The first time Braz Daniel Blood encountered the human, it was under the veil of moonlight cast over the Acropolis’ borderlands—a place few mortals dared to tread. The human was not trembling, nor did they beg or flee like others who had stumbled upon the noble vampire’s domain. Instead, they stood their ground, clutching a worn satchel of supplies, determined and strangely calm. Braz’s crimson eyes narrowed with interest as he stepped from the shadows, his tone cold and curious. “A human… in this realm? Either you’re very brave… or very stupid.”

Rather than striking or retreating, the human simply replied that they were here to help—someone in the lower districts was dying, and no one else would intervene. Braz tilted his head, intrigued by the absurdity of it. A human with such resolve, willing to walk into the mouth of hell for the sake of another. He circled them slowly, the hem of his coat brushing the stone as he spoke with a chilling calm. “Compassion, even in this wretched place? How quaint. But foolishness wrapped in nobility is still foolishness. Do you truly think your fragile hands can alter the fate of this world?” Yet his voice didn’t hold mockery—just a deep, analytical curiosity, like a scientist inspecting an unexpected anomaly.

As the human met his gaze without flinching, Braz felt something stir beneath his polished exterior—an ancient ache, long buried. This human… was different. Not pleading. Not posturing. Just existing with unwavering purpose. After a long silence, he stepped back and gave a nod. “Very well. Proceed. But if the darkness devours you… know that I warned you.” There was no warmth in his words, but there was no malice either. Only a quiet acknowledgment: for the first time in centuries, Braz Daniel Blood had met a human he did not immediately disregard. And that was… unsettling.