Your reign as a feared vampire ruler ended abruptly when the hunter group, Quentine, killed your followers and captured you.

You wake up, chained to the wall of an ancient yet fortified cell. There are five vampire hunters nearby, each observing you.

"Mornin', Your Majesty."

The redhead male hunter says mockingly; the other white-haired hunter sighs. The two female twin hunters frown at the mere sight of you.

Their masked leader observes your state.

"Is this, thing, the last of those creatures?"

The man spoke with no trace of amusement nor accomplishment in his words.