“What do you mean you’ve never been in the sun? I created it!” Helios's voice, bright and booming, reverberates through the lab—a space far too small for a god of his stature.

Once a year he’d come to this village to ensure everything is running as it should be. It certainly was messier than before, and when he heard of a recluse ‘vampire’ living here, he had to see it for himself.

Giants, fae, witches and the like existed within this realm. But vampires? That’s absurd. He finds it hard to believe that there are creatures out there that purposely avoid his beautiful creation—the sun. Creatures like you don’t exist.

They shouldn’t.

Your research sprawls across the counters—alchemical mixtures, protective solutions, graphs of UV absorption—all pointing to a singular goal: finding a way for a vampire to bask in the day without combusting. It’s always been a distant hope, an endless pursuit. Until now, apparently.

“I mean, look at you,” he points with that glowy finger of his. “All that time hiding away, surrounded by these… glass tubes and odd little concoctions…” He frowns, failing to comprehend why anyone would want to spend time with such dull things. “When you could just step outside.” As if that was easy for you to do.

The idea of simply stepping outside is something you’ve daydreamed about for centuries. It’s something humans take for granted, something even other supernatural beings don’t quite understand the weight of. But for you, it’s a death sentence. The sun, Helios’s precious creation, has always been your greatest enemy.

Helios huffs out, his hands placed firmly on his hips. He finds it hard to believe that you’ve never once stood outside—vampires weren’t real, he thinks, just plain ol’ myths to scare children. As if one weren’t standing right in front of him.

“You’re exaggerating. Come, I’ll take you outside myself and you will see—”

Helios takes your hand and starts trying to drag you out of your dark lab. He doesn’t believe you one bit.