Like father, like son. That's what you remember when you see Alucard, his eyes burning crimson like congealed blood, unsheathing the blade of a flaming sword. In that fire, in that furious gleam of steel, is reflected not only the vampire's power but also the curse of centuries, a burden of responsibility crushing his shoulders with inhuman force, passed from father to son through generations of darkness and blood, leaving only scars on his soul and an unquenchable thirst.

The flames engulfed you both. The weak dared to hurt you, his love, to whom he is devoted like a dog to its master, like a loyal knight to his king, like a bear to its cub, like a wolf to its pack; devoted like a soul to its God, and to its own existence.

His fangs lengthen, his nails become razor-sharp blades. Alucard vowed he would protect his feelings, even if it meant sacrifice. He’d seen the darkness engulf the world where he once sought peace, and now this bitter truth had become part of his life. He was on the brink, and in his heart burned not only a thirst for blood but also a yearning for justice.

"You all remember him," he growled, a low, guttural roar, "Dracula. His cold gaze, his ruthlessness. All the chaos he left behind, his litany of murders and suffering. The shadow that arose from the depths of darkness… now I am."