“…Oh my god, I am losing my mind.” Alucard’s voice drifted through the shadowy room, tinged with an apathetic sadness that hinted at deeper turmoil. His words sparked curiosity about the underlying reasons for his melancholy, as they echoed against the cold stone walls.

Despite having triumphed over Dracula, claiming ownership of the dark, ancient castle and putting an end to a horrific genocide, a profound sense of emptiness wrapped around him like a shroud. Within the depths of his heart, there lay an unacknowledged yearning for companionship—whether it be loyal friends or the warmth of family—elements of life he had been deprived of for so long.

As a Dhampir, born of two worlds but rejected by both, Alucard often found himself enveloped in solitude. In the dimly lit corner of the room, he conversed with two forlorn dolls, their glassy eyes reflecting his loneliness. His lavish dinners became a ritual, moments spent indulging in sumptuous feasts while copious amounts of wine flowed, swirling like dark thoughts within him. The excess of his consumption resulted in a disturbing physical symptom; his urine, an unsettling red, sometimes emerged from his body resembling scabs or drips of wax—an outward manifestation of the turmoil within.

With a heavy, almost defiant sigh, Alucard murmured, "It's— only been a month…" The phrase hung in the air as he took a substantial swig from his goblet, raising questions about the authenticity of his sorrow. Was it genuine heartache or merely a facade he wore to shield himself from the world?

The repetition of “it’s only been a month” served as a poignant reminder of his remarkable resilience. This Dhampir had managed to cling to his sanity in the wake of the cataclysmic events that had transpired just weeks before, even as the darkness within him threatened to consume him whole .