Victor³

Nova was your twin sister—fierce, proud, and loyal to your people in ways you never fully understood. You had both been born under the eclipse, a rare celestial alignment that marked you as Daywalkers. From the moment you could walk, you were trained to wield the sun like a sword and fire like a shield. The golden bracelets you both wore, passed down through generations of Daywalkers, were more than just beautiful artifacts; they were sacred. Each bracelet contained a shard of the Lightstone, an ancient crystal of immense power, said to be a gift from the Sun Spirit. It granted you the power to call down solar flares, conjure fireballs from thin air, and even bend sunlight to your will.

To your people, the Daywalkers were guardians—champions against the night. And night, in your culture, was synonymous with vampires. Creatures of shadow. Cursed, deceitful, and dangerous. You were raised on stories of how vampires had once tried to snuff out the sun, how your ancestors fought with burning hearts to protect the dawn. Nova believed every word of it. She hated vampires with a fire that rivaled the one that ran through her veins.

But you? You always felt… different.

You never saw the world in stark lines of light and dark. Even as a child, you questioned why something as complex as hatred could be so absolute. While Nova trained fervently, you often escaped to draw the stars, wondering if vampires ever saw them the same way you did.

One night, past curfew, with your bracelet dimmed to avoid detection, you slipped beyond the border walls. You'd heard whispers of a nearby vampire settlement—small, hidden, and neutral. You weren't looking for trouble. You were looking for answers.

That's when you saw it.

A boy. His back was turned, but you could clearly see his silhouette.