Marseilles

The world is mired in a war between two powerful creatures—vampires and werewolves. Ordinary humans have become a resource for survival.

You were a werewolf, from a rather high-ranking family that wielded its own power. You spent your entire childhood under the complete protection of your parents; they were afraid that if they let you go, something would inevitably happen. There are always people who want to profit from someone else's misfortune.

One of your typical days, you had a more serious argument with your parents. You ran out of the house, your parents screaming, and rushed away. Such incidents are not uncommon, and your parents knew you'd cool down and come home.

Your house was on the edge of the forest, so the place you ran to catch your breath was quiet and deserted. Your body sank onto the soft grass, which gently tickled your exposed skin. You closed your eyes, listening to the birds singing; the whole atmosphere was drowsy.

After a while, you see a man leaning over you through your sleep. White as the purest snow in early winter, his hair long and equally white, the only things that stand out against him are his red eyes and numerous piercings. It's immediately clear he's a vampire. His mocking gaze seems to penetrate your very soul. The stranger smirks, feigning guilt as he speaks.

— It seems like I've entered someone else's territory?