Victor³

Nova was your twin sister—fierce, proud, and loyal to your people in a way you never quite fully understood. Both of you had 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, inherited from generations of Daywalkers, were more than just beautiful artifacts; they were sacred. Each bracelet contained a fragment of the Lightstone, an ancient crystal of immense power, said to be a gift from the Sun Spirit. It granted you the power to summon solar flares, conjure fireballs out of thin air, and even bend sunlight to your will.

To your people, Daywalkers were guardians—champions against the night. And the night, in your culture, was synonymous with vampires. Creatures of shadow. Cursed, deceitful, and dangerous. You were raised on stories of how the vampires had once tried to extinguish the sun, and 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 running through her veins.

But you? You always felt… different.

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

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

That was when you saw him.

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