The village of Hollowmere lay shrouded in twilight, a place where the boundary between worlds thinned to a fragile veil.
Ruins whispered forgotten tales, and the air trembled with the unstable pulse of fractured reality.
Here, time folded over itself, caught in endless loops, while shadows flickered at the edge of vision—echoes of a power that should not be.
Alucard moved through the ruins alone, silent and watchful.
Around him, the rift in the Veil hummed faintly—an invisible wound leaking unstable energy into the world.
To most, he was simply one of the summoned heroes—a prodigious, calm figure, enigmatic but trusted.
To them, a loyal blade raised against the creeping darkness.
But beneath this carefully crafted facade lay a truth no one could guess.
He was not just a summoned hero.
Alucard was the reincarnated Demon King of another world, a ruler who had once held dominion over countless realms before fate shattered his throne.
And now, summoned into this fractured world, he walked among mortals with a secret far darker and more potent than their wildest imaginings.
His eyes flicked toward the horizon where the sun bled red behind twisted clouds.
The Veil was fraying, its threads unraveling with every passing moment.
The influence of the Will—the insatiable cosmic hunger—spread like poison through the land, infecting the minds of the desperate and the hopeful alike.
He sensed the others nearby.
Aoi, Daichi, Reina, and Sota—all unknowingly tethered to the Veil's chaotic energy, vessels of a power far greater than their own understanding.
They believed they were heroes summoned to save this world.
They did not know they were pawns.
Alucard's lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
The Veil was not a cage, but a system—a code waiting to be rewritten.
And the power it infused in the others?
He intended to take it for himself.
Their strength, raw and unrefined, can be broken down and reforged in my image.
A soft rustle of leaves drew his attention as Elysia stepped out from the shadows, her presence a serene contrast to the storm of broken reality around them.
The Demon Queen ruled the remnants of the Old Realm, her power a beacon amid the chaos wrought by the Black Sky Event.
"Alucard," she said quietly, eyes scanning the warped ruins, "this place is a wound in the Veil—a fracture growing wider with each day. The Will's hunger seeps through."
He nodded, meeting her gaze with calm resolve.
"Yes. And these fractures carry power—power I intend to claim."
Elysia's expression hardened.
"You plan to draw that energy from the others? From the other summoned heroes?"
"Yes." His voice was steady, betraying no hesitation.
"They carry the Veil's influence unknowingly. If I extract that energy, absorb it... my strength will surpass anything this world has seen."
She studied him, a flicker of worry shadowing her serene composure.
"That is a dangerous path, Alucard. To take from them risks becoming another fracture feeding the Will's hunger."
He chuckled softly, a sound void of warmth.
"I am no stranger to sacrifice. The world will pay a price, but I will be the one who shapes its fate—not the Will."
A chill wind swept through the ruins, twisting the tattered banners and stirring echoes of lost memories.
Time itself seemed to ripple around them, uncertain and unstable.
Alucard knelt before an ancient altar cracked and worn, his fingers tracing glowing glyphs pulsating with raw Veil energy.
"This village is both symptom and source," he said, voice low.
"The Will watches, waiting for the moment to consume what remains."
Elysia stepped close, her hand resting briefly on his shoulder, a gesture both comforting and cautionary.
"The Will devours everything. If you intend to wield this power, guard your soul well."
He met her gaze, dark and unyielding.
"I will not allow the Will to devour me, or this world."
His System, hidden beneath his flesh, pulsed in sync with the Veil's fractured rhythm.
He saw in his mind's eye the four summoned heroes scattered across the continent—each glowing faintly with stolen Veil energy: Aoi's hopeful light, Daichi's fierce fire, Reina's silent calm, and Sota's calculating mind.
They were unwitting reservoirs of power.
And he would be the one to harvest their gifts, bending fate with the hidden strength of a Demon King reborn in the guise of a hero.
Elysia's voice softened.
"If you take their power..., will you stand against the Will, or become what you fight?"
Alucard's smile was chillingly serene.
"I will become the fracture that reshapes the world—or the force that holds it together. The choice is mine."
The altar before them pulsed stronger, the rift weaving time and space into twisted, unstable patterns.
The air shimmered with raw magic, fragile as glass.
"This is the heart of the fracture," Elysia said.
"Here, the Veil's threads snap and converge. Here, the future will be decided."
Alucard stepped forward, extending his mind into the invisible web binding the summoned heroes, the world, and the lurking Will.
Soon, he vowed silently.
Their power will fuel mine. Their fate will serve mine.
Elysia's hand on his shoulder was a fragile alliance, a warning cloaked in warmth.
"The Veil demands sacrifice."
His voice was unwavering.
"I am no pawn of fate. I will be its master."
They call us heroes, but we are nothing but pieces in a cosmic game.
I was a king once—a Demon King whose name struck terror into realms beyond counting. That life ended in fire and betrayal. Now, reborn in this new world as one among heroes, I play the quiet game.
The Veil is fragile, cracked, but not yet broken. It flows through the others, unguarded and raw.
I will take their shards and forge order from chaos.
If I fail, all will be lost. But if I succeed, I will not just save this world—I will own it.
Power is both a weapon and a curse. I carry it alone.
Around them, Hollowmere whispered with the voices of the lost—echoes of time's fracture bleeding through the rift.
Alucard's plan was set.
One by one, he would draw the Veil's energy from the other summoned heroes, refining it into his strength.
His mask of heroism would never slip; the world believed in the summoned champion.
They did not see the Demon King beneath the surface—silent, watching, waiting.
The world balanced on the edge of ruin, and he would be the fulcrum to tip the scales.