Amara remembered the darkness. The omnipresent void of suffocation pulling her in, threatening to snuff out her existence. For a long while, that was the only thing she had known. Everything else existed behind a separate veil, far removed from her senses. A memory that belonged to her, but taken away, caged, and isolated. But she remembered the darkness.

An eternal fall that left her feeling numb, resigned before the inevitability of fate. A crushing reminder of her own lack of strength. It would've broken her, in both body and soul, but she had survived that fate. Courtesy of Immortal.

An eternity would've come and gone in that time, but she didn't care. Her existence seemed to exceed even the concept of death, defiantly standing tall against the yawning void.

And then the light arrived.

A beacon of hope, a halo of salvation. It called to her, promising freedom. And she had answered.

Finally she could escape the only constant in her life.

When the light receded, she felt as if her soul was torn asunder. Strength fleeing her body like dry sand slipping one's grasp. Leaving her empty with a void torn in her soul.

And then she was on the other side.

Confusion overwhelmed her. Anger even more so.

First her memories were taken away, and then her strength. There was only one object she could lash out at, and that was exactly what she had done.

However, her pitiful strength barely made any impact. Light faded, and she found herself in a cavern.

Standing before her was a young man with blonde hair covered in dust and grime and emerald green eyes. He was positively handsome and supported a robust physique, but she cared for none of that.

She had questioned him, and he had replied with the most ludicrous of the ideas. He claimed to have summoned her.

He, a pitiful human barely a step into E-Rank, summoned her, a vampire queen at the peak of all rankings.

The absurdity of the claim was something to scoff at or brush aside entirely. She would have to be a fool to even consider his words, much less trust them. Amara learned why she was a fool right after.

Although faint and almost non-existent, there existed a bond between the two. And Amara realized why she felt so weak. Because the bond, on which her entire existence depended, was also weak.

How could this be? Why must this be?

Amara wasn't willing to accept it. She wasn't willing to become a slave to someone. She would never. Especially not to some weak and pitiful human.

But she wasn't ready to kill him either. Her survival depended on him, after all. So she listened, as much as she could, about her so-called summoner.

His claims sounded absurd, especially the talk about the Rapture or whatever. To have not only met a dragon but killed one was nothing but false bragging.

She looked him straight in the eye, expectant to catch that lie. Her blood monarch measured his heart rate, his every response, ready to alert her at the slightest glimpse of a suspicion.

She found nothing. Everything this young man before her told her was the truth. And she found it hard to believe.

Amara was left confused. With all her being, she sought nothing but peace. And now the fate had decided to mock her in the most detesting way, by making her a slave to someone's whims.

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When he checked her Soul Record, which he for some cursed reason called Hunter Profile, she could feel his soul brush against hers in the most intimate manner possible. Amara forced the reaction down, for she had just confirmed the existence of the bond.

He told her the system mentioned their bond being permanent. And that was all the affirmation she needed.

A soul bond.

But not just any oath-based soul bond. No, this one felt too different, too intimate. Rather than binding two existences, it felt as if two existences rose from a singular origin.

She knew what that meant, even if the greater workings of the bond confounded her.

An eternal bond. A lifetime to be spent alongside this human.

Ever the adaptive creature that she was, Amara sought comfort in smaller measures. She might not like this human or her situation, but since there was nothing she could do, she would just go with the flow.

That didn't mean the bitterness in her vanished. It was invoked time and again as she learned of the incompetence of her summoner. While she might've lost her memories, her knowledge was vast and thorough.

And her summoner, an inapt illiterate.

She expected him lashing out at her ridicule, but he took her insults with the grace of an expert artist. Somehow that only made her feel guilty.

Whatever the case, at least he supported good looks and a Supreme tier Origin that she knew exceeded her own but found it an enigma. It seemed even her knowledge base failed to cover the rarity appropriately.

But then she learned the dragon had even gifted him its heart. An impressive feat even by her standards. But she couldn't help but wonder what game the dragon was playing at.

It wasn't lost on Amara that this dragon might be responsible for her predicament. If only it hadn't chosen death, then getting her questions answered would've been so much easier.

Her impression of the young man changed with every passing moment. Until she couldn't help empathizing with him. That he had been betrayed by those he trusted poked a sore spot in her heart.

The rest of her time spent with him was... interesting to say the least.

She could at least accept that her existence was bound to and reliant on someone else. Even if it left a bitter taste in her mouth, she wouldn't complain.

Something was better than nothing. Light over darkness any day of the week.

Her uncaring attitude took over. She would just strap along for the ride and enjoy wherever she could.

But then he said something that stopped her in her tracks.

"I want us to be friends."

Friends.

Such an easy term to utter, such a massive responsibility to shoulder. Her inner self faltered, hesitant and indecisive. But her impervious heart took it all with an effortless stride.

Fighting was exciting, as if scratching an itch after such a long time. Seeing all the blood somehow put her heart at rest, even birthing some excitement.

All throughout that fight, she had caught his gaze wandering to her form, sticking on her face and body. She knew that look etched on his face, and a sadistic desire tried to take hold. She curbed, crushed, and threw it away. No need to go that far, or he might just shunt her back in that darkness.

She would only just tease him a little. Nothing more.

As the fight raged, Amara could feel his accumulating XP, but nothing of her own. And when he leveled up, she could feel the bond between them grow stronger. And each time she regained a bit of her former strength.

However, deep down, Amara wasn't sure whether she was being fair to Markus. Sure, her circumstances were terrible and dreadful, but did he deserve her hate for it?

Annoyance crept from within her. Hate and nonchalance waging a war with her as the battlefield. And in that heated moment, she spoke without a thought.

He looked hurt.

Like the orphans on the street ridiculed for their ragged outfits or homeless for their shaggy appearances.

She hated it. She hated herself. But what could she do?

What part of their dynamic could be labeled as anything remotely friendly? She might've acted nonchalant to everything, but it hurt her more than anything. Mostly because her supposed summoner desired for them to be friends.

How absurd was that?

For anyone else it might've turned into a never-ending war; for Amara, she could at least adapt to her new life. It felt absurd and far-fetched, but that was just who she was at her core.

It took her some time, but Amara was willing to accept. If eternity was forced upon them, the least they could do was accept each other.

But once again, her actions led to him getting hurt. This time physically. Her careless nature, birthed from her strength and confidence, and utter disregard for others.

If only she had been a little more thoughtful. If only she had acted with caution, then this might not have happened.

Even though he looked hurt, and even though she had bared her mistakes, he didn't blame her. He still wanted to be friends with her. He wasn't willing to treat her the way she had seen summons being treated.

So, Amara came to a decision.

She asked him one simple question.

And his answer affirmed her resolution.

Since he wanted to be friends with her, then she would respect his decision and give him a fair chance. Since the fate decided for her become a summon, then she would make the most of it.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.