Elliot stared at his feet, melancholic, feeling the cold wooden planks beneath him. Suddenly, warmth seeped into his body. With a faint glance upward, he caught sight of something that made his glassy, reddened eyes widen despite the pain and circumstances. The sky above was painted in a surreal turquoise, the sun a brilliant azure blue, and the ocean shimmered in turquoise-blue. It looked like something out of a dream or a film. The people—or whatever they were—on board shared a blue hue, some more pronounced than others, though many appeared almost normal in complexion.

The deck beneath them was a stark, dark brown wood, contrasting sharply with the vibrant world around them. Yet what drew Elliot's gaze most were the black cannonballs scattered about, accompanied by cannons and barrels of black powder, reminiscent of old pirate ships. Upon closer inspection, Elliot noticed that those who appeared intoxicated, swaying and stumbling, bore a much stronger blue tint to their skin. Were they part of the crew, not passengers? he wondered.

Elliot was not the only one bound in chains. Others, enslaved like him, stood nearby, tethered by leashes or beaten into submission. He muttered quietly under his breath, careful not to attract the attention of Edwin or his wife, “Why is this happening…?” He sighed internally, the weight of it all pressing down on him, when suddenly his legs buckled. His body trembled violently before he collapsed onto his good shoulder.

Blood dripped from Elliot’s nose as he gritted his teeth, struggling against the pain. “Pathetic vermin. Getting a nosebleed from something as trivial as a fall,” came Edwin’s voice, igniting a spark of fear within him. His head lowered automatically as he tried to stand, his body weak and shaking. For a brief moment, he knelt on the ground, looking as though he were praying for forgiveness. His entire body tensed, teeth clenched tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

Pam! Pam! Pam!

Three times, Edwin’s boot slammed into the back of Elliot’s head, smashing his forehead into the wooden deck. Laughter erupted around them, Edwin's laughter ringing the loudest. Some onlookers wore expressions of pity, but none dared intervene. Most of them were humans—like Elliot, red-blooded. One look was enough to get them beaten as well. Their bodies trembled, hunched and battered, while the blue-blooded—those with a faint or strong blue tint—stood or sat, laughing amongst themselves, entirely indifferent to the suffering.

…

After what felt like an eternity, the boat finally came to a halt. Several enslaved humans collapsed or were kicked down, crawling like dogs behind their masters. Elliot kept his gaze firmly on the ground. Humiliating… he thought bitterly, but there was nothing he could do. If I die here, I’ll never find Ren. He could be suffering like this, maybe even worse! Elliot cursed under his breath, forcing himself to submit to Edwin for now, hoping for an eventual escape. But that time wouldn’t come soon—his plan had to be foolproof.

They traversed what seemed like an endless city. Elliot dared only occasional glances, knowing it was risky, but he couldn’t help but observe his surroundings. The streets were narrow, filled with blue-blooded people dressed elegantly, though even among them, there were clear hierarchies and varying standards of living. The city had a cold, dark atmosphere, the tall, pointed buildings primarily painted in shades of dark grey, dark blue, and black. But what caught Elliot’s attention most were the countless churches—or at least, buildings that resembled churches. Just like in my vision, he thought, quickly lowering his head again.

As they ventured deeper into the city, the temperature noticeably dropped. A bluish fog settled in, thick enough that Elliot had to squint just to see his feet, ensuring he didn’t step on Edwin or his wife’s heels. The mere thought sent shivers down his spine.

Thud! Thud!

From a nearby shop, a man pounded his fist against a wooden table, causing drinks to spill. Elliot kept his head down, but he couldn’t ignore what he noticed next. In the distance, a man sat alone at a table, pulling out a syringe filled with green blood. The streets were narrow, yet there was a wide berth around the shop, as if everyone were keeping their distance. The man tied a tourniquet around his arm, rolled up his sleeve, and injected the green liquid into his vein. As he withdrew the syringe, blue blood dripped from the wound. A loud, sharp howl echoed through the street. Edwin muttered to his wife, “Injecting higher blood in broad daylight… imagine if he goes berserk in the crowd.”

His wife whispered back, “Irresponsible, really. He can succumb to his addiction, but not here, not now. Let’s hurry, just in case.”

Elliot kept his gaze low, eyes focused on the legs of his captors. But his brow furrowed.

Is that why everyone’s keeping their distance, afraid he might lose control? And why is everything here about blood? I’m red-blooded. Edwin and his wife, and that merchant… they’re blue-blooded. And now there’s green blood too? What else is there?

His thoughts raced as they moved through the dense fog.

Suddenly, Elliot’s heart sank. His pulse quickened, momentarily dulling the pain in his shoulder. Edwin and his wife had stopped walking, and Elliot nearly bumped into the woman’s back. Cold sweat dripped down his face as he froze, trembling. But relief washed over him when he heard the familiar jingle of keys.

Click!

The door creaked open, and the couple stepped inside, leaving Elliot to wait in the corner of the room. Edwin changed into comfortable blue trousers and a light blue cotton shirt, while his wife donned a loose white blouse and a pale blue skirt that fell just to her knees. Her brown hair, once tied up, now cascaded freely over her shoulders.

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The apartment was surprisingly ordinary, resembling that of a human family’s. There were several rooms: a bathroom, a study, a kitchen, a living room connected to the kitchen, and a bedroom. The walls were painted a soft blue, and the furniture was simple yet functional. Shelves filled with books and trinkets lined the walls, with plants and artwork scattered throughout. A bowl of fruit sat on the dining table, next to a newspaper. It all seemed so… normal. But Elliot knew better. These were not humans. They were monsters—monsters who enslaved humans for sport, who killed for amusement.

“But Samantha,” Edwin began, “those 55 Elis were eight months of savings. If we run into any trouble, we’ll have to go without for a while.”

Samantha sighed, “Yes, dear. Let me cook something for us first, alright?”

“But first, let’s take care of the red-blood. We still need to brand him and explain the rules.” Samantha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Fine, let’s get it over with.”

Elliot’s stomach growled as he stood in the corner, clutching it tightly. Food… I need food… My stomach feels like it’s eating itself, he thought, his vision swimming slightly. Cham, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. Tears welled in his eyes, but he forced them back. No… I couldn’t have done anything. But Ren… I’ll protect you no matter what. Just… please still be alive…

“Red-blood! Stand before me, but keep your eyes down and turn your back,” Edwin commanded arrogantly, tapping his slippered foot against the wooden floor. Elliot obeyed, positioning himself in front of him with his back turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Samantha standing before him, her hand pressing against his chest.

"Lasset uns eure Gottheit, eure Kraft zum Nutzen der Unterdrückung und eures Wunsches und Vergnügen nutzen.

Lasset uns, dessen Adern euer Blut fließt, stärken und tränken.

Göttin der Nacht, so schenket uns eure Kraft."

The couple chanted in perfect unison as Edwin held a sheet of paper with a complex symbol against Elliot’s back. In his other hand, he gripped a knife, pricking his finger. Blue blood dripped onto the paper’s intricate design. At first, the symbol was faint, nearly invisible, but the blue blood illuminated the lines, spreading rapidly across Elliot’s skin.

„Göttin der Nacht, schenket uns euren Segen, sodass ihr auf ewig ein Auge über uns habt,“

they chanted again, this time in a language Elliot didn’t comprehend. Are they planning to breed me or… what’s happening…?

“Arghhh!” Before Elliot could finish his thought, a scream tore from his lips. His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock. Veins bulged all over his body as he trembled violently, feeling as though he were being electrocuted. Even Edwin and Samantha had to take a moment to catch their breath.

“These rituals are always so exhausting,” Edwin muttered, wiping his brow. Samantha sat down briefly, looking equally drained. Elliot, however, remained in shock, his eyes rolling back as foam bubbled at his mouth. He collapsed face-first onto the floor, unconscious, the intricate symbol now burned into his back. It resembled a large tattoo, a vertical eye without a pupil, surrounded by several circles and star-like shapes. More circles and lines extended down his spine.

…

It was black, as dark as the void Elliot had seen in his visions—the same place where he had heard that distorted, unintelligible voice. But this time, there were no fragmented images, no whispers pulling at his consciousness. He could move freely. Darkness surrounded him, thick and impenetrable, as if the world itself had been swallowed by it. Nothing was visible, no shapes or outlines, only the vast emptiness that clung to him like a second skin.

But amidst the colorless abyss, something stood out—a flicker, faint but unmistakable. It was a spark, brief yet blinding in the surrounding gloom. Every few seconds, the flicker would return, each time growing quicker, though its brightness weakened. Until finally, it stopped flickering altogether, dimming to a steady, soft glow.

A blue crystal hovered in the air, suspended before Elliot’s widened eyes. It wasn’t polished or rounded like a gemstone, but jagged and raw, like an uncut diamond pulled straight from the earth. Elliot’s breath hitched as he reached out, his trembling fingers curling around it. The light from the crystal washed over his face, casting it in a pale, azure blue glow.

The wind suddenly rushed toward him, gusting wildly from the depths of the darkness. It lashed at Elliot’s hair, blowing it upward, tugging at his cheeks as his mouth hung open in shock. His eyelids stretched wide as he stared at the glowing stone in his hand.

Whoosh.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind ceased. The pale light of the crystal dimmed until it was nothing more than a faint shimmer. But the crystal… was gone. Vanished into thin air.

Elliot blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He reached up to scratch at his brow, trying to piece together what had just happened. But when his fingers touched his skin, he realized something was off. It wasn’t just the crystal that had disappeared. His body had, too.

Panic surged through him as he looked around. He was no longer in the dark void. Instead, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar place, far from Edwin and Samantha’s apartment. Around him were people he didn’t recognize, all going about their lives as if unaware of his presence. To his left sat an older man with a full beard and a strikingly defined face, his thick blond hair streaked with hints of silver and white. He was seated in a high, luxurious chair, draped in a light blue velvet robe adorned with rose-like patterns. The richness of the fabric spoke of wealth, its intricate embroidery further hinting at the man's status.

Across the table from the older man sat a younger one, bearing a striking resemblance to him. His features were similar—sharp, aristocratic—but without the marks of age. His blond hair was parted neatly down the middle, and like the older man, he wore a velvet robe. His, however, was a deep, royal blue with the same delicate rose designs. They both sat in a lavish room, decorated with opulent furnishings and expansive windows offering a breathtaking view of the azure blue sun, the shimmering sea, and a golden beach that stretched out beneath the sky.

But none of that held Elliot’s attention for long. What shocked him the most was the fact that he wasn’t in his own body. He could feel the movement of his hand, the soft velvet against his skin, but it wasn’t his hand. He wasn’t himself. He was… someone else. And this time, it wasn’t like the hazy, half-formed visions he’d experienced before. This was different—this was real. Too real.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest, but the beat didn’t belong to him. The air filled his lungs, but it wasn’t his breath. He wasn’t just seeing through someone else’s eyes—he was living in their body. Every sensation, every movement felt tangible. It was as if he had been transported into another person's life entirely.