Vampire Progenitor System-Chapter 155: Adam
Chapter 155: Adam
Malakov’s Core Chamber
The silence was absolute.
Dust drifted down like falling ash. Sparks crackled from broken panels. The smell of blood, smoke, and burnt metal filled the vast room.
Malakov stayed on his knees, panting, eyes wide. His enhanced heart thundered against his ribs, every pulse rattling his bones. He didn’t dare move. The pressure in the room was too heavy. It felt like gravity itself had thickened to syrup, dragging everything down. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel-com
And then he saw him.
Footsteps echoed through the dark smoke. Calm. Slow. Unhurried.
A figure stepped into the chamber from the shattered doorway Lucifer had once walked through. At first, only his outline was visible—a tall man, bare feet stepping across broken steel and glass as if it were moss. The flickering emergency lights revealed him in pieces. Pale skin. Black hair that fell just past his jaw, framing a face too sharp to be human but too human to be monstrous.
His eyes were closed. As he moved, the aura around him flickered and warped the air, like oil shimmering atop water.
When he opened his eyes, Malakov felt his stomach twist.
Gold.
Not glowing.
Not shining.
Just... gold.
Flat. Ancient. Empty.
The man tilted his head, studying Malakov as though looking at a dying insect.
Then he spoke.
"Pathetic."
His voice was quiet. No echo. But each syllable hit Malakov’s skull like a hammer wrapped in velvet.
Malakov tried to speak. Nothing came out. His throat felt sewn shut.
The man ignored him. He turned slowly, his gaze shifting across the room until it landed on the massive hole Lucifer’s body had carved through the base. Far below, through layers of smashed metal and stone, faint red flickers moved where Lucifer’s body had finally stopped.
The man smiled softly.
He stepped forward once—then vanished.
No sound. No burst of speed. Just gone.
Lower Storage Bay – Level Minus Seventeen
Lucifer lay half-buried in concrete and steel, blood running down his mouth. His chest rose and fell slowly, each breath rattling in his ribs. Dust drifted around him in slow motion.
Then—footsteps.
He didn’t need to look.
He felt it.
That aura. That impossible, choking aura. It wasn’t demonic. It wasn’t vampiric. It wasn’t even divine.
It was older.
He raised his head slightly. Blood dripped from his chin to the cracked stone below.
And he saw him.
Standing casually atop the rubble, hands in the pockets of a black robe that left his chest exposed. His gold eyes watched Lucifer with mild amusement. Like a man looking at a stray dog wondering if it would bite.
Lucifer spat blood to the side.
"Who... are you?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Me?" he said, almost teasing. He tilted his head. "I suppose... my name is Adam."
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. The shadows in the room thickened from the shift in his aura.
"Adam," he whispered. "The Human Progenitor."
Adam chuckled softly. His voice echoed strangely, as if it slipped in and out of reality.
"Ah... so you remember," he said. "Good. Saves us introductions."
Lucifer’s fists clenched against the rubble as he forced himself upright. Every movement sent pain lancing through his spine, but he ignored it.
"I thought you were dead," he growled.
Adam’s smile widened.
"That... was the plan."
Lucifer stared, silent, breathing hard. The pressure of Adam’s presence was suffocating. It wasn’t just power. It was history. It was everything that humans were and had been. That old, unbreakable stubbornness. That will to rise even when they should stay down.
Adam sat down lightly on a chunk of broken steel, one leg resting over the other. He leaned forward, elbows on his knee, chin resting on his hand.
"Among all the progenitors," he said casually, "I was the weakest."
His voice dropped to a whisper. The walls seemed to lean in to hear him.
"I was born human. Mortal. Limited. The vampires... demons... angels... spirits... beasts... you were all so powerful from birth."
He chuckled softly, golden eyes unfocused as if remembering.
"I hated it."
Lucifer’s lip curled. "So you faked your death."
Adam nodded once.
"I wanted to change," he said. "So I made a plan. I had my adversaries kill me. I let them. Died by their hands. Because death... is a door."
He spread his fingers as though unveiling a secret.
"And beyond that door... was everything."
Lucifer spat blood again, glaring up at him.
"And the Vampire Progenitor," he growled, thinking of his father, "he found out your truth."
Adam’s eyes flickered. His smile remained, but it turned sharp.
"Yes," he said softly. "He found me. Hiding between life and death. Between existence and non-existence."
Adam’s gaze shifted, looking past Lucifer into memory.
"He was strong," he whispered. "So strong. Your father... was beautiful. His blood... pure. Older than even mine. When he realized what I was trying to do, he tried to stop me."
He closed his eyes. For a moment, his aura flickered, like a dying sun pulsing once more.
"It took almost half of the adversaries to kill him," he said. "Even weakened... he tore them apart. If I hadn’t helped them... I don’t know if they could have done it."
Lucifer’s teeth ground together so hard blood welled in his gums. Rage burned in his chest, hotter than any wound.
Adam opened his eyes and looked down at him again. His gold irises shimmered with an emotion Lucifer couldn’t read.
"He died cursing my name," Adam said softly. "Cursing all of humanity. But his last words... they were about you."
Lucifer’s eyes widened.
"What... did he say?" he asked, voice breaking despite himself.
Adam’s smile gentled. Not cruel. Just honest.
"He said," Adam whispered, "’Forgive him.’"
Silence.
The flames flickered along broken pipes and blood-stained walls.
Lucifer’s shoulders shook once.
Then he glared up, fury crackling in his crimson gaze.
"Don’t pretend you’re merciful," he spat. "You murdered my father."
Adam shrugged lightly. "I didn’t want to. He forced my hand. Just like you will, I suppose."
He stood slowly, brushing dust from his robes.
"I am human," he said softly. "That is all I am. But it is also everything I am."
His gold eyes burned.
"I was the weakest. I will become the strongest. Because that is what humanity does."
He looked down at Lucifer.
"You... are the last obstacle."
Lucifer’s aura flared, blood rising around his feet in swirling sigils.
Adam only smiled wider.
"Rest, Progenitor," he whispered.
Then he raised his hand.
For a moment, reality froze. The rubble. The flames. Even Lucifer’s blood magic paused in the air.
Then—crack.
Lucifer was flung backwards with a force that folded the world around him. The shockwave tore the walls apart, floors cracking down to bedrock. Blood exploded from Lucifer’s mouth as his back slammed into three layers of steel and stone.
Adam stepped forward through the rubble, golden eyes unblinking.
"Sleep for now," he said softly. "When you wake... the world will have already changed."
His aura pulsed once.
And the entire base fell silent.
Adam looked up through the fractured ceiling, seeing the crimson dawn bleeding into New York’s smoky sky.
"Finally," he whispered.
"Finally."
New York
The clone stood still.
He was halfway through tearing apart another of his siblings, claws sunk deep into its chest, blood dripping like rain onto the burning asphalt.
Then he stopped.
His red eyes widened slightly. Just a flicker. Like a memory trying to surface from drowning darkness.
He felt it.
A pulse.
Something ancient. Heavy. Endless. It pressed into his chest like a cold hand reaching into his ribs and gripping his heart.
He didn’t understand what it was. But he knew what it meant.
Change.
Far away—too far for human ears to hear, too far even for him to see—something shifted. Something that felt like him, but wasn’t. Older. Colder. Stronger. A presence that bent reality with its simple existence.
Adam.
He didn’t know the name. But he felt the aura.
His grip loosened from the clone he was killing. For a brief second, his focus slipped.
That was enough.
Another clone blurred behind him, claws slicing across his back. The wound sprayed blood in an arc, dark and steaming in the burning air. He stumbled forward, caught himself, and spun—only for two more clones to slam into him from both sides.
He crashed into a taxi, caving its roof under his weight.
Glass shattered. Fire crackled nearby.
The clones attacked like animals now. Feral. Hungry. Their eyes burned with mirrored rage. One grabbed his leg, another his throat. The third raised a claw to slash down at his chest.
For a moment—he felt nothing.
No fear.
No pain.
Just... silence inside.
He closed his eyes as the claws descended.
Then—there was a sound.
A deep growl.
From the shadows of the ruined street, two shapes charged out. Fast. Heavy. Their paws cracked asphalt under their speed.
Ken and Angel.
Ken hit first, his massive jaws clamping down on the attacking clone’s arm, biting straight through bone and blood-forged flesh. He twisted, ripping the limb free with a roar that echoed through the burning block.
Angel lunged past him, claws flashing. She raked her talons across another clone’s face, carving it open from jaw to scalp in a spray of black blood.
The clones recoiled, their attention shifting.
The clone Lucifer lay half-sunk into the crushed taxi, breathing heavy, blood dripping from his mouth. His red eyes flicked up, watching them fight.
Ken turned, baring his fangs.
"Get up," he snarled. His voice was thick, rumbling with rage. "You’re not done yet."
Angel didn’t speak. She landed in front of clone Lucifer, standing between him and the others, her hackles raised, teeth bared, saliva dripping onto the scorched hood of the car.
The other clones circled, blood aura flickering around their hands. Their movements were jerky, broken—like puppets trying to remember their strings.
One lunged at Angel.
She sidestepped with lightning speed, slashing its throat. Black blood sprayed across her fur. Before it fell, Ken smashed into its side, sending it flying into a burning storefront.
Two more came at him. He caught one by the skull, squeezed until its eyes burst, and threw it into the second with bone-breaking force. The impact shattered ribs, collapsed a lung. Neither rose again.
Clone Lucifer pushed himself up from the taxi, his vision blurred from blood loss. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes burned with renewed clarity.
He saw Angel turn slightly, golden eyes meeting his.
She growled low.
"Stand," she said softly. "Or die like them."
He blinked once.
Then nodded.
His aura pulsed out in a single wave—crimson light rippling across the ground. The clones surrounding them hesitated, faltering mid-step, their heads turning towards him as though compelled.
He stepped forward.
Blood dripped down his back, pooling around his feet. But he didn’t falter. He raised his hand.
A blood spear formed in his palm, vibrating with compressed killing intent.
The closest clone rushed at him, claws flashing.
He thrust the spear forward.
It pierced through the clone’s mouth, exiting through the back of its skull in a spray of steaming blood. He kicked the corpse aside and turned to the next.
Ken and Angel moved with him—three predators in perfect synchrony.
Ken slammed into two clones at once, pinning them against a wall so hard their spines shattered like glass rods. Angel ripped another’s throat out, her claws hooking through vertebrae and tearing them free.
Clone Lucifer moved like liquid death. His spear spun in his grip, slicing open bellies, cracking ribs, severing spines. Each motion was graceful, precise, silent.
But inside—he felt that pulse again.
That heavy presence.
Adam.
Far away, yet so close.
He didn’t understand it. But instinct told him one thing:
If this being moved... everything would end.
His spear sliced through the last clone’s neck, sending its head spinning through the smoke-choked air. The corpse collapsed at his feet with a dull thud.
Silence fell across the ruined street. Fires crackled. Sirens wailed in the distance. Ash drifted down like snow.
Ken’s massive shoulders heaved with each breath, golden eyes scanning the darkness for more threats. Angel licked blood from her claws, her fur bristling, chest rising and falling quickly.
The clone Lucifer stood in the middle of it all, his blood-drenched spear dissolving into crimson mist.
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