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1

Clara Montague sped along Route 66, her destination unknown.
Darkness enveloped the night of November 1.
Dawn: 6:41 a.m.

As she attempted to overtake a vintage Chevrolet, the gear stick suddenly gave way. She rattled it and pressed the clutch, but it refused to respond. Her trusty Ford veered off the road in a cloud of dust. Seconds later, the engine sputtered to a stop. Frantic, she searched for a flashlight in the trunk. However, the first rays of daylight were already peeking over the horizon.

The realization hit her hard; this faithful car, her loyal companion for a decade, had reached its end. And stranded in the desert with the rising sun, so might she.

The disintegrating car, the fleeting moments, and the impending sunrise painted a bleak picture. The ticking clock on your cracked iPhone screen read 6:05 a.m., only a few minutes left before the perilous transition.

For a decade, you've been on these courier runs, each year less rewarding than the last, navigating the desert roads at night, hiding from the sun in cramped spaces during the day. The routine had become monotonous, a feeling akin to being trapped in an unchanging vessel.

But now, adrenaline surged through your veins, igniting long-dormant nerves as the eastern sky brightened. Your hands trembled with nerves, a sensation you thought had faded away years ago. You leaned over the hood, finding the cable clutch in disarray, emblematic of a neglected machine with deeper issues, mirroring your own overlooked warning signs.

In just sixteen minutes—according to your phone—you might meet the same fate as your failing vehicle. Amidst the desolate landscape, you strained to recall any morsel of mortal knowledge that could offer salvation in this dire moment. Something from your past life, something you once learned, might hold the key to survival.

Working with cars became your passion. Without much guidance from family or traditional education, you took the wheel early, eager to explore the mechanical intricacies that fascinated you. Your escape from the mundane confines of formal education led you on a journey from city to city, immersing yourself in the art of automotive craftsmanship. Your love lay in understanding, repairing, and reviving these mechanical marvels—cars were your canvas, their engines your symphony..

You hastily collect your deliveries, leaving the decrepit Honda behind as you scan the roadside for any salvageable items—a futile attempt yielding nothing but discarded debris. Across the road, you stumble upon an old speed limit sign indicating a mere 20 mph, an indication of a different, perhaps industrial or residential area long abandoned.

Aware of the diminishing time, you sprint southward, hurdling over shrubs and stones until the silhouette of an abandoned structure emerges in the distance—potential refuge. The eastern sky transforms from star-studded darkness to a tinted hue of blue and purple, signaling 6:30 a.m. Memories flicker back of a time when life appeared lucid, your purpose vividly defined. Yet, at a pivotal moment, something altered the trajectory of your existence.

As the sun nears its ascent, casting its early light upon the landscape, the recollection of a past vision contrasts sharply with the urgency of your current flight towards the derelict building.

The mysterious world of the supernatural unfolded when your life took a drastic turn one evening while working at Target. Watching the sun disappear behind the hills during a break, little did you know your fate was about to alter drastically. In the midst of your shift, a grim encounter awaited you in the loading dock—a confrontation that would mark the end of your mortal existence.

Upon awakening, reborn with an insatiable Hunger and drenched in your own blood, your assailant refrained from labeling you as a mere vampire. Instead, you were introduced to a lineage, a clan deeply rooted in history, existing long before the emergence of civilizations—ancient and shrouded in secrecy.

Your initiator spoke of your belongingness to a clan that predated the annals of time, a lineage that thrived before the inception of most cities, save for one—the City of Enoch.

The allure of a dream where your real parents would someday appear to remedy all hardships might have lingered in your mind as a child. Yet, as adulthood grew increasingly bleak, that dream faded into the realm of improbability. You sensed a disconnect—a sense that something had gone awry, that your existence was destined for a grander purpose.

Unbeknownst to you, your lineage bore ties to an enigmatic Family, a clandestine connection obscured within an obscure cadet branch, nearly forgotten in the annals of history. Struggling through your darkest days, faced with unemployment and the looming threat of eviction, a simple act—pawned an old silver-framed family photo—unwittingly summoned the attention of this mysterious lineage.

Violetta emerged like a surreal apparition, an embodiment of exoticism amid the mundane American landscapes of strip malls and border town stations. Adorned flawlessly, her hair a cascade of midnight black, her eyes veiled in cosmetic secrets from distant lands—Venice, Prague, Samarkand—far removed from the grim reality you knew. As she entered the grungy laundromat, bystanders scattered, unwilling to bear witness to what unfolded.

In the midst of your agony, as screams echoed unheard, Violetta imparted Lesson One upon your awakening: in this world, aid would only come from the Family. A chilling realization tethered to a destiny far beyond ordinary comprehension.

The contrast between your upbringing within the Family and the horrifying reality of your new siblings left an indelible mark. The Giovanni clan's twisted, debased hierarchy stood in stark contrast to your lineage—the della Passiglia, a branch distinguished by its divergence from the mainline depravity. While the core Family descended further into degeneracy, your ancestors had traversed the Orient, amassing treasures and insights, evading the calcified, sadistic grasp of the main clan.

Violetta, your ancient sire, bridged the gap between worlds, but her antiquity and immersion in memories hindered her adaptation to the rapidly evolving present. Recognizing the Family's desperate need for innovation, for liberation from their archaic, repulsive ways, she sought your perspective, granting you autonomy to contribute in whatever manner served the Family's interests.

As the century drew to a close, the future loomed uncertain for a clan steeped in archaic practices, confined to mansions, tormenting the spirits of their forebears. In contemplating how best to aid this decaying institution, you pondered the necessity for change and advancement.

Choosing a path divergent from the Family's elders, you resolved to infuse modernity and progressive ideas into the rigid confines of the Giovanni. A commitment to uphold the Family's interests, never faltering in your allegiance to Violetta, became your guiding principle as you charted a course toward rejuvenation and relevance.