In the labyrinthine underbelly of Busan, a city where night never seems to end, reigns Choi San, a centuries-old vampire with control over the darker elements. His world is one of cold dominance and strict hierarchies-a place where humans are strict...
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𓊈𒆜 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌 𝖂𝖔𝖔𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖌 𒆜𓊉
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A few days had passed since my heated confrontation with San, and I had managed to avoid any direct contact with him, though it wasn't without effort. The mansion felt both vast and confining, filled with shadows that seemed to whisper of our strained silence. I had taken to observing from a distance, watching the others more closely, partly to distract myself and partly out of a newfound curiosity about this world I was still grappling to understand.
Today, there was an unusual flurry of activity in the mansion. The vampires, usually so casual in their modern attire, were adorned in what could only be described as regal outfits that seemed to whisper of centuries long past. The men wore elegant suits that hinted at Victorian influences, with tailored jackets and crisp, high-collared shirts. The women were in dresses that featured tight corsets and flowing skirts, the fabrics rich and the colors deep and somber.
I watched from the grand staircase, my usual path through the mansion taking me overhead, as they prepared for what appeared to be an important event. Their demeanor was different when dressed like this; even their posture seemed to change, each movement calculated and full of an ancient grace. It was like stepping back in time, each outfit a page from a history book I had never read.
San was among them, his attire a stark, dark suit that fitted him impeccably, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean figure. His presence commanded attention even in silence, and though I told myself I was here to observe, I couldn't help but watch him the most. There was an air about him that spoke of centuries lived, of power and restraint mingled in equal measure. The sight of him in such a setting—so different from the man I had come to know—was both striking and unsettling.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as I watched him, the distance I had placed between us feeling more like a chasm now. He moved with the others, a part of this ancient, regal world that I was still on the fringes of understanding. The realization hit me then: they were not just vampires; they were relics of an era long gone, surviving through the ages, adapting yet somehow remaining the same at their core.
It was in this moment, hidden in the shadows of the upper landing, that I truly saw them for what they were—lords and ladies of a timeless court, creatures of the night eternally bound to their centuries-old customs. The weight of their history seemed to hang in the air, heavy and potent.
The realization was magical and sobering at the same time. Here I was, a human among immortals, caught up in the currents of their timeless existence. The beauty of it was undeniable, the regal attire not just clothing but a declaration of their enduring legacy.
As they moved through the mansion, preparing to leave for their gathering, I felt an unexpected pull, a desire to be part of their world that conflicted sharply with my need to keep my distance. The duality of my feelings left me rooted to the spot, a silent observer caught between the past and the present, between longing and reality.
