Awakening A New Generation of Hunters

Christian P.O.V

Although none could betray me, I made a bloodbound promise—to protect my Pannak as fiercely as I would my brother. Not because they were bound to me by blood, but because they were my family. 

For over a century, I've walked beside them. My Pannak, bound by loyalty to my brother and me, are more than allies—they are the closest thing to family I've known. In their unwavering devotion, they've proven what humanity never could: trust, honour, and sacrifice without question. 

Time has forged us into something unbreakable. Through wars, betrayals, and the endless trials of this plane, we've stood together. Their loyalty wasn't born of obligation; it grew with every battle, every shared scar, and every moment of triumph. For all their supernatural power and dark origins, they've shown me a truth far brighter than the light I once sought. 

The first to arrive was a colony of vampires, their presence shifting the air with an unspoken tension. Leading them was Donavan, a battle-worn soldier forged in the fires of mankind's wars. By his side stood Chiara, a fiery red-haired succubus, as dangerous as she was mesmerizing. Donavan had helped her wrestle with the darkness of her own nature, taming her lethal urges with an unrelenting resolve. Together, they were a volatile force—a balance of destruction and redemption. With a nod of greeting, they claimed the stairs, their connection as sharp as a blade poised for attack.

Moments later, Aibek and Loralei swept into the room. Despite living in my brother's house, they always seemed drawn here, like moths to the flame. Aibek, a demon of raw power and the shadowed heir of the White Moon, moved with the controlled stillness of a predator. His neutral expression betrayed nothing, but I pitied him all the same. Bound to Loralei, a siren whose voice could incite chaos, he was the embodiment of stoic endurance. Loralei, however, was his exact opposite—a tempest of energy and relentless chatter, her presence both captivating and unnerving. With a slight nod of acknowledgment, she carried on as though the world bent to her whim.

I leaned back, amused, sipping the liquid of legends as the room grew heavier with power. Then came the flutter of black leather feathers slicing through the air, and Raven descended. Her wings folded as she landed gracefully, after circling her fated Alden with an intensity that bordered on possessive. In an instant, the raven became a woman, her transformation seamless, pale and hauntingly beautiful. Alden, a vampire with unrivaled speed and the patience of a saint, wrapped an arm around her waist. His calm contrasted her curse—black magic that had marked her soul. Yet somehow, he had claimed her, taming the wild bird who would have destroyed anyone else.

Watching them all, a dark thought lingered in the back of my mind. They had found their fated ones, the other halves that grounded them amidst chaos.

And me?

My time would come. Somewhere, my own fated one awaited me—a soul destined to bind with mine and restore balance to the darkness within me. A bond of magic and eternity, one I could only hope to find before the looming shadows claimed my soul.

But there's another story that began two years back. A story humanity's folklore is too blind, too fragile, to fathom. It's a tale whispered in the shadows, a warning etched in blood. A war is coming—its echoes ripple through the air, laced with trepidation and drenched in the stench of inevitable ruin. I stumbled upon it through Hell's misfortune, and now, it's clawed its way into my existence. 

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2 years back

It began with a search—a desperate, cursed search for my mother, the angel Alexandria. My path led me to Eden, a place no mortal could comprehend. The harmony was unsettling, the beauty too perfect, too cold. Wards older than time veiled it from even the most gifted supernaturals. Somehow, I passed through them, the sense of familiarity biting at my spine like an unseen predator. 

There, amidst the trees, stood the forbidden one—not the cursed beacon of temptation humanity has woven into their myths, but something far older, far darker. The tree was a labyrinth of secrets, its branches heavy with truths too monstrous for man to bear. At its roots lay the Pool of Despair, a black mirror that churned with unsettling life as I approached. 

I knelt by its edge, and the stillness shattered. The water erupted, a violent symphony of fifty shades of blue, the depths groaning as though awakening from a millennia of slumber. Then, it spoke—its voice a cacophony of anguish and malice, layered with an unsettling calm that chilled my blood. 

"You are the son of the most powerful angel-turned-demon," it hissed, each word twisting like a knife. "Yet, you do not rule beside the Morningstar?" 

I clenched my fists, memories of my father—his fall, his fury—coursing through me like poison. "It is not my job to rule," I spat, my voice cold, defiant. 

The pool bubbled, its surface breaking into sinister patterns, as though it were laughing at my audacity. "Ah," it whispered. "The angel's child. Neither light nor dark. You tread the line of the forsaken, untouched by devotion, untouched by fate. And yet, you seek her?" 

"My mother," I growled, my patience slipping. "How do I find her?" 

The pool was unrelenting, its curiosity gnawing like a ravenous beast. It demanded answers, forcing me into a twisted barter—my truths for its secrets. Anger bubbled in my chest as I realized I had no choice. Only after I fed its insatiable hunger did it grant me the decency of a single cryptic reply. 

"As you can see," I hissed at the churning water, "I serve no one. Neither the light nor the dark holds dominion over me. I am an abomination, bound to rot in this plane—or to watch it crumble before my eyes." 

The pool's voice rippled through the clearing, mocking me with its ancient, hollow tone. "You are young and furious, little prince. Your anger is your strength, yet it blinds you. You grant favors to build empires, yet you scorn the cost of greatness." 

I clenched my fists, the weight of its words striking nerves I hadn't known were raw. "I didn't come here to be judged. I've built more than empires. I've risen where angels and demons alike have fallen. My power is greater than both. I came for answers, not to be recruited into some cosmic war I care nothing about." 

The water stilled for a moment, then swirled, dragging shadows into spirals that threatened to spill over the pool's edge. "Ah," it murmured, "but you are not as removed as you think. You are a prince—one hand in darkness, the other in light. Immortality is a gift you spurn, and yet endless power beckons from the restraints you refuse to shatter." 

The mention of war pulled at something deep inside me, but my mother was all that mattered. "War?" I spat, contempt dripping from my voice. "I am neither dark nor light, to my existence I am a forsaken! I care little for the vanity and pride that fuels such foolishness. All I seek is my mother." 

"Then you will find no peace," the pool replied coldly. "If you are truly forsaken, the age of one hundred and twenty-seven will be your last—unless fate binds you to your destined one. Test the arms of time, and you will see. You will never find your mother if you deny her existence." 

The cryptic threat lingered in the air like smoke, choking me. Frustration boiled over, the weight of prophecy crushing my resolve. I stormed away from Eden, a fledgling of anger and confusion. The sanctuary's pristine beauty mocked me as I left, its perfection a cruel reflection of everything I could never have. I cursed it to the gutters, my words lost to the wind. 

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For two years, I wandered aimlessly, my rage hardening into resolve. Each step took me further from answers and closer to despair. My powers grew, unchecked and volatile, a testament to the forsaken existence I had embraced. 

Then Loki found me, weaving himself permanently into my life. His presence was as disruptive as it was stabilizing. Within a decade, we amassed wealth beyond imagination, but his greatest gift wasn't gold—it was the stability he forced upon me. He loathed my solitude and sent Aibek, Loralei, and Chiara to guard the magical lands we claimed. 

They became my protectors and companions, grounding me when the darkness within threatened to consume me. Yet even their loyalty couldn't shield me from what came next. A force beyond reckoning loomed, a storm that clawed at the boundaries of existence, threatening to shatter the fragile balance of realms. 

And in its eye, I saw my destiny—the abomination bound not just to this plane but to the tides of war that would decide the fate of all creation. What does tomorrow hold?