A/N: I split chapter 11 into two chapters for a smoother read. Enjoy! : )

Deep, long in darkness, he stood. Beyond the misty veil of tangible darkness, the world shifted around him. There was peace, yet silence, as Rhazien stared at his corpse before him, the shell of his former self. As Rhazien stood amidst the opaque darkness, he could sense a strange transformation around him. The mist moved and danced until it stood still in the flowing stream.

From the darkness stood another figure cloaked in shadows. Rhazien's heart raced as he peered through the thick veil of darkness, trying to make out the figure. The shadows surrounding the figure seemed to pulse with a spark of energy as if they were alive and breathing. Rhazien could feel the weight of the figure's gaze upon him, and he shuddered involuntarily.

Beyond the shadows that kissed his skin, the figure slowly emerged from the shadows, revealing a dark and imposing presence. Rhazien could sense a powerful aura emanating from the individual as if it were a force to be reckoned with. Its eyes glowed like sapphires, and its voice echoed through the darkness, deep and ominous. Rhazien felt a chill run down his spine as if he were in the presence of something beyond powerful. The figure stood in silence, observing Rhazien with intensity.

"What is this place?" Rhazien questions, calling out to the being. The closer it got, the more their form started to look human-like.

"Your cell," the voice whispers.

My cell? 

"Yes, your cell. . ." It answers Rhazien with a vague answer.

"Time is running out. . . It's a matter of time before the world crumbles. A new dawn is upon you, and a new death awaits you. Are you willing to sacrifice everything you knew for justice?"

The question swirled in Rhazien's mind briefly, but it felt like an eternity. He knew too well that every time he tried to seek justice for the weak, they became the lambs to the slaughter. It was a losing game, a cruel joke that the universe played on those who dared to care. The more he thought about it, the more anger was lit in his gut, consuming every inch of his being. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest as if it was trying to break free from the chains of injustice. Yet, he knew he had to keep his cool, for he was the only hope for the voiceless, the forgotten, and the oppressed.

"There's nothing I'd rather do than raise hell and hunt down those who dare to get in my way. If I must sacrifice every ounce of blood, bone, and strength to tear down their rein, so be it." Rhazien stared down the being before him.

"Good. . ." The voice murmurs before coming into the light.

Rhazien furrowed his brow in bewilderment as he gazed at the mysterious entity before him. It was as if he was staring into a mirror, examining the being who bore an astonishing resemblance to himself. The similarity was so striking that, for a fleeting moment, he felt as if he was looking at a clone of his reflection. The edges of the stranger's hair were adorned with delicate streaks of white, while their eyes were the vivid shade of sapphires, captivating and mysterious.

"Your so-called 'friend' is about to make his mark. And if you don't act fast, the boy will suffer the consequences—the same fate as his mother," he warns, raising his gaze.

Rhazien clenched his fists, his determination unwavering as he spoke, "If Crain wants a battle, I'll give him a war," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction.

"Good," he pauses, "we have a job to do." The being before him grins.

Narrowing his gaze by half an inch, "You mentioned 'we,' yet you fail to mention who I'm speaking to. Who are you?" he questions as his voice reflects his steely demeanour.

"I'm you, the monster you created," he grins as his gaze grows darker.

"You need me. I have the power to give and the power to take. I shall guide you through your transformation, though you must resist the hunger-- the craving for the devil's wine. Should you fail, you will never be the same. . . Is it a deal?" he boasts darkly, extending his hand for him to shake.

Rhazien didn't hesitate even for a moment; he reached out and took the being's hand, his grip firm and confident. As their hands met, the man's grip tightened around Rhazien's hand, pulling him forcefully forward.

"You may whisper the name of sin and call me Rain, for we shall sing for the damage we've done-."

"And the worse things we'll do." Rhazien murmurs, completing Rain's sentence with a determined grin.

Rhazien had enough of the failing to deliver justice, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He was ready to break some rules if it meant protecting the people he cared about. After all, sometimes you have to be the hero the world deserves, even if it means putting yourself in danger. . .

As Rhazien's consciousness slips into the abyss, Rain's hand dissolves into a dense, inky mist that slithers up Rhazien's arm with spectral tendrils. The tendrils of smoke curl and twist like serpents, leaving behind a trail of cold shivers on Rhazien's skin as if touched by the frigid breath of death itself. The ethereal mist seems to have a life of its own as it crawls up Rhazien's flesh with hypnotic, sinuous grace, a haunting reminder of Rain's fading presence in the world of the living.

*****

Breathe. . .

All it takes is a greedy breath to come back to life. Through his dry, cracked lips, they peel apart before a stream entered his dry, saliva-ridden throat. A spark of life kickstarted his heart into a frenzy, causing him to inhale sharply before his eyes peered open. Regrettably, the air began to choke his lungs as it was coated with heavy aftermath of dust, iron, and dirt, causing him to roll over on his side. He began coughing uncontrollably before it turned into a heavy wheeze.

He let out a faint groan as his head began to throb like a heavy drumbeat.

Breathe. . .

As his vision starts to return, he turns his head to the side, noticing Corvus picking out the remaining eyeball from the vampire slain earlier. With great effort, Rhazien slowly starts to lift himself from the ground, using his palms to push against the rough and dirty surface of the stone floor. Despite the pain and fatigue that consumed him, he managed to gather enough strength to stand up fully, grabbing his cane, glove, and the journal that was lying next to him with a swift motion. His cane hitting the floor echoed through the empty room, marking his triumph over his weakness.

The moment he stood up, he wasted no time making his way out of the apothecary. With his long strides, Corvus returned to his side, scanning the darkness before him with its keen eyes. The flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls, but they provided enough light to guide him safely out of the maw of the underworld. As he walked past each candle, they flickered and eventually extinguished one by one, leaving behind a trail of darkness in his wake.

While navigating the poorly illuminated crypt, unease crept over him. The shadows seemed to dance with every step he took, casting eerie shapes on the damp stone walls. But just as he began to feel overwhelmed by the darkness, a glimmer of light caught his eye. As he made his way towards it, he saw the soft glow of the moonlight pouring in through the crypt's entrance. At that moment, a sense of calm washed over him, knowing he was still alive and had found his way out.

The sharp static from his earpiece became a clear signal again as he stood on ground level. Then, he placed his pointer finger on the smooth surface of the device. Just as he was about to speak, he looked up toward the sky, noticing the essence of the sky began to weep.

"James. . . what's your status?" he calls out calmly.

"Rhazien?! Where have you been? I've been trying to radio you for the last thirty minutes!" he exclaims in frustration and concern.

As the realization of the weighty truth dawned upon him, he felt a heavy burden descend upon his shoulders. It was as if the weight of the world had been placed upon his frame, causing his insides to twist and churn with an overwhelming frenzy of emotions. Every fibre of his being was consumed by a tumultuous storm of thoughts and feelings, leaving him utterly exhausted and spent.

"I am bitten. . ."

James' heart dropped when he heard Rhazien's exhausted voice on the other end.

"What?"

"James, there's not a lot of time. I am turning. . . Crain led me into a trap, resulting in another monster biting me. Can you tell me anything about Crain's location?" he inquires, slowly leaving the graveyard.

"Rhazien. You just had to go chasing after those creatures. . ." James trails off on the other line before sighing heavily.

"You lucky bastard are in luck. Crain is heading westbound toward the church where Callum's mother was buried," he explains as Rhazien makes his way into the quiet streets of London.

"On it." Rhazien stops by a deserted corner of the street. He looks up at the bright street lamp and notices several moths clinging to the hot glass above him.

"Just be careful. You don't know what 'Psycho' will do."

"Well, he's about to be terrified. I'm not giving up on the kid."

The night sky was enveloped in darkness as cold droplets of rain fell from above, creating a symphony of sounds as they hit the ground. The raindrops were scattered and erratic, causing Rhazien to become soaked slowly. The streetlights flickered and cast a dim glow on the wet pavement, creating a hazy and surreal atmosphere. The scent of damp earth mixed with the freshness of rain filled the air, making it feel crisp and clean. The raindrops seemed to dance in the air, creating a mesmerizing display as they reflected the light from the streetlights. Despite the discomfort of being soaked, Rhazien couldn't help but feel a sense of dread taking over him.

The world around him became blurry as a sharp ringing filled his ears. Suddenly, a passerby caught his attention, and his senses went into overdrive. He felt an intense hunger rising within him and could hear the slow and steady beat of their heart. Despite the temptation, he clenched his left hand into a fist, feeling the sharp talons forming beneath his skin. He quickly stuffed his hand into his pocket, determined not to give in to his primal instincts. As he walked away, he felt his skin crawl, like something was trying to break free from its confines.

Resist.

He began quickening his pace before sprinting down the street toward the church. He couldn't allow Callum to suffer the same fate as his uncle or mother. Rhazien knew if Callum died, it was game over. Everything he fought for would come crumbling down, and he would never forgive himself for failing.

"I'm coming, Callum. Just hold on. . ." Rhazien mutters under his breath. A dark chuckle echoes throughout his mind, something he can only hear.