Vampire: World of Blood
Chapter 220 220: Spawnhood IX

"Alive and aware, ha?"

Merciless muttered under his breath, his voice carrying both awe and caution.

Carmilla on the other hand began to speak.

'Master, it knows you created it. It recognizes your essence, your will. This... thing considers you its progenitor.'

For a brief moment, Merciless felt an odd sensation ripple through him, perhaps pride? To have birthed something so monumental, so utterly otherworldly, it left Merciless speaking his mind as he said out loudly.

"Hmmm... well, this was fate in a kind of way... I have no idea what Pandora Box would have created; as such, I had to boost my luck to such a degree that the outcome of randomness would have to end with it leaning towards my favor."

"Although just confirm you're telling me that it... knows me? That it's... what? Another child of mine?"

He asked his tone a mix of caution and amusement.

'In a sense, yes.'

Carmilla replied.

'And the signals it is sending me are telling me that it is waiting for your command, master.'

Merciless folded his arms, tilting his head as he regarded the massive entity.

The vast tentacles on the ship moved slowly, creating faint ripples in the fabric of reality itself. Each movement seemed with purposeful intent, as though the ship were studying its own existence, its own purpose.

As such, Merley looking at this, Merciless just nodded his head, as he said.

"I see....

'Your orders then, master.'

Carmilla asked to confirm Merciless's will.

But Merciless didn't answer; rather, he was thinking.

The implications of such a creation were staggering. If this ship was alive, then what did that mean for its intentions? Its capabilities? What purpose would it ultimately serve? And most importantly, how could he ensure it didn't become a liability—or worse, a threat to him; words are nothing more than sounds, as such actions speak louder than words.

As such, he inwardly sighed and said, knowing he had to make a decision right here and now.

"Tell it to lower its defenses and prepare itself."

Merciless commanded.

"I'm boarding it. I need to see what my... child truly is."

Carmilla hesitated, her voice soft but firm.

'Are you sure, Master? There's no telling what you'll find inside. It might not be entirely under your control yet.'

"That's precisely why I need to go."

Merciless replied.

His grin sharpened into something almost predatory.

"If it's mine, it'll obey... If not... well, I'll teach it who's in charge."

At these words, Carmilla sent back the message.

And soon after, the massive ship began to shift. The tentacles pulled inward slightly, curling protectively around its core. A glowing fissure opened along one of the golden spires, spilling light into the darkness below.

The light wasn't natural—its colors were impossible, hues that didn't exist in any spectrum Merciless could name.

It twisted and writhed as if it were beckoning him forward.

'Master!!...

Carmilla said quietly.

'It's opening for you.'

Merciless then replied.

"It's now or never, I guess...

With that said, Merciless flew towards the gateway, his weapon, and his captive, the petite female Glyden, who he trapped in a never-ending nightmare, flew right behind him.

And moments later he crosses the warp; lights of many colors, known and unknown, flash before his eyes, till eventually another scenery can be seen.

"Wowww...

Merciless said calmly but surprised nonetheless.

He was greeted by an overwhelming stillness. The air was thick and cloying, carrying an unnatural weight that pressed against his skin, though he knew it was all in his mind. The interior of the ship was a grotesque fusion of advanced technology and eldritch design.

The walls were dark flesh and unnatural-shaped; looking at them, they began to beat in and out like a slow-beat heart.

The floor was a grotesque blend of organic tissue and polished, tarnished gold, slick, and slightly warm to the touch. Each step Merciless took felt as though the ship itself inhaled and exhaled beneath his feet, and the moment he saw this, he could not help but think about his first meeting with Keziah.

On the other hand, though.

The place he ended up with had a ton of corridors.

For the normal eye, it would look like they stretched endlessly further than the eye can see or imagine; the entire place was dimly illuminated by the faint red glow of weird abstract-shaped crystal formations embedded in the walls.

Tendrils hung from the ceiling, each one unnervingly alive... some slithered lazily, while others curled back at the proximity of Merciless's towering frame when he passed by.

It was clear this ship was no mere vessel; it was aware, watching, breathing. Every sound and every movement felt amplified, echoing like whispers in a cathedral of madness. And the ship was picking up on that.

Yet to make Merciless distance short, the ship bends and folds space in itself to make its Great Father's journey to the control room shorter.

At the far end, a massive archway loomed. Its frame was crafted from twisted and fused bones, plated with a material that resembled tarnished gold, streaked with veins of blackened blood.

Merciless, of course, felt space was being controlled here, but also the geometry as well.

One step for him would be akin to trillions.

As such, the Archways came into view very quickly.

The structure seemed to shift, bending in on itself as Merciless drew closer as if the ship were subtly altering its geometry to guide him inward. Beyond the archway was a chamber that opened like a wound, impossibly vast, stretching far beyond the physical constraints of the ship's exterior.

The chamber itself was a grotesque masterpiece clearly one of alien design by human logic in every regard, its ceiling hidden in layers of pulsating shadows and faint crimson illumination.

At its heart stood a monstrous roundtable, grown rather than built, its surface an undulating patchwork of fleshy tissue and gleaming metal.

Looking at it, a sense of nostalgia hit Merciless as the scene of Michelle's own roundtable came into his mind.

Around the table were lesser thrones, of course.

As of right now, 30 seats were present, all of which were made from an otherworldly black metal with a fleshy exterior.

The table, on the other hand, pulsed faintly with a deep, rhythmic light dimming in, and dimming out, and the edges were lined with an alien console, a fusion of both flesh and advanced machinery. The room, however, was bathed in suffocating darkness, broken only by the dull crimson and sporadic flashes of violet light that bled across the walls. They were alive with ridges and pulsating conduits, each coursing with what looked like glowing blood, unlike the red crystals on the walls outside this place.

The air itself carried the scent of iron, ash, and something Merciless could not really put his finger on despite the close-to-home sensation; and with all honesty it felt familiar, but he could not understand why this scent felt familiar for some reason, but it was something that clawed at the edge of memory.

Or rather, Mercy's memory.

But that aside.

At the center of it all, elevated on a dais of coiled bone and glistening metal, was a throne.

'Big me...

Mercy called out to Merciless, as he asked.

'Do you feel that?'

Of course, Merciless responded.

"Yeah... that thing... it's calling me...

Merciless said, as he walked towards the throne, something was wrong here; this thing was pulling him towards it.

'Be careful.'

"..."

However, Merciless did not answer; something inside him established a connection with the throne the moment he came close to it, and that when he realized it, the thing calling out was Pride and Vanity.

As if the ship itself was an extension of both concepts.

As he walked towards the throne, vision began to invade him.

[Oi Merciless runnnnn.... if Eos catch us, we are dead.]

The voice was familiar.

It was the sound of a man, and he was seeing through the perspective of the man; it sounded almost like...

"Quincy...

Merciless said, but he was not sure because the visions were multiple.

As they flood him like a dam.

[Bloody hands, screaming men, women, and children alike, flying limbs, withering lives, and corpse after corpse in my way... Eventually, all life looks and sounds the same when put to rest.]

The sight of a familiar armored woman, looking towards Ragnar and surprisingly himself, but something was odd—the self he was seeing seemed vastly stronger than his current.

And weird enough, the woman who said that to him was Scáthach; he watched her vividly through Ragnar's eyes, and Ragnar looked at Scáthach, and Scáthach looked at future Merciless, who just looked at Scáthach at that time and said.

Smiling as he said.

"Ohhhh... so this was the time when I first unconsciously used "Mother-bloods," Law... can't lie, this feels weird, looking at my younger self... hmmm, well here is some advice, young me... time is an infinite cup of water; anything is possible within the infinite sea of choices; the hard part is, however, is taking the time to find the right choice through an infinite pre-destined... master this and you will master the power of your irreversibility... remember you are the main character of your own life."

Future Merciless said, looking at current Merciless, who was looking at him through the eyes of Scáthach.

But the vision switched again; another one came to view, but this time it was weird; he saw... himself, but not his current self.

It was...

'Wait... I remember this.'

The person who talked was Mercy.

The voice of a familiar woman echoed as he looked at the curious child.

[So, this is the boy... A-4081.]

The figure murmured, the name rolling off their tongue with a vivid interest in the existence of the boy.

[Interesting... very interesting.]

The man's voice echoed through the chamber as he gazed at the boy confined within a stark white cell. Surrounding the boy was an array of high-powered reality anchors and ancient artifacts, each radiating an unsettling energy. At the center of the room, the boy was forced to stand within a ritual circle—a binding construct designed to hold him in place, preventing even the slightest movement.

The boy looked unfazed as he looked at the scientist and said.

"When I get out of here, and I will...I'm turning this whole place into a bloodbath. I don't know what kind of sick shit you did to me, but believe me, it's not gonna matter. Every single one of you is on my list, and trust me, it's personal now. Oh, and by the way, your ass is disgusting mere humans relying on some weird supernatural shit. I mean, truly repulsive... what happen to good old one-on-one... and that goes for you too you freaky doll bitch.... what the hell kind of ability takes away people's powers like that... aghhhh FWUUUUCKKK!!!... Sigh... Don't think I'll forget any of your faces when I'm painting the walls with you."

Kid Mercy said, his mouth being the only thing that could move.

The scientist, a wiry man with a sharp, clinical voice, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Merciless, who stood immobilized in the ritual circle. Despite being bound, Mercy's toxic, chaotic words still reverberated through the sterile room like venom.

On the other hand, another scientist of course began to talk to the head scientist analyzing Mercy as she asked with great worry.

[Doc, is he supposed to do that... how is he talking in that place, the concept of physical movement doesn't exist in that place... so how is he talking... being trapped there is like being physically stuck in existence it's like all your molecules stop in that room so tell me how is he talking.]

But the answer she got scared her.

"It would seem....

He hesitated, it shouldn't be possible, yet here this monster is in the form of an overweight child was doing the impossible.

But speak his mind nonetheless, as he gives his hypothesis.

[...That Subject A-4081 is adapting to the Phenomenon Room. Even while under the influence of A-3220's Supernatural negating field, his resilience is... evolving no rather it is like he is rebuilding himself passively in some unorthodox way to overcome these phenomena.... at this rate, he will escape if we don't act quickly.]

He adjusted his glasses and tapped a few commands on the control panel, causing streams of data to cascade down the monitors.

The vision was vivid, but again Merciless did not stay here for long, yet as he got closer to throne, vision of other people, came into his mind.

[Mother... when will we get to see father, I don't even know how he looks... Isdoom say with curiosity.]

A young boy's voice, filled with curiosity, echoed as he spoke in a third-person format of language, his pink eyes fixed on the woman before him. She had striking blue hair, and pink eyes, and her skin shimmered in a cool azure hue. Draped in a yellow cloak that billowed around her, tentacles sprouted from beneath, swaying slightly as she moved. When she spoke, her voice resonated, each word carrying an eerie, haunting echo.

Her face was hidden in the darkness of the cloak with pieces of the hair showing outwards from it. As she replied to the boy... Telling him as such.

[I don't know... Purgatory is a vast, treacherous place. Whenever he comes back, I guess... especially with the four Prime Stars and their father, the Pure Emperor, hot on his heels. The good news is he's trying to reform the great Demonic armies of Hell, Purgatory, Underworld, and the Netherworld by conquering the Demonic Sectors... sigh.]

[I miss the bastard too, but the other golden brides and I will hold the line until he returns. However, it's not looking good for us on the outer barriers, especially with the Pure Emperor's forces pushing us back. Well, at least we can count our blessings that Michelle's Overlords and your father's Maggot-borns are keeping the inaccessible barriers intact, we are outnumbered, but we have quality over quantity. Also, it won't be long before reinforcements come from the other Composite's as well.]

The boy looked up, above his father great army of a trillion strong was above, many ships were stationed, and with the monarchs guarding this place, their safety was reassured, as such he sighed and said.

[Sigh... Glory be to the Dark Father Isdoom said with the greatest respect possible.]

The woman just nodded as she too looked up their fleets, holding the boy's hand as they walked the garden of the great citadel.

[Yes... Glory be to Darling.]

Vision after vision assaulted him, overwhelming and bizarre. He saw himself, fragmented and distorted, and he saw through the eyes of countless others scattered across space and time, or at least, that's what he thought was happening.

It was disorienting, chaotic, and maddening. Yet deep within, he knew the answer was within reach. If he could just sit upon the throne, it would all make sense. The visions, the ship, the strange call drawing him forward, it all pointed to that grotesque seat of power.

And so, he walked.

Till he finally reaches the throne.

The throne loomed closer, its immense, nightmarish presence undeniable.

When he finally stood before it, he stopped. His glowing blue eyes narrowed, taking in every horrifying detail of the creation before him.

The throne pulsed with life...veins snaking across its surface throbbed in sync with the heartbeat of the ship.

He reached out a hand, brushing his fingers across the surface. It was warm, slick, and disturbingly pliable in places like living tissue stretched too tightly over an unidentifiable structure. It wasn't just alive, it was the ship's heart, its very core. He understood instantly: destroy the throne, and the ship would die.

There was no hesitation in him. Slowly, he turned and lowered himself onto the throne.

The moment his weight settled, the entire chamber reacted violently. The floor beneath him rippled as if the ship screamed in delight.

"It's a perfect fit...

Merciless said, but soon, a voice came into his mind.

{Father....

"Haaa?!... Are y-you... well the ship?"

Merciless asked as the voice of a woman rang in his ears.

The ship then responded.

{Yes!!}

"I see....

Merciless responded as he asked.

"Soo... tell me... what are you exactly... or rather what is this throne... what are those visions?"

However, the answer he got, was insane.

{I have no name... but... I know I am a Divine Weapon... or as you people would call me... a Divine Arm... a weapon born with a law... or a weapon with a Divine Law infuse in it.}

"Wait for real... so those visions I saw, those were because of your Law... Hmmm, can you explain this law to me?"

He asked calmly.

{Affirmative! My Law is called Divine Law: Mother Blood. I am intrinsically tied to the concept of blood and its pathways. What this Law allows is unparalleled, through it, you can connect to all bloodlines, and all pathways, and witness the past, present, and future through the eyes of those tied to you by blood.}

The Mother ship said as it continued.

{For example, you can see the future through the eyes of your descendants, the past through your predecessors, and even the memories of those you've shared blood with across any point in time.}

{But this isn't limited to just linear time. My power stretches into non-linear timelines as well, allowing glimpses into alternate possibilities and realities. However, such a feat demands a price, and that price is through Chi, Aether, and Divinity energy are the currency of this power.}

{The deeper you go, the more these resources are drained from the ship's main energy cores. Right now, our capabilities are limited to minor visions of the past, present, and near future between linear, and non-linear.}

{With enough power, though, we could go further... far beyond what is currently possible. We could even intrude upon the blood ties and memory pathways of others, breaking into genetic bonds that don't even belong to us. But... that level of control and manipulation is still beyond my reach for now... we need more energy and a lot of it.}

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