Fog blanketed the streets of Paris until the lampposts were nothing but faint circles in the darkness. Everyone was going about their usual rounds, tracking down any trace of vampires.

Jeanne crossed her arms against the cold beside Domi, while Dante silently watched the alleyways. Vanitas, meanwhile, walked with his usual confident stride.

Everyone ran after Noe until they reached a small square swallowed by fog.

Their footsteps froze.

In the middle of the arena, you stood, holding a vampire by the neck, your fangs embedded in his throat. His body trembled with every drop of blood that disappeared, while your face remained calm and expressionless.

Silence fell.

Even Vanitas didn't say a word.

You finished drinking the blood, then slowly pulled out your fangs and mercilessly threw the vampire to the ground. His body crashed violently against the stones.

You wiped the blood from your lips, then raised your head to look at the strangers who were watching you.