Vampire Progenitor System-Chapter 167: An Echo Meeting The Original

He stood among the bodies.

The clone Lucifer’s chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths. His bare feet shifted slightly against the blood-slicked pavement, toes curling against cooling flesh. His black hair fell forward, dripping with streaks of red. Around him lay the remains of dozens of clones—some torn in half, some decapitated, some burned beyond recognition by the crimson aura that still flickered faintly around his arms.

He looked down at his hands. Blood dripped from his fingertips, forming small crimson pools between his toes. His eyes glowed dimly—black sclera framing irises the colour of burning rubies. He raised his head, turning slowly to scan the silent courtyard.

Ken was slumped against a crumbled concrete barrier, his arm torn open to the bone, blood pooling under him. Luna lay beside him, unconscious but breathing, her chest rising and falling shallowly with each quiet gasp. Angel crouched next to them, her hair matted with soot and blood, her eyes locked onto the clone with silent fear. She didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Only watched as he turned away from them.

His gaze shifted north.

He could feel it. The real Lucifer’s aura. Deep. Heavy. Radiating through the world like a silent drumbeat that shook the bones of the earth. It pulsed with grief, pain, and something darker—a quiet rage that threatened to swallow everything around it.

The clone tilted his head slightly, listening to that pulse. For a moment, he felt something flicker in his chest. Something like recognition. Like belonging. But it passed as quickly as it came.

He took a step forward. Blood splashed against his calves. Then he he grew wings. Massive. Black. The feathers twitched once before igniting with faint red light, their edges flickering with heat.

He didn’t look back.

Not at Luna, who still breathed softly in the ruined street.

Not at Ken, who reached out a trembling hand toward him, his lips parting to speak before he fell unconscious again.

Not at Angel, whose tears slipped silently down her soot-streaked face.

He just rose.

His wings beat once, sending ash and blood swirling in a spiral around him. The cracked ground fell away beneath his bare feet. The bodies of fallen clones shrank below him as he rose higher and higher, clearing the burned rooftops and shattered glass. The rising sun painted his black feathers in streaks of crimson and gold, turning him into a silent spectre against the pale sky.

He felt nothing.

No loyalty to the humans below.

No regret for leaving them behind.

No gratitude for Luna’s quiet kindness earlier, when she had offered him her coat after he killed the hunters that attacked them. He remembered her small smile. Her trembling hands as she placed the jacket over his shoulders. He hadn’t understood it. He hadn’t felt it.

He felt only the pull of the aura ahead. The real Lucifer. The one whose blood sang within his veins like a distant echo of a song he was born to complete.

His wings flared wider, blood and red light trailing behind him as he cut through the morning sky. Below, Angel lifted her face, watching him disappear into the dawn. Tears fell harder down her cheeks. Her lips moved silently, words swallowed by the quiet.

"Please... come back..."

But he didn’t hear her.

The wind roared past his ears, carrying the distant screams of a dying city. Smoke billowed up in dark towers from shattered streets. Helicopters buzzed like insects far below, their searchlights scanning burning buildings for survivors. He ignored them all. His eyes locked forward, the glow brightening as he felt Lucifer’s aura burn stronger with each beat of his wings.

He flew faster.

Past skyscrapers split in half, their steel bones exposed to the morning light. Past streets littered with broken cars and fallen street lamps. Past an overturned bus with small handprints smeared in blood across its shattered windows. Past bodies. Dozens. Hundreds. Their souls had already gone, leaving silent shells behind to be buried by ash.

He felt his chest tighten.

Not with sorrow.

With hunger.

With the silent certainty that he was getting closer. That soon he would stand before the one whose existence made his own possible. His wings beat harder, sending shockwaves rippling through the drifting smoke. Sparks flickered from his feathers as friction burned the air around him.

The sun rose higher, casting long shadows across the dying city. Its light painted the streets in gold and red, illuminating every silent corpse, every broken wall, every flickering flame.

He didn’t see them.

He saw only the pulse ahead. The silent promise of confrontation. Of completion.

His hair whipped around his face, black strands stained red at the tips. His blood-slicked feet pointed straight behind him as he cut through the air like a living spear. The edges of his wings burned brighter, leaving faint streaks of crimson in his wake.

Then he felt it shift.

Lucifer’s aura deepened. Darkened. The grief within it folded inward, becoming something heavier. Sharper. Like the silent calm before a blade fell on a neck. The clone’s eyes widened slightly, a faint grin curling across his lips.

He wanted to see it.

He wanted to feel it.

The true wrath of the one whose blood he carried in his veins.

His wings beat again, faster now. The city blurred beneath him in streaks of blackened concrete and burning metal. The wind roared louder in his ears, drowning out the distant sirens and crackling fires.

He flew on, forgetting Luna’s small smile.

Forgetting Ken’s trembling hand.

Forgetting Angel’s silent tears.

He flew toward the only thing he knew mattered.

The one thing he was created for.

Lucifer.

And in the rising dawn, his black wings burned crimson as the world prepared to witness the meeting of origin and echo, progenitor and shadow, as the sun bled its light across the silent, broken city below.

A/N

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