"What—wait!"
No. 11 shouted urgently, but the call was cut off before she could ask anything.
In the final instant before the line went dead, she seemed to hear the crack of thunder and lightning.
That was unmistakably the power of the vampire clan.
Suddenly, her earpiece vibrated again.
An ominous feeling rose in her chest. Swallowing hard, she reached up and touched the earpiece, doing her best to keep her voice steady.
[This is No. 11.]
Unlike her controlled tone, the voice on the other end was loud and frantic, thick with urgency.
[Officer No. 11… pureblood… signal interference… run… ah!!!]
The transmission ended in a piercing scream.
No. 11's pupils shrank violently. The emotions she had been suppressing finally broke free, and an unknown fear spread through her chest like a shadow.
[Soldier? Hello! Soldier, do you copy?!]
The signal was unstable, but the military channel itself hadn't disconnected.
Clinging to the last shred of hope, No. 11 prayed that the soldier on the other end had merely been wounded by stray fire and was temporarily unable to speak.
If she waited a little longer, maybe he could push through the pain and respond again.
At the very least, she needed to know the name of the fallen.
[This human soldier said your name is No. 11? What a strange name. Is it a clone designation? I recall humans once ran experiments like that.]
The voice in her earpiece changed abruptly.
It was no longer the soldier's—it was deeper, steadier, and carried an unmistakable authority.
[Bern?]
The moment she heard it, all lingering hope vanished.
As the former chief scientist of the TOPS, and empowered by his identity as a vampire, Bern's voice was far too familiar within No. 11's circles. Even a single sentence was enough for her to recognize him instantly.
[Hmm? You know me? That makes things easier. Miss Clone, would you be interested in visiting my laboratory? I'm quite curious about how you were made.]
Bern spoke calmly, his words laced with an unquestionable certainty.
No. 11's expression hardened as she replied coldly.
[Try standing in sunlight first.]
There was a reason No. 11, Phaga, and Yanagi had chosen this timing for their operation.
They departed the Outer Ring at 1:00 PM, racing at full speed to reach New Eridu between 2:00 and 3:00 PM—the brightest, most sun-drenched hours of the day.
We're back.
Come out and enjoy the sunlight, you pureblood vampires.
Bern's answer was tranquil.
"Why not?"
The next moment, the earpiece tumbled to the ground. A foot came down hard.
Crunch—buzz!
A sharp buzzing noise filled the air. No. 11 winced, squeezing her right eye shut as pain flared, and hurriedly tore off the earpiece.
She lifted her gaze toward the distant battlefield.
Although the number of mixed-blood vampires kept increasing—and although they were fully equipped, even daring to trade rocket fire with human forces in narrow alleys—their combat discipline still couldn't compare to No. 11, a clone soldier engineered specifically for war.
Once the troops secured their footing, the momentum steadily shifted in the human army's favor. They even managed to seize supplies along the way.
For a moment, No. 11 had even thought that by fighting and looting simultaneously, they might gather enough resources to rendezvous with the other two teams.
But now—
That was no longer possible.
At the far end of her vision, beyond rows of densely packed buildings, No. 11 suddenly spotted a massive, multicolored "cloud" drifting across the sky.
"Wait… that's not a cloud…"
Her voice trembled.
As the colorful mass drew closer, its true form became clear.
Beneath the enormous cloud, at least a thousand Sacrifices were gathered below, supporting it.
Each one clutched a glowing orb of a different color, channeling its power upward into the cloud. Countless streams of energy converged, propping the cloud aloft as a single colossal structure.
What were they doing?
What was the vampire clan planning?
No. 11 clenched her teeth, her thoughts racing as beads of sweat slid down her temples.
She wasn't the only one.
Every soldier on the battlefield had lifted their head, all of them fixated on the sky. None of them noticed that the mixed-blood vampires had already withdrawn from the battlefield without a sound.
Even in their moment of distraction, no counterattack came.
"Look! Someone's flying under that cloud!"
A shout rang out from within the ranks, a soldier pointing skyward in disbelief.
No. 11's thoughts snapped into focus. As if grasping onto something vital, she pulled the binoculars from her waist and trained them on the distant sky.
Far beneath the cloud, Bern was looking down at a pocket watch, as though calculating something.
Behind him, figures shifted. Numerous vampires with wings folded behind their backs hid among the Sacrifices, waiting silently for his command.
Soon, Bern seemed to sense something. He closed the watch and looked toward No. 11's position, his brow knitting slightly.
"Noticed something?"
The next instant, his frown smoothed out, his voice calm once more.
"But it's too late."
"All Sacrifices, advance at full speed!"
[Kree—!]
The Sacrifices responded in unison, surging forward. The massive cloud above them lurched ahead as well, charging through the sky like a rampaging rhinoceros across a boundless plain, forcing its way forward at an absurd speed.
In moments, it was directly overhead.
"Artillery units, prepare! Heavy fire—punch through the cloud layer!"
No. 11 clenched her teeth and issued the order.
Those clouds could block sunlight, allowing pureblood vampires to move freely in broad daylight.
They had to be destroyed.
Cannons atop armored vehicles tilted upward in unison. Missile after missile locked on, awaiting her command.
No. 11 closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again. She took a deep breath to steady herself, exhaled sharply, and roared:
"Fire!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Dozens of missiles streaked skyward at once, carrying overwhelming destructive force, as though anything they touched would be annihilated beyond recovery.
Yet in the face of the barrage, Bern calmly descended, extending his hand toward the incoming missiles.
Boom!
An explosion blossomed into thick smoke.
The next second, a frost-covered hand emerged from the haze, sweeping outward and dispersing it.
Bern's figure gradually came into view. Half his body had been blown away, yet his expression remained serene, as if he felt no pain at all.
Then, one after another, dozens of vampires burst forth behind him, throwing themselves forward and using their own bodies to intercept the missiles.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Explosions rang out in succession, but not a single missile reached the cloud layer.
Every one of them was stopped by the vampires themselves, at the cost of nothing more than half their bodies.
Bern's expression tightened slightly as he spoke, his voice steady and composed.
"My brothers…"
"…Dinner is served."