Matt's expression grew grave. If those vampires really managed to complete the ritual and summon their so-called Blood God, their power would grow exponentially—and with that strength, they'd slaughter humans without restraint. Those fragments had to be destroyed. The vampires could never be given a chance to obtain them.
"I have a plan," Lucas said. "I'm going to use those fragments to find the place where the vampires will hold their final ritual—and when they're all gathered together, we'll wipe them out in one go."
Matt frowned deeply. "No way. That's too risky. Even if that ritual can't be completed, the number of vampires gathering there alone will be more than a few of us can handle."
But Lucas was confident. He knew that the doctor Blade had once saved would soon develop a serum capable of countering vampires. He also had faith in his own strength—after all, Garuda could obliterate that sacrificial site the moment it appeared. Not to mention, he still had Bear Grylls' Zodiac Meteorite, something as devastating as a miniature nuke.
"Relax," Lucas said with a smirk. "I've got this. Besides, we'll have you, Frank, and Blade. Our main targets are the vampire elders. The rest aren't worth worrying about."
Matt still wasn't convinced. The plan was too dangerous. He didn't know that by the time the ritual began, all members of the vampire council would themselves be part of the sacrifice. The only true threat would be Deacon Frost.
"I'll go to the museum first, take a look around, and plant some surveillance cameras. Once there's movement, I'll call you and Frank," Lucas said.
"I'll go with you," Matt offered, getting to his feet—only for Lucas to stop him.
"Come on, Matt. A blind man visiting a museum? You sure that won't raise eyebrows?"
Matt paused—then let out a wry laugh. He got the point. A blind man wandering through an art exhibit would indeed be… suspicious.
"Fine," he said at last. "Just be careful."
Matt decided to stay behind.
"Frank told me the vampires' top brass are holding a meeting. After what we did to their blood factory, they're out for blood. You and Skye should be careful—these bloodsuckers don't play fair."
It was clear that S.H.I.E.L.D. had passed the same intel to Frank.
Lucas nodded. "I know. Those old fossils are good at arguing, but they'll never agree on anything useful. They're too ancient to be a real threat. The only one worth worrying about is Deacon Frost—the guy Blade's been hunting. He's the real danger. Be careful on your end, too. They might target your friends."
Matt grunted softly. Foggy and Karen were ordinary people; if they ran into vampires, they wouldn't stand a chance—that was exactly what worried him.
"If things get too dangerous," Lucas said, "have them come stay at my place for a while."
He wasn't exaggerating—the apartment's defenses were impregnable. Even a nuclear blast wouldn't chip the paint, and the magical wards cast by Moguri the Wise could block any force of evil.
"I'll let them know," Matt said after a moment's thought. "Thanks, Lucas. I might have to take you up on that."
He didn't know what made Lucas's place special, but he'd seen enough of Lucas's magic to believe it could be extraordinary.
"By the way," Lucas added, "fill Frank in on this. I'm heading to the museum now. It'll be closing soon."
It was already past noon.
Leaving the law office, Lucas took a cab straight to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, located beside Central Park.
It was the busiest time of day. Lucas entered with a museum guidebook in hand, blending in with the crowd.
As expected of one of the world's top five museums—without a map, he would've gotten lost.
He walked through the galleries until he reached his destination: the Book of Truth exhibition.
The vampires called it the Book of Truth, but humans had never deciphered the language on those fragments and had no idea what it really was.
At this hour, the sunlight was at its peak. No vampire would dare appear outside, no matter how much sunscreen they wore. So Lucas wasn't worried about running into any of them.
He wandered the hall like an ordinary tourist, casually examining the displays while subtly studying the room's layout—every camera, every sensor.
After circling the exhibition once, he confirmed that the writing was completely incomprehensible—no wonder it had never been cracked.
When closing time neared, Lucas left and returned to the office.
Skye was glued to the museum's security feed, fascinated by the exhibits.
"You sure the vampires will come for this stuff?" she asked skeptically. "You're betting on them stealing a few scraps of ancient cloth?"
"They'll come," Lucas said firmly. "Just wait and see."
He flopped down on the couch while Skye kept watch over the monitors.
"Then we'll take turns," Skye said. "They only come out at night anyway."
Since Lucas wasn't sure which day the vampires would strike, they had to play the waiting game—taking turns monitoring the live feeds day and night.
That night, Lucas took the first shift, letting Skye rest. The cameras showed nothing unusual—just security guards making their regular rounds.
Three days passed. The museum remained calm. Skye began to doubt the plan altogether, but Lucas stayed resolute.
Then, on the fifth day, Lucas got a call from Matt.
"Blade's got a lead," Matt said. "Tonight, the vampires are hitting the museum—for the fragments you mentioned."
Lucas froze. How the hell did Blade know that? If he'd had that intel earlier, there would've been no need for this stakeout. He'd lost several nights of sleep for nothing!
Skye, who overheard every word, exploded. She lunged at Lucas, kicking, punching, and even biting him in her fury.
"This was your stupid plan! I've been staying up for days because of you! I told you this wouldn't work, and you made me waste my time! I'm gonna bite you to death, you jerk!!"
Like a furious tigress, Skye unleashed her wrath while Lucas, completely guilty, let her vent without resistance. He knew better than to fight back—if he said one wrong word, she might just blast him into pieces with her vibration powers.
After ten solid minutes of abuse, Skye finally calmed down. Lucas sat huddled in the corner of the couch, teary-eyed and utterly defeated.
Later that night, at Blade's safehouse, everyone gathered. The moment they met, Lucas couldn't help asking how Blade had gotten his information.
"I planted a tracker on Quinn," Blade said flatly. "The idiot never noticed."
Even Blade sounded surprised. He'd stuck the tracker on Quinn back at the hospital when the vampire escaped. The signal had dropped out once, and Blade assumed it had been discovered—so he hadn't thought much of it since. Turns out, Quinn really was that stupid.
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