My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

Victor descended once more, his face just inches from the stone floor already marked by thousands of previous repetitions, and then pushed his body upwards with an effort that seemed to be ripped from somewhere he didn’t even know existed, his arms trembling almost violently as the count trailed off between clenched teeth.

"...ten thousand one hundred and twenty-two..." he murmured, more of a surviving sound than actual speech, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he tried, in vain, to regain some control of his breathing. Even so, his gaze drifted for a moment towards the open suitcases on the floor, that strange sensation still creeping through the air like an invisible presence that refused to be ignored.

"...I’m still trying to understand," he continued, forcing another repetition as his body protested in every inch, "what exactly is inside these things to make the air look like ’I’m going to die and I don’t even know why’..." His voice came out almost casually, but there was a real undercurrent of curiosity there, mixed with that uncomfortable instinct that screamed that this was definitely not something common.

Serafall observed him for a second, the smile still present, though now more restrained, as if she were assessing not only his physical resistance, but also how he reacted to what he didn’t yet fully understand.

"I sent those two to steal this from a special safe," she replied, slightly crossing her legs while still sitting on his back with an irritating nonchalance, as if she were completely oblivious to the fact that he was basically crumbling under her weight and his own effort.

"Despite being the General, I can’t just take certain things when I want. There are... rules." Her tone carried a slight reluctance in the last word, as if the very concept were too inconvenient for someone like her.

Victor was silent for a second, descending and rising again with difficulty, before letting out a weak, hoarse laugh, completely devoid of energy, but still laden with a certain sarcasm.

"So let me see if I understand this correctly..." he began, pausing at the peak of the movement for a moment before almost giving in completely, "you can’t take it... so you have it stolen?" He let out a louder laugh this time, even if it cost him some of the breath he was already lacking.

"That’s... surprisingly contradictory coming from someone who constantly talks about control and authority." His laughter dragged on for a few more seconds before turning into a heavy sigh, his body descending once more with extreme difficulty.

Serafall blushed.

It was quick.

But undeniable.

"Shut up," she replied immediately, her tone heavy with an irritation that wasn’t exactly anger, but something closer to being caught in something she preferred not to explain. She looked away for a moment, as if it were irrelevant, before adding more firmly: "It’s important for your training. You don’t need to understand everything." The last sentence came almost as an order, but still carried a slight trace of that embarrassment she clearly didn’t want to admit.

Victor let out a long sigh, lowering himself once more, his arms almost completely failing before rising again with an effort that seemed absurd even to him.

"You’re so annoying..." he murmured, without any real provocation in his words, but still making his thought clear. "Very much so..." He barely finished the sentence before letting out another drawn-out sound, something between a groan and a tired laugh, as if he had already accepted that complaining wouldn’t change anything at all.

It was at that moment that new footsteps echoed across the courtyard.

Victor turned his gaze again, more slowly this time, as if even moving his neck was an additional effort he no longer had the energy to sustain. Carmilla and Scarlet were back, each carrying another briefcase, walking with a naturalness that contrasted completely with his deplorable state.

"There," said Carmilla, throwing the briefcase with the same lack of ceremony as before, "now everything’s here."

Scarlet dropped hers immediately afterward, the movement interrupted in mid-air by Serafall’s blood, who again controlled the object with absurd precision before placing it beside the others.

Victor blinked a few times, now staring at the complete set on the ground, trying to process it all while still moving, even if each repetition was slower than the last.

"...Two more?" he asked, his voice low but heavy with a certain indignant weariness.

Scarlet crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly as she observed the situation with a look that mixed slight irritation and a certain silent amusement.

"It’s your mother’s fault," she replied without hesitation, her tone as direct as ever.

Carmilla shrugged beside her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"She didn’t specify a quantity. She just said ’bring everything that’s useful’." There was a small pause before she finished, with a slight narrowing of her eyes towards Serafall: "And apparently, the concept of ’everything’ varies quite a bit depending on who asks."

Serafall completely ignored the comment, although the slight movement of her eyebrow betrayed that she heard perfectly.

Victor let out a small laugh through his nose, even exhausted, going down once more and almost unable to climb this time, his whole body trembling as if he were on the verge of simply giving up.

"Of course... of course it varies..." he murmured, still breathless. "I’m starting to think my ’training’ is just an excuse for you to unleash some kind of pent-up sadism."

"Come on, up to 15,000. Keep going," Serafall replied immediately, ignoring the provocation as if it were irrelevant, although a slight smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

The sound of his breathing no longer had rhythm, cadence, or any trace of conscious control; it was just air entering and leaving a body that refused to stop, even when everything inside him had long since exceeded its limit. Each repetition after that mark ceased to be counted clearly, the numbers dragging through his mind like distant echoes, sometimes skipping, sometimes repeating, as if even his own brain had given up trying to keep up with the absurdity that his body insisted on sustaining.

The world around him gradually lost definition.

The stone floor.

The weight on his back.

The sound of voices.

Everything was being swallowed by a hot, oppressive fog, where only movement remained. Down. Up. Down. Up. Without thinking. Without questioning. Without space for anything beyond the raw need to continue.

There were moments when his arms simply failed.

They gave way.

They buckled without warning.

But he didn’t fall.

Not completely.

Something within him corrected at the last instant, adjusted, pushed again, as if his body had found a point beyond conscious will, a place where giving up was no longer a viable option.

Time passed.

A lot of it.

But, at the same time, nothing passed.

Until—

"Fifteen thousand."

Serafall’s voice cut through the space with absolute clarity, too clean for the confused state he was in.

Victor didn’t answer.

He simply finished the movement.

He climbed one last time.

His arms locked at the top for a second too long, trembling completely uncontrollably—

And then they gave way.

This time, for real.

His entire body plummeted to the ground with a dry impact, without any attempt to cushion the fall, as if every muscle had simply shut down at once. The sound echoed low through the courtyard, followed by a heavy silence that seemed... deserved.

Serafall was no longer on top of him.

She had stood up at some point he didn’t even notice, the weight disappearing without warning, although the absence was only noticed now, when it no longer made a difference.

Victor lay there.

Sprawled on the ground.

Momentary for a few seconds.

His breathing slowly returning, still irregular, still heavy, his chest rising and falling as if each breath were a small personal victory.

"...I died," he murmured, his voice muffled against the stone, without even trying to get up. "I’m almost certain that this was clinical death at some point along the way..."

No one answered immediately.

Silence hung for a moment, broken only by the sound of his breathing slowly stabilizing.

After a few seconds, he turned his face to the side, his eyes half-open, still lacking the energy for any significant movement, but recovering enough to start thinking again.

And, inevitably—

Returning to curiosity.

"So..." he began, letting out a long sigh before continuing, "...now that I’ve officially survived this absurdity..." there was a short pause, more to catch his breath than for dramatic effect, "...are you finally going to tell me what’s inside those briefcases?"

"Because, honestly..." he continued, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, "...if this is just another stage of training... I’d at least like to know exactly what kind of problem I accepted without reading the terms."