My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

Victor slowly pulled in a breath as the bracelets and anklets finally activated. There was no light, no dramatic sound, no elegant warning.

An immediate, clean increase—like his own body had been pushed against the ground by something invisible. His muscles reacted on instinct, contracting to support what had once been effortless. He stayed still for a second, adjusting his breathing, feeling the new balance.

"...It’s different," he commented, moving his fingers first, then his arm, and finally forcing his body to rise a bit more. It wasn’t pretty, but it wasn’t a disaster either. "But I can move. It’s not impossible."

Serafall watched without hurry, arms crossed, like someone who already knew exactly what his reaction would be.

"Of course you can," she replied simply. "That’s still light."

Victor turned his head toward her, resting his weight on his elbow as he tested his body with small movements. Every adjustment demanded more strength than it should, but it wasn’t out of control.

"Light?" he repeated, letting out a small nasal chuckle. "This is already annoying."

Serafall shrugged.

"Normal vampires can handle up to about five tons on their bodies without collapsing," she said, as if stating something too basic to argue about. "You’re only just starting to feel real weight now."

Victor stayed silent for a moment, processing that as he finally managed to sit up—still a bit unstable, but steady enough not to fall again.

"Five tons..." he murmured, more to himself than to her. Then he looked up again. "And you?"

Serafall made a thoughtful face.

She actually paused to think.

"Hmm..." She brought a hand to her chin, staring off for a moment like she was trying to recall something specific.

"Ah... around one hundred and sixty thousand, maybe?" she answered, far too casually for something on that level. "More or less."

Victor just stared, without any reaction, blinking.

"...Are you making that number up?" he asked after a few seconds, bluntly.

"No," she replied, just as directly. "Well, not exactly. I’ve never really measured it properly. But it should be around there."

She stretched her arm out in front of him and flexed, tightening her bicep with a slightly misplaced sense of pride.

"I’ve been training for a long time," she continued, as if justifying something completely normal. "I’m over ten thousand years old. I’ve trained, what... more than half of that? Maybe more. So... it makes sense."

Victor looked at her arm.

"...You don’t look like someone who can handle one hundred and sixty thousand tons," he said flatly.

"And do you look like someone who can handle twice the gravity?" she shot back immediately.

He opened his mouth to respond.

Stopped.

Thought for a second.

"...Fair point," he admitted, letting out a small sigh.

He placed his hands on the ground and tried to stand up fully. This time, he managed, though it took a bit longer—his body still adjusting to the new weight. He stood there, slightly stiff, as if every joint was recalibrating.

"Okay... this is going to be annoying," he said, looking down and carefully moving his feet. "But it’s not impossible."

"It wasn’t meant to be impossible," she replied. "It was meant to be constant."

Victor let out a quiet "hm," still testing his balance.

"And it’s going to double in five days..." he muttered.

"It is," she confirmed.

Silence for a moment.

He took a deep breath.

"Alright," he said at last, simply. "Then let’s see how far this goes."

Serafall smiled faintly.

It wasn’t exaggerated.

Just... satisfied.

"That’s exactly the idea."

—

Three days later...

—

Victor moved up and down at a steady rhythm, very different from the uncontrolled chaos of the first day. His movements were no longer desperate, but... refined.

Each push-up had a clear beginning, middle, and end, even with double gravity pressing his entire body downward.

On his back, Carmilla sat as if it were the most natural place in the world.

Legs crossed, dominant posture, one hand lightly resting on her knee. The contrast was almost comical—someone completely relaxed on top of someone who was clearly still exerting effort, even if far more stable than before.

"I have to admit," she commented, looking down as she followed his movement with genuine interest, "I expected more... collapse."

Victor went down again, his face nearing the ground before pushing himself back up with firm control, his breathing now slightly heavier.

"Disappointed?" he replied without stopping, his voice steady enough to hold a conversation—which in itself was already an improvement.

"A little," Carmilla said bluntly. "But also... impressed."

Scarlet leaned against one of the nearby columns, arms crossed, watching everything in silence since the session began.

Her gaze was more analytical than Carmilla’s, tracking not just the movement but the small details—posture, response time, stability.

"He adjusted way too fast," she commented at last. "One day to adapt to double gravity isn’t... normal."

Victor let out a small nasal laugh mid-rep.

"You talk like I had a choice," he muttered. "Either I adapted... or I became decoration on the floor."

Carmilla tilted her head slightly.

"That doesn’t change the fact," she replied. "Most would break before reaching this point. The body doesn’t keep up that quickly."

Victor finished another repetition and held for a second at the top, arms firm, before lowering again.

"My body hasn’t really had the option to complain lately," he said in an almost casual tone. "It just... keeps up."

Scarlet slowly uncrossed her arms, still watching.

"It’s not just the body," she added. "There’s neural adaptation there. Coordination under pressure, force adjustment... that usually takes longer."

Victor didn’t respond immediately. He kept moving, steady, breathing in a controlled rhythm.

"Or I’m just good at this," he said after a few seconds, without much ceremony.

Carmilla let out a small laugh.

"At least confidence isn’t lacking."

"It’s not confidence," he shot back, pushing himself up again, muscles contracting with precision. "It’s observation."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow slightly but didn’t comment.

A brief silence followed, filled only by the repetitive sound of his hands hitting the ground and pushing his weight back up.

Carmilla rested her chin on her hand, thoughtful.

"Now that you’ve stabilized," she said, watching his shoulders, "we can start working on real strength."

Victor exhaled slowly as he pushed up again.

"This doesn’t count yet?" he asked with a faint hint of irony.

"This counts as adaptation," she replied. "Now comes growth."

Scarlet gave a slight nod.

"Your muscles will start responding better from here," she explained. "The constant load forces more efficient micro-tears. If you keep this pace... your gains will be above standard."

Victor stayed silent for a moment, absorbing that while maintaining his rhythm.

"So basically... now it starts getting interesting?" he summarized.

"Exactly," Carmilla said.

He let out a quiet "hm" in response.

Down.

Up.

This time, with a bit more firmness.

"Alright," he murmured. "Then let’s really see how far this goes."