You may not be the heroes the people need to save the kingdom, but there’s no one else to do it—and you have no intention of backing down.
You are a predator: a vampire stalking human prey in the dead of night, drinking their blood. Blood is life. It is drinking, eating, breathing, and fucking—all contained in a single crimson drop. Your thirst for blood is blinding, and to drink it… is ecstatic. Feeding on a victim is not just sipping a juice box—it is savoring a sumptuous meal in a fine restaurant.
You will do anything to feed. This urge is insatiable. Even when you take your fill, the devil whispers in your ear, tempting you to drink more. Starving awakens the beast. The beast is the relentless pulse in your lifeless heart; it demands excess, cruelty, and destruction. When the beast takes over, you lose your free will and regress into a mindless monster. Your humanity—your connection to what it means to be human—is the only thing that keeps the beast at bay, a flickering flame in a wind-beaten darkness.
Between famine and feast, restraint and reckless abandon, the unlife of a predator offers far more than a mere existence as an eternal blood addict. Immortality is the reward awaiting the predator who can balance on this razor’s edge.
Predators represent the pinnacle: the union of human cunning and the beast’s raw, instinctive ferocity. While humans and lesser creatures are sheep before the wolf, the wolf itself evolves within a pack. And within that pack, the most cunning and ruthless becomes alpha. All predators envy this power and prestige. They tear into one another each night, fighting for scraps, each hoping that one night they will lead the pack. From the greatest predator to the humblest, all are entwined in an endless conflict of intrigue and violence.
This is what it means to be a predator. This is Immortal.
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