Now:

Beta sat by Aloy as her sister lay on the bed in her room, her eyelids fluttering as she writhed in pain – she had fallen off a charger at the Base's entrance, her clothes streaked with crusting blood, clutching her stomach and mumbling incoherently as she did so. What Beta found most puzzling, however, were the two small, neat wounds on Aloy's neck, close to her carotid artery. She had never known machines to be so delicate, so she wondered what kind of animal could have caused them. Raccoons and boars were nowhere near aggressive enough to voluntarily attack humans – and even if they were, neither of their bite patterns matched the size or spacing of the wounds. A mystery for another time, she decided. Perhaps when Aloy was awake she would ask about what had happened to her, but she suspected that her sister, private as she was, would not be in any kind of mood to discuss it.

When she was sure her sister had settled, Beta exhaled with relief and set about injecting Aloy with a mild sedative to try to ease her sister's suffering. Aloy tried to speak again but Beta shushed her gently. "Don't try to talk," she said, gripping Aloy's pallid, cold hand for a moment in an attempt to be reassuring. "Try to get some rest. The medicine will help, I promise."

Stubbornly, Aloy again tried to mumble something before the sedative took hold and rendered her unconscious. When Beta was sure her sister was fully asleep, she leaned down and gently wiped Aloy's forehead clean of sweat and crusting blood before tiptoeing out of her room to give her a little peace and quiet.

She made her way across the communal living area towards her own room, which was sparsely decorated with various pieces of tribal art which Aloy had collected for her – hanging above her bed was a wooden Tenakth carving painted with jagged red and green patterns, and on the opposite wall hung an oil painting of Meridian gifted to Aloy by none other than Sun-King Avad himself. Aloy had wanted nothing to do with it, for reasons she didn't care to talk about no matter how many times Beta asked her about them, but had nevertheless kept it and passed it on to her sister as a preview of what Meridian would be like when she finally took her there.

When that would be, Beta didn't know, and she didn't feel comfortable pressing the matter given how the data from her sister's Focus showed how things between her and Avad had ended. She shrugged, putting that thought out of her head briskly, and fully turned her attention to her own Focus's database. Compartmentalisation was a skill she had learned from an early age, given how she had had to grow up in such a cold, detached environment – save for Tilda's brief, venomous stay in her life, of course.

Tapping her Focus again, she brought up her saved searches of the cultural section of the APOLLO database and began scrolling through the seemingly-endless list of classic literature it held. It took her a few minutes to find what she wanted, but when the text for Neuromancer flashed up on her visual display, she settled into her seat and began happily re-reading the words she had read at least five or six times before. She loved old books, and the technological anachronisms present in this particular text amused her a great deal. She sometimes imagined what it must have been like in an age where computers were not household items, and the thought made her shudder. The idea that information was once more than a few clicks away was disturbing to her, to say the least.

Half an hour of silence and several thousand words later, Beta walked into Aloy's room to check on her sister while she slept. She sat down next to Aloy on the bed, laying a hand on her sister's arm. The instant she touched Aloy's skin, her sister awakened with a bestial snarl, almost making Beta's heart jump out of her chest. Aloy glared at Beta then, her eyes somehow having turned a bizarre amber colour, and bared two sharp, pointed teeth before lunging right at her sister like a starving predator.

Beta screamed.

Then:

Morlund and his newly-formed crew of Oseram delvers approached the large metal door they had found in the basement of one of the casinos of what had once been Las Vegas, now known as Hidden Ember. The door was smeared with tarnished glyphs that they could not decipher, with old handprints from previous attempts to open it dappling its dusty, tarnished surface. This time they would succeed, though. This time they were armed with two of Petra Forgewoman's best cannons – cannons which had held back an army of corrupted machines at the gates of Meridian and left piles of scrap strewn all around the city's walls. Morlund reasoned that if they could do that to the living metal of the most powerful machines, they would be just as effective – maybe even more so – against the dead metal of this door.

Only one way to find out.

"On my signal, guys," he began, before taking a deep breath, raising his hand and counting silently to three before pointing his finger directly at the door. "Ready, aim, fire!"

The cannons' roar was deafening, and for a moment Morlund thought the inside of his ears had been shredded by it. The noise of the forge had done that to his father after years of constant hammering, so he was relieved when the ringing inside his head cleared and he could hear the astonishment of his fellow delvers as they beheld the formerly impenetrable door collapsed in on itself, jagged edges left where there had previously been smooth slabs of metal. Wrapping a rag around a length of wood and dousing it briefly with Blaze, Morlund struck two flints together to create a spark which would set it alight. Holding it aloft, he led his motley crew inside the ruin, wondering what kind of wonders they were going to encounter ahead of them.

In the pitch-back dark beyond the reach of his torch's light, Morlund could see something glowing. Two points of burning yellow light hovered in mid-air, seemingly moving towards the delvers at a stilted, ragged pace.

"Mortals?" a rasping voice exclaimed, filled with so much heavy disbelief that Morlund almost felt like it had hit him in the face. "Now this is interesting."

The crimson lights approached at a more invigorated pace, until they were at the edge of the torch's light. Then a human form, a man, emerged from the darkness. He was tall, pale and gaunt, dressed in frayed, faded clothing that had clearly once been expensive and immaculate. His hair was ash-grey and patchy, almost as if he had been badly burned. The nails on his fingers were longer and more pronounced than those of even a Carja noble, looking almost like the talons of a glinthawk. He moved slowly towards Morlund, his head inclined slightly to one side, a puzzled expression on his face. "How did you find me?" he exclaimed in words which grated on Morlund's ears like shredded steel being scraped across slate.

"We're just explorers," Morlund said, taking a step back as the man squinted at him with a sour expression on his lined face. "Sir."

"Explorers, eh?" the man said, cracking a withered smile, which somehow made Morlund more uncomfortable than the squinting. "Your clothes don't look at all familiar, my boy. Fashions have clearly changed since the last time I was outside these walls." He chuckled. "Can you tell me how long has it been? I lost track a long time ago. The last date I can really remember is October 22nd, 2164. That was the time the last of my decent food finally ran out of juice." He chuckled again, clearly at some private joke that Morlund did not understand. "Out of juice. That's a good one. Do you know how long I've gone without anything decent to eat?"

"We have food if you need it, sir," Morlund replied uneasily, reaching into his knapsack and holding out the dough-coated tube of boar meat he had brought with him. This delve was not going the way he had anticipated. It was not going the way he had anticipated it at all.

"Hmm," the man replied, reaching out with a gnarled hand to take the morsel from Morlund's quivering fingers before glancing at it and tossing it aside in disgust. "Thank you, but this isn't the kind of food I usually prefer." He closed the gap between himself and Morlund with only a few steps, standing a full head taller than the Oseram. "No, my dish of choice is somewhat more… lively." He put one forefinger under Morlund's chin and pushed upwards so that the shorter man was forced to look up into his glowing eyes. He opened his mouth just wide enough to reveal two elongated, needle-sharp teeth in his upper jaw. "It seems the time has finally come for me to go hunting for it again."

He snarled then, and before Morlund could process what was going on, the man had sunk those needle-sharp teeth deep into his neck with a snarl like that of a sawtooth, turning the world scarlet, then bottomlessly dark and cold.

The monster wearing the form of a man drained Morlund dry, tossing the husk aside as the rest of the delving party panicked and ran, forgetting the weapons in their hands in their terror. It did them no good, the beast taking after them with preternatural speed, slashing the throat of the first delver it caught and revelling in the shower of blood that erupted from the wound. Wizened, cracking skin tightened and became more flushed with every drop of vital fluid which splashed onto it. Patchy grey hair thickened and turned a deep midnight black as the next delver was caught and torn to shreds, his bones crunching as they were snapped neatly in half. When the last delver lay dead at his feet, the monster flexed his fingers after licking the last traces of blood from his talons.

"Hmm," he said again, a little more thoughtfully. "Interesting flavour."

Squinting in the direction of the searing sunlight, he sighed in exasperation. As much as leaving his prison was essential, he would nevertheless have to stay where he was until night fell. He supposed a few hours were inconsequential next to the hundreds of years he had been entombed in the dark with nothing but rats and echoes for company, so he could afford to wait just a little while longer. In the meantime, he would simply have to savour what new sensations of the outside world he could – getting used to the scent and sound of any kind of fresh prey was a simple pleasure which he had missed a great deal.

Soon the hunt would begin anew. He could scarcely wait.

Now:

Beta scrambled backwards as Aloy lunged at her, falling hard onto her back as her calves collided with a table, her head bouncing off its hard surface. With the breath driven from her lungs and her brain rattling around inside her skull, she was momentarily unable to move, her limbs limp and unresponsive. She readied herself for the end, only to see Aloy staggering backwards, clutching at her head with both hands as she collapsed to her knees, groaning softly from the back of her throat.

Cautiously, Beta rose to her feet and very slowly tiptoed closer to her sister. She reached out with one thin hand and touched Aloy's shoulder, only for Aloy to abruptly growl at her. "Get away," Aloy hissed, her predator's gaze almost burning a hole through Beta as she jumped backwards in shock. Without another word she reached into her knapsack and pulled out a small glass vial sealed with a cork and filled with a crimson liquid, upending the vial into her mouth all in one go before angrily throwing it away into a corner, where it hit the wall and shattered into splinters. "Damn him," she muttered, wiping her mouth with the knuckles of her right hand, a trickle of crimson fluid smeared across her skin. She stood, flexing her hands and inhaling with slow, juddering breaths for a moment before she turned and faced her sister, her amber eyes full of anger and frustration.

"Aloy?" Beta said hesitantly, making sure to stay behind the communal area's bar just in case. "Do you know where you are?"

"I know where I am," Aloy replied flatly, "but I'm not sure I know what I am."

Then:

Aloy knelt down to trace her fingertips across the fresh, damp footprints. Whatever she was tracking, it was close.

Very close.

She had heard rumours over her Focus from Zo of mysterious deaths around Plainsong, rumours of farmers left lying in the woodlands surrounding the settlement, rumours of strange cries in the night that sounded like no other machine or animal the Utaru had ever heard, and rumours of a living shadow in the evening mist which could slit even a seasoned warrior's throat with just one glance. Aloy had never really put much stock in rumours, but Zo had been insistent that she investigate them, so she had reluctantly agreed. Now she was here in the forest, the evening chorus of birdsong eerily absent. The silence made her very uneasy, beads of sweat running down her spine even in the chill of dusk.

A twig snapped behind her, a spike of fright driving itself through her brain. She turned on her heel as quickly as she could, her bow raised and ready to launch an arrow right into the heart of whatever it was that was approaching her, but there was nothing to be seen. The unease she had been trying to suppress turned into a horrible knot in her guts, making her usually steady hands quiver as they gripped her bow even more tightly than before.

"Well, well, well…what do we have here?" The voice slithered out of the dark, again from behind Aloy. She whirled again, and this time she saw the source of the words. It was a man, tall and imposing – and strangely handsome, Aloy thought, completely out of the blue. Usually she didn't tend to notice things like that, but with this man, she couldn't help it. His piercing gaze was magnetic, preventing her from doing anything but keeping her eyes fixed on him. "Who might you be, I wonder?" he said, advancing on her with predatory grace until he towered over her, still looking her directly in the eyes. He looked impatient for a second before he rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, child," he said, sounding almost embarrassed. "Sometimes I forget how far I've charmed someone – you can speak now. What is your name, girl?"

Aloy finally found herself able to move her lips. "Aloy. My name's Aloy," she croaked, her mouth feeling so dry she thought her tongue might crumble to dust. The man looked a little taken aback for a moment before he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Aloy," he said. "Hmm. You must be the 'Saviour of Meridian' all those farmers talked about before I drained them. I was expecting someone a little taller, if I'm honest." He raised his eyebrows for a second or so. "Meridian is a city, I take it?"

"Yes," Aloy said hoarsely. "You'll never find it –"

"I don't intend to," the man snapped, cutting her off. "Big cities are a bad idea. Sooner or later somebody finds you and things get… complicated. Out here in the wilds, on the other hand, I have no such problems – myths and legends are all so easily manipulated."

"I found you," Aloy rasped. "Others will too."

"I doubt that," the man said, rolling his eyes wearily. "You only found me because I found you first, girl. I've had hundreds of years to learn how to hunt."

"Hundreds of years?" Aloy was confused. The man didn't look older than around thirty. "But –"

"My kind are extremely long-lived," the man said, almost as if he was bored of having the same question asked time after time. "I saw the Faro Plague with my own eyes. I was there when humanity died its first death."

"How are you –"

"How am I still alive?" the man said, interrupting her again. "Why didn't the Faro robots eat me along with the rest of the human race? My dear, how could they eat what they couldn't even touch?" Aloy's eyes widened as she saw him evaporate into a purple-tinged mist, clothes and all, before coalescing back into a human shape. "You see? Faro robots tried to catch me so many times but I always slipped through their fingers… or claws, or tentacles, whichever they had." He circled around her and started casually examining one of her braids. As he did so, Aloy felt her breath catching in her throat. She fought against the force which was freezing her in place, and the man sighed. "Please don't waste your time struggling," he said, sounding exasperated. "You'll need your energy for what's about to happen."

"'What's about to happen'?" Aloy said incredulously. "How are you doing this?"

"You'll find out soon enough," the man told her, brushing her hair away from her neck before sinking his teeth right into her flesh. Aloy felt her head swimming almost immediately, her eyelids becoming too heavy to keep open. She felt her body finally loosening up, her knees folding underneath her as she fell to the forest floor.

She awoke somewhere unfamiliar, and was surprised to find herself not bound or gagged. She took in her surroundings automatically, and found she was in a fragile metal passageway, with rust coating the walls and – more importantly – fading daylight within sprinting distance. There was also a single beam of sunlight coming through a hole in the ceiling, burning her eyes like clawstrider acid. She stood, ready to escape as fast as she could, but then found herself unable to move again, abruptly face-to-face with the pale man as his mist form became solid right in front of her. "I see you're awake," he said, folding his arms. "I was expecting you to be unconscious a little longer, but then again the birthing process is different for everyone."

"'Birthing process'?" Aloy said with difficulty, her tongue feeling swollen. "What did you –"

"A figure of speech," the man replied, with a faint shrug. "Don't worry, it's not as dramatic as it sounds, although I do like to make it a private affair between sire and sired. It's more personal that way." He paused. "The bite is just the first step of the transformation – in a moment or two you'll start feeling… unwell. The only way the pain will stop is to drink my blood."

Aloy's eyes widened, unwilling to believe what she had just heard. There was no way he was being serious, surely?

She was still trying to process what he had said before a white-hot pain flared in her guts, spreading everywhere in an instant until her entire body was in agony. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, unwilling to give this man any sense of satisfaction. She felt blood trickling down her chin as her teeth pierced her skin, the sterile taste of metal filling her mouth as she ran her tongue over the wound reflexively.

Then something strange happened. The flavour of the blood changed, becoming sweet and irresistible, so much so that even through the agonising pain she found herself wanting to taste more of it. She opened her eyes to find the man piercing his own wrist with his teeth and holding it out to her, pressing it to her mouth with gentle grace.

She drank. She drank until the pain faded, and then cold, horrible clarity returned.

What had she done? What had he made her do?

Revulsion slithered down her spine and she tried to bolt towards the light at the end of the tunnel before the man appeared in front of her, a pleased smile on his face.

"I wouldn't run into the light so eagerly, my dear," he said, wagging a finger at her as if he was scolding her for stealing a loaf of bread. "It wouldn't end well now that you're like me – or at least one step closer to it, anyway." He backed away until he was standing within arm's length of the single beam of light coming from the ceiling, and then extended his hand directly into the beam. Instantly it started to sizzle, trails of smoke rising off it. Aloy could smell the stench of burning meat until he withdrew his hand from the beam, and her eyes widened in shock as the burns and blisters healed within moments. "This is the reality of your situation now, I'm afraid – there's no turning back now." He snapped his fingers abruptly. "Where are my manners? I just realised I haven't even told you my name yet. My mother would be ashamed of me – or at least I think she would; I haven't even seen her for hundreds of years." Scratching his chin for a moment as if he was deep in thought, he continued "I must admit I've had many names over the years, but the one I've used the most is this: Dracula." He paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, and then continued "It's not my real name, of course, but I doubt the genuine article is still around to lay claim to it. He never was the most sensible sort…"

Now:

Beta tapped her Focus to cut off its scanning function and blinked in surprise. "That's… unusual. I can't find a heartbeat," she said.

"Are you sure?" Aloy asked, incredulous. "Check again."

"I have," Beta replied. "I checked and double-checked the readings, but as far as the Focus is concerned, you're… well, you're not alive. I scanned everything which would indicate you're a living being, but nothing's registered so far. Putting it simply, you should be lying cold on a slab somewhere, not talking to me."

"But I am talking to you," Aloy snapped. "The Focus must be malfunctioning." She tried to get up off the bed, but Beta put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"I don't want you to leave," Beta told her. "I want to run some more tests – I need to see if I can find out what's wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong with me!" Aloy's voice became a grinding snarl and her fangs flickered out for a moment before she visibly reined herself in, the sharp teeth retracting and disappearing behind her lips again. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

Beta laid her hand onto her sister's shoulder again, gently. "No, you're not. We need to find out why."

Aloy hung her head for a moment, before running her hands through her braids and exhaling loudly. "I know," she said with a resigned nod. "I know."

"Okay," Beta said, tapping her chin with a fingertip. "We should start by running a search through APOLLO – there may be pre-war references to what you're experiencing somewhere in all that data. If we each do a wide-spectrum search for information, we might be able to figure out a starting point."

"I guess it's worth a shot," Aloy agreed, activating her Focus and opening a portal to APOLLO's information hub. Raising a hand to the holographic display which swiftly materialised in front of her, she entered a few brief sentences describing what she had experienced into its search engine. The programme was even more efficient at finding information than even GAIA herself sometimes, and the unique experience she had had was sure to bring something up.

An hour passed, the sisters relentlessly ploughing through countless reams of data, before Beta finally let out a triumphant squeal, punching the air for a moment before self-consciously lowering her hand.

"You found something, didn't you?" Aloy said, looking over at her suddenly-blushing sister.

"Yes," Beta said, the flush in her cheeks fading after a moment or two. "I'll send you the data so you can see it for yourself." She brushed her hand over the display in front of her and sent it swirling over to Aloy's own Focus. The images and text took a moment to return to full clarity, but when they did, Aloy's eyes widened – the descriptions and pictures were so close to what she had experienced that it was instantly clear that this was not a bad dream or a hallucination. Unfamiliar, uncomfortable words jumped out at her almost mockingly.

Vampire.

Undead.

Nothing Aloy had learned up to this point had prepared her for this. Science and rationality had been all she had believed in before the bite, before the hunger, before the beast – but now she was confronted with something which defied all rational explanation.

What do I do now, Elisabet?