Rouen, a picturesque city nestled in northwestern France, radiates a charm indicative of its profound historical and cultural richness. The Coeur Academy, the shining emblem of the city's academic sphere, boasts of graduation rates sharply high and employment success remarkable.
But Rouen's elegant daytime façade belies the secrets harbored when evening descends. Unbeknownst to average citizens, the city is a stage for the supernatural realm or in some cases, the Moonlit World, the duration the unnatural became more active at night of secrecy.
Post dusk, under the thick tapestry of the night sky, France's quintessential city of art and history morphs into a territory under the governance of a portion of this world's equivalent to the Mages' Association.
Yet, tranquility is a fleeting luxury. For skirmishes between residents of the Moonlit World have become increasingly frequent, all thanks to the sudden appearances of a host of anonymous guests.
Preying under the moonlight, atop quintessential French half-timbered houses, is a platoon of peculiar figures etched in austere expressions. Their shared hair resembled ash, eyes were fiercely red like smoldering coals, the skin was eerily pale, and they donned meticulously tailored black suits, portraits of aristocratic grandeur.
Imbued with the legendary essence of vampires—the blood-sucking night stalkers, these creatures traced their lineage back to the iconic Count Dracula. Lured from their homeland by mysterious rumors, they sought Rouen.
Whispers of several supernatural beings disappearing under suspicious circumstances had stirred the city's underbelly. Each disappearance echoed a singular motive—intentions to attack or consume humans.
These whispers gave birth to the rumor of "Servants" residing in Rouen—formidable entities with terrific abilities annihilating supernatural intruders.
Their enigmas intrigued many supernatural beings, drawing them to the city to challenge these unseen adversaries. Nonetheless, none who attempted to confront them have returned alive. Unfazed by these tales, the vampire battalion arrived, prepared to engage with the elusive "Servants."
Their glowing red eyes scrutinized the cityscape, not racing to find the Servants, but tracing a solitary teenager's path—an unsuspecting niche source of energy before the impending clash with the Servants.
The target—a British 15-year-old high girl, garbed in a typical Coeur school uniform, her silver hair peeking underneath her black-grey hood. Her evident magical aura escalated the vampires' interest.
The vampires' sharp teeth gleamed menacingly, and one of them licked his red lips.
The girl wandered, oblivious to the impending peril. Peculiar as it was for a student to be out so late, the vampires seized the opportunity of such an effortless quarry, tracking her stealthily.
The girl's sudden detour into a shadowy alley implied she might have sensed their presence—an assumption disproven as the girl was met by a dead end, with the vampire predators blocking her only escape.
Cornered and confronted with a well of unnerving red eyes, the girl spun around, sudden realization dawning on her—the inescapable situation she had stumbled into.
Animalistic groans and breaths of need pants from the vampires' mouths.
"An innocent girl."
"Such as sweet smell—"
"We want bloood—"
"—Don't make us compel you!"
"I want to taste it."
"Taste. Blood. Need—!"
The girl seemed to shiver in disgust and hastily brought something underneath her jacket. The vampires waste no time.
Darting towards their prey, the vampires envisioned their impending satiation of sucking a sweet and lovely female's blood. They imagined her face horrifyingly realizing her fate, having never seen death face-to-face, never felt so helpless. They would feast on her maiden blood!
But there was a catch.
"First stage restraint, rescinded!"
FLASH
They barely saw a glimpse of brief purple and golden light before a large steel whirled to their faces—
SLASH
Muffled gasps echoed as severed vampire arms plummeted onto the cobblestone ground, staining them scarlet.
In a swift follow-up, the scythe too heavy for mortal hands radiating an immaculate blue hue, found its way into the heart of the closest stunned vampire.
Startled, the vampires staggered, taking in the lethal effectiveness of the teenager whose glowing, cold, golden eyes met theirs. The chilling truth gripped the vampires.
They were the hunted, not the hunters here.
They faltered, backpedaling instinctively from the silver-haired girl.
Their vampire instincts screamed at them.
Danger. Retreat.
Yet their beastly hunger gnawed at their minds, ensnaring them in a limbo between caution and bloodlust.
A bloody hole appeared in the chest of the one who was pierced, leaking a crimson liquid that coated the cobblestones like wine. His hand grasped weakly at the scythe protruding from his heart. Before long his body went still.
The girl lowered her scythe and examined them with her glowing golden eyes as if she were evaluating their worth in the fight. Her body language screamed deadly confidence–an assessment of her opponents didn't translate into fear but calculated precision.
Her aura, mysteriously harmonizing with the ghostly moonlit environment, spelled out one clear message – intrude at your peril.
The one presumed to be their leader stepped back and realized it, feeling insulted at the cause of the mere mortal. His vampiric eyes narrowed,
"Y-you!" He pointed, although there was a brief shake of his finger.
The girl remained silent. "K-kill this bitch! Bring her blood!" The leader hollers an order.
Fuelled by their leader's call, the remaining vampires sprang into action. Despite their fear, their thirst for blood and the savagery innate to their kind overpowered them. Their predatory instincts were set ablaze with the promise of an intoxicating blood meal and the chance to defeat this audacious girl.
Drawing breaths filled with resolve, the vampires lunged at the girl simultaneously, their scarlet eyes ablaze with an unholy light. Regenerated fingers morphed into gruesome claws, predatory fangs now bared—a horrifying sight under the moonlit night. However, the girl stood grounded, unafraid.
The flash of steel and gold appeared again as the scythe in her hand danced through the air with deadly grace. Every swift parry and counter-strike was executed with eerie precision, her movements flowing like a lethal ballet choreographed to the symphony of the night.
SLASH
SLASH
Screams pierced the night once more as vampire after vampire fell, their bodies grotesquely mutating back to their true monstrous forms.
The cobblestones were bathed crimson with their spilled life essence, the metallic stench of blood filling the alley. Mana steered off from their corpses and seemed to be absorbed by the scythe.
Even in the face of such quick retaliation, the leader held his ground, watching in muted horror as his coven was decimated. Pure rage bubbled within him, mixing with the slowly seeping fear. With an inhuman roar, he charged at the girl, his form distorting, swelling, into the ancient monster hidden beneath the gentlemanly exterior.
Yet, the girl met him without missing a beat, her cool, golden eyes meeting his fiery stare. As he leaped towards her, the lethal glow of her scythe was the last thing he saw.
She moved with the speed and precision only a Servant could achieve. Her silver hair tied in a bun fanned strands behind her, air blowing out her hood. The scythe was but a blur of steel and light, its path swift and unerring.
In one clean movement, the vampire leader was defeated, his triumphant roar fading into a mere whimper.
His body slumped onto the cobblestones, another addition to the gruesome tableau in the alley.
After the brutal showdown, the silence was punctuated by the soft sound of the boots of the silver-haired girl clicking against the cobblestones. The silence was eerie, like a mausoleum, paying homage to the fallen vampires. The once menacing predators lay vanquished and unmoving, rendering the scene surreal under the pale moonlight.
The girl lowered her scythe, the golden hue around the weapon slowly dimming until it faded completely. Blood splatters marred the bluish tone of her weapon, but it didn't seem to discomfort her.
With a last, impassive glance at the leader's lifeless form, she turned, her tied silver hair shifting slightly with her movements as she put her hood on again. Her scythe collapsed; gears came undone, its handle retracted, and parts shrank into a cube-like cage. Her golden eyes, once blazing with an intense fighting spirit, began to regain their ordinary gleam, beautiful green eyes.
From her pocket, she produced a small magical device, presumably a communicator given to all those who guarded the Mortal World, used to report incidents like these. Pressing a button and holding it near to her ear, she spoke with gravitas, "This is Gray... Elimination complete. Intruders have been nullified. Return to usual surveillance."
Regaining her nonchalant stance, the girl walked away from the alley—the stage of her recent ferocious battle—and melted into the shadows of Rouen's night.
"Well, those bloodsuckers seemed to be disappointing, right? I mean, I got the idea they'd be better than what we get every day. Schoolwork!"
Ignoring her annoying mystic code, she left behind the night's remnants of the supernatural clash, the scents of blood, iron, and the grotesque sight of fallen vampires would disappear come to the break of dawn, erasing traces of the Moonlit World. As far as the ordinary citizens would be concerned, tranquility was restored to their beloved city.
Meanwhile, in underground hubs of the moonlit supernatural world, tales of the vampire massacre added another daunting layer to the already ominous rumors about the 'Servants.' The balance of power had shifted, and the creatures of the night were reminded once again about the true guardians of Rouen, and later on, Mankind itself.
Above all, Gray continued her vigil silently, safeguarding Rouen's peace, remaining an unsung hero in the Mortal World.
In another part of Rouen, a similar circumstance had just ended. A female figure stood over a lifeless furred humanoid body.
Wearing a black, tight outfit consisting of form-fitting pants and a revealing top, and a white plain mask that speaks death.
She took a moment to catch a small breath, making a quiet promise to spend as much time as possible outside of Chaldea 2. The events of the past months had led her to follow the supernatural signatures she could detect, which comprised a magnitude of rogue supernatural.
She didn't hold many predispositions against others for their choice, but what compelled her and her fellow Servants to hunt them down mercilessly was their propensity to harm humans. While Da Vinci's advice was to remain low profile, they couldn't turn a blind eye to the rogues' malevolence.
And so, she found himself on yet another hunt.
Swiftly, she moved through the shadows of an urban complex that had been neglected and abandoned, leaving the wolf-like corpse behind, the cracked walls of the buildings exposing the frames beneath, and the blurred grey windows showcasing the accumulation of dust, hinting of long neglect. The neighborhood had been left behind, but there were still people living there. It was for their sake that she would act.
Crouching on the ground, she sensed something and turned her head towards a direction past one of the back alleys. Knives materialized in her hands, ready to kill and assassinate.
Silently, a low growl echoed through the air, catching her attention. Her eyes narrowed behind her mask as she spotted a pair of glowing amber eyes, watching her from the shadows of the alley.
"A human? No, not ordinary human," Another humanoid, wolf-like creature snarled, baring its sharp, fanged teeth. "But, you meddling in my affairs."
Loup-Garou, also known as werewolves, are humanoid creatures of folklore and mythology that possess the ability to transform into wolves or wolf-like forms during the full moon or at will.
In many legends, the transformation into a werewolf is said to be triggered by the influence of the full moon. During this time, the individual affected by lycanthropy undergoes a physical and mental change, taking on the characteristics of a wolf. Their senses become heightened, their strength and agility increase and their primal instincts take over, leading them to become savagely territorial and aggressive.
The Loup-Garou, specifically, is often associated with French and French-Canadian folklore. These werewolves are believed to be cursed individuals who transform into powerful and bloodthirsty wolves. They are known for their ferocity and savagery.
Her guard dropped, a twitch forming on her brow as the werewolf revealed himself. It was always the same - arrogance and hostility.
The figure remained calm, her grip on the knives. Engaging in a battle with a Loup-Garou was no easy task, but she had faced countless dangerous creatures before, and she was no ordinary human.
With lightning speed, she lunged forward, her knives gleaming in the moonlight. The Loup-Garou fought back with equal ferocity, claws slashing through the air.
But with a swift movement of the precise strike, her knife pierced through the chest and plunged into the Loup-Garou's heart, immediately ending the confrontation with a surprised guttural howl. This brief fight with the werewolf had been a joke.
Breathing, she wiped the blood from her blades and glanced around, ensuring no other rogues lurked nearby. Satisfied that the area was secure, she made her way toward the unconscious body, intending to restrain and report her findings to her authorities.
As Serenity walked away from the scene, she disappeared into the night, her surveillance far from over.