The brothers found temporary shelter in an abandoned subway station beneath what had once been a thriving metropolis. The tunnels, reinforced against nuclear threats during a war no one remembered anymore, provided natural protection from both the elements and the roaming bands of feral vampires that hunted at night.

  Eli had transformed the central ptform into a functional living space—salvaged furniture, stockpiled supplies, even a generator that provided limited electricity for a few precious hours each day. Subject 23 noted the military precision of the yout; everything positioned for maximum efficiency, multiple escape routes mapped and prepared, defensive positions established at all potential entry points. His little brother had adapted to this new world with disturbing effectiveness.

  "You should rest," Eli said, arranging a makeshift bed from surprisingly clean bnkets. "We'll figure out our next steps tomorrow."

  Subject 23 didn't argue. Despite his enhanced physiology and extraordinary regenerative abilities, months of continuous experimentation had taken a toll. Not physical—his body had repaired all damage—but mental. He needed time to process his freedom, to adjust to a world without restraints and monitoring equipment.

  "I'll take watch," Eli added, checking his weapons with practiced efficiency. "We're secure here, but I'd rather not take chances."

  Sleep came more easily than Subject 23 expected. Perhaps it was the retive comfort after months on an examination table, or simply the presence of his brother providing a security he hadn't felt since before his transformation. Whatever the reason, he slipped quickly into deep slumber.

  And then the dreams began.

  At first, they seemed like ordinary dreams—fragments of memory, distorted reflections of his recent experiences. But gradually, they coalesced into something more coherent, more vivid than any dream he'd experienced before.

  He found himself witnessing scenes from pces he'd never been, involving a young man he'd never met. The setting appeared to be some kind of research facility, not unlike the one he'd recently been freed from, but with subtle differences that made it feel somehow distant—perhaps in pce, perhaps in time.

  The subject of these dreams was what captivated him most. The young man—little more than a teenager—seemed to be neither fully human nor fully animal. He possessed features of both, something Subject 23 had never seen before. A hybrid of some kind, though Subject 23 couldn't understand how such a being could exist.

  In that first dream, he observed as researchers conducted tests on the young man, who was identified only by a designation on his containment cell: NOVA. The tests weren't as brutal as what Subject 23 had endured, but they were invasive nonetheless—genetic sampling, response testing, psychological evaluation. Throughout it all, Nova maintained a quiet dignity that seemed incongruous with his circumstances.

  Subject 23 woke feeling strangely troubled by the dream. It had possessed a crity and consistency that seemed impossible for ordinary dream logic. More peculiar still was his emotional response—he felt genuine concern for a person who didn't exist, a figure conjured by his sleeping mind.

  The following night, he dreamed of Nova again. This time, he witnessed the young hybrid being forced to perform tasks for the amusement of his captors—a vampire noble of some kind who treated him as a pet or curiosity. Nova was made to demonstrate his unusual abilities, a blend of human intelligence with what appeared to be animal strength and agility. Subject 23 didn't understand what he was seeing; no such creatures existed in the current world.

  What struck him most profoundly was Nova's suffering—the humiliation of being dispyed, the pain of punishments when he failed to perform as expected, the isotion of his existence. Yet beneath it all, Subject 23 sensed something unbroken in the young hybrid. A core of self that remained intact despite everything done to crush it.

  Initially, he felt only pity for this dream figure—a natural response to witnessing suffering. But as the dreams continued night after night, always featuring Nova in different scenarios but always in captivity, his feelings began to shift.

  On the fifth night, he dreamed of Nova attempting escape. The hybrid had meticulously studied the patterns of his captors, identified weaknesses in his confinement, and executed a pn that demonstrated remarkable ingenuity. He almost succeeded—making it further than should have been possible given the security measures surrounding him.

  When he was inevitably recaptured, the punishment was severe. Subject 23 witnessed Nova's agony, felt it almost as his own. Yet what astonished him was the aftermath. Where most would have been broken by such consequences, Nova began pnning again almost immediately. The failure hadn't diminished his resolve but had instead provided new information for his next attempt.

  "Why do you continue?" one of his captors demanded in the dream, genuinely confused by Nova's persistence. "You must understand by now that escape is impossible."

  Nova's response was simple: "Because every attempt teaches me something new. And eventually, I'll know enough to succeed."

  That response lingered in Subject 23's mind long after he woke, echoing throughout the day as he and Eli discussed their own immediate future. The dream-Nova's determination in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds struck a chord within him. It wasn't mere stubbornness or delusion—it was a calcuted persistence, a refusal to accept permanent defeat while still acknowledging temporary failures.

  With each passing night, the dreams of Nova grew more detailed, more emotionally resonant. Subject 23 witnessed the hybrid's small acts of resistance—maintaining personal rituals despite restrictions, finding moments of beauty in his confined existence, forming connections with others in simir circumstances when possible. Nova never surrendered his agency, even when his freedom was completely restricted.

  After two weeks of these dreams, Subject 23 no longer felt pity for Nova. Instead, he found himself experiencing profound admiration. The hybrid's circumstances were objectively worse than his own had ever been. Subject 23 had at least experienced freedom before his capture; Nova had known nothing but captivity. Subject 23's confinement had been self-chosen, a form of penance; Nova's was imposed without justification. Yet Nova fought continuously for change, while Subject 23 had surrendered to punishment.

  "You seem different," Eli observed one evening, as they finished their meal of scavenged supplies and synthesized blood. "More... present."

  Subject 23 considered this assessment. "I've been having strange dreams," he admitted finally.

  "Nightmares?" Eli asked, his expression concerned. "About the facility?"

  "No," Subject 23 replied. "About someone I've never met. Someone who doesn't exist, as far as I know."

  He described Nova to his brother—the hybrid nature, the captivity, the continuous resistance against oppression. Eli listened attentively, his expression growing more thoughtful as the description continued.

  "It's odd," Subject 23 concluded. "He's just a dream, but he feels real. His struggles feel significant somehow."

  Eli was silent for a long moment before responding. "Maybe your mind is trying to tell you something."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This Nova—he's captive like you were, but he never stops fighting to change his situation. Maybe part of you recognizes that's what you should be doing too." Eli leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Instead of surrendering to guilt, maybe you should be using your abilities to make things better."

  That night, the dream changed. For the first time, Subject 23 didn't merely observe Nova as a distant spectator. Instead, he experienced the dream from within Nova's consciousness—felt the hybrid's determination, his calcuted patience, his absolute refusal to accept the limitations others imposed upon him.

  He also felt something new: hope. Not the naive hope of those who haven't experienced true adversity, but the tempered hope of someone who acknowledges reality while refusing to be defined by it. Nova believed in the possibility of change, even if he couldn't see the exact path to achieving it.

  Subject 23 woke with a crity he hadn't experienced since before his transformation. The contrast between Nova's approach and his own was stark and undeniable. Nova, with his limited resources and restricted freedom, never stopped working toward positive change. Subject 23, with his unprecedented powers and abilities, had chosen surrender and self-punishment instead.

  Yet unlike Nova, he possessed the capacity to effect real change in the world. His unique status as the original vampire, the progenitor of an entire species, gave him influence no other being possessed. If he could sense and communicate with all his descendants to some degree, couldn't that connection be leveraged for something beyond self-fgeltion?

  The realization hit him with the force of physical impact: he had been using his guilt as an excuse for inaction. True atonement wouldn't come through suffering punishment but through working to repair what had been broken—or, at minimum, preventing further damage.

  The realization hit him with the force of physical impact: he had been using his guilt as an excuse for inaction. True atonement wouldn't come through suffering punishment but through working to repair what had been broken—or, at minimum, preventing further damage.

  Subject 23 looked at his sleeping brother across their makeshift shelter. Unlike Nova, he possessed the capacity to effect real change in this broken world. His unique status as the original vampire, the progenitor of an entire species, gave him influence no other being possessed.

  For the first time since his transformation, Subject 23 felt something beyond guilt and self-loathing. Like Nova in his dreams, he couldn't yet see the exact path forward, but he understood the direction. The first step wasn't having all the answers, but simply refusing to accept the current reality as unchangeable.

  This dream figure had awakened him to his true purpose: not to suffer for the past, but to work for a better future.

  This inspired Subject 23 to start pnning.