The warehouse gradually settled into silence.
After several long moments spent studying the maps and scattered reports, Alexander finally looked up.
"So..." Alexander's gaze moved between Blade and Hannibal, "What's the next move?"
Neither answered immediately.
Blade simply walked toward one of the tables lining the far wall, and without saying a word, he unfastened several pouches from his belt before beginning the familiar routine of cleaning and inspecting his equipment.
Each movement was practised, efficient, almost mechanical.
Silver stakes. Fresh magazines. His sword. Everything was carefully checked before being returned to its proper place.
Alexander quietly watched for a few moments, as there was something strangely calming about the process.
Blade never hesitated. Every silver stake was briefly examined before disappearing back into its sheath. Every magazine was checked almost by instinct. Even while wiping the long blade of his sword, his movements remained smooth and practised as though he had repeated the same routine countless times before.
No movement was wasted. No motion appeared unnecessary.
It looked less like someone maintaining weapons and more like a craftsman performing a familiar ritual that had long since become second nature.
Hannibal, meanwhile, gathered several loose folders before spreading them across the central table, "We've been following Deacon Frost's trail for months."
His finger slowly traced a route across one of the maps, "London. New York. Chicago. Finally... here in Los Angeles."
He tapped the final marker, "Recently we've become fairly certain he'll be attending an exclusive gathering here in the city. A gathering we believe consists almost entirely of influential vampires."
Roland leaned slightly closer to examine the documents before asking, "What exactly led you to that conclusion?"
Hannibal answered without hesitation, "His coffin."
The warehouse immediately fell into a baffled silence as only the faint sound of Blade cleaning his sword could be heard.
Alexander blinked, and Roland's expression became politely puzzled.
Seeing that neither of them understood, Hannibal gave a faint smile and said, "I probably should explain."
He rested both hands upon the table and explained, "Every vampire has to rest upon soil taken from the place where they were born. It's one of their oldest supernatural restrictions. Without it... they can't travel more than roughly one hundred miles from their birthplace."
Alexander's eyebrows rose slightly before he reasoned, "So wherever they go... They need to bring that soil with them."
Hannibal nodded and added, "Usually inside their coffin or another prepared resting place."
He pointed toward several reports and continued to explain, "Coffins are surprisingly difficult to hide. They're physical objects. They require transportation. Storage. Delivery. All these are things that leave clear records."
He gave a small shrug before saying, "If you know where to look... they're actually one of the easiest things to track."
Alexander slowly nodded while thinking, 'It is surprisingly mundane. For creatures of the night surrounded by countless myths and supernatural abilities... Being caught because someone tracked a shipping manifest somehow feels almost amusing...'
Blade finally joined the conversation and added, "It isn't foolproof."
Alexander looked toward him as he continued, "It works, but because everyone knows it works... It also makes a good decoy. And many crafty vampires took advantage of that before."
Alexander nodded thoughtfully, as it was a sensible observation. If he were trying to mislead pursuers, false logistical trails would probably be among the first things he created.
After a small moment of silence, Roland folded his arms and said, "If we're expected to become involved... I'd appreciate knowing how to kill one."
Blade didn't even need to think as he answered, "The various books and stories got many of them right. The most basic and well-known weakness is that they need blood to survive. Without it... They weaken until they die."
He held up one finger, "Religious symbols. They only work if the person holding them actually believes. The size doesn't matter. Faith does. But they only cause an instinctive fear in the vampire, and it will burn them if they touch it."
Another finger. "Wooden stakes. Driven through the heart. It kills them and, for some unknown reason, it prevents the various mystical energies that empower a vampire from circulating through the body. Remove the stake... They get back up."
Alexander quietly stored every detail away while Blade continued, "Silver. Works almost as well as the wooden stake; it can kill them if driven through the heart. What is important is that vampires heal much slower from silver wounds."
Finally, he concluded, "Lastly... Sunlight. This one is also quite well-known. During the daylight hours, a vampire falls into a dormant, comatose, death-like state and will remain that way until sunset. However, direct exposure to sunlight will quickly dry them and turn them into ashes."
Alexander compared the information with what little he remembered, and most of it sounded familiar, sure some details differed from other interpretations he vaguely recalled, but he already expected this, 'After all, Marvel continuity... is Marvel continuity.'
Hannibal gathered everyone's attention once more as he returned to the main topic, "Regardless... This gathering remains our best opportunity. If Frost really attends, we'll have dozens of vampires in one location."
Roland's expression remained perfectly calm as he quickly recapitulated, "So your plan... Is to attack a gathering of vampires."
Hannibal nodded once.
Roland sighed before he said, "I hope you'll forgive my honesty. But it sounds remarkably suicidal."
Blade chuckled quietly without looking up from sharpening his sword.
Alexander, however, remained focused on the documents because something continued bothering him.
Finally, something clicked in his mind; he tapped one of the reports and said, "Doesn't this seem a little too convenient?"
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.
Alexander continued, "Frost has successfully avoided both of you for months. And now... You're suddenly finding obvious trails. Coffins. Gatherings. Rumours."
He looked toward Hannibal and told them his suspicion, "It almost feels like he wants you to find this place."
Silence settled over the warehouse.
Blade smiled while Hannibal slowly rubbed his forehead and said, "We reached the same conclusion. And our recent encounter with Blade's doppelgänger only reinforced it."
Blade calmly slid another silver stake into its sheath and commented, "Wouldn't be the first trap I've walked into."
Hannibal remained silent for several seconds before quietly adding, "If we ignore it because it is a trap... Frost disappears again."
He looked down at the map spread across the table and continued, "We've spent months chasing whispers across half the country. Every time we got close... another trail went cold."
His expression hardened almost imperceptibly, "I fear that if we let this opportunity pass, we may never get another one like this."
Blade finally looked up from his sword.
"If he's waiting..." his voice remained calm, "...Then I'll be there. No matter what kind of trap he prepared."
No one needed to ask who he meant.
Roland raised an eyebrow and observed, "You say that rather casually."
Blade shrugged, "I've had plenty of similar experiences."
Roland looked him up and down and said, "Forgive me, but you don't appear old enough to have accumulated that much experience."
For the first time since arriving, Blade actually laughed.
It was short, rough, almost unfamiliar.
Hannibal smiled faintly and said, "Looks can be deceptive."
He leaned against the table and continued, "Once, he mentioned helping destroy a possessed Nazi submarine during the Second World War."
Roland stopped blinking for several seconds.
At the same time, Alexander simply looked toward Blade and couldn't help but ask, "Just... How old are you?"
Blade shrugged again and casually revealed, "Born on October 24... 1929."
Alexander mentally performed the calculation almost automatically, 'Holy crap... He is 61. He certainly doesn't look 61. Then again, very little about Blade is qualified as ordinary...'
Alexander looked toward Blade once again as it was difficult to reconcile the number with the man standing before him.
Blade looked somewhere around his early 30s at most, not 61.
Roland slowly nodded as though several old stories had suddenly begun making considerably more sense.
"I must admit," he said with quiet honesty, "It feels strange knowing that you're about 10 years older than me... Now I feel like I should use a more respectful tone."
After that surprising revelation, Alexander gently steered the conversation back toward the mission, "What else do we know? The location of this gathering. The attendees. The timetable. Anything that could be useful?"
Hannibal shuffled through another stack of papers before selecting several photographs, "The gathering begins tonight."
He unfolded another map, "The location is the Drake Manor somewhere around the Hollywood Hills."
Alexander studied the photograph and saw a sprawling estate surrounded by gardens.
Alexander studied the estate a little longer.
The architecture was impressive, but what truly caught his attention wasn't the building itself. It was the way everything had been arranged.
A long private driveway. Gardens large enough to keep unwanted guests well away from the main residence. Limited entrances that naturally directed every visitor toward carefully controlled checkpoints.
Whoever organised the event clearly understood both luxury and security.
It also reminded Alexander far too much of the countless charity galas and formal gatherings his father occasionally attended.
Elegant clothes. Polite smiles. Meaningless conversations between influential people pretending they enjoyed one another's company.
It was elegant and private. Precisely the sort of residence where wealthy elites gathered without attracting unwanted attention, the kind of place he visited many times while accompanying his father during various charity galas, business gatherings and other similar pretentious celebrations.
Alexander smiled wryly while thinking, 'The only real difference is that this time some of the guests intended to drink human blood before the night ended... Well, maybe not so different after all...'
"Officially, it belongs to an eccentric billionaire who collects European artwork. A certain Justin Drake." Hannibal allowed himself a humourless smile before he added, "Unofficially, we have no idea of the identity of the true owner of that manor...'
Then he continued, "Regarding the attendees... Human celebrities, businessmen, politicians. They've all been invited to the exclusive masquerade ball so that the vampires can hide in plain sight"
Roland slowly nodded and observed, "That's a clever cover."
Hannibal agreed and said, "That's also why the difficult part is going to be getting inside..."
Alexander and Roland exchanged a brief glance.
It only lasted a second, but it proved enough as Alexander looked back toward his guardian and asked, "Roland. Did Father receive an invitation?"
Roland answered almost immediately, "He did. And so did you, Master Alexander. And as usual I filed the invitation away with the others."
"As expected... My father dislikes attending these late-night social events and avoids them unless absolutely necessary." Alexander smiled faintly and added, "And I usually take advantage of my young age to avoid most of them."
Roland returned the smile and said, "It seems that this time you can't dodge your social obligations, Master Alexander."
Once again the warehouse fell into a stunned silence.
Blade looked toward Hannibal. Hannibal looked toward Blade, then both slowly turned toward Alexander. Their expressions were almost identical.
Alexander noticed immediately.
He spread his hands helplessly before allowing himself a small smirk and quoting a well-known bat-themed superhero, "What can I say... I'm rich."
The deadpan stares that answered him lasted several long seconds.
Alexander cleared his throat and embarassment with a fake cough and said, "In any case... That solves the infiltration problem."
He pointed toward Blade and Hannibal and continued, "You'll attend as my security detail."
Neither vampire hunter found any reason to object.
The four gathered around the central table once more and started to expand the strategy for the night, discussing possible approaches, escape routes, signals, objectives, contingencies and so on.
The discussion gradually shifted toward the greatest obstacle.
Numbers. There were just too many vampires.
Blade calmly admitted that even he couldn't fight an entire gathering indefinitely, and Hannibal agreed that it was beyond reckless, and they needed a plan to at the very least distract, if not stun, most of them.
Alexander quietly listened, then an idea came to his mind, making him smile before he said, "I think... I might have the perfect solution."
Everyone looked toward him.
Alexander didn't immediately explain; instead, he closed his eyes for a brief moment.
His consciousness once again entered the familiar Card Database where countless cards unfolded before him.
For a few moments, he carefully considered several possibilities before dismissing them one after another.
Some were too destructive. Others relied upon circumstances they couldn't guarantee. A handful simply consumed more Duel Energy than he wished to spend.
Then his attention settled upon one particular card.
A small smile slowly appeared as he thought, 'Perfect.'
The card immediately materialised within his waiting hand.
He studied the artwork for only a heartbeat before placing it upon the table.
Blade's eyes immediately settled upon it, recognising it as the same kind of card Alexander used to summon that knight, but one depicting a different creature. After reading the text, for the first time that evening, a broad grin appeared across the vampire hunter's face as he declared, "Oh...That's just perfect."
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