Chapter 5: Born Again Under a Silent Moon

Alpha was born screaming.

Not like a child—but like something dragged back into the world against its will.

Air burned his lungs. Light stabbed his eyes. His body convulsed as instinct reached for power that wasn’t there. No claws. No fangs. No dominance. Just fragile skin, a racing heart, and hands too small to be dangerous.

The system moved before panic could take hold.

[REINCARNATION STABILIZATION ACTIVE]

[POWER VEIL: ENABLED]

[HYBRID CORE: CONCEALED]

The scream tore from him again—then cut off as unfamiliar arms wrapped him tight. A voice murmured above him, shaking, human and afraid.

“Easy… easy… you’re safe.”

Safe.

The word meant nothing.

Alpha felt the absence first. His wolf—silent. His vampire blood—muted, dull as ash. The immense presence he once carried was gone, compressed into something so small it barely registered.

The system explained nothing.

It simply hid him.

[NOTICE:]

Primary abilities suppressed to avoid early detection

Reason: World-state instability

Recommendation: Remain weak

Darkness crept in as exhaustion claimed him. But the world did not rest.

Not that night.

Across the territory—across every territory—children were being born.

In the northern packs, an infant shattered the birthing chamber with a howl too strong for new lungs. Elders fell to their knees, sensing dominance that wasn’t earned.

Candidate: Alpha Class — ACCEPTED

In the eastern forests, twins were born beneath a broken moon, their wolves answering before they ever breathed.

Candidate: Alpha Class — ACCEPTED

In the high mountains, a child opened glowing eyes and stared down the pack leader without fear.

Candidate: Alpha Class — ACCEPTED

The world was correcting itself.

Balancing the scales.

Because a True Alpha had returned—even veiled, even broken—and reality could not allow him to rise alone.

The vampires felt it next.

Deep beneath cities and cathedrals, in chambers lined with bone and velvet, ancient blood stirred.

A child was born with fangs already formed.

Royal Candidate — VERIFIED

Another drew blood from the midwife by accident—instinctive, effortless.

Royal Candidate — VERIFIED

In a forgotten court, an infant’s heartbeat echoed like a command through the crypts.

Royal Candidate — VERIFIED

Too many.

Far too many.

Alpha slept through it all.

The system ensured that.

[WORLD RESPONSE DETECTED]

Threat Level: Extreme

Countermeasure: Dilution of Authority

He dreamed—not of crowns or blood—but of silence. Of something missing. Of a warmth he could no longer reach.

When he woke again, days later, he was still weak.

Still human-passing.

Still hidden.

[STATUS:]

Level: 1

Species Flags: LOCKED

Alpha Dominance: SEALED

Vampire Sovereignty: SEALED

Only one thing remained active.

[PASSIVE TRAIT:]

Bloodline Echo — UNKNOWN FUNCTION

Alpha stared at the ceiling of his new life, unaware of the chaos his rebirth had already caused.

Multiple Alphas would rise.

Multiple vampire royals would claim crowns.

Wars would be fought over titles that meant nothing.

Because there was only one throne the world was actually afraid of.

And it was still pretending he did not exist.

Alpha’s childhood passed quietly.

Too quietly.

While other children shifted early, while claws tore through skin and eyes glowed beneath the moon, Alpha remained ordinary. He bruised easily. He healed slowly. He lost fights he shouldn’t have survived and won none he was supposed to.

The system never intervened.

[POWER VEIL: MAINTAINED]

[INTERFERENCE: DENIED]

At six, a boy in his pack shattered stone during training.

Alpha couldn’t lift it.

At eight, another child howled and forced three wolves to submit instinctively.

Alpha’s wolf never answered.

At ten, whispers followed him through the territory.

Weak.

Late-bloomer.

Defective.

Alpha learned early that strength wouldn’t come to him.

So he built something else.

He watched.

He memorized patterns—how older wolves moved before striking, how dominance wasn’t just power but timing. He trained alone at night, running until his lungs burned, striking trees until his knuckles split, studying old combat footage and pack records he wasn’t supposed to access.

He learned pain.

And patience.

By twelve, Alpha candidates were already being named.

Public ceremonies. Lunar trials. Blood oaths.

He stood in the back, anonymous, hands scarred, heart steady.

[ALPHA CANDIDATE STATUS: REJECTED]

The system did not comment.

High school approached like a distant gate—one only the elite were meant to pass through.

Apex Academy.

The world’s most famous supernatural school. Where future pack leaders, vampire royals, witches, hunters, and hybrids trained under the eyes of the strongest factions alive.

Acceptance was brutal.

Physical trials.

Power evaluations.

Lineage verification.

Most were eliminated before the second stage.

Alpha failed the power test.

Barely passed endurance.

Scored high enough in combat theory that the examiner looked twice.

“Who trained you?” they asked.

“No one,” Alpha answered.

That was a lie.

He trained with ghosts—memories of strength he wasn’t allowed to touch.

Meanwhile, the others soared.

The Alpha candidates he’d watched grow since childhood shattered records. Their names spread online. Fans argued over rankings. Packs competed to sponsor them.

The vampire royal candidates arrived draped in confidence and old blood. Their presence alone warped the air. Teachers bowed slightly without realizing it.

Alpha stood among them in a plain uniform.

No aura.

No title.

No backing.

Just effort.

When the acceptance list posted, his name sat at the very bottom.

Conditional Admission.

[SYSTEM NOTICE:]

Probability of Survival at Apex Academy: 12%

Recommendation: Withdraw

Alpha didn’t.

On move-in day, helicopters hovered overhead. News drones broadcast arrivals. Power clashed in the air like pressure fronts colliding.

Alpha walked through the gates on foot.

The moment he crossed the boundary, the system reacted.

[LOCATION: APEX ACADEMY — THREAT LEVEL MAXIMUM]

[POWER VEIL: REINFORCED]

Around him, future kings laughed. Future tyrants smiled. Future monsters tested each other with glances alone.

None of them looked at Alpha twice.

Which was exactly how the system wanted it.

As night fell over the academy, Alpha sat alone in his dorm room—last bed, far corner, shared with no one important.

He stared at his hands.

They were still weak.

But they were steady.

Outside, howls echoed. Vampires tested territory. Rankings began forming before classes even started.

Alpha lay back on the thin mattress and closed his eyes.

He had barely made it.

And that was the first victory no one saw.