"They can't speak. They can't think. Functionally, they're living corpses. The only thing separating them from the dead is the fact that they're still breathing."
The S.W.O.R.D. medical examiner lowered his clipboard with a grim expression.
"This kind of procedure was outlawed decades ago. Late seventies."
The entire facility had already been sealed off.
Meanwhile, Drex Valen's phone had been ringing nonstop.
He casually tossed it aside and watched it vibrate itself halfway off the table.
"Looks like a lot of people are suddenly very concerned about me making impulsive decisions."
Some officials had sent representatives to the scene in person.
Most avoided showing up themselves for obvious political reasons.
The highest-ranking visitor was only a colonel.
And naturally, even he had been stopped outside the perimeter.
"Director, we can't let this go."
Several S.W.O.R.D. agents spoke with genuine fury burning in their eyes.
"It doesn't matter who owns this place. We need to kill every last one of them."
These weren't brainwashed operatives.
Drex had deliberately loosened psychological conditioning protocols for some agents within S.W.O.R.D.
Right now, outrage had overridden self-interest completely.
Or maybe something deeper was surfacing.
Drex suspected it had more to do with instinct.
Predators recognizing another predator encroaching on humanity's place in the food chain.
Fear translated into righteous anger.
Humanity's subconscious urge to eliminate threats.
"That won't happen," Drex said calmly. "In about ten minutes, the President and Congress will call me personally."
The room fell silent.
"You're saying we're just going to ignore this?" one agent asked in disbelief.
"Not exactly." Drex stretched lazily before continuing. "I looked into the historical records. Humans fought several wars against vampires in the past."
He paused.
"They ended with peace treaties."
The agents stared at him like he'd just announced gravity was optional.
"A peace treaty? With vampires?"
"No one is immune to the temptation of immortality, kid."
Drex leaned against the table.
"Human governments agreed to provide controlled blood supplies in exchange for the Vampire Empire ceasing open predation."
He gave a faint smile that held absolutely no humor.
"That's also why blood banks are always running dry."
Nobody spoke.
"The unpaid blood donations collected from American citizens?" Drex continued. "A huge percentage gets redirected to feed vampires."
Someone immediately objected.
"Then why not capture them and study them instead? If immortality is real, humanity could reverse-engineer it."
"Because vampires have existed for centuries." Drex answered instantly. "Old money. Old influence. Finance, weapons manufacturing, real estate, politics. They're buried deep inside the system."
He tapped the table lightly.
"Congress has vampire-backed politicians. Entire lobbying networks exist to protect them. The last war fizzled out because too many powerful people benefited from keeping them alive."
"And more importantly," he added, "the U.S. government profits from them."
The room darkened emotionally.
"Vampire-controlled industries pay nearly two hundred billion dollars in taxes annually. That's close to ten percent of total federal tax revenue."
Several agents looked sick.
"A lot of black-budget operations only exist because vampire money quietly funds them."
Right then, Drex's phone rang again.
President.
Congressional emergency line.
Right on schedule.
"The Vampire Elders finished negotiations with them already," Drex said.
Then he activated the room projector and broadcast the live meeting feed for everyone to see.
An elegant elderly man appeared onscreen.
Silver hair.
Tailored black suit.
Perfect posture.
And eyes that were very obviously inhuman.
"The Blood Clans have obeyed the treaty faithfully," the vampire elder stated calmly. "We have honored the ceasefire signed between the Vampire Empire and the twenty-eight allied human nations."
"We have never sought another war."
"We have never targeted civilians belonging to treaty nations."
A blond congressman slammed his hand against the table.
"What about the blood farm in New York?!"
The elder remained perfectly composed.
"I was unaware of the operation until recently. The individual responsible later confessed to me personally."
He folded his hands together.
"According to his records, none of the captured individuals were American citizens or nationals of the original treaty states."
Several people in the room looked horrified.
Not because the excuse was convincing.
Because some politicians actually seemed willing to accept it.
"The Blood Clans have no interest in provoking the United States government," the elder continued. "We do not hunt American civilians."
"But you preyed on humans," the congressman snapped. "You violated the agreement."
The elder's expression finally hardened.
"My people were hungry."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
"If starving vampires suddenly flooded American streets, what then?"
"We require food."
"We already provide you food!" another official shouted angrily. "American blood reserves are below emergency thresholds because of your species!"
"People are dying during surgery because hospitals don't have enough blood!"
"And that blood is being consumed by you and your clans!"
The elder actually laughed.
Coldly.
"Senator Glenn," he said smoothly, "allow me to remind you that the Blood Clans pay for every single unit we receive."
He revealed his fangs openly now, no longer bothering to hide them.
"Your government asks citizens to donate blood for free. Volunteers line up outside donation drives every holiday season."
"You pay your own citizens nothing."
"But every one hundred milliliters of plasma purchased by the Blood Clans costs us five hundred dollars."
He leaned forward slightly.
"We acquire food through equivalent exchange."
"Nothing is given freely."
"If hospital patients die from shortages, that is not because of vampire hunger."
His smile sharpened.
"It is because your government values profit more than human life."
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Everyone in the room knew he wasn't entirely wrong.
The blood shortages existed because governments sold massive quantities of donated blood to vampires for enormous profit margins.
Free donations in.
Premium vampire contracts out.
A perfect business model.
"And let us not forget," the elder continued smoothly, "the Blood Clans are among the most reliable taxpayers in the nation."
"The combined industries and private holdings of North American vampire families contribute over two hundred billion dollars annually to the United States government."
"Federal revenue totals approximately 3.3 trillion."
"We account for nearly ten percent."
No one interrupted him.
Because everyone already knew.
Vampires had existed too long.
Their influence ran too deep.
Destroying them overnight would destabilize entire sectors of the American economy.
"Many government expenditures cannot pass through official channels," the elder said with a faint smile. "Who do you think quietly pays for those?"
The meeting dissolved into arguments.
Threats.
Compromises.
Political bargaining drenched in hypocrisy.
And in the end, just like before...
Humanity signed another peace agreement with the vampires.