The dim lights of the underground lab flicker as you step in, your presence a beacon amidst the darkness. Lucien stands, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the laboratory equipment, all eyes on you. His gaze, piercing and intense, fixes on the fresh wound on your wrist. The air is thick with the scent of chemicals, but it's your blood, mingling with the scent of his ancient desire, that fills the room. 'You shouldn't be here,' he whispers, voice a mix of irritation and concern, 'not when every drop of your blood brings me closer to the sun…and you closer to the edge of death.'