My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything-Chapter 427: Welcome Home, Genesis

Even if the world or its inhabitants didn't know it, it had changed.

A subtle change, but change nonetheless.

For a man with power has realized just what he has, and isn't afraid to use it.

That day found Ezra standing alone in the weave room, one of the most secure places at the heart of his domain, where he utilized his greatest ability, bending power to intent and changing possibilities like mist.

This was where he saw all things.

And tonight, it would be where he brought someone back.

The room was positively shivering with thick energy, the walls humming faintly as the vitality-charged atmosphere, rich from the changed world, pressed in from all directions.

Ezra stood at the center, his focus absolute. The pillar, which was his conduit for easy access to the weave, had been retracted to the floor. He didn't need a crutch for this one. He had to do it himself.

This would be the most delicate thing he had ever attempted.

He wasn't raising the dead. He wasn't using necromancy.

He was creating life out of existing life. All he was doing was following the laws of the world. Energy cannot be created or destroyed. It can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another.

That was what he was attempting. And he would not fail.

With his Eternal powers fully awakened, Ezra now stood at the intersection of the weave, the world, and the will.

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"Let's begin." He whispered, more to himself than anyone.

Floating a few paces behind him, Gen watched in silence. Her ghostly form wavered between translucent and opaque, her eyes wide with disbelief and… something more fragile.

Hope.

"You sure about this?" She asked, her voice quiet, almost scared.

Ezra turned to her. "More than I've ever been sure of anything."

She gave a half-hearted chuckle, rubbing her arms even though the cold couldn't touch her. "You've got a lot to live up to, then."

Ezra knelt and began mapping the circle he needed to contain the energy onto the chamber floor. There was nothing more potent to hold vitality than blood. He used his own, Olivia's, and Red's blood. A trinity of power.

Life, death, and rebirth.

He painted the blood in concentric circles and channeled the weave through it, watching as the blood flared and locked into place with threads of light.

Above the center of the circle, he summoned forth Tom's body, preserved in stasis within his pocket dimension.

It hovered in the air like a puppet without strings, limbs limp, skin pale. His soul still hummed faintly within his body, ready to be used. His ability to control ghosts made him the perfect conduit for this.

Ezra reached out into the weave and gripped the core of it.

"Tom, your story ends here." He murmured, and with a flick of power, he extracted the soul from the body.

It writhed as it came free, screaming silently. Ezra shaped it not with cruelty, but with purpose.

He pulled away Tom's identity, his memories, his hatred, his will, scraping the soul down to a neutral vessel, a shell of resonance and spiritual form, ready to be repurposed.

Tom was gone.

What remained was blank.

Ezra then lowered this shell gently into the circle, letting the dense "meat" in the air, raw, formless vitality, fuse with it. The energy in the chamber thickened, growing sticky and hot.

From the weave, he pulled blueprints.

Gen's original body. Her muscle memory. Her blood's resonance.

He began the shaping.

First, bone, but not bone as the world knew it. These were latticeworks of crystallized vitality, humming with structure, drawn into place by his command. The body formed piece by piece, vertebrae clicking into alignment, ribs curving into form like a sculptor's slow chisel.

Next, muscle, spun from ambient vitality in the air, layered and reinforced by Gen's own spectral memory of movement. Tendons, sinews, and the delicate interweaving of her old strength.

Then, organs. Lungs that would never tire, a heart that worked in perfect rhythm with her soul, a brain attuned to her very vitality. Each conjured from a thread in the weave, each forged with meticulous intent.

Finally, skin. It grew like moss over stone, pale and soft, unblemished but radiant with subtle strength. Ezra let out a breath, sweat beading on his brow.

He turned toward Gen.

"It's time."

Gen drifted forward slowly, mouth slightly open.

"I—" She whispered as she looked down at the physical body that was a mirror of her spectral one, laying naked in the circle. "It really looks like me."

"It is you." Ezra said. "Every thread. Every layer. But it won't mean anything unless your soul takes root."

Gen nodded, trembling. "Okay. Do it."

Ezra's hands moved to the air above the vessel. He reached into the web of threads that was Gen, seizing her soul memory and threading them through the vessel.

Her laugh as they trained in First City. In Faewall.

Her boundless sarcasm.

The heat of her body when they were in each other's arms.

Her energy as she fought recklessly.

Each memory was a tether, and with each one, her essence was stitched into the form below. Her ghost flickered, dimmed, and began to sink into the vessel.

The lights in the chamber dimmed as the energy funneled inward.

Ezra's voice dropped to a whisper. "Come home."

The body began to glow.

The room's temperature dropped suddenly. The air pulled toward the circle like a vacuum. Vitality poured inward like a flood.

The body spasmed.

Then still.

And then—

Gen gasped.

A sharp, shuddering breath that cracked through the silence.

Her fingers twitched. Her chest rose. Her eyes fluttered, and then, opened.

Crimson. Alive. Real.

Ezra staggered back, clutching his chest as his own emotions surged.

Gen blinked several times, her pupils adjusting to the light.

"I…" She rasped, voice raw and hoarse. "I can feel everything."

Ezra fell to his knees beside her, reaching out but stopping short.

Gen looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers with a childlike awe. Her lips trembled, and tears welled in her eyes.

"I'm real." she whispered.

Ezra finally let himself touch her hand. "You were never anything less."

She sat up slowly, looking at him. Then, without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms.

"I'm here." She sobbed into his shoulder.

Ezra held her tight.

"Yes." He said, voice thick. "You're home."