Directly after the battle of Towny.
Midnight has passed, leaving the moon crooked in the sky. Dracombat sits in front of a broken statue, the grounds littered with the corpses of asylumers and dummies alike. It's practically a graveyard.
The Count grinds his teeth in contained frustration. Every survivor had already gone back to base. This included only one of his vampire dummies. A single asylumer with a bobm was all it took. He told them it wasn't safe to group up, but they hadn't listened. Maybe he was too soft with them. Maybe he got far too close.
No. He hadn't gotten too close. The asylumers had gone too far. He'll be sure they won't get anywhere next time.
He scatters away in a cloud of bats, leaving behind a marker on the toppled statue.
For the future of the uncertified, not a single asylumer can be spared. Not after zhiz.