Let’s Chat! Rain doesn’t rage here—it remembers. We open DRAC with a cold open that threads a storm-soaked childhood to a glass-walled lab where blood refuses to obey. Dante Roman Orellan Creed carries a mark from a dream he can’t explain and a gift he never asked for. As numbers start repeating and grief reshapes his days, the line between creator and creation blurs: self‑resurrection models mirror old sigils, machines hum like a second heartbeat, and light begins to bow instead of blind. W...