The house where Rasen hid was no refuge—it was a tomb. Light barely filtered through the wooden-slatted windows, and the candles cast shadows that seemed to move on their own across the faded walls. The air was thick with melted wax and dampness, intensifying the suffocating pressure Rasen felt. Every step echoed like a hammer blow in his skull. The world seemed to push him toward the abyss.
But Rasen was not alone. Sariel was there—not just as an echo in his mind, but a living, slithering, inescapable presence.
—"Don't you feel the weight in your legs, Rasen?" Sariel's voice slithered into his thoughts like venom. "It's my gift to you. A reminder of how much you need me."
Rasen dropped to his knees. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and his breath turned into ragged gasps. It wasn't just his body. It was his mind, breaking against an enemy that lived inside him.
—"Let me go…" he whispered, his voice raw, cracked from exhaustion.
—"Let yourself fall, Rasen," Sariel coaxed, mocking yet persuasive. "Why fight it? This is inevitable. You know it as well as I do."
—"You've become unbearable inside my head, you know that."
"Shh… Calm yourself. I can still taste the blood on your tongue. And you enjoyed it. We're not so different."
He closed his eyes, but in the darkness, something worse awaited. Not memories. Visions forced by Sariel: a forest soaked in blood, twisted creatures calling him "Father." Empty eyes, jagged claws, rotting flesh that chased him like starving phantoms.
—"Enough!" he roared, slamming his trembling fist against the wooden floor.
Sariel's laughter echoed through the room—sharp and cruel.
—"See it, Rasen? This is your future. Monsters born of your flesh, deformed and thirsty, screaming your name through the ruins of a world you'll destroy. My blood is their legacy."
"That's your inheritance, Rasen.Because you can't stop it.Because you're weak. Trapped in a past that never served you."
Rasen clenched his teeth, fury and fear twisting inside him.
—"I will not have children. That much I swear, Sariel. Your blood—my blood—will not see the light. Any descendants I have will never be born. I'll make sure of it."
—"So sure?" Sariel's voice turned smooth, nearly seductive. "Monsters don't choose to become fathers, Rasen. But fate has curious ways of playing with us. And if you refuse my bargain... maybe I'll seek something else. Something hidden in that subconscious of yours. Maybe… a woman. One you love madly."
The name Aisha slammed into his chest like a fist. His heart froze. His pale face tightened in agony. The image of her in Sariel's hands made him shudder, gasp. No. He couldn't allow it.
Fear paralyzed him. But denial came too.
—"No… I don't love anyone."
—"Oh, but that's for you to decide," Sariel cooed, satisfaction dripping from every word. "Make the deal, Rasen, and I'll have no reason to look elsewhere."
Rasen closed his eyes. The weight of the decision crushed him. He couldn't trust Sariel—but he couldn't risk Aisha either.
Finally, he whispered: —"It would take something extreme for me to accept… But you won't touch anyone. Just give me back the freedom to move—by my own will."
A mere flicker of power from Sariel, and Rasen—still not in control of his body—twisted in agony as if his intestines were being sliced. His abdomen tore open.
—"You decide... free yourself from this pain, protect them by using my gift, or die trying, Rasen."
Blood soaked his clothes, yet he calmed his breathing. His black eyes faded back to normal.
—"Let's bet on this, then. If you ever father a son—your firstborn—you'll give him to me. I'll free you... if it happens. If not, I'll simply adapt to you."
—"That will never happen. But if it does… then I'll offer the sacrifice, for my freedom."
Silence fell over the room, broken only by the flicker of candle flames. The pressure in his mind vanished in a snap, and air rushed into Rasen's lungs. But relief was a fleeting illusion. He had sealed his fate with a promise he should never have made.
Hours later, while the candlelight held back the dark...
Knock, knock.
—"Come in?" Rasen's voice was hoarse, weighed down with exhaustion and surrender.
The door creaked open. Lionel stepped inside. His presence didn't belong in such a dismal place—but his expression burned with purpose.
—"You again," Rasen growled, lighting a lamp. The faint glow revealed his gaunt face. "What brings you here, Lionel?"
Lionel approached slowly, concern in every glance.
—"Darian continues to protect us. Especially Cristal. He's honoring your promise. He even supplies me with blood—the finest quality, just as you arranged. But you can't stay locked in here, Rasen. You have a purpose. One far greater than this room."
Rasen clicked his tongue and dug his hands into the table, fingers curling into the wood as if to unload all his rage there.
—"Easy for you to say, Lionel. You don't have a voice clawing at your mind, reminding you how weak you are, demanding more than you can give."
Lionel frowned, but kept his tone calm. He stepped closer and extended a hand.
—"No matter how much you try to deny what you carry inside, I'll still be here. You're not alone."
Sariel's laughter crackled in Rasen's skull, sharp and mocking. "Not alone, he says. How touching. But we both know the truth… don't we, Rasen?"
Rasen raised his gaze. His eyes were veiled with despair.
—"Do whatever it takes for Cristal. Protect her... from me. And never—ever—tell her where I am. If I lose control, Sariel…"
Lionel swallowed hard. —"Understood. I'll be your eyes. Your ears. But Rasen—the twins…"
—"Don't speak of them." His voice dropped like a verdict, heavy and final. "If I see them… I don't know if I'll be able to get rid of them."
Silence settled like a shroud. The only sound: the hiss of burning wax.
Lionel clenched his fists and nodded. He knew better than to push further.
—"If that's your will, I'll respect it. But don't forget—I'm still here."
When Lionel left, Rasen was once again swallowed by shadows. His thoughts coiled like snakes in his skull. Fate had trapped him, and there was no way out.
Meanwhile, far away, Cristal wove life within her womb—unaware of the silent pact that would seal all their fates.
The world tilted. And the ending—like a starving wolf—was already catching the scent.
And he... was still just a lamb with fangs.