The earth was cracked.
The shadows torn.
And the boy with the mask knelt, clutching his stomach, from which black steam was rising — the breath of death.
Kael walked slowly toward him.
Each step — a heartbeat growing fainter.
Each breath — more smoke than air.
"He's ours. We can break him, mold him into a living puppet."
Seraphine laughed, but her laughter was beginning to splinter.
"Kael… do you want power? Then open it. Open it. GIVE ME THE WORLD INSIDE."
Kael felt a sharp pain in his chest.
Not physical.
It was as if someone was bleeding his soul, drop by drop.
Seraphine was feeding too deeply.
From his chest, black blood burst forth.
Not the blood of the body. But of the covenant.
The girl in the wedding dress screamed.
— "IT'S NOT NORMAL! HIS ENTITY… IT'S TOO OLD!"
She lunged at him, trying to drive a bone blade into his throat.
But before she could reach him… Kael looked at her.
That was all.
Just a look.
And Seraphine emerged from him like a massive serpent, with the face of a woman with no eyes and a smile far too wide.
She grabbed the girl with one dark hand.
And crushed her.
Like a clay doll soaked in water.
The old man tried to run.
He failed.
Kael raised his palm, and the shadow of the flayed child grabbed the man's legs.
Dragged him into the cracked earth.
And the old man screamed until his flesh melted into the soil.
Only the boy with the mask remained.
On his knees. Silent. Trembling.
Kael raised his hand.
But Seraphine coiled around his body, emerging through his back, his throat, his eyes.
"GIVE ME EVERYTHING. GIVE ME EVERYTHING. GIVE ME EVERYTHING."
Kael dropped to his knees.
He began to tremble.
It was too much.
"NO! YOU ARE MINE!"
Seraphine screamed from every gate of the world.
With the last spark of consciousness, Kael drove his nail deep into his chest.
Pain.
Reality.
"SHUT… UP."
Seraphine thrashed. Screamed. Reached toward the sky.
Then… fell.
Like a puppet with its strings cut.
Back into shadow.
Kael collapsed.
Blood ran down his face.
He trembled. He was no longer human. But not yet a monster.
The boy with the mask looked at him.
Empty eyes.
Then bowed before him.
Like a slave.
— "You are… the beginning."
Three bodies.
One crushed.
One melted.
One kneeling, soulless. Still alive. Still breathing.
Kael stood motionless.
The shadows around him no longer danced. They gathered, swirling slowly, almost protectively, like black hounds circling their wounded master.
A sickly-sweet smell of burnt flesh hung in the air.
The ground moaned beneath the weight of sin.
Kael looked up.
His eyes… were no longer the same.
His pupils were dark, streaked with violet that bled to the corners of his eyes like cracks in a mirror.
— "Why… why don't I feel guilty?"
His voice was low, hollow, as if echoing from a deep cave.
He looked at his hands. Still smoking. Still vibrating with the energy of a power that had torn him apart from within.
"Did you feel guilty when they beat you?"
Seraphine's voice was no longer hysterical. It was calm. Cold. Almost… gentle.
"When they tied you to the radiator and laughed as you cried with broken teeth?"
Kael closed his eyes. The images came unbidden.
The soldier. His smile.
The snap of a leather belt on wet skin.
Children's laughter.
His mother's gaze, not protecting him. Couldn't.
He opened his eyes.
And the masked boy's face was in front of his.
His gaze was… empty. Submissive. Broken.
Kael raised a hand.
His fingers trembled, as if bound by invisible strings.
— "Why don't you run? Why don't you scream? What are you?"
The boy said nothing.
He removed the mask.
Underneath… was no face.
Just a smooth stretch of flesh, like a doll forgotten by God.
Kael pulled back, but something in him felt no fear.
He felt curiosity.
Fascination.
Power.
"He's not human. He's yours. Cradle him. Use him. Build your army, Kael."
— "Silence."
His voice cut the air like a blade.
"Hm…" Seraphine whispered, smiling somewhere behind his nerves. "You're starting to sound like me."
Kael clenched his fingers.
The ground beneath the masked boy slowly opened.
A bed of shadows, like arms, lifted him… and absorbed him into the black earth.
Kael didn't know what he had done.
But he felt it.
He had called him. Integrated him. Possessed him.
And he wasn't the only one.
From the corners of the forest, ancient shadows emerged, drawn to the new King.
With horns, with bones, with stifled howls and footsteps made of soot.
Kael rose.
His gaze was cold, glinting faintly in the night.
No one was laughing now.
No one was beating him.
No one was tying him to the radiator.
Now… he was the binding.
Final scene — Kael walks among the twisted corpses, leaving a trail of black smoke behind.
On his skin, red runes appear like cuts that close on their own.
Each rune — a soul absorbed. An unspoken vow.
And in the back of his mind, Seraphine, now silent, smiles.