POV: ???
I stared up at the being before me and couldn't help but gulp audibly. Up close, he was enormous — towering above me like a god peering down at an insect. The sheer pressure of his presence made my knees tremble.
I tried to steady myself, forcing my eyes upward — anywhere but his. Those eyes burned like twin suns, searing, unyielding, terrifying.
Then, after what felt like an eternity but could only have been seconds, he spoke — and his words shook something deep inside me.
"You have her eyes…"
His tone carried a faint sadness, a kind of distant ache. Her eyes?My heart stopped. He meant… my mother?How could he know that—?Unless… no. No way.
Could this man be—my father?
I looked up again, meeting his gaze directly for the first time. For an instant, the fire in those golden eyes softened — grief flickering through them. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by raw, violent anger.
He turned sharply. A surge of aura exploded outward, shaking the entire building. The floorboards cracked beneath our feet, and the very air seemed to ripple.
"WHO DARED LAY A FINGER ON MY DAUGHTER?!"
His voice was thunder. The walls splintered, windows shattered, and the crowd outside screamed and fled. Yet, somehow, I was untouched — wrapped in a soft, golden glow. Magic. A shield. He's protecting me.
I barely had time to process it before the head of this hellhole and his "carers" collapsed to the ground, howling as they begged for mercy. Their cries only made him colder.
"Forget it," he said — his voice now quiet, almost too calm. "You're all guilty."
The air thickened. I watched as their bodies twisted under invisible weight — bones snapping, organs bursting. Their screams filled the room before fading into wet silence.
Blood. Flesh. Bone. Everywhere.
It was horrifying, yes — but not to me. I wasn't afraid. Not after what they'd done. Not after what I'd endured.For the first time in my life, I felt something close to peace. Justice, maybe.
When it was over, the room was a ruin. The other children had fled. Only I and… my father remained.
He turned toward me slowly, dismissing the golden shield. Then, to my surprise, he knelt — lowering himself until his eyes met mine. Gently, he brushed a strand of filthy hair from my face.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For what you've been through. I didn't know you existed until just moments ago, when I sensed the blood resonance."
There was sadness there — a shadow of guilt — and maybe something more. Then he added, quietly, "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
But I barely heard the last part. The emotions I'd buried — fear, loneliness, grief — all broke free at once.
"Father!" I cried, tears blurring my vision. "Please… never leave me. Please, just love me."
I threw myself into his chest. For a moment he froze, as if unsure what to do — then his arms wrapped around me, warm and steady.
"You will never be alone again," he whispered. "That I promise you."
And in his arms, I finally let go — crying until exhaustion claimed me, and the world faded to black.
POV: Kyros
She fell asleep in my arms — small, fragile, weightless.
It's strange. I haven't felt this in… decades, maybe. A warmth I thought long gone. And yet, holding her, it's back — uninvited, inconvenient, but undeniably real.
So I have a daughter. Fate has a cruel sense of humor.
I am no role model. No father figure. She probably knew that — which is why she never told me. Sigh. That was the first time I've truly lost my temper in years.
I look down at the sleeping child. She's filthy, bruised, broken — and yet, somehow, beautiful. A spark of her mother in every feature.
"What are you doing to me, little one?" I whisper with a quiet laugh.
I shift her gently in my arms. She's so small, I'm afraid I might crush her if I'm not careful. For the first time in a long while, I want to protect something — someone. I want to try. Maybe I even want to change.
Power was never enough. Maybe… she will be.
I sigh again, shaking my head. Fate truly enjoys irony.
I glance at her face one more time, peaceful now in sleep. "I don't even know your name," I murmur. "I'll ask when you wake."
Then I raise my free hand. Reality cracks like glass — light spilling through the fractures — and in a flash, we are gone.