Sons of a devil

The Eye pulsed like a second heart in the hollow cathedral, every thrum vibrating through the cracked stone floor and the brothers' bones. Cain stood at the front, blade burning in his hand, its flames whispering old names and lost wars. His brothers flanked him, bruised but defiant. They didn't need to speak. They never did when it mattered.

Selene's wings unfurled, long and sharp like blades of twilight. Her presence alone warped the air, like reality was struggling to hold its shape around her. "Three sons," she said quietly, "yet not one of you has inherited his mind."

Lucien chuckled bitterly. "Why would we want the brain of a tyrant who burned half the world to prove a point?"

Ayden flexed his fingers, smoke rising from his bruised knuckles. "Talk later. Fight now."

"No," Cain said suddenly, holding out a hand. "We're not ready. Not yet."

That made both his brothers freeze. Cain never backed down. Not from a fight like this.

Selene tilted her head. "Wise. He's learning."

Cain stared at her, his eyes glowing faintly red. "Tell me what you know about the Eye. About him. The truth, not the riddles."

There was a pause. And then, to everyone's shock, Selene sat down on the ruined cathedral steps, wings folding in. "You want the truth? Fine. But once I speak it, your path will be sealed."

The brothers exchanged glances. Cain nodded once. "Do it."

Selene exhaled slowly, eyes turning to the Eye, still glowing faintly on the altar like a dying star.