Sons of a devil

Morning came with a sky streaked in pale gold, but peace was far from the hearts of the group. The wreckage of the night before lay scattered—burned beams, shattered windows, the ground still trembling faintly from the lingering pulse of unleashed magic.

Eira remained unconscious, lying under layers of protective sigils cast by Amara and Leo. Her breathing was shallow, her body pale, but she was no longer under the entity's control. That much they hoped.

Cain sat at her side, staring at her face with guilt carved into every line of his expression.

"She was trying to kill us," Eren said behind him, his voice tight. "But... she didn't. Not really. She could've. She hesitated."

"She fought it," Selene added softly. "I saw it in her eyes."

The group sat around the smoldering remains of the cabin, huddled in silence. None of them had slept.

Amara leaned against a tree, arms folded. "Whatever controlled her, it knew us. It used her memories. It turned her into a weapon specifically made to break you."

"It almost worked," Leo muttered, rubbing a gash on his arm.

"She was like our sister..." Eren said quietly. "Now what is she?"

Cain stood slowly. "She's still her. She just... needs to remember."

Selene walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll help her. Together."