Sons of a devil

The forest was silent. Not the comforting kind of quiet, but a hollow, unnatural stillness that pressed against their ears and souls. No birds. No wind. No rustling leaves. Just breath, heartbeats, and the soft hum of energy too ancient to name.

Cain led the way, sword strapped to his back, eyes burning bright with a mix of fury and resolve. Beside him, Selene moved in step, her powers humming beneath her skin. Eren and Leo followed close behind, watching every shadow like it might bite. Their mother, Queen Neriah, stood at the edge of the clearing, her cloak billowing around her as if guided by a will of its own.

And then the mist came.

Thick. Heavy. Like it remembered every secret and sin ever committed on the soil of Eldros.

They stepped into it without hesitation.

Each step into the veil was like walking into a memory—only, the memory wasn't theirs. Whispered voices curled through the fog. Laughter that didn't belong to them. Screams that weren't from their time.

Selene stumbled and grabbed Cain's arm.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Cain nodded. "They want us to lose ourselves."

Then the mist shifted, parting like curtains before a stage, and a figure emerged.

A young boy, maybe ten, stood barefoot in the grass. His eyes were too dark. Too still.