District 6. One week ago…
——
It was the kind of afternoon that made the whole world feel gentle.
Sunlight spilled through the trees in golden threads. Children shrieked and laughed across the wide, grassy field, chasing bubbles, playing tag, launching drones into the sky. Someone strummed a guitar beneath a flowering oak while the air smelled of caramel popcorn and sun-warmed bark.
Beneath the shade of a tree, Rhesa sat on a checkered picnic blanket, still as a sculpture, dressed in a flowing blue dress. A wide straw hat shaded her warm, golden-brown skin. Her posture was regal, though her forehead itched like crazy.
'Just a second,' she thought, already twitching her fingers.
But then Anya, who sat on the grass across from her immediately warned, "Mom, don't!"
Rhesa sighed and let her hand fall. "How did you know?"
"You always look guilty right before you move," Anya muttered, her eyes still fixed on the small canvas in front of her. "And you always move when I'm halfway through the nose."
"Well, it's a very itchy nose. It might be an emergency," Rhesa said with a grin.
"No moving!" Anya ordered. "Just one more minute."
Rhesa bit her lip, fighting a laugh because her daughter always looked so serious when she painted with her brows furrowed, her tongue poking slightly out, and her little fingers streaked with green and blue. She composed herself back into her still position as Anya continued painting.
A moment later, Anya groaned. "Mooom, you ruined the face." She tilted her head, studying the painting, then her voice softened. "...Okay, done."
She stood, brushing grass from her knees, and handed over the painting.
Rhesa studied it. The piece was wonderfully chaotic: the eyes were too large, the proportions skewed, and her hat somehow floated above her head, but there was warmth in every stroke.
"It's beautiful," Rhesa said with a smile. "You made me look taller and scarier than I actually am."
Anya giggled. "You already look scary. I made you look cool."
Rhesa chuckled then pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love it."
Moments like this were really treasured by Rhesa because there had been a time, only a year ago, when Anya hadn't spoken a single word due to her selective mutism. But now, every sentence she uttered felt like a gift.
When Anya pulled free from her embrace, she asked, "When will Dad and Ren be back?"
Rhesa brushed a strand of dark hair from Anya's eyes. "Soon, they're not far."
At that moment, footsteps crunched across the grass.
"Ladies," Simon called, lifting a pastry box. "Miss us?"
He wore a loose white shirt and black slacks with his sleeves rolled up, his smile carrying just a hint of smugness. Ren followed close behind, balancing drinks, his hair damp at the edges, hoodie sleeves shoved to his elbows.
Upon seeing them, Anya sprinted to Simon.
"Dad! You took forever!" She whined as she latched onto his side.
"Sorry… they had a line out the door at Sugar and Whisk," Simon said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head. "But we got your favorite… triple raspberry dream."
Ren, who stood beside them lifted the cups and asked in a mock-offended tone. "And we got stuck with boring tea?"
Simon looked to him and shrugged. "It's detox. And… it's your mom's idea, not mine. You know she keeps forcing us on her 'cleanse the soul through tea' routines."
Rhesa stood, brushing grass from her dress. "Oh please… you boys do like drinking a lot of sugar. Someone has to save this family past fifty. You're welcome, by the way."
Simon grinned and leaned in to kiss her, then took one of the cups from Ren and handed it to her. "Detox pistachio ginger… disgusting and overpriced. Just how you like it."
Rhesa chuckled as she accepted the drink.
The family settled again around the blanket. Then Anya tugged Ren down beside her, eager to show off the painting. Ren squinted, tilting his head as he studied it. "…Is that Mom?"
Anya nodded proudly.
He snorted. "Why does she look like a crochet plushie made by someone who hated yarn?"
Anya's smile dropped, then she launched herself at him with a series of tiny, indignant smacks.
"Okay! Okay!" Ren laughed, shielding himself as she swatted at him with both hands. "I'm sorry! I just… her face is all wrong, the hat's already flying away, and her eyes… why are they so wide? Was she possessed while you were painting?"
Anya pouted and muttered, almost too low to hear, "She moved. I kept telling her not to move." Then she rolled her eyes and leaned against him.
Rhesa, watching from across the blanket, tried to hold back her laugh and failed. "I didn't move, honey." She brushed a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear and smiled. "And Ren, go easy on your sister. I think she did a wonderful job."
Ren scoffed and took a slow sip of his tea, trying to hide his smirk as Anya stuck out her tongue in mockery, earning a brief, amused glance from him.
Then… right at that moment, a familiar scent stung his nose, causing him to frown. He sniffed in the air a few times and wrinkled his nose.
'Blood… it smells like blood.' he thought as he turned, searching for the source of the scent, until his gaze locked on a figure walking toward them across the street.
The figure was pale-skinned and slender, wearing a crimson coat that trailed along the ground. His long dark hair fell over his shoulders, his blue eyes were unreadable, and the aura around him was suffocating.
Ren's body tensed. For some reason, the moment he locked eyes with the man, he could feel an instinctive dread so primal that it caused him to tremble. Every instinct kept screaming at him that if he did not run, he was going to die in the most harrowing manner.
'Who is this… creepy-looking dude? And why does it feel like the air's crushing me the closer he gets?'
Ren looked down at his sister and saw that she had not noticed anything strange. His gaze moved to his dad, who was still unpacking slices of cake, and his frown deepened. His father, too, seemed oblivious to the creepy man.
However, when his gaze landed on his mom, he saw her frown and grit her teeth, her eyes locked on the approaching figure.
"Anele," Rhesa whispered in a tight voice upon recognizing the man.
Simon turned to her, blinking in confusion. "What?" He felt her body tense and instinctively edged closer. "Hon…?"
"Get behind me," Rhesa ordered sharply, her voice laced with urgency as she rose quickly, guiding Anya behind her with one hand, her gaze still fixed on the figure across the street. "Simon, take them and step back. Now!"
Simon's lips parted and his brows furrowed as his confusion deepened. "Rhesa…" he began, his voice faltering.
But then Rhesa yelled, cutting him off. "Simon, now!"
The figure crossed the grass slowly and a dozen families were already packing up, drawn away by some instinct they did not understand.
He stopped a few meters from them, his shadow stretching long across the grass. Then his lips curled into a grin, and when he spoke, his voice carried a chill that seemed to sink beneath the skin. "Ah… so this is where you've been hiding, Rhesa. Kyrios of the Iron Will."
"What the hell is going on?" Simon whispered.
But Rhesa didn't answer, her eyes remained fixed on the man. Then she asked in a stern voice. "What are you doing here, Anele? You know this district is mine."
"No warm welcome?" Anele retorted, spreading his arms like someone seeing an old friend after a long time. "Tsk. I expected more from you. After all, it's been years, you know?"
Rhesa scoffed and said coldly. "You're trespassing. There was no prior declaration of intent. You know the rules. The Kyrios don't step into another's domain without one. So tell me, Anele… what brings you here uninvited?"
A wide, unnatural grin spread across Anele's face. He took a step closer, and the air seemed to thicken around them. "You missed the last Dominion Council, and the few before that. Come now, Rhesa. That's not just rude," his grin widened. "It's treason."
Rhesa didn't respond and her expression remained unreadable.
Anele continued, his voice casual, almost taunting. "You ignore our summons. You no longer show up to the Council of Kyrios. Why?" He gestured lazily at the picnic and the family behind her. "Because you've gone soft?" he lifted two fingers into mocking quotation marks. "Built yourself an ideal family? A pretend little world?"
"Speak your purpose or leave. You won't get a second warning." Rhesa warned, her voice laced with irritation.
Anele's smile vanished, and an expression of disgust settled over his face. "Fine, fine… I came here to kill you!"
The words struck like thunder, loud and utterly sincere.
Upon hearing that, Ren panicked.
'K—kill mom… what the… what the hell's going on?' He looked at his hands and noticed they were trembling, and placed one hand over the other, trying to steady them.
Across, Anele continued the exchange with his mother, his voice now dead and toneless. "You're either with us, or you're in the ground. And you've chosen wrong."
Rhesa glanced over her shoulder: first at Anya, trembling but silent, then at Simon, who gripped her daughter's hand, and finally at Ren, whose eyes burned with questions he was too young to voice. She turned back to Anele then said in a somber voice. "Let's not do this here. There are civilians everywhere: families, children, humans with no means to protect themselves. If we fight, this district won't survive it. You know that."
Anele's expression shifted, like someone who'd just tasted something foul. "Civilians? Humans?"
He laughed loudly, then dragged a hand across his pale face, fingers threading back through his hair with mockery in every movement.
"Are you kidding me, Rhesa?!" He jabbed a finger at some of the onlookers who had paused to watch. "Do I look like someone who gives a damn about these lowly creatures?"
Rhesa let out a weary sigh, realizing that there was no talking her way out of this situation and that a fight was inevitable.
She was powerful, one of the strongest Kyrios alive. In fact, there were only a few in the world who could rival her. But Anele… Anele wasn't just strong, he was wrong. Twisted by a power that thrived on violence, that grew stronger with every scream and every drop of blood spilled; to call him an abomination would almost be an understatement.
She watched as he slowly drew what looked like a blade made of bone from inside his coat.
Then his expression darkened. "Tsk. I really liked this coat. Maybe I should've worn something sleeveless today… but alas."
He sighed. Then, without hesitation, he plunged the blade into his own shoulder.
Simon flinched. "What are you…?"
But Anya screamed in a voice that was sharp and full of terror. Simon reacted instantly, pulling her close and shielding her eyes.
Meanwhile, Ren stumbled back a step, gasping, eyes wide with horror.
But Anele smiled.
With eerie calm, he dragged the blade slowly from his shoulder down to his wrist, then pulled it free.
Blood gushed from the grotesque wound, but then something unnatural happened. Instead of spilling to the floor, it began to float upwards, merging and converging until a large sphere of pulsing blood hovered in front of Anele.
Then it began to bulge, swelling outward, expanding until it was the size of a car… then larger. And it kept growing.
Anele then brought two fingers to his lips and whispered in a chilling voice, "Throne of the Bleeding Sky."
Instantly, dozens of tendrils shot out from the massive sphere above, stretching in every direction like veins bursting from an artery, slamming into the grass and slicing through the air.
Then his eyes rolled back, and the orb began to rise, swelling higher and higher until its sheer mass was vast enough to blot out the sun, drowning the entire district in a dark crimson glow.
Everyone around began fleeing the park as fast as they could, some screaming for help, others calling desperately for their families.
Rhesa clenched her fists and looked at her frightened family one last time, and for the first time in a long while, she felt fear, not for herself, but for them.