The soft moonlight casted a gentle glow across the small, cluttered bedroom. The room was tattered with stuffed animals, worn storybooks, and the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. On the creaky wooden floor, a mother sat on the edge of a bed, her fingers deftly weaving through her son's curly hair.
"Hush now, my little one," she sang, her voice a soothing melody that seemed to cradle him in its embrace. "Close your eyes and drift away, to dreams where you can play."
The boy, nestled against her chest, blinked slowly, his eyelids heavy with sleep. His tiny fingers curled around hers, finding comfort in her touch. The lullaby flowed effortlessly, each note a testament to the bond they shared.
"Stars above and moon so bright, guide you through the peaceful night. Gentle winds and soft moonbeams, carry you into your sweetest dreams."
She brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, planting a tender kiss there. "No monsters here, my dear," she whispered, "Only love and safety."
The boy let out a contented sigh, his breathing evening out as sleep took hold. She continued singing, her words wrapping around him like a protective blanket. "Angels watch and guard your rest, keeping you forever blessed. In this room, you're safe and sound, where love and peace are always found."
As the final notes of the lullaby faded into the night, she leaned down to kiss his forehead one last time. "Goodnight, my sweet boy. Dream well."
The room settled into a deep silence, the only movement the gentle rise and fall of the boy's breathing. She stayed by his side a moment longer, and with a final glance around the room to ensure his safety, she stood and quietly made her way to the doorway.
–
The forest erupted into chaos. Roseiral darted between the trees, her movements moving faster than that of a cheetah. Arvo paused for a fraction of a second, stunned that she had acted so decisively. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he steeled himself and followed.
As Roseiral moved, her hand gripped PCC 565 tightly—a vial of ominous, iridescent liquid encased in a reinforced glass sphere. With no practice, she hurled it toward the monster. The sphere went through the air, catching the faint light of the moon before plunging toward its target.
The instant the object left her hand, Roseiral dropped low and slid behind a thick tree trunk, its rough bark pressing against her back. Her breathing steadied as she peeked around the edge, her keen eyes locked on the monster's reaction, surprised it actually hit.
"I guess Vero wasn't lying"
The effect was immediate.
The monster recoiled violently as soon as it caught sight of the strange object, its glowing eyes wide with unrelenting terror. Its massive limbs thrashed wildly, smashing into trees and the forest floor with enough force to send shockwaves through the ground.
It screeched—a high, guttural sound that echoed through the forest like a cry of anguish. With each panicked swing, trees splintered and toppled, creating an open clearing where the dense forest canopy had once shielded the moonlight.
Amidst its frenzy, the monster's claw collided with PCC 565, shattering the containment sphere. A dense mist erupted from the impact, the chemicals inside releasing a noxious cloud that spread rapidly. The monster inhaled it unwittingly, its erratic movements slowing for a moment before resuming with a new, unhinged vigor.
Its cry changed, becoming warped and almost childlike. "Why?" it bellowed, the word cracking under the strain of its distorted voice. "Why?"
The monster dropped to its knees, clawing at the ground as though trying to bury itself. Its massive body trembled, its earlier rage now replaced by paranoia. It turned its head in sharp, jerky motions, its gaze flickering between the forest shadows as if haunted by unseen phantoms.
From behind her cover, Roseiral's grip tightened around the hilt of her blade. She glanced at Arvo, who had crouched beside her.
"You know," Arvo whispered, his tone surprisingly light despite the tension in the air. "For someone who acts solo all the time, you're not bad at this. You haven't done anything wrong so far." He shot her a crooked smile. "Just… maybe communicate next time, yeah?"
Roseiral's eyes didn't leave the monster. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Do... do we need to kill the monster?"
Arvo said nothing. He didn't need to. The silence between them was enough. Roseiral didn't look at him; she already knew the answer.
The sounds of the monster's crying filled the air, its distorted voice cracking with raw emotion. It clawed at the earth, its massive frame trembling as though it could dig its way out of the reality it faced.
Roseiral exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable. She adjusted her grip on her blade, her knuckles whitening as her fingers tightened. The monster let out another agonized wail, raising its malformed arms toward the heavens.
"Why?" it cried. "Why do you hate me?"
The question struck her deeper than she anticipated. It clung to her thoughts, echoing with a weight she couldn't shake.
Roseiral clenched her jaw, forcing her mind to steady. Her steps were deliberate as she stood and moved from behind the tree.
"Wait," Arvo hissed from behind her, his voice laced with alarm. But she ignored him, her focus unshaken as she walked into the clearing.
The monster sensed her approach and shrank back, its massive frame curling in on itself as if trying to become smaller. Its eyes darted wildly, filled with a mixture of fear and despair.
Roseiral stopped a few paces away, her blade held loosely at her side. For a moment, she simply stared at the creature, her thoughts unreadable.
"Roseiral," Arvo called from behind her. "This thing—whatever it is—can't be saved. Don't let it fool you."
But she didn't move.
The monster whimpered, its voice now small and fragile. "I… I didn't mean to. I was just… scared."
Arvo appeared at her side, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "It's manipulating you. It's what they do."
She shook him off and took another step forward. The monster's massive hand twitched, but it made no move to attack. Its earlier rage had evaporated, leaving behind a creature that seemed broken.
"Do you remember your name?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The monster froze. Its eyes widened as though the question had unlocked something deep within it. Slowly, it shook its head.
"No," it murmured. "No… I don't."
Roseiral raised her blade.
The monster closed its eyes, its body shuddering as it prepared for the inevitable.
"Roseiral," Arvo said again, his voice firmer this time. "Don't hesitate."
For a brief moment, the clearing was silent, the world holding its breath. Then, with a swift motion, Roseiral brought her blade down.
The monster trembled, its voice cracking into a childlike whimper. "Mommy… please help me."
Hearing those words, Roseiral froze. Her breath hitched, and the blade stopped swinging entirely.
Memories of Godless surged forward, unbidden and vivid. She saw him as he had always been—a steady presence in her life. Brief moments of laughter and calmness flashed through her mind, anchoring her in a past she missed but could never return to. His faint smile and outstretched hand lingered in her thoughts like a lifeline.
Then, the monster's sobbing brought her back.
Her vision cleared, and she realized its sharp limb hovered dangerously close—just a centimeter from her eyes. Her breath caught as she stared at the glinting edge, her body refusing to move. The monster, trembling, strained to push forward but seemed stuck in its movements.
"Finally back to reality?" Arvo's voice cut through the tension.
Roseiral turned her gaze slightly. Arvo stood nearby, his twin blades drawn and held in a poised stance. The moonlight glinted off the steel, casting shadows across his face.
Without waiting, he moved. His body flowed effortlessly as he lunged, the blades slicing through the air in arcs too fast to follow. The monster screeched, its limbs falling apart with each strike.
Piece by piece, it collapsed, its body breaking into grotesque fragments. Its cries faded until all that remained was silence.
Arvo stood over the remains, his blades dripping. He turned to Roseiral, who hadn't moved from her spot. Her shoulders shook faintly, her knuckles white as they gripped her weapon.
"Now that it's dead…" he began, sliding his blades back into their sheaths. "That thing was a manipulation type. Weak physically but strong mentally. You froze, but that's normal."
Roseiral's gaze stayed on the remains, her silence unbroken.
Arvo sighed, his voice softening. "Today, you did well. Rest up. Hopefully, you learned from this." He glanced at the wreckage. "I'll handle the cleanup."
Without a word, Roseiral turned and walked away.