After a couple months, Ere'ana lay in the bed of Hell's royal infirmary, her breathing labored, her normally graceful demeanor replaced by sheer exhaustion and pain. Sweat glistened on her forehead as she gripped the sides of the bed, her angelic features contorted in the agony of labor. Kikidori stood by her side, holding her hand—though he was clearly regretting that decision as her grip nearly crushed his fingers.
"Fuck, Ere'ana, you're strong as hell," Kikidori muttered through gritted teeth, wincing. "You could break a demon's skull with that grip."
Ere'ana shot him a glare, her eyes blazing with angelic fury. "Shut up, Kikidori, or so help me, I will *actually* break something of yours."
He wisely kept his mouth shut after that.
The imp doctor shuffled around the room, occasionally glancing over at Ere'ana in a way that made Kikidori's eyes narrow dangerously. This particular doctor—short, green-skinned, and perpetually lecherous—had been the only one available. Kikidori had insisted on a different one, but Ere'ana, in the throes of labor, had yelled, "I DON'T CARE WHO DOES IT, JUST GET THIS BABY OUT!"
Now, after what felt like an eternity of screaming, pushing, and one very awkward moment where Kikidori nearly passed out, the room was filled with the unmistakable sound of a baby's first cry.
The imp doctor held the tiny newborn up, his wide yellow eyes peering at the child. "Well, well, what do we have here? It's a boy! And a damn cute one, too!"
Kikidori leaned in, his crimson eyes scanning the baby's features. "He's got my good looks, obviously," he said smugly.
Ere'ana, still catching her breath, managed to glare at him. "He has *our* good looks. Don't make this all about you."
The imp carefully cleaned the baby and wrapped him in a soft, dark cloth before handing him to Ere'ana. "Here you go, your Majesty. Oh, and check this out—it's not just any baby."
As Ere'ana took her son into her arms, her breath caught. His tiny face was perfect, a blend of angelic grace and demonic sharpness, with soft tufts of dark and light hair. But it was his wings that drew their attention—on his right side, a pristine white wing shimmered with divine light, while on his left, a dark, leathery wing spread out, edged with faint shadows.
Kikidori's eyes widened as he leaned in closer. "Holy shit," he muttered. "His wings are split."
"And look at his halo," Ere'ana whispered, her voice filled with awe.
Hovering above the baby's head were two halos—one golden and glowing, but incomplete, as if a chunk had been broken off, and the other dark and shadowy, with an equally missing piece. Together, they formed a strange, imperfect balance.
The imp doctor whistled. "You've got yourselves a Nephilim, folks. Half angel, half demon. Pretty damn rare, if I do say so myself."
Ere'ana stared down at her son, tears welling up in her eyes. "He's perfect," she whispered.
Kikidori smirked, crossing his arms. "Of course he's perfect. He's my kid."
The imp rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, big guy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be billing you a hell of a lot for this. Literally."
After a few days of recovery, Ere'ana and Kikidori brought the baby home to the castle. The grand halls, usually filled with a chaotic mix of demons and servants, seemed oddly calm as the new addition was carried in. Ere'ana placed him gently in his crib, her angelic smile glowing brighter than ever.
"He's going to be a handful, isn't he?" she said softly, stroking the baby's cheek.
Kikidori leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Oh, yeah. He's got trouble written all over him. Look at those wings—he's already breaking the rules just by existing."
The baby, as if on cue, began to cry—a sharp, piercing wail that echoed through the castle.
"Shit," Kikidori muttered, covering his ears. "He's got some lungs on him."
Ere'ana sighed, lifting the baby from the crib and cradling him in her arms. "He's just hungry. Or tired. Or maybe he just wants attention."
"Or," Kikidori said, his tone dry, "he's already planning how to take over Hell and Heaven at the same time."
As Ere'ana soothed the baby, the crying gradually subsided. Kikidori watched from the side, his expression uncharacteristically soft. "What are we going to name him?" he asked after a moment.
Ere'ana thought for a moment before smiling. "How about Kael? It means 'mighty warrior.'"
Kikidori raised an eyebrow. "Kael, huh? Alright, I can live with that. Sounds badass."
The baby—Kael—let out a tiny coo, his mismatched wings fluttering slightly.
Later that night, as the family settled down for dinner, the peace was short-lived.
Kael's cries pierced through the silence, loud and insistent. Ere'ana sighed, setting down her fork.
"I'll check on him," she said, already standing.
Kikidori waved her off. "No, I've got it. You relax."
He made his way to the crib, peering down at the tiny, wailing baby. "Alright, kid, what's the problem? Hungry? Lonely? Or did you—" He stopped mid-sentence, his nose wrinkling. "Oh, hell no. You did not."
The smell confirmed it.
"Ere'ana!" Kikidori called out, backing away from the crib. "He shit his diaper! You're cleaning it!"
Ere'ana appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression unimpressed. "You said you'd take care of him."
Kikidori groaned, throwing his head back. "Yeah, but this—this is some next-level demon shit. Literally!"
Yumi walked by, peeking into the nursery. She burst out laughing. "Dad, you're such a wimp. Just clean the diaper!"
"Shut it, Yumi!" Kikidori shot back, glaring at his daughter.
Ere'ana sighed, stepping in to handle the situation. "Honestly, you've fought gods and death itself, but a dirty diaper has you running for the hills."
"Exactly," Kikidori muttered. "I don't do diapers. That's where I draw the line."
As Ere'ana cleaned Kael up, Kikidori leaned against the wall, watching with a mix of awe and relief. Despite the chaos, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride.
This was his family.
The End of Chapter 14