[Before you continue, I want to say this — I'm sorry.What you're about to read isn't easy. It wasn't for me when I wrote it either.Some scenes will hurt, not because they're meant to shock, but because they had to happen.This is where the story crosses the line between light and shadow — where "Born From Nothingness" truly begins.Read it when your heart is steady.]
As Pierce and his team fought inside the castle, the sound of gunfire traveled through the halls and reached the throne chamber. It was faint, but Angelo heard it.
His mind raced.
Gunshots?
Who's fighting?
Are they here for me? Why—
Then, silence.
Not the calm kind. The kind that comes after something has already ended.
The throne chamber doors creaked open.
The Duskbornes dragged three bloodied bodies across the floor and dropped them at Angelo's feet.
Vaelgor leaned forward on his throne, his voice calm and cruel.
"Do you know them?"
Chains rattled as Angelo strained forward. His gaze moved over the bloodied soldiers—two unfamiliar faces.
The third made his breath catch.
"… General Pierce?" he whispered.
Vaelgor caught the flicker of recognition in Angelo's eyes and grinned.
"Ah. I see you do."
Vaelgor turned his head slightly. "Kill them," he said. Then smiled. "Slowly."
The Cradle-Eaters advanced—bone-plated bodies slithering forward, half-human, half-serpent. Jagged weapons caught the dim light as they closed in.
Angelo thrashed against the chains.
"Please! Don't! I'll do anything—just don't kill them!"
Laughter echoed through the chamber, monstrous and cold.
Even Serika chuckled.
The three soldiers met Angelo's gaze.
General Nathaniel Pierce forced a crooked smile through the blood on his face.
"Well," he muttered, voice rough. "We really screwed this up, men. We came to rescue him… and now we're the ones going down first."
He looked at Angelo, regret heavy in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, kid. I led them all to their deaths."
Specialist Nadia Faye, pale and barely conscious, gave a weak nod. Each breath was a struggle.
"It was… an honor," she gasped. "Fighting alongside you, General."
Staff Sergeant Jonah Keene already knew what was about to happen. He looked directly at Angelo.
"Kid," he said firmly. "Close your eyes. You don't want to see what's coming."
Angelo shook his head violently. His voice broke.
"No! It's my fault! Hale… Ryan… now you too—everyone around me dies! I'm cursed!"
"Bullshit!" Pierce barked.
"You saved lives—hundreds of them! The Watchers, the Angels—you defeated them. Those people in Fort Blackspear escaped because of you. You're the reason they're safe."
He leaned forward, forcing the words out.
"You have to survive. Your family is waiting for you—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
The chamber doors creaked open.
The Hollowed Saints returned—Shrikecoil, Mireglass, Thornmarch, and Sariel.
In their grasp were Olivia, James, Alex, Emma, and Sophia.
Shackled and terrified, they were dragged into the room like offerings.
Emma clung to her father, her face buried in his chest, her small voice crying softly.
Serika's smile widened.
"The main guests have arrived. Now we can start the show."
Pierce's eyes widened, his voice shaking.
"What…? Why are they here? What happened to the convoy? To the guards?"
The Cradle-Eater standing behind him growled,
"You talk too much."
Without warning, it swung its weapon and sliced off Pierce's lower jaw.
He collapsed, screaming in agony, blood pouring from his mouth.
"NOOO!" Angelo shouted, eyes wide with horror.
Olivia screamed.
James held Emma tightly, shielding her eyes.
Alex froze, trembling.
Sophia stood in front of them, trying to remain composed—but her body shook uncontrollably.
Emma covered her ears and screamed in terror.
The room filled with the laughter of monsters.
Then—
"Did I tell you to start?"
Vaelgor's voice thundered through the hall.
The Cradle-Eater recoiled instantly, slithering back.
"F-Forgive me, my lord!"
Vaelgor raised his right arm toward the creature.
It begged for mercy.
It was pointless.
A ball of murky red flame formed in front of Vaelgor's open palm and shot toward the Cradle-Eater. It tried to run, but the flame followed, consuming it.
It screeched in agony until it died and turned to dust.
Vaelgor lowered his hand and clicked his tongue.
"Tch. Had to ruin the moment."
The remaining creatures said nothing.
They were scared.
Angelo and the others could only watch as Vaelgor killed one of his own subjects.
Vaelgor turned back toward the humans and ordered the remaining Cradle-Eaters,
"Now," he said calmly. "Begin."
"Close your eyes!" Jonah yelled again.
"Don't watch this!"
Angelo didn't argue this time.
He squeezed his eyes shut, chains rattling as he pulled with everything he had.
They didn't budge.
The screams began.
One by one, Jonah, Nadia, and the mangled General were tortured. Their agonized cries echoed off the stone walls, carving themselves into Angelo's mind. He begged—pleaded—for it to stop.
"Please!"
"Stop!"
"I'm sorry—please! I'm sorry!"
Over and over again, his voice broke apart.
Alex could only watch in horror as the soldiers who had come to bring his brother home were slaughtered like livestock.
James kept Emma's eyes covered, pressing her face into his chest. He couldn't shield her from the sounds. He and Olivia begged—along with their son—for the soldiers' lives to be spared.
Those cries reached Angelo too.
Each one drove the despair deeper.
Sophia's eyes scanned the chamber through the chaos, searching for anything—any way—to save them.
There was nothing.
Angelo kept begging. Kept apologizing.
Then—
Silence.
Vaelgor's laughter cut through it.
"Open your eyes," he mocked. "Look at the soldiers who came to save you."
Angelo opened them slowly, his heart hammering.
And he saw.
The mutilated bodies lay before him—what was left of Jonah, Nadia, and General Pierce. Blood soaked the stone floor beneath them.
The tears wouldn't stop.
Angelo collapsed forward, chains clattering as he fell to his knees. His shoulders shook. He stared at the corpses, trembling.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
Over and over again.
Vaelgor laughed.
"I thought you wanted me to do my worst," he said pleasantly. "Well? This is my worst."
His grin widened.
"Next, you'll see my best."
The creatures laughed with him.
Angelo lifted his head. His voice trembled—caught between rage and grief.
"Why?" he demanded. "Why are you doing this? What have I—or they—ever done to you?"
Vaelgor leaned forward on his throne, amused.
"It's simple," he said. "There is someone who wants you. Your power."
"Then take me!" Angelo cried. "Why kill them?"
Vaelgor chuckled.
"We could have delivered you straight to them," he admitted. "But where's the fun in that? Breaking you is far more entertaining."
Angelo's voice cracked as he begged.
"Please… take me instead. Let them go. I won't resist. If pain is what you want—hurt me. Just not them. Not my family."
Vaelgor's eyes narrowed.
"You?" he scoffed. "You're not even worth hurting. Look at yourself."
He gestured lazily.
"One of my Duskborn stabbed you straight through the stomach. Yet here you are. The hole is still there—but there's no blood."
Angelo glanced down.
His shirt was torn. His skin ruptured.
The wound didn't bleed.
His breath caught.
Vaelgor grinned.
"Do you even know," he asked softly, "what you are?"
Angelo didn't answer.
He didn't have one.
"Enough talk," Vaelgor said. "It's time for the main event."
The Hollowed Saints stepped forward, dragging Angelo's family—and Sophia—into the center of the hall.
Olivia screamed.
James tightened his hold on Emma.
Sophia struggled against her chains, trying to shield them.
Angelo cried out, pulling against his restraints with everything he had. The chains only bit deeper into his flesh.
"Please!" he screamed. "Please don't do this!"
Vaelgor nodded to one of the creatures.
"Choirmaster," he said. "Make sure he doesn't close his eyes this time."
A cruel smile spread across his face.
"We don't want him to miss a single thing."
The Bound Choirmaster slithered behind Angelo and pried his eyelids open with long, clawed fingers.
Angelo thrashed.
He couldn't look away.
The Cradle-Eaters began with Alex.
"No—no, please—!" Angelo sobbed, thrashing against his chains. "Not him! Please—don't take him!"
Two creatures dragged Alex forward and forced him to his knees.
He fought at first—spitting, cursing, clawing at them. "Let go of me, you sons of bitches! Let go!"
Then he saw Angelo's face.
The fear there—raw and naked—made him still.
His breath shook.
"… Angelo," he whispered, barely audible in the sudden silence. "I should've said it before…"
He looked up at him. His eyes were wide with fear—but not of death.
"I'm sorry."
The Cradle-Eaters tore his arms off.
"NOOO!" Angelo screamed.
Blood sprayed across the stone.
Alex's scream ripped through the chamber—high, broken, animal. The blades came down again and again, merciless, carving into him as he screamed in agony.
"Stop it!" Angelo cried. "Stop—please! Let him go!"
James and Olivia screamed, shielding Emma.
Tears streamed down Sophia's face as she watched, helpless.
The stabbing didn't stop until Alex's body slumped forward.
Still.
Gone.
"No!" Olivia wailed.
James's grip loosened—and Emma saw.
Her eldest brother lay broken in a pool of blood.
She screamed and tried to run, but the chains snapped tight, yanking her back.
Then they took Emma.
"No—EMMA!" Angelo roared, thrashing so violently the chains rattled like thunder.
James lunged forward, but a Hollowed Saint kicked him in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. He tried to rise.
He couldn't.
Olivia and Sophia were bound tighter.
Emma looked up at them—then at Angelo.
Her knees shook. Her voice trembled.
"Big brother…" she whimpered. "Why are you letting this happen?"
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Tears streamed down her face as she struggled in the Cradle-Eaters' grip.
"I thought…" she sobbed, "you were s'posed to protect us…"
Angelo broke.
"I don't wanna die!" Emma screamed. "I wanna go home! Mommy—!"
The blades struck.
Her scream shattered into a gasp.
"It hurts…" she cried weakly. "It hurts so much…"
Olivia and Sophia fought their chains, screaming.
James crawled toward her, dragging himself forward, bloodied hands scraping stone.
"It's gonna be alright, Emma," he whispered desperately. "Daddy will save you…"
He forced himself onto all fours, eyes locked on her.
Then—barely a breath—
"Make it stop…"
Her body went limp.
Angelo screamed her name as the Choirmaster's claws dug into his eyelids and forehead, drawing blood.
"EMMAAA!"
James wept openly as he was dragged forward and forced to his knees—right into the warm blood of his children. It soaked into his torn clothes, streaked down his face.
He stared at Alex and Emma's bodies.
Pain and fury burned in his eyes.
"Stay strong…" he gasped, lifting his head to meet Angelo's gaze. His voice was broken—but steady. "For your mother."
He swallowed.
"Don't… let these monsters win."
His hands clenched the floor.
They shattered his legs.
Slow. Deliberate.
Each stab went deeper, but James never screamed. He gritted his teeth through the agony, blood pouring from the wounds in his chest.
His eyes never left Angelo.
Haunted by his children.
By the thought of his wife.
When the final blade pierced his heart, James collapsed forward.
His eyes stayed open.
Unblinking.
Angelo sobbed uncontrollably—throat shredded from screaming, eyes burning with helpless rage.