The wooden door creaked open, the hinges groaning like they hadn't been oiled in years. The small house felt colder than the cavern they'd just left, as though the absence of its owner had drained the warmth out of its walls.
Caelan stepped in first, scanning every corner cautiously, his instincts sharpened by the chaos of their world. Ciel clung tightly to his brother's sleeve, his wide eyes darting between the empty chairs, the faded family photos, and the cracked window where dust gathered.
The silence was heavy. Too heavy.
Their house was small, but it was beautiful in its own way — not in wealth or splendor, but in the quiet memories pressed into every corner. Wooden toys their father had once carved sat on a low shelf, worn smooth by tiny hands. A handwoven rug, frayed at the edges, still carried the faint warmth of their mother's touch. Even the dining table bore faint scratches from years of play and shared meals. It was humble, but it was theirs — a reminder of laughter, love, and the family that once felt whole.
Khae entered last, his long shadow stretching across the worn floorboards. He tilted his head, taking in the stillness of the home. "So this is where mortals keep their nests," he murmured. "Fragile little shells against a world that wants to devour them."
Zerath trailed behind, his hands tucked behind his back as if he were on a casual stroll. "Doesn't look like much. I've seen goblins build sturdier dens."
Caelan frowned, his voice low. "It's still home."
Khae glanced at him, then looked around again. The weight of the boys' grief was almost tangible, stitched into the very walls of the house. He was about to speak when something small and unexpected happened—Ciel turned suddenly, wrapping his arms around Khae's waist.
Khae froze.
The timid child pressed his face into the folds of Khae clothes, whispering in a voice muffled by tears. "Thank you… for saving us…"
For the first time in ages, the Demon God found himself stunned into silence. Slowly, almost awkwardly, his clawed hand hovered before resting lightly on Ciel's back. "Hmph. You're braver than you look, little one." His lips curved faintly. "But don't mistake me for kind. I made a promise to your mother, and I will see it through."
Caelan said nothing, but the way his eyes softened showed his gratitude.
They sat for a while in the quiet, until Khae's stomach broke it with a deep, resonant growl.
The brothers blinked. Zerath tilted his head. "...Was that you, my lord?"
Khae exhaled through his nose, expression unchanging. "Apparently, even here, this body requires… nourishment."
The children glanced at one another, unsure if they should laugh or stay silent.
Khae turned slowly, fixing his gaze on Zerath. "Do you know why I told you to follow us, dragon?"
Zerath blinked. "Because I am strong? Because I am useful? Because I know this world better than you?"
Khae's lips curved into the faintest grin. "Because you can cook."
There was a pause. Zerath's face went blank. "...You summoned me, forced me into this wretched human form, made me follow you… to make me a chef?"
Khae leaned back into the chair, his arms crossing as though the matter were obvious. "Precisely. Now prove your worth, little dragon. Feed us."
Zerath dragged his feet toward the tiny kitchen, muttering curses under his breath. "Once feared as the Black Sky Dragon, and now reduced to… frying eggs. My ancestors weep."
He swung open the cupboards with a flourish—only to find them nearly empty. A cracked bowl, a chipped plate, and nothing but stale crumbs scattered at the bottom of a jar. He checked the shelves, the drawers, even sniffed at a half-rotten onion that looked weeks old.
Nothing.
Zerath turned slowly, his expression blank as he held up the onion like it was proof of betrayal. "My lord… your nest is barren."
Caelan raised an eyebrow. "It's not his nest. It's ours."
Khae tapped his clawed fingers against the armrest of his chair, unbothered. "So. There is nothing to cook?"
"Nothing but death in vegetable form," Zerath muttered, tossing the onion back onto the counter.
Khae stood, his tall frame filling the room. "Then let us go."
Both Caelan and Ciel blinked up at him. "...Go? Where?"
Khae looked perfectly serious. "To that place where humans gather their food. Where they hunt it, buy it, whatever it is mortals do."
Caelan tilted his head, confused. "You mean… a grocery store?"
Khae nodded once, solemn as though declaring a great truth. "Yes. A grocery store."
Zerath groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "The Demon God of the Abyss… shopping for bread."
Ciel giggled softly for the first time in days, his little voice bubbling out between hiccups of laughter. "K-Khae in a grocery store…"
Khae glanced down at him, and for a moment, his abyssal eyes softened. "If it will keep you fed, then yes. Even a god will step into a mortal market."