"M-Mum… what just happened?" Leon's voice cracked, trembling as his wide eyes darted between his mother and the lifeless body at her feet. "What… what did you do to Lemuel?" His desperation climbed with each word, his throat tightening.
Silence.
Reina's sobs broke it. "Mum… no, no… this isn't real. Why is Lemuel on the ground?" Her tears fell fast as she shook her head violently. "I-I don't believe what I'm seeing! Why is Lemuel limp?!"
Leon stumbled forward, dropping to his knees. His hands grasped his brother's tiny frame. "Lemuel! Lemuel!" His cries grew louder, more frantic. "Wake up, please… wake up!" His voice cracked until it became nothing but screams, raw and helpless.
And then—
Lemuel's hand twitched. It reached upward—then passed through Leon's head.
The house fell silent.
Blood erupted from Leon's ears in a violent spray, pouring from his nose and bursting through one of his eyes. His screams cut short, replaced by a faint, broken whisper.
"…Why… brother?"
His remaining eye—drenched in tears and blood—locked onto Lemuel's gaze. Only then did he see it. Not the innocent spark of his younger brother, but endless pits of darkness—eyes devoid of whites, obsidian voids.
And behind them, watching, was their mother. Her gaze mirrored the same abyss. And she was smiling.
Leon's body went limp.
Reina shrieked, stumbling backward in terror before bolting toward the door. Her small hands reached for salvation—just one step more, just one step—
But her foot lifted, and suddenly she was suspended midair, weightless.
"H-huh…?" The confused sound slipped from her trembling lips.
A voice followed. Lemuel's voice—but it did not come from him. It came from her.
"You were the most annoying of them all."
Reina's vision blurred. She looked down, just in time to see the impossible—an empty chest cavity where her heart had been. Her mouth opened to scream, but nothing came.
Then—blank.