"...Mom?"
That was the last thing the boy said before his head was torn from his body.
Appolyth stood still, her breathing uneven. The child inside her writhed violently, twisting her form. Her flesh faded and reformed, flickering like broken light.
"He's coming for me," she muttered, trembling. "I'll have to keep my son safe…"
Without hesitation, she clawed open her womb.
From within, she pulled a lifeless infant—Azareal—drenched in black ichor. Its flesh was gray and rotten, eyes hollow, maggots crawling from its sockets.
Appolyth smiled weakly, tears mixing with blood.
"Ahh… my beautiful child, born through me…"
Then something impossible happened—
The corpse twitched.
The decay reversed.
Rot turned to flesh, black to pink, and his eyes—amethyst and radiant—opened.
Appolyth staggered. Her form cracked, light spilling through the fractures in her body.
She began to carve glowing runes upon the infant's chest, whispering between screams.
"I will tear your soul… into four… and hide it within me. They will never find you…"
The runes pulsed once—then faded into the child's skin.
"This body's will is strong…" she gasped, her voice breaking. "Before I go… I'll change her memories."
Her divine shell began to dissolve into mist.
As she faded, Reheil's green eyes opened once more, her body trembling as if waking from a nightmare.
She looked down at the newborn in her arms, unaware of the shadow that birthed him.
"My son…" she whispered softly. "I will name you after the fallen moons…
Azareal."