Petal was the first to stop moving.
"Hm?"
Her spoon slipped from her fingers.
"I... m’ sleepy..."
The words came out slurred as she rubbed her eyes, barely able to keep them open.
A few seconds later, Moss quietly collapsed onto the table, his forehead striking the wood with a dull thud.
Thorn’s grip tightened around her bowl.
Her breathing turned uneven.
She stared at her trembling fingers before slowly raising her head toward me.
"...What..."
Confusion turns into realization.
"Y-you..."
She tried to stand.
Her legs folded instantly.
Her body slammed into the floor.
She looked up at me, disbelief twisting across her face.
"What... did you do...?"
I leaned back into the armchair and took another slow bite, chewing thoughtfully before letting out a satisfied hum.
"...Not bad."
My gaze drifted back to Thorn.
"Thank you, Sister."
"You made this far easier than it should’ve been."
A quiet laugh escaped me.
"I kept wondering when you’d finally start questioning me... but you never did."
My eyes dropped to the black sludge pooled inside her bowl.
"I guess I understand why."
"Mother’s blood."
"The sacred little ritual that makes us family."
I smiled.
"You really believed nothing could betray you as long as we’d all shared it."
My fingers tapped against the bowl.
"What a comforting lie."
My grin slowly widened.
"Too bad..."
"It never worked on me..."
Thorn’s expression completely fell apart.
"...Y-you..."
"...You bastard..."
She tried dragging herself toward Petal, but her arms collapsed beneath her own weight.
"...What..."
"...What are you going to do to us...?"
I stood. Thorn’s pupils shrank. Even half-paralyzed, she instinctively tried pulling herself away. It was as though she could feel my presence pressing down on her. At the same time, a dull ache bloomed at the back of my head. The same one. The same pressure I’d felt when facing Bramble. Her lips trembled.
"...Y-you...
"You killed Bramble... didn’t you?"
A smile slowly spread across my face.
"Took you long enough."
I stepped closer, looking down at her twitching body.
"As for what I’m about to do..." I tilted my head. "Isn’t it obvious?"
A dry chuckle escaped me.
"I’m going to kill every last one of you."
With that, Thorn fell. Even unconscious, her fingers were still reaching toward her siblings.
Aseren stood there for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"No worries." A quiet laugh slipped from his lips, soft enough to almost sound affectionate. "Families belong together, don’t they?"
He tilted his head.
"I’ll make sure yours stays that way."
A few days ago, he would’ve laughed at the idea of standing over a family he’d just poisoned, calmly discussing their deaths as though he were announcing tomorrow’s weather. Now... it felt natural. Comfortable, even. Somewhere along the way, disgust had stopped pleading with him. Fear still lingered, but it no longer possessed his hands.
His fingers tightened around the bowl.
The wood creaked.
"..."
No.
No fear, only excitement. His pulse wasn’t quickened by terror but by the thrill of finally taking action and making progress.
Finally tearing apart the nightmare he’d been trapped inside since opening his eyes in this cursed place.
He looked down at Petal.
She had fallen asleep with her cheek resting against the table, one tiny hand still wrapped around her spoon. Moss hadn’t moved since collapsing. Thorn lay crumpled across the floor, fingers frozen mid-reach, her expression still twisted by disbelief.
For a fleeting moment, the room appeared nearly peaceful.
"..."
His gaze drifted toward the kitchen.
Moving closer to the walls, specifically toward the many dry, aged wooden beams supporting the nest.
He walked over to one of the broken chairs, crouched, and picked up the leg he’d snapped off earlier. The sharpened end was already rough from where he’d carved it down.
One hand held it against the floor while the other spun it rapidly. The wood squeaked under the motion, and a thin ribbon of smoke curled upward.
His forearms tightened as the friction built, muscles flexing beneath skin that no longer looked entirely human. Every rotation became faster than the last until the wood itself began protesting beneath the pressure.
Smoke thickened.
Then—
A tiny ember bloomed.
"...There you are."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
He tipped it into the pile of dry shavings he’d prepared beforehand and lowered himself until his lips were inches away.
One slow breath.
The ember brightened.
Another.
Orange spread through the curls like veins awakening beneath skin.
Then—
Fire.
A tiny flame danced at first.
Delicate. Stunning.
Aseren stared at it for several seconds without blinking.
"..."
His smile came back, this time more slowly and broader.
He picked the burning bundle up with both hands and gently pressed it against one of the wooden support pillars.
The flames hesitated.
Then they ascended, as if they had been awaiting liberation.
A few days ago, this would’ve been impossible.
Back then, he was human.
Now, after Bramble’s blood had twisted his body into something else, strength like this felt almost natural. His muscles no longer tired the way they should. His skin endured friction that would’ve torn a normal man’s hands apart.
He was glad he wasn’t human anymore.
The tiny flame fed greedily on the dry shavings before climbing onto the splintered wood.
Then it spread.
Slowly.
Patiently.
One table caught. Then another. Curtains of smoke rolled across the ceiling as the fire crawled through the roots as if it had forever belonged there.
Aseren simply watched.
He slowly stretched both arms apart, standing in the heart of the room as the orange glow swallowed his silhouette. His shadow danced wildly across the walls, growing longer with every passing second.
The flames crept closer.
Heading toward Moss. Heading toward Thorn. Heading toward the family that once called him brother.
The Broodmother pushed open the door to her office, already thinking about dinner.
The meeting with the other Regents had gone on longer than she’d hoped.
The people outside the forest had finally started paying attention to what was happening here, and they had sent a cavalry of knights or something similar.
A faint metallic smell greeted her.
Her steps slowed.
Blood. Still fresh, not fully settled into the wood. Her eyes scanned the room.
Nothing appeared to be disturbed. The desk remained untouched, and the shelves were still in place. Her eyes then focused on the closet.
"Bramble?"
He was supposed to be guarding this room.
At least, that was what she thought.
She frowned, then crossed the room and opened the door without hesitation.
The body dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, twisting upon landing. His neck was not just cracked but broken. His head hung at an impossible angle, one that no living creature could endure. She stared at him silently for a long moment.
Then she crouched beside the body and brushed a strand of hair away from his face.
Cold.
Her hand lingered there.
Someone had murdered him... and concealed his body in her office. Her child..
WhAt A cRuEl... JoKe.
The wood beneath her feet groaned.
A crack quietly spread across the floorboards.
"Who..."
"WHO DARES?!" Rage erupted from the Broodmother in a wave so dense it bent the air itself. The office shook violently. Cracks raced across the wooden floor as the pressure rolled through the nest like a living thing.
Whoever it was had just inherited the full weight of her fury.
The word slipped out before she was aware she had spoken. Then— a scream resonated through the tunnels.
"Mother!"
Petal.
Another sound followed—wood splitting.
A distant roar caught her attention. Only then did she see the flickering orange glow outside the hallway. Fire.
Fire.
She froze.
For the first time in years, fear found its way onto her face.
"No..."
The word barely escaped her lips before she was already moving.
"Petal!"
Her voice tore through the tunnels.
"Thorn!"
"Moss!"
She didn’t wait for an answer.
She ran.
The narrow passages blurred together as she forced her way through them, splintering roots that stood in her path. The air grew hotter with every step. Smoke began to sting her eyes, and the orange glow ahead only grew brighter.
"Please..."
She hadn’t whispered that word in decades.
By the time she reached the end of the tunnel, she wasn’t thinking about the one who had done this.
She wasn’t thinking about revenge.
There was only one thought left in her mind.
My children.
The fire had already reached Moss and Thorn. Their screams tore through the room as they writhed across the floor, desperately trying to smother the flames with their own bodies. The smell of burning flesh slowly drowned out everything else, yet Aseren never looked away.
It was only then that he noticed something strange. The flames climbed around his legs, brushing against his clothes before slipping past as though he wasn’t worth consuming. He felt the heat, but not the pain. It was almost as if the fire itself had decided he belonged beside it rather than within it.
Then he heard it.
Heavy footsteps thundered through the tunnels, each one louder than the last. His heart skipped. For a fleeting moment, every instinct screamed at him to run, but he crushed the thought before it could take root. No. This was the only chance he’d ever get. The only way out of this nightmare. He had to finish it.
Just as he steadied his breathing, something flickered across his mind. A memory. So brief it barely existed. Enough to make his expression falter for the smallest fraction of a second.
The door exploded inward.
"PETAL!"
"MOSS!"
"THORN!"
The Broodmother’s voice ripped through the dining hall, stripped of every trace of composure. It wasn’t the commanding voice of a Regent anymore.
It was the desperate cry of a mother.
Her eyes darted frantically across the room, searching for her children.
Then she found them.
Thorn writhing across the floor.
Moss engulfed in flames.
Petal lying motionless beside the table.
Her breath caught.
"...No."
The word came out so quietly it was almost swallowed by the crackling fire.
Then her gaze slowly lifted.
And settled on Aseren.
Standing in the middle of the inferno.
Smiling.
"YOU TRAITOROUS CHILD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Her voice resonated through the hall, flames curling around it. Aseren blinked, surprised. Suddenly he erupted into laughter. It was not a mere chuckle or a smirk.
He laughed so hard he had to clutch his chest, shoulders shaking as though she’d just told him the funniest joke he’d ever heard.
"Mooother~!" he cried, throwing one hand dramatically over his heart. "Don’t tell me you forgot what today is?"
His grin stretched wider.
"Happy Family Bonfire Day!"
The smile vanished from the Broodmother’s face.
"UNGRATEFUL WRETCH!" she roared. "I TOOK YOU IN! I FED YOU! I CALLED YOU MY SON!"
Her hands trembled with fury.
"AND THIS... THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!"
Aseren tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.
"...Bloom?"
He looked around at the burning room before letting out another laugh.
"Mother..." His voice softened almost affectionately. "You’re crazier than I am."
"Sorry..."
A strange smile crept onto Aseren’s face.
"But I was never your son."
His voice began to shake.
"I was never Bloom."
The words caught in his throat. His body trembled as though every syllable fought to stay buried. Fear, relief, hatred... even he couldn’t tell them apart anymore.
Then he screamed.
"MY NAME IS ASEREN!"
"...Who...?"
She stared at him, completely lost.
"Then..."
"...Where’s my son?"
"YOU CRAZY FIEND! THERE WAS NEVER A SON!"
Every word landed like a blade. The Broodmother staggered back, her breathing growing uneven as smoke filled her lungs. Behind her, Moss and Thorn continued screaming, their cries swallowed by the roar of the flames. Less than six minutes. That was all it had taken for everything she’d built over the years to come undone.
Aseren stepped forward.
"Remember."
His voice wasn’t loud anymore.
It didn’t need to be.
"Remember your name."
She stared at him as though she were looking at something that had crawled out of a nightmare.
"Remember... who you were."
Her lips parted.
"...Serel..."
The name slipped out before she could get a hold of it. And everything fell apart.
Every stitched eyelid tore open at once. Her pupils quivered violently as memories she’d buried beneath years of instinct and blood came crashing back all at once. She clutched at her head with every arm she had, nails digging into her own flesh as she folded in on herself, desperately trying to hold together a mind that was coming apart.
"...No..."
"...P-please... S-stop..."
She wasn’t seeing Aseren anymore.
She was seeing the woman she’d murdered to become the Broodmother.
A slow smile spread across Aseren’s face.
It worked.
It actually worked.
Whatever the Broodmother had become... Serel was still buried somewhere beneath it.
He crouched in front of her, his voice dropping until it was almost gentle.
"There you are."
"I knew you were still in there."
Serel’s breathing became erratic. She hugged herself tighter, every arm trembling as fragmented memories crashed into one another. A warm home. A name. A face. Then blood. Endless blood.
"No..."
"No..."
"I’m not..."
Aseren’s smile vanished.
"Yes, you are."
Serel’s hands slowly fell away from her head.
Her breathing refused to steady. Fragments of memories crashed into one another so violently she could barely tell which life belonged to whom. There had been a home once. A name. Laughter that hadn’t sounded hollow. She remembered warm hands brushing through her hair... and a promise she’d failed to keep.
Her lips parted.
"...Bloom..."
She looked at Aseren.
Not as the Broodmother.
As a mother.
Her expression cracked beneath the weight of confusion and grief.
"...What happened to you...?"
Since entering the room, she wasn’t looking at the fire.
She was looking for her son.
Then Petal screamed.
The cry ripped through the room, sharp enough to drown out the crackling flames. Serel’s head snapped toward it. Thorn’s body was already burning. Moss had stopped moving. Petal was trapped beneath a collapsing beam, reaching toward her with both hands.
Something inside her shattered. Not her mind, but her heart.
The sorrow vanished beneath something far older. Outlying, more militant.
Blood seeped from beneath her nails before twisting through the air like living threads. The warmth disappeared from her eyes, replaced by something cold enough to smother the flames themselves.
When she looked back at Aseren, Serel had already disappeared. Only the Broodmother was left.
"...I’LL KIILLLLL YOU!!!!!!" Her voice boomed across the room.
They were hers.
And she had promised herself they would never be taken from her.
The floor beneath her feet erupted.