Morning light filtered through the kitchen window, casting our small table in a warm glow that felt like a mockery.

  Dad sat across from me, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of the jasmine-infused tea he'd brewed in a separate pot—Rell's favorite. He'd been up before me, which wasn't unusual.

  "You look troubled, Fischer." His voice carried that familiar warmth, the tone that had soothed countless nightmares throughout my childhood.

  "Just tired," I lied, taking a careful sip of my coffee. It tasted bitter, more so than usual.

  Dad nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "It's been quite a week, hasn't it?"

  "Yeah," I mumbled.

  The mini-Rell remained hidden against my neck, tucked beneath my collar. I could feel its tiny form pressing against my skin, a constant reminder of my sister's warning.

  Dad glanced toward the hallway. "She should be up soon." He took another sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving mine. "Did you sleep well?"

  "Fine."

  "No strange dreams? No... sensations?"

  I frowned. "What do you mean?"

  Before he could answer, Rell appeared in the doorway. She looked better than yesterday—her skin had regained some color, though the ghostly quality remained. The white streaks in her red hair seemed to shimmer in the morning light. She'd woven fresh flowers into her braid, their scent announcing her presence before she even spoke.

  "Morning," she said, voice still carrying the musical quality that had emerged after her Trial.

  Dad's entire demeanor shifted subtly.

  His posture straightened, his eyes sharpened, and something hungry flickered across his face—so quickly I almost missed it.

  "Good morning, Rell." His smile widened. "Tea's ready."

  She nodded, sliding into the chair beside me. Under the table, I felt something small press into my palm—another mini-Rell. This one moved up my sleeve while the original remained hidden against my neck.

  "How are you feeling?" Dad asked, pouring her tea.

  "Better," she said. "Stronger. It's like... everything's clearer now." She accepted the cup with a small smile. "Thank you."

  "Your Origin is stabilizing beautifully." Dad leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I've been thinking about what you showed us last night. The potential applications are fascinating."

  "I'm still learning," Rell said, a hint of caution in her voice. "It's all so new."

  Dad nodded, setting down his cup with a deliberate click against the saucer. "Of course. But you've adapted so quickly."

  The pride in his voice sounded genuine. That was the thing about Dad—his affection never seemed fake. Even now, with mini-Rell's warnings burning in my mind, I couldn't detect falseness in his warmth.

  Something shifted in the air between them—a tension that hadn't been there before. Rell knew something. Dad knew she knew. And both were pretending everything was normal.

  "I think," Dad said after a moment of charged silence, "it's time we had an honest conversation."

  My pulse quickened. The mini-Rell against my neck tensed.

  "About what?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  Dad's eyes never left Rell's face. "About why I left the SDC. About what I've been working toward all these years." He took a deep breath. "About what is going to happen next."

  Rell set down her teacup, the liquid inside rippling slightly. "I'm listening."

  Dad smiled, and for the first time, I saw something ancient and predatory behind his eyes. "I've always loved you both. That's important to understand before anything else. Everything I've done has been out of love."

  "What have you done?" Rell's voice was soft but steady.

  "I've groomed you." The words hung in the air, simple and horrifying. "Both of you, from the moment you were born. Like a gardener tends his most precious flowers."

  My stomach twisted. "What does that even mean?"

  Dad's gaze shifted to me, then back to Rell. "It means I've guided your growth. Shaped your development. Prepared you for your true purpose."

  "Which is?" Rell's fingers tightened around her teacup.

  "Evolution." Dad leaned back, his posture relaxing as if a weight had been lifted. "My evolution, to be percise."

  The kitchen seemed to grow colder, the morning light dimming though the sun still shone outside. Dad continued speaking, his voice taking on the lecturing tone he'd used during our morning lessons throughout childhood.

  "The Sacred system is elegant but inefficient. Trials, grades, evolutions—it's all so... linear. But there are shortcuts, if you know where to look." He smiled. "The SDC found one, centuries ago. They buried the research, of course. Can't have Sacred bypassing the established order."

  "What kind of shortcut?" I asked.

  Dad's eyes gleamed. "Direct integration of another Sacred's Origin into one's own. It's how the Grigori designed the system originally—predator and prey, the strong consuming the weak to evolve faster."

  Rell's face had gone pale. "You're talking about killing other Sacred and stealing their power."

  "Not stealing." Dad looked genuinely offended. "Honoring. Elevating. When a Grade 5 beast consumes a Grade 4, it doesn't steal—it transforms, incorporating the consumed power into something greater."

  "We're not beasts," I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

  Dad laughed, the sound gentle and familiar. "Of course we are, Fischer. Sacred are just beasts who simply walk and talk. The Signal changed our DNA, rewrote our biology. We're closer to the creatures in the Reaches than to the humans we once were."

  He reached across the table, placing his hand over Rell's. She didn't pull away, though I saw her jaw tighten.

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  "My Origin is called The Shepherd," Dad continued. "It allows me to groom others, to nurture their growth toward the most optimal traits. I can implant bonds, monitor development, and guide evolution paths. It's how I knew Rell would manifest Masquerade. It's how I've been preparing you both since infancy."

  "Preparing us for what?"

  Dad's smile was gentle, loving. "For a magnificent Feast."

  The words hung in the air like a physical manifestation. Rell's fingers twitched beneath Dad's hand, but she remained still.

  "You're going to kill us," she said, not a question.

  "No, Rell." Dad squeezed her hand. "I'm going to consume you. Your consciousness, your memories, your power—they'll live on within me. You'll become part of something greater."

  "You're insane," I whispered.

  Dad shook his head, looking genuinely disappointed. "I expected you to understand, Fischer. You've always been the pragmatic one. Think of it as a step towards evolutionary ascendancy. Why should three separate Sacred exist when we could become one perfect being?"

  "Because we want to live our own lives," Rell said, her voice stronger now. "Because we're people, not ingredients."

  "You've always seen the world through such a limited lens." Dad sighed, then straightened. "But it doesn't matter if you understand. The bonds were implanted years ago. They've been maturing your entire lives."

  I felt it then—a strange pressure at the base of my skull, like someone pressing a thumb against my brain stem. Judging by Rell's sudden sharp intake of breath, she felt it too.

  "There," Dad said softly. "Do you feel that? The connection we've always shared? It's not metaphorical. It's biological. The bonds allow me to monitor you, influence you subtly."

  I tried to stand, to run, to do anything—but my body wouldn't respond. The pressure in my skull intensified, spreading down my spine, locking my muscles in place.

  "Don't fight it," Dad advised, his voice still gentle. "It only makes the process more uncomfortable."

  Rell's eyes met mine, wide with fear and determination. I saw her fingers twitch, and suddenly the kitchen was filled with dozens of miniature Rells, materializing from thin air. They launched themselves at Dad, tiny hands clawing at his face, his eyes, his mouth.

  Dad laughed, batting them away with casual swipes of his hand. "Impressive control, especially under my pressure. But these puppets are not strong enough yet."

  The mini-Rells vanished in puffs of silver mist. Dad stood, moving around the table with grace of a predator. The pressure in my skull built until my vision blurred with tears.

  "I'll start with you, Rell," he said, reaching for her. "Your Origin has already manifested and is at its peak potency right now, fresh from the Trial."

  "Don't," I gasped, struggling against the invisible force holding me in place. "Dad, please."

  "I'm not doing this out of cruelty, Fischer." Dad pulled Rell to her feet, wrapping her in what looked like a loving embrace. She fought against him, but her movements were sluggish, constrained by the same force paralyzing me. "This is everything I've worked for. Everything I've prepared you both for."

  "We're your children," Rell whispered, tears streaming down her face.

  Dad nodded, stroking her hair with genuine affection. "Yes. Which makes you the perfect vessels. The perfect components. Who better to contribute to my ascension than the children I love most in this world?"

  The air pressure changed, creating a popping sensation in my ears. Dad's shadow seemed to darken, spreading across the kitchen floor like spilled ink.

  "My Origin has been waiting for this moment for twenty years," he said, still holding Rell close. "Ever since I identified your potential in the womb."

  His jaw began to shift, the bones beneath his skin moving in ways that human anatomy shouldn't allow. Rell's eyes widened in horror as she watched Mikkel’s face transform from the loving parent she'd known her entire life into something ancient and predatory.

  "Dad," she whispered, one last plea.

  His mouth stretched, wider than any human mouth should be able to open.

  Row upon row of teeth became visible—Long serrated shark-like teeth that rotated like the blades of some terrible machine.

  "I love you, Rell," he said, his voice distorted by his transformed mouth. "This is the greatest honor I can give you."

  I screamed, fighting against the paralysis with everything I had. The mini-Rell against my neck was frantically biting at my skin, trying to break me free of whatever hold Dad had over me. The second mini-Rell was clawing at my palm, drawing blood that dripped onto the kitchen floor.

  Dad pulled Rell closer to his distended mouth.

  The teeth began to spin faster, creating a high-pitched whine like a saw blade cutting through metal. Rell fought, kicking and scratching, but her movements were weak, constrained by Dad's bond.

  "Fischer!" she screamed, reaching toward me. "Help me!"

  I strained against the invisible force holding me, veins bulging in my neck, muscles trembling with effort. The mini-Rell at my neck bit down hard, and I felt something snap—a connection breaking.

  For one heartbeat, I was free.

  I lunged forward, grabbing the nearest weapon I could find—a kitchen knife from the counter. Dad saw the movement, his distorted eyes widening in surprise. He twisted, positioning Rell between us like a shield.

  "Don't make this harder than it needs to be," he said, the words mangled by his transformed mouth.

  "Let her go!" I brandished the knife, knowing how pathetic I must look—an Unawakened kid threatening a Sacred who'd been planning this for decades.

  Dad's eyes softened with what looked like genuine pity. "You can't stop this, Fischer. It's what you were born for. What you were created for."

  "I wasn't created for your sick plans," I spat. "Neither was she."

  Dad sighed, the sound whistling through his rows of rotating teeth. "I had hoped you would understand. That you would accept your purpose with dignity." He shook his head. "But children rarely appreciate their parents' sacrifices."

  He tightened his grip on Rell, pulling her toward his monstrous mouth. She was crying now, not the quiet tears of fear but the wrenching sobs of betrayal.

  "Dad, please," she begged. "We love you. We've always loved you."

  "And I love you," he replied, voice gentle despite the horror of his transformed face. "That's why this is necessary. That's why this is beautiful."

  I charged forward, knife raised, knowing I couldn't reach them in time but unable to just stand there watching. Dad flicked his wrist dismissively, and the pressure slammed back into my skull with such force that I crashed to the floor, knife skittering away across the tile.

  "Watch, Fischer," Dad commanded. "Learn what it means to become part of something greater."

  He pulled Rell's head toward his mouth, her red hair—still woven with fresh flowers—cascading over his arm. The rotating teeth spun faster, their whine becoming a scream.

  "I'm sorry, Fish," Rell sobbed, looking at me one last time. "I love you."

  Dad's teeth made contact with her scalp, and blood sprayed across the kitchen in a fine mist. Rell's scream cut through me like a physical blow. I thrashed against the invisible bonds, howling in rage and despair as the teeth chewed deeper, shredding through skin and bone with mechanical efficiency.

  Blood pooled on the kitchen floor, spreading toward me like a crimson tide. Rell's body convulsed as Dad's teeth worked their way down, consuming her from the top down. Her screams became wet, gurgling sounds, then stopped altogether.

  Dad's throat bulged as he swallowed, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

  A strange light began to emanate from within him, shining through his skin like he'd swallowed the sun. Rell's body went limp in his arms, what remained of her head now unrecognizable pulp.

  "Yes," Dad gasped between bites, voice thick with pleasure. "Perfect. The Origin is... exquisite."

  I couldn't look away. I couldn't close my eyes. The paralysis force Dad exerted kept me pinned in place, forced to witness every moment as he methodically consumed my sister. Piece by piece. Bite by bite.

  The mini-Rell against my neck was trembling violently. The one in my palm had gone completely still. As Dad continued feeding, they both began to glow with the same strange light emanating from within him.

  "Don't worry, Fischer," Dad said, pausing to wipe blood from his chin with an almost dainty gesture. "You'll join us soon. Not today—your Origin hasn't manifested yet. But soon.”

  I couldn't speak. Couldn't even scream anymore. I just lay there on the kitchen floor, watching as the last pieces of my sister disappeared down my father's throat.

  When it was over, Dad's jaw reset itself with a series of wet clicks. The teeth retracted, the mouth returned to its normal size. He looked almost exactly the same as he had at breakfast—except for his eyes. Where they had been warm brown, they now shimmered with copper-crimson rings, identical to Rell's eyes.

  He knelt beside me, stroking my hair with a blood-soaked hand.

  "I know this is difficult to understand right now. But someday, you'll see. This is the greatest gift I could give you both." He smiled, and it was the same smile that had comforted me after childhood nightmares. "To become part of something perfect."

  The mini-Rells were fading now, their tiny bodies dissolving into silver mist. The last one, the original that had warned me, pressed its diminutive hand against my cheek in what felt like a final goodbye.

  "She's still here, Fischer," Dad said, tapping his chest. "Part of me now. Her consciousness, her memories, her power—all preserved within my Sacred Soul."

  He moved to the sink, washing his hands with methodical care. "I think I'll make pancakes," he said, as if we'd just had a normal family discussion rather than... whatever the fuck had just happened.

  I lay there, still paralyzed, as Dad hummed a familiar lullaby and began gathering ingredients. Blood pooled on the kitchen floor. The scent of jasmine from Rell's flowers mixed with the metallic smell of her spilled life.

  My sister was gone. Consumed by the man who'd raised us.

  And I was next.