“It’d be my pleasure,” he answers simply, his musical pitch suddenly seeming more unnerving than peaceful. Much like the death he represents, I suppose.
“Great, now that that’s settled,” Michael rolls his eyes, swiveling his chair to face his side of the audience. “Do we have anyone from House Vesperin here? If so, please stand.”
Two young angels, a boy and a girl with dark hair and wiry frames, reluctantly rise to their feet. They look like mere teenagers, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, if their appearances are anything to go by.
“Ah, the twins! You’ll do perfectly.” Michael acts like he’s playing some sort of game as he acknowledges them. I can’t help but wonder where the fuck he’s going with this. “Remind everyone for us, who is your father?”
The girl answers slowly, quietly, “Teyrin of House Vesperin.”
“Thank you. That is all, you may be seated.” Waving them off, Michael spins his chair back towards the master shapeshifter. “You remember Lyra, don’t you, Kiba? Your only granddaughter born before Triumph Day?”
Kiba’s eyes remain glued to the twins, their body frozen and lacking all prior bravado. Even their voice comes out pained, “Yes. I remember all the children of my bastard son.”
“Well, notall. Vesperin’s had a few more in the past two thousand years. But with your absence, of course, they were born without specialties. So you’re not missing much on that front.”
Their gaze finally shifts to Michael, darkened by something vindictive and sinister. “What have you done to my Lyra?”
“The same thing I had to do with all of the Watchers’ descendants, of course.” Michael pauses nonchalantly to inspect an invisible blemish on his golden gauntlet, prolonging the time it takes him to get to the fucking point. “We needed more shapeshifters, you see, and Lyra was the only womb with your specialty. So, I cleansed her bloodline with my seed. Haven’t you heard? It’s a truly unique skill of mine.”
Oh, God.
What in theactual fuck.
Is he seriously gloating about his sexual relations with Kiba’s granddaughter… in the name ofEUGENICS?That is so far beyond revolting.It’s sick, twisted, perverted, cruel?—
Semyaza places a warning hand on his second, who looks like they’re about to come undone, but Michael doesn’t relent. He keeps pushing and pushing.
“It’s a shame your dear granddaughter remains in our Purgatory for high treason these days. Luckily, though, Lyra’s and my cleansed son Teyrin has produced plenty of new bloodlines with your shapeshifting specialty, and hejust keeps going.” A dark chuckle. “I even have some of them with me here today. I’m so glad I could arrange this introduction, Kiba, between you and some of your newest great-great-grandchildren—mygrandchildren. Wave hello, twins!”
The two teenagers from before reluctantly obey, looking more uncomfortable than if a gun were pointed at their heads.
“Vesperin was a mistake. I never meant to have offspring.” Kiba’s voice sounds demonic, shaking with fury. “You have abused my gift and reduced innocent Lyra to a broodmare. Have you no shame?”
“Oh, don’t be so sour. Vesperin has been ablessingto Elohim. You should be proud of your boy! He’s a true loyalist and an outstanding citizen, despite the traitorous actions of his parents.” Michael casually cracks his knuckles. “You are powerful, yes, but you have been replaced many times over. All thanks to Lyra and her willingness to breed with me, however reluctant she may have?—”
Kiba lunges across the table like a rabid animal.
And they promptly freeze in place under someone’s magic.
Michael’s wicked laughter fills the room. He turns to the least horrendous Council member at his side, granting me a good look at the pure joy on his face. “You wanted me to teach the cadets a lesson about war, did you not, Raphael?”
“That is correct,” he replies solemnly, staring at Kiba’s frozen body with an expression caught between melancholy and pity.
“I believe this should be sufficient, shouldn’t it?”
“Yes, you made many fine points.”
I don’t know what’s more sickening to me right now: Michael’s vile nature—or everyone’s disgusting sycophancy towards him?
Abaddon catches it. He glances at me, frowning, just before sending another wave of power over me. The revulsion I feel instantly dies from embers into ashes, and everything human about me recedes.
I’m barely left with conscious thought, listening to everything in a haze.
“Brilliant,” Michael hums, releasing Kiba from their frozen position. Still wearing the wrath of a thousand suns, the shapeshifter sinks back into their chair as Michael prattles on. “If you want Lyra released, youwilltreat the Council as your superior. You will work with the Speculatores, follow Council Law, and report to us directly in Elohim when ordered to.”
“Absolutely not,” Semyaza interrupts—to the collective gasp of the audience. “Kiba is my second-in-command. I will not have them reporting to anyone other than me, and I will not allow them to suffer any more penance to enter your city.”
Michael bristles, his discontent poorly controlled, as he answers quickly.
