Chapter 2796: Story 2797: The Voice Inside the Father

The female voice echoed through the chamber.

“Children, run. Your father is no longer alone.”

The man in the doorway clutched his chest. Golden cracks spread across his skin, and something beneath them pushed outward, stretching his ribs like bars around a living prison.

Ronan stepped forward despite having no sword.

“Father, fight it!”

The man looked at him with desperate tenderness.

“I have fought it since before your first breath.”

His back arched.

A black hand emerged from his chest, followed by another. They gripped his shoulders from within, forcing his body apart without spilling a single drop of blood.

Lyra felt the seventh heartbeat awaken.

“It’s the thing Mother imprisoned,” she whispered. “It’s escaping through him.”

Seratha shook her head violently. “No. The prison was never inside your father.”

Everyone turned toward her.

The First Mother raised her tear-streaked face.

“Your father was the prison.”

A terrible silence followed.

The man laughed weakly. “You finally understand, Seratha.”

His eyes changed. One remained golden, filled with pain; the other became a bottomless black void.

“I was created to hold the hunger that existed before creation. Every star, every soul, every kingdom was built around my suffering.”

The black hands pulled harder.

“And when your mother loved me, the hunger learned what love was.”

The chamber shook.

Ronan stared at him. “Why did you make us?”

“To give it something else to love,” Father answered. “I believed a family could teach it mercy.”

His gaze moved across Ronan, then toward the invisible presence inside his chest.

“But one child inherited my blood. Another inherited my darkness. Another inherited my chains. And one inherited the hunger itself.”

Ronan staggered as the forgotten child stirred inside him.

He’s lying, the child whispered. He gave us the hunger because he wanted to be free.

The man heard the voice.

For a moment, his expression became almost relieved.

“There you are, my little heart.”

Ronan’s chest burned.

“Stay away from him!”

The black void in Father’s eye widened.

“Your brother was never meant to live inside you, Ronan. He was meant to replace me.”

Seratha cried out, “Stop!”

But Father continued.

“When I died, the prison began to fail. Your mother divided the Firstborn’s heart to delay the end. She hid the hunger inside you and erased the daughter who could awaken it.”

Lyra backed away.

“You mean me?”

“You were the key,” Father whispered. “Your seventh heartbeat can open every prison ever created.”

The black hands suddenly tore free.

Father collapsed, his body crumbling into golden dust.

Behind him stood a colossal figure without a face, its body woven from dead stars. Silver chains hung from its wrists, each chain ending in a screaming world.

It turned toward Lyra.

And every soul in the chamber spoke through its mouth.

“Daughter, give me back my heart.”

Ronan seized Lyra’s hand.

But she did not move.

Because the voice inside her answered first.

“Father, I’ve missed you.”