Vathis: Ashes of the Forsaken

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A Father's Sins, A Son's Hunger

The night was cold.

The winds whispered through the broken halls of Malik's fortress, carrying the echoes of screams long forgotten.

But within the dimly lit chamber, where books of forbidden knowledge lined the walls, where blood once sealed fate, the only sound left—

Was hunger.

Aeron stood there, his body twisting, flesh rippling like something unnatural lurked beneath his skin.

He was no longer human.

His breath came in ragged, inhuman gasps. His elongated claws trembled, not with fear—but anticipation.

Before him, Malik—**once a warrior, once a father, once a man of unwavering conviction—**stood motionless.

His blade was drawn, but for the first time in his life—his hands shook.

For the first time, he knew fear.

Because the thing before him—this cursed child, this abomination—

Was something he himself had created.

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The Weight of the Past

"Aeron…"

Malik spoke his son's name, but the word felt foreign on his tongue.

There was no love in it.

No warmth.

Just realization.

The realization that this was fate.

This was judgment.

Aeron's form shifted, the curse writhing within him like a beast trapped in mortal flesh.

His eyes—**once bright, once human—**were now hollow pits of hunger.

And yet—beneath it—

Something still recognized him.

"You… did this to me."

The voice was not entirely Aeron's.

It was layered, fractured—a thousand voices speaking as one.

Malik's chest tightened.

Because he knew.

He had tried to control fate.

To seal his son's true power. To shape him into something lesser, something manageable.

To keep him from becoming a monster.

And now—

Because of him—

Aeron had become something even worse.

---

The Devourer Awakens

"I should have killed you the moment you were born."

The words came too fast.

They spilled from Malik's lips before he could stop them.

But Aeron heard them.

And something snapped.

The room shuddered.

The air grew heavy.

The walls cracked as an invisible force pulsed outward.

Aeron's body twisted, stretched, cracked.

The hunger was no longer inside him.

It was him.

Malik raised his blade—but it was already too late.

Aeron lunged.

Malik slashed—

But the blade passed through nothing.

Aeron was already behind him.

A monstrous hand grabbed Malik's shoulder, claws digging deep into flesh.

And then—his jaw unhinged.

Teeth—**countless, endless, shifting teeth—**sank into Malik's side.

Malik gasped.

Pain erupted through his body.

He tried to pull away—but he couldn't.

Because something was pulling him in.

---

The Price of His Sins

Malik's breath hitched.

His body—his very existence—was being consumed.

Not just his flesh.

Not just his bones.

His memories. His power. His soul.

He had spent his life shaping fate, stealing away what was not his to control.

Now—

Fate was stealing him.

His vision blurred.

His strength drained.

And the last thing he saw—

Was Aeron's face.

Not the son he had raised.

Not the child he had feared.

But something far beyond mortal comprehension.

Something ancient.

Something infinite.

Then—

Darkness.

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The End of Malik, The Rise of the Devourer

When it was over, Aeron stood alone.

There was nothing left of Malik.

No corpse.

No blood.

Just silence.

The hunger inside him roared.

But this time—

For the first time—

It felt full.

Aeron breathed in, tasting the echoes of his father's existence.

And then—

He walked forward.

Because the world was still waiting.

And there was so much more to devour.

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The Village of No Return

Night fell, and Aeron wandered.

The hunger was sated, but only for now.

The deeper part of him, the true monster, was still lurking.

Waiting.

And as he walked through the silent roads of a nearby village, he knew—

This peace would not last.

The people here were unaware.

Aeron saw them—farmers, merchants, children.

Living.

Breathing.

Existing.

And suddenly—

He couldn't stand it.

Something inside him twisted.

A memory surfaced—Selene's bloodied corpse, his father's mocking gaze.

His world had burned.

So why—why did they get to live?

The hunger returned.

Stronger.

Overpowering.

And before he could stop himself—

The first scream ripped through the air.

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A Feast of Flesh

Aeron moved without thought.

The first man he found—**a blacksmith, wide-eyed with confusion—**never even had time to react.

Aeron's claws ripped through his chest, and before the blood could even spill—

He devoured him.

Not just his body—his very existence.

And with it—

More.

More.

MORE.

The hunger roared.

And the village burned.

No one escaped.

Not the warriors.

Not the elders.

Not the children.

By the time the sun rose, the village was silent.

Empty.

Erased.

Nothing left but Aeron.

Standing in the ruins of what once was—

And realizing, for the first time—

That no matter how much he ate, no matter how much he consumed—

The hunger would never stop.

Because now, it wasn't just inside him.

It was him.