Two weeks later.
Ming Soo sat on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. The pale blue light from the screen illuminated his face, giving him an almost ghostly appearance in the dimly lit room. His aunt lounged lazily on the other side, sprawled across the cushions, one leg tucked under the other, the other foot propped against the armrest. The soft whir of the ceiling fan stirred the air, blending with the distant hum of city life outside.
"Want something to eat?" she asked, her tone more yawn than question, as if speaking required more energy than she had to spare.
Ming Soo glanced at her, smirking slightly. "Not if you're the one cooking."
She arched a brow, rolling over to face him. "Who said anything about cooking?"
"Still," he shrugged, eyes on the screen, "I'd rather not tempt fate. My stomach's still recovering from last time."
She gave him a mock glare, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Ungrateful brat."
A soft chuckle escaped him, but he didn't look up.
Her eyes narrowed. "What are you smiling at? Are you texting someone special?"
"Mind your business," he shot back without missing a beat.
"You're blushing."
"No, I'm not!" His ears turned pinker with the denial.
She laughed, a light and teasing sound. "Caught you."
"Can't a guy smile without being interrogated?" he muttered.
She shifted upright, brushing her hair out of her face. "What are your plans after this little break?"
"College," Ming Soo replied, his gaze now fixed on some distant point beyond the screen. "Get the degree. Become a surgeon. Cut people open for a living."
Her nose wrinkled. "Hearing you say that gives me goosebumps."
He laughed, a sound more genuine than any he'd made in weeks.
She watched him for a moment, her smile faltering ever so slightly. "When are you heading out?"
"I don't know," he admitted with a shrug. "When I'm ready, I guess."
A silence fell between them, quiet but not uncomfortable. She broke it softly. "I'll learn how to cook by then. I'll make you something decent before you go."
"Please don't," he groaned dramatically. "I still have flashbacks from the last time."
She rolled her eyes and stood up, stretching with a feline grace. "You'll eat my food and like it one day, you ungrateful little gremlin."
"Not in this lifetime," he shot back with a grin.
As she disappeared into her room, Ming Soo leaned back into the couch cushions. A fond smile crept over his face, but it didn't last.
Suddenly, the air in the room changed.
A chill seeped into his bones, uninvited and unnatural. The ambient sounds of the city and fan faded, swallowed by an eerie stillness. His chest constricted, breath hitching as a strange pressure crushed down on him.
He clutched at his heart, eyes widening. It felt like something was tearing loose inside him, like some ancient lock was breaking open. His phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor.
Shadows lengthened unnaturally across the walls, writhing like living things. Each breath came with effort, like inhaling shards of glass. His blood boiled in his veins, bones aching with invisible pressure. His skin prickled with energy far beyond human comprehension.
Then the pain came.
Searing. Blinding. Like a lance of fire impaling his chest and lifting him off the couch.
His body arched, spine bowing under the surge of unnatural force. Crimson tears trickled from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. A scream tore free from his throat, raw, guttural, and filled with something beyond agony. It echoed off the walls, vibrating through the floor.
And then...
Darkness.
His subconscious drifted in a void. Cold. Suffocating. Eternal.
From the depths of that nothingness, a figure emerged.
She stepped into view like a memory long buried. Tall. Regal. Ethereal.
Her form flickered between human and fox—a celestial duality. Long, silvery hair flowed like starlight, her fox ears twitching atop her head. A thick, silken tail curled behind her, glowing faintly in the dark. Her eyes were molten silver, glowing like moonlight on still water. She carried herself like a goddess, an ancient, quiet storm.
She knelt before him, her voice inaudible, but her presence comforting and terrifying all at once. A whisper of identity stirred at the edge of his consciousness.
Then...
Light.
Ming Soo jolted awake in his bed, gasping as if surfacing from deep water. Sweat soaked through his sheets.
His aunt sat beside him, pale and tense, her crimson eyes full of worry. A third figure stood in the corner, arms crossed, face unreadable. Lornad.
"Isn't this a good thing?" Lornad asked, voice cool and amused.
She glared at him, but didn't respond.
"You're worried," he said flatly. "But you can't protect him forever. He was born a demon. It's time he lived like one."
Her jaw clenched.
"Afraid he'll surpass you?" Lornad tilted his head, smirking. "Or is it that you're afraid of what he'll become?"
"Shut up," she growled, her voice low and dangerous.
Lornad shrugged, already dissolving into smoke. "You'll regret holding him back."
With that, he vanished.
Silence returned.
His aunt leaned over, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. Her hand trembled.
Now that his aura's exposed… the exorcists will sense it. His life will never be the same.
"I'm sorry, Ming," she whispered. "I never wanted this for you."
Her fingers hovered above his chest, glowing softly with a crimson light. She began the Restriction Process.
The restriction process involved channeling her qi like threads of energy, weaving them into the subject's nervous system. These threads acted like seals, locking away the flow of demon qi from circulating freely. Done correctly, it masked the demonic aura, making the subject undetectable to exorcists and other supernatural trackers.
Her energy glowed as it seeped into his skin, flowing into his veins and nerves, wrapping around key points. The process required precision, knowledge, and a steady heart. She moved carefully, linking the crimson strands in place like a spider spinning silk.
But something was wrong.
Her qi, normally responsive and fluid, was being pulled, forcefully.
Drawn into Ming Soo's body like a dam had broken.
Her eyes widened. "No… this isn't right."
She snapped the connection, gasping, falling back against the chair.
Sweat beaded her forehead. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"He's devouring my qi… like it's nothing," she murmured. "It's like trying to fill an ocean with a teacup."
Her gaze fell on his peaceful face.
"A normal demon wouldn't react like this… only one born of something far worse."
She swallowed hard.
"Only the devil himself would produce a son like this."
Her voice trembled with awe and dread.
She reached out again, brushing his cheek.
"All that's left is for you to wake up, Ming."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"When you do… everything changes."