Chapter Text
The tomb opened with a burst of cold air that nearly sent everyone flying back.
The Demon Bull King growled, peeking inside the now open vault, “Bones…?” he said softly in disbelief before growling, “Bones, nothing but old bones!”
“Well this was a waste of time.” Iron Fan sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Suddenly from behind her, she heard the start of a pained shout from Red Son before it was abruptly cut off. She whirled around to see him stumble backwards, like a puppet with cut strings.
“Red Son?” she frowned, taking a step towards him.
He stood back up as he caught himself, looking up at her with a smile that was just a bit too wide, “I’m fine Mother,” he said, “Just got a chill is all.”
That… didn’t sound like him. It was his voice, but the inflection was strange. Before she could ask what was wrong, however, her husband huffed.
“See if there’s anything useful that can be learned from this old thing,” he ordered his son, “It must have something to do with the power source I felt.”
“Of course, Father.” Red Son nodded with that same eerie smile, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked over and began ordering the Bull Clones around.
“Does he seem… different to you?” Iron Fan asked her husband.
He arched a brow at her, scoffing, “If he is, I hope it’s because he won’t fail us for once.”
She frowned, looking back at her son as he worked on moving the tomb with the Bull Clones.
Night fell, bitter wind howling through the city as if whispering a warning.
Red Son sat down at his vanity, staring at his image in the mirror. A voice like a soft winter’s breeze whispered in his ear.
“You’re right,” he nodded in agreement, letting his hair down, “It’s time to stop holding myself back.”