It is when Tyki is called to the front of the mansion that he knows that something is wrong. He rushes past the ambassadors, past everyone else. His feet are fast and quick and his legs are strong.

When he gets to the front, though, that's when his legs give out.

Cyril is in the street, looking down at the woman lying below him. It is the same woman from a few days before, with her swollen belly and thin hands. Her eyes are glazed over, blood running from her mouth. Cyril's are as well, but his hands are shaking as he reaches down for her hand.

And that is when Tyki sees the blood on his hands.

Tyki is there in a flash, regaining control over his legs. He grasps the spider-fingers and begins to pull his brother away.

"Cyril," he mutters, even as his brother stares at the body. "Cyril, we have to leave. We're making a scene." His brother does not respond, though he allows himself to be pulled. "Cyril, come on."

The little girl is on the street now as well. As she stares down at the woman that was her mother, she begins to cry. Silent tears, tears that flow soundlessly from her eyes and onto the corpse of her mother as she screams, screams and screams as she reaches down and shakes her mother hard.

"Mommy!" she screams. "Mommy, wake up! Mommy!"

Cyril is still staring at the woman's corpse, and he flinches when he hears the girl's screams. Tyki still pulls at him, pulls until the brother's are inside. "Close the doors," he orders the guards, and they do.

It is when they are both inside their room that Cyril finally collapses.

"Deus," Tyki mumbles under his breath, pulling at his brother. "Deus, brother, get up!"

Cyril does not respond. His hands are trembling, still coated in the drying copper blood. He does not look as though he will cry—more as if he wants a knife in his hand. A curved, sharp knife.

"All right," Tyki grumbles, "up you go." He wraps his arms under his brother and pulls him into the bed. "There," he says, sighing, sitting next to his brother and pulling him close. "It's going to be all right."

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Cyril is mute, eyes wide and glazed over. Tyki simply waits in fear.

And then: "I killed her."

Tyki looks down at his brother. He does not seem like his elder brother anymore—he is too weak, too drained for that. "I know," he says quietly, and he knows that they are not just talking about the woman in the street. "I know, brother."

When Cyril looks up at Tyki, the younger man can see that he is weeping.

"I killed my daughter."

Deus: 'God' in Portuguese.

Well, well, an early release. I purposefully made this chapter a bit choppy and less smooth than the others to fit with the emotion. Frantic, panicked, afraid. Nothing's never really smooth with those emotions, so I made this one like that as well. I hope I succeeded? And everything will be explained the next chapter, so please be patient.

Zenophobia: Hopefully he will. :( But don't count on it, I'm not that kind. And thank you!

Kibahshi: A few weeks, not that long. :D And it's okay, technology is evil. Thank you for the review! And I hope I shall.