Chapter 2

When she next woke, it was to the feeling of her body being gently rocked back and forth by what felt like two tiny hands. Cracking an eye open ever so slightly, she was greeted by the sight of an 'ecstatic' 4-year-old inches away from her face—the 'excitement' shown from the way the boy bounced on the balls of his feet at her awakening instead of showing it through normal human expressions.

"Onee-san, you promised we'd play a game this time."

"...It would seem I did." The Divine sighed, raising her head from the stone it'd been perched on before stretching her limbs wide to release any tension she'd gained during her nap. "Well, I am a Divine of my word, so I will indulge as promised. Come. Sit, Child." With just a thought, a wooden table and a stool appeared before them. Sitting up, Sothis made another jester for the boy to sit, which he did with vigor, circling around to hop on the taller stool across from her. Practically bouncing in his seat, the boy looked at Sothis expectantly.

"What are we playing, Onee-san?"

"Since I do not know of any games to entertain children, we will be playing a tabletop game that was famous in my realm." With yet another mental image, a board appeared on the table between the two. The board, 8x8 in inches with funny black and white patterns covering the top, held small pieces of what looked to be horses, castles, and other pillars the boy was not familiar with. The boy blinked owlishly at the board before looking back up at his friend confusedly.

"What's this game called, Onee-san?"

"This, Child, is known from my home as the game of 'chess'. It was invented by one of my sons as a way to pass the time while improving strategic capabilities. It was inspired by a kids game known as Checkers and later evolved into what you see before you. It grew to be quite popular over time. Mass gatherings had even been organized, where some of the greatest minds across Fodlan attended to compete for the title known as 'Grandmaster of the Board'. Though the game had very few applications in real war, it challenged the minds of both players and their ability to think multiple steps ahead. It's not really a game meant for children your age, but it is the only version of it that I can tolerate sitting through."

"Wooooooaah... I bet you were really good at this game, Onee-san?"

A haughty sniff was her reply. "I had better things to do than sit around and play tabletop games."

The boy's owlish stare hadn't diminished despite the haughtiness.

"...So, you weren't that good?"

The Divine's haughtiness was suddenly replaced by a different kind of arrogance. Hands on her hips, chest puffed, and chin high, she looked the picture definition of a cocky noble as she said, "I'll have you know that I was more than adequate. Though many humans and races gathered looking to spread their name, only a few ever came close to besting me. To this day, I remain undefeated—one of the many accomplishments I carry with pride."

If the Divine wasn't too busy reminiscing in her glory, she would have caught the skepticism even through the boy's placid features. "But you said you didn't play, Onee-san? How did you get so good if you didn't practice?"

"Hmph! As if I needed practice. From the moment I picked up my first piece, I knew the game was meant for me. My pieces practically move themselves into the correct positions—baffling even myself at times. I was so good at this game that it became somewhat of a 'right of passage' to be defeated by me. I remember my youngest, Seiros, would practically drag Daphne to the table every morning to play. I swear, the faces Seiros used to make when she lost were of incalculable value. She was never good at the game, but held a determination unrivaled by her siblings. If only I could...could..."

Sothis trailed off, suddenly remembering where she was. The blonde, however, did not seem to mind his friend reminiscening the past and said, "You sound like you really liked your family, Onee-san."

"...Yeah." She said wistfully.

"Onee-san?"

"Hm?"

"What's it like to have a family?" The way his friend looked at him made him fear she would not answer, which became relief when she did.

"Do you not know the feeling of having kin?" It was no real surprise that the boy shook his head. She knew he was an orphan and had no friends, yet surely he knew of his own parents, right?

The shake of his head answered that quickly enough. "I never knew my parents. I was an orphan from the beginning. The kids at the orphanage think I'm weird, so they don't play with me, and the caretakers don't like me for some reason. I was very lonely until I met you."

Despite the confession, Sothis did not feel sympathy. He was but a child that was dealt a bad hand. Many unfortunate souls were like him back in her world, and there would likely be many more. The only thing that set him apart from the others was the fact that he was born special. What else do you call a child such as him and his 'situation'?

"...I suppose a family is like having one, or many, around you that support, care for, and love you unconditionally." She started, deciding to answer the boy's query. "Depending on your role, it means to be better and do better for your loved ones. As a mother, I was responsible for setting an example for my Children. Children grow through observation, so my actions reflect my children. Being with them, raising them, was a joy I cannot even put into words. Being around them, as well as watching as they grew into their own, brought me happiness. I cannot hope to understand what it is like to be a child, but I do know that family is there for you to lean on and be a pillar to build from."

"Woooooah." The blonde whispered dreamily at the end of his friend's explanation, not even he expecting such an in-depth explanation from the usually stern woman. "I want a family now." He declared, something building within him.

"Family isn't something you can simply have on a whim, Child. It most cases, you are born with it. In your case, you must first be fostered into one through adoption. If that fails, then you must build one of your own."

"How do I do that, Onee-san?" Sothis paused, noticing subtle twitches of excitement showing on the boy's face.

"To create one's own, it is typically done through marriage. After marriage, other 'means' are required...that of which you are too young to understand the complexity of, nor am I willing to explain any further." Deciding that was a good place to stop, the Divine brought their attention back to the board, the way the boy deflated bringing no joy to her. She was only halfway through opening her mouth to explain when the boy interrupted her.

"Can I ask one more thing, Onee-san?"

"...Go ahead, Child," She waved, trying to hide her frustration at being interrupted.

"What is love?"

The question honestly caused her pause. It was not one she was expecting from a child, nor was she prepared to answer. The sheer complexity of it was such that not even she understood, yet has undoubtedly felt it many times before in her life. A hand came to massage her chin as she thought about the best way to answer such a difficult question.

"It is, joy, I suppose? It is sometimes unconditional, all-encompassing, timeless and expansive, something that even a Divine cannot truly explain. It is a feeling that must be experienced to be understood. As a mother, I loved my children to the point I was willing to fulfill their every need, guide them through whatever, and protect them more fiercely. It was a feeling I don't think I've ever felt before. It is a force like no other, and is said to be the most powerful emotion one could feel. I cannot explain it further than that."

The blonde sat with rapt attention as his friend spoke. He didn't understand the feeling she was talking about, but it intrigued him.

Just like that, questions began to form in his head. If it was truly as powerful as she said, then could it fix him? Would he be like the others if he felt this 'love'?

It was with that thought that a realization came to him.

"I would do anything for you, Onee-san. Does that mean I love you?"

His friend's eyes went flat. "You've barely known me a week, Child. One is not capable of developing such a bond within such a short timeframe."

"...Then, how can I love you?"

"I cannot answer that, Child. It is something only you can." The more she answered, the more the blonde did not like the answer. It led to a question he wasn't so sure he wanted an answer for.

"Do you, not love me, Onee-san?"

"I consider you company, Child, but I do not love you. As I've said before, that takes time. You are not one of my children, so I do not bear the same unconditional love I held for them." The admission made him feel something ugly. He didn't understand what it was, but he knew he didn't like it. Yet still, he held on to her previous words, almost desperate.

"Then, will you eventually love me?"

"...It is a possibility." The words immediately erased the ugliness inside. "I may harbor no feelings of love for you now, but the same cannot be said for the future. Nevertheless, we are one. I am likely to be with you till your end, so it is inevitable that I feel some way towards you before your life comes to an end. Just pray that 'hate' isn't one of them."

A determined glint came to the boy's face as he said, "You're all I have, so I want to love you, and you love me, Onee-san." The boy's confession brought a smirk to the Divine's face.

"That is the future, but this is now," she pointed back to the game board, the blonde following along after his curiosity was sated. "This here is the Pawn. It can only move forward two squares at the beginning, and one after-"

Konohagakure

Orphanage

Suzuki Yami had many ambitions in life, most of which were fulfilled while the rest lay in hiatus until further notice. Everything she'd ever set out to accomplish had been given the time and dedication she thought prudent for the task. If she wanted a certification, she put in the work to get it. If she wanted a job, she was not above playing dirty to make sure she was the best candidate. If she wanted a one-night stand, she knew exactly what bar to go to and who to chat up. She learned from a young age that nothing in this life was given to you, and the actions you took to achieve success always bore fruit in some way, shape, or form. Her father had always told her to 'work hard in the present so you don't have to in the future' and she'd taken those words to heart to this day.

At age 24, she'd gotten her own merchant license and was only days away from opening the store she'd invested in.

That is, until she utterly and royally screwed up.

No one is perfect. People often chase perfection and are never truly satisfied despite the time, money, and effort they put into it. Yami's lack of perfection was all too clear the day she made but one simple mistake and destroyed her business before it could even open. A mistake that not only cost her the biggest opportunity in her life but also dropped her back down to square one. She became penniless, jobless, and if not for her father, nearly homeless. The tears she shed the day she ended up back on her father's doorstep were the longest she'd ever shed since her mother's funeral. It felt horrible—like she'd lost her very purpose to live. Like she was trapped in a pool of misery with no one to pull her out.

But, as they say, that's life, and when it kicks you down, you are expected to get back up or end up like those bums in the slums.

Though her dreams of becoming a merchant were forever shattered, the connections she made during her rise proved to have pulled her through. Though she could no longer pursue her dream job, the job that was offered to her was arguably a more fulfilling path. Good hours, safe environment, decent pay, great staff, and all she had to do was watch some kids? It didn't get any easier than that.

Though some of her ambitions remained unfulfilled, she could honestly say she didn't regret it. At age 28, she was still single and had no kids to her name, but after working in an orphanage for 6 years and dealing with the little devils for over 12 hours a day, she could say with full confidence that motherhood just wasn't for her. She worked here at the orphanage for the paycheck, and she was not ashamed to say so. It paid her bills, kept her off the street, and away from shinobi activities. That's how she liked her life—stress-free and away from any real danger.

That is, until the Kyuubi attack.

Yami knew firsthand how life could change over night. Her first taste of it was when her mother died. Being a shinobi, her mother and father both knew the very real likelihood that at any moment she wouldn't come home. It was a reality that they both accepted and went through with their marriage despite her father being a civilian. Despite their adversity, they bought their own house, built their own small business, and had her.

Then her mother died in the war. She was only 9 at the time and didn't understand why her mother was never coming home, but her father was always there for her and did his best to fill the gap her mother left despite working himself to the bone. Shortly after, her father lost his business, and he had to find new work to pay off the house. Despite that though, her father made sure to make enough money to send her to school. Her meals at home were nothing compared to the years before her mother's death and the business flopping, but knowing her father was doing everything for her future was something she could never repay him for. The loss of her career was definitely a setback, but the gain she got from losing it was hardly a loss at all.

The Kyuubi attack, however, put all her previous experiences to shame by a large margin.

She got lucky that night. Instead of going home, she decided to take an extra night shift with the orphanage's keeper and pull in a little overtime to help ease her father's shoulders a bit with the bills.

It was that very same decision that saved her life but cost her the last moments she would ever have with her father.

The orphanage had been far enough away from the attack to not have been hit when the Kyuubi attacked, but the damn beast practically landed on her house and destroyed everything and everyone within the vicinity. Her father, her remaining living relative, was gone—crushed under his own home, no doubt in his sleep. If that didn't make things even worse, the orphanage's keeper had been killed by flying debris while trying to escort the children to the shelters; the sight of her being decapitated just yards away still haunts her to this day.

Days later, she was all too aware of how her life had changed once again. Being the last of her family held a weight on her shoulders far heavier than she'd ever thought possible. Going to work became even more of a chore than it was previously, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a genuine smile.

Then the Hokage himself came to the orphanage. The grandfatherly old man known as Hiruzen Sarutobi walked right up to her one day as she was tending to the garden with a woman she'd never seen before and a bundle of sheets in the old man's arms. She remembered being so surprised that she'd embarrassingly dropped the watering pot, spilling its contents into the grass. She remembered stuttering helplessly as the Hokage laughed her off and asked to come inside. She remembered sending all the kids to the playroom for the rest of the day while her and the rest of the staff gathered in the staff room. She remembered accompanying the Hokage introducing herself as the new orphanage's Keeper. She remembered the new rules and procedures being placed into order—specifically for the child in the Hokage's arms. She remembered asking just who the kid was that was being brought into their orphanage. She remembered the serious look that crossed the new Keeper and Hokage's face before four masked men appeared in the room and 'sealed' them inside.

Then she remembered the Hokage revealing the 'not so secret' secret behind the boy in his arms.

Half the staff quit that day, leaving about 8 keepers to watch over 76 newly orphaned children among the 31 that were already present. It was a choice given to them by the Hokage after the big reveal and the fear he no doubt saw in their eyes. Soon after, there was one hand in the air. Then another. And another. And another. And another. Until there were only eight out of the 20 still employed. She was sure that, just like her, the only reason the rest of them didn't quit was because they had no other job to go to. Most of the ones who'd quit were either young and still had other options available to them, or too old to deal with the shitstorm that would come with their new orphan.

She remembered the Hokage firmly stating that the safety of the child was in their hands and they were to make sure no harm or mistreatment would come to him if at all possible. He said it so firmly that it almost sounded like a threat—a threat Yami wasn't dumb enough to not take heed of. If they wanted the immortal super demon that had not only killed her father, but just over 200 shinobi and 400 citizens, then who was she to speak up against the man who apparently knew what was best for the village? She would do her job as a caretaker and have as little interaction with the little demon as possible. That was the plan, at least.

However, as time progressed and wounds failed to heal, she became all too aware that the baby wasn't exactly what you'd call 'normal'. For one, the whiskers on the boy's face were a dead giveaway to who he was. The only other thing that could possibly give it away more would be a sign slapped on his back saying 'I'm the Kyuubi'. The other fact that wasn't very noticeable was that the bangs of the kid's hair seemed to have just changed over night. Once showing signs of blonde growth, it suddenly morphed into a bright light green in the front. When the new keeper saw the demon's sudden transformation, the boy disappeared from the orphanage for over a month. He appeared shortly after, but it was still a weird experience that ended up being nothing.

Then came the glaringly obvious trait that screamed 'abnormal'.

Babies did not have a form of communication per se. However, when there is something wrong with them or they are feeling anything in particular, the most obvious sign they give is crying. It tells whoever is around that there is something either wrong or something they desperately need, which gives humans the signal to tend to their needs.

This kid, however, hadn't let out so much as a yelp since he'd arrived.

It absolutely terrified the rest of the staff, she more so. He had never, ever, shed even a single year. He had not shown anger, joy, hate, or empathy for Kami's sake! It was as if he had not been born with the ability to show any emotion other than the neutral stare glued permanently to his face.

Then again, what exactly were they to expect from a demon? The demon could probably be plotting all their demises and no one would ever know. He could be learning all their ways through sight alone while shutting down all other functions to save energy. Then, once all their guards were down, he would take the form of the nearest human he knew all the functions of and 'replace' them when the opportunity arose.

The idea was completely and utterly ludicrous and probably just her paranoia as the daughter of a kunoichi, but what else was she supposed to think when there's a living bomb at her place of work and she couldn't tell a soul about it even if everyone else also knows it?

Nothing; apparently. And that's exactly how it remained four years later.

The boy was older now, coming to just below her knee in height with a poker face that could put even the best gambler to shame. To absolutely no one's surprise, the demon's social skills were nonexistent, and the other kids regularly avoided him.

Not from anything it did, mind you. In fact, she'd seen on many occasions where the demon tried socializing with the rest of the kids but fell flat—in some cases, literally.

But Yami was smart. If it was a demon and it was recording everything that had been done and said to it even in its younger years, then she didn't want to be the first one it came after personally in the future when it reached full maturity. Looking out for herself more than anything else, she interacted with it.

The first and obviously glaring problem was that it barely knew how to converse. It was probably an act—it patiently waiting for her to put her guard down with its ignorance before taking her soul in a back alley, but over time she wasn't too sure if it was an act or not. Despite it showing no emotion, there was a clear cloud of depression hanging over it whenever it watched the other kids play.

So, in an act of stupidity, she decided to teach it how to read and speak. It was her duty, and she did it out of fear, not kindness. No one else would do it, so it was the perfect opportunity for her to get some brownie points with the thing before it inevitably killed everything around it once it regained its true form. Maybe it would spare her, or kill her quickly and painlessly when remembering this small act of kindness...maybe...

Either way, to absolutely no one's surprise, the thing picked things up easily. She had only started teaching it for a week, and the very words she taught it were being spit out into sentences within the month. A month later, it was writing in perfect Kanji! Kanji drawn leagues better than her at that age! Ain't that some shit? It took her years of practice and handwork to get her handwriting legible and the demon did it in less than a month! How is that fair?

It would also seem that training the thing had some unforetold consequences.

She had told herself that she was simply being kind to the demon to preserve her own life instead of out of the kindness of her heart. She thought there was nothing wrong with that, seeing that it was just human nature to want to preserve your own life over others.

However, she should have known that not everyone would be as smart as her. Her co-workers had on numerous occasions tried 'dissuading' her from teaching the demon human tongue, but she shrugged them off. They were all either too scared of the demon and what would happen to them if they were close or too blinded by their own hatred to see the bigger picture. This wasn't about kindness, but necessity. If she wanted to die a painless death or live in whatever 'utopia' the demon makes of the land after its eventual rise to resurrections, then she didn't want to be the one remembered negatively. Nothing more, nothing less, for the umpteenth time!

As expected, they began to distance themselves from her, along with nearly everyone outside of the orphanage as well. Names like 'demon lover' or 'demon whore' have begun making their way to her ears almost daily now. But that was OK. Yomi didn't have many friends to begin with. Her father was her only true friend, and he was killed by the same thing that was so powerful and wise it lived dating back to the Rikudou Sennin himself. That meant it was immortal and was more than willing to hold a grudge seeing that it waited nearly 100 years to get revenge on Konoha after its defeat by the First Hokage. If losing a couple of friends is the price to pay for her survival, then so be it.

But that wasn't all. 'Fraternizing' with the demon unintentionally made the thing prefer her company to the other kids and workers. To be honest, she didn't know what to think of that. She was happy that the demon had finally noticed her efforts, even if she couldn't see exactly what it thought of her through that poker face it wore, but she also didn't know if she should fear what exactly it was planning for her. If it was a nice demon (which chances of that being true were slim to none), then she'd succeeded in her mission, and her survival for the future was all but guaranteed. However, if it wasn't so benevolent, then she could only hope whatever it had planned for her would be quick and painless.

But that was the future, and this was now.

Now included was her watching the thing move different shapes of rocks and pebbles on a checkered pattern written neatly in the dirt.

It looked like a Shogi board, but the moves it would make with the pieces and the arrangement of said pieces at the beginning of the game were foreign to her. At a glance, it would simply look like a kid had created a game of his own and was entertaining himself.

But this was no boy.

The game was no doubt one he'd played many times, seeing the fluidity in which it moved the pieces and analyzing which move would be good and which wouldn't. A game that looked to challenge the mind, however limited it may be while playing by itself.

The demon looked up to her and she immediately put on the joyless smile she'd always given. What the thing did in its spare time was of no importance to her.

What was important was her survival, and nothing would get in the way of that.

Fodlan

Hevring

Byleth knew she was different.

She was only 7, but stood out in a crowd like a red stain on white robes. For one, her hair was blue. Not the most unnatural color out there, but it was more than enough to draw the eye. The second was her utter lack of presence. That may seem weird considering her previous statement, but that was more of a visual thing. Most highly trained fighters and mages were able to instinctively feel the mana in the air to tell if there were people nearby. The mana in their bodies would resonate with the mana around them and act somewhat like a beacon. It was difficult to perform, and very few people were able to always have it on, but even the few who did, for whatever reason, did not think the same logic applied to her. She was like a ghost—a very visible ghost whose permanent poker face did not help her case. It seemed to terrify those same amazing fighters, but she was still too young to truly understand why.

The last two, and most glaringly obvious, things you'd see the moment you saw her were the four marks on her cheeks that closely resembled whiskers—the second being the permanent ink on her stomach that held strangely patterned symbols the likes of which no one in Fodlan had likely ever seen.

But believe it or not, she didn't always look like this. In fact, it was only a few days ago when she was completely normal—well, more 'normal' than she is now, at least.

It was just like any other day. Her father had needed some supplies before they could continue on their next mission to Rusalka. She wanted to ask her father what type of mission it was since they were traveling all the way there from Hevring, but decided against it since she knew he'd reply the way he always does: It's adult business, kiddo. You'll know when we get there'.

Anyway, she had been told to wait outside the smithy where they were currently getting their supplies. Being the kid she was, her attention span wavered easily and she quickly grew bored of the toy sword her father had given her to keep her occupied while he worked. She wanted to play with someone, but the only one who was usually willing, her guard at the time, Finnie, was too busy doing 'adult talk' with the flower girl across the street (despite being a girl herself). Bored and out of options, she decided to take a walk around the small village. She figured if she got lost, all she had to do was ask the nearest villager to point her in the right direction to her father. After wondering for about 30 minutes, Finnie, who looked out of breath and was sweating profusely, found her and gave her a harsh scolding before dragging her back to the smithy.

However, halfway there, Byleth began to feel… wrong. She couldn't describe the feeling at the time considering she wasn't privy to a whole lot due to her age, but it felt like something was twisting in her heart-

No, the problem was her heart.

For as long as she lived, she never heard it beat. Not even once. Now, it was suddenly beating really fast. Faster than even she thought it was supposed to beat for a normal human being. It didn't hurt, but it felt very uncomfortable. Scared, she had reached out to ask Finnie if she knew what was wrong with her body. Finnie was a leech, but she was really smart at times and Byleth was sure she would know what was going on.

That's when her body jerked, and she began to feel the worst pain she would ever experience in her life. She had fallen to the ground and began writhing while screaming at the top of her lungs from the agony she was feeling in her chest. It felt like someone was reaching into her chest and pulling out her heart. She remembered the tears running down her face and the absolutely terrified look on Finnie's face as she panicked to find a solution to her sudden agony.

She could barely see through blurry eyes, but something else was apparently happening since she saw multiple blurs run past her. Finnie was looking even more distraught, and eventually picked her up and began running with her somewhere that was, hopefully, her father. If anyone knew, then her father would know what to do about the pain she was feeling that was not going away.

Not even a minute into their run, she was dropped harshly on the ground and rolled a few meters before coming to a stop on her stomach. The pain had now stretched to her entire body, and it felt like she was on fire. She just wanted the pain to stop. She wanted her father—no, anyone—to stop the pain she was feeling. She opened her eyes desperately and looked through her tears to find anyone who would be her savior.

What she saw instead was something she wished she could forget every day. Finnie, her blonde strands painted to her face by the sweat, was staring right back at her with wide eyes that held no light. Despite the pain, Byleth was able to scan down the woman's face and would throw up if she could at the sight. Her entire body, from the neck down, was gone. But more than her body, it was where her body was that raised the already distraught girl's fear to the max.

A…beast, for a lack of a better word, was tearing and ripping apart what used to be Finnie's body. The monster towered over her easily and had a width of about 4 meters and length of over 8. It's entire skin was blackened, and bones outlined its dark skin. Past this monster, there were multiple other similar monsters raiding the village and attacking anything that moved. She was sure some of the mercenaries were fighting off the beasts invading this place and could scream for help, but she was too focused on the monster tearing her friend apart and the pain she was still in to think properly.

Then the monster turned its gaze to her, and she felt real fear. Its red eyes were locked on her, and she could do nothing but shake in place. It suddenly began sniffing the air as if looking for something on her. As if finding a better meal, it casually tossed away the mangled corpse in its opposable hands and slowly walked towards her.

She would never forget that moment. She felt fear, pain, and anguish, but as the monster grew closer and closer, the pain began to become more and more bearable until a new emotion began bubbling in her gut.

Rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. Rage for that monster for taking away one of her friends, rage for the people these things killed mercilessly, and rage for all the pain she was in. She just felt, so, angry!

She didn't see her skin reddening. She didn't see the bubbling aura erupt from her body. She didn't see the scarred whisker marks forming on her face become more feral.

All she saw was red.

Then she was on all fours and charging right at the beast that had killed one of her friends.

It didn't even get a chance to put up a fight. It was tackled to its back with the force of a wind spell. She began to use her now-elongated nails to tear open the beast while it writhed in agony. She did not stop clawing at its stomach, throat, and anything else she could get her hands on until it was no longer moving.

Once it stopped moving, she moved like an enchanted arrow towards the next big beast and did the exact same, disregarding the little humans that got injured by standing in her way. These beasts needed to pay for killing her friend, and she wouldn't stop until every last one of them was dead.

When all had been slain, she stood huffing in the middle of a bloodied village. Multiple corpses, both human and monster, lay at her feet while she was covered head to toe with the blood of both. Those who got in her way were slain, and those who looked like monsters were slain. No one was given mercy because none deserved any.

Even the human that was slowly walking towards her. His orange armor, blonde hair and…familiar…

"D... Dad?"

It was the first time she'd heard her voice outside of the screaming she'd been doing since before her rampage. It was deep and sounded scarier than she'd ever remembered it being. This, this wasn't her. This couldn't be her!

She finally got a good look at her surroundings, and her eyes widened almost to inhuman proportions. The bubbly red aura had begun flowing to her stomach, disappearing completely soon after.

But she wasn't paying attention to that. All she could see was the destruction that was once a peaceful village. The bodies that lay motionless everywhere—some killed by the monsters, while the others…others…

Before she knew it, she was engulfed by strong arms. She glanced to her left and was met with a mop of blonde hair. Seconds later, she could hear soothing words being whispered into her ear, and tears began flowing down her cheeks for the second time in an hour. That day, she showed more emotion than she'd shown her entire life, and showed much more years after.

When next she woke, it was on something very hard. Blinking away the blurriness, she weakly pushed herself to her feet and absentmindedly acknowledged the fact that her body was no longer in pain while she checked her new surroundings. She had never seen a dungeon before in her short life. Most of what she'd heard of it were from stories told by the other mercenaries or Finnie jokingly saying she'd take her there if she was ever a bad girl.

Seeing the bars, bones, and chains that surrounding her immediately confirmed what was honestly one of her worst fears. Tears immediately began to build in her eyes, and her body shook uncontrollably at the reality. If not for the fact she was outside the bars instead of inside them or the fact she knew her father would never leave her in such a scary place, she would have already broken down.

Instead, she began her trek forward and through the scary dark halls. Aside from the sounds of rats and crickets, it would seem she was the only one here. The corridors were all narrow and seemed to go on forever, but after walking for what felt like hours, she could confirm that she was the only one here. She was about to start calling for her father, damn the consequences, when she saw the only stairway in her long walk. It seemed to go down, but she didn't yet know if it lead either deeper into the dungeon or out of it since there were no windows to check her landmarks. Torches lit the path all the way to a door below that seemed far too ominous for her liking.

Swallowing her fear, she pushed her shaking legs to the door and hoped the exit was down there. Sandaled feet echoed through the corridor all the way to the door that was a good 7 feet taller than herself. She feared she wouldn't be able to open it, but to her surprise, it opened easily despite her strength and size. With a single push, the door opened fully, and she immediately knew this wasn't the exit. The room she had opened was yet another dungeon—one almost 50 times larger than the one she's seen before. Bars so larger it looked as if it could hold back a dragon stood before her. Giant torches lit the room a soft golden color and made the darkness behind the bars even scarier than before.

Despite the fear she was feeling in this room and despite not being able to see just what those bars held behind them, Byleth stepped forward. She didn't know where the exit was, but she could only hope it was somewhere in this room.

Halfway through her search, movement had her suddenly frozen stiff. Slowly, she turned her head to look into the awaiting darkness once more.

A giant-no, titanic pair of red eyes looked back down at her, and for the second time in her life, her heart leaped into her throat. For the first time in many years, she lost control of her bladder.

And as the creature roared a name, she lost consciousness completely.

Thank you all for the follows and favorites. If you like this story, consider giving my other works a try. Reviews, both good and bad, give me motivation to write, so please keep them coming.

Current Age in Scene:

Byleth: 7 (11 in cannon)

Naruto:4