The Eldest of the Nephilim walked the halls of an ancient, weathered brick building. He wore what looked to be the same priest's garb, his hands clasped behind his back, he followed a young nun dressed in traditional black habits. Every few feet to their left and right stood entryways, some bare, some actually held doors. Out from most of them, occasionally, came the giggles or sobs of children, sometimes both at once.

"Sister Hirut told me a little, I think it's wonderful what you're doing," the nun said. "But what was it that drew you to this one?"

"I'm to understand he's struggled here," Kedar said. "We believe we could give him some more individualized attention. And, if all goes well, perhaps we could have a new member of the clergy. Replenishing our numbers is essential in theses increasingly secular times."

The nun sighed. "We hear of those fears sometimes, but I must be honest with you, sir, we haven't seen much of that concern here."

"I suppose you wouldn't," Kedar said. "I've lived in Britain for much of my life, you know. The country that once produced Saint George and Robert Southwell now strains under the throws of the profane. But here," he motioned around the building. "Faith always flourishes where there is suffering."

With a concerned side-eye, the nun said, "Excuse my saying so, Brother Kedar, but I don't think we need any more suffering in these parts." The two came to a stop at the end of the hallway.

"Our lord found agony so essential a part of the human experience he died on a cross." Kedar opened the door. "Excuse me now, sister."

The nun nodded as Kedar shut the door. Within the room stood a small table, and at one end sat preteen boy with dark skin and a tangled afro.

"Good afternoon, my friend." Kedar pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. "My name is Kedar."

"That's a weird name." The boy rubbed crusted boogers from just below his nostril with a dusty hand. "What kind of name is that?"

"Middle-eastern," Kedar said. "My mother was Arab." When the boy said nothing in return, he prompted, "And what is your name?"

"Gedeyon."

Kedar nodded. "A fine name. Gideon—that's just another pronunciation— was a judge in the Bible, you know." When the boy didn't reply, he asked, "Did your mother give you that name?"

"Never knew my mother," Gedeyon said. "That's why I'm here, you stupid koletam."

The word caught Kedar off guard, he wheezed out a laugh. "What did you just—do you know what that word means?"

"It's a ball," the Gedeyon said. "I called you a testicle."

Kedar laughed too hard to go on with his point for a few seconds more before he refocused. "All right—all right, so you do know what you called me. Good."

"Sister Naba said you wanted to take me away from here. That I should go with out to learn about God, and spread the word of his glory."

"A bit simple, but yes."

"I love the sisters. But I don't love your God. Your God is a stupid koletam too."

Kedar's mirthful face tightened in an instant to a stern frown, but he did not reprimand the boy. "Is that really what you think?"

"If God made me, then he gave me a mother who was dead before I could remember anything of her and a father I've never heard of. He put me here, in a poor village where we never get enough to eat, or enough medicine, and where the warlords pass few every few months to take the little we do have. So, yes, your God is a koletam."

"All right, it was cute at first, but now it's getting excessive. Take it easy." After the brief scolding, Kedar's face softened again. "I empathize with the temptation of that mindset. But I don't think God is the one responsible for your circumstances. And I think you know that as well."

Kedar paused and reached into his garb. After a struggle, as if it was caught on something, he drew out a black leather bag. After he unzipped the top, he poured out its contents: a several disjointed, gnarled bits of faded white bone.

Little Gedeyon's eyes went wide for a moment before he looked away. Kedar moved a finger through the crumbled bits and rubbed some of their dust on his thumb.

"Do you know what these are?"

"B-bones," the boy said.

"Do you know what kind of bones?"

His look still averted, Gedeyon shrugged. "A wild dog's, maybe. Or a goat's."

Kedar picked up the mangled skeleton of a hand. Something broke two of its fingers off at their centers, but it was otherwise impossible to mistake as anything but human. "I don't think this is a goat's foot, do you?"

Tiny shudders ran through Gedeyon's body, but the previously foul-mouthed boy remained silent.

"Do you want to guess where I found these bones?"

"I don't care," the boy said. "I don't care about anything you have to say."

"I dug these up from the corner of the property lines, buried there as if by some animal."

Gedeyon slammed his hands on the table. "So now you're digging on our land? What, are you looking for treasure? What kind of terrible priest are you?"

"I'm not a priest, but there's no need to linger on that detail," Kedar said. "I think you know about these bones and where they might have come from." He set the hand down. "Do you?"

"Do you think you know anything about our suffering here?" Gedeyon asked. "I've watched movies and read books about the rest of the world- that dumb accent of your, where's it from? Where are you from?"

"I've lived many places. But I've stayed the longest in Norfolk. That's in England."

"Yeah? You get warlords in England? Lots of kidnappers? Monsters who would force a gun into your hands?"

Kedar dropped his inquisitive side and his gaze hardened to something more serious. "Not in the last few centuries, no."

"What could you understand then? People die all the time in my country. Everyone knows it, everyone accepts it, there's not much hunting for bodies." Gedeyon gestured toward the bones. "If those are human bones, then they pissed off the wrong people, that's all there is to it."

"You think other people did this? These bite marks tell a different story. They looked chewed on, as if ripped apart by a hyena."

"And you'd know much about that? You have many hyenas in England too?"

"We used to have wolves, but that was centuries ago."

"Shut up," Gedeyon said. "You can't understand anything about us and what we need to do to survive. If you're taking someone away from this place, good, hurry up and do it. But I won't go with you."

"You won't because you don't like my offer, or you won't because this orphanage still needs its protector?"

Gedeyon's body went rigid at the accusation. After a few sputtered, he said, "You- you- you don't know anything. You can't prove anything."

"Calm yourself," Kedar said. "I don't have any intention of telling anyone."

The boy squeezed his hands tight around the fabric of his shirt, as if he fought hard to keep something contained within him.

"I want you to come with me for just a few days. See what I would offer you. And if you don't want to help me beyond that, you can come right back here."

Before he'd finished, Gedeyon shook his head hard and fast. "I don't believe you. And even if I did, I still have work to do here. Work that doesn't concern you."

"And what if, by coming with me, we could keep this orphanage safe, once and for all?"

Gedeyon's shakes came to an abrupt stop when he heard those words, and he slowly faced Kedar again. "What do you mean?"

"I know who sent those recruiters here. And-" he paused for a moment and chuckled. "If the home's noble guardian would be willing to accompany me, we can put a stop to them."

"... You know the warlord?"

"His name is Isayas Rossi, descended from one of the countless would-be colonizers from Italy. And he only likes to make those in his employ look like they're serving a warlord to mask his true operations." Kedar reached into his shirt again and laid another small bag, this one translucent, on the table. "Do you know what this is?"

Still struggling with all that was put before him, Gedeyon reached forward, unclasped the top of the bag, and squinted inside.

"Is this... gold?"

"The same cursed rock that has poisoned men's hearts since time out of mind," Kedar said. "And it poisoned this man's long ago. I intend to put a stop to him and his whole operation. I just need the help of the guardian angel that helped lead me to this conclusion."

With a mind buzzing with what else the man may ask of him, Gedeyon slowly rose from his seat and, eyes held on him, said, "And you already think you know where he is?"

"I do. But I'd need to see it verified before I made my offer.

After another half a minute to consider his response, Gedeyon gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. "Turn around."

Kedar raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do that? Do you intend to trick me?"

Gedeyon scowled. "Changing my shape tears my clothes, you stupid old man. And we don't have the clothes to waste around here."

Kedar's eyes widened and if he'd been told an interesting fact he'd never considered before. Then he nodded and turned around.

After Gedeyon stripped off his bottoms and leaned forward, a low rumble slipped from his lips. Within seconds his body started to drip with sweat and, if one listened closely, they could hear the tiny pop pop pop of his bones and joints slipping and repostioning themselves. When the outward change came it happened all at once- his pre-adolescent body shot up to over six feet tall, every inch of him covered in a layer of gray scales. The two extra eyes emerged from the side of his face before his eyes and mouth morphed into the tall blade of an axe. With a demonic distortion to his voice he said, "Face me now if you dare, holy man."

With a whirl Kedar face him and flinched at the beast that slouched where the boy stood. But after a few seconds to drink in his appearance, a grin overtook his face. "Magnificent. You are truly mangnificent, my boy."

For the rest of the afternoon the boy pressed Kedar for answers, some of which the older man gave, some that he kept to himself. Each question answered about this man, this Isayas Rossi, only fueled the boy'd hatred further. Kedar insisted his own people could oversee the orphanage until they returned, and regardless of Gedeyon's choices, he'd ensure more funds reached them. As the two of them drove for hours in the strange man's rental car toward Oromia, the boy hounded him for more information. To the boy's chagrin, though, he always wanted to redirect the conversation back to the theological.

"You had some strong words to say about the nature of God back at the orphanage." Kedar spoke without taking his eyes off of the road. "Surely you know that orphanage exists at all because of the nobility of God's servants?"

"Then do orphans exist at all because God made them orphans?" Gedeyon said. "Is that what you think?"

"Some of those children lost their parents to sickness. Some of them surcame to hunger. And still others to the rampant crime that still rules much of this country," Kedar said. "But God gave humanity the means to cure illness, and instruction to feed the hungry, and commanded them, 'Thou shall not kill.'"

"If he's not stopping those bad things from happening, then it's because he's weak. Or he's stupid. Or he's lazy," Gedeyon said.

"Or it's because he wants to see us ascend."

Gedeyon sneered, "Ascend?"

"Overcome our circumstance. Be born with original sin into a world shaped by original sin and come out the other side a proper person and believer anyway. God permits suffering because it is through pain it reveals what we truly are. Were you not in your circumstance at the orphanage, the side of you that would protect what you cherish most may have never come to the surface."

With a push, Gedeyon forced his seat back as far as it would go. "I'm tired of hearing you talk about suffering, old man. What would a puffed up man from England like you know?"

Kedar said nothing for a few contemplative seconds before he said, "Perhaps you will learn another day."

Gedeyon woke early the next morning and beheld how the roads became. It was something beyond, but somehow less than desert that surrounded them, Gedeyon felt. The city streets gave way to dead, sandy earth, carved out from years of abuse by machinery and bloodied hands. Gedeyon didn't know what to make of the idea of a "gold mine" when Kedar first mentioned it, but even his lowest expectations bottomed out long before this. Eventually dusty, bumpy road split off in two directions, one downhill toward a fence, and one up the red mountain before them. Kedar took the road on the right, and as they ascended Gedeyon got a look at laborers in pits of dirt. If he squinted, he made out adults that looked to be little more than skeletons, some of them sifting in the dirt, a fortunate few on the fringes eating wat wraped in injera. And, without question, the little bodies of children scurried among them too.

"I thought they would at least live decently," Gedeyon said. "For all the money they surely bring this man, shouldn't he at least pay them well? Or else why not work somewhere else?"

"Look this way." Kedar motioned ahead. Another large fence stood ahead, this one with an obvious gatehouse. "Why pay to keep your workers in line when you could pay mercenaries to keep them in line?"

"But- what? Would the money even out?"

"It would if you could pay those same people to kidnap you more workers." Kedar increased the pressure on the gas pedal as an old,three story cheateu at the top of the hill.

Gedeyon's gaped. "Is this where the workers stay?"

"What? No," Kedar said. "They stay in shacks on the other side of the mine. No, this home was built by the Rossi family. Isayas is within."

An icy shock ran through Gedeyon's body as the house- bigger than any he'd ever seen, bigger even than the orphanage- came into clarity.

"You should probably transform," Kedar said. "You'll be breaking in."

Gedeyon's body went stiff, but his mouth went slack. He turned toward the gate as a man with a shaved hand and an automatic weapon slung across his chest stepped out of the gatehouse and waved at them to slow. "Wha- are you insane?"

"A few hours ago, when you told me what really happened to those kidnappers, you told me your skin is bulletproof."

"It is—but— but it still stings me. I- I can't do this!"

Kedar frowned but nodded as he slowed the car. "Fine. It's not too late to back down. But I'm not bringing you back here for another try."

"That's not what I meant! I- I don't want to force past these people. I don't want to start a fight-"

"Rossi is inside. I have a contact who confirmed it for me. All you need to do is take what you're seeking from him." Kedar shrugged. "Or decide you're better than this. Better than what your father made you to be." He slowed the car to a stop.

The ice in Gedeyon's veins thawed instantly as he looked back up. "My— my what?"

Kedar rolled down the window as the gun-toting man from the guardhouse tapped on it, but paid the guard no mind. "Does that change your opinion of what you're willing to do?"

"Salam, friends," the guard said in a voice that did not sound friendly at all. "Can I help the two of you?"

Gedeyon demanded, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You seemed determined enough. But if you're considering backing out, I figured you at least deserved to know the truth."

The guard cleared his throat. "Friends? Excuse me? You're not supposed to be here."

Gedeyon wasn't listening. "And you didn't think that would influence my decision?"

"Well, has it?"

The boy stopped and glared at the guard. "It doesn't matter now."

With a hand tight on his gun, the man outside the car said, "Turn your vehicle around, or prepare to step out."

"It still matters, if you still want it," Kedar said.

"How could it matter now?"

"Do you still want it?"

"Fine, yes! Of course I do!"

Kedar flashed a toothy smile. "That's what I thought. Change, now, you don't be given another chance."

With that Kedar smashed on the gas pedal and flew past the guard. The gunman shouted and leveled his weapon as Kedar thrust the car straight through the bit of gate that blocked the driveway. As it tore away at the metal webbing and bullets sounded from behind, Gedeyon's clothes tore apart and he bumped both his head and legs on the roof and floor of the car as he shifted shape.

In his distorted bass voice, shouting over the gunfire, he asked, "How will I know?"

"Just rest assured, you will," Kedar said.

"What about you? And all those bullets?"

"Nevermind me, just go. Seek your vengeance."

Gedeyon only just tolerated the man anyway, he didn't need any more convincing. With a shove he threw the door off the car and rose to his full height. The boy keeled forward as a barrage of bullets struck his back. He said, "Ow!" at the same time another of the defending regiment screamed, "Demon!" Gedeyon took only a short look at the great wooden house before him, then threw himself forward and smashed in the door.

"ROSSI! ISAYA ROSSI!"

A moment after he shouted it into the main foyer, three men, all dressed in flack jackets, all holding machine guns, stepped out of halls on his left and right. A narrow staircase ran down the middle of the opening chamber, the railings of the structure covered in what looked to be gold.

The mercenaries didn't even shout, "Get down!" or anything of the sort. They saw a gray-skinned, axe-faced monster in their midst and they unleashed a barrage of bullets. Gedeyon dropped down and held his arms over his face. Though none of the bullets could pierce his scales, each stung, like a coin thrown and colliding with bare skin. And when the uncountable bursts of fire hammered at the same spots over and over, the boy imagined welts and bruises covering his whole body. He took in a strong sniffle, he wanted to cry for all the pain he stood in.

But in that inhale, he caught scent of something. Something… familiar? He smelled something musky, something he smelled on himself all too often back at the orphanage in the long stretches between baths. Yes, of course the smell was familiar.

As he pushed the pain that pressed against him out of his mind, Gedeyon shifted his bend into a crouch and leapt. Ever agile for his size, he ascended to the second floor without laying a foot on the staircase. Beyond the ringing in his ears, he caught the faint sound of screams below, almost certainly the mercenaries' intention to pursue him. He tried his best to ignore that too as he followed his nose. That musky scent led him through a side hallway into a room full of mounted heads and hunting trophies. And as he took in another deep breath, he picked up on a pair of voices from a door before him.

The first was a girl's scream.

The second was a string of curses in a man's voice, followed by the command, "Stop struggling!"

Gedeyon through his considerable weight at the door the voices came from. There came another scream and another string of swears as he stepped through the destroyed but of wall and searched around the room with his four eyes.

The two figures within stood frozen in terror. On the ground sat a little girl, younger than him, he was sure, clinging to a yellow dress to keep it on.

And opposite her stood a man in a bathrobe, the unmistakable scent wafting off of him.

Gedeyon roared, "Rossi!" and rushed toward him, a great fist pulled back to smash his skull into a million pieces.

The man in the bathrobe's eyes bugged out and he raised his hands. "Wait—wait!"

Ribs and bones fractured within an instant of contact. The man flew off his feet, across the bedroom, and crashed into a door on the opposite side of the room. Wood splintered and shattered as his body flew through the door into a shining, porcelain bathroom attached to the room. A scream sounded from the little girl in yellow who ran out of the room. Gedeyon passed her a nervous look and hoped she didn't rush into the mercenaries that waited below. Then he turned back toward the man that laid splayed in the bathroom. His body looked limp and broken. A sickening thought crossed Gedeyon's mind as he stepped closer: had he made a mistake? Did he have the wrong man? Or was the vengeance Kedar promised him never going to be all that fulfilling—

Rossi groaned as he pushed up off the floor, blood in his mouth, a fast-expanding purple bruise across his chest. He spat, glared, and when he spoke, he sounded little more than annoyed. "What the hell is wrong with you, you shrimp? Did you come for the girl? There's plenty like her to go around."

Gedeyon's eyes widened in confusion and disgust. "What?"

Rossi spat up another gob of red saliva, tightened his bathrobe, and took in a deep breath through his nose to prevent blood from leaking out. As he did, his face twisted in puzzlement. "What the—I smell you. Why do you smell—" he palmed his face and shook his head. "Ugh. Of course. You're one of mine, are you?"

With a snarl, Gedeyon took a step closer.

Hands raised, Rossi said, "All right, hang on there, junior, hang on. I suppose you want something from me—"

Gedeyon closed the distance between them, grabbed him by his face, and threw Rossi toward the window. Glass shattered as his body flew outside and smashed into the ground. Knees bent, Gedeyon leapt and shattered the wood and last remnants of the window. Rossi laid broken on the ground, Gedeyon aimed to land atop him and crush him to death.

Rossi forced his eyes open and flashed a nasty sneer. In an instant his flesh disappeared behind a layer of dark gray scales. His body morphed, his arm and leg muscles bloated, and the center of his face elongated into an axe.

There wasn't time after Kedar shared the revelation about his parenthood to consider this moment, but in hindsight, Gedeyon should have realized this was coming. It wasn't supple human flesh he landed atop, it felt more like he'd leaped and landed on a rocky road. And a moment after he did, a gigantic arm flew up and swatted him away like a fly.

Rossi pushed up from the ground, at his full height he stood just under eleven feet tall. His own thunderous roar put every one from Gedeyon's life to shame. Shakes ran through Gedeyon as he took a frightened step back. A moment after the roar, a flurry of Rossi's mercenaries ran out of the mansion, guns raised. For a moment, they flinched at the two giants before them.

Then, one of them stepped forward from the rest. "Mister Rossi, should we fire?"

With a snarl, Rossi said, "Don't bother. He's bulletproof, like me." He took slow stomps about as he examined his progeny. "You got your aggression out yet, boy? Do you see what a stupid idea it is to face me?"

Gedeyon didn't take any of his eyes off of him, but said nothing.

"So, you're mine, are you?" Rossi said. "Did you do the buda ritual? No, doubtful. The transformation can be passed on? Never heard of anything like this."

"Shut up, you monster." Gedeyon shook as he spoke. "I'm—I'm not afraid of you."

"I don't want to fight you, kid," Rossi said. "I get it, you hate me for not being around. For what I did to your mother—"

Gedeyon flinched. "What? What did you do to my mother?"

Rossi's mouth slipped open and he gaped in disbelief. "You don't know? Then you don't need refuel yourself? What?" After a hard swallow, he asked, "What else can you do? What are you?"

"Something better than you!" Gedeyon ran at Rossi, The titanic bulgu stepped forward and delivered a suckerpunch that knocked him off his feet. Gedeyon screamed and pushed back up and threw himself at him again, Rossi kicked him in the face and the boy fell to the ground. After a moment to readjust his position, Rossi threw another strike into Gedeyon's face. And another. And other. Until something cracked in his head and blood started to seep from his lips.

"Had enough yet, you little worm?" Rossi rubbed his foot into Gedeyon's face. "Did you come for your inheritance then, boy? Maybe I'll still give you some of it if you plead right."

"Go to hell," Gedeyon said with a snarl. "I never cared about your gold."

"What?" Rossi pulled back his leg for another kick. "So you're stupid too then?" The larger bulgu lifted Gedeyon's face a few inches off the dirt, smashed it in, and rubbed him in it. "You deserve everything I'm going to do to you, little boy."

With his four eyes shut tight, enduring the poundings in his face, Gedeyon thought on what brought him to this moment. This was because of that damned man who just turned up at the orphanage. He's said all those stupid things about who was coming for him and the other kids, how it terrible people who inflicted all this harm, not his precious, do nothing God.

Somewhere in the middle of that storm of thoughts, Gedeyon considered, just for a moment, if he had anything to lose by pleading to that elusive deity. It felt clear Rossi would show him no mercy, but even if he did, Gedeyon didn't think he wanted it from him. However, he may have struggled with God being indifferent or stupid, this man—this exploiter, this kidnapper—he was something far worse. Something far more actively malicious. And so in that moment, humiliated and helpless, Gedeyon silently asked, If you're so good and mighty, help me!

With a soft thunk, something landed on the ground next to them. With a struggling squint, Gedeyon opened his eyes and searched about until they settled on a small kitab, an amulet inscribed with the name of God. Gedeyon knew of them, of course, the nuns hung them in every room of the orphanage to ward off evil. But where did this one come from? Why would it—

Rossi shrieked and leapt off of his son. He glared down at the kitab with his four eyes and gnashed his teeth, as if it gave off an agonizing radiation. The ogre retreated until his back pressed against the back fence of his property that overlooked the mines below. With his glare turned to one of his mercenaries, he commanded, "Come pick that up."

"Yes sir," his officer said.

Gedeyon stared at the amulet, dumbfounded. Did the object actually hurt him somehow? Gedeyon had been around kitabs and prayers every day of his life, why didn't it have the same effect on him? After a second of contemplation, he realized this was his one opening, ran, grabbed the kitab off the ground, and opened his arms. Rossi tried to move out of the way, but the power that reverberated off the amulet left him sluggish. Gedeyon caught him in a tackle and kept running.

First the fence gave way. Then the hill proved too steep, Gedeyon tripped and the father and son began to tumble. As they fell downward, Gedeyon did all in his power to hold the kitab to Rossi's chest. Rossi's body sizzled where the talisman pressed against him, and screams bubbled up from his lips.

As they closed in on the servants in Rossi's servants, new shouts of terror echoed through the quarry. Men, women, and children grabbed or abandoned their tools to run away as the two bulgu crashed ever closer.

But the longer they fell, the more one began to dissipate. The kitab burned the scales from his body and his muscles collapsed in on themselves. As they neared stable ground and as his face returned to something human, Rossi screamed, "Little bastard! You little bastard—"

When the two hit level ground, Rossi was on the bottom. The weight of Gedeyon's arms and upper body alone crushed his ribcage and destroyed his heart within. Rossi let out another howl of agony and screamed something unintelligible. Blood erupted out from his mouth and into the axe at the center of Gedeyon's face. And, as if he'd just remembered it was even there, Gedeyon threw his head backward, then forward. Rossi would already die anyway, but a few precious moments remained to hurt him one last time. With the throw forward, Gedeyon cleaved into his skull. The moment he struck, the last of Isaya Rossi's life left him.

It took Gedeyon a few seconds to return to his senses. This wasn't hit first kill, but there did seem to be a finality to it. As he rose, he gazed down at the kitab still held tight in his hand. Did Sister Naba and Kedar's God really save him? Was that all it ever took to reduce that titanic monster back to his human form? Should he—

"Monster! Demon! Die! In the name of God, die!"

A hard, reverberating smash knocked Gedeyon upside his head. He whirled around, and one of the starving miners his him in the face with his shovel again.

"No—no wait!" Gedeyon raised his hands. "Stop, I'm—"

A fresh barrage of bullets from up the hill rained down. Weakened as he was, a few did break through the scales on his back, and Gedeyon screamed like he'd been pieced with a hundred tiny shards of glass.

The peasants in the quarry came in from the opposite direction and others took their own swings. Atop the hill, the gunmen had plenty to aim for, so their blasts did nothing to deter them. Gedeyon bent in the dirt and held his hands over his head like he wanted to shrink away, but nothing lessened the countless impacts. Scales shattered, blood poured, he saw stars as shovel swings bashed his face.

Then, Gedeyon snapped.

Then, Gedeyon screamed.

Then Gedeyon swung his axe toward his nearest attackers.

Then Gedeyon blacked out.

Two hours later, with the sun streaming in through a window, Gedeyon slowly returned to consciousness within a bedroom of Rossi's mansion. His monstrous form then shed, his head pounded and the light stung his eyes. With a long, pained groan, he tried to sit up, but collapsed backwards.

"So, you're awake, are you?"

Gedeyon scanned the room past walls covered with paintings of nearly-nude women and golden trim until his eyes settled on Kedar. The older man sat in a chair across from his bed, one leg relaxed over the other, and his arms crossed.

Weak and exhausted, Gedeyon asked, "What happened?"

"You did what you came here to do," Kedar said. "You killed a monster."

Gedeyon nodded. "… And after that?"

Kedar sighed and looked away. "Then, what I'm sure were well meaning people from the mines tried to kill you."

With a lump in his throat, Gedeyon asked, "And after that?"

"Most of them escaped you. And you killed the mortal monsters in your father's employe as well."

Gedeyon rolled over, buried his face in his pillow, and sobbed.

Two hours after that, Kedar and the boy sat in the kitchen. Both sipped on mugs of coffee as Kedar laid bare all he knew.

"The Rossi family already owned this gold mine, but that wasn't good enough for Isaya. He sought the buda—the evil eye—to allow him the freedom to be something truly monstrous. Cases like his are painted with blood on this land's history. To appease his inner demon, he kidnapped, killed, consumed, or—" Kedar paused and cleared his throat, "desecrated the children he claimed. That is where you came from."

"And all it took was a kitab to ward him off?"

"That talisman was charged by my, and eventually, your faith." Kedar sipped from his mug. "The only thing truly required to ward off demons."

"But it didn't do anything to me?"

"You have the monster's powers, but every baby that came into your orphanage was baptized. That cleansed you of your inequities, and protected you from the burn of the kitab."

Gedeyon nodded along slowly, then gave the man a careful look once again. "So, what's your endgame then? You're some kind of monster hunter, and you wanted my help taking down this one?"

Kedar chuckled. "My plans for this world are far greater. I believe I can make world where men truly fear to do evil again. A world where the fear of God abounds once more. Men like your father will not exist, because they will again dread the thought of an eternity of damnation. In this moment I offer catharsis, but in due time, I think I can save this world from men like him. And save men like him from their own foul machinations."

Gedeyon considered those words for a last few seconds. He finished his coffee, nodded to Kedar, and said, "I want in."

An amused smile crossed Kedar's face as the scene started to lose focus and blur away. "Do you? What about your inheritance? What about this house? What about the gold in the mines?"

"Take what you can and give it back to my orphanage," Gedeyon said. "I don't want to be rich. I don't want to be like him." With that, he stepped out of the kitchen, into the rest of the house that was slowly fading into oblivion.

"Where are you going?" Kedar asked.

"See if I can find the girl he took captive," Gedeyon said. "To tell her she doesn't need to be afraid anymore."

Between the horrors in the dream and the rocking of the boat, Sadie awoke with a churning in her belly. She fumbled around in near-darkness for something to throw up in, and when she couldn't find anything, she struggled to get in a few deep breaths. Eventually, the moment of sickness passed.

Then she reached down for the backpack next to her bed and dug out her cellphone, a pencil, and the sheets of sketching paper she carried. A quick look at the phone confirmed she'd have to get up in just a few hours for breakfast, followed immediately by her first inquiry. A few details of the dream she'd just experienced already began to slip away, so she did her best to hastily write down everything else she still remembered.

All the while, she shook her head and muttered, "He was just a kid. He didn't ask for this. None of them asked for any of this."