Mana looks away. “That wasn’t my lot in life, I guess.. But thank you.” 

“My empathy is the least you deserve,” Lakapati answers. “You’ve shown me that and more today. If I wasn’t this hollow shell of myself, I would do so much more. For all the fear and hatred your tormentors have for you I would strike unto them a thousand fold more. I would reshape this into a world both of us can belong in, and do everything in my power to undo what has been done to you.”

“You’ve seen it too?” Mana feels her insides stir. “The way they look at me.. How disgusted they are..” She meets Lakapati’s gaze again. “It’s more than me being gay isn’t it? It’s something else.. There’s something.. Wrong with me.” A chill runs up her spine. “What did you mean by ‘undoing what has been done to me’?” 

 For a moment Lakapati is silent. “They didn’t tell you.. Of course not.” They look down, and hesitation strains their voice. “This is going to be difficult to hear–”

“Tell me,” Mana says firmly. “My life has been nothing but difficult for reasons I don’t understand. If you can give me any direction I’ll take it. Even if it hurts..” 

The god, who only a moment ago wore righteous fury on their face, now looks at her with tenderness and pity. “Okay,” they say softly. They raise a hand and look off to their side. “It’s easier just to show you.” 

The cave warps beside them, the shadows collapsing into the light of another environment, a scene from a rainy back alley in Manila dimly lit by streetlights and open apartment windows. A man in a black trench coat stands alone in the middle of the alley, back turned to Mana and Lakapati. His short, black hair is slicked back neatly, gray lining the roots. His face is a wrinkled scowl, and under his chin a white collar peeks out of the darkness. 

He watches the alleyway intently, then after a few minutes two people walk out from the night and approach him. The couple, a man and woman the same age rush forward, desperation in their eyes. 

“Mom? Dad?” Mana looks on as her parents confront the man in the coat.

“Dalisay!” Her father screams at the man and nearly throws himself at him, only stopped by his wife pulling him back by his arm. The man doesn’t flinch. “We did all of your recitations for weeks and nothing’s changed!” 

“They are not my recitations, Alfonso. They are words from the bible.” Father Dalisay replies sternly.

Mana’s mother steps forward, fury in her eyes. “And you said they would help her. You were wrong. She’s still seeing girls from her school! I caught her messaging one yesterday!”

“I said they might help her. I told you in most cases prayer is all you need.” Father Dalisay crosses his arms. “Your daughter is not most cases, Leah. That’s why I asked to meet again.” 

Alfonso steps forward again. “There are others we can turn to, Father,” he hisses. “We turned to you. We trusted you on the recommendation of our neighbors, the stories they told about you helping their kids. If you’re playing us all for fools–”

“You’re accusing the church of playing you for fools. Watch your mouth, Alfonso.” Father Dalisay smirks. “And who else can help you if the Lord can’t? The doctors you can’t afford? Were you planning to smother Mana with drugs?” 

The couple takes a step back, still angry but clearly shaken. Leah adjusts the collar of her blouse and sighs. “Just say what you came here to say.” 

“Tch.” Father Dalisay looks down at the wet concrete beneath them. “I have another solution.” Mana’s parents scoff at him, but he continues. “It’s guaranteed to work. A method I reserve only for those who need the extra measure.”

“Guaranteed?” Alfonso snaps. “How?”

The priest looks back at him unmoved. “I speak directly with the source of your problems. I negotiate with The Adversary on your behalf.” 

“You’re going to talk to The Devil,” Leah sneers. “You expect us to believe that?” 

“Believe what you want. The offer remains. There are plenty of other people, other families I can offer this to who need it just as badly.” 

“How do you do it?” Alfonso asks only half-seriously. “How does it work? Is it a blood sacrifice? Do you draw a summoning circle in chalk and light some candles?” 

Father Dalisay glares at him. “How it’s done is not for you to know. That knowledge is exclusive to the Church, to us in the clergy who are trained to do it.” 

“Right..” Leah grumbles. She rubs her temples, then looks back at the priest. “Fine. What do you need from us?” 

“Love,” Alfonso protests. 

“He’s right, Al. We don’t have any other options, and I won’t lose her.” 

Mana’s father frowns, but after a moment he looks back at Father Dalisay.

“All I need from you is your consent. Then I can get started,” the priest answers.

Alfonso looks into his eyes with intensity. “You have it.” 

The scene dissolves back into the depths of the cave, and Lakapati lowers their hand. “Dalisay is a conman, just not in the way they thought.”

“So he did talk to The Devil?” Mana asks.

Lakapati nods. “He’s a devil himself, a power hungry black magic practitioner masquerading as a priest. What he’s done.. I can’t even begin to describe.” 

Mana gets up off of the dirt. “What did he do to me?” 

The god looks up at her, still with that look of sympathy and sorrow. “I was not privy to his conversation, as you can imagine the Morningstar keeps his doings under lock and key, but the results of it..” They pause. “Do you remember how you arrived here?”

Mana retraces her steps in her mind. “I was running through the forest.. After I was caught on a date with my classmate.”

“Do you remember how you arrived in the forest? What happened in between?”

“I.. I don’t.. I must have been drinking and blacked out..” She looks at Lakapati. “Wait.. Wait, are you saying my blackouts–” 

“They do start with the alcohol, but then.. Then something else takes over. You’ve been blocking the memories out, but they’re still there.” 

As they say this, fragments start to fall into place in Mana’s head. A man is laid out on his back in an alleyway, and she’s standing over him. Blood spills out from his neck, then is washed away down the street by the rain. Her reflection in a puddle of rainwater looks back with piercing yellow eyes. Her neck is marked in a cold red, a bruise already halfway healed. She feels no pain. Her mouth tastes more of iron than her usual bottle of San Miguel. The last traces of rage crackling out at the edge of her consciousness. She was defending herself, and then she wasn’t. 

He followed her out of a bar, as most of them did. Unlike the others, he was a police officer. He told her he was just looking out for her, like he was performing a wellness check. He has nothing to say anymore, and he never will again. 

She runs out of the alley as fast and as hard as she can. All she can think about is running, running until she runs out of ground. And then the ground is gone. Manila is miles under her, and all around her storm clouds roar and howl. She can’t feel her legs, but she can feel the wings beating from her back, carrying her along the tempest as it sweeps her. She cherishes the feeling, the rush as she dives between bolts of lightning, through layers and layers of heavy rain, back down to her bedroom window. 

“So that’s what it was..” she says with a dry laugh. She sits back down on the dirt and grips a handful of it between her fingers. “I don’t know what’s worse, that they made me into a monster or that they let a conman trick them into doing it.” 

Lakapati shifts their legs, trying to lean forward towards her. “You’re not a monster, Mana–”

“I’m an aswang!” Mana shouts. Tears fill her vision and she buries her face in her hands.

“You’re part aswang! You still have your soul!” 

She lifts her head up and stares at Lakapati. “What..?”

With a great deal of effort the god manages to sit up straight. “You’re only part aswang, Mana,” they say, crossing their legs. “True aswang do not have a conscience. Dalisay tried to rob you of it, tried to sell you in parts to The Devil, but you denied them both. They were only able to change you halfway.” 

“I stopped them..? How..?”

Lakapati smiles warmly. “I’m not completely certain, but few things in this world can overcome one’s inner demons at their most potent. In your case, I think you were able to cling to something, a connection in this world that touched you deeper than the pain you’ve endured.”

“It was her..” Mana says softly. “My love for her kept me here..” 

Lakapati nods. “You may not have a house where your body can be at rest, but you do have someone your soul calls home.” 

A faint smile works its way onto Mana’s face and then fades. “And how am I supposed to go back to her now..?” Her chest aches like it’s been clawed open by a wild animal. “Am I going to outlive her?”

“No,” Lakapati answers. “I can’t do much, but I can help you with that, if one lifetime is what you want.”

“One lifetime is all I need. As long as I can live it with her.” 

Lakapati extends a hand out to her, their palm glowing, lighting up the cave in a warm, gentle shine. She scoots over to them, and without hesitation grabs hold of the light. “In the thousands of years I have been this land’s nurturer and witness, I have seen humanity do so many things,” the god says with a wince. “I have seen this place change hands and flags. I have seen it bleed for wars and tyrants. I have seen faith smother suffering with gratitude, starving mouths begging for empathy silenced by kind words of wisdom and table scraps. I watched industry rise around the debris of revolution, swallowing earth and sky in wire and metal and concrete. I have breathed the numbness of addicts and the loneliness of the queer enough to rot my lungs beyond repair. In all that time I have never once seen someone be given so much and turn it down.”

Calm washes over Mana’s body. She allows herself to be submerged in it, the weight of her mind soaked and wiped down to moss on stone. In her mind she hears Lakapati speak softly, “You’ve turned down eternity, and have shown me something far more valuable. May this time show you all the love you have shown me.”