The voice echoed like a promise and a curse.
“Time to destroy.”

And with it—agony.

Angelo screamed — a guttural, soul-rending sound. His body twisted violently, as if something inside him was trying to claw its way out. He scraped the floor with bloodied nails, splinters tearing his skin. He slammed his head down until the wood beneath him cracked.

“ANGELO!” Olivia shrieked, breaking free from James and Alex. She dropped to her knees beside her son, cradling him as his body convulsed in her arms.

Emma sobbed uncontrollably. Alex stood frozen, knuckles white as bone. James held Emma close, but his arms trembled.

Sophia didn’t move.

She couldn’t.

The fear locked her in place—paralyzing, suffocating.

“Do something!” Olivia screamed at her, voice sharp with desperation.

But Sophia only stared—at the mark on Angelo’s back, now glowing like a brand. It pulsed with ancient energy, spreading across his body like wildfire. The glowing runes twisted into symbols no human had ever written. His hair drained of color, turning bone-white.

Then—silence.

Angelo went still in Olivia’s lap.
Limp.
Lifeless.

“No… no, no, no!” Olivia sobbed, shaking him, her cries cracking the air like thunder.

And then—the air changed.

The marks on Angelo’s body pulsed once.
Then again—faster.
Harder.

A shockwave erupted from him, throwing Olivia and Sophia across the room like ragdolls.

Outside, the chaos began.

Every creature within miles felt it—the return. The ancient force they had fled from had awakened. They shrieked and howled, tearing into each other in blind panic, trampling ruins in desperate retreat.

Angelo’s body rose from the floor—slowly, unnaturally.

He hovered mid-air, head down, arms limp. Then he looked up.

But those eyes…
They weren’t Angelo’s.

He grinned—wide, feral.

And laughed.

Not one voice, but two—layered. One was his. The other was… something else. Ancient. Vast. Hungry.

“I finally get to have some fun.”

His gaze swept the room—pausing on Sophia, then James, then Emma’s wide, terrified eyes. His grin twisted further.

“We’ve got a good family,” he whispered, the double voice dripping with menace.

Then—with a roar of wind and splintered wood—he blasted through the roof, rising high above the house, standing on the air itself.

The sky darkened. Thunder rolled.

He spoke.

A word. Just one. Untranslatable. Inhuman.

Below, dozens of creatures dropped dead. No blood. No wounds. Just… gone. Their souls ripped away in an instant.

The survivors charged—flying, crawling, shrieking.

He said another word.

They disintegrated mid-air—turned to dust.

Silence.

He looked down at his hands, flexing the fingers.
“This body is still too weak,” he muttered.

And then he fell—

A blur of light and power hurtling from the sky.

He plunged back through the shattered opening in the roof, trailing sparks of residual energy. The moment he hit the floor, the impact was explosive—wood cracked, beams snapped, and the ground beneath him gave way. The entire floor caved in with a thunderous crash, leaving a jagged crater in the heart of the living room. Dust choked the air. Furniture split apart, and loose boards flew like shrapnel.

But Angelo didn’t move.

He lay at the center of the destruction, unharmed—still glowing faintly, like embers beneath the ash.

James was the first to move, stumbling over debris, heart pounding.
“He’s alive!” he shouted. “Angelo’s still breathing!”

The others rushed toward him, but none could look away from the runes still glowing on his skin.

Because it wasn’t just Angelo who had returned.

The living room was ruined. The roof gaped open to the stormy sky above. Fragments of broken rafters littered the floor. A cracked support beam leaned at an angle, groaning with weight. The family couch was flipped and torn, its cushions buried under the debris. Glass crunched under their feet. The warmth the house once held had vanished, replaced by a heavy, uneasy stillness.

Olivia knelt beside Angelo, her hands shaking as she brushed dust from his face. Sophia limped toward them, blood trickling from a cut on her brow, but her eyes never left the crater.

The house still stood. But the peace it once knew had been broken—and might never return.