Chapter 29: Acid

The hospital room pulsed with urgency. Monitors beeped erratically, nurses rushed between trays and screens, and the air was thick with sterilized heat and panic. Kammy gripped the rails of the delivery bed, her knuckles pale, her face drenched in sweat. She screamed— loud, raw, guttural— a sound that split through the hallways beyond. Her back arched violently.

Doctor: She’s crowning— but something’s wrong.

Kammy: It burns! It burns inside!

The nurses exchanged confused looks. One of them reached for a second pair of gloves. The other’s hand hovered, uncertain, trembling. Then came the smell— sharp, chemical, wrong.

Nurse: What is that!?

The sheets began to hiss. The metal stirrups shimmered with corrosion. A dark liquid was spreading across the bed, eating through fabric, pooling around the doctor’s shoes. Acid. Thick and hot, bubbling with unnatural life.

Doctor: Step back! Step back now!

The floor began to steam. The heart monitor shorted, its wires melting from the ends. A nurse cried out as her sleeve caught a drop— skin blistering on contact. Kammy screamed again, but this time, it was quieter— less force, more surrender. Her head rolled to the side, lips barely moving. And then… silence. For a moment, no one moved. The room crackled and hissed. Acid dripped from the bed frame to the floor, dissolving everything it touched. Instruments curled into molten knots. The lights flickered. Then softly, a sound rose from the puddle. A baby’s cry. It was faint, but real. A thin, breathy whimper blooming within the ruin. The acid rippled, convulsed, then gathered. Tendrils of it slithered inward from the corners of the room, pulled by something unseen. Slowly, impossibly, a shape began to take form within the pooling acid— small, fragile, humanoid. A ribcage took shape first— then muscle, flesh, skin. The acid turned clear, then vanished. And in its place… was a child. Newborn. Crying. Eyes barely open. The room was dead quiet. No one spoke. No one knew what they were looking at. The doctor stepped forward in disbelief.

And baby Zan— naked, glowing faintly from the steam rising off his skin, took his first breath, not with innocence, but with instinct. Not born. Formed.

Ten years later. The church was quiet. Tall pillars lined the sanctuary, worn white marble cracked with age. Stained glass windows filtered evening light in bleeding colors— red, gold, blue— all washing across the pews like divine bruises. Zan knelt on a prayer cushion. His small hands rested obediently on his thighs. His eyes weren’t closed, just lowered— fixated on the floor tile beneath him. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t speak. His father, Garis stood beside him, one hand resting firmly on the boy’s shoulder. Not in comfort. In stillness. Like keeping him in place. The priest stood over them, robed in cream and gold. One hand on Zan’s head, the other raised toward heaven.

Priest: Lord Yeshma, we ask for your mercy upon this child. You are light, order, and healing. We rebuke the spirit of disorder. Whatever seed has rooted in him, let it be burned away. Heal him. Make him clean. Make him whole.

Zan didn’t flinch. He didn’t understand every word. But he understood enough, that something about him wasn’t good, that something about him had to be fixed. His father remained silent. Still.

Garis: Thank you so much, Father.

Priest: Of course. Yeshma looks over all the children.

Garis looked to Zan.

Garis: Let’s go, Zan.

Zan smiled and took Garis by the hand. Together they walked out the church.

They stepped into their mobile vehicle, the doors gliding shut behind them with a soft hydraulic hiss. The interior was dim and quiet, lined with polished metal and deep leather seats that reflected the ambient lights outside. As the engine hummed to life, the vehicle lifted smoothly off the ground and slipped into one of Krutone’s transit lanes. Outside the tinted windows, the city rolled by in calculated elegance. Neon signs pulsed with perfection, their colors washing across Zan’s small face as he watched.

Zan: Dad, am I almost back to normal?

Garis looked at Zan.

Garis: Yes, buddy. Almost done.

Zan: When I turn 11?

Garis: Yep! Almost there.

Zan: And then I can go to school like Neela.

Garis: Yes. And you’ll both get to go together.

Zan smiled and continued looking at the city lights. Garis sighed and looked at Zan’s innocence. He couldn’t help but feel guilt. Finally, the vehicle slowed and descended, hovering gently into the docking platform of their home. The doors opened. Garis stepped out first. Zan followed.

Inside their sleek, dim-lit home, Zan walked to the hallway closet and opened it carefully. Behind folded towels and spare linens sat small glass containers, each filled with a murky, iridescent liquid that shimmered faintly under the overhead light. He pulled them out, unscrewing the caps one by one. Without hesitation, he drank them like it was something he’d done a hundred times. The taste didn’t bother him. In fact, he smiled between sips.

In the kitchen, Garis opened the fridge and rummaged for leftovers, pausing to glance over his shoulder. He watched Zan drink in silence. Not with pride. Not with concern. Just… watched. And when Zan looked up at him with a grin, Garis gave the faintest nod.

Garis: Make sure you don’t spill.

Zan: Yeah, yeah. I won’t.

Garis noticed a thin trail of the liquid clinging to Zan’s cheek, glistening like oil in the low light. But instead of wiping it away, Zan simply smiled— and the fluid began to vanish on its own, seeping into his skin as if it belonged there. No residue. No stain. Just a quiet absorption, like his body had been waiting for it.

Zan: Imma go play in the backyard now.

Garis nodded.

Garis: Don’t go too far.

Zan: I won’t. It’s just our backyard.

The wristband around Garis’s arm buzzed softly, its surface pulsing with a gentle green and red glow. He tapped green, and a small holographic screen flickered to life above his forearm. The priest’s face appeared, framed by the soft candlelight of the church.

Garis: Hello, Father.

Priest: Hello Garis. How are you and Zan? I know we just saw each other.

Garis: We’re good! He just got done eating, so I’m getting my food now.

Priest: I’m so sorry to interrupt your meal.

Garis: No! It’s fine. Please let me know, what’s up?

Priest: I’m calling because I forgot to mention the tithe.

Garis: Oh yes! I’m so sorry I forgot. I left the envelope in my vehicle.

Priest: That’s fine. I’m so sorry to bother you about it.

Garis: No, no! I’m sorry. I should’ve remembered. Um, how long will you be at the church?

Priest: I’m here for the next two hours.

Garis: Ok perfect. Let me head over real quick. I need to pick up my daughter, Neela anyways.

Priest: Will Zan be coming back too? Do we need security?

Garis looks out the window from where he stood, watch Zan play with his toys.

Garis: Uhhh, it should be quick. I’ll leave Zan at home.

Priest: Ok. I will see you soon then.

Garis: Alright, see you soon.

Garis walks and pokes his head out the back door.

Garis: Zan!

Zan turns around.

Zan: Yes, Dad?

Garis: I’m going to pick up Neela ok?

Zan: Ok.

Garis: You be good. Don’t go too far out, ok?

Zan: Yes, Dad. Only the backyard.

Garis: Ok, I’ll be back.

Zan: Ok.

Garis exited, and Zan was left alone. He waited silently until the faint hum of the vehicle faded beyond the walls. Only then did he move. In the far corner of the backyard, he crouched low and began to dig, his small hands brushing away the soil. After a few moments, the dirt gave way to what he was searching for. Two small bodies lay beneath the surface— a mouse and a bird, limp and dry with age. He had buried them himself. Zan's expression didn’t change. He extended his hand. Slowly, his index finger shimmered, the skin warping into a dark, viscous fluid. Acid. It dripped in slow, deliberate lines as he brought it down, burning a clean incision along the bird’s stomach. Steam rose. Flesh parted. He did the same to the mouse, carving it open with unsettling precision. Then, Zan slipped his thumb inside the cavity of each creature, pressing gently against their rotted organs. His breathing slowed. His eyes narrowed, not in disgust, but in fascination. Like he was trying to understand something. Like he was learning. The acid on his finger retracted, fading back into skin.

Zan: Hmm.

Zan smiled.

Something sparked Zan’s mind. He began to play with the dead creatures.

Zan (as mouse): Hey, how come you can fly?

Zan (as bird): I have wings.

Zan (as mouse): That’s no fair. I wish I had wings.

Zan (as bird): But you were born the way you are. You’re a mouse.

Zan (as mouse): I didn’t want to be born this way!

Zan (as bird): Well, that’s just life little mouse.

Zan (as mouse): Not fair, because people see me as gross, but I’m just me!

Zan (as bird): You’re still special. You’re not gross.

Zan (as mouse): People use me as experiments. I’m only good for being a test subject or thrown away. I wish I can fly away like you.

Zan (as bird): Well, maybe if you show your silly tricks, people won’t throw you away. 

Zan (as mouse): But they say I can carry diseases.

Zan paused and looked at the dead mouse in his hand.

Zan (quietly as mouse): I want to be born different.

Acid began to bleed from Zan’s hand as he stared down at the mouse. Slowly, silently, the flesh sizzled away, dissolving piece by piece until nothing remained. He looked at the bird, then gently placed it back into the hole and began to cover it with dirt, pressing the earth down with careful hands like he was tucking it in for sleep.

Back at the church, Garis stood near the entrance, Neela quietly at his side. Garis handed the envelope to the priest with both hands, bowing his head slightly out of habit. The priest received it with a gentle smile.

Garis: Sorry again for the delay. Things have been a little hectic lately.

Priest: No apology needed. Usually, I would just wait but rent for the church is due tonight.

Garis: Thank you for being so patient. And thank you for always taking the time to see my little boy.

Priest: Oh don’t mention it. It is always a pleasure for me to pray for him. Yeshma never leaves any of His children behind. Is everything else back at home ok?

Garis: Yeah. It’s hard without her…

Priest: Mmm…

Garis: Kammy was always so on top of things.

Priest: And you’re doing a wonderful job raising two children on your own.

Garis: I’m trying.

Priest: And Yeshma sees that. Don’t forget that.

Garis looked defeated, but hopeful at that statement.

Garis: Thank you, Father.

Priest: Blessings.

Garis nodded and left with Neela. Together they got in their vehicle and headed home.

Garis: How was school, sweetie?

Neela: Good.

Garis: You doing good in school?

Neela: Mmm-hmm.

Garis: You had your quiz today right?

Neela: Yeah. Almost perfect score.

Garis: Good job!

Neela: I wanted the perfect score.

Garis: That’s ok, sweetie. You studied all night for it. I can see you working hard.

Neela smiled. A moment of silence.

Neela: Zan did something bad.

Garis: What did he do?

Neela paused.

Neela: He caught a little bird and mouse.

Garis: He caught them?

Neela: Well, not quite. More like… shot them.

Garis: What!?

Neela: Yeah. He shot them with his acid thing. It was gross.

Garis: Are you sure? He can shoot acid?

Neela: Now he can. He had the mouse long ago I think. But I saw him shoot the bird down.

Garis was speechless. The rest of the ride home was silent. Finally, they stopped at their home and Garis went inside. Neela followed. Garis found Zan who was still outside playing with his toys.

Garis (to Zan): Where are they?

Zan: Hm?

Garis: The mouse and bird.

Zan (stuttering): I- uhh- I- the bird?

Garis: Zan, I know about them. Give them to me right now?

Zan: I… I have—

Garis: Give them to me right now, Zan.

Zan walked to the corner and dug out the little bird.

Garis: And the mouse?

Zan: I don’t have it anymore.

Garis: Where is it? What did you do with it?

Zan: I got rid of it.

Garis: Well, go get it for me then.

Zan: I melted it away.

Garis: You melted it?

Zan: I didn’t want it anymore.

Garis: You know you’re not supposed to use your acid at home. I said over and over it’s dangerous. You could hurt Neela on accident.

Zan: Sorry, Daddy…

Garis: Why can’t you be more like your older sister? Just play normally. You have toys. And why the hell are you killing little animals?

Zan: I was… curious…

Garis: Curious about what?

Zan didn’t know how to answer.

Garis: Well?

Zan: I wanted to see if they have insides also.

Garis: Zan, you can’t just kill things! Do you understand?

Zan nodded.

Garis: Wash your hands— never mind. Get your shoes on. Your appointment is almost here.

Zan dropped the dead bird and hurried his little self back inside the house. Garis took a moment to look at the dead bird. He saw how its core was opened and it organs hanging out. With his earth abilities, he used the nearby soil to bury and wrap around the little corpse and levitated it into a nearby trash container. He sighed and went back inside.

Hours later, at the Krutone Research Center, Zan stood motionless inside a sleek cylindrical scanner, faint pulses of light sweeping vertically across his small frame. The room was silent but clinical— white walls lined with data ports and sterile shelving, broken only by the soft beeping of monitoring equipment. Garis stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly, his jaw tense. Across from the machine, a doctor in a high-collared lab coat studied a glowing screen, eyes narrowing as streams of Intergy data scrolled in real time. A nurse adjusted settings on a nearby console while a humanoid robot hovered beside the scanner, its mechanical limbs poised for assistance. The doctor tapped the screen once, paused, then looked up— expression unreadable.

Doctor (to Garis): Same as usual.

The nurse checks off something from her tablet.

Doctor: His concentration has grown slightly stronger, but nothing so acidic that he can’t do his normal activities.

Garis: Do I need to lower his intake?

Doctor: Umm, I wouldn’t say so. It just seems as he’s getting older, his Intergy is becoming stronger, so the acids within him are becoming more potent.

Garis: Does his food need less of a pH then?

Doctor: That was what I was going to suggest.

Garis: I know I asked this last time, but will he ever get to eat normal food?

Doctor: We don’t know. Sorry.

Garis: It’s fine.

Doctor: Is he doing fine back at home?

Garis: Yeah, he’s doing fine.

Doctor: Good to hear. Well, there’s really nothing new here to report.

Garis: Well, actually doctor. I have another question.

Doctor: Yes?

Garis: You’re probably not the person to ask about this, but Zan is becoming curious. Well, he’s always been curious. But, he’s been more curious about… organs.

Doctor: Be specific with me. What do you mean?

Garis: Like, the heart, lungs, kidneys. That kind of stuff.

Doctor: I see. He understands he doesn’t have any of that, right?

Garis: Yeah. He’s known. But now he’s asking about it.

Doctor: I think it’s fine he wants to learn about it. There’s nothing wrong with knowing. Is there something else I should be concerned about?

Garis: No. It’s just hard, I suppose.

Doctor: Explaining something like that to a child is hard I’m sure. But your boy is obviously really smart. Take some time teaching him about the human body, even though he doesn’t have all the same anatomy as the rest us. Sometimes knowledge is all we need to accept who we are.

Garis (nodding): Thank you doctor.

Weeks had passed. The season had begun to shift, and the wind carried a sharper edge as it swept through the polished stone of Krutone’s residential district. Zan stood barefoot in the backyard again, his small frame still and shadowed in the late afternoon light. His gaze was fixed upward. Two birds perched on the upper branch of a sleek-leaved tree, chirping softly to one another before leaping into the air. They twisted through the sky in a graceful loop— free, effortless, synchronized. Zan followed them with his eyes, unmoving. There was something in the way they moved… not just the flight, but the rhythm. The freedom. The connection. He pressed his hand lightly to his chest where a heartbeat should have been. Then the two birds landed on the tree again, chirping. Zan raised his index finger to each of the birds and shot them both down with a bullet of acid. The two birds dropped dead. He approached the freshly killed birds, but one still happened to be alive, struggling to breathe. Zan picked up the one still alive.

Zan: Lungs… so your heart can move… oxygen… I think I got that one right.

He pushes into the head of the bird.

Zan: And inside there, is the brain. It’s how you… work.

Zan pauses.

Zan: But I don’t have any of those… so how do I work? How do I speak? And why do I need to take shape of a human?...

The bird slowly stops chirping. Blood is all over his hands.

Zan: And now, you’re dead…

Zan thinks harder too.

Zan: You’re dead because… you have those parts… You need them to live.

Zan sighs as if he needs to breathe— a human trait, habit, or expression he’s learned.

Zan: But I don’t have those parts… so can I die?

Neela steps in from the backdoor. She gasps.

Neela: Zan! You’re killing birds again!

Zan turns around.

Zan: No!

Neela: Dad said to stop doing that.

Neela approaches Zan.

Neela: Ew, gross! You have blood on your hands!

Zan: I can burn it off.

Neela: Why are you doing that stuff? That’s disgusting!

Zan: I wanted to see.

Neela: See what? You’re sick for doing that. I’m telling Dad.

Zan: No! Don’t tell him.

Neela: Dad said to stop killing little animals, and you’re still doing it.

Zan: Don’t tell Dad. I don’t want to go to church.

Neela: Well, maybe you do need the prayers.

Zan: Please don’t tell Dad. I’m going to burn these birds away fast, I promise—

Neela: Ew!!! That’s so bad, Zan!

Zan: Tell me you won’t tell Dad.

Neela: I’m gonna tell him.

Zan: No Neela!

Neela: When he gets back.

Zan: Neela! Please. He’s going to get mad at me!

Neela: I have to tell—

Zan: No Neela!

Zan slapped Neela… but his fear and anger got the best of him. Without realizing, his hand liquified into acid. He tore and burned through her face, and some acid spilled over her neck. Neela couldn’t even scream because her throat was burned into. At first, he didn’t recognize what was happening. Neela fell to the ground struggling to breathe.

Zan: Neela!

Zan could clearly see her suffering, but he was panicking. He didn’t know what to do. So, he stood there in shock. Zan killed Neela.

Ten years passed. Zan sat alone in a large containment chamber, its walls forged from reinforced Intergy glass— a prison designed for him and him alone. The structure glowed faintly, etched with containment runes and pulsing conduits, humming with the quiet insistence of power. There were no windows. No furnishings. Just a sterile cube of light and silence, suspended like a forgotten artifact deep within Krutone’s subterranean research zone. Zan didn’t move much anymore. There was nowhere to go.

A whirring sound echoed through the chamber as a service robot approached. Without words, it extended its arms and activated a precision laser, cutting a perfect slit into the glass. The opening hissed against the pressure shift. Carefully, the robot set down a small tray of corroded batteries— acid cells, used, discarded, decaying. Then, without acknowledgement, the robot turned and exited, the Intergy seal forming again with a crystalline shimmer behind it.

Zan crawled forward in silence. His once-small frame had stretched over the years— taller now, but still wiry, still unnatural. He picked up one of the batteries and sank his teeth into the metal. A soft crackle sounded as acid burst across his tongue. He chewed slowly.

Footsteps echoed outside the glass. The doctor arrived, just as he always did. The same one from his childhood— older now, but still clinical, still clean. He said nothing at first, only tapped on his holopad while watching Zan eat. His eyes didn’t carry judgment. Not sympathy either. Just calculation. Just observation. That was all Zan was now. A variable. A case study. A prisoner of science and his own body.

Zan: Hey doc.

No response.

Zan: Today marks ten years right? I’ve been here for ten years?

No response.

Footsteps echoed again. A nurse approached. She was younger. Maybe new. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. Her eyes flicked toward Zan, just for a moment, then quickly away.

Nurse: It’s been a while since he’s spoken?

Doctor: Doesn’t matter.

The doctor continued scrolling through data on his holopad, not even glancing up.

Nurse: Has anyone visited him yet? Aside from us?

Doctor: No.

Nurse: Ten years and no one has come to see him.

The doctor continued evaluating his notes.

Nurse: His father still sees him as a monster I guess.

The doctor raised his index finger over his lips, gesturing to the nurse to be quiet.

Doctor: He can hear you.

Nurse: Oh. I’m sorry.

The nurse looked at Zan who seemed disappointed. Then she looked away, pretending to not have said anything hurtful.

Nurse: How long will we have him here for?

Doctor: Until he dies. He’s ours to research on for as long as we want. And even after we’re done, Cayten still doesn’t want him out.

Nurse: Cayten really enjoys this project, doesn’t he?

Doctor: He and his family are the ones who fund these mutation projects.

Nurse: Oh, I didn’t know that! He was the one who was assigned to Zan’s creation, right? Cayten was the one who miscalculated the dosage for Zan as a fetus?

The doctor glanced to Zan and gestured once more for the nurse to remain quiet.

Doctor: Shall we talk about this outside?

Nurse: Oh, right. Yes, that’s fine.

The doctor and nurse leave the room. Zan heard it all. He stayed quiet and remained seated against the thick glass wall. It was information he already knew though. He took some time to look at his hands then laid down to rest on his side.

Present time. The Krutone Hospital was nearly silent. Night had settled and only a few dim lights traced the hallways like fading lifelines. Garis lay in a hospital bed, thin and frail beneath starched white sheets, his breath shallow, his skin papery and pale. Monitors beeped softly at his side, steady but tired. He stared at the ceiling, alone until a ripple of darkness stirred in the corner of the room. Aku emerged from the shadow like a fracture in reality, his presence silent and immediate. Garis jolted, mouth parting to scream—but Aku raised a single finger to his lips. A quiet gesture. Be still. Garis froze. Then Aku opened a portal. Panic rose in Garis’s throat, and he inhaled sharply, ready to shout for help. But before a sound could escape, a coil of darkness surged forward, sealing his lips together with a quiet hiss. The room held its breath.

From the other side of the portal, Zan stepped through. Older now. Taller. No longer the curious child, but a walking enigma wrapped in quiet menace. He wore a grin—not wide, but slow and sharp. He dragged a nearby chair across the floor and placed it beside the hospital bed, the scrape loud in the stillness. Then, he sat down and smiled at his father. Zan released the dark Intergy from Garis’s lips.

Garis: Zan!

Zan: Shh… hey pops! Been a while. A long while.

Garis: What are you doing here?

Zan: I came to visit. Aren’t you glad to see me?

Garis: I was told you left Krutone.

Zan: I did. I got to see a little bit of what’s beyond the walls of Krutone. Very interesting world out there. Wish I could tell you all about it.

Garis: What do you want with me? Why are you here?

Zan: I just wanted to see how you were doing.

Garis: How did you find me?

Zan: My buddies found you.

Garis: Your buddies?...

Zan: Yes, dad. I have friends. Isn’t that kind of crazy? They’re really nice to me!

Garis looked to Aku then back to Zan.

Zan: That’s Aku. My buddy Mayzen was the one who found you. Sensory dude. His experiment was a success unlike mine.

Garis: Zan. That wasn’t my doing.

Zan: I saw the papers. You signed it. Both you and mother agreed to mutate me when I was conceived. You wanted me to come out powerful like the other mutated children. Only problem is there was an error when mother was injected with the Intergy serum.

Garis: You know?

Zan: My buddy Mayzen has a way of getting me information. I know the truth. I know Cayten is the one responsible for the experiments and how he specifically was the one who messed up my numbers.

Garis: You met with Cayten?

Zan: No. Not yet. I wanted to be sure the first person I visit was the one who raised me.

Silence.

Zan: You, pops!

Garis slowly tried reaching for his alert button. He pressed it. Nothing happened.

Zan: Oh yeah, about that. Aku cut the line already. And the security camera up there? Cut also. You’re facing me tonight.

Garis: Zan, you can’t—

Zan: Nah. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do. You’re not my dad.

Garis: Zan—

Zan: You never even came to see me. I get it. Killing Neela was wild. I didn’t mean to, of course. But you made me like this. I’m this way because of you.

Garis: Zan, it was a failed mutation.

Zan: Yeah, yeah. I know. Too bad Yeshma couldn’t deliver me. I miss when you would pray for me. You would take me to church every week, but never when everyone else was around. Always had to be secluded.

Garis: It was so you could have one on one time.

Zan: No, no. Don’t lie. It was because you were afraid I might accidentally kill someone. Fair reason though. But it does suck that you always saw me as a monster.

Garis: I never saw you as a monster, Zan.

Zan: Oh, stop it. You’re so silly. I know you looked at me that way.

A small pause.

Garis: So, why are you back then? What brings you back to Krutone?

Zan: To help my buddy over there with a mission.

Garis: And what is that?

Zan shrugs with confidence.

Zan: Kill Kyto.

Garis: No way. You’re insane.

Zan: Not really.

Garis: I’ll scream for—

Garis mouth was shut by Intergy pressure and frozen by darkness. Aku had reacted.

Zan: Isn’t in kind of crazy?... I killed mom when I was born. I killed Neela on accident. And now, I’m going to kill you.

Garis tried screaming through his mouth shut.

Zan: No one’s going to hear you. You see, Aku here can conceal presence. Kind of a unique ability. No sensory users have any idea we’re here.

Garis could be heard choking underneath his closed mouth.

Zan: Oh, it’s already reached you!?

One of Zan’s hands hung casually behind his back, but a single finger had quietly liquefied into acid. It looped upward in a thin, precise strand, dripping silently into the IV bag above Garis’s bed. Moments later, Garis’s body tensed, his eyes widening as a deep, unnatural heat began to spread through his veins. Something inside him was burning.

Zan: Man, there was so much more I wanted to say to you. I guess my acid is that concentrated these days. Does it burn?

Garis is struggling but Aku’s darkness is slightly freezing Garis in place.

Zan: I guess our time has been cut short. So sad. I wanted to let you know how much I missed you.

Zan reached out with his other hand and placed it on top of Garis’s near frozen arm.

Zan: Let’s pray.

Zan bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Zan: Oh Yeshma… Lord of purity, of light, of healing… I pray for my father. He brought me to your house in silence and offered you my sickness like a tithe. He prayed over me with holy hands while I sat still, obedient, broken. He said I could be clean if I knelt long enough. So now I deliver him back to you, burning from the inside, like I did for years. They said you would burn the disorder out of boys like me. So here. Take back the man who believed that as he burns from inside. I pray you see him, Yeshma. And if you are as righteous as they say… you’ll judge him fairly. And if you are not… then you’ll welcome him home. Because monsters like him always find a seat at your table. Amen.

Zan finally looked up. Garis was staring back, eyes bloodshot and bulging, veins glowing faintly beneath his skin as the acid threaded its way through his body. His chest heaved, spasming, but he couldn’t scream, only tremble. Their eyes locked. Father and son. Creator and creation. One full of agony, the other utterly calm. And Zan… just watched. No pity. No fear. No joy. Just silence. Then, slowly, Garis’s gaze lost focus. The red in his eyes dimmed. His body went still. He was dead.

Zan rose to his feet, the faint hiss of acid still whispering from his fingertips. With a slow breath, he curled his hand into a fist, and the liquid shimmer of his flesh solidified, reforming seamlessly into skin. The drip ceased. The silence thickened. He turned to face Aku, expression unreadable, as if nothing had happened at all.

Zan: Well, I guess it’s done.

Aku: You got what you wanted.

Zan: Yeah. Thanks. Gotta show Mayzen some thanks when we get back too.

Aku: What will you do now?

Zan: I’m still going to help you out.

Aku paused.

Zan: Why are you so shocked?

Aku: I’m in Krutone. You helped me get here. And I got you into your father’s room. Our deal is complete.

Zan: Yeah, well, I guess we’re here now.

Aku: What do you mean?

Zan: I used to think you were crazy.

Aku listened closer.

Zan: But, after finding out the truth about everything, I guess you’re really not crazy at all.

Aku: So, you want to help?

Zan: Nothing else for me to do. No where else to go. Besides, I’m supposed to be the monster… Krutone turned me into this. They looked at me like a spawn of evil. So… that’s what I’ll be then. I’ll be just that for them.

Aku looked intrigued.

Zan: Also, I believe in your mission. Plus, it’ll be fun to see what I can really do with the powers of The Orb you gave me. I’ve never felt so much Intergy flowing. Even as I wiped out Yumitra, I had so much left in me.

Aku: So, you’re going to continue helping me?

Zan: Yeah. I might as well as be useful. Use me as your tool until these bastards die because I also want to take down all these fuckers.

Aku looked Zan in the eye and nodded. He created a portal to the Void, and the two walked through, leaving behind Zan’s history.