Zavrion's hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight with rage and grief. His voice trembled as he hissed,
"They dared to hurt Kenny this much… I won't spare them. I'll end every single one of them with my own hands!"
The very air around him shuddered, vibrating with the raw fury spilling from his Enigma pheromone. The walls of the hospital seemed to quiver, and those nearby began to feel sick, collapsing under the pressure.
Kin, weakened by the heavy scent, slumped onto a bench, clutching his head.
"Z–Zavrion… stop…" he whispered faintly.
Vixen quickly covered his nose, his own face grim. He stepped closer, placed a steady hand on Zavrion's shoulder, and spoke softly yet firmly.
"Calm down. I understand the fire inside you—I feel it too. I want revenge as much as you do. But if we are truly going to end this cult and their black magic once and for all, we need our minds cold and steady. Anger alone won't win this war."
Zavrion turned to look at his father, eyes blazing with unshed tears. Vixen's expression softened, his voice dipping into something heavy with memory.
"This village has suffered too long under these demonic spells. Zavrion… it didn't start yesterday, or even a hundred years ago. This torment began five hundred years ago. Your parents… we never sat idle, my son."
For a moment, silence fell. Then Vixen exhaled slowly and said, almost reluctantly,
"Perhaps it's time you heard the truth we've hidden from you."
Zavrion blinked, startled. "Truth?" His voice carried a wounded edge.
Vixen guided him to sit beside Kin, who still looked pale but nodded in agreement. Both fathers looked at their son with the weight of centuries in their eyes.
"Zavrion," Kin said softly, "listen to us carefully. We don't know if you'll believe us, but it's time you knew everything."
"I… why wouldn't I believe you?" Zavrion's voice cracked, a mixture of hurt and loyalty. "You're my parents. I trust you with my whole heart."
Hearing this, Vixen's stern expression wavered, emotions flickering through his eyes. He drew in a breath, then began to reveal the memories long buried. Slowly, he and Kin told Zavrion about their past lives—the truth of who they had been before, and the battles they had fought against the cult's darkness.
As their words unfolded, Zavrion's anger melted into awe. His heart pounded. He sat frozen, listening, astonished at every revelation, overwhelmed by love and admiration for the two men he called his parents.
But when he heard of black magic's roots, he asked quietly,
"Didn't either of you have pheromone powers in your past lives?"
Vixen shook his head. "No. I was reborn, yes… but I wasn't from Zemura then. I was born miles away from this cursed village. Still, I found my way back here. I searched for your daddy, Kin… searched everywhere for him. But I couldn't find him."
His gaze lowered, voice heavy with sorrow.
"I was born in 1886… a time when the whole world was drowning in blood and war. My memory of that life ends with a bullet tearing through me. That's all I can recall. But even in death, I was searching. Always searching."
Zavrion sat there, stunned, his chest tightening with emotions he couldn't name. His father's words carved themselves deep into him, leaving him speechless.
Just then, a nurse stepped into the corridor, her voice breaking through the heavy silence.
"Sir… you may see the patient now. He's been shifted to the ward."
The three of them—Vixen, Kin, and Zavrion—hurried down the hallway, hearts in their throats. When they entered the room, their breaths caught.
Kenny lay on the bed, his body wrapped in bandages, pale but alive. Cuts marked his face, arms, and forehead, the aftermath of the attack.
The moment Kenny spotted Zavrion, his weak eyes glimmered. Slowly, painfully, he lifted his hand, reaching out, his fingers trembling.
"Zav… rion…"
Zavrion's heart shattered at the sight. He rushed forward, tears threatening to spill, and clasped Kenny's hand tightly in his own, as if he'd never let go again.
To be Continued....