Claire held the scroll with trembling hands, her eyes scanning the ominous words for the hundredth time.
"The child must choose by midnight."
The clock on the wall ticked louder with each passing second, each tick like a countdown to something no one could stop.
Danny paced the room like a man walking the edge of a blade, his face etched with shadows and silent dread. He stopped by the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the clouds churned unnaturally—black, red, gold—like a storm bleeding into the sky.
Behind them, the child sat quietly in the center of a chalk-drawn circle. Calm. Too calm.
His small hand held a coin. One side blank. The other marked with an unfamiliar symbol—curved like a crescent fang.
Danny had faced death.
He had crossed the Veil.
He had bartered with forces older than creation itself.
But this moment? Watching his child hold the future in his tiny hands…
This was true fear.
Because the choice wasn't just about survival. It was about allegiance. Destiny. Ownership.
He wasn't sure if the boy still belonged to them… or if he had ever belonged to them at all.
The room was silent, but not still.
It thrummed with an unseen pulse—like the world itself was holding its breath.
The candlelight flickered wildly despite the absence of wind, like nervous flames whispering secrets to the dark.
Outside, time seemed to curl in on itself. The moon, high and full, appeared bruised—like an old eye watching the end of an era.
And at the center of it all, the boy…
a bomb that hadn't chosen whether to detonate or save.
The final chime struck midnight.
The boy stood up.
He looked at Danny. Then Claire.
And without hesitation—flipped the coin.
It spun in the air, catching the candlelight, glinting with unnatural brilliance.
Then it landed.
The marked side facing up.
The child spoke just one word.
"Bind."
The windows shattered.
The air turned black.
And from the floor, shadows rose—wearing faces that looked just like Danny's.