Standing at the top of the shattered staircase, twelve-year-old Hide clutched the splintered wooden banister, his knuckles white, tears streaming silently down his pale cheeks.
His large ocean-blue eyes—so innocent, so unaccustomed to the cruel realities of the world—were locked in pure, helpless terror on the scene below.
"Mom...?" Hide whimpered, his voice trembling so violently it barely carried across the room.
Rosh slowly rotated his featureless, starry head away from Erin. For the first time in his life, Rosh faced his own brother.
Rosh stood completely silent. Beneath his shifting, non-Euclidean void form, his mind was a storm of alien instincts and fragmented memories. He didn't know what to say to this human child who carried their mother's hair. He felt no brotherly affection, only a strange, unsettling curiosity.
Without uttering a single word, Rosh casually raised a dark, talon-like finger and pointed it directly at Hide.
Grrr-RAAAR!
