Sephirot did not shake hands, merely offering a slight nod. "Let's get straight to the point. How do you intend to handle this matter?"
Faced with such a forceful and blunt inquiry, Steve looked troubled.
In a hospital setting, this type of family member was often the most difficult to deal with.
He had expected the other party to exchange some hypocritical pleasantries before stating his purpose; he hadn't expected him to bypass all of that and go straight to the main subject.
However, Steve knew he was in the wrong, and given that the compensation offered by the other party was indeed generous, he was prepared to compromise.
Steve opened his mouth, ready to yield. "We know the cause of this incident..."
"So you're the one backing that murderer?!"
His wife, Annie, suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, cutting him off.
"My son is dead! Killed by that little bitch!"
Annie's features contorted as she gripped the table with both hands.
The roar instantly drew the attention of every other customer in the shop.
Sephirot remained calm, ignoring her outburst.
He looked at the restless Steve sitting opposite him and said:
"Mr. Steve, I am here to resolve the issue. I have no interest in engaging in a war of words."
Steve nodded with a hint of apology. He was about to reach out to restrain Annie, but she shouted again with uncharacteristic intensity:
"I don't want your filthy money! I only have one demand!"
Annie's bloodshot eyes locked onto Sephirot, her gaze flickering with a trace of greed that was difficult to detect.
"You, and that girl named Carrie, must come back home with me in person!"
She panted heavily and continued, "You must stand at my son's funeral and bow your heads to admit your faults! As long as you come back with me and apologize like good little puppets, I will go to the police station and drop all charges!"
Sephirot sat in his seat, watching her quietly.
Wasn't it said that they had been relentlessly digging for more compensation? Why the sudden change of heart now?
However, when things are unusual, there is always a catch.
The woman carried the scent of a demon, and she had made such a bizarre request.
It was hard for him not to think of things like human sacrifice or resurrection rituals.
He looked at Steve and asked, "Is this your current demand?"
Steve opened his mouth in shock, completely blindsided by his wife's proposal.
But on second thought, he figured his wife might have just been acting out previously due to excessive grief.
Now that they had secured a high amount of compensation, demanding an apology from the perpetrator at their son's funeral seemed reasonable enough.
He nodded and said to Sephirot, "Yes. As my wife said, just one apology, and this matter ends here."
"An apology is acceptable."
Sephirot looked at Steve. "However, after what happened, that girl has been severely traumatized. She is suffering from depression and is now afraid to leave the house."
"I will attend the funeral in her stead to apologize to your child."
He wanted to see exactly what kind of scheme this family was cooking up. If there really was a problem, it would be best to resolve it all at once to avoid leaving any lingering trouble behind.
Seeing Sephirot agree, Annie immediately blurted out the time and location of the funeral, terrified that he might change his mind.
This display of desperation only deepened Sephirot's internal suspicions.
Steve's family residence was situated deep within a secluded woodland, a three-story villa with a vintage design.
The car stopped by the roadside, and Sephirot stepped out.
The air carried a crisp, woody fragrance. In front of the villa, a treehouse had been built into a large tree.
However, his attention was drawn to a group of people beneath the tree.
Several men and women in suits stood in the shadows.
They didn't speak or move; they simply stared straight at him with stiff, frozen smiles.
"Cultists?"
Sephirot's eyes narrowed slightly.
He straightened his clothes and walked toward the villa.
When he rang the bell, Steve opened the door.
After just one day apart, the man looked even more exhausted. His hair was a mess, and his face was covered in unshaven stubble.
"Annie is upstairs preparing... please, come in."
Steve managed to squeeze out a strained smile.
Inside, the curtains were drawn tight, leaving the rooms in dim light.
Various miniature models were laid out on the tables, one of a hospital bed, another of this very house.
Bizarrely, every miniature figure representing a person had its head snipped off cleanly at the neck.
Cluck.
A strange clicking sound suddenly echoed above the living room.
It wasn't loud, but in the eerie house, it sounded exceptionally unsettling.
Sephirot looked up toward the sound. There was no one there, only a hanging lamp.
"Did you hear that?"
Sephirot looked at Steve.
Steve's body stiffened. "That... is the sound my youngest daughter, Charlie, loved to make when she was alive."
"Since she passed away, that sound has been echoing through this house for the past few days for no reason."
"Annie says it's Charlie coming back to see her."
He closed his eyes in pain and shook his head. "She's gone mad. Please, just leave as soon as you've finished your apology."
Sephirot suddenly turned his head toward the second floor.
There, Annie was already standing by the railing, staring down at him from above.
Unlike her hysterical state at the cafe, her face today was completely expressionless, her hands hanging limply at her sides.
"Mr. Sephirot, since you are here to apologize, please come up to the attic."
Annie's tone was flat. Having said her piece, her silhouette gradually receded into the darkness.
Without a change in expression, Sephirot stepped onto the second floor.
The upstairs hallway was pitch black, resembling the yawning maw of an abyss waiting to swallow the living.
In the middle of the hallway, a folding ladder hung down from an opening in the ceiling.
Sephirot looked up.
Candlelight flickered within the attic, casting several shifting shadows against its ceiling.
He bent his knees slightly, his muscles tensing.
Bang! Sephirot leaped directly, vaulting through the opening and into the attic.
The attic space was not small, its perimeter lined with lit candles.
And Annie, who had been standing in the hallway just a moment ago, was now floating in mid-air within the attic.
A length of piano wire was wrapped between her hands, pressed against her own neck, sawing back and forth as bright red blood cascaded down her clothes like a waterfall.
Even so, Annie seemed to feel no pain, her eyes fixed in a death stare on Sephirot.
The corners of her mouth tore open, revealing a hideous smile.
At the same time, from the shadows in the corners of the attic, over a dozen naked men and women slowly stepped out.
Their skin was a deathly pale, and every single one of them wore the exact same smile as Annie, clutching daggers in their hands.
Sephirot glanced down at his feet; he was standing right in the center of a Magic circle drawn in blood, which was currently emitting a faint red glow.
"I see."
He understood clearly now.
This group was indeed trying to summon a demon, and it appeared they had chosen him as the sacrifice.
"Kill him!"
Those naked cult members let out low growls, raising their daggers as they lunged at Sephirot.
Sephirot's gaze turned cold. He gripped Alastor with one hand, magic surging into the blade as he unleashed a simple horizontal sweep.
Slash!
A flash of lightning streaked across the room. All the cult members lunging at him froze simultaneously, their bodies stiffening in mid-sprint.
A second later, a line of blood surfaced across their torsos. The upper halves of over a dozen people slid off in unison, and the resulting spray of blood extinguished most of the surrounding candles.
As if sensing that the ritual had been disturbed, the Magic circle beneath Sephirot's feet abruptly erupted with a blinding red light.
A wave of cold, sinister malice manifested out of thin air, drifting toward Annie as she suspended in the air.
The hands Annie had been using to saw at her own neck came to a halt.
(Translated by yourtl.app)
─────────────────────────────────────────
TL NOTES — CROSSOVER GUIDE
Some references in this chapter come from source universes that may be unfamiliar to some readers. The notes below provide the context needed to understand them without leaving the page.
SOURCE UNIVERSES
Hereditary — A supernatural horror film following the Graham family: Annie, a miniature artist; her husband Steve; their teenage son Peter; and their strange young daughter Charlie. When the family's secretive grandmother dies, a series of nightmarish events begins to unravel. It is eventually revealed that the grandmother was the leader of a cult dedicated to summoning the demon King Paimon, and that she had spent decades grooming her own bloodline as vessels for the ritual. Charlie, chosen as the initial vessel, is killed early in the film in a sudden car accident that decapitates her. Her death breaks Annie, who slowly descends into obsession and then full possession. The film ends with the cult completing the ritual in the attic: Annie, possessed, levitates through the house and decapitates herself with piano wire against the attic window; the cult members then crown her son Peter as Paimon's true host. Steve and Annie Graham, their daughter Charlie, the miniature models, and the attic ritual in this chapter are all direct references to this film.
CHARACTERS
Annie Graham — The mother of the Graham family. In Hereditary, she is a miniature artist whose meticulously detailed models sometimes mirror real events in disturbing ways. She is slowly revealed to be an unwitting instrument of the cult, culminating in her floating through the attic and cutting her own throat with piano wire while fully possessed. The chapter reproduces this scene directly.
Steve Graham — Annie's husband. He is largely unaware of the cult's true purpose and spends the film trying to hold the family together as everything collapses around him.
Charlie — The Grahams' young daughter. She makes a distinctive tongue-click throughout the film, which becomes associated with the demon's presence after her death. She is killed abruptly in a car accident early in the story. Her clicking continuing to echo through the house, exactly as described in this chapter, is one of the film's most haunting recurring elements.
CONCEPTS
King Paimon — The demon at the center of Hereditary's cult, drawn from real occult tradition as one of the eight kings of Hell. Paimon requires a male human host. The entire Graham family tragedy is engineered by the cult to bring him into the world, with the attic blood ritual as the final step.