LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Chapter 127: Caged Cold Heart

Lyerin watched as Lina hurried out of the room, her movements sharp, betraying the urgency she tried to hide behind a facade of maternal concern.

The door clicked shut, Kabam! leaving him alone in the dim, stifling room.

He stood there for a moment, frozen in place, before letting out a long, tired breath.

His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the details of the space that was unmistakably his mother's.

The room was filled with Lina's presence, every inch of it saturated with her essence. His gaze landed on a delicate porcelain vase sitting on a small wooden table by the window.

The vase was painted with intricate patterns of blue and white, a design so familiar that it tugged at something deep within him.

He remembered it from his childhood, how Lina would carefully arrange fresh flowers in it every morning, her movements graceful and precise.

The scent of those flowers would fill the house, a subtle fragrance that had always been comforting to him.

Now, the vase was empty, and the room was devoid of that once-familiar scent. It was as if the flowers had died along with whatever love she might have once had for him.

Lyerin's eyes moved to the dresser on the far side of the room.

A delicate lace shawl was draped across the top, a soft cream color that contrasted with the dark wood.

He recognized it immediately.

Lina used to wear it on chilly evenings, wrapping it around her shoulders as she sat by the fire.

He could almost hear the soft rustle of the lace as she moved, the way she would sit so perfectly still, gazing into the flames with a look of quiet contemplation.

That shawl had been a part of so many memories, and yet now, it seemed like nothing more than an empty relic of the past.

On the wall above the dresser hung a series of framed photographs.

Lyerin's heart clenched as he took them in.

There were pictures of his siblings, both older and younger, all of them smiling and happy.

In every image, Lina stood beside them, her arms wrapped around their shoulders, her expression one of pride and love.

Lyerin wasn't in any of the photos.

His absence was a glaring void, a silent signal to the distance that had always existed between them.

He walked over to the dresser, reaching out to touch one of the frames. His fingers brushed against the glass, tracing the outline of his mother's face.

The glass was cold, unyielding, just like the woman herself.

A pang of melancholy swept through him, a deep, aching sadness that he couldn't shake.

He had always known that he was different, that he didn't belong in the same way his siblings did. But standing here, surrounded by these fragments of his mother's life, the reality of that truth felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

He moved away from the dresser, his eyes falling on a small jewelry box on the nightstand.

The box was carved from dark mahogany, its surface smooth and polished.

He opened it, revealing a collection of delicate trinkets—rings, necklaces, and earrings, all neatly arranged in their compartments.

He picked up a simple gold ring, turning it over in his hand.

He remembered Lina wearing it when he was a child, how she would twist it around her finger when she was deep in thought.

It had always seemed like a part of her, something that was as much a part of her identity as the smile she used to wear when she looked at his siblings.

Lyerin placed the ring back in the box, closing the lid with a soft click.

He took a step back, surveying the room once more.

Every object, every piece of furniture, every scent, and sound that lingered in the air—they all carried memories, echoes of a past that felt both distant and painfully close.

It was a room filled with the remnants of a life he had never truly been a part of, a life that had always been just out of reach.

He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as the weight of his thoughts bore down on him.

"I should have known," he whispered to himself, the words barely audible in the quiet room.

He had known, deep down, that his mother would betray him.

He had known it from the moment he had decided to save her, to bring her back into his life, despite everything.

It had been a test, a final, desperate attempt to see if there was anything left of the mother he had once loved. But now, standing in this room, surrounded by the ghosts of his past, he realized how foolish he had been.

"Who am I fooling?"

Lyerin murmured, his voice bitter with self-reproach.

"I should have known when I realized that I have older siblings and younger siblings that I haven't even met. I should have known when I found out that she carried them to term without me ever knowing, without her ever telling me."

He let out a humorless laugh, the sound hollow and bitter.

"Our communication was always on call, and for four years, I didn't even see her. And then, just before the Apocalypse, she appeared out of nowhere, telling me to stay put, to be a good son. It was all just a way to keep me in line, to make sure I would stay where I should be, where she wanted me."

The laughter broke free from his chest, wild and uncontrollable.

It was the laughter of a man who had finally seen the truth, a truth that had been staring him in the face all along.

"Ahahahahaha!"

The sound echoed through the empty room, bouncing off the walls like a madman's cry.

Lyerin doubled over, clutching his sides as the laughter wracked his body.

But then, as suddenly as it had started, the laughter died away, leaving only silence in its wake. MVLeMpYr-the-story-platform

Lyerin straightened up, wiping away the tears that had sprung to his eyes.

He stood there, breathing heavily, as a sudden, sharp crack echoed through the room.

CREAAAAAKKKKK!!

Lyerin's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room for the source of the sound.

Another crack followed, then another, and another.

CREAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKK!!!

He watched in silence as the walls began to fracture, fine lines snaking across the surface like a web.

The cracks multiplied, spreading across the room with a speed that was almost unnatural.

CRAACKKK!! CREAAAAKKKKK!! CREAAAAKKKKK!!!

The walls groaned under the strain, the sound deep and ominous, as if the room itself was being torn apart from the inside.

Lyerin didn't move, his face impassive as he watched the destruction unfold around him.

It was as if he had expected this, as if he had known all along that this moment would come.

Another crack appeared, this time running across the ceiling.

The plaster crumbled away, sending a shower of dust and debris down into the room.

Lyerin didn't flinch as the dust settled around him, coating his hair and shoulders in a fine layer of white. He stood there, still and silent, as the room continued to fall apart around him.

The floor beneath his feet began to shake, RUMBLE!! trembling with the force of the room's disintegration.

The walls buckled, the cracks widening until they were gaping holes, exposing the skeletal framework beneath.

KABAG!

The entire room shuddered, as if it were teetering on the brink of collapse.

And then, with a deafening crash, the walls gave way.

BAAAANNNGGH!!!

The room crumbled in on itself, the force of the collapse sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.

Lyerin remained unmoved, with his only left hand still resting in his pocket as the room around him was reduced to rubble.

The dust hung in the air, thick and choking, obscuring everything from view.

For a long moment, there was only silence, the stillness broken only by the occasional sound of debris settling into place. And then, as the dust began to clear, Lyerin saw them—shadowy figures, lurking in the haze.

They surrounded him, their forms indistinct, blending with the dust and shadows. But Lyerin could feel their presence, their eyes on him, watching him from every angle.

He stood in the center of the room, now nothing more than a pile of rubble, as the figures closed in around him.

Lyerin remained still, his gaze steady as he took in the sight before him. He knew what was happening.

He had known it all along, from the moment he had stepped into this room.

This was the endgame, the moment when everything would finally come to light.

As the dust settled, Lyerin clenched his fists, his mind racing with possibilities.

The shadows grew closer, their forms becoming more distinct with each passing second. He could see their eyes now, glowing faintly in the darkness, filled with a malevolent intent.

But Lyerin didn't waver. He had been preparing for this moment, this confrontation. And now that it had arrived, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, a clarity that cut through the chaos like a knife.

Whatever happened next, he was ready, but he was also calm about it.