Your thumb was mindlessly swiping through social media when your stomach growled. You glanced up, saw the familiar red hand of the crosswalk signal, and stepped off the curb, already thinking about which drive-thru had the shortest line.

The screech of tires was the first real thing you registered. Your head snapped up just in time to see a massive grille filling your entire world. The horn blared, a deafening blast, and then... nothing.

No crushing impact. No searing pain. Just a profound, suffocating blackness that felt like it lasted forever and a split second all at once. Then, a new sensation crept in. An emptiness so deep it was a physical ache in your gut, a gnawing hunger that made you want to scream. You tried to stretch, to move, but your limbs felt like lead weights, useless and floppy. Your eyelids felt glued shut, but you fought them, prying them open to a blur of gold and pastel pink.

A face swam into view, soft and round, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, is our little royalty hungry again?" she cooed.

Royalty? The word hit you like a physical blow. You tried to speak, "A royal what now!?" but what came out was a wet, garbled string of nonsense. "Gah... buh... da!" You thrashed, trying to sit up, to prove you were a grown person, but your body betrayed you, flopping uselessly in the soft confines of what you now realized was a crib. The sheer horror of it all crashed down on you. You were a baby.

"Oh dear, little one, what's wrong?" She reached for you, but before her fingers could touch you, the heavy oak door slammed open with a bang that rattled the windowpanes. The air in the room changed instantly, growing thick and heavy with the metallic tang of fresh blood.

The maid scrambled back, pressing herself flat against the wall, her head bowed so low her chin nearly touched her chest. A figure filled the doorway, a man carved from shadow and steel. He was massive, clad in dark, gleaming armor that was splattered with crimson. Each step he took was heavy. His scarlet eyes, cold and grey as a winter sky, found you immediately.

Flanking him were two boys, miniature versions of the man, also in armor, though theirs was less ornate and more scuffed. One, a bit older with a severe expression, stood rigidly at attention. The younger one, with a wild look in his eyes, couldn't contain his energy.

The younger one, Damien, darted forward before the older one could stop him. He reached into the crib, his clumsy fingers poking and prodding at you as if you were a new puppy. "Their so small!" he chirped.

"Brother, cease your pestering," the older prince, Adelio, snapped, his voice sharp. He strode forward and roughly yanked Damien's ear. "You will not approach them covered in filth. Have you no decorum?" Damien yelped and stumbled back, rubbing his ear and glaring.

Zephyrion, ignored his squabbling princes. He reached the crib, his shadow falling over you like a shroud. He hooked a single, finger into your swaddle and lifted you, dangling you upside down by one tiny foot. You swung there, helpless, as his dead eyes roamed over every inch of you. A low sound rumbled in his chest, "Is this pathetic mewling thing truly my get?"

The lingering hunger churned in your tiny stomach. Your face twisted, and before you could stop it, a warm, milky stream of vomit shot out, arcing through the air and landing directly on the Emperor's cheek.

A choked gasp came from the corner where the maid was frozen, her face the color of ash. Zephyrion slowly wiped the puke from his face with the back of his gauntlet, a strange thing happened. The corner of his mouth, the one not smeared with your spit-up, twitched. A faint, terrifying smile touched his lips.

"Hmph," he grunted, the sound almost amused. "Such spirit. This little rodent is indeed my offspring."