---
A Hunger That Would Not End
Aeron's body was still.
The taste of Selene lingered on his tongue—thick, metallic, raw.
It was nothing like food. Nothing like the meals he had eaten in his old life.
This was different.
This was power.
His stomach churned, and yet, something inside him purred with satisfaction.
Selene's essence—her warmth, her life—had been torn from her body and made part of him.
He could still feel her, faint and fleeting, fading deeper into his being with every passing second.
And that was when he realized—
It wasn't just hunger.
It was absorption.
Every piece of her he had consumed had become his.
Her energy.
Her vitality.
Her very soul.
All of it was his now.
He exhaled shakily, looking down at his hands. They trembled—not with fear, not with grief, but with something far worse.
Something thrilling.
Something right.
Aeron clenched his fists.
His heartbeat was slow. Steady.
He had expected to feel broken. To feel some kind of sickness, some unbearable remorse that would crush him beneath its weight.
But there was nothing.
No regret.
No sorrow.
No pain.
Only hunger.
A hollow void where his humanity used to be.
And Malik—
Malik had known this would happen.
---
Lessons in Consumption
Aeron forced himself to lift his head.
His father stood over him, arms crossed, watching with that same patient, knowing gaze.
He had always watched.
Like a teacher waiting for a student to solve a puzzle.
Like a sculptor waiting for the final piece to fall into place.
Like a god looking down at his creation.
"Well?" Malik said softly.
Aeron swallowed, the metallic tang of blood still clinging to his throat.
"…What now?"
His voice was hoarse.
Malik smiled.
"Now, you finish what you started."
Aeron frowned, breath still uneven. "Finish?"
Malik's hand moved.
A flick of the wrist.
A command.
A body was tossed in front of him.
A man.
Still breathing.
Still alive.
Bound hands. A gag in his mouth.
Eyes wide with terror.
A sacrifice.
A gift.
A test.
Aeron stiffened. His breath caught in his throat.
The hunger snarled.
His stomach clenched.
His fingers itched.
Malik crouched beside him, voice low, coaxing.
"You hesitate."
Aeron's fingers curled into fists.
His nails dug into his palms.
Malik tilted his head. "Why?"
Aeron's pulse thundered in his ears.
He couldn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Selene had been different.
Selene had been an accident.
A moment of madness. A loss of control.
But this—
This was a choice.
Aeron's breathing quickened.
His mind screamed at him to refuse, to look away, to be human.
But the hunger—
The hunger did not care.
It only saw food.
Malik's voice was soft. "Eat, Aeron."
Aeron swallowed hard.
His mouth was dry.
His body was shaking.
But the hunger—
The hunger was waiting.
His muscles twitched.
His hands moved.
The man screamed.
Aeron's vision blurred, his heart pounding, his senses filled with the sound of flesh tearing, of warm blood spilling over his fingers, of frantic, desperate struggling—
And then—
Silence.
The body went limp.
The warmth faded.
Aeron's hands were shaking.
His lips were wet with blood.
But his stomach—
His stomach was full.
And yet.
The hunger remained.
---
The Breaking of Chains
Malik exhaled, slow and satisfied.
"You understand now."
Aeron stared at his father, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
His hands—his hands were still trembling.
Not with horror.
Not with disgust.
But with anticipation.
Malik reached forward.
Gripped Aeron's chin.
Forced him to look up.
"You hesitate because you are still thinking like a man."
Aeron's breath hitched.
Malik's fingers tightened.
"You are not a man anymore, Aeron."
The words sent a shiver down his spine.
"You are something greater."
Aeron swallowed.
Malik's gaze burned into him, unwavering.
"You are what humans fear."
His father leaned closer.
"You are what gods deny."
Aeron's blood ran cold.
Malik's voice was barely a whisper.
"You are hunger itself."
Aeron's chest ached.
Something inside him cracked.
Something human.
Something fragile.
And in its place—
Something else took root.
Something dark.
Something endless.
Aeron's lips parted.
His breathing slowed.
His hands steadied.
Malik smiled.
He saw it.
He saw the change.
And he laughed.
---
Gluttony is Born
Aeron stood.
His legs no longer shook.
His hands no longer trembled.
The blood at the corners of his mouth was still warm, still fresh.
And he didn't wipe it away.
Malik nodded in approval.
"You're ready."
Aeron met his father's gaze.
For the first time—
He did not flinch.
For the first time—
He felt nothing.
No fear.
No hesitation.
No guilt.
Only hunger.
It curled inside him like a living thing.
Like a fire that would never go out.
Like a god that would never be satisfied.
Malik took a step back, his eyes gleaming.
"Now," he murmured.
"Let's begin."