[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/315998304305545227/315998637735936004/coollogo_com-39941120.png[/img][/center]
[center][sub][h3]Volume 1[/h3][/sub][/center]
[center][sub][h3]Issue 7[/h3][/sub][/center]
[sub][sub][h3]Afternoon, Present Day[/h3][/sub][/sub]
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Around the circular table the purveyors of the Amim family sat. At the head, the matriarch: Bibi, on the sides: Rahna to the right, Shati to the left; and the focus of the three women’s ire, intrigue, and worry sat with eyes dug into him at the opposite end of Bibi: Pantheon. Clad in the same abyss black he had been wearing since his transformation during the LHU attack, Pantheon beheld a look of worry of his own. Silence would have coiled the room if it were not for the crackle of skillet which cooked the half-scrambled eggs. A mightier flame singed through Bibi Amim’s pensive gaze as her eyes lay on the behemoth who sat across from her, this thing which purported to be her son.

Bibi unlocked her sealed lips in order to speak. Her attempt was thwarted by her eldest daughter, Rahna, who was unsure of how to begin but would save herself, her younger brother, and her baby cousin from her mother’s incessant questioning any way she could,

“Uh, so! Well, let’s, let’s get down to it!” Rahna shuffled uncomfortably, like the other women of the family, her ebony hair bellowed down a thin back, it swung about as she went to readjust herself in the chair, “I guess I should keep this short and simple… uh, this here” she pointed to Pantheon, “is Pantheon, as I’m sure you know, ma. How do I say this, uh--well, he’s, it. . . no. he’s, he’s [i]us.[/i]”

Whether from disbelief or indignation, Bibi rose from her chair and over to the stove where she killed the stove burners and grabbed the inferior pan and secured a plastic plate--though these were her children, none of them were deserving of her fine china this afternoon--and dumped the partially scrambled eggs onto the plate, the other portion of the eggs was beginning to form an omelette. Bibi carried the eggs to the table and set them down before sliding them across the table toward the behemoth in black. Pantheon glared down at the strangely cooked food before him: Hassan’s inclination was to eat them, human  garbage can that he was--Pantheon would not touch such mortal garbage.

“Eat.” Bibi said, she was hospitable no matter what kind of mystical being entered her house, they would eat and they would like it.

“Ma, not now,” Rahna could sense the irritant her mother was about to be. Few channeled their passive aggressive feelings through food like Bibi Amim. Rahna continued,

“You remember how grandma used to tell those stories about the man who would come snatch us at night if we were bad? How he knew where we sleeped, what we thought? She was kind of right. Uh, that’s kind of what Pantheon is. Everything our family has ever achieved, he’s that… stuffed into one big muscled man who shares the same mind as your son.”

Bibi cackled, comically.

Shati paid little attention, she was much like Hassan in her apathy for gods and monsters, though she now could not deny them as previous. Her golden-brown eyes danced the length of the table to the man who had supposedly usurped her cousin’s place--yes, she would definitely use him in dealing with a few problems of her own in the future. A sly smile bloomed across her maturing face, she went back to scrolling on her cellphone.

Bibi stopped cackling, she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Rahna was becoming irritated. It was apparent to her she was the only one who understood the gravity of their situation, beneath the table she began tapping her foot against the wood floor,

“This is not something to be LAUGHING ABOUT!” it took nothing for Rahna’s temper to flare, it was instilled in all of the Amim’s in various degrees. Bibi furrowed a brow, a stern deflection of Rahna’s outburst. Bibi spurned back,

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO? I WILL--”
“OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!” Shati screamed,
“YOU ALWAYS THINK EVERYTHING IS A JO--” Rahna was cut off at the horn of Pantheon’s voice,

[color=yellow]“QUIET!”[/color] the lights flickered in the room, silence reborn. Pantheon scanned his rainbow colored eyes across the table, his eyes finally settled on Bibi. Hassan had kept Pantheon silent up until this point, but had receded when the shouting began, leaving all too much room for Pantheon himself to assume control,

[color=yellow]”Rahna is right. Once again, your lineage is in danger. What she is not telling you is that it is because of Rahna herself. I am sure, miss Amim, you know about the massacre at your university by these ‘Hounds of Humanity’; this is not the first nor the last of their activity. They are soon to hunt you and your children because of the nature of our bloodline. But these Hounds are secondary. The matter of my existence is simple: I am here to protect you and your progeny from extermination, but my appearance in any given generation of this lineage means that another threat is soon to return. A sorcerer, old as myself.”[/color]

A knock on the door and the screeching of tires. Hassan sensed something was wrong in his soul. He’d it wasn’t who he thought--he hoped it wasn’t the Hounds.