God of Destruction: Living Among Mortals

Cain stood there in the bloody mess of the room, his hands slightly shaking a little from the rage, and from something else. The wolves had done their job, tearing through those potential traitors like they were a piece of paper.

Bones cracked, flesh ripped, and now all that was left was a grim pile of leftovers on the floor. He wiped some blood off his sleeve, feeling the stickiness. It made him sick, but not in a bad way. More like, this was just another casual day of running TNT.

He turned to his butlers, Viktor and Silas. Viktor was the big, quiet one with scars all over his face from old fights. Silas was slimmer, always smirking like he knew something you didn't. It was creepy to say the least. They'd been with him since he was a kid, back when life wasn't all about power and betrayal.

"Find them," Cain said, his voice low and snarly, some alternative version of guttural. "Every last one of those rebels. Feed them to the wolves. They're still hungry."

Viktor nodded, no question. "Yes, boss. We'll hunt them down."

Silas gave a little bow, his eyes sharp. "Consider it done. No one disobeys the young master."

They left the room quickly, their footsteps echoing down the dark halls of the fortress. Cain watched them go, feeling a bit alone in the big empty space. Well, it wasn't that empty now, was it?

The air smelled of blood, mixed with fear, and that brewed in a cauldron with metal. It wasn't the best smell, but it was a smell that he enjoyed. The wall felt like they were closing in. He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the anger.

Running TNT was supposed to make him strong, but lately, it just made him tired. All the killing, the scheming, it was all too repetitive, like a nightmare on repeat.

He needed to calm down. Clear his head. And there was only one place that ever made him feel normal. Japan. Where Hana and Kiwi lived. Hana, his wife, the one who saw through all his crap. And Kiwi, oh sweet Kiwi, their little girl, all innocent and full of life.

She was eleven now, living in a quiet house outside of Tokyo. Hana kept her safe and away from his world, and he didn't blame her. In fact, he encouraged her and taught Kiwi about morality, which he knew he had lost, reflecting on his past.

Cain snapped his fingers, and two portals emerged to take the wolves home, and then he snapped again, combining them, to summon a dragon into existence.

In a blink, he was gone from North Reach, that jungle hellhole full of guns, awakened individuals, and hell. The air shifted, colder now, with the smell of cherry blossoms and city rain. He appeared in the backyard of their house, hidden by tall fences and magic wards Hana had set up. No one could see him flying his dragon in.

The house was simple, yet exquisite. It wasn't fancy like his fortress, yet it gave him the feeling of home. Wooden doors, a small garden with flowers, which Kiwi liked to grow and pick from. The lights were on inside, yellow. He could hear giggling, Kiwi's voice, high and happy. His heart softened a bit. No bad intentions here. Just family.

He knocked softly on the back door. Hana opened it right away, like she knew he was coming. She always did, some kind of wife intuition or her light powers sensing him.

She looked beautiful, blond hair tied back, eyes sharp but kind. She wore a simple dress, nothing fancy. "Cain," she said, voice soft but with that edge. "You look like hell."

He grinned, stepping inside. "Missed you too, babe."

Kiwi ran in from the living room, her little feet pattering on the floor. She had Hana's eyes and his blond hair, all messy from playing. "Daddy!" she yelled, jumping into his arms.

Cain caught her, lifting her high. All the anger from before melted away. "Hey, sunflower. What have you been up to?"

She giggled, hugging his neck. "Mommy and I made cookies! And I drew a picture of you fighting bad guys!"

He laughed, a real one, not the crazy kind from earlier. "Yeah? Show me."

They went to the kitchen table, where crayons and paper were scattered. Kiwi's drawing was cute, stick figure Cain, lightning hands, beating up blobs that were supposed to be monsters.

"That's me, alright," he said, ruffling her hair. "Strongest dad ever."

Hana watched from the doorway, arms crossed, but smiling a little. She knew he was here to escape his mess. "Dinner's almost ready," she said. "Play nice."

Cain spent the afternoon with Kiwi. They built a fort out of pillows in the living room, pretending it was a castle. He let her "defeat" him with a toy sword, falling over dramatically while she cheered.

"You're the bravest knight, Kiwi!" he said, tickling her sides until she squealed.

Hana brought in plates of rice, fish, and those cookies, burnt on one side but tasting like home. They ate together at the table, talking about silly stuff. Kiwi told stories about school, how she made a new friend who could juggle. Cain nodded, pretending he cared about all that kid drama, but really, he did. Moments like this made the blood on his hands feel a little less heavy.

As the sun went down, Kiwi started yawning. "Bedtime story?" she asked, eyes big.

Cain scooped her up. "You bet. What'll it be? Dragon or pirate?"

"Dragon!" she said, already half-asleep.

He carried her to her room, a pink space full of stuffed animals and glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. Hana followed, tucking her in. Cain sat on the edge of the bed, making up a story about a lightning dragon who protected a village from bad storms. Kiwi's eyes closed, and soon she was out cold, breathing softly and steadily.

Cain leaned down, kissing her forehead. His voice was soft and gentle like a breeze, saying, "Sweet dreams, kiddo."

Hana waited in the hallway, her hand on his arm. "She's out like a light. You always do that to her."

He shrugged, but his eyes softened. "She's the only good thing I've got going. Aside from you, of course."

She looked up at him, searching his face. Then she kissed him, slow at first, like testing the waters. But it built quickly, hungry. Cain's hands slid up her back, pulling at the zipper of her dress. It fell to the floor softly, leaving her bare, skin warm and smoother under his finger.

Hana tugged at his shirt, yanking it off roughly. "You're overdressed," she muttered against his lips, her breath hot. Cain kicked off his boots, pants following fast. They stumbled to the bed, naked now, skin on skin. He kissed her neck, down to her collarbone, tasting salt and her. She arched under him, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving little red marks.

"God, I missed this," he said, his mouth on her breast, teasing with teeth and tongue.

Hana gasped, her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. She was wet already, pressing against him, and when he slid a hand between her legs, she moaned low, hips clenching.

They rolled, her on top now, straddling him. Her hair fell like a curtain. Cain gripped her hips, thrusting up, the bed creaking under them. It was messy, sweaty, her breath coming in pants, his grunts mixing with hers.

He flipped her over like a pancake, the thought running through his head, as he felt hungrier, pinning her wrists, kissing her hard while he moved deeper, faster. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him on, until they both shattered, her cry muffled against his shoulder, his release hitting with precision.

They collapsed, tangled and spent, hearts pounding. Cain pulled her close, her head on his chest. No words for a bit, just breathing and cuddling. His aura shifted then, calm, warm, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

It spread out, washing over the house and beyond, into the night streets of Tokyo. Evil things in the shadows flinched, demons and bad vibes sinking away. Hana felt it, sighing contentedly.

"You're not so bad when you try," she whispered, tracing his chest.

Cain chuckled, kissing her hair. "Only for you." He said in bliss, as another three rounds were still left, each getting spicier than the previous.