The city of Aslilia, a tiered amphitheater of hive-like dwellings, spiraled down towards bustling markets and ornate temples. High above, on the highest tier, loomed the imposing royal palace.

In one of the modest homes, armored guards with spears stood beside a woman veiled in white. One of the Close Sisters, tasked with attending to the King, rapped gently on the rounded door.

It opened to reveal a handsome young man. Surprise widened his eyes. "Close Sister?" he stammered, bowing his head.

"Blessings upon you, brother," she said, smiling. "You are summoned to our Father's palace. Come."

"As you command," he replied, "but permit me to change."

She took his hand. "There's no need. We will prepare you. Come." With a gentle tug, she led him out, followed by the guards. The door closed behind them, the sounds of the marketplace fading as they began their solemn procession.

As they moved through the crowded market, the young man's discomfort grew. The marketplace activity seemed to freeze, all eyes on them, whispers rippling outwards. He lowered his gaze, cheeks flushing. The Close Sister, unfazed, walked with brisk purpose.

Beyond the city, the towering palace walls came into view, guarded by sentries. Access was strictly controlled. The young men, gathered from their homes, gazed at the structure with a mix of awe and fear.

Entering the palace grounds, they ascended the grand staircase. At the top, a line of Close Sisters waited, their expressions impassive.

"Sisters," the lead Close Sister announced, "escort these young men and prepare them for an audience with our Father." The Sisters bowed, each taking charge of a young man and leading him towards the royal baths.

Inside, the Close Sisters began undressing the young men. One young man resisted, swatting hands away. "Keep your hands off me!" he hissed. "I won't do this!"

A guard strode forward, striking the young man’s side with his spear butt. He gasped, collapsing in pain. "The next blow will be to your face," the guard warned coldly. "A marred face will mean your expulsion, and then you'll learn your fate. Understand?"

"Yes," the young man whimpered.

"Louder!" the guard barked.

Tears stinging his eyes, he choked out, "Yes, I understand!"

The undressing continued. Stripped bare, the young men stood vulnerable. As a Close Sister scrubbed his thighs with a charcoal stone, one young man spoke hesitantly. "Sister, what is happening?" She worked in silence. He sighed. "I suppose not."

The Sisters proceeded with their preparations: shaving, trimming hair and nails, cleansing teeth, ears, and noses. Finally, they anointed the young men with fragrant oils, applied kohl, and dressed them in white robes.

Lined up again, the young men awaited inspection. Aylauna, the lead Close Sister, scrutinized each one. A Sister followed, bearing a pitcher and cup. Each young man was given a drink and made to swallow it under watchful eyes. One attempted to hold the liquid in his mouth, but Aylauna noticed. "Swallow," she commanded, gripping his cheeks. He obeyed, fear evident. "Open your mouth. Tongue," she ordered. He complied, tongue trembling. Satisfied, Aylauna moved on. "Follow me."

Outside the King's chamber, they waited. Aylauna pulled each young man aside. "Do not approach our Father unless commanded," she whispered. "Understand?" Each nodded nervously.

The first young man's turn came. Aylauna opened the door, and he stepped inside. Horror widened his eyes. On a massive bed lay the four-meter-long King, a monstrous figure with clawed hands and a mane of black hair and beard. Naked young men surrounded him, kissing and licking his body. Three were engaged in sexual acts with him for procreative purposes. Close Sisters stood in the corners, some watching, while another played a haunting melody. The King extended a clawed hand. "Come closer, my son," he rumbled. "Don't be shy." The young man, paralyzed with fear, slowly approached.

Outside, Advisor Vya called to Aylauna. "Sister Aylauna."

Aylauna turned, composing her features. "Yes, Advisor Vya?"

"Walk with me." Vya led her away from the door. Once out of earshot, she spoke bluntly. "Recruit more Close Sisters. Our Father intends to double the production rate."

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"Double?" Aylauna whispered, aghast.

"Do you question our Father's wisdom?" Vya snapped.

"No, of course not," Aylauna backtracked quickly. "But his body may not withstand it."

"That is not your concern," Vya dismissed her. "The detached wombs will facilitate the increase. Obey your orders."

Aylauna hesitated. "Advisor Vya, there's a growing problem with the young men’s resistance. I fear something… untoward… may occur."

"Irrelevant," Vya declared. "Increase the pressure. Ensure they don't disturb our Father's… activities. I'll have Sister Hiran increase temple services and indoctrination. Obedience is absolute."

"Thank you, Advisor Vya," Aylauna murmured, her eyes downcast. As Vya departed, resentment flickered in Aylauna's eyes.

Five soldiers, returning from months patrolling the kingdom's borders, rode towards Aslilia.

"Civilization at last," one sighed.

"Tonight, we drink and celebrate!" another exclaimed.

"And find some Sisters," a third added, drawing laughter from the others.

"What about you, Commander?"

The Commander, riding at the front, smiled wearily. "Sleep. Days of it. In my own bed."

"Couldn't agree more, Commander. No sleep like home," another soldier agreed.

Reaching the city gates, they were met by a rush of children with outstretched hands. "Give us something, brother!" they chanted. "Thanks be to the Gods for your return!"

"Why should I?" one soldier teased. "I'll thank the Gods myself."

"Aren't children the Gods' own?" a child retorted.

The Commander chuckled, dismounted, and distributed coins. Catching one child trying for a second coin, he grinned. "I saw that! Now off with you, before the market closes." He waved them away, then bid his squad farewell. "Later, brothers." They dispersed into the city.

Aelius, the Commander, reached his home and opened the door. "Kaya, I'm home!" Only silence answered. Dust lay thick on the furniture. A bowl of food on the table was covered in mold. He searched the rooms. Empty. But Kaya's clothes remained. Unease coiled in his gut.

He went outside and knocked on his neighbor’s door. "Sister! Sister!"

A woman cautiously cracked open the door. "Do you know where Kaya is?" Aelius asked. She remained silent, eyes wide, then quickly shut the door.

Turning, Aelius saw another neighbor passing by. "Brother! Do you know where Kaya is?" The man averted his gaze and continued walking. Confusion gnawed at him.

He descended the steps towards the market. A hushed voice called his name. "Aelius! Aelius!"

He turned and saw Zao, a travelling merchant. "Zao! Welcome back. Do you know what happened to Kaya?"

Zao's voice was low. "Not here. Follow me."

Later, in a secluded alley, Zao spoke. "Aelius, I'm not your brother. I don't belong here. Speaking to you is dangerous."

"Where is Kaya, Zao? By the heavens, tell me!"

"I don't know precisely," Zao admitted, "but she's been missing for nights. Whispers in the market say she angered your Father, the King, or perhaps one of your brothers at court. Be careful, Aelius. Don't ask too many questions. Act normal. Seek information from those you trust."

"Thank you, Zao. You, a stranger, have helped me more than my kin."

"She was kind to me," Zao said. "I hope she's safe."

Aelius pressed coins into Zao's hand.

"I don't want your money," Zao protested.

"Use it to gather information," Aelius replied.

"Good luck, Aelius. Be careful."

"I will."

A cloaked figure moved stealthily through the dark alleys. Reaching a house, they placed a rolled parchment in a clay pot by the door, knocked twice, and vanished.

Inside, Brother Ricardi, a Temple Elder, retrieved the message. Other Elders were gathered.

"What's the word, Brother Ricardi?" one asked.

Ricardi unfurled the scroll. "Hiran calls for a unified sermon on the third day, in every temple. The subject: procreation for God and kingdom."

"That old crone!" an Elder spat. "How dare she control our sermons?"

"How dare the King, our so-called Father, defy the sacred texts and put a woman in charge of our temples!" another raged.

Ricardi's face hardened. He burned the scroll. "And there's more. He wants to increase the birth rate. Do you know what that means?" A heavy silence fell.

"He defies the Gods!" Ricardi's voice rose. "He uses demon wombs because he can't produce enough children himself! He, who carries the Sacred Womb, defiles it!"

One Elder, his voice hushed with horror, stammered, “But how… how do they connect these… demonic wombs… to the Sacred Womb? How do they produce… brothers like us?”

Another Elder, his face pale, offered a hesitant explanation. “They speak of… science. Of a… procedure.”

Ricardi’s eyes flashed with fury. “Science? Blasphemy! It is sorcery, dark magic! A perversion of the natural order!” He slammed a fist on the table. “And mark my words, brothers, they’ll soon demand more Close Sisters. We must ensure that our loyal Sisters are among those sent. We will be the eyes and ears within the palace walls.”

"But what of the children born of this… abomination?" another Elder asked, his voice laced with disgust. "The King's offspring, born of the Sacred Womb, are claimed by the brotherhood, raised as our own. What will become of these… demon children?"

Ricardi's lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. "They will be marked. Subtly. But marked nonetheless. We will spread the word, whisper the truth among the families. Let them know these children are tainted, touched by the Devil. Who among our brothers would then dare to take them into their homes?"