I am Pax's father, Tameka's husband, the Prince of Cinder, mentor to the Shadow, and a Concerted Emperor of Iona Pax. While you've never thought of me as a monster, there was a time in my life when I'm certain I was one.

"That's not how the story starts, Superman."

Rayne, are you giggling at me?

When you nod, this four-year-old memory of you grins big enough to show a missing baby tooth while perched precariously on my knee.

Well, then it's only fair if I—Tickle attack!

"No! Hehehe stop!" You kick out with your tiny sneakers and try to wiggle away, but I earned every one of those high-pitched squeals.

I am safer inside this old Divine Booth than I am anywhere else in Iona Pax. Here, I can hide from those I love most. In this custom memory experience, I can talk to you and share the story of my Verse with you. I don't know where you are, Rayne, but I haven't forgotten my promise. I'll never stop looking for you.

But the others...

Now that they've met the monster in me, I fear their judgment. Their hurt, confused expressions. But most of all, I fear their doubt. How could they continue following someone like me when they can't even stand to look in my direction?

"Because you kept too much from them for too long."

Your mother had her hands full with you at this age. At twelve-years-old, the other figment of you borders the ages where blunt honesty comes less from innocence and more from a sudden awareness of the fables told by the adults around you. It's a hard place to dwell.

While I stare at you from across the coffee table in my study, you sit on the floor and write in your notebook, refusing to make eye contact.

It was never my plan to withhold information. The timing was never right. I wanted you to be there.

"We're always here, Superman." Your tiny hand reaches for my face, and I lean down into it, feeling at once whole and lost. "You don't have to look for us anymore."

The older you assures me without an upward glance, "It's okay to be afraid to let go. Hell, I think it makes you normal." This iteration of you is dressed with entirely too much defiance, all black and spiked. Long before the days when I taught you how to take care of yourself, you were already confident in your abilities and your words.

I'm not ready to hear them because both versions of you are correct.

I'm not telling it right.

With a ruffle of your little headband, I bounce my knee once, to your delight, before continuing properly.

Once upon a time, there was a handsome Prince who threw a glamorous party for his friends.

"You'd better have a good fucking reason for hijacking my union night, Traitor Prince."

Was that anyway to refer to an Emperor? Korac was naturally upset with my timing. I didn't blame him, but he usually held such high regard for decorum.

At least Sagan was taking my ill-timed announcement with grace. "If you're ready to tell, I'm ready to listen." She opened a conduit to the stronghold.

Tameka left my side to stand by it. "Who's coming with us?"

"Me!" Pax hopped out of his seat, remembering to bring his straw—It's his current favorite quirk. I adore it. He took up at his mother's side.

Kyle asked, "Will there be more food?"

I stepped into the conduit, turning back to say, "I organized it all. Rooms are arranged, too. I wanted everyone together when I told my Verse—"

"But why did you wait until my wedding night?!" Korac growled out while pinching the bridge of his nose. He really was a sight to see when flustered.

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This was so much payback for every smirk he'd given me when Tameka asked a question I wasn't ready to answer. For every snide comment referencing my less than pristine past. Yes. This was deliberate.

"I wish I'd been there to see it." Preteen you is experiencing a mean streak. Your wicked grin belies your pretense of being too cool and absorbed in your writing to listen.

Every time I see you, Rayne, I beam at you because you're so much like me.

We relocated the wedding party to my stronghold, where Tameka, Pax, and I lived under Aria and Torch's guardianship. The two Gargantuan Lyriks took up posts at the entrances to the room, prepared at all times to defend the Imperial family.

I ordered, "Progeny with me. Everyone else is welcome to join as they like. We'll be in my study."

I didn't wait to see if anyone followed. I climbed the synchronized steps up the ravine filled with mementos under glass, a museum of my life.

When I entered the hexagonal room lined with my journals and furnished with black couches, I saw you sitting there. Young and full of purpose, the figment of my memories asked me to deliver you into enemy territory and endanger your life for one sample of my brother's blood. It was the first time you said to me, "I love you, Superman—"

"It always smells of leather in here," Sagan remarked as she followed me inside. Her smile matched the place, warm and haunted.

Did Sagan know? Have you told her? About the day I tried to convince you to hide from it all in here, safe, and how you refused?

Tameka knew. She smoothed one warm hand up my shoulder and kissed my cheek. The soft smile on her beautiful lips spoke volumes of her empathy. I love her for it. She said, "Let's all get comfortable."

Andrew and Lucas filed in, stealing one plush loveseat to themselves. Korac sat in an armchair, and Sagan draped herself in his lap. It was fair given that I'd ruined their wedding night. Kyle and Silence followed, with her peering around the room until her gunmetal eyes located the small fireplace filled with Cascading Light. They remained standing. Tumu and Lamassau were the last to file in, occupying the big couch with the Gargantuan compressed to seven feet of his height. Outside, I could hear the others quietly talk amongst themselves.

Bones said, "I got a caramel cheesecake and one hundred credits that says Xelan's Verse will be the best of the three."

"I'll take that bet," Iuo answered.

Twenty-One raised him, "Two caramel cheesecakes that the original will reign supreme."

Lam hissed on the couch, and Tumu chuckled at him.

When Pehton said, "Three on Korac's," Korac beamed at her.

The General said, "Proceed."

Tameka nudged me.

I guess I'd avoided it enough. "Because I know Rayne and Iona Pax will eventually want to hear this, I'm recording the moment in a perfect hologram. This room and anyone in it will appear in my Verse to her. Come and go as you please. I only ask that you participate while in the room."

Outside, Miy muttered, "Participate?"

Someone shushed her.

Tameka hid a wince as she always did when I mentioned Rayne.

She and the others thought I was struggling to grieve you, unaware of all the ways you could return to us.

Korac glared at me with a raised brow. Interested and eager for me to proceed. As much as he abhorred the timing, my General was looking forward to this.

I lifted Tameka's hand and kissed it.

Abashed, Pax cried, "Dad!"

We all melted for a moment at him, hiding his reddened face, then I nodded at one wall of journals. "Tameka, reach for the first. Yes, the highest." I directed her as she followed my request by climbing the ladder and collecting the very first volume. "Read the first line for me."

Tameka smiled at the gathered people before opening it. Then she frowned and read, "Our father is not—cannot be—mine." She peered curiously at me.

I nodded, more solemn this time before saying, "As I was telling Sagan months ago when Korac's Verse first aired, these histories steal away whatever sense I've made of my life."

Kyle says, "I don't know. It sounds like you were making perfect sense before."

I held up a finger. "Ah. But there's the issue. I had no confirmation. I was raised under a man I was certain couldn't be my father, but with no evidence to support me or reason to dare doubt my mother. Nox's Verse rocked my foundation."

As I understand it now, it also rocked yours, Rayne.

"Hee." During the telling of my story, a strand of your hair escaped your headband. I tuck it back under for you, and your eyes sparkle with glee.

Back to the tale.

Tameka returned to my side while I stared at the black fire, saying, "Given how much was already explained in the other two Verses, I must deviate from how each of them began. We don't open with my conception. The Shadow and the rest of the empire already know that. Instead, I'll start with my earliest memory."