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Chapter Text

     "Are you comfortable, mom?" Lora asked, hovering at Edith's side like a hen to its chick. The older woman smiled as best she could, lifting a shaking hand to touch her daughter's wrist.

     "I'm fine, Lora," Edith reassured her, and she was indeed doing fine. Her children had spared no expense redoing her bedroom, and she lay in a bed of silk and warmth. Joseph, her oldest, took her other hand, careful to keep his grip gentle. Thomas, her next, and Elizabeth, her youngest, sat close to her left. It warmed Edith's heart, that they were all there. Her children had dropped everything at the news of her quickly ailing health, had flown out to the old farm for their last goodbyes. Huh, she thought, looking between her grown children. Their last goodbyes. It'd been bound to come, her death, and she found that she regretted nothing. Her Tom, her children, they'd been the joys of her life. Now, though, now she would die in peace. Edith gave her daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze, getting a soft answering squeeze in return. Yes, she thought, her children were with her. Tom had passed years ago, a wound she would carry till the moment she died, but her sons and daughters had filled her life with joy. They were more than enou- Light flared suddenly before her eyes, a blinding flash that made her blink. Edith looked to the ceiling fan, frowning at it. Joseph had installed the thing years ago, had made certain that all of its parts worked well. Was it finally dying? Like her, Edith thought with a small flash of amusement, looking toward Joseph to tell him her joke. They were trying to keep smiles on their faces for her, she could tell, but she'd heard Thomas crying the other day, had heard the way Lora's voice went shaky as she'd spoken on the phone to her children. Yes, Edith thought, she would tell them her fine joke. Better to leave them with true smiles on their faces, than the crumbling facades of happiness they wore now.

     "Jospeh," she said, looking to her eldest. "Joseph." Her son continued to gaze down at her, wordless and oddly still. "Joseph?" Taken aback by his strange behavior, Edith looked to her other children, at Elizabeth's frozen smile and Thomas's motionless frame, Lora's face a mask of dawning concern and agony. What... What was happening? "Thomas," Edith questioned, "Lora? Elizabeth?" Still they did not answer her, and she felt a chill take root as she looked between her motionless children. What was happening? Why were her children-

     "I'm getting tired of this," Elizabeth spoke, her voice near flat and monotone.

Chapter Text

     Edith looked to her daughter, confused by her tone.

     "Elizabe-" She started, only for Joseph to cut her off.

     "Humans these days have no sense of right or wrong," he said, in the same near monotone voice as his sister. Humans, Edith thought, looking closer at her son, why would he-

     "They've strayed too far from the laws of the universe," Lora chimed in.

     "They have no ability to empathize with others," Thomas added, their gazes fixed upon her.

     "And not a trace of faith in their Creator," Elizabeth finished, staring blankly down at her mother.

     "Creator?" Edith questioned, and she moved to sit u- She... she couldn't move. The woman looked down at her body in horror, then back up at her strangely calm children. Why were they saying such things? Why weren't they moving?

     "Indeed," Elizabeth responded, keeping as still as ever.

     "Elizabeth," the older woman said, "why are you-" And realization set in, like a hard slap to the face. Edith had never fancied religion, though Tom had always been a devout Christian, and Elizabeth had taken keenly after her father in that regard. Tom had had the good sense to give up years ago, to let her live her life in peace, but Elizabeth had never seen reason, had always tried to push her towards faith. Edith knew her daughter had only the bests of intentions, but as her own health had declined, her daughter had ramped up her attempts. That she would try again now in such a manner, and convince her brothers and sister to play along... "Elizabeth Moore," Edith started, her voice shaking, "how dare you-" Her children paused, their collective gazes flickering briefly to the right. Edith followed their gazes, baffled as she spotted only paintings that had hung there for years. Why had they looked that way?

     "I am not Elizabeth Moore," her daughter said, bating not a single eye at her mother's rage.

     "I am that which returns people to the wheel of reincarnation, initiating rebirth," Joseph spoke once more, his face just as passive as his sister's at her anger. Wheel of reincarnation? Initiating rebirth? What the hell were her children talking about!?

     "Administering seven billion people is already beyond my capacity," Lora muttered.

     "Reincarnating people without faith is a waste of my time," Thomas said, and his unnaturally cold gaze made something in Edith curl up and whimper in fear. "But... you are not the most offensive of transgressors."

     "Your resentence of me is from confusion, not ill mannered arrogance," Joseph noted, his voice going angrily sour at the word. Once more, their eyes flickered to the right, and a moment of silence passed before their gazes turned to her again. "I am not utterly without mercy."

     "Rejoice," Elizabeth spoke once more, raising a slender hand to press it gently against her own chest, "this one has constantly prayed for you, begged that you be allowed to 'see the light of God' so that you might achieve salvation. Her unwavering faith will be rewarded, her obedience has spared you." Spared her? What the hell did that-

     "Live once more, Edith Moore," her children spoke in unison, their gazes fixed upon her. "Awaken your faith, that you may spread the Holy Word of God." What was-

     She fell, landing hard on the wooden floor beneath her. Tears of pain filled her eyes, and she let loose a wail that hurt even her own ears. Try as she might, Edith couldn't turn, couldn't get up to ease the pain of... of... She focused in on her arm, wiggling the abnormally tiny fingers she saw. What the hell was this?

     "Helen!" A man's voice cried out in concern, and Edith flailed as her world was yanked upwards, a large hand pressing her against an even larger chest. "Oh, it'll be ok, Helen," the man tried to reassure her, cradling Edith close. She beat her tiny fists against his chest, her irrational wails rising in pitch as panic took over. Who the hell was this, the woman thought, why the hell was he so big? Where was she!? The man's large hand patted her back, pressing her against the corner of his chest while he cupped the back of her head. "Hey, hey, it's ok, Helen. You just took a little tumble, that's all!" Edith fisted his sleeve, trying desperately to look over the man's shoulder, to try to find anything she could familiarize herself with- And froze, staring at the tiny mirror affixed to the wall before her. A tiny face stared back, made red from crying and covered in tears and snot. She was.. she was... Edith took the only reasonable course of action she could in that moment.

She fainted.