Chapter Text
Lady Shiva hadn’t been expecting twins, had never even wanted one child to begin with. They cried softly in their makeshift crib, utterly helpless and useless. The woman couldn’t say she understood why David Cain wanted them, or for now, one of them. They could not do anything, could not speak, why would— it didn’t matter. It especially didn’t matter to her.
The motel light flickered ominously above, bugs flying slowly in the sweltering heat.
She stared at them, running a hand over her blade and testing it’s sharpness by pricking her finger to bring blood. They were so little, tuffs of dark hair on their head and looking so similar, she was barely able to tell which one was the boy and which one was the girl. This was the result of her sister’s death?
A presence behind the motel door interrupted her thoughts, the knock that followed only reaffirming her instincts.
She opened the door, staring up into the face of David Cain. He was far taller then her, glaring down smirkingly at her, but she only blankly shifted her body to let him pass into the room.
He asked, “this is them.”
She didn’t deign him with a response, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her as one of the twins began to cry.
They were not hers. They did not matter. And she did not care for them.
Lady Shiva did not look back or even let herself doubt her decision as she left the old nondescript motel.
Inside the room, David Cain smiled sharply as he watched the twins as he waited for his transport to arrive. He had been mildly surprised, Shiva not having mentioned the fact that there were two of them, rather then the one child that he had been expecting.
But it was no matter.
This could work out for the better, with two working as a team, rather then one. Able to strengthen each other and cover the other’s weakness. And, if, by some reason, one of them was not turning out successfully, it was no loss to remove them entirely. Afterall, David had two chances this time.
Not that he needed chance or luck.
He stared down at the children, two empty slates to turn into vicious machines. They would be perfect, no need for language or an intellectual understanding beyond the fact that his, David Cain’s, word was law.
The boy slowly stopped crying, his sister still silent, both staring up at the monstrous man he would one day find out was his father.
The beginning of the end. The Ones who were All.