Reborn With the Infinite Gods System

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Bonus Chapter 145: Caged within

The woman sat at the wooden dining table, her expression distant as she carefully placed food onto seven plates. The once vibrant house had grown quiet, each footstep echoing through the empty corridors like a reminder of the tension that lingered in the air. She worked silently, methodically, her hands moving with an eerie precision.

After finishing, she wiped her hands on her apron and called out, "Come eat, everyone."

The children emerged from their rooms, their movements sluggish and hesitant, as if something unseen weighed heavily on them. Their father came last, his figure looming large as he took his place at the head of the table, watching silently as his wife distributed the plates. They all began to eat in silence, the only sound in the room the clinking of utensils and the soft rustling of clothes.

Throughout the meal, the woman interacted with her children, her tone gentle but strained, as though she was forcing herself to maintain an air of normalcy. She played with their hair, asking about their day, her laughter too light, too rehearsed.

"Thank you, Mum," Loki said, his voice small but filled with a childlike innocence as he licked the last bit of food from his plate. His wide eyes gleamed with a fleeting happiness, his small form curling up in her embrace as she ruffled his hair.

"You're welcome, my brave boy," she whispered, her smile faltering for just a second.

One after the other, the remaining children came up to her, each murmuring their thanks, each receiving a soft pat on the head in return. But the joy was thin, like the warmth of the sun on a cold day—there, but barely felt. The air in the room had shifted subtly, growing heavier with each passing moment.

Once the meal was over, the children helped their mother clear the plates, their routine almost robotic, as if rehearsed over and over. They moved together, washed the dishes together, and finally, they left the kitchen, each child retreating to their own room.

"Kids, we're out of food," their mother said suddenly, her voice cutting through the air like a knife.

A silence fell over the house, thick and suffocating. The children froze in place, and for a moment, no one said a word. Then, without a sound, they returned to their rooms. No protest, no questioning—just a retreat into the dark, quiet corners of the house.

Loki clung to his older brother Thor as they lay in the small, cramped room they shared, the light outside fading into darkness. The shadows grew longer, the night colder, and Loki's small hands trembled as he pressed himself closer to Thor.

"Big bro," Loki whispered, his voice shaking. His face was pale, filled with fear, though he tried to mask it. "Do you think... it's going to happen again?"

Thor's heart clenched painfully. He wanted to protect his brother, wanted to shield him from the horrors that were bound to unfold. But deep down, Thor knew the truth. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile.

"Don't worry," Thor lied, his voice barely steady. "Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise."

Loki stared up at him with wide, trusting eyes. He believed him, or at least, he wanted to believe. Slowly, Loki's grip loosened, and he curled into his bed, exhaustion overtaking his small body. Thor watched him fall asleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest the only thing that calmed Thor's racing thoughts.

But Thor couldn't sleep. He knew what was coming. He had to be strong for tomorrow. He had to protect them.

***

The next morning came with the brutality Thor had feared. It came with blood.

Thor's scream ripped through the air as he clutched Loki tightly in his arms, his back pressed against the cold, hard ground. Pain seared through his body, blood oozing from the deep wound in his side. He gritted his teeth, enduring the agony, focusing only on keeping Loki safe.

His heart shattered as he saw Clyde—his brother—fall beside him, his head rolling away from his body, a clean, brutal slash having taken his life. Clyde's body twitched, convulsing in its final moments before going still, the life draining from his eyes.

"C-Clyde!" Thor screamed, his voice raw, filled with pain and disbelief. Tears blurred his vision as he stared at his brother's lifeless body, the horror of the scene sinking in with every passing second. "No! Clyde!"

A twisted voice echoed above him, cold and void of any remorse. "Finally, we have food to last us a while again."

Thor's eyes shot upward, locking onto the face of the person responsible. His mother stood above him, her eyes wild and deranged, her bloodstained hands still clutching the knife she had used to kill Clyde. The madness in her eyes was unmistakable—dark, manic, and utterly lost to reason.

"I wanted to be the one to do it this time," his father grumbled from behind her, his voice thick with anticipation. He too held a knife, his lips curled into a grotesque smile. "But we better start cooking."

Thor's mind fractured at the sight of them—his parents, once the people who had cared for him, now reduced to these monsters, reveling in the murder of their own child. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of his failure to protect his siblings.

His gaze darted to the corner, where his other two siblings huddled together, their faces pale with terror, especially his sister. Their wide eyes were filled with fear, silently begging him to save them.

'What kind of big brother can't protect his siblings?' Thor's thoughts raced, the guilt threatening to suffocate him. He wanted to die. He wanted to escape this nightmare. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not while his siblings still needed him.

He had to endure—for them.

Their family had once had so much—things other families might have envied. But money wasn't one of those things. With ten children, food never lasted long, no matter how much they scrimped and saved. When their mother announced they were out of food, it was always a death sentence for one of them.

The next day, the hunt would begin. Their parents would arm themselves with knives and hunt their own children, and when one was caught, they would be slaughtered and eaten. It was a gruesome ritual, one born of madness and desperation. Refusal to participate meant death, swift and brutal. Thor had watched it happen—his siblings being butchered one by one until only four remained.

And now, they were fewer still.

As the eldest, Thor felt the crushing weight of responsibility. He had tried—oh, how he had tried—to save them. He had found work, scraping together money, anything to pull them out of the abyss of poverty. It was around that time that he had awakened his ability, a powerful talent that should have changed everything. But the world was cruel, and power alone couldn't save them.

When he had offered his parents the money he'd earned, believing it would end their insanity, they had only laughed. Instead of taking the money, they had handed him a knife and told him to join the hunt. To become like them.

Thor's world had crumbled then. To know that his siblings had been slaughtered for nothing more than their parents' twisted pleasure—that no amount of money or power could change that—had broken him. He had refused, threatening to take his siblings and run far away, to escape this nightmare. But it had been too late.

The hunt had begun, and his parents had turned on them all. His sister was the first to die, her life snuffed out in an instant as she tried to flee. Thor had watched, helpless, as the light faded from her eyes.

He had tried to protect the others, but his parents were relentless. John had been next, his life hanging by a thread until Thor intervened, but the damage had been done. John died in Thor's arms, his final breaths filled with pain and fear.

Thor's rage had boiled over. In a desperate, last-ditch effort, he unleashed his power, attacking his parents with all his strength. But his attack had gone too far. The explosion had leveled the house, killing both his parents, and in the chaos, John had died as well. Only Loki had survived, but not without scars—both physical and emotional.

In the aftermath, Loki had turned on Thor, blaming him for everything. And Thor couldn't blame him. What kind of big brother was he, if he couldn't even protect his own family?

Now, Thor was left with nothing but guilt, shame, and the weight of his failure. Every month, he visited their graves, the memories of that terrible night playing on repeat in his mind.

He could never escape it.

*The reason why lightning shall always come with dark clouds... Every light must come with its own darkness.*

***Author's note***

Miss the first volume. This volume is growing to become a universe, less actions, more adventure, adult content, smut probably, love and conflict...