Brotherhood is sometimes a word that is callously thrown around sometimes among mortal civilizations.
Nevi'im do not treat that title so lightly.
The one thing that was of indescribable importance to Abaddon was the need to foster togetherness as a people not just within society, but within his family too.
It didn't mean that they all had to be carbon copies of one another. But did have to at least care about each other.
Hell, the colosseum here hadn't seen a death match in 7,000 years. The dragons had mostly evolved beyond jealousy and disdain for one another.
And none embodied this school of thought more than Abaddon's own children.
But for the boys, it all started with Apophis.
As a young child who had only older sisters and eleven mothers for a thousand years, he could not have been more elated by the birth of Belloc.
He took the moody death dragon everywhere, even if he didnt want to go. They played games, became immersed in the art of shit-talking, and were up late nights as drinking buddies.
They were each other's best men at their weddings. (Abaddon was slightly disappointed, as he was really hoping for that spot.)
When Straga eventually came along, the brother's had a new best friend. And their dynamic remained unchanged.
They wouldn't give one another a fry off their own plates, but they would gladly give the shirt off their backs if they needed it.
And now, Straga was trying to break down a barrier with his younger brother to build that same sort of familial relationship.
Abd Bashenga, for all of his knowledge and power, had no idea how to respond to his brother's unwillingness to hurt him back.
So now the two were simply standing in space; completely frozen.
"...Listen, I know you don't necessarily care all that much about our family, but we-"
"I never.."
Bashenga opened and closed his mouth as if the fleshy shell he had given himself was struggling to aptly convey his soul's sentiment.
"I... never said that I did not care for any of you." He finally stammered.
His words were so deadly quiet that if they were not truly in the infinite quiet of space, Straga might not have ever heard him.
"...Will you let me go?"
Bashenga released Straga after a moment's thought.
While massaging his own shoulder, Straga made direct eye contact with his brother who seemed to be trying his best to look away.
He placed his hand on his back and began to guide him in a certain direction.
"Where are we going..?" Bash asked halfheartedly.
"Somewhere we don't have to sit and stare at burning corpses."
-
Bashenga was halfway expecting his brother to take him to a bar of some sort so that they could drink and receive gross looks from it's patrons.
And to his credit, he was half right.
He found a beach on a parallel version of Earth and the two of them walked along the sands while Straga enjoyed a beer.
"...Hilarious." Bashenga walked around his brother.
Straga commanded the couch to float and it followed behind his brother like a ghost from the past.
"Do you hate yourself, brother?"
Straga's inquiry sparked a bit of irritation from his younger sibling.
Bashenga tossed a fireball made from black flame over his head. The entire sofa went up in ash within a second.
"...I'm going to write that down as a yes." Straga started to scribble on his clipboard.
"What!? No! Erase that right now!" Bashenga whirled around.
"Can't do that, buddy. I have to take every note possible of what is said in our sessions."
"This is NOT a therapy session!"
"How long have you felt this way about yourself?"
Bash ground his teeth together until he inadvertently cracked a few.
"...It matters not."
"Of course it does. We have to be able to isolate the beginning of the incident if we want to make any actual progress."
Bashenga was no longer sure if his brother was actually spouting nonsense or not. But he didn't like the way that all this head doctor nonsense was making him feel.
Straga could feel that he was just on the edge of a breakthrough and decided to push just a little bit further.
"... Can I tell you what I think then?"
"I wish that you would not, but I have a feeling that you will do so anyway."
Straga started scribbling on his clipboard.
"What in Oblivion's name are you writing now!?"
"Oh, I just wrote 'observant' that time."
"Ugh.."
The god of monsters floated above his brother's head while acting as if he were reading from a dissertation.
"You know what I think? That you do hate yourself. But more than that- I think that it goes into everything that you say, do, and even the room you choose to live in.
You stay in that endless emptiness all day long because you're subconsciously afraid that since you are supposed to be the death of all things, you will destroy everything you touch."
Bash's brow furrowed.
"And you know what else? I would bet my balls that you actually do like it when our family tries to show you affection. You just can't accept it because you feel like there's something wrong with you- so by extension, if we show you that we love you, then there has to be something wrong with us as well. And you don't want to think anything could be wrong with the people you love."
Bashenga stopped walking.
"Furthermore, I believe that is the reason why you say you don't like children. Because they are creation's only innocent beings and they look at you without making any assumptions about what you are. You think they are stupid."
Straga put down his clipboard with a satisfied expression on his face.
"So tell me, how did I d-"
Straga's words were cut off when he saw his brother's foot flying towards his face.