Blood of the Aswangs

Chapter 8: Over-Training and Bad Dads

"My mother was an honor student at Saint Diego University: The most prestigious school in the Philippines. My father was a lawyer at the Department of Justice. My aunt was a world-renowned scientist.
Me? I was a nobody..."

"Wow! Look at these garbage collectors in TV!" smiled Joseph, watching television and pawnstars. "Aren't these garbage collectors... wow! They are just so crazy, am I right? Man! Too bad they didn't make... The Choices. Right? Those good ol' The Choices that make you lawyers, doctors, teachers, and actual functional people in society. Instead these kids always wanted to be... I dunno... Youtubers! Rappers! Musicians! *COUGH!!!* Writers..."

A young Miguel... but not the Miguel we know... No... An alternate one... One with the same dead eyes of another character, just continuously types into his laptop with a dead look.

"Y'know, if you're going to keep writing, you should read some *COUGH!!!* law books! Y'know! Be a useful and functional member of society!" he smiled.

The boy ignored him, and kept typing.

"Son. I'm only home two days a month! You could at least spend some time reading these books!"

"Those books are for nerds..." Miguel coldly turned to his father with dead eyes. "Fanfiction's for Sigma Male Grindset babies like I am."

"I... I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue what that means. Son. What do you want to be in the future?"

"I want to rule over the Multiverse and show how fucking wrong you were about me."

"HA!!! You!? The Multiverse isn't even real! What could you do, anyway? YOU DON'T EVEN WANNA BE A LAWYER for fuck's sake! Be realistic! Please, son! Only 1% of Filipinos actually become successful writers! So! BE a President! BE a leader! BE a lawyer!!! I'm trying to save your future! Our family name! But more importantly, YOUR FUTURE!!! But also our family name! Please, son! You're going to be something great if you just..."

"Listen..."

Prometheus opens his eyes, still typing on his laptop many, many, many years later. He is chronicling the fauna and flora of Gerard's world. Right now, he is writing about a flower.

"Prometheus! Whatcha doin'?" asked Miguel, Prometheus' much younger alter.

"I'm busy. Buzz off, nerd..." said Prometheus.

"Whoa! Is that our Dad?" asked Miguel, pointing to a picture of him on Prometheus' phone.

"Yeah." Prometheus warps the phone away. "How the shit do you know my password?"

"Same password as mine!" smiled Miguel. "Whatcha doin', anyway?"

"Disappointing my father. Shouldn't you be on sleeping for training tomorrow?" asked Prometheus, annoyed.

"Well... I just think you're cool, and all! You being my legal guardian and all! So weird that I'm my own legal guardian! Is this what adults feel like!?" smiled Miguel.

"No. You're stupid and naive and you're slobbering over my Caeluma Ruptoris."

"Oh... Sorry!"

"Sleep, kid..." said Prometheus grabbing his head and pushing him into bed. "Besides... You have to be more powerful in preparation of the great evil. Now, move it."

"By the way... What IS the great evil?"

"No."

"Why!? Please tell me what I'm up against! It's kinda fucked up that you aren't telling me anything!"

"Because you're not ready. Your eyes will melt if I tell you."

"I'm 14. I'm not stupid."

"Well, clearly, you're very stupid."