Idris Point of View

Eight.

Eight...

Eight.

I had to repeat it mentally three more times, because my brain kept buffering like it had lost signal to reality.

Not three. Not four. Not even the original "possibly more."

Eight.

How did I manage to send so many inside?

Is it even possible for a woman to safely carry eight fetuses?

Dr. Rowan might as well have told us she discovered a micro-civilization thriving in Demon girl's womb and they've just elected their own mayor.

My jaw clenched. My grip on her hand had not relaxed since the words had left the doctor's mouth, but I could feel the warmth of her fingers against mine like it was the only anchor I had left in this rapidly imploding dimension.

Demon girl, on the other hand?

She blinked.

Then blinked again.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run a background check on the universe.

Instead, I turned slowly toward Dr. Rowan. "Are you sure?"

She gave me a stare so flat, so unforgiving, it could have ironed a silk shirt. "Mr. Valen. I do not tend to joke when it comes to prenatal diagnostics."

"Is it possible though? To carry eight babies in one womb at a same time." I asked with a bit of hurry in my tone.

Women go through hell for delivery just one baby at a time and now demon girl is carrying times eight at the same time.

Where is the space in her body to carry so many?

How can she even stack them up as the babies form fully?

Dr. Rowan, in all her professional chill, gave me a long, unsympathetic look—one I've only ever seen delivered by corporate auditors or disappointed judges.

She set the scanner aside with slow precision, then turned to face us fully. "It is... extremely rare. Risky, even under the most optimal of circumstances. Your wife is, as of now, carrying what is medically classified as a high-order multiple pregnancy. And no, it's not exactly... safe."

My heart took a nosedive into my stomach.

Demon girl shifted on the bed. Her hand instinctively went to her belly, protectively, like she could shield them all just with willpower. "What do you mean 'not safe'?" she asked, her voice calm but tight at the edges.

At that very moment, the door burst open.

"Eight?!" Mom's voice shrieked down the hall and echoed into the room like a royal decree laced with panic. She stormed in with a whirlwind of perfume, panic, and pure motherly authority. "Dr. Rowan, I demand clarity. Is it true? My daughter-in-law is carrying eight babies?"

I rubbed my forehead. Great. Now it's a family summit of fear.

Dr. Rowan didn't even flinch. "It's true. And before you all panic—more—I'll explain."

She pulled out a diagram from the side monitor. A set of floating icons lit up on the glass—eight tiny dots arranged in two neat clusters. "This," she said, "is your current situation. Eight fetuses. All with heartbeats. All developing at the expected rate. For now, everything is going well."

"For now?" I echoed, locking eyes with her. My voice was clipped, low. "What about the future?"

She didn't sugarcoat it. "Carrying eight babies puts enormous strain on the mother's organs—her heart, lungs, kidneys. Nutrient distribution becomes a challenge. There's high risk of preterm birth, potential loss of one or more fetuses, and maternal complications. Statistically speaking, the human uterus is not designed to accommodate eight fetuses past the second trimester without significant distress."

Mom clutched at her pearl necklace like it was a lifeline. "Then what do we do? Can't you... I don't know, reduce the number?"

"No," Dr. Rowan said sharply. "The pregnancy is already too advanced for any kind of selective reduction or intervention. The fetuses are past viability thresholds. Attempting to reduce now would risk them all—and your daughter-in-law."

My legs weakened. I leaned back against the exam room counter.

Demon girl spoke up softly. "But you said... for now, everything is fine?"

"Yes," Dr. Rowan nodded. "And that's not to be ignored. Despite the odds, her vitals are excellent. The babies are responsive. She's showing extraordinary resilience. But that could change fast, so from now on—no stress, no travel, no missed supplements. Weekly monitoring is non-negotiable."

I turned to Mom, who was now seated, pressing a cold water bottle to her forehead like a collapsing opera singer. "She'll move into the maternity wing," I said before she could protest. "We'll have a team on standby. Round-the-clock care."

Demon girl opened her mouth to argue, but I silenced her with a look.

"No arguments. You're my wife. And now, you're carrying my entire bloodline like it's a goddamn family reunion in there. If you sneeze wrong, I want a doctor present."

Dr. Rowan cleared her throat. "Actually, I second that suggestion."

Demon girl groaned and looked at both of us. "You do realize I'm not dying, right? I'm just extremely... populated."

Mom, who has been stunned and shocked to respond properly until now suddenly stood up like a lit rocket and ran to me with great force.

The next moment, I felt a hot slap on my face, then on my head and then all over my body and goddamn mom's slaps are still so painful.

"It's all because of you. Can't you be a little more careful? Look what have you done to the sweet little girl. Look what have you done. Is one or two not enough for you? Are you trying to harm her intentionally?" Mom spewed out all kinds of nonsense at me and beat me to pulp.

It's not like I did it intentionally!

"Mom, how can I do it deliberately? It's impossible to have the ability to select a few of my own sperms and send them to live and prosper together. Is it even possible?" I expressed my own grievances.

Even I'm stumped here, okay!

I'm feeling helpless and concerned too.

"Is it even possible?" I gasped, blocking another slap from Mom that nearly dislocated my shoulder. "I don't have microscopic sniper precision, okay? I didn't line up my sperm like a military unit and say 'March in squads of eight!'"

Mom ignored me completely and continued her emotional assault like she was auditioning for the role of Avenging Matriarch in a high-stakes soap opera.

"You reckless, careless, irresponsible—"

God save me!

"Mom, stop it. Mom." Demon girl interrupted my furious mom at right time and saved me from being hit by an ultrasound monitor which was in my mom's hands for obvious reason.

"Mom, I think the babies and I will be just fine. I have full confidence in myself, my babies and the ancestors of the clan. I am a protected person, mom. Don't worry." Listening to demon girl's confident words of pacification, mom calmed down a little and went on ask several questions to Dr. Rowan about how demon girl should be taken care of and if there is any special methods to do so.

I stood there, still slightly bruised—physically and emotionally—while watching two women who had somehow managed to become the gravitational centres of my entire universe.

I can understand mom but somehow, demon girl also slowly creeped into my heart and became a very important part of the organ inside my ribcage.

Huh... time...

Time changes everything and everyone.

Time changes...

"Dr. Rowan," Mom said, now seated next to Demon girl with a pen and notebook she'd conjured out of nowhere, "please tell me everything. How should she eat? What supplements? Can I cook for her? I make a mean lentil soup—low sodium, high iron. Do I need to feed her every three hours like a squirrel? Should I bathe her feet in Himalayan salt water? I need details."

Dr. Rowan blinked. "Mrs. Valen—"

" - while your enthusiasm is admirable, we have a full medical plan. She'll be under around-the-clock monitoring. Nutritionists and maternity nurses will manage her vitals. Stress levels. Movement limits. We'll do regular fetal echocardiograms to monitor heart function. And yes, food will be supervised too."

Mom paused, clearly wanting to protest—but then she exhaled, long and sharp. "Okay. I'll stay in the hospital wing. Just in case."

"You won't." I refuted mom immediately. "Because we are arranging everything in Valen mansion and all the nurses, nutritionists, everyone will be working there. Dr. Rowan, is that arrangement fine?"

"That's alright. It's actually better if Zephyra is surrounded by family and have constant company with her. It's better if she does what she likes to keep a healthy mind and heart. Obviously, in moderation but something to work on will help her greatly."

That's good.

That's a relief.

If she can spend her time in a relaxed manner, that is better, Hospital is not really suitable for her mentality anyways.

"Then, can I do what I like as long as I don't trouble myself?"

"Absolutely." The smile that creeped on demon girl's face after she heard the confirmation did not feel right.

What will she do without any trouble?

Everything she does is a trouble and synonyms of trouble only.

She can do something without creating chaos for herself? That's news to me.

"Great, then I can finally plan the inauguration of my super spiritual houses and open them for public."

Uh huh!

I suddenly feel like keeping her in hospital is far better.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello Sweeties,

Next chapter is here. Enjoy!

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Lady Prim