A pair of fluorescent green eyes scanned the area taking in every detail of the bloody mess standing in front of him. Section thirteen had been a secret for the past 30 years, until a certain somebody had noticed that something unusual was going on in the basement of the Asylum.

Of course, conservative members of the True Cross Order had not been pleased by the discovery, never mind that higher-ups were supporting Mephisto's plan, they could not accept the collaboration between a demon and the Church. The role of exorcists is to exorcise demons after all, not to make deals with them.

One couldn't trust demons, their words were flavoured in deceit and sweet lies, a soothing lullaby for the hearts of the weaker human beings.

On the other hand, could onetrust humans?Samael reflected as his boots met the floor at a slow pace, the rhythmic sound of his steps echoing through the tall walls. Had not humans betrayed him countless times already over the centuries?

Ungrateful creatures, that's what they were, he thought as he stepped on a corpse without caring of altering his path. Knowledge had been his gift to them, knowledge on how to fight his own kind. Yet, they still came to stab him in the back.

Not that he minded humans killing a few demons here and there to keep Assiah clean. Far from that, he had enjoyed watching the play unravel on the stage he had so meticulously taken care to set up. A balanced fight, to keep the equilibrium between worlds stable. He looked at the decomposing flesh of defeated demons who had been serving under his command to protect the secrets buried underground. They were already rotting and dark fumes could be seen evaporating in the air.

Could you really blame humans for not trusting him? His lips curled up in a devilish grin. He was the mastermind behind all plots after all, without the nuisance of his father and older brother, Assiah had become his amusement park where he had laid foundations for the perfect playground. Episodes like the one that had just happened were accidents to be expected while undertaking the grandiose task of manufacturing one's own domains.

He had modelled the shape of his world to his tastes and manipulated more than one mind into believing that all he had done was for the sake of humanity. However, he had not bothered to brainwash lower level exorcists like the ones who had just perished at his minions' hands.

Thus, they had come to face him head-on, without realising the consequences of their actions. When it came to fights, they were ready to make sacrifices in order to purge the world of evil. And, who would be left in charge of cleansing this world once all of them had been wiped out?

Short-sighted, that was another word for describing his attackers. With such short lives, though, one could understand why they failed to see the greater picture and charged in without thinking.

As he continued his stroll, he examined the pained looks on the faces of the dead exorcists. A crack appeared on his façade and his eyes flared up as old memories resurfaced. Many times he had been cursed and persecuted and his flesh still wore the marks of his sufferings.

Halting in his survey, he sat on a rock contemplating the spectacle before his eyes. Blood dripped from the walls forming countless thin red lines that converged into a pool on the uneven floor. He scratched his sensitive nose; the place stunk of rotten demons and corrupted souls. Nothing to improve his gloomy mood.

Even though it was to be expected, he was still annoyed at the thought that a bunch of humans had attempted at his life. As if they had any real reason to…Was he not doing all he could in order to preserve Assiah's structure and safeguard the humans' world? What if his methods were against their common morals? At the end of the day, it was them who had been crawling on the floor to ask for his help and had it not been for him, his brother would have already…

He snorted, interrupting his train of thoughts. Yes, he was truly annoyed, he did not enjoy having to put up with such petty games as the one those foolish humans had challenged him at. Even less, when they had no ground for their accusations.

The fact that now he had to defend himself for having killed his assaulters was even more ridiculous. As if being a demon did not entitle you to living and enjoying the same pleasures as humans did.

This whole mess had started when one of his men, a human working at the underground facilities, had gone out on a date with some recently transferred exorcist from Rome. She had tricked him into drinking without restraint and when he had been most vulnerable, she had extorted his secrets from him. Ghost legions of lower level Exorcists had showed up soon after that, infiltrating his ranks and ultimately unleashing an attack which had ended in a blood-bath. Samael himself had not even bothered to take part into the fight, a few of his familiars were enough to pest-control badly organised invasions like that.

With a click of his tongue, he snapped his fingers and both the floor and walls around him were once again immaculate, no sign of the fight that had just happened. If the Vatican wanted to question him over this, disruption of evidence would not help his position, still he could not stand the stench nor allow it to sink deep into the stoned walls. Just as the smell of blood disappeared from the room, another pungent scent reached his nose. If possible, it was even worse than the one he had just gotten rid of. Eyes reduced to two glowing slits, he got down from the rock he was using as a seat and marched towards the source of his unhappiness.

He did not have to walk far before his eyes caught sight of a thin human silhouette lying with their back against the wall. A puff of smoke rose from their open mouth, spread into the room and then crashed into the ceiling above dissolving into a myriad of invisible particles which caused the demon's nose to itch.

Samael approached the young exorcist with a grim look, his murderous intent steadily growing as he got closer, step after step. His black nailed fingers clenched into fists as his furious eyes watched the teen slowly, and defiantly, take in another deep smoky breath before releasing a perfect grey circle in the air. The Demon King was already pissed because of the intrusion and that simple act was pushing him over the edge, if he did not control his anger then…

Again, he clicked his tongue in annoyance, to make both his presence and his disapproval known to the boy.