"Alright, now, when one considers that the soul is consistently evolving and being placed through rigorous 'training' throughout life, it is reasonable to conclude that older souls are of a higher value to kishin eggs. After all, the implication becomes that their souls have been distilled to prime capacity, much like a fine wine aged to perfection by the trials of life. Wouldn't one then suppose that the eldest of any given population could be observed to fall victim to more murders and disappearances? Fascinatingly, this is not always the case." A pale finger tapped the air, opening one of many charts that had been created for this presentation.

Although the seminar was announced to the students as voluntary -with the supposition that the less scholarly would choose to skip it in favor of what could be considered a "free" afternoon before the start of the weekend- the auditorium was nearly packed to capacity, a solemn attentiveness to the crowd. The speaker was tall and dressed in a pinstriped navy pants-suit that accentuated their height and pulled attention to their intense crimson eyes. Their shockingly pink hair was slicked back from their face, a face that was androgynous and haunting in its beauty. Their voice was lilting with a braiding of depth and softness that commanded attention, a small smile twitching at the edges of their lips as the graphics in the chart made a few audience members lean forward in their chairs. Pride swelled in Sigh's chest as she watched them, giving a light tap to her jaw when they made eye contact.

Chin up. Don't let them see that you're nervous.

The smile that flickered over Rene's face was shy and grateful as they adjusted their stance. They had chosen to express masculinity for the presentation, but their movements proposed a feminine grace that belied habitual modesty. Perhaps it would be Renee meeting her parents for dinner later.

The thought gave Sigh pause.

They had returned to Death City quietly. Sigh knew when their presentation was and could assume when they would arrive based on that date; and they had allowed her this assumption, making no attempt to correct her prods at what activities befell the weekend and what the family could get up to, together.

Rene instead arrived in Death City a full week before Sigh had predicted, their presence guarded by soul protect until they arrived at the family home with a quiet knock. It was completely unnecessary; despite the fact that they had been abroad for nearly five years this was their home, damn it, and they had every right to throw open the door and toss themselves onto the couch.

Not that that was in Rene's tame nature.

Even though they still had that heavy bronze key in their pocket.

The knock had startled Sigh and risen Tar from his place on the carpet. Sigh had just gotten home, herself, and having a visitor this late in the day was rare. Those of her students who needed outside help would stop her before she left campus, and her fellow teachers should be returning to their own homes to prepare for the next day. Even if that were not the case, it was broadly understood that this was the home of Lord Death, and no one would think to look for her here. Unless…she had been followed? Huh. They would have to be very gifted in espionage to have pulled that off, to have snuck past the unseen detector wards that began a mile out from the estate, growing in intensity and number as one neared the property. They would do no harm to the curious shadow, but they would silently alert Sigh to the wandering eyes on her back. Anyone that could find them without setting them off or calling her attention…she briefly wondered if it could be one of her witches, but they had a "special way" of garnering her attention that didn't include something as base as the thudding of knuckles or following her home.

Sigh rolled her neck as she opened the door.

Renee had jumped as the door was snatched open and she was struck in the face with her mother's intimidating spiritual pressure. She looked down at the powerful little woman and felt a blush the color of her dress growing as she realized what elder had expected. Renee had indeed known of her mother's wards and avoided them…not for any ominous reason. She had thought to surprise her. Oh, dear. Was Mama mad? Renee hadn't thought this through properly. She was going to be punished, wasn't she? Oh, dear, oh no, oh dear…

No…the animosity in Sigh's swirling silver eyes melted as she looked at Renee, and Renee felt her sprinting heart swell in her chest until it pressed against her ribs. She toyed with her fingers, averting her big, flame-flowered gaze in embarrassment. "Hi, Mam-" the wind was knocked from her body as she was tackled, Sigh knocking her child backwards and pulling them down into a suffocating embrace.

"RENEE! Oh, Honey, you're early!" Sigh pressed a warm kiss to her child's cheek. Taking a hint from the occasion, Tar danced around the embracing women, yipping excitedly. "Why didn't you call?" Sigh pulled away slightly, brushing at the stubborn cowlick that Rene would have remembered to slick out of his face. "I wasn't expecting you for another few days! I would've made you pasta! I guess I can still whip something up…or we could get your father to make something you know he's better at Italian dishes then me and…YOUR ROOM! Ah, I cleaned it last week, but it needs another dusting. It's just how you left it, you know, although I thought about turning it into a game room because you're so funny when you're confused. Ah, well. COME IN, COME ON I'll get your bags…" it was then that Sigh realized that although Renee had a little black purse on her shoulder, there was no other baggage to claim. Sigh looked at her daughter questioningly. Renee chewed a painted lip.

"Sungura," Sigh said the pet-name sternly "did you get robbed again?" The guilt on Renee's face sharpened to a point. "No, Mama." Sigh stood back, her hands on her hips. "No?"

"No."

"You can tell me. I won't hex the thieves so bad this time. Just a little hex. They won't even notice the warts…might notice the rats, though."

"I didn't get robbed! Really!" Renee failed to keep the whine from her voice, the result of a spoiled childhood. Sigh cocked her head to the side, arms crossing. Renee's gaze darkened a bit at the gesture, but her brief change in demeanor went unnoticed. "Alright…come inside."

"Mama, wait-"

"Come in, I said! You can tell me why you're so sparsely prepared for a stay."

Renee took a seat at the island in the kitchen, watching her mother flit about as she made tea. It was almost laughable how much tea the older woman drank. Tea in the morning, tea in the noon, tea in the middle of the night. Renee's entire childhood seemed to be moments of tea sprinkled through moments of no tea. That was very probably her first liquid outside of milk and water as a babe. Even the milk probably had tea in it back then. And still, somehow, it had taken Renee years to master tea. She hadn't thought it to be that difficult until she was finally the age wherein her parents were comfortable letting her operate the stove; and she tried to make her first pot.

To her credit, Sigh drank all of it, only a twitch beneath her left eye telling Renee that something was amiss. Again and again the child offered, and again and again Sigh accepted. All flavors, all practices, all disastrous attempts; Renee wanted Sigh to drink her tea with that same melancholy beauty she had in moments of meditation, a far-off gaze suggesting her thoughts were on a woman Renee worshiped as a demon-killing heroine.

Renee used to love stories of the fabled Anaise Éclair. Every incarnation of death that had darkened her doorway had been met with bravery and resistance, the woman from whom the former witch queen would bum cigarettes. Renee vaguely remembered Grandma, in the earliest parts of her mind (cool, wrinkled hands and the smell of expensive perfume and tobacco. A rough, authoritative voice scolding Papa for not giving Rene everything they wanted, whenever they wanted it. Sigh often dejectedly claimed grand-motherhood changed Madame, softened her and made her prone to pampering her only grandchild) and could sometimes give life to the stories her mother told. Anaise had died long ago, but Renee was certain she would never tire of the stories.

Sigh placed a bowl of green chips before her daughter while they waited for tea, snapping the latter from her reverie. The chips were thinner than potato chips and smelt of olives. Apparently, Lord Death had expanded his culinary skills to include snacks. It was relatively easy, as all it took was a deep fryer and some imagination. And some part of Death obviously thought to RUIN SIGH'S LOVE OF FOOD ENTIRELY by now removing neon junk from the house. She was very upset. So, she gave the healthy snacks, that Lord Death himself loved deeply, to their older child.

Renee licked one cautiously before shoving a handful in her mouth. She liked them quite a bit. Salty in a good way and crispy and soft in all the right places. A handful vanished into her purse for later as her attention flickered to see if her Mama had noticed. Sigh had tucked a kitchen towel into the waist of her pants, linen pinned to her body by her growing girth.

"So…baby?" Sigh raised an eyebrow at the question as she pulled an air-popper from the cupboard. Popcorn and tea were fine and fast; something to tide them over before Death could get home and spoil his family. Right?...Yes, according to the calendar, he should be home later that evening. "You're…I'm going to be an older sibling…?" Sigh's look of confusion shifted into a gentle smile. "I told you months ago. Silly Girl." Came the gentle tease. Renee shook her head, soft blushed curls bouncing at her chin. "It's not that. It's…" her eyes narrowed in focus, red lips pursed. "They're gonna be a reaper, right?" Sigh tsked dismissively. "As your father insists. But, honestly, I don't care in either case. Boy, girl, both. Reaper or witch. As long as they're healthy I'm happy." A hand grazed her stomach contently. Renee felt her heart breaking.

"But, Mama, reapers…I mean, when they're born…their non-reaper mothers…" Sigh hummed through her nose. The tea kettle clicked as the heat began to set in. Sigh tossed in a bit of dried kava and licorice. "I know. But I'm not like them, am I?" Renee nibbled her lip. "How can you know?"

"I don't think the average woman can lift a semi."

"No, I mean, how do you know that you're that different? This is the first child you've had."

"I have you."

"You know what I mean." Mama could be so annoying to confront. She teased too much; sometimes Renee felt like the older woman still didn't see her as an adult.

"I know I'll be fine."

"Why? How? How can you know? What do you know?" Sigh gave Renee her full attention, watching her aura curl in on itself. Renee's hands were starting to shake.

"Renee, Honey-"

"What if you're wrong?"

"Take a breath-"

"How can you gamble like this? Why are you doing this? Why would you do this to us? Why do you need another person to love you? Don't we love you enough? You don't love us you don't love yourself what if-"

"Renee, it's okay, you're okay-"

"I'm not until I know you're okay what if you're NOT OKAY how do we know what do you know I don't know how to deal-" the anxiety attack overtook Renee so fast she hadn't known that she was sliding until it was upon her. Distantly, she felt her mother's hand brush the back of her neck as she was reeled into a warm embrace. Gentle, and scented of lavender and mint and meadows at night. She fought to loosen her shoulders, even as her mother's swollen stomach pressed into her ribs. "Mama," she croaked. "You can't die, okay? You can't…I can't…I don't know how to handle being without you. I don't know how to handle you dying…" Maybe she was still a child. Helpless and lost. She wondered if everyone felt this way when they looked at their mother.

They -Rene- couldn't remember the time before, not in a solid memory. There were hints of loneliness and terror, breaths of darkness and pain that couldn't have stemmed from a childhood with Death the Kid and Psyche Eclair. The word "mother" sometimes called forth a flash of yellow and black and pain before it was superimposed by lilacs and smooth mocha cream. Red, layers and layers and layers of shredded white, empty eyes and wild laughter. It was like having monsters in their closet and under their bed and in their head all at once. They hadn't cried much as a child in their waking hours, but it wasn't uncommon for them to sob themselves awake and wander into their parent's bedroom.

The memories became less frequent as Rene grew older, and they allowed themselves to replace those (not-memories-nightmares) with a past of warm nights laden with their mother's humming and the smell of their father's cologne. Rene, crushed between their parents as the three embraced, squishing away all the bad thoughts with their father's half-hearted rejection of the public display and their mother's throaty chuckles. Rene liked how their father had meticulously nicked their height into the doorframe of their childhood bedroom, his insistence on using a measure tape to make the lines as straight as possible. His big, cold hands mussing their hair fondly, sometimes catching them off guard with his gentle smile and rumbling laugher that would flash into a facetious fit when he accidentally knocked their pigtails off kilter. He would often cave to the demands of his wife, allowing Rene any clothes and toys and books they wanted. Even after Grandma died, Mama seemed to support the cause of "Spoil Rene So Rotten No One Could Stand Them". And she would have gotten away with it, too, if not for Papa and his dreaded time-outs.

The grumbling of the tea kettle grew angrier, but Sigh remained seated on the island, her arms wrapped around her daughter. "It's alright," she cooed. "You're okay." Renee didn't know that there were tears on her face until Sigh began to wipe at them. Renee tried to smile at the gesture, batting at her mother half-heartedly. "…I'm too old for that."

"Never," Sigh scolded gently. "You'll always be my little Sungura." Renee couldn't help but lean close once more, eventually returning the embrace with thin arms and a hesitance that confessed her remaining uncertainties.

"Renee?" Lord Death tapped into the kitchen and pulled down his hood. The glimmering eyes behind his mask betrayed his charmed surprise. "You're early."

"That's what I said," Sigh clucked. She pulled back from Renee a bit but kept her hand on the side of the young woman's neck. "Or…something similar. And Renee's been robbed!"

"Again?"

"Mama! I told you I wasn't robbed!"

"Then where are your bags?" Renee froze before completely disengaging from her mother's embrace and standing. Sigh's eyes widened slightly at the loss of warmth, her fingers curling about air like they were confused at the empty space. Renee's eyes darted away from her, acid surging in her gut before it was suppressed by a heat she had no hope of predicting.

She didn't know how to deal with disappointed parents.

Renee dipped her head in a shallow bow, startling her family with the formality. "Mama. Papa. I thought to…I mean…you know I'm…I booked a hotel room. And it's where I've been…for a few days…few days now." Silence. Lord Death moved to take the screaming kettle from the heat. Sigh took a breath. "Oh…oh. So…"

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry. I…" Renee chewed her lip, unsure how to end the sentence without exacerbating the startled hurt blossoming on her mother's face.

"It's fine," Lord Death clucked and waved his hand dismissively. "You're an adult. I suppose it was unfair of us to assume you'd want to spend all of your time at home. You should be living your life." His tone was disappointed. Renee somehow managed to feel even worse.

"N-no! P-papa, I-I just…" Renee's eyes bounced from her father to her mother, down to her mother's waist and back again. "…I have to go practice my presentation."

"Wait! At least stay for dinner! It's been years since you..." Renee gently pulled out of her mother's grasp. "Maybe another day. You have stuff to buy, right? Bottles and diapers and…and…"

A coffin.

Sigh couldn't hide the injury on her face. "Renee-" Death draped an arm about his wife's shoulders, both consoling and holding her back. "You're right," he said evenly "we'll see you later." Renee fled from the kitchen like she thought they would chase her, out the door and down the sidewalk before the tears started again.

Sigh stared after her, aching.

"…she's so…so mad at me..."

"Sigh…" Sigh sniffed, her hand brushing across her cheek almost angrily. Stupid fucking tears. "I told them months ago about this. But...I didn't think how it would affect them. When they didn't comment on it I thought they were okay. I didn't even try to talk to them about it."

"They're an adult," Death insisted firmly. "They should not allow such things to spur jealousy. And we will not encourage such behavior." Sigh worried the hem of her shirt. "I should apologize." Death's gaze hardened, annoyed at the return of his wife's willingness to cave to their child's demands. It had always been hard for his powerful woman to steel herself against the whines of those she loved (save for him; there was a special spot in her heart for him, full of affectionate abuse), and her knee-jerk response to motherhood seemed to be to coddle. Old skirmishes consisted of getting her to let him train Rene ("NO! I want them to study! Why would they need to fight? They could get hurt!") to get the child to try to sleep in their own bed after infancy ("What if they need us?") eating dessert before dinner ("Technically, ice-cream is a salad…cows eat grass…this may have been more for me than them"). Death didn't mind it too much; it was actually the most beautiful thing in the world, her lovely face softening into maternal tenderness where their children were concerned. But sometimes, the times when she let herself hurt unnecessarily, it stoked his temper. "For what?"

"…for being a bad mom." Death sighed, swallowing the irritation in his voice as his fingers stilled her nervous hands. "You are a wonderful mother," he wasn't sure why he always needed to tell her. Who else was willing to reform and raise the kishin? "This is…an experience for all of us, right? An adjustment. They must understand that you're your own person. They are entitled to their upset, to their worry, but you are entitled to your happiness. You are not selfish for that. And it doesn't mean that you love them any less." He pulled away. "Stress is no good for you. Why do people have to keep telling you that? You carry on like this and our daughter will be born with a touch of colic and an ill-temper."

"Right…" Sigh took a deep breath before murmuring "I don't want our son to be too much like his father."

"Hn." Came Death's amused hum. It was simple to retreat to a mock fight. Sigh had wondered if that was a practiced response of his, if he had somehow predicted Rene's reaction to being home and feeling the world change under their feet. It wasn't implausible; Rene had always been one to swallow their emotions until they just couldn't take it anymore, acting out just to get rid of the mounting pressure of unexpressed anxiety and depression.

Death's shoulders had remained stiff as he pulled forth two mugs and poured the heated water. The warmth from the mugs was on the tips of his fingers as their hands brushed. Despite his hard words and the stiff dip on his lips there was slush behind the icy wall his eyes gave off. Sigh had giggled half-heartedly as he forgot to remove his mask (as always), the mug crashing into it instead of his lips. "I miss them, too," he had confessed after a few minutes, watching steam mist his wife's glasses. "But we should leave it be. You know how their tantrums are. They'll come around. Eventually."

Sigh folded her lips into her mouth. The start of a hot flash was on the back of her neck and her heart felt heavy.

"…Sigh." She averted her eyes. "What?"

"Leave it be."

"…we can't just-"

"Psyche. Leave it." She pouted.

"…I don't feel like cooking anymore," she finally grumbled after a moment. "I don't know why I thought…I'm not even hungry." Death scoffed. "You have to eat."

"No. I don't. I'll just train myself to use photosynthesis. It's better than your hippy food." She pushed aside the bowl of kale chips. Death's hands left Sigh's body with a swing of his cloak, throwing open the refrigerator with a dramatic flair that suggested effort to dispel the tense atmosphere. In all honesty, he had cut out of work too early and would probably have to head back at some point in the night. Couldn't have Nngggttk and Gkttrg, the kings of the Unseelie and Seelie (respectively), return to continue their dispute over nectar without proper mediation. "What did you eat today?"

"…eh."

"Eh?"

"Eh."

"And what food group is that in?" She rolled her eyes, leaning on the counter to watch him push around leftover yogurt and a carton of eggs.

"Ugghhh an apple. Wait…half an apple…?"

"What?!"

"…and a sweet tea?"

"Sigh!"

"I ate, didn't I?"

"I packed you a lunch! A full, balanced, lunch!"

"…I gave it to Cindy."

"PSYCHE!"

"SHE WAS HUNGRY!"

"SEVEN REALMS AND SEVEN RINGS, WOMAN."

Sigh was snapped back to present as a hand shot up beside her. She was sitting in the audience with several members from her class, Cindy's hand waving with a pen clenched between her fingers. She had been taking notes. "Ah, yes," Rene pointed to the woman and Cindy stood. "You said that a lot of what we understand of soul resonance may be based on capability, with forced resonance resulting in distortion. In the same topic, you said meditation and determination can still allow a healthy partnership to grow from instability. You came to this conclusion through your experience, but you said you didn't have a team. Can you tell us more?" Rene smiled gently. "Yes. You see, I'm a bit of a strange person. Aside from being fluid in my identity, I'm very, er, attached to my weapon."

"Attached?" Rene nodded solemnly. He carefully removed his jacket, hanging it on the microphone stand as he rolled his shoulders. Sigh winced when she saw the quality of the shirt underneath. They would have to take it to the tailor, if Rene was about to give the example she suspected.

Rene took a breath and flexed his body in a manner similar to stretching one's back. With no further warning, his spine exploded into a shower of black, molding and twisting like dark magma as it oozed free. Gasps bounced through the audience as they watched the mass shape itself into a pair of mighty, leathery wings.

Those wings were a thing of infamy the world over, not just for their appearance but also the ability of Rene themselves. The mingling of magics in their body had needed an outlet, some method by which to be exercised. Rene's wings had first appeared when they were five years old, scaring the shit out of their Aunt Liz and knocking over a table. Distressed and concerned, the woman had been shaking as she tried to console Rene, who, feeding off the elder's panic, was in tears.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

"No, it's alright, Honey, don't cry, it's alright. I'm just gonna call your dad, okay?" Rene clung to her as waves of emotion hit them, not all of them their own. The sensations rolled off Aunt Liz, vibrations of feeling pliable beneath Rene's hands. Concern and confusion and alarm and fascination. It wasn't until they were older than they were able to fully master their abilities of empathy, which were of great utility during the Second Dark Ages and the Sorority War; the former had seen Rene's inevitable reputation as the "angel" of despair.

Of all the emotions they could siphon from the air, melancholia was one of their favorites. They liked the biting taste of it on the back of their tongue, and the abject relief of the people when the weight had been lifted, even if temporarily. Regardless of the relief the winged figure could bring, some cultures viewed them as a harbinger of doom, one that appeared just before and just after catastrophe. Similarly, some saw them as a forewarning, benevolent in source. Rene just went where they could be of the most use.

The awe of the crowd was a bit too savory. It made Rene crave the sweet-salt of love-happiness. It was a nice, homemade dish; one he wasn't sure he would have again in the near future. Strange…something like that terrified him very much. He fought to keep his eyes from the beaming of his mother's face.

"This is my weapon," he spoke into the microphone, relieved at the steadiness of his own voice. "I call it Revelation." Remaining darkness crawled down Rene's arm, sharpening to a startlingly red sword. "I'm not much for hunting kishin eggs. But, when you have a soul as big as mine, demons have a bad habit of trying to take a bite. Revelation makes sure they don't get too close." Cindy blinked rapidly. She tried to pull her eyes from the massive wings and back to the speaker, but the task proved formidable. Cosmologically dark, with twists of red and white and what almost looked like eyes dimpled on the flesh. Fascinating. She wanted to cut him up. "So…you're a weapon?"

"No."

"But you're a meister."

"Also no."

"Then what are you?" Sigh dug her elbow into her friend's hip as punishment for her rudeness, but Rene just smiled brightly. "Both. And…neither, I guess. It's a balancing act that I was born to conquer, and it's taken years of focus. At this point, the three of us are just me."

"…Three?"

"That concludes our time!" Sigh stood as the school bell went off. "I'm afraid that because of our late start, we don't have time for any more formal questions." There was a groaning in the crowd. Several hands had been up in question, hoping to get to know their visitor a bit better before they left. "Don't worry," Rene gave a breathy chuckle in amusement at their ire. "I'll be in town for some time yet; perhaps I can stop by the school again." The crowd began to filter from the auditorium, speaking excitedly. A few approached Rene where he stood on the stage, posing questions and smiling up at him, blushing and stuttering when his pretty pouty lips quirked.

Sigh waited until the last of his fanbase took their leave before standing. Rene had closed out his presentation and was pulling on his jacket when he noticed her approach. He held steady for seconds that stretched into days, before a familiar fear overtook his visage. Panic flashed in his eyes and he turned on his heel trying to flee backstage regardless of his previous bravado. His mother leapt upon the stage and landed in front of him with a stirring of air, blocking his escape. "Rene," she said firmly, "we have to talk." His gaze avoided hers, looking back to the empty chairs, and over either side of her shoulders before settling just over her head. "Mother," he hummed carefully. "There's nothing that needs to be said."

"Isn't there?" Sigh grew agitated at his unspoken melancholia, his heated red aura recoiling and snapping like a cornered animal. "The way we left things the other day suggests otherwise."

"I thought I got my point across in full."

"You never do when Renee does the talking," Sigh noted gently. "But I know that you'll tell me now. Why you're…I mean, your father thinks it's just jealously. I understand, of course. You've been an only child for over three hundred years. This must be quite the shock for you." Rene's eyes were the liquid red of blood and fire, more guarded than Renee's and yet lingering with the same shy passion. His focus on Sigh encouraged her to continue. Bland uncertainty was seasoned with sour irritation as it oozed from his mother's pores. "But I want you to know, we will love you no less than ever before. You are so important to us. So important to me-"

"Am I?" It was rare that Rene raised his voice, so much so that Sigh was startled to silence even at the only mildly higher octave. "Am I, truly, Mother?" He ran his hand through his hair and chewed his lip. He felt overwhelmed and wanted her to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into a rough embrace and tell him that he was okay and she was okay and everything was okay and it was so annoying how he wanted to run both to and from her. Contentment was always such a splendid appetizer for happiness, warm and heady like dark chocolate in hot milk. He just wanted everything to be okay.

"I'm not…I mean…" he took a breath. He tasted anger in the air, her eyes flashing briefly as she fought to pull the leash on her temper. "…no. I will say…I am. I am upset." Sigh nodded, the gesture tense. "Good. Good! I knew you were! I just wanted to talk to you about it. I thought you would have to bring it up first but…well…I wasn't sure how long you'd be in town and I didn't want you to leave angry. We'll handle this, together. We'll sit down and figure this out, okay?" She gripped his upper arm, fondness in her eyes. "Come home for dinner tonight. Just you and me, and your father-"

"NO!" Rene barked, snatching away. "He did this to you!" Sigh blinked in surprise, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows.

"You know that's not true," Sigh said slowly, swallowing shock and exasperation. "As if I'd allow anything like that. Or that he would be capable of anything to that effect." She reached out her aura towards his, trying to comfort him in a fashion that had always worked. His eyes narrowed and darkened. "If not that then…why?" he demanded, voice cracking. "That's what I need to ask. That's what…why, Mother?" Many thoughts ran across Sigh's mind. One memory seemed to dominate. That other time that Rene was damn near becoming an older sibling but…that little fire had gone out far too soon. Too soon for her to share the information with her older child, but not soon enough for the pain to be lessened. She was raw and weak and a failure. She had taken time then. Time that they -she and her husband- had needed apart. Time to mourn. Time to breathe. It was agony to look Death in the face and see that flickering of pain and relief, one and the same, twisting in his mien. But it wasn't just that. And it wasn't just-

Black haired, blue eyed-

Perhaps it was many things.

"My reasons are my own," Sigh held her chin high, disappointment crashing against Rene's frustration. "And you should respect them. Calm down."

"Calm?!" Rene's voice dropped dangerously. "Calm, Mother?" He took a step towards her. His hand lifted. Fell back to his side. "Is he…is Father calm about this? Does he know?" Sigh scoffed. "Rene, he was the first to know. He knew before anyone else." Rene shook his head, misery in his eyes. "I don't know if he doesn't see or…doesn't care to. But Mother, I do. I see…" Sigh crossed her arms. "What? The gender? Don't tell me. Or the species? Reaper, your father insists. Or-" Sigh felt the blood drain from her face. She had watched the shadows intensify in Rene's look until she stumbled upon his unspoken claim. She swallowed thickly. He couldn't… "You think you see. But you're young. You-"

"No. No, no, no, no," he suppressed a desperate noise in the back of his throat. "No. You've doomed yourself and you know it and it's just so selfish and awful." Sigh reached for him again, but he pulled back. "NO. Don't…don't make me love you and then leave me. Don't…I don't know how…" That hurt Sigh. The sight of her son so distressed, crumbled and defeated, it was a strange, wrathful pain that seemed to strike at her foundations. She froze, long enough for Rene to step around her and vanish backstage.

"I'm just saying, if we knock it out in a group we'll have time to catch the movie this weekend!" Natsu huffed and shrugged. Mari narrowed her eyes, adjusting the strap on her bag. The talk had lasted longer than expected, and she would be up late studying. She knew finals weren't for another month but if she grew into the habit of study now the temptation to cram last minute would be lessened. "And I'm saying that we can't just throw everything into a pile and walk away! It's gotta be nice! It's like Ms. Lithe says 'if you pull it out your ass-"

"-it's gonna be shit," the sentence was finished by a girl with bantu knots, a light smile on her dark face as she watched her friends. She crossed her arms, pale pink nails tapping on her bicep as she nodded. "I think Mari takes this one, guys. I'm awful fond of all those A's we've been able to rack up this year. Hate for a B to mess it up." Mari beamed. "Thank you, Kiri."

"I gotchu, Girl."

"Hold up," Kiri's partner was the shortest of the group, but also oldest by couple months. Dark brown eyes and hair shaved close to his head, Fumo, the demon drum, had a frown on his face. "My man Natsu's got a point. I mean, we haven't steered wrong yet, and we've got half of it done already so one night off ain't gonna kill us."

"The weekend before its due?" Kiri scoffed. "Wha'chu on, bruh?'."

"Ya bein' tight up, thinkin' straight'ta dis point!"

"Okay!" Josie clapped her hands together. Her lips were pursed when she pushed her noh mask to the side. She didn't like taking charge. Found it to be too much of a bother. But they were wasting time and it was getting late and she has leftover hot pot sitting in the fridge that she wanted to get back to. "Let's just vote on it. Majority gets their way. Okay?" Mari nodded and elbowed Natsu in the side when he grumbled. "Good! All those in favor of working on the project Sunday, raise your hands." Mari, Kiri, and Mari's partner, Dedric, raised their hands. "Okay! Those who wanna hang out instead?" Natsu, Fumo, and Josie. A tie. "…fuck!"

"OMG seriously?! What the Hell, Dedric?" The quiet boy shrugged and shoved a chocolate bar in his mouth. "Well we have to do something!" Mari huffed. "Half of us can't just work on it! That wouldn't be fair!"

"Oh, and it's so fair that you keep insisting EVERYBODY waste their time!"

"I swear, Natsu, if you don't watch your tone I'll…Charlotte?"

Mari, trying to catch the other girl's attention as she flickered through the crowds. "We can get her to break the tie!" Most of Charlotte's credits had her following the NOT course, but an overlap in core classes had enabled her to be folded into their group and become close friends with Mari. She didn't have a partner but had enough opinions to garner some semblance of respect amongst her peers.

The girl jumped at the sound of Mari's voice, but didn't turn around. Unlike her usual tidy, preppy attire, she wore faded jeans and a large shirt, her hair tangled and oily on her head. She had been missing class a lot, lately, Mari's willingness to take notes and drop off homework her saving grace. "Charlotte! Wait up!" She bolted deeper into the crowds of rush hour, trying to lose her friends. Her hands had a deathly grip on her bag, keeping it from banging against her thigh has she ran. "Where is she goin'?" Temporarily forgetting their fight, Mari bolted forward. "CHARLOTTE! It's us!" Still the girl fled. "Char-" Mari paused as Natsu grabbed her elbow. "What?" Natsu's dark, dark blue eyes were focused in the intent manner that always made Mari blush. "Don't know," he grumbled. "Bad feelin'." Josie leveled her partner with a look. "Like, one of those feelings?"

"Yeah." Natsu had a 6th sense when conflict was on the way. Something deep in his bloodline, the red footsteps of a war-god that could smell a fight. It excited him, to some degree, but he also found it very, very concerning. It had appeared nearly a year ago but had been so fleeting he had dismissed it. It had stayed away for a time, long enough for Natsu to almost forget about the burn in his spine and the churn of his stomach. When it had come back following Ms. Lithe's announcement, he had attributed the feeling to something other than war on the horizon.

It was, after all, common knowledge that Ms. Lithe was his favorite teacher. Like, ever. She was sweet and pretty and smart and pretty and strong and pretty and her boobs were freakin' enormous, and her hands were so warm and she was so determined and he still remembered her smell from when she had saved he and his brother from his clan's civil war, taking them to Shibusen and holding them close and feeding them and reading to them and she was literally the best person to ever live.

He had known she was married. It was hard to ignore the icy feel of her ring whenever she patted his shoulder or drove her fist into his skull. But, really, that asshole didn't have to hold her like that. Natsu could break that dude in two, he really could, just some lame-ass string bean in a nice suit with a smug face. Dum-vid may have lucked out in knocking up Ms. Lithe, but like Hell he could just touch her however he wanted. He didn't deserve her!

…Natsu forced his thoughts to digress.

Ms. Lithe's announcement had made something unconscious click in the back of his skull, the thick anticipation of combat heavy like blood on his palate. Something was coming. It was bad. And now, looking at Charlotte's retreating back, it was close.

"…okay," he said slowly, aware of the eyes of his friends. "I change my vote. We don't gotta go to the premiere. Let's do the project." Fumo groaned but Mari smiled brightly. When she did that, it brought all the features of her face into sync. It wasn't half bad. "But first we're training!" The smile fell from Mari's face.

"UGGGHHHH you always want to train!" Natsu just smirked, already veering back towards campus.

It was easy to underestimate how massive Shibusen had gotten over the years. Although it had gone through a period of stagnation in both attendance and offered programs (notably following the Second Dark Ages) present day saw it on a noticeable upswing, with the property swelling to reflect its ongoing success. It had begun offering courses on witchcraft after the establishment of the new witch queen, the dormitories expanding to accommodate the influx of students looking for magic beyond weaponry. Fairies and werewolves and vampires and druids. Necromancers and shaman and the voodoo clans. Class size grew and pushed the boundaries of classrooms and teachers, and when it was all said and done Shibusen was two full stories taller with half the surrounding stairs gone. Much of the formerly white detailing had been replaced with "badge" colors to differentiate between the majors of the students and the sports teams that were now possible with other schools also possessing magical students to compete against. The school had become a representation of fraternity the likes of which other demon-weapon schools envied, something that was placed in the works by the elasticity of Lord Death's rein and the legends of Spartoi from centuries past.

The woman floating over the school stood on what appeared to be a large grey ball made entirely of hair. She was wearing thin black top and yellow shorts, black lines dragged horizontally across her cheeks, an eyepatch covering her right eye. Her hat was that of a witch, large and dark grey with two silver triangles springing up from either side. Silvery-blue hair was cropped close to her head to reveal pointed ears and a thin mouth, a pale face and a red tongue that had slipped past her lips out of habit. She was thin and lanky, stick arms crossing over pin-prick breasts as she glared down at the building with something akin to fascinated disgust.

"It's gotten bigger since I was last here, Lupin Joey. Been a couple of decades, so I guess it's fine," she chewed her tongue. The ball beneath her ballet flats rumbled. She sighed and allowed her feet to drop from beneath her, coming to rest fully on Joey's head. "Sorta nostalgic. I wonder if they missed me after I left?" Another growl. The woman smirked and tapped her fingers against her companion. "You're right. Nothing to change, anyway. What a bother." She uncrossed her arms and lifted her hands. The tips of her forefingers and thumbs were pressed together, the woman peering through the resulting triangle of flesh. "Just gotta wait for the signal."

"In Boise, Idaho, a man walked into a daycare, doused himself and several children in gasoline, and lit a fire. Five severely wounded, two dead, including the perp. An anonymous video was submitted to 3N with Caballeros de la bruja cristal claiming responsibility." Lord Death took a deep breath, swallowing his wrath before it could manifest itself into his shadows. It wouldn't do to alarm his team unnecessarily. He needed them focused. "And this follows up on the series of murders, and the sudden surge in rebel witch attacks. In the meantime, the radius of the events increases with each blow, the foci continually shifting." Jack sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Damn bastards are baiting us." The young gun-sword was the Death Scythe on duty today, and although Lord Death knew better than to pick favorites, something about the man's calculative gaze and down-to-earth commentary made him likeable. It certainly helped that he had a habit of saying what Death himself was thinking.

"The only members captured are peons. Until we find a significant nest, it's like crushing drones," Dr. Cullen crossed her arms and closed the briefing file. "In addition, while our allies to the North and East have succeeded in capturing cult members, but they have proven more willing to die rather than aid in our efforts. Mr. Peoter and Sanji-san have noted that events in Eastern Europe and East Asia have plateaued while we face this spike here in the West. It's obvious that they're focusing their efforts, perhaps heading to their "holy land" west of here." She made brief eye contact with Lord Death's eye holes, Ms. Lithe's gaze burning into her head. Her words had been for the benefit of the others in the room -it told them that the enemy was potentially coming to them and they had to be ready- but in the same breath she was able to express that that was potentially not the only reason they were coming to the region.

Dr. Cullen found herself experiencing a strange sense of defensiveness; not just as Sigh's coworker, but as her friend. The thought of someone purposefully out to harm her or commit wickedness in the woman's name was enough to send Cindy in a fit of madness. She wanted to shred them to pieces and burn them bit by bit, analyzing the fantasy that was the natural simplicity of fire and flesh. Her life before…always the weirdo, always the freak, the kid with the sick grandmother and no other family to her name…always chasing bugs and smiling too broadly with her muddy toes and broken nails…Shibusen had changed all that. She had always known she was the smartest in most rooms, but her punishment for such a sin had all ended when she met the Death Weapons, when she met the Shibusen science team, when she met Lord and Lady Death. For the first time since her Gammy had died she had a family. It was an odd sensation. She had never known her mind was capable of such a thing. It drove her to put away a nest-egg to pay to dissect her own brain in the next ten years.

Lord Death clenched his fist beneath his cloak. Ms. Lithe carefully schooled her face, despite reading the twist in in Dr. Cullen's aura. "And Las Vegas itself?"

"Operations as usual. Our sources imply that it's the safest place to be right now. Eye of the storm."

"For the moment."

"Right."

"If that's the case we could set a trap," Dr. Pillai said pensively, still in his uniform from the nurse's office. "Be ready for them when they arrive and stage an ambush."

"That assumes that they won't jus' be sendin' us more small fry. I mean, aye, we must be rid of as many as possible. But not if we're just mownin' down weeds," Ms. Coveney argued. As though sensing her displeasure, her primped white cravat seemed more ruffled than usual. "Without knowin' what they're after we cannay even know where or when they'll strike."

"But if we did know," Jack's hand was on his chin. "It could be big enough to lure out a "big fish", right? If we wipe out enough of the small guys, or even a few middle influencers, we could call down hellfire."

"Well, that's a possibility," Ms. Lithe interjected. "If we are able to deduce from their current movements when they'll get to our neck of the woods. Even a skirmish would do. Or perhaps a bit of bait-"

"No," Death rumbled, cheery voice faltering a bit as he leveled Ms. Lithe with a gaze. "There will be no baiting. We have nothingwe would chance losing." The statement was heavy with intent. Something unspoken was palpable in the air, and the more perceptive members of the meeting found themselves feeling oddly ill-at-ease. Ms. Lithe tensed her jaw and returned Death's look with no hesitation. She was one of Shibusen's tenured employees, so perhaps her bravery stemmed from her experience and own considerable power. Lord Death eventually turned back to Dr. Cullen, breaking the staring contest with the woman who seemed absolutely undaunted. "Is there a pattern?" Cindy nodded.

"Took me a minute to pin it, but they move one district every 15.5853 days. They tend to go west and then down, at times altering latitude by a median degree of .879. They should cross into Nevada by the end of the month, by this schedule." Ms. Lithe hummed in understanding. "I think we should send two teams, S-class, to Las Vegas and Carson City. It's a known fact that this organization has witches, ogres, and warlocks in their ranks. We have to assume they are being saved for the finale of whatever they are after." She leaned back and crossed her arms, naturally expecting her word to be law. "It lays down defense, and if anything happens here they can be back within the hour."

"Agreed," Lord Death hummed. "And Ms. Stilmant and Mr. Lane should soon be back from their respective leaves. Jack, message them. Have them patrol Route 55 and the skies over Reno. If Caballeros de la bruja cristal choses a traditional method of entering Nevada, we'll know."

"What about the US government?" Ms. Coveney questioned. "Can't pretend not to see we got a terrorist organization wreakin' havoc out here. And I doubt they're gonna let us go to all-out war on their land." Her brother, Groundskeeper Eddie, nodded his wizened agreement.

"Even if our actions were not protected by the 37th Amendment," Dr. Pillai noted "three separate hurricanes have struck the Southeast coast in so many weeks. The National Guard and FEMA are swamped. Secretary of the Interior has granted us permission to act as necessary. We've got the nod, all we need is the firepower."

"Which we'll have," Lord Death added. "Passports have been granted to two teams from St. Augustine's. They'll be arriving tomorrow morning to stay until the end of the month. We'll issue a state of emergency is issued to Death City citizens for the weekend of the 16th. We are not making the effort for true war, but deterrence is a necessity-"

The knock was soft but so unexpected it easily cast a spot of silence upon the professional group of meisters, scythes, and warriors. The large double doors squealed open, as none had thought to lock them for a Friday evening meeting. The young woman looked a bit mussed, her face hard and blank, a messenger bag on her shoulder. There was a slight blush to her cheeks, and the hand on the door trembled a bit. "Charlotte?" Ms. Lithe was on her feet and before the girl in an instant, lifting a hand in comfort. "Are you alright?" Charlotte's eyes glinted. Her lips were slightly parted to allow a heavy, soft, pant. Ms. Lithe could feel the fever through her shirt. The young woman shook her head and Ms. Lithe pursed her lips. She thought perhaps Charlotte was delirious and had wandered to school in the racks of illness. Hadn't the girl been absent from class the past week? "Carry on with the meeting," she called to her comrades over her shoulder. "I'm going to take Charlotte home." Her blue-eyed gaze shifted to Dr. Cullen. "I expect an email tonight as a debrief."

Although the abandoned halls of Shibusen could be seen as unsettling to some, they were rather comforting to one who had known them as long as Sigh. The torches that had once dotted the older walls had long been replaced by fluorescent lights, large windows allowing in the light of the setting sun to set the building ablaze in reds and oranges. The cleaning classes of the day had already taken their leave, and although Sigh noted some of the chalkboards had been poorly dusted she wasn't one to complain too deeply. This was a long weekend, after all, a holiday on Monday. She knew many of the students had plans.

She would just punish them Tuesday.

Sigh looked over at Charlotte. The girl seemed to be struggling to keep her pace, and her teacher wondered if it would be so odd to carry her. Or to call her parents? How had the poor thing gotten so far from home? Perhaps Sigh shouldn't have been surprised. If her years in the classroom had taught her anything, it was that people often overlooked the basic necessities of their children. It was not always a purposeful thing. Just busy people with busy lives, just as grateful to have their kids distracted and off their hands as much as to have the kids getting an education. But Sigh had always been under the impression that Charlotte's parents liked to hover, with the girl getting a new phone every semester and clothes that cost more than Sigh could ever bring herself to spend on such things.

When Mrs. Jones had called the week before to beg illness on her daughter's behalf, Sigh hadn't thought it would be this bad. She hadn't seen anything like this since the outbreak of Galton's Fever; a disease that had appeared as the descendant to Chicken Pox and Polio. These days there was a vaccine for it, but some parents remained of the stubborn mindset that vaccines caused more harm than good. Although the Joneses hadn't seemed like those type of people, Sigh couldn't find any other explanation for the drawn-out illness and the girl's current state.

"I don't…" Charlotte's lips were so dry they cracked and bled when she spoke. Sigh stopped to look at her, concern bringing her to stand close once more. She had developed immunities to mankind's diseases, anyway. "What was that, Hon? Do you feel unwell? Dr. Pillai has a few wheelchairs in his office. I can push you the rest of the way, if you need me to." Charlotte didn't seem to hear her, face dotted with moisture and a wayward tear escaping. "I don't …won't anto…" Sigh's eyes widened at the sight of the girl's distress. "Don't want to do what?" Charlotte's trembles escalated, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag. Despite her weary face, her eyes were much too big, and much too bright. "Have to…have to…run…"

"Charlotte! There you are!" The man quickly walked towards them, his presence jarring Sigh from her study of Charlotte. She was certain she had never met him before, hadn't felt him approach, and yet he seemed perfectly at ease being in their school after it closed. He had a persistent smile on his face, although his brown eyes widened slightly in shock when he noticed Sigh. "Ah, and the industrious Ms. Lithe, correct? What a thrill! I confess, you're even more lovely in person. I am truly honored! Overwhelmed! You're gorgeous!" He pulled up just shy of Sigh's personal space. He was barely taller than the woman, but he seemed to try and hold himself even higher. It was like he was passively attempting to superimpose his presence on her; something that was reminiscent of the primitive males of the 21st century and something Sigh hadn't encountered in several decades. But…she supposed he was only human, and it wasn't like this was the first time someone had unconsciously tread upon her tail. Normally, she wouldn't be stiffening like she was, and she wondered why a part of her was screaming to hex him into flame. She squashed down her discomfort and forced herself to look away from the aura that was eerily calm for a mortal.

"I know," she drawled, eying him warily. "But I don't think we've met." The man smiled larger, pulling back into a bow. "Paul Jones, Ma'am! Father of that sweet little girl you have there." Sigh's eyes grazed over him once more. Dark, straight hair and a pointed face. He looked nothing like round-cheeked Charlotte, but his aura didn't speak of a lie. It…didn't speak much of anything, actually, a factor that sent jolts of warning arching across Sigh's mind once more. "I confess," the man kept speaking, his voice steady and more authoritative than Sigh thought he deserved after breaking into her school. Perhaps the wards were on the fritz again? Last time that happened, the building had literally let anyone without a keycard in. What a hassle. Had taken Sigh and a team of three engineering witches to address the full programmatic problems. She made a mental note to call in the magical contractors.

…although that may not have been the issue here. Her eyes flickered to the student lanyard about Charlotte's neck.

"I'm a bit surprised for our first meeting to go like this," Paul regained Sigh's attention. "I had it pictured much more formally in my mind. I wanted to wear a suit and cologne. Get a nice haircut…perhaps we could go somewhere private where we could…'talk'. There's so much I want to know. I came here to…gosh-golly, you smell so good. Your skin looks so soft." His eyes were shimmering in weird affection, his voice sheepish but brimming with excitement. Still creeped out and annoyed by her own discomfort, Sigh drew herself up tall and felt her eyebrow cock in distaste. Allure no longer played a role in her life; implying the man was an independent sleaze and was no victim to magic. "If we could stay on topic, Mr. Jones, Charlotte is sick, and I'm happily married," her voice had icicles. "To allow this sick child to wander the streets by herself in such a state is damn near neglect, and you temp me to have counselors visit your home. I suggest that you take Charlotte home immediately. I'll have one of her classmates come by with her work next week, as I don't expect to see her for some time." The man cocked his head to the side. "Oh? The little blonde girl with the pigtails again? Oh, that won't do! She's much too nosey, asks too many questions. Can't have her around my home!" Sigh began to feel a bit ill, looking at his painted grin and his blink-less gaze and his much-too-still aura.

"Are you looking at me?" She narrowed her eyes at the amusement in his tone. "Pardon?" His grin was now so big it made his eyes squint. "Looking at my soul? Or, more accurately, my aura? I'm curious as to what you see. Not that it can be much of anything, not the way I am now. Am I not perfect, in your eyes, Lady Psyche? Am I not beautiful?" The sound of her name coming from someone other than her closest friends was extremely unsettling, and a chill ran up her spine. She pulled away from the silence of Charlotte and the grin of her spooky father, gazing into his face steadily. "Sir, as we have established," she spoke more to give herself time to read the man fully more than to convince him. The trick wasn't getting rid of him; it was not accidentally killing him if he chose to act on what she read as aggression echoing in his tense shoulders and hidden hands. "My name is Ms. Lithe. I am your daughter's teacher here, at Shibusen. She is sick. And you should take her home, before things get worse." The man clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "Forgive me, My Lady, but that might be a problem."

"Why?"

"Because that's not what I came here to do." The weight of a familiar, heavy, witch soul caught Sigh off guard, and her attention spun to the window. "What the-" The force field slipped through the school, a sensation that Sigh felt like cold water running down her back.

And what Lord Death witnessed in person.

It encapsulated the Death Room, where the meeting was in its final stages. Although many in the room had sensed the presence of a witch nearby -someone with a soul too small and fuzzy to be Ms. Lithe- they had ignored it, believe it to be another student straggling behind their peers. Their arrogance was proven to be folly at the appearance of the incandescent bubble, deceptively thin as it surrounded them.

"Remain calm," Death's authoritative voice sliced through the din of surprise "its temporary." It was oddly nostalgic. The runes flickering and sparking on a thin yellow field, appearing to be the consistency of hand-blown glass but strong enough to pin Death. It was interesting to see such a thing after so long, the stink of a wolfman suspiciously absent. Death's large yellow eyes roved their surroundings, glowing through the hollows in his mask. "There's only one of them. The only thing they've bought is five minutes. Although, I would not be averse to us shrinking that timeframe a bit. I would like to know what they think they're doing." At his que, the teachers and weapons unleashed a bombardment on the field, magic cackling and flashing across the wall.

"-chair," it was the quiet, horrified realization of Dr. Cullen's tone that had Death's eye darting to her. Unlike the others, she had yet to attempt to break the barrier, assumedly using the wavelength disrupting technique passed through her family. Instead, her gaze was enraptured by their abandoned table. Death followed her gaze, his own heart jerking and stuttering in his chest. What had once been Sigh's abandoned chair was now empty space, a removal of mass that had also taken a chunk of the table in the distraction of the field. It was neatly done, a circle reminiscent of a cookie cutter, her forgotten mug sliced in two with cooled tea bleeding to the floor. It was quite the spell, performed with the skill to distract with the larger field, while also directing the magic just enough to have transported the woman. Death stiffed, his eyes once more meeting those of Dr. Cullen as the realization sunk in.

Fuck.

He spun on his heel, Jack tense at his side as he sensed Death's mounting upset. There! Sigh was still with that child, her soul agitated as their small party was joined by a third and fourth. Death swore he had never seen these souls before in his school, an oddness about them making their wavelengths sputter and restart like old car engines.

Mechanical…souls?

"Dr. Cullen! Reverse frequency for sector 3L of defense shields!"

"Reverse…?" her eyes widened. She, too, could still detect Sigh in the building. Reversing the shields would keep her there, before the concerns of her friends and family could come to be realized. Dr. Cullen pulled up the control panel, fingers flying as she worked to obey Lord Death. The reaper turned to his Death Weapon, unwilling to standby another moment. So stupid. He had been so stupid, and now-

"Jack!"

"Sir!" There was barely time for Lord Death to hiss a warning to his teachers before unleashing a nasty, magenta, bombardment. The field quivered, but held after a moment. Yes, he would definitely be able to break through. He just needed a bit of time.

I'll kill you. If you touch her, I'll fucking kill you.

"Forgive me, My Lady, but I humbly insist you come with us." Sigh quirked an eyebrow, magic gathering at her fingertips. The magical pressure of the field that had dropped on her school sat at the back of her skull like an impending headache. "And I humbly insist you go fuck yourself." Mr. Jones cocked his head to the side. He moved quickly, seeming to underestimate her as he pulled out a demon taser, their soul and aura not unlike his. Sigh was quicker on the draw. "Mzabibu!" The thorny vines sprang from the ground and tore into Mr. Jones, throwing him back and pinning him to the wall. "Ugh. You suck," Sigh mocked. "Now tell your witch to drop the field; her queen would like a word."

"Once again," there was only a hint of a wince on Mr. Jones' face as he was made to breathe against the magic thorns digging into his skin. "I apologize for my insubordination. Although I know this is a test. Destiny drives us." Sigh pursed her lips. She could always wait it out, she supposed. She had never encountered anything like the magical barrier pinning her allies, but the power being pumped into it was akin to hot air in a soap bubble. It would hold, for now, but it was likely to crumble beneath its own weight, and that was if they didn't find a way to break it down, first. It wasn't that Sigh thought she need help to fend off the eerie Mr. Jones, but it would be nice if she could touch base with her comrades in light of these new developments. Perhaps-

The vines shattered and Sigh pouted, eyeing the activated taser. "Counteracts lesser spells, then?" Mr. Jones only grinned wider and lunged at her. There was more speed to his movements, now, perhaps at the skill level of a three or two-star meister. Sigh vaguely wondered if he had been one of her students in the past. If so, she should have failed his ass. "Mr. Jones," she said sternly. "Stop this nonsense! If this is the best you have to offer, I'm afraid that you've wasted my time and the time of this school," she clipped his jaw with her elbow. Although his head flew back, his arms swung forward, grazing her waist with the taser. It sliced a neat line in her shirt. "Sorry about your blouse," the demon weapon apologized, revealing her feminine nature.

"Please don't hold that against us, My Lady. Truly, we are no match for you." Sigh really just wanted this to be over. She leveled blows into Mr. Jones waist, face, and throat, throwing him back with blood free-flowing from his broken nose. She slapped her hands together, sealing her palms and prepping a transportation spell to take his crazy-ass to the lowest level of the dungeon. It was the level retained for magical criminals. It would force the taser from her weapon-form and restrain the two intruders until Sigh could decide what to do. This all seemed a bit too coincidental to just be an outbreak of madness. These two were going to need to be interrogated. "Aura dunia kuleta chini jela-"

"NO!" Sigh caught herself on the balls of her feet as she was knocked out of her spell. The halls of Shibusen were large, but not large enough that the ogre that appeared wasn't stuffed into the space. Sigh frowned. "What the Hell…?" The beast swung down its club, which Sigh blocked by crossing her forearms over her head. Her other two arms appeared at her command, leveling a repellant spell that sent the monster careening down the hall. "Kuruka-mtego!" A much stronger detainment spell, one attached to Sigh's siphon on the Earth and that would keep the ogre pinned until she released it. Her ears tingled and she brought up a shield of branches before the wyrm's acidic breath could scorch her completely. A bit brushed past her cheek, and she winced at the sting. "Where the fuck y'all coming from?!" The beast roared in response -or perhaps in pain- as it was impaled on a craggy succulent outcropping. As it lay still, a harpy dived for Sigh's head, talons snatching at her hair and wings beating filth and feathers into her eyes. A mad centaur sent arrows flying, one burying itself in Sigh's thigh before literal blades of grass relieved it of its bow, fingers, and jugular. Sigh heard herself panting, running up against the magical wall she had constructed for herself.

She couldn't go all out. She couldn't risk flooding her system with power. She ground her teeth and broke off the arrow in her leg, tensing her muscles to stop the bleeding.

Charlotte had opened her bag and was now holding a thick brown book with gold detailing. Despite its implied age it looked almost new, grasped in her hands, the word "EIBON" glowing in bold, daring, font. "You stupid bastards," Sigh snarled. "Giving that to a kid. Charlotte!" The girl's eyes were dim but determined. She didn't even flinch at the stern tone of Sigh's voice. "Put that down! You don't know how to use it!"

"But she does." Mr. Jones' voice was warm, moist, and unwelcome as it hissed into Sigh's ear. She snapped her arm back and out, but he dodged; she had been slowed by her bum leg. "All those 'sick' days,' the man hummed eyes wide with reverence. "And she practiced and practiced and practiced. My little genius! Able to hold a magic tool in her bare hands! Was she not chosen by you, Lady Cristal? Is she not blessed to free you?"

"NO! And I'm even more pissed you got the balls to think to attach my name to this idiocy!"

"Charlotte, Dearest," the taser spoke "why don't you show our beloved lady how much you have learned for her?" To Sigh's horror, the girl nodded and used both hands to open the book. She flickered through the pages, seeming to summon at random -aeternae, basan and dodomeki from Japan, nuckelavee from the British Isles, the mighty grootslang and kongamato and several bili apes from the African continent, a thunderbird, a group of imps, a cursed rat king and a trio of zombies- creatures and beasts and demons spilling from the book like water from an upended urn. Sigh lunged forward. She had to stop them! The building was mostly empty, but only mostly. And with the death scythes and Lord Death still trapped in the field she had to contain the aberrations before they could come upon a hapless student or cafeteria worker. Heaven forbid they make it into town! Her leg screamed as she turned towards a kelpie out of water, readying a heated spell of flame and death, when she realized she was sliding. Backwards.

Her eyes widened but she turned too late, the book snapping shut after its prize was behind its spine.

An apoplectic roar rattled the walls of the school and sank talons of visceral fear into the Joneses. Mr. Jones smiled. "OH! Is it that time already? Time to go, family!" And they were sucked from the space through funnels of magic.

The barrier finally snapped beneath Death's barrage. He screamed in pain and wrath, the flicker of his wife's soul sucked from his sight, the heartbeat of his unborn child suddenly silent. There was little time to mourn as the beasts were upon them.