Author's note: Looking hastily back, I see my girlfriend has taken the liberty of hijacking a last minute AN of her own near the end of the last bad end. While I normally don't do reviews, I do submit to her statement that it will encourage some "connecting with reader" empathy. So I have no restriction from reviews from this point on, but do not expect me to reply, or point it out in a future author's note, unless she explicitly states there's something (suggestion, insight, criticism) that needs to be addressed. "R&R" up to your discretion. Merlin out.

AN: this will mark divergence from canon, but without any description of canon hell's geography, have nothing to work with. (well, alternate universe to begin with, not to mention the missing info like elsea's bigsis) consider splitting up the Kanon route? Shall see. In the meantime, work on chapter 18 of Lamperouge Breaking afterwards

" . . . and so the buddy, Katsuragi Keima of the mortal realm, was able to use the Love-Love Method to expose a Runaway Spirit after a period of ten mortal days, nineteen hours, and thirty-one minutes. " Hakua Helmium paced around the pyramidal object in her room, holding a sound receiver to her mouth. She watched the scene unfold just as she dictated to the receiver the events that had happened during the capture.

"Side-note: the buddy has once again shown to have remarkable analytical acumen, as demonstrated by his statement (see above) concerning his consideration of the reopening of the gap; and seems to have shaped his own plan of capture based on that consideration. Furthermore, the buddy has also demonstrated what seems to be an innate acting ability, as shown above when he used the Illusionary Word: Disguise Variant 10 to deceive the target with an adopted persona." Her eyes widened critically upon seeing her own figure still sitting cross-legged some meters away from the two mortals.

"Continuing, after the Spirit was freed through the Buddy's efforts, a wave of energy then erupted, estimated to be at around a fifty kilometer radius as after-capture scans indicated, which signalled Squad Member Hakua de Rotto Helmium of the Spirit's release. Hakua then proceeded to intercept the Spirit, having already prepared the necesssary protective cantrips around the area." She adjusted her study glasses while peering at her clay version, who flew at impossible speeds to reach the spirit's location instantaneously.

"Preliminary cantrips in place, the Member then proceeded to carve out a magic circle, created within the parameters set out by the Regulatory Committee. The seal was Superbian in design, and was chosen thus because of the latent high defensive power it could-"

A powerful boom made her almost bite her tongue, and the she-devil was nearly knocked into her recording pyramid. It did send her glasses flying, and Hakua stood in furious silence later as she waited for the dust to settle behind her.

The Capturing God stood in the doorway, in his usual cleaning attire with various cleaning supplements inserted here and there, and held a cleaning broom in his right hand like a veritable magician's staff. Hakua beheld his magically battered form as he glared at her, and she restrained herself none as she glared back.

"What in Hell are you trying to do, idiot!" They both shouted in unison, each cry rending the atmosphere between the two.

"She-devil. My mother has tasked me to clean out the house yet again, and I would appreciate it if you would not delay me anymore than I need to! I have a really big backlog thanks to that capture, so please. Stay out. Of my way!" Keima rushed into the room, before Hakua forestalled him with a brandished scythe.

"Commoner! Proper human decorum states that one should knock before entering a room that isn't theirs, and you have once again violated that without any qualms whatsoever! If you had just bothered to attempt to keep up the front of human decency, then you would've known better than to enter the room by force!" she quivered in anger as sparks flew from her hands to the blade of her scythe.

"What on earth are you talking about? I did knock. All I ever did was one knock on your door. And you know what happened then? Boom! The door explodes right in my face." Keima retorted levelly.

"Don't you dare lie barefacedly like that, commoner! That protective cantrip was meant to eliminate intruders who would breach the entryway!" Hakua countered hotly, apparently quite taken aback by the commoner's audacity to lie.

"Well then, maybe there was something wrong with your spell," Keima replied with sarcasm, before adding, "For that matter, why're you even enchanting my house like that in the first place! That's a violation of our mortal rights right there!"

"I did that, to prevent this situation from happening. And if you try saying my spellwork's off one more time, I'll soon be shooting fire down your throat and out the other end." she threatened fiercely.

The both of them took a single, deep breath when they realized the clash of masteries wouldn't be going anywhere: Keima wanted to finish cleaning, and Hakua wanted to finish her report promptly before she had to return to Hell. And so, Keima started his job by sweeping. Hakua cleared her throat, picked up her fallen reading glasses, and restarted her recording.

"Just don't interfere with my task."

They each shot the other a look as they went about their duties, and Hakua adjusted her glasses while reactivating the microphone in her hands.

And . . . nothing. Nothing came frustratingly to mind. Whatever report she should have dictated into her device had been apparently washed out within the preceding five minutes. Hakua closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and opened her mouth to speak, but found herself unable to find the right words (and she was indeed concerned, because it was required of district chiefs to have impeccable reports). Sighing inaudibly, Hakua's ears twitched at the scuffling sounds near her as Katsuragi set about his cleaning task.

Hakua looked to her right, her hands poised on her scythe indecisively. Perhaps now would be a good time to find out more about the enigmatic commoner? The clay figures in the pyramid stood frozen in simulated time.

Katsuragi was extremely meticulous, thorough, but also expeditous in the manner of cleaning. Disarranged things were laid to the side with one hand while the other immediately followed up with a sweep of a cloth or broom, even as the first hand swung around to apply moistener. Then it was the task of drying, then arranging, and then shuffling over the dust that had been expertly gathered at the center into a portable bin.

Katsuragi was relentlessly focused on his task, the she-devil found, and no sooner had he finished one side of the room – from ceiling to corner – when he started on the other, casually side-stepping the gigantic pyramid in the room while taking care to sweep in a respectable area around it. The Capturing God was masterful here as he cleaned; as he was in his other (perverted) specialty – Hakua could see that – he was a storm of sanitation, obsessively so.

Katsuragi paused, looking sideways in his labour at the she-devil, and frowned. "What? Have I disturbed you in some way, contract holder? Is there some spot you need cleaning? Your scythe, perhaps . . . ?"

"Such an idiot." Hakua pursed her lips haughtily. "No mortal cleaning agent can ever be enough for my Scythe of Proof." She put a hand to the side of her glasses in a knowing manner. "It requires certain liquids extracted from the lower Realms of Hell, potent enough to incinerate if handled directly; yet just mild enough to add that extra sheen to a weapon . . . " she trailed off, finally realizing what she'd just blabbed. "Well, disregarding that, to answer your question, I was merely curious about another, hitherto unknown part of you commoner. I knew you almost always undertook the cleaning in your household, but I've never actually observed you up close until now."

"And?" Keima turned back to his task of using a scrub to remove a stubborn stain on the wall. If that didn't work, perhaps he'd have to paint over it . . . He wondered how that had got on there, and remembered he hadn't cleaned this room since before the she-devil had come. "Is there some magical, devilish insight that crossed your mind just then? Would I be interested to know about it? Definitely not, but curiosity is an odd bug that keeps me pressing on the Enter key . . . "

"Well, from what you've allowed me to glean from your mortal lifestyle, I would have to say that aside from your dubious hobby that infuriatingly adds the color to your otherwise drab existence, you also have the frustrating capability of surprising other people with a 'talent' (if I may call it that) and that includes your odd cleaning trait. Has it been something your mother has had you do so many times you've acclimated yourself to it?" Hakua asked with more than a little curiosity in her tone, as an attending might ask the newly-admitted patient.

Keima shifted uncomfortably. "I've had this 'talent' for as far back as I can remember. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's something I use, nonetheless."

"But you have such talent with it! It completely clashes with your normal image-"

"Let me stop you right there, she-devil." Keima interrupted briskly, pointing the end of the broom at Hakua. "I have no intention of sharing any more reflections of my inner self to anyone – certainly not to a devil like you. It's as distasteful to me as having to capture a Runaway Spirit in someone like – Heaven and Hell forbid - Nakagawa Kanon. So let me just give you a little tidbit to ease the worries inside that devilish brain of yours: I also have the God-like talent of being able to clean AND play my PFP at the same time, like a juggling act. You'd probably acknowledge my divinity if I showed you. Unfortunately, long ago my mother wasn't quite so amused; and made her wishes known to me quite clearly. (that was also the time she started the record of PFP tossing distances; they still continue to this day) And now everytime it's my turn to clean, I'm effectively not spending my precious minutes playing through a route, which, as you know, is my own personal view of Hell. What am I saying, you'll ask? Nothing, except to point out the obvious of me having a job that I have to do as quickly as possible, without any distractions. In addition: it's uncomfortable, unsettling and downright creepy to even entertain the thought of you observing my every action, but as I have no other recourse other than willingly submit my head to decapitation, I'm forced to be creative." He slammed a stack of linen down in front of him. "Don't go into my room, don't touch my things, don't look in my computer, don't take my PFPs, and definitely don't go into my room – unless I'm there to kick you back out again. I don't care if you're curious about my past with my mother, that odd classmate or Hell, even that weird librarian of Majima High: the point is, don't go touching my things because you devils like cataloguing data on humans, and because even if you did – well, you still wouldn't know me." Keima breathed out loudly, before glaring at Hakua full-force. "And I do NOT want someone else than my mother tampering with my possessions."

Hakua turned on her microphone, "The common- er, the buddy also has the tendency of touching, nay molesting innocent mortals in public; and is also a blubbering coward inside, evidenced by him falling over himself to seek shelter behind the Runaway Spirit Member-" she fired off into it, watching with a twisted delight as the little clay Keima scurried off to cower behind the gloating clay Hakua, incidentally leaving the target unguarded and vulnerable.

Keima had also watched this transpire, and his eyes narrowed in a perverse glint of retribution as he swiped the microphone, "Side Note: Hakua Helmium is an insecure devil, and always has to have another's presence close by to be able to function." He watched with almost the same expression on Hakua's face a minute before as the Keima figure now stood tall and commanding while tucking a frightened Hakua under his arm.

"Katsuragi Keima is a deformed man-creature whose physical appearance is as twisted as his soul-"

"Hakua Helmium enjoys the feel of another's flesh at the tips of her fingers, to placate her low self-esteem – probably owing to her insecurities concerning her breast-size-"

Whack!

Hakua slapped Keima away, grabbing the microphone as he crashed into the side that he'd already arranged and cleaned, and spoke, "Katsuragi Keima is a pervert, a lover of all things perverted, forever and ever and ever to infinity!" she then chucked the microphone out the window.

Keima recovered, glancing furiously around at the mess that had been made, and as he turned to render a bout of harsh words at the she-devil, he stopped, as she had, at the sight that now unfolded from within the pyramid.

"K-k-Kwaaaah! What the Hell have you caused, commoner worm!" She started laying it on him with the butt of her scythe, magical sparks making deep, ashen indentations into his cleaning attire.

"Y-yours was the last- ack! -word so shouldn't- ow! -aren't you the one at fault – GYAOW!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, I don't care, I don't care anymore, you're indecent, perverted-"

Behind them, miniature screams of something akin to what the Capturing God has heard a thousand times before were uttered, in parts pain, pleasure, and outright perversion all around.

Hakua began charging a cantrip, little plumes of fire now dancing on her fingertips as she pointed them indignantly at the commoner.

"Hey! St-stop that, won't you be destroying the house this time! Show restraint! She-devil? She-devil! She-deviiiiiil-"

Keima's desperate cry was drowned out by the sound of a muffled boom, and of the smell of overcooked pork (of all things), as he found himself suddenly staring at the open afternoon sky.

What the-

He felt unsupportive air behind him, and he suddenly felt the unmistakable sensation of falling for a few seconds before he landed with a painful grunt on the house's rooftop. He lay there, stunned with his back lighting up so many pain receptors, before a slight, screeching sound alerted him to Father Gravity starting to drag him sliding down the contour of the rooftop- until finally falling down the side of the house, Dazedly, he looked to his right; and there was that microphone the devil had thrown.

A grumbling, bruised (and battered) Katsuragi returned to Hakua's room, and he held up his hand as she tried to apologize, before sliding a finger across his mouth silently and pointed her to her pyramid device. He then chucked the microphone at her feet, and picked up the broom where it had fallen before.

An embarassed Hakua continued her report as Keima scrubbed off the black soot of magic-refuse that had gotten everywhere the room, including a Keima-sized outline of ash on the ceiling, and on the floor directly below.

Hakua glared at nothing in particular, focused on angrily deleting most of the offending recorded work. She glanced at the magically induced stains and frowned, as if she'd just seen an unsolvable riddle.

"What is that thing, anyway?" Keima muttered, mostly to himself. He turned his gaze just an inch and found them meeting the devil's, before quickly turning back to his work. "It seems to be quite the intuitive device."

"This is just a standard recording device that District Chiefs – like me – and other high ranking Hell workers are given to facilitate our record-writing process." Hakua adjusted her glasses clinically, as she continued with a bit of hesitation. "Of course, there are other . . . variants, but I prefer using this because I can be precise with every aspect of the report."

"You're an obsessive devil, aren't you?" Keima shook his head in disbelief. He ordered the columns of linen by color. "Of course, if you were anything but, I don't think I'd have managed much as a – what do you term it again – buddy."

"I'm quite flattered commoner," Hakua crossed her arms acerbically. "You can start supplicating me now."

"It's purely self-interest, Hakua, nothing more, nothing less. In the end, you are nothing but a figment of the Real, MY Real. As long as you exist in my life, I shall try to resist you, but if I cannot, then I will work to make sure that you don't interfere in my life any more than you should." Keima discovered the existence of cobwebs behind Hakua's headboard, and he scowled inwardly.

"Really now," Hakua said distractedly. She was staring intently at the frozen scene inside the pyramid, making sure that it was indeed the part where she'd been cut off. "You're never going to stop being a shameless-" she turned her head and stopped, looking with surprise at Keima who was now peering quizzically into the device. "Hey, don't you have your work to finish? Didn't you say that you needed to get back to your games? Why are you slacking off?"

"It is true, devil," Keima shrugged his shoulders. "Though at the moment, truthfully, I'm in a bit of a bind concerning one of my games. There's a terrible bug that I've been meaning to crack, and so far . . . " he gestured to his broom. "If you really don't want me learning more about the brilliant, intelligent devil who's too good for this lowly commoner, then say so." He turned away.

"Hold on," she stammered. "I-it's not like I don't want you seeing my genius, but then again, if you are that curious as a lowly human then I suppose I can show you." She touched her glasses in a show of stability. "A-anyway, just don't interfere with my report this time, so I can finish this report on time."

Hakua tapped her microphone and began, and to her surprise, this time, she found that she could articulate the words now. As she continued her verbal dictation, she sneaked glances at a cleaning Capturing God, who discretely watched the scenes unfold from the corner of his eye.

"Hold on," he interjected sometime later. She gave him a scathing glare as she continued to dictate. "It's a serious question. I noticed you," his own memory flashed in his mind, of an imposing sorceress throwing powerful magics at a beast. "-had used all those flashy light-thingies against the monster, and then afterwards," he glanced down at the clay Hakua, who had pulled out the jar-like thingy, just as it was dictated to. "-you used that contraption to suck it in. Is there something to that? Is it necessary to fling all those spells at it before you could . . . capture it?" Mentally, he was thinking of the scenarios he would have to plan later on, such as bringing the target to a secluded place to minimize the chances of that dangerous magic that could fell trees from hitting bystanders.

Hakua turned off the microphone irritably. "For your information, those 'light-thingies' were offensive cantrips, and I used them to shock the spirit enough to bring it to a capturable state. It's standard procedure," she huffed, as if it were the most basic knowledge. "Without those spells, the creature would have been too much for the containment bin to handle." She pushed up her glasses unconsciously, causing Kemia to quirk an eyebrow. "As a general rule, between denizens of Hell, it is the one with a higher rank who has the higher power, which in turn contributes to its power level. To follow then, a being of greater rank cannot be affected by magic from a demon who is of lesser rank. A containment bin's magic allows it to overcome and bind creatures of level 2 and below, and since it had been level 3 when it was released, I had no recourse but to bring out my offensive magics. That's the long and short of it. Any more questions, commoner?"

"Nope, you answered them just as I expected you to answer in your usual fashion, devil." Though a simple, "I needed to weaken it" could have sufficed. He breathed deeply as he stood to collect his cleaning materials. "Now, I'm done with your room, so I shall leave you to finish your report." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed at the stain that was still there. He then nodded ungratefully to Hakua, who just twitched an unamused eyebrow in response, before he exited out the doorway, brushing past the wooden and metal splinters.

All the talk of magic had Keima later on looking on his mother, who was doting unashamedly on Hakua the Islander Girl, with a certain suspicion. It probably was necessary to assume that she'd been addled by magic, possibly from Hakua herself, or from her own superiors. That could be the only explanation for her insistence that the Islander Girl spend the rest of her life in the Katsuragi household, despite the fact that Hakua'd arrived suspiciously.

"Now, now Hakua-chan, that's not the way you chop the vegetables~~"

Hakua looked helplessly at him, but he just smirked and lowered the Virtual PFP back over his eyes.

The magic didn't also account for his mother's indifference to things spontaneously blowing up around Hakua, such was the case for that night's supper. He now had two ceiling Keima outlines in the house, and until they'd be cleaned off, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep well. Curse that devil's malfunctioning incompetence!

Though Hakua would have hit him for that thought.

"Ah, Non-chan, your voice is like heaven's breeze~~" Keima wheezed out as he tucked the PFP with overgrown reluctance into his pocket. He had a pleasant look on his face, owing much more to the virtual heroine that was firmly embedded in his mind than the bath he'd just been in. "If there was an angel that treaded on the virtual realm, it would be you . . . " Suitably refreshed, he headed out.

"K-K-Katsuragi-heir-"

"Uwah!" Keima jumped. He turned to face Hakua, who seemed to have been waiting for him to come out. She had that dumb, simplistic look on her face and she seemed to be holding-

"After-meal de-de-dessert-" she started hesitantly, before Keima easily cut in, "That's definitely not dessert! You don't call a chunk of ash dessert, she-devil!"

"Ah." Hakua looked around and behind her, Turning her head back, she now wore her grim, devilish expression as she shoved some of her dessert into the Capturing God's open mouth.

"D-don't force your failures on me!-" he spat it back out.

"Hey, listen," Hakua stopped him, a no-nonsense expression on her face. "I'll soon be leaving to submit my report, and afterwards, I'm going to have to go and see to my district. What that means, commoner, is that I won't be here for some time. Now I've already prepared my decoy drone to impersonate me, but you will have to ensure it doesn't get too much attention from your mother, or she will detect something's wrong." Seeing Katsuragi walk off without her knowing, she held out her hand and used her raiment to pull him back by the neck.

The God choked, grabbing at his neck, as he was forced to turn back. "I'm being serious here, commoner! Would it help if I told you too much stimuli can force the dummy to explode? I don't want to have to mention the magical effect it could have on your mother, and the house, not to mention the trauma involved . . . "

"To your Hell with those reasons!" Keima hissed. "I will be quite busy, Hakua, so don't expect me to drop all that just for you! I get enough distraction from my games when there's a capture going on!"

"Don't make me force a cantrip on you!-"

"You wouldn't dare-"

"A little obedience cantrip directed on your . . . skin should do the trick-"

"Argh! This is my last warning she-devil-"

Downstairs, Keima's mother heard a distant boom, much like how aircraft engines fired up. She paused in her dishwashing, wondering how that had gotten from her memory. Then she heard the sound of breaking glass, and something like many writing chalks being thrown at the wall. Oh, those were the days.

"Hakua-chan~ I know it's important to let your skills be acknowledged, but don't let Keima demolish the house in the process, okay?~~"

OoOoOoOo

The magical lines connecting the travel hubs all across the realms of Hell criscrossed each other in various multicolored patterns, giving the upper skies something akin to a cheerful, bright lighting decoration, in spite of Hell's current energy conundrum. It was in marked contrast to the churning ruins of the realms below, or the broken skies above. Those appeared to be permanent fixtures, a reminder of the darkest days before.

The re-emerging rationality and technological knowledge of the demons had lent vision to the many towns, government hubs and pleasure centers of Hell. Supported by tame and purified magics, these structures dotted the skies of Hell, right on the levels just above the borderlines, far away yet somehow still near the ravaged lands below. Inside, protected by uncountable spells, the demons enjoyed freedom from the swirling, potent atmosphere that suffused Hell.

As always, Hakua Helmium had returned to Hell with all the speed and promptness that was expected of her. After receiving a note to meet Dokuru Skull in one of the Eastern observatories, she had made her way to the dark, cavernous debriefing chamber and there she'd received much praise for her second successful venture, although there was one who'd voiced concerns about the delay in the capture.

She then waited for her instant-porting sickness to fade, before embarking on one of the travel lines connecting Dokuru's office to their meeting place.

While Hakua watched the landscape of Hell flow unevenly below her, she shook her head to overcome another wave of dizziness. Owing to the energy constraints, the lines had been modified to leech off a bit of energy from the devil who used it, making it somewhat alike to the "taxes" the mortals had come up with. For most, it was an unsettling experience every time they used the travel lines. For the proud Hakua, it was a necessary evil for an important figure as her.

She passed by and waved to many of her fellow members and officers of the Runaway Spirit Squad, each looking harried as they travelled to the many exits to the mortal realm. Some of them made derisive looks at her, to which she shouted her best insult in Hellian. Hakua also passed certain demons who belonged to the Royal families, to whom she bowed formally.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Hakua emerged onto one of the Eastern observatories of Hell where Dokuru wanted to meet her. Observatories such as these were essentially like the public parks of the mortal world, but substituting the expanses of green and a view of water with a transparent dome up and below, for better viewing of the landscapes of Old Hell. In effect, observatories had become the gathering place for older, emaciated demons, whose twisted forms could still contemplate the horrors of Hellfire, or for fresh demon-students in academies here for their practical studies of Old Hell. Hakua passed a few of them on the metallic steps that led out to one of the viewing domes, where she'd spotted Dokuru waving cordially at her.

As she made her way up, she chanced a glance at the floor, where she saw, far, far below, a great portion of the landscape below torn up by renegade energies, forming a pyramidal formation of broken rocks and ruins. A miasma of energy swirled around and through them, forming volatile lines that all converged on one spot at the tip, a vortex of torrential energies, where it then formed a hazy beam of wavering energy that extended up and beyond even the height levels of the observatory. She followed the repulsive energies up where they reached the brooding skies above, and she frowned at the sudden flashes of light in the sky that only boded ill for the rest of Hell's inhabitants.

She stumbled on a step, but recovered gracefully, as the observatory shook around her. Hakua steadied herself on a nearby banister, and she almost smiled when she looked around to see her superior fallen to the ground in a comical manner, before frowning back down at the nexus of energies.

The she-devil remembered why this was one of the observatories she disliked: it was dangerously close to the Vora Rift, one of the magical disasters left behind from the war. Though she knew that the observatory had been put there for the express purpose of beholding one of the remnants in the aftermath of the Overthrow, it still didn't change the fact that those vigorous energies threatened and could one day destroy this observatory. Even as a devil, Hakua shivered at that.

"I greet you well, Hakua." She bowed respectfully in turn. "I apologize for calling you out all the way here, but as I had business here, and I had to give you a message at the same time, I had no choice. I hope I did not inconvenience you." Dokuru said apologetically.

"No sir, it's perfectly fine for me." she hastily assured her superior.

"Good. Well then, shall I ask you how your debriefing went?" Dokuru turned his gaze away from her to look out the balcony. They both watched threads of baleful light swirl outside as she recounted all her superiors had asked of her, and of Hakua's own views on the matter.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" he said after she concluded.

"Excuse me, sir?" She stared doubtfully at where Dokuru was looking.

"No, I was referring to the continued progress in your assigned project, District Chief Hakua." Dokuru chuckled, looking back at her. "You are in excellent form, and I'm sure many of us will be proud of the possibilities you will give our scientists and the rest of Hell itself."

"Ah, b-but- thank you sir- I mean-" the normally prim devil spluttered ungracefully, before coughing and continuing, an obvious redness in her cheeks. "I thank you for that, sir. I shall not fail."

"Indeed you shall not." Dokuru raised an invisible eyebrow. "Indeed you must not, as Lord Kai Sollarqeu said. I cannot stress the importance of this project enough, dear. As of this moment, there are only a few parallel projects with the same aim as yours, but yours has been the only method with the best results. Yes, you really are that lucky to have showed so much promise now." he laughed, causing Hakua to look down at her scythe in embarrassment. "You may just bring about a new age, as controversial as using love to acquire energy can be. There's not just one promotion for you, dear. You might just start your own Royal family at this rate!"

Hakua flinched while she blushed, knowing full well that the continued success and glowing praises would only continue should the commoner still be on his streak. If he failed, then she'd fall right there beside him, and she knew a few naysayers from the academy who'd love to target her then, not to mention the scorn and disappointment the rest of Hell might view her with as a result. Still, to realize that her own career path was dictated by the whims of one caustic, obsessive and sometime uncooperative mortal was almost unbelieveable.

"Ah, but there was something I called you all the way here for, right?" Dokuru scratched his skull, while she tilted her head doubtfully. "I have just received a message from a colleague of mine. Of course, it concerns you because he is none other than your old teacher, Lord Kiseth."

Hakua's eyes widened. Sensei? "Well, he normally contacts me, whenever he goes on his eccentric trips," she shared a look of exasperation with Dokuru, "but this time, he has specifically asked for you. Mostly, he is concerned about your progress, in his role as your old teacher; but he also seems to be cautioning you against standing out too much in the mortal realm."

She was blushing, reminiscing on her many storied memories with her old instructor, before she stirred at Dokuru's last statement. "What did Lord Kiseth mean by that?"

"Well obviously, he doesn't want his star student gaining the unwanted attention of Heaven." This elicited another blush from the she-devil. "It could also mean that he has reason to suspect something afoot, it could be that there are rogue elements of Hell running around in the mortal realm; and as you are becoming a promising member of the Runaway Squad, you may end up getting entangled with them."

Hakua tilted her head quizzically. Normally, she'd be giddy from hearing some word from her favorite and much idolized teacher, but Dokuru's words had set her thinking again. Could Sensei have sensed something more thatn that?

"Unfortunately," Dokuru seemed to have caught the next question that was forming in her mind. "Lord Kiseth has once again embarked on one of his expeditions, this time to the regions right below this spot. It seems that he wants to survey the old domains that belonged to . . . well, you know. Anyway, he will be obviously unreachable, so I will apologize to you on his behalf."

"N-no, I understand, sir. I know Lord Kiseth too well." she smiled thinly. Aside from being one of her principal instructors, responsible for much of her spell repertoire, Lord Kiseth had been a good mentor; but she'd also known him to be an archaelogical fanatic, keen on going on dangerous expeditions to the surface. Once, he had invited Hakua and her classmates to traverse the Titan Boneyards in the ash wastes, but the academy had caught wind and had stopped the potentially dangerous trip from happening. That was another thing she'd admired her teacher for, how he so nonchalantly but eagerly descended into the nether regions of Hell and would return, unscathed, but carrying some rich trophy of an artifact or updates on the situation of the lower surface. This earned him some repute in Hell. In fact, Hakua reflected, she did not know one devil who didn't like Lord Kismeth.

"I also echo his concerns, District Chief Hakua." Dokuru's words dragged her back to the present. "While any threat from Heaven might seem farfetched, there might also be some from Hell, maybe even their mortal agents, who might interfere with your work on the Runaway Spirits. Keep your wits about you, and keep the Vigilant Eye about." Dokuru then smiled, in the only way he could.

Just then, a beep from Dokuru's belt resounded in the normally subdued observatory space. It was followed by a beep from Hakua's skull ornament, and was echoed all around the chamber. Hakua looked around to see another Runaway Squad member, who was looking at her own beeping skull ornament in surprise.

"Well now, this is a surprise." Dokuru looked around, beckoning all the members of the Runaway Spirit Squad in the observatory to him. Hakua and the rest of the demons in there raised their eyebrows at the sudden and yet unknown development. "I bid you well, everyone," Dokuru greeted the other members, who each greeted him and Hakua with the same. "It seems that the Great Sensors have detected something of important magnitude. I shall need to get there immediately to know the cause. Since it might concern any one of your areas, I shall have to order you to include yourself in my spell."

There were nods all around as Dokuru looked up and around the gathered, after which he nodded, and began chanting the ancient, long-winded cantrip that carried with it the powerful ability of mass-teleportation. A set of runes were conjured all around thoe gathered members, after which a mist of white energy suffused their forms with a lukewarm feeling. Two identical magic circles, their identifying runes mirroring each other appeared with one below the feets and the other above the heads. There was a flash of white, and Hakua was again subject to the gut-wrenching torment of instant-porting.

"Whew, I haven't cast that big a spell since . . . " Dokuru wheezed behind them as Hakua adjusted her disoriented view of their new surroundings. A resounding beep called out from the machines in front of them as operator demons scrambled for the assembly that had just ported in.

"Section Chief Dokuru, sir! The sensors just detected something huge! Well, it's not huge, technically-"

"Don't confuse the chief!-"

"Sir! You have a message from the chairdevil! Lord DelMonte Domi is on the line-"

All around her came the sounds of more teleportations, some mass, and some single; while others stumbled in from the lines in a daze. Of course, an alert of such magnitude should have alerted all Runaway Spirit squad personnel that were still on Hell.

"Now, now, if you'd all just calm down-" Dokuru weaved his way through the mass of legs that had now gathered all around the communications room, and he reached the technicians after much difficulty. Hakua followed her superior imperceptibly.

"Here we are . . . ooh now this is a special case." Dokuru muttered just loud enough for some of those nearby to hear.

"What's going on? Is there a level 5 someone let loose?" Hakua glared at the impudent wretch who'd opened her mouth at such an important moment.

"Yes," a lot of devils sucked in their breath, "-and no." They all relaxed, with some now looking on doubtfully as their section chief chuckled. "Quite an interesting case for our scientists, if we showed it to them.

"Everyone!" Dokuru said in a loud, commanding voice, a sharp contrast to his diminutive form. He stood on a platform that floated lazily above them all. Uncharecteristically, Hakua shivered without knowing the reason. "According to the data gathered from the Great Sensors, there appears to be a new, and unique Runaway Spirit that has emerged. It is not so powerful as to require our specialists," he nodded to a few of them in the crowd. "but as always it is not something for us to ignore. You see, according to this, it looks like even in its subdued state, it is still able to send out powerful, mind-affecting energies through its host to the rest of the human populace. The stream of negative energy has caused our Sensors to detect the anomaly beforehand, and it has lead us to this particular situation.

"Now, as you all know, a Spirit who has the ability to do just this even at its own level is something quite troubling and dangerous. That is why it might just be a Level 5 after all; we cannot tell quite yet. Thus I shall commission a few of you to act as backup here in Hell in case such a thing does occur." Dokuru's eyes glinted with a reprimanding fire. "A level five is leagues above any spirit you have encountered before. Do not trifle with it."

They all nodded, each knowing the magnitude of such a claim. Many years of specialist training for most of them in the academy had taught them much Runaway Spirit lore, and a level five (if the spirit in question was) was said to be equal to that of a Greater Demon of legend. Hakua clenched her fist in determination, in the slim chance that it was under her district, she would spare no expense in helping out the others as they would wrestle the Spirit down.

"Sir, the techs have triangulated the source of the anomaly!" A demon called out from behind his terminal screen. More than a few devils looked up in apprehension at the gigantic screen behind Dokuru. A map of the human world in 3D was displayed, and digital arrows were steadily pointing at the exact spot. Hakua's eyes widened. They all seemed to be located in the Far Eastern sector.

"That's good . . . now narrow it down some more . . . " Dokuru stole a glance at Hakua and the gathered multitudes.

"There, sir! We've confirmed with all the other Sensors! It's definitely around that area!"

"Very well, now to dispatch the devil in charge of it . . . the district chief is," Dokuru looked down swiftly at Hakua, who had opened her mouth in shock. "Hakua, this seems to be yours. It's in the vicinity of Majima." All eyes followed Dokuru's gaze to gather at the thunderstruck devil, who had now let her scythe fall to the ground in a clatter.

"Hakua, this is another chance for you," Dokuru called out. "Please confirm the identity of the host."

"Y-yes," Hakua breathed in, picking up her weapon. "I shall be going then, I bid you all well." Trembling faintly, Hakua kept her gaze before her as she hastily began her own instant-teleportation spell. The others stepped back to give her some space.

"I bid you well, Hakua. Do not fail Hell. " Dokuru commanded gently. A nod, then a white flash, a sound of grinding static, and the District Chief was then gone from their midst. Dokuru looked around at the remaining multitude. "You all have your jobs to do, too. I bid you all well."

OoOoOoOo

"See ya later, Keima-kun," Keima bobbed his head in delight as he watched his dear Yokkyun leave. Cartoon Keima then jumped up, making a fist in the air, while laughing goofily.

Keima jumped around, doing cartwheels that would have been normally impossible for one such as he. Yet jump around he did, even scaling his promised tree with Yokkyun several times in love-struck glee. "Gyahahaha!"

On his seventh climbing attempt, he felt the earth shift below him, and he fell, unsupported. He gave a squawk, looking at his hands that had returned to normal.

"Ah, another dream!" Damn it, why did it have to end too soon! Keima grouched.

Once again, the mists drew around him, obscuring his view, except for the single, crooked tower that loomed before him. He instinctively disliked the shrouded edifice, though he did not know why.

"I greet you well, mortal."

Well, maybe it was that, Keima supposed, as he turned to face the voice. The figure was far away, as shrouded as the tower was, yet he could hear its voice quite clearly as if it was just near him.

"Um, hello there dreaded dream killjoy. Why can I never have a dream without being sent to this foggy place?"

"As to that, even I have no idea." He could swear the figure was tilting its head. "Perhaps it has something to do with your inner desires?"

"What do my inner desires have to do with anything?"

"Why, dear boy! They form part and parcel of what you are! No mortal can ever deny this part that belongs rightfully to them! Without one's desires, you are nothing. In fact, your whole life has been about fulfilling your own-"

"You're going off the tangent here."

"You're right. I get that sometimes, I don't even-" the figure giggled. He still didn't know whether to be charmed if it was a girl, or creeped out if it was a guy. It was allb so ambiguous. "Well, you may trust me to tell you, Mortal, that I have no more idea of what I'm doing here meeting you than you do. But this place is filthy, can't you see it?"

Keima looked around. "With all this fog, I'm not sure if I can agree to that statement. If it is filthy, as you said, I agree that something should be done, but again, I don't see anything but the fog in front of my eyes."

"A shame. I would have greatly enjoyed it if- wait, you seem to have a visitor, mortal. Your dream is, sadly, ending. I dwell on the chance that I can meet you again." The figure faded. Keima stared doubtfully at the spot, before turning his eyes to the desolate structure in the distance.

Like a lighthouse, a light emerged from the top, and as it swept around, Keima caught the bare image of a gleeful smile, before the light assaulted his sense, and he felt himself being slapped, unceremoniously, awake.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Commoner! Wake up, you lazy bum!"

Vivian's note: in fact just go ahead and review