"Whilst the greater number of our nocturnal visions are perhaps no more than faint and fantastic reflections of our waking experiences—Freud to the contrary with his puerile symbolism—there are still a certain remainder whose immundane and ethereal character permits of no ordinary interpretation, and whose vaguely exciting and disquieting effect suggests possible minute glimpses into a sphere of mental existence no less important than physical life, yet separated from that life by an all but impassable barrier." – (Beyond the Wall of Sleep, H.P. Lovecraft)

Chapter Two: The Bridge Between Gaps…

The faint glow of the sun slowly covered the adjoining stairway, and it felt like I was in the turret of an unending castle. My eyes must have grown tired because, when I blinked, her crimson hair grew brighter, blindingly so. I tried to focus, but the strain of something unknown tore apart my thoughts, making it feel like I was dragging sandpaper over my irises. I closed them and opened them again, but the image of my beautiful classmate remained steadfast, painfully glaring, and blurred.

A small panic sparked, and I shifted backwards, but she put out a tender hand and stilled me. It was only when the image shifted and I heard the intricate melody of her soft, gentle voice that, notwithstanding my physique, I suddenly grasped that my strength was completely gone. "That's it… rest. You're going to be just fine."

The figure stepped forward, her arms outstretched around my neck as the sweet, scented fragrance of strawberry jam swept the inside of my nose and her white long-sleeved, button-down uniform rose higher. I sagged a little, and my head cushioned against the soft, fluffy padding of her ample, elastic breasts. God, they were soft.

Infinitely far; yet now, suddenly near. I was tenderly held in a warm, loving embrace.

Maybe it was the lingering high of the drugs; or possibly, too, the soft, affectionate sensation of a woman; or perhaps the emotional drain thanks to my prior late outings; but my eyes forced themselves closed as my consciousness slowly faded into that of a deep, relaxing slumber, and the darkness encroached itself upon me…

Thus, on my first day of school, ever, I slept in the arms of a woman, on some random stairs…

Perfect going, nibble-stick…

It was silent, even too quiet. The dark air surrounding me was a never-ending, boundless void. I couldn't see, taste, or even feel my surroundings.

Slowly, the pitch-black darkness began to disperse, and it took a moment for me to realize that something was not specifically right about this.

Black fog.

I couldn't see my body, yet I instantly tasted the sharp tang of smoke in those glands at the front of my throat, and when I took another breath, I choked and my eyes began to tear. I tried to swing myself around and away from the aroma, however I was but a speck of conscious in the void, a prisoner. I panicked, and time seemed to slow, and what I saw overhead almost dumped me anyway.

Hell.

It was a sea of all-encompassing fire with an inverted layer of smoke below the flames at a height of well-over four hundred feet above, arching down with what seemed to be forty-mile-an-hour-gale-force winds. I'd never seen anything quite like it, and I surged with both panic and awe. It was an endless inferno; it was as if the immediate world was like some giant coliseum suddenly on fire.

I'd read that some great fires—typically wildfires—have been clocked at over six miles an hour, able to bridge gaps and jump rivers and fire blocks; this one seemed alive and was steamrolling, transforming from a crown fire to a whirl. The vortex of flame, preceded by the poisonous gases, superheated air, and reflected heat, would be on me in less than two minutes—well before that, it would cook my lungs.

Even if this was just my consciousness, I wasn't taking anything for granted.

I smelled the bitterness of the many flames; it pricked my nostrils so acutely I was certain they'd bleed. But the smell of burning was only the beginning. My eyes continued to profusely tear, blindingly. I tried looking away from the surrounding destruction and attempted to clear the blistering heat from my face and the wild thoughts that swept through my mind like a swarm of angry birds.

I screamed and tried shutting my eyes, but I had no eyelids to close, and nothing escaped my lips as the searing flames encompassed me whole…

And then, there was darkness. Everything was silent.

"Bachgen, thou hearken mín nigh-almighty grandeur…?"

Suddenly, a deep voice shook the ceaseless void. A deep growl, like something belonging to an ancient being, the Great One; the thing mankind secretly fears. The overwhelming noise was like that of a hurling lightning bolt coming down from a great tempest, the heavens. If I had teeth, presently, they'd be trembling into dust.

I peered into the darkness, and said nothing. Even if I could remember the most basic words of greeting, my tongue would not have spoken them. My mouth remained shut as I wildly glimpsed into the ceaseless dimness for whatever spoke out to me.

And then, light.

"Then make haste, cohort, and heed my call!"

It came from Him: from the pair of bright crimson eyes, who now, with keen notice, subjugated my lone, solitary field of view. A fitful stream of molten magma, like the earth's deep heated core: red, hot, and destructive. For some time now, I'd speculated just who, even what, He was.

Yet, the skill to picture this eminence was beyond me, so I'd never tried.

"Look upon me, Bachgen (Boy)! Good, good!"

He stared at me, like a cat eyeing it's prey, and he was beaming.

His big fiery eyes complemented his speech; the vocals were powerful enough to damage my eardrums. His head was lengthy and massive; the skull was extremely wide at the rear but had a narrow snout, perhaps allowing for binocular vision. Above, wisps of smoke exited his large nostrils, and the tip of his upper jaw was U-shaped and curved all the way to his ears, where two massive black horns projected downwards.

The protruding teeth displayed marked heterodonty, similar to that of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. The array of teeth at the front of the upper jaw were closely packed, D-shaped in cross section, and had strengthening ridges on the rear surface, where the tips were reinforced as chisel-like blades and curved backwards. The remaining teeth were robust, like oversized bananas rather than daggers, and more widely spaced.

The long neck was covered in crimson jagged scales and formed a natural S-shaped curve, but was far more muscular to support the massive beast of that cranium.

His forelimbs and arms were huge, scarred, and brawny, sporting several large, sharp claws that practically reminded me of medieval spears. Below his packed under-parts, two hind limbs floated midair alongside a long and heavy coiled tail; both thick and hardened like two tree trunks. However, my eyes never left his massively spread wings, which were akin to those of an incalculable bat.

It was then, in equal shock and horror, that I realized just what this creature… no… this being was…

"You seem unsettled!"

Despite being nothing more than a soul, alone amongst this dark vacuum, I could still feel myself shake alongside the tremors caused by his devastating laughter.

It was a dragon, a goddamn dragon.

"The incantation has finally been broken, thus we may now suitably converse."

Incantation? The thought dissipated as soon as it came, whenever his rooted eyes, seeking me in the darkness, flashed with a kind of overpowering fascination. I was closer to him than I thought, and he seemed to move towards me like a great ocean yacht approaching a tiny, small town marina.

I'd give anything to escape this present nightmare and return to the real world, perhaps even cradle tight that beautiful girl from earlier.

"Would you now?" said the dragon apparently curious, as if he were reading my thoughts, though his tone remained mysterious and frightful to me. Yet, oddly enough, I slowly began feel my strained heart relax, and I was starting to come to a strange sense that, perhaps, I had nothing to genuinely fear from this immaculate being.

Call it a gut feeling.

"You're beginning to lighten up," the dragon continued smiling away with those gargantuan swords, "good." His incredible wings drooped back to his sides and the dragon leaned his long neck forward, bringing his massive expression only a few feet from mine. "Long awaited introductions are in order, friend. Don't be afraid. Speak."

If I could somehow muster the strength or will to talk with this great being, I would've, but my mouth remained sealed shut like the entranceway to Fort Knox.

Seeing my pitiful state, the dragon really did laugh. "My apologies. So much is happening to you today. You have a great many sorrows burning in your heart, and you'll have more sorrows with someone very close to you in the not so distant future."

Despite my own condition and the setting, I thought of my adopted parents, Doctor Sakura, and my mysterious, beautiful classmates from only moments ago…

She called me a wielder of a… Boosted Gear…

If anything, what could it all mean?

Suddenly, my voice decided to introduce itself. "I-Is this for real…?" I stuttered.

I stuttered my words in front of a dragon.

He showed off an array of brilliant teeth again. "Undoubtedly. We presently dwell within the confines of your very soul, or should I say, our soul." His voice resounded in his great chest. "Tell me, Bachgen (Boy), what is the current year?"

I had to think—2017.

"What month is it now?"

I wasn't a fan of that. "August."

"Hmm…" He grunted. "Day of the week?"

"It's Monday, early Monday morning."

"I see…" Despite floating alongside me in the void, he shuffled his enormous feet. "So it's been forty-eight years now."

I continued to look up at the giant. "…I don't want to come off as pushy, Mr. Dragon, but do you mind explaining to me just what's happening…?"

He nodded and then glanced at the darkness to our left. "Maybe that would've been better." His massive head turned back to me; his crimson eyes came back to mine. "You don't miss much, do you, Bachgen (Boy)?"

I smiled. "…Nope." I was starting to like him, as much as you can like a giant, mystical fire-breathing lizard that's accompanied you in the midst of your dreams. "So spill the beans."

He stood there looking down at me, and I was sure that even if I could've made out more of his face, I still wouldn't have been able to make out his expression. It was hard not to try, though. His mammoth scaled chest rose and fell, but he said nothing more.

Without warning, the great, many flames I'd succumbed to earlier reignited ubiquitously, again encasing us both in a world of fire. He laughed again, softer this time. "Indeed I shall! But before that, endure to resume mounting your astonishing strength, and we will both meet once again, Partner!"

The fire blinded me. "Wait!" Just before the dream concluded, I shouted at the top of my lungs, hoping he would hear. "I'll definitely be back, you understand?!"

A goddamned dragon…

Definitely a noise.

I'd been lying deep in sleep when I thought I'd heard something. This was different to the deep voice, the dragon, which I had been just introduced to—a snuffling, huffing noise that I could hear all around me.

The dream was so real it left me shaken and unsure of which world I was in. I shrugged off the covers to a bed; I pushed my hair out from eyes and sat up. I'd just returned from a restless, vision-haunted sleep, so I blinked to make sure I'd seen what I'd seen, and I had.

I was on fire, or more appropriately, I had been. I stared down, equally bewildered and distressed, at the faint trickles of painless sun-colored flame, accompanied by flickering currents of mauve electricity, which ran up my arms, my hands, and invaded my blood, veins, and flesh; slowly dying out as the time passed.

"What the fuck…" I unknowingly gasped, struggling to pace my breathing. By the time my uncanny flashes had gone away I was already so freaked out and high on adrenaline that thought I would probably pass out all over again.

Must have be the aftereffect of that joint, rolled THC.

The bed I'd been sleeping in was dark and burnt, charbroiled to hell, but it didn't smell or seem to smoke. God, I must be seeing things. Oh, God.

I reached out and dragged back the grey curtain that hid my view, revealing a lonesome, sterile room, what I could only guess to be the school infirmary. Despite the many ongoing abnormalities, the dragon's words echoed in my head. Incantation. Like a spell? Was something keeping me from speaking to him? Was it a confession? An indictment? Why did he allude to us sharing a soul?

I discovered my briefcase by the bed and searched around its contents for the mobile phone Mrs. Hyoudou had gifted me right before this first day of school. I fumbled around with the screen passcode, again questioning my age, and discovered the time: 2:07.

Outside the window, I could see storm clouds far out in the distance. I struggled to shove my phone away and slowly forced myself up.

I stumbled a little as I pushed myself past the infirmary exit, needing to escape this place. Once again, I was just another wondering soul of self-pity.

I didn't make it very far, but I made it outside and, with the number of hallways and stairwells I had to use, that was a miracle in itself. I walked through an exit doorway and onto the Kuoh Private Academy campus. It was summer, even though it was technically already fall, and all the evening first years and upperclassmen were scrambling to their final classes of the day. They looked as asleep as I felt.

I wondered how lousy I looked, but eventually decided to not care.

There were a few roach-coaches across the street, past campus, and I figured I could get one of those bottled coffees from one of the food carts without contracting dysentery. As I stood in line, I noticed people looking at me, and I figured I'd strangle the first one that made a smart comment. I stepped up to the counter and asked for the yellow can, which cost me a couple yen.

"Here ya go, Whitey."

I let him live.

I wandered back across and sat on one of the low cement walls that had flowering shrubs planted behind them. My back felt funny and my shoulders ached; surprisingly little damage for a guy who was just on fire, ostensibly. Despite the ominous clouds off in the distance, it was a gorgeous day, and the cherry blossoms were exploding in a riot of effusive color. I pulled in a deep breath. Despite the tumultuous day (that's me being sarcastic), something still particularly bothered me.

I cracked open the can to try and get in a quick sip when someone moved my school bag and sat on the wall besides me.

She was beautiful and reminded me of someone, yet I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Her long dark hair was sleek like one of those models' you'd see in the Olay ads; she had particularly vivid, nebula violet eyes; and noticeably sensual curves, outlined by a light brown uniform and flannel skirt. She carried her own distinctive school bag.

She smiled and pointed to the can in my hand. "Is that coffee?" Her voice was soft and cheery, matching her relaxed, cute appearance.

I looked at the cup. "I'm just waiting for it to cool."

"Cold canned coffee, really?" She reached out a snowy hand, reminding me of my mysterious crimson haired classmate. "Here, I'll show you what to do with that." Curious, I handed her the drink, and she poured it out on the sidewalk. A random classmate, lugging a stack of books, was walking past and gave her a dirty look.

"That was my coffee."

"No, this is your coffee." She handed me another colorful can from one of the bags, and I held it with both hands. She opened her own and took a sip. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." I tired not to fall for her eyes; woman could be fickle. "I'm Issei."

"Yuuma." She crossed her legs at the ankle, putting her white socks in full view. "Yuuma Amano." I was starting to think this girl was more than just a fellow student.

I opened my coffee and looked at the decisively dark brew. "This looks strong."

"Espresso, double-shot. I thought you could use it." She looked at me. "You were kinda giving of the energy of… I don't know, a sick puppy!" Her giggle was sweet.

I took a sip. "So you just took pity on some random guy?"

"A random, saddened, cute guy." She winked and my heart leapt. "Big difference."

I could feel my face heat up and tried not to directly look at her, putting on my big boy voice. "Thanks…"

Her ruby lips drew back into a mischievous little smile. "You're very welcome. Oh, if you're hungry too." She dug into the bag and handed a collection of biscuits and a tiny paper napkin. "Biscotti. I always keep it around for emergencies."

"Oh, cool. Thanks."

She chewed on one herself, and I watched as she unconsciously began swinging her intertwined soft legs. "Almond, my favorite." The biscuits were good, and the only sound for a while was the munching of our communal breakfast. I noticed she was looking at me again, so I smiled as best I could. I was still struggling to comprehend why or how such a beauty would find any interest in me. "What year are you?"

"Second," I bit into another cookie, "you?"

She munched some more. "Same." She glanced over my uniform. "Different school, though. I'm not smart enough to get into the Kuoh Private Academy, but I do love the food stands stationed outside your campus. That's why I drop by every-so-often."

"Is it really that special?"

She watched me for a long while. I took another breath and looked above the collection of food carts to the clear blue sky. I could feel the thumping in my chest as the temptation to turn and count the floors of the main building up to five tugged at my jaw. A few fat sparrows ambled over from across the street and positioned themselves in front of us. I broke off a little cookie and tossed it their way. They grabbed the pieces and looked at me for some more, giving up on Yuuma as a native.

"You don't think so?"

I nodded. "Well, it's only been one day. One weird day, I might add."

She didn't say anything for a while. "Everyone has those."

I looked at her, pouting like a child. "How do you know?"

She ignored my ridiculous question, smiled, and looked back into the bag. "I got another pack of these cookies, if you'd like them."

I had been about to apologize, but took another deep breath instead; the darkness was there as we made small talk. I had the most outrageous number of uncanny experiences today, and now I sat here with a pretty girl having small talk. Ridiculous. "Sure, thanks."

"You're very welcome."

I tossed the sparrows more of the cookie. "I'm not very particular when it comes to food."

She smiled. "That so?" She sipped her coffee and watched as I continued to feed the birds. "I may have to toughen you up a bit this semester, then."

I blinked. "Is that…?"

She turned, beaming. "A date," she reached into the bag for something, "probably."

The sparrows were now standing on the wide part of my school shoes, happily taking the crumbs from my fingers. I, meanwhile, remained speechless.

"What's your number, Issei?" She handed me a phone decorated in pink glamour with one hand and took a sip from the coffee with another, and her violet eyes stayed happy. "You got plans this afternoon?"

The darkness that was with me begin to dissipate elsewhere, someplace which I did not care, and a faint glimmer of excitement begin to unfolding like a crisp linen tablecloth, snapping across the expanse of a long table and floating down to cover everything.

Dragon? Catching on fire? Had to have been the lingering side affects of that nasty joint that bald asshole gave me. This, this is what mattered.

I took the phone and handed the remainder of the biscotti to the birds, trying hard not to get to giddy with delight. "Not at the moment, not really."

I didn't attend even a single class that day.

An hour or so passed, the skies were looking more threatening, and I wasn't sure if it was thunder I was hearing in the distance or the train on the bridge. I eventually made it home, but there was no car in the driveway. I turned and walked to the door, reached above the mailbox, and pulled down a note with the key. Mr. Hyoudou quickly learned I wasn't so good with doors after the bathroom incident, so he had the key filed so that it would now operate smoothly in the lock. I opened the door and stepped inside.

I dropped off my bag and shoes in the entry hallway and walked into the kitchen. I was hungry and there was a random restaurant menu by the toaster, which gave me the luxury of narrowing down my choices. I opened the fridge and there was a six-pack of Yebisu, so I popped a can open and drank it while I went upstairs to the bathroom. Mr. Hyoudou would give me some crap later for drinking that beer, but I was okay with that. I took a shower and got some clean clothes from my duffle, which I kept in the closet. Most of the stuff Mrs. Hyoudou had bought me was too small anyways.

The clock downstairs told me I still had three hours before they would be back, so I got the pad from beside the phone and read the numerous and assorted messages from practically everybody in the neighborhood.

There were no messages from Doctor Sakura.

I shuttled the resurging, hurt thoughts toward the back of my mind and placed the notebook on the coffee table. I had been here a full week and hadn't called her once, just as promised. I suppose I had been waiting for my feelings to move on, yet now maybe was the time to do so. I should call.

I looked at the phone but just didn't have the energy. I took a deep breath, lay back against the pillows on the sofa, and closed my eyes. After what seemed like a long time, I was finally about to go to sleep…

Then, the phone rang, and I lifted my eyelids to stare over at the ticking arms of the living room clock that told me that I'd been sitting there for about half-an-hour. I heard Mr. Hyoudou's recorded voice on the answering machine and heard the beep. "Hi, honey, me and dad are going to be out late tonight. I just wanted to check in and tell you that there's plenty of food in the fridge you can warm up for dinner." She sounded tired. "Please call me when you're available. I love you, kiddo!" I was about to reach for the phone when the line went dead.

I sighed and went upstairs to the terrace doors and listened to the sporadic drops hit the roof. It was a gentle rainfall that unfocused the edges of the town night, making all the surfaces glisten. I watched the drops fall slowly past the white of the streetlights and into the widening pools on our grass. I looked up, in the distance, at the span of the bridge connecting the train yard to Kyoto and listened to the steady thrum of the late night traffic…

I wasn't quite feeling the affects of the alcohol yet, so I went downstairs for another beer. The lights were off, but I didn't remember turning them on to begin with.

That's when I heard something—a creaky, discomforting sound that reminded me of an old wooden armchair. Right before entering the kitchen, I thought I saw movement from somewhere in the darkness of the living room. I had just about convinced myself that it was nothing when a hint of movement came into my view.

That's when I began to feel my heart in my mouth.

Even in the pitch black he was pretty easy to spot; it was the smirk. Tall and thin, grey dress shirt and a long black raincoat. He had long dark hair underneath a brown fedora, classic Waspish good looks, and all I could think of was the frightening feeling I experienced when encountering my classmate in the morning.

I blinked and said "yo", and he actually nodded to me.

"Yo." He kept coming toward me. I was looking a little closer now, but it was only when I noticed the dried blood stained on his gloves that I really began to panic.

"What the fuck! Who the hell are you!? How did you get in here!?" I raised my voice, but he caught me with a hand to the shoulder, which propelled me to the far wall. I hit the drywall hard enough to make a dent in it, but quickly pulled myself up, thanking the Lord that my back muscles took most of the brunt force.

He was strong, enough so even to throw me with little-to-no-effort. He didn't move, but his eyes flicked around the contained space. I moved about two more feet back.

"You know what I am?"

"If that's your classification of a formality, then you're kidding yourself." I had the sneaking suspicion he wasn't buying time, and I looked around my kitchen again, thinking that somebody should be coming to my rescue by now, but knew that was a fleeting sentiment. What I needed now was a weapon.

"Such cowardice," he snarled, "you've forgotten your place."

"Bad conversation." I hadn't the faintest clue to what he was babbling on about, so I ignored his words and focused on the immediate danger; stick and stones are what inevitably break your bones. I inclined my head a little and brought up my arms, keeping my left fist vertically about six inches from face and my right fist besides the chin.

I suppose he thought I was going to hit him, but I was wrong; he threw a quick punch into my shoulder. I'm sure I looked surprised as my backside was pushed into the utensils drawer. I've been punched numerous times, sometimes on purpose and sometimes not, but that jab especially hurt. I tried not to wince, but my shoulder felt sore like someone had slugged it with a baseball bat.

"You little, impudent annoyance!" He wasn't giving up on the physical force, swiftly grappling me by the throat and forcing my head against the back of the metal sink.

My head made an awful noise from the collision, and I could feel wetness drip onto my face, and figured it was either water or my own blood. His grip felt like a constrictor squeezing its prey, and I grabbed his arm with both of my hands, struggling to pry him off as my vision began to blur, and I gasped for air. All those workouts at the hospital, years of training, and I couldn't even budge the guy.

"I can't abide attention to such trivial, lower class beings." I couldn't tell if it was just my dissipating conscious playing tricks on me, but there were dark feathers falling all around us. Deep dark feathers from a giant pair of raven-like wings spouted from his back, extending over me like a great, ominous thundercloud. "Perhaps this will jog your memory."

Suddenly, there was light.

A flicker of bright electricity manifested in his unoccupied hand, a jagged streak of hot, angry energy that reminded me of lightning. The weapon crackled and forked until forming a complete shape, a javelin. "Don't move." Some of the smirk came back. "This'll only hurt a lot." He spoke as he brought the flaming, sizzling weapon towards my forehead.

I scrambled to escape his grip, but it felt like trying to move literal steel; his strength was just too much. "Get off!" I was yelling as loudly as my lungs could support in hopes that someone would hear the racket and call for the police.

I howled for a moment and continued my doomed struggle until I finally began to feel the grip around my throat lessen and the pain in my head slowly become obsolete.

"What'chu doin', partner?"

I stared in disbelief as seeps of electricity began to discharge from my hands and arms, slowly becoming a mixture of reddish, rugged flames. The intruder's strength I had feared now seemed to dissipate, and I looked right at him with an ugly sneer.

"What the…" His eyes widened and I could see my very own reflect in his irises. My eyes were red, crimson like my classmate at school. The bastard was probably used to having his way, but he was in a different league now. An ugly rage boiled within me.

I grabbed his wrist with my right and brought my left up and around his throat, effectively blocking him from using the spear. He might have been taller than me, but the extra, brand-new power I had on him flattened him against the fridge. He tried to kick me, but I had prepared for that by turning my body a little away.

"Good, good! Use my strength, it's all yours…!" The dragon's voice drowned out.

"Don't move." He struggled some more and started to yell, but I closed my grip on his windpipe and the only thing that came out was a wheezy yell. His eyes bulged, and I thought about how the thumb fits so well over the larynx, and with one good squeeze…

"Shit…" I could feel the nausea in the back of my throat, rising up to tell me what I was doing was wrong. I stood there swallowing the bile that kept reminding me who I was and of what I could forgive myself. It took a few seconds, but I lessened my grip and allowed him a little more air. His eyes stayed wide, but they didn't bug quite as much as before. "Explain, asshole. Who are you? Talk, or I'm going to pinch your head off."

He looked around wildly, probably thinking of an escape. "As if I'd lower myself to your level, Issei! You're nothing but a damned human!"

"How do you know my name?"

I let him swallow. "Coincidence!"

"I don't believe you." I gave him a taste of his own medicine and rabbit-punched a quick jab between the eyes and popped his nose. I felt the cartilage explode on impact, and removed my wet fist to see that I'd accidentally turned the guy's expression into a discombobulated hubcap. His eyes rolled back and I felt his legs limp.

"Fuck!" I dropped the unconscious body onto the kitchen floor, not realizing my own strength. I felt tired all over, and sat down next to him, my hands dropping to my lap. I could hardly think; my hands were shaking so hard. I wasn't covered in fire anymore, so there was that. After a minute or two, I nodded and took a deep breath.

I rolled to my side and stood up slowly; my shoulder was starting to swell like a balloon. I put my hand out and against the fridge, steadied myself, and took another breath. I pushed off the device and walked over to the phone.

That's when I felt a hot, agonizing pain shoot through me. I screamed as my stomach erupted into a wave on red and entrails, followed by the horrific reveal of a sizzling light spear embedded in me. I staggered, bile and other fluids dripping from my mouth, and fell onto the floor. I could hear the soft patter of footsteps and used my fleeting strength to turn myself around.

"Sakura…" I could feel hot tears run down my face.

The good doctor stepped out of the shadows, another glowing spear in hand.

"Issei…"