Author Notes: Regarding my first and only review (Thanks, by the way, I really appreciate it!), I'm not too well versed in the rules of writing, as this is my first FanFiction/Public work, more-or-less an experimental stage, but I checked against some other fics, and will now be writing my dialogue in the spoken-text-has-it's-own-paragraph style. As for the word Diaplated, I've heard it used on occasion and believe it means "Rickety, weak foundation, ready to fall." I probably mutilated the spelling though. At any rate, don't expect it to be used a lot, so it shouldn't be a problem.

I'd also like to mention that the reason my Prologue's are Chapters is because the chapter system has no kind of Chapter 0 or Prologue selection, and it would look weird if I used, say, Chapter's 1 and 2 for Prologue and Chapter 3 for Chapter 1. Confusing, huh?

Notes about this chapter: Non-romantic minor kiss scene. A bit of non-bloody violence and violent threats.

Chapter 2: Prologue Part 2

Laharl was frantic, almost chaotic. He looked in every direction, listened for any and every sounds, tried to locate any possible clues of Flonne's whereabouts. It was his priority to find her and ensure her safety, as well as the safety of his Vassals. Though he never really talked too much about it, or expressed his feelings very often, they were indeed his friends, and those of whom he cared very much about, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"Flonne!" he called yet again, but still, received no answer.

His running slowed to a jog. Both because he was becoming tired, and because he did not want to accidentally pass a possibly unconscious Flonne by. He realized, at this point, how easy it would be to lose your way in this labyrinth of skyscrapers. Buildings and more buildings as far as the eye could see, which wasn't too far considering the blue fog like haze.

Finally he came to a standstill, looking in every direction. Could it have been just something in his head? Did he really hear Flonne scream, or was this place just messing with his head?

No way…I'm not crazy…I know I heard her… Laharl thought to himself.

Laharl's eyes lit up, as an idea came to him, and he looked down.

The pendant!

Yes, the pendant Flonne had given him as a gift. It's original intent was allowing Flonne to survive in the Netherworld, for normally, Angels were incapable of dwelling in the Netherworld for very long, else they would die. However, ever since Flonne had been restored by Seraph, she had developed a sort of "Immunity" to the Netherworld, and no longer required the pendant, which she had given to Laharl, to go there. Laharl hoped that somehow the Pendant could lead him to Flonne.

Slowly, he raised the pendant into the air, and held it far out in front of him, slowly turning counterclockwise. Slowly…slowly…there! He felt it, the Pendant suddenly grew a bit warmer, and glowered just the tiniest amount. While he could not be sure if it would lead him to Flonne, it was his only chance. Pointing the pendant straight ahead, he began walking at a rather fast pace, and as he did, he could feel the Pendant's warmth increasing, the glow strengthening. This had to be it! This had to lead to Flonne!

At that, Laharl took off at a run. Before long, he came upon an area of the place that was different from the pattern of buildings seen everywhere else. It was a small, upraised concrete circle, with cobblestone walkways leading to the center, four wooden benches set at the very edges of the round rising, and what appeared to be a water well situated right in the middle. The pendant was warm to the point of almost being hot, and glowing fiercily. Flonne had to be around here, somewhere.

"Hey, Flonne! Where are you?" No answer.

Laharl continued to scan his surroundings, and with no sign of Flonne, came upon the possibility that she could be in the wall. While not familiar with the common human story of "Falling into a Well", it was an obvious possibility being the only enclosure around. He was about to investigate, but just as he took a step forward, footsteps went by behind him, as if someone had run by.

"Who's there?" Laharl called out as he spun around, but no answer came. "Flonne? Is that you?" Still, nothing.

Yet again he heard running, on the opposite side of the concrete raising. But this time, he also heard girlish giggling, which was, unmistakably, Flonne's voice.

"Flonne, are you playing games with me?" He shouted.

Now his fear had turned into a bit of anger. It was, after all, a little irritating to be mislead into thinking that someone was in danger when in truth they were playing tricks on you.

"Come on, I don't have time for this!" His words were met with more giggling. "This is stupid. You better cut it out or I'm going to leave you here, Flonne."

The giggling and footsteps stopped. Laharl thought for a moment that the games would end. In the distance, he could now see a figure approaching. Definitely Flonne.

"What's the matter with you? Sheesh…love freak and a weirdo…come on! Hurry up and get ove—"

Laharl found himself cut short as the figure abruptly appeared in front of him, face to face, staring at him directly.

"Whoa…what happened to YOU?" Laharl commented.

The figure before him appeared to be Flonne, but a few things were also very different about her. A shadowy aura surrounded her body, traveling upwards in windlike wisps. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, tinted red. Most noticeable of all, however, was that she was not wearing her bright, pretty white dress, but a dark, funeral-esque black dress. She wore a frown on her face, and continued to stare at Laharl, saying nothing.

"Did you go all out Demon or something? Cause if you did, that'd be gre—"

Again he had been cut off, but this time it was not by Flonne, more specifically, it was her lips, firmly pressed against Laharls own for a split second, before she broke off, and resumed staring at him.

"HEY! Wha…what was THAT for? Uggghhh! Why did you do that?" Laharl shouted in disgust, as he spat repeatedly onto the ground. "Egghhhh!"

The strange Dark Flonne lowered her head and stared at the ground, blinking softly a few times.

"You didn't like it…?" she spoke, her voice in a double tone, one of her own, but one of someone else, a much darker, sinister voice.

"Are you feeling alright…?" Laharl questioned, still wiping his mouth off from the rather "disturbing" experience.

"You don't like me Laharl…" she said, still focused upon the ground.

"Huh? Wha…what! You know I…of course I…how could I…ARGH! WHATS THE MATTER WITH YOU?" he yelled, as he grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her.

Perhaps this was not the best course of action, for Flonne recoiled sharply, and looked at Laharl, her eyes now burning with an intensive hate.

"Never touch me…" Her fists clenched as she spoke, and her voice shifted more to the sinister, razor sharp claws extending from her fingers. "I'll tear you into pieces…"

Without a chance to react, Dark Flonne threw her hands forward, sending a wave of shadow energy, slamming into Laharl and knocking him down onto his back.

"HEY!" he shouted in annoyed protest, but that was all he could get out, as Dark Flonne leaped for the Prince, claws extended.

Laharl rolled out of the way, and regained footing quickly, raising his fists. Though he never wanted to bring any harm to Flonne, he would have to stop her somehow, otherwise SHE would end up killing HIM. At guard and ready, Laharl braced himself as Dark Flonne turned and charged.