Chapter 3

I think people are both easier and harder to treasure than random junk. Is that a popular opinion? I never said it was an original musing, right?

-Quote attributed to Dragon King Tiamat

A voice, beautiful and soft; a voice, broken and hurt.

A voice called Tiamat back into the waking world, out of the mire of sleep fogging her mind.

Her eyes opened. She puzzled at her surroundings for a few seconds, just long enough for the memories of yesterday to filter back through her mind.

Percy. This is his apartment. I'm on his sofa.

Thoughts came quickly and filled those gaps she had been wondering about. She sat up on the sofa she'd been using as a bed, wrestling with a blanket that hadn't been on her earlier. The apartment was dark; the living room was more than dark enough to blind any human, but Tiamat could see everything around her in perfect detail.

It was strange, she thought, that she had fallen asleep in his apartment, on his sofa, and before even he had gone to sleep. It was strange because normally, Percy was the first to fall asleep.

Even though she'd only known him for a week, she knew about a few of his quirks. His awful sleep cycle was just one thing she'd come to learn about. He took no less than four naps every day. It was actually more than a little ridiculous, she thought. Didn't he have anything better to do?

Why am I here in the first place? Shouldn't I be home? They were more acquainted than perfect strangers, true, but less acquainted than tentative friends. She hadn't thought they were close enough for her to sleep on his sofa.

Oh, right. They had been playing some kind of game, hadn't they? A game that involved alcohol and guessing certain things about the other person. That had been… funny. Tiamat even brought out one of her finer bottles of wine—fortified to deific levels—so that they could both get at least a little giggly.

And giggly they had gotten. Tiamat couldn't help but chuckle when she remembered Percy throwing himself over the sofa in an exaggerated mimicry of his "epic wrestling match with a magical otter."

"And then it threw me down from the Golden Gate Bridge... like this!"

"I put that giant otter in a choke-hold, but it wouldn't stop fighting. I'm pretty sure it was doping."

"Dude, otters are scary. Take it from me, Big Wing Boy."

Tiamat would remember that particular story for a while, she was sure.

Outside, a gentle rain fell, and the noise of droplets on the windows filled the apartment.

Tiamat rubbed the side of her head. Instead of indulging in the memories of last night, she switched to wondering about the voice that had woken her. She was sure it was real. Gods didn't dream. Not unless the Dream wanted them to dream. And she was sure the Dream hadn't been trying to contact her.

So what had it been, then? What had managed to stir her from her slumber? Who's voice could leak into her mind like water through wooden slats?

She didn't know. It had never happened to her before. This was something new.

One week spent in his presence, and I've already been exposed to another interesting experience. Tiamat licked her lips, wetting them after they'd seemingly gone dry. The world will end sooner than I'd expect if this keeps up.

She wanted to find the voice—the source.

But where could she start? The Earth's natural energy was laced throughout the atmosphere, creating a network of crossing traces leading in every direction around the globe. With so much magical saturation, it would take too long…

Except, Tiamat learned, it wouldn't take long at all.

On a whim, she had gone ahead and searched the area, extending her senses out to cover everything within a fifty-mile radius of herself. She hadn't expected to find anything, but by some strange twist of fate, she did.

There. Victorious, she latched on to an unusual concentration of demonic energy almost directly east of her. About thirty leagues. So that's where you are.

Tiamat summoned a raincoat with a minor application of magic and slipped it on. Then, she went and knocked on Percy's bedroom door.

He didn't answer for her first round of knocks, nor the second. Had the wine been too much for him? It put mortal alcohol to shame, after all, so maybe Percy hadn't been able to handle it as well as she could. Normal humans ran the risk of dying by taking just one sip.

Oh. Maybe that was it.

Maybe she'd accidentally killed him. There was probably some kind of cosmic irony in that sense. After all his blustering, he died due to extreme liver failure. That would make a funny story to tell. And, of course, if he were dead, Riptide would need a new master. She swallowed thickly, thinking about holding the sword in her own two hands.

As she debated on simply entering his room, he appeared.

"Tiamat?" He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Is this about the pay-per-view—"

"There's a powerful source of demonic energy to the east. A voice woke me up." She hid mild disappointment at her inability to claim Riptide for herself. "I think it'd be in our best interest to investigate."

He gave her a bleary blink. "Demonic energy? East? Our?"

Her eyes bore into his. "It's up to you whether you want to go or not… I'm only here to watch what happens around you… But I think this is one of your problems."

"I only have one problem," Percy said, interrupting himself with a yawn, "and you'd better hope it isn't him. Still, demonic energy means devils, right? Michael told me about them. They aren't all bad."

"They aren't all good," she said.

"Fair enough." Percy nodded, wincing when his neck cracked in a few different places. He yawned one more time, much more forcefully than before, then rubbed his eyes and started closing the door. "Give me a minute to get dressed."

"We're going?"

He nodded again, this time with clarity on his face. Apparently, the alcohol hadn't affected him much more than it had her. "Yeah. Can't let someone mess with my city all willy-nilly. I wouldn't be much of a New Yorker if I did."

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Though she didn't know how long it would have taken to travel to their destination by mortal methods, Tiamat was sure teleportation ended up being quicker. As soon as Percy had gotten into more practical clothing, they'd traveled to the source of the demonic energy via her transportation magic.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Not sure," Percy said. "It's too dark for me to make out."

Tiamat huffed, letting a small geyser of fire leave her mouth. The fire swirled in the air above them, creating a ring about ten feet from edge to center.

Yellow light danced around them.

Rain still fell from dark clouds far secluded in the sky.

They looked at their surroundings in unison.

Small rocks made up most of the shoreline they stood on. Littered among those rocks were larger ones which had been half-buried over time. Not far from where they stood was the barely illuminated shape of a tall structure built atop an elevated foundation.

Fire crackling and waves rolling were the only two sounds that caught Tiamat's attention.

With the limited light allotted to them, she could see Percy scrutinizing the area, his eyes scanning, searching, and she noticed when he stopped to look at something for just a few seconds more than the previous thing. He didn't stay that way long, though. Once he'd swept the area, his expression loosened.

"I think we're on one of the smaller islands off the eastern tip of Long Island. I forget the names," he said.

"I suppose it's not important." Tiamat didn't think knowing their precise location actually mattered. "Do you see anything unusual?"

Percy glanced up. "Aside from the floating ring of fire?"

"Yes, apart from that," she agreed, smiling a bit at his inane question. Some things were better left un-analyzed.

"Then, no." He squinted to the darker corners of the island. "Can you get a better read on the demon—er, devil? Whatever it is."

"The energy spreads too much throughout the island. We might as well try the lighthouse first, then scan the perimeter. Maybe the devil wanted to get out of the rain."

He looked at her. "You think?"

Tiamat shrugged. "Who knows? The rain doesn't bother me."

Percy held his hand up to catch some droplets that came through the center of the ring of fire. "Yeah. Rain is pretty nice. Really makes you think, doesn't it?"

Before she could understand what he meant, Percy was off, walking toward the lighthouse. He carefully stepped around the sharper rocks and broken pieces of driftwood. She followed him. The ring followed her following him.

The lighthouse was in disrepair. Chunks of stone were missing from the walls. It wouldn't stand against nature for much longer. She figured it might be able to weather the next couple of big storms before it toppled.

"Huh." Percy suddenly stopped to look at his feet. "You think…?"

Tiamat peered down as well. A smeared puddle of red gathered at the base of a large rock. Tiamat inhaled; the tang of demonic essence reached her nostrils and tickled her brain. "No question. Devil blood. Maybe there's a trail?"

Percy took out his pen and flicked the cap off. Glowing bronze replaced the cheap plastic body.

Riptide still entranced Tiamat.

Beautiful was an insulting descriptor. Riptide was more than beautiful. She was more than just a sword or a tool. She was inspiring and terrifying, powerful and merciful, stained by blood and pure as a newborn. She was impossible to do justice with words alone.

Legendary. Tiamat shivered as the word crawled from the back of her addled mind. Such a legendary blade. And she says her wielder is just as legendary.

"Let's go." Percy held Riptide confidently. His fingers were just tight enough, his arm raised just high enough, his wrist just stable enough. "We've got a mystery on our hands. Let's split up and look for clues. You go search the creepy lighthouse, and I'll stay here."

"Don't be stupid," Tiamat said. "We'll search the lighthouse together."

"C'mon, that's not how it's supposed to go. We're supposed to separate," he whined.

She sighed and gestured for him to keep walking. Percy gave her a petulant glare but did as she recommended. They continued toward the lighthouse. When the ring of flame illuminated more of the structure, a smear of blood came into sight, as if someone had dragged their hand over the wall to support themselves while moving onward.

Percy nodded in appreciation. "Now that's classic horror."

Tiamat shook her head. "It's cliche suspense, at best."

He pulled a disapproving face at her. They rounded a small portion of the lighthouse.

"Looks like we found our source," she said.

An old wooden staircase led up to the entrance of the lighthouse. Sitting at the bottom of those stairs, curled in on herself protectively, a girl with purple hair bled from a puncture wound in her shoulder.

"So… she's the devil?" Percy asked skeptically. When Tiamat looked at him, she saw an odd expression of discontent mark his face. "Not very devilish. Devil-like? Devil-esque?"

"She's about as devil as they come," Tiamat said. Her nostrils flared. "But she's also part… human? I can smell the reek. It's just like yours."

"I do take offense to that," he protested.

"What will you do with her?" she asked.

For a moment, he just stood there, studying the girl evenly. Tiamat wondered what was running through his head. Sometimes, he came across as an idiot. Sometimes, he was dangerously provocative. Most of the time, he was sleeping.

She wondered if he suffered from some kind of serious dyssomnia. That would explain his propensity for napping.

"You think she's a threat?" he finally asked.

Tiamat heaved her shoulders. "Hypothetically, yes. Her demonic power is low right now, but I have a feeling it's usually quite immense. Especially given how much she's already ejected into the surrounding area. Not to mention… there's something strange about her."

"Strange how? Except for the hair. That's an easy target, and you'd be one to talk regardless."

"Look, if you don't do something, the girl is going to bleed to death."

Percy slicked back his rain-matted hair to get it away from his eyes. He crouched down in front of the girl, using one finger to prod her face repeatedly. They didn't look like gentle prods, either. The girl's head shifted each time he touched her.

Eventually, the girl opened her eyes, wincing as she moved the rest of her body. Percy shuffled back a few inches, still crouched.

"Wha…?"

Percy touched two fingers to his head and saluted. "Hey, you all right there?"

"What's... Where… am I?" the girl asked, her voice fragile. She struggled to sit up.

"New York. Well, close to Long Island—"

"Who are... you?" She didn't let Percy finish talking, immediately launching into another question. The girl's eyes seemed to have trouble focusing on any one thing. They fluttered, moving to an untimed beat as her head bobbed from side to side. "Are you... going... to kill me?"

"No, no," Percy said, frowning. "I'm not here to kill you. I mean, I don't even know who you are."

The girl's head pitched forward, but she caught herself before she could topple to the ground. "In... g... vild. I'm… Ingvild. Ingvild… Mostrøm... Leviathan? I don't know… I just… What's…?"

Leviathan? The Satan Leviathan? One of the original four Devil Kings? Tiamat scrutinized the girl more closely. Well, that would explain her impressive demonic presence. But she feels human. Strange. Is she a half-blood? No, that should be impossible. Perhaps demonic atavism?

"Okay, okay, hold on, you're okay," Percy put a hand on her uninjured shoulder, steadying her in place. He gave her a gentle shake. "Listen, Ingvild, my name's Percy. Do you remember what happened to you?"

"They... attacked us... home... devils..."

Percy quickly glanced back at Tiamat. They shared a look, then he turned back to Ingvild. "Devils attacked you?"

The girl nodded. That action itself almost made her fall over. "Devils..."

Percy chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds. He closed his eyes. His fingers dug a little deeper into the girl's shoulder. When he opened his eyes again, he leaned closer to the girl. "Do you need some help?"

Ingvild Leviathan looked up at Percy. "What?"

The girl seems delirious.

"Do you need help? I can help you, if you want." Percy kept the girl from falling again. "But only if you want. If you say no, I won't keep bothering you. So, do you want me to help you, Ingvild?"

Tiamat raised an eyebrow. Was he one of those people? He hadn't struck her as that kind of person, but apparently he'd hidden it well.

In a way, this was good. Those kinds of people usually got involved in conflict more often.

Slowly, haltingly, Ingvild nodded at Percy's question. Though her eyes still hadn't focused much, Tiamat could see a small measure of relief flashing across the girl's face.

Percy gave her a reassuring pat on her back. "Nice. Here, let's get you on your feet."

"Are… Are you… helping me?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna help you, okay?" He took her by the hand. "Bear with me for a bit. I want to get you up."

"I… I can't stand." Ingvild Leviathan shifted the white and lilac-colored dress she wore. A deep, clean line had been carved into the outer part of her left leg, starting from the back of her calf up to the middle of her thigh. Bloody bone and flesh peered out from the wound. The leg was probably useless to her.

"That's bad," Percy said, examining the cut with a morbid huff. He didn't bother trying to calm the girl further. Instead, he turned to Tiamat. "Might be a stretch to ask, but since you're a god—dragon—do you know any healing magic?"

Tiamat looked at the girl. "Are you so magically drained that you can't even cast a basic recuperation spell on yourself?"

Ingvild blinked away droplets of rain. "I never learned magic…"

Is she serious? A devil of the Leviathan bloodline wasn't taught the most rudimentary spells in case she was hurt? Tiamat wasn't sure how that was possible.

Maybe the girl really was delirious. She had lost a lot of blood, after all. That would explain quite a bit. The girl wasn't in her right state of mind.

"Can you help her?" Percy asked again.

Tiamat hummed.

With a wave of her hand, she summoned a plastic vial from her vault of amassed wealth. It appeared in her hand with a spark of green fire. She studied the vial before tossing it to Percy.

"Magic potion?" he asked as it landed in his open palm.

Despite his skeptical tone, Tiamat thought it was funny how close to the mark he'd come with that guess. "Technically, yes. Those are a cheap imitation of Phoenix Tears."

He held the vial up to his eyes. "Phoenix Tears? That definitely sounds magical."

"As I said, it's not the real stuff. I have authentic Phoenix Tears in storage, but they won't be necessary here. All you have to do is put a few drops on the affected areas."

Percy did just that. Ingvild's eyes closed, and her wounds slowly started to do the same. Soon, instead of red flesh and white bone peeking from beneath the girl's injuries, there was only fair skin plastered in blood.

The injuries had healed in less than a minute. Authentic Phoenix Tears would have healed her in an instant. Those were best used on life-threatening wounds.

If Percy was surprised in any fathomable way, he didn't show it. "Useful. Hey, Ingvild, let's get you back to my place, okay? Uh… Ingvild?"

The girl had gone limp in his arms. Her chest still rose and fell, but she didn't respond to her name being called.

"She's only sleeping," Tiamat said.

Despite that, Percy fussed over the girl, checking her pulse and opening one of her eyes to examine its reaction. Once he was satisfied with her health, he put Riptide away and gathered the girl in his arms, lifting her without so much as a grunt.

"Okay. Let's go back."

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"I'm gonna have to change the sheets later," Percy muttered, setting a glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.

"The blood?" Tiamat asked.

"The blood," he confirmed.

"You should have given her a bath."

Percy rubbed his chin. "Maybe you've got a point."

Tiamat chuckled. The two of them were seated in the living room. Two lamps by the television gave them a dim source of light.

Shortly after they'd arrived back in the apartment, Percy had carried the girl to his room so she could rest. The girl hadn't yet woken up—ironic, everything considered—which wasn't doing them any favors when it came to getting answers.

Percy spun Riptide between his fingers as if the legendary wonder was nothing more than a toy. He sighed. "You know, it kind of sucks that this is my new normal."

She tilted her head in his direction. "What do you mean?"

"Not that I'm complaining… Okay, maybe I'm complaining a little…"

"I'm not sure I follow."

He tapped Riptide against the sofa. "Don't worry about it. Just thinking out loud."

"I see…"

She wanted to know more. But she didn't ask. It was too soon, they were too distant. He clearly wasn't willing to let his guard down for more than a few sentences.

He picked up the remote control from off the coffee table and turned on the television. He glanced at her. "Hey, by the way, thanks for helping that girl. She probably would have died without you there."

Tiamat crossed her legs. The television played a movie she was sure she'd already seen many times. "I didn't expect to hear that coming from you. Half in part because of your arrogance, half because it isn't your place to thank me for helping another person who you just met."

"Nah, it—it isn't like that for me," he said. "I told her I'd help her out, but all I would've done was stop the bleeding. I can hurt people, but I can't heal people." Percy smiled without a hint of humor at the thought. "So, yeah. Thanks. It means a lot to me."

"Well…" Tiamat wanted to say something else, but settled for saying, "You're welcome."

More humility. He really is hard to read. There must be more to it that I'm not seeing yet.

Percy kept watching the movie. Something exciting had just happened, and now people were firing guns at each other.

As more of the scene unfolded, Tiamat came to realize that she hadn't actually seen this particular movie. The actors must have looked similar to the one she'd mistaken it for. Maybe the cinematography seemed familiar.

After the exciting scene came a much less interesting one, quiet and dark, focused mainly on explaining something about one of the characters.

The hushed, droning voices and uninspired camerawork bored her.

She looked at Percy... and found that he was asleep.

Only five minutes, and he'd fallen asleep.

That was impressive, she thought. Odd, but impressive. It was the biggest quirk she knew Percy had.

Tiamat shrugged and watched the rest of the movie.

Unlike Percy, sleep didn't come easy for her this night, and it boiled down to that girl resting in the bedroom. The voice—Tiamat could still hear the voice. It was definitely Ingvild Leviathan's voice, if slightly altered. Tiamat didn't know what kind of magic the girl had cast, but it lingered, it burrowed, parasitic.

An hour later saw the movie end. Tiamat shook her head at the meandering plot and stood up. She wouldn't be able to endure another mediocrity. She reached for the remote control beside Percy's hand.

Just as she changed the channel, a nearby scent caught her attention.

Devils. She turned. And just outside. What—

A sharp, rattling knock pierced the apartment.

Percy snapped awake. He looked at Tiamat, who looked back at him.

The rain continued tapping away at the windows.

There was another set of knocks. Tiamat gestured to the entrance. "I think that's for you."

Percy opened and closed his jaw a few times, loosening it while he stood. He answered the door, "Can I help you?"

Two men stood side by side. Both devils. One of them—a devil wearing a hat and raincoat—smiled. "Hello. My partner and I have been made aware that a certain person we are searching for may be in your home."

"Person? What kind of person? I don't know any people."

The second devil, one with bright blue eyes, said, "She's about your age and has very noticeable purple hair. Perhaps she's injured. Have you seen someone like that?"

"Purple hair? Did she have coppery-orange eyes too? Goes by Ingvild Leviathan?" Percy asked.

"So you have seen her," the hat-wearing devil said.

"Yeah. She's actually asleep right now. I can take a message and give it to her when she wakes up if you want."

Tiamat was sure Percy wasn't naive enough to think the two devils in front of him would be leaving a message. Someone as paranoid as Percy? No. But if that was the case, why hadn't he taken Riptide out of his pocket yet?

The strangers gave each other surreptitious glances. The hat-wearing devil gathered demonic energy in his hand while the other devil reached behind his back.

Percy didn't seem to notice.

"No, that won't be necessary. Goodbye."

Just as the hat-wearing devil raised his arm to unleash his magic, Percy struck, like a viper. His knuckles buried themselves in the hat-wearing devil's torso, who fell to his knees, wheezing.

While the hat-wearing devil floundered, the second devil lunged forward with a dagger he'd drawn from behind his back. Percy took two steps back, fluidly retreating further into the apartment. His hand darted to his pocket and came back up in the span of a second.

The devil followed, lunged again…

And was met by glowing, entrancing, wicked bronze. Riptide's blade ran through the devil's heart. He'd fallen right on the sword when it interposed itself between him and his target. His lunge had left him no room to maneuver away.

Percy pushed the devil back through the doorway, into the hall. Tiamat got off the sofa so she could get a better view of what was happening.

Bronze arced.

The blue-eyed devil lost his head, and his legs buckled. His corpse quickly dissolved into a flurry of black ash.

Percy turned to the hat-wearing devil, who had yet to rise from the blow he'd taken. His lower ribs had probably fractured, which might also lead to serious diaphragm damage. With one swing, Riptide took that devil's head too.

Black ash slowly fluttered into the air, carried away by a non-existent breeze. For some reason Tiamat couldn't fathom, there hadn't been any blood spilled. The devils were dead, cut open by Riptide's wonderfully pristine edge, yet they hadn't bled. Very strange.

Percy looked down either side of the hallway cautiously. Letting go of a short breath, he put the cap back onto his sword. Riptide shrank into its standard guise.

The attack had lasted five seconds. And now it was over. The legendary sword and her most precious wielder had won, yet again.

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"You should have left one alive to interrogate," Tiamat said as Percy re-entered the apartment.

"You're probably right," he admitted, closing the door behind him softly. His expression had drawn into an unsettled frown. "There are a lot of things I could have asked them. But it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done. I'm guessing you know something, though."

"What gave me away?" she asked.

"You smirked a bit as soon as I agreed with you." He passed her while on his way back to the sofa. "I figured that means you think you know something I don't."

She frowned at him. While he came across as nonchalant and uncritical, he didn't lack much in perception, apparently. She hadn't even felt herself smirk. That was disquieting in its own way. "Those two were devils."

He nodded. "Makes sense to me. Ingvild said she'd been attacked by devils. Those guys were probably trying to finish the job. Unless they were different from the people who attacked Ingvild earlier."

"Which is a possibility we have to acknowledge," she said.

"Who does that leave us with?"

"It leaves us stuck between either the current devil government or the Old Satan Faction. If it's the former, then we may be looking at having defied the orders of the four most powerful devils to ever live."

"Which is… bad?"

"For you, yes."

"I'll be sure to quiver appropriately, then." Percy wrapped his arms around himself and pretended to shake in his seat. After a few seconds, he stopped. "There. Anything else we need to be worried about? You said the other option was the Old Satan Faction, right? Who are they?"

"Loyalists to the descendants of the original four Devil Kings. The terms Devil King and Satan are used interchangeably, so try not to get confused."

"Noted. What do you mean the original four?"

Tiamat sighed. She went and sat on the other sofa. "Some centuries ago… the devils fought a civil war. Old Satan Faction against Anti-Satan Faction. The Old Satan loyalists lost, and the Anti-Satan rebels took over the government. The new Satans took on the names of the old ones, using them as titles. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Leviathan, and Asmodeus."

Percy blinked and scratched his eyelid. "So, the Anti-Satan rebels took the names of the old Satans who they'd fought against? Ironic."

Tiamat had to agree, though she knew it was for political stability and appeasing traditionalists. "Yes, I suppose so."

Percy squinted. "You mentioned Leviathan, right? Isn't that—"

"The girl's last name?" Tiamat nodded eagerly. "Yes. It seems as though she is a descendant of the original Leviathan, who was one of the four Satans. The current Satan Leviathan is named Serafall, though her bloodline is tied to the Sitri family of devils, not the Leviathan family."

Counting on his fingers, Percy asked, "Then, if Ingvild is a real descendant of the original Leviathan, why would the Old Satan Faction want to kill her? Shouldn't they be on her side? I'm not exactly a math genius, but something doesn't add up here."

"That's where the complications begin," she said. "The devils' civil war ended in an Anti-Satan victory, true enough, but three descendants of the original Devil Kings still live on and keep the Old Satan Faction united. Those three are—Shalba Beelzebub, Katerea Leviathan, and Creuserey Asmodeus. By itself, that may not say much, but then you have to examine the Old Satan dogma regarding devils as a species."

"Dog-who?"

"Dogma. Simply, a truth set to be unquestioned. Anyway, the Old Satan doctrine sees pure-blooded devils as superior to every other species, except maybe the gods. Humans are practically walking, talking piles of garbage to Old Satan loyalists."

"Nazi devils?" Percy asked, an amused smile springing onto his face.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a very original ideology," she said dryly. "But it's certainly an ideology that would lead to the Old Satan Faction rejecting Ingvild Leviathan. After all, she's part human. She's damaged goods."

Percy went back to frowning. "How is she still alive, then? I mean, if the Old Satan Faction or current devil government wants her dead. She's just one girl. How old is Ingvild, anyway? How long has she survived with so many devils after her?"

That was a good observation, Tiamat thought. The girl's naturally immense demonic power would have made her a target from birth. Not just a target for the Old Satan Faction, but also for the most zealous Anti-Satan supporters.

When the Anti-Satan rebels had taken control of the government, outspoken Old Satan loyalists were driven to the fringes of the Underworld. Even if Ingvild Leviathan had no plans to take back her rightful title from the Anti-Satan government, and even if she tried to integrate herself into the devils' society, her name carried significant weight. She was a potential fire-starter.

Anti-Satan extremists would rather see her dead than start a new revolution to topple everything they'd fought for.

Old Satan loyalists would despise her for being a mix of devil and human.

By all accounts, there was no safe place in the Underworld for Ingvild Leviathan. How was she still alive? And how had Tiamat never heard of the girl until just now?

"So, who are we more worried about?" Percy asked. "The current devil government or the Old Satan Faction?"

"The current Devil Kings," Tiamat answered immediately.

Percy clicked his tongue. "Can they control time?"

"No."

He blew out a puff of air from his nose. It sounded mildly amused. "No reason to worry, then."

"Is that so?" she said.

"Yup."

His bouts of arrogance really did stagger her. How could it not? Despite being a demigod, or something similar, he still believed he was a match for everyone and everything. It was almost a little pathetic. A thought crossed her mind as she played back her most recent impression of Percy.

"You move very gracefully," Tiamat said. "When you fight, when you walk, when you talk. The amount of discipline it must take is staggering to even imagine."

"I'm a very disciplined person. You could say I learned from the best."

Tiamat could hear admiration coloring his voice. Curious, she asked, "And who was it that taught you these things?"

"Me."

"Of course." She shouldn't have been surprised. Still, she sighed. "Hubris abound. But how old are you? I've seen people waste decades trying to discipline themselves the way you have. I've seen humans break themselves grasping for what you managed to accomplish."

Percy twisted his wrist. It cracked. "Truthfully, I'm older than I look. I wouldn't say it took decades for me to get to where I am… but it wasn't something that happened overnight." Percy let his head drop on the sofa's backrest while he closed his eyes. He covered his forehead with the back of his hand. "Speaking of happening overnight, what do you think I should do about Ingvild?"

"I can't say. The decision is yours."

"Wow, thanks, that's really helpful."

"I'm not here to make decisions for you."

Percy rubbed his jaw tiredly. "Guess I'll wait until she's awake. I wanna hear her side of the story. Some things make me wonder… Though if we have to fight against Nazi-like devils, I'm all for it. Fascism sucks."

Tiamat had to ask: "Why are you helping the girl? A paranoid person like you doesn't strike me as the philanthropic type."

He hummed. "I'm not that paranoid. I save all of my paranoia for dealing with gods. Demons, monsters, other stuff like that... I find them easier to deal with than gods. More to the point, I save my paranoia for the things that can—and will—try to kill you because you called their Armani suit 'tacky.' Usually, gods fit that bill."

"Devils can be like that too," she pointed out.

"Ingvild didn't strike me as the type of person." Percy lifted one shoulder, mimicking a shrug of indifference. "And if she is, I'll take full accountability and deal with the situation as necessary."

"You would kill her, is what I'm hearing."

Percy flicked his hand at her. "Geez, that's dark, T. I'll do what I think is necessary. It doesn't have to be so morbid."

"I do believe the girl is more powerful than you are."

"I do believe that's a matter of perspective. Depends on how you define power. Besides, I don't pay attention to that kind of stuff. Power? More like... flour, am I right?"

Tiamat stared at Percy. "That didn't even make sense."

"My point: I'm gonna help Ingvild because she reminds me of someone. If worse comes to worst, I'll handle it."

Tiamat scratched her collarbone. Her fingers felt cold against the warm flesh of her chest. "You seem to adapt quickly. That's a good trait to have. But what if more devils come to finish what they started?"

"I'll deal with them."

"Well, I could always put some protections around this place. It will make tracking the girl more difficult."

He cracked his jaw. "What's that gonna cost me?"

Tiamat thought about it. She didn't think he had anything worth giving except Riptide, and there was no way he'd separate with Riptide for this. Though they'd only known each other for a week, that much Tiamat was absolutely certain of. In fact, she didn't think there was anything that Percy would trade Riptide for. So she said, "Nothing. We're partners. Don't partners help each other?"

"Partners... Yeah, I guess you're right," Percy said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Tiamat replied. She stared at him. "I have to say, you've taken the changes in your life very well. Not everybody would grow accustomed to a new reality as quickly as you."

"Not everybody is me."

She narrowed her eyes, amused and annoyed at his half-hearted and brusque answers. "Don't you miss your home?"

Percy didn't say anything for a long time. His mouth formed a thin, tight line, and the fingers of his raised hand twitched. The muscles in his jaw and neck seemed to flex, as if he were holding himself back from yawning or talking.

When he finally did speak, the words came out sharp, if also uneasy: "This is home now."

"What happened to your old home?" Tiamat asked carefully.

He grimaced. "We lost. Prophecy unfulfilled, thanks for playing! Time was never on our side."

Tiamat settled herself further into the sofa. "There was a prophecy?"

She knew plenty about prophecies. When the gods had been more active in the mortal world, there had been many prophecies delivered by seers and oracles. Those were simpler times. Nowadays, the power of foretelling the future was diminished a millionfold. Too many variables presented themselves. Too many complications.

Percy sighed quietly. "Tiamat, no offense, but I'm not in the mood to talk about that right now. I'd really just rather go to sleep."

Tiamat didn't want to let the subject drop. She'd probably earned some of Percy's trust by helping him with the girl, and maybe their time spent together in the past week had also done some good.

But it wasn't enough. That much was made clear. Percy was trusting, but not that trusting.

In the end, she didn't have a choice. She dropped it.

"That's fine," she said. "We can talk later."

He blew air out of his mouth, almost whistling. "Cool."

Soon, he'd fallen asleep. Tiamat stood up. She would throw a few protective spells around the apartment before leaving.

On her way to the door, she stopped and turned back to where Percy slept on the sofa.

It was strange, she thought, that he hadn't taken his hand away from his face for the latter half of their conversation.

Not even once.

If I attacked you now... who would kill who, I wonder? Tiamat shook her head. Even if you aren't a god, Percy, you're arrogant enough for the both of us. You must really hate yourself to walk that line.

Author Note: Thank you for your kind support.

Ingvild Leviathan. Again, she hasn't had a lot of screentime. She kind of had some stuff going on in Shin Volume 1 what with Nyx and the Hell God alliance wanting to use her because of her Longinus, but after that, we don't get much. She's softspoken, eager, often sleepy, and gets swept up in the moment easily, is really what I got from volumes 1 and 2.

Anyway, for this story, I'm planning on giving her a little more attention. I'm planning on having the next chapter be dedicated to Ingvild's perspective to give her a bit of meat in the story.

Thanks for reading.