Chapter 37: Burn It All Down

Bit by bit, the house of cards will burn. And not even Satan himself can escape.

Also, a quick warning: Big spoilers for basically anything after chapter 47 from this point on. If you want to read past where the anime ends at any point, I recommend getting to at least the mid-60s (anime ends early 30s).

As for any manga readers who are more or less caught up, I'll also take this time to say that I'm not going to be following the most recent arc at all except for a few small things I can work in here and there. So yes, this includes some pretty world-shaking revelations about certain characters' childhoods as well as basically everything to do with Satan and most of how the Blue Night went down. I have my own overly elaborate plans for how that mess went down that is 1000% self-indulgent nonsense.

When Bon and the others arrived at the girl's dorm, it was to the sight of vines choking several trees, charred bark visible under their winding grasp. There were several other signs of damage that the stray fire must have caused, but beyond that, it was eerily quiet despite the chaos taking place just down the road.

Konekomaru adjusted his glasses as he examined the clearly unnatural plants, "Do those vines mean that Shiemi is here as well?"

Bon shrugged, and mentally tried to piece together what must have happened, "I didn't realize she had work to do on campus today. But why is she here?"

"She…She must have been worried about Paku." Izumo muttered, bitterness on her tongue. But she refused to back down and boldly strode over a patch of smoldering grass, "Let's go."

The dorms were nearly silent, the polished floor and spotless interior exactly what one would expect of a high-class school. It was nearly empty, but several discarded papers and a jacket gave hints that someone had recently moved through the entrance, and quickly at that.

"Do you think they left?" Konekomaru asked, investigating a paper and seeing little more than chemistry notes.

Shima shrugged, "Let's find out-"

Bon cut the other off, opening his mouth to loudly bellow out a question into the seemingly empty dorm, "HEY! IS ANYONE HERE?!"

Shima flinched, covering his ears at the sudden noise as it reverberated through the spacious entranceway. He smiled fondly, even as his ears rang, "Well, that's our Bon, always making things simple with that big mouth of his."

"What did you just say?"

"Guys, this really isn't the time!"

Izumo turned to snap at the trio to be quiet when an answering cry rang out from deeper in the dorm.

"We're up here, on the second floor!"

Izumo was halfway up the stairs before the words had even finished. She spotted the room they had to be in easily enough, Paku's head peeking out from the doorway nervously. The plum-haired girl felt fearful anger surge through her as her worries were confirmed and puffed up in order to smother the black feeling in her chest as she stormed forward, "What are you doing here, why didn't you go back to the cram school?"

Paku stumbled for words and backed into the room where Shiemi sat on a bed. The blonde stood when realized an argument was about to break out, and quickly interrupted, her words spilling forth so rapidly that she was almost incoherent, "My key will only let me through! We tried to run, but suddenly the trees were on fire and the ground started shaking, so we decided to hide back inside!"

"And then what?" Izumo hollered, teeth bared in a snarl of anger, "You were just going to wait here until the dorm burned down!? Are you two stupid or something?"

Shiemi shook her head furiously no, "We believed that you would come back and help us!"

Izumo flinched away in surprise at the bold statement.

Shima, having followed closely behind Izumo without her knowing, awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking left and right and anywhere that wasn't the confrontation he had walked in on"Damn, you've got more faith in us than I do…Now I feel pretty bad."

Paku shook her head, "There's nothing to feel bad about, Shima. You all are just doing your best."

"Ah, if you say so…" The pink-haired boy muttered and pulled out his phone to check something or other.

Izumo ignored the pink-haired boy, knowing he was going to be as pointless as always. Instead, she finally caught sight of Shiemi's right arm wrapped in hasty but careful bandages, "What happened to your arm, Shiemi?"

The girl tugged her long sleeves back down to better cover them, "Oh, um…Well…"

Paku stepped forward, determined, "When the fireball hit the tress, she ran over to put them out and got a little too close. That's also about when everyone else ran away- seeing the attack and then watching big vines show up from nowhere surround the trees must have scared them."

Shima nodded once to Bon and Konekomaru as they joined him in loitering by the doorway before turning his attention back to the girls, "I was wondering about that…So I guess you found your dorm leader's medical supplies to treat her burns then?"

The brunette nodded, "Yes, I knew that she had to have some, so we came up here and, thankfully, she left her door open."

Shiemi spoke up, a forced smile on her face, "I'm perfectly fine, it doesn't even hurt a little bit!"

Izumo's eyes narrowed as she examined the covered wound. The sheer size and the careful way Shiemi held herself could only mean one thing: "Liar. That has to hurt a lot, right?"

"Ah, well I guess it hurts a bit…" Shiemi affirmed nervously before she shook off the hesitation, "But only a tiny bit! I'm fine to run or fight or help out however I can!"

Izumo laughed, sharp and dry and humorless, "You really are just like that, huh?"

"Hey now, now's really not the time to start something…"

Shima pulled the larger teen to the side and held a finger in front of his mouth in the universal 'be quiet' gesture, "Let them work things out, Bon."

"But Yukio-"

He held up his phone and winked, "I'll text him to meet us here instead, ok?"

Bon mulled over the idea for a minute, listening to the girls talk. Changing up plans wasn't the best idea when things were going to hell in a handbasket outside, but he supposed that things were relatively calm here, for now. And- "Fine, I guess."

"I'm…I'm sorry I've been such a pain to deal with." Izumo bit out, the apology sudden and unexpected enough that it took everyone by surprise, "To be blunt, I don't know how to handle people as nice as you. I keep thinking that it's either fake or that you need to grow up and get a clue!" The girl continued and her eyes looked back to Shiemi's burns, "But even after all this crap, you're still able to smile like that, and it really pisses me off! I still think you're too naïve, and I still don't like you because you're just way too strong. I really hate how easy it is for you to get along with everyone else, you hear me?"

Shiemi stared up at Izumo, her eyes wide with surprise. But it quickly shifted into something more understanding and she smiled, pure and happy, "I understand, Izumo! And that's why I still want to be friends with you!"

"I just said I don't like you; didn't you hear me!?"

"I sure did!"

-And Bon decided that he could wait a few minutes until the girls were ready. It was only logical that they stayed inside and away from stray strikes when they had such a large group- surely, they would be too easy of a target if they left now.

Paku laughed as Izumo flushed in confused embarrassment, "I think Shiemi understands better than you do, Izumo."

"You two…"

Bon gave up trying to justify his reasoning and nodded to Shima, "Sure, go ahead and let Yukio know then. I'll keep watch in case the fighting moves closer."

"That's good, cause I already texted him!"

"What the hell, why did you even ask me then?"

"I figured I should at least be polite!" Shima said with a cheerful hum, and, with a snap of his wrist, flicked his phone shut. He grinned, "Don't worry, I've already handled everything, Bon!"

When Satan and Yukio arrived at the nearly abandoned dorm, the king of demons didn't even wait for Kuro to stop before he slid from the Cat Sídhe's back. He jogged to the door and sniffed the air- his still mostly human nose wasn't the best, but he could at least rely on it enough to know that no demons were lying in wait. The smell of burning things, a great deep well, and an underlying fake sugar-poison pervaded his senses in general, but they were far away. He slipped in the door before Yukio could say anything and motioned for them to follow.

"Kuro, keep watch but stay inside. We don't need to give away where we are just yet."

Kuro shook himself once Yukio had slid down, fluffing the fur where the humans had sat. Happily, he shrank down and padded through the door, 'Got it! I'll be the best guard ever!'

When Yukio, clearly worried, stepped in and opened his mouth to speak, Satan cut him off, "Grab whatever you think we'll need, Yukio. I'll get the sword and clean up." And he made to head up the stairs, only for a hand to firmly grab the wrist just above his injured one.

The red handkerchief that had been crudely tied on made it nearly impossible to see the blood, but there was still a telling dampness. Yukio felt sick, "If you're going to treat your hand, you should let me do it."

Satan pulled his hand free without a single acknowledgment of the normally debilitating pain he was feeling, "It's really not a big deal."

"'Not a big deal'?" The younger, human, teen repeated slowly, letting the words really sink in, "Not a big deal?! Rin, I could smell your flesh burning back there, and you want me to just ignore that?"

"With how I am, it'll be healed in like a day!" Satan resisting even though the sight of Yukio's nearly hysterical face struck him like a physical blow, "So, compared to how bad things would be if you got hurt, yes, I don't consider it a big deal."

For some reason, this stopped Yukio short of whatever diatribe he had planned. He took a shaking breath and visibly forced himself to relax, "Why are you like this? Why, Rin? Why do you insist on acting like it isn't a big deal when you get hurt? Because even if it heals, it still hurts me to see you suffer. Especially when you did it to protect me!"

"Because maybe it hurts to see you worry over me too, ok?" Satan admitted, bitter not at the way emotion was still able to stab at his heart, but instead at his own inability to accept it. Emotions were a beautiful nightmare- sparkling as they cut into his flesh, and he clutched them so hard so that he never again forgot what it meant to feel. But it was a tricky thing, "It doesn't exactly feel all that fucking great to watch you try and put on a brave face so you can stitch me back together when I know you're trying to not gag! So, if I can just heal on my own, then isn't that enough?"

"So just because I'm not some superpowered demon…" Yukio started, slow and deliberate with his words, "…I'm not worthy to stand by your side?"

Satan recoiled, horrified. For as much as he wanted to lock Yukio away in a high castle, away from the grasping claws of reality and cruelty, he knew that wasn't possible. And so Yukio needed to stay by his side, if only so he could be within reach, "No, that's not-!"

"I know that's not what you meant," But a bitter (weak) part of him screamed and shouted that that was exactly what was meant, that he never had been good enough, "but I don't feel like arguing over your lack of self-preservation. Again. If you say you'll be fine, I know that you will be at this point. But, damn it, I still worry that one day-" Yukio shook his head, body trembling with emotion and fading adrenaline for a fight he was too weak to even begin, "Go fix up your hand."

Satan didn't chase after Yukio. He desperately wanted to, he really did, but he also knew that things like this were bound to happen. His child was growing and was no longer content staying smothered in Satan's admittedly long shadow- that was normal and healthy and something he had even taken steps to encourage. If he was overbearing then he would lose yet another child, but he also refused to be emotionally absent once again. So, he would let Yukio sort out his own feelings and frustrations and they would talk properly once things were less chaotic. Yes, that was why he didn't follow, and not at all the small shard of hurt in his chest.

He found plenty of medical supplies in the bathroom and literally peeled off the handkerchief from his hand, breaking open scabs and tearing away the loose, pussy, black flesh. He grimaced at his hand that had been turned into little more than a slab of overcooked meat and charred flesh. It was still oozing and weeping bloom and lymph at such a rate he was just a touch worried. Without much thought or a hint of hesitation, upended the entirety of a bottle of peroxide onto the mangled flesh and watched, detached, as the entire thing erupted into an angry hissing ball of bubbles.

He didn't cry out or even wince, instead letting the physical pain both simultaneously ground him and let his mind drift. Just what was the best way to make things clear to Yukio? He wanted to craft a perfect plan and have a perfect script so he could perfectly repair their relationship. But Yuri had told him that such obvious over planning came off as fake and insincere (and that explained so many things, so many failed apologies), and besides, he didn't know what specific issues Yukio would even want to talk over. There had to be plenty- relationships were messy and blurry when you didn't disregard all common sense and decency and let your very souls meld and commune on the most primal possible level. No, without such a perfect understanding, issues and problems had to be talked out in stages, picked apart piece by piece over a series of days, if not weeks, from what Satan had carefully observed. Otherwise, things would become overwhelming.

Overwhelming was something that he understood, at least.

Less than five minutes later saw his wounds treated and the sealing sword in hand. The sheath was suspiciously warm, heat rising up to meet his fingertips in a way that reminded him of the gaping hole where his flames usually were. There were still the tiniest embers, enough to sustain him, but he hated holding the sword as it was nothing but temptation incarnate.

He ignored it and met Yukio at the bottom of the stairs.

'Nothing happened while you were gone!' Kuro reported proudly.

Yukio, now ladened with two bags filled with who knew what, nodded to the other and tossed one of the bags his way, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah…"

A silence stretched between them, awkward and strained. Yukio looked calmer, but his eyes still continued to dart to Satan's hand, now so tightly wrapped with white bandages that he had trouble moving things properly. Or maybe it was the crude way he had stopped the bleeding- peroxide was a fantastic disinfectant but it also killed cells indiscriminately.

It would heal.

It had to.

They both began to speak as one:

"Rin-"

"Yukio-"

Their words smothered the other's and they both stopped in a vain attempt to let the other continue. After a moment, Yukio spoke up.

"Sorry, you can go first."

Satan wanted to say the exact same thing but knew that doing so would just lead them in circles. Besides, he was the older one, so he should set an example in some way. "Alright then. Well, I wanted to say that-"

The ringing of a phone interrupted them, the harsh squealing tones making the two jump in surprise.

Yukio dug into his pocket and pulled the phone free. Recognizing the number, he shook his head, "Sorry, considering the situation, I really should answer this."

Satan nodded, the words too heavy.

"Hello? Konekomaru?" Yukio started, brows furrowing in confusion. Satan could only hear static-filled chatter from where he was, but even he could tell it was rapid with raw panic, "Wait, I can't understand you, you need to-Konekomaru, what was that about Shima? Hello? Hello?"

"The call dropped," Yukio informed pointlessly, the teen more talking to himself than Satan. He pulled the phone in front of him and quickly went through it, rapidly clicking through his files and calls, "I don't see any messages from anyone else…I'm going to call him back, but we should..."

Satan stopped him from a potentially disastrous mistake and shook his head, "No, don't call him. If things really have gone to hell, you could give away his position if he's hiding. No, we'll head over there immediately and have the advantage of surprise."

"The advantage of surprise?" Yukio asked, picking up not on his twin's words but the cautious tone that he rarely heard, "Just what do you think's going on?"

"I really don't know, but…" But everything inside him was screaming that he was missing something, that there was an angle he hadn't considered. That feeling hadn't been wrong for over a millennium. "Something about this entire attack isn't adding up."

"I'm assuming you have a plan then?"

"I have some ideas, but we'll figure out the rest on the way there. Kuro!"

'Right!'

As they took off out the door, Satan filed away their almost-conversation away for later. It was clearly something important, the upwelling of ugly feelings that Yukio had been keeping hidden for some time. It hurt to know that he hadn't been seen as a confidante, but he also knew the reason why- he himself had to be the center of the problem. It was a frightening thought, but Satan would bear the weight (like he always did) and push forward. There was a crisis to solve, a scheme from Iblis and Egyn to stop, and a territory to re-secure.

They could always talk out their problems later.

"I have to say, I'm rather disappointed in you, Egyn. After how confident you were, I had honestly expected you to have something. Granted, you never stood a chance against me, but I respected your intelligence enough that I thought you might have finally figured something out. I guess my respect was misplaced."

Egyn panted and drug himself to his feet as best as he could. Cuts and broken bones healed with audible snaps and the wet noise of flesh moving back together. Overall, he wasn't nearly as hurt as his shaky movement would imply, and yet his left leg refused to respond properly, no matter how much power he forced into it. It was sluggish and lagged behind the rest of his movements by several seconds, and even then it only moved in slow motion. The culprit was a single piece of innocent-looking thread tied deceptively loose around his thigh.

Egyn didn't dare attempt to untie it- he liked having two legs, thank you very much.

"And with that, you can no longer run away, dear brother."

"I never planned-" Egyn began before he lashed out with unnatural speed to his side.

A millisecond of distortion was all the proof that Egyn had that Mephisto had tried to strike him.

It was a lesser-known fact, but despite being the self-proclaimed King of Time, Mephisto could not, in fact, stop time on a whim. Oh, he could alter the flow, accelerate himself to a ridiculous degree, and slow others, but actually stopping time took, well, time. It was a complex ritual that he typically needed hours to set up because time resisted change exponentially. And even his other powers were limited- they had ridiculously flashy tells, and Egyn didn't mean the visible ones Mephisto liked to add in to make things confusing. No, the smoke and sparkles were all extraneous details that didn't need to be there in the first place, but the feeling of power gathering, of the world bending to another's will, was unmistakable.

"I never planned to run away from you, Mephisto."

While Egyn was hardly in his ideal environment, the very air itself was saturated with water today, and it formed a veil that gave the water demon sight beyond what eyes could see. Air filled every single gap and crack in the world and the evaporated water let him 'see' a perfect outline of every single thing in the world. Every breath, every flicker of movement that might be otherwise hidden, even the subtle distortion caused by power. Every movement Mephisto made, Egyn could sense. Even if it was faster than he could process, even if it was something, he had no way of following, he let himself shift and react and reach for anything that approached him. None of Mephisto's larger attacks would work, not when Egyn could sense the air shift to make room for them, not when he could follow every twitch of a finger and every inhale needed for a chant. Meanwhile, all Egyn needed was a single brush of a finger, and liquid would violently explode, ripping apart everything around it.

It was how Mephisto very nearly lost his left arm, the skin violently torn and burned around his forearm. Only his ability to slow time and retreat had saved him from a grisly fate.

But even with everything possible twisted in his favor, Egyn was still losing.

Seeing the veil of water was easy enough, but being fast enough to react, and to constantly have his power activated and ready to unleash at the slightest touch was draining. His own body bore signs of decay and necrosis as it was destroyed by strength that was simply beyond it. He only needed to stall, but even that would be too much against a beast too far beyond him. Blows still landed, his body still broke far too easily, and his power was being drawn away to prevent curses from freezing him completely. He could unleash his heart and drown the curses, bring forth a storm and flood the entire school, but then Mephisto would get angry and there was a very real chance Egyn would truly die.

He had no other choice.

Egyn pulled free the first of the syringes, the liquid in it the color of blue moonstones.

"Oh, and what would that be? A poison you'll try and force into me?"

Egyn didn't respond and instead plunged the fat needle into his neck. No sooner than had the needle penetrated did Egyn's body violently lash out, trying to strike the foe that was already gone. Mephisto stood some distance away and frowned at the empty syringe, not a drop of the liquid left.

The King of Time tossed the syringe to the side carelessly. It didn't hit the ground.

"And just what was that? Yet another failed Elixir prototype? Do you really think such a small amount will make a difference?" Mephisto mocked.

"It may not be perfect, but you shouldn't underestimate my efforts! While the effects aren't permanent, this Elixir is a hundred, no, a thousand times more effective than anything you've ever seen!" Egyn shouted as his body healed his wounds, his degradation, and even lifted the strain of living itself as it went as far as to improve his body. He could feel it in his blood still, ready to restore him to beyond perfect condition for however long as it would last.

The foolish idea of a perfect Elixir was nothing new, humans always chased true immortality and there was plenty of inspiration in Gehenna, but Egyn had never seemed so sure as to directly use it on himself under such conditions. Mephisto watched him closely and could see the body healing its necrosis and pain, and yes, even he could admit that such results with such a small dose was somewhat impressive. But still…

"Oh really? Well then…"

Egyn jerked, but it was too late- Mephisto held the two other syringes between thieving fingers like cheap coins.

"Maybe I should test them myself? After all, this body has been through a lot recently, so it's only fair that you repay the damages you've caused, no? Well then, here we go…"

Savagely, he crushed the reinforced glass in one hand, electric blue liquid staining his gloves from between the crushed shards. Egyn gaped at the display he had sensed and, even though he could not see, he knew that Mephisto refused to look away even as he tossed liquid life to grass, uncaring at what he had just done.

"Do you really think I'm an idiot, Egyn?" Mephisto jeered as he delicately removed the soiled glove and stowed it away. It would be useful in telling him exactly what had been in the cocktail his little brother had cooked up, "I'll admit, if it was anyone but me, it might have worked. But do you really think I'm so stupid that I would assume that you haven't poisoned at least one of these after you made such a show of how effective they were?"

Egyn backed away, shaking now that his gambit had failed. Mephisto almost pitied the poor demon: he was far from an idiot, but he continued to insist on challenging his superior instead of accepting his place as a cowardly tinkerer.

"Now, now, if you're going to make such a face…At least let me see it properly."

The blindfold was pulled away, and Egyn screamed as his only defense was taken from him. His eyes, instinctively open, snapped closed and his hands came to shield them…but not before he caught a glance of Mephisto's mocking sneer. It was only a tiny sliver of a peak, but it was enough to send fear wracking down his spine, and Egyn tried to back away. But his cursed leg refused to respond, and he tumbled back and laid there, sprawled on the grass as he tried to hide.

"Honestly…" Mephisto began, taking his time to stroll to where the blue-haired demon had fallen, "You're so pathetic. All that strength, and yet you can't even stand to look your enemy in the eye." The elder demon crouched over the fallen false child and reached a clawed hand out until it was over Egyn's covered face. He pulled the tiny wrists away easily with one hand (careful to not let those dangerous fingertips touch him) and tapped a single claw with deceitful delicateness on an eyelid. Like a human unable to look away from their approaching death, Egyn's eyes, crystals of blue and seafoam green, snapped open and couldn't close, couldn't even blink, at the sight of an apex predator crouched over him, fangs barred and claws hovering just a millimeter from his eye.

"I should just do you a favor and pluck those troublesome eyes right out of your head here and now."

When Satan and Yukio arrived at the other dorm, it was eerily quiet. Someone else might not have noticed it, but Satan could detect the presences hidden just below his awareness, something that tickled at his instincts.

"There are demons here."

Found out, the demons- large dogs that dripped with shadows and electricity- leaped from their hiding spots. There were only three in total and they were dwarfed by Kuro's massive bulk, but the sight was worrying enough. Three was more than enough to handle any stray humans who happened to come by, and there was little doubt that they had by lying in wait.

"What are Black Dogs doing here?" Yukio hissed and kept his back to Satan's, gun trailed warningly at the demon that was trying to flank them.

"There're other demons here as well."

"What-?"

A scream, high-pitched and feminine, rang out from within the dorm.

There was too much power saturating the air for Satan to make out the specifics from so far away, but the underlying tint of incenses and earth was enough to let him know that at least one summons had been called recently.

"We don't have time for this. Kuro, you can handle these things, right?"

'These stupid dogs won't stand a chance against me!'

"Good, guard the entrance and make sure Yukio and I don't get blindsided," Satan instructed and did a mental check of his weapons, "Yukio, we're going to run for it. Whatever is going on in there isn't going to wait for us."

Yukio didn't question things, too worried for the others to argue against such a reckless plan, "Right."

The dash to the entrance was as simple as it was dangerous, but Kuro was a terrifying demon under the cute fluff and borderline ditzy demeanor. He snatched one Black Dog into his great maw the instant the twins leapt from his back and bit it nearly in two. The other demons kept their distance and growled menacingly, sparks crackling around their paws. Kuro's captured prey collapsed and dissolved into a semi-solid shadow that poured free from the gaps in the Cat Sídhe's teeth. It reformed some distance away, form drooping and slightly smaller, but otherwise uninjured.

Kuro hissed and refused to be intimidated.

Satan didn't think about it at the time, but much, much later, he would realize that the Black Dogs never once actually attempted to keep him and Yukio out of the dorm.

Anyone else might have hesitated and wondered as to where they had to go in the building. But Satan let his instincts guide him, the feeling of power and rage and fear guiding him to the stairs in an instant. It was simple enough to charge up the steps, taking them two at a time and yet deceptively silent. He could hear muffled voices, begging, pleading, all mixed with anger.

He nearly tripped over Konekomaru's limp body as he rounded the corner.

He paused only long enough to confirm that the teen wasn't dead- his breathing was even and strong though that didn't necessarily mean he was completely fine. Prolonged unconsciousness usually wasn't a good sign, even without obvious damage. A few feet away were the remains of a phone, a clean hole right through the screen like a bullet. Some ways down the hallway was Ryuji, slumped and unmoving against a wall. Signs of a struggle could be seen down the hallway, leading out of one dorm room and all the way to a common area

"Please, stop this!"

Shiemi, terrified and strained, Satan's mind cataloged as he took off without another thought.

There was something wrong, there was a plan or setup he didn't understand in the works and charging ahead was dangerous. But delaying and taking his time helped no one but his enemies, not when he could become a savage beast strong enough to tear apart carefully laid plans. Yukio would be his only back up here, and so he needed to know who he was facing as soon as possible so he could react. His dorm was old, but hopefully, the layout was similar enough that he would be able to use it as a reference point for the common room-

…Ah.

So, it was one of these sorts of scenarios, was it?

He hated dealing with these sorts of things more than any other type of scheme, plan, or tactic.

(For it was-)

The room was a mess, the walls and floor and even ceiling marred with deep scars. To the left sat the girls, Shiemi nearly kissing the floor as she doubled over in exhaustion, a tight and tiny wall of vines protecting them. They must have once taken up the entire room with the tangled mass, but even now Satan could see them withering, sick with something and their master too weak to support them much longer. Paku crouched next to her, doing her best to support the girl, a broken piece of wood that looked to be part of a chair leg her crude weapon. Izumo herself stood as tall as her shaking legs would allow her, only a single Byakko left by her side that was more mist than not.

(-it was a bitter feeling, something that he could never truly get used to, something that always hurt.)

Across from them stood people Satan had never seen before. They wore strange blue and red military-style uniforms that clearly declared some sort of unified goal. One or two seemed to be struggling and injured (so at least the children hadn't gone down easily, good) but overall it was clear that whatever fight had ensued had been incredibly one-sided. There were four of them: a frazzled looking redhead woman, an injured raven-haired man dripping blood everywhere, a giant of a brunet man, and a serious-looking woman with brown hair streaked with blond.

(And that thing was, simply…)

Satan stood and flicked a knife into his free hand, well-aware that he was the center of everyone's attention now. He let his human mannerisms drop and stared at the enemies before him, eyes cold fire as he carefully planned a way to kill them all with nothing but the handful of knives he had on him. The bleeding one smelled like a summoner who had been rendered ineffective if his injuries were anything to go by, while the redhead leaned on a jagged scythe that smelled of poison. They wouldn't be too much of a threat as they were. The huge brunet man easily ignored the small scratch on his arm, his hands wrapped in enchanted cloth that felt like a miniature ocean, and the serious-looking woman had some sort of staff and a strange sniper rifle of all things. Those two would be a problem, but they weren't the real issue. For right at the center of the enemies stood…

"So, you're a traitor, Renzo?"

(It was betrayal.)

Happy late Thanksgiving, here's a prolog to suffering.

Trust me, it's going to get pretty bad, though not for the reasons anyone thinks.