Moxxie was frozen. Stiff as a board. The sound of rustling feathers behind him was deafening. He took a shaky deep breath, inhaling the musty and damp Hell air. He didn't utter a word for what felt like hours, until he gained the courage to get up and out of bed. His mind was racing with millions of questions, calculations, theories, and speculations. He couldn't think strait. Pulling out of bed quietly, making sure not to wake up Millie in the process. His new white wings folded into themselves, curling inwards not to take up much space as he walked through the narrow halls. Once he reached to the single bathroom, he quickly and quietly closed the door. Turning on the light.

As Moxxie faces the mirror his wings unfold, presenting themselves in their bold glory. The intricate feathers mixed with shimmers of silver and gold.

"This—this is just..." He trailed off, turning to the side to get a better look. "This is...unreal." He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle through his nose, with a small smile becoming more noticeable. He suddenly started to think more and more. Another pit was starting to form in his stomach. And he sighed, his wings drooping slightly as he folded his arms.

"How the hell am I going to tell Millie this?" His eyes were glued to his wings, it was the only thing he could think about. He gently started to stroke his down feathers, they were soft, like a cloud even. He felt every quill he could reach, down to the covert of the wing. It actually felt nice, and relaxing with his own touch.

Suddenly, the sound of a faint yawn, and the creaking of the bathroom door broke a silence in a heartbeat. Making Moxxie jump a little.

He quickly stopped himself, and the wings perked up with his shoulders. His head cocking up quickly, and his eyes were wide like a child that had just been caught.

"Yawn...Mox? Why are you-..yawn...up so early?" Millie yawned in between sentences, her eyes still closed. She rubbed her face with her hand as she slowly swayed from left to right. "What are you doing?" She stopped mid-sentence as she pulled away her hand, blinking rapidly as her yellow eyes adjusted to the light.

He panicked, and blurted out a sentence that sort of came out on its own.

"Millie, I-I'm fine. You can go back to bed," he paused keeping his distance between himself and Millie.

"You sure..?" Her words slightly slurred, and her mind was still asleep. Like she was sleep walking…sort of.

"Yea. I'm fine Millie." He repeated again, but in a more caring and confident tone. The confidence seemed to have came out of nowhere, which surprised Millie, but it didn't startle the half asleep imp. She was slightly hesitant on responding to that.

"Alright." She sighed and turned around, closing the door behind her. Heading back to bed, like Moxxie said. He took a deep sigh of relief, and his wings dropped to a more comfortable position. Leaning his back onto the bathroom walls, he could feel his wings slowly retract back into themselves as he began to relax.

He perked up and his eyebrows furrowed at the odd tingling feeling of the retraction. He took a few steps away from the wall, uncrossing his arms, letting them dangle to their sides. Looking in the mirror once again, his wings were gone. Like they were non-existent. But he knew they were still there. Even out of view, for now. As he walked out of the bathroom, putting back on his loose shirt, his eyes glanced back at the book.

His mind was set on a new goal. He needed answers. Which meant he had to make a little field trip to Stolas. He took the book off of the counter and headed out, grabbing the car keys in the process.

Before Moxxie leaves, he hesitates. Looking back at Millie one last time. Was this really the right option? To leave her without notice? But he needed to figure out what is happening to him.

That was the main objective.

Objective? Why was he suddenly thinking like this was just some stupid mission?

Moxxie shook his head a little, and quickly made his way to the fridge, peeled off a sticky note, and put it next to her bed stand. He leaned over and his face softened, kissing her on the forehead.

"I'll be back, Millie." He said lightly, pulling away from the bed, and making his was to Stolas' Mansion. Or was it a Palace? Oh what the hell, its just big!

Stolas on the other hand, was trying to relax the best he could, laying on his luxury red velvet couch with a glass of the hardest cocktail mix he could find.

Until he heard a ring at the main entrance.

Stolas sighed, and set down his wine. Making his way to the front, expecting Blitzo or a random imp at the door.

"What do you possibly-" Stolas cuts himself off. His thick English accent was very present, while having a smooth rasp to it. Like he had just woken up from a nap. Taking a very long look not what was Moxxies front, but his back. His wings were out again. Lightly folded back, with the occasional ruffles.

He paused.

"Your one of Blitzy's, am I correct?" He questioned, leaning on the doorframe of the mansion.

"Y-yes, Mr.-"

"Goetia." Stolas interrupted him. "But you can just call me Stolas, since you are one of Blitzo's, it's nothing more than mutual."

Moxxie takes a small pause, surprised by his strait forwardness. He was a Prince of Hell, what did expect?

"Okay," Moxxie deadpanned. "Anything that can help with….." he gestured to his wings, that lightly flared out, presenting themselves in the dark shadow of the mansion. "This?"

Stolas makes a pretty odd surprised noise. Like the middle of a hoot and a crow. His eyes locked onto Moxxies wings like they where something of myth.

Something that shouldn't have happened.

"Those….that—THOSE ARE REAL?!" He exclaimed in a shocked manner. He didn't give Moxxie enough time to respond before he dragged the little imp into the mansion with ease. He set Moxxie down lightly in the dead center of the foyer, his cold feet touching the bright marble floor.

"My..My..My, this is certainly—unexpected. But, I jest, I did think you were quite off of normal." Stolas chuckled to himself, circling Moxxie. Analyzing every little detail. How his eyes darted from left to right, the small sweat bubbles forming on his forehead, even to the way his hands twitched. It seemed Moxxie was unaware that this was even possible. Unaware for what he really was.

That wasn't good.

"this shouldn't be happening, not yet anyways." Stolas started to pace and mumble to himself, only allowing Moxxie to hear the words that were in earshot. "Why can't he just remember though? Was it something from the book—no. There isn't a spell that can do that. Maybe something triggered—but what?" Stolas continued to pace. Getting no answers was something Stolas hated. He always had answers, but Angels? No. That was in his element of expertise. But it had been so long…could Moxxie really be repeating history……again?

"So you don't know? Don't you?" He interrupted the silence once more, placing his hands behind his back.

"Don't know what?" Moxxie was confused on why Stolas was suddenly being so cryptic, like he wasn't meant to say whatever he was going to say in public. Moxxie sudden got that odd burst of confidence, and spoke up clearly. No more stutters, or doubts. Just confidence. Where was that coming from? The feeling of being sure was always so rare for his mind. It was so clear in his head, like a line of bright white string leading him. He was gaining something he clearly lacked. But how?

"Stolas, tell me what's going on with me." His wings lightly flared out again, rustling with his shoulder movements. Moxxies sudden burst of strait forwardness had made Stolas' hypothesis take a jump forward.

There was a long pause, Stolas sighed deeply, before delivering the final explaination.

"Moxxie, your a Fallen Angel."

There was a long, deafening pause.

"Im a……what?" Moxxies wings had folded back into themselves, curling in with his uncertainty.

"A fallen angel. You know, wings—uh…well….there isn't much to talk about." Stolas said calmly. Had he dealt with this before? Maybe he had a past with one? Or being one?

"So you're saying, I was an angel…in the past?" Moxxie was in disbelief, wasn't he supposed to hate angels? Heaven? It did make some sense, how he wouldn't die when he was supposed to. Like being strangled, or crushed by boulders and rocks. But he always thought it was because he was just hard headed, and a demon of course.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Stolas said calmly, and was there just a slight hint of……reassurance? Now this was really something he needed to panic about. But he couldn't freak out about it, having a mental breakdown infront of Stolas would certainly be the end of him.

There was another long pause. Only broken by the sound of rustling feathers.

"What now?" Moxxie spoke up with a hint of determination in his voice. "I mean, we can't tell anyone about this, right?"

"Certainly not, you would be hunted and tortured as what I fear." Stolas put his hand over the bridge of his beak, rubbing it for reassurance.

"Then what do we do then? Are there any……..like me?" Saying the words 'Like me' were almost poison in his mouth. All his life he beloved he was just some random demon from the Wrath Ring. That he didn't have a bigger purpose or roll in life. Reality set in on Moxxie, and it was something he now had to fear.

Stolas sighed, picking up his phone. He had this indescribable expression that screamed 'Should I really be doing this?'. After deciding, he spoke up.

"We are going to meet an old friend." He had a tone of nostalgia, like he had a history with this so-called friend of his.

"Who exactly?"

"Jophiel,"