"This is an outrage!" King Paimon's fist broke the armrest of his seat. "Who the ** do these peasants think they are? That they can attack, nay, unalive a member of royalty, extended family or otherwise?!"

Multiple members of his court nodded and voiced agreement.

"We must find a way to strike back at the criminals! Set an example that they will know that they cannot ** us!"

More voices concurred.

"My liege, perhaps a more tempered course of action?" A softer voice suggested. "Too big of a scene, and they will think we're vulnerable. We should try to keep this quiet. You know what he will do if he finds out about this mess."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Paimon groaned. "A guy leads a coup against Heaven one **ing time. He thinks he can call himself Hell's High King." He scoffed. "The man can't even keep his own daughter out of her silly redemption dreams."

"Your Highness…"

"Right, fine." He waved his hand, sending a piece of paper off. "We'll keep the death of a marquis under wraps for now. But feel free to scold your imp servants a little more harshly than usual."

There were a few disgruntled noises, but most of the attendees agreed with the addendum.

"Dismissed." Paimon clapped twice in quick succession. His hand mirror and image vanished in a plume of dramatic hellfire.

…

Stella stared at the slowly rotating chandelier. There was a sphere with illustrations in the center. However, the two rings looked like an interpretation of Saturn. Each of the rings had a wire and orb revolving like a tiny moon. A bowl of soggy cereal rested on the table in front of herself.

"You want me to take care of this?" Stolas offered, holding a hand toward the bowl.

Stella slowly shook her head. "No. I'll handle it."

Stolas nodded and looked to the side. Farther along the table, a piece of paper with a royal seal was open. The contents were mostly gibberish legal-speak. The important part was closer to the end.

"We regret to inform you that Andrealphus of the Ars Goetia – Branch has ceased to exist. While we cannot replace a life so easily, we hope that this small inheritance to his next of kin will allow for room to heal and to press forward.

Sincerely,

Secretary of The Pride Ring on behalf of His Majesty Lucifer."

Stella used her spoon to stir the cereal. "Maybe I should say he deserved it, and he really did. But… he was still closer than my parents ever were. Ugh, why does everything taste like s** today?"

Stolas picked up an empty soda can. "Because you used a lemon twist instead of 2% milk."

Stella groaned and held her hands against her face.

"Hey, Dad!" Octavia strolled into the dining area. "Are you r-" She slowed her pace considerably. "What's going on?"

"Octavia…" Stolas sighed. "Something major has happened and it's making your mother feel down. Do you think you can entertain yourself today?"

"What?" Octavia spread her arms. "But Dad-"

"Please, Via?" Stolas insisted. "I can't leave her alone right now."

"You should go with her and see what she wants," said Stella.

Stolas did a double take. "Stella, are you sure? You look about as well as your breakfast tastes."

"I'll be fine." Stella forced a smile. "Besides, I have Walter with me. Right?"

Walter popped out and bowed. "Of course, Princess. I am prepared to protect you from outside threats and from yourself if necessary."

"See? I'm in good hands." Stella chewed and swallowed a spoonful of the disgusting cereal mix. "After everything you've been through, you deserve some stress-free time with our daughter. Go on and have some fun."

"Well, if you're sure." Stolas took a step back. "Just give a ring if you need anything while we're gone. Okay?"

"Of course, Stolas." Stella turned slightly. "And Via? Try not to pull your father in too many different directions. He's not as young as he used to be."

"Hey…" Stolas pretended to be insulted.

Octavia chuckled. "Okay, Mom. Will do." She held her father's hand.

"So, what was it you were asking if I was ready?" asked Stolas as they walked.

"For the meteor shower!" Octavia piped up. "You promised to show me the stars, remember?"

"Oh, right! That was today!" Stolas facepalmed. "I'll fetch the Grimoire and we'll be out there in two minutes, tops!"

Stella waved until they were out of the dining room. She sighed and grabbed her bowl. "Walter, would you please dump the rest of this? I've lost my appetite."

"Very well, Your Highness." Walter picked it up. "Shall I get you an antacid?"

"Please do." Stella turned and stood up.

…

The last page of a novel was flipped. Stella blinked twice as she held the back cover. She couldn't recall the words she had just read. She exhaled and looked over at the clock. Barely twenty minutes had passed since Stolas and Octavia had left the palace.

Stella adjusted her robe. She slowly walked to the shelf to put her book away. She stopped and looked over some of the titles. She tapped a finger against a dusty trigonometry lesson textbook.

…

"No, no, no!" Andre shook his head. "It's not a-squared plus b-squared! It's a-squared plus two-a-b plus b-squared!"

"Arrrgh!" screeched the little Stella. "What's the bloody difference?!"

…

Stella pinched her beak and shook her head. She found the spot where her finished novel belonged and slid it onto the shelf. Her eyes fell upon a tome simply titled "Botany."

…

"This is my book on plants and herbs!" Stolas the little owl bounced up and down. "Did you know that plants can hear you?"

"Really?" The peahen's eyes widened. "Tell me more."

…

"Heh." Stella's mouth trembled.

Perhaps she had read enough for one morning. She wandered in front of the widescreen TV. She grabbed the remote and sat on the sofa. The first thing that came up was a recording of a Latino soap opera. She decided to leave that for Stolas's off days and she switched the channel. The next looked like a baseball diamond, until several players started charging into a dust cloud and breaking their bats over each other's heads.

"Nah, I'm not really feeling sports today." Stella pressed the remote button again.

The third program was an intro with live actors. It looked like an edited drama about a single man searching for a life partner out of a dozen women. Curiously, all of the depicted individuals were completely human.

"Wait, do we get Earth's cable channels down here?" Stella looked between the remote and the screen. "That's strange."

She shrugged and set the remote off to the side. If there was ever a place to watch reality TV, this was it. Hours passed by, faces were zoomed in, and actors were pulled to the side to explain their own actions at various points.

"Ugh, Megal! Who are you kidding?" Stella asked the screen. "Zizzy Top clearly had the right-of-way in that pool party! Everybody can see that!" She shook her head.

A rumbling noise interrupted her critique. She blinked and looked around. Where had the time gone? She stood up and walked to the kitchen. After looking through the fridge, she pulled out a couple of rat skewers. She nibbled on the rodents and closed the refrigerator door behind her.

She pulled a cork out of a bottle of white wine and poured herself a glass. That was when a dark portal opened a few feet in her peripheral. Stolas stepped through before pulling Octavia inside.

"Oh, welcome back." Stella smiled at them. "How were Azathoth's Tears?"

Stolas fiddled with his collar. "Um, about that…"

(Earlier that same day…)

"Why don't you try out the spell today?" asked Stolas.

"Me?" Octavia's eyes practically lit up.

"Sure. Practice makes perfect." He handed over the Grimoire. His finger was on top of an open page. "Here, this one."

Octavia took hold of the spell book, inhaled deeply, then exhaled. "Ekat su ot ees zrats!"

"Very good- wait." Stolas's eyes opened wide as the portal grew and enveloped them both. "What was that last part?"

But they were already gone. Their vision was engulfed in black. For a while, there was nothing. Then, Stolas opened his eyes. He groaned, lifting his face up from a stone tile. He gasped when he looked around at a crowded street covered in hazy yellow sunlight.

"Oh… dear," he muttered.

Some passersby struggled to pull their phones out of pockets that were far too small to be functional. Stolas took the opportunity to cover himself in an afterglow. One second later, he had donned a convincing human disguise. He then held up a hand over his brow to look around.

"Octavia?" he called.

The owlet groaned at a star-plated tile a few feet away. When a guy in a heavy coat vomited on top of a corpse, Octavia yelled out and scooted away. A grumpy clown spat at her about crappy costumes. She ran along a crosswalk, narrowly dodging several cars that piled up against each other. Stolas rushed up to her and scooped her up.

"Oh, **! What's happening?!" Octavia yelled.

Stolas took a turn into an alleyway. "Easy does it, Via. Deep breaths."

Despite her father's advice, Octavia could only hyperventilate at that moment. Stolas grabbed hold of the Grimoire and laid a hand on Octavia's shoulder. In a flash of yellow, she resembled a young gender-swapped version of her father's disguise.

"There, that should avert any suspicious gazes," said Stolas.

When Octavia finally found her breath, she slumped down. "I **ed up the pronunciation again, didn't I?"

"Er, a little," admitted Stolas. "I probably should have mentioned that spell required a specific destination."

"What's more specific than the stars?" She raised her brow.

He held out both open palms. "Via, there are more stars in the universe than the number of sinners that the Exterminators have taken in total."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, crumbs."

…

While getting some water from the cooler, Moxxie's tail abruptly straightened out. He looked around in confusion. After finding nothing, he shrugged and continued about his day.

…

"Hey, my man!" A random guy in sweats and headphones squeaked up to Stolas. "You look like someone who appreciates the beats. How about you check out this self-created mix? It's the sickest new hot stuff you'll ever hear!" He shoved a CD case with the word "Demo" written in marker. "That'll be $20."

Stolas blinked twice. He cleared his throat and held his free hand against the Grimoire. His hand holding the sketchy disc went in front of the con-artist's face.

"You want to go home and rethink your life," Stolas insisted deeply.

Headphones' expression went blank, and he replied in a monotone, "Screw. You. Guys. I'm. Going. Home." His limbs moved like a robot as he walked away.

After that man was gone, Stolas threw the CD into a nearby dumpster. It landed on top of a paper notice, declaring L.A.'s water to be far too acidic for consumption. He started flipping through the Grimoire's pages. "Don't worry. I'll get us to Azathoth's Tears in no time!"

Octavia clenched her arm. "Dad, I'm so-"

"Oh emm gee!" called a woman passing the alley. "It's the famous celebrity, Alice Brinkman!"

"I'm sorry, what?" Stolas raised his brow.

A crowd immediately swarmed and tried to grab Stolas. The collision forced Stolas to lose his grip on everything. Fortunately, Octavia managed to catch the Grimoire out of the air. However, any effort to get through the wall of human flesh was met with indifferent resistance. Notepads, fingers, and phones were all taking up Stolas's personal space.

Just when the cacophony was too much to bear, a black van pulled up. A few men in black bouncer uniforms walked out. Taking the lead was a guy in a polo, holding a placard degree and blowing a whistle. Much of the crowd dispersed in disgust at the sight of the degree alone. They unceremoniously dropped Stolas onto his rear.

One of the bouncers squeezed Stolas before he could completely stand upright. He was distracted by the strength of his captor until a fat guy in a vest walked up. The back of the vest was labeled "Producer".

"Mr. Brinkman, we've been looking for you for hours!" Producer munched the contents of a bag of Tweet-Sarts. "You're supposed to be on set!"

"Pardon me, good sir." Stolas smiled politely. "I believe you have me confused for someone else."

"Hilarious, Mr. Brinkman." Producer turned around and walked toward the vehicle. "Come along now. We don't have all day!"

"No, I'm serious!" Stolas struggled as the bouncer lifted him up. "You're making a mistake!"

"Hey!" Octavia called over the crowd. "That's my father! You can't just haul him off to gawd knows where!" A second bouncer picked her up by the neck. "What the **? Let go of me!"

Stolas and Octavia were thrown into the back of the van. Each of them landed on top of an open box of junk. Before they could react, the back doors were slammed shut. Some other doors in the vehicle opened and closed. Then, it started moving around.

Octavia groaned before shuffling through the book. "I can't read the bloody pages! There's not enough light back here!"

"Which means I can't either," concluded Stolas. "Oh, I'm sorry, Starfire. I wanted to give you a little more freedom. Instead, I've brought us into another form of captivity."

"No, I'm sorry, Dad." Octavia held his hand. "I got too excited and skimmed the details. I thought I was ready to relieve you of some of your stress, but I just made you more worried."

Stolas chuckled sadly. "I think we're going in circles." He hugged her. "How about we call it even?"

"Well…" Octavia glanced into the dimly lit space.

"Hmm?" Stolas tilted his head.

"I'm not sure we can call it even." She took a deep breath. "When we get out of this, there's something I need to tell both you and Mom."

"Oh? Sounds ominous," said Stolas. "Very well, I'll wait until we all have a moment together."

…

The bouncers yanked the two out of the van. Several helpers applied makeup on the beanstalk of a man. Others shoved their bottles of L.A. water into the daughter's arms. Once they had all done sufficient poking and prodding, Producer pulled Stolas onto a spot just outside the door to the set.

"Remember, fake it 'til you make it! And if you get stuck, read the **ing teleprompters!" Producer turned on his heel. "We're live in ten, nine, eight…"

"Oh, first ugly center kiss…" Stolas massaged his temple. "I'm not a performer! I shouldn't be here!"

Octavia looked down. "Wait! I've got an idea!"

She set down the bottles in her arms. She snapped her fingers, creating several small sparks of violet flames. Every single cap melted. Then, she proceeded to toss the bottles at random spots of the studio audience. Every big splash of questionable water sent one of the humans running around in agony.

The pained individuals ran into the cameras and the teleprompters. The equipment was knocked over and started a fire along some garbage. An alarm rang out and sprinklers rained. That caused everyone else to scream in agony as their skin burned.

"Clever girl." Stolas smiled.

Stolas and Octavia ran to a part of the large room where the sprinklers didn't reach. Nobody noticed two people transform into owls. They also didn't see the big owl flip through an ornate book.

"Nruter su ot ruo ecalap htiw Allets!"

…

(Current hour…)

'I should probably be horrified that Octavia killed so many humans.' Stella's heart raced. 'And yet, all I feel right now is pride for someone else.' She smiled. "My baby's first genocide."

Octavia blushed and looked to the side.

"Despite everything else that happened, today was rather enjoyable," said Stolas.

"Yeah." Octavia nodded. "Who needs some silly stars?"

"I'm glad to hear it." Stella sipped her wine.

"Oh, Via?" Stolas looked at Octavia. "What was it you wanted to tell your mother and me?"

"Ah… that." Octavia sighed. She stood up and faced both of her parents seated on the couch. "Are you sure you want to hear it tonight?"

"If it's eating at you, you should get it off your chest as soon as possible," said Stella.

"Alright." Octavia pulled off her beanie and held it with both hands. "I killed Andrealphus."

Stella's wine glass fell to the floor and shattered. The royal peahen and owl shared a look of shock. Neither of them knew about this topic beforehand. They looked back at the standing owlet. She had her head lowered, as if waiting for judgment.

"What?" Stolas blurted out.