It was getting warm. Way too warm. Too hot to rot away at home. Hell, even Andy's father would hop out of his den from time to time for an outside cigarette break in the moonlight, or a supply run to the local market. School was out, so all that was left was to aimlessly wander the streets, terrorizing local gun shows and shooting competitions. The hell-raising trio has oftentimes been escorted out of such events due to complications arising from the questionable behavior of one certain individual.

"You shot the guy's burdenbeast."

The tender, warm breeze gently assaulted Andy's tired face as the three of them laid beneath a peach tree, after a daring break-in into some lonely orchard. Such a perfect spot, overlooking a vast, endless wheat field. The golden ocean moved with the wind, shimmering in the moonlight. It was a quiet, peaceful night. As peaceful as Lateran nights can be.

"Okay, no, look, I didn't shoot anyone's anything!"

Lemuel turned to Andy, her eyes closed and a proud grin on her face. The face of someone with no regrets.

"I was aiming for the bottles. Not my fault the bullet ran off to the side, happens to the best-"

"The bullet "ran off to the side" three consecutive times."

Mostima cut in to point out a crucial detail. She seemed a tiny bit pissed, now that their gun show escapade had been cut short. Her halo dimmed and Andy could tell she was lightly annoyed. Sankta intuition.

"And the thing wasn't even anywhere near the bottles..."

"My hand must've slipped!"

"And it squealed kinda loudly after the first hit..."

"The noise caught me off guard so I fired two more! Big deal!"

"Caught off guard? Not with that shit eating grin on your face."

"But I was, pinky promise!"

As a giggling fit overcame the redhead, Andy and Mostima exchanged a glance of powerlessness. They knew arguing was pointless, anyway. Besides, had they stayed at that packed, loud gun show, they wouldn't have made their way to this spot, outside the city walls. A serene, calm place. As calm as it can be, with Lem in the vicinity.

"Besides, we can just make our own shooting gallery. No stupid rules, no, burdenbeasts, no grumpy, old men."

She turned to Andy with a wide grin and sparkly eyes.

"Please?~ I know you're carrying."

Andy felt a weird sensation in his stomach, almost like a punch to the gut. He's already forgotten that he had told her about his dad's gun. His patron firearm. A small, snub-nosed .38 revolver. Two or three years ago, it mysteriously disappeared from his dad's den. Cover story for the abduction being that, "Oh, well, sorry, dad, but you drank a lot of that weird apple juice and then threw it out the window. I saw some liberi pick it up later."

Since then, Andy's been keeping it hidden underneath the floorboards under his bed. As much as he wants to deny it, he took it from his father not only for fear of him hurting himself, but also because of an infinitely more selfish reason. It was a gun. A real, working, functioning gun. The love for firearms had been instilled into Andy at a very young age, when he's just met Lem. The hyperactive moron would often babble about wanting to own this or that model, shoot this or that teacher, blow up this or that classroom. Guns were a staple of Lateran culture. A sign of status. If you had a patron gun, you ruled, man.

"Pleaaaaaase~?"

She kept on nagging, pulling on his sleeve and giving him puppy dog eyes. Mostima, with her head propped up against her hand, kept silent, watching the situation unfold with a hint of amusement in her ever so calm expression.

"I... I mean, yeah, I have it on me, but it's not like I've any ammo, that's way too expens-"

Andy tried reasoning with the redhead, but she immediately reached into her pockets, spilling a cascade of lead right in front of him. His eyes widened.

"No worries, I borrowed some from that old geezer!~ .38 special, right?"

Andy kept glancing between her smug grin and the bullets. His mind was torn in astonishment, both shocked and impressed.

"I..."

He took a moment to process just how much cash was laying in front of him, in the form of small, lead, quiet pills.

"I mean... Since it's stolen, anyway..."

"Yeah!~"

A gunshot echoed through the night, the sound carried away by the gentle breeze. Three innocent, little souls stood by the sturdy, wooden fence surrounding the peach orchard, passing around a loaded gun. No matter how many firearms safety lessons they had, their number one rule wasn't to "keep the muzzle away from anything you don't intend to shoot" or to "never, under any circumstances fire at another Sankta". No, their number one rule was to always have fun.

"Ha! Domed!"

Lemuel laughed and cocked back the hammer, after yet another direct hit. The tin cans and bottles propped up on the fence stood no chance. Andy couldn't help but smile at the sight of his friend chanting religious incantations and firing off cylinder after cylinder into the vast darkness of the night. After she's had her fill, she passed the gun along. Andy's shot hit the neck right off a bottle. Lemuel's shattered the entire thing. Mostima missed completely. A snort of suppressed laughter arose from the two as she handed the gun back to the redhead.

"Mmm. Yeah, keep that up, real nice. You're gonna make a fine psychopathic gunman one day, Lem. I bet you'd look real nice with horns and a tail."

Mostima couldn't help but throw in a snarky remark. How brave of her to insult someone with questionable mental stability and a gun in their hand.

"Oh? Oh, yeah? Oh, I'll show you just how psychopathic I can get, Andy hold this."

With a maniacal grin, she threw the gun over to him and promptly flung herself at Mostima, knocking her off her feet and sending them both rolling down the hill. Andy was used to their violent displays of affection by now, so he didn't pay it much attention. He sat back against the fence and stared off at the vast, windswept wheat fields.

Alone, again. Was it selfish of him to constantly want to feel like he belongs somewhere? Was it selfish to want to stop time at this exact moment and never let it flow any further? He was afraid of it all. Changes, the future, his life's path. A path to be set, but how?

With each day he felt more and more out of place, even in the company of the people closest to him. He felt like they were moving forward at a certain pace that he just couldn't keep up with. And what did he have, other than them? A futureless life and a complete failure of a father. No money to study along them in Laterano and absolutely no way to move abroad. Where would he even go?

Kazimierz? Their language's a doozy, with all their ł's and ó's.

Siracusa? Despite the nice postcards, it's all rain and crime. Has to be.

Ursus? To die in some originium mining facility, with black crystals piercing his lungs? No, thank you.

Yan? Or maybe even Lungmen, huh? For a mere half a million of their blue, silky currency, maybe he'd manage to buy himself a one way ticket and a broom closet to live in. In forty years, maybe.

...

A dark thought crossed his mind. A reality dreamt off a poster.

The land where it all began. Where war was the one constant keeping it all together and peace felt out of place.

Kazdel.

What a strange name. A name Andy's been thinking about ever since he's heard about the conflict. A conflict over what, exactly? He didn't know much, just that a group of devils didn't like how the other group of fiends in charge was thinking, so they decided to organize a good ol' coup.

That's all.

Such a dumb reason to blow an entire war over. Still, it had to be deeper than that, since Laterano of all countries decided to intervene. A holy intervention… Such a great cause. Peacekeeping, they say. Despite that, it had to be a real devil hunting safari, right? A childish dream brought to reality, with heroes born on the battlefield, talked about all over Terra...

A purpose to serve.

A place to be.

"The only lawful thing to do."

A certain future, with all the cash and recognition.

And his own service, patron gun…

Just a year in hell, only to secure himself an eternal spot in heaven.

As the hoarse, tired voices of the two girls climbing back up the hill reached his ears, he couldn't make out what they were saying. Everything was silent.

He's already made up his mind.