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V finally arrives at his desired destination, standing before the imposing Heaven Embassy crowned by a commanding watchtower. The structure looms elevated and exquisite, its architectural details a testament to both grandeur and secrecy. With a tenacious yet alert demeanour, he reaches for the door handle, its cool metal surface failing to the touch. The heavy door creaks open reluctantly, revealing only a sliver of the enigmatic interior beyond. V, fueled by uncertainty and inquisitiveness, gingerly peeks inside, his eyes adapting to the subtle play of shadows and light that dance within the dimly lit space. The air is pregnant with the unknown, and every inch of the room holds the promise of unveiling unknown long kept secret.
V's voice, a mere whisper in the vast silence, breaks free into nothingness with a simple, 'Hello.' Yet, instead of scattering into the void, the word abides, taking on a life of its own. It echoes through the space, bouncing off unrecognised walls and reverberating like a ghostly chorus. Each repetition adds a layer of resonance, creating a haunting chorale that hangs in the air, recasting a lone greeting into an intangible symphony that seems to rebel the bounds of the physical space in which it was uttered.
V cautiously pushes open the heavy wooden door, its hinges lamenting softly in protest. The air inside the embassy hangs still, the everyday hum of activity replaced by an eerie silence. The spineless echo of his footsteps resonates through the empty corridors as he makes his way to the front desk, each step a reminder of the dereliction that surrounds him. Dust particles dance in the muted sunlight screening through the windows, casting a overcast glimmer on the deserted space. The reception area, once a hub of bustling liveliness, now stands as a ghostly testament to the scarcity of life. With a sense of apprehension settling over him, V approaches the vacant front desk, its polished surface marred only by the sequestration that envelopes the once-vibrant embassy.
"Hello?" The words lingered in the silence, a ghostly whisper. V glanced around, shivering slightly. "Creepy..." he commented, feeling an unsettling presence in the air.
V approached the front desk, finding only a solitary bell. With a delicate tap, the bell resonated through the quiet space. At that very moment, as if summoned by an unseen force, a golden scroll and a feathered ink pen descended from above, gracefully presenting themselves to him. The air hummed with evasive energy, leaving V in wonder of the bewitched display before him.
"Oh, okay..." V wavers for a moment, then signs the scroll with a hint of reticence "Also, creepy." The parchment, along with the feather, mysteriously lifts into the air, dancing for a concise moment before evaporating without a trace. The twin doors, ostensibly propelled by an unseen force, glide open, revealing the dimly lit meeting room. V cautiously steps inside, welcomed only by shadows and an eerie silence that hangs in the air. The room appears empty, yet a subtle anticipation suggests otherwise.
"Uh...hello? Is anyone here?" V's voice echoes through the room, carrying a note of uncertainty. Just as the words dissipate into the still air, the lights flicker to life, revealing the enigmatic meeting room in its entirety. At the far end stand two figures, bathed in the sudden illumination.
A stern-looking exorcist lieutenant, Lute, locks eyes with V, her expression unreadable. Nearby, the imposing figure of Adam, the formidable leader of the Angel Army, casually gobbles a rib in his hand. The clatter of bones hitting a plate punctuates the otherwise noiseless room.
" Holy shit!" V freaks out at the sight of Adam
" 'Sup" Adam says casually
V stumbled backwards, taken aback by the unforeseen entrance of two angels into the room. Swiftly recovering his composure, he brushed himself off and straightened his stance, persistent to make a formal introduction.
"Hello, I'm Jihyun Kim, though most people call me V. My master thought it would be a good idea for us to meet," he said with a friendly smile.
"Yeah, I know," Adam said casually, unfazed by the unusual encounter.
V cleared his throat and continued, "Okay, well..." as Adam proceeded to devour his rib with the efficiency of a buzzsaw
V extended his hand in a friendly gesture, "It's nice to meet you."
Adam reciprocated with enthusiasm, reaching over for a handshake. However, as their hands met, V's shock was palpable as Adam's hand slipped through his, revealing the holographic nature of the encounter. V recoiled in surprise, visibly freaked out by the unexpected revelation.
Adam couldn't contain his amusement, exclaiming, "Ha! I got you!" He turned to Lute, eagerly asking, "Did you see that?"
Lute nodded once, acknowledging the situation.
Adam chuckled at V's bewilderment. "Ha. Good shit."
V, still trying to process the revelation, stammered, "Uh...so, wait. You aren't here?" His confusion lingered as he attempted to grasp the concept of Adam's holographic existence.
"No, you think I'd come down there?" He laughs" I mean, I dig the vibe, totally, your tunes are pretty hardcore, don't get me wrong. But! it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is just so 'eugh,' you know?" Adam chuckles" Gross."
"Got it. So, I'm thrilled we've got this chance to connect. There's a project I've been brewing, and I'm itching to discuss it with you—" V started saying but was interrupted.
Adam's fingers gently alighted upon V's lips, orchestrating a symphony of silence that enveloped them in a momentary hush. "Hey there," he uttered, his voice a soothing cadence, "let's not hasten through this. Why don't we savour the chance to unravel the layers of who we are? Perhaps indulge in a leisurely repast? Are the stirrings of hunger dancing within you? Fear not, I have the remedy ready for you."
In the dimly lit room, the tantalizing aroma of perfectly cooked ribs wafted through the air, creating an irresistible ambience. Adam, the mastermind behind the culinary illusion, extended a carefully arranged plate, laden with succulent ribs that glistened with an almost tangible savoury allure. The holographic display played tricks on the eyes, making each rib appear more delectable than the last.
A mischievous twinkle danced in Adam's eyes as he presented his creation to V. "Here's my personal favourite. You'll love it," he declared, savouring the anticipation of the impending prank.
V, a curious mix of bemusement and hunger, eagerly reached out to grasp a piece of the tempting feast. However, his hand passed effortlessly through the holographic illusion, the flickering ribs playing a capricious game with the laws of reality. The room echoed with Adam's hearty laughter, the triumphant sound mingling with the holographic spectacle.
"I got you again, bitch!" Adam exclaimed with unrestrained mirth, the echoes of his laughter intertwining seamlessly with the mesmerizing dance of holographic ribs. "Absolutely fuckin' hilarious!" The room seemed to reverberate with the shared amusement, turning the culinary prank into an unforgettable experience.
As Adam's laughter resonated through the air like a cascade of uproarious waves, V responded with a restrained, unamused chuckle, a subtle counterpoint to Adam's hyperbolic glee. His eyes betrayed a distinct lack of enjoyment, overshadowed by an unmistakable hint of vexation. The holographic ribs continued their ephemeral dance, fizzing at the touch, and V's small, humourless chuckle lingered in the air like a discordant note in an otherwise lively melody. The atmosphere, while filled with laughter, carried an undercurrent of tension as V's subtle discontent clashed with Adam's raucous amusement.
Returning to the Mystic Hotel Messenger, Saeran calls together the employees and residents to address the concerns surrounding their misleading commercial. Within this gathering, Zen playfully engages in banter with Jaehee, who good-naturedly laughs it off as a light-hearted joke.
"Given V's current focus on critical matters, we've decided to take the lead in crafting a new commercial that authentically reflects his vision and the collaborative spirit of our team. To jumpstart this initiative, we're actively seeking the perfect camera to encapsulate the very essence of our shared goals" Saeran turns to Jumin, prompting a thoughtful response. "Jumin?"
Jumin, with a snap of his fingers, conjures up a camera for Saeran. However, to Saeran's dismay, the camera materializes as a folding-type, vintage piece from the 1930s, and to make matters worse, there are no recording films available from that era. Saeran looks at the antiquated device with a mix of disbelief and unamusement, his expression saying it all.
Saeran, puzzled, inquired, "A video camera?"
"Hmm," Jumin responded, contemplating the question with a thoughtful expression.
Despite his strong aversion to modern technology, Jumin obliges Saeran's request. He snaps his fingers once more, conjuring up a video camera that appears well-worn, with various parts seemingly held together by pieces of tape
"Okay, let's dive in!" Saeran declares resolutely
The camera captures the lively bar scene, zooming in on Jaehee as she skillfully plays with her bomb, script in hand. Across is Zen exudes a captivating presence. With a swift whirr, the camera adjusts, ensuring a sharp focus on the intriguing interaction unfolding between the two.
"Let the show begin!" Saeran's voice echoed, a sharp shout slicing through the air
Jaehee meticulously scans the lines on the script, drawing it closer for a thorough read, every word etching itself into her focused gaze.
"Step into the Mystic Hotel Messenger. How may I assist you today?"
"I've been a bit naughty, and I can't help but think a charming, confident someone could playfully guide me back on the right path to redemption. Are you up for the challenge?"
Jaehee fights to stifle her laughter, regaining composure before reattempting the script with a composed demeanour.
"Well, you come—"
"Oh, yes!" Zen moaned
"to the right place." Jaehee maintains her composure for a moment, delivering her lines with calm precision, only to succumb to a sudden fit of maniacal laughter. " LOL, sorry but I can't help it!"
Frustrated, Saeran abruptly halts the recording, his patience worn thin by the unexpected twists in the scene.
"Cut! Zen, tone down the allure, and Jaehee let's strive for a more genuine performance without the script as a barrier, please," Saeran asserts with a hint of frustration.
"Alright, I'll give it a shot, but heads up, I have a knack for forgetting anything deemed important in just a second," Jaehee admits with a wry smile.
Zen smirks, breaking from the script, "Well, we could improv this, baby cakes." He leans in, getting closer to Jaehee's face, and with a playful tone, he adds, "Rrawwr," purring seductively.
Jaehee bursts into uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down her face. In the midst of her amusement, she playfully tosses her bomb from behind, causing a small explosion that adds an unexpected twist to the scene.
Jaehee, still chuckling, manages a playful "Whoops" as the aftermath of the explosion adds a touch of chaos to the moment.
Returning to V's meeting with Adam, V appears visibly bored, propping himself on his elbows while half-heartedly listening to Adam's exaggerated boasts about himself and his sex life.
Adam recounts his gig with animated flair, "So, I'm rockin' this gig, right? And outta nowhere, this virtue chick is eyeing the drummer. I'm like, 'Do you even know who I am? I'm fuckin' Adam, the original dick!'" He dramatically points down the table to emphasize his point. "All dicks descend from me. Drummer dick? No way! I'm the Dick-fuckin' master!" Lute shakes her head in disbelief as Adam, undeterred, proudly declares, "So, we ended up hooking up, and it was epic. How 'bout your weekend?" He casually takes a messy bite of ribs, awaiting a response.
V's eyes widened with sudden realization, a flicker of understanding igniting in their depths as they connected the elusive dots.
"Hold on, your name is Adam? Like the first man Adam? So, does that mean you... Oh."
The puzzle pieces fell into place for V, a cascade of grasp washing over him. A nuanced wince contorted V's features as the likely explanation behind his master Lilith's departure from Adam became evident.
In a hushed tone, V muttered, "That explains a lot."
Adam, revelling in his self-proclaimed glory, proudly declares, "I know. I fucking rock," holding a rockstar pose for emphasis.
V, choosing to brush off the awkwardness, smoothly transitions to the matter at hand.
"Well, Adam, sir. Mr. Adam, sir," he begins, steering the conversation back to a more serious tone.
Adam's lips curled into a self-assured smirk as he deftly cut in, arrogantly declaring, 'Call me, Dickmaster.'
V, ever the astute observer, took a moment to size up Adam. 'Adam, you exude an air of sharpness, a well-defined stand-up demeanour,' he began, his words carrying a weight of discernment. A fleeting pause hung in the air, during which Adam idly picked at his teeth, an act performed with a calculated nonchalance.
'Uh-huh,' Adam replied, his tone indifferent, yet emanating a subtle air of confidence.
Undeterred, V pressed on, his words now laced with a mix of admiration and acknowledgement. 'And I recognize you, not merely as the leader of the angels, but as a visionary force. You transcend mere intellectual prowess; you're a revolutionary, a true genius!' Each carefully chosen word served as a brushstroke, vividly painting the portrait of Adam's influential presence within the unfolding narrative.
A sly smirk played on Adam's lips as he retorted, 'I mean, your words, babe.'
Charlie, ever the astute observer, remarked, 'Someone who would truly relish branding his identity on something.'
Adam, with an infectious enthusiasm, chimed in, 'Absolutely adore slapping my name on things! It's the best damn feeling!'
Sealing the conversation with a touch of dramatic flair, Charlie proclaimed, 'It's the remedy to our most formidable challenge!'
Adam, his grin widening, interjected with a cheeky quip, 'Oh, Herpes. Yeah, that's a real thorn in the side,' injecting a dose of irreverent humour that momentarily lightened the weight of the discussion.
V vehemently rejects the notion, exclaiming, 'No! Our... other paramount predicament.'
Adam, feigning innocence, pondered aloud, 'Oh...uh..ugly people? Perhaps math? Global Warming? No, scratch that, it's Earth's quandary.'
A lingering silence enveloped the room as V cast a deadpan glance in Adam's direction, his annoyance palpable at his apparent obliviousness.
Undeterred, Adam rambled on, 'Ummm...' His uncertainty hung in the air, leaving an anticipatory pause as the weight of the unresolved issue loomed over the conversation like a perplexing riddle waiting to be unravelled.
Back at the hotel, an unexpected tension suffused the air as Yoosung, driven by an senseless vendetta against a minuscule insect, embarked on a foolhardy pursuit. His first lunge fell short of its mark, initiating a frenzied series of erratic jabs that verged on the comically ludicrous. Saeran, observing the chaotic spectacle unfolding before him in silence, eventually deemed it essential to intervene with a commanding voice.
"Stab! Stab! Stab!" Yoosung persisted, seemingly lost in his own determined frenzy, oblivious to the deviation from the prearranged script.
An exasperated Saeran interjected, attempting to rein in Yoosung's overly enthusiastic assault. "Alright, Yoosung. Yoosung. Yoosung!" his tone escalated in urgency. "Your line now is, 'Behold our impeccably pristine rooms,' got it?"
For a moment, Yoosung appeared bewildered, but as Saeran's words sank in, a determined spark flickered in his eyes. "Got it. I'm ready."
Saeran, with a determined "Action!" set the scene in motion. However, as the word left his lips, instead of delivering his scripted line, Yoosung inexplicably froze in place. His unblinking stare pierced through the camera, devoid of any expression or movement. Saeran, panels away, exchanged a puzzled glance with Zen, who curiously peered into the bizarre tableau.
As the director called for action, Yoosung, instead of delivering the line, froze in place, locking eyes with the camera in an eerie, unblinking stare. Saeran panels away, a perplexed expression crossing his face, while Zen cautiously peeks in. The camera zooms in on Yoosung's blank gaze, with ominous shrinking pupils, sending a shiver down Zen's spine as he slowly backs away, clearly disturbed by the unsettling scene.
Yoosung, snapping out of his trance, swiftly returned to his cheerful self with a giggle. "How was that?"
A bemused Saeran remarked, "Yoosung, your part is to deliver the line, not audition for a horror flick. Let's take it from the top once more."
"Ok!" Yoosung chirped, seemingly undeterred by the perplexing glitch in his performance.
As Saeran once again called for "Action!", Yoosung froze yet again, leaving Saeran irritated and Zen cautiously approaching, unable to fathom the peculiar turn of events.
Zen, wearing a smug expression, couldn't resist adding a touch of mischief. In a whispered aside, he remarked, "You're excelling, Ran-Ran."
Saeran, visibly irritated by the unexpected turn of events, abruptly called, "Cut! Okay, let's see if we can enhance it during post-production."
Zen, unable to hold back his scepticism, questioned, "Do you comprehend the implications of that directive?"
Saeran, fueled by a surge of frustration, shot back angrily, "I'll figure it out!" The tension in the air lingered as Saeran grappled with the challenges of the situation, leaving the scene poised for an uncertain resolution.
In the dimly lit room, Saeran sat slouched in front of a malfunctioning TV, plagued by the poorly edited shots of the commercial playing before him. A guttural groan of frustration escaped his lips as he tried to make sense of the chaotic display.
Just as the disheartened Saeran contemplated the mishmash of scenes, the door swung open, revealing Jumin's composed figure entering the room. The rich timbre of Jumin's voice cut through the gloom as he observed, "Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hmm?"
Saeran, now visibly perturbed, muttered with disdain, "Ugh, this nuisance... Why are you even here?" The tension in the room intensified, casting a shadow over the troubled editing session as the enigmatic Jumin stepped further into the dimly lit space.
Jumin, with an air of detached sympathy, took a seat on the couch next to Saeran.
"I pity you," Jumin nonchalantly stated, his words hanging in the air like a subtle jab. Unbeknownst to Saeran, Jumin's shadow seemed to slip out of his form, reappearing behind the couch and making mocking laughing gestures.
"I came here because I also want to make V and—" Jumin began, but his shadow abruptly disappeared, leaving the sentence hanging in suspense. The calculated pause heightened the tension in the room.
As Jumin continued, "—V care for you, so I care for you the same," a veiled expression of concern masked by his usual composed demeanour, Saeran's irritation grew. The subtle insults and veiled motives grated on Saeran's nerves, prompting him to stand up abruptly. With a swift motion, he turned the camera toward Jumin, determined to confront the source of his mounting frustration. The room crackled with an unsettling energy as the lens captured the intensity of the unfolding confrontation.
Saeran aimed the camera at Jumin, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And here we have Jumin, the self-centred individual of—"
Suddenly, the video feed glitched violently, the colours shifting from green to red, and Saeran dropped the static camera in surprise.
Saeran: UGH!
Jumin, unfazed, calmly remarked, "I wouldn't dare try that. This countenance wasn't designed for the television screen." He gestured towards his own visage, his expression unwavering despite Saeran's failed attempt at capturing his antics on camera.
Saeran approaches him with a piercing glare.
"That's sufficient. I don't care who or what you claim to be. If you're truly V's supposed best friend, you'll make this happen because I won't tolerate overseeing an empty hotel, will I? Insolent individual," Saeran said, glaring at Jumin.
Saeran stormed back to his chair, his irritation evident in the tight set of his jaw and the sharp, quick movements of his hands. The air around him crackled with tension as he brooded over the recent exchange with Jumin.
Meanwhile, Jumin, with an uncharacteristically serious expression, approached Saeran. Each measured step seemed deliberate, echoing the gravity of the situation. His normally composed demeanour betrayed an undercurrent of concern, a rare vulnerability in the usually stoic man.
As Jumin drew closer, the ambient light in the room caught the subtle nuances of his expression—the furrowed brow, the piercing intensity in his eyes. The silence hung heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Jumin halted a respectful distance from Saeran's chair.
The atmosphere between them became charged, a palpable energy that lingered in the air. The room felt small as if it couldn't contain the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved tension. Whatever awaited in this interaction held the potential to reshape their dynamic, and the anticipation was tangible.
"Very well. I propose a deal. Let's come to an agreement." Jumin said as he extended a hand towards Saeran.
Saeran dismissed Jumin's statement, convinced it was a jest. If only he could find it within himself to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Hah, do you really believe I'd be foolish enough to strike a bargain with a creature like you?"
Jumin's eyes rolled with a subtle exasperation, a physical manifestation of his impatience with the situation. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, carrying a mix of frustration and a touch of resignation. His serious demeanour persisted, but there was a slight softening around the edges as he began to articulate the terms of his proposed deal.
"I'm not after your soul," he stated, a trace of dry humour lacing his words, "just a straightforward arrangement. I'm doing this mainly for Jihyun, and, well, for your benefit too." His tone carried a sincerity that hinted at an underlying motive beyond the immediate circumstances.
The air seemed to ease slightly as Jumin continued, outlining the conditions of the agreement. "All I ask in return is that you never compel me to deal with this frivolous television technology ever again." His request held a touch of lightheartedness, revealing a more human side to the usually stoic businessman. The tension in the room loosened, if only slightly, as the terms of the deal hung in the air, awaiting Saeran's response.
Saeran began to reconsider the idea of letting Jumin handle the task for him. Doubts crept in, making him question whether this was the right course of action.
Jumin's admission carried a rare vulnerability, exposing a layer beneath his usual composed exterior. The earnestness in his eyes revealed a genuine concern for his best friend, Jihyun. The weight of responsibility and loyalty to V seemed to shape his words as he spoke with sincerity.
"I can't bear the thought of witnessing Jihyun's dreams being shattered," Jumin confessed, his voice softer than usual, betraying the depth of his emotions. "The idea of my best friend's selfless aspirations going to waste is something I can't stomach."
The air in the room seemed to shift, the gravity of Jumin's words hanging between them. It was a plea that transcended the boundaries of their disagreements and differences. Jumin, in that moment, sought a common ground, a shared understanding that went beyond the immediate conflict. His vulnerability created a connection, bridging the gap between them as he continued, "Saeran, would you consider making a deal with me to prevent that from happening?" The question lingered, carrying the weight of unspoken implications and the potential for a resolution that could redefine their relationship.
Saeran cast a fleeting glance away, contemplating his decision for a brief moment before finally making up his mind.
Saeran sighed, relenting, "Fine."
Saeran's response was silent but decisive. He reached for the camera, his movements reflecting a contemplative calm. His gaze met Jumin's, and for a moment, a silent understanding passed between them. Without a word, Saeran handed over the contentious piece of technology.
Jumin, in response, accepted the camera with a nod of acknowledgement. As he held the device in his hand, he met Saeran's eyes once more. With a swift and deliberate clap of his hands, he conjured a sense of finality. The camera dissolved into nothingness, the conflicting object erased from their immediate reality.
"Now then!" Jumin exclaimed a hint of relief in his tone.
With a snap of his fingers, Jumin transformed the hotel into a film set, the staff morphing into a 50s-style film crew. Ink demons materialized, adding an eerie yet captivating touch as they served as additional background characters. The once mundane surroundings now pulsated with an otherworldly energy, setting the stage for the unique endeavour ahead.
Saeran's sudden shift in demeanour caught the room off guard. His words, laced with determination and a hint of unconventional energy, signalled a departure from the tension that had dominated the atmosphere moments ago. As if embracing a newfound spirit, he continued, "Okay, team."
In a surprising turn of events, Saeran's clothes underwent a transformation, seamlessly changing into attire reminiscent of the 1950s. The sudden shift in wardrobe added an element of whimsy to the situation, leaving the team momentarily stunned.
"Let's create a fucking commercial," Saeran declared with a grin, the change in language underscoring the unorthodox approach he was proposing. The room, now infused with a mix of curiosity and amusement, prepared to embark on an unexpected creative endeavour. The tension from before was replaced with an air of anticipation, as the team contemplated the unconventional journey ahead.
Back to V, V's expression turned exasperated as Adam launched into another of his sexist rants about women and masculinity. The weariness in V's eyes spoke volumes, silently reflecting his frustration with Adam's narrow-minded views.
"As the fifth dinner date unfolded, and she once again assumed he would cover the expenses, he couldn't shake off the irony." Adopting a playful tone, Adam teased, 'I thought we were aiming for equality here,' injecting a subtle jab at the mismatch in their shared expectations.
"NO! Our mutual challenge of overpopulation in Hell!"V exclaimed, his eye twitching from annoyance. The gravity of the situation makes his frustration palpable.
"Oh, well, that's not an issue! We have that situation under control!" Adam's casual tone conveyed a surprising confidence as if addressing Hell's overpopulation issue was just another routine task. The unexpected twist in the conversation drew intrigued glances from the others in the room.
Turning to Lute, Adam continued, unfazed, "Lute, how many demonic entities have you vanquished this year?" The question hung in the air, adding a layer of dark humour to the discussion. Lute, seemingly accustomed to the nonchalant nature of the inquiry, responded with a grin and a number that surpassed expectations.
Lute's confident response echoed in the room, adding an unexpected layer of competence to the conversation. "Took down a solid 275 this year, sir," she declared with a self-assured nod.
"275? Woah! Impressive! Awesome job, danger tits!" Adam exclaimed, his response blending a mix of praise and a touch of irreverent camaraderie. The room initially focused on the gravity of Hell's overpopulation issue, now found itself unexpectedly immersed in the banter between Adam and Lute.
V's sombre tone sliced through the laughter, casting a shadow of gravity over the room. "Not awesome. Those sinners are the constituents of my master, do you comprehend?" His words bore the weight of profound responsibility, underscoring the intricate link between the tormented souls in Hell and a higher, formidable force.
Adam, unfazed by the shift in tone, responded with a casual, "Oh yeah. That must suck for you!" before bursting into laughter. His nonchalant demeanour clashed with the seriousness of V's concerns, creating a moment of awkward contrast.
"These are not mere souls; they are human souls, akin to those residing in heaven, just like yours, "V added, striving to convey the gravity of the situation. The juxtaposition of heavenly and damned souls underscored the moral complexity of the matter.
Lute, coldly interjecting, declared, "They differ. They were given their opportunity, and through their actions, they earned their path to damnation." The frigid certainty in Lute's words accentuated the stark contrast between redemption and the consequences of lost opportunities.
V's counterpoint resonated with a compassionate tone, "I hold a different perspective. Although sinners may have committed errors, it is crucial to acknowledge that everyone is susceptible to making mistakes." His words aimed to bridge the gap between judgment and understanding, acknowledging the inherent fallibility of human nature.
Lute, however, maintained her unwavering stance, asserting, "Angels are perceived as infallible, devoid of errors." Her confidence conveyed a sense of divine certainty that left little room for the nuances of human imperfection.
V, challenging her certainty, questioned, "Do you truly believe that?"
Lute, unyielding, replied with confidence, "I am certain of it."
Adam, injecting his trademark humour into the tense exchange, quipped, "Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fuckin' life." His sarcasm added a touch of levity to the conversation, highlighting the stark contrast in perspectives between celestial beings and the complexities of humanity. The room hung in a delicate balance, caught between the weight of divine certainty and the messy reality of human existence.
As Lute gracefully moved around the table, the ambiance transformed, adopting a more sinister air. Deep crimson tones painted unsettling shadows across the room, amplifying the weight of the conversation.
Lute's voice sliced through the tension, carrying a chilling edge. "Your continued presence is solely due to the mercy of your master, and the royal decree that extends that mercy to hellborn entities and those in service to the royal family. How does it sit with you, understanding the insignificance of your existence?"
"Time's ticking away. Let's dive right in, shall we?" Adam said as he polished off the last of his ribs.
" Oh fuck!" V exclaimed, hastily rushing to present his plan as swiftly as possible.
"Okay I've got a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't hearing me before so here it goes," V, amidst a subtle cough, launches into a rapid discourse that borders on melodic expression. With a flurry of movement, he lays out various items on the table, using them to illustrate his point vividly.
V: I know Hell's population is out of control.
It's a bad situation.
It's taking a toll.
If we rehab these.
And cleanse all their souls.
At my Mystic Hotel Messenger—
V fumbles through the stacks of paper, searching for something. "Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself!"
V: Right! Extermination!
Adam and Lute exchanged glances, their expressions conveying a shared look of scepticism and impatience as they turned their attention towards V.
I know you guys fly down.
Just to kill once a year.
And it must be annoying.
To schlep all the way here.
If they join you in Heaven.
That trip disappears!
You can wave that chore farewell.
V then took a deep breath, collecting himself before continuing. " It'll be a happy day in—"
Adam abruptly cut V off mid-sentence, yawning in boredom as a clear sign of his disinterest.
Adam: Let me stop you right there.
V: Oh—
Adam: Save us all precious time.
V: Okay...
Adam: If what you're suggesting.
Is letting them climb.
Up the ladder.
Oh, they'd rather cross the Pearly Gates?
V: Well, uh—
Adam: Sorry, sweetie. But there's no defyin' their fates!
Adam rose abruptly from his chair, then with surprising agility, leapt onto the table, his movements defying gravity as he hovered in the air, commanding attention.
'Cause Hell is forever.
Whether you like it or not.
Had their chance to behave better.
Now they boil in the pot.
'Cause the rules are black and white.
There's no use in tryin' to fight it.
They're burnin' for their lives.
Until we kill 'em again!
V: Okay, but—
Adam: Just try to chillax, babe.
You're wasting your breath.
Adam: Did I hear you imply.
That they don't deserve death
Are they Winners?
Are they Sinners?
'Cause it's cut and dry.
V: Well, actually, if you take a look—
Adam: Fair is fair, an eye for an eye!
Adam soared through the mid-air, his silhouette outlined against a canvas of billowing clouds that embraced him like a congregation of cotton candy. Each fluffy tuft danced around him, a swirling symphony of white as if celebrating his flight. Behind him, a radiant beam of light pierced through the heavenly mist, casting a halo around his form, and illuminating his journey with an ethereal glow. In this moment suspended between earth and sky
And when all's said and done (Said and done)
There's the question of fun (Fun)
And for those of us with Divine Ordainment.
Extermination is entertainment!
Bow-now-now-nownow
Guitar solo, fuck yeah!
Adam performs a mesmerizing guitar solo.
V rises to his feet, his determination unyielding even after the forceful blow delivered by Adam.
V: Ugh...
Adam: Hell is forever.
Whether you like it or not.
Had their chance to behave better.
Four golden mirages of Exorcists materialize, encircling V from every angle, their imposing presence casting shadows across the room.
(V: Where the hell did you people come from?!)
Now they boil in the pot.
'Cause the rules are black and white.
There's no use in tryin' to fight it.
They're burnin' for their lives.
Until we kill 'em again!
Fuckin' Hell's forever.
And it's meant to suck a lot.
So give up your dumb endeavour.
'Cause you don't have a shot!
Enraged beyond measure, V's countenance transforms into his demonic visage, emitting a menacing growl that echoes through the air. Clutching his papers tightly
Long as I've got your attention.
I guess I should probably mention.
That we made the determination.
To move up to next Extermination!
V: What?!
Adam: Can't wait a whole year.
To slaughter those little cunts.
I know it's just been a week.
But we'll be back in six months!
Despite Adam's ephemeral nature as a hologram, his grasp tightens around V with surprising strength, hurling him forcefully through the doorway, and sending him crashing into the unforgiving ground beyond.
V: Um, wait, you-you— Ugh, SHIT!
As V attempts to lunge towards Adam, the door slams shut with an ominous finality, cutting off his path. Frustration and defeat wash over him, but instead of succumbing to despair, he channels his emotions into a fierce guitar solo, the sound of his shredding echoing through the corridor. With a resounding thud, V slams his fist against the unyielding surface of the door, a testament to his determination despite the setback.
With a heavy heart, V trudges back to the hotel, the weight of defeat hanging over him like a shroud. As he enters, Saeran rushes towards him, enveloping him in a tight embrace
Saeran's voice quivers with concern as he addresses V "V, how did it turn out? Were they receptive?" he asks, his eyes searching V's for any sign of hope amidst the despair.
"Oh, they sure did hear it. But..." V's voice trails off, his expression clouded with disappointment.
Saeran's tone shifts, a glimmer of excitement evident in his voice. "Oh, gather around. We've got something thrilling to reveal," he says, gently pulling V towards a nearby room where a surprise awaits, hoping to lift V's spirits in the face of adversity.
Saeran leads V to where the group awaits, anticipation shimmering in their eyes as they prepare to unveil the surprise.
"Jumin pulled some strings, and it's about to air," Saeran announces, casting a glance towards Jumin, whose confident demeanour suggests he's orchestrated something extraordinary.
"I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!" Jumin laughs, attempting to inject humour into the moment, but the room remains silent, the tension palpable as they await the outcome of Jumin's efforts.
"Hold on, the commercial? Did you guys create a new one?" V asks, his curiosity piqued by the sudden mention of a commercial.
"Ah, I see. Must have been one of my finer performances, if I do say so myself," Zen says, a hint of pride colouring his tone as he reflects on his role in the commercial.
V beams brightly, his eyes alight with newfound enthusiasm. "That's... that's amazing," he exclaims, genuine admiration evident in his voice as he embraces the joyous atmosphere among his friends.
Zen raises a finger to his lips, signalling for silence as the anticipation builds. "Sshh, it's starting," he whispers, urging everyone to focus their attention on the screen as the commercial they've worked so hard on is about to air.
Saeran's voice echoes through the room from the television screen, capturing everyone's attention as he begins, "Welcome to the Mystic Hotel Messenger -"
As the TV abruptly cuts to a news report, exclamations of annoyance and frustration fill the room from everyone except Jumin and Yoosung. They voice their complaints, their frustration evident as they had eagerly anticipated seeing their commercial air.
Kaylee Killjoy's voice blasts through the television, delivering unexpected news that sends a shiver down everyone's spine. "Breaking news from Hell today! We've just been informed by the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is slated to happen sooner than ever before. Thomas, do you comprehend the gravity of this?" she declares, her ominous tone casting a pall over the room as the gravity of the situation sinks in.
"No, Kaylee, what does that entail?" Thomas Trench's voice responds, echoing the concern shared by everyone in the room as they anxiously await Kaylee's answer, fearing the implications of the imminent Extermination.
"It means we're all royally fucked!" Kaylee Killjoy's voice exclaims, her eye twitching with nervous tension as the severity of the situation dawns on everyone present, plunging them into a state of heightened apprehension.
Screams of despair and panic reverberate through the airwaves as the chilling countdown on the Clock Tower ticks down to 176 days until the next Extermination, casting a grim shadow over the hearts of all sinners. The ominous sound serves as a stark reminder of the impending doom looming over them, intensifying the urgency of their plight.
"Wait, what? Why?!" Zen's voice rings out, his disbelief palpable as he struggles to comprehend the sudden revelation of the accelerated timeline for the next Extermination.
A drone hovers over the desolate landscape, its mechanical eyes scanning relentlessly until they alight upon a grisly sight: the lifeless body of an Exorcist, its head brutally severed from its shoulders. Without hesitation, the drone moves closer, emitting a low hum as it conducts a thorough scan of the corpse, its sensors probing for any clues that might shed light on this gruesome discovery.
Lute's voice crackles over, filled with urgency and determination. "We've discovered the body, sir. They've never succeeded in killing one of us before. We should act swiftly and descend there to annihilate them!" she declares, her words laced with a fierce resolve to retaliate against their assailants with swift and decisive action.
Adam's voice cuts through the tension, his tone calm yet resolute. "No, no. We can't afford to tip our hand. But rest assured, when we return, there won't be a demon left standing to attempt such a stunt again!" he asserts, his words carrying a chilling promise of retribution as he plans their next move with meticulous precision.
With a swift and deliberate motion, Adam destroys the projector, shattering it into irreparable fragments. As the light fades, the room plunges into darkness, the only illumination emanating from Adam's sinister, glowing smile, casting an eerie and foreboding atmosphere over the scene.
Outside the convenience store, a solitary figure stands, bathed in the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights, sipping soda as they watch the news about the Extermination unfolding on their phone. Their expression is unreadable, a mask of contemplation and perhaps even apprehension as they absorb the grim updates.
The figure with waist-length bright red hair and one small dark-reddish horn protruding from her head, its bright red hue catching the faint light, stands with an air of quiet intensity. Long bangs partially obscure their right eye, while the left eye, a piercing golden hue, remains visible, reflecting the glow of the phone screen. Clad in a red hoodie that contrasts starkly against the darkness, paired with black shorts, they exude a sense of both mystery and quiet strength amidst the unfolding chaos of the world around them.
"Damn! I'm definitely going to need more grub after dealing with this," MC said, downing the last of her soda.
With a casual flick of the wrist, MC tosses her soda towards the nearby trash can, not bothering to glance in its direction as she continues on her way. The soda can sails through the air with unexpected precision, landing perfectly in the trash can with a satisfying clatter.