Faine took a deep breath and began sprinting down the runway. To the untrained eye, he was just running to work up the momentum needed to catapult himself off the vaulting apparatus. In reality, each step was a meticulous work of art. So many things had to go right: timing, power, control, artistry. At just the right moment, he jumped onto the springboard and went into autopilot. The correct movements were engraved into his mind, allowing him to twist through the air with ease. He couldn't help but smile when he stuck the landing.

The crowd cheered. All those years of sacrifice finally seemed to be paying off. Faine waved to the audience. It was the day the Olympic team was to be selected, and Faine was a shoe-in for the top spot.

Before he made his way back to the locker room, Faine watched as one of his competitors, a man named Henry, prepared to mount the pommel horse. His routine was marred with mistakes, and Faine couldn't help but feel sorry for his former teammate. Faine had trained in the same gym as Henry for as long as he could remember, and watching Henry fail during one of the most important competitions of his life was saddening. Still, a competition was a competition. Not everyone could make the team.

As Henry stepped off the podium, Faine approached him and offered him words of encouragement. "Don't worry about it." He said. "We all make mistakes from time to time."

Henry scowled. "Easy for you to say. You're actually going to make the team."

Before Faine could say another word, a slew of screams echoed from the top of the viewing area. Fiane looked up and saw a demon perched on the roof, waiting for the right moment to strike. The creatures red eyes struck fear in Faine's heart. As expected, the packed stadium began to panic. Faine was at a loss for words. How could such a massive demon get past the exorcists? And what was it doing at the gymnastics stadium?

In just a few short seconds, an all out attack was launched. It wasn't just another random demon attack. It was calculated. Faine made a run for it, but it was too late. The roof collapsed, burying him beneath a pile of debris.