The ceiling fan's breeze begins to awaken Yuda. The room he slept in is basic, nothing special but adequate for a hotel. Cream white with some dimmed cobalt blue, typical for buildings in coastal areas. Panning his head right sends his vision through the window, a landscape image of Lacus Dei; it stretches from each corner, only overlapped by the street tracing its border. Conspirators believe those who sail to the edge of Lacus Dei will find heaven. They aren't wrong in some respects.
In the far-right side of the window, the building which had exploded the other day can be examined. It has been broadcasted as a gas leak on the news to make sure that humans don't panic. A leafless spruce tree bordering healthy birch, it sits there, unable to die, waiting to be demolished and resurrected.
Panning left now, an empty second bed is no alarm. To ensure privacy, Yuda rented two rooms, one for him and one for Hannah; he had decided on the arrangement before they embarked to Lacus Dei, adamant that she must have her own room. He is left with two beds as it was the last one left after purchasing the other room for her. Hannah needn't have a double room; she is barely a young adult. A single should be plenty. Yuda is an adult. A double room is nothing strange to him.
What does alarm him is the time: 11:47. He's overslept. They were supposed to leave at 12, but nature had its way. Practically leaping from his bed, Yuda throws on his attire: simple brown jeans, a long-sleeved top of white, and a black hoodie to put over it. Barely halting to check his belongings, Yuda bolts to Hannah's room and knocks, and beats, and pounds. No response.
'Don't tell me she's sleeping through all this.'
The reception. Yuda paces down the stairs and begs for a spare key for Hannah's room. Seeing sweat, they accompany him and open the door themselves. It's empty.
Not entirely; Hannah's body replaced with a piece of paper. Written in red:
Do not leave this room
under any circumstances.
We will know.
Do not follow us.
She will die.
Yuda turns to the door and contemplates his future actions. He peers out the open window, judging the drop; too far – a drop from there would break both of his legs, leaving him useless. Turning, his foot clips something; looking down, Hannah's bag had been left half-packed, a jacket half-folded, hanging half-way out of the bag. Anything not packed sprawled across the floor around the bag. Yuda sets to packing it all up, taking time to fold it all neatly.
Taking another look at the note left behind, Yuda crumples it and throws it in the bin. He sits were the note was, gazing down at his hands, each of his fingers touching to form a ball. Hannah had been put in his care by Sao, if she goes missing, or dies, Sao's sure to kill him. Don't follow, gone. Do follow, dead. Clearly keeping her alive would be a priority, but why was the ink red. Each room came with a desk, and on that desk were a handful of pens to use, why red? Red means blood. Who's blood? It would be stupid to think it was the kidnappers, pointless even; it must have come from Hannah. So, harm had already been brought.
Yuda stands, lethargically walking to the door, but then he realises the receptionist's presence, still in the room.
The receptionist smirks, 'I don't think you should leave. We will know.'
'Sao!' Akuma cries. His brown coat abandoned; his disguise uncovered. No note of ransom, just a trail of blood partially dried, leaving leaves the inn, around the dead drunk, and out into the wasteland. Given no reason not to, Akuma follows. He will know their location. They will die.