The water… a downpour… suffocating. A cold chill ran down his spine.
The Eternal's voice, like thousands of running springs, declared, "Order. You had orders, Sham Hazai…"
"BUT IT FELT RIGHT! WHY DID IT FEEL RIGHT!"
Her clutched grip loosened against him, eyes dilated, her smile faltering as her touch slid down his face.
But… it felt right…
"WHY CAN'T IT BE ME!"
[SYSTEM ACTIVATION…U…user…]
Belial jolted up, lids flashing open—gleaming and shaky as they met the rough grey walls. These days, that was all the reminder he needed that he was still in this hell, Nine years later.
Yet it was the dark blue screen at the end that made the nightmares different…
Why did it always feel as though it was about to tell him something?
One would think that after years of having nothing to do with Mana, it would all go away…
Would falling back onto the bed help? He doubted it—he was all sweaty, so sleeping again was out of the question.
Besides… it was almost time. If he remembered correctly, Kael had some sort of competition today—the downside of picking a lightbearer is that they could be machine geniuses.
He'd promised her he'd be there. He had to be there; she was running out of patience with him these days, he could feel it.
Perhaps if they made it early, they'd be back before he knew it.
Wasn't he just the worst guardian ever…
Twenty minutes later, after buttoning up a worn worm-out shirt, he strode out of the room. Nearing the kitchen, he heard the clatter of pans and the harsh smell of burnt flour.
"…I don't know, lightbearer," Levi drawled sarcastically. "If I'd known this was what I'd be fed after we picked you, I'd have offered you to the ashspawns myself."
Kael coughed, "Aw, come on—it's not that bad."
Levi sighed, "Yeah, not bad. I just think I'll skip breakfast."
He entered, shooting Levi a glare, and moved to the kitchen counter where a lineup of half- or fully-burnt fare awaited him.
Okay, he couldn't blame the cat.
Belial stared at the charcoal-like toast, then at Kael's flour-smudged face. Her hazel eyes—still too bright, still flecked with gold when she was stressed—darted away.
"I followed the instructions!" she protested, waving a smoke-stained pamphlet titled *Human Breakfast Rituals (For Cosmic Beings Who Don't Need to Eat But Want to Fit In)*. "Step 4 said 'apply heat until golden,' so I…"
"Set the toaster to 'incinerate'?" Levi quipped. "Congrats, kid. You've invented edible lava."
Belial pinched the bridge of his nose. Nine years of this. Nine years of pretending that burnt toast and cracked concrete walls were normal.
Nine years of ignoring the way Kael's hair sometimes sparked when she laughed, or how Levi's shadow still twitched like a caged thing—
He picked up a toast, raising it to his lips when she snatched it away. "It's alright," she laughed, "You don't have to do that."
Then she wrapped her arms around his chest.
"Thank you for agreeing to watch me," she whispered. "I'm not mad at you anymore."
Belial stared down at her warmth-filled eyes—no damn way this was a weapon.
He ruffled her hair while keeping his stern face. "I'll be mad if I find out your project runs on your light."
She groaned, holding him tight. "Finnne."
"…"
"…"
"How about a tinny tiny bit…"
"Kael…"
She chuckled, "Kidding, kidding. Five minutes and I'll be ready."
With that, she dashed off, leaving them alone in the kitchen.
Levi coughed, descending from the fridge to the counter.
"I don't want to know why you did that."
Not that he wasn't going to hear anyway. "I knew you had potential, Belial—just not the potential to be a dad."
"Not a dad, just taking my time."
"Then do it fast, stupid," Belial snapped impatiently, his tail flicking. "I never knew you for one to play it safe. Are you facing Helel or not?"
"I am. Just not now that…" Kael's glow was unstable. It wasn't safe out there for a lightbearer. "Helel can wait," he said instead.
He glanced at the clock. Five minutes. Kael would be ready in five minutes, and then they'd be out the door—into a world that still didn't feel entirely real. A world where ashspawns were a distant memory, yet still lingered.
He grabbed his coat—the fabric worn but familiar. Levi hopped onto his shoulder, claws digging in just enough to be annoying.
"You know," the demon purred, "these nine years haven't been all that bad… watching you become this from a high-ranking demon feels… satisfying…"
He was about to grab the demon by the scruff when Kael came dashing down the stairs, shouting, "Ready!"
Her purple hair was tied back in a messy ponytail; her hazel eyes gleamed with excitement. She wore a lab coat over her usual outfit, its pockets stuffed with wires, tools, and what looked suspiciously like a small, glowing orb.
Belial's eyes narrowed. "Kael. What's that?"
She blinked innocently. "What's what?"
"The glowing thing in your pocket."
"Oh, this?" She pulled out the orb, holding it up with a grin. "It's just a power source for my project. Totally harmless. Promise."
Her definition of harmless was different from his, then.
Belial sighed. "Just… keep it under control, okay? No glowing, no sparks, no—"
"No fun?" Kael pouted. "You're such a buzzkill."
"I'm a realist," Belial corrected, though the corner of his lips twitched. "Let's just get out of here before we're late."
So together, the trio left the house and stepped outside into heavy air that smelled strongly of ozone.
The city around them was a mix of ruins, tall reconstruction efforts, and humanity with eyes holding a little hope.
Proof of the creature's strength—his eyes drifted to a group of Reckorners hurling a man down in front of a kid—or of fragility.
The Reckorners had doubled in number from last week after rumors of destruction on the outskirts of town circulated, their grey and blue uniforms and helmets looking as if they cost an arm.
The government still hadn't said anything about the attack, leaving the people in the dark.
But every night, he felt the mana creeping closer. Something big was coming—he could feel it.
Kael skipped ahead, her enthusiasm undimmed, contrasting with their surroundings as she danced lightly on her feet, concealing the orb that held the "harmless light."
Belial sighed.
"Kael… Hey, Kael…" an annoyingly cheerful voice called.
They both turned to find a dark-haired young boy waving with a big smile, and Belial grimaced— that fucking kid.
"That's Rune," Kael jumped. "I think we should…"
"No." Belial gripped her shoulders, pushing her forward. "No Rune. No boys."
Levi sighed, "Here we go."
Meanwhile, Rune watched them go, unsurprised. He knew Kael's brother didn't like the way he hung around his daughter.
No matter how many times he'd told the guy they were just partners, the man wouldn't budge. Maybe because they both knew he was lying.
Placing his skateboard down, Rune skittered past a Reckorner—yanking his bag back after it was searched—and stopped next to Kael's family.
"Hello, Kael's Brother. Hey Kael, hello… Cat…" he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
Levi snorted with a meow, but Belial was already calculating how easy it would be to grab the kid and throw him into the sewer.
Rune's dark hair was a mess, his hoodie half-zipped, and his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he didn't have a single worry in the world.
Unfortunately, Kael yanked his hand, so they were walking together—too close.
"Your brother still doesn't like me," Rune chuckled.
"No, really. He just doesn't like people."
"Yeah, okay. Have you told him about…?"
"Haven't found the chance," Kael said, worry in her tone. "How did you get away from that Reckorner?"
As Rune rambled, Belial felt his eyes blaze—it was the kid.
"Dad." Levi snickered. "Something tells me we'd never get back to hell when a kid is your biggest threat."
He would have launched an attack on Levi—an open invitation to relieve his frustration—when he was suddenly tapped on the shoulder. "I want a minute."
Shit… Belial shut his eyes. Not now.
He turned around, his gaze fixed on the man before him—a foot shorter, with greying hair and a sort of pride that made him seem more like a fool than he was tall.
"Mr. Grier," Belial gritted. "Now's not the time—the kid."
"Oh, this won't take long, Belial. Your landlady said I'd catch up if I hurry."
He didn't look like he'd hurried, which meant he'd been trailing them for quite some time.
"What do you want?"
"Calm down, grumpy," Grier said, twisting a well-groomed mustache. "I bring good tidings. An offer you can't refuse…"
Belial didn't like the sound of that.
"You see, Councillor Sylas came around," Grier began, "and when he's at the ring, he has a rather… uh… let's say unique taste."
"Unique taste."
"He feeds on helplessness. A little suffering and pain is all he needs to chase his… orgasm."
Belial's eyes narrowed. "And what does that…"
"You're known for being the weakest in the Arena," Grier leaned in close. "You almost lost your life in the last match, but you heal fast."
Kael always helped with that. He'd told her he was a weapons engineer for the Reckorners. If she ever found out the truth, she'd make him stop.
And they really couldn't do without the rations—the cool money he earned helped them purchase supplies.
Most people ate insects and any strange vegetation that crept in from the borders. Only a few could afford real rations.
The bruises were too raw, the broken bones too intense, but the pay was good.
Belial's eyes drifted to Kael, who wasn't trying to hide that she was staring—the disappointment already traveling across her face.
He pulled back. "I'm not your man, Grier. I have somewhere to be…"
"I thought you'd say that," Grier said as he pulled out a small brown bag, shaking it so it made a clink. "Twenty Ashenails, for just one fight."
That was… a lot of money.
Enough rations for a month… and the rest for Kael's first year at the academy… But…
"By the way, your landlady said I should tell you she's kicking you out if you don't settle your debt by tonight…"
"I'll do it," Belial sighed.
"I knew you were smart." Grier tapped his shoulder, shoving the bag into his coat. "Tell your kid off—you might be away for long."
What did he mean by that? Belial thought as he moved toward Kael.
"She's going to melt your smug face for this one," Levi sang. "You can't really think of doing this to her."
"We need the money. I'm sure she'll get it." His fist clenched.
"By 'get it,' you mean lie again."
He stopped before her, Rune behind them looking more out of place than usual as he watched Kael and her brother—who looked more like her father.
"You're leaving," she murmured as soon as he halted. "Of course, I wonder when I'll finally learn not to put my hope in you."
"I'll come back…" he tried.
"No." She blinked, her hazel eyes hardening. "You're not my father anyway. I'm just a girl you picked…"
"Kael…" He tried to reach for her, but she pulled back, grabbed Rune's skateboard, and rolled off—past a Reckorner who grunted about little kids having no manners.
Rune fidgeted, "Sir…"
Belial's shoulders slumped. "Go after her. I'll be there. But it'll be late."
"Yes, sir," Rune answered and took off after her, almost knocking down the same Reckorner.
She wasn't going to forgive him for this one. But there was no time for guilt—he'd make up for it by showing her the receipts.
So, with Levi still perched on his shoulder, he made his way to Grier, tired and numb.
"Fine, lead the way."
***
Meanwhile, behind them, Rune grabbed Kael's hand, catching her as her skateboard skittered away.
"Hey, it's okay," he muttered when she glared at him, his sparkling pupils softening when she realized it was him. "He's gone."
She sighed, pushing herself up and then helping him to his feet before walking away to retrieve the skateboard.
Her eyes—they sparked again. He thought as he watched her back. Sometimes, they seemed otherworldly.
"I'm following him," she announced.
Rune walked up toward her. "Why? Hey, what are you doing? The furnace isn't where you're supposed to be."
She laughed. "Mending weapons doesn't give you so many bruises that you collapse at the front door," she glared ahead. "He's hiding something."
Her brother was going to kill him, but he knew she'd made up her mind.
"You really want to do this, Kael?"
She tilted her head, her eyes sparking once more. "Are you helping me or not?"
"I…" Rune sighed, "He went that way."
Pathetic… he was so pathetic.