September 5th, 1992

"So how are the designs coming along, Ma-chan?" Kiryuin Ragyo walked into the office with a smile on her face, expecting to have a casual chat with the woman she'd hired on a spur-of-the-moment whim and instead found herself looking into the eyes of a woman staring at Death Itself.

It took her off guard to the point where she took a step back, staring at Marla queerly from where the blonde had moved to stand. The woman's eyes were wide and dilated, her mouth parted and panting gently like a dog. A black stain was slowly spreading across her skin from where Marla had crushed the pen she'd been holding. "…What did you call me?" The woman's voice trembled with thinly-suppressed emotion. She looked ready to either jump out the nearby window or attack Ragyo with her broken pen.

The fashion queen took a moment to observe the woman before her. Marla had warned her of her condition during the initial interview Ragyo had scheduled for the two of them, but she'd never seen anything to mark the foreigner as unstable, nor had the blonde ever been perceived as 'dangerous' in the older woman's mind. In fact, from what Ragyo had seen from the woman, Marla appeared to be both a hard-worker and a down-to-earth woman; a combination that was all but impossible to find in her profession. Yet this…this was new, and Ragyo sensed that whatever she said next might very well decide if her new employee did jump out a window or run rampant through the building.

Black ink was dripping from her fist and onto the solid oak desk Marla sat at now, bypassing the thin sheet of resin meant to protect it and instead seeping into the wood fibers beneath. They'd leave dark stains on the desk that would live long past Marla's employment in that office, where occasionally a young woman barely out of her teens would wander to and rub, recalling the one who'd made them. Now however they began to form into a dark puddle, the inky droplets moving closer and closer to the drawing Marla had been perfecting before Ragyo had entered. "I apologize," Ragyo kept her eyes fixated on Marla, slowly moving around the desk the blonde was at and placing herself at the gap that would have allowed Marla to exit the room. If she got a little closer, she'd be able to grab the woman in case the taller woman suddenly turned violent or suicidal. "I wasn't aware you disapproved of such names. If it causes you such distress, I'll keep the titles on a more professional basis." Mentally, the silver-haired woman cursed. She enjoyed getting on more familiar terms with her employees, especially those who worked directly under her and not in one of the branching offices. Many of her employees didn't mind it as it helped put them at ease when working with someone who made so many more digits than them.

Before her Marla continued to stare at her, her gaze still wild and frantic like that of a scared doe, and then her expression morphed into one of confusion. "What?" She asked, and then dropped her gaze, staring down at the drawing in front of her with a grimace. "I—no, no, that's not it." The woman jerked, scattering black ink drops across her paper before suddenly releasing the pen. It clattered to the table in two pieces, it's broken cartridge spilling it's contents across the desk like a fresh corpse. "That's not—it's—" blind to the black that coated her hand, the woman buried ran both hands through her hair, leaving an ugly black smear across her left temple and graying her bangs. Ragyo winced. Marla didn't notice. "I…damn it, what was it?" She growled. It was a heated noise that brought to mind a tiger she'd once witnessed on a safari in India. It'd been a massive thing, all muscle and rage that had taken down a buck in the tall grass. She'd been on an elephant when her caravan had come across it, and the noise that had emanated from its throat before it'd charged their tour guide sounded like the noise emerging from Marla's throat now.

It both made her skin crawl and enthralled her, and despite herself Ragyo leaned forward a bit more, eyes shining with curiosity. "Did you remember something?" She whispered.

The woman's eyes snapped open, and Marla's head whipped to face her, expression wide and open with revelation. "Yes I—I…a woman, one who—who…" the anxiety was back in full force now, bringing with it a nip of hysteria that made the blonde's voice crack.

And it was in that moment Ragyo saw something. Something more alien than that of Life Fibers she had under surveillance far beneath her mansion and under lock and key with the heaviest security money could buy. Something dangerous and powerful, awful and malignant in Yamada Marla's eyes that made Ragyo tremble with something equally foreign.

A flicker of red.

It was the same flicker of red her butler had seen two years ago, watching a forlorn younger brother fall helplessly in love with a mysterious woman stricken with amnesia. The red of a demon's eyes, glowing with the malevolent energy that haled the onset of a demon's bloodrage. It was a red of a hue unlike anything she'd ever before seen and to Ragyo seemed almost supernatural in origin. It was a powerful red, she'd later decide, a dangerous red, like the heat of a burning star brought to heel in the eyes of a mortal.

"Damn it!" With a snarl that was beastly Marla turned away and smashed her fists on the table, where they thunked heavily against the wood. "I almost—shit! I lost it! Who the fuck was she?!"

Ragyo was startled from her enthrallment as the red spark vanished, leaving in its place a person so lost and confused the older woman almost pitied her. Before her Marla groaned, bringing her elbows to rest on the table as she clutched her head, her face a grimace of painful emotion. Ink began to seep into the right sleeve of her white blouse, and with the spark gone Ragyo was herself once more, sighing at the shameful display of her younger employee and taking swift action to calm the blonde before further damage could be done.

"Easy Yamada." The familiarity was gone now, and with a graceful ease Ragyo approached Marla's chair, easing it back and away from the table. Marla did not fight, and instead leaned back, giving light to the defeated tears streaking down her cheeks. It was a pathetic sight with her stained face and garments. One that left her fully pitying the woman as she drew Marla up by the elbow not stained with ink. She took only a moment to rescue the drawing the blonde had been so focused on from further damage, taking a second to marvel at the outfit displayed before moving the paper to a tray far from the inky mess on the desk. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." She instructed, "You're a mess, and I'll have none of my employees looking like some sloppy hobo off the street in my office. You have a fresh shirt?"

The steel calm in her voice seemed to be enough to rouse Marla from her ravings. The woman didn't meet her eyes, instead staring at the floor in a mixture of bitterness and embarrassment. "Yes Ma'am."

"Good, change into it—no, not right now, you'll ruin it with the ink on your hands!" Ragyo snapped, "After you've composed yourself in the bathroom and cleaned up this mess! Come on, let's go!" Keeping one hand firmly on the blonde's elbow, the elder woman guided her employee to the restroom, grateful of the fact that it was late at night and there were few other employees around to see the two of them. The bathroom was empty, and with the kerchief Marla kept on her to dry her hands the two of them cleaned the blonde's hand and face of the ink that soiled it.

"Mind telling me what happened back there?" Ragyo asked, taking the now-stained kerchief to Marla's bangs.

Marla's hands clenched, and for a moment she said nothing. When the silence grew too long, the executive opened her mouth to repeat the question, only for Marla to interrupt her. "It…have you ever had one of those instances where you know something, but don't know it?" Ragyo glanced down at the woman, but Marla's eyes remained locked straight ahead. "Where you know what it sounds like, what it smells like, how it looks and feels and tastes all in one instant, and then in the next forget everything about it?" Now she looked up, gracing Ragyo with a forlorn, lost look that reminded Ragyo of herself on the day she'd lost both her parents to Life Fibers.

"I…I suppose…yes, I do know." She admitted. After all, in the years that had passed, she'd forgotten the sound of her father's laughter and the smell of her mother's perfume. Both of their faces had faded into smiling blobs of gray in her mind, and so at least in some sense, she understood what the woman beneath her was saying.

Marla frowned and looked to the sink, staring at the grey streaks that had formed in the drain from where she'd scrubbed the ink from her hand, leaving it pink, raw, and cold. "I had that…when you called me that name. Ma-chan or whatever…it, it struck something. Something familiar. I had it. I…" The woman chewed on her lower lip. "It was like I could physically see it, standing before me like a thread. If I could reach my hands around it and grab it, I'd have it, and…and…" She swallowed abruptly, and the next words came in a whisper. "And it was gone. Lost." She snapped her fingers. "Just like that. I had it one moment and it was gone the next and…" Now she turned, staring at Ragyo with such intense distress that once more the woman feared her younger employee might try something foolish. "I just what to remember! Is that so much to ask? Why is it so difficult?! Why can't I remember anything when it's right in front of me?! Who the fuck am I?" She exclaimed.

"You're Yamada Marla, one of my best employees who's currently digging herself into a hole for yelling at her boss." Ragyo responded sharply. "And that's all you are. Who you were in the past doesn't matter; that person is gone, as dead as a memory from infancy. Maybe you were a tourist. Maybe you were married. Maybe you were a rampaging psychopath hell-bent on making Japan her next target." The woman reached out and grabbed Marla by the shoulders. "Whoever you were…whatever you were doesn't matter now. Whatever Powers That Be saw fit to give you a second chance at life, and with a clean slate no less. You'd do yourself and everyone else around you to take that life seriously and live it rather than wrapping yourself up in the past."

Marla glared at her, biting back words Ragyo knew would claw and bite, and then closed her eyes, releasing a hissing breath as she fought to calm herself. Her face was grim when she opened her eyes once more. "Maybe you're right." She muttered. "Maybe I have been focusing too much on my past…maybe it really would be easier to just let it go…"

Ragyo huffed. "Of course it would," She said matter-of-fact. "You've got a good job in a stable company so long as you stop destroying my pens, and you've got a cute little boyfriend who still gets all flustered whenever I see the two of you talking together."

Marla blushed and looked away, this time with a small smile on her face. "…Yeah." She bit her lip, then scratched the back of her head in a manner that reminded Ragyo of Soroi's younger brother Kenji, the same man Marla was dating. "Um…" She looked at Ragyo once more, "Sorry—about everything. Blowing up like that, destroying the pen, the mess, all that." She said. "And…thanks. I didn't mean—thanks. For everything."

Ragyo smiled at the woman, sensing the sincerity behind her words. She'd misunderstood just how much Marla's amnesia was affecting her and further underestimated how sensitive a topic it was for her to speak of it. While it'd been unintentional, it'd given Ragyo new insight into the character that was Yamada Marla, and maybe even into the mystery woman Yamada Marla and risen from. "Your welcome." She said, "Are you good for cleaning up the rest of this mess now?" She asked, and her smile grew as Marla nodded with a bit more assurance. "Good, good. Finish cleaning up and then change shirts. A woman must always maintain a strict level of professionalism, regardless of the time of day or who is around to see them." She chose to ignore the swift look of displeasure that came in the wake of those words. "After you've changed, I want you to finish up that model drawing and turn it in to my secretary's inbox before you head out for the night." She paused, giving Marla a final once over before adding, "And no ink stains! What you're creating is going to be displayed in front of my top designers. I hope you understand the importance of this matter."

And indeed Marla did, for her eyes widened in surprise, and with a hurried, "I'll get right on it!" bolted out of the room, leaving Ragyo in her dust. The woman stared at the bathroom door from where it bounced off its frame, than slid shut at a slower pace, blinking at the blonde's sudden urgency.

"Now if only I could get that kind of response out of my designers." She mumbled under her breath, before sighing and shaking her head. "A woman's work is never done. Ah well, as they say, no rest for the wicked!" Cackling at her own little joke, Ragyo sopped up the water that had splashed across the sink with Marla's now-ruined kerchief and threw it in the trash. If the blonde was truly desperate for something so cheap, she'd go out and replace the one she'd tossed out, but the executive would not have her employee drying her hands on something so stained and ugly. Humming lightly to herself, she exited the bathroom as well, sparing only a moment to turn off the bathroom lights.

She did this without so much as a glance back at the bathroom sink, her mind already planning for the future and reviewing what still needed to be done that night before she could retire to Soroi's cooking and the comforts of her bed. Yet had she stayed a second longer, had she caught her reflection in the bathroom's light before it'd been extinguished with the flick of a switch, Kiryuin Ragyo would have seen Something.

Something sinister and malignant, shining within her own eyes with an ethereal glow not native to mortals of that plane. A red glow, of an unnatural hue that glowed with its own internal light behind her light blue, almost violet eyes.

For what she'd never realize in the times that followed was just how dangerous that red glow in Yamada Marla's eyes had been. It was an evil glow, after all, and an infectious one as well. All it took was a simple glance to implant the malevolence, and like a parasite it had entered Kiryuin Ragyo without either herself or Yamada Marla realizing it. Now it rested in her head, throbbing to the nerve pulses within her brain as it absorbed tiny bits and pieces of her mind. Not much; at this stage it could do little but interfere with the electric signals traversing her brain and down her spine to the rest of her body. Harmless, like an egg.

Harmless until it hatched.

For in that moment, when Ragyo had stared into the eyes of an amnesiac demon and seen Something, she had sealed her fate. And through it all, those involved would never come to understand just what had driven a woman like Kiryuin Ragyo to commit her nefarious deeds.

Or how a demon under the guise of Yamada Marla had damned an innocent woman with a simple glance.

Present

Aikuro ducked under the yellow police tape sectioning off the surrounding area, doing his best to look as unassuming and unimportant as possible. Dressed in a windbreaker adorned with the kanji for police on the back, the man made his way over to one of the entrances to the hospital, taking a moment to tilt his head upwards and observe the damage done to the building. The fifth floor had a large, gaping hole in the side of it, covered in blue tarp and obscuring what remained inside. The west side of the building, he knew, held a similar hole and tarp, as did the floor three stories above it.

Restlessly, the man withdrew a cigarette from his inner coat pocket, lighting it and sucking in a deep breath. "What did the Kiryuins get into this time?" He muttered to himself, stepping off to one side as a pair of nurses emerged from the building with another stretcher in hand. This is wrong on so many levels…He thought darkly, frowning deeply as the nurses loaded the individual in question into one of the many medical tents set up right outside the hospital. They should be moving people into a hospital. Not out.

Taking a deep puff of his cigarette, the man sighed before moving around towards the back of the hospital. This late at night, there weren't as many people out, and the other officers on scene looked too ragged or jaded to care about the one 'cop' no one recognized. Aikuro would simply have to keep his head down and nose clean to detract any unwanted attention.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, the man moved further on, heading to the south side, where one of the emergency exits rested. The signs were an ugly, dirty white now after the smoke had gotten to them, still stubbornly glowing in their lone job to provide guidance to those who would need it. Casually, Aikuro strolled up to it and tried the handle. It opened with no resistance, and the man could see where the metal around the handle was indented, as though someone had taken a heavy object to the door's frame.

The staircase within was surprisingly well illuminated, and quashing his cigarette the man traveled upwards, taking his time and observing additional areas throughout the staircase that had been sectioned off by more police tape. There were smears on the walls in these areas, and though the lighting could not illuminate the true color, Aikuro could easily guess at what they were. The staircase reeked of iron.

The blue-haired man continued upwards until he reached the sixth floor. Here the walls and surrounding door frame were dark with smoke damage, and the man was forced to slam his shoulder into the weakened door from where the handle had melted into an immobile stump.

After several tries, the door finally caved to his bombardment and flew open, sending a burst of ash into his face that left him blind and gagging. When the dust settled once more, he continued on, pulling a kerchief from his pocket and tying it around his face to better protect his lungs. The air was still thick and smoky from where the flames had fed off it, and the floor had grown weak and unstable in a variety of places in part due to a combination of water damage and fire damage. It made his progress forwards slow and haphazardly, with the air growing thicker the further he went in.

Eventually, he was forced to pull out his phone, using the light attached to it in order to better see through the smog. Yet the beam only penetrated a couple of inches, leaving smoky swirls that danced to his every move. It created a rather unsettling atmosphere, one that left the hair on the nape of his neck standing on edge. Yet Aikuro was nothing if not a hardened man to such things, and where others might have balked the blue-haired man continued onward, intent on reaching his goal.

He reached it soon enough.

The air still reeked of heavy smoke and burnt flesh, a scent he'd not had the misfortune of smelling for a good many years. The lights were out in here as well, and with the heavy amount of debris that laid scattered about, the man found himself reliant on his phone's light. Thankfully, he seemed to be the only person in the cafeteria so late that night; the room had been amongst the first to be attended to, with doctors, nurses, and even visitors and able-bodied patients all stepping in to evacuate the many people who'd been allegedly held hostage there. When the firefighters had arrived to take out the flames, they'd also moved in to aid in evacuation, and through the combined efforts of everyone involved the cafeteria and surrounding rooms were swiftly cleared for the firefighters to extinguish the flames. They claimed the flames were blue, Aikuro recalled, the flames were blue they were so hot, and the firefighters feared they wouldn't be able to extinguish the fires in time to evacuate everyone on the neighboring floors. They thought it was a chemical fire that'd be immune to water.

Whatever the reason, they'd managed to put out the flames, though what remained was a charred mess of soot and charcoal. Grimly, the phone light a lone beacon in the dark, the man navigated the room, the bright beam drifting from the ground, dark and dirty with ash and debris, to the walls, which blistered and bubbled from some unknown agent. People in eggs. That's what the nurse said. People were abducted by a monster and placed in some sort of strange transparent embryo. In the past, he'd heard stories from his family of a creature that had once produced such things. A great beast of paper mache, whose flesh was nothing but talismans concealing the muscle and organs within. A soul eater, it'd been summoned by a woman they'd viewed as family, and it'd run rampant through a placed they'd dared call home, attacking those who resided inside and forcing a manhunt for both beast and woman.

"I really hope that isn't the case here." Aikuro whispered to the dark. "I might be able to take on a monster or two, but a full-fledged Kiyatu is something else entirely." Never mind the race that actually made a habit of using such creatures. The woman had been one of them, and he distinctly remembered warnings from multiple friends and family regarding if he should ever encounter one. Avoid if at all possible. His mother had told him in his younger years. They can turn anyone or anything to stone without any warning. They're dangerous. In front of him, the flashlight's beam illuminated a large, blackened mound. "This is it." He muttered, and carefully approached, a part of him fearful the beast might yet waken.

It did not, and the man reached a hand out, hesitantly touching the soot-hide. A small section crumpled to ash beneath his fingers, and laughing Aikuro sighed in relief. It really was dead then. But that still doesn't explain how it got in here or who was controlling it. It doesn't explain who-what took the thing out. But that was okay, because that was why he was there, to investigate, to gather evidence and return to the shop in the hopes of putting enough pieces together in the hopes of at least seeing the puzzle's outline.

Grimacing at what he was about to do, the man tightened the kerchief on his face. Holding his breath, the man plunged his arm into the carcass, biting back a gag as more soot fled the body and released the entrapped gas within. It stank to the high heavens, a gross combination of spoiled meat mixed with a sweeter scent that reminded him of shit. He shuddered and gagged again, stomach rolling as he felt around the orifice for anything solid and instead only further enlarged the hole. It released more of the gas within, and unable to take it any longer the man withdrew his arm, retching as quietly as able as ash from the destroyed organs drifted off his skin and to the ground. "Whoever killed this thing knew what they were doing." He grumbled after a moment, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, "This thing is nothing but dust and gas." There was nothing left of the Kiyatu other than the soot that was once its bodies and the gas that had built up as it'd been roasted alive. The grime was so fine and so thick that it'd entrapped the gas, leaving no viable was for it to escape. The person who took care of this thing must by a serious pyromaniac.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" A new beam of light, this one the broad arch of a flashlight, flitted over the corpse, and with a start Aikuro darted behind it, hoping that he hadn't just given himself away. Quickly he eliminated his own light as above the body the fresh light trailed across the room. "…Okay, looks like it's clear." The voice was male.

"You sure about this, Boss?" Another voice asked uneasily, this one a female. "There are still people roaming around downstairs. What's to stop them from coming up here?"

"Aiko's setting up wards around the entrances as we speak." The male responded, "Anyone who approaches will subconsciously avoid them. We won't be interrupted until we've rid this place of any remaining evidence."

"And if we're interrupted by something that's not human?" The female pressed, and Aikuro strained his ears to hear what would next be said. What indeed?

"Then we deal with them." The male's voice was soft and serene. "It won't come to that though." He spoke with absolute certainty, causing Aikuro to raise a brow in question. "There are more shields on this hospital than there are wards in the Seichi. They won't find us."

"The Seichi?" Aikuro started badly at that. He'd not heard the name of that place mentioned in ages. "How do they know about…" the man trailed off, internalizing his thoughts as the beam above him grew broader. There'd be time to dwell on such things soon enough, he felt, but right now he needed to find a different sort of cover. The strangers were approaching the carcass he himself had been investigating before their arrival, and he didn't fancy trying to explain himself to whoever the two were. Not when they'd already gone about ensuring, with magic no less, that no one would have a chance to interrupt them.

He tensed as they approached, eyes skimming the broad beam of the flashlight as he searched out a route filled with enough shadows and debris to hide him. "How are we going to get rid of this thing, Gunchul? We don't exactly have an industrial-style vacuum cleaner here, and I left my handy-dandy sub-space portal back home next to my time machine." The woman's voice rolled with sarcasm, and the beam dropped off to the wall nearest Aikuro.

They're right next to me. He thought.

An aggravated sigh arose from Gunchul. "We'll spread it to the four winds. People will think it's just smoke or residual ash being blown out by a breeze. I don't think Fortuna Marller left anything solid before she departed."

Wonderful, now I have a name. Aikuro thought despondently. Now to figure out how these two are connected and get out of here before they see me. A trial easier said than done. The beam had illuminated nothing with which the man could hide behind, and by the sounds of it these two weren't leaving the corpse any time soon. If anything, his temporary hiding place was about to be lost very soon depending on how they decided to dispose of the ash.

"So, think an over-pressurized explosion will do the job? The woman asked. "We do that, blow a hole in the wall for the ash to filter through, and we can blame it on a gas leak that had gone unnoticed in the wake of the fire."

Gunchul hummed in thought. "I'm not sure, Chaara…I was there when the firefighters were checking the kitchen. They don't have gas stoves here due to that exact reason. The risk to accidentally start a fire or a gas hazard because of gas stoves is too great for the hospital, so everything is electric."

"Then we do it anyways and mess with their memories a bit." Aikuro could almost hear the shrug in Chaara's voice. "Do that, they all think they originally had a gas stove anyways. We can even punch a hole outside in the stove itself, so there's no evidence suggesting the stove was electric by the time anyone gets around to repairing it. By the time someone new comes 'round or someone figures out the stove was electric, it'll already be too late and they'll dismiss the cause being something else. Too easy."

"That's a lot of minds your thinking of playing with Chaara." Gunchul warned. "You know it won't be that easy. Hundreds of people have been through the kitchen alone in the hospital staff, and that's not including the firemen and police officers aiding in the investigation. What your suggesting leaves a lot of room for error, and if any one of them were to suffer from it…if we poked their minds the wrong way…"

"No one's going to do anything about a couple of people who started suffering from seizures, Gunchul."

"Someone will." Gunchul said softly. "They may not be human, but someone will notice. That's what we're trying to prevent, remember?"

"I know, I know." Chaara groaned. "But again, by then no one's gonna be able to connect the dots well enough to lead back to us. It'll be fine Gunchul. We'll pack our bags and be on the next plane to China by the time anyone notices, and by the time they think to search for us, we'll be safe back with the rest of the Clan."

This time Gunchul offered no argument, and in that moment Aikuro knew his time had run out. Cursing silently, he reached for his pockets, withdrawing several scraps of paper from within as Chaara continued. "Now, let's get started. You take care of the kitchen and I'll deal with this mess. Shoo!"

There was a grumble, and Aikuro froze as a dark form wandered off to his right, back facing the man as the stranger, Gunchul, headed towards the kitchen. Shit. Grimacing, he looked at the small articles he'd gathered in his hands, the papers wrinkled and crumbled from where he'd carelessly stashed them earlier that day. My ass would get beat if Setsu saw her talismans in such a sorry state. I hope this doesn't negate their effectiveness. He'd only ever seen the most pristine of talismans ever used, and their effects against creatures of supernatural origin had always been nothing short of amazing. Of course, that's only if these folks are of the more 'supernatural' branch of people. He reminded himself. If they're human or extraterrestrial, I might as well be throwing paper at them.

He might still be throwing nothing but paper at them if wrinkled talismans lost their power. Let's not think about that right now. In front of the body, he heard the woman murmuring a chant, and knew she was casting a spell. That was both good and bad. So long as the spell was strong, and judging by the mere fact that she was chanting, Aikuro judged it to be a powerful spell indeed, the caster would need to focus entirely on what they intended to do, which meant they couldn't be distracted by outside factors.

Meaning she wouldn't notice someone sneaking away from a pile of ash.

So long as it's a powerful spell. He reminded himself, so long as her friend doesn't come back to check on her. He crept away from the pile on hands and knees, shuffling forward at a snail's pace as he felt out what was before him. Broken tile primarily met his palms, though occasionally his fingers pricked on fallen metal or had his skin snagged on protruding rebar. His knees, unused to such abuse, began to scream in protest at his slow journey, yet Aikuro was deaf to their cries, his main goal being to put some sort of distance between himself and the sorceress at his back before she finished the spell. Before her friend completed his spell.

Through torn cloth and soot he crawled, and still he found nothing he could use to place between himself and the newcomers. A sense of urgency befell him as the chanting at his back rose in pitch, and somewhere off to his right he heard a massive explosion, one that left him frozen and his ears ringing as his breath caught in his throat. "Shiiiiiiiit." His breath fell into a silent hiss, and from his back a breeze began to rise up, a strong one that tugged brutally at his jacket and tossed his hair wildly into his face. There was a strange, unmistakable pressure gathering in the room, and with his heart beginning to thump like a rabbit's Aikuro continued, now no longer wanting to hide so much as escape whatever blast radius might arise with the spell behind him.

He could feel the pressure gathering now; around him, where it pressed against his head and his throat, squeezing at his eyes uncomfortably and numbing his cheeks and tongue painfully. He could feel it gathering inside of him, where each breath felt more and more labored, as though the oxygen was thinning.

He continued crawling. The chanting grew faster.

His fingers and toes began to throb and pulse, his veins bulging within his arms and legs and across the back of his hands as he rushed forward, no longer creeping but shuffling, afraid to rise into a full-fledged run for the mere fact that he might fall as soon as run. He could hear his heart in his ears now, could hear it's pulse, hear it pumping blood from that great red organ in his ribs up into his neck and to his head in rapid ka-kow ka-kow ka-kows. His hands were moist, but he couldn't feel any pain. The gathering pressure stole even that, and in its place was a discerning tingle, one steadily growing up his arms and into his elbows as the ka-kows pulsed stronger in his ears.

I'm gonna explode with that pile of ash if I don't do something! His mind raced, and grimacing (his cheeks felt numb, like he'd been holding a smile for too long in front of a bad photographer) he looked to his hands, staring at the crumpled white talismans still clutched tightly within his grasp. One of them, he knew, was designed to cancel higher-caste spells, though in his rush to grasp them he could no longer distinguish which one it was in the dark. Grimly he reached for his pocket, withdrawing his phone and finding the plastic screen cracked and the body ever-so-slightly bent. The grimace became a snarl, and with a growl he heaved it forward, hearing it hit the ground with a crack before spinning off somewhere into the distance. This isn't getting me anywhere! His bones were beginning to throb now, a horrible feeling that created a dull, deep ache within the furthest recesses of his body, igniting nerve endings that brightened his world with pain.

"Fuck it!" He snarled, and even as he heard a man's voice shout "who's there" Aikuro turned, wadding the talismans into a paper pall and hurling them back towards the sorceress and the ash.

Several things happened at that exact moment. The first was that the sorceress completed her spell, resulting in a nauseating pop that left Aikuro screaming, rolling on the ground into a ball as a wave of pain so great overwhelmed him that death would have been a blessing. The second was the ball of crumpled talismans suddenly coming to life, disproving Aikuro's earlier theory that wrinkled talismans were useless. Additionally it providing a startling discovery, had anyone paid the ball any attention, that when many talismans were crumpled into a ball together and one was ignited, the result was that all were ignited. It created a secondary explosion that threw the female sorcerer back into a wall, howling in pain as her hands went to her face, if one could even call what was left a face.

Two men rushed into the room, one being the familiar Gunchul and the other being Aiko, the previously absent member of the three-man crew. Aiko rushed to the howling Chaara's side with a shout, whereas Gunchul was more explicitly drawn to the screaming Aikuro, who'd fallen to a moaning wreck as he tried to crawl away. There goes all my contingencies, the man thought briefly, and through the haze of pain and fear, he heard a laugh that might have been his own. You done fucked up good this time, Mikisugi. Who'd said that? The voice in his head sounded like Kinagase. You bit off more than you could chew this time, and ain't no Dotonbori Robo to get you out of it.

"D…Dee…t-tee…are…" He moaned to the invisible Kinagase, only this time his old friend didn't respond.

"Who the hell are you?!" One bleary eye pealed itself open and drifted up, finding a man in a doctor's coat towering over him. A gurgled laugh escaped his throat, harsh and ragged and weak from his earlier screams. "Y-you have…a horn…" He wheezed. "..'Sa Yi-Shen…doin…ere?"

"You shut your ape-mouth right now before I shut it permanently." The man-Gunchul, he recognized the voice-said quietly. "You shut your goddamned mouth and you shut it 'till I say so."

And that of course, was when another wall exploded and the wingéd women appeared.

There were four of them, women dressed in white and with wings so bright it hurt to look at them in the dark. They bore strange, ancient looking weapons heralding back to a time long past; a pole arm, a long sword, a halberd and a war hammer, each of which bore strange, alien runes that glowed with deadly intent. Someone screamed, though in the pain that clouded his mind, Aikuro was uncertain if it was from the trio or himself. It might very well have been him, when he later had a chance to look back and reflect on the time, for the women held a strange and ethereal energy, an aura so exotic, so alien in its power, that it was terrifying to behold.

Each one held a look in their eyes that bespoke death to those who beheld them.

Mutely two of the women darted forward, floating on their ethereal wings of light. With an unnatural grace they descended on the sorceress and the man at her side, both adorned with a single horn that sprouted from their foreheads. The one with the halberd lashed out, and the male stiffened, then fell forward. No…that's not right…Aikuro's mind whispered. Half of him fell forward, the other half, that of his entire right side, stood straight for a moment longer as if in defiance of the woman's attack. And then that too fell, and the woman he'd moved to protect began to scream.

Her screams didn't last for long.

The other white woman, this one with the war hammer, smashed the pointed end of her weapon into the woman's skull. A strange, crunching quash emerged from the side of the woman's head, and blood oozed forth from the wound, seeping around chips of protruding bone and the gross grey matter it had vainly tried to protect. With a swift yank the woman pulled the spiked end form the woman's head, and the victim's body began to spasm and seize, wiggling and squirming like that of a snake in the midst of its death throws.

It was a horrid sight, one made all the worse as the hammer-maiden rose her weapon high above her head and brought it down once more, ending Chaara's trembling. Then she looked at Aikuro.

The man felt a piece of him die, looking into those eyes. Her gaze was cold and without remorse, not cruel in the manner he was familiar with but instead indifferent, as though the man and woman she'd just murdered had been little more than rodents she'd needed to exterminate. As though he was little more than a fly in a glass and her with the bug spray, coming to end his life. She stepped in his direction, and suddenly Aikuro felt his wounds no more.

In its place was nothing but sheer adrenaline. He popped to his feet with a suddenness that caused the white women to pause, and without thinking he hooked an arm around Gunchul, who'd frozen in his place, mouth parted in silent horror as he stared at what had become of his comrades. "Let's go let's go let's go!" He screamed, and his voice seemed to startle the horned man from his stupor. Together they turned and ran, Gunchul quickly overtaking the injured man and half-guiding, half-dragging him towards the kitchen. He heard a shout from one of the women behind them, tasted blood in his mouth and bile at the back of his throat, and as they entered the kitchen smelled the rank scent of leaking gas that made his head spin.

Gunchul croaked a word of power, and then Aikuro found himself falling, dropping through the hole produced before the ladies arrival and gaining speed, the ground a looming black abyss of destroyed stone and yellow police tape. And then nothing but blessed darkness. Blessed darkness and monsters with rows upon rows of teeth.

A phone was ringing.

Over the high crest and sigh of waves against the evening's breeze, Marller surfaced from the ocean and turned herself towards the direction of the phone. A moment later Youko surfaced as well, more serpentine than human. The Mazoku cocked her head to one side like a dog with a whistle, and in the murky water Marller watched the snake-woman's eyes dilate. "Oh no, I can't believe I—grah! How could I be so negligent!" Her face would have morphed into a snarl had she more flesh on her face, but with the ocean's call and the creatures both Mazoku and Demon had come to feast on, her features were made more of scales than skin. "Sorry, I really, really need to answer this!"

Marller watched her dive beneath the ocean's surface with a small scowl, fighting to tread water with one arm as she watched her younger companion glide beneath the waves with the fluid ease of one born to it. Though they were more than three miles from the coastline, Youko rose to the shore in mere seconds, slithering across the sand in a form more befitting a naga than a Mazoku. "Damn it…" The demon grumbled, her head dipping more and more beneath the water's surface as she fought to stay afloat. As a demon of Niflheim, water was a scarcity, and while she'd seen plenty of bodies of water in her time to the point where oceans had ceased to amaze her, so too did she find herself with no love for them. The waters were always cold and black, speaking of mysteries only the eldest of demons could comprehend and threatening to consume her should she be careless in the encroaching tide. And here was no different; worse in fact, as could only fight it off with one arm as she was now.

Relenting to the depths of Tehom, Marller allowed the water to tug her under once more, staring around her in distaste of the inky state that surrounded her. Somewhere far off she heard the echo of a whale's song, and beyond that the vibrations of creatures skittering across the ocean's floor, but primarily she saw nothing but the dark. If you were back to peak form, it' d be easy to see what's around you. Her mind whispered. She ignored it in favor of a simple teleportation spell, one that left her dripping and naked and shaking within the outcrop of rocks Youko had used to store her possessions. Her hair had become a wet mop of tendrils the color of damp hay, and grimacing she gathered it in mass to wring out the water, her nonexistent arm reaching to aid its sibling and grabbing nothing. The departed limb clenched and tensed for a long as though frustraited with its own nonexistence, and the demon grimaced. Idiot. She chided, smelling salt, kelp, fish, and the creatures they'd been hunting in the deeper depths of the ocean. "I'm gonna need to go to a bath house after this." She muttered, not particularly enjoying the thought of bathing one-handed while surrounded by a bunch of mortals ogling her scarred shoulder. It would…complicate matters, to an extent, but at least she'd be rid of the smell of fish. Marller hated fish, especially raw fish, with a passion.

"Hey Sweetie, how are you doing?" The demon paused, ears twitching as she caught sight of Youko, looking a bit more human now and talking into a slim device the blonde vaguely recognized as a phone. It was thinner and more advanced than the bulky contraptions Marller remembered from Nekomi, and from it rose a high, young voice vaguely discernable as female. "I see…are you being a good girl for Aunty Yoriko?" For a moment a smile flitted across Youko's face, yet it vanished when she found Marller watching her. "Honey, listen, I'm…going to be a little late tonight." There was an audible moan from the speaker, and the snake-woman grimaced. "I know, I know…I need you to be patient for me. Daddy got delayed a little and something came up that I have to take care of…we'll save steak for when Daddy gets home, okay? That's my girl."

Marller placed her hand on her hip, scowling at the woman as she moved to lean against a boulder. The cold seeped uncomfortably into her back and made her missing arm seize once more with a phantom's pain. It felt like her missing hand was curling into a fist. "Listen, can you put Aunty Yoriko on the phone for me? I need to talk to her real fast….I love you too, Sweetie." There was an immediate shift on the Mazoku's face, and the next voice that came on the line was that of an older female. "Hey Yoriko, I need you to watch Setsu for me tonight. Something came up." Again she looked to Marller, this time miming an apology to the fanged woman. "No, no, it's nothing I can't handle." Her voice wavered for a brief moment, and again Youko grimaced. "No, Haan is fine, his plane just got delayed, so he won't make it back in until late tonight…No, I'm not going to the airport to wait for him, it's…" another glance, and Marller raised a golden brow. "…something I need to take care of. No, no, I'm fine, really. It's just…you'll watch out for Setsu, right?" A look of relief seeped into her features like a warm blanket, and Marller could visibly see the tension ease from brunette's shoulders. "Thank you, Yoriko. I'll be back as soon as I'm able, I promise." The Mazoku pressed a slim button on the side of her phone, and with an audible click the screen went black. She pocketed it with a wary sight, before looking back to Marller.

"You got a kid back home." It was more a statement than a question. Both women knew from the conversation alone that Youko had been talking to a little girl. "You didn't say anything about a kid."

Youko's face was gave nothing away. "I don't make a habit of telling every creature I meet that I'm a mother." She stared at Marller with unreadable eyes. "Especially those that attack me."

Marller said nothing, and for a long moment the two women stared at each other impassively, the demon naked and one-armed, eyes glowing a bright red in the darkness and the Mazoku, human only from her waist up, her lower half coiling around her anxiously like a viper whose nest had been disturbed. The air seemed to grow frigid with the sudden onslaught of tension, and for a long moment the only noise to be heard were the songs of cicadas from the trees along the beach's coastline and the crashing waves in the distance.

"I want you to know," Youko spoke slowly, as though willing the words to sink into Marller's head. "Before I do anything else with you, I want you to know that I would do anything to protect my family." She paused there, observing the one-armed blonde for a long moment before continuing. "I mean this from the depths of my heart. It matters not to me if it is a man or a god; for my family, I will do what I must to ensure their safety." Another pause, one filled with a deep frown shared by both women. "That means my little girl." Her voice dropped an octave, one that brought with it a chill Marller could almost feel. "That means my husband. I hope you understand that, Demon Marller of the Fortuna Class."

And indeed Marller did understand. A sense of resolve, of fearlessness had enveloped the snake-woman before her, and though she was weak in comparison to a true demon such as Marller herself, the blonde held little doubt in her mind that the Mazoku before her would go down fighting and go down hard. The fear that had so briefly consumed the brunette upon their initial meeting was absent, and in its place was a creature which dared to shift the tides of the world itself should they come between her and the small nest of serpents she called her brood. Marller sensed this on an instinctive level, one shared by such creatures that went with the pull and push of their baser selves. As such, the demon inclined her head, acknowledging the younger woman's resolve and feeling a small kindling of respect ignite for the creature before her.

Had it been a dEmon, the result would be no different. A part of her, that same part that had whispered to her of her current limitations, spoke once more. Though her BloOd is diluted from many a genErAtIon on the mortal plane, she still holds the same unyielding possessiveness of any of US. Even gods feared a demon protecting its territory. Even the Almighty knew to stay away from a demon and its brood. BrOod...chiLDrEn…Her head began to hurt, and feeling the onset of a headache coming on, Marller straightened from where she'd leaned against the boulder. Her missing arm hurt almost to the point of tears, yet Marller displayed no signs of her agony. It would do neither woman any good to see the Fortuna demon in such a state of weakness. A demon needed to appear strong to those weaker then herself; a display of weakness was always something demons took advantage of, and after so many years on the Assiah, be as 'Marller' or in a seal, the blonde had discovered that humans worked along a similar mindset. And despite Youko's aid thus far, she doubted a Mazoku would be any different. "I have no interest in children. They just get in the way. So long as this one does not bother me, nothing will happen to her."

Regardless, Youko saw through her bluff. "Hey, are you alright?" Some of the solemnness vanished, and with it came of worry. "You suddenly got real pale."

Marller waved off her concern. "I'm fine. It's nothing." Sunspots were appearing in her vision now, though the sun had long since cast itself beneath the horizon, and the headache had developed into a migraine, one that throbbed and pulsed in tune to the phantom pain, creating a stead beat that left her wanting to tremble, wanting to scream, wanting to curl up and beg for relief. Her jaw clenched. "Really, I'm fine. Let get more of those mer-" the demon took a step forward, and her world exploded into light. Somewhere far off she thought she heard Youko release a scream, yet it went unheard in the bright void that engulfed her. There was a pounding in her ears like that of a beating heart, and gradually the world once more darkened into…into…

Nidhogg, where was she?

It was a world of Mists. One of such depth and solidity the fog it produced seemed almost to have a physical presence, one that she could reach out and take hold of, to grab and mold to her will like wet putty on a craftsman's wheel. The mist spread before her endlessly, and though she searched she could find nothing that might distinguish a landmark in the surrounding environment. The air here was thick and humid, almost chokingly so, and seemed to muffle her every action, her every step, beneath a blanket of stillness. It was the negative of Tehom's black waters, yet still as thick and blinding and ominous as the depths formed from the blood of the Ancient One, Tiamat. A feeling of utter despair engulfed her, and in that instant she knew she was alone; alone save for whatever creatures dared call this white nightmare 'home'. She tried to fly but failed. Tried to teleport but could not. Summoned only mere sparks where instead an inferno should have manifested and only a hint of a breeze where she expected a tempest.

You've been sealed, a voice whispered in her head, and Marller grit her teeth, fighting off the sudden anxiousness that coiled and churned like maggots in her stomach. That's what it is, the voice continued, Valkyries got the drop on you and that little Mazoku, and then they sealed you. Just like last time. Just like when you-abruptly she cast the thought down, slamming the lid down on that can of insane thoughts before it could further manifest and consume her.

A shiver traversed her spine, and self-consciously she wrapped her arms around herself, only realizing at the last moment that it was still a one-armed hug. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry.

But more than anything, she wanted out.

For though she didn't want to acknowledge it, though she feared it with all her heart and soul, Marller remembered her time sealed.

By the agreement once established between Daimakaicho Hild of the Niflheimian demons and Daitenkaicho Tyr of the Aesir and Vanir, those subjected to sealment were placed into a deep sleep, one that would last throughout their sentence until they were released once more. To leave any creature, regardless of species or rank, awake and alone in a void for centuries was considered too cruel, even by demon standards, to subject upon any soul. Yet sometimes those spells designed to cast sleep grew weak. Sometimes they grew decrepit, and sometimes those trapped within woke up at some point in their sentence. Sometimes those poor souls woke up mid-way through their sentence, and were forced to spend what felt like an eternity howling, screaming, begging for release. Sometimes those creatures woke up and lashed out in a rage, in desperation, at the void around them, searching for some exit out. And when those who woke up realized there was no exit, there was no escape, and there was no judgement of time…well, for those who woke up, they were left with two options. For at times, those who woke up went mad in their desperation for freedom, doing the impossible and actually damaging the faulty seal they were in and forcing those who watched it to release the one trapped inside for fear the soul might die. And thanks to the Wretched Doublet System the bound random gods to random demons, it was unknown if the death of the one who woke up would lead to their own death as well. But then those who woke up were raving mad already upon release, and didn't give two shits about the Doublet System and wanted only to destroy, destroy, destroy, and die.

And sometimes, those who woke up and were released mad and raving to the nine worlds were killed.

But sometimes, those who woke up were left alive.

"I was not sealed." She growled. "You can't seal multiple creatures in one prison." She reminded herself, hating the way her voice wavered more towards uncertainty. "And I'm not alone."

Nidhogg, she wasn't alone.

She was being watched.

The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled with alarm, yet though she spread her senses, both physical and other, she could find nothing in this empty white void of a world. It only caused her further distress, for that meant that whatever was watching her was stronger than her, and that was not a being she cherished the thought of meeting. Grimly, she sloshed through the ankle-deep water she found herself in, hope to at least come across something, anything that might tell her where she was. Yet there was nothing. Nothing but the white. Nothing but the mist. Nothing but the tepid water splashing up her bare legs.

There was no water in the seal either, she reminded herself, no water, no ground, no mist…this place, void-like though it was, had substance to it. She could feel the heat, the moisture, the discomfort the environment provided her, and she latched onto that discomfort like a drowning woman on a lifebuoy. "I can do this," She told herself, carefully controlling the bubble of panic that told her to run! Run! RUN! "I'm not alone, just in another world. I've got earth and water beneath my feet. I'm okay." She sucked in a deep breath of humid air, taking in the smell of tepid water and the almost-sweet taste of something that brought to mind rot. Yet even that was fine, that was okay, because if there was rot there was life, if she was being watched there was life, and right now more than anything Marller needed to know she was not alone. It didn't matter if it was plankton or moss, tiny fish or some horrid monstrosity; it meant she was not alone and it meant she was not sealed.

Somewhere in the distance, the demon vaguely thought she heard something slithering through the water, the only noticeable sign that other creatures dwelt within this realm. Yet with how the mist muffled everything, the owner of the noise could have been anywhere from five feet to five miles from where she traversed. And while she took comfort in the sounds, the baser part of her, that wild beast that only answered to Instinct reminded her to be wary, for it was unknown if the creature that was with her, if indeed there was only one, was friend or foe, predator or prey.

At one point, the demon even found herself stopping, squinting through the white as he mind played with shades of bright grey. It almost appeared to her that something colossal was passing across her path, something large and yet so immersed in mist that it's shape was little more than an off-colored white, one the just as quickly disappeared as it appeared and leaving Marller to wonder if she was hallucinating. However after travelling another unknown distance, again the blonde's eyes were drawn to movement in the distance, this time far off to her left and cast in a darker shade that the demon was certain was no trick of the mind. She paused there, watching a long coil of light grey travel past, then coil around and make as secondary pass, this time at a lighter shade as it ventured away from her.

One thought emerged in her mind as she stared at it. A single notion that might or might not have been her own and called to her with a singular desire so potent it was near-irresistible. One simple word that would damn her or save her, demon though she was.

Follow.

And Fortuna Demon Marller thus did follow.

Comments of a Madwoman: We'll here from the rest of the gang in the next chapter. Happy Holidays!