Hello sequel.

Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray – Man. Pity.

Last edited: June 11th 2017

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Asylum

- The Arrival -

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"There is no god…" There was coldness against his back where he lay on the tiled bathroom floor. On top of him was someone familiar, and they bent down to nuzzle the crook of his neck. "And miracles? What is and what is not a miracle is a question of personal belief, don't you think?"

He found that he did not think at all; that he couldn't. The previous blow to the head had rattled his brains just enough to disable the capability of rational thought. And he was tired. In his exhausted state, words and coherent thought escaped him.

"The human psyche is a wonderful thing…" the voice told him, its owner's breath hot against his throat. "So much potential, so often wasted on the mundane…"

'Potential?' his mind echoed, but made no more sense of it, and any importance he might have made of it was quickly lost in another flood of words as the voice continued speaking.

"God created man in his own image, they say, even though it was truly man that created God, carrying all the flaws imposed upon him by those who were supposedly created in his image… Jealous, selfish… supposedly merciful and loving and all, yet so vengeful… 'Thou shalt hath no other gods' or something, wasn't it?"

His eyebrows furrowed, but there were still no words available to him, or perhaps the words themselves were available? Perhaps it was just the ability to string together something coherent and meaningful that was lacking on his part?

"In the end, what are demons?" the voice asked him. "If malevolent spirits are demons, are benevolent ones angels?"

The tiled floor was cold and hard against his back. Are they?

"Faith," the other spoke again. "A powerful weapon, seeing that believing in something makes it stronger…"

Weapon?

"Humans – whether wittingly or unwittingly – created their own gods…" the voice told him, knowingly. "Their belief gave birth to entities, entities that gradually grew stronger or weakened depending on the amount of faith which was put into them… After all, without believers – without worshippers – Gods cannot exist…"

He found himself struggling to open his eyes, which proved quite a task as his eyelids felt like lead.

"To them, faith is sustenance…" the voice told him. "And…"

He forced his eyes open, looking up at the somewhat blurry outline of Tyki Mikk. The latter looked down upon him, amber-coloured eyes glimmering.

"What do you think happened to the old gods?"

He snapped his eyes back open – for real, this time around.

"Allen?"

Allen snapped his head in direction of the voice, taking note of the eyes watching him through the rear-view mirror.

"You dozed off for a bit," Bak Chan offered up as an explanation. "I didn't feel like waking you."

Allen initially said nothing, remaining somewhat slumped in his seat whilst slightly supported by the seatbelt. Then, he finally tilted his head to get a better look at the twilight-stained landscapes flashing by outside the car window. "How long?" he asked quietly.

"Twenty minutes," Bak readily admitted. "But there's at least another hour until we reach Spring City and all, so you can take another nap if you want."

Allen found himself snorting at this, sitting up a bit straighter before slouching again, massaging his aching head with gloved fingertips.

"There is no need to be nervous," Bak said, deliberately misunderstanding the cause of Allen's exasperation. "If anything, then the others are far more nervous about meeting you."

Allen paused briefly in his ministrations, levelling the man with a pointed look. He did not comment though, knowing well the pointlessness of the act; Bak was positively immune at this point, seeing to the fact that they had spent so much time in each other's company. It had started with the insanely long transatlantic flight and gone on steadily in the time that had followed it. However, the other's presence was rarely intrusive; Bak kept him company, but had over time developed a keen ability to determine when to give him space. Then again, since Allen's mood swings had a nasty tendency of manifesting in the shape of telekinesis, the habit of giving him space had proven quite wise indeed.

"How many?" Allen finally asked, feeling his headache gradually subside.

"Just four people," Bak responded, by no means deterred by the prolonged silence. "And you've met Wong before," he went on, slowing down as they neared the intersection. "He greeted us back at the airport."

Allen did recall the grey-haired bearded man of remarkable stature who had greeted Allen's ever benevolent host with a great deal of relief and an equal amount of disapproval, much like an old mother greeting her prodigal and reckless offspring upon the time of their return. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"He's getting old, but he's fairly experienced." Turning left, Bak's eyes once again came to rest upon him, briefly. "And he worries."

Detecting an underlying meaning in the other's tone, Allen lifted his head slightly. "Who is he?" he asked, a question that was truthfully long overdue. "Other than your makeshift parent, I mean?"

The other's response consisted of an amused snort. "Makeshift parent?" Bak repeated somewhat sceptically. "Well, in a manner of speaking. Resident worrywart would be another way of putting it," he went on to claim, voice tainted by nostalgia. "Given time, I'm sure that he'll end up adopting you as well, since you're so reckless…"

Allen privately found such scenario rather unlikely, given the massive disapproval and all. Then, instead of acknowledging Bak's claim, he looked out the window at the passing landscapes. Then, after deeming them quite tedious and seemingly never-ending, he closed his eyes anew.

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A slight knock on the window woke him up. Soon thereafter, the car door was opened. "We're here," Bak informed him, opening the door a bit further, admitting a blast of cool night air whilst he was at it; the latter was probably unintentional, probably. "Are you coming or not?"

What an utterly pointless question.

Allen unclasped the seatbelt without a word, and as Bak moved aside, he stepped out of the car and onto the dirt, idly taking in his surroundings. The latter just happened to be what could very well be assumed to be some type of parking lot, albeit not a very big and at the time not a very used one, as they were the only ones there. Then again, as it was completely dark outside already, Allen supposed that might just be the reason for that. "Going where?" he finally asked.

Bak pointed off into the dark, towards a faintly visible road in-between the trees.

"Is it far?" Allen asked, slamming the door shut behind himself.

"Not really," Bak responded, his face somewhat illuminated as he looked down at the display of his phone. "Besides, there are people waiting up ahead."

"Your people," Allen said, more as a statement than a question.

"My people," Bak affirmed, pulling out a small flashlight.

They walked in silence, each to their own thoughts up until they happened upon what was seemingly the main gate. An archway towered over them. From it, someone had hung a banderol, telling them that they were welcome and that apparently, the fear was real. "Is that the…?" Allen began, letting the rest of his question remain unspoken.

"Yes," Bak affirmed, hurrying his steps along. "Quite tasteless, I think."

Casting a sideways glance at the partially illuminated wall beside them and at the instances of graffiti covering it, Allen honestly could not help but read it. "Are you scared yet, huh?"

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"Are you scared yet, Allen?"

- o0o -

Scared?

He snorted at the mere notion of it, earning looks from the rest of the group and particularly from Bak's minder – Han Wong or whoever he was – whose opinion of him was by no means very difficult to determine, as it showed quite clearly in the way that the other regarded him. Then again, it wasn't as though Allen held a grudge; he understood very well the reason as to why the other was not overly fond of him and particularly not very fond of him spending time in Bak's company. It was understandable; sensible even. If anything, then Bak was the one lacking in self-preservation for insisting that Allen should not continue off on his own. Apparently, Bak was under the impression that Allen would end up doing something utterly reckless and possibly deadly, or get lost and remain that way. If anything, then Bak ought to mind his own business on that point, seeing that the other got lost just as easily if not even more easily; quite an accomplishment, in Allen's humble opinion.

Luckily, even though Allen had a lousy sense of direction, he had other senses to rely on, and usually someone to ask in case he could not find his way on his own. Then again, just as with the living, the dead occasionally proved unreliable, outright devious even. Besides, he rarely made a habit of it anymore. Nowadays, he lived his life mostly as he pleased, and quite passively at that. In the months that had passed since the events back on the isles, Allen really hadn't done much besides leaving the country and staying back at whichever place they were living at, whenever Bak did not drag him out to experience things like shopping malls and random tourist attractions. The latter he could bear – however reluctantly – but the former was something that he would rather not experience again if he could avoid it. The mere thought of it made him shudder.

"Are you cold?"

He wasn't, but he still pulled his coat more tightly around himself and lifted his gaze to stare up at the two-storey red-brick building into which they – namely Bak and the others – intended to venture as soon as they had finished checking their equipment. Allen stared up at the building, and in a way, it stared back at him. Multiple eyes had already levelled upon him the moment he had entered the grounds, and there were even more of them now. Surprisingly, Allen had only seen glimpses of them and mostly out of the corner of his eye; they seemed to vanish the moment he shifted his attention towards them. "It's not cold," he finally responded, knowing that Bak would pry if not provided with a proper response. "I merely recalled something unpleasant."

Initially, Bak looked concerned, but then he cracked a smile. "I take it that you're still not over the mall incident?"

This earned a few giggles, and Allen supposed he should let them laugh. In a way, he had a distinct feeling that they wouldn't be laughing in the investigation to come, and tore his eyes away from the building to direct his attention towards Bak, who continued the briefing. The man was currently speaking about the underground tunnel system which apparently connected quite a few of the buildings. Bak had also procured a map from the bored-looking security guy who was supposedly there to oversee the procedures, mostly because protocol called for it and because he was being paid; not a bad reason, truth to be told, because as far as money and earning it was concerned, Allen found that he could very much relate. Then again, as he was currently freeloading off of a man who seemingly had not only a whole lot of time to waste but also a whole lot of money to spend, perhaps Allen really ought to think a bit more about his own future.

Admittedly, it wasn't like Allen had ever honestly thought that he would be able to get a reasonably normal job; he lacked the education necessary to do most things anyway as he had dropped out of school and had no real plans of resuming his education in the near future. All in all, Allen supposed that it was because he now reasoned that life was way too short to waste upon earning grades and degrees to apply for jobs that he probably wouldn't be able to keep anyway, both due to his mental state and due to the paranormal still being drawn towards him.

That said, regular ghosts following him around had become something of a novelty nowadays; few of them tended to stick around for very long. They seemed drawn to him, like moths to a flame, only to be repelled once they got too close; even the stronger ones were wary of the mark the Other had left upon him, though the scar had grown fainter during his time abroad.

Times had passed and things had changed, and he could never go back, but…

Looking up at the building as he was now – stricken by a sense of foreboding – he could not help but wonder.

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"Are you scared yet, Allen?"

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