Author's Note: I was going to split this chapter in half, one part about Bon and one about Rin, but I decided against it. Mostly because I haven't been updating any of my other stories. (I'm sorry I just haven't been feeling motivated lately...)

Anyway, thanks to The Age of Aquarius, chibimochi, and SuperiorDimwit for your reviews!

To chibimochi: I'm so sorry Yukio doesn't have a larger role in Elysium. I tend to avoid writing characters I don't feel I can pull off properly, which is why some characters are suspiciously absent from my stories, (Mephisto is another character I don't feel I can write well, so I purposely leave him out.) I'm really sorry, but I just can't get Yukio right and I would rather not write him at all than end up ruining him. I hope everyone understands!

Happy Thanksgiving week to all my US readers!

INAUGURATION
Three months later, after his exorcists had been deported and Rin had been shipped off to some strange facility, Mephisto stood alone in his office, staring out the open window, watching the clouds slowly roll by. He had made himself a special cup of tea for this occasion, but he didn't drink it. Not yet. Instead, he held onto it, waiting. He would be here any minute now.

Right on schedule, his office door opened and Dr. Demetri Rascalov allowed himself in, twirling a key around his index finger. Mephisto didn't move, content with watching the man's faint reflection in the window.

"These keys of yours are rather interesting, Samael." Demetri placed the iron key on his desk and slid it over to him. "I, personally, wouldn't trust them in the hands of someone as absentminded as Amaimon," he paused to make himself comfortable in one of the large, leather chairs across from his desk. "Though, I suppose even your rats need a convenient way in and out of your school, don't they? I can't imagine how anyone could get past all the protection wards you've set up." There was a slight, mocking edge to his voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"Why are you here?" Mephisto's voice was calm and cordial, as always. Even Demetri's overbearing presence couldn't unnerve him. "You've already replaced all my exorcists with that witch. What more do you want? Are you here to take me prisoner?"

"No, of course not. It is not within my power to remove you from your position. Besides, that would ruin all the fun. I only wanted to return your key. But you know all this already." He sat straight and picked up a plastic figurine from Mephisto's desk, toying with it, turning it over and inspecting its tiny, painted details. "Do you know why I've named my research facility Elysium?"

Why did he do anything these days? "To annoy me."

Demetri laughed lightly. Mephisto cringed—he hated that sound. "Yes, that's certainly part of it."

"Don't touch my things, please."

He stood and placed the statuette back down with an audible click. "Paradise was always meant to be destroyed." He leaned forward on the mahogany desk, lowering his voice to a dark whisper. "And how far will the devil go to save his little slice of paradise?" He smiled viciously.

Mephisto snorted, disgusted. "The only devil is you, Demetri."

He laughed again—that awful sound. "Come now, don't be ridiculous, Samael. If I was the devil that would make me your father. And we both know how much I despise your father." He walked over to the door, placed his hand gently on the handle, and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh—and no cheating this time. I can't stand cheaters." The door shut quietly behind him.

Mephisto, enraged and embarrassed, squeezed his teacup so tightly the porcelain shattered in his hand.

. . .

As he expected, the trip from the Vatican to Elysium's Research Center was awful. All of Italy's commercial flights had been grounded until further notice; so instead of a cushy, private jet, Bon was transported to his new job on a UH-60M Black Hawk. Everything seemed fine at first, but as soon as the helicopter tilted to orientate itself in the direction of Elysium, Bon had latched onto his harness for dear life and refused to let go until they had safely touched down in front of the austere building.

For a while, Bon stood back and watched the helicopter fade into the distance, taking a few deep, calming breaths to regain his composure. Once he was certain he wouldn't embarrass himself, he held his exorcist license up to the scanner and walked through the open door.

After a quick trip through a small decontamination chamber, Bon walked into an empty, industrial gray waiting area. Directly opposite to the entrance was a pair of thick glass doors leading to a large elevator. Beside that was a plain wooden door with the label 'Observation/Archive' in bold lettering. The lobby had no decorations—no posters, no adverts, it even lacked that stupid demon infogram he had seen everywhere recently—and had less than a dozen cushioned chairs arranged neatly in the center of the room. The atmosphere made Bon feel cold and alone.

Sitting in one of the chairs, his attention completely consumed by the book in his lap, was a blonde boy no older than himself. Beside him sat his meager belongings: a pile of textbooks and a single, black travel case. He turned a page and brushed a lock of his shoulder-length hair behind his ear, but the strands quickly slipped out of place. Bon didn't know much about his coworker, just that he was from some rich, French family that the Vatican adored.

With a confident stride, he walked into the room, tossed his case in one of the chairs, and sat across from the other exorcist. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "When the doc said this place was a bitch to get to, I thought he was exaggerating." He hoped that would be enough to start a conversation, maybe even make him laugh, but the exorcist didn't respond. Blue eyes flicked up to him, and an irritated crease formed in the space between his eyebrows. "Better here than the front lines, huh?"

He returned to his book and turned a page.

Bon sighed again through his nose, trying to suppress a scowl. He had dealt with plenty of assholes in his lifetime, but they always found a way to get under his skin and piss him off. But he tried to be polite, (since the two would be working together in the near future), and instead feigned interest in the lobby.

Having nothing to look at, (literally), Bon tilted his head and read the titles of the books beside the blonde: A Student's Guide to Demonic Psychology, Advance Demonic Biology and Anatomy, an Exorcist's edition of a medical dictionary, The Devil Inside Me: A Literary Comparison of Human and Demon Society… They were all in English.

"You're…not an exorcist, are you?" He didn't mean to ask it aloud, but by the time he realized he had spoken, the blonde was already forming an answer.

"I am," he said calmly, eyes drifting to the pile of books. "The Vatican let me decide between field work and this."

Bon's temper flared. "Must be nice to have a choice," he spat bitterly. He knew it wasn't the boy's fault, but it still filled him with rage. Just because he had money, or had family on the council, or whatever, he got to choose where he wanted to be and what he wanted to do, if anything. Meanwhile, people like Bon had to work their asses off just for a chance to be given guard duty.

But Bon's new acquaintance didn't take too kindly to his response, (not that he really cared, of course.) He glared sharply, slammed his book shut, and crossed his arms in a stubborn, indignant manner. Neither of the two looked at each other, and an awkward, tense silence quickly filled the space between them.

A few stretched moments later, the quiet was broken by the hiss of a door opening down the hall. Footsteps echoed in the emptiness, and the doctor entered from a corridor to the left. "I'm sorry to keep you two waiting," he apologized with a warm smile. Both boys stood to shake hands with him.

Dr. Rascalov was a monster that never slept, with a thousand eyes that never missed a detail. He was known for being outlandishly intelligent, always knowing what you were going to do before you did it, and his vast understanding of science and medicine was beyond anything achievable by a normal human. Some even considered him to be a demon. Bon thought this reputation alone was daunting enough, but seeing him in person really put it into perspective.

Only thirty-four years of age, Dr. Rascalov was tall, almost as tall as Sir Pheles, with an obvious and stark contrast between his snow white hair and bronze skin. He was handsome, and obviously possessed a presence that made people turn and stare in his direction when he entered a room. But...something about him also felt dark and cold—like a shadow caused by a light falling on someone and casting a black imitation.

Dr. Rascalov made Bon nervous for reasons he couldn't fully comprehend.

"Let's see how good my memory is…" His voice trailed off and he eyed Bon carefully. "Ryuji Suguro, correct?"

He nodded. "I prefer Suguro."

"Very well." Pleased, he turned to the blonde. "And… Armand Augustine Angel?"

"Doctor, please… Just Armand Augustine. I don't really want to draw attention to myself." Bon stared at him, dumbfounded. He suddenly saw the similarities between Armand and the Paladin and wondered why he didn't notice before.

"Ah, I understand. Now then…" Dr. Rascalov stepped back and stretched his arms out in a friendly gesture. "Welcome to Elysium! We are very glad to have you both here." He pointed to their bags. "Grab your things and I'll escort you to your room."

Bon caught Armand's gaze as they turned back toward the chairs. "Sorry about earlier—I didn't know you were the Paladin's kid—"

"Nephew," he corrected curtly. "I've never met him before and he doesn't even know I exist. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention my family history again." He quickly gathered his things and turned on his heel.

Bon bit his tongue and swallowed a string of colorful words he was certain would get him into trouble. He snatched the handle of his travel case and jogged slightly to catch up. "Doctor, I noticed the facility doesn't have any windows."

Dr. Rascalov glanced over his shoulder with a playful grin. "That's because demons like to break things—especially if it makes a lot of noise."

"Like people?" Armand spoke quietly, but loud enough for the other two to hear. Bon felt his skin crawl. Humans were loud, and they did break easily under a demon's incredible strength…

"Don't be so pessimistic, Armand—it's not healthy," he said it gently, more of a suggestion than a command. Armand flashed the doctor a small, apologetic smile. "And…here we are." He stopped beside an indistinguishable door. A large, gilded 'three' was nailed to the wall above the scanner, separating the room from its neighbors. "You'll need special tags to be able to access most of the doors here," he explained, "but the chips in your exorcist licenses should work for your room and the cafeteria down the hall. Your tags should be ready by the end of the week."

"Tags? What do we need tags for?" Bon watched Armand hold his card up to the scanner. It opened with a faint beep. "Shouldn't our licenses be enough?"

"Patience, Suguro—you'll see."

Their room looked similar to the one Bon had shared with another student back at True Cross Academy. Two mirrored rooms were divided down the center, with a small alcove at the entrance for shoes. Each half had a bed, a desk, a mini fridge, and a closet. A thick, black curtain hung on tracks where the rooms separated, offering only the slightest bit of privacy. The spring beds had been covered with clean sheets and a quilted comforter.

Having already made his choice, Armand rushed into the right room and placed his books on the desk. Bon tossed his bag into the open closet and sat on his new bed, grateful for the short reprieve. He wanted nothing more than to fall back and take a much needed nap, but, unfortunately, Dr. Rascalov urged him to his feet.

"No time for breaks, I'm afraid." He gestured for the two to follow. "I know you both are exhausted, but there's a lot of work to be done and not enough people to do it."

With a childish groan, Bon dragged himself out of bed and down the hall behind Armand. They passed the lobby and continued down another corridor. The doctor stopped at the last door and held up the ID card attached to the collar of his lab coat. Even as tired as he was, Bon noticed Dr. Rascalov didn't use these tags he mentioned earlier.

The door opened up to a short, wide room. Two heavy-looking doors stared back at them, each with a latched window in the center for passing in food. Bon snapped awake instantly, realizing they had been brought to solitary confinement. But why were there only two cells? Was it to punish demons that misbehaved? Or to contain the ones that turned?

"What's with that look?" Bon jumped at the unfamiliar voice. "Bah, don't ya worry, lad—he's nice n' safe in there." A stout, overweight man stood up from the surveillance table and smiled brightly at them. He was old, somewhere in his late fifties, and was bald until just above his ears. Long, gray hair fell past his shoulders, pulled back into a low ponytail. A short, coarse beard covered his chin and most of his cheeks.

"Boys, this is Torean Murray, our head exorcist and your superior, Suguro. Torean, this is Ryuji Suguro and Armand Augustine." He pointed to each as he introduce them.

The man shook each of their hands in turn with an incredibly strong grip. "Just two o' ya this time?" Armand shook the pain from his hand with a grimace and cradled it against his chest. "How old are ya, lad?"

"I'm seventeen."

"And you?" He turned to Bon.

"Sixteen."

"Ain't that a shame, doc?" He shook his head in disappointment. "They get younger and younger every year."

"There's not much we can do about it," Dr. Rascalov said slowly. "We need all the help we can get."

"Yeah, yeah... It's just—"

Before any more words could be exchanged between the four, a loud banging came from behind one of the cell doors. The latch snapped off after a few more attempts, and two hands with black claws reached out to them blindly. Armand let out a surprised gasp and stumbled back against the wall behind him. Bon didn't even flinch—three months at a specialized boot camp had hardened him to the sight and sound of demons.

"Torean!" the demon hissed. "My time is over! Let me out!"

"How the hell did ya get outta them restraints?" Torean calmly walked up to the door and closed the latch with his foot. "Calm yer tits—I'll get ya out when I'm ready."

"Well, I suppose we'll leave you two to your work." Dr. Rascalov brought the room's attention back to him. "Breakfast is served at seven, Suguro—make sure you are on time. Armand, with me." Armand quickly followed the doctor out of the room, more than a little relieved to get away from the trapped demon.

"...Poor lad. He looked downright terrified."

Bon glanced at Torean and couldn't agree more. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"No way—not a boy that pretty. The demons are gonna tear him apart."

"Uh... " Bon didn't know how to respond to that. "So...what are my main responsibilities?"

"Ah, that's right. The facility's staff split in two: us and the nerds. The 'nerds'—that's what I call 'em—are scientists researchin' that new stuff for the Vatican." Torean rested his chin on a fist as he spoke. "I don't know all the technical details, so ya hafta ask yer pretty friend to explain that part for ya. They run tests on the demons in the city below. Your job is to protect 'em while they work and keep the city in order—wouldn't want frenzied demons on us before we can get results." He paused to shrug. "It's easy work, all things considered, but we're understaffed, so expect to be runnin' back n' forth a lot."

"Frenzied? Is that what they're called?" There was a clear distinction between their two enemies, but the new species of demons had yet to be named. Bon thought the term 'frenzy' described them perfectly.

"Fits pretty well, don't it?" He turned back to the cell door, the prisoner's impatient scratching echoing eerily in the brief silence between them. "...So, lad, how many times have you worked with a demon king?"

"D-demon king!?"

"Now, let's see... Where did I put those keys..." Torean patted his pockets. "Whoops! I seemed to have lost 'em!"

"What!?" The demon pounded on the door in desperation. "Torean, you monster, get me out of here!"

"Don't worry yer pretty, little, spiked head, Earth King. I'll get around to it eventually." He winked at Bon, who rolled his eyes at Torean's childishness.

. . .

A dagger of light pierced his eyes as he opened his wooden door and stepped out of the confines of his home. Rin rubbed the slight pain away with his hand and glanced up at the dusty light fixtures on the cave's ceiling. The exorcists never turned them off, and the daunting difference between the darkness in his house and the bright cave made a chill run through him. Why were the lights always on?

He briefly remembered a time when the world outside became dark during nighttime, but it was just a faint memory in the back of his head. Eventually, his eyes adjusted and, like every morning, he traced his way along the cobbled path to the plaza for breakfast.

The main plaza was at the front of the village, close to the gate that separated the demons from the exorcists. Rin tried not to look at it as he waited in line with the others—the very sight of the polished silver made him anxious. Instead, he watched a few of the early residents enjoying their food on stone benches surrounding the large, three-tier fountain, all under the protective gaze of Papa Oni.

Papa Oni sat on a tall dais in the uppermost corner of the plaza. From there, he could oversee the entire plaza, and kept a close eye on the exorcists as they passed out rations, ensuring none of the demons were disrespected. He ascended to this job of his own accord, and, because of how polite and considerate he was, everyone respected him, (even the exorcists.) This earned him the title 'Papa Oni'.

Rin often wondered what his real name was.

Today, breakfast was a chunk of baked venison no larger than his fist, a roll of bread, and a thick stew with carrots, potatoes, and celery. Not all demons ate meat, and Rin found someone to trade his bread for another piece of venison. He tore the meat to bits and mixed them with his soup. It wasn't a very satisfying meal, but it would keep his hunger at bay for a while.

An hour after the exorcists had cleared the food stall, Rin sat comfortably against the chilly base of the fountain, listening to the calming sounds of trickling water. Amaimon would be back some time today and would probably want to visit the tag fights before curfew. Rin liked watching the fights too—everyone did—but they sparked some deep, instinctual excitement in him that frightened him. Amaimon told him it was the frenzy sleeping in his blood, and ever since then Rin had been too afraid to go to the tag fights alone.

While he waited, he picked up his tail and gently weaved his fingers through its coarse tuft, working out tangles and small knots. It was a demon thing, he decided—no matter how dirty the residents of Elysium got, their tails, (if they had them), were always in pristine condition.

As Rin was inspecting his work, a fight broke out.

The entire plaza of demons reacted immediately to the shouting, forming a crowd of spectators around the fighters. Rin hopped up onto the base of the fountain and stretched his neck in an attempt to get a better look. One of the fighters was a lanky, red-haired thing, with a darkening bruise on the left side of his face. His opponent was much larger, with tan skin and black horns. It was painfully obvious who would win if they continued.

The crowd cheered and encouraged the two, much to Rin's disgust. Wasn't someone going to stop them?

He jumped down and sprinted to the platform in the corner. "Papa!"

Papa Oni removed the ivory pipe from his mouth to speak. "Let them fight it out, Rin. It will solve nothing if you try to stop them." Papa, normally strict with how demons respected each other, was surprisingly lenient when it came to physical violence. Like the exorcists, he believed that fighting was a behavior ingrained in them since birth, and that trying to prevent it would only make things worse.

Rin glared defiantly. "But if they keep fighting someone is going to die!"

"It's what demons do. Leave their bickering for the exorcists."

He gritted his teeth and bit back a complaint. The humans had promised to stop fights between residents before they became too violent. But they never did—they watched from behind the gate, and only came in to clean up the mess once the fighting was over. Promises were shallow things, and everyone here knew this.

"I understand how you feel, Rin," Papa continued in response to Rin's wounded expression, "but you can't protect everyone."

He clenched his fists, failing to hide the hurt his words caused him. "I know that," he whispered loudly, "but I have to try."

"Rin, don't—" Papa Oni let him go reluctantly.

Rin shoved his way through the thickening crowd. Some residents were cheering, urging the fighters to shed blood, others were talking quietly, placing bets on who would win. Their arrogance, their lack of concern, their refusal to stop the fight, to prevent death—all of it made him furious.

Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Why didn't anyone care?

He broke through to the center, seeing the two fighters who were surrounded by the crowd. "Thief!" The red-head paused, his breath short and ragged, blood dripping from his nose down to his chin. "Give me back my tags!"

"You really want them?" The other jiggled a pair of tags in front of him, flashing his sharp fangs in a wide, sick grin. "Then come and get them!"

He charged forward, but his injuries made him sluggish, and the horned man expected it. He punched his smaller opponent on the bruised side of his face, knocking the poor boy off his feet, and stomped on him. Rin watched with horror as the larger man pulled on his tail, one foot on his side to keep him from squirming. The boy's agonized scream was almost completely drowned out by the crowd's cheering.

"Stop it!" Rin had seen enough. He rushed into the center, prying the tail out of the man's grasp. "Stop fighting! You'll get us all in trouble!"

He spat in Rin's face, snarling with anger. "I don't have to take orders from you!"

"Get...out of my way..." Rin whirled around, shocked to find the other fighter struggling to push himself to his feet, his left eye swollen shut. "He's right—you can't tell us what to do. Move," his command was weak. "I'm going to kill him!"

He yanked Rin aside and launched himself at his opponent. The horned man easily stopped him and snapped his arm. "No, stop!" Blindly, Rin put himself between the two again, determined to end their quarrel.

"You want to die that badly!? Fine!" The large man roared and threw a quick punch.

Rin ducked, dodging the first swing, but wasn't so lucky the second time. A fist slammed into his face and he was thrown back, his body twisting oddly as he fell. He hit the ground hard on his side and skidded to a stop, pain breaking out across his shoulder. He sat up, blinking and shaking his head. The force of the blow had only sent him a few feet away, so he was still in the lopsided ring of cheering residents.

When he regained his senses, the horned man was holding his victim up by his neck, his feet dangling just above the ground. He kicked and dug his claws into the man's wrist, but couldn't break free. His face was turning a terrifying shade of red. "Stop it—you're going to kill him!" Rin scrambled to his feet and unconsciously reached for something at his back. His hand grasped nothing but air. Stunned and confused, Rin stared blankly at his empty hand, wondering where his sword was. But then the red-head gagged and he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He grabbed the man's thick arm, trying desperately to loosen his grip. "Let go!"

As if responding to his growing urgency, something slowly began to emerge from its prison in the back of his mind—something he knew was deep-rooted and evil. It heated his body, tingled his skin, begging to be released. He gave in to it, letting it consume him, and was instantly engulfed in a gentle, tickling heat. The sounds of the crowd became muffled and distant, as if he had cotton shoved in his ears, and the pain in his shoulder quickly faded.

"I said let go!" He roared, and the fire exploded out, surrounding him in a beautiful, blue light. After a moment, he breathed in sharply, drawing the flames back into his body.

The horned man regarded him with utter shock. During the blast, he had dropped his victim to shield his eyes from the blinding light. The red-head sat motionless at his feet, his face pale, his eyes filled with horror. Rin stared back at him solemnly, unaware of how quiet the village had suddenly become.

Are you okay? He wanted to ask if the demon had been hurt, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fr...fren... Frenzy!" The crowd immediately erupted in a panic. Residents scattered and ran, seeking the dark safety of their homes.

Not even a minute later, Rin was alone in the plaza . A few brave, curious creatures lingered by the entrance to the village's residential circle, watching him carefully with wide, fearful eyes.

"N-no! I'm not... I was just..." He sniffed loudly, and it took him until now to realize he was crying.

"Rin." Papa Oni waved him over. "Come here."

"But... A-aren't you afraid...?"

The large demon shook his head and gesture to a cushion. "Sit." He obeyed, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the dais. The silence that followed was comforting, and Rin was finally able to control his sniffling. "You've been stressed lately. What's on your mind?" There was something in his eyes, something compassionate and sympathetic, and it forced Rin to look away from him. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"...No."

"You don't have the frenzy. Stay here for a while and relax."

Papa Oni was easy to be around, easy to open up to, like talking to an old friend. He listened quietly and offered advice or made jokes when appropriate. Many of the residents came to confide in him, or to just sit back and enjoy the incense lit at the base of his dais. Once, Rin even saw an exorcist talk to him about his family back home.

And then, before he knew it, Rin was blurting out all his thoughts. "I feel like something is missing...like something here isn't right..."

"More salt in the stew?"

He couldn't hold back a small laugh. "That would be nice." His smile quickly faded. "Papa, has life always been like this for us? Has food always tasted this bland? Has it always been this bright? I... I keep asking myself these questions every day. Something... Something in the back of my head is screaming 'no! This isn't how life is supposed to be!' But I," he paused, gathering his thoughts. "I can't remember what life was like before Elysium. I don't even know what the sky looks like. But why should I care? I'm safe here...isn't that all that matters?" He looked up at Papa Oni, voice cracking with uncontrolled emotion. "Why do I keep wondering what the sky looks like? Why do I keep thinking that food was better before? Why can't I remember?"

Papa waited patiently until Rin's sobs became small whimpers, blowing thick black smoke out his ivory pipe. He seemed to take a moment to consider something, and then said, "it's blue."

"W-what?"

"The sky is blue on clear days. Other days, it's filled with puffy, white clouds that turn gray when it rains. Sometimes, when the sun is just below the horizon, the sky looks like its on fire."

"Really?" His eyes lit up.

"Listen, Rin," Papa continued, "it's okay to want more out of this life, but don't let it consume you. Let go of the past, or you'll never be able to move forward. Don't worry about what you can't remember, focus on creating better memories now."

Rin was quiet for a moment, eyes distant, lost in thought. Finally, he looked up and forced a smile. "Thanks, Papa."

"Attention. Number three hundred thirty-three: report to the gate." The voice, a woman, echoed harshly from the loudspeaker by the gate. Rin paused—the chill from before was back, wiping the fake smile from his face. His chest tightened until it felt like he would be sick, and it took everything he had just to keep his composure.

He was being summoned to the White Room.

Impatient, the voice repeated her message. Rin turned and looked up at Papa Oni with naked horror. "I... I don't..."

Papa looked away, ashamed, his face clouding as he struggled to find the words to convey his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Rin."

"...I don't want to go." It came out in a voice so small that he wasn't sure he said it aloud.

Author's Note: Umm I'm not too happy about that ending part, but I don't know how else to write it (or what to put in its place) so I guess that will have to do. Hope its not too bad.

Ok time for some character ranting! We'll start with Armand. Now, before anyone accuses me of anything, yes my Armand is based on Armin Arlert from Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin). Despite what everyone says, I'm absolutely terrible at making original characters, so I use existing characters from my favorite shows/books as bases and then build on top of them. If you strip him down to his most basic characteristics, you'll get Armin! Cool, huh? See if you can guess who my other characters are!

Armand being based on Arlert doesn't have anything to do with his name. I wanted a French name that was similar to Arthur for reasons that will be explained eventually, so I picked Armand (which I believe is the French version of Herman but I can't remember)

Papa Oni will be described in detail in the next chapter. I'll leave my notes on him until then.

Demetri I created way back when in 2009 for...something. I don't remember much about his early design but I do know that he was originally a mobster. (Thinking about it now he might have been created as a GTA fan character...) He was my universal character for a while and I think I might have used him in an RP or two in some unknown corner of the Internet. I stopped using him because he has a very specific personality and (unlike my current universal, Amon) didn't fit well into some worlds.

He's...well, hard to describe. I think I'll just let the story describe him for me. But don't be fooled by him – that's one of the things he does best.

Oh, and no, he's not a demon or an angel. Then what is he? You'll find out in chapter 17 so stick around! *wink* See you next week!