#code:exorcist

[beheadingofmakai]

“Exorcist” Is A Strong Word

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5:31 AM was not a nice hour to be up and about for Vinn Ingram, but there simply was no other choice. Sure, the cold winds that blow through Mint Hill Street were a very convincing argument to buy a scarf the moment today was over, the uphill walk made paying a taxi very, very attractive even though it was a short walk, and the deadly combination of both made our new Exorcist miss his bed sheets with the agony of a lover who left his sweetheart behind to go to the war, but alas, this was a necessary evil if he ever was to see his workplace at all. At the Seventh Office of the Mythic Affairs Bureau, work hours begin at 7:00 AM, which is a whole one hour and twenty nine minutes our daring star could’ve spent tucked in bed dreaming about sunshine and puppies, but if the last two days were any indication, this was a bad idea, and that bad idea has a name: Bastian Ashfield, his partner.

“Mother fu... Arc damned cold wind... Uphill walk in the middle of... This better be worth it...” muttered the displeased Vinn to himself, making his walk under the purple early morning skies. Two days ago, Bastian raided his apartment and snatched him away to a sudden necromancy case, and yesterday, Bastian once more got him by the cuffs and got him working with a truant demon after an exorcism. These last two days, he’d been roped into all this work without being able to even see his office or meet his other colleagues. For a top scorer like Vinn, this was like a rusty, jagged spoon to the heart, as it was vastly unprofessional from him to not even greet his other seniors at the office just because this hydromancing asshole of a tyrant decided to start paying him house visits. Well, no more! Today, Vinn left far earlier than he was supposed to, as he wasn’t gonna risk a third day of impromptu plate-juggling. Maybe now, finally, he was gonna be able to do things right.

But Arc damn the wind is cold.

“I should almost be... Oh! That over there is the office, isn’t it?”. Vinn perked up and broke into a calm jog, and indeed it was. A four story building, solid and made of brick, with a large sign that read the “7th Office” in bold black letters. It didn’t indicate what it was the office of, just that it was the 7th. Magic and the supernatural is a well kept secret, after all, so whoever stumbled in there by accident would just be told a lie about this being a real estate firm or maybe an engineering firm. At long last, Vinn was going to be able to meet people that hopefully weren’t condescending jerks!

As Vinn approached the building, the door swung open, and what strode out froze Vinn in his tracks. A very tall woman, at least two heads taller than Vinn, with long dark green hair and a somewhat dark complexion, but the prodigious height and the curious colors of the dame weren’t what paralyzed Vinn, it was the long, curved, thick black horns that protruded from her head that did, peeking through holes in her large brimmed hat. 

“Hm? Hey there, I haven’t seen you around before” the mountain spoke. “For consultations and filing reports, head to the left desk, and for general questions, the help desk is on the right. We’ll help you in however way we can.”

“...Oh!” finally reacted Vinn, taking his eyes off the horns, hoping he didn’t offend. “Oh, thank you, but I work here, actually, it’s good to meet you, I started two days ago, my name is Vinn Ingram.” Upon hearing this, the woman brought a hand to her mouth in surprise, and immediately smiled gracefully, lifting her hat just slightly so she could take a better look at him with her piercing crimson eyes.

“Ah! You’re one of the graduates! How silly of me, my apologies, I assumed you were a new client. I haven’t seen you around, but, well, I suppose the same can be said for others, hmhm. Well met, Vinn Ingram.” -- the woman bowed with dignity and poise found only on professionals -- “I am Fatima Allanach, Exorcist here at the Seventh. Have been for years now. A pleasure to meet you. I would love to chat with you more, but I need to go out for something rather pressing right now. Which division are you on? I’d love to drop by later to properly meet you when time isn’t a pressing concern.”

“Oh, no no, don’t let me hold you back, the pleasure is all mine!” hastily replied the novice. “I’m in the 3rd Division.”

“The 3rd... That’s... I see, so you must be an intel support, then? Well, have fun with Nicholas, he’s kind of a stick in the mud before 9:30, but he’s very good at what he does. You’ll learn much. Well, farewell, until later.”

With a graceful half-bow and a smile, the large woman in the trench coat walked away, her horns disappearing from sight as soon as she headed to the streets. Can’t be seen with those by civilians, after all. Vinn couldn’t help but wonder what she meant by “intel support”. He was very much a fully fledged Exorcist, and his partner was Bastian, not some “Nicholas”. Well, whatever, he thought, maybe she was just confused and in a hurry. They’d meet later, so no biggie.

Finally at the 3rd floor, Vinn looked up which office was the 3rd Division’s in his briefing e-mail. It was more than a bit daunting when his worst suspicions were confirmed and that large, imposing cast iron door was, indeed, his office. With someone like Bastian on their payroll, however, the iron door made complete sense, unfortunately. “Well, whatever, let’s get to it.”

The already small room behind the iron door was made even smaller by the sheer amount of chaos within. Paperwork everywhere, pizza boxes, the scent of coffee and mana leftovers mixing into what can only be described as a terrorist attack on the senses, and one very bitter-looking blonde man sitting at the very end of the room, surrounded by cabinets, coffee mugs, and his computer, mashing away at that keyboard like it owed him money. 

“Uh, he--”

“And why the hell are you here this early again, Bastian! Can I just not have my own little world of-- Huh?”

“Um.”

“Oh.”

The red haired man and the blonde bitterness extract given a human form looked at each other awkwardly for a second, before the latter finally threw a brick and smashed the silence. “...Who, who the hell ar-- Who might you be? This is the 3rd Division, I think you got the wrong door, pal.”

“Uh, hey there, no, I work here. Effective as of two days ago, but it’s my first time showing up due to... Exceptional reasons, I guess. I’m Vinn Ingram, assigned here as of August 4th, a pleasure to meet you, Mister...?”

“No Vinn works here, dude, just go to your office.”

“Um, sir? I do work here, it says as much in this e-mail, I’ve been working for two days now on field.” 

“No you don’t.”

“Sir...”

“Dude, come on, I know everyone in this office and-- Hold that phone, what did you say your name was again?”

“V-Vinn Ingram, partner of--”

Whatever came after his last name fell upon deaf ears and was drowned by the loud tik and tak of the keyboard’s cry for help as the blonde man’s fingers struck it with surgical precision. A few seconds of awkward keyboard sounds later, the man’s face seemed to be right out of the cover of a cheap gas station horror novel. “Bastian’s partner? That Vinn?”

“That’d be me, yeah.”

“What the fuck, you haven’t quit yet?”

“E-excuse me?”

        Of incense, ink stains, and the murky menace lurking beneath it all:                                        – Chapter 3: Neon War Paint –

“Oh, um, ahem, h-hey, welcome, Vinn, welcome! I just, mm, never really expected anyone partnered with Bastian to last more than one assignment with him. Or less than one, really. I hope you’ll understand, he’s kind of, mm, not a very nice person.”

“Oh, trust me, I could gather that much. But yeah, I’m here, alive and willing still, somehow.”

Molotov cocktails burst green with envy at the explosive laughter the man by the computer just showcased with peerless cacklesmanship. “By the Arc, man, you really went and... I’m Nicholas Dunbar, Seventh Office 3rd Division information agent, assistant, and secretary, an actual honor to meet anyone who somehow survived Bastian.”

Vinn could only sigh, half laughing and half crying internally. “Vinn Ingram, once again, now assigned to this office as that oaf’s partner, the pleasure is mine. So, um, Nicholas, is Bastian just... Like that? In general?”

“He very much is like that in general.” replied the intel agent as he prepared some coffee on the worn, jury rigged coffee maker that had what was very clearly a band aid somewhere on its base. “See, the thing is, you’re the fourth partner that’s been assigned to him, and the only to survive the ordeal without quitting the job or requesting a transfer after... Well, not after, during the first day.”

“And I can see why. I’m here this early because he kept going to my place and roping me into more stuff, telling me he has to test me on this and test me on that, what a prick.” Vinn recounted as he tried to navigate this disaster room of pizza boxes and stray paperwork, making a futile attempt to find his desk.

“Yeah, you’re actually the only one I’ve met, haha. I kinda just assumed you’d be roadkill as well, no offense. You aren’t the top scorer of the Mythic Law Enforcement Academy for nothing, after all. Man, Bastian is real good at this job, one of the best, I dare say, but his people skills just haven’t been the same anymore...”

This last statement perked the novice Exorcist. “Mm? What do you mean with ‘anymore’?” The inquiry clearly changed something in the atmosphere, as Nicholas simply looked down and then at the coffee maker, gripping it by the handle and serving two piping hot mugfuls of coffee, offering one to Vinn.

“I can’t really tell you, man. I hope you understand. It’s kinda personal to him, and I’m not about the snitch life.”

“Ah, no no, sorry, didn’t mean to put you in the spot. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Say, since you’re here early, I might as well tour you through the Seventh, what do you say? Introduce you to the people, show you where stuff is, the works.” offered the intel agent, sipping his coffee, his voice certainly softer than before. This wasn’t an offer Vinn was going to turn down.

“I’d very much like that!”

                                                         ——-

The Seventh was a sturdy, spacious building. That cramped little hellroom that was the 3rd Division was not indicative of just how impressive and accommodating the rest of it was. Air conditioning, ample hallways, and effective use of space made it easy to navigate through and easy to fit all the relevant facilities. It certainly was a whole different beast from the antiquated brick fortress that it seemed to be from the outside. Nicholas and Vinn made small talk as they passed by the various other offices, most of them empty due to how early it was, heading to the Infirmary in the first floor.

“The Infirmary is open practically all the time, and it’s the first place you go to after an assignment, and the last place you go to before clocking out and leaving for the day.” Nicholas explained as he ringed the bell. “Cordiality is nice, but it doesn’t mean much in general in the Seventh, since we are all about getting the job done first and foremost. However, if there’s anyone you gotta be good with, that’s the Infirmary crew, because these people keep us alive. I think you’ll agree with me when I say you’d rather be on good terms with the people in charge of keeping you alive, yeah?”

“Hah, no argument there. I planned to come here first thing after finding the 3rd Division.” Vinn replied, adjusting his vest as Nicholas opened the door. “Hold on, don’t we have to wait for them to give us the ok?”

“I mean, by protocol, yeah, but as long as you ring the bell, Aria doesn’t really mind if you come in, Mister Stiff.” laughed the intel agent. “Can’t blame ya, though. You are the top scorer of this year’s promotion, so I assumed you’d be kinda stiff, but man, trust me, real work is a lot more... Earthly, if you will. Don’t take all those regulations and strict protocols to heart. As long as you do your job, no one minds.”

Vinn shrugged his shoulders as if saying “I guess”, which only prompted another chuckle from Nicholas. Inside the Infirmary, a woman with two large white wings and a long lab coat checked a clipboard and wrote on a little notebook propped on a desk. “Hey, mornin’, doc!” greeted Nicholas, prompting her to turn around with a pleasant smile and kind eyes.

“Hey, Nick, good day! Hm? Who’s the kid?” the doctor enthusiastically replied as she set down her clipboard. “Oh, one of the fresh meat, huh? Hey, I’m the patch up artist around these parts, name’s Aria, a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Aria, I’m Vinn Ingram, ‘fresh meat’ at the 3rd Division. We’ll be seeing each other.”

“Oh, so you are a new intel agent? You’re lucky, Nick is awesome at his job, just, be sure not to catch him before 9:30, he’s kinda--”

“Oh no no, he’s not mine, Aria.” interrupted Nicholas, a wry grin plastered on his face. “Take a wild freakin’ guess who he is partnered with.”

Aria tilted her head in confusion, looked at him real good, the ol’ tip to toe scan with the eyes, and she realized, given his build, that he was no pen pusher. Those strong limbs were for working out in the field. “Wait, Bastian’s!? No way, but it’s the 6th! Any partner of his should have transferred already! Holy moly, you are some next level shit, aren’t you?”

Nicholas laughed out loud while Vinn simply sighed and pinched his nose. “Yeah, I guess I am fecal matter of the next degree. Man, he really is infamous for this, isn’t he?” The two of them laughed, but before Aria replied, she caught the Nicholas’ eyes, insolence brewing behind them.

“Oh... You wanna do that, huh...? Ok... Hey, Vinn, I applaud your manners for not pointing out my wings.” said Aria. “People usually get impressed by them and sometimes, it get uncomfortable, so hey, nice. But, at the same time, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed, since I am proud of them, as an Angel and all.”

Those last words perked Vinn up. “An Angel, you say...?”

“Yup! Ain’t the Seventh impressive? We practically have a demon in Bastian, so we make up for that with an actual Angel in our Infirmary. Not something many offices can claim, yeah?”

It’s true that those impressive, white feathered wings were the definition of majestic in any dictionary you could find, but Vinn didn’t seem impressed at all. “She’s not an Angel, though.” he declared.

“Oh?” Aria smirked. “I am, though. What proof do you have that I am not an Angel? Are you saying these wings are fake?”

“It’s true that you have not moved your wings at all, so they could be a prop, but no, they are the real deal. However, ‘wings’ does not equate to ‘Angel’. No offense intended, but the palms of your hands are very rugged, and your musculature in general suggests heavy physical work, instead of the more magically inclined personality of Angels. Speaking of your hands, you did a pretty good job trimming them, but I can tell those talons grow up to be very strong, sharp, and destructive. You’re not an Angel, Miss Aria, you’re a Harpy.”

The rapid fire analysis left both Nicholas and Aria dumbfounded for all of five silent seconds before they both broke into laughter. “Oh, wow! This kid is the real shit, ain’t he? Damn, when was the last time, anyone saw through this little prank, Nicholas?”

“Wasn’t it Fatima many years ago? Haha, damn, anyways, that was impressive, I’d expect no less from top scorer of this year’s promotion. Nice job, Vinn.”

The young man was getting a bit flustered with all this praise and attention, but thankfully, before he had to say anything, the bell rang again, and the door swung open, a tall, muscular, blonde man wearing sunglasses walking in shortly after.

“Heyo, doc, I’m sorry I didn’t come before, I came t’ greet ya! Name’s... Oh, Ingram?”

“...Hold on, you’re Daryl. Hello.”

“Oh, you two know each other?” Nicholas inquired, resting against a nearby counter top.

“Yeah!” the large blonde lad replied. “We both graduated this year. Ingram’s the top of the class, so I remember him. Didn’t know ya were here, dude.”

“Likewise. I wouldn’t have expected to meet you so soon after graduation. Good to see you. Which division are you on?” Vinn cordially conversed. 

“2nd, the boss woman told me to go greet people already, got kinda mad that I hadn’t yet, so here I am. Heyo doc, and heyo other dude I don’t know, here’s to some good ass work and all that.”

“Nicholas, good to meet you, though I am just the tech dude at the 3rd, it’s this lady you oughta pay your respects to. She’s a nice Angel doctor that’ll keep you in this world, no matter how banged up you get.” the intel agent explained, a chuckle already charging up behind his lips.

“Wait, an Angel!?” yelled the shocked Daryl.

“Oh, don’t say that so loud, I get kinda conscious... But yes, I am Doctor Aria, pleased to meet you. I hope you’ll trust my--!”

In a move that shut everyone in the room, Daryl approached Aria and outright kissed her, holding her chin up to better feel her tongue with his. When it was all said and done, Daryl simply took a contemplative hand to his chin. “Ya ain’t no Angel. You’re a Harpy. See, Angels have soft tongues, and kissing them feels like warm honey bathin’ yer tongue, an indescribable feelin’, really. But yer tongue was thick, rough, and strong. It wasn’t warm honey, it was more like a powerful adversary, a tongue to remember, ‘cause it ain’t easy. I like Harpy kisses far more than Angel kisses, there’s that roughness to them that makes them--”

The sound of her palm meeting his face echoed in the Infirmary.

“How dare you...!?” the doctor exclaimed, slapping him across the face.

“Ooph, yeah, see, Angels don’t slap like that, that’s a Harpy’s strong hand, alriOOPH.”

“What the fuck are you doing, dumbaaaaaaass?!”

The sound of his spine singing a melody of pain and regret echoed in the infirmary as his body was lifted off the ground by a single righteous uppercut.

“Yep, just on time, if you’re in the 2nd, then your partner is...”

“W-woah what the hell!?”

With just a single punch, the large blonde man was downed. Behind him, a brawny, tough-looking woman stood with the River Styx in her eyes, shooting ballistic missiles at the battered young man with her glare.

“I take my eyes off you for one second and you’re already doing dumb shit again! I am so sorry, Aria, this one’s on me, I’ll buy you all your drinks next time we go out drinking, ok? Please forgive this good for nothing piece of shit!” the big woman apologized as she stomped on the downed idiot.

“F-Fiona, don’t worry about it! It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t kill him in the Infirmary, please, that’s a lot of paperwork to deal with!”

Lifting him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the imposing woman desperately apologized. “I’ll educate this dipshit, even if it kills me, or if it kills him! I’ll go now, see y...ou? Hey, who’s this kid, Nick? New techie for the the 3rd?”

“Naw, he’s Bastian’s.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

“I am not dumb enough to lie to you, Fi.”

Fiona’s eyes widened. “You’re legit his partner? Woah, some big fat balls of brass, you must have! Well, kid, introductions will have to wait ‘till later, I have a shithead to lecture. Try not to get killed. Let’s go, you imbecile.”

“M-my spine... Let me get it checked first...” begged Daryl like a beefy, floppy sack of wounded potatoes with all the dignity of a headless chicken.

“Oh, sleep it off, ya wuss, let’s go.”

As fast as she came, this tornado of a woman left, leaving Vinn speechless. “Is she... Is she always like that? Who was that? Did that really just happen?”

“That’s Fiona, and yeah, that’s her modus operandi. Leaving the door open is also part of her, but she’s a lovable tower of muscle and alcohol.” explained the doctor, going back to her clipboard. “Be a dear and close it, will you?”

As Vinn approached the door left open by the human cyclone, he spotted her outside, still carrying Daryl, being lecture by a tall, thin man who had an aura of authority and resignation to him. Before him, however, Fiona couldn’t stop bowing apologetically.

“Well, that’s our Fiona, 2nd Division Exorcist. Watch in awe as she is lectured by the Chief because her cropped tank top, ‘perfume’ that smells like 6 AM tequila, and habit of carrying coworkers like veggies at market spit in the soup of Officewear Regulations. Heh, this is a daily show by now.” Nicholas elaborated, as if watching a movie while eating pop corn. “You know about Oni, Vinn?”

“Oh! She’s an oni? That explains the strength and the pungent stench of alcohol.”

“Nope, she’s married to one, and he’s helping her with her drinking habits.”

“...Classy. So, that’s the Chief, huh? I’d better go say hi to him now.”

“Woah there, buddy, I’d suggest not. He’s lecturing her right now, but he’s a very busy man, especially in the mornings. Leave him for the afternoon.”

“Is he a hardass or something?”

“Not... Quite, just trust me on this one. Let’s go back to our office, Dani should be here by now.”

“If you say so. Bye, Miss Aria, have a good day.”

“Mmhm. Have a good one, you two, I hope you survive, Vinn.” the doctor expressed with no ill will whatsoever, waving a friendly hand goodbye.

                                                        ——-

The more one looked at the office, the more it seemed that the door frame was a portal to a different dimension. How could this pigsty possibly be in the same physical plane, let alone building, than the neat everything else? There was a difference now, however: A lone girl sat by another desk.

“It’s weird not seeing you here first thing in the morning, Nick. I was wondering where you went.” she greeted.

“Yeah, was just showing the newbie around. Lookin’ good, Dani.” Nicholas chimed back with Vinn on tow, who politely nodded as if to greet her.

“Oh? New tech g--”

“Bastian’s partner...” Vinn clarified for what felt like the tenth time this morning.

“What!? Bast--”

“Please.” Vinn begged for what felt like the tenth time this morning. It was getting tedious.

“Oh, pfff, yeah, I guess you’ve already gotten your fair share of dumbfounded responses. Sorry about that! I’m Danielle, just call me Dani, though.” the girl responded before moving away from her desk without standing up, traversing through the pizza boxes and paperwork in a motorized wheelchair, controlled by a little controller on the right hand rest. Of note, her left hand and leg were prosthetic. Accompanied with the soft sound of her wheelchair’s motor’s vibration, Dani approached Vinn and offered her right hand, which he shook. “I’m the communications expert here, and since you’ll be working with us now, you’ll need one of these.” Her prosthetic hand held a firm grip on the bag while her regular hand rummaged in it, the sounds of junk and crumpling plastic raising many questions as to what was actually inside the otherwise trendy looking little bag. With an expression of eureka, she seemed to have finally found the desired item, which he proudly offered to the novice Exorcist: A tin can.

“A... Tin can? Wait, now that you mention it, Bastian had one just like this two days ago...” Vinn pondered, as he examined the item in vain.

“Ah! You were there when the Siren was sent in!? That jerk didn’t mention you at all in his reports! I will have some words with him, the nerve!” Dani fumed as she kicked her feet in frustration, nothing new when regarding Bastian and his old tricks. “Anyways, yes, that right there is a prim and proper tin can, but it may save your life.”

“There’s really nothing special about it, though... I don’t sense anything.”

“Eyup, it’s not until I do this--” With a touch of he right hand’s finger, the can suddenly pulsated, Vinn’s head throbbing as a sharp note drowned everything else in the room, only the can’s ‘heartbeat’ audible to him, until a few seconds later, his senses returned to normal, his head ringing like a struck bell no more. “--llo? Hello? Earth to Vinn?”

“Ugh... Yeah, I hear you... What was that? My head felt like it was going to explode for a second.” Vinn replied, clutching his thankfully unexploded head.

“Yeah, happens the first time. I’ve linked the tin can with you. Now, what this does is...” Danielle moved towards her desk again and held a similar, worn out tin can. “Put that against your ear.” Vinn complied, and once he did, Dani put her own tin can against her mouth, softly whispering words that shouldn’t have been audible to anyone, yet were clear as the skies to Vinn. “And now, we can communicate easily!”

“Woah! That’s... I’ve never seen anything like this! So basically, these are like cellphones now?”

“Better than cellphones!” she declared, chest puffed out. “Cellphones can be traced, need time to make a call, need the other party to notice and accept the call, and if you’re underground? Yeah, not happening. Tin cans are the future of communication! Well, among us, anyways. This is Communications Magic, my area of expertise. Keep that tin can on you at all times, and we’ll be able to talk shit about Bastian at all times, seamlessly and with no interruption.”

“Now that sounds like a good time.”

“Well, I’m sure glad you two seem to have kicked it off well!” Nicholas finally interjected. “Now, you did say something worrying, though: You’ve actually been working the last two days, but Bastian neglected to mention you in his reports, which makes my job difficult. Plus, I don’t have your reports, either.”

“A-ah, well, I wasn’t exactly--”

“Exactly allowed near the office, I know, haha, don’t worry, I’m not going to put you on the spot, all this means is that I will grab Bastian by the neck and have him rewrite his reports. His lack of mentioning you meant to me that you had quit, which is... A pattern, really, so don’t worry, you get a few more days to write your reports, but the sooner you have them for me, the better.”

“Ah, that’s why you reacted that way...” Vinn said, recalling Nicholas’ exasperation earlier. “Well, I hope you don’t have a hard time getting him to re-do those... I already know that he’s--”

“A damn hardass, a jerk, and a piece of shit to work with?” a voice behind Vinn chimed in.

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I was gonna sWhere did you come from and how long have you been there?”

“Aww, I’m glad to know that I have a cute widdle pwartner who wuvs me so much!”

As Vinn turned around, he met face to face with the plastic, hostile grin of Bastian Ashfield, a tall, solidly built man with his wavy ponytail resting on his left shoulder as always. “So can I join your shit-talking power hour? I am like a trebuchet full of excrement, ready to sling the highest quality turds, so? We good? Can I join you fine gents in--Hrg!”

That dull sound just now was a piece of scrap metal hitting Bastian square in the forehead. “You big jerk! You were keeping Vinn out of the office for the last two days and you neglected to even mention him in your reports! As both a person and an Exorcist, you are terrible!”

“Oi, who the hell throws junk metal at people!? At least make it something like a plastic bottle, or a--Argh!”

And that dull sound just now was a broken clock hitting Bastian on the side of his face.

“Don’t talk back!”

“Yes ma’am! Please don’t give me a concussion, ma’am!”

“Denied!”

“Alright, hold it, hold it, please! I’ll stop! Quit chucking assorted reclaimed metals at me!”

“...Are these two like this all the time?” Vinn whispered to Nicholas.

“Just when Bastian’s a dick.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“So yeah, all the time.”

“I see.”

                                                       ——-

“...Well, now that we are all here, I suppose a formal welcoming is due... But first... You clever little rascal. You left home really early, just to avoid me, huh?”

Vinn simply glared at Bastian. “I knew you’d try it a third day. Get off my back, already. I humored your two ‘tests’, and not even knowing what my workplace looks like for three days in a row is not exactly professional.”

“...Tests? Vinn, what did this oaf make you do?” Dani inquired, already reaching for the next piece of junk in her little bag.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything terribly cruel. You’ll see in my report later, but basically, the necromancer of two days ago and a case with a stray demon yesterday. Both ended up well, so-- Hey, speaking of, where’s the necromancer?” Vinn asked, having just remembered the rather high profile criminal they brought in.

“Well, I’m not at liberty to say just yet, but let’s just say you’ll know soon enough.”

“Bastian, could you please treat him like a member of our division already?” sighed the girl.

“Oh, no no, Bastian is not being Bastian for once, he really isn’t at liberty to say.” Nicholas interrupted. “All information on the case -- the necromancer herself, the undead horde, and the fact that a Siren was dispatched -- is all confidential. In fact, we should not discuss it at all. He could actually get questioned by the Blackvests if his lips are too loose.”

“Ah, so it is actually confidential... I was curious myself, too, to be honest. It’s the first actual necromancer in forever, isn’t it?” Dani asked as she drank some of her freshly brewed coffee.

“First I’ve seen in active service, and in general.” replied the seasoned Exorcist. “Sure, you get punks who reanimate rats and dogs here and there, and then we have to go in and put the feral critters out of their mindless misery. But one that has actually reanimated humans? And didn’t even bother thralling them? Just letting the do as they please? That’s very weird, no matter how you spin it. Anyways, I am not lying when I say you’ll know soon enough.” Bastian readjusted himself and reached into one of the many seemingly empty pizza boxes, producing a cold slice and chomping on it. “Let’s go back to the man of the hour, now. Vinn, you’ll have to forgive me, but it was absolutely necessary that I test you in the ways I did. You aren’t an idiot, you could see that Exorcists don’t have the best reputation around, and deservedly so.”

The atmosphere in the room changed. 

“...Yeah. People feared me. People expected me to throw my weight around. People doubted me whenever I showed any cordiality or kindness. Exorcists really are not liked, huh? This is all very different from the Academy.” Vinn recounted, a disappointed sigh escaping him.

“That’s true, because a lot of Exorcists reign through fear, throw their weight around, and only smile when they want something out of you, or worse, when they already have what they need to blackmail you. The Academy is a bubble, Vinn.” Dani explained, her tone serious. “The Academy will make you believe your duty is just and your methods righteous, but in the real world, you can’t just go in blasting everything and coercing the weak into obeying or paying the price”

“Our duty as Exorcists, and related support parties, is to mete out justice in the Mythic affairs, whether that justice needs to clash against a Mythic or against a Human. We are supposed to be the entity that upholds justice, but a lot of Exorcists, well, they just smoke Mythics. We are supposed to stand up for Humans as much as we are for Mythics, but that’s not how it goes in practice.” Nicholas sadly continued.

“And that’s why I needed to test you.” said Bastian as he propped his legs on his desk. “I told you before, but you need to be able to hold your own in a fight, have the brains to figure out solutions to your problems, and have the heart to actually stand up for Mythics. I -- we -- have no use for yet another kid who slings death around to try and be the big strong Exorcist.”

Despite the shoddy appearance of the office, with the ocean of pizza boxes scattered everywhere and sundry junk adorning every corner, the files were where they needed to be, Nicholas’ computer was impeccable, and whatever actually mattered, was there. Messy as it was, it was the office of those who truly cared about their job, and about those said job entailed. Downing some coffee, Vinn took a deep breath.

“...Crude as they may be, I understand the reason behind your methods. I can’t say I’m mad, since it gave me a reality check I’d rather have now instead of later. It’s only... Fair, really.”

“Well,” Bastian replied, “Whether you are mad or not doesn’t really matter to me, what does matter is that you pass the tests. I was gonna tell you as much earlier today, but you eluded me like a slippery eel, which, I hate to admit, is also a good thing, so yeah, welcome to the 7th Office 3rd Division. I’ll work you to the sinews.”

“That’s just his way of being nice. Please do be patient with him, he’s an idiot, after aaAAAH! Damn! Ow ow ow!” Nicholas snarked before his hot coffee came to life and splashed his face, burning him.

“Maybe don’t insult an Hydromancer while holding a nice, fat cup of hot coffee, dumbass.” laughed Bastian.

“Pfff, well, you kinda walked right into that one, Nick, hehe. Still! It’s good to have some new blood in here, so by all means, welcome! I hope you have a good time! Don’t mind the office’s sorry state, we get our job done.” Dani cheerfully informed.

“Yeah, especially since all the pizza boxes are her doing in the first place, our cute little piglet.” taunted Nick, wiping the coffee off his face.

“He didn’t need to know that!”

“...You already put the order for today’s batch, didn’t you?”

“...I cannot confirm or deny that, Bastian.”

“Haha!”

It was a lively little office with just three people in it, four now, but Vinn could tell there was something different here, something he didn’t find in his time in the Academy, nor out in the field during these last two days.

There was a lot of heart and joy here.

There was anxiety, there were nerves, there was a lot of expectation, from both his partner and himself, but ll of those things, he already knew he was gonna feel. What he didn’t know, however, was how much he was going to crave to be part of this little world, where contact was easy and everyone seemed to get along like this.

And just like there’s a shadow by every light cast, so was there a woe that made his heart throb with a pang of concern: Were his people back home ever going to be able to partake in this?

If anything, this only steeled his resolve further. He left the comfortable wilderness for a reason against the protests of everyone that cared for him for this, after all.

“There’s no way I’m going back empty handed now.” he though to himself, after seeing that the human world is capable of compassion.

                                                      ——-

Just as the playful banter was beginning to calm down, someone knocked on the big iron door.

“It’s open, come in!” Nick yelled from the back of the office, already submerged in his files and keyboard once again.

“Please excuse me.”

As the door opened, Vinn perked up as he saw that pair of familiar horns, black like lacquered wood, curved with dignity, protruding through the holes of the wide brimmed hat. It was the tall woman from the morning. The dame simply giggled at his surprise, an elegant hand covering her lips.

“Now, why the surprise? I did say I’d come welcome you properly, no? Have you eased into your job with Nicholas yet? He’s a harsh instructor, but you’ve much to learn from someone with his diligence and experience.” she greeted bemusedly.

“Oh, no no, I’m not here as an info agent, I’m an Exorcist, partner with--”

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Fat Fatima!” the brick that broke cordiality boisterously interrupted. “What do you and your five chins want? Don’t remember having any reason to expect a visit from you.”

“Bastian? What the h--!” tried to reproach Vinn, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Just seconds ago, a gallant lady stood by the door, with a welcoming voice, a friendly disposition, and a kind smile. The very picture of manners and helpfulness. Where, oh, did she go? And when was she replaced by a twin with death in her eyes and wicked claws protruded, ready to slash a jugular or six? 

“Feh, Bastian... I didn’t come to talk to the wondrous sack of shit that pretends he’s people. Mind going back to your stupid magazines? Me and Nick’s new kid want to do some formal introductions, not that you’d know what those are.” snarled the dame, showing what were very clearly fangs.

“Nick’s got no new kid, shithead. If you mean that kid over there, he’s my new partner.”

“Oh, spare me, I’d think you’d at least give my intelligence some credit. Think of some more convincing lies if you wish to mess with me, Bastian.”

“Uh, hey, Fatima... Yeah, he’s not mine. Vinn’s an Exorcist, and Bastian’s partner.”

“What!? So he’s actually got a new partner!?” This reaction seemed to be popular. “Wait, so does that mean... Oh, uh...” The horned woman seemed to be troubled and wracked with guilt out of the sudden. “...Vinn, was it? I profusely apologize for the trouble I’ve no doubt caused you.”

Vinn didn’t really understand where this came from, and tilted his head just slightly in confusion, trying to think what this person he did not know before this morning could possibly mean by that. “I really have no idea what you’re apologizing for, Miss Fatima, you’ve done nothing but show courtesy to me.”

“Oi oi, so I’m just Bastian and ‘a damn hardass, a jerk, and a piece of shit to work with’, but she’s Miss Fatima? I’m glad to see where your loyalties lie, Vinn.” whined Bastian, a mocking hand to his own chest, as if deeply offended, nay, hurt.

“You said those things, I just confirmed them, geez.”

“Ah, allow me to elaborate...” interjected the horned lady. “First of all, I am the 1st Division Exorcist, Fatima Allanach, a pleasure to meet you, Vinn...?”

“Ingram. Vinn Ingram.”

She smiled graciously. “...As to what I did, well, I am the reason the Siren showed up two days ago.”

“Oh, you bitch! I should’ve figured you, of all people, would just call for them to mobilize all those delicious tax patros to give me a hard time! You could’ve killed me in the crossfire!”

“Oh, put a sock on it, Bastian.” -- all the grace she showed to Vinn was replaced by a vulgar hostility when addressing the hydromancer -- “Both of us know you wouldn’t die from a little Siren... Although I can’t say the same for your new partner. Had I know you had someone else there, I would’ve relented, and for that, I’m sorry. I just never... Thought you’d take another partner after Roderick, you know?”

The rooms atmosphere changed as Fatima’s voice softened with those last words. Even though this was the time for one of those patented Bastian Rude Retorts, he simply produced a cigarette, fiddled with it a bit, and then put it back in the pack. “Neither did I. But, well, here we are. And you, Fatima... It’s fine if you want to give me hell, but putting everything aside for a moment, even if its called for, never use the Sirens. Don’t confuse power for a basis of trust. Those things... Are executioners wearing their own coffins. Don’t forget it.”

“...That’s rich coming from you, Bastian.” Her sharp tongue was unsheathed once anew, albeit with a different, far more bitter fervor. “You don’t get to tell me whether I use a tool or not. Sirens are strong, and they can take care of practically any Mythic situation, small or large scale. It’s foolishness not to use an advantage when we have it.”

“Those things are not an advantage, Fatima. They are indiscriminate, they know only to kill and maim, how can you not see this!? We are Exorcists, it is our duty to--”

“--To utterly obliterate those bastards until they understand their place! How many more Humans must die to their savagery before you get this!? How many more Rodericks do we need in the graveyard before you stop spouting such naive drivel, Bastian?! Had a Siren been there with you that day, Roderick would still--”

“Shows how much you know! We’d both be death, and our assailants as well, leaving us with two less Exorcists and no leads whatsoever! Incredible! Great job! I can see why you are the 1st Division Exorcist clearly, with such a clear head absolutely not full of garbage on top of those shoulders!”

“You have no way of knowing that! When will you see the world for what it is already, you utter--”

“Everybody shut up!”

Nicholas’ voice boomed, drowning any whining in the small office, finally putting a stop to the bedlam.

“Don’t yank the chain, Nick, I need to make her understand--”

“Whatever, do that on your free time! You two schedule a nice, steamy, hot date outside of work hours, meet at a restaurant, order a fine beef steak dinner, and then beat the shit out of each other with it, I don’t care, but don’t go doing this in the office!”

Bastian and Fatima simply looked to the floor, or the ceiling, or anywhere that wasn’t Nicholas’ general direction, like scolded children caught trying to look inside the pot before dinner.

“Geez...” sighed the info agent, settling on his chair again. “Every time, you two...”

As if on cue, the office’s phone rang, Danielle dutifully picking it up.

“...Miss Fatima, did you mean that?” Vinn asked, a certain edge midst his cordiality.

“Hm? Did I mean what, exactly?”

“‘To utterly obliterate those bastards’, do you see Mythics that way?”

“...Oh, please don’t tell me you do share this brute’s view on the matter, Vinn? We are not called ‘Mediators’ or ‘Caretakers’, we are Exorcists. We exorcise, we hunt, we exterminate, that’s quite literally the job description. Things are this way for a reason.”

“And what would that reason be, Miss Fatima?” inquired Vinn without missing a beat, standing up. “What about being a human makes me inherently superior, more ‘people’ than a Mythic? We are not dealing with wild beasts, we are dealing with intelligent, sentient creatures who know love, hate, joy, and sorrow just as we do, who have a culture, traditions, and needs. You yourself are a Mythic, I fail to see the logic in--”

“Oh, the young man will watch his words.” Fatima replied with the same hostility she employs with Bastian, finally dropping her softer tone. “What I am doesn’t mean I should see things one way. It’s because I am a beast that I know exactly how terrible we can be.”

“That’s like saying we should destroy all slides in children's’ parks because one time, a kid scrapped his knee.”

“And only a fool would compare Mythics and slides horizontally.”

Vinn’s face was a mask of utter hatred and disdain for the horned Exorcist. “Miss Fatima, I think it’s about time you le--”

“What!? Y-yes, I’ll tell them immediately!” the communications expert yelled as she slammed the phone back on its base. “G-guys! You too, Miss Fatima! We’ve got a big situation down by Manduco #83493!”

“Dani, calm down. What’s the situation?” Bastian calmly asked, sitting back down and quickly picking up his flasks and other utensils. 

“The mass kidnapping from two months ago is happening again! It’s most likely the same perpetrator. It’s going on right now, a laborer that works at that warehouse forgot something, so even though it’s supposed to be closed off today, he went and found a lot of people just... Moving around, as if thralled. The first three divisions are to go there immediately.”

“Thanks, sweetie, that’s all we need. Well, let’s get going, we can’t lose a second.”

“I’ll go get my partner, let’s not waste any time.” Fatima said before disappearing into the hallway.

                                                     ——-

The dark blue car blazed a trail through the asphalt, going as fast as the worn out engine could manage, a bright red van and a dark green motorcycle tailing them. Inside the car, the grim-looking Vinn double checked his handcuffs and other pieces of equipment, a silence and grimace that didn’t escape the driver’s notice.

“Vinn, you good?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the fakest ‘yeah’ I’ve had the honor of hearing. Look alive, this is a real bad situation. We need all six of us with our heads in the game.”

“Yeah.”

“...”

“...”

Bastian could only sigh.

“Oi, Vinn, don’t let what Fatima said get to you. It’s a kick in the dick, but that’s how many Exorcists are. She’s particularly partisan about it, yeah, but it’s better if you get used to it, hopefully manage it better than I do.”

Vinn only responded with a half-hearted chuckle and a few seconds of silence before reviving the dialogue. “I could understand it if it were anyone else, really, but Miss Fatima specifically is... Inconceivably weird. She was very cordial and kind before then, and is a Mythic, to boot, yet, she wants to kill her own kind so viciously? It goes beyond duty-bound hatred, that was just genuine hatred, how could you feel that way towards your own people?”

The usual brashness of the seasoned Exorcist was nowhere to be found, the sounds of the worn out motor filling in for dialogue for a few streetlights before Bastian found the strength to continue talking. “It’s... Complicated. Don’t hate her, please, she’s got her own problems.” Vinn almost fell out of the car upon hearing this. This had to be the first time he heard Bastian talk about someone so softly. He suspected they had a past from the previous conversation, but this only really confirmed it, especially if it was about someone he was just having a flat out shouting contest with moments ago. The dense mood was already suffocating enough, and they had a job to do right now, anyways, it was a good time to change topics.

“...So, these mass kidnappings... Damn, what a creepy name. Two months ago was the first one, right? How come they are deploying Mythic Law Enforcement for it now?”

“Well, last time, authorities had no idea magic was involved, but after investigating the area believed to have been where it took place, based on witness accounts of seeing the victims heading that way, heavy amounts of mana residue were found, suggesting that it was no mere mass kidnapping... Not that mass kidnappings are commonplace, anyway. So, it’s now a MAB affair.”

“Ah! Take this left, it should be there... Yeah, lots of cop cars. They must be barring civilian entry to the area. That’s a relief, at least.”

Bastian took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel harder. “Well, ideally, I wanted to ease you into the job with easier cases, help you get to know Stroln as a city, with its Mythic underground world and all, but destiny calls, I suppose. This isn’t me underestimating you, but try to stick with me at all times. I have a stinkin’ feelin’ that this might get nasty.”

“...Got it.”

                                                     ——-

In front of the six Exorcists, the massive warehouse stood with its service door open, the lock smashed to junk by its foot. The structure was clearly from Pre-Amnesiac times, but well maintained and still in regular usage.

“...I don’t like this. It stinks.” said Fiona, 2nd Division Exorcist, assessing the situation. “This is no abandoned joint, the lock was smashed too neatly, and you’d have to be a fool to have such a flagrant vulnerability to your million patros business screamin’ to be exploited like this. What do you guys think?”

“Fully agreed.” Bastian commented. “We oughta have words with the owner or parent company of this place after we’re done here. As Fiona said, this is simply too suspicious. The lock really just looks like its there so they can file a police report on unlawful entry and claim innocence. It’s unlikely for any magic criminal to be so nuanced as to break a little lock, they’d usually go for a bigger door, especially if it’s a mass kidnapping.”

“Correct. They probably didn’t even use this service door.” Fatima added. “They probably opened the big cargo gate over there to get all the people inside, nice and neatly, and then simply smashed this lock to make it seem like they aren’t working with the owners of this place. This whole thing stinks.”

Behind the seasoned trio, the novice partners observed in awe how quickly their would-be mentors were piecing together the puzzle in front of them before even stepping in the building. The duties of an Exorcist include the subjugation of magic-wielding and supernatural criminals, negotiation with such individuals, and all around keeping this secret magical world hidden, but an important part of being an Exorcist is to play the role of detective as well. An Exorcist is, after all, the do-all end-all authority in the world of Mythic Law Enforcement, having powers and duties far beyond their mundane equivalents.

“They look and act like washed up garbage after a cruiser accident on the coast, but seein’ them like this really reminds you they are veteran Exorcists, don’t it?” Daryl commented, breaking the silence between the novices. 

“The way your worded that was really weird, but I know exactly what you mean.” Vinn responded. However, standing beside Daryl and Vinn was a third person who had not opened her mouth, simply looking at the experienced Exorcists work their craft and plan out how to advance. Vinn and Daryl both recognized her, and it is precisely because of that that the latter knew they shouldn’t bother trying to include her in the conversation, and why the former, who had zero social awareness back in the Academy, made the mistake of taking the initiative.

“...So, Nadja, I didn’t know you were assigned to the 7th as well.”

“...”

“Miss Fatima’s your partner, huh? Must be good working with her.”

“Interested in her looks, I gather?”

Vinn lifted his arms as if surrendering. “What? No, I mean how professional she is and all that. Anyhow, I don’t think we’ve ever talked, I’m V--”

“Vinn Ingram. Top scorer of our year.”

“Yup, the one.”

“...”

“...”

“...Pppffff, that went swimmingly, ya smooth operator.” chuckled Daryl.

“Oh, can it, at least I don’t go kissing girls randomly to determine their species.”

“Yeah, you don’t, and that’s really sad.”

“Hrrg...”

“Alright, coffee break over, kiddos, here’s the plan.” Fiona called suddenly, the novices perking up and giving her their attention. The anxiety of their first real operation, not to mention a rare cooperative operation between different Divisions, was beginning to well up in their guts. “Alright, so, the people are most likely still inside. Bringing a large amount of people here unnoticed, while not easy, is doable, but shipping them all together from here to wherever their destination is is another story. They are most likely waiting for a large transport, a bus or a series of van, maybe a large truck, we don’t know, and they are holding fort inside for now. We don’t know how many men it takes to keep all these people in there, but expect heavy resistance. We’ll go together, but if we need to split for whatever reason, stick to your partner. Questions? I hope not, because we ha--”

“A question.”

“Shoot, Nadja.”

“What level of lethality are we allowed?”

“Ideally, just enough to disable them. We have questions, they have answers. That means you shouldn’t use those things attached to your ankles.”

Nadja’s build was lithe, graceful, like a panther, and that made the large, black devices on each ankle stand out all the more. What looked like the point of a silver stake protruded downwards from the end of the device.

“Understood.”

Bastian spoke up now. “Alright, if that’s it, let’s head in. Keep chit chat to a minimum, and if you must talk, do it as silently as possible.”

                                                    ——-

Nary a footstep could be heard from the six trained individuals, moving like the shadow of a ghost across the large industrial complex-slash-warehouse. Something was clearly wrong with this place, as the air was stagnant, there were no signs of struggling whatsoever, and every door and window inside, in stark contrast with the service door, was neatly unlocked and undamaged, giving fuel to the veterans’ speculation, much to their dismay. They didn’t have to navigate much until the first shadow of adversity loomed close, by the internal courtyard. It was one at first, and then two, and then three, and then seemingly an endless amount of them, silhouettes walking as if entranced by a wicked siren’s song.

“...! Halt! I see many of them, and they are... You gotta be kidding me... Bastian, look at what they are wearing.” Fatima whispered, pointing towards a little window to their side that led to the courtyard.

If concern had a shape, it was Bastian’s face. “...Large pig masks and red robes. This is bad. Really bad.” Bastian mused, a bead of sweat running down his brow.

“Hm? Hey, hey, uncle, what’s wrong? Didja get cold feet over some costumes? What’s wrOW OW OW!” inquired Daring Daryl with the delicacy of an hydraulic press, as Fiona used one hand to cover his mouth and the other to give him an excruciatingly painful shoulder death grip.

“You beefy sack of crap!” Fiona chastised in whispers. “Flappin’ yer gums when you don’t know shit will only get you a Fiona Massage from now on! The grotesque pig mask and red robes are synonymous with a top wanted criminal, the Hog Priest! This is bigger than we could’ve imagined. Stay on your toes, everyone.”

“The Hog Priest has evaded capture several times, and there’s reports of them being sighted in multiple places at once... I suppose this explains it, though. It’s a legion of them.” pointed out Nadja.

The courtyard had a strange, purplish fog blanketing it, and in it, the pig-masked people wandered aimlessly, sometimes bumping into each other, sometimes tripping and picking themselves up clumsily, and in general, simply drifting along. Some stood still, vacant, some jogged slightly before calming down and clutching their chest, and all in all, it was a miserable spectacle.

“...Something’s wrong.” Fiona warned while putting on a pair of fingerless gloves, akin to those used by MMA fighters.

“Hm? Whatcha mean? They are just bobbin’ and... Oh.”

Daryl’s trap was shut tight once he realized little by little, they had all been stopping, and now, they all stood still, looking directly into the little window where they had been observing the courtyard from. No, not directly into the window, it was directly into their very eyes.

A suffocating, paralyzing, complete silence lasted all of two seconds before the window was smashed, a small canister almost hitting Fatima in the head being the culprit, from which an ominous gas shot from little pressurized holes.

“...Tear gas! Get out!”

In a frenzy, they jumped out of the window, out the gas’ range and right into a courtyard full of pig-headed foes that held pipes, shovels, and all manners of improvised weaponry, looking straight at them.

Not five seconds passed before an alarm siren loudly gave our Exorcists a warm, deafening welcome, sending all of the robed villains into a frenzy.

“Curses! Here they come! Defend yourselves and try to find a way out of here!” Fatima yelled, assuming a defensive stance and blocking a shovel strike with her bare hand.

As soon as the horde began its restless assault, the sinister purple fog that permeated the courtyard intensified, obstructing sight and puzzling the senses with its oddly calming fragrance. It was every man and woman for themselves, Bastian utilizing water to block the weapons and to push his assailants to the ground with immense pressure, Fiona disarming them with expert martial prowess, and Fatima simply utilizing a retractable baton to parry and disarm those who would attempt to harm her. In stark contrast, the novices were expending far more effort in the fight, visibly struggling, not for lack of strength or skill, but rather, because they simply didn’t know how to engage a foe without destroying them. Killing the enemy is easy, but when your duty is to subdue the enemy without killing them or doing enough harm that you’ll ruin their life from there on is an art all of itself, an art that the Mythic Law Enforcement Academy wasn’t keen on teaching. The lacking curriculum was showing all of its weaknesses. That, and a sinister whisper that was invading their mind, which made itself more and more apparent, numbing their reactions, misleading their movements.

“W-what in the world is this...? It’s like there’s a compelling whisper inside of my head... Someone warm and kind, someone I trust, telling me to drop my guard when they attack or to soften my body whenever I try to disable one...!” Nadja said as she unsuccessfully tried to take a shovel away from a masked minion, who simply shrugged her off and shoved her right to the floor.

“Is it the fog? No... It couldn’t be, the fog is welcoming, it’s familiar, a scent of my childhood, it couldn’t...” Vinn lamented, seemingly giving himself up to an incoming lead pipe strike before Daryl pushed him out of the way.

“Oi, you damn idiots! Where’s yer Domunus Tecum!” Daryl chastised, holding off the criminals with his huge frame.

“Domunus Tecum...” “Domunus Tecum!”

The second of the Six Spell of Self Defense, the spell of protection and shielding, a prayer for resilience. No sooner the two novices put their barriers up, their minds cleared and their bodies could move as they wanted them to. The whisper was still in their heads, but it wasn’t compelling and absolute as it was before.

“Just what is this voice? I’m not the only one that can hear it, right?” the exasperated Vinn asked as he used his many handcuffs and his colorful, unorthodox fighting style to subdue attackers.

“Bad news is what it is. Keep your Domunus up and strong, don’t stop pouring mana into it, or that whisper will claim your mind.” Fiona warned, fighting the good fight.

“C-chief! Hold the presses! These guys...!” Daryl screamed suddenly, a robed figure captured tightly in arms, unmasked. “Chief Fiona, these people are brainwashed civilians! Look!”

The face of the woman in Daryl’s grasp was catatonic, to say the least. A vacant expression and half-lidded eyes that looked nowhere, drool and tear lines telling a story that thousands of words couldn’t hope to match. “Oi, we gotta disable them without harmin’ them! They are just meat shields!”

“Shit...! That means there’s one mastermind out there, and they are just exhausting us! Fatima, do you think--”

As if his mind was being read, Bastian couldn’t finish what he was saying before Fatima was right by his side. “--you could use your poison to--”

“Neutralize them? Yeah, if I control the dosage, I can make it so I can knock them out with a sting each, enough to paralyze their muscles and yet not leave any lasting damage. I’ll need some help keeping them off me while I do this to each one of them individually, though.”

“I gotcha!” Fiona proudly declared, rolling to where they were, dodging several shovel strikes. “Daryl and I can keep ‘em corralled while your girl defends you directly, and Bastian and his boy can go for the brains.”

“I agree to this plan, but, poison? What do you have in mind? Do you have enough for all these people?” Vinn wondered, joining them.

“Oh, don’t worry about her, after all...”

With a wild smirk, Fatima leaped high into the air, her arms growing green fur, and a wicked scorpion tail, massive and heavy, protruding from her back, just under two pairs of feathered wings. Where there once was her elegant face now lies a lion’s roaring maw. She was much bigger than before, her impact on the ground sending several masked minions off balance.

“...She’s a Manticore. And a fat one at that, so she oughta have a lot of calories to turn to venom.” Bastian explained.

“STOP CALLING ME FAT, JACKASS.” the massive Manticore Fatima roared, deft swipes of her scorpion tail knocking out minion after minion, barb oozing with venom.

“We’ve got this area, you two! Get going! Whoever’s behind the fog, the whispers, and this mess is no doubt in that building over there. It’s the only structure to have a clear path to the streets in case they need to escape, and where they can survey all of this area!” explained the bruiser Fiona, joining Daryl in trying to corral the remaining minions with their superior physical strength.

“Yeah, we’ll get this over in a second. Let’s roll, Vinn!”

                                                   ——-

Two pairs of footsteps echoed in the smaller building, dark and permeated with the fog. Bastian and Vinn both had their Domunus barrier on at full strength, the incessant whispers of the once-compelling voice never going silent.

“This keeps getting worse and worse...” lamented Bastian, double checking how much water he had left in his flasks. “Vinn, do not let up your barrier. It could mean death.”

“What is this whispering, anyways? I’ve never felt anything like it, and I don’t think I’ve read on this before.”

“It could be a curse, but there’s not been enough time to set up one of this nature with such an intensity, so what I think is... Vinn, are you familiar with Mindreaders?”

“Of course, those who can read minds and such. It’s theorized that, Pre-Amnesia, Mindreading was highly illegal and dangerous, given how many surviving records there are that explain, in great detail, how to defend against it. It’s considered useless now, since everyone worth a lick of salt in the arcane arts learns how to counter it.”

“Textbook answer, as usual.” -- Bastian chuckled -- “Well, what I think we’re up against right now, and I hope I’m wrong, is a Mindscreamer.”

“A what?”

“Mindscreamer. It’s the opposite of a Mindreader. Instead of being able to read your thoughts, Mindscreamers practically broadcast their thoughts into others by force. Whatever they think, you ‘hear’ inside your head. They can also make it so their thoughts are subliminal and subconscious in your brain, controlling your behavior to a degree. It’s a really damn frightening power.’

“What...?” Vinn couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and yet, the constant whispering in his brain since the courtyard brawl began proved that these were no lies. “I’ve never heard of Mindscreamers before, what kind of wicked art is this? You’d think it’d be more popular, with how powerful it sounds.”

“That’s the thing: You can’t learn how to Mindscream. Mindscreamers are born, it’s not a skill, it’s genetic and exclusive to certain individuals, but we don’t know much about it. In a way, that means that, yeah, we don’t really have to worry about it falling in the hands of just about any thug, but... It also means we are up against someone very special, and that knows what they are doing. Take this fog, for instance.”

“I noticed... This fog smells like incense, like chamomile, specifically, but it’s actually haunted. It’s Incense Magic, and this is tailored to numb the senses and lower your mental defenses.”

“Clever boy. Indeed, the incense lowers one’s mental barriers, which makes you susceptible to the Mindscreaming. Whoever is doing this is competent, do not drop your guard. This is how they kidnapped all of these people almost effortlessly: They simply made them come ‘of their own free will’ with Mindscreaming... Sick bastards.”

The Exorcist duo kicked open a door in front of them at the end of a long hallway, and inside, an immensely dense cloud of magic incense blocked their sight. The air was stagnant, almost putrid, and there were things in this room. Piercing glares that couldn’t be seen but could perfectly be felt stabbed the two Exorcists as soon as they entered the room. Before long, a couple of pig-masked minions, brainwashed civilians, no doubt, slowly became discernible in the dense purple fog, with bright, neon-like markings making them stand out in the fog. They moved with far more coordination than the courtyard fodder, shuffling around, circling, keeping their distance, never moving too close, but never straying too far from the surrounded agents. Bastian lashed at a cluster with a tendril of holy water, missing the mark completely as they swiftly moved out of the way.

“...The Mindscreamer is in this room. They are being controlled too well, too skillfully. These aren’t like the puppets we fought on the first fl--!”

The subtle whisper of cold steel sliding through flesh cut the older Exorcist off as a knife plunged deep in his torso from the left, a masked minion without any neon markings having made it past his watchful eye as his focus was on the neon marked masks, a pained grunt and a hammer of pressurized water impacting against his assailant punctuating his sentence instead. “Mother fu... Clever bastards...”

“Bastian, are you ok!? Damn, they are using neon marked and non-marked masks! While we focus on the barely visible neon, they come at us with the plain ones. What a cheap tactic...”

“Cheap it may be, but it’s working! Focus on defending!”

Even with In Te Fallitur, the first spell of detection and true sight active, the sheer magic density of the incense made it difficult to see nonetheless, their vision improving just slightly. Assault after assault, the duo was sustaining more and more injuries at the hands of this well utilized assassin horde. Whenever a neon mask moved, two plain masks slid in the gaps of their perception, getting closer and closer, until they could hurt either Exorcist. Their attacks didn’t pack much power against the protected Exorcists, individually, but as the damage piled on, it was clear this was a battle of attrition they were not going to win by any means, especially considering that their enemies were but brainwashed civilians they couldn’t bring themselves to hurt seriously. 

“Haa... Haa... Bastian, can you make an intense flash of light somehow? With a flashbang or some small spell?”

“...Sounds like you have an idea... I can, but what do you want to do with it?”

“There’s really no time to explain!” Vinn barked as he parried an incoming knife just in time with a pair of handcuffs. “Just play it cool and shoot it right above that big group over there!”

“Vague ideas are better than no ideas at all, and we can’t keep this up for much longer... Alright, Aureola Oblito!”

As the spark that would soon become an explosion of intense light approached its point of contact, the ceiling above the horde’s densest point, the nimble Vinn Ingram lunged towards its center like a wolf in blood-starved hunt, shoving past the henchmen and women, and defending against pipes and knives. When he finally reached it, he yelled at Bastian, which he considered the signal, and looked down immediately.

“Praemium!”

Upon command, the little spark went supernova, a blinding light engulfing the room immediately, with every meat puppet in the room covering their eyes as if blinded, and yet, the light was rapidly devoured by the fog after its initial explosion. As the light faded, however, a man’s loud scream of pain echoed at the end of the room. It wasn’t Vinn’s or Bastian’s, it was the man who wore a plain pig’s mask in the middle of the horde, a knife sticking out of his arm, courtesy of Vinn.

“...How did you know?” the pig-headed man inquired, and he was immediately sent barreling backwards by a kick straight to the head, also courtesy of Vinn.

“You looked down to avoid the light. All of these people are brainwashed and not conscious, thus, blinding them wouldn’t do a thing to them. We’ve been striking them for a while now, and they show no sign or reaction of pain. You just made them act as if they were blinded, and joined in the act, but you yourself looked down so as to not be blinded, while the rest didn’t. Good try, though.”

“Quickly, stop flapping your gums and actually catch him!” Bastian screamed as he made his way through the now far less coordinated horde.

Vinn complied, but as he approached him, the Hog Priest lashed out with a large dagger, rolling backwards after Vinn stepped back to avoid being lacerated. Before Vinn could make his way to him, however, the Priest and another exact look alike became entangled in a strange dance, with many more plain masked minions joining in, and then, they all ran in different directions.

“...! Shit, clever bastard! There’s no way to tell which one’s the real one!”

“Don’t lose your cool, Vinn! The third one to the right is heading towards that staircase, which likely leads to a room adjacent to the streets, while the one to the far left is going towards a door, likely with the same idea in mind! The others are running randomly, but those two make sense in their retreat! It’s either of them, go after the right one, I’ll get the left one, go!”

“You may be a nasty customer, but damn, you pull your weight, Bastian! Good thinking! Catch him!”

                                                  ——-

Vinn chased the figure that might be the real Hog Priest ceaselessly, door after door, hallway after hallway, until the figure stopped in the middle of a large storage room with no windows, no doors, no exits. Cornered at last, the Hog Priest simply turned around and faced the Exorcist, the eyes of the disgusting, realistic pig’s head mask meeting Vinn’s green own. 

“It’s dead end for you, piggy. Undo the incense and the mind control, and turn yourself in nice and easy. Without your horde, you are out of luck.”

“Hmhm... Haha! Very nice, you... What a cruel mistress luck is, having me do this with you, of all people...” the muffled voice from behind the mask praised, a distinctly softer, different voice from the one before, which didn’t escape Vinn’s attention. “Now, you might be thinking, ‘did I get the right guy?’, and I have good news and bad news for you!” -- the Priest struck a cutesy and quirky pose while saying this, pointing at Vinn -- “Which do you want first?”

“P-pardon...?”

“I said! Which! Do you want! First! Good news or bad news!”

“...Good news?”

The exaggerated Priest lifted his arms in mock excitement, clapping and cheering excitedly with chants of “Woo! Exorcist! Exorcist!” before finally assuming a new pose. “Alright, so, the good news! The good news are that you have indeed caught the Hog Priest, congratulations!”

“...But your vo--”

“--ice is not the same you heard before, right? Yeah, about that... Here’s more good news: There’s two of us! So no matter which one of us you followed, and you followed both of us, there were only winning picks!”

Vinn immediately produced two pairs of handcuffs. “So, two of you, huh...? Well, that’s twice the questions we get to ask then, those are pretty good news.”

“Sadly, I also am obligated to tell you the bad news.” the Priest sadly informed, sticking an hand inside of his robes and producing a baseball bat covered in various, strange runes, pointing it at Vinn. “The bad news is that you die here.” she announced with an arctic voice unlike her variety show host demeanor of seconds before, taking a step forward and sending thunderbolts down Vinn’s spine. It was not the first time he’d been face to face with mortal danger, it was not the first time his life has been at risk, it was not the first time he was faced with a strong opponent. But, it was the first time in Vinn’s life that his body and mind screamed for him to get out of there fast, a primal, visceral flight response that didn’t even pretend to bother with the ‘fight’ half.

The bat came faster than a bullet from above, Vinn managing to block it only by reaction, leaving him wide open to kick to the gut which knocked the air out of him, and a subsequent palm strike to the chin that sent him barreling backwards against the wall. The Exorcist, in a panic, produced his standard issue handgun, pointing it at the Priest.

“You should’ve keep me close. Hands up, Hog Priest.”

“...That’s not even a Shootist Gun, that’s just a regular one. You... You are not taking this seriously, are you?”

Vinn took aim at his enemy’s leg and let loose a round, hoping to incapacitate him, but a simple swipe of the bat deflected the bullet right out of its path, the battered projectile hitting the wall next to Vinn’s head, missing him by a hair. “What the...!?”

“You really are a novice, huh. Should’ve kept to patrols and such, instead of getting roped into this hell. Then again, you yourself willing dropped into the wolf’s maw the moment you decided to become an Exorcist. Is the paycheck of a murderer really that tempting?”

“Not all of us are murderers! We’re trying to change it, we’re trying to heal this rotten system from within, which is more than can be said of mass kidnappers like you, so don’t you try and lecture me about moral codes!”

“Ah, yeah, in the eyes someone that doesn’t know what’s going on, of course it’s gonna look like we are the bad guys. ‘Changing it from within’, that’s some prime, class-A bullshit. You can’t possibly believe that. You’re smart enough to know you are but one good seed among a fetid, infected crop. You won’t fix the harvest by yourself.”

The Priest lowered his bat and pointed towards the door. “Leave.”

“...Huh?”

“You are outmatched. Leave through that door, exit the warehouse through the office sector, and desert the Mythic Affairs Bureau. Never again take on the mantle of the Exorcist, do something else. It’s for your own good. Do this, and I will not take your life. I will even guarantee you safe passage until you are out of Stroln.”

Vinn struggled to pick himself up after the brief but intense beating he sustained, putting his evidently useless handgun away. “...Why are you giving me a way out? What do you mean by a ‘good seed’?”

The disgusting pig in front of him tapped the “ear” of his mask. “A little bird told me that you do sincerely care for Mythics. You helped out a demon yesterday, helped him find a job that allows him to feed on human emotions without harming anyone when you simply could’ve smoked him. You’re a good person in a bad guy’s job, so I’m willing to compromise... No, I want to let you live. We need more people like you in the world.”

The disappointment in the hog’s fake eye was palpable when Vinn took a fighting stance instead.

“...Last chance, Exorcist. I’ll hold back no more.”

“How about you fuck off. I’m not gonna get lectured on morality by someone who brainwashes a bunch of people for a mass kidnapping. I’m through trying to reason with you. I’m done playing sweet. Let’s go for real.”

With a sigh and a head scratch, the hog picked up his bat and assumed a combat stance again. “I really wish we could’ve done this differently, but if you insist... I’ll give you a proper burial, at least.”

“Domunus Tecum!” the Exorcist chanted, renewing his protective spell, but he was not done. “Hostem Repellas Longius!” As he chanted this spell, a faint, red light covered Vinn’s body. Hostem Repellas Longius, the third of the Six Spells of Self-Defense, the spell of hostility, offense, and righteous violence. Simple as they may be, the strength of the Six Spells does indeed lie in simplicity, and with every brick you put on top of a good base, you get closer to making a wall. With attack and defense ready, Vinn put away one pair of handcuffs, holding only one with his left hand.

No more words were shared between the two, and they clashed fiercely in the middle of the spacious storage room, handcuffs meeting bat, the colliding steel singing a frantic sonata to which these individuals who couldn’t be more conflicted danced vigorously. Overhead strike, left swipe, shin kick, neck shot, eye gouge, they tried it all, and none could land. Vinn certainly seemed much different than before, and in a moment of carelessness, the Exorcist managed to grab the bat by the head.

“...! What’s with this grip!? Let go!” the Priest wined, struggling to get the bat back.

“Sure, here you go.”

Vinn’s hand glowed a dim silver and suddenly began vibrating at extreme intensities, the sheer force from the vibrations hurting the Priest’s arm, making her lose her balance from the pain. Using this opening, Vinn threw the bat away and lunged with his hand, grabbing the Priest by the shoulder, gripping hard for just a second before a skillful twirl of the Priest’s arm allowed him to set himself free.

“What was that...? You didn’t have enough time to do any of that weird vibration stuff to me.”

“It’s over, Priest. Don’t use your left arm and just surrender.”

The Priest simply laughed. “That bat thing was surprising, but you didn’t do anything to me. Now I know to watch out for it. I don’t feel bad at all, in fact, it’s like my left shoulder feels even better than before! Sucks to be y--!”

As the Priest picked the discarded bat back up with his left arm, an explosion of blood gushed from his shoulder, the sheer force of it shredding even the red robe and exposing his flesh, the Priest tumbling to the side and falling to the concrete ground, clutching his bloody mess of a shoulder as he screamed in agonizing pain. “W-what the fuck did you do to me!? Aaaargh!”

“You got confident without even knowing my style of magecraft, and now you’re paying the price. It’s simple in theory: Flux Magic. I know how to control the eb, flow, and movement of mana particles.”

“Haha, what...?” laughed the Priest, still in pain. “That’s... Fucking crazy... So that vibration was just you making a mass of mana vibrate at immense speed... You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“And your shoulder just now was me injecting you with an immense amount of mana, more than your body could possibly handle. Hence, when you moved the afflicted part, it burst like that. You were feeling well because you literally had an injection of energy given to you.”

“Clever bastard, first I see of anyone applying such an otherwise ignored principle of magic emission, Flux, in this creative a way. Hats off to you, friend. I suppose I gotta show my hand now.”

“Wait, if you move with that wound--”

Vinn’s warning fell upon deaf ears as the Priest, left shoulder oozing blood, dashed right against Vinn to renew his assault. Handcuffs parried the bat, but it was nothing more than a feint, Vinn’s stomach catching a knee that made him double in pain. As he tried to get his bearings, the bat’s runes glowed an eerie teal, the weapon bludgeoning Vinn in the side, sending him tumbling.

“Alright, let’s see what we get... Become The Body Of His Innermost Shackles! Terror Ink!”

From within the robes of the Priest, a turbulent torrent of ink exploded forth, covering the bat and transmogrifying it into what looked like a bizarre, serrated hoop weapon. Upon seeing it, Vinn was left speechless.

“Why... Why do you have that...!? That’s impossible!”

One didn’t have to look at the face behind the mask to know that the Priest’s expression was currently a smug grin. “So this is what you fear the most, huh...? Weird weapon. I can’t begin to imagine what its wielder must have done to terrify you so. This is Rorschach Magic, the Terror Ink. Anything inscribed with the right runes and provided with the ink can turn into the biggest fear of whatever it strikes. In this case, this weird... Hoola hoop thingy... Whatever it is. Well, let’s test it, shall we?”

The Hog Priest’s assault was renewed again, slashing and swiping with the bizarre ring-like weapon, one of the ends of the ‘ring’ detaching and flailing wildly as if seeking Vinn with a mind of its own. “Oh! It detaches! So it’s like a bladed whip, too!”

“Put that away! You have no idea what you’re playing with!”

“Nah, I’m good, now please die quietly, or at least making a funny noise!”

The weapon was extremely confusing. It moved with a mind of its own, one end reattaching and the other detaching at seemingly random swings, clearly not the Priest’s doing, wounding Vinn with each tricky, impossible twirl of the notched edges. Vinn, catching him by surprise, leaned forward instead of retreating anymore, as his back would hit the wall any second now, and clinched the Priest, trying to knock his weapon away, his superior positioning allowing him to elbow the Priest right on the wounded shoulder.

“Hraaa!”

“You’re done!”

But as Vinn went for another deadly grip, on the exposed parts of the Priest’s robe, thanks to the earlier bloody burst and the tugging their clinch had brought to their clothes, he saw something that he simply couldn’t comprehend.

Just below the left shoulder blade, there it was, a tattoo that he was sure was the circular object wreathed in something spiky he briefly saw on the girl yesterday. Seeing this, he immediately shoved the Priest and made some distance.

“Ooph! What...? You’ll really regret giving me space to move ag-- Huh?”

“You... Are the girl from yesterday, aren’t you? The one who helped me with Mathanac!”

“...”

“Why are you doing this? It’s you, isn’t it? I recognize the tattoo. You are the same height, too, now that I think about it.”

“...Aha, shit.”

With his free hand, nay, her free hand, the Priest removed the large pig mask and tossed it aside. Behind it was a beautiful girl with striking magenta eyes and shoulder length white hair, her right lock dyed black. A tragically familiar face, with a pained, regretful smile.

Just yesterday, they were hanging out in the streets of Stroln, trying to find Mathanac a job.

“Hey there, Mister Exorcist. Cat’s out of the bag, it seems!”

“Why are you doing this...?” the anguished Vinn inquired.

“Hey now, it’s not like we are lifelong friends or nothin’, don’t get all dramatic on me. This is just... Who I am, really. One half of the Hog Priest, protector of Mythics, and seeker of clarity.”

“What does that even mean? Why kidnap so much people?”

“Mister Exorcist... Vinn. Look, please, just walk away. Pretend this never happened. It’s impossible for you to believe me right now, I understand, but you gotta trust me, we are doing this for the common good. It sure as hell doesn’t look like it now, but this is all for the good not just of Stroln, but of the world. We need these people, and we’re not gonna hurt them or anything! I promise!”

“How can I possibly believe that when every moment since I stepped in here has been a fight to just stay alive?!”

“If Exorcists were the kind of people that you could explain things to, we wouldn’t need to do this! You are decent, Vinn, but you are the exception! Exorcists are a rotten bunch! There’s simply no more time, we need to--”

In the middle of her impassioned speech, an alarm went off on the bulky wristwatch the girl was wearing. 

“...Tsk. Vinn, this is my last warning.” she murmured, with softness and honesty, not a hint of hostility to her voice. “You really are a good guy. I could tell from how much effort you put into helping Mathanac yesterday, and with how much respect you treated him. Please, walk away. Retire from the Exorcists, and leave Stroln. It’s going to get ugly, and we need people like you in the coming world, people that will receive Mythics with arms wide open. If we meet again in these conditions, know that I will not show you a shred of mercy.”

“...The coming world? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Good bye, Vinn. And for both our sakes, let’s not meet again until the next world arrives.”

The wicked weapon in her hand suddenly turned black, and then seemed to melt. As the ink peeled from it, its true shape as a baseball bat returned. Pulling a little detonator from the robe’s pocket, the girl smeared some of the neon paint the other masks had across her face and smiled farewell as she pressed it, an explosion nearby blasting a hole in the wall.

                                                 ——-

                                                                            Meanwhile, in another room,                                                                            in another part of the building...

“Isn’t the view up here just divine, Bastian Ashfield?”

“Yeah, I gotta give it to you, man. You’ve gone and given me the perfect scenario, not gonna lie.”

“Oh? Is that so? Would you mind elaborating?”

“I ain’t much of a nature landscape fan, but urban stuff? Cities? My jam. Love ‘em. I also love interrogating domestic terrorists. In some minutes, I’ll be making you spit blood, curses, and answers while enjoying the beauty of Stroln in the afternoon, and that? That’s priceless. If I had a nice, bodacious babe to praise me while I’m kneeing you in the throat, it’d be my second birthday, not gonna lie.”

“Haha! Confidence is really good. Exorcist scum really dream big, don’t they?”

“Damn right we do, and I dream the biggest of them all. So, are we done flirting?”

“Very much so, Ashfield.”

The banter was followed with silent sizing up, not one of the two men moving an inch as they stood on top of the main building’s rooftop. It had been an arduous, lengthy pursuit, but it all came to this. Face to face at last with the wanted criminal, Hog Priest, the Hydromancer was already grinning like a madman. He truly had been waiting for a chance to unwind, you see.

Without warning, a sharp, potent tendril of pressurized water lunged directly towards the Priest like a lance, only to be met with an invisible wall, mana sparks and the sound of magical diffusion concluding with a mass of useless water falling helplessly to the floor. Stretching his arms, the Priest let out a chuckle, hundreds of incense sticks popping out of his robes all over his body.

“What...?”

“Vervain incense, Ashfield.” the Priest explained mockingly. “Very strong magic retardant. For once in your life, splashing water around won’t save you.”

“Incense Magic... Never thought I’d come across someone wacky enough to weaponize it for combat. Still, defense seems to be your only strong point, so I just need to punch through and I’ll be gold.”

“And how do you figure you’ll do that?”

“Well, I could do this, for starters.”

Just as suddenly as the first tendril, two massive jets of water erupted behind Bastian, propelling him with immense speed towards the Hog Priest, getting close enough to use a pressurized water slash that came a hair short of beheading the porcine foe thanks to his reflexes, managing to duck just in time with only the mask’s top being sliced off.

“Woah, man! What happened to that ‘interrogation’? Dead men tell no tales!”

“You can survive long enough without a piece of your face, no biggie.” calmly explained Bastian. “...That incense only protects you against long range magic, huh? Makes sense. The farther magic is from its caster, the less magic emission remains in it. That incense of yours has a heavy enough disruption that spells with little emission remaining in them will not be able to penetrate it, but the emission of my holy water is strong enough to pierce through it if I am close enough... You knew this, however.”

“Astute observation, mister miscreant. How do you figure the last part, though?”

The Exorcist smirked. “You have a pistol hanging by a holster on your right hip under those robes. You intended to keep me away by using it, rendering me helpless to hurt you from afar. And it could have worked, had you actually stopped flapping your gums and actually focused on the fight. You’re not much of a fighter, are you?”

Impressed, the Priest couldn’t help but lift his arms in not-so-mocking surrender. “...Guilty as charged. I’m not a fighter, no. My partner handles the direct combat end of the business, truth be told.”

A vinyl scratch inside Bastian’s head brought him to a full stop. “Wait, partner? Hold on, so the decoy that Vinn went after--”

As shock overcame Bastian, the crafty hog quickly reached for the gun on his hip, but Bastian, seasoned fighter as he is, immediately closed the distance again with two water propulsion jets.

“You got too cocky, shithead!” Bastian boasted, as his arm ascended to direct the water Priestwards, a splatter of crimson blood and the horrifying sound of ripping flesh polluting the air as a scream of agony echoed in the skies above the rooftop.

“...Did I, now, dear Ashfield?”

“W-what the shit...?”

With a loud thud, Bastian hit the floor harshly after being sent flying, a gash on his chest oozing blood. On the other side of the rooftop, the still-standing Priest had two massive spikes protruding from his chest, red with the blood of the Hydromancer they just downed. Removing his robe and torn mask, the Priest revealed short black hair, a scar on the right side of his face, and amber eyes. He looked like he was in his late 30s, with a mostly skinny, not-quite-lanky frame. Most notoriously, he was fully clad in stitched-together leather, crudely put together and of different animals by the looks of it. His jacket, shirt, pants, and even boots, all made of patchwork leather. The spikes slowly retracted back into his chest, seamlessly disappearing into his body, staining his shirt with the blood that was on the horns.

“You jumped the gun, friend, pun absolutely intended. You didn’t even consider I might have a way to deal with you up close.”

The blood oozing from Bastian’s chest slowly stopped, and it seemed to being drawn back into his chest by an unnatural force. “Oh!” the Priest exclaimed. “Your command of Hydromancy never ceases to amaze, Ashfield! Pulling your own blood back inside you with it! I guess it takes grit like this in order to live in the way you have.”

“S-stop talkin’ as if you know shit about me... What the hell was that...? I sense... Necromancy?” panted the wounded Exorcist, still on the floor, unable to move much. That statement made the man’s face shine with joy.

“You have a good eye, Ashfield. This is failed Necromancy... A poor man’s version, a mere counterfeit. Like every other Necromancer out there, I’ll never be a full fledged master of the death. However, I have no interest in that, and just this much control is good enough for me. My specialty is leather, allowing me to temporarily revive and reform any animal from leather, just for a short while, but hey, that’s all I need. Bringing back people is way out of my scope and ability, haha. What you experienced just now were the horns of a bull whose hide I have stitched on this shirt.” With a jolly stride and a confident gait, he approached the felled Hydromancer to deliver the last blow. “It was great playing with you, Ashfield, but you are a big pain in the ass, so I gotta put you out now, see ya!” From his right sleeve, a tiger’s foot materialized, razor sharp claws at the ready, and... Nothing. Nothing happened afterwards, as a spike seemed to have pierced the leather-clad man right through his chest. “...Ah... Haha, curses... You’re right, I’m not much of a fighter...” Bastian simply smirked again.

“Thanks for getting close enough to let me use my own blood on your shirt like that. Love ya.” Bastian had used the blood he had splattered on his assailant to pierce him from point blank range, incapacitating both men. It was pointless to even try to attack each other at this point, as the counter would kill the other.

“Pretty fancy necromancy you got there, friend. Leagues more creative than your run-of-the-mill shithead kid who revives a rat or a feral dog... Asperges Me, Domine.” commented Bastian as he put his hand on wound, controlling the blood so it stays inside while using a healing spell to close the wound.

“Me? Fancy? Don’t lie to yourself, Ashfield. Your Hydromancy is far more interesting. I don’t know how you get away with it, but surely more people have noticed it’s a facsimile, right?” the necromancer retorted, producing a needle from his utility belt and injecting himself in the arm.

“...!”

The Priest missed naught a beat in savoring the shock on Bastian’s face. “Heh, I knew it. You tricky scamp, of course I’d notice. I have plenty of experience and knowledge on spellweaving theory. You, sir, are no Hydromancer.”

“I command water, that’s Hydromancy, so you’re not really making a lot of sense here, amigo.”

“Oh, way too late to try and play it cool, friend. The cat is already out of the bag. Hydromancy is a traditional art of the Shaman school of magic. You befriend a spirit of water, make a pact with them, and with the spirit as a proxy, you gain control over the element of water. You, sir, have no such contract. Hydromancers are rare because it wouldn’t make sense to limit yourself to a single element. If you can make a pact with a water spirit, you surely can do the same with the other elements.”

“There’s plenty of ways to control water, Sir Pig.”

“Yup, and you are employing none of them. A way to bypass the pact with a spirit is to master control of remote mana particle emission, but that would only allow you to project water at short range, and without much potency. There’s far more practical uses of such power, and you make no use of them, meaning you have no such mastery. I can prove you haven’t made a single contract with a spirit of water as well, because you utilize holy water in your Hydromancy. Imbuing water with foreign energies, such as the holy energies of the Arc, is an insult to the spirits, and it would weaken your water, if not sever your pact with the spirit outright. Your water is most assuredly very powerful.”

“...”

“Just what are you, Bastian Ashfield? How come you can use water in the way you do? Could this be, perhaps, some sort of divi--”

“Shut the hell up!”

His wound finally closed, Bastian haphazardly stood up, ready to continue the fight. With a resigned, if not bemused sigh, the incense master stood up as well. “Mm, the drugs kicked in. Alright, let’s go, Hydroboy. Hit me with the best fake water you can muster, haha.”

“Man, props to you, you really get under my skin!”

As round two began, tendrils of water clashed with powerful tiger claws, pressurized jets of water were deflected by a tortoise shell, and a crocodile’s head was stopped from biting Bastian’s carotid artery just barely thanks to water spikes produced at the last second. The two men were evenly matched, and just as their dance was reaching its utmost violence, the large wristwatch on the man’s right wrist rang off an alarm. 

“...Time flies when you’re having a blast. Well, Ashfield, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I must take my leave. This has gone long enough.” 

Producing a small detonator from his pocket, the man pressed it without any hesitation or explanation -- apparently learning something about not flapping your gums in front of the enemy and just doing what you need to do --  and jumped off the railings of the rooftop, a series of explosion engulfing other parts of the warehouse complex.

“Shit, wait! You!” Bastian yelled as he approached the railings. Looking down, he saw the man safely running down the side of the building. That is, manifesting two long and thick ostrich legs from his back that stepped with such strength that their feet dug into the concrete of the building, safety being able to descend that way. “Bastard! He had it all planned...! I gotta get down there!”

“Adieu, my dear Ashfield! The name’s Balthazar Wharwood! Forget me not! Haha!”

                                                ——-

“Fatima, Daryl, help me shield the civilians from the debris! Nadja, go and assess the situation behind the building those two went to, it’s possible they might need your help with their escape if they haven’t captured them yet!”

With a collective “roger!”, everyone got to their task as assigned by Fiona, Nadja’s agile strides quickly getting her inside of the building. 

“I gotta say, Chief! Yer pretty cool when ya ain’t drunk off your ass!” excitedly proclaimed Daryl as he helped carry the no-longer hostile, but very much disabled civilians out of the dangerous warehouse.

“If that’s your idea of a compliment, my idea of gratitude will be to knock your lights out with a flawless right hook once we are out of here!” Fiona barked back.

“Keep your heads in the game, please! I cannot carry all of them safely without you to help me, even with this Manticore body!” pleaded Fatima as she carried as many people as she could on her back, safeguarding them with her wings.

Every couple of seconds, a new bomb went off, ever increasing the threat to the people in the premises. With just their limited numbers, they were saving as many people as they could.

                                                ——-

As Vinn finally reached the first floor, he made a beeline for the door that leads to the street, coming face to face with Nadja, who came from another hallway. 

“Are you alright, Ingram?”

“I’ve been worse, but no time to chit chat, she’s getting away!”

“She? The Hog Priest is a woman?”

“I’ll explain later, but if you see a girl with magenta eyes and white hair, she’s our mark.”

“Acknowledged.”

As the novice duo went into the street, there, in the distance, was the girl in the red robes with the baseball bat, alongside a tall, skinny man clad fully in leather. “...That must be the other Hog Priest next to her.”

“Hog Priest is two people? What a day. I’ll take the man, you go for the girl, since you were fighting her recently, you know what tricks to expect from her.”

They both nodded and dashed with all their might towards the Hog Priest duo, but just as they were reaching them, a line of machine gun fire threatened to fill them with holes, the two Exorcists backing away at the nick of time. 

“Ah, just on time, Sir Gatling Knight!” Balthazar greeted with joy, grabbing the white haired girl by the hand and running away towards a black van that awaited them nearby. The girl herself had no words, and just looked at Vinn in the eye one last time, bitterness and disappointment in those magenta eyes, before facing the truck and never looking back.

“Darn! What was that...!? Ingram, back away.”

“Don’t worry, Wharwood...” a muffled, sinister, if uninterested voice finally replied. “I’ll keep them away from you while you run with your tail between your legs.”

From their left side, a tall man clad from tip to toe in riot gear with several ornate engravings, a ballistic helmet with a visor that hid his face, and a cape on each shoulder that draped over the entirety of each arm approached them, a heavy machine gun trained at them casually with just one hand.

“I’ve no orders to kill you, but I can make an exception if you insist on pursuing them.” he announced not as a threat, but as a promise, the green machine gun disappearing behind the green cape, vanishing just like that.

“Move aside. We’ve no time to waste with you while they are escaping...!” Nadja commanded as she rushed not towards the van, but at the man himself. “You can give us answers, too!”

“Wait, Nadja! Don’t!”

But Vinn’s warning came too late. In just the flash of an eye, Nadja lunged at the man with a stake, which he shot out her hand with a pistol he produced out of thin air behind the green cape, making her recoil from the shock. As she fell, from his other hand came a shotgun, which he pressed against her gut and shot, the blood she spewed staining his visor and riot chestpiece.

“G-guah...!”

“N-Nadja!”

“Worthless. You, boy. Don’t make waste more ammo. The van is gone, anyways. You have no more reason to oppose me.” The armored man then simply threw the wounded Nadja at Vinn, turned around, and walked towards a manhole without the cover, presumably where he came from.

“Who are you? Why are you helping them?” Vinn asked as he tried to stabilize the wounded Nadja.

“...I’m the Gatling Knight, and why I help them is none of your business, but mark my words, on my honor as a Knight, if you oppose them, then you are bound to face me again, and if that happens, I’ll shoot you down where you stand. The first time you see me is a warning. The second time is your funeral. Be smart and don’t recklessly pursue your funeral. Now, tend to that fool. Her Domunus Tecum is flawless. If treated, she might survive.”

“...”

“Hoh, that’s a hateful glare, if I’ve ever seen one. Consider this, kid: You attack me now, you will meet the asphalt just as she did. You are exhausted from fighting Sacrifice, so you’re not at your 100%. I take you down now, and both of you die. You take her back, she might just make it. Your call. I can spare a few bullets, if you truly wish to force my hand.”

Cursing under his breath, Vinn had no choice but to carry Nadja back to where the other Exorcists were, as it was pointless to stay here, what with the Priests having escaped and his colleague nearing death with every passing second.

To call this operation successful would be a joke, Vinn though to himself.

“...And what did he mean by ‘Sacrifice’...?”

                                               ——-

                                                                                                 August 7th                                                                                                   12:01 PM                                                                                           7th Office’s Infirmary

“...And that’s what happened on my end.” said Vinn, concluding his report.

“I see, we both had a dog of a day, it seems. Damn pigs...” the bed-bound Bastian said with a half-laugh. “...Never imagined the Hog Priest, well, Priests would show up like this and cause this much trouble mere days after you started. You must really be cursed to end with me as your partner and those two wackos as your first foes, bwahaha.”

The younger Exorcist couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, the Academy really didn’t prepare me for this, I want a freaking refund. How are you holding up?”

“Doc says I gotta chill for the rest of today and tomorrow, and I should be golden. Oh, dunno if you heard, but after yesterday, all six of us have been given today and tomorrow as days off to recover properly. Which sucks, because it’s two days I gotta spend cooped up in here. Well, at least the good doc will keep me company, right?”

“I’ll just make it easy on myself and juice you up with so many painkillers that you’ll simply sleep the two days away, honestly.” doctor Aria casually commented from the other side of the Infirmary, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

“Aww, come on, Aria, you don’t gotta be that way.” jokingly commented Bastian. Vinn was somewhat surprised at how well these two seemed to get along. Bastian getting along with anyone was kind of a surprise. “So, yeah, go and take it easy, and... Discard that long face, boyo.”

“...Hm?”

“Oh, don’t HMM me, Vinn Ingram.” the Hydromancer chided. “I know your goody-two-shoes stiff little ass is probably all depressed because of how they got away yesterday. But, the fact is, the operation was successful.”

“...Was it really?”

“It was. We all survived, for starters. Nadja is in critical state, but Aria here is the best Arc damned doctor I’ve met in my life, and that I’ll possibly meet in my life, plus, Nadja’s Domunus was apparently strong enough that a point blank shotgun blast didn’t shred her organs to pieces. That should’ve killed her immediately, and yet, here she is. She’ll recover, I guarantee it. The rest of us were just battered and wounded to varying degrees, but we pulled through. The civilians? No casualties whatsoever. The bombs were a distraction, and none of them were placed anywhere where there were civilians. Fatima, Fiona, and Daryl made sure to evacuate all of them and search several times for more of them. All the missing people have been accounted for. We rescued them, Vinn.”

“...I didn’t consider it this way...”

“Look, man, I know seeing them escape is a kick in the dick, I know, but consider the rest of everything. We’ll get another shot at them, but had anyone died, there’s no coming back from that one. Not all of them are gonna go all flowers and sunshine, and hell, look at you, you are practically unscathed. Compare and contrast with my dumb ass that got saddled in bed. It’s fine, man. You’ll go crazy if you consider anything short of perfection a failure, man.”

“...Haha.”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just so freaking weird to hear you be so nice and supportive, Bastian, that’s all, haha.”

“Yeah, and it’ll cost you 5000 patros. I expect them by the end of the month.”

“Hahaha, but really, thank, it helps a lot to hear that” Vinn said with a smile.

“Oi oi, don’t go smiling at me now, save those for nice girls, like the doc here. Hey doc, can I get a smile?”

Aria, without looking at him, just flipped him her middle finger.

“Bwahahaha, yeah, love you too, doc. Alright, Vinn, go enjoy your day off. Trust me, you’ll learn to treasure them.”

“Alright, I’ll just drop by the office to say hi to Nick and Dani and then go home.”

“Good idea. Oh, and Vinn?”

“Yeah?”

“A bit late, but welcome to the 3rd Division. We are going to get revenge on those sumbitches when round two comes, yeah?”

“You fuckin’ bet we will.”

It might not have been ideal, it might have been perilous, but what Bastian said was true, the operation was, ultimately, a success. A mass kidnapping prevented is indeed good news to numerous families, no one can deny that. The day was saved, and while the root of the problem is still alive, it would be foolish to not enjoy this little moment of peace, or so Vinn thought at least. Whatever little moments of peace he might have from now on, he must make the most of them, for he understands that this is merely the calm before the storm.

The girl’s words echoed in his head, particularly the “coming world” she mentioned. Stroln was slowly but surely being submerged in conflict, and with it, the casualties that inevitably come from the crossfire. More than anything, Vinn wanted to prevent that.

The future looked uncertain and bleak for Vinn, but at the same time, he witnessed firsthand how capable the 7th Office was.

As the door closed behind him, Vinn walked away from the Office, ready to rest his body and prepare his spirit for the trials that he knew were coming, and that he knew Bastian and him and the rest of the 7th would deal with. 

The world he wants rides on this, too, after all.

“...What a nice day for a nap.”

       Of incense, ink stains, and the murky menace lurking beneath it all:                                       – Chapter 3: Neon War Paint –                                                             End

                                                                           To be continued in Chapter 4

[beheadingofmakai]

“Exorcist” Is A Strong Word

<- Previous Chapter

The girl’s fragile body heaved and thrashed violently as the Exorcists chanted while holding the unholy presence prisoner to shackles affixed to their own bodies, each of the men standing on opposite ends of the bed.

“...Ut inimicos sanctae circulae humiliare digneris...” the older of the two chanted as the younger focused entirely on subduing the demon’s attempts to resist with a smaller, simpler chant.

The room was dimly lit, just four candles providing both lighting and ambiance to the grotesque or extraordinary, depending on who ask, scene that unfurled in front of the terrified parents of the possessed girl, flanked by the two focused men, one tall and with wavy hair that rested in a ponytail atop his left shoulder, the other sporting shorter, dark red hair, and a far more stiff posture that spoke of inexperience and anxiety. The girl was held in place by two large, thick golden chains of light that protruded from the very bodies of the two men, a most fetid and unholy spirit attempting to resist their intervention, convulsing and shrieking in tones both audible and inaudible to humans.

“I-Is she fine!?” blurted out the concerned father of the girl, his wife holding him back and “shhh”ing him, urging him to be quiet as he was instructed. “I can’t just sit around doing nothing while my daughter is suffering like this!”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done, sir,” replied the younger Vinn, trying to sound as calm and pleasant as possible, as if he wasn’t wrangling a creature most foul by the tentacles. “My partner is almost done with the-- Oh, here it comes, one second, please, I need to catch it.”

“...You need to catch it?”

“Benedictus Deus, Gloria Patri, Benedictus Dea, Matri Gloria!”

A blinding flash of light burst from the girl’s chest, and an ocean of pitch black darkness with dark red orbs that you might just mistake for eyes burst forth from her mouth, immediately being captured by Vinn in a small rectangular object, and just as fast as it came, it was gone. “...Eyup, that’s a good one, now let’s scram,” commented Bastian casually, slinging his coat over his shoulder and heading to the exit.

“...Jeez. Sir, madam, your daughter is perfectly fine now. She’ll be asleep for a couple of hours, but his work is as precise as he is rude, unpleasant, and smells bad in the morning. Now, I need you to come here for a second so I can give you the post-care instructions.”

“T-thank you so much, Mister Ingram! Our daughter is everything for us! Do tell us, if it’s any medicine or doctor, we’ll pay for it!”  the ecstatic mother raved, her tears of joy already streaming down her face.

As soon as they got close, Vinn grabbed them both by the back of the neck, a dull green light in his fingertips, and the couple’s eyes went white for just a second. “...Huh? Who are you? Do you have any business with us...?”

“I said that the toilet is now completely fixed.” remarked Vinn. “It shouldn’t need any further repairs. It gave us a hell of a bad time, and the smell was horrible, but we sanitized the place while we were at it. We’ll send the bill later, have a good day!”

“...Oh, right! The toilet, yeah, darn thing, kept clogging up for no reason! Why, we had some good chili some days ago, and you wouldn’t believe how hard it-- Oh, um, thanks a lot, Mister Ingram! See you around!”

                                                         ——-

“No one’s looking?”

“Nope. Let that bastard out. Imma let him have it.”

“Oh boy, alright.”

The back alley where they stood was a spacious, convenient space between two large buildings, both made of brick, with a large green dumpster on the side, and out of the sight of any city crawler that wasn’t looking for trouble. The backside of a large billboard promoting a popular soda brand hung above them as the older man spat on his hands, rubbed them together, and cracked his knuckles like a boxer about to despoil a champion of his belt. It was 2:34 PM, two men on the clock, two hands ready to guarantee the local hospital would see some action today, and two eyes that rolled at the outdated display of bravado, because, let’s face it, who the hell still spits on their own hands and rubs them together anymore? Only whatever few Pre-Amnesia cartoons that can be salvaged together do that anymore.

Vinn produced a cheap, common, and rectangular sponge from his breast pocket and squeezed it with all of his strength, a black sludge and a blood-curling scream oozing out of it. “OOWWW! Ow ow ow! Yo, hold on! No need to-- AHH! Please, come on, man, yeesh!”

As the viscous sludge hit the pavement, a vaguely person-shaped creature began forming as more and more sludge accumulated, until the sponge had been squeezed dry, and in the floor lie a young man, large and built, with broad shoulders and a body hugging t-shirt that flattered his physique. He’d probably look very dashing if he wasn’t already off the floor and against a wall, with Bastian Ashfield’s firm grip on his neck.

“Possessing a little girl, man? Really? What shitter did you come from?” barked Bastian as he turned him around and seized his wrist, pushing him face-first against the wall. “What did you do to her? Lie, you piece of shit, lie right now and give me the excuse I need to smoke your ass right this instant.”

“Woah woah, man, calm down! I didn’t do anything to her! It was just the ol’ vitality drain, you know? A man’s gotta eat!” cried the demon nervously, struggling in vain to get out of the detective’s grasp. “...I did play a couple of pranks on those old folks, but I didn’t harm no one, I mean, anyone, I swear!”

Bastian looked at Vinn, whose eyes were coated in the gentle light of Fallitur, the SSSD of True Sight. “...It checks out. He’s saying the truth. He didn’t do anything aside from getting nourishment and... Playing some pranks, I guess. This one reeks of milk, man. How old are you, 14?”

“Alright, perfect.” Bastian interrupted before the demon could answer, casually tossing him to the ground as he put his coat on. “Vinn, you remember what I told you yesterday? That I needed to confirm one extra thing with you?”

“Yes, and just as you did today in the morning, when you broke into my house in the middle of my breakfast, Bastian.” remarked the younger Exorcist with the slightest but realest hint of resentment in his voice, his delicious bacon and cereal interrupted by a certain hydromancer who stealthily got inside from a window. “...But you refused to say it because you need to be cryptic and vague and ‘mysterious’ in order to make up for lacking manners and a personality.” Vinn punctuated the word “mysterious” by doing quotation signs with his fingers.

“Where’s your sense of adventure and suspense, Ingram? Were you That Kid in school? The one that did sudoku during recess ‘cause he always lost at Hide and Seek?” -- Bastian laughed, since he clearly had gotten under Vinn’s skin -- “Well, whatever, look, you can handle sacraments and spells well, you can fight well, your heart is the right place, but I need one more thing outta you, one thing more important than those and, if you lack it, you are out of the game.”

Vinn was certainly irritated with his high maintenance and annoying partner, but it was true that he was very curious and intrigued about what this final requirement might be. “...What is it?”

“I need you to find this guy a job.”

“What?!” grunted the demon on the floor.

“What.” flatly responded Vinn.

“What~?” mockingly quipped Bastian, lifting his arms in mock surrender, saying it in a funny voice. “I said, you need to find--”

“But why do I need to find this guy a job?”

“Vinn, we are Exorcists. You remember what they taught you way back in the first year on the Academy? What is it that Exorcists do?”

“We solve crimes related to Mythics or magic, and we--!”

“...You seem to have remembered something.”

Vinn brought his hand to his mouth, almost ashamed of himself. “...It’s been so long... But yes, Exorcists... Solve Mythic and magic-related crimes, but they also serve as involved parole officers for minor crimes, which includes setting Mythics right, letting them know their rights, and assisting them in finding their place in society in a way that lets them live with dignity and a purpose.”

“...And assisting them in finding their place in society in a way that lets them live with dignity and a purpose”. Bastian said these words alongside Vinn, his mocking demeanor gone and his hands reaching for a cigarette. “...It’s definitely not unwelcome to know that you can crack skulls when you need to, and that you care about Mythics, but see, if you can’t actually provide this help to them, then I don’t need you. The Academy’s fucked up, ain’t it? You spend one class in the first year talking about the supposed duty of the Exorcist, and then the rest of it all is learning how to pulverize them, or worst, how to smoke them. It never comes back up, does it? Not in the entire god damn MAB-approved and cooked curriculum. Well, Vinn, if you are going to truly help me set this rotten MAB right, you are going to show me you can do the most important job: Helping Mythics out for realsies. Not ‘beating up Mythics’, not ‘gathering evidence’, but actually caring and showing concern for Mythics that deserve this help, that with just that little push, can find their place in this God forsaken city.”

“...” Vinn held his tongue tight because Bastian was absolutely right. The Mythic Affairs Bureau’s Mythic Law Enforcement Academy’s education was mostly based on immediately assuming Mythics were a threat to humanity, something that always bothered Vinn, but the fact that even then, all he could think about this current case was to just give the demon a warning and letting him go instead of doing his duty properly was enough to make shame itch from within his skin. Vivid memories of his time at the Academy popped into his head, all the spellcasting, all the sacrament learning, the weaknesses of Mythics, what items and elements were most effective at hurting each type, and among all of these, he had naught a memory of Mythic rights or how to properly help them. “...Oi, Bastian, generally speaking, how many Exorcists would’ve killed this guy for what he did?”

Bastian’s face grew grim. “...Seven out of ten, I’d say. They would’ve truly and well exorcised him instead of just pulling him out. This one’s weak, too, so they wouldn’t have bothered like this, definitely”. The demon, who had gotten back on his feet but had not dared make a run for it, gulped visibly. “I’m going back to the Office to interview our lovely necromancer nurse. Help this guy out properly. I’m not demanding you do this in a day, but put your truest and hardest into this. I want to see if you can really call yourself an Exorcist.”

As Bastian walked away, Vinn recovered his composure and approached the demon. Short, stylish black hair, tight black t-shirt, built physique, and jeans. He was dressed as the most generic Joe out there, but his particularly model-like physique set him apart, and he’d look handsome if he wasn’t trembling in his sneakers. The somewhat red eyes of the demon avoided contact with Vinn’s green own as he uncomfortably shuffled in place. It was easy to see that he was not exactly calm, alone in a back alley with an Exorcist who had just caught him red handed.

“Oi, calm down. My name’s Vinn Ingram, and honestly, I am not going to harm you at all. I don’t get kicks from kicking kids like you around, so come on, ease up, what’s your name?”

“...How could you tell I’m a kid? I am pretty sure I have the appearance of an adult male right now. Are you a really experienced Exorcist?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, totally, I’ve been doing this for a while.” responded the man on his second day of work. “I just know how to tell Mythics apart really well by now. Demons especially.”

“...Mathanac. 17 years old, almost 18. This is my True Form, though, I’m not trying to look older on purpose. Look, I realize what I did was wrong, so please, can we not do the smoking thing? I didn’t hurt anybody, just maybe slid a couple of ice cubes down someone’s trousers, and, um, maybe I printed out scary pictures and hid them behind the shower’s curtain... And...”

“...And?”

“Well, um, maybe I spun my head a couple of times to freak ‘em out.”

“...I can’t even be mad at you for that one, it’s a classic.”

“Yeah! See? So please, come on, man, just give me a pass here, I’ll really be on my best behavior! Don’t put me in a room with that other guy, please.”

Vinn scratched the back of his head. Interaction after interaction, he understood one thing more and more with each word that came out of anyone that ever mentioned Exorcists: They were feared, they were dreaded, and they weren’t welcome, not by the Mythics they were supposed to guide, nor by the Humans they were supposed to protect.

Turns out, this job wasn’t as rosy or as noble as initially expected, if you have basic decency and a moral compass. Though he had serious personality problems, that was the one thing Vinn did like about Bastian: It was truly luck for him to be partnered with what seemed to be one of the few decent Exorcists in the line of duty, if the comments of anyone he’s ever met so far on the clock and his own experiences in the MLEA were anything to go by.

 “...Look, man, I am not going to hurt you at all. We are kinda close in age too, I’m just 21. All I want to do is help you find your place in this city so you don’t have to resort to possessing people again, and so you don’t get in trouble again. Tons of Mythics live just fine and without causing trouble, so there’s no reason to believe you wouldn’t be able to as well.”

“...21?” Mathanac took a step back and stabbed Vinn with doubtful eyes. “...You just said you were a very experienced Exorcist, but you are just 21? Liar alert! You are trying to bamboozle me! Trick me, even!”

“Oh! No no, uh, it’s just--!”

     Of kindred spirits, ink stains, and the reassuring caress of purpose:                                 – Chapter 2: "Exorcist” Is A Strong Word –

“See! You are just another Exorcist that wants to have his kicks by smoking me the moment I decide to trust you!”

“Aah, crap, look, sorry... I’ll explain, I’ll explain, please believe me.” Vinn sighed deeply, nervously fiddling with his hands just slightly. “I... Have been around demons since I was a kid. I know what to look for when trying to identify their age.”

Mathanac looked less panicked but no less confused than before. “...You’ve been around demons since you were a kid...? Aren’t you an Exorcist? Isn’t it your job to put us out of commission?”

“Ahh, man, look, “Exorcist” is a strong word, I like to think of myself as a civil worker first and foremost, ‘cause to be honest, screw having to outright off Mythics for small shit, you know? It’s not fair. I try to at least do my part, it’s what I’ve always aimed to do, since the first day I entered the Academy.”

The demon was taken aback. Demons are creatures fundamentally made of emotions, and they can read the emotions of others better than they can read between lines. Mathanac sensed no subterfuge or trickery behind the words of the young Exorcist, no matter how hard he tried to. “...I didn’t think good Exorcists existed... You care about Mythics and demons for real, huh? You ain’t lying.”

“...I’d rather not get into it, but I kinda want to protect demons. Don’t tell my partner I said that, though, I really dunno how much I can trust humans.”

The demon laughed. “Aren’t you a human, though?”

“Yeah, I am, but I don’t know shit about them, haha.”

“...Haha, what? What kinda oddball are you? Just in whose care did I get put? Man, today’s wild, first I see a grown man scream like the shrillest kindergartener, and now I am face to face with an Exorcist who isn’t a full on dickhead!”

“Hey, better me than some human jerk who’d outright freaking smoked you, man.”

The two laughed, the atmosphere clearly more light than when Bastian was around. “...You looked and talked real stiff when dealing with your partner and the girl’s parents, but you are all loosened up now, it’s killing me. What’s up with that?”

Vinn chuckled nervously. “...I don’t know how to handle other humans too well, but demons are easy. You can just speak your mind, you know? No need to watch your words, ‘cause they understand you. Let’s get looking for your job, though, the sooner we are done with this, the better for the two of us.”

The demon and the Exorcist nodded, and off they went to the business district, but unknown to them, a pair of magenta eyes was fixed on them, having been watching them for a while now. Silent like the shadow of a ghost, the silhouette moved out, tailing them in secret.

                                                        ——-

“So, Mathanac, whatcha good at?”

And the first question was like a well placed hook right into the demon’s ribs. “...Ya think I’d be out here possessing children if I was good at anything?” 

“I’m asking what is you primary emotion. Demons are fundamentally emotional people, and there’s usually a main temperament to you from the moment you are born. We should start by picking something suited to your temperament.” advised Vinn, adjusting his coat and checking his phone. “I mean, it’d be stupid going to random places, hoping you’ll hit it off by coincidence, yeah? It’s better if we can reduce our options.”

Mathanac’s shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. “I truly have no idea. My parents got... Smoked by Exorcists when I was a baby, apparently, and as soon as I could start possessing people, the family that had me ‘till then sent me on my way. Never really had the talk with anyone that could’ve helped me figure this out.”

There was a moment of silence between the two men, with Vinn unsure of what to respond with when faced with this rather grim turn of events. “...Sorry to hear that, man. I, uh... Damn, sorry, I really don’t know what to say, I don’t want to patronize you, either.” The answer to Vinn’s condolences was a forced chuckle.

“Don’t worry too much. My parents were apparently pretty damn vile, so it was inevitable. That’s also why I never really do any harm to whoever I possess, I mean, if these two dedicated demons got smoked in the end, someone far weaker like me would get pulverized in no time if I were to lay one finger on anybody. I’m a coward by nature, so I’d rather not sign my own death warrant if I can help it.”

“That doesn’t make you a coward, but jeez, alright, I guess our only option is to go to random places and try it out. Alright, so, how do you feel about the food industry?”

The demon boy raised his hand. “Question! I meant to ask this before, but how are you gonna get me a job just like that?”

Pulling out his MAB-issued notepad from his breast pocket, the young Exorcist flipped it open and showed a list of names and addresses to the inquiring demon. “This is a list of places where, if we mention who we are, we’ll be given freedom to get you hooked with a job as part of our parole officer duty. These are mostly Mundane-owned places, but they know of Mythics and such.”

The MAB has many connections, even with people outside the world of Mythics. Even though the majority of people in Stroln are Mundane -- that is, humans that are not users of any sort of sorcery or sacrament -- some Mundanes do indeed know of the world of Mythics that lies hidden under the surface of the expansive city for this or that reason. Generally, these Mundanes are visited by the nice, cordial chaps of the MAB, who politely request, without any sort of threats or implied violence, of course, that they sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement that, if breached, can result in red stains on the carpet. These NDAs contain pretty severe restrictions, but these can be lessened through various means, one of which is agreeing to participate in the MAB Parole System, which allows Exorcists get jobs for their assigned Mythics, no questions asked.

“So that system is actually real? I had heard some people talk about it before, but I assumed it was just bluster.” exclaimed Mathanac in marvel. “Yeah, let’s go for a bite.”

“You’ll be the one cooking, smartass.”

Not ten minutes later, Vinn introduced himself to the owner of a small diner, and got the owner to give Mathanac a trial day immediately upon mentioning the MAB. Though not comfortable with the clear fear in the owner’s eyes upon hearing the acronym, it was a step forward for Mathanac’s rehabilitation.

“...Jeez, never thought the day would actually come...” the owner lamented as he opened a ledger and wrote some stuff.

“Pardon?” inquired Vinn. “How come you never thought the day would come if you are a part of the MAB Parole System? If you signed up for it, it is at least expected that you consider the possibility.”

“Eh. Everyone signs up for that for the benefits, since no one actually makes use of it. It’s the first time in years an Exorcist comes and brings it up, and the previous time it was brought up was when I was asked if I wanted to sign up for it. Just my luck...”

“...Please excuse me.” Stroln’s beauty and hospitality never ceases to impress.

                                                       ——-

“Alright, you get to wait some tables today. Play nice and you can keep the job.” explained the young Exorcist as he sat by the counter. “I gotta watch you and review your performance, so just do your best. The owner says he wouldn’t mind a mild demon like you on the payroll, plus, you got your looks going for you, which always helps in the service industry.”

“Alright, it’s worth a shot. It’s just knowing what each person wants and delivering it, right? Yeah, easy peasy, got this in the bag, dontcha worry!” Mathanac boasted, getting changed into the diner’s uniform and apron already.

The door’s bell chimed, and in strode a new customer, almost too conveniently, just in time for Mathanac to test his waiting mettle. The customer was quite the sight, as well, with striking magenta eyes, a head full of shoulder length white hair with her right lock dyed black, and most notably, a lilac t-shirt that exposed her left shoulder, albeit it wasn’t due to the shirt being designed with that in mind, but rather, it was too big for her. This would usually call attention by itself, but the most curious aspect of the t-shirt was the large ink stain on the front, clearly not part of the original article, which contrasted not too pleasantly with the lilac color of the clothes. With a smile and a joyful stride, she sat on a chair, looked at the menu briefly, and then looked at the Exorcist with expectant magenta eyes.

“Oi, on table 17, go get her order, man.” chided Vinn, prompting the demon to make his debut in the food industry. As he watched the demon and the girl talk, the Exorcist checked his phone and texted Bastian.

                                                                        Is the interview going well?

marvelous shes a dumbass but shes the real deal no doubt

                                                                       Mathanac is starting with his job                                                                        and he’s a pretty decent demon                                                                        so I don’t think this will be hard.

cool im glad youre calling him by name can’t stay on the phone much longer don’t get cocky though keep an eye on him                                                                        Alright, mom.

There was nothing for Vinn to worry about! In the time spent texting with Bastian, Vinn had been keeping an eye on his demon: Mathanac had taken the order, brought the seasoning and sauces, the girl’s drink, the whole deal. Why, just now, he had set down the noodle soup she had ordered! No problem, no dilemma, it was in the bag. Right up until she wanted to put some salt on the soup and the cap fell off, dumping a mountain of tiny white rocks on the noodle soup, accentuated by the snickering of a certain demon, whose laughter immediately ceased upon receiving a powerful finger jab in the ribs.

“You were doing so well! Why the hell did you think this was a good time for a prank!?”

“Haaa, oww, haha... Man, come on, there’s no sin in adding some... Spice to a meal!”

Finger jab and a cry of pain that, if put through a translator, it would read “worth it”.

“Salt’s not even a spice, dumbass. Ma’am, I’m so sorry, we’ll get you a new bowl.”

“Oh, no no! No worries, hmhm, it was pretty funny, no worries! I’ll pay for it, too. I’d like it wrapped for take out, please.” replied the girl with a gentle demeanor and a pleasant smile as she stood up and got close to Vinn. “Actually... That guy’s a demon, isn’t he?”

Vinn took a step back, surprised. “...Guess you are not a Mundane.” The girl simply chuckled and lifted her arms in mock surrender, answering by just nodding. “Ah, no, sorry, didn’t mean to sound accusatory. Vinn Ingram, Exorcist with the Seventh Office of the MAB. I’m helping this guy get a job, but...”

“Oh? An Exorcist actually helping a Mythic? I see! And this is the part where I get careless, lower my guard, you ask for my papers and send me to jail over some little bit of bureaucracy, right?” she prattled.

“Ahh, no, look, I won’t--”

“Chill, I’m just kidding. I know that you are really helping that guy out. I saw you guys before. I miiiiiight have overheard you, and decided to follow you.” -- the girl stretched -- “You got a little careless, I guess!”

“Oh, she totally heard us, haha. Some Exorcist you are,” taunted Mathanac, coming back in his regular clothes and with the take out wrap. “The boss fired the crap outta me, so I guess this is a good time to go to the next place. Ah well, food biz ain’t my thing, anyways.”

The young Exorcist pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, easy for you to say... Well, we’ll get going then, and I’d appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself, miss...?”

“Oh no no, I won’t snitch on you, no worries! In fact, I’m of a mind to come along. This should be fun.”

“Yeah, no, I can’t let a civilian get involved in an MAB affa--”

“Oh, guess I’m snitching, after all. Seventh Office phone number... +56 9 762--”

“Welcome to the group! It’ll be our pleasure having you come with us! Please don’t get me flayed alive on my second day of work!”

“...Second day...” “...Pff... Second day...!”

The demon and the girl, who could figuratively be said to also be a demon, said this in unison, one voice with concern, the other with palpable hilarity.

“...L-let’s get going.”

                                                       ——-

The sky of Stroln turned pink behind the three young adults. Step after step, they would find a new place for Mathanac to work at. Step after step, Mathanac would do a prank and get fired. Step after step, the girl would laugh and Vinn could feel his hairline receding and his life becoming shorter. What he thought would be an easy job had turned out to be a nightmare. On top of the very building by the back alley where they had technically met for the first time, atop the billboard, the three sat, taking a short break, mostly for the sake of Vinn’s nerves.

Cracking open a can of beer, the young Exorcist sighed and drank half of it in one go. “...Haa... Mathanac, you are going to give me a god damn ulcer.”

“Ah, look!” the girl exclaimed, pointing at another billboard from their vantage point. The other billboard had burns and scratches that made it impossible to read or make out in the slightest. “A Pre-Amnesia billboard, huh? It’s a miracle that relic is still up.”

“Oh yeah, I thought the same thing yesterday. I think that one is the same I saw. I guess no one wants to foot the bill for that one when there’s this one here.”

“Hmm? Is it rare for that burned-up billboard to be up?” Mathanac asked, apparently out of the loop. “I mean, they could just clean it and reuse it, no?”

“Looks like our little unemployed prankster isn’t too cultured,” teased the girl. “Do you know what Pre-Amnesiac things are?”

“Oi, buzz off, I was busy trying to survive these years, not learn the lore of the world, nature, and all things that surround us, oh mighty scholar,” jested the demon, always in a good mood, despite having been fired from 14 jobs just today. “What’s that about?”

Vinn threw the now empty can and produced another from a plastic bag nearby. “You see those burn marks on the billboard? They aren’t actually burn marks. No matter what you do, you cannot remove, repair, or erase them. They cannot be affected at all. It’s unknown what caused those immutable marks, but whatever they hide, it’s as good as gone. That’s what happened to everything when the Amnesia hit.”

“Mmhm! Books, movies, videos, virtual text files, photos, audio tracks, billboards, even the washing instructions in clothing... It’s all gone. Not only did humanity lose its memories when the Amnesia hit, it lost almost everything that they had made or accomplished, too. 33 years ago, that was one hell of a show, I bet. Imagine coming by one day and not remembering a thing,” followed up the girl, a more solemn tone replacing her usual upbeat one.

Mathanac gasped. “...Woah, what? I had heard of some amnesomething stuff, but did it really hit the whole world? And it just erased everything? That’s nuts...”

“Not everything,” Vinn explained. “People forgot almost everything, and most information was outright gone and inaccessible, but not all. There’s many theories, but the most widely believed one is that the more something was recorded or known, the more it resisted the Amnesia. That’s why we know we are ‘humans’ and that you are a ‘demon’, for example, or how we still know how to make stuff like the concrete mix for buildings. Had we truly forgotten everything, we’d have gone back to something that was apparently named the Stone Age. In fact, the Amnesia wasn’t all encompassing: There’s entire groups of people dedicated to reconstructing Pre-Amnesia things, and they have been able to fully salvage books simply by finding enough copies of it and piecing together what isn’t covered in those burn marks.”

The girl clapped and cheered. “It’s just as the nerd said! So basically, it’s weird that that thing has been there for 33 whole years and no one’s cared enough to take it down. Some people are pretty sensitive about Pre-Amnesia paraphernalia, too, so I bet more than a couple of people have complained about it.” The clapping, however, caused the girl’s already loose t-shirt to shift even lower on her left shoulder, and Vinn’s eyes couldn’t help but react to said shift, only to find what seemed like a tattoo next to the girl’s shoulder blade. He couldn’t see it clearly, but it looked like a circular object wreathed in something spiky.

“Nice tattoo. What is it?”

“!” The girl immediately adjusted her t-shirt back and forced a laugh. “Ah, haha, you saw it. Yeah, um, it’s... Just some ink I got, just some tattoo, random impulse, really.”

“Cool acting. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” -- Vinn stood up after emptying his second can -- “More importantly, what the hell do we do about Math’s job?”

“...Mister Exorcist, you haven’t realized yet?”

Vinn looked at the girl with confused eyes. “Haven’t I realized what?”

“You’re going at this the wrong way. Your heart’s on the right place, I mean, if anyone had told me about an Exorcist that’s stuck by a demon through 14 disastrous jobs, I wouldn’t have believed it. Since you truly want to help this idiot, I’ll help. First, what has been the reason for his gold medal record in getting fired?”

The Exorcist scratched his chin. “He keeps making pranks. No matter the job, he keeps doing something mean but kinda funny, and that ends up getting him booted... Actually, now that I think about it, he was doing pranks on people when he had possessed the little girl, too.”

“What can I say? I like adding that extra oomph to stuff, man. It just ain’t me to do something serious.”

The girl had opened her mouth, but words were unnecessary when she noticed the young detective’s eyes, which were wide open, as if he had struck a realization. “...Seems you’ve realized it, Mister Exorcist! You were trying to fit a squ--”

“I was trying to fit a square peg in a round hole!” declared the young man, his vim returning, his eyes ablaze. “Mathanac, follow me, I want you to try something.”

“Huh. Sure thing, let’s do this.”

The three got off from the billboard, the sky already dark, but the day definitely not over, not just yet.

                                                      ——-

Mint Hill Street. Not a main street by any means, but one that does see a lot of pedestrian activity. Many shops, offices and apartments compose this hillside road, with busy people darting by and lo twenty four-seven. Today was a day like any other in this busy street, but with one main, loud, and colorful difference. Standing in the middle of a small crowd, a man in a bright red wig and a big red nose clamored to his loving audience. His oversized suspenders contained all sorts of artifacts of hilarity, and he seemed to be the one that had the most fun of them all, even if the audience was all smiles.

“Hmmm?” the colorful man expressed, upon noticing the not-so-smiling face of a little girl. “Why the long face, little fella? Did something happen?”

“Ahh... No, it’s nothing, Mister Clown, it’s just, the last few days I’ve been exhausted, as if something had been draining my energy... I’m feeling better now, but it was a couple of weird days, and I don’t remember much... B-but I am enjoying your show here!”

“Why, I feel like you are trying to bamboozle me! Trick me, even! With a face like that, you corner me, nay, force me to have to utilize one of my secret...” -- the clown exaggeratedly looked to both sides before coming close to the girl and muttering the rest -- “...one of my most secret techniques, just for you! Now, tell me, what’s your favorite animal?”

“I like cats!”

“The contract is sealed, little girl!”

The clown produced a balloon from his pants, inflated it, and began shaping it like a cat. “See,” the clown announced. “This fella’s name is Missifus, and he’s such a lovely cat! And he likes lovely little lasses that smile brightly! Now, where’s one such girl? Hmmm? I don’t see one...”

“Hehe! Me! Me!”

“Oh! Who are y-- N-no way! Are you the same little girl from just now!? What a radical change! Oh, this won’t do, this won’t do! See, Missifus loves girls who smile, but his family will get jealous if he leaves with someone with a smile this good!”

The little girl’s face was about to droop from the disappointment before the clown continued. “...That’s why they have decided that they will all come with you!”

In a flash, four other balloon cats of different colors appeared out of seemingly nowhere, crowding the happy girl with lots of cute balloons, which her parents helped hold as they all smiled in gratitude to the clown. The crowd cheered, and many coins and bills filled the outstretched blanket in the ground, where the audience was free to donate to the performer.

“Haha! I’m glad you enjoyed the show! Let’s call it a day for today, yes? See you around!” And with that, the clown packed his things and quickly left, disappearing into a back alley, where he removed his wig and nose, and came face to face with Vinn and the girl, who were cheering and clapping for him.

“I can’t believe I know a star! Please sign my shirt!” congratulated the girl, patting Mathanac’s shoulder. “No, but for real, that was pretty good! You sure it was your first time?”

“Eyup! Never done this before, but it felt so natural, and I feel so... Satisfied.”

“You gave one hell of a show, I’m impressed, man. You were the one having the most fun out there. So, it was the emotion of “laughter”, huh?” Vinn commented, writing on his notepad.

“It sure seems that way. I feel much better and more fulfilled than any time I’ve ever possessed anyone.”

“Demons can get sustenance in many ways, but the main and most effective way is to be exposed to the emotion that governs their being. So it makes sense that you would feel like you just had a feast from making so many people laugh. I take this to mean you won’t be possessing more people?”

The demon laughed and clicked his tongue. “No, sir, no more of that for me... And, Vinn? Thanks, man, for sticking with this idiocy for as long as you did. You had no reason to, but you did it. I swear I won’t cause any more trouble.”

“It’s incredible, isn’t it? Good Exorcists exist! Out of all the jokes I saw a literal clown make today, that one is the best one! Just quit that job and join Math as a clown already,” the girl jested and she playfully pocked Vinn in the ribs with her elbow.

“Jeez, I get it already... Man, it feels weird to be praised for just, like, not being a dick, haha. Well, that’s case closed, then. I gotta check in with you now and then, Math, since I am still technically your parole officer, so--”

“Yeah, no problem, dude, hit me up whenever, we can hang out or something.” interrupted the demon, having no problem with this arrangement at all. “I’ll be on busy streets like this one mostly. You can easily find me by looking for the tall guy with the massive red nose.”

The three laughed and then realized that it was already night. “Well, today was a pleasure, but I gotta get going. Nice to have met you, Mister Exorcist and Math! Best of luck!”

“Ah, wait! Thanks a lot for your help! I wouldn’t have made it without you!” Vinn quickly exclaimed.

“Damn right you wouldn’t, haha. Everyone has a role in this world, see? You just gotta figure out what it is, what’s that little something you are good at, and then, the road is easy. Well, see ya! I hope you help many more Mythics!” And with that, she was gone.

“...So what was her name, anyways?”

“Iunno. She never said. Well, Math, see you around.”

The city of Stroln was far from perfect. Crimes that affect both Humans and Mythics keep happening, unimpeded and shamelessly. Abuse of power is common, and in the end, you can only truly trust yourself and those close to you to keep you safe. But, today at least, Mint Hill Street was made a livelier place, thanks to a certain colorful man, and the man that helped him get there. 

Every wall starts with a brick, after all.

                                                      ——-

The large steel door covered in graffiti closed behind the lithe girl, who confidently stepped into the comfortable darkness, magenta eyes barely visible in the pitch blackness of this nondescript building. Far ahead, a little light finally could be seen, and near it, a man in red robes sat on a table, reading a book. The closer the girl got to the man, the stronger the scent of chamomile incense became. As she stepped out of the darkness and into the dull light, the man’s eyes turned to her, and he finally waved.

“Back late today, aren’t you?”

“Sorry! I kinda got distracted by something. It was an interesting day,” the girl explained, setting the take out wrap on the table.

The older man in the robes gestured for her to have a seat. On the table, two plates of hot food were ready to be feasted upon. “That’s great to hear! Tell me about it while we eat.”

The girl gasped and immediately took a seat. “Awww, Balthazar... You held off on dinner to wait for me? Thank you, ehehe...”

“Oh, it wasn’t much! So, tell me! You seem to be very happy.”

“Yeah! So, like, I came across an Exorcist cornering a demon in a back alley. I was ready to eviscerate him, when I noticed that he was actually helping him!”

The man’s eyes were wide open. “What, for real? Like, actually helping him? Hey, I’ve told you lying is pretty tasteless!”

“No no, for real! I couldn’t believe it either, but he was legitimately helping out the demon, so I joined them to see where it would go, and--”

“I see you two are enjoying a late dinner as usual.”

The elegant, feminine voice came from the shadows, from whence an alluring silhouette emerged. As soon as her words were heard, the white haired girl in the ink stained shirt held her tongue and looked away.

“...We are, Alkelda. Anything we can help you with?” said the man, quickly locking eyes with the elegant shadow.

“Four days from now, we’ll be conducting our experiment. I assume you know what this means, right?”

“Yup. You need your test subjects soon, right? Don’t worry, we already have it scheduled. We’re planning on getting them tomorrow, so relax. We are ahead of schedule.”

“Oh? My, it pleases me how efficient you and your... Partner are, Balthazar. I assume it’s just you two, as usual?”

“Yup. We’ll be going out to get them tomorrow. We’ll bring them here, so have the pens ready to receive them.”

“Mhmhmhm... Excellent. Well, enjoy your meal, Balthazar and Sacrifice. You have a busy day tomorrow, from what I can tell.” As fast as she came, the silhouette was gone.

If disgust had a shape, it definitely was the girl’s face right now. “...Can’t get used to that bitch...”. The man simply laughed at that comment.

“Just go to bed, and take it easy. It’s all in the name of clarity. We’re almost there, we can’t let personal grievances get in the way so far in the game.”

“Yes, it’s all in the name of clarity... Yes! Indeed! Yes! You are right! See you tomorrow Balthazar. Thanks for having dinner with me!”

The girl hurried to her room, and locked the door behind her. 

“...Everyone has a role in this world, see? You just gotta figure out what it is, what’s that little something you are good at, and then, the road is easy...”

Red robes that matched those that the man wore hung from a rack, beneath a large, realistic, almost grotesque full-head mask of a pig.

“...For some, that role is that of an entertainer that gifts laughs to those around them. This is admirable.”

A small jar of a bright liquid sat on the dilapidated desk opposite to her bed.

“...For some, that role is that of a seed of hope among a rotten crop, doing what they should, and yet, they don’t. This is admirable.”

A long baseball bat, inscribed with runes, leaned against the wall, next to the robes.

“...For some, that role is that of the ultimate sacrifice that will save all, in the name of clarity...”

A slender, pale finger ran across the repulsive mask.

“...This is admirable.”

    Of kindred spirits, ink stains, and the reassuring caress of purpose:                                 – Chapter 2: "Exorcist” Is A Strong Word –                                                        End  

                                           To be continued in Chapter 3: Neon War Paint.

[beheadingofmakai]

“Exorcist” Is A Strong Word

Next Chapter ->

“...And why in the world are you here so early?” sighed a puzzled Nicholas as soon as he saw who opened the loud, creaking iron door at 5:26 AM this fine Monday, the paradise composed of only him, his keyboard, and his files crumbling to pieces.

At the other end of the already small room that was made even smaller by the sheer volume of papers, folders, and the occasional pizza box scattered around, the door swung open, and in strode a tall man with wavy, long dark brown hair, tied in a ponytail that rested upon his left shoulder, clad in a padded coat that was both well worn and ready for more, owing to its clearly wonderful, if pragmatic make, and, under the loosest of definitions, “wearing” a red necktie, as shoddily tied as you’d expect of someone whose desk consists of a spilled coffee mug, two billiards balls in an office without a billiards table, and no paperwork to speak of.

“You could at least tie that thing properly if you are going to storm in so early, man.” followed up Nicholas Dunbar after the man’s lack of a reply. “Chief’s gonna chew you out again if you don’t at least make an attempt to not look like the slob you are.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve always been honest, after all.” replied the man nonchalantly, throwing his coat to the nearby couch before sitting down on his desk, immediately propping up his legs on top of it.

“Yeah, that’s good and all, but you always end up somehow dragging me into his lectures about dress code, and honestly, I don’t gotta deal wi--”

“I understand that you are a gold medalist in bitching and that you love being cooped up in this man cave all nice and cozy by your lovely, lonesome self, but before you give me some more of that classic Before 9:30 AM Nicholas love, I’d prefer if you’d give me anything new regarding Brown Note” interrupted the man as he fiddled with his tie. Nicholas sighed in an unfortunately trained manner, his eyes saying “oh boy, here we go again” in the language of rolling.

“Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the one before that one, no, Bastian, nothing new on Brown Note. You know you’re the first one I’ll tell if we get any information on him, but you have to be patient.” Nicholas sighed and sipped on his coffee before removing his glasses.” And... Well...”

Bastian stopped fiddling with his tie as soon as Nicholas, a man whose dictionary doesn’t include weird things like “tact” or “sensibility”, stumbled upon his tongue before saying something. “Well? What’s eating you? Just say it, man... Oh, I know what’s going on! You are going to assign me another haunted house case! Nope! No way! I just got the splinters outta my damn ears this morning, not to mention the settlement with that stubborn ghost and all that damn goo on my hair whenever he sneezed, and---”

“Well, see, Bastian... Office Chief Hallvard and Chief Toshiro... Assigned you your new partner.” finally spat out Nicholas, rubbing his glasses with a wipe, masterfully avoiding eye contact with Bastian with all the grace of a dog that knows he did something wrong.

“Yeah, and your glasses look good on you, while we are at it. So, about Brown Note, I think we have to--”

“Bastian, I’m serious. And so is the chief. You have a new partner.”

“I don’t do partners, Nick, you know that, he knows that, now, jokes aside, I think I am starting to understand a pattern with Br--”

“Bastian, the Chief made it very clear that this is a direct order from HQ. You are to have a new partner. It’s been decided, man, and frankly, you... Look, I hate to say it, but you have to move on, not for the Office, not for the Chief, but for yourself. You don’t deserve to knock yourself like this for so long. Roderick’s gone, and it wasn’t your fault. It pains all of us, it pains you more than anyone, no doubt, but the rules are the rules, and you need to come to terms with the present already. You’ve been like this for seven months.”

Bastian looked like his gums were about to furiously flap at the helpless assistant, but before his tranquil rage slipped through jaded words and venom tongues, his face morphed into that very relatable and very familiar visage of “Oh.”. He quickly whipped out his cellphone and confirmed the date: August 4th. “You gotta be chewing my-- Hallvard’s putting me with a greenhorn!?”

“Yup” calmly replied Nicholas, his head cool once more as he adjusted his glasses. “August 4th. Today’s the day when the newest graduates of the Mythic Law Enforcement Academy officially begin working. You have been assigned one of the graduates as your new partner, and you two already have a case.”

One quick look at Bastian’s face could tell thousands of words, most of them indecent and some even horrifying, but he knew that, against a direct order from HQ, he couldn’t get away working solo anymore. Finally tying his necktie properly and brewing himself some coffee with the worn out coffee maker, the tall man finally settled down, something that didn’t escape his colleague’s attentive and somewhat frightened eye.

“Bastian, you are not thinking what I think you are thinking.”

“Whatever could you possibly mean, my dear Nicholas?”

“You are going to scare away the newbie!”

“What!? I would never do such a thing~!”

“Bastian, I swear to the Arc, you got away with it before, but you can’t just bully your way into... Well, having your way, man!”

“Big words coming from the guy who couldn’t stop laughing when the Ogre Incident happened!”

“Dude, that was hila-- No! It’s not right! Don’t do this a fourth time, come on, Bastian! You can’t keep getting away with... Pfff... When the ogre... And the new guy... Ppffffff! N-no! Bastian, please, just please try it honestly this one time!”

“Nicholas, brief me in our case, if you will.” smugly and softly asked Bastian, a wry grin plastered on that oh so punchable face.

“...By the Arc, you monster... Whatever, so, ahem...” -- the assistant holds out the freshly printed sheet of paper -- “There’s been some necromancy sightings. No felony reports, yet, but from what we’ve been able to tell, it’s definitely necromancy.” Nicholas explained, still trying to contain the faintest hints of laughter from remembering the Ogre Incident.

“Oh, great, another freaking knucklehead reanimating stray dogs or sewer rats?”

“See, this is where it gets interesting” replied a serious and compelled Nicholas, inching forward on his seat as he opened a file on his computer. “It’s real necromancy. The actual, for realsies deal. We’ve not seen anything like this before.”

Bastian’s playful grin disappeared immediately. “Real necromancy...? Wait, so people...? Reanimated humans? Actual damn humans...?”

“...Yup. And you know what’s the weirdest part?” -- Nicholas produced a cigarette pack from his chest pocket and extended it towards Bastian, who took one -- “They are not doing a single bad thing. They are simply living as they usually did. It’s mostly senior citizens, and we only noticed due to the signs of strong magic residue a couple of neighborhoods presented... And, uh, the signs of decay on these otherwise perfectly fine people. You need to investigate... Well, whatever the hell this is.”

“What...?” Bastian drank from his coffee and tried to digest this information for a second before reaching for a seemingly discarded pizza box, getting a slice of cold pizza from last night and biting into it. “So you are telling me this is one of the few cases of actual Necromancy, not just some punk kids, we’ve ever gotten, and that they are not even thralled or doing, hell, unholy stuff or whatever, they are just chilling? This forgotten art just being used for kicks? What the hell is this? Why are they giving this case to me and some new runt?”

The assistant shrugged and adjusted his glasses. “If I had to take a guess, it’s the Chief’s way of apologizing to you for giving you a partner?”. Hearing this, Bastian let out a roaring laughter, stood up and headed towards the door.

“That fucking Hallvard... He knows how to play me, alright. Sure, fine, whatever, runt or not, this case is gold. Nick, what’s the kid’s name and address?”

“Vinn Ingram, and he lives close by, at 364 Mint Hill Street, third floor. Why do you want to kn--” Nicholas immediately stood up, realizing too late what was going on. “Bastian, dude, don’t you dare--!”

“Bye, darling! Gonna go pick up my new partner like the lovely, lovely nice guy I am! I’m on the case!” was all that Bastian said before he vanished behind the creaky old iron door with an almost dance-like stride.

“Oh boy... Well, it’s his problem now. I hope he doesn’t scar him for life. Well, now, lots of stuff to file today, so let’s get to it before the others arrive.” finally sighed Nicholas, this maelstrom truly and well out of his hands. Opening a drawer, he produced an old, pre-amnesia large novelty lighter in the shape of a comically oversized pistol with any and all inscriptions and numbers in it covered by burns and made impossible to discern, pulled the trigger, and lit his cigarette. “Right, let’s start by reporting this... Case 898VH7, Mint Hill Office. Exorcists on the case: Bastian Ashfield and Vinn Ingram, and here’s hoping the latter makes it out alive.”

           Of hospitals, Hippocratic... Suggestions, and a lot of cyber dogs:                                  -- Chapter 1: First Day At The Job -- 

A new suit, pressed and pristine.

A new tie, bright and never once worn.

A hearty breakfast, with bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

Today was it.

“...Right, gotta make a good first impression. Can’t mess up the very first day. I finally graduated, now I get to make an actual impact on the Mythics on this city. No more theory, no more trials, now’s the real deal!”

A young man with short dark red hair and green eyes stood in front of the mirror, awkwardly trying to tie his necktie properly. It wasn’t the first time he had done it, but formal wear had always been weird to him. The suit, however, looked right at home on him: A two piece suit, dark with the faintest grey hues, underneath which was silver sleeveless vest, a black shirt, and a light blue necktie, impeccable and promising, worn for the first time. As great as it could look, however, it didn’t pacify the young man inside of it, nervous about his first day at his new job. He kept talking to himself as if trying his hardest not to panic.

Yet, was it panic or excitement?

“Hair, check. Suit, check. Deodorant...” -- the young man sniffed himself over -- “Check! Alright, I ate my breakfast and got everything ready. If I arrive 30 minutes early on my first day, it’ll be a great first impression, heh!”

Grabbing his keys, wallet, and cellphone, the young man in the suit couldn’t be more ready. Any ambushes on him right now would be futile. Surprises would be meaningless. There was no stopping him now, he was ready!

*ding dong*

Or so he thought before the bell, like a hammer, crushed all of these thoughts into shards. “Wh-- No one knows I live here, who in the world... Yes! I’m coming, one second!”

The man quickly ran at the front door, and upon opening it, found himself face to face with a tall man in a padded vest, wavy ponytail resting on his left shoulder.

“‘Sup. Ingram? Vinn Ingram?”

“Y-yes, that’s me, who are y--”

“You are still not out? You have the gall of living just a couple of blocks away from your workplace, and you are still not there?”

“Woah there, hey” immediately interjected Vinn. “Who are you? How did you know where I li--”

“Ashfield. Bastian Ashfield, Exorcist working at the Seventh Office of the Mythic Affairs Bureau, housed at Mint Hill 1178, which is, again, just a couple of blocks from here. We didn’t have to meet here, you know?”

Though he looked brusque and was certainly not polite, the tall man in front of Vinn carried an air of authority and command to him that you wouldn’t expect from someone as young as him. Between his posture, body language, and his words, he had stolen any momentum Vinn might have presumed to have. This ‘Bastian’ fellow looked like if a Rottweiler and an assault rifle had a child, and this child had grown to bully kids in high school. “That’s the office I was assigned to... But, it said on the e-mail that you guys start working at 9:30, it’s just ten to 9:00, isn’t this a bit too early?”

“I’m glad you know how how to read mails!” Not a single full second passed after Vinn had finished talking before Bastian was already replying to him. “Now I just wish you actually took this job seriously, kid. 9-god damn-30? That’s when we are officially open. You get your ass to the office at 8:00 on point at the latest, so you can prep right, talk to your team team properly, and be ready for what the rest has for you. At 9:30, at the Seventh, we move out, but “work”? Work starts way damn earlier. Are you taking this seriously, Ingram?”

“I am taking this seriously, I graduated with--”

“You graduated with top scores. Top of your class and year. Big damn claps for you, ‘grats, you did well on some piss ass tests, you knew how to answer multiple selection questions, allow me to pay you a prostitute, you utterly priceless son of a gun. Don’t mean shit if you don’t take this seriously. Let this be the last time.”

“What is your problem?” Vinn replied.

“Little shits like you that think this is a game are my problem, that they can get in for the perks and the ‘fancy’ feeling that they are special or what not, without realizing lives ride on this” immediately retorted Bastian, turning back and heading down the aisle towards the stairs. “Let’s get going, boy. We have our first case already.” 

The man with the ponytail stopped in the middle of the aisle, without turning back to face Vinn. “Ah, yeah, you have been assigned to me as my partner. Nice to meet you.”

“...Wow, alright then.” Vinn looked at himself one final time in the mirror, closed the door behind him, and went downstairs. That is one way to start your first day at the job.

                                                          -------

Old buildings next to new buildings, big billboards, empty cafes getting ready for the day, and children making their way to school, some of which were clearly Mythic kids disguised as Humans, if you knew were to look at the disguise magic they had on. The sky was a “way too damn early” cloudy, and the AC in the car was about the only thing that kept the two men from freezing to death in the cold, cold city’s morning. Just another day on Stroln City. Vinn was ready to unfasten his seat belt, but the car didn’t stop at what looked like the office. “...Aren’t we stopping by?”

“Nope. Any time spent there can be spent working. We are going to Marcelino 913. Go over the case notes while I get us there.”

“Necromancy, right?” Vinn responded immediately. “I was sent the case details over e-mail as well. Actual, real necromancy... Not what I expected my first case to be.” The young exorcist rubbed his chin. “And more strangely, we have a subdue order, not a termination order.”

“...Hold on, what?”

“Yeah, it says right here, look”

Vinn tapped the screen of his phone a couple of times and showed the screen to his partner on the wheel, highlighting the order details.

“...So they actually sent a mail with...”

“Hm? Sorry, what was that?”

“Oh, uh, no, yeah, that is very weird. A subdue order for a transgression this big...?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Man, I just assumed, I mean, I’ve gotten the order to smoke Mythics for way less, a capture order for a straight up Necromancer is crazy.”

Vinn’s posture changed, and he just gave a small nod, which Bastian noted but didn’t comment on. “Well, whatever.” continued Bastian. “Let’s get this done with. I’ll drop you off at Marcelino, then I’ll go at the other two neighborhoods where sightings were reported. I know you are crazy to start blasting things after finally graduating, but this is part of the job, too, got it? We interview and we get information right and proper. Don’t like it? That’s too b--”

“I know what this job entails, and you are trying way too hard with that “kid’ thing.” Vinn coldly interrupted, looking out of the window at an old billboard with indiscernible text due to the burn marks on it. “A pre-amnesia billboard...? How is that thing still up...?” the young man thought to himself.

“Oh, you did remember to bring your balls! Glad to see you aren’t a complete pushover.” Bastian remarked with a slimy grin, tapping his fingers against the wheel to the rhythm of the music. “If you don’t have any questions, that’s all.”

“I do, actually. Smoking... Mythics. Does that happen often?”

“...? You do know we are Exorcists, right? It’s kinda self explanatory from the name. Do you go the library and ask “do people read books here or what?””

“A difference, if I may” interrupted the new Exorcist. “Subduing is one thing, termination is another, but “smoking” adds a whole new layer of fucked up, if I may. If a criminal is doing objectively bad things, yeah, then we take action, but... Look, I guess what I am asking is... For exactly how little a transgression will we be “smoking” Mythics?”

Bastian’s fingers ceased their rhythmic tapping and, for the first time today, he wasn’t immediately vomiting words back at his new partner. “...Sometimes, for very little things, more than I am comfortable with. Sometimes, we don’t do the termination, because the piece of shit in front of us has good connections. Sometimes, we get “wrong information”, and we end up smoking perfectly god damn innocent Mythics just for the benefit of some asshole with big bucks and bigger influence, and sometimes--!” Holding himself back in time, the senior Exorcist realized he was raising his voice. The yelling wasn’t what surprised Vinn, it was the fact that it was the first show of true emotion Bastian had shown in the day. His eyes were those of an extremely bitter man.

“So basically, there’s a lot of--”

Before Vinn could say anything, the car stopped dead on its tracks, and Vinn had to put his hands forward to avoid smacking his face against the glove box.

“...We’re here. Get good info or don’t bother calling me.”

“Alright, mom.”

The car took off, and Vinn was left by himself, much to his relief. Just a few steps away from him was the house of one Hirose Akane. “’Smoking’ Mythics, huh? Whatever, let’s just focus on this...”. The young Exorcist approached the house and rang on the bell, waiting just briefly before the owner responded.

“...You must be with the MAB?”

“Good day, Miss Hirose. Indeed, I am Vinn Ingram, Seventh Off--”

“Come in.” is all she said before disappearing right back in the house.

“Well, then.” muttered a disappointed Vinn to himself, his first professional introduction in his job completely and utterly thwarted.

Inside the house, tons of trinkets lined the walls, a bizarre ox sigil was emblazoned on almost every piece of furniture, and the pungent scent of mana permeated the room with two sofas and a small center table, where tea being served by a small paper shikigami awaited. This was no civilian house, this was clearly the house of a mage, possibly an onmyoji, to be precise. Akane, a woman no older than 22, sat on the sofa, a sour expression that she didn’t even try to hide plastered on her face. Vinn stepped forward after she looked at him with curious eyes, as if wondering why he hadn’t taken a seat yet. “Not a single easy person on the first day, haha” he thought to himself as he took a seat.

“Well, I won’t take much of your ti--”

“Here.” again interrupted Akane, putting a daunting stack of papers on the table.

Vinn took the papers and gave them a quick-over. The names of Akane and presumably her family were in there, as well as several stamps and signatures. “What are these?”

“My documentation. I’m legit, as is everyone in this household. We are certified with the MAB, so there’s no problem with us practicing magic.”

“...Ma’am, there must be a confusion, I didn’t come here for this. I... Didn’t need to see this. I’m here regarding the necromancy sightings near Marcelino Street.”

“Oh, please, you were going to ask me for my documentation. You Exorcists always do this, trying to find the slightest flaw, the smallest chink in the armor. Well? All our papers are up to date. Write it down on that notebook, will you?”

Taking a moment, Vinn noticed six peeping eyes looking from a barely open door across the living room, eyes belong to children. With a resigned sigh, Vinn flipped through the onmyoji’s documentation rapidly and just put it down unceremoniously, just writing random lines on his notepad to at least assuage her nerves. 

“...Miss Hirose, can I ask you something?”

“All the paperwork is good!”

“Yes, I know, you are in the clear, and you haven’t a thing to worry about, that’s not it. I want to know... Are Exorcists, well, really that bad?”

The fact that Vinn had not contested any of the paperwork and looked genuinely puzzled confused the home owner. “What...? You aren’t here to... Hm, yeah, I guess you are” -- Akane finally relaxed, if just a little, resting against the sofa -- “I didn’t want to report anything at first, but my conscience wouldn’t let me sit idly, even if it meant dealing with Exorcists.”

“I see. I’m new on the job, started just today, and... Well, I don’t really know where all this hostility is coming from, I just guess I wanted to know, though I have a good guess” Vinn said, remembering his lovely partner.

“...Are you really an Exorcist? You don’t know about the beef between magic users and Exorcists? You are all always trying to screw us over, basically. Even when we are the ones to report crimes or anything, it’s always a thorough check on everything, everything before you actually get to the questions, as if trying to actively curb us! We are licensed by your system, and you still do this!” 

“According to the manual, these are safety checks to prove it isn’t a false lead or even a trap. They are not there to harm you, they are there to protect you.”

“Yeah, protect us by planting evidence on us when you are running low on your quota, right?”

“What? Our quo-- I know nothing of a quota!”

“Look, whatever, here’s what I know.” Akane snapped her fingers, and a small origami ox walked into the room, jumping onto Vinn’s lap and unfolding itself, revealing a list full of names written on its ‘body’. “Those are the names of the reanimated people in this neighborhood. They are all senior citizens and they are all... Fine, strangely. They are all mundane, so they don’t even know they are... Well... Dead.”

“About that,” Vinn interjected, moving onto this next topic. “They haven’t done anything bad? Was that part of the report right? They are just... Resuming with their lives... Uh, unlives, and minds intact?”

“Seems so” -- Akane sipped tea from her cup -- “The necromancy is so well done that we didn’t even notice until we realized that there was a lot of residue mana, well, everywhere. Do you smell that in the air? That’s a lot. Way more than the normal person can handle.”

“I just thought it was that way due to this being a mage household.”

“Hah! I wish we could produce this level of residue, no, whoever is behind this is way out of our league.”

Jotting down these findings, Vinn tapped his pen against his chin, trying to wrap his mind around this travesty of a case. He drank his tea, and then looked out of the window to notice some senior citizens going into a large yellow and white building. “Those old men and women... They are not alive. What’s that building?”

“...Hoh! Good eye, Exorcist. Yes, those are undead. Not that they know it. That’s the Marcelino Clinic, they usually go there for their check ups.”

“I know this is asking a lot, but would you know if every senior citizen here goes there?”

“Mm, yeah, they all go to that clinic since it’s close by and... Hold on, now that I think about it, yeah, everyone on this list goes there for their check ups, actually. This is a small neighborhood and we all know each other, so we know these things, but-- Ah!”

“What is it, Miss Hirose?” Vinn immediately prepared his pen.

“Just for some days, a new girl from elsewhere worked there as a nurse. All the old men and ladies were charmed by her, saying she was so very cute and a miracle worker for their back pains and stuff. Then, she was gone. Do you think...?”

Whatever she may have said after that fell upon deaf ears, for Vinn was furiously jotting down on his notebook and texting Bastian. “Many thanks for your help, Miss Hirose, and the tea was delicious”.

Vinn got up in a hurry and ran towards the door, but not before being stopped by Akane. “...Hold on one second. Ingram, was it? Are you in a hurry?”

“Hm? I have to wait for my partner to bring the car, so I have time until then, why?”

“...You are new, right? And your confusion seemed to be genuine. You... Truly don’t know of the cruelty of Exorcists?”

Vinn put his hand away from the doorknob and headed back towards the sofa. Before sitting down, he put down his cellphone and his notepad on the table, in front of Akane. “Miss Hirose, here’s everything I have on me. If it calms you down, check it, confirm that I am not recording anything. I want you to please tell me anything you can about this cruelty, because I swear on whatever it is that would make you believe me that I don’t know about it. I’m as green as they come, sadly, this is my first day in the job, and even before coming here, I already heard some pretty damn horrible things.”

Akane signaled to the many eyes hiding behind the door, and they disappeared before the door, finally shut properly. “...Those were my little siblings. Two brothers, one sister, lovely little things. They were worried you were here to take me away as well”.

“...As well? What does that mean?”

“Two weeks ago, we reported a felony. Simple stuff, really, just an oni that had gotten a bit too plastered and got in a fight with some construction equipment, heh.”

“Pfff-- P-please go on”

“...As soon as the dispatched Exorcists came, however... “ --Akane’s face soured and her eyes misted -- “...They came in and took our father into custody for having some goods that he had not yet reported. Every month, you have to fill up a--”

“--A KLB-98 pink and yellow forms, which detail all the arcane items in your possession and, in the case of the ones that are not listed in the Domestic Items Roster, you also have to explain why you have it, where you got it, and what do you intend to do with it.”

“...You know you paperwork, mister Exorcist. Yes, that is exactly it. We had filed our KLB-Whatever three days prior, and then the day before, my father acquired a certain item, nothing dangerous. Well, it wasn’t in the form we had submitted, so he was taken in. Do they expect us to update the form every single time we get something? He’s been at one of the MAB offices since then, apparently until he confesses.”

Although Akane was clearly disturbed, shock overcame her when she looked up and saw the utterly indignant Vinn. “...And it’s this everywhere else that you know of?”

“Y-yes, it’s definitely not an isolated case. Given this is actually a major and serious crime, we were sure you’d take me, or us, away. But we couldn’t just turn a blind eye to something this big, even if it meant--”

The cellphone on the table began vibrating. Vinn stood up, grabbed his possessions, and headed towards the door. “My drive’s here. Thanks for the information, Miss Hirose. I... Will see if there’s anything I can do about this.”

“R-right, thanks.” is all she could say at the sight of the calm man suddenly drowning in anger. A small paper ox approached the onmyoji, a handkerchief clenched in its mouth, which Akane used to wipe her sweat away. “...I didn’t think I’d be sleeping in this house this night.”

                                                         -------

“It’s me, Vinn. Did you check what I sent you?”

“Ingram, wait for me at the very spot I dropped you off, we need to go fast!”

“...Huh?”

“Your information more or less confirms it! I went to two other neighborhoods where necromancy had been sighted, and including your interview, they all said the same thing: Senior citizens going to a nearby clinic where a new girl that disappeared soon after worked briefly. In other words...”

“We have our girl... But, how do we know where she’ll strike next?”

A worn out dark blue car suddenly screeched right next to where Vinn was standing, door swinging open and almost flying away from the poorly oiled hinges. Inside, a maniacally joyful Bastian waved for Vinn to get in.

“She’s no mastermind, for sure! She went from this one to the next neighborhood with a clinic, and to the next after that one! I had Nick check their employment ledgers!”

“Nick?”

“Some asshole with four eyes and fast fingers, now get in! She should be at the next clinic, Hanlan Clinic! She’s been jumping around with different fake names, but she didn’t bother to change her appearance!”

There wasn’t much time for words in the frenzied car ride at speeds that made ballistics grow green with envy. Bastian and Vinn briefly cross checked their findings, and it was clear as day that their main suspect was this mysterious girl. Before they knew it, they had arrived at Hanlan Clinic, a small neighborhood clinic situated in the suburbs, close to a beautiful forest. Though still shaken by the ‘smoking’ and Akane’s tale, Vinn couldn’t help but feel a bonfire under his skin: He was finally going to do what he wanted, his very first case, and a major one, at that!

“...Hello there, Bastian Ashfield, Seventh Office” greeted Bastian, leaving out the outfit he belonged to, as Exorcists do when introducing themselves to mundane people ignorant of the mystic world hiding right in front of their nose. “I need to talk to one... Denise McCarthy. Is she on duty right now?”

An elderly lady sat behind the counter with a newspaper and a box of donuts, taking her eyes off the newspaper when the Exorcist approached her. “Yes, Denise is in right now! I’ll call her right now. Um... She’s not in any trouble, right...?”

“Nah, don’t worry, ma’am.” reassured Bastian with an uncharacteristically kind smile. “We just have some questions for her, is all.”

“Oh, phew! I’m glad that’s the case, I don’t know what we’d do without her! She’s such a kind girl and a miracle worker! With her help, patients that even doctors haven’t been able to deal with have suddenly been feeling great since she started! She also brings snacks for us every day! What a nice girl!”

Bastian and Vinn looked at each other. “Ma’am, did she bring those donuts right there?” Vinn inquired.

“Yup!”

“May I see them for a second? We didn’t have breakfast today, and those look great, I’d love to buy some on the way back to the office.”

“Sure thing, darling! Feel free to take one from the box while I got get her, if you so wish!”

“...Alright, Ingram, you were the top graduate of this year, right? Show me your SSSD.” whispered Bastian as he held the donuts box in front of Vinn.

SSSD, an abbreviation of Six Spells Of Self Defense, are the six basic spells any Exorcist must know, regardless of their rank or role, and they serve as the bare minimum requirement an Exorcist must fulfill before they are even considered for graduation or employment in the MAB. 

“In Te Fallitur” Vinn murmured, a subtle yet elegant light coating his eyes. “...These are normal donuts. Cream filled, actually. No mana or blight in them. She didn’t spike these.”

“Heh, what a graceful Fallitur.” Bastian commented as he returned the donut box. “You know what they say about the SSSD, right? They are six spells so simple, versatile and basic that they accurately reflect the caster.”

“That’s what they kept saying over and over at the Academy. I must have heard that hundreds of times, all the way from the first year.”

“Yours is delicate, Ingram. I can tell you like Fallitur. Subtle, graceful execution. You might not be suited to this job.” Bastian added, and yet his voice wasn’t the moustache-twirling try hard harsh from before. For a second there, it was genuine concern, perhaps honesty, peeking out of his mouth, much like in the car, which left Vinn quite unsure of what to think.

“Hello? Were you the officers that were asking for me?”

The two men turned to face the soft voice of a girl. A girl in nurse scrubs, with long purple hair tied in a side ponytail. Between the purple hair and the purple eyes, it was clear this was no normal person. Bastian and Vinn once again looked at each other, and in unspoken covenant, they casually moved to cover the exit.

“Miss McCarthy? I am Bastian Ashfield, and this is Vinn Ingram, we are from the Seventh Office, and we’d like to ask you some questions regarding your job-hopping.”

“J-Job ho-- I-I’ve never worked before... This is my first job as a nurse! I have my identification right here, look” the girl sheepishly answered, trembling, handing over an I.D. and some other papers.

“That’s nice, Miss McCarthy, real damn nice, except we didn’t ask for any documentation. Do you mean to say that you carry your documents with you at all times? Even in those scrubs, during work hours? Why did you assume we’d ask for your documents? I wonder why, Miss McCarthy?”

“...! Well, s-see, the thing is--”

“In Te Fallitur” the senior Exorcist whispered, and a radiant, scorching light manifested in his eyes, blanketing them whole. “I spy with little eye, some bullshit. So, we’ll need you to come with us to the Office, “Denise”, we sure as hell have some questions for you and your little revival circus you got going in here!”

“Leave me alone!” yelled the girl, extending both of her arms at the floor. Very suddenly, the stench of mana filled the room, and the skeleton of a large bird-like animal burst from the ground beneath her, running away from the Exorcists and jumping through a window.

“Shit! Get in the car, we are going after her!” exasperatedly yelled Bastian. Vinn didn’t know what to make of this other than they had the right perp. Now came the hard part: Actually subduing her.

                                                        -------

Even from inside the car, the heavy, powerful footsteps of the ostrich-like skeleton could be heard as the two Exorcists drove after it in the forest. Sharp lefts and feint rights were no match for Bastian’s skill behind the wheel, who expertly stayed on their tail.

“This is your last warning!” announced Vinn from the car. “Stop running right now and we’ll help you with your charges!”

The girl looked at them for just a second and then turned back to face the road in front of her. “I bet you say that to everyone before you smoke them real good! Go away, Exorcists!” 

“Damn, well, what do we do n--BASTIAN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“Cover your ears, kid!”

Right next to Vinn, half of Bastian’s body was hanging out of the window, right hand precariously handling the wheel while his left held a large shotgun. Vinn was about to say something, but it was completely drowned by the loud bang of the buckshot exploding out of the barrel and hitting the ostrich in the knee, sending it collapsing.

“And that’s “sir” or at least “Ashfield” to you, who the hell do you think you are talking to!”

“Where did you get that from!?”

With the ostrich felled, the necromancer fell and tumbled hard on the ground, alone and cornered around a sea of trees and two Exorcists. “No... No! Don’t... Don’t get close! Get away!” The panicked girl extended both arms towards the men and yelled words in a strange language, unleashing a wave of foul energies that rotted everything it caressed.

      “Oh, shit! Domunus Tecum!”                        “H-holy fu--! Domunus Tecum!”

A potent, almost blinding light barrier manifested in front of both men, repelling the blighted energy away from them. “She’s agitated! We gotta pin and silence her fast!” Vinn declared, but he soon realized his partner was not beside him anymore. “Wh-- Bastian?”

“...I said to call me Ashfield at least, Ingram.”

Vinn’s eyes followed where the voice came from, and they sure enough found Bastian, leisurely sitting atop a nearby tree. “It’s do or die, kid. With that blast she released, there’s gonna be a lot of walking dead to deal with.”

“...What are you playing at, Bastian?” Vinn asked, skeletons and fleshy corpses erupting from the blighted soil around him.

“I don’t do partners. I work alone. I don’t trust you, so you are gonna make me trust you. If you can deal with this shitfest, then maybe you have what it takes to do this job. If you can’t, well, you die and that’s one less problem for me” -- Bastian plucked a cigarette from pack and lit it -- “...Just kidding. I’m not gonna let you die, but I will let you get battered to a pulp before saving you. Show me that you really wanna do this.”

“Is that how it is, Bastian? You are a sick fuck, but I’ll play your game.” Vinn, thoroughly surrounded by the crawling death, seemed undaunted. The young man simply reached for his pocket and produced a pair of handcuffs. “This?” From behind Vinn, a corpse swung its blight-empowered hand, easily able to smash through concrete, right at Vinn’s head.

“This is nothing.”

At the very last second, Vinn stepped to the side and tripped the undead, sending it hurling to the ground with its own momentum before planting a crushing knee on its head. From his flank, a skeleton attempted to thrust Vinn with what was left of its jagged right arm, but Vinn caught it and flipped it over his shoulder against another incoming foe. Systematically and without much trouble, Vinn kept waiting for them to come at him before gracefully countering them.

“...That’s not the style they teach at the Academy. This is the opposite... Where did you learn to fight?” inquired the genuinely impressed Bastian, holding onto a terribly angry skeleton that was powerless to move from the casual yet effective hold Bastian had it in.

“None of your business. Your only business here is to see if I am taking this shit seriously, right? If I can do this job you oh so oppose me doing, no? Then shut up and watch.”

“Oh, but it is my business. MAB has always geared its operatives to either blast from afar or to go in like rabid dogs. Exorcists fight things much larger and much stronger than then, especially physically. Your style is not only completely god damn nuts, it’s also something I can tell you’ve been doing for a long time... It’s like you know exactly how to use the enemy’s own force. You didn’t come up with this in one day or two or even in the three years you spent at the Academy. This goes deeper. You are different in more ways that I can shake a rosary at.”

“...No comment.” replied Vinn, using his handcuffs to deflect a deadly thrust by expertly capturing the wrist of a foe mid-attack before using the momentum to spin them in the air right towards the ground.

“What’s more, I noticed something, Ingram. Your Fallitur earlier and your Domunus now were on a level unlike anything I’ve seen before from graduates. You are, honestly, on par with men and women much more experienced than you. You have a control of your mana that is absolutely crazy. It’s not unheard from Mythic-related families to have experienced spellweavers among them, but your expertise not only is still baffling by those standards, your style of channeling magic is different. You don’t do this the way we do.”

“...”

“So you know what I think, Ingram? There’s something you are not telling me. I ran a background check on you. Top graduate of your class and year, you are, yet, your friends could be counted in one hand. Your previous residence is some normal, normal neighborhood not known at all for its Mythics. Your professors and instructors spoke highly of you, yet they could never figure you out in the slightest. You were the top graduate, but also very socially maladjusted... And yet! You don’t have any difficulty speaking your mind, and you don’t behave like a reclusive dickhead or an antisocial kid. This is wrecking my nerves, Ingram! What the fuck are you!”

As Bastian went on and on, Vinn never stopped reacting to his foes’ assault. Dodge, parry, swipe, trip, throw, dodge, step, trip, grapple, knock, dodge. Despite his very perilous situation, the young man did not make a single mistake, and soon enough, no undead remained, only a terrified necromancer, sweating from overexertion, sweating that hid her tears.

“...I’m--”

“I don’t care what you are, Ingram”.

Bastian descended from the treetops, skeleton still in his casual “embrace”. “I don’t care what you are, Ingram, I care about what I see, and I care about what I can see you doing. If results are to speak, then they speak well of you. That’s what I care about.”

“...So I take it I pass your little te--Behind you!”

The necromancer’s wave had quite the reach, and far more soil than immediately discernible had been tainted. More and more corpses and skeletons approached from where the wave went, with seemingly no stop to them.

“My turn, I suppose.” nonchalantly shrugged Bastian, pushing his skeleton ‘friend’ away before unholstering two flasks from his belt.

“...? Flasks? Bastian, this is no time for a drink!”

Bastian simply responded with a smirk, turned around and, with a trained flicker of the thumbs, opened both flasks. Faster than thunder, two azure glistening tendrils emerged from the containers, cutting forth a swath of undead with no problem, burning them in contact and reducing them to white ashes. The tendrils then became blasts of water that covered all the undead, burning them and weighting them down.

“What...? The water is burning them!? What is this?”

“Oh, don’t have a knicker twister over this. It’s just one of the most basic and historied blessings in the history of blessings: Holy water.”

As the undead lay burning, the stronger, bigger corpses, clearly not belonging to humans and yet too maimed and decayed to be identified, still tried power through the soil wet with holy water. “But, see, that’s not all. The real point of what you are looking at is...”

The water beneath the corpses suddenly and unnaturally sprung up in the form of a thousand spikes, piercing their bodies like cruel spears, impaling them and burning them from within.

“....Hydromancy. Nothing too complex. I suppose you could call this something cheesy like “holy hydromancy”, but eh, it’s just splashing water that burns around, no? It doesn’t need a prim and proper introduction. There’s gonna be a lot more of them, so I’ll finish what I was saying later, for now, let’s--”

Mere seconds after Bastian had rolled up the sleeves of his coat and had retracted all water back into his flasks, an act Vinn noted with subtle shock, a weird metallic sound reverberated from Bastian. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, Bastian produced an empty soup can, and he placed it against ear as if it were a phone. “What is it? It’s about to get real busy, so please just--”

“BASTIAN! Get out of there!” a feminine voice clearly yelled from the soup can. “There’s a lot of undead in there!”

“Ow, my poor ears, you-- Dani, we know, that’s exactly why it’s about to get busy, I am about to grab ‘em by whatever is left of their sphincter and--”

“The problem is not the undead! Chief Toshiro ordered a Siren deployment! S-she’s already on her way there, get out of there while you can!”

Vinn didn’t quite get what this ‘Dani’ person meant by “Siren deployment”, but there was no point in asking: It had to be really bad, judging by how Bastian had gone fully pale. “...Bastian? Oi, what’s a ‘Siren deployment’? Is everything--”

“Everything is very god damn bad, Ingram. Grab the necromancer, we are getting out of here.”

“Should I go get the car?”

“I said to grab her, we are getting the hell out of here, now!” -- the hydromancer looked around frantically until he noticed a nearby hill -- “Up that hill, we need to get there!”

Vinn had no clue what was going on, but he knew it had to be bad if the guy that was effortlessly mowing down scores of the undead was suddenly running with his tail between his legs. “Miss Necromancer, can you walk? We need to get out of here immediately.”

“...? You... Are not here to smoke me...?”

“We are here to ask you some questions, but that’ll have to wait, we’ll have our conversation back at the office, but for now, we need to get out of here, now.” Further inquiry was unnecessary: The necromancer was clearly going through mana exhaustion and physical fatigue, no doubt from the massive wave of blighted energies that she had unleashed. Necromancy is no easy feat, and just resurrecting one person is considered an achievement among those who practice the art. “Please excuse me”.

Without forgetting to mind his manners, Vinn hoisted up the girl and took to running behind his partner. “Can we make it there in time?”

“Yeah, I just got an idea. Come here, hold onto the girl real tight, and, well, do you like piggyback rides?”

“...Pardon?”

“Piggyback rides, Ingram, do you like them?”

“...You better not be thinking what I think you are thinking.”

“Wow, you’ll get along swimmingly with Nick, I can tell. Come.”

There were no witnesses to see this, no cameras to remember it, no recordings to immortalize it, but on August 4th of the year 33 P.A., a man carrying a girl and riding piggyback on the back of another man flew through the skies, propelled by two powerful jets of water. “You were thinking it!” “It’s do or die!” “Wheeeee~!”

                                                        -------

The exhausted girl is joined by an exhausted man on top of a forest hill that overlooked the whole area. Beneath them, a small horde of undead writhed and crawled, the desperate energies that brought them up pulsating chaotically within them. 

“...I assume you can’t just tell them to go back to sleep peacefully, right?” inquired the barely standing Bastian, clenching an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The girl shook her head. “I-I’m sorry, I would if I could, I panicked back there and ended up raising so many people, I didn’t want to...”

“Accidental necromancy, at that?” Vinn laughed. “You are stupidly talented, man, what a troublemaker... Bastian, now that we are here, what is a Siren?”

The older man’s face grew dire. “You are about to see for yourself, sadly. She’s here.” Bastian pointed towards where the small horde was, and approaching it was a large black truck, completely unlabeled and yet clearly highly armored and advanced. After it got sufficiently close, its doors swung open and an ominous vapor surged from within. Mere seconds later, what looked like a girl in highly advanced armor and a sharp-looking headpiece stepped out. The light blue hair looked even more striking against her silver and dark outfit, and whatever color her eyes were, it was impossible to tell due to the visor that covered them.

“That’s the Siren? What is she wearing?”

“Her coffin.”

“...What...?”

Before anything else could be said, the horde took notice of the girl and began rampaging towards her. In a hurry, the black truck left, and the girl was left all alone in front of the violent ocean of muscle and rot. With a delicate gait, the girl simply pointed forward and opened her mouth.

“Laaa~”

A beautiful sound, like the song of a bird. A fragile melody, demure and warm. A sweet chime, simple and clean.

That is not what came out of the girl’s mouth.

The sounds that came from her mouth were twisted and abnormal. They could be heard clearly, as if someone’s fingernails raked against a blackboard right next to your ears. They had a certain echo different from the one we are familiar with, a sound between tragedy and euphoria, a tone that doesn’t know whether it wants to continue forever or not exist anymore. The cacophonous sound wasn’t a voice, it was something hellish and torturous that was pitiable more than terrifying. A sad, sad catastrophe. And when the sound which cannot be described as anything except audible anxiety came, so came those who obey it, those who pledge a knee to the sounds that never were meant to be heard. 

Faster than the eye could see, flashes of dark and silver ripped through the horde, tearing apart whatever they could find with vicious maws. Those not immediately caught by the beasts were instead obliterated by flying masses of metal and ordinance that responded to the song that the Siren monotonously sang, loud explosions decimating not only the horde, but also the forest. At no point was this fight fair: The Siren didn’t even have to lift a finger, because just by producing her “voice”, an army of robotic hounds and ravens, summoned from seemingly nowhere, had already decimated the area. The undead horde was no more. The trees were no more. The animals and insects that lived there were no more. The nearby house were no more. The land was scorched and sterile, a combination of cruelty and sacrament working together to cause as much irreparable damage as possible, the epitome of excessive force with no guilt to speak of behind it.

Truthfully, this was a tragedy.

“...The forest, the houses... What the hell was that?!”

“Calm down, Ingram.”

“That’s excessive! What about the people in those houses!? What about the nature that was harmed!?”

“...This is a forest to the side of a suburban neighborhood that already doesn’t have much people in it. Those who lost their houses, assuming they didn’t lose their lives, will be explained to the media as victims of accidents, such as gas leak explosions. Those who unfortunately died, if any, will be reported as missing persons. Mundane police will look for them, exhaust resources on their search, and then give up. They will be another number on top of the disappearances.”

“That’s...!”

As Vinn stared at the little monster that had done this, from quite afar, she looked right back at him, dead in the eye, paralyzing the young detective. Around her, the shapes of dark and silver had finally settled down after the carnage, and there she stood, among a veritable army of dog-looking constructs coated in the massacre they just partook of, flanked by an airborne squadron of bird-like machines, which flew in circles above its master. Soon after, the unlabeled black truck returned, and the little monster calmly went inside, disappearing inside the ominous carriage as it drove away at last, the hellish cybernetic army dispersing with the same speed it appeared.

“...Bastian, how long has this been going on for?”

“Years. And you never heard a word of it in the Academy. No one did.”

“...What the fuck is wrong with them!? Who is behind this!?”

“Vinn Ingram, listen to me.”

Bastian’s sudden call made Vinn freeze and finally calm down for a second. He had his attention.

“I will continue what I was saying before, so listen well,” he said, putting out the cigarette and looking at Vinn straight in the eyes. “I don’t care about what you are, Ingram. I only care about your attitude and your efficiency. You showed me today you can handle yourself, you showed me today that you dislike what you see, that you don’t like this subterfuge, all these secrets and the ‘smoking’. Ingram, I agree with you. The Exorcists are a bunch of bad eggs, very bad eggs. There’s very few good ones among us, very few that still take protecting citizens, Humans and Mythics, seriously. It’s become a hunt, it’s become an abuse of power, an abominable we versus them scenario, and that’s never what it was supposed to be! Mythics are people, just like you and I, but somewhere in the MAB, something has gone rotten and wicked. This is where you come in, Ingram.”

Bastian extended his hand towards Vinn. “I am still not fully sold on you, but today, you showed me your heart is in the right place. Will you help me, help us, find the parasite that lurks within this body and extract it? Will you help us turn the MAB into what it was truly meant to be? The entity that makes this fucked up, amnesiac world into a peaceful place for Human and Mythic alike, where there’s no need for secrecy, where we can all hold each other’s hands? Will you help me, Vinn? So no more Sirens have to scar the earth? So no more Mythics have to be sold to slavery? So no more Mythics are kept caged as if they were exotic pets, god damn it?!”

“I will.” answered the younger man without missing a beat. “I don’t like what I’ve seen and heard one bit. I graduated with one thought in mind: To change the world for the better. It sounds like idealistic dribble, but I truly do mean it. I want Mythics to have the same safety as Humans, the same rules, the same opportunities. I will help you, no, I insist you let me help.”

The two shook hands, and Bastian smirked. “... I mentioned how I am not fully sold on you yet, right? Well, don’t worry too much about it, it’s easy to find a way for you to prove yourself in that one last regard I need to confirm, but for today, damn, let’s call it a day.” -- he turned to the necromancer -- “Oi, you. What’s your real name?”

“H-Hrodwyn, sir. Hrodwyn Eir.”

“Oh, Norse, aren’t you? Well, you should be able to stand up now. You heard us, we don’t care about smoking you in the slightest. Hell, even if we did, we have explicit orders to bring you back alive, so please, ease up already. I’ll be interrogating you later, but for now, you’ll hafta stay at the Office for a while. Don’t worry, you didn’t commit any actual crimes.”

“R-right, thank you, sir.” replied the nervous necromancer. “Um, I guess I can explain my motives, but we should leave that for later, right? In fact, you look kinda worn out, I’m a nurse, so let me check you out, maybe I can help!”

“Right-o, you keep your hands to yourself, missy, I got no interest in being a corpse. I care about my complexion.”

“Aww, alright... I just wanted to help...”

“Let’s get going, then. God damn, we should’ve accepted some of the donuts, after all. I’m starving.”

“Haha, yeah, we should go for some donuts on the way back, honestly.” added Vinn.

“Actually, yeah, Necro here is paying for ‘em for the trouble.”

“But my name is Hro--”

“Shit’s too hard to say, you’re Necro now.”

“A-aww...”

          Of hospitals, Hippocratic... Suggestions, and a lot of cyber dogs:                                 -- Chapter 1: First Day At The Job --                                      -- Chapter 1: Reality Check --                                                          End...?

--Hours later, at night that day--

A new suit, wrinkled and dusty.

A new tie, finally undone and recently worn.

A hearty dinner, still in the making.

Today was finally over.

Vinn Ingram grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge -- his favorite -- and was about to turn on the lights of his living room, when he noticed he was not alone. In front of him, a female silhouette with large horns and wings stood in the darkness, the window that leads to the night open behind her. The daemonic presence seemed to have had noticed the apartment owner’s return, as its bright eyes stared inside Vinn’s green own.

Setting the bottle down, Vinn slowly approached the mighty and intimidating creature, reached with his hand, and... Yanked her by the horn hard.

“Simeag! What in the world are you doing here!?”

“A-Aaaaaah! H-hey, woah, stop pulling by my horn, you bully! P-please stop, I am getting dizzy! Vinn, come on, be nice to your sister!”

The young man let go of the horn of the girl with the long, dark red hair, and immediately as he did, the demon rushed him, trapping him in a big ol’ hug. “You! You have no idea how much we have missed you! And that’s the first thing you do as soon as you see me!? I even showed myself in so as to not bother you! Vinn, you are too much sometimes!”

“Hggg... Sis... You’re... Crushing me... Pfff, hahaha... Ah, it’s good to see you, Sim.” finally let out the suffocated Vinn, hugging his sister back softly. “You have to understand, though! It’s really dangerous for you to be here in Stroln! What if humans see you!?”

“I just eat them, then”

And Simeag earned herself another Horn Yank.

“I’M KIDDING, I’M KIDDING, I just came to say hi and check on you, since you start working today! I made sure to not be seen, and they won’t catch me in the dead of night. Ah, well, Mom told me to tell you that she--”

“--That she’s suffering from an intense, mortal poison, and that the only way to cure her is for me to go back to Oflans.” “--That she’s suffering from an intense, mortal poison, and that the only way to cure her is for you to go back to Oflans.”

The siblings looked at each other and laughed.

“Good ol’ mom is fine, I take.”

“She sure as hell is. Lim also says hi, and... Aw, EVERYONE says hi! We wanna know when you are going to come back to visit!”

There were many ways to describe what Vinn’s face looked like right now, but the most apt is definitely “a goofy, genuine smile”. Vinn went to the kitchen and got another bottle of juice, which he casually tossed to Simeag. “...I just started work, so I dunno when, but as soon as I get some days off, I do plan on going back.” There were many ways to describe what the demon girl’s face looked like right now, but the most apt is definitely “a goofy, genuine smile”.

“That’s great! Ahaha, it’s just... It’s so nice to see how much you’ve grown, bro. You look worn out, though, rough day?”

“Very.”

“Haha, darn... Well, I really want to stay and chat for more, but... The time.”

“A-ah, yeah...”

“It’s fine, though, I’ll tell Mom, Lim, and everyone else that you are doing great! I wish I could’ve stayed for longer, but you’ll get your break eventually! Oh, yeah, Lim and I managed to sneak out a little something for you. It’s in the envelope on the sofa.”

“Ooh, what it is?”

“A surprise~”

Simeag approached her little brother and gave him another hug, soft and caring this time, which the young man who tried as hard as he could to not look sad returned.. “We’ll see you soon, ‘kay?”

“Mmhm. Love you, sis, say hi to Mom, Lim, and everyone else for me.”

“Love ya too, we all do, every day.”

With that, the demon unfurled her wings and flew into the dark night of the city. As much as he wanted her to stay, Vinn knew it was dangerous for demons to be in Stroln, and so he had no option but press her so. As he downed the bottle of juice, he couldn’t help but wonder what was inside the mystery package, until he took a better look at it, and recognized the shape. “Wh-- No, no no no...”

And when he undid the leather package that contained it, Vinn almost felt his heart jump out of his throat. “What the--! Sim and Lim, you are crazy! How the hell did you-- Oh man, no one can see this...”

                                                         End