"To understand that you are one of us now."
Four eyes' words sank into my very being — so deeply that I didn't even pay Shija, the one leading me to my room, any attention. Though she didn't either.
It's weird walking beside her. I never thought I'd live past the tunnel.
I can't really say if I'm disappointed or grateful to her.
Well. What's done is done.
I'm most certainly going to die anyway — I mean, me, Sammael, killing the seven gods alongside them?
It didn't take brilliance to state the obvious. And the obvious is that I'm levels apart from them. Maybe as far as the distance between the earth and the mo—
"We're here," Shija said, her voice calm and polite — as if we hadn't just met.
I lifted my head off the ground, yet I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I wanted to ask what she meant that day.
"See you soon."
"Is there something on my face?"
She startled me, honestly. Was I that obvious?
"T-thank you."
She smiled coldly.
I opened the door, but just as I was about to step inside, Shija said, "Wait — I almost forgot."
Then she pulled out a black, clean dagger.
I tilted my head.
"That's—"
"Yes. It's yours. You left it in that soldier's guts."
My eyes widened.
She cleaned my dagger for me?
That's… warming.
"Y-you didn't have to do that!
It's just a dagger after all."
Her eyes narrowed. A moment of silence.
"He didn't tell you, did he?"
Who is she referring to?
"That bloody angel…"
Lucifer? Somehow that nickname sounded better than 'chained angel' — though I couldn't tell if it was just her lovely voice doing the work.
"Those daggers are the most valuable things to us. The apostles."
"Umm… why?"
"Without those daggers we can't communicate with Lucifer. They are an extension of his authority over the human world."
She paused at the word 'daggers.'
And why am I blushing?!
"He didn't tell me that…"
She chuckled and threw the dagger across the room.
I looked behind me — it was fixed into the wall.
It didn't really bother me.
"That way you won't lose it again," she said cheerfully.
Yet her eyes didn't move at all. Cold as ice.
"I'll be taking my leave now."
Then she walked away — but stopped midway. And don't ask me why I was still watching her.
"Good night, Sammael."
Somehow all my fatigue lifted at once.
Maybe life has some perks.
I entered my room.
It was surprisingly as large as our entire small home — a giant bed and a bathroom all to myself. Not that I'd had anyone to share space with these past years anyway.
But how much do these terrorists make?
I turned off the lights and jumped onto the bed.
"I'll ask four eyes tomorrow…" Well, that's what I said naively. It didn't cross my mind that I'd be lying in bed for nearly three nights.
Those three days were the strangest I'd ever lived. I couldn't tell whether I was asleep or not — hard to determine in the dark, I suppose.
Sweat and hunger became my only companions. Well — those, and the pinned dagger somewhere on the wall.
It's almost funny. The pack of cigarettes was right beside me and I didn't even need a lighter thanks to Batrica's trick.
Yet I couldn't decide which hand should pick it up.
My right or my left?
Both seemed equally tired and drained.
A question crossed my mind as my left hand twitched. Why is it that the right path means good? Can't the left be right too?
It felt similar to us. Humans. No — false humans. The term applies to both the blessed and the cursed alike, yet they sweeten the words to feel better about themselves.
My left hand was closest to the cigarette pack — yet every time I tried to move it, it only twitched.
I checked my right hand. Functioning perfectly well.
I held my left hand with my right and grabbed the pack.
"Why didn't you just use your right hand?"
I don't know. It felt wrong to.
I opened the pack.
Empty. As empty as this room. Maybe as empty as me.
It felt ridiculous — half an hour of deliberation, and the pack was empty all along.
Worthless, may—
Someone knocked on my door again. The third time now.
Oh right — I forgot to mention how I even figured out how long I'd been here.
It's even more ridiculous. Near the wall there's a window, and every time the light outside went off, one of them knocked.
The first, surprisingly, was four eyes.
"Are you alright, kid?"
He said those words and left — without attempting to force the door open, which I appreciated.
The second was Alice. She opened the door when I didn't answer.
"The hell? He's still sleeping?"
Well, I hoped that was the case, hot blonde.
She exhaled and left, closing the door gently.
The strange thing wasn't their kindness or even the fact that they cared.
It was that I didn't want to stand — not because I was in pain.
I can't feel pain.
That's what makes me special… at least, that's what my mother said.
Yet I can't ignore this feeling.
That sensation resting somewhere deep in my chest.
Maybe it's not about getting out of bed… or moving on with my life.
Not even about doing something 'productive'… like killing the seven gods.
Maybe it's just the uncertainty.
If I stand up… I might find happiness.
Hell, I might even lose my virginity.
But what if it leads to suffering instead?
To pain?
It's pathetic, I know.
I've never really felt pain… not until a few days ago.
And yet here I am.
Unable to move.
The knocking grew rougher and sharper — as if whoever was outside wanted to break either me or the door.
I heard voices outside.
"Shija? The hell are you doing?" Alice's voice.
"What does it look like I'm doing? Waking up that lazy brat!" Shija's sharp, harsh tone.
"Isn't it funny that you of all people are calling him a brat?"
"I'm twenty-one!"
Oh… she's older than me?
Well. That explains a LOT.
A third voice entered their conversation — though it sounded more like cats and dogs.
"What's all this noise for?" Armin, irritated.
"Nothing really… just Shija being Shija." Alice, sarcastically.
"Well, there's no changing her—"
THE DOOR BROKE?
SHE BROKE THE DAMN DOOR?
"Shija… this is a bit much," Armin said, trying to calm her down.
She ignored him and went straight to the light switch, flooding the dark room.
Her expression was perfectly calm — which only made me wonder what she looks like when she's actually angry.
She walked calmly and stood directly in front of my bed.
She raised her hand and suddenly a rope of red shot through like a bullet and coiled around my neck.
"Huh?"
"E-excuse me?"
She ignored me and walked away.
Which would have been the best possible outcome — IF I weren't attached to her like a dog on a leash.
I fell off the bed.
"Hey?"
I looked at Armin. "A hand, maybe?"
He didn't even glance at me.
"FOUR EYES?"
I looked the other way. Alice was there.
She was laughing.
"Guys, please help m—"
Suddenly the smell of that rope — its texture too — became a bit too familiar.
Wait.
Isn't this the same rope that covered her chest? The only thing that covered her?
"Good luck, Sammael!" Armin and Alice said, waving as we passed them.
Well — to be honest.
Being walked around like a dog by such a cute girl isn't that bad after all. Especially when I'm too lazy to move.
We left the base — and to my surprise, it wasn't the only thing there.
A garden so beautiful that even intrusive thoughts went quiet.
"Gardeners? Children?!"
Aren't we supposed to be terrorists?
Shija exhaled and stopped walking.
"Look up."
I forced my head off the ground and looked up.
We were underground.
"Yes. Lucifer's subjects all live here — beneath the region of the west."
Interesting.
"And can you stand up already?
For your sake, not mine."
You're the one who dragged me out here.
What does she mean, for my sake?
I'm actually comfort—
"Hahaha… Mom, Shija got herself a dog!"
"Shh — don't be disrespectful. You might end up like him too."
"Shija — get this thing off me now!"
"My neck is completely stiff. What kind of monster are you?" I said playfully, sitting beside her under a white tree.
"So… you're not her dog, mister?" The kid who'd been laughing at me abandoned his mother and ran toward us.
"I'm not, you brat!"
"At least I've never been on a leash…"
"You little shi—"
Shija chuckled.
But her eyes were strange. They looked… too warm.
Too joyful, for just a moment.
What caught me off guard was that the kid hadn't called me a demonic clown or a jester.
I looked at the reflection in a mirror the little kid was holding.
And to my surprise — I wasn't that demonic clown anymore.
"Why are you sad, mister?"
Maybe this kid isn't so bad after all—
"Don't worry, you're not that ugly.
You're just mediocre — especially next to Miss Shija!"
The kid grabbed the mirror from my hand and held it up to Shija.
"Shija, look — you're so beautiful!"
She patted his head.
"Thank you."
Suddenly I noticed a man walking toward us. A farmer, most likely.
The kid looked scared — he was hiding behind me.
When the man reached us, he half-knelt before Shija.
"Sorry to interrupt, Apostle. Lady of Red."
Lady of Red? Why is he kneeling?
Shija didn't seem to care.
The man stood up and spotted the kid hiding behind me, grabbing his ear.
"I told you not to bother strangers, Louk!"
"Sorry, Dad…"
The man reminded me of my father for some reason.
He used to chase after me through the streets — just so I could peek behind the metal barriers separating us from the nobles.
I didn't envy them particularly. I just wanted to play with Kayle, who lived on the other side.
"Sorry for any trouble, young man."
Louk's father apologised.
Why is he apologising?
I opened my mouth, trying to find words — and ended up laughing instead.
"No need for that —
Dad—" it slipped. "Sir! I mean, sir."
The man chuckled.
"I haven't seen you before. Are you new? Where are your parents?"
I smiled and raised my left hand from my pocket.
"Well — she just dragged me here.
She's a demon!" I said, glancing at Shija.
But the man didn't respond with warmth or a chuckle as I expected.
Instead he dropped to his knees and began to beg.
"Forgive me, Apostle!
I didn't know. Please forgive my ignorance!"
What… the hell?
Why is he treating me like some kind of master?
Shija clicked her tongue.
"It's okay. Just go," she told the farmer.
The man scrambled away, pulling his son by the arm.
I felt… disgusting.
"It seems you've just learned your first lesson."
Lesson?
"The people living here are just farmers and gardeners who fled when the fifth war began and the mandatory conscription started."
Something inside me turned bitter.
"But why are they treating us like—"
"Gods?
We don't want them to. And we don't fully understand why they fear us either."
She pulled out a cigarette pack and offered me one.
She lit hers and held out the lighter.
But mine was already lit.
"H-how did you light it?"
I chuckled.
"A dead cat taught me how to summon fire from my mouth."
She smiled, looking out at the beautiful garden — children playing, adults working with quiet contentment.
Thank you, I said.
"Why are you thanking me?
I dragged you here like a dog."
I exhaled smoke. "But if you hadn't, I could never have seen something this beautiful…
Besides — you were surprisingly gentle. I actually had fun."
She laughed for the first time.
Her laughter was dazzling.
Nothing could possibly ruin this moment.
"Hey, you two," Armin called, waving.
Too optimistic. That's on me.
"I have a mission for you both — before his trials of hostility."
Huh?
A mission?
Trials?