Ashuradō, Yomi — Outside the Grand Sanctum of Demiurge. Naraka walked along the pale sidewalk, lined with pristine fields of grass that had been freshly mowed. Birds chirped above as his black, feathered cape fluttered behind his waist like water given shadow. Looking up, he smiled at the grandiose building before him.

It was the Grand Sanctum of Demiurge: the first construct created by the legendary architect. The sanctum was massive in scale, impossible to witness in its entirety with a single glance. It exuded majesty and a sense of refinement that could never be replicated within a mortal’s lifetime.

The crested, domed spire that proudly displayed Yomi’s national flag sat like a crown atop the primary structure. The spire curled around the base to the ground below like a serpent, making it resemble a twisted conch. To even reach the entrance one had to walk up three sets of widened stairs; made from marble so pure it was nearly transparent.

Such a monumental location was fitting for those it housed, as the sanctum was the seat of Yomi’s government. Diplomats and magistrates alike convened within its historic chambers, sitting within the same chairs as their ancestors once did.

Naraka casually walked up to translucent steps, his hands tucked away behind his back with fingers interlaced. He wasn’t here on Mara’s behalf, but by his own accord. Within the past few weeks, tensions between Yomi and Nirvana were steadily coming to a boil. With the emperor hell-bent on the prospect of war, every day that passed brought with it the possibility of waking to news of a coming armageddon.

He strolled past a large fountain within the middle of the plaza leading to the sanctum’s doors. Within the fountain was an ornate statue of a small child bearing a face of pure innocence. Statues of the demon god Kagutsuchi were a common sight at prestigious locations; acting as a vigil to ward off evil and misfortune.

Naraka ignored the statue’s presence as others prayed and sat by the fountain’s edge, focused on his primary objective.

—The need for such things...

Sighing inwardly, Naraka withdrew a hand to open the door leading inside when unexpectedly the door swung towards him. Before anyone witnessing could bat an eyelash, Naraka effortlessly teleported backwards to avoid being hit.

A rush of men and women in a torrent of black and grey suits and dresses flooded from the opened doors. Naraka stood where he was as others passed by him, most bowing out of respect from seeing such a high-ranking member of the empire.

—The house was recently dismissed. Just my luck.

The crowd thinned within seconds as the deluge of people slowed to a dribble. With his path clear, Naraka pressed forward past the brass doors gilded with bronze accentuation and crowning.

His eyes panned over the magnificent display of a foyer, complete with elevators on both sides of the near ceiling-less room. The floor was a mixture of ivory and pristine carpet; practically untouched as if it had just been woven. One single massive chandelier hung from the limitless ceiling, stretching down from above and suspended by ten golden chains intertwined. The masterpiece is priceless, decorated with jewels and crystals worth more than the lives of nearly everyone present in the room itself.

The entrance was created to make every first impression sublime, each time unique. It was commonplace for first-time visitors to stare cow-eyed around the majesty of the building for several minutes, like they had been placed in a trance. After seeing the spectacle countless times however, it had lost its luster on Naraka as he passed through the familiar chamber without any thought or care.

Pressing a button located next to the elevator, Naraka waited patiently until the silver doors eventually parted with a mechanized chime. He stepped inside, alone in the small room of glass and precious metals. Tapping the button that led to the third floor, he began to ascend.

Naraka looked down through the glass as the people below became smaller. With another chime signaling his requested departure, Naraka resumed focus and continued towards the office belonging to the Minister of Defense.

Swallowing his saliva and mentally preparing his words, he readied himself to intrude.

Pulling the dual doors open, Naraka found himself face-to-face with a grey-suited woman. She was slightly taller than the average female, with a slim face that pointed downwards like a heart. Her hair was a blackish red, similar to the brittle petals of a dead rose. It was styled into an asymmetrical bob cut; curving and elongated only on the left side. The woman’s eyes were shielded by square-framed sunglasses, tinted into a dark yellow.

“Laz Larsa, a pleasure to see you again; especially after your recent promotion!” Naraka said happily. “I suppose it’s ‘Superintendent Larsa’, now?”

Larsa smiled coyly, her full lips stretching into an expression that was routine for her. “Yes, thank you Chief Advisor. I’m happy my efforts are at last becoming realized, thanks to His Majesty,” she said with a distinctive nasally accent.

Naraka laughed softly as he played a casual approach with his junior. He knew how powerful this woman truly was. Laz Larsa commanded every police force across the continent. Such a coveted position was placed into her hands by none other than her master, Nergal to which she was his Thrall.

Some whispered that she rose to power through certain favors for her master. Others believed that the accidents that happened to befall others that challenged her weren’t so innocent in nature. Nonetheless, any who spoke such words found themselves quickly implicated in treasonous crimes and banished to the deepest depths of Yomi’s prisons.

“Superintendent, you wouldn’t happen to be hiding Lord Nergal in here would you…? I have urgent matters to discuss with him.”

“Unfortunately, you just missed my Lord. He had to oversee court today.”

“Court? Was that the stampede that nearly ran me over as I came in?”

“Most definitely. It was in regards to the… assassin’s remains. I presume you’ve heard, Advisor?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of partaking in the latest gossip. Please, divulge.”

Naraka crossed his arms with a relaxed yet inquisitive smile. Larsa mirrored his actions, resting her arms atop her chest.

“The Empire of Nirvana has forsaken ownership of the assassin’s remains after such a lengthy exchange, likely an attempt to forestall another Great Soul War.”

“The assassin, as in Commander Sierro?” Naraka asked, his tone requesting confirmation.

“The same. His body has been kept on ice ever since my Lord rightfully cleaved his neck. As I always say, one man’s justice always begets another’s.”

Naraka feigned delighted surprise, all the while turning over the newfound facts he had received. Nothing sat right with him after that ‘execution’, which was more of a show than anything resembling justice to him. His final words had been edited from the air and only heard from those nearby, but Naraka clearly remembered hearing Sierro plead, as if he didn’t expect to truly die that day.

“I’ll relay the information to His Majesty, Superintendent.”

Naraka bowed as Larsa did the same. He turned to leave and began walking down the hallway where he began.

“Thank you again. I hope you have a lovely day, do drive safely,” he spoke while continuing his stride.

As he disappeared behind the corner, Larsa continued to stand in place unmoved. Her lips relaxed and returned to a frown as she glared curiously behind her glasses.

❇ ❇ ❇

Ema, Monido — Moments after Mura and Lilith’s departure from the bar. Mura took Lilith’s cell phone from her hand and brought in to his ear, answering the call from Zozo.

“Yo-yo, it’s Zozo~!” he chirped in a singsong voice. “I got your new contract from HQ in, Mister Headband! This one is a doozy!”

Mura smirked from hearing Zozo’s excitement.

“Sure, lemme hear it kid.”

“So here’s the skinny: we have a report of a human performing and practicing magic not too far from your current location. She’s dangerous and scary, so be careful! Her name is Hangaku Amano, you gotta assassinate her! Witches can be pretty powerful, so don’t let her know you’re a demon! Try to get her guard down, when she’s away from whatever she’s using as a Thrall!” Zozo read off the report he was given. “Annnnnnnd that’s all it says here! Good luck! You’ll need it! Oh, and this is a collect call, so my fee will be deducted from your reward—”

With that, Mura hung up unceremoniously. He rolled his eyes at the imp’s money-hungry tactics before returning the phone to Lilith.

“So what’d he say, Mura? What’s our next target~?” she questioned with anticipation.

“A witch named Hangaku Amano, apparently. From the report, she’s pretty deadly and close-by. We can’t let her know we’re assassins, obviously… so the bosses recommended we locate her Thrall and destroy or apprehend it without her knowledge.”

“Oooh! It’s a stealth mission, like that retro video game about the soldier-guy!”

“That’s what it looks like. Apparently Zozo’s gonna send us the coordinates to her known location, so be on the lookout—”

“Hey Mura, look! On the television, it’s the park from last night!”

He turned his attention to what Lilith was pointing at. Nearby the street and overhead was a massive projection screen showing a Japanese news station. Currently on-screen just as Lilith said, helicopter footage showed the forest Mura had fought at the night prior. The cave’s entrance was taped off and police surrounded the perimeter.

“Last night, police discovered the bodies of several teenaged high-school girls after receiving an anonymous tip. All were identified as the missing children of Ema’s Sekien Academy, with the most recent being Junko Takagi,” a female news anchor reported.

Mura stood with Lilith to watch the footage, ignoring her phone buzzing to see how human media would interpret the events.

“The suspect identified in these horrific murders: previously convicted murderer Masashi Koizumi, was quickly apprehended shortly after the discovery. Koizumi was released on parole two months ago but quickly surrendered himself after police located his residence,” the anchorwoman said, the footage cutting away from the cave to her seated at a white desk.

“He continues to maintain his innocence, meanwhile the victims are expected to be honored and buried sometime this week. Vigils within the park and at the school are currently underway. Families are grief-stricken, with such vicious killings not being seen since the serial-killings of Tsutomu Zayasu just four years ago.”

Mura leaned against the glass pane looking into the bar, crossing his arms. He continued to watch the footage while lightly squeezing Lilith’s hand.

—So Kirin had Shuten’s crimes pinned on some lowlife that just got out of prison. Clever, but still… that man is most likely going on death row for crimes he didn’t commit. Even if he was a murderer previously, I don’t know how to feel about all of this…

Lilith sighed and checked her phone, noticing the text were GPS coordinates to Amano’s location.

“Let’s go, no time to waste,” Mura commanded as the two set off.

The walk was brief, roughly only a seventeen-minute stroll. It allowed Mura to get used to foot travel more within the human city. Lilith had even stopped to gawk at a duo of squirrels gathering around a food truck, waiting for scraps.

“We’re here, but… this is where the witch is?” Mura asked, scratching against his headband.

“Yeah, from what I remember in movies and manga, this is where witches usually don’t hang out…” Lilith questioned, wondering if they had the wrong location.

The GPS on Lilith’s phone declared they were at the correct location. The surroundings were peaceful and quiet, in a small sectioned off sub-division of the city. They were currently in front of the gates to a typical Shinto shrine.

“Well, let’s take a look around I guess.” Mura said, shrugging his shoulders.

He climbed up the stone-cut steps to the shrine’s entrance, passing underneath the torri archway. As he did, he felt an odd feeling overcome him. Nothing of the painful sort, but he felt somewhat heavier.

“You feel that?” he asked his companion.

“Feel what?”

“Nothing…”

Mura shrugged it off as he looked around the shrine, noticing it was quiet aside from a few civilians praying and a lone maiden sweeping up stray leaves littering the stone foundation. Deciding the help was the fastest way to find his mark, he decided to approach the shrine maiden first.

She had dark purple hair tied back behind her shoulders and was dressed traditionally in shrine robes. The girl was no older than sixteen and perked up with a pleasant smile that radiated kindness once she noticed Mura approaching her.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” she asked, looking at him with amber-lit eyes.

“Yes, actually, thank you. I was wondering if a ‘Hangaku Amano’ worked or resided here.”

Her smile widened with girlish happiness as she answered, her melodic voice untainted as the virgin snow.

“Why, of course! That’d be me!”