Truly, there was no place like Hell.

Earth was a lovely place too, of course. Its blue skies and azure waters were soothing to the soul, and there was something about human society that came off as remarkedly quaint. Indeed, the sights, sounds, tastes and smells of the human's home world were exceptional, but nothing could ever beat the feeling of returning home.

From the moment he stepped into the Jump Terminal in the Paris Catacombs, Cobalt Trayer couldn't help but feel excited. Nervous, of course, but giddy nonetheless. It had been so long since he had been in Hell, he had almost forgotten what it was like to meet a fellow demon. Once he paid his fare, it was a quick hop through a blood-red portal, a brief customs check on the other side, and before long, Cobalt found his feet firmly planted on Hellish soil.

The sky above was a beautiful shade of red, marred only by a few wispy clouds that floated lazily by. All around him, the multicoloured denizens of Brimstones went about their business, giving him odd stares as he stood dumbstruck, eyes wide with equal parts amazement and nostalgia.

"It's good to be back..." Cobalt murmured, smiling as he set his suitcases down.

A few feet away, a Jump Terminal attendant cleared his throat and approached him. His skin was yellow, and a pair of short horns poked from beneath a head of blond hair. Twitching his long, elfin ears, he smiled and gestured to the black pendant hanging from Cobalt's neck.

"Sir, your Cloaking Charm...?" he said, cocking his head.

Cobalt's eyes widened.

"O- Oh, thank you! Sorry, sorry, my head was somewhere else there, heh..."

Reaching behind his neck, he unclasped the necklace and lurched as a wave of magical energy washed over him. As the pendant fell away, changes began to occur. His skin shifted from a very human bronze to a deep, iridescent blue, while his hair went from a dull black to an odd shade of navy. From his forehead, a pair of long yellow horns sprouted, while upon his back, a small pair of batlike wings sprouted from two holes he had cut into the back of his shirt. Adjusting his belt, Cobalt allowed a tail to slip from a small flap just above his backside. With a quick check of his pointed spade, he pocketed his Cloaking Charm and gave the attendant a wide grin.

"There! A demon once more!" he laughed, adjusting his tie.

But the attendant did not return his smile. Instead, he simply stared at Cobalt, eyes opened wide and his mouth slightly agape. Swallowing hard, he bid him a brief farewell and stumbled down the steps of the Jump Terminal, his suitcases tucked beneath his arms. Parked on the side of the busy road was a small legion of taxies, and picking one at random, Cobalt piled his luggage into the backseat and climbed inside.

"The Brimstone Institute of Demonics, please," he asked politely, buckling himself in.

The demon in the driver's seat - a rotund man with green skin - adjusted his mirror to get a good view of his passenger. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of him, but simply nodded and started the car.

"Cutting it kind of close, aren't you lad?" he asked, setting off down the street.

Cobalt laughed weakly and scratched the back of his head.

"Ah, y- yes, I suppose I am. I'm afraid I'm not quite as organised as I had previously thought," he sighed, turning his gaze to the window.

"Ah, well, what can you do. I'll try to get you there before school starts, anyway."

Settling down in his seat, Cobalt rested his chin against his palm and watched the buildings whizz by. Brimstone was a strange town; a hodge-podge of different styles and eras splattered all over the southern Aporue coast. Georgian, Victorian, Art-Deco, Greek, Roman; it was all here, crammed together alongside winding streets and twisting thoroughfares. As the taxi snaked its way towards the town's tertiary school, the driver glanced back.

"You from around here, lad?" he asked, turning a corner.

"In a way. From Phrodival originally, but my family's since settled here."

"Phrodival? Where's that?"

"Th- The countryside. It's out of the way, so its not very well-known amongst most people."

"Huh..."

Cresting a hill towards the edge of town, the taxi pulled up outside a great set of wrought-iron gates. Cobalt's heart lurched at the sight of them, but that quick pang of fear was quickly replaced by a buzz of excitement as he paid his fare and tumbled out onto the footpath. As he collected his belongings, the taxi driver wound down his window and gave Cobalt a reassuring smile.

"Anyway, I wish you the best of luck, lad."

"Thank you, sir! I'm sure I'll need it!"

The car wheeled off, leaving him alone at the side of the road. Taking a breath, he looked up at the gates and stepped through.

The Brimstone Institute of Demonics was once one of the most prestigious private schools in all of Hell, and though it no longer held that lofty position, it was still highly recommended. It was a boarding academy consisting of a large central academy, surrounded by a good dozen smaller buildings, though most of them had been closed up. Still, the campus was beautiful, and as Cobalt slowly shuffled his way down the gravel path, he gazed up at the ashbirches and smiled as their pink leaves rustled in the wind. Up ahead, a pair of demons stood surrounded by piles upon piles of suitcases, checking and tagging each one. The smaller demon - a round, green-skinned man with glasses - was checking things off clipboard, while the larger - a muscular, orange-skinned man with a single red horn - stacked and sorted the luggage. Upon hearing Cobalt's footsteps crunch against the gravel, they both glanced up and waved him down. They appeared to be teachers.

"Hey! Just drop all your stuff here, we'll get it sorted" the muscular man stated, stacking a pair of suitcases atop one another.

"Just here?" Cobalt asked, setting his luggage down.

The one with the clipboard smiled and nodded, before checking his watch.

"Yes, don't worry about it. You ought to hurry, though; I'm afraid you're late."

His heart damn near skipped a beat.

"Wh- What?! How late?! What did I miss?!"

The teacher stumbled back and held his clipboard to his chest, shocked by his outburst.

"Um, not much, don't worry. The opening assembly and general orientation is over, but homeroom has only just started," he replied, opening his hands to calm him down.

Diving a hand into his pocket, Cobalt pulled out a neatly folded timetable and quickly scanned it over.

"Second year! Class F! Do you know where they are?!" he asked frantically.

The larger teacher whipped his head around and hissed through his teeth, exchanging worried glances with his colleague.

"2-F? Ah, that would be Whitaker's old class... Bad lot, them..."

"Ethan!" chided the green demon, before he turned and smiled at Cobalt.

He pointed at the main school building's front entrance.

"Head up to the Language corridor on the second floor. Class F should be in the last room on the right," he stated kindly.

Snatching his satchel, Cobalt quickly thanked the pair before dashing off towards the school's entrance. It wouldn't do for him to be late on his first day.

-----

Cobalt gasped for breath as jogged down the Language corridor, passing doors, noticeboards and lockers. True to the teacher's word, he could hear the murmuring of students attending homeroom beyond the walls of the hallway, and as he stopped outside the last door on the right, he was dismayed to hear all manner of shouts and yells coming from within. They certainly sounded rowdy enough...

Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and straightened his tie. No, it would not do to fall prey to his nerves, especially not now. Standing up straight, Cobalt turned the door handle and stepped into the chaos of the classroom.

It was a dismaying sight. Students of all stripes lounged within the room, each dressed in a navy B.I.D. uniform. Some sat on the desks chatting over their phones, while others were tearing pages out of their textbooks and tossing balls of paper at each other.

Well, in terms of silver linings, it seemed to be a fairly diverse class. He could see an Oni brooding at the back of the room, glaring daggers at a Nymph as she preened for the gaggle of girls orbiting around her. Further up, a Glutton was sneaking bites from a sandwich hidden under the desk, and a Golem had decided that the floor would be a good place to take a nap. An Imp was flicking erasers at a Fallen, while up at the head of the classroom, a single Succubus sat in her chair, calmly writing in a small notebook.

"Hey, man."

While he was standing awestruck, a bespectacled Imp had sidled up to Cobalt and jabbed him with his elbow. Like all of his kind, he was short, with red skin and massive yellow horns that jabbed upwards from just above his ears.

"Oh, hello, I didn't see you there," he stammered, struggling to retain his composure.

The Imp grinned and offered his hand.

"Name's Arnn Srenth, remember it. Kind of a big deal around here."

Someone across the room snorted at his words.

"You fucking wish, shortass!" barked a voice, causing Arnn to grit his teeth and put an arm around Cobalt's shoulder.

"Tell you what, how about you and I stick together? As you know, Imps get on famously with, uh... um..." he trailed off, gesturing to Cobalt's horns and wings.

With a strained smile, he made a few noncommittal murmurs and slipped out of Arnn's grasp. Clearing his throat as best he could, he hugged his satchel to his chest and slowly picked his way up through the centre of the room, taking care not to step on the slumbering Golem on the floor. As he passed by the purple-skinned Succubus up front, her gaze suddenly snapped away from her notebook and locked onto Cobalt.

She was staring right at him.

"Um... hi there." he murmured, quickly shuffling along before she could answer.

Stepping up to the desk at the front of the classroom, he placed his satchel down and turned to the class. He asked them to settle down, but his quiet voice was simply whipped away by the tumultuous clamour of the second years. A little louder, he tried once more, but again, nothing. With no other option, Cobalt swallowed hard and murmured something beneath his breath.

"Ocov et... Amra ilobaid..."

Slowly, wisps of shadowy essence began to pour from Cobalt's hand, spiraling around and around each other as they gradually formed into the shape of a handle. Gripping it tight, he pulled, drawing a lengthy whip from the umbral nothingness. With his Leather Whip fully formed in his hand, he whirled it around his head before lashing it forth with a deafening crack.

At once, the noise died down to a bearable murmur as the class all turned their respective gazes towards the head of the room, where he stood nervously reeling the whip back in. Dispelling the weapon, Cobalt cleared his throat and planted both hands on the desk.

"Do I have your attention now?" he asked, smiling nervously.

A brash voice thundered from the back of the class.

"And who the fuck are you supposed to be?!"

"I- I was just about to make introductions, actually. It's just that you were all being so loud, and I ne-"

He was cut off by the horrid sound of metal chair legs screeching across the floor. A tall individual barged their way to the front of the room, recklessly knocking their classmates aside with swings of their mighty arms. Once stood clearly in view, Cobalt shrank away, staggered by who stood before him.

She was an Oni, so it was expected for her to be tall and muscular. But there was something about this girl that terrified Cobalt. The rocky red horn in the centre of her forehead glinted in the light, and her eyes blazed with anger and defiance. She had torn the sleeves off both her blazer and her shirt, exposing her impressive biceps as she folded her arms in front of her chest. Even stood still as she was, she seemed to just radiate power.

"And what makes you think you can just go bossin' us around as you fuckin' please, huh?!" she growled, baring her sharp teeth.

There was something about her accent that only shredded Cobalt's nerves further. She sounded like a mafioso from one of the novels he was reading.

"W- Well, you see... um... I- I'm actually...!" he stammered, unable to string his words together.

The Oni took a step forward, her thunderous stomp echoing off the stone walls.

"You fuckin' with me, you dumbass?! You really tryna piss me off, huh?!" she roared, eyes ablaze.

"W- Wait, please calm down...!"

"DON'T FUCKIN' TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

Tossing the desk aside like it weighed little more than a feather, the Oni swiftly grabbed Cobalt by the throat and lifted him up into the air. Clicking her tongue and spitting a few invocative syllables, her free hand suddenly burst into flames. The class watched on in awe as she balled her fist and slowly wound it back, ready to break Cobalt's nose. Even some of the other Oni looked frightened.

"First day on campus, huh? And you think you can make a fuckin' name for yourself by bein' some funny fucker, huh?! I'll fuckin' show you how it's done, you piece of shit...!"

"Enough, Izzbelle!"

Another whip-crack resounded throughout the room, but this one didn't come from Cobalt. The Succubus had planted her foot up on her desk, her Leather Whip gripped tight in both hands, having wrapped it around Izzbelle's forearm. The weapon was stretched taut, taking all of her strength to keep her flaming knuckles from shattering Cobalt's skull.

The Oni's gaze glanced from the Succubus to the man she was holding aloft by the throat.

"'Course you'd butt in, Karazelle. You sex fiends are all the fuckin' same," spat the Oni, hurling him to the ground.

As she marched back to her seat, the class whispered to one another, eyes locked on the man sputtering on the floor. He could feel their gazes burning into the back of his neck; not something he was unused to, but something he wished he didn't have to feel all the same. Clearing his throat, he stumbled to his feet and coughed painfully.

He may as well clear the air.

"L- Let me make one thing clear..." he gasped, hands planted on his knees.

The Succubus - Karazelle - was shooting him apologetic glances, but the rest of the class simply eyed him up suspiciously.

Straightening himself up, Cobalt clasped his hands behind his back and took a deep breath.

"Yes, I am a demon of Lust. Yes, I am a man. And yes, that makes me... an Incubus." he sighed, cheeks flushing red despite himself.

Their murmuring only got louder as he turned to the blackboard and began to write his name upon the board.

"My name is Cobalt Trayer, and I shall be replacing Mr. Whitaker in teaching Language, Science and History, as well as being your homeroom teacher. I'm sorry I'm so late, but it's good to finally meet you all."

Scoring a line underneath it, he set the chalk down and turned back to the class with his best smile.

"Any, um... Any questions?" he asked gingerly.

They all exploded at once with equal parts rage, confusion and sheer bewilderment.

"- thought all Lust demons were Succubi, how are you a-?!"

"- but you're the same age as us, how the fu-?!"

"- nce when did they allow people to teach at tha- ?!"

A series of short, sharp claps echoed from the back, silencing the cacophonous clamour of the students. Craning his neck, he could just about spot a Nymph lounging on her desk, her ring-laden hands clasped together. The gems contrasted sharply with her yellow skin, and as Cobalt watched her get to her feet, he saw that her pointed ears were almost weighted down with glittering earrings. A few feet away, Cobalt heard Karazelle cluck her tongue.

"Ugh, Butterskin..." she muttered, scribbling in her notebook.

The Nymph wasn't wearing her uniform correctly either, having tied her shirt in order to expose her midriff. As she strode up to the front of the classroom, the clacking of her footsteps alerted him to the expensive-looking high heels she wore.

"Let the man speak, everyone." she stated, causing her little group to giggle down the back.

"Thank you, miss...?"

She offered her hand.

"Brode. Whitney Brode. I trust you've heard of my father?"

"I'm afraid I haven't, no" he replied, awkwardly shaking her hand.

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she laughed in an almost rehearse manner.

"Oh sir, have you been living under a rock?" giggled the Nymph.

Cobalt shuffled about uncomfortably.

"... Oxford, actually..."

"My father is none other Charlie Brode, one of the primary financiers of this school, as well as the owner of the Brode Modelling Agency," she stated proudly, planting a hand on her chest.

A moment of silence passed before Cobalt cleared his throat, thanked her, and moved back over to the blackboard.

"A quick biology lesson, then, before your classes start," he announced, scribbling away with a stump of chalk.

He drew three simple figures; a child, an adolescent and an adult, before drawing a series of arrows and numbers between them.

"Demons have three stages of growth, yes? A year spent as newborn, before they shoot up to looking as though they're seven. That's the first stage. Then they hit fifteen, whereupon they progress to the second stage, whereupon they look as though they're eighteen. Finally, upon reaching the age of twenty-one, a demon will reach the third and final stage of growth, whereupon they appear to be in their mid-twenties. Once in the third stage, a demon shall remain looking twenty-ish until their biological death. Does everybody understand?" he explained, glancing back.

They looked confused, but they were nodding regardless. Drawing a circle around the central figure, Cobalt wrote the words "Everlast Syndrome" above it in block capitals.

"Now, Everlast Syndrome is a condition that affects one in two million demons. I could go into it, but considering time constraints, I'll put it plainly. Those with Everlast are stuck in one of the earlier stages. Like me. I have Everlast."

Karazelle slowly raised her hand. He gave her an affirmative nod.

"So... how old are you...?" she asked curiously, smiling as she chewed the end of her pencil.

"I, um... I'm twenty-two."

"Only three years older than us then, huh?"

He coughed nervously.

"Y- Yes, well, I don't see why that matters..."

Before another word could be spoken, the school bell suddenly thundered through the intercom. The students - Cobalt's students, he now realised - scrambled out their seats, grabbing their bags and taking off without so much as a by-your-leave. Karazelle lingered in the doorway and winked, before flicking her tail and stepping out.

With a deep sigh, the Incubus looked over at the shattered teacher's desk, before turning his gaze down at the floor, where the Golem from earlier was still sleeping.

"Um, hello? Class has started, miss." he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder.

Snorting herself awake, the brown-skinned demon adjusted her glasses and yawned. Eyebrows raised, she gave Cobalt a confused look.

"Who're you?" asked the Golem in a dopey voice.

She didn't give him a chance to answer, as she pulled herself to her feet and lumbered out the door, dragging her Hello Kitty schoolbag behind her. Taking a deep breath, Cobalt collapsed back onto the teacher's chair.

That... could have gone better. And judging by his packed timetable, his first day at B.I.D. wasn't going to get any easier.

At that moment, the Incubus teacher was struck with a horrid realisation.

"I forgot to take rollcall..."