“Sora ga umi wo idaku mitai ni.

  Aishi aeta kiseki wo.

  Mou ichido dake, mou ichido dake.

  Maboroshi de ii.”

  Bay City—Junko Yagami

  “I need something to smoke… You got anything?”

  “Don’t you have a pack of cigarettes?”

  “Those are for special occasions.”

  “Why are you like this?”

  “Brain trauma.”

  Miyamoto patted down his kimono, pulling out a short green cigar.

  “Where do you keep all this stuff without pockets?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  I wiped down the cigar, not lighting it yet.

  “Violet, I need you to tell me everything you remember.”

  “Well, uh, after you told us to leave the battlefield, we drove to the next town.”

  “Did you see anything odd while coming? And where’s the dog—the one that carries you?”

  “We… we left Bear behind.”

  “Good…good.”

  I did not know that dog had a name.

  “No…no. Nothing seemed odd on the ride over here.”

  “What about when you got to this city?”

  “When we made it here, there was a group of shaded men, maybe six.”

  She was on the verge of crying, but I needed a little bit more.

  “Last question. Were they talking about anything odd, or was there anything that looked odd?”

  “They… they were talking about, about blood.”

  “Thank you, kid.”

  Miyamoto and I huddle together.

  “Miyamoto, can you comfort the kid?”

  “Why me? She likes you more.”

  “I don’t know how to comfort people.”

  “Tell her everything is going to be all right.”

  “Fine.”

  I knelt to her level, told her it was going to be fine, and patted her back while she cried into my coat. It's been drenched in much worse. Miyamoto turned around, the bastard.

  After ten minutes, Violet was able to calm herself. The three of us left the alleyway, and we decided to get breakfast.

  “Where did you find this cigar?”

  “Don’t know, found it on one of these journeys.”

  “You know this could have been poisoned.”

  He shrugged.

  “Whatever, Miyamoto, do you know anything about this blood shit?”

  “What we call magic comes from our blood.”

  “...Fucking what!?”

  “Yeah, I’m not well-read on this topic, but some believe there’s something in blood that gives us the power to do this so called magic.”

  “Huh... But who talks about blood for no reason?”

  “They say that some people's blood is more potent than others. People believe the potency is based on the luck of the draw; others say it’s a blessing from the gods.”

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  “But why are they talking about blood?”

  “There’s a myth that if you mix your blood with someone who has more potent blood than you, your magic will become more potent either by drinking it or putting it straight into the bloodstream.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t well-read.”

  “I guess I knew more than I thought. That old bastard was always rambling on about it.”

  “Who?”

  “No one important. Just remembering some old bastard from the past.”

  “How far is this breakfast place?”

  “We’re here, V. We've been standing right outside of it.”

  “Oh. Well, let's go in.”

  The green cigar lit a flame through my mind, with each puff leading to another clue clicking into place.

  It may seem odd to get food when one of us is missing, but killing ourselves won’t help anyone. Right now, I need hope to gain information.

  Miyamoto and I ordered a coffee, and I ordered the kid's pancakes.

  I hate black coffee; it's like a dropkick to the tongue. I would seem like the type to like the bitterness, but everyone likes a bit of sweet sometimes.

  A few cars stopped out front, with twelve men walking out of them all at once.

  I took a sip of my coffee when I saw all of them pull something out.

  Bang!

  Bang!

  Bang!

  “Did someone start playing 'Sweet Caroline'—or are we getting shot at?”

  The cafe window then FUCKING IMPLODED!

  The living became corpses, and the walls were splayed with red.

  Fortunate Son started blasting in my mind; it was like Viet fucking Nam.

  Miyamoto yelled, “WHAT?!”

  “Nothing! Get down and grab the kid.”

  Miyamoto grabbed the kid and got to the floor while I started to fire back with one of my guns.

  “V! What's the plan?!” Miyamoto yelled at me.

  I threw him two pairs of earplugs.

  “Yours and the kid’s—put them in. And get your ass over here!”

  Miyamoto bolted like a madman across the 50s-style diner, slamming against the wall.

  “We need a plan.”

  “I can’t think with all this goddamn noise.”

  There were about a dozen men outside.

  In front of two different cars.

  Miyamoto was on the other side of the window, and Violet was shaking on the floor.

  Recognized the sound—damn Uzis.

  We'd be Swiss cheese if we weren’t careful.

  If Miyamoto can melt these bullets, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.

  One of the men yelled over the sound of bullets, “The Keyser sends his regards and thanks for giving us Celeste.”

  I now know the name of the rat who took Celeste.

  Keyser.

  I’ll have your head.

  “Can you mix your fire and wind magic?”

  “Yeah!”

  He released his blade from its sheath, flames combusted from his blade, and wind surrounded the flames.

  “Okay, so you’re going to send out a mix of fire at its high temperature, and if that doesn’t work, fire wind at the highest speed. Killing everyone but one.”

  “All right!”

  Miyamoto's flames melted the bullets, and hurricane-like winds disabled all bullets.

  “Let’s jam.”

  I started unloading both guns until Miyamoto yelled at me.

  “Put away the left gun, you loon!”

  “Why?”

  “...You’re missing your left goddamn eye! Are you trying to kill me with a stray?!”

  He's right.

  My right eye may have been the dominant one, but my aim was all fucked up.

  “Fine!”

  Miyamoto cut five men in half, leaving seven armed men. Four out of seven bullets hit their target; it would have been seven out of seven if I had both goddamn eyes.

  I decided to pull my Bowie knife to make it easier to hit my targets.

  I cut one of their throats.

  Miyamoto decapitated another.

  The last man was fumbling over himself, trying to reload.

  Every step we grew closer

  He fired one round at me, but I moved my head, and it missed.

  I pulled the crowbar free from my long coat. The long, rusted, twisted piece of steel felt natural in my hands. The crowbar was made to crack open boxes, and that's what I was going to do. Time to put the Devil’s name—and this crowbar—to war.

  As I grabbed the bastard, he whispered into my ear.

  “Keyser expected.”

  He bit down, causing white foam to appear out of his mouth.

  “GODDAMN!”

  Rain started to pour. Was it to wash away the sins of the morning, or maybe it was washing away the evidence? Once more the gods were fucking me in the ass.

  “Goddamn.” I dropped to my knees, like so many times before.

  The words rang throughout the city.

  With rain being the only sound that overlapped my words.

  As the man's body dropped dead to the floor somewhere else, a fluorescent light came alive with a humming ringing throughout a room. Celeste lay upon a grim-looking gurney.

  She awoke with a bulb flickering, painting the room with a faint light. The gurney she was strapped to was next to an IV, taking her blood.

  The room smelled of mold.

  She was covered in cold sweat while the room spun.

  The room looks like an old classroom, small enough to fit only Celeste and the few pieces of equipment in the room.

  “The prodigal daughter awakening.” A voice rang throughout the room, but Celeste couldn’t tell whether the person was in the room or not.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, don’t play coy with me. You were at the top of your class at Tsukikage Koutougakkou. The school for the divine—and you were able to stand above them all.”

  “You’ve got the wrong person,” Celeste said while quivering against the freezing metal gurney. “I could barely make a fireball half a year ago.”

  “That could have come from a traumatic encounter with death,” he replied. “Your mind blocked out all your training, but you're starting to feel it all come back, aren't you?”

  Celeste focused on herself, trying to pull some magic out, but only a flicker appeared. Her chest tightened, and she drew shallow breaths. The room was closing, and she felt true fear. Her blood in the IV bag began to radiate a dark blue. The smell of power that the blood emitted overwhelmed the reek of the mold.

  “What did you do to my power?”

  “Nothing, really. It’s all about the blood. The amount I took from you may affect your being. Your blood is rather blessed.”

  “I’m cursed, not blessed.” Flashes of her parents being butchered in front of her and running from the monster that almost took her and her friends' lives flooded her mind. The gods have only damned me, nothing more.

  “Curses can be blessings for others; it's all about perspective.”

  A door creaked open.

  Soft footsteps echoed across the room.

  A figure dressed in the shadows appeared.

  Celeste couldn’t get a clear look at her captor, but there was an outline of him. He was tall and slender and hunched over like another man she knows.

  “Did you know the first person to mix blood went by the name Kuro Mahoutsukai? A Devil of a Man who tested on being both living and dead. He was a genius, but he was a butcher as well. Now he only talked about it in harsh tones.”

  “Why tell me such things?”

  “To show how there are devils in this world.”

  “Who are you?”

  "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. Well, he exists, and he.”

  “I know he exists, but he is not you.”

  “And why that?”

  “Because I know a much better one.” This person knows nothing about who the Devil really is. V understands the character, and he plays the role like a demon.

  A hideous hissing echoed through the room. Celeste wondered if she had died and was sent straight to hell due to how insane this being was acting. She was becoming more loopy.

  “The blood loss must be kicking in. I’m going to get some blood so you don’t kick it yet.”

  As her eyes started to droop, the dripping of the blood from the IV became farther away, and her last thought before she fell into slumber was trying find a way out.