“I wanted to ask you something,” Zeke murmured, standing in front of Fredric.

“I’m not into men, sorry,” Fredric said, scratching his head with a smirk.

“Not that!” Zeke replied, visibly irritated. “I want… I want you to help me break into District 17.”

“Fuck,” Fredric grunted, shaking his head. “Now I really wish it was the other thing,” he sighed heavily.

“Can you do it?” Zeke pressed.

Fredric’s expression darkened, his tone turning serious. “Do you even know what you’re asking? District 17 is completely cut off from the rest of the Undercity. It’s a place that doesn’t exist in the traditional sense. The only way in is with permission from the Contractor King—then, and only then, does a passage open. But even when you get in, you’ll come face to face with the guardian. A terrifying force of nature, even the King would struggle against. And you… why do you want in so badly?” Fredric’s gaze locked on Zeke, his annoyance mixed with genuine curiosity.

“I want to see the one they call Haze,” Zeke explained, his voice unwavering.

“Haze? That psychopath?” Fredric raised an eyebrow, his disbelief palpable. “And where, exactly, did you get that brilliant idea?”

“Calisto told me I need to learn from a demon. He’s the only demon I’ve ever seen,” Zeke said, gesturing as if it were obvious.

Fredric froze, staring into Zeke’s eyes with a mix of annoyance and reluctant curiosity.

“Alright,” he finally sighed. “I’ll see what I can do,” he added, turning toward the King’s chamber.

“Wait here—and try not to get any more stupid ideas while I’m gone,” Fredric warned over his shoulder.

Zeke settled in the waiting room, watching as the other guardians filed out with their escorts. Nolan had been the first to dash off, clearly with other priorities on his mind. As the room continued to clear, Zeke noticed Amelia, now draped in Ian’s jacket, sneaking glances at him. Every time he looked back, she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be busy.

Zeke waved casually in her direction, causing her to fumble, jittery and embarrassed. She paced nervously for a few moments before rushing over to him.

“Hey, uh… could you tell me,” she stammered, “what am I supposed to do?”

“Well,” Zeke replied with a smirk, “I have no clue.”

“Fuck! Why, of all people, did they pick me to be that bastard’s replacement?” she groaned.

Zeke chuckled, shaking his head. “Why? Because the bastard saw you hiding in the vents and thought it’d be hilarious,” he explained.

Suddenly, Fox appeared behind her, gently grabbing her shoulder. “Out of the way, cosplayer. We’ve got places to be,” he said, pushing her aside and pulling Zeke along.

“What the fuck!” Amelia shouted, her frustration spilling over.

Fredric paid no mind, continuing down the corridor with Zeke in tow.

“Don’t mind him,” Zeke laughed. “Fox is always like that. If you’ve got any real questions, drop by Calisto in District 7. She’ll help you out,” he called back as they slipped out through the gates.

“Making friends now, are we?” Fredric quipped as they descended into the city.

“Jealous?” Zeke teased, his tone playful.

“Yes, terribly so,” Fredric replied with dripping sarcasm. “Please, involve me in your teenage soap opera so I can finally understand the love triangle between you, Antonio, and Hanna. And while you’re at it, maybe explain why the new guardian of District 8 was hiding in the vents with one of your lackeys.”

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“There is no love triangle,” Zeke snapped.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Antonio thinks you’re really hot,” Fredric chuckled.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Zeke rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Fredric said, guiding Zeke into the winding streets of the third district.

“Where are we going?” Zeke asked, his curiosity rekindled.

“To District 17. Where else?” Fredric sighed.

“I know that much,” Zeke raised his voice, clearly annoyed.

“The Contractor King opened a gate in my district. What more do you want to know?” Fredric replied, sighing again.

“And how exactly did you get him to agree to that?” Zeke questioned.

“I told him I needed to talk with Pierrot about a personal matter and that it had to be just me,” Fredric muttered.

“So… you lied?” Zeke asked, his shock exaggerated.

“You’re one to talk, Teenage Pacifist. I’m honestly surprised you’re in such a good mood after watching three people die in front of you,” Fredric said, casting a sidelong glance at him.

“I didn’t kill them,” Zeke replied, lacing his fingers behind his head nonchalantly.

“Ah, of course. My mistake. I didn’t immediately recognize the teenage philosopher in you,” Fredric mocked.

“Shut up! How much further?” Zeke grumbled.

“We’re here,” Fredric said, pausing in front of a large, rusted pipe.

Zeke peered at the entrance, his eyes narrowing. “What is this place?”

“A ruin from the Cataclysm,” Fredric explained. “This area was probably part of a water treatment plant before it sank beneath the ground. For us, it’s an opening—a place that normally leads nowhere but now takes us to District 17.”

They stepped into the damp, echoing pipe, the sound of dripping water filling the silence. Zeke followed Fredric cautiously for what felt like hours, their path dimly lit and slick with moisture. After several hundred meters, they came to a dead end: a rusted elevator door with a wired phone taped to the side.

“Ever seen one of these?” Fredric asked, picking up the phone and dialing.

The phone beeped a few times before a voice crackled through the speaker.

“Yes?”

“It’s me. I’m coming in. Open the doors,” Fredric said before hanging up.

The elevator doors creaked open, revealing a rusty, dilapidated interior.

“In we go,” Fredric motioned toward the lift.

As soon as they stepped inside, the doors groaned shut and the elevator began its slow descent.

“So, how much longer until we reach District 17?” Zeke asked, growing impatient.

“You’ll be pleased to know we’re already in District 17,” Fredric sighed. “Now listen closely—when the doors open, the Warden will be standing there. Don’t engage him. I’ll hold him off while you run to the prison. Once you’re inside, you’ll find the one you’re looking for—Haze. I’ll catch up after I deal with the Warden. Like last time, I’ll reset you and Haze every time I die, about every ten minutes.”

The elevator came to a halt with a jarring clank.

“Soul,” Fredric intoned, summoning a curved golden short sword.

As the metallic doors creaked open, revealing a dimly lit corridor, Zeke’s eyes landed on a figure standing before them. It was a slender, pale silhouette, a slouched mime with unnaturally long arms.

“What is this?” the figure growled, its voice distorted.

“A party,” Fredric quipped, lunging forward and pinning the mime-like figure to the wall, his blade piercing its throat.

Zeke sprinted past them, his heart pounding as flashes of steel and the sound of clashing metal filled the air behind him. He charged headlong into the darkness, the overwhelming stench of rot assaulting his senses. Iron-barred cells lined either side of the narrow corridor, each one filled with decomposing corpses.

It was then that the true nature of District 17 became clear—this was no ordinary prison. It was a place of torture, a nightmarish void where enemies of the Undercity were sent to disappear. A forsaken pit from which there was no escape.

As Zeke pressed forward, the suffocating darkness grew thicker until, suddenly, a soft white light emerged ahead. In the center of the room, a glass cage stood illuminated, and within it, a man with long black hair sat motionless, seemingly meditating. Fleshy, jagged appendages sprouted from the ground around him, twisting grotesquely.

Fredric limped into view, bruised and cut, but still standing. “Ready?” he asked, panting slightly.

Zeke took a deep breath, his eyes locked on the figure inside the cage. “I think so,” he replied, exhaling slowly.

“True-soul,” Fredric whispered, manifesting a glass dagger filled with sand. He pointed it at the cage.

“How do I get inside?” Zeke asked, tensing up.

Fredric smirked. In a blur of motion, he shattered the glass wall into a thousand shards before vanishing into the shadows.

“Come see me when you’re done. That psychopath will know what to do next,” Fredric’s voice echoed from the darkness.

The figure inside the cage opened his eyes, his gaze piercing through Zeke like a knife.

“You’re wearing my mask,” Haze whispered, his voice barely audible.

Zeke jumped down, landing between the writhing tentacles. He ripped the mask from his face, throwing it to the ground.

“What do you want?” Haze asked, his tone low and deliberate.

“Teach me what it means to be a demon,” Zeke said, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

A slight smirk tugged at Haze’s lips as he stared at Zeke, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/ZRNLRGBC/Name-Alias-X-Species-Demon-Age-80-Height-182cm-Affiliation-Knights-Rank-Special-grade-investigator.png]