The moonlight sparkled over the glass before the clouds moved in to cover the sky in an impenetrable veil. Belaphorde leaned on the wall in an attempt to lessen the weight on his cold feet. He should have gone dressed in more than boxers. It was a detail that was lost in his restless need to progress. It was the real reason he had gotten up and now watched anxiously as the number three lit up on the elevator pad.

The doors slid open into darkness. A turbulent draft ran across Belaphorde’s skin. He was in an open room and guessed there had to be a door leading further in on the far wall. Staggering forward he felt around for a light switch that was not there. He could make out silhouettes by the broken windows. A set of white sofas. A coffee table. A chandelier was hanging at a tilt in the ceiling, threatening to break from its chain.

He went down on all fours and crawled. Belaphorde felt his way through dried puddles of wine and fizzy drinks that left his hands sticky. It smelled horrid of sweet drinks, and he was sure there must be some food rotting out of sight.

A faint light flashed in the corner of Bel’s vision. The wall was filled with lines and needle-sized holes that became more clear as something lit up from the other room.

As he reached the door he could hear faint gurgling and tapping. He stretched out his hand and felt around for the handle. Gently he pulled and peeked through the opening. The light was blinding; he had to squint through his fingers.

Kaigo was on the floor, his upper body caked in thick ichor. A pool had formed in front of his face and in the middle of that pool was a bead of haunting white light. Behind Kaigo was his glaive. The white crystal glowed like it was charging with magic.

Bel opened the door and crept forward to take a closer look.

Knives pounced out of the darkness and the Guide raised his arms to protect his face and rolled. The creature flew out the door frame. Belaphorde crawled over the Esper and scrambled for the lucent glaive. Scuttling taps rushed towards him. He swung with all his strength and hit the creature like a batter would a baseball. The crystal monster shattered as it hit the wall. Its body dissolved into dust as the marble core rolled over the floor and under the bed.

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Belaphorde's heart was pounding. What was a crystal beast doing here? Then he looked at the light in the pool of ichor. He could not make sense of it. What he did understand is that he needed to remove the ichor.

The room was a complete mess. Every single piece of furniture had been wrecked. Stuffing from the bed covered the spray-painted artistic floor. The door to the on-suite was beaten into splinters. Potted plants were decomposing on the floor.

Once he had collected himself Belaphorde stumbled on shaking legs to collect all the towels he could find and began the task of wiping the worst of the ichor from the Esper.

Kaigo looked so pitiful. His breath was caught on the clay filling his lungs, throat, and mouth. His eyes were buried beneath the sludge. The silky pajamas were hanging on his body in taters. Dried blood caked the inside of his pants which was perplexing to the Guide. His usual rich sun-kissed skin had a sick yellow hue but otherwise, he didn't seem in as bad a shape as could be expected of someone left in the dark for days without food or water.

“Excuse me, I'll be moving you and cleaning you up. I hope you don't mind, sir.”

Kaigo had no way to reciprocate but it felt less awkward for Belaphorde to offer some basic dignity to the Esper.

Bel dragged the smaller man away from the puddle and placed him into a safety position, or “don't let the drunk uncle die” position, as he had been taught. Kaigo was a bit heavier than expected with his high density of muscles and bile. Gently Belaphorde dabbed the towel on Kaigo's face. When the ichor did not absorb into the fabric he instead scraped it off into puddles and put them on the already ruined white fur carpet. When he touched the skin on Kaigo's cheek the Esper writhed and let out a blast of steam. Bel was quick enough to protect his face as his forearms turned red on impact. It stung. The burning sensation was unpleasant but bearable. No lasting damage was done.

The light in the room faded as the pool of ichor flooded out and split into smaller blobs. The ichor was slightly warm through the cloth. He could see his own wild and unworthy reflection on the smooth surface of the liquid magic. This stuff was the price of power. Espers could sense its suffocating evil aura and turn sick from being near it. Belaphorde touched it with his fingertips. It didn't smell. The texture was smooth and jelly-like.

He turned to the Esper and reached out for Kaigo's hand. Belaphorde's lungs contracted. The taste of ash filled his senses. He attempted to Guide without any capacity. The world swam before his eyes. He felt sick with the memories of what he had done, of what he was incapable of. The flames blazed in his mind. Belaphorde tried to move away. He thought he could hear voices and the room turned painfully bright before he passed out into the dark. Then the nightmares had laid their claim.