And just like that, the tenuous peace was shattered like glass.

In the wake of the Devil attack, Brimstone seemed to flip completely on its head. Some demons took to panicking, believing that Hell was finally facing retribution at the hands of its old masters, and that the Book of Aneop was right all along; their inherent sin had finally boiled over, and the Devils were proof of some infernal punishment. Others were emboldened by the so-called higher demon's defeat, heralding Cobalt Trayer as a fearless Devil slayer with the blood of a hero, and demanding that any Devils in hiding be sought out and made examples of, just to put the final nail in their coffin. In a scant few days, it seemed as though the entire population of the citystate had split into one of those two camps, and it was easy to feel the tension whenever one walked through the streets.

Oddly enough, B.I.D. had somehow managed to retain a sense of normalcy, despite hosting the very man of the hour. Mistress Viola had put her foot down on the issue that while this was surely a horrible event, it was not to upset the school year. Students were discouraged from discussing the attack, and those caught attempting to disrupt classes with talk of the event were harshly punished. Still, that didn't stop some people from spray-painting a mural of Cobalt on the back of the girl's dorms, one that depicted the Incubus triumphantly holding the severed heads of Diate and the most recent Devil in his hands.

The man wanted respect from his students, that much was obvious. But... not like this.

Karazelle didn't know what to do. After a few days recovering in the hospital, Cobalt had finally returned home to the school, only to sequester himself in his room for most of the day. The girls all wanted to see him, but they refrained from encroaching; a smart move, given the stress he was under. Apparently Izzbelle was going to take him out for some self-defense lessons, something she boasted about to anybody willing to listen.

The experience would probably do him some good. As for the Succubus, she had been struck with an idea; a way to help her stressed teacher out in a different, subtler way.

"Hm... Looks clean enough," Karazelle murmured to herself, pulling a beaker out of an old cupboard.

The Science building, though dark, dusty and having laid abandoned for almost two decades, was still chock-full of equipment that the old societies left behind. It didn't take long to find the chemistry supplies that she needed.

"Do I need a graduated cylinder...?" she asked aloud, pulling out her phone.

She quickly checked one of the posts on the online forum that she had been frequenting. It was a fairly niche website, used mainly by Lust demons willing to discuss the finer things of Succubus living; mainly sex, psychology and chemistry. Most threads regarding alchemical experimentation recommended a large array of apparatus to begin with, so she tossed the cylinder into her bag just in case.

Karazelle frowned as she flipped through some of the topics on the forum. Cobalt was a hot topic on the internet as well; his name was a trending tag. A few posts had links to journalist sites detailing the Devil attack, and absolutely none of them had taken any steps in regards to protecting the Incubus' privacy.

Her mother could keep the reporters outside the school gates, but it seemed even the almighty Viola Terna couldn't keep the internet's vultures at bay.

"Poor thing," the Succubus sighed, glancing at an image of Cobalt one of the sites had used.

She still couldn't believe it. He had gone toe-to-toe with a Devil once again. And won, again. What a guy.

"Agh, enough distraction. Get it together, girl!" Karazelle whispered to herself, gently slapping her cheeks.

She smiled upon realising how she inadvertently parroted her teacher's signature mantra. With a giggle, the Succubus hefted her bag onto her shoulder and began to descend to the Science building's lowest floor.

Being the daughter of the Headmistress was no easy feat; in fact, it was downright awful at times. But one perk of the job was that Karazelle had access to all kinds of information that she really shouldn't know, like the passcodes to the staff computers, the combination to the safe containing test scores, or the inventory of items stashed in the school's confiscated goods locker.

And of course, there was the school's underground sections, the ones locked off for decades.

Reaching the basement of the Science building, Karazelle pushed her way past old crates and dusty chairs, grimacing as she walked into a spider's web.

"C'mon, where is it...?" she muttered, switching on her phone's light.

It took some searching, but eventually she found it; an inconspicuous section of wall covered in old wooden boards. Grinning, she slipped a strap of her back off her shoulder and pulled out a crowbar. Despite its small size, it was quite heavy, and Quinn insisted it would do the job. Karazelle reasoned that it better, otherwise she was going to get her fifty brands back by force.

The Brimstone Institute of Demonics wasn't always a school. Back when it was first built, it was intended to be a proving grounds of sorts for new and powerful magics. Some rumours held that the very first Cloaking Charm prototypes were developed there, while other purported that it was the birthplace of the modern incantive dialect of Tongues used by demons to this day. Karazelle didn't know what was true and what was false, but what she did know was that the floor plans she sneaked a peek at were much, much bigger. All the structures on the campus were connected by subterranean passageways, and additional chambers were dug out to accommodate more esoteric experiments that required privacy.

"Perfect for a few experiments of my own...!" she tittered, ripping off the last wooden board.

If Viola knew what she was doing, she'd be furious. Or at least Karazelle hoped she would be. Honestly, if she could get anything more than a raised eyebrow, a dismissive scoff or a prolonged sigh out of her mother, then she'd consider it a win.

When the last board clattered tot he floor, she lifted her bag onto her back and pointed her phone's flashlight into the newly-uncovered doorway. Stark stone steps led downwards into inky blackness.

She froze for a second. It looked cold and terrifying down there.

But Karazelle couldn't risk her work being uncovered or disturbed, not when she was doing this for Cobalt's sake.

"Once again into the breach, or however that goes," she mused, misremembering the Language passages she had been studying just a few hours ago.

As she descended deeper into the bowels of the building, Karazelle couldn't help but shiver. The walls were cut straight from the stone, and the floor was covered in a thick layer of dust. Old, burnt-out sconces lined the walls, and as she ventured deeper into the underground network of tunnels, she felt an acute sense of paranoia. She placed sticky notes on the corridors she took and doors she passed through, just in case she got lost. The idea of getting stuck down here was not an appealing one.

After some searching, she eventually found what she was looking for; a large metal door labelled "Aimehcla Muirotarobal."

"Perfect!" whispered the Succubus, shoving the old door open.

Within lay the remnants of what was once a sophisticated alchemy workshop, now left to ruin. Shelves filled with murky glass bottles lined the walls, and chemical workstations were placed at regular intervals throughout the chamber, many still bearing old burns and slagmarks. A few ingredient cabinets sat over by the far wall, but whatever herbs and plants they once held had long since crumbled to dust. A little disappointed that there wasn't more to the place, Karazelle cracked her knuckles, took her bag off her back and got to work.

Cleaning the dust took the longest; the countless decades - possibly even centuries - of disuse hadn't been kind to the old lab, forcing her to get down on her hands and knees in order to wipe the worst of the dirt away. It didn't help that she only had her phone flashlight to see by.

"Must see Quinn about getting a generator and few bulbs down here..." she muttered to herself, dreading the idea of how much such a favour would cost.

With the room mostly cleaned, she began to unload her chemistry equipment, setting it all up on one of the workstations at the far end of the room. The B.I.D. underground lacked a gas system, so she was forced to substitute a Bunsen burner for a simple camping stove, but aside from that, she had everything she needed. The trickiest part was the ingredients. She had no set recipe to work off of, so Karazelle just brought along whatever she had to hand; a bottle of honey, various crushed herbs she bought from a street vendor, a few bottles of water, a single clove of Fesser's Passion, a bag of sugar, a bottle of rose milk, some rose petals...

... and the bottle of Red Rose Extract that Jezebel Trayer had entrusted her with a year ago.

"Sorry Mrs. Trayer. Didn't mean to screw it up so bad," Karazelle sighed, leaning against the workstation as she gazed at the little pink vial.

It was empty, save for a few dried dregs lingering at the bottom. In retrospect, perhaps she had been a little too eager to use it, back during the Summer Festival. Such a concentrated dose was bound to have side effects.

Still, it was kind of funny when Whitney vomited all over Cobalt's carpet.

Opening her phone, she flicked back through the forums. Karazelle had posted a few queries about Red Rose Extract, but all the replies she received were the same. It was some sort of miracle aphrodisiac produced solely in the Succubus town of Phrodival, and the recipe was a closely-guarded secret. Not only did it heighten the imbiber's arousal and bring their fantasies to life before their very eyes, it was also reported to have massively beneficial effects on the psyche. Apparently it completely eradicated stress and fatigue, with some people even claiming it to be a cure for depression.

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It sounded far-fetched, but...

Karazelle wasn't blind. She could see change in Cobalt's eyes, and how he was behaving on their little dinner date only confirmed it with her. What happened with Diate was still weighing heavily on him. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink since, and his mood had begun to shift erratically.

Sure, the Red Rose Extract's primary effects would be a welcome boon, but what Karazelle wanted was its secondary effects.

More than she wanted to have her way with Cobalt, she wanted him to be okay. She wanted him to smile again, the same way he first met her as an unsure, fresh-faced teacher.

"Alright, sugar..." the Succubus sighed, switching on the gas stove.

She put a flask of water on to boil, watching as the steam escaped through a ventilation hole carved into the ceiling.

"... let's make some liquid happiness, alright?"

-----

So maybe it wasn't quite that simple.

In the ensuing two hours, Karazelle had made an absolute mess of her newfound hideout-slash-laboratory. Melted sugar and honey was spilled all over the work table. A few scorched herb leaves were scattered about the floor, and the air stank of burnt milk and acrid smoke. Wiping her watering eyes, she cursed herself for forgetting to bring goggles and peered into her last surviving beaker. The others were filled with useless black tar, save one, which exploded when she cranked the heat up too high.

Her latest attempt was the most promising, but not by much. Languishing at the bottom of the beaker was a thick mauve slurry that bubbled in an uncomfortable manner. An experimental sniff revealed that while it had a scent similar to the sweet fragrance that most Succubi aphrodisiacs had, it was much, much, much too strong, and sent the Succubus into a fit of coughing and spluttering.

"Agh... Gotta dilute it..." she rasped, gingerly plucking the hot glass vessel off the stove.

She had one bottle of water that she hadn't opened yet, so she carefully tipped her concoction into it and gave it a stir with a glass rod, watching as the two fluids slowly mixed, dying the water a faint pink. Frowning, she smelled it again. Still sweet, but much fainter this time.

"Hm..."

She took a careful sip. It tasted just like water, barring a slight aftertaste. But after a moment, she felt her cheeks beginning to burn, bringing a smile to Karazelle's face.

"Success...!" she tittered, lunging for her phone.

While it was no Red Rose Extract, it was a good start. Noting every step she toke down in her notes app, she checked her phone's battery to find that it was critically low.

"Oh shit!"

She did not want to get stuck down here without a source of light.

Hastily cramming everything back into her bag, the Succubus tucked the bottle of diluted solution under her arm and bolted out of the old lab, deigning to return at a later date. She followed the trail of sticky notes back to the Science building basement, her grin growing wider as she ascended the stairs.

She couldn't help but feel excited; this was like living out a childhood dream. Karazelle had always admired the Fesserites. She had dreams of visiting Phrodival and learning about the old ways from those who still practiced them. They were masters of their arts, and the fact that they were so secretive only added to their allure. It was one of the reasons why Jezebel Trayer was her favourite actress; not just because of her astoundingly emotional performances, but because of her legendary skill with an alembic. Even Cobalt - a man who only spent a few years living in Phrodival - was possessed of magical knowledge and aptitude that most demons couldn't achieve even with years of practice.

Like that spell he used on her on Valentine's Day. What was it called again...?

Caught up in her thoughts, the Succubus' foot caught on the final step, causing her to trip and fall. Her bag slipped open, and a cavalcade of glassware clattered out onto the ground. Thankfully nothing broke, but damn was it loud!

"Ow..." she murmured, rubbing the spot where she bumped her forehead.

It was probably best not to get too excited. She had to keep her head on straight. As always.

She hoped her solution would at least alleviate some of Cobalt's stress. This newest Devil attack... even though he won, even though he saved lives yet again, she knew that he would still be beating himself up over it. It was just in his nature. The man didn't realise that he was a hero. Whether it was a matter of too much empathy or too little self-love, she just hoped she could help him, even if it was only a little bit.

As she picked the scorched glassware up off the floor, she felt a cold prickling sensation on the back of her neck, like she was being watched.

A familiar sensation, come to think of it.

Swallowing hard, she carefully raised her hands.

"... Elya?" she called into the gloom of the basement.

A gust of wind blustered by her as the Fallen emerged from the shadows, knife in hand. For some odd reason, there was a pigeon perched upon her head, but by now Karazelle had long since stopped questioning anything Elya ever did.

"The queen of harlots," she hissed in her iconic monotone, her acidic purple eyes burning into the Succubus.

"Nice to see you again. How are things?"

"Do not try to parley with me. What are you doing here?"

Karazelle raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you care? Cobalt's nowhere near here. I thought he was your number one concern," she asked, never missing an opportunity to poke holes in Elya's logic.

"Do not try to sway me, deceiver!"

The others were terrified or at least made an active effort to avoid the Fallen, but Karazelle just simply didn't feel that way. Whenever she saw Elya she saw a woman struggling with something big. She didn't know what that thing was, but whatever it was, everything seemed to stem from it; her erratic behavior, her obsessive tendencies, and even some of the lesser issues that no-one else seemed to pick up on.

For one thing...

"Elya?" she asked as the nurse raised her dagger.

"What?" came the narrow-eyed reply.

"Are you eating alright?"

The Fallen flinched, visibly startled by the sudden question.

"What...?"

Karazelle pointed to her open coat. Her ribs were visible.

"You're all skin and bones, Elya. What's wrong?"

"That... That's no concern of yours!"

She surged forward, wings spread wide as she grabbed the Succubus with a cold, bony hand. Despite the threatening gesture, the Succubus kept her cool. Elya wasn't going to hurt her, she knew that by now. Deep down, something within the Fallen kept her from committing the atrocious acts she constantly threatened to carry out.

"But I am concerned," she said, looking dead into her eyes.

Something odd happened as she said that. The Fallen's irises flickered, just for a moment.

"Your honeyed words will not-!"

"When was the last time you slept a full eight hours, Elya?"

"You-!"

"When did you last wash your clothes?"

"I-!"

"When did you last just take a moment for yourself?"

"ENOUGH!"

Shoving the Succubus away, Elya skittered back into the corner of the basement, the pigeon upon her head fluttering about with alarm at the sudden movement. She was shaking all over.

"Stop asking those questions!" she spat, teeth bared.

Karazelle didn't back down. This was her in. The chink in the Fallen's defenses.

"Listen, Elya. You were with us to the bitter end last year. Now I don't know what the others think, and I'm not about to start speaking for them, but in my book that makes you one of us. I'm worried about you," she said in a quiet and calm voice.

She pointed her dagger at her, but her grip was weak and uncertain. How long had Elya been living like this? Half-starved and unclothed, manically obsessing over one person while neglecting her own needs?

"D- Don't. Enough. End this now," she hissed, but there was a pleading tone in her voice.

"I want to help you, Elya. Weird as it sounds to say, I do consider you a friend. And I'm not about to leave a friend hanging."

"I DON'T NEED FRIENDS, YOU DAMNED-!"

The Fallen completely froze up. The knife slipped from her grasp and she fell to her knees as deep gasps racked her body. Karazelle tried to rush to her side, but she bristled up her wings, forcing the Succubus back.

"... you sound like him..." Elya said after a few moments, staring hard at the floor.

Her voice... it was completely different. Quiet and uncertain. Barely more than a whisper at points.

Unnerved but resolute, Karazelle just knelt down on the floor next to her. She didn't know what the Hell was happening, but she seemed to be getting somewhere. It was best to just be supportive.

"... he's different, you know? C- Cobalt, I mean..."

"How so?" the Succubus asked gently.

"... he shone brighter. Eyes alight. He... protected me. Time and time again. I- I owe my life to him..."

"Elya, Cobalt has always been-"

"Something changed him."

Karazelle froze up at her words. Slowly, Elya looked up at her. Her eyes... they were a bright green, like shining emeralds.

"At the end of third-year. They took him, and he came back different. Meek. Forgetful. Sweet, but... hollow..."

"Wh- What are you saying...?"

"The Cobalt I love... and the Cobalt you know... I think... I think they might be two different... agh... no..."

Grabbing the iron dagger off the floor, Elya lunged for Karazelle's throat. Her icy violet gaze had returned, and she was practically growling like a furious animal. With the blade pressed against the Succubus' neck, she leaned in close to her ear.

"Do not think to sway my judgement again, harlot. I am so close, and I will not hesitate to cut you down should you provoke me further. Cobalt Trayer is mine. I have spilled blood for him, and he has spilled blood for me. These red ties bind us eternally, and I will not allow a contemptuous little whore like you break them. Consider this your final warning."

She shoved Karazelle back against the wall before harshly beating her wings, whipping up a ferocious gale in the basement of the Science building. A storm of dust blinded the Succubus, and by the time it subsided, the Fallen was gone. She held a hand to her neck and took a deep breath, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

Three steps forward and two steps back, but at least she had gotten somewhere with Elya. Clearly there was something much, much deeper going on with the school nurse.

A lump formed in Karazelle's throat.

Her words were frightening, however. She didn't know much about Cobalt's student days; she had asked Viola about them of course, but the Headmistress downright refused to discuss the matter.

Cobalt's stress, his memory troubles, this alleged change in his behavior, Elya's worsening psychological state... It was all beginning to form a kind of deeply unsettling pattern.

"Okay... okay. No sense in panicking. You've got this..." Karazelle whispered to herself, dusting herself down as she stood up.

One foot at a time. For now, she had to focus on getting Cobalt out of his slump.

Picking the bottle of diluted solution off the floor, she tucked it under her arm and made for the stairs.

"One foot at a time..."