The Brodes had a bathroom that put Cobalt's entire dorm room to shame. The size alone dwarfed his home, and it boasted amenities that he could never even hope to afford. A luxurious bath with built-in hot tub features, dual vanity sinks, a sparkling white bidet and a toilet that looked bizarrely high tech. It even had its own remote.

But Cobalt was far too frazzled to marvel at the porcelain palace all around him. He just stood in front of one of the mirrors, staring wide-eyed at himself as Lilith paced back and forth behind him. Shaking a little, he raised a finger and touched his clothes.

His usual shirt and slacks... They had been replaced by a pristine black tuxedo, complete with a rose pinned to the lapel. Even his trusty tie was gone, and in its place was a bowtie. Cobalt couldn't even afford a suit this fancy; when the Hell did he change into this?!

Behind him, Lilith clapped her hands together.

"What if we slipped into your little mind palace thingy without realising it?" she suggested.

Cobalt slowly shook his head. No, this wasn't his Deepest Refuge. He knew that for sure. That damned cat would have shown up to rub his nose in it if it were.

"No. We're still conscious. Whatever's going on here, it's very real," he told her, looking over his shoulder.

The Devil folded her arms and leaned against an ornate towel rack.

"Never knew a lower demon's magic could do something like this," she sighed, scratching at her eye.

"Outbursts are... interesting, to say the least. I'm something of a veteran by this point."

"No kidding."

Deciding to stop focusing on his new clothes for the time being, Cobalt gazed deep into the mirror and took a deep breath.

"Common in second stage demons, brought on by extreme emotion with the result often reflecting what triggered the outburst in the first place..." he recited, thinking back on everything he had read up on regarding the subject.

"Which means...?" Lilith asked, gesturing for him to continue.

He frowned.

"At the start of the year, Whitney told me her parents were divorcing, but that she was coping with it. Since what happened with Epsilon, she's be confined at home, so her parents relationship is only worsening. I think she blames herself for their separation. That must be the root of this," the Incubus concluded, pounding his fist against his palm.

His Devil companion looked away for a moment before sighing deeply.

"Leave it to the parents to screw the kid up..."

There was a lot of weight behind those words.

"Yeah. Tell me about it," he concurred.

"Don't think you're in much of a place to talk, kid. Your mom loves the Hell out of you."

Jezebel did her best, he knew that as much as everyone. But mistakes were still made, no matter how well-intentioned.

"I know. And I love her too, it's just... Mom kept a lot of things from me, and it was because of that secrecy that I was so terrified when the day finally came."

"Is this your stint in the Undercroft?"

"Yeah... I never knew about Incupsychosis until they had me in the straitjacket. Most terrifying day of my life. Could never really trust her completely after that," he sighed, turning the tap.

Cobalt didn't know why he was telling her this. It seemed that not that long ago the pair of them were at each other's throats, clawing for any petty bit of ammunition they could throw in the other's face. His face burned with shame as he splashed it with water.

"... you were right, you know," Lilith said, tossing him a towel.

The Incubus raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"That night at your mom's place. You were right. I am running from my dad."

His eyes widened.

"L- Lilith, I didn't mean to-"

"Save your apologies; we both acted like children that night. You said I was intruding on your life, and you were right about that too. So it's only fair I let you know about myself, okay?"

The way her voice quivered ever so slightly when she said that... Her usual gruff edge was gone. Lilith had been wanting to say this to somebody for so long.

"My dad... he was a good guy, for the most part. Not perfect and a little up his own ass, but he loved me like a father should. Back in Pandemonium, we were happy. Even though he was torn between keeping the city ticking and making sure the Chain kept chugging along, he always found time to spend with us," she sighed, staring at the ceiling.

Her single eye glinted with wistful nostalgia.

"He went sour after the Rapture," she said.

Cobalt nodded understandingly.

"I can imagine..."

"Wasn't because of the angels. Wasn't because of the lower demon uprising. Wasn't even because of the Incubi. It was my mom."

Unsure of what to say as this heavy information was laid out, Cobalt sat down on top of the toilet seat, clasping his hands politely as Lilith kept talking.

"Threw herself at a horde of blueskins to buy time for the evacuations. Last I saw of her she was screaming for me to run. She's a martyr down in Dis; everyone keeps a picture of her in their homes."

She sighed.

"Dad, though... He was never the same. Devils hold grudges like motherfuckers, but he became obsessed with the loss of our home. Over the years, he just got more bitter and hateful. Stopped calling me by my name, just referred to me as Omega. Like I was just a tool."

Cobalt cocked his head.

"A tool?"

"Yeah. He wanted me to play a role in some big revenge plan. A plan involving this," she explained, peeling open her eye socket and pointing to the Iron Artillery.

Nodding slowly, the Incubus swallowed hard. The Devils... They had been hard done by. There were arguments in favour of their destruction, but after everything he had heard about the Rapture, he wasn't so sure anymore. To have almost an entire civilisation destroyed from three sides, and the survivors forced to thanklessly maintain an eternal labour cycle... No wonder they were desperate for change.

"I... I'm sorry for your loss," he said, glancing up at her.

Lilith shrugged.

"I came to terms with it a long time ago. But in a way I get what that girl's going through. My mom wanted me to pursue my dreams of becoming a fully-fledged architect. Dad thought it would be best if I trained for an administrative role instead. They'd argue about it a lot."

Cobalt's eyes widened.

"And you'd wish you could satisfy both of their expectations..." he breathed, standing up straight.

"I guess? It never got as bad as those two at the dinner table."

"Lilith, that's it!"

Rushing up to the Devil, he grabbed both of her shoulders.

"Lady Whitney and Madam Brode! They're both representations of her parents wishes for her!" he gasped.

She just raised and eyebrow and pushed him away.

"Don't jostle me, kid. You sure?"

"Not entirely, but sure enough. Lady Whitney strikes me as the modelling type, and a woman as fashionable as Madam Brode would have to be in the garment business, right?"

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"I dunno, sounds like a bit of a stretch."

"This entire situation is a stretch! It's the best lead we have!"

Stepping away from the Devil, he gripped the bowl of the sink and stared hard into the mirror.

"Before I passed out, I heard her say something about giving them both what they wanted."

Lilith cocked her head, still unconvinced.

"So she, what? Split in two? Demons can't do that last time I checked."

"No, but Nymphs can do something similar, right?"

Her eyes widened.

"Of course. We're trapped in a giant illusion," she breathed, the truth finally dawning on her.

"Exactly! Nymph's can't usually create such complex illusions, but outbursting demons generally display vastly increased magical capabilities."

The Devil nodded.

"Right. So what's the game here?"

Scratching his chin, Cobalt thought for a moment.

"We need to find the real Whitney. I think we can safely ignore all the party guests; they seem to just be distractions. Lady Whitney and Madam Brode are our best options. We find out which is the real deal, then convince her to calm down and end this whole farce."

"Hm... Not the best plan I've ever heard, but we're not exactly flush with options. If you can't talk her down, I'll see about jamming her magic. It'll stop her confusing us further, at the very least," Lilith said, flexing her hand.

Flashes of grey energy danced between her fingertips, reminding Cobalt of just how much power the Devils commanded.

"I'll leave it to you, kid," she told him with a nod.

She darkened like a shadow, her physical body melting into a ferromantic mass of fluid magic. Steeling himself, Cobalt walked into it, allowing Lilith's essence to melt back into his body. It didn't hurt as much as it usually did.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Washing his hands, the Incubus quickly dried them off and crept out of the bathroom, peering around the Brode's upper floor for any sign of the two debutantes. Thankfully he was more or less alone; a few maid Whitneys were pottering about with feather dusters, but they mostly paid him no heed.

"Where do you think the others went? Her parents and that butler guy?"

"I don't know. Somewhere safe, I hope."

When Whitney's outburst reached criticality, Cobalt threw himself in front of her, taking the brunt of the impact. Perhaps only he was pulled into the illusion, and Whitney's family managed to get to a safe distance in time...?

"Right..."

"Let's just focus on finding the real Whitney first."

Turning on his heel, the Incubus made to head towards the stairs, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed something. A door was left open down a hall to his left. Lightning bolts had been carved into the wood around the handle, and the door itself was covered in old, worn stickers. Whitney's name was written on a silver plate bolted to it.

Furrowing his brow, Cobalt changed course and headed straight for Whitney's bedroom. He knocked just to be polite, but upon hearing nothing from within, he carefully pushed it open with his foot.

Whitney's bedroom was much messier than he anticipated. Despite how large it was, nearly every square inch of the floor was covered in dirty clothes, and the drawn curtains cast a heavy gloom over the entire room. The bedsheets on the luxurious four-poster were heavily rumpled, and as the Incubus picked his way deeper inside, he noticed the smell of sweat hanging in the air. Whitney hadn't left her room for days before he arrived.

"Why are we in her depression hole, again?" Lilith asked.

He wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps there were some clues in here? Hints as to the real Whitney's identity?

Stepping over to one of the curtained windows, Cobalt ran his hand over the Nymph's messy desk. Aside from her laptop and her collection of drawing tools, it was covered in dozens of crumpled drawings.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Sticking out of her computer."

Raising an eyebrow, Cobalt carefully opened the lid of Whitney's laptop, causing the screen to light up. There, concealed within it, were a few informational pamphlets, each pertaining to the usage and upkeep of...

"Medical prostheses," the Incubus sighed.

"Primitive ones, too. Is that a hook?"

Shaking his head, Cobalt closed the laptop again. Lady Whitney and Madam Brode were both wearing gloves, so that wasn't much help.

Turning around, something else caught the Incubus' eye. There, pinned to the frame of Whitney's bed, was a trio of photographs. He raised an eyebrow and carefully unpinned the first one, squinting through the gloom in order to see it better.

It was a class picture taken back in Whitney's first year at B.I.D., before Cobalt arrived at the school. She was still blonde back then, and she was preening herself for the camera with a gaggle of starry-eyed students gathered all around her. On the other side of the photograph, an apathetic Karazelle stood with her arms folded. Jelli was hunched miserably in the corner, and Izzbelle was standing apart from the rest of the class. Lottie wasn't even in frame; all Cobalt could see of the Golem was a tuft of silver hair sticking out from the edge of the picture. Mr. Whitaker - the Incubus' predecessor - stood with his hands behind his back, a stern look in his eyes.

"Yeesh," was all Lilith said.

He put that photo back where it belonged and took a closer look at the next one.

He remembered this one; it was the first class photograph that he had taken with 2-F, barely a month after he started working at B.I.D. Quinn and Lottie were already fast friends at that point, as the pair were trying and failing to pull a synchronised pose for the camera. Karazelle clung to a nervous Cobalt Trayer's arm, while Jelli and Izzbelle stood side-by-side at the edge of the picture, their moods having improved since the previous photograph. Whitney - her hair blue and her orbiters conspicuously missing - stood to Cobalt's left, giving the camera an awkward wave. This picture was in much better condition than the last.

He squinted. He never noticed it before, but Elya was in the photo as well, hidden within a tree in the background.

"She looks happier here."

"I suppose..." Cobalt murmured, unpinning the final picture.

This one was recent; it had only been taken two or three months ago. Izzbelle and Jelli were actually smiling, and Quinn was sitting on Lottie's shoulders. Elya stood half-hidden behind the tree, and over next to the Incubus, Karazelle had Whitney in a teasing headlock. The Succubus had one arm wrapped around her neck and was using her other hand to squeeze the Nymph's cheeks, forcing her to stick her tongue out. Her piercing glinted in the sunlight, and despite the uncomfortable position she was pushed into, she was smiling.

"Someone's got a girl crush."

Judging by all the pinpricks at the top of the photograph, it had been tacked up and taken down multiple times. A few spots of the picture were warped. It looked like water damage.

"Tears..." he breathed.

Footsteps echoed from outside the bedroom, sending a surge of panic tearing through the Incubus. Jamming the photograph into his pocket, he whipped around right as someone stepped into the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Uh-oh, did I catch a peeper in the act~?" chimed a singsong voice.

He heard the flick of a lightswitch. Around the bedroom, various lamps illuminated, filling the room with a warm glow. Lady Whitney stood by the door, one hand planted on her hip as she smiled disarmingly at the Incubus.

"Sorry, I just got lost. I didn't mean to pry," Cobalt quickly said, doing his best not to appear panicked.

"Hm~? You sure~?"

She slowly walked towards him, strutting through the mire of clothes in the same way a model struts a catwalk. Her every step was carefully planned and calculated, her swaying gait hypnotising the Incubus. She closed the gap quicker than he could react, whereupon he Nymph raised her leg and planted her high-heel against the wall behind Cobalt, trapping him in place.

"It's alright if you were snooping. I won't be, like, mad or anything," she said, her bare leg a mere inch from Cobalt's head.

Was this a threat? Was she threatening him?

"Don't you need to be downstairs? This is your event, isn't it?" Cobalt asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sticking out her lower lip, the Nymph cocked her head to the side.

"Hm... I dunno about all that, you know? This whole do is, like, nice and all, but this is still my house, and I can do what I want!"

"Uh... right, okay... Listen, Whitney-"

"Lady Whitney."

"Right, of course. Listen Lady Whitney, I was just wondering if-?"

"Yes!"

He stared at her blankly. Lady Whitney just grinned at him, her gaze flitting from one of his eyes to the other.

"... Sorry?"

"My answer's yes!"

"Answer?"

"Yeah! To your question!"

"But I haven't even asked you anything."

"Doesn't matter! Answer's yes! Now come on, I need to make an announcement~!"

Kicking off the wall, Lady Whitney began to flit about the bedroom, kicking up a storm of old clothes as she began rooting through wardrobes, drawers and cabinets. With every door she threw open, she would heap yet more clothes and accessories into her arms.

"What do you think, sir? Should I go for the Lustrecliff Heights silk or the Redmont satin?" she asked, hoisting up a pair of almost-identical dresses.

Cobalt glanced from one to the other, unsure of what to say.

"Go for the one on the right."

"Um... that one," Cobalt murmured, pointing to the gown on the left.

"Fuck you, kid."

"Ooh, good choice~!"

Dumping the unchosen dress on the floor, the Nymph spun around and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"Unzip me?" she asked in a sultry tone, peering over her shoulder.

Cobalt stared at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Well I can't reach it myself, sir! C'mon, help me out of this thing!"

Swallowing hard, the Incubus stepped closer to Whitney, feeling incredibly out of his depth. Slowly reaching for the zipper on the back of her gown, he suddenly froze in place. Glancing back at him, Lady Whitney raised an eyebrow and backed up against him. Strangely, he could feel no body heat off her.

"What's wrong, sir~?"

"What game is she playing here?" Lilith mused as Cobalt nervously grabbed the zipper tab.

Slowly, the Incubus unzipped Lady Whitney's dress, exposing her bare back. Her skin was a flawless plane of yellow, and the Incubus found himself staring at it for far too much time. As she began to slip the dress off her shoulder, he snapped to his senses and stepped away, whipping around to face the wall.

"A- Alright, I think you can take it from here!" he cried, staring hard at one of the Ripsaw Rodeo posters on the wall.

"I don't mind if you look, sir."

Cobalt took a deep breath.

"I mind, Whitney."

"Lady Whitney."

"Of course."

"That part's important~!"

"Right..."

Feeling his cheeks burn, the Incubus silently endured as Lady Whitney got changed behind him, sighing dramatically and stretching languidly at every chance she got. Eventually, after an agonisingly long stretch of time, she cleared her throat, signaling that she was fully dressed again.

"There! Now I'm ready to make a scene!" Lady Whitney laughed, planting her hands upon her hips.

He looked back at her.

"A scene...?"

"Yup! I can't wait to see Madam Brode's face when I tell the entire party that you wanna propose to me!"

Cobalt's blood nearly froze solid in his veins. His jaw hanging half-open, he shook his head and and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, run that by me again?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

"You were gonna propose to me, right?" Lady Whitney repeated with a big grin on her face.

Staring blankly at the Nymph, he slowly shook his head.

"That was your question, right?"

Her smile began to fade.

"Right...?"

Taking a deep breath, the Incubus picked his way around Lady Whitney. She just stared at the spot where he was standing, her face frozen with confusion.

"I, um... I'll see you downstairs," he told her, patting the Nymph's shoulder before making a break for the door.

Leaving the distraught debutante in the bedroom, Cobalt shut the door behind him and rushed towards the stairs, wiping his brow as he tugged at his collar.

"What the fuck was all that about?!" Lilith cried, sounding completely bewildered.

"It's not her. That can't be Whitney."

"So it's the other one, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I just... I need some fresh air."