~~~~~

"Back again. It's been a while."

There was a paradoxical scent in the air. The cold, clinical sting of hospital disinfectant mixed with the oddly-comforting must of old books. Cobalt could feel the half-hearted warmth of a fire flickering against his skin, but it only heated one side of his body, leaving the other chilled to the bone. Frowning, he pried his eyes open, wincing in pain as his head throbbed.

He was in the middle of a strange room, seated upon an old armchair. It mostly appeared to be a stately study, but the wood paneled walls and hardwood floors had broken away in some places, revealing grey, sterile tiles. The fireplace was split down the middle with a single log smouldering in the grate, and blank books were scattered all over the floor. A few rose vines poked through the cracks, but they were dry and withered.

The Incubus blinked a couple of times and looked down. He was dressed in dull grey robes that ethereally floated just off the surface of his skin.

His Deepest Refuge. Where the consciousness retreated when the body was at death's door.

"I'm back," Cobalt said aloud, gazing at his scarred hands.

"I just said that," spoke a voice from a few feet away.

There, sitting by the door, was a pitch-black cat. Its tail slowly swayed back and forth behind him as its piercing green eyes bored into him.

"You again," Cobalt murmured.

That damned cat. It had been haunting his mind for months now, always showing up when he slipped into his Deepest Refuge, and even some times when he was still awake. He still wasn't sure as to whether it was some kind of strange psychological coping method his brain had cooked up or something else entirely.

The cat cocked its head.

"I thought I told you before, Cobalt; I'm entirely my own person," it said in a voice that was both soothed and stressed the Incubus out.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Who are you then?"

"Nobody in particular. Everyone important. Both. Neither. It hardly matters right now, wouldn't you agree?"

Always with the cryptic riddles.

"Ngh..." the Incubus grunted, heaving himself out of his seat.

He cried out as he fell to his knees, his vision spinning as his centre of gravity subtly shifted. The cat ambled over to him and peered deep into his eyes.

"A little heavier in step?" it asked.

"No, it's just... something happened out there," the Incubus breathed, holding a hand to his head as he staggered back to his feet.

"Oh?"

"Devil... I was attacked by a Devil. A proper one, this time. Horns, wings, tail... She did something to me."

Stepping over to the door, he pushed it open to reveal a long hallway. Like the study, it was a mess of wood paneling and stone tiles, with a mire of torn pages and broken furniture littering the floor.

"She did. But in turn, you did something to her," the cat responded, weaving between Cobalt's legs and threatening to trip him up.

They passed by a rundown room containing little more than a dull mirror and a worn plaque. The word Courage was inscribed upon it.

"I bit her. I panicked and bit her."

A little further on down the hall, they passed by another room, this one almost completely empty. A small box lay discarded on the floor, lying half-open with the remnants of a broken chain lying scattered around it. The word Passion was written upon a small nameplate.

"And before that, I..."

"Go on. Best say it out loud," encouraged the cat, jumping over a broken side table.

"... I slipped. Again. I..."

Cobalt went quiet as he looked down at his hands once more.

"I bore witness to that, yes. If you want my opinion, I think you did a commendable job restraining yourself up until then."

"But then he-"

"Hurt someone close to you, yes. Not the first time that's happened, is it?"

The Incubus looked down at the cat.

"You mean Diate?" he asked in a small voice.

It flicked its tail and continued on down the hall.

"Do I?"

Gritting his teeth, Cobalt shook his head and headed wards the doors at the end of the corridor. No, there was no point in trying to glean anything from that thing. All it did was run rings around him and confuse him further. He just had to focus on finding the way out.

Marching up to the doors, he took a moment to gaze at them. Dead thorns and broken chains lay limply on the floor, while the word RESOLVE had been scrawled upon the weathered wood in red paint.

"Right..." he breathed, pushing the doors open with a resounding creak.

They opened out into a large, empty atrium. It looked like some bizarre mix of a hospital lobby and the entrance hall of a mansion, all stitched together with withered vines and dead roses. Pale light streamed through large, barred windows, and numerous faceless busts sat upon plinths all around him. Two spiral staircases led up to a second floor gantry, all the while more tattered pages blustered about on stale gusts of wind. As he ventured into the middle of the hall, Cobalt could see numerous other doors all around him, but they all appeared to be locked off with dark chains and heavy locks. Behind him was a large set of oak doors that he assumed led outside, but they too were locked.

"What is this place?" Cobalt asked, peering up at the rusted chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"It's your Deepest Refuge. You should know this; you're something of a regular visitor," the cat answered snidely as it licked its paws.

He gritted his teeth.

"I know that. But why does it look like this?"

"Expectations versus reality, perhaps?"

Cobalt was about to ask what it meant, but upon seeing the glint in the cat's eyes, he thought better of it. There was no point in trying to get answers from it.

"Well I don't see any way out from here," he sighed, gazing up at the second floor.

"That makes two of you."

"What?"

Cobalt quickly peered back down at where the cat was, but it had mysteriously vanished. Eyes wide, the looked all around him, but it was gone.

"Huh? Where'd you go?" the Incubus said aloud, looking under his feet.

He received no answer, save for the stale breeze that whistled through the gaps in the wall.

"Hello?!" he called, turning to face the entrance doors.

This time, his ears registered a sound echoing from behind him.

Heavy footsteps.

He turned to face the corridor he had entered the hall from. A tall figure loomed in the doorway, dressed in grey robes, just like his. They took a sharp breath and spoke in a familiar voice.

"What did you do...?"

~~~~~

Cobalt's eyes opened wide as he took a sharp breath of air.

He was laying on his back upon something soft, gazing at a poorly-wired light bulb hanging from a rocky ceiling. He could hear mechanical whirring and thrumming all around him, though he couldn't focus on any of it. The Incubus felt as though his skull had been split clean in two, and a persistent pain throbbed behind his forehead.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He gasped and instinctively clapped a hand to the side of his neck. He could feel no blood, no gashes; only a series of scarred indentations.

"What...?" he murmured, remembering the distinct feeling of sharp fangs piercing his flesh.

The Devil, the spell, the blood... That all happened, right?

Shaking his head, Cobalt sat upwards and looked around. He was sitting upon a bed in the middle of a cave. Shelves were installed upon the rocky walls and numerous metal crates lay around the room, each filled with broken electronics. Over by one wall, a complex computer system sat idling upon a desk, while over by the other, he could see a wardrobe filled with mismatched clothes.

"Where...?"

He made to get out of the bed, only to realise with some alarm that he was naked. Eyes wide, he quickly grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around himself, taking great care not to leave anything exposed. Touching his feet down upon cold stone, he eased himself off the bed and stumbled towards the cave's exit, groaning in pain as his head pulsed in time to his heartbeat.

The strange bedroom connected to a narrow stone tunnel, illuminated by strings of lights erratically bolted to the rocky ceiling. The Incubus slowly staggered down it, feeling his way along the rough wall as he reached the end of the hall.

"Oh for the love of..."

The tunnel opened up into a larger cavern, one that Cobalt was distinctly familiar with.

It looked like some crazed combination of a mechanic's workshop and a chemistry storeroom, but the Incubus knew for a fact that he was standing in a secret laboratory built deep within the bedrock of the Brimstone Nature Park. Workbenches, tool racks and distillation equipment ringed the centre of the lab, and hundreds of wires and cables snaked their way across the walls. The ground was covered with insulating rubber mats, and in the very middle of the cave was an old pool table modified to act as a surgical slab, one Cobalt didn't have fond memories of. He gave it a wide berth as he shuffled across the floor, gazing warily at the massive mechanical claw protruding from the ceiling above it.

The far wall of the laboratory was dominated by dozens upon dozens of mismatched computer screens, each displaying different graphs and data tables that the Incubus could barely understand it. A couple of desks beneath them were laden with scientific and medical documents, as well as junk food wrappers, old wine bottles and empty plastic baggies.

A single beaten computer chair sat before them all, upon which lounged a single, distinct figure.

A woman was sleeping peacefully with a magazine spread across her face. She wore a burnt and stained lab coat over an equally tarnished tank top. Loose tools jutted precariously from the pockets of her cargo shorts, and her heavy boots reached almost halfway up her calves. The smell of cheap alcohol and chemical inhalants seemed to linger around her.

Cobalt frowned at the sight of the woman who had endangered his life almost as many times as she had saved it.

"Alison..." the Incubus grumbled aloud, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself.

She snorted herself awake. The magazine flopped to the floor, revealing her face.

The most jarring thing about Alison Titch - aside from her brilliant mind, skilled hands and general disregard for ethics - was the fact that she was a human. Her bright green eyes constantly darted about, and her freckled cheeks always seemed to be smudged with oil or dirt. A pair of welding goggles sat upon her forehead and as she climbed out of her chair, she ran a hand through her singed hair and laughed.

"Hey, look who's finally up and about!" the intrepid scientist remarked, cracking her spine as she broke out into a series of stretches.

Cobalt just stared at her with an indignant gaze.

"What did you think of my new bedroom? I started expanding the lab over the summer; I'm hoping to make it into a proper complex by the time the year is out. Got big plans, bluebell, and that means I gotta make room for some more transformers if I'm gonna siphon enough power to-"

"What happened to me?" the Incubus asked bluntly, unwilling to put up with Alison's usual blathering.

She stopped stretching in order to look him up and down.

"No small talk?" she asked.

"I'm not really in the mood for small talk, Alison."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Here, take a seat."

She kicked the chair towards him before scuttling over to one of the mechanical keyboards on her desk.

"Where are my clothes?" Cobalt asked, clinging tightly to the blanket.

"One thing at a time."

"But-"

"One thing at a time!"

She typed something into the computer, causing all of the screens to display the same image; a graph of Cobalt's body.

"So, I found you passed out in the park last night, completely covered in blood. Like the good girl I am, I brought you inside and gave you a once over. You're welcome," she explained, gesturing to the screens.

"That doesn't explain why you stripped me."

"Like I said, you were covered in blood. Had to take your clothes off in order to clean them. Plus they were stopping me from getting a good look at you."

He glared at her.

"For strictly medical purposes, of course."

Cobalt continued to stare at her.

"Swear on my brother's hand."

Taking a deep breath, the Incubus buried his face in his hands.

"Alison, I was attacked last night. Can we please skip the jokes?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

"Alright, alright. Found out a couple of things you might wanna hear."

She tapped a key, switching the display to a list of chemicals and compounds.

"Well first of all, when I brought you in you were bleeding from the neck from what looked like a fresh bite. Then poof; you started glowing, there was a big burst of steam, and the wound just closed up. Just to be safe I kept you under observation for a couple of hours, but you didn't seem to show any of the usual negative effects of blood loss."

Cobalt grew uneasy upon hearing those words. What she was describing was very similar to what happened last year, back when he had suffered a critical stab wound to the stomach. After a while, his body suddenly just repaired itself. But back then it had taken hours, not minutes.

"Was there anyone else around me?" he asked, glancing up at his human companion.

She frowned apologetically and shook her head.

"Not that I could find. I checked my camera feeds as well, but that clearing was in a blind spot."

"... Right..."

"You should probably also know that your body was pretty low on calcium when I found you. Had to give you a couple of shots to keep you from leeching it straight from your bones."

The Incubus gave her a confused look. That was new.

"Calcium...?" he murmured.

Alison nodded.

"My guess? Your body nearly wore itself out generating all of these."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag of malformed teeth, the sight of which caused Cobalt to grow uncomfortable.

"O- Oh... I see..." he murmured, turning his gaze away.

"Gotta say, it's impressive how quickly your body can generate bones. Oh, speaking of, I did have to perform a teensy~ little surgical procedure on you," Alison responded, snapping her fingers.

"You what?!"

Giving him an apologetic smile, the human produced two small, disc-shaped devices and presented them to the Incubus. They were artificial vertebrae, developed by Alison herself. Cobalt's eyes widened at the sight of them. With a shocked gasp, he reached around and pressed his hand against his lower back. He could feel the slight indentation of surgical scars.

"Th- They...?!"

"Yup. Your vertebrae just kinda... grew back. Still figuring that one out, bluebell," Alison mused, holding the prosthetic devices up to the light.

Cobalt's breathing began to quicken as her words reached his ears. The changes happened to his body... They were getting worse.

"What else?" he asked, turning his frightened eyes onto the scientist.

"Eh?"

"What else happened to me?!"

Pursing her lips, she sat down on the desk and took a deep breath. Looking the Incubus in the eyes, Alison clasped her hands and pointed at him.

"There is... one more thing. But you gotta promise me that you won't freak out," she said in an unusually serious tone.

Cobalt swallowed hard. He could already feel himself beginning to shake, but he steeled himself and nodded. Rather than say anything, Alison opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a hand mirror. Wiping the dust off, she flipped it around and handed it to the Incubus.

"For the record, I think they look nice!" she said, taking a step back.

Though he was filled with a sense of terrible dread, the Incubus took the mirror in both hands and gazed at his reflection.

His horns. Gone were the two curved spikes of spiraled yellow bone. In their place, Cobalt bore two jagged horns comprised of rough, dark metal. Iron, to be precise.

The horns of a Devil.

The mirror slipped from his grasp, shattering against the floor. Alison flinched and made a forced joke about bad luck, but the Incubus was deaf to her words. Quivering all over, he slowly reached up and wrapped his fingers around his horns, his skin crawling at the feeling of coarse metal. He began to hyperventilate, collapsing to the floor and shuffling away from the broken glass.

"No..."

"H- Hey, bluebell, you promised not to freak out," Alison said, gathering the broken glass up.

"Th- This can't be happening...!"

Tossing the glass over her shoulder, the scientist rushed to Cobalt's side, grasping his shoulder as she holds his outstretched hand.

"Stay with me, alright? You're alright, it's just-"

"What...?! How...?!"

"They were like that when I found you, bluebell. I'm just as stumped as you are."

"What did she do to me?!"

"Who are you talking about?"

Clutching his wrist, Cobalt gritted his teeth and flexed his hand.

"M- Menidutitrof ihim ad... A- Arbmu...!"

He felt a brief rush of magic from his horns, but nothing more happened. The Incubus tried to reach deep into the umbral power his people controlled, but where he once found a wellspring of untapped shadow, Cobalt instead found barely a trickle of dark energy. Not nearly enough to even cast a single spell.

"M- My magic... She... She took my magic..." he breathed, staring dead ahead as he let his arm flop down by his side.

Taking a deep breath, Alison took a step back and folded her arms.

"Putting whoever 'she' is aside, you don't know that for sure," she said, raising both of her hands.

"It's gone, Alison! My umbramancy! My psychomancy! I can't tap into any of it!" the Incubus cried, jumping back to his feet.

"What about the other one? What did you say it was called again...? Weapon Fabrication or something like that?"

She had a point. Cursing himself for losing his composure, the Incubus steadied himself and raised a weak hand.

"Ocov et," he incanted.

This time, he felt a stronger, more familiar rush of power. Blueish energy began to circulate around Cobalt's hand. This was promising.

"A- Amra ilobaid!"

The magic grew stronger, forming a bluish rift in midair. Right as Cobalt excitedly plunged his arm inside, however, something went wrong. Rather than form a vortex of dark shadow, the magic began to heat up. It glowed brighter and brighter, growing hotter as it began to emanate a strange magnetic force. Clutching something that lay within, the Incubus clenched his teeth tightly and ripped it out.

But he did find himself holding his trusty Leather Whip.

There, clutched in Cobalt's pale hand, was a rapidly-cooling iron chain. One end was coiled around his wrist, while the other thumped to the floor, threatening to melt the rubber mats underfoot.

"N- No..." he breathed, staring at the chain as the links ceased glowing.

"Oh... I... I really don't know what to say, bluebell," Alison murmured, squinting in amazement at it.

Unwilling to hold it any longer, Cobalt dispelled the chain in a flash of molten metal. Swallowing hard, he glanced over at the clock in the corner of one of the computer screens.

School was in almost an hour.

"... Where are my clothes?" the Incubus asked in a quiet voice.

"Um, bluebell, I really think we should take a second to-"

"No. I've got work. Where are my clothes, Alison?"

"But-!"

"Alison! Please!" he yelled desperately.

Staring at him with a concerned gaze, Alison opened her mouth to say something, but slowly shut it and sighed. She turned and walked off deeper into the lab, leaving Cobalt alone. He stared at the mark on the floor where the chain had burned through the mat.

He... didn't have time to fret about this.

No, he had to get to work.

He could deal with everything later.

Yes, later.

"... Get it together, Trayer. Get it... together..." he muttered to himself, clenching his fists.

A few minutes later, Alison returned carrying a neat pile of folded clothes. Placing them in front of Cobalt, she looked him in the eye and sighed.

"Okay. I'll look into whatever's going on with you. Just... stay calm, alright? We'll figure this out, bluebell. I promise."

Patting his shoulder, the scientist turned on her heel and headed off towards her bedroom, leaving him to dress. Piece by piece, Cobalt donned his freshly-washed clothes, never once taking his gaze off the burn mark in the floor. Fixing his tie, he reached up and touched his horns once more.

He exhaled and began to walk towards the exit.

"Get it together..."