I had become used to the dance of death. My footwork was still clumsy, but the tune was familiar, and the more practice I got, the more it sunk into my very being. Instead of just trying to keep up, now I wanted to lead. Find out what moves I could really pull off, maybe even improvise a little. The judges held their score cards pensively, but I was sure I would blow their brains out… one way or another.

[What am I then, Eric?]

I shrugged, my confident statement suddenly washing away at the slightest breeze of confrontation. “You’re definitely not ordinary, but that is something you should be asking yourself. All philosophical-like.”

The bird-demon tilted his head and cupped his beak, taking my deflection as a something serious to consider.

[If I were something else, the Org does not allow me to use anything but demonic power.]

The thought had been lodged within him. I turned to the Blank, who was now nervously packing away his things. “Not going to stay for the show?”

“I think… it’s either a bad idea or a terrible idea - the Org is expecting me for my meeting.” He scrunched up his face. “Ditching that to run a Hunter assassination would probably reflect poorly since they already rescheduled it.”

“That is fair.” A bit of a spoilsport, but I could tell I wasn’t the only one trying to walk on a slippery slope. Our little jaunts to Hell had shaken something loose in Wight too - but were preferable to him having to scatter himself once more.

Rodney got up and hit some buttons on the portal to load up the Org’s location. “Get some food in you. You’ll waste away by the time Pearl gets back.” He sighed and looked up at me. “I can’t tell you what not to do, but stay alive and get back before I have to return home, otherwise I’ll be stuck at the Org.”

“A fate worse than death.” I nodded. “We’ll survive… and Rods, you’ll do great. We’ll celebrate… or be miserable about it when you’re back.”

He shot me a grin as the blue of the portal spooled up. “Thanks, Eric.”

Wight and I waited for him to step into it and zoom off to the Org, before my demon crouched down and started to press the buttons.

“You know where they are?”

[Of course. Killing his way through a devil apartment block.]

I shivered at how… genocidal that sounded. “Alright, smart guy. I’ve been holding out on you.”

He turned to look up at me, his clawed hand paused in the air before he finished the destination runes.

[Oh?]

“You keep saying I need to work on my own powers, well I have a new one that I put together during our last trip.” Or possibly during the fevered coma afterwards, it was hard to tell.

[You are bluffing, you had no time to.]

A wide grin spread across my face. “You want me to tell you what it does?”

[No, save it for when it’s needed. Abilities are cooler that way.]

The demon resumed punching in the data needed.

[Does it have a suitable name?]

“Of course, I’m great at those.” I rubbed my jaw. Partially good at them. Blood Redd wasn’t terrible, but it said more about the activation than the resulting effect. It should have been called Slomo Crits or something. Perhaps sticking to my gut instincts would be better.

Wight stood up as he completed the control panel. A red portal began to form, shimmering in different hues. I’d never thought them to be beautiful, but there was some kind of artistry to them that I didn’t hate. Red to Hell, blue to Org, and Max had used a pink one - I wondered what they all meant.

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[Plan?]

“No, thanks.” I pulled a face. “Go in, kill demons, extort information from Hunter, maybe kill them too. Uhhh, don’t die?”

[I am fully onboard with all those points, Eric.]

“Perfect. That’s why you’re my best friend.” I froze and furrowed my brow. Wight looked at me impassively. Corruption had loosened my tongue, but the revelation had not been borne of madness. Not in the traditional sense. Best friends with a demon was only slightly stranger than being in a relationship with one, due to our pact.

He was meant to be used as a hammer to beat the demonic nails into bloody pulps. Fulfill your purpose and then fuck off. Whatever he was, I trusted him with my life and had put it in his hands on many occasions. We were stronger for it, allowing each other to be pushed to our limits. Org wasn’t keen on it, but they didn’t truly know our capability or worth. I intended to keep it that way.

[Friendship is not something I have a prior emotional reference to. But I believe you are my best friend as well, Eric.]

I held my hands up and both my revolver and Wight’s blade spun into them from the shelving by the stairs. My obsidian mask of mist flooded over my face - this time not only leaving my eyes but also a toothed grin of bright crimson.

“Then, let’s go, buddy.”

Amber heat washed over us as we stepped into the Lowers. The looming buildings around us immediately brought me back to our little adventure near the Sea. High-rise apartments in dried out stone looked more burgundy than gray in the light. I stepped to the side as a body fell from the building to my right.

As Wight pooled in, the wet thud sprayed internal juices across the floor beside him.

[Looks like the party is in full force already.]

I handed him his blade. Feeling warm wasn’t necessarily odd or worthy of note in the Hells, but this was different. And internal fuzziness like a shot of hard liquor on a winter's day. “Let’s keep this short and sweet. My corruption senses are tingling.”

[We both need some rest.]

Partly, I agreed. The other part really missed the music anytime I started losing the plot. Briefly, I wondered how viable it would be to find a Siren and repeat the process. Finding some heat resistant headphones might be the slightly safer option, though.

“Let’s go then. See what our little friend squeals like.” Hopefully, they knew how to play poker too - I was still sore that Max ditched us. I made a mental note not to shoot potential friends, lest it drive them away. Without a license.

As soon as we entered the lobby, the carnage was already apparent. A handful of dead devils, deep red skin and even deeper red blood, lay mangled across the floor. At least this Hunter was halfway competent.

“What level were they again?”

[Eight.]

I turned to my patron and wrinkled up my face behind my mask. Wight had us shooting for the stars, but some were just hanging over the stage by thin rope and could easily fall and crush us. “You think we’re…?”

[Our low level is bordering on criminal.]

He paused and looked up at the ceiling.

[Were such things under the influence of any kind of law.]

“Yeah, we are kind of… outlaws.” I spun the revolver in my hand. “The body fell from what looked like the thirteenth floor, so get your walking legs on.”

[Done and done.]

With a nod, we strode over to the staircase just out of the corner of the lobby. The heat inside the building was more stifling and dense, but not as overpowering as it used to feel. I raised my hands as my gloves pooled over, a slight flickering of crimson in the little domed shapes upon them. Just a slight chance of rain, then. As I lowered them, the sign across for me caught my attention.

“This says floor thirteen already.”

Wight stopped, his foot on the first step.

[That went by quicker than expected.]

Behind the safety of my mask, I rolled my eyes. We continued up the stairs, took a one-eighty around the corner, and ascended the next flight.

This next floor said thirteen too.

“Must be confusing for the residents.” I shrugged. “We just have to follow the sounds of devils dying, so easy enough for us.”

[Shame your new ability isn’t to fly, Eric.]

“Why would mine be to fly? You’re the bird.”

[I’m a demon.]

“Are you though?”

Wight paused to have another think about it. I was pretty sure we had this conversation very recently, but after living in the apartments for thirteen years, these things tend to blend together. No, that wasn’t quite right.

“Let’s keep moving. We’ll have our existential crisis right after cracking some skulls.”

He nodded, and we resumed in silence.

I was struggling to recall whose idea this was, as it was a pretty terrible and reckless one. Delve into the unknown when we were both reeling from corruption and exhaustion to accost an unknown Hunter who was higher level into giving us information on the whole portal thing? Without Rodney or pancakes?

Sounded like one of my ideas, in fairness.

We rounded another few floors. Holes in the walls, splashes of blood and devil corpses littered the hallways we avoided. In a way, it was nostalgic, although my apartment party just had a large teddy bear and regret made manifest. Such a bore.

The sound of fighting drew closer - now only a few floors above us. I nodded to Wight and brought my left hand up. “Ready for the new ability?” I whispered through a wide grin.

He nodded eagerly.

I swirled the demonic energy within me, mixing it with a bit of my divine ability, and then finally, with the stamp of approval from the Rat God - I wrote a cross of blazing gray energy in the air in front of me.