Basking in the scorching summer heat—surrounded by the calming, glistening waters of Bighorn Lake—Mr. Au grabbed a beer from the cooler sitting in the boat’s cockpit. He inspected the can’s label.

“This isn’t my brand.”

His wife gave him an eye roll, then rested her feet on the cooler. “Oh really? Well, mistakes happen.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, this was actually your go to.”

“Was it now?”

Mr. Au cracked the can open and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying hints of algae. “You couldn’t have removed the smell? It doesn’t have to be an exact copy does it?”

“The man I fell in love with didn’t whine nearly as much.”

“And the woman I fell in love with turned out to be an alien. Do you really wanna play this game?”

They glared at each other for a beat, then collectively roared in laughter.

Luna reached over her husband and snatched the portable CD boombox. “I almost forgot about the tunes.”

“They stopped calling them tunes a long time ago. I’ll get you caught up on the new lingo.”

She rubbed the top of his graying head. “Whatever you say, old man.”

Mr. Au shrugged. “I still look good.” He eyed his wife up and down, admiring her curves. Even with gray in her hair, and faint wrinkles on her face, she was as stunning as the first time he set eyes on her. “Speaking of looking good...”

She giggled. “So you haven’t changed that much.” She grabbed his hand. Her smooth skin against his was a splash of cold water to the face.

“Remind me to give Victor my thanks.”

“We overseers don’t have much free time—”

Mr. Au gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. “So I should cherish every moment. Got it.”

She pressed play.“When You Gonna Learn” spilled out of the cheap boombox speakers. Mr. Au raised an eyebrow. “You could have at least updated the boombox.”

“My personal zone, my rules.”

Their fishing rods lay beside their opened tackle box, displaying an array of multicolored lures.

“Maybe we should actually get some fishing done this time around,” Luna said.

Mr. Au grinned. “We were animals.”

“I’m pretty sure this is where Victor was conceived. I say pretty sure because you couldn’t keep your hands off me back then.”

“Back then? You’re acting like that slowed down. I gave you a short break while you were pregnant, but after that—”

“Okay. I misspoke.”

“Apology not accepted.”

“I didn’t apolog—”

“But, you can make it up to me in other ways.” He went in for another kiss.

“Chester, my dad gave us time. No need to rush.”

“If I see something I want, I go for it.”

“And my Ensolian form doesn’t bother you at all?”

“Are you kidding? I bagged a goddess! I’m the man!”

***

Another job well done, boomed in Melek’s head as he peered up at the ridiculous theater mask before him. He had to adjust to Lucius hijacking his inner monologue—an invasive consequence of desiring vengeance above all else.

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He had normal vision while dreaming, so he typically found joy in them. This time, an uneasiness clutched at his heart as he listened to Lucius prattle on.

My father said you played a pivotal role in La’el’s defeat.

“I guess.”

Involving you was his decision. He gave very little explanation as to why, but that is not at all surprising. He always was—

“I don’t give a shit about your family troubles,” Melek snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me that there are others out there like me? We could have really used their help.”

Careful. You are only privy to information that concerns you—

“Knowing that there are other demon slayers doesn’t concern me? You can’t be serious.”

Lucius maintained his detached disposition. You’ve served me well. I’ll ignore your insolence and answer you. Creating slayers exerts a lot of my energy. Even a being as powerful as me has their limits. Prior to the spike in demon activity caused by La’els idiotic pursuit, I believed them to be harmless enough to no longer need an entire order of slayers. Still, I required a way to combat the exceptions. That’s where you came in.

“So I’m the only demon slayer?”

Yes

He was relieved. Melek lamented the possibility of there being others like him. Grieving souls who fell prey to Lucius’ schemes. “Since I’ve been such a loyal pet, how about you answer one more question: Who killed my brother?”

A demon killed your friend—

“Brother.”

There was a long pause. I see. La’el must have informed you of my methods. What I said is true. A demon killed your brother, but I orchestrated his murder.

Melek’s face flushed with anger. “You fucking—”

You, like every previous slayer, possessed the potential, but lacked an incentive. I understand humans enough to know that emotions drive your actions. His death was a great motivator.

“The night Robby came to me in a dream and asked me to avenge him—”

A necessary form of deception. Vengeance and hate are incredible tools. To truly instill them in you, his likeness was required.

“How can you be okay with manipulating people like that? With killing an innocent person? Robby was good!”

Think of the countless number of lives you’ve saved. Is the death of one person worth more than all of them?

“I quit.”

I hope you remember the consequences of reneging on—

“Fuck this, and fuck you. I quit!”

Very well.

Melek awoke more exhausted than the night before. A dull pain spread throughout his body, and his head ached.

He sat up and flinched, almost letting out a yelp as Anastasia loomed above his bed with her bottom lip quivering.

“You were talking in your sleep and I got scared. I didn’t know what to do.”

Melek lied back down. “And you thought standing over me like a psycho would fix the problem?”

“Don’t be mean. I was actually worried.”

It was hard to believe that this was the same Anastasia he had saved all those years ago. The same woman who aggressively refused to let him slip into the bottomless pit of solitude. The woman who pledged to be the friend she always wished she had. “Sorry. I appreciate you worrying about me, but I’m fine. I do need help with one thing, though. How do you write a resume?”

She sat at the foot of his twin sized bed. Her messy hair fell to her shoulders, and her rainbow colored pajamas contrasted against Melek’s bare room. “Not again. I told you not to worry about money. Just focus on—”

“I quit.”

She gasped, clutching at her chest. “But the contract. What happens now?”

“Now I live my life, I guess. I doubt I would have been a good father anyway.”

“That smiley faced dickhead took away your ability to have kids?”

“It’s okay. My childhood sucked. My dad’s childhood sucked. And I bet even his dad went through it. A part of me believed that I was destined to repeat the cycle. As if something in my blood repelled the possibility of a happy family life.”

Anastasia shot up. “I’m going to get you some food. You’re talking nonsense.”

Melek grabbed her hand. “But you put my fears to bed. You taught me that family is more than blood.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me.” She squeezed his hand. “A family of two, huh?” She belted out that awkward laugh of hers. “Okay. Sounds good to me. Now then, what would our little one eyed freeloader like to eat?”

“What time is it?” he asked as he headed toward his closet.

“About a quarter till.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that? A quarter till what?”

“Ten,” she mumbled. “I miss when you were babbling in your sleep.”

Melek yanked his closet doors open and reached behind his clothes hamper, grabbing his old portable CD player. He recalled Robby’s crooked smile as he inspected its faded black and gold casing. I bet this still works.

He turned his attention to his collection of all black attire, feeling as if he was staring into the abyss. “Mall opens at nine, right? We can get food there. I think it’s about time I add some color to my wardrobe.”

***

Summer almost wept as she felt the weight of returning to her physical form.

Moments ago, Connor and she were entwined in an infinite dance. Two beings of light sharing an experience of pure intimacy. Then, she suddenly came crashing down.

To make matters worse, she was surrounded by the familiar sights of her high school cafeteria. Her school colors of crimson and white decorated the walls. Posters of has-been celebrities wearing milk mustaches awoke a forgotten rage within her as she recalled the monotony of being a student.

Connor was beside her, looking as handsome as ever. His muscles tensed as he scanned the environment. “You’re seeing this too, right?”

“How did we end up here? I feel like we’re in a shared nightmare.”

“Yeah, I can’t—”

Summer released a piercing shriek as a golden being appeared before them, donning a cloak of the same color. This creature’s face was smooth and featureless, like a gleaming canvas of gold.

The creature began roaring in laughter, almost to the point of keeling over.

“No way,” Connor said. “Victor? Oh no, don’t tell me La’el—”

“Don’t worry,” Victor said, somehow speaking without a mouth. “We took care of him.”

Summer studied Victor, baffled by his bizarre appearance. “How did we get here? But more importantly, what’s up with the outfit?”

“Like it? Apparently, this is my Ensolian form.”

Summer met Connor’s confused gaze. “It’s… interesting,” Connor said.

Summer followed his lead. “Yeah, that’s the word.”

“I personally feel cheated,” Victor said. “I expected to be a building sized badass creature, not some dude in a Halloween costume.”

In the blink of an eye, Victor transformed into an adult version of the teenager they once knew. As if someone had groomed the La’el they met in Covington.

“You’re looking at the new overseer of Hell.”

“Congratulations!” Summer yelled.

“Hold on,” Connor said. “Is that good news?”

“I don’t know yet,” Victor said. “But I’ll be interacting with a lot of horrible souls, so I made a deal. La’el was exposed to the harshest side of humanity, and that distorted his perception, poisoning him. I refuse to lose myself like that, so every once in a while, we are going to share a meal together. Some good to balance out the influx of bad.”

Summer felt a rush of anxiety. “Are we in Hell right now?”

“Of course not.”

“Could have fooled me,” Connor said.

Victor raised his hands. “This is my personal zone. A pocket dimension under my complete control. Pretty cool, right?”

Connor folded his arms. “You could have recreated any place, and you chose our high school cafeteria? Seriously?”

“I’ll pick a new locale next time, asshole.”

“It’s perfect,” Summer said.

“Trevor may join us one day,” Victor said. “But he refused my invitation. He felt guilty over accidentally killing that man, so he volunteered to spend some time in Hell.”

Trevor, under all the boisterousness, was a genuine softy. Summer knew that man’s death ate at him. “I wondered why we hadn’t met him yet.”

“I made sure to get him some time with his mother,” Victor added.

“I hope he finds peace,” Connor said. “Now, are we going to eat or what?”

“Right,” Victor said.

Two packages of blueberry pop tarts, an apple, and a roll of paper towels materialized atop a nearby table.

Connor inspected the Pop-tart’s nutritional information. “I haven’t had one of these in ages.”

Summer took a bite of her apple. “Honey crisp!”

“Bon-appetite,” Victor said as he began unwrapping the packaging. He carefully broke away pieces of the crust and placed them on an empty paper towel.

Summer and Connor shared a mocking glance.

Victor paused. “What?”

“Nothing,” Connor said. “Hey, Summer. Remember when we fought those cyborg pterodactyls a few years back?”

Summer stifled a giggle. “Oh yeah. That was really—“

Victor sighed. “Please shut up.”

Summer burst into laughter. Pieces of chewed up apple flew across the table.