He ran from them, trying to dodge bullets as best he could. The scientists called out in panic and alarm, pulling out weapons they used against rogue subjects. He knew what this place was, understood now why the nurses called the place the Human Ward. 

There was a demon, much older and stronger than him, though of a different kind, that had been slaughtered, left cut open on an operating table. Vials, tubes and the heady smell of formaldehyde choking the room. Parts of his essence were put aside and labelled. In cages around them, there were humans, some whimpering in confused fear while others had their eyes rolled into the back of their heads, foaming at the mouth and slavering through the bars. The human experiments snapped and growled at him, trying to draw him closer to attack with their deformed hands and split nails, jagged and sharp. Some had gotten as far as developing some of the claws - unique to each demon breed - but had impaled themselves on them in a desperate lack of self-awareness, mutilating themselves because of their claustrophobic confinement. 

That was when he felt the bullets pierce his back.

He dropped to his knees, hands on his chest coming back white with his blood. 

The scientist grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. "See him? We killed him and it won't take us much to kill a yearling like you."

The black ink of his war lines crept around his body, but the scientist didn't care. There was a thick burning in his eyes. He gathered the power of the lines in the centre of his chest, letting the grey energy throw the scientists back into their creations. Some of the humans - untainted - screamed in terror and blindness. 

Thick grey fog took over the room, but his footsteps echoed loudly in it. He stopped in the doorway, breathing in deeply once, the mist dissipating quickly. 

White fur coated his back, his right hand sporting two long, black talons from his index and middle fingers. His war lines had strapped themselves in a netted pattern across his upper body. His hair, too, looked as if someone in agony had torn through it. 

The power he exuded made the mindless slaves halt their ravenous behaviour and shrink back.

"Try."

Daesung's apartment door was open and the place was empty of the things Daesung valued most. The keys were on the table by the door with a note to the landlady that he would not be coming back, next to a stack of money. 

"." Seungri breathed. He had thought he'd made it close, being able to catch Daesung at his apartment because the man's vehicle was still there. But, he supposed, the other man was a demon and who knew what the full scope of their abilities really were. "Damnit, Daesung! Where the have you gone?!"

"You're looking for Daesung?"

He turned to a man in a black suit standing outside another apartment door. 

"Yeah, I am."

"I could take you to him."

Seungir looked him up and down. "Why would you?"

He shrugged. "He looked distressed. If you're a friend, maybe you can help him."

"Okay then. Lead on, stranger." 

He turned to look into Daesung's apartment one last time, felt a hard connection to the back of his head, then collapsed.