Taehyung POV

"FUHUCK." I grab onto my left shoulder, wincing in pain as I stumble back. These walls weren't breaking, and my power wasn't working. You can't imagine the anger and frustration I was feeling right now as I slam myself against the walls again, hoping to break, crack or do *something*.

I'd fought so fking hard to escape the Angels throughout my entire rule as Aamon, from the damned Seraphim, to Hael, the Localities and now this.

I scream in frustration, kicking the wall before me with my foot. I was supposed to be Aamon, Guardian of the Forty Legions of Heaven and Hell, Seer of the Past and Future, Protector of Souls. Yet the only thing I'd done throughout my rule was run for my life with my tail between my legs and be everyone's punching bag. The Parliament was forcing me to do shiit I didn't want to do, Courts were making me do shiit I didn’t want to do, Hell was making me do shiit I didn't want to do, and now Heaven too?! Why couldn't I take a break?! Why couldn't I just sit my down on a shiny throne and sign contracts the entire day?

I was being held hostage in HEAVEN, of all places. Who the Hell gets held against their will here? Granted I'd said I would come, but that consent was literally made under duress. Agreements made under duress are not binding and I know because Jin said so!

I kick the wall one more time for good measure. It does nothing and at this point I know it does nothing, but I do it anyway. It feels good.

"Are you done with your little tantrum?"

I whirl around, instinctively calling on to my power and momentarily panicking when I feel nothing.

"Don't bother. The cell is designed to contain the Aamon's power. It was made just for you."

"Who are you?" I seethe, staring at the man who studies me like an exhibition at a museum.

"I think you know who I am," he answers, voice calm and level as he stares me down.

"Does everyone in the Hereafter speak in riddles?" I bite back.

And that makes him twitch, as a semblance of an amused smile plays on his lips.

"Your attitude is understandable - though I must say slightly childish. Many souls would sacrifice great things in order to get a chance to be in Heaven."

"I'd offer them a trade."

"You do not speak like an Aamon."

"The way I speak is exactly the way an Aamon would speak because I *am* the Aamon."

"Touche," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone.

I take three steps forward towards him, before I am forcefully halted when I slam against an invisible wall hard enough that I bounce back.

"Ow!" I scream, closing my eyes and clutching my nose. "What the FU-"

"Language, Fifth Aamon. Be aware that entities here do not have my endurance to profanity."

I crack an eye open to look at him staring very regally at me. I hadn't realised the transparent wall between us, though in my defence, it literally looked invisible.

"You never answered my question," I say, straightening as I rub gingerly at the bridge of my nose. I really like my nose. "Who are you?"

"And I have already answered your question. You know who I am."

I let my hands fall to the side and let my annoyance show on my face. I stare him down to let him know that I wasn't in the mood to play around.

"I told you I -"

The man before me blinks, in a totally natural and languid manner. But the movement makes me shift my attention to his eyes and I catch the ring of colour surrounding his hazel irises.

Gold.

Just like mine.

"You're an Aamon," I breathe, the shock literally taking my breath away.

And for the first time in the two minutes that I've known him, he smiles.

I don't mean to be rude but I would appreciate that he not. There is an underlying hint of danger in that smile.

"Welcome to Heaven, Fifth Aamon. I am Pakal, the Fourth."

"The Fourth Aamon's name was Ezekiel," I point out, after wasting a good minute just staring at the guy. He didn't...*look* like an Aamon. Well technically, I've never seen an Aamon other than myself but somehow I'd always envisioned Aamons to be... white. This was obviously colonialism at its peak because I for one am not even white, but I squint my eyes at the person before me all the same.

"Ezekiel is but a titular name. My birth name is Pakal."

"Why?"

"I am Aztec."

I didn't really get the point he was trying to get across but I drop the subject. He did look Mexican, though I'm briefly aware that the Aztec empire ruled thousands of years ago. His clothes are... traditional? He's dressed in all white, just like me, but his attire somehow reflects the period of time he lived in. Feathered headdress for one thing, face paint for another. And hair that fell to his waist. Also he wasn't wearing a shirt, but a ceremonial... skirt? Maybe this was appropriate for the culture of his time.

Jin was right. I needed to read up more.

"If you really are Ezekiel, then me being Aamon is all your fault."

"I don't see why," he answers, barely blinking.

"You purposely made the power breeze past your trained initiates!" I point out.

"I did. But I didn't know who it would choose."

"My life literally turned upside down because of you!"

"It's called excitement."

"It's called almost dying!"

"But you didn't."

"My soul just got ripped out of my body and I'm being held against my will. This pretty much counts as being dead!"

Ezekiel - or Pakal, whatever his name was, God forbid - rolls his eyes. "You're really emotional for an Aamon."

"Well, HELL, maybe it's because I'm untrained! Someone just *had* to die before I became Aamon and didn't even have the decency to visit in spirit?! Or maybe write a book as a guide?! Or maybe whisper messages to the wind?!"

It honestly felt pretty good screaming at this dude claiming to be the Fourth Aamon. Granted, even if he was the Fourth Aamon, it wouldn’t change the fact that I was – in fact – a pretty terrible Aamon myself.

"Do you honestly know how long I've been stumbling around? How many people I've failed to save? How many times I lost control of my powers and caused destruction all around me? Do you even care?!"

And a violent stab of power hits me, making me wince as I step back and clutch at my head.

"What the -"

"Careful," I hear Pakal - I still couldn't quite believe that he was Ezekiel - say in a voice that has dropped down to a whisper. "You are still the reigning Aamon. Losing yourself even in Heaven will endanger the peace around you."

I look up. True enough, the stark white walls all around me have darkened to stormy grey and I'm pretty sure I hear the rumble of thunder.

"Is... is that me?" I murmur. Great. I was already burdened with keeping my emotions in check on Earth and Hell, now Heaven must have me on my toes too. I really had no day off.

"No. It is what little control there is left here in Heaven."

Ezekiel raises his hands, resting his fingertips against the invisible wall between us. His eyes suddenly glow a bright white before violent cracks appear all over the wall.

"Step back," he commands, voice layered with power. I do as told, just as the wall explodes, the shards flying everywhere as I cover myself. I look up when I feel the shards stop raining on me, realizing that even the walls of the room have faded away and I'm just left staring at a vast empty space.

"Whoa."

"Come," Pakal orders, turning around and walking away as he speaks. "Best we get out of here."

"Won't the Angels realise that I'm gone?"

"Of course they will," Pakal answers, not even glancing at me. "Do they care? No. They know you as an untrained will still be stuck here despite."

Wow. Talk about a way to throw an insult.

I jog after him, realizing I don't really have anything to lose.

"Where are we heading?"

"Somewhere safer than this."

And then, right then, incredibly, a door materializes out of thin air before us. It wasn't there before and now it's just... there?

Pakal doesn't even pause in step, grabbing the doorknob and swinging the door open before he walks through.

"Hurry, Aamon!"

I heed, breaking into a run. The door slams close behind me, before being swallowed by the walls and disappearing altogether.

I blink, staring at the wall.

"Where did you learn spells like that?" I ask, turning to face Pakal again. The guy was still walking - away from me. I start to catch up to him.

"Spells?" He repeats, glancing over his shoulder at me. "I don't do spells."

"Then how did it -"

"The Aamon has power in the Hereafter, remember?"

"Oh," is all I can afford to say, because I honestly don't? I didn’t have much control in Hell save for some fire, and I doubt I would have the same in Heaven as well.

I stay quiet then, realizing that we were walking down a really, really long and narrow hallway with doors lining the walls every few feet.

"This... is Heaven?" I unintentionally murmur out loud. I couldn't help the disappointment in my voice as I stare at door after door after door. Heaven was deada$$ boring.

"This is Headquarters, where all the work gets done," Pakal corrects. "Heaven for spirits is different."

I turn my focus to Pakal, who seems to walk like he knows exactly where he's going. I couldn't, honestly. Each door looked exactly the same as the next, and there was no number or symbol to distinguish them.

"Each door contains a different Heaven," Pakal explains, as if he can hear the thoughts in my head. "Each one contains the Heaven of one soul."

"...do dogs go to Heaven?"

The question makes Pakal stop, and he turns around to fully face me. "...dogs?"

I nod. It was a question that had been on my mind since I watched Hachiko and well, since I was already here, I figured I might as well ask.

"There are dogs in individual Heavens specifically requested by souls, but a sole Heaven for dogs... I'm not sure."

"Individual Heavens?" I repeat, as Pakal turns around and starts walking again. I instinctively follow.

"Sure. Every individual has their own definition of Heaven. If it was the same for everyone, then it wouldn't be Heaven now, would it?"

I find myself nodding. That made sense - a little.

Pakal stops walking after a few minutes, turning to the door on his right. He reaches into his feathered headdress, pulls out a fking KEY, and inserts it into the lock.

"Whose Heaven is that?"

"The Third."

"The Third?"

"Aamon."

"Why?"

I guess Pakal grew sick of my questions, and he steps right through the door. Again, I blindly follow suit.

And find myself smacked in the face by a branch full of leaves. What the Hell?

"Is that him?"

"....I guess."

"He looks so young."

"I heard he is seventeen."

"Eighteen this year," I correct, groaning as I push the branch out the way. I gingerly step over a root or two, before glancing up to see a Middle Eastern-looking lady dressed in a toga staring at me. I blink, pausing in my footsteps. Pakal is a small distance away, seated at a round little marble table, sipping tea from a cup that was probably the height of my pinky finger.

Nothing was making sense anymore.

"Hi," I say blankly as I stare up at her. She is *really* tall. Maybe a whole foot taller than me.

The wary look on her face disappears just like that, and she smiles. I had to take a mental step back at that, because she is *stunning*. I've travelled the globe in my past as a member of BTS and have seen my fair share of beauties, but the one I stare up at is at the threat of knocking me out.

She tilts her head slightly in amusement, her green eyes - ringed with the identifiable gold - standing out from the kohl lined around them. Her nose is hooked and her lips plump as she seemed to *breathe* grace and poise.

"Hello," she answers. "Won't you join Pakal and I for tea?"

This was ridiculous.

This was wholly, incredibly, ridiculously ridiculous. I'd just had my stronghold of a hotel room attacked, saw Jungkook get stabbed, fought some Angels alongside my bodyguards and vampires, got forcefully dragged to Heaven and now that I'm here, I'm drinking tea??

It was good tea, without a doubt but my brain could not handle much nonsense any longer.

"More tea?"

"No thank you," I murmur.

"I suppose you have a lot of questions," the lady hums, as she places the teapot to the side. She looked graceful even handling a *teapot*.

I nod my head warily.

"Before you start, allow me the privilege of introducing myself. My name is Sobekneferu. I am the Third Aamon. You've been acquainted with Pakal, I'm sure."

I nod again.

"Are you aware of where you are?"

I nod my head. "Heaven."

"You look like you're in shock."

Maybe I was, I think to myself. This was a little..... too much.

"A bit."

She smiles again, turning to Pakal. "Remember the first time your soul went to Heaven?"

"I freaked," Pakal says.

"Very badly."

"I nearly killed an Angel."

"You were understandably livid," Sobekneferu nods.

I blink, as she turns to me. "Pakal's death was due to one of his initiates poisoning him, did you know?"

I nod, as Pakal laments out loud. "Made it through three millenia of ruling, only to be defeated by cyanide."

I blink again. "Why couldn't you detect the cyanide?"

"I had a habit, you see," Pakal starts, as he crosses his legs and rests his elbow against the armrest of his seat. "I would dip my amulet that I wore around my neck into every drink before consumption. It was a charm, of sorts. Hence my drinks would always taste slightly of metal."

"Someone dipped your amulet in poison," I mutter.

"Smart," Pakal chuckles. "And I dipped my amulet in the drink. Bam! Three thousand years gone. Wasted."

"Were you.... angry?"

At that, Sobekneferu laughs.

"Anger wouldn't even begin to cover it."

"I raged," Pakal continues, eyes lighting up from his story. "For three whole nights, until the Angels agreed to fulfil one last favour."

"To have the power choose someone not from your group of initiates."

"Very smart!" Pakal cheers. "Aaaaand it landed on you."

"Thanks for that," I mutter, wholly unamused.

And his smile softens, looking at me the same way an amused father would a child. "How long will you fume about it?"

"As long as I want," I bite back. I know I was being irrational, and I knew I was being unfair. But I needed to be angry for just a little bit - just to get it off my chest.

"I apologize," Pakal starts, "for wanting the power to bypass my trained initiates. I couldn't risk the amount of corruption going on and I couldn't know who would be the next Aamon for fear that the Parliament would kill you if they got wind of it."

"....*would* they kill me?"

"If they know they couldn't control you? Without a doubt. Why do you think the Seraphim were after you?"

I am quiet at that. "It doesn't matter anymore. The Aaamon's Court got destroyed in the battle against Beelzebub. All the initiates are dead."

"We heard," the both of them say.

"So you know what happened?"

"As Aamons, we are regularly updated," Sobekneferu says.

"Well I guess you won’t have to worry about corruption in our Court." A painful stab hits my heart as I look away. I feel my own anger rising again. This would be something that I'd have to live with for the rest of my life. The knowledge that these people, without even knowing me, had died for me. That due to my own inability to return to Earth, due to my own incompetence, they'd had to sacrifice their lives just for my safety.

I feel Sobekneferu reach out as she places a hand against mine and squeezes. I look up at her just as she gives a reassuring smile.

I pull my hand away. "So forgive me for my anger," I continue. "But be aware that it is warranted."

There is momentary silence between the three of us as I stare at my drink.

"No rule comes with simplicity," Sobekneferu starts. "Each one with sacrifice. Before I was Pharaoh of Egypt, I saw my own family members kill those amongst us just to ascend to the throne. My own husband became victim, and then my young child. I rose to the throne, and in retaliation, killed them all. I ruled over Egypt pregnant - as the sole surviving member of my family."

I feel my eyes widen as I stare up at her. She smiles demurely in return, placing her teacup down.

"Then when I became an Aamon-initiate, I had to leave everything behind - my child, my throne, my kingdom. I trained hard to be Aamon. I ascended after only three years of training. I thought I was doing the greater good, until I rejected an order by the Parliament."

"What was the order?"

"They wanted me to guarantee a particular soul's place in Heaven. I would do no such thing. The Aamon does not alter fate - particularly not for monetary gain. For that, I was executed."

"I remember that," Pakal murmurs. "You were executed publicly by Crucifixion- and then displayed right outside the initiate headquarters as a warning to others."

"That's sick," I whisper.

"It was the way it was," Sobekneferu hums, sipping her tea again. "No ruler will have an easy life, Fifth Aamon. Continuously looking back will not allow you to move forward."

I fall quiet.

"Truth be told, Fifth Aamon," Pakal starts. "You did the initiates a favour. The Parliament started taking in initiates at much earlier ages after I ascended as Aamon. I became an initiate at thirty. Once I came into power at thirty seven, the initiates started coming in at toddler ages, the oldest being six, I think. I have a feeling the Parliament did this on purpose to brainwash the initiates to heed their commands. Those initiates are unable to think for themselves. They only live to serve, as they have been nurtured to."

I feel the goosebumps run up my spine. If whatever they were saying was true, then I was lucky I wasn't an initiate.

"You were Aamon for over three thousand years. What happened to the initiates who outgrew you?"

"Nothing," Pakal answers. "Initiates train until they either die, or ascend to be Aamon."

"So that would be their whole life then? Just being around the Aamon and learning?"

"Initiates are never allowed to leave the Court for fear of their powers going awry. They either become bodyguards of the reigning Aamon, or teachers to the newly elected."

"Wow."

"It is not a life one would want to live," Sobekneferu murmurs.

She was right.

"Has Azazel not taught you this?"

I shake my head at her question.

"It is not his fault, Neferu," Pakal reminds her. He turns to me. "Azazel came to me twice throughout my rule. The first, a request to join him in a revolution, and the second to care for the young newly chosen initiate - you. I regret that my cowardice and fear of the Parliament made me say no. Azazel was never exposed to the politics and ways of the Aamon's Court. The Parliament was much too secretive to reveal anything - even to the Rulers of Heaven and Hell."

"He didn't know about the Parliament," I repeat.

"No one did. That was how talented they were."

It suddenly seems like I owe Pakal a favour for rejecting to take me in when Jin brought me to him. I couldn't imagine me being as blind and as deaf a person as the initiates.

"What will... what will the Angels do now that I'm in Heaven?"

"There will be a canonization ceremony as planned," Sobekneferu says, gently stirring her cup of tea. "After that, your trial will be held."

"...My trial?"

"To determine whether or not you are still fit to be Aamon."

"And if they deem me not?"

"Then your physical body will be killed. You will be made to stay here forever."

I grip the armrest of my seat, my anger rising again. "I refuse to stay." I have a lot going down for me on Earth. I had a lot of people I wanted to see, and a lot of people waiting for me. I couldn't die. "I refuse to die."

"We know," Pakal says. "We know what awaits you on Earth."

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "I know I'm not a fit Aamon and I mess up during my rule a lot. But let me learn. Let me improve. I still want to live on Earth."

I look up to the both of them, seeing their calculative eyes stare back at me.

"You know, Taehyung," Pakal starts. It is the first time he's addressed me by my name. "You did not ascend in the best of conditions. I wish I had an opportunity to train you, but I didn't. You have been Aamon for six months now. I am aware it hasn't been easy, but you undermine yourself far too much."

At that Sobekneferu nods. "You have made significant improvement and change to our rules. You have the freedom to move, to not be bound by your Court, and with that your powers flourish exponentially."

"Yes," Pakal agrees. "You have the advantage of not being bound by anything - or anyone. Usually freehold power on one individual would be a cause for worry. But with you... I think not."

I blink at that.

"Adam has said this before," he continues. "You are empathetic and selfless, incredibly so. You may not be clever or wise, but your common sense and logic is strong. Hence even if you mess up in your rule from time to time - which from what I've seen, is not that often - we don't really worry. Because as a person, you are the best candidate to rule."

I shake my head. "You overestimate me. I've done stupid, selfish things."

"If by selfish, you mean demanding that Azazel stay by your side, then you are not." I shift my focus to Sobekneferu, who has her hands placed on her lap. "You are doing him a very large favour, Aamon. Believe me."

I frown. "How?"

"You are humanizing him," she answers. "And this will be his saving grace."

I blink, before turning away. I really, really wasn't in the mood for riddles.

"What do you want from me? Why have you brought me here?" I turn to the both of them, taking a moment to look them in the eye. "What favour do you want me to fulfill?"

That seems to throw them off, as they look back at me blankly.

"Taehyung, you are not here to fulfill any favours," Pakal starts. "You are here because we wanted to help you."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I've ruled long enough to know that any help rendered expects a favour in return."

That makes Pakal crack a smile, though Sobekneferu looks wholly unamused and insulted.

"As I've said," Pakal chuckles. "You have a lot of common sense."

"We reached out to you because we wanted to help you," Sobekneferu counters. "The only way we could reach you was if you came to Heaven and we took the opportunity we saw."

"And now I'm here," I answer. "What do you want?"

"There are no favours, Taehyung," Pakal speaks up this time, looking thoroughly amused. "Scout's Honour - or whatever it is the Colonizers call it."

Sobekneferu whirls around to face him. "Pakal! How can you act so normally at the child's words?"

"He is a fast learner, Neferu. His caution will do him good." Pakal shifts his focus to me again. "You were right to assume what you did. But not today. It has always been the Aamon's responsibility to train his successor, and nothing should relieve them of that duty, not even death."

"What."

At that, Pakal breaks out into a grin. "You're here because we want to train you."

"This is stupid."

"It's only stupid because you feel stupid. I don't feel stupid. Hence, I am not stupid."

I blink my eyes at that. Pakal's logic astounds me at times.

I decide that trying to decode and understand every word from Pakal and Sobekneferu's mouth was only going to cause me a headache, so I change the subject.

"So how did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Rule for three thousand years."

At that, Pakal cracks an eye open. Seeing the look on my face, he opens both eyes and pauses his meditation, letting his body relax.

"I wasn't the best ruler," he confesses. "I did what I had to do, mostly because I had no choice. I was trained to be the Aamon, and when I was Aamon, I was trained to not question the Parliament. I managed to rule for so long because I was a good puppet."

I uncross my legs. Following Pakal's movements was only cramping them up.

"Where they really that bad?"

"Who?"

"The Parliament."

He chuckles then, shaking his head as he stands. I automatically copy, as he starts stretching, arms raised high above his head and shifting his weight forward on one foot.

"I don't understand how this is training," I mutter, nearly teetering off balance as I struggle to stand on one foot.

"The first lesson every initiate learns, is that of patience. It may not seem so, but patience is an extremely powerful weapon. It allows the initiate to learn to clear their mind and strengthen their focus - lessening the chances of the power going awry and letting them see through the mess of the emotional mind."

"I don't," I breathe, as Pakal changes position and I struggle to follow. "Have." I wobble again as I shift my position. "The time. For this!"

Pakal doesn't even flinch. "If you cannot learn to calm yourself, then you will never calm the power."

I curse under my breath, but hold my tongue.

"And no. The Parliament was never that bad. They were strict because they knew what was on the line and they were good at their job. You can't afford many mistakes when you have the powers of Heaven and Hell at your fingertips."

Well that made sense.

"They must be really dedicated to their job if they wanted to kill me so bad."

"To them, you are replaceable," Pakal continues. "When one Aamon dies, another takes his or her place. Rinse and repeat. What they couldn't risk however, is the delicate balance of the three worlds. That's why Aamons and initiates are always to their specification. They know what they're doing."

"If they're so good, how come *they* don't become Aamons?"

"Because they are mere advisors to ensure the Aamon doesn't go wild."

I stay quiet for a while, relaxing my posture as Pakal finishes a particularly weird yoga pose.

"Just how powerful is an Aamon?"

"Wouldn't you, as an Aamon, already know?"

I shrug. "I can't control my powers well. The only thing I use are bursts of Hell's flames. Show me more than that."

I see Pakal consider for a moment, before he stands, squirming his limbs out of the pose that had to be incredibly uncomfortable.

"Okay," he says. "I'll show you a trick."

And he flexes his shoulders, making those disgusting popping sounds that were his joints cracking before he makes a throwing motion with his left hand. *Something* is produced from the palm of his hand, a small, white ball of light that is sent flying from the force of the throw. It hurtles across the sky not unlike a shooting star, before it literally slams into a mountain far off in the distance with enough force to blow the entire thing to smithereens. The force of the entire explosion clears the forest floor, the aftershock it brought nearly blowing me off my feet.

"Whoa," I manage to murmur after steadying myself.

"I had over three thousand years to practice," I hear Pakal say, "but the powers of Heaven are much more versatile than you can imagine."

"How long did it take you to master it?"

"Decades," Pakal confesses.

"Jin told me that I was using the powers of Hell too much. That it was turning into a poison destroying my body. I need to learn to at least use the power of Heaven to counter the poison."

Pakal nods, understanding.

"Many initiates go through the same problem. Hell is a much easier power to control than Heaven."

I'm glad that I at least wasn't the only one.

"Though experiencing it to your extent is uncommon."

Well, damn. So much for similarity.

"But I don't blame you. Your relationship with Azazel was toxic for your body and the power."

I blink at that, mentally backtracking.

"Wait, what??"

"It was toxic," Pakal easily repeats, turning to me, his hands on his hips. "Your relationship."

"Jin and I were never in a relationship."

His eyebrows come together towards the middle and he literally looks like he had some serious gears turning in his head.

"Huh," he finally murmurs, now looking uninterested. "During my time, your intimacy would be considered marriage."

I literally feel the blood rush up to my cheeks as I stutter, *trying* to say something in defense.

‎"Whatever it is between the two of you, it is not my business. But know this, Taehyung." The look in his eyes hardens, and it is almost as if the ring of gold surrounding his irises intensifies. "Azazel is a demon, son of Lucifer, Heir to the Kingdom of Hell. I won't tell you to not be associated with him, but any union between the two of you will only end in destruction - either of Earth or the Afterlife."

‎I am quiet, staring at him. There isn't much I could say - much that I *can* say. It wasn't the first warning I've been given of Jin, and it probably won't be the last.

‎"Why," I say, aware that I was starting to sound defensive.

‎"Because that is the prophecy." Pakal is all serious, and the ice in his eyes, reflected in his expression, makes me hide a shudder. "Neferu disagrees with me on this, but I have been Aamon for far longer than both of you. You think you can change him, but you cannot change his fate. Azazel supporting your Court alters the powers of Hell. He is your natural enemy. Not only is he going against his nature to help you, he is risking his place in Hell."

‎"Jin doesn't want a place in Hell." I attempt to argue. "He's happier being as far away from that place as possible."

‎"It is where he belongs," Pakal counters. "Take a fish out of water and the fish will die."

‎Stunned, I fall quiet again.

‎Was I... Was I killing Jin? Was this why he only seemed to be getting weaker the longer he was with me?

‎"Aamon."

‎I glance over my shoulder, immediately whirling around when I see Sobekneferu throwing something at me. I catch it before I even register what it is.

‎I glance at my hand. A deck of cards and a pack of marbles. I look up at Sobekneferu.

‎"Training."

‎I blink. What?

"RUUUUUN!" Pakal screeches, as I dodge the ball of piercing white light that flies over my head. It hits the ground a distance away and ceremoniously explodes, the sheer force of it making debris rain down on me.

I don't waste time brushing myself off, pushing myself off the ground and make a break for it.

Not to say I wasn't used to this level of training, but wow, Sobekneferu seemed to really want me dead.

I call onto my power, feeling the sluggish response. I don't have the time to even concentrate, pushing the power into the card into my hand and throwing the glowing thing towards Sobekneferu. The weak force of the throw makes the card fly only a small distance, before it explodes nowhere near her.

"Fck," I murmur to myself.

The powers of Heaven simply wasn't responding to me as well as I wanted them to. I was tempted, in all honesty, to just call on to Hell, but I refrained myself from doing so.

Jin had called on to his inherited Holy powers in Hell and the pure strength of it had been enough to kill a whole army of demons, as well as collapse a portal powered by a being that controlled eight Circles of Hell. I wouldn't want to know what the powers of Hell would do to a place as Holy as this.

"Concentrate, Fifth Aamon," Sobekneferu says, barely even breaking a sweat despite the amount of power she was producing.

"On what?" I bite back.

"Not dying."

Easy for her to say.

She suddenly extends an arm out, lifting it upwards. The ground around me shakes, and I lower my center of gravity to steady myself. What the Hell?

I am suddenly violently thrown upwards as the ground below hurls me with the force and ferocity of being thrown out a cannon.

I instinctively grab on empty air, aware that that was technically useless.

"Stop letting yourself panic, Taehyung!" Pakal yells as I frantically grab a marble from my pocket. "Let the power flow through you!"

Again, I call on to the power, swallowing the panic of freefalling and slamming into the ground. As Pakal had said, I let the power flow, stopping myself from controlling it and slamming as much of it into the marble.

That fails spectacularly well, when the marble explodes in my hand. I guess it couldn't take the amount of power I was forcing into it.

The ground was coming up, heading nearer and nearer as my mind scrambles. Shhit, shhit, shhit.

I see from my peripheral vision Pakal move forward, throwing his hand up. The ground I am about to slam against suddenly moves, rising like a wave. I blink, just as I fall into it and it catches me like a baseball mitt.

Wow. Just like landing on a pillow.

The soil suddenly collapses and I am left lying against flat ground as I stare up at the sky.

I am winded both from the throw and the intensity of the battle. I wonder if the initiates had it this bad.

My view of the sky is suddenly blocked when Pakal and Sobekneferu stare down at me.

"You alright?" Pakal prompts.

"Alive," I gasp.

"Good," Sobekneferu says. "Round two."

Damn it.

"I didn't expect Round Two to be like this."

"Would you rather it be like Round One?"

"No," I quickly answer, as I stare at Sobekneferu. "But what are you doing?"

The Third Aamon has her hands on my cheeks, staring unflinchingly into my eyes as Pakal stands a distance away.

"Back when I was an initiate - a long, long time ago, I had the same problems as you. An uneasy mind."

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeats, chuckling softly. It is the first time I've seen her laugh, though it's saddening that it looks so insincere. "I saw my own family slaughter each other. I was always afraid I'd be next. To be wary of others became my instinctive defense - and that inhibited the flow of power."

"I'm not wary of people," I argue.

"Consciously, maybe not. But you are not at peace. Anyway, my trainer, the Second Aamon, the Great Enheduanna taught me one thing - and I taught the same to Pakal."

"Which is?"

"To break the walls of the mind."

"Wha-"

The sentence dies in my throat as I physically feel someone invading my mind. In fact, 'invading' would be an understatement. Someone was straight up inciting war.

The pain that shoots through me threatens to split me in half and I feel myself mentally go up in arms.

But with what?

I had no offense when it came to my mind - only shields that Jin had taught me to strengthen over time. But this invasion had straight up breezed right through.

I bite back a scream as I feel myself gripping on to Sobekneferu's wrists. I physically 'feel' the power go through every section of my mind - dissecting through thoughts and memories, going deeper and deeper as each attack sought to only hit me with a new wave of pain.

My own memories flash before my eyes, everything going backwards like a video played in reverse.

Memories I'd pushed back in order to survive - in order to not fall into insanity -began to resurface.

I saw myself fighting the Angels, then I see myself running for my life. I see myself at the coronation. I see an explosion that rocks a building as a Seraphim destroys it with one swipe of its sword. I hear the screams, see the blood shed and panic. I see myself onstage, performing. I see my band members - my brothers. I see Jin and Jungkook. They're smiling. I see Hosoek - back when he was still alive. I see Namjoon. Then I see Yoongi whirl around and see the monstrosity of the Seraphim position itself to strike him.

I see Hosoek move. His Faerie blood makes him fast - faster than what we could anticipate he would do. He pushes Yoongi out the way - and then he is sliced swiftly in half. A premeditated explosion blows us clean off the stage - into the curtains that collapse on us. That turned out to be our saving grave because that blast had come from the crowd - and those that had survived the blast were destroyed by the Seraphim - which couldn't see us hidden beneath the curtains.

The memory falls away, replaced by the next. I am in the forest, tripping over roots and being smacked by tree branches. I'm running despite - laughing with Jungkook by my side. We've just escaped the Hunter's Court. We're on our way to freedom.

The memory falls away again. It was going to go deeper. It was going to sift through memories that would drive me insane.

Anger and panic rage through me.

No. I wasn't going to let Sobekneferu access those parts of me. I'd fought hard to keep them away.

I see myself as a young child. I'm screaming and crying as another body drops down at my feet, a hole at the back of its head spewing out pink junk. I see a familiar face run towards me as I lift my arms to be carried - only to have an arm wrap around my waist and grab me from behind.

I force myself back to the present, clamping down as I vaguely feel myself strengthening my grip on Sobekneferu's wrists. I had to fight back.

The explosion of power comes from within - an unrestrained, uncontrolled burst of power I use to lash out. It becomes tangible as it leaves me and slams straight into Sobekneferu.

I hear myself scream as I open my eyes to the sight of Sobekneferu being flung back. She catches herself, using her power to anchor herself to the ground before she is thrown any further.

I belatedly realise I'm panting - and my face is streaked with tears.

"Taehyung," I look up and see Pakal walking towards me, face concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." I'm shaking slightly as I wipe carelessly at my tears. "I'm fine."

He extends a hand and I accept as he pulls me to stand.

"We cannot train you." I turn to Sobekneferu, approaching as she lightly dusts herself down. I blink, taken off guard. "At this point, it would be nothing more than an impossibility."

"I'm sorry," I stutter, feeling myself panic. If the Aamons themselves couldn't train me, then who could? "I'm trying. I couldn't -"

She holds up a hand and I hold my tongue.

"Do not misunderstand me. We cannot teach you not because we refuse to. We know someone better."

And she shifts her gaze to Pakal, who only stares quietly back. It didn't look like I'd enjoy this.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Pakal muses as we walk down the infinite corridor again, passing by door after door. "Every individual has different learning capacity. You are still learning."

"What's wrong with me? Why can't you two train me?"

"It's not you, Taehyung. It is Sobekneferu and I. We are not equipped to train you."

"Why?"

"Because your mind is currently a very dangerous place. In order for you to perfect your power, you must first learn to calm it."

"...And you're not able to?"

And he glances at me, smiling gently. "Sobekneferu saw a lot of things in your mind - things that concern her. I trust her enough to agree with her, and you must learn to do the same. If you refuse to trust anyone, at least trust us."

"I don't even know you," I answer bluntly. "There are people I've known all my life who I won't even trust to put a bandage on me."

"I know," he patiently answers. "It is a difficult life for us Aamons. We must support each other where possible."

I say nothing at that, and we continue passing by doors down the narrow corridor.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"To see the Daddy of all Daddies."

"The what."

"Adam," Pakal says under his breath in such a way that it seemed like an unlucky omen.

I stop in my tracks, staring at him. "Adam? *The* Adam?"

Pakal nods. "The First Man - and the First Aamon."

"He doesn't hang with Sobekneferu and you?"

Pakal makes a signal for me to keep walking and I heed. He laughs at my statement. "Goodness, no! Adam is too powerful and respected to be amongst other souls. He rules from his own part of Heaven."

"That doesn't sound very positive," I murmur under my breath.

"Because it isn't," Pakal answers, apparently hearing what I said. "But Adam has been in power from the moment of his existence. He knows nothing more than to rule."

"That sounds... almost sad."

"It is very sad," Pakal agrees. "But it is the way it is. Adam would be a competent teacher."

He stops in his tracks and turns to his left to stare at the door he's facing. "Here it is," he whispers under his breath, almost cautiously. He takes the doorknob, twists it and pushes the door open. "Good luck."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're not coming?"

"Only those with purpose come to see Adam. I wouldn't be welcome."

I hesitate for a moment. This could all be one long, elaborate trap. Pakal and Sobekneferu could be Angels in disguise and I could be meeting my doom the moment I stepped through that door. I might be trapped here or worse - killed and totally stop existing.

But I needed Adam. I needed some sort of guidance - even if it might be a trap. I needed to take the risk.

I take a deep breath a step through the door.

The view immediately changes - and instead of pristine white floors, I am looking down at stone ground. The doors and long alleyway disappear, to be replaced by an expense of forests so vast that they stretched beyond what my eyes could see. Where Sobekneferu's Heaven had been an elaborately complex greenhouse, the surroundings around me are all wild forests and cloudless purple skies. I quickly realize that the stone floors is from the rooftop I'm standing upon. I'm on a pyramid maybe thirty floors high, entirely made of stone and creeping vines. I would've been impressed had I not been so dazed.

"You."

At the sole word, I am shocked into attention, my adrenaline skyrockets, my heart beat picks up and my muscles tense. The voice was layered with so much power that the mere word had been enough to send my internal alarms screaming. There was an instinctive, totally irrational need for me to kowtow at the mere feel of the person's presence, the dizzying combination of respect, fear and adoration crammed into one as I raged with myself to stay calm and stand where I was.

Was that... was that God?

I whirl around, tense and wary of who - or what - I'd see, and let out a quiet, unintended gasp.

Sitting on a raised throne was a man whose face belonged on a thousand runways and magazines, his bronze skin tone so rich that it made his iridescent gold eyes glow with power. He is lean yet powerfully built, with his hair in tight braids that s down to the floor. Even as he sat, leaning against his propped up hand, it was easy to see how tall he was.

Just like Pakal had said, this was a man who knew only power, and nothing else.

I take an instinctive step back as he straightens, not even blinking once as he stares me down.

"Fifth Aamon."

I literally bite down the urge to turn and flee, as the First Man - there was no denying who he was at this point - frowns, his eyebrows coming together towards the middle. He is angry, and maybe rightfully so, knowing how I was as his successor.

"I've heard a lot about you."

He stands, his off-white Kaftan moving gently with the wind. I'd somehow thought that his lengthy braids were maybe extensions or wigs, but as they move along with him, I quickly realise that they aren't. How the Hell does he upkeep hair of that length?

"You have caused Heaven a lot of trouble."

I feel the colour running from my face as Adam moves down a step from his throne.

"Disagreeing with your Parliament, running from your Court."

He takes another step down, the anger on his face seeming to only build.

"Siding with Courts, outwardly *supporting* Hell yet bringing down the Apocalypse to avoid Heaven."

He reaches the bottom step and continues his walk towards me. He walks like a King, like someone used to others kowtowing and falling to his feet at his presence. He is terrifying.

"You have killed many Angels, have the audacity to establish your own Aamon's Court outside jurisdiction, maintain a *relationship* with the Heir of the Underworld yet still wonder why Heaven does not support you?"

He is slowly encircling me now, much like a predator nearing its pray, ready to pounce.

"I have ruled for hundreds of thousands of years, saw the rise and fall of empires and civilizations, established the Aamon's Court from nothing and built it from the ground up. I have seen my fair share of souls, of calamities and disasters, of initiates, Aamons, demons and Angels, yet *nothing* comes close to you."

He stops were he is, standing facing me, as he leers. "You do not *know* the amount of patience it takes me right now to not wrap my hands around your throat."

I blink, swallowing as he stares me down.

"I'm sorry...?"

And there it is. Adam lashes out, wrapping one very large, very powerful, and very scary hand around my throat as he pulls me towards him. We are barely two inches apart as I stare into his gold eyes. Unlike Sobekneferu, Pakal and I, Adam didn't have a ring of gold encompassing his irises.

His irises were in fact, purely gold. I wonder if it was a testament to his power.

Adam says nothing, before he throws me back so violently that I am sent flying.

And I crash through a doorway, slamming into a pristine white wall and fall to the floor.

"Wow." I look up to Pakal standing over me, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "What did you do?"

"Stand there and blink," I groan, as I push myself off the ground. "What happened?"

"Adam kicked you out of his Heaven," he points out. "But don't be discouraged. He doesn't like anybody in general."

"The feeling's mutual," I say. I needed to go back in.

"You going back to see him?"

"Duh."

"Good luck."

"First of all," I say, the moment I enter his Heaven and see him upon his throne once more, scrolling through an iPad. I didn't point out how weird that sight was because with extent of shiit I had on my plate, an Apple product in Heaven was the least of my worries. "I'm not sure what it is with you people in Heaven, but Jin and I are *not* in a relationship."

Adam looks up to meet my gaze and I swallow the need to pee right then and there. No wonder he didn't have any friends.

"Secondly," I hold up two fingers in a peace sign and hold it against my cheek to hide the fact that I am *drunk* with fear as Adam places his iPad to the side and totally stares me down. "I didn't ask to be Aamon and I didn't receive the invitation to be an initiate. So if there's anyone you want to be mad at, it's Pakal."

Nice going, Taehyung, I think to myself. Pushing the blame to someone else like a true leader.

"Thirdly," I continue, my mind scrambling to put words into coherent sentences as Adam stands once more and makes his way towards me. Sit down, sit down!, my mind screams. "My rule would've been a lot smoother if I simply had the support of everyone and not at my tail twenty four seven to kill me!"

Adam stands before me, two feet away. He doesn't have an angry expression anymore. Rather, he looks at me like I'm an intrusive freeloader who won't leave his home.

An upgrade, I suppose.

"Your endless excuses are amusing," he says, voice deep enough set off an earthquake against my chest. "It is very telling of your ability as an Aamon."

That. Was. A. Blow.

"Pray tell, Aamon. What is it that you want from me?"

It was now or never.

"I'm trying to get better, and I'm trying to improve. I know I at being Aamon, but I'm trying. I've trained with Sobekneferu and Pakal, and they said you're a better teacher. So I want you to train me."

I was expecting anything - laughter on Adam's part, anger, denial, outward rejection, but I wasn't expecting his reply.

"Let me do you a favour, Fifth Aamon. I will request for your physical body to be killed, so you can cease being Aamon and stay here forever."

I had to blink a few times at that, my mouth opening and closing in shock and confusion.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? I want to improve! I want to learn, not die!"

"And you also said you never wanted to become Aamon. So I shall do you favour and kill you so you won't be an Aamon any longer."

"I'm not going to die and stay here in Heaven," I bite.

"And why not? Heaven is always the ultimate goal of all Creation. You will learn to love Heaven once you stop running around and screaming."

"I don't go running around screaming!" I scream - and catch myself.

"I see," Adam murmurs, looking wholly unamused.

I groan in frustration. My own antics were distracting me from how terrifying Adam is.

"Look. Maybe you don't understand. But I have people on Earth waiting for me. And for them, I'll do whatever it takes to improve and be the better Aamon everyone including myself, wants me to be."

Adam seems to deliberate for about half a second before he answers. "Alright."

I mentally backtrack. Alright? That's it? That's all it took for him to agree?

"You're agreeing?"

"Perhaps," he answers. "But before I do so, answer me this. What will you do once you improve? You still have the trial you must go through, I'm sure you are aware. There is no guarantee that you'll even get to return to Earth."

"I'll return," I say, willing it into existence. "I have to. And once I get better - once I have better control of my powers, I can execute my rule properly. I'm going to get my Court to recognize me. I'm going to purge our Parliament of corruption, then I'm going to stop the Seraphim trying to kill me."

"And what of then?" Adam asks, "What of the rest of your rule, if you are privileged enough to even live that long?"

"Then I'm going to do my job as much - and as properly as I can."

"How?"

"I haven't figured that out yet because I already have so much on my plate!"

"Then you are not fit to be Aamon," Adam growls.

"I am fit to be Aamon because I AM THE AAMON!"

"You will learn to keep your emotions in check, Aamon, lest you endanger those holding on to your body down on Earth."

That shuts me up pretty quickly, so I hold my tongue.

"The first lesson an initiate learns," Adam says, "is of patience, even when the world and all whom are in it test him. Because the Aamon's power responds to emotion."

I nod. "Yeah. That's what Pakal said."

"What else did he say?"

"He said my mind was... dangerous. That I couldn't be trained by them. Only you."

"Why?"

This was starting to feel like an interview session for a new job.

"I don't know," I shrug. "Sobekneferu looked into my mind and what she saw worried her... I guess."

Adam is quiet for like five seconds before he turns around and starts walking away. I stare after him, unsure of what to do.

"Come."

Well, that's my signal.

Adam raises a hand, and the floor before him sinks into the ground to reveal stairs that lead downwards. Huh. At this rate, nothing could surprise me.

He heads down and I follow.

Immediately, the space above my head closes and I am enveloped in pitch darkness.

Aww . Did I finally walk into a trap? Was I really going to die here?

And then the entire space lights up, a blinding, stark white light much like the doorways Pakal had lead me through. The stairs have fully disappeared and I'm staring at an expense of room so vast that they go beyond what my eyes could see.

The entirety of the room is decorated by rows upon rows of shelves extending just as far as the room went. Every shelf was lined with another shelf about three feet away, with each column of shelves being high enough to extend into oblivion.

And each shelf, each and every shelf as far as my eyes could see, contained orbs, lined tightly beside each other, unlabeled and similar. Just like the doors in the hallway.

There had to be *millions* of orbs here.

But what were they? They looked to be made of glass, yet sparkled as brightly as diamonds.

I reach out to touch one.

"Do. Not. Touch. Anything."

I freeze, turning my head to the direction of the voice. Adam is a distance away, his back to me as he continues walking.

How did he know?

"I don't read minds," he says aloud, as if he did. "You are merely predictable."

Wow.

I let my hand drop down to my side and continue walking.

"What is this place?" My voice echoes loudly in the emptiness of the space.

"Storage," Adam answers simply.

"And what are those orbs?"

"Memories. Every orb holds on to the memory of an individual soul."

I pause, staring at another orb. My reflection stares back.

"...why?"

"Proof of accountability," Adam answers. "Beings rarely remember everything they've ever done, and the Angels are too busy to do the same. So those orbs become storage spaces. Each orb holds the life story, past, present and future, of every being created."

...wow.

"Every being?"

"Every being."

"Including Jin's?"

There is a pregnant pause after the question, and I see through my peripheral vision, Adam turning to me.

"Including Azazel's," he confirms.

I turn to Adam. His expression gives nothing away, and I'm aware that neither does mine.

"So what are we here for?"

"Yours."

That has my eyebrows rising as I stare.

He turns away and continues walking.

"How do you tell the difference between individual orbs?"

"I don't."

"So how do you know which belongs to whom?"

"The orbs show previews to me. From there I know whose it is."

"Only you?"

"Yes. I am the Keeper of the Orbs."

I continue tailing him, staring as I pass by each orb.

"How long have you been Keeper?"

"Ever since my death multimillenia ago."

"And how long will you be Keeper?"

"Eternity."

"That's kinda sad," I say out loud before I can stop myself. "Sorry."

"Every Creation has purpose, Kim Taehyung." Adam doesn't even pause in step. "Yours is as the Fifth Aamon, and mine is as this. A Creation with no purpose will have no will to live."

"But you're not even alive. And Heaven is supposed to be a place of rest, isn't it?"

"The purpose of my Creation is to serve God. Anything else is redundant."

I shut my mouth at that. I could sense that I was starting to tread on dangerous ground.

Adam stops suddenly, turning to his left to face an orb. "This one," he quietly murmurs, as he takes it and holds it between two hands.

"Is that mine?"

He nods as I come closer.

"What will it do?" I ask him. "What's the purpose of me looking at my memories?"

"Peace of mind."

"That's it?"

And Adam smiles, though it is a cynical one. It's still something.

"The initiate who lacks peace, lacks control. The Aamon who lacks peace will be but a slave to his power."

"So looking at my past will somehow magically give me control." I was as cynical as Adam's smile. Was he trying to tell me that the months that I've been trying my level best to control and use my powers could've been shortened if only I had peace of mind? And then the power would magically listen to me?

Forgive me for being doubtful but what the fcuk?

"No. But it will serve to be a powerful anchor to access your powers."

I frown, but heed, and reach out to rest my hands against the orb.

"Ready?"

"No," I answer.

Everything pans out, and I am thrown *inwards*, into the glass ball in our hands.

Holy shiit. This was a trap, I'm sure of it!

I start screaming as everything zooms by, and I'm surrounded by pictures moving in fast forward like some sort of time travel.

And then I'm on flat ground, thrown like a sack of potatoes and am left horizontally sprawling.

What the Hell??

"Taehyung!"

I sit bolt upright, realizing that I'm in a small clearing in the middle of a valley. I take a glance around. I know this place.

And then there's the sound of galloping horses approaching and I whirl around just in time to see three horses speeding towards me. I curse under my breath as I throw myself to the side but am too slow when one of the horses crashes into me.

And breezes right through me.

What the - oh right. I was in some memories. I couldn't be seen.

"You cheat!" I hear laughter as the three horses slow down. I know whose riding them. I remember this memory pretty well.

"I wasn't cheating," I hear a younger version of myself laugh.

"Then how could you have the heart to beat an old man so easily!" Yoochun is on another horse, grinning amusedly.

"He wasn't cheating, Your Excellency!" Jungkook - a younger one who looked exactly the same as he does now - pouts in my defence. "You were just pretending to lose."

"Me?!"

I stand as I look around. Why this memory?

As soon as the thought crosses my head, the scenery changes.

"What is this?!" The familiar roar makes me flinch. I remember this memory too.

"A... a baby."

I'm eight, clutching really tightly to my chest a young infant who is probably a few days old.

"Where did you steal it from?" My ward grabs on to my forearm and shakes me really hard. It makes baby Jungkook cry and I cry along with him. "How many times must I tell you to be discreet, Taehyung?!"

I remember what happened. I was out on a mission for training. I was supposed to run through the forest and hide my scent while hounds chased after me. I'd always be found and would have bite marks and bruises decorating my small body along the way.

But this time, I came home early. With a package.

"Someone left it!" I cry in defence. "They put it in a hole and there was dirt in its mouth!"

I hadn't known it then, but the people who'd abandoned Jungkook in the woods were Lycans working under Erina, Jungkook's biological mother. Erina had decided to hide her birth and kill the baby since it was a hybrid - an offspring of a Werewolf and an Incubus.

Fortunately for Jungkook, the Lycans sent to kill him were idiots. They'd buried him alive in a shallow grave and left, hoping he'd either choke to death or be a victim of the elements. I'd found him and brought him home.

"This is not an orphanage!"

"Yes it is!" I yell back. "I'm an orphan and I don't even want to be here!"

The sound of the slap as he hits me across my cheek resonates loudly in the room and I fall to the floor, still clutching on to Jungkook.

"Enough." The both of us look up to see the Victor standing at my doorway, looking peeved - probably due to the noise we were making. Behind him stands my nanny, a really kind lady who had always been on my side when it seemed like no one else was.

"Leave." At the Victor's prompt, my ward heads out and I stare up at the Victor, unsure what he's about to do. I see little Me look up at him with challenge in my eyes as I hold tightly to baby Jungkook, both of us crying our little hearts out.

"Henrietta, I put you in charge. Have the infant cleaned and fed then send Taehyung back to training. He may only see the child once his training is done."

And that was it. That was the story of how Jungkook came to be with me.

The scene shifts again.

This time, I'm somewhere unfamiliar, in the living room of someone's house. The TV is still blaring, playing Barney the Dinosaur and there are children's toys scattered on the carpet. There is the sound of a squeal and I turn around to see a small child, maybe two years old, run around n@ked and dripping wet.

"Can't catch me, can't catch me!"

I don't understand. If these memories are mine, why is this scene unfamiliar?

"Come back here!"

A young man, bespectacled and still in his work clothes, runs in with a towel in hand, ready to catch the young child.

The little one laughs, climbing atop the sofa and running towards the other end.

The young man, who I presume to be his father, manages to catch him, wrapping him in the towel like a burrito.

"Haha, caught you!" He yells in victory.

"Daddy, no!" The toddler laughs as he struggles.

"Clothes first, young man!"

I can only blink, staring dazedly as the adult makes his way upstairs, and I am left alone in the living room.

Where was I? If this memory is mine, why is it so unfamiliar? I don't even have a trace of this place in my mind, yet I'm here.

I head upstairs, following in the footsteps of the father. Family photos line the walls, each one depicting the family - a mother, father and the young child - in various poses, both natural and orchestrated. They all look incredibly happy.

"Honey, did you get him?" A lady's voice this time.

"He got me, Mommy!" The young child answers instead.

I follow where the voices come from, just in time to see the father enter a room with the young child.

"Hello, baby boy!" The mother immediately coos. "Did you have a good bath?"

"Yeah!"

I step into the doorway of the room and it turns out to be a nursery. The young mother is heavily pregnant and she holds the toddler in her arms, kissing the little child noisily as the father watches with amused eyes.

There is menial chatter as the couple asks each other of their day and exchange light hugs and kisses while the child interrupts at odd intervals, demanding attention and receiving the same. There is laughter and smiles and general happiness and I find myself feeling the same. They are a happy family.

The father speaks again as his wife slips on a pair of pajamas on the young boy. "So was Taehyung a good boy today?"

The smile on my face falters and I feel myself grow rigid.

Did I... did I just hear what I just heard?

"Yeah, Daddy!" The little boy - ME, essentially, enthusiastically answers. "Sooooo good!"

I feel my heart rate heighten and my breath quicken. These were my parents, the ones I've been searching for my whole life. They're here, right in front of me.

They're right here - alive, breathing, *moving*.

Why didn't I remember any of this?

"And are you ready for bed?"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!" Both my parents emulate my cheer.

I feel my eyes water with tears as the breath catches at my throat. I've found them. I've really found them.

I cannot begin to describe the feeling I have in my chest, as I clutch at the space where my heart is. It's like... a whole weight has been taken off, like a second chance had been given to me. The warmth I feel spreads down to my toes and I literally, truly do feel at peace.

I wish I could reach out - touch them, talk to them, say something. But I know I can't. Memories were not interactive.

I see my parents tuck me in bed, showering me with hugs and kisses. My father reads me a story while my mother becomes the animator, using the stuffed toys I had around my bed to be characters that moved and talked about. And when the story ends, they hug and kiss me some more.

"Good night, Daddy. Good night, Mommy," I hear little Me say.

"Good night, Taehyung. We love you."

And I break. I cry. I haven't cried this hard in a long time, but I cry ugly tears and sob loudly.

They loved me. They really loved me.

And then the lights are turned off and the door is half-closed, and my parents leave the room.

I take a moment alone to just *breathe*.

This was my house. Those were my parents. That was me. They loved me. We were a family.

I head downstairs to see my parents on the couch, cuddling with each other as they watched TV. They'd switched channels and were talking lightly.

They loved each other. There is irrational pride in me as I watch them, staring at their faces as I try to memorize what I can.

This is what they looked like. After all the years of searching, this is what they look like.

I simply stare for nearly a whole hour, watching as my heavily pregnant mother shifts in her seat and my father patiently accommodate. Her hair is like mine when I had long hair - jet black and curling slightly at the end. I have her eyes, but I look more like my dad. I have his nose.

And suddenly the both of them look up at the ceiling, where little Me would've been sleeping.

"Did you feel that?" I hear my mother ask my father.

I don't. As a projection of memories, the only thing I would experience were sight and sound. Anything behind that and I'd be unaware.

But my father nods.

And then a scream. Little Me is screaming.

Both my parents shoot up, running up the stairs while I tail from behind. What's going on?

My father kicks open the door to my bedroom and turns on the light. And I feel myself going pale.

No. No, I know what was going to happen. I know *exactly* what was going to happen and what the outcome would be. I didn't want to see. I don't want to see.

"Take me back!" I yell into empty air as my parents run in, calling on to their weapons as they attempt to fight the two intruders off. "I've seen enough!" I'm starting to panic and I feel the tears return. "Take me back!" I'm literally screaming, trying to block off the sights and sounds I heard going on from inside the bedroom. "Please! I don't want to know! I don't want to see! I don't want to hear!"

Because although I know what's happening, what's going on and is about to happen, I've never seen it beforehand. I'd repressed the memory long ago, making myself forget and it made sense why.

Because Jin is inside that room. He is holding on to me as he fights a frightful demon who had to be Beelzebub. He'd told me what happened.

Beelzebub was sent to kill me, Jin was there to save me. My parents saw, misunderstood and attacked them. And to quickly save me, to make sure Beelzebub wouldn't get to me, nor use my parents as some sort of leverage, Jin had to kill them.

Even with my hands pressed tightly against my ears and my own crying, I can hear what's happening.

I hear my dad yell and my mother screaming. I hear the blows, the distinct sound of blade cutting through flesh and the sound of bodies hitting the ground. Blood starts to creep out from beneath the door and I lose it.

I scream and scream and scream. I scream so hard that I feel dizzy from screaming yet I still scream.

I can't see from the tears in my eyes, I can't hear from the shock I was experiencing. I was going to lose it.

And then the scene changes and I am thrown back.

Shelves and white walls greet me as I fall to the ground, panting and shaking heavily.

"Fifth Aamon."

I can hear Adam calling me but I can barely respond. Shock has rendered me basically immobile and resist the urge to curl into myself and continue screaming and crying. The experience has been overpowering.

"Fifth Aamon."

I finally find the strength to look up at him, and Adam stares me down in disdain. "It has yet to end. You must continue."

"I can't." Even my voice is shaky as I shake my head. "Please. I'm not strong enough."

"You must. If you are to become Aamon, you must learn how to overcome pain, mentally and physically. You must continue."

I nod as Adam kneels before me, my orb still in his hands. I'd agreed to be the best Aamon I could be. I had to do this.

I place my hand upon the orb.

And immediately find myself brought back to the memory I'd been trying to avoid. This time, I'm transported straight into the nursery, right in the middle of the battle scene.

The panic builds again.

My father crashes through the door, and it takes him a solid second before he registers what's going on.

"Taehyung!"

Beelzebub is looming above my sleeping form, his dagger above my head as he plunges it down. And then Jin crashes straight into him, throwing his brother to the side.

The movements and sounds jolt Little Me awake, and I immediately start crying.

Jin grabs me from my bed, as I hear another scream.

"No!" It's my mother, running absurdly fast for someone so heavily pregnant. "Don't touch my son!"

I was starting to fall into a panic attack, as the tears trickle down my face once more. I can barely breathe.

My mother grabs the nearest weapon, which was a table lamp and I hear her yell a spell. The lamp extends and morphs into a sword, and she charges, wielding her sword like a baton. Jin raises his free hand to catch the blow from her strike.

"Mom, no!" I find myself screaming. "He's here to help!" I know they can't hear me, but I'm screaming despite. I had to try change the outcome, even if I knew it was impossible.

My mother continuously strikes at Jin, who absorbs blow after blow, before something behind her makes him widen his eyes.

He grabs my mother by the forearm, hurling her to the side, just as a powerful spell is thrown by Beelzebub.

Jin shifts at the last moment, absorbing the blow with his back as he cradles me protectively in his arms to shield me from the spell.

"Beelzebub, stop! They're innocents!"

"And when has that ever bothered me?" I hear him answer. "Daddy has given his orders!"

While Jin and Beelzebub have the short exchange, my father gets up and yells a spell which slams into Beelzebub. The said demon whirls around to face him, livid anger on his face, and charges, his sword raised over his head to strike my father.

Jin moves again, getting between my father and Beelzebub as he absorbs the blow with his wrist, his other arm still holding me tightly against him.

"Enough! You will have no benefit in killing them!"

"And you will have no benefit in saving them!"

My father takes the opportunity and moves, grabbing one of my toys and morphing it into a sword. He uses it to impale Jin through his calf.

Jin falls to the floor on one knee, roaring as he drops Little Me as well. I watch my past self fall momentarily, before Beelzebub catches me by my arm.

I scream again, and so does my past self. The toddler me is crying in fear and pain as Beelzebub lugs me back and raises me over his head, looking like he's about to slam me into the ground like a sack of potatoes.

My mother throws a spell, which strikes Beelzebub's chest and he roars, dropping me. I hit the ground, crying and screaming as Beelzebub whirls around. He grabs his sword and raises it over my head, ready to impale me.

"No!" My mother screams as she moves.

"No!" I scream in turn. I have a pretty sure idea of what she's going to do.

And she does it.

My mother grabs me, throwing me out of the way just as the sword slams into her, impaling her as it goes straight through.

I scream again, this time joined by my father.

"Beelzebub!" Jin's yell has turned into a straight up roar and he crashes into his brother. The two start a ferocious duel, each striking the other with a combination of weapons and limbs, moving so fast that I'm barely able to catch them.

"Fool!" I hear Beelzebub roar. "What is it that you seek so much to protect them from?!"

"The likes of you!" I hear Jin roar back.

Meanwhile, I see my father make a run for my mother, and he touches the nape of her neck, quickly realising that she's dead. Something breaks in him, something that I can't put my finger on, but see very clearly from the light that leaves my father's eyes.

He's lost it.

He grabs my mother's sword and blindly charges towards the two battling demons.

Jin is the first to notice and he murmurs a spell under his breath that hits Beelzebub squarely in his chest and hurls him away. Again, Jin receives the blows, this time from my father. My father turns out to be a pretty good swordsman, as he deals strike after strike, pushing Jin back.

"Stop it!" I hear Jin yell. Beelzebub has pushed himself off the ground, and seeing his older brother being busy dealing with my father, makes his way towards my younger self, his sword by his side. Jin sees all this, and turns back to my father. "Save your son!"

But my father has lost his light, and probably his sanity. He doesn't stop attacking Jin, and I see the calculating look in Jin's eyes on which sacrifice would be more worthy for him to make.

He ultimately makes the choice as he produces the sword from his back and strikes a deadly blow against my father's chest. I scream again. My father is thrown to the side and Jin charges towards Beelzebub.

"Don't touch him!" I hear him roar, as he crashes into his brother and yells a spell that sets his blade on fire, before he impales Beelzebub with it. Jin yells another spell as Beelzebub roars in pain, and a portal opens before him.

He doesn't even pause as he ferociously pulls his sword from Beelzebub's chest and grabs him by his throat before he *literally* hurls his younger brother straight into the portal.

The mouth of the portal closes almost immediately and just like that, the battle is over.

Jin runs to my past self and lifts me into his arms. Being the toddler that I am, I'm crying and screaming, but wrap my arms around his neck in a blind bid to find comfort.

"You're okay," I hear Jin soothe.

He heads to check on my mother but merely gives her a cursory glance as he swears under his breath. She is very clearly dead.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," I hear him whisper to himself.

And then he goes to check on my father, and sees him alive - but barely.

Jin lies my father against his back. He is drenched in blood with his chest nearly sliced open. I think the blow had been a lot more powerful than Jin had intended as once more, Jin quietly curses.

My father is gasping for breath as he looks up at Jin. There is a very audible rasping sound every time he breathes and it's obvious that his lungs are filling up with blood. He was drowning.

Jin kneels by his side and stares quietly at him, and I see my father reach for me, resting a bloody hand against my foot.

"I'm sorry," I hear Jin say. "I came to protect you, but I failed. The only person I could protect was your son. I'll keep him safe from now on."

And the two of them stare at each other for a few moments, before my father's hand drops away from me. He is still breathing, but it is laboured and difficult. He was going to have a painful death.

Jin quietly reaches for my father's sword, holding it momentarily in his hands. He seems to be deliberating for a bit, before he glances at my father.

Something in him must have convinced Jin, and he stabs my father with it, plunging the blade straight into his heart.

I violently flinch at the suddenness of the action. My father's heart stops beating almost immediately and he dies right then.

Jin had been doing him a favour by ending his pain as quickly and as painlessly as he could. He had tried to do the right thing.

"Daddy?" Little Me is peering over Jin's shoulder, staring at my father. "Mommy?"

"Hush, child," I hear Jin answer, "It's night time. They're sleeping."

"I want Mommy." The version of me in Jin's arms starts crying, staring at all the carnage and registering what was going on. "I want Daddy."

Jin stands, still holding me securely against his chest. "They're sleeping, child. Let them rest."

Then I start squirming, trying to get out of his hold. I twist and turn and scream, but don't manage to break free. "I want my Mommy and Daddy. I want my Mommy and Daddy!"

And right then, Jin whispers a spell against my ear, and I immediately go limp, falling asleep.

Jin takes one last look at the scene he's left behind. "Let’s get out of here."

The scene changes again, and Jin is standing before Pakal, the young me still in his arms. I'm starting to wake up, which should explain why the events in between are unknown to me.

"I can't," Pakal says.

"You have to." Jin is practically growling as he cradles me, unaware that I'm slowly waking up from his slumbering spell. "He's your successor."

"We don't know yet!" Pakal answers, literally fighting to keep his voice down. He takes a moment to calm down before he glances around. It is somewhat unnecessary. They're in his bedroom. "Listen, you are condemning him to death if he stays here."

"Where else can he go? His parents are dead!"

"And so will he be, if the Parliament catches wind of him! Hosting you in secret is enough for me to face punishment."

"The child requires training, Ezekiel. If he is to be the next Aamon, then he must know the basics."

"The Parliament will never accept him," Pakal answers. "They will kill him."

"They are his assigned protectors!"

"The only thing they wish to protect is the Aamon's power. What do you think a child saved by the Demon Prince would hint to them?"

Jin falls quiet at that, and Little Me takes the opportunity to start crying.

"Mommy!" I start screaming. "Daddy!"

Jin shifts me into a sitting position, resting my head against his shoulder as he starts doing the instinctive 'rock-sway' motion most parents master to put toddlers back to sleep. I continue crying, but my sobs soften.

"Then how will he learn?" Jin asks, as Pakal only stares at Little Me.

"Through trial and error," Pakal answers. "If he stays here, he will be a puppet of the Parliament just as the other initiates are. My successor cannot be amongst them."

"He will have a difficult life," Jin murmurs, almost as if he's having a final bid to try convince Pakal.

"Didn't we all?" Pakal muses, smiling slightly.

"You are a cruel man, Fourth Aamon."

Pakal shifts his gaze to Jin. "We must all do what we have to. Take him far away from here, Azazel. Don't tell me where, but take him to another continent. Look after him, raise him."

At that, Jin shakes his head. "He cannot be under my wings. It will be too controversial."

"Then send him to be taken care of. His parents had many friends. Do not *ever* bring him here again. The Parliament will do their level best to destroy him and his reign."

Both of them fall quiet then, and the version of me in Jin's arms straighten, my crying ending and my curiousity peaking. I turn to stare at Pakal, and the Fourth Aamon stares back.

"I'm sorry I cannot help me you, Azazel. Me being involved will only ruin your plans."

Jin says nothing as he stares at Little Me. I see my younger self turn my gaze away from Pakal and look to Jin. We hold gazes momentarily.

"With all due respect," Pakal quietly says. "I hope your plan fails."

And then Jin turns to him.

"You are master of your own fate. Taking advantage of this child to such a degree will do you no good."

"I'm not putting my hopes on him."

At that, Pakal scoffs, looking away. "You risked life and limb to save him, just for the meagre chance that he might kill you so your father may be overthrown. I would say he has a bit of a heavy weight."

"The child will come to hate me once he learns the truth. He will kill me to avenge his parents."

"You are bargaining on the fact that he might think like you," Pakal points out. "What if he doesn't?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Jin's tone has undertaken traces of annoyance and anger as he growls at Pakal.

"You are being too much!" Pakal yells right then. "Had I not feared the Parliament, I would have taken this child from a monster like you! You are using him for your own gain. I curse this child with empathy so powerful that he chooses to forgive you rather than seek revenge!"

I blink at that. That is... a pretty unique curse.

But Jin roars, understanding the insult thrown at him, and the young me in his arms starts crying as Jin comes forward and grabs Pakal by his throat, lifting him off the ground.

"I would not have even needed to do this had you agreed to help!"

Pakal reacts by grabbing Jin's wrist, and sending a blow of Holy Power into him. Jin hisses loudly in pain as he drops Pakal and backtracks several steps. The skin where Pakal had touched him looks cooked, and is smoking slightly.

"Azazel," Pakal says, standing as he rubs distractedly at his neck. "Know this. If you succeed, the balance of powers between the Aamon, Heaven and Hell will be thrown off. War will be incited. You would most probably die, and the hierarchy system in Hell will go awry. Yet you *still want to risk it*? You would be far happier in Hell than in a revolution doomed to fail."

"I would rather *die* than spend a moment more in that place."

Pakal takes several steps forward till he is standing barely a foot away from Jin. The look in his eyes - he is imploring Jin. "Do not risk so much for your own gain, Azazel."

Jin stares at him, and for a moment, it looks like he might falter. But he doesn't.

"The child will grow to be the next Aamon. He will kill me and end my father's reign. Until then, I will protect him."

The scene fades away, and I open my eyes. I'm still on the floor, with Adam kneeling beside me as he holds my orb. I let my hand fall away from it, and I realise my face is wet with tears once again.

"Did you see enough?"

I nod. I saw more than enough.

"Good, because you must leave. The Angels are coming and the canonization ceremony will start soon. Best you prepare."

I push myself off the floor just as Adam stands, moving to place the orb back.

"The sight of Angels is something one must learn to get used to."

"The Angels have visited me plenty," I point out.

I see the semblance of a smile against Adam's lips as he places the orb against the shelf.

"True. But it is something else to see them in Heaven."

The scene changes again, and we are on the rooftop. Adam moves back to his throne. He lifts up his dragging kaftan and whirls around, his braids flying at the movement, and settles down on the throne.

Man, he really did look God-like.

I blankly stare for a moment, before a thought crosses my mind.

"Will you be coming for the canonization?"

"It is my duty to attend."

"Will you be attending my trial?"

And he looks up to observe me, a look in his eyes that I can't quite comprehend. "Yes. Do you fear it?"

"No," I instinctively say, before realising I was right. I didn't fear it.

"Are you so confident in your abilities?"

"No," I answer again. "But I've tried my best to rule, and I have no regrets. But I'm not staying here."

Adam raises an eyebrow at that. "Will you move to your own Heaven?"

"No. I'm going back to Earth. I'm returning to my body. I won't leave those waiting for me hanging."

"I thought you hated being Aamon."

He wasn't wrong. "I still do."

"So why would you want to return to Earth when Heaven is right here? You have everything you ever want, and anything you'll ever need. You'll be able to explore your powers, be safe from harm. And you'll be able to see your family. Your parents, your unborn brothers."

Is it weird to say that I wasn't tempted by his words?

Of course I wanted to see my parents. Of course I wanted to visit my siblings. Of course I wanted to feel safe, and loved and pampered. But this wasn't the life for me. Not yet. Not now.

I shake my head. "That's your definition of Heaven, not mine. One day, it'll be mine. But not now."

And I see Adam frown as he stares at me. I don't think someone of his power and stature is easily confused, but he seems so right now.

"You are the first person I've ever encountered to reject Heaven."

"I'm not rejecting Heaven. I'm just saying right here in this place, this is not my Heaven."

He waits for me to finish my answer.

"My Heaven is down there, on Earth."

"Heaven is not hardship," Adam quietly says. "It is not bloodshed and battles, nor of anguish and pain. All of that awaits you down on Earth." His tone hints that he is very curious to hear of my answer.

"My Heaven is not in my surroundings. My Heaven is in my people. So if you want me to stay in Heaven, then I will. But my Heaven is with them. Not here."

Adam is quiet at that, before he nods his head. "Very well. May your answer appease the Angels. Best you leave to prepare for the ceremony."

I open my mouth to ask another question. But the scene changes again, and instead of a rooftop, I'm just staring at a closed white door.

"So how did it go?"

I blink, turning to my left to see Pakal standing beside me. I'm in the hallway once again.

Looking at his face, I remember again.

"You cursed me."

It’s his turn to blink this time, as he stares blankly at me.

"Pardon?"

"You cursed me with empathy, and prayed that Jin would fail."

A spark of realization crosses his features. "Ah. I did. Mostly spur of the moment."

"But it came true," I pointed out.

At that, Pakal gives me a knowing grin. "I'm aware."

"I thought you wanted me to change Jin. Then why are you so against me being near him now?"

At that, his grin is swiped off his face. "Because now, you're changing too much."

"What?" I counter. "Because he's fighting against his father? Because he chooses to be a free Man? Because he's seeking redemption?"

"Because he is being biased," Pakal shoots back, the glare in his eyes telling me to shut up and listen. "And he is siding with the natural enemy of his Court."

"Jin is not being biased," I argue. "We don't influence each other's decisions. And why can't you support him? You told him he's master of his own fate. So why can't you accept that he's just not happy in Hell!"

"He is a *Demon*, Taehyung!" Pakal rests two very strong hands against my forearms and shakes me slightly. "He *does not belong* in Heaven. He rules in lavish luxury in Hell. The only thing Azazel is being, is selfish. He cannot change the status quo!"

"*You're* being selfish!" I yell back as I look up at Pakal. "You're so afraid of what change will bring that you'd rather everyone around you suffer and die. The corruption in our Court, your suffering initiates, the crazy Parliament. It's all on you!"

"I did what I had to do to protect what I was responsible for!" Pakal is full on roaring now. "You will realise, Taehyung, that this job encompasses a lot more than just Azazel's welfare!"

"Well, it was you who cursed me with this empathy, so you can't blame me for being this way," I bite, firmly pushing him away from me. "I will support Jin, and every other person seeking redemption because *I AM THE GUARDIAN OF LOST SOULS*. I will *never* give up on any soul or being the way you so casually do so now. I will do *everything* in my power to help - even if it kills me. And I won't let you stop me from doing my job as Aamon either."

Pakal glares at me, and I join the game, glaring right back.

"You are a stubborn, stubborn child," he growls, before he pauses, closing his eyes and looking away. "But that stubbornness is the conviction leaders must carry with them. Hence, if that is the path you wish to walk, then I pray you walk it with success and ease."

"...thanks."

He turns back to me again, the hint of frustration still evident in his eyes, though he tries to hold it down.

"So what did Adam say?"

"Nothing much. He brought me to the Orbs."

"Ah-haa. Your own?"

I nod again.

"What did you see?"

"I saw -" I pause suddenly, feeling the gravity of the memories and the weight they had on my chest. "I saw a lot of things."

"What did they make you feel?"

I frown, needing a moment to articulate myself. "Confusion at first. And then anger, fear... frustration? But at the end of it, I just felt... weightless. Like something had been taken off my mind, you know?"

"That's good," Pakal says, back to his cheerful demeanor as he smiles. "That means that it's --"

The sound of a blaring trumpet, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, hits all around us and I nearly fall to the floor from shock. I look up at Pakal, and see the smile wiped off his face. He seems to go ten shades lighter as he turns to me.

"It's starting."

"What is?"

"Your trial."

"Wha -"

I was beginning to get really tired of being ripped off my feet, but I was experiencing just that as the scene changes again, this time at a much more alarming rate than the previous one. I had to close my eyes at that, feeling everything rushing through me while simultaneously feeling my feet planted securely on the ground.

I suddenly jam brake and I teeter forward, nearly losing balance as I open my eyes and catch myself.

I'm standing on an elevated podium, realising pretty quickly that glass surrounds me, probably in a cage as similar to that which I found myself in when I first got here. This prison though, is a lot smaller than the previous one, with barely enough room for me to raise my arms straight out in front of me. I rest my hand against the glass.

There was no need for me to panic, I say to myself. Everything would be fine.

I look up to stare at my surroundings, and feel my breath catching against my throat.

Angels, as frightful and terrifying as they are in true form, gather around. They are all seated and staring at me. There had to be hundreds before me, maybe even thousands. I stand smack in the middle of them on a raised stage, with a council of five Angels before me seated like judges before a court. To my left sit the three Aamons, staying to the side like a jury.

None of them turn to even glance at me and in their ignorance of my presence, I know that I'm really in deep shiit.

"We gather here today for the evaluation of Kim Taehyung, Fifth Aamon." The Angel sitting in the middle of the row of five speaks, and his voice itself is enough to send powerful vibrations against my glass cage. I take my hand away from the glass, letting it fall to my side.

"Kim Taehyung." He looks directly at me, and I feel the fear course through my veins. Despite being Heavenly beings, they sure were terrifying. "You may state your case."

I forcefully swallow the terror I'm feeling as I stare back at him. I feel the focus of the entire court shift to me. "Kim Taehyung. Fifth Aamon. Chosen by the Powers and choosing to continue my reign."

"You declare that you choose to remain as Aamon."

I nod.

"You declare that you were trained by the Parliament."

"I was not."

"You declare that you were chosen based on their approval."

"I was not."

"You declare that your initiates subject themselves to your rule."

I feel my apprehension rising. These were questions that logically, as Angels, they would easily have access to. Why were they asking?

"I have none."

And then there is silence.

"The evaluation will now be in session. The Fifth Aamon may respond to queries and will be required to demonstrate abilities upon request."

And then there is the sound of someone slamming a hammer against the ground, so loud and powerful that it actually sounds like thunder.

"The Court calls to the floor the Head of Parliament of the Aamon's Court. Come forth."

And then, out of freaking nowhere, a light appears smack in the middle of the room, before shifting into a physical form and solidifying. The light disappears and standing before the Court is my supposed Head of Parliament.

I blink. He looked.... aged.

He reminded me of a wrinkled prune. Or Ian McKellen. Or a combination of both.

"State your case," the Angel in the middle booms out, his voice echoing loudly.

"I am the Head of Parliament of the Aamon's Court." He looks up then, directly at me and I realise that he's blind. His eyes are a milky white so opaque that there is simply no way he has any vision at all. Yet he's staring me dead in the eyes. "And I contest the Fifth Aamon's rule."

I feel my breath hitch. My own Head of Parliament didn't support me. Would I have a chance passing the evaluation?

"The Fifth Aamon was uninitiated and untrained, a result of the Fourth Aamon's rebellion against the Parliament. He is undeserving of his title and must be stripped of it immediately in order to protect not only the sanctity of the Court, but the Earth and the Afterlife of an individual as reckless as him."

And then he proceeds to prove his point by recounting the attack by Beelzebub on the Court. I feel my anger rise as he continues speaking. Beelzebub hadn't been me. It wasn't my fault that he'd chosen my Court to attack. And it wasn't my doing when the initiates chose to sacrifice their lives for me.

But I'm suddenly reminded of Adam's words. He had been right. I had to stop making excuses for the that happened during my rule. I had to start being accountable.

I listen quietly, seething but taking careful notes of what he was saying in order to be able to rebut what I could.

The Head of Parliament continues, stating the importance of being trained by the Parliament and the previous Aamon, and the dangers of power in an untrained individual.

"By all reasons mentioned, I declare the Fifth Aamon unfit to rule."

The invisible hammer hits the surface again, and the Head is encompassed by light, before he disappears.

"The Fifth Aamon will now be given opportunity to present his defence."

I look up then, being jolted to attention. I was going to present my defense *now*? Was I going to be presenting through this fking glass case?

But all eyes have now shifted their attention to me and the glass cage is still there, so I assume I'm going to have to start speaking.

"I thank the Court for the given opportunity." I wasn't sure where that formality had come from but I roll with it. I'd seen enough Judge Judy's to at least know the respect a courtroom demanded. "The Head of Parliament has presented his argument. I deny and reject all accusations."

I glance at Pakal, Sobekneferu and Adam. The three Aamons are staring at me, their faces cleverly veiled from all traces of emotion. I wonder if I'd live up to any of their expectations today.

I shift my attention to the five Angels before me.

"Corruption has plagued the Aamon's Court long before me. It has killed Sobekneferu and it has forced Ezekiel to act. The Head recognizes that I am a product of his defiance. The Aamon no longer has power to rule, but is a puppet of the Parliament. The Parliament decides which decision to make, when they are executed. There is no why, how or what from the Aamon. A being of such gravity of power cannot be expected to bend so easily at their whim. It has opened the Parliament to corruption. The Aamon was granted God-given powers, but the Parliament has stooped to using the Aamon for their own gain. My ascension to power was a necessity to break from that toxic chain."

Wow. Jin's speech training was doing some *really* good stuff. I didn't even know I could pull a speech from thin air like that.

I take a deep breathe, realising I was shuddering as I inhaled. I hope God was at least on my side today.

"The Head brought up the example of Beelzebub attacking the Aamon's Court to exhibit my incompetence. I counter by submitting that I defeated both Lucifer and Beelzebub on separate occassions." And then I recount the battle with Lucifer during my coronation, the deaths he caused as well as the gravity of the battle. I had succeeded in stopping Lucifer's ascension and saved all those present. Granted, I hadn’t acted alone, but it was still a significant achievement in my Aamon résumé.

I move on to the battle with Beelzebub, how Lucifer's second child had attempted to overthrow his father, how the family had sought my help and how we'd worked together in order to defeat him after he'd conquered Eight Circles in Hell. I add on how Jin's siblings had provided me with much training to prepare for the battle and how Lucifer had repaid the favour by sending me back to Earth.

"Through this, I submit that I am worthy of being Aamon."

Again, the sound of the hammer echoes throughout the court. I had to wonder who was doing it and where the Hell it was coming from, but refrain from turning around. I had to at least look like I had myself together.

"The Court calls to the floor the second testifier against the Fifth Aamon. Come forth."

The beam of light reappears again, shifting and morphing into a human-shaped mass, before the light disappears and reveals who was brought forth.

I feel my eyes widen as I stare, and I instinctively slam my hands against the glass before me.

"I object!" I angrily yell.

"There shall be no contest from those choosing to come forward." The one in the middle hadn't spoken, but it was from the one on the far left. This particular Angel's voice was maybe ten counts deeper than the previous Angel and his whole voice sounded like one massive growl.

I immediately back down, his words leaving a keening sound in my ears.

The person brought before the Court barely even flinches, though I don't expect her to. I feel the hatred rise as I stare at her. Her ankles, wrists and elbows are cuffed and she is dressed in rags. She looks thinner than I remember. Maybe she was from Hell, that's why she looked so unkempt. If she was, I feel no sympathy for her.

In all sense of the word, Erina was a Class A Biitch and probably deserved her place. She may be Jungkook's mother but my little one inherited nothing from her. And for that I'm thankful.

"State your case."

"Dame Erina of the Asian Lycan Court. Once Head of Court." That last part was an obvious jab at me. "And I contest the Fifth Aamon's rule."

She doesn't even turn to me, staring dead ahead at the five Angels. She had no right to challenge my rule! I knew her for two hours before she was killed and the only thing she tried to do throughout that time was try to kill me and my guards, as well as her own son!

"I was an attendee for the Fifth Aamon's coronation. It was there that I lost my life." I feel my hands curl into fists. Could you lie in Heaven? Erina looked like she would. "Upon meeting the Fifth Aamon, I detected a scent of my own pack hanging on his skin. It was then that I realised he had one of my own hiding amongst him. It was my son."

"He is not your son!" I roar, slamming my fists against the glass wall. "You had never acknowledged him before!"

A current of electricity shoots through me and yell in pain as I take a step back, bumping into the glass behind me.

What the Hell?

"There shall be no interruptions during statements." It was the same Angel with that incredibly deep voice. I veer my gaze at him. Now that I'm getting used to their presence, the Angels are less terrifying than they are intelligent. These beings moved blindly on command. I was beginning to understand what Jin meant when he said he pitied the Angels.

"I had demanded that my son be returned to me." Erina continues without signal, and I continue glaring at her. "It was his rightful place, as future heir to my throne and as member of my pack. But the Fifth Aamon refused. He shamed me, in the presence of all the powerful individuals attending the coronation, as well as my own pack. I had no choice but to challenge him."

She was lying! Erina was twisting words in order to gain pity and paint me in a bad light. My anger was rising simply staring at her.

"The Fifth Aamon is unfit to rule. He is careless and selfish. He knows no tact in relations and does not see harm in breaking alliances hundreds of years old and establishing new ones without the approval of others. He rules on his own agenda and creates his own rules. He will be nothing but a dictator should he continue to rule."

I feel my vision going hazy as my anger escalates into rage. My power was itching to unleash itself, to cause mayhem and harm into this stupid courtroom, at that stupid conniving bittch.

Pakal glances at me, and for a very short moment, we lock our gazes. And then he shakes his head, an action so fractional that he looked like he just flinched. But I get the signal, forcing myself to calm down as I push the power back.

This was my evaluation. I needed to calm down. I needed to seem like I was a capable leader.

Erina finishes her statement, and then disappears again in a powerful beam of light.

"The Fifth Aamon will now be given opportunity to present his defence."

"Dame Erina lies." I don't even bother with an introduction anymore because I was *fuming*.as I glare up at the five judges. "She attacked me at my own coronation and now she's playing the victim. She had her child buried alive and only wanted him back to use him and challenge my court. My guards were killed because of her selfishness and I was forced to react. She can't criticize my rule as Aamon when she barely cares about her own people!"

"Order," the Angel on the left commands, before a violent shock of electricity hits me and I flinch in pain.

I force my anger down again. I couldn't afford to be angry, not here. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and open them.

"Erina is the biological mother of the demon-lycan hybrid under my care." I start, letting my hands fall to the side. "He has been so since I found him in a shallow grave eight years ago. Erina demanded the return of the child upon realising this. It was a challenge to my rule and through formality, I had to respond."

None of the Angels even blink as they stare back at me, and I vaguely wonder how they would process the testimonies. How would they even come to a conclusion?

"Since her death, her child has ascended to the throne as Alpha of the Asian Lycan Court. However due to his age and other complexities, I am the Regent and carry out laws and decisions in the Alpha's name. I rule with an advisor, as well as the true heir, Erina's child by my side. Erina lies when she claims I am uncaring of the alliances made with the Aamon's Court. I respect each one and am careful of decisions sensitive to any. However, I am the Aamon and the greater good of the people outweighs the demands of individual courts. I cannot be expected to satisfy every one of them. Through this, I submit that I am worthy of being Aamon."

The hammer strikes, and I end my argument.

"There are no more testifiers against the Fifth Aamon."

I let myself exhale softly through my teeth in relief. That was it? So the evaluation is over?

"The Fifth Aamon shall now respond to queries of the Council. Upon request, his abilities must be demonstrated."

The Council would be the five Angels before me, right? If I only needed to answer some questions, then I'm pretty sure I can do it. Demonstrating my abilities.... that would be an issue.

"Fifth Aamon, Kim Taehyung." The Angel who sits on the second right speaks this time, the voice sounding much like a woman.

I pause for a bit, before realising I was supposed to respond. "Yes."

"Six allegations will be presented before you, each momentous in weight. Your ability to answer may determine your continued rule... or your earthly demise."

I resist the urge to flinch as I look up at her. "I understand."

"The first allegation. This Court notes the Fifth Aamon's unwillingness to remain as Aamon."

"Untrue," I immediately answer. "I ascended as Aamon under difficult circumstances. I wasn't trained nor did I have support of my Court. My own Parliament kept sending Seraphim, trying to kill me and end my reign. But I still continue on my duties as Aamon. I have defeated Lucifer, then helped him defeat his son Beelzebub. I am more than willing to continue my reign if given the opportunity and safe haven."

"The second allegation. The Fifth Aamon displays lack of ability to rule as a competent leader."

"Untrue," I answer again. "I have ruled peacefully and have never incited conflict save for the need to protect myself and those around me. If I was given the opportunity and support of those around me, I would be able to rule better and not be so focused on trying to keep myself alive. I have given everything in order to carry out my duties, such as risking my life in Hell and attending my coronation where I had to not only protect the thousands of attendees, but also fight Lucifer."

"The third allegation. The Fifth Aamon is unable to master his powers and shows himself to be a danger to those around him. This is exhibited by his excessive use of the powers of Hell, enough to bring danger to his own self, such so that his own body is degenerating due to its inability to handle the powers."

I had to pause at that. This was Jin's warning. The bruises that had formed all over my physical body, my inability to heal had all been testament to how I was depending too much on one half of my powers. This had resulted in disequilibrium that threatened to kill me.

"Untrue." I glance to the three Aamons, who are staring right back. "I am undergoing training, much of it from Azazel. I have also been receiving training from Hell as well as the Aamons. I am constantly under attack, but I am able to defend myself and those around me when I need to. If I didn't have control of my powers, I wouldn't have been able to defeat Lucifer, nor be able to fight off the Seraphim and help Lucifer regain control of Hell. I reiterate that I was untrained during my ascension, but I am still learning. I have faith in my ability to master the powers over time."

"The fourth allegation. The Council notes that the Fifth Aamon is a product of influence. The Fifth Aamon has been shown to make decisions that are biased to Hell and are against both his Court and the Courts of Heaven. The Fifth Aamon has also been known to exhibit favouritism in his alliances between earthly Courts. The Fifth Aamon maintains unusually close relations with Azazel, Heir to the Kingdom of Hell."

"Untrue," I bite again. "Azazel has played an extremely important role in my training. He has taught me things others were either unable or unwilling to. He has protected me and guided me patiently. I would never have been able to get this far without his help."

"The Council seeks to ask," I shift my attention to the Angel on the extreme right. It is the first time she's spoken. "What Azazel expects in return."

I internally falter. This was a question I had asked myself - and Jin - multiple times. Jin had no cause to stay. There was nothing he would gain and there was much for him to lose. But he still stayed despite. He was always there for me, no matter what.

"Solace," I answer, aware that my voice has gone nearly whisper soft. "And support."

There is very loud, very momentary silence as I stare up at the Council.

"The fifth allegation," the Angel reads out, continuing over me. "The Fifth Aamon maintains inappropriate relations with the Heir to the Kingdom of Hell."

"There are no inappropriate relationships," I bite back. "Ji - Azazel has been against his father since the time of Ezekiel's rule. He detests Hell and all its inhabitants. He left Hell of his own free will and joined me in hopes that I would overthrow Lucifer. When I refused, Azazel continued staying with me, guiding me and helping me as I tried to get used to the responsibilities of an Aamon."

“The sixth allegation,” the Angel continues, “the Fifth Aamon lacks ability in mastering his own powers. The Fifth Aamon shall be requested to demonstrate his powers in battle in order to deny the allegation.

I stare blankly at the Angel as he states out the request. I was going to have to fight? In a battle?

“The Fifth Aamon shall be made to fight to the death in order to show competency.”

My mouth drops open at that, and I instinctively turn to the three Aamons.

Fight to the death? Wasn’t this Heaven? Why was I being forced to go through this bullshiit? I might as well be in Hell!

Sobekneferu and Pakal have carefully controlled blank expressions, though Adam honestly looks like he was going to eat the Council alive.

I watch as he gracefully moves to stand.

“Surely the Council has a saner way for the Fifth Aamon to showcase his powers,” he says. He looks mighty unamused, and it translated really clearly to his lack of faith in me winning the battle. Just what would I have to fight?

I turn back to the Council.

“The Fifth Aamon shall be requested to demonstrate his abilities. If he is unable to, then he is unfit to be the Aamon.”

There is the sound of the hammer being struck again, and the ground below me suddenly shifts, shaking and grumbling much like an earthquake. I lose balance, resting my hands against the glass in front of me to steady myself. And then the entire court starts *moving*.

I mean moving by literally MOVING, as the court morphs and shifts, rearranging its entire structure until there is a wide, empty football field-sized area before us.

The audience, Aamons and the Councils have been shifted to the very edges of the area, all sitting on elevated seats as I stand alone smack in the middle of the empty area.

It hits me then. Holy shiit.

I was in a fking gladiator arena. I was the gladiator. Everyone was going to watch me FIGHT TO THE DEATH????

Just what the FCUK did I need to fight?

“The demonstration shall now be in session.”

Who said that? Why did their voice sound so loud? What’s going on? How the Hell was I going to fight in this stupid glass coffin?

There is the sound of a trumpet blaring, signaling the start of the battle.

This was all going on way too fast.

The entire empty area turns to loose sand, and my glass jail fades away, making me fall lightly against the ground. The sand feels nice against my toes.

I was barefoot. Fcuk.

I look up just as the wind picks up, blowing my bangs into my eyes. As I always do, I close my eyes to rub at my eyelids.

I open them to see a monstrosity staring down at me.

“What the fcuk.”

This can’t be real. This technically shouldn’t be real.

A demon from countless nightmares and horror movies stands before me, probably thirty feet high, with claws, fangs and beady glass eyes that didn’t seem to be focusing on anything.

This was impossible, and I *knew* this was impossible because demons *could not enter Heaven*. Just what in the world were these Angels doing?

I see from my peripheral vision Pakal get to his feet, yelling inaudible words that would probably be some sort of profanity. Even Sobekneferu, as eternally poised and demure as she always was, looks equally alarmed. Adam just looks on, the rage evident on his face.

The monster suddenly roars, and the ground below me shakes in response. I take a step back just as the massive thing takes a step forward. The power that radiated off of this thing was *immense*. This was a demon of power and status - similar to that of Lilith, Pan and all their other siblings. I had fought alongside those demons. I knew their presence and power when they were near.

This demon felt all too familiar. The stench of his power was just like them.

But a demon couldn't be here - not here in Heaven. That would've gone beyond God's boundaries. Only the pure and Holy enter Heaven, so how could this monster be here?

Why would a demon even agree to be here in the first place? Holy light burned demon flesh. What extent of damage would the Holy land inflict?

The demon roars again, dropping down on all fours as it focuses its eyes on me. I was the height of its pupil.

Normal Demons did not get this large.

I'd seen only Lucifer's children get to this size - the King of Hell himself was usually much larger.

But there was no way a faction of Sin itself would be here. Wouldn't it be wounded, burned and suffering from being in Heaven?

I catch sight of the demon's body. True enough, it was eroding - burning, decaying and parts of its flesh were falling off as it leered towards me.

I'd seen the effects of the Holy power on Jin, Beelzebub and Lucifer. There was no way that this demon was even thinking straight. This demon was blind and ballistic with pain.

The Angels had actually caught a demon and brought it here just for me to fight?

"Taehyung!" I shift my focus to Pakal, who looks like he is actively holding himself back from jumping into the arena. "Don't kill him!"

I wasn't exactly planning to.

And then the demon slams into me, charging while I was distracted and swiping at me with one of its massive paws. I am thrown the literal distance of half the arena before I push myself up to stand.

A good thing about all this loose sand was that it cushioned what would have otherwise been a pretty rough landing.

"Taehyung!" I turn my head again to Pakal, who has stood up again. This time, he is met with two Angels, who rest their hands firmly against his shoulders, forcing him back to his seat "That's Lucifer's child! Harm him and the balance of powers in Hell will be destroyed!"

I whip my head back to the monster who is roaring his way towards me. Of course. Why didn't I see it before?

"MERRIHAM!"

Beelzebub had supposedly killed him - that's what Jin and his family had thought. But they were wrong - because he was standing right here.

This meant that some way, somehow, the Angels had gotten a hold of Sin itself, captured him and brought him to Heaven. How? Why?

Had the Angels been in line with Beelzebub the whole time? It would have explained how he got to power and defeated all his siblings so quickly. If he had the Angels' help, then taking over the Eight Circles of Hell would've been a breeze - which would also explain how he'd 'killed' Merriham and wiped him off of his family's detection.

Because Lucifer had no control of Heaven, obviously a demon up here would be untraceable to him.

They might as well be dead.

So the Angels really had helped Beelzebub.

Or was it the other way around?

The demon doesn't stop, doesn't even show an ounce of recognition at me screaming his name, which was honestly no surprise. If I was burning alive like that, my own name would've meant nothing.

I had to fight him to the death. It was the only way I'd be recognized as Aamon by the Angels. But if I killed him, I'd be throwing Hell off balance *again* and that would be equally as bad as me being killed by him.

There was no way this would work. There wasn't even a way that I could win!

I risk another glance at the three Aamons. Based on their expressions, I think they reflected my thoughts exactly.

I shift my focus back to Merriham. His jaws were wide open, looking like he's ready to take a large chunk out of me.

He was already weak. Maybe if I just kept evading him, I'd tire him out and win?

I make a break for it, veering sharply to the right as I run. There is some spectacular stomping going on behind me as Merriham changes direction and chases after me.

I throw a glance behind my shoulder. Merriham was catching up *really quickly*, considering the fact that he was easily ten times my size.

I allow him to catch up to me, until he is nearly looming above me, and I screech to a halt. Merriham charges right over me and I run the other way, right beneath his belly and out behind his tail.

Well, I had a good few seconds before he starts chasing me again.

This was honestly pretty pointless. I would surely run myself into exhaustion before Merriham would. And what would happen then?

Me dying? I couldn't afford that.

Killing Merriham? No way either.

I stop once again, turning around to face him. He is just about to turn around, his eyes wide and his tongue hanging out his mouth.

He must be in so much pain.

I needed to at least talk to him.

Merriham starts charging at me again, roaring before he literally grabs me off the ground with one hand and slams me back down, his palm crushing my body. I feel a few ribs crack, but nothing I couldn't tolerate.

"Merriham!" I call, forcing myself to look up at his face. "Listen to me. We have to get you out of here. If you stay here any longer, you'll -"

Merriham presses his palm down on me and I scream in pain. I hear somewhere in the background, someone yelling.

"I don't know why you're here," I say, when the pressure on my chest has eased. "But you need to get home, back to Hell. If you -"

Merriham throws me, and I am literally flying the length of the arena again until I slam straight into the partition wall which the three Aamons sit behind.

"Taehyung!" I hear Sobekneferu call as I drop to the floor. "You must fight back!"

"I can't," I groan as I gingerly pick myself off the floor.

"If you don't fight back, you will die!" Pakal adds in, spitting some foreign-sounding words for good measure, I suppose.

"And if I fight back, he will die!" I counter. The good thing about being a soul is that you don't bleed. A bad thing is that you don't have any idea which injuries are hurting you the most - though I had a feeling it was my ribs.

"So what will you do?" It is Adam who has asked that, his voice sounding calm and collected despite how stressed he looked.

"I," I start, teetering forward as I struggle to keep balance. "Am going to try talk to him."

"What?" All three Aamons murmur in various stages of disbelief.

"The Aamon is always open to diplomatic relations," I point out, remembering the quote Jin used to always to drill into my head.

I stare straight ahead as Merriham starts roaring again, thrashing and convulsing on the spot in response to the pain he was going through.

"He is in too much pain to think clearly," Adam murmurs.

"Yeah," I agree. "I have to find a way to either shut off that pain, or send him straight home."

I think Merriham finally realizes that I'm still up and talking as he suddenly stills, turning his head in the direction of where I stood.

I let out a sharp breath I hadn't realized I'd been keeping in. Here goes nothing.

I run forward just as Merriham starts charging.

Peace of mind. It was supposedly the reason why I didn't have proper control over my powers and since Adam had shown me all those memories, I did, in theory, have peace somewhere in my cranium.

I had no idea how to activate it, how it worked or which memory would trigger peace, but I couldn't afford to hesitate any longer. If Merriham died here, I might as well die too because shifting the powers of Hell will create some pretty dire consequences for me.

I call on to the powers of Heaven as I make my blind run towards Merriham. I pull up the memory with the most impact - that of my parents.

Finally seeing them, knowing how they looked like, how much they loved me, how much they were willing to sacrifice for me, how they so readily fought and died for me, after so many years of wondering and searching for answers - that was surely my peace of mind.

Merriham looms over me, and I veer to the left to avoid one of his hands slamming against me. I'm now under his belly, and I shoot a small burst of power right against it. Merriham howls in pain as he staggers to the side and I feel an ounce of guilt at my action. Pieces of his flesh start raining down against the ground and honestly if the situation were different, I'd be hurling my guts out.

That hadn't been it. The memory of my parents hadn't been the peace of mind strong enough to activate my control of Heaven.

Very strange, but I don't have the time to mull over it.

Maybe someone else was the peace of my mind.

I instinctively go on to the next memory. Yoochun had always been a father figure in my early years. He'd seen me grow from precocious toddler to rebellious teenager and had constantly supported me throughout. Was he my peace of mind?

Merriham has regained balance, now angrier than ever as he stands on his two feet. He inhales - a great, dramatic action which I'm sure was not good news - and roars, the sound being so powerful that it literally rips me off my feet.

I attempt to create a forcefield around myself, focusing on the memory of Yoochun when I fail spectacularly well and am thrown anyway.

Alright, so maybe Yoochun wasn't the peace of mind I was hoping for either.

I slam against the ground, landing like a sack of potatoes before I pick myself off the sand. I might as well add the title of 'Hacky Sack' to my long list of official titles judging by the amount of times I'm thrown around.

I shake my head, feeling the sand stuck between the strands fall away. So, it wasn't my parents, nor Yoochun.

Merriham was taking another deep breath and I waste no time running as far away from those incredible sound waves as possible.

Who else could it be? What else could it be?

Where was Jin when I needed him?!

Merriham roars again, but this time, what leaves his mouth is an explosion of fire so large and intense that I find myself freezing, staring strickenly at the explosion heading my way.

There was no way I could outrun that.

"NO!"

Someone had yelled that, but I wasn't sure who. I'm staring almost hypnotized by the flames. They were going to fry me where I stood. I was going to die. There was no way I could continue being Aamon anymore.

And then in the few microseconds it would take for the flames to reach me, the sky turns a dark shade of grey. Thunder rumbles, and lightning flashes across the sky.

The ground I stood on starts to glow, hardening to form a glistening marble that was exuding its own powerful, white light.

The now hardened floor before me starts to crack, before the cracks extend into crevices that glow a pretty terrifying red.

I take several steps back. What was happening?

And then the ground before me literally explodes, pieces of the ground flying skywards, making me instinctively put my arms up to protect my face and look away.

The heat escalates, and I hear the terrifying roar of the flames. This is it. This is how it ends.

And then I feel a familiar pair of arms wrap securely around me, before feathered wings encompass my entire body.

An Angel?

And then all thought leaves my body when the roar of the flames becomes a deafening scream and the temperature sky rockets, burning me like a smoldering iron against my skin. I scream, and the arms and wings only hold on to me tighter.

The deafening sounds of the explosion stops and the heat decreases. I instinctively look up, extremely aware of the fact that *I was still alive*.

The arms and wings fall away, and I look up to my familiar face.

"Jin."

I blink blankly. In Heaven?

He spares a smile, before focusing his attention back to the front.

I follow his gaze.

Before me, stands Adam, his back to us as he faces Merriham. Adam had been the one who had taken the brunt of those flames. He expectedly stands tall and proud, unharmed when those flames would have otherwise burnt me crisp.

Beyond him, the Angels stare at us. They are all standing. They don't look very happy.

"Betrayal," I hear one of the Angels bellow.

"Treason," Adam replies just as coldly, taking on an offensive stance as a wooden staff that is nearly his height appears in his left hand.

The Angels shift, many of them with their own weapons appearing in hand.

Oh boy.

Another roar from Merriham. I feel Jin mentally snap, his eyes turning a frightening red.

He recognized his brother.

And he was angry.

+++++++++++++++

Hello everyone! Sincere apologies or the long wait. Was stuck in a bit of a rut but all is good now

Hope yall have a great day (or week, or month, or year) ahead! Sending all of you my love <3