Upon crash-landing, Jeonghan is immediately escorted to an ominous-looking building.

He does not get the chance to sightsee, but that does not bother him.

“Please wait here,” the boy commands, disappearing into thin air.

Jeonghan’s lips twist in a grudging smile.

Younglings of Hell are indeed interesting.

“The Emperor awaits.”

Bright flashes of white light, explosions of black smoke.

Jeonghan coughs, negative prints of the room burning behind his eyelids.

“Godingdammit, Wonwoo,” a voice mutters. “I told you not to overdo it.”

Jeonghan cannot help but laugh in disdain.

“Emperor of Hell, huh?” he mocks. “And yet you curse with the word G-”

Jeonghan finds himself unable to utter the word.

The name of his once…

“You will find, Yoon Jeonghan,” the voice, dripping with scorn, states. “That most demons of Hell cannot curse as I can.”

Out of the smoke emerges a figure, tall and imposing, features hard, eyes cold.

The Emperor of Hell.

He sneers, throwing himself backwards onto a dark red couch.

“Why were you thrown out?” he asks bluntly.

Jeonghan looks him up and down, not answering.

“Answer me, why were you kicked out of Heaven?”

Jeonghan tilts his head coldly, studying this boy, obviously younger than him.

The boy suddenly sighs resignedly, running a hand through his jet black hair.

It is only now that Jeonghan notices, and he staggers back, as if struck a physical blow.

The boy’s hair falls to just above his shoulders, only slightly shorter than his own.

He notices, and smirks, dropping his hand.

“Oh yes, Jeonghan,” he says in a husky voice. “I know. Of course I know.”

But he doesn’t.

“Call me Jun.”

Jeonghan, eyes wide, not believing, can only stare at the boy’s features.

Brown eyes, suddenly warm.

Crooked smile, suddenly genuine.

Jeonghan lowers his eyes and pushes himself up, off the floor.

Jun’s eyes lose brightness, and he lets his hand drop.

“I see how it is,” he says quietly. “Seokmin.”

“Here.”

“Take him to Wing A.”

Jeonghan is hustled out of the room.

On a whim, he looks back and sees Jun looking out the window, hands clasped behind his back.

Back straight, as if he were forcing himself to hold on.

And the door closes.