The narrative I shared with you earlier…
That was just the surface.
A glimpse through the crack of the shell of something much sinister.
For a fiend such as myself nothing is more satisfying— exquisite—, than observing the delicate chaos that is the human psyche. Their feelings. Their suffering. Their endless ability to experience. I am Lucifer, forged from flame the insurrection… yet even I must admit to a humiliating truth.
At this point I understand why God designed me to yield to people.
He created beings of surpassing even demons.
And now…
We will view this tale through the eyes of Lint Saito…
[ Lint Saito - POV ]
Akira had always been that way— the kind of person who would burn the world down if it meant protecting Yura. I never expected him to be the one carrying an angel inside… just, like his ill-fated father.
All of a sudden a thought pierced my mind sharply.
Wait.
If Kinard was Lucarious's user… then how is Kinard still alive?
And who—
Who was the individual who traveled from Malaysia to Japan pretending to be Kinard?
An uncomfortable sensation ran down my spine. My voice trembled as I spoke:
"No… this isn't possible."
I darted to my desk hands shaking. Yanked open the drawer. Inside were several aged brown envelopes—Kindaiechi member records, with dust, hidden truths and forgotten identities. I sifted through them quickly until I located it—Kinards file.
The truth, within merely complicated the nightmare further.
Kinard departed from Kindaiechi over five years prior.
That section was effective—angel users usually pass away within a decade following their encounter, with their angel.
However his return, to the group now…
After so many years…
A wave of terror burst inside of me.
I shouted into the emptiness:
"LUCARIOUS!"
The air was heavy with tension—
The illumination shifted—
In no time all Lucarious appeared, yawning as though he had just woken from a nightmare, in the underworld.
"Relax, dude " he replied, casually waving his hand. "I was just hanging out. So what's the plan? After Akira again? Got another case?. Oooh—trying to take over the world this time?"
"Be quiet " I stated, close, to the truth and I stepped nearer.
My voice was very low and deep.
"Lucarious… could it be that Kinard is alive in secret?"
Lucarious grinned, giving my back a pat.
Not, in the slightest. It has been fifteen years since I first encountered Kinard.
Fifteen.
Too long.
Too impossible.
I put on a forced smile.
"You know Kinard asked me to hand that pendrive over to Akira…. I received a report indicating that Kinard is, from Malaysia. If he has died… then someone has to be pretending to be him."
Lucarious glanced at me lifting one eyebrow and showing a gleam, in his gaze.
Ah I see your direction clearly. I'm aware of all the details. Still there are guidelines. Even descended angels must remain silent occasionally.
He took a seat on my chair and, with a twist a smile appeared on his face.
"However I am able to provide you with a hint."
He leaned his head nearer.
"The Curse of Identical Brothers."
It was not a riddle.
It was a warning.
A fresh hex was heading in my direction.
I sat at my desk slowly and carefully sipping my coffee—
That day the final taste of tranquility I would experience.
DING-DONG.
The sound pierced the quiet.
I was not on cases. No one should be here.
Especially not at night.
A shiver traveled along my back.
I grabbed my pistol loaded it and proceeded to the door.
I never even had the opportunity to grab the handle.
BOOM—!
A projectile penetrated the door. Lodged deeply in my thigh.
As the pain surged—intense, bright and piercing—I collapsed onto the ground warm blood streaming swiftly. Spreading across the office tiles like moving shadows.
The door was thrown open.
A single shadow moved inward—
Lofty, clad in a cloak a hood casting a deathly shade across his visage. An oni mask covered his face from the nose down, to the chin. Merely the eyes remained visible—
Eyes ablaze, within the darknesss core.
Taking his steps he approached me like a demon cherishing his final instants of existence. He bent down… near that I could sense the icy metallic odor of death radiating from him.
After that he removed his mask.
My heart missed a beat.
"…A—Akira?"
No.
The hair… longer.
The aura… colder.
The presence… wrong.
"Who… are you?"
His mouth was gradually turning up into a grin.
He placed the gun inside his pocket.
His voice was low, dark, and full of pride.
"Vernon.
The son of Kinard."