The large demon began to shake. Enochia's eyes widened as he floated a bit into the air, defying gravity. "What the—?" she yelped, stumbling back a step.

  Then mere seconds later, a blast came over her, sending both her and Cervain staggering back a bit. Cervain lifted his cape in front of her, blocking the ash and debris from peppering Enochia's face. She coughed, waving a hand through the haze, and soon realized all her chains were destroyed. "Oh, you gotta be shitting me!"

  She quickly got into a stance to cast them again, while Cervain drew his sword with a metallic shing, ready to turn this guy into demon kebab. But they were soon proven that that was not necessary. The demon slowly glided down, before he began to dissolve—horns crumbling, armor melting away into wisps of black smoke. Mere seconds later, the man who Enochia saw in that entrance was there, laying on the floor.

  She was a bit confused, blinking dumbly as the guy gasped for air. "Uh... Leon? Buddy?" She used an [Analysis] out of habit, but nothing came to her?

  "What's wrong with him, besides being fucking exorcised, Roo?"

  [It seems that the angel who was giving the man his power, had abandoned him.]

  "Wait, you all can do that!?" Enochia blurted, her voice pitching up in shock.

  [Only the Fallen Angels can abandon their hosts.]

  This gave Enochia a chill, remembering that she was less than perfect at times to Roo... Wait, why? Roo wasn't a fallen angel. Right?

  [Those of us from the heavenly court were assigned at birth to each human, and I was thus assigned to watch over you.]

  This made Enochia smile a bit.

  [Thus, my presence in your life is non-negotiable, by either you or me.]

  "Hehe, glad to have you with me then," she muttered aloud, the grin sticking as she lowered her guard, glancing back at the now-human Leon.

  He began to compose himself after coughing hard a few times, his chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon. Enochia quickly came to his side, dropping to one knee beside him without a second thought. She pulled out a crab soup from her inventory, not caring that she only had a few left; hell, this guy looked like he needed the good stuff.

  The crab shell filled with the soup appeared in her hand. She held the man's head with her other one, cradling it softly against her palm. "Shh shh shh, easy there, big guy," she murmured, her voice dropping to that rare, soothing tone she usually saved for civilians she saved. "You're safe now. Just drink up, yeah? It'll help chase the nasty away."

  Leon continued to cough, but he leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering open, hazy at first, like he was waking up from a nightmare. He drank slowly, lips parting for the warm liquid as she tilted the shell carefully, not spilling a drop. His hand came up, trembling but steady enough to hold hers, fingers wrapping around her wrist in a weak but grateful grip. "Th-thank you..." he rasped between sips, his voice cracking like dry earth, but clearer with each swallow.

  "There ya go," Enochia cooed, rubbing small circles on the back of his neck with her thumb, like she was calming a spooked animal. "Slow breaths, Leon. Whatever that fallen feather-duster did to you, it's gone. You've got this. Just focus on the taste, huh? Kinda salty, right? But I bet it tastes good."

  The coughing eased into shallow breaths, his grip on her hand tightening just a fraction, but not in pain, more like he was anchoring himself to the moment.

  By the time the soup was half-gone, he managed a weak nod, pulling back a bit to meet her gaze.

  And as soon as he did, weak though he may have been, he began to scream his lungs out, or what was left of them, anyway. It started as a choked gasp, then erupted into weak, rasp gurgles that built into a full-on wail.

  His eyes locked onto her face with pure, unfiltered horror. "D-DEMON!" he howled, the word tearing out in a wet, sputtering mess as he thrashed backward, limbs flailing in a desperate scramble to get away from her as fast as possible.

  The sudden frenzy caught Enochia off guard, and his elbow knocked the crab shell from her grip, sending the rest of the soup splattering across the floor. "Hey, what's the big deal? That was good soup!" she yelped, more annoyed than alarmed at first, staring at the steaming puddle.

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  His voice trembled, pitching higher with each frantic breath as he clawed at the ground, dragging himself back inch by inch. "Not—not again! Was this not enough? Why have you abandoned me, God? WHY?"

  Tears streamed down his grimy cheeks, mixing with snot and sweat, his whole body shaking like a leaf in a storm. He was panicking hyperventilating, eyes darting wildly as if expecting more shadows to lunge from the corners.

  Thinking she knew why, she sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "Cervain, sheathe your sword, big fella. You're scaring the poor guy."

  But as she finished her sentence, Leon's scream cut through again, sharper this time: "DEMON!" And oh shit, she realized he meant her.

  "Look, guy, I know—" she started, holding up her hands like she was approaching a feral cat.

  "DEMON!" he shrieked again, cutting her off mid-word, his voice cracking into a sob as he kept crawling.

  "Dont you fucking see I'm just like you, idiot!" she snapped back, frustration bubbling up alongside the pity. But he wasn't listening, hell, he probably couldn't, lost in whatever trauma-fueled flashback had him by the balls.

  "Not again... please, not again... God, why? Was the torment not enough? The claws, the fire—why send another?" He curled into a fetal ball, hands clasped in desperate prayer, muttering feverish pleas under his breath, ignoring her completely like she was just another hallucination from the depths.

  Enochia stood there, frozen for a beat, watching the guy unravel. It hit her then—demons really were, well, hellish. The fear in his eyes wasn't fake. ‘What did they do to him, for him to have such a reaction…’

  "Hey, idiot! You can clearly fucking see I'm not like those guys, so chill your tits!" she yelled, but it bounced off him like rain on stone, his prayers only getting louder. She rubbed her face, groaning.

  The man's prayer finally died down, his voice trailing off into hoarse whispers until it sputtered out completely. Enochia's shoulders relaxed a fraction, a small smile creeping back onto her face.

  'Attaboy.' she thought, pulling out another soup from her inventory, the second to last of the good batch. In all honesty, she greatly pitied the man. She got lucky with her guardian angel. But that dude's soul must have been molested by a fallen angel. Being a meat puppet, must have sucked. No wonder he flipped his shit.

  She got up and started walking towards him, thinking she wasn't gonna ask him the specifics; hell, they didn't matter at all. The guy was now safe, human again, and that was all that mattered.

  She was glad that she didn't feel anything, like disgust for humans, now that she was a demon, which in her mind only proved that demons killed humans for no great joy or priority, but because there existed pure evil, and it was baked into them.

  She got to the man, crouched down low, holding her soup out like an olive branch, and smiled that grin of hers. "I knew you would get it. Now look, I'm almost out of soup, but if you promise not to spill it again, I'll let you have this one as well, deal?"

  She got no response, which worried her... like, instantly. "Leon? Hey, you good?"

  Soon she realized the man wasn't moving, and that he wasn't even breathing, his chest frozen mid-heave. Panic spiked in her gut, her smile vanishing as her eyes went wide. "Oh shit—oh shit, no no no—"

  Panicking now, she threw the soup away without a thought and laid him flat on his back. Her clawed gauntlet of a hand accidentally scratched the man's arm, drawing a thin line of blood, but she didn't even seem to realize it, too focused on the crisis exploding in front of her. "C'mon, don't do this—breathe, dammit!"

  She felt for a pulse, fingers pressing too hard in her frenzy, and found a really, really weak thrum until it stopped completely with her finger on his wrist. "No—fuck, NO!"

  "CERVAIN—GO THE FUCK BACK TO THE VILLAGE AND SEE IF THEY HAVE SOME HEALING ITEMS!" she barked. Cervain didn't hesitate, bolting out in a blur of black, cape whipping behind him.

  'What do I do—what the fuck do I do?!' Not knowing exactly what else to try in the meantime, she began to do chest compressions on him, remembering some half-assed CPR course from back on Earth, knowing she needed to make blood flow to his brain. "C'mon, Leon—stay with me—"

  But she underestimated her new strength and forgot this man wasn't powered up by the system and was just a squishy, normal human. Even her lightest push cracked his ribcage with a sickening snap, and her gauntleted hands sank in like they were plunging through soggy paper, caving his sternum in a wet, gruesome collapse. Blood bubbled up fast, drenching her fingers as his body went slack.

  Enochia sat there, staring at the cooling blood on her gauntlets. The initial panic ebbed, leaving her in that weird, floaty space where shock should've turned into full-blown meltdown. But nope. Zilch. No gut-wrenching sobs, no urge to hurl from the gore, no soul-crushing regret. Just this... flatline. Like her emotions had hit a brick wall and bounced off into nowhere.

  She waited another beat, searching for that spark of humanity, that twist of remorse that'd prove she wasn't completely gone. But it didn't show.

  And that's when the real horror kicked in, which wasn’t the kill, but the nothing. If she couldn't muster even a scrap of sorry for splattering a guy's insides...

  'No. I'm nothing like them. I can't be.' But the lack gnawed deeper. She hated herself for not feeling—hated the numbness more than the act, because it meant she was changing, slipping into something soulless without even noticing. 'You're supposed to care, dammit. That's what makes you you.You’re not supposed to be like them.'

  The hate boiled over, and before she knew it, her fists were clenched, slamming down on her own thighs hard enough to bruise even her armored skin. "FEEL SOMETHING, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"

  She punched again, gauntlets thudding against her armor with metallic clangs, the pain registering but not enough—not nearly enough to fill the void. "COME ON—HATE YOURSELF! CRY! SOMETHING!" Tears finally came, but not from guilt.

  She rocked back, forehead pressed against her knees as she raised her fists to hit herself again. But Cervain was faster, his armored hands clamping down on her wrists mid-swing, holding her steady, not hurting but firm enough to stop her cold.

  "Die… Just die, you fucking demon.”