"So you still mourn her," I said quietly. It wasn't even a question. I had seen the hatred and longing in his eyes, just as clearly as I had seen the desire to burn everything down alongside it. "Even now, after all this time. How long have you lived? Eons?"

"Every second," he answered, the smile that touched his lips was thin and hollow. "I mourn what I lost, but more than that, I mourn what I could have chosen. I wish I hadn't made her with the desire for kindness. I wish I hadn't waited so long to retaliate against the gods… and I wish I hadn't been a coward."

Asmodeus turned his face away. The crimson glow bathed his features as a single tear slipped down his cheek, indistinguishable from the countless others that had gone into forming this Lake of Grief.

"I wish that when they came for her, I had overturned the heavens instead of pathetically begging at their feet," he said with palpable bitterness.

I made a genuine effort not to comment. I failed. "And that's when you joined the Spirit King."

Asmodeus glanced back at me, the smile on his lips turned a little amused at that. "He offered me the power to exact my revenge, and I offered him my agreement. It was a beautiful arrangement."

I let out a tired breath and rolled my eyes. "Instead of waging a holy war, couldn't you have just… gone to therapy?"

A soft laugh escaped him. "Oh, I did. I vaporized the therapist."

I snorted.

•••

"So," he said after a while, finally asking the question I had been waiting to hear, "why are you here? Don't get me wrong, I'm ecstatic to see you. But after trying so desperately hard to avoid me, going through all that of not sleeping all these days, even during a journey as exhausting as the one you're on, why come seek me now?"

I sighed and stepped forward, swinging my arm in a smooth underhand motion as I released the bowling ball. It rolled down the lane with a low rumble before crashing into all ten pins.

It was a clean strike, earning me ten points. That put me at ninety-four to his seventy-nine. I was in complete lead now.

Yes, the Prince of Temptations was many things.

A good bowler was not one of them.

And yes. We were bowling.

After our walk atop the Lake of Grief, the next scene that was conjured in his dream was a mall.

Oh, and somewhere along the way, he had decided to become a she, and she had dragged me along to watch a movie together.

It was the worst movie I had ever seen in my life.

The ML and FL were idiots who refused to acknowledge the painfully obvious romantic chemistry between them, and the jokes felt so on the nose that I half-expected them to announce the punchlines in advance.

We sat side by side in the dim theater, a bucket of popcorn between us. There wasn't anyone else around.

She had opted for long dark hair and an oversized hoodie, and she ate loudly throughout the entire screening without a hint of shame.

The movie climaxed with a bittersweet montage and swelling music, followed immediately by what was, once again, the worst ending I had seen in a long while. The hero and heroine simply went their separate ways and moved on with their lives.

Yes! They didn't even get together!

It was so shitty, it made me want to throw hands with the director!

Naturally, to clear the mood after that disaster, we wandered into the arcade area and eventually found ourselves in the bowling alley.

And right now, she was pouting because I was winning.

"Could you drop the cute girl act?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. "Just get into your true form."

"But this is my true form," she replied easily, smirking as she stepped up to choose a ball. "Whatever form I take becomes my true form. It's hardly my fault you find me cute."

I made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a scoff.

She was about my height and looked roughly the same age. Even beneath the loose, baggy clothes, it was obvious her body was made to tempt.

…For some reason, she reminded me a lot of Juliana.

Which was ridiculous!

Because while Juliana was a gold digger, she couldn't have been more different from a crimson-eyed, black-haired, immoral, manipulative demoness with an undying hunger for revenge and power—

Oh…

Okay. Maybe she wasn't that different after all.

"Now," Asmodeus said, hefting a bowling ball that was clearly too heavy for her slender arm, "answer my question."

She sent it rolling down the lane.

…Straight into the gutter.

Gods, she was terrible.

I leaned back against the couch behind us. It was empty. The entire mall was empty, like I mentioned. I wondered who was operating this bowling alley.

"I wanted to ask you about your brother," I said. "The Sixth one."

Earlier, I had gone over the names of every Demon Prince I could remember in my mind. Every single one came easily, except for him. The Sixth. There was not one detail I could remember about him. Not his name, not his image — nothing at all.

Which was deeply unsettling, considering every one of the Spirit King's generals played a crucial role in the events leading up to the final battle.

"…Why?" Asmodeus squinted at me, then her brows lifted as realization dawned on her face. "Oh. Wait. Don't tell me you're already there. The Valley of the God Who Eats Is. Did he get one of you?"

My eyes widened at that!

Yes!

The God Who Eats Is.

Right. I remembered. I remembered now that was his— his… ugh…

Ah, fuck.

The moment I tried to focus on it, the name slipped away again, leaving behind a dull ache in my head as if my thoughts were being sanded down from the inside.

Asmodeus noticed. Because why wouldn't she?

"Ahh, that must be the effect of his mask," she said thoughtfully. "You know, he was my best friend. My only loyal friend, actually, before he was corrupted."

Her gaze drifted to the scoreboard, but her expression remained distant. "If only he had chosen my side in the end."

She rolled her shoulders a moment later, as if physically shedding the weight of the memory, and turned her attention back to me. "So why should I help you?"

I suppressed the urge to sigh. Naturally, she was going to ask for a price. Because, again, why wouldn't she?

"What do you want?" I asked.

A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes as she stepped closer, wearing the most devilish smile I had ever seen on a girl, the tips of her canines catching the light.

"I don't want much," she murmured, invading way too much of my personal space than I would've appreciated. "Just say my—"

"I'm not saying your name," I interrupted.

"Tch. Worth a try." She stepped back, clicking her tongue and reverting to her usual mannerisms. "Fine. I'll tell you."

I frowned at her. "Nothing in return? Really?"

"Don't look so shocked," she said lightly. "I've taken a liking to you. You're interesting, which is more than I can say for most mortals these days. Still… it isn't free."

Of course it wasn't.

"I only have one condition," she continued, picking up another ball and sending it down the lane. This time, it knocked all the pins down for a spare. "The next time you see me, you listen to what I have to say. I'll ask my questions then."

I chose a ball and bowled. It was a bad throw. Only three pins fell. The next roll was worse, knocking down just one.

Argh. This always happened!

I'd always start strong but slow down toward the end.

Still, it was fine.

I was holding onto roughly a ten-point lead. "Sorry to break it to you, but I'm not planning on meeting you ever again. Not unless it's in the real world, and I'm killing you."

She shook her head, clearly amused at my blatant declaration, like I had said something childish. "Oh, but you will. Remember how our fates are connected? I can feel it."

This time, when she bowled, she knocked down three pins on the first roll.

…And seven on the next.

…It was another spare.

The final score flipped. Her ninety-nine. My ninety-eight.

She won.

After admiring the scoreboard again, she turned to me with a manic grin. "You, Samael Kaizer Theosbane, are going to die today."

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