X X V - [ C H R I S T I A N A ]

the one appointed by my son to be his right hand." Daemon's father—says, looking me up and down. "I'm impressed, you've survived the first three circles when no one else have."

"So I've heard—" I start, but he doesn't seem to be finished and cuts me off.

"And you're a human nonetheless," Nodding in approval, he lets a grin that is strikingly similar to Daemon's creep onto his face. "I see that my son's capable of choosing what's best for him now."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow at him.

Draven looks somewhat taken aback by my words, but instead of getting furious, the amusement in his eyes seem to grow instead. "My, you've got quite an attitude there, haven't you? I didn't know that Daemon had a liking towards girls who fight back."

"Neither do I," I deadpan, not understanding the point of this conversation. "So what is it that I'm supposed to be doing here, again?"

"Ah, yes. That." He replies, looking as if he had genuinely forgotten about my purpose in the Circle. "You are here to—"

"DRAVEN!"

Draven takes in a deep breath before sighing and raising one finger out in front of him to indicate that I should wait. He then swivels his head at the direction of the sound and says, "Yes, father?"

My eyes widen in alarm. ?

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Comes the reply from... Daemon's ?

"No, father, I'm talking to Daemon's right hand." Draven answers, a light shade of pink tinting his cheeks.

"Daemon's right hand, you say?"

All of a sudden, a figure appears beside Draven and he scoots over to make room for his own father. As the dark mist clears up, it reveals a man who looks about the same age as Draven himself, but with stronger features that perhaps make him look a couple years older. Still, though, the first thought I get when I see him is this: Daemon's grandfather is handsome.

And as wrong and utterly strange the words sound, there is no use denying it because it is, in fact, mere observation that I presume no one would be able to argue with.

"Hello there, my dear. I am Draven's father, Lucifer." He introduces himself, one hand extended towards me.

I take his hand and shake it. "So you are... Daemon's ?" I reluctantly ask, not wanting to agitate him.

"Yes, I suppose you can call me the grandfather of your lover. Though I must say, I being called a grandfather, it makes me feel so old."

I want to point out the fact that Daemon isn't my , but Draven states first, "Father, you're over . You old."

Daemon's grandfather ignores him and turns to me instead. "Dear, do I look old?"

"Uhm, no, Sir." I answer immediately, because in all honesty, he doesn't look that old, not really.

A smug grin appears on his face as he turns to Draven. He pats him hard on the shoulders, saying, "See, boy? Just because I'm two thousand five hundred and twelve years old doesn't mean I it."

"Of course not, father, we're . We don't age." Draven sighs, rubbing his temples as if he had gotten a headache.

I think, but quickly shake my was to drive the thoughts away.

It's weird that these demons seem so... , what with all their oh-so-normal conversations and humane actions. They don't even particularly to be that threatening, so it's rather hard to imagine them as former rulers of Hell. I've got a feeling, however, that when they don't get things the way they want, I will eat my words about them not being a threat.

"Sorry, uh," I start, and the two of them stops talking to see what I have to say. "Aren't the both of you supposed to be... ?"

I wish there was a nicer way to ask that, but obviously there is no sugar-coating death, so I decided to get straight to the point.

"Oh, we are." Draven replies, nodding as if death is such a normal thing—and it is, I suppose.

"Then...?"

"What exactly did my grandson tell you, miss..."

"Ch—I mean Laufeia, Sir." I correct, knowing well that my name means . "Daemon told me that once someone in the Lucifer line turns six hundred and sixty-six years old, they will die and turn to ash."

"Well, Sweetheart, he's not wrong about turning to ash." Draven shrugs nonchalantly. "What he doesn't know is that though we turn to ash before the occupants of Hell, we end up here in the fourth circle as... How you say... of this level. Also, we are here as an obstacle in the Circle, which brings me to my first question: Laufeia, do you know why you're here?"

"I, uh... Entered the Inner Circle because Lilith challenged me to do so."

"That's not what I mean." Draven says, shaking his head. "I mean, do you know what's supposed to happen here in the fourth circle?"

I shake my head, obviously not knowing what. Daemon didn't tell me anything about this level because not even him has ever been this far in the Circle—Hell, he's never even the Circle, to begin with.

"Do you notice any patterns at all from the previous Circles?"

"?" I ask, oblivious. I must look pretty stupid right now, but I'm being truthful when I say that I didn't notice anything at all and I'd rather be honest to the former Satans than to straight up lie to their faces.

"There were," Daemon's grandfather confirms, nodding. "They weren't just levels you've passed, those obstacles—the Hellhounds, Abaddon's locusts and blazing pathways—they were put there for a reason."

"Laufeia, when you had to kill all those Hellhouds and locusts in the first level, did you feel like anything in you was lost?" Draven asks, his tone serious.

I tilt my head a little to the side, now more puzzled than ever. "Not that I know of?"

"But there something. You might not have felt it wear off, but you did indeed lose something in you—your humanity."

"It's true," Daemon's grandfather adds. "While you killed all of those creatures, slowly but surely, your humanity began to fade for you were taking their away—a very inhuman thing to do."

I quietly nod, taking in everything they are telling me. I don't know how to react to all these new informations, so I decide that it's best to stay silent.

"As for the second circle?" I ask, my tone hushed.

"You let go of physical pain." Draven answers. "Did you notice how numb you started to feel towards the end of the level? How you no longer felt as much though at first you were overwhelmed with the extremity of the flames?"

I nod. "I was slowly getting used to it."

"Exactly. And now you're immune to pain, and your tolerance towards it just keeps getting higher and higher—watch." Draven flicks a wrist, and almost immediately I smell something burning. I look down to see my left arm ablaze, probably from his doing. "Tell me, Sweetheart, do you feel anything at all?"

"No, nothing." I shake my head as I stare at my burning arm in awe. Normally I'd be freak out, but this... This is just incredible.

"Would you like to take a guess on just what you let go of in the third circle?" Daemon's grandfather asked, looking intently at my face.

"Ah," I snap my fingers and the flames that were licking at my arm disappears. I think hard and try to make sense of all the obstacles in the third circle—and then it hit me: I've let go of all humane attachments.

"That's right, dear, you've let go of your humane attachments." He nods, and I keep in mind that all men of the Lucifer line have the ability to read minds. "Do you see just what's happening to you, Laufeia? The closer you are to the center—"

"The less there would be of my humane natures." I finish, finally able to connect the dots.

"Correct. So my question now is this: are you willing to proceed to the fifth circle?" Draven asks, looking me straight in the eye. "Now that you know the consequences and whatnot, you are able to make a decision with your consciousness crystal clear; will you let yourself transform into a full demon, or return back to earth right this minute?"

I begin to contemplate my options, mentally listing down the pros and cons of being a demon—but it doesn't take me long to reach my decision.

"I will proceed to the fifth level. I am willing to become a full demon for I am Satan's right hand."

Both Draven and his father seems thoroughly impressed. "Very well, then. That is your choice." Draven says, and yet another gate appears before us. I stride towards it, eager to get to the center of the circle, but as I reach the opening, Draven adds, "One more thing before I forget: once you become a demon, that would mean that you will be feeding off one source and one source only."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, Sir." I grin, and turn to continue walking in. "Not a problem at all."