Let Him Cook

Asmo's heavy eyelids flickered open, groggily taking in the dimly lit interior of the van. The air was thick with the savory aroma of cooked food, making his stomach growl with hunger. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his gaze focusing on Belzebub, who stood before him, a steaming plate in hand.

Belzebub's expression was surprisingly soft, his eyes gleaming with a warmth Asmo hadn't seen in ages. He approached Asmo with a gentle stride, the plate extended in offering. Asmo's instincts flared, his mind racing with suspicion. Had Belzebub spiked the food, seeking revenge for his betrayal? Or was this a genuine gesture, a sign that his brother had truly changed?

Asmo's eyes widened as he continued processing the sight of Belzebub holding out a plate of food. His mind raced with suspicion - had Belzebub poisoned the food? Was this a trap? He couldn't shake off the feeling of unease, even as Belzebub's expression seemed soft and almost... kind.

"Nah, Devils never truly change who they are," Asmo thought to himself, "They just switch agendas."

Asmo's eyes locked onto the plate, his stomach growling with hunger. But he hesitated, unsure if he should trust Belzebub's sudden display of weird brotherly affection.

"What's this?" Asmo asked gruffly, trying to hide his skepticism.

Belzebub's smile was small, but genuine. "Breakfast. I figured we could both use some fuel for the road ahead."

The words were laced with a warmth that made Asmo's defenses waver. He hesitated, his gaze darting between the plate and Belzebub's face, searching for any sign of deceit. But Belzebub's eyes remained clear, his expression open.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Asmo reached out and took the plate, his eyes never leaving Belzebub's face. The food was a savory mix of flavors, the aroma wafting up to tease his nostrils. He took a tentative bite, the taste exploding on his tongue. It was good – really good.

Asmo's gaze flickered between the plate and Belzebub's face, searching for any sign of deceit. But Belzebub's eyes seemed clear, his expression open.

Asmo's gaze met Belzebub's, a small spark of surprise igniting within him. Maybe, just maybe, his brother had changed. Or maybe this was all just a clever ruse. Either way, Asmo was determined to keep his guard up, even as he devoured the food with a hunger he couldn't deny.

The van's interior was dimly lit, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and the clink of utensils against the plate. The air was heavy with tension, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Asmo's mind raced with questions, his heart pounding in his chest. What did Belzebub want from him? Was this a sick trap, or a genuine offer of truce?

Asmo finished his meal, his eyes still fixed on Belzebub with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. "So, Belzebub, what's with the sudden culinary skills? You're not exactly known for your cooking prowess, and I'm hardly your favorite brother."

Belzebub's expression turned introspective, his gaze drifting off into the past. "Last night, I remembered something," he said, his voice low and contemplative. "An oath we took, a long time ago. The Seven Archdemons, we swore to stand by each other, through thick and thin, through hell and eternal damnation."

Asmo's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the implications. "You're talking about the Archdemons' oath," he said, his voice laced with disbelief. "That was a lifetime ago, Belzebub. We were different back then."

Belzebub's gaze snapped back to the present, his eyes locking onto Asmo's. "I know we were," he said, his voice firm. "But that oath meant something to me, Asmo. It meant that we stood together, no matter what. And I remembered how we stood side by side, back then. We were brothers, in every sense of the word."

Asmo's expression softened, his eyes searching Belzebub's face for any sign of deception. But Belzebub's gaze remained steady, his eyes shining with a sincerity that was hard to deny.

"It's just us now, Asmo," Belzebub said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The others are gone, captured or worse. But I'm willing to give us another chance, if you are."

They were finally ready to get back on the road but the van began to experience engine problems.The van's engine roared to life on the third try, belching out a cloud of black smoke as Belzebub pushed it up the slight incline. Asmo grinned wryly, relieved that they were finally back on the road.

As they drove away, the landscape blurred into a haze of asphalt and scenery. Time rushed by, the miles devouring the distance between them and their pursuers.

But unbeknownst to the brothers, two figures appeared at the exact spot where the van had been parked. Archangel Gabriel and Uriel gazed down at the tracks left behind, their eyes scanning the ground with an practiced intensity.

"Okay, it was them alright," Gabriel said, his voice low and confident. "This might be easier than we thought."

Uriel's expression was skeptical. "Be careful, Gabriel. Remember that Belzebub is still capable of giving us trouble."

Gabriel's smile was reassuring. "Oh, I know. But, he's at his weakest, and Asmo is technically not the evil Devil he used to be. It might be easier to capture them."

Uriel's gaze narrowed, her eyes flashing with a hint of warning. "Capture who, Belzebub? If your persuasion fails, I will apply brute, justified force."

Gabriel's expression turned concerned. "Look, I know the stress Belzebub put you through, but remember that our original orders were to just catch them."

Uriel's voice was firm. "Oh, don't worry, I remember the original plan. But that Devil is using the body of Chris, and even you know that I won't tolerate burning Belzebub's spirit out of him if he refuses to do it voluntarily."

The air was heavy with tension as the two Archangels stood there, their eyes locked on the van's tracks, their minds fixed on the pursuit ahead.