A Parent's Anger

Wilhelm has his left arm on the counter, a towel underneath the cut-open forearm, showing the flesh and bones and muscles. A kitchen knife in his right hand as he carefully pokes at several nanite-clad muscles; his fingers twitch in response.

"Sir. I've found the remains of the children," Adam speaks as he enters through the backdoor, heads towards the counter where several pre-1898 revolves are displayed.

Yes. Children. No longer a child, but children as several heads poked out of the wall. All were staring at Wilhelm, as though judging him. Their spirits, they look just like normal human beings, normal... kids. The expressions, however, were nothing of sort. They were hollow, and hurt.

Wilhelm needed some air or he would destroy the room. The sight of all of them begging him to let them go into the afterlife, including that boy in the summoning circle, brought back some, let us just say, unpleasant memories.

"...Were you able to identify them?" Wilhelm asks, glancing at Adam at the corner of his eyes.

"Unfortunately, no, sir." The A.I shakes his head. "Police records, F.B.I, Interpol, the likes. I couldn't find them in any of those. Even S.H.I.E.L.D is no go either."

Wilhelm blinks. "Shield what now?"

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Or S.H.I.E.L.D in short. They're an American-based extra-governmental counter-terrorism and intelligence agency, primarily tasked with maintaining both national and global security," Adam elaborates. "They also appear to... have an interesting project created by their director, Nick Fury, called 'The Avengers Initiative.' Put it simply, they want to form a superhero-based response team that is capable of defending Earth from global threats which are beyond the warfighting capability of conventional military forces."

"Christ, Adam. I am not in the mood of an info-dump," Wilhelm deadpans. "Still, a superhero-based team? I would be surprised if their egos do not tear themselves apart; sounds like to me a recipe for disaster right there."

"It appears they also succeeded in 'resurrecting' a super soldier from WW2 named Steve Rogers, as in waking him up from his 66-year slumber, frozen in ice under a state of suspended animation."

"...Nice to know. But I have no use for that kind of knowledge yet."

"Well, I'd still inform you, since they've been looking for your whereabouts and everything they got on you for the last 12 hours."

"Who?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D," Adam replies. "Your appearance with the Hulk last night made one hella storm across the Internet. Predictably, every military force, government and shady organization now wants a piece of you, sir. That includes S.H.I.E.L.D. They dispatched an agent to the New York. She's looking for you as we're speaking."

Wilhelm hums, digesting the information. "Right. We will deal with them later," he instructs. "Now, however, we need to care of this case at hand first."

'We need to find that Archdemon if it is already summoned...'

Adam nods, before he directs his gaze to Wilhelm's arm and the state it is in.

"Are you recalibrating the nanomachines, sir?"

"Yes," Wilhelm grunts. "A pole through my heart was enough to put me down. Fighting those bloody cocksuckers really did a number on them."

Dark alloy surfaces and vanishes across Wilhelm's forearm, reacting accordingly to every poke which he makes. Soon, he turns his attention to the ulna and slowly peels off a chip attached to it. The chip is snapped in half, beyond repairable; Wilhelm crushes it into tiny bits with other hand.

"Adam. Backup chip, please."

The said A.I reaches his hand to his core, which elevates from the suit's chest before it pops out the chip stored within its frame. Adam hands the new chip to Wilhelm, prompting the latter to attach it to his ulna, just before the nanomachines cover and create a protective layer on it. Almost instantly, within Wilhelm's sight, a heads-up display materializes, signaling the connection is re-established.

"System rebooting. Zeus ver.11.9 System recovery. Processing..." Adam murmurs. The blue eyes on the helmet glows, darting left and right. "And the reboot is complete. Transferring live feedback and map. Calibrating to the most optimized settings. How's it looking, sir?"

"Well done."

Wilhelm minimizes the windows pop up in his sight. He puts the knife on the counter, as the forearm begins closing the cut, flesh and tissues reconnecting, soon looking as good as new. He clenches and unclenches his hand, nodding in satisfaction. Getting up from the stool, Wilhelm dons his watch and puts on the brown leather jacket—which still has that new-leather fragrance; he makes himself appear presentable as he tucks his shirt in the dark denim jeans. He slightly stirs his feet, checking the fitting of the new military boots; perfectly sized.

"What's your order, sir?"

"Make sure to thoroughly sweep the house." A photo of a woman in late 20s comes up in Wilhelm's sight, along a list of related info. "Anything related to our sicko here. We have nothing on her, other than her name, age, and aim. No relatives, nor known friends."

Wilhelm clicks his tongue. "Heck, no one knows where she is. She just left the house. This is basically a dead end on our side, Adam."

"May I suggest asking the spirits of the children, if possible? Perhaps they might shine a light on her whereabout?"

"I could do that. Although," Wilhelm trails off slightly, "I am not sure if I want to do that. There is a saying, do not disturb the dead, for a reason."

As Wilhelm stills mulling over the old-school method or the easy way, the latter might end up being a terrible idea, as Bones warned, suddenly a drawer of the counter opens, drawing the attentions of the only residents of the house. In it, a business card floats out. Wilhelm blinks, before long he finds a little girl standing before him with her arms extending the card to him. The face on the girl remains unreadable, though he can sense a faint hope within those eyes.

"...I'm not still used to this. Not at all," Adam mutters in defeat, eliciting a chuckle from Wilhelm.

"My thanks, lass." Wilhelm gratefully receives the card, before the man instinctively puts a hand atop the girl's head, stroking her hair.

The spirit girl simply nods and fades into nothing.

"Christ. I hope God opens his door to welcome them when this is all over."

'For the innocent souls, they shall, partner... They always shall...'

"That is assuring," Wilhelm says to himself, the corners of his mouth slightly curve up. His attention then turns to the business; on it is a name, a phone number and an address, with an image with devil wings and tail, colored red. "Hmm. Devil's Lair, huh? Sounds fitting."

"I've added the waypoint to the location. Please check your mini map," Adam notifies.

Wilhelm looks to the round map on the bottom left corner of his vision, nodding. "Just right at Lower Manhattan, near Castle Clinton. Well then, time to pay this place a visit."

'Wait, partner... I suggest we go after her around the time the sun starts setting...'

"Uh, is there a reason I must wait until then?"

'You are still new to this power... You could only transform at sunset, and end at the first of the sun... I have no doubt you will get things done... However, an Archdemon should not be underestimated under any circumstances... And we do not know if she has succeeded in summoning it...'

"All right. Your logic seems sound," Wilhelm agrees. "Though, I do wish to test myself too. See the differences between my Earth and this one. See if I can hold my own."

'A wise policy, albeit reckless... Very well, I shall watch your back... Be extra careful...'

"Sorry to interrupt you both," Adam speaks up, getting Wilhelm's attention, "but sir, won't you need a mean of transportation first? And weapons as well?"

=

Meanwhile, up high in the sky, among the countless clouds, an imposing flying machine comes into view. A helicarrier, a testament to how far technology has come, as it is an advanced flying command center that doubles as an aircraft carrier. It is designed to be capable of sustained and independently-powered flight thanks to four massive turbine engines. A real fortress in the air.

Within the command room, a black man dressed in long trench coat, Nick Fury in his full glory with an eyepatch on his heavily scarred left eye, is watching intently at a screen—which is being operated by a female agent named Maria Hill, who is cladding in a navy-blue bodysuit.

"Found anything on our friend yet?" Fury questions, tapping his foot while folding his arms, referring to the mysterious man who helped the Hulk, who is now dubbed as 'The Ghost.'

"I'm afraid not, sir." Hill sighs dejectedly, slumping her shoulders. "Even if we know he was the same man who was alleged killed by Abomination." She brings up a photo of a greyed-haired man pinned down to the ground with a light pole through his chest; his face is blurred.

"We got any photo that's whole?" Fury asks with a raised questioning brow.

Hill sighs once more. "We do have one, sir..."

"But?"

"We managed to get one, untouched." Hill brings up another photo. The same one before, however this particular one has the usual low-quality that is often seen from the CCTVs. "However, once we attempt to zoom in and increase the image's quality, this happens."

With several motions, the photo starts to appear clearer. Yet within mere moments before the process is finished, the photo glitches, twisting and crinkling itself. Then it turns blank, with a smiley face and 'no peeking.' Then, it deletes itself.

Fury only stares at the process from the start to the end, almost speechless.

"Every photo and footage that has him, they're all blurred, to the point our most powerful programs can't even do nothing about it. When he got online, some managed to download the photos and the footages with his face still intact. Yet, somehow, uh, the moment his face got blurred, the ones which got downloaded beforehand, the files turned corrupted or even deleted."

"...Well, that was interesting," Fury comments. "Our man really wants his face off the surface."

"What should we do, sir?"

"I already sent Agent Romanoff to New York to search for him."

"Wouldn't it be counter-productive, since we don't even know who we're looking for, sir? He might even move out of New York too, for all we know."

"Your observation is acute. But we can't afford to do anything when a wild-card is still at large," Fury says with a huff from his nose. "For now, we... may have to rely on Lady Fortune. Our priority right now is to determine whether he is a friend, or an enemy. Keep me updated if you find anything else related to the Ghost."

"Yes, sir."

"Ghost..." Fury tastes the name in his mouth. "It really suits you, motherfucker."

=

The sunlight of the mid-afternoon has already softened, as Wilhelm is nearing to his destination and pulling up to a parking space in front of the location. Many eateries and bars begin opening with the streets getting crowded, as many prepare for the Saturday weekend night; and 'The Devil's Lair' also happens to be one of them.

Bones is already trying to get out and take over Wilhelm, due to the absurd amount of foul demonic energy the former is sensing. Keeping the guy down is easier said than done. But he can manage—

'MUST RIP...! MUST TEAR...! MUST VANQUISH EVIL...! MUST GET OUT...!!!'

—eh, somewhat.

"You really need to learn to control yourself, Bones," Wilhelm deadpans, ignoring the uncontrollable urge to go apeshit and gun down everything that moves inside the building.

Turning off the engine, Wilhelm puts down the kickstand and gets up from his newly-bought Yamaha VMAX; a beautiful demon speed of a motorcycle that runs like a dream. He fixes his jacket and has another look at the handgun and the combat knife holstered on the belt, hidden by the jacket. With a breath, he pockets the bike's key and heads in the building.

The saloon doors open, and Wilhelm draws attention to himself briefly before other patrons go back to their conversations and drinks. While it is not as popular as other establishments, the place seems to be doing well enough with some empty tables.

The barkeeper raises her head above the rows of crystal-clear beer glasses, and seemingly measures Wilhelm with her gaze. Though, she does put on a smile as he approaches her and takes a seat right before her at the bar counter. He sighs and rolls his left shoulder.

"Long day?" she asks coolly, continues wiping a glass beer.

"You have no idea," Wilhelm moans. His voice is deep, but also pleasant to the ears.

The barkeeper merely nods; though she wets her lips. "So, what'll it be, handsome?"

"Beer. The best one you have, darling."

"Coming right up~."

With a wordless nod, Wilhelm let the barkeeper do her work and ignores the certain way she sways her hips as she grabs an empty glass and fills it up with beer from the dispenser placed on the counter top. At the same time, some patrons begin giving him looks.

His order arrives quickly, which comes with a dash smile from the barkeeper.

"Here you go, handsome," the barkeeper coos, as she reaches her hand to her shirt collar and starts unbutton the buttons, revealing a good portion of the cleavage of her well-stacked bosom. "Is there... anything else you need~? The next order is on the house~."

Wilhelm raises a brow, but proceeds to take the beer and gulps down everything in one inhale. The smile on the barkeeper widens into a seductive one, as her breath grows heavier.

"Actually, yes." Wilhelm wipes the white foam off his lips before looking to her with his eyes smiling. "I am looking for a woman named Elizabeth. Does the name ring any bell?"

As soon as he finishes, everybody in the bar grows silent; only the mellow jazz in the background is still playing, along the distant voices and footsteps of pedestrians walking past the establishment. The barkeeper briefly widens her eyes, which she quickly composes herself.

"S-Sorry, handsome. Can't say I heard that name before—"

"It is related to her children, darling."

The barkeeper flinches under the sudden change in Wilhelm's eyes. No longer smiling, they narrow dangerously; the steel-blue eyes boring into hers with a threatening glint, choking her.

Thankfully, somebody grabs Wilhelm's shoulder, prompts him to break the gaze, and let her finally take a step back and breath in relief.

"I'm sorry, friend, but you're bothering our staff," a tall man roughly says, as Wilhelm lightly tilts his head over his shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm gonna ask you to leave immediately."

"You sure? I mean, I have not paid yet."

"This one's on the house."

The jazz slowly comes to an end, before a more upbeat one replaces the previous.

"My apologizes, but I do not think I will."

Suddenly gripping the tall man's hand, Wilhelm slams it onto the counter with a force which breaks his wrist and the wooden surface of the counter. In a swift motion, he unsheathes the knife, its blade hisses in its holster and glistens in the light, and plunges it through the man's hand, eliciting a roaring scream of pain; a pair of horns grow on the man's forehead and his fangs sharpen.

Simultaneously, the shutter door rolls down and blocks the main door to the building. Which elicits several female screams.

Wilhelm sends a jab to the tall man's face, now turns out to be a demon, sending him stagger back, with the knife still stabbed into his hand rips it into two pieces. The said demon screams, before the military boot finds his face and crushes his entire front skull. A demon tries to jump at him, to which he misses and has a glass slammed into his face, shards piercing his skin, knocking him out.

Another pulls out his knife and slashes Wilhelm. He simply dodges, then catches the hand holding the knife. Curling fingers into fist, he delivers a straight to the elbow, which bends it unnaturally. The demon could only screech and drop his knife, before a headbutt knocks him out cold. One appears to make a getaway, prompts Wilhelm to kick the knife up to his hand and fling it at the spine of the demon. The blade goes in deeply, seeking the bones, causing the demon to fall and cry painfully as he tries to reach the knife, wriggling helplessly on the floor.

Wilhelm grabs a nearby chair, slowly walking to the demon, and smashes it into his head, breaking the thing. The demon limps in his spot; blood pouring out of his back.

Heaving a sigh, Wilhelm turns to the rest of the patrons, succubuses who are now in their realm form with horns and wings and tails, hurdling and hugging each other in fear, whimpering as their fearful gazes meet Wilhelm's glowing eyes.

The barkeeper, who has been watching Wilhelm taking care of the grunts with deadly and merciless efficiency—and the humans call them monsters!—snaps out of her stupor and quickly reaches towards the double barrel shotgun hidden under the counter.

Which she screams as soon as Wilhelm pulls out his handgun and fires a warning shot on the counter. The Beretta 92, coming equipped with a match-weight compensator attached to the nuzzle, stays nice and firmly in his grip.

"Do something stupid, and I assure you the next shot will be aimed at your hand."

The barkeeper gulps and nods rapidly. It was not simply a threat; it was a promise.

"Good lass."

Wilhelm makes his way to the back of the bar counter. The barkeeper steps back with every forward stride he makes, her succubus form starts to slowly reveal.

"Now, this is a simple question." Wilhelm smiles. "Where is Elizabeth?"

Gulping, the barkeeper grins, as her eyes begins to glow pink. "You would not hurt a babe with this ravishing body, would you~? Why don't we f-forget this and have some fun—"

The smile on Wilhelm disappears. He grasps a horn on her head and bashes her head onto the bar counter. The other succubus yelps, shrinking further and further as they watch in horror as Wilhelm plucks out his knife and slams the blood blade through the barkeeper's shoulder.

The barkeeper let out a terror-struck cry, making the succubuses weep in tears, frozen in fear.

"Do I look like I am acting like a gentleman to you?" Wilhelm asks slowly, as his voice slowly takes a sinister edge. "Now we can do this the easy way, or the painful way. I will be asking again. WHERE. IS. ELIZABETH?"

"G-Go to hell, you sonuvabitch..."

"The painful way it is, then."

As Wilhelm continues to pin the barkeeper down with one hand, his other hand, the forearm begins to be covered with a layer of nanomachines. The nanite-clad hand slowly descends onto her face. A dread feeling washes over the barkeeper, as the hand gradually shadows over her.

"Wh-What're you doing, you fucking bastard?!" she growls, baring her fangs.

"Well, my dear." Wilhelm tilts his head with a simple smile. "Forced information extraction."

His nanite-clad hand presses against her face, and she screams at the top of her lungs. The barkeeper thrashes around violently, trying to escape his grip but to no avail. Wilhelm grits his teeth and tightens the grip on her, his eyes flashing images, memories, voices, and children screams.

What happens within the next few seconds feel like hours, with one succubus exclaims she wants to go back to Hell and promises to be a good succubus as they witness their friend being mind-fucked, quite literally. Soon, the scream stops and the barkeeper's legs give in. She slumps down as Wilhelm retracts his nanite-clad hand, her now-empty eyes stare at nothing, quiet.

Meanwhile, Wilhelm clutches his head, and processes the information, grunting uncomfortable. His head feels like a sledgehammer is pounding it repeatedly. His nose starts to bleed, dropping several drops of blood to the ground; the blood drops all sizzling, acting similar to acid.

'Are you all right, partner...?'

"Yeah. Yeah, I am fine," Wilhelm mutters, sniffing with squinted eyes. "Just... my head is digesting... the succubus' memories. Fucking hell, Hell looks like crap. And Lucifer looks cliché as fuck. Horned demons, and sexy female demons with bodies that beg to be bred like whores. This Hell is a bloody stereotype of its own, if I am to admit."

'You... okay there...?'

"Sorry. This one spiked my beer with aphrodisiac." Wilhelm breathes. "It is also doing something to my thoughts. Which I should get them back in control... now. Christ, was that... what the succubuses use to tempt their victims? That shit was strong. Give it to a man and he might be able to repopulate an entire town if needed."

"Actually, our usual aphrodisiac is a lot stronger than what you drank. Humans that come in contact with it are usually dead due to having sex too much..." The succubuses stare blankly at the succubus who explained to Wilhelm. "What?! As if you girls could call that aphrodisiac!"

Wilhelm deadpans. "Brilliant. Another piece of knowledge I definitely did not ask for."

"So... uh," another succubus in the group speaks up, as though their fears all disperse, as she blushes and bites her lips sensually, "wanna have a fivesome and breed us all into submission, now that you already have what you came for...?"

For God's sake, did those succubuses just get turned on from fear!? Where did earlier those screams go?!

"Not now."

"W-Well, you know where to find us when you need 'that' taken care of..."

Ignoring the succubus and their gazes to his crotch, Wilhelm looks around the bar counter and spots a small button underneath. Pushing it, the floor slightly vibrates. On his side, the wall starts growling and moving, revealing a spiral stone staircase passage of sort that leads down.

"All right. Into the lion's den we go, Bones," Wilhelm grumbles, pulling his knife out of the succubus' shoulder and letting her slide and lay on the floor, before cleaning and sheathing the blade.

'Proceed with caution... I sense a powerful presence down there...'

=

Some time later, which feels like hours have already passed, after passing what appears to be a... sex cave, where men and women indulge in each other body without a care for a world—it seems to be the reason why there is so much demonic energy in the first place—Wilhelm finds himself in front of an imposing iron double-door. Each door is carved with demonic language, according to Bones, and the face of Lucifer right in the middle.

Wilhelm cannot help but look at it with half-lidded eyes, deadpanned.

'Not the first time seeing this...?'

"You have no bloody idea." Wilhelm sighs. "Let us get this over with."

Nanites cover his arms, as he begins pushing the iron doors open. The doors creak harshly, grating against the cold concrete ground and emitting unpleasant squeaks. A foul scent quickly overwhelms his senses from the seemingly endless darkness which is all over this enormous room. Suddenly, the candles light up, illuminating the room and its gothic architecture.

In the middle of the room, a summon circle that looks similar too the one he saw back at the house, only this one is much larger. In the middle of the circle, a child girl is laying motionless. No heartbeat nor pulses can be heard; she is already gone. And that unmistakable fiery red hair.

"...What are you going to do to your own child, Elizabeth?"

A silky-smooth hand caresses his cheek. It is cold and lifeless. Then a giggle that echoes throughout the entire room, as the said hand vanishes into thin air.

"Giving her what she truly deserves, Mr. Herrmann," the honeyed feminine voice answers, giggling as a pair of blood-red eyes appear within the shadow at the back of the room.

"Which is?"

"A happy life which should have been hers!" the voice seethes, filled with anger. The room rumbles, apparently agrees with her. "They took it away from her, took her away from me! She was all I have left in this godforsaken shithole country! And she was only eight, Mr. Herrmann! Eight!"

The flames on the candle burn more intensely.

"That bastard sold my child to them, you know..." she continues, however it sounds hollow this time, as though traumatized for the rest of her life. "She was so sick. She coughed and cried all the time... They said she got a rare disease, and I had no money to pay... Then the person whom I thought was the love of my life, the person whom I thought cared about my daughter, told me he got a solution, claimed he knew someone who could heal her. I was overjoyed, you know..."

"..."

"Two months later, I... never saw my daughter again." The woman behind the voice steps out of the shadow, revealing herself. "As you can see, this corpse is all that's left of Calida. And the worst thing about it, when I found her again, she died with her eyes open and her face screaming..."

This woman—no, she is no longer a human. She has fully transformed herself into a demon. Horned forehead with bat wings on her back. Her skin turned into a slight shade of red, matching the colour of her eyes. The tail also comes with the voluptuous body that is usually seen from a female demon, cladding in virtually nothing.

And she is crying. Tears streaming down her cheeks with no sign of stopping.

"How about that boy? Was he not your child either—"

"That thing was never my son!" Elizabeth cuts off, flaring her tattered bat wings, baring her fangs as she glares at Wilhelm. "He pinned me down on his fucking bed and put that disgusting thing in me when I demanded to know what happened to my pride and joy, then threw me out like some whore to the street! You think I could have an abortion when I didn't even have any money for my sweet, precious Calida?! No! I had to carry and give birth to it, like any normal woman!"

"...Right," Wilhelm deadpans. "Frankly, I do not give a damn about your sad backstory, or shits like that. I have met people who suffered worse than you. However... I do care about the fact you killed 8 children in total, including your own son, Elizabeth."

"I told you that thing was never my son!!!"

'Here she comes, partner... Get ready...!'

Screaming like a banshee, with nothing but pure fury, Elizabeth's feet create a crack on the floor, as she propels herself towards Wilhelm like a rocket. Barely avoiding her, he rolls to the side and swiftly brings his arms up, blocking her lengthened claws. Though, he soon goes flying from the unexpected strength. His back crashes into the wall, creating a large crater on the surface.

With no intention in letting Wilhelm recover, Elizabeth follows up her previous attack and launches at him again, claws aiming at his chest. However, within a moment, her claws find themselves deep into the wall, with no sight of Wilhelm nearby.

Before long, she feels a pair of arms gripping her belly tightly from behind. She could only gasp, as Wilhelm suplexes her with his muscles-hardened arm, smashing her head into the tough ground. He gets to his feet, nanites start cladding his leg as he kicks Wilhelm at her abdomen, sends her soaring and crashing against the floor. Darkened blood drips off the corner of her mouth.

"You are strong, fast," Wilhelm comments, rolling his neck. "But you painfully have, well, no fighting experiences. All that power you possess is wasted."

"Doesn't matter." Elizabeth spits her blood out and wipes it off her mouth, smirking. "When I sensed you going into my old room, I already knew you were going to come here, sooner or later. All those preparations are complete. There's only one step left: you, the vessel of The Spirit of Vengeance!"

Wilhelm briefly widens his eyes as Elizabeth disappears right before his eyes. His instincts scream as he dives down, with a familiar set of claws just barely missing his head. He rolls and gets up, dodging a swipe, then another. Evening his breath, he catches one of her wrists. His other hand forms into a fist and thrusts at her liver; the blow causes the demoness to spit her saliva, wheezing painfully.

Twisting her arm, Wilhelm gets behind Elizabeth with the same arm being pressed against her back. His other arm simultaneously encloses her neck with his rock-hard bicep. Slowly choking her, as she promptly attempts to pry his arm off her throat.

"You will pay," Wilhelm hisses. "Those 8 innocent lives that you took, you will pay dearly."

Which Elizabeth cackles manically. "I-I took them in... Gave them a home. It's only natural that they gave their lives to me! Even God's Vengeance won't stop me from resurrecting my Calida!"

Without warning, Elizabeth stabs herself. Her claws piercing through her, reaching their ways all the way to her back where they manage to impale Wilhelm in his stomach. Despite that, Wilhelm quickly let her go and jumps back. The claws do not go far, but they manage to draw his blood. The wounds soon close themselves, with only the blood-stained holes remain on his shirt.

"You injured yourself... for a mere drop of my blood."

Elizabeth's laughter turns louder, with the demoness pulls her claw out. "Oh, Mr. Herrmann. Because a drop of your blood is more than enough to complete the ritual."

Before Wilhelm could understand what her words meant, from the tip of her claw his drop of blood fall to the ground, sizzling audibly like eggs meet hot oil. Then, the summoning circle glows, as if it is arousing from its long slumber, illuminating the whole room with its sinister red light. Then, winds start growing, causing Wilhelm to shield his eyes and preventing him from moving, whilst Elizabeth extends her arms.

"The condition is fulfilled, my beautiful lord~! Give my Calida her life back, as you've promised!"

As though acknowledging the deal, the corpse of young Calida elevates into the air. A darkened red cloud materializes in the middle of the circle, and rushes into the girl's body. A red light soon blinds the room, as Wilhelm squints his eyes.

'This is not looking good...! Come, let me take over you for a moment, partner...!'

"Go ahead! My body is all yours, Bones—"

There is a hiss—sounding like the air is sliced. Before Wilhelm realizes what is going on, his left arm is cut cleanly off his shoulder. Wilhelm glances at the stump, then slowly moves his eyes to the middle of the circle, where a glowing red eye shines brightly in the cloud, along with a silhouette of a teenage girl holding a blazing sword horizontally.

Then, Wilhelm's whole world turns upside-down. It takes a moment, before he ultimately notices his headless body is still standing on the ground while he, or rather his head is in the air.

"...Fuck."

=