Menace

Seraphina took a deep breath, quelling the turbulence of emotions that threatened to surface. Despite having lived over 700 years as a Demon Monarch, she wasn't a stranger to guilt. Her hands were stained with the blood of countless beings from wars waged against various races, innocent or not.

However, she had made a vow to never directly kill an innocent individual, a restraint to prevent herself from descending into the abyss of senseless slaughter.

With a sigh, she poured a glass of milk, her eyes revealing no ripples—true to her status as a Demon Queen.

What had happened had happened, and nothing would change that, so she should just forget about it.

Sopatra, witnessing her composed demeanor, let out a sigh of relief. He returned to his side, giving her space, knowing she would share if she wished.

Suddenly, Seraphina jolted up, munching on cookies, and walked to the living room with a hint of expectation. Intrigued, Sopatra followed her and found her engrossed in the switched-on television.

"Amazing, though it looks very similar to the Elysian act of recording plays on memory stones, it's fundamentally different." She remarked, deeply immersed in the magical sight.

Shrugging, Sopatra responded, "Well, they both serve the purpose of entertainment. It's late; I should show you to your room." He missed the solace of his bed and looked forward to resting until the next morning.

Not removing her gaze from the TV, Seraphina asked, "Hey, aren't you supposed to show me around this new world? What's with the lack of enthusiasm?"

"That'll have to wait till tomorrow. Goodnight Seraphina." Seeing that she was so engrossed in the TV, Sopatra informed her about the location of her room, opposite the bathroom she used, and headed to his own room.

"Can I have the cookies remaining in the fridge?" She called out.

And he was quick to reply. "Do not touch them."

Switching on the lights, his room revealed a simple setting in grey and black highlights. It contrasted with the warmth present in the rest of the house.

He'd had no qualms with his mother handling his room too, but she had insisted he did it himself, going along the lines of "your room is no different from your heart; it should reflect who you are and what you desire."

This was the result of everything, and following his mother's words, he felt the most secure in this place.

Lying on the bed, staring at the grey ceiling, a strange sense of relief enveloped him. He was truly back, with his mortal enemy, no less.

Sopatra's adaptability, honed from a life of constant relocation due to his father's job, allowed him in living a somewhat normal life in Elysia, but that never meant he didn't miss Earth.

The room had a distinct lack of scent, a result of his aversion to perfumes and aromatics. In no time, he succumbed to a deep, comforting sleep.

Six hours later, at approximately seven in the morning...

Sopatra woke up to the sound of burning and found his kitchen on fire. Even in retirement, the Demon Queen proved to be a menace.

---

Startled by the crackling flames and billowing smoke, Sopatra leaped out of bed. He rushed to the kitchen, only to find Seraphina standing there, seemingly unfazed by the fiery chaos.

"Seraphina, what happened here?" Sopatra exclaimed, his eyes widening as he scanned the blaze.

She turned to him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, you see, your world's technology isn't quite as foolproof as I anticipated. I wanted to make toast."

Despite her apparent composure, Sopatra sensed a subtle fluster beneath the mischief, but he chose not to call her out on it, knowing it would only make matters worse.

"Toast?" Sopatra echoed incredulously, gesturing to the flames consuming the toaster.

"Isn't that the standard Earth breakfast?"

Sopatra, torn between frustration and amusement, grabbed a fire extinguisher and swiftly put out the flames. The kitchen, now devoid of its fiery spectacle, smelled of burnt plastic and lingering embarrassment.

"I appreciate the effort, Seraphina, but perhaps you should start with the basics." he suggested, eyeing the charred remains of the toaster.

Seraphina had an awkward face at his words, gesturing to a plate with a lump of charcoal inside. "I tried that Sopatra, this is what I got."

Sopatra was confused. "What is that supposed to be?"

"An omelette"

"..."

She cleared her throat and shrugged, seemingly unburdened by the culinary mishap. "Oh, weren't we supposed to get clothes for me today?"

Now she's changing the subject.

As Sopatra assessed the damage, he couldn't help but wonder if living with the Demon Queen would be more challenging than he had anticipated.

***

Far away, but still in Opal City.

There was a building that stood just three blocks from the Opal City Police Department, it was relatively inconspicuous, bearing the name "Claren Consultants" in the forefront, something that could mean anything.

In reality, it was a cover-up for the Opal City Special Cases Department.

Three feet under the same building, there were seven doors lined up in a dark hallway, each numbered from one to seven in the Roman numerals, and beyond the door lettered IV was Marline Heckler—a.k.a Inspector IV—behind an office table.

It was dimly lit, and a normal person wouldn't be able to see beyond a few inches, and yet she seemed to be writing up a case report just fine.

In the background, a somewhat soft and timid voice could be heard coming from a recorder on the table.

"I-I'm telling you I didn't see it clearly, it was dark, and I was preoccupied with struggling, all I can say is that it was a woman."

"What else can you recall?"

"I don't think there's anything more."

"Think again, are you sure?"

"O-oh Wait! I think she was wearing armour."

"Hmm?"

"The man called her a cosplayer before she attacked, and there was a sound of metal clanging when he stabbed her with that..."

"Energy blade."

"... Yes, that."

Marline clicked the recorder off and sighed, looking at the file before her.

---

Case Report

Case Number: OCSCD-2020-J1704

Date of Occurrence: 17th October 2020

Time of Incident: Between 23:30 and 00:00

Location: On 27th Avenue, adjacent to Elm Street.

Investigators:

Marline Heckler (Inspector IV)

Harry Giordano (Inspector VII)

Incident: Homicide. Death by Decapitation.

Victim Information: Paul Lachlan, aged 43, recently unemployed, diagnosed with Cancer, Abnormal-Class Supernatural.

Incident Description: On the specified date and time, Inspectors IV and VII responded to reports of detected supernatural presence in the death of Paul Lachlan. During the investigation, a Precognitive Reenactment was initiated. During the reenactment, one of the involved individuals and the current suspect exhibited anomalous behaviour, appearing as a blurry figure, and seemingly gaining sentience, the involved Investigators presume the reenactment alerted and summoned the suspect's consciousness. Initial attempts to cancel the reenactment were futile, but the suspect remained passive before subsequently vanishing.

Eyewitness Information: Sarah Tindermann, aged 25, elementary school teacher, Non-supernatural.

Witness Testimony: The witness claims she was on her way home when she felt she was being followed, and was subsequently assaulted by the victim. She asserts being saved by someone she describes as a female wearing armor. She admits to fainting and not witnessing the aftermath. The witness's claims are considered credible, corresponding to on-scene evidence and the reenactment.

Analysis and Conclusion: Currently, the suspect's motives are unknown, and a case file has been opened for them; refer to Entity Report Number OCSCD-2020-J1701. Further inquiries are required to determine the nature and origin of the entity.

Case Status: Open - Pending Further Investigation

Additional Notes: Preliminary analysis indicates no energy signature associated with the blurry figure during the reenactment.

---

Marline closed the case file and leaned back, anticipating a brief respite when a soft knock on the door was followed by three assertive ones, with strategic pauses in between.

She frowned, clearly disturbed, but still sat up and said. "Come in."

Harry waltzed in and switched on the light, causing Marline to wince a bit.

He settled on the chair opposite, spinning on it just for the fun of it.

He was with a lollipop, in sunglasses, and still wore a work-inappropriate suit.

Observing the pronounced dark circles beneath her eyes, he couldn't help but feel a mix of helplessness and frustration. "Impressive dedication. Your shift ended like two hours ago, right?"

Marline sighed in response. "I'm guessing that cow overslept again."

Harry chuckled at her words. "Your leniency is why Patricia takes liberties."

Without further comment, Marline handed the incomplete file to Harry. Once he finished reviewing it, she inquired, "Any findings from cross-referencing the names with the Office Catalogue?"

Leaning back, Harry responded. "It's been established that Paul Lachlan has no ties whatsoever to the Underside."

"The eyewitness?"

"None found, but here's something interesting. She bears the same surname as a Gang leader from Kinney Isle."

Marline tapped the table. "Doesn't necessarily imply a connection, Harry."