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Chapter Text

Pain. That was all that they could feel. Why that was all that they could feel was beyond their ability to reason. In fact, it was keeping them from reasoning at all. It was excruciating, to say the least, having their whole body feel as if it was on fire starting at the end of each nerve in their body. As the pain seemed to pulsate. When it was between high levels, they tried to recall why they were even in pain. But yet, it seemed to elude them. 

Slowly, the pain began to fade away. Or were they getting used to it? It didn't honestly matter to them. What mattered was getting their eyes to open and figure out what the hell had happened. Then again, some niggling little voice in the back of their head told them that it wouldn't matter. But they had never listened to that little voice before, so why would they start now? 

"Hey, you think they are okay?" 

"Maybe? Should you try to heal them again?" 

"I can try, but they didn't need to be healed, to begin with... there was no damage done. Not even a status effect." 

"Then why do they look like they are in extreme pain? Or seriously constipated?" 

The sound of voices filtering through the darkness had them feeling disconnected. What were they talking about with healing damage or status effects? That was game lingo. And man, that one voice sounded super fucking cheery. So much the urge to punch the speaker was strong. 

"Oh, look, they moved! Hey, go get Lord Laharl!" 

That cheery voice once more spoke, and it had them twitching violently. Apparently, it was not just mentally, but physically? Then again, the fresh waves of pain rolling through their body were all the proof needed for that assessment. And who in the nine hells was Lord Laharl? That wasn't a name in any of the languages they knew about? And they specialized in religions, cultures, and languages that were both dead and current. 

TBC!

Chapter Text

  The sight of the short-haired, red-eyed demon named 'Lord' Laharl, his vassal Etna, who wore red, spiky pigtails and barely decent black leather clothes, was at odds with the bubble-blond fallen angel called Flonne.

It had been only four days since waking. Broken memory fragments surfaced, but they were not enough to be anything important. And all that could be recalled was their name, Sionet. Were they sure they'd been human or sure they were still human?

"See you, go swoosh, and then boom!"

She felt awe and horror at the sight of a large Ice cluster destroying the crates in the castle's main entrance.

"You idiot angel, it's clear this bimbo doesn't understand your explanation of magic," Lord Laharal snapped, openly insulting Flonne(again).

Sionet twitched a little and looked at Lord Laharl as Etna laughed hysterically.

"Big Brother! I came to visit!"

The cheery, young-sounding voice made Lord Laharl flinch and drew Sionet's eyes. There stood a tiny brunette girl with red eyes similar to Lord Laharl's. It was clear her clothes were similar to Flonnes, as were the tiny wings on her back. However, those wings were white, so Sionet figured she was a normal angel.

"Sicily, you're back from Celestia!" Flonne chirped happily.

"Yup, Flonne. I missed my brother!" The tiny angel Sicily said. "Oh, who is that?"

"Ah, that's Sionet, a new arrival. But while she is a demon, she doesn't look or act like it... She has n--" Flonne babbled on before trailing off.

Sionet sighed and flexed her shoulders, revealing a large pair of green feathered wings.

"Ahh!" Sicily screamed before sitting on the ground hard.

"Yo, Laharl, what's up with your sister's reaction?" Etna mumbled after suddenly stopping her laughing fit.

"I don't know. Shouldn't you ask her yourself, Etna?" Laharl hissed in annoyance.

Sionet couldn't help but roll her eyes, fold her wings, and hide them. She knew she wasn't an angel, but only angels had feathered wings between the 'Nether Worlds' and 'Celestia.'

"Master Lamington and King Krichevskoy seemed disturbed. They talked with all the council's Senior Angels and Elder Demons about balance..." Sicily said after collecting herself and standing up. "I overheard a death on earth recently that messed with that balance."

Soon, Sionet curled in on herself, and fear glazed her eyes. Everyone suddenly pinned her with their gazes.

"Nope," she muttered before turning and walking away as quickly as she could without making it look like she was running.

She wanted nothing to do with what Sicily said. She had no memory except for those broken fragments. She had been human. She had been a plain Jane nobody. She was sure—or at least she was sure she was sure.

TBC!