Chapter 493: Sloth’s Serendipitous Search

’Surely We created you, then shaped you, then said to the angels, "Prostrate before Adam," so they all did—but not Iblîs, who refused to prostrate with the others.

Allah asked, "What prevented you from prostrating when I commanded you?" He replied, "I am better than he is: You created me from fire and him from clay."

Allah said, "Then get down from Paradise! It is not for you to be arrogant here. So get out! You are truly one of the disgraced."

He appealed, "Then delay my end until the Day of their resurrection."’ -Al-A’raf 7:11-15

{Mount. Decima}

[Military Residential District]

Underneath the dome-like structure of the protective housing mountain, the projection of stars and the moon on the ceiling recreate the feeling of normalcy for the remaining Erinyes citizens within.

Maniae: "Hyaaaaaa!"

In the flood light lit backyard a missed spin kick thrown by a combat training young man splits the wind.

From a crouching position after dodging his attack, Silpheed shoots back up and grabs the back of the amateur fighter’s T-shirt. Then, pulling him backwards and hip throws the smaller contender to the ground.

Maniae rolls with the toss momentum, getting back to his feet, but with an unbalanced sliding stop.

Both of the boy’s blood-red eyes dart forward, but surprisingly, his ’big sister’ is no longer in front of him.

Unnoticed by the boy with his head on a swivel, Silpheed leans into his ear from behind.

Silpheed: "Wahhch- orr- bkk."

Being clearly more experienced in hand to hand fights, Silpheed easily stops Maniae’s attempted over the shoulder back fist, grabbing his wrist.

Using Maniae’s own bodyweight against him, the eye-patched mentor pins down their opponent on the artificial grass.

After wincing in slight pain, Maniae opens one red eye and a sparkling matching ocular organ is looking down on him. An obvious smile is behind his proud teacher’s lower face covering.

Silpheed: "Ouu- ohmzzt- gah- mii- drr-.

Ouu’rr- ghhddnn- bddrr-, Mehnniiehh-."

Maniae: "How the Hell did you move that quick to get behind me?!"

Using impressive upper body strength, the ’elder sister’ uses the wrist grip to stand the little brother back upright.

Pointing at the corner of their own uncovered left red eye, Silpheed donates knowledge to the outclassed student.

Silpheed: "Ai- mooffd- awt- ouurr- brriiffrriiuh-"

Maniae: "...’my peripheral’?

Holding the same finger a few inches away from his ear, Silpheed continues explaining.

Silpheed: "Weh- azz- oomhhnzz- knn- oonyy- zee- zoh- mujj-.

Zuhmmdimmz-, derrz- mhrr- abbinninn- errouunnd- ozz- dahh- wehh- donn- zee-, nnd- niid- do- bee- briibrrd- vorr-"

Maniae: "But how can I prepare for something if I don’t have the opportunity to see it, or know it’s coming?

I don’t have one of those magical alien eyes like you or Mr. Nephilim."

Reaching out to tussling his dark black hair, a soft chuckle escapes Silpheed’s thin face covering.

Silpheed: "Izzn’d- daahd- wahh- wrr- drraiinnin- ouu- vorr-?"

Being able to decipher her muffled words the encouraged young man nods and gets into a fighting stance.

Maniae: "Please, Big Sis, just one more attempt for the night!

If I really did get close to hitting you, I want to try something else this time!"

Without any body language translating as discouragement towards his request, Silpheed nods in return and squares up, raising their fists. The mentor fans their fingers out and in, inviting the aspiring challenger with a slight taunt.

Accepting the invite, Maniae lunges forward, closing the short gap between them.

Inside of the General’s home, standing in the L-shaped hallway, Arai watches from a closed second floor window. The blonde haired, stares in disgust as his old sparring pal is now preoccupied, bonding with one of their ’captors’.

Arai(thinking): *It’s not like Cyclops will teach you anything useful, you dumb asshole.

All these other asshats are only making you feel special to lull you into a false sense of security.

Just you wait.*

Interrupting his thoughts, bare footsteps are heard coming up the wooden, waxed stairway, and the ungrateful child turns to see a nervous Eden.

The stuttering treasurer of Erinyes territory has taken a shower and she is in her two piece, arithmetic themed pajamas, standing at the top of the stairs.

The two silently stare down the hall, acknowledging each others presence.

Arai’s blue eyed askance sends shivers down the timid girl’s spine, making her avoid any more eye contact.

Eden: "Uh-Um, th-the sh-shower dow-down s-s-stairs is o-o-open. If-If you want..."

Arai turns his head to look at the door to the General’s Quarters at the other end of the hall.

Knowing how unpredictable her new housemate can be, Eden tries to calmly talk to the blonde hoodlum as she shuffles cautiously to her room’s door closest to the stairway.

Eden: "Af-After dinner, M-Mr. N-N-Nephilim said he wa-was going to-to read the latest uh- update to Per-Perse- sephone’s story and get-get some rest before tom-t-t-tomorrow’s fight."

Not answering her or even acting as if acknowledging the harmless, innocent young woman, slowly shuffling Arai proceeds down the hall towards the stairs.

Unsure of his intentions, shaking, scared Eden scurries into her own room, slamming the door behind her.

With a raised eyebrow, the skeptical teen stops in front of the golden name plated door to his and Maniae’s shared room.

Arai(under breath): "Freakin’ weirdo..."

He enters his own dark, messy, bedroom.

Flicking on the overhead light to illuminate his living space, he looks at both his and Maniae’s empty beds.

As he closes the door behind him, Arai takes a decompressing breath, walks over to the television, and turns on the gaming system that is plugged into it.

He plops down a few feet away, cross legged on the floor he slightly cranks his head up as Nu-metal music plays from the TV speakers.

After navigating through the main menu the music fades out and the simulated ruckus of 30,000+ roaring fans replaces it.

Game Announcer: "Hello, and welcome to another beautiful Sunday afternoon football matchup!

Today we have the two conference leaders going head to head, both with 10-0 records, but barring a tie, one of them will receive their first lose of the season."

Arai: "If he’s going to spend his time with the enemy instead, I’m not gunna wait for him to continue our Head-to-Head season."

Unbeknownst to the gamer, a large dark figure that wasn’t there when the boy walked in, is now sitting on the edge to one of the beds.

The large figure is wearing a black cloak covered in purple Wisteria tree patches, hood up.

Quietly, the DæMon of Sloth watches in silence as the young gamer talk to himself while enjoying his hobby.

Arai: "I should’ve known he would be just like those foster home losers.

Why does everyone turn on me?

I’m not wrong.

I refuse to join that clueless, idiotic, hiveminded majority."

The *click* *click* of two thumb sticks hitting their plastic boundaries.

Locked into the simulation of american football, his fingers fly across the game controller, pressing button inputs.

Arai’s face unconsciously contorts and he bites his lip due to the intensity from the virtual world on screen.

Game Announcer: "He’s at the 30...the 20...10...5...Touchdown!

Wow, what an amazing opening kick-return by the rookie!"

Taking a deep breath of relief, the skilled player half smiles at the pre-recorded praise to his own success.

Game Announcer: "And their already going for a two point conversion try!

If they can go up by 8 early, these guys are here today for one thing, and that’s to make a statement to the rest of the league!"

A drip of blood hits the hardwood floor.

Feeling as if someone is watching him, Arai turns around and the Wisteria tree cloaked silhouette has disappeared.

After reassuring that nobody else in the room with him, the self-venting teenager continues talking out loud.

Arai: "Even if I didn’t belong anywhere else, I definitely don’t want to stay here in this ’house of herbs’."

Once again the uninvited DæMon has reappeared, but on the bed at the opposite side of the bedroom. This time a single bright left blue eye shines from the darkness inside their hood.

Arai’s thumbs press face buttons, his pointer fingers press the back trigger buttons, and finally flicks the sticks with a *click* *click* *click*.

He softly fist pumps to himself in celebration.

Game Announcer: "And they successfully convert for 2 points!

We have an unexpected 8-0 start here in today’s competition!"

After playing for almost 15 minutes, Arai leans back, using his arm as a brace and looks at the screen in satisfaction.

Game Announcer: "Well if there were any fans who believed these two teams were at equal levels, those people have been proven wrong.

Today’s final...the Norsemen 51, and the Goliaths 20."

There is a knock on the bedroom door and Arai turns to watch a bruised, but smiling Maniae enter.

As the only two in the room, there is a quiet awkwardness between the two friends.

Noticing the video game the blue-eyed roommate is playing, Maniae becomes disappointed after realizing his teams perfect record was ruined.

Maniae: "Did you advance in our Head-to-Head season without me?

Bro, I thought we agreed to not play the CPU when our teams had each other on the schedule."

Arai shows the back of his head to Maniae, and answers without any regret in his inimical voice.

Arai: "Yea, well you were busy outside, play fighting with Cyclops.

So you snooze ya lose."

Keeping his cool over the childish dispute, Maniae’s nose twitches and he rushes over to fish through his dresser for sleeping clothes.

Not exchanging anymore words to one another, the dirty, sweaty young man grabs a pair of shorts, a shirt, boxers, and socks.

Looking at the floor, Maniae notices a few drops of blood next to his bed. He turns to say something to his ’friend’ but instead, the sour young man leaves without any form of concern for Arai.

After making his way out of the room, there is a minor slam to the door, leaving Arai in the room with the reappearing, and still unacknowledged visitor now leaning against the section of the wall that was behind the open, now closed door.

Arai: "Yea, I figured as much.

Just proves how much you don’t actually care."

No longer invested in the game, he gets up and turns the console off.

This time however, when he turns back around, he finally notices the mysterious figure leaning against the wall.

Unprepared for his surprise, the startled boy takes a step back, accidentally stepping on the controller, and falls backwards on his ass.

Before he can shout in terror or scream in pain, an arm inside the Wisteria tree cloak raises and an open hand covered in indigo SoulSeiõr closes into a fist.

The same color of universal energy covers frightened Arai’s mouth, making him unable to audibly make noise.

From the hood shadow, a single blue-grey eye shines and examines Arai as he unsuccessfully tries to pull the SilencingSeiõrSpell off his face.

Abaddon DæMon: "Pure Viking blooded child, please don’t make any noise that may raise alarm to the rest of this residence.

I promise to you, we are one in the same."

After the initial surprise, the blonde boy calms down and glares daggers with his own blue eyes into the hood of his ’attacker’.

Abaddon DæMon: "I appreciate your cooperation.

Now then..."

Two hands reach up and remove the hood, revealing the DæMon of Sloth’s identity to Arai.

A dirty blonde fohawk, and shaved sides to the unnaturally born woman’s head.

Attached to both ears are rice paper painted earrings that sway and brush against the pale cheeks to her under bite jaw.

The pressed parchment piercing her right ear has the painted image of a red wild boar, and on the paper jewelry in her left ear is a carefully blotted image of a blue donkey.

A horizontal slash keeps the right eye to the 6th Wave Winner closed. With only her bright, sad looking, grey/blue left eye available for vision.

Abaddon DæMon: "Believe it or not, the universe has a way of setting up serendipitous meetings like this one for a reason.

After hearing your out loud frustrations, it seems like you and I may have more similarities than just our Scandinavian ancestry."