[center][IMG]http://i65.tinypic.com/2qx3r09.jpg[/IMG][/center] [center][h3]Day One[/h3] [I]Hours before dawn[/i][/center] Andri took a long drag of his cigarette and let the smoke linger in his mouth, probe the cracks between his teeth and seep into his tongue. It almost made him cringe in revulsion. He held it in for as long as he could, then swallowed, making it even worse. He hated smoking. But too often recently it was the only thing he hated more than himself. Even now, he could feel the demon at the pit of his stomach, running its nails up and down the barrier of his consciousness, testing it. It remembered the days when the night made demons stronger. Somewhere someone revved the engine of their bike and it let out a sharp, hoarse roar. It fed on the darkness and grew closer, weaving its way through the city’s streets until it passed him by and vanished once again, poured into the endless sound of traffic. Another bike awakened, perhaps a friend, or maybe a foe, and followed suit. Loom’s nocturne. Always dangerously mysterious. From the twentieth floor of his balcony, Andri couldn’t spot any trouble but he had no doubt that it was omnipresent in the capital, always quietly lurking beneath the streetlights. Like a worm waiting for the rain to surface, like his own infant curse… One could only envy the angels’ ability to dive at will with no repercussions. They had been the sentinels of the city long ago. Now it was up to the likes of him to keep the sleepers safe… and he wasn’t sure what he’d even do if he faced one himself right now. Things were not looking good. His future was fractured. His own soul was cracking, making a confusing kaleidoscope of what used to be a clear picture. A dozen questions plagued him with a dozen versions of his own face, the shiny cracks becoming paths, shrouded in darkness and uncertainty. He was looking at his future through a fractured glass that was his own soul. His consciousness was unstable. The bite only happened four days ago and today was the second day when he’d awoken to blood on his hands and chest. Animals, sure... But it was disturbing that he could taste the difference. It was disturbing that he could smell the exhaust of the bikes fifty meters up above the street. It was disturbing that when they’d gone to the hospital, the nurse looked at them with a questionable amount of sympathy and said something along the lines of “It’s all part of the natural cycle, you have to find a way to adapt” and assigned them a therapist instead of a doctor. One for both of them, too. He’d smashed a window on the way out, which turned out to be his most expensive outburst so far. Andri let out a puff of smoke and rested his head on his arms. To be quite frank, he was feeling a bit lost. Becoming a Wielder was a spontaneous decision… but getting possessed wasn’t part of the plan. Now he was forced to stay in a hotel because he knew that his condition wouldn’t go unnoticed in the Academy. All it would take was someone with a transparent instrument, or a mental link with his shard, or even just someone with very finely attuned essence senses. He didn’t know how they would react to having a demon walk amongst them. Maybe one of Kanna’s missed calls held the answer. A non-human Wielder was a contradiction… yet he had the nagging feeling that this title was the only thing keeping him sane right now. What would he be without that job? How would Mary-Anne afford her medications? Andri lifted his head, forcing the grim thoughts back, and let the cigarette drop from his hand, swirling violently as it headed for the ground far below. The ashes left a flaming trail that died before anyone even noticed it. A defiant smirk found his lips at the symbolism. He'd remembered something, a lyric from one of the Academy's many hymns. In the end they were “all just a crack in this castle of glass”. When he'd first heard it, he wasn’t sure why [url=https://youtube.com/watch?v=RRGSHvlu9Ss] such a song[/URL] had become one of Hazumi’s favourites. Now he thought he was beginning to get it. [hr] Loom was a peculiar city. It was the city of angels, but also the city of demons, and the city of humans, and the city of chimeras. It was where the best and the worst things always happened, a place where dreams died and were reborn. Loom’s darkness was endless and so was its light. In the end Loom was simply a blank canvas, covered in colours. It was no coincidence that Master Melody's Academy for Fine Arts was placed here. If one could learn to tell good and evil apart here, they could make it anywhere. Tokarin wasn't very good at that just yet. Of course, her body was very hard to damage but her heart wasn't. And the next words that would come out of this newspaper agent’s mouth would send a tinge of guilt down the young angel’s spine. “You got a picture of ‘Infamous Joe’?” His eyes were fixed on the picture, wide. He didn't see that she'd twitched the moment he touched the innocent piece of paper and was already trying to calm down. “I never knew he was infamous. What did he do?” Her voice came out steady but that was only because she tried so hard. “He’s raped five women already. The last one - yesterday.” [I]Oh Gods..[/I] “[i]How did you get this[/I]? It must have been literally hours before-- ” Now he must have finally realised how pale her skin was and how hard her lip was quivering. She didn't apologize before running out of his office because she didn't want to throw up on his desk. Sick mixed with tears in the bathroom sink. “Good job!” He shouted her way a few long minutes later and at that moment she thought he was a worst monster than Joe Wheeler. Furious with herself and the world, Toki left the building through the twelfth story window. She was never coming to this agency again.