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"[color=DarkOliveGreen]Are you sure we need him?[/color]"

"[color=rosybrown]Shut it, Rory.[/color]"

"[color=DarkOliveGreen]I just think we can do a bit better, that's all. And I'm pretty sure the Discovery Channel said that crickets aren't even a thing in the UK.[/color]"

Their whispering was interrupted by the clanking of plates, as the creature in front of them began to tear into his food. It dripped manically from his pincered mouth like larvae as he did so. He hunched over the table as he ate, perching on his back spiny legs. His chitinous exoskeleton sloped across his body up to his head, where a large pair of insectoid eyes jutted around the room madly. His wings lay sleekly across his back, motionless bar the occasional flutter. He ate ravinishely as if feasting on his prey, drawing eyes from all around the room, who watched in a mixture of horror and confusion. 

Illyana and Rory didn’t know what to expect when they initially asked if the insect wanted to meet, however, it certainly wasn’t going for a meal in his local pub. A swift stepping disc teleportation had transported the two to the English city of Canterbury in next to no time, and the creature’s distinct appearance had allowed them to find him almost immediately. The three sat across from one another at a small table in the centre of a large English pub. Cheap and uncheerful, the place was full of vomitous carpets, unmatching wood paneling, fruit machines, and all the shoddy artwork a cheap beer devotee could desire. It was certainly not the usual place to meet potential recruits in the war against Limbo. 

“[color=yellowgreen]Actually…[/color]” The Canterbury Cricket managed, taking a breather from the mess of food on his plate. “[color=yellowgreen]The cricket that forms my body came from the local university.[/color]”

“[color=yellowgreen]She lived a life of hardship and suffering before the Lord brought her to me.[/color]”

Rory shuddered slightly as he watched the insect speak, a look of visible disgust across his face, which he quickly attempted to hide after receiving a look from Illyana. The Cricket’s appearance didn’t bother her too much. After a childhood of demons and monsters, it was surprising how normal these kinds of things quickly became.

Realizing he was being rude, Rory backed up his chair and rose to his feet.

“[color=DarkOliveGreen]I’m going to grab another drink.[/color]” He confirmed before heading off across the room, flashing the two with an apologetic face as he walked away. 

“[color=rosybrown]I’m sorry about him.[/color]” Illyana apologized, turning her attention back towards the cricket.

Cricket simply smiled, his antennas flexing slightly as he did so.

“[color=yellowgreen]No need to apologize, I’m used to people looking at me like that by now.[/color]” His voice was jovial, yet Illyana still couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. 

“[color=yellowgreen]I’m much happier though now.[/color]” He continued, offering her another smile. “[color=yellowgreen]Which is why I want to say to you, that that sadness inside you gets better.[/color]”

Illyana froze as he spoke. It felt as if the words were cutting into her heart. How did he know how she was feeling? Was it really that obvious? Was there a dramatic tattoo saying she was damaged on her forehead? Her mind raced back to the rooftop from when she had first met Rory. The comment he had made about her soul. Was she really that broken?

No. She wasn’t. He was wrong. He had to be. 

“[color=rosybrown]You don’t know anything about me.[/color]” The words left her mouth impulsively, her finger pointing at the cricket accusingly. 

He retreated back slightly at her remark, surprised. Then after a moment of thought, he continued.

“[color=yellowgreen]I know you’re scared.[/color]” He spoke firmly, raising his clawed arm to stop her when she attempted to interrupt. “[color=yellowgreen]I was scared too when this first happened to me. Obviously, our situations are very different, but I know how you feel. It’s tough.[/color]”

Magik sunk back into her chair as he spoke. Her lip trembled, and all she wanted to do was call out and tell him he was wrong. But deep don’t she knew that he wasn’t.

[color=yellowgreen]You go around and the whole world thinks you’re a monster. No matter what you do. No matter how many people you save. They’ll always define you by your past. By how you look. By where you grew up. But Magik...[/color]”

The Canterbury Cricket reared up from his chair and took Illyana’s hands into his own. They were cold and monstrous, yet she didn’t flinch. 

“[color=yellowgreen]They’re wrong. They’re all wrong. You are you, and you are beautiful. You’re not a monster.[/color]”

Illyana couldn’t help but let a smile escape from her lips.

“[color=yellowgreen]I want you to say it.[/color]”

Illyana let out a confused laugh. “[color=rosybrown]What?[/color]”

“[color=yellowgreen]I want you to say you’re not a monster.[/color]” The Cricket demanded, giving her an encouraging look. 

“[color=rosybrown]I’m not saying that.[/color]” She scoffed.

“[color=yellowgreen]Do it.[/color]”

“[color=rosybrown]Fineee[/color]” She groaned childishly before beaming once more. Rising herself, she held the Crickets hand’s and spoke confidently.

“[color=rosybrown]I am not a monster.[/color]”

A cold laugh cut across the room, silencing the murmurs of the pub’s patrons.

The axe blade cut through the Canterbury Cricket’s body like a knife through butter. He didn’t even have a chance to scream. The upper half of his corpse dropped onto the table before them with a loud thud, scattering the cutlery and plates over the floor.

Illyana just stood and watched. Everything felt numb. 

Her eyes followed the blade up as the axe’s owner lifted it back into the air. When she saw them all she wanted to do was scream but no noise came when she opened her mouth. There was only pain. 

The three figures before her stood tall and strong, towering above her menacingly. Their bodies were sheathed in scales of red and brown. Their eyes piercing and cold.

“[color=Maroon]Hello poppet.[/color]” Spittle broke free from the jagged teeth of their leader, S’ym, as he spoke. “[color=Maroon]Did you miss me?[/color]”

They were the Demon’s Three; Belasco’s royal enforcers.