"How are we supposed to get inside?"

Why was she asking him? He knew less about this place than she, and yet she turned to him for help, the evidence of panic clear in her face. He wasn't used to this at all, this type of interaction. Closing his eyes, he set the bag on the floor and took to his knees, rubbing the temples of his head as he tried to come up with a solution. What could he use from his experiences in order to make the passage easier?

---

"I dare you to break into the backyard."

Euclid, then twelve years old at the time, stood doe-eyed against a group of less than reputable kids, each with a distinctive smirk on their faces. He was too young to know any better during those days, but he was a malleable sort when he was younger; always impressionable, always persuaded. "How do I do that?" he asked. One of the older kids handed him a paperclip. "Figure it out," they said as they turned and left with the rest of them, walking out to the edge of the sidewalk and waiting. The house was abandoned long ago and all the kids knew it. It was only recently that they'd gotten bolder and decided to do something with it, so they sent a mild-mannered kid who was only eager to please into a world of trouble with a paperclip as a means of appealing to a greater society, at least to him.

He stood before the gate, eyeing the lock and trying to figure out what to do. The calls from the sidewalk were distracting, so he tried to block them out, running his fingers over the paperclip. Before long, he had an idea, unbending the clip and slipping it into the lock. After a few minutes of wriggling the long, thin piece of metal, he heard a click and the previously locked gate swung open. The other kids rushed past him, one of them thanking him before offering a low snicker. Euclid smiled. He made someone happy.

Over the years, he honed his ability to pick locks, picking more dangerous and risky places to test his prowess and speed. After he picked locks, he'd leave and let things be. Throughout his time sharpening the skill, he had acquired various and more challenging locks; some of them with hard mechanisms and tumblers, others with combinations and codes. He spent his time ironically locked away in his room, working the inner mechanisms of both the locks in his hands and locks of his mind.

---

"The lock!" Euclid exclaimed, opening his eyes and placing his palms against the door. Looking toward Rose, he stood up and helped her to lower Leon to the ground as comfortably as he could. "I need you to search for something sturdy. It has to be small and thin and long enough, like a paperclip or a, um, a bobby pin or something!"

---

The demon moved forward, hearing the words Callum spoke and inwardly groaning. He wasn't much for conversation, but he'd be venturing with this kid for quite some time. "My name is Bellua," he answered. "I am a Voidwalker and I seek my creator." His muscles tensed, eyes watching the looming chunk of earth getting closer. He could feel it now. Fate was bringing him closer. Soon, he would have his vengeance and his liberator would have his wish fulfilled.

"What do you know of the one they call Muse?" he asked, stopping and turning toward Callum. His eyes showed no life in them as he stared, waiting for an answer.