Alexander Phineus Scott had come to power about a cycle ago. He did not look twenty-five, let alone forty as he claimed. He'd taken over after the previous CEO's death, but in truth had been more or less running Hell for the last hundred and eighty-five years.

He had a good run at first, taking power after Naomi Sato. He was still a dictator, but he tried his best to keep things fair. He was also in his mid twenties, and a complete idiot. He had no idea what he was doing.

The Few had been his idea. It had started entirely with the zodiac theme, since he liked the idea of Hell's leaders all being vaguely occult. Plus he thought it was a really cool way to govern people. The opportunities were endless for things like merchandising, designing, and themed parties. None of those things ever happened, but Alexander always thought the possibility was there.

The name had come later, actually, after ages of planning. F.E.W.- Finances, Etc., and War. Fucking amazing. The zodiac part of it was more important anyways.

When the first cycle change happened, Alexander had been very surprised, and more nervous. He'd aged during his first reign as dictator, even after the cycles had started and the Earth had reset- he, like me, had been in his late thirties when the second cycle change had started, and now he was stuck in the scrawny body of a twenty-one year old.

Not like he hadn't been scrawny before.

As uncomfortable as he was with his sudden age change, it did make it slightly easier to live in Hell. He often pretended to be a bastard child of himself, before he took to just getting a haircut and changing his name every couple years.

Nineteen years ago he decided to come out of the shadows and make a proper run at ruling again. The job of the Ophiuchus, the ruler and CEO of Hell, always went to a member of The Few, and Alexander had only joined a month previous.

He was once again pretending to be some distant relative of himself, Alexander Scott the fifteenth or whatever, and he'd reentered Hell as a soldier with a pretty good knack for killing angels.

The members of The Few were about the same back then- it was only nineteen years- though of course, Aquarius was just Scorpio at the time, and Sydney had yet to join. In her place was Alexander, the Aries.

Alexander, as the newest member, had little chance of scavenging votes from the others. Military members always came and went too fast to be considered viable- though voting would be done quickly, Alexander was still on active duty. There was a good chance, had he not been immortal, he would be killed before proper election.

Lucky for him, no one was else was really a viable candidate. Stacy was interested, but unelectable, and Kelsey was apathetically taking charge, if only because no one else would.

Alexander had nothing really going for him but his guile. He was young, weak, and shorter than his platformed shoes would lead you to believe.

He told me he did some fucked up shit to get where he was, but I didn't believe him. When I pressed him, he admitted all it'd really had been were a couple of threats. He sent someone after Kell, Kelsey's best friend, and for a while after that Kelsey had been bitter and uninterested.

Alexander had somehow won. I'd told him my thoughts on this- that Kell was a paranoid guy who probably thought the attack had been homophobic in nature, and Alex had probably just ruined Kelsey's decades long relationship.

Alexander told me he hadn't known Kell was bi. If he had, he assured me, he would have asked his hit man to incorporate that. Not in a homophobic way, as he was quick to correct, just that he'd absolutely pay someone to be homophobic towards Kell. If that made sense? Just to really secure this job.

And I said, 'I'm not sure a gay man can be particularly homophobic', to which Alexander scoffed something about disliking labels, to which I scoffed something along the lines of exactly how gay he was.

Or, sorry, 'gay with rare exceptions'. Me and him were raised with small town church sensitivities, but at least I'd gotten over it a while ago. Alexander still was a bit sensitive to be, as he said it, a double minority. My reply to that was that I was one too, dipshit, and then I gave up the argument.

The old bastard never changed.

Oh well. He'd gotten the Ophiuchus chair, and though he'd played himself as calm and mature as possible, his next nineteen years in office did a lot to reverse that image. He was quick-thinking, sure, but only for his own gain. And he had an obsession with killing the angels.

He also, very obviously, didn't age. At first it was been excusable, as demons aged around half the rate of humans, and often looked youthful for a longer span of time. But in almost twenty years he didn't look like he had aged even five, and people were growing uncomfortable.

Luckily, he rarely showed his face. He had a total of three public appearances: when he was first elected, when the new angelswords had first been created, and now, when the city was at it's busiest.

So no one really had time to notice he didn't age. Except The Few, of course, but he did his best to assure they didn't speak of it.

This is what Phin told me throughout the day, over brunch and over dinner, and over tea and over coffee. We ate a lot, actually. Somehow talking about the past never felt proper unless it was accompanied by some sort of hot beverage.

He was exactly as I had left him.

"It's so awful being stuck in a twenty-one year old's body," he said with dramatic flair.

"You do realize I both am and look younger than you, right?"

"Still. I never hear you complain about it, so I figure it's my solemn duty."

We were having hot chocolate on the balcony of his penthouse apartment. One of his bodyguards made sure we never ran out. Phin, clearly a twelve year old stuck in the body of a two hundred and seven year old twenty one year old, had proudly informed me all all his bodyguards were prostitutes. Former ones, actually. Now they were simply fairly attractive girls with guns, who sometimes cleaned his house. He'd never slept with any of them.

"You seem a bit older though. At least since the last time I saw you. Certainly since the last time I saw you before the other last time I saw you."

"What, a hundred years ago? Hey, maybe we're still aging, just at a rate of one year for every hundred. Wouldn't that be fun? I'd be like, twenty-one and a half. Finally on the cusp of proper adulthood."

"I don't think Hell is a sustainable enough system for me to reach adulthood then, if that really is the case." He'd taken up a habit of smoking, and lit a cigarette before offering me one as well. I denied him, even if it was harmless.

"So who's this friend you want to annihilate?" He said with a puff of smoke.

"That's not the best way to put it. I'm not really getting rid of him."

"About the same though, isn't it? You're still getting rid of part of him. Trust me, I've done almost the same thing as this. But this was pre-cycles, so I had to sell my soul to get it done. And it didn't end well."

"This isn't anything like when you sold your soul."

"Surely there's another option."

"I don't think so. This is about the only thing I can think of."

"The only thing you can think of that doesn't hurt your pride, you mean?"

"...You know, this city being named Pride really has ruined the word pride for me. Same with all the other sins. It's just weird to use it."

"Yeah, it was my idea to name the floors like that. Same with all the major buildings. I thought it would validate the 'Hell is spooky and occult' thing a bit more, but in hindsight, it is a bit weird."

"It was a bad idea."

"I politely disagree."

The night was blue and black, and I watched the workers below slowly mop up the square. It felt like the city was quieter than usual, a little more still. Like less lights were on, and the stars were just barely dimmed. No one wanted to be heard.

"You weren't there when I sold my soul," Phin said.

"It was because of the angels. At this point, I think I've figured most of it out."

"Back when we were running the experiments, back when we really were twenty-one and twenty for the first time... there were four desperately named vials there. And the troubles really started when we got to testing Grace. It only worked on humans."

I nodded, "Yeah. And Michael was still human then. I always figured you had something for him."

"You're the one who was dating him," Phin said, repulsed.

"But didn't you want to?"

"I regretted experimenting on him." Phin ignored me. "In a lot of ways. That's what the soul deal ended up being about, this real melancholy over everything I'd done. It was stupid."

"To be fair, I don't think either of us were expecting him to survive that shot, let alone return with a couple thousand more test subjects."

"Do you know what I wished for, fifteen years later, as the all powerful leader of Hell?"

"Why don't you just say so instead of asking me a lead in question like that."

He grimaced. "I wished for everything to be fixed, and for things to go back to the way that they were. And for a chance to atone for my actions."

"How sappy."

"It was worse when I was saying it. Crying, and all that, right in front of them all. I was weak."

"I wouldn't call you weak..." I mumbled, embarrassed at myself for even saying it.

"At least I get a cool title out of it. Angelmaker. Bringing of the end. Something like that. Been spending the last two centuries trying to figure how to weave it into my own mythology."

"That's what you get for fucking around with mysterious glowing liquids."

Phin looked as pensive as his boyish face would allow. "I can't imagine why that mixture was ever created. That kind of science was... it was just far ahead it seemed highly impossible."

"Especially for someone who doesn't know the first thing about science," I said, "Of course, neither do I."

"Science is fairly simple once you get used to it. And having a good assistant who can do the work for you helps. Anyways, by the end that day I had created cycles, my experiments had vanished, and the whole lab blew up. It was a fairly busy day."

"I think I've had worse."

"Knowing your life, I'd give a... five percent chance of that being true? And that's in agreement with you, by the way. It's up from zero."

My hot chocolate had run out, and I waved away the hand of the bodyguard who tried to refill it. The conversation lulled

"So what should I do?" I asked.

"Seriously, why would you even bother turning to me for advice? You're the responsible one. Hell, you basically raised our friend group."

"But do you think I should do it? I think I should do it."

"What, should you purposefully try and get this kid Blake waved off into the great beyond of the cycles? I don't know. Sure. Or no. Your choice."

"It'll be a bit of a pain. He'll be like two years old. But I've waited this long. By the end of next cycle, things will be better."

"You don't sound too enthusiastic about it."

"I sure hope I don't. I'd hate to sound happy about something."

"Oh Ella! Truly the light of my life. The joy of everyone's. The shining muse of subtle happiness. Have you ever considered pretending to give a shit about something?"

"I give a shit about you."

"Oh my god. Ella. Are you proposing? Is that what this is? Omigod."

"Shut up, Phinny. And stop calling me Ella."

There was another long pause.

"Are you starting to realize how terrible this plan is?" Phin asked.

"What do you mean? This is clearly the best idea."

"Okay, it's the easiest. But is it really the best?"

"Yes. It is."

"Well, if you're so certain."

"You know, I really think I am."

This is where there ought to be a stinger, a thought like: I wasn't.

But honestly, I didn't really know.