Almost as if on cue, the doors to their lounge suddenly opened to reveal Sairon's grim face.

   "All of you get up now and follow me. Your next trial is starting."

   "What is it this time? Because swords and blades are becoming repetitive." It was Gyna who said it.

   "No. No blades. Today, you're going to relive each of your deaths."

   They all froze at that, invisible shadows looming briefly in the air before everyone straightened, their eyes clearing of the past.

   "Where are we going?" Eraphim asked.

   Sairon studied him briefly, red eyes no less piercing than usual. "You'll see."

   Kaeshan was the first one to follow him out the door, grunting in relief to be leaving the situation. The others shortly followed with Eraphim and Ingresh in the back, but the atmosphere was nowhere near relaxing.

   Sairon sensed the tense mood like a sixth sense, and it would have been funny if Eraphim wasn't the centre of attention of that tense mood. "What happened?" The demon asked casually.

   No one answered him.

   "What. Happened?"

   Eraphim stopped assessing their surroundings and gave him the brief version, his head lifting slightly: "Threats came out."

   "I see." Sairon sighed. "Of all the teams remaining, why did Hallas station me with you lot again?"

   "Because you're the only one who can stand us probably."

   "We're still a team? For what?" Nyondran suddenly interrupted. Fate, does it really bother him that much?

   "Yes, unofficially. Until the single matches begin, you're all considered one." He then turned back to answer Eraphim's statement without missing a beat. "Hm, true. The other teams are much more civil. Just lowly thieves, rebels, and the occasional soldier or assassin."

   "I'm a rebel," Ingresh reminded him.

   "A rebel captain."

   "Is there a difference?"

   Sairon immediately stopped and spun around, shoving past the other three and getting in Ingresh's face. "When you are down here, Captain, you'll find that even a single rank means a lot."

   Nyondran snarled: "Why are you helping him?"

   Sairon's eyes flashed a deep red before whirling on the assassin. "I'm not. I've merely given him information, whether he uses it is entirely up to him." He faced Ingresh again. "But since you've been spending so much time with Volcron here, you'll probably ignore all my advice just like him."

   Eraphim crossed his arms and raised a brow at that. "Aren't we behind schedule already? Lecture him later, Sairon."

   "Watch your tongue, Volcron."

   "You watch yours, Demon."

   Sairon let out a huff of laughter. "You're lucky I'm on good terms with you. I can't wait to watch how you died. The mighty Eraphim Volcron."

   "Yes?"

   "Ha!" Sairon gave him a knowing smile and continued walking.

   Gyna hadn't stopped studying him all this time. "You two are...friends?"

   Eraphim glanced at her. "No. I just happened to be there when he was killed." Eraphim knew she was probing for information to use against him, but Eraphim made sure not to say anything too revealing.

   "I thought demons couldn't be killed permanently."

   "That's a myth, they're killed just like everyone else. Arch Demons are just harder to get rid of. Anyways, Sairon and I have had a neutral relationship since then. Why do you think he's always down here? A dead demon can't enter the realms above so he mind as well be Hallas's messenger down here."

   "You're a strange male with strange friends and strange secrets."

   "Indeed," Nyondran mused from the corner of Eraphim's vision.

   The tension was building again.

   "Oh look, we've arrived," Ingresh suddenly said impassively, but Eraphim silently thanked him for diffusing the interrogation and would have gotten down on his knees in gratitude if it weren't awkward in front of everyone watching.

   Sairon nodded in confirmation up ahead and pushed open the doors, letting out a stream of grey and white mist that seemed to be coming from a hologram of sorts in the centre of the room. A contestant's memories were already playing near the end, Hallas and his demons watching silently from the side. So that was why the room was so dark and mysterious. Even the air was chilling and cold with suspense.

   All fourteen other remaining contestants were obediently lined up along the side of the room watching silently, some nervous some emotionless.

   The contestant's memories finally ended with a piercing scream and the mist dispersed. Hallas seemed unfazed, unimpressed even.

   Eraphim supposed it was a requirement to meet Hallas's expectations, since he was the one returning the winner to life after all. Nevermind surviving alone, if Hallas didn't like you then forget about coming back to life. Eraphim felt slightly bad for the contestant, but then again, they probably hadn't been innocent while living.

   He spotted them standing at the entry. "Ah, Sairon," Hallas greeted mildly. "It's about time you arrived."

   Sairon bowed deeply at the waist. "A minor delay, My Lord."

  Hallas waved it aside and spared the contender a quick glance as they staggered towards the side. His black eyes swept back around and locked onto Eraphim. "You're next. Do impress me again, but with less destruction of my property this time."

   "And if I don't?"

   Hallas gave him his usual cold smile. "We wouldn't want that to happen." But Eraphim suddenly felt someone prodding his mind shields and reluctantly let Hallas in.

   Because you used blood magic in your final moments and only half-blooded Celestials' possess it, I will tamper your memories slightly so it won't be displayed. We wouldn't want that secret to get out to the Four Realms, now would we? Half-breed children of the Celestials, utterly disgraceful.

   Eraphim replied with as much disdain as he could muster. If it did, you Celestials would be more affected than me. I'd be glad even, if a half-breed Celestial finally had enough of the hiding and exposed you all.

   Hallas's reply was unfazed. Don't worry, I learned not to make that mistake after my father created two half-breed brothers. He laughed in his mind and retreated, sweeping his arm before him and gesturing towards the centre of the room. Bastard. Eraphim gave Ingresh's hand a light squeeze and walked past the God of Death unwavering.

   He stood in the centre of the room and did a quick sweep of everyone's gazes on him. At that moment, he suddenly wished he didn't have a golden aura around him constantly. He was practically the only one wearing white! Fate.

   Hallas was slowly stalking towards him, black eyes gleaming with dangerous anticipation. "How does this work exactly?" Eraphim asked slowly.

   Hallas had reached him by then and raised a single hand, black magic swirling around his long fingers. "Like this."

   Two cold fingers touched Eraphim's temple, and then all was black for a few seconds until a familiar voice he hadn't heard in four thousand years spoke.

   "Are you sure? I can stay on Prefic duty at least until everyone settles down."

   Rinaren.