"Bianca, dear; could you let your father in?" A memory played in Bianca's head. Sorrowfully, she brought her knees to her chest as she sat silently on her new bed. She watched the stars with tired eyes.

"Dad, Tsukiyomi... Whatever; I don't know if this is right. How can I be the daughter of a God?" She asked with a low, quiet tone while tracing her finger on the windowsill. She quietly watched as a shooting star rocketed through the skyline. It twinkled when it met her eye.

She sighed and shook her head. A pit formed in her stomach, deep and dark. It was as if she swallowed a black hole and it wanted to devour her in return. She tried to speak, but words wouldn't form. Bianca lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes. She bit her lip.

Softly, quietly, with a hushed sadness... she sobbed. Bianca had buried her head in her pillow; the cold silk wrapped around her head. She pulled the comforter over her body and attempted to feel the warm embrace of affection she desired.

A profoundly uncomfortable melancholy confounded Bianca. It was like a thief in the night, and it struck fiercely. First, this phantasmal thief jabbed its long dagger of emotional turmoil into her throat. Then, it tightened like waves of compounding chaos; rumination surged throughout her entire being. There was a soft knock on her door. It wasn't loud nor abrasive - it was quiet; almost like a non-verbal whisper.

A thick-accented masculine voice cut through the silence.

"Is everything OK in there?" the voice asked as the doorknob turned. The door was gingerly pulled open. Hajrudin gently made his entrance and looked to Bianca with what seemed like an uncharacteristic softness in his gaze. He sat down beside Bianca and sighed.

"It's hard. Never gets easier - cutting all ties with the normal and embracing the abnormal. It's a tough thing to do." His voice was no longer the demanding and stern booming thunder that he roared during the day. It was more of a soft, small purr now. He put a hand on Bianca's back and turned his head away. A certain indescribable awkwardness permeated the room. He turned to Bianca and chuckled sheepishly.

"Is it OK if I hug you?" He giggled and sighed, rubbing his eyes nervously. He, too, was affected by the bandit of emotion.

"From the sound of it, you sounded like you needed a hug." Hajrudin waited for an answer as the silence grew between them. Hajrudin sighed; he let his hair down as he shifted his gaze to the ground.

"When I met dad, I was five. I grew up with a badass Norwegian mother who was my Skjold...Bullies, illness; if there was anything that could harm me, she would be there to protect me." Hajrudin shifted his weight as a sensation of pins and needles wormed its way up to his legs and his rear.

"Dad tried to be there for me, and for the most part he was. I was, after all, his firstborn. Then I met Nathaniel...." Hajrudin sniffled as he rubbed his eyes. Folding his glasses and clutching them in his hands, tears ran down his cheeks softly.

"...He offered to take me to a place where I could be safe; where I could run and play all day without a care in the world. Of course, me, being the stupid fucking child I was, chose to go with Nathaniel."

"Why was that a bad thing if you were safe, in a big house, and got good meals?" Bianca asked bluntly. All traces of her sadness had faded; She spoke with a monotonous tone. She folded her legs and huffed, twirling her finger in the air and rolling her eyes. Hajrudin scratched his chin and nodded silently to himself.

"You have a good question, but what I failed to mention was… was my mother's failing health." It was evident by his voice this was a sore subject. His mouth opened, and yet he failed to speak. Suddenly he spoke with a shaky tone. "My Mother worked herself practically to death,

"The day my mother, Brynhillde, passed away, a bright blue moon filled the sky. I knew then that he loved her, and that deep down, he wanted the best for me." Hajrudin continued to stumble over his words in an emotional stupor. Moving his hands to Bianca's nightstand, he placed his glasses down. He brought his hands to his lap and folded them.

"You may think, ‘Well? Did Dad love my mother?’" Hajrudin nodded in response to the question he asked. "Father loves all his children, and all of his wives tremendously."

"Loved," Bianca cut in coldly, bringing the reality of the situation forward. "He's dead."

Bianca shifted her weight and placed herself at the far end of the bed, away from Hajrudin.

"Are you scared of me?" Hajrudin asked this with no build-up or preparation. He hunched his spine and brought his hands to his forehead. His hands, mighty and taut, rubbed in between the thick wrinkles on his brow.

"Why wouldn't I be? You're a seven-foot giant from frozen fucking nowhere in Norway."

"And you're a petite little gal from Brooklyn. To someone - maybe not me, but to that one specific person - you're pretty scary. It's all a matter of perspective," Hajrudin spoke with unalienable clarity and wisdom.

"You're not the first person to fear me and you will most definitely not be the last." He sighed and roughly ran his hands through his hair.

"If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." Hajrudin grabbed his glasses and stood up, making his way to the door.

"Thank you for the offer, but I’ll kindly say no," Bianca said with a stubborn, but purposeful coldness.

"Is it something I've done? Or are you just... so closed off to this abnormal world that you can't accept it?" He asked, standing as still as a scarecrow in the doorway.

"Either way, I understand. I have walked in your shoes for miles, so try to walk in mine for a couple meters," He spoke in an offended tone before walking out of the room. Bianca sighed. A pout grew on her mouth as she folded her arms. Bianca thought and pondered for a moment before sighing.

She pushed herself off of her bed and threw the door to her room open. Hajrudin stood in the hallway, pointing at something at the other end. He looked back at her with a finger to his lips. He then put his forearm in front of Bianca in a protective way.

"One of Nathaniel's Douji got loose," He murmured, pointing with his head to the hunched creature at the end of the hallway.

The creature was small and red with leathery and bumpy skin; two large stone-like horns protruded from its skull like stalactites, dotted with the most elusive crystals known to man. It had piercing, almost feral yellow eyes; large and round like two small floodlights slammed into its head. Hunched over like a monkey, it sniffed the air before baring its fangs and emitting a low, threatening grumble.

"Bianca, go get Nathaniel; I'll try to hold this thing off." Hajrudin folded his glasses, roughly handing them to Bianca before tying up his hair. "I don't care how much noise you make, just get Nathaniel.'' Hajrudin squinted as he shifted his weight, preparing a fighting stance.

Bianca slowly began to process what was happening. A creature - no. No; a demon was loose. Yes, that was it, and Hajrudin was going to fight it to the death. Instinctively, she fled. Her body sped down the stairs so quickly that those with a less trained eye would have mistaken her for a speeding blur.

Hajrudin held out his palm. In it, a small glow fluttered around his hand. The kanabō club from earlier - oversized in all its glory - appeared in his hand. The Douji hissed loudly.

Sprinting down the hall, it lunged at Hajrudin. It was clawing at him, with talons sharper than any blade. It drew blood with nothing but mindless swipes.

With every drop of blood spilled, The creature seemed to grow larger. First, its digits and claws, then its face, and lastly, its overall musculature. Hajrudin huffed, taking a large breath in as he attempted to stand his ground against the growing threat.

Hajrudin lowered his head and glared at the ground as the beast senselessly battered against his skull. A puff of steam exited Hajrudin's mouth and, like steam from a locomotive, he puffed again.

"Are you done?" He asked with irritation. He swung his large spiked club over his shoulder. The creature, noticeably stunned, jumped back. An instinctual fear pounded like an alarm in its mind.

‘Run! Run! Run!! Save Your Skin!!!’ Its mind repeated this over and over as Hajrudin ominously stepped forward. Steam poured out of every single pore on his body.

Raising his club, Hajrudin prepared a strike. Magic surged through his entire body as his muscles bulged. He stepped into the swing, and time seemed to slow to a crawl.

“STEAM MAGIC: SWING, BATTER, SWING!!!!”

Inside Hajrudin's body, steam pumped throughout like he was nothing more than a machine, with his arms gathered in his arms. BAM!!!

The club connected and connected hard. As he pushed the club into the creature's head, his arms made several horrifying cracks and pops.

Finally, when all was said and done, the beast sprawled to the ground, squealing and hissing. Clutching its horns, or what remained of them, it screamed out in pain. Hajrudin dropped to his knees and exhaled one last plume of smoke.

"Shuten, that is no way to behave!" A voice from behind called from the end of the hallway; footsteps soon followed. Placing a hand on Hajrudin's shoulder, Nathaniel, or what sounded like a voice inhabiting Nathaniel's body, scolded the tall brute.

"That was fucking stupid! You could have gotten yourself killed." The voice being used was utterly unfamiliar to the friendly and playfully polite tone that everyone was used to. This voice was harsh, like the feeling of sandpaper against one's skin. Nathaniel - or whoever he was - turned to the squealing imp. He forcefully choked the crying creature, and through gritted teeth, he verbally roughed up the demon.

"If you won't behave, I will erase you!" Nathaniel's eyes glowed yellow before the imp became encased in shackles of Gold.

"As for both of you little shits... Honestly, I don't know what Nate sees in you." After stating that, he slapped Hajrudin across the face. "You especially; ‘strong firstborn’ my ass! You can barely carry that damn mace of yours." This person shook their head before leaving with a snide chuckle.

"Oh, and before you ask, Nate and I are... how to put it… Roommates."

Meanwhile...

A hallowed hall of gold swords held a throne; godly in architecture and execution, with a foundation of skulls and daggers. Its beauty was otherworldly, with war-like depravity that seemed to only make the sacred throne even more divine.

Upon it sat a man: taller than any ceiling, and with a beard of snowy silk, he snickered with a sinister aura. Covered in gold and other precious metal, he waved his hand. His gauntlet made an odd ringing noise when it went idle. With a boom of his voice, the whole room shook.

"I have glimpsed it... the Singularity," he roared with, not so much of an angry force, but more of a calm reverence that the earth couldn't comprehend. "Defier of my will."

He clenched a fist, and shadows filled the room. "You cannot hide forever. One day, you will show your hand." His lips pulled back into a slight smile, then laughter that was bold and apocryphal, which sounded like it came straight from an old ruin inscribed mythology.

"And when you do, I'll destroy you!"

TO BE CONTINUED!!!