Home sweet home.

They’d only been away for about half a day, but it felt like it’d been more than a month.

He was decent physically, but more than completely exhausted mentally. He now had to come to terms with the fact that his dream wasn’t just some sham. God… is dead. But what does that mean? How will that affect the world?

Akuma was half convinced that demons and gods were nothing but fairy tales. I say half since he himself used to be a faithful believer in such topics. Praying every day, spreading the word and such. Though for some reason he couldn’t seem to remember when exactly he lost his faith. It's as if that chunk of his memory was replaced with a patch of haze.

He let out a sigh, as he opened his front door. And for the first time since wearing this horrible suit, he realized just how much heat it was truly emitting. He was no longer in a biome so frosty, it averaged temperatures of negative degrees, but in a warm house in a regular warm biome. His head started to feel dizzy, and he began losing balance.

(Crap… What’s…happening…?)

He caught himself as he slipped, but before he knew it, he collapsed to the floor and lost consciousness.

Slowly regaining his consciousness, his eyelids flickered to reveal an ominous, dark room. As he lifted his head to inspect his location, the area was suddenly brightened with ceiling lights. The change in brightness jolted him, but for some reason he couldn't seem to enter a defensive stance. That's when his brain finally processed, not only his surroundings, but also his predicament.

Looking around, he deduced that he must have been inside a large prison cell. The metal bars, and air of dread were dead giveaways. Oddly enough the prison cell was far too large for just one person. In fact, I’m willing to guess you could fit well over 1,000 people here. And located in the very center of the cell was him, seated in a wooden chair. He wasn’t strapped down or locked down to it by any means, but no matter how hard he squirmed and tried, he couldn’t seem to move an inch.

Suddenly, a sea of red liquid appeared under him, one that absolutely reeked of iron, and vibrated as if waves on an ocean. Soon the waves settled, and the hands of mere children erupted from the ocean of blood. And though they were kids, they gripped onto his legs with the force of Heracles.

Slowly they pulled themselves up until their faces and even torsos were revealed, as if trying to climb out an endless sea -desperate to not drown. It was then that Akuma realized these were no mere children. The very skin on their back began melting, changing their faces to that of pure bones. Even their former meaty hands were reduced to the very same.

You could see the pains in their hollow eyes, as if their very soul were screaming out. And with each passing second their look of pain grew more and more, until they themselves started hurling their complaints towards Akuma.

One asked, “I prayed like you said, so why is he not helping me?” Another said “Yeah, when will he help us?” One of them behind him proposed an idea. “Maybe you can help us, instead.” Agreeing with the idea, the other two began chanting “Yeah, help us!”, over and over again.

Suddenly, his vision went black, and he found himself resting comfortably in bed. His bed, found below his very ceiling. He was in his home, though unsure how he got there.

(The hell kind of dream was that? Damn. It felt more like recalling a distant memory than a dream.)

He pondered on the dream, then how he managed to make it home, but more than that he was curious how his body suit suddenly vanished. He was wearing it before he passed out, but now they were gone, leaving him with just boxers. He seemed to be in the comfort of his own home, so it didn’t matter much.

He decided to head downstairs where everything came to light.

(Damn. I guess that answers all my questions.)

Sitting on the sofa was his father, glued to some manga. And lying beside him, was the bodysuit he had on. His appearance was a striking similarity to Tenshi’s, just in a more elegant way.

He has a strong accent, so I’ll do the interpreting for you:

“Ahh, yuh wake up, mon” he said as he closed his book.

{Ah you’re awake}

“Y-Yep.” Akuma said, already pondering the best excuse for not just the suit, but everything really.

He patted the sofa spot beside him, basically indicating he wanted Akuma to sit there.

“Come si dun” he ordered with a calm tone.

{Come… sit}

Though he sounded calm, Akuma could feel the atmosphere shift to that of an investigation room. He hadn’t quite thought of a valid excuse yet, so he was forced to do the next best thing. Wing it and hope for the best.

“Suh, Akuma… Wha mek yuh did knock out a mi doorstep them, and wha mek yuh did a ware that bodysuit deh?”

{So, Akuma… Why exactly were you unconscious at my doorsteps, wearing a bodysuit?}

“...”

There was a sudden pause, as he thought of the best way to improvise. He figured it didn’t really matter what he said, if he said it with confidence then his father would believe it. And so he took a deep breath, and with a straight face that could put any actor to shame, he replied, “I'm sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but me and Tenshi actually went out to a cosplay party with his friends.”

“...Suh, yuh a try tell mi seh yuh did deh round twenty add year old pickney?”

{...You mean to tell me; you were hanging out with twenty-year-olds?}

“Yes.” he answered with no hesitation.

(Fu-Fu. An amazing excuse. The best part is that I'm not even lying!)

He looked at me with a face of sheer disappointment, and then released a sigh of disbelief. “And wha mek yuh choose that hot sinthing deh fi wear? The way the thing hot, it knock yuh out.”

{So, for this cosplay party... Why pick this suit exactly? I mean it’s so hot, you even passed out.}

“It was the first one I saw.”

“Hmm… Mi have sup’m mi waa ask yuh.”

{...I see. I have something else to ask you.}

He grabbed the remote that rested in one of the cup holders and powered on the tv. Akuma’s eyes enlarged and his pupils shook as he stared at the screen.

“They are searching their hardest to find any survivors, but with no luck unfortunately” The female reporter said. The ambulance stayed on standby just in case any survivors were found, and the police were blocking off anyone or anything from coming close. You could even see the desperation in the firemen’s eyes, as they scanned the ruble, just wishing to find someone. But all of this was for nothing. He know firsthand that no one could have survived such a disaster. “We suspect that this must be a leak in the gas pipes, some sources even claim terrorism!”

Hitting the power button again, his turned off the display.

“Yuh nuh know noting bout this, right?”

{You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?}

He accidently dropped his calm, straight face and the decibels of his voice greatly sunk. He even stuttered as he answered, “I- I ahh. I don’t.”

(Crap. That was definitely obvious.)

“Ohh?... Well, if yuh seh suh then mi nuh have noting else fi ask yuh then.”

{...Well, if you say so then I won’t question you anymore.}

(H-He fell for that?! …Fu-fu. Stupid old man!)

Hoping to leave before he gave himself away, he rose out of the sofa and crept away in utter silence.

“Wait deh, one more ting. Which part Tenshi deh?”

{Ah, I actually have one more question. Where exactly is Tenshi right now?}

(All these damn questions! Go play detective somewhere else, damn!)

“...He’s staying at his girl's house.”

(Again. Not technically a lie.)

“Ahh. That mek sense mon, gaa yuh bed fi school inna de morning.”

{Ahh. That makes sense. Well, I guess you should be getting some sleep for tomorrow.}

"Ahh... yes I am… Goodnight, dad.”

“Goodnight.”