The country was going to collapse. Emmit knew the reality had been staring him in the face and he had spent way too long trying to hide from the unfortunate gaze to have many options left. Such are the woes of the life of a coward.

While he hid, his colleagues readied up for the impending battle to come, gave all they could to the eldritch demon they sold their souls to or died in service to the infernal. His buddy and partner had straight up defied the owner of their souls, joined forces with a demon slayer and started planting roots to a new life he was ready to defend. Emmit had just stayed in the middle, neither serving nor defying because he was too scared to do either.

-

On the day he sold his soul, he was a coward then too. 30 people had been bound and dragged to the pit of hell after working to prove their loyalty. Emmit used to look forward to it, he’s heard the power that some of the gang lords had from this demon’s power and he wanted an easy way to power and influence too. He had no other aspirations, no family, no friends and no dreams; he was shamefully bland in every sense. 

What Emmit didn’t expect that day was the slaughtering. The fatal strike that was given to each and every person who looked for demonic approval so that the true choice was to either join or die. He was terrified but not everyone was. The first person out of the group chose death, the coward's way out and what would have been the option Emmit picked as well if it wasn’t for the second person.

The next they dragged out of the group already had a hard edge to them that made him almost intimidating to look at or meet his gaze. Since it was his turn to either choose death or join, they plunged a dagger into his chest. The group that watched stirred in mixed emotions while watching their fates but Emmit was in awe as this guy never broke eye contact with the one who stabbed him. He kept that eye contact through what has been described as the worst pain beyond imaginable. For the rest of Emmit’s life he told no one, but to him, that guy was cool beyond explanation and that’s why he chose to follow him around wherever he went. 

-

Life hadn’t been as great as he originally hoped. He was almost stuck working in some of the lowest ranked fields without being able to rise up, he usually got the short end of the stick because Emmit still could never learn to grow out of being a coward. Too spineless to stand up for himself, always sneaking out of every bad situation, and too scared to actively pursue anything that wasn’t handed to him, he otherwise stuck with that edgy badass, whom he later learned was named Cifer.

The closer to D-day approached, the more stuck on the fence Emmit became until he was given that one last push. His superiors never needed him to do anything anymore, people hardly paid him any mind and went about their own business. Sure he did have a problem from being annoying and clingy so it wasn’t new but this was different. Everyone was just now too busy for him and he wasn’t against it, he didn’t want to die in any kind of fight or battle but also didn’t want to die because of defying the owner of his soul. But a visitor came to his place one day and gave him the final decision.

“You’re being given your freedom.” The intruding crime lord said as they entered Emmit’s attic apartment. “Take this and go free with whatever you want to do” he continued while Emmit scrambled out of his bed, not expecting anyone at all. A ring clattered against the ground towards him the figure had tossed forwards and the cowardly Foxian had just barely time to recover before trying to grab at what was tossed. Emmit quickly looked it over and turned back to the more powerful of the two and just asked “Why?..” The man gave no answer, only listed out the conditions his new found freedom came with. “You would not talk about any kind of connections or reputation of any from this life has or have had. You will neither explain all that you know about our inner workings and system.”

Emmit slowly nodded, that was enough and without more the man turned and left, that was that, he was now completely freed. Slipping on the ring, there was a clarity of mind that it brought, pushing away the distant whispers that always echoed and buzzed about the head from the demon and others. With this new found freedom, he went for a walk.

-

Emmit just kept walking, undisturbed, unstopped by anyone cultist or guards alike. He wandered to the upper floors of their city, ascending higher than he’s ever traveled before and taking in the beautiful sights around him for the first time. The clean streets, finished buildings that had no sign of cracks or wears, fresh paint and pristine appearances. It almost felt like traveling to an entirely new world and it was beautiful.

Emmit has traveled to other places before but never knew that only several layers of hardened metal, lives above his own, was a place that can be so peaceful and lovely. He got to see the sky of his home for the first time and with some finagling in a previous layer, he was able to find clothes of some service attire to blend in with the proper and nicely dressed. 

On his walk Emmit thought about what kind of life these people must be living, what does their day to day encompass and how could they manage to do it all? That was far out of his scope of understanding until he remembered that in a brief conversation his buddy Cifer mentioned that there was a time, what felt like a whole life ago, that he had lived topside once. 

For his own amusement, he looked for houses to imagine where Cifer might have lived before. Was it one of those big mansions with too many rooms to decide what to do with? Was it one of those luxury apartments that owned two whole floors to themselves? Were they the modest type to live below their means just to make their actions feel more grandiose in the public?

-

It was all greatly amusing until he noticed a “For Sale” sign on one of the giant fancy and luxury mansions he came across. With nothing else better to do, he wanted to find out just how much would these homes cost anyways. With all the freedom he could want and all the time on his hands, he decided to investigate. Going through the proper and legal chain, for the first time in his life, he was surprised to see that people, while apprehensive about him, were still cordial, professional. These people didn’t kick him in the shins or trip him up at first glance, bark down to him or try and do one over on him. It was nice for once; nice enough for him to start to wonder if there was a possibility he could have been able to turn his life around at some point before passing the point of no return. 

The homes that were for sale were astonishingly cheap for their worth. Houses that were formerly worth 8 figures were now within the 4 and 5 figure costs, wildly affordable. The realtors explained that it was most people’s “last minute ditch efforts to try and earn some money back” while also leaving to save themselves since there was a large possibility that the homes wouldn’t make it through whatever may come. 

Looking through the quick catalog of homes, he knew he could afford it with all the expensive stuff Cifer dumped on him and some extra cash scraped together. He thought about living on top while it all goes south to enjoy the final hour but on the other hand, what would be the point? To make sure the house was comfortable enough to live in would take about a week and then how much time after that would he have? Not much. But Cifer and his new life could. The ol’ bastard already went and redeemed himself to some goddess and will be able to live a cute little happily ever after. A lot of the money would be coming from Cifer’s stuff anyways.

-

So that’s what Emmit decided to do. Spending his time selling what he could with a renewed internet connection, thanks to the guild and selling what he could to evacuation groups. Having an expensive glass of wine or champagne to calm the nerves, take the whole bottle in some cases and running quick errands. Because the evacuation groups had to follow a process and couldn't simply leave and return, Emmit started running quick errands for people. He would go to their homes or businesses to retrieve items they had left behind, hoping to complete the tasks quickly enough to earn some tips. There were times he took a little too long and the people he was running errands for already left before he came back, so he would return the belongings to the guild attendants who definitely did not tip.

Passing the time that way was definitely occupying the empty loneliness that lurked just out of sight, so when Cifer finally did reach back out again he was more excited to hear from his buddy. Maybe he might need help with something, or he could get Cifer anything or just tell him how everything was going. He may have also been a little too eager to hear from his buddy and partner that Cifer’s evasiveness didn’t even effect himself anymore like it might have. It also didn’t deter him from what his plans about the house are. It was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity and it needed to be taken and used for a whole rest of a lifetime. That’s how Emmit saw it. 

When his old partner didn’t need him anymore, he just went back to what he did before and very quickly was able to scrape enough to afford a nice big house. One that had a little green house/garden extension, a nice big bedroom and even a little pool on a balcony. Maybe this is something Cifer would like, him and his new partner. He filled out all the paperwork, even put down Cifer’s name for the purchase, money all deposited and transferred. Emmit did it all, up until the signature for the deed was needed, that part he will leave for Cifer to sign and turn in. There was still free time, so he went about cleaning up just anything that looked out of place. A knocked over trash Can, return the trash into the bin, sweep away broken glass, straighten up a door that leaned tilted on its hinges. All menial work just to get out of his head as time ticked closer and closer. 

Eventually, he decided that maybe he could write a letter. It’s rather melodramatic and something emotional saps would find themselves doing, but maybe Cifer might miss the gift he’s leaving him if he doesn’t write any instructions down; he won’t be there to tell Cifer himself. And so he did.

“Hey buddy,

From the sounds of it, it sounds like you’re giving the big guy a run for his money down there. Some people have come from the higher levels and even they say that the tremors can be felt from all the way up there. I wasn’t going to write anything but it seems like I got some time on my hands. In the chances this world doesn’t go to absolute shit and the goddesses decide to wipe this planet off the star maps, I got you some stuff for after your big redemption battle. 

Some nice drinks to savor or share or sell if you want. I got an envelope for ya, I was thinking it would be better than that rickety old thing you had. I vaguely remembered some of the stuff you told me about the great ol’ life before and hope it meets your standards. While I did get most of the money from the stuff you told me to just keep, I figured they could be put to better use. I counted out the days and even if I stayed wasted, I couldn’t finish it all by myself. Bummed out I never got to find myself a bad bitch to be my ride or die like you. I kinda guessed by how defensive you got when I was talking about ol curly locks so don’t get mad at anyone for spilling the beans. You can’t hide anything from your partner, I know ya too well bud. Pour a cold one out for me bud but don’t think that’ll get you off the hook, you owe me. This whole situation has been so much more than I signed up for. You looked really tough when we first met. You know me and my ironclad will, I don’t get scared; but it hasn't been easy. It would have been easier if I had my buddy around.

I missed the last evacuation call getting that paperwork, I think the chick at the desk noticed the white fur showing.

I been forgetting to keep the whites away. 

As for repayment, in the next life, you gotta get me-"

The letter trailed off at the end, the final sentences seemingly written down in a rush as though they were spur of the moment thoughts to try and fill in the rest of the page. Emmit sat next to the table, with his arms crossed, an unlit cigar in one hand, the other holding a pencil that poked at his cheek. It looked as though he fell asleep, deep in thought and unable to put together those last final words.