I knew who Kako was. I grew up listening to the stories from Mother. Her storytelling painted him vividly in my mind as the leader of the Demons' uprising against the Angels, the embodiment of Chaos. The tales often blurred the line between myth and reality, but the message on him was clear.

“This isn’t real,” I whispered in shock.

Kako slowly circled me, his form becoming clearer in the darkness. 

The tales often described the horrifying appearances of the original demons, but no description prepared me for the terror standing before me.

He appeared extremely large and slightly hunched, his arms long and almost touching the ground beneath us as he walked. Yet even in his bent state, he towered over me, standing at a height of seven feet or more. His skin had a grey tone and his hands held long, curled fingernails, yellowed with filth. 

“Oh, it’s very real,” Kako replied, his words dripping with amusement. “But I'm not here to harm you.”

My vocal cords cracked, my throat dry as I responded to him, “But… you are— evil.”

He laughed at this, the sound so quick and sharp that I flinched. “Evil? A very narrow view, indeed.”

Even on my knees, I was shaking. Sweat pooled underneath my limbs as he circled me. Any moment now, he would strike, and I would cease to exist.

He stepped in front of me, smirking and revealing sharp teeth. “I suppose that's what happens when you reveal the truth. I strip away the comforting lies and delusions that people cling to. Those who are weak call it evil— but I don’t believe in lies."

Kako stepped closer, his body increasingly larger next to my frame. I hung my head and stared at my hands, gripping onto the floor in hopes of steadiness. 

One of his long fingernails slid right under my chin. 

This is it. I’m dead.

But all he did was lift my head to meet his glowing eyes.

"You are not weak. You understand that the suffering in this world is caused by those who claim to be good– they are just wolves in sheep’s clothes."

His words stirred memories within me: the angelic Mongrels, who became the Kingsguard’s, and the pain they inflicted upon us. 

Suddenly, the dark shadows around me began to morph into something— revealing scenes drawn from the back of my mind. My brows knit together in confusion and I glanced at Kako, who pointed to the scene before us.

“See for yourself,” he simply said.

I watched helplessly as a familiar vision unfolded—Sir Seraphiel punished by a Kingsguard for merely glancing at a pure one: the title of a full human without celestial ties. He was on the ground, curled into a ball. A thirteen-year-old Cyrus, in his childish bravery, had charged forward, striking the guard’s jaw with all his might.

“You little rat!” the guard snarled, turning his fury on Cyrus. 

As I watched them struggle, punished so severely over such a minor thing, an ache of helpless anger coursed through me. I was reminded once again of the reality of our world.

Kako’s voice dripped with mocking sympathy. “Is this justice?”

The shadows morphed again, knitting themselves into a memory from two weeks ago– me, cowering in the corner of my dim room. I watched as an outsider as Father towered over me with hatred etched into his features.

“How about this one?” Kako said.

“Please… stop.” My voice trembled, filled with dread. I knew the sequence all too well. 

“The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you.” He continued. “Your own father despises you, Noemi. He despises you because of your bloodline,” I saw my father as he pulled off his leather waistband, stepping closer to the younger version of me. “He despised you because your face reminds him of your mother.”

“Stop it!” I shouted. “I don’t want to see this again! It’s not real! I’m not a Lament.” 

But the look that Kako gave me told me that I was.

Even as I closed my eyes, the scene played on, unavoidable– my father’s rage manifesting in violence against my body. Tears filled my eyes as the helplessness I felt then started creeping back in.

I heard Kako speak up again, his tone the same soothing attempt. “If you don’t watch these reminders, you won’t believe me when I say that I am the one looking for justice.”

The scene warped again, this time revealing my mother. She argued with my father, his fury demonstrated in a slap that landed across her angelic brand.

I crawled forward, desperately trying to get a closer view of her.

"You filthy liar!" he screamed at her.

This wasn’t my memory.

My father towered over my mother. "Tell me! How long did you know you had demonic blood?" 

She knelt, sobbing, her long auburn hair spilling over the floor. She didn’t respond.

“How is this possible?” He raged. “How the hell is Noemi still alive? She’s already fourteen years old!”

Her reply was soft, pleading. "I swear, I- I don’t know. Please don’t hurt her. The King will kill her–”

A crashing sound reverberated off the wall. Her attempt at reasoning was ignored by him. He continued to rage, throwing things around the room.

“You fucking dirty demon!” 

Suddenly, using his ability, he raised his hand and flung her body, causing her to collide into the wall with a thud. I heard a crack and she bounced toward the floor, trembling as she attempted to crawl away with broken bones.

A choked sob escaped my throat and Kako placed his hand on my shoulder. 

“Don’t you see?” My father advanced, crouching down and grabbing a fistful of her hair. Her cries became shrieks. “Don’t you fucking see how this is going to hurt me? How if the King finds out, he will kill me?” 

“P- please, Lucian.” She begged. “You’re hurting me, please!”

"This is your fault," he said, raising his hand to her heart. "You tainted my bloodline with your demonic heritage. The King’s marriage was under the lie of your angelic descent, so he WILL forgive me if he finds out about this." 

Her eyes widened in horror. “Lucian, p-please! Don’t do this! We love each other!”

She let out a forcible grunt in pain as his hand twisted over her chest, stopping her heart. 

His next words– the cruelest thing I’d ever heard him say, "I don’t love you, demon."

He dropped her and she thudded to the ground. She vomited blood. Her expression, locked in panic and choking breaths, was now forever etched into my mind to haunt me.

Father turned away, straightening his shirt and stepping out of the room calmly.

"No, no, no!" I cried, rushing to her side. My hands passed through her, unable to intervene. "No! Make it stop!" I pleaded with Kako. "Help her!"

"These events have played out already, Noemi," he replied with quiet finality. "We cannot change the past."

Anger coursed through me– anger and sadness, more pure than ever before. "Then why are you even showing me this?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Because I want to help you." Kako bent to meet my eyes, his presence calm. "You need to understand what he did. He wants you gone from this world because he deems you impure. Is that just? Is that fair? Is that angelic?"

The shadows shifted once more, revealing my cold body, lifeless in the chamber after the ritual. Candles still flickered and my father was standing over me, waiting. His eyes empty of concern, but full of anticipation to see if his experiment worked.

My heart hardened towards him, remembering the scene of my mother just moments ago.

"How are you going to help me?" I asked Kako.

When I looked at him, he began to transform. The monster faded, revealing the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. His body unravelled, his back straightened, and he had striking silver hair. His eyes remained the same red, but he looked…

Like an Angel.

“I will remain with you, guiding you, offering you power like never before. Just grant me access to this power, and I can help you change everything that's been wronged."

"How?" I inquired, struggling to grasp his offer.

"Give in to your anger," he instructed. "Let the sadness encompass your soul. Remember your mother." 

Images of her filled my mind. My heart twinged painfully. 

Kako continued, his voice soothing me further. "Think of Cyrus and his father—what they have endured... then simply give in to me."

“Why would you help me?” I rephrased.

“Because we are the same,” he answered quickly. “We want the same end to this game.”

Maybe the legends about Kako were wrong.

My vision was suddenly flooded by the shadows transforming, bright and blinding. I squinted. All around me was a montage– thousands of Laments over the years, dying alone or in a loved ones arms.

I felt the weight of all my emotions crash over me at once. I surrendered, letting the feelings grow hot within me. The hatred for my world purified, and I pushed down all of my doubt’s, finally giving in.

Suddenly, everything went dark again, but this time, there was peace.