It was a foggy dusk, the sky painted with streaks of dying light as the three demons gathered at the abandoned train yard—a perfect place to practice soul-hunting. The air was thick with tension, and Jarvis, as usual, was already swinging her sickle with that maddened grin stretched across her face. Jaceon leaned against a broken-down carriage, eyes bored but watchful. Zyren stood a little apart, gripping his dagger but trembling slightly.
As always, Jarvis noticed.
"Zyren," she called, tossing a knife into the air and catching it without looking, "You gonna cry again, or are you actually going to hunt this time?"
Zyren forced a smile. "I'll hunt."
But just before they began, Zyren closed his eyes, barely audible, muttering under his breath:
"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…"
Jarvis froze.
Jaceon's head snapped toward him, narrowing his eyes.
The silence sliced through the air.
"…What did you just say?" Jarvis asked, turning around slowly.
Zyren's face went pale.
"Nothing," he stammered. "Just a… a focus mantra."
Jarvis walked toward him with a cold smile, her heels clicking sharply on the gravel.
"No, no. I heard it right. You said Our Father who art in Heaven." She chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. "Wow. Wow."
Zyren swallowed hard. Jaceon didn't interfere this time—he stood still, arms folded, just watching.
Jarvis came up close, close enough for Zyren to see the glowing red glint in her eyes.
"You ever met a demon who went to Heaven, Zyren?" she asked quietly. "Hm? You know any?"
Zyren said nothing.
"No?" she hissed. "Of course not. Not even Lucifer himself got to stay. He was an angel once, remember? High-rank, too. And they still cast him out like rotten meat. You think your little puppy prayers are gonna get you through the gates?"
She let out a laugh, loud and cruel.
"They saw evil in him before he even became the devil. What do you think they'll see in you, coward?"
Zyren's lips trembled. "I'm not trying to go to Heaven. I just… I want peace. I don't want to keep doing this."
Jarvis slapped him—not too hard, but enough to knock his head to the side.
"Then you should've stayed in Hell and rotted," she spat. "You're on Earth now. You have a job. Take souls. Corrupt. Destroy. That's what we are."
She turned away with a huff, then looked over her shoulder and smirked darkly. "But thanks for the entertainment. A demon who prays? That's going straight into my comedy vault."
As she returned to training, Zyren stood frozen, shame burning in his chest like fire. Jaceon glanced at him—no sympathy in his eyes, but no mockery either. Just a warning stare.
Zyren wiped his face and clenched his fists.
Maybe he was the joke of the underworld.
But he still wasn't going to stop praying.
He just had to get better at hiding it.