A lot of things had changed around Hell in the past few months. For starters, something of a moral panic had arisen, given the sudden appearance of a Devil back in June. Once the subjects of old legends and fairy tales, people all across the continent of Aporue were shocked and appalled to learn that the quaint town of Brimstone had come under attack from this ancient threat, and since then, people began to fear for the lives of their friends and family, despite reassurances from the city state's government that there was nothing to fear.

Mistrust in the government had become an issue as well, once it came to light that this wasn't the first time an attack had occurred, for back in 1994, Brimstone had come under fire from that very same Devil, and the incident had been covered up to save face. It was an incident known as the Damned Defence, where an all-powerful demon from antiquity was beaten back by a ragtag group of school students lead by an intrepid Incubus.

Brass Trayer. Once the lid was blown on the whole Damned Defence issue, interest in that man skyrocketed. People came to Brimstone from all over the continent to learn about who he was and what happened to him, which apparently stressed the tourism board out to no end. How were they supposed to teach people about this man safely when barely anything was known about him, and what little information they had didn't exactly paint them or their town in a positive light?

Not to be deterred, a lot of these tourists wound up trying to learn about him from his wife, Jezebel. Tabloids wanted to delve into their relationship, history podcasts wanted her to divulge inside information about the Devil attack, and small-time TV shows wanted exclusive interviews with her. Of course, as the retired actress was no stranger to the paparazzi, she managed to give them the slip time and time again.

So they turned their attention to her six children.

Namely one in particular; the very man that ended the Devil Diate's reign of terror all those weeks ago.

"N- Not to be rude, but is it possible you could go any faster?" Cobalt Trayer said nervously from the back of the taxi, gripping his seat tight as he glanced out the window.

He knew he should have kept his head down once he got back to Brimstone. Since returning from his training course in London, he had been hounded non-stop by the press. Reporters were hurriedly trying to catch up to his taxi along the the footpaths, while no small number of cars had been following him ever since he left the Jump Terminal.

"Believe me, lad, I'm trying!" the taxi driver responded, stepping on the accelerator.

They turned a sharp corner, causing Cobalt to whack one of his long, yellow horns off the window.

"Ow!" he gasped, running a hand through his navy hair.

"You alright back there?"

"I'm fine, just keep going!"

To be fair, this was probably his fault. Since baffling the medical staff after the incident and discharging himself in the middle of the night, Cobalt had become something of a sensation in Brimstone. Indeed, that was why he deigned to return to Earth; partially to brush up on his teaching skills, but mainly to get away from all the hubbub.

He thought all the excitement would die down by now. Evidently he was wrong.

"Oh, I forgot to ask you, lad! How are you faring?" the driver asked, glancing at him through the mirror.

Instinctively, Cobalt placed a hand over his stomach. In the ensuing weeks after Diate's attack - the Damned Offence, some had taken to calling it - he had been struggling with the grievous wound the Devil had given him. Though it had long since stopped hurting, he still felt uneasy whenever he looked down at the scar left on his abdomen. A through-and-through puncture wound left by a spear. One he shouldn't have survived.

"I'm, um... coping. Everything has stopped hurting, at least," he sighed.

"That's good to hear. One more thing; sorry for mistaking you for a kid last year. I had no idea."

"Don't worry about it! I'm used to it at this stage."

Everlast Syndrome; a medical condition exclusive to demons that caused their body to cease developing in the first or second stage, causing them to look younger than they actually were. Very few people suffered from it, and as far as Cobalt was aware, he was the only Incubus in recorded history to ever be struck with the mysterious condition.

His friendly smile faded as he looked down at his hands. His skin was an iridescent blue; almost flawless, save for the heavy scarring around his knuckles, making them appear like those of a seasoned fighter's.

Indeed, he was something of a medical mystery...

The car lurched as they drove over a speed bump, snapping Cobalt out of his little reverie. Glancing out the window, he saw that the cars tailing them hadn't let up.

"We're coming up on the school now," the taxi driver alerted him, pointing out the windshield.

Sure enough, they were driving alongside the high stone walls of the Brimstone Institute of Demonics. The site of the Damned Offence, and Cobalt's destination.

"You'll probably be free of that lot once you get inside," said the driver, jabbing a thumb at their pursuers.

"I certainly hope so..."

Once they reached the top of the hill that the academy was situated upon, the taxi pulled into the parking area just outside the main gates. Strangely, it was mostly empty; Cobalt was expecting it to be filled with people seeing off their kids for the beginning of the new school year.

But more than that, he was hoping for a crowd to lose himself in.

"Oh dear..." Cobalt murmured as the vehicle came to a stop.

The taxi driver laughed.

"Aye, I'll keep my farewells brief then, lad. Good luck to you."

Thanking him, Cobalt hurried passed him the fare before grabbing his bags and toppling out into the parking area. As soon as the Incubus stepped foot outside, the other cars slammed on the brakes and threw open their doors as all manner of press and paparazzi surged forward to greet him.

"Mr. Trayer! Anything to say about the Damned Offence?!"

"Over here! How long have you known about the deeds of Brass Trayer?!"

"Cobalt! Your fans want to know where you've been these last few months!"

He paused for a moment. He had fans?

No, now was not the time to be thinking about that! As the taxi peeled off, Cobalt hauled his luggage beneath his arms and booked it for the school's entrance, a massive set of imposing wrought iron gates. Blanching as the reporters kept pace, he put his head down and sprinted as fast as he could. Up ahead, he saw a large figure step into view, beckoning for the Incubus to hurry up.

"In here, squirt!" he roared.

Swallowing hard, Cobalt threw himself through the gates with his small batlike wings spread wide, only to wind up tripping over his own spaded tail and clattering ungraciously to the gravelly ground. Grunting in amusement, the man grabbed the massive iron gates and slammed them shut with a resounding clang, halting the paparazzi in their tracks.

"I suggest you all fuck off if you know what's good for you! Students and staff only, you get it?!" he bellowed planting his hands on his hips.

Wincing as he dusted his shirt off, Cobalt stumbled back to his feet and look up at his saviour.

He was a tall, muscular man, dressed in a shirt and slacks, much like himself. His skin was orange in colour, and through the tangled mess of fiery red hair atop his head, a crimson horn jutted from the centre of his forehead.

He was an Oni, a demon of Wrath. More specifically, he was Ethan Zespire, Cobalt's colleague.

As the swarm of reporters begrudgingly dispersed, a green-skinned hand reached up from behind Cobalt and started swiping away the gravel still stuck to his clothes.

"Seems you've garnered quite the popularity boost, Mr. Trayer," chuckled a friendly voice.

The Incubus gave an exasperated smile and looked down at the shorter, fatter man next to him. His skin was apple green, and the horns upon his head were short and rounded. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he gave Cobalt a thumbs up and wagged the stumpy tail behind him.

"I suppose I have," the Incubus sighed, watching as the last few stragglers were chased off by Mr. Zespire.

"We had a feeling something like this would happen. You've been the talk of the town for the past couple of months," George Hersh remarked, folding his arms.

Cobalt grimaced. If there was one thing he didn't enjoy, it was being the subject of gossip. He had enough of that growing up as an Incubus and he wasn't willing to go through any more.

"Ah... right..."

"A- All good things, I assure you! Your popularity has skyrocketed, heh!" Mr. Hersh added, noticing his colleague's unease.

Clearing his throat nervously, he gestured to Cobalt's luggage.

"Well, same fare as last year; give us your bags and we'll make sure they get to the right room," he called, signalling his companion with a snap of his fingers.

Thanking them, the Incubus handed his luggage to Mr. Zespire before looking around at the conspicuously empty campus.

"Oh, I'm not late this year too, am I?" he groaned.

"Erm... well..." the Glutton began, shuffling his feet.

"Not as late, I guess. The orientation speech is still going on thataways," the Oni interjected, hauling Cobalt's bags beneath one mighty arm as he pointed in the direction of the gymnasium.

He sighed and thanked them both again.

"Alright, I better not waste any more time. Thank you!"

Waving, he hurriedly set off down the gravel path towards the gymnasium.

Once again, late on his first day...

 

-----

 

Upon reaching the doors of the gymnasium, Cobalt took a moment to gather himself before he stepped inside. He could hear the sound of an amplified voice speaking from within, so evidently the speech was still going on. That was good; if he could slip inside, hopefully he could get up front to his seat without drawing too much attention to himself.

Taking a deep breath, the Incubus eased the door open.

"But apparently whatever I have to say isn't important enough for this particular latecomer. Go on then; step inside where we can all see you, seeing as you're so important," boomed a cutting voice, freezing the Incubus' blood solid.

Halted in his tracks, the doors continued to creak open, revealing Cobalt to all who resided within.

An innumerable amount of chairs had been set up within the vast sports hall, each facing the stage at the far end, where a tall woman was standing at a microphone. Upon each chair sat a student; one of the many multicoloured denizens of Hell awaiting their new year at the Brimstone Institute of Demonics. Golems lazed in their seats while Nymphs sat upright, buzzing with anticipation. Imps struggled to see over the taller Fallen and Oni, while many Gluttons were snacking on sweets they had hidden up their sleeves. The majority of the Succubi, however, weren't focused on the speech that the Headmistress was giving up front, instead preferring to size up their peers. But the moment attention was drawn to Cobalt, everyone turned to stare at him.

He blanched. He could hear them whispering already.

"- really him? Thought he'd be taller..."

"- get your phone! It's him, get a-!"

"-lly kill a Devil? Doesn't look like he-"

Up at the head of the hall, the woman at the microphone pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply.

She was tall and angular, dressed in a sharp black suit with a matching floor-length cloak with grey epaulettes. Her black hair was tied back into a sharp bun, and her skin was purple in colour. Much like Cobalt, she had long yellow horns, as well as a pair of wings and a spaded tail. A Succubus, the more populous female counterpart to the Incubus.

And his employer, Mistress Viola Terna, the principal of the Brimstone Institute of Demonics.

"... I should have known you'd cause havoc on your first day, boy," she sighed, looking back over at him.

"I, um-" Cobalt began, only to be cut off by a wave from the headmistress.

"Just get to your seat before you interrupt proceedings any further."

"... yes miss."

Cheeks burning with shame, the Incubus stared hard at the floorboards as he trudged up through the centre aisle. He could feel the stares of the students burrow into him, but he did not dare to meet any of their eyes. Reaching the front row, he nervously shuffled across until he found an empty seat between two other staff members.

"As I was saying, it's about time I told you about our school's proud history," spoke the imposing woman, her cloak sweeping behind her as she paced with the microphone held in one hand.

She glared at Cobalt with steely-blue eyes that could paralyse even the most infuriated of Oni.

"The Brimstone Institute of Demonics has been responsible for many advancements in the field of magic over the years, contributing to the development of spells that many use on a regular basis. It is also one of the only schools in all of Hell to offer Applied Demonics classes, where three times a week, you will be trained to hone your magical skills and abilities," she continued, sweeping her gaze across the students.

Looking back, Cobalt could see more than a few of them go pale.

"Don't be fooled into thinking that this will be some kind of cakewalk. Here at B.I.D., we pride ourselves in the quality of our graduates, and if any one of you do anything to sully our school's good name, there will be more than Hell to pay."

She leaned forward for a moment to emphasise her threat, only to then sigh and relax somewhat.

"But as the adage goes, more flies with honey. I'm not about to try and drive you off with harsh words. In fact, I think the best account of our fine school should come from someone who is still getting to grips with it. Someone as fresh-faced as you are."

Snapping her fingers, she pointed at Cobalt, startling him.

"Wha- me?!" he cried.

"Yes, you. Get on stage, Mr. Trayer."

"But-!"

"Don't make me repeat myself, boy."

Jolted out his his seat by a combination of muscle memory and self-preservation, Cobalt shakily climbed the steps to the stage and reached for the microphone in Mistress Viola's hands. Before he could take it, however, she leaned in close.

"You told me you had the stones to stick with this job. Now's your chance to prove that to me," she whispered, stepping away before he could respond.

Unnerved by her words, Cobalt toddled up to the stand at the front of the stage and nervously reattached the mic. Taking a moment to adjust it, he leaned in and began to speak.

"Hello ev-"

The speakers gave an almighty screech, causing everyone in the gymnasium to wince and groan. A few Nymphs clutched their sensitive ears.

"S- Sorry. I, um... didn't mean to be so late, and... I- I wasn't really expecting to have to give a speech, so..." he mumbled into the mic, glancing over at Viola.

She just glared back at him, causing him to swallow audibly.

"M- My name is Cobalt Trayer,-"

"We know!" someone yelled from the audience, causing many of the students to laugh.

He stared at his feet and exhaled sharply. His legs were shaking and his tail was thrashing nervously behind him.

"W- Well, for those that don't, my name is Cobalt Trayer. I teach Language, Science and History, and I'm the core teacher for Class 2-F. U- Um, 3-F, that is. Sorry..."

Hundreds of eyes bored into him. Viola looked disappointed. This was going horribly.

"Th- That used to be me. You know, down there. With you. In the chairs. Scared. Terrified, even. Just like now..." continued the Incubus, trailing off.

He tugged as his collar as his entire body began to sweat. Down on the gymnasium floor, students turned to their friends and began to talk to one another, bored of Cobalt's speech.

"I was, um... hello? C- Could you all please settle down...?"

They didn't listen. Instead, the clamour grew louder as they talked, whispered and laughed over his voice. A few new students were grinning and pointing, and many more were holding their phone cameras up. In the front row, many of Cobalt's colleagues were looking away with shamed eyes, while over to the side, Viola was once again holding her head in her hands.

This was just what he feared. Barely his first day back on the job, and he was being ridiculed...! Sweet Hellfire, was Viola right? Was he really not cut out for this?

He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

No.

No, he couldn't let this happen. Not now! He was not going to fall at the finish line.

Growing angry with himself, a painfully familiar ball of frustration made itself known in the pit of Cobalt's stomach, urging him to lift his head and grab the microphone stand.

"Excuse me, I'm speaking!" the Incubus suddenly spoke in a clear voice, booming over the voices of the students.

They all gazed back at him, startled.

Good.

"This is only my second year teaching here, but in that time, I came to learn something about this school that I never even noticed as a kid."

Deep down, the smouldering ball of irritation sparked. Cobalt took a deep breath, steeled by the heat rising through his body.

"This place is a wellspring of potential. Academic growth, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean personal, intimate growth. The kind that makes you stare at yourself in the mirror for hours and wonder where you're going with your life," he continued, his voice growing stronger as his brow furrowed.

Most of them had stopped talking now, and were staring up at the Incubus as he held the microphone in both hands.

"I won't lie; it's going to be tough. Very, very tough. Most of you are probably going to wonder why you ever enrolled here at least once at some point throughout the three years you'll be attending this school. Deadlines are going to needle at you, your teachers' expectations are going to crush you, and your exams are going to break you. There's no easy way of saying that."

Deep down, the fire grew brighter, and Cobalt couldn't fathom why. He was just getting caught up in the moment.

"But you're not alone. Look around at those in the chairs to the left and right of you. They are your peers, and they are going to suffer through the same gauntlet as you. Some will run ahead while others stumble, but it is the responsibility of the strong to lend guidance to the weak. And when everyone bands together, then no-one is weak at all. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

The students all glanced at one another, confused.

"What I am saying is that you cannot do this alone. When you are struggling, it can seem easy to keep your suffering to yourself, but believe me, while reaching out is difficult, it is always worth it. Your friends are here to support you through these next few years, and even failing that, myself and my colleagues are always on standby. Because I know that the peace and happiness of this school is something worth striving for."

His abdomen ached.

"Something worth fighting for. Tooth and nail," he added, gritting his teeth.

Feeling the fires of determination blaze within him, Cobalt gave the crowd a resolute stare.

"So promise me this! You will do your utmost to improve yourself and those around you, and in return I promise to support each and every one of you that seeks help from me! Because that's my duty as a teacher, just as it is your duty as a student to strive for the best version of yourself! Do you promise?!"

He was answered by a sea of bulging eyes and gaping mouths.

"I asked you all a question! Do you promise?!" he repeated, undeterred by their silence.

"Y- Yeah...!" came a few scattered responses.

"Not good enough!"

"Yes!" they cried, louder.

"I expect better! Do you all promise?!"

"YES WE PROMISE!" the student roared in unison, rattling the windowpanes high up on the walls.

Amped up by Cobalt's sudden surge of confidence, the crowd burst out into a spontaneous fit of cheering as the students raised the hands and yelled at the top of their lungs. Grinning at their vigour, he leaned into the microphone.

"Okay! Tooth and nail; remember that!" he gasped, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

As quickly as his newfound strength reared its head, it ebbed from his body, weakening the Incubus' legs and causing him to almost topple over. Stepping in to take over, Viola put a hand on his shoulder and gave him an intense look.

It was not disappointment or anger in her eyes, however. She looked... mildly impressed.

"Alright, alright, settle down, all of you. While Mr. Trayer's rigour is appreciated, I still expect you all to adhere to basic etiquette..." she said, into the mic, discretely gesturing for Cobalt to leave the stage.

Nodding, he sloped off to the stairs and returned to his seat, the energy completely draining from his body as soon as he sat down.

He smiled until the burning sensation in his stomach died away, whereupon his face fell and his brief elation was replaced by a sense of dread.

It happened again.

A sense of anger, frustration or irritation that forms in the pit of his stomach, snowballing until it became almost impossible to supress. But he had to keep it contained, because the last time Cobalt lost control of this newfound sense of power...

... he ripped a man's head off.

He knew it wasn't anger or frustration or irritation. It was exacerbated by them, perhaps, but in reality, it was something much more terrifying. Something much darker and more primal.

It was hunger, plain and simple. A hunger that terrified Cobalt to the marrow of his bones. That day, beneath the churning sky atop the roof of the school, he let his instincts take over for a few horrifying minutes. The people spoke of the Damned Offence like it was some great display of heroism, but it was anything but.

He ripped that Devil apart. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, Cobalt could still hear the cracking of bone, or feel the ripping of flesh, or taste the-

The Incubus suddenly lurched forward in his seat, clutching a hand to his stomach. He felt sick.

Making his excuses, he stood up and made his way to the exit, quietly apologising beneath his breath as he passed by the rows of students. Reaching the doors, he toppled outside and gasped for breath, hoping that the cool morning air would be enough to settle his stomach and calm him down.

"Get it together, Trayer... Get it together..." he guttered, leaning against the wall as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He had to get a hold of himself. He wasn't some new hireling anymore; he was an established teacher at B.I.D., with an entire year of trial and tribulation already under his belt!

As he murmured to himself, the hairs on the back of Cobalt's neck suddenly prickled.

He was being watched.

Looking around frantically, the Incubus found himself standing alone in front of the gymnasium, but upon looking down, he spotting something gazing at him. A black cat sat calmly just a few feet away, staring intently at him.

"You," he breathed, turning to the feline.

It didn't respond.

"I thought I'd seen the last of you."

Hunkering down, Cobalt looked the cat right in the eyes. It didn't flinch or run away; it just sat there, staring at him and idly flicking its tail.

"Tell me; is this year going to be any easier? B- Because I don't think I'll be able to handle another crisis at this rate," he asked in a hushed tone.

Slowly, the cat blinked its eyes.

It then hissed at him, turned around and walked away.

Blinking a couple of times, Cobalt watched as the cat ambled off in the direction of the main campus.

That... was just a stray. Hanging his head, he took a deep breath and smiled despite himself.

"Okay... okay!"

Rising to his feet, the Incubus lightly slapped his face before planting his hands on his hips.

"It's a new year, Trayer; time to show them what you've got!"