The train had to come to a stop because there had been another suicide on the train, leaving passengers who were on their way to work or their homes stranded. They walked out of the station and began looking for alternative modes of transportation.

It wasn’t unusual for people in Japan to jump from moving trains; in fact, the practice is now so widespread that it’s impossible to find a train conductor or engineer who hasn’t come across a suicide jumper. Some stations have even started installing barriers and other safeguards to stop people from jumping off the platform.

The cleaners have arrived and are donning overalls that are the signature uniform of their cleaning company. The overalls are a navy blue color. Their faces are concealed by masks, and as they approach the windows and platform, they bring white cloths and buckets filled with cleaning solutions with them. Even though there is a strong whiff of bleach in the air, the faint odor of iron that is left behind by the smeared flesh and blood that is coated on the rails is still detectable.

Even if a person drinks hard liquor until they pass out, they won’t be able to forget the sight of the bodies being mutilated at work; it’s an unpleasant experience that leaves permanent mental scars. The vast majority of workers will never forget it for the rest of their lives. The stench of rotting flesh and blood was nauseating, but the workers were accustomed to it by this point. 

“Yasuda-san, something’s wrong... take a look, look at the blood...”

“Mm?” Yasuda responded, not looking up from his work on the floor. “What are you talking about, Kimura? It’s already your fifth job here... you’re still not used to it?” 

Kimura stared wide-eyed at the blood on the ground. “Something’s wrong... l-look at the blood, Yasuda-san... it appears like they’re moving... on their own...”

Yasuda took a closer look to see what Kimura saw and found his words confirmed as he noticed the blood flowing in a different direction, away from the direction where the water was flowing from their hose.

Your body has been completely annihilated by the train. Your body is left torn and battered to pieces. But there is no need to worry because I will assist you. I have the ability to re-integrate your perfectly preserved soul into your shattered body, forging your flesh and bones back together.

The cleaners’ faces turn pale as they see the blood congealing and moving on the ground moving towards a single direction as if controlled by an invisible force. Their eyes track the blood as it moves across the ground, creating a pattern that is not visible to the naked eye. They can feel the tension in the air, and as it does, the hair on their necks stands on end while a shiver travels through their bodies. They have the same terrified expression on their faces as they try to make sense of what they sense to be a sinister presence in the rail tracks.

As they hurriedly made their way toward the nearest exit, fear and desperation could be seen written all over their faces. Their breaths were heavy and their eyes wide with terror, their bodies trembling as they felt an unseen force drawing them back towards the rail tracks. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, without so much as a glance back over their shoulders, for the simple reason that they knew they needed to get away from this place as quickly as they could. 

The merging of the pieces of George’s body seemed to almost take on a life of its own. The pool of blood slowly shifted and moved around in an ethereal dance as it began to merge and transform into the flesh that was forming. The blood turned into a vibrant red, gradually transitioning into a warm, brownish color as it became muscle. In the center of this bizarre transformation was the still-beating heart, a steady drumbeat that marked the beginning of George’s rebirth.

George’s remaining corpse parts dissolve into a dark red mist that swirls and eddies in the air, drawn towards the fresh heart. The mist moves like a serpent, slowly engulfing each of the parts until they melt into its center. It almost looks like a vortex as it swirls around the heart, gently moving as if it is alive and breathing.

It began to morph and shape into the skeletal structure, first the bones of his spine, then the ribs, arms, and legs until they were unmistakably covered in a thin layer of flesh. His internal organs gradually fell into place, like cogs in a machine, weaving together in a complex pattern of tissue, veins, and vessels that seemed to pulse in unison with the beating heart. The transformation was mesmerizing as if a living sculpture was being created before their eyes.

He felt a strange, burning sensation across his stomach and his lungs expanded as he took in a deep breath. He looked down to find himself clad in a strange metal armor that was attached to the bottom half of his suit, encasing him in a shell of protection. The armor glinted in the light, reflecting off its blood-red surface like a mirror as its edges seemed to ripple and move like waves.

“I’m alive... no way,”

Enjoying your new body?

The voice had a raspy, guttural quality, like a stone grinding against another, deep and almost menacing. It seemed to shake the foundations of the room and echoed off the walls like thunder. The sound was deep and reverberated throughout the area, becoming almost oppressive in its intensity and volume.

George’s breathing becomes shallow as he scans the area, his footfalls echoing off the walls in a tense atmosphere. He hears the distant hum of machines in the background and muffled voices coming from other train stations, but nothing living moves around him. He cannot make out any discernible shapes within the shadows, just a feeling of being watched. He takes a deep breath and continues his search until he realizes he cannot find the cat-headed monster anywhere.

“Where are you, cat monster!?” George shouted while rotating his body to check where the cat-headed monster was.

It’s Baal, brat. Prepare yourself. An Archdemon is nearby. It’s headed in our direction.