The sun was high when Noir Sullivan finally dragged himself back to the Sullivan mansion, utterly exhausted from his all-night, top-secret translation session. He collapsed into bed immediately, sleeping soundly through the better part of the day.
When he woke, the day was already fading. He found his school bag, freshly cleaned and packed, sitting neatly on his desk. He walked downstairs, where Opera, the stoic, cat-like attendant, was waiting with their usual poised silence.
NOIR: (Giving a tired but genuine smile) "Opera. Thank you. I apologize for the trouble last night. I got... detained."
OPERA: (Their voice smooth and even) "It is my duty, Young Master. However, next time, kindly inform this attendant of the location of your detention, particularly if it involves creating catastrophic, unclassified flora and receiving late-night security summons from the Student Council President."
Opera handed Noir a glass of chilled juice, their golden eyes observing him with careful intensity.
OPERA: "Chairman Sullivan is currently in a state of high anxiety, believing you have secretly run away to join a traveling circus. He is drafting legislation to outlaw large floral growths and is currently demanding a personal meeting with General Azazel."
NOIR: "Please, just tell Grandpa I'm fine. I'll make sure to be home earlier tonight."
Noir adjusted the collar of his uniform, the weight of the eight concealed wings making him feel perpetually slightly off-balance. He headed toward the door, eager to escape the house before Sullivan could intercept him, but Opera's voice stopped him short.
Opera stood perfectly still, their tail giving a single, slow, deliberate flick.
OPERA: "Young Master. A simple question, which requires a truthful answer."
NOIR: "Yes, Opera?"
Opera walked closer, their gaze piercing, bypassing the mask of the transformed demon and looking straight into the weary soul of the human boy.
OPERA: "Do you, now that you have a taste of this world, still wish to return to the Human Realm?"
The question struck Noir like a physical blow. It was the fundamental premise of his time in the Netherworld: he was here because his parents sold him, and his ultimate goal was to survive long enough to find a way back home, back to Earth.
He opened his mouth, ready to give the easy, expected answer—Yes, of course, I want to go home.
NOIR: "I... I do."
But the word caught in his throat. He didn't say it. Instead, a cascade of mental images—a stark comparison between the two lives—flooded his mind, forcing him to pause.
He stood there, silent, his amber eyes distant as he mentally compared the life he had fled to the life he was currently fighting to hide.
The Demon World (The Lie): Here, he had a Warm Home in a sprawling, absurdly luxurious mansion. He enjoyed regular, lavish meals and never experienced true hunger. He had an overly-doting, emotional, and intensely supportive grandfather (Sullivan) and a fiercely protective guardian (Opera). He had fiercely loyal companions (Alice and Clara) who genuinely cared about him. He was surrounded by immensely powerful beings who, despite their strange habits, ensured his physical safety. He was viewed as a magnificent, though mysterious, figure; a Rank Aleph "wonder."
The Human World (The Truth): There, he was subjected to Neglect by an uncaring mother and father who saw him as disposable property. He was forced to sleep outside and was constantly starving, living life in the Wild. He was consistently taken advantage of by family and "friends," used for cheap labor or monetary gain. He had lived in constant fear, lacking any form of power or security, and was viewed as worthless and easily dismissed.
The comparison was utterly damning. In the Human World, he had been a starving, abused, and powerless boy. In the Demon World, despite the constant terror of exposure and the stress of pretending to be a demonic archbeing, he had something resembling stability and, critically, love.
He looked down at his right hand, the Ring of Solomon glowing faintly beneath the band of gold. This world was dangerous because of who they thought he was, but the human world was dangerous because of who he actually was: nothing.
The overwhelming realization settled on him. He didn't actually miss the Human World. He missed the idea of safety and normalcy, but he had found more of both here, in the chaotic heart of the Netherworld, than he had ever known on Earth.
He looked up at Opera, unable to give the simple answer he had intended.
NOIR: (His voice quiet, filled with deep confusion) "I... I don't know, Opera. I truly have no idea what I want."
Opera nodded slowly, their expression unreadable. The question had been answered not by words, but by the profound hesitation.
OPERA: "Very well, Young Master. Please proceed to school. And try to avoid creating any more geological anomalies today."
Noir left the mansion, carrying the immense weight of the truth. His primary objective had vanished, replaced by a complex, unsettling question: If home wasn't where he came from, then where was he going?