Honchkrow flapped its wings. A strong burst, carried by the gale beneath, propelled him upward smoothly. With each wingbeat, Gladion could feel his heart sink into his stomach with the shift in altitude. But it didn’t bother him. The rise was smooth, and any discomfort was only temporary. The euphoria of ascension alone made it worth it. In a matter of seconds he had already passed Vergil, and he watched as rung after rung of ladder disappeared beneath him. Gladion almost laughed.

And then he stopped. Honchkrow squawked, and Gladion glanced up. A demon encased in an obsidian shell gripped its wing. Gladion stared into its hollow eyes.

“Um,” said Gladion. “Who are you supposed to be, exactly?”

“I’m just security,” the demon said. “Sorry about this, kid.”

The demon gave a light chop to Gladion’s head and sent him immediately hurtling down the shaft. By sheer luck, Gladion was able to take hold of a ladder rung, right above where Vergil was clinging to the wall.

“Oh, him again,” said Vergil.

“You know him?”

“That is the Secretary of Homeland Security. Garou. And he has Hell to p—”

- Ragnarust Round 3