Richter Lawrence Alcross

November 10, 2017. 2:45am. Fifteen minutes to three in the morning, the 'witching hour' or the 'devil's hour' as some people would call it. Most think that it's just superstition, others think it's just plain nonsense, while even less take it as fact. That supernatural events do happen at this time.

Silly? Maybe.

Frightening? To some.

Fake?

Superstition?

. . .

Absolutely not.

Demons, ghosts, gremlins and all the like are real, and are in the world, and they are a threat. They're powerful, they're fearsome, cunning, and worst of all, hungry. They feed on fear, on despair, the darkest part of the human heart that exists inside everyone. They can't be beaten by normal men, even mages struggle against them, so how does one fight against monsters? With another monster of course. A monster more fearsome, more powerful, more cunning. A monster born of man, blessed by light, destined to be a leader, but chose to suffer, to be a monster. A beast of hope.

People call him a hero, the government call him a vigilante, his fellow mages call him an abomination, and demons call him....traitor. He calls himself Cerberus, the hound of hell.

It's been four years since he was banished from Anima, his homeland, and he called Rise City his home. Seven years since his soul was merged with the arch demon, Marchosias. And it's been seven hours since his last meal, making him a little bit...whiny. "Mar, I know it's not long before demons could start appearing but I am starving!" Richter belts out to the creature hidden in in his shadow. "Please let me eat! Look, there's a food stand right there! I'll drop down, grab a sandwich, and be up here before anyone is none the wiser!" He's perched on a gargoyle a top a high rise office building, the whole city spread out before him coated in the neon lights of his city. The horizon a hazy line in the distance as large stars poke their head out the black blanket of the night.

There was no response from his shadow, but he could feel the creature within cast him a look of disapproval. "Okay, how about this? If nothing happens at three, I get a break. Deal?" His shadow stirred, still disapproving, but surrendering to the idea. "Deal it is. Now, watch as nothing happens in fifteen minutes."

November 10, 2017. 2:59am. Richter counts the seconds down as his head fills with dreams of food. He could see it already, the diner on the corner of 5th and Ignis drive, the familiar smell of hamburgers and fries filling the air, the sound of a blender making a milkshake. "Maybe if Sal is working tonight, I could get stuff from the breakfast menu! Oh I could already taste those waf--" The young mages day dream was cut short as the hair on the back of his neck bristled and a surge of some alien energy swept over the city. The creature in his shadow growled and Richter's right eye throbbed with power.

"DAMMIT!" He cried as he rose up. "I know! I know! This...whatever this is...it's not normal." Richter placed a hand before his face and a visor of gold, silver, black, covered his eyes and nose. "Let's do this" He whispered as he reached out for his mana, summoning a pair of grey metal wings upon his back, and without hesitating he leaped. Taking to the sky and towards the surge of energy, he bit his as he flew. This was nothing he's felt before, even Marchosias hadn't felt this energy.

While he lingered in his thoughts another wave, this one more violent than the first crashed into him followed by a flash of light nearly knocked him out of the sky. "By the spirits! What in the world-?!" He quickly regained his senses and balanced, quickening his flight. For once, he wishes it was a demon.