[b]Damien begins to slip away into darkness at the same rim as Lance as the tunnels folds away behind him and pulls him away. He sat there... Suspended quietly as he looked around. Theories and scientific hypothesis could only get him so far. He was breaking new ground every second.[/b]

[i] The darkness around Damien shifted, until he was standing inside a house. Hardwood floors and high vaulted ceilings along with chandeliers and artwork all over the walls made for a nice setting. If flames weren't licking at the walls and smoke was curling from the floor. A boy stood at the bottom of a staircase, no older than maybe eight, with soft blue eyes and short brown hair. He wore a white t-shirt and shorts, his face fixed with a look of horror. If Damien followed his gaze, across the large living room was a tall man dressed in all white, from his shirt to his shoes. Black hair topped his head, and a sneer was stamped on his square face and jaw. He held a familiar all black katana, that was buried in the chest of a man that lay on the floor. The man's skin was ashen and his hair was and face were dusted with ash from the fire around them, but the man on the ground managed to lift his head and yell two words, before the katana was jerked up and cut through his chest even farther. [/i] "Go, Lance!" [i] He choked out, before being eviscerated and lay still. The boy at the bottom of the stairs ran forward, out the front door with a slam. The strangest thing about the murderer though, for all the blood, ash, and smoke around, his outfit stayed spotless. He didn't seem to chase the boy, instead flicking the blood off the katana and spattering it across the corpses face, simply walking towards the door.[/i]

[b]It was times like this... Damien could use a smoke... A Cuban Cigar, 1845...[/b] [b]He followed after the boy, not willing to tempt fate by following the bigger man... If he suddenly sensed Damien's presence... He'd have chaos on his hands... Besides, he needed to follow what he assumed was a younger Lance... He was the more important piece of the puzzle.[/b]

[i] He found Lance standing across the street, staring at what was once an impressive but simple house, now going up in flames. Pieces of the roof collapsing, Windows shattering, etc. The boy stood, silent tears falling from his face and leaving tracks in the ash and smoke that covered his face, his fists balled at his sides. If Damien was any kind of judge of character, he could see the definitive look in the boy's eye, even clouded by tears. A look of vengeance and sorrow, born then and there as he looked upon his burning home. [/i]

[b]Damien blinked slowly and rubbed his metal jaw... He knew the look all to well... It was what he felt when he was younger. Lance wasn't much different than him in that regard... But such passion at a young age was nothin but cruel. No one should have to experience such pain.[/b] [b]But he knew there was nothing that could be done... There was only the past to remember.[/b]

[i] The scene shifted, into a dark warehouse. Lance had just walked in the door across the room, a knife falling from his hand as it clattered to the floor. In a pool of blood. Closer inspection would show that the walls and floor were decorated with the Crimson liquid, and the source seemed to be.. Humans. Teenagers that were hanging from chains. Two boys, and three girls with their skin hanging off them in strips, their faces unrecognizable from all the blood on them. One of the boys, the only one Alive, lifts his head and utters one word to Lance. Too far across the room for Damien to hear, but it sparks Lance to run to the door, slipping in blood on the way. [/i]

[b]Damien narrowed his eyes at the mess, avoiding blood as best he could. It wasn't real... But it still felt wrong to touch it.[/b] [i]"Jesus..."[/i] [b]He mumbles as he turns to Lance.[/b]

[i] Outside the door and into an alleyway, Lance was vomiting up bile. Once he seemed like he'd emptied his stomach, he sat down, back sliding down the brick alley wall and screaming to the heavens at the top of his lungs. [/i] "Why, why, why?!" [i] He screamed between choked sobs, before a voice spoke up. [/i] "Why, you ask? Well, your answer is right here." [i] Standing a few feet away from Lance was the same man Damien had seen in the previous memory, albeit a few years older. Still dressed in white, still spotless. The man looked like he was about to speak, but the scene shifted once again. [/i]

[b]Damien's eyes shift to a fading purple, rubbing them slightly as he felt weariness draw upon him. Brutality, along with his current input of power into Lance made him tired. But he knew he had to be strong... To continue this mind numbing torture...[/b]

[i]The next scene, there was a joyous occasion, Lance was an adult, standing in a hospital room next to a beautiful woman on a hospital bed, a nurse pulling a baby boy from the woman and holding him in her arms while Lance leaned and kissed the woman, his hand in hers. The happiness didn't last long. Things go awry, the woman on the bed starts to convulse, monitors and machines start to beep and screech, until the woman lies still, her eyes blank. The void that was within Lance, what had seemingly been repressed, seemed to swallow him up with a sense of finality and dread, a feeling of never being able to recover. That memory flowed seamlessly to one of a tearful Lance, full of anguish. He was standing in an area that was pitch black, but light shined on two figures, a table with a piece of paper and a pen. Lance seemed to be talking to this extraordinary figure, like he was making a deal with him. The man was dressed in a sharp suit, but the amazing thing was his body. It was like he was made out of stars, galaxies, and stardust. The contract theory was only supported by Lance bending over and signing his name on the piece of paper, probably a contract, with the celestial being shaking his head like Lance didn't know what he was getting himself into. [/i] https://imgur.com/a/iGjnc

[i]"Okay... Lance knows great big people... I'm gonna have to find some more important friends..."[/i] [b]He remarks with a sarcastic bite, as he runs a hand through his hair.[/b] [b]For a moment, Damien just stood there... Quiet... Pondering something before a few simple words passed his lips.[/b] [i]"Annibelle is in good hands..."[/i] [b]Damien sighed and rubbed his shoulder to relax himself. He felt certain... He knew that Lance was the best one to handle this...[/b]

[i] Lance speaks up beside him, the memory fading and returning back to wherever they were.[/i] "Like I said, I hope you like horror movies."

[i]"More like uncensored documentary, but equally as shitty... I'm certain that's all broken down your mind to an extent... But not your body... That means we start with the head."[/i] [b]Damien shrugs and walks down the looming tunnel quietly, hands falling into the pockets of his jeans. He was still shirtless... But his skin had taken on a pale tone as if he had grown sick.[/b]

"You doing okay?" [i] Lance says, walking beside him. He didn't wanna harm Damien if that's what it took, no matter how much he wanted these seals. [/i]

[i]"Loosing energy quickly. Should have brought imaginary orange slices and vitamin water."[/i] [b]He jokes, not turning to Lance as he walked.[/b] [b]The tunnel eventually drifted off into a massive black area... A small light at the end.[/b] [i]"It's one of mine... Looks like we can go around it."[/i]

"You lead the way man. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you get your oranges." [i] Lance says with a nervous laugh, walking with Damien. [/i]

[i]"Well... Faster through the memory... But less you have to see."[/i] [b]Damien remarks, slowing down until he comes to a complete stop.[/b] [i]"Besides, I'm useless until we get to where we need to be."[/i]

"Uh huh.." [i]Lance says, running a hand through his air and shaking it out.[/i] "Any way I can help, so we don't have to go around our ass to get to our elbows? Or are we just kinda gonna wander and hope we're headed in the right direction?

[i]"Well... Think of it like this... We can't walk in the wrong direction, but we can take painful short cuts. It's like a maze you can't fail, with horrible visions... Just so happens we've come to one such shortcut... It's up to you..."[/i] [b]Damien folds his arms and looks up at the darkness above, the tunnel long since disappeared into this large black room with that same familiar white light...[/b]

"Let's go." [i] He says, running a hand through his hair with a sigh, walking first in front of Damien. [/i]

[i]"Go...? We are actually doing this...? There's a fifty percent chance this will be a bad memory."[/i] [b]Damien rubs his neck, pressure escaping it in waves as he releases the tension building in his augs. He was smart that way... You can't massage or loosen the finer muscles... So Damien built his with pressure releases... To relax the joints and pain.[/b] [i]"Guess I can't stop you either way..."[/i]

"Nope, not if you tried." [i] He says, gesturing him to follow over his back.[/i]

[i]"Flipping coins sucks ass."[/i] [b]He remarks, pacing after Lance as the light in the distance began to untangle and unfold around them into a bright display, Damien's footsteps suddenly stopping behind Lance as he seemingly melds into the world being created on the other side.[/b]

"Might as well flip a coin to see whether this is gonna be good or bad." [i] Lance mutters to himself, plucking a midnight black coin from the air. On one side, a yin-yang symbol. The other side, a Japanese pagoda. Lance flips the coin, letting it fall to the floor of whatever darkness he was in, and the coin landed perfectly even on its side.[/i] "Seriously?"

[b]The white light began to peel back until a large wooden structure took shape. Hundreds of people were seated around a large pedestal at which a judge sat. At the prosecutors table was some kind of Lawyer, two children, and a large balding man with puffy cheeks and big eyes, who seemed horribly upset and worried... He looked at Damien with intense grief and sorrow. At the at the defendants table... A big man with a full beard... The same one from before, with a cocky smirk across his face. A lawyer was talking to a blonde boy near the judge, asking questions as a jury listened intently... [/b] [b]There was no mistaking it... The boy being questioned was Damien... His blue eyes replaced with yellow, hostile, hateful eyes... Except one was swollen and silvery... A horrible bruise. Time had passed... He looked to be about thirteen... Maybe twelve. He was looking ahead at the door, unresponsive, a look of pure hate and anger pacing his twitching muscles...[/b] [i]"Please answer the question. Did Bismarcke Lordan kill Killian Lordan and then sell you off to the sex trade...?"[/i] [b]Silence.[/b] [i]"We're you not the boy found at the Giggling Promenade on September Fourth, Twenty twenty nine?"[/i] [b]Silence.[/b] [b]The jury began to mumble amongst themselves, some shaking their heads in disappointment.[/b] [i]"As you can see, honor. This boy is too mentally damaged to be responsive... These papers clearly show his DNA has been physically altered and we have no way of linking him Mr. Lordan... Thus, there is no solid grounds to link him to the Grinning Promenade, this boy, or Killian."[/i] [i]"You sick son of a bitch!"[/i] [b]Suddenly the large man from before sprang up, a hostile glare in his eyes at he stares at the lawyer passing the main floor, a sick grin now on his face.[/b] [i]"And please control Mister Balkon... Can't have Mr. Lordan's rightful children go trough another custody battle."[/i] [b]The lawyer takes his seat as the judge looks down at Damien, compassion in his eyes.[/b] [i]"It's okay son... If this is too much for you..."[/i] [b]Damien says nothing, his fists curling up as a strange flare passes his eyes... He almost gave off... A static aura...[/b]