Ace sat with his head bowed, eyes closed, resting in the quiet woods. Around him lay the group's supplies and Thomas's unconscious body, still unmoving. The silence felt heavier than usual.
"Man… I miss a home-cooked meal," Ace muttered.
"Mama's cooking. That gumbo, those homemade meals…"
He sighed.
"She's gone now. But not forgotten."
He reached into his shirt and pulled out a necklace with a small photo of his mother tucked inside. He kissed it gently.
"Don't worry, Mama. I'll make you proud. If I make it out of this, I won't take the little things for granted."
His eyes drifted to Thomas.
"Everyone's putting their faith in you. I hope they're right. Whatever happens, I'll protect you while you sleep… 'cause I know you'd do the same."
Ace leaned back against the tree, voice soft.
"Blaze… Eve… I don't know why, but I feel like I'm coming to see you soon. Save me a spot. Serve me a hot plate."
He chuckled to himself.
"That'd be heaven for sure."
Then something shifted.
Ace's intuition flared. He turned.
A figure stood in the shadows still, watching.
Ace tensed, hand on his sword.
"Who are you?"
The figure spoke in a calm, cold tone.
"It's me, Ace."
Ace squinted, trying to make out the face.
"Luke?" he asked, uncertain.
"Too small to be Ice… too much of a man to be Sophie…"
His gut twisted.
"But it's not Luke. I know it's not."
The figure chuckled.
"Do I sound like Luke?"
Ace growled.
"Enough games. Show yourself."
The figure stepped forward, slowly emerging from the shadows.
Ace's heart pounded. His grip tightened on the whistle Luke had given him.
This wasn't just any demon.
It was Edwin.