Chapter 2
When Asmodeus stared into the mirror, what stared back at him wasn't his own reflection.
The guy in the mirror was much paler than Asmodeus remembered being.
And this stranger's eyes were very light, so much that they were more white than blue. His hair was almost silver instead of blonde, as if it were aging faster than him.
He splashed his face with water trying to wake himself up. But he could still see the stranger, with the same horrified expression as Asmodeus.
Asmodeus raised his hand and the stranger imitated.
Asmodeus touched his face, the stranger did so too.
“Why do you look like me but not me?”
He waited for an answer but only the silence remained.
Asmodeus put his palm against the mirror hoping that would change it back to normal. But all he got was the stranger doing the same.
“Stop— stop imitating me,” Asmodeus stuttered.
The stranger mouthed something but didn't comply.
A tired laugh escaped him.
"This... this has to be the lighting. Ye— yes, this is absolutely lighting."
He tried turning the lights off. The stranger stayed. He turned them on again and the stranger didn't budge.
He continued to stare. Waiting for the reflection to correct itself.
He tried to wash his face again, wash the paleness away.
Then a sharp ring was heard in his head. He supported his head with his hand.
“AH— M-my head—”
Asmodeus couldn't feel any strength in his legs.
*thud
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Before he knew it, he was sitting on the bathroom floor. The coldness of the tiles crept up his arm.
The ringing continued for an uncomfortable amount of time.
'What the hell is going on? Why does my head hurt so much?'
.
.
.
The ringing finally stopped, after what felt like an eternity.
He tried to stand up, only to fail. His legs seemed to have gone numb.
He tried again. And again.
He finally stood up, supporting most of his weight with his hands.
'Was that not a dream last night? Am I really this pale? No. No, it has to be the lighting.'
As he walked down the hallway, the servants kept taking second looks at him. As if to make sure, it was the same person.
'Why are they so confused to see me?’
‘Am I really looking different? Was it not just me dreaming?'
The stares kept adding to his suspicion.
'Ah! This damned head pain!' he thought while grabbing his head. ‘I'm not exercising today.’
Asmodeus had just grabbed his coffee and—
*Ching
The notification sound cut through the haze behind Asmodeus’ eyes.
“It's annoying to get notifications at… I forgot time.”
He stared at the screen a little longer. The letters seemed to be moving around.
He blinked. The letters still didn’t obey. He rubbed his eyes. The letters seemed to have stopped shifting now.
[Logistics contract pending review]
He immediately opened the file.
‘At least this would distract me from the headache.’
The screen seemed too bright. He couldn’t lower the brightness any lower. He squinted, forcing his eyes to readjust.
He read for a while, then stopped. Then reread the same lines.
It didn't feel like he was reading, only his eyes were moving.
After multiple attempts he could finally grasp what was written.
His headache pulsed once— sharp.
He rubbed his temples. That helped for a moment.
His eyes followed the document again.
Something felt off.
The words should have meant agreement. But it wasn't clear.
“Ah… I'll have to discuss it with dad.”
Asmodeus called Vincent.
A ring…
Then another…
“Hey, puffer fish, what is it?” Vincent said cheerfully.
Asmodeus could hear people speaking in the distance.
“Dad, are you free right now? This contract you asked me to check isn't contracting.” The words came out rough.
“Are you okay kiddo? Your voice seems off.”
“Kinda… I just woke up.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, but this document.”
“Ahh… sure, go ahead Asmo.”
“You remember the contract you asked me to review? It has a… wording problem.”
There was a pause on the other side.
“Explain.”
“They mentioned that they received our terms but nowhere is it mentioned that they agree to it.”
The silence stretched.
“Dad?”
“Where is it?”
“3rd page, Clause 13. It's blended in.”
There was another long silence.
“I checked it. You're right, I'll deal with this, don't worry.”
“Great, and I demand ice cream.”
“No!”
“Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream—”
“—this kid! Alright I'll get you a tub.”
“Two.”
“None.”
“One.”
“That's better.”
“Yay.”
The call ended. And the coffee was cold.
“Dona, can you heat this up for me?” Asmodeus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yes sir. Just a minute.”
Asmodeus was scrolling across the contract again.
The corner of his vision darkened a bit.
He shook it off. It wasn't the first time. He had these whenever he didn't sleep well.
"Asmo?” A sweet, warm voice called out to him. But when he turned his head, she had 'who is this?' written on her face.
"Sweetie, you look so... um... pale.
Are you okay? Is something wrong?" Her voice had that motherly worry.
"I don't know. Does it look that obvious?" Asmodeus ran his hand through his hair as if trying to remove the silver colour.
The silver persisted.
Cassandra brushed his hair aside to get a better look.
“You were fine last night. Did you sleep well?”
Asmodeus paused for a second.
“I did.”
The pause was enough for a mother to know the full story.
“You didn't, now did you?”
Asmodeus wore a pitiful expression.
“Kid, I raised you for 19 years, that won't work on me.”
“Damn.” Asmodeus immediately started to pout at his failed attempt.
“Besides that, why is your hair white?”
Cassandra ran her hand through her son's hair, trying to make sense of the sudden change in hair colour.
“And even your eyes are like that.”
She grabbed her son's face, trying to make sense of whatever she was seeing.
"I don't know. It was like this when I— "
His vision turned black.
"ASMO—" was the last he heard.