Cobalt honestly couldn't remember the rest of the night. Madam Pudon's party went by in a blur, and he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he barely even registered anyone's words whenever they spoke to him. Elya seemed keen to take advantage of this, as she never once let go of his arm, and constantly scared Pudon off every time she tried to drunkenly approach the Incubus. Even as the night waned and everybody eventually parted ways, he found himself sitting in the Succubus' living room, staring at the phone number written on his hand. The Fallen dutifully by him, hands crossed upon her lap as she narrowed her eyes at the apartment's owner every time she veered close.

"We ought to go, my love. There's no need for us to stay any longer," she said, glancing back at Cobalt.

He shook his head, snapping himself out of the strange trance he had found himself in.

"Um, y- yeah... Hold on, I need to... just hold on."

Abruptly getting out of his seat, Cobalt rushed towards the apartment door before Elya could stop him. Stepping out into the hall, he fished his mobile out of his pocket and flipped it open. He plugged in Caeneus Cransh's number, but stopped right as his thumb hovered over the dial button. His throat was dry, and he could almost hear how hard his heart was pounding.

Was it right to pursue this line of inquiry? As desperate as he was to know more about the Hellhound, was it worth digging into information that the city state government was actively trying to bury?

He swallowed hard.

Perhaps.

He hit dial.

The phone rang for an agonisingly long time, in which Elya popped her head out of Pudon's apartment and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Cobalt just shooed her off and turned away, his heartbeat quickening with every ring.

Eventually he heard someone pick up.

"H- Hello? Is this Caeneus Cransh?" Cobalt asked in a shaky voice.

"... who is this? How did you get this number?"

"M- My name is Cobalt. I was wondering if you would be able to tell me more about the, um... the Hellhound?"

The man on the other end went silent for a long time.

"... Darson Devilleres. There's an alleyway between it and the apartment building on Barnish Avenue. Meet me there in twenty minutes."

The call went dead.

"Something the matter, my love?" asked Elya, still lurking in the doorway.

Slowly flipping his phone shut, Cobalt slipped it back into his pocket and nodded his head, feeling mightily uneasy. Barnish Avenue was one of Brimstone's seedier backstreets. Why would he want to meet him there...?

"Of course. Something has just come up. I- I need to go," he said to her as he began to head towards the elevator.

"I'll accompany-"

"No!"

His voice came out much louder than Cobalt expected, shocking the pair of him. Elya, so unused to the Incubus speaking up, just stared at him with widened eyes, her pupils the size of pinpricks. He just pushed past her before she could react, checking his watch as he ran for the elevator.

"Twenty minutes..."

-----

Cobalt didn't like hanging around the backstreets of Brimstone, especially one as shady as Barnish Avenue. Too narrow for cars, it was a cobbled mess of casinos, bars and Succubus massage parlours that came alive once the sun set. All around him, intimidating individuals surged by, knocking the Incubus to and fro as he tried to make his way to the meeting point. He felt uncomfortable and out of place, and still that question rang in his head over and over again.

Was this worth it?

"Darson Devilleres... Here..." he gasped, out of breath from running all the way from B.I.D.

He found himself standing outside a large alehouse, built in the style of traditional Golem watering holes, but at that moment in time, Cobalt wasn't interested in the architecture. Instead, he gathered himself and stepped into the darkened alleyway just to the left of the building. With only a little streetlight to see by, he navigated the rubbish bins and loose refuse, occasionally disturbing a rat or a racoon with his steps.

"This is the place..." he murmured to himself, looking around nervously.

The walls were covered in graffiti. Most just appeared to be local gang tags or artwork done by street artists, but taking a step back, the Incubus noticed a larger mural lying underneath it all. Back pressed against the other wall, he squinted his eyes and focused. Past all the other graffiti, he could see a large mural of a pair of entwined dog heads; one coloured red, the other coloured blue. The words "NEW BRIMSTONE HELLHOUNDS" were written above it.

The streetlight from Barnish Avenue suddenly disappeared as a figure appeared in the mouth of the alleyway. Cobalt's eyes widened.

"H- Hello?" he called.

He was tall, and as he approached, he saw him pull something out of his coat. Before the Incubus could react, a gloved hand suddenly grabbed his throat and pinned him against the wall while the other produced a wicked knife and pressed it against his throat.

"Hold still and you won't need to bleed this day. How did you get Caen's number?" he hissed in a gruff voice.

The man was a Nymph, judging by his ears, but a red scarf concealed the lower half of his face, leaving only his green eyes visible. They bored into Cobalt's as the knife nicked the blue skin on his neck, causing him to panic.

"V- V- Viola gave it to me!"

"Bullshit. Vio knows better than to start shit without a reason," he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"I- It's true! She gave me the number and told me to call Caeneus Cransh!"

"Wyatt. His name is Caeneus Wyatt."

Cobalt swallowed hard, causing the knife to bite just a little deeper.

"P- Please, sir, who are you?!"

"Davis! Put the knife down!"

Another man appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, shorter than the first. His voice sounded familiar, but with the knife blade so close to slitting his throat, his brain couldn't make any sort of connection. His attacker - Davis, at a guess - scowled and turned his eyes onto the newcomer.

"This guy got Caen's number. I wanna know why, and you're not stopping me, Calvin," he growled, tightening his grip.

"For the love of- just take a look at who you're threatening, you moron!"

Davis' eyes narrowed as he squinted at Cobalt, whereupon they widened with shock. Staggering back, he slipped the knife back into his coat as he let go of the Incubus' throat.

"Shit... you're him..." the Nymph mumbled.

"Aye, that's him. You alright, kid?"

Holding a hand to his neck, Cobalt gasped for breath and looked over at the second man. Sure enough, he was met with an individual he had met once before, back at the PTM. He was a rotund Imp man, dressed in the uniform of a police officer. His eyes glimmered behind steel spectacles, and when he offered a hand, he noticed a thick scar spanning his palm.

Calvin Srenth, the chief of the BPD.

"You're Arnn's father..." the Incubus murmured, allowing himself to be pulled back to his feet.

The Imp nodded.

"Yup. And this dunce over here is Davis Wyatt," he explained, pointing at the Nymph.

The taller man turned his gaze away, but pulled down the scarf, revealing the nasty scars running from the corners of his mouth, like cruel facsimiles of a smile.

"It was a good thing Vio thought to call me about your inquiry. She must have forgotten how paranoid some people can be," Calvin said pointedly.

"Dangerous times. Can't be too careful. Especially with that article," Davis responded, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Aye, well... That's your man's fault, isn't it?"

"He didn't know, alright!"

Calvin raised his hands.

"Easy there. Where is Caen, anyway?"

"Usual spot at the cemetery, why?"

Calvin slapped the Incubus on the back.

"We'll bring this one there. Tell him what he wants to know without any prying eyes. Besides..."

Looking into Cobalt's eyes, he smiled.

"... I want him to meet the Rowdy Boys in full."

-----

The Brimstone Penance Abbey was a stark building, to say the least. Located on a hill high above the town, it was large structure built from dark grey stone and decorated with Gothic buttresses and spires, reminiscent of accusing fingers pointing up to the dark red sky. Great iron bells lined the belfry atop the roof, and as the two men led Cobalt towards the graveyard, the Incubus found himself growing uncomfortable. Though it was rarely used these days, the abbey was once a place of contemplation where penitents would ponder their own twisted existence while they mercilessly flayed themselves with thorned whips.

"Bring back memories, Davis?" Calvin called to the Nymph, who was lagging behind somewhat.

"Shut up. I'm only coming because Caen's already here."

Swallowing hard, Cobalt finally decided to speak up.

"Um, Mr. Srenth? What exactly is going on? Wh- Who are you taking me to see?" he asked as they passed the wrought-iron gates of the cemetery.

"Vio said you wanted to know more about the boss, right?"

"Y- Yeah?"

"Well, we're probably the best guys in Brimstone to ask."

He thumped his chest.

"The New Brimstone Hellhounds, otherwise known as the Rowdy Boys. We were his gang. His posse. His homeboys."

"We were just a group of friends, Calvin," Davis commented.

The Imp snapped his fingers.

"Best friends."

As they passed by headstones, Cobalt noticed a figure up on the hill, illuminated in the ruby light of the moon.

"Including the boss, there was six of us. Me, Davis, Caen, Grunt and Rims."

Approaching the figure, the glaring light waned a little, allowing Cobalt to see a single Glutton man standing before a pair of headstones; the same Glutton he saw credited in the newspaper. Looking up from the gravestones, Caeneus Wyatt marched towards them with a determined look in his eye. Right as Cobalt made to introduce himself, however, the Glutton brushed right past him and instead headed right for Davis. Reaching up, he grabbed the Nymph's ears and pulled his head down to his height.

"What the Hell are you playing at?! That's Cobalt! What would we have done if you'd cut his throat open, huh?!" he chastised, holding his husband's ear like a chastised child.

"I was just worried! You know how the mayor gets when anyone mentions the Damned Defense!"

"So you thought he'd send this young boy - this young Incubus boy - to kill me or something?!"

"I wasn't thinking, okay?!"

"Oh you never do!"

Calvin snorted.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same, huh?" he quipped, leaning against a nearby headstone.

Letting Davis off the hook, Caeneus took a deep breath before readjusting himself, whereupon he turned to Cobalt and smiled, his tail slowly wagging behind him.

"Cobalt. It's good to finally meet you in the flesh," the Glutton said in a gentle voice, offering his hand.

The Incubus shook it.

"You're the one who wrote that article, right?"

"Indeed. Against my better judgement, maybe. But when that photo landed on my desk, well... I was so overwhelmed with nostalgia for an old friend that I just had to say something."

Nodding slowly, Cobalt looked around.

"Um... Calvin said there would be five of you, right?" he asked.

He smiled sadly.

"There are. Here... This is where we left the other two."

Stepping aside, Caeneus gestured for Cobalt to approach the two gravestones. Unlike many of the others surrounding them, these two had been recently polished, and fresh flowers had been laid upon both of them.

Kneeling reverently, he read the name on the first.

Richard "Rims" Ketlford 1973-1994

Aim ever true

Cobalt turned his gaze onto the second.

Grant "Grunt" Zespire 1972-1994

Better to die on your feet than live on your knees

"Zespire... This is Ethan's brother...?" he murmured, remembering what Mr. Zespire had once said to him in the staff room.

Caeneus knelt down next to Cobalt and nodded.

"Yes. Grunt was a gentle soul, possessed of great strength. And Rims was a man of great knowledge. Both paid the ultimate price at the boss' side, and both were smiling when they passed."

"What happened...?"

"The patriarch of the Sulfur Bloods parted Grunt's head from his shoulders when he openly defied him, and Rims was run through after piercing the wings of our foe during the Damned Defense. I hope they've both found peace now."

Cobalt didn't know what to say, so for a couple of minutes, he said nothing. While Davis and Calvin shared a cigarette a few feet away, he and Caeneus knelt by the graves of the Hellhound's fallen comrades, both silently contemplating.

"You must have questions," the Glutton said, looking over at Cobalt.

"O- Oh, yeah, lots. Um... What was he like...?"

Caeneus smiled wistfully.

"He was larger than life. Stubborn. Reckless. A little foolish. But a good man down to the marrow of his bones. He believed in freedom above all else, and he spread that belief to all he crossed paths with. He was quick with a punch in place of words sometimes, but he never forsook the opportunity to make amends with an enemy. He was... a hero in my eyes."

He clasped his hands in front of him and turned his gaze to the sky.

"He first accepted me when I came out. Helped me find comfort when I didn't even feel comfortable in my own body. It's the same with the others, too. With Davis, he gave him a friend to stand by. With Calvin, he gave him courage. Rims and Grunt both needed guidance that he provided without a thought, and we're all indebted to him."

Nodding slowly, Cobalt cleared his throat nervously.

"What, um... What was his name...?"

For a few moments, Caeneus didn't answer. He just stared up at the moon for a while before he finally took a deep breath and looked Cobalt directly in the eyes.

"Brass. His name was Brass."

It felt almost relieving, to finally have a name to put to the title. Brass, the Hellhound, leader of the Rowdy Boys. A man that once saved the entire town during the Damned Defense.

"What happened? During the Damned Defense?" Cobalt asked, eager to learn more.

His face went dark.

"It was... Not a good time for us. Something attacked Brimstone. Something we didn't think was real."

The Incubus inched closer, shackled by the suspense.

"It was a Devil. We fought a Devil that day. It killed Rims and ravaged the town, but Brass kicked his ass in the end."

Cobalt's eyes widened, unable to believe what he had just heard.

Devils... The demons of legend. Tall, grey-skinned masters of metal, said to be the epitome of all sin. They once held dominion over the whole of Hell when Satan himself still walked the land, and have thought to have been extinct since the Rapture, a thousand years ago.

"Y- You're kidding, right...?"

Caeneus shook his head, deadly serious.

"I wish I was. Maybe he was the last of his kind, I don't know. What I do know is that when Brass was through with him, that bastard was a mockery of his former self, and the boss let him limp out of Brimstone with his tail between his legs."

He snorted.

"Or at least he would have, if Brass hadn't of ripped it clean off. It, his wings and his horns for good measure."

As Cobalt was parsing all of this, the Glutton looked down at his watch and clucked his tongue.

"Shit... Need to go pick Ace up from the sitter... Look Cobalt, I know there's a lot you want to know about Brass. And believe me, I would love to tell you. But there's some things about the Hellhound that you'll need to figure out for yourself," he sighed, getting to his feet.

"W- Wait! I had more questions! A- About what happened to him!" the Incubus cried.

Caeneus gave him another smile, but it was a sad, sympathetic smile.

"What else? He fell to the same fate as any Incubus."

Deep down, Cobalt already knew that would be the answer. But he just hoped - even a little bit - that there would be another Incubus that cheated inevitability, just like him. But of course, even the mighty Hellhound was not immune to his own psychology...

"But, before he went, Brass told me something."

He looked up at him. Standing there beside Davis and Calvin, Caeneus cut quite the stalwart figure. Cobalt could almost imagine them all standing side-by-side with the heroic Incubus to whom they had all pledged their loyalty.

"'I'm seein' roses bloom where they ought not to.' That's what he said," the Glutton stated, gathering up his belongings.

The Incubus cocked his head.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

Caeneus shrugged and patted his husband's shoulder, prompting him and Calvin to stub out their cigarette and get ready to go.

"I don't know. But maybe it's something only Incubi understand. At least that what I've been telling myself."

He raised a hand.

"I hope to see you soon, Cobalt. It meant a lot to finally meet you. Truly."

With that, the three Rowdy Boys bid farewell to Cobalt and made their way back down through the cemetery, leaving him alone at the foot of their comrades' graves. Sitting with more questions than answers, he slumped back down onto his knees and turned his gaze skyward.

"Brass... who were you...?" he muttered aloud, taking a deep breath of the night air.

The moon offered no reply.