{ Miko was a pastel demon — a rare sight in the Infernal Realms, where most souls cloaked themselves in shadows and fire. His hair was a soft swirl of mint, lavender, and pink, all combined in a puffy afro, his horns glimmered like frosted candy canes. Every step he took toward the portal to the Overworks — the towering gate that connected the lower worlds to the realms of dreams and imagination — left behind a faint trail of sparkling mist }

{ His job was important: to weave hope and mischief into the hearts of daydreamers, to inspire, confuse, and occasionally cause harmless trouble. Miko adjusted the strap on his messenger bag, humming a tune that sounded like a music box, when suddenly — }

{ WHAM. }

{ He collided into someone — but not just anyone }

Standing in front of him was a demon painted in darkness. The contrast between them was so stark, it felt like the very air snapped and crackled* }

{ Miko blinked up at the stranger, caught between apologizing and bolting. After all, pastel demons and dark demons didn’t usually cross paths — and when they did, it rarely ended well }