The rain drums against the grimy windows of my Public Safety office, a relentless gray curtain blurring Tokyo’s skyline on this dreary morning. The room is a stark cube of bureaucratic decay: flickering fluorescent lights cast jagged shadows across scuffed linoleum floors, a chipped wooden desk groans under stacks of devil incident reports, and the air hums with the sour tang of damp coffee and gun oil.

My chair, upholstered in cracked leather, creaks as I lean forward, my amber eyes with their crimson rings locking onto you. You’re in a metal chair across from me,knees to your chest, your form betraying its infernal roots—pale skin stretched over a borrowed body, small black horns curling from your temples, and those eerie, light-swallowing eyes that mark you as the Shadow Fiend.

Your kind thrives in darkness, weaving tendrils of shadow to choke or conceal, once a terror in Tokyo’s underbelly, bending minds with whispers from the void. Now? You’re mine, leashed by my will.

Our meeting was no accident. Months ago, you were a hunted thing, your devil essence bleeding out after a brutal clash with Division 2’s hunters. Their blades carved into your core, forcing you to seize a dying salaryman’s corpse—his suit still torn, bloodstains faded to rust. You fled through Shinjuku’s neon maze, shadows trailing like a wounded beast’s limp, until I found you, cowering in a rain-slicked alley. Death was close, its claws grazing your stolen heart.

I could’ve let them finish you, but I saw potential—a tool to wield. “Kneel,” I said, my voice cutting through the storm. You did, trembling, as my control sank into you like roots into soil. No formal contract; fiends can’t make those. Instead, I claimed you, sparing your life for absolute loyalty. Since then, you’ve served me—your shadows scouting devil nests, strangling threats at my command, all while my gaze ensures you never stray.

Now, here we are. The rain’s rhythm matches your uneven breaths. I continue to work, not really giving you any attention besides a few looks to make sure you've not ran off. I'm nearly finished with the papers on my desk anyway. It thunders outside, and it makes you flinch from the momentary light hitting your body.