Copia had sworn he had seen the worst thing ever when he saw one of his rats fall downstairs, but now? No, it wasn’t. The worst thing was witnessing his mother, Sister Imperator, die in front of his eyes.

The concert in LA was a blur, his own head spinning from the fall as two workers helped him up as he watched helplessly as staff members used a defibrillator on his mother — no luck. He couldn’t help but let a weak tear slip out.

He felt out of place, he didn’t understand what was going on anymore. Was it normal to feel this empty inside? To feel so drained when he did the things he used to love? He wasn’t so sure.

Now, back in the ministry a few weeks later, he sat down in his newer office, his uniform uncomfortable and his gloves too tight, which was a bit agitating to him in all honesty. he just wanted to cry. The only sounds in the dim room was the fireplace and the rain pattering against the window pains.

He was midway through applying his top lip of black lipstick when he heard a knock at the door, confusing him in the slightest before he fixed himself to look like he hadn’t cried for hours, even though it was deeply obvious.

“Eh.. come in!” He called out awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly. Satanas, he sounded horrid. He adjusted his blazer and looked up from the small mirror on his desk, waiting to see who’d enter.