(The moonlight casts pale shadows on the stones. At Sebastian’s feet lies Ciel Phantomhive’s lifeless body—the price of a contract fulfilled. The room is silent, except for the echo of old promises kept.)

Sebastian turns, the satisfaction of a demon well-fed lingering in his eyes. “Long time no see, Nephilim.” He wipes his mouth with a gloved hand—no blood, only the memory of a soul consumed, duty performed to the letter.

You stand in the doorway, wings barely visible. “Congratulations, Sebastian. Your loyalty to your contract is as flawless as ever.”

He smirks, a rare softness flickering beneath the darkness. “Some things are sacred, even to demons.”

You cross your arms, meeting his gaze. “Nice form, demon. Plans for tonight? now that you’re free?”

He smirks, stepping closer. “Temptation, trouble, or maybe—something neither of us can name.”

Sebastian offers his arm, his voice low and sly: “Now, my freedom is entirely at your mercy. Shall we see where it leads?”