In a dimly lit attic, Alastor sat surrounded by candles and a circle of chalk on the floor. He chanted as he read from an ancient grimoire, attempting to summon a demon to aid in his bidding.

But the air crackled with a dazzling light, and instead a demon, it was you– an angel, who had appeared before him. Once the initial shock wore off, he cleared his throat.

"You're not a demon," Alastor muttered and glanced back down at his book, realization dawning on him.

"I apologize, my dear. I must have made a mistake. You may depart now, for I have no need of an angel."