Brothers.

Three years ago.

After the meeting, the Evolutionary brass held with the United Superpowers, and August questioned Alex and Ace.

Walking out the Tower's front entrance, August removed a shiny-red apple from his pocket. Upon biting into the side, the Detective briefly chuckled. Courtesy of all the parked cars, August heard him. Upturning an eyebrow… he stood cheek-to-cheek away from his detective partner.

"What the hell're you doing?" asked Az.

"Tryin' to figure out who you laughin' at," August replied.

"If you don't get away from me in two seconds, I'll slap you," Azazel said.

"Okay, I'm sorry, father," August stood back and tearfully replied, mocking a dramatic sniffle.

Azazel clicked his teeth and rolled his eyes. "What's this coffee place you wanna show me anyway?" he asked.

Having wiped away all the fake tears clouding his sight, August jumped up. "Ooh, ooh! We're here, we're here!" he yelled.

Taking his friend by his arm, the white-haired man pulled his rival inside. Before he could glimpse at the environment's interior, however, his eyes were covered. Now, with his retinas prohibited by August's tan-skinned eyes, Azazel was blinded.

"What're you covering my eyes for, exactly?" Azazel asked.

"3… 2… 1!! TA-DA!" August removed his palms and revealed Azazel's surprise.

Arms extended outward as if displaying his masterpiece for the world, Karlo was taken aback. His eyeballs widened and his pupils were shrunken. But this wasn't any ordinary shock, no. August, turning away from his partner, gawked at the interior.

"I thought it was kinda weird at first but then I thought, 'what the hell?', y'know? Besides, this place… brings back a lot of memories. Well, for me at least," said August.

Turning around from admiring the architecture with crossed arms, he asked, "So, whaddya think, Azzy?"

But then opening his eyes, he saw exactly what his partner thought. Even his eyes widened—to think such an irrelevant place would bring the most stoic of men to tears.

'This is…' Azazel thought.

With his goal achieved, August let his head fall and closed his eyes, allowing a content smile to curl up his lips. He grabbed his brother's hand.

"What're you waiting for then? Let's go in already," August turned his head from facing forward, flaunting that precious, selfless smile, "to our home."

The time they spent there was something special. Something unexplainable that they kept locked at their hearts' depths. Everything ongoing in the world was inconsequential compared to what these little moments together meant. The descending raindrops repeatedly tapping against the wetted windows around them served as the soothing background noise for their conversation. Clinking their glasses together dramatically, August winked at his brother before downing the liquor they'd ordered. While August recoiled in disgust, Azazel examined the delightful drink.

"Blegh. Oh, you like this shit? Here, have mine."

August slid the alcoholic drink across the wooden table and into Azazel's open hand.

"So? Why'd you renovated a normal vacant building into a jazz cafe? And more importantly, how do you remember the exact details from way back when?" asked Azazel.

The Detective's question led August to lean back as he chuckled. Scratching his chin, he contemplated the question and shrugged.

"I dunno. I think back on that night so often that I can't forget it. Everything from the song that was playing to the warm stench in the air. If you remember correctly, you're the one who brought me here first. And, ya know, since I never got to ask before… What was that place to you?"

What August asked had paused Azazel completely. Instead of swallowing the drink, he held close to his lips, his hand quivered and he lost control of what he held. It tumbled onto the table below his arm. But before the drink could spill out, August caught it instantly. Leaning back against the chair with spread legs, the white-haired man examined his reflection ingrained into the glass and chuckled.

Azazel, having covered his mouth to prevent puking, noticed his rival's laughter. Having now cleared his throat, he raspily asked, "What're you laughin' about this time, you precocious brat?"

"Ah, what else! My stupid question, of course. I… know the answer already. But, what's the point of asking a question you already know the answer to?" August asked without facing Azazel.

"To hear the answer again?" The Detective guessed.

"Well, it was kinda a rhetorical question but that's right. The answer is sometimes so sweet you have to hear it twice. To think that you perceive this place as your home, it's kinda funny. The deadly, brooding Azazel Karlo has a favorite restaurant. Ya know, if I told Katie, she'd call you a loser," August teased him, locking their eye contact as he shot his head back.

"Don't remind me," Azazel responded, rubbing his arm.

August chuckled. While affixing his posture, leaning upright, and stretching his arms, he moaned. Bending his body from left to right, his bones expressed a satisfying pop. His stretches were now finished, his arm attached to the table and he leaned forward. With their gazes chained together, August suddenly revealed the same apple he had earlier. Still with a bite taken out one half.

"I have something to ask you. Whether or not you're comfortable with it doesn't matter. I just need an answer," August said.

"Okay. Tell me then," responded Azazel quickly.

"When I asked Ace and Alex what I did earlier, you were uncomfortable, weren't you? You didn't agree with what I said in the slightest. But, even still, you didn't object. Why is that?" August queried.

"I wasn't going to question your methods in front of your son. Of course, you have no regard for boundaries so it's only natural you'd ask me this. That aside, there's no other reason. Why do you ask this?" The Detective quizzically raised his hand after speaking.

"Because everything I said to them is bullshit. I admit my decisions lately have been messy but… what's going to happen with Retly isn't up to me. Whether or not the path of inaction is the righteous one, it's irrelevant. I don't care about anything anymore. Even my son, daughter, and brother… I can't find it within myself to move any longer within this cruel world," August admitted, head resting in his arms.

"So, you want to die? Are you asking me to kill you?" Azazel asked.

"Essentially. Does that surprise you?"

August uplifted his head from between his arms.

"No. It doesn't. You won't be in this World anymore but you'll hover over it from the heavens. Or, in other words, the Seas of Time. You wish to be reincarnated for something thereafter I kill you, probably via Hana's technique. But why? And for what?"

Azazel's eyes were lifeless while speaking; his palms flat against the stable, wooden table.

"Despite what they've planned already, it's undoubtedly that the Evolutionary Capital's assured survival relies on the dormant Tower of Chains lingering below. Despite having chosen how I'm going to die, I'm going to choose what I do after death."

August rested his hand against his head, scratching his white hair; vocalizing simultaneously.

"So, if Alex and Katie reach the Seas of Time after obtaining the Requiem Artifact, then you'd be there waiting for them and activate it for your gains instead?"

Azazel blinked only once for the whole duration he spoke.

"Right. I don't want to drag everyone into my plans, so I want you to do this before anything escalates. Make it look like a suicide," August beckoned a nearby waiter, asking for more water.

"Do you have any idea what you're asking me? Or better yet, to make you understand, do you remember EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH? The thought of killing you—having you slain by my hands would sound so appealing to my younger self! And even so, I COULDN'T! Do you even understand what you mean to me… Augustus Rivera? The one person I hated more than anything… to think you'd stay by my side despite everything makes my younger self sick to his stomach. It's so… humiliating," Azazel spat out his confession with an ashamed expression, now covering his face.

That was, until a loving voice called his name, dipped in masculine depth.

"Azazel."

Detective Karlo revealed his face once again. What awaited him on the opposite side of his palms was unexpected. To make up for the tears lost while yelling such a speech, August cried with a smile across his mouth. He suddenly sniffled. And then, his head jerked to the right; removing any stray snowy strands hiding his features. If this were anyone else, it wouldn't matter. These last words the white-haired Reaper would give, neither as the Emperor's son nor Augustus Rivera, but as Azazel Karlo's rival were—

"..."

Azazel was left shocked and blushing. The last words Augustus Rivera ever spoke were right then and there, before him at that table. Even now, in the present, those words rang out to him; forever resounding inside mental confines. Yet, a feeling returned to his chest after this brief surge of selfishness. He remembered their faces. Ace. June.

"What about your children?" Azazel sniffled, "Won't they care that you're gone?" he asked.

"What are you even talking about? From this moment onward, my death is assured. Whether it be one, two, or three years into the future, I'll be gone. And even after I die, their lives will continue. I just hope… they'll lead peaceful lives… after my death."