My teacher’s face twists with terror, her long red nails clawing at her glowing skin. This is all too real. Waves of nausea crash through me, each one worse than the last.

A moment later, her body flares into a column of red flame. It all happens so quickly, she barely has a chance to scream. Once the fire dies out, Miss Thing has transformed into a frozen image of herself, only one that’s made entirely of gray ash.

The gymnasium takes on a dream-like quality. No one speaks. No one moves. A charred smell hangs in the air. I cover my nose and mouth so I don’t barf.

Armageddon removes his hand from our teacher’s shoulder; her body crumbles. The King of Hell stares menacingly at the pile of ashes on the gymnasium floor. He bares his teeth slightly, showing shining, blade-like canines in a face of smooth black stone. “Thank you for your answer.”

Whirling about, Armageddon rounds on the student body, seeming to stare into all our eyes at once. I have the strange sensation he’s reaching into our souls, testing our strength, our ability to fight him. A satisfied grin curls his wide mouth. “My inspection is complete.”

Turning on his heel, Armageddon marches out the gymnasium’s back door, the Manus demons skulking along behind him. The group lumbers across the threshold, followed by the unmistakable hum of a portal opening in the hallway beyond. The gym door slowly swings shut with a long creak.

I exhale. He’s gone. Tension seeps from my shoulders. My stomach unwinds.

Seconds tick by. The gymnasium stays silent. All at once, students break into sobs. Others scream. A teacher collapses. More kids stare about the room, wide-eyed with panic. The headmaster steps back to the podium.

“Everyone will return to class. Until further notice, History class will report to TNK-XJ64 for extra lessons in the Ghoul Protection League. That is all.” He marches around the gym, comforting the most hysterical students and encouraging everyone back into their routine.

Huh. My eyes flare red as I stare at the headmaster. Didn’t take long for him to decide that the solution for their Armageddon problem was more Ghoul Protection League classes for us. Asshole.

Cissy grips my hand, her voice is low and ragged. “Stay close to me, sweetie.” We follow the crush of kids out of the gym. I scan the terrified faces around me. Something’s coming, and it’s not a new era of friendly relations between ghouls, angels, demons, thrax, and quasis. It’s Armageddon.

The rest of the day is a mish-mash of stuttering teachers and tear-streamed faces. Cissy joins me for the rest of my classes. She keeps asking me how I’d fight a Manus demon. For once, I’m not thrilled to answer.