The alarm clock buzzed like a dying insect in the quiet apartment. Rafael opened his eyes without blinking, staring at the pale ceiling, his breath steady and measured. He didn't need the alarm. He hadn't needed it for years. But keeping up the illusion of routine was just another part of the game. Just another mask.
He rose from bed with silent efficiency, the kind that couldn't be taught in corporate onboarding videos. The room was minimal: white walls, a single framed photo of a little girl with gap-toothed laughter, and an old sofa chair with stitching beginning to fray. Everything had its place. Everything was still.
He showered, dressed, and moved through the apartment with the same practiced grace as he once had in darker places. Black slacks, pale blue shirt, no tie. Just another man heading to another boring job. But the silence followed him, clinging like a scent no soap could erase.
From the next room came a small yawn, then the soft patter of feet. Aria appeared in the hallway, rubbing her eyes, oversized T-shirt hanging off one shoulder.
"Morning, Papa," she said sleepily.
Rafael knelt down, arms open. She ran into them without hesitation.
"Morning, little lion," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her tangled hair.
"Why do you always call me that?" she asked, grinning up at him.
"Because you're fierce. And brave. And you bite when you're hungry."
She giggled. "Do not!"
"Do too. You bit me just last week, remember?"
"That was an accident!"
"So you say."
Over breakfast, she swung her legs while seated on the stool, sipping orange juice and eating toast.
"Papa, can you help me with my art project tonight?"
"Of course. What are we making?"
"A castle. With popsicle sticks. And maybe glitter."
"Glitter?" he said with mock dread. "You know how dangerous that stuff is."
"Dangerous?" she asked, wide-eyed.
"Absolutely. Once it's in the apartment, it never leaves."
She laughed, crumbs scattering across the counter. "You're being silly again."
"To protect you from glitter, I'd be anything."
She beamed and looked at him for a moment too long, tilting her head. "Why don't you ever smile at work?"
He paused. "How do you know that?"
"I saw you from the car once. You looked... tired."
"I smile when I come home," he said softly.
She nodded as if that was enough.
As she grabbed her backpack and darted for the door, he paused. The stillness in the room changed. Something shifted.
He moved to the window with casual precision. Across the street, a black car was parked at an odd angle. Windows tinted. Engine off. It hadn't been there yesterday. The man in the driver's seat was reading a newspaper. Who still read newspapers?
Rafael's fingers twitched. Not with fear. With muscle memory. That kind of parked car was a question. One he couldn't ignore.
The ride to school was filled with laughter and music. Rafael drove one-handed, his other resting near the emergency brake, his eyes scanning mirrors every thirty seconds. The black car didn't follow. But that didn't mean it wasn't watching.
Aria jumped out at the school gates, waving. "See you tonight! Love you!"
Rafael smiled and waved back. "Always."
As soon as she disappeared into the crowd, his smile faded.
---
The office was fluorescent-lit hell. Desks in neat rows, phones buzzing, people talking about metrics, deadlines, and weekend plans. Rafael sat at his corner desk, typing reports with robotic precision. No one really noticed him. That was how he liked it. One coworker had once tried to pry into his life over coffee. She never asked again after seeing his eyes.
At 11:00 a.m., Ryan from two desks over plopped into the empty chair beside him.
"Hey, Raf, you ever coming out with us for drinks?"
Rafael didn't look away from the screen. "I don't drink."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Still, you could come for the wings. Or the atmosphere. Or... I dunno, human interaction?"
"I interact all day."
"Uh-huh. Like a toaster interacts with bread. Come on, man. Don't make me beg."
Rafael finally glanced at him. "You don't want to see me in a bar."
Ryan blinked. Laughed awkwardly. "Okay, fine. Message received, Mr. Mysterious." He stood. "But one day you'll surprise us and show up. Just you wait."
Rafael returned to typing. "One day."
Until 3:47 p.m.
His phone buzzed. A number he didn't recognize. No caller ID.
He stared at it.
Answered.
Nothing.
Then, a child's voice.
"Papa?"
His heart stopped.
"Aria?" he asked, voice razor-thin.
Then a low chuckle filled the speaker. Male. Amused.
"Cute kid. Shame if something happened to her."
The call cut.
Rafael sat perfectly still for two seconds. Then three. Then he stood.
"Emergency," he said to no one in particular, and walked out of the office.
---
The apartment door swung open hard enough to leave a dent in the wall. Rafael swept through every room in under thirty seconds. No sign of struggle. No note. No message. But her stuffed lion was on the floor.
She never dropped it.
He opened the closet near the back wall. Reached behind the coats. Pressed a hidden switch.
A panel slid open.
Inside: a black case. Smooth, fingerprint-locked. It hissed open under his touch. Inside, metal glistened like old friends. A handgun. A combat knife. A phone without SIM.
He picked up the knife.
And for the first time in years, Rafael Diavolo smiled.
Not the smile of a father.
The smile of a man no one had dared speak of for a long, long time.
He picked up the unregistered phone and turned it on. The device flickered and displayed no contacts, no history. Only one shortcut: a red icon labeled Inferno.
He tapped it.
A signal bounced, encrypted. After a few moments, a new call came in. He answered.
"You're not supposed to use this unless—"
"She's gone."
Silence. Then: "Understood. You want extraction? Recon? Names?"
"All of them. And I want them fast."
"How far do you want this to go?"
Rafael's eyes darkened. "All the way to hell."
He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. He tightened the knife sheath on his belt and pulled on a black coat, one with old blood hidden in its stitching.
He stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind him with mechanical precision.
The mask was off. The silence was gone.
And the Devil had just stepped back into the world.
Someone was going to bleed.
And someone was going to scream.
The devil has been reawakened!