A dense white fog blanketed the forest, its tendrils weaving through the ancient trees like spectral fingers. Akuma stood alone, the silence around him broken only by the distant rustle of unseen creatures. The forest seemed endless, each path leading back to where he began—a limbo of his own making.
"Is this penance or punishment?" he mused, his voice swallowed by the mist.
Meanwhile, within the corporeal realm, Akuma's body moved with a will not his own. The parasite had taken control, its eyes gleaming with a malevolent intelligence. Before it stood Lazarus, five contracted younglings, and the girl from the forest—her eyes wary yet resolute.
"The first test is over," the fallen angel intoned, his wings unfurling with an ominous grace. The uncontracted younglings murmured among themselves, uncertainty etched on their faces.
"What about us?" one dared to ask.
The fallen angel's gaze turned icy. "Weakness has no place here." With a swift motion, his feathers shot forward, slicing through the air with deadly precision. Cries rang out as throats were cut, leaving only the five contracted and twenty others standing amidst the carnage.
The parasite, inhabiting Akuma's form, approached the girl, a twisted smile on its lips. Taking her hand, it pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "My name is Akuma. What is yours?"
The girl recoiled, slapping him hard across the face. "Honoka," she spat, eyes blazing with disgust.
Back in the fog-laden forest, Akuma felt the sting on his cheek, a phantom pain that brought clarity. He clenched his fists, determination hardening his features. "I must reclaim myself, before more blood is shed."