The London night is made of soot, fog, and malice. Ciel Phantomhive thought this as he gazed out the carriage window. The fragments of the diary found yesterday in the burnt ruins of the old manor still throbbed faintly in his chest. *I ran away. I was the only one who ran away* — words he could not possibly have written himself. "[cold] Young master, we are nearly there." From the seat opposite, Sebastian Michaelis spoke quietly. The same emotionless smile as always. His jet-black hair was without a single strand out of place, and his crimson eyes were narrowed like a serpent eyeing its prey. "[sigh] I know." The carriage swayed as it advanced over the cobblestones of Grimsby Wharf. The rank wind of the Thames drifted in through the window. This was the entrance to Chinatown. Red lanterns glowed dimly in the night fog, and the sickly-sweet smoke of opium drifted from the depths of the alleys. The warehouse district along the wharf showed a face entirely different from its daytime guise. Vagrants in rags leaned against the walls, and shady merchants negotiated prices in hushed voices. The coquettish laughter of women, the angry shouts of drunkards, the distant sound of shattering glass. "[sarcastic] The same rubbish heap as always." The carriage stopped. Warehouse No. 7 — Lau's territory. Sebastian alighted first and opened the door for Ciel. Passing through a hidden door at the back of the warehouse, they entered another world. Purple smoke filled the room, and a cloying sweetness clung to the lungs. Beneath dim lamps, several men and women lay sprawled on couches, staring vacantly at the ceiling. An opium den. "[laughing] My, my, what unusual guests." From the depths of the room, a man holding a fan emerged. Lustrous black hair extending to his waist, narrow, slit-like eyes. An androgynous beauty surfaced within the smoke. Fixed upon his lips was a smile from which one could read absolutely nothing. "[sarcastic] Lau. You're as shady-looking as ever." "[laughing] Well, well, little lord. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? It's Lau of the Kunlun Trading Company — you remember?" Lau approached slowly, his opium pipe trailing smoke. His footsteps echoed unnervingly on the damp floor. Ciel felt his irritation mounting immediately at the man's demeanor. This man was always like this. Eyes that seemed to see through everything, yet never revealing his true intentions. "[cold] I have no business with you. Hand over the information. It's about the remnants of the Cerberus Circle." Lau snapped his fan shut. His eyes turned serious for just a fleeting moment. "[serious] ...I like that, little lord. Straight to the point as always." Lau reached for the tea set on the table. In a room filled with dubious smoke, he was deliberately trying to brew tea. "[laughing] Well, have a seat. How about some tea—" "[cold] The young master will not be partaking of the tea here." Sebastian's voice cut in, cold as steel. A perfectly expressionless face. "[angry] Obviously. As if I could drink anything from a place like this." Lau shrugged and set the tea set down. "[laughing] How cold. And it's such a fine Longjing tea, too." Ciel struck his cane against the floor with a sharp clack. "[cold] Spare me the idle chatter. Give me the information." Lau repositioned his pipe and slowly exhaled. White smoke dissolved into the purple air. "[serious] Fine, I'll tell you. The remnants of the Cerberus Circle — there are some who are still alive." Ciel's spine straightened rigidly. "[cold] Where." "[serious] Whitechapel. An abandoned church — beneath St. Margaret's Church. Three of them. They're still there, continuing their occult rituals." Ciel listened in silence, but his clenched fists trembled faintly on his lap. Sebastian quietly caught sight of that trembling from the corner of his eye. "[serious] And, little lord—" Lau set down his pipe. The smile vanished from his face. "[serious] Those people, it seems they only recently learned that you're alive. Their objective is to complete the ritual they left unfinished three years ago — in other words—" "[cold] They intend to use me as a sacrifice again." Ciel's voice was colder than even he himself expected. But a churning nausea swirled in the pit of his stomach. The sensation of that night's terror crawling beneath his skin. Lau nodded. "[serious] That's the gist of it. Be careful, little lord. They're serious." Ciel pressed his lips into a tight line. The people who had made him a sacrifice that night were still alive. It wasn't over yet. "[laughing] But, you see, there's an even more interesting story." Lau's voice suddenly turned light. He opened his fan again, concealing his mouth. "[sarcastic] What." "[serious] The night of the ritual three years ago — there's a smuggler who witnessed it. A business associate of mine. According to him—" Lau paused for a breath. His eyes studied Ciel, as if testing him. "[serious] The first person the demon approached with a contract wasn't the sorcerer leading the ritual. The demon, without hesitation, went straight toward the sacrificial boy." Something snapped inside Ciel's head. "[angry] ...What?" "[serious] The sorcerers panicked and tried to stop it, but it was already too late. The boy shouted something. And then — the ritual chamber became a sea of blood." Lau's voice was matter-of-fact. That, if anything, only added weight to his words. "[whispers] The one who killed the sorcerers wasn't the demon — it was you, little lord. You were the principal agent of the summoning." Ciel's vision swayed violently. (*I — summoned it?*) He was supposed to have been the victim. Sacrificed, he had made a contract with a demon for revenge. That was what he had believed. But — was it different? Deep in his chest, the words of that diary surfaced. *I ran away. I was the only one who ran away.* *That's why I —* (*That's why I — what did I do?*) His heart pounded painfully. His breathing grew shallow. His mind went blank. He didn't understand himself — his own self. "[angry] Where did you get that information?" His voice was shrill. He could tell it was trembling, even as he heard himself, but he couldn't stop it. Lau smiled. "[laughing] I'd rather not say. Protecting one's sources is a basic principle of business." "[angry] Lau—" At that moment. CRASH!! The window glass shattered with a thunderous roar. Bullets gouged the walls, tearing through the opium smoke. "Gyaaah!" "Run!" The customers screamed and threw themselves to the floor. The lamps swayed, and shadows danced madly. Sebastian had scooped Ciel up in an instant. Superhuman speed. He slid behind a pillar, shielding Ciel by pressing him into the corner of the wall. "[gentle] Young master, are you injured?" His voice remained elegant. But his crimson eyes glimmered faintly brighter. Three men stormed in from outside. Shabby coats, guns and blades in their hands. Their eyes glittered with an abnormal light — they were far from sane. "Don't kill the brat! Take him alive!" The shout echoed through the smoke. (*Take him — alive.*) Pressing his back against the wall, Ciel absorbed the meaning of those words. Not to kill him. To capture him. To use him as a sacrifice again. Those people were still trying to complete that ritual. "[angry] Me... still, as a sacrifice..." He bit his lip. The taste of iron spread. Terror and rage melted together into a tangled mess inside his chest. Lau moved swiftly in the gap created by the chaos. He slipped soundlessly into a hidden passage at the back of the room. "[serious] Little lord, sorry, but I'll have to handle things on my own from here. You be careful too — those people are insane." "[angry] Wait, Lau! We're not done talking—" But Lau's figure had already vanished into the darkness. One adult he could rely on, departing. Loneliness gripped Ciel's heart with a cold hand. But — "[cold] Young master." Sebastian's voice resonated right by his ear. "[gentle] I am here. Give me your orders." Ciel looked up. An unmistakable demon, smiling with the face of a butler. That smile, at this moment alone, felt strangely reassuring. "[cold] ...Do it. No holding back, Sebastian." "[laughing] Yes, my lord." Sebastian rose slowly. One of the assassins charged, leveling his gun. The trigger was pulled. The bullet tore through the air. Sebastian — caught it with his bare hand. "Wha—" In the next instant, Sebastian's hand struck the gun away and seized the man's arm in the same motion. CRACK. The sound of breaking bone. So light, almost casual. "GYAAAAAH!!" The man collapsed to the floor. Without even glancing back, Sebastian moved toward the second man. He twisted the wrist of the knife-wielding man upward and slammed him against the wall. The third man closed in from behind, but Sebastian's heel caught him square in the jaw. THUD. The third assassin fell like a puppet with its strings cut. It had all happened in mere seconds. Elegant, nearly silent violence. Sebastian flicked a speck of dust from his white gloves. "[gentle] Young master, they have been subdued." Ciel approached one of the fallen assassins. The man leaned against the wall, cradling his broken arm, yet still glaring at Ciel with eyes full of hatred. "[cold] Where is your group's base?" His voice no longer trembled. The assassin refused to talk. But on the inside of his coat, an embroidered crest caught Ciel's eye. A design modeled after the head of Cerberus. "[cold] Young master." Sebastian quietly pointed to it. Ciel nodded and stared straight into the assassin's eyes. "[cold] Among your comrades — there's a woman, isn't there. The woman who survived that night." A clear flicker of agitation crossed the assassin's face. It was only for an instant, but Ciel did not miss it. (*Right on the mark.*) Lau's information — a female survivor hiding beneath the abandoned church. He now had confirmation that it was true. "[serious] Sebastian, let's go." "[gentle] Certainly." Ciel turned his back and left the opium den. Behind him, the assassins groaned in pain. The fog outside had grown even thicker. A steamship whistle sounded in the distance on the Thames. Walking along the cobblestones of the wharf, Ciel murmured quietly. "[whispers] If I was the one who called it — then what did I shout?" The one who held that answer was beneath the abandoned church. Into the fog, Ciel's small shadow slowly dissolved. Sebastian walked behind him in silence. His crimson eyes glowed quietly in the darkness.