The street was deserted. Eerily silent. Soft, but deep footfalls echoed off of the walls of abandoned buildings. Cockroaches and mice scrambled underfoot to get away from the large newcomer. He stopped as the vermin scuttled away. "Damn, this place did go to hell," he observed. "Can't leave for a few months without getting infested, I suppose," he continued on. His voice was deep, and slightly raspy. Certainly not a voice that would belong to a seventeen-year-old. However, this was precisely the case. The boy's name was Epsil. He was tall and semi-muscular, being much stronger than his lean appearance showed. His skin was oddly pale, his eyes a glowing, predatory amber. A pair of dark jeans and black boots, a white shirt, and a grey trench coat were all that was visible on his person. His hair was wavy and jet-black, pushed away from his face and cascading down his shoulders. Slightly crooked teeth were visible behind a mischievous half-grin. He slouched slightly, his body language very nonchalant. The fact that he was so young, yet alone and still alive in fair health was a clear display of how able a fighter he was. It didn't matter how good at hiding and surviving you were, the demons could always sniff you out. So you had to kill them, which is what Epsil did. A few paces later, the boy strode out from the alley he'd been in, into the middle of the street. A few rays of sunlight poked through the grey sky to light the desolate and wrecked shell of the city. Once, it had a name, but that was long forgotten, all traces marked out by graffiti or scavenged or just simply destroyed. Epsil sighed loudly, stretching his arms towards the sky. "'S nice to be home, I guess," he said to himself, letting his arms drop. His eyes scanned the street for a few moments, looking for anything that was moving towards the sound. Nothing, aside from the standard vermin, and a few crows moved. He sighed again, groaning. "I was really hoping someone'd come on out to play," he drawled on. "No need to be shy, 'ol Epsil isn't a bad person~" he called out, strolling on down the street with his hands in his pockets. He'd heard rumors of an odd broadcast in the area and appeared to track down the creator of the message. Perhaps he would be a Child, too. Well, if the stranger took down a Greater Demon, like the rumors said, he had to be a Child. Nothing short of an army of normal humans could take on a Greater and actually kill it. A third sigh escaped the boy's lips as a gust of brisk autumn wind ruffled his hair. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky, letting the scarce beams of sunlight that pierced through the clouds warm his face. "Mmm...It's so lovely out. It'd be a shame if it rained," he remarked, mostly to himself. Though Epsil had a habit of talking to himself anyways, he decided that his habit would be beneficial in finding anyone else drawn to the broadcast. Or the broadcaster himself.