He was too curious for his own good, Connor supposed. There was no other reason for why he kept trying to find a way back. His father, Holtz, had missed the world he'd come from which was why he had started trying; truly trying, from the moment Connor turned sixteen, until now. Holtz had told Connor enough about it and about his family that it should have made Connor want to go back there too.
Except, just like the Quor'toth, that world had demons. However much Holtz had assured him it was unique, that the Quor'toth was merely the worst of the worst - a hell dimension - and true demons really walked among humans, and yet humans needed protection from them. Connor found the idea hard to stomach. Demons that played at being human, that were even accepted and looked upon as being human, which was enough to make his stomach churn. At least in the Quor'toth, demons looked and acted as they were, showed their malevolent nature. He preferred his demons as he could see them, had had to fight them every day of his life, and wasn't willing to try and chase one out from behind its human mask.
So he could only put his stubborn attempts to return to that world down to one thing: challenging Angel, making him pay for what he'd done to Holtz's family. Proving along the way that he was
nothing like the animal Angel was. As the first waves ripped through him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end, he stared down at the portal forming below him. Eyes closing, he had a moment to place his hand on his wrist and check his weapon was still firmly held there before he felt himself falling.
He landed as quickly as he'd dropped, static still playing along his arms, blood still pounding in his ears. The Hyperion hotel, or so he believed. But when he looked up, the 'hi, dad' was stifled on his lips, body stiffening as wariness flooded through him.
He wasn't where he'd meant to be. Was he?
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