Her seatmate's skin was gray traced with golden designs, his hair wafted around his head as though underwater, and his eyes did not blink as he studied her. "Who are you?" she asked, but before he could answer the vinyl underneath her blistered and disintegrated and a city flared up around them, towers beaming into the dark as neon rainbows swiveled into place just above eye level.
"Tokyo," she realized.
"So many mortals," the gray man mused. "Is it even possible to save them all?" He reached out to touch the head of a passing child, fingers shining with an ominous light, and she threw herself in his way. Before her eyes could follow he'd moved and reappeared behind her, breath warm against her ear. "Who am I?" he asked mockingly.
"The devil," she accused. He turned to the nearest mortal, a woman, and reached again.