Stop your bitching, Nick. You should try being an immortal demon who’s lived since the dawn of time having to sit through this crap when English is not my native tongue, and if you think you’re fluent in it, buddy, I actually know what a gerund is.

Calm down. I’m a demon, Nick. Hematite doesn’t like my genetics. It doesn’t mean anything other than I have really bad parentage.”
“Then why am I having flashes of you killing me?”
“What’d you eat this morning?”
Nick didn’t care for that answer. Not one little bit. “I saw it happen. You were choking the life out of me.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah. That is definitely a figment of your overactive, over-Hollywood-stimulated imagination. I assure you. I don’t kill people that way. Takes too long. I’m not into torture. I prefer a quick death so that I can move on to something more satisfying.”
Strangely enough, that he believed. Patience wasn’t a virtue Caleb practiced. “You sure?”
“Dude, look at me. You think I’d have let the demons pound all over me last night so that you could escape if I had any intention of killing you? Really?

The whole point of life is learning to live with the consequences of the bad decision we've made.

Am I too late?" Caleb asked as he joined them. "Did he do something stupid?"

"Yeah. On both counts." Tristan stalked past Nick.

By the power of Grayskull. . . I have the power!" Nick
"By the power of Grayskull, I'm going to cleave your skull from your shoulders if you don't take this seriously." Caleb

The strongest steel is forged by the fires of hell. It is pounded and struck repeatedly before it's plunged back into the molten fire. The fire gives it power and flexibility, and the blows give it STRENGTH. Those two thing make the metal pliable and able to withstand every battle it's called upon to fight.