High School DxD: Magus

by Ochd_Deug_Odin

Summary:

The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. Where truth is stranger than fiction, mythology blends with reality, and supernatural factions lie in wait for the next full-scale conflict, what difference could one human at a high school in Japan make?

"Heh, the answer depends on who you ask."

An amateur adventure/supernatural/spy drama in a universe where perverseness equals power. Oy vey.

Chapter 1: Debut

Kuoh Academy; located in the heart of the small, aptly named Kuoh Town, the formerly female exclusive private academy boasted some of the most prodigious youth in central Japan. It was late April, and cherry blossoms had been in full bloom for several days now, painting the landscape in pink and white, so there were plenty of beautiful sights to behold as one traveled through the town.

The academic year had been underway for nearly a month, students having gotten used to their academic routines, rejoining their groups of friends or bringing in new friends from other grades.

With one notable exception heading for the Academy entrance.

The young man was a unique sight when compared to his surrounding peers. At 18 years old and standing at 180 cm, his hazel eyes, lanky build and short brown hair that darkened with length made him stick out from the crowd. While he wore the standard Kuoh Academy male's blazer and pants, he opted for a forest green undershirt and a silver pendant around his neck gifted to him by his late grandfather. True, he had gotten some admiring or even hungry looks, but quite a few more saw him as a rebel or a troublemaker who rejected the clean shaven uniformity of Japanese customs.

His personality had not really helped his perceived image, either. While normally very laid-back in his studies and mild in his approach to others, he was very protective of his personal possessions. A third-year boy had made to grab his pendant within his first week as part of an innocent prank, and he had almost punched the guy in response. He had apologized for the knee-jerk reaction, but a lot of people still gave him a wide berth after that incident.

Looking back, it was a wonder that he wasn't expelled, or at the very least reported, but the continued presence of the aptly-named Perverted Trio showed that one could do worse and remain free to roam. The isolation wasn't something he had hoped for when he came here, but he didn't necessarily hate it either; he was used to being by himself. He could do without all the nervous glances, though.

A year ago, he had joined the cultural exchange program at his school in the U.S., having set his sights on either Germany or Japan. When asked why those particular countries, he had cited a long running interest in their respective histories. For the longest time, there were no takers on his application. He didn't really mind, since it gave him more time to study and prepare.

Fast forward nine months, however, and he received a letter of recommendation for Kuoh Academy in central Japan. Luckily, by that time he had learned enough of the native language that he wouldn't seem like a hopeless tourist every minute of every day. The letter was written by a Dr. Zachariah Gregory, something he thought was unusual given that Gregory was nowhere near a Japanese name. For a foreigner to have such a presence in Japan, the man had to have friends in high places. After a bit of research, he found that Gregory was a business owner in Kuoh and a major benefactor for the academy, so the man's credentials seemed to check out.

At first, the young man had trouble connecting with people thanks to his appearance and the machinations of the grapevine. That changed, however, when he started making himself the bane of the Perverted Trio's existence for their… extracurricular activities. After sending them off with a warning the first time, he collaborated with the Tennis Club to make a game out of pelting the voyeurs with tennis balls if they were ever caught in the act of peeping. The game quickly took off and even led to the creation of a new competitive ranking board within the Tennis Club. This had earned him a fair amount of respect among the female members of the school, a budding friendship with the Tennis Club captain, Kiyome Abe, and, through word of mouth, a new reputation as something of a knight, ready to defend the dignity of his female classmates.

Not that it mattered what they called him; none of it was really correct anyway. He did it for his own amusement more than anything, but it surprised him how far the Tennis Club ran with it.

He could only shake his head as his thoughts carried him to and fro. He didn't believe it was possible for someone's public perception at a new school in a new country to make such a turn in the span that his did. Sadly, reveling in fond memories would have to wait for another time. School was starting for the day, and he was rather excited for it.

A small smile crossed on his lips. The irony of his circumstances didn't escape him. Timeless tradition dictated that he be back home, studying his craft, yet here he was getting his fill of the life of an exchange student.

He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the normalcy of his current routine.

---

The day came and went as those before had; some lessons were memorable, and some couldn't end sooner. Until, that is, the time came around for what was arguably his favorite course in the whole week: shodō, or calligraphy.

The current atmosphere of the classroom was one of peace and relative quiet, save for the occasional soft chatter as the students worked. Out of the twenty-five or so students of the entire 2-B class, he was the only male. While initially daunting, any concerns of isolation were rendered moot after the warm welcome he had received upon first arriving. At least the homeroom had been receptive of him.

Seated next to him was his unofficial senpai, Reya Kusaka.

Reya was a second-year member of the Student Council, and someone he could call his first genuine friend in Kuoh. Light brown eyes, and matching long hair done in twin braids and held with a blue headband framed a youthful face that beheld a gentle, soft-spoken soul. The standard uniform of Kuoh Academy she wore, with its white button-down shirt, black neck ribbon, shoulder cape, corset and magenta skirt, proudly displayed her growing figure, and in particular, her chest. More often than not, he found himself making conscious efforts to not stare at i-

"Connor?"

He blinked as Reya's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Huh? What?"

"Are you alright? You spaced out."

"Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry," he hurriedly apologized, embarrassed at his wandering mind. She did not need to know what it was he was thinking about.

"It's fine. Now, what does the overall message say?" In her hands was a sheet of paper with six kanji perfectly drawn and spread evenly across its surface in black ink.

'Eien… Nagare… and Taiga.'

""Eternally flowing river." It means that… you're at peace. Your hand flows as freely as the waters of a river. Is that it?" Reya liked to reference nature with a lot of her work, so this was a half-guess at best.

"You're right about the hand," she credited before correcting. "It also means that my mind is unbroken, free of distraction, thus allowing my hand to be so freely flowing."

"I'm sorry you have to teach this overgrown man-baby how to read and write," he sighed and slumped melodramatically.

Reya merely smiled at the joke. "It's no trouble. You're one of the only boys in the whole academy that shows an interest in calligraphy. All the others would rather join a sports club."

"With the exception of Matsuda, but we all know why he's in the Photo club."

"Why did you decide on calligraphy, Connor? Not that I'm unhappy that you did, but…" she trailed off, not wanting to pry too deep.

"No, it's fine." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. By this time, their conversation had garnered the attention of their nearest classmates as well. "First of all, I guess I wanted to improve my penmanship. If you've seen the way I write normally, you'll know that it's garbage. I'm hoping this will help with fixing it. As for clubs, well… with the way things are going back home, I don't know if I'm going to need to drop everything here and hurry back on a moment's notice. If that were to happen after I joined a sports club, or any club for that matter, I'd feel like I was letting the group down by ditching them."

Out of curiosity, he had wandered into the Kendo Club dojo a week after he had transferred. His new title had reached the whole school by this point, and the two co-captains, Mayu Katase and Setsuko Murayama, invited him for afternoon practice. Before he realized it, he had spent over three hours with the group, observing their routines and socializing with them in between segments. The club members were pleasantly surprised that he made for good company, and Katase asked if he would be interested in fully joining the club. To their disappointment, he declined, stating that he wanted to keep his options open for the time being, but would come by and visit every now and then.

"If it was an emergency, I'm sure they would understand," Reya reasoned.

He shrugged half-heartedly. "Maybe, but still, it's the principle."

"Fear of commitment, perhaps?" a teasing voice piped up beside them. With a roll of his eyes, he turned to the voice's owner, who was giving her trademark half-lidded dark gold eyes and broad grin.

Aika Kiryuu, the shameless female parallel to the Perverted Trio, and the one girl in the whole academy they were afraid to set their hormonal sights on. As he had heard, she was able to determine the size of a man's… equipment with a mere glance. It made her something of a deterrent to the three, since she often turned the tables on their antics, but her own behavior made it a hassle trying to speak with her normally.

"Pray tell, how does that factor in?" he asked dryly.

"Well, aside from the fact that you've turned down every club invitation in the past week, for someone that enjoys the company they keep, you're pretty secretive." She fixed her round-rimmed glasses as she continued. "You go out of your way to make sure that you stay alone outside of homeroom. On top of that, you've always got your nose buried in your little notebook. And every time somebody gets close, you snap it shut before anyone can see what's in it."

Never let it be said that Aika Kiryuu wasn't as observant as she was incorrigible.

"It's… complicated," he calmly answered.

"Really?" she asked, unconvinced. "Then why do you keep bringing it to school, where so many have the chance to see it? C'mon, gaijin, spill it. What's your secret? What is it that you're trying so hard to hide, hmm? Are you working on a doujinshi? An erotic doujinshi featuring your new schoolgirl fetish?" By this time, she had leaned toward him enough to where he could catch the faintest hint of lilac.

With an annoyed huff, he put two fingers to her forehead and pushed her away. "Keep dreaming, chijo."

"Okay," she chirped without missing a beat. He hadn't meant it as a challenge, but perhaps the tone he had used made it come off as one. He just knew he'd come to regret saying anything to her.

With a sigh, he turned back to Reya, who simply nodded in understanding and began another drawing. Such was his daily life: slowly settling in, making new friends, and learning a language within a language, all the while trying to maintain personal space from a nosy pervert.

'Not what I was expecting to be doing abroad.'

---

The Student Council Room of Kuoh Academy, located on the second floor of the main school building, was ordinarily a quiet place. What used to be an old conference room was gutted, repainted, and carpeted to give a quaint sense of authority, and the two large windows overlooking the school courtyard only completed the perception. Against the wall opposite to the windows sat a large desk with documents and utensils organized neatly on its surface, and spaced out in the center of the room, work desks and accompanying chairs faced each other in pairs.

Sōna Shitori, or Sona Sitri as her inner circle knew her, was leaning back comfortably in a cushioned chair in the farthest corner from the door. At first glance, she was a very austere young woman in both appearance and expression, black hair styled in a short bob cut with a gold pin over her left ear, violet eyes, and wearing the standard Kuoh Academy girls' uniform with nary a fiber out of place and magenta-rimmed glasses. Sitting across the chess table from her was her childhood friend and rival, Rias Gremory.

With pearly skin and turquoise eyes, Rias was a beauty of seemingly Western origin that stood only slightly taller than Sona. Her long, crimson hair perfectly framed her face at the front and reached down to her thighs at the back, and her mature, buxom figure was almost too good to be considered real. Like her friend, she wore the Kuoh Academy girls' uniform, but the outfit only accentuated her already impressive proportions.

"I believe this game is mine, Sona," said Rias confidently as she moved her knight piece.

"Are you sure about that, Rias?" Sona retorted as she moved her bishop to trap her opponent's king between two of her last pieces and against two of Rias' own. Any move Rias could make next would only result in defeat for her.

Rias clicked her tongue at the Zugzwang that her old friend had placed her in. "I could have sworn I had you this time."

"Of course you did, and that was your mistake," Sona replied, not even trying to hide her satisfaction.

"I want to say I was distracted by other things, like that group of squandering Fallen," Rias sulked.

"Speaking of which, how are you coming with that? I know you said you would handle it, but I want to make sure," Sona inquired.

"Well enough, I think," the Gremory heiress replied, running a hand through her hair. "They haven't done anything yet, but one of them just asked out Hyōdō Issei, based on what Koneko tells me. The date is set for this Sunday evening."

"I see," said Sona evenly as she fixed her glasses. She knew that the boy in question had a Sacred Gear, hence Rias' interest in him, but she didn't understand why Rias would even think about going to such measures for a potential recruit. Her friend had reasoned that she wanted to see what the trespassing Angels were up to, but the ends didn't justify the means. It wasn't like her at all to use someone as bait.

"You're not jealous, are you?" Rias asked with a challenging smirk.

Sona lightly scoffed. "Hardly. Issei Hyōdō has potential, but his perversity is far too troublesome for my tastes. Besides, I already have my eye on someone else that will be more fitting for my peerage," she finished with a small smile.

The black-haired Devil heiress was fully aware that there was something special about the American exchange student. It wasn't because of a Sacred Gear he had, because he didn't; she had checked and her Bishop, Reya, had confirmed it. But for whatever reason, her thoughts drifted to him frequently of late. Ordinarily, she wouldn't act rashly based on simple emotions, but this was a feeling that was difficult to ignore, despite her best efforts. It didn't help that, over the course of his time at the academy, several members of her peerage had taken a different sort of interest in him, particularly Reya, Tomoe and Tsubaki, even if the latter of the three wouldn't admit to her own.

She found it curious why he was in the second-year course when he was the same age as Rias and herself in the third-year. From what he explained to her on their first meeting, he had been removed from public school for about a year in America due to urgent family matters in his childhood. In that time, he was more privately educated by his grandfather.

Sona could understand very well why the students in 2-B were happy with Connor. He was a rare kind of gentleman: Quiet, mild-mannered, and a good listener, despite his reported tendency to get lost in thought. She could count on one hand the number of men at Kuoh she knew with similar characteristics. If she were honest with herself, Sona could see in Connor nearly everything she wanted in a member of her peerage.

Rias noticed the forlorn look in her friend's eye, which was something she didn't see very much of in recent years. She couldn't hold back a smirk when she asked, "Really? This someone wouldn't happen to be Kuoh's newest Knight, would it, Sona? You only just reincarnated someone today, didn't you?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps not, but don't get any ideas, Rias. My new pawn, Saji, came to me of his own free will. I allowed you to scout Hyōdō, so leave my prospects be, whoever they are," Sona replied flatly. She knew that only Rias' Rook seemed to honestly like Connor, if only because he didn't bother her like the other boys did, while everyone else in her peerage was ambivalent to him. Furthermore, Rias had a tendency to go out of her way to spoil her servants. Sona wouldn't put it past her friend to try and bring someone into her peerage merely to make an existing member happy.

Not that the thought hadn't crossed her own mind before, but as the saying went, "Act in haste, repent at leisure." Sona took pride in being careful of who she selected for candidates.

Rias pouted at her friend's blunt answer. "Oh, fine, be that way. Anyway, I should be going. I'll need to make some preparations. Good game, again." She stood up and ushered herself out, not noticing the small smile of relief from Sona.

Despite being her best friend, she was glad that the redhead wasn't going to press on the matter.

---

Two days later found Connor in casual jeans, sneakers and a light red t-shirt taking his time going the long way home. Normally, he would weave through the commercial district to quickly get to his apartment, but it was Sunday, so he wanted to enjoy the more scenic sights of the town before getting metaphorically locked in prison for another five and a half days. This was perfect fishing weather, dammit!

In his left hand were two flyers; one of which Reya had given him before he left school on Friday. He had forgotten to take it out of his blazer pocket the whole weekend, but remembered its presence after meeting a young woman in a bat-themed red and white maid outfit handing similarly designed flyers out earlier in the day. It was here that he received the second one. He read the words "Your wish will come true" with a sardonic smirk. Based on what he knew about wishes, they were never worth it. Be it by a genie, fairy godparents, a monkey's paw or whatever else, wishes always corrupted and twisted themselves back upon the wisher in one way or another.

Reya had tried to excuse the flyer as part of a project that she and a friend of hers were undertaking, but Connor knew what it was really for: it was a dime-a-dozen Devil's contract. The symbols inside the multi-layered circles were unintelligible to him, but the layout of the symbols reminded him of summoning circles he had seen in the past. Decoding and comparing the two diagrams would make for an interesting case study.

His smile faded as he looked back up to continue admiring his surroundings. He didn't regret taking up the lifestyle that he did, but he could understand what his father meant by treating magecraft with a level of moderation. Obsessing over it left little time to enjoy life.

As he passed by the park a few blocks away from his apartment, Connor noticed a couple standing by the fountain. One was a girl that he hadn't seen before, but the other was someone he knew almost too well. Issei Hyōdō, the self-proclaimed 'Harem King of Kuoh.' The most perplexing thing about the sight was the fact that the girl wasn't recoiling in disgust at the pervert. In fact, she was… holding his hands?

Those hands?

"Okay… what?" he mumbled. As casually as possible, he strode to within hearing distance then exchanged the flyers for his phone, pretending to receive a text. Glancing to the couple, he discerned the unknown girl to be the Yuuma Amano that Issei had been bragging about all of Friday afternoon. He didn't buy it at the time, believing that the kid was just screwing with his friends, but there they were, plain as day.

He had to admit, she was attractive in a cutesy way: a pretty face with violet eyes and framed by long black hair, a well-developed figure held in by a pink blouse, black skirt and black shoes, and on her wrist was a pink scrunchy bracelet. The look in her eyes said that she was genuinely enjoying her time with the boy. Whether or not she knew of his status as the 'Harem King' didn't seem to be a factor. Meanwhile, Issei –sporting a light grey button-down shirt and darker grey pants– looked like he was walking on the moon, simply overjoyed at being so close to a girl without suffering bodily harm. Connor was actually somewhat happy for his underclassman; a real girl to set him straight was just what he needed.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so Connor pocketed his phone and made to walk away. At least until he heard Yuuma ask, "Could you die for me?" He turned in their direction, wondering if he'd heard her correctly. It was a bizarre question to ask somebody you barely knew. Issei must have thought that as well, but when he asked for clarification, all he got in response was a mature, malevolent voice uttering the same words, "Could you die for me?"

Yuuma suddenly leapt back and was engulfed in a flash of light. As the light died out, it revealed a now slightly taller woman, but with much darker purple eyes, and a fully mature body that was barely kept covered by leather straps and metallic rings. She now resembled something one would see in an S&M porn movie. Two feathered wings as black as night jutted from her back, all but confirming her existence as a Fallen Angel.

'What the hell?! What are they doing here?'

"I would say that I'm sorry about this, Issei, but I'm not," she mocked the stunned teen. "While it was nice playing around with you, I'm a busy woman and I have orders to kill you. If you want someone to blame for this, blame God for putting that Sacred Gear in you. Oh, and my name is Raynare." A red spear of light manifested in her hand as she finished.

From his newly-acquired position behind a tree, Connor witnessed everything, wondering why Issei wasn't running for his life.

"Oppai! Honmono no oppai!"

Sadly, it seemed Issei either forgot or was completely ignoring the situation. Connor stared in disbelief that that was actually the first response from Issei. In that moment of hesitation, Raynare struck.

"Ugh, creepy little…" Raynare wrinkled her nose in disgust before hurling her weapon at her victim.

The spear of light flew true, piercing the boy's chest, then vanished, leaving only a gaping hole where his left pulmonary artery had previously met his heart. It would take mere minutes for him to bleed out; no amount of help would save him.

"Fuck!" Connor silently cursed as Issei collapsed. Fortunately for him, Raynare didn't seem to notice since she continued to watch Issei as he futilely struggled to breathe. Taking cover behind the tree, his eyes clenched in anger.

'Dammit! Why didn't I-'

"That's just sloppy, Raynare. Did you really expect to cut corners and get away with it?" A deep male voice reprimanded as its origin casually walked out from the tree line. Peeking from around the tree, Connor saw that it was a middle-aged man, or at least he appeared that way from a distance, with black hair and blue eyes. His attire consisted of pants, shoes and gloves all in black, a white dress shirt, a gray trench coat, and a white ascot and black fedora to finish the hitman look.

"Dohnaseek? Were you shadowing me?" Raynare demanded.

"Yes, I was. And I must say, I am aghast at what I just saw," the newly dubbed Dohnaseek scolded while counting off on his fingers. "You didn't wait until the sun went down, didn't set up a barrier to keep prying eyes away, and didn't even check for witnesses, much less notice that the human hiding behind that tree over there saw the entire thing!"

Connor's blood ran cold when the man pointed in his direction. He'd been found out. Before he could think any further, he forced himself away from the tree just as a blue light spear impaled the exact spot where his back had been flush against it. The spear almost immediately vanished, leaving a fist-sized hole in the tree's trunk. That would've been a lethal hit regardless of anything that happened afterward.

Dohnaseek continued his rant while Raynare looked at the boy in surprise. "You call yourself a senior field agent, and yet you pull stupid shit like this? It makes me wonder just how many of your previous reports have been falsified to cover your own ass."

"Shut up, you pedantic old prick!" an indignant Raynare rounded on him.

While Connor collected himself, two more figures strode out next to the male Fallen. The first was a short blue-eyed girl with blonde hair done in twin tails. She wore a gothic Lolita dress with a green jewel embedded in the collar, complete with a frilly headpiece and stockings. Beside her was a tall woman with waist length blue hair and amber eyes. She had a much more matured figure that was emphasized by a wide-collared burgundy coat and miniskirt, black high heels, and a small gold necklace. The two seemed either disinterested or frustrated upon arrival, but Connor noticed the older woman perk up when she made eye contact with him.

"Mittelt, Kalawarner, did you follow me, too?" Raynare suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"Nah, we followed Dohnaseek," the blonde Fallen nonchalantly replied while inspecting her nails. "So, we gotta kill this guy, too? Meh, okay," she shrugged before manifesting a pink spear in her hand and grinned at Connor.

The tall bluenette didn't say anything out loud, but between her glowering and muttering, Connor could only surmise that she really didn't want to be there. This surprised him at first, but maybe he could use this to his advantage. It was a shot in the dark, but if he could talk at least one of them out of it…

"What's with that look, Kalawarner? He's a living witness. Come on," Raynare ordered. Kalawarner glared back at her like she had just been spat on.

Connor noticed this dissent and opened his mouth to speak again before he narrowly dodged another blue spear flying toward him. The blade tore his sleeve as he leaned away, barely missing his skin and embedding itself into a different tree before disappearing. He turned back while he straightened his stance again, identifying his attacker as the male Fallen.

"Good reflexes," Dohnaseek complimented while creating another light spear. "Such a shame, really. You should have just stayed away."

With a roar, he leaped into the air to attack from above. Connor dove to the right to avoid the strike, dirt and dust sent flying from the Fallen Angel's strike. He barely had time to duck as another swing made to decapitate him. As the dust settled, he jumped toward Dohnaseek and pushed away the lance, putting himself behind the killing range of his attacker.

While Dohnaseek's spear gave him great melee range, his use of it left a zone of vulnerability in his immediate front and back. Connor's only chance was to exploit that.

He blocked, dodged and redirected swipe after swipe, trying to come up with a plan. He had left most of his runestones at the apartment, which was a stupid move in hindsight, and he couldn't set or draw any runes around him with this man's wide swings. And on top of all that, if his shirt was any clue, then the runes he had inscribed on his clothes weren't enough to protect him against their weapons. What a train wreck! This dance went on for about twenty seconds before his attacker got impatient.

"Damn it all! Hold still, you little monkey!" Dohnaseek snapped, thrusting forward to eviscerate his target. With only a fraction of a second to spare, Connor's hand shot forward and grabbed the spear from behind the blade. The Fallen Angel tried to pull and jerk his weapon away, but the teen's grip held. Had he been paying close attention, Dohnaseek would have seen a brief, orange glow between the boy's fingers. What he did see, though, was the spear shaft crumpling with a metallic groan under a tightening grip. Then, a slow twist of the human's wrist bent the spearhead upward, almost perpendicular to the ground.

"I-impossible!"

"Ah, fuck it," Connor snarled.

With force, he tore off the spear head and gripped the broken shaft section like one would hold a hatchet. What followed was a series of wild swings and relentless advances that put Dohnaseek on the defensive. Strike after strike sent sparks flying as the weapon repeatedly collided with what used to be its other half. After about thirty seconds of this assault, a powerful final blow sent Dohnaseek staggering backward. It was a prime opportunity, but not enough that he could capitalize with his makeshift axe, so Connor discarded it and held his hand over his right shoulder, palm facing his head.

In a vortex of blue magical energy, a long sword manifested in his hand. The keen double-edged blade stretched slightly over a full meter in length, and its glowing red steel appeared almost alive with energy. With no guard to speak of, other than a flared base held securely by overlapping metal bands, the long hilt suggested that the sword was constructed to act as a two-handed weapon. A final note of intrigue was the much shorter, slender blade affixed to the pommel of the weapon. While certainly sharp, the smaller blade acted as more of a counterweight than a true cutting edge. (1)

Dohnaseek stared for a moment in surprise as the human brought his saber to bear. "A magician?"

"Magus," was the terse reply.

The Fallen's brow furrowed in confusion before he shook it off. He turned to his compatriots with a scowl. "Hey! What are you waiting for?! Get over here and help me!"

"Why? You're the one he's after." The blonde Fallen, Mittelt, was content to stand back and watch. She must have been one of those people that got a kick out of seeing someone like Dohnaseek struggle, and found it even funnier since a human was making him do it.

"Get the fuck over yourself, Mittelt! The rest of you, too! I do not need to tell you what will happen if he leaves here alive! Now get over here, or I'll kill you all myself and write you off as dead weight!" Dohnaseek roared, pretty well fed up with everything and everyone.

Connor grimaced. Fighting one on one with a supernatural being was difficult enough as it was. With four on one, his chances of survival hit rock bottom. No matter how many he could take down, there was no way he was leaving the park alive. Unless…

As the argument ensued, no one noticed Connor quietly lower his weapon to hide his left hand as it rummaged through his pocket. From it, he retrieved a red runestone no wider than a 1 yen coin but as thick as ten of them put together. It was only one of three he had on him, and this one was the only one of its particular function at the moment.

He had never tried using that before, but he had no other options now. It had to work!

"Hey!" he barked, grabbing everyone's attention. Taking advantage of the distraction, he flicked the runestone into the air between the Angels and ducked down, covering his ears and slamming his eyes shut. All eyes were on the airborne stone for a half second until it erupted in a blinding flash of light and concussive burst of sound.

"AAAAHHH!"

"MY EYES!"

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

The blast from the magecraft equivalent of a flashbang grenade had hurt Connor's ears as well, though not nearly as bad as it would have been in a tight space, but now he had a window of opportunity. With all his assailants blinded and stumbling around for a good few seconds, he had bought himself time to enact his plan. Fighting past the roaring tinnitus, he brought down his left hand and, using his index finger like a stylus, drew runes on the ground before him in rapid succession.

'Algiz! Nauthiz! Ansuz! Inguz!'

With a swipe of his hand, the effects of the sequence set in, and he felt himself freeze as a primal sense of fear took hold. Now he understood why his grandfather had expressly forbidden him from invoking this curse. It felt like… something was standing right behind him, leaning over him and breathing down his neck, but even that seemed to downplay the sensation of terror. His whole body was screaming at him to fight and kill the black-winged man in order to make the thing behind him go away. It took a considerable effort to stop himself from charging ahead and doing just that.

The Fallen all seemed to feel the effects, too. Dohnaseek tensed and he frantically looked behind him with widened eyes, and the women all jumped and scrambled away from them while dispelling their weapons. Connor let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding. "It worked."

"What the hell did you do?!" the man yelled.

"Ath nGabla," he answered, his hearing slowly coming back to him. "A curse that invokes one-on-one combat, used among the Knights of the Red Branch. With this, retreat is no longer an option, and neither is refusal to fight. You and I are in this to the death, with no outside interference." The magus then glanced to the newly made spectators. "Sorry, ladies."

As much as he wanted to make a break for it while they were impaired, he knew that any one of them could catch up and kill him from a distance. At least this way, he had a marginal chance of surviving the encounter by forcing them to fight one at a time.

'Although, Ath nGabla isn't supposed to make you feel like you're being hunted. Right? I must've screwed up somewhere in there.'

The reactions were varied: Raynare and Mittelt were befuddled, Kalawarner was shocked that someone in this day and age even knew what Ath nGabla was, and Dohnaseek seemed within moments of going nuclear.

"Don't think that will save you. Know your place!" Dohnaseek bellowed as he surged forward. Connor assumed a defensive stance and braced for impact.

---

Rias Gremory couldn't believe what she was seeing.

She had been summoned by the flyer in Issei Hyōdō's pocket, only to find him half dead with a hole in his chest while the sounds of steel clashing against steel rang throughout the park. Curiously, she went to investigate, and found a magic barrier of simple construction. It took little effort to stealthily breach it, but she was not prepared for what was within. Like a sequence from an action film, the academy's American exchange student, Connor Lochlainn, was armed with a large red sword and trading blows with a Fallen Angel in a gray trench coat, both combatants tearing up the ground around them as they dueled. Three other Fallen hovered around the pair, keeping their eyes both on the duel and the barrier they had set up. Luckily for her, they were more focused on the former.

As the fight carried on, she noticed something strange. Connor wasn't losing any ground to his opponent. Based on what she knew about him already, Rias didn't take Connor to be anything special. It shouldn't be possible for a normal human to hold their own against a Fallen Angel. Unless he was a descendant of a hero or something similar.

But then she saw, running along the length of his arms, symbols of some kind, glowing with all the colors of fire. Her eyes widened in realization; he was strengthening himself through rune magic!

'He's a magician!' she concluded. 'How did we not notice earlier? Wait, does Sona know? If she does, then… then it would make sense why she would be tight-lipped about it. She gets a magician who's ahead of the curve, while I get a guaranteed Sacre-'

And that thought brought her back to reality. As much as she wanted to see how this would turn out, Issei was almost out of time. If she stuck around any longer, she would lose her opportunity to reincarnate the boy. There was too much at stake for her to waste any more time and lose someone that she didn't doubt would help her with her problem.

With one last apologetic glance back at the battle, Rias slipped away and returned to the bloodied teen on the grass, retrieving a small box from her pocket.

"Don't worry, I'll pick you up. From now on, you will live for me."

---

The battle had raged for five whole minutes, and both combatants were in bad shape.

Every move made by one combatant was perfectly matched by the other for the first two minutes; Connor's unorthodox swordsmanship against Dohnaseek's experience and natural strength. Neither took their eyes off the other, and the weapons in their hands sang into the night sky as they either sliced through the air or collided with the other. Over time, however, Connor was beginning to show signs of fatigue; his movements were slowing down and he was taking heavier breaths during the brief respites in the duel. He had, however, scored several good cuts on his adversary, despite taking a very distracting gash to his own left arm and a jarring blunt strike to his left cheek.

The two men broke away from a lock, and jumped back to catch their breath.

Dohnaseek inhaled deeply, then straightened his back. "That's it! THAT'S IT! I am through playing by your little game!"

"Playing? You're breathing just as hard as I am," Connor quipped.

"Shut your fucking mouth, human! I will gut you like a fish!" Dohnaseek spat as he poured more light magic into his weapon. This had the effect of broadening the head and sprouting even more cutting edges.

Connor said nothing more, but merely heaved a sigh and broke his ready stance. Standing up straight, he closed his eyes and let his arms relax to his sides.

While initially confused by the change in posture, Dohnaseek was too angry to give it a second thought. If this whelp was giving up, who was he to deny the death he welcomed? He just wanted to be done with this crap!

Connor's eyes snapped open, revealing formerly hazel rings to be a bright green, or so it seemed. If one looked closely enough, they would see tiny waves of white slowly dancing around inside the iris, almost blending the respective bands of light brown and blue on the inside and outside edges.

In an instant of eye contact, he saw Dohnaseek's intention. More specifically, to use a burst of speed to lunge forward on the ground, pierce his abdomen, twist the spear, and violently rip out every possible organ. With that, he had discerned all of the Fallen's possible trajectories, and chose a proper counter for the most likely one.

True to his intent, Dohnaseek lunged forward and thrust at Connor's stomach, never once looking away from his target. The killing blow wasn't meant to be, however, as Connor suddenly twisted his body to evade and raised his right foot to stomp on the incoming spear, slamming it into the dirt and throwing Dohnaseek off balance. Taking his chance, Connor reversed his grip on his sword and forced Dohnaseek onto his knees while he swung himself around to stand over the man.

With all the force he could muster, he drove his blade downward and impaled his opponent's torso. Blood splattered both on the ground and on Connor's face with a gruesome spray as the tip of Connor's weapon emerged through Dohnaseek's sternum and stabbed the dirt below them. The Fallen Angel barely had time to gasp from the pain of a severed spine and trachea before his life ceased.

Slowly, the magus withdrew his sword from his defeated enemy. As the body settled, the sense of impending death in his head finally stopped. The conditions of Ath nGabla were now met, freeing him from its curse. Wiping his mouth and eyes free of blood, he stood up straight and addressed his audience.

"Next?"

Nobody said anything for several seconds, the female Fallen all seeming to still process what had just happened.

"T-There's no way… How did– !" Raynare's panic was short lived when she noticed the boy's expression and heavy breathing. "Keh, doesn't matter! You're still going to die!"

"No, I think we're done here."

"Wha-" The sound of steel crashing against skull silenced the brunette Fallen. She crumpled to the ground in a unconscious heap, and standing behind her was Kalawarner, that same look of disdain present on her face and a light spear held like a blunt object in her hands.

"Kala! What the hell ar-"

"Shut up, Mittelt!" Kalawarner roared, then turned back to Connor with an intimidating glare, only somewhat disconcerted by those luminous orbs. "Of all people capable of killing a Fallen Angel with a single blow, I didn't expect it to be a Gear-less human." She clicked her tongue as she gestured to Raynare. "You're lucky that this idiot overstepped her bounds, otherwise we would have been within rights to kill you immediately after."

"I was defending myself."

"Regardless if it was self-defense, an accident or aggravated murder, you still killed Dohnaseek. The Grigori takes the deaths of its operatives very seriously. There will be consequences for this, but not tonight. I have her mess to clean up," she grumbled while picking up the limp body of Raynare none too gently. She then looked to Mittelt, who hadn't moved from where she stood. "Mittelt, pick up Dohnaseek, we're leaving."

"Wha- b-but he's weak, we can-"

"Now!" The roar made Mittelt jump, and she hastily gathered up the male Fallen's corpse before taking flight. Kalawarner turned, giving one last baleful glance towards Connor, then lifted off to follow her companion into the air, both quickly disappearing from sight.

When he could no longer hear the sound of wing-beats, he sighed in relief and dropped to his knees. His grip on his sword relaxed as he brought it back over his shoulder and allowed it to disperse like mist into the wind. Not ten seconds later, the adrenaline surging through his veins was cut off, and he clenched his teeth and hissed. His now normal eyes stung, as they typically did when he employed their higher use. No matter how often he practiced with them, there was always the awful stinging pain that flared from behind his eyes once he turned them off. Worse still, the aftereffects were proportionate in their use; the longer he held his Mystic Eyes active, the longer he was effectively blind afterward.

To his frustration, he didn't have the special equipment needed to learn the reason for that by himself, so he couldn't build a Mystic Code to counter the effects. It wasn't exactly something he could go to an optometrist about. For the time being, his only working solution was to use them as sparingly as possible.

After a few minutes of fighting to see again, he looked to his wounds to assess the damage. The gash he had sustained on his upper arm was still bleeding, though it was luckily not very deep. Shifting his weight to his right leg and twisting his arm so that the elbow faced forward, he lifted his right hand and drew runes across the wound with his index finger.

'Laguz, Sowilo, Mannaz.'

His teeth clenched even tighter as the runic spell set to work, slowly stretching the lacerated skin and underlying blood vessels into their proper place, then sealing them shut in a light yellow hue. Comparatively speaking, the pain of the procedure was similar to getting stitches under a weak anesthesia. When he first used the spell on himself years ago, it felt like someone was pulling the skin together with hot tweezers. The ugly scar on his shin was his reminder to never use himself as a medical experiment again.

By the end of it, a light purple scar no wider than a pencil lie contrasting against the surrounding healthy skin. Hopefully, no one he knew would notice the sudden appearance of a scar that wasn't there before. Especially Aika.

With the danger over for the moment, he thought back to the fight and cringed at the egregious risks he'd just taken tonight. They were many in number, but the biggest was even getting into this situation in the first place! He knew better, he'd been taught better, than to charge headlong into a fight that he shouldn't be able to win, not knowing at all what to expect, and yet he acted on little more than impulse after adrenaline-fueled impulse. Now he'd made himself a target to the damn Grigori! Like he didn't have enough problems to deal with!

"Fuckin' hell," he grumbled as he stood up and approached the spot where Issei had fallen. Only to find it empty of a body, a pool of blood being the only evidence that something was ever there.

Confused, he looked to the fountain, then back to the patch. Issei had dropped right there, he was sure of it. There were no bloody streaks in the grass or on the sidewalk, so he hadn't been dragged away. At the same time, though, there were no random droplets around the pool from being carried away, nor were there any scorch marks to attest possible destruction of the body.

'The only way somebody could move a fresh corpse without leaving a trail would be to… teleport it away, and that's…'

His brow furrowed as he pulled out the parchment paper from his pocket. The pieces fell together in an instant. While he was fighting Dohnaseek, some Devil or another had come along and reincarnated the half-dead brunette, likely to lay claim to whatever Sacred Gear it was that Raynare had mentioned earlier.

"Vultures," he spat. They had to have been watching the pervert for some time if they were so quick to act. Logically speaking, he had no way of knowing who had done it, or where they had taken the body. Even if he did, though, it wouldn't matter; Issei was now somebody's property.

With a slow start, the exhausted magus began the trek back to his apartment, but not before picking up the spent flashbang rune as well as several black feathers that Dohnaseek had lost during their fight. He'd have to ramp up his security measures as soon as possible; new Bounded Field around the apartment, update his sensory runes to detect Fallen from a distance, maybe come up with a sequence that could react negatively to Fallen flesh…

But before any of that, he had to study his source material. Sadly, there was only so much one could with just feathers.

"It's going to be a long night," he sighed tiredly. "I might not even be functional enough for school tomorrow. Shit."

As he trudged home, he failed to notice a figure curiously watching him from atop a telephone pole down the street.

"Oh my~" they cooed before vanishing in a red magic circle.

---

…

(1): For visual reference, the sword is styled loosely after the Reforged Gram that Sigurd in Fate/Grand Order uses.

…

Notes:

What began as a challenge fic and a rewrite of my first attempt at fanfiction in late 2020 on FF.net became a full-fledged story at the request of a gracious and supportive community. Unfortunately, FF.net's formatting didn't allow me to include everything that I wanted to include for the story, so that's where this version comes in. I'll upload chapters here as I get them edited from the original version, and you're welcome to see how it has evolved there over the course of its life.
If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 2: Consequences

…

…

…

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Connor was wrested from blissful slumber by his accursed phone alarm from across the room. With restrained fury and body aches everywhere, he forced himself out of bed to turn off the alarm and give his ears a moment of peace.

5:45 A.M…

Two hours of sleep was NOT ENOUGH!

Fighting off the temptation to throw his phone at the wall then throw himself back into bed, he gathered enough coherent thought to remember why he was so upset this early in the morning.

Last night had to be one of the worst in his entire life. He had happened upon a crime scene of supernatural origin, fought for his life against a Fallen Angel, killed said Fallen, and now had to contend with the looming threat the bluenette Fallen had delivered before leaving. It was only after he got home that the shock of having actually killed someone and the stress of everything else came crashing down all at once, sending him into a cold sweat and a vomiting fit. He couldn't leave the toilet for another half hour.

The shower he took after ridding his stomach's contents cleaned off his body, but did little to ease his addled mind. Drawing himself a bath and just sitting in the warm water proved to be effective once he was certain he wouldn't be stewing in blood and dirt. He spent almost an hour in the tub, letting the encompassing warmth provide a comfort that he hadn't experienced in years, giving himself time to think calmly about his current situation and drum up a plan. By the third time he had almost nodded off in the bathwater, however, he figured it was time to get out and get busy.

The plan he had come up with was simple: bunker down. He had no idea if the three females were the only ones, or if there were others lying in wait. They also knew his face, so they would be able to pick him out easily. Defense was his only real option.

The Fallen's mention of "not tonight" had been his only hint of reprieve, so he had to prepare while he could. The rest of the night, well past two 'o clock in the morning, was spent drawing up security measures: Reinforcing every wall plus the floor and ceiling of his apartment, magic sensor runes at the front door and around the balcony, and he would have to finish the Bounded Field set around the whole complex later in the week. By the time he had finished what he could, his home was more secure from outside attack than a one-bedroom apartment had any right to be.

Sifting through his grandfather's notebook had yielded some interesting finds that, prior to last night, he had been hesitant to try. Now, however, there was no more room for timidity. The biggest problem was that most of the contents inside were never tested: complex runic sequences, Mystic Code formulae, thaumaturgical theories, and even experimental summoning diagrams were all left to gather dust after his grandfather suffered a massive stroke at age sixty-eight. Either that, or he just wrote down the results of his work somewhere else upon testing them years ago. It didn't make sense why that would be the case, but a lot of what Donovan Lochlainn did in his later years made him difficult to understand.

The strengthening runes Connor had used against Dohnaseek were something his father, Kellen, had insisted on applying before he went overseas. They acted as a double shot of adrenaline to the muscles in his arms and chest, making them very effective in a pinch. The big drawback, however, was that they were magical energy guzzlers that left his whole upper body aching from the strain of overuse.

That was where the new series of runes he placed on himself would come in. In addition to inscribing smaller rune sequences and strengthening certain specific areas of his body for short bursts only, there were others that would bolster his body's overall performance a little bit at a time by providing a form of resistance and making the body work harder to move. These required magical energy as well, though not as much as the adrenal runes, and the consumption rate would be spread out over the course of hours. His use of the runic sword would especially benefit from this improvised system.

Like many of Donovan's projects and experiments, Connor didn't know if his grandfather had actually finished the runic sword he created. The man had simply bound it to the Lochlainn Magic Crest shortly after its transplant onto Connor, didn't say a word about it other than how to summon it, and then died from his stroke not even a month later. Connor found the weapon to be clumsy and top-heavy, but it was his grandfather's last gift to him, so he'd be caught dead before letting it waste away. It took years for he and his father to come up with a suitable fighting form, which would eventually become what Connor used in the fight.

As far as any clothing went, the runes he had already placed on them kept his magical energy output camouflaged against his surroundings, but for some reason didn't hold up against attack. Unless Dohnaseek's light spears had a means of piercing or negating magic-based defenses, the runes should have also made his clothes function like chain mail. And yet, they didn't. The fabric was cleanly cut; no snags or rips, just a single slice. As such, he'd have to dig through the notes again to figure out where he went wrong in reinforcing his clothing and start from scratch. He could feel the encroaching headache just thinking about it.

At around 4:00 in the morning, he was finally ready to call it quits.

Within seconds of his head touching the pillow, he was sound asleep.

But now, morning had come, and with it, a reminder that the word 'hell' starts with an 'M' and ends with a 'Y'.

Begrudgingly, he trudged to the bathroom to start cleaning and freshening up. A splash of cold water to the face jolted him awake and allowed his eyes a good look at himself.

If the state of his face was anything to go by, he both looked and felt like crap. He looked like he hadn't slept in several days as opposed to one night. His left cheek where Dohnaseek had struck him with the blunt end of his spear was still slightly swollen, partially forcing his left eye shut, and the color was already shifting from an angry red to a grisly purple.

"One thing after another," he mumbled.

As it stood, the bruise would draw attention that he just couldn't prevent. At the very least, though, he could cover it to keep from making every passerby wretch in disgust. Fishing around in the medicine cabinet, he found a roll of medical tape and some gauze. He cut the tape into strips, then set the gauze over the most discolored area and applied the strips across it. It would do nothing to protect against another hit to that area, but that was fine. He didn't plan on touching it anytime soon anyway.

He still looked like crap, but he would be passable in public now.

Checking the clock on the kitchen wall, he noted that there was still plenty of time to wrap up his morning routine and head for the academy with a few minutes to spare. A simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and leftover genmai, then quickly suiting up in the school uniform and packing his lunch. On his way out the door, he made sure to take an assortment of runestones as well as a few mana storage gems from the end table at his bedside. He refused to be caught off guard like last night again. (1)

The walk to the academy was uneventful, which gave him time to think about how this whole ordeal would play out. Doubtless, people were going to stare. It's not every day you see someone with a patch over his face, partially covering one eye. For the next two weeks or so, though, he'd just have to deal with it.

Had he been paying attention to anything but directly in front of him, Connor would have noticed the pair of grey eyes casting a curious gaze his way from a nearby street vendor.

---

Kuoh Academy's old schoolhouse, a two-story wooden building with a third-story clock tower and seemingly overtaken by trees and vines, stood as a stark contrast to its newer, more lavish counterpart. If one were to venture inside, however, they would find that the interior of the building was surprisingly well-maintained. Refurbished wooden walls and paneling, fully restored meeting and guest rooms, and atmospheric lighting arrangement gave the impression that the building was never truly forgotten. How fitting, then, that the abandoned dormitory was considered the home and base of operation for its full-time inhabitants of the Occult Research Club.

Rias Gremory, club president of the ORC and heiress to the Gremory household, sat at her desk in the main meeting room, deep in thought about recent events.

She liked to consider herself a reasonable Devil. Not like the ones from the days of old whose cruelty and intolerance drove her brother and his allies in the New Satan Faction to remove them from power in the Underworld. With the Four Satans in charge and keeping the peace, the Devils had a chance at saving themselves from extinction through Lord Beelzebub's Evil Piece system.

There were rules in place for the use of Evil Pieces –written, unspoken or otherwise self-imposed– but there was also room to abuse the system as well. Forcible reincarnation often led to servants rebelling and turning Stray, something the Gremory fought tooth and nail to prevent happening for its entire history. Yet, despite her confidence in Issei's ultimate choice, given his personality, she found herself dreading the upcoming conversation regarding his new life.

She tapped her finger against the desk as she thought back to last night's discussion.

–––––

Her plan hadn't turned out the way she wanted.

Rias had just finished healing the fatal wound on her new Pawn, Issei Hyōdō, and was gathering up her belongings to head back to the club room. The circumstances behind his reincarnation were horrible; he'd been outright assassinated by his supposed date, and unknowingly summoned her with his last conscious thought. She would have preferred that he join her peerage of his own free will. This situation reminded her too much of what had happened with her other servants: near death and desperate for somebody –anybody– to save them.

She didn't hesitate to use her remaining Evil Pieces to reincarnate him. It was her fault that he died, so she owed him that much. To her surprise, however, it ended up requiring all 8 of her pawn pieces for the ritual to take effect. Whatever his Sacred Gear was, it had to be enormously powerful. She couldn't deny that underlying sense of giddiness at the prospect of having a powerful new member of her little family.

While she had gotten a new servant, however, she now had another issue to consider. Connor, the exchange student that had become something of a minor celebrity at school, was engaged in battle with a Fallen Angel, and was apparently adept in magic. In the time she had stayed to watched the fight, it looked like Connor even had the upper hand. Upon reincarnating Issei, she had contacted Akeno and ordered her to see out the remainder of the fight, then report back at the club room.

As she activated the Gremory family circle to begin her transit, her mind was still ablaze with questions. How much did Connor know about the supernatural? What kind of a sword was that? Why were the other Fallen just staying back? What else was he hiding?

Rias emerged from the teleportation circle moments later in the corner of the club room, finding Akeno seated comfortably on one of the two Victorian-style couches in the center. For as calm as the Queen appeared, it must mean good news. Her Rook, Koneko Tōjō, sat opposite to her on the other couch, chowing down on a bag of sweets in her hands.

"Well, Akeno? What did you find?"

"Oh my~ Cut right to the chase, Buchō. Not even going to ask if I'm alright? Or tell me about Issei?"

"I know you well enough to know you would be fine, Akeno. And Issei will be fine, too. He's settled in for the night, and I'm going to give him time to adjust to things as a Devil before bringing him here." The heiress took a seat at her desk while Akeno watched with a calculating eye.

She had mixed feelings about Rias' plan. On one hand, she trusted Rias with her life and knew that she never meant for harm to befall Issei. On the other, she didn't like how much room for error there was with baiting the Fallen this way. Her fear that her adorable junior could be hurt or killed had come to fruition, and she felt more than a little guilty for not doing more to prevent it.

"Just as well, I only arrived at the scene just as the Fallen were leaving, anyway."

"Then, Connor survived?" Hearing this made Koneko stop eating and curiously look to Rias.

"Yes, he did. Not only did he survive, he patched himself up with magic once the Fallen were out of sight." Akeno noticed Rias straighten up in her seat and smiled. "I didn't realize Connor was keeping such secrets, Buchō. Is that why you had Koneko scout Issei instead?"

"No, Sona would have taken offense if I kept tabs on Connor. She won't say it, but I know for sure that she was scouting him for her peerage. Now I know why." The exchange student was a magician, and Rias was slightly miffed at herself for not noticing sooner. He would have made for a fine Bishop.

"Buchō," Koneko called, grabbing her king's attention. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, didn't you know, Koneko? Connor Lochlainn, your senior from across the seas, is a magician." Akeno's lighthearted tone turned serious upon seeing Koneko's eyes widen slightly. "You didn't know?"

Koneko just shook her head, astonished at her own lack of awareness. She was the one that had originally sensed the possible Sacred Gear within Issei, much to her disgust. And yet, she had never noticed that anything was unusual about the American exchange student. He felt just as normal as the people around him.

"Oh my~"

"Akeno, how can you be so nonchalant about this? Even Koneko didn't notice?! He was here for two whole weeks!"

"But he didn't do anything, did he?" Akeno inquired, making Rias pause. "He could have done something to Sona's peerage, too, and yet everyone there is fine. Besides, there are plenty of people at Kuoh who have ties to the supernatural, and Sona would have told you if he was dangerous. Don't stress about it, Buchō."

Rias sighed and leaned back in her chair. Akeno had a point; maybe she was justoverreacting. Even if Sona had called dibs on a potential peerage member, she would not have hesitated to alert her rival if she suspected a potential threat to the school or its students.

"Do you plan on recruiting him?"

Rias shook her head. "He's on more friendly terms with some of the Student Council. If anything, he'll likely be more partial to an offer from Sona. I've never even met him in passing, so I doubt he would be very receptive to joining us."

"That doesn't mean you can't try."

Rias raised an eyebrow at her Queen. "You seem awfully persistent about this, Akeno. Something I should know?"

"Oh, not really," she tittered. "I'm just curious about our resident yankee. For Fallen Angels to leave him alive, he must have done something scary to drive them off, right?"

"Maybe. We just have to be careful about him. Did he see you at all?"

"No. I was far enough that he wouldn't notice. He simply walked home once he was finished anyway."

"Alright." Rias sat silent for a moment, contemplating her options. "…We'll wait and see with him. I don't think he'll be a problem, but I won't disregard the possibility, either." The redhead turned her attention to her younger servant. "Koneko, could you keep an eye on him, maybe introduce yourself to him?"

"Okay."

"Oh, I don't think she would mind getting to personally know the creator of Bruiseball. Ufufu~" Akeno giggled, invoking a small smile from her King and a upward twitch on Koneko's lips.

–––––

Rias smiled once more, thinking about that last snip. It was rather funny, watching the Tennis Club take a more proactive role in keeping the Perverted Trio from peeping than the Student Council did in post. Koneko especially enjoyed it for the sheer spectacle, even if she couldn't participate.

But, back on topic, Rias was taking a gamble with this plan for Connor, and she understood that. Even so, Akeno was right. Connor hadn't given her any reason to suspect ill intent toward her or anyone at the academy. He was certainly no friend to the Fallen Angels, so that would be a good talking point to use should the subject come up in private conversation. She would have to talk with Sona about what she and Akeno witnessed before she tried making contact with him. With how quiet the American was, it was difficult to say how he would react.

"You meet the most interesting people in high school," the Gremory heiress mused as she got back to her paperwork. Other business aside, she had to make sure that her newest servant's integration to the ORC went off without a hitch.

---

"Oh, geez! Connor, what happened to you?"

The day was turning out almost exactly as Connor had suspected it would. The confused, shocked or even some piteous stares at the new decoration on his face could be seen from everybody that passed him. Several people had stopped him and asked if he was alright, to which he politely waved off their concerns. It was only during homeroom when Reya first noticed the patch and worriedly approached him that somebody asked him for details.

"I, uh… I had an accident," he answered.

"Some accident," Aika chimed from her spot next to them. He turned to her with a dull expression to find her giving a look of uncharacteristic concern. "Seriously, what did you do to yourself? Did somebody take a swing at you?"

"Not really. I tripped on my school bag yesterday morning and hit a corner on a kitchen counter."

"Ouch," she cringed.

"Yeah. Glad I didn't hit it with my teeth."

"You put ice on it, right?" Reya asked.

"Yeah. It probably looks worse than it is, but it still hurts to smile."

"Well, you should probably go to the nurse's office, just to be safe," she suggested.

"I appreciate it, but I think I can survive. If it starts acting up, then I'll go. Promise."

Reya stared for several seconds before she finally acquiesced. "Alright."

"Aika, stop reaching for my notebook," he suddenly stated, then cast a glance over his shoulder. Aika, whose expression now resembled a deer in the headlights, had in fact been leaning down toward his bag to try and grab the notebook behind his back. "To exploit a man's injury? Hast thou no honor?"

"You weren't even looking!" she rebuked.

"I don't have to look. I sense a disturbance in the Force every time you try." It was actually true: The set of runes that he placed on the notebook's cover acted as a proximity sensor, reacting to any unknown entity or magic within arm's reach of it. He'd know if anybody tried anything.

Reya held back a giggle, catching the reference. While it was unnerving for her friend to come to school tired and hurt like he was, it was nice to know that he still had his sense of humor.

The classroom door slid open, and the homeroom teacher, Kurobe, stepped in; briefcase in one hand, a coffee mug in the other. "Good morning, everyone. Murayama, if you woul- Mr. Lochlainn, are you alright?"

Connor bit back a sigh, slightly flustered. He had hoped that Kurobe wouldn't make a scene, but the man took pride in his students' well-being. "It's just a bruise, Sensei. It'll heal, I'll be fine."

The middle-aged man looked skeptical, but accepted the answer regardless. "If you say so. Alright, Murayama."

The whole class followed on command from the class representative.

"All rise!"

"Bow!"

"Ohayougozaimasu! Oshietekudasai!" (Good morning! Please teach me!)

"Be seated!"

"Very well, class. Textbooks out. Back to where we left off."

From there, Kurobe continued his lecture on Japanese grammar and sentence structure. Unfortunately, Connor found it increasingly difficult to focus, which didn't go unnoticed by his friend.

---

Classes were dismissed at around 3:00 P.M on Mondays, and with the classroom cleaned in about 20 minutes, everyone was left to their devices. Most tended to head for their respective clubs early, while others lingered to chat with their peers or catch up on homework. Reya had hoped to check in with Connor again to make sure he was alright after finishing up the classroom.

To her irritation, Connor had once again disappeared once the job was done without anyone realizing it.

She didn't know how he did it; for a guy who could qualify as the tallest student in the academy, he had a knack for escaping a crowded room unnoticed. His arrivals heralded the same attention as any other student, but that wasn't the issue. On breaks or at the end of the day, he would simply… vanish… like he wasn't even there.

Reya let out a disappointed sigh as she entered the Student Council's office. Looking up, she found her President and Vice-President attending to business at their respective desks. Tomoe Meguri, the council's most eccentric member, sat at her assigned desk with her own paperwork. She glanced toward the door and waved at the newcomer. Across from her, tidying up her desk, was Momo Hanakai, Sona's second Bishop.

"Hey, Reya-chan!"

"Hello, Tomoe-chan, Momo-chan. Hello, Kaichō, Fukukaichō."

Sona noticed the distant tone in her Bishop's greeting and looked up. "Is something wrong, Reya?"

"No, not really. But… I'm a little concerned for Connor-kun."

Tomoe snapped up at the name. "Connor-san? What happened? What's wrong? Is he okay?" The redhead's questions were fast-paced and tinged with worry.

"What's wrong with Lochlainn-san?" Tsubaki asked, her curiosity piqued as well.

"He seemed really tired this morning, more so than I've seen from him any morning, and he has this awful bruise on his cheek covered by a patch. He said that he tripped and struck a kitchen counter yesterday, but…"

Sona and Tsubaki glanced at one another as Reya trailed off. Momo noticed but said nothing.

"Do you think that he was lying?" Sona asked.

"I don't know, Kaichō. I don't want to think he was lying. He's been very genuine in the time I've known him, but he seemed hesitant to say what happened. I talked with him at the start of class, but he left right after class ended."

"Maybe he was just embarrassed about it?" Momo suggested offhandedly. "He could just be putting on a brave face. Boys are like that."

"Perhaps, but for his sake, let's err on the side of caution," Sona replied before turning to Reya. "Keep a close eye on him. Use what opportunities you have to talk with him. If he needs something, let him know you are there to help."

"Of course, Kaichō."

"What about me, Kaichō?" Tomoe asked.

"If you cross paths with him, you can ask how he is faring, Tomoe. For now, you have a job to do."

Tomoe pouted for a brief moment before she schooled her features. On any given day, she didn't have many chances to interact with Connor, even though she wanted to. She had friends in both the Kendo Club and Tennis Club that spoke highly of how friendly he was despite what the rumor mill had said about him. She wanted to see for herself just what he was like.

The newest addition to Sona's peerage was a stroke of luck for her, though. Genshirou Saji, as she had been introduced, was going to take her place as secretary of the Student Council within the week, while she would be taking a more generalized position. Maybe with this, she'd be able to at least find out where it was he would go during breaks. With her new goal in sight, she returned to her work with renewed vigor.

Sona, meanwhile, looked down at her desk. Her first thought upon hearing about Connor being extraordinarily tired was to not think anything of it. Any number of things could occur that would prompt someone to stay up longer than normal, especially on a Sunday. She could relate. Similarly, she paid no special heed to his injury. Accidents happen, and if Momo was right, then he was just doing what any teenager would do.

She knew that Connor was a very independent person, based on his behavior during the guided tour she gave him on his first day. He didn't ask very many questions, and the few he did ask pertained to the student body and the layout of the school. Ever since then, she hadn't heard anything of note on him until the creation of the Tennis Club's new pastime.

A wayward part of her imagination wondered if he had been reincarnated somehow, but the presence of the bruise dispelled that theory almost immediately. No high-class Devil would allow for a newly reincarnated servant to continue bearing an injury like that; it would make them appear negligent as a King.

On another note, Issei Hyōdō's 'date' with the Fallen Angel was yesterday as well. She hadn't spoken to Rias about the issue, but from what she understood, it seemed that the Gremory heiress had indeed reincarnated the second-year student that very night.

Rias had assured her that things were under control, but current evidence stood to the contrary.

"Tsubaki," she called, drawing her Queen's attention. "I want you to be on the lookout, too. It might be nothing, but a little extra precaution wouldn't hurt."

"Yes, Kaichō."

---

Thankfully, the day went by quicker than Connor had expected, even for a Monday. Although it was certainly much more bizarre than he had anticipated.

For one thing, Issei Hyōdō was still at Kuoh. The brunette had been wandering around all day, trying to find somebody who remembered Yuuma, to no avail. Even his two best friends and fellow perverts, to whom he had bragged to their faces on Friday, had no clue what he was talking about. Connor concluded that somebody was jumping through a lot of hoops to make sure the events stayed hidden. Granted, that's what you always did when covering up the supernatural, every magus knew that, but this was some serious Memory Manipulation at work.

He had surmised that Issei was reincarnated after his assassination, but he had also figured that Issei would be stuck somewhere in the Underworld while his new master broke him like a wild animal. For him to actually be here must also mean that the master was at least somewhere nearby. Just one more something to be wary of.

It was clear to him now that at least two Devils of some authority and their respective collections had taken residence in Kuoh. Reya giving him the flyer on Friday was his first clue, the second flyer being another, and Issei's presence confirmed the suspicion. As far as he knew, though, nobody suspected him of anything dubious. He might just be able to carry on with his (somewhat) normal life abroad if he just kept his head down. That could change if he got careless again.

Due to his quickened pace and zigzagging through town, the journey to his temporary abode took only about twenty minutes instead of thirty. Taking the northernmost exit from the market district and going another half-kilometer, he came across the welcome sight of his apartment building. It was nothing special: a two-story apaato holding four apartments on each level, but it was home. The private owner of the building, a kind old man by the name of Watanabe, lived right next door in a smaller, more traditional house of his own. (2)

The apaato wasn't the prettiest thing, but the apartment itself was adequate, for lack of a better term. It had the bare essentials: a small bathroom, a kitchen and dining area, and a living room just big enough to seat a few guests comfortably with a small TV on a stand in the corner nearest to the balcony. Connected to the living room was the sparsely decorated main bedroom, with a twin-size bed in one corner and a large dresser against the wall opposite to it. All in all, a simple Japanese apartment with some western elements thrown here and there. This wasn't to say that his current residence was bad; the price was modest and the neighbors were nice, but he certainly wouldn't mind an upgrade to something bigger if the chance ever arose.

Not that he would get a chance anytime soon, what with all that happened to him recently.

With a practiced motion, he opened the small drop box addressed to his apartment number, swiped the contents, and let the lid snap shut. Disinterestedly, he rifled through the mail, only to discover something that made him freeze.

Among the utility bills was a single unmarked envelope: no address, no return address, and no postage stamp to boot. He glanced around just to make sure he was currently alone. Everywhere he turned; there was no one in sight, just empty street. That should have been reassuring, but it only made him more uneasy. He hurriedly opened the door to his apartment and just as swiftly locked it behind him, practically throwing off his shoes at the genkan. He then tossed the bills haphazardly onto the kitchen's countertop before sitting down at the dining table. (3)

He scrutinized the unmarked letter for several seconds, contemplating whether he should read it or just throw it out. Whoever the sender was, they had hand delivered it to his mailbox, so they knew where he stayed. If he chose to ignore it, there would likely be another message, or possibly something more nefarious, in his mailbox in the following days.

Taking a calming breath, he cautiously felt and squeezed the letter from corner to corner, checking for anything other than paper. Finding nothing, he opened the letter and unfurled a plain white sheet from within. The message was brief, but neatly handwritten.

–––––

Meet me at the benches near the park fountain at 2100 hours tonight. Come alone.

–––––

If he wasn't on edge before, he certainly was right there. His common sense told him this was nothing more than a trap to silence him, and now he had a fairly good idea who the sender was.

He spent the next several minutes just sitting at the table and thinking. If his suspicion on the sender was correct, simply ignoring the demand was a waste of an opportunity for answers, and attempting to hide was absolutely pointless. They would likely be watching for his arrival at the park, and would know if he brought any kind of backup. Sometimes he hated thinking like a magus. The ever-present abject suspicion of deceit and foul play was more than a little tiring. Nothing could ever be simple.

It went against his better judgment, but he ultimately decided that he wasn't going to sit around and hope for things to blow over. There was no chance of that happening now. He'd go, but this time, he'd be armed to the teeth. With this mind made up, he went about his evening routine: shower, dinner, some ice to the face to calm his nerves, and by 8:00 P.M., he was picking out the runestones to use in case a quick escape was needed.

A bitterly ironic thought crossed his mind as he passed the threshold of his apartment and locked the door behind him: Yesterday, he had stumbled into a den of lions and managed to walk away. Now, he was marching right back into it.

---

Connor's short expedition to the park had actually been much less violent than he had expected. There were no Fallen lying in wait along the way, and for that matter hardly even any people. Unsettling as it was, he would take it as a good sign. The fewer witnesses, the better.

The last gleams of sunlight were just barely visible over the horizon by the time he reached the park. He felt an odd chill as he stepped off the sidewalk and into the grass. A barrier of some kind meant to keep away any unwanted visitors, he guessed. At least they had the sense to put one up early this time. Taking a quick glance around the open area, he saw a figure exactly where the letter had said to meet.

Standing by the fountain was a dark-haired young man in a black overcoat. Upon noticing Connor's arrival, he turned and greeted the magus with a short wave and a disarming smile that didn't quite reach his pale grey eyes. Underneath the coat, the man wore a simple black and grey suit and black dress shoes. He was roughly the same size as Connor, both in height and build, and although he didn't appear to be much older, the manner in which he held himself suggested that he was.

The stranger whistled, "That's quite the shiner you've got there." Connor had decided to forego his makeshift patch so his field of vision would at least be somewhat unobstructed. The man's attempt to break the ice was met with an irritated stare. "Relax. I'm not here to kill you."

"You may not be, but someone else around here might."

"It's just me," the stranger assuaged. "I'm here on orders from Azazel."

"So were the others. Why should I believe you?" Connor asked. "What proof do you have?"

"You can believe what you want, but as far as proof? You used an ancient curse depicted in the Ulster Cycle of Irish mythology to force fair combat against Dohnaseek. Kalawarner recognized it, and that's why she stopped everything once you killed him. She was the only one that made no move to kill you last night, right?"

Connor thought back and realized that he was right. The bluenette hadn't actually done anything against him other than issue a verbal threat, and the only way this guy would know about that was if he was there, or he heard the story from the three remaining Fallen.

"Who are you?"

"Tobio Ikuse, Slash Dog of Grigori. And you?"

"…Connor Lochlainn, magus. How did you find out where I live?"

"You passed by me on the street heading to school this morning, and I traced your steps back. To be fair, I was on your blind side as you walked." He reinforced his point by holding up his left hand to block the peripheral vision of his left eye.

Connor silently cursed himself for not finishing the Bounded Field sooner. It was already coming back to bite him. "Alright. So what do you want with me?"

"Let me explain some things first. The original operation here was nothing more than observation of a suspected Sacred Gear wielder, but somebody issued false orders under Azazel's name. Now, thanks to your intervention and Kalawarner blowing the whistle, the entire chain of command within the Grigori is undergoing a massive internal investigation."

"Mission compromised," Connor commented.

Tobio nodded. "Pretty much."

"So does that mean you guys are good and gone out of here?" If that were true, it would be the best news he heard all day. Probably all week. Maybe then, he-

"Not exactly. I'm here to observe you for the foreseeable future."

Connor's eyes widened, and his composure cracked slightly. "What?"

"By getting involved the way you did, you've caused quite a stir within the Grigori, and piqued the interest of several important people, including Azazel," Tobio explained. "Now, in place of Raynare's group observing their target, I'm going to be observing you."

"No… Uh-uh, no, not happening, we're done here. Good night, and piss off." He turned to walk away.

"I'm authorized to rat you out to the locals if you try to get away." Tobio's threat made the magus pause. "I can send an anonymous tip to the governing Devils here, make them aware of a dangerous stray magician in their midst and ham up the details however I see fit. If they don't attack you immediately, you would never get a moment's rest again as long as you remain here." Tobio waited until Connor turned fully around to face him before continuing. "And just to make it perfectly clear, the ones in charge here are blood relatives to two of the Four Satans currently in command of the entire Devil race."

Connor began to seethe, sorely tempted to summon the runic sword from his Magic Crest, but then he realized something and stopped himself. Whatever this guy might say to the Devils wouldn't matter if they were going to come after him anyway. They had been there to collect Issei's body, after all.

"Is that right?" he asked. "Well, the Devils already picked up their real prize while I was fighting for my life last night. If the ones in town don't know what I am by now, then it'll come to their attention soon enough. I'll give you credit, though. That was a nice try. Good night." He turned to leave again.

"What about the Fallen? Have you got a plan for them?"

Connor stopped and turned around again, simultaneously curious and annoyed at this man's persistence. "If I did, why would I tell it to you?"

Tobio held up his hands in a placating manner. "Look, I don't want a fight any more than you do, and I also don't want to cause any kind of trouble that could get people killed. But killing Dohnaseek put you on the Grigori's radar, and that man had some friends who are not happy about his death. So what I'm suggesting is a deal. Something where the both of us benefit."

"You just tried to blackmail me. And how do I know you what you're offering is real?"

"Because I'm one of Azazel's best fighters," Tobio answered. "A vast majority of people within the Grigori value strength above all else. In that regard, I can match most anybody there, so my word carries weight. If I say to leave well enough alone, people will listen. Azazel will make them listen. Anyone that doesn't can be written off as rogue, and you can do whatever you want with them. I'm offering you a choice, Mr. Lochlainn, because I can promise you that no one else will give you that option."

Connor looked to his right, thinking it over. He knew he couldn't hold off everyone that came after him forever. Sooner or later, he'd be caught unawares. If what Tobio said was true, then this arrangement would be better than anything Connor could do on his own without any resources or contacts. When he looked back, he saw Tobio remaining right where he was before, not even shifting in his posture.

"What's this deal?"

"We keep it civil and inconspicuous. I just got a part-time job at an izakaya here in town to maintain my cover. You drop in once a week and fill me in on your activities, and I'll keep the more wily members of Grigori off your back while the investigation continues." He raised a hand, anticipating Connor's protest. "I'm not asking you to divulge family secrets or anything like that. I know how much you magi like to keep them. All I'm asking for is your day-to-day goings-on, that's it." (4)

A tense silence followed. It was a very generous deal, all things considered. Tobio didn't have to go to such lengths and actually make contact with his target, but he did anyway. Then again, a simple weekly meeting to stave off retaliation seemed too good to be true. For his own peace of mind, Connor had to make sure.

Connor closed his eyes, then reopened them with the Mystic Eyes active. Guaranteed backlash aside, being able to discern one's intention(s) was a blessing in disguise because, through eye contact, in addition to correctly predicting a target's next possible movements, they could detect when said target was attempting to mislead him through words or actions. In essence, they took a glimpse into the mind, past the surface thoughts and into the self-perceived future of that target. He stared into Tobio's eyes for several seconds, searching for any kind of deceit. To his surprise and unspoken relief, he found nothing: Tobio was telling the truth.

Tobio tilted his head slightly in intrigue at the luminescent orbs boring into his own. He had heard Kalawarner and Raynare talk about the eyes from within the Grigori's interrogation chamber, but here it seemed unreal to behold. One would almost mistake it for a Sacred Gear, except that Kalawarner asserted that it wasn't. If not a Gear, then what could it-

"Fine."

The curt answer to his proposal seemed to snap Tobio out of his thoughts. "Then, it's settled. Stop by Nomura's Bar & Grill next Sunday at 6:00 P.M. That's when my shift ends." He turned and began to walk away before throwing another comment over his shoulder. "And when you get there, act like we're old friends."

Connor waited until Tobio was out of sight and the chill in the air was gone before sitting down on the closest park bench. Head in his hands, he shut off the eyes and braced for the inevitable stinging. Like clockwork, the sensation flared to life and subsided within a span of a few minutes.

Leaning back against the bench, Connor stared up at the darkened sky and breathed in the crisp spring air.

He trusted his eyes, and after thinking about it a bit further, he figured he really wasn't going to get much better than what he'd been offered. It was about as close to a proverbial olive branch as he was ever receive from the Grigori. If a weekly meeting at a restaurant was all he had to do in order for Tobio to keep his word, then that was fine. Of course, he would be on his guard at those meetings, but that was a bridge to cross later.

With a tired sigh, he stood back up and began the trek back to retire for the night. If this worked out, then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't feel the need to work himself into a coma with putting up all his defensive measures.

'While I'm out, though… ah, what the hell, might as well work on the Bounded Field.'

Then again, the old habits of a magus never truly die. They just have a long half-life.

---

…

(1): Stea med brown rice

(2): Typically a  two-story multi-unit residential building.

(3): T raditional entryway area for a house, apartment, or building usually located directl y in front of the door. An indoor porch, if you will.

(4): Informal bar for after-work drinking, similar to pubs, saloons, taverns, etc.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 3: First Job

In the week that followed his meeting with Tobio, Connor had endeavored to prepare himself for any surprises that might befall him.

He had quickly finished and fine-tuned his work on the apartment and completed the Bounded Field around both the apaato complex and Watanabe's house. The Field spanned a full fifteen meters around both buildings, and with it in place, he would be made aware of any foreign magical energy signature traversing its outer border, both coming in and going out. It would do nothing more than that, but that was all he needed from it.

Having secured the home front, he could devote his attention to his body's conditioning. The resistance runes in conjunction with the new routine of morning stretches and exercises were a step in the right direction. Even so, it took him several days to get used to the sensation of a weighted body, and part of his regiment required him to get used to the sword again. He didn't want to use his father's emergency runes if he could help it. He had also resolved to getting his internal clock back in order and find a proper sleep schedule, which meant regularly going to bed sooner and getting up earlier. No more all-nighters.

…Except if it was necessary.

For all his preparations, though, the week's events did not cease to surprise him. Namely, events at school.

On numerous occasions on Tuesday, he got the sense that he was being watched. Not because of any supernatural sense, but rather because he kept seeing somebody with white hair duck around a corner whenever he turned to look behind him. He vaguely remembered reading about this kind of scenario somewhere before. Was he being spied on, or was it just a student that was too nervous to come near him? Opinions about him still varied within the student body, and if this person's opinion leaned to the negative, approaching them now would only spook them. He'd wait for an opportunity, maybe they would slip up and he could catch them.

Reya had taken it upon herself to act as a 'super sempai,' in Aika's words. On Wednesday morning, she had completely skipped greeting him and forcibly placed a bento box in his lap the moment she walked into homeroom. She explained that it was a pineapple teriyaki chicken recipe that her grandmother had used for decades and claimed that it helped speed up the body's natural recovery process. The look on Reya's face said that she wouldn't accept refusal, so he relented and promised that he would partake.

The very next morning, while he was getting ready for the day, Connor noticed something remarkable in the mirror: The swelling on his cheek was completely gone and the bruise was barely noticeable. He figured that he would need another week or so to keep it under wraps, but now it felt like nothing was wrong. He made a mental note to give his regards to Reya to pass along to her grandmother. The woman was either a miracle worker or a magician, and a good one if whatever she did passed his initial check for drugs or poison. In any case, he decided to keep the patch on until Sunday, just for the sake of appearance.

A couple of new faces had made his acquaintance during the week, too. Reya had introduced him to another member of the Student Council before classes started on Thursday. Apparently, she had caught on to his daily disappearing act, and decided to use her available time wisely to catch him while she could.

Tsubasa Yura was the taller of the two girls, trailing him by only a few centimeters. She wasn't as… proportionate as her fellow Council member, but in place of that, she had quite the athletic build going for her. He could easily imagine her being captain on any sports team if she wasn't part of the Council. Another particular detail he noticed about the tomboyish bluenette was that, unlike Reya, the sleeves of her uniform's white dress shirt were neatly rolled up past her elbows. Based on that and her confident but respectful greeting, he gathered that she was someone who preferred actions to words.

Friday had been the real kicker: He learned the identity of his alleged stalker.

–––––

Connor was taking his shortcut through the assembly hall to his preferred little spot in the wooded area behind the tennis courts. The courts themselves never saw any kind of activity between 12:00 P.M. and 1:00 P.M., which made for a perfect place to vanish during lunch break.

As he turned the corner to exit the assembly hall, however, he abruptly came face-to-face with a girl. A very short and petite girl that almost looked too young to even be at a high school.

She had bright white hair with two long bangs that ran past her shoulders and a few smaller bangs that nearly covered her forehead. The rest of her hair was arranged into a somewhat messy bob cut. On either side of her head, a cat-shaped hair clip sat almost evenly with her temples. Despite her size, she wore the academy uniform well, with the shoulder cape being the only standard piece missing.

Her hazel, almost golden eyes, stared up at him. He had at least 40 centimeters on this girl, so he had to really look down to meet her gaze.

"Um… Hello."

"Hi."

"Uh…"

"You taught the Tennis Club to play Bruiseball."

"Oh. Do you play?"

The girl shook her head. "Different club. Fun to watch, though. I hate perverts." Her speech was brutally honest, but her dispassionate tone made her sound completely callous about the subject.

"What club are you in?"

"Occult Research."

"Really? Oh… Oh, you're that first-year that's with them."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Koneko Tōjō."

"Connor Lochlainn. Er… you know, I've been wondering about that. Is Koneko your real name or just a nickname?"

"Real name."

She kept staring.

"Okay… Another question: Have you been following me recently?"

"Yeah."

No shame or guilt at all. She just kept staring.

"…I see. One more question: Why are you looking at me like that?''

"Trying to figure something out."

"I… see… Okay, well, it was nice to meet you, Koneko, but I need to go."

"See ya."

Connor walked away briskly, going back through the assembly hall, wanting to be anywhere but there at the moment. Koneko's eyes continued to follow him, still giving that same blank look.

–––––

Hands down, the most awkward and cringeworthy conversation he had ever experienced in Kuoh. One that he did not relish the thought of revisiting.

It wasn't her appearance or the way she talked, he didn't mind those at all. It was funny seeing how much taller he was compared to her. The problem was the way she just… stared at him… that blank stare that made it seem like she wasn't really looking at him. He wondered if this was how people felt trying to talk to him when he was younger. He had a bad habit then of not looking people in the eye.

And what was it that she was 'trying to figure out,' exactly?

---

Sunday evening finally came around and Connor arrived with time to spare at the front of the larger of Kuoh's two privately-owned izakaya. A cluster of runestones stood by in his pocket and with Tobio nowhere to be seen, he took that extra time to survey his new surroundings.

Nomura's Bar and Grill was actually closer to home than he thought; a mere two blocks away from where he normally made the turnoff out of the market district to walk home. It was a very simple-looking establishment, nestled into the first floor a two-story building with the kanji for Nomura displayed above the entrance on a large canvas.

He stood outside for a few minutes at a nearby magazine stand along the street, browsing through the selections and just killing time waiting for his contact. When the contact in question emerged from the izakaya's entrance with a leather bag in hand, Connor set the magazine in his hands back in its slot and made his presence known.

"Tobio!" he called with a false grin.

"Hey, Connor! Long time no see!" Tobio held out his hand to shake, to which Connor obliged. "Come on in, let's get you something while you're here. We can talk inside." His words were friendly, but the way he said them sounded like a command.

Slipping in just as the dinner rush was beginning to approach, the two stopped at the far end of a bar on the left hand side of the restaurant's interior. Tables of various sizes were arranged neatly across the center of the floor and against the right hand wall. Spaces along the bar were preset for dining at about one meter apart from each other, and available foods were on display behind a glass counter. Connor had to admit: some of the things there looked pretty appetizing.

"'Oyaji', got a live one for ya!" Tobio called toward the kitchen.

"What are ya doing back, boy? I thought ya clocked out already," a raspy voice resounded from the back before a man in his late fifties or early sixties shuffled out to greet Tobio. His full head of white hair was neatly held within a hair net, and the wrinkles on his face softened upon seeing Tobio standing with someone new. "Oh. Friend of yours?"

"Yep. Connor, this is Hideo Nomura, but everyone just calls him 'Oyaji.' 'Oyaji', Connor Lochlainn."

"Good to meet you," Connor greeted with a light bow.

"Yeah." The old man only nodded, not seeming to care about formalities. "So, what'll it be?"

"We'll have the karaage, boss. Make it two." Tobio interjected, not even giving Connor time to browse the selection. (1)

"Gotcha," 'Oyaji' grunted, walking back to the kitchen without another word.

"Quite the talker, isn't he?" The magus remarked as the two took their seats, with Tobio to his left.

"Yeah, but some of the things 'Oyaji' makes here can't be beat. By the way, you healed pretty fast. Got tired of it and fixed yourself up?"

"You could say that," Connor dismissed before his tone and expression turning serious. "So, how do we do this? And how secure are we?"

"I've got countermeasures in place," Tobio assured. "People who hear us will think we're talking about a game. We'll start simple. My name is Tobio Ikuse, leader of Slash/Dog Team, the only human-exclusive special ops group under the jurisdiction of the Grigori."

"Human-exclusive? How'd you get caught up with them?"

"Let me answer that question with another: Have you ever heard of the Heavenly Aloha?"

"Yeah. That was the cruise liner that took off from Japan several years ago, but never came back. No emergency broadcast, no wreckage, not even a clue as to where it went. News media said a whole school full of students was on board for a special trip. Every country along the Pacific and then some pitched in for the search effort, but nothing came of it for weeks." The better question would have been: 'Who hadn't heard of it?' It was the worst maritime disaster the world had seen that year.

"I was originally supposed to be one of the students in that group, but I couldn't make it because I was sick. Over two hundred fifty people, a vast majority of them kids, vanished without a trace. At least, until several of my classmates who were on board reappeared in Japan a month later."

Connor's eyes widened. "How did that not make the news?"

"It was covered up. One thing led to another, on and on again for another month or so, I awakened my Sacred Gear in the middle of it all, and I eventually found out that all those people on the ship were used as test subjects for experiments into Sacred Gears. The people responsible for it, the Utsusemi Agency, were trying to get revenge on the Shinto clans that rejected them for simply not being talented enough to carry on the family practices. After my best friend almost died trying to save me, I lost control and unlocked my Balance Breaker. It took Azazel and two of his most trusted associates to subdue me.

"When I came to, Azazel explained everything to me; Sacred Gears, Balance Breakers, the Great War, the Armistice, everything. Then he got me and my friends, the ones who survived, into an institute within the Grigori and trained us up to be special operatives under the code name Slash/Dog. In summary: I owe my life and my friends' lives to them."

"I see… For what's it's worth, I'm sorry you had to go through that." To Connor, the idea of seeing people you knew get turned into experimental fodder was horrifying. Just because you had to look out for yourself as a magus didn't mean you had to be heartless doing it. At least, he thought so.

"Thanks. So, what about you? What's your story?"

"You said you wouldn't ask family secrets."

"I'm not. I'm asking for your story. Your personal story. How'd you end up here, halfway around the world? Why go and not stay home?"

"There's not much to tell. I'm just a simple magus, trying to move up in the world."

"No simple magus kills a Fallen Angel the way you did. Indulge me."

Both men stayed silent for a moment as Connor contemplated his answer.

"I guess you could say I'm on vacation. Or, I was."

Tobio's eyebrow quirked.

"My grandpa was a kid by the time World War II started up, and with Ireland staying largely neutral throughout the war, that left him with a lot of time to read and learn. He always told me that distant relatives took an interest in him and taught him the basics, and he built himself up from there. He never called them anything other than 'distant relatives,' so as to keep their secrets safe. Most of what I know about magecraft came from him."

"What about your father?"

"My dad was the second-born in the family, so he wasn't allowed to learn magecraft. It's a common practice in magi families for the first-born to get the special treatment, and that went to my uncle." Connor paused and shook his head. "But then, he and his pregnant wife were killed in a massive car pileup almost fifteen years ago. Since it was way too late at that point for my dad to be instated as a new heir, Grandpa instead chose four-year-old me."

"You were forced into it? Did your father not try to stop it?" Tobio asked curiously.

"There wasn't much he could do. He was kept completely in the dark about magecraft growing up, and he was worried of what my grandfather would do if he didn't comply with letting me learn it. And I wouldn't say that I was forced into it, just enticed. Grandpa made it sound so alluring and amazing. It took me a while to see how that was mostly a matter of perspective."

Following the death of his eldest son, Donovan was desperate to not lose his life's work, and threw everything he had into completely rebuilding the Magic Crest to where Connor's body could adapt to it in a span of four years. In that haste, however, he hadn't done everything he should have to prepare his grandson for the life ahead of him, and had died before that problem could be properly corrected.

'Dying from overwork is a pretty sorry way to go.'

"Then, with all that, why did you end up going to Japan of all places?"

"The scenery?" the magus lightly offered before his gaze went down to his hands. "I don't know, I… I guess I just needed some time away from it all. Just for a little bit; a year or two, nothing more… I wanted to study something else for a while, you know?"

Connor was fully aware that a mindset like his made him a disgraceful aberrant in the eyes of more traditional magi, a coward unwilling to take whatever steps necessary to reach the Root, but he didn't care. Fuck that noise, he was taught to be a magus, not raised as one. He wasn't going to pawn off his soul or the world itself just for a tiny glimpse of the Root, not that he'd ever actually get it or live long enough to brag to anyone that he pulled it off.

Ultimate knowledge of all phenomena across the universe was fundamentally impossible for mortal man to achieve, and the vacuous pursuit of it was a pointless venture. From his standpoint, it was like falling in a bottomless pit; unable to reach the desired end, but also unable to return after failing, with one's only companion being their own unending despair.

He simply chose not to jump.

"I suppose… and what about those eyes? Those green ones you looked at me with back at the park?"

"Genetic mutation. And they're not green, it's a trick of the light. No one else in the family had them, so that's really all I can say." Connor's answer was quick but even. Tobio didn't look convinced.

He and Connor didn't get much farther with their discussion before 'Oyaji' presented their orders. Two ceramic platters of deep-fried chicken chunks seated on a few leaves of lettuce with a lemon wedge on the side.

"There you go."

"Thanks, 'Oyaji.'"

"Yeah, yeah," the old man waved as he moved on to other orders.

"As enlightening as this has been for the both of us, I think we need to get to business," Connor began. "First off, what are Sacred Gears? You know more about them than I do, so…"

"Itadakimasu." Tobio gave thanks for the meal before beginning his explanation. "Fair enough. Sacred Gears are special artifacts created by the God of the Bible in order to enact miracles on Earth. They're linked to a human's soul upon birth, and only humans or hybrids of humans have ever been born with them, but they can carry over if a human gets reincarnated into a Devil. It's believed that some of history's most prominent figures were likely wielders of Sacred Gears that never truly manifested. Just imagine if people like Alexander the Great, Jeanne d'Arc or Nobunaga Oda actually had Sacred Gears and used them to make their mark on the world."

"But there's no way to know… right… And what about Balance Breakers? You mentioned that, too."

"Balance Breakers are the… ultimate stage of activation with Sacred Gears, their most powerful manifestations. Each one is as individual as the one wielding the Gear. Most of the time, Balance Breaker is triggered through emotional highs or overwhelming stress. For me, it was almost losing my best friend a second time. Hey, those cool off pretty quickly, so you better eat them now," he finished, pointing his chopsticks to Connor's platter.

"Huh? Oh." Connor took his chopsticks in hand and gave thanks. "Itadakimasu." Carefully, he brought the first piece of chicken up to his lips and dug in.

Whatever 'Oyaji' used for seasoning gave the chicken a nice kick upon the first bite, enough to make him blink several times in surprise. The texture, on the other hand, was the real winner. A well-crafted medium between the perfectly crispy skin and the delectably tender meat. Nothing short of exquisite.

"Wow… That is really good." Connor proclaimed after clearing his mouth.

"I know, right? I was about to steal some of yours."

Connor angled his platter away from Tobio, casting a deadpan stare towards the agent. "Mine. So, what was the deal with last Sunday? What happened there?"

"Like I said on Monday, Raynare's team had been sent to Kuoh to identify and observe the actions of one Issei Hyōdō. Azazel had reason to believe that Hyōdō had a Sacred Gear, and a potentially powerful one, so their job was to watch him and make sure that he hadn't already awakened it. In the past, humans that have done so before entering their prime have gone berserk from the sudden change and caused death and damage that could expose the supernatural to the general public."

"How did you even find out he had a Sacred Gear if it wasn't even awakened?"

"We have our sources."

"I find that answer vague and unconvincing," Connor remarked while wrapping a chicken chunk in a lettuce leaf. "Then again, who am I to talk? So why did Raynare kill him if he wasn't dangerous? Your sources should've told you that, too, right?"

"My understanding is that the 'new' orders she received were worded in such a way that they sounded like Azazel would give them if you didn't know personally what he was like."

"Who really sent the order?"

"We're still looking into that. I'm pretty sure Azazel has an idea, but whoever it was knew that Raynare, the designated leader of the op, wouldn't object to them. Dohnaseek hated humans, Raynare is obsessed with Azazel, and Mittelt is just lazy. Kalawarner at least had enough sense to question the orders when they first came, but her opinion fell on deaf ears." He paused briefly to continue eating his meal, leaving Connor to connect the dots of that night's events. "On a different note, Raynare's team was pulled out of here in such a hurry that the trove of rogue exorcists that she brought in are still skulking around town. I've been keeping them from getting out of hand in the meantime."

"Rogue exorcists? What, was she planning an attack? How many are there?"

"I'd say… at least a dozen. And no, Raynare needed manpower for a ritual she had in the works." From his bag, Tobio extracted a small stack of papers and presented it to Connor. Upon taking it, Connor's eyes were first met with a photograph of a young blond girl with innocent green eyes and clothed in a dark teal nun's habit. Pertinent information regarding the girl was listed beside the picture; height, weight, blood type, and the like. "Asia Argento, age: 16, nationality: Italy. Raised as a Holy Maiden of the Catholic Church until she was excommunicated about a month ago."

"What was she exiled for?" The magus asked as his eyes glided over the information on the pages.

"According to our sources, she used her Sacred Gear, Twilight Healing, to save the life of a Devil in the Vatican. The clergy found out, branded her a heretic and showed her the door almost immediately."

Connor stopped reading and looked up, his brow scrunched in disbelief. "In the Vatican? Bullshit. That place is the European cousin of Fort Knox. Even if a Devil somehow got past all the barriers, the Church's Executors would've torn them to shreds before they could blink."

"I agree, but what's done is done. She had to rely on us to get by for the past couple of weeks, and Raynare pulled some strings to arrange for Asia to come here while her little mission was going on. Her plan was to conduct a ritual to extract Twilight Healing from Asia, killing Asia in the process, and bring the Gear to Azazel personally. She didn't cough up that detail until just yesterday, and it's too late to stop the plane that Asia is taking to Tokyo right now."

Connor paused as he was about to take another bite of chicken and stared at Tobio incredulously. "Why? Why not just deliver Asia herself? I imagine that a practiced wielder of a Sacred Gear would be more valuable than somebody that just stole the damned thing. If she's such a potential asset, why bring her here and risk someone else getting to her? Like me, an unknown variable, or even the one behind her exile! What the actual fuck was Raynare thinking?!" The astonishing lack of logic in this roundabout scheme was more off-putting than anything else Connor had heard so far. It was enough to make his head hurt.

"I told you that Raynare is obsessed with Azazel, but I never said she was accurate in her understanding of him," Tobio clarified. "She thought she could earn points with him, or possibly more, by bringing in a rare and useful Sacred Gear with no strings attached, I suppose. She didn't take into account that he sees humans in a positive light, and wouldn't take kindly to a pointless murder for the sake of one Gear, regardless of its value. It was a deluded love that drove her, and… love can make people do crazy things."

"Right" Connor let out a tired sigh. A rather common occurrence in the last few days. "So what am I supposed to do with Asia? I'm not exactly a trusted source."

"Azazel said he was, quote, "curious of how this will play out," unquote. He's ordered complete silence across all channels that Raynare had used to get Asia here, make it seem like things are going according to plan. Before you say anything, I gave him that exact same look, so you're not alone in thinking what you are," Tobio explained, commenting on Connor's befuddled expression. "As for what exactly you do, that's entirely up to you. And my next report depends on it. Do you help her, turn her in to the Devils, send her on to me, or outright ignore her?"

"So this is all a case study now? Your boss just wants to see my reaction for shits and giggles?"

"Better than being a target for elimination, I would think," Tobio reasoned.

The magus was silent for a moment, staring down at the tabletop.

"I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long. She should arrive at Kuoh within the next two days or so." Tobio's sage advice was interrupted by a beeping coming from his pocket. Pulling a phone from said pocket, he held it to his ear for about five seconds before clicking his tongue as he hung up.

"Well, I gotta go. You can have the rest of my plate. See you next week, same time." He slapped his hand against the bar top as he walked out, leaving his target to his thoughts.

Looking to where Tobio hit the table, Connor saw a stack of yen placed atop a different kind of paper. He pulled the stack closer and noticed that the solitary piece of white paper on the bottom held a sequence of numbers written in English numerals. It was a phone number, presumably Tobio's. He could add it to his contact list once he got home. He pocketed the number, then returned to his meal, taking Tobio's unfinished karaage and setting it on his own platter.

Connor sat in silence for a long time, even after finishing his extended meal and 'Oyaji' collected what was left of his and Tobio's orders.

Was this a pun or a paradox? To have options but no alternatives?

---

When one waits for a special event or a meeting of importance, any period of time prior to that event feels much longer than it actually is. From Sunday evening to Tuesday afternoon seemed like an entire two weeks had passed, not two days.

It still didn't make sense to him why Azazel would take a risk like this in the first place. Better to secure your own holdings before your enemies even realize what you're doing, especially in their own turf. However, if he had chosen to let the situation run its course, then he either saw no harm in doing so, or had full confidence that Tobio could pick Asia up if things went south.

But why did he not fill Tobio in on his plan if that were the case? Why even use a middleman?

Connor's peaceful walk through the park to clear his head wasn't working like he had hoped. With no sign of Asia at all yesterday, he was left wondering if she had been delayed by local transportation or that in Tokyo.

Which brought up another conundrum: Just how sheltered was Asia? Did she even know how to read or speak Japanese? Because if not, then-

"Lochlainn?"

Connor looked behind him upon hearing his name.

"Hyōdō?" The younger male was dressed in the Kuoh Academy uniform with the blazer and white shirt unbuttoned to reveal a faded red undershirt.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing, really. Just out for a walk, enjoying the weather. What about you?" Connor replied casually.

"I was on my way back to the club room, I had some people I needed to meet with this afternoon."

"Club room? The ORC, right?"

Issei blinked. "Uh, yeah. How did you know?"

"Word travels fast at the academy, especially when a notorious pervert is suddenly seen in the company of a 'Great Onee-sama.' I've heard they're pretty strict about who they let in there."

"Well– hey, it was a big surprise for me, too. I only joined the club last week after Ria- er, Buchō made the offer, but it is awesome! I mean, sure, being the new guy, I'm having to do a lot of errand running; go deliver this, go see this person, go talk to that person, blah blah blah. It's kind of a drag."

"They treat you like an errand boy there?" Connor asked.

"Oh, no, i-it's not that they treat me bad, far from it!" Issei backpedaled upon realizing how it sounded. "Everyone there is really nice. There's just… rules that I have to follow, that's all it is. Oh, but let me tell you something! Both Buchō and Akeno have the most amazing boobs I've ever seen! And I haven't even– " Whatever Issei continued to say didn't register in Connor's mind; he had already stopped listening.

'Aaaaand, he's off, with his daily diatribe of harems and the wonders of breasts. Put a cork in it, you–'

"Hawuaa!"

The two males turned to their left when a voice rang out. What they saw was a young girl in a nun's habit splayed out in the grass face-first with her arms stretched out to her sides.

Connor recognized the habit from the profile's picture. It had to be his person of interest, Asia Argento.

And she had just tripped…

Over nothing…

Connor and Issei glanced at one another before both approached her.

"Oi, daijobuka?" Issei asked as he offered his hand to her.

"Auu… Perché continuo a cadere? Ah, um… gomen'nasai. Arigatogozaimashita." the girl lamented before addressing her present company in rough Japanese.

Connor feared that this was the case. His Italian wasn't exactly immaculate, so communication would be a problem unless she could speak English. At least she knew some of the native tongue.

Asia took Issei's hand to stand up and lifted her head to see past her veil, bringing her green eyes and bright blond hair into view. The hopeless pervert looked absolutely starstruck at what he saw. So much so that he couldn't bring himself to speak for several seconds.

"Umm… Qualcosa non va?" she asked carefully.

"Iie, iie. Nandemonai," Issei finally recovered.

Connor, meanwhile, was staring at Issei. Did he not even realize she was speaking full Italian and she understood his full informal Japanese? For that matter, did she?

'Must be one of those Devil perks. Maybe that's why his English seems so good,' he thought.

"Mi scusi," he addressed Asia, not sure if he was butchering the words.

"Sì?" Her eyes snapped to him, and he could see why Issei seemed to get lost in them. A face like that was the picture of innocence.

"Er… Parla inglese?"

"Yes, I can speak English," she replied fluently.

"Okay, good," Connor breathed, his accent coming forward. "I'm sorry, my Italian is just… terrible."

"Oh, that's alright. It's such a relief to actually talk to someone now. Everybody I talked to so far couldn't understand me, and… I got lost." She looked down somberly, holding her hands to her chest.

"So, uh… are you passing through town?" Issei asked, noticing the travel bag on her shoulder.

"No, I was appointed here to the church in this town. Kuoh, I believe is the name. Are you two residents here? It's nice to meet you both."

"He's the resident, I'm just a foreigner. That's Issei Hyōdō, and I'm Connor Lochlainn."

"Hey, I think I know where the church is, actually," Issei supplied.

The girl's eyes lit up like spotlights. "R-really? You do? Oh, thank you! It must be God's hand at work! Oh, and my name is Asia Argento."

"I didn't know this place had a church, Issei," Connor said inquisitively, noticing Issei's flinch at the mention of God.

"Oh, yeah, it's actually just a short walk from here, but I don't know if anyone's been there in a while."

"You don't say?… Okay then, lead the way."

"Wha- Wait, you're going, too?"

The magus shrugged. "Sure. It's a nice afternoon, plus I've got nothing else to do. Don't worry, Casanova, I won't stand in your way as you try to woo the hapless nun."

Issei's face turned red as he stammered. "Wha- bu- I-"

"Relax. I'm just messing with you," Connor assured through a chuckle, though Issei didn't seem to find it that funny.

Connor's joke wasn't simply to poke fun at Issei, but rather to mask his frustration of the problem at hand. He wanted to make this pickup as quick and simple as possible, and there couldn't have been a worse time for any Devil to show up, much less the pervert. While he could simply tell Issei to back off, he had a feeling that the kid would get Rias involved and draw a lot of unwanted attention to both the magus and the nun.

Still, maybe all wasn't lost. Issei was sour about doing grunt work, which meant that he wasn't brainwashed or conditioned into absolute loyalty, at least not yet. If Connor played this right and convinced Issei to keep quiet about Asia, then maybe he could stall a confrontation. A little bit of extra time was all he could hope for now.

The trio didn't get very in their walk to the church before their attention was drawn to the cry of a child nearby. He was sitting in the grass, holding his knee and whimpering while his mother hovered over him to inspect the injury. Connor and Issei were of the like mind to dismiss it and move on, but Asia broke off and approached the boy.

She lightly comforted the boy before moving her hands over the scrape. To the surprise of everyone present, two silver rings suddenly appeared on Asia's middle fingers, and a green orb of light emerged from her palms to cover the boy's knee.

Looking closer, Connor could see that the lost skin actually reappear in sequence going from bottom to top, in complete opposite of the way the kid likely got the scrape. When she was finished, it looked like nothing had ever happened.

'Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. That's Twilight Healing? That's not just accelerating the natural healing process. It's almost like time reversal within a Bounded Field! Would that mean no scarring from bigger wounds? If so…'

It made perfect sense now why the value of this Gear was no exaggeration. Something like that made Asia a prime target for anyone remotely familiar with the supernatural. Anyone. The mother hurriedly ushered her child away, but couldn't stop the boy from letting out a parting "Arigatō , onee-chan!" to which Issei translated.

Asia explained that what they witnessed was a gift granted to her from God, but her expression said that it came with a lot of heartache. The Devil looked like he wanted to say something to cheer her up, but decided against it, for fear of upsetting her.

They continued their trek to the church and arrived about ten minutes later. From a first glance, Connor could tell that Issei had been on the mark about it. Judging by the broken windows, the chipping paint and the amount of visible dry rot, it didn't look like the dilapidated place of worship had seen a soul in years.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Issei asked, his tone more rigid than it was before.

"Yes, this is it! Thank you both for guiding me!" Asia didn't seem to notice his unease over her own joy of finding the church.

"Uh… Issei," Connor began, "you've been here longer than I have. When was the last time you saw somebody coming and going here?"

"People used to come here, when I was a kid, but not that I remember recently. Why?"

'Because I need you to buy this.'

"Because, looking at it now, I've got a really bad feeling about this place."

"You, too?" Connor looked to see from Issei's expression that the words came out almost reflexively.

"Yeah. Hey, Asia, stay here with Issei for a minute. I'm… I'm gonna take a look inside."

"Eh? Is everything-"

"I just want to check something, I'll be right back, don't worry."

"Okay. Be careful."

He waved as he walked forward in a last reassurance. When he reached the double-door entrance, he found that the handles were still intact, but barely held in place. It wouldn't take much force to open either side, and he hoped that the hinges were still working. They were, to his relief, and the right side door creaked and squeaked open slowly, letting in the evening sun's light to guide the building's newest visitor.

Stepping in past the door and into the foyer, his eyes wandered from wall to wall and everywhere in between, taking in as much detail of the place as possible.

In its prime, the little church might have held about one hundred or so people comfortably at maximum capacity. Christianity was a very minor faith in Japan compared to Buddhism and Shinto, so even this could be considered pretty big for a small town church.

The sunlight streaming, or rather straining, through the broken windows and occasional hole in the roof cast an eerie atmosphere within the old wooden building. It was easy to see that the years of neglect and the elements had not been kind to this house of God. Most of the walls had lost their white paint, what floorboards that weren't completely rotted groaned with every step he took toward the front, and even the supporting columns running along the length of the chapel looked like they were wearing away, too. A layer of dust gathered upon the pulpit at the altar and every pew left standing suggested that no one had been in the church for a very long time.

The two rows of pews at the front told a different story; there wasn't as much dust on them for the simple reason that somebody had attempted to use them recently. He could tell by the trails left by fingers dragged across the tops, the handprints on one pew that were angled facing forward for stability, and a spot where someone had attempted to sit down but almost fell through. In truth, those areas looked rather fresh.

This place wasn't as deserted as Issei claimed (not that he could've known), but that was far more worrisome than it simply being empty. Somebody was still waiting for Asia there. Likely the exorcists Tobio had mentioned.

Taking one last quick glance around, Connor made for the door, being careful where he stepped. Upon passing the doorway, he was relieved to see that Issei and Asia were still right where he left them before.

He shook his head as he rejoined them. "I don't know what else to tell you, Asia, but there is nobody there. I looked in every room, and it looks like there hasn't been anybody in there for years."

Her eyes widened. "B-but… I was told that this was the church…"

"I'm sorry, Asia, but there really is nothing in there. Plus, the building's in pretty bad condition, too. Honestly, I think a strong enough wind could knock it all down."

"Well, in that case, she shouldn't go in," Issei declared, a bit abruptly.

"No argument there, but… that leaves us with another problem. Asia, did the people who sent you say anything about a different place you could stay in case… this didn't work out?" Connor asked.

"No… I was only told to look for the church." Her eyes fell and there was a tremble in her voice now. It was hard to look at.

"Well, you could come to my house," Issei offered hastily. Connor shot him a look that went unnoticed as he continued. "I've got a guest room that would be fine for a while. My parents wouldn't say no, so that won't be a problem."

"O-oh, no. I… I don't want to impose…" Asia tried to decline.

"Issei, quick word with you. One second, Asia, we'll be right here." Connor lightly nudged him aside, leaving both of the younger teens confused.

Connor leaned in to whisper. "Issei, before you go making offers like that, think things through. You saw that Sacred Gear of hers. Can you imagine the lengths that people would go to just to get a tool that heals anything for themselves? Someone coming after her could put you and your family at risk if she were to stay at your house."

"Y-Wait, you know that was a Sacred Gear?"

"I know a lot of things, but that's beside the point. Look, if she just finds an apartment here in town and keeps her head down for a little while, then maybe whatever shady freak duped her into coming here and tried getting her to go in there," he pointed emphatically to the run-down chapel, "might lose her trail."

From a logical standpoint, it was a shot in the dark, and if the Fallen were still in town, it would definitely not be that easy. It still wasn't, since he didn't know just how many Stray exorcists there were, but Connor was just hoping that Issei would be naïve enough in his concern for Asia that he would believe it. Luckily, it seemed to work. The younger male looked to be seriously weighing the options.

"Okay. We'll… we'll give it a shot. Geez, man, when did you get so paranoid?" Issei spoke a little louder now, slightly assured by the American's words.

"I'm not paranoid, Issei. I'm proactive." Connor's voice took a lighter tone to soften the mood.

"What's the difference?"

"Well, the difference is that one is an adjective and the other is mental sickness."

"Umm…" Their attention was drawn back to the nun, who stood by nervously.

"Sorry about that, Asia. Okay, Issei and I talked it over, and we're going to see if we can get you set up with an apartment here in town. Would that be alright?"

"Um… okay. Thank you very much. But… I don't have much money."

"That's okay, don't worry. I think I know just the place you could go."

---

Connor, Asia and Issei sat in seiza in the main gathering room of Watanabe's house, waiting for him to return after he had adjourned himself.

A combination of subtle hypnosis and a mild exaggeration of Asia's story were enough to convince the landlord to allow her to live in the apartment next door to Connor free of charge for one week. If Connor tried for any longer, he suspected that he would get Asia into more trouble than was needed. Issei had caught on, it seemed, because he noticed the somewhat glazed look in Watanabe's eyes when Connor told the story. He looked to the magus while the old man had gone to get the paperwork for a temporary lease, and only saw Connor put a finger to his lips while looking pointedly at him.

When Watanabe returned, he presented Asia with the forms but, to her embarrassment, she was unable to read them. He assured her that was alright, as the story Connor told him mentioned as much. With advice from Connor and translation from Issei, she worked out an agreement with him to simply stay until she could get on her feet, be it a part-time job or a scholarship at the local academy.

That got Connor thinking.

Once the meeting was finished and Asia was given the key, the trio of students dismissed themselves and set to work getting Asia settled into her new residence. With the stars in Asia's eyes, one would think the two had just landed her a premium suite in a luxury hotel. She marveled at every room, every appliance, every piece of furniture, everything in a place of living that most people would take for granted. It was a heartwarming sight, but at the same time humbling.

While she joyously inspected the apartment, Issei confronted Connor.

"Hey, what was with the landlord? What did you do?" he quietly asked.

"Trade secret. Keep what you saw today between us, Issei. And don't tell anybody that Asia has that Sacred Gear. It's for her own safety."

"Okay, how do you know what a Sacred Gear is? Are you really going to look out for her, or are you just taking advantage of her?" Issei all but demanded to know, having lost patience with Connor's evasiveness.

"Calm down," Connor rebuked evenly. "Let's just say that I've been involved in the supernatural for a long time, and I know what to be wary of. And as for Asia, I wouldn't have brought her here if I didn't genuinely want to help her. Mr. Watanabe takes good care of the place, and the neighbors here look out for each other. And then there's me; I'm here when I'm not at school. You don't have to worry about a thing, Issei. I'm asking you to trust me on this, if nothing else. I'll make sure that she stays safe."

For the longest time, Issei just stared at him. Connor didn't know it was possible for him to look so dead serious about something other than breasts. Perhaps he had misjudged the kid. Finally, Issei's expression relaxed.

"Okay. I'll hold you to that." He looked at his phone and grimaced. "I need to get going. Buchō's probably going to scold me for being late to get back. Asia! I'm sorry, but I need to go!"

"Oh!" She came bounding out from the bedroom. "Thank you very much for all your help today, Mr. Issei!" She deeply bowed, almost completely horizontal before straightening. "I hope we'll see each other again soon."

"Yeah, me too, Asia. I'll see you around. Good night."

"Good night."

Once the door fully closed, Connor looked to Asia and saw her still looking at the door, with her bright smile having never left her face.

"Mr. Issei is very nice."

"Yeah. I definitely saw another side of him today." For all his perverted tendencies and awkwardness around an actual girl, Issei Hyōdō seemed like a guy who would readily lend a hand to any girl that was in need of help. Chivalrous, to be sure, but Connor wasn't holding his breath. The kid was a Devil now, albeit a fledgling, and time would tell if the motivations for that chivalry were true.

"Alright, let's make sure you're squared away for the night," Connor declared, moving to face the nearest wall, and began to draw the first series of reinforcement runes in earnest.

'Algiz, Hagalaz, Uruz, Thurisa-'

"Mr. Connor, what are you doing?" Asia's question made him pause.

"Setting up security measures, magic defenses," he summarized before continuing. "I did the same thing with my apartment. With these in place, you should be safe from mostly anything on the outside."

"Are you a magician?"

"No, I'm a magus. We're… different from what you may know to be magicians. And I…" He stopped working and lowered his arms to his sides, turning to face her. What he said next could scar their relationship forever, but he felt compelled to say it. He was going to have to tell her eventually, but he would prefer that his actions not be used against him down the line.

"And I've been lying to you from the moment I met you."

Her eyes never left his, but now they bore a look of confusion.

"I already knew your name before you even got to Kuoh, I knew you were coming here, I know the Grigori have been taking care of you recently, and I know what happened with you and the Church." She flinched at the latter, and he found himself regretting his choice of words immediately.

'Shit.'

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I won't say any more on the subject, if you don't want me to."

"Then… are you with the Grigori?" she asked.

"In a sense. It wasn't my first choice, but I kind of put myself into a corner with that. I got in trouble with them, and now I have to pay off my damages by doing little jobs here and there. They told me you were coming."

"What about the church? Was it empty?"

"At that moment, it was, but based on what I've been told, I think a group of rogue exorcists are camping there. Rogues that have nothing but bad intentions for you."

A long, uncomfortable silence lingered between the two, Connor looking down and Asia holding her hands to her chest, both trying to find the right words.

"Anyway, I just wanted to get that out there and… apologize… for misleading you. And for… bringing up bad memories." He turned away, not wanting to look her in the eyes anymore. He waited to hear some kind of reaction. When he heard nothing, he figured that she was going with the silent treatment. With a small nod of understanding, he focused back to where he-

"It's okay, Mr. Connor."

He stopped and turned back to her. He'd been expecting her to lash out, start crying, or even yell at him and tell him to get out and leave her alone. But there were no tears in her eyes, or any sign that she was even upset.

She was smiling.

"I'm not angry. You told the truth, and you're helping me now, so I'm happy." If anything, her forgiving his deception made him feel even more guilty. The sincerity in her voice was almost painful to hear.

"I trust you."

At times, words can be more powerful than bullets. Right now, he just felt like he'd been shot.

"Er… I… right… okay."

Connor found it difficult to concentrate on his work after that.

---

He finished with the reinforcement runes and tied the sensor runes outside her apartment to the ones on his own in about one hour. A bit longer than he expected. The rest of the night was spent showing her the basic necessities of living in an apartment, in particular, how to handle the kitchen. He served her a light dinner, and by 7:00 P.M., Asia seemed more than ready to just go to bed. It had been a very trying couple of days for the exiled nun.

Connor now stood outside the apartment door. "My apartment is right next door to the left. I'll be there in case you need help with something."

"Thank you, Mr. Connor."

"Just Connor is fine. And… you're welcome. I'll stop by in the morning to check on you before I head to school. Good night, Asia."

"Good night."

Even after Asia closed the door, Connor stood there looking down, replaying the events of the last few hours in his head. His mind still ran rampant as he went inside his own apartment and moved through his nightly routine. After finishing with brushing his teeth and giving a final rinse, he stood hunched over the sink.

'It would be so easy just to turn her over to somebody else and walk away. Forget that she even existed. Move on with my life. It wouldn't really be a change of pace for her; she's been exploited for her Gear her entire life. Hell, now that I think about it, I'm doing the exact same thing. I just locked her up! So why does she not even care? You do not smile after getting treated like that. How does someone who's been betrayed to the extent that she has forgive that easily? Why would she trust someone that easily? It doesn't make sense!'

He ran his hand down his face in exasperation, and looked into the mirror. His reflection just stared back. Not necessarily judging him, but neither was it reassuring him of anything.

His sleep wasn't very restful that night.

---

…

(1): Japanese cooking technique where an ingredient is lightly coated with flour and deep-fried. Usually chicken, but can be fish or vegetables.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 4: Another Side

If one word could accurately describe Issei's life within the last ten days, it would be: chaotic.

Last Sunday, he went on his first ever date with a girl named Yuuma Amano. It was a dream come true for the second-year student, to take his first steps away from the life of a lonely pervert and begin working toward his dream of becoming a Harem-King. Or at least, he thought that he did. He woke up on Monday morning, with almost no memory of what happened as the sun went down that night, and nobody had a clue what he was talking about; not his parents, not his two friends, not any of his classmates at all. Everybody looked at him like he was crazy, like Yuuma didn't even exist.

And that was another thing: For the next several days after his phantasmal date, he noticed that he felt very sluggish in the mornings. Almost like he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before when in fact he did. Furthermore, the longer he stayed in direct sunlight, the more disoriented he felt. It was like a large spotlight was shining full blast in his face. He was often ducking between every bit of shade he could find between home and school and back.

On the positive side, there were some aspects to whatever happened on Sunday that somewhat evened the field. In his mad dashes for cover in the mornings, he found that he could move faster than he remembered doing before. It wasn't by much, but it was still noticeable. At night, to his surprise, he was also more sensitive to sounds and could see clearly in pitch-black darkness. He could even understand everything his English teacher was saying in class, and it was all nonsense to him just last week!

It wasn't until Wednesday that he learned what was going on with him. Classes had just come to an end when Yūto Kiba of all people came into the room asking for him. He didn't say much until the two were out of earshot of the lamenting fangirls (of both Rias and himself). Once they were clear, he explained that Rias Gremory, the President of the Occult Research Club, wanted to speak with about something important, but he wouldn't say exactly what. Just that she would explain everything.

The moment he walked into the main meeting room, Rias Gremory greeted him by name, to his inner joy, with a warm smile from her desk. One by one, the beautiful redhead introduced the club's members; the gentlemanly Yūto Kiba, the stoic Koneko Tōjō, the tantalizing Akeno Himejima, and herself, the venerable President.

Upon asking what Rias wanted to talk to him about, she delivered the ultimate shock. The supernatural was real, and everyone in the club, including Issei himself, was a Devil.

She began her explanation of the supernatural with a history lesson of sorts, including the Three Factions and the Great War that left all sides in shambles in its aftermath. The Devils were especially hard hit, given the massive casualties from that war as well as a civil war that followed soon after, their already low birth rates, and their innate vulnerabilities to anything related to the Biblical God. As such, in the years following the war, a new system to repopulate the race was implemented by way of transforming humans and other species into Devils. These newly minted Devils were to become servants to the high-class Devils that reincarnated them.

From there, she told him everything that happened on Sunday, from her standpoint: When she first became aware of the Fallens' presence in Kuoh, up to reincarnating him in the park, and in turn making him her servant, after his 'date' had put a spear in his gut (though not in those exact words).

Issei wanted to be angry –furious, even– that she knew about his killer and her cohorts and simply let them murder him. Rias or not, it was his life! But before he could tell her off, what she did next shocked him again.

In an almost complete reversal of station, she stood from her desk, approached him, and bowed in a full standing saikeirei. While bowed, she expressed her regret in having been partially responsible for his death, and apologized for reincarnating him without his express consent. Her flowing crimson hair kept her face from view, but the genuine remorse in her voice was undeniable. (1)

At a loss to say anything else, he accepted her apology. When he asked why he could barely remember any of that evening, she and Akeno speculated that his mind may have partitioned those memories as a means of suppressing the trauma he felt. She promised him that she had done nothing to alter or influence his mind at the time of his reincarnation, and offered to help him in any way she could if the memories came back.

Having cleared the air between them, Rias continued her lecture about what his new life would lead to. Among other things, he could attain power, wealth, respect, learn to fly and use magic.

All well and good, but the moment she told him of the possibility of gaining his own servants, which could lead into making a harem, he was sold. No longer would he wallow in self-pity for what he had lost, no more wondering about the what-ifs of things to come. His path was clear: Become a high-class Devil and, in turn, become the Harem King! With no further persuasion needed, he humbly asked (read: begged) to begin the process right away.

Much of the rest of that week was devoted to a crash course in Devil history, business and social etiquette, and working with his Sacred Gear. Currently, there was no success on the latter front. When he wasn't being personally tutored by Rias on something, he was out and about passing around flyers for contracts. It was menial work, something that familiars did regularly, and Rias had explained as much. It was, however, the easiest way to get his face known to potential clients, and he wouldn't be stuck with flyer duty for very long.

Come Sunday night, he saw a vastly different aspect of the Devil's life than what he expected. Granted, he didn't exactly know what to expect, but this wasn't it.

There were no contracts for anybody that night, because an order came down from someone called an Arch Duke about hunting a Stray Devil called Vizer. Having already given Issei her lesson on the Evil Pieces and how they operated, she decided to take him along to demonstrate their power to him first-hand. She told him that he would be strictly observing, much to his relief. His mind was still reeling from all that he had learned in just the last three days alone.

The group tracked the Devil to an old warehouse on the edge of town that was forgotten after the company that owned it closed down for good. Koneko had identified the scent of blood straight away, which put everyone on alert. True to her word, there was blood everywhere inside, yet not a single body was to be found. It wasn't long into their search of the premises that the culprit made its presence known.

While initially distracted by her voluptuous upper body, Issei quickly realized what a monster she was. Her head and topless torso were humanoid, but she had a beast-like lower body, four legs of which were shaped like two humanoid arms at the front and two feline legs at the back, and a gaping mouth in the middle of her stomach lined with freakishly large teeth. Everything about that creature was like something out of a horror or dark fantasy video game.

Despite all that, Rias and her group made absolute mince meat of the monstrous Stray. Kiba cleanly severing her front legs, Koneko sending her flying into a wall with one punch, and Akeno frying her with lightning magic until he could smell the charred flesh. Rias' Power of Destruction, as it was called, left not even a trace of blood behind as she obliterated the Stray upon its last request:

"Kill me."

He asked Rias if it was like this for all Strays, if all they had to look forward to was death. That wasn't always the case, according to her, since it was entirely possible for Strays to return to their masters alive and reform if they hadn't been too far mutated by the Evil Piece bound to them. She promised him that he would never have to worry about that at any rate, since she had no intention of ever mistreating him.

It was all so much to take in, but for better or worse, he was in this for the long haul. And if it meant achieving his dream, it would be worth it.

---

Back to Tuesday night, a little over a week into his Devil tenure, Issei arrived at the old schoolhouse.

It had been a busier day than he thought it would be. Contracts with two new clients (one of which was going to take a lot of time getting used to), followed by meeting two people he hadn't expected to meet in one place: Connor, the foreign exchange student from America, and Asia, a nun who was quite possibly the nicest girl he had ever met.

When he looked at Asia in the eyes, it was like the whole world stopped. He was face-to-face with one of his ideal girls: Bright green eyes, blonde hair that shined like gold in the sun, an expression of absolute innocence. She was as natural of a beauty as Rias and Akeno, in her own special way.

He wasn't sure what to think when she claimed to have been assigned to the church in town. Even before becoming a Devil, he had never been there. He always found it to be a bit creepy. The chills down his spine he felt from looking at the old church now told him all he needed to know about that place: Stay Away. He was just glad that Asia didn't stay there, and especially glad that Connor lent his aid to her.

Issei was surprised when he actually met Connor. The American was different than what he had expected. Some of the rumors at school said that he was a friendly guy, others made him out to be a hermit, and the more extreme stories claimed that he was a spy for the United States government. He had no idea how someone came to that conclusion. Issei had chalked him up to being another pretty boy that went for the lone wolf act.

That being said, Connor turned out to be pretty mild-mannered. At least he did, up until he loosely explained his being fully aware of the supernatural. If he knew about Sacred Gears, how much did he know about Devils, or Fallen, or anything else related to the Three Factions?

'Something for later,' he dismissed, opening the door to the ORC's meeting room. Rias was at her desk with Akeno by her side, and Kiba and Koneko were seated on one of the couches.

"I'm back, Buchō," he greeted.

"Ise, have a seat."

He was expecting a reception like this, being late to get back and all, but Rias's voice was a little more icy than he was prepared for. Stiffly, he placed himself in one of the chairs facing her desk.

"You've got some explaining to do."

"W-What do you-"

"You were taking so long to get back, I was getting concerned. So I sent my familiar to look for you. Imagine my surprise when I find that not only are you in the company of one Connor Lochlainn, someone you've never spoken to prior to today, but also the company of a nun of the Catholic Church."

Suddenly, Issei felt incredibly small. He hadn't considered it then, but here in the hot seat, it was entirely possible that she would be mad at him for what he did.

"U-Um… she was just in town and wanted to know where the church was. I didn't think that there was any harm in showing her there. She was nice, so I thought it would be okay."

"Ise, I'm all for allowing you to meet new people and make new friends, but there are some people that you simply cannot be friends with. Don't ever go near that girl again. As Devils, we cannot associate with members of the Church. Exorcists, especially. They will kill you without a second thought."

The bit about exorcists didn't make much sense. What did they have to do with this? "But, Buchō, I-"

"No buts. This is not up for debate. You got lucky that they decided not to attack you in the first place, even more so when you and Connor left with her still following you two."

"Who's they?" Issei blurted, mustering the courage to speak up, "Buchō, he said no one was in there!"

"And you believed him?"

That rapid response made him pause. Why did he believe Connor?

"W-Well, he said it was dangerous inside the church, that it might collapse really easily," he stumbled at first for an answer.

"While that may be true, Ise, you only met him just today, right? He doesn't know you, and you don't know him. The only prior connection between you two is a game that he invented to torment you and your friends. He could have been lying to you."

"That's-… I…"

He had almost forgotten about that game. He had been so preoccupied with Devil business in the last few days that he barely had any time to spend with Matsuda and Motohama. And from what he heard, the hunts never stopped just because he wasn't there.

At that moment, a flyer began to flash among the stack on Rias' desk. Someone was calling for a contract.

"Ugh, not now," Rias groaned, annoyed at the bad timing.

"I'll take care of it," Koneko volunteered, standing up.

Taking the flyer in her hand, she wordlessly walked to the teleportation circle in the corner of the room. Within moments, the first-year vanished in a flash of light.

"Back to the matter at hand," Rias continued. "Ise, my familiar only told me what she saw, but not what was said between the three of you. I assume there's more to the story than what you've already shared. What exactly did Connor say to you after you left the church grounds?"

Issei hesitated. He wanted to tell Rias that everything was okay, and that Connor hadn't done anything suspicious. Sadly, he wasn't the best of actors, or even a good liar. Anything he said would easily be called out by any one of the three people there.

"Ise, this is important. I wouldn't be asking you to tell me if it wasn't," Rias pressured.

He flinched and relented, unable to stand the look she was giving him.

"He said-"

Before he could finish, a seal of the Gremory house placed on the corner of Rias' desk began to flash a bright red.

"What is that?"

"Koneko!"

Everyone except Issei jumped to their feet in surprise. Issei stood up as well, but out of confusion.

"H-Hey, what's going on?"

"That's the emergency beacon!" Akeno explained. "Something's happened with Koneko. We have to go, now!"

Not needing to be told twice, he bolted for the circle and stood next to Rias as the other gathered around her.

"We'll finish this later, Ise, but Koneko needs help."

He got no chance to answer as the circle flashed brightly and the room was left completely empty.

---

Emerging from the teleportation circle, Rias and her peerage were greeted with a grisly sight.

Unlike the warehouse that the Stray Devil Vizer had inhabited, this was just a house not unlike the many that they visited to fulfill contracts. Unfortunately, that's where any dissimilarities ended. Blood was splashed across every surface of the darkened living room the group found themselves in. No wall or piece of furniture was left unmarred. The worst of it, however, was the decapitated human body against the wall furthest from the door.

Long rapier-like swords were pierced into the body's hands, feet and torso, and the body itself was nailed to the wall in a position resembling an upside down crucifix. Blood slowly dripped from the stump where the person's head used to be, adding to the vast pool beneath it. Painted in blood to the right of the hanging corpse were the words, 'Retributionem peccatorum videbis.' While everyone recoiled at the grotesque display, Issei couldn't stop himself from vomiting. (2)

A groan brought everyone's attention to the center of the floor, where Koneko lay on her side with her legs curled up to her chest and her arms holding her abdomen. A small pool of blood was forming underneath her, and her face was twisted in pain. That was an expression that Issei had never seen before on Koneko, and hoped he wouldn't see again after this. It really had no place on her.

"Koneko!" Rias exclaimed, making to rush to her Rook's side.

"STOP! GET DOWN!"

Koneko's strained yell was their only warning before the sound of gunfire blasted through the room. Issei could've sworn he felt something fly just millimeters next to his ear as he ducked. The ORC members scattered and found cover behind whatever furniture in the room that was closest.

A crazed laughter could be heard over the ringing in everyone's ears.

"The gang's all here, yeah?! Alright, now it's a party!"

From behind a large chair, Issei got a look at the speaker. It was a young man, probably not much older than him. Clothed in a bloodstained white shirt and pants and a dark gray overcoat, his straight white hair reached to his shoulders, and his red eyes and sinister expression promised nothing but pain to anyone he set his sights on. In his left hand was a very long-barreled pistol that he seemed to have no issue using only one hand to wield, while his right hand leisurely held a sword whose blade seemed composed of solid light.

Kiba swung around to the side of the room to draw the attacker's attention, and Akeno pulled up a sofa to provide cover for Rias as she tended to Koneko. Issei stayed close to Rias and Akeno, wanting to help but not knowing what to do in this situation. Looking over Rias' shoulder, he could see blood coming from the first-year's stomach between her fingers.

"I'm sorry, I panicked… I was the bait… hurts to move…" Koneko ground out through clenched teeth.

"Don't talk, Koneko, I've got you," Rias comforted while she assessed the wound, both front and back. "No exit wound. Ise, keep your head down. Akeno and Kiba can handle this."

"Who is this guy?" Issei asked, a little loud thanks to the ringing in his ears.

"An exorcist. I'll explain once we're safe," Rias cut the conversation short.

While she worked, Kiba created a double-edged straight sword with his Sacred Gear and charged. His quick slashes were met head on with precise one-handed parries and wide unpredictable arcs. Kiba would never say it to this man's face, but he was good. No amount of attacks managed to slip through his guard, even with Akeno providing fire support.

"You're going to pay for what you did," Kiba stated resolutely.

"Aww, concerned about your tiny friend there? That's sweet. So sweet, I might just vomit in my own mouth. So, between you and the, uh… toothpick back there, which one are you; the big spoon or the little spoon?"

Kiba said nothing in rebuttal and pressed the attack. Not that the man looked concerned about it one little bit. Between trading blows with the Knight and dodging the occasional blast of magic fired from the Queen, he looked to be thoroughly enjoying himself with the fight.

Rias stood to her feet, having staunched the bleeding on Koneko's stomach for the moment, and faced the man with a piercing glare. "So, you trespass into my territory, kill one of my clients, harm my precious servant, and you have the gall to crack jokes? You must simply be begging to die, good sir."

The psychopath shrugged, giving a facetious grin. "Not really, sugar tits. That's more at the bottom of my to-do list. I just wanted to see if Black Keys were good for anything other than to exorcise shitty devils like you. Turns out, they make for great nails. I mean, look at that guy. I did all that before I cut off his head, and he was thrashing around like a man possessed." He paused to mockingly convulse and blubber as if reenacting his victim's suffering. "When I saw the little flyer on his desk, it all made sense. I tried getting to the root of the problem, but then the little shit starting swinging at me the moment she saw me. Rude!"

"He shot me… before I even left the circle… He was waiting for me!"

The exorcist rolled his eyes and huffed. "Okay, yeah, so I shot her first. Get all persnickety about the little details, why don't we? Anyway, I'm glad you're all here, because now we can decorate the whole house wi-" he stopped mid-rant, his eyes fixating on Akeno, who was glaring daggers at him.

"Oh, I know that look! Those are the eyes of a natural-born killer! I think you and I could get along, even if you are a shitty devil. What'dya say, big sis? Wanna go slaughter a room full of brats after this? Maybe stab some people on the way? It'll be a great bonding experience."

"Do not call me that. I am not like you," Akeno growled, disgusted at the very thought.

"No, no, no. Don't you be modest!" he chided, wagging his finger at her like she was a child. "I can tell just by looking at you. Hell, my mural pushed a few of your buttons, didn't it? You're a genuine sadist. You see somebody on the ground, writhing around in agony, like your tiny friend there, and you think to yourself, "I should really help that along," and the thought of stomping on their throat and watching the life leave their eyes is-"

"Enough!"

The killer's fantasy was interrupted by Kiba rushing to attack again from behind. He brought his own blade to bear in a split-second and blocked the strike to his neck. Both swords locked, and he glowered down at the blond.

"Here's a tip, shithead! If you're gonna sneak attack someone," He broke the lock and brought his gun to bear at Kiba. "Do it quietly!" He fired six shots in rapid succession, all of which missed their mark but forced Kiba to keep his distance. "Honestly, what're you shitty devils teaching your pets these days, eh? No brains or manners whatsoever!"

"You're one to talk, with a foul mouth like that," Kiba rebuked.

"At least I'm honest with myself, boy scout!" the man sneered right back. "As long as I get to kill what I want, when I want, especially you shitty devils, I couldn't care less who tells me where to go!"

Akeno readied her next barrage of lightning, but stopped and turned to her left. "Buchō, we need to leave. I can sense more people coming."

"Issei, pick up Koneko and get behind us! You too, Kiba, get back here!" Rias commanded. Kiba acknowledged by charging again, but with extra force, pushing his opponent back and over a dining room chair, sending him falling to the floor.

"Don't touch my butt," Koneko warned Issei, making him blink.

"Uh- okay, yeah, no problem," he hastily agreed. For such a small and cute girl, she could hit hard with both her words and her attacks. The shattered teeth from Vizer's mutated stomach had been all proof he needed for the latter. He looped her arm over his shoulders and held her by the waist, lifting her up to standing height. Kiba, having sped back to the group, kept his defensive position between his King and the priest.

"Oh, hell no! You're not leaving!" the exorcist yelled, rushing toward the group with his weapon reared back for an overhead strike.

"Buzz off." Despite her pain, Koneko grabbed the sofa and hurled it in the priest's path like it was a tin can, forcing him to abandon his attack and forward momentum. It was just the diversion they needed.

Within the next moment, they were gone in another bright flash, leaving no evidence of their ever being there, aside from the blood spilled by Koneko's wound.

The madman hissed in outrage, his plan having been thwarted, then turned his anger to the sofa, hacking it to pieces while shouting obscenities with every swing of his light sword. His fit of rage was finished by the time three more men, dressed in similar vestments to himself, appeared through the living room door with weapons drawn.

"Freed, what happened? Did you find the girl?" the first of the three new arrivals demanded.

He turned to them and snarled, "You assholes couldn't get here any quicker? Fuck, you're slow! No, she wasn't here, but this house had a Devil's contract slip lying around. Figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Y'know, cleanse the sinner, purge the Devil, it was a win-win. Or at least, it would've been, if you guys hadn't dragged your fucking feet!"

"So you gave away our presence here?! God damn it, Freed! We're trying to lay low, and you do this?!" the second man exclaimed.

The youngest of the four rogues coldly approached the older man and smoothly leveled his gun at his face, forcing him to stare down the barrel. "You are just as bored as I am waiting around for that slut of a nun. I just decided to do something about all this down time. And those shitty Devils? They were gonna find out eventually, anyway. Somebody was gonna screw up and get us caught, so I decided to take the first shot. And speaking of…" he trailed off, grinning menacingly at seeing the man's face lose color.

"Freed."

"What?!" he snapped, turning around.

"Was this really necessary?" the first man asked, pointing to the body on the wall. Both he and the third exorcist could barely look at the mess.

"Oh," Freed uttered calmly, almost instantly forgetting his earlier agitation. "Killing him, or making a decoration out of him?"

"The second."

"No. But it was pretty fun." His manic smile and deranged cackling sent shivers down his compatriots' spines, making them wonder if keeping him around was worth the risk. (3)

---

"There are two kinds of exorcists you'll likely see in your lifetime, Ise."

Presently, Rias addressed Issei in the main meeting room, with Kiba remaining to the side with his arms crossed and his expression firm. Issei had passed Koneko to Akeno for treatment of her injury, and the two had only just exited the room when Rias began her new lesson.

"The first are the ones that adhere to their creed and devote themselves to exorcising Devils and hunting beings that the Church deems to be evil. While dangerous to us in and of themselves, normal exorcists are nothing compared to the ones like what you saw tonight: the Strays."

"Strays?"

Rias nodded. "They are exorcists who grow far too fond of the act of killing Devils. It becomes a sport to them instead of a job, and they become ruthlessly indiscriminate killers in the process. Many times, such exorcists are disavowed and expelled from the Church, or even executed if a charged crime is severe enough. Exorcists that get thrown out often find employ under the Fallen Angels, since they share a passion for killing Devils with little to no restraint."

"And where you see one, there's bound to be at least one or more that you don't see," Kiba added, bringing his arms to his sides. "Stray exorcists never operate alone. I thought it was strange that he was by himself, but if reinforcements were nearby, that means we have a new infestation to deal with."

"So, what do we do now?" Issei asked, overwhelmed by all this new information.

"We're going to be careful from now on. I'll have a plan outlined for everybody to hear by tomorrow. Come to the club room as soon as school is out. If you come across anyone suspicious in the meantime, do not make contact. Avoid confrontation as best you can. This isn't how I wanted you to first learn about exorcists, Ise, but I hope that you've come to understand just how dangerous the situation is."

"Uh… yeah, I get it now."

Just his damned luck. He meets the one girl that perfectly fit his longest running fantasy –surpassed it, even– and now he can't so much as speak to her anymore? Why was life so unfair?

His downtrodden thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a soft hand cupping his left cheek. He looked up to see Rias giving him a warm, compassionate smile that threatened to liquidate his heart.

"You're my servant, Ise. Your safety, everyone's safety, is my responsibility. I won't take it lightly." She pulled away, to his displeasure, and put on her air of authority once again. "So, on that note, let me be clear: Don't go near the church again, and until I say otherwise, steer clear of Connor Lochlainn as well. Understand?"

"Y- Yes, ma'am."

Rias nodded. "It's getting late, so you should head home for the day. Kiba, go with Ise to his house, then teleport back. I don't want anyone getting caught alone while there are exorcists running around town at night."

"Of course."

"Great, I'm being escorted by a bishōnen," Issei grumbled. Kiba only chuckled awkwardly.

"It's only for a little while, Issei."

"You're both dismissed."

The two boys bowed and turned to leave.

Rias put her thumb to her lips as they quietly walked out, lightly biting the nail. The lack of recent activity from the Fallen Angels had certainly been suspicious, but if they had been calling in Stray exorcists to make up the numbers, it would make sense. Contracts would have to wait until the problem was sorted out. As much as she wanted to go on a manhunt for these killers, it was too risky.

Any further plan of action required knowing whether or not Connor was a threat, and if so, what to do with him. Was Connor a part of the Church, one of the Strays, or a completely rogue element?

One way or another, she had to speak with Sona about this. Taking a sheet of paper from a drawer in her desk and scrawled a short message to her fellow King, then held her hand out to invoke a magic circle. From it, her adorable familiar appeared in its true bat-like form.

"Get this to Sona, immediately," she commanded.

The little bat chirped and clutched the letter in its claws before setting out through the window. With that done, Rias could now focus on more immediate matters. She stood up and walked briskly from the meeting room to the bedroom where Akeno had taken Koneko.

The furthest door in the east wing housed the room specially reworked for the use of healing magic. Prior to remodeling, it was the one private bedroom in the building that was slightly bigger than all the others. Now, it featured a lavish queen-size bed in the center, with numerous magic sigils on the walls and the bed itself designed to strengthen the effectiveness of the 'skinship' healing method used by both Rias and Akeno. Rarely ever did this room see use beyond that purpose in recent history, but it more than paid for itself when it counted.

Opening the door, Rias found Akeno sitting to the side of the queen-size bed, still fully clothed and looking wistfully at the sleeping Rook. Rias wasted no time and began to disrobe.

"How is she?" she asked, her clothes falling to the floor, article by article.

"I managed to extract the bullet, so she's resting much easier now," Akeno answered, pointing to a small table near the wall. "It was a hollow point. He wanted to make her suffer, so he aimed for a painful non-lethal area. Had she been shot in the chest, she would be much worse off, even without the light poisoning. As it is, she still needs a full night's recovery."

Without another word, a fully nude Rias passed Akeno and climbed into the bed and brought the younger girl as close to her as possible, practically enveloping her.

"I'm so sorry, Koneko," she lamented, her eyes beginning to moisten. Turning over, she looked to Akeno from the corner of her eye. "I've sent my familiar to give Sona a heads-up. As soon as Koneko is healed, I'm meeting with Sona personally, and it's about time we set up a meeting with Lochlainn, too."

"Oh my~ Finally going to make your move, Buchō?" Akeno quipped, trying to get a smile or a fluster from her friend. Her smile faded as the look Rias gave her said that the heiress wasn't in the mood for jokes. "Are you sure about this?"

"I gave him the benefit of the doubt, Akeno, for over a week, but this business with the nun and now these Stray exorcists changes things. I want to know why he's really here, and what he knows. If it turns out he's some sort of agent for the Church, then I will not risk my peerage's safety with him any longer. My carelessness almost cost us Koneko, and put the rest of us in danger. I'm not taking any more chances." She turned back and closed her eyes to concentrate on the healing spell, bringing the sleeping nekoshou closer to her. "Good night, Akeno."

Akeno stayed silent as she continued to gaze at her King. Behind closed doors, her best friend really was too hard on herself sometimes. There was no way she or any of them could have known that Koneko was walking into a trap. Even so, she was right about the escalation of recent events. Tonight had been too narrow of an escape.

"Good night," she quietly said, leaving the chamber and retiring to her personal room.

She knew what was really going on. It was about more than just the exorcists. Rias' fiancée, Riser Phenex, had been pressing to move up the arranged marriage between the two, and the elders of both families had just recently passed the motion. The original agreement had been for Rias to finish college before going forward with the marriage. Rias had hoped to find a way out by then, but it seemed that was no longer on the table.

Riser was an arrogant womanizer, believing he was untouchable thanks to his immortality as a Phenex. The thought of marrying him was revolting, and a stressed Rias tended to act more aggressively or irrationally. She'd known her King long enough to see the signs. If things with Connor came to blows, she dreaded what they might be forced to do to him for something that wasn't his fault.

As Akeno drifted off to sleep, for the first time in a long time, she found herself hoping that Rias would be wrong.

---

The next morning, Asia sat at the dining room table of her apartment, waiting patiently as Connor fixed up her breakfast. Connor had offered to make her something since he already had his before coming over to check on her. She had set some random ingredients on the kitchen counter to prepare her own breakfast, but had been nervous about what to do with them until Connor arrived.

When he emerged from the kitchen after ten minutes, along with some western utensils, he presented to her something she had never seen before. He described the dish as an omurice, using white rice, ham and green peas as his choice ingredients, all of which was bundled with an omelet of fresh eggs and lightly decorated with ketchup. (4)

She wasn't sure what to make of its appearance, but it certainly smelled nice. When she took the first bite…

"How is it?"

"Mm! Delizioso!" (Delicious!) Asia's face lit up as she held a hand to her cheek. The blend of flavors was beyond anything she'd ever tasted. Having lived on soup, bread and water for most of her life, it felt amazing to experience such new things.

"Heh, glad to hear it. I'm still trying to figure out how to make it really wake you up in the morning. Maybe salt and pepper on the ham before…" His musing stopped when he noticed her suddenly distant expression. "Asia? Is everything okay?"

"Connor… can I tell you a story?"

He was confused by what she meant at first, then his eyes widened slightly. "Er- Asia, it's okay, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I… I really want someone to talk about it with me," she insisted.

Recognizing the tone in her voice, he quietly sat down across from her at the table.

She summarized her formative years as best she could, about how she was left on the doorstep of an orphanage in Italy that was funded by the Catholic Church, and about she was raised in the faith, just like everybody else there. Her life then was simple, and she'd been raised to be happy with the simple things in life, and to be thankful for what she had.

"I was always taught to be kind and patient to everybody, so that God's love would make itself aware to everyone, even to people that did not know Him.

"When I was eight years old, I found a puppy that had been hit by a car. His back legs couldn't move, and he was crying so loud. It hurt so much to see him like that. I cried and prayed to God that someone could help him. And God answered me. My Sacred Gear awakened and he was back to normal, like nothing happened. I was never so happy in my life. I felt like I had done something right all by myself.

"The matron of the orphanage saw me do it, and called it a miracle. She told the Church about it, and I was considered a 'Holy Maiden.' I was moved out of the orphanage and named a vicar."

"A vicar?" Connor asked.

"Yes. I was treated well. The people in the Church took care of me, and I got to help heal the people that needed it. I also learned what I could and couldn't do with my Sacred Gear, and I got better at healing the people that I could help. I even got to meet the Pope on my ninth birthday. I was happy to be doing my God-given duty."

She paused and looked down at the table, tears beginning to well in her eyes. "And yet… for all the kindness that people showed me, and how thankful they were for me helping them, nobody ever tried to become my friend. I was always just the Holy Maiden.

"Then, about a month ago, or something like that, I found a Devil that had been hurt. I don't know how he was hurt, but I wasn't thinking about it. I… I just can't bear the thought of leaving someone in pain. So I healed him, and he ran away without a word. Someone in the Church saw me heal him and rumors started spreading. People called me names like 'witch,' 'evil,' 'heretic' and other things. Before I even had a chance to explain myself, I was excommunicated. They told me to leave and never come back."

At this point, she was speaking between sobs, which got harder as she went on. "But… what hurt the most… was that… all the people that I knew… for my whole life… they just turned away like what I did was unforgivable… I felt like they didn't care about me at all…"

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a blubber. "It's because I'm stupid… I can't… I can't do anything by myself…

"A few days after I was excommunicated… I met Lady Raynare… and she said that she and the Grigori would take care of me. They did, but… it really wasn't any different from what happened before. I was still treated differently."

Her tears intensified. "This is one of God's trials, I always said… Since I'm so clumsy, and I… I wanted something that I didn't have… God gave me this trial… I just have to endure it…

"I know… someday… I'll be able to make friends… and go shopping for flowers… buy books with them… and just… talk…"

The dam broke there. Her face fell into her hands and her sobbing morphed into a hard and painful wail. She had never told this to anybody, and to hear it all now brought back all the pain in one fell swoop. The Bible said that God would never let you bear more than you could handle, but it hurt so much to think about it all.

She cried for a few moments before she felt a hand on her forearm. She looked up to see Connor reaching across the table, having moved her breakfast to one side.

"Asia," Connor started solemnly, "I think you've accomplished a lot more than you think."

She gave no audible reply, but he had her full attention.

"If what you went through was a trial by God, then I'd say that you weathered the storm. You're halfway around the world, and people don't know who are or what you've done, so none of that can be held against you. Unless somebody from your past goes out of their way to look for you, I really don't think you have to worry about any of that anymore. This is like a fresh start. A lot of people don't get one."

Asia's eyes widened. Was that true? "But… But I don't know anything about Japan. I'm not smart, I-"

"Then you'll learn, just like I did," he cut off her self-deprecation. "A little bit at a time, if need be. You've got nothing but time, anyway. Besides, you've already made two friends."

"W-what?" Had she, really?

"Yeah. Me, and Issei. He and I are just the first of many, I think. You're one of those people that could make friends with someone just by saying 'hello' to them."

"B-But what about the Grigori? Won't they-"

He smiled in assurance. "You let me worry about that, okay? My issues with them are mine alone. They want to talk to you, they'll have to talk to me. Just focus on your breakfast for now." With that, he stood up and went back to the kitchen. To clean up, she presumed.

Asia smiled and sniffled as a fresh tear fell down her face. She couldn't believe it. For the first time since her exile, and even before that, she felt that her most earnest prayer had been answered.

'Is this what it feels like to have a friend?'

Another one of God's blessings.

---

Connor's thoughts about his new charge occupied his mind during the entire trek to school.

Before he left, he told Asia to lock the door to her apartment and not answer it for anybody until he came back in the evening. He didn't like locking her in, but if what he suspected was correct, he wanted her to be safe while he wasn't close by. To that end, he set the security runes on both apartments at high alert.

Having heard her side of the story, he thought back to his meeting with Tobio, and some things about the whole situation still didn't add up. The Vatican was the most well defended place in Italy against supernatural entities, that was a well-known fact. And if Asia was such a widely revered 'Holy Maiden,' security around her would be similarly strict. Vicars were highly respected members of the Church's public side; it wasn't a title that was handed out freely. The way she found that Devil in those conditions was way too conspicuous. How did he get so close to her without setting off any alarms? If he was injured when she found him, why was no one giving chase in order to finish the kill, again, without raising any alarms of an intruder?

He couldn't imagine anyone in the Vatican wanting to work with a Devil in order to oust someone like Asia. Unless this Devil actually had an inside man to help him? To get him inside, then spread hearsay around in order to get her cast out. However marginal, the possibility was there. Even if that was proven false, there was no Devil crazy enough to risk infiltrating the Vatican for one person and then just give up once that person was outside its walls. He wouldn't be surprised if she was followed to Kuoh, if not by the same Devil that got her exiled, then someone working for them.

Throughout her story, Connor came to understand why Asia was the way she was. And he felt like an idiot for not seeing why she trusted him so easily.

It was because she was alone, desperate for companionship.

Her whole life was ripped away from her in the fraction of a second, with one decision. She could have had all the good intentions in the world, but it didn't seem to matter in the eyes of the people she knew (or rather, thought she knew). Add on the fact that she was almost conditioned to blame herself for everything bad that happened, so of course she would latch onto the first people to really help her. How long had she kept it all bottled up? How long had she gone without a shoulder to cry on, someone to just talk to, someone to help bear that pain?

After hearing everything, the thought of looking her in the eye and saying that he couldn't help her seemed… hard to stomach. Having her around was going to invite trouble, but he knew that before even making his rather arbitrary decision last week. Now he was in deep.

Going forward, he would need to find a way for her to provide for herself; the scholarship he was on couldn't reliably pay for both of their living expenses. For what he had in mind, it would take some work on his part to hammer out a deal.

Sticking his neck out to help someone he barely knew was just one more rash decision to add to his growing résumé.

This time, though, he didn't immediately regret it.

---

…

(1): Form of bowing that conveys utmost respect or sincerest apology.

(2): 'Punishment of the wicked' in Latin, according to Google Translate.

(3): For Freed, I was going for a mix of the canon psychopath we all know and love/hate, and the John DiMaggio version of the Joker. A bit OOC, considering that he's also a sexual fiend in canon, but I found that part of him to be distasteful to write. So here, he's more interested in violence. A guy who torments his victims and takes joy from killing in increasingly creative ways, but will get testy when he's outmaneuvered or misses an opportunity.

(4): A popular western style Japanese dish, or yōshoku.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 5: Cutting Deals

Wednesday morning at Kuoh Academy started like any other for the President of the Student Council. Assorting documents, keeping the peace on campus, coordinating yearly school events, and filtering out pointless calls and letters from Serafall Leviathan. It was nothing she hadn't done for over a year now.

She loved her sister, but there were times where the woman was just too much to deal with.

What set this one apart, in Sona's mind, was the message she received last night. She and Tsubaki were wrapping up their daily duties and were about to adjourn for the day when Rias's familiar appeared at the window. She let the little creature inside, where it promptly dropped an envelope in her hands and flew right back out. Very concerning, since it only ever did that when there was a big problem.

Reading the letter, she understood why.

–––––

Sona,

I apologize for the abruptness, but an urgent situation has come up. A stray exorcist brutally murdered a client of mine and wounded one of my servants.

I'm in the process of healing my servant as you read this, so I'll come by your office in the morning to explain and give full details of the incident.

Keep your peerage safe in the meantime.

Rias

–––––

Taking the warning to heart, she called her servants back and informed them of the situation. Naturally, they were shocked that something like this had happened so close to home. Sona then forbade answering any contracts until her meeting with Rias in the morning.

She and Tsubaki arrived at the office much earlier than usual to prepare, while the rest of the Council went about their business as usual. By the time Rias arrived at 7:00 A.M., only Reya, Momo and Saji remained.

“Good morning, Sona, Tsubaki,” Both Rias' expression and voice seemed exhausted.

“Good morning, Rias. How is your servant?”

“She's fine now. The wound was painful, but treatable.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Now, what's going on?”

Rias gave her an abridged version of the previous night's events, starting with Issei meeting Asia and Connor, then disciplining Issei's judgment, to the trap set by the murderous exorcist, the fight with said exorcist, and the strong possibility that there was more than just the one. Throughout the story, the work being completed by the Council members slowed to a halt as they listened in out of curiosity.

Sona sighed and brought her hands in front of her face, lacing her fingers together. “It's unfortunate that it's come to this,” she grimly remarked.

“Yes, but there's something else you need to know, Sona.”

“And that is?”

“Connor Lochlainn is a magician.”

For a brief moment, one could have heard a pin drop onto a desk in that room.

“Wait, what?” Reya whipped around, almost knocking the papers on her desk onto the floor.

“That's impossible, Rias. I've checked already. Lochlainn's magic levels are normal for a human.”

“So you didn't know?”

“Didn't know what? Rias, what are you not telling me? How do you know he's a magician?”

“I know this because no normal human can fight a Fallen Angel in melee combat and survive.”

Sona's eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“Last Sunday, the same night I reincarnated Ise, Lochlainn was fighting a Fallen Angel in a one-on-one duel close to where Ise was killed. I didn't see the end of the fight, but he was certainly making his enemy work for it.”

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” Sona asked, her brow furrowing.

“You said that you didn't want me poaching your prospects, so I stayed my hand for as long as I could. Considering that members of your peerage were already familiar with him, I thought that you were working towards recruiting him, but it seems to me that you really didn't know what he is. If you didn't make your move soon, I was thinking of inviting him to my peerage, but now…”

“Rias, we had an agreement.”

“I kept my word, Sona, but that was before I saw him fight a Fallen, and before Akeno saw him heal himself with magic.”

Sona stood from her seat. “If you were there to see the fight, why didn't you try to stop it?”

“Because they weren't alone. There were three other Fallen there maintaining a barrier. They had plenty of opportunities to kill him, but they just stayed back and let him fight. It still doesn't make sense to me.”

“And you left him there? Rias, what were you thinking?!” Sona demanded. “If I recall correctly, it was your father that recommended him here! Do you realize how it would look for this town, this school or even us if an international transfer student was murdered within a month of their enrollment?”

“I didn't have time to think about that, Sona!” Rias shouted defensively. “I wanted to help him, I really did, but Ise was fading too quickly. I had to reincarnate him before he passed on completely. You know why I need this, Sona! Riser just pushed the deadline up, and my parents won't listen to me!”

Sona fully understood the stress that came with a marriage that was arranged before you were ever born. She had been set up for one as well, but had it revoked when she defeated her fiancée in a chess match years ago. Rias, on the other hand, had no such opportunities, in no real fault of her own. Riser Phenex was a very shrewd man, and knew his way around agreements and the loopholes therein. All of her previous attempts to stop the marriage were quickly shot down, and judging from her attitude now, she was out of time and desperate.

So desperate that her actions almost endangered their positions as dual Governors of Kuoh. If their families, or Satan forbid, their siblings heard about this, the fiasco could ruin them.

Rias and Sona glared at each other. The two heiresses hadn't had an argument like this in years, and everyone in the room sat still for several moments, not wanting to make themselves the focus of the Kings' anger.

“Um… Kaichō,” Reya broke the silence, “that bruise on Connor's face last week. He told me that he fell on Sunday evening. If Lady Rias is telling the truth, then-”

“He lied to keep Reya from asking any further,” Momo finished.

“Uh, I'm confused. Does that mean he knows we're Devils?” Saji spoke up for the first time, bringing the biggest question on Sona's mind to the forefront.

Sona looked back to Rias. “Does he?”

“I'm not sure. I was about to find out from Ise until Koneko sent her distress call. But, all things considered, I think it's safe to assume that he knows much more than any of us realize.”

Sona slowly returned to her seat, taking several calming breaths.

“Reya,” she looked up to address her Bishop. “Once classes end today, bring Lochlainn here.”

“Yes, Kaichō,” Reya replied, slightly hesitant.

“Tsubaki, if you would, please make some tea.”

Sona's Queen simply bowed and walked to a corner of the room where a small cupboard sat. While tea was one of the few things that Sona could make that didn't taste horrendous, the tea that Tsubaki made was infinitely more preferable to hers.

She turned back to Rias. “I suppose you will be here to speak with him as well?”

“Of course. Akeno will be here, too. One way or another, we're finding out what he knows.”

“Let's try not to have it come to violence, Rias,” Sona suggested, readjusting her glasses. “This is a school, after all.”

---

At 12:05 P.M., Connor could be found not in the classroom, nor in his primary spot for lunch, but rather up on the roof, relaxing in the shade of the access doorway.

He had found this little corner of paradise in his first week, and had been coming here for lunch more frequently after meeting Koneko. Since she knew enough of his normal routine to intercept him, he had to change it up and throw her off his trail. He hadn't seen that girl since Friday, but she had a reputation for being something of a glutton. If she found him up here, then all hope was lost for a peaceful lunch.

It didn't take long for his thoughts to drift from Koneko to Asia. He'd been so focused on securing her safety that he totally forgot about leaving something for her to do while he was gone. She was probably bored out of her mind by now. Patient as a saint she might be, but there was only so much one could handle before cabin fever started to manifest. Fortunately, she had access to the basic necessities and enough food to last for several days if she didn't leave the apartment.

He'd make it up to her tonight. He'd show her how to make some easy recipes like onigiri or tsukune or some other snack. If he got home soon enough, then maybe he could even show her around town and see if there was a place to get nice casual clothes from. (1)

'What kind of kimono would look good on her?' he wondered. 'Maybe a darker blue to contrast against her hair?'

Just as he was about to take another bite of pork cutlet , he saw something dark out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he was met face-to-snout with a very large wolf-like canine.

“Bwah! Holy shit!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and dropping the remainder of his lunch onto the ground. His right hand shot up to draw his runic sword while he took several steps closer to the roof access door.

The dog didn't seem all that concerned with his sudden flight response; it just sat down on its haunches and stared at him.

He'd never seen anything like it. This creature was enormous –bigger than a fully grown Malamute– and yet it completely snuck up on him! Deep blood-red eyes matched a glowing mark on its head, its fur was black as night, and the mane along its shoulders made its whole body seem twice its actual size. Lightly clutched in its jaw was a folded piece of paper, not even the least bit damaged by the small knives this thing called teeth.

“What kind of familiar are you?”

The dog's only response was to perk an ear and blink.

Connor slowly pointed to the paper with his left hand, keeping his sword hand ready. “Is… that for me?”

The dog stood up and approached Connor, tilting its head up and presenting the paper to him. When Connor didn't take it, the beast settled for placing the paper on the ground next to the spilled lunch, snatched the pork cutlet, then turned and trotted away.

The magus didn't manage to get a word in before the canine suddenly jumped into the shadow cast by an A/C unit and vanished. He stood there for a brief length, wondering what had just happened.

After calming down and collecting himself, he picked up the note.

–––––

Something has come up. I've got a new job for you, and this one comes with pay. Meet me at Nomura's tonight at 6:00. Destroy this note once you've read it.

–––––

Connor's curiosity turned to annoyance as he folded the paper three times over and set it alight with a Sowilo rune.

“Damn it all,” he muttered, bending down to pick up what was left of his lunch.

'So much for once a week. Next thing you know, I'm his best man for an out-of-town wedding, like I don't have anything better to do.'

“Still… that dog of his was pretty cool.”

---

The afternoon dragged on for the magus, more so than he remembered a Wednesday ever doing. His mind was on Asia for most of it, worrying that she might get bored enough to go outside. He wanted to believe that she would listen to him and stay put, but that nagging feeling of 'what if' wouldn't leave him alone.

After the last bell finally rang and the students were wrapping up the classroom cleaning process, he quickly made to leave without a word. Reya had other plans, however, since she was already at the door to impede his escape. She looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Connor, would you please come with me to the Student Council Office?”

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I can't say. Kaichō only instructed me to bring you to the office.”

“Alright.” Alarms were going off in his head. Whatever this was about, it couldn't be good.

Murmurs were abound in the classroom as Connor and Reya exited, but he paid them no heed. Whatever rumors and gossip that spawned from this would die within a day. They almost always did.

The journey to the Student Council Office was otherwise uneventful, aside from curious glances cast by classmates in their direction. Upon reaching the office door, Reya knocked three times while Connor discreetly checked the runestones in his pocket.

“Kaichō, I've brought him,” she announced.

“Come in,” he heard Sōna's voice respond.

Reya entered first, followed by Connor who cast quick glances around the office. The layout of the room itself reminded him of a police squad room in the West, what with the desks arranged the way they were and the boss' much larger desk by the inside wall overlooking them all.

Sōna was seated at said large desk, with several people standing beside her. He recognized one of them as Rias Gremory, the President of the Occult Research Club. She was considered by the school population to be the most beautiful student in the Academy, and for good reason. Flowing red hair, blue-green eyes, and a body that many women would spend their lives trying to achieve were a powerful combination.

Next to her was Issei Hyōdō, who looked nervous upon making eye contact with him.

To Sōna's left, standing slightly taller than Sōna, Tsubaki bore flowing black hair reaching her knees, center split bangs that framed her face, blue semi-rimmed glasses, and sharp heterochromatic eyes –her right eye a light brown and her left a deep purple. Like the others, she wore the standard uniform, which accentuated her buxom figure. Her serious demeanor was also a perfect mirror to her President; she was so much like Sōna in appearance and personality, in fact, that he nearly mistook the two as blood relatives when he met them on his first day at Kuo-

“Connor?” At Reya's voice, he blinked and noticed everyone staring.

“I did it again, didn't I?” Reya nodded. “Damn it. Sorry.”

“Please pay closer attention, Mr. Lochlainn,” Souna urged. “This is not the time to be distracted.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He took note of how Souna didn't first ask how his day was, which she had done the previous times they had crossed paths at school. Then again, he had been summoned to the office in the first place, so something else was afoot.

“Have a seat, please.”

Connor complied, sitting down into one of the chairs facing the desk.

“Tea?” a playful voice chimed to his left.

He looked up. Standing next to him with a tray in her hands was a young woman with long raven hair tied by a long orange ribbon into a ponytail that almost reached to the floor. The most distinguishing, and distracting, physical feature about her was that her breasts seemed far too big for her age, even with the uniform. Based on this first meeting, something about the look in those violet half-lidded eyes of hers made two separate promises, one of which he was sure he wanted no part of.

“Oh, um, no thank you.”

“You don't like tea?” she asked in a falsely hurt tone.

“It's not that I don't like it. I just prefer cold tea. It's how it's done back home,” he fished for an excuse. Running his normal check for drugs would be a dead giveaway, and he didn't want to risk getting slipped something.

Akeno, while slightly disappointed that he didn't take her bait, smiled and put a hand to her cheek. “Oh~ I'll have to remember that for your next visit.”

“You do that, Miss…”

“Call me Akeno. I'll let you~” she teased.

“Right.” Now very glad he didn't accept the tea, he made a mental note to pick his words carefully around this one. “So, pleasantries aside, what's going on? ”

“We thought it fit to formally introduce ourselves to you,” Rias answered with a smile as Akeno set the tray down and joined her side. “You see, everyone in this room, with the exception of you, is a Devil. But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Connor said nothing.

“I'll go first,” Rias continued, giving a curtsy. “My name is Rias Gremory, president of the Occult Research Club, and heiress to the house of Gremory, a Duke of the Underworld.”

Likewise, Sōna gave her own curtsy. “And I am called Sona Sitri, next in line to the house of Sitri, ranked Prince of the Underworld. While in the human world, I answer to Sōna Shitori, Student Council President of Kuoh Academy.”

Connor simply nodded.

'So she gave herself an alias that resembled her original name, but fit within the local naming sense. Cheesy, but it works.' he thought, then glanced over to Rias. 'At least Sona tried.'

“You already know Tsubaki and Reya,” Sona continued, “and the woman beside Rias is Akeno Himejima.”

“How do you do?” Akeno curtsied.

“The boy next to her is Issei Hyōdō, though I'm sure you are already familiar with him.”

“Now then, Connor, who are you? Or rather, what are you?” Rias' formerly mild tone turned demanding in the span of a heartbeat. ”And don't bother trying to lie.”

“So the cat's out of the bag?” He looked around at everyone, who all simply nodded. He sighed and shifting his posture in the chair, and with it, his demeanor also seemed to change. “Fine. Can't say I didn't try. My name is Connor Lochlainn, third-generation Irish American, foreign exchange student, and magus.”

Sona blinked. While glad that he seemed serious, she was confused by his answer. “Magus? I was led to believe you were a magician.”

“No,” he firmly denied. “Those are two completely different things.”

“How so?”

“Well, first of all, let me clarify that magicians as you all may know them and the ones I know of are another two vastly different things. For the sake of this discussion, I'll just be referring to the former, those you'll more typically see skulking around the world of magic.

“To make a comparison: magicians are like mathematicians, while magi are more like physicists. Both will inevitably use similar principles and fundamental laws regarding magic, but magicians are far more theoretical and have a broader spectrum to which they apply their craft. Magi are a bit more… grounded in their studies, more down to earth. We focus more on history, mythology and recorded phenomena. Some magi even use scientific laws in conjunction with magical theory, which is almost impossible to do unless you have a firm understanding of both, and something you won't ever see magicians attempt.”

“I see,” Sona said, “and what about these other magicians? What is so special about them?”

“Those people are freaks, plain and simple. They've taken their craft and gone past the realm of understanding and even imagination. Any kind of example I could give you right now would be something they can do in their sleep.”

“Interesting,” Sona muttered.

“I can't help but notice; for someone in the hot seat, you don't seem too worried about being here and talking about this to others,” Akeno commented.

He shrugged. “It's not that I'm unconcerned. A chat like this was going to happen eventually, but better for everyone if we all approach this like rational beings. If you don't mind me asking, how did you find out about me?”

“I saw you fighting that Fallen Angel last Sunday, and Akeno saw that you are capable of using magic when you healed yourself,” Rias said. “And speaking of the Fallen, what happened in that fight?”

“I killed him.”

Issei's jaw dropped, and the others were left trying to put together the mental image.

“You… killed a Fallen?” Reya finally spoke.

“Took him by surprise and exploited an opening,” Connor admitted. “If the fight had dragged on much longer, I wouldn't have lasted.”

“There were three other Fallen that night. Why was he the only one fighting you?” Rias asked.

“I pissed him off enough that he told the others to stay away. He was pretty quick to anger, and it looked to me like the others hated his guts anyway, so I took advantage of that.” It wasn't entirely a lie, but telling them that he knew a curse to force a duel to the death would not end well for him in this setting.

“Oh my~ Stealthy and skillful. I suppose it's no wonder that only Koneko was able to find you.”

Connor glanced to Akeno, then to Rias, arching an eyebrow as if asking for clarification.

“Koneko is… gifted when it comes to sensing magic. She never found anything peculiar about you until she was standing right in front of you.”

“And according to her, there is a 'transparency' to you, like looking into clear water. You seemed to blend in with your surroundings, even when you were in plain sight. She said she could sense that your magic felt like hers, but only when she was next to you. Similarly, when you were near other people, she sensed that your magic became like theirs. From far away, and when you were alone, you vanished. That's quite the trick, Mr. Lochlainn. Almost like a chameleon~”

“It might also explain why neither I nor my peerage detected anything either, despite having met you,” Sona concluded. “You camouflaged to match the people around you. To stay hidden for so long is no doubt impressive. Is that the result of your magic?”

“Magecraft, yes,” he briefly confirmed, not wanting to divulge much more.

It was a project that began as one thing and became another. The original intent had been to try and make his body 'imitate' the ambient Mana around him by using his own magic circuits as channels to run the Mana through and out again. Unfortunately, it required the use of his Od to keep his body from overreacting to changes in the flow of Mana, which ended up starving his body of Od and leaving him nauseous for hours.

A year ago, though, he hit a breakthrough: Take his body out of the equation.

By inscribing runes onto his clothes that would simultaneously absorb and release Mana in equal quantities, he 'took in' the world around him, effectively becoming a part of the outer world without forcing his inner world through the constant stress of Od starvation. This had the added bonus of practically smothering, to a large degree, any magical energy signature that his own Od might exude. Only someone within his direct vicinity would be able to sense him, and even then, they would have to know what to look for.

His experiment on Breathing and Walking instead bore fruit as a form of concealing his own presence. To know that it took a dedicated sensor for even Devils to 'find' him was gratifying.

“I'm curious, Mr. Lochlainn. How much do you know about Devils?” Rias asked.

The change in her tone didn't go unnoticed. “Just some secondhand knowledge. I know that you make contracts with people, that you can turn others into Devils, that you have four leaders, and that there's a big stalemate between you, the Angels, and the Fallen.”

“That's much more than most people would know,” Sona pointed out.

“I knew a guy in the States a few years back that studied the Ars Goetia like it was gospel, called himself a demonologist. He even claimed to have actually met a Devil. I distinctly remember him saying 'a' Devil, not 'the.' Can't recall the name he had for them, but it wasn't my business. I didn't want to get involved with any of that if I didn't have to.”

“Has that changed recently?” Rias asked.

“I learned a bit more here and there, but I still don't know enough about Devils and how they work to make a logical decision.” He paused to adjust himself in his seat. “Hypothetically, let's say that I agreed to becoming a Devil. What do I get out of it as a fresh recruit, or however you call them?”

“You gain a lot of things,” the redhead continued, suddenly a little more chipper than before. “For instance, your body becomes faster and stronger, you gain the ability to fly, and you can speak to and understand anybody in the world thanks to the 'Language' spell that all Devils are capable of using passively.”

'So it was a Devil perk,' he thought back to Issei and Asia's first conversation. 'By itself, the Language thing would be fantastic to have. If only it wasn't part of a package deal.'

“Any sort of magic that you already use becomes immensely more easy because Devils rely on their imagination to power their magic. I don't think it would be any different with magecraft, but I'm not sure. You also gain an increased life span; as a Devil, you can live well up to ten thousand years.”

'Sounds exaggerated. Have any Devils actually lived that long to prove it?'

“So what happens when you turn?” he asked.

Just as Rias was about to reply, Sona stopped her.

“Allow me to answer that. To become a Devil means that you become a servant to a high-class Devil, or the King, and join the peerage belonging to them. This King uses any of fifteen Evil Pieces, which are modeled after the pieces used in chess, to reincarnate a candidate into a Devil, and bind the power of an Evil Piece to the soul of that candidate.” As Sona explained this, she opened an ornate box and deposited one such Piece onto the desk. If not for the deep red lines along its grooves and edges, it would seem like any white Knight piece one would find in a standard chess set. “Many of the benefits that Rias already described become effective immediately, though some will take longer than others to grow accustomed to.”

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the piece. Sona nodded, letting him pick it up and turn it over in his hand to examine it. After a short while of this, he looked back to Sona. “Is it just for decoration, or do they all function differently?”

“Yes, each Piece grants a specific bonus in addition to the changes that come with reincarnation. And depending upon the person or the power that they wield, it may take more than one piece to reincarnate them.”

“I see. Thank you,” he nodded, setting the piece back, while absently thinking of how much fun it would be to open up a whole set and study the inner workings. “How are reincarnated Devils treated? I imagine that it's not exactly a… covetous lot in life.”

“Well, yes, there are high-class Devils that treat their servants as just that; servants. I can't speak on behalf of other houses, but both the Gremory and Sitri houses have long histories of treating their servants as friends and even family members. It is a custom that both Rias and I plan to continue.” Rias nodded in reinforcement with a confident smile.

“And regardless of who reincarnates you, you're granted amnesty and get full protection of that King,” the redhead added. “At that point, an attack on you is an attack on them. You essentially get a brand new life.”

“How do I get out from that? Being a peerage member, I mean.”

“Technically, you don't,” Sona denied. “You're a part of the King's peerage forever, even if you become a high-class Devil and a King of your own.

“The only other way is to become a Stray Devil, which is not a sensible choice at all. Strays are reincarnated Devils that have gone rogue and fled from their masters. Without the King to regulate the power of the Evil Piece bound to their soul, Strays usually go insane and become monsters. They're hunted down and either captured or killed to prevent any further damage they might do.”

'That's either a major design flaw or an intentional feature to discourage rebellion.'

“Good to know. And how does someone make becoming high-class happen?”

“There are a number of ways to qualify. Among them are contract work, performance in Rating Games and, in times of war or crises, military accomplishments. Once you reach a certain level of power or perform admirably, you can qualify for a promotion. Then you have to pass a series of tests, both written and practical, to ensure that you are truly ready to rise in the rankings.

“Once you're promoted to a high-class Devil, you are granted an Evil Piece set with which you can use to reincarnate others and build your own peerage.”

“And the best part about that is that if you have a bunch of girls in your peerage, you can make your own harem, too!” Issei cut in, earning a pointed look from Rias.

“Issei.”

“Um… I… Sorry, Buchō. I'm sorry, Kaichō.”

“Sorry about that, Mr. Lochlainn,” Rias apologized, a little flustered.

“Don't worry, it's fine,” he said, attempting to subdue the awkward atmosphere. “No offense to Issei, but I'd be more surprised if that were true and he didn't say anything about it.” Rias' shoulders relaxed and Akeno lightly giggled.

“It is possible, but it's up to the Devil in question to go through with that.”

“I see.”

“Any other questions or concerns?”

“No, I think that'll do.”

“Alright,” Rias said expectantly. “So, Connor, I would like to extend a formal invitation into my peerage. Do you accept?”

“I also offer a place in my own peerage, Mr. Lochlainn,” Sona declared, not to be outdone.

Connor leaned back in the chair and looked between the two. For a while, the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the office wall.

Finally, he spoke. “Will you respect my decision?”

Rias blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What? Oh, yes.”

“Yes, of course,” Sona answered, already suspecting the outcome.

“My answer is 'no thank you,' to both of your offers.”

All the girls in the room were equally disappointed, but Reya didn't conceal it as well. While Rias was slightly shocked and frustrated by this, Issei was looking at Connor as if he had just sprouted a second head.

“I will not join either of your peerages. From my perspective, what you offer for becoming a Devil doesn't appeal to me. Long life and wealth? Sure, both are nice to have, but when they're practically guaranteed, it kills any sense of accomplishment. It's like, 'Hey, I'm getting all this stuff anyway, so why bother working for any of it?' I know that's an exaggeration, but you get my point.

And servants? A harem? I do not want nor need that kind of attention. The latter in particular might sound amazing on paper, but once when you get past the hot-blooded fantasy and really think about it, it doesn't work. There's no way not to play favorites, so your spouses end up at each other's throats because they want you all to themselves. By the end of the day, it's not worth the trouble. So, my apologies, but I simply have no interest.”

'And even before getting to all that, I'm basically considered a slave. I like my freedom, thank you.'

He had made his choice before the subject even came up. Hearing about Devils directly from the source merely satisfied what curiosity he had of them, but he had no intention of pawning off his soul to anyone. With how they had explained reincarnation, 'Faustian Bargain' was a perfect summary, considering the old tale behind the term.

“If that is your answer, then I shall keep my word and respect it,” Sona responded. “But Mr. Lochlainn, it goes without saying that this conference never left this room.”

“Obviously. I would have nothing to gain from divulging your secrets to the public, anyway. If anything, I'm the one that would get alienated for spreading 'lies' about you. I won't say anything about or threaten what you're doing here. I simply ask that you please leave me to my own affairs.”

For a brief moment, his mind wandered to darker thoughts. After what the Mage's Association had done, he didn't consider the steps he'd taken to evade their notice as an act of paranoia. His uncle’s 'accident' was no turn of misfortune, but an assassination; a quiet message sent to remind Donovan Lochlainn of what happened to magi who didn’t toe the line.

“And what about the nun in your care?” Rias asked rather harshly, drawing his focus.

“Asia? What about her?”

“She is a member of the Church. That makes her an enemy to us.”

“She's a former member of the Church, Miss Gremory. They kicked her out over doing the job they demanded of her on someone they didn't approve of. Moreover, that poor girl couldn't bring herself to kill a bug if it bit her, much less hurt any of you. You have absolutely nothing to fear from her. You can ask Issei here, he'll tell you the same.”

“I know. He and I have already discussed this,” Rias remarked. For his part, Issei seemed especially sheepish. “Even so, I find that hard to believe.”

“I can tell that you won't be dissuaded from thinking that. You can believe what you want about Asia, but it doesn't make what I've said about her any less true.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” the redheaded Devil bristled.

Ever so slightly, a crease began to form in the magus' brow.

A tense air formed as both parties stared the other down. Issei and Reya glanced nervously between the two while Sona's gaze fixed on Rias. Connor lightly squeezed the stones in his left hand, having kept them hidden for the duration of the meeting.

“Now, now, let's not get hostile,” Akeno intervened. “We were doing so well earlier.”

“Yeah…” Connor looked to Sona, figuring it would best to leave before the first shots were fired. “I'm sorry, but I've got to get back before too long. May I be excused, Kaichō?”

“Yes, you may. Thank you for your time.”

Connor stood up and gave a polite bow to Sona then Rias before turning to the door.

“By the way, Mr. Lochlainn,” Sona stopped him, “I understand that you still haven't joined a club.”

“Oh. Yeah, I've been looking. Just can't make up my mind.”

“I would rather not have to force you to join one, but if you would be so kind as to make a decision by the end of the week, I would appreciate it.”

“Is that an order from Sōna Shitori, the Student Council President, or a demand from Sona Sitri, the next in line to the Sitri household?”

“Neither. It's a request.”

He smiled at that.

“That's a good answer,” he said with a nod. “Yeah, I'll let you know by the end of the week.”

Upon closing the door behind him as he left the office, he sighed.

Who was he kidding? His plan wasn't going to work, and it was a bad idea from the start. Getting a nun into a Devil-dominated school would be like spitting into the wind and hoping you didn't hit yourself. If Rias' attitude was any indication, Asia would either be persecuted for her past or hounded for her Sacred Gear and eventually conned into becoming a Devil. Even if she would gain 'protection,' he doubted that was a path that Asia wanted to go down.

He had thought about bringing up the circumstances behind Asia's exile to Rias and Sona, but decided against it when he figured that they would have no reason to believe him, and he had no way to prove his claim other than Asia herself. Even if he mentioned their relations to the Satans as a means to coerce them, blackmailing someone only worked if you had the means to follow through with a threat. Plus, it would only complicate further interactions with them.

What they did was no business of his, as long as they didn't make the effort to get him or Asia involved.

But with Asia in his care, that wouldn't be the case for long. He still had the issue of this stalker Devil to deal with. Best case scenario was that he could catch the guy in the act, but he wasn't terribly optimistic of that happening. The cretin would be ready to bolt if things wouldn't go his way.

He could hear someone arguing from beyond the door, and guessed it to be involving Rias. He didn't recall ever speaking to her before, so what was it that had her so bothered? Her mood had gone from suspicious to hopeful to angry, all in one conversation. She would be trouble, even if all the other Devils heeded his request.

Checking his phone, he saw that he still had two hours before his next meeting. He would have to make an early dinner for Asia, then speed walk to the meeting and back in order to make sure Asia was all set for the night. His apology shopping trip was going to have to wait.

---

Still in the office, all was quiet for the first few seconds. Most of the occupants looked between each other while Rias glared down at the desk in front of her, repeatedly clenching her fists. Sona had a feeling of what was coming.

“We can't trust him.”

“Rias–” Sona started, only to be cut off.

“No, Sona! He led us on! He made it seem like he was interested, but he just threw it all back in our faces! Just because he's cozy with you doesn't mean that I-”

“Rias, stop it!” Akeno exclaimed, startling Issei.

Rias whipped around, turning her glare at Akeno.

“You're upset about Riser, and it's showing. Now how do you expect Connor to remain civil with us if you're about to tear his arms off?”

“Why are you taking his side? You're my Queen!”

“And you're my best friend. I will always be on your side, Rias, but I don't want you to end up doing something that I know you would regret.” Akeno grasped her King's shoulders, forcing her to look her in the eye. “Stop. And breathe. You know I hate seeing you like this, and I know this isn't what you want Ise to see.”

That seemed to snap Rias out of her vitriol. She looked around to see Sona and her servants trying to seem as neutral as possible. Issei looked almost fearful at her display, which really drove the metaphorical knife into her gut.

“I'm sorry, Ise. I… I'm sorry you had to see that. Akeno, Ise, come on.”

Rias silently showed herself out, head hanging low. Akeno bowed apologetically to Sona and Tsubaki, then followed after her King, with Issei trailing close behind her.

“I wish there was something we could do to help,” Reya lamented.

“This is Rias' dilemma, Reya. We cannot interfere, no matter how much we would like to.” Sona didn't like the situation either, but lending aid on Rias' behalf would only hurt the both of their Houses politically in the future. The Gremory heiress had to work this problem out on her own.

“Now that we know who he really is, do you still trust him, Reya?” Tsubaki asked.

“Yes, Fukukaichō. I don't think he means us any harm,” the Bishop answered with conviction.

“Very well. Kaichō?”

“Learning what we have, I do not trust him completely, but I trust Reya's judge of character,” Sona replied. “He's clearly leaving out information, although that does not surprise me. We'll continue monitoring him. If he keeps his word, then there should be no cause for alarm.”

“Yes, Kaichō.”

A new sense of curiosity welled up inside Sona as she picked up the Knight piece she has shown him. While it was certainly disappointing that he declined her offer, perhaps it could be more interesting this way. She had never even heard of a magus before today, and now her inner scholar wanted to know more. What was magecraft? What kind did he use? What was he thinking while he was examining the piece? And for what reason was he protecting a nun?

She smiled lightly behind her laced hands. Momo wasn't the only one among the Student Council that enjoyed solving puzzles.

---

Much like on Sunday, Connor met Tobio at the door to Nomura's almost on the mark of 6:00 P.M. They exchanged false greetings and passed by 'Oyaji' on their way in. Unlike the previous meeting, however, instead of sitting at the bar, the two placed themselves at a table by the far wall, away from any prying ears.

“Tell your dog that he needs to work on his method of getting attention. He's worse than a husky.”

Tobio chuckled. “He got in your face, didn't he?”

“And stole part of my lunch. From that look, I take it he does it often?”

“Yeah, Jin likes to scare people. He does it all the time back at the Grigori HQ.”

“Right,” the magus muttered, shaking his head. “So what's happening now?”

“Well, Raynare's Stray exorcists are getting restless,” Tobio explained. “One of them just killed a man in his own home last night, and they've apparently been working on their own while they waited for the Fallen to come back. I followed some of them around town this morning, and from what I've gathered, they've brought in a few more people and are now actively hunting for Asia.”

“Fantastic,” Connor groaned.

“I also heard mention of a 'filthy bloodsucker,' but I didn't know what to make of that. So here's the problem. Azazel doesn't want them causing any more trouble around here and get linked back to the Grigori, but I'm under strict orders to not directly intervene and potentially risk what Raynare did with her stunt. That's what this job is for: I want you to help me find out what they're up to.”

Connor could feel the agitation rising, but he did his best not to show it.

“That's a flimsy excuse. You've got enough freedom to move that you can even be here while the rest of your guys are in lockdown. And aren't I still on probation?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then no thanks. I've already got enough on my plate thanks to you people. You can handle it by yourself. And if these Strays really are looking for her right now, then I need to go make some extra preparations. But I appreciate the warning.” He stood up and turned, only to find the shadowy dog from before sitting down in his path and staring up at him, silently daring him to move.

Again, the damned thing had snuck up on him! In a back corner of the dining area as they were, nobody else seemed to notice the large dog suddenly appear. One of Tobio's countermeasures, he assumed.

“Just hear me out on all the details before you make a snap decision,” Tobio requested.

“Why not just send him?” Connor pointed to the dog. “I'm sure he could root them out in no time.”

“Canis Lykaon is an Independent Avatar Sacred Gear. While they can be commanded from afar, they have their own consciousness and instinct, and can act of their own free will. Because of that, Jin is treated as a Grigori agent just as much as I am, and Azazel's orders apply to him, too.”

“Wait… Jin?” The dog tilted its head. “He's your Sacred Gear? I thought he was your familiar.”

“Surprise,” Tobio said flippantly. “Anyway, can we please get back to the matter at hand?”

With a glance to Jin, who didn't move from his spot, Connor took his seat again and took a calming breath.

“So you want me to do some digging? That's it?”

“Yes, anything you can find about what they're planning. With these new arrivals, what we learned from Raynare's interrogation isn't valid anymore, at least as far as they're concerned.”

“No chance of extracting a Sacred Gear?”

“I don't think so. The ritual doesn't work without a Fallen Angel present to act as an anchor, and every Fallen has been called back to HQ until the internal investigation is complete. So unless somebody abandoned ship that we don't know about, you should only be dealing with Stray exorcists.”

'That's comforting,' Connor thought. Fighting against one Fallen was enough for him.

“And regarding the pay I mentioned,” Tobio trailed off, reaching into his coat.

From the inner pocket, the Grigori agent took a chunk of crystal the size of a baseball and set it on the table. Curiously, Connor picked up the chunk to examine it and –with how heavy it sat in his hand– quickly identified it.

Sorcery ore, specifically utilized by magi as a catalyst for gem magecraft. Not exactly hard to come by for any magus, but difficult to find free of impurities. He remembered his father once say that a pure brick of the stuff was more valuable than its weight in gold to the right people. This one was… good, but not perfect either. It looked pretty well preserved, if not for a couple of chips off its surface, likely from being dropped. A pure sample would be hard to scratch or break without the use of magical energy to either alter its physical state or reinforce whatever was cutting and shaping it.

“I have so many questions as to how you got this.”

“I couldn't begin to tell you,” Tobio replied earnestly. “That's been sitting in the vault for centuries, according to Shemhazai, and Azazel had forgotten that it was even there. He always had his mind on other things, anyway.”

“How much of this is there?”

“Seven kilograms in total, the rest is still in the original container.” He pointed to the piece in Connor's hand. “You take on this job, and that's your upfront payment. If you come across any exorcists while you're snooping around, you can deal with them however you see fit.”

Connor looked down at the ore. He had a number of projects on the back burner that could use sorcery ore in order to speed things up, and seven kilograms would go a long way for most of them. If the rest of it was like this piece, then it would be ready to use with only a little bit of preparatory work. In addition, he could see several ways in which the ore could be used to expand the usefulness of the Bounded Field around the apaato. He would need to anyway, just in case the exorcists passed by in their search for Asia.

Taking the job would mean one more problem to take care of, but his gut was telling him to not pass this up. He wouldn't exactly be going in blind, but with no other means of support, he would need all the resources he could acquire.

“So, are you in?”

Connor looked back up at Tobio, his mind made up.

“Yeah. I'm in. On one condition.”

---

At the same time, a young man dressed in a formal suit stiffly strode the path along the park. His normally handsome features were currently marred by a scowl. He was not in the best of moods, especially after what he just had to endure.

Initially, he'd been delayed by humans and their stupid laws on transportation in this backwater country, but then, he was called back to the Underworld on meetings regarding 'security of the house heirs' for almost two days! That fool Zephyrdor was somehow too incompetent to even do his job as a manchurian candidate properly. In no small part due to that, he had to be the one to cover for the both of them regarding the heir of Glasya-Labolas' death, and was now behind schedule in retrieving his beloved!

It was as if the whole world suddenly decided that he couldn't have the girl of his dreams now that she was just within reach! And after all the hassle he went through to set her free!

With a frustrated sigh, he checked his location against the directions he had received from some grubby street vendor. It was such a chore to have to play nice with these pathetic humans.

“Well, at least she couldn't have gone far,” he muttered. Given how sheltered she was and how little she must know of Japan, he imagined that she wouldn't last long by herself. With any luck, the Fallens' plan for her had been just as waylaid as he had been, and he could still rescue her from their clutches.

Soon, he would find her.

He couldn't wait to break her.

---

…

(1): Japanese chicken meatballs

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 6: Decisions

Tobio sat on a couch inside a high-end apartment in Kuoh, waiting for the owner to come back with refreshments. Jin likewise took a spot on the couch beside him, head resting on his front legs, waiting for his partner to finish with his business. On first impressions, one would think that the dimly lit apartment belonged to an art collector, considering the expensive mosaic painting on the wall and numerous little sculptures decorating every available surface across the living room. The relaxing atmosphere helped him think.

After agreeing to the new terms less than an hour ago, Connor had left Nomura's almost immediately without another word, not even hesitating around Jin like he did earlier. Tobio didn't take offense, he'd worked with people like that in the Grigori. What they lacked in tact was usually made up for with efficiency. While Connor wasn't as unbearable as they had been, the whole 'get what you need and go' behavior was a bit irritating.

He was told not to expect a social butterfly when he was first briefed on this mission, but still…

From the kitchen, a man in a dull grey robe emerged, carrying a tray with an ice bucket, drinking glasses and a bottle of Scotch in his hands. He was a tall man with an average to above average build, black hair with golden bangs, and a small black goatee that dotted his chin. He walked without a care in the world to the coffee table and set the tray down, then lazily flopped into another sofa directly beneath the painting.

"Been a while since I've had a good drink with someone. So, how'd it go?" the man inquired as he transferred ice cubes from the bucket to the glasses.

"He had one little condition, but he took the job. He'll do some looking, then get back to me on Sunday."

"Atta boy, Tobio!" his host said with a grin. "Looks like you've got your very first informant. Good for you, putting down some roots."

"Thank you very much," Tobio deadpanned, not sure if the man meant that as a double entendre. "I have to admit, I wasn't sure if what I offered would be enough. He keeps trying to put on a tough act, but I can tell that the stress is getting to him."

"Yeah, that's par the course for magi. They're good about keeping their problems to themselves. They'll only tell you just enough to make you shut up quicker." He popped the top of the Scotch and poured one of the glasses full.

"If you don't mind me asking, Azazel, why the sudden interest in Lochlainn? It can't simply be because he's a magus." If there was ever a time to get answers for the Governor General's bizarre orders, it would be when the man was drinking for the fun of it.

Azazel didn't reply right away, glancing at the bottle in his hand. "Well, there's a long story to that. You sure you want to hear it?"

"If you're not-"

"Alright, you talked me into it." Azazel cut him off, pouring up the second glass full of Scotch, and handing it to the younger man. "Have a drink and let this old Angel tell you a winded tale from his misspent youth."

Tobio watched with a neutral expression as his quasi-father figure tipped his head back and took several gulps. His definition of 'drinking buddy' usually meant 'somebody that can match me,' which Tobio had no way of achieving for the simple reason that he was human. It wasn't that he couldn't stomach alcohol, he just couldn't do it at Azazel's level the way the man wanted. Nonetheless, Tobio would indulge him every now and then.

He took a sip of his own, then stared at his drink. This one tasted like honey with all the heat of fire going down. Interesting. Too bad 'Oyaji' had a stubborn disdain for foreign drinks. "If it ain't sake, I don't want it!" he'd say.

"Magi, magi…" Azazel dully began, leaning back into the couch once his throat was clear, "a subject of intrigue since the dawn of civilization. As you know, they've always been a very secretive bunch, even more so than many others that deal with the supernatural. Most other magicians will label them as a cult that's too stuck in the past for their own good. If that were true, they wouldn't have lasted as long as they did. In all my years, I can count on two hands the number of times I've met a bonafide magus. Not that most of them ever verbally confirmed it. Had to figure that out myself."

"When was the last time?" Tobio asked.

"It was around the year… 1536," Azazel answered, enjoying the look of surprise from Tobio. "Yeah. The Italian Renaissance was all the rage back then, making waves across post-Plague Europe, and pretty much everyone else went and had one of their own. Germany, Poland, France and England all joined in, trying to one-up each other on who had the best brains in music, literature, science and all that. Folks like William Shakespeare and Martin Luther popped up around those times.

"I was wandering around the German-speaking states at the time, playing myself off as a socialite, learning about this and that, and one man among all the intellectuals there stood out to me. A Swiss man by the name of Theophrastus von Hohenheim, but you might know him by the moniker 'Paracelsus.'"

Tobio blinked and nodded, remembering the name from his studies at Nephilim.

Paracelsus was one of those rare people that were centuries ahead of their time. Much of what modern medicine practiced had stemmed from what Paracelsus discovered, proved and disproved through his studies in chemistry and biology in the early 1500s. And although he died before the age of fifty, he had immortalized himself in history as a pioneer in the field of medical knowledge and the 'Father of Toxicology.'

And evidently, acquaintance to Azazel.

"What most people don't know about the man was that he was also a magus," a smiling Azazel explained, "and a brilliant alchemist. When I met him, he had just published 'Der grossen Wundartzney,' which made him the talk of all Germany. We had some really insightful conversations over the next two years. He taught me things about alchemy that I had no clue about. I even went and had some guys in our Science Division test out a few of his theories themselves. By the end of it, Paracelsus had his own fan club in the Grigori." he finished, chuckling at the funny memory of some of his best scientists not acting their age. (1)

"What was he like?"

The twinkle in Azazel's violet eyes faded, and the smile on his lips flattened. "He was a good man, and shockingly humble for a magus. Passionate about his work, like any scientist worth their salt would be, but I got the feeling that he was… lonely. There was nobody around him who thought on the same level that he did, not even me, and I think that loneliness contributed to his radical view of magecraft.

"He wanted it brought to the general public, to make it known to the world. You can imagine how well-received that was by his peers. He had this bizarre faith in the good will of mankind and firmly believed that the use of magecraft would be to mankind's benefit. Unfortunately, his views were what got him killed. He died when he did because he was assassinated by traditionalist magi in order to keep their status quo of utmost secrecy."

Azazel paused to take another sip of his Scotch, looking distantly over to the sofa at his right, as if seeing the spirit of an old friend sitting right there with them. It was a rare thing for the Governor General to look so morose.

"When I got word that he had died, I went to his mansion to try and find what I could that belonged to him." He frowned. "But his killers had already covered up the crime and scuttled every single bit of his work: all his experimental notes, the mountains of catalysts he had stockpiled, and even the next book he was planning to publish. The only thing left to his name was his corpse. Such a damn waste, to be cut down in his prime like that."

"Why didn't you offer him protection?" Tobio carefully asked.

Azazel turned to him and smiled ruefully.

"I did, but he refused it. Said that it would be hypocritical of him as a magus to hide behind walls while professing the existence of magecraft to the world. He knew the risks of what he was doing, but he kept moving forward without a hint of regret. He was just that selfless; he loved humanity so much that he was willing to cast away his own life for it.

"You asked me why the sudden interest? Because I want to see if anything has changed in the last five hundred years. Have magi as a whole changed at all? Are they still as reclusive and self-centered as I remember them from thousands of years ago, or are there others like him, who will go out of their way to help their fellow man? It's stupid, I know. Penemue's already given me that stink-eye of hers, and I might just be talking out of my ass here, but… I just want to see." He trailed off, looking back to the empty chair.

Tobio sat silently, watching the emotions play across Azazel's face. He had been operating under the assumption that Azazel was simply satisfying a curiosity by having him monitor a potential target, just the same as Raynare had been assigned with Issei Hyōdō. Now, though, he could see that this was a little more personal for the eccentric leader of the Fallen Angels. This wasn't about the Grigori, or even any one person's value to it. It was about a man reminded of the guilt he felt over not saving a friend when he had the chance to do so.

"Well," the agent started, "I don't think Paracelsus has anything to do with it, but it seems to me that Lochlainn isn't like the magi of the old days. He made the choice to help Asia, and I think he's committed to it."

Azazel slowly nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said, "what was the kid's condition for taking the job?"

Tobio just smiled.

---

By the time Connor reached the church and stood by at the grove of trees surrounding it, the sun was completely gone from view, and in its place was the moon, casting an eerie light over the quiet little town. The house of worship looked the same as it did before: ruined, forgotten by the people, sentenced to spend its days rotting away.

He had actually only spent less than fifteen minutes preparing for this task. The rest of the time was simply waiting for the sun to set, and while it was helpful to navigate the streets, he needed more than just moonlight to perform his recon. Lifting his finger to the outside corners of his eyes, he invoked the runes he had drawn there earlier in the evening.

As it turned out, Kenaz, the rune representing knowledge and intellect, was a remarkable substitute for a contact lens.

His grandfather had once used Kenaz to bypass a cataract in his right eye, and it worked perfectly until the time came for his surgery to remove it. When the old man shared this with the family, he found that it could enhance the vision of functioning eyes.

For Connor, it would widen the spectrum of light that his eyes could interpret and amplify it, making him as capable of seeing in the dark as well as he could see normally on a sunny day. Unfortunately, like anyone using night vision, it also made him very susceptible to bright flashes. Just a passing glance of a flashlight would be enough to leave him seeing spots.

He waited for a few moments to adjust, then zigzagged his way through the treeline until he reached opposite side of the church, checking for entrances and potential escape routes in the building. From what he could see, there were only two: the main doors facing the west, and an emergency exit to the south. He had no intention of going inside right then, but the knowledge of where everything was would be good for if he did again in the near future.

Carefully watching his every step, he crept closer to the church, but stopped several yards short of the south wall when he heard voices coming from inside. They were difficult to make out at first, but it didn't sound like he'd been spotted. He let out a baited breath, then continued his approach until he reached the wall, then moved to the window for a better listen.

"I'm just saying. We've been here for more than a week, without so much as a text. How do we know they're even coming back at all?" Connor heard a rather young male voice speak.

"We don't, but you know as well as I do that we've got nowhere else to go," a second male voice replied, this one much deeper and scratchier than that of his fellow guard.

Connor chanced a peek through the window. He saw one man standing in front of another that was seated on a pew. Engrossed in their conversation as they were, neither was facing his direction. Judging by his posture and tone of voice, the first man was incredibly anxious. His cohort, on the other hand, was completely relaxed, leaning back against the pew and giving an annoyed stare. Both men were dressed in light-colored shirts and pants with darker long coats.

"I don't get it. Why not just call us and tell us the deal's off so we can get out of here?"

"Because you can't talk the boss out of an idea any more than I can. What're you so worried about, anyway? I told you already. This is the safest place we could possibly be from the Devils. They're not going to come barging in here."

"For how long, though? Freed already screwed things up yesterday. Who's to say he won't do it again and lead them right to us?"

"Freed is not stupid. He's a crazy son of a bitch, but he's not stupid. More than likely, he'll just bide his time and wait for one of us to screw up so he can get away with killing them himself."

"He's not even a son of a bitch, is he?"

"No, you're right, that would be an insult to bitches."

Connor watched the second man take out a cigarette carton and a Zippo from a pocket on his coat. Taking one cancer-stick from the carton with his mouth, he flicked his lighter open with practiced ease, letting the distinctive 'clang' echo in the chapel. He lit the end and took a long drag, then tilted his head upwards to blow smoke rings into the air.

The younger man snorted, "Heh. Thinks he's hot shit just because he's a clone of Siegfried. But I don't remember Siegfried ever being a goddamn lunatic."

"Yeah, well, the point still stands. We're not going anywhere, so just drop it."

'Clone of Siegfried? So this guy Freed is a Designer Baby? When did the Church get into that? And where would they've gotten the material?'

The magus almost jumped when he felt a rumble. The exorcists' conversation had stopped and both were now looking toward the alter. He followed their gaze to the empty back wall and, to his surprise, it was moving. Or at least, a false section of it was. It had inched forward, then slid over to the left to reveal a hidden passageway. From that passageway emerged another man dressed in the same uniform as the guards. He, however, wasted no time in trotting past the other two.

"Gotta take a leak," he hurriedly stated, his voice bearing a more nasal timbre.

Connor pressed himself against the wall as he watched the man pass the front door, just in case he turned the corner and looked his way. Nothing happened for another three minutes until he heard footsteps coming back into the church and voices from inside again.

"Any progress?" the younger exorcist asked.

"No, still nothing," was the answer. Connor looked back inside to see the third man having joined the other two.

The smoker sighed. "This'd be so much easier if she was human. All the normal formulas don't work on those bloodsuckers."

'She? Bloodsucker? The hell's he talking about? Have they got an actual vampire down there?'

"Can't be helped. The boss's positive the payoff will be worth it, so we just keep trying." The third man didn't sound very convinced of what he had just said, as if he were reading from a script.

Without another word, he returned to the false wall and slid it back into place behind him, jimmying it a bit to make sure it fit snugly.

"Yeah? Too bad he's just as crazy as Freed," the younger exorcist muttered with disdain.

Connor leaned away from the window, looking down at the ground to process what he'd heard.

The term 'bloodsucker' was one of many derogatory names that the Church and its emissaries used to describe any creature that fed on human blood or flesh. This one more specifically referred to vampires and their thralls. It didn't make sense for the subject to even come up at his meeting with Tobio, given the Church's animosity toward them, so he had chalked it up to Tobio overhearing some empty chatter.

Not so empty now.

Curse his curiosity. Now he really wanted to find out what was going on, but now wasn't the time. He still had to learn more.

Hearing nothing more between the exorcists, Connor decided to make his move. He crept to the nearest corner of the building, and inscribed the sequence he used to identify outer borders of a Bounded Field.

'Othala, Fehu, Inguz.'

He repeated the sequence for the other corners, being careful to avoid the doorways and any windows. All four formed a box that encapsulated the entire church. Once that was done, he backtracked to the emergency exit and inscribed the final sequence at ground level.

'Uruz, Raidho, Mannaz, Ansuz. Nauthiz.'

With this, the impromptu Bounded Field was complete. Much like the one set around the apaato, anyone coming through the boundaries would be detected and an immediate signal would be sent directly to him. This setup, however, differed in that the 'ping' would only be sent to him once two or more entities passed the Field's edges within three seconds of each other. If a large group passed through, the signal would go off repeatedly.

He didn't want to know every single time a thug went outside to relieve their bladders, but rather he wanted to find out what their rotation schedule was. A group like this couldn't survive on limited supplies; they needed food, water, toiletries and other somesuch to keep an outpost going for extended periods of time.

To make doubly sure, he scrawled another string of runes further away from the 'ping' transmitter to act as an emergency transmitter. If the Field was ever disrupted, this one would let off a continuous signal, much like an error light on a car dashboard.

'Hagalaz, Jera, Ansuz.'

Any information was good information. About thirty-six hours from now, he would have a solid idea of when they switched out. From there, he could determine the right time by which he could try and find out what they were doing here. In the meantime, he would have to keep Asia out of sight from their patrols.

Now satisfied with having done what he came to do, Connor quietly returned to the tree line and made his way home. There was no point in sticking around and risk someone seeing him. He still had a lot of things to consider, and more preparations to make.

Had he stayed for a few seconds longer, he would've seen another figure coming up the path to the church's entrance.

---

'What is going on?' he wondered to himself.

He stood a fair distance away from the derelict church, a torrent of emotions flowing through his mind. The most prevalent among them was a boiling anger.

The plan was supposed to be simple: Use the Church's hatred of Devils to get their newest Holy Maiden excommunicated and away from the confines of the Vatican, swoop in, save the girl, and bring her into his peerage after some 'bonding time.' He'd done it so many times before, and it always worked. He had a nearly full peerage of former maidens as a result, which he took great satisfaction in.

But something was wrong. Asia's presence wasn't here. He could sense a cluster of humans inside, but she wasn't among them. And for that matter, neither were the Fallen.

This didn't make sense. He'd seen her presence at the Vatican, he'd felt it, he'd committed it to memory, and yet it wasn't there. This was the only place she could have gone, but she wasn't there. His prize wasn't there!

Where was she?!

'Why is everything getting in my way?! WHY NOW?!'

Swiping his hand out to his side, he called forth a magic circle. Within seconds, a young woman with long platinum blonde hair emerged, clad in a blue and white dress that left a good portion of her chest open. A blue shoulder cape with gold trim clasped together in front of her neck with a green broach, while similarly colored bands decorated her arms and wrists. Her amber eyes displayed little in the way of emotion.

"You summoned me, Lord Diodora?" the woman asked subserviently.

"Asia is not where she's supposed to be. Gather the others and scour every square centimeter of this human cesspool for her. Leave no stone unturned! I want her found, now!" His face twisted in rage with every sentence until he was barely recognizable by the end.

"As you wish, Lord Diodora." If she was at all unnerved by her master's anger, she did not let it show. Just as silently as she had arrived, his Queen disappeared to perform her task as commanded of her.

The heir to House Astaroth took one last glance at the church before storming away. He needed to vent, and using one of his pieces as a plaything wasn't going to cut it. Someone had to be made to pay.

"I will find her! I will not be denied!"

---

At lunchtime the following day, Connor had made it to his favored spot by the Tennis courts, free and clear of any pursuers. He wasn't eating his lunch, though. His mind was on too many other matters.

The sensor on the church's Bounded Field had gone off as intended right around 7:00, just a few minutes before sunrise. He figured that the next change of guard would happen sometime close to sunset, but he would have to wait for another two pings to confirm his theory. If nothing overt happened between then and Sunday, he could turn the information over to Tobio and collect the rest of his reward.

Or, he could sit on the information and see for himself what it was the exorcists were doing, and then turn it over to Tobio. It was a stupid idea, but a part of him still really wanted to do it.

Then there was what happened earlier in the morning.

–––––

Connor and Asia were just finishing breakfast. He had finished washing the dishes and was about to head out for the day when he caught sight of Asia, still sitting at the table and looking down.

"Everything okay?"

"Y-yes, I… I'm fine," she replied shyly.

He knew that tone by now. She was thinking something self-deprecating again, and falling back on her habit of keeping it bottled up. Shaking his head, he sat back down across from her, prompting her to look up at him.

"Asia, if you're still worried about being a burden, don't be. If there's something on your mind, feel free to tell me."

She didn't respond at first, or even change her expression, and he briefly wondered if he had misread her mood.

"There is… something I would really like to do. Could I… um…" she looked to be struggling to find the right words until she blurted, "Could I attend the school here? Kuoh Academy?"

Connor blinked, more than a little surprised by the question. Yep, totally misread it.

"Well, if it were a normal school, I would say, "Yes, absolutely." But… there are some things that we need to set straight. First off, what kind of education did you get at the Vatican?"

"Eh? Oh, um… I was taught math, science, world history, and I can read, write and speak English and Italian. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine, we can work with that," he assured. "Secondly, I'm know for a fact that there are Devils among the students, Issei being one of them, but I don't think they're like the one you met. I've been in Kuoh for a little over three weeks, and they haven't done anything to me. I'd like to think that their presence here is benign, but I'm treating them with caution lately.

"And thirdly, given your circumstances, I don't know where you would be placed if you enrolled. There's a pretty high chance that you and I wouldn't be in the same class together."

He felt horrible for doing so, but he was actively trying to talk her out of it, hoping she would take the hint. His encounter with Rias and Sona had left a bad taste in his mouth, and he was afraid that Asia would crumble under pressure from either of them. More Rias than Sona, but in his experience, he'd seen what cruelty a high school kid was capable of. Throw in a Devil and…

"Bearing all this in mind, are you sure you want to go?"

"Yes. I remember your landlord saying that he would allow students as tenants if they had a scholarship from the school here. I like it here. And I…" she paused and glanced away then back to him. "I know I should be happy with what I have, but… I've always wanted to know what a real school is like. And if the Devils here really are nice, then maybe I could… be friends with them… like Issei."

Connor held back a defeated sigh.

Just like that, he had lost. There was nothing more he could say. She didn't even hesitate with her answer this time. She had thought it through and come to a roughly similar conclusion as him. There was no way for her to maintain residence at the apaato other than a scholarship, since he doubted that anyone, even in a small town like this, would hire a foreigner with no prior work experience. And that wasn't even taking into account her broken Japanese.

He understood that he couldn't keep her locked up forever, but there was still so much that he was unsure of: Where her stalker was, whether or not the exorcists would come knocking, and now, how he could swing getting her enrolled into Kuoh.

"Okay," he said, "I can't make any guarantees as of now, but I'll talk to a few people and see what I can do."

That was all she needed to hear, because that same serene smile from two nights ago had returned.

"Thank you."

He wished she wouldn't look at him like that.

"You're welcome."

–––––

'And here I am again,' he thought bitterly. 'I just went in one big circle.'

"Yoo-hoo~" a voice chimed next to him.

Having Tobio help with getting a transcript drawn up for Asia would be a step in the right direction, but there was still the issue of whether she could adapt properly. If only he and Asia had that conversation before his meeting, then maybe the transcript could have been his condition for the investigation job, instead of an easy-to-learn translation spell for her.

Or would that have been too much to ask?

"Yoo-hoo~"

Finally regarding the presence beside him, he looked up.

Seated next to him with a soft smile was a young woman with long brown hair framing her face and cascading past her shoulders in fancy drill-like curls. Her deep blue eyes shined like sapphires in the light and, much like every girl in the academy, the standard uniform made her maturing body appear much more proportionate than an 18 year old's should be.

Kiyome Abe, third-year high school student, captain of the Tennis Club, and self-proclaimed 'Tenisu no Oujo-sama' of Kuoh Academy. (2)

"Got something on your mind, Connor?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah. And for the life of me, I'm without an answer."

"Oh dear," she playfully gasped. "Would you like to talk about it with Big Sis Kiyome?"

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about Kiyome always put him at ease. And it wasn't just him, she had that effect on everybody. At times, she would act like an upper class lady, with exaggerated manners and over-the-top use of 'desu wa' in her speech, and at others, she was completely casual and easygoing, as if she were raised on a farm in the countryside. Maybe it was that she rarely seemed to take herself seriously that made him feel like he could relax around her, even if by just a little bit.

"Sure, 'Sis,' I could use the company," he acquiesced.

He tried to spin the story of Asia's arrival as an accident, how Asia was supposed to have gone to South Korea as part of a foreign exchange program in her private school in Italy, but a ridiculous series of clerical errors left her stranded in Japan instead. From there, she had walked and taken public buses until she reached Kuoh, where she crossed paths with him and Issei, the both of whom helped her with finding a place to stay for a short while.

He thought about using hypnosis again, but the situation didn't really call for it like it had with Watanabe. Even so, he left out details that he felt would be incriminating, as far as involvement with the supernatural, but ended with Asia's desire to attend a school despite her predicament.

Kiyome's expression had turned serious, for only the second time since he'd met her. "Are you afraid that she'll be bullied?"

"I think targeted would be more fitting, but more or less," he conceded.

"Is it the Devils you're worried about?"

Connor's eyes widened slightly. "You know about them?"

"Mm-hm," she smiled cheerfully. "I've known for a long time. I'm a Beast Tamer, so I've been aware of the supernatural part of the world since I was a little girl. I knew that Rias and Sona were Devils from the moment I met them."

It made sense now. Her stance, her walk, her speech, they all pointed to someone who'd worked with phantasmal species for years and knew how to handle themselves around equal or lesser creatures.

'Come to think of it, there always is a bird or two that follows her around when she's outside. Even on the tennis courts, they don't stay very far away from her. Maybe that's part of her Origin? No, that can't be it. If it was, then she'd be the one exhibiting compulsive behaviors, not the beings around her. And that's if she was even a magus awakened to her Origin. This is more like a… an Attribute of sorts.'

"Connor?"

"Oh- Er- Sorry," he stumbled as he brought himself back to reality. "And they haven't approached you about reincarnation?"

"Oh, they have, but I've made it clear to them that I have no intention on becoming a Devil," she mused, twirling one of her drilled bangs. "We're lucky to have Rias and Sona as the ones here, since they're not big on manipulation. They've never brought it up again after that first talk. So what's really going on with this girl? Why will she be targeted?"

He sighed, figuring it was pointless to dodge the truth after being called out like that. "It's because she's a nun. A former nun, but, six of one for a Devil. They already know about her, and Rias has made it clear that she's not welcome. Thing is, there's nowhere else she can go in this town. Her only chance to stay in the apartment I got for her is if she gets a scholarship, otherwise she's getting evicted. I wasn't lying about that."

"I think you're worrying too much," she dismissed.

"I'd rather it be too much than not enough. And what makes you think that?"

"They're not as bad as you think they are; they honor their agreements. I told them that if they never asked to reincarnate me again, they could use the tennis field at any time to settle any disputes between them. To this day, that deal has stuck." She got a confused stare, prompting her to explain further. "They're very competitive with each other, and sports are a way for them to settle their differences and maintain their cover."

"No loopholes?"

"Well…" Her head drooped as she recalled an apparently depressing memory. "Sometimes their duels get pretty intense, and they start using magic against each other. The field ends up looking like a war zone, and my beasts and I are the ones that have to clean up after them while they hypnotize any witnesses. We can do it with no issue, but I just hadn't considered it when I first made the deal with them."

That didn't surprise him. That's why contracts and agreements in this day and age had to have written stipulations at least a mile in length. Even then, no agreement is ever seamless, and where there's a will to exploit it, there would be a way.

"Anyway~," she bounced back, "I think that if you explain this girl's situation, then at the very least Sona will work with you to get her enrolled here. She has a sort of 'leave no one behind' mentality when it comes to education. So here's my advice to you: When you strike a deal with the Devil, think more than one step ahead."

"Abe-sempai!" a voice called, interrupting the serious talk. From their right, a student in the academy's PE uniform –which consisted of a white t-shirt, bloomers and simple running shoes– approached them with something in her hands. She looked ecstatic, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I saw this- oh, hello, Lochlainn-sempai," she paused to politely bow, then swiveled back to Kiyome. "I saw a video over the weekend on how to make a bolas using three tennis balls and some paracord. So I got some paracord last night and made this! Can we go test it out on the perverts?"

Kiyome's eyes lit up. "You know I never turn down Bruiseball! Let's go! Don't be a stranger, Connor!" she declared, jumping to her feet and following close behind her junior. With a new weapon in their arsenal, the two were likely headed to round up other members of the Tennis Club before setting off in search of the Perverted Trio (or The Three Stooges, as the American referred to them). Like any hunt in the wild, there was strength in numbers.

Connor's amused smile slowly faded as he looked down at his hands in thought.

'More than one step ahead, huh?'

---

Pain.

Excruciating, unrelenting pain.

Her mouth was wide open to scream, but no sounds escaped it. Her throat had long since given out.

It had been like this for days: They would drag her into a magic circle in the middle of a dark room underground, invoke some kind of ritual that felt like she was being torn apart from the inside, then give up once nothing happened and throw her into a locked cell until the next day and try again.

She didn't know what day it was, or even what time of day, and they only gave her the barest of essentials in order to keep her alive through their experiment. More than once, she wished that they would just kill her and be done with it. But with her body unable to voice her thoughts, she was left to suffer by their hands in silence.

A loud, grating screech suddenly erupted and echoed against the walls of the underground chamber, sending the exorcists into a panic.

"What the fuck?!"

"Turn it off! Turn it off!" a loud voice tried to exclaim over the noise.

The screech lasted for another few seconds before it abruptly stopped, as did the agony from the ritual. A high-pitched ringing in her ears now accompanied the lingering pain she had become so well accustomed to. From beyond her field of vision, a gaggle of voices flew back and forth in a flurry.

"Oww… my fucking ears!"

"Fucking hell! What happened now?!"

"I don't know. This doesn't make sense. We got all the characters right this time, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I triple checked them."

"All of you, shut up! Go check everything again, now!" She heard no verbal reply, just the scurrying footsteps abandoning the chamber in haste. "Christ! It's always something!"

Her unkempt blond hair was grabbed roughly by a large hand and brought her up to its owner's face. His appearance didn't matter to her, they all looked the same now. He sneered, then dragged her away from the circle and unceremoniously tossed her into the cell, like he always did. She landed hard, but remained unmoving.

"Goddamn bloodsucker. Why did one of His treasures end up with you?" he snarled before slamming the door and locking her inside.

Her red eyes stared blankly at the room's stone-laden wall.

That was a good question: Why did that cursed power end up with her?

It had done nothing but cause her pain. Her own father and half-brother made her into a tool for the 'betterment of their people.' And when rumors flew of it being in her possession, her homeland was suddenly plunged into a brutal and bloody civil war. Noble families that once lived in relative peace with each other for centuries turned on one another. Entire generations slaughtered in a mad grab for the power she never wanted.

These men coveted her Sacred Gear so badly? They could have it. Better that they suffer its curse than her, or…

A lone tear slowly fell from her eye as her thoughts drifted to her friend. The same one that she had come to love as a little brother despite what others said about him. The same one that she would dress up in girls' clothes just to mess with him. The same one that she had tried to escape Romania with to protect him.

The same one that she had watched die by the hands of Vampire Hunters.

Why? Out of all the people in the world to have been shackled with this power, why them?

Previously, she would've crawled to the back corner of the room to try and get a little bit of rest, hoping against hope that the exorcists would make a careless mistake, and that she might find a way to escape. Now, though, her limbs just wouldn't listen to her.

All she could feel was…

Pain.

'Gasper… I'm sorry…'

---

…

(1): The Great Surgery Book: A collective restoration of Paracelsus' previous works that flung him into the limelight of the German Renaissance.

(2): A little bit of a low-budget word play on 'The Prince of Tennis.' I know nothing of the series, so it's just about the title.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 7: Catch

Friday morning promised to be an interesting one for the American magus. He had several people to talk with and get things arranged, which was why he elected to arrive at school an hour earlier than usual. In doing so, he crossed paths with students he didn’t normally see in the mornings, such as the athletic teams performing their daily routines. Most were surprised, but greeted him nonetheless.

Taking a sharp left upon switching out his shoes and entering the school house, he walked to the end of the hallway and passed through the double doors separating the main building from the academy's club wing and stopped at the nearest door on the right. Occupying one of the smaller rooms, the club-in-question's title was laminated and fixed to the door.

For such a bold and prominent sign, the interior of the clubroom was remarkably low-key.

In the center of the small room sat multiple small desks grouped together to form one large table, a heavy canvas drop cloth draped over it and six wooden chairs lining its left and right sides. Along every alabaster-colored wall, at least two framed pictures of Gyosho style calligraphy were hung up to proudly display their messages. Most were excerpts from inspirational quotes or poems, and others like them could be found in various other classrooms and clubs across the academy. None more so than here, though.

The room was currently vacant, save for one man sitting at a desk in the corner. Garbed in an ink-stained yukata and a white bandana tied over his messy black hair, he gazed down at the sheet of paper, writing another piece as part of his morning ritual. So engrossed was he in this that he didn't even notice Connor opening the door to the room. He just continued drawing, singularly focused on the task at hand.

Connor waited until he finished before knocking on the doorframe. The man looked up to to see Kuoh's resident American transfer student waiting for entrance.

“Oh, good morning, Mr. Lochlainn. Come in,” he beckoned, setting his tools down.

With a short bow, Connor entered, maneuvering past the chairs and desks at the room's center.

“What brings to this little hole in the wall?” The man asked, punctuating his joke with an easygoing smile.

Connor shrugged. “I've been cruising the clubs recently, but I've gone long enough without making a decision, according to Kaichō. I've got until Saturday to pick a club, otherwise she'll force me into one.”

“Okay. By you being here, am I to assume you chose the Shodō Club?”

“If the offer is open, yes, I'd like to join.”

'Handa' raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? How much calligraphy do you do on your own?”

“I practice every day when I can.”

The man nodded and stood up, swapping out the paper on his desk for a clean sheet and handing the brush in his hand to Connor.

“Alright, show me. Pick something and go with it. Let me see what you've got.”

Connor nodded, taking the brush and taking a seat. He sat still for a moment to decide what kanji to write, then set to work. Going from left to right, top to bottom, just as Reya had instructed him to do when writing in Kaisho, the most basic of Shodō.

Each stroke of Kaisho followed a rigid order, and the composition and proportions had to be carefully executed, which made the style almost always the first one that students in Japan learned first. His runic magecraft was similar to Kaisho in regard to that rigidity, requiring that each rune follow a strict geometry and never exceed the bounds of an imaginary box. Given this, Connor had thought that the transition between the two would be easier for him than most. However, unlike runes, which had to be individually drawn in no more than one or two strokes, Shodō required multiple, and used different techniques when beginning and ending those strokes.

Things were going well at first, until he reached the bottom. At that point, he made one mistake, which caused him to lose focus. It didn't take long for him to start falling back on old habits that came from years of scribing runes. Still, he powered on through. When he was finished, he set the brush down and leaned back, his eyes fixating on the one stroke that began the downhill slide. He wasn't satisfied with what he saw, but couldn't do anything to correct it. That would only make it worse. In the end, it was what it was. (1)

“First impression: not bad. Unfortunately, it's really rough,” the adviser bluntly critiqued over his shoulder. “A bit heavy-handed, honestly. See this here? You wavered on this hidaribarai (leftward downstroke), as if your hand anticipated something that your mind didn't, and you overcorrected. You also picked straight up on your brush instead of stroking into and away on several ends here. Overall, I'd say that the drawing itself is fine, but your execution is what's lacking.”

The student nodded, which the instructor seemed glad to see.

“But, I can tell how much you want this,” he added. “Even when your hand wavered and you started overthinking things, you kept going. You acknowledge your own mistakes, and you faced your criticism without losing your temper, something that can cost you more than just the used ink and paper. Trust me, I know. There's room for improvement, but that's what this club is for. If you're serious about joining us, then I don't see why you shouldn't be allowed to.”

Connor smiled, glad that his audition could pass muster, despite the flaws.

“Will you be starting right away?”

“Er… Not just yet, sir. I've got a lot of things going on at the moment, and I need to get those sorted out first. Picking a club will take a little bit of the edge off. ”

The man nodded, understanding the feeling all too well. “I see. Well, I'll be glad to have you, Lochlainn, and I know the other students will be, too.” He offered his hand out to shake, which Connor returned proudly.

“Thank you, Mr. Handa.”

“Once you get your things in order, come back so we can get you introduced to the others. Go ahead and let Ms. Shitori know that you've got my approval to join. You'll need to bring your own tools and yukata, and we meet on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays after classes end. As far as exhibitions, there's only a couple times a year that we make any submissions. Quietest club on campus.”

Handa presented a club pamphlet, which Connor accepted with a thin smile.

Quiet was exactly what he needed.

Magecraft of any kind had a way of leaving marks – the kind that drew the wrong eyes, even thousands of miles from the Clock Tower. Between the Devils' jurisdiction and the Grigori's meddling, he had a considerable blanket to keep the Association from looking too deeply, but every little bit helped.

Best to keep his head down and his ink mundane, he figured.

“I'll let you know, sir. Thanks again.”

He bowed once more at the doorway before turning toward his next destination.

'Now comes the tough part.'

---

At the Student Council Office, Connor had just been let in by Tsubaki while Sona was seated at her desk. The stack of paperwork didn't seem to have changed in size since he last saw her, and she looked ready for a break.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Lochlainn?”

Connor had been running the upcoming conversation in his head over and over again last night. With any luck, he could convince the Devil heiress to not instantly dismiss him.

Picking a club would be his overture to the discussion.

“Well,” he began casually, “First of all, I'm letting you know that I'm looking to join the Shodō Club. I got Mr. Handa's thumbs-up.”

Sona looked at him strangely. “Oh? You're 'looking' to join? If you have his approval, then why not officially join?”

“I'm pretty much waiting till the last minute. There's no rush,” he smiled lightheartedly. He could almost feel Sona's desire to roll her eyes as well as Tsubaki's deadpan expression pointed at his head.

A little bit of dry humor to further ease the atmosphere.

“Taking an attitude like that with your education will get you into trouble someday, Mr. Lochlainn. I suggest you rid yourself of such before it's too late,” the Devil heiress scolded.

“Yes, ma'am. And secondly… there's something I need to talk with you about. Alone.”

And finally, the hook.

He looked Sona dead in the eye to let her know he was serious. The change in tone worked just like he wanted; he had her full attention. She said nothing for several seconds, before turning to her Queen.

“Tsubaki, leave us.”

The Student Council VP looked hesitant at first, but a nod from Sona alleviated what worry dotted her face. She bowed and gathered her things before quietly exiting.

Once the door closed, Connor took the seat across from Sona, just as he had two days ago.

'Hope you're right about this, Kiyome.'

“What is it you need to tell me?”

Connor took a calming breath. “How about I start with where this fiasco began?”

Her confused expression turned to disbelief as he relayed Asia's story to her. He did, however, put more focus on her meeting the Devil that led to her exile over what happened afterwards. Her time as a ward of the Fallen would just distract Sona from the real issue at hand.

The Sitri heiress finally voiced her thoughts. “Mr. Lochlainn, what you're telling me is completely absurd. No Devil would ever set foot in the Vatican.”

“I know. I thought so, too, and that's what bothers me,” he countered. “There hasn't been any uproar, otherwise you would've heard about it by now, right? Every Devil would have heard. Granted, the Church probably covered it up in order to save face, but the Vatican is a fortress city, there should be no way for a Devil of any caliber, for any reason, to slip that far in unnoticed. And yet, here we are, talking about a nun who met a Devil in its dead center. It's so outrageous that nobody would dare believe it or give it a second thought, and that's exactly why it's so dangerous.”

Her brow furrowed, which served as his signal to extrapolate his argument.

“This Devil is a predator; he saw an opportunity and took it, however risky it was. I don't doubt that he's still after Asia, and if he succeeds in getting her, he'll be more emboldened to go after somebody else now that he knows a way to get inside the Vatican without a problem. He's no idiot, but he's not perfect either, and things will happen beyond his control. You don't need me to tell you what the result will be if he screws up and gets himself caught.”

The answer was obvious. The Church would interpret the intrusion as an act of aggression and retaliate. Few things in the world were more dangerous than religious zealots, and if somebody ended up pushing the right person the wrong way, it could very easily be the spark to ignite a war in which nobody would win.

Sona looked down to her hands for a moment, then back up to him. “You make a good point, but I simply cannot take action based on the words of a relative stranger. There is no precedent of a Devil setting foot in the Vatican, and you're right, the very idea is simply too preposterous for any Devil to believe. Even if I were to acquire a testimony from Ms. Argento herself, the accusation would be considered empty and discarded almost instantly.”

He figured she might say that. She had even less reason than him to do anything regarding Asia. It was only natural that she would say 'no.'

'Well, at least she gave it real thought. It was wort-'

“However,” she continued, “if what you say is true, then at least one of the Satans should be made aware of this situation.”

He blinked. “You believe me?”

“I'm taking what you say with a grain of salt. I would like to believe you, given how highly at least two of my servants think of you, but I need proof. If you want my help on this, I need to be absolutely certain that what you're telling me is the truth. Then, if I turn it over to the Satans, they can begin an official investigation, and their authority is absolute.”

“Okay, I'll bite. Which Satan did you have in mind?” he asked, wanting her to fill in the blank.

“My elder sister is the Minister of Foreign Affairs. She handles matters that concern relations between the Devils and other supernatural factions. I can contact her to inform her of a threat to the security of our race if the need arises.”

Connor brightened. This was great. Outstanding, even! Sona had family at the top of the pecking order! He was about to ask for details, but when Sona said nothing more for several seconds, and even started to look pensive about the idea, his smile fell flat.

“There's… something you're not telling me. Do I want to know?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in what looked like aggravated indignation.

“Serafall Leviathan is one of the most powerful Devils alive today, but she is embarrassingly unprofessional,” she explained, her cheeks starting to flush red. “If I call her and let her know that there's something I need her help with, she will drop everything and come running, regardless of any mess she might leave in her wake. It wouldn't be the first time she's ditched work for an unplanned visit.”

That last comment made Connor suspicious.

“You haven't used that to your advantage before, have you?” he lightly accused.

Slowly, the most sly smile he'd ever witnessed appeared on Sona's face. She adjusted her glasses in such a way that the sunlight coming in through the window caused a glare that made him wince. When he refocused, her blush was gone and her eyes held a dangerous new glint, as if a different persona had taken over in that split second.

It was quite unnerving to see the straight business-like Sona looking so… unscrupulous.

“I do not confirm nor deny. To call her now, however, may not be wise. Her presence here might scare off this predator, and it if does, your chance of proving Ms. Argento's story goes to waste.”

“I would think that having your sister here as a deterrent would be a good enough trade-off, especially if she could talk to Asia herself. Get a direct testimony, am I right?” Connor reasoned.

“Perhaps, but I suspect that it would become a case of 'He Said, She Said,' given her reputation, and I would prefer getting to the root of this problem. That said, I still need evidence of a crime committed before I can do anything. If you bring me that, then we can discuss what to do about it. I will tell you this, if it helps: As the interim Governors of Kuoh, any Devil other than the Satans must receive clearance from either myself or Rias to enter or reside here. Thus, any Devil without that clearance is trespassing, regardless of whether they are a Stray or not.”

It was the best he could get. Her hands were tied unless she had a fully legal reason to intervene. In the eyes of her people, he was just one human and Asia would always be part of the Church. Sona had no reason to stake her position on a hunch and have it turn out to be a false alarm.

Still, even if it was only in response to a misdemeanor or a citizen's arrest, it was nice to know that he had some semblance of Devil law working in his favor.

“Alright, I'll see what I can do,” he supplied.

“In addition,” she resumed, “I would like to see first-hand what you are capable of. To merely know that you've killed a Fallen Angel is not enough to satisfy my curiosity of you. If you're willing, I could arrange a spar between you and several of my servants, and if that's not to your liking, then I can settle with a chess game. A friendly competition of wits.”

There it was. The catch he was waiting for. She wouldn't go out on a limb even a little bit if she didn't feel she could benefit in some way. She was putting the deal in her favor as much as she could, hunting for information with as little risk as possible. At this point, he couldn't tell who was the real politician: Sona or this Serafall Leviathan.

He didn't want to say that he trusted her now, but he did find her to be… sincere, thanks to this.

“Well, Asia has expressed an interest in attending a real school. If you would consider enrolling her into Kuoh as a transfer student, then yes, I think a chess game would be nice,” Connor acceded. He'd show her some of what she wanted, but not all of it.

That same little smile was now back on her face. It made him squirm in his seat a little bit. “Excellent. I'm looking forward to working with you in the future, Mr. Lochlainn.”

“Likewise, Lady Sitri,” he smiled back.

'Note to self: Ensure that all relations with Sona Sitri remain amicable.'

---

The school bell rang loudly at 4:30 P.M., signaling the dismissal for the day. The students of Kuoh would be back tomorrow for morning classes, then be free to do as they would with their Saturday and Sunday. Many had homework to complete and club activities to attend, but Connor had other plans.

Having struck his deal with the Devil, without any binding paperwork or blood pacts, Connor was optimistic about his chances. Procuring 'proof' would be an adventure into madness that he didn't expect to engage in, but the payoff was too good to pass up. Sona seemed more than glad to oblige by his requests, and if she could get Asia situated, even better.

He was about halfway on his walk back to the apaato when his head shot up from his contemplation. He sensed something. A magic presence, much larger than that of an average person, just crossing the Bounded Field to the complex, then stopping. He picked up the pace, hoping that whatever he had sensed would just pass by. To his growing concern, the presence hadn't left the outer edge of the Field since first coming into contact. If anything, it kept going back and forth across it in the same spot.

That was a bad sign.

As the building came into view, he saw the source of the anomaly. It was a man, rather short with dark green hair and dressed in a dark gray suit with a long matching overcoat. He was looking this way and that, like he was searching for something in the road before him.

Connor approached the man cautiously. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Hm?” The man turned to face him with his gold-colored eyes and, from what Connor could tell, was trying to hold back a sneer.

“Do you need help with something?” he asked as politely as possible.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do. I'm looking for someone.”

Connor had to clench his teeth to keep from smiling as one of his favorite movie lines from a certain green alien popped up in his head.

The man continued, “She is my fiancée, and we're spending our engagement traveling the world. Unfortunately, we got separated. I haven't seen her in hours, and I'm starting to worry.”

“Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Have you… tried calling her, or the local police station?” Connor offered. That story had more holes than a broken sieve, but he tried to keep his disbelief from showing. Traveling the world for their engagement, and he lost her, in this tiny town? Really?

“Yes, and she's usually very quick to answer. I think she might have lost her cell phone. And the police won't be of any help. Those fools are all too busy with other matters.”

“I see. Okay, um… well, what does your fiancée look like? What's her name?”

“She's the most gorgeous woman in the world,” the man gushed, turning overly dramatic on a dime, “Her name is Asia. Asia Argento. She has long blonde hair, brilliant green eyes, the voice of an angel, and she has the kindest soul you will ever meet! There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about her, and it pains me to think that she's out there somewhere all alone.”

The very thing Connor had feared would happen had just come true right in front of him. Now, a chilling sense of dread was forming in his stomach, similar to the kind that one gets when they venture within striking range of a venomous snake.

'Of all people…'

“You wouldn't happen to have seen her, would you?” The man asked, having finished his monologue.

Connor looked him in the eye, resisting the urge to swallow the lump in his throat. His right hand went into his pocket slowly, grasping the runestones inside. “Well, with how you described her, I think she'd be pretty hard to miss. I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anyone like that.”

“Are you sure?” the man probed further.

“Yes. I'm sure.”

Nothing more was said as the two stared at one another for a short time before the man sighed.

“Very well, I'll just keep looking.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't help, but I need to go,” Connor excused himself. “Good luck in your search.”

The man watched with narrowed eyes as Connor disappeared from view into his apartment. He could feel the gaze on the back of his head as he moved. The door closed behind loudly, the sound almost echoing in his ears to exacerbate what he already knew.

---

It had been a frustrating twenty-four hours for the Astaroth heir, what with the endless obstacles he faced in securing Asia. The search had turned up almost nothing. It was only just now that his incensed wanderings had brought him to this tiny apartment building with a barrier of some sort surrounding it. On closer inspection, this barrier wasn't constructed or held together using the same formulae that he had seen most magicians use. Even his own Bishops didn't have such magic in their arsenals. If anything, it looked like this one was formed by drawing magical energy from the earth itself. Curious.

In the middle of his inspection, he was interrupted by an apparent denizen of the building. A rather nondescript specimen, no distinguishing features besides the fact that he spoke fluent English and was thus clearly foreign. He came off as a fool at first, but the way he turned rather curt after Diodora described Asia was enough of a clue to him.

That human was hiding something.

While sorely tempted to force answers out from him, there were witnesses coming along in several directions, so he let the whelp go. He was about to summon his Queen and several more of his servants once the coast was clear, but then got an idea. Canceling the magic circle, he headed back into town, looking for a suitable pair of individuals to carry out his bidding.

Sure enough, within about ten minutes of searching, he spotted two exorcists in street clothes touring the market district for snacks. He had seen two others last night, and one of his Rooks had evidently seen even more, which led him to believe that they were looking for Asia, too. In that case, it wouldn't take much to 'enlist' their services, should the need arise.

Such need had done just that.

He ducked into a nearby alley, watching them as they checked out from a vendor and moved in his direction. There were no witnesses looking their way; perfect. Just as the two were about to pass by, he turned the corner in front of them. He quickly placed his hands directly in their faces before they could react, invoking magic circles to open their minds to suggestion.

“Do not be alarmed. You are happy to see me.”

He let his hands down, and the men stood in place with dazed stares. They both blinked, then looked at Diodora and stood at attention as if he were some sort of officer, dropping their newly purchased cargo.

“Good to see you, sir,” one of the men said with a hint of pride.

“Yes, it is,” he said with a smirk. Pitiful as they were, it was always fun to use humans like puppets. “Listen up. Asia Argento is in a small apartment building to the north of here. Your orders are to bring Asia to me, alive and unharmed, by any means necessary. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

They turned and marched away, neither of them seeing the smirk on Diodora's face widen. Helping himself to some chocolate-coated pocky among the forgotten comestibles, he slowly strolled into town, taking his sweet time to enjoy the cherry on top of his little plan.

A smart Devil used every resource at his disposal. And Diodora Astaroth was a smart Devil. While his own peerage members would certainly get the job done, having such mindless pawns do the heavy lifting was a rare treat. If they succeeded in their 'mission,' he would simply kill them and take Asia once they retrieved her. It made no difference to him if they killed the human male in order to do it. If they failed, he lost nothing. The deaths of the human and/or the exorcists could be written off as more victims to a murderer that had appeared in Kuoh not long ago.

Whatever the means, Asia would be his.

“It won't be long now.”

---

Connor, in the meantime, was quickly checking all of his existing runic defenses in his apartment.

He knew that his cover was blown, and by his own hand, no less. The Devil had seen through his attempts at denial. Not that he could've dissuaded the man anyway. He could sense the Bounded Field, and was starting to get pushy towards the end of that conversation.

Why Connor didn't ask Asia earlier for a physical description of the scumbag was beyond him, but he could kick himself for it later.

That, and a few other things.

–––––

He had waited until the Devil's presence had left the Field before slipping outside again, checking in all directions, then knocking rapidly on Asia's apartment door.

“Come on, Asia, open up,” he mumbled impatiently, eyes continuing to dart around the area.

The door clicked and opened slightly, giving him the chance to push the door open just enough and slip inside and close it again.

Asia was taken aback by the forceful entry. “Connor? A-are you okay?”

“I wish. Asia, before I say anything else, I need you to promise me that you won't panic. Can you do that?” She nodded nervously. “Alright… That Devil you healed in the Vatican? I just met him outside.”

He didn't give her much time to react as he quickly grasped her shoulders and locked eyes with her.

“Asia, listen to me. He doesn't know where you are, but he believes that I know. If we want to keep it that way, I need you to stay inside, not make a sound, and not even look out any of the windows until I come to get you. I know I've been asking you to do that already, but I really need for you to do it now. Okay?”

His entreaty had quickly squashed her panic, but now she expressed worry for a different reason. Once again, she nodded.

“Okay… Just… promise me that you won't get hurt.”

“I'll do everything in my power.”

–––––

He didn't like making promises that had no guarantee, but he hated seeing her scared even more.

The camouflaging runes inside her apartment would keep anyone outside from sensing her, even while within the Bounded Field itself, but only so long as she stayed where she was. As far as Connor knew, the Devil didn't know precisely where Asia was, and would be coming after him in order to find out. He would be using that to his advantage.

With everything currently in order, he went back to the bedroom to review the runic traps that he wanted to place. There wasn't time to do all of them now, but maybe one or two-

He sensed the Bounded Field detecting two new signatures passing through its border. They were bigger than a normal person's, but not like the Devil's had been, and they were heading straight for him. Abandoning his efforts for the time being, he killed the lights and took cover in the bathroom.

It was only for about thirty seconds that he stayed crouched behind the wall. From his point of view, though, it felt like hours. Just listening, waiting for something to happen.

Finally, he could hear the footfalls of heavy boots come up to the door, then stop.

…

…

…

The silence was agonizing.

Connor could hear own heart beating a mile per minute in his ears.

Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated from the door, as if someone were kicking at it. It made Connor jump, but he maintained his position. Several more bangs followed, and still the door didn't budge. He knew it would hold; it had been the first thing he reinforced after coming inside. Eventually, the banging stopped, and the silence continued.

Slightly emboldened, Connor started to lean out of the bathroom to take a curious look. According to the Field, they were still there, but-

Two blue-and-white blades of light ignited and pierced through the cracks between the door and the frame, slicing straight down and shearing through both the lock and hinges like so much paper. Another strong kick sent the door forward, hitting the genkan's step and slamming into the ground.

'Son of a bitch… hadn't considered that.'

The silhouettes of two individuals now stood in the open doorway. The last remnants of evening light funneling into the apartment made him squint for a moment as his eyes adjusted. Judging by the unnatural shapes at the ends of their limbs, the two were also wielding firearms.

He stayed still, watching as the first form crept through the corridor and past the bathroom. He could identify them now: two men, clothed in the same contrasting uniforms he saw at the church. Setting that aside for later, he waited until the second man came into view.

Then he struck.

Connor leaped out and sucker punched the second man with an enhanced right hook, sending him headfirst into the wall and causing the weapon in his hand to clatter to the floor. His cry of pain alerted the other man, his head whipping around to look behind him. Connor had also turned to look right back at him, Mystic Eyes ablaze. Looking into his eyes bore what he sought: The intent of his first attacker. The man was going to draw his gun and open fire, not thinking about whether he would hit his compatriot or not. Panic was clouding his reason, as if he were… bewildered.

In response, Connor grabbed the second man's coat and rolled backward against the wall, switching places with the stunned man and putting him between himself and the to-be shooter. As he foresaw, said shooter's large pistol let loose three bullets in rapid succession, striking the human shield and killing him almost instantly when one pierced his heart.

Connor's ears were screaming from the god-awful noise of gunfire in this small space, but he couldn't stop now. Firing the adrenal runes on his arms, he put all the strength he had available into throwing the now lifeless body towards the shooter. The corpse barreled into the man, sending him into the wall and then the floor and his gun flying across the room. Taking this chance, Connor darted forward and hoisted the man up before putting his neck in a sleeper hold. The man reached for something on his belt, but Connor kicked into the man's knee, forcing him down, then leaned his upper body in to continue applying pressure to the hold.

Now disarmed, off balance and out of air, the man raked and clawed at Connor's arms, trying desperately to make him let go.

'Go to sleep! Go to sleep, damn you! C'mon!'

After what felt like an eternity for the magus, which was really only ten seconds, the man finally stopped struggling and went limp. Connor quickly checked for a pulse. Finding a faint one, he loosened his grip to drop him, then leaned against the wall to catch his breath and calm down while shutting off the Eyes and allowing the backlash to run its course.

He'd been expecting for his attackers to be of a more fiendish variety, not rogue exorcists. Thankfully, prior to the attack, he had placed runes on the walls that soundproofed his apartment from the inside. Even Asia and the elderly couple living on the first floor wouldn't hear a thing of what happened.

Then again, somebody might have heard the breach attempt. If anyone did show up to investigate the noise, he'd have to hypnotize them quickly to make them leave.

Running a hand down his face, noting the sticky sensation, he looked down at the unconscious man.

He could've killed him. He still could kill him, but that would be pointless. There hadn't been any indication that the exorcists holed up in the church had discovered this place at all. Not a single one had passed by in the last week.

He needed answers.

He turned the kitchen light back on, then dragged the man into a dining room chair, using Nauthiz to lock his wrists against one another behind the chair's back and his legs against those of the chair. They would all be stuck together like glue until he dispelled the runes. From there, he propped the front door up along the wall and moved the corpse out of the main corridor and into the dining room, propping him up against the wall opposite the bound man.

He took out his phone and called the number he'd been holding out on.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you got a few minutes?”

“What? Um… sure, what's going on?”

“Get over to my apartment. There's something you need to see.”

“Lochlainn, what's going on?”

“Just get over here, quietly.”

“…Okay. I'll be there shortly.”

Connor hung up, then double checked the exorcist's restraints before going into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he saw the drying streaks of red along his face and the flecks dotting his neck and shirt from the impromptu shield. After cleaning and ridding his face of the grime, he decided to inspect the damages done to the door. Before long, he felt another presence enter the Bounded Field. He looked up and sighed in relief when the man he'd made the call to came into view.

The Grigori agent blinked in surprise, seeing the state of his 'informant.' “Whoa… What happened here?”

“Unwelcome visitors. One's dead, the other's out cold. Figured you might want to listen in.” Connor beckoned Tobio inside and showed him the man in the chair as well as the corpse.

“Exorcists?”

“From the looks of their stuff, yeah.”

Tobio walked to the dead exorcist and bent down to pull some device off of his belt, looked to the captive's belt, then held the item up for Connor to see.

“Luc-ky,” he complimented. “Looks like you dealt with these two so quickly, neither one had the chance to activate these.”

The magus squinted at the object. “What is that? A pager?”

“An emergency GPS beacon. All exorcists work in pairs, and large groups always have a quick means to contact one another if a field team runs into trouble. Cell phones, flares, things like that. This is a standard issue, so I can guess that it's not the only one here in Kuoh. It goes off, and every exorcist within five kilometers will be alerted.”

“Calling for backup would be the first thing you do in the event of a raid, right?” Connor asked, getting a nod. “Well, they just came right in, swords drawn, no backup.”

“Really?” Tobio looked toward the bound man. “Then there must be something- oh look, he's coming to.”

“Perfect timing. Hey, wake up,” Connor said, unceremoniously slapping the man across the face.

The captive jolted awake and glanced around confusedly, as if he had no idea where he was. “T-The fuck?! Wh-”

“Hey, look at me, focus.” Connor snapped his fingers in the man's face. “You and your buddy would have a lot of explaining to do, but you'll have to do it for both of you.” He gestured to the body of the man's colleague, intending to scare him with it. “You tell me everything I want to know, and I promise that I will not kill you, even after you tried to kill me. How many of you are there in Kuoh? I know that there are more.”

“Fuck you!” the guy spat. “If you know that, then you should know they'll come looking for me, wherever here is! And what'dya mean I-”

“They won't get here in time to save you,” Tobio interrupted, his calm and level voice acting in contrast to Connor's demanding tone. “And even if they did, they'd likely kill you themselves for getting caught in the first place. You've got no reason to protect them, so it's really in your best interest to speak up.”

“And if what I've learned is any indication, Freed will not make it quick and painless.” That got a reaction. The man's eyes widened and his face blanched, showing Connor how much the fear of Freed stuck with these guys. “So answer the question: How many?”

Even after being reminded of Freed, the man hesitated to answer, but caved before too long. “It was… fifteen to start. But when the… our old bosses bailed, the new boss brought in some more guys. I think it's twenty or so now, maybe two dozen.”

“So you knew the Fallen had left Kuoh?” Tobio asked.

“Yeah, I knew! We all fucking knew! But the boss's got his head up his ass and- W-Wait, how do you know about the Fallen?”

“Stay on topic, genius. Why did you come here? To this building?” Connor continued.

“I… I don't know. We… my partner and I were in the market district and… and then, the next thing I know,… I'm here… I- I don't even remember coming here!”

“What do you mean 'you don't remember?' It's at least a ten minute walk from here to the market. Are you saying you blacked out and sleepwalked here? The both of you?”

“I don't know! The last thing I remember is getting some food from a street vendor, that's it!”

'Hypnosis,' Connor guessed, leaning back. The genuine confusion in this man's eyes told him that he wasn't lying. He exchanged glances with Tobio, who he could assume was thinking the same thing.

“Fine. Next question: What are you hiding in the basement of the old church?” the magus pressed.

The exorcist began to sweat a bit more. “Wh- The fuck're you talking about? What basement? It's just us there.”

Connor exhaled through his nose and laid into the man with a hard left punch to the man's diaphragm before grabbing him by his hair to force his head back up. “Listen, you waste of oxygen! I don't care if you remember doing it or don't, but you and your buddy just tried to kill me. I'm not in the mood for this bullshit, so answer the fucking question before I start feeding you your own teeth!”

“That's enough!” Tobio pulled the magus away, leaving the captive gasping and sputtering as he fought to catch his breath again. Connor was reaching a boiling point, prompting Tobio to play the good cop, otherwise they'd never get what they wanted. “Look, what happened, happened, get over it. Brutalizing your one source of information until he can't talk is not the way to get results.” He turned and leaned down to meet the captive face-to-face.

“The sooner you talk, the closer we get to working out a deal for your cooperation. I can't help you otherwise. Got it?” Tobio explained.

The man nodded. “Okay… I'll talk… The boss… had a bloodsucker brought in with the new guys. He thinks that… she has a Sacred Gear. We've been trying to extract it for several days, but-”

“With what?” Connor cut back in, ignoring Tobio's glare, “Your state-of-the-art facilities? The most advanced minds of your age? You're wasting your time with a spell that's obviously not working, and vampires can't get Sacred Gears, anyway!”

“She's a dhampir! Half human, half vampire, I don't know how the fuck that works, but Boss thinks she's got something real special.”

“How?”

“I don't know! He says he can sense it!”

Connor stared at the man. Tobio had said that 'hybrids of humans' could be born with a Sacred Gear. A vampire having a Sacred Gear should be impossible, but if said vampire or whatever had a human parent, did that make all the difference? Did that apply to anything with a trace of human heritage?

He turned to Tobio once again for a second opinion, only now, the agent was looking down in deep thought.

“What's with that look?”

“Give me a minute. I need to make a call.” Tobio took out his phone from his pocket and walked out the front doorway without another word.

The sudden exit left the room's two remaining occupants in an awkward silence. Tired and frustrated, the magus took this time to sit down in another chair and take several calming breaths. The exorcist watched and waited for him to finish, not wanting to incur another beating.

“Hey, look… I know we've been wasting our time,” he slowly began. “It didn't work the first three times we tried it, but the boss is nuts. I guess he thinks that… that this is his ticket into favor with someone high up in Grigori. I don't know, nobody believes him, but everyone's scared of him. Just the other night, Freed slaughtered a guy in his own home, and the boss said he'd let that happen to us if we deserted. He's the only one Freed listens to. He's got him on a leash and a noose around everyone else's neck!”

“No, I get it, I understand,” Connor waved it off. “Some unqualified bigshot takes charge, the power goes to his head, and everyone else suffers for it. Happens all the time, but I'm not the one you need to convince of that.” He gestured to the front door where Tobio had stepped out. “It's that guy. He and I are working for different people.”

“Oh…Who're you working for?”

“Can't say. All I can tell you is that his are much higher on the totem pole.”

Almost a full minute of silence later, Tobio came back from the apartment entrance, completely straight-faced. Unlike before, Jin was now right next to him, staring at the exorcist intently.

Connor stood up slowly, not liking that look.

“Tobio?”

Jin suddenly darted past him.

“Wh-”

“No! NONONO-AGHHGH!” The captive didn't get much else out before the sentient Sacred Gear lunged at him, pushing the bound man onto his back and sinking his fangs into his throat. A choked scream preceded the sound of tearing flesh, and a frantic gurgling soon followed. Within seconds, it was over, and Jin withdrew to return to Tobio's side, his mouth coated with blood and dripping onto the floor in a trail.

Connor stared at the newly made corpse in shock. The man's eyes were staring up at the ceiling, frozen in terror and pain, while the pool of blood beneath him continued to grow, in no small part due to the gaping holes in his neck. The sounds of the execution replayed in Connor's head over and over like a broken record.

He turned an irate glare towards an indifferent Tobio. “What the fuck was that?! What happened to the deal?!”

“No deal for any of them,” Tobio declared. “New orders from Azazel. He wants the exorcists terminated and the dhampir retrieved, immediately.”

“Terminated? Really?” Connor scornfully remarked. “Your boss not worried about bad publicity anymore?”

“No, he was using his 'No Objections' voice. The last time I heard him speak like that, it was a diplomatic nightmare, and a lot of people died.”

“Diplomatic? How does that-” Connor began to ask, but gave up, throwing his hands in the air. There was no point in trying to make sense of it. “You know what? Fuck it! Whatever. So you're finally taking out the trash? Fine, you go and do that. If you're just gonna kill them all, they won't be my problem anymore.”

“Glad you agree. I was going to suggest that you stay here and watch over Ms. Argento, in any case. You could tell, couldn't you? These men were hypnotized, and obviously by someone powerful enough for it to work on trained soldiers, and they knew where to send them. If a second wave comes and neither of us are here…” he trailed off, letting Connor finish that hypothetical for himself.

Connor nodded. “Right… Okay, I'll hold down the fort, and… do something about the door. You two have fun with your hunt.”

“Actually, I'm leaving Jin here with you. He'll be your backup. I can handle the exorcists by myself.”

His eyes widened slightly, truly surprised that Tobio was willing to throw him yet another bone. Or was he just trying to ingratiate himself now that they had a common enemy? Connor looked down at the… entity, which merely tilted his head curiously. It would be an amusing sight if there wasn't still some blood coloring his black maw an unsettling shade of dark red.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Thanks, but what about you? You're not just going to scour town for them, are you?”

“No, not when I have this,” Tobio answered, holding up the beacon.

The wheels started to turn in Connor's head. Tobio was going to use their distress beacon against them and draw them all back to him for an ambush. Using one beacon at a time would take too long, but if there were more beacons at the church like Tobio suspected and he set them off at the same time, the away teams might coming running back like the world was ending. Right into his crosshairs.

“Alright. Assuming you terminate them all, however you will, can I expect you to come back here with the dhampir?”

“Yes, I don't know what kind of condition she's going to be in. And uh…” he paused, looking down at the dead men on the floor, “don't worry, I'll help clean up this mess.”

“I hope so,” Connor said dryly. “I don't want to explain to my landlord that I'm using my apartment as a body dump. Old man's had enough problems with his heart.”

Cleaning up was actually quicker than the magus thought it would be. Tobio simply had the bodies dropped into a dark magic portal, what he called a 'shadow pocket,' and said that he would destroy them later. Connor's own runes took care of the blood through the use of Tiwaz and Raidho drawn onto an empty jar to pull the splatters and pools inside for easy disposal. The front door would have to wait, given that its supports were completely ruined.

With the cleanup taken care of and the plan reviewed for good measure, Tobio was about to depart for his extermination task before Connor stopped him outside the doorway.

“Before you go. There's a false wall right behind the altar that leads to the basement. I don't know the layout down there, but that's where you'll find your dhampir. Also, if you can, try and salvage some of the exorcists' equipment for me, or at least leave some behind for me to go pick up later. I'll consider that my bonus for my investigation.”

Tobio arched an eyebrow, then let out a chuckle. “You're pretty greedy, you know that?”

The magus just smiled in response. “Every magus is greedy. Comes with the lifestyle, and I like to be prepared. You sure you've got this?”

“Jin and I have faced worse. These thugs will be nothing. Just be ready for when I come back.” With that, he jumped the railing, taking off to the edge of the Bounded Field and vanishing into the darkness once past it.

Connor watched his exit, then went back inside to begin the process of trying to barricade the entrance, Jin padding behind him. He didn't feel the need to wish Tobio luck. It wouldn't make a difference. If the man was confident enough to take on two dozen Strays by his lonesome, then that was his prerogative. Connor didn't know how Sacred Gear wielders fought, but he imagined that just one was more than enough to match a large force of those lacking one.

A massacre was inevitable.

'The real question is where it'll happen. There, or here?'

---

…

(1): Tamashī, which means 'soul.'

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 8: Siege

With Tobio having gone to deal with the Stray exorcists holed up in the abandoned church, minus his canine companion, that left Connor with a very unusual house guest, and the lingering possibility of someone coming to finish what the home invaders had started.

The magus was just now finishing up his work on the door, having spent little more than five minutes on it. It was a quick fix; a hastily constructed barricade using the original door, the dining room table and the lounge chair from the living room, all of which were sandwiched together by Nauthiz runes across every contacting surface of the objects in question. The whole thing was ugly, but functional. Nothing would be coming in or going out unless the door itself was obliterated for one reason or another.

This left Connor's only way out to be the patio, which was less than optimal, but only temporary. His shoes would have to stay on while inside for tonight.

He had also taken some time to rummage through the dead exorcists' equipment and tools. Both men had been carrying one firearm and one melee weapon, as well as several other tools for work in the field of 'purging the unholy.'

Among the most intriguing loot was one of their light swords, if he dared call it that. Weighing rather lightly in his hand compared to the runic sword, the hilt had a slanted guard at the top and several sections of lightweight metal of different thicknesses composing its main body. Toward the bottom, the weapon bore a rubberized grip that housed what he assumed to be the power cell, and was capped with a pommel bearing short semi-circular grooves and a clip to hang from a belt.

When he pressed a recessed button near the top, a blade of light shot out and came to a stop at about the length of his arm. He would readily admit that he got lost for a moment, transfixed on this surreal fusion of technology and magic. The light blue glow was pleasing to the eye and the hum it generated was almost hypnotic. Even better was that, unlike his runic sword, there was no counterweight to the weapon; everything was in the hilt.

If he ever got a hold of multiple light swords, he could see himself not leaving the apartment for a long time, even at the expense of school. He'd be far too busy dismantling the weapons and trying to learn how they worked. Just thinking about it brought a smile to his face.

While he familiarized himself with his new weapon and added a couple of runes to the outer casing, he attempted to break the ice with Jin.

“So, uhh… How does Tobio talk with you?”

Jin tilted his head.

“Does he talk to you like this all the time,” he pointed back and forth between the two of them, “or can you two talk telepathically?”

Jin lifted his paw and tapped it on the floor twice.

“Telepathy, then?” Jin nodded. “Alright, makes sense. Can you do that with anyone?”

Connor could've sworn he saw the dog's left eyebrow quirk.

“Er, what I mean is… when you jumped into that shadow up on the roof, I assumed you could do that with anything, or anyone, right?” Jin nodded. “Well, if you jump into a person's shadow, can you talk with them telepathically?”

A sideways shake of the dog's head shot him down.

“Oh. Okay,” he muttered in disappointment. “Guess we're stuck like this, huh?”

Jin shrugged, which made his mane puff up a little bit.

“Well, could be worse. Incidentally, beside shadow hopping, what else can you do?”

Jin stared at him for a few seconds, and an uncomfortable silence ensued. Connor got his answer, though, when the shadows around him and Jin ripped themselves from the ground and the walls, gathering around the canine's mane. When they stopped, Jin stood up and bristled. The shadows burst outward and formed multiple sharpened edges along his body. His head, back, shoulders, legs and even tail were all now covered in sickle-shaped blades, and each one looked sharp enough to slice through steel like it were paper.

Then, the shadowy blades began to move again. Like snakes in the grass, they slithered back into his body, up his neck and face, converging at his mouth and forming a pitch black scimitar. Clutching the winding grip in his teeth, he looked up at Connor. Engraved along the cutting edge, Connor could see some kind of characters in a glowing blood red, not unlike Jin's eyes.

“Whoa…” Moving closer, he inspected the blade. While the glowing characters were from a language he had never seen before, they bore a faint resemblance to both Hebrew and Arabic in certain places.

Before the magus could ask any further, Jin's ears suddenly perked up and his head jerked toward the door. The sudden movement made Connor jump back a bit, as focused as he was on the sword. Jin got to his feet as a snarl began to emanate from his throat, and his eyes narrowed. The hair along his back was standing straight up, much like an actual dog's fur when they felt threatened.

Connor was about to ask what was wrong, until he felt it for himself.

Six signatures had just crossed the Bounded Field. One matched up to the power level of the man he'd met earlier, while the other five weren't quite as large as the man's, but still stronger than that of a human. The Devil was back, and he brought friends. Connor stood up and looked to his temporary companion.

“Yeah, looks like we got company. Come on, I'm not waiting around this time.”

He went for the patio, with Jin preemptively hopping into his shadow. If he could catch them off guard, then maybe he could take down a few before things got out of hand.

For a magus to be the aggressor was unthinkable, but if he had any chance at all against six enemies, he had to strike first.

---

Tobio had kept a swift and steady pace on his way to the church, only slowing down once he got within visual range of the decrepit building.

His plan of attack was simple: Eliminate all hostiles currently on site, use what he could find to draw in and eliminate the remaining hostiles, then get the dhampir to safety. Since Canis Lykaon allowed him to produce blades from any shadow within his field of vision, he needed only to view sources of light and follow the shadows cast by objects around that light in order to best turn a fight in his favor. If the state of this place at first glance was any clue, he would have very little trouble should it come to that, even without Jin beside him.

Approaching the nearest corner of the church and placing his hand on the wall, he sensed an energy similar to that of the Field surrounding Connor's apartment building. It was barely noticeable, but the sensation was like a difference in air pressure as one stepped into a pocket of cold air on a warm night. Less stuffy and even somewhat relaxing. Other than exist, though, it didn't seem to do anything, so he moved on. He could ask about it later.

From an open window, he gave a quick scan of the chapel and spotted his first targets. Two men, one sitting on a pew near the front and tinkering with something, the other pacing back and forth across the floor humming a tune to himself. The shadows around the first man provided all he needed to eliminate them quickly.

He crept around to the entrance and slipped through without a sound. He watched from behind an open doorway and waited until the second guard came back around to his cohort, then took the shot. Shadowy spikes erected from the floor and plunged into the base of the men's skulls, killing them instantly. Several more spikes pierced the standing exorcist and kept him upright, easing the body down to prevent it from making noise were it to fall. The man in the pew just slumped backward and came to rest with his head facing up.

The Grigori agent let out an agitated breath. There were days when he hated his job, even when it had to be done. He didn't enjoy killing. It reminded him too much of the classmates he'd been forced to kill years ago after the Utsusemi Agency came hunting for him and the other survivors of their pet project, and it was a long time before he finally came to terms with what he'd needed to do. Back then, it was in self-defense, and he was putting his peers out of their misery, unlike here, where the mission specifically called for these men to die in order to prevent more suffering.

Without another glance to the two corpses, Tobio walked to the altar and ascended the steps, not making even slightest of sounds.

'Now, about this wall.'

He went from left to right against the back wall, lightly tapping his finger against it and listening for a difference in sound. After a few seconds of searching, he discovered a section of wood amidst the stone wall just large enough for one person to move through with relative ease. Silently, he congratulated the exorcists; from a distance, even with his trained eyes, this fake wall was practically invisible.

He conjured a blade in his right hand and traced the line between the real wall and the wood until he found a suitable gap. Levering the blade like a pry bar, he slowly pushed the blade forward and kept his left hand against the false wall, pulling it up and out with barely a creak.

The whole thing was little more than a plywood cutout, with bracing legs at the back to hold it up. Behind the cutout, a long staircase descended below ground, where he could make out faint voices coming from around the corner to a left hand turn.

Carefully, he set the door aside and began traversing down the stairs, his eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. He checked the corner, and could now see light at the bottom. Watching every step, he moved against the wall slowly until he reached the end of the staircase and stopped. A quick scan of the hidden room revealed it to be an old storage room, based on the unused boxes and plastic containers stashed in one corner.

His targets, or at least a sizable number of them, were holed up down here as well. Six men were positioned on small fold-up cots to the left of the basement entrance. Three of them were asleep, two more were eating snacks while sitting up, the sixth was relaxing and reading from a smartphone, and four others were further away in the center of the room, standing on some sort of diagram lit with candles around the outer edge. They were in a quiet but heated discussion, based on the gestures of one big man in particular.

Counting the two dead men upstairs and the two from the apartment, the total came out to fourteen.

Ten on one was normally a bad idea for close quarters. Here, though, he had full advantage. The hanging light fixtures and candlesticks along the walls were the only lights to be found, providing plenty of shadows by which he could use his Gear to attack without them even knowing he was there.

If nothing else, they would get a quick death.

At that moment, he heard something skitter across the floor. Looking down, he saw the blur of a small creature with a long tail vanish into a hole in the wall.

One of the snacking men stopped and looked around. “What was that?”

Tobio backed up a bit, but still kept the group in his sight.

“What was what?” the man's fellow eater asked, halfway through a protein bar.

“That sound, did you not hear it?”

“No, 's probly just a mouse lookin' for crumbs. I've seen 'em in here before, don't worry 'bout it.”

“No, no, that… didn't sound like a mouse. It was like a-”

“Ugh, Diedrich, don't even start,” the reader griped while he set his phone down and sat up. “Nobody wants to hear you go on and on about what you think every little noise could be.”

“Go back to your fantasy novel, asshole.”

“I will, just as soon as you stop being so damn paranoid. It's fucking irritating.”

“Would you guys just shut up?! You-guurk!”

“Whoa, what-aaugh!”

The argument was violently stopped as Tobio took the chance swiftly cut down one man after another, giving no time for any of them to act; sickles tearing open their throats, spikes stabbing their skulls and hearts. Those who died immediately were the lucky ones. In a fraction of a second, he slaughtered all ten men in the room, including the ones by the circle, with a flick of a wrist.

With the area clear, Tobio stepped around the corpses and toward the diagram to get a better look. Using his phone's camera feature, he went about taking pictures of the evidence in preparation for his eventual report. He'd seen this ritual before when he and Shemhazai oversaw the extraction of a Sacred Gear from a Stray Devil that had killed two of their operatives, so he knew what to look for.

The layout of the base was correct, as were the specific symbols and the needed numbers of them, but the symbols were misaligned and in the wrong places, which would cause interference at crucial points in the ritual's process. Smudge marks from erased earlier attempts gave the impression that this group really was just using trial and error to solve the problem, with no success. They were just spinning their wheels and digging themselves into a deeper pit.

Shaking his head, having seen all he needed to of this, Tobio pocketed his phone glanced around the room to continue his search. His eyes stopped when they came upon two wooden doors recessed in the middle of one wall. Both were held in place with padlocks and simple hasps bolted to the wall.

Nothing a shadow blade couldn't quickly sever.

He pushed the now unlocked right hand door open, and was greeted to the sight of a body lying on the ground mere feet from the exit.

His heart sank, believing himself to be too late. He bent down to examine them, and on closer inspection, he found that the body belonged to the person he was here to retrieve. Pointed ears and sharp fangs for top canine teeth indicated her to be the dhampir these men were holding captive.

“Miss? Miss, can you hear me?” No response. He frowned and checked her pulse and breathing next. To his relief, he could see her stomach was rising and falling with every breath, and her pulse was weak but still active. He went back to grab a flashlight from one of the dead exorcists, then gently pulled open of her eyes –a striking ruby color with a slit pupil– and shined the light directly into it. The pupil dilated, which was enough for him.

She was alive, but incognitive.

Tobio knew enough magic to treat minor injuries and even stabilize someone until a medical specialist could help, but this was beyond his skill level. She needed the Grigori's doctors.

First things first, though. The remaining exorcists needed to be dealt with. He laid the woman back down and shut the door to her room. He then rummaged through the corpses to pick out all the beacons he could find. Just as he'd suspected, every one of them had one.

The agent pulled the bodies of the dead exorcists off to the side of the chamber and piled them all underneath the cots. While he worked, he grabbed their weapons and tools before dumping it all into the shadow pocket. The equipment could be put to better use with more loyal Grigori operatives, and he could pick and choose what Connor received as a 'bonus' once the job was done.

He hit the button for the first two beacons, then another two, then three, then the remaining five, timing every set so as to imitate a wave among those at the church calling for backup. Once the devices were active, he scattered them across the center of the floor and destroyed all the light fixtures and candles, plunging the chamber into complete darkness. They would be blind as bats down there without something to provide light. Not that those would be of any help to them.

He didn't have to wait for very long. Within about five minutes, footsteps could be heard directly above on the rickety old boards, followed by a clamorous group of voices all shouting out, “Clear!”

“All clear here! Secure the chamber!”

Taking cover in the recess to the dhampir's dooway, he watched and waited as more armed men descended the stairs, flashlights and guns drawn.

He waited until he could see nobody else coming down the stairs.

And then…

Light's out.

“What? What happened?”

“The hell's wrong with my flashlight?”

“Somebody get- AAAGH!”

The very darkness around the men became a gauntlet of ethereal blades, cutting them down before they even realized what was in there with them. Their screams of agony could barely be released before their lives were ended, and the few that died last did so with abject fear gripping their hearts, pleading for help from the God they had turned their backs on. The help never came.

Once more, a seamless group assassination.

When the last body dropped, all was quiet once again. In the pitch-black basement, Tobio counted close to twenty corpses scattered here and there. But he could sense someone else inside the church. There were two other presences that hadn't followed the crowd, and were waiting upstairs. They were at least suspicious of a potential trap, it seemed.

This was fine. He could more than handle just two combatants.

Cautiously, in the event that they had their guns trained on the basement entrance, he trekked back up the stairs while hugging the wall. He stopped just at the doorway, keeping himself hidden from the light as he assessed the chapel.

His two remaining targets were standing between the front row of pews, weapons drawn but showing no signs of moving from their position. Of the two, the shorter one with white hair and red eyes looked to be about in his teens. Beside him was a much older man, his eyes wide with anger and his face covered from ear to ear with stubble.

“Yeah, see? Didn't I tell ya it was a bad idea to follow them?” the younger of the two quipped with a smile.

“So you did. Then again, this wouldn't be happening if you had just stuck to the plan and not screwed us over!” the older man spat.

The only reply was an uncaring shrug.

“Never should've brought you here,” the man sneered before looking at Tobio, who had stepped out of the doorway. “Alright, look, we had a top-tier Sacred Gear ready for picking, and we were so close to extracting it. All we needed was just a little more time.”

Tobio simply stared at him, wondering how this man thought he'd buy that lie. Even his companion looked at him with snide disbelief.

The man clicked his tongue when he got no answer. “Tch, nevermind. Go ahead, Freed, kill him.”

“Cool.”

What happened next made even Tobio pause.

Without an ounce of hesitation or mercy, the young man, 'Freed,' brought his arm straight up and pulled the trigger. Instead of aiming at Tobio, however, he had pointed the firearm at his fellow exorcist's head. The high caliber round entered the man's right temple and blasted out the left side of his skull, scattering blood, skull fragments and brain matter in a wide cone. His eyes rolled up into his head as he collapsed against the pew, dead before his body hit the ground.

A malevolent smile spread on Freed's previously smug face. Holstering his pistol, he turned back to address Tobio and let out a sigh of contentment.

“It's always so satisfying to kill a guy who's been a pain in the ass from day one. You know what I mean? So. Goddamn. Bossy!”

“Do you make it a habit of killing your colleagues while on the job?” Tobio jabbed.

Freed's smile dropped for a half second, then morphed into a grin before he threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “Heh… Hehehehe- Hahahahaha! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”

Tobio didn't see what was so funny.

“Hah, heh… C-Colleagues?! That is absolutely precious, hahahahahaha! Ah-hah, aah… oh, hell, thank you, I needed that.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “But, back on topic. Nah, it was just a perfect shot, too good to pass up. They were all expendable, just like you and me. All they really wanted was that bloodsucker's Sacred Gear, but I'm the only one who had the forethought to plan ahead in case what we got from Grigori wasn't actual reinforcements. Shows you what I was working with, doesn't it?”

“So you know who sent me?” Tobio asked while stepping down from the stage to get on even ground with his last target.

Freed moved to stand equidistant from both pews to his sides. “Well, duh. This isn't my first rodeo, pal. I was just surprised you didn't come sooner. Grigori kill squads are usually a lot faster than this. What'd you do, stop to smell the flowers?”

“And you don't care one bit that the dhampir does in fact have a Sacred Gear?”

“Fuck no, I got swindled! That son of a bitch promised me that I could kill all the shitty devils this rat's nest of a town had to offer while they worked,” Freed gestured to the corpse of the man he executed. “But once I got here and found out the whole job had gone to shit, he reneged on that promise and said the bloodsucker's Gear was more important. I only stuck around long enough for a cleanup crew to come kill the others so I could kill him without much hassle. You do not double-cross Freed Sellzen and live to talk about it. It just does not happen.”

“So, in retaliation to him, you put a death mark on your whole group by causing trouble the Grigori couldn't afford to ignore,” Tobio summarized.

“It's always worked before,” Freed answered with a remorseless smirk.

'Just how many people have died because of you?'

“I see. Well, thanks for clearing things up. But there is still the matter of you being the last one alive. Let's fix that.” Two shapeless opaque black masses shot out of Tobio's shadow and gathered into his hands. He closed his fists around both, then brought them together in front of him. The shadows in his grasp flowed outward and formed a long war scythe that looked to swallow all light and darkness around it. With practiced ease, he spun the scythe to bring it before him, holding the blade close to the ground while keeping the tip aimed at his opponent.

Not the least bit intimidated, Freed's eyes gained a predatory gleam.

“Ooh, sounds like fun. I've been bored out of my mind recently. Please don't disappoint me. I wanna clear my low-water mark.” He unhooked his light sword from his belt and ignited it, the gentle blue glow of the blade casting an eerie shadow across his face.

Both sides stood motionless at first, testing one another to see who would make the first move. The space between them grew thick with killing intent. So great was the pressure from that combined intent, the surrounding floorboards and pews began to rattle and vibrate. Tobio finally brought his shadow scythe up and, with one final reminiscent thought, shot forward.

'And thus I clothe my naked villainy with odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ, and seem a saint, when most I play the devil.'

Freed merely cackled as he met the charge head on.

---

“Maria, Lara, Christine. Find Asia and kill anyone that gets in the way.”

“Yes, Lord Diodora.” All three replied in unison. His Knight, Christine, the former exorcist, drew her sword and took point toward the apartment, with Pawns Maria on her right and Lara to her left.

Diodora shook his head in aggravation and huffed. By his side stood his Queen, Anna, and one of his two Rooks, Judith, all three of which stood several meters behind. He should've done this from the beginning instead of waste time in using the two exorcists. It was overkill to bring this many servants for a mere retrieval, but Asia was worth it, and this whole sordid affair had gone on for far too long.

While the failure of the exorcists spoke of what the human was capable of against other humans, it meant nothing against Devils. His servants would crush this fool like-

A clattering noise suddenly put everyone on alert. Christine had stopped and dropped into her defensive stance, while everyone else looked around for the source of the sound. To him, it sounded like… something was rolling across a rocky surface.

“Lord Diodora.” Judith called to his attention. She pointed to something small on the ground near to their right. Following her gaze, he saw… colored rocks?

“What is–”

And then, the world around him and his peerage exploded in white.

---

When the flashbangs burst, Connor hopped over the peak of the apaato's roof and began his attack.

With a running start, he jumped and dropped down onto one of the three leading Devils. Runic sword in hand, he used their body to cushion his landing, and stabbed downward, impaling them through the chest and killing them almost instantly.

Mystic Eyes active and adrenal runes firing at full strength, he tore the sword from its first victim and brought it to bear against the other unarmed Devil in the lead. In a long overhead swing, his weapon found flesh, slicing across their torso in a monk's robe cut from right shoulder to left hip. Organs and bones were cleanly severed, and the force behind the strike sent their body to the ground in a heap.

Two down, four to go.

He turned in time to see the sword-wielding Devil charge and go for a panicked thrust to his chest. Pivoting on his left foot, he deflected the enemy's blade and reached under his own to grab their sword arm's wrist with his left hand. He pulled them forward and delivered a right elbow strike to the face, stunning them, then brought his weapon down again. This time, severing the assailant's captured arm at the elbow.

Their agonized shriek made him notice something he'd missed for the sake of quickly reducing the enemy numbers. It was a female voice, and the cloak concealing their body parted just enough for the magus to see that they were indeed a woman. The now one-armed Devil fell backwards, clutching her arm in pain while blood continued to spew from the cleanly sliced vessels.

Connor glanced to the two corpses, then looked to the other three Devils that were recovering farther back. With the swordswoman's screaming, their attention was on her, giving him the brief moment to realize something else.

Once more, his expectations were proven dead wrong. It looked like every Devil here, besides the one he'd talked to before, was a woman, including the two he'd just killed. And fairly young, at that, based on their appearance. Although, if Devils really did live to ten thousand years like he'd been told, there was no way for him to know how old any of them actually were.

“You bastard!” Connor heard the little weasel of a male Devil yell. “What have you done?!”

Connor said nothing in rebuttal, instead choosing to toss aside the severed arm in his grip and dig out four more runestones from his pocket, then return the runic sword to his Magic Crest. In its place, he pulled the light sword from its clip on his waist, and pressed the button. The light blue blade ignited with a 'snap-hiss', highlighting his body amid the darkness. His eyes darted between his attackers, the male of whom flinched at first, but was ultimately undeterred by his new weapon.

“Tch, so you got the better of them, did you?” the man commented with mocking disdain. “It makes no difference, you'll still die tonight.”

Connor elected to remain silent, looking between the three and waiting for the first attack.

From the corner of his eyes, Connor could see the one with the severed arm starting to pick her sword up from her lost hand and join the fight again. She didn't get far with it, as Jin leaped out from Connor's shadow, clutching his jet-black sword, and swiped at her neck. The Devil's throat split open and gushed blood in a torrent onto the ground and down the front of her cloak. She dropped her weapon and clutched at her neck in a fruitless attempt to stem the bleeding, and Jin, following up his attack, dispelled his weapon and latched onto the woman's neck, pushing her down and opening up the same 'shadow pocket' Tobio had used. Both bodies vanished into the pit, which closed immediately behind them.

'Atta boy!'

The male Devil saw this, too, and it only seemed to enrage him further.

“Damn you!” he roared, raising his hands at Connor. A large magic circle manifested before him, and Connor had nowhere he could move to evade; the two remaining female Devils had quickly changed position to block his avenues of escape.

In response, Connor tossed the runestones in his left hand into the air before him in a spread. Instead of exploding in one massive burst like the flashbangs had, these stones went off like firecrackers, hanging in the air for several seconds and delivering distractive continuous blasts. The male Devil recoiled and stumbled backward a bit, losing focus on his spell.

Connor turned his attention back to the hooded woman, who chose to attack while his eyes were away. Looking at her eyes, he noticed something… off about them. He couldn't see any ill intent. There wasn't even any emotion behind them. Normally, he could tell what someone's end goal was through eye contact, but he couldn't sense that from her. She didn't even seem to care what her planned gut shot would end up doing. She was just… acting with a singular goal in mind. Like a robot.

He was about to counter her attack, but a stream of fire shot towards him at the same time. He dove and rolled away to avoid it, getting up just in time to deflect the blow coming from the hooded Devil. While managing to direct most of the force of her strike away, he could feel the power put into it. Fighting her would be difficult enough, even without the, quite literal, suppressing fire from the blonde.

As much as he wanted to, in order to even the odds further, he couldn't use Ath nGabla here. If he did, whoever wasn't targeted by its effect could go after Asia while he was locked in combat with the target. They didn't know that, but he didn't want to risk them figuring it out.

He lost track of time on just how long this game of cat and mouse played out; dodging magic bullets from the male and taking cover from the blonde's fire attacks, all while trying to keep from getting smashed to pieces by the hooded Devil. He'd stupidly let his window to end the fight quickly slip by, and he couldn't find an opening to attack or retreat! Only by making eye contact with the Devils and reading their intentions again and again did Connor manage to predict and evade, which was getting increasingly hard to do with how much they were destroying the area.

Unfortunately, the exhaustion from this and the night's earlier events were quickly catching up to him. His eyes and overclocked magic circuits were beginning to burn from the strain, and his reactions were getting slower. Even worse was that the three Devils were starting to better synchronize their attacks.

'Anytime now, Jin!' He figured the creature was watching for another good chance to attack, but the wait was killing him.

Suddenly, his foot caught on something and made him stumble. He rolled and dodged another punch from the hooded Devil, but failed to stop her as she swung past his guard and planted a follow-up fist just below his right pectoral. Connor would later compare the feeling of her punch to taking a police battering ram to the chest while lying spread eagle on the ground. Even through the adrenaline in his system and Reinforcement enhancing his body, he could feel something give out… violently. Her punch sent him flying into a nearby tree, making his head whip back from the sudden stop.

“Gaagh!” Spittle flew from his mouth and all the air in his lungs seemed to vanish. The light sword fell out of his hands and into the dirt, disengaging as it fell. Before he could get back up, a hand –closer to a vice– clamped around his neck and pinned him against the tree. Instinctively, his hands clawed and pried at the grip, to no avail.

“Keep him there! He's mine!” he heard the male demand. The hand stopped squeezing but maintained its hold nonetheless. “You insect… I'm going to enjoy flaying you ali- wooah!”

He didn't finish his threat as Jin burst out from the shadows once again and leaped onto the man's back, throwing the Devil face first into the dirt. The canine entity buried his fangs into the man's neck, eliciting a pained yell, then hopped to the side in order to get his feet planted on solid ground. From there, he began pulling and thrashing his head from side to side, causing even more damage to his victim while keeping him face-down and unable to fight back.

“AAH! AAAUGH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”

The man's now frenzied screams and flailing caused the two females to break their focus on their target, panicked worry appearing on their faces for the first time since the fight began as they looked on in shock at what was happening. The blonde snapped out of it first, rushing to her downed master's aid. The hooded Devil's grip on Connor's neck loosened slightly, giving him just enough of a chance to act. Taking advantage of the distraction, he turned his right hand toward where the light sword had fallen.

'Nauthiz!'

In the center of his palm, the rune for binding lit up as the underlying magic circuits opened the link. Similarly, another rune flashed on the pommel of the sword. In an instant, the hilt picked itself out of the dirt and flew through the air, straight into his awaiting hand. Reaching up, despite the stabbing pain he felt, he grabbed the hooded Devil's cloak, pulled her forward, and ignited the weapon directly into the side of her head, then quickly extinguished it.

Connor didn't know about painlessly, but she did die quickly.

Her body crumpled to the ground and released the grip on Connor's throat, the hole in her cranium gushing blood from both sides. He took in one gulp of air, then shakily stood to his feet again, using the tree for support. The pain in his chest didn't make it easy. It felt like jagged pieces of wood were piercing into his lungs, and it got worse with every breath he tried to take. By his estimates, multiple ribs were broken.

He heard Jin bark and looked up. He had jumped off of the male Devil and now stood in front of Connor, snarling and growling at the two Devils while the blonde began to treat her male counterpart.

She glanced to Jin, then muttered something into the man's ear urgently. His eyes widened before he looked at the sentient Sacred Gear before him, blood freely flowing down his back as he got to his feet. To the Devil, this must have been a prime opportunity to attack and finish what he started, but for some reason, he was hesitating to act.

He gave one last look to the human and sneered. “This is not over, you filth!” With that, a magic circle suddenly flared to life underneath him and his servant, and the two vanished in a flash of light, the bodies of the deceased Devils disappearing as well.

Was that it? Did he really retreat?

For a good thirty seconds, Connor didn't move, silently hoping that the Devils had well and truly left. When nothing else happened, his shoulders drooped and he leaned on the tree while his legs began to wobble and shake vigorously. Slowly, he eased himself back down until he was sitting on the ground with his back to the tree once again.

He looked at Jin, his eyes now back to normal.

“Serio-” he started to admonish the dog, but all that came out was a wheeze. He coughed to clear his throat, but that left him gasping for air. Then, the crushing pain from no less than three different sources set in at once; his eyes, magic circuits and chest cavity.

'Oh shit…'

---

Tobio ducked under a slice to his head and countered with a strike of his own, only to be blocked with a a reverse gripped light sword and avoid a kick to the side of his knee.

As the duel had carried on, the church interior was reduced to an even more ruined state than before. Pews were cut cleanly into small sections, the walls and floor were riddled with new holes and slash marks, and two of the pillars had been cut as well. He could almost hear a creaking sound coming from the roof as the distribution of the building's weight shifted dangerously again and again.

The Grigori agent had to give his opponent credit, the man's style was truly his own: Wild, yet precise; Untamed, yet disciplined. There was never a set pattern to his movements. Every few attacks from his light sword were quickly followed by a strike from an unoccupied limb, be it his free hand or feet. He would also mix things up by switching swordsmanship styles at random intervals, sometimes even during mid-swing.

It was all so random but, at the same time, so coordinated. Tobio was a skilled fighter in his own right, but even he was constantly left guessing on the next attack, and marveling at the man's seemingly limitless energy. He must have really wanted this fight. (1)

The agent attacked high and low with long swipes and forced Freed to put some distance between the two. He then stood at full height to address the deranged priest. “You know, the mere mention of your name was enough to make one of your fellow exorcists nearly soil himself. It made me curious to see why the others were so afraid of you. But then I crossed blades with you, and I realized how the stigma surrounding you was… overblown. All you are is a rabid dog, and I've wasted enough time with this.”

“Heh, what, are you saying you've been playing with me this whol- Whoa!” Freed stopped and jumped forward just before his legs and knees could be pierced from below by black spikes erupting from his own shadow.

Tobio closed the distance and delivered a long swipe, aiming for Freed's throat. The exorcist barely blocked the attack, the dark scythe's blade now locked with his light sword mere inches from his neck.

“Dick move, man! I was having fun!” he barked indignantly.

“Your amusement is not my concern.”

Tobio pressed the advantage and went on the offensive, using long and deliberate arcs to force Freed back. The Grigori agent began to push the rogue exorcist around the floor this time, using any available shadows to reach out and take a shot at him, or become a tripping hazard. It worked for a short time, but Freed quickly caught on and moved to the center of the chapel with his back to the door.

“Yeah, I guess not, but tell me… would a rabid dog do this?”

Freed slashed at the floor, tearing a large gash and sending sparks and hot splinters flying into Tobio's face. He jumped back to the chapel's rear most pew on the left hand side, exchanging his light sword for a lighter from his pocket in the process. Reaching under the pew, he pulled out a glass bottle with a rag stuffed into the neck. After igniting the rag with the lighter, he turned and threw the bottle toward the church entrance. The moment it shattered against the wall, the contents ignited and splattered across every surface around within a few meters, setting everything ablaze.

“Attempt a pyrrhic victory? Yes, it would. Are you so desperate to win?” Tobio taunted.

“I was gonna burn this place down when all was said and done anyway, so this actually works out pretty well. All you did was bump up my schedule.” As he talked, Freed walked backward until he was standing directly underneath the burning section of the church roof, the sinister grin never leaving his face. “If you wanna save the dhampir in distress, be my guest, I really don't give a shit. But if you still wanna kill me that bad, you gotta play in my court. None of that shadow bullshit, just you, me and this lovely venue. And quick tip: you may want to decide in the next, oh… ten seconds?”

Tobio glanced up, taking note of how quickly the fire was spreading across the decaying wooden structure. It wouldn't be long at all before it fell down around their ears. This was far too fast of a spread for a normal structure fire, and it made Tobio wonder if Freed had actually doused the whole church with some kind of accelerant beforehand. He could escape the collapse, and he was certain that Freed would as well, but he could sense Jin on the other side of his mental link urgently calling for him to return. That was a very rare occurrence, and it seemed unlikely to Tobio that Freed was going to let this fight end quickly.

He took two steps back, testing Freed's reaction. The Stray didn't move, even when a section of the rafters broke off and crashed right next to him, putting a hole in the floor.

'If nothing else, he's committed to the bit.'

Killing this scum would have to wait for now, he concluded. The dhampir was still his primary objective. With that in mind, he turned and ran for the basement entrance.

“I'll be in touch~” he heard Freed call out, his disturbingly playful voice carrying over the steadily growing roar of the flames.

All but leaping down the stairs, Tobio quickly but carefully gathered the unresponsive woman into his arms and hurried back up to the chapel. By that time, the entire ceiling was completely engulfed by flames. The heat was staggering, and as fire continued to spread across the floor with unnerving speed, possible routes of escape became burning pitfalls.

Freed was nowhere to be seen, not that Tobio expected him to stick around and gloat. He'd made his point: Let us all live, or we all die.

A loud creaking broke Tobio's train of thought. The roof was starting to cave in, and the whole structure was about to come down with it. There was no more time to think. With few options now remaining, he sprinted for the nearest open window, dodging a rafter as it fell, and leaped through. Flickers of flame plumed out after his body, almost as if grisly fingers were reaching out to snatch him in midair and pull him back into the pyre.

Tobio paid no heed to the sounds of the burning church as it gave way and crumbled to the ground behind him. He simply raced back to the apartment, never once looking back.

---

Connor hadn't moved from his spot against the tree. He was too busy fighting to breathe than think about or do much of anything else.

He hadn't felt pain of this scale since his magic circuits were first opened. His Reinforcement had stopped a potential impalement, but that woman's fist had still snapped his ribs like glass. It hurt to cough, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to do anything. And that was on top of the pain he felt from his eyes and the use of the adrenal runes.

'Shit, my lung must've collapsed,' he cursed mentally.

His right hand jammed into his pocket, fumbling for the biggest of the stones he took with him. He finally fished it out and ran a thumb across the carvings on its surface, then gripped it with desperate intensity, forcing magical energy into the stone.

Among the better snippets of runic magecraft that his grandfather left behind was the procedure to craft the aptly named Healing Stone Mystic Codes. By carving the Sowilo, Othala and Laguz runes in sequence onto a suitable rock and conducting a simple blood ritual, one could carry around a way to heal themselves from even dire internal injuries. After the Fallen Angel encounter, he made sure to keep at least one on hand at all times.

While the stone began its work, the pressure in his chest slowly started ebbing away, allowing him to take less stressful but still shallow breaths. Bit by bit, breathing became slightly easier. Unfortunately, he could only grit his teeth and bear with the pain as his body rearranged itself. He had to concentrate on maintaining oxygen flow in however small of increments he could manage. To do this, he clenched his jaw and took small breaths, getting just the minimum air he needed to keep from passing out.

After about sixty seconds –he supposed– of treatment, the pressure finally abated. It could have actually been longer; his sense of time was completely askew now.

He took an experimental breath, slightly deeper than earlier. When he felt no pain, he didn't hesitate to give his best imitation of a vacuum cleaner. Suddenly, all the air he'd been trying to pace came flooding in. After a few heavy inhales and exhales, his left hand felt around where he was hit. That area would definitely bruise, but his once shattered ribs were fully intact, back in their proper place, and his lung was working like normal.

The relief was indescribable.

'Thank you, Grandpa. You were a terrible man but a crack magus. I am never taking breathing for granted again.'

Connor stayed in place against the tree, taking in the night sky until he sensed a presence coming through the Bounded Field to approach him. He turned his head to see Tobio carrying a dirt and dust covered woman wearing little more than rags.

“Lochlainn?”

“I'm alright. I'm just catching my breath,” he waved off, using the tree to help push himself up.

“More unwelcome visitors?” Jin took his place by Tobio's side, giving a curious sniff of the woman.

“What was your first clue? Me or all the blood on the ground?” Back on his feet, the magus went to get a closer look at the limp figure the older man was holding. Even up close, though, it was hard to tell exactly what she looked like under all the debris caked to her face and matting her hair. “How is she?”

“A lot of superficial wounds and some old scars, but I can't get a response out of her.”

Connor hummed. While certainly effective, the Healing Stones required the user's own magical energy to activate the spell, so it only worked on the user themselves.

“Then let's see if Asia can help. Come on,” he beckoned, leading the agent and his companion up to the second floor of the apaato.

Approaching Asia's door, Connor knocked loudly twice and stepped back. Off to the side, Tobio and Jin stood by, taking cautious glances around the area.

“Asia, it's me. He's gone. ”

He heard the pitter-patter of feet coming from beyond the door before it was flung open. Dressed in her conservative nightgown and simple socks, Asia almost threw herself at Connor, wrapping her arms around his back.

Connor didn't react at first, but when he heard a sniffle and felt a dampness on his shoulder, it seemed like his heart was about to twist in his chest.

“I'm sorry for scaring you,” he apologized.

Her response was to hug him tightly. “It's okay. I… I'm just glad you're alright.”

Gingerly, he brought his hands up to return the embrace, his right hand's fingers lightly brushing her golden locks against the back of her head. Her grip only tightened further.

“I prayed for you.”

…

…

“I know. Thank you.”

He didn't know what else he could say to that.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt the moment, but…” he heard Tobio remark.

“Right.” The magus sighed and pulled away from the nun. “Asia, this is Tobio, and the dog's name is Jin. To make a long story short, Tobio's the one that led me to you. Right now, we need your help.”

Asia looked to the woman in Tobio's arms with worry. “Is it her? What happened to her?”

“We can talk about that in a moment, Ms. Argento. May we use your apartment?”

“Yes, of course.”

She hurriedly ushered them inside, casting a glance back to the dhampir. Once the door closed, Asia ran to the back room to grab a spare futon. Tobio told her to set it up in the bedroom for the time being and pay no heed to the smell of blood and dirt. This was easier said than done for the nun, but she was determined to help at any rate.

No sooner had Tobio set the woman down on the mattress, Asia went to work immediately. The glowing green orb Connor had seen before appeared in her hands once again, and she moved back and forth across the dhampir's body, stopping every couple of places to focus her power.

“Amazing, isn't it?” Tobio murmured, catching Connor's attention.“Twilight Healing: So long as the user wishes it, it can heal wounds on anybody or anything, even supernatural beings like Devils and Angels.”

Connor nodded, offhandedly feeling the contours of his rib cage again.

“Anything it can't heal?” he quietly asked.

“Fatigue and illness. No curing plagues or pandemics, and both the patient and the user have to recover from exhaustion or blood loss on their own time. I know that from our records of previous wielders.”

“What about lost limbs?”

“Only if the injury is fresh and still bleeding. If something's already healed naturally, there's no point.”

Connor looked back at Asia. That actually lined with his suspicions of this… artifact. If Twilight Healing really did create a small Bounded Field and reversed the time within, it made sense that the Gear itself would be somewhat time-sensitive. Old amputations or destroyed organs couldn't be healed since the missing piece(s) was already long gone or deteriorated beyond repair. This power could fix anything, but only so long as that 'anything' fit the right criteria.

Still, being able to heal other people's fatal wounds on the spot was pretty damn incredible.

Another couple of minutes went by before Asia stopped. The orb in her hands disappeared as she stood up and approached the two men.

"I've healed what I can, but… I've never tried to help someone who's in this state. I don't know what else to do for her. I'm sorry," she apologized solemnly.

"Don't worry about it, Ms. Argento. She's not in immediate danger anymore thanks to you."

"Thank you, but what happened to her?" she asked once again. The look in her eyes told Connor and Tobio that she wouldn't let the subject go unspoken any further.

Connor turned to Tobio and nodded. She deserved to know.

Tobio sighed and met his gray eyes to her green. "A group of rogue exorcists were conducting a ritual in the basement of that old church to extract Sacred Gears from people. She was their victim in that experiment. The ritual was meant to separate the Gear from the user's soul, and in turn, kill them. The problem was that they were messing up, and instead just causing soul-crushing pain, which might be why this woman isn't responding to anything. If they had gotten a hold of you, they would've done the exact same thing."

Asia's eyes widened in horror and her hands covered her mouth. She turned to look at Connor. "W-when you looked inside…"

"I didn't go into the basement, if that's what you're asking," he intercepted. "I didn't even know there was a basement until later, or if they were actually doing all that. And even if I did, I wasn't going down there, at least not right then. Too risky."

"It was a good thing, too. If he had, he likely would've been killed by the group that was stationed to guard the place. Trust me, he made the right decision."

Asia sighed in relief and nodded.

“I'm sorry for keeping this from you, Asia. There was so much going on that I could barely keep up.”

“It's okay… So… what do we do now?” she asked, regarding the dhampir.

“I'd like to know that as well,” Connor said to Tobio. “I can't help her, and I'm guessing neither can you.”

Tobio shook his head. “No, I need to call Azazel.” Once more, he brought his phone and thumbed through the menus. “He can get her set up with better care, plus he wants to see her in person. And you, as well.”

“Oh, joy,” the magus deadpanned. “Should I make snacks?”

“If you've got any liquor, feel free to break it out,” Tobio said with a smile. “He's a self-styled connoisseur of all things alcoholic. I think you'd like him.”

“Whatever you say. Can you at least hold off on calling him until we get the mess outside cleaned up?”

The agent paused to consider, then put his phone away. “Yeah, I suppose I can do that. I'll see you out there.” Without another word, he passed the magus and headed back out the door to start.

Connor sighed and leaned against the wall, massaging his temples and trying to stave off the headache he could feel coming.

'As if the night wasn't long enough.'

“Connor?” he heard Asia ask and looked up to meet her curious gaze.

“Yeah?”

“What is a connoisseur?”

---

Elsewhere, in an isolated region of the Underworld, a grotesque fly buzzed and zipped its way through the halls of a dimly-lit ornate palace.

Following a directive that ran deeper than basic animal instinct, the fly darted past armored guards and conservatively dressed servants along the way. Many paid nary a glance to it, if they even noticed at all. Such flies in this place were very common, considering who ruled it.

Eventually, the miniscule creature came upon a spacious and sparsely decorated throne room. There was no light to be found in this place, save for the two chandeliers dangling from above and torches along the walls. A wide red carpet led from the main doors to a raised dais, upon which stood an intimidating black and grey throne and flanked by two statues carved in the image of demons. Large obelisks lined the walls on either side, standing just tall enough to not touch the ceiling at their peaks. All of these features combined created powerful senses of authority and entrapment in equal measure.

Seated on the throne was a figure partially hidden from the lights of the chandeliers and torches. As the fly crossed the floor, the figure raised an armored left hand to present a perch for the insect. Landing with precision on the index finger, the fly then swiveled about and began buzzing its wings in code, just as it was created to do.

The lone visible eye of the hand's owner narrowed in anger upon interpreting the message.

“That fool.”

---

…

(1): In keeping with mixing up Freed's character a bit, his fighting style here is somewhat similar to Inosuke Hashibira's Beast Breathing Form from Kimetsu no Yaiba, in addition to the swordplay of Izō Okada from the Fate series. As a berserker in everything but name, I felt that it suits him.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 9: Aftermath

Connor stood at the doorway to Asia's apartment, taking in the night air and trying to maintain a calm frame of mind. Being caught in the middle, or rather, being thrown into the path of an abduction plot more convoluted than nuclear physics would do damage to anyone's mental health. Especially if one almost meets the Grim Reaper as a result.

At least Asia was safe, for now.

The nun had taken a hand towel and two bowls from her kitchen, filling one with clean water while leaving the other empty to use for pitching out dirty water after wringing the towel. She said that she wanted to try and clean up the dhampir woman's face while she would be waiting for them to come back.

Leaving her to it, Connor stepped outside to view the carnage, but had stopped at the door. In the wake of the battle with Asia's stalker, the area in front of the apaato resembled nothing of what it used to with so much debris strewn about in all directions. Chunks of pavement and dirt covered the crater-ridden street, scorch marks from the blonde Devil's fire magic dotted the sidewalk and patches of grass, and a partially-uprooted tree hung across the road at a rather precarious angle. And that wasn't even considering the puddles of blood he could see from the walkway.

Tobio was currently busying himself with repairing the road. He was kneeling down on the sidewalk with his palms flat against the ground, black magic circles glowing beneath them. Piece by piece, chunks of earth were rolling and breaking apart, only to come back together and reform in their original place in the ground. It was like watching marbles roll toward a pit and then just melt into it. Very strange.

Tobio looked up to see Connor watching him work.

"Earth magic," he described. "Really good for cleaning up a crime scene."

The magus grunted in acknowledgment and jumped the railing to join him.

With Tobio taking care of the surrounding area, Connor went look for the severed arm and the sword of the Devil Jin had killed. Sure enough, they were right where he'd seen her lose them. The arm was no longer bleeding, and the double-edged European-styled sword was more or less soaked in the life fluid now spilt on the ground.

He picked up the weapon by the pommel and applied Inguz, the rune of separation, to the hilt, guard and blade. He watched with a small bit of satisfaction as the collected blood fell off like actual water, even pulled from between the crevices. In his inspection, he noticed writing of some kind etched along the blade's fuller. He squinted to try and read it, but at that moment, Tobio walked up and peered over his shoulder.

"Adding to your collection?"

"Maybe." The magus set the weapon aside before resuming his part of the cleanup, using Sowilo to incinerate the arm and blood spots instead of contain them, thus expediting his work by a good few minutes. He didn't know for what exactly, but maybe there would be a use for the sword later. It's owner wouldn't be needing it anymore. He could figure out what the inscriptions said once he was done here.

"So," Tobio continued, "Jin tells me that you went on the offensive and attacked the Devils when they arrived. What made you think it was a good idea to fight a whole group of them by yourself?"

Connor bit his lip in irritation. He knew this discussion was coming, whether he wanted it or not.

"I never once believed it to be a good idea. I just didn't want to risk them getting any closer. If they stormed my apartment the way the exorcists did, there'd be no way I could stop them all. Home field advantage or not, my odds of surviving six on one against an unknown enemy while protecting someone were slim to none. I had no choice but to hit them first." Connor stood up again and turned to face Tobio, holding the sword loosely in his right hand as he did. "Besides, I figured Jin would help even things out. But he didn't fight as much as I thought he would."

"He doesn't know you well enough. If you were someone he's seen fight before, he might have a better idea of how best to have helped you."

"So that's why he waited until after I nearly got a hole punched in my chest?" the magus asked aggressively.

"He was waiting for you to tell him what to do, but because you didn't say anything, you left him hanging. Don't blame him for your lack of communication. I understand that you're used to working on your own, but that wasn't the case tonight. You had backup, but you have to talk for them to be effective."

Connor wanted to rebuke him, but he knew the man was right. He hadn't said a word during the entire fight, much less said anything to Jin beyond 'let's go.' After watching the dog kill that sword-wielding Devil with ease, he had just assumed that Jin would be able to do the same thing to the others once he saw an opening. If all he really had to do was give an order, then maybe it wouldn't have been such a close call.

"Look, I'll just chalk this up to everyone being outside their comfort zone. Let's just get this done and go from there."

"Sure." The less said, the better.

Tobio wrapped up his part of the work shortly thereafter and stayed outside to call his boss, allowing Connor to go back inside and check on Asia.

The nun had done what she could for the dhampir, and it was enough for Connor to get a good look.

She was young, not much older than him, and actually quite pretty. Her hair was still somewhat dirty, but Asia's attempt to clean it showed the platinum blonde locks that framed her youthful face. Her fair skin wasn't the sickly pale he would expect to see on a vampire, but perhaps that was an influence of her human parentage.

"I know it's not much, but…" Asia trailed off.

"It's okay, Asia. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

He picked up another towel and began helping with cleaning the dhampir's hair. It wasn't much longer, though, before a new presence entered the Field, prompting Connor to cease. This was unlike anything he'd felt come through before; it was massive! He stood up and motioned for Asia to stay close to him as he headed for the door to greet the new guest.

Alongside Tobio walked in an older man, seemingly about ten or so years the agent's senior. Dressed in a dark blue suit, he walked nonchalantly, but held himself with all the equanimity of someone who'd seen a lot in his years.

The man glanced around the apartment before his eyes landed on Connor, giving him an assessing stare.

"So, you're the magus, eh?" he asked.

"Yeah, and you're Tobio's boss?"

"That I am."

"Connor Lochlainn. Nice to meet you," the magus introduced himself, offering his hand for a shake somewhat stiffly.

"Azazel, Governor General of the Grigori. Likewise." The man firmly grasped and shook said hand before directing his focus to the exiled nun, and a gentle smile appeared. "And you must be Asia Argento. I've heard some good things about you, young lady. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"U-umm… It's nice to m-meet you, too, sir," the nun stammered.

Connor stepped forward slightly to place himself between Asia and Azazel, putting the focus back on him. He didn't trust this man, and didn't want him anywhere near Asia if he could help it. Sensing the tenseness in Connor's stance, the Fallen Angel held up his hands.

"Take it easy, kid. I'm not here to cause trouble, I just wanted to verify a couple things. First, let's go have a look at our patient."

"Lead the way." The magus motioned to the bedroom, letting Azazel and Tobio go on ahead while he and Asia followed. After last time, he wasn't going to show his back to a Fallen.

Stepping into the room, he saw Azazel kneeling down to examine the woman's facial features, Tobio standing to his right. After a few seconds of this, he stood up with his hands on his hips and his head hanging down slightly.

"Yep, that's her," the man said after letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Expecting someone else?" Connor asked.

"I was hoping for it, actually. A little over a month ago, a member of the Tepes royal vampire family in Romania went missing. Many of the clans there are up in arms because there's a civil war being fought over her there. To be more accurate, over her Sacred Gear."

Asia gasped while Connor looked back down at the woman. "And you're sure this is her?"

"Positive. The agents I sent to look into it were very thorough in getting her description, and she matches every detail."

"Well, that's just spectacular. And nobody has a clue how a bunch of Strays got her?"

Azazel shook his head. "Not one. The answer to that will have to wait until she comes to."

"But why?" Asia asked. "Why are people fighting over her?"

The older man turned to look the girl in the eye. "Because, Ms. Argento, she possesses the Sephiroth Graal, one of the most powerful Sacred Gears known to exist, or Longinus Gears."

"Longinus?" Connor questioned, "As in the Roman legionnaire whose spear pierced the side of Jesus? And there's more than one?"

"Of course. Tobio's got one of them, too. Those Gears are the top thirteen among the… hell, I don't even know how many," Azazel explained with a growing smile. "I've spent centuries studying Sacred Gears, and even I haven't found all there is to find. And yes, it's the very same man." He paused to let the information sink in, studying the young magus' facial movements as he looked back to the dhampir. "You know, you're taking all of this rather well."

"I'm fighting off a headache right now, so you'll pardon me for not quite having a proper grasp of the 'power scale' here. I've learned more about this Sacred Gear crap in the last two weeks than I have in the previous ten years. It's a lot to take in."

"But you did learn something from it, didn't you?" The smirk on the man's face irritated Connor for some reason. It just made him want to punch the guy.

"Yeah, I learned that I'm glad I don't have a Gear. Way too much trouble." If it meant getting hunted every day from all sides for something that you barely understood until you were under someone's heel, then having a power like that simply wasn't worth it.

Azazel chuckled. "Fair enough. But, answer me this: What would you do to get your hands on the Holy Grail?"

Connor stared at him blankly, not understanding what the Holy Grail had to do with any of this. Once he realized what Azazel was alluding to, however, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. The moment they did, the Fallen Angel started laughing, having finally gotten the reaction he was looking for. Tobio, off to the side, silently watched the interaction unfold with his own smile.

"You mean to tell me that this woman has the actual Holy Grail bonded with her soul? As a Sacred Gear? What kind of… cosmic prank is this?"

"The Sacred Gear system is just one of God's many cosmic pranks, kid, right up there with the aardvark and the platypus. It's one big lottery; no way to know who gets one until they actually got it. That's just how it was designed. Even someone with Devil blood could be born with one, as long as there's human blood in them, too."

"I- whoa, hold on, that seems wildly contradictory."

"It is, but one such person exists, and he works for the Grigori."

…

…

Upon seeing that Connor looked ready to bang his head against the wall, Azazel's insufferable laugh began again with greater intensity.

"BUHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Sorry, sorry. That was too much at once, wasn't it? My bad," he apologized, despite not appearing sorry at all.

The magus lifted his head to glare at the man. "Glad I could brighten up your night, but, moving on, there's still one piece of business we haven't discussed."

"Yeah, that's right. Tobio told me about that. Said that you got into quite the scrap earlier. Scared off a high-class Devil and his servants. I can't say I'm too surprised, given what you did to Dohnaseek, but still, fighting a whole group by yourself is pretty ballsy. Stupid, but ballsy."

"I know, I know." He really didn't want to have that conversation again tonight. He looked to Tobio, who nodded, then back to Azazel. "Well, big whoop, anyway. The guy's still alive, so he'll come back for Asia."

"Maybe, but that won't happen for a while, I think. You dealt him a pretty hard blow tonight," Azazel began to explain while crossing his arms. "He's lost a sizable number of servants, he's been wounded, and there's no war going on to conveniently excuse any of it. Other Devils are going to ask questions, and he's going to have to answer them. If he lies and claims that they were Strays, that would imply that he has very little control over his own peerage, which will affect his credibility and standing with the upper-class, if not get his rights to a peerage stripped completely. Whatever excuse he comes up with won't convince everyone, especially the Satans, so people will be watching him a lot more closely from then on."

"And if he chooses to tell the truth, he'll all but condemn himself to crimes including, but not limited to, trespassing, attempted kidnapping and attempted murder," Tobio added. "The only other option he has would be to go into hiding, but that's more of a short term solution, and one that won't end well for him."

"I'm pretty sure that Devil law doesn't really care about the lives of humans," Connor pointed out. "The only charge that would stick would be the trespassing, since you need the approval of the local Governors to even be here, from what I'm told."

'Not to mention Rias herself would be under investigation for her involvement with Hyōdō. Unless reviving the unwilling dead isn't a big no-no for those people.'

"Then use that to your advantage," Azazel advised. "As someone with no official allegiance, you've got some leeway to play both sides of the board, if you're smart about it. So go ahead and do what you will with the connections you've made leading up to this. I'm really curious to see what happens, and as long as what you do doesn't come around to threaten the Grigori, I'll keep my people out of your hair."

Connor narrowed his eyes at Azazel, not trusting the look he was giving him. "What's your angle? What do you get out of this?"

"Me? Oh, I've already got quite a bit. No need to worry about me if I just plan to watch this play out, right?"

The more and more this man talked, the more Connor was convinced of a very disturbing possibility: That being, Azazel had plotted everything leading up to this point from the moment Connor got involved. Given that the man had set up for Tobio to delegate Asia to him, knowing her circumstances, and had left her fate in his hands, the magus was inclined to believe that he was basically enlisted in order to draw out Asia's stalker and expose the little freak. While that was highly unlikely, criminal masterminds in fiction were known to use unconventional means to achieve their ends.

God help the world if James Moriarty was a real person and met this guy over drinks.

The only factor that seemed unaccounted for in this entire fiasco was the dhampir showing up in Stray Exorcist hands, given the drastic change in Tobio's orders. Even then, the Governor General turned it into a win, since he now had a high-value bargaining chip and full access to the Sacred Gear extraction ritual if he felt the need to use it.

"I suppose… Well, thanks for the advice, Lord Azazel, but I'm fresh out of luck. The leader took the bodies of his dead servants when he retreated, and… wait…" Connor stopped as he suddenly remembered something, and turned to face the Cadre's operative. "Hey, Tobio. Jin finished off one of the Devils and pulled the body into that shadow pocket of yours. Is it still there?"

"It should be. Nothing else can access that area but myself and Jin. Hold on…" Tobio turned to the side and reached his hand out, opening up a black portal. He sifted through it, absently mumbling to himself in his search.

While they waited, Connor advised for Asia to head into the living room and wait for them to finish talking. She hesitated at first, but relented after Jin walked up to and leaned against her leg. The sentient Sacred Gear then gently nudged the confused nun out the door, much to the amusement of Azazel.

Eventually, Tobio leaned out from the pocket, dragging something out with him.

"Is this yours?" he asked before letting it fall to the floor.

Before them lie a young woman with dark brown hair and abnormally pale skin, of which was a result of death by exsanguination. She wore a white and blue dress that bore slits along the sides to allow for freedom of movement, and a blue corset of sorts that attached to blue sleeves on her arms and a golden neck loop.

Her right arm was missing below the elbow, cleanly severed at the joint, and the large gash on her neck showed how violently Jin had struck. She had to have bled out within seconds. Her left hand and the majority of her dress were covered in her own dried blood.

'Perfect!'

"Yes, it is. Thanks for holding onto it."

"You… you want it?" Tobio asked slowly.

"Yeah. If nothing else, this'll be my proof that I acted in self-defense."

"Damn, kid. You went to work on her, didn't you?" Azazel said to Connor, who just shrugged.

"Heat of the moment, couldn't be helped."

"Well, if there's nothing else that needs discussing," Azazel concluded, gathering up the dhampir, "we'll just take this young lady back to home base and see what we can do to help her."

"You do that."

The three men exited the bedroom, happening upon the sight of Asia sitting on the living room couch and stroking Jin's mane. Her contagious smile was in full bloom, and the canine was very much enjoying her lavishing hand, if the way he was leaning against her legs with his eyes closed was any clue.

Tobio gave a light whistle, snapping Jin out of his daze. He licked Asia's hand, eliciting a giggle from her, before standing up and returning to Tobio's side.

"Let me know how it goes," Connor bid his farewell to the two men.

"Sure thing. Oh, and, by the way, kid." Azazel paused at the door, making sure he had the magus' attention. "You're still on the naughty list. Later."

He didn't even give Connor a chance to reply, vanishing in a flurry of black feathers.

"See you on Sunday," Tobio reminded, walking toward the stairway, Jin in tow. "We'll talk about your bonus then."

Just like that, he, too, left without another word.

'Figures I wouldn't be let off that easy,' Connor thought bitterly to himself.

"Um… naughty list?"

"Don't worry about it, Asia."

With all other business taken care of, Connor bid Asia good night and returned to his apartment, taking the corpse and the sword with him. He disengaged the Nauthiz runes on his door to let it fall against the furniture propping it up and grant himself passage. Once inside, he reapplied the runes and deposited the Devil's body in the living room, then went about cleaning himself of the blood and detritus that dotted his own form.

One long, hot shower later, he plopped himself into one of the dining room chairs. Now clean and calm, he decided to take another look at the words inscribed on the deceased Devil's weapon.

These things were even more bizarre than the ones on Jin's saber. In some places, he could actually recognize a few letters, while others looked like they were more suited for an occult textbook. Out of curiosity, he pulled out his phone and took a picture of the words, then sent the image to the default search engine.

Most magi hated modern technology out of sheer principle, as did Connor, to an extent –he despised wireless networking with a fiery passion– but damn if the Internet was a good instant dictionary when it was needed.

Unfortunately, even the World Wide Web didn't bring up any solid answers, just a bunch of gibberish based on what some of the characters resembled. Greek, Hebrew, Latin, among other languages that he wasn't well-versed in. The only correlation between the suggestions was that they all centered around the Mediterranean Sea at one point in time. This was either a long-dead ancestral language, or something exclusive to Devils.

'I can't read it, but maybe someone else can.'

With his own knowledge a dead end, another perspective was needed. He cycled through his contact list, looking for one specific person, only to discover a very important oversight.

He forgot to get her phone number earlier that morning.

'Am I stupid, or am I stupid?' he chastised himself, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Connor had no plans of spending all night with a body in his apartment, but he had no way of contacting the one proper authority figure for this matter.

Except…

Standing up, he walked into his bedroom and dug through the stack of papers to the left of his futon. Underneath all the notes and homework that was due next week, he found a single piece of parchment paper. Written in deep blue were the kanji that roughly translated to: "We'll make your wish come true!"

This wasn't what he'd intended to use it for, but this was the hand he was dealt.

He grunted and set the flyer in the middle of the room.

"Sona Sitri, we need to talk."

---

In the Student Council office, Sona and Tsubaki were going over the last of the pending documents for the budgets of this year's summer festivities when the notification sigil on Sona's desk began to blink. Someone was calling for a Devil.

Ordinarily, she would assign it to one of her available servants, since she rarely went on contract calls anymore, but this time was different. This one was calling for her specifically, as she could feel it pulling on her like a magnet.

That hadn't happened in a while.

"I'll take this one, Tsubaki. Keep working, I'll be right back."

"Of course," her Queen replied.

Sona stood up and adjusted her uniform, ensuring there were no wrinkles to be found from sitting at her desk for more than two hours. She had to look presentable to the client, after all, plus she needed to stretch her legs. Stepping into the corner of the room used for teleportation, she invoked the magic circle's power and disappeared from the Council Room.

Reappearing in the center of the circle from the flyer, she gave her practiced introduction.

"Your strong desire has called me forth, and–" she trailed off as she noted her surroundings. She was indoors and the air was slightly cooler than that of evening time in early May. When her nose caught the faint scent of blood, and her eyes landed on a tired-looking Connor leaning against a wall, she blinked. "Mr. Lochlainn?"

"Evening," Connor greeted with a wave then glanced down at her body. "You're still in uniform?"

"Yes, I'm still at the office. Are you alright? What's going on?"

"It's better if I show you. In here," he motioned for her to follow as he pushed off the wall and walked out of the room.

While no small amount of confusion, she did so. That confusion turned to shock when she passed the doorway to view Connor standing over a corpse in the main living area. In addition, she took note of the sword in his hands.

"What is this?!" she exclaimed.

"She's Exhibit A, and this is Exhibit B."

Sona's gaze hardened at the magus, all but demanding an explanation.

"It's a long story, and I'm running on fumes right now, but suffice to say: What we talked about earlier this morning came true. That stalker showed up looking for Asia, and he brought some backup with him."

"And this is…"

"One of his lackeys that didn't get away."

Sona took a calming breath, trying to keep her racing mind from bombarding the magus with questions. She approached the body and activated a diagnostic spell, finding, to her alarm, that the woman was a Devil with an intact Knight Piece.

"Mr. Lochlainn, when I said that I required proof, I did not believe that this was what you would procure. And why did you summon me with a flyer, anyway? You could have just called me."

"I would have, but I don't have your number. Totally slipped my mind to get it this morning. As for this? I don't see why you're complaining. You said it yourself: Any Devil that comes to Kuoh without permission is trespassing, and unless she got the go-ahead from you or Rias, she and the others shouldn't have been here, much less attack me. I just acted in self-defense. This is the only one whose body the master didn't retrieve when he ran home."

As he talked, he handed her the weapon of the deceased Knight. She studied it for a moment, recognizing the words etched onto the blade as the modern written language used in the Underworld.

"What about this master? Did you find out anything about him?"

"I didn't get his name, but I talked to him right before it all happened. Short guy, dark green hair, yellow eyes, kind of scrawny?"

Her hand holding the sword's grip tensed, "I see… I will have to do some research, but for now, we should take care of this."

She did in fact recognize someone who fit that description, and that deeply concerned her. This had to be dealt with quickly.

Composing herself, she addressed Connor, looking slightly up at him.

"Just this once, Mr. Lochlainn, I will waive the summoning cost for that contract. However, you and I will have our chess game tomorrow as recompense, and I will not tolerate any procrastination. Come to my office tomorrow morning at 7:00. We need to go over everything that happened here, after you've had some rest. If the need arises, I'll have you excused from morning classes."

"I'd appreciate that," he gave a tired nod, punctuating his reply with a yawn.

Sona nodded as well, then knelt over the Devil's body, invoking a spell that would prevent any further decay of both the corpse and the Evil Piece. If the trespassing master was who she now suspected, the intact Piece would be the most damning evidence to be used against him. She then opened a transportation circle directly below the body, sending it to a secure location until it was needed.

"Have a good night, Mr. Lochlainn," Sona bade a curt farewell before disappearing exactly the way she came, sword still clutched in her hand.

Arriving back at the Student Council office, she looked over at her Queen, who had looked up upon noticing Sona come back much sooner than expected. And with a weapon.

"Kaichō? Is something wrong?"

"Quite possibly, Tsubaki. Tomorrow morning's schedule has changed, I have a very pressing matter to attend to at 7."

---

The next morning, Sona had dismissed the rest of the Student Council in preparation for Connor's arrival, leaving only Tsubaki with her. The Sitri heiress was seated at her desk and filing the paperwork she'd left behind earlier, to pass the time.

Sona wanted to make sure that whatever the magus had to say would stay in the office. She had already explained the situation to Tsubaki, her Queen having sworn herself into secrecy. She could have had the others do the same, but it was much simpler this way, and she had no desire to deal with constant interruptions while Connor was talking.

A knock on the door alerted the two.

"Come in," she beckoned as she stood up.

The door opened to reveal Connor, looking much more refreshed that what she saw last night.

"Good morning, Mr. Lochlainn. Are you feeling alright?"

"Morning, Sona, Tsubaki. Yeah, I'm better now." He sounded better, too.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've asked Tsubaki to takes notes as you tell me of the events that occurred at your apartment. Meanwhile, you and I can focus on the game." Sona took a seat at the chess table and motioned for him to do the same, while Tsubaki retrieved a notepad and pen from her desk.

"Just the model of efficiency, aren't you?" he quipped.

"Indeed I am," she replied easily, "but before we begin, I must ask this, Mr. Lochlainn: Are you aware of what happened elsewhere last night in Kuoh?"

"You mean the church burning down?" he asked as he sat down in the opposite chair. Sona confirmed his question with a nod. "Yeah, I saw the smoke and heard the fire trucks, but I didn't know what happened until today. I was… pretty well tied up with other things. I did hear some rumors on the way here, though. Something about an arsonist?"

"We've left the official investigation to the local fire department," Tsubaki said, "as it appears that evidence on the scene points to an intentional burn using household chemicals as accelerants. The church had collapsed before first responders even arrived."

"Wow, really? Went up like a giant box of matches, then."

"So it seems. But, if you don't know, then there's nothing more to be said about it." She sat up in her chair regally. "Now then, as challenger, you make the first move."

"Yes, ma'am."

White pawn to F3.

Sona's brow furrowed as she made her starting move.

Black pawn to E6.

The magus eyed the board with a look of concentration for a few moments before his hand went to the pawn in column G.

Her brow scrunched even further in confusion at this. If he moved that piece forward two squares, he'd set himself up for a Fool's Mate, the easiest and most humiliating way to lose in chess. Unbeknownst to her, Tsubaki had much the same reaction. (1)

'Surely, he's not going to-'

White pawn to G3.

"Did you think I would do it?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Sona blinked, then cleared her throat and made her next move, slightly annoyed in her response. "Do you always start with a fake out?"

Black pawn to C6.

"Only if I've never played against someone before. It only ever works once, and their first move tells me whether they're looking to win or they're just killing time."

White pawn to C4.

"Your move, Kaichō."

Looking down at the board, Sona observed that he was now moving to take the center using two pawns to start with another two as backup while holding the others back to likely move as a second wave.

The Sitri heiress allowed a little smile that belied her competitive excitement. It was always fun for her to play against someone new, and she had a feeling that she was going to enjoy this game.

While the two made their front lines moves and the pawns started to battle for control of the center, Connor began his testimony of the night's events. Starting from the moment he left school, then meeting the rogue Devil outside his apartment, and preparing himself for an attack afterward. In the course of that battle, he drew them away from the apaato and cut down three before getting overwhelmed and put into a corner. Through a stroke of luck, he caught them off guard and killed a fourth, forcing them to retreat.

Sona's attention to his story piqued when he described the nun using a Sacred Gear in order to completely heal the wounds he'd suffered in a matter of seconds.

Tsubaki had chosen that moment to comment. "That was foolish of you, Mr. Lochlainn. Had any of those Devils been a different Piece than what they were, and had been expecting you, you could very easily have been killed."

"I'm well aware, and I've apologized enough for my actions to Asia," he said with conviction. "I did what I had to."

"On the subject of Ms. Argento, you failed to mention that she had such a remarkable power," Sona pointed out, moving a knight to protect her queen.

"I did, because I wasn't sure how any of you would react to news of a Sacred Gear like hers." He moved a pawn further toward her side, just outside of her knight's reach. "I'm still not, in a way, which is why I don't plan to say anything about it to Rias."

Sona looked up. "Why? What do you mean?"

"You already know that I was there two weeks ago to fight the Fallen Angels, right?" She nodded. "Well, I was also there to watch Issei get murdered with my own eyes. Once the Fallen ran after I finished the fight, I went looking for Issei, but his body was gone. But here's where it gets interesting. That flyer I called you with last night? Reya gave it to me on the Friday before all that happened. I got another one from some girl in a bat-themed maid outfit just a short while before the murder, one that had a different diagram than yours, so I know for a fact she's not with you."

Sona's eyes widened slightly when she recognized the woman in question.

'Rias' familiar…'

"Do you see where I'm going with this?" he continued. "I figured somebody came along and conscripted his corpse while no one was looking in order to get his Sacred Gear. So imagine my surprise when I see him at school the very next day like nothing happened. And on top of that, learn that he's been brought into the ORC, a group that he had no connection with prior to then."

Connor then sat up straight and crossed his arms. "Now, connect the dots and tell me, as an outsider to Devil customs, that I'm wrong and that Rias didn't arrange to benefit from Issei's murder. If that can't be done, then please explain why informing her about Asia's Gear would be a good idea in any way."

He was issuing a challenge, Sona observed, and now she understood why Connor seemed so much more guarded around Rias. The magus saw her as a threat, and a looming one in the nun's case. To him, she was a problem that he couldn't resolve by his own measures without causing more problems for himself in the future. He was more right than he realized; if not for Rias' peerage retaliating should he try, then her older brother would.

Having come to the conclusion that he did based solely on what he had observed, Sona couldn't really fault him for being careful. Even so, it would be better for both parties if she could clear any misconceptions between them.

"I will not deny the logic of your argument, but I can assure you that Rias is not as conniving as you imply. She spoke with me shortly after that night and explained herself and the reasons for her decisions. I disagreed with her methods and made my opinion known to her, and since then, she has taken full responsibility for her part in Hyōdō's death and reincarnation. She would not forcefully reincarnate someone if they did not wish for it."

"Which is to say that he actually wished for that?"

"In all likelihood, he was not that specific, and just wanted to continue living," Sona speculated. "Even simple desires like that are enough to qualify as wishes, per the contract. In cases like Hyōdō's, however, reincarnation as a Devil is the only way within our power for that to occur."

Connor looked down at the board for a while before looking back up to the Sitri heiress.

"I want to believe you, Sona, but this is one of those things that I have to see for myself in order to believe. Asia's life was ruined by one manipulative Devil already, she doesn't need it to happen again. To that end, I don't want Asia meeting Rias unless I'm there with her."

"You cast a great deal of suspicion on Rias, but not so with me," Sona observed. "What makes you think that I won't try to manipulate Ms. Argento? I am a Devil, after all."

"I know you won't, because you don't like to twist peoples' arms, whether they're under your authority or not. You'll do it if push comes to shove, but you prefer to let people handle themselves with dignity. I learned that from asking you one specific question three days ago. Ring any bells?"

Taken aback by the confidence in which he laid out his assessment, Sona looked down absently at the board, trying to remember what question out of everything he asked that-

–––––

"Is that an order from Souna Shitori, the Student Council President, or a demand from Sona Sitri, the next in line to the Sitri household?"

"Neither. It's a request."

"That's a good answer."

–––––

She blinked, and the left corner of her lips perked upward slightly as she realized what he meant: That meeting was a test of his character to her, but the inverse was also true.

And with her response, she had won his respect.

"I see… Very well. I'll inform Rias of your conditions, but I think we've digressed from the original point of this meeting."

"It seems that way. Sorry for going off on a tangent there."

"It's alright. Let's just get back to the game."

"Right, you still have to destroy me."

The two exchanged moves once again and Connor continued to relay the events of the night before. He explained that the body he'd held on to was the only one caught within a Bounded Field, as he called it, set up around his apartment building. The Field had been modified to interfere with forms of magic other than his own magecraft, which was why the body hadn't been taken along with the others when their master retreated; the link had been blocked. Once the danger was passed, he made sure that Asia was secure and repaired the area before calling for Sona via the contract flyer.

"Hold on," Sona interjected, "You said that your Field blocks other magic. Then, how did you contact me with the flyer?"

Connor's jaw tightened for a brief moment. "I manipulated the Field to shut down the interference function while keeping the rest of it still running."

White rook to H4, taking black pawn.

Sona hummed and nodded, masking her suspicion. Something about that response made it seem like he was holding something back.

"What you've achieved is quite remarkable, Mr. Lochlainn, to say nothing of having survived the encounter," she commented innocuously.

Black queen to E5, taking white knight.

"Please, call me Connor. And thank you. Doesn't mean I'd like to go through it all again, though."

White bishop to C3.

"I would be concerned if you did."

Black bishop to C5.

Another few moves later, the game was well and decided. He put up a fight, lasting more than forty minutes in total and surprising her on a couple of moves. But in the end, he was trapped between Sona's five remaining pieces, with his own queen and last bishop unable to fend off an attack from her bishop or knight pieces without exposing his king. Her last move had cut off any escape.

"Checkmate."

Connor leaned back in the chair, nodding at the results.

"Yep, I kinda figured," he remarked, giving the board a droll glare. He glanced up again, only to be met with a smirking Sona. "From that look, having chewed me up and spat me out, I take it this battle of wits was satisfactory?"

"There was room for improvement, but overall, it was. I wouldn't mind a rematch in the future."

"I'm sure. Anyway, I should get going, if we're done for now."

"We are. Stay safe, Mr. Connor."

Connor stood up and bowed to Sona, then Tsubaki, and bowed upon stepping through the room's doorway. Neither Devil spoke for a short time after the door closed behind the magus.

Tsubaki finally broke the silence as she looked down at a contemplative Sona.

"What do you think, Kaichō?"

Sona shook her head. "I'm not sure."

Once again, Connor was leaving out details, but trying to pry them out of him would be ill-advised. With how reticent he was, he might retract what small amount of trust he'd placed in her. He had come to her with the evidence in the first place because he wanted her to cover for him. He must have believed that she could help keep any allies that this perpetrator might have from trying to silence him. A very presumptuous notion, but…

Sona stood up and began sorting the pieces on the chess board, rearranging them into their proper positions.

It wasn't a baseless notion, either. At the rate events were progressing, he would become a target before he could do anything by himself to stop it. While it was a shame that he had no intentions of becoming a Devil, that did not mean she would simply leave him to the wolves. She, like several members of her peerage, had come to enjoy his company.

When she looked at it from the standpoint of what Connor might have prevented, it was only fair that she, as Governor, at least attempt to protect the anonymity of an upstanding denizen of Kuoh. He did her a service, so she would do the same for him.

That, however, required the help of a certain… someone.

Sona glanced over to her Queen with a very sullen expression.

"Tsubaki."

"Yes?"

"Hand me your notes, and hang up… that sign."

Tsubaki looked at her King in surprise, as if asking whether or not she was really going to do that. Sona nodded, albeit very apprehensively. With only a brief pause, she did as instructed, taking a particular sign out of a drawer along the side wall and swapping out the 'Meeting in progress. Do not disturb.' sign with it in the office door's sign holder.

Printed in both English and Kanji were the words, 'Do not disturb. For any reason.'

"Shall I adjourn myself, Kaichō?" the Vice-President asked, keeping the door open.

"Yes, you may. Thank you."

Tsubaki bowed and exited the Council's office, leaving Sona alone to think her next move through.

---

Guided by nothing but a few hanging torches and his own memory, a restless and infuriated Diodora stomped through the halls of his lord's exorbitant castle.

'Damn that human!' he ranted inwardly. 'I knew I should've struck him down right then and there! This is not the way it was supposed to happen…'

Not only was his opportunity to retrieve Asia foiled twice over, four of his servants were now dead. Four! Gone forever! And he was mauled by some Satan-be-damned mongrel! Canis Lykaon, if what Anna told him held any truth, which didn't make sense at all. That Longinus was reportedly in the possession of a different human in the Grigori's employ, so why in all the circles of Hell was it there helping that human?! Was he with the Grigori, too?

Diodora rolled his shoulders and reached up with his left hand to feel the marks left behind by the mongrel's fangs. His fingers lightly traced the lumps of scar tissue that stood in place of once smooth skin.

It had taken Anna and his two Bishops several hours to heal the damage done to his neck and back, and even then, the wounds couldn't heal completely. No doubt, he now bore scars even more horrendous than the one on his chest.

If only that was his sole problem.

Thanks to Zephyrdor's blunder, and the subsequent increase in surveillance around all currents heirs of the major Houses, there were already more eyes on him than he would've liked. Security detail was now almost mandatory for anyone venturing outside of their clans' territory, which meant that he had needed, in the past, to attend to his business and be back before people were sent to find him. This made his task for his true lord much more difficult, and even more so with his personal activities.

In his frustrated drive to acquire Asia, he'd been gone for almost a week. Far beyond the acceptable threshold of three days for House heirs.

There was no way that he could keep this quiet. Influential and powerful though he may be, even if he tried to cry 'Exorcist!' and claim self-defense, he couldn't possibly hope to dodge public scrutiny from the sudden loss of so many servants. It would raise questions of why he was fighting exorcists to begin with, especially after the meetings earlier in the week. If the remaining Devil houses were to pour their resources into investigating his whereabouts, it might uncover his dealings with the Old Satans and their benefactors. Furthermore, since Christine's body hadn't come back with them when they escaped and he could no longer detect it, there was now a physical trail leading right to him.

He had no other choice but to abandon House Astaroth for the time being. His absence would undoubtedly leave his 'family' flopping around like fish out of water, but he didn't care. Astaroth and every other current house would be ousted by the Old Satans soon, anyway. The Underworld's true rulers would take back what was theirs, while he would take back his place and smile at having stayed on the winning side.

He could settle the score with that human later. For now, a respite was needed.

Just as well, he'd received a summons from his lord a short while ago. He hadn't answered until his back was treated enough to be properly dressed and concealed.

Arriving at the main throne room, Diodora calmly walked to the center and bowed, though not enough to draw attention to his new wounds.

Sitting on the throne before him with their head propped on one gloved fist was a man wearing form-fitting black armor and a matching cape. Long brown hair reaching down past his shoulders partially concealed a matured and angular face, and his lone visible dark green eye stared down at Diodora in utter contempt.

Shalba Beelzebub, the last living descendant of the true Great Devil Beelzebub. A man seemingly without conscience who ruled by violence and fear, and was a perfect example of what the Satans should be, of what all Devils should be. Cunning and charismatic, next to Creuserey Asmodeus, he was the most vocal among the Old Satans about retaking their place in the Underworld. He was the one that had convinced Diodora of the New Satans' weakness, and brought him into the fold along with several other Devils who now acted as his personal spies.

There was, however, one particular issue with Shalba that Diodora wished wasn't so. The man demanded utmost loyalty and hated misinformation by those of a lesser station than him. He had killed servants and soldiers for even minor offenses in the past, which made Diodora always feel like he walking on eggshells around him. Especially now…

"Lord Beelzebub, King of Flies, my sincerest apologies for the abruptness of this audience, but-"

"Shut up," a smooth, piercing baritone interrupted him.

Diodora lifted his head. "My lord?"

"There is nothing abrupt about this, Diodora. I summoned you, and it was not just to hear your empty prattle," Shalba said with barely contained annoyance. "I want to know what you've been doing lately."

"Of course. Apologies, my lord. Something of late came up that required my attention."

"Oh? Why, then, did you not inform me of such a development requiring you to leave your station?"

"I… I did not believe that it would be worth your time to listen, my lord. It was a trivial matter, really. I simply needed to-"

"What you need to do is explain yourself, Diodora," Shalba interrupted again. "Why is it that when your orders were to maintain your position and await our next instructions, my network of spies finds you conspicuously absent? Do my orders, does my authority, mean so little to you?"

"N-No!" Diodora objected. "Of course not, my lord! I-"

"There is little that escapes my notice in the Underworld, Diodora, and it has come to my attention that the heir of House Astaroth has been missing from his estate for the last few days. All attempts at contact have been unsuccessful, to the point that his brother among the 'Four Satans' is beginning to worry. Then, just as mysteriously, his servants disappear for a whole two days. All of House Astaroth is in an uproar. Having only just come to terms with the 'unexpected' death of the heir to Glasya-Labolas, people are beginning to suspect foul play."

Diodora started to sweat. This was not going well. If he could just get-

A large fly suddenly buzzed past Diodora's ear, making him flinch, while the fly swiftly landed on his hand. The insect then scuttled in place, turning as if to face the Astaroth heir and stare up at him with its soulless compound eyes.

"And furthermore, there are now fewer flowers in the garden that you've so carefully cultivated over the years, are there not?"

A chill ran down his spine. "You… You've been watching me…"

"Of course I have, you fool! I do not blindly trust you to do your job, nor have I ever trusted your motives for joining us. I'm always on the lookout for loose ends, especially when agendas other than my own are in play. So, will you explain yourself, or must I extract the answers from you, painfully?"

Diodora's plan was falling apart right in front of him. He had hoped to skirt the real reason for the issue, but Shalba didn't even let him get a word in. Even worse, because of the flies, Shalba already knew about the absence of both him and his servants, effectively cornering him.

There was no escape. He was careless; he'd been caught before he even realized it.

Shalba's grip on the armrests of his throne gradually tightened as Diodora told the truth about his actions with great reluctance, finally crushing them to splinters once he stopped speaking. The Old Satan descendant stood up slowly and advanced toward the Astaroth heir with malice in every step. Demonic energy rolled off his body in wave after wave, crashing against the walls of the chamber and causing the obelisks to vibrate and resonate with one another, creating a horrible buzzing sound. One could only liken the intensity of their climactic cacophony to the horde of flies that descended upon ancient Egypt as one of the ten great biblical plagues.

"Let me get this straight: While you were off gallivanting on another one of your 'personal errands' to the human world, a human boy bested both you and your peerage in battle, inside of territory held by the siblings of those impostor Satans? And on top of all that, you willingly disobeyed my command and abandoned your post to pursue this fetid fantasy of yours?!" Even amidst the noise, Shalba's voice could be heard clearly. His tone started evenly, then rose to volcanic levels with every point he reaffirmed. As a final note, his hand ripped away the collar of Diodora's coat, exposing the new scars.

Whatever Diodora might have said in his defense died in his throat. The pressure he felt from Shalba's killing intent made Diodora drop to his knees and the sweat running down his face seem as cold as ice. With considerable effort, he tilted his head up, and was met with the most vehement glare he had ever seen on the man's face.

"You incompetent WORM!" Shalba exploded, the very ground beneath them rumbling from his bellow. "Do you realize what you've done?! Your flight of fancy has sabotaged us! You've just cost us valuable inside information and the ability to influence the current regime in our favor. Did you think that fool Zephyrdor can handle that on his own?! You were there to ensure that he didn't fall out of line! We have not suffered the indignities that we have at the hands of those impostor Satans, just so a fool like you could throw all of our work away! Stand up, you wretch!"

Diodora did as ordered, not daring to speak again. One more word could spell his death.

"I should kill you for this. Lucifer knows that I want to…" He paused as his eyes gained a calculating gleam and the buzzing noise gradually lessened and faded away. "But I won't. Not yet. In a bizarre twist of fate, I may still have some small use for you." As he spoke, a magic circle bearing the House sigil of Beelzebub appeared on the floor to his right. From within arose a metal and glass canister, seated on an ornate pedestal and filled with a purple viscous fluid. "So, instead of killing you, I'll leave this as a lasting memento to your imbecility!"

Shalba suddenly thrust his right hand into Diodora's chest, shattering the ribs protecting his heart and lungs like twigs. A soundless scream escaped Diodora's lips; never in his life did he experience pain such as this. He could feel the hand of the true Beelzebub open up and grasp something in his chest, then tear it out ruthlessly, further amplifying his agony.

Just as quickly, the Old Satan's left hand planted itself in the void left behind by his right hand. Only this time, Diodora could feel something being deposited instead of ripped out. Shalba then withdrew his left hand and applied a rapid healing spell to the gaping wound. Within seconds, the hole in Diodora's chest was closed and the ribs realigned and repaired, though not without leaving another ugly scar alongside the one he'd inflicted to himself.

Diodora fell to his hands and knees again, coughing and gasping to empty his mouth that had been filling with blood. He grabbed his chest, trying to feel what it was Shalba had done. To his shock, he couldn't feel his heart beating. It was as if there was nothing there. He looked up to see Shalba dropping the object in his right hand into the canister, and his eyes widened in horror upon seeing that the object was, in fact, his own still beating heart!

"Hmph, seems to be functioning properly."

"Wh- What did you do?!" he tried to scream through the blood in his mouth, glaring at Shalba who had finished cleaning his hands with magic.

"I replaced your heart with a magically conductive crystal and bound the two to one another through my magic. Think of it as my personal variant of your brother's vaunted Evil Piece system," Shalba calmly explained, like he hadn't just butchered the Devil glaring up at him. (2)

"Put simply, Diodora, as of now, you are my pawn, my tool, my slave. Your life belongs to me. Lie to me, betray me, withhold information from me, or compromise the Old Satans again, and I will crush your heart like a rotten fruit and end your miserable existence. If you attempt to tamper with that crystal, it will detonate, killing you just the same, and not any less painfully. And as for your remaining servants, their fealty to you has henceforth been revoked. Only I command them now, and you will die if any of them willingly or otherwise act against me on your behalf. You live by my will alone, and I know how much you want to live. Am I as clear as I can possibly be, you loathsome cur?"

Diodora's gaze slowly drifted to the floor, his entire world crumbling as he heard this. His freedom to do as he pleased was gone. Everything he had built up, all the effort he'd put into placing himself as the strongest among his generation, rendered worthless.

He was no longer Diodora Astaroth, brother to Ajuka of the Four Satans, and heir to House Astaroth. Now, he was just Diodora, disgraced high-class Devil, and slave to Shalba Beelzebub.

Shakily, he knelt before his… master. "Y-yes, my lord. I… I will do your bidding."

Shalba returned to his throne and sat back down. "Good. Now, go back to your former home, erase any involvement with us, and return here before I decide to truly cut my losses. You have one hour, starting now. Get out of my sight!"

Diodora clamored to his feet and hurriedly teleported to a mountain just outside the borders of House Astaroth property. There was a good few kilometers between him and his… old home, so he would be able to think. At least for a little while.

The primary estate of House Astaroth sat between the mountain ranges of the extinct Sabnock's great castle and the fertile plains of the also extinct Marchosias' territory. This lovely stretch of land, which remained temperate year-round, was home to one of the most prestigious Promotion exam centers in the entire Underworld, as well as an event stadium built in honor of his brother, Ajuka.

It was normally such a glorious thing to gaze upon and marvel from high above, but at the moment, Diodora couldn't think of any of that.

He grabbed his now doubly-scarred chest again, once more feeling for a heartbeat, hoping that this was just a bad dream or his mind playing tricks on him. Again, he felt nothing. He was awake and this was all real. He fell to his knees and grasped his head, groaning in anguish.

This was wrong. This was all wrong. His plan was perfect. It had always worked in the end. There would sometimes be setbacks, sure, inevitable ones on occasion, but they were always inconsequential. He always achieved what he strode for, and almost completed his life's work as a result. He was so close. Asia was the very last one. The pinnacle of his masterful, unprecedented collection! No one in the Underworld had ever have achieved what he did! None ever would!

But now, it was ruined!

Why? Why did this happen? Where did it all go so wrong?!

…

…

…

He knew why.

…

He knew the answer well before even asking himself that.

His failure, his fall, his enslavement.

It was all his fault!

The image of the human that destroyed everything flashed into his mind. Silently staring at him, mocking him for the pathetic state he was left in! Gloating over beating him, over ruining everything!

Diodora leaned back and let loose a enraged howl, screaming out his frustration to the Underworld, and the human that smashed his ambition to pieces.

"DAAAAAAMN YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU!"

His voice carried across the wind and bounced off the nearest mountainside, returning to him with all the same hatred and anger. When the echoes finally died down, he seethed and spat between ragged breaths.

"If it's the last thing that I ever do… I swear… I will kill him… Shalba be damned! The Old Satans be damned! The entire Underworld be damned! I swear I will kill that human!"

Not today. Not tomorrow.

But he will kill him.

---

…

(1): In chess, the fastest way to checkmate is by White moving two particular pawns forward at the start and leaving their king open to a diagonal checkmate from Black's queen, thus Fool's Mate. It's rare, but it can happen.

(2): This was largely inspired by Tensura Slime, where Sandman had done much the same to Mjurran and held it over her head to make her do his bidding.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 10: Work on the Side

The last week in May saw an end to the cherry blossoms, and the beginning of Japan's rainy season. Almost every week from then until late July would be peppered with at least one rain storm, keeping the foliage alive and green well into the summer months. The temperatures would also be exquisitely moderate, even with the steadily rising humidity that was to come.

This Saturday, a sunny break from Kuoh Town's most recent rainfall, Connor took the long way to the academy, enjoying the weather for what it was. Walking step for step beside him, clad in the Kuoh Academy girls' uniform and wearing the same bright smile she did every morning, was Asia Argento.

In the two weeks that passed following the Devil's attempt to abduct her, she had bounced back with remarkable enthusiasm. She had taken his words about this being a new start to heart, or so it appeared. Being able to properly communicate with the locals was a big boost to her confidence, too. The translation spell Connor taught her opened up a world of possibilities to the exiled nun, and she couldn't wait to see what else that world had to offer.

On a different note, Tobio provided him with his promised payment on Sunday for the investigation work. His bonus, as decided by Azazel, was an assortment of Black Keys picked out from the group that Tobio had killed at the church. By and large, Keys were even more top-heavy than his runic sword, and thus made for less than ideal melee weapons, but they were excellent templates to use in magecraft. With the right implementation, they could even be more effective than his runestones, yet with a limited supply, he had to be mindful of their conditions.

The very next Monday, Sona had presented him with a scholarship offer addressed to Asia. The girl wept with joy at him delivering the news that evening, calling it the best birthday present she'd ever gotten. She clarified by saying that her seventeenth birthday had been on the 11^th of May, but the thought of being able to go to school more than made up for missing it.

As Connor had expected, Asia became an instant celebrity among the student populace once her name became known. The third-year and even second-year girls all gushed over her like one would gush over a little sister, and the people she came to speak with grew as protective of her as Connor was.

She even acquired a title and bodyguard detail on her first day without trying! Every time she ventured out into the hallway or to one of the school's club or lab rooms, Connor saw that there was always at least one or two members of the Kendo Club there with her. Like loyal retainers to the heir of a samurai warlord, they would act as a shield for the 'Principessa di Kuoh' (Princess of Kuoh) against any incoming boys, with him being the only exception they let through.

That was his biggest clue as to why he acted the way he did around her, and it was nice to know that it wasn't just him being his usual possessive self. He was simply the first victim of her innocent charisma. She could talk anybody into protecting her.

From there, a comfortable routine was found, for the first time in a long time. The two foreign students would depart for school, have an eventful day, or even just an average one, then return home with no trouble. At the end of every day, Asia would talk about the people she met and the new things she learned. Every day was a new adventure to her.

Of course, there was also the presence of other male students to contend with, particularly Dumb and Dumber (Matsuda and Motohama) trying futilely to score time with the “bodacious blonde babe.” The two actually confronted Connor about his relationship with Asia, crying and moaning about how unfair it was that he got the new girl all to himself. He sent them packing with a friendly reminder that Bruiseball wasn't a passing craze.

Oddly enough, Issei was rarely seen with his fellow Stooges nowadays, hence the downgrade in their moniker. Most of his time was now either spent doing actual schoolwork, or business with the ORC, whatever that entailed. Connor still had his reservations about Rias, but it looked like she was actually straightening him out. A feat that many at the academy had deemed impossible.

Issei would sometimes come by the apartment between jobs during the week just to stop and chat. Insistent as he was about being Asia's friend, meeting her off-campus was the only way he could do that without getting in trouble from the nun's Secret Service agents. With Asia now a full-time student, Rias had given up on trying to stop him, according to Issei, and just advised him to practice caution around her. Caution which he threw to the wind the moment the nun spoke to him.

Connor could tell that Issei was torn between the crush he was beginning to foster for Asia, and his loyalty to his master. Sooner or later, he would have to make a decision, and the magus frankly didn't know if the kid would end up picking the latter.

Passing through the main gate, he looked up to the Student Council's window to see Sona watching students as they arrived. When her gaze turned to him and Asia, he gave a nod and waved.

---

Sona reciprocated the magus' greeting with her own wave and a smile.

Things were finally settling down in Kuoh, at least somewhat. The attack on Connor's apartment and the burning of the church were the last major incidents that had occurred in a while, something that she and everyone in hers and Rias' peerage were glad for.

It had been a… trying couple of weeks, starting with the morning after that night's events.

–––––

Tsubaki had only just closed the door to the office, and Sona continued to look down at the notepad, going back over everything Connor told her and weighing her options.

Sona hadn't said anything to Rias after Connor first informed her of Asia Argento's story. She knew fully well that Rias wouldn't believe it, or even entertain the thought. The Gremory heiress was of the mind that the magus was nothing but trouble, even when he hadn't done anything beyond decline their offers for reincarnation.

Regardless, Sona had to tell Rias about what was going on, now that things had escalated. This incident went beyond the scope of what either of the two could manage. Neither she nor Rias had the pull necessary to achieve what Connor was asking for.

But her sister did.

The Student Council President sighed and returned to her desk, picking up the handset to a single line corded telephone stationed on the corner. There was no real advantage to using it over her personal one, but it always just felt more... professional to do it this way. Much like Rias using those silly glasses of hers when she really didn't need them.

Fighting the very foreboding feeling of dread, she punched in the number for the one person in the world that had the power and the willingness to start a second ice age if Sona requested it. The second ring had barely started when she heard the recipient pick up.

“Siste-”

“SO-TAN! You finally called me!” Sona cringed and held the phone away from her ear for a few seconds. She knew to expect a loud response, but this was piercing! “Oh, this is so exciting! Are we finally going to have some girl-to-girl talk on the phone?!”

“Er... not exactly. I need your help with something.”

She heard nothing on the other end in response, not even the sound of a disconnect.

“Hello? Siste–?”

“SO-TAAAAN!”

The heiress jumped as the same loud voice she'd heard on the phone just seconds ago was now right behind her, the owner of that voice jumping onto her back and latching on like a monkey to a tree. The handset went flying out of her grasp, clattering to the desk and stopping just short of the edge.

Sona didn't know how the woman did it. Ordinarily, when a Devil teleports to a location, their magic circle appears at the destination in order to stabilize the connection. The same was also true for the Satans, since the circles helped to contain their latent magical energy until they made the transfer. For the life of her, she could never discover how her sister could just appear out of thin air the way she did.

She doubted she would get a straight answer from the Satan if she asked. Her sister's response would be something along the lines of “My love for my So-tan makes anything possible!”

“What happened? What's wrong? Are you okay? Did the Angels attack? It's Gabriel, isn't it? That bitch! Finally showing her tru-”

“Sera!” Sona interrupted the woman's rapid-fire questions, resorting to a nickname from years ago. She turned her head to make eye contact, thankful that Connor wasn't here to witness this. “The problem has been dealt with for the moment.”

“Eh?” Her older sister blinked comically before hopping off her back. Now free to move, Sona turned around fully to take in the Serafall Leviathan's state of dress.

Her long black hair was done into twin tails, and her pink eyes curiously regarded her little sister. Dressed in a silly pink and white magical girl outfit, the kind that Sona wouldn't dare anyone to wear, she looked more like a cosplayer that routinely attended conventions of anime and manga than one of the four ruling figures of the Underworld. Her fully matured body reinforced the ludicrous image, with mountainous breasts almost too big to fit in the costume.

And judging by the silhouettes Sona noticed on those freely bouncing mountains, she was also not wearing a bra… again.

“Oh… Then, why did you say you needed your nee-chan's help? I'm really, really happy that you called, but you scared me with how serious you were. I mean, So-tan is always serious, but still, kinda scary.”

Sona's eyebrows twitched at the unintentional jab. She placed the wayward phone back on its receiver, straightened her uniform, then turned to face the shorter Devil.

“I called you because I need to report a crime committed in Kuoh by another Devil.”

“Another Devil? A Stray? Did you not get a notice from the Duke?” the Satan asked, tilting her head.

“It was not a Stray. It was another high-class Devil that brought his peerage with him.”

Serafall stood up straight, almost like a switch had been flipped, and her expression began to lose the radiant joy it bore upon arriving. In its place, the Minister of Foreign Affairs surfaced, and her eyes took on the laser-like focus that Sona wished she used more often.

“What were they doing here?” she asked.

“They were looking for someone, and they were willing to kill to get them.”

“If they didn't make themselves known to you, how did you find out they were here?”

“I received the information from a third party.”

“Who gave you this information?”

“They… would like to try and remain anonymous on this matter,” Sona said hesitantly.

“I can't accept that as an answer, Sona. This is too important. Who, helped you?”

Sona swallowed the lump in her throat.

“It was… a-a magus that has been attending Kuoh-”

“A magus?!” Serafall suddenly gripped Sona by the shoulders, all the previous tension gone. “So-tan, are you serious?! I was three hundred fifty years old before I met my first magus, and you're going to school with one?! You are so lucky!”

Sona blinked. “I- Is it really that big of a deal?”

“So-tan, it's like a super secret society! They're not quite as hard to find as a real magical girl, but you pretty much need a Devil's lifespan in order to meet just one magus in your lifetime!”

Surely, her sister was exaggerating, she thought. They couldn't be that rare… could they?

“So, are they a boy or girl? Have you asked them to join your peerage? Because that would really awesome if they did!”

“I made the offer, but… he's not interested.”

Serafall's expression, and the temperature of the room, suddenly dropped as her eyes began to glow. Sona could see her own breath become an icy haze in front of her face.

“What?” the Satan growled. “Some miserable little punk has the nerve to deny. My. SO-TAN?!”

Just as quickly as it appeared, the awful chill vanished, and Sona found herself subjected to another one of Serafall's hugs, her arms pinned to her sides as she was swung to and fro. While the Satan was certainly strong enough to break someone in half with this treatment, Sona found that her pride usually suffered more than her spine.

“Well, good! The less people that want to take my So-tan from me, the better. I get So-tan all to myself! Yay~!”

“Sera, please let go. I need to call Rias,” Sona protested, struggling to escape the Satan's grip.

The swinging stopped.

“Eh? You haven't talked to Ria-tan about this?”

“Not yet. I decided to call you first. I wanted to make sure that I had what I needed and that I wouldn't be wasting your time.” That was only half true, as Sona didn't want her sister to embarrass her in front of Rias again.

Just as she had anticipated, her 'consideration' caused Serafall's face to light up like a Christmas tree. “D'aww! So-tan, you're so thoughtful!”

The hugging intensified, and Sona felt something in her back pop.

“Sera, enough of that! I need to call Rias now.”

“Okay!” The Satan released her sister and bounced on her feet, humming a tune of some kind in… celebration? It was so hard to know what really went on in her head.

Shaking her own head and rubbing her back, Sona picked up the phone's handset once again and dialed Rias' number. This time, the answer came after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Rias, this is Sona. Come to my office, please. Alone.”

“Huh? Umm… okay, I'll be right there.”

Sona hung up the phone, and within seconds, the Gremory magic circle appeared in the teleportation corner. Rias appeared, and she stiffened upon seeing Serafall.

“Hiya, Ria-tan!”

The redhead blinked owlishly. “L-Lady Leviathan? What are you doing here?”

“I dunno, my So-tan hasn't told me yet, but she called me first and then called you,” Serafall explained before childishly pointing and sticking out her tongue. “Ha! Take that, Ria-tan! She loves her nee-chan more than she loves you!”

Rias stared at her friend, understandably befuddled. “You… called her here? About what?”

“To show this.” Sona raised her hand to the left and summoned the body to the floor directly in front of her desk.

Both Rias and Serafall gasped at the Knight's corpse.

“Sona! What is-” Rias was about to demand what this was all about, but did a double-take at the woman's face, then moved to get a closer look. “Wait a minute… I've seen her before! That's one of Diodora's servants! She was one of his escorts at last year's Young Devils Gathering!”

“Yes, I thought I had seen her before, but I wasn't sure,” Sona agreed evenly, eyes squinting as she finally remembered where it was she had met this servant. She and one of Diodora's Rooks had accompanied him to the annual celebration, where he had stayed relatively quiet compared to previous years.

“What happened? Did she go Stray?” Rias asked.

“No, her Knight piece is perfectly stable. I've already checked. You can, too, if you wish.”

Rias did just that, stepping forward and activating a diagnostic spell to verify the Piece's integrity. Her eyes widened upon finding exactly what Sona had the night before; no corruption, no decay of the crystalline core, and no evidence of tampering. Just a single Evil Piece in perfect condition.

Canceling the spell, Rias stepped back and shook her head in confusion.

“I- I don't understand. Was Diodora here, in Kuoh? If so, why did he not tell us that he was coming?”

“Because he didn't want to be found. Not long ago, Diodora infiltrated the Vatican for the sole purpose of getting one Asia Argento excommunicated and away from the security of the Church, and then he followed her here. To what end, I don't know, but it no longer matters. He put our entire race at risk with his actions.”

Rias' mouth dropped open, and her eyes expressed incredulous disbelief, roughly mirroring that of Sona's own once she learned the nun's side of the story.

“Wh-What?! Sona, that's insane! Where did you hear… Wait…” The Gremory heiress' expression turned sour. “Have you been talking to Connor? Is that what he told you? Did he do this?!”

“You're not listening to me, Rias.”

“You can't trust him, Sona, and the Pillars are not going to believe any of that for one second!”

“Rias, will you just listen?!” Sona shouted, fed up with her friend's attitude. The redhead stopped, giving her the chance the speak. “Whatever you or I may think of Mr. Lochlainn is irrelevant. This body is proof enough to warrant an inquiry into Diodora's recent activity. If she was here without ours or the Satans' authorization, then he's been going behind everyone's back to do who-knows-what, for who-knows-how-long, and placing all of us in needless jeopardy. This cannot be ignored!”

The potential political fallout was twofold now, and Rias had to be made aware of it. Bad enough that the Church would cry for war, but the lease on Kuoh Town that the Devils held with the Shinto Pantheon was already strained thanks to the previous Governor's sudden disappearance. If this got out and the problem wasn't dealt with swiftly, the Devils as a whole could kiss this gateway to the human world, and any future relations with the yōkai, g oodbye.

“Sister, what do-”

Sona turned to Serafall, looking to get her input on the matter, but stopped when she saw the look on her sister's face. The elder Sitri hadn't spoken a word since the body was revealed. Her gaze remained fixated on the corpse, although the stare she was giving it told Sona that she had been listening to their conversation and having her own mental debate.

Finally, she spoke, more to herself than the two heiresses.

“Shit… Aju-kun's going to be pissed…”

–––––

And 'pissed' he certainly was.

From what Serafall told her later, Ajuka Beelzebub was so angry of the news that he destroyed all of the equipment in one of his laboratories, fixed it all with magic, then destroyed everything again. His furious screams could be heard from two rooms over, and everyone there could hear him cursing his younger brother to a fate worse than death.

For a man as calm and mild-mannered as the inventor of the Evil Piece system, it made Sona shudder at the thought of seeing him truly furious.

Sona never understood the family dynamic between Ajuka and Diodora, but it couldn't possibly have been a healthy one to begin with. Not once, in the time she had known Diodora, did she see him and Ajuka in the same room, even on special occasions that practically required it. Where one came in, the other left, and vice versa. It was almost as if they couldn't stand being around each other.

Comparatively speaking, she was glad that her sister didn't regard the law of Satans severing ties to their families with much reverence. No matter how much Serafall embarrassed her with childish antics, their relationship could have been much worse.

Since then, Serafall had kept Sona updated on the news through letters, in a rare but welcome turn in professional etiquette.

As it turned out, Diodora Astaroth had been gone from his estate for over a week and, just days before the attack, his peerage had disappeared as well. While Serafall told the truth of the matter to the other Satans, the story she gave to the Seventy-Two Pillars placed someone matching Diodora's description as being seen in Kuoh Town around the time of an arson attack on the church there, according to eyewitnesses.

Between Diodora's absence, his history of frequent trips to the human world, and the current inability to locate him, there wasn't any way to dispel any accusation of wrongdoing or even prove that he wasn't in Kuoh at all.

Its missing heir now a suspect in an investigation ordered by the Satans, House Astaroth was left scrambling for a way to keep from losing its standing in the Underworld and simultaneously distance itself from Diodora. Within three days, there was talk of Ajuka's niece in the branch family, Latia, being named the new heiress in order to fill the vacated position. Within seven days, it was done, and Latia was the new face of Astaroth.

Personally, Sona was all for it, having met the young woman before and found her to be a broad-minded and responsible Devil that valued the clan and her people above her own reputation. She was certainly much easier to talk to than Diodora had been. Once she gained enough influence in the high-class echelons, she could very well be a key ally for Sona in founding her school for reincarnated Devils in the Underworld.

Even so –Sona had to remind herself– that was still a ways into the future, and Latia would need time to acclimate to her new role.

“Kaichō?” The voice of her new secretary broke Sona from her thoughts.

“Yes, Saji?”

“We've got requests from some of the sports clubs that need your final approval.”

For now, the Sitri heiress had other business to attend. With a nod, she turned and walked back to her desk, noting the stack of papers that Saji was carrying.

---

Lunchtime passed, classes were dismissed for the day, and students churned out of the front gate in their little packs and clans for the weekend, as per usual. Connor, on the other hand, walked down the corridor leading the the Student Council office, looking through the window and taking in the scenery of the wooded area behind the school.

Reya had said that Sona wanted him to come by and talk after classes. Whatever for, he had no idea, and neither did Reya when he asked her. She didn't seem concerned about it, though, so perhaps it was nothing serious. Due to this, he kept a reasonable pace, but saw no reason to hurry. Knowing Sona, she would be spending all afternoon at the office to prepare for the next week anyway.

Arriving at the door, Connor gave three knocks and waited for a reply.

“Come in.”

Opening the door and peeking inside, he found Sona by herself at her desk. She was organizing paperwork that had been in its center, putting them aside in neat stacks.

“We need to stop meeting like this, Madam President. You wanted to see me?” he asked, casually walking in and closing the door behind him.

She smiled at the deliberately English title.

“Yes, there's something that I believed you would want to know. This won't take long, so don't sit down if you don't wish to.” She waited until he had approached her desk and propped himself against one of the chairs.

“I'll give you the basic rundown. Yesterday evening, Rias had an important meeting with another high-class Devil regarding business between hers and the latter's families. Just a few hours ago, she informed me that she and her peerage are going to be out of town for a little over a week, starting tomorrow. In that time, the responsibilities as dual Governors of Kuoh will rest solely with me and my own peerage. That includes matters like extra contracts and security of the town.”

“So she goes on early vacation and dumps all her work on top of yours? Ouch.”

“It's not a vacation,” she clarified. “I'm not at liberty to tell the exact purpose for their leave of absence, that is strictly Gremory business. But it can be said that it is something that she can no longer leave for another time.”

For a moment, Connor wondered what could be so important, but he quickly dismissed it. He wouldn't argue if it meant Rias being away for a while. Even with her backing off a bit after Asia's enrollment, that first impression made him realize how compatible he was with the redhead. Not at all.

Sona continued, “At any rate, with her group gone, that leaves myself and my peerage with added duties for the next ten days or so. Among those duties is to be on the lookout for Stray Devils that cross over from the Underworld to the human world. So, I wanted to ask you. What would you say if I offered for you to go with us on a Stray Devil hunt?”

The magus raised an eyebrow. Was that her way of saying, “I want to hire you?”

“Interesting offer… but, my answer notwithstanding, you make it sound like you're expecting trouble.”

“Not necessarily. It's just that Kuoh has been a hive of supernatural activity of late. Last month, Rias' group killed one Stray and then captured another one just a week ago. It has me concerned that another one, or perhaps even more than one, will appear in her absence.”

“The prosecution rests,” Connor deadpanned. “You're expecting another Stray to pop up.”

“I simply wish to be prepared for any unforeseen problems.”

'She's just covering her bases, then.'

He could see where she was coming from now. If the necessity arose such that assistance was needed, she would rather have reached out to potential allies than stubbornly denied herself the chance.

“Well, color me cautious, but I'd like to know the details of a hunt before committing to one.”

“Fair enough, but that works both ways, Mr. Connor. If indeed you agree to join us on a hunt, I need to know what you're capable of, so as to not misappropriate your skill set when the time for action comes.”

In his mind, he let out a laugh.

'Well, that answers that question. Goodbye, subtlety! Hardly knew ya! She's not even trying to hide how much of a read she wants on me. Guess she's going for the 'two birds one stone' approach.'

“I hope you understand that I can't show you everything, Sona. This isn't like sharing and comparing notes for a math test, there are some things that I have to keep to myself. It's just part and parcel of being a magus.”

She calmly held up a hand. “Not to worry, I'm not expecting you to go into detail about your magecraft now if you haven't already. As the saying goes, 'A magician never reveals his secrets.' This would be more of an assessment of your physical skills, how well you fare if a battle were to occur.”

“Based on my track record, you already have an idea of that,” he pointed out.

“I do, but only based on what others have told me. I haven't seen it with my own eyes, and I will not bring someone along on a hunt if I am unsure about their abilities.”

'She's thought this through, at least. Don't bring a knife to a gunfight.'

“Alright. Just one more question: Is it paying work?”

“Not normally, but there are exceptions. Many times, the one posting the mark will simply give information of the Stray to the Archduke, who in turn leaves it to the assigned hunter to manage compensation of themselves and their allies. Any offered reward goes to the hunter upon completion of the contract, and what they do with it is up to their discretion, be it money or material possessions.”

“Kind of like your normal contract work, huh?” Sona nodded. “Hmm… Well, if nothing else, it would be an interesting experience. When did you want to do this?”

“If it's not too sudden, then perhaps this same time tomorrow?”

He shrugged. “Barring the rain we're expecting, sure.”

---

As it turned out, Sunday was a spectacular day for such an assessment. Not a cloud in the sky, the sun shining brightly, and a slight breeze that kept the temperature most pleasant.

'The weatherman lied. And here I had plans to study at home.'

Connor met with Sona and her peerage just outside the gymnasium, facing to the woods. The peerage members were standing at attention, all in uniform. Connor, meanwhile, was outfitted in a t-shirt with a light jacket, loose fitting sweat pants and tennis shoes. If this was going to be a physical exam, he would need to move freely.

Asia was currently meeting with some friends she had made in class 2-C and spending the day with them in town. More and more, the timid girl was breaking out of her shell. She might stand out in a crowd, but if she could fit in with a group, that was good enough for him.

Sona stepped forward from her position at the left hand side of the line.

“Before we begin, Mr. Connor, I would like for us to review a few things. You already know that the Evil Piece grants power based on what Piece is used in the reincarnation process, and that more than one of that kind of Piece might be needed if a person is strong enough. What we did not cover in the time since then were the specific powers granted upon reincarnation, so let us correct that oversight right now.”

The Sitri heiress then began walk down the line one by one to introduce the Pieces.

“Rooks gain superhuman strength and durability, and are the powerhouses of the group. Tsubasa is my only Rook as of yet.” The tallest girl of the Sitri peerage nodded to him.

“Knights are granted tremendous speed and agility, quite literally running circles around an adversary. Thus far, Tomoe is my sole Knight.” She gave a wave.

“Bishops have enhanced magical power and can use a wide variety of spells as a result. Both Reya and Momo are my Bishops.” A smile and a bow from the respective magic casters.

“The Queen possesses traits of all three aforementioned Pieces, making them the most balanced out of the entire set. Tsubaki holds the Queen.” The Vice-President gave a polite bow.

“Pawns, much like in actual chess, are able to Promote themselves to become any of the other Pieces, except the King, when certain conditions are met. Saji has four pawns and Ruruko another one, so there is a chance of bringing in up to three more in the future.” Saji nodded and Ruruko bowed.

“And lastly, the King maintains the flow of demonic energy to the Pieces.” Finishing her lecture, Sona stood to the side of the Pawns, one hand clasped over the other. “Now then, Mr. Connor, I'm aware that you do not wish to become a Devil, and I will stand by my word to respect your decision. That said, if things were different and you agreed to reincarnation, what Piece could you see yourself as?”

Connor's eyes coasted from one side of the lineup to the other, every one of the Devils curiously awaiting his answer in their own ways. Except for Saji, whose focus seemed to be more on Sona instead.

“Before I give my first pick, I have a question.”

“You may ask,” Sona permitted.

“You said that the Queen struck a balance between speed, strength and magic, while the others were more focused on one particular area. Correct me I'm wrong but, if the Evil Piece system is modeled so closely after chess, what's the point of a Pawn Promoting to anything other than Queen if they get the best of all three worlds that way? Unless there was more to it that you didn't mention.”

“There certainly is,” the Sitri heiress replied, quietly pleased by his observation. “While it is true that the Queen Piece grants a boon in those aforementioned fields, they do not possess them to the extent of the other three Pieces. A Pawn already talented in magic that Promotes to Bishop, for example, could quite possibly outclass a base Queen or even another Bishop. Furthermore, the presence of multiple Queens can adversely affect how much a King can support the group as a whole. Does that answer your question?”

“It does. They may be overspecialized, but it's more economical to run a team with more Pieces than a group of Queens.”

Clearly, there was more thought put into the system's development than one would first assume; there was a time and place for everything. In many cases, though, the decision of how to Promote would be based on circumstance and what the Pawn was naturally capable of.

“Precisely. Now then, back to the topic at hand. Your choice role as a Devil would be…”

“I would say that I'd be better suited as a Bishop or a Rook. Preferably the Bishop, if it were still open.”

Sona nodded, Reya and Tsubasa smiled, and Tomoe pouted.

“Hey, what's wrong with being a Pawn?” Saji asked and Ruruko nodded beside him.

“I never said Pawn was bad. I just said that Rook and Bishop would've been my first choice.”

“And why is that?” Tsubaki inquired, shifting and placing her right hand on her hip.

“Well, I'll level with you, speed isn't exactly my forte. I'm better suited for stacking the deck in my favor before a fight actually begins, if it ever does. Whether that's just boosting myself or sabotaging the enemy depends on the situation. That goes for both my use of magecraft and my close combat style.” He had already done just that before coming, having applied Reinforcement to his whole body and invoked the first tier of the strengthening runes on his arms as a 'just in case.'

“I see,” Sona hummed in understanding before turning to the bluenette. “Tsubasa, would you do the honors?”

The Rook nodded and strode forward confidently, removing her school uniform in the process to reveal the academy standard gym uniform underneath. The expression on her face was one of excitement and anticipation.

“So you think you could make it as a Rook, huh? You wanna see what the real deal is like?”

“If you're offering.” He took one step back and sank down, putting his center of gravity into his hips while keeping his body angled toward her. He brought his left arm up to chamber against his body and extended the right arm forward, keeping both hands slightly open.

Tsubasa stopped in her tracks the moment he did so, then put her right foot forward and stomped the ground. Following this, she assumed a stance that made Connor raise a curious eyebrow: Legs spread, body facing to her left, elbows angled outward and fists tilted toward herself. This spar was supposed to be all in good fun, but if she was really going to use that style, she was looking to make it hurt.

The Rook inched forward, bit by bit, a move reciprocated by the American, until the two were in arm's length of each other. Neither said nor did anything for about five seconds. Connor could see from behind his opponent that their spectators were starting to get anxious.

Finally, Tsubasa struck first, throwing a right punch followed by an elbow to his chin. He deflected the first blow and barely avoided the second before backing up. She tried again, this time using her arms to open up his guard and throw an open-handed strike to his chest. Once again, he deflected and backed up.

With her first few strikes, he had a rough estimate of what he was up against. She was obviously holding back, but even then, her strength was not at all dissimilar from what he felt in the hooded Devil's attacks two weeks ago. In comparison, Tsubasa seemed much more in tune with and in control of her strength.

“C'mon, show some grit! Lemme see whatcha got!” Tsubasa taunted with a cheeky smile.

Connor's only response was to give his own smile and turn his right hand for a 'bring it' gesture.

She did just that, sliding forward and making another attempt at his head.

'Ehwaz.'

This time, he met her halfway, moving into her guard quicker than she had expected using the rune of movement and progress to enhance his speed. She defended with her left arm and tried for a counterattack, but he blocked that as well.

The two traded blows left to right, dodging and blocking without landing much of a hit on either. For a while, he kept up with her, but as the spar went on, she began steadily increasing the power behind her strikes. She was gauging him just as he had with her, but was playing the long game, which spoke of her experience.

She pulled back slightly and launched her right arm for a punch to his chest.

'Gebo!'

Opening his left hand to receive the attack, her punch landed squarely in his open palm. He grit his teeth from the impact, but held firm.

'Thurisaz!'

The runes of equal exchange and directed force did their work, sending the kinetic energy through his arms and into his right hand. He launched a right straight punch to deliver her attack right back at her, but her own left hand shot up and intercepted his strike, just as he did with hers.

The two were now locked for a brief moment until Tsubasa grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm toward her, then struck with her right shoulder aiming squarely into his left clavicle. He twisted his body just in time to deflect the blow, then shifted his body weight to pull her back into his range. She didn't stumble forward like he'd hoped, but he did wrench his right arm out of her grasp.

Bringing his right arm under her own, he stepped behind her and levered her arm against his to twist it behind her and push her down for a submission hold.

Just as he was about to put his foot in her knee to help with that, she stomped the ground with tremendous force and caused a miniature earthquake right where they stood. He lurched forward from the surprising move, allowing her to push him away with another shoulder check. The magus now off balance and vulnerable, she pressed the attack by going for a straight punch to his solar plexus.

It would have landed, had Connor not caught her fist again, then dropped to the ground on his back, using his entire body weight to yank her forward. Grabbing her shirt with his right hand and planting his foot into her abdomen, he rolled backward and pushed her off and over him.

He pushed himself back onto his feet just in time for Tsubasa to get up and come again with another punch to his face. He dropped back down and braced for more punishment when-

“Cease!”

Sona's authoritative shout brought the spar to an end.

Both combatants stopped and stared at one another, before standing up straight and bowing. Several members of the peerage applauded the display.

From start to finish, only sixty seconds had passed.

“Not bad at all, Mr. Connor,” Sona congratulated. “Where did you learn how to fight like that?”

Connor took several deep breaths. “One of my dad's best friends in the States did martial arts after retiring from the Army. He taught my dad and I some pretty interesting stuff about CQC.” Of course, neither Connor nor his father were nearly as buff as the man had been, so they had to improvise with techniques derived from several different martial arts and discreet use of magecraft.

“That was more than just CQC,” Tsubasa added, approaching him. As expected of a Rook, she didn't even look winded. “Your opening stance is a basic form in traditional karate, and your movements and locks feel like jujitsu.”

“Yeah, that's how I was taught. As for you… That footwork and those strikes? I remember my sensei telling me how lethal bajiquan can be without restraint.”

“So you did recognize it? Well, no wonder you were sticking to defense. Yeah, I did a lot of fighting before I was reincarnated, and becoming a Rook only made it better.” The Rook gave a satisfied smile. “That was fun. We should go again sometime.”

“Maybe. What say you, Sona? Do I pass inspection?”

“Tsubasa?” The heiress deferred to her Rook, who gave a firm nod.

“You said it yourself, Kaichō; not bad at all. I think he'll be alright.”

“Then that's all I need to hear.” Sona turned to Connor and smiled lightly. “We'll let you know if something comes up, Mr. Connor.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Or so he said.

---

That Wednesday, just before he was getting ready to call it a night, he got a text from Sona asking him to call her. When he did, she filled him in on the situation.

True to Sona's suspicions, another Stray Devil had appeared in Kuoh. They had tracked it to the abandoned Ishikawa textile factory on the north side of town. Luckily for him, the factory wasn't very far from his apartment, so he'd told them to get started while he would meet them there. When she asked if he wanted for someone to come pick him up via teleportation, he declined, telling her that he needed a few minutes to get ready.

For freedom of movement, he decided to vest himself in tennis shoes, loose-fitting pants, a t-shirt and a light jacket, all of which were modified with runes to mask his presence and resist physical damage. Grabbing all the equipment he believed he would need to kill a monstrous demon, he set out to the factory at a brisk pace, aided by Raidho etched on the soles of his shoes to give a light boost to his step.

About five minutes into his 'run,' he arrived at the designated location. Sona and her peerage were all together, standing a good distance away from the building their mark was allegedly inhabiting. It was a large brick building settled next to a warehouse and, although the former was in better shape than the latter, both structures looked to be in as similar a condition as the old church had been. Namely, very poor condition.

He didn't understand why the Devils seemed to insist on wearing the school uniform outside of school.

“There you are, Mr. Connor. I'm glad you could make it,” the Sitri heiress greeted.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were even coming,” Tsubasa added, who seemed especially excited to see him there.

“Why'd you guys wait for me? You're not worried this Stray'll get away?”

“We've set up a barrier around the factory that's confirmed the presence of the Stray, but so far, he hasn't moved since we got here,” Reya answered.

'Doesn't mean he's not preparing for you.'

“Alright,” he started slowly, “so what've we got?”

Sona fixed her glasses as she began. “The Stray's name is Carlisle, and he's a Bishop in service to House Shax. No Sacred Gear, but he is extremely dangerous nonetheless. According to the report we received, Carlisle murdered three of his fellow peerage members, drained their bodies completely dry of blood and then gouged their eyes out.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, geez, sounds like such a swell guy.”

“There's more. It seems that a maid in service to House Shax also went missing shortly after Carlisle's killing spree. It is believed that she was abducted during his escape.”

He blinked. “So this is a rescue mission, too? Then–”

“It's unlikely that she is still alive,” Tsubaki denied grimly, “with how violent his other crimes are. It's unfortunate but, in cases like this, we must assume the worst and prioritize our own survival.”

“That's right, which is why I don't want anyone to be caught alone tonight.”

Having made her stance clear, Sona then outlined her plan of attack: Tsubaki would lead Reya, Tsubasa, Tomoe, Saji and Connor inside and split up once in to root out the Stray, while Sona, Momo and Ruruko would stay outside to maintain the barrier around the building and keep the group apprised of any activity.

“Stay together, and watch each other's backs. Understood?”

“Yes, Kaichō,” the Student Council sounded off in unison. Connor simply nodded.

“And Mr. Connor, take this.”

Sona handed him a device no larger than the palm of his hand.

“A wireless headset?”

“The Underworld's equivalent. Pushing the button will open the microphone and allow you to speak with the rest of us through the Sitri family's magic circle.”

He pressed the button and watched the Sitri magic circle manifest at the end.

“Testing, testing,” he spoke into the circle, looking around the group and receiving nods and thumbs-ups. He nodded, then fit the plastic loop over his left ear. “If this thing fries my brain, I'm coming back to haunt you.”

“It has no such function, I assure you.” Sona flatly replied, expecting such a quip.

With everyone in the group now prepared, Tsubaki's team took point while Connor and the others followed close. Stopping at the door, Tsubaki slowly pushed it open. When the heavy door let out the air from inside, all six were greeted with an odor so foul that it made everyone take a few steps back and cover their nose and mouth with whatever was available.

Saji retched. “Agh, what is that smell?!”

“I'm guessing that's the stench of really old and rancid blood,” Connor coughed into his sleeve. “Wow, it's enough to make a man sick.”

“Is everything okay?” Ruruko called out from her point on the barrier.

“We're fine, it's all good,” Tsubasa reassured the youngest of the Devils.

“Fukukaichō,” Tomoe addressed Tsubaki, “Not to undermine Kaichō's orders, but I don't think splitting up tonight is a good idea. We should probably all stick together.”

“All in favor?” the magus called for a quick vote. Not that he was ungrateful for the like-minded option, but he'd figured that sights or smells like this would be something that they were better used to and well prepared for. If they were reacting this strongly to it, however, it had to have really unsettled them.

Hands raised across the group in a unanimous vote.

“Don't worry, I agree,” Tsubaki acquiesced. “Kaichō, we'll all be staying in one group.”

The Sitri heiress nodded, sensing the unease. “Very well. Be careful.”

Connor stuck to the rear of the pack. Since Devils could see at night better than him on a natural level, they made for better leads into a dark enclosed space. Once out of sight from Sona and the others outside, he stayed back enough to apply a Kenaz rune to his eyes without drawing attention. Keeping pace with the group as his eyes adjusted, a world within the metal walls opened up.

The cavernous old factory held many relics of a once prosperous business: dye presses, weaving machines, thread winders, and several others that Connor couldn't guess what they did, some of which was undoubtedly more high-tech than others here, yet all of it was left forgotten. After the company went bankrupt years ago during a market crash, everything inside was simply abandoned. Even the once perfectly usable parts and metal that made these machines was seemingly of little value to anyone.

It would be piteous, if the weighty stink of blood didn't make it so unnerving.

They hadn't gone very far when Connor heard the earpiece activate.

“Heads up, guys, you're coming up on Carlisle's signature,” Momo warned over the magic link.

“Has he not moved at all?” Tomoe asked.

“No, he's still right where he has been.”

'That's odd,' Connor thought to himself. Was the Stray that confident in his chances?

Tsubaki suddenly called for a halt, her posture tense. Looking forward, he saw why.

Suspended above the floor by way of chains was a large iron ring, with broken lengths of even more chain dangling from several places on it and piled on the ground underneath it. In no way could it be called an industrial crane due to the chains being attached to the ceiling at a singular spot, its only capable movement being to swing like a crude pendulum. More to the point, a magic circle was drawn underneath the fixture, hard to really make out due to the low light, but highly contrasted against the concrete floor.

A short distance away from there was a body. A horrifically mutilated body.

The arms were mangled nearly beyond recognition, and everything from the shoulders up was gone, with a chunk of the upper torso torn and broken in multiple places. Jagged edges of bone and torn bits of meat were strewn about in every direction left available by the empty space.

To say the least, not a combination one would expect to find in a textile factory.

“You're right on top of him, where is he?” Sona asked.

'Oh… That's why.'

“Kaichō… somebody beat us here. Carlisle is already dead.”

“Must've been a barber with a bear trap; they took way too much off the top,” Connor morbidly joked while keying the microphone, earning an groan from Tsubaki and an awkward chuckle from several others. “Too soon?”

“I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Tsubaki, did this killer leave a trail?”

The Vice-President knelt down to inspect the body, being careful not to touch it. “Not really. It looks like most of Carlisle's blood was drained as well, even from the floor. What we're looking at should be an absolute mess, but there's hardly any blood around it. Fresh blood, rather.”

Connor looked closer as well. Sure enough, there was barely any blood for such a brutal animal mauling. Something had made a chew toy out of him before taking his head off in one big bite, and the streaks the magus could see looked like something had tried to lap as much blood from the floor as possible once Carlisle was dead.

“How strange… It had to have been recent, because the Evil Piece is still giving off power… Stay on your guard, whatever killed him might still be inside. We're expanding the barrier's parameters to watch for any kind of movement.”

"Understood. Everyone, look around but stay within visual range of each other," Tsubaki ordered. "Something did our job for us, but we cannot leave until we find out what."

“Hai!”

While she and Reya began inspecting the ritual circle and the iron ring, the others started searching around them, remaining alert to any change. By now, everyone had gotten somewhat accustomed to the smell of the factory enough to leave their faces uncovered, unpleasant though it remained.

Connor was near Saji and Tsubasa, working along what he believed to be the north wall of the factory. He glanced back to the ring several times out of curiosity. As much as he wanted to study it himself, this wasn't his operation; he was just a hired hand.

After a short while of poking around, he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye, next to a divot in the concrete.

“Hel~lo, what are you?” he mumbled to himself. Cautiously, he walked toward it, watching every step and glancing around to make sure nothing moved while he did.

Once within reach, he discerned the object to be a small book of some kind. He dug out his assortment of runestones from his left pants pocket and sifted through them until finding the right one for what he had in mind.

'Perthro.'

Returning the others to his pocket, he then channeled magical energy into the stone and dropped it directly over the book.

Perthro was the rune pertaining to fate, fortune, or, in the way Connor used it, mystery. Essentially a litmus test for magic enchantments and safeguards, the rune was designed to light up when the stone came in contact with something that bore foreign magic. The stone was already alight due to the barrier outside, but purging it with his magical energy had the effect of 'refreshing the sensor,' so to speak.

Landing squarely in the center of the cover, the stone sat and remained unchanged. He nodded and picked up the book, stashing the stone. The lack of security measures would make for a much easier read. He then walked back to the circle and stood over Reya and Tsubaki, thumbing through the pages.

“You found something?” Tsubaki asked over her shoulder.

“It's a journal, and it's all written in English. Give me a minute, I'll see if he left a clue or two in here.”

The first half of the written pages, Connor found to be largely forgettable; Carlisle's reincarnation, contracts he'd made with humans, rating game critiques and strategies. Pretty meaningless things, at this point. It was only during the last dozen or so pages that the magus found something of note.

“Monday, May 10: Been having trouble sleeping lately. I started having this bizarre dream that's happened every night since Friday. The sky is completely blotted out by dark clouds, not a speck of blue or purple to be found anywhere.”

Connor paused to ask himself, 'Why purple?' before brushing it off and continuing to read.

“I'm standing on rippling water, but there's no breeze. I try to walk forward, but I can't tell if I'm actually moving or standing still. I haven't told Lord Shax about it, but I'm going to talk with Matthias soon. Maybe he can help with whatever this is.

“Wednesday, May 12: Matthias' remedies and spells aren't working. It's the same dream, over and over again. I've gotten to the point where I'm shouting and singing until my voice is hoarse as I go forward, just to hear myself talk, just to hear anything. The ripples my feet make on the water don't change, no matter what I do. I've come to hate sleeping now, and I'm jealous of others that can do it so peacefully.

“Saturday, May 15: The dream changed. There was something there with me in that place. It looked like a giant, hideous bug, or a spider or something. It had this bulbous body covered in things that look like glowing plants, tiny legs that look too small to hold it up, and its head had craters and indents all over it. Beady, black eyes filled each one of those pits, and a round maw at the bottom of the head lined with slimy teeth twitched and flexed, as if it were chewing on something. I felt like vomiting when I first saw it. It started scuttling toward me, so I tried to run, but I couldn't go anywhere, I was just running in place. It kept getting closer. Then it caught up to me, and I woke up screaming.”

The magus was impressed by how vividly this guy could remember every detail of what happened in his own subconscious. Then again, he was being subjected to it repeatedly, so he might well recollect this form of solitary confinement. But why didn't he try fighting the monster with magic like any Bishop was supposedly able to? It was just a dream, after all. He could do anything in there.

After that, Carlisle had stopped putting dates, and the writing got progressively more sloppy.

“I can't go to sleep anymore. That disgusting spider just keeps coming back. Every time I nod off, I see it staring at me with those horrid eyes. Stop staring at me! Stop it! Leave me alone! Shax doesn't believe me, thinks I'm just being 'dramatic.' He doesn't understand, none of them do!”

The next few pages were covered in maddened scribbles, unintelligible words and highly detailed pictures of eyes in all shapes and sizes. It felt like the journal was watching him as he read from it.

“I figured it out! I know how to beat it! I have to gouge out its eyes! It came back last night, but I struck at it this time. I punched one of its eyes, popped it like a grape, and the thing shrieked and finally backed off. I tried again, but it wasn't enough. The damned thing bit off my leg and started eating me alive! Curse Shax for making me a Bishop! I can't do anything more than strike it. I want to tear it apart! I want to destroy it! I want to feast on its blood! I want it to die! DIE, DIE, DIE!!!”

So, this guy lost his mind to a recurring nightmare that made him an insomniac. The magus now had… something… of a motivation for the killing spree and the state of Carlisle's first three victims, but where did that leave him now? Why drain the bodies of blood? And what about his fourth victim? Where was she?

Connor glanced around, then up to the ring, wondering why it was even needed in the first place. Tsubaki and Reya were cataloging the circle's symbols while the others kept searching. Over to the side, it seemed Saji and Tomoe found something interesting. He could see the Knight holding some papers in her left hand. Continuing his reading, the magus found more and more of the ramblings up until the last entry, which was surprisingly coherent.

“I had an epiphany yesterday. In order to be free of the spider, I don't actually need to kill it. I simply need to never sleep again. It can't find me if I don't go to sleep.

“I also remembered that Matthias fought and killed a necromancer some time ago after a deal went sour. I don't know what it was about, but old Mattie ended up with some good reading material once the deed was done. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I borrowed his notes for a while, him being dead and all.

“From what I've read so far, every one of these rituals requires high volumes of blood, both for drawing the circles, and for injecting into the subject. I need more than what a single body can give to fill that quota, as well as a living host with which these 'blood ministrations' can be used on. As much as I want to try it on myself and get results fast, I can't be reckless. I don't want to gloss over any important details.

“The subject I've acquired for my experiment is such a pitiful creature, always crying and pleading to let her go, whining of how much her stomach hurts. If she only realized what a service she was doing for me with this. If I'm right, then the result of this ritual should provide me with enough data on how to produce a serum that can keep one awake for days, or even weeks, on end. If that doesn't work, then perhaps something that will at least keep me from dreaming. I'm on a time crunch, now that I'm Stray. With any luck, this third ministration should–”

The page ended abruptly with what looked like a blood splatter in the bottom right corner.

Connor's eyes widened, now knowing what they were dealing with.

A necromancer was a magus whose craft presided exclusively over death; reanimating the dead, making tools out of human remains, creating life from assembled parts, nothing was off-limits to those lunatics. The notoriously risky actions they often took to acquire their material made them pariahs, even among other magi, for how boldly they tread the line between secrecy and exposure. The nickname 'vulture' was truly synonymous with the practice.

If Carlisle followed notes that originated from one such magus and evidently botched the ritual…

Just as he was about to tell the group his findings, the earpiece activated.

“Everyone, listen,” Sona announced, her tone worrisome. “We've detected movement in your area. Something large is heading your way, but I don't know what it is. Get out of there, now.”

The Devils all looked to each other. The lone human, on the other hand, felt his stomach drop.

Suddenly, an inhuman screech rang out. Everyone tensed, looking around to try and find the source. That proved impossible, since the echo caused by the walls of the factory made it sound like it was coming from everywhere at once. Following that was a repetitive thumping. Connor could feel it in his feet, with every rumble akin to the angry stomping of a huge animal.

The walls of the factory started to feel much farther away than they had before, which only made the sounds seem that much louder.

Then the smell came. That same disgusting odor akin to pus and old blood that almost bowled them over when they walked in. Only this time, it was stronger, much more pervasive.

Finally, they saw… something come skulking around the corner of a large weaving machine several meters away. Nobody said a word or even uttered a sound, too shocked by what they were seeing.

This… creature trudged forward on two arms and two legs, hunched over and walking with the gait of a person imitating a quadruped. Each of its limbs were longer than its body, shaped vaguely like those of a human, and massive claws jutted from elongated fingers and toes. If it were rear up on its back legs, it could easily stand five meters in height.

Its whole body, from head to foot, was covered in matted strips of fur and torn, sickly gray skin that exposed most of the creature's skeleton and connective tissues. Tendons, ligaments and loosely dangling blood vessels were all visible. Both its torso and abdomen looked completely devoid of vital organs, the skin having been receded until it was stretched over the monster's spindly, emaciated frame. Two large folds of skin apparently peeled from its own back were draped over its shoulders and down to the floor, obscuring its head and giving the appearance of a fleshy veil.

And the smell only seemed to magnify once the source came into view. It smelled like death.

This abomination could barely be considered alive, yet somehow it moved without shedding a drop of blood from its decayed form. Something was oozing from the multitude of crevices in its skin, but it wasn't blood.

The creature waved its upper body back and forth through the air, as if tasting it for a peculiar scent, until it snapped its head to face the group, uttering a raspy growl.

Connor got a look at its face, or what barely qualified as such, and the sight was haunting. Like the rest of its body, the gray skin across its head was drawn in to grotesque levels, outlining bone and cartilage to only just resemble something humanoid. Large, curved fangs lined its mouth from left to right, some at the corners angled down and concealing the sides of its lower jaw.

Within the sunken eye sockets sat… nothing but empty, soulless pits. There were no eyes, and yet Connor could simply feel that this thing was staring right back at him.

The monster's mouth opened to an impossible angle as it let out an ear-piercing shriek. Turning toward them, it loped forward in strides longer than Connor was tall, closing the distance in a fraction of a second.

Screaming again and raising its massive right hand with claws fully splayed, the beast struck.

“MOVE!!”

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 11: The Hunt

The Devils scattered away from the creature, and Connor ducked just as its claws swung at his head. He could almost hear the rush of air displaced by the slashing talons. The monster never even broke its stride. Narrowly missing its target, it planted its front legs on the ground, then whipped its body and hind quarters around to stop its advance and face the group again.

From that one strike, Connor immediately became aware of two crucial details. One: this thing was deceptively fast, and the reach it could achieve made it seem even faster, and two: it reeked beyond anything he thought possible. Close proximity longer than a few seconds was likely enough to make one vomit and leave themselves vulnerable to getting torn to shreds.

Undeterred, the monster made to charge once more, but a pair of noisemaker runestones tossed at its feet detonated. It reared up on its hind legs, wailing in pain at the loud sounds and waving its forelimbs as if to shield its head.

“Go! Go! Spread out!” Connor yelled. If the group stayed clustered together, the next attack would inevitably strike someone.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the Devils spread their wings and took to the air while Connor himself found cover behind the nearest piece of machinery.

“What's happening in there?! Is everyone alright?” Sona demanded.

“We're under attack by… something! I've never seen anything like it!” Tsubaki hastily answered.

“Everyone, keep quiet!” The magus gave a hushed order over the line. “This thing has no eyes, but it can probably still hear and smell us.”

Calming down from the attack on its senses, the creature got back on all fours and scoured the area. With none of its intended prey nearby, it let out a growl and began to lurk its way through the maze of delapidated machinery.

Connor swung around and hid behind the frame of a weaving machine, making sure to keep something between him and the creature.

“What even is that thing?!” The burning question on everyone's minds came from Saji.

“That's no Stray Devil like I've ever seen!”

“It's not a Stray. I'm pretty sure that thing's our kidnapping victim,” Connor answered.

…

“What?!”

“How are you so sure?” Sona asked.

“Look, I'll explain once it isn't moving anymore, so let's just concentrate on making that happen.”

“Connor, watch out!” Tsubasa shouted.

The magus looked up just in time to see the creature charging at him from his left like a raging bull.

'Raidho!'

Shooting Od into his feet, the rune responded and propelled him to the right as he tucked and rolled. Getting back on his feet and darting for the center of the floor where the others could see him, Connor heard the creature scream again and snapped a look back over his shoulder.

The monster had taken another swipe with its left hand, this time raking its claws into the weaving machine and lodging themselves in the main housing. For a split second, Connor could finally see the enormity of the claws through the gaps they left behind.

'Holy shit...'

Angrily shrieking and pulling itself free, it wildly tore into the offending obstacle with both hands. Pieces of plastic and steel chunks were sent flying and crashing into other nearby machinery, drowning out all other sounds until the fit of rage stopped.

The beast climbed over the wreckage and set its focus on Connor once more. It had only taken a few steps toward him when a large block of steel came flying from the eastern wall, slamming into the monster's torso with all the force of an out-of-control truck and momentarily knocking it off balance. In a quick glance to the wall, he noticed Tsubasa, who had flown down to the ground and was currently in the follow through phase of a superpowered fastball.

He flashed a grateful smile before turning back on the monster. Holding his breath, the magus moved into melee range and drew his runic sword from the Magic Crest. In a long slash, he aimed for its closest limb. The weapon cut through the beast's dead flesh as if it were wet paper, but, like a file to hardened steel, it skated right off the bones of its forearm.

'What?!'

The creature groaned from the assault and fell back to get away from the pest. A vicious snarl escaped its lipless mouth before it charged again. Rearing up on its back legs, it delivered a brutal series of swipes and slashes with both arms, exhibiting incredible balance and control even while taking huge strides forward with every strike.

Connor ducked back just as the monstrous rampage began. Plastic, solid steel, rubble – the monster tore up everything in pursuit of its target. The magus could have sworn he saw those claws create sparks as they struck concrete. The monster missed with its first several swipes, which only enraged it further; the last strike almost caught him when the beast practically dove for him.

Abandoning any further attempts at offense, Connor bolted back toward cover. The monster followed his movement, but before it could give chase, a bolt of demonic energy struck it in the back. It howled and spun around to face what struck it. It found nothing, for the blast didn't come from behind, but above.

“Lochlainn, are you alright?”

The beast's head snapped up and in Tsubaki's direction. She did likewise when the monster shrieked and gave an enormous leap upward, throwing its right arm out to grab her.

“Fukukaichō!” Reya screamed.

“Mirror Alice!” In a panic, the Vice-President manifested a large mirror before herself. The moment the giant hand touched it, the beast was sent careening back to the factory floor. It hit the ground hard, flailing and rolling a fair distance before scraping and clawing its way back onto its feet.

“Back up, back up!”

The Devils hovered away toward the entrance of the factory and stopped by the large broken window that was positioned high up on the wall.

“Well, this sucks,” Connor commented, ducking out of sight.

For a brief moment, he wondered if what Tsubaki did was a spell or a Sacred Gear. He'd have to ask later. Putting his back against a large dye press, he let out a shaky breath and collected his thoughts.

Much of what Connor knew about fighting came from his grandfather, his father, and his sensei, the retired Army Ranger. He had even gone as far as incorporate and emulate modern military tactics in his use of magecraft, as least as far as direct combat went. Unfortunately, military strategems don't cover how to handle giant monstrosities born from necromancy.

He could see very few options for dealing with this monster, and none of them were favorable. Retreat was a definite 'no.' If it escaped the factory or followed them out and into town, the civilian death toll would be catastrophic, and all attempts by law enforcement or the JSDF to stop it would just add to the pile of bodies left in its wake.

With a typical undead, the only classification that made sense with this creature, there was no conscious thought, no rationale or strategy behind whatever existed in their empty heads – just a basic, mindless drive to kill and consume, over and over again. As a result, even if it did have eyes, he didn't believe his Mystic Eyes would be of any help, since this thing probably had no mind to interpret.

Another thing about the undead was that they still relied on the body's functions to move, barring any supernatural force directing them like a puppet. The three major components for movement in anything with an endoskeleton were the cerebellum, the brain stem and the spinal cord. Destroying any one of the three would cause paralysis, if not immediately kill.

Considering how unnaturally dense its skeleton was, trying to cut the spinal cord would be a gamble. You only had one shot to thread the needle between the vertebrae. Missing would just result in getting your weapon stuck. Add in the fact that this thing acted more like a rabid animal than an undead, decapitating it only seemed feasible once it stopped thrashing around. That left a solid hit to the base of the skull as being the only possible way to truly put it down, and that was if one could find the right spot under those ghastly flaps of necrotic skin.

He knew he wouldn't be able to make that kind of shot with it moving around so much, but someone else just might be able to snipe it, if they had a good angle.

Connor slipped off his jacket, emptied its inner pockets and coiled it around his lower face in a makeshift mask. Securing his spare armaments and double-checking his runestone supply, the magus then peeked out from his hiding spot.

The beast was groaning and pacing in frustration while staring up at the unattainable prey hovering near the roof. It was as if he had been completely forgotten the moment Tsubaki attacked it. A very exploitable behavior.

'I can work with that.'

---

This Stray Devil hunt had gone so far off the rails, Reya was at a complete loss of what to do.

Tonight, she came prepared for a grisly torture scene or perhaps just the Stray sitting down and feasting on whatever he took from his victims. What they got was something beyond her worst nightmare.

She almost felt her heart leap out of her chest when the creature jumped for Tsubaki. And while she had no objection to following the order to get as far away from it as possible, she didn't want to go far enough away to lose sight of Connor.

The roof of the factory was high enough that a flying Devil could evade a strike from the monster, but only just. Their magus companion, however, had no such safety net as flight. He was stuck on the ground with that thing, and couldn't get away without alerting it to his position, that is, if it really could hear. For the moment, it was focused on them, but there was no telling for how long. Maybe if someone could–

“Guys, listen up. I've got an idea:” Connor's voice came over the comm line, interrupting Reya's train of thought. “Hit it from a distance if you can, and aim for the back of its head. I'll hold its attention for as long as possible so you can get a clear shot. ”

“You'll hol– What're you talking about?” Saji whispered back. “Just hang on, we're coming to get you.”

“No, stay back. We need it focused, so I'm giving it something to hunt.”

“Connor?” Reya asked, noticing the edge in his tone.

There was no answer, until Connor had stepped out from behind a derelict machine, a red-bladed sword in his hand and his face wrapped up in the jacket he'd been wearing earlier.

'What is he doing?'

Her eyes widened when he pulled down his 'mask,' and gave a sharp whistle. The sound was answered with an angry screech. The malformed beast turned back around to view Connor standing in the center of the floor with no cover near him.

Reya watched in trepidation as the monster stalked toward the human. It did so much more slowly than before, taking its time as it trudged forward. Sorely tempted was she now to rush forward and pull her friend away from this nonsense. Surely he understood that they, as Devils, were more than adequate to face this monster. And if it needed a diversion, one of them could do the job.

So why was he trying to do it by himself?!

“Lochlainn, stop this! Get away!” Tsubaki ordered through the comm.

He wasn't listening.

The monster stopped well within reach of Connor and lifted its right arm, splaying out its hand once again. The fingers themselves were large enough to wrap around a person's head, and the claws could cut through steel with ease, evidenced by the pile of scrap metal that was once an industrial machine.

Connor jumped back before its long sideways swipe could connect, tossing something on the ground in his wake and turning his head away from it. Whatever it was he threw in front of the beast exploded in a flash of white and a loud blast that hurt even her ears from a distance. The monster reared back and shrieked, again using its arms to try and shield its head.

The magus then ran his left hand down the flat of his sword. The red blade seemed to come to life, coating itself in fire as he pulled his hand away. Bringing the sword around to hold it over his head, he gave a powerful downward swing and sent an arc of fire straight at the beast.

Clumps of oily fur on the creature's body were instantly set ablaze as the arc swept over it, sending the beast into a frenzy. Agonized shrieks tore from its throat, making the entire factory –and everyone's skulls– rattle with their intensity. In its panicked state, the monster slashed wildly here and there, forcing Connor to take a few more steps back.

He ducked back out of immediate view, and as he did, his plan became clear to the Bishop. He truly was trying to present them with an easy target, but at the same time, he was probing it for weaknesses and trying to find out what they could use to their advantage.

The monster thrashed and tore at its own skin, vainly attempting to get the burning matted hair off itself. In doing so, the vile fluid that had been spilling from its body was flung about, splattering and sticking on everything it touched. Some of those splatters were burning as well, which added yet another threat to the mix.

For another few seconds, the beast flailed about until the fires from its body and the scattered 'blood' died down. Getting back on all fours, it let out another guttural growl and scoured the floor. With its prey nowhere to be found, it began to skulk its way through the maze of machinery in search of him.

Watching it walk sent a chill down Reya's spine. It was so unreal for something to even be moving like that. She didn't understand how Connor could think that this was the abducted maid. Even the most mutated of Strays bore some resemblance to who they once were, and could at least communicate, but this thing… There was no sentience to be found. Furthermore, she was a pure-blooded servant of House Shax, so a transformation this grotesque shouldn't be possible!

After a tense few moments, Connor came back into view, moving silently across the floor. His clothes, hair, and the once visible parts of his face and arms were now stained with old grease. As he passed by them, he looked up and put a finger to his masked lips. Going back behind another machine, he pulled down his mask again and gave another whistle.

The monster responded quickly, loping out from the labyrinth of metal to investigate. It hadn't noticed where exactly he was, but it did notice the wrench Connor tossed into the empty center of the floor before taking cover again. Trotting toward the noise but finding nothing, it glanced around for a moment before rearing up and swaying its body back and forth like it did when they first saw it.

Seeing this, Reya realized something else. Connor had said the monster didn't have eyes and relied on hearing and smell. With all the waving around it was doing, it would give them a rough idea of where to aim their attacks to the back of its head while it was searching for him.

He wasn't trying to fight it, he was playing a high-stakes game of hide-and-seek with it!

A smile spread across her lips at the effective simplicity of this plan. She would congratulate her friend, then scold him for using himself as bait later. Waiting until the beast had turned to face away from them, she quietly conjuring the Sitri magic circle, she readied the most accurate spell she knew and took aim at the monster, waiting for the right moment.

Suddenly, a high-speed bullet of water shot from the broken window, striking the beast in its back. Its vile 'blood' gushed out of its grisly new wound as the creature stumbled forward from the impact, then turned to scream at the source of the newest attack. Following the trajectory, Reya witnessed Sona along with Momo and Ruruko enter the building with wings deployed.

Sona wore a very uncharacteristic scowl, and her hands were balled into fists. What exactly her King was angry about, Reya had a fairly good idea.

“Kaichō?”

“Enough of this! Tsubasa, Tomoe, Saji, get down there and make sure Connor is alright. Everyone else, with me. Provide covering fire and keep it from escaping. We are putting this abomination down, now!”

“Hai!”

---

Connor clicked his tongue at Sona's missed shot. If it had hit a few centimeters higher, it would have punched into its head and ended the whole ordeal right then.

Three of the Devils broke off from the group while the others stayed in the air to begin bombarding the monster. Magic circles bearing the Sitri insignia, as he assumed it to be, appeared in clusters before Sona and the rest of her group, launching a barrage of magic bullets.

Having Sona taking command and wage war on the beast in her own way was a double-edged sword. On one hand, she brought more firepower against the monster and could take some of the pressure off Connor, but on the other hand, his current plan of killing it in one blow was officially scrapped. Baiting it around the factory wasn't going to work now that the creature was under continuous attack.

Hearing something land beside him, Connor turned to address the new arrivals.

“So, I guess we're not gonna be smart about this, huh?” he asked in slight agitation.

“Kaichō's orders supersede yours, tough guy. This is our fight, too, and she wants us to make sure you don't get yourself killed,” Tsubasa rebutted with one hand covering her nose and mouth.

Connor glanced to the other two. They were likewise protecting their face with what they could, but he could see that they were just as determined to be there as Tsubasa was. Their loyalty to their King was splendid, even if foolish in the face of such an unknown threat.

The magus groaned in resignation. “Fine, but keep your face covered and stay the hell away from that thing. Sona, you there?”

“It's about time you answered! What were you thinking?” The demanding tone of her question briefly overshadowed the relief he could hear in her voice.

“I was, and still am, thinking on my feet here. Pretty sure this wasn't exactly on tonight's itinerary.”

“Perhaps not, but neither was you brazenly putting yourself at risk like that.”

“O ye of little faith, Sona. I didn't survive what I have until now just to die to this ugly bastard.”

“Then I presume you have a strategy to deal with it?”

“I'm making it up as I go along, but for starters, don't use fire magic and don't let anyone get near it until we can go for the kill. We all have to rush it at the same time to overwhelm it. For now, just keep hitting it from where you are while I figure out how to slow it down.”

“Very well. Should you think of something, my servants will provide assistance.”

“Much appreciated,” he said before turning to the three beside him. “Alright, people, mask up. You'll need both hands for what's next.”

Tsubasa promptly complied, grabbing her corset by the front and tearing it off in a single pull before tying it roughly around her face. Judging by the lack of surprise on Tomoe and Saji's faces, removing clothing for a real fight must be old hat for the bluenette.

Connor turned his attention to the Knight and Pawn, both of whom had more neatly unfastened their respective outer layers of clothing to use as their masks.

“Save your sword for later, Tomoe. Got a job for you in the meantime.” He pointed to the machine that stood taller than those beside it, near where the monster had exited the line. “There should be a couple cans of industrial grease by that press over there. Get them and come back here, quickly.”

“Um… okay.”

Doing as instructed, the girl sheathed her katana and bolted for the ordained machines and came back with the two cans in question. Her speed really was something to be reckoned with; she wasn't even gone for three seconds.

Taking the cans from Tomoe's hands, he then held them out for all three.

“Now, slather up.”

“What?”

Acting immediately, Tsubasa grabbed a can and scooped up a handful of grease, then began smearing it all across Tomoe's face and neck with a saucy smile adorning her own visage. The Knight squeaked but otherwise completely froze, shocked by both the coldness of the grease and her friend's audacity at not warning her.

“T-T-Tsu…”

“Oh, hush, it'll wash off,” the Rook playfully chided.

“Is this really necessary?” Saji asked, glancing away from the oddly stimulating scene.

“It's the best way for us to lose our scent in here,” Connor reasoned. “We have to take away that thing's ability to find us easily. It might be able to hear us still, but it can't tell us apart from the machines if we smell like them.”

The Pawn thought for a moment before nodding and beginning his own treatment, letting out a shudder when his hands touched his face.

While the three doctored themselves up, Connor took another peek around the corner to view the battle. Sona, Ruruko and the Bishops hovered in a tight formation, raining down bullets of magic in rapid succession while Tsubaki placed herself between them and the monster. Her mirror spell seemed to be the most effective countermeasure for it, but the monster appeared to have understood that as well. Presently, it was focusing intently on the group, and showing no signs of vulnerability.

They needed a hand.

“Tsubasa,” he cast a glance to the grease-stained Rook, “help the others out from the ground. It just goes after whatever hits it last, so keep your distance and don't stay in the open for too long.”

She nodded, then stepped out and began circling the beast, picking up a piece of metal from the floor and throwing it at full strength toward the confounded monster's shoulder. In a repeat of before, the creature was stricken off-balance. Tsubasa had ducked back behind another machine just as it regained its footing. It only searched for her briefly, before another blast of magic tore into its back and broke its focus.

“Connor, we are not having much effect here,” Sona reported. “This monster is somehow resistant to our magic. Is that plan of yours coming along well?”

“I told you, I'm working on it! Just keep it busy!”

'Damn, we really do have to get in close to kill it, don't we?'

“Tomoe, you're up again.” Beckoning the redhead to him, he sent magical energy into a pair of Black Keys to manifest their blades, Reinforce them, and start applying the correct runes to the hilts. With the exception of the tip, Black Keys weren't all that sharp or durable, even if they could be strengthened enough to pierce steel and concrete.

“Quick question: How good are you with throwing weapons?”

The now-less-than bubbly ball of sunshine blinked. “Um… I'm not, but Tsubasa is.”

“I can believe that,” he said with a hidden smile. “Alright, take these to her and tell her to throw them into its chest. I've got these two and six more. They should stay on their own, but if she can get them stuck in its ribs, even better.” He would have done this himself, but after seeing how good of a throwing arm the Rook had, he was confident she had a much better chance of making the next part of his plan work.

“Okay.” The Knight took the Spiritual Weapons in her hands and gave them a scrutinizing look. “Whoa, these things are weird. Are you sure they're good for throwing?”

“Trust me, they're made for it. Just tell Tsubasa to throw them like she would a knife. Go!” Without another word, she took off to join in on the ruckus of battle, leaving the two boys still in cover.

“Alright, Saji, what's your gimmick? What can you do?” While he talked, Connor procured a second pair of Keys and got started engraving them.

“Huh? Oh, I got this,” the blonde said, lifting his left arm.

A purple light flashed, and a black metallic gauntlet appeared on his wrist. At first glance, it looked like a frilled lizard or a chameleon of some kind giving his arm a death grip with its own six limbs and long tail. Large purple eyes stared blankly forward, and a broad line formed a golden band across its back.

“Sacred Gear?”

“Yep,” he nodded with a hint of pride. “It's called Absorption Line, a fragment of Vritra, the Prison Dragon. With this, I can attach a magic line to an enemy and drain their energy.”

Connor noted the mention of Vritra, but huffed lightly. “Heh. Not sure if you want to drain that of anything, but if you can hold it in place, then–”

“Connor!”

“Gaah!”

Before he could finish, Tomoe returned empty-handed. The manner in which she suddenly reappeared and practically barked in the magus' ear made him jump.

“Dammit, woman! I almost took a swing at you!”

“But, you said to come back.”

“I know, I know.” He took a peek around the machine to see the monster stumbling with two new additions in its rib cage. “Okay, good. Keep up the pace.” Tossing the new Keys to her, the Knight deftly caught them and set off for another run.

“What about me?” Saji asked.

“If it'll hold still long enough, I want you to try and get a line on its head or neck, but not yet. Oh, and do that Promotion thing to Rook, you're gonna need the added strength.”

“I can't. I have to get the order from Kaichō to Promote.”

“Wha– Then get it, hurry!” He may have sounded more snappish than he intended, but this was just too much.

'You're joking. They need permission to power up? What's next, you can't even save your own life without asking for Big Brother's blessing?!'

The more he learned about Devils, the more glad he was that he turned down the offer to become one. Every new detail just seemed to add another downside to it.

“Kaichō, we've got a game plan. Requesting permission to Promote.”

“Granted.”

“Thank you. Promotion: Rook!”

Connor watched the process but, aside from a slight pulse of magic, he didn't sense anything different.

Tomoe returned shortly and grabbed another pair of Keys. The process repeated two more times until Connor ran out of Keys to pass on. Now out of armaments, Tsubasa and Tomoe rejoined their Pawn companion and the magus.

The Rook had made a pincushion out of the beast. Wedged in between its ribs at odd angles, the eight Keys stayed firmly in place as the monster thrashed and loped about to get away from its aerial attackers.

“Now what?” the bluenette asked.

“This. Cover your eyes, and Saji, get ready to grab it.”

“Okay!” He and the two girls shielded their eyes while the mouth of the lizard-like Gear on Saji's wrist opened up.

“Everybody clear!” The magus yelled, momentarily drawing the monster's notice.

Seeing the others all back up or take cover, Connor lifted his hand and activated the trigger.

'Hagalaz!'

The rune representing destruction flashed on every Black Key's pommel and, as one, the blades violently detonated. Sacraments became directional explosives as shards of metal propelled by magical energy tore through the beast's flesh and sent 'blood' and gore flying in all directions. The force generated from the explosion threw the creature onto its back with a surprised shriek.

Unfortunately, it didn't stay down for long. The monster rolled back onto its feet within a second of hitting the ground, allowing Connor and the others to observe the damage. The blasts had ripped apart much of its chest cavity, 'blood' now falling to the floor in torrents, but the skeleton was still completely intact. Even worse, after all that, the thing was still fully mobile and screaming even louder than before!

“You have got to be kidding me!” the magus snarled, grimacing from the now piercing wails. He'd hoped that blowing it up from the inside would damage its spine somehow and make it easier to land a killing blow. So much for that.

“How is it still…?!” he heard Tomoe utter in disbelief.

“Dammit… change of plan, Saji, we're–”

“Absorption Line!”

A glowing blue ray suddenly extended from over Connor and looped around the monster's neck, snapping tight under its jaw and pulling hard.

“I got it!”

“No, let it go!”

His warning came too late; the monster grabbed the line with its front teeth and yanked its head in the opposite direction. The blonde Pawn was thrown off his feet and pulled headfirst toward the creature, flying over his compatriots' heads before Connor could even reach out to grab him.

Landing roughly in the monster's range of attack, he glanced up to see it glaring down at him with those empty pits. Sensing a new victim, the monster raised its clawed hand up and over the Devil before it.

“Genshirou!”

“Crap!” Saji scrambled to get up and move, but the Rook Promotion was impeding his speed.

Before it could strike, a combined blast of magic from three different sources tore into the creature's back, pushing it to the ground and interrupting the attack. A green and brown blur flew into view and swooped down to tackle Saji aside. As it fell, the beast threw its hand out in an attempt to steady itself.

“AAGH!”

A sharp cry could be heard, but it didn't come from the beast.

The flying duo came to a stop several meters away, with Ruruko gritting her teeth and looking down at her leg.

'Damn, did it get her?'

Connor looked back to the monster, and his eyes widened. Instead of chasing after its prey, it actually stood completely still to sniff the air. Following its 'nose,' it leaned down and began fervently trying to lap up something from the floor, like a dog dying of thirst.

It had finally left itself completely open.

“NOW'S OUR CHANCE! PIN IT DOWN!”

Grabbing a steel beam on the floor, Tsubasa gave a roar and brought it down like a club across the center of the beast's back, flattening it to the ground. Large rivets of water, conjured courtesy of Sona, rained down upon its knees and ankles, jamming into the joints and effectively immobilizing the back legs.

Tsubaki charged from above with her own weapon as well, a naginata, and thrust the blade through the monster's right wrist and into the floor. The massive appendage was now impaled, with the Queen using her enhanced strength to stomp its hand and hold it in place.

The Rook then ran up and grabbed the bones of its left wrist and forearm, hoisted the arm and pulled it taut against the limb Tsubaki was pinning, stretching out its upper frame. The beast wailed and struggled, but couldn't rip itself free from either restraint.

“Tomoe, go for the head! I'm right behind you!”

The Knight sped to the monster's face and ran her sword through one of its empty eye sockets, spraying sticky 'blood' onto the blade and her hands. It wailed in pain and tried to lurch forward and take a bite out of her, but Tsubasa pulled harder on its left arm to keep it from moving an inch.

“CONNOR, HURRY!!”

As the final stroke, using Tomoe's position as a guide, Connor sprinted forward and leaped onto the beast's back. He felt his feet sink into its rotting flesh until he came to a stop on its shoulder blades. The sensation was revolting, but he pushed through it and ignited the light sword he'd been holding out on using, stabbing the blade into what he hoped was the junction of the skull and the neck. Much like Tomoe, his efforts were met with a large splatter of 'blood' to the face and very nearly into his eyes.

The monster lurched and gurgled for a moment, then collapsed and fell still.

…

…

…

For a time, all was quiet until Saji shakily spoke.

“Did… Did that do that? Is it dead?”

The magus twisted his weapon and stabbed two more times, trying to draw a reaction and check for unwanted second winds. Tomoe followed his example, withdrawing her sword and giving a kick to its cranium before backing up.

There was no movement of any kind. The creature was well and truly deceased.

Taking no chances, Connor set to work on ensuring its death. Quickly cutting away the flaps of skin and revealing the monster's contorted neck, he brought his blade along the base of the skull and sliced across. Due to its enormous fangs, the head didn't roll very far once separated from its body.

A collective sigh of relief emanated from everyone, none contributing more so than Connor. Stepping off the creature's back and onto solid ground, he disengaged his weapon and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, sorely tempted to rip the jacket from around his face. Over to the left, he saw Tsubaki retch and heave, having gotten too close to the monster without a face covering.

He could go without having to fight another of those things in ten lifetimes. But what was this–

“Ruruko!”

His thoughts were short-lived as Momo's worried cry echoed in the factory. Looking up, he saw Momo and Saji hovering over a whimpering Ruruko. The first-year was squirming from pain, and her breathing was labored.

“What happened?” he asked as he approached them.

“Her ankle's been cut. One of that thing's claws must've caught her when she flew down to grab Genshirou. But, it just barely grazed her. One little cut shouldn't be doing this.”

Connor looked back to the corpse and noticed a small trail of blood going from Ruruko's leg to directly underneath the monster where it had stopped to lick the floor.

'Shit, of course it was just after blood! It drank Carlisle dry.'

“Here, let me see.” Connor knelt down beside the Pawn and place the back of his hand against her forehead. He almost flinched at the high fever she was running. “Okay, hold on.”

Moving to her leg, he took hold of it in both hands –one above and one below– and closed his eyes.

“What're you doing?”

“Getting a better look.”

Pushing Od into his hands and releasing it from his fingertips, the magus plotted out a mental map of the girl's leg. In his mind's eye, he could see everything as if it were displayed in a layered cross-section; the bones, the muscles, the nerves, the blood vessels, the connective tissues and the skin. Comparatively speaking, it was like looking at a diagram from a medical textbook in real time.

Towards the middle of Ruruko's calf, Connor noticed that the nerves were reacting harshly to something, appearing unnaturally red where they normally would be white. The further down her leg that his mental picture traveled, following the source, the more and more enraged the nerves appeared. Soon enough, the skin, muscles and blood vessels showed similar discolorations. Coming to a stop at the cut, he directed more Od into his hands to magnify the image.

In an instant, he saw… hundreds of pill-shaped microbes multiplying and attaching to whatever they touched.

No… not attaching…

Consuming.

The magus' eyes snapped open.

“Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

“Massive bacterial infection! She needs emergency medical care now!”

“W-What?!”

“Tsubaki, Reya, take her and teleport to the best hospital in my family's territory, and tell them to spare no expense,” Sona immediately ordered. The urgency she could hear in Connor's voice told her that this was not something to argue over.

“Y-Yes, Kaichō!” Both girls acknowledged. Momo stood up and moved away before the Sitri family circle appeared underneath the injured girl.

“Wait, wait!” Connor's exclamation stopped them as he pointed to the monster. “Those hands need to be wrapped up and sent as well. Your doctors need to know what they're dealing with.”

“We can send them shortly. You two, get her to the hospital, now.”

A bright light shined around them, and the three girls were gone when the light died down.

“Tomoe, Saji, help Mr. Connor deal with the hands. Momo, you and I will contain them for transport,” Sona ordered her remaining servants, who quickly complied. Tomoe and Connor drew their weapons once more and set to work cutting the hands off, weaving the blades in between the bones of the wrist and the forearm.

“Do not touch the claws, they're the source,” Connor warned.

“The source of what?! What the hell's going on?!” Saji yelled, “What's happening to Ruruko?!”

“I'll be honest, Saji. I don't know. These things are coated in some really, nasty, shit. She'd immediately contracted it… whatever 'it' is, when it cut her.” Connor stood back and allowed for Momo to encapsulate the now severed left hand in a transparent blue magic orb.

“How do you know that?” Sona demanded. “No excuses or sass, Mr. Lochlainn. I want the truth.”

“In magecraft, we have a very basic spell called Structural Grasp. It allows us to discern the construction of physical objects on a cellular level. I felt what was happening in her leg, Sona; a bacterial infection was spreading at a rapidly accelerating pace, almost like a poison. The only kind I know of that's capable of moving that quickly is necrotizing fasciitis. Flesh-eating bacteria.”

Sona's eyes widened. “Are you saying that is what she has?”

“We just fought for our lives against a giant, walking corpse with an explosion-proof skeleton, resistance to magic and an endless supply of blood that burned like gasoline. Honestly, disease-ridden claws are something we should not have been surprised by.”

“W-what about antibiotics? It's a bacteria, right? Can't that stop it?” Saji cut in desperately.

“No, Saji, necrotizing fasciitis has an average twenty-five percent mortality rate, and is guaranteed fatal if left untreated.” His King's answer made the blonde's eyes widen. “Antibiotics can only slow it down until surgery to remove the infection can take place.”

'Not like any of us brought some to begin with, and they can't restore what's already been destroyed.'

“Regardless of what it is, Saji, our best doctors will be with her.”

“Meanwhile, we need to decontaminate,” Connor stated. “We can't take any chances before shipping the claws off.”

“I have just the spell for that.”

Placing her hands before her as if in prayer, Sona inhaled and exhaled loudly, then clapped her hands and spread them out to her sides with the palms facing down. The Sitri magic circle suddenly appeared under everyone's feet, including Connor.

A sense of weightlessness overcame the magus, almost like he was submerged and floating in the middle of a swimming pool. Looking down at his arms, he saw bits of 'blood' and machine grease rise up and off of his skin, which then drifted in the air for a short while and finally dissolved. He watched with intrigue as the process continued across his entire body, the cleansing spell seeming to gently peel away all manner of detritus.

For about another minute, the spell did its work until Sona clapped her hands again and dispelled the circles, along with the floating feeling. Connor looked himself over, then to the others, and found that not a speck of grime was left on him or anybody else.

“That was… different,” he commented, his skin feeling cool to the touch.

“Tsubaki was born to a family of mystics that pacify spirits,” Sona explained. “She taught me how to remove impurities from one's body shortly after becoming my Queen, and I created my own version that is able to be cast upon multiple people.”

Connor nodded in thought.

If that were true, then Tsubaki's family must have practiced Onmyōdō at some point in its history. While a difficult Thaumaturgical System for anyone outside of Japan to learn, it was not impossible if one could find the right teacher. Sadly, the practice was outlawed by the Japanese government in the mid-1800s, and those who studied it were forced to vanish into the crowd, thereafter disguising their work as either family tradition or spiritualism.

'Shinra… I might have to look them up some time.'

“Momo, tell the doctors that we suspect necrotizing fasciitis to be the culprit, then come back and help with the cleanup,” Sona ordered.

With a nod, the Bishop teleported with the monster's packaged hands in tow. Once the circle was gone, the Devil heiress turned to Connor, who groaned inwardly at the stern gaze she gave him.

“Now then, Mr. Lochlainn, what possessed you to try and fight that monster by yourself?”

The magus suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at having to once again explain himself.

“The idea was to present you guys with a good enough target at a range that it couldn't attack you. For that to happen, it needed to focus on something other than you, so I had to present it with something much simpler to reach: a target on the ground.”

“Why did you not wait for us to come and help you with that? Or tell us that you were in possession of a weapon commonly used by the Holy Church?”

“While I appreciate the concern, Sona, I didn't charge in blindly. Undead don't have much of a mind, but they do have an attention span that can be exploited so long as you can control what they sense. As for your second question, I didn't tell you because it wouldn't have mattered. A weapon is a weapon. I just have this one because it's practical.”

The Devil heiress wanted to press the matter, but another thought stopped her. “You said that it was an undead, yes? ”

Connor looked back to the body. “Well, the fact that it died like one is proof that it was an undead. Its behavior threw me for a loop, though, so I was just running on a theory. I got the notion from reading Carlisle's journal, it's somewhere around here. To put it simply, he lost his mind due to sleeping problems and was trying to find a way to stay awake for long periods of time. Thing is, he used a ritual based on a necromancer's notes he stole from one of his victims. A ritual he screwed up, obviously, since it turned the maid he kidnapped into… that.”

“Necromancer?”

“They're a kind of magus whose research typically revolves around death,” he summarized.

“Wait, don't necromancers rob graves and defile tombs and all that?” Tsubasa curiously joined in the questioning.

“No; far from it, actually. Tombs and catacombs make for ideal places for them to hide out and conduct their research, but they don't mess with the contents as much as you'd think. Curses are very real, and they know better than anyone the power of cursed tombs. They prefer their working material fresh anyway, like say… where no one would be the wiser if they made off with the corpses of people killed in wars or natural disasters. That's why sometimes people end up 'missing' during such events. Not all the time, but it's a perfect cover.”

More than one of the Devils grimaced at the thought.

“Have you met one before?” Sona asked.

“No, but my grandpa did. His story about that encounter was enough to make me not want to meet one, especially now.”

The Sitri circle appeared on the ground and erupted in light as Momo returned from her delivery. Tsubaki and Reya were beside her, both having been cleaned of gore and muck, clad in the Kuoh athletics t-shirts and bloomers.

'Again, why the uniforms?'

“Kaichō, the doctors have come to the same conclusion we did. They've given her antibiotics and are preparing for surgery as we speak. She'll be going under within the hour.”

“Good. Are all of you well?”

“Yes, Kaichō, we're fine.” Tsubaki reassured. “We underwent decontamination after dropping off Ruruko-chan, and have all been checked out. Tomoe decided to stay with her until the surgery.”

“Good…Very good…” Sona muttered, placing a hand over her heart and taking a slow breath before wincing at the still ambient odor. “Now, let's get to cleaning this place up before we leave.”

“If you don't mind, Sona, can I leave that to you guys?”

“And what will you be doing, Mr. Lochlainn?” she asked suspiciously.

“Putting the puzzle together. I saw Saji and Tomoe were picking up something before all hell broke loose. Figured it was important, and I might be able to figure out where Carlisle went wrong if I had all the pieces. Besides, if I tried to help with cleanup here, I'd just get in the way.”

The King thought it over briefly before she nodded. “I see. Saji?”

“Huh? Uh, I…” Sona's call to the Pawn snapped him out of the daze he'd been in. “Y-yeah, I think they… they looked like formula sheets or something… I think they're over there, somewhere.” He pointed to the corner of the floor relatively untouched by the recent battle. Connor was about to break off from the group and look around, but Saji stopped him with a pleading look.

“Was… was there nothing we could do… for Ruruko?”

“We did what we could for her, Saji, and that was to get her to better help quickly. The rest is up to her and the doctors.”

It was a lackluster comfort, but it was the most honest answer he could give at the moment.

“Dammit…” Saji muttered. Looking down, Connor saw the blonde Pawn's fists clenched so tightly that they were shaking. “Why didn't I just…”

“Genshirou, what happened was not your fault.” Momo approached him and place a hand on his shoulder to try and reassure him, but Saji shrugged off her hand.

“YES, IT WAS!” he yelled. “I never should've tried to use Absorption Line! I got cocky, I thought I could… I… dammit! DAMMIT!” He turned and stormed toward the front door. He must have forgotten to turn off his Rook Promotion, because he almost tore the door off in his anger.

“Saji, where are you going?”

“Outside! I just… I need to be alone!”

As Saji slammed the main door behind him, Connor looked between the remaining Devils to gauge their reaction to the outburst. From his brief interactions with the Pawn, he'd gleaned that the guy was somewhat brash and a tad pompous toward other guys, but he was unflappably loyal to Sona and would never normally speak out against her.

Hearing him not address Sona as 'Kaichō' when she called for him showed that he was upset enough to disregard etiquette.

In a way, what happened was Connor's own fault. Granted, Saji had jumped the gun and acted at a bad time, but the magus was the one that told Saji to try and wrangle the monster in the first place on the assumption his plan to paralyze it succeeded. Factors that led to the creature's true death aside, Saji wasn't to blame for Ruruko's condition, but he wasn't in the mood to hear reason.

“Let him be,” Connor told Momo. The white-haired Bishop looked at the taller human. “He won't do anything stupid, but he's frustrated and needs to vent. Take whatever he might say or do right now with a grain of salt. Once he's calmed down enough to listen, then you talk to him.”

The look in her eyes changed as she turned to face him fully.

“How can you be so calm about this? Ruruko could still die, and you're acting like nothing's wrong! Who does that?!” Her voice was shaky, like she was barely holding it together from worry.

“I never said or implied that all was well with the world, Momo.” Connor answered evenly. “I'm just trying to keep my mind off of it all. What good are we going to do for Ruruko here by worrying about this and that and whatever else that's beyond us currently? Like I told Saji, we did everything we could.”

“I know, but…”

“Let me ask you:” he continued with the same tone, “If saving the life of a peerage member, a family member, or your King herself, came down to doing something drastic, like cutting off both legs or both arms or, Root forbid, all their limbs, would you do it?”

Momo froze and her eyes widened with horror at the very thought of being forced to harm someone she cared about. At the same time, Sona and her other servants were listening in on the conversation as they went about cleaning up the scene, slowing down when Connor gave his question.

“Of course, do everything you can to make sure you never have to make a decision like that, but if it comes to it, don't hesitate. Time becomes your worst enemy in moments of crisis. That split-second where you do nothing could cost you more than you ever want to pay, and it will haunt you for life.”

That much, he truly did know from experience. Having watched his grandfather suffer the stroke that killed him, Connor knew full well the regret that came from inaction. There was nothing anyone could have done to stop it, but with how fast it happened, the shock and the unbridled fear he felt in those few seconds never faded with time.

Then there was Issei's murder. Sure, he didn't know the kid then like he did now, and what little he knew then left a somewhat negative impression, but the fact remained that he watched from the sidelines as Issei died. Connor had run that scenario in his head over and over for several days after it happened and came to one conclusion: Nothing would have changed even if the magus did intervene in time. If Raynare didn't end up killing him, one of the others would have done it themselves.

“I'm not saying any of this to sound like I've got all the answers, because I don't. Take it from someone who's been in yours and Saji's position before and needed the exact same talk from my dad: We would all regret not acting sooner to save Ruruko's life. Right now, she has a chance to survive – and an even better one if the doctors act fast, so let's just take the victories where we find them. Tell Saji that much when you talk with him. You and I both know that tonight could've been so much worse.”

He left it at that, going back to his previous task and allowing the Bishop to think things over.

Sifting through the trash, dust and dirt, he eventually ended up with close to a dozen pages of notes. Comparing them against Carlisle's journal entries and the ritual circle, he understood now where things went wrong.

First of all, there was the blood. The notes didn't call for any particular species or animal to draw it from, but a rule of thumb among magi in the use of blood was to never try to mix and match, even if whatever spell or ritual one was working on called for large quantities. Carlisle screwed that up by not verifying the different types of his three sources. Connor didn't know what species the rogue Bishop's victims originally were before reincarnation, but cross-contaminating the harvested blood seemed to stimulate a mutative effect on the subject.

Secondly, the circle itself was all wrong. Between the notes and the actual circle, the number of errors was baffling. Everything from the mismatched symbols, to the lack of grounding matrices on the nearest leyline was incorrect. The latter meant that Carlisle was using his own magic instead of utilizing the magical energy from the Earth itself to stabilize the ritual, corrupting the process even further.

And thirdly was the most egregious error of all: Carlisle had used a living subject. Necromancers never did that. In fact, nowhere in the notes did it say that a live subject was needed; the journal and the notes completely contradicted one another, which made Connor wonder if the Bishop was either stupid or so far off his rocker that he just imagined it. Add to that, the subject in question was a Devil, already stronger and tougher than a human, so whatever changes that came about from this ritual just made the resulting monster even stronger.

It was a perfect storm of mistakes: The sleep deprivation, the mixture of Devils' blood, the use of an unfamiliar form of magic, and the nature of the subject all culminated into the disastrous creation of a bestial undead behemoth.

He reported all of this to Sona and turned over the notes, advising to destroy them so the same mistakes wouldn't be repeated. Highly unlikely, but he wanted to be sure, and the Sitri heiress was of the same mind.

Once Sona and her peerage had finished with cleaning up as much of the factory and the creature's remains as possible, they were left with another problem. All of the fleshy organic matter was safely destroyed, but the skeleton remained undamaged, much to the surprise of all but the magus. The bones were so dense, in fact, that even Tsubasa had to put considerable effort into breaking a single rib. The King spent several moments deliberating with her servants about how best to dispose of what was left.

“We may end up having to take it all to the Underworld so more dedicated equipment can destroy it.”

“I could take a few of those off your hands.”

The magus' offer was met with incredulous stares. He held up his hands to stop the coming objections.

“Before you say anything, let me set the record straight: Necromancers aren't the only magi that use bones for their research and experiments. Even centuries ago, it was very commonplace to use bone ash to process alloys, and their natural durability makes them ideal for carving into simple tools.” (1)

“Mr. Lochlainn, was it not you that just told me of Carlisle's error in trifling with matters he didn't understand?” Sona reminded, to which Connor nodded.

“That I did, and I have neither the intent nor the means to create another one of those things.”

“Then why the interest?”

“Because it's too good to pass up. Tsubasa had a tough time just to break that one rib, and my sword can normally cut through bone without issue, but look at this.”

Approaching the skeleton, he picked up the radius and ulna of the monster's right forearm. Up close, both bones had to be longer than his own femur and just about as thick. Turning to face the group, he then showed to them how little damage he had done at the start. It took several seconds for them to find what he was talking about, and all that could be seen was the smallest of indents across the otherwise smooth surface of the ulna.

“That was my attempt. I gave up on attacking it directly when I saw that fighting it wouldn't do anything except put me in its kill zone. This is incredible material, and it would be an absolute waste to just destroy it all.”

“What would you do with it if you had it?”

“I'd think of something,” he shrugged after putting the bones down. “I'd be hard pressed to make something anytime soon without first turning them into powder, but even then, that would still be a great use for them. But, it's your bounty, so it's your call.”

Sona looked to the monster's remains, then to Connor, and then the ground before her. The others watched with slight worry, not sure how she would respond to the request. Connor didn't either, which was why he chose to leave the ball in her court while downplaying his expectations in hopes that it would help convince her.

Finally, she sighed.

“Very well. You may take no more than three. But you must promise that you will be responsible with handling them.”

“Unlike Carlisle, I'll know exactly what I'm doing before I ever do it. You have my word.”

Sona nodded, satisfied with the answer if only just.

“Thank you.” Connor lightly nodded in gratitude, then approached the remains. For about a minute, he stood in place, surveying the skeleton and memorizing every detail of the deformed beast until his mind wandered back to the battle.

A chill ran up his spine and down his arms when he looked at the skull. As much as he didn't want a repeat of the night's events, the sense of triumph that came from defeating this monster almost completely outweighed the relief he'd felt upon its death. It wasn't like his fights with Dohnaseek or the stalker's peerage, where he'd felt a twinge of remorse for taking the lives of sentient beings, but then later washed it away out of necessity.

No, this time, there was… pride… at delivering the killing blow. At outwitting it, at overcoming his powerlessness against it, at defeating something that, for a moment, seemed impossible to defeat. It was almost euphoric. (2)

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, chiding himself. These were dangerous thoughts, the likes of which have gotten many a young magi killed far too early.

Connor decided upon three bones from the creature's left side: the femur, the radius, and the tibia. He would have preferred to take one of the large fangs, but their roots were too firmly seated in the skull. They couldn't be removed without potentially being forced to break them, or get himself cut up in the attempt. After making his pick, he scoured the intact machines on the factory floor and found a large spool of usable nylon thread to wrap the bones into a large bundle. He then collected the remains of his Keys and the expended runestones.

Sona sent the remaining bones to the Underworld via teleportation, then regarded Connor with her professional stare once more.

“I trust that you will maintain silence about what has transpired here?”

“Of course. Not a word from me.”

“Then, if that is all, on behalf of myself, my servants and House Sitri, I thank you for your assistance tonight, Mr. Lochlainn.” The heiress gave a bow in respect, the others following suit. “Good night.”

He bowed in return.

“Good night, Lady Sitri.”

With the bundle tucked under his right arm, Connor silently made the trek back home, taking care not to be seen by anyone. The crisp night air was a welcome change to the acrid stench of blood that would likely never leave that factory again. He could still faintly smell it on the bones, so that would have to be taken care of before going to work with them on anything.

Twenty minutes of walking brought him to the welcome sight of his front door – his fully functional front door. After the failed attack, the entire thing had required replacement; door, hinges, lock and even the frame. That had been a very awkward conversation to have with Watanabe. Thankfully, the repairs didn't cost much for the old man, and Connor had both it and all the attached parts more properly reinforced than the previous one, so there would be no repeats. In theory.

Securing the door behind him and going about his nightly routine again (which included a mandatory shower), he then drew hot water in the tub and set the bones inside for them to soak in soap for no less than twelve hours. Sona had done well in destroying much of the organic tissue, but there was no doubt some residual bits left in the hard-to-reach places that would need attention. The process of cleaning the bones would normally take anywhere from days to weeks. Here, though, it would only take less than forty-eight hours to get rid of the smell and leftover oils.

The next steps would be to give the bones a bath in peroxide, pick out anything remaining after that, and, when all was said and done, give the tub a thorough cleaning.

With nothing else left to tend to, he elected for sleep. Strangely, it would be hours of tossing and turning before he finally dozed off.

---

School was very somber the following Thursday.

News about Ruruko's 'injury' came directly from the Student Council over the intercom. Allegedly, she suffered a cut at home that led to a very rare and very aggressive bacterial infection. She would live, according to the cover, but would not be able to return to school for some time. After a moment of silent prayers for her recovery was called, the day continued with a lot less chatter and a very heavy feeling on everyone's shoulders.

Ruruko currently held the record for the youngest person to be inducted to the Kuoh Academy Student Council, doing so almost immediately after starting her first year of high school. Connor knew the truth of why that was, but most students didn't and assumed it was based on outstanding merit. As a result, she had a public perception akin to that of Koneko; a minor celebrity. The little spitfire's absence would be a wake-up call to a lot of people that a 'freak accident' like hers could happen to anybody at any time.

It was certainly a relief to hear that she would survive, but the news of a delayed return was suspicious… What weren't they telling? Was she in worse condition than they claimed?

He wouldn't get his answer from the Council, and that was evident throughout the day. Whenever somebody asked one of its members out of timid curiosity, the response was that they were not at liberty to say, as doing so would be disrespectful to Ruruko and a violation of her privacy. They were shutting down the rumor mill before it could even get turning.

Saji looked like he still wasn't done placing blame on himself for what happened. He'd approached Connor on the way back from lunch break, looking like he wanted to say something, but decided against it and just walked away with his head hung. When Tsubaki crossed paths with Connor between classes, her expression was strained; polite but distant. He later caught murmurs from Tomoe and Momo in the hall, their gazes flicking his way with a complicated mix of wariness and respect.

The magus decided that it would be best to give them some space. There wasn't much else that he could say or do to make the situation any different. Ruruko's absence was heavy enough of a pall – their terse interactions with him proved that. If they needed him for something, Reya would let him know.

The journey home was just as quiet. Asia didn't talk much about her day, no doubt sending even more silent prayers to God in the hopes that He would help the first-year through her ordeal. Little more than a kind gesture, all things considered, but if she wanted to do it, he wasn't going to stop her. Unless it pertained to her stalker, it wasn't his right to tell her what she could or couldn't do with that boundless compassion.

He was thankful she wasn't there to witness anything of last night.

The two foreign students bade farewell to each other for the night upon returning home, both hoping that the following day would be a bit more normal. Shortly after dinner, though, Connor's phone buzzed on the table.

His jaw tightened upon reading the caller ID. He didn't answer right away, choosing instead to steady his breathing. A call this late could only mean that there was now some other chore for the Grigori to bother him about.

Slowly, he tapped ‘accept,’ anticipating a less-than-friendly chat from the agent on the other end.

“Another job?”

“No, just listen. Our patient woke up yesterday, and she wants to meet you.”

---

…

(1): Bone ash has been used throughout history in cupellation, a metallurgy process that separates precious metals like gold and silver from base metals like lead and copper through oxidation.

(2): For my fellow gamers out there, you know perfectly well that joyous feeling of finally defeating that one standout boss which plagued you more than any others in a game. My personal bane was the Fume Knight in Dark Souls II.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 12: Social Call

The last rays of light cast by the sun were beginning to fade away, ever gradually replaced by those of numerous stalls and stores in Kuoh Town's market district. Kuoh was always busy in springtime, being the largest populated town in its midland prefecture, so there were plenty of people coming and going on a regular basis, and there was always something to do.

Unfortunately for Connor, he didn't have time tonight to enjoy the nightlife. Dressed in his preferred casual attire of jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes, he weaved his way through the streets of Kuoh at a steady pace, not stopping even to chat with the neighborly locals.

Tobio had originally said to meet with him at the usual time on Sunday, only to call him again Friday afternoon to tell him that there was a change of plan that required him to come that night without argument. He'd hung up before Connor could even ask what was going on, leaving the magus once more confused and frustrated, and just a little bit worried.

Connor turned the corner that led to Nomura's, right at 6:00 P.M., and found Tobio standing outside the restaurant. When the agent noticed him, he didn't make any change to his stoic expression.

"Good, there you are. Come on," he intercepted Connor's questions and began to walk briskly away, prompting the magus to move faster to catch up. The journey took the two out of the market district's central plaza and into the more sparsely populated eastern side.

"Security around Kuoh has gotten tighter all of a sudden, and I've seen more than usual of the Devils' familiars patrolling town throughout the day. There's at least one in Nomura's right now. Sitri is taking things seriously, and that's leaving us with fewer windows of time to talk."

Connor glanced behind them as they walked. He tried to seem casual about it, but Tobio's clipped tone had put him on edge. Sona was already forced to double down on her governorship duties while Rias was away, and in the wake of Wednesday night's battle with the undead beast, she was likely tripling down and pushing everyone in her group harder than before. His left hand reached into his pocket to jostle the runestones inside, allowing the muted clatter to provide their familiar reassurance.

Eventually, the two happened upon a darkened alleyway between a couple of tall buildings and ducked inside. Tobio directed the magus behind a corner, then crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, putting himself between Connor and the way back to the street.

"The shadows should cover us here, as long as we keep it down. Now, you were saying?"

Connor lightly exhaled through his nose. "Why did you even tell her about me? It's not my business anymore, I didn't even rescue her."

"Not directly, but you did play a part in that. I wouldn't have known she was even in that church if it wasn't for you."

"Don't pretend like you or Jin couldn't have handled everything by yourselves without anyone being the wiser. Hell, if you knew Asia was coming to Kuoh, you could've easily taken her to your boss straight away. Save everyone the trouble."

Tobio shrugged. "Well, sure, but then we wouldn't have known that there was a second victim until it was too late, and the whole idea of catching someone in the act of betrayal is to catch them in the act. If I'd moved too preemptively, she'd be dead, and we wouldn't have the proof of sedition that we do now."

"I'm sure the dhampir completely understands. Speaking of which, why even entertain this request of hers? I get that you guys are trying to curry favor with her because she has the Holy Grail and all that crap, but why? Why not just tell her that I went off the grid or something and can't be reached?"

"Because she was very specific about it. She doesn't want to read a note or listen to a message or speak to a face on a screen, she wants to talk with a real person."

"Well, we can't all be that lucky," Connor snarked. "And just in case you haven't been paying attention, I'm not exactly in a position to be traveling."

"I'm aware, which is why I'm going to teleport us there, if you agree to go. Quick and easy, there and back in no time. She's still not in any condition to be leaving the facility we have her in, and with her Gear being what it is, the Grigori isn't going to let her go anywhere unguarded." Tobio paused to steal a glance out the alleyway. "She slipped under the radar once, but it won't happen again."

Connor stared at Tobio, the pros and cons teetering back and forth in a mental tug-of-war while the agent simply returned the gaze and waited.

Whatever the Grigori's motivations for going along with this, he had no reason to oblige. He'd finished the job (two, in fact), got his payment, and went on his way. This constant roping of him into their problems was getting really old, and it made Connor wonder if they actually planned on doing anything to him if he didn't comply. With how persistent Tobio and the Grigori had been in pestering him with odd jobs over the last few weeks, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't just try again later with something as relatively harmless as a visitation once things had settled down.

Also, despite the agent's claim, teleportation was not as simple as one might believe. For it to work, an anchor, a sufficiently powered magic circle and a lifeline were all needed to open a dimensional gate that would allow for instantaneous transport and provide a safe way back if something went wrong. Failure on any of these parts mid-spell typically resulted in dismemberment or bifurcation as the connected realms separated.

That said, there was no way the agent wasn't aware of the dangers of teleportation, which meant there was a good chance he had already laid down the groundwork for a safe transit.

In the time since their first meeting, Connor had come to understand that he and Tobio were two minds of the same kind. Their origins couldn't have been more different, and their current priorities were as far apart as night and day, but he could actually picture himself in Tobio's place and following the same path if their roles had been reversed.

Connor didn't trust Azazel, nor did he fully trust Tobio, for that matter. What he did trust was Tobio's ardent sense of loyalty. The agent had been nothing but straight with him so far, and he was too loyal to Azazel to go behind his back or commit to action without the man's approval. The latter fact alone meant that there had to be some legitimacy to the request, regardless of whoever else might have allowed Tobio to go through with it.

For this reason, Connor had decided against using his Mystic Eyes as a lie detector and instead abide by his own judgment. Even so, he pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if he was going to regret this decision later.

"Alright. When do we leave?"

"Right now."

Tobio unhooked one arm from the other and lightly pressed his hand against the wall of the building. There was a hum and a brief flash of light, and then all was quiet again. Connor blinked twice, then looked around them, eyes widening.

Gone were the contemporary wood and concrete buildings, the precisely laid bricks and comforting narrowness of the market streets, as well as the vivid colors from lights and marquees advertising the daily specials. Instead, he was greeted by every neutral color on the palette, but mostly gray interspersed with glass and steel. Standing before him now was a sprawling complex built of architectural glass with cinder blocks slathered in stucco and then capped with Spanish style terracotta tile roofs in burnt sienna hues.

Additionally, the temperature was significantly cooler than the warm evening air from before, and the sun was shining down from a cloudless sky. It had to have been mid-morning as opposed to sunset.

A sensation of vulnerability swept through Connor. Before, he could count on the storefronts and apartments to provide a measure of shelter and escape into the crowd. Here, though, it seemed almost impossible to assess for threats with so much open space at one time.

He looked around to check for witnesses to their arrival, but there was hardly anybody to see them. Even then, the few that he could find didn't seem to notice them. He then checked his phone, and found that the time now read a whole seven hour difference from what it would have displayed mere moments ago!

The magus stood in place for several seconds, trying to overcome his astonishment at being transported halfway across the world in the time it took to blink.

"Nice place," he finally said.

"I personally don't care for it," Tobio dismissed. "This actually used to be among the smaller of the Hirslanden Group's hospitals here in Zürich, but when they constructed a bigger facility across the lake, the Grigori negotiated for a… minor change of management at this one."

"Zürich? So we're in Switzerland? How secure is it here?"

"Enough to provide a safe haven for Sacred Gear users. Come on, we'll get this done, and I'll get you back to Kuoh in time for dinner." He didn't wait for a reply and strode toward the facility. With little choice at this point, Connor followed.

As the two humans entered the main lobby, Connor felt the temperature drop slightly. Nothing out of place for a hospital, since they were typically kept colder than the outside world for a number of reasons, but he also felt a rather constrictive change in air pressure. A barrier, he surmised. Not unlike his own Bounded Fields, and probably keyed to ward off any unsavory supernatural species, with the exception of Fallen. At least the security aspect checked out.

He followed the agent to the reception desk and, to his surprise, Connor recognized the person seated behind it. It was a familiar woman, fair-skinned with long, blue hair that was mostly done into a tail that fell down the length of her back. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit, the white blouse being left unbuttoned at the top to reveal a thin gold necklace at the base of her throat.

Hearing someone approach, the woman gave a professional, albeit fake, smile.

"Chan ig ne hälf-" She started in Swiss German, but when her eyes met Connor's, her smile dropped and she threw up her hands with a irritated groan. "Oh, for… why're you here?!"

'Such a warm reception,' he held himself from saying. 'I think I'm starting to sweat.'

"Well, I'm… absolutely thrilled to see you, too, Kalawarner."

The bluenette Fallen scowled. "Don't use my name like we know each other. I'll ask again: why are you here?"

"He's here because a patient of ours requested him, Ms. Kalawarner," Tobio interceded.

"The little vampire girl?" Her gaze shifted to Connor. "You helped with that?"

He shrugged. "In whatever small capacity."

"Uh-huh. Am I to assume that you've been drafted into the Grigori now?"

"Funny how that's your first assumption, but no, I'm not. At least, I don't think so. Azazel didn't kill me when we first met, so I'm guessing he's not sore about Dohnaseek."

"Yeah, don't let it go to your head," she warned. "You're only as interesting to Lord Azazel as the next human in line. He gets a new one every year or so."

"I see. Alright, well, thanks for the advise. I feel so much better now." His quip, marinated in sarcasm, was met with a blank stare. "So, what about you? How'd you end up behind a desk instead of bars?"

"I cut a deal for a lighter sentence, so now I'm off active duty until further notice." As she talked, she arranged some documents and fished something out of a desk drawer. "It's boring, but it's better than what happened to the other two. Since it was by Raynare's direction that things went the way they did, and Mittelt simply went along with it, they got the worst punishment: dishonorable discharge and quality time in the bird cage."

"Wait, in the what?"

"The bird cage is Fallen lingo for what's essentially high security prison," Tobio explained. "Whatever rank or title a Fallen might have is stripped once they enter, and they're forbidden to fly for the duration of their stay."

"It's an egregious insult to any of our kind," Kalawarner added. "But, for those whose actions threaten the Grigori, it's deserved."

"You would've gotten that yourself if you hadn't blown the whistle. Why didn't you try to do it earlier before things got out of hand?"

"I did try, but Dohnaseek got in the way. He had good connections, and he threatened to pin the blame for the whole op on me if I talked, claim that it was my idea. Lucky for me, Raynare and Mittelt didn't hear that conversation, and he made the mistake of not telling them about it. As a result, when you killed him, you gave me a chance to stop that whole farce right then and there. In a way, I should be grateful to you for saving my career, even if unintentionally. So, thanks."

"You're… welcome?" If ever there was a backhanded 'thank-you' as that.

"Good enough. Anyway, if you're here for a visit, then don't let me keep you any longer." She reached up and set a visitor's badge on the counter in front of the magus. "You'll need this for the time that you're here. Stay with Tobio at all times; where he goes, you go. Otherwise, you'll be sent home in a shoe box. Got it?"

"Yeah. I got it." Connor took the piece of laminate and clipped it to his shirt.

Kalawarner didn't acknowledge. Without another word or glance, she got back to her other work.

Tobio motioned to follow, and the humans started toward a pair of elevators to the left of the reception desk. Once out of earshot, Connor lightly smirked.

"I think she likes me."

The agent made no verbal comment, though there was a smile on his face as he pressed the button to the right side of the large steel doors to call the lift. Almost immediately, said doors opened, allowing the two men to step inside. Tobio then pushed a button on the command panel labeled 'B3.'

'Keeping her underground, eh?'

"So, before I meet this VIP, is there anything of importance that I need to know about dhampirs?" the magus asked once the doors finished closing. Just as Tobio opened his mouth to reply, Connor felt the contents of his chest cavity lurch into his neck as the elevator began to descend.

"Well, as half human and half vampire, they have physical characteristics of both, like any other child. While eligible for a Sacred Gear bonding at birth due to their human side, with their vampire side, there are some substantial differences."

The floor indicator displayed B1 as the elevator passed the first sub-level.

"They can't shape-shift like normal vampires, but they can venture outside during the day without getting cooked by the sun. As far as blood is concerned, dhampirs don't rely on it like pure-blooded vampires do. It's a great form of sustenance to them, but they don't need it to survive."

B2.

"What about ghouls?" Connor received a confused glance at the question. "When vampires take blood, but don't necessarily kill their victim, that victim is turned into a ghoul. Is it the same for a dhampir?"

B3.

The elevator came to a smooth stop on the third sub-level, and the doors opened with a 'ding' to reveal a clean and pristine corridor with wooden doors lining both sides. Several people in lab coats and scrubs could be seen down the hallway a good distance; some were talking among themselves while others went about their business alone.

"I can't say for certain." Tobio stepped out of the elevator first, Connor close behind.

"That's very reassuring."

"Do you know how many dhampirs there are in the world?" Tobio asked flatly, keeping his voice low as the two passed by room after room as well as the occasional doctor or orderly. "Next to none, so there's not a lot of empirical data on them to begin with, let alone what they can do. I only know what I've told you because she told me as much when I first talked to her."

"Did she say anything about the Graal?"

"Not really. A sore subject, not that I can rightly blame her. At any rate, here we are." Tobio came to a stop before a room labeled '318.' Knocking lightly, the two heard someone beckon them from inside. He opened the door and held it, allowing for Connor to pass.

The magus had to blink, just to make sure that was he was seeing was real.

Seated on a hospital bed and dressed in a white-and-light blue gown was the half-dead woman that Tobio had carried into Asia's apartment on that eventful night. Her skin was pale, though a much healthier shade than he'd seen on her before, and the light blonde hair bordering on alabaster fell to the tops of her shoulders in waves. Red eyes alight with vibrant joy, a gentle smile graced her lips as she made eye contact with him and set down a book she'd been reading.

"Good morning," she softly greeted, her Eastern European accent lending a gentle, almost musical rhythm to her speech. "Are you Connor?"

The magus gave a polite nod but kept outside of arm's reach upon catching a glimpse of fangs.

"Yeah, and a good morning to you, too. If I seem a little jarred at the moment, please excuse me. I think I've got a mild case of teleportation lag."

"There's no such thing," Tobio remarked, stepping into the room.

"Well, I'm making it a thing."

"You two seem to get along rather well," the woman said, letting out a small laugh.

"Yep, we're a regular Starsky and Hutch."

"He's lying. The dynamic is more like Riggs and Murtaugh," Connor dryly joked.

This time, Tobio started laughing while the woman slightly tilted her head in confusion.

"Movie reference, don't worry about it."

"Oh, alright. Well, I'm Valerie Tepes, and I'm very glad to meet you, Mr. Connor." She then trailed off, fidgeting slightly. "Umm… may I… May I talk with you for a bit? I wanted to give you my thanks for your help in saving me. Tobio told me that you were of great help to him."

"I can assure you that my role in those events is greatly exaggerated." He cast a glance to the agent, who was now innocently studying the ceiling. "Just out of curiosity, what else did he say about me?"

"He said that the two of you had worked together previously, but that getting in touch with you would take time. I assumed that you were undercover or something. Was… was that wrong?"

"Not entirely, but the situation was delicate. Had to be careful." Connor pulled up a chair beside the bed. "If you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you end up in Kuoh? By which I mean, how did the exorcists get a hold of you?"

Pensively at first, Valerie regaled them with her story. She had run away from home, along with a friend she called Gasper, to escape the cruelties of her more pure-blooded family, only to run into a group of vampire hunters that mercilessly cut down her fellow escapee. Just as they were about to kill her, too, one of their own stopped them, claiming to sense something powerful emanating from her.

She was taken alive and kept in a cage for several days before her power was identified as the Sephiroth Graal, after which she was sold repeatedly to different people for increasing fortunes. Eventually, she wound up in the hands of Stray Exorcists who, despite their seeming association to the Grigori, had partaken in enough dirty dealings to more or less make them a band of vagabonds and murderers for hire.

Beatings and abuse from all of her captors were a regular occurrence, though none of it was sexual in nature, and because the Graal would always heal her like nothing happened, the weeks of captivity blurred together for her.

This group of Strays then brought her to Japan where a ritual was supposedly underway to extract the Sacred Gear from another person being sent that way. She remembered the heated arguments that ensued when their group arrived to find nobody else at the rendezvous point, not even another exorcist. Numerous fights and compromises later, and they decided to attempt the ritual themselves.

At this point, Tobio connected the events and tied Valerie's testimony to the arrival of the new exorcists in Kuoh along with what he'd witnessed in the church's basement. All the while, Connor listened and processed everything he heard, putting the story together.

"I held on for as long as I could for just one more chance at freedom, but without Gasper, I didn't have any reason to continue existing; ultimately, I had given up hope on even staying alive. Death no longer scared me. I just wanted it all to end, to make the pain stop."

"Do you regret being saved?" Connor asked.

She shook her head. "At first, yes, but… not now. Everyone here has been nothing but courteous and patient. I've been treated far better here than I ever was in Romania."

Connor could tell that she was fully aware of the reason for that. The Grigori's interest was far more for the Graal than it ever could be for her as a dhampir. Treating her with respect was just the simplest way of engendering goodwill between them, whilst dissuading thoughts of escape. Considering her life thus far, it was certainly an effective tactic. And even if not everyone in Grigori went along with it, for one reason or another, those who didn't want to get involved would just leave well enough alone.

"So I'll just take things one day at a time and see where I am by the end of them. At least here, I have the chance to do that." Valerie's previous melancholy faded, and the light in her eyes returned. "And I just wanted you to know that everything's okay, so, thank you."

She held out her hand to him, asking for a shake. There was an awkward moment where Connor didn't take it, merely staring at the hand before he decided to oblige. What was the harm, he thought. He placed his right hand in her own and lightly grasped, silently marveling at the almost silken feel of her skin.

Then, his vision began to flicker, as if he was looking at the room through an old TV suffering from interference. The flicker stopped and started several times, until the world around him completely cut out, and his senses seemed to vanish as well. He could no longer feel or hear anything, but his sight remained. At least, he supposed that it did. With what he was seeing, however, he couldn't be entirely sure of that.

An empty darkness surrounded him, and looming over him was a large orb of some kind, with deep blue flames rolling across its surface, reminding him of a burning star. Two long bands of light surrounded it; these bands rotated concentrically around the orb and spun at differing rates, evidenced by the brighter flecks that he could see in them.

Suddenly, the orb and bands disappeared, and the magus found himself back in the hospital room, his hand still clutching Valerie's. No sooner had the image cut from his mind and his senses came back to reality, than the back of his hand erupted with a hot, searing pain.

"Kgah! AAGH!"

With a startled cry, Connor abruptly pulled away, stumbling back, his teeth tightly clenched, with his left hand ferociously gripping his right wrist. Valerie's own hands had shot to her face and were now covering her mouth in alarm.

"Whoa, hey! What happened?!" Tobio sprang up between the two, looking to the dhampir first. "Valerie, what happened?"

"I– I don't kno–"

"What the hell is this?!"

Connor's exclamation drew their focus to him and, more emphatically, to his right hand and the blood red mark that had suddenly appeared on the back of it. The magus looked up at them, his eyes widened and his face turned ashen. Both Tobio and Valerie were stunned into silence at the sight.

After a few seconds of the three glancing back and forth between one another, Tobio made a rather meek suggestion.

"Uhh… I think we should… call this in."

---

The elevator door opened, allowing the sole male occupant to step out and adjust the collar of his suit. Instead of his favored casual outfit, he was dressed in his business professional attire: a dark blue long blazer with a lighter blue dress shirt and slacks, black waist coat with a red tie, and black dress shoes. Quite the contrast against the sea of white surrounded him.

He'd only been to this place a handful of times in the last few years. The first several were on business with the hospital up top, and the latest was just to make sure that the dhampir girl with the Sephiroth Graal was safe and squared away. Because it was more of an urgent care clinic than a legitimate research facility, there wasn't much of interest to him here. Just make an appearance, smile for the camera, then be on his way.

Matters related to Grigori bases across the world were typically handled by Shemhazai and his more immediate subordinates, anyway. Yet, if the old man in charge of this facility was willing to call for him directly, it had to be big. And it was a pretty safe bet what the cause was.

The man strode with purpose down the long corridor, passing by human doctors and Fallen along the way, though he paid them no heed. Many curiously watched him for a time before going back to their work. His eyes absently skimmed over the faces and the room numbers until he came upon the facility director, Tymael –a grizzled veteran that had served under him in the Great War– in a quiet discussion with two human doctors.

"Gentlemen?" he greeted expectantly, catching the attention of the three men.

"Lord Azazel." Both doctors bowed in respect. The Governor General held up a placating hand in return.

"Ease up, just tell me what happened."

"Yes, sir," the older of the two humans, a Dr. Hasler, responded. "We received a call through the nurse's station asking for help about twenty minutes ago. According to the nurse, the caller sounded calm but confused, so just myself and Dr. Baumann responded. When we entered, Mister Ikuse and his guest, one Connor Lochlainn, were standing beside Miss Tepes in her room."

'Yep! Called it!'

"Go on."

"We inquired about the problem, and Mister Ikuse informed us that Mister Lochlainn had a… reaction to physical contact with Miss Tepes. Mister Lochlainn then showed us a marking on his hand."

"Marking?"

"Some sort of deep red pattern on the back of his right hand. A well-defined pattern. Too much so for it to be a burn or a bruise. At first, we thought it was a tattoo, but he and Mister Ikuse insisted that it wasn't there when they arrived here." As Dr. Baumann explained, Tymael started writing and scribbling something onto a piece of paper.

"This is about where I was with things before I called you," Tymael stated, then handed Azazel a prescription note with a very crude drawing on its back.

Azazel studied the drawing, perplexed by the unnatural shapes. "And how did this happen? What kind of contact was it that caused this?"

"A handshake."

His mind hit the brakes with that, and he looked up.

"A… handshake?" Both doctors nodded, as did Tymael. "Was there anything else unusual?"

"No, sir. We ran all the basic checks on Mr. Lochlainn and Ms. Tepes, and they're both fine; temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, breathing – everything is nominal. There's nothing to suggest trauma or illness of any natural sort."

That very slight inflection from the word 'natural' told Azazel that Hasler had deduced what the next step would be in this case. The man then gave a subtle glance to the facility's director, who returned it with the faintest of nods.

"I see," Tymael said. "Thank you, gentlemen. We'll take it from here."

"Are you certain, sir?" Baumann asked.

"Yes, we'll be fine. Keep up the good work, gentlemen," Azazel reaffirmed.

Baumann looked apprehensive, but Hasler gave him a nudge and a pointed look that said to drop it. He'd been around long enough to know that once the Cadre got involved, matters regarding Sacred Gears were out of their hands. If they were needed, they would be called again.

"Then, we will take our leave, sir." Hasler quietly ushered his junior away to allow their leaders to deliberate in peace.

Looking to his leader, Tymael observed the reminiscent smile on Azazel's lips as he regarded the drawing once more.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, to which Azazel chuckled.

"Oh, I'm just marveling at Father's mysteries. We know so much and yet so little about them. No matter how hard we try, something always surprises us."

"Is that not what you enjoy the most about them?"

"Of course. Life would be boring if it were routine. So what do you think the Graal is up to?"

Tymael shook his head. "I really don't know. Practically every factor about this whole situation has never happened before. We could speculate all day and still be left scratching our heads."

"Yeah, and judging by my first meeting with the kid, he's not going to walk away without an answer. An answer that we can't give right now. However, I do know someone that might be able to help with this."

Azazel called forth a magic circle in his left hand, then brought it to his ear. He waited for a short while before a feminine voice echoed from the other side.

"Lord Azazel? It's not like you to call in the middle of the day. Shouldn't you be hunched over your researchers' shoulders as they poke and prod at your latest find?"

He smirked. "On a day ending in 'y,' yes, but something's come up, and I need the eyes of an expert."

"My ego is not so easily stoked, but you have my attention. What's going on?"

---

Impatiently, Connor now sat in a formerly empty exam room alongside Tobio while they waited.

Much like himself and Tobio, the doctors responding to Tobio's call were flummoxed by the mark adorning Connor's hand. A quick physical exam didn't reveal anything, as the discolored skin didn't exhibit any pain or irritation. After checking up on Valerie as well, he and Tobio were hastily ushered to a room where they could wait while the doctors talked with their superiors about their next course of action.

Very professional.

His face propped against his closed left fist, the magus lightly rapped his fingers of his right hand against his leg to distract himself from staring at the oddity now adorning it. Every five seconds or so, however, he would catch himself looking down at it again, and he could tell that Tobio was doing the same.

How strange of a pain, to suddenly feel like his hand was on fire, then vanish without any lingering sting. Then there was that… vision. What was that thing? And why did he get the sense that it was looking right at him?

Once more, Connor took in the mark's details, committing them to memory. Strangely, it looked rather similar to that orb and rings, with two circles that both surrounded a diamond in their mutual center. The circles had arrows pointing inward and outward at random places, the two largest of which pointed directly top and bottom, perfectly in line with the diamond's vertical points.

For what had to have been the tenth time in as many minutes, he sent Od through his arm and into his hand. Just like the times before, he could feel something seemingly attached to one of the circuits in his hand sending the Od right back from whence it came. It was only for a split second, and it took Connor several attempts to pinpoint the new sensation. Applying Structural Grasp at the same time to watch the process in his mind showed him that what he was feeling was real, not that it alleviated his concern.

This anomaly had somehow commandeered the circuit, and was now cutting it off from the rest of his system. For what reason or how, he didn't know.

Before he could contemplate any further, the door opened. This time, it was not a new doctor or even the previous two who stepped in, but the Grigori's Governor General, dressed in the same dark suit he wore when Connor had first met him.

"Wow. Big boss himself comes down?"

"Yep, I'm always looking for something new," the Cadre said with a grin. "Mind if I have a look at this little accessory of yours?"

"Sure, might as well. Everyone else has." He tiredly held his arm upright with the back facing Azazel.

The man gave a curious tilt of his head and leaned in, putting a hand to his chin. Connor didn't know enough about him to know what exactly he was thinking, but the scrutinizing look he was giving the mark was not at all dissimilar to someone studying a painting.

"Is there no pain?"

"Just a brief flash. Like a quick half-second jab from a hot piece of metal, then nothing."

"And you got this from a handshake… That's pretty wild…" he mumbled before standing up straight again. "Well, kid, based on what the doctors have told me, there's nothing physically wrong with either you or Ms. Tepes. The normal scans and tests have turned up nothing."

Connor was about to make a snarky comment, but held his tongue. "'Physically?'"

"Yeah. It's pretty obvious by now that, while you may have had a physical reaction, this thing is by no means a medical mystery. That's why I've called for someone who might be able to offer another perspective on this." He turned to look at the door. "Come on in."

The door opened once more, and a young woman sporting what could only be described as a stereotypical witch's garb walked gracefully into the room. On her head was a large, wide-brimmed hat, while her shapely body was dressed in a spellcaster's robe and cape, all of which were similarly colored light blue and stylized with white diamond patterns. The outfit's sleeves belled out at the elbows, and the hem was slit up to her left hip to reveal her long legs and thigh-high stockings.

In the instant she made eye contact with Connor, he took note of her gentle expression, long blonde hair flowing past her shoulders and the deepest sapphire irises he'd ever seen on a person. Her eyes coasted across the room's occupants until they landed on Tobio and brightened.

"Tobi, mi caro! It's so good to see you again!" The woman cried joyfully before bounding to the agent and taking him into a hug. The pointed hat she wore was pushed off her head as she pressed her cheek against Tobio's, but the younger man deftly caught it behind her back from underneath her arm.

Connor could tell from the lack of attention Tobio paid to the action that it was a practiced movement. He glanced to the Governor General, who was smirking.

"Hello, sis." Tobio lightly returned the woman's affection, then brought the hat up and set it back to its rightful place. "I'm happy to see you, too, but this will have to wait."

The woman pouted as she stood back. "Phooey, Tobi, don't be so stiff."

"Heh. Me, stiff? You should've seen this guy," Tobio gestured to the other young man in the room. "He's getting better, but when I first met him, you could paint him in bronze and call him a statue."

The woman turned her attention to Connor, looked him up and down briefly, and curtsied.

"Buongiorno, signore. I am Lavinia Reni. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Little Miss Lavi here is the most senior member of Tobio's team, and my liaison to Grauzauberer," Azazel explained, crossing his arms. "She's one of their top three magicians, so I figured she might be able to shed a little light on what's going on with you."

"Don't call me 'senior,' Lord Azazel! It makes me sound old!" Lavinia whined.

At the mention of Grauzauberer, Connor straightened.

The Grey Wizards, as their name translated, was among the leading magician organizations in the supernatural world. Very powerful and very influential, they maintained a position of authority among their peers, yet kept their distance from political trappings and short-sighted agendas. Whereas their contemporaries and many that came after only lasted an average of several decades before dissolving, the Grauzauberer stood the test of time for more than five centuries.

Furthermore, the process of joining the order wasn't as simple as signing up in a recruitment drive. From what he understood, one needed be apprenticed to an already existing member, and the integration from there took years.

For this woman, barely into her twenties, to be at the top of the food chain was no small feat.

"Connor Lochlainn, the pleasure is mine." He returned the greeting with a small nod. There would be no more handshakes today.

"Now, Lord Azazel tells me that there was an accident of sorts that left a mark on you. May I see it, please?"

He held his hand out, symbols facing up, to which she she briefly examined before bringing her own hand to hover at the mark. A small magic circle appeared in the palm of her hand as she began chanting something in Latin, but he couldn't tell exactly what. Must have been her own form of Structural Grasp.

"Strange…" she remarked, ending the spell after about fifteen seconds.

"Yes?" Azazel asked with anticipation.

"There's a fragment of magical energy in his hand that shouldn't be there. It doesn't match up with the rest of his body. I would have to examine Miss Tepes as well, just to be sure, but this energy is definitely divine in nature."

"Divine, eh? Is it dangerous?"

"Not that I can tell. The energy inside is swirling about, but it's not building up in strength or dying down. It's just… there, like it's waiting for a trigger or something." She put her hands on her shapely hips and leaned on her right leg. "I've never seen a Gear do something like this before."

Since nobody seemed to have any idea of what the mark even was, Connor figured that asking if anyone knew this was possible was pointless. Even Valerie didn't seem to know, otherwise she would've said something. Which begged the next best question:

"Okay, so does anyone here have any idea of what the Sephiroth Graal actually does? I mean, it doesn't just mark everyone that so much as taps her on the shoulder, right?"

"No, it doesn't. I wish we could say we knew more, but that'd just be a lie," Tobio admitted. "The Graal is the most scarcely seen of all the currently known Sacred Gears, even among the Longinus. It's only manifested once every five hundred to six hundred years. Counting backwards from the present to the Last Supper in 33 A.D., that would make Valerie to be only the Graal's fourth wielder in the span of two thousand years."

"We do know that it has some restorative abilities, based on Valerie's story, but beyond that, it's anybody's guess. The last time someone wielded the Graal was around the late 1400s, so verified knowledge of its true power is sketchy at best. Those who possessed it never lived for very long." Azazel grimly shook his head. Speaking as an eyewitness, it seemed.

Connor looked at the mark again, irked by the news. Anything he could learn would be outdated by no less than a few centuries, and none of it would likely pertain to the piece now clinging to him like a parasite. He made no effort to hide his growing frustration until a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Now, don't give up just yet," the blonde magician said, giving a comforting smile. "I have an idea. When I first joined Grauzauberer, my mentor had me read a thesis written some time ago regarding the Longinus and their functions. I was in the middle of learning how to control my own, and I needed a baseline so I wouldn't accidentally send half of Europe into a new Ice Age."

Connor blinked. "W– you have a Longinus, too?"

"Mm-hm! I'd give you a demonstration, but I need a lit~tle more space for it," she teased.

'That's number three. By the Root, am I gonna meet everybody with one of these things before I die?!'

"I'll ask our acting chairman if I could take a look at that thesis again. He probably still has it somewhere in his personal library. And don't worry, I won't mention you. I'll just be asking about the Graal."

"At what cost?" His quick response caused her to blink.

"Pardon?"

"How much will it cost me to get this information?"

"Well, how much is it worth to you?" she countered with her own question.

"I would prefer if it didn't cost me an arm and a leg, but I do have some… potential research material that you might be interested in. Maybe even your chairman, if they're into the bizarre and grotesque."

If there was one thing in the world that any spellcaster could count on to bolster their case, be they a magician or a magus, the promise of potentially new magic research material never failed. Sure enough, a twinkle of intrigue bloomed in her eye, though she kept a straight face.

"And what would that be?"

"Remains from a creature that will never be seen in this world again. That's all I'll tell you. I want to see if this thesis is real before I commit to a barter."

"Oh, it's real. But the critical question here is if it will help find out anything."

"Well, that'll be my bridge to cross." He tapped on his marked hand to punctuate.

She thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "Alright. You've got a deal. Now, if everyone is fine here, I should go check on Ms. Tepes."

"Tymael will show you the way," Azazel directed. Lavinia nodded and, with a polite bow, excused herself from the exam room. The Governor General then turned to Connor and gave a lopsided grin.

"Never a dull moment with you, is there?"

Much as the magus hated to agree, he couldn't argue.

---

Elsewhere, Issei Hyōdō sat on a comfy chair in his room at the Gremory family's mountain retreat. He stared up at the moon, facing opposite the room's luxurious bed and silently reveled in the calming radiance of moonlight.

Five days remained of the ORC's ten-day training trip, and tensions were rightly high. This upcoming rating game would probably be the most important one in Rias' life, and not simply because it would be her first.

Rias had called everyone to the ORC clubroom last Sunday for a meeting to discuss some important news. It was there that he was introduced to Grayfia, an absolute bombshell of a maid in service to Rias' older brother, who declared her position as a mediator between Rias and another high-class Devil that had yet to arrive. While they waited, Rias explained the situation.

She was set to marry another high-class Devil in a purely political marriage to unite their respective families through… pure-blooded ties or something that Issei really didn't understand nor care for. The idea of her getting married for political expediency was beyond terrible-a sentiment shared by all of the other ORC members. According to Grayfia, the arrangement was made before Rias was ever born, and it was only after meeting her supposed betrothed that Issei understood just how truly messed up it all was.

Riser Phenex, Rias' groom-to-be, showed up 'fashionably late,' but made up for his tardiness by quickly making a complete jackass of himself. From the moment he appeared, the snobbish jerk acted like he was already married to Rias and treated everyone but Grayfia as inferior beings. At one point, he even threatened to harm Rias' servants to make her go back with him to the Underworld. The maid's intervention made him back down from that, but she made no effort to put a stop to his other arrogant shenanigans.

For a first impression of high-class Devil conduct, this whole thing was a really poor showing to Issei.

Riser's biggest offense, however, came when he summoned his own peerage at the tail end of the meeting. His entourage was comprised from left to right of nothing but women and, in a show of total disrespect, he shamelessly made out with and groped at least two of them, just to draw a reaction out of Rias! What kind of prick gleamed satisfaction from doing shit like that in front of people?! Sure, Issei wanted a harem of his own, but he sure as hell wasn't going to act like that toward anyone in it!

After an embarrassingly brief scuffle regarding Riser's behavior, it was put forward by Grayfia to hold a rating game that would determine the outcome of the matter. If Rias won, the marriage contract between her and Riser would be voided. If Riser won, the marriage would proceed immediately.

With that in mind, the ORC took a leave of absence from the academy for ten days to prepare. In the eyes of its newest member, it seemed that everyone in the group had greatly improved since then.

Everyone except for himself.

He looked down at his left hand and frowned.

The others all had their talents and their powers, but what did he have? Just some stupid one-shot of a Gear called Twice Critical! Even before the training trip, he'd tried for weeks to get a response from the thing, but he couldn't get it beyond the initial stage: a clunky red gauntlet with a green jewel and two golden spikes on his left wrist. He hadn't made any sort of real progress beyond getting a single boost from the thing in spars with Kiba or Koneko.

As a result of this apparent dead end, Rias had decided that, instead of focusing efforts on his Gear, he should direct his attention to building up the basics; strength, magic, endurance and others. He had a feeling the new regimen was just to help keep his mind off of other things but, to her credit, it worked.

He could now hit harder than before, was able to tank a few good hits, and the miniscule amount of magical energy he possessed upon his reincarnation had grown. While a far cry from a Super Devil, at least now he wasn't the pathetic scrub that got the wind knocked out of him from a single hit by Riser's weakest Pawn.

Even so, with all the improvements he'd made, he feared that it wasn't enough. He was little more than the average low-class Devil now; nothing spectacular or, quite literally, game-changing.

"Maybe it'd be better if I just… didn't participate at all," he muttered dejectedly, holding his head in his right hand.

He wanted to tell that to Rias, but he was terrified of what she would say. Hell, what would the others say? Would they all call him a coward for not even trying? Would they be understanding and let him sit by while they fought a four-to-one battle? Surely not! They needed everyone they could get to even the odds, but… but if all they had was a fifth wheel like him, what was the point? What difference would he make?

In the time that he'd spent with his new friends and fellow Devils, he'd come to understand something about himself. It had become abundantly clear to him, having thrown everything he had into the training and garnered so little results against the others.

More than he hated Riser, he hated feeling useless.

Getting up from the chair, he dragged his feet to the bed, threw back the covers and climbed under with a tired sigh.

He just wanted to do something, anything, to help! Was that so wrong?!

Such thoughts were the last on his mind before he drifted to sleep.

…

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't in his assigned room at the mountain retreat. In fact, he had no idea where he was.

The bed and everything that had been around him was gone, and all he could see was fire. Walls of flame taller than his house in Kuoh loomed over him, blocking out the sky. The constrictive heat coming off those flames was all but ripping the breathable air right out of his lungs.

"Wha… What is this?"

"Any sane being would normally call a place like this 'hell,' don't you think?" a bodiless voice questioned, seeming to echo all around him over the roaring flames. "It's not terribly cozy, but it's home, and it's been so long since I've had a guest."

Issei was one push away from panicking. "Wh-Who are y–?!"

"Who am I?" someone spoke from behind him. Issei turned to look, and recoiled upon seeing… himself, standing in a gap between the flames wearing nothing but a pair of black boxing shorts.

It was him, but it barely looked anything like him. This version was… ripped! Absolutely jacked! Not like those freaky, juiced-up American bodybuilders he saw in magazine corner stalls, but holy shit! If this impostor were to walk into Kuoh Academy, he'd have to drive a bus just to haul all the girls home with him!

Muscles that he'd only ever seen on manga characters decorated the doppelgänger's lean body like tattoos on a yakuza. There wasn't an ounce of fat to be seen anywhere on him. He also looked to be slightly taller than Issei, and his skin tone only slightly darker. To top it off, unlike the real Issei's dark brown orbs, this one possessed vibrant green eyes. The look he was giving Issei seemed to bore right into his soul.

"Think of me as a mirror," the false 'Issei' cryptically spoke, "whose purpose is to show you what your own eyes don't see just yet."

The real Issei didn't respond. Even under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have understood what a statement like that meant. Here, it just seemed outright bizarre.

Both teens stared at one another for several seconds –one baffled, the other calm– before the 'reflection' broke his stone-faced visage with a toothy grin. Wait… those were fangs!

"The look on your face."

The false Issei threw his head back and let out a bellowing laugh, before his form was consumed in a vortex of fire. Even still, he continued, the voice growing deeper, louder and turning almost inhuman. At the apex of the raucous laughter, a huge, reptilian arm slammed down in front of Issei, sending him sprawling backwards. Covered in red scales and bearing claws as long as his torso, the appendage was more than enough to flatten him with one careless step.

Following the arm to its origin, Issei looked up and saw…

A dragon. A massive, red dragon.

Standing taller than anything Issei had ever seen up close, coated in scales of a deeper crimson than Rias' hair, the mythical monster was as awe-inspiring as it was terror-inducing. Its scales seemed to reflect the light cast by the surrounding flames, making it appear for a brief moment that the creature itself was composed of living fire. Large horns were fixed regally atop its snout and around its head like a crown, and the same green eyes that were once looking straight at him were now staring down at him like he were an insect.

"That always gets the new ones," the same booming voice from before echoed with amusement out of the dragon's fanged maw. "Sorry about that, couldn't resist. But in all seriousness, I think it's about time that you and I spoke face-to-face, hatchling."

The dragon spread its colossal wings and gave a single flap. The winds thrown about by this act buffered the teen while snuffing out the flames around the pair. That terrible heat and the cracklings of rampant fire were suddenly dispelled, replaced only by silence, and the two beings were left surrounded by nothing but darkness.

Never in his short life did Issei feel so incredibly small.

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 13: Arrive

In the pitch-black emptiness of the space they occupied, the fledgling Devil stared up in trepidation at the beast of legend while the dragon looked back down at him.

It wasn't the first time one of his hosts had been taken under the ownership of a Devil, and it wouldn't be the last. Not that he really cared about that anymore. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't care less what form of creature his hosts started out or ended up as, so long as they boasted the strength to wield his power correctly and strike down his rival when the time came. That was all that mattered.

He had many titles besides his own name; his personal favorite was gifted to him the moment he first drew breath. Throughout the following centuries, that title alone was more than enough to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies and draw strong rivals to test his power.

After all, what more did Y Ddraig Goch need than Red Dragon Emperor of Domination?

This host, Issei, as it called itself, was… below average… far below average. Even as a Devil, the boy wielded barely any magical potential with only the physicality of one who lived a carefree life until reincarnating, and a mind far too easily distracted by matters of the flesh. And while he had an ultimate goal that he made no secret of striving to achieve, progress toward that goal was stunted by his contention to 'play house' with his master and fellow servants.

Being a fledgling Devil, this ordinarily wouldn't be such an issue, but there were other factors hampering his potential. For one thing, he suffered from an inferiority complex, which was a result of constantly comparing himself to the other Devils in his little group. Unfortunately, it set the tone in his mind that he couldn't escape the fold. Pawn/servant/mediocre. Weak! This would never do for someone who wielded Ddraig's power.

In addition, the loss of memory caused by his traumatic death prior to reincarnation was beginning to affect the boy in other ways that needed to be immediately addressed. While he had an idea for fixing that problem, there was something that he needed to make sure of before proceeding.

Ddraig could scarcely remember having a new host with so many issues from the start, and yet… he rather liked the challenge. There was something to be said about working from the absolute bottom and going nowhere but up that filled Ddraig with pride every time he was awakened.

While he reminisced, the boy finally gathered the courage to speak, only for the dragon to cut him off.

"In case you're wondering, no, I'm not going to eat you," he dismissed the question he knew was coming, having heard it too many times before. "My appetite disappeared along with my real body eons ago. No, you're here right now because I need to speak with you about the future. Your future, to be precise. Or perhaps even our future."

"W–Where even is here? Where are we?" the boy said, finally finding his voice.

"You are currently asleep, and we are in your subconscious mind. I didn't want any distractions while we talked."

"So… I'm dreaming?"

"When you're dreaming, are you aware that you're dreaming?"

"Uhh… no, you're not?" was the response, phrased more like a question than a statement.

"Then you're not dreaming." He bit back a grin at the boy's flummoxed expression.

"Okay, hold on. If I'm not dreaming, and you're real, then who are you? What are you?"

"I have many titles and monikers that I would proudly waste time listing for you, but they're neither here nor there. We need to get to business: Tell me, have you been experiencing… episodes, lately?"

The boy blinked. "W-…What do you mean 'episodes?'"

"Headaches, dizziness, maybe some bouts of forgetfulness or déjà vu within the last month or so?" Ddraig offered.

"Well, I…" the boy looked to his feet as he thought back on recent events. "I have been struggling a bit in school… I keep thinking that I've seen things or thought about them at certain times and places, but I don't know how. I thought that it was just because I was tired or I was having troubling adjusting. You know, to being a Devil."

"Even you know that's not true, hatchling. You have long since adapted to becoming a Devil. What you're experiencing is not normal, and now that I've heard it from your standpoint, I think I know what's going on. You may recall having a certain void in your memory from that night, am I correct?" Issei nodded, catching the meaning. "Well, it's my theory that this gap is actually starting to create even more holes in your mind. The reason you're seeing and hearing things that seem familiar is because you've already seen or heard them, but you have no recollection of them. In short, you've been having memory blackouts."

Ddraig had been watching for some time now, several weeks in fact. Throughout his observations, he noticed that there was always one common factor to these blackouts: For whatever reasons, Issei's mind would wander to the events of his murder and, in doing so, would briefly dissociate itself from reality. It only lasted until something broke his train of thought, but it would leave him unable to accurately recall whatever he saw or heard in that window of time. His brain would hold the memories of sensory input, but his mind couldn't make the connection.

At first glance, it wouldn't seem like anything particularly dangerous. However, the boy had been getting lost in thought much more frequently in recent weeks, and that opened the door for him to lose track of time and experiences more and more. The last thing the boy needed was for this to happen during a life-or-death battle.

Issei's confusion morphed into panic as his eyes widened.

"Calm down, hatchling. It's not so severe that you'll forget how to breathe or eat or whatnot. The things you're forgetting are more short term."

"W- Well, that's still just as bad, don't ya think?!" Issei sputtered indignantly. "We've got a rating game coming up, and I'm not up to speed with the others yet! I can't be forgetting everything I learn here! And my name is Issei!"

"I concur," he replied without skipping a beat. "This has to be dealt with, and soon."

"Y- Wha- Gah! So how am I supposed to do that?!"

"You tell me, boy," the dragon said plainly. "I've been hosted by hundreds over the last few millennia, and I've rarely ventured beyond this point in meddling with the mental state of said hosts. I'm no doctor of the mind, that is not my niche. Too much can go wrong if you misplace something. I learned that the hard way more than a few times. Fortunately for you, I have an idea that will possibly help with these newer holes in your memory."

Issei perked up. "You do?"

"Yes, but I'll need some time to make the necessary adjustments for it to work properly. Moreover, this is merely a 'band-aid solution,' so it won't solve the original problem. If that's not taken care of, the issues you're seeing now will just keep coming back, maybe even get progressively worse. That means you've got to do your due diligence. Find a solution for the gap that's causing all of this, and keep up with your master's training in the meantime.

"Worry not, Issei. When the time is right, you will hear from me again, and then, you will come to understand what it means…" Ddraig dramatically unfurled his wings to their full width, "to dominate."

"H-Hey, wai–"

Before the protest could finish, the Great Dragon flapped his wings and engulfed the space with fire once more, consuming the boy's form and leaving not a trace behind. He wouldn't die, but he would most definitely wake up with a jolt. When he did, there would a special surprise waiting for him in place of the 'Twice Critical.'

Ddraig had of course failed to mention several things about this new accord between the two, but he had his reasons. He didn't want any distractions after Issei reported to his master what had just occurred, so he kept quiet about the ability to speak telepathically through the Gear. There would be time to change that later, but more important tasks required his attention in the now.

'Time to get to work.'

---

*THUM THUM THUM*

A loud knocking interrupted the peaceful slumber of the young woman. With a gasp, she sat upright in the bed and grabbed the sheets previously covering her unclothed body. Someone was at her door, and sounded like they were–

"Buchō, are you awake?!"

It was Ise, Rias realized, and let out a sigh of relief. In her moment of panic, she had thought it was… someone else.

"I am now, Ise. Geez, you scared me!" she replied.

She heard a timid 'sorry' through the door, invoking a giggle from her as she pulled herself out of bed and slipped on a bathrobe from the nearby lounge chair. As funny as her Pawn's hormonal teenage reactions were to the sight or the very thought of the female body, breasts in particular, he was up awfully early just to catch a glimpse of hers.

Well, if it would get him motivated for the day, then she would oblige with a little show of cleavage. Of course, after telling him to not scare her awake in the morning. Rias Gremory was not a morning person.

Upon opening the door to her room, she was greeted by her newest peerage member, wide-eyed, sweaty and clad only in a pair of his boxers. The look of shock and excitement she was expecting flashed across his face at her state of dress, but, much to her surprise, it vanished almost instantly. Something must've been seriously wrong if he didn't go ramrod straight and start babbling.

"Ise, are you alright? What's going on?"

"Buchō, my Gear isn't what we thought it was!" the boy blurted.

Rias blinked, now more confused than ever. She was, however, wide awake at this point. "Huh?"

"Look!" Issei then brought up his left arm and summoned his Gear.

The familiar flash of green light emitted from the boy's arm, but died down to reveal a completely different form. His entire left forearm, wrist, hand and fingers were fully covered by a gauntlet with red plates resembling dragon scales. Several of the unique features from the previous form remained, such as the green jewel on the hand and the gold spikes, but were now much more pronounced.

Rias stared for a moment, then looked back up to Issei.

"What happened?"

Issei began to explain, starting from the moment he fell asleep the previous night to his conversation with a dragon that apparently had been sealed within his Sacred Gear the entire time. Halfway through his description of the reptile in question, Rias' eyes widened as the realization dawned on her.

"Ise, that's…" she interrupted, a broad grin blooming on her face. "Your Gear isn't a Twice Critical at all! That's the Boosted Gear, one of the thirteen Longinus! The vessel of Ddraig, the Welsh Red Dragon! This changes everything! If we revamp your current training routine to account for the Boosted Gear, we can–"

"Buchō, I… I don't know if I can."

"Sure you can! You just do what you did before! Twice Critical was basically modeled after the Booster Gear, so they should operate on the same conditions. If your will is strong enough, then–"

"The Gear's not the problem. It's me."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Ddraig said that there's something wrong with my head, and it has to do with the night I was… er, I died." He grimaced and shifted uncomfortably as she stared at him. "From what he told me, I've been having moments where I just forget where I am or what I'm doing, and he's right, there's… there's these blank spots in my memory from the last couple of weeks. He wasn't very specific, but he said he had an idea that could help with that, and he needed time alone to make it work."

While he talked, Rias' mood had gradually transitioned from confusion to shock and finalized on outrage.

"Did he not give you any details at all? Like what you could expect to see from this, or what his plan involves?"

"Not… not really," he answered sheepishly, rubbing a hand on top of his new Gear. "Only that it was a patch, I guess. He kicked me out before I could ask. He didn't even tell me about this thing. Sorry."

Rias put her hands on her hips and cast a glare toward the nearest wall.

"A patch," she mumbled to herself, "Good grief. You'd think that, as his new host, he'd be a little more forthcoming with your mental health. Why the secrecy? He's the Red Dragon Emperor! It wouldn't look good on him for his host to have such a…" she stopped herself from saying the word that came to mind. She continued to scowl for a short time before shaking her head. "Well, I suppose it's better than him just outright ignoring it. Alright, I'll call Sir Mathers and we'll see what he says."

"Sir Mathers?"

"He's my elder brother's Bishop, and a very accomplished magician," she clarified. "If anyone can help, it's him."

"You have a brother, Buchō?" Issei continued curiously.

"Yes, have I no– Oh, that's right. I haven't told you much about my family, have I?" He shook his head. "Hmm. Well, you'll meet my brother soon enough, along with my parents, especially now with the Boosted Gear. But there's something else I need to ask you, Ise."

"Uhn… Yes, Buchō?"

"Why didn't you tell me about your memories? You told me that you would, right? You know that I would help you in a heartbeat." She hadn't intended to sound hurt with her question, but it must have come off as such because he looked down and clenched his fists.

"I … I-I don't know. I didn't know what to do, and I still don't. I just… I'm just in the way," he lamented as the corners of his eyes began to moisten.

"Ise, what are you–"

"That's all I am! The more I think about it, I can't stop thinking about it, Buchō! I'm nothing but dead weight going into this game! What could I possibly do except act as a meat shield?! I'm not strong, I'm not fast, I've got nothing going for me, and there's no time to change any of that! And now there's this whole crap with Ddraig and my head! I…" his shoulders began to heave. "I can't keep up. I don't know what to do…"

The frustrated quiver in his voice nearly broke Rias' heart. Her Pawn was here, feeling like the whole world was weighing down on him, and the sudden realization of her oversight in not seeing the truth sooner only compounded her anguish. Of course, perception is everything. Circumstances behind his reincarnation aside, did he really believe that she would think less of him by talking about it? How long had he kept this bottled up? How short-sighted was she to have not noticed the signs?

No more, she decided. Enough was enough. She'd place the call to her brother's servant this very morning. She would get to the bottom of this mess, whatever it would cost her.

She moved forward and cupped her hands against his cheeks.

"Ise, look at me, please," she requested gently. To her relief, he did just that.

"You are not dead weight, nor are you in the way of anything. I will say this as many times as I have to until you believe me: My peerage members are my family members. That's not just something I say because it's nice to hear – I mean it! If you're struggling, I'll help you. If you feel like you're falling behind, I'll teach you. If you're in trouble, I'll protect you. If the entire Underworld looks down on you, I'll stand by you.

"A King protects their own… and I clearly haven't been doing that for you. I haven't been there for you like I should've been, and I'm so sorry. So, let me promise you right now: I'll find a way to help you through this. We all will. Whether Ddraig's idea works or it doesn't, we'll find a way. And don't you ever think of yourself as useless. Do you understand?"

Issei still didn't seem entirely convinced, but the release of the tension that he had been feeling for quite some time came from hearing what he needed to hear, and it did wonders. He relaxed and nodded in her hands, then stepped back slightly to clear his eyes.

He took a deep breath and nodded again. "Okay… Thank you, Buchō."

"Call me Rias when we're in private. Don't worry about the title."

"Yes, Bu- I mean,… Rias."

The redhead smiled in turn. As much as she liked the sense of authority that 'Buchō' brought, it was always nice to hear someone else say her name every now and then. And certainly more refreshing than reaffirming it to herself in the mirror.

Shifting gears once more, she stepped back and crossed her hands behind her back.

"So what was your new friend like?" she asked, giving a tell-tale sarcastic inflection at the word 'friend.'

"Ddraig?" The Pawn scratched his cheek, trying to find the right to describe the encounter. "Umm… honestly, Buc- er, Rias,… he's… he's kind of a…"

"Yes?"

"…Lazy smart-ass."

…

…

The heiress and her servant would never forget the silence that preceded the most unladylike belly laugh Rias had ever let out in her life at his assessment, with Issei joining after she snorted like a pig and laughed even harder because of it. It shouldn't have been that funny to her, but the timing was perfect and the deadpan serious look on his face made his delivery amazing.

What a wonderful way to start the morning.

---

Connor sat on his couch, absently watching some TV program that he couldn't rightly remember the name. There was too much on his mind, and he needed a little white noise to distract him.

It wasn't working.

He could no longer deny it. Thanks to the Graal, his days of invisibility were now a hopeless chimera. The only thing left that he could do was to prepare himself for whatever chose to bother him next. Be it the Devils or the Grigori or some other monster straight out of his nightmares.

Two days of combing through every piece of research material he either knew by heart or had at his disposal had yielded only mixed results.

In the supernatural world, magical energy could actually take physical form through a process called crystallization. Much like how common substances in the chemical world could change their molecular structure due to heat or pressure, he theorized that magical energy from the Graal had compressed itself enough to crystallize after traveling from its original vessel (Valerie) into something much smaller (him). He was more than likely wrong, but still, it was about the only reason he could think for it happening the way it did.

Magic circuits being what they were, essentially a second nervous system, it was entirely possible for them to suffer damage in similar fashion as natural human nerves. Even worse, if the magus was not careful with how they utilized the circuits, burns and necrosis were disturbingly common occurrences with mishandling of the flow of Od – the fingers were typically the first body parts to be lost. So it was a wonder that Connor's entire arm didn't suddenly decay or otherwise burst into flame from the sudden intrusion.

What struck him as odder still was that the effect of the magical energy compression and transfer wasn't immediate. There had been about a half-second to a full second before the burning pain lanced through him. He knew this because he remembered thinking to himself how perfectly the serene smile on Valerie's face suited her complexion.

Dhampir or no, that woman was gorgeous.

Then there was the 'vision' he witnessed. He'd never read or heard about anything like that in his life, and he didn't even have enough time upon seeing it to form a question before the whole thing disappeared. It almost made him wonder if his mind was just playing tricks on him, but the sudden loss and reappearance of his senses had disproved that. Obviously, the Graal had somehow acted on its own; however without further contact with Valerie, he didn't see a way to find out more. At least not without Lavinia's suggested plan to bring in more research material.

Troublesome as it had been, he had managed to divert attention from his hand while at school on Saturday but only for a couple of hours before Reya asked him what happened. He claimed that it was a slight burn he gave himself while making tea, and had even dressed it as appropriate for burn treatment. To sell the deception, he went the extra mile of acting as if the pain and irritation from the 'burn' was real. He could tell that she wasn't convinced, but she kept silent for the time being.

There was only so many times that he could use the same excuse before people would stop buying the lie, and he half expected for Sona would grill him about it at some point soon.

As if right on time to break him from his thoughts of Sona's impending interrogation, the Field around the complex notified him of two familiar magical presences.

Connor was glad that the agreed upon meeting place would be his apartment. Sure, it could have been anywhere in town that was very sparsely visited by the normal folk, but that also meant fewer witnesses in case of a backstabbing. Here, he was largely more secure; he had sensors in place, traps, soundproofing, some new items with which to bring to bear in a pinch, and neighbors, just in case.

He waited for the doorbell to ring before getting up to answer. Opening the door, Connor was greeted to the sight of Tobio and his senior team member. Lavinia was sporting a white blouse, light blue long-sleeved shirt and a straw sun hat with a rounded top while Tobio went with a simplistic dark gray T-shirt and button-up black jacket. Both were wearing blue jeans and tennis shoes to complete the spring casual attire quite common in Japan.

"Good evening, signore Connor," Lavinia greeted.

"To you as well, miss Reni. I'm guessing Tobio showed you the way?" he asked as the young men wordlessly nodded to one another in greeting.

"Indeed, he did."

"Anyone see you coming?"

"Really?" Tobio asked.

"Right, stupid question. Still, though…"

Lavinia giggled. "Oh my! You two really are friends, aren't you?"

"Baby steps, sis."

"Yeah, on LEGOs. Anyway, come on in for a little bit while I go grab the merchandise." Connor stepped aside to allow her to pass.

"Grazie. Such a gentleman~" she tittered, Tobio coming in right after her and shutting the door.

He rolled his eyes and left the chuckling pair at the tiled entrance, proceeding to the living room where two of the undead beast bones lay propped up against the wall in the corner. The largest of the three, the femur, would be staying with him, kept secure in the bedroom closet until he was ready to work with it, while the others would be his payment for the thesis Lavinia was offering. He had never actually specified how many he was willing to trade, so squirreling away just one for himself wouldn't be a deal-breaker, and what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

The moment his hand curled around the beastly tibia, a cold dread began to slowly creep up through his fingertips. The layered curses emanating from the bones hadn't abated in the slightest since the battle that night, so they still maintained their abnormal rigidity and gave off a disturbing chill when touched. Curses and their after-effects typically did not go away with anything less than a strong enough spell to completely overwhelm the curse (or multiple in this case), and while Lavinia's boss could probably break that cipher within a week, Connor wanted to find his own way with the femur.

The magus suppressed a shudder before picking up both articles and returning to his two guests. He came back to the sight of Lavinia trying and failing to get her tennis shoes off while balancing on one foot. Tobio, meanwhile, stood by and watched with a smirk as she hopped here and there.

"Don't bother with the shoes, this won't take long," Connor announced, catching the woman's attention.

Upon her first glimpse of the bones, Lavinia froze. Tobio's amusement died a sudden death when he turned around to follow her gaze.

"What are those?"

"Limb bones from a hapless creature mutated by half-assed necromancy," he answered bluntly, earning looks of surprise and shock from the agent and magician respectively. "Don't worry. The idiot responsible for it is dead, and the documentation of his process has been destroyed. There won't be another one, trust me."

"I would hope not," Tobio interjected. "Jin's growling up a storm, and I can almost see the malice coming off of those. It's like a gnawing hunger."

"That pretty well sums up the encounter," the magus affirmed, then looked to Lavinia. "Your director still want these?"

The blonde magician hesitated, obviously not wanting anything to do with them herself, but she managed to choke down her nerves and nod.

"Yes… I think he'll be very interested in them,… unfortunately."

"Good. Now then, can I see this thesis?"

Lavinia nodded. Without preamble, she brought her hand out, palm facing the ceiling. The same personalized magic circle he'd seen previously appeared above it, and from that circle came a clean manila folder with a stack of papers neatly tucked inside.

'No incantation? Curious.'

"This is everything I could find in there about the Graal," she explained. "I know it's not much, but you won't get much better anywhere else. I tried to have some other things printed for you as well, but the director didn't want me giving out anything extra for free that wasn't strictly reference material."

Connor shrugged. "Fair enough, I got what I asked for. Just do me a favor and don't do anything stupid with these."

"Oh, believe me, I won't," the woman replied firmly, handing the folder to the magus.

"Alright, here you go." Connor held the bones forward in offering.

Slowly at first, the blonde magician reached to take them, then none too quickly grabbed and nearly dropped them from shock before shoving the items into her magic storage dimension and closing it. She gave a full-body shiver, then started wiping her hands against her pants as if to get the numbing cold out of them. If only it were that easy.

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she turned once more to Connor and smiled, though it was a little forced.

"If that is all, then I bid you 'good day.' Good luck in your search, signore." With yet another wordless wave of her hand, her magic circle appeared beneath her feet, allowing her to seemingly sink into the ground and vanish.

In her haste to leave, she had placed the two men in an awkward silence.

"She doesn't deal with curses very well, huh?" Connor asked.

The remaining agent shook his head. "Not in the time I've known her. Well, see you around."

"Yep."

Tobio snapped his fingers, and a black portal whirled to life beside him. He gave one last glance to the magus before he stepped through and the portal closed behind him.

Just like that, Connor was left alone again. He sighed, glad that it went the way it did. For these kinds of interactions and deals, the lack of threats and/or memory manipulation made for a good day all around.

He ventured back to the couch and sat down, extracting the folder's contents and spreading them on the coffee table. Sifting through the excerpts and notes, he found the paper that seemed the most detailed about the Graal and began from the top. Luckily, the writer had the common courtesy of using English. Or at least, this translation was in English.

"The Sephiroth Graal, or the Holy Grail of the Secluded World as it is known in some circles, is the chalice believed to be used by Jesus of Nazareth at the famous Last Supper, which was then sent into the hands of God shortly before Jesus' crucifixion. It is perhaps the most coveted Sacred Gear out of any known today, including the True Longinus, because of how infrequently it manifests.

"Among all the other Sacred Gears known today, there are three that bear similar origins to the Graal, and are thus classified as the Holy Relics: the True Longinus, the Alphecca Tyrant, and the Incinerate Anthem. Curiously, the Shroud of Turin, the linen cloth thought to be the burial wrap of Jesus, has only ever surfaced as a museum piece instead of a Sacred Gear, despite its contact with the Son of God.

"All three of the aforementioned Gears are clearly recorded as weapons capable of destroying gods, and have frequently been spotted in the hands of warriors and magicians alike throughout history. The Graal, on the other hand, is more emblematic of life, and one needs to look at Scripture to learn the reason why.

"The Graal represented Jesus' life, in both the figurative and supernatural senses. By handing it back to God in the garden of Gethsemane, he signified the beginning of the end of his mortal life. An act of symbolism at face value, but in the book of Luke –chapter twenty-two verse forty-four in some later versions– it states that as he prayed, "his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground." Now, whether or not the disciple Luke was simply waxing dramatic to make up for falling asleep on the job or the Son of God actually did suffer a conveniently chronic case of hematidrosis remains unclear. I highly doubt the latter, myself.

"But the overall point is this: Without a concrete connection to the other Relics, who's to say that those sweat drops from Jesus actually were his blood, and that, instead of falling onto the ground, they fell into the chalice as God took it back?"

An interesting theory. If this was correct, then the Graal came into contact with the blood of Jesus while he was still fully alive and well, whereas the True Longinus and the other two had to have been coated with it while he suffered and died on the cross. It stood to reason that such a difference in how the blood touched these relics would affect their power accordingly, and why there were no others like them.

"It's well documented how destructive the Tyrant, Anthem and True Longinus can be in the hands of a skilled enough wielder – tied to the ending of life as they are. But what about its creation? What could the Graal accomplish if it truly held power over the very concept of life itself? For instance, from simple things such as prolonging one's own life, healing mortal wounds and otherwise cheating death, to the realm of impossibilities like the creation of souls, transplanting souls into vessels or perhaps even calling upon souls that exist beyond the cycle of reincarnation. If one were to get really creative, one could very well become a god with that kind of power!

"Sadly, it seems that everybody who possesses the Graal dies in short order and takes it with them into death. As a result, there is no factual evidence to support any ongoing theory at all, so there exists only possibility. I eagerly await the day when this changes."

Connor huffed and leaned back into the couch, setting the paper aside.

He knew it was a long shot, but he'd been hoping for something to at least give him a clue about the Graal. All he seemed to have gotten for his trouble was the ramblings of a loony spellcaster. While the history lesson was certainly a nice read, everything else just brought up even more questions than he had before.

Why did this guy think that the creation of souls was even remotely possible, when spellcasters everywhere had tried for thousands of years to no avail? How did a relic made by the God of Abraham have anything to do with reincarnation, a man-made concept? And was the translation off, or was this guy smoking something when he wrote some of this drivel?

The transposition of souls into new vessels was nothing new; that could be done any number of ways with magecraft or magic, and had been done since time immemorial. However, that was typically done to seal souls into non-living vessels. Even with everything going right for you, transposing a soul from one body to another was exceedingly risky. It was like transplanting internal organs; there always existed the possibility of rejection. Did the author think that the Graal could mitigate or even eliminate that risk?

Connor didn't believe in reincarnation, be it from the human philosophical context or the Devils and their phony rendition of it. Despite his disbelief, he had studied it for a short time in the States, if only to understand what it meant.

The Devils' Evil Piece system was practically trademark theft to the very idea of reincarnation because even after the body had changed and become something completely different, one's identity remained the same. That was nothing more than a transformation with extra baggage, as far as he was concerned. Conversely, in true reincarnation, sometimes known as transmigration, the soul's existing sense of identity was seemingly lost as life started over and new experiences replaced the old ones. There were supposedly exceptions to the rule called 'old souls,' but proving the validity of that was about as easy as explaining the precise reason Schrödinger used a cat for his infamous thought experiment. (1)

Connor gave the passage of theories another once over, just to be sure. There might have been some nugget of gold in that hogwash he just wasn't seeing.

'Creation of souls, nope; transplanting, total waste; calling souls beyo-...'

"Wait…"

'Calling… He's talking about it like 'calling something over'… Like beckon or summon… Summoning? If that's possible, then… no, my body would be more like a tether, in that case; an anchor to the physical plane. So then, wouldn't that make this… the conduit?'

"Conduit…" he repeated aloud before his eyes widened and he jumped up from the couch. "Wait. A. Minute!"

If someone were to witness Connor's mad dash for the bedroom in that moment, they would liken him to a scientist rambling about jigawatts and someone named Scott. Almost sliding to his knees at the side of the futon, he rummaged through his school bag until he pulled out his grandfather's weathered notebook, then carefully flipped through the familiar texts and diagrams until he found the one that had just come to mind.

With his right index finger, he jabbed at the top left corner of a page, then glanced down at the dark red pattern on the same hand.

In the past, he'd only ever read this far into the notes for the sake of killing time due to lack of resources to pull off what was described in the text. Now, however, he possessed a key component that could make or break the deal: Crystallized magical energy, courtesy of the Sephiroth Graal's mark.

The corners of Connor's lips tweaked upward slightly as he got an idea. An awful idea. The magus got a wonderful, awful idea.

'This… this might just work.'

---

Another three days had passed since Connor's revelation about the mark, and he was just about ready to see if this theory would bear fruit.

"Let's see…" Connor muttered to himself, running his checklist out loud. "Ring of purification, check. Purging circles, check. Primary sigil, triple check. Leyline connection, solid. Magical energy, optimal efficacy in… ten minutes." With all other preparations in order, he took a seat on a toppled shelf and began reading over the incantation again to make sure he had it down perfectly.

He'd spent the first day scouting around town for places to perform the ritual. It had to be somewhere that he could apply the proper safeguards and wards to keep away unwanted visitors or bystanders until and during the appointed night.

Luckily, the warehouse situated right next door to the Ishikawa factory lacked the hanging odor of blood and viscera, and there was plenty of space to work. From the inside, it looked like something had been there recent enough to knock off the layered dust and put a rather conspicuous crater in the wall, but a quick search of the area showed it to be empty. Whatever force of nature that went through there before had moved on.

From there, he went about about hunting for materials. According to the notes, the ritual he was attempting was rather bare-bones regarding what was needed beyond the circle's layout. Strangely enough, the caster's blood was not a necessity for the process, and as much as he wanted to skip using it after the debacle last week, he deemed it too much of a risk to go without. Smaller items like chalk for the circle and a little bit of incense to dispel the musty scent of the warehouse were as easy to find as a quick trip to the market district, and for roughly a few thousand yen.

Another full day was spent drawing the diagram down to the finest detail. He wanted to get it done right the first time.

Additionally, he had to consider the use of a catalyst, or a relic of some kind that held a significant link to a time, place or person in history. The thing about catalysts, though, was that they could be literally anything, from refuse items to everyday tools and even the most expensive or valuable trinkets known to mankind, the range was limitless. That is, unless the spellcaster knew exactly what it was they wanted out of the ritual.

Connor had pondered for a while on what would be an appropriate catalyst and, in the end, he decided just to use some of his runestones. It couldn't have hurt to try; he had an abundance of them, and this was all just an experiment for the sake of proving his wild theory anyway.

If the ritual worked and he achieved his goal, fantastic! If not, then the only thing wasted was time.

On the subject of time, he checked his phone and read the clock to be 1:59 A.M. The moment of truth was at hand. He inhaled deeply, taking in the rich scent of sandalwood one last time before approaching the circle and lightly dragging a sharpened runestone down his left forearm, allowing the fresh blood to drip onto the diagram's epicenter.

"Alright…"

With only a few ticks left on the clock to 2:00 A.M. precisely, the magus raised his marked hand and counted down to begin.

'4,... 3,... 2,... 1,... Now.'

"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let blue be the color I pay tribute to. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."

Connor hadn't even finished the first verse when he saw the chalk that made the summoning circle begin to glow an eerie blue, glimmering as if a hole had opened up in the earth to reveal a pool of water just below.

A good start.

He issued the mental trigger to activate his magic circuits. The chains snapped, the floodgates burst open, and a rush of Mana coming from the leyline suddenly inundated him, overtaking his Od and spreading like a wildfire to every part of his body. The shock almost made him lose his concentration on the spell, but he pushed through. If there was ever any doubt about the leyline connection's integrity before, it was gone now.

The mark on his hand started to pulse and give off heat, though not uncomfortably so. It was a very bizarre feeling, nonetheless.

"Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill. Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled."

With every utterance of 'Fill,' the Mana in his body surged like flames propelled by a burst of hot, dry air. The sigil on the ground glowed even brighter, and the surrounding rings followed suit while a mote of light manifested just above the diagram, growing with each passing second. Arcs of Mana scattered and flailed about like rampant bolts of lightning, and a powerful wind began to blow directly from the dot and sent all of his nearby tools and utensils across the floor as it picked up speed, but he didn't care.

By the Root, this was actually working! Mounting exhilaration bubbled in the magus' gut, a feeling he hadn't experienced in quite a while. Bracing himself against the growing gale, he continued.

"I hereby declare: Your body shall serve under me, my fate shall be your sword. If you abide by this will, this reason, then respond!"

The light at the diagram's center did just that, becoming so bright that Connor had to bring his left arm up to shield his eyes against it. This had the unintended effect of sending a bit of still-dripping blood onto his nose and left cheek due to the wind. Through the near blinding light, he could make out something taking shape within the circle. The more he spoke, the more the outline of something humanoid in structure grew and grew. Was it a creature or a person?

"My oath to be sworn here: I shall attain all virtues of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of Hell!"

The mark suddenly got hotter, and his heart pounded in his ears even as he shouted into the oncoming tempest. He was so close now! One last verse!

"You seven heavens, clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"

No sooner had the words left his lips, than the light detonated and a far more powerful gust almost pushed Connor off of his feet. A wave of dust kicked up and blew into his face and eyes, blinding him to the immediate aftermath. He coughed and spat, rubbing his eyes and scolding himself for not doing just a little bit more to clean up the place beforehand.

As the dust began to settle, he saw a lone figure standing to its feet in the circle's epicenter.

It was a man; light-skinned, tall and dressed in loose-fitting sky blue robes, the upper and lower halves of which featured white and gold decorative arcs respectively. Underneath a tattered shoulder cape and fur-lined cowl obscuring most of his head, a form-fitting black shirt with golden trim across the top covered his abdomen and most of his chest, while fingerless black sleeves did the same for his arms. Open-toed greaves adorned both of his feet, and a metal bracer covered his left arm while a single metal band hung on his right wrist. All four of these pieces were thematically etched with wavy black engravings.

In his right hand, a wooden staff was leisurely held like it were a weapon of a different sort. One end of it was slender and capped with a spear-like tip, while the other was intricately carved and fashioned into multiple sections of metal and wood. Sitting atop the business end of the staff, the club-like head held an amber-colored sigil and a metallic loop, from which dangled a trio of similarly metallic drop-shaped pieces.

With his free left hand, the man lowered his cowl, revealing a mature, angular face and a full head of dark blue hair that flowed past his shoulders underneath the hood. A pair of silver earrings dangled from his earlobes, identical in shape to the pieces on his staff, and deep red eyes curiously scanned his surroundings. From the structure of his face and build, he seemed to be somewhere between his late 20s and early 30s. A far cry from any preconceived image of a bearded and graying old man in similar garb.

All in all, he bore the resemblance of a druid, yet stood with the confidence of a warrior in his prime. (2)

The man's gaze shifted to the building's other occupant, then toward the circle and his own left hand. Regarding said appendage with an unreadable expression, he turned it over several times and flexed his fingers as if testing them.

Connor slowly stood back up, rendered speechless by what had just occurred before him. He wouldn't have believed the result if he hadn't seen it for himself. Summoning a semi-sentient familiar through a tried-and-true circle and using a more mundane power source would have been one thing, but this… this was…

The man looked away from his hand and back up to Connor before the magus could finish his thought. Those predatory red eyes made his breath hitch in his throat.

"I take it you're the one that summoned me?" the man asked in flawless English, his voice deep and level, bearing a tempered youthfulness.

A long moment of silence followed before Connor answered.

"Yes… yes, I am."

"Hm. Alright," was the calm reply. "Before we go any further, I need to ask you something."

"So do I, but… you can go first."

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?! HOW THE HELL DID YOU SUMMON ME?! AND, OF ALL THINGS, WHY THE HELL AM I A DAMN CASTER?!"

Caught off guard by the explosive barrage of inquiries, Connor took a step back, his ears ringing slightly from both the increase in volume and equally loud echo in the warehouse.

"I… er… what?"

"A Caster!" the man resumed his tirade, "I'm supposed to be something completely different! This is not me! It's a complete waste! I've got way better things I could be doing with my time than sling spells around like candy all damn day! Just because I was taught magecraft by the old hag doesn't mean that I…" He trailed off and his eyes seemed to lose focus, before he groaned and brought his left hand to his forehead.

"You know what, forget it," he suddenly resigned. "It's just like me to have this kind of crap luck. Now that I'm here, I can't really change anything about it."

"I– I'm sorry, but… what are you talking about?" Connor asked, unable find any kind of traction in this conversation. What was a 'Caster?' For that matter, who even was this guy? Had the ritual actually succeeded in summoning another magus? He was much the same as this man in thinking, 'What the hell was going on?'

"Look, kid, I'm getting bombarded right now with all manner of facts and information that I can't set straight, so can we hold off on that for a bit? I need time to think." The man's hand hadn't left his forehead from the moment he put it there, and his face was beginning to tighten from agitation.

"Umm… sure, I guess… there's not a lot of places to sit down in here, but if you–"

"I just need some time to think, so stop talking," the man barked.

Connor's teeth almost clicked as he snapped his jaw shut. He backed away and took a seat on the same toppled shelf as before, keeping his eyes on the man the whole way.

'Well, crap. There goes the joyous rapture of a successful experiment.'

For several minutes, the man, or 'Caster,' paced back and forth. Every now and then, his feet would come across a small something laying on the floor and send it skittering elsewhere, not that he paid any of it much regard. Even with the dim lighting courtesy of the moon through the warehouse's broken windows, Connor could make out the muscles in the man's face twitching from time to time.

Connor, meanwhile, was starting to get drowsy. He could feel himself begin to nod off as he waited, and his limbs felt excessively heavy. The ritual must have taken more out of him than he first thought, but then again, he did get flooded with Mana straight from a leyline.

Finally, the robed man stopped his movements and looked up, breathing out heavily.

"Is everything okay now?" Connor asked.

"It will be, once I get all the important stuff figured out. Sorry for snapping at you, kid." The older man looked to Connor and noticed the younger male's exhausted state. "Hey, you alright?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Or so he said, which the man clearly didn't buy. "So, can you give me an idea of what just happened?"

"Well, to sum it up; You summoned me from a plane that exists beyond life and death," the man explained. "It shouldn't be possible, but here I am: a fragment from the past, now here in the present."

'Fragment?'

"Are you saying you're… a ghost?" Connor ventured.

"Something to that effect." 'Caster' smiled. "Heh, actually doesn't make a lot of sense out loud, does it? I mean, ghosts don't have real physical bodies, right? Bodies composed of magical energy, but still. Anyway, I'm here right now because of you. That ritual you just did was a form of a contract that's bound me to you, but we still have to fully seal the deal if either of us wants me to stick around.

"The rest is gonna take a while to explain, and I'd rather we talk about that someplace where you can sit down and rest. You're just barely holding it together," he finished with a look of sincere concern.

Connor let out a tired sigh, which turned into another yawn. "Right,… we can talk and walk, then. So, what's your name?"

The man cocked a curious eyebrow.

"Oh, er…" the teen paused, realizing he'd asked that to another magus without thinking. "You called yourself 'a' Caster, so I'm guessing that's either a title, or there's more than one, right?"

"Yeah, it's just a title. It annoys the hell outta me, but it's safer to be referred to that way. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have a problem with people knowing my name; I'm not ashamed of who I was and what I did in life." 'Caster' paused for a moment to look analytically into Connor's eyes. "But I get the feeling that you'd take issue with the attention my identity could bring your way. So, for the time being, let's just agree to keep the matter of my true name a secret. I'll tell you eventually, don't worry, but there're some things I need to make sure of first."

Connor nodded understandingly. A lot of magi lived double lives as a way of maintaining secrecy, so having an alias as one's public identity was a very common occurrence. In fact, it wasn't out of the question for a magus to go by three or more different names if they had their hands in enough pies.

Still, his curiosity was piqued. What about this man's identity could be so important –or dangerous– that it had to stay hidden? While he could very well force the subject by way of this 'contract,' it would be a black mark going forward for them. Even for magi, a modicum of trust tended to go a long way.

"Alright, so what should I call you in lieu of 'Caster?' Oh, I'm Connor, by the way." The magus held out his right hand.

'Caster' gave him an appraising stare, then smiled and clasped his hand in the younger man's own. The strong grip almost completely eclipsed the slight tingle Connor felt from the mark.

"Connor, huh? Well, if you really need a name for me… I guess you can call me Grímnir."

---

…

(1): Either Schrödinger believed rats would be less memorable of a test subject, or he hated cats with the intensity of a thousand suns. Who knows?

(2): Artwork by Kei-suwabe at Zerochan.net.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 14: Adjust

"So how does this all work exactly? Do we just talk like normal?"

At first glance, one would believe that Connor was talking to himself as he walked back to his apartment in the dead of night. In truth, however, his present company consisted of the very phantom he had brought to the realm of the living. Said specter was currently invisible, having gone into what he had called 'spirit form,' while keeping pace with the young magus.

'You don't have to say anything out loud. Just direct your intent to speak toward me and say it with your mind,' Caster replied through their newly established telepathic link.

Understandably, it had come as a shock for Connor to hear the disembodied voice of another person in his own head. His thoughts flew about with the orderliness of fall leaves on a windy day.

'If he can hear my thoughts that're directed toward him, how much else can he hear? Is he listening right now? Is there a test tomorrow? Shit, I gotta study... Was home always this far away? Did Tobio and Jin have a learning curve like this to get over?'

The fatigue factor consistent with waning adrenaline levels made logical thought remarkably more difficult.

"I would, but talking is helping to keep me awake," Connor said, stifling another yawn. "Plus, it's 2:20 in the morning. There's nobody around."

'Tell that to the pair of eyes I see looking at you from the trees to your right.'

Connor tensed as his hand flew to his shoulder, making to draw his sword. His eyes scoured the area Caster mentioned, not realizing that the spirit wasn't doing anything about the perceived threat. It took a couple of seconds, but once he saw the owl perched up in an old Japanese beech tree, he sighed and relaxed.

Apart from bobbing its head to get a different angle at the earth-bound creature before it, the nocturnal bird of prey just sat there and curiously stared at him with enormous, unblinking black eyes.

'You really are tired, aren't you?'Caster asked with a chuckle. 'Well, look on the bright side: Those birds are supposed to be a sign of good luck around these parts.'

"Fuck off..." Connor groaned.

His eyebrow twitched again as he resumed walking. Maybe if he wasn't so exhausted from the ritual, he would at least be smiling, since the man wasn't technically wrong in his observation. Tonight, though, it just wasn't doing it for Connor.

Never mind Moriarty, this guy and Azazel were going to be like two peas in a pod…

Luckily, the apartment wasn't very far at that point, which left little time to dwell on that aggravating prospect. Rounding another corner, the complex came into view.

'This the place?'

"Yeah. It's not much, I know, but… It's home away from home."

Connor ascended the stairs to his modest apartment with mechanical movements; his leg muscles screamed in protest. Approaching the door, he slipped the key from his pocket. Unlocking the door, stepping in, slipping off his shoes, closing the door behind him and turning the deadbolt all occurred in a smooth and practiced motion. Placing all of his materials onto the coffee table, he exhaled loudly in relief and aimed his weary body for the couch.

Safe and secure, now it was time to get some answers!

That was the plan, at least, until Caster emerged from spirit form and put a hand on Connor's chest to stop him.

"Not tonight, kid. We'll talk tomorrow morning when you can actually focus. I'll keep watch on things here, so get some sleep before you fall flat on your face." The taller man then spun him around and gave him a firm push to the bedroom.

Had he been more coherent at the time, Connor would have objected and stood his ground, or at least done something more than simply open the door and trudge toward the futon in the center of the room.

Remembering just what it was he had left on the table, however, his head snapped up. Wordlessly, he turned right around, walked past a confused Caster, dug out his grandfather's notebook from the bag, then marched back into the bedroom, putting the book under the futon.

Without another thought on the matter, Connor settled in, falling fast asleep within seconds.

---

'Well, that happened.'

He watched and waited until the kid's breathing evened out, then smirked and quietly closed the door to the bedroom. It was almost impressive; the boy had just barely pulled the sheets over himself before he was out cold.

Walking back to the living room area, he eyed the bag of supplies on the coffee table. He willed his staff and upper robes to dissipate into magical energy, then sat down on the couch and began looking through the various documents. Maybe something in here would tell him how the kid pulled off what he did. The Caster had some blanks in his own head that needed filling.

'Caster,' he thought bitterly to himself. On any given day, he'd take up a blade and charge head-long into an enemy force with a savage grin and no regrets. Yet, to his chagrin, it seemed the opposite was the standard in his current form. His treasured weapon was not accessible to him, and its substitute wasn't exactly ideal for melee combat.

It wasn't a complete loss, thankfully. While the agility and raw strength that came with his normal form was slightly diminished, his mind was alight with knowledge of the magecraft imparted to him by his mentor. A self-diagnosis on the way to the kid's home also confirmed to him that he still possessed his natural-born talent for evasion, although now it somehow seemed stronger than what he remembered. That would need some testing.

At the kid's behest, he and his newly christened Master had thoroughly scoured the warehouse, picking up and cleaning up everything that had been sent astray by the summoning ritual. It was here that Caster demonstrated the ability to not only pinpoint every runic inscription the kid had placed inside the building, but also negate their effects and erase them with minimal effort. That was a feat other versions of him wouldn't bother doing, and the kid almost forgot how to form complete sentences at the sight of Primordial runes.

The memory made him smile as it had before. While not nearly as fun to him as being a Lancer, maybe manifesting as a Caster wouldn't as terrible as he first thought.

The kid knew what he was doing, as far as his defensive runes. At least two layers of structural reinforcement and one layer of sound-dampening inside this little hole-in-the-wall was evidence of the young man's sense of caution. There was definitely room for improvement –Elder Futhark runes were inferior in every regard to the Primordials– but this healthy start would save a lot of time for the both of them.

By and large, runic magecraft had an edge over most other forms of spellcasting because they didn't require oral incantations. As long as one memorized the runes and what they represented, they could mentally chain the effects and achieve a far greater range of results than wasting time on stupid mantras and speaking your intentions out loud. This meant, however, that while one could effectively reduce time spent on a spell to nothing, the order in which the runes were invoked was proportionately more important.

Not that any of it had helped him against his mentor during his younger years. The old hag would always sweep the floor of her castle with his carcass, no matter how many traps and ambushes he set for her. Both in battle and in magecraft, she had a counter to everything he used.

Make You or Break You; that was how the hag operated. Frustrating and painful as the lessons had been, there was always something to take away from them, so he never stopped trying. Every failure and every beating meant additional knowledge in his arsenal for when he battled her the next time.

Now the tables were turned; he'd never envisioned himself being a teacher of any sort, but this kid was in over his head and didn't even realize it. Any forthcoming relationship depended on the resulting conversation once the kid woke up.

Caster was sorely tempted to go exploring while he had the time, but he told the kid he'd keep watch. He may not have sworn to that, but he was a man of his word, dammit.

He didn't break his oaths.

…

He shook his head, half ready to punch himself to get off those thoughts. That was then, this was now, and this was an interesting opportunity to do things a little differently.

---

"You're certain that is where your familiar sensed it?"

"Yes, Kaichō. When she looked inside, there was nothing in the factory, but the warehouse has some faint traces of foreign magical energy lingering in the air. I don't know who, but someone was in there very recently," the Bishop reported.

'Of course it's that place. Of course!' The Sitri heiress raged internally as she leaned forward and folded her hands together. 'Why did it have to be there?!'

Sona wasn't normally so bitter or angry about anything, but no less than three times in the last two months had the Ishikawa factory and its neighboring warehouse been the site of a supernatural occurrence within Kuoh. She and her peerage were all still trying to recover from what happened to them last week. Now, there was this unknown subject trying to do Satan-knows-what while evidently being self-aware enough to thoroughly clean up after themselves.

'Maybe I should look into tearing it all down. Nobody will miss it. I certainly wouldn't! It would be better for everyone if that damned place was just gone!'

"Kaichō?"

Hearing the worry in her servant's voice, Sona stopped her brooding and took a moment to calm herself.

"Excuse me, Momo, that… that was… never mind." She sat up straight again and breathed slowly. "Keep your familiar patrolling that area in case this trespasser decides to comes back."

"Yes, Kaichō."

"Now, is there anything more?"

"No, Kaichō."

"Then you are dismissed."

Momo bowed once more before turning for the office door, where Tomoe stood waiting for her. In the wake of last week's ordeal, Sona had reengaged the order to travel in pairs outside of school. Until Rias returned and was informed of the latest events, nobody was permitted to go alone for any reason, either by day or by night.

It was something she should have done to begin with. Yes, she had increased the patrols and limited contract work prior to Rias' departure, but it wasn't enough. While she certainly hadn't been complacent about the added responsibilities, the doubts and the worries that now plagued her mind were like a cloud obscuring the outcome of her every decision.

'What if this were to happen? What if that didn't happen? What if, what if, what if, wha–'

Sona's face formed a snarl as she pounded a fist onto her desk. The cycle was maddeningly endless!

She hadn't told anyone about this new mental onset, least of all her servants. It almost slipped out tonight and that was bad enough. The last thing they needed was for their calm and collected King to be acting on frustration and second-guessing herself at every turn. She didn't know if she could bear the weight of another of her peerage suffering for her mistakes.

What happened to Ruruko was already a nightmare realized.

By the time the girl went under for emergency surgery, the undead monster's flesh-eating bacteria had already consumed over forty percent of the tissues and even bones in her ankle. At that point, there was nothing even the best Sitri doctors could have done to save the foot. Their only option was to amputate everything below the thigh.

While everyone in the peerage was happy for Ruruko's survival, nobody took the news about her leg well, most especially Saji. The poor boy had thrown himself against a wall and started tearing his own hair out in a self-deprecating rage. Tsubasa had to physically restrain him from doing more harm to himself, and his anguished breakdown in the Rook's arms had most of the others following suit.

Later that night, Sona and Tsubaki were forced to meet with the girl's family and hypnotize them into believing that Ruruko had been struck by a speeding car. There was no way to falsify the damage that had been done, so they had no choice but to tell the truth about her leg. Naturally, the two parents were devastated to hear of what their only child had suffered and what she would have to go through later.

In the whole situation with Ruruko, there was only one bright spot: From what Sona was later told, this strain of bacteria, while aggressive and destructive, had a surprisingly low resistance to antibiotics. Ruruko's foot and leg were well beyond saving, but the rest of her body was still completely free of the disease, and the disease's spread had come to an almost complete halt once the right medications were administered. That bought the doctors the time they needed to perform the amputation and actually give Ruruko a clean bill of health the very next morning.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for her spirit.

–––––

Sona had came alone the following Friday to see Ruruko, now that she was out of surgery and recovering. She didn't want the girl to be overwhelmed by the group's onslaught of concerns. Ruruko would be staying in the hospital for a good number of weeks in order for her body to acclimate and for the specialists to consult with her and Sona about what to do for a prosthetic.

The doctors had told her not to expect a warm welcome, but she held onto the hope that Ruruko would bounce back. With one hand hovering over the door and the other held over her chest, she collected herself.

'You can do this… You can do this… You're the heiress of House Sitri… You can do this…'

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

"Ruruko, it's me. I'm coming in," she announced, then waited for a reply. She heard nothing. Worry began to prickle in the back of her mind again, but she forced it away. Slowly, she opened the door and let herself in. Her heart ached at the sight of her Pawn.

The girl was wide awake, but had not even acknowledged her King's entrance. Her head was turned away, letting her quietly gaze out the window as if nothing around her was happening. Her long brown hair was messily splayed out across the back of her bed, no longer kept in the pigtails she normally wore. The papery hospital gown was heavily dotted with wet spots around the collar, indicating that she had been crying for some time after waking up.

And lastly, covered by the bed sheets, was the silhouette of her sole remaining leg. The residual stump of her left leg only made a small rise in the sheets from about mid-thigh up, likely wrapped heavily in gauze and medical tape.

It was still so surreal for the Sitri heiress, and it had to have been even worse for Ruruko. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to lose a vital part of yourself like that in the course of one night. A single cut on the ankle –one little cut, no bigger than a fingertip– and now Ruruko was forced to bear such a horrific physical and emotional burden as most survivors of the Devil Civil War.

Sona took a deep breath, squashing down the nerves that threatened to break her resolve again.

"Ruruko, I…" Sona began to address her servant, "I know you're hurting right now. And… And I am so sorry that you're having to experience this. But I want you to know that I am not going to abandon you or cast you off somewhere. You are my servant, and I'm going to help you through this. So if you need to tell me or the doctors anything, please don't hesitate."

…

…

No response.

"Ruruko?" she said again, now very concerned by the silence.

…

…

Slowly, the girl turned her head to face her King, and Sona froze. All her mental preparations were destroyed at the sight she was greeted with.

Tears were falling, leaving glistening trails down Ruruko's smooth cheeks and dotting her gown further, yet her eyes were not red and puffy. If anything, they looked absolutely dead to the world. She had been listening to Sona, it seemed, but her reaction was far from what Sona had anticipated.

The light that shined whenever she was on the job and working with her fellow Council members was gone. The only thing that could be read from her expression now was… inescapable despair.

"I..."

Sona tried to start again, but her quivering voice betrayed her. Tears collected in her eyes until finally, her restraint broke and she put her arms around the girl, releasing her woes in streams that added to the dampness of the hospital gown.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

The heiress lost track of time after that. She just continued to utter her fruitless apologies, while what little the young Pawn had to say simply continued to fall from from her listless eyes onto her King's shoulder.

–––––

She could still see that face, and still feel the piercing sting in her heart that it brought. It hurt worse that any physical pain she had ever felt in her life, and there was no way for her to fix it.

At least, not beyond exacting revenge.

House Shax was promptly informed of the damages and, thanks to the evidence left by Carlisle, Demetus Shax was thoroughly disgraced for his part in it. His negligence had led to the deaths of multiple servants from his own house and the mutilation of a servant from another. As such, compensation for Ruruko's surgery and all of her subsequent treatments and therapy was to be paid for out of his personal coffers. In addition, he was forced to surrender his unused Evil Pieces to Ajuka Beelzebub, who also issued Demetus a permanent ban from competing in rating games for the rest of his natural life.

Serafall had called for much stronger punishments –much to Sona's unspoken approval– but Ajuka had restrained the furious Demon King from freezing every cell in Demetus' body and outright shattering the man like cheap glass. His title and land would remain, but he would never attain more of either; his standing in Devil society was forever tarnished. Now, he had nowhere to go but down.

Fitting for a careless fool like him, as far as Sona was concerned.

Even that wasn't enough, though. There had to be more that she could do, for Ruruko's sake. Something, anything, to make this pain she was feeling dissipate. But what could she do for the girl that wasn't already being done? Who could she turn to?

She didn't know, and that's what scared her the most.

---

…

…

…

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Connor came awake to the sound of his alarm and the unsettling vibration of his phone in his back pocket. Grumbling a string of incoherent curses, he fished out the annoyance and made to shut it off and sit up.

Very slowly, his mind and the events of the night before came back to him. The trade with Lavinia, the revelation, the ritual, the successful summoning, and most of all, Caster. The self-dubbed 'Hooded One.' (1)

When Caster first introduced himself, Connor had to hide his smile at the very tongue-in-cheek title. Sure, the man had access to the first and most powerful form of runic magecraft, but there was no way a simple magus could have summoned the Norse Allfather as a contracted familiar.

'Speaking of...'

Connor slowly got up and popped the kinks in his limbs, neck and back, groaning with every 'crack.' Healthy or not, it always was a satisfying feeling. He then checked to find the notebook right where he'd put it the night before. Slightly more awake now, he opened the door and peered into the living room.

There, calmly leaning back on the couch, sat Caster. Free of the tattered blue cloak, his muscular physique was on full display, now covered only by the black undershirt that extended to just past his pecs and hung from his shoulders by thin straps. A minimalist tank top, basically. His bracer, metal ring and the fingerless sleeves beneath the former two were absent as well, leaving his arms completely bare. From the waist down, he was still clad in robes, only without the armored greaves.

"Morning, kid," Caster smiled and greeted. "Welcome back to the land of the living!"

The irony of that statement was not lost to the magus. Still somewhat drowsy, though, Connor didn't respond beyond a comical blink.

"Hey, kid, you still with me?"

Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Connor finally responded.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just… for a second there, I thought you were a… male stripper or something."

Caster stared at him before he burst out laughing.

"Pfft, HAhahahaha! Wow! Aiming a little low this morning, huh?"

"Gimme a break, you pretty well look the part right now! And–" he started defensively then stopped when he looked at the table. The notes and documents he'd tossed there the night before were organized and set into neat, even stacks. He stepped fully out of the bedroom. "How much of that have you read?"

"Just the stuff about the Graal. I think now I've got a clear picture of what happened last night," Caster replied, settling down from his merriment.

Connor relaxed his shoulders. He could tell from the look in the man's eyes that he was telling the truth.

"Did you not sleep at all?"

"Don't need to." Caster pointed to himself. "Ghost, remember? This body's just a construct of magical energy, so it doesn't need food or sleep."

"Oh… well, that's convenient."

"Sure, let's call it that," the druid snarked, then stood up from the couch. "Can get pretty boring, though, and while I don't technically need either of the two, that doesn't mean I can't partake in meals and naps and such. I've got what's called a Spirit Core that supplies this body's functions with magical energy and acts like legitimate internal organs, so food and sleep can actually restore some energy if I'm in want of it."

How interesting. His false body acted just like a real one, substitute organs and everything. Anyone not attuned to the supernatural would just take him to be a normal guy if he could keep up the act.

"Uhhh-huh… And are you in want of it right now?" Connor ventured.

"Magical energy? No. Food? Sure. If you're offering breakfast, who am I to turn it down?"

"Someone that should be careful of how much he mooches. I'm living on something of a limited budget here," the magus snipped, earning another chuckle.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to splash his face and deal with his morning breath, Connor went about making breakfast. Keeping in mind that he'd be making it for two, he decided upon tamagoyaki, with added ham and cheese that usually helped kick-start his brain in the mornings. It was just as easy to make as omurice, and there was always more than enough for both breakfast and lunch. (2)

"I can help you with that, if you want," Caster offered from the table.

"Maybe next time; this one won't take long," Connor called back.

In truth, the kitchens in this apaato complex were very small, barely big enough for one person and all the necessary equipment, let alone two people. That was one of his few complaints about the place; he was practically rooted to the center of the room while he worked in it. Even so, it was good for what he regularly did.

Another few minutes later, Connor brought out two plates of the local style omelet and set the meal down before himself and his guest.

"Smells good," Caster commented.

"Should taste even better. Dig in." Connor got started right away, taking the utensil and dividing his portion of the meal with the side of the fork, then picking up the pieces with the prongs. Caster began cutting into his first roll as well, following the magus' example.

"You said you had questions for me last night? Before you crashed?"

"Not much. Just short of everything you know," The magus dryly replied.

"Heh, you and me both. I only know what I do because the Graal almost drowned me with information just as soon as this body was completely formed. I've got the basics, though." Taking his first bite of the meal, the spirit nodded in approval. "Mm. Yeah, good stuff."

"Thanks. Okay, then let's start with what you are."

"What I am, huh? I'm what's called a Heroic Spirit. I'm someone whose deeds and accomplishments in life were so profound or widely acclaimed that, after my death, my soul didn't simply vanish into nothingness like I'd always thought it would. Instead, I got myself a spot in the Throne of Heroes."

"Throne of Heroes," Connor rolled the name on his tongue. "Sounds like a neat place."

Caster shrugged halfheartedly. "If an afterlife constitutes getting your name inscribed into a dusty ledger for departed souls, then yeah, I guess it's 'neat.' Can't really say much else about it, other than you learn that the world is a lot bigger than you thought."

"And I summoned you from that?"

"Not entirely, no. The real me could never truly be summoned back to life, no matter how strong a ritual or the spellcaster. That would take a lot more magical energy than what would be available at any time. It might come close in some regards, but there would always be something missing that would keep me from fully incarnating."

Connor thought on that, then his eyes lit up. "Oh, I see. What you are here is just a part of who you were in real life. Since the real you can't be summoned out of the Throne, a smaller piece of you took its place. That's what you meant by calling yourself a 'fragment,' right?"

"Yep," Caster affirmed. "When you started your summoning, it was like a bell went off across the entire Throne and everything just stopped. Or maybe that's just the way I saw it, I'm not sure. Time doesn't have any kind of constraint over the place, so you can imagine how much that screws up your perception of things. Anyway, the longer I listened to that sound, the louder it got, and then this little ball of light appears right in front of me, and I hear a voice coming from it. It was your voice, telling me to respond, so I did, and now… well, here we are."

"Were you the only one who heard me, or were there others?" Connor asked, but Caster shook his head and shrugged.

"If there were, I wouldn't've noticed them. All I could see and hear was what was happening right in front of me. Although, if I'm being honest, nothing really happens or changes once you get to the Throne; you get their own little place and… that's it. So when you called out to me, I was more than happy to hop off the wagon and get out and do something. See the world again, you know?"

"I suppose…"

Connor couldn't help but smile at Caster's attitude. He made coming back from the dead sound like getting out of school for the weekend or going on vacation. And with the way he was digging into breakfast, he seemed to be enjoying the hell out of his second life already. Or whatever the Throne allowed for such.

As much as the magus wanted to know more about this Throne of Heroes, there was another matter he needed a solid answer on before getting to anything else.

"So, what about this thing here?" Connor pointed to the object in question atop his hand.

"Ah, right. Those are command seals; crystallized magical energy that guarantees our roles as Master and Servant in our contract. With them, you can issue a command to me that I absolutely have to follow, and before you ask," Caster held up a finger, intercepting Connor's next question, "it could be anything. Literally anything. Let's say you wanted me to… teleport to your location instantly when I'm halfway across a city from you. Now, normally, I can teleport and do other stuff like that with the right preparations, but they might take time that you can't afford to lose. If you issued the command while utilizing the seal, the laws of time and space can be bypassed for a split second so the order can be completed immediately. I mean, if it came to it, not even the most air-tight magic defenses could stop me from crossing them."

The magus stopped mid-bite and stared incredulously at the man, then covered his mouth to keep from spitting food. "You're serious."

"Why wouldn't I be? This is serious business."

Connor looked at the mark again, wondering what kind of new world he'd stepped into thanks to this.

"Oh, another couple bits about those," Caster added. "Be aware of how you word the command. If it's vague and unclear, then it'll actually lose effectiveness. Same thing will happen if I don't like the order and lack the desire to commit. Put those two together, and your order becomes more of a mental compulsion that I can fight against. On the other hand, if you specifically state what it is you want me to do within reason, then I'll be more greatly empowered to accomplish that objective."

Connor nodded in understanding. He was reminded of an age-old paradigm in the supernatural world: A stronger incantation equates a stronger spell. Not always true, especially in runic magecraft, but that was the general rule. Depending on the spell itself, perfecting an incantation could result in better focus, range, intensity, duration of effect or even all of that. These seals were essentially a spell set to fire at will, with just a few choice words affecting the focus.

He would be lying if he said that he was getting just a little bit excited over what he was learning now.

"I see. So they aren't as all-powerful as you described them just now?" he continued after swallowing another bite.

"Well, again, as long as you invoked their power, you could order me to do basically anything. Hell, if you wanted me to do something like commit suicide, all I'd be able to do in response was call you every name I could think of while my body moved by itself to carry out the command."

Connor blinked. "Oh… That's… a little extreme, but… good to know, I guess?"

"It's an insurance policy. Something to keep me from going off and killing you the moment it suited me. Ghosts aren't known for being friendly, after all." The spell-casting spirit paused and smiled. "That said, I like that you don't sound very keen to the idea. Gives me hope that you don't mind having me around."

"Hey, after everything that happened to get to this point, I'm not about to just toss it out on a whim. Plus, you seem… reliable, not to say that I trust you explicitly right now. Just don't make me reconsider. As long as you don't try to get me killed, we're square."

Caster scoffed. "Tch, you can count on that, kid. I've had my fair share of back-stabbings. And believe me, I have no taste for it."

The bitterness in his voice and the sorrow in his eyes told Connor that this was coming from somewhere deep for the man. He decided it would be best to steer clear of the matter.

Forthcoming and approachable as the man currently was with this contract between them, Connor could tell that Caster was keeping a select few cards close to his chest. Mentioning that he had the ability to resist the absolute order robbed it of the 'absolute' quality, as well as confirmed the necessity for Connor to better acquaint himself with this spirit. If he wanted to make the most of his limited supply, he had to make sure he and Caster were on the same page when the time was right.

"Right, okay. Well, back on topic," he redirected, "I'm assuming there's only so much of that magical energy in there to use these seals, anyway, right?"

Caster nodded, holding up his left hand with three fingers extended.

"Three chances, to be exact. Once all three are used up, the contract between us is complete and it's right back to the Throne for me."

That solved that dilemma, he supposed. This contract, Caster's very existence here, rode solely on the magical energy that had jumped ship from Valerie into Connor. How and why still wasn't clear, but knowing now what it did was a definite step in the right direction. The small number of times this could work was concerning, though. With only three shots –two, ideally– he would have to be careful with his resources.

"It's a good idea to conserve them, yeah, but don't underestimate how useful they can be when your back's against the wall. Certainly would've done me some good back in my last days," Caster grumbled.

"I would imagine so. Alright, now, if these seals are emergency power reserves, how do you maintain your body without me having to use them?"

"That's actually another function of the mark itself; It's filtering your Od and converting it to magical energy that directly supplies my Spirit Core."

"Ohhh…" Connor looked down at the mark again before another thought struck him. "Whoa, wait, hang on. The mark closed off one of my magic circuits when it first appeared."

"Check again. You might notice something different."

The magus complied and sent a pulse of Od to his hand, still half expecting to feel some kind of obstruction. To his shock and delight, he found that Caster was correct; The circuit was open again, and at full strength. It was as if nothing had ever happened to it at started to smile at the incredible development, but then he noticed something else. Something that seemed… off.

He sent a second pulse, focusing entirely on his mark and the underlying circuit this time.

As for what he found…

'It's… bigger… Wait, what?! It's bigger?! How?! What the hell happened?!'

It took a few seconds for Connor to calm down before he started to think it through.

Changing a magic circuit after fully opening the system was supposed to be impossible. The overall nature of circuits was that they couldn't be altered in any way and couldn't be repaired once damaged. Many magi had tried in the past to prove that wrong, and many had become cautionary tales as a result.

Had the Graal actually changed the properties of that circuit upon bonding with it? If it did, then that meant the Graal was capable of altering one's physiology, maybe even permanently. Was the change immediate, or was it a gradual process and he just missed it? Whichever the case, the end result was something that generations of magi had failed to accomplish for more than two thousand years!

And he'd done it by accident!

A discovery like this could shake the foundations of magecraft to its core! Hell, forget magecraft, what would factions and supernatural forces across the world do for something like this?! Did the Grigori even realize what it was they had in their hands? They probably would soon enough. No one in their right mind, not even Azazel, would just sit on a power like this and let it go untested, so–

"Kid?"

Connor blinked and looked up.

"What's going through your head right now?" Caster asked dubiously.

The magus shook his head.

"Uh, it's nothing, sorry, I… got lost in thought. I do that a lot." He did his best to recover from his embarrassment and keep the conversation going. "But yeah, I see what you mean about the mark. Okay, so… if I'm supplying you with energy continually, why do I not feel a difference?"

"Well, you definitely felt it last night with how much energy you'd used to summon me. A good night of rest fixed that, but you're not feeling it right now because of what I did here while you slept. I made some tweaks to your defenses and added a couple of things for my own benefit. I turned the place into a little workshop, so I'm drawing magical energy from the apartment itself. As long as I'm in here, there won't be any kind of drain on your part."

Connor sighed and huffed, his smile betraying any irritation. Ordinarily, Connor would be incensed at the idea of anyone fiddling with his runes. After seeing how drastic the difference in ability there was between himself and Caster, however, he couldn't find any reason to say no. If his home was now more secure than ever, then he had no grounds to object.

"You're… just chomping at the bit with this whole arrangement, aren't you?"

"Just trying to make a good impression on my first day." Caster grinned, quite satisfied with himself.

"Heh, well, it's working." Connor chuckled, then leaned his head into his hands. "Oh, man… This is a lot to take in."

"How d'ya think I felt, kid? I'm still not done explaining everything." The spirit stood up from the table, taking his plate and Connor's to the kitchen. "We haven't even covered the bullshit Class system yet, but that'll have to wait till later. Someone's at the door."

Connor had sensed it, too, and had a good feeling about who it could be. He stood up and passed the kitchen, putting a finger to his lips as he walked by. He opened the door, and was greeted with a blond-haired girl who seemed to radiate happiness from every pore in her fair skin.

"Morning, Asia."

"Good morning, Connor," the former nun beamed. "You weren't at the stairs like you usually are, so I came to check on you. Is everything alright?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he waved off, now realizing just how long he'd been talking to Caster. "I just got a little sidetracked this morning, that's all. I'll be with you in a minute, gotta get my stuff together."

"Okay."

He closed the door, and not a moment later, Caster peeked his head out from the kitchen with that smirk of his now bearing a more wry angle.

"A maiden diligently waiting for you every morning? Lucky guy."

"Not every morning," Connor clarified. "I'm usually the one that waits for her because she doesn't like walking to and from school alone."

"Well, aren't you the gentleman?" the druid chaffed. "So, who is she?"

"Her name's Asia. I helped her out a while back with some… problems. Now, she's my next door neighbor and my classmate."

"Must've been some problems, with how tightly wound around you she is."

That actually made Connor stop and think. Asia had been trying to get him to study with her more in the last few days, which he humored a couple of times. He'd also seen her taking sideways glances at him every now and then on their walks to and from school, only to turn red in the face once he caught her doing it. Her childlike innocent nature made it hard to tell if this was a genuine crush, or if her new friends in 2-C were urging her to enact some cliché high school romance story.

"Yeah, it was… quite the conundrum. That's a story for later, though, I need to get going. Do me a favor and wash off the dishes while I get dressed."

"Sure, sure," Caster acquiesced.

Connor sped through his normal morning cleanup routine, at one point doing three tasks at once to save a few seconds. As he slipped on his blazer, he caught a glimpse of the mark again. The sight brought to mind something he meant to ask earlier, so he finished quickly, then went back to the kitchen.

"Hey, quick question, can you..." He stopped when he noticed Caster derisively looking him up and down. "What's wrong?"

"Who died?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, it's just the school uniform. I wanted to ask: Is there any way to conceal the command spells? I can't pass it off as a bruise, and people are going to ask questions."

"What's the issue? You're already going outside in that, so who's gonna care? Just call it a tattoo."

"I would if I could, but students aren't allowed to have tattoos. It's against the dress code, and the school takes the rules very seriously."

The spirit rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of… Kid, in my time, nobody gave a damn about what they looked like unless they were royalty or hideously disfigured. Sometimes both, if one of the parents pissed off the gods hard enough. Scars and markings are badges of honor. But… fine, whatever, give it here."

He held a beckoning hand to Connor, but didn't wait for the magus to take it. Instead, he took Connor by the wrist and quickly traced a single Inguz rune over the mark. Right before the magus' eyes, the blood-red pattern all but disappeared from his skin. He could still feel its presence via Structural Grasp, but there was nary a dot of discoloration to be found.

"There we go. Easy." Caster nodded, allowing Connor to admire his work. "I set it to disappear if you use one of the seals, but I don't see that happening for a while, so you're welcome."

'Huh… never thought to use it like that.'

"Anyway, if you're about to head out, I think I'll go with you today. You know, just so you and the little lady aren't walking alone."

Connor made to refute, but only caught a glimpse of the man's smirk as he vanished once again into spirit form. That could get annoying in no time.

'Don't think that you'll always get the last word in by doing that.' Connor tested the mental link.

'Yeah, I know. Just wanted to try it at least once.' He could practically hear the smirk that was still present on the spirit's face.

For some reason, it made him smile, too.

Exiting the apartment, invisible guardian in tow, Connor began the usual trek to school beside the exiled nun. The walk to school was largely silent, save for Asia's morning chatter about how God's hand was at work with the wonderful weather. June in Japan hit just the right balance between warm and cool, and was a pleasant precursor to the temperatures encountered in July and August. He wasn't bothered by the increasing humidity, and in fact welcomed it; warm and humid beat cold and dry any day.

Upon arriving at the front gate, he felt Caster come to a stop, prompting him to do the same.

"Connor?" The blonde looked back to him.

"It's nothing, Asia. Just remembered something, go on ahead."

The girl merely nodded and went on her way. Once she was out of sight, he heard Caster give a whistle.

'That's a lot of Bounded Fields. I can barely see the main building.'

'Yeah, those got put up last week,' the Master noted. 'Not sure how effective they'd be against you, but I don't wanna risk you getting detected by any of them. I'm already on the owner's watch list, and she's been going nuts with security.'

'Something I should be aware of between the two of you?'

Connor shook his head. 'That's another story that's too long to tell right now, so let's put a pin in it for after I get back this evening. If you want, you can take a look around town, but be careful if you do. This owner and her group's familiars are on constant patrol now.'

'No worries, they won't see me,' the warrior druid casually dismissed. 'We can still communicate like this in the meantime, so I'll let you know if something comes up.'

'Sounds good. Oh, and Grímnir?'

'Yeah?'

'If you find something to eat that catches your eye, let me know.'

'Heh! Will do.'

Connor stayed still at the gates, his gaze fixed in the direction of downtown Kuoh where his Servant's presence drifted away.

Servant. That word would take some getting used to. For all his criticisms about the Devil's hierarchy of servitude, he now found himself in a strangely similar scenario.

Today was a good day to be at school. He needed time to think on things.

---

At the Gremory mountain getaway, Issei followed Kiba into the main study.

It was time. The ten days of emergency training were now finished, and it was finally time to send that arrogant fried chicken into the dirt!

Or so he would say to anyone who asked. The truth was that he was scared. And who wouldn't be? Rias' entire future was at stake and, very possibly, the futures of everyone else were as well! So many things could go wrong to jeopardize their chances at any point that it made his hands sweaty just thinking about it.

It seemed like everybody was thinking along the same lines.

Koneko was eating sweets like she usually did, although she did so much more slowly now. She was letting the taste linger to give her some last-minute comfort, he presumed. Kiba went back to the sword cleaning kit he had laid out on the table between the sofas, working one of his demonic blades to a mirror finish. Akeno stood off to Rias' side, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Her own hands were trembling from anxiety, which might have been why there was no tea currently served to anyone.

The tension in the air was so thick, Issei imagined himself cutting it with a blunt knife.

"Good, we're all here," Rias said, standing up from her desk. "Everyone, this is going to be our big debut onto the rating game scene. Official or not, all eyes will be on this match. My brother called this morning to inform me that Grayfia will be handling the announcements, so I can imagine that the Satans will be watching as well.

"I won't lie: the odds are horribly against us. We're outnumbered and outgunned, so to speak. But I believe that quality will win the day over quantity. Riser thinks that this going to be another easy win for his 'spotless' record, but he doesn't know everyone here like I do. We've worked ourselves to the bone in order to throw this game back in his pompous face. The impression we'll leave after today will be talked about for years to come."

The confidence in her voice was contagious; Issei felt himself sit up a little taller. He stole a glance to his fellow peerage members, and each one now bore a small smile that helped bring one to his own face.

"And also…"

Rias paused to take a deep breath and give her peerage another resolute smile.

"Just know that, whatever happens, I'm proud to call every one of you my friends, my family. Now, let's deliver the upset of a lifetime!"

"Hai!"

Someone else silently chipped in with a fanged grin.

'An upset, you say? I'm in.'

---

…

(1): Grímnir, meaning either 'Hooded' or 'Masked One,' is one of the many names used as a guise by Odin in Old Norse poems, particularl y in th e  Grímnismál.

(2): Japanese omelet  made by rolling layers of fried beaten eggs together. Normally rolled into squares using a special skillet and cut into thick slices before serving.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 15: Game On

Even if he had known precisely what to expect, the fight to save Rias' future did not start as Issei had envisioned.

Supposedly, the ORC was going to be teleported to the location of the Rating Game, which he assumed was going to be somewhere in the Underworld. When the light from the spell faded, however, everyone was still in the clubroom. He worried that the spell failed somehow, like it had with him when he first started his client work, but Akeno told him to relax and take a look out the window.

When he did, his jaw dropped; the battlefield was an exact replica of Kuoh Academy. Every feature of the school grounds was recreated in masterful detail. The sky, however, was not so familiar. There was no blazing sun, no starry nighttime expanse, not even a bit of cloud cover. Instead, a breathtaking aurora, reminiscent of the famous Northern Lights, stretched as far as he could see.

The cold and clinical voice of Grayfia outlining the rules of the 'standard regulation Rating Game' snapped Issei out of his reverie.

Both teams were assigned home bases at the beginning: Rias' group was stationed at the ORC building, while Riser and his peerage occupied the new schoolhouse. Pawns on both sides had to enter the opponent's base in order to Promote, and the game wouldn't end until one of the Kings was either rendered unable to fight or conceded.

When the game commenced, Rias gathered everyone at her desk, directing attention to a rough diagram of the school grounds. The open ground between the two bases would be dangerous to cross, and going around the wooded areas was equally risky, since the enemy would likely be expecting such a move. The glaring disadvantage in numbers made every option difficult, but eventually, the group decided upon a course of action.

It was Kiba that suggested taking control of the gymnasium, which stood directly between both bases, even if it was slightly closer in proximity to the Phenex camp. He reasoned that taking the middle ground would allow more free reign for their team and put the odds more in their favor early on.

Rias agreed and designated Issei and Koneko to secure the gym first, then clear out and meet with Kiba at the track infield. Akeno would then destroy the gym as the two abandoned it, since it was too big to hold with their current numbers. From there, they would move and eliminate the enemy forces as a group while Akeno would provide air support.

Before that, though, Rias made it a point to establish a defensive line against enemy invasion. Dealing with one natural Queen would be bad enough. Taking on another eight Promoted Queens would be an outright invitation for defeat. She sent Kiba and Koneko to place magic traps around the clubhouse, and Akeno went out to cast illusion magic across the area as an added measure.

While the others were away, Rias beckoned Issei to one of the couches in a manner that Issei would describe as 'every normal dude's dream': by offering her lap as a pillow. Tears threatening to fall from his eyes, he gleefully complied, relishing in the warmth and luxurious softness of her thighs.

This was already a monumental victory for him over Riser. The mental image of himself standing triumphantly with Rias in his arms while the gigolo roared indignantly and boiled like a lobster was suddenly all the more–

Rias' hand coming to rest on his head snapped him out of his daydream. When nothing happened for about two seconds, he was prepared to ask what she was doing, until he felt something like a jolt of electricity that began at his heart and blasted all the way to the ends of his fingers and toes.

She then explained that, when he was reincarnated, his body wasn't able to handle the power necessary needed to revive him. To remedy that issue, she had sealed seven of the eight Pawns until he was more up to speed with the combative abilities of a Devil. The 'leaps and strides' he had made during the training allowed her to release one of those seals now and, even with just that one, he could feel the difference.

Once the others returned, Rias then dismissed everyone to take their positions. Issei followed Koneko to the gym, crossing an unsettlingly open area until they reached the south side of the building. Koneko suggested making use of of the emergency exits to get inside quietly, then they could check for enemy combatants from cover.

Sure enough, the enemy was in fact ready and waiting. The lights were out, but he could see the four figures standing in the center of the floor well enough to recognize them.

On the group's left, the blue-haired kimono girl with the staff –Mira– fixed her gaze on Issei as if preparing for a repeat of their first meeting.

To her left were the smaller pair of twins Issei remembered seeing, both looking to be no older than twelve. Physically, the two were perfectly identical; same white t-shirts, black shorts, height, hair color, eyes, everything. The only difference between them was the position of the hairbands on their heads: one on the left side, the other on the right side. That, and the respective red and blue chainsaws that they were carrying.

And on the far right was a young woman with black hair done into twin buns on either side of her head, and dressed in a navy blue qipao that barely hid anything from his wild imagination. In fact, now that he really looked at her, she reminded Issei of a popular female character from a 2D fighting game he spent days playing as a kid. Said character was one of his personal favorites.

"Don't bother hiding. We know you're there." Mira said, turning in their direction. The others followed her gaze, each of them seeming as ready for a fight as the next.

Koneko looked to Issei, who just shrugged. "Might as well now."

The two then stepped out from their spot and slowly approached the four servants of Phenex. The one in the qipao smiled confidently when she recognized Issei.

"Oh, it's you again. Hey, Mira, do you want another go at the one-hit wonder?" she asked her teammate, making the twins giggle.

"Of course." the bluenette replied.

Issei made to give a snappy comeback, but Koneko nudged his shoulder.

"I'll get the Rook, you deal with the others."

She didn't wait for a reply, and instead took off to engage the enemy Rook, who met her in the center and launched a series of jabs with flame-coated fists. Koneko ducked and weaved to avoid the attacks, using her smaller stature to her full advantage.

Off to the left, Mira brought her staff forward and glared at Issei. The twins simultaneously pulled the starter cords on their weapons, raising them over their heads as the motors roared to life.

"Rip and tear until it is done!" 'Lefty' shouted.

"Rip and tear, rip and tear!" 'Righty' chorused, cackling with maniacal glee.

'Oh, great, they're deranged…' Issei groaned to himself.

"Like the gardening tools weren't a big enough clue?" A deep, rumbling voice in his head almost made him shudder.

'Ddraig?'

"The one and only," the dragon answered smugly. "Now listen, I ran out of time trying to fix your head, but I did manage to work something in, so think of this as a trial run to see if it paid off."

'Wait, what?'

Mira made the first move, charging him with a jab much like in their first meeting. Issei tucked and rolled to her left, making her overshoot but she was quick to turn around and follow up. She continued to play the aggressor with very little success, a majority of her attacks being wide sweeps or long reaching jabs that steadily became easy to predict.

Issei smiled lightly. This chick's skill set was nothing special, and she was a lot slower than last time. Either that, or he was much faster to react. He was fine with both cases, since now he could pay her back for–

The revving of a chainsaw motor alerted him to someone trying to attack from behind. Changing direction, he charged Mira and redirected another strike from her staff just as one of the twins brought her weapon down right where he'd been standing. The second twin then gave chase while the first recovered from her miss.

So that was their game: The murderous munchkins were too slow to catch anyone by themselves, so their allies would harass and box their enemies right into them. It would have been a smart strategy if they used anything other than chainsaws, but he was not going to complain about that.

Kiba had warned him during the training trip about focusing too much on one enemy if he found himself outnumbered. That lesson was now paying for itself; he could keep his eyes on Mira while listening for the thrumming of the motors to discern how close the twins were getting to him.

Mira went for another strike to his head, but this time, he was ready to act. Ducking under the swing, he slipped into her guard and gave a hard right cross to the cheek. She yelped and stumbled back from the hit before using her staff to catch herself from falling. When she turned to glare at him again, he saw something that gave him slight pause.

A magic circle had appeared on her left cheek, right where he had punched her. It was bright red in color, like that of the Gremory circle, but there were no details to it other than a dragon's face occupying the area in the center where the Gremory family crest would normally reside. It was small, too; about the size of a large coin. Big enough to be noticed when looking at it, but not enough for her to know that it was there, apparently.

'Huh?'

Suddenly, the Boosted Gear manifested on his arm, startling him and briefly surprising Mira.

"Boost!" Ddraig's voice shouted from the gauntlet with an echo.

"What the–"

"Why you!" Mira growled and leapt for him again.

Issei found his attention getting pulled all over the place now. What was going on? Why had the Gear popped up without him prompting it? Between three enemies wanting to grind him into paste, this was not a good time for it to do that!

The twins made their presence known once more.

"Aagh! This is pissing me off!"

"Hold still so we can rip you!"

'Don't tell someone that!' he thought while putting more distance between himself and the two maniacs, with Mira in close pursuit.

"Boost!" The gauntlet shouted again, followed quickly by a more direct command.

"Hatchling! Repeat after me: Burst!"

With no time to question it, Issei complied. "U-uh, Burst?!"

The green jewel on his armored hand glowed, and in the next instant, the circle on Mira's cheek lit up, and an explosion of force blasted her across the face and knocked her down. She was struck so hard that when her head connected with the gym floor, it almost bounced. Her body immediately went limp and then rolled once and came to a stop on her side, facing away from Issei.

Issei, as well as the twins, blinked owlishly at where she had fallen, just before her body started to glow and become semi-transparent. Another second later, and Mira completely vanished.

"Lord Riser's Pawn has been retired," Grayfia declared, still as dispassionate as before.

'Ddraig … what the hell was that?!'

"Later. Finish off the small ones first."

As if on cue, the tiny terrors fixed Issei with fiery glares.

"Get him!" they screamed in unison.

Instead of employing their previous tactic, the two split up and swung around to attack Issei from both his left and right sides in a pincer move. An idea formed in Issei's mind as this happened. Now that they were separated, they couldn't defend each other, which gave him the perfect chance to pick them off.

He bolted for the one coming from his left. She squeezed the trigger of her weapon in surprise, spurring the blade to life and raised it up to try and eviscerate him.

Issei, acting on his idea, threw his left arm up and used the Boosted Gear as a shield to block the blade. Sparks flew and his arm shook from the impact, but the teeth did little more than scratch the gauntlet's surface. Steadying himself, Issei shifted his weight and pushed the chainsaw up and over her head, then kicked the girl hard in the stomach. She lurched and let go of her weapon, which had the grisly consequence of dropping it right on top of herself.

The blade was still spinning as it fell, tearing into her back and across her shoulder while slinging blood into the air and across the floor. The shriek of pain she let out could probably have been heard from all ends of the battlefield.

When the chainsaw finally came free of her flesh and hit the ground, she collapsed onto its engine, letting out a twitch before she lay motionless in a growing pool of blood.

Issei turned to look at the other twin, who stood in wide-eyed terror for a moment before tossing her own weapon away and held her hands up.

"I forfeit! I forfeit, please!" she yelled, tears in her eyes and begging for an escape.

Her desperate cries were answered, allowing her to join her sister in exiting the game.

"Lord Riser's two Pawns have been retired."

After their bodies disappeared completely, Issei sighed shakily, his hands clenching into fists and releasing. That sound, that image,… those were memories that he would gladly forget.

Another loud scream suddenly drew Issei's attention to the dueling Rooks, and he almost recoiled at what he saw: Koneko had stopped dodging her opponent's attacks and blocked a kick to her midsection. She had then trapped the offending leg and thrown a left hook into the knee, breaking the kneecap and forcing the lower leg to bend in a completely unnatural way.

The tiny first-year then hoisted her opponent over her head –by the ruined leg– and slammed her onto the floor. She then released the leg and straddled the older Rook, pinning her arms away from her sides and rained down fist after fist on her face. Every punch made the woman's body jolt. She tried to raise her arms in defense, but there was little she could do to stop the onslaught.

It took about a dozen hits, and Issei was almost relieved when the older Rook finally stopped moving and her body started fading away.

"Lord Riser's Rook has been retired."

Her enemy now defeated, Koneko stood up and turned to look at Issei. Her expression was as blank as ever, but somehow more menacing with its dismissal of her brutal actions and the blood on her knuckles. There was no way she didn't notice him flinch.

"Uh… I, uh…"

The stoic girl nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Good job."

Issei couldn't stop the grin from forming as he responded in kind. Finally, Koneko acknowledged him without a hint of disgust!

"You're still a pervert."

"Grk!"

It was like she knew what he was thinking, which just made the comment sting more than usual.

"Lord Riser's three Pawns have been retired."

"Geez… Kiba's not playing around, is he?" Issei asked with an awkward grin.

Koneko just shook her head.

"Koneko~ Ise~" Akeno spoke through the comm line, "you two better run, because I'm ready~"

"Let's go!"

"Mm."

The duo quickly adjourned the doomed building, heading for the planned rendezvous point between the track and baseball fields. Upon reaching it, they turned back just in time to see Akeno truly bring the house down.

In a single, massive deafening blast of lightning, the replicated gym came apart and exploded outward. Even while bracing for it, Issei was almost knocked backward by the incredible force of the shockwave. Wood, glass and steel were reduced to tiny bits in an instant, and concrete, brick and mortar was completely uplifted from the foundation and turned into pebbles.

Bits of rubble and debris rained down from the sky in every direction within a kilometer at least, some still burning while others were completely blackened. Nothing remained of the gym but a crater wide enough and deep enough to resemble a meteorite impact.

'If only it was the real thing.' Issei lamented. Devil or no, that gym was not his favorite place in the world.

"Okay." Issei chuckled, dusting off his blazer and shirt. "Now, let's see if we can find Kiba. Knowing him, he's probably already waiting at–"

"WATCH OUT!"

Issei turned to look at Koneko and, out of the corner of his eye, caught a small glimpse of an unknown magic circle that had suddenly appeared underneath her. His vision was then obscured by blurs after she shoved him away, followed shortly by an even more concussive explosion than what he had just witnessed, which sent him flying a good distance away and rolling for several more yards.

When he finally stopped, Issei unsuccessfully tried to shake the high-pitched ringing in his ears and get the ground back underneath his feet

"K–… Koneko?!" he tried to call out, but all he heard was a mumbling sound, barely audible past the ringing.

He shakily looked around until he saw her lying facedown several yards away amidst a field of dirt and rock. He staggered to his feet, stumbling several times as he fought to get to her and keep himself moving in a straight line. Finally reaching her –almost falling on her, really– he tried to look her over and see how badly she was hurt, but…

Past all the dust, debris,… and blood… it was hard to make out her condition.

He had to tear his eyes away from the horrible sight. When he did, he saw something approaching in the air space from above the assembly hall and come to a stop directly above them.

It was the big-breasted bimbo that had played tonsil hockey with Riser in front of Rias. The enemy Queen, whatever her name was. She was saying something, looking infuriatingly proud of herself, but he couldn't hear a word of it.

She aimed her scepter at the two, readying another blast to finish them off, but a colossal blast of lightning coming from her left forced her to focus on defending herself. Issei hunched over Koneko's body and covered his eyes, blinded by the flash and shaken from the accompanying thunderclap. However briefly, his already numb eardrums were doubly assaulted by what felt like nails and a hammer. When the pain subsided enough for him to look up, he saw a familiar figure in the sky staring down the enemy Queen.

Lightning arced and crackled between Akeno's outstretched fingers. Her signature sultry smile was still present, but the playful glint in her eyes was gone. Instead, she glared at her new opponent with an outrage that she seemed barely able to contain. Her typical teasing expression now promised utter torment.

Issei read her lips well enough to make out what she said next, and had he heard it, he would have noticed the malice in her voice.

"Oh my… You've made a big mistake, Bomb Queen."

---

Back at the real Kuoh Academy, Sona and Tsubaki were seated at their desks in the Student Council room, observing the game as it was broadcast across most of the Underworld.

The situation for Rias and her peerage was grim to begin with, and now had only just become worse. Faced with a staggering numerical disadvantage, every loss would be a critical one. Koneko had only just barely sensed something was amiss, and moved to save Issei from certain elimination at the cost of herself.

Now she was down, and Yubelluna, the enemy Queen, prepared to finish the two off with another earth-shaking blast. Sona had a tight grip on the arm of her chair until Akeno arrived on the scene just in time to stop her, then drive her away with a barrage of lightning spells. No sooner were the two Queens out of visual range than Kiba appeared. He took a moment to assess Koneko's condition, then snapped Issei out of his apparent daze with a hard shake.

"To think that Issei Hyōdō had the Boosted Gear all along," Tsubaki muttered, her gaze set curiously on Rias' Pawn as he followed Kiba to refuge while carrying Koneko. "I suppose it is no wonder, then, that he required all of Rias' Pawn Pieces."

Sona didn't comment aloud; she simply continued to watch in silent contemplation.

'You truly spent a lifetime's worth of luck with him, Rias.'

---

In the grand viewing suite designated for the highest of Devil nobles, whispers and murmurs fluttered about like leaves in the wind. Some were out of surprise and approval, others were from shock and denial.

Whatever the words being uttered, they were music to his ears.

Sirzechs could barely contain his smile at the show his beloved sister's servants were delivering. Rias herself hadn't even taken to the field yet, and her opponent's fighting force was whittled down by nearly half without much of any trouble. She had certainly done her homework; her tactics were a direct counter to any move Riser's team would make. Infiltrator Pawns, funneled and eliminated; contested strategic point, secured and destroyed. A truly fantastic start.

But, of course, just as that thought crossed his mind, Riser's Queen blindsided two of Rias' servants, seriously wounding one of them. This was not the time or place for him to be jinxing his sister's good fortune.

The marriage contract between the two Kings had been arranged before either was ever born, in an effort bring the houses together and form a stronger bond for their kind as a whole moving forward. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but somewhere down the line, Riser became arrogant and self-absorbed, using his status as a Phenex like a crutch in order to have his way. His eldest brother, Ruval, had tried to steer him away from that path to very little avail, according to their father.

While he did not mistreat or abuse them, Riser ultimately viewed his servants as his property. Sirzechs had no doubt that the scion of Phenex would view Rias as such once the two were wed.

Devil politics being what they were, Sirzechs was no longer part of the Gremory household and thus had no say in the matter. Trying to interfere would be negatively received by the vast majority of the Devil population, who would then call his authority into question and further the divide between the older generation and the new. Their people needed unity, not dissent. Suggesting the rating game as a means to break off the engagement was about the only thing he could legally do to help her, even if she might not see it that way.

Well, whether she did or didn't had little bearing on the situation anymore. The die was cast, and Rias was making her move count. With their performance thus far, she and her peerage were sending a clear message to everyone in the Underworld watching them: 'We are not to be taken lightly.'

'Keep going, Rias! Just maintain your momentum!'

---

"How is she?" Issei glanced back to his teammates.

The three had taken cover in one of the old equipment storage sheds beside the soccer field. Luckily, there was just enough room within this one to lay Koneko down on her stomach and allow for Kiba to treat her as best he could. Issei stood by the door, keeping watch for any remaining members of Riser's peerage.

"She's taken a lot of damage," Kiba solemnly replied, working as carefully as possible to remove bits of dirt and shrapnel from the girl's legs. "Her Rook's toughness helped her withstand it, but only just."

Looking at her now, that was understandable; it might as well have been a landmine going off underneath her. The back of Koneko's uniform, skirt and socks were completely shredded by the blast, exposing the numerous puncture wounds in her lower back and legs caused by flying debris. She was a bloody mess, but curiously, her undies remained intact, so her petite backside stayed just barely covered.

If the image of that other Rook's shattered knee wasn't still fresh on his mind, Issei would've been growling in envy at his male colleague for the close-up view he was getting and not truly appreciating. Gentleman that Kiba was, though, he remained focused and stoic as he worked.

"It's my fault. I let my guard down and she took the hit for me."

"The fault lies with all of us, Ise. Their Queen never employed sneak attacks in their previous games, and we assumed that she couldn't. We knew she was going to be one of the bigger problems at any rate, but I guess Riser was keeping a few surprises of his own."

"Just a split-second later and Koneko would've been–"

"Don't go there," Kiba warned, not glancing up from his patient. "She's still here and so are we. That's what matters most."

"Yeah… Uh, hey, remind me again. You can't actually die in a rating game, right?"

"No, of course not," the Knight confirmed. "In the beginning, when the system was first introduced, there were some cases of accidental deaths. But in the centuries since then, it's been heavily refined to prevent that from reoccurring. You might experience great pain or the sensation of imminent death, but no physical damage that is dealt here will carry over into the real world."

"Okay… That's good." Issei nodded grimly and returned to his lookout duty. It definitely made sense; Nothing taught anyone the consequences of mistakes better than seeing someone get killed because of them. At least in a game, said consequences wouldn't be so permanent.

His left hand absently drifted toward his stomach, just barely brushing his shirt.

Nothing more was said between the shed's occupants for another two minutes, the silence between the three only broken by an occasional pained hiss from Koneko. Off in the distance, Issei could hear the lightning strikes and explosions as Akeno continued to battle the enemy Queen. The false earth shook with each blast, enough to make him feel them all in his feet and make his stomach hop around.

After a while of no enemies coming into sight, he decided to use this lull in the action to get some answers from his tenant.

'Okay, Ddraig, what exactly did you do to me?'

"Give me some credit, hatchling,"the dragon chided."That little number might become our trump card against Albion, whose host you'll likely meet someday soon, by the by."

'Who– Okay, fine, whatever, but what was that? How did I know how to do that back at the gym?'

"Hmm… If you're making the connection on a subconscious level but you don't actively remember how, then there was still a conflict between your real memory and the altered one… Damn, just something else to patch…" Ddraig mumbled, as if he was just taking notes.

"Hey, are you even listening?"

"Alright, let's recap. A Devil's brand of magic runs on imagination, right?"

'Yeah.'

"And you've got holes in your mind big enough to fly a large airplane through, right?"

'…Uhh–'

"I'll take that as 'yes.' So, bearing in mind that I'm doing what I can to patch up this block of swiss cheese you call a brain, I had an epiphany right about the time we met: What if I were to plant some of my ideas into your head as a replacement memory, then fill in the blank area around that false memory to make your mind believe that it was entirely your own?"

Issei's eyes widened after a brief period of thought.

'That's–'

"Genius? I thought so. If you can't find a memory, make one up, instead. It's not a perfect solution, obviously, but I'm tickled that it worked for the most part."

'Wait, so you didn't even know that it would work?!'

"Have you ever tried putting together a puzzle with most of the pieces missing? I told you that I don't mess with the human mind very much, but yours is a problem that I can't leave alone. It'll be a detriment to us both. I have to reverse engineer your memories; find the hole, plant something that will adequately fit, then fabricate every other detail surrounding it in order to seal it all off. It's tedious and time-consuming, but it's the best I can do without turning you into a damned vegetable."

His brow furrowed. He didn't like the idea of being treated like an experiment, but the thought of constant memory loss was even less appealing. If this really was all that Ddraig could accomplish safely, then he could bear with it for a little while.

'Alright,… so, where in my head did you put this replacement?'

"About four days ago, during your training trip. You were trying to figure out an original spell at the Queen's behest, then your mind wandered and you blanked out."

'Ah shit! That's what I was afraid would happen!'

"Don't stress about it, hatchling. You were actually on to something clever before it went dark; I just used your original idea as a springboard. If I remember correctly, it had something to do with you wanting to destroy an opponent's defenses with ease, including their clothing, but–"

'Whoa whoa whoa, hey, wait a minute!' Issei hurriedly interjected. 'You mean to tell me,… that I was cooking up a spell that could strip a girl naked in an instant?'

Ddraig's irritated sigh was answer enough, and Issei barely stopped himself from screaming out loud.

'What the fuck, man?! That just makes me feel even worse! Give it back, you overgrown gecko! Gimme back my brilliant idea!'

"Servants of Gremory!"

A call from outside interrupted Issei's internal tirade. He peeked outside to see that four more of Riser's servants had entered the clearing outside the shed. Two of them were armed with swords, the third was dressed in a formal kimono, and the fourth had a mishmash of half-there-and-half-not modern clothing and a white mask. All of them were staring intently at the shed.

"There's nowhere you can hide!" One of the two swordswomen, an armor-clad brunette, continued. "Face us in battle and fall with pride, or be swept away by the might of House Phenex!"

…

…

'Seriously?' Issei thought as his eyebrow twitched.'If they know we're here, why not just blow us up right now and be done with it? Are these people as arrogant as Yakitori-sama, or just plain stupid?'

"Might makes right in the Underworld, and a good fight makes for a good show. Also, Lord Grilled Chicken? I thought you and your Rook agreed that he was a fried chicken."

'Shut up! I'm still pissed at you!'

"You'll get over it, especially after you get this spell really working for you. So, how about instead of lamenting your desire to see unclothed females, you focus on your drive to beat Yakitori-sama and save your master from becoming his trophy wife?"

Issei winced. Damn, there was no arguing with a point like that.

'…We'll talk later.'

"Can't wait."

Their conversation now over, Issei turned as Kiba let out a sigh and stood up, wiping the blood off of his hands.

"I've extracted what I could, but we're out of time." Kiba reported. "She'll have to stay put until we're clear."

"So what do we do about them?" Issei asked, tilting his head to the door.

"Do you have to ask? We take advantage of their overconfidence."

A sword hilt emerged from the earth directly at Kiba's left side. The blonde Knight reached down and gripped the weapon, pulling it completely out from the earth and revealing an elegant katana. Even in the current absence of light, his steel gray irises almost glinted off the cold metal of his new weapon.

"Sun Tzu once said that the opportunity for defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself. I took out their first wave of invaders before they even knew what hit them. The ones out there don't know what I can really do, and I'm going to make them regret giving us this chance."

"Wait a minute," Issei cut in. "Have you actually read 'The Art of War?'"

Kiba chuckled. "Front to back. My Master wouldn't let me put it down until he could quiz me on what he considered the most important parts. But we're getting off track. How many of them are there?"

Issei took another look, counting heads. "I see… four… no, wait, five! That blonde girl in twintails just came out from behind the others."

"That would be Ravel. She never did fight in any of Riser's previous games; she just gave out orders in the field while her brother stayed at the base. With six of their Pawns and one Rook out, and their Queen fighting Akeno, that leaves all but two of Riser's servants out there currently. Those missing two are probably his last Pawns, looking to Promote. We can leave them be; if the remaining traps around the base don't take them out, Buchō will."

"It's still sickening to me that he included his own little sister in his…" Issei shuddered, willing that line of thought away like it were a ghost leaving his body. "Ugh, never mind. What are the chances of taking Ravel out?"

"Ours? Zero. Thanks to her family's ability to reform from damage, we can't count on her retiring by anything but her own free will, which she has never done. All we can do is divide and conquer the others. I'll deal with the Knights, then we can face the other two together."

Issei nodded and reached for the door. It was now or never.

"Ise…"

Both boys turned to see Koneko looking back up at them, Issei in particular.

"Ise has a… new technique… effective…" she ground out.

"What is she talking about?"

Issei scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Uhh, it… Ddraig did something with my head to help with my memory problem. I'm not really sure about it myself, but it worked on one of the Pawns at the gym, so maybe…"

Kiba hummed and glanced down, then nodded. "Alright. In that case, leave both of the Knights to me, and you focus solely on their Rook. I can draw the Bishop's attention and dodge their attacks."

Before Issei could make a joke about Kiba once again hogging all the girls for himself, the voice of Riser's servant that had called to them earlier called out again.

"Servants of Gremory! You have five seconds to comply. Come out, or be obliterated! Five!"

"Here we go." Issei exhaled, reaching for the door again.

"…not yet… I'm not… not out of this fight yet!" Koneko hissed through gritted teeth, pushing herself up.

"Four!"

Kiba turned back and put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Of course you're not, but right now, you need to stay still and rest while you can."

"Three!"

"We'll come and get you once we're all clear outside."

"Two!"

"Trust us, Koneko. We've got this," Issei assured.

"One!"

Issei kicked the door open, catching the sight of three out of the four servants standing ready with fire magic. Ravel remained where she was at the back of the group, seemingly peeved at his and Kiba's appearance.

'Ooh, shit, that was scary close!'

"And I thought Karlamine was overly-dramatic!" The other Knight, wielding a broadsword, complained loudly. "They waited until she got to 'one?'"

"The one in the mask is their Rook. Isabela, I believe. Close-range fighter, so be careful," Kiba quietly advised Issei before stepping forward.

The brunette Knight looked him up and down for a moment, then nodded to herself. "I am Karlamine, Knight of Lord Riser Phenex. Tell me your name, fellow warrior, and let us fight for the honor of our masters' houses."

Issei could hear Ravel grumbling about 'role-play,' 'nonsense' and 'swords.' Oh, so her frustration was more with Karlamine than it was with them. He couldn't blame her; that declaration was just cringeworthy.

"If circumstances were different, I would happily take you up on your offer, Ms. Karlamine," Kiba replied courteously. "Today, however, I simply cannot afford to oblige."

Karlamine was about to object, but in the next instant that Issei blinked, Kiba was upon her. The armored Knight, surprised by the unceremonious aggression, brought up her weapon just in time to block a strike to her throat.

From there, the blades moved too fast for Issei to follow, but he caught glimpses of the Knights' expressions as they fought; Kiba was calm and focused, while Karlamine was getting frustrated and desperate. She could keep up with him, but Kiba's attacks were so relentless that he left no room for her to counter. All she could do was defend.

'Is he even touching the ground?' an awestruck Issei wondered.

Isabela took the opportunity to attack and broke into a run for Issei. Raising his arms to guard, Issei braced for round two.

The Rook began with a quick series of jabs and high kicks that forced Issei to move backwards. Her stance was tight, and she wasn't leaving any room for him to step around her attacks or counterattack, unlike with Mira. He looked everywhere, but couldn't find any holes in her defense. He would just have to make a risky move.

In a manner similar to his first fight, he redirected a straight punch and jumped into his opponent's guard, landing a fist into her gut before she could send an effective kick, then hopped back again. She flinched very slightly, but didn't break her stride in attacking him, the magic circle he planted going unnoticed as the Boosted Gear appeared on Issei's arm once again.

'Gotcha.'

"Boost!"

"Hmph, so you did improve," the masked Rook smirked. "Good. I thought this would be too easy."

"You and everyone else I've fought so far," Issei commented, which just made her smirk widen.

Issei ducked under another sweeping kick to his head, then leaped away as his opponent turned on her heel and brought down her outstretched leg in an ax kick. The ground where her foot landed broke apart and sent rather sizable chunks of dirt into the air.

While she possessed good reach and terrifying strength, she was slower than Koneko, and this blend of kickboxing and standard boxing she used had a slightly bigger windup than Koneko's punches. As long as he avoided the legs, he could do what he needed to do and escape without taking a hit.

"Gaagh–augh!"

Issei glanced over to the strangled sound, and saw that Kiba had run his blade completely through Karlamine's chest. The enemy Knight was slumped over his shoulder, her own weapon having fallen from her limp fingers. Kiba swiftly pulled his weapon from her limp body and wasted no time in attacking the Second Knight.

"Lord Riser's Knight has been retired." Grayfia announced while Karlamine disappeared into flecks of light.

"Pay attention, idiot!" Isabela shouted. Issei barely ducked under a surprise haymaker and shoved her away. As he did this, he noticed another circle make its appearance on her shoulder where he pushed her.

Slowly but surely, the clues were coming together for the neophyte Pawn. Ddraig's little spell only worked if Issei's hands made contact with an enemy, and even just touching them was enough to place a new circle.

'Good to know, but still, gotta hit with power!'

The Rook turned back around to attack him again, but this time, he was ready for her. Once she closed the distance, he launched a right hook, aiming for her temple.

"Boost!"

Isabela mirrored his move, however, and sent a left hook of her own into his jaw at the same time. He felt something crack from that hit, probably a tooth. Fighting the urge to try and spit it out, he instead pushed her arm away and stepped back to give himself a bit of breathing room, inadvertantly placing another circle on her elbow in the process.

But more importantly than that, he'd heard the Boosted Gear go off before the hit as opposed to what happened all the other times. That must have meant there was some other kind of interval between Boosts, and placing a new tag would have no effect on it. A time limit, maybe. There wasn't anything else that he'd done differently in his other fights, besides placing more than one circle.

Playing the waiting game was going to suck, but on the bright side, that also gave him more time to hit the enemy and get them covered in circles before the final hit.

Isabela came at him again, the frustration now showing in her movements and her expression. She was getting sloppy as a result. He weaved through a combo of straights and kicks before he found an opening and delivered a strong uppercut right to her chin. Her head jolted slightly, but not enough to stop her aggressive attacks.

"Lord Riser's Knight has been retired." The voice of Grayfia resounded again.

'Damn, Kiba's on a roll!'

"Boost!"

Upon the third Boost, Issei felt something within himself vibrate, as if his every fiber in his body was shaking from stockpiled energy.

'What the hell's going on?'

"You're getting close to your limit, hatchling. Go beyond one more and your body may rattle itself to pieces!"

'Whoa, no thank you!'

Isabela made ready to charge again, but Issei had other ideas.

"Burst!"

The magic circles on the Rook's body simultaneously lit up and then imploded, delivering the Boosted Gear's accumulated power all at once: Abdomen, left leg, right shoulder, left elbow and chin. Issei could've sworn on his life that he heard a very dramatic *CRACK* as her head whipped violently upward and her jaw carried the force into her skull.

She staggered for about a half-second, then her eyes rolled in her head as she fell backward, unconscious before she hit the ground. No sooner did that happen than her body faded away, signaling her elimination.

"Lord Riser's Rook has been retired."

Just like he had done at the gym, Issei gawked at where his enemy had fallen before an excited grin stretched across his face.

'This… this spell is BADASS! Still gotta get my first idea back, but holy shit! This is awesome!'

So lost was he in his celebration that he failed to hear Ddraig's quiet chuckle of satisfaction.

---

Ravel looked on in shock from her place away from the fighting.

This made no sense; there was no way Rias' peerage could make such a drastic improvement in such a short time! Two weeks ago, that impulsive weakling of a Pawn went down from one hit to the stomach by Mira, the weakest of Riser's peerage. Here, he stood his ground against Isabela and won!

Then there were all the Pawns. What had happened to them? How did they get knocked out of the running so soon?

What happened in those ten days that could result in this?!

"Lady Rave– Aaugh!"

Mihae didn't get another word out due to the sword now jutting from her chest, a spray of red painting the ground before her. In her shock, Ravel turned and saw Lady Rias' Knight had attacked from behind, his blade driven completely through Mihae's back. Just as he had done to Karlamine and Siris, he tore his weapon from her body and allowed the girl to collapse at his feet.

"Lord Riser's Bishop has been retired."

The Knight calmly flicked his sword to his right, slinging the blood off of it, then turned to look at Ravel. She felt a chill run down her spine as well as the urge to swallow a lump in her throat. His stare was rather intense, like he had neither pride nor regret at the manner in which he had just slaughtered his enemies. She couldn't tell if he–

"Lady Ravel, when this is over, please tell your colleagues that I had no choice but to end the battle quickly. This is not simply a game for Buchō, so I could not treat it as one myself."

The daughter of Phenex blinked in surprise at the earnest request, then cleared her throat.

"O-Oh, no, it's quite alright. As a servant, you do what you must for your master to achieve victory. But yes, I'll be sure to inform them that it was nothing personal." She was half-expecting him to try and run her through as well, but was glad that he chose otherwise.

Rias' Pawn approached the two as they spoke, stopping to stand by his teammate's side. Ravel took careful note to the crimson gauntlet, recollecting from her home studies about the Longinus and their unlimited potential. It was no wonder then that the Pawn had improved in such a short time.

"You've given a very impressive show so far, but it won't be enough in the end. This battle belongs to Phenex. You cannot defeat my brother."

"Lord Riser's Queen has been retired," Grayfia's voice resounded again, making Ravel's mouth dropped open.

"W-What?! Yubelluna, too?!"

"Lord Riser's two Pawns have been retired."

The handsome Knight firmly nodded. "And it seems Buchō just dealt with the last two Pawns. The field has been cleared of all distractions."

"You were saying?" the Pawn asked her, grinning like a buffoon.

Ravel's mouth moved, but no words came out for several seconds. This was not happening. It was not possible! The entire team was wiped out, leaving her as the last one standing, and without a single loss on the enemy side! That had never happened before! Riser's peerage had incurred losses in past games, yes, but not like this!

This was the kind of result she would expect if they had gone up against someone in the Top Ten, not a first-time player to the sport! What had Lady Rias been doing with these people?!

Even with Riser urging everyone at the start to not hold back, to crush the enemy completely. Even with everyone giving the battle everything they had…

They were decimated…

With a rather indignant huff, Ravel regained enough composure to glare at the Pawn.

"This, changes, nothing. My brother is stronger than all of his servants combined, including me; you stand no chance against him! But, if you won't listen to me, then fine. Go right ahead. You'll see what I mean you face him in battle and fall just like all the others have. Maybe then, you'll learn to recognize that there are some battles you simply cannot win."

Having nothing more to say, Ravel turned and walked away, looking to find some place to wait out the remainder of the game. In the end, they were no different, which was truly a shame. They thought they could succeed where others hadn't simply because they had done well in the early and mid-game. But none of that mattered, as they would soon find out.

Nobody ever outlasted a Phenex. Nobody.

---

Issei's eyes darted from corner to corner as he, Rias and Kiba carefully advanced through the simulated halls of the main school building.

Having regrouped at the tennis courts, the ORC took stock of their conditions. Kiba and Issei were still in good shape and high spirits, with nine out of fourteen eliminations between the two of them.

Kiba was thus far unscathed, having only conjured three swords with his Sacred Gear, the crystalline straight sword currently in his hand dubbed Flame Delete being the third. Throughout the battle, he had more heavily utilized the swordsmanship style of his mentor, in order to keep his true power from being discovered and possibly dissected. (1)

Issei, while somewhat roughed up, felt that he was getting a better grasp for Ddraig's 'experiment.' With every strike he landed, the resulting tags –as he took to calling them– would deliver double the initial force when he triggered the spell. Additionally, every Boost that he achieved would then double that resulting force on top of itself, so with enough Boosts, he could deal focused exponential damage. (2)

It was rough and still needed plenty of work, but it made him wonder: What would happen if he hit the exact same place multiple times? Could the final result be made into a single gigantic blast, or maybe a sequence of increasingly powerful hits that just drilled through the enemy? He didn't know for sure, but he was more than ready to try it out on Riser's face.

Unfortunately, for Team Rias, that was where the good news ended.

Koneko, clothed in her Kuoh gym outfit, moved with a hobble due to the amount of shrapnel still in her legs that Kiba couldn't remove. Her attempt at a stoic expression couldn't hide the pain she was still experiencing. Direct combat was not an option for her.

Akeno wasn't much better herself. Her battle with the enemy Queen, Yubelluna, had been close until the woman had used something called Phoenix Tears that allowed her to recover from her wounds halfway through the fight. Having essentially fought the strongest member of the enemy team besides Riser two consecutive times, Akeno succeeded only by grappling her opponent and using her own body as a taser to completely paralyze the older woman. Because of this, she was now too exhausted to continue; she could hardly stand up straight with how intensely her legs were shaking.

Although, given the sadomasochist's expression, the trembling might have just been a result of her arousal from self-electrocution.

Akeno had urged the others to go on without her and Koneko, worried that they would be a liability against Riser in their state, but Rias immediately protested. She wanted for everyone to see this battle through to the end, having come so far and defied the odds against them. It took the combined efforts of Kiba, Akeno and even Issei to talk their King out of this show of pride. It was not the ideal victory she had wanted, but time was short, so she reluctantly allowed for Akeno and Koneko to retire themselves from the game.

Even with two of their own absent from the final battle, Team Gremory's spirits were high. At least, until they went inside.

Upon entering the main hall, Issei Promoted to Queen and took point, with Kiba then Rias following close. Something was wrong, though. They'd moved for more than a minute now and met no sort of resistance.

"I don't like this…" Kiba muttered.

Neither did Issei. He figured that someone like Riser would be waiting for them and ready to throw down immediately. And yet, despite having so much time to prepare while the fights outside raged, Riser had apparently done nothing in advance. There were no signs of traps or ambush points anywhere on the first floor. It didn't matter if Issei could see in the dark; the eerie atmosphere of an unlit school hallway never failed to make his skin crawl, just as it was doing now.

"There is no way he's not ready for us. He must be trying to play with our heads. Just stay calm." Rias reminded her servants. Easier said than done, especially since Issei could hear the edge in her voice, too.

Rounding a corner, Issei tensed as he caught sight of something by a staircase that led to the second floor. He felt Kiba grab his arm, ready to pull him away from whatever made him freeze.

Issei stood still as the creature he witnessed locked eyes with him. It was an ugly cross of several different kinds of birds and colored in numerous shades of red, yellow and orange. Either Riser's familiar, or his pet phoenix. The bird silently stared at him, perched on the staircase railing, before it cawed and took off up the stairway.

He looked back to his King and fellow servant, pointing with his left thumb toward the stairs. "What was that about?"

"I think that Riser has just issued his challenge; he wants to fight us himself."

Rias nodded. "Yes, that's more like him. Keep your guard up. Let's go."

The group advanced up the stairway slightly more quickly, now that they were somewhat assured of Riser's intent to face them in battle.

When the group saw the bird again, it was standing directly in front of the door to the Student Council office. It unfurled a wing and pointed toward the door, directing them toward their destination before vanishing in a plume of fire.

The three looked to one another again. Stealth was pointless at this stage. He knew they were there, and the game would not end until a King went down. Something had to give, and Riser made it clear that he had no intent to concede.

Rias stiffly exhaled and opened the door to the Council Room. Weapons and Gear ready, the boys ushered themselves in first, while the object of their anxiety made no move to act upon their entrance.

Seated in a chair turned out toward the school grounds was Riser Phenex, looking exactly as he did when he had first graced them with his presence two weeks ago. Blond hair, blue eyes, Hugh Hefner knock-off suit, holier-than-thou disposition; it was all there. In his hand was a half-empty wine glass, and a bottle of the stuff sat on an end table next to the chair.

He looked over his shoulder and regarded the new arrivals as Rias stepped through the doorway into the room, then focused on his betrothed and smiled 'charmingly.'

"My dear Rias, you're just in time for the big finale," the Phenex greeted, his husky voice as arrogant and unlikable as ever. "Care for a drink? My brother sent me this German vintage that has a most outstanding bouquet."

"My peerage and I will toast to your defeat, Riser," Rias rebuked, her previous unease gone as she gathered her power in her hands.

"End of the line, Yakitori-sama." Issei cracked his knuckles.

To his surprise, Riser didn't flare up like a peacock or otherwise take the bait at all. The man simply took the bottle on the table and poured himself a bit more wine.

'Crap, that wasn't what I was hoping for,' Issei grumbled inwardly.

"You blew the delivery is why."

'Shut up!'

"It's quite humorous, this turn of events," Riser started, calmly examining the drink in his hand. "And I must confess, I did not expect for anyone in your group besides you to even get this far, my dear. Your Power of Destruction is a true wonder to behold, while your hodgepodge collection of servants is about as tasteless and uninteresting as everything else that resides in the human world. No surprise there, given the gutters that these filthy rats must have inhabited."

Rias bristled, but he ignored her in favor of taking a long sip of his beverage.

'His whole harem is full of reincarnated Devils, who all came from the exact same world that we did. Guess he thinks it's okay when they're his, though. Two-faced jackass.'

Finishing his drink, Riser set the glass down and gave the two boys another once-over, now seeming to notice the lack of fatigue on either, before looking to Rias again.

"Still," he continued, "even a cornered rat can be dangerous, and I cannot deny the… surprising performance of your pet rodents today. So I suppose it is only right that I give a performance of my own."

The Phenex then clapped his hands on his knees and stood up from the chair. He gave both Issei and Kiba a sneer before undoing the buttons of his undershirt and removing both that and his coat, leaving his enviably cut torso on display for his opponents.

"Insult my servants again, Riser. See what happens." Rias' power was practically dripping off of her hands now, leaving small scorch marks on the floor.

"You think you can handle all of us at once?" Issei challenged.

"It's not at all a matter of belief, rat. It's simple reality," Riser calmly replied. "And the reality is that this is not the first time I've single-handedly faced a larger force in a game, and still won. Really, after my last rating game, I've found crushing an opposing team by my own hand at the last possible moment to be even more satisfying than the finest red wine Italy has to offer. And I do so love Italian red." He paused and put a hand to his chin contemplatively. "Hmm… now that I've mentioned it, what would you say to serving that at our reception party, Rias?"

A blast of destructive magic to the head was his answer. He did not flinch or even attempt to evade as the wave obliterated everything from the eyebrows up. Almost instantly, flames erupted from the mangled flesh left behind, reforming skin, muscle, bone and brain matter until it appeared as if nothing had ever destroyed them.

"I see," he said with a falsely rueful sigh, "Well, don't say that I didn't make the offer."

Flames suddenly burst from Riser's back, taking the form of Devil wings and making the room's temperature skyrocket into the triple digits. Smaller items, curtains and even the furniture within the room caught fire instantly. The simulated Student Council room was now reduced to a giant furnace. Issei could feel his clothes sticking to him with sweat as his body fought to counter the rising heat.

Riser donned his smirk again. "If there's nothing else, then do you wish to surrender now, or shall we all dance together in the fires of Hell? Let's start with you."

Like a fired rocket, Riser bulldozed into Kiba straight away and blasted both of them through a wall and into the faculty room next door.

"Kiba!"

Issei followed them through the breach with Rias right behind. He blinked in shock at the devastation Riser had left in his wake. He and Kiba hadn't just gone into the faculty room, but rather through it and a chemistry lab right after that, destroying every simulated feature in their path. The two were almost out of the building when Riser had stopped smashing them through walls.

Through those holes, Issei could see that Kiba was doing his best just to stay out of arm's reach from the Phenex. Every now and then, he would land an attack that would normally cripple or put down an opponent, but Riser would just regenerate any damage a mere second later. Repeated dismemberment, gaping holes in his chest, a slash across the eyes, nothing was keeping him down! And all the while, he continued to look down his nose at the younger blonde, with that insufferable smirk never leaving his lips.

The sword in Kiba's hands was holding together, but the overwhelming heat was adversely affecting it as well. The ice that formed the blade was progressively turning into water and evaporating quicker than he could reshape it.

To make matters worse, Riser was using the heat and flames coming off of his wings to both put pressure on his target and keep anyone from getting in the way. Issei couldn't get close enough to stop the man without running through a wall of fire that every natural instinct in his body screamed at him to avoid.

Riser threw a fire-covered fist into the flat of Flame Delete, shattering it into a hundred fragments that rapidly melted into water and turned to steam. Kiba discarded the empty hilt and drew upon Sword Birth to form a new weapon with all haste. But, before it could be completed, Riser unleashed an explosive gout of fire toward the Knight, engulfing his form in the cascading flames. Issei and Rias were blown backwards in the blast, their attempt to save their comrade rendered futile.

The flames died down, and once the smoke had cleared enough to see, there was no sign of Kiba to be found anywhere. The entire northeast corner of the building had been annihilated, with only gently falling flakes of soot and ash giving any indication that there was once part of a structure there.

"Pitiful." Riser muttered.

"Lady Rias' Knight has been retired." The monotone voice of Grayfia sounded like the toll of an ominous bell to Issei now.

"No…"

Riser rolled his shoulders and turned, setting his sights on a petrified Pawn.

"And then, there was one. You, however… I'm going to take my time with."

Just as quickly as he had attacked Kiba, Riser lunged for Issei, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him against the wall on the opposite side of the hole he'd created, thus separating him from Rias. Following that was a punch to his chest that hit harder than anything Isabela had dished out. The impact left him coughing and hacking.

"Ise!" Rias shouted, hurling arcs of Destruction at Riser's back to little effect. The flames and flesh she destroyed repaired before she could follow up.

"How unsightly." Riser taunted, ignoring Rias's attempts to stop him. "All the preparations in the world won't bring your lot up to my level. I only entertained this game in the first place and allowed your handicap for this exact moment: To teach you this very lesson."

*WHAM*

The elder Devil struck Issei with a powerful right hook.

"Yet still you stand in my way, still you mock me, as if I were lesser than you! All while the power gap between us stares you right in the face!"

Issei wheezed and glared back at him. "I won't… lose to–"

*WHAM*

His reply was silenced by another hook to his jaw.

"That is what irritates me more than anything, that disgusting belief that you can somehow win! You're no rat; rats would do the sensible thing and flee while they could. What you are is a vile maggot!"

"Blegh…" Issei coughed up a bit of blood, the taste of iron bitter on his tongue. "I–"

*WHAM*

A knee driving into his gut cut him off.

"You thought you could 'save Rias' from this marriage? You can't even save yourself from me, wretch!"

Riser hurtled Issei against another wall and attacked again, pinning the younger male not with a single hand, but with a flurry of fists. Punch after punch, the elder Devil drove him back into the wall again and again.

"Useless! Pathetic! Why were you even born?!"

Riser reared back to deliver a haymaker, but a swift burst of Destruction magic obliterated both of his arms. Undaunted, however, the man spun and let loose a new torrent of flames from a freshly reformed left arm toward Rias, putting her on the defensive before she could follow up. A new right arm grabbed Issei by the throat, crushing the air from his lungs and holding him in place as the Phenex's fire forced Rias back until she made contact with the wall opposite of Issei.

He heard her scream, but could do nothing to reach her. He wanted to shout, to tear Riser apart piece by piece, but his hands wouldn't muster the strength he needed. They were both trapped. The feeling of helplessness was rearing its ugly head again, steadily growing like a monster even bigger than Ddraig rising to full height.

Riser's torturous session finally relented, allowing Rias to fall to her hands and knees. Issei caught a single glimpse of her state, and the sight made his blood turn cold.

The Kuoh Uniform she had been wearing was almost nonexistent, with exposed areas of her skin covered in burns that were already beginning to blister. Her hands were in the worst shape, burned almost to the point that they matched her hair color. Said hair –which was normally crimson in shade and beautifully long– was now scorched up to her shoulders, and the tips that weren't still smoldering were burned black.

"I can do this all day, dear Rias!" Riser heartlessly taunted her. "It's you who must decide when it stops! Concede the game now, or pain will be all that your precious Pawn knows! Both yours, and his own!"

With his ultimatum delivered, the Phenex turned back to Issei and continued to rain down his brand of punishment, this time adding fire to his fists. Blow after blow, the raw distaste that Riser felt for him was ruthlessly administered. There was little he could do to defend, the strikes coming too hard now for his battered body to withstand.

Oddly enough, though, the pain Riser had promised only lasted for about a couple more seconds…

He could feel the pressure from every hit after that, but… there was no…

In the corner of his eye, he saw Rias scream something, but his hearing had once again left him…

By then… everything started… going numb...

---

…

That was weird... he could've sworn that he was… somewhere else just a second ago… doing something... but now...

It was… so quiet… so calm… there was nothing around him… no sounds… no sights…

…

Where was he even?

What was he doing?

…

…

Oh, that's right… he was fighting.

Fighting to save Rias.

Fighting to save her smile.

…

Rias' smile…

That beautiful smile…

He cherished that smile…

…

Cherish…

…

cher– …

…

…

–sure…

…

treasure…

…

Treasure…

…

That smile…

…

…

He treasured it…

…

Her smile…

…

…

It was his treasure…

…

…

His treasure…

…

…

Her smile was HIS TREASURE!

---

"STOP IT!" Rias screamed as she tackled Riser away from her brutalized Pawn, ignoring the pain that her burns caused her in doing so. Issei, finally released from his torture, collapsed to the floor in a heap before laying still.

She couldn't take it anymore! The longer this went on, the more Riser would just torture Issei while keeping him in the game. Even if he wouldn't die, the mental scars wrought by such a beating would definitely carry over. But more than that, just seeing him in that state was… so horrible!

"Stop it, please! No more!… I–"

An odd pressure interrupted her surrender. For some reason, the air in the room had become… heavier. In fact, it had become so thick that it was difficult to draw breath, like the corset of her uniform was suddenly too tight and constricting of her chest. Riser must have felt it, too, because she felt his torso tense up.

A short stabbing pain lanced through her head, followed by another, making her release her grip on Riser. She looked down to Issei and almost gasped. His eyes were wide open, and he was glaring at Riser with a level of rage that she had never seen from him before. Those same eyes were not the light brown color she knew, but instead a furiously glowing green.

' What– '

"What–"

"AaaaAAAAAAGH!"

With a feral roar and an astonishing burst of strength, Issei leapt up from the floor, slammed into Riser, threw himself atop the man and clamped his hands around his neck.

"Gahk! Grk– You cretin! Let go of me!" Riser growled through the strangle hold the young Pawn had on him.

"Ise?!" Rias called to him in shock. Issei had already been promoted to Queen, so where was this newfound strength… coming from…

'He broke one of– no, he broke two of the seals on his Pawn pieces! How?!'

Flames erupted anew from Riser's hands, the temperature within the room intensifying even further. He grappled with Issei and directed the fire to scorch his attacker. But Issei did not budge, keeping his iron grip on the man's throat.

"Damn you! Let go!"

"AAAAAAGGGGH!"

By all accounts, his roar should have held at least a hint of utter agony, but he was insensate to the searing pain of being hit by a flamethrower at point blank range.

"ISE, STOP! YOU–"

Rias' plea trailed off when she noticed that Riser's flames were quickly losing intensity. One of his hands then took to prying the hands from around his neck, while the other began throwing increasingly frantic punches at Issei's face.

Her eyed widened as she realized what was happening: Riser's body could reform from even the most lethal damage so long as his magic and his mind could sustain him, but he needed breathable air just like anyone else! His regenerative power couldn't fill his lungs with oxygen! If he was unable to breathe…

He would black out and be retired from the game! They could still win!

Forcing herself up, Rias bolted to the opposite side of Riser and latched onto his shoulders, palms facing the floor. She directed the Power of Destruction into her blistering hands and destroyed every bit of flesh at his shoulders, leaving scorched stumps in place of his arms. She then pushed the severed limbs away and held her hands directly over the wounds, using her power to destroy the flames of his regeneration ability before they could complete the task of forming new arms.

Issei paid her intervention no heed, singularly focused on the task of choking out the third-born son of Phenex. Veins popped out across his head, neck and arms from his mounting exertion, and blood continued to fall from his mouth and onto Riser's face. With the flames gone, she could see the majority of her servant's body was burned to a far worse degree than she was experiencing. It horrified her to see him like this, but she had to push through it. Just this once!

A now blue-faced Riser flailed and writhed, unable to do anything else with Rias' power continually destroying his arms. He was panicking, likely having never experienced the terror of breathlessness before in his privileged life. For a split second, she caught the look of abject fear in his eyes and wondered if he truly felt as if death was coming for him.

This had to work! It was their last chance!

' Stop struggling, you bastard! Just give up! GIVE UP! '

And finally, after an impossibly long struggle (just how long, she didn't know), Riser did just that. He stopped thrashing, his eyes rolled up into his head as he went limp, a ragged choked gurgle escaping his lips. Seconds later, his body began to vanish, per the rating game retirement system.

A baffled Rias extinguished her magic and fell backwards onto her rear, catching what breath she could while the adrenaline continued to shoot through her body. Each second that had just ticked by felt like an eternity, but when the ordeal finally ended, it had happened so quickly that she almost missed it.

No longer kneeling over anything, Issei went limp and began to pitch forward and collapse again, but Rias dove and caught him before he could hit the floor. All around them, amidst the charred ruins of a classroom, the air thinned and cooled, becoming breathable once more.

"L-… Lord Riser Phenex has been retired.This rating game is now concluded. Victory goes to Lady Rias Gremory."

"…"

The final announcement was an exclamation mark for everything that had led to that point. It was something she had always imagined hearing, even dreamed about it, but could hardly believe hearing for herself. Even Grayfia sounded stunned, and she was about the most unflappable Devil in the entire Underworld!

"You did it… You beat him!" she whispered, still in a daze. As the magnitude of those words set in, her breaths turned into a silent laugh interspersed with tired sobs. Tears fell anew as she brought her wonderful servant into a warm and shaky embrace.

"Thank you!… Thank you!"

As the illusory world around them and their own bodies began to dissipate, Rias never let go of the boy, continuing to cradle him against her chest. She didn't dare let him go, not after what he had just accomplished. What they all had.

Thanks to her friends… her peerage… her precious family…

Her life was her own again!

---

…

(1): Historically speaking ,  Sōji  Okita  was known as a strict instructor. If Kiba was canonically trained by him at some point before the start of the series, one would think that Kiba would more liberally use some of that training when he sees the need. Particularly against other swordsmen/women.

(2): I decided to take the concept of Issei's canon spell (Dress Break) and combine it with Twin Impact, the quirk o f Nirengeki  Shōda  fro m Boku no Hero Academia. It's such an underrated power, and I figured that it would fit well with the Boosted Gear's functions.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 16: Coming Days

At the Hyōdō residence, Issei sat with his parents at the dinner table, ready to enjoy his mother's specially prepared welcome back meal. With the previous day's rating game and subsequent party now behind them, he and the others of the ORC could get back to their normal lives. And Issei could think of no better way to celebrate than with the dish plated before him; a kansai-style sukiyaki with all the traditional trimmings.

As a Devil, Issei was now able to smell it all the way from his upstairs bedroom, and his mouth watered in anticipation the moment he recognized it. So much so that he had trouble keeping the drool contained when he raced down to the dining room.

"Itadakimasu." The family of three gave thanks and split their chopsticks.

Upon taking his first bite of the marbled yagyu beef, Issei almost melted into his chair.

"Mm~ I missed this~" he groaned. Even Akeno's impressive cooking couldn't compare to the masterpiece that was Miki Hyōdō's Sukiyaki Special. (1)

"Thank you, Ise~" his mom tittered in delight. "So, Ise, what all did your group do up in the mountains?"

"Hm? Oh, you know, summer camp stuff. Swimming, hiking, camping, trust exercises, we had a pretty good time up there."

"But so early in the year? I know I asked this earlier, but summer break isn't for another two months, right?" she asked while adding the onions and mushrooms to the hot pot.

Issei shrugged. "Buchō just didn't want to miss out. No telling when she'd get another chance."

The cover story that Rias had instructed Issei to give his parents was simple enough: Her family had bought her a reservation for a mountain retreat in eastern Hokkaido, but her schedule suddenly got shuffled around (due to the rating game) and the limited-time offer would expire if they waited too long.

"Well, Mr. Party-pants, we're happy that you had fun. Just make sure that you can catch up on the school work this time, though. I don't want a repeat of last year," his dad, Gorou, reminded.

"Yes, papa bear," Issei whimsically replied. Rias had said that they were covered, but he appreciated his dad's concern.

It was good to be home, especially with what he'd come to learn after the game.

Originally, the ensuing party was meant to serve as both a celebratory banquet for Riser's victory in the rating game and a wedding reception for the marriage. Riser losing the game had shot all that down, though, and since the venue was already arranged and invitations were sent out, it was too late to cancel. In order to keep from wasting resources and losing face, both heads of the Gremory and Phenex clans decided to just keep the event going, albeit with some 'minor' changes to the overall theme.

The very hasty removal of wedding-themed decorations from the banquet hall did not go unnoticed.

By itself, the party wasn't all bad; the food was good and the service was nice, but there were a lot more snooty nobles and upper-class Devils than Issei was comfortable being around. Riser himself was a no-show, which was perfectly fine by him, and there weren't many other nobles that tried to talk to him. Issei, despite his newfound stardom, found a few of these people giving him the stink-eye in return for the mother of all bad beats he gave them. Most of his time was spent with Rias and her biological family, anyway, so it was fine.

Zeoticus, Rias' father, was already quite tipsy by the time he greeted Issei, which led to some very off-the-cuff remarks such as how plain the boy looked up close. Both Rias and her mother, Venelana, apologized profusely for his behavior, stating that the patriarch was not normally so brusque. That was fair; Issei's own dad tended to speak uninhibited after a bit of sake.

Issei was most surprised, however, once he got a good look at Sirzechs. He could swear up and down that the man was a gender-bent carbon copy of Rias; same eyes, hair, skin, face, nothing was left to doubt that the two were directly related. The crimson-haired Demon Lord gave his own hearty congratulations along with a hard pat on the back, praising Issei's simple yet brilliant method of bringing down the Phenex's rising star.

That was about the time that the conversation went sideways.

–––––

"You don't remember?" a confused Zeoticus asked.

"He asked me what happened once we came back," Rias explained. "When I told him, he didn't understand, so I showed him the footage, but… He had no recollection of any of that."

Issei, for his part, shrugged and shook his head. The Gremory patriarch set his champagne on the table, eyes squinting as he focused on his daughter's servant. "So if you don't remember, then you wouldn't know if it was the Boosted Gear that powered you up, correct?"

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't. I didn't really get the chance to use it, before the bastard blitzed us and started caving my face in," the Pawn answered.

Confusion and concern went around the table and back again until Venelana addressed the question on everyone's minds.

"If you were already promoted, and you didn't use the Boosted Gear, where did that burst of strength come from?"

"I can answer that."

A green light flashed atop Issei's arm, and the source of the disembodied voice took its physical form.

"Whoa, wh- Ddraig? Since when could you talk out loud?" Issei sputtered.

"I've always been able to do this, hatchling, you just never asked. Not all conversations should be kept in your head," the Welsh dragon teased before addressing the others present. "Greetings, Devils of Gremory. Hello, Sirzechs. Been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes… about three centuries, by my last count." Issei could hear a slight edge in the Demon King's voice. "So, Ddraig, will you help us understand what happened with young Issei?"

"Yes, but you won't like the answer," the imprisoned dragon answered bluntly. "The hatchling basically went into Juggernaut Drive."

The women in attendance gasped, and Zeoticus shot to his feet, sobering up almost immediately.

"What?! That can't be right, he didn't transform!" he said intensely, ignoring the looks directed to him from other chatting groups.

"Well, I should clarify by saying that it was a very premature awakening; his master's seals on his Evil Pieces actually restrained the release enough to keep it from properly manifesting. Because of that, his raw strength and endurance were the only things affected by it."

"But how?" Rias looked between the Gear and its wielder. "We didn't even work with the Boosted Gear very much on the training trip. How could it have triggered if he hasn't…"

"Uhh, excuse me…" Issei asked tentatively, "what's Juggernaut Drive?"

"It's a dangerously powerful ability of the Boosted Gear, Issei," Sirzechs explained. "It's triggered by a state of emotional turmoil that trades the wielder's sanity and life for a complete release of the Gear's power. But in the process, that wielder becomes unable to distinguish friend from foe."

"They become a monster that destroys everything in their path, and only their own death can stop it. The entire Marchosias line was wiped out during one such rampage," Zeoticus ominously continued, never taking his eyes off of the gauntlet as he spoke. "You said that this was a premature awakening, though, yes, Lord Ddraig?"

"Incomplete, but it happened nonetheless. What concerns me is how quickly he slipped into it. To say the least, it was unnaturally fast, even for other times it's been activated by previous hosts of mine. If the hatchling were to relapse, I can tell you right now that the remaining seals would not be able to stop it."

A terribly uncomfortable silence loomed over the table as Ddraig's warning set in.

"Then why can't I remember any of it?" Issei asked.

"I'm not sure," Ddraig answered simply. "My previous hosts were able to recollect everything that happened in a Juggernaut Drive awakening. Passengers in their own bodies as they were, they were fully aware of their surroundings. With you… I have a suspicion, but I'll have to check."

Issei's eyes widened slightly, wondering if this was somehow connected to his other problem. He glanced to Rias, who must have been thinking the exact same thing. The worry in her eyes returned two-fold as she turned to her elder brother. Sirzechs, meanwhile, was one step ahead of them.

"Rias informed me about your situation, Issei, but this could complicate things. I'll inform my Bishop to prioritize a meeting with you so we can get to the bottom of this."

"That would be best, Demon King Lucifer," Ddraig leveled. "This is new territory for all of us. I would advise caution going forward, but the hatchling might not have that luxury. The White One has come awake."

–––––

Issei didn't know what 'The White One' was supposed to mean, but it had the older Devils sweating, even Sirzechs. Throughout the remainder of the party, the smiles from Rias' family were hollow, and fell just as soon as they weren't talking with anyone. It was either a nickname or a code name for something really bad, but what?

Just then, the doorbell rang, bringing the Hyōdō family's attention off of their meal.

"Ugh, at this hour?" Issei's dad grumbled. "If it's another vacuum salesman, I swear I'm calling corporate!"

"I'll get it, don't worry," Issei volunteered. Leaving an unfinished dinner was one of his dad's biggest pet peeves, especially when it was his own. "I'll just give them the old 'sorry, come back later' routine."

"Hurry back, or your father might steal some of your portion," his mom warned. Jokingly, his father began to ease his chopsticks closer to Issei's platter.

"He'd better freakin' not!"

Readjusting his t-shirt and shorts to look presentable, Issei prepared his response he'd given to strangers at the door countless times. His eyes were half-closed when he opened the door and began speaking.

"Hello, good evening. I'm sorry, but my father's not here tonight, you'll have to come back to–" he stopped once he saw who was actually standing under the porch eaves. "B-Buchō?"

"Hi, Ise~ Wonderful weather tonight, isn't it?"

Instead of a salesman for an overpriced vacuum cleaner, his club president and master greeted him, clothed in a summer dress that looked absolutely amazing on her already stunning figure.

"What's going on? What're you doing here? Uh, not… not that I'm unhappy to see you, but…" he paused when he noticed the suitcase behind her and the bag slung over her shoulder, "what's with all this?"

"Can't you tell, Ise? I'm moving in!"

Issei said nothing at first, not quite believing what he'd just heard.

"Huh?"

"It's sudden, I know, and I'm sorry for springing this on you out of the blue," she said, her tone turning somber. "My brother is really concerned about Ddraig's warning, and he wants to avoid another accidental Juggernaut Drive. My father suggested that I keep you more closely monitored, but I didn't want to separate you from your family so… I reached a compromise with them." She glanced uneasily from one door frame to another, then bowed her head in apology.

"Again, I'm sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you and your family."

He would have said something in reply if he could come up with anything. The most that came out was a few choppy utterances.

"Wait, so… you…"

"And speaking of which; as soon as my family finishes renovating your house to accommodate another ten or so people, everyone else in the ORC will be moving in, too!" Rias continued, back to smiling brightly. "So the Hyōdōs will be like our host family!"

At that point, Issei wasn't even listening. The whole left hemisphere of his brain had short-circuited due to her smile, causing all of his motor functions to seize, including his eyelids.

Buchō and the others were moving in with him?

…

Buchō was moving in…

…

Buchō was moving i–

"Issei…" he heard his dad mutter from the living room. Regaining control of himself, he looked behind him to witness both of his parents staring in awe at the scene playing out at their door. For whatever reason, they looked like they were ready to cry. His dad strode toward Issei and tightly grasped his shoulders.

"Son, when were you going tell us that you were seeing a foreign girl? Or better yet, why didn't you tell us that you found an actual girl?! Do you know what this means?!"

"Uhhh… I… I– "

"It means that your mother just won the bet she and I had on when you'd get yourself a real girlfriend! I was convinced that it wouldn't happen until after you graduated high school!"

"If she's already moving in with you, then grandchildren won't be very far behind! And now, I get dibs on naming the first one! YES!" While his mom began cheering and bouncing on her feet wildly, his dad knelt down, tears in his eyes as he pounded the floor with his fist in dramatic lament.

"Two years, Issei! Why couldn't you just be a hopeless pervert for two more years?! Dammit!"

Issei had no answer to any of this. His jaw had come off its hinges and his vocal cords ceased all function. Rias and Ddraig, meanwhile, took great amusement by the current predicament, evidenced by the quiet laugh chiming like a bell behind Issei and the raucous howl echoing within his head, respectively.

"Ehehe~ Your family is… quite something, isn't it, Ise?"

"BAAHAHAHAHA! Yo-hahah! Your parents were placing bets on your future with ma-he-he-hetes?! AAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT IS PRICELESS!"

Issei would later remember this moment as the first time that he truly wanted to dig his own grave and throw himself into it.

---

As the sun crested over the horizon to signify the coming Friday morning, Connor blinked awake, stricken slightly by the intrusive rays blasting him in the face from the window in his room. Groaning, he rolled over to try and squeeze a little more sleep out of the night, only for his slowly waking mind to catch up with something.

Sunrise in late May was usually around 4:30 A.M., at least an hour before his first alarm would go off. He always kept his bedroom blinds closed in the mornings to prevent being awakened this way. Today, though, his blinds were wide open, and he'd made sure they were closed last night.

'Did Caster come in here and open them?'

Upon returning home Wednesday, Connor and Caster picked up their discussion from that morning to finish filling in the blanks for the newly minted Master. Caster explained the ins and outs of the 'class system' he had mentioned, as well as the unique abilities of each class that could differ between summoned entities.

In his case, it was something called Territory Creation, which allowed for the utmost ease in constructing Bounded Fields. This, in addition to the Primordial runes, made him as capable of a Caster as he would be with any other potential class he could have been.

Connor had asked if there were some things that Caster would be willing to show him later, and the spirit just laughed. He claimed that he found magecraft to be quite boring, and jokingly chastised Connor about not summoning him in his preferred class. He wouldn't say exactly what that class was, though, choosing instead to remain cryptic about potential clues to his identity.

Whoever the hell he truly was, he took great amusement from pulling Connor's leg.

The next evening after school, Connor had shared his side of the story, starting briefly with his own personal history and how he got to Kuoh. He then gave his account of the fight with Dohnaseek –which really caught Caster's attention– and subsequently getting entangled in the Grigori's affairs, such as meeting with Asia.

Caster had stopped him at that point to ask more about Asia and her involvement. Connor answered by explaining his theory about her Sacred Gear and how she'd been treated by everyone she knew because of it. Regarding her exile, the most sensible conclusion they came to was that the Devil had someone on the inside who bypassed security measures and let him in willingly, as did the Grigori with their agents. Nothing else could explain how a Devil managed to get in without anyone noticing, or how the Fallen had gotten her out of sight so quickly.

From there, Connor then roughly explained the course of events, from his fight with the Devil chasing Asia, to the battle with the undead monster in the factory, all the way up to trading the beast bones for the research material.

That was the point that the mood in the room shifted. Caster hadn't seemed very pleased with learning what he did about Connor's dilemma. Again, he stopped Connor only a couple more times to ask some questions, but remained silent and stoic for the most part. By the time Connor had bid him good night, he just sat quietly at the table with one hand crossed over the other, barely even acknowledging that Connor was leaving.

Something was up, and it looked like Caster had something he wanted to say this morning.

Yawning, Connor rocked up and out of the futon. After a quick popping session of all the joints in his arms and hands, he exited the bedroom to look for the Heroic Spirit. He didn't have to look far, since Caster was seated on the couch and leaning forward with his fingers laced together.

"Hey, Caster,– " he stopped mid-sentence when the spirit snapped to look at him, a different kind of glimmer in his eye. "Umm,… Caster, what's up?"

"A lot of things, but right now, it's what I plan on doing with you," the man replied evenly.

It took a good moment for that to register. "Say again?"

"You heard me. I was considering it when you first asked me, but now I see that it's necessary. We're gonna get you in shape and we need a bigger place to do that, so I went looking for somewhere last night that'd fit the bill. Found this big clearing on the north edge of town, plenty of space to work with. You'll be spending a lot less time in this rinky-dink cubbyhole of yours for a while." The entire time he talked, Caster hadn't taken his eyes off of him.

"Wait, what?"

"And of course, the little lady'll be coming with us to help. With her power on hand to cut down your recovery time, we can have you keep going for even longer."

"Wait a minute, hold on!" Connor raised his voice.

Caster paused and regarded him more flatly now. "What is it, kid? Don't act like you have no idea why I'm telling you this."

Before Connor could even answer, Caster had vanished from the couch and reappeared directly in front of him faster than he could follow. The spirit's red eyes bored right into Connor's hazel, and his right hand applied a powerful grip to the boy's left shoulder.

"That was rhetorical. I'm gonna lay this out really simply for you: You suck, as a magus. Too often in the last few weeks, you've come close to getting yourself killed because you weren't ready for whatever came your way. What's most shocking to me is the fact that you somehow survived this long with such a piss-poor set of skills as you currently have. I get that you couldn't have known that you'd be drawn into a centuries-long cold war and whatnot, but that's not an excuse to not give yourself a realistic chance! Especially not with the enemies you've more or less made for yourself since being here."

Connor struggled to find the right words in rebuttal. "I– Look, I haven't had anybody that I can reliably go to for help! The Devils are a no-go, the Grigori already have me by the hair, and my grandpa didn't have any kind of favors I could cash in with other magi he knew." Not that it was a good idea to call them, even if he could. They would just want to cut him open and study his altered circuitry.

"That, right there, is exactly the issue. You worry so much about standing out, you hold yourself back and squander your own potential for growth. It doesn't matter who you ask for help if you're not even willing to look for someone. You have the resources right here," the man poked Connor's forehead, "but you're not using them! Do you ever look back and wonder how differently events would've played out if you were stronger?"

"Of course I do, what kind of que–"

"Then why're you wasting time by not trying to get that way?!" Caster continued, forcing Connor quiet. "There should be no reason at all! I know it, you know it, and I'm pretty sure your old timer knew it, too. Hell, I think he wanted you to try. With all the stuff he left behind, he might've known what it is you needed in order to survive if he wasn't there to teach you himself."

Connor glanced down, wondering if Caster was just reading into the family issues too much.

It went without saying that Donovan Lochlainn wanted a legacy for someone to carry on. Every magus did. The problem was that the old man had put too much on his plate and didn't finish it all, even when he could very well have prioritized some of his works and completed them. He was also irrationally stubborn; unwilling to accept any kind of aid or correction while his body and mind fell apart under the self-induced stress of starting over. His tutelage of Connor suffered as a result.

Magecraft steadily became far less appealing for Connor than it had at the age of four and, after his grandfather's death, it just became a matter of convenience and inveterate interest being more intrinsic than honoring tradition.

"Hey, eyes up." Caster shook him slightly, snapping him back to the present. "You need to get a grip of yourself and your situation. I'm obligated by our contract to serve you in whatever way I can, and damn if I don't see kicking your ass into shape as the best way to do that right now! But, I can't do that if you won't let me. Help me to help you, kid! Otherwise, you can count on an early grave!"

Somewhere deep down, a part of him knew this to be true, no matter how much he chose to ignore it. Again, Connor's gaze drifted downward.

Caster was right; if Connor was a more capable magus, he might not have gotten trapped in this whole situation. Even if that couldn't have been avoided, he wouldn't have needed saving by Jin, had he been better prepared for Asia's stalker. If he had hatched a better plan than simply trying to outmuscle the undead monster, Ruruko wouldn't be in whatever condition she was currently.

His life over the last month or so had been one stupid mistake after another; Issei's murder, the Grigori, the Devils, Asia's stalker, the beast, Valerie and the Graal, and Connor only had himself to blame for sticking his nose in any of that!

With every mistake he made, people kept paying for it –be it himself or someone he knew– all because he was too careless about handling things the way he should have. At what point would another mistake cost him everything?

It was only by charitable negotiations and dumb luck that he still drew breath as a free man, and even that was highly debatable. For the moment, it was more like he was on a leash that slowly grew longer, but never truly released him. And it probably never would. With Valerie in the Grigori's custody, Connor would have to go through them in order to learn anything more about the Graal and his connection to it.

The Master and Servant stood in place for a long time, the latter waiting patiently for the former to answer him. Finally, Connor slowly nodded.

"Okay… I get it… I need to get my act together if I want to… to not just run away all the time." Enough was enough. It was too physically and emotionally tiring to keep ignoring the problem.

"That's where we are with things, yeah. So, are you in?"

"Yeah, I'm… Something has to change." Connor looked up to meet Caster's gaze again. "If it has to be me, then yes. I'll do it."

"Good, because I'd hate to be bound to a spineless fool," the Heroic Spirit remarked as he released his grip and clapped the younger magus' shoulder.

It was painfully obvious to see that his current opinion of the boy was not much higher than 'spineless fool,' which made it hard for Connor to look him in the eye.

"So, uhh… what'd you have in mind for this… training?" he asked, in need of a change of subject.

"Well, let me put it this way." Caster said, a smile returning to his face." When I was your age, I was a strapping ladies' man of a boy with a head filled up to the eyeballs with lofty dreams and ambitions. A star that wanted to shine brighter than any other in the sky and didn't care if it died trying. In you, I see a star that won't shine any brighter than it does already, but we can get that taken care of really quickly."

The spirit then gave a sharp poke to Connor's sternum.

"No matter how we end up getting to that point, I'm not closing out this contract between us until I'm sure you're somebody that I can proudly call 'my Master.'" His lips then spread into a rather unnerving grin. "So get ready, kid; your last peaceful days are coming up, and when they're over, you'll experience the hell that comes from learning under the Sage of the Forest."

Connor felt simultaneously awed and anxious by the prospect. "Sounds like fun… Should I call my mom first and let her know that I love her?"

Caster's grin widened even further. "Probably."

---

Elsewhere, on the other side of the world, a different sort of deal was taking place. Beneath a blanket of stars in the clear night sky, a young man in dirty exorcist garb slowly paced back and forth in a narrow alley, his left hand up to his ear as he made a call.

"C'mon, pick up already," the man grumbled until he heard the other side of the line connect. "Ah! Ding-a-ling~ Freed here! Got your precious fragment in record time, and boy, is she beautiful! You sure I can't keep her?" He looked down to admire the sword grasped in his right hand. A truly splendid blade of incredible power, the owners would surely lose their minds over its disappearance.

And this was just the first one.

"Yeah-hahaha, what did I tell ya?" he chortled. "You put me on a job, and I'll have it done faster than you can say 'Holy shit!'… Yeah… Where at?… Alright, cool. Gotta do some cleaning up here first. I'm trying my best these days not to litter. Toodles~"

Clicking his phone to sleep and pocketing it, he let a long dramatic sigh.

"Okay, old man, I gotta get going. It's been fun, though, right?"

Looking behind him, 'Freed' took note of the robed priest no longer twitching but still gurgling as he continued to drown in his own blood while he remained on the ground. He'd clung to life for longer than expected, impaled as he was by the light sword through his chest. The man's exorcist colleagues, both of whom were beheaded, lay nearby in growing pools of the life-fluid. None of them even had a chance to fight back or call for help.

The lunatic rogue approached the dying priest and stopped to stand over him, malicious red eyes gleaming in twisted joy as he smiled.

"Well, maybe a bit more fun for me than it was for you. I'm just guessing, since you're being awful quiet," he mockingly observed before removing his weapon from its temporary holding and returning it to his belt.

Futilely, the priest attempted to speak, only to spit up more blood that ran down the sides of his jaw.

"Sorry, didn't catch any of that. Anyway, many thanks for the sword. Your contribution will be forgotten as early as tomorrow. But don't you worry, she'll be put to good use; killing people, starting wars, the really exciting shit, you know. And hey!"

He then knelt down and drew a revolver-style light gun from its holster on his hip. Cocking back the hammer, he gently placed the barrel against his third victim's forehead.

"Send another message for me, would ya? Please tell ol' Saint Pete that I said, 'Fish this, o fisher of men.'"

An enormous *BANG* rang out through the darkened streets, lights from surrounding houses coming on as the people who heard it were jolted awake. By the time anyone went outside to investigate, they found only bodies strewn about the alleyway. A haunting laughter seemed to echo in the wind that night, like the wailing of a hateful ghost.

---

…

(1): A hot pot meal typically reserved for very special occasions. Can be made one of two ways and is usually prepared and served at the table.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 17: A New Threat

"Uuughhh…"

Laid out flat on his back, a tired groan escaped between ragged breaths as Connor stared at the clouds lazily drifting in the evening sky. The black t-shirt and workout shorts he wore were caked with dirt and soaked in a fair bit of sweat, making it feel like he was wrapped in a wet bed sheet.

For the last three weeks, Caster had kept his promise of kicking his ass in order to help him. Both figuratively and literally. Outside of regular school, Connor was put through physical and intellectual boot camp that on occasion made him question if this was Caster actually mad about being a Caster.

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays were spent studying. More specifically, intensive studies of tactics and thaumaturgical theorem, all while relearning everything he knew about runic magecraft.

The Primordial Runes, based on what Caster told him, were first transcribed by Odin of the Norse pantheon after he sacrificed himself upon Yggdrasil in his undying quest for knowledge. After the nine days and nights that he hung from the world tree and stared down into its roots, the truths of the world came to him in visions, taking the form of runes. Upon returning from the tree, Odin shared these truths –the very realization of mysteries– with his brothers Vili and Vé. Together, the three constructed Asgard, the home of the Norse Gods, and passed down the runes to its new inhabitants, which in time found their way to the mortal races of Earth.

Over the course of millennia, however, mortal storytellers and scribes misinterpreted the runes' meanings, causing the concepts they represented to become obscured. Their individual effectiveness gradually dimmed because of this, and future renditions of runic magecraft required longer, more complex chains to achieve similar results. By the dawn of the 21st century, the craft was a shell of its former self, deemed inefficient and impractical by most magi.

Efforts to return to the old knowledge were met with lackluster results. As Connor had learned them from his grandfather, the Elder Futhark runes required a physical surface to be inscribed and filled with magical energy in order for the runes to activate.

Caster, meanwhile, could manifest the Primordials in mid-air in the blink of an eye and rewrite natural law as he required.

And on the subject of eyes, he had even found a solution to Connor's Mystic Eye problem. After a brief study of their functions and aftereffects, the Heroic Spirit inscribed a pair of runes behind Connor's ears that would steadily and safely release excess magical energy absorbed by his eyes, thereby negating the optic neuritis they caused. Ecstatic as Connor was to use them painlessly, Caster recommended that he maintain his minimal usage policy. He wanted to make sure that Connor wouldn't become dependent on them. At least now, Connor had a proper name for them: Mystic Eyes of Precognition.

Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays focused more on intensive physical training. Laps around town, obstacle courses, live-fire exercises, sparring with Caster one-on-one, the list went on. This was all chiefly meant to improve Connor's endurance, spatial awareness, reaction time and ability to pace himself before Caster deemed he was fit for the next stage of training. In addition, his magic circuits would become more accustomed to Caster actively expending magical energy.

The most grueling of the drills was on Saturdays, where he had to survive for as long as possible against swarms of wooden effigies that Caster created with his magecraft. By themselves, the effigies were easy to destroy, but Caster would continually rebuild them and occasionally spawn new variants until Connor was overwhelmed and reduced to a bruised bag of meat – as he was currently.

All in all, this 'rudimentary course' of Casters' was more akin to combat specialization training.

'Different strokes for different folks, I guess, but how does he make his strokes sting like a motherf–'

His reverie was interrupted by Caster moving to stand over him and block his view of the clouds. Asia was there as well, looking at him with much less worry than she had once she became aware of Caster's training regimen. It still made Connor laugh sometimes, thinking about how much taller the Heroic Spirit was compared to her.

"You're getting better, kid. Every new minute is another step forward." Caster tapped his staff into the dirt and, in the next instant, every one of the wooden effigies collapsed into heaps of sticks and twisted vines. The ground beneath those piles then split open to drop the pieces down into the earth and close up again, leaving no evidence.

Caster looked around to survey the damage dealt to the area, but stopped when he noticed Connor blankly staring at him. "What's that look for?"

The magus-in-training grunted. "Nn, I'm just wondering to myself again if this was actually what you did to train at my age."

"Oh yeah, this and more…" Caster started before shrugging. "Alright, it wasn't like this exactly, but you get the idea. The world is unforgiving, and my mentor's teaching method reflected that. The routines showed me what I was doing wrong, and more than that, they showed me how far I'd come from day one. I mean, think about it, you didn't even last two minutes the first time."

"Well, yeah, that's what happens when the enemy force you just killed reanimates and beats the living hell out of you with sticks!" Connor winced, bringing a hand to his stomach as it throbbed.

"Don't lose sight of your enemies, even the dead ones. You'll live just a bit longer that way. At least now, you won't get caught dead to rights for having the object permanence of a toad," the spirit offered with snark, not at all denying how much he laughed his ass off that day. "Little lady, if you will."

Asia knelt down beside Connor, muttering a prayer and clasping her hands before forming them into the shape of a cup. The silver rings of Twilight Healing manifested, and the glowing green power flowed from her cupped hands like water, landing on Conor's chest and spreading through his body with a peaceful fluid motion. Cuts sealed themselves and contusions vanished in the span of seconds.

'Living Water' was the name she gave to this pseudo-spell. Quite the fitting title.

As the painkilling effect set in, the magus relaxed and let his thoughts drift to the maiden of golden hair and heart tending to him.

It was… odd, being fixed up by Twilight Healing. There was really no better way to describe it, other than likening the feeling to anesthesia. You knew you were being worked on, you could even watch what was happening, but you couldn't feel any pain from it.

Speaking of painless, introducing Caster to Asia had not been nearly as difficult as Connor thought it would. True to her nature, she graciously accepted the Heroic Spirit for what he was, despite having no earthly clue who he could be. When the man pitched his idea of allowing her to help train Connor, she beamed like a spotlight and agreed without hesitation.

Working off of Connor's theory, Caster hypothesized that Twilight Healing functioned by creating a small Bounded Field that allowed Asia to manipulate the progression of time inside of it. Essentially, she could reverse cause and effect by undoing any physical damage to living tissue while leaving the rest of the body unaffected. A small series of tests found that she could 'heal' any organic matter, so long as she didn't exhaust herself in the process. This discovery segued into the possibility that she actually could treat poisonings, if certain conditions were met.

She adamantly refused to have anything injured or poisoned for her sake, though, because she didn't want to cause suffering to another creature just to practice with its life. Due to that and how little training she evidently received with her Gear in the Vatican, her stamina was not particularly great. She could only use it for about two hours a day before she started getting drowsy.

So, to remedy both problems at once, Caster prompted her to exercise along with Connor during the week and practice the time controlling aspect of her Gear in a different way. When Asia wasn't using Twilight Healing to fix up Connor on the regular, she was tasked with tearing and repairing the leaves on trees without breaking them off the branches. In order to keep her mind sharp, she also had to cycle between trees, choosing a new leaf each time.

The results were phenomenal; Within a week, she saw an improvement of up to twenty percent in her treatment speed. In three, that number climbed to forty percent, and she could manage another full hour of healing. At rates like that, what was possible for her in three months? Or six months? Or a year?

The Church had made an egregious mistake in letting her go, but their loss was Connor's gain. Especially now that he and Asia were a thing, somewhat, for the past two weeks.

Indeed, after much pestering, poking and prodding from both Caster and Aika, Connor decided to do as advised and 'live a little.' He was not, however, going to 'take the girl for a romp and see where it went from there.' That would give Caster more reason to annoy him than he ever cared to provide, to say nothing of Aika; her ridiculous perception ground his gears already.

Asia herself didn't know what to do or expect from this change in their relationship, since most of the advice she got from her own friends was beyond her level of comfort. Just holding Connor's hand was enough to make her blush, so she was fine with taking it slow.

"That should do it for today, kids." Caster dismissed. "We're out of daylight. Pick yourselves up and head home." The Heroic Spirit then wandered off into the clearing to begin repairing the damage and take down the Bounded Field.

Asia held out her hand for Connor to take. He did so and hoisted himself up, being careful not to pull the clumsy girl down on top of him.

"Thank you, Asia."

"You're welcome." Sweat fell from the nun's brow in small trails. This had been her fifth full heal of the day, on top of three hours of leaf exercises, and she was ready to call it quits.

So was he, but first, he needed to make sure he could walk in a straight line. Caster has put heavy emphasis on the legs all week.

---

Sunday evenings were usually pretty busy in Kuoh, almost as busy as a normal work day. The big difference being that nobody was in a hurry to do anything. Workers, students and children of all ages were given a reprieve from their daily grinds and had a chance to spend the day at restaurants and entertainment centers. From sunrise to sundown, people just seemed to have all the time in the world.

For Connor and Asia, this meant a chance to enjoy themselves as teenagers. With no homework or projects from the Academy at the moment, that left Connor with all afternoon to spend with his… well, he wasn't sure if it was the right time in his mind to say 'girlfriend,' but the idea was gaining traction.

Caster had gone his own way, as per usual on Sundays. The Heroic Spirit had discovered that by donning simple clothes and masking his presence with magecraft, he could freely wander around with no one being the wiser to his true nature. Not even the Devils could sense him. While in disguise, he took the time to experience life like he was a drifter, exploring every fishing hole and drinking spot available in town.

He made it a point, though, to let Connor have his time alone with Asia, just like today.

Last Sunday, the two had gone on a tour of Kuoh's public aquarium. The variety of species wasn't particularly large, but Asia marveled at every water-bound creature she came across all the same. She especially enjoyed the newly completed touch tank that allowed guests to interact with the freshwater rays on exhibit. Thanks to the docile and even friendly nature of said rays, the little nun almost didn't want to leave, and had all but begged Connor for another visit in the near future.

Today, it had been a day for the teens to explore the local game center. Connor had only visited it once before, and he was half expecting it at the time to be like the crowded, loud and blindingly bright arcades in the States. Instead, it was clean, quiet, sparsely populated, and the games were both rewarding and entertaining. If only the good stuff wasn't lost in a maze of crane games.

By 5:00 P.M., Asia had won big. She almost walked out with a loaded armful of plushies and prizes until Connor suggested she get a bag for them all. Her favorite of the bunch, a cat-like Pokémon of some sort, ended up peeking out the top like a little dog in a carry purse. She walked beside Connor with a grin on her face and a little skip in her step.

"Let's find somewhere to eat and we can call it a day."

"Okay!"

Getting to the restaurants and fast food joints in Kuoh typically meant cutting through the town plaza and heading southeast for about five or ten minutes, depending on foot traffic. The plaza sat at the heart of Kuoh, surrounded on all sides by its various districts and business complexes, with a clock tower fit for Grand Central Station standing proudly at its center. Though nowhere as busy as some of Japan's more famous shopping hubs, it still saw a lot of traffic throughout the week, especially on Sundays.

As the foreign teens turned a corner into the plaza, they happened across a very odd scene. Two figures wearing white hooded cloaks with blue and gold accents stood side by side in front of the clock tower. Propped up on the tower behind them was a long bundle wrapped in cloth that Connor could very well distinguish as a sword.

Adding to the bizarre sight before him was the fact that these people were begging for handouts.

"These stray lambs are in need of your blessing!" The shorter figure announced in a high-pitched feminine voice while holding a small box in their hands.

"On behalf of our Father in Heaven, please grant us your blessing!" The second one flatly said, their voice feminine but slightly lower than that of their counterpart.

To no one's great surprise, no passerby had dropped so much as a yen into their 'offering box,' and nobody looked like they had any intent to do so. The two figures deflated, then turned to face each other and started whispering something. This only served to make them look even more suspicious than they already did.

Connor had half a mind to simply walk away and leave well enough alone. As he started to join the dispersing crowd, though, he suddenly noticed that Asia was no longer beside him. His eyes closed tightly as a sense of dread welled up in his stomach. Did he dare look to where he believed she had just gone?

He cracked one eye open and turned to look back to the walkway. And sure enough, Asia was already approaching the pair, bag still in hand.

"Shit..." he hoarsely muttered, though he wanted to say much worse.

'Caster, get down to the square. Might have a situation here,' Connor beckoned via telepathic link.

'On my way,' the spirit answered without objection.

Asia was now just a few steps away from the two cloaked figures, who had apparently not even noticed her. To her credit, she could be quiet as a mouse sometimes.

"Umm… Excuse me," she said in English, halting their whispers. "Do you need some help?"

"Ah! Oh, yes! Bless you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!" The shorter of the pair leaped up and began shaking Asia's hand exuberantly, jostling the poor nun nearly off her feet and making her drop the bag she was carrying. In their vigorous shaking, the baggy hood fell from the person's head to reveal a young woman in her teens, probably no older than Asia. She had chestnut brown hair done into twin tails that flipped and flew every which way, and her amethyst colored eyes glittered with joy.

"I knew it!" she proclaimed loudly. "I knew somebody would come if we prayed for it! God is good!"

"Irina, stop that, you're going to dislocate her arm," the other hooded figure harshly scolded as they stood up and approached the pair, pulling 'Irina' off of Asia. "It's your fault we're in this mess, so don't make things worse."

"Xe, for the tenth time, I said I'm sorry!" the twin-tailed girl groaned.

"Then maybe next time, you'll think twice before buying any worthless souvenirs!"

At that moment, Connor felt Caster's presence on his right side in spirit form.

'What's up, kid?'

'Asia being herself again. Exorcists. I don't know how this is gonna go down, so be ready.'

'Bounded Field, coming right up.'

The slight pull from his magic circuits told Connor that Caster was setting up a Field for sound distortion. Nobody outside it would know what was being said inside.

"I'm sorry about her, she's easily excited and we've had a bad couple of days," the hooded 'Xe' person apologized to Asia. "We appreciate your concern, madam, but unless you… wait a minute…"

The person lowered their hood and stared directly at Asia with slightly shocked marigold eyes. It was another girl, somewhere in her teen years as well, but her features were decidedly not Japanese like that of her partner. Her complexion was slightly more fair and her hair was a similar shade of blue to Tsubasa's, roughly cut to just past her jaw line with a small sea-green fringe over her right eye.

"Aren't you Asia Argento?"

"Huh?" 'Irina' looked again at Asia, her eyes widening in recognition this time. "Oh my gosh, wait, that totally is her!"

Seeing the nun tense, Connor took this as his moment to step in and keep the discussion from going out of control.

"Is everything okay, Asia?" he asked nonchalantly as he approached the trio, catching the attention of two. Of course everything wasn't okay, but he needed to make sure these two other girls knew they had a witness to this interaction.

Asia glanced to him for a split second, and in that moment, he could see that whatever courage she had mustered in offering her aid had disappeared under the bluenette's piercing gaze. Connor stopped and stood slightly in front of Asia, silently conveying a warning for the new girl.

"U-Um… H-Have we met? H-H-How do you know my name?" Asia asked 'Xe' with a worsening tremble.

"Your reputation at the Vatican precedes you. Who is this with you?" the girl tersely asked back.

"I'm Connor Lochlainn, I'm a friend of Asia's," he replied, equally clipped. "Who are you?"

"I'm Xenovia Quarta, and this is my… colleague, Irina Shidō."

"Don't make it sound like you hate me, Xe…" Irina sulked.

*GrrRRRRRRrrrrrr*

A low but loud growl suddenly emanated from Xenovia's abdomen, drawing the attention of all four people (five, technically) away from the conversation.

'Wow… Was that her stomach growling or the bellow of a demonic boar?'

'Yes.'

Xenovia's cheeks took a slightly red shade while Irina put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

*GrrrrrrRRRRrrrRRRrrrRRRRrrrrr*

As if to spite her, Irina's own stomach roared even louder than her partner's had, and with vibrato. Even some bystanders several meters away heard the colossal sound, turning to look in alarmed curiosity. Her face turned fully crimson before she hid it behind her hands in embarrassment.

Caster broke out laughing, though only Connor could hear it. He would have started as well if doing so wouldn't make a scene. With great effort, he held back a snicker.

"Ehh… Just an observation here, but it sounds like you two are kind of down on your luck right now." The indignant expressions he received were his confirmation. "Okay, I'll tell you what. Asia and I were just about to go for an early dinner. How about you two come along, we get you some food, and then we can, uh… talk about other stuff. Does that sound good?"

"That would be great, thank you!" Irina immediately agreed, still giving her best impression of a ripe tomato.

"We can't, Irina," Xenovia objected. "This is not their business, we have to figure this out ourselves."

"Um… r-really, it's fine. Connor and I were… were about to go for food, anyway," Asia shakily offered, receiving a dubious look from the bluenette.

*GRRRrrrr*

Xenovia's stomach let out another growl, audibly reminding her of their situation. Her mouth tightened, then her shoulders relaxed.

"We really shouldn't,… but if you insist, then… we will be gracious about it."

"Okay then," Connor bent down to pick up Asia's gift bag and pass it back to her, giving a light squeeze to her hand as he did so. "Follow me, I know a place not far from here that's pretty good."

Irina trotted behind him without hesitation. Xenovia sighed and gathered up the cloth-covered bundle, fixing it to a clasp evidently on her back before following. Asia stayed close to Connor, still uneasy but slightly assured by his presence.

'There go my evening plans,' he inwardly bemoaned.

'I for one am impressed, kid. You started out with one girl, and now it's three? At the same time? Damn, if only you worked this fast in training, we'd be getting somewhere!'

Connor settled for a heavy exhale through the nose over a snappy comeback. At the same time, he pulled out his phone and began texting someone that he knew would be very interested in this development.

---

"You brought us to a bar?" Xenovia posed the question.

The group of four stood at the waiting area of Nomura's. Another couple of people stood in line before them, but were quickly being shown in. The wait wouldn't be long since the largest part of the dinner rush was still at least thirty minutes away.

"It's not entirely a bar. I promise you, the food here's really good, and we can get it quicker by going earlier than 6:00 P.M."

"I don't remember this being here when I was little," Irina spoke idly to herself, tilting her head.

About thirty seconds after the preceding guests filed inside, Tobio emerged in uniform, sporting his most practiced smile as he approached.

"Hey, Connor, what's up?" The agent held out his hand to shake. "Got some friends with ya?"

The magus shrugged while returning the greeting. "Eh, something like that, Tobi. Hey, can we get one of the rooms in the back for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me see if we've got one open." He quickly adjourned back into the izakaya, leaving the four visitors to themselves once more.

"Back rooms?" Xenovia asked warily.

"For private parties. I kinda figured you don't like crowds." It was little more than a token gesture, but one that the bluenette appeared to accept.

Tobio reappeared quickly with menus in hand and ushered the unlikely group inside. Nomura's had two small sitting rooms toward the back of the restaurant right by the emergency exit. Each one was kept immaculately clean and well ventilated for six patrons at a time that just wanted to enjoy their meals in peace.

The four guests quietly filed into the room and took their seats; Connor and Asia on one side, Irina and Xenovia on the other.

"Just let me know when you're ready to order, alright?" Tobio said, handing everyone the menus before moving to leave the room.

"Actually," Irina quipped, "can we place our orders now, please?"

"Sure, I suppose." He glanced over to Connor. "What can I start you with?"

"I would like the–"

"Four plates of karaage, two of them large, all the trimmings, with sweet and spicy sauce on the side," Connor quickly cut in.

"You got it. Drinks?"

"Wh- Hey, wait a minute!" Irina tried to protest.

"Water, all four of us."

"Gotcha. Be right back with that."

As the agent excused himself from the room, Connor noticed his right index finger pointing to the floor. Looking down, the magus saw a pair of ruby eyes staring up at him from within the shadow of the table, beyond the exorcist duo's line of sight. With how stealthy the sentient Gear normally was, the two would never know that he was right under their feet, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

"Hey, what gives?!" the twin-tailed girl demanded. "You said this was your treat!"

"What are you trying to pull here?" Xenovia reacted a little more venomously, fingers digging into the table.

*GrrrRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrr*

For the second time, Irina's stomach made its emptiness known. She blushed once again and clutched at her abdomen.

"It is my treat," Connor affirmed, "and don't worry, this isn't some kind of trap. If you want seconds afterwards, we'll talk about it, but it's a pretty safe bet right now that you both need something in your stomachs. How long have you two been without food?"

"…since… yesterday…"

"Oh geez, no wonder you're hangry. Well, all the more reason; the karaage gets cooked pretty quickly here, five minutes tops. Just don't eat it too fast or you'll burn your mouth."

"Your concern is noted." Xenovia commented.

A very uncomfortable silence loomed over the four teens for almost a whole minute. It seemed that everyone either didn't know what to say, or simply weren't willing to speak. Irina kept looking back and forth between Xenovia and Asia, the former of whom was now studying the latter intently. Connor checked again to make sure that Caster was still beside him. He was, although he too was strangely quiet.

Finally, Asia managed to break the ice. "Is… I-Is something wrong, Miss Xenovia?" she timidly asked.

"No, Miss Argento, I was just thinking," Xenovia replied earnestly. "I would never have believed that mine and Irina's paths would cross with yours. The last I had heard, you were seen leaving the Vatican with only clothes and a Bible. You chose a very… strange place to reconnect with the Lord."

"Yeah, I mean, Nagasaki and some of the islands west of Kyushu have some really amazing churches that you could have gone to," Irina chipped in. "I know Kuoh used to have one, but… now, it doesn't… I went there all the time as a kid."

"I'm guessing you have a history with this town, Ms. Shidō?" Connor asked the brunette.

"Yep, born and raised! My family moved to Italy for my dad's job when I was five, but coming back has been pretty exciting! Lots of new things and places to go!"

Asia fidgeted for a moment.

"I was… tricked… into coming here," she began to explain ruefully. "The people who picked me up after I left the Vatican told me that I was to come to Kuoh as part of an effort to rebuild the church. It was a lie. They wanted me here so that they could use me for their own ends… and leave me to die."

"That's awful. How did you get away?" Irina asked.

Before Asia could answer, Connor interjected. "There's a really long story to that, actually, but there's something else I think we need to clear up first. I won't ask what you two are doing so far from home, that's not my business, but… how did you end up on the streets begging for money? You don't exactly go halfway around the world without your finances in order."

Irina flinched like she'd been struck, while Xenovia sighed irritably.

"Here's what happened," she harshly began, "I had gone to book us a hotel room while Irina went into town to get supplies. I left her with the money we brought with us just in case she needed it. Nothing out of the ordinary, we've done it that way plenty of times before. But this time, instead of buying what we needed for the mi– our job, she got scammed into spending all of our money on a worthless fake painting!"

Filing away the slip of the tongue, Connor turned to stare at the flustering girl, only able to say the one word that came to mind.

"Seriously?"

"H– He tricked me, okay?!" she tried to excuse, to no avail. "The guy really made it sound like it was a painting of a Saint! I– I thought it looked like Saint Peter."

"Oh, right. Like Saint Peter would be winking and pointing finger guns at the painter." Xenovia snidely mimicked the aforementioned gestures to her partner, causing her to shrink even further into herself. "I swear, coming back to your hometown has somehow turned you stupid."

"O– Okay, alright, so putting aside the reason for now,… If you have no money, then where are you going to go while you're here? You're not just going to sleep in the streets, are you?"

"Our leaders will have to send someone to pick us up. But we have work to do until then, so… We'll figure something out." Xenovia sounded like she was trying to assure herself more than she was explaining to Connor.

"What about my apartment?"

The sudden suggestion from Asia caught everyone by surprise as she turned to look at Connor.

"They could stay at my apartment for a little while, right?"

"Asia, that's–"

"If we tell Mr. Watanabe that they'll be here for just a few days, then he'll make an exception, right? Romans chapter twelve, verse thirteen, says "Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers." We met them today for this moment, I'm sure of it! God guided our steps!"

A shining testament to Asia's ceaseless compassion as this was, Connor was not convinced, and neither was he enthusiastic about offering shelter to the exorcists. His first impressions of them were not at all favorable.

Irina came off as impulsive and gullible, evidenced by her frivolous handling of money, while Xenovia was quite a bit more boorish and judgmental. There was a subtle aggression in the exorcist's tone when she first addressed Asia, almost derisive if not for her initial surprise. Connor saw it clear as day, and Asia couldn't simply have forgotten that hostility being directed at her.

Taking in Asia may have been a spur-of-the-moment decision for Connor, but she was harmless. This was completely different; these two were trained to fight. Trained to kill. Whatever their reasons for being in Kuoh, it would be a bad idea to have them hanging around home, especially if one of them managed to bring their enemies right to his doorstep.

"I'm sorry, Asia, but I'm not sure he'll allow it," he answered, making her expression fall slightly. "It's kind of you to offer, and we can talk to him and see, but let's not count our chickens before they hatch, okay?"

Asia nodded slowly, sobered by the earnest answer, but did not seem ready to give up on the idea. Irina and Xenovia, meanwhile, looked stunned at the blonde, the former of whom was actually starting to tear up.

A timely light knock then came from the door.

"Ah, speaking of chickens, is everyone ready? Come on in, Tobi."

Tobio came back into the room with the four plates of food as well as two cups of dipping sauce all balanced on his left arm and hand. Mouths watering, the two exorcists looked ready to pounce on him for everything he was carrying, but he managed to drop off the plates and exit before they could strike.

Irina immediately dug in with gusto, but Xenovia had a harder time due to trouble with the chopsticks. Connor saw Asia fidget, looking as if she wanted to help the exorcist with her utensils, but was too nervous to do so. Before long, the bluenette gave up and resorted to using her hands, joining her colleague in clearing their platters of everything.

Connor simply allowed the two to eat while he and Asia more slowly partook in their own meals. It didn't take but a few short minutes for his guests to finish with sighs of contentment.

"Not bad, eh?" he ventured once they stopped.

"Mmmm, so much better now~" Irina leaned back until her head touched the wall, thoroughly satisfied to have something in her stomach.

"Yes, much better. Thank you both for this." Xenovia, for her part, looked far calmer than before. She bent forward on the table and clasped her hands in prayer, Irina quickly following in her example.

"O Lord, please bless and keep Ms. Argento and her kind friend," the twin-tailed girl quietly proclaimed. "May you safeguard their journey, and lead them toward the gates of Heaven."

"Cleanse them of all unrighteousness, and deliver them from evil," Xenovia intoned.

With a simultaneous "Amen," the two closed the prayer, with Xenovia giving the sign of the cross. She opened her eyes once more to look directly at Connor.

"Now then, I can understand Ms. Argento wanting to help us, but what about you? Not that I'm ungrateful, I'm just… confused. Why are you doing this for us? You don't even know who we are."

"No, but I do know her." Connor gestured to Asia with his free hand. "It's just in her nature to help people, quite possibly at the expense of herself. She can't help it. Somebody's gotta keep her from getting into trouble. I kind of owe it to her, anyway."

"You owe her?" Xenovia asked.

"Let's just say she helped me through a difficult time."

Another moment of silence followed while Connor and Asia finished their meals. The two exorcists waited patiently, lost in their own thoughts.

"I think… maybe we should give them a chance, Xe." Irina suggested, then held up a hand as her partner made to rebuke. "I know, secret mission, but I can tell that Asia is genuine about wanting to help us. If she trusts him, then, well… maybe he's not so bad, either."

Xenovia's gaze lingered on her partner for a while, before she looked to Connor, then Asia and back again to Connor.

"May Irina and I have a moment to talk about this?" she asked.

"Sure." Connor slowly stood up from the table, rolling his ankles to make them pop, then pointed to an intercom panel on the wall. "If you're ready for seconds, push the red button and tell them you need a waiter to room 2. And, don't go all out, please. My wallet isn't exactly bottomless."

"That's fine. Thank you for the meal, truly." Xenovia lightly bowed her head.

"Sure thing. We'll be right outside." He showed himself to the door, lightly taking Asia's hand to bring her along as well.

Once the two girls looked back to each other, Connor glanced down to Jin's eyes and subtly cocked an eyebrow. The red orbs responded with a singular small nod.

'Caster, listen in for me, will you?'

'Sure.'

Exiting the room with Asia in tow, Connor walked back to the main dining area. More people were starting to come in now, and the tables were filling up fast.

He took a seat in front of Tobio, who was cleaning the serving areas at the bar.

"So, what's your take?" the agent asked, giving a knowing look up from the grill he was scrubbing.

"They both said something about a mission, and I figured they'd get defensive if I asked further. I'm missing some context, but this is definitely not a social call."

"Well, that's–" Just as Tobio started to comment, he caught sight of something at the entrance and stopped talking. Turning to look, Connor recognized a rather unusual group walking inside.

Koneko, Kiba and Issei of the ORC, and Saji of the Council made a rough diamond formation as they entered. Koneko stood at the front, followed by Issei and Saji on either side. Kiba lagged behind them, appearing as morose as Connor had ever seen him. All four of the students were dressed in casual clothes.

"Are you sure they're here, Koneko?" Issei asked, glancing to the lone girl in the group.

She nodded while her nose wrinkled. "Mm… They were with someone… Can't place it…"

The four Devils swept the place left to right and back again until Issei's eyes met with Connor's and he did a double-take.

"Connor? Asia?"

"Issei?"

"Uh, hey… what are you guys doing here?" Connor asked, looking between them.

"Believe me, I don't want to be here, but these two dragged me along," Saji pointed accusingly to Issei and Koneko. "Kaichō is going to beat my ass when she learns I was doing this."

Kiba stepped forward. "We were looking for a pair of young women that came to Kuoh recently. They met with both our Buchō and Saji's Kaichō earlier about important business, but there's been a new development we need to tell them."

Connor's curious expression dropped into a flat stare.

"Hang on, let me guess… Is one of them a twin-tailed, bubbly ball of sunshine and the other is hoisting a holy sword around like nobody should care?"

Kiba blinked, as did Saji and Issei. "Um, yes, actually. Do you know where they are?"

"Hold that thought. Asia, stay right here, please." Connor stood up and turned to quickly walk back to the private rooms, to the confusion of all but Tobio.

Shaking his head all while going back the way he came, Connor approached the sitting room door and knocked twice before sliding it open. He peeked his head inside to see the girls staring back at him in curiosity.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but there're some folks out here that wanna talk to you."

The two girls looked to each other, puzzled at first, until Xenovia's expression morphed in realization.

---

Taking off his shoes while seated at the genkan in his apartment, Connor grumbled to himself.

Thanks to Jin, who had continued to follow the exorcist duo in the shadows, Tobio was able to listen in on the discussion between the two groups. Caster had followed them as well, in spirit form, giving a play by play to Connor of the major talking points.

As it turned out, the four Devils had sought out the two girls in order to strike a deal with them. In exchange for their aid, the Devils wanted the assurance that they could destroy at least one of the 'fragments of Excalibur,' which struck both Connor and Caster as absurd. Not simply because of the short-sighted demand, but also the notion that Excalibur could really be in the state that everyone else seemed convinced it was in.

Irina and Xenovia had come to Kuoh in the first place on a mission to retrieve the 'fragments' after they had been stolen from the Holy Church in a series of raids and assassinations orchestrated by a Grigori Cadre named Kokabiel. Why the Church sent only two teens to find and recover a cluster of reforged holy swords made absolutely no sense. It was a suicide mission, if not a wild goose chase.

Xenovia had been the one to recognize this, oddly enough, and had agreed to allow for the Devils to have a shot at one of the swords. Irina protested, but Xenovia countered by telling her that their current chances of success were slim at best, and anything within their power to improve those chances should be taken. Their mission was evidently more important to her than any misgivings she had about Devils.

When the conversation shifted to Kiba, he explained to everyone why he seemed the most invested in this deal. Some odd years ago, he was a test subject for an experiment conducted by the Holy Church called the 'Holy Sword Project.' When the experiment was scrapped, the subjects were tossed into a gas chamber and killed off, with Kiba being the only one out of over thirty children to barely escape. The presence of the Excalibur fragments just brought up the hatred and the memories he held for anything remotely referencing holy swords.

According to Xenovia, the Church had excommunicated the head researcher, Valper Galilei, for his inhumane practices, but they were too late to stop him from executing his last victims. He managed to escape prosecution, and likely execution, by fleeing Europe and in time found asylum with the Grigori.

Connor had to keep a straight face through everything so that Tobio wouldn't know he was learning some rather interesting knowledge about both the Grigori and the Church.

Once the groups parted ways after exchanging contact information, Tobio warned Connor to be careful, but didn't give a reason. That went without saying, but the magus didn't argue. He just hoped that Tobio was looking somewhere other than at him.

When the exorcists came back inside to find Asia, they declined her invitation to stay at her apartment. The two explained to her that they were trained to adapt to situations like theirs, and that they could manage for a short time. Asia was saddened by this, but wished them well and told them that she would pray for their safety all the same.

And after a long walk back home, Connor finally had a bit of privacy to speak his mind on the matter.

"What a clusterfuck…"

"Well, it's not like we could expect anything less, kid," Caster said, reappearing mid-sentence from a swirl of blue motes behind Connor. "With the way you've described this place, I'm beginning to see what you meant by it being a breeding ground for disaster."

"You know, I'm surprised you didn't make any more comments than you did. With the knowledge you get from the Throne, I figured you would've said something about the Church being completely full of themselves." Connor glanced at the spirit over his shoulder.

"That's a given. What I had to say was nothing that needed to be said right then," Caster plainly replied before his easy expression turned into a frown. "At any rate, I don't buy any of that bullshit. Humans reforging a broken Divine Construct, let alone Excalibur? No damn way is that happening, in this lifetime or any other."

Divine Constructs were armaments crafted by gods or beings of similar power, so it was theoretically impossible for them to be altered in any way by anything other than the hands of their creator(s). In some cases, even those very creators would be hard pressed to do that anything more to a completed Construct.

"Then I guess the Church must have some other holy-type sword they're passing off as Excalibur due to… name recognition? That's about the only reason I can imagine."

"Maybe. In that case, it's probably Caliburn," the Heroic Spirit surmised. "It's legend is so closely tied to Excalibur's that most people wouldn't even know they were two different things. Similar power, but Caliburn was just a holy sword; breaking it would be entirely possible. There's also no record of it reappearing in Arthurian myth after it was stolen by Morgan Le Fay, so I can imagine people easily confusing it for the real thing if it was ever found but never properly checked."

Connor nodded. He could see it, too, but that raised even more questions. Why would the Church not verify the sword's identity upon its discovery? They had the resources, they had the money, so why would they not make sure it was the genuine article? Or did they actually, and keep the name after the sword's breaking just as an act of deception? If so, why did nobody call their bluff? Was there nobody around that could, for that matter?

The more he thought about it, the worse his resulting headache got.

Caster then gave that impish little smirk of his and wiggled his eyebrows. "On another note, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the little lady was trying to put together a harem for you."

"What? Oh… Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Connor rolled his eyes as the man's smirk sharpened. "Too much trouble. Besides, there's bigger problems here already, with more probably on the way. The dysfunctional duo are a bad omen, I just know it." The magus stood up and walked past his contracted Servant, turning into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

"You're preaching to the choir there, kid." Caster followed, then stopped to lean against the doorframe while crossing his arms. "So, between what we do know and what we don't, I've been thinking…"

Connor raised an eyebrow while cracking open a bottle. "Oh yeah? Thinking what?"

"What d'ya say we try summoning another Heroic Spirit?"

…

…

Connor had stopped with the bottle just touching his lips, lowering it as he turned to face Caster fully. The man's smile was still there, but the look in his eyes told the younger magus that he was not kidding.

"Uhh… Well… the first question I have is whether or not it would even work. Since I already have a contract with you, I mean. I don't know if Heroic Spirits are a one-per kind of thing."

"Well, not counting the info dump, you managed to summon me without too much issue. And even if it doesn't work, you've still got me." Caster's smile then completely faded. "But yeah, I get it. I've been wondering about it myself for a while, but I don't think there's any more time left to wonder. We're already in uncharted waters, and you need all the allies you can get. Reliable ones. Myself and the little lady won't be enough. And I'm just guessing here but, if something had happened to that vampire girl during my summoning, we'd be made aware of it in one way or another by now, right?"

That was true; Valerie's safety on account of the Graal was a high priority for the Grigori. If she was somehow affected by Caster's summoning, Connor would be the first person they suspected, and Tobio would take him in for questioning with all due haste. He had the means to do it, after all. The fact that he hadn't done so already pointed strongly to the possibility that Valerie was fine and that no one was aware of what Connor did that night.

Caster kept going. "Your buddy at the bar and those Devils seem to believe this Kokabiel guy and his gaggle of goons really are coming to town. If that's the case, can you look me in the eye and tell me you're ready to fight one of them again?"

Connor snorted, resisting the urge to give a silly answer to the silly yet reasonable question. "Like you said, I've still got you, but fair point. Alright, did you have a place where we can do this? Or what it is we can expect?"

"Think about it for a second. Right now, we don't have enough information about what's going on to come up with a workable plan, and sneaking around really isn't the Caster's strong suit. So, out of all the Servant classes I've told you about already, which one do you think is most suitable for gathering information quickly and quietly?"

"That would be the Assassin." The answer was quick, but then Connor's eyes widened slightly. "Wait, have you already got one in mind?"

"Not yet, but give me about a day's prep, and I should have both the catalysts and the summoning location covered. In the meantime, you can start with getting the ritual put together like you did before, then we'll both go over it and see what needs to be fixed before you start. This time, we'll make sure you get it right."

Connor's initial hesitation faded, and the familiar ember of excitement sparked to life in his chest again. He nodded slowly at first but, like a kindling flame, it slowly grew, just like the smile on his face that began to spread.

"Alright… yeah… yeah, you know what? Screw it, let's do this! It's too late to turn back, so let's take this as far as we can and ask questions later! Go big or go home!"

Caster threw his head back and laughed, but not out of teasing or half-hearted scorn like usual. It sounded more proud this time.

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 18: A New Ally

The skies were clear on that Tuesday night, giving an uninterrupted view of the stars and the moon as it cast its gentle reflection of the sun's rays onto the sleepy town. In the forest clearing to the north, two figures worked quietly among themselves.

Connor stood on the edge of a large diagram several meters across while Caster went back and forth within the diagram, examining it thoroughly. It was the exact same diagram Connor had used to summon Caster almost a month ago with some additions, courtesy of the Heroic Spirit. With Caster's help, the time spent drawing the ritual circle was cut down by several hours, which allowed Caster more time to double check it for faults.

Security was no issue for the spirit, either; using nearby trees as waypoints, he had created a cage of Bounded Fields that sealed off the entire clearing. Not even a bug could get in without Caster knowing about it.

As Connor watched Caster work, the index finger of his right hand tapped like a metronome against his left wrist.

"I can hear you doing that from over here, kid." Caster looked back to him in annoyance. "Cut it out."

Connor shook his head. "Sorry, just… got the jitters. I got myself so hyped up earlier and now the anticipation's killing me."

"It'll be fine. I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think it was possible, incoming catastrophe notwithstanding."

Over the previous day since deciding to summon another Servant, Connor's concern had focused on one important detail: energy supply. While his body had gotten used to working its magic circuits constantly, the rate of production remained largely the same. He wasn't exactly a magical energy reactor on the verge of melting down, so he worried the increased upkeep cost would leave him effectively drained and the Servants starved for energy at all times.

Caster confirmed that worry, but then further elaborated on why the Assassin was the best option if the ritual was to work again. From the standpoint of power, they were generally the second weakest behind Casters, but their magical energy intake was also the lowest out of the seven classes by a significant margin. Between the abundance of Mana available from the environment, his own methods of conserving energy and the Assassin's low rates of consumption, Caster seemed convinced that Connor would be able to handle the extra load.

Having the Sephiroth Graal on hand would have undoubtedly helped with eliminating some unknown factors in the process. Unfortunately, since the Grigori would likely never let Connor near it again, he had no choice but to work around its absence.

According to Caster, though, Connor had already done just that. His grandfather's ritual had made a way to substitute the initial energy required and the channel by which to summon something (or someone). Establishing the connection to the Throne was just the final piece to complete the formula, which the Graal had provided via the command seal.

"Glad you're so confident in our chances," Connor remarked.

"One of us has to be," Caster countered lightly, then stood up and clapped his hands together to dust off the chalk. "Okay, circle looks good! Now, for the catalysts." He walked back to the pile of supplies the two had brought with them and picked up a small satchel.

"Oh yeah, hey, what'd you end up getting that you couldn't tell me about?" Connor curiously asked the spirit as he passed him again, walking beside his contracted Servant on the return trip.

"It's not that I couldn't tell you, I just wanted to see the look on your face when you saw it all for yourself." From the satchel, Caster began pulling a number of items and setting them neatly in the circle's center. They ranged from tools like caltrops, lock picks, a bundle of rope and a spool of steel wire to small weapons like two double-edged daggers and some throwing stars.

As the answer clicked, Connor let out a baffled laugh. He had actually thought about a similar scenario earlier in the day, but dismissed it as an errant fantasy.

"A ninja? Really?"

"Don't knock it till you try it," the spirit grinned. "Chiyome Mochizuki, Hanzō Hattori, KotarōFūma, there's plenty of ninja throughout Japanese history that have made their mark on the world. And if I'm right, summoning a Heroic Spirit in their land of origin might have a few extra benefits for you."

Connor looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that the reputation they possess in their homeland may have an effect on the abilities they possess as a Heroic Spirit, if they were to be summoned in said homeland." Having emptied the satchel, Caster walked back toward the edge of the circle and tossed it aside.

"Huh…" the magus pondered for a moment. "Wait, could it have worked with you?"

"Maybe, but I think we're long past dwelling on that," Caster evenly dismissed before summoning his staff into his hand. "Alright, everything's set. Just need some blood, and from there on, it's all you."

"Right…"

Connor bent down to pick up the dagger from among the pile of catalysts. He briefly examined the implement before dragging its sharpened tip in a small trail on his left forearm, cutting the skin right beside the scar from where he drew blood for Caster's summoning. The blood dripped easily onto the diagram's epicenter, and he wiped the blade clean against his shirt sleeve before setting it down again.

Walking back to Caster's side, he absently ran through the healing sequence to close the new wound on his arm. With that done, he then lifted his right hand and counted down the seconds to begin.

'3… 2… 1…'

"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let black be the color I pay tribute to. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."

He released the gates, and the redirected Mana from the leyline surged into his body once again. Just like before, the fiery sensation was utterly consuming. In this moment, it was still intense, but not as jolting. He could take a breath without feeling like the air was being pulled from his lungs.

"Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill. Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled."

The wind picked up, just as ferociously as it had with Caster's summoning, but he was ready for it this time. Keeping his eyes guarded with his left arm, he continued.

"I hereby declare: Your body shall serve under me, my fate shall be your sword. If you abide by this will, this reason, then respond!"

The orb of light began to take shape, once more forming into a two-armed and two-legged being.

Caster watched the process stoically, his staff in his right hand. The spirit's gaze never wavered from the circle's epicenter, even while his robes and long hair flowed chaotically in the increasingly heavy wind.

Upon the last verses, Connor dropped his weight into his legs and dug his heels into the dirt.

"My oath to be sworn here: I shall attain all virtues of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of Hell! You seven heavens, clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"

The blast of air and light consumed the clearing, blowing away everything that wasn't bracing for it or held down by roots. Loose dirt kicked up into a plume of fine dust that prompted Connor to fully close his eyes and mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caster remain firmly in place.

Connor sent a pulse of Od through the circuits in his arm toward the seal. Whenever Caster took physical form, there was always a slight pull from the seal as it supplied the spirit with magical energy.

Now, he felt the energy being pulled in TWO directions! The summoning was a complete success!

When the dust settled, he opened his eyes and stared in awe at the new being brought to life.

This time, the figure was a woman, fair-skinned and bearing long black hair that was tied into a high ponytail by a maroon band. From her kneeling position, it was hard to approximate her age range but, based on her build, she was definitely an adult. Her outfit was fully reminiscent of a feudal-era kunoichi: a skin-tight black and maroon bodysuit with armor that adorned her torso and abdomen, and a long red scarf draped around her neck that fell down to the ground.

Yet, the most intriguing detail of the newly summoned spirit was her limbs. At first glance, she seemed to be wearing long gloves and stockings, but a deeper look showed differently. From her mid thighs to the feet and her upper arms to the hands were a complex series of black mechanical parts, crafted and fitted to near perfectly resemble the shape of human limbs. Her shoulders and hips connected these apparently false parts to her body by way of ball-and-socket joints, which also appeared composed of the same material.

The woman raised her head to look up at Connor, her hair framing the eyes as they opened to reveal pale golden orbs with small, diamond-shaped pupils of a slightly darker shade of gold. The look they shared with one another was of mutual curiosity, even while the rest of her facial expression remained completely blank. 

"Katō Danzō, activated. Requesting input, Master. As Danzō is a shinobi, I will obey any command." Her voice was soft, and her simple, robotic speech pattern further added to the motif of an inhuman nature. (1)

Exciting as it was for the ritual to have succeeded a second time, the name of the new arrival gave him slight pause.

"Danzō? As in…"

"The renowned shinobi and illusionist that was active during the later part of Japan's Sengoku period. Otherwise known as 'Flying Katō' or 'Black Kite,'" Caster elaborated, bringing his left hand to his chin. "Well, we wanted a ninja, and that's what we got. And a damn good one, at that."

"Yeah, but…" Connor trailed off as his mind began to wander.

'All the stories I've read about Danzō said he was a man… Oh, wait a minute… is this one of those homeland effects Caster was talking about? Did summoning Danzō inside Japan change him into this?'

"Hey," Caster poked the side of Connor's head, snapping him back to reality. "I know that look by now. Don't think too hard about it, you'll break something in your brain."

"I-I'm just trying to make sense of things," Connor replied. "What I know is running contrary to what we're seeing here."

"Okay, sure, but you can ponder about the little details after sealing the new contract, so get to it." He gave Connor a nudge, putting an end to the discussion.

"Alright, alright," Connor acquiesced, then turned his attention back to the new arrival and cleared his throat. She hadn't moved a centimeter from her position in the circle, still watching him intently. "You are the Assassin-class Servant, correct?"

"Correct," the woman nodded. Good grief, her poker face could make Koneko Tōjō seem emotional.

"Are you aware of what time period you're in?" he asked.

"Yes. It is the 21st century, approximately five hundred years since the time of my operation. Much has changed… Japan is no longer isolated from the rest of the world, and the clan I once served is no more. But, I am not without purpose." She bowed her head to Connor in deference. "In accordance with the contract by which I have responded, I am to serve you in any and all capacities possible. My skills and knowledge are yours to command, Master."

Connor stepped toward the kneeling Servant and held his hand out for her to take.

"Then, as your Master, I'll be glad to have you, Danzō. You may rise."

The shinobi lifted her head again and delicately grasped her summoner's hand with her own. Just like it had with Caster, the command seal gave a slight tingle as the pact was sealed.

Connor was more surprised, however, by something else. The material of her hand was cool and smoother than plastic, but not to the point of glassy. He could make out tiny contours across the surface that made each part appear woven together in a seamless mesh. Was a marvel of engineering like this even possible back in the 1500s?

On a curious whim, he applied Structural Grasp and came to an astonishing discovery: It wasn't just her limbs, her entire body was mechanical! Unlike Caster when he exited spirit form, there wasn't a part of her physically manifested body that could be considered organic! And yet, it looked so real, right down to her… proportions!

Her hand still in his grasp, Danzō then rose to her feet with fluidity and grace, not making a sound as she did so. Standing at full height, the top of her head reached to Connor's nose, while her eyes continued to study him.

It felt really awkward but, at the same time, flattering to be observed so closely and with such intrigue.

"Alright, kid, looks like everything worked perfectly."

"Yep, now for introductions." Connor stepped back and gestured to the older man. "Danzō, this is Caster, my first contracted Servant. You'll be working with him a lot in the near future. He still hasn't told me who he really is yet, but he's going by Grímnir for now."

She bowed lightly to the taller man. "I will be in your care, Lord Caster."

"Sure, but cut the 'Lord' crap," Caster waved off her greeting in slight distaste. "You can call the kid that all you want, but not me. The only hierarchy here is Master and Servant."

"Acknowledged. 'Lord Caster' is to be considered an impermissible form of address."

Caster opened his mouth, but then shrugged. "Yeah, good enough. Okay, kid, I'll take care of the cleanup. Now that we know it's possible to summon more than one Servant, we can come back and use this same site again, if you feel you're up to it."

"We'll tuck that away for when there's no potential crisis on our hands, okay? Okay." Caster waved, and while he got to work covering the site with debris and taking down the Fields, Connor turned his attention back to the automaton. "Anyway, I've got your first orders already, Danzō."

"Master, if I may speak freely?" the shinobi requested.

"Go ahead," he urged.

"My identity is too well known in this land. I believe it would be best if you were to address me by my class instead of my True Name."

Connor nodded. "Yeah, Caster told me about that business. Alright, if it's all the same, we'll go with Assassin."

A Servant's True Name did more than just tell who they were, based on Caster's lesson on the subject. It told everything about a Servant there was to know; their history, their strengths, their abilities, and most importantly, their weaknesses. As such, it was potentially compromising for an enemy to get a hold of that information and use it to their advantage.

Then again, it wasn't like anyone would believe straight away that she actually was Katō Danzō, even if it were to just slip out somehow. The legends about Danzō being what they were, her existence as a Servant clashed with the stories about him as a figure of Japanese history. For one thing, he was allegedly executed via decapitation. The secret of her true nature would have been revealed to all of history at that point, unless she used a real human as a substitute to fake her death.

"As you wish," Assassin responded. "What would you have me do, Master?"

Connor briefly explained the situation, detailing his meeting of the exorcists on Sunday and what he had learned from Caster's eavesdropping. He could ponder on historical contradictions later. By the time he had finished, Caster had completely disguised the ritual site and rejoined the pair.

"So, in essence, we need a spy," the Master summarized.

"I will begin immediately. If you wish it, I can also deploy a surveillance drone to monitor activity within and around this city at the same time."

"Go ahead, but be careful," he warned, curious about her offer. "There are other forces on the lookout as well, not just the Devils. Meet with Caster back here in two hours, then he'll show you to the apartment complex where I'm currently staying."

"Understood."

Her left shoulder opened up by way of a large panel. From within the cavity, something fired into the air and spread open like a bat unfurling its wings for takeoff. Connor only caught a brief glimpse of what looked like a kite, before it ascended into the night sky and blended with the darkness. He looked at Assassin again just as the compartment closed up and she vanished in the blink of an eye.

While he continued to stare in the empty spot in surprise, Caster clapped a hand on the young magus' shoulder.

"Close your mouth, kid, or flies'll start coming in. How d'ya feel?"

Connor closed his eyes and cast a Structural Grasp on himself, gauging his Od levels and the rates of distribution. True to Caster's word, Assassin's energy draw really was small; almost half of what Caster required on a normal day of keeping him manifested for training.

"I'm alright for now. The tank isn't full, though, so let's not tempt fate."

"Gotcha. Once Assassin gets back, I'll engrave some runes to let her draw energy from the apartment like I can. Let's get going; you've got a big day tomorrow." Caster released his shoulder, then vanished in flickers of blue light that scattered in the wind.

Connor stood still for a moment in idle thought before turning for home, his silent guardian beside him.

---

A mere three hours after the summoning, Connor stirred from blissful slumber. The sun had not even begun to peek over the horizon into his window, though its first rays were slowly changing the color of the sky back to peaceful blue.

Falling asleep proved to be something of a challenge. The magus was too interested in learning more about his newly contracted Servant to really relax, and he still had enough energy to toss about for a while. Eventually, his body succumbed to the bed's embrace, his mind following suit.

But, now that he was up, he could properly satiate his curiosity. That, and the tantalizing smell of bacon was beginning to waft in from beyond the door.

Checking the command seal, he felt both Servants currently in the apartment; one in the living room, the other in the kitchen. The latter was probably Caster making a quick breakfast. Stepping out of his room, he caught sight of the mechanical Servant kneeling in seiza on the floor.

"Assassin?"

The mechanical shinobi blinked as if waking up, then looked to Connor and lightly bowed her upper body. "Good morning, Master."

"Good morning… Why are you on the floor?"

"I told her she could have a chair, but she insisted on reporting to you 'properly,'" Caster spoke up, peeking his head out from the tiny kitchen's doorway. "Also, morning!"

"Indeed," Assassin confirmed. "I wished to deliver my report, but Caster advised that I not disturb your sleep outside of an emergency, so I waited."

"Oh. So, did you… just wait like that instead of going into spirit form?"

She shook her head, her long ponytail swaying side to side. "I was in standby mode. If I do not receive any sort of input for too long, I will enter standby mode to conserve energy."

"It's more or less the same as spirit form for her. She'll snap out of it if you just speak to her. Take a seat, kid. Breakfast'll be ready in about two minutes."

Shrugging, Connor pulled up a chair to the dining room table and motioned for Assassin to do the same. Without objection, she rose from her spot on the floor and took the other chair before recounting the night's events.

"To start with, I first tracked what I believed to be creatures of demonic origin and humans wielding holy armaments. Caster later informed me that they were Devils and exorcists working together in search of a common enemy. I followed them for nearly an hour before I decided to move on and scout the area on my own outside of the town's boundaries.

"In doing so, I discovered the remnants of a small camp about five kilometers to the west. From what I could observe, the occupants had left in a hurry, but not enough to leave the site in a haphazard state. What little I could find find had evidence of magic of some sort being used.

"When I reported my findings to Caster, he went to investigate the location as well and determined the magic to be holy-based. To boot, residue that he found on closer inspection indicated a complex ritual in its beginning stages taking place there. He and I both agree that someone was using the camp as a staging ground, far enough away to remain undetected by the local Devils."

"I see." The magus frowned, already forming an idea of who was responsible. It was a step up from trying to do their business inside enemy territory. But still, why even come to Kuoh in the first place? What were they after, if not all of the Excalibur fragments?

"Here ya go, kid. Get your grub on."

Caster setting breakfast down on the table hooked his attention; an all-in-one combination of bread, egg, bacon, cheese and random garnish. A quick and easy meal, taught to the spirit courtesy of a fisherman he had met on his Sunday trips.

Connor nodded his thanks to Caster. Before taking his first bite, he decided to finally address the question pervading his mind all night.

"Thank you for your diligence, Assassin. Now, I hope you'll pardon my bluntness, but what exactly are you? And I don't mean a Heroic Spirit, I mean… this." He gestured to her body with an slight motion of his left hand.

"I am a karakuri doll, Master," she answered sedately. "I was designed and constructed by the sorcerer Kashin Koji in collaboration with the First Head of the Fūma shinobi clan shortly after its founding."

Koji Kashin. Now there was a name shrouded in even more mystery than Danzō. Following his exile from a Buddhist temple, known facts about the heretical monk became almost nonexistent, but there were plenty of wild and outlandish stories to fill in the blanks. Some sources claimed he was a traveling stage magician that made a living by bamboozling daimyōs and the occasional shogun, while others stated that he did work as a shinobi, specializing in puppetry and illusions, much like Danzō.

Looking again at the sentient doll, Connor began to wonder how much more there was to the man than history realized. To build something like this, Kashin must have been an absolute prodigy of magecraft; alchemy, gradation air, transference of consciousness, and those were just some of the arts that more immediately came to mind.

Assassin continued, "My primary purpose was to serve as a shinobi of the Fūma. As the clan's influence and territory expanded over time, I was additionally tasked with helping to raise and train its future generations. Secondary functions were to catalogue and store information within my data banks. Things such as close combat forms, alchemy, and techniques of espionage, assassination and torture exclusive to the clan were chief among this knowledge."

"Pretty dangerous stuff to keep on hand," Connor observed. "Would I be right to assume that some of that is under lock and key?"

Assassin took a moment before answering, looking down slightly and creasing her brow. She was hesitating, almost as if she didn't want to say anything about it. Quite odd behavior for a literal killing machine.

"Yes. The most secret of these arts were sealed by the First Head of the Fūma prior to my activation. They were only to be utilized under his spoken order. Now that I have manifested as a Heroic Spirit, these arts have similarly transformed into a series of techniques that fall under a singular Noble Phantasm: the Yōjutsu Zanhō: Black Arts Decapitation Methods."

Connor straightened up a bit in his chair. "How many are there?"

"Seven."

The magus was lucky to not have anything in his mouth at that moment; he would have started choking on it.

Among the plethora of Caster's lessons about Heroic Spirits, the concept of Noble Phantasms had been a point of great interest to Connor. The druid described them as the most notable legends surrounding a Spirit that would manifest along with them, becoming what amounted to a Servant's greatest strength. Depending upon the legends themselves, these Phantasms could take on a number of forms or functions, be they tools or weapons or even a part of the Servant's own body. Whatever the case, they were essential to that Servant's ability to fight and turn a battle in their favor.

Unfortunately, the active use of a Noble Phantasm required an enormous amount of magical energy to power, far more than what Connor would normally be able to provide. The only way around that would be to cast a command spell and have the Servant release that Phantasm in a crucial moment. Timing would be everything.

"These techniques are still sealed, however, so I cannot use them freely. My apologies, Master."

That tracked; if they were sealed in life as explicitly as she claimed, then it stood to reason that they would remain that way in her current form. He could probably still force their use with a command spell to bypass the restriction, but her reaction to his question about them was concerning.

"Er, that's alright. Do you have one that's more… readily accessible? One tied to your own legends and not the clan?"

"I do," Assassin replied with a nod. "My personal Noble Phantasm is not very… subtle, shall I say, and a much larger area is required to properly use it. Other shinobi techniques that I can use do not possess the same restrictions as the Black Arts. Those are more fundamental ninjutsu, as well as tools and illusionary arts of Kashin-sama's own design."

Connor was having a hard time containing himself at this point. "Can you elaborate on that?"

"My limbs are equipped with multiple offense-based Mystic Codes that allow for swift elimination of targets, both from long ranges and in close quarters." She lifted her arms from the table and curled her fingers. A pair of large, curved blades suddenly flicked out from her forearms in response, both of which were attached to her wrists, then withdrew as she relaxed her arms again. "The rest of my body contains a number of self-support and repair systems that work to keep me fully operational at all times."

If Connor wasn't convinced before that he had struck gold with this Servant, he was positive of it now. Whatever supposed lack of power she possessed as a Heroic Spirit, Assassin made up for it several times over in utility. Not that she was actually lacking in power, what with two Noble Phantasms and a slew of other ninja tricks at her disposal.

Before he asked further, Connor's phone buzzed as one of his backup alarms went off, reminding him of the time.

"Agh, right. We'll have to pick this up later this afternoon, Assassin. For now, I need to get ready to go." Finishing his breakfast, Connor stood from the table and went to move for the bathroom.

"You do not require a guard?" Assassin asked, tilting her head slightly.

"No, that's–" Connor thought for a moment until he remembered something from Caster's lessons. "Actually, yes, I'd be glad for you to accompany me today, Assassin."

"Kid?"

"It's okay, Caster," the magus assured. "I just thought this may be a chance to see how good the school's defenses are at detecting unknown magical entities."

The Heroic Spirit caught on, and his own smile mirrored the Master's. "I see."

"Very well, Master." The mechanical shinobi stood from the chair and approached Connor dutifully.

"Uh, not just yet, w-we've got a couple minutes!" he hastily stopped her, lest she follow him into the bathroom.

He was all for having his own personal Terminator, but not Secret Service detail; that was too much.

---

For the next day and a half, it had been oddly peaceful in Kuoh.

Connor's plan about Assassin's Presence Concealment skill worked perfectly; nobody among the Devils at the academy had any idea she was beside him in spirit form all day, and the barriers around the school failed to detect her as well. The night before was a strong testament to her skill anyway, to be able to tail an entire group of people with no one being the wiser.

Assassin remained largely silent while on bodyguard duty throughout the day, on alert for potential threats. She did ask questions every now and then, most of which pertained to the other students and their affiliation to Connor, such as Asia, the Student Council and the other members of the Calligraphy club.

Her curiosity likewise extended to the Devils within the school. Now close enough to inspect them clearly, she expressed concern about his safety in their presence, citing that some species of oni –such as kijo– were capable of shapeshifting. It took some reassuring, but he was able to convince the automaton that these were creatures of a different sort. (2)

Come Thursday night, Assassin was back on scout patrol while Caster and Connor were on standby at the apartment. The Heroic Spirit watched as the Master fiddled with some of the sorcery ore he had gotten from Tobio. He had almost forgotten about it, but Caster's recent suggestion of crafting new runestones that enacted the Primordials jogged his memory.

Firstly, he had to cut and shape appropriately sized pieces from the ore, then carve the proper runes onto them with an enchanted stone-cutting pick, and finally imbue them with magical energy using an old ritual based off of jewel magecraft. The cutting and shaping was no issue with the aid of a reinforced craftsman's knife, but the carving and imbuing would be more difficult.

The Primordial runes bore more all-encompassing definitions compared to the modern variety. This sudden shift in what amounted to a different dialect of the same language meant that he had to pay extra attention to the rune's connotation during the transference of magical energy.

According to Caster, this was a task he had to accomplish with own hands or he would learn nothing from the experience.

He was almost ready to begin shaping the cut pieces when Assassin's voice suddenly rang in his mind, causing him to snap his eyes up.

'Master, I have detected a battle to the south-southwest of the city. Combatants identified to be Devils and exorcists. Multiple holy swords detected in the area.'

"Trouble!" he announced to Caster, grabbing the remote control of the TV set.

'How far away is it? Does the drone have a visual?'

'Two point five kilometers. Bringing it into view now.'

Connor had pitched the wild idea earlier that morning that perhaps it was possible to integrate or otherwise adapt Assassin's Mystic Codes to modern technology. Caster had 'borrowed' one of her surveillance drones as a test for the theory and, by the time Connor came home from school, had set it up to transmit its video feed to the living room TV via runes. Essentially, he had retrofit a CCTV camera. Assassin had deployed that same unit for its maiden flight just a short while after the sun went down.

The screen flickered to life slowly, and the drone's camera zoomed in to better view the scene, transmitting its findings in black-and-white. The resolution wasn't terrific, but it was good enough to make out who was whom and where. In front of some odd-looking monument, Connor made out the Gremory and Sitri Devils along with Irina and Xenovia engaged in combat against a man in exorcist's garb.

The first thing that crossed Connor's mind as he watched the scuffle was the hideous appearance of the swords in all three of the exorcists' hands. Those were supposed to be the Excalibur fragments? Who in their right mind would think that those monstrosities were related to the Sword of Promised Victory?

"Well, looks like the brats found 'em," Caster remarked, watching the footage closely.

"Yeah... or maybe they wanted to be found…"

Allied combatants were continually swapping places to fight the hostile exorcist, but nobody was gaining ground on that front. He exhibited the same speed as Kiba, swung his weapon with purpose and experience, and his wide grin was fully visible in the camera's telescopic lens.

For almost a full minute, the fight continued this way until a new figure arrived on the scene, drawing all attention to himself. It was an older man with balding, curly gray hair and a thin mustache, dressed in stately priest robes and bearing an absolutely hollow smile. The hostile exorcist suddenly broke off from the battle and regrouped with the old man, then tossed several flash bombs to cover their escape into the woods. Once the bright light died down, Irina, Xenovia and Kiba gave chase, leaving their three cohorts behind at the building.

"Oh, those idiots, they're running right into an ambush!" Caster growled, then pointed to the corner of the camera feed. "Look! The enemy's got air support!"

Connor turned his attention back to the feed. In the probe's field of view, a lone figure hovered over the battle. Their elaborate, armored black robes hid their physique from immediate view, and five pairs of jet-black feathered wings stretched out behind them, almost camouflaging them against the night sky like Assassin's kite.

"Ten wings… that must be–"

The figure raised an appendage and formed two light spears, then casually tossed them into the forest. The beams of light each struck the earth with the force of a naval artillery cannon, sending up tall clouds of dust and debris on impact.

'Assassin, new orders!'

'Awaiting input, Master.'

'Get in there and help the exorcists escape. If the chance arises, secure an Excalibur fragment, but retreat if that Fallen Angel spots you. Avoid confrontation with him at all costs.'

'Understood. Returning drone to begin pursuit.'

'Alert me if something changes. Good luck.'

Connor turned to look at Caster. "Make sure the Fields around the building are reinforced. Assassin's gonna try and grab a fragment. If she comes back with one, we need to keep it out of sight and out of mind."

The spirit nodded and materialized his staff. "Got it. Should we get the little lady in here, just in case?"

"I'll do that, at least to let her know what's going on." Connor heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "If worst comes to worst, we may be getting more directly involved in this than I first thought."

"A little late for that, but I'm not complaining!" the Servant said with a rather intimidating grin making its way onto his face. "I haven't had a real fight since I got here! I need some action!"

While a part of Connor was hesitant to unveil the Heroic Spirits to the world, another part was actually somewhat eager to see what would happen.

---

Irina kept her breathing steady while she ran after the murderous priest and his accomplice into the woods. To her left was Kiba of the Gremory peerage, with Xenovia leading the group.

She didn't know how far the two criminals were planning to go –there was a lot of wooded area around Kuoh– but she and Xe couldn't afford to lose them now! They were right there, and so were the Excaliburs!

Xenovia turned her head to look back to her partner as they ran. "Irina, I'm going far right! You and Kiba swing around to the left and cut them off–"

In the next instant, Irina was no longer running. A massive explosion all but erupted the ground underneath her, sending the exorcist flying backward like a ragdoll. It felt much longer, but for a very brief moment, she felt completely weightless.

At least, until she landed hard and her back slammed against a tree.

Everything hurt, especially her chest, and her vision was reduced to a myriad of blurs. She leaned against the tree to slowly pull herself up, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as the pain in her chest sharpened.

"Xe? Kiba?" she called out. Hearing no reply, she shouted. "Xe, where are you?!"

The sounds of nighttime insects were her only answer. A cold sweat formed on her brow as she came realize she was now completely alone. Surrounded by darkness and trees that almost seemed to loom over her and block out the light of the moon and stars.

A cluster of bushes suddenly rustled nearby. She turned to face that direction, Excalibur Mimic poised to strike in its single-edged form, but she saw nothing. Then another noise, and another, all coming from different directions. Someone, or something, in the forest was circling her.

"Hehehehehehahahahehe…"

A cruel, demented laugh came next from the woods. The sound bounced left to right against the surrounding trees, creating the sensation of being trapped in a rattling cage.

"Hehehehehehahahahehe…"

'This has to be Excalibur Nightmare,' she thought. No other weapon she knew of could make someone seem like they were everywhere at once. It was only an illusion of such, but the human mind played tricks on itself when the eyes couldn't see.

"Hehehehehehahahahehe…" "Hehehehehehahahahehe…" "HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHE…" "HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHE…" "HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHEHE…"

The sounds quickly grew to deafening levels; she couldn't even hear herself think over the noise! She wanted so desperately to cover her ears and make it stop! But she couldn't… Not while this heretic–

"Peek-a-boo!"

She whirled around again, just in time to see the crazed exorcist swinging his stolen Excalibur Nightmare right for her eyes.

---

"GAAAGH! AAAAGGHH!"

Freed watched in delight as the little exorcist wench screamed and fell backward, writhing and clutching at her face while Excalibur Mimic fell from her hand.

He couldn't stop the grin that formed on his lips.

It truly amazed him how Excaliburs Transparency and Nightmare working in tandem could make torture and murder so much more fun. Slashing someone's eyes out almost always resulted in unadulterated panic just barely overshadowing intolerable pain, and it never got old to him.

It went without saying that he was… different… from most people. When normal people heard the sounds of pain or fear at their maximum intensity, they would either run from it, or try to shut it out if escape wasn't possible. The way he saw it, there was never enough of either to go around. Such sounds were like the dulcet tones of wind chimes in his ears, a familiar melody that he could hum along to with just, the right, touch~

Not even hum, really; Freed sometimes felt the urge to sing 'Ave Maria' if they managed to hit the right key. He was made for this kind of thing, after all, so why not have some fun with it? And why stop at just the first tune?

In the midst of his musing, he noticed the girl get to her hands and knees and desperately try to crawl away. Not like she could go very far, blinded and in the dead center of a wooded area, so he quite casually kept pace with her while derisively smiling. Coming to a stop beside her, he reversed his grip on Nightmare and stabbed its slender blade into her leg.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!"

"Tsk," he clicked his tongue. He was aiming for the back of her knee to inflict maximum pain, but she moved at the last moment, and her thigh was impaled instead. Oh well, horseshoes and hand grenades.

He glanced up through the trees to where Kokabiel had launched his light spears earlier. The big guy had moved on, likely having gone after the other exorcist and that boy scout of a Devil for the fragment they had with them.

His victim now pinned, Freed went back to pick up the forgotten Excalibur Mimic. He stared at his new prize for a while, then looked back to the still screaming tramp and grinned. There was a slow execution method from ancient China he'd read about and always wanted to try, but never had a very fitting tool for the job.

Until now, of course.

"Let's see what hurts more…"

Willing the Excalibur Mimic to take several different forms before settling on a simple knife, he cackled and approached her again, ready to begin his grisly experiment. He stopped directly over her and started to bend down when he noticed something.

It had gotten quiet… very quiet. Even with the wench below him crying and hyperventilating with pain, it was deathly quiet all around them. The nighttime creatures has stopped making noise, and the air itself felt a bit chillier. His smile returned as he recognized this feeling; it was the kind of killing intent that a predator would project while on the hunt that had everything around it stop to watch the carnage.

Suddenly, he heard something cutting through the air as it sped toward him from behind. Several, in fact. Twisting his body and his arm, he transformed Mimic into a whip and swung it to his left side to intercept the flying objects. They hit the ground with soft thumps, giving Freed the chance to see what they were.

Shurikens? Daggers? Needles?

"Okay, what the hell?" he asked to the forest with a smirk, spreading his arms tauntingly. "Who's the wannabe ninja that's trying to screw with me, huh? I'm a little busy right now, so come back in a few minutes after I've had my fun, okay?"

There was no reply, unsurprisingly. Someone was trying to pull the same trick he just did on the noisy bitch behind him. How stupid did they think he was? He knew how to play this game. He transformed Mimic into a pocket knife and slipped both it and Transparency into his coat, then drew Excalibur Rapidly and his favorite gun in quick succession. Taking several steps away from the trapped girl, he placed himself at the center of the open area to give himself plenty of room to react. His eyes darted from left to right, scanning the area while he continued to listen.

The killing intent was still hanging like a cloud, so they hadn't left.

"Well, c'mon! Let's see it, if you're so eager!"

Again, no response.

…

Five seconds passed with no change.

…

His posture relaxed a bit, and he was just about to taunt his would-be attacker again when he heard a new noise coming from his right. It sounded like a firecracker shooting off into–

He looked, and saw something flying toward him at high speed.

Was that a fucking missile?!

"WHOA!"

It was only by the blessing of Excalibur Rapidly that Freed was able to duck just enough for the incoming projectile to pass over him. He very briefly felt the heat created by the propulsion system as it passed him, then carried the warhead into a nearby tree.

The missile detonated, destroying the tree and sending Freed off his feet and tumbling across the ground. He came to rest with a faceful of dirt, which had him wiping his eyes and spitting as he sprang back up.

"Pth-pthugh! What –pugh–the fuck?!" he rasped between retches and spits. "Who –pthgh– who the fuck is shooting goddamn rockets at me?!"

Drawing Mimic back out with his left hand, he stood and waited for another attack. Once again, though, he was met with only silence, minus the slight ringing in his ears and the sounds of splintered wood and bark still raining down around him.

Morbid curiosity made him look back at the tree, not that there was much left to look at. The trunk was obliterated, while what remained of the base was completely uprooted. Limbs, leaves and branches were scattered everywhere, and large sections of bark from several nearby trees had been torn off from the blast wave. If he had been any closer, or tried to destroy the missile mid-flight, he would probably be missing a few important parts at that moment.

It was only then that he noticed the exorcist wasn't making any more noise. Did she pass out, or did the explosion kill her? He turned to look in her direction, but saw nothing.

She was just gone.

…

She and Excalibur Nightmare were both gone!

…

His mouth dropped open, the taste of soil forgotten as the realization hit him like a crowbar to the skull: He'd been had. Him, Freed Sellzen, had been played like a motherfucking fiddle by some cock-sucking wannabe ninja with an RPG!

"Oh, fuck me..."

This was bad – this was actually beyond bad. What did it matter if he had Excalibur Mimic now if it just meant losing Nightmare in exchange?! Freed looked up again, hoping the big boss hadn't come back and seen him embarrass himself. To his relief, the Cadre wasn't there.

'It's okay, Freed! Don't panic,' he forced himself to calm down. 'Nobody sees, nobody knows. You can still fix this.'

Old man Valper could still pull off what he was brought in to do, but the fewer Excalibur fragments made available to him, the weaker the end product would be for Freed to use. With Nightmare now gone, they only had three of the seven pieces – too little to really justify the partial reforging the old coot was planning.

Freed had to get that Excalibur back, pronto! Not just for the sake of the plan, but for his own sake as well. But first, he had to find the trail. With how heavily the little whore had been bleeding, it was clear that he'd hit something vital when he stabbed her, maybe her femoral artery. Tracking her, or whatever grabbed her, shouldn't be too difficult.

…

…

Except that it was.

After scouring the area for clues, he couldn't find anything. There were no tracks, no blood splatters, no broken foliage beyond what the missile destroyed, and the lingering smell of sawdust and black powder in the air covered up any possible scent. He couldn't even sense any foreign magic signature nearby.

"Shit,… shit, shit, shit!"

His mind raced about in a worried frenzy of what to do until he remembered: The boss had gone after the blue-haired bitch, with Valper close behind. Maybe if he caught up with them, he could get that Excalibur instead. From the moment he saw it, he knew Excalibur Destruction would be mountains of fun to use. Having decided to save the best for last, though, he had targeted the twin-tailed bitch first. A fat load of good that did him now.

He hated it; he despised the idea of leaving a job or a kill unfinished, but without a trail or time to follow it, he had no other choice. He had to forget about this one and move on. With a frustrated huff, he abandoned the small clearing and charged into the woods after his new target.

Somebody had made a fool out of him tonight, and soon enough, they were going to die brutally for it.

---

…

1): Artwork by syutsuri5 at Zerochan.net.

2): Female demons of Japanese folklore depicted to be more magically inclined than a typical oni.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 19: Intercession

Assassin traversed the forest for about one and a half kilometers, leaping from tree to tree before coming to a stop at the foot of an enormous old elm. The exorcist in her arms had fallen unconscious by this point, overwhelmed by the pain of her wounds.

Originally, she had been in silent pursuit of the Fallen Angel, keeping her distance and moving to try and intercept his next target. Upon hearing a scream emanating from another part of the forest, though, Assassin abandoned the chase and doubled back. She arrived in time to see the hostile exorcist impale the girl's leg with a sword that her memory recognized as an Excalibur fragment.

Relaying the situation to her Master, he revised his orders to her. Now, her objective was to retrieve both the sword and the exorcist, Irina Shidō.

In a strange way, it reminded her of the time she was tasked by Uesegi Kenshin to steal a prized weapon belonging to one of the daimyō's own retainers. Infiltrating a heavily fortified castle undetected, she not only succeeded in stealing the weapon, but also abducted a servant girl and sent most of the guarding force into a blind panic on her way out. Some of Kenshin's other retainers would later speculate that she did this to show off her skills to the aspiring lord, but the truth was much simpler, and far more damaging to her swiftly growing reputation at the time.

Tonight, though, there was no hidden agenda or motivation. The job at hand was strictly to save a life.

Throwing the first set of projectiles at the hostile had been a test of his reflexes. He responded quickly and left no gaps in his guard while simultaneously searching for his attacker and keeping within visual range of his bleeding hostage. There was little time for her to engage him any further, especially considering the girl's injuries.

Cognizant of the girl's blood loss, Assassin opted to use overwhelming firepower as a distraction. In the few brief seconds that the man took to recover from the missile blast, she had quietly secured her objectives and escaped.

Now that she had gotten far enough away from any potential hostile, she could immediately render the first aid that the girl so desperately needed.

Setting her down gently, she lightly rolled Shidō onto her left side and assessed the damage. The wound was dire, and the skin around it was slowly turning purple from subcutaneous hemorrhaging. Fortunately, it appeared as if the majority of the bleeding had been staunched, largely by the sword itself, so a tourniquet around the thigh was not necessary. All that would be needed for the moment was to stabilize the blade for the rest of the trip to the apartment.

'Master, I must take measures to secure the wound,' she reported.

'Do what you have to do, Assassin. We're ready here.'

Assassin took a dagger from her forearm and carefully cut away the girl's long boot down to the knee. She then removed the scarf from around her own neck and began weaving it around and across the leg. After making at least four loops, she slowly pulled the scarf's ends together in order to create pressure; then she tied them into a secure knot. Blood seeped from the wound and into the cloth, but remained controlled.

Her work complete, she picked up the girl, being careful to hold the weapon as steady as possible, and took off back to her Master's apartment.

---

Connor stood in the living room, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his Servant and her rescue target.

Assassin's initial report stated that Irina would need immediate medical attention, but taking her to the local hospital was absolutely not happening. Too many people, both doctors and police, would ask too many questions about why such a young girl was maimed using something that belonged in a museum. Connor had no desire to hypnotize every single person involved into forgetting about the whole affair.

They had to perform the treatment themselves.

To that end, Asia was sitting down beside him with her head bowed in prayer. She had been getting ready for bed when Connor knocked on her door and informed her of the situation that would require her aid. The plan was to get Irina inside, get the sword out of her, and get her patched up as soon as possible.

Hopefully, they weren't already too late to act.

"She's here," Caster alerted.

Assassin crossed the Bounded Field and came into view before Connor could react. In one arm, she was cradling the exorcist with no apparent difficulty, and in the other hand, she held the instrument of Irina's misery.

No words left the magus' mouth, but some bile did almost come up his throat. While Connor was able to hold himself from vomiting, Asia could not. The former nun immediately spun for a corner of the living room and started retching her dinner into a trash can.

Irina herself was unconscious. Considering her current condition, that was a good thing.

Her black bodysuit was torn in several places, with small cuts dotting the underlying skin. A long gash almost completely bisected the bridge of Irina's nose and ran across the lower eyelids on either side, angling up slightly on the left. The blood that came out of the grisly cut painted the lower half of her face in streaks of red.

By far, the most egregious among her injuries was the massive sword lodged in her right leg. The tip jutted from the top of her thigh by several centimeters, while the majority of the weapon hung from behind her knee. Due to its size and the awkward positioning, Assassin had to turn and walk sideways simply to get herself and Irina through the narrow passage beyond the door.

Assassin sidestepped into the living room, passing Asia, while Connor pushed the chair and coffee table aside to make what space he could. Caster approached and took the sword's grip from Assassin's hand to let her move more freely. The two Servants then wordlessly coordinated to carry the girl and set her down on her left side.

"Hold her still," Connor commanded. Bringing his hands to rest on Irina's face and leg, he closed his eyes and initiated a Structural Grasp to assess the damage.

The damage to her eyes wasn't as bad as he'd first feared. The corneas were lacerated, but the eyeballs hadn't lost any of the vitreous fluid that kept them inflated. Asia could fix them and the nose without much trouble.

There were large cracks in three ribs along her left side, and a fourth rib right above those was broken in half. Breathing wasn't compromised, but it was very labored. In addition, there seemed to be something in the center of her chest, right beneath her sternum, and it was so small that Connor almost missed it. However, it didn't seem to be doing anything or show any kind of reaction to his prodding or Irina's trauma, so he made a note of it for later.

Further down, the great saphenous vein in the right leg had been cleanly severed by the large blade, which was where the majority of the blood seemed to be coming from. There was also a number of cut muscles and tendons around the knee, undoubtedly making any kind of movement excruciating. To Connor's amazement, though, there was no damage to any of the deep veins in her leg, and the blade's edge had stopped within millimeters of the femoral artery.

'Someone's lookin' out for you,' he silently commented. It could still cause a problem on the way out but, even if the artery was accidentally cut, Asia would be able to heal her before she bled to death.

"How's it look?" Caster asked.

"Bad, but could be worse, by a lot. Still gotta move fast, so let's go ahead and get this thing outta here."

Connor took his position beside Irina, supporting her head and keeping a grip on her shoulders just in case she snapped awake and struggled. Assassin wrapped an arm around Irina's thigh and began unbinding the scarf from around the wound. As she did this, Caster adjusted his grip on the sword's handle with his right hand and held the blade loosely with his left.

"Everyone ready? Asia?"

The former nun, having somewhat recovered from her vomiting fit, stood behind Assassin and cast anxious glances toward everyone.

"U-uh– I… y-yes, I-I'm ready," she managed to get out through her shaking.

"You sure? We can't do this without you." He didn't want to pile on the pressure for her, but it was the absolute truth; Irina would die without her help.

Asia stopped and looked down to Irina again, before slamming her eyes shut. A full body shudder took hold, and she clasped her hands tightly with one another. For a little over ten seconds, she remained in place, rapidly muttering prayer after prayer in Italian. Finally, she made the sign of the cross and knelt down beside Assassin, then looked to Connor and nodded.

This was as good as she would get, with what was to come.

"You got her, kid?"

Connor's jaw tightened. "Yeah, do it quickly!"

"On three… One, two, three!"

The druid tugged the sword free from its confinement, opening up the wound once more and allowing for blood to be released again.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!"

No sooner had the blade begun to leave her flesh than Irina let out the most agonized, ear-piercing shriek the magus ever had the displeasure of hearing. Being so close to her as she did so made his ears ring. Immediately following her scream, the exorcist coughed and writhed as she inhaled too deeply and aggravated the injured ribs. Her arms came up to claw at her chest, but only dug into Connor's arm. Connor glanced up and saw Asia about to scream as well, unable to look away from the blood now freely running out of Irina's leg.

"Heal, hurry!" Connor said loudly, making the nun jump.

Asia crawled forward and had only just started when Irina stopped coughing and thrashing. She turned to Connor, her eyes wide with renewed horror as he checked the girl's neck for a pulse.

"C-C-Connor?" she whimpered.

"It's okay, she just passed out again. Stay calm and focus."

Asia put her hands around the leg and desperately invoked the Gear's power. Step by step, the skin and tissue torn apart by the sword began pulling itself back together. The blood that had leaked into Irina's leg and caused the discoloration actively reversed its flow, going back into the blood vessels from whence it came before the vessels sealed shut. With movement reminiscent of alien worms, the severed tendons stretched and inched their way back toward each other, fusing together at the ends.

All eyes were on the wound as it closed completely, leaving the exorcist free from the life-threatening trauma that existed mere minutes ago.

"Incredible…" Assassin muttered in genuine shock.

"Isn't it, though?" Caster added.

Connor didn't stop. "Okay, now come fix the eyes!"

Asia crawled toward him and brought her hands up to Irina's face, the luminescent green aura of Twilight Healing quickly encompassing the exorcist's entire head. As the Sacred Gear worked to reverse the damage and return her eyes and nose to their previous state, Connor could've sworn he saw her expression relax slightly, even though her whole body was already completely limp.

"The ribs next, she broke a few. C'mon, keep it goin'!"

Turning her attention to Irina's torso, Asia willed the green glow to fall over the girl once again. The effect was almost immediate, much like it had been with Connor. Irina's pain was gone, which let her breathing even out, and the cuts all along her upper body disappeared.

Once the glow stopped and the process was complete, Asia sat back on the floor in a daze. Connor was about to roll Irina onto her back and take a seat himself.

"Don't relax, Master." Assassin knelt beside him and put her hands to Irina's neck and wrist. "Her temperature and blood pressure are falling, she's going into shock!"

'Shit!'

"Kid, bring her here!" Caster called from the bedroom.

Connor hurriedly pulled the exorcist up and looped his arms under her body, carrying her bridal-style and rushing to the bedroom. Upon entering, he took note of Caster drawing some runes onto the floor at the head of the futon. The bed itself was now bare of any covering, so Connor set her down in the center. He stepped back just as Caster stood to his feet.

"Ansuz, Fehu, Dagaz, Raidho, Ehwaz, Perthro!"

The runic sequence activated, and a bright orange circle appeared beneath the futon. Connor felt an odd heat coming from the walls, and the room's air pressure seemed to change. It wasn't crushing or stifling, but it was denser than before. Offhandedly, he wondered if this was similar to being in an incubator.

"This'll keep her steady, but it's only temporary," Caster warned. "She's got to get new blood to replace what she's lost and stabilize everything. Get her out of that suit and get something to keep her warm."

Connor moved to grab the sheets that had been thrown to the corner of the room in previous haste. Gathering them up in a bundle, he turned back to look at Irina and suddenly froze. Assassin had come in behind him and taken a dagger to start cutting away what remained of Irina's outfit. He had stopped because he turned around just in time to see the chest and abdomen area of the suit come apart, and Irina's bare breasts to almost pop free from their restraints.

Caught completely off guard despite the situation, the magus reacted like anyone his age, with his eyes fixed on the twin mounds of feminine flesh. Assassin, too focused on her task to pay much heed to Connor's sudden stop, continued removing the suit, drawing alarmingly close to Irina's pelvi–

"QUIT STARING AND MOVE, IDIOT!"

Like taking a bucketful of ice water down his back, Connor jumped and got back to work.

He tossed the cotton sheets on first, then took a couple of wool blankets from the closet and spread them on top of that. By this time, Assassin had finished her cutting and stepped back. Her hands, arms and the front of her suit were now tinted in a shade of dark red that made her appear far more intimidating with the stoic expression she continued to wear.

"Assassin, can you perform a transfusion?" he asked to the mechanical Servant. It hadn't seemed like it at first, but only after the words had left him did he realize what a stupid question that was to ask a professional killer. She answered without reproach, though.

"Yes. Careful administration of poisons and truth serums is an essential skill for interrogations, therefore a knowledge of human anatomy and basic medical procedures is included in my database."

"Oh, good… Alright, here's your next task: Get yourself cleaned up, then head for the hospital and grab whatever supplies are needed for this; catheters, saline solution, IV setups, all that. Look for blood bags labeled type 'O negative' – that's the universal donor type, anyone can receive it. And while you're there, get doubles of everything and a lot of hydrogen peroxide."

"Understood," the automaton acknowledged before vanishing with a flicker.

Connor heard a hiccup, and turned to see Asia standing in the doorway. She was looking down at Irina, tears falling from her eyes in panic. Standing to his feet, he approached the distraught nun and put his arms around her, moving himself between her and the others in the room. He couldn't help but notice her flinch as he embraced her; it probably didn't help that there was still some blood on his hands.

"It's gonna be okay, Asia, it's gonna be okay," he whispered. "You did good, and the worst is over. We've got it under control now, she'll make it."

She didn't respond verbally, but merely put her head into her hands and continued crying. Connor pulled her into his chest and rubbed her back in circles while rocking her slightly, which drew some heavier sobs from the girl. The two stayed like that for more than a minute before Connor pulled away to tilt her head up at him.

"Asia, listen." He wiped a tear coming down her cheek. "I know I've asked a lot of you tonight, but there's another thing I need you to do for me. I need you to take a break while we wait for Assassin to come back with supplies."

"A-Assassin?" she trembled.

Connor almost cursed, having forgotten that Asia was never introduced to the new Servant. "Don't worry, she's just like Caster. She's a friend."

"I – ah…" Her eyes began to drift back to the bloody scene behind her, but Connor pulled her slightly to keep her focused on him.

"Mm-mm, don't look at that, don't even think about it. I'll deal with all that, so put it as far from your mind as you can. You've done your part, now it's my turn. Just keep your eyes up, clean up, have a seat, and relax, okay?"

She took a long moment to stop and collect herself as best she could.

"…O-okay."

Keeping himself between Asia and the rest of the scene, he guided her to the restroom so she could get her hands and face washed. While she did that, Connor went back to the living room to pick up the discarded sword and scarf and move them to the bedroom. He would have to clean up the rest of the mess later.

He propped the sword up in the corner, his mind wandering as he looked down at the blade which was still sticky with blood.

'I shouldn't have sprung all that on her at once,' he lamented. 'She wasn't ready for any of that.'

'Didn't have much choice, kid. We couldn't help the girlie the way Little Lady can, and time wasn't on our side. You know that.'

'…Yeah… still… Assassin, what's your status?'

'Accumulating the last of the supplies, Master. Exfiltrating in five seconds.'

The magus quietly exhaled, thankful to the Root that someone so damn fast had answered his summon.

No less than a minute later, a spotless Assassin returned with everything that was needed. In one hand, she held two medical bags filled to the zippers with equipment, while the other hand carried a transport tote with several pouches of blood and saline inside.

Connor gave a quick inspection of the blood, then nodded to the automaton, confirming his next order.

With only a very small amount of aid from Connor, she put together the equipment and started the IV line in Irina's left arm. From there, she spiked and primed the first blood bag to begin a slow drip of the life-fluid into the exorcist's system. After a time with no negative reactions, the trickle was increased to a more steady flow, and Assassin leaned back to sit in seiza.

"We should see results soon enough, but she cannot be left unattended," the Servant instructed. "She must be monitored for a minimum of twenty-four hours to ensure that her body does not incur side effects."

Connor figured as much; he was expecting this to be a long night, anyway.

---

Issei flopped onto his bed and flinched as his hands involuntarily twitched and clenched again. They'd been doing it ever since receiving his 'sentence.' Turning his head to look out the window, Issei could see the moon barely peeking around the left hand side of the window frame while the stars gleamed like they did any other night.

This would've been like any other night of searching, too, if it hadn't gone to hell so fast.

Freed Sellzen had come back, and now he was armed with Excalibur fragments. Multiple. As if that psychopath wasn't dangerous enough already, it turned out he was fully capable of wielding the fragments' powers, just like Irina and Xenovia.

The sudden appearance of the bishop to the fight –Valper Galilei, as he heard Kiba hiss– had confirmed the theory put forth at the group's secret meeting on Sunday. Apparently, the twisted fan of Josef Mengele hadn't given up on his insane desire to reforge Excalibur, the same one that led him to experimenting on Kiba and his friends; he just changed benefactors. The way the man had eyed all the fragments there like they were slabs of meat was one of the creepiest expressions Issei had ever seen someone wear.

And Freed… well, his reasons for being there didn't require much debate, and the less said about that guy, the better.

Shortly after the exorcist duo ran off after Freed and the bishop, with Kiba following them, Buchou, Kaichou and their respective Queens showed up. Neither of the two Kings looked very happy, which was somewhat understandable. For their servants to go behind their backs and get involved in a situation that they themselves promised to remain neutral toward, it would be considered a mark on their records.

Saji had been right; Kaichō did beat his ass, with a wooden paddle enhanced by magic! And she had to have whacked him at least twenty times, even after cutting his punishment down due to technicalities. No wonder he was so worried about getting caught. Poor guy wasn't going to sit right for the whole semester.

Issei and Koneko didn't exactly get off easy themselves. Both were lightly tased by Akeno once for each day that they had acted on their own –five in total– which left Issei fighting off muscle spasms in his arms and legs, more than likely for the rest of the night.

That aside, there was still the unanswered question of where Kiba, Irina or Xenovia actually were. Everyone in the ORC had tried to call Kiba multiple times, but the calls went straight to voicemail. Likewise, the girls weren't answering their phones. With no other leads to their locations, Rias, Akeno and Koneko sent out their familiars to look for the trio individually. Given the size of the forest they disappeared into, a search like that would take hours.

All that could be done from there was to wait for someone to either call in or for them to be found. Preferably not by the enemy.

'I just hope they're okay.'

---

As the morning sun began peeking through the living room window, Asia stirred from her place of rest. Slowly, her eyes cracked open, allowing the light to seep in and rouse her further.

She felt something covering her body, surrounding her in warmth. Looking down, she realized it was a wool blanket that had been tucked in around her. It was so nice and cozy – maybe that was why she was dreaming about swimming in tropical waters and searching for manta rays.

She groaned and closed her eyes again, then nestled back into the cushions, ready to go back to looking for the majestic creatures–

Until a sound coming from somewhere in the apartment made her open her eyes again, and her breath hitched as she suddenly remembered where she was. This wasn't her apartment, it was Connor's! And she was on the couch because a badly injured Irina was taking the bed!

The former nun moved the blanket off and sat up, shielding her eyes from the sun. With everything that happened last night, it took a long time for her to relax enough to fall asleep. It was a wonder that she was able to sleep at all.

She looked down at herself and grimaced slightly. While she had lived most of her childhood not putting much importance on her appearance, her convent had instilled in her some very stringent rules regarding personal hygiene. At the moment, her hair was probably a tangled mess, and she would need to brush her teeth again and take a long shower once she got to her apartment.

Further thoughts on the matter were interrupted by the noise again. It sounded like someone whispering, and it was coming from the kitchen. She stood and began moving closer to the source until coming to a stop at the corner. From here, she was able to make out what was being said.

"Remember what I said about overcomplicating solutions?" the deep voice belonging to Caster asked. "With what we know now, you'd have a better time dealing with the problem directly, none of this cloak and dagger crap."

"Yeah, I get that, and if he's not down for it, then we go to Plan B," Connor replied quietly. "It'll just be a bit trickier if it comes to that."

"Not the way I see it."

Asia peeked her head around the corner, and saw Connor leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed and his face set in a hard stare at Caster. The taller man seemed concerned with something, perhaps even frustrated, based on the crease in his brow. Caster glanced up from Connor's gaze to meet Asia's eyes and gave a small nod her way.

"Morning, Little Lady."

The younger magus turned to look at her while his expression softened.

"Hey, Asia. Sorry, did we wake you?"

"No, it's alright. I was…" she paused to yawn and rub her eyes, "…excuse me, I was just waking up. How is Ms. Shidō?"

"Sleeping peacefully, finally," Caster said. "We'll have to wait and see how her eyes are doing once she wakes up again, but the prognosis looks good. And her body's accepting the new blood pretty well, so she's got that going right."

Asia nodded in relief. "Thank goodness…"

"She'll be fine," Connor assured. "And what about you? Are you feeling alright after all… that?"

Asia looked away briefly. She had healed injuries countless times in the Vatican during her tenure. Be they citizens of the city-state, church workers or returning exorcists, she saw to everyone who needed her aid. That was what God had given her Twilight Healing for, after all. Some injuries were minor and some were worse, but in all of them, she'd never seen someone come as close to death as Irina did.

"I… I'll be alright." she finally said. "Ms. Shidō is alive, and that's… that's what matters."

"That's good to hear." Connor smiled before sharing a look with the Heroic Spirit. "Listen, Asia, Caster and I have to go in a few minutes. There are some people we need to get in contact with, so I want you to stay here in the meantime. Go check with Assassin for right now and see if there's anything she needs you to do."

"Okay. Oh, but what about school? What time is it? We need to get ready."

"Take your time with that. I'll tell Sona that we had a maintenance problem at home that kept us from leaving early. We'll just be coming in late today."

"Oh..."

She nodded and left for the bedroom, a bit disconcerted. Not simply because she would be missing out on school, but because of how Connor was going to get into trouble again. She knew that look in his eye; he was planning something that would be potentially dangerous for him, while she would be left to wait and hope for his safe return.

She wished she could do more for him than just heal him when he was hurt, but she didn't know how. Caster's lessons were helpful beyond measure in learning to use her Sacred Gear more effectively, but there had to be something more she could do.

Knocking lightly on the door before entering, she observed the bedroom to be in a far different state than last night. The biggest differences were the IV bag that hung by a long wire from the ceiling and led into Irina's arm, the tranquil look on Irina's sleeping face, and the room itself had been thoroughly cleaned of blood and used medical equipment. Her wandering gaze stopped as her eyes landed on Assassin, who was looking back at her curiously.

Asia wasn't sure what to make of the mechanical-looking woman upon seeing her. Their first meeting wasn't as calm or controlled as when she'd met Caster and, in the heat of last night's events, she didn't think to ask who this new person was. Her focus had been just to ensure that Irina didn't die. She did hear what it was that Connor called the woman, though, and unlike with Caster, she knew exactly what the word 'Assassin' entailed.

They were killers. They took lives, many times in unspeakable ways. Their very existence centered around murder, and they inspired fear at their very mention.

This woman, however, didn't act like a killer at all. Asia didn't even feel a sense of danger from this person, either. If anything, it was almost… calming to be around her.

"Lady Argento? Is something wrong?" The woman's soft voice broke Asia from her thoughts.

"Oh, n-no, nothing's wrong. I'm just checking on her. I-Is she alright?"

Assassin nodded. "Yes, her body is adjusting well to the infused blood, but she needs time to recover from shock."

"Oh, okay." It seemed to Asia that she was saying that a lot lately. "Would it be alright if I just… talked to her, then?"

"Of course." Assassin braced herself with her arms and moved over, still kneeling in seiza.

Asia knelt down beside the woman and smiled gratefully, then looked to Irina. With considerable effort, Asia kept her gaze averted from the blankets around Irina's legs and focused solely on the girl's face. She clasped both of her hands around Irina's left hand and lightly squeezed.

"Ms. Shidō, I… I know that you're scared right now… I am, too…" she paused to take a breath. "But, you're going to be okay. I promise."

She watched Irina's chest rise and fall steadily, the sleeping girl heedless of her encouragement. Maybe it was just wishful thinking that she could hear it while unconscious. Taking another calming breath and wetting her lips, Asia closed her eyes and bowed her head, bringing up Irina's hand to let the fingers touch her forehead.

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…" she spoke slowly, almost meditatively. "He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake… Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil,… for you are with me;… your rod and your staff,… they comfort me…" (1)

While she recited her favorite psalm, Asia felt a peace that surpassed understanding descend upon her, draping over her like a warm coat. This feeling of security was what had helped her persevere through the lowest point of her life mere months ago, before she found a new home. Before she met Connor.

She hoped that Irina, even in her current state, might feel some of that same peace now.

---

At Nomura's, Tobio was busying himself behind the bar with washing and scrubbing sake glasses, taking inventory on the shelves behind him as he worked. The day shift would ordinarily come in around 6:00 A.M. to clean up after the night crew and get the place ready to open by 9:00. This morning, though, it had been tasked with helping to deal with an issue that arose late in the night.

Apparently, toward the end of the previous shift, someone had slipped in the kitchen and nearly gave himself a head-to-toe bath in piping hot chicken broth. Luckily for him, when the worker lost the load, he dumped it all over a bunch of counter tops and some equipment. Now, the smell of souring broth permeated the kitchen, and everything had to be thoroughly cleaned and inspected before the day's service could even start.

The agent could've sworn he saw contrails left by the worker at the speed Oyaji kicked him out. He didn't mind one bit that he was the only one up front at the moment, and not having to deal with the military veteran on a tear.

Tobio stopped when he heard someone loudly knocking on the entryway's frame. He looked up and blinked in surprise at the new arrival that brusquely walked in and sat down at the counter, taking a cursory glance around as he did. The two locked eyes, and Tobio's curiosity turned to suspicion.

"Well, hey there," he greeted, slowly getting back to work. "You're a little early to be popping in for business. Shouldn't you be getting ready for school right now?"

"No point in going if the whole town and everybody in it gets vaporized by a warmongering Cadre."

The curt reply from the magus made Tobio stop his scrubbing and stand still. So that's what it was.

"Yeah, true… if ever a good reason to ditch school existed, there it is." He set down the glass and rag he was holding onto the counter, then thinned his lips against his teeth. "You being here must mean that you know enough already to let us skip to the present. Kokabiel went AWOL yesterday and, considering what's been happening around here, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's thrown discretion to the wind. The whole rest of the Grigori has been put on full lockdown. Nobody leaving or coming in."

"Right, was this before or after one of your top brass managed to slip away?" Connor cynically asked. "And what does your boss plan on doing about it, besides sitting on his hands again?"

"There isn't much he can do, I'm afraid. He can get in touch with a couple of people, maybe call in a favor, but beyond that, his hands are tied. Tensions between the biblical factions are still dangerously high. It's bad enough that Kokabiel finally jumped ship, but sending any other Fallen or other operatives after him may end up setting off his war by proxy. We'd be finishing what he tried to start."

Connor seemed to understand the unspoken meaning: other Fallen sent to fetch Kokabiel could suddenly turn around and try to kill the local Devils out of principle. Scars of war never faded, and grudges always festered. Even centuries of armistice would do nothing to abate the desire to destroy a hated enemy.

"So you, and by extension we, are on our own here…" the magus seethed. "Fuckin' hell, you're all just wishing for an excuse to kill each other, aren't you?!"

"Not everyone, just the ones that have no patience for more sensible solutions."

"Then those must be a rare breed." Connor wiped a hand across his face and sighed heavily. "Well, anyway, I need you to take the day off. I've got an idea for how we can deal with this ourselves –you and me– but we can't discuss it here. I need your full, undivided attention."

Tobio arched an eyebrow and made to reply before Connor cut him off in a low tone.

"And if it helps, I've already put something of a kink into Kokabiel's plan. You know what they say about forestalling your opponent by seizing what he holds dear?"

Tobio stared at the magus for a few seconds, before his eyes widened.

'He couldn't have… could he?'

Tobio's logical sense called it unlikely, but if Connor really had found a way to impede Kokabiel's progress, then this was a lead worth following, at least. The agent turned to the kitchen while reaching behind his back to undo his work apron. He would just have to pay the price for his decision in due time.

"Oyaji! Something's come up at home, I need to go!"

"Yer bailing on me, brat?! Ya just got here!" the crabby old man yelled as he emerged from the back. He took one look at Connor and frowned, stretching the lines on his aged forehead. "Fine, but I'm docking yer pay, and when ya come back, yer scrubbing the bathrooms till ya see yer reflection in the floors and the walls! Now scram!"

Tobio was quick to gather up his things and leave; Oyaji was already angry enough about the accident and the cleanup that he might do something drastic if the agent stuck around for too long.

Once the two left the premises, Connor was the first to speak. "He took that pretty well."

"He who lives directly above his place of work understands that life exists outside its walls," was the agent's equally sarcastic reply. "It's only been in the last year, though, that he even tolerated employees leaving early; he used to throw things at them."

"How gracious of him."

The walk out of town was quiet; uncomfortably so, for anyone other than the unlikely duo. After passing the last building on the outer edge of the business district, Tobio finally turned to the magus.

"Now, when you say 'seize,'" he ventured dubiously, "do you mean to tell me that you–"

Connor gave a very small smile.

"Lemme show you something."

---

…

(1): Psalm 23: 1-4, according to the NRSV bible.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 20: Groundwork

Much like the other visits Tobio paid to the apartment, there was very little ceremony to this occasion. Connor did, however, ordain Assassin to tidy up by destroying what medical equipment was no longer in use, then set Excalibur Nightmare on the living room couch for the guest to clearly see upon entering.

Along the way, Connor kept his mouth shut about what it was he was showing Tobio. This annoyed the agent, but also increased the shock factor of the reveal once he stepped through the door. It was only after presenting Nightmare that Connor gave a vague explanation of the previous night's events to the agent. In doing so, he had to omit any sort of detail surrounding the Servants while glossing over other things like stealing blood and medical supplies from the local hospital.

It was one of the wildest lies he ever told, and it went without saying that Tobio was not convinced in the slightest. Connor could tell that the man wanted to ask more but, knowing that he would only get the runaround from the magus, he resigned to letting the issue drop.

"So, now that you're up to speed, got anything you'd like to share with the class?" Connor said, crossing his arms.

Tobio stared intently at the magus before his lips set into a thin line.

"Kokabiel has been advocating to conclude the Great War for centuries. His previous attempt in 1943 was beaten back by a superhuman of an exorcist, and he lost most of his credibility as a Cadre. Very few outside of the Fallen wanted to associate with him following that, and those that did were often the shady type, like Valper Galilei."

"The heretical priest."

"I think the term 'fanatical' is a better fit. The man sold his research on Excalibur as payment for asylum after the Church kicked him out. Ever since, he's never shut up about the things."

"Okay, so maybe Kokabiel just got tired of his yapping," Connor guessed. "I know I would."

Especially since the Excaliburs were confirmed forgeries.

The night before, while the Servants waited for the new blood to infuse into Irina's system, Connor decided to get some answers about the Excalibur fragment left behind in the chaos. What he discovered almost made him mad for being right. He and Caster had given the Church way too much credit.

The history told all; there was no way in hell that any of the fragments were related to Excalibur, Caliburn, or anything remotely similar to the two. The ugly things were just remnants of some other holy sword imbued with encapsulated light energy to make them more effective against demonic beings. Furthermore, the pieces had been tampered with numerous times over the course of their existences via alchemy to grant them some sort of gimmick. For what exactly, he neither knew nor cared, it made no difference.

Caster had summed it up perfectly with his remark, 'Fake as a politician's promises.'

There was also something of a genetic lock –for lack of a better term– that the false Excaliburs seemed to possess. Without the right person to wield it, the power that each of the fragments held would remain untapped. Going off of this, Connor went back to Irina and conducted another Structural Grasp to verify what he saw in her before.

Sure enough, in the dead center of her chest was a crystalline core of some kind. Likely an apparatus of whatever conditioning the Church put its exorcists through in order to wield the swords. If someone had skill but wasn't naturally compatible with the weapons, then they could be made to be that way.

The list of stupid moves the Church made against itself just kept getting bigger and bigger. Sure, it was all concealed from the public eye, but darkness had a way of deepening in the shadow of established religion. Hard to believe that someone like Asia was capable of being raised there.

Once Irina was stabilized enough to leave her with Assassin, somewhere around two in the morning, Connor left the bedroom to take care of other matters. Asia was already asleep on the couch by that point, so Connor took a spare blanket to cover her. He elected to stay up and take to cleaning the mess around the apartment. After about half an hour of work, he let himself sink into the living room chair and finally breathe easy.

For a short time, he debated with himself about what to do with the new information he now possessed, but the long night caught up to him and he dozed off.

"If only that's what it was about," Tobio said. "When the Church started using Galilei's research and expanding upon it after casting him aside, he took it personally, and I guess Kokabiel must've seen it as an opportunity."

Putting a hand to his chin, Tobio began to pace back and forth across the living room floor.

"So, he goes hunting for the Excaliburs in order to provoke the Church into retaliating against the Grigori and starting another conflict. When the Church doesn't respond the way he wants, he arranges for the fragments in his possession to be brought here and have Galilei fuse them together. At that point, Sellzen –who can actually wield Excalibur– would use the finished product to kill the local governors in Devil-controlled territory. The deaths of two pure-blood heiresses would no doubt spur some of the Underworld's more vindictive Devils into attacking both sides and kick-starting the war that way."

Connor nodded. "Yeah, I can kinda see that, but I'm of the mind that this was his plan from the start. Grab whatever fragments he could, then leak their location to the Church so they'd send somebody to fight one Excalibur with another, make them do half the work for him. He took three to start with, right?"

"Yes; Nightmare, Rapidly and Transparency." Tobio stopped pacing and looked to Excalibur Nightmare. "Galilei's process requires four to create a stable end product, though, so without that final piece they were expecting to acquire, they've reached an impasse."

Connor let out a groan and rolled his head from side to side. The tell-tale *pop-pop-POP* of the gas bubbles shifting between his vertebrae provided a good bit of relief to his sore neck. He couldn't remember the last time he fell asleep sitting up.

"Right, well, now that they've hit a bump in the road, let's just hope Featherhead doesn't say 'Screw it!' and starts killing everyone anyway."

"He's waited centuries for a chance like this; it'll be what he considers his masterpiece, so it's possible he won't settle for less than a perfect arrangement."

'Some masterpiece, it's all coming apart on him. How's that old saying go? 'Don't put all your eggs into one basket?''

Caster's assessment lined up with Connor's thoughts. The key word in Tobio's theory was 'possible.' For all of Kokabiel's power and supposed age, he made a lot of mistakes in the setup of this little escapade. The whole plan –if their suppositions were correct– was a massive, desperate gambit that depended on the Excaliburs being his smoking gun. By this point, he had to be aware of the missing fragment, and betting against a warmonger's ego now that he was so close to his goal was like treading on thin ice. Sooner than later, whatever stockpiled patience the man had would give out.

Still, however small, Connor's meddling had bought a little bit of time.

"Well, if he's really going be this inflexible with his plan, then maybe he can be pushed into moving the way we want him to move. If not him, then at least Sellzen and Galilei."

"Did you have something in mind?" Tobio asked.

"To be clear, my first idea was to booby-trap Nightmare and get it back to Galilei so that it would kill him in the middle of whatever process he was attempting. Problem with that is, with only him, Kokabiel and Sellzen working together on this, sneaking the thing back without one of them suspecting foul play isn't going to work. As it stands, our options are limited, except to find Xenovia and keep her Excalibur out of Kokabiel's reach as well."

"I suppose," the agent hummed, "but hardball religious types like her are stubborn. If your idea is for her to just hide, do you think she'll go along with it?"

"There's a good chance I can convince her, once she knows that Irina and one other Excalibur are safe. She already accepted aid from me once, and she willingly came to an agreement with the Devils –beings that she would normally just kill– to look for the stolen fragments, so she is capable of finding compromise."

Tobio gave a dry chuckle. "This isn't exactly the same as treating someone to dinner. But, if you think you've got her figured out, then I'll defer to your judgment. Where should we start?"

"That, I don't know. We would need Irina to tell us of any rendezvous points that she and Xenovia agreed upon before all this happened. If they had any." Connor started to turn and walk for the kitchen, but stopped as he remembered something. "Then again, Irina is a former resident of Kuoh; she was talking to herself on Sunday about how 'this' and 'that' were all still here. So if there is somewhere that Xenovia would've gone–"

"Then it could be a place that Shidō remembers from way back when?" Tobio finished, to which Connor gave an affirmative point. "That's still quite a stretch. This town has a number of places that are many decades old. We'd just be searching for a needle in a slightly smaller haystack."

"Sure, but even moving just one step ahead of Kokabiel is a step in the right direction, don't you think?"

Clicking his tongue, Tobio tilted his head one way and back. "Alright. Jin and I will check around town for a bit, start looking in places that have been around for at least fifteen years. What about you?"

"I'll start with what I know: the academy. If Kiba hasn't already lost his pursuers and found his way back, Gremory and her peerage should still be out looking for him. If not, then maybe he and–"

Just then, the bedroom door flung open, cutting the discussion short. Asia was standing at the threshold with a glint of joy in her eyes.

"Connor! Mr. Ikuse!"

"What? What's wrong?" the agent asked.

"Nothing! I think Ms. Shidō is waking up!"

---

As her mind came back to the waking world, the first thing she became aware of was the rhythmic throbbing in her head.

*BOM-Bom, BOM-Bom, BOM-Bom, BOM-Bom*

It felt like a giant drum on the inside of her ears banging to the tune of her own heartbeat. Every successive pulse made her flinch a little bit more. A hoarse groan escaped her lips while her hand reached up to hold her head.

That was the intent, at least. To her heightening discomfort and slight worry, she found that her arm could barely move. It wasn't restrained by anything, but it simply would not budge more than a few centimeters.

Despite the blood pounding in her ears, she could hear someone talking, though it was too muffled to really make out what was being said. After a few seconds, the intensity fell off, and a soft voice reached her much more clearly.

"Ms. Shidō, can you hear me?"

She groaned and tried to sit up, but it was as if every muscle in her body had suddenly tightened all at once. Any attempt at movement was met with fierce resistance and a throbbing far worse than the one in her skull.

"Oh, no, stay still, please," the voice pleaded, placing a hand on Irina's chest.

"W… Who…" she mumbled groggily. The images slowly came back to her like they were moving through a wall of fog. The explosion, the forest, the…

Irina's eyes fluttered open, adjusting slowly to the light, and glanced around for the person attending her. Upon finding them, she stared and blinked at the green eyes looking back at her for a moment before she recognized the owner.

"Asia?"

"Yes, Ms. Shidō," the golden blonde nodded. "I'm so glad you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Ugh… I feel like I've run a million miles in a tenth of a second. My mouth is dry and everything else is stiff." Irina groaned, trying in vain to wet her lips.

"Here, have some water."

Irina found herself being propped up by the exiled nun and offered a tall glass of the life-giving fluid. Slowly, her caregiver tipped the glass on her bottom lip, allowing the water to easily trickle inside. Feeling her mouth, tongue and throat all regain sensation was incredible, and her renewed sense of taste made this the most delicious water she could ever remember drinking.

Asia continued her administering until the glass was halfway emptied, then adjusted the pillow under the exorcist's head and let her back down.

With her thirst temporarily slaked, Irina's violet eyes surveyed her surroundings. To her confusion, she didn't see the sterile white roofing and walls typical of a hospital or some other medical facility. Instead, she found what appeared to be a normal bedroom with tatami flooring, off-white wall panels held by wooden framing and a balcony access that let morning sunlight through.

Only while looking around did she finally notice the tube running from her left arm and leading to a bag hanging from the ceiling. She was hooked up to an IV, she realized.

"Did you do this?" she asked, moving her opposite arm to point.

"No, it was… a friend, that did that. I had to heal your injuries when you were brought in."

"Brought where, exactly?" She took another glance around. "Where are we?"

"This is my apartment," another voice announced itself from the doorway. "It was the safest place to bring you where your wounds could be treated."

Turning her head to the best of her current ability, she looked and saw yet another face that she had not expected to meet again after Sunday.

"Mr. Lochlainn?"

"Good morning to you, too," the foreign man replied. "I thought it wouldn't be another half day or so before you woke up. I'm honestly surprised."

Connor walked into the room, leaving the door open slightly. Her eyes widened upon recognizing the large object he carried in his right hand.

"I-… Is that Excalibur Nightmare?!"

"Yep," Connor answered curtly, reversing his grip on the weapon to stand it on its tip.

"How? How did you…" Her eyes suddenly widened further. "Sellzen! Th– the Excaliburs! Where's Mimic?! Where's Xenovia?! Did he– " The remainder of her questions dissolved into a fit of coughs.

Connor set the sword to lean in a corner of the room and knelt down beside Asia.

"Take it easy. You lost a lot of blood last night and went into shock. Your body still hasn't fully recovered from the transfusion, so you really shouldn't be moving around right now."

"T- Transfusion?! W- Y-you gave me the right type, right? I'm B-positive, I can't tak- mmph!" Her worried chatter was interrupted this time by Connor placing a finger on her lips.

"We got you the universal stuff, it's fine. Deep breaths, through the nose, out the mouth."

The young exorcist blinked several times and shrunk in on herself slightly. Well, this was embarrassing. The first time a boy touches her face since she hit puberty and it was just to stop her from talking. Fighting down her blush, Irina closed her eyes and did as instructed. After several seconds of this, Connor removed his hand and sat back up straight.

"Now look, I know you have a lot of questions, but time is of the essence, so I'll make it brief. For simplicity's sake, just think of me as a magician. I know everything about the whole situation here; Kokabiel, the Excaliburs, Valper Galilei's twisted obsession, everything. As far as I'm aware, Xenovia and Kiba are still missing from last night, so there's a chance to find them before your enemy does, but that's where I need you to help me. Did you and your partner designate a place in Kuoh to meet up if you ever got separated?"

Irina hadn't considered her answer for long when she felt something warm and… oddly familiar envelop her right hand. Looking down, she saw that Asia had taken her hand within both of her own. The exiled nun didn't say anything, but the pleading look in her eyes said enough. He would not have saved her if he wasn't a good person, otherwise Asia wouldn't vouch for him.

Looking to Connor again, she decided to place her own trust in him. It wasn't like she could do anything else to help Xenovia right now, anyway.

"Yeah, we did. There's a little shrine dedicated to Inari on the southern edge of the town. My friend Issei and I went exploring around there when we were… four, I think, and there were a couple of sheds behind it. We made one of them our 'secret hideout.' Don't know if any of our stuff is still inside, but…"

"And Xenovia's there?"

"She should be. It's the only shrine near Kuoh, so it's not hard to miss."

"Alright. Asia, keep your phone on hand. I'll call after a while," Connor said, standing up and moving back to the door.

"Okay," the nun responded immediately.

"Where are you going?" Irina asked.

"To find your partner, and let her know that you're alright."

Connor closed the door behind him, leaving Irina rather uneasy. For one thing, how was he planning to break the news to Xenovia? And secondly, would she even listen to him, or swing first and ask questions later like she usually did?

She felt her hand being squeezed, and looked to see Asia bearing a calming smile.

"I know, but it'll be okay. Connor has his… special way of fixing things."

---

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Connor turned to look at Tobio. The agent was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he listened in on the conversation.

"Did you get that?" the magus asked quietly.

Tobio nodded. "Yeah, I know the place. The shrine was constructed at the start of the Taishō period, and Kuoh itself was built as its neighboring town. I'm assuming you want to go?"

"Not yet. Got a few things to do here and then run an errand first."

"Alright, I'll take a quick look around, then wait for you." With nothing more to say on the matter, Tobio made his exit by way of another shadow portal.

The moment the agent was gone, Connor turned and inscribed into the air the runic array for one of the first proper Bounded Fields that Caster taught him: Auditory Isolation. A far more cost effective method than soundproofing every single wall.

'Dagaz, Ansuz, Uruz, Fehu, Isa.'

Once the Field was confirmed erected and fit to the room, he gave the clear for the Heroic Spirits to physically manifest again, Caster to his left and Assassin to his right.

"Lord Ikuse seems quite confident in Kokabiel's behavior pattern," Assassin stoically noted.

"Yeah," Connor grunted. "Too bad that confidence isn't mutual."

"So, what's the new plan?" Caster asked.

"Not really new, so much as working from a different angle. Like I told him, staying that one step ahead of the enemy is the crucial part." Connor turned to face his first Servant. "Every second we can cause Kokabiel's group to waste is another second that gets added to our collective clock. So I'm thinking that we need to employ a different brand of subterfuge."

The druid's red eyes sparkled in curiosity.

Connor gave a rough outline of his plan to counter Kokabiel's attack. Caster played the Devil's advocate throughout, poking holes and pitching alternatives while Assassin remained mostly quiet, only offering suggestions as she deemed necessary.

With the plan reviewed and revised, the Servants went their separate ways in spirit form. Meanwhile, Connor headed for the nearest konbini to pick up what he needed for his part. (1)

Assassin's first report from her position at the academy came within the first two minutes into his journey. Kiba had evidently not made it home during the night, which meant he was either dead or still with Xenovia.

Connor departed the store with a brown paper bag in hand and headed south, once again using Raidho to cover the large distance and make up for time. He arrived at the foot of the hill leading to the shrine within a few minutes, choosing to ascend the hill in normal fashion until reaching the top.

This place of tribute and remembrance to Inari was immaculately well kept, for its old age. All of the structural portions had been blessed with a fresh coat of white paint and trimmed in crimson red. Zigzag paper streamers and tassels of thick ceremonial rope hung from all sides of the pagoda-styled roofline in perfectly even spaces; shide and shimenawa, as he recalled their respective official names. The broad steps leading to the small interior were of polished white marble, further adding to the building's very regal appearance.

The same level of cleanliness, however, could not be said of the caretaker's sheds out behind the shrine, which had both obviously seen better days. Certainly, all of this caretaker's efforts were focused on the shrine itself.

The only thing missing from all of this was Tobio.

Connor glanced around, eyes sweeping over the nearby cemetery in the process. Encompassing about a half acre of wooded land with some steep ravines and old growth conifers in the mix, this cemetery featured several rows of traditional family monoliths. Among these monoliths to the departed, he recognized a human head of black hair. Venturing closer, he made out the older man kneeling in front of a large traditional gravestone, with head bowed, eyes closed and hands clasped together in prayer.

The magus looked around further, wondering who it was that the agent was putting on this act for.

Coming up beside Tobio, he set down the bag and mimicked the agent's posture, though he remained standing. Several seconds passed before either of the two spoke.

"I was beginning to worry that you'd forgotten." Tobio remarked, solid as the stone before him.

"Sorry. You know how it is with housework; one thing turns into ten." Connor responded, remaining likewise motionless. "Who're we praying for?"

"I don't know. I just picked a random grave because I was being watched, and we still are. Stay facing forward. There's a hawk in the tree to my 8 o'clock, and Jin says it smells like a Devil. Must be a contracted familiar."

"Probably Kiba's, if that's the case," Connor surmised. "He might still be with Xenovia, then, so that's a good sign. Did Jin go looking for them?"

"He says the shrine's completely empty, and the caretaker's sheds out back have been overrun with vines, but one of them looks like it's been visited recently. Some of the vegetation there has been cut away, and only in the last few hours. I'm guessing that's where they're hiding. How do you want to approach this?"

"You keep praying, I'll talk to them myself."

"Alone? Are you sure?" Tobio turned his head slightly toward the magus.

"They're tired, hungry and backed into a corner. If we go together, it'll spook them into attacking. I go alone, and they'll be cautious but more liable to listen. Probably. Hopefully." Connor nudged the bag with his foot to make it crinkle. "I went and got a little extra incentive for them to hear me out, just in case."

The right corner of Tobio's lips perked up. "So that was your errand. You dog…"

"I don't wanna hear that from you." Connor reciprocated the agent's snide smile with one of his own. Breaking from his prayer pose, he picked up the bag with one hand and pat Tobio's shoulder with his other –leaving a small gift for the agent– before walking back in the direction of the shrine.

Taking his phone out from his back pocket, Connor stopped his walk after a few meters and looked up to the trees, locking eyes with Tobio's watcher after a bit of searching. It was a sparrowhawk, or at least appeared the part, bearing slate black wings and crown coupled with whitish underbelly and dull red barring. A good disguise for a familiar, especially since these hawks were back in Japan for the coming summer.

The two stared at one another until the hawk took off from its perch and flew out of sight over the treetops.

Continuing on his way, Connor arrived at the two sheds and approached the one farthest from the shrine. While both were in similar manner of disarray –with hop and wisteria vines all but consuming the structures– some of the foliage on the one had been hastily removed to create just barely enough space for the sliding doors. The wooden flooring creaked as he ascended the steps and stopped at the entryway.

"Xenovia, this is Connor," the magus announced. "I know you're here. Irina told me where to find you."

He waited for a response of some kind, but heard nothing.

"Xenovia," he continued, "do you remember the verse that Asia quoted on Sunday? Romans chapter twelve, verse thirteen: 'Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.' She was prepared to open up her apartment to you and Irina so you'd have–"

The shed door suddenly flew open, revealing Xenovia who reached forward and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Without a word, she pulled him inside and the door slid shut behind him. She then shoved him against the opposite wall and leveled her Excalibur at him, the central tip of its massive blade pointed directly at his throat.

"Where is Irina?!" the exorcist demanded. Her combat uniform was as bedraggled as Irina's had been, and the fatigue in her eyes compounded the tone of her voice. Despite this, she held up the gargantuan weapon as easily as one wielded a toy sword.

The magus looked to see Kiba approach from beside the door. In the shed's dim lighting, he could make out a blade in the Knight's hand as well, though much smaller and more streamlined than Xenovia's, and equally ready to strike at the first sign of hostility.

"She's safe," Connor replied calmly, despite the situation.

"Where?"

Instead of moving to loosen her grip on his collar, he slowly raised both hands, with his right aimed toward the Gremory Knight, palm up and open with the paper bag hanging past his fingers. Kiba warily took the bag and inspected the contents before looking back up to him in confusion.

"It's no gourmet cuisine, but I figured you guys needed the pick-me-up."

"Where is she?!" Xenovia repeated, shaking him slightly.

Connor turned his now open hand to where his index finger could point at the phone in his opposite hand.

"Let me call her and I'll show you."

---

Kiba studied Lochlainn intently, trying to find any sort of deceit in his offer.

The last few hours had been nothing short of a torturous ordeal for the unlikely duo. They and Irina were so focused on giving chase to Galilei and Sellzen that they never saw Kokabiel until the Cadre began attacking. There was barely any time to think after the first explosion, before the bombardment of light spears began.

Kiba had no way of knowing until later just how long they were chased through the woods. Every second felt like an hour in his mind. It was only thanks to Kokabiel getting distracted by something behind him and stopping his pursuit of the two that they even managed to escape. Even then, Kiba almost had to drag Xenovia away from the forest because she wanted to go back for Irina.

Despite his resentment of the Church and all it represented, he had come to know the two exorcists better over the course of a week. Their words about their faith in God rang hollow in his ears, but their feelings about Galilei and the injustice of his seemingly light punishment resonated with his own. In that sense, he could find common ground with them. Not kinship by any stretch, but at least a small sense of camaraderie.

Which made leaving Irina all the more difficult of a choice.

After several different stops to ensure they weren't being followed, the two found their way to the shrine at Xenovia's behest. Undoubtedly, the enemy was still out looking for them, and they had no possible chance against him, so hiding was their only option. Taking shelter in the least run down of the sheds, they waited for Irina to arrive.

Minutes turned to hours, and as the night dragged on for what felt like days, Xenovia became more anxious, her partner's continuing absence chipping away at her endurance. By morning, she was almost inconsolable, and Kiba didn't feel as if he could blame her. Without so much as a call from Irina, the two were left to fear that the worst had occurred.

Just as they were considering going back out to at least try to look for Irina, who should show up at the door but Connor Lochlainn, Kuoh's enigmatic transfer student.

Prior to the Rating Game with Riser, Rias had warned her servants to be wary around the older boy. From her description of him, Lochlainn was a magic practitioner that differed from the mundane magician. Based on the rumors about him and the few times Kiba had interacted with him, it was clear that the 'magus' highly valued his independence and preferred to mind his own affairs. Having been offered reincarnation by both heiresses only to turn them down cemented that notion.

Now here he was, offering not only food and drink, but communication with Irina? It was almost too good to be true.

But then again… if this was real…

The exorcist glanced back to him in silent petition. Should they allow this?

His only reply was a slight inclination of his head.

Turning to face Lochlainn again, Xenovia lowered Excalibur Destruction slightly and made her position clear.

"Try anything stupid, and you're dead."

"That's fair, but I need to secure this location first. Will you let me?"

Xenovia scowled. "Secure? How do we know you won't just trap us in here?"

"Because if I wanted to do that, I wouldn't have let you know I was coming."

After a moment of consideration, she spun the older boy around, gripping his right shoulder now, and gave a shove. Keeping his hands raised, Lochlainn walked slowly to the northern corner of the shed. Xenovia moved with him, holding the sword level to the center of his spine.

Lochlainn stopped and extended his right hand toward the wall, touching it with his index finger. He then started moving it about in odd directions, and a glowing trail following his movements. It was as if he was drawing something, or rather burning it, into the wall. When he lifted his finger, the glow remained, forming a symbol.

'Are those… Norse runes?' Kiba wondered. He had never seen them in use before.

Lochlainn then pointed with that same hand, indicating to Xenovia where he wanted to go next.

One by one, he walked to all the other corners of the shed, drawing another rune for each as he went. After doing this, he went back to the center of the shed, then drew five more glowing runes in the air before himself. As he finished the last one, the air inside the shed suddenly felt lighter. Slightly cooler, even.

"Okay, now we can speak freely."

"What was that?" Kiba asked.

"A basic double-layered Bounded Field. It'll block any sound from being heard directly outside here and give a very unsettling feeling to anyone that so much as looks at it. Being so close to a shrine and a cemetery, the common thought will be that the place is haunted. That change in air pressure you felt is normal, it just means the field's working."

"You're a magician," Xenovia said.

"Of sorts. Go ahead and check it, if you want. The field won't stop you from leaving."

The exorcist turned to Kiba and motioned to the door with her head. She had the magus secure; he wasn't going anywhere.

Moving to the entrance again, Kiba opened it with no issue, peeked his head out and looked around. Kiba squinted at the drastic change in lighting, but regained focus quickly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first, but the moment his eyes landed on a section of the outside wall, he gasped as an unimaginable chill ran up his back. It was worse than walking into a freezer, the sensation was in his very bones instantly!

Slamming the door shut, he almost let out a curse instead of a ragged breath. And then, just as swiftly as it came, the horrible feeling of dread was gone.

"What happened?" Xenovia asked.

"I…" He could hardly find the words. Even Stray Devils didn't scare him to such a primal extent. "I-I just looked outside for no more than a second! It felt like–"

"Like every part of your body was screaming at you to get the hell away from here?" Connor knowingly finished for him. "The field may not keep you here, but the reptilian part of your brain that dictates survival instincts is another story. The feeling gets worse the closer you are, and I've found that it works extremely well in keeping away bugs and rodents."

Kiba put a hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat come under control again.

"Okay… but, wait, you said that your 'field' also blocks sound? How are you supposed to call Shidō in that case?"

"The field blocks sound waves in the air, but it doesn't stop cellular data from being transmitted over air waves, so you can still make calls from inside. I've done it before," the magus explained.

Xenovia then pulled him around to face them again and released her grip on his shoulder.

"Then show us."

Lochlainn shifted and smoothed out his shirt. Keeping the phone screen angled to where Kiba and Xenovia could clearly see it, he pressed the call button. Several anxious seconds later…

"Hello?" someone answered. Wasn't that…

"Asia, put it on speaker, please," Connor requested.

"Argento?" Xenovia mumbled, before a shuffling noise came through the line and stopped. She looked to Lochlainn, who just nodded. Cautiously, Xenovia asked, "Irina, are you there?"

"Yeah, Xe, I'm here."

Kiba quietly sighed with relief, then heard Xenovia do the same. Letting out a breath she must not have known she was holding, the bluenette relaxed her sword arm and turned to the ceiling, uttering silent thanks to God.

"Xe?"

"Yes, I'm fine, a-are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm… well, I'm mostly fine," Irina corrected. "I'm light-headed, stiff everywhere, there's an IV in my arm, and I've got no desire to get out of bed. Is Kiba with you, too?"

"Right here, Shidō. Glad to hear your voice again. What happened last night? We couldn't find you after that first explosion, and…" Kiba was almost too ashamed to admit that he had left an ally behind, seemingly for dead.

"I don't really know what happened at first, but… Freed Sellzen attacked me when we got separated. He's got Excalibur Mimic now."

"Dammit!" the Knight snarled, turning away and running a hand through his hair. His mentor would truly be disgusted with him, and not just with breaking his oath to Rias by chasing a personal vendetta. In a moment of panic, he left somebody behind, and now that enemy was stronger thanks to his weakness! He had no right to call himself a Devil of Gremory!

"But it's okay! Asia fixed me up and Sellzen doesn't have Nightmare anymore!" Irina hurriedly added. "Connor stole it from him when he rescued me."

Kiba's head snapped back toward the phone, then to the magus holding it, as did Xenovia's.

"You have Nightmare?"

Lochlainn held up a finger. "One thing at a time. Phone call first."

"Irina, are you sure it's really Nightmare?" Xenovia asked.

"Yeah, Asia gave it to me just a few minutes ago to let me check. It's totally real!"

This time, the looks exchanged between Kiba and Xenovia were of bewilderment.

"Xe, I don't know how Connor did it, but if he hadn't intervened, Sellzen would've killed me last night. He had no reason to save me if he could've just taken Nightmare, but he did it anyway, just like he and Asia helped us earlier. We can trust him."

Kiba looked to the magus again, now understanding why he was here. He possessed something that they wanted, but likewise did they have something he desired. He had come to bargain information for their cooperation.

To his credit, it didn't sound as if Lochlainn was keeping Shidō prisoner, especially if she truly was just handed a weapon. In addition, Argento was with her, and Kiba knew from having met her what made Issei so fascinated with the exiled nun; there wasn't a distrustful bone in the girl's body.

The magus may have had his own goals by interfering, but he saved Irina and helped them all. In Kiba's eyes, that was at least worth the benefit of the doubt. They weren't in a position to be picky about who was offering aid.

He placed a hand on Xenovia's shoulder, urging her to relax. Xenovia said nothing at first; the exorcist remained silent for a few seconds, then stepped back, keeping her grip on Excalibur Destruction steady.

"Just answer this first: what do you have to gain from this? Helping us?"

"Well, the way I see it, World War I is about to get a modern remake, and I really don't fancy a front-row seat to that."

His obscure answer drew confused stares from the two. "What?"

"Look, I'm a selfish prick that believes war is an occasional necessity but this isn't one of those times," he explained. "Even if it was, I don't want a war on my doorstep any more than the next guy."

"Hold on, what do you mean by World War I?" Kiba asked, taking one step forward. "And what about your friend in the cemetery? There's no possible way the two of you just happened to meet there by coincidence. He's involved in this, too, isn't he?"

"You're right, it wasn't coincidence, but I can assure you he is not with the enemy. In fact, it's because of him that I have an idea of Kokabiel's goal, which leads directly back to the answer for your first question."

"And what's that?"

"The assassinations of Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri. The Excalibur fragments Kokabiel stole weeks ago were just the first step of his plan; he baited the Church into sending the other pieces right to him while he smuggled specialists into Kuoh to complete the next stage. By fusing the fragments and killing pure-blood Devils with them, he's hoping to provoke the Devil Faction into retaliating against both the Church and the Grigori, thereby reigniting the Great War."

Kiba glanced down to the floor, trying to wrap his head around what he had just been told. Killing Rias and Sona? Restarting the war? Suddenly, this backwards scheme began to make some manner of sense.

Kokabiel had been around a long time, so he must have known exactly what buttons to push with the Church and how to push them. If Lochlainn was correct, then it was entirely possible that Kokabiel purposefully left Excalibur Destruction alone; perhaps he wanted them to think that, with it still in their hands, they could destroy the stolen ones easily. Between Galilei and Sellzen, Kokabiel could make actual use of the swords. And if whatever else the Church threw at him was just a bonus, that would mean–

"You're kidding! So by coming to Kuoh, we basically helped him with that?!" Irina bawked over the phone, having come to a similar conclusion.

Xenovia's free hand went to her forehead, her fingers curling as if to claw at herself in frustration. "I don't believe this!"

"You can believe it, and you can also believe that Kokabiel's committing everything to this attack," Connor asserted. "He'll either succeed, or die trying and take as many as he can with him. In which case, he could still win in the aftermath and become a martyr. He did his homework, but he didn't plan for all possible variables, like a third party running interference. You work with me on this, and we can cut his support out from under him. He will be all alone with no way forward or out."

…

…

"This… this is a lot to take in, Mr. Lochlainn," Kiba confessed while Xenovia ran her hand down her face. "But if you have a plan, then we can at least hear you out."

"What will you do with Nightmare?" Xenovia asked.

"That thing? Oh, I've got no use for it at all," Lochlainn said, waving his hand in disinterest. "You're welcome to take it back or do whatever, but probably not while Sellzen's still out and about."

"And you're sure that he won't find it or Irina?"

"Positive. They're under stronger security than we are now."

"Asia's pretty confident of that, too, Xe," Irina chimed in. "I think we should give it a shot."

Xenovia looked from him to the phone and back, then sighed and fully relaxed her sword arm.

"Alright… Irina, just focus on resting for now. We'll take care of this, and I'll come get you later."

"Uh, okay. Just… don't do anything that I wouldn't do, alright?"

"There are so many stupid things you've done that I would love to mention as examples," the bluenette said with a slight smile. "But, I'll spare you the indignity."

"Thanks. I'll see you soon… God be with you guys."

"And may He safeguard you as well."

Taking that as his signal, the magus disconnected and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"So, what exactly do you want from us, Mr. Lochlainn?"

"I want to set an ambush for Kokabiel, but for it to work, I need both of you to stay hidden for now. I made sure that I wasn't followed when I came here, so they still don't know where you are. Take the time to rest, you're gonna need it."

Xenovia blinked, then her lips turned into a frown. "That's it? You just want us to… keep hiding? Like we haven't been doing enough of that already?"

"Until the trap is ready to be sprung," Lochlainn sternly replied. "There are two factors ultimately necessary to win any sort of engagement: information and timing. I've got the information bit covered, but if we don't time this right, we lose the element of surprise and consequently, could lose the battle."

Xenovia, despite her frustration, decided to accept the rationale, though her eyes remained hardened.

"Kiba, while you're here, I need you to send a message to Rias and tell her everything you've heard here. I'll be sending my own message to Sona at the same time to fill her in on the situation."

"Will you be at the Academy, then?" he asked.

"Very briefly. I've still got things to take care of at my apartment, so I'll be in and out quickly. You know Old Spooky, that dead tree out behind the soccer field?" Kiba nodded. "Okay, I'll put my letter in the trunk as a dead drop. Have your familiar pick it up, then deliver them both to Rias and Sona. You're a verified source to both of them, so this information has to be brought to their attention by you."

Kiba nodded again, more slowly. This way, when the heiresses got matching messages from someone that both could trust and bore the boys' respective signatures, they would know what they were reading was genuine.

"And, as an added measure."

Lochlainn turned to the wall behind him and drew another glowing symbol, this one being shaped like two tall triangles standing on one leg and meeting each other at the tip.

"When Kokabiel makes his move, I'll signal this rune here to light up like Las Vegas at Christmastime –which is to say, in bright, obnoxious patterns. Long red flashes mean 'get ready,' short green blinks mean 'haul ass to the academy.' When you get there, eliminate Galilei; he's the weak link in Kokabiel's plan. Without him, there's no chance of fusing the Excalibur fragments and Sellzen is left with nothing but individual pieces."

"On the subject of Sellzen, what's your plan with him?" Xenovia interjected. "Neither he nor Kokabiel are going to leave Galilei defenseless, and he can still use the fragments to their full extent."

"I know, and I've got somebody else in mind to deal with him. They'll keep Sellzen off your back while you put an end to the fat bastard. Safest bet is to just kill him, don't bother capturing him or whatever."

"Fine by me," Kiba agreed. "And Kokabiel?"

"That'll depend on how Rias and Sona try to handle this from their side. I know that Sona has family at the top of the food chain, but I don't know much about Rias."

"Rias Gremory's older brother holds the title of Lucifer, and is one of the Four Demon Kings that govern the Devils' side of the Underworld." Xenovia replied.

"They both ha– " Connor began incredulously, then slapped both hands against his legs and chuckled. "You can't write this. Okay, Kiba, with whatever else you tell her, you need to strongly advise Rias to call her brother. "

"I was going to do so, anyway. If anyone can stop Kokabiel dead in his tracks, it's Buchō's brother."

"Good, then we can leave that to them if they get here fast enough." Looking between the two, Connor nodded in certitude. "Okay, that should be all for now. We'll adjust as need be if something changes, but eliminating Galilei will remain your objective. Keep an eye on that light, and run like hell when it's time. I'll see you there."

Connor returned to the door, sliding it open and allowing sunlight to cascade inside once more.

"Mr. Lochlainn," Kiba said, making the magus turn to him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for anything until we know for sure that it's over. After all, a beheaded snake can still wriggle and bite." With that, he stepped through and slid the door closed again. The creaking floor and fading footsteps signaled his departure, leaving them alone in their sanctuary.

The two remained in silence for several seconds, wondering if any of that had really just happened. Turning to his interim colleague, Kiba gauged her to be in as deep in thought as him.

"What do you think?"

The bluenette looked down. "I think that God truly works in mysterious ways. I want to say that it's too convenient… but you heard the same thing that I did, and right now, I don't see another way of stopping Kokabiel before it's too late. If there is a chance that this plan will work, I would rather not waste it."

Kiba agreed. There was no point in grasping for straws when they were being offered a rope.

"What was in the bag?"

"Hm? Oh, right." He had almost forgotten about what Lochlainn brought them.

Taking the paper bag off the floor where he'd left it, Kiba began extracting its contents; a pair of store-bought onigiri, two premade bento boxes, bottled water and some simple first-aid supplies. There was even a pen and notepad, evidently for Kiba's use.

'I suppose it pays to be thorough,' he silently mused.

Taking the pen and pad, he sat down and began writing. He needed to get his message sent to Rias as soon as possible, and start with making amends for his desertion.

"You go ahead and eat," he said. "I have to take care of this first."

Xenovia did just that, taking one of the onigiri and returning to the corner she had claimed from the moment the two found this place. She set Excalibur Destruction down, then took a seat and leaned her head back against the wall, mouthing another silent prayer. Making the sign of the cross as she finished, she took her first bite of rice, letting out a contented exhale as she chewed.

Kiba couldn't resist the urge to wet his lips.

---

At Kuoh Academy, tension hung in the air of the Student Council office like a thick fog.

Rias had just teleported into the office, and the look in her eye told Sona that she had not gotten much sleep. Her childhood friend and rival set herself in one of the cushioned chairs facing the desk, as did her Queen in the other.

After the long 'talk' with Saji about his recent actions, Sona and Tsubaki had a grasp of the situation. Freed Sellzen, the rogue exorcist that ambushed Rias' peerage not long ago, had once more infiltrated Kuoh. This time, however, he had the missing fragments of the holy sword Excalibur in his possession. Add to that, he had also come with a priest that Kiba had a history with. Kiba and the exorcists then took off after the Church fugitives into the night, and no one had heard anything since.

Sona made eye contact with the Gremory heiress and slightly raised her eyebrows to ask the unspoken question.

'Anything?'

Rias shook her head. "We've looked in all the places in Kuoh that Kiba would go in case of an emergency, but there's been no sign of him or the exorcists."

"I'm sure that he's fine, Lady Gremory," Tsubaki calmly stated, setting down a tray of freshly brewed tea. "Kiba is smart, he'll find a way."

"And I'm sure that you would be the one most comforted by his call, Fukukaichō~" Akeno tittered, earning an indignant frown and blush from the dark-haired beauty.

"Akeno, now is not the time for that," Rias reprimanded her Queen.

"Fufu~ Apologies, Buchō. Just trying to lighten the mood. Sorry, Tsubaki."

"We're all in agreement about Kiba, Tsubaki, but it doesn't ease my worry as his King. Ever since those girls showed up, he's lost focus. He had to be bailed out during a Stray Devil hunt, and even the academy teachers and his clients are telling me that his attention has been anywhere but there."

Rias ran a hand through her long locks and sighed.

"I knew I should've said something to him sooner, try to talk with him about it. But how do you talk about that to someone that doesn't want–"

In the midst of her question, a loud thumping suddenly came from the window. All four Devils turned to look at the noise, and the sight of a small hawk awkwardly perched on the window sill greeted them. The little raptor was flapping and beating its wings against the glass, causing quite the ruckus as if doing its best to knock.

"What in the world?!" Sona began, only for Rias to launch herself from her seat.

"Wait, wait! That's Kiba's familiar, Hayate!" the redhead exclaimed, darting for the window.

"That means Kiba's alright! Thank goodness," Akeno exhaled in relief, standing from her seat as well. "But, what's he got?"

Indeed, in its beak was what appeared to be a folded slip of paper, which was slightly crumpled due to the beak's sharp curvature.

Rias opened the window and allowed the familiar to poke its head inside and drop the paper into her hands. She then straightened it out and pulled her hands apart to reveal that there were two separate pieces. The Gremory heiress examined one of them briefly, then looked to the other, her shoulders tensing by the second.

"Sona, this is a far bigger problem than we thought."

"What do you mean?" the Sitri scion asked, joining her friend.

Rias thrust one of the notes to her fellow King. "Read this one, it's for you."

Taking the paper from her friend, Sona scanned it line by line at a tremendous speed. The more she read, the more her brow furrowed, and by the time she reached the sender's name, she had dropped her head to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I knew it…" she grumbled. "I swear, this man…"

"Kaichō?"

Tsubaki approached with concern, but Sona just passed the letter to her. The Sitri heiress kept her head hung until her Queen spoke again.

"Lochlainn? He found them?"

"And Shidō as well, apparently." Akeno held up the other note and smiled. "My, oh my~ It seems the Chameleon of Kuoh has been causing trouble for Kuoh's newest troublemakers. How very naughty~"

"But advantageous for us." Sona shook her head and adjusted her glasses. "Now we know what this is all about; if Kokabiel really is trying to restart the war, then we need to take whatever steps necessary to make sure he fails. I'm calling an emergency meeting. Tsubaki, contact the headmaster and tell him to dismiss classes for the day. We must evacuate the academy before Kokabiel makes his move."

Walking back to her desk, Sona picked up the phone set's receiver and pressed a button that opened a school-wide intercom.

"Student Council and Occult Research Club members, report to the Council office, please. Student Council and Occult Research Club members, report to the Council office, please."

She then released the button, passed the receiver to Tsubaki and turned her gaze to Rias.

"I'm calling my sister next. You should call your brother as well."

"Wow, going for it right out of the gate!" The Gremory heiress said in exaggerated surprise. "You must really trust Connor for you to act on his advice without a second thought."

Sona took off her glasses to let her light violet eyes meet Rias' blue-green orbs without obstruction.

"I wouldn't say that I trust him, Rias. He has a rather viscous habit of shading smaller truths, but in matters of dire consequence, I've found that his honesty can be quite brutal. As we are, we cannot hope to match the power of a founding member of the Grigori; it would be the height of foolishness to think otherwise. I don't want to cause any more trouble for my sister than you do for your brother, and we might very well be playing into Kokabiel's hands by doing this, but we have no choice."

"Well, maybe not, Kaichō."

The comment drew the room's attention to Akeno, who was still holding the second note.

"You could ask even just one of them to come to Kuoh for a matter that technically has nothing to do with Kokabiel, while subtly hinting at the attack. Lord Lucifer and Lady Leviathan didn't get to where they are by being stupid. If one were to already be here when the attack begins, then their response can be construed as an act of self-defense. That is, if Kokabiel decides to go through with it. The best case scenario is that he leaves without incident because his plan was thwarted."

"But if he truly has deserted the Grigori like Lochlainn claims, retreat might not be an option for him," Tsubaki added, having finished her call. "He may believe that he has no other course of action but to continue."

"Caught red-handed, with no backup plan or means of escape? That sounds like a personal problem~" Akeno said with delight. A bit too much, perhaps. "All the more reason why we should ask the Satans to arrive before he's ready."

Sona glanced to Rias, who was quietly mulling over her choices. Finally, the redhead sighed in relent.

"Okay… I'll call my brother. Who knows, maybe Grayfia will come along to keep him under control."

Sona nodded. It was good to see that Rias was not letting her first Rating Game victory go to her head. Ancestors only knew how this would have gone down if Rias thought that she and Sona would be able to handle this themselves.

Setting her glasses back in place, Sona put her hand to her own ear and conjured a magic circle for communication. She then looked out the office window and into the sky where the sun was rising from behind a blanket of clouds.

'You had better be right about this, Mr. Lochlainn.'

---

…

1): Japanese convenience store

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 21: Spring the Trap

Connor had reached the top of the stairs on the apartment building's breezeway when he felt the familiar nudge of the telepathic Master-Servant link being opened.

'Master, the messages have been delivered,' Assassin reported.

He paused to take a cautionary glance around before replying.

'Any need for intervention?'

'No. The familiar acted as per your instructions.'

'Good, then Kiba's on board. Maintain your position, and let me know of any surprise visits.'

'As you wish.'

One of Caster's main points of contention with Connor's plan boiled down to three simple words: 'trust but verify.' A magus could recruit all the help he wanted for whatever schemes he was planning, but if he had no way of knowing that the help followed his directions, it could compromise all the work he put into his arrangements.

That was at least partly the reason for Assassin to be stationed at the academy. If the familiar deviated from the path Connor had instructed for Kiba, her job was to intercept and incapacitate the winged beast, then deliver the messages herself using a puppet that she could disguise as the bird.

Luckily, it didn't come to that, as it seemed Kiba was willing to work with yet another outside entity. At this point, it hardly mattered what he told Rias in his note. Sona getting her message from Connor was enough for her to act with all speed, and she would talk enough sense into Rias and push the redhead into action if she wasn't already moving.

Kokabiel was now the Devils' part of the problem to handle, which left Sellzen and Galilei for Connor and his 'associates' to deal with.

On that subject, Connor opened the mental link to his first Servant.

'Any luck on your end, Caster?'

'You know better than to bring up luck with me, kid,' the spirit chided.

Connor rolled his eyes. 'Sorry, how goes the search?'

'No sign of the crow, but I've got a visual on the other two. They've been going from spot to spot in town, looking around every corner. No bombs or poisons or anything like that being left behind, though. Assassin must've really rattled Happy Slasher's cage; now that Plan A's down a hole, he and Fat Man are paranoid.'

'Either that, or they're trying their own measure of divide and conquer,' Connor hypothesized, smiling slightly at Caster's codenames.

'I doubt it, but I'll keep an eye on them just in case Plan B involves some wanton slaughter before Featherhead makes the scene.'

'Okay, good. Keep me apprised if they suddenly change course.'

'Gotcha.'

Closing the link once more, Connor sighed. He felt like a switchboard operator, changing gears and swapping out lines of communication one after the other, all while trying to juggle multiple conversations at once.

At least his last discussion with Tobio had been pretty cut and dry.

-----

His debriefing of the wayward pair of warriors complete, Connor proceeded back to the cemetery to check up on his own cohort. Tobio was standing at the torii gate that marked the entrance, one hand in a pocket while the other held onto the jacket that he had slung over his shoulder. Hearing Connor approach, he looked up and locked eyes with the magus.

The two humans stared at one another in silence until an impish smile appeared on Connor's face.

"What seems to be the trouble, officer?"

Tobio shook his head and withdrew a slip of paper bearing a pair of lightly glowing runes from his pocket.

"Just you being a sneaky little rat. I was confused as all hell when I started hearing voices coming from behind me with no one there. After a minute, though, I pulled this off my back and put two and two together: You bugged yourself so that I could listen in on your sales pitch to those two."

"Turned it on right before I called Asia." Connor flipped the neckline of his t-shirt to reveal the business end of the Listening Device array. "So now you're in on the tentative plan, and I don't have to waste time explaining everything again. Works better that way, I think."

The agent huffed. "Right, other than my needing to find a new cover after this. So, with your plan in mind, I guess I'm the one that's dealing with Sellzen?"

"Oh yeah, like you weren't already gonna volunteer, knowing that he's back," the magus flatly answered, earning a shrug in reply.

"Fine, but shouldn't I just go for Galilei while I'm at it? I could just as easily kill them both."

"I'd rather you prioritize the psychopath, so if you make them both think you're too preoccupied with him, it would give Galilei an 'opportunity' to escape," Connor explained, using air quotes for emphasis. "He'll run for Kokabiel and be vulnerable once he's too far away for his bodyguard to protect him, and then Xenovia and Kiba can do their thing."

Tobio nodded skeptically. "And you're certain that Galilei won't realize he's heading into a trap?"

"Even if he figures it out, there won't be anything he can do about it. One way or another, he's not leaving Kuoh alive."

Connor turned his body to walk around the agent, heading back down the trail leading to town.

"Anyway, that's the skinny," he threw over his shoulder. "I'll let you know when I get a lead on someone, so call your boss and tell him that things'll be coming to a head here soon."

Without waiting for a reply, the magus began descending the hill, sending his next orders to his Servants along the way.

-----

With Caster and Assassin providing updates in real-time, and their spirit forms confirmed to be undetectable by outside measures, he could react accordingly to whoever moved where on any part of the field. The advantage was his.

Upon passing his front door, Connor's attention drifted to the bedroom. Based on the animated chatter that he could hear coming from inside, it seemed Asia had already worked her magic and made another friend.

Putting on his most congenial smile, he opened the bedroom door and peeked his head through.

"Knock knock," he greeted.

"Hi, Connor," Asia smiled back, radiantly as always.

"How are they? Did everything go okay?" Irina immediately asked him as he came in and took a seat beside Asia.

"They're fine, just run a bit ragged. I filled them in on my plan, and Kiba sent word to the Kings, so now everyone's on the same page. And by the way, Asia," he turned his gaze to the blonde nun and smiled, "good job on letting Irina check Nightmare. That helped a lot with convincing Xenovia."

"Oh… thank you." Asia looked down at her legs as her hands fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Step by step, she was getting better about taking compliments.

"Now, Ms. Shidō. Can I call you Irina?" She nodded. "Alright, we've got some time on our hands, and there's some things I need clarified about the Excaliburs."

"Okay… But, before we get into that, can I… ask you something first?"

He arched an eyebrow, then nodded.

"Last night… Did, uh…" she fidgeted, as if summoning the courage to speak. "Did you see my… my-"

"Your breasts? Yeah, I saw them."

Dropped with all the subtlety of an untied bag of rocks, his interception achieved its desired effect. The girl's face turned a hot red, just as it had on the day they met, before she pulled the blanket over herself to hide her shame. A scandalized Asia turned to him with her own blush coloring her cheeks as well.

"Had to get you out of the suit, couldn't be helped. Saving your life and all that. But if it's any consolation…" he paused to make sure she was watching, then gave a teasing, sage-like nod with a completely straight face, "they are very nice."

"PERVERT!" the exorcist shrieked, her voice cracking until she coughed.

"Connor, stop that!" Asia scolded, lips turning upside-down. She was probably trying to give him a disapproving frown, but it just came off as a cute pout. It didn't help that she was turning an even brighter pink that spread to most of her face, including her ears.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, that was too much." He held up his hands in surrender, but the grin on his face made it clear that he was not at all remorseful. He meant what he'd said, and the reactions were just too funny. "No more, I'm done."

In the back of his mind, he idly wondered how much of an influence Caster truly had on him.

---

Issei took another deep breath, watching the sun fall over the horizon. A tug on his sleeve drew him to look down and to his left.

"You good?" Koneko asked, staring up at him curiously.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just not sure how I feel about… sitting and waiting."

"There's no need to worry, Ise," Rias assured, giving that amazing smile of hers. "Kokabiel may think he can catch us off guard, but we're the ones with the element of surprise here."

"And I cannot wait to see the look on his face once he realizes it." With her half-lidded eyes and sultry smile, Akeno's longing comment was downright provocative.

He fought the urge to shiver and instead tapped his foot on the track field.

Since the emergency meeting in the Student Council room that morning, it had been an all-hands-on-deck situation. Afternoon classes and events were dismissed early, and the school was completely vacated by 5:00 P.M. All that remained on campus now were Rias, Sona and their respective servants.

Kiba had finally gotten a message to Rias and, from how she and Sona explained it to everyone, he had acquired valuable intel thanks to Connor Lochlainn of all people. It seemed that the high-ranking Fallen Angel that Freed and Valper were in cahoots with had decided to go his own way and invoke a war. Why? Who knew, and who cared? Issei certainly didn't. The only thing that mattered to him was stopping them, especially after what Valper had done to Kiba in the past.

To be certain, this Kokabiel guy was confident, but Rias hoped to use his overconfidence to their advantage. By presenting him with one of his primary targets in a manner he couldn't resist, he would walk himself right into an ambush. While this happened, Sona and her peerage would stay back and erect a barrier around the campus. The Sitri heiress held no illusion about being able to contain the Fallen Angel with it, but if nothing else, the damage would be kept to a minimum.

This plan was initially met with protest by most of the Devils until Sona backed it up with a message sent by Connor. According to her, the magus was convinced that Kokabiel wouldn't wait for long to find the missing Excalibur fragments. His overall plan having been stalled, the possibility now existed that he may simply forgo his accomplices and just do the job himself.

The risk was still tremendous, and everyone understood that. However, both Sona and Rias hinted that there was a way to ensure taking the risk would pay off.

So here they stood, Issei and the rest of Rias' peerage sans Kiba, waiting at the threshold of the academy's larger athletic grounds in anticipation.

As the sun dipped out from view and its last rays dimmed, something else lit up the sky in its place. A huge teal-green magic circle as large as the the ORC club house suddenly appeared directly over the baseball field. From the epicenter, an ornate stone construct taller than any building in Kuoh Town slowly descended.

Seated with legs crossed on a throne atop the construct, a man stared down amusedly at the Devils with malevolent gold eyes surrounded by vivid red sclera. His mouth was set into a saw-toothed smile equally as intimidating as a scowl would have been. These features, in conjunction with his long, black hair, pale complexion and pointed ears, made him seem more of a dark elf than anything else.

He had come dressed for the occasion, adorned in elaborate purple and deep black robes. A pair of golden pauldrons festooning his shoulders gave a sharp, authoritative contrast to his foreboding color scheme.

When his eyes met those of Rias, his already wide smile stretched further.

"Good evening, Rias Gremory. It's a pleasure to finally meet the younger sister of Sirzechs in person." He spoke with a powerful air that meshed very well with his expression.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Kokabiel," Rias cordially replied, running a hand through her hair. "I must admit, though, that your arrival is a tad… worrisome. If you wished to speak with either myself or Sona Sitri on official business, it would be more convenient to do so at daybreak."

"Yes, about that. I meant to introduce myself sooner, but there was a minor setback in my schedule, so my apologies for the delay."

"That's quite understandable. Life has a way of upending carefully laid plans. Like say, starting a war?"

At that moment, Sona's barrier activated. A glimmering wall of blue arose and formed a dome that encompassed the school and its adjacent facilities, turning the skyline a deep red in the process.

Kokabiel looked around, completely untroubled, then stared silently at Rias before his smile flattened.

"I see. So you've gone and spoiled the surprise I had in store for you." The Cadre let out an irritated sigh. "Children; always skipping the buildup, no desire to see good stage play in its entirety. Is it any wonder, then, that entertainment has fallen so far in these times?"

"I'm all for good buildup and payoff, but when you're trying to create a war just to say that you can, I tend not to stand on ceremony," Rias proclaimed.

"Such confidence!" A mocking grin threatened to split Kokabiel's face in two. "You truly do take after your brother, believing you've already won before anything has even happened. I mean, really, is this barrier supposed to do anything other than trap you here with me?"

Rias just returned his grin with one of her own.

"No, it's there for my sake."

The cheery voice coming from his immediate right caused Kokabiel's smile to instantly vanish. Turning in that direction, he came face-to-face with a smirking young woman in a pink and white magical girl costume. She held a star-tipped wand with both hands behind her back while she cheekily leaned toward him.

"My So-tan doesn't want the whole town frozen over."

Kokabiel blinked, then clicked his tongue.

"Ah… I'd forgotten about your strange little penchant for popping out of nowhere. Not that I'm complaining about the early arrival."

"Au contraire, Kokky-kun, it's you who is late," the magical girl playfully rebutted, pointing her wand at his face. "I was here hours ago for an anime-themed photo shoot event. I even brought Miracle Levia-tan's season three costume, my personal favorite!" For emphasis, she curled one leg and struck a silly pose while throwing a peace sign and a wink at Kokabiel.

"Is that right?" The Cadre's eyebrows twitched.

"Yep!" the woman chirped, before her expression dramatically darkened and her posture straightened. "But what's this I hear about you trying to start another war? About your intention to murder my little sister, and use her body like a stepping stone?!"

A bone-chilling wind blew across the area, sending Rias and her servants into shivering fits as their summer uniforms did nothing to protect against the sudden temperature swing. Kokabiel, meanwhile, remained unbothered, his smile once more returning as if he was recalling a fond memory.

The Fallen Angel stood from his seat and turned to address the far shorter Devil directly.

"We all do what we must, Serafall, and I simply must see an actual resolution to the Great War, not settle for some farcical agreement made between weak-willed fools with no sense of purpose."

The Fallen Star of God lifted his left hand and manifested a light spear, willing it to an enormous size before casually flicking his wrist. Quick as a gunshot, the spear launched itself toward the academy's gymnasium, but a bright blue magic circle appeared in its path and fired an equally huge lance of ice right back.

The opposing destructive forces collided and detonated, releasing a blast wave that knocked everyone previously standing down to the ground. Despite being saved from a direct hit, the gym still suffered damage, outer panels and some roofing almost leaped off the building, while nearby trees lost healthy branches from the sudden shock.

Rias grasped Akeno's forearm, the King and Queen slowly leveraging each other back to their feet. Issei reached out and lifted Koneko, pulling her up without resistance since her hands were covering her ears in pain.

"Too long have our factions gone without a good, healthy conflict," Kokabiel continued from up high, having taken to the air with ten jet-black avian wings spread out behind him. "It falls to me to change that, since no one else will. While I would prefer to face both you and Sirzechs at once, if he's decided not to attend, then I suppose it's out of my hands. So, on that note, let's you and I pick up where we left off centuries ago."

His challenge declared, the Cadre summoned a pair of longswords made entirely of congealed light into his hands. He then glanced down at Rias and grinned again.

"And as for you, Rias Gremory, shall I bring some of my pets to play with you and your chattel?"

An orb of light gathered at the bottom of the levitating construct, building in size and then firing like a cannon straight into the ground below. The baseball infield then collapsed as a massive sinkhole opened beneath it, and a smokeless green fire burst to the sky with the power of an erupting volcano.

Issei then witnessed something crawling out of the burning pit that he could not imagine ever existing.

At almost two meters tall, its massive body resembled that of a large dog completely void of hair, revealing every powerful muscle that lay beneath its dark red skin. The head featured pointed ears that stood straight up, two skeletal cavities in the place of a snout, and the smooth surface along its length indicated that this creature was, by some diabolical design, meant to have no eyes.

Not withstanding its lack of sight, it still sensed their presence and let out a snarl fit for something that would call hell its home. An eerie, toxic green glow emanated from its throat, effectively shining a light on the rows of knife-like fangs in its wide mouth and casting their shadows on the ground. (1)

The beast took several steps forward just as another one climbed up from the pit. And another, and another, and then a simultaneous three, and a further five!

"What in the hell?" Issei shuddered at the dozen eyeless faces fixed toward them in bloodlust.

"Haven't seen these things in a long time," Ddraig announced, independently summoning the Boosted Gear into physical form. "They're a breed of demonic beast that stalks the English countryside in the dead of night. Barghests, they're called. Just seeing one is considered an ill omen, but a whole pack like this spells certain death for anyone they catch alone."

Rias looked back up to the smirking Fallen. "You must have invested quite some time in rounding up all these mongrels, Kokabiel."

"That I did," he answered gleefully. "I was originally going to bring some of the Cerberus' whelps, but when I came across these wonderful specimens after the war, I thought to myself, 'In the debate of quantity versus quality, why settle for just one or the other?'"

The pack of hounds split into groups of two or three, spreading out to encircle the Devils and keeping a distance of five or six meters. The guttural snarls they produced were a grisly symphony, almost drowning out the rest of the world.

"I'm very eager to see how well they perform in this setting," the Cadre cackled, "so by all means, kick and scream as they tear you to pieces!"

"Ise, stick to the plan," Rias commanded. "Start boosting for transfers, we'll cover you."

"Got it! Let's do this, Ddraig!" Issei clenched his left hand.

"Boost!"

Kokabiel scoffed. "Hmph, for what good that will do you now."

Serafall spread her wings and leaped away from the throne, coming to a level height with Kokabiel. Beneath her feet, her blue magic circle appeared, and a clear sheet of ice began to form. The air itself seemed to freeze at her bidding, spreading out until it reached the boundaries of Sona's own barrier. A massive platform of ice now lay suspended in the air between Kokabiel and the Devils on the ground, shielding them from him.

"Rias, kill every one of his mutts! Don't let any of them escape!" she ordered as a wall of magic circles spawned behind her and aimed directly at Kokabiel.

The Cadre simply smiled, his teeth almost glistening. Even where the Satan's circles opened fire in deafening unison, he met the blasts head on with a menacing laugh.

Rias made the first move, sweeping her hands and creating a row of Destruction orbs in front of her. These orbs in turn fired large spreads of energy in the form of needles toward the part of the pack facing her. The beasts in her line of fire broke formation and scattered, putting distance between them and her while deftly avoiding the barrage.

A group of three suddenly charged from the left, closer to Akeno. The Queen launched a fork of lightning at the trio, but the leader spat a fireball in response, intercepting the attack. The two followers then burst through the resulting smoke cloud, their bodies alight with the same green fire and moving even faster.

One stayed on course for Akeno, while the second headed straight for Koneko. Both leaped for their targets, their true bodies returning in the process fangs first. Canine jaws snapped for the Devils' necks, coming within centimeters of meeting flesh. Akeno let out a pulse of lightning that threw back her attacker, and Koneko ducked down to allow the other to overshoot.

Instead of continuing their assault, the two hounds then ran away to the ring of circling beasts, melding back with their numbers.

Another pair sprinted at Rias next, this time in a staggered formation. The Gremory heiress fired her Power of Destruction in a constant stream right in their path, like a flamethrower. The hounds split up to evade, but Rias was prepared. Dispelling the stream, she then released a black and red wave in a much wider cone, hoping to destroy them in the follow-up.

To Issei's shock, this was countered, too. Both beasts fired back with a gout of flame that met the wave halfway, sparing themselves from annihilation. Much like the one before, this pair then turned and retreated to the safety of the pack.

What was going on? What were they trying to do? Were they more afraid of Rias' power than Akeno's? Or was it just…

'They're probing us,' Issei realized, 'checking for weaknesses!'

No wonder Kokabiel wanted to watch them work; this wasn't just some swarm of mindless predators, these things were intelligent!

"Boost!"

"Buchō! I don't think our magic will be of much use like this!" Akeno alerted.

"I agree. It looks like we'll have to kill them from close range. Defend each other, don't let them separate you!"

The three girls formed a triangle with Issei in the center. As this happened, the circle of beasts around them began to tighten.

'They're not as fast as Kiba, but still, at this range they can…'

Looking to his left, he saw another pair break off and run to attack Koneko.

The tiny Rook turned just in time to meet the incoming pair, ducking under one and batting it away, then grabbing hold of the other's snout and one ear before twisting. The resulting *CRACK* was like a snapping whip against the surrounding chorus of snarls. She let the animal fall to the ground in a lifeless heap, its neck cleanly broken. Within seconds, the body started to disintegrate and drift with the wind, as if the very fire in its guts consumed it.

"Fragile."

"So they're like Knights, huh? Good to know!" Issei opted to disregard their difference of opinions to the word 'fragile.'

"Are you alright?" Rias checked.

"Mm." Koneko nodded, her nose wrinkling at the smell of burning flesh.

"Boost!"

From the corner of his vision, Issei could see another four beasts climb out of the pit. Those already circling the group paid no heed as the new additions simply fell into formation.

Worry began to bubble in his stomach again. How long could they hold out like this?

---

Tobio nonchalantly flipped through the pages of a magazine at a corner stand, or so it seemed. In truth, the agent was masking his presence while watching Freed and Galilei, both of whom were moving east on the opposite side of the street.

By dusk, most shops and businesses in Kuoh closed for the day and workers were allowed to go home. The downtown crowds were always quick to diminish then, and very few people, if any, were still out walking around. It would be an ideal time for the two co-conspirators to move more freely, but the same was true for their shadow.

Setting the magazine back, the agent adjusted his jacket and crossed the empty road to more directly follow the pair. He kept a safe distance, staying out of immediate sight while surveying the surroundings. As potential witnesses dwindled by the minute, he stuck closer to the shadows of structures and mapped out potential strike points.

No sooner had the sun fallen and given way for the man-made lights around them, than a spike of magic drew his attention, and that of his targets, toward the academy. The agent made out a large magic circle in the sky above with something emerging from it, and he clearly recognized who was using it.

'Well, I'll be damned,' he thought.

"The hell?" Freed blurted, turning to Galilei. "You don't think he–"

"I'm afraid he must have," the bishop worriedly replied.

"Sonuvabitch! Let's go!"

The two began running for the academy, with Tobio not far behind. They hadn't gone more than a hundred meters before the agent made his first move. Focusing on the shadows cast by a street lamp his targets passed, he raised his arm and flicked his wrist.

Shadowy blades surfaced from the ground and launched in an arc toward the men's necks. Freed, however, drew Excalibur Rapidly from his coat and instantly surged forward to fend off the surprise attack on both himself and Galilei.

"Bwah!" The priest yelped and stumbled back, while the mad exorcist withdrew Excalibur Mimic and looked around wildly. "What was that?!"

Freed didn't answer; he just continued his watch of the area, eyes occasionally drifting down to the shadows on the ground.

During one such glance, Tobio appeared from the shadow of a nearby building and lunged for Freed's neck. The newly-formed twin sickles of black flame in his hands were met by Mimic catching them at the crossing point of their blades.

"How did I fucking know?!" Freed seethed, glaring at Tobio from the corner of his eye.

Mimic twisted and flexed in mid lock, its tip taking a sharp turn and aiming for Tobio's face. The agent disengaged and warded off three rapid snake-like jabs from the Excalibur fragment, taking two steps back. The weapon then coiled back and snapped into a straight sword as 'the one that got away' turned to face him.

"First, that cock-blocking ninja runs off with Nightmare, and now you're back?! This is really a not a good time, so if you could kindly fuck off, that would be fantastic!"

The madman vanished in the blink of an eye, only to reappear directly beside Tobio. He swung Rapidly in a long arc while Mimic twisted down to coil around and shred the agent's legs. Tobio blocked the two-pronged attack, unconcerned with the exorcist's new gimmicks, then retaliated with a crossing slash that forced Freed to defend lest he lose an arm.

The two continued trading blows in a deadly dance set to the sound of ringing metal, until the exiled bishop made his presence known again.

"Freed, we don't have time for this!"

"I know, dammit!" the exorcist shouted back, striking at Tobio's left side before ducking under a right-handed counter.

Their duel carried them from the sidewalk into the center street, and with it came some collateral damage. Two street lamps and a tree were decapitated, while several nearby sidewalk rails ended up in pieces. Freed had even cleaved a parked car in two with Rapidly.

Tobio hopped over a low sweep from Mimic and closed in on the follow-up, forcing Freed to abandon his next attack. Blades clashed and locked together, leaving the two glaring at one another mere centimeters apart.

"Fucking shit!" the exorcist spat. "Get outta here, old man! I'll be with you in a minute, just as soon as I'm finished with this bastard! MOVE!"

Galilei hesitated only for a moment, before turning and running to the east, straight for the academy. Tobio watched him leave but made no move to give chase.

With his charge safely away, Freed broke the lock and jumped back. His expression relaxed slightly as he repositioned himself and assumed a guarding stance.

"This won't go down like last time, pal."

He was in no mood to crack jokes anymore. Tobio, on the other hand, never was to begin with.

"No… It really won't."

The shadows beneath the agent's feet deepened, then swelled and began crawling up his legs, covering his body in a wave of deep black and crimson flames. As his face disappeared into the featureless void, he began chanting.

"Behowlest the slaying of one thousand mortals, besignest the slaying of ten thousand goblins. Mine name, which tis immersed in deepest darkness, tis the Imitation God traversing the Polar Night."

Recognizing what was happening, Freed moved to attack, only to be driven away by the flames consuming Tobio's form.

"Ack!"

"O ye, perishest by mine own blade. Fools ye art, o deformed Creator Gods. BALANCE BREAK! NIGHT CELESTIAL SLASH DOGS!"

The twisting darkness around Tobio burst apart in a flare of heat and pressure, forcing Freed several steps back. In place of the human Grigori agent now stood a tall werewolf-like being with six tails hanging behind him down to the heels of his digitigrade feet. Menacing red eyes glared at the mad exorcist, who held his ground despite the bestial killing intent focused directly on him.

Lifting his clawed hands, Tobio drew from the shadows enveloping his body, forming a war scythe that dwarfed the pair he had used mere seconds ago.

"Aw, shit…"

The agent gave Freed no further chance to speak, charging forward in a monstrous burst of speed. The exorcist brought his weapons to stop the giant blade from taking off his head, but could do little to halt the power behind the charge that broke his contact with the ground. Sparks flew between their grinding blades as the two combatants remained locked for the entire one-way trip to the outer limits of the city.

---

At the academy, an intense, otherworldly pressure put a sudden stop to all activity within the barrier, including Kokabiel and Serafall. Even the hellhounds lost focus, perking their ears and turning their heads to the source in surprise.

"The hell was that?!" Issei exclaimed. "One of ours?"

"Came from outside," Koneko said. "Someone else is fighting."

"Oh my~ Must be the help Mr. Lochlainn mentioned," Akeno remarked.

Up in the air, Kokabiel clicked his tongue.

"So that was it, huh? The teacher's pet tipped you off to my movements? I'll be put sure to put him down like the craven dog he is after this!"

The Cadre renewed his assault on Serafall, bombarding her with blades of light both in his hands and spawned from the air beside him. As the hounds resumed their attack on Rias' peerage, another dozen hounds clambered out from the pit, further adding to the enemy force.

"Stay together! We can win this!" Rias shouted her reassurance, but Issei didn't miss the shift in her gaze to the battling superpowers above them.

---

Just a short distance shy of the town's central plaza, Connor ran another quick check of his surroundings. Still no witnesses and, low crime rate as Kuoh had, no street cameras were aimed his way, either.

Returning to his work, the magus finished setting the last of the three basic arrays that would do the work of catching his target, which were all interconnected by another array that allowed for remote activation. Simple but effective, and very easy for an unaware enemy to overlook.

Kokabiel's floating throne had blasted a literal hole straight to hell, and the monstrous hounds he had summoned would keep coming through without end until the hole was sealed. Based on Assassin's observation, sealing the breach would do no good unless the throne itself was inoperable; otherwise, it would just make an entirely new gateway. It had to be destroyed.

Luckily, he knew someone with just the tool for the job. He just had to get their attention.

Tobio's attack on Sellzen and Galilei was more than just him settling the score. It was also a signal to Connor that the weak link was on his way. Activating the other half of the Dagaz signal rune on his left hand, he the magus took cover behind a brick wall and waited for his target to appear.

Within ten seconds, he did. Galilei came around the corner, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He passed by Connor without ever noticing, but even if he had, it was too late.

The trap had already been sprung.

Walls of fire suddenly burst from the ground around the man, boxing him into an area no larger than an office cubicle. Withering under the heat, his only way out was to go back. As he turned, though, he came face to face with someone blocking his path and pointing a gun at him.

Connor had quietly stepped out with another keepsake in his hand –a gift from the exorcists that invaded his apartment: a six-shot revolver-style light gun, modified with a muzzle brake and synthetic grip. Finger on the trigger, Connor aimed the firearm to the cornered bishop's head.

The towering flames dimmed and receded but, if anything, the sweat pouring down the man's brow only intensified.

"W-w-wait! I– GAAUGH!"

Before Galilei could begin to beg for his life, Kiba suddenly appeared behind him. The Knight ensured that the target of his rage was denied the plea for his life, first stabbing the man through the back with a sword in his left hand, then slashing his throat with a smaller blade in his right. He then kicked the dying bishop's legs out from underneath him, allowing him to fall on the sword still impaling him.

In doing so, the man landed with the sword's pointed pommel wedging itself between two concrete tiles. The added weight of his fall plunged the blade further through his gut until his body came to a stop, splayed over the weapon's guard as if his spine had been broken across it. With a lurch and a gurgling exhale, he stopped moving, eyes fixed toward the sky as the life left them.

Kiba remained where he was, looming over the corpse and leering down with overwhelming hatred. While Connor suspected that Kiba wasn't one to wish a brutal death on somebody, he could safely say that Galilei deserved it.

'Fear the wrath of a gentle man, indeed.'

Xenovia appeared some seconds later, Excalibur Destruction in hand, though it was unnecessary now. She looked down to the body and shook her head before peering back up to Kiba, who remained motionless.

"Kiba?" She clasped his shoulder but got no response. "Kiba!"

Again, no answer. The Knight just continued to glower at Galilei's empty shell.

Connor glanced to the academy, taking note of the explosions that lit up the evening sky. There wasn't time for this. If it came to a war of attrition, Rias and her group would be first to fall.

Taking a page from Caster's book, Connor approached the pair while holstering his weapon and–

*POW*

–slapped Kiba across the back of his head, to the astonishment of Xenovia.

"OW!" Finally, Kiba came to his senses, his free hand lifting to shield his head.

"You awake in there?!" Connor asked.

"I-I…" The blonde Devil blinked owlishly and almost looked down again, but shook his head to stop himself. "Yes, I'm… I'm fine."

'Fine' would have to be enough; arguing the contrary would take too long.

"Good, now get back with your group and give them a hand, they're outnumbered and losing ground fast. We'll catch up, go!"

The sandy blonde hesitated for only a moment, then turned to the academy and almost flickered out of existence with how fast he moved. Connor then knelt down and began rummaging through the dead bishop's clothes.

"What are you doing?" Xenovia asked.

"Checking for something. Fusing those swords couldn't be an easy or a quick process, so Tons-of-Fun here had to have something special that would–" he stopped mid-explanation as he pulled something from Galilei's robe, holding it up. "–help him with that."

"That's… a Holy Element," she said, examining the oblong azure diamond in the magus' hand. "The Church uses those to implant the ability to wield holy swords into qualified exorcists."

"Yeah, I know that, but why does he–" A thought struck Connor, and he turned his head to look up at the girl. "Xenovia, how does the Church harvest these elements?"

She blinked at his change in tone.

"Um, genetic samples are taken from compatible people and crystallized by a special ritual. Why?"

Looking back to the gem in his hand, Connor conducted a Structural Grasp, and almost retched.

The process reminded him of a Flowing and Transferring of Power spell, dealing with the storage of another being's magical energy in particular, but a small 'sample' was not what he sensed inside this piece. Evidently, Valper had tacked on a spell that molded human souls into the power source instead, and crammed them all into a single container.

As to whose souls these were, it wasn't hard to guess.

"What is it?"

"Never mind, something for later." Shaking his head, he stood up and pocketed the crystal, then turned around and pointed to the throne, still hovering where its owner had left it. "Okay, so, you see that thing up there?"

Following his direction, she nodded. "Yes?"

"Kokabiel's summoning a pack of hellhounds to fight the Devils, and he's using that to open a passageway here for them. Serafall Leviathan has already engaged him, so he's busy with her and not guarding his asset. It has got to go down if we want the reinforcements to stop."

"And you want me to destroy it?" she asked in summary.

"Can you?"

"If I could reach it, certainly."

"Then follow me, I've got a way to get you up there." Connor took off, prompting Xenovia to catch up and fall in behind him.

"And the others?"

"They'll have to do without you for just a little longer! You can join the fight afterward!"

The newly formed duo arrived without delay and swung around the west side of the campus grounds, weaving between the trees in the surrounding forest. In cover as they were, they managed to avoid encountering any of Sona's peerage upon passing the barrier.

'Assassin, cover us. Caster, seal off the portal when that thing comes down. Don't expose yourselves unless there's no other option.'

'Understood.'

'You've only got so much energy to spare for all three of us, kid! Don't overdo it!'

'Don't worry, I won't!'

He was careful to lead them away from most of the action and, more importantly, away from the notice of everyone and everything currently fighting. Kiba proved helpful on that front by drawing most of the horde into chasing him across the athletic fields, staying just outside of their range but close enough to strike some of them down and keep moving.

Connor and Xenovia continued until they came to the edge of the tree line near the throne's base, or where it would be if it wasn't levitating. Giving a quick double-check to make sure he could work without interruption, Connor then turned to Xenovia and pointed at the ground beneath his feet.

"Okay, now stand right here and I'll give you a boost up. Be ready to jump."

Doing as instructed despite her uncertainty, the exorcist took her position and held her weapon tightly. Connor then stepped back and began to inscribe the proper array into the dirt beside the circle.

'Ingwaz, Ehwaz, Thurisaz!'

Upon completion, he took a deep breath and exhaled, simultaneously sending a burst of Od from his palms into the array. Tapping into the leyline below, he willed it to open a vein and eject the ground beneath Xenovia.

In an instant, a column of dirt and rock shot upward at a steep angle, taking a shocked exorcist along for a very unconventional ride. The jolt nearly caused her to fall on her backside, but she grabbed the ledge of the makeshift platform and managed to maintain her footing. She continued to rise until the pillar slowed and came to a stop with its passenger left several meters above the throne.

Connor looked up to see her glance toward the dueling superpowers, then hoist Destruction over her head and leap from her perch. With one monstrous swing, she brought her blade down on the stone construct, almost cleaving it in two before it exploded in mid-air.

Shattered rock and pulverized mortar rained to the ground in all directions. Larger chunks fell both into the pit and around its diameter, forcing some hounds to evade or risk getting crushed. Through the dust, Connor saw Xenovia successfully touch down and rejoin the others.

A gust of wind then blew in from behind Connor, which he recognized as Caster using a runic spell that was good for putting up a short-lived smokescreen. With so much airborne debris, however, it instead spawned a vortex of fine dust and sand that enshrouded the sinkhole. The bright green blaze that once lit the battlefield like a bonfire turned opaque within the cloud.

Connor then saw the silhouette of a man forming beside the pit, with a familiar staff pointing into it.

---

On the other side of Kuoh, Tobio pressed his attack.

Back and forth, his great scythe swung, leaving no room for Freed to counter. At the same time, spectral clones of Jin leapt off from his form and harassed the exorcist at multiple angles, nipping away at him and cutting off any chance of escape. Likewise, small blades reached up from nearby shadows and sliced at Freed in random intervals.

Having brought his Balance Breaker to bear from the start this time, it wasn't even much work for the Grigori agent. Within the first minute, he had picked apart Freed's newfound style centered around the Excalibur fragments and rendered it near worthless. The mad exorcist's right hand, still clutching Transparency, lay on the ground long forgotten by both combatants as they continued to clash.

Even so, despite his newfound disadvantage, Freed continued to fight with feral tenacity. Excalibur Rapidly's augmenting of his movement speed managed to help him stay ahead of Tobio's attacks, but only just, while his experience did the rest of the work. He had even taken to clutching the hilt of Mimic in his teeth, using it to coil the blade around himself and lash out at the clones.

This desperate combat method only did so much, though, as more holes in his defense gradually opened. Freed was swiftly reaching his limit; the strength behind his guards was falling, his breathing labored, and his eyes lost their focus.

Then, he made a fatal mistake.

He swung Rapidly horizontally, trying to cut Tobio across the hip, but the agent beat him to it. Almost surgically, the scythe removed two of the exorcist's remaining fingers and the lower half of his hand before he could react. With his grip on the sword rendered ineffective, the Excalibur fragment flew out of his grasp in the follow-through. Tobio sent a violent kick to Freed's jaw that snapped his head back and sent Mimic flying as well. Now disarmed, the homonculus had no way to stop his opponent's giant blade from next severing his right leg at the knee.

The exorcist fell onto his back in stunned agony, and Tobio's canine foot stomped the center of his chest. Freed let out a groan as he felt something in his rib cage violently crack; a set of claws poised to pierce his torso. A coagulated glob of blood rolled up his throat, prompting him to turn aside and hack it out. In doing so, he came face to face with the pitch-black scythe, positioned to take off his head.

The exorcist lay in silence, staring at the blade, then he started laughing.

"Heh… Heh-heh-heh-hehehehahahahahaha-gagh-aagh!"

He only stopped when Tobio applied pressure with his foot, pushing the claws in until they broke the skin.

Freed looked up to his vanquisher and gave a resigned, lopsided grin. The pain in his eyes and blood running from his mouth and down his chin made his smile more piteous than sinister.

"Y'know… jus' now, I… had an epiphany…" he began, his words slurring. "This town, this whole damn place… maybe this is jus' where… bad ideas 'nd the sad saps who have 'em all jus' come to die… like me, agh…" he paused to grimace and spit out more blood. "Ugh, fuck… I shoulda bailed after that ninja fucked everything up last night…"

Tobio inclined his head, recalling the earlier mentioning of that word.

"What 'ninja?'" he questioned.

His crippled adversary cocked an eyebrow, studying the humanoid wolf's visage.

"Ya' don' know? … Not familiar with anyone that… can make a whole forest go dead silent, throws sharp, pointy things from long range and… and follows it up with high-explosive rockets?"

Tobio remained silent. Tempting as it was to pass this off as more rabbit-from-a-hat nonsense by a delirious Freed, the man's expression of genuine curiosity sparked the agent's interest. He had thought he'd never hear any actual details about how Lochlainn managed to acquired Nightmare, and it irritated him because he couldn't make an accurate report with such indistinct terms as 'putting dirt in his eye.'

Even from the mouth of an enemy, a clue was a clue.

Meanwhile, the lack of a reply from his executioner was answer enough for Freed's question. He chuckled and spat another wad of blood onto the ground.

"Heh… might wanna look into that."

Hoping to land a final defiant strike at his enemy, Freed drew his pistol and leaned up to shoot Tobio at point blank range. But it wasn't to be.

Tobio's blade sliced through the exorcist's neck, sending his head rolling from his shoulders. As the body went limp under him, the agent then grabbed the newly liberated head by the hair and brought it up to eye level, disengaging his Balance Breaker to face the man one last time.

"Do me a favor first," he calmly bid the rogue, "If you find Hanezu Himejima down in hell, tell him Tobio Ikuse sends his regards."

Freed's jaw fluttered slightly, before it went slack and his eyes rolled up and disappeared under his eyelids.

With his target now eliminated, Tobio could start with his next objective. He dropped the head, letting it fall into his shadow pocket as proof of the kill, then knelt to begin searching the body.

Up until the Twilight Healing debacle, Freed had been employed as one of many rogue exorcists on the Grigori's payroll. After escaping the purge, though, he had vanished, yet somehow maintained contact with Kokabiel in order to get involved in this little scheme. So where had he gone in that time? How had he avoided detection or even being sold out by someone around him in fear for their own life?

Searching through the inside coat pockets, Tobio found his answer. Tucked inside the left breast was a single silver medallion, no bigger than one's thumbnail. The amulet was ice cold to the touch, smooth on one side while a coiling serpent lay embossed on the other and oozed with a power that only one creature in the world could possess.

This was troubling; evidently, the Khaos Brigade was becoming far more lenient in its recruitment policies.

Standing up again, he gathered the exorcist's weapons and set the body ablaze with a fire spell, then turned to look in the direction of the main battle. For a moment, he wondered what his next course of action should be, until he noticed something in the sky directly above the academy and smiled.

"Oh, so he sent you, huh?"

---

Another pair of hounds strafed to get behind Issei and charged.

Just as he prepared to take them, Koneko intercepted with an empowered right hook that sent one beast into the other, and launched them both into a soccer goal.

"Mm," she intoned, quite pleased despite her stoic expression.

"Boost!" Ddraig's voice resounded from the Boosted Gear again, signaling that the reset was complete.

Kiba's sudden reappearance had been enough to put the pack on the defensive and give everyone the chance to regroup. He had immediately apologized to his King for his desertion, declaring that he would accept any punishment she may deliver without any complaint once the battle was finished.

The reunion was short-lived, though, as the beasts were quick to reorganize and reengage.

Kiba once more took the initiative, recreating his rating game performance and drawing a large part of the horde across the school's fields. For a while, it had worked beautifully. Just when it seemed as if he was boxed in, he would slip away and strike another hound to renew the chase. And when some would break away from the pursuit to go after Sona's group, he would change course and attack the deserters, keeping the focus on him.

The rest of the peerage was still under assault by several smaller groups, but they had some breathing room now thanks to their Knight. Sadly, that didn't last long, either. For every single hound someone managed to kill, even more would come crawling out of that massive pit; they just continually replaced their losses in steady increments.

Soon enough, the numbers would be too much for anyone to handle; it was an endless, uphill battle!

"What in the world?!" Rias suddenly exclaimed.

Turning to look in her direction, Issei's eyes widened when he saw what she did; a pillar had shot out of the ground right next to the floating throne. And someone he recognized was on top of it!

"That's–"

Before Issei could finish, the figure in question jumped from the pillar and dropped downward toward the throne. The massive sword in her hands tore through the floating structure like it was made from matchsticks; the ensuing explosion threw up clouds of white dust as huge chunks of marble crashed to Earth.

Xenovia tucked and rolled as she hit the ground, breaking into a run the moment she stopped rolling. Two broads swings of Excalibur Destruction cut down another three beasts and opened a path for her to join the group.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I had to deal with something."

"I'd say that something has been dealt with," Issei commented, with Koneko adding a thumbs-up.

"Boost!"

Issei glanced back to the portal, or where it was supposed to be. The cloud of dust resulting from Xenovia's attack had completely engulfed the area as it drifted down. He could still see the glowing green of the hellhounds that continued climbing out of the pit, but it was difficult to make out their shapes.

Suddenly, the dust around the portal began to turn and swirl, forming a miniature tornado that pulled every fine particle in the air toward it. The vortex then climbed up until hit the ice barrier, blasting dirt and sand every which way to create an overcast of grime and grit that drifted into the woods.

'What now?'

When the whirlwind dissipated, the pit –and what was happening inside– became visible. From the outer edges of the sinkhole, tree saplings had sprouted horizontally, growing at an alarming rate and crossing the hole's diameter in a matter of seconds. At the same time, they twisted around one another, forming chains and then spreading out to create spindly nets covered in thorns. And through all this, despite being engulfed by fire, the branches weren't burning!

More beasts tried to climb through the entwining trees, but only ended up trapped and pierced in the tangle of thorns. Even their breaths did nothing to free them or halt their impending demise. In a cacophony of groaning wood and crunching bones, the hole was filled with an almost woven network of briar and timber. The rapid growth came to a stop as the last of the green flames were snuffed out.

"Whoa… Did Connor do that?" Issei wondered aloud.

"Probably, let's just finish this!" Rias was quick to shut down any discussion.

"Boost!"

The tide of battle had suddenly turned, and the beasts realized that, too. There was a newfound sense of panic in their movements, they were hesitating. Heads snapped from side to side, as if searching for an escape, only to find none.

"Allow me."

Shifting Excalibur Destruction solely into her left hand, Xenovia closed her eyes and stood up straight, holding out her now empty right hand evenly with shoulders.

"Saint Peter, Saint Basil the Great, Saint Denis, and Blessed Virgin Mary, hear my prayer," she chanted.

In front of her hand, a pale gold magic appeared, shimmering and rippling like water as the hilt of a sword bound in chains emerged from its center.

Something about this set off the pack; the roughly three dozen beasts snarled in unison and charged the team from all sides in a panicked rush.

"Hold them off!" Akeno shouted.

Slamming her hands into the ground, Rias unleashed a wave of Destruction that collapsed the earth around the team, forcing some of the beasts to break off their attack. Those that managed to slip through were beaten back, thrown aside and blasted away by Issei, Koneko and Akeno respectively.

"I beseech in thy names: release the indomitable blade."

Xenovia took hold of the hilt and tugged, shattering the chains and setting their captive free. With a flourish, she drew her new weapon fully from the circle, revealing a huge, blue-bladed sword bearing a single golden edge and a semicircular guard over the hilt. In its entirety, the colossal sword looked to be longer than its wielder was tall, and the holy power that seemed to radiate from it made Issei sweat.

Even so, he couldn't stop himself from gawking. He knew Xenovia was strong, but to be able to dual wield such heavy weapons was just ridiculous. What the hell was the Church feeding her?!

Twisting her wrist, the girl then chambered the blade to her left side and slid into a wide stance while pulling Destruction over her left shoulder. She opened her golden eyes to glare at the monstrous beasts surrounding her, gripping the hilt even tighter.

"Boost!"

Issei hissed as the incredible vibration of nearing his physical limit returned with a vengeance. He had already boosted and transferred his Gear's power to the others several times, and now being able to consistently hit a fourth boost had made a world of difference, but he was getting tired.

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, he hoped that this next one would be the last time.

"Xenovia, here!"

"Transfer!"

Aiming the Boosted Gear toward the exorcist, a beam of green light shot from the gauntlet and encased the greatsword in her right hand. The bluenette's eyes widened at the sudden power-up, but she maintained her stance as the light shifted and the blade turned from striking blue to a blinding white.

"Destroy them, Durandal!" (2)

"EVERYBODY UP!" Rias yelled while deploying her wings and taking to the sky, followed quickly by her fellow Devils.

No sooner was her line of sight clear, Xenovia spun in place and swung the sword from left to right, sweeping the entire field around her. An arc of light flashed from the blade's edge and, in the next instant, everything exploded. A calamitous chain of blasts eclipsed Kokabiel's first light spear in intensity, and forced Issei to cover his face, both from the light and the deafening bursts of sound.

When Issei's hearing finally returned and he pried his eyes open, he stared in awe at the devastation. Trees were reduced to splinters, and large sections of the ground lay in chunks as if they had been carpet bombed. The huge pillar had also collapsed and crumbled, its remnants adding to the piles of rubble that lay beside the sealed pit. Similarly, parts of nearby buildings had been badly damaged, torn into shreds like one would expect to see in the wake of a natural disaster.

Amidst the debris, hounds lay where they fell in various states of mutilation; dismembered, bisected, beheaded, but in all, not one was left alive. Their bodies decomposed and burned away, briefly painting the athletic grounds in green before vanishing in a flurry of gray.

A dead silence fell over the once chaotic battlefield. One by one, the Gremory peerage returned to (somewhat) solid ground beside the now kneeling exorcist, Kiba being the last.

"Durandal…" the Knight exhaled, "the treasured holy sword of Roland."

"You had that in your pocket the whole time?!" Issei exclaimed.

"Yes. I would have brought it up sooner, but I haven't mastered using it yet, so it's hard to control for–." The huge sword began shaking, causing her to drop Destruction and use both hands to wrangle the unruly weapon like it was a wild animal. "Longer than a… few minutes… nnggh, stop it!… You've done your job!"

Issei took a few cautious steps away, as did several others, in the event her grip faltered.

While stepping back, he noticed that the sounds of combat in the air above them had stopped as well. He glanced up and saw Kokabiel glaring down at them, or more accurately, at the sword Xenovia was fighting to hold. His eyes were wide with anger, and his breathing was hoarse, as if he was trying to glare Durandal into nonexistence.

Serafall, meanwhile, looked none the worse for wear. It seemed to Issei that the skirmish overhead did little more to either combatant than dirty their clothing, despite the explosions and magic being fired between the two sounding like a full-scale war. Furthermore, she had been in complete control of their battle, the ice barrier having held fast against every light weapon or brand of magic he'd thrown at it.

A chuckle from Serafall broke Kokabiel from his furious reverie.

"Life comes at you fast, eh, Kokky-kun?"

The contemptuous smile she wore drove the Cadre to grind his teeth in fury. But before he could venomously spit back at her, a new voice came from above them.

"Couldn't agree more."

All eyes turned up just in time to see Sona's barrier begin collapsing, starting from the summit and crumbling apart like flakes of glass. As it did, something flew down from the normalizing night sky at high speed and slammed into Kokabiel. The Cadre's body hit Serafall's barrier with such force that he smashed right through it and continued into the ground, fracturing the site of impact into an enormous crater.

Seconds later, Kokabiel flew out of the crater, though not of his own volition. He rolled and tumbled several times, then slid to a stop face-down in the dirt. Only after he regained some control of his movements did the Cadre let out an agonized scream.

"AAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Looking closer, Issei realized with slight horror that two of Kokabiel's wings were missing. Quite violently ripped from his back, if the visibly torn skin and large quantity of blood was any clue.

Following the blotches of red that dotted the ground along Kokabiel's trajectory, he saw a series of interconnected blue lights illuminating the dust cloud from within and moving slowly forward. A figure took shape as they exited the cloud, the lights that followed drawing all attention to it.

It was a man covered from head to toe in pure white armor, which bore deep blue orbs on his chest, shoulders, arms and kneecaps. Skeletal white limbs jutted from his back, and sharp plumes of blue light resembling feathers hung down from these limbs to give the shape of dragon-like wings. In addition, a long tail –or what Issei guessed was a tail– was connected to the center of the spine, right between the junction of his wings.

Flicking his wrists, the man casually tossed aside something he had been holding in his clawed gauntlets: Kokabiel's missing, bloodied wings. He then turned his head to look up at Serafall, regarding her for a moment.

"Apologies, Lady Leviathan, but I'm afraid that I can't let you bully this idiot any further," he crisply stated. "There are some important parties that want a word with him."

Nobody said anything, too taken aback by the sudden appearance of this new element to impede his march. His clattering armor, accompanied by the crackle of Serafall's ice barrier breaking down, echoed in Issei's ears.

Kokabiel pushed himself back to his feet, wracked with pain as blood flowed from the bases of his amputated wings. Looking up to the armored figure, his visage turned into a demonic sneer.

"Vanishing Dragon?! Are you getting in my way now as well?!" the Cadre yelled.

"Is that a trick question?" The 'Vanishing Dragon' replied, stopping and derisively tilting his head. "How could I get any more in your way than you've already gotten in your own?"

"RAAAAAAAGH!"

The irate Fallen Angel manifested another spear in his hands and charged the white-clad man at full speed. His new target, however, remained where he stood, making no move to defend against the attack except to raise an arm and point at Kokabiel.

"DIVIDE!" a loud, booming voice suddenly echoed across the battlefield.

As if he'd been shot, Kokabiel's charge faltered. He swayed in the air and fought to maintain balance, leaving an opening that his new adversary was quick to exploit. In a burst of speed that Issei couldn't follow, the man closed the distance to his target and drove his armored right knee into the Cadre's gut, practically stabbing him with the sharpened tip. Spittle and blood flew from Kokabiel's mouth as the air left his lungs.

It didn't end there, though. Grabbing Kokabiel by the jaw, the 'Dragon' turned around and tossed him back into the air, then shot up to meet him at the highest point of his unwilling flight. Taking hold of Kokabiel's neck, the pair pitched downward and slammed into the ground again, once more fracturing the earth and sending a geyser of dust and debris skyward.

"Azazel was right," the 'Dragon' commented, standing up straight with Kokabiel still in his grasp. "You're at the end of your pitiful rope, which is a damn shame, really. If you had put just a little bit more planning into it, you might have actually pulled this off."

"DIVIDE!" the bodiless voice bellowed again.

The Cadre gasped and choked against the grip on his neck, the enormous power he had previously displayed against Serafall now gone; reduced to frail struggling.

"But I suppose even the best warriors can make stupid decisions in desperation."

"Damn you!" he managed to spit, glaring with all the hate he could muster at his vanquisher. "A filthy half-breed like you could never understand!"

"No, and I don't care to understand. It's not in my job description."

"DIVIDE!"

The figure clenched his open hand and threw it into Kokabiel's chest with the concussive force of a pile driver, finally knocking the warmongering Fallen out cold. The Cadre slumped lifelessly, only to be slung over the man's shoulder as if he were truly just a corpse.

"Cleanup duty is usually beneath me as well but, every now and then, I'll make an exception." The armored man then turned, sweeping through the crowd of onlookers until his gaze landed on Issei. "Besides, I had to see for myself if it was true. The Boosted Gear has finally manifested again, yet it's in the hands of a newbie Devil? I was prepared for the worst, but I really shouldn't have bothered hoping for the best."

"Hey, what the hell's that supposed to mean?" Issei demanded, already sick of this guy's dismissive attitude.

A deep growl emanated from the Boosted Gear as its emerald orb lit up.

"It means that Albion has groomed himself yet another battle junkie to perfectly match his pasty, arrogant ass!" Ddraig exclaimed.

The cobalt orbs on the man's armor began to pulse and glow in a similar fashion.

"That's rich, coming from you, Ddraig," the booming voice from earlier snapped. "I may be arrogant, but I've earned that right by staying at the top all these years. How many weaklings have you gone through just to satisfy your criteria for the 'ultimate underdog?' How many more before you finally find 'the One?'"

"At least I've come to enjoy trying new things, unlike you, who can't stand the thought of change," Ddraig fired back, "How have you not lost your mind with running the exact same gimmick for century after century?"

"As a wise human once said: 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.'"

"Oh, well, I suppose that works for one so limited in scope as you, you uninspired windbag!"

"Name-calling will get you nowhere, just like the jack-of-all-trades approach has gotten you no closer to true domination! If I'm sick of anything, Ddraig, it's waiting on you to pick a damned lane!"

The two voices went back and forth for another whole minute, trading insults and mocking one another for mistakes and faults that grossly downplayed the scale of the events mentioned. Killing thousands, burning down entire towns, stealing from someone named 'Tiamat' – the list went on and steadily got worse. By the time they stopped arguing for longer that ten seconds, Issei finally mustered the courage to break the tension while Serafall touched down beside Rias.

"Uhh… I take it you two know each other?"

"Issei, to know Albion is to both love and hate Albion," Ddraig answered. "He's my eternal rival, and the being known as the Vanishing Dragon or White Dragon Emperor of Supremacy. The man you see before you is the wielder of Divine Dividing, the polar opposite of the Boosted Gear in almost every way. Much like with me, Albion was sealed into that thing after one of our more exciting battles got out of hand."

Issei's eyes widened. "Wait, so… that guy you've been dropping hints about all the time? This is him?"

"In the flesh, or rather, that of his newest host."

A contemplative hum reverberated from the white-clad Sacred Gear user.

"I'm surprised at you, Ddraig. You haven't told your new 'partner' about me?"

"I wanted to spare him the headache," Ddraig deflected, "since the very mention of your name has that profound ability."

"Heh, so says the pot to the kettle," 'Albion' snorted with what sounded like playful contempt. "Now look, while I would love to catch up with an old friend, my partner's schedule is unfortunately short on free time, so we'll have to hold off on fighting for a while."

"Yeah, yeah, we can kill each other again later. If you've got nothing else to say, then just go on and git! Shoo, shoo!"

The White Dragon chortled, and the lights shining from the armor dimmed, putting an end to their banter. The lighter voice of the wielder returned with a chuckle.

"Well, that was interesting," he said mirthfully. "I have never heard Albion talk that way before! I guess if he and Ddraig can't fight physically, they resort to verbal boxing."

"Er… sure, I suppo–" Issei awkwardly began, but the man cut him off.

"They are correct, though; our paths will cross again, by their prompting or otherwise. When that happens, I hope you'll put up a much better fight than Kokabiel did. This was just boring."

Issei couldn't stop himself from flinching at the poorly veiled threat.

"If your business here is concluded, Vanishing Dragon, I suggest you be on your way," Serafall urged in a humorless tone that did not at all fit her current state of dress. "We have your runaway's mess to clean up."

Albion's host bowed his head to her in respect.

"Of course, Lady Leviathan. Once more, the Grigori offers its sincerest apologies for the trouble."

If the Grigori was truly sincere about the apology, Issei couldn't tell; just the way the guy had said that made it come off as a scripted line.

The armored man regarded Issei one last time, then took to the sky with Kokabiel in tow.

Nobody said anything for another five seconds, until Sona and all the members of her peerage arrived on the scene. While the majority went to the aid of Rias' team, Sona and Tsubaki approached Serafall.

"Sister, who was that?" she asked.

Serafall did not respond, other than to pensively lower her head.

"Sister?"

Sona was about to try a third time, only to recoil when a beaming Serafall suddenly threw her hands into the air and cheered.

"Yaaayy, we won!" Then in a flash, she swept up Sona into her arms and started bouncing around while spinning. "We won, So-tan, we won! We won!"

"S–sister! Let go of me!" Sona complained as her legs flailed about. It was a comical sight for the ages, especially considering who was the taller of the two.

"Nuh-uh! We're gonna celebrate!" The Satan stopped jumping and held her sister at arms length, stars in her eyes. "Let's throw a dance-your-pants-off party in the gym after the photo shoot! Then after that, we can all play games, snuggle and make out until the break of dawn!"

Saji's own eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Wait, what?"

"SERA!"

The Satan just laughed and resuming spinning once more, heedless of the Sitri heiress' distress and her Queen's attempts to pacify the interaction.

Smiles of pity, amusement, relief and joy began to bloom across everyone's faces, except for Issei's.

The battle had been won, and in probably the best way possible –with no casualties– but it didn't feel like a total victory to Issei. At the forefront of his mind, all he could feel was… disappointment. And dread.

He and the others had only been spared facing Kokabiel themselves due to Serafall, and while she hadn't given him the battle he wanted, that was not to say that the Cadre was weak. His first shot at the gym was proof that anyone less powerful than Serafall stood no chance against him; he could have obliterated them all as an afterthought.

So for this 'white knight' to just come out of nowhere and kick Kokabiel's ass, then challenge Issei like he was on the same level was just frustrating.

"Hey, Ddraig."

"Yeah?"

"…I'm really gonna have to fight him, aren't I?"

"Yes, you will, and don't put it past him to find a way to force your hand if you refuse," the Red Dragon warned. "Thanks to these Gears, Albion and I can't die, even though our real bodies are long gone. We're destined to fight forever, along with our hosts."

"Now, so am I, huh?" the Pawn quietly lamented, unaware of the conversation catching Kiba's attention. "So what do I do?"

"All you can do is prepare, and if today is any indicator, we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

"Obviously…"

---

Connor hadn't stuck around for any sort of celebration.

After Caster had done his work on the pit and vanished once again, he had ducked back into the woods to avoid being spotted by Kokabiel. In doing so, he had also saved himself from getting caught in the crossfire of Xenovia's final attack.

With the arrival of the man in white and his beat down of Kokabiel, the situation was well and truly contained. At that point, he and Caster left before anyone could take further notice of the magus' presence. Assassin volunteered to stay behind and continue monitoring the situation, with the intent of giving a full report later.

In a text discussion prior to nightfall, he and Tobio agreed to meet up halfway between his apartment and the north part of town. Ironically, it was at the same spot they had originally met; the park fountain where Connor first became involved in the supernatural events in Kuoh. At that late hour, absolutely no one else would be around, especially not the Devils since they were busy with damage control.

As he'd come to expect by that point, Tobio was already there by the time he arrived, albeit dressed in a casual attire the magus had yet to see prior. The black hoodie coupled with dark gray pants and shoes allowed him to blend into his current environment with hardly any effort.

"Has the loose end been tied up?" Connor asked.

Tobio nodded. "Yeah, and Galilei?"

"He went to his reward. The body's still where Kiba left it a little ways from the academy. Wasn't sure if you wanted to handle cleanup there or not."

"I decided to let the Devils have it. They've got a big enough case against the Grigori; if their kill suddenly vanishes without a trace, it would give them reason to suspect we were hiding something worse."

"Hmm." One could make a similar argument about Sellzen, but since he was the more dangerous of Kokabiel's followers, it was likely more prudent to dispose of him quickly.

"And the swords?"

Wordlessly, Tobio looked to his right as his shadow pocket opened up. He reached in and rummaged for a bit before pulling out a long bundle wrapped in a dark green piece of canvas. The agent then laid it down on the grass and unfurled the tarp, revealing its contents.

Connor shook his head. He would never have guessed that these things were crafted from the same source material, since none of them looked alike in any way. From left to right was a gigantic misshapen kris dagger, a broadsword with way too big of a handle, and what seemed like a metal-coated party streamer fixed to a scimitar hilt.

"Damn, these things are ugly."

"Well, what can you do?" Tobio shrugged, then rolled up the swords. "You got it from here?"

"Yeah, I think I can manage," the magus deadpanned, taking the load under one arm.

"Great, then I'll just vanish before the smoke clears."

Instead of making use of his shadow portal like before, Tobio simply turned and walked back toward town. He hadn't gone more than a few meters before he seemed to vanish into the darkness.

Connor stood in place for several seconds, before Caster exited spirit form beside him.

"Everything alright?" the spirit inquired.

The magus' free hand found its way into his pocket, the fingers idly brushing the confiscated Holy Element.

"Yeah, just thinking. Other than a couple of things to do as follow-up…" he looked to Caster and smiled. "I'd say it's mission accomplished."

'Grímnir' smirked. "Feels good to say out loud, doesn't it?"

It really did.

---

…

(1): In the spirit of going off the beaten path, I opted for a kind of monster that's larger in number and just as malevolent to the living. Those who have played The Witcher III's Blood and Wine expansion might recognize them by the description.

(2): I reworked her chant to sound more like that of a Noble Phantasm, because why the hell not?

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 22: Lost Souls

Once Serafall calmed down enough to stop spinning around in exuberant celebration, she took full command.

Between the damage done by a Boosted Durandal and the battle waged by Rias's peerage and Kokabiel's hounds, it would take time to clean up and repair everything. Even the use of magic would be a slow process due to the holy sword's lingering effects. To Devils, it was like dealing with irradiated waste; close proximity was enough to cause adverse health effects in moments.

Only Serafall had a strong measure of resistance thanks to her immense demonic power. So, while she dealt with the worst area (the gym), she instructed the others to work everywhere else in pairs after casting a spell she created to shield everyone from the light-based fallout.

Sona would have stood in proud admiration of the display in leadership by her elder sister, if not for one detail.

Serafall hadn't let go of Sona the entire time, taking to carrying her younger sister under one arm as she handed out orders to the servants of either peerage. Every step the Leviathan took bounced Sona to and fro, and anyone looking from behind had the chance to glimpse what lay underneath the school uniform's short skirt.

For the Sitri heiress to be hauled around like an unruly child in front of her own peerage–it was utterly mortifying!

“Sister…”

“Yes, So-tan?” The Satan answered eagerly.

“Isn't it about time that you let go of–”

“NO!”

And just like that, Sona was enveloped in another back-popping bear hug.

“No letting go! So-tan is mine to protect and hold! What if there's a second wave?! What if the Angels attack next?! Gabriel might take a cheap shot! And– actually, no, she definitely would, but that's why the One So-tan must be protected!”

Rias, who had been pulled aside to await her brother's arrival, looked torn between wanting to laugh at Sona's expense or help her friend out of the predicament. She knew full well what it was like to have a sibling whose embarrassing displays of affection bordered on smothering.

Sona's degradation would unfortunately continue, as a crimson teleportation sigil of House Gremory appeared beside Serafall. Sirzechs Lucifer slowly emerged from the circle, clad in the armor set that he wore for pitched battle. Beside him was his Queen and wife, Grayfia Lucifuge.

Upon seeing his colleague, the Satan Lucifer's lips formed into a halfhearted pout.

“No fair, Serafall. You leave me with a note to cover for you and your mountains of paperwork back in the Underworld, which forces Grayfia to cover for me and my pile in turn. And when I finally get things sorted enough to come help, you're getting quality cuddle time with your sister before I can even speak to mine? That's cheating!”

It was Rias' turn to blush now, her face matching her hair in seconds.

“Lord Lucifer, conduct yourself as your station demands,” Grayfia reprimanded, stern as ever.

“But Grayfia, she got to have all the fun today!” he whined childishly to his Queen. “Don't I deserve a break once in a while, too?”

“Lord Lucifer.”

The silver-haired maid shut him down, exuding a small portion of her power and dropping the ambient temperature around the gathered Devils. Frost began to form underneath her feet as she maintained her gaze upon her King.

Sona could tell that her sister wanted to say something that would throw more fuel on the fire for Sirzechs, but held her tongue. Instead, Serafall finally set Sona back on her feet, dusting off her uniform and inspecting for 'potential dangers.'

“Fiiiinee… Later, then.” Sirzechs glanced around and clapped his hands together. “Well, it looks to me like everything's under control here, so let's get this show on the road, shall we? Debrief time.”

“I'm not sure how much we can give, since we ourselves don't have the whole story,” Sona supplied.

Sirzechs smiled. “Tell us what you have, anyway.”

So they did. Rias started from the arrival of the exorcist duo, outlining their mission, Quarta's impromptu duel with Kiba, and her Knight's unauthorized leave of absence. Both girls then gave their accounts of the notes sent to them by Connor and Kiba regarding the events after the confrontation with Freed and Valper.

At this point, Serafall joined in and explained the plan to trap Kokabiel. Even while battling the Cadre, she was able to stay keenly aware of the situation happening below. The earth pillar and the portal's sealing had surprised everyone, but the appearance of Divine Dividing's host eclipsed the unseen aid quickly.

By the end, Sirzechs looked down contemplatively with a hand on his chin.

“The White Dragon Emperor…” he pondered. “Troubling as it is to hear that Lord Ddraig's warning was true, it's good to know that the Grigori are taking their part in this seriously. Not that doing so now does them any favors.”

“Of course not! Stupid Azzy-kun, causing trouble for my So-tan,” Serafall grumbled, crossing her arms underneath her large bust. “He's getting one hell of a reparation bill over this! I'll slap him so hard with it, his head will unscrew and fly right off!”

“Please refrain from beheading the Grigori's Governor-General, Lady Leviathan. It would cause far more trouble for both you and Lord Lucifer.”

“I'm only joking, Gray-chan. I'll settle for a concussion.”

Turning on a dime once more, Serafall whipped around and stepped right into Sona's personal space. That was nothing new for her, but the way she grinned reminded Sona of a wound-up puppy.

“So, when do we get to meet him? When do we get to meet him?!”

Sona blinked. Sirzechs appeared just as expectant of an answer, although he stood much more contained than his counterpart.

“Um… Meet who, exactly?” she asked cautiously.

“Your magus friend, of course.” Sirzechs clarified. “Based on yours and Rias' testimony, this little playground scuffle would've been far worse if it wasn't for his meddling. Even if one boiled his… well, most of his actions down to simply buying you both time, it was time that you spent effectively.”

“After everything I've heard about him, I've just gotta put a name to a face now!” Serafall beamed. “He sounds like a lot of fun!”

Dread formed in the pit of Sona's stomach, irrespective of the inevitability of Serafall causing her further social distress. With two Satans now involved, she had little choice in the matter. She was going to be presenting the magus to the world of Devil politics and poshness that he had already rejected. But worse than that, she would be directly exposing him to the incarnation of Chaotic Neutral that was her elder sister.

Serafall smiled and wagged a finger in Sona's face.

“Nuh-uh-uh, So-tan. I know what you're thinking. This is now the second time that your buddy has helped you out in a pinch that could've ended very badly for you and Ria-tan. We obliged his request for anonymity the first time, but this is just too big of a repeat to ignore.”

“An unaffiliated human helps foil a rogue Cadre's plot to assassinate not one, but two heiresses; not even we can pull that wool over the Pillars' eyes,” Sirzechs added. “And it's not like we'll be throwing him to the wolves, but his actions deserve some recognition at this point. You said it yourself: We don't have the whole story, and I, for one, would like to know how he came to learn about Kokabiel's plan the way he did.”

Serafall next put her finger on Sona's chest.

“Officially or not, So-tan, you will introduce him to us.”

Cold sweat gathered on Sona's brow as she struggled to reply, but nothing came to her. She was not prepared for this approach from her sister; the Leviathan usually just threw a tantrum to get her way.

“If I may,” Rias interjected. “Given that Mr. Lochlainn is a very private individual, I think it would be best if you were to meet him without any kind of fanfare.”

“That's fine.” Sirzechs nodded, diminishing the Sitri heiress' worry slightly. “We would be remiss if we caused trouble for him after he helped us with our own dilemma.”

Sona stole a glance to Rias, who gave her old friend an apologetic smile and a wink.

That was it, then. The Sitri heiress could no longer cover for him; the magus would have to advocate for himself to the Satans now–and hope he survived the encounter.

'I'm sorry, Mr. Lochlainn.'

---

Classes at Kuoh Academy had resumed as usual on Saturday morning, which was impressive when considering the 'possible gas leak' that occurred not even a full day before. Rumors about the real reason flew for about the first hour or so before everyone settled back into the normal routine again.

It never ceased to amaze Connor that the absolute most clichéd excuse in the history of cover-ups, 'gas leaks,' somehow managed to remain effective. At least for those that couldn't pick up on the bullshit on a TV screen.

Once lunch came around and classes were dismissed, students were quick to file off campus and begin enjoying their weekend. The magus, however, had further business to attend to before returning home for another of Caster's weekly torture sessions.

This business led him and an invisible Assassin to the front steps of the Occult Research Club's dormitory. His spectral bodyguard had insisted on remaining by his side in the wake of the battle, and he saw no reason to deny her. He did, however, ordain her and Caster to switch out every other day for the sake of magical energy usage. Their differing rates of consumption made for good cyclical training throughout the day.

Due to the absence of a doorbell on the old building, he knocked five times on the large double door and stepped back to await a reply.

After about ten seconds, the door opened and out stepped Akeno, dressed in traditional Japanese attire that looked really good on her. A light blue yukata decorated with bright sakura floral patterns covered her from shoulders to shins, and a white obi was tied elegantly around her waist. The whole outfit gave the impression that one was watching the sky on a sunny spring day.

“Oh my~ Hello to you, Mr. Lochlainn,” she greeted, slipping right into the classic Yamato Nadeshiko mannerisms of a gentle, mature young woman. “What brings you here on this lovely day?”

“Afternoon. I'm just going around, seeing how everybody’s doing after yesterday’s, er… activities.”

“Oh~ Making the rounds, are we? How very thorough of you. Rigorous, even~” Her smile widened, cupping her cheek in one hand and tittering at his raised eyebrow before standing back up straight. “Thankfully, beyond some scratches here and there, we walked away without much injury. Although, everyone is terrifically tired. Fighting off an endless horde of monsters for any amount of time can quite easily wear one down.”

“I'll bet.” He knew the feeling quite well, actually. “And having to go to school right after just twists the knife even further, doesn't it?”

“Mmm~ It's just excruciating~” She let out a moan that was more sensual than playful. “We were all so busy with cleanup last night, Buchō and I have only just found the time to punish our dear Knight for his bad behavior.”

“Right… uh, hey, speaking of Kiba, there’s something I need to talk with him about. Is he here right now?”

The busty teen tilted her head slightly, though her smile remained.

“He is. Give me a moment to fetch him.”

The Gremory Queen bowed and demurely closed the door. While he waited, Connor leaned on one leg and put his hand into his pocket to withdrew the item that he'd brought for this errand. It would be another twenty seconds before the door creaked open once more and a casually dressed Kiba appeared.

Very slowly and stiffly, at that.

“Mr. Lochlainn… good to see you again.” His words were as strained as his stance, as was the bow he attempted to give to the magus, but achingly stopped halfway. “Nn…gugh…”

“You okay?” Connor asked.

“I'm fine, don't worry,” the younger teen nodded. “It's just that Buchō doesn't take kindly to us working behind her back on certain things. I did, and… damned if I'm not paying for it.”

Connor didn't miss the hand that went to the Devil's back, or rather, his backside.

“If you say so. Well, with everything else that happened, I wanted to swing by and see how were doing mentally. I mean, you were really out of it yesterday, I had to put some force behind that slap.”

Kiba chuckled awkwardly as a hand went to the back of his head. “Oh, that. Yes, I'm… I'm sorry you had to do that in the first place. I was distracted.”

“I know, I was there. Not to rag on you, but that was a pretty serious distraction.”

“Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I killed the bastard. Now, I know for certain that he can't hurt anyone else again.” Kiba's brow furrowed, and his hand dropped down to his neck. “But… I still feel like there was… something missing… like something I should’ve done, but… I didn’t.”

“You know the old saying about what to do before going on journeys of revenge?” Kiba nodded. “Well, it sounds to me like Galilei got his dues before you got to digging that second grave.”

The blonde shrugged, evidently not convinced but having no other plausible theories to suggest.

“But then again…” Connor turned his hand over, revealing the crystalline object in its grasp. “It might have more to do with this.”

“What is that?” the Knight asked.

“It’s a type of catalyst the Church plants into their exorcists to make them capable of using holy swords,” the magus explained. “Galilei had this one on his person when you killed him.”

He held up his free hand as Kiba's curiosity shifted to suspicion.

“Now look, I don't know for sure why he even had it; maybe Freed would need it if they managed to fuse the Excaliburs as they planned, but that doesn't matter now. The more crucial point here is this thing's composition.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“From how I understand it, the Church takes a genetic sample from compatible people, through some sanctified alchemy, to make the crystals they use today for their most promising holy sword candidates. Galilei, however, used a Western Curse Art that molded human souls into a suitable power source that would artificially strengthen the recipient. Far greater output but with a much steeper price, not that I imagine he cared anything for the latter.”

The ash blonde’s immediate reaction was to wrinkle his nose and look at the crystal with abject disgust. His eyes darted back and forth between the crystal and the magus holding it, before they widened in horror as the realization crashed down on him.

“Are you…”

Connor's flat expression softened in a silent confirmation; the victims of the Project still lived, imprisoned after their bodies died. Sixteen, by his count, all beckoning for someone called 'Isaiah.'

Connect the dots, and there could only be one person that name referred to.

“That… They…”

“For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. If there was an easier way to tell you all this, I would've done it.”

Connor held the crystal forward, signaling for Kiba to take it.Being that it was a creation of man that was not blessed by God, he doubted that touching the element in this state would cause harm to a Devil. Just to be sure of his theory, though, he had run it by Caster the night before.

Slowly, the Knight held out his hands, almost flinching when the crystal gently met his palms. His thumbs delicately traced across its smooth surfaces, as if in fear that the slightest excess of pressure could shatter this remnant of his past in a million pieces. With how much his hands were trembling, it was beyond lucky that he didn't end up dropping the thing onto the concrete below him.

“I haven't done anything with this, other than to analyze it and double-check, so don't worry. Tampering with souls is… outside my wheelhouse.”

Kiba looked back up to him and stared with wide grey eyes, liquid collecting along the edges.

“Again, I'm sorry…”

The magus had nothing else to offer. What else could he say that would change anything or make it better? What solace could he give to someone who had suffered what no one ever should?

At least in Kiba's possession, the souls of his friends had no chance of being misused. Not even by Connor.

Taking the awkward silence as his cue to go, Connor turned and began to walk away.

“Thank you…”

…

It was so quiet that he almost didn't hear it. Glancing back, he gave a small nod.

He had told Kiba to hold his gratitude before and, unlike last time, now felt like a more appropriate time to accept it.

“…You're welcome.”

---

Rias watched purposely from the meeting room window as Connor ventured back to the main school building. A sudden northern breeze fluttered her crimson hair and white cotton blouse, giving her a slight chill but not enough to break her from her thoughts.

The heiress of House Gremory didn't know how to feel about the American magus anymore. It wasn't about that meeting or how much closer he was with Sona and her peerage, she had long since gotten past that; however, while she was grateful for his aid, she still found it very difficult to trust him.

On the other hand, his apparent choice to not form a pact with Sona was another matter entirely. With a magic pact between a magician and a High-class Devil, the terms were more negotiable than they were with a King and their peerage member. Both parties could set the details however they saw fit, and even terminate the deal and go their separate ways if things didn't work out; everybody won. Arguably, the magician had far more to gain than the Devil ever could, like protection and access to old knowledge.

And yet, despite this, Connor remained a free agent. She didn't know if this was simply because Sona never made the offer or if he was just being outrageously stubborn in his will to be independent. She was willing to bet on the latter. His refusal to become a Devil was a response based on logic, but he would probably still decline reincarnation even if he was knocking on death's door.

Such hardheadedness was, if she were being completely honest, a reminder of her own conduct from her now-annulled marriage. How long had she held out against the arrangement on some off chance that she would find a way out? How many times in the last year alone had she put her foot down until she couldn't?

From her point of view, she had perfectly good reasons to object to people's expectations of her. But, looking at it from an outside perspective, that behavior just seemed silly and irrational. It made the magus relatable, strangely, though not in a manner that she had any strong desire to be reminded of every day.

Having him as a peerage member would not have worked out well; he was just too bull-headed, which was a pity, because he'd more than proven to be a capable ally under the right circumstances.

Sona had been correct in her testimony to Sirzechs and Serafall; the battle had been all but won thanks to the magus' intervention. No matter how Rias tried to visualize other scenarios, there was no other way the outcome could have been so favorable. Without Serafall present to fight Kokabiel, the Cadre would certainly have killed them all, if the ceaseless pack of hellhounds hadn't done so first.

At the end of the day, the fact remained that Connor had gone out of his way to warn them of the planned attack. Now, everyone in her peerage seemed to believe that he was a solid guy. Even the previously ambivalent Akeno was in favor of him, though not for anything more than the opportunity to tease him like she did everyone else.

It made Rias wonder with a smirk what a flustered Connor would even look like. She had heard that he was resistant to Aika Kiryū's wise cracks and innuendos. What would a more direct approach do? Her Queen would certainly have fun testing the waters there; no one could resist her forever.

Before she could further contemplate that scenario, the meeting room door opened, and a crestfallen Yūto –followed by a solemn Akeno– walked in.

“Yūto?” she asked, but heard no reply. She pushed off from the wall and approached him. “Yūto, what's wrong?”

Only when she was directly in front of him did she noticed something. In Yūto's hand was a strange blue crystal, and the way he cradled and beheld the thing gave the impression that it was worth more to him than the world's most priceless gem.

“I… I–I didn't…” he mumbled, utterly lost to his thoughts while tears gathered and threatened to fall.

Rias shot a glance to Akeno, who merely shook her head resignedly. She must have already tried and failed to coax out what was on Yūto's mind. Not seeing many other options at the moment, the redheaded King put her arms around her loyal Knight and slowly brought him close to her.

Yūto didn't respond at first. She was about to ask again, but he suddenly leaned into her embrace and broke into heaving sobs. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his tears spilling out and soaking into her blouse. His own arms came around the small of her back and tightly locked together.

This was a shock to Rias. In the five years since coming to terms with his role as her servant, he had never let out this much raw emotion all at once. He had talked with her plenty of times, confided in her, but had always maintained an air of calm serenity.

Until now, he had never allowed himself to let go of the pain.

Silently, she maintained her hold and allowed her little brother, in all but blood, to weep.

---

The next morning, Connor, Asia and the exorcist duo sat side by side together on a bus stop bench east of town. The sun was already up, casting its rays upon the group from in between breaks in the clouds.

Because Kuoh Town didn't have an airport or even a nearby train station, the partners would have to take a bus to Nerima City proper, then take public transit to Haneda Airport south of Tokyo. The whole trip would take anywhere from ninety minutes to two hours, and they needed to pack and leave early since international flights were run on a very tight schedule.

“You really didn't have to come see us off, you know,” Irina commented, twirling part of the ‘ribbon’ tied to her left bicep. “We can handle this much ourselves.”

Connor had on a t-shirt and dark denim pants; Asia sat comfortably in a long summer dress, and the girls wore sets of casual light shirts and jean shorts which Asia had loaned for the sake of their trip home. She worried that they wouldn't be big enough, on account of the body size differences between the three girls, but they worked just fine for the pair. Xenovia, however, had gone to the effort of recovering her white cloak to cover herself. Old habit, Connor supposed.

The remaining pieces of Excalibur, now bundled together in a similar cloth that Destruction first bore, were propped against Xenovia’s shoulder as she sat farthest from the magus. Curiously, all of the swords were still intact, as it seemed that Kiba had reneged on his deal with the exorcists to destroy one in exchange for the Devils' aid.

“I’m sure you could,” Connor replied, “but you know full well that Asia here won’t let you go without a proper goodbye.”

The golden blonde in question smiled shyly at the comment, starkly contrasting her conduct over the last two days. She had been bold in her insistence to house her sisters in faith, outright refusing to allow them to fend for themselves any longer. She had even personally pleaded their case to Watanabe, not quite lying about their situation but still feeling guilty about not being allowed to tell the truth.

It was as close to the dark side as the little cinnamon roll hoped she would need to get.

“Yeah.” Irina smiled, gently nudging the nun beside her. “That would be pretty cold of her.”

“But what about you?” Xenovia asked Connor across the way. Though less forceful than she was at the old shed, her golden eyes still bored into him. “Why did you come to see us off?”

“There's something I need you two to do before you go.” He waited for the two to pay close attention before leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “When you make your report to your higher-ups, I'd like for you to keep mine and Asia's names out of it, if at all possible.”

The duo looked to each other, then back to Connor.

“Why?” Irina asked. “What harm would there be in mentioning you, especially after how you helped?”

“You're not expecting us to lie, are you?” Xenovia added.

“Never said that,” Connor denied, shaking his head, “but if someone asks, just tell them God had some Good Samaritans in place to help when you needed it. And if you have to tell the whole truth, let it be to someone you both trust implicitly to keep a secret.”

“Okay, but why? You didn't answer that,” Irina pressed.

“It's for Asia's sake as much as my own. She's still branded a heretic in the Vatican, and I'd rather someone not come all the way out here just to smite her. All the worse if she's in the company of a 'pagan.' Executors do a lot worse for a lot less.”

Xenovia thinned her lips and Irina looked away, both unable to argue against that.

If exorcists were meant to be the Church's public representatives, executors were its black ops force. Wholly comprised of modern day inquisitors, it was a group whose department existed for the sole purpose of destroying supernatural or heretical threats to the Church. What made them so notorious in that aspect was their ability to act with complete autonomy from the ecclesiastical hierarchy while on the job. Short of denouncing Yahweh and His authority, they would use any means they deemed necessary to complete their mission.

Even if that meant crossing all manner of lines of their own faith.

Connor didn't know why at least one executor hadn't tried to kill Asia shortly after her excommunication, or if they did, why they hadn't succeeded. Maybe the order was just never issued, or the Church might have been too busy trying to find the hole in its defenses that let a Devil through in the first place. Either way, it had been a very good thing that the Grigori picked her up when they did.

Xenovia glanced to Asia, who was looking between everyone in nervous confusion. Connor laid his hand over hers, which helped to put her at ease.

“We'll be meeting with my guardian at the airport,” she supplied. “I can't promise anything, but she may be able to help with keeping you two from being named.”

“I'll hold you to it.” The magus checked his phone, then stood from his seat and turned to look west. “Well, it's 7:29 on the dot, so your ride should be here any seco– oh, there it is.”

The girls turned to look in the same direction, just as the vehicle in question came around the corner about a block away. It was a Nissan Civilian, which could more easily navigate Kuoh's narrow roads than the larger bus models that roamed Japan. Gradually, the single-decker minibus pulled up into the stop lane about five meters away, coming to a complete halt with a sharp *HISS* of the air brakes.

“Alright then!” Irina sprang up from her seat and attacked Connor with a sneak hug, then turned and latched onto Asia for an even longer hug just as the golden blonde stood up. Xenovia was the last to her feet, pulling the bundle of swords to hang across her back like Destruction while the bus's passenger door opened.

“Bye, guys! Thank you so much for everything! Take care!”

“You, too, and try not to spend all your money in one place next time,” Connor cautioned her, causing her fair cheeks to turn fluorescent red upon seeing his grin.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny!”

Turning with a huff, she stomped toward the bus with her arms held stiffly against her sides. A smug Connor looked to Xenovia, who just shook her head.

“You enjoy teasing her, don't you?” she asked, a ghost of amusement on her face.

“It does brighten my day but, in my defense, she makes it so easy. You oughta try it sometime.” Connor let his grin relax as he extended his hand to her. “Take care of yourself. And take care of her, too.”

“I have no choice in that, but thanks.” With a genuine smile, she accepted the proffered hand and shook it firmly. She then turned to Asia and made to do the same with her, but the exiled nun had other ideas.

Instead of another handshake, Xenovia found herself brought into a hug, not unlike with Irina.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you two,” Asia said, her chin resting on the shoulder opposite the swords.

Slowly at first, the bluenette brought her arms around the blonde and returned the embrace with all sincerity.

“So am I. God’s blessings be upon you both.” She broke from the hug and made the sign of the cross to Asia, who reciprocated.

Her farewells made, Xenovia readjusted the bundles on her back and joined Irina just as the last of the passengers disembarked at their stop. Irina turned and waved one last time before boarding, followed by Xenovia.

Asia cheerfully waved goodbye to her two newest friends, missing the expression on Connor's face change as the legendary snark of Caster resounded in his head.

'Just building bridges everywhere, huh?'

'Yeah, might as well. I need a good network of contacts, and opportunities like these don't come around very often. So far, I'm three for three on functional working relationships.'

'You sure that's not all you're after?'

Connor rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. That wouldn't work between us, anyway.'

'What, you mean Big Blue? Oh, no, that's a whole other can of worms. I was just referring to Girlie's ass. I saw your eyes glued to it as she walked away; filled those shorts out really nice, didn't she?'

His head snapped to the left slightly, casting a sideways glance to where Caster would be standing.

'Hey, no judgment here, kid. I've been your age before, and my teenage hormones hit me like a damn rock slide. You've already seen Girlie's girls, so now you're naturally inclined to be curious about her caboose. I'm just saying to be careful about inspecting another girl's goods while you're trying to court Little Lady. Could be embarrassing.'

He turned back to the blonde beside him. The bus had pulled out of sight by that point, and Asia had turned her gaze to look up at Connor inquisitively.

'I know, but thanks for the tip.'

'Happy to help. I've gotta hand it to them, though: From one thigh guy to another, they've both got some nice butts.'

A sharp wolf-whistle made the magus’ eyebrows twitched involuntarily, which the little nun caught.

“Is Caster being rude again?” she asked knowingly.

“Just his usual self, yeah.”

‘Me? Perish the thought, kid, but you are now one word away from getting your ass handed to you extra hard next Saturday.'

Connor could visualize Caster leering down at him with a sadistic grin.

'C'mon, one more word. Please.’

---

The journey home from the bus stop was a quiet one, at least between Master and Servant. Asia, on the other hand, couldn't stop herself from expressing her thoughts.

“Hey, Connor, if Irina and Xenovia were to stay in Kuoh, do you think they could attend the academy?”

“Hard to say,” the magus commented. “Their ties to the Church being what they are, I imagine there would have to be some pretty hefty conditions attached to whatever deal was swung.”

“But what if they did?” she continued, undeterred. “They're the same age as me, so what if they got into the same class? Oh! What if we formed a Bible study club?! Wait… I can do that now, can't I?”

“I think so, but there's a lot of paperwork involved with starting up a club of any kind. You'd also need at least three active members and a teacher to act as a sponsor in order to qualify for official school funding. Something else to pray for, I guess.”

“I'll do it!”

Her spirited declaration brought a small grin to Connor's face. He rather liked this side of Asia.

Even after spending just a few days with fellow believers in God, a fire had been lit in the girl's belly. Both her speech and her walk were more confident now than ever before. Before too long, all of her previous anxiety around people would be burnt away like so much kindling. He could picture her leading mass in a tiny chapel, but Caster had been the one to tease the idea of that chapel being located inside Kuoh Academy.

It made Connor want to see that happen, just to laugh at the irony. And Sona's reaction, that would definitely be worth witnessing, too!

Asia had throttled down by the time the apartment building came into view, but the gleam in her eye spoke of newfound resolve. She had a mission in mind, and looked ready to take a bold leap forward.

'Someone's gonna be busy on Monday.'

'Master, may I speak with you in private?'

The silent request from Assassin put a sudden stop to Connor's train of thought. His smile dropped and his pace faltered slightly, though not to where it was noticed by Asia.

As both teens cleared the steps to the breezeway, Asia marched to her apartment door slightly faster. The girl then unlocked and opened the door and quickly stepped inside, only peeking her head out to give a hasty goodbye.

“I'll see you in a little while, Connor!”

“See ya.”

She must have really wanted to get started on a list of club items. They were due for a trip to the shopping centers around the town square that evening, anyway, so it worked out well.

Entering his own apartment and removing his shoes, Connor followed the presence of Assassin to the bedroom. He stopped at the door and looked to where Caster was emerging from spirit form. The druid grabbed the TV remote and plopped himself onto the couch, then gave a dismissive wave to Connor. No doubt he had heard the request as well, but decided not to raise a fuss over it.

Did he know what this was about, then?

Looking into the bedroom, the magus took note that Assassin was also in physical form and kneeling in seiza toward the balcony. His entrance garnered no reaction, other than a slight movement of her head to indicate that she was active. Closing the door behind him, he scribed the sequence for a Bounded Field of Auditory Isolation on the wall, sealing the room of all outgoing sounds.

“Is something wrong?” he asked as the air pressure changed.

“No, but I require another perspective,” she explained, standing to her full height and turning to face him. “Before the Vanishing Dragon left with Kokabiel in tow, I noticed that Kokabiel had come awake, if only barely. And I heard him muttering something that I… still do not fully understand. I've thought about what it might mean, but I am unable to draw a suitable answer.”

Connor observed her facial movements; she was confused, and for that matter, so was he. This was the first he’d heard about anything like that.

“Why did you not include this in your initial report? What changed your mind? And why not have Caster know about this? Shouldn’t he?”

Assassin’s eyes flicked down briefly.

“Forgive me, Master, but I am… wary… of Caster. In my experience, retainers often hold agendas of their own while still following their lord's will.”

“You don’t think he's trying to manipulate me, do you?” he inquired, rather ill-at-ease by this change of topic.

“No,” she answered with conviction, “I have no doubts about both his abilities and his willingness to serve you, neither do I object to the tutelage he provides you if it means keeping you safe. Your will is our bodies, and your fate is our swords; the terms of the contract are absolute in this, but there are elements to it that concern me. Has Caster informed you about the Dream Cycle?”

“That whole thing about seeing each other's memories in dreams?” he asked, puzzled by the transition. She nodded. “Yeah, he mentioned that about… two days into his training regime. I never saw anything like that, though, and he never brought it up again, so I figured it was something else I messed up with his summoning.”

“Such conditions would have no bearing on the Cycle once the pact was sealed,” she clarified. “His connection to you via the Master-Servant bond is the same as mine, which means you may end up experiencing some of my memories in due time. As a karakuri doll, I am unable to sleep, so I can only speculate on the matter. While I understand that the nature of dreams is impossible to predict, Caster has been in your service for nearly a month. If you have not experienced any sort of visions that could denote his true identity, then perhaps he is actively preventing its occurrence.”

Connor thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. It wasn't difficult at all to picture Caster being capable of doing that with his magecraft, but…

“I can't imagine why. He said to my face that he wasn't ashamed of who he was. And if there was something he regretted about his life, he'd be open about it anyway.”

“I will defer to your judgment, Master,” she acquiesced. “It is not my intention to cause a rift between you and Caster; I would be compromising your well-being in doing so. But the possibility that he is withholding his memories from you should not be discounted or ignored.”

“Right, so where’re we going with this conversation, other than a tangent?”

“My point is this: Along with the semblance of a body, the memories and desires that a Heroic Spirit possessed in life also return. Whatever their reasons, no Servant would answer the summons unless they had other goals they wished to achieve for themselves. I am no exception.”

She paused again, and this time, her whole head tilted down to face the floor.

“A shinobi is one who endures. No matter the obstacle, the hardship or the sacrifice, they devote their life to what they perceive as a greater good. I was created to endure what no human could, but betrayal is a poison that very few can survive.”

Understanding dawned in Connor’s eyes as he made the connection.

During her service to Uesegi Kenshin, one of the lord's more paranoid retainers plotted to frame her and have her killed. Because of this, she was forced to flee and seek asylum with Takeda Shingen, another prominent daimyō who fought against Kenshin on numerous occasions. This warlord treated her with unmasked suspicion due to her previous work done for his rival, believing the shinobi to be a double-agent. While his ultimate betrayal and her 'execution' was likely his own decision, it could very well have been influenced by advisers and other subjects that saw her as too dangerous to tolerate.

In that tumultuous period of Japan's history, trust was more valuable than silver, and blood ran like water.

It was unfortunate that she would draw such a similarity between her past and the present, but Connor decided not to fault her. Betrayal cut deeper than any blade, right down to the soul. He couldn't force her to trust Caster but, for the sake of the future, her apprehensions would need to be allayed.

“I see. Well, you've got a selfish lord in me; I like to hold on to what I have. Hell, you’ll find actual packrats that have less of a hoarding issue than me, so don’t worry about being disposed.”

The automaton’s head tilted up slightly, and he barely caught a glimpse of the corner of her mouth moving slightly. Whether it was a response to the dumb joke or the statement itself, at least she was listening.

“But back to the matter at hand: What about Kokabiel made you reconsider?”

Assassin's gaze returned to squarely meet his once again. “I had deemed his last words as an irrelevant detail at the time, but further review suggests that there was something more personal to his desire for war than he claimed. The tone that he used in that moment did not seem like rage, scorn or mockery; it was more akin to anguish, perhaps even despair.”

Connor scratched his chin. Anguish? Despair? That didn't sound like Kokabiel at all. He had pegged the Cadre to be the type that would go out cursing his enemies to the end, not wailing to the heavens in self-pity.

“So what did he say?”

---

In the lowest strata of the Underworld, where the souls of the dead descended before being sent on their way, a mutilated man stood frozen in a pillar of ice. Locked in a frigid cage and left to wallow in empty darkness, he silently suffered, staring upward in perpetual despondence.

Beings like him, those blessed with life, had no place in this hell known as Cocytus. Fallen Angels and Devils alike feared to even mention this land, as no living creature could hope to survive in such a vast darkness, which seemed to drown all those unfortunate enough to enter.

And yet, there were those who held special reservations. Those like him, whose crimes were cast as too extreme to be forgiven or paid for by mere jail time. Incarceration here was a fate worse than death: unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even breathe, kept awake and alive only by the will and magics of the Realm of the Dead's ruler, the Greek god Hades.

Truly, only a god could think to carry out such a cruelty; to weaponize the mortal mind and turn it into an inescapable prison.

In his efforts to discover the answer to the question that plagued him for centuries, the Fallen Star of God had doomed himself to an eternity of torment.

The question itself remained in his mind, taunting him now in an endless loop.

'Father, where are you?!'

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 23: Invitation

Life in Kuoh had pretty well cycled down by the Monday following the battle. If not for a particular public event, one would even call the day a return to the old grind.

That, and a little incident involving Issei and some guy at the front gate. From what Connor heard later, the whole ORC got involved, and this stranger had the balls to act like he owned the place, which got everyone's feathers ruffled. While it wasn't necessarily his problem, the magus made a note to his Servants to keep an eye out for suspicious loiterers.

Open House was a time of great excitement for some and greater embarrassment for many others, especially since the event was held during the school year and not before its start, like in the States. Why that was the case here, Connor did not understand.

Parents meeting teachers and understanding the courses being taught was all well and good, but not when they themselves posed as a very serious mid-term distraction for the students. Some even had the audacity to bring cameras and record their kids as the day went on, subjecting them to further humiliation. At least with him and Asia being foreign students, they were largely excluded from the torture of constant surveillance.

On the other hand, it did give a little extra incentive for students to focus on the material and try to appear as studious as possible for their parents. This trend was especially noticeable to Connor in English class, when people would usually come to him for advice since he was the only native speaker in the school. Even the Devils asked for his help occasionally, since their omnilingual abilities somehow didn't apply to written form. Go figure!

Asia's experience that day was just as unusual in its own way. She had immediately gotten to work on forming her Bible study club, or Christian Fellowship Club as she had renamed it on the way to school that morning. Unfortunately, she underestimated the lengthy process of school club establishment. The stack of paperwork she ended up bringing home would take a long time to get through even with Connor's help, and even longer to get processed. If she stayed at Kuoh for high school, she could be nearing graduation before the club was finally approved.

It had nothing to do with Devils being in the school, it was simply part and parcel of Japan's overly bureaucratic processes. Not even schools and their student-led organizations could escape that.

However, the little nun would not be discouraged. She was determined to see this club come to fruition. In her own words, 'The Holy Spirit called for her to share her testimony and the love of God that brought her to a new home.'

If only that energy could have been carried into the following day.

---

 

A tenseness hung in the air as Connor and Asia arrived at the academy Tuesday morning.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and yet, nobody acted as if the sun had even risen. Hardly any conversations beyond terse greetings could be heard from passing students. People moved about quickly and quietly, looking down at their feet more than in front of them as they trudged forward. It was like attending a funeral instead of a high school.

“Connor, why does everyone looks so upset?” Asia asked, glancing around in concern.

“I don't know,” he mumbled.

He searched the school grounds for anyone he was familiar with, and his gaze eventually landed on Kiyome. The third-year student was carrying her school supplies in one hand and tennis equipment in the other, looking just as morose as everyone else.

“Hey, Kiyome,” he called while approaching her, “what's going on here?”

The Tennis Club president hesitated at first, like she was trying to find the right words to say, but ultimately answered.

“Ruruko Nimura's back, and she's missing her left leg.”

Asia gasped and covered her mouth in horror, while Connor's eyes widened slightly.

“When did–”

“She came back yesterday, but I think she stayed in the Council Office all day. I caught a glimpse of her while I was helping put away the last of the decorations for Open House.” The beast tamer shook her head. “Except for her parents, she looked ready to snap at anyone that dared to talk to her. Poor thing, I didn't think she could even get so mad.”

Ruruko's return must have been kept very quiet; there had been no announcement about it of any sort. Cold as it would be for him to admit, the magus had actually come close to forgetting about her. He had figured there was no way to save the foot from that kind of infection, but the entire leg?

“The teachers will probably say something about it today, but if you happen to see her… just keep your distance.” Kiyome warned before leaving.

Asia looked to Connor for a second opinion but, other than a thinning of his lips, he had none to give. Going their separate ways for homeroom, Connor found much of the same tension inside the classroom as what was outside.

Two minutes before the first bell rang, Kurobe walked in with a somber, authoritative weight to his steps. He set his briefcase down on the teacher's desk and turned to face the class while adjusting his glasses.

“Good morning. Before we begin today, there's a very serious topic that needs to be addressed.” Hearing no response, he continued. “By now, I'm sure you've all been made aware of the condition of a certain junior of yours. While I believe it goes without saying, I'll make my stance on the matter clear: Show her the respect and courtesy you would wish to receive if that were you in her place, and do not shame yourselves or your classmates with mockery or gossip. Conduct yourselves as students of Kuoh Academy. Is that understood?”

“Hai, sensei.”

Nobody dared to object.

The general feeling of unease continued throughout the day. Chatter remained at a minimum, and the teachers cycling into the classroom gave no further updates about Ruruko. The relative silence beyond the lessons and lectures was actually kind of unnerving, even for Connor.

Come lunchtime, the mood had only slightly improved. Students took the chance to break away from their peers and collect their thoughts privately and peacefully.

Connor made to do so as well, taking his lunch and quietly exiting the classroom to make for his rooftop spot. After turning the corner into another hallway, though, he came into visual range of the very subject of everyone's apprehension rolling herself down the hall in a wheelchair. Momo Hanakai followed close behind the first-year, carrying school bags and bento boxes for two people.

Now that he saw for himself, the young Devil's condition was worse than Connor had thought.

What remained of the missing limb barely peaked out from under her uniform's skirt, still wrapped up in gauze and bandages. It had been roughly a month since the incident, but the remnant of her leg undoubtedly needed more time to heal. Furthermore, it seemed as if she had abandoned all manner of her normal personal décor. Her brown hair was left to fall straight down instead of clipped into her usual pigtails, and the striped green socks she favored were gone, replaced by a simple white ankle sock on her right foot.

Her eyes darted between faces every now and then, but when her gaze locked with the magus, she skidded to a halt. The rubber tires of her chair screeched against the hallway's polished tile floor in the process. Pivoting in place, she then rolled toward him and stopped just outside of arm's reach.

For several very uncomfortable seconds, the crippled first-year just stared up at him with a look of bitter rage in her green eyes. From the corner of his vision, Connor could see a number of other students watching the interaction with silent, morbid curiosity. Momo, meanwhile, worriedly glanced between the two.

“…Hello, Ms. Nimura.”

That was about all Connor could think to say, but even such a neutral greeting felt like treading on thin ice and watching the cracks ominously stretch out around him.

When Ruruko finally responded, it was with the barest quiver of her lip.

Wordlessly, she turned her chair and moved to go around him, even when he stepped aside to get out of her way. She didn't pay him another glance as she aggressively wheeled past him, and the sea of students continued to part and give her a wide berth.

Momo paused next to him and sighed.

“I'm sorry about that. She's been like this ever since leaving the hospital. All the doctors and counselors said to give it time, but…”

“It's fine,” he dismissed, before motioning her to follow her junior. It wasn't like he had a right to comment or claim he understood how the girl felt.

“Kaichō wants to see you in the office after classes.”

He simply nodded.

The white-haired beauty bid another apology and walked after her junior.

Without further interruption, Connor made his way to the roof access door following a long hike up several flights of stairs. Sadly, by the time he got to his shaded spot and sat down, his appetite was largely gone.

He couldn't stop thinking about that look Ruruko gave him. It kept triggering the mental image of that bacteria eating her alive when the monster itself was already dead.

Ultimately, when ten minutes of barely touching his food had gone by, he gave up and packed up to head back downstairs. Trying to eat was too big of a struggle right then. He would just have to snack between classes.

Despite the warmth of summer, he felt cold.

---

As he expected, the day lumbered slowly on, drawing out the twisting sensation in his stomach. By it's end, Connor was ready to just call it quits and go home, Caster's regimen be damned. Skipping one day of training wouldn't kill him.

A thirty minute window existed between classes and clubs, and the Council office was right on the way from homeroom. He could swing by, check in with Sona to see what she wanted, then head out and wait by the front gate for Asia.

Tiredly walking to the office door, he raised his hand to knock but, before it made contact, Assassin's voice rang in his mind.

'Master, I'm detecting two large demonic energy signatures inside. Far larger than that of the Student Council president.'

Connor paused to reevaluate what that meant. It seemed the formal inquiry had finally come around to him, even if a bit later than he originally thought it would happen. In hindsight, he should have asked Momo for details before lunch.

'Then, if things look to be going sideways, do not engage, just be ready to make an escape.'

'Understood.'

Steeling himself for the conversation –or confrontation– ahead, he knocked three times.

“Come in,” he heard.

Slipping past the door as he opened it, he tried to seem as innocent as possible when he looked up to 'notice' the two people seated in the chairs facing Sona.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I'm interrupting. Should I come back later?”

“No, Mr. Lochlainn… They're here to speak with you.” The waver in her voice and expression told him that she was dreading this meeting as well. Perhaps even more than he did.

Closing the door behind him, he got a better look at the heiress' present company.

Firstly, there was a man in a dark business suit regarding him with a calm smile. His physical build was similar to that of Caster, with equally mature facial features to compliment it. The blue-green eyes and red hair that he possessed were both a single shade darker than that of another redhead Connor knew, which made an unmistakable family resemblance.

Next to him, though, was someone that the magus did recognize. A shorter woman wearing probably the most ridiculous outfit Connor could think to see on an adult; a full-on mahō shōjo outfit, with all the bells and whistles. Her long black hair was done into twin-tails, and the starry-eyed expression she sent his way made Connor wonder if he should just turn around and run.

“Yaaay! He's here!”

Too late. The woman leapt up from her seat and bounded toward Connor. Without hesitation or permission, she clasped his hand in hers before shaking it, beaming up at him all the while.

“Nice to meetcha, Con-tan! I'm Serafall Leviathan, but my So-tan calls me Sera. You can, too, since you've been such a good friend to my So-tan!”

He glanced over to Sona, who was doing her best to crush her face into her hands.

Instinctively, his hand pulsed with a Structural Grasp, allowing him to catch a true glimpse of the power he had witnessed before. It felt like he was being enveloped in a blanket of frost, staring up at a gargantuan wall of ice while standing at its base.

He shuddered involuntarily, which went unnoticed as the woman's rate of speech increased.

“Thank you so much for helping my So-tan! Because of my job, I can't always be there for her, even if I want to. And I really want to! Lemme tell ya, I wanted to quit being a Satan the day that my So-tan was born, but that big dummy Aju-kun wouldn't let me! He even got that lazy bum Falby-kun awake long enough to back him up and veto my resignation, can you believe that?! Acting like my job is so much harder than what they do! I mean, really, all Falby-kun does all day is sleep! Those jerks just don't want me having any fun time with my So-tan because they're jealous that my So-tan is so amazing and spectacular and wonderful and their siblings simply can't compare!”

“Uggghhh…” At her desk, Sona groaned while her fingers dug into her forehead so hard that her knuckles began turning white.

“Huh?” Serafall turned and squawked. “Aagh, So-tan! Don't do that! Your beautiful face must be preserved!”

The cosplaying woman then released Connor and rushed to pry Sona's hands apart. As this happened, the tall redhead stood from his seat while adjusting his collar and deep green tie.

“Oh-kay, now that Serafall is taking a quick break from speed talking…” He offered his hand to the magus. “My name is Sirzechs Lucifer, Rias Gremory's older brother, and I'm glad to finally meet you, Mr. Lochlainn.”

“And you as well, Lord Lucifer.”

The moment he took the slightly taller man's hand, his entire body went rigid.

In his mind's eye, he witnessed the end of all things; a powerful, churning maelstrom of black and red that infinitely shredded everything it swallowed. Whereas Serafall could be considered a supernatural colossus, as per her title, this man embodied the concept of destruction.

It made perfect sense now why Kiba had spoken so highly of the guy; he was a walking black hole!

“Are you alright?” Sirzechs asked, noticing the change in Connor's expression.

“Uh– yeah, I'm…” Connor released his hand, and took a moment to compose himself. “Today just… hasn't been the best of days. I've got a lot on my mind.”

Sirzechs hummed. “I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I appreciate the offer, sir, but I'll be fine. I need to get going before too long, though, so was there something you needed of me, Lord Lucifer?”

“Yes, but please, just call me Sirzechs,” he requested. “I'd rather we speak plainly about this.”

By this time, Serafall had ceased her unintended pestering of Sona and rejoined the two men, hands clasped together as she quizzically looked between them.

“Rias and Sona have already told us their side of the story regarding Kokabiel's attack, but there's one series of events that's missing from the timeline,” Sirzechs explained. “My colleague and I were hoping that you'd be able to fill in a few blanks for us. If you could indulge us a couple of questions, then we won't keep you for long.”

The Demon King's concession helped to ease Connor's worry, but only slightly.

“Okay. What did you want to know?”

“Firstly, I have to ask: How did you discern his intent to start a war in the first place? It's not a very common conclusion to jump to in any event.”

“Well, it's also not very common to see a pair of exorcists wandering around devil-controlled territory. After meeting them, I planted listening devices on them and eavesdropped on everything they said and heard over the next few days. The name Kokabiel came up a couple times, so I rang up some old contacts of mine to run a few background checks. As it turned out, Kokabiel had a history of trying to start forest fires, so to speak. It made sense to me that he would try again at some point.”

“You must have some very knowledgeable contacts, then.”

“They're pretty handy in a pinch.”

The redhead gave a half-smile before continuing. “But with that in mind, you took it upon yourself to intervene in a matter that barely involved you.”

“Not necessarily. Regardless of my desire, I've been up to my neck in this mess for a long time now.”

“Why do you say that?” Serafall asked curiously.

Connor took a moment to respond, shifting his stance very slightly.

“It's because, personally, I think what helped set this whole thing off was the excommunication of Asia Argento, and all the circumstances therein.”

His enunciation of the word 'all' conveyed a hint that both Satans seemed to catch. They looked to each other briefly, then back to him.

“If a high-class Devil could get in the Vatican undetected, then people under Kokabiel's command would have even less trouble infiltrating, and they did. Asia was picked up by the Grigori within days of her exile. How could they've done that or even known about her without their own spies on the inside?”

“So you're saying that Kokabiel simply saw an opportunity that he couldn't resist?” Sirzechs implied.

“That glosses over a few factors here and there but, ultimately, yes.” Connor nodded.

“I see.”

“Hmmmmm...” Serafall was a bit more verbally expressive in her pondering. Admittedly, it was cute.

“Was there anything else you needed?” Connor ventured.

Sirzechs shook himself from his thoughts and smiled gratefully. “No, this will do. Thank you for your time, Mr. Lochlainn, and thank you again for your aid against Kokabiel.”

“You're welcome. Have a good day, Lord Lucifer, Lady Le–”

“Nah-ah!” In a flash, she drew a star-tipped wand from… somewhere, and shook it in his face. “Se-ra!”

Connor's eyes flicked to Sirzechs, whose smile turned tired as he mouthed the words 'just go with it.'

“Er… Sera.”

The woman's smile actually sparkled.

“And Sona,” he called, turning back to look the King in the eye, “I'm sorry about Ruruko.”

She only replied with a grateful nod.

Connor exited the room as quietly as he entered. However, the moment after he heard the door tumblers click shut behind him, he gasped and braced himself against the wall. His hands clenched on impulse and shook as they slowly released.

'Master?'

'I'm fine, I'm fine. I just… oh, fuck, I was not ready for that!'

He put a hand to his chest, letting the sweaty palm dampen his shirt while he felt his heart rapidly thump against his ribs.

Maybe training today would be good for him, after all.

---

Inside the Student Council office, Serafall put a hand to her cheek and swayed her body from side to side.

“Mooouuu, Con-tan is so shy!” she cooed.

The Sitri heiress barely resisted the urge to slam her hand against her forehead.

“He is rather evasive for someone his age,” the elder Gremory nodded. “To be expected with his line of work, I suppose, but it makes you wonder: What part of that explanation was he lying about?”

“Dunno,” Serafall shrugged. “Could've been anything. He knows how to make a case sound plausible. Buuut… maybe it had to do with that feeling that we were being watched just now. You felt it, too, didn't you?”

Sona blinked, confused by the sudden change in her sister's tone. Watched?

“Vaguely. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something was there.” Sirzechs stroked his chin ponderously. “When we shook hands, I could've sworn there was some sort of… shift within the room. And it was so subtle, I almost didn't notice.”

“It didn't do that with me. Then again, you are kind of a freak, Zechy-kun, even by crummy old Zekram's standards.”

And just like that, the serious mood vanished; come and gone like a transient cloud.

Sirzechs recoiled with false indignation. “Wha– Excuse me, I'm not the one who assailed the poor boy with high-speed prattle.”

“I was excited! I got so excited I just couldn't hide it! You know how it goes~”

“Wait a minute!” Sona finally interjected. “What are you two talking about? What happened with Mr. Lochlainn?”

Serafall gave a smug little grin to her sister. “Oh, nothing, So-tan. Zechy-kun and I are just talkin.'”

“Yes, and I think that you would do well to keep a closer eye on your friend from now on,” Sirzechs added with his own smile.

“But not too close! So-tan is mine and mine alone, now and forever! No boy shall have her! None!”

Sona withheld a groan for the umpteenth time that day. She knew better than anyone that the roller coaster of moods and mannerisms was a sign that Serafall would likely be popping in more often as a matter of simply entertaining herself. A continual headache as that would be for her, Connor was going to have it far worse.

Which begged the question: What was Connor doing that she didn't know about? What had he done?

---

The shock of Ruruko's return hadn't subsided by Wednesday afternoon. Other than to give the girl plenty of space, people were still torn over what to say or do about her. Connor made sure to keep himself out of sight, slipping back into his routine of vanishing from the crowd until Asia could meet up with him for the walk home.

From the school gate, their relaxed pace took about twenty minutes. Asia's homeroom teacher had assigned homework she wanted to deal quickly, so she excused herself for the evening.

In his own apartment, Connor headed for the kitchen to start making dinner. Before he took two steps that way, though, a buzz in his back pocket alerted him to an incoming text message.

No sooner had he fished his phone out to view it, the doorbell rang.

Caster and Assassin immediately materialized between him and the entryway, weapons drawn. Connor saw his reflection in Assassin's arm blades while his mind raced.

This shouldn't be possible. The Bounded Field surrounding the building had been revamped several times over just as many weeks. Only Assassin could've crossed the distance from its outside perimeter to his doorstep in the time it took to blink, and even then, she would've been detected coming in. Whatever this anomaly was had appeared instantly, completely bypassing the Field's detection.

The only thing he knew of to be that stealthy was…

…

He checked his phone again.

Don't shoot the messenger.

…

Connor let out a tired sigh.

“Wait. Stay back,” he quietly ordered.

Both Servants looked to him with uncertainty, but stepped out of view from the doorway all the same. Connor tentatively returned to the door and turned the knob – the bell rang again, almost louder somehow. Pushing the barrier to let it swing out, he found the unexpected visitor sitting on its haunches and looking up very expectantly at him.

“Gimme a few minutes.”

The sentient Sacred Gear gave a nod, then sank into the afternoon shadows cast by the breezeway roof. Deep red eyes lingered, still staring intently as the human pulled the door closed again.

Turning back around, Connor wordlessly signaled the Servants to stand down and marched to the bedroom. He dug out a clean set of casual clothes from the closet, then resumed the removal of his school uniform. He had just gotten to putting the blazer onto its hanger, when Caster approached him.

“One of these days, kid…” the man grumbled.

“You don't have to say it, I know. This song and dance with them lost its appeal a while ago.”

“Then what're you doing about it?”

“I'm not giving up, I just…” he paused to push down his frustration. “I need to find an angle that doesn't involve the Graal. Trying to leverage what I know about something they possess would only get me more tangled up in their web.”

“You're already in pretty deep, but I hear you. We're lucky that you haven't already been locked up in a cell,” Caster conceded. “Just don't take too long in looking for a 'perfect' angle. Make hay while the sun shines, yeah?”

Connor nodded and Caster returned to spirit form, as did a reluctant Assassin.

The magus raked a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, the weight of events pressing more on his shoulders. Escaping one shadow had only driven him into another, and neither offered much in the way of severance packages. He needed more than just distance now – he needed a clean break; something that wouldn't get him a complimentary knife in the back.

His meeting with the Satans had driven that point deeper. Sona might hold some authority in Kuoh, but even she bowed to powers that rattled him to the bone. Still, he couldn’t discard her connection outright, not when so few held some measure of his trust.

The Command Seals cracked open doors to power he’d only just begun to grasp, but power always carried a cost in watchers. And with the Graal in Grigori custody, his path forward seemed to loop right back into the maze he’d been trying to escape.

Like it or lump it, though, the answers he sought lay further in the labyrinth. At least, for now.

On the way back out the door and down the stairs, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Asia.

Going out for a bit, be back shortly.

With the living Gear as his guide, Connor followed it to the edge of town, which was odd to him, since he was expecting to head for the central square. Every now and then, Jin's silhouette would shift, changing its orientation to point in the direction that it wanted the magus to go, all this without ever leaving his shadow.

Foot traffic was minimal, which gave him a clear view of his target upon arrival.

There, dressed in a tan jacket and dark grey pants, Tobio had his rear end parked on a public street bench, and his gaze fixed to his phone.

“Didn't take you long to come back, did it?” came Connor's acidic announcement.

Tobio looked up and laughed with a grimace. “It could've been longer. I did have to quit Nomura's; boy, was the old man pissed about that. Had to skip town until he could calm down and forget about me.”

“My heart bleeds for you. So, what's so important that you had to come bother me about it?”

“I got another job and I thought you might be interested to hear the specifics.”

Connor nodded slowly. “Right, just like all the others. I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say that whatever this is about, we're doing it alone again?”

“Nope.” Tobio shook his head and pointed to a building on his left, directing Connor's attention that way. “I brought some of my team with me for this one. They're in there, if you're up to meeting them.”

Connor studied the opening to a wood-framed building nestled between two other stores.

It was a more traditional Japanese restaurant than what could be seen in Kuoh's busy side. The modest signage was another clue to its style, with two paper lanterns illuminating a set of white noren curtains that covered the entryway. On the left-most curtain, the name 'Kuoh Kaiseki' was neatly scrawled in cursive calligraphy.

Expensive as kaiseki usually was, Connor had hesitated to visit this place before. Even Caster had never scoped it out more than once during his solo explorations. 'Save it for date night with Little Lady,' he had said.

'I guess tonight can be a trial run.'

“Sure. Lead on.” The wary inflection in his voice was plain to hear for the agent.

Following Tobio inside, the first thing Connor noticed was how clean it smelled. He could actually pick up the scent of simmering seafood and dashi coming from the kitchen off to the right.

He cast cursory glances at the common dining area, noting that the peaceful interior was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of Nomura's. The lack of cigarette smoke certainly helped make the small area seem oddly spacious. A central walkway separated booths and tables that lined up along opposing walls, all of which were softly lit by wooden light fixtures and simple fabric chandeliers. Further away from the entrance, ornamental shoji screens blocked off some areas that evidently held larger tables for private parties. Patrons were scattered here and there, quietly enjoying their meals, unknowingly adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Tobio led Connor down the walkway and toward one of the closed off rooms. Sliding a screen open, the agent ushered his acquaintance through. In the center of the partitioned room lay a table large enough for six people to sit and eat comfortably. Three people were already seated at its corners, only one of whom Connor recognized.

Lavinia sat at one corner in a pink and red summer dress that did nothing but accentuate her already mature figure. Add in the waterfall of blond hair that fell straight to the top of her derriere, and she must have looked like a goddess going down the street.

The first of the two new faces was a fair-skinned young woman sitting directly across from Lavinia. She had deep brown eyes and dark brown hair that was neatly fixed in a braided updo, while several stray bangs framed her face. She was dressed in an evident uniform consisting of a small black shoulder cape and strapless top that hugged her midsection, a long-sleeved blue shrug top under the cape, and a white minidress and skirt combo underneath everything else. On her left upper arm was a stylized patch depicting a sword twisting into a helix between a pair of eagle feathers; a unit insignia, perhaps.

The table's third occupant, seated at the corner opposite of Lavinia's, seemed largely out of place with present company. In fact, based on his posture, he came off like an archetypal Japanese delinquent. He was tall and lean, dressed in what had to be the male version of his counterpart's uniform –an unbuttoned blazer with matching pants and a collared undershirt– in a similar color scheme. As an added note, the sleeves of his blazer and shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing several long scars on his forearms. The head of reddish-brown hair he sported was wild and unruly, and the sharp features of his face and gray eyes led to the overall impression that he had been through quite a few scraps.

Both newcomers looked Connor up and down while Lavinia offered a friendly smile to the magus.

“This is your guy, huh? You sure he's on the level?” The delinquent questioned Tobio.

“I wouldn't have asked him to come if I didn't.”

The man eyed Connor a bit longer before he shrugged. “Well, whatever.”

“You've already met Lavinia, but these are two of my other teammates. First, Natsume Minagawa.”

The brunette stood up and brushed the front of her clothes before smiling and bowing. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lochlainn. Tobio talks about you quite a bit, so I hope we'll do well together.”

“Simmer down there, Birdbrain. Kid's -what, four, maybe five years younger than you?” the seated man boorishly commented. “Shit, if that's what you're into, it's a wonder you kept your hands off Vali.”

Natsume's mood flipped like a switch, going from cheerful to irritated as she shot him a glare. His only reaction was to widen his smirk into a grin.

“And Mister Congeniality there is Kōki Samejima. Don't mind any remarks that he gives you, he just does that to get a rise out of people.” Tobio then walked around and took the seat between his peers, probably to play the middleman in their squabbling while Natsume sat back down.

“Noted.” the magus sat in the chair at the table's last unoccupied corner, two spots away from Lavinia. “You said this wasn't your whole team, so where are the rest?”

“They're on different assignments at the moment, so they couldn't make it for this job. It's just us.”

“Then permit me to ask: What does this job entail?”

Tobio made to explain, but his attention was suddenly diverted to something behind Connor.

“Sumimasen!”

The magus turned to see three waitresses bringing trays of food to the table. Between the four Grigori agents, the carefully arranged meals were largely seafood-based, like tuna, salmon, crab and even octopus meat. Each tray came with a bowl of rice alongside other vegetables, sauces and a cup of sake. It all looked and smelled really good.

He and Asia were definitely going to visit here during the summer break.

After serving the others, the youngest of the waitresses then regarded the table's newest arrival.

“Okyakusama… menyū o motte kite mo īdesu ka?” she hesitantly asked Connor.

“Hai, onegaishimasu. Ato, o mizu mo kudasai.” His reply brought a smile of relief to the woman. She bowed and excused herself to retrieve the items in question.

“Your Japanese is very good for a foreigner,” Natsume complimented earnestly.

“Thank you, I studied at Oxford.”

“Hah!”

Kōki went stone-faced when everyone looked at him for his outburst.

'Good, somebody got it.'

The waitress then returned with a menu, which Connor accepted with a light bow. As she left to attend other tables, the operatives clasped their hands in thanks for the food before them.

“Itadakimasu.”

While he and his team began to eat, Tobio picked up the topic again.

“As you now, the three Biblical factions have been walking on eggshells around each other since the end of the Great War. But, with last week's attack, it's clear to everybody that a ceasefire is not going to dissuade further violence much longer. So on that note, the faction leaders have all called for a face-to-face meeting in the interest of arranging a lasting peace agreement.”

“About damn time, too. The big-wigs and bean counters on all sides finally had more scares and near-misses than they're comfortable ignoring.” Kōki grunted, then roughly took the tempura latched in his chopsticks. “Dis ish jus' wut it tahkes fur ev'r'budy t' g't deir schit t'gethur.”

“Shark,” Lavinia chastised.

“Don' giuue dat, ya kno ah'm righ', an–”

“Not that. Don't talk with your mouth full,” the witch cut his rant preemptively. The disapproving look she gave him just earned a huff and an eye roll while he chewed in silence.

“Anyway, that's how it is,” Tobio continued. “As of today, the agreed meeting time is scheduled for Wednesday of next week, and the conference itself is going to be held in Kuoh Academy's assembly hall. Heavy security is a given, barriers will be in place everywhere and armed guards from all three factions will keep watch outside. On the Devil's side, Sirzechs Lucifer and Serafall Leviathan will be attending, along with their siblings, while the Seraphim Michael is representing Heaven. And officially, only Azazel and a single bodyguard are permitted to set foot in the academy, on behalf of the Grigori.”

“What about unofficially?” Connor wondered.

“That's where this comes into play.” Tobio took something from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table. “Ever hear of the Khaos Brigade?”

Connor leaned in to observe the object. It was a medallion of some sort, with the image of a snake on the side facing the ceiling. He looked between the four people around him, then settled back into his chair with an exaggerated shrug.

“No, but with a name like that, I can't help but wonder what their goal could be.”

Lavinia giggled, daintily lifting the cup of sake beside her meal up to her full lips.

“Okay then, smart-ass, pay attention.” Kōki leaned back to sit up straight.

“The Brigade's a terrorist coalition that's been trying to make a name for itself lately. They wanna tear down the existing system of power in the supernatural side of the world but, like most terror groups in history, they've got no long-term goals or plans to replace whatever they destroy. The bastards are just in it for the violence.”

Connor kept silent on the irony of that statement and its origin.

“We've been monitoring their movements for almost a year now, but in the last few months, they've gotten a lot more active. Funding has suddenly increased several times over, and membership has reached an all time high; disturbances around the world are being linked to them almost every other week.”

“One group in particular we've had our eye on is dubbed the Hero Faction,” Natsume added. “Their rank and file strictly consists of humans and Sacred Gear wielders, with purported Longinus wielders acting as commanding officers. Recently, though, there's been a shift in the regime, and some non-human species have been reported to be working with them as collaborators.”

“The enemy of their enemy isn't necessarily a friend, but mutual interests point them to similar targets.” Connor's conjecture received a couple of nods. “And with the dignitaries coming to Kuoh for this meeting, you think these guys might try and crash the party? Even after Kokabiel screwed the pooch?”

“It's not a safe bet, but the possibility is still pretty strong. This meeting will be the first major attempt at a full peace agreement between the factions in centuries, so there's a lot at stake. Lord Azazel plans to share the Grigori's findings on the Brigade as an offering of good faith. Meanwhile, we've been assigned to keep watch and discretely head off any attempts to disrupt the proceedings.”

'Yeah, like that won't possibly backfire if you get caught.'

“Okay, so you're all on guard duty.” He looked to Tobio. “In that case, and regardless of the likelihood of another attack, why am I here when you've got all the hands you need?”

“If it does come to an armed conflict, you won't have any involvement,” the lead agent answered. “Dealing with the Brigade directly is our job. However, in exchange for some quality control, and a bit of manual labor at the start, you get this.”

Putting a hand under the table –no doubt reaching into his shadow pocket– Tobio retrieved a sheet of clean letter paper and presented it to Connor. Taking the form, the magus scanned it from top to bottom, then looked up and fixed the agent with a disbelieving stare.

“Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

Tobio shook his head. “You help us with this job, and you'll be cleared of all wrongdoing in Dohnaseek's death. No more probation, inquiries, ambiguous messages or whatever else; Grigori gets all the way off your back. Azazel thinks that you've long since paid your dues for defending yourself when there was no chance of escape.”

'Then just let me go, dammit! Stop with the red tape!'

He never needed to pay any dues in the first place, as far as he was concerned. It was just his misfortune that he managed to stoke Azazel's interest, and he doubted the Grigori would allot him the right to an attorney.

Connor read through the form a second time, making doubly sure that there wasn't some fine print he missed. He even flipped the page over and feigned checking the back while performing a quick Structural Grasp on the paper itself. The last thing he wanted was to get roped back in because of some damned technicality or loophole.

He found nothing of the sort, but the lettering and the signature –while neatly handwritten– wasn't inscribed on the paper with liquid ink, but rather a dry powder ink. That meant this was just a photocopy, and the genuine article was likely still with Azazel for safekeeping.

'Penny for your thoughts?' the first of Connor's two invisible bodyguards remarked.

'Well, the terms are pretty straightforward –honestly, the whole thing reads like an actual geis would– but I can't shake the feeling that this is just a bait-and-switch. They're obviously not quite done with getting under my skin; even right now, they're just putting more eyes on me before they start on this security gig.'

'Perhaps, but even so, Lord Ikuse had no need to inform you of his next mission, nor did he need to introduce you to his team.'

Assassin made a fair point. Unlike before, Tobio now had a whole group at his disposal to deal with the problem, so it really was none of the magus' business this time. At least, not until being offered amnesty.

'He only did that so I wouldn't get nosy if I saw him or Lavinia running around town.'

'Sure, but he also knows you're not dumb enough to rat him out on a half-baked suspicion. Likewise, he's not dumb enough to let you leave when you've got hard evidence in your hands. Casually look up.'

Connor glanced around to see all eyes fixed inquisitively on him. From an outside perspective, it must have appeared like they were patiently waiting for his reply. Looking a little more closely, though, he could tell that all four agents were ready to jump up and act if the need arose, halfway through a meal or not. In fact, it wouldn't be a stretch to guess that steps had already been taken to ensure he couldn't escape with the release agreement in hand.

He thinned his lips when the gleam in Tobio's eyes confirmed that.

'The way I see it, you've got four options; one, take the deal; two, decline it; three, Assassin and I help you escape; or four, she and I kill them. Guess which one has a remotely favorable outcome for you in the long run.'

“…”

Two of those weren't even a choice when they would just paint a bigger target on his back and possibly a bounty on his head. Asia as well, if it meant getting him out in the open.

His better judgment told him to say 'no,' but the prospect of finally getting out from under Azazel's magnifying glass was more appealing than letting things stay the way they were. If playing ball one last time meant the Grigori would finally back off, then he could stand to suffer one more week.

“What exactly would be required of me here?”

“All you have to do is be on the lookout for any sign of trouble and contact me if you find anything. On the day of the meeting, just keep back, and we'll handle things.”

Connor blinked. Exoneration for a little bit of patrol work? There was no way it could be that easy.

'Caster?'

The Heroic Spirit was quiet for a moment before he replied.

'It's your call, kid.'

Over the last month, Connor had come to trust Caster with his life, but some days, the man's actions just confused him to no end. Like now, for instance, when he seemed to know or figure something out that Connor hadn't, and wanted to use it as a lesson.

Mulling it over a bit, he took in a calming breath. He wouldn't get any answers until he did some thinking of his own.

But, for now…

“I'll keep an eye out, so long as your boss keeps his word.”

“He will,” Tobio affirmed.

To finalize the deal, the two men reached across the table and shook hands.

In that moment, the deadly serious expressions on everyone's faces relaxed, and the mood of the dinner table suddenly changed, like a cloud cover finally passing enough to let sunlight through.

Lavinia lightly clapped her own hands in celebration. “Meravigliosa! Welcome aboard, Signore Lochlainn! Now, who's up for the second course? Lord Azazel is paying.”

“Aw, hell yeah!” Kōki grinned from ear to ear. “Let's get some more booze in here and top the night off!”

“Keep it down, dumbass!” Natsume hissed. “This is a restaurant, not a damned bar!”

“Well, maybe we should've gone to that Nomura's place instead of here.”

“Right, and you'd be joining me in getting nailed to the wall by the old man,” Tobio injected.

“Blow me.”

“Nothing's there to blow.”

“Boys, no fighting at the table.”

As the agents began another round of banter, Connor quietly pressed the call button on the table's pager to bring a worker over. If someone else was paying, he might as well get free dinner out of the night.

One way or another, his next week was going to be extra busy.

---

Elsewhere, inside a dimly lit office, a young man restlessly stared up at a hooded courier from behind a large mahogany desk.

“Is this all of it?”

“Everything he could afford to send, yes,” the nameless man confirmed.

“Then why are you still here? Get out! Go do something productive!” he snapped in unfettered annoyance.

Realizing he'd overstayed his welcome, the messenger bowed and quickly left.

The man at the desk shook his head and huffed. He was sorely motivated to cut the ignoramus right in half, but that would mean wasting precious time in cleaning up the mess. That wouldn't do when he had intelligence reports to sort through. Such a job was normally for his right-hand man to merrily attend, except that he was forced to manage his spy network more closely as of late.

Times like this made him understand exactly why his master took up smoking.

Powerful as it was, the Ouroboros Dragon simply had no sense of strategy. It went and did whatever it pleased and left those like him to sort out the logistical junk piles in its wake. Spending so much time managing his faction this way was incredibly irksome, but he knew better than to object to the single-minded whims of the world's most powerful being. The best anyone could was just to work around it.

He sifted through the reports piece by piece, hoping to find a clue to questions that had been bothering him for the last few days. Piercing blue eyes glided over the documents while he leaned back in the leather seat.

Based on information provided by his colleague's spies, Kokabiel had been in the clear to drag the Biblical factions into another self-destructive war, but somehow tripped at the finish line. Not that he cared anything about what a spiteful Fallen did to any avaricious Devils. Truthfully, he was content to sit back and watch the fireworks.

Except that there weren't any.

So what happened there? Where had it gone wrong?

He had several ideas, but details of the event had been irritatingly sketchy, and it took time to dig up what the Devils had been quick to bury. The three factions were now back to being priority targets thanks to the rogue Cadre's failure, so making similar mistakes was not an option. For that reason, he had to know.

If humanity was to escape the yoke set upon it by the supernatural creatures of the world, it needed a beacon. And, as those chosen by the World to wield power in its purest form, he and his allies would be fools to ignore the call of destiny.

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 24: Brought to Light

This was not how Issei pictured his Saturday evening going.

Out behind the ORC building, Kiba and Issei watched on with mixed feelings of amusement and pity. Back and forth before them, a small someone wearing the academy girls' uniform frantically ran away from a straight-faced Koneko, who was power-walking in pursuit while holding out cloves of garlic.

“Get that away from me!”

“Don't be picky about your food, Gaspy.”

Anyone who looked at the person running from Koneko would believe they were seeing a young girl with bob-cut platinum blonde hair and pinkish-violet eyes. The truth was far stranger; Gasper Vladi was a dhampir, evidenced by the presence of pointed ears and small upper fangs. Stranger still, for whatever reason, he was a habitual cross-dresser.

From what the others told Issei, Gasper had been in a really bad place when he was first reincarnated as Rias' Bishop. Even Rias herself had trouble getting close to him without accidentally triggering a panic attack. When that happened, his Sacred Gear –Forbidden Balor View– would involuntarily go off and freeze the people around him in time. For everyone's safety, he had to be kept in seclusion while Rias and Akeno worked with him on keeping his power under control.

Unfortunately, keeping it from going out of control was about all he was able to manage.

The poor kid had a terrible case of social anxiety; Issei had never met anyone with to this extent. He was so distressed about going out in public or being around anyone other than Rias and her peerage, that he hadn't stepped outside in almost a year, never mind the ORC building. He barely even left his room in all that time! He was a legitimate hikikomori!

Now, though, Rias had gotten the recommendation from her brother to bring Gasper out into the world again, much to the dhampir's dismay. It took a good amount of coaxing from her, but Rias was finally able to get him to at least come outside. Unfortunately, she couldn't stick around, as she and Akeno needed to meet with Sona about an important conference in the next few days.

This left Gasper in the hands of Rias' other servants. Before either of the boys could even pitch a plan of action, Koneko enacted hers. With her 'incentive' in hand, she chased him around until he started doing laps around the building, never once breaking her own stride.

“Should we… try and stop this?” the brunette Pawn asked.

“She won't hurt him, and he knows it,” Kiba dismissed. “She always makes it up to him afterwards.”

By the end of his third lap, the young shut-in fell to his knees in exhaustion. Thankfully, Koneko ceased her pursuit as well, exchanging the garlic cloves for some water.

“Still, though, that's a little bit… much, isn't it?” Issei wondered.

“Hey, everything okay back here?”

From around the corner of the building, a familiar blonde peeked out and looked around the gathered servants of Gremory.

“Saji, what's up?”

“I was making the rounds on campus when I saw Koneko following someone back here.” The Sitri Pawn approached the other boys, then glanced to the pair of first-years. “So, who's the new girl? I thought you were Lady Gremory's latest recruit.”

“I am. Gasper was here before me, and he's also a boy.”

Looking back to Issei, Saji's expression instantly fell with disbelief. “Huh?”

“Yeah, trust me, that was my reaction, too.” Issei sympathized.

“Buchō wants us to try and get Gasper to work with his Sacred Gear, but right now, we're rather short of ideas,” Kiba explained.

“Then maybe what you need is to think outside the box.”

The interjection drew all eyes to a tall man casually approaching the gathered Devils from the treeline. Issei recognized him as one of his regular contract clients that always just requested company every now and then. He never gave his name –which wasn't entirely uncommon– but it wasn't until recently that Issei came to know exactly who this guy actually was.

“Hey there, kiddo, how's it going?” the man asked Issei jovially.

Rather than a verbal reply, Issei summoned the Boosted Gear to his left hand, followed quickly by Saji doing the same with his own Gear. Kiba and Koneko took defensive stances from different angles surrounding the visitor. Gasper, meanwhile, took cover behind a nearby tree.

Azazel merely smirked.

“I guess I can't blame you youngsters for being on edge, but relax. I'm not here to stir up trouble. I was just out for a stroll and happened to bear witness to your hazing methods, so I figured I'd offer my two cents.”

“Hazing?” Saji asked.

“What else would you call chasing a vampire around with garlic? Team bonding? You know that stuff is poisonous to them, right?”

Koneko flinched slightly at the snide remark.

“What do you want?” Issei demanded.

The Fallen didn't answer at first, except to glance over to Gasper.

“Take it from someone with a bit of experience in teaching; sink or swim doesn't work for everybody, especially when there's a lack of willingness by the one being taught. If you're looking to make the little dhampir do something with Forbidden Balor View, take a step back. Several, if you have to. Make sure he knows how to swim before you throw him into the deep end of the pool.”

'How did he know–'

“For example, you there, with the Absorption Line,” the man looked pointedly at Saji, “If you were to attach your Gear to the boy while he was using his power, you could help him by siphoning the energy it gives off and dispersing it. In no time at all, you'd be able to help limit its overall output and keep him from freezing everything in his line of sight.”

“Wait, for real?” the astonished blonde looked down to the Gear on his arm while Azazel chuckled.

“I've seen it happen, and that's just one of Vritra's abilities. He was such a problem for the Indian gods that they divvied up his power between four different Sacred Gears. An Evil Dragon he may be, but they really did him dirty with that move. But, I digress.”

The Fallen Angel then turned his gaze back to Issei. “Alternatively, if you really wanted quick results, you'd let him have a taste of your blood, kid.”

Issei heard Gasper sharply inhale.

“How is that supposed to help?” he asked cautiously.

“It… actually, never mind. That's one of those things you need to see and learn for yourself to really understand.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he rolled his shoulders.

Issei heard Ddraig snort. “Out for a stroll, my eye. The smug bastard's just flaunting the edge he has over you.”

“Anyway, that's all I had to say. I'm sure you kids can figure something out. A great part of the human spirit is being creative with what little you've got.”

The Cadre turned and started to walk away, not in any particular direction, but making it clear that the conversation was over.

“Wait!” Issei took a step forward. “Why are you telling us any of this?”

Azazel gave no answer for several seconds, until he looked over his right shoulder, his mouth now set into a stoic line.

“What can I say? I'm just a nosy old man.”

Smirking once again, he turned back and resumed his walk, leaving the teens to contemplate his 'advice.'

---

Kiba had gone to inform Rias and Sona about the interaction with Azazel, which left the three boys and one girl to reconvene inside the gym a few minutes later.

Issei didn't fully trust what the Governor-General had gone out of his way to tell them, but he did make a valid point. There wasn't a lot being done by just having Gasper run laps around the old school building.

Although, he wasn't entirely sure if dodgeball was a better alternative, despite Koneko advising to the contrary. He exchanged a look with Saji, who seemed just as uncertain as he felt.

After explaining Forbidden Balor View's abilities to Saji, the Sitri Pawn agreed to lend a hand. He was curious to see if what Azazel told them about Absorption Line was actually possible. As such, the lizard-shaped Gear's 'tongue' was now attached to the top of a nervous Gasper's head like an air line from a vintage diving suit, continually pulling energy from the dhampir.

Issei cast another glance to Gasper while tapping a finger against the rubber-coated ball in his hands. Even after he had assured that he wasn't going to throw it at full power, the boy seemed no less anxious.

“Okay, well… let's see where this goes.”

As promised, he let the ball fly at what he considered to be half-speed. Even so, the incoming object sent the dhampir into a panic.

“Aaagh!”

Issei saw a flash of light, and then everything changed. In one moment, the ball was within arm's reach of the dhampir. In the next, it flew through empty air and bounced lightly on the floor. Gasper, meanwhile, was curled up against the wall behind Saji on the verge of tears.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I just– I... can't…”

This was just baffling; the kid acted like he was expecting a beating for a simple mistake. What the hell kind of life did he lead before reincarnating?

On another note, Issei now understood exactly what it felt like to be frozen in time; literally nothing. His body and mind hadn't registered that anything had just happened to him, which was kind of scary.

“Well, that's a bust,” Saji shuddered after regained his senses. “Balor View completely overwhelmed Absorption Line. There's not much use in 'limiting the output' if he can just bulldoze right through the cap. Got any other ideas, Hyōdō?”

“No, but if something pops into your head, feel free to share.” Issei scratched his head. “The only other thing I've got is the blood drinking, but I don't think tha–”

“NO! NO! I HATE BLOOD!”

“Whoa! Okay, easy!” Issei mollified, holding his hands up. “Nobody said you had to do that! I wasn't too hot for the idea, either, really.”

The mortified dhampir's scream was so intense that Issei was truly reminded of a bat screech that he heard as a kid. 'Piercing' was the best word to describe the high-pitched ringing behind his eardrums that struck his inner ear in pulses to give an almost instant headache.

A very uncomfortable silence followed, with everyone looking this way and that, trying to think of something. Anything, really.

“Maybe it's not the Gear, so much as…”

Issei looked to Saji, whose eyes were now fixed to the floor. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I'm just thinking… Hang on, let me try something.”

Retracting his Gear from Gasper and dismissing it, Saji walked over to a nearby ball cart. The servants of Gremory all watched in curiosity as he pushed the cart toward them and took a volleyball out of it.

“Now, Gasper,” he started, looking over his shoulder in the Bishop's direction, but didn't make eye contact for some reason. “What we're about to do is super simple: I'm gonna toss this in the air directly above my head. At the highest point of its climb, I want you to try and stop it from falling. Okay?”

“Uh… y-yeah,” was Gasper's meek reply as he stood to his feet.

“Now, for you two, turn around, face the door and don't look away.”

Issei and Koneko gave him confused stares, but Saji just gestured for them to get on with it. Still unsure of where he was going with this, both did as requested, turning to face the double-doors of the gym. Saji then walked back to stand between and behind them, forming a triangle of their bodies with their backs to the timid younger boy.

“You ready?” Saji checked with Gasper. “Alright, here we go.”

With his gaze fixed to the gym doors, Issei could only listen to the sound of Saji's clothes rustling as he sent the ball up over his head. A few seconds later, the ball landed back in the Pawn's hands with a *THUMP.* Before anyone could say anything, Gasper started fretting again.

“I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't know you were going to throw it that high, and I–”

“It's okay, don't worry,” Saji reassured calmly. “No harm, no foul. We'll just keep trying. Ready?”

Once more, Issei heard the brushing sounds of clothes as Saji sent the ball skyward. Again, a *THUMP* filled his ears, then another pause before Saji went for another toss. He counted in his head the numbers of seconds from takeoff to touchdown but, this time, he didn't hear leather hitting skin. Or anything, for that matter. Another three seconds passed without any noise at all.

It hadn't come back down.

Curiously, Issei looked up to see if the ball had gotten stuck in the rafters. Instead, he saw it suspended in midair at the center of a large black and purple orb. He then chanced a look back to Gasper, only to find the boy staring up in utter concentration at the airborne object. His once light purple orbs were now aglow in a swirl of white, red and fuchsia, the pupils having disappeared completely.

'He… he's doing it? Are you kidding me, it worked?!'

“There ya go!” Saji praised, keeping his eyes to the ceiling. “Now, release it.”

Gasper's expression relaxed, and his eyes morphed back to their original color. As if its movement had never been impeded, the ball dropped back into Saji's hands. The triumphant smile on his face quickly found its way to Issei's when their gazes met.

They had found a starting point.

“Good job, Gaspy.”

The thumbs-up and soft smile by Koneko made the Bishop's face light up with joy.

“I– Dude, how'd you know that would work?” Issei incredulously asked Saji, who shrugged uneasily.

“Well, it's like Azazel said; take a step back, or several. The whole idea was just to get him practicing with his power, right? I just kinda… guessed that maybe all the attention was what bothered him.”

Issei's earlier confusion returned, and Koneko fixed the blonde Pawn with a hard stare that said 'bullshit' without verbalizing it.

Saji nodded in acknowledgment that his excuse was not convincing anyone.

“My little brother is autistic, and one of his biggest problems is that he can't make eye contact with anyone; his anxiety skyrockets. Sharpest kid in his kindergarten class, but he cannot function if he thinks that people are watching him. Just now, Gasper kept glancing between the three of us, and every time either myself or Issei looked him in the eye, he shrank in on himself the same way my brother does. So, I thought that if no one was staring him down, he would feel less pressured and could concentrate more easily.”

“…”

“Are you a secret genius?”

The blonde Pawn scoffed at Koneko's question.

“No way, I'm just a guy who does what he has to for the sake of his family. Besides, if I want to be a teacher at Kaichō's future Rating Game school, I need to know how to work with all kinds of students, no matter their circumstances.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Issei was left in awe at his fellow Devil. Dare he say it, he felt a bit envious. The sincere passion in Saji's voice and expression reminded Issei of his younger years where he dreamed ostensibly of having a gorgeous lover, or perhaps multiple. His blonde counterpart, however, knew exactly what he desired in life, and was moving toward it like a freight train.

He and Issei hadn't made the best first impressions of one another before Rias' Rating Game, but since then, his cocky, arrogant attitude seemed to vanish. He didn't turn into a different person per se, but he didn't rise to challenges or taunts like he used to; he was cutting out some old habits.

'Almost losing a friend can do that to you, I guess.'

Saji took a swift glance at the clock hanging from the gym wall, then tossed the volleyball in his hand to Issei.

“Anyway, I gotta go. I need to get back and deliver my report to Kaichō.”

“Oh, yeah, you go on ahead.” Issei gave a light bow of respect, while Koneko simply issued a grateful nod. “And thanks for helping out, seriously.”

“No problem, but you owe me a favor after this, Hyōdō.”

“What? Why just me?”

“Because you're the one who asked me if I wanted to help. Koneko didn't say a word about it.” He raised an eyebrow at the Rook who had a finger to her lips. “I can't be freely lending aid to a potential Rating Game rival. That's just bad etiquette for a Devil.”

“Alright, fine. Just get the hell outta here,” Issei grumbled, fighting down his discomposure.

The blonde chuckled. “I'll see guys around. And it was good to meet you, Gasper.”

“Y-you, too, Mr. Saji.”

As the Sitri Pawn walked away, Issei shook his head.

'New leaf or not, he can still be an ass…'

“Geez… So, Gasper, we– oh, right.” Issei broke eye contact when he saw Gasper flinch, choosing instead to focus on the clock. “We still have a bit before Buchō gets back. How did you feel about that whole thing? You wanna keep trying?”

“Yeah, let's keep going. I, uh… I think I know what to do now.”

Issei smiled once again when he heard the lilt of excitement in Gasper's response.

“Awesome, let's do it!”

With their attention on the task at hand, both boys missed the rather forlorn expression that Koneko cast between them.

---

'His' target was now mere meters below 'him' in the small antechamber.

An ornate naginata was set upon a pedestal, surrounded by various other war trophies and mementos collected by Lord Kanetsugu. A pair of armored samurai vigilantly stood outside the room, their hands resting on their weapons, a kanabō and an ōdachi.

Getting this far inside the castle had been simply enough. 'He' had already employed a number of decoys to draw guards' attention away from their posts. Some were as inconspicuous as an animal darting by in the brush, while others were more direct, like the unintelligible whispers of a wayward soul wandering the earth. Having timed and dispersed them in such a way to make every incident seem isolated, 'he' ensured that no one would catch on to 'his' infiltration. The most 'he'd' had to do was hypnotize a pair of guards into a quick nap.

Just as 'he' prepared to jump down, though, the door slid open, and a girl no older than twelve years of age stepped in. She was dressed in a maidservant's red and white kimono, likely a daughter to one of Lord Kanetsugu's kenin. A broom in hand, the girl began sweeping the floor quietly and diligently. The two samurai outside the open door kept their eyes on her and the weapon simultaneously.

This complicated matters, but it also confirmed 'his' suspicions prior to 'his' arrival. Maidservants would not normally be allowed here during the night, and not under such heavy watch. That could only mean that Lord Kanetsugu knew 'he' was coming.

This theft was to be a bloodless affair, but the sleeping guards would wake up soon; 'his' window of opportunity was closing. If 'he' did not act now, the daimyō's test would result in failure, and the clan as a whole would suffer.

'He' could not allow that.

Employing a bit of genjutsu this time, 'he' set a small horde of illusory mice to scurry out from under the tatami mats and crowd around the samurais' feet. The two men looked down and barked in surprise, stomping here and there to avoid the 'creatures' harassing them.

The girl stopped her work and turned and observe the commotion. In that moment, 'he' soundlessly dropped down from the rafters behind her, hands poised to strike.

-----

Before 'him,' a young man lay on his back, wincing while his wounds were properly attended. 'Per the orders of the clan head, 'he' had been forbidden from using opium to dull the pain, forcing the boy to endure every suture and medical compound applied to him.

This latest session had been far more brutal than most. The boy's father had relentlessly pushed his progeny to the point of exhaustion, lambasting any attempts to rest as a sign of weakness. He only stopped when the boy had finally passed out from blood loss.

The man had merely sired the boy out of necessity, deciding the entire course of his life since before his conception. The oni blood transfused into the mother during pregnancy had been what killed her at the child's birth, but as far as the father was concerned, the experiment was a resounding success. An heir to the clan that could combat both human and oni on equal footing was born, thanks to the monstrous blood flowing through his veins.

Unfortunately, that demonic blood had undergone a form of mutation over time, becoming toxic when exposed to air through open wounds. Mere minutes of exposure killed a normal human within hours; several clan members had already suffered that fate since the boy's shinobi training began. As a result, only 'he' was permitted to medically treat the boy, being that 'he' was the only one completely immune to the blood's poisonous effects.

A hand gently brushed aside blood red strands of hair that covered the boy's face. 'His' ward's left eye creaked open, looking to his caretaker with a longing he reserved solely for 'him,' of a child seeking comfort in the one person in the world to care for them.

Moments like these were all that were afforded for the two; no words needed to be said.

What a twisted irony it was, that the boy's singular source of human connection would come from such an inhuman construct as 'him.'

-----

The Tiger of Kai watched with little remorse at the display before him.

'He' did the same from 'his' place in the shadows.

The man kneeling before the warlord was a sacrifice, taking 'his' place on the executioner's block. His would-be killers either stood impassively in place or scornfully glowered down at the captured 'spy.'

'He' had seen this coming, and from even further away than Lord Kenshin's betrayal. Lord Takeda merely waited for what he perceived to be a prime opportunity to have 'him' killed.

It had been no trouble to find a peasant of similar build and age to 'his' public persona. Far simpler was it to apply a long-lasting illusion over the man's face and body to bear 'his' likeness even after death. Lord Takeda himself, always a careful and calculating man, was fooled by the facade as well.

Bound and gagged, the victim was not even allowed the privilege of final words. Regardless of what they could have been, though, whether a plea for mercy or to spit upon the offer, nothing he said would change his fate.

Lord Takeda's gunbai waved down, signaling to carry on with the execution.

There was nothing more to see here. 'He' turned and began traversing the nearby forest, just as the sound of steel meeting flesh reached 'his' ears.

-----

'He' lay on the ground, broken beyond repair. A dilapidated tool that had outlived all usefulness.

It was inevitable after Lord Kashin's disappearance. Minor systems gave out at first, little things that could be ignored or substituted. When the auto-repair systems failed, however, the delicacies of 'his' inner mechanisms fell into disarray one another in a swift chain reaction. 'He' felt no pain, but 'he' felt 'his' body coming apart.

Within weeks, the servos in 'his' limbs began to creak and groan, and the pumps inside 'his' abdominal cavity would jam regularly. Near constant maintenance proved to be too consuming of time and resources, and even then, the patchwork of fixes was still not enough. To make matters far worse, 'his' memory began failing as well. Critical information went missing periodically, and even the ability to perform simple tasks failed because the procedures were not available.

The situation came to a point where the Fūma were not willing to bear 'him' any longer. And so, the head of the clan cast 'him' out. Not long after, 'his' joints cracked and fell to pieces, leaving 'him' to crumble to the dirt face down.

While 'his' body remained where it lay, wasting away to the elements, 'his' mind remained intact, still working as it was the day 'he' was first activated. In time, though, 'his' core would fade as well. The last dregs of power meant to supply 'his' body would diminish, leaving a shell as empty as any corpse.

It could not be helped. But… Even so…

Had 'he' not done his duty? Had 'he' not done all that was ordered of 'him?' Had 'his' work for the clan not been enough to see them into the future?

Then why…

…

W̶̢̼̭̯̫͙͊̉ͮ̊h̪y.̧̙͎̞̒ͪ̓.̸̰̰̒ͧ͟.̲̳̻̄͗̒̆̚͟͠ͅ

…

…

Ā̶̳͖̗̠͢͟͟ͅ_̛̙̖̖͊ s̶̮̯͈̦̞͙̍ͥ̅̒̽ͤͭ͊ͩ̈ͫ͘͝͝͞h̻̱͓͂͛ͯͯ̉ͨ͒ï̟͐͑̓͠_̸̨̗̳͇̾͑̈̽̎ͯͫ̇͊ͥn͉͚ͩͬ̄ͯ͐ọ̸̷̶̸̡͈͚̝̙͍̻͖͚̣̃̌ͥ͌͛̿ͨ̌͐̌͗̎̕͜͟͞b̶̮͇̏ͯ͘_͓i̝͇̪̙̙ͪ̉͒̇̎̋͐ͩ̔͢͟͡͝ ǐ̈ͣ̈s̵̴̨͔̦̣͖̩̙̰̘͖͎̓̇ͩͯ̿ͦ͂͆̅́̑ͨ͒͐͘͘̕͢͜͠͡_ ȯ̶̶̩̖̠̤̥̘̦̲̼͔̅̾̈́͑̇ͫ̆̿͋ͮ̃ͭ̉͒̒͋ͧ̚̚n̷̵̨̲̞̟̥͕͕͖̟̳̩͍̻̗͔͛̐̈́̏͂́ͬ̋ͪ̌̕̕͘͜͠͠͠_̫̰͛ͨ͡ȩ̸̧̤̩͔̟̙̪͍͍̠̪̖͚̖̣̻͉̽̈́́̋̍͊̈́́̄̑ͨ͆̽͌͑ͧͯͣ̕͟͡ w̵̢͙̯̟̲̬̭͓̳̯̤̱̮͇̩͓̪̺̰͒͒͗ͦ̓́̊̾̌ͫ͒̓ͫͪ͋ͪͫ͋ͦ̽̒͜͟͡͞͡͡ḩ̨̡̛̞̩̩̗̣͕̬͙̯̼͈̩ͨ̀̐̓ͩͨ̿̎ͤ͜͜͠o͍͕̜̲͉̦̘͙̻͗̎̒ͫ̍̀̔̀̇͗̾ͅ_̴ͩͩ̐͢_̸̡͎̭ͨͩ̂̅̐ͦͫ͊͊ͧ̆̀ͦ̕ͅ e̶̛͇̼̞̹͚͎̜͂ͬ̄̎ͭ̎̂͑ͫ̊̈͂ͣ̈ͭ̚͘͢͢͠ͅn̴̮͓͉͉̮̭ͪ̽͐ͤͣ͛̔̔́͊ͣ͡_̷̛̳̤̟̬̹̼͎̣̯̬̆ͧ̔̅ͬ̆͘̕͜d̼̥̟̦͡u̴͇̮͍͔̻͓͍̜̱ͥ́ͣ͒ͪ͑͘͘͢_̷̶̛͇̼̝͙͖͑̀̎ͩ͆̏̂̀̏͛͒͝ŗ̵̝͉̩̲̹͈̥̰̪̞̦̯͎̗̪̙̪̞̜ͯ̔̓̊ͬ̑ͮͬ̉ͫ͋͘̕e̵̸̳̻͔̰̞̲̗͉͓͕̻͖͕̲ͩͥͣ͂̌̍̊̈́͑̍̋ͣ͘͡͞ͅs.̶̡̛͓̻͕̱̱͔͔̦̺͗̆̽ͦͬ̇͛͌ͬͥ͊ͪ̈́̾͒͋̂͘_͈

…

…

---

His eyes shot open, and his gasp broke the silence of the bedroom. This was followed shortly by a loud, hoarse cough as he had inhaled saliva down his windpipe.

He turned over, trying to work out the obstruction, until the door flung open.

“Master?” The Heroic Spirit of Assassination was beside him in an instant, pulling him into a sitting position. “What happened?”

Connor's gaze went to the mechanical arm that rested on his leg, then to the eyes of the Servant who wielded that arm.

A cold sheen of sweat covered his body and soaked into his black t-shirt and shorts, giving him a chill. Tossing off the blanket, his left hand went under his shirt to feel his chest.

*Bum-bump... Bum-bump... Bum-bump*

The steady, rhythmic beat of his heart reassured him that what he saw was just a dream, but he knew better. He hadn't seen some wild conjuring of his subconscious mind, not with that kind of clarity. Those were memories he had witnessed; the records of actions and thoughts in the midst of events he couldn't possibly have experienced firsthand.

'So that's what the Cycle feels like…'

“Just a weird dream…” he assuaged after one final cough, “…I'm fine… but I do need a shower…”

Taking in the lack of an evident threat to him, the alarm in her expression slowly settled down. However, she nonetheless sent a look of concern his way as he pushed himself up and left for the bathroom.

Standing still under the shower nozzle, he let the gentle cascade steadily warm his chilled body. It was a welcome relief, but the hot water did little to wash away the memories of what he witnessed. Or what he felt.

Pride… Guilt… Frustration… Despair…

The actions of the body he 'inhabited' were out of his command, yet the consequent feelings weighed upon him as they did for the one in control. And that sense extended to more than just emotions. When Assassin's hand touched the boy's head, he somehow felt it, too. The discovery that she had a fully functional sense of touch notwithstanding…

His hand went up to lightly graze his forehead, mirroring the action he saw from the dream. The texture of smooth skin that met his fingers –exactly as he remembered feeling– prompted a rather ominous thought: If he could feel in the Dream Cycle what his Servants felt in their lives, and he were to witness Caster's memories… what would happen? Would he feel everything?

Even death?

Minutes later, after cleaning up and donning dry clothes, Connor rested his head in his hands at the tiny breakfast table. By then, most of the feelings had abated, set aside while his mind raced.

“Rough night, huh? Wanna talk about it?”

The voice urged him to lift his head and meet the crimson eyes of the long dead druid standing beside him, breakfast in hand. Master and Servant stared at one another in silence, until the younger man leaned back and sighed.

“…Eventually.” He sounded as tired as he felt, and the day had only just started.

His gaze drifted to the coffee table, where a crude map of Kuoh Town lay strewn across its surface. Highlighters of various colors marked specific points connected by lines, arcs and circles.

Ever since the meeting with Slash/Dog, Assassin had been tasked with trailing each team member on their separate patrol routes, marking them on the map where Connor and Caster could study them. Several days of shadowing proved useful in discovering what gaps existed in their security. The routes overlapped one another in several places, covering the majority of Kuoh, but there was one area that Tobio went back and forth across while the others didn't.

The two-lane road leading north-northeast of town, towards Connor's apartment.

By no means was that a coincidence; it was very clearly intentional. The question now became what that intent might mean. Was it a trick meant for the Brigade, or for him? Or perhaps both?

“Second thoughts? There's still time,” the older man reminded, setting the plate down.

The question spurred Connor back to the present, his hand clenching into a fist.

“…No. We're sticking with the plan, and today'll be a good day to set some traps. Just in case.”

Caster nodded and wordlessly returned to the kitchen, leaving the young Master to go about his Sunday morning rituals.

Azazel could play whatever double-faced games he wanted, but Connor aimed to play this game by his own rules.

---

As Wednesday evening rolled around, Issei found himself once more in a state of great unease. To be frank, he felt more nervous now than he did when hell itself was let loose to try and kill them all.

Rias had just received a message from Sona, and the leaders of Heaven, Grigori and the Underworld had arrived at the academy's assembly hall. The time to talk terms was finally at hand.

“If something happens, you'll send an alert, right?” Rias double-checked with her Rook.

“We'll be fine, Buchō,” Koneko affirmed, setting a box of snacks on the coffee table. While Rias and the others would be attending the meeting, she would stay in the clubroom with Gasper to help with his acclimatization.

“Y-yeah.” Gasper's choice of seat was the cardboard box on the floor that he'd brought from his room; one of many out of his personal collection.

“Well then, shall we depart?”

“Almost. One last thing…” Issei took out an old Nintendo DS from his back pocket and approached a curious Gasper. “Here, to pass the time tonight. I haven't played it in years, so don't worry about whatever save file is there.”

Gasper beamed, looking Issei right in the eyes.

“Cool! Thank you!”

Issei smiled back. It was hard to believe that, just a short time ago, this was the same scared kid that wouldn't have anything to do with the outside world.

“Oh my~ You and Gasper have gotten really close, haven't you?” Akeno teased, her hand on her cheek.

Both boys blushed and Issei shrugged. “Uh, well… we just found something that worked, that's all.”

“So you did, and I'm beyond proud of you both for that.” Rias' compliment had the effect of turning his and Gasper's faces atomic, which in turn made Akeno and Kiba chuckle.

The jovial mood between the four Devils faded, however, just as soon as the group exited the clubhouse. Upon opening the front door, a tenseness hit them like a wave of air out of the Arctic North.

From the steps, Issei could see the security detail of all three factions posted around the academy. He estimated around thirty on each side, clad in full armor and weapons in hand. While most of these soldiers hovered in midair formations, some had taken to standing on rooftops, but everyone bore postures that all but dared somebody to make the first move.

As the group came within range, heads turned to observe them through helmets and armored masks. Rias put up as dignified an air as she could with so many eyes on them, something that Issei wasn't quite able to emulate. Keeping his back straight was about all he could manage under those stares.

Maybe this was how Gasper felt under the eyes of strangers; like being watched by carnivorous birds as if you were their natural prey.

Entering the meeting room wasn't much of a break, either. At the large round table situated beneath a Western glass chandelier, the waiting delegates turned their gazes upon the new arrivals in unison.

Sirzechs and Serafall sat at one side together, both dressed in formal military and business suits, respectively. It was weird to Issei, having seen Serafall in just a magical girl outfit before, that the woman could pull off looking as sharp as she did in her dark green suit with a pink jabot necktie. Grayfia was present as well, standing next to Sirzechs in her instantly recognizable maid uniform, and Sona and Tsubaki waited like statues by the wall behind the three.

Seated to their left was another man. Light blond hair fell to his shoulders, much like Sirzechs' red, while green eyes and a gentle smile silently greeted Rias' group. He wore a rather elaborate getup; red and white robes with golden shoulder plates and a white sash. The most telling sign of his identity was the glowing halo that hovered over his head; who else but an Angel would have that?

At his side, a young woman in a traditional Catholic nun's habit stood as quietly as Grayfia, observing the new arrivals. Based on her skin tone and face, Issei figured her to be from either Central or Eastern Europe. Several strands of blonde hair peeked out under her headpiece, and her blue eyes carefully regarded everyone before returning to face forward.

Across from the Demon Kings sat a smirking Azazel wearing a maroon long coat with a deep v-cut in the chest. Behind him was a silver-haired young man piercingly staring at Issei. This was the same guy that showed up at the academy gate last week just to taunt and threaten him, revealing himself to be the one that defeated Kokabiel.

Kiba cast a glance between the two, no doubt sensing the same tension that Issei was experiencing.

“Permit me to introduce you all,” Sirzechs announced, “to my younger sister, Rias Gremory, and her household. Whilst Serafall battled Kokabiel, they fought tooth and nail to keep his horde of demonic beasts from causing widespread damage.”

“Well met,” the Angel said, his voice as soft as his expression.

“Good job, hanging in there,” Azazel complimented, even though it sounded just a bit mocking.

“Now that all required parties have arrived, let the record show that this summit between the three Biblical factions has officially commenced,” Grayfia declared from the open area of the table. “Firstly, Lady Rias Gremory and Lady Sona Sitri shall deliver their official reports of the conflict instigated at this academy.”

The two Kings recounted the events of the battle for the next several minutes, including as much as detail as possible from start to finish. From his position, he could see Azazel looking down in thought every now and then, while the seated Angel remained focused on the sequence of events.

As the reports concluded, the Angel leaned forward to pose a question to Sona.

“You speak of an associate who forewarned you of Kokabiel's plan whilst also delaying it, Lady Sitri. And you have worked with them in the past, is that correct?” Sona nodded. “Then, as Heaven's representative in this summit, I wish to extend the collective gratitude of both the Church and Heaven itself to this individual for their part in preventing a disaster.”

Sona nodded once more. “I will ensure that they receive your message, Lord Michael.”

“Thank you, girls. You're dismissed,” Serafall bid professionally to both Kings, who bowed and stepped away from the table.

Sirzechs turned to Azazel.

“Now then, is there anything that you would like to add, Governor-General?”

The Fallen Angel shrugged. “I'm not sure what it is you're expecting, not that it matters. Kokabiel's decisions were entirely his own.”

“And according to your calculations, correct?” 'Michael' followed up, to which Azazel smirked.

“Sometimes the best way to catch someone in the act is to let them think you don't care what they're doing. They'll get overconfident and make a mistake at a crucial moment. It's a wonder he didn't take that lesson to heart from before, but whatever; that's on him. He didn't even know that I was already in Kuoh around the time of his attack. I could've jumped in at any moment.”

“And yet, you didn't,” Serafall noted.

“My boy Vali took care of it, didn't he?” He hiked his thumb to the man behind him, who made no move to acknowledge the praise, seeming wholly disinterested already. “Kokabiel was finished after the first hit.”

Issei paled slightly.

'One hit? I didn't even have time to think about getting close enough to try! And this guy just…'

“Keep it together, hatchling. His eyes are still on you.”

Ddraig's warning caused Issei to glance at 'Vali,' whose expression hadn't changed aside from a slightly smug arch of an eyebrow.

“Besides, I'd say he's paying for his mistakes in full now, in the lowest level of Hell.”

“We're getting off the subject,” Sirzechs calmly interjected.

“Indeed. The real crux of the matter was Kokabiel's motivation. His dissatisfaction with the war's end could only be part of the problem, knowing him.”

Azazel fixed his gaze on Michael. “Are you saying that you know the mind of my subordinate better than I do?”

“Pure or Fallen, we were all brothers and sisters born from the same Father,” the Great Seraph reminded. “I firmly remember Kokabiel being among the most fervent in carrying out Father's will as an Angel. He was also never the type to give up once he set his mind on something. This is not his first time attempting such a move, and it speaks to his growing discontent not just with the war, but with the underlying dilemma we continue to face today.”

With every word that Michael spoke, the casual mirth in Azazel's eyes faded, especially at the mention of 'Father.' By the end of the extrapolation, the Cadre leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed.

“You're awfully pushy tonight. I thought we were here to talk about moving forward, not raking up the past,” he prompted, almost as if in warning.

“The echoes of the past shape the future. A lasting peace may be our goal here, but how can we do that while withholding secrets that could potentially shatter what we build?” Michael turned his gaze to the heiresses and their servants. “Considering who it was that faced the consequences of our inaction, I believe the time has come to formally address the issue.”

“Then you can start, 'brother.'”

To say the least, Issei was concerned. Azazel was always such a talker on contracts, sharing stories and engaging with Issei as much as he could about everything, especially women. Seeing him withdraw was unnerving; each passing second made this discussion feel more like a dangerous game of poker.

Michael said nothing for a moment, merely staring back at his 'brother,' before he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them again, he looked to the two Demon Kings solemnly.

“You two already know of this, but your siblings and their households do not. It is something that we have all questioned for centuries, but none have ever been able to solve. The truth behind the Great War's conclusion is that there was no real conclusion. In the wake of the final battle, both Father and the four original Satans completely disappeared.”

---

Inside the ORC building, Koneko sat on one of the couches, now snacking away at the cookies freshly baked by Akeno before she left. This batch of dark chocolate and macadamia nut had just the right amount of crunch and chewiness to keep her mind at work.

Sugary snacks always helped her think, and she would never turn away food for thought.

…

She didn't care what anyone said, that was a good pun.

Beside her, having transferred his box there, the little dhampir was completely engrossed in the game that Issei had loaned to him. It was some kind of retro Mario game, as evidenced by the iconic jumping sound effect she kept hearing.

Issei didn't know how lucky he was, and it made Koneko feel somewhat jealous of him, though she would never verbally admit to such feelings. It took months for Gasper to warm up to Koneko, but he had taken to Issei within just a few days. Kiba hadn't taken very long, either, now that she thought about it; maybe two weeks at the most. Even Saji was well on his way now, after that thing at the gym on Saturday.

'It must be a guy thing, to connect so easily.'

Even though she and Gasper were in the same grade, she was older by a couple of months, and he had only become a Devil just a year ago against her four years under Rias. These two factors made Koneko his senior and, in a way, his older sister.

Ironically, they also made Azazel's comment about the garlic sting just a bit more. She would never actually touch Gasper with it or make him eat it, not in a million years. She was just trying to get him to move. Gasper understood that, didn't he?

Was that not what big brothers and sisters did to their siblings every now and then? Tease and pester for a while, then hug it out? Lord Sirzechs and Lady Serafall did it all the time. Even her own big sister was like that. At least, back before…

“…?”

Hearing an unexpected end to the crunching of snacks, Gasper looked up.

“Konek-”

“Ssh!”

She slowly put her latest cookie back on the table and stood up, her eyes gliding from one side of the room to another. The boy in the box anxiously glanced around, cowering slowly into his shelter.

Without the music and sounds of Gasper's game, the room became eerily quiet. More so than usual.

Something was wrong.

A sudden flux of energy was her only warning before both hers and Gasper's bodies were inexplicably frozen in place. She tried to struggle; tried to tear herself free but, for the life of her, she couldn't move. She could hardly clench her hand into a fist!

Wait… she recognized that energy… She hadn't felt it in years, but the memory of its sensation had been ingrained into her memory. It was…

“That's just disappointing.”

Despite being immobilized, Koneko felt her blood run cold and the hair on every inch of her scalp try to stand on end. No… it couldn't be…

“I was really looking forward to this reunion, y'know? I wanted to see how much you've grown in the time I've been away, but you didn't even notice me until I was right behind you. Sneaking through Devil barriers is one thing, but you? You were always so attentive, so observant.” The sultry female voice suddenly changed to carry a venomous undertone. “Not anymore, it seems. Oh, the words I shall have with your master~”

A hand delicately landed on her shoulder, sending another deathly chill up her spine.

“My goodness, 'Kitten,' you're shaking like a leaf~” the voice tittered cheekily. “What's the matter? Did a bigger cat cross your path?”

Please, not her!

“Oh, silly me, that's exactly what's happening now.”

The owner of the hand walked around Koneko, still grasping her shoulder as the woman stepped into view. She wore a black kimono –barely secured in place by a yellow obi and a rope of black and golden beads– which did little to cover a voluptuous figure that would have most males drooling rivers. Feline ears stood atop her head and two tails emerged from under her kimono, all of which matched her midnight black hair that flowed down her back while split bangs came to an end just above her hazel, cat-like eyes.

How? How was she here?

Why was she here?!

The woman tilted her head, staring down at Koneko as the playful smile on her face widened.

“Long time no see… Shirone.”

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 25: Routine Chaos

The Sitri heiress was the first to break the silence in the conference room.

“Wh… What do you mean, 'disappeared?'”

“They're gone, outta here, AWOL, like vestiges of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished.” Azazel's churlish response complimented the crease in his brow.

“How?” Rias added, just as confused as Sona. “How could they all just… vanish? God is supposed to be omnipresent, among other things, isn't He?”

“It would perhaps be more helpful if we were to cover the events leading up to the final battle,” Michael suggested, to which Azazel shrugged.

Though he did not immediately agree, neither did the Governor-General outright deny that he would add to the discussion. The look of frustration in his eyes was evidence of his desire to speak his mind.

Sirzechs supposed that this was the first time in a long time that the topic had even been broached.

With no objection presented, Michael began.

“In the mid-14^th century, much of Europe was ravaged by The Black Death. Within a single decade, the most widespread loss of human life was wrought upon the world since the time of the Great Flood. The Catholic Church lost much of the authority that it held at the time, due to failed attempts to contain or otherwise explain the epidemic, and western civilization's general belief in God was left in a precarious state. Heaven, Grigori and the Underworld could not afford to overlook such a drastic shift in human perceptions of the divine.

“The war began five years after the plague's onset as a result of increasing conflicts between the factions, lasting no less than one hundred years at its climax. A blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things, but not for those who experienced it.”

“France and England had their own Hundred Years War, and so did all of our people,” Sirzechs hummed. “Myself and the current Satans were born a couple of centuries afterwards, so we learned about all this through historical accounts. From what we were taught, that final year was going pretty badly for the Underworld.”

“Yes, dwindling resources and declining morale forced them on the defensive. Every major operation they tried to make in the human world was pushed back within months, either by Grigori or Heaven, and that only happened when the two weren't busy fighting each other. Battles were not usually determined by victories or defeats, but by body count; quite simply, however many more of which side perished in the next engagement.

“Towards the war's end, Ddraig and Albion began their generational battle once again, having been left to their own devices in the Underworld for decades. This time, though, their fighting spilled over into the human world and caused the deadliest earthquake in Italy's history at the time. Tens of thousands were killed, and even more were sure to perish if the dragons were not stopped.”

“That's when the cease-fire happened, right?” Rias asked, to which Michael nodded.

“The first one, at least. Tracking them down proved difficult because they never stayed in one place for their battles, and they always occurred where we couldn't stop them in time. When we finally did corner them, it took everything all three sides could manage just to hold them down and seal them into temporary vessels. We thought that was the end of it, but the nightmare had only just begun. The dragons woke something up in their last battle, something that all factions feared more than anything; the Beast of the Apocalypse. We call it Trihexa, after the number that Father designated to it: 666.”

The strongest reaction from the younger Devils came courtesy of Sona, who swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Then… it's real?”

“Undeniably. It was a monster unlike anything Father had created. Its sole purpose was to destroy the Earth and all life upon it, but it was only supposed to awaken during the end times, after Father saw fit to bring about rapture.” Michael's eyes grimly went to the table. “Looking back, I can't help but wonder if the Dragon Emperors were somehow a deterrent for the Beast. And that by sealing them, we created an opportunity for it to bring the world's end prematurely.”

The Great Seraph breathed deeply before looking up.

“That aside, Trihexa's emergence prompted Father to take to the battlefield for the first time. This proved to all sides just how dire the situation was; everyone unanimously turned their weapons from each other to the Beast, even the Devils. We managed to lure it into the open ocean and away from human civilization, but the casualties suffered in the process were enormous. Father used all His authority to put that monster back to rest at the bottom of the sea once more.”

“So, what made God and the four Satans disappear, if not Trihexa?” Issei asked.

At this point, Azazel finally spoke up, leaning forward to do so.

“Well, the original Satans tried to pull a fast one while everyone was coming down off of that second cataclysm. In a bid to even the odds of the war in their favor, they weaponized the Curse of Samael, and used it on themselves; Samael being the first true Satan, the one who used the serpent in the Garden of Eden to tempt the first humans to sin. They transformed into false dragons, lost their minds and went on a rampage that made Ddraig and Albion's final clash look like a weekend bar fight.

“They were even massacring their own people, but it wasn't like they could stop themselves, or that anyone else could, for that matter. By then, nobody was in any condition to even resist, save for the Old Man. They charged him all at once, and He met them head on. Then there was this flash of light, and by the time everyone could see again, all five of them were gone.”

The blunt, dismissive explanation left the younger Devils more baffled than ever, it seemed.

Issei made to comment, until Michael interceded.

“To clarify, we would have felt His death in the back of our minds –all Angels would have– like a piece of ourselves was torn away from our bodies, but we didn't. Yet, at the same time, we can't sense His presence anywhere. Father well and truly disappeared, Him and the Satans.”

Azazel continued, “Tensions still hung, but Heaven and Grigori called it quits on the war at about the same time. We were all in shock and needed to really sit down and catch our breaths, even Kokabiel.”

“And on our side, Zekram Bael asserted his authority as the eldest Devil still alive and forced the faction as a whole to stand down,” Sirzechs added, tying up the topic's loose end. “This was met with resistance, particularly from the older generations, but Zekram was quick to shut them down. He did what he could to keep our society together until the Devil Civil War broke out some time later.”

Azazel let his head rest on a closed fist once more. “So… there you have it; gone in a blink. Kinda stupid, huh? All that chaos and destruction, only for such an anticlimactic end that not even Shakespeare could salvage.”

“So, all this time, God has just been gone, and… Who's been in charge of Heaven?”

“I have,” Michael answered Rias, “but I could never manage His creations the way He could. My inadequacies as a leader were evident from the moment I assumed control. At best, I've only been able to keep things afloat. Both Heaven and the Grigori spent countless decades looking for a lead that might show what Father had done. But, nothing has ever come of it.”

“Really?” Serafall pondered, looking to Azazel. “Why look for Him if you hate Him?”

“I don't hate Him; I made my choices and paid the price, like every other Fallen. I'm just mad because I still can't make sense of what He did. Knowing how He worked and predicting His next moves gave the Grigori an edge during the war that we needed. But then, out of nowhere, He turns everything we ever knew or believed about Him on its head!”

The Cadre leaned back in his seat again. “What makes it worse is the fact that He left Heaven structured in such a way that somebody even could operate it without Him there. It makes a guy wonder if this is another one of His tests.”

“That is a discussion for another time.” Michael once more addressed the younger generation of Devils. “For better or worse, the three factions have made many enemies over the course of history, by their own actions or by those of the people who follow them. Do you understand now why this had to be kept a secret for so long?”

“Yes…” Sona answered solemnly. “News of the biblical God's disappearance would have created a power vacuum in the supernatural side of the world. Any pantheon aware of the truth would jump at the chance to seize the influence over humanity that was left in His absence. There was no other choice; the cover-up had to be kept at all costs.”

“You're exactly right, Sona,” Serafall confirmed, “and now that it's come to this, it's about time we really started thinking as a collective about moving forward. For the sake of everyone.”

“Oh, good, I was beginning to think we'd never get back on track. So what's your take, Vali? As the current White Dragon Emperor, you and your rival hold some legitimate sway in these talks.”

The silverette's gaze lingered on Issei for a moment, before he shrugged.

“You know me; as long as I get to fight someone strong every now and then, it makes no difference.”

“Of course you'd say that,” the Fallen Angel chuckled. “Good thing you don't necessarily need a war for you to test yourself.”

“And you, Red Dragon Emperor?” Sirzechs prompted Issei. “How do you feel about this agreement?”

“Oh, umm… er…” Issei's hand went to the back of his neck, anxious at having been put on the spot. “…Well, let's just say that I'm not what someone would call an 'academic.' I barely kept up with the story about the war, but… I don't think it's worth holding onto old grudges. Of course, what do I know about that? I just think that constantly fighting over the past would keep you from doing the things you wanna do in life. So, uh… yeah, I'll take peace, please.”

The Pawn of Gremory noticed the smiles bloom on his friends' faces, just as Sirzechs let one of his own spread across his lips. This was what he and the New Satans fought in the Civil War to protect: precious moments like this, that gave hope for a better future to a people that knew only violence and death for millennia. He just knew that Serafall was positively beaming at the sight as well.

“Couldn't have said that better, kid.” Azazel's remark was more genuine than before, as was his smirk.

“But,” Issei continued, his tone changing while he fixed his gaze onto Azazel. “…with all that being said, there is something that I need to ask for my own sake.”

The Satan Lucifer's smile faded upon noticing the struggle in Issei's eyes.

“Why did Raynare kill me?”

The question came as a surprise to everyone, none more so than Rias or her other servants.

The Governor-General returned the Pawn's stare for a moment before answering.

“I hadn't ordered her to do that, if that's what you're wondering,” he started neutrally. “She wasn't even supposed to make contact with you.”

“Then why?” Issei pressed.

“Her original task was just to observe you and make sure that your Sacred Gear hadn't affected your mental state, as is often the case with unknowing awakenings. But, a certain someone undercut my authority and gave her permission to be more, quote, direct in dealing with the boy, unquote. Care to guess who?”

“Kokabiel… but–”

Issei made to say something else, only to be cut off when a wave of power suddenly swept over the entire room. Sirzechs hadn't felt it in a long time, but he would recognize it anywhere. Forbidden Balor View had somehow activated.

In the instant before the room was fully engulfed, something shifted in the far corner, unbeknownst to all.

---

Within the cover of a tree just outside the Kuoh Academy walls, a maroon- and black-clad humanoid figure balanced delicately on a small branch.

'Apologies, Master, but I was forced to abort,' Assassin reported.

'I'm glad you did, I've got no response from any of the proximity runes on campus. What's going on out there?'

The automaton adjusted her position, her onboard sensors recalibrating. Her golden eyes scanned the area, taking note of everything within the barrier.

The security squads appeared immobilized, and there was no movement of any kind elsewhere. Even several birds that had been in mid-flight came to a complete halt, now suspended in the air.

'I'm not sure, but it looks as if time itself has stopped across the entire school. The only ones unaffected are the faction leaders.'

The signs were present, albeit faint; through the windows of the assembly hall, she could make out the slight turn of heads and expressions of surprise.

' Okay, so whatever happened might've been too weak for them, ' he speculated, ' but if it's locked down everything else, then a siege is definitely on the way. '

' Your orders, Master? '

'Don't risk going back in, not yet. Maintain your current position and continue surveillance; let's see where this goes.'

' Understood. '

Master was correct in his presumption that the Devils would check the assembly hall for all manner of surveillance devices before the meeting commenced. As such, her job had been to monitor the events firsthand from a position where she would be difficult, if not impossible, to detect. Despite her Presence Concealment ability in conjunction with spirit form proving effective against the Satans at close range, her lord had mandated that she keep her distance and have several escape routes in place should something go awry.

Details of the Abrahamic God's current status mattered little to her, but it was certainly the type of information Master would find beneficial. She did wonder with slight concern, though, how Lady Argento would take it if she knew.

Assassin did not ponder for long before large clusters of magic circles appeared over the academy from within the barrier. Robed figures slowly emerged from their centers, each wearing a hood with the insignia of three eyes stacked atop one another.

The descending figures turned in unison to face the main building, then opened fire.

---

Tobio’s boots echoed against the quiet streets on Kuoh’s north end, the patrol route more than familiar by now.

He was approaching the edge of the empty park, its trees uttering a soft song in the light wind. When he felt the ripple, he stopped mid-step. It was the kind of disturbance that made instincts bristle and breaths shorten before the mind caught up. But then, just as quickly as it came, the sensation was gone.

His earpiece flicked to life as the team-wide comm spell activated.

“Hey, you guys feel that?” Kōki asked briskly.

“Yeah! Lavinia, what was that?”

“Something's happened with the perimeter barrier,” the witch answered, her route to the east giving her a clear view of the academy. “I can't contact Lord Azazel. Wait… magicians have just teleported inside. I recognize those robes; they're from Nilrem! They're attacking the school!”

“This was not unexpected,” Tobio reminded, “Stay the course and let the bosses handle them.”

There were multiple barriers in place at the academy tonight for just such a situation as this. It would take a while for these attackers to crack open the next one, much less the one after that.

“Geez, the things we do for… Wait, hold on.”

“Kōki?”

Silence followed, until the agent shouted. “Damn, I got a live one here! A little squirt of a kid just spawned an army of shadow beasts to the west! It's Annihilation Maker, repeat, Annihilation Maker!”

'Damn' was right.

“Kōki, intercept and hold them off as best you can, Natsume and I are on the way! Lavinia, keep your eyes open for any other signs of trouble!”

“Affermativa!”

“Race you there, Tobio!”

“Take your time, I'll have plenty to keep me busy here!” The crackle of lightning in the background told the agent that his friend had already gotten started.

Kōki and his Sacred Gear, Panthera Fulminus –or Byakusa, as he called it –were practically made for fighting against heavily stacked odds like this. Even they had their limits, however, and Annihilation Maker was among the few Gears in the world that seemingly possessed none.

Jin looked up expectantly, a gleam in the Gear's crimson eyes reflecting his own. His partner in tow, the agent took off toward the combat zone at full speed.

Within seconds, he arrived, cresting a low rise that led to an open field just beyond the town's outer limits. He was greeted to the smell of ozone, and the sight of an army of twisted shadows marching in silent ranks, their forms flickering between man and shade.

At the far rear of the formation, a boy no older than fifteen impassively watched as the army advanced. His dark skin tone contrasted against short gray hair, and the long hooded coat he wore largely concealed a deep-blue and gold uniform. An aura billowed off of him that reminded Tobio of the days he had fought to better control his own Balance Break. This, however, felt far more volatile.

Kōki was in the thick of the horde, with Byakusa deftly perched on his shoulder in its miniaturized form. One of its two tails wrapped around the agent's left arm and hand to form a lance, while the other twisted around its partner like a whip, snapping to deflect incoming attacks from behind.

They were holding their own well enough, judging by the savage excitement on Kōki's face, but the enemy numbers were increasing.

A sharp whistle pierced through the air, fast and rising in pitch. Tobio’s gaze flicked to his left, just as Natsume swept in from the south atop Griffin. The avatar of Ithaqua Squall angled down and dove, bringing with it a lethal air current that sliced through the clustered hostiles like a massive blade. The wind screamed as they sped by, scattering twisted forms across the grassy flat.

But even before the pair came back around for another pass, shadows crawled and limbs knitted, largely undeterred by the path torn into them.

It would take more dedicated power to combat this force.

A pitch-black war scythe, blade alight with cursed black flames, formed in Tobio's hands before he and a sword-wielding Jin leaped into the fray as well, shadow after shadow cut to shreds in their wake. The masses of darkness touched by his blade failed to reform, remaining strewn upon the ground in pieces. He continued until he reached Kōki, a silent nod going between the two as they stood back to back.

More constructs pressed the attack, closing in on the agents.

If the shadows wanted ground, they’d have to scale a mountain of their fallen first.

---

Issei had only blinked, but the entire world seemed to stop right in its tracks.

Rias, Sona, and everyone in their peerages were suddenly frozen in place; a light blue aura covered their bodies while they remained motionless where they stood. Even the expressions of concern at his question to Azazel remained on their faces, as if they were painted on.

'What the heck?'

Looking around, he found that the leaders, Grayfia, Vali and Issei himself were the only ones still able to move.

“Of course. It's only right now that the roaches come crawling out of the woodwork,” the Grigori leader groaned, his eyes closed in annoyance.

“W-What just happened?” Issei blurted.

“It would seem that we're under attack.” Sirzechs glanced to his sister and her peerage before regarding the man opposite him at the table. “And you seem terribly underwhelmed. Is there something else you need to tell us, Azazel?”

“Well, I did kind of figure that there would be some… opposition to this little gathering, so I posted some of my own agents in Kuoh as extra security. Obviously, though, these guys were more prepared than I gave them credit for.”

The nonchalance of his remark starkly contrasted with the intense explosions just beyond the room's walls.

“And when were you going to inform us of this?” a deadly serious Serafall demanded.

“The moment that it became necessary. While it is a bit lackluster, I gotta say, hijacking the school's outer barrier and forcing the dhampir kid into a Balance Break state was pretty clever.”

“Wait, they got Gasper?!”

“I'm afraid that's the case, Issei,” Sirzechs answered. “Balor View is already frighteningly powerful, and Gasper's potential with it is even more so. If he were any stronger in its use, he might have even trapped every one of us, despite the gap.”

“There is still a chance for that to occur the longer we wait.” A magic circle hovering in Grayfia's hand fizzed and crackled. “Communication and teleportation magics are being jammed as well. We are effectively cut off from the outside.”

“On top of that, it looks like they've sealed off all of our security forces.” Michael's gaze at the window shifted between two group of guards. “Some sort of isolation fields; they'll probably stay up even if Balor View comes down.”

Sirzechs' brow furrowed. “They've planned for everything, right down to the fine details. Between this timing and the forces they've brought to bear here…”

“Someone in the three factions sold us out.” Serafall concluded grimly.

Issei balked. A traitor? Why? Was the idea of peace really that detestable to some people? As if Kokabiel hadn't been enough!

“We can deal with that later. First things first. Grayfia, start analyzing this teleportation gate, and see what you can do about shutting it down.”

“Yes, Lord Lucifer.” Without another word, the silver-haired maid set to work, summoning a pair of magic circles between her hands.

“Issei.”

“Y-Yes- Yes, sir?” He kicked himself mentally for that stutter.

“Can I count on you to find Gasper and release him from the enemy's control?”

“Of course!” His immediate reply preceded a moment of concern. “Uh, but, shouldn't we try and free the others first?”

“You can do that by putting a stop to this Balance Break as soon as possible,” the elder Gremory asserted. “In the meantime, myself and the others here will keep the enemy from breaching the inner barrier. Sooner or later, the kind folks outside will make a more concerted effort to taking our lives.”

Another explosion rumbled the conference room, making the overhead chandelier chime and clatter.

“I'm loathe to ask this of you, Issei, since you'll have to go alone and on foot. That said, perhaps this will be a good chance to make use of your special lessons. Don't you agree?”

The reassuring smile Sirzechs gave him helped Issei to reign in the pressure of the assignment. A smile of his own bloomed in response.

In the weeks following the Phenex Rating Game, Issei had met with Sirzechs' Bishop, MacGregor Mathers, to address the issue of Issei's memory condition. The man may have been quirky, even for Issei, but he did his work well. On Ddraig's recommendation, he had reinforced the weak points of Issei's mind, which would help to halt a slide before it could spiral into full relapse.

There were other matters that Mathers had provided his aid in that time, however, and maybe…

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“Not sure what you two are on about but, if you're taking the long way, you'll need air cover.” Azazel turned to his bodyguard, who remained nonplussed against the wall. “Vali, get outside and provide a distraction for our uninvited guests. Make sure that the kid can get to the old schoolhouse, while you're at it.”

“It'd be faster just to blow the whole thing up and the dhampir along with it, right?”

The silverette's careless suggestion earned a glare from Issei and a sigh from Azazel.

“Knock it off, brat; don't go digging up the hatchet we're trying to bury. Having him alive will be a greater benefit to us in the long run. Now, go outside and kick some ass, blow off a little steam.”

The White Dragon Emperor huffed. “Fine. I'll keep the skies clear, but Red's on his own for any fights on the ground.”

From his upper back, a pair of familiar white wings unfurled, the luminescent blue feathers of Divine Dividing manifesting at full length.

“Watch and learn, newbie.”

With a sharp crack, Vali shot into the night through the room's rightmost window, wings flaring wide as he tore into the sky. Energy flared in blue-white arcs, and silver scales surged outward, wrapping him in draconic armor that gleamed against the darkness.

“Balance Break!”

“Divine Dividing – Scale Mail!” the voice of Albion bellowed.

Vali came to a stop in the center of the airborne mob, drawing all attention and enemy fire to himself. He didn't move, though. In fact, he seemed strangely content with getting shot at. He kept his arms confidently crossed as every beam launched at him harmlessly struck an invisible barrier around him.

When the shooting paused for a brief moment, only then did he proceed to act. Arcs of blue-white lightning danced across his form again, then violently lanced out with a clap of thunder, overwhelming the surrounding enemies. The magicians hadn't been reduced to burning ashes, however. They appeared merely to disperse into flecks of golden light. Some kind of clones, or emergency substitutes?

More enemies appeared from the magic circles overhead, all alive and well, resuming their attacks on Vali. The White Dragon Emperor continued tearing through the magic doppelgangers, moving with precision that somehow seemed loose, or even casual.

Despite everything around him, he was still bored.

Issei felt a pit form in his stomach, for more than one reason.

Azazel chuckled. “Heheh! Yeah, that won't keep him for long, at least until they bring something bigger to the party. Makes you wonder where he got the attitude from, huh?”

'Yeah, that one's a real puzzle,' Issei thought with snark.

“By the way, kid, catch.”

Taking his hand out from his coat pocket, the Cadre tossed a pair of small items to Issei. The objects resembled bracelets with a magenta-colored gem as a centerpiece.

“What's this?” he asked.

“Sacred Gear limiters. I keep a few of those on hand for occasions just like this. Slip that onto the dhampir kid, and it'll keep him from losing control of his Gear again until it comes off.”

He looked back to the air, jaw tight as fresh waves continued to pour in amidst Vali’s assault. The limiters thrummed in his hand, power wrapped in a promise too smooth to swallow clean. Azazel called it safe, but Issei had been down the road of blind trust before, and wasn't keen to repeat.

“Issei!” Sirzechs' called for him again. This time, he sounded more like to a military commander. “In place of your King, I'm granting you emergency permission as Satan Lucifer to Promote. Go!”

The Pawn of Gremory saluted. This wasn't the time to hesitate.

“Yes, sir! Ddraig!”

“On it! Scale Mail, partial deployment!”

Flashes of green light crawled over his limbs, snapping armor into place with sharp hisses and a low, pulsing hum.

The lights dimmed to reveal the familiar gauntlet encasing his left arm, while a reinforced cestus wrapped tight over his right forearm, knuckle to elbow. Draconic scale plates locked across his chest, arching fully over his torso and back with jagged precision, and greaves armored his shins and knees in segmented crimson steel.

Similarly to the gauntlet, embedded across the knees, cestus, and chest were gleaming green gems, pulsing faintly like the heartbeat of the dragon within.

After Kokabiel's attack, Ddraig had suggested invoking the Boosted Gear's Balance Breaker form in sections, rather than attempt to force the entire form at once. If the full Scale Mail had too heavy of a cost for Issei currently –which it did– then the next best thing was to simply try it in bits and pieces.

When Issei had bounced the idea to Mathers, he approved, believing that it could be a good basis to adapting the Pawn to the dragon's power. The man had jokingly likened the overall concept to blending different types of Roman gladiator armor, not that Issei objected. He found the comparison fitting, seeing that he was instinctively more partial to close combat than the use of magic.

To Issei's joy, it worked. After much trial and error, he found that he was able to maintain an incomplete Scale Mail of any combination for upwards of thirty minutes. Forty-five, if he were to push himself.

“How 'bout that?” Azazel muttered with intrigue, cupping his chin in one hand.

“Promotion, Knight!”

“Boost!”

His speed now set to match that of Kiba –and further enhanced by the Boosted Gear– the Pawn of Gremory took off like a missile out the doors and through the school hallway. He didn't bother stopping to open the double doors leading outside; he simply plowed right through them, tearing one off its hinges and sliding to a stop on the sidewalk. In doing so, he came face-to-face with a small group of enemies that had been approaching the entryway.

The words of Okita Sōji –passed down to him by Kiba– ran through his mind at that moment.

-----

“ There is no good or evil on the battlefield, only death. Strike quickly and without mercy, so that you may remain among the living. ”

-----

“What the–”

Issei first grabbed the dislodged door, swinging it like a club at the nearest hostile, folding his body over as it hit him in the back and sent him flying into a nearby tree. Another man tried to bring his scepter to bear, yet Issei proved to be quicker on the draw. Throwing a brutal uppercut that took the man off his feet, the Pawn then grabbed him by the ankles and tossed him into one of his allies. Both men impacted the side of the school building and hit the dirt in a twisted heap of limbs, the wall none the worse for wear.

Magic circles sprang up around the Pawn, firing beams of light and fire, but they all missed their mark. He sped between the remaining three opponents, landing a flurry of blows that disabled or otherwise knocked them out cold in seconds.

The last magician, having struck the ground headfirst from a brutal right hook, vanished in a flurry of light particles before his eyes. He blinked, and only then did he realize that the others had disappeared as well, same as before with Vali.

Issei’s breath hitched in excitement, before an enormous shockwave rolled over him, interrupting his reverie. The sky was set alight, and his blood suddenly ran cold.

That blast came from the assembly hall!

“Ignore it, hatchling! Keep going!”

Ddraig's call stopped him from speeding back inside. It felt like a punch to the gut, leaving Rias and the others behind, but they were in good hands. The Satans, as well as the other, would keep everyone safe.

He knew that… but still…

Shoving down the rest of his apprehension, he took off back in the direction of the ORC base. He had juniors to rescue!

' Gasper, Koneko, hang in there! '

---

To the southeast of Kuoh, a squadron of magicians maintained a tight formation as they slowly maneuvered through a wooded area toward their target. Approaching a small clearing, cowl-covered eyes darted back and forth on the lookout for unseen dangers.

Some managed to keep their anxiety to themselves better, while others…

“How much further?”

“We'll get there when we get there, dumbass!”

“Don't you fucking touch me!”

“I'm about to kill you both myself if you don't keep quiet!” The group leader snapped, silencing them.

Having already lost three of their own to some brutal traps along the way, the group was on a razor's edge. The first two died from flying knives to the skull, but the third unlucky bastard was hung by steel wire until it dug into his throat and choked him to death.

The worst part for them was that nobody among the seven survivors had noticed anything was amiss until their cohorts were already dead.

They hadn't encountered anything since then, but the eerie quiet in those woods made the night seem colder.

“Now, pull your heads out of your asses and focus! We still have a job to do, and dammit, we're going to see it through.”

“Don't bet on it.”

A new voice coming from behind caused them all to snap around. There, a man in blue and white robes, casually holding a long staff in his right hand, stared bemusedly at the group.

The Heroic Spirit could barely believe it; the idiots had no idea he was there, even after materializing from spirit form. If it were his fellow Servant handling this, she would've just killed them all on the spot, solely out of principle.

With most of the fighting happening on opposite sides of the town, there would be a window for smaller groups like this to attack less protected targets in Devil-controlled territory. Or so it was first believed.

“Who the hell are you?!” Another nameless pleb demanded.

Caster's unbothered shrug served to agitate them more. “My name's not terribly important. I'm just a guy that's been cooped up for too long and is looking for a little excitement. Cabin fever's a real bitch, trust me.”

The 'leader' stepped toward him, while his colleagues prepared for combat.

“You're not with the Heroes, are you?”

“That little troupe of pretenders? Nah, I've got my own gig, and orders.”

'Berkano, Thurisaz, Eihwaz.'

He tapped his staff against the ground and, before his and the astonished magicians' very eyes, it began to change shape. The wooden implement blatantly defied natural laws of physics, shifting and rearranging itself into a far more menacing armament.

The once bulky head straightened and thinned out, becoming a long double-edged blade with deep grooves and intricate semicircles carved into its length. Serrated teeth emerged at the connection to the shaft just before the metal bands, vine-like protrusions practically grew along the entirety of the shaft, and a sharpened point sprouted at the heel.

Caster gave an experimental twirl to the new weapon, testing the balance.

Even though this was just a replica –it being slightly shorter and far lighter than its template– the familiar contours were enough to invoke a wistful smile.

“This'll be my first real fight in a long time,” he warned. “Don't disappoint me.”

“Hah! You arrogant fool!” The leader made to engage, leveling his scepter toward the Heroic Spirit.

He never got the chance to attack; Caster was in his face before the magic circle had even fully activated. In a fluid upward swing, the hand holding the scepter was removed with hardly any resistance.

Before the man could scream, the lance swung back around and sliced through his neck, swiftly and soundlessly beheading him. The headless corpse remained upright, twitching as blood sprayed from the open arteries in arcing gushes.

“Oh, fuck!” someone yelled in panic.

Biting down his shock, the nearest man conjured a magic circle and launched a wave of fire at Caster, who made no other move to respond than to lift his drawing hand.

'Algiz, Isa, Laguz.'

The flames collided with the conjured shield, enveloping him in a cloud of hot steam and white smoke from the rapid dousing.

“Did that ge–”

The one who spoke up paid dearly for it when the wooden spear flew out of the smoke cloud, lodging its blade through his eye and into his brain. Caster then burst forward, tearing his weapon free from the falling body and slashing another man's legs before stabbing him in the throat.

Two more magicians got a bit of distance, taking aim and firing whatever spells they could in his direction. Everything they threw, however, sailed harmlessly by while he tilted and twisted his body around them. In their eyes, he must have appeared to be dancing.

In the midst of his 'performance,' the Heroic Spirit invoked the Thorn Spear spell in reverse, changing his weapon back into a staff instantly. He then slammed the bottom into the ground, and a runic circle glowed beneath his feet. The same circle appeared beneath the two men, before small trees rapidly sprang up and twisted around the pair, piercing them on all sides with barbed thorns like iron maidens.

Their howls of pain were cut short by Caster launching a line of fire runes at the trapped men. The blasts killed them instantly, leaving the bodies to burn upright within their cages of kindling wood.

The intense flames illuminated the clearing and shadowed Caster's face, allowing his eyes to almost glow in anticipation.

One enemy after another had fallen as brutally as the next, blood painting the ground and further screams going unspoken, until only two magicians were left.

“Screw this!” one of them yelled, turning to flee. The other man followed suit, but as the deserting duo approached the nearby trees, the one in front came to a sudden and painful stop, the other smashing right into him. Both fell back to the dirt in a pile, as if they had just run into a brick wall.

“What the hell?!”

Looking up, the two magicians witnessed a large glowing rune, surrounded by a circle of smaller runes, floating in the air before them. In fact, there were many more of them, surrounding the small clearing.

They were trapped from the very start.

“No! NO!” In desperation, the first turncoat scrambled to his feet and readied a fire spell to launch at the enemy. “Die, you fuc–”

Caster was already right behind him when he turned around, slashing him across the neck with the Thorn Spear. Emblematic of his own encroaching demise, the spell died in the man's hands while he clutched at the gaping tear in his throat. The hapless fool gurgled on his own blood and crumpled, leaving Caster to step over the body to approach his final target.

Red eyes coldly stared down at the last one alive, who trembled and fell on his backside.

“W-wait! Please! I didn't want any part of this, I swear! I was onl–”

A spearhead through the heart shut him up before he could get out another word. A quick death was the only mercy he would receive, even if the coward didn't deserve it.

“Tch,” Caster clicked his tongue.

He figured he wouldn't get much out of it, but this was just disappointing. Massacres were a waste of time, generally. Boring, even. Anybody could kill a bunch of weaklings, in the same way that one could kill small animals in the name of sustenance. It was only when one was set against impossible odds that a one-sided slaughter could be considered bearable.

So what did a guy have to do to get a nice, fulfilling fight in this day and age?

If the other 'strike teams' were like this group, they wouldn't be worth any more of his time than what he'd spent here, which was a very sad thought. Still, a job was a job, no matter how boring or bloody. The sooner it was done, the better.

'Sowilo, Ansuz, Uruz, Ansuz.'

Pillars of fire erupted beneath the slain magicians, including the ones killed by Assassin's traps, setting them all ablaze. While the makeshift pyres burned the bodies to ash, he readied a simple wind spell for the moment the flames died out.

'Tiwaz, Hagalaz.'

The remains of the dead then took to the air in an updraft, scattering peacefully into the night. He casually twirled the spear again, shifting it back to its staff form and tucking it under his arm.

'How ya holding up, kid?' he checked over the mental link.

'I take it you're done? Yeah, I'm fine for now, but sensors around the north just picked another couple of groups. Can you wrap them all up in about four minutes?'

'Four minutes?' The druid audibly scoffed. 'Kid, that's insulting; I won't even need two.'

'Okay, then how about a challenge? Eliminate the rest of these teams in less than one minute. You win, and we'll go out fishing on Sunday morning, you pick the spot.'

Caster's lips curved up slightly; the kid really was learning.

'Deal.'

---

A metal-covered fist landed squarely in the target's face, sending them skidding across the dirt, unconscious.

This made the third group of magicians that Issei was forced to fight through to reach his objective, with each individual bearing the same uniforms as one another. Just like with the others, they vanished the moment they were rendered unable to resist. He had caught the first group by surprise, but with the others now aware of his presence, it dragged out the struggle more than he wanted.

Ddraig had assessed them all to be somewhere between low- and mid-tier magicians, which meant that they were little more than cannon fodder; just a means to slow down anyone trying to save Gasper.

' Speaking of which… '

With the coast finally clear, he wound up a kick and busted open the double doors that led into the ORC's primary corridor. Rias could discipline him about damages later.

“Gasper! Koneko!”

He listened for something, any kind of response, until he heard a soft whimper coming from the hallways leading to the west stairwell.

His legs were already moving, driven by the sound and the chill that came with it.

There, bound to the floor by a web of dark violet sigils beneath him, Gasper knelt rigid while his head hung limply. The circle pulsed slowly, thin tendrils of energy crawling like veins over his pale skin. Across the small room, a woman in a black kimono cradled an unconscious Koneko in her arms. Her golden eyes were sharp, yet she lazily regarded the new arrival.

“Gasper!”

Gasper’s head twitched, eyes dragging toward Issei with a flicker of pained recognition. The dhampir's eyes resembled nothing of what he remembered; glowing gold diamonds for pupils, outlined by black lines that parted blood-red irises in six directions.

It looked so wrong on him.

“I… Ise…”

“Nya, lookie here~” the woman chortled, “It's the Pervy Dragon Emperor!”

“Wha–”

She grinned upon noticing where his eyes had unintentionally wandered.

“Oh? Like whatcha see?~ I've heard all kinds of rumors about you from before your reincarnation, y'know. Something about being a breast maniac? So tell me, big boy; have I provoked you?~”

She winked and tilted her body forward, more than enough to give him an unobstructed view of her cleavage. Unbelievably tempting as it was to gaze down that valley of his most deep-seated desire, he couldn't ignore the small form of his junior held against the woman's chest.

“Let her go!”

“Oh, Shirone? Hmmm, let me think about it.” Her eyes went to the ceiling in false contemplation. “Nope, don't wanna! My baby sister and I have a lot to catch up on.”

In another situation, he would have been taken aback by the knowledge that Koneko even had a sister. He could see the family resemblance, though; they both had the same facial shape.

He shoved that thought down for later.

“I said let her go!” He disappeared from immediate view, making to flank the woman and grab Koneko. To his shock, the fist he threw simply phased right through the intruder's head. “What?”

The woman looked down at him from the corner of her eye with a triumphant smirk that exposed a set of pearly white fangs.

“Yeah, sorry about that, but not really. This is just a projection. Like I said, Shirone and I need some time alone to have a nice, long chat, as sisters always do. Don't worry, I'll bring her back eventually, and not a hair out of place. But, the real question will be what she does once she returns. Only time will tell. Toodles, Pervy Dragon~”

Both Koneko and her captor seemed to shimmer, as if they were merely an image reflected from a puddle of water. Within a second, they were gone, that smirk being the last thing to fade as a final taunt.

Issei seethed, and his fists slammed down, smashing a heavy indent into the floor.

He was too late.

“DAMMIT!”

A low whimper from Gasper threaded through the air, pulling Issei sharply back into the present.

“Gasper,” Issei scrambled back to his feet and approached the trapped Bishop. “Gasper, talk to me: How did she get in here?! And how do we stop this?!”

“She…” The boy could barely talk between his sobs. “She slipped past all the barriers and paralyzed us, then she forced my Gear to… to freeze everyone. I can't see it, but I felt it happen! I've been trying, but I can't stop!”

“Then I'll just have to break-”

“You can't.”

Issei paused. “What? Why?”

“This spell is a product of senjutsu, a lot trickier stuff than normal magic,” Ddraig explained. “It's been tied to the Bishop's own life force, using it as a battery to keep the effects perpetually active. You try to destroy it, and you'll end up harming your friend, possibly lethally.”

“Are you serious?!” he growled, teeth gritting and voice laden with venom. A familiar sting twisted in his chest: another plan shot to hell, another hand dealt just to be slapped away.

Why did it seem like every step forward he took just got him yanked back twice as hard?!

Gasper sniffled again.

“Ise… You have to kill me.”

He blinked. Did he hear that right?

“Please, Ise… from the very start, my Gear has been nothing but a curse! I'm a curse! All I've ever done is be a burden. To you, to Buchō, everybody!” Fresh tears fell from the dhampir's prismatic eyes. “I try and I try, but I just can't change; I just end up hurting people! And now, I can't even stop myself! I'M SO SICK OF IT!!”

The raw, biting self-hatred in Gasper's scream cut deep, piercing both Issei's ears and his heart.

“Please…” he begged. “Just let me die… Don't let me hurt anyone anymore…”

…

…

Gasper’s head sank again, and for a long, brittle moment, there was only silence between them.

…

“Don't give me that bullshit!”

Looking up, Gasper recoiled at the look of outrage from Issei. Hot tears of his own threatened to fall from the Pawn's eyes, but he was too angry to care.

Enough was enough!

“If you think you're a burden, or a curse, then I'm an absolute waste of space, Gasper! That is a proven fact! Newborn Devils have greater demonic power than I did starting out! You literally have more power in one finger than I had in my whole body! Every time I looked in the mirror in my first month as a Devil, I was embarrassed by what I saw; it was fucking humiliating to just be me, the butt of every bad joke possible! But I didn't quit, I didn't give up! That's what a man does when the world beats him down; he stands right back up!”

To make his point, Issei got to his feet, stomping in finality while glaring down at Gasper.

Had he not been so furious at both himself and the situation, his tirade might not have come off as abrasive as it did. Furthermore, he failed to notice that the orbs on his armor were pulsing in bright green light…

“How do you think Buchō's gonna feel if I have to tell her that we lost you, on top of Koneko?! It will destroy her, you know that! If she hasn't cast you aside or sent you away for being difficult long before this, what the hell makes you think she'd start now?! And we didn't spend all of last week helping you back into the world just for you to die!”

“But… I can't…”

“You're out of your mind if you think there's no way to solve this! There has to be a way!”

Finally, the Boosted Gear flashed bright enough to catch his attention. He looked down at the gauntlet in annoyance, before his expression slowly softened in thought.

Glancing between the Gear and the spell holding Gasper, he got an idea.

“As luck would have it… we've got one right here.” Taking the thumb of his gauntlet, he dragged a line down his right palm, flinching slightly as the claw drew blood. “Maybe I can't get you out directly, but you can still get yourself out.”

He held his bleeding hand to the boy, who tried to pull away, despite the situation.

“Ise?!”

“Listen, I wouldn't trust Azazel as far as I could throw the guy. But, if he's right, and my blood as the Red Dragon Emperor can somehow help with controlling Balor View, then this might be the best chance we've got to break you out. We need your help in the worst way, Gasper!

“It's your Gear; you command it, nobody else! If not for yourself, or Koneko, or any one of your friends, then do it for Buchō! Be a man!”

Gasper’s jaw clenched, and his eyes squeezed shut in refusal. He warred with himself, his very instincts, until he chanced a peek and caught sight of Issei's unwavering gaze. The stand-off lasted for several seconds, until he leaned forward with a broken whimper.

Shakily sticking out his tongue, he caught a drop of blood as it ran from the open wound, then withdrew it into his mouth. With a disgusted grimace, he swallowed.

Instantly, his eyes widened, and the bizarre patterns vanished, replaced by swirls of red and white.

---

Rias came to reality in a state of confusion.

One moment, the faction leaders were all seated, ready to discuss the terms. In the next, everyone was on their feet and looking at a large hole in the ceiling. Hell, an entire section of the wall and ceiling had been blasted to pieces, yet Michael, Sirzechs and Serafall merely watched as magic circles and explosions lit up the sky like fireworks. At least, those that were still present.

“What's going on?” Kiba asked beside her.

“I don't know. It's like we… Oh no, Gasper!” Something must have happened to trigger his Gear, only on a much larger scale than she had even known he was able to do. “Everyone, we need to–”

She turned to her peerage, only to notice that a certain someone wasn't among them.

“Where's Ise?”

“Calm down, Rias,” Sirzechs answered. “I sent him ahead to break through the enemy line and recover Gasper. Looks to me like he pulled it off.”

For an instant, Rias' fury at the thought of her servant being turned into a terrorist weapon overwhelmed her thoughts. Her Power of Destruction almost sparked to life in her hands. But the knowledge that Issei had come to the rescue replaced that anger with pride. She welcomed the fond smile that spread as a result.

“Of course he did.”

“Oh my~” Akeno tittered.

“You can smother him in affection all you want,” Sirzechs promised, “after we've concluded our business here. Grayfia's almost finished analyzing this gateway the enemy's using. She just needs a little more time.”

Grayfia said nothing, focused as she was on a spinning orb of magic glyphs between her hands.

“Shall I assist them, Lord Michael?” The Arch-Seraph's bodyguard asked, flicking the hilt of a light sword into her hand from the sleeve of her habit.

“In a moment, Griselda. Let's wait for Lady Grayfia's report. To say nothing of Azazel and his associate, it looks as if the situation above is largely well in hand for now.”

Rias’ gaze snapped upward, catching sharp flashes through the destroyed ceiling as chains of explosions ripped through the airspace. The White Dragon Emperor gave no ground to the waves of enemies coming in, eliminating them as quickly as they appeared.

Azazel, meanwhile, was engaged in a more singular battle, wielding a two-pronged light spear as his twelve wings blurred with speed to evade his attacker. Across from him was a sneering bespectacled woman, clad in a low cut dress that barely seemed to cover her figure, launching spell after spell at the Governor-General. The scepter in her hands glowed a malevolent red, manifesting magic circles that bore a sigil Rias remembered from her history lessons.

“Is that–”

“Yes, So-tan,” Serafall answered her sister, a deep sadness in her tone, “It's Katerea Leviathan, the last surviving descendant of the original Leviathan.”

Rias’s eyes widened.

The Old Satans? Aligning with terrorists? This was no longer a rebellion by a defeated enemy in war, but a calculated strike against the very world her family helped rebuild.

However dated, the Old Satan Faction still carried knowledge that could be devastating in the wrong hands; secrets, wards, bloodlines and vulnerabilities buried deep in the Underworld's foundation. If left unchecked, their influence wouldn’t stop at Kuoh. It would spread like cracks through glass, threatening to fracture the Underworld itself.

In time, the human world would suffer the same fate.

The door swung open hard, scattering Rias’ thoughts and snapping her focus that way. An armored Issei stepped in, half carrying a pale and shaking Gasper against his side. The boy was in terrible shape, but breathing; alive, despite everything.

“Ise! Gasper!” She elatedly ran to them, but slowed down when she realized that someone wasn't with the pair.

“Where's Koneko?”

She looked between the two, fear slowly rising. The moist streams that stained Gasper's face ran anew while Ise's jaw and hands clenched.

Her eyes widened, and a panic unlike any she had ever felt before surged through her.

Where was Koneko?! What had happened?!

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 26: Shifting Shadows

The silence in the room was as deafening as it was brittle. It was the sort that lingered after something sacred had been broken, while the noise still rang like tinnitus in one's mind, even drowning out the sounds of battle raging just outside.

Koneko had been kidnapped, and by one of the Underworld's most notorious criminals.

It didn’t feel real that something like this could happen in their territory, but the cold sweat she felt at her collarbone told her otherwise.

Rias had fallen to her knees in shock, fear and panic scrawled across her face as clear as paint slashed across a canvas. Akeno was barely holding it together, both for herself and the dhampir clinging to her uniform like a lifeline. Kiba looked to be the most contained, but his eyes expressed equal despair.

And Issei, still clad in segments of crimson armor, seethed in quiet rage with tightly clenched fists. The boy who so often was seen as a fool during his human days, stood like a wire ready to snap under tension.

She had seen loss before. She had experienced grief with Ruruko. She understood the crushing helplessness that came with seeing a friend suffering. Her Pawn's listless face flitted to the edge of her thoughts, unbidden but inescapable. And yet, these feelings were more finite than what she was witnessing.

This was a cold and dynamic dread, a restless fear that whispered of worse still to come.

Sona glanced beside her to meet Tsubaki’s eyes. The uncertainty in her Queen’s gaze mirrored her own, and the fingers of her left hand fiddled with the hem of her uniform's skirt.

“Ria-tan…” Serafall's whisper didn't completely break the silence.

Sona’s jaw tightened.

“I have it.”

All eyes turned to Grayfia, the magic diagram in her hands continuing to twist and twirl.

“The gate's anchor point is in a small shrine to the south of Kuoh.” The slight edge in her voice was tight, though she remained professional.

“Any defenses?” Sirzechs inquired.

“Simple barriers meant to mask their presence. They were likely trying to be inconspicuous about it, but the signature is there.”

Sirzechs knelt beside his distraught sister, one hand settling on her shoulder until she looked to him, her blue-green eyes wide and watery.

“We’ll get her back, Rias,” he soothed, like any older brother would. “I swear to you, we'll get her back. She is not lost.”

Tears freely fell down her face at this.

With a glance toward Grayfia’s flickering diagram, his expression hardened. Returning to his feet and standing up straight, the Satan Lucifer resumed his position.

“Sona, you and your peerage are to advance on this anchor point and destroy it. Cut off the supply of enemy reinforcements before they send something bigger our way.” He then turned to his sister, his tone softening marginally but not forfeiting authority. “Rias, your team needs to stay and beat the enemy back. Once the gate comes down, we'll need to deal with stragglers quickly.”

“Run run, So-tan!” Serafall urged, “Azzy-kun and Vali-kun are doing their best right now, but even they're only two people. Some bad guys could still get through.” Her gaze went back to the air, observing the two battles.

Michael turned to his bodyguard. “In that case, Griselda, stay here and help secure the site.”

“Yes, Lord Michael.”

Griselda's left hand reached up, undoing a couple clasps on her tunic's collar and shrugging off the whole thing onto the floor. Underneath the conservative garment lay a skin-tight black suit similar to those worn by the other exorcists during their search for Excalibur. She then pulled the veil and coif from her head, which allowed flaxen blond hair to spill out and down to her shoulders.

The light sword in her right hand ignited, a deep cerulean blue extending to full length, and giving Sona a bit of a chill.

Rias finally rose from the floor, her hands trembling as she wiped at her eyes and Akeno reached to stabilize her. The heiress' voice cracked at first but found strength by the second word.

“We’ll stop them… Not one of these bastards will get past us.”

Her grief wasn't gone, but now it served to fuel righteous anger. Pain and purpose would carry those flames until they reduced whoever got in her way to ash.

Sona exhaled slowly, grounding herself with a sharp breath.

'Later,' she reminder herself. There would be time to speak later.

“Tsubaki, call the others,” she ordered firmly. “We'll regroup at the academy gate and move as one.”

Her Queen nodded, summoning a communication sigil.

Whatever this night was meant to be, it had already transformed into something far more terrible. And it wasn’t over yet.

---

Blades flashed in the dark, carving through smoke and shadow as twisted beasts surged from the earth.

The clashing of steel and the snap of lightning filled the air, making the battlefield stink of ozone, sulfur, and scorched rock. Every movement stirred a haze of dust and acrid steam that clung to the skin, and for every monster slain, more took their place.

“Left!”

His teammate's shout alerted Tobio to another larger beast charging at them. It reared up to strike with a massive front paw, only to disintegrate after getting beheaded by a black blur that leapt out of Tobio's shadow. Blade clutched in his jaws, Jin followed through his surprise attack by charging into the horde by himself, bisecting another three in one slash.

Kōki thrust his lightning-coated tactical spear into another pair of shadow creatures, destroying them instantly. As they disappeared, however, another two of the same size immediately sprang up from the ground on his left flank, forcing him to swipe at them defensively. Byakusa took that opportunity to pounce on one and rip it in two.

“Damn it all!” Kōki roared, “This is reminding me too much of that shitshow in Istanbul! Did nobody teach this little pipsqueak about spawn limits or population caps?!”

In the air above the two and their partners, Natsume was having problems of her own. Griffin ducked and weaved to escape the swarms of airborne shadow beasts that doggedly chased them like a horde of chattering locusts. The avatar turned back now and then to throw blades of wind at the pursuing enemies, cutting them to shreds, yet more just replaced the defeated.

“Somehow–” Natsume began to comment, only to turn and fire her specially-built light gun into another shadow construct, then eject the magazine for a reload, “I don't think he plays games by the rules.”

Another four beasts rushed Natsume from her right, but she whipped around and fired a burst of rounds that hit them all square in the head.

“I can't tell if this is part of a Balance Breaker, or he's just that adept with his Gear!”

“Either way, it's bullshit!”

Tobio agreed, though he didn't voice his opinion. His hands were full trying to think whilst fighting off a shadowy chimera. The lion head and snake tail lunged for him in succession, missing with the former and losing the latter in the process. Undeterred, the beast made to continue, until a blast of lightning from Byakusa blindsided it, allowing Tobio a window to quickly remove the monster's two remaining heads.

Something wasn't right about this situation. The boy had yet to move since Tobio and Natsume arrived; his army of shadow constructs acted as quite the barrier between himself and the Grigori agents, but made no move to invade the town, despite their numbers. Worse still, with every passing moment, the shadow beasts seemed to be adapting to better match the team and their abilities.

Azazel often referred to Annihilation Maker as a 'Busted' Gear for a reason, along with the other top-tier Longinus. To form an army out of nothing but one's imagination and magic capacity was an easy recipe for disaster in the wrong hands. And yet, here it was.

The ground around them was littered with carcasses of shadow beasts, their forms slowly oozing like hot tar until they dissolved. But there were always more.

They couldn't afford a battle of attrition; they had to break through.

“Jin!”

A dark ripple surged around Tobio’s feet as his Gear blurred back into his shadow. Then, that same shadow rose up and engulfed him.

The air distorted as Tobio’s silhouette stretched unnaturally upward, thickening and reshaping. Wisps of darkness surged around his frame and pulled inward like segments of armor. Claws formed around his fingers, and a wolfish mask of darkness snapped into place over his face, its red eyes gleaming.

Though not his full Balance Breaker, this more humanoid form allowed for Tobio to release a more devastating solution to persistent problems.

He brought his hands forward, gripping the hilt of the sealed sword emerging from his left wrist.

Ame-no-Ohabari did not scream upon being drawn, but whispered. A low, hungry exhale of cursed flame coiled up the edge of the ebony blade, wreathing it in sickly red and black fire. The temperature both dropped and rose paradoxically as the divine curse flooded the battlefield like a tangible weight.

The moment the blade's glow reached its peak, the army of shadows recoiled.

Tobio didn’t hesitate. With one forward surge, he carved a horizontal arc that vaporized a wall of beasts in a flash of unholy heat. Their bodies didn’t fall; rather, they were undone, reduced to formless ash and annihilated from existence.

The horde buckled, the way forward opened like a parting sea. And for the first time in the battle, the enemy conjurer was struck with fear.

The boy staggered back as his connection to the slain constructs snapped. His hands trembled. Blood began to run freely from his nose, and his breath hitched with a ragged gasp. Dark fluid began to pool beneath his eyes, indicative of internal hemorrhaging. The blood vessels in his head were bursting under the strain.

More than that, though, was the black pattern slowly creeping up his neck and left cheek like… snakes…

“Son of a …”

Of course the enemy army seemed infinite; it was being fueled by the Dragon of Infinity! The kid was just directing them whilst his Gear acted like a channel for that monster's power, and it was tearing him apart from the inside!

More shadow beasts arose to their creator's will, shrieking and groaning as they clamored out from their dark portals. Unlike the armada of simply structured shadows they faced earlier, what stood before Team Slash/Dog now could only be described as nightmarish masses of bodies.

Humanoid limbs jutted from almost every angle possible on these things –Tobio couldn't even count them all– and some of them bore weapons. Shields, swords, spears, hammers and even a crossbow was clutched among the numerous hands of the creatures. Even more disfigured limbs supported their misshapen bodies like spider legs, resembling grotesque fusions of arms and legs. Every movement of those things made a small part of him cringe.

At the center of the amalgamated lumps of 'flesh,' deformed heads peeked out around the tangles of limbs, staring blankly forward. Each one bore dead yellow eyes and jaws that hung without any form of control. (1)

Tobio activated the comm spell, pinging his last teammate.

“Lavinia, get over here! It's worse than we thought, we'll need help with crowd control!”

“I'd love to, Tobi. Really would, but– gugh!”

Her sudden shout was followed by a sharp burst of static. Magical feedback screamed through the comm spell like smashing rocks, nearly throwing him off balance.

“What happened? Come in!”

“Sorry, I'll call you back!”

“Lavi, wait!”

The connection was already cut. Whatever she was dealing with must have needed her full attention.

One of the monstrous shadows screamed, and the other dozen or so followed in a haunting cry that could rally the dead.

Beneath the lupine mask, Tobio grit his teeth and raised his sword.

Lavinia was indisposed. That left only them; outnumbered, but unyielding.

---

"Quando scoprirò chi ha fatto questo..." a frustrated Lavinia grumbled to herself, promising a level of retribution that a certain someone wouldn't soon forget. It took a look to get her this worked up, but it happened very quickly tonight.

In the midst of her observing the battle on campus, she had noticed some sort of commotion to the north and decided to investigate. She tried cutting through town to reach the area quicker, only to be waylaid by a series of traps and magic countermeasures that stopped her at almost every turn.

She'd already been forced to change her path several times due to the mounting interference. Now, it had crossed the boundary from peculiar into absurd.

Every now and then, earthen walls would shoot straight up from the dirt, covered in vines that grew at a monstrous pace and reached out to grab her. Other times, these walls pulsed a blinding light or fired a simple curse meant to disrupt her sense of direction.

With every few steps, a new enchantment would go off beneath the ground or hum from the walls of the labyrinth she found herself in, forcing her to adjust her trajectory again and again. More than once, she resorted to brute-force slapping herself just to snap out of a triggered illusion.

Escape from the air wasn't an option, either. The moment the traps began, a barrier sprang up and turned the air around her unnaturally dense. Trying to fly or levitate out was next to impossible when the air felt heavier than water.

It was like the world itself was trying to drive her mad in a giant game of keep-away, and winning.

Stillness returned, if only for a short time, and she welcomed it like an old friend. Here, in the quiet between threats, she let the witch in her surface. Calm, calculating and cold, pushing the irritation down where it couldn’t reach her hands. Every flare of emotion dulled beneath the weight of focus. She couldn't afford to continue reacting; she had to study.

At one intersection, she stopped when the corner of her eye caught a shimmering symbol etched into a cobblestone, primed and waiting for a victim. Her gaze then shifted to an array nestled in the wall beside it. Spirals and slashes were chiseled in deliberate angles, still pulsing with latent energy.

One look was enough to realize what she was dealing with.

Runes–and not just academic kind she'd studied in Grauzaberer's grand library.This was Primordial runecraft, predating even the Elder Futhark, designed to hold fast against force and favor exactness over entropy.She frowned; no one from Nilrem used that craft, given its age and niche nature, but…

She idly wondered if Connor was responsible for this. Having gotten a feel for his magic presence twice now, she thought she had a good idea of what to expect from him. But therein lay the problem; if he did set all this up, why did he not warn them or Tobio in advance to steer clear and keep a situation like this from happening?

Maybe he was being cautious, or he hadn't counted on one of them coming through this area…

Or maybe someone else had put all this in place…

Her breath misted as she slowed, narrowing her magical output to avoid setting off more traps.

She came to a stop and waited, testing a theory. When nothing happened after five seconds, the mechanics became more clear.

Every trigger –every pulse, backlash or snare– activated only after her spells touched the environment. They did nothing when she physically walked past them. She probably could've stepped on one, for that matter, and it wouldn't have gone off had she not been using magic.

These snares were calibrated to react to specific magical signatures. Elemental resonance, magical density, among other factors that a generalized perimeter ward would use to deter intruders.

'A multilayered field,' she surmised, exhaling softly, 'nothing lethal, but enough to impede any outsider who's not keyed in, and remain completely dormant around normal humans. Smart.'

She brought her hands to her sides and murmured under her breath.

“Sub silentio nivis, transit domina.”

Ice crystals gathered along the ground in a controlled, glacial spread. Absolute Demise, channeled through her own body and dialed back to a crawl, just enough to suppress the runes before they could react. The ambient magic dimmed under the frost as her path forward cleared.

Her shoulders tightened, not from strain but vexation. Holding her power this carefully was costing time, and time wasn’t a luxury her sweet juniors could afford.

Eventually, her slow steps brought her to the outer edge of the perimeter. The air grew thinner, no longer a stifling murk, and the frost started to recede as she entered unsealed space. The runes flared back to life behind her, returning to their normal function.

She paused and looked back once. Her gaze was sharp, like someone mentally mapping an opponent's territory.

Whoever wove this was not being reckless. They were meticulous and calculated. And they were not her enemy, at least for today.

She exhaled through her nose, lips quirking wryly.

“Next time,” she muttered, “I’ll come with a key.”

---

Reya normally enjoyed a night flight, especially during the summer, but tonight had too much going to really take in the scenery. Even if she did, the crickets and other nocturnal insects that normally chirped, sang and buzzed the hours away were unnervingly quiet at the moment.

Gliding low over the treeline, she and the rest of Sona's peerage flew as a vanguard to the heiress, heading south to deal with the focal point of the invading enemy's strategy. Teleporting there would be risky, as there was no way to know what kind of counters were in place to stop interlopers. Their formation was kept tight; wings tucked for speed over stealth, and no one spoke unless absolutely necessary.

A part of her hoped that they would be able to do more than stand by like they had against Kokabiel. Perhaps it was childish of her to think this way, but the lack of direct involvement was getting to her. Standing back and watching others bleed never sat well with her, especially not when she had the chance to act.

“Wait!”

Sona's abrupt order brought everyone to a very unceremonious stop. Had they been on foot, it was likely that someone would have run into another.

After reorienting herself in midair, Reya turned to see Sona with a hand held up to face them.

“Please repeat,” she requested, her other hand held against her ear. Someone was speaking via comm spell, and whatever they were saying wasn't making much sense, based on her expression.

“That wasn't us… Yes, I'm sure. We're not even there yet… then… … very well.”

The spell dissipated, but Sona still looked as if she had just been shown the most ridiculous math equation in history.

“Kaichō, what's wrong?” Reya asked.

“My sister just informed me that the gate has already shut down, and there's no signs of it reengaging. She called to congratulate us on our speed, but…”

Reya blinked, and more than a few of the others looked between each other in confusion.

“What? But– H-How?” a befuddled Saji asked. “Was it a decoy? Or did they just… abandon ship?”

“No way, this has to be a trap. Maybe a false surrender, or they've rigged the place to blow as soon as we get close,” Tsubasa suggested.

“That's the most plausible scenario,” Tsubaki agreed. “If they believed they were compromised, the enemy wouldn't think to hold such a vulnerable position.”

“Well, in that case, wouldn't they have a backup location to continue working from? It doesn't make sense that they–”

“Enough,” Sona sternly interrupted Momo, stopping the discussion outright. “All the same, we need to keep moving. Stay alert, and be on the lookout for an ambush.”

“Hai!”

Returning to formation, the advance continued without another word, at least until the shrine came into view.

The old building looked undisturbed at first glance. The overall construction was as untouched as it had been before this event, not even an ornament out of place. Furthermore, no guards were posted outside, and there didn't appear to anything in the way of defensive magic in the area.

Despite this, the group carefully approached, checking for hidden traps or countermeasures. Still, they found nothing as they drew closer. What should have been a reassuring sign only set them more on edge.

“Tsubaki, can you sense anything here?” Sona asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“It's not much, but I've got something,” the Queen reported, her hand lightly extended. “The leyline is starting to repair itself from this spell's pull, so whatever happened here, we just missed it. Only by about a minute or so.”

“Then let's find out. Stack up.”

Tomoe and Tsubaki took point at the entryway, weapons ready, and Sona between them with a wide area spell set to fire. Saji took one side at the wall and Tsubasa stood ready at the other, with Momo and Reya stacked behind the two to defend them from magic traps.

Sona nodded, bidding the Rook and Pawn to fling open the sliding doors.

When they did, the sight that greeted the group defied their expectations.

“What the hell?”

Saji wasn't the only one thinking that.

In the center of the shrine were four corpses, spread evenly as they lay at separate corners of a now dormant magic circle. All four men were wearing the same robes as the ones attacking the school, but beside each body lay that man's respective head, departed from his shoulders.

Against her wishes, Reya's mind immediately began drawing a comparison to the Stray Devil hunt that crippled Ruruko. Her stomach twisted, the smell of old blood flooding back like a phantom scent. Her jaw clenched until her teeth ached, trying to force the memory down.

She could still picture the Bishop's mutilated body when her dreams replayed that horrible night. He had been mauled, torn apart savagely by his feral, twisted experiment after it got away from him.

While nothing about this scene mirrored that incident, the echo was enough.

From the look of the shrine's interior, there was no signs of struggle. No blood touched any of the walls, the pools around the bodies showed no signs of splatter, and the cuts themselves were impossibly clean. Even Tomoe at her fastest would have encountered resistance had she gone ahead of everyone.

These men were executed right where they stood; surgically, efficiently, and instantly. It was almost as if they had been struck before they even registered the threat, and their heads just rolled away when their bodies collapsed to the floor.

“Umm…”

Her gaze flickered across to the others again. She could tell that they were getting the same idea, but no one spoke it aloud. The looks in their eyes said enough.

“Reya, anything?” Sona regarded her Bishop, who shook her head.

Introduced to the supernatural at a young age as she was, she had learned to recognize lingering aura of magic used in an area after a period of time. Her time as a Devil served to hone that skill, though by no means was it infallible. Like now, for instance, where nothing besides the bodies was out of place here.

Between this and the botched Stray hunt, the night-and-day difference in intent spoke of a message, written in blood by what could only be a professional.

Sona pinched the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses and sighed.

“Alright, then avoid the bodies and sweep the area, and have your familiars start looking around as well. Search for anything that could be a clue to this perpetrator… I'll contact my sister and inform her of what we found.”

With their orders given, the servants of House Sitri split off to begin their investigation. Reya brought her hand up to summon her familiar, while her mind drifted back to the school and the battle raging in its airspace.

A light breeze wafted through the trees, and she couldn’t shake the sense that it echoed a warning. Not to them, but to whoever came next.

---

With the teleportation gate dismantled and enemy formations crumbling, the tide of battle at the academy rapidly began to shift. Issei, Kiba and Griselda made short work of the remaining hostiles on the ground while Vali kept his word to clear the air.

But, one final clash still lit up the night sky, and Issei couldn't help wanting to watch.

At the center was Azazel, clad in the gold-and-purple glow of his Down Fall Dragon Another Armor, a Balance Breaker to the Gear he modeled after Divine Dividing’s Scale Mail. Forged through his countless years of Sacred Gear research and tempered by his pact with Fafnir, the armor enhanced his strength and shielded him from the wild, unstable power he now faced. In one hand, he gripped a two-pronged spear of light, a perfect weapon to match the madness before him.

Katerea Leviathan, once a likely figure of regal beauty among Devils, pulsed with unnatural energy, her body contorting with every heartbeat. The shard of Ophis' power embedded in her twisted her aura into a chaotic storm. Coils of violet-black power spiraled like a void, as if trying to swallow the world around them.

Azazel’s voice cut through the distance between the two. “You’ve really gone and lost it, haven't you?”

Through cracked and bleeding lips, Katerea sneered at his scorn. Shadowed veins crawled under her skin like a web of corruption, and the sclera of one eye had fully blackened.

“What I’ve found is something greater than any of you could understand!”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Usually right before someone explodes.”

She screamed and hurled a bolt of unstable magic. Azazel’s armor shimmered, absorbing the blast across his chest and releasing it in a ripple of gravitational force.

Their weapons collided again; her misshapen blade of dark energy against his radiant spear. The clash sparked arcs of conflicting power that lit the sky like miniature suns. Katerea moved with feral unpredictability, striking every angle she could think to find, but continually failed to breach Azazel’s defense or avoid his practiced counters. Meanwhile, each strike from his spear chipped away at her magical shell.

“Ophis loaned you its power, but not the means to control it. You just assumed you'd be able to; look where that got you. There's being eaten alive, and then there's this.”

“I don’t care what it costs me!” she shrieked. “If it takes this body, this soul, then so be it! The true Satans will build our new world, after the old one dies!”

'Funny, coming from her.'

Azazel grunted as their weapons locked, then parried and used the momentum to spin past her and slash across her upper back, cutting off a wing.

She howled and retaliated, but his follow-up strike was already in motion. In a flash, he cleaved through her left arm, the limb spiraling away in a trail of black blood and dissolving shadow.

“You bitch–!”

She surged forward in desperation, her right arm transforming into a mass of tentacles with small hands at their tips. The numerous new limbs grabbed onto his armored forearm and melded themselves into it. Her eyes gained a crazed gleam as her magic flared violently, discharging in intensifying pulses.

“If nothing else, then you'll join me in death!”

Azazel looked at her, just long enough to sigh.

“Hard pass. I'm too busy to die.”

He gave his spear a sudden twist, changing its direction to where it cleanly and quickly severed his own left arm just above the elbow.

The stunned Leviathan's grasp fell with the limb, still clutched in her mutated 'hands.'

Before she could retreat, Azazel shifted and launched his weapon with all the added power his armor could channel, in addition to his own.

The spear tore through her rib cage and blasted out her back in a beam of purifying light. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. Her body began to burn, not from fire, but from rejection. The power she had thought would lend her victory collapsed upon itself, delivering the final blow.

She lurched once, then crumbled into ash.

Azazel hovered alone now, his breathing even and controlled, despite the pain and the blood dripping from his stump of a left arm. He disengaged the artificial Gear with a flicker of light, then sealed his self-inflicted wound shut with a small fire spell, unflinching through the sting.

Nothing but a trail of smoke and dust drifted from where the last of an ancient Devil bloodline had fallen.

Issei didn't understand how Azazel did it, remaining so composed and collected despite the loss of an arm, like its absence meant nothing to him. Hell, he didn't even seem all that happy at winning. The man just watched the remnants of his enemy fade away into the night, completely stone-faced.

He stayed that way for several seconds, then sighed and shook his head.

“Well,” Azazel finally muttered, “I guess that takes care of tha–”

*SQUELCH*

Whatever relief Issei felt upon seeing Azazel begin to descend was suddenly and cruelly crushed.

Vali had appeared behind the Cadre, impaling him through the abdomen with an armor-covered hand up to the wrist. The tips of Vali's fingers peeked out from under Azazel's rib cage, soaked in blood.

The deathly silence that followed was enough for one to hear blood hitting the ground as it dripped from the limb jutting out of the Fallen Angel's abdomen like a spear. Issei couldn't form words for the shock of what he was witnessing, and neither could any of his fellow Devils. Even Michael seemed taken aback by the sheer audacity; the betrayal had come without warning, like a thunderclap out of a clear sky.

'Vali' inclined his head, clearly smirking behind the helmet.

“Now that it's come to this, it's time for Phase 2.”

Azazel vomited blood, coating the digits still impaled in him with another layer of crimson. The splatter hit the dirt below with a wet, sickening sound.

“So… this is how it's gonna be, huh Vali?” Even through blood-stained teeth, the Fallen Angel somehow managed to crack a smile. “After taking you in… training you… treating you better than my own damn kids… and you sign your resignation in my blood?”

“It really is nothing personal,” Vali replied evenly. “I just got a way more interesting offer.”

With a dismissive twist of his wrist, the White Dragon Emperor ripped his hand free, then flung Azazel to the ground like discarded trash. The impact left a small crater beneath the Governor’s broken form.

Kiba and Griselda both rushed to him, the exorcist withdrawing her light sword to begin treating the Fallen Angel. Kiba traded the two nameless demonic swords in his hands for Holy Eraser, one of his go-to creations. He took a defensive position over them, keeping his eyes focused on the airborne traitor.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Issei demanded. “You're really gonna throw all of this away? Why?!”

Vali flicked the blood off his hand and turned his gaze upward, like he was searching the sky for an answer only he understood, before scoffing.

“It's simple; joining the Grigori was always a matter of convenience, never loyalty. The Brigade offered me an opportunity that he couldn't provide. But even before then, I decided a while back that I wasn't going to waste my time helping with Ddraig's latest pet project.”

He turned to really look at Issei, giving the same mocking head tilt he had used to provoke Kokabiel.

“I mean, look at you,” he started, voice dripping with disdain, “What is this half-assed patchwork you call a Scale Mail, anyway? What, are you so inept with the Boosted Gear that you can't even use it properly? How are we supposed to have our predestined battle for the ages, when you can't even hope to match me on the best of days?”

Vali rolled his head, the contempt in his voice sharpening further.

“Ugh, what a time to be alive; when your ‘fated rival’ needs a pep talk just to transform, or needs his friends to prop him up every time he falls down. You're a walking cliché, you know that? All heart, no edge. The kind of idiot that wins his fights with friendship and stupid luck.”

Issei’s fists clenched tighter with every word, his knuckles of his left hand aching in the gauntlet.

What the hell did this smug piece of shit know about anything? Was he murdered in cold blood? Was his world turned upside-down in one day?

“Face it,” Vali continued, “You’re not the Red Dragon Emperor, you're not even a genuine threat. You’re just a punk wearing a legend like a costume, hoping no one notices how poorly it fits. You sleep in a house and attend a school that could all be reduced to ash overnight, and every second you hesitate, someone bleeds for it. But sure, keep lying to yourself that restraint is your strength.”

Each mocking sentence struck Issei in the gut–not because the words were true, but because a part of him feared they were.

Vali didn't gloat or taunt with swagger, so much as speak with certainty. He simply hovered there; poised, relaxed, and perfectly still, as if he’d already won and was utterly bored of formality.

His eyes narrowed behind the visor before he gave a slight shrug.

“Now granted, we all just watched a Devil tear herself apart without restraint, trying to become something greater. She fed on power she couldn’t control, and it consumed her, all because she refused to accept what she was: a loser playing god.”

He tilted his head again, but not in mockery this time.

“You’re the same, just slower to crack. You hold back because you think there’s still something worth protecting. But take that fear of loss away –strip off the paint– and what's left?”

The silence hung heavy.

What?

Did he just…

“Now that I think about it… Maybe the thing to do here is to actually give you a hand, just this once.”

Vali extended a hand outward, palm facing up as if he were physically weighing the gesture. His eyes seemed to gleam behind his helmet's gold lenses.

“Your parents, or your master. I wouldn't even need to kill them; just a handshake, or a tap on the shoulder. That's all it would take to make the world you cling to come apart.”

Issei's fingers twitched minutely. His shoulders stiffened, breath drawing in a shallow, tight burst. He didn't even register the hopeful inflection of Vali's threat.

Something stirred inside him, but he couldn't place it.

Then…

---

…

Darkness.

…

“Again…?”

His voice. Distant. Fragile.

…

Then heat. Low and crawling.

Something old was waking.

…

“Weakness invites challenge.”

Not his voice. But neither Ddraig.

Who…

“He threatened your hoard.”

A pulse. Not fear; possession.

…

Rias.

His parents.

Everything that was his.

…

His treasures.

…

Another beat, even slower. Heavier.

“Treasure must be defended… Thieves must be destroyed.”

The fire surged.

“He mocks your name… Mocks your strength… Mocks your claim!”

His breath came out hot; a deep reptilian hiss, laced with rage.

…

Golden chains snapped around primal will and strained.

The tethers held. Barely.

The instinct snarled. Still bit back.

…

“Not yet, but soon.”

Another voice. Far softer, but strong nonetheless.

“Strike when the time is yours.”

…

Then silence.

Stillness.

…

But the fire hadn’t left.

It was waiting.

Ready to reignite.

---

Rias was beyond angry now; she was furious.

This night got worse by the hour. First, the conference was compromised by a traitor, throwing years of work and careful preparation into disarray. Then, Koneko was abducted by her SS-Rank Stray Devil of a sister right under Rias' nose, taken right from her place of sanctuary. There hadn't even been time for the heiress to properly process that.

And now, this battle junkie –this arrogant fool who had pawned off peace for cheap thrills– had the audacity to threaten not only her, but Issei's parents right in front of him?! The same ones that treated her like a daughter of their own?!

She would not stand for this! She didn't care who he was!

The Power of Destruction coursed through her arms, flowing out of her hands like fire.

“Don't, you, dare touch them! You–”

Before she could finish her threat, Rias sensed a change in the air; a pressure that felt… hauntingly familiar. She looked to Issei and gasped.

“Ise?”

He didn't respond. Her precious Pawn remained in place, his head lowered and hands tightly clenched.

An eerie hush gripped the battlefield, the air stilling as if the world had stopped, just like it seemed to do upon Vali's betrayal. Issei’s stance deepened, his body folding ever so slightly forward in a fighter’s posture, coiling in preparation. Thin wisps of steam began to hiss from the gaps in his armor, curled around his form in serpentine spirals and catching the light of his gauntlet with a dull gleam.

The Boosted Gear itself was pulsing differently now as well. Instead of the heartbeat-like sound she had heard before, the frequency had changed into something irregular, and the glow from the emerald orb was now far heavier.

Without a word from Issei, the Gear suddenly ignited; red light flared as glowing lines crawled across the gauntlet like living fire.

Right before her eyes, plates of red armor materialized one after another, locking into place on Issei's body with metallic bursts. Each segment slammed down like the beat of a heavy drum, accented by glowing seams of emerald energy. The Pawn's face was the last part of him to disappear behind a panel of crimson steel, his eyes becoming shielded by a pair of green lenses.

When the last piece snapped shut, the ground beneath him trembled, cracking from the raw pressure and kicking up dust in waves. A shockwave rippled outward, stirring the clouds overhead to part ways and give the heavens a glimpse of this new appearance.

Rias had no words; her mouth hung open like the heat of his presence has robbed the air from her lungs. The outright magnitude of what he'd achieved caused a surge of joy in her chest.

Issei had done it! He had unlocked the Boosted Gear's Balance Breaker!

But… this was different from Vali's, and vastly so.

Glancing between the two, she noted that Issei's form seemed more streamlined. In place of bulky plate armor was a formfitting suit that rippled in perfect fluidity with his movements… Almost too perfect.

The overall plating hugged his limbs in aerodynamic sweeps, each segment layered like scales forged for motion. Matching gauntlets and greaves were sleek and sharp, bearing the familiar green gem of the Boosted Gear in their centers, along with his chest. The pauldrons curved back sharply, as if to reduce drag, and the pair of crimson wings on his back were much the same: compact and potent, like the helm that crowned his head in horned, angular fins.

She watched him flex the newly clawed fingers of his left hand, then lifted his head slightly, and the armor seamlessly flexed along with it, as if it was a natural part of him.

'A subspecies?' she wondered. Had he really just–

The emerald lens of his helmet blazed with intensity, flaring like the narrowed eye of a predator on the hunt. Once again, the battlefield fell utterly silent, but only for a single heartbeat. The pressure around Issei dropped and then surged again, impossibly dense this time, gravity itself seeming to flinch from his awakening.

Vali made no comment on the change, though his head tilted forward in intrigue.

Issei stood to full height and slowly raised his head to the sky. His newly helmeted gaze locked with that of his 'fated rival.'

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked aloud, his voice distorting slightly. “To bring this out of me? Well, congratulations. You play, you pay, bastard.”

“Then make me pay,” came Vali's undaunted challenge. “I'll decide if it's worth the game.”

Rias blinked, and the sky exploded with force.

Issei had not flown, but leaped, to attack the White Dragon Emperor. His Knight Promotion was still active, but it didn't provide the speed needed to catch Vali off guard. Red and white armored claws and fists collided, sending showers of sparks and a resonant *CLANG* through the air.

And in that thunderous instant, Rias saw not just the boy that saved her, but the dragon within him; awake at last.

---

Inside the living room of Connor's apartment, Asia sat on the couch with her hands folded tightly in her lap. The soft overhead lamplight provided a peaceful, quietly intimate feeling to the room, in spite of the events occurring outside.

The exiled nun watched the magus silently as he sat beside her, eyes closed and sweat forming on his brow. His breathing was even but tight, and a faint aura emanated from his skin, resembling heat distortions in the air around him.

She didn't fully understand the complexity of magecraft, and likely never would, but she could certainly tell how much effort it was taking for him to manage the task at hand. Compared to last time, when their involvement was largely minimal and staggered, the Servants were now operating more actively and simultaneously, drawing Connor's magical energy much faster.

He had asked for her to stay with him while he was supplying the Servants with energy. To that end, he also instructed her on which of the stones laid out before them on the coffee table to put in his hands in the event he suddenly passed out. And while he'd given his word that he would stop if it got to be too much, the risk remained.

The urge to be near him stirred in her chest, quiet but steady. She fidgeted, caught between the warmth of being close and the ache of not knowing how else to help than pray.

He was right beside her, yet somehow still felt miles away.

The light ticking of the wall clock seemed louder than normal, each second falling like a drip of water echoing in a dark cavern.

She had wanted to talk with Connor about something for a while, but he had been very busy in the last week. And yet, now that she had something of a moment with him… she couldn't think of how to begin.

Her thoughts buzzed around her head like flies: 'Is now the right time?' 'Would it be too distracting?' 'Would it affect Caster and Assassin if he stops?'

'Oh, why is this so hard?' she lamented, bringing her hands to her face.

She willed herself to take a deep breath, trying to slow the rush in her chest. This wasn’t just about timing, she reminded herself; it was about saying what needed to be said, without making it about her.

' For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline. ' (2)

Finally, after another calming breath and a silent prayer, she drummed up the will to speak her mind.

Just as she made to initiate the conversation, though, Connor’s brow tightened. His eyes opened slowly, deliberately, then he inhaled and exhaled sharply through his nose.

It was nothing explosive, just a tightly-held irritation and tension under his usual control. He shifted slightly, leaning a hand on his knee and turning an unfocused gaze to the wall.

“What's wrong?” she asked, her voice low with caution.

He didn't answer at first. He just looked at her and allowed the hard expression he was bearing to soften. After a moment, he turned to view the wall once more, letting his eyes drift up to reach the ceiling.

“The rhythm just shifted. It's too patterned to be actual chaos; someone just wanted it to seem that way. And I don't like the timing.”

She didn't know how to respond to that. All she could think to do was watch him in concern.

The meaning behind the words escaped her, but the weight they carried was enough to remind her why she was here. She would be his pillar, just as he had been for her. Even if it meant waiting in silence.

But she wouldn't wait forever.

Her fingers gently brushed the cross at her neck in a solemn, quiet vow.

---

…

(1): To my fellow gamers, you can guess what these are.

(2): 2 Timothy 1:7, according to the NRSV bible.

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 27: Vicissitudes of Fate

Closing his eyes once more, the magus resumed his meditation.

Maintaining two active contracts with Heroic Spirits was like keeping two separate engines running on a single power core. While not impossible thanks to Caster's established territory, it was still difficult. Especially now, since both Servants were drawing on his magical energy more actively. Subtle waves and sudden spikes wove through his circuits like a low-level electric current. The tension in his limbs never quite left, and every now and then, he had to flex his fingers and toes to make sure he still had proper muscular function.

He wouldn't just burn out if he lost control of the flow; he’d be cooked alive from the inside.

An alteration in the mental link forewarned of an incoming message.

'The infiltrator teams have been eliminated; town's all quiet to the north and south. And just so you know, I've already got a good spot picked out for Sunday.'

His lips twitched.

'We'll make it happen. Assassin?'

'My drone shows that the Sitri heiress and her peerage have completed securing the shrine,' the automaton reported.

'Any complications?'

'None whatsoever.'

Even through a mental conversation, he took note of a sterile quality to her tone that made the silence between the lines louder. Given her efficiency, there was little doubt the magicians never knew what hit them.

'Perfect. And the summit?'

'The fighting is largely over; only the Red and White Dragon Emperors are battling now. For the moment, they seem evenly matched, but… the difference in experience speaks volumes of the outcome.'

'So, Issei's gonna lose, huh? Figured as much, but… anyway, keep me updated.'

Vali’s betrayal had been a game-changer, even though it made a fair amount of sense. With his power, pride, and distance from any real loyalty, Connor supposed it was only a matter of time before someone like him sought greener pastures. Still… the way it played out didn’t sit right with him. Assassin had reported that the attack appeared real; putting a whole hand clean through someone's torso was pretty hard to fake.

And yet, Connor couldn’t let go of the sense that something was off. Not so much in what Vali had done, but in when and how he’d done it. It was too public, like it was meant to be seen. And on top of that, why wait to act until after Azazel had killed the female Devil? Why not double team the Cadre and overwhelm him?

He told himself he was probably overthinking again, but the feeling just wouldn’t leave. It clung to the back of his thoughts like a half-forgotten song or a phrase without meaning.

Where was Caster to smack him out of his own head when he needed it?

Oh, right. He was keeping an eye on the western front now.

'How's it going with Tobio and them?'

'Well… it's better if you see that for yourself, kid. Views of the Land incoming.'

In response, Connor lowered his head and touched a finger to his forehead, invoking a Kenaz rune to complete the link.

Having used the Views of the Land array on Assassin's drone to great effect, the next natural step was to make a direct connection to his own mind. Unfortunately, that came with something of a learning curve. The sensation of his retinas twisting inside out, pulling toward some invisible horizon with the intent of vacating his head was beyond disturbing. He’d learned, very quickly, to keep his eyes shut until the feed stabilized.

Of course, Caster just laughed when Connor glared daggers at him for that 'slight oversight.'

Counting to five in his head, he slowly opened his eyes to take in the new scenery.

The world came into focus like a curtain lifting, and Connor found himself seeing through another lens–anchored to a stationary vantage point Caster had rigged for the array. The perspective hovered just above eye level, elevated enough to offer a sweeping view of the western field. There wasn't a building in sight, just uneven terrain scarred by earlier spells, blackened patches of earth, and lines carved deep into the soil from impact trails.

Detonations and flurries of light whipped through the air, carving arcs across the night as shadow creatures attacked and defended in small, fluid groups. Connor saw Kouki delivering a series of hammer-blows that shook the ground with concussive force, sending a few enemies tumbling into the waiting claws and fangs of a massive tiger. Natsume –riding atop a bona fide gryphon– rained gunfire from above, while her mount unleashed gales that scattered enemy ranks.

And at the center of it all was Tobio himself, his form shrouded in a darkness deeper than the creatures around him. In his hands, a sword wreathed in black and red flame tore through one monster after another, searing and scarring everything it touched.

In viewing what looked like a scene out of a high-budget action fantasy movie, only one thought crossed Connor's mind.

'…Holy shit.'

---

The shrieks of the abominations wove into the rhythm of explosions, lightning bursts, and blades tearing through fused flesh. Slash/Dog's opposition, once overwhelming in number, was beginning to thin—but every step forward was still fought for tooth and nail.

Tobio’s form carved through the front line, black fire trailing behind him as shadow and blade tore the enemy apart. He ducked under a wild swing from a malformed arm, pivoted, and split the offending beast cleanly down the middle with a vertical slash of his blade. One burst into dust beside him by way of Kouki’s lightning, and another fell to pieces in a flurry of aerial slashes courtesy of Natsume.

Kōki kept a steady advance just off Tobio’s left flank, his body crackling with residual voltage as bolts leapt from his arms to ward off enemies that got too close. Opposite him, Byakusa lunged at another encroaching shadow beast, cleaving through two sets of arms with savage precision. With each swipe of his spear and Byakusa's claws and tails, jagged streams of lightning flared out, stunning or reducing their targets to smoldering heaps.

Natsume and Griffin circled above them in wide sweeps, flinging concussive wind projectiles that tore through the enemy’s center, keeping pressure from range even as they maintained aerial dominance.

Yet despite the team's coordination, the line refused to fully break. The monsters kept reforming, flesh knitting back together from scattered limbs and mangled torsos. Only Tobio’s strikes –bolstered by the cursed flames of Ame-no-Ohabiri– left lingering damage that stalled their regeneration. He could feel it with each swing, the way their bodies hesitated to reconstitute after the fire-touched shadows burned through them.

Two beasts lunged at him simultaneously, jaws unhinged and arms like crooked branches outstretched.

Before they reached him, a wave of frost surged across the battlefield. Lavinia dropped in from the sky like a falling star of white and blue, touching down gently.

A towering, feminine figure of sculpted ice descended directly behind her, regal and otherworldly. Six luminous eyes ran down the left side of its otherwise featureless face, while thorn-like spines jutted from the right, as if the statue itself had been wounded and frozen mid-scream. Frost bled from its form in curling tendrils, and with each silent movement of its four arms, the air grew heavier, like the breath of winter itself was watching.

With a wordless command, Absolute Demise released its power; a wave of its arms sent a sweeping blizzard that enveloped the abominations, freezing them all solid in mid-motion. With no wound to regenerate, or even the freedom to move, the battle came to a sudden halt.

“Took your sweet time, didn't ya, Witch?!” Kōki griped, unbothered by the cold.

“Not now, Shark,” she rebuffed.

For a moment, there was quiet across the field. And then, the young summoner snarled.

The boy held out his hands again, gritting his teeth as the serpentine mark advanced further up his face. A momentary cough hacked up a glob of blood that spilled out from between grit teeth. His eyes began to bleed now, too, as streaks of crimson ran down to drip from his chin.

Lavinia made to attack with her construct, but a much larger shadowy portal surged into being first. From its center crawled out another monster, easily dwarfing all the others before it.

Whereas the abominable shadows prior to this resembled fusions of human bodies, the creature towering before them now vaguely looked like a giant, diseased tree, given life as well as a pair of massive arms. Sheets of bark twisted like armor plates over its frame, cracking and groaning with every unnatural shift. Its limbs bent at grotesque angles, knotted like muscle-bound roots, and from the dozens of orifices across its trunk-like torso, oily black mist poured out and writhed into the air, evaporating before it ever reached the ground.

A massive 'mouth' split open across its chest like a gaping wound, and from it came a guttural bellow that shook the air. A dark red miasma began forming within its throat, almost glowing with foul power, before the creature lurched and spat the vapor in a thick, roiling cloud toward Lavinia.

The mist rolled steadily forward, corroding and dissolving everything it touched. Plant life, soil, stone and even the frozen remnants of shadows monsters were not spared. Those caught in its path were mercilessly reduced to puddles of black ooze.

The icy construct standing over its creator made no move to intervene; there was no need for it.

A massive wall of churning wind blew into existence before the deadly cloud could make contact. Despite the lack of an actual impact, the collision of the two intangible forces was violent all the same. The monster's acidic breath poured on, momentarily dyeing the wall a similar shade of sickly red.

At the cyclone's center, Natsume calmly levitated above the ground with her arms outstretched, and her hair and cape billowing wildly in the winds. Her silhouette was outlined by an eerie green glow, while her eyes shone with a more piercing shade. With currents of air twisting around her limbs in all directions, feeding into the storm of her creation, she more closely resembled a sylph than a human being.

“You’re not breaking through that.” Within the turbulent winds surrounding them, her declaration echoed.

Frost erupted upward from the ground as Lavinia seized the opportunity, swiftly and ominously encasing the massive shadow-beast in a clear blue tomb. It let out a muffled groan as its limbs slowed, its body coming to a stop mid-lurch, frozen in defiance like those before it.

“Byakusa!”

Kōki's yell earned a thunderous cry and a burst of white lightning in response. His Sacred Gear transformed as it flew into his outstretched left hand, condensing into a long, barbed spear with arcs of electricity dancing from its head down the shaft. The armament glowed fiercely in his grip, humming and buzzing like a power transformer ready to explode.

Temperatures around him grew so intense that the surrounding ice skipped melting and turned directly into steam.

The agent expertly twirled his new weapon and took aim at the frozen monster's gaping maw.

“Say 'ahhh!'”

With a roar of exertion, he flung the lance towards its target; right down the throat. Spinning like a drill through the air, a crackling streak of vengeance, the spear made contact with the frozen monster in a blinding flash. The monster's body erupted in a burst of ash and scalding steam, vanishing almost the instantly. The sudden sublimation blew the rest of the glacier apart violently, throwing chunks of frozen shadow everywhere which hit the ground and shattered into blackened ice crystals.

Kōki didn’t hesitate; in the same motion, lightning instantly gathering in his hand again, forming another spear, before he whirled and hurled it at the now defenseless enemy.

The second spear was almost upon its target, until something else got in the way.

A wall of thick, purple mist surged forward like an incoming tide, enveloping the boy as if to protect him. The second spear vanished into the haze with barely a sizzle, its light dimming until it was swallowed whole.

“The hell?!”

When the fog lifted moments later, the boy was gone.

“Ugh, dammit! Of course the little twerp would bug out the moment shit hit the fan!”

“That wasn't him.”

Lavinia lowered her arm with measured calm, though the tight line of her mouth betrayed a sharpened wariness. The four arms of Absolute Demise mimicked her precisely, quietly folding in. A second later, cracks split across the construct’s headpiece, and its entire frame began to fracture, limbs and body splintering into a thousand shimmering shards of frost before drifting like snowflakes into the dark.

Similarly, the remaining monsters frozen in ice began to break down. With their summoner gone, the last beasts lost shape, fading into formless shadows that crumpled inward like empty skins. One by one, as their prisons broke down and dissipated, they vanished with nary a trace.

“That fog was something else, another Sacred Gear.”

Tobio let out a long breath, the last flickers of his pseudo-Balance Breaker receding to where his human form regained shape. Jin returned to his side in a sweep of black shadow, sitting back on his haunches. Natsume, too, descended as the winds died away, the glow around her body fading when her feet touched earth again.

“This was always the diversion. Always part of the plan.”

He turned toward the academy, where the battle undoubtedly continued.

---

Another shockwave shattered glass and sent the air screaming between them.

Issei shot forward repeatedly, claws bared and thrusters flaring. Vali met him mid-air with a casual glide, not even needing to dodge. He just parried blow after blow with elegant, brutal economy. Fists clashed. Wings roared. A blurred storm of footwork and hammering strikes sent tremors across Kuoh Academy's airspace, each collision louder than the last.

He kept pressing –just like he had for the last twenty seconds– trying to wrest momentum back in his favor, but Vali moved like he was already two steps ahead. He had even Boosted Twice, but that still wasn't enough. Vali weaved around his attacks, punishing every miss or hesitation, only drawing the occasional scrape across non-vital spots.

Vali was toying with him, like a cat playing with a mouse, just to see how far it could run.

A right cross suddenly slipped past his block and caved into his side.

“GUGH!”

He felt something in his chest pop and crack with that hit.

The follow-up hook caught his knee and sent lightning down his leg. Then a rising elbow to the shoulder joint. A spinning kick then smashed across his back and sent him reeling, his Balance Breaker armor crumpling and fracturing in spiderweb lines.

He didn’t even register wherever the last hit had landed before the sky flipped, and gravity wrenched him downward.

He hit a nearby rooftop like a meteor, shattering tiles and rupturing steel beams, then kept going. His body slammed into the floor below, buried in dust and wood and old plaster, with a crash that echoed through the bones of the half-collapsing structure.

The pain caught up to him at that point, hitting him in a unforgiving wave. It wasn't like the Rating Game, where the pain stopped after his body had gone numb. This was way worse, like something had stabbed straight in and twisted, wrenching his lungs and ribs out of place.

His breath came out in rasps as he braced his arms against the rubble around him, now fighting to get his breathing under control. He hacked and coughed; everything hurt now, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

The armor around his chest groaned, splitting apart along the cracks. For all the speed that it granted, it might as well have been made of tin foil.

Fighting the ache in his neck, he lifted his head.

Vali hovered in the sky through the shattered hole in the roof, arms crossed, calm and contemptuous, like he was still waiting for the actual fight to begin.

It was evident from about the halfway point in their fight, but…

–––––

“You're no rat; rats would do the sensible thing and flee while they could.”

…

“You couldn't even save yourself from me, wretch!”

…

“Useless! Pathetic! Why were you even born?!”

–––––

“Urgh, SHUT UP!” Issei roared without meaning to. He hadn't even realized that his teeth were grinding while those memories replayed in his mind.

Issei knew damn well what he was doing here; who he was fighting to protect! That pompous gigolo had no say in his worth, and never did!

'Mom…'

Standing in the kitchen in her favorite apron, humming as she stirred the pot, the scent of curry filling the whole house. Her eyes always crinkling when she smiled at him.

'Dad…'

Slouched at the dining table with the paper folded under one arm. He always gave that goofy thumbs-ups whenever Issei showed his report card, whether it was good or not.

'Rias…'

Her cascading scarlet locks, flowing like fine silk in even the slightest breeze, her hand always reaching for his. Smiling at him like he mattered, like she believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself. Like she saw him – where everyone else saw him as a lost cause.

–––––

“That's all it would take to make the world you cling to come apart.”

–––––

The armor sparked with fresh light. Cracks across his gauntlets split wider as he growled and ripped the fractured plates away, metal shrieking in protest. He tore loose the twisted vambrace from his left arm, then the crushed shoulder guard from his right, adding them to the piles of rubble beside him.

Molten-red energy surged over the exposed gaps, reforging every piece he'd torn away, and more. New plating formed –as sleek and sharp as before– reinforced with renewed power from the Boosted Gear. At his back, the thrusters in his wings flared and revved to life again like jet engines ready to fire.

His fists clenched, and his blood roared louder than any pain.

No way in hell was he going to let this bastard anywhere near them!

He pushed himself fully upright, boots grinding against flooring. His body trembled with the excruciating effort, but his fury refused to let him fall.

He glared up through the splintered roof, locking eyes with the floating scumbag above.

'Fuck this guy!'

“BOOST!”

---

Vali cracked a smile behind his mask, watching in mixed interest as the current Red Dragon Emperor stood to his feet.

He’d seen enough to satisfy his curiosity. As he'd suspected, the gap between them was too vast to really satisfy his hunger for battle. Still, it was interesting to watch him manually tear his own Scale Mail apart for the sake of replacing it. He idly thought it might be fun to see how long the idiot was willing to keep going with that.

With a shrug, Vali raised his hand and decided to get a start on finishing things.

“ DIVIDE! ”

Power surged into his body, crisp and electric. It poured into his limbs like a new charge to a battery, priming him for the final blow.

Hyōdō shuddered, clearly rattled. But then, he exploded forward again, eyes burning behind his visor and claws flashing.

Vali’s own eyes narrowed as he was forced to block instead of retaliate.

'What the hell? That should’ve staggered him.'

A wild backhand flew for his head, which he blocked, then a follow-up swipe aimed for his legs with the opposite hand. He blocked that as well, only for a third strike to hit his defending elbow, and another to catch him along the leg.

Snarling, Vali twisted his body with a spin to break the flow, retaliating with a heavy right hook aimed at Hyōdō’s midsection. The Pawn dipped just under it and came up fast, throwing a shoulder check to Vali's chest that succeeded in shoving him back a small distance. Before he had even stopped moving, a red blur was already in his face again, claws extended and targeting his exposed flank.

'Why is he still this fast?'

Hyōdō was working tighter angles now, showing fewer gaps between each movement, throwing combos in groups of three or four now, and attacking from completely different angles; mostly the limbs and joints. His blows lacked force, but they kept just connecting; sharper, quicker, and with almost no warning.

Vali continued to parry and block, trying to follow this new pattern while silently noting the strikes that landed.

“BOOST!”

“DIVIDE!”

The dragons' voices shouted in near unison this time, though the surge in extra strength told Vali he had made his move second.

Once again, the power transfer worked. But just as before, Hyōdō surged ahead after a brief pause, faster than ever.

Vali caught the next claw with his forearm, then deflected another two in a cross-guard parry, but a fourth came dangerously low and nearly sliced into the plates at his abdomen. He vaulted back through the air, wings flaring to create distance, but Hyōdō was already there, launching upward with a burst of red energy and refusing to give him breathing room.

'Vali, something's wrong,' Albion finally spoke.

'No kidding?' Vali snipped, dodging another flurry of strikes.

'Drop the attitude! This isn’t natural. Something about that armor is preventing Divide from affecting his speed.'

'Is that even possible?' Vali's next counter failed to connect.

“It shouldn't be! Ddraig's hosts have never been able to resist it before. Unless…”

“BOOST!”

Streaks of blue and red lights darted across the sky and school grounds in a storm of motion. Hyōdō's visage seemed to flicker, zigzagging with high-speed bursts as crimson talons repeatedly clashed against silver gauntlets. Each impact cracked through the air like gunshots, both fighters' voices drowning amidst the noise while they continued their chaotic spiral of a duel.

In the back of his mind, Vali knew better than to let a fight like this drag on, but damn if he wasn't having fun with it. The controlled ferocity behind Hyōdō's attacks, coupled with this bizarre resistance to Divine Dividing, brought their battle to a fever pitch that left Vali craving more.

“Alright… if that's how you want to play this.”

Vali shot higher into the sky and spread his ethereal wings to their fullest. The air crackled around him while he smirked.

“Let's get a little more serious, shall we?”

“HALF DIMEN–”

“BURST!”

The shout came too fast. A red flash sliced across his vision, and before Vali could even process the danger, something hit him from every direction at once. He reeled, armor plates grinding under the pressure, and was forced to hover still for a moment to reorient.

“Wha–”

Hyōdō appeared in front of him with a furious roar, driving a clawed hand across his mask. Vali only barely pulled away, losing half of his faceplate in the process with a spray of sparks.

Vali flinched, barely catching himself. He responded by catching the Pawn by the throat, then launching a savage roundhouse kick to the spine. Issei flew straight back to the earth even more brutally than before, carving a trench into the ground where his body slid for quite a ways.

With some space to finally think, he descended from the air until he stood back on solid ground.

'What was that?'

'I see…' Albion muttered. 'All those scratches, the small touches that seemed so clumsy or mistimed… They were targeting points for whatever he just did. Every hit was another mark, and every Boost multiplied whatever force he put into them initially.'

Vali’s mind raced. That was… actually kind of clever. Even minor strikes, if stacked properly and imbued with energy at the right moment, could cleave straight through a stronger enemy, or cut them to pieces.

'Ddraig, you shameless bastard! Rip off and repackage MY Gear's mechanics, will you?!'

While Albion fumed indignantly, Vali felt a hot sting spreading over his face. He brought a hand to his cheek and brushed it curiously. When he pulled it away, his fingers were damp and tinged with red.

It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. He blinked… once, twice… then he grinned.

“Hehehehahaha! Oh, man! Isn't this just bitchin'?! The one guy I had no hope for, and he exceeds all my expectations!”

How long had it been since someone had drawn his blood in battle? Months? Years? He'd almost forgotten the feeling, but now that someone had finally managed to remind him, he couldn't be happier.

This –this– was what it meant to live. To fight. To dominate.

“Y'know what? I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna give him a first-hand look at just how far he still has to go to catch up!”

' No, Vali, don't get distracted. This is not the time to bring that out. '

As if. Now was an excellent time.

“I, who am about to awaken,”

Power flooded outward from his armor's central orb, spreading through his body and flaring into a column of mounting pressure.

'Vali! Are you listening? You are not bringing that to bear here!'

'Shut up, Albion! This is just getting exciting, don't ruin it for me!'

“Am the Heavenly Dragon who lost all to the principles of supremacy.”

His armor's glow increased in magnitude, radiant energy lashing out in crackling waves that scattered clouds and churned the air around him. The sky itself seemed to warp, rippling like water.

Across from him, Hyōdō slowly picked himself up again; even now, the idiot refused to quit.

Vali's smile continued to grow.

'VALI!'

“I envy the 'infinite,' and I pursue–”

“HWAYAAAH!”

A loud, annoying shriek from above forced Vali to stop Juggernaut Drive and lift his arms to block the incoming strike aimed for his head. The impact kicked up dust, though it caused no further damage to Vali's armor. In response, he swatted away the offending object and its wielder.

The new attacker planted his feet on the ground beside Vali and shouldered the heavy staff in his hands.

“Aw man, I almost gotcha!”

He was tall, slim yet toned, and sporting thematic armor fit for war from the Three Kingdoms era. His short, dark hair bore a slight reddish tint, and the playful look in his brown eyes held just enough smugness to put Vali in a bad mood almost immediately.

Of course, from the moment they first met, Vali knew that this guy was going to be insufferable.

“Bikō… I swear, if you don't have a damn good reason for interrupting…”

“You mean besides the condition of your face?” the monkey yōkai grinned. Vali's eye twitched and his wings flared in warning, though the idiot just ignored it as his smile flattened. “Plans are getting rearranged, Ophis wants everyone back. No bullshit.”

That gave Vali pause.

Ophis never seemed to really care whatever the Brigade actually did, so long as they got results. Hell, it let every group under the Brigade's banner keep their respective autonomy with hardly any kind of oversight.

So why was it taking charge now?

“Don't ask me why, I was just told to come and get you,” Bikō added with a shrug.

Reluctantly, Vali lowered his arms. Perhaps he did get a little carried away, but who could blame him?

“Fine, let's go,” he huffed.

“Go? You're not going anywhere!”

Hyōdō roared, charging the pair. He didn't get far with that, however, before his legs gave out from under him and he collapsed. His armor fell to pieces around him and vanished in flashes of light.

“Aagh! Damn!”

“Ise!” The Gremory heiress cried in worry, rushing for the downed Pawn.

That he’d lasted this long on a half-baked Balance Breaker said a lot about his potential.

“Sorry, Red Dragon. Playtime's over for now. HWA!” Bikō spun his staff and slammed the butt into the ground beneath himself, opening a teleportation circle.

Before he and Bikou disappeared into the void below them, Vali looked back one last time.

“You've piqued my interest, Issei Hyōdō, so do us both a favor and get stronger for next time.”

The teen, bloodied and bruised, managed to lift his head and glare. The two exchanged one last look; one side in defiance, the other from confidence.

An unspoken promise was sworn between them in that moment.

'Next time.'

---

The academy looked worse now than it did after Kokabiel's assault.

The smoke had cleared, but scorch marks courtesy of the magician group blackened the once-pristine brickwork of the main building’s east wing. Deep trenches scarred the courtyard where Issei and Vali’s battle had intensified and torn across, rendering it unrecognizable. The assembly hall had taken the worst damage by far, having lost its roof and an entire wall, but stubbornly remained standing.

The factions' defensive forces, once frozen in stasis, were now assisting where they could in the efforts. Most scoured the area for more hostiles, while a few others provided aid to the Sitri and Gremory peerage members in restoring the damages.

Rias never thought she would see the day where Angels, Fallen and Devils would work together on anything. And yet, here it was, however small.

Within the assembly hall, the leaders of Heaven and the Underworld gathered again, beneath the faded glow of what remained of the building's protective measures. Michael turned Sirzechs and Serafall, their expressions drawn and serious as their soldiers finished delivering their latest reports.

“The perimeter’s secure again,” Sirzechs said quietly. “No further breaches, and all our forces are accounted for.”

Michael gave a short nod, though his brow remained furrowed. “And Koneko Toujou?”

Serafall’s arms folded across her chest, shaking her head.

“We know who took Koneko,” Sirzechs added, “but not exactly why. Kuroka had a chance to do far more damage, especially having compromised Gasper’s Sacred Gear. Instead, she settled for the bare minimum.”

“So we’re left guessing.” Michael's frown deepened. “If her original goal was to sabotage the treaty, what purpose did abducting Miss Toujou serve?”

“It probably didn't; this was personal for her,” the Satan Lucifer supposed. “They are sisters, after all. Still, for her to go this far so brazenly. Intentionally or not, it sent a message loud and clear.”

“Then let's send one right back,” Serafall replied, lifting her chin. “We finish the summit, and sign the treaty. Otherwise, this Brigade controls the narrative.”

“Glad you agree.”

All heads turned as Azazel approached the gathering, supported by a black-haired young man and flanked by three other people. Kiba and Griselda walked behind the new faces out of precaution, hands resting on their sheathed weapons.

Azazel's bloodied coat parted just enough to display the grisly, half-sealed wound punched clean through his chest. His left arm –little more than a charred stump concealed by a tattered sleeve– hung limply down. Despite it all, he walked under his own power, leaning just enough on the man to make movement possible.

His face was pale and drawn with pain, but his eyes were sharp, and his voice still firmly carried.

Michael stepped forward, concern etched across his face. “Azazel, you shouldn’t even be standing right now. Let the med–”

“Serafall's right. If we call this off, they will win,” Azazel said without skipping a beat. “And it’ll show the whole damn supernatural world that a gaggle of terrorists can stroll in, blow shit up, and send us all running. What kind of leaders would that make us?”

Silence stretched as the heads of state exchanged quiet glances, measuring not just each other, but the eyes of those around them. The Cadre's words struck a very heavy chord with everyone.

The treaty hadn’t just survived the night; this trial by fire had proven that it earned the right to exist.

Sirzechs gave a nod, solemn and slow. “Alright… then let’s finish it.”

“Yes, but first,” Michael said gently, gesturing a hand to the new group that stood beside Azazel, “perhaps it would be best if all parties involved in tonight’s defense properly identified themselves.”

The black-haired male looked to Azazel, who wordlessly urged him forward. The man approached the leaders and gave a respectful bow, his uniform slightly torn in some places, though he bore no wounds.

“Tobio Ikuse, field leader of the Slash/Dog Team. We're a human-exclusive operations squad under the Grigori, specializing in assault, assassination, and more recently, counter-insurgency. With me are Agents Samejima, Minagawa, and Lavinia Reni of Grauzauberer.

“Please accept our sincerest apologies,” he said, giving another bow. “Our presence tonight was meant to be a preventive measure. However, we failed to account for all possible avenues used by the enemy. For that, we take full responsibility.”

The rest of Ikuse's group followed his lead in bowing.

Griselda inclined her head from beside Michael. “I don't believe that is a cross your team needs to bear, Signore Ikuse. You did what you could. And without you here at all, we would have fared far worse.”

“They were here on my orders, just so we're all clear,” Azazel explained. “I had a feeling this was gonna get hairy from the start. Attacks like this are one of the Khaos Brigade's go-to strategies: A large-scale diversion meant to draw defenders away from the real target. If they didn't know that we had people in place and ready for that, they might play their hand just a little too soon. Which they did.”

“Then we’re fortunate that you listened to your instincts,” Sirzechs said, tone clipped as he turned toward the inner circle of leaders. “Responsibility for shortcomings can be dealt with later. For now, let’s return to the matter at hand.”

For the next hour, all three sides brought forward their terms and conditions to the agreement. Above all else, hostilities between the factions were to cease and desist, effective immediately. The need for cooperation outweighed any lingering grudges. As such, acts of aggression or violence would not be tolerated under any circumstance.

Serafall went a step further with the negotiations, proposing a system of trade between the factions in the interest of strengthening factional relations.

…

Rias was only half-listening, though.

The proceedings from there more or less blurred behind a thick, pulsing ache in her chest. Her eyes were dry as she idly watched events play out.

She was a failure as a King.

She should've known better… she should've implemented a fail-safe at the clubhouse – or several. Even if they didn't detect intruders any better, at least they could have raised an alarm that something else in the system wasn't working. There were so many opportunities to have done something, but not once did she think it was necessary.

She should've been more attentive, more diligent. Her servants' safety was her responsibility.

She should've done more… but… she didn't…

And now…

A light pressure settled on her shoulder.

Rias turned and found her Queen standing beside her, offering a soft, sorrowful look that pierced straight through the fog in her mind. The Thunder Priestess’ eyes shimmered faintly in the low light, and in them, Rias saw no judgment.

Of course Akeno would know what she was thinking.

The first sob racked her body like a punch. Her knees buckled slightly, and Akeno caught her in an instant, arms slipping around her. Rias collapsed into her embrace, fists clutching at her sleeves, the dam breaking all at once. The grief poured out, raw and ragged.

Akeno held her through all of it, like the steadfast pillar she was to Rias.

---

The safehouse was little more than carved stone, reinforced by simple concealment spells. Magic lights hung like old bulbs from metal hooks along the low ceiling, casting a dull amber hue over the space. Stark yet functional, stifling in its silence, as if the walls themselves were listening for missteps.

Par for the course with the Brigade’s stingy use of resources.

Bikō leaned back against one of the support beams, arms crossed lazily with his staff leaning just within reach. Vali, meanwhile, sat on a stone bench with his helmet set aside, inspecting parts of his damaged armor that he hadn't dismissed.

The White Dragon Emperor looked more irritated than anything, and not at all bothered by the two cuts that started at his left jawline and ran parallel across his cheek to his nose.

Bikō opened his mouth, ready to offer one of his usual jabs but stopped. The specific line he'd been ready to toss fell flat before it left his throat.

The heavy iron door creaked open. There was no flourish or activation of any magic seals, just the cold groan of metal on stone as a single figure stepped through.

He couldn’t have been older than his early twenties, with short cut black hair and eyes the color of polished sapphires. His navy-trimmed tunic was precise in both trim and color, every fold in place, the fabric more tailored than anything else in the room. No blade hung at his side, nor from his back, but he moved like his authority was to be properly recognized all the same.

It made Bikō want to roll his eyes.

“Explain something to me, White Dragon,” the man addressed without preamble. “How is it that everyone from the Hero Faction can manage to do their jobs correctly, but everyone else falls short, including you?”

'Oooh, the first shot has been fired!'

Vali stood slowly, then took several equally unhurried steps until he was just within arms reach of the man.

“Excuse me, waiter, I'd like some context with that accusation.”

Bikō's head whipped to the left, stifling a snort. If Cao Cao noticed, he made no move to acknowledge.

“Your task was to kill Azazel,” Cao Cao elaborated. “It should have been quick and clean with how close you were to him. So pray tell, why is he still alive?”

“I was aiming for his liver, but he shifted at the last possible moment, so I missed. Even then, punching a hole through someone's gut tends to do the job, anyway, so it's no big deal if it didn't work this time. Lady Luck just gave him a free pass today.”

The nonchalance of the answer served to further incense the Hero Faction leader, though he managed to force it behind a cold smile.

“Well, bully for you. He lives, and now the treaty stands. For all our effort to destabilize the Biblical alliance before it ever began, we achieved nothing.”

“Not entirely true; they're on shaky ground. Now they can't be sure who's really on their side, if someone like me was able to turn traitor.” A faint grin tugged at Vali's mouth. “Let’s not pretend having Azazel survive doesn’t help us. At least, for the time being.”

Cao Cao’s smile faded. He didn't reply right away. Instead, he studied Vali with an intensity that felt as deliberate as an actor hitting every beat of a practiced script.

“Ah, so is that why you nearly broke into Juggernaut Drive? To send a message?”

Vali's own grin cooled.

“No, you escalated without cue. And in doing so, you allowed Rias Gremory's Pawn to tap into the Boosted Gear and gain an edge on you.”

“Look, when the teleportation gate fell, the plan flew out the window; I had no choice but to improvise. And while we're pointing fingers, what about Kuroka? Shouldn't you be burning her at the stake for going way farther off-script than me?”

“I've already had words with her, not that she cared in the slightest. To be expected, really; like any cat, she just did as she pleased.”

“And yet she still accomplished her objective. So what's really bothering you?”

“What bothers me is that we build these plans to function, to adapt, and ultimately succeed. They do not exist so that individuals can stroke their egos by running amok and enacting their own agendas.”

“You don't even know what it takes to stroke my ego.”

“Not much, evidently.”

Bikō kept silent, his eyes flicking between the two. He watched the standoff unfold with the same interest he gave an alley brawl: equal parts entertainment and unease. Neither of them was going to back down first.

Eventually, though, Cao Cao pulled his posture straighter, allowing the sharpness in his voice to soften just a touch.

“Leonardo’s diversion went as we had expected it to go, even though the boy pushed himself too hard in the process and needed rescuing by Georg. But that's the only thing that went right tonight. According to the headmaster of Nilrem, the forward magician teams they provided for the mission are all dead, with no explanation.”

Vali blinked, and adjusted his stance just enough to show he deemed the information noteworthy.

“How many?”

“Thirty-two casualties total, and no witnesses to their deaths; there wasn't even a trail to follow. The Devils only found a small handful of corpses. Now, Nilrem's trying to withdraw from the Brigade entirely.”

“Did Ophis not try to stop them?”

“It did stop them, by threatening to eat them.”

Bikō involuntarily shivered. Ophis wasn't normally a being that made threats, but when it did…

He’d once heard a rumor that some cocky Devil from the Old Satans made the mistake of mocking the Dragon of Infinity's newest appearance to its face. All that was supposedly found afterward was a void in the floor, as if the universe suddenly decided that spot didn't need to exist.

“The bottom line is that we were compromised; something I was deeply hoping to avoid,” Cao Cao said, leveling into an analytical tone. “The gate's premature fall was the catalyst, but if no one from the Grigori had a hand in it, and no one else is claiming responsibility…”

“Then who?” Vali finished.

“That is what we need to find out next. If nothing else, we now know that Kokabiel's folly was not a fluke, but the work of a puppeteer. For the sake of future endeavors, we need to be better prepared.”

Cao Cao turned to leave, but paused just long enough to look over his shoulder at Vali.

“The power you wield is undeniable, White Dragon Emperor. It's why Ophis approached you in the first place, but power without structure invites disorder. Try not to make it so we experience chaos any more than our enemies do.”

Turning back, he exited without another word, the heavy door groaning shut behind him. Somehow, the air felt colder when he was gone.

Bikō waited another five seconds before commenting.

“That guy's an asshole, but he’s not wrong, either,” he said matter-of-factly. “As long as this ghost is creeping around Kuoh, we can expect to run into problems like this again.”

“'Ghost,' huh? Don't tell me the descendant of the great Sun Wukong is afraid of phantoms.”

The yōkai cackled at the jab. “Kehehehe! Nah, the old monkey had more than a few tricks for dealing with stray specters. They're easy once they're found, especially since they're always stuck with whatever or wherever they're haunting.”

“Then there's nothing to worry about,” Vali waved off. “The world's bigger than a backwater town. If His Royal Majesty wants to be paranoid about every little detail, that's his prerogative.”

“Which you know he's gonna make a problem for everyone else.” Bikō pushed off the beam with a shrug. “Well, as long as it means we get better fights next time, 'spose I can't complain too much.”

Grinning as he made for the door, he didn’t notice the shrewd gleam in Vali’s eyes.

---

…

Notes:

If you enjoyed what you read, please let me know. Any advice, support or constructive criticism that you could give would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 28: Seeds of Tomorrow

Notes:

Got this one done quicker than normal because I had two of the scenes already mapped out and largely filled by the time I finished with 27.

Azazel watched from the broken courtyard as clean-up operations wound down around him.

His arm and chest wounds had now been closed properly, though the odd aches remained, and Michael recommended that he take it easy for a bit while they handled the rest.

Although they were granted respites of their own, the Gremory and Sitri heiresses continued to work, directing their peerages in aiding with the school's reconstruction. The low hum of spells and the crackling of shifting stone filled the air like musical instruments in the night.

They put up a brave front, but from his position, Azazel could see that there was no sense of victory shared among the youngsters. The worst of them was Rias. Her expression reminded him of what his fellow Fallen went through during the war: whatever was gained meant nothing if friends were lost along the way.

Michael and Sirzechs approached him after talking with Grayfia for a while.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" the Arch-Seraph asked, the nun, Griselda, by his side again.

Azazel shrugged, with a bit of effort.

"Lost the arm, took a hand through the chest, and we still got the treaty signed-I'll call it a win."

"You've been through worse," Sirzechs commented, tilting his head slightly.

"Heh, true," Azazel let out a chuckle while he grinned. "But I usually come out much prettier."

Michael half-smiled as his companion rolled her eyes.

"That's debatable."

"Governor Azazel."

Before Azazel could retort, a voice broke into the conversation from a few steps away. He turned to face the newcomer, his smile fading into something more patient and level.

"Yeah, kid?"

The Red Dragon Emperor stepped forward, flinching slightly. The remnants of his armor shimmered and dissipated, leaving him back in his academy uniform. While the danger had passed, his eyes were still alert.

"It's about Raynare," Issei said. "Back during the meeting… before everything went to hell, you were saying something about how Kokabiel had used her."

Azazel gave a slow nod. "That's right."

"Where is she right now? She didn't just… get a slap on the wrist or anything like that, did she?"

"Not in the least," Azazel answered evenly. "She's been held at a secure Grigori facility ever since that night, stripped of rank and merit."

"Oh… so she's alive…" the kid muttered.

"Sorry if that disappoints you. We're keeping her locked up because Kokabiel's influence wasn't surface-level. He'd been bypassing orders and manipulating operatives right under my nose for some time, and whether she knew it or not, Raynare was one of a multitude of such pawns. We're still sorting out how much she actually knew, and who else might've been subjected to Kokabiel's silver tongue."

Issei looked away for a moment, jaw tight.

"She's not being protected, if that's what you're worried about," Azazel assured. "We're pulling everything we can from her. And if she turns out to be completely spent? Well, then she may not be leaving her cage for a long time."

"Can I see her?" Issei asked, almost too quietly.

The Cadre blinked. "What would that do for you?"

"I don't know. Closure, maybe?" Issei admitted, slowly running a hand through his hair. "I-I just… Every time I think about that fucking night, I see her face. And every one of those times, she looked like she enjoyed watching me die. I guess I just… feel like i need to see something other than that face. Or maybe find out if she regrets it."

Azazel studied the boy for a long moment, the weight behind his gaze measured but not unkind.

"I'll consider it."

Issei didn't argue. He just nodded, in a way that made him look a lot older than he needed to be.

"That said, I also don't think this is something you need to waste your time dwelling on," Azazel supplied. "Like you said before: fighting over the past will keep you from enjoying the future. And you still have a lot of life left to enjoy, right?"

That seemed to help, if only a little. The boy stood a bit straighter and nodded.

"Yeah… thank you, sir."

"Lord Azazel," one of the Fallen guards approached and stood at attention. "Final preparations are complete. Slash/Dog has already departed, but we're ready to head out."

With that settled, Azazel regarded his fellow leaders again.

"Well, it's been fun, but I need to get going. Got more business to take care of back home."

"As do I. We'll be in touch," Sirzechs stated, to which Michael nodded.

The rest of the Grigori agents formed around Azazel as he activated the teleportation spell. With one last solemn look at the courtyard, the Governor-General and his subordinates vanished in a cold pulse of white-blue light.

Lifeless gray concrete, sterile white walls and the soft hums of magical circuitry greeted the Fallen Angels as the light died down. The chamber they appeared inside was large enough to hold dozens of people. The air here always carried a faint chill, as clean and artificial as the atmosphere of an underground reactor.

When entrenched deep within the East Siberian taiga, the unforgiving cold was the only constant. Even so, it harbored one of many homes away from home.

As expected, his Lieutenant Governor stood waiting just beyond the circle, arms behind his back. Sharp-eyed and dressed in a long black coat over his formal suit, Shemhazai inclined his head the moment Azazel came fully into view.

"Lord Azazel," he spoke evenly. "I suppose congratulations are in order. The summit was fruitful, yes?"

"There were a couple of hiccups here and there, but otherwise, things went according to plan."

"Mostly." He cast a glance to the tattered sleeve concealing the cauterized limb.

"Meh, I'll just get a new one," the Governor-General said, waving off the glance. "Besides, this was all just the dress rehearsal, anyway."

A gray eyebrow arched.

"I'll tell you about it later. Right now, I need a drink."

"Of course. I'll handle other matters for a bit," Shemhazai replied smoothly, taking the hint. He turned without further comment and strode off, his coat trailing as he disappeared into the corridor.

Azazel didn't stick around, either. He made for the west wing, wincing every now and then when his chest wound began to throb.

The two-minute walk through connecting low-lit passageways brought him to his office, and the door sealed behind him with a muted hiss as he entered.

The workshop was half-laboratory, half-lounge; dimly lit, with one wall lined with glowing panels of arcane monitors, and the adjacent side with dusty relics and weapon blueprints. His desk sat beneath a suspended model of a broken Gear core, and behind that stood shelves filled with numerous prototypes. Most of the floor was clean, but the corners told a story of too many interrupted projects.

Without a word, he moved straight to the small freezer under his desk, popped it open, and retrieved a pair of ice cubes. The glass he dropped them into was already washed and waiting like an old friend right on the desk. Taking the bottle of single-malt Scotch sitting beside it, he poured slowly, watching the amber liquid coat the ice pleasantly, then eased down into his chair.

The drink tickled his throat on the way down, then settled into a familiar, welcome tingle behind his ribs.

Good old-fashioned Scotch on the Rocks always helped him relax after a long day.

The treaty had been passed and signed, sure, but not without a good degree of difficulty from the onset. Chief among these being the orchestrated assault by three previously unaffiliated groups, launched in carefully timed waves to cause as much disruption as possible.

Following the treaty's ratification, Slash/Dog delivered their report of the encounter to the west. The boy they faced, wielding Annihilation Maker, had fought the team to a standstill until he escaped with the aid of a strange purple fog that stopped Kōki's Balance Breaker flat.

Dimension Lost; Azazel recognized it immediately, having witnessed it in the past. It held the honor of being one of the most dangerous Longinus-class Sacred Gears in existence, capable of carving out separate pockets of space entirely at the wielder's will.

That made three Longinus now confirmed in the Brigade's possession, when counting Vali as the newest addition.

Lavinia had gotten separated early in the chaos, delaying the Slash/Dog unit's coordination. She explained that she'd been diverted by a complex field of traps, in downtown of all places. A sealed maze, riddled with barriers and reactive obstacles that drained her time and forced a detour.

However, it was Serafall that shared the most surprising news of the night.

According to her sister, the shrine housing the teleportation gate's origin had been cleared within seconds of the Sitri heiress' departure from the academy. Every magician within had been slaughtered, and not mangled or scorched. They were killed cleanly and, based on the vivid description, more precisely than any assassination job Tobio had ever been assigned. No magical residue, no trail to follow. There wasn't even a struggle.

Sirzechs had said little in response, but his silence sharpened the way he looked at people. Michael, by contrast, asked direct questions. But neither had cast blame on anyone.

All leaders unanimously agreed: this assassin did not belong to the Grigori, Heaven, or the Devils. Rather, it was a fourth hand that had slit the enemy's throat.

Azazel leaned back, letting the chair creak beneath his weight as he took another sip.

Vali's betrayal had been the linchpin to selling the illusion, for both the Khaos Brigade and the alliance. If everyone believed Vali had turned, then it cemented the reality of the threat the factions were facing. It made the peace summit not just a prudent measure, but an urgent necessity.

More importantly, it gave Vali room to maneuver.

He'd fed the Brigade misinformation, nudged them where Azazel wanted them to go, and they moved exactly as the Cadre expected. What better time to strike than a supposedly delicate meeting of three great powers that had fought for millennia?

They played their hand and, in doing so, provided Heaven and the Underworld with a common enemy.

The plan had worked. Despite all the complications, it had come together in the end.

But…

Two pieces of the puzzle still gnawed at the edges of Azazel's thoughts.

While Kuroka wasn't necessarily Azazel's problem, she had made herself a problem for the Alliance by kidnapping Rias Gremory's Rook. Thanks to that, the Devils would now be devoting considerably more resources into tracking her down. This in turn meant that Heaven and the Grigori would also need to contribute in the interest of cooperation.

Then there was this rogue element.

Aside from Shemhazai and a handful in the loop, only one other person had known the plan to a degree. The traps that caught Lavinia bore his style, but the strike at the shrine didn't match; it was too precise and perfectly timed. Two separate entities had played a part in the night's events.

They'd known the moment Grayfia found the enemy's location and moved before anyone could react. If so, then this unknown assailant had to have been listening in on the entire meeting. If he hadn't sensed them, then no one else in the room could have, either.

The thought sent a chill down the Fallen Angel's spine.

A phantom twitch in his absentee arm alerted him to a more immediate matter. He took one more sip of the smoky beverage, then stood with his drink still in hand.

Just as well, he had little desire to think that he missed something.

Approaching his workbench, he set the glass at a corner and unlocked a number of drawers.

Out came blueprints and bundles of papers marked with ink and graphite. Pens were next, then calipers, and finally schematics to a multi-jointed frame that had once been an unfinished prototype. Like many others, he'd shelved this project a long time ago.

Now, it was a bit higher on his to-do list.

He activated the levitation matrix embedded in the bench. Magic circles flared quietly as instruments and tools lifted into the air, orbiting above the surface like satellites. The computer hummed to life, monitors blinking as notes from years past filtered back into view.

His purple eyes glanced over everything several times, his thoughts no longer adrift. They locked in, tight and methodical.

Metal composition, wire routing, power flow, joint tolerances, torque thresholds. Every detail slotted into place like clockwork, one component at a time.

The soft shuffle of paper, dull buzz of equipment and the occasional clink of alloy filled the office with a peaceful ambiance. It would be enough to keep the rest of his mind quiet… for tonight.

---

In his bedroom, Issei lay on his back in the dark, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The cicadas outside had gone quiet, leaving only the faint swishing of the room's overhead fan to fill his ears. He should've been asleep hours ago, but his mind kept churning, dragging him back to the summit.

The polite smiles and measured words couldn't hide the unease of being in the same room together. For Issei, that unease had a face: Azazel. The Fallen Angel Governor was more shifty than a man juggling three girlfriends with one phone, always looking like he was running a con.

Not that Issei would mind having three girlfriends himself.

But that thought brought back Raynare. If Azazel actually arranged a meeting and she were standing in front of him again, what would he even say? 'Why did you do it?' 'Was it worth it?' 'Did that night mean anything to you at all?' 'Was I just a joke?' None of the imagined answers brought him peace.

An emerald light briefly illuminated the room, preceding the sudden weight on his left arm.

"See something interesting up there?" The Boosted Gear's green gem glowed with each syllable.

"No… just thinking."

"Don't keep your head in the clouds too long; you'll start getting dizzy." The Welsh Dragon chuckled.

"Well, what've you been thinking all night, huh? You were really quiet until now."

"I've been breaking down your fight with Albion's host, putting the puzzle together. "

That got Issei's attention. He rolled onto his side, staring at the gauntlet.

"Figure anything out?"

"Put simply, there was a glitch in the system."

Issei blinked, his silence serving as Ddraig's cue to elaborate.

"As per the Evil Piece system, when a Pawn promotes, its piece converts into the new role. Multi-piece Pawns are no different; their pieces all merge into one. I think it's done this way to maintain fairness in Rating Games. Yours, however, didn't stay that way. When you achieved Balance Breaker, your Promoted Knight fractured back into eight pieces while retaining the Promotion. Essentially, you became eight Knights, instead of one."

The young Devil gaped. "…Say what?"

"Trust me, I was shocked, too. I've never seen anything like it. Even your armor was off-pattern; my hosts usually manifest a balanced Scale Mail the first time, but yours skewed entirely toward speed and its preservation. If I was a gambling dragon, I'd say the form changes depending on your state when you release it."

"So… if I had Promoted to Rook or Bishop, it would've been different?"

"Most likely, with all the benefits of that role."

"Kick ass." A grin tugged at his lips.

"Don't get cocky, hatchling," Ddraig snapped. "Even with the surprise, Albion's host outclassed you in every way. You barely scratched him, so don't mistake a single blow as anything more than luck. Did I not warn you of how far he'd go just to provoke you?"

Issei flinched. Magic had healed his body, but the memories were harder to erase. Vali had easily baited him, then practically toyed with him for the vast majority of the fight. Catching him once across the face barely counted.

"Yeah… but, wait, if I had all those Knight pieces, why didn't I feel that much faster?"

"Because part of that power is still inert," Ddraig explained. "Four of the pieces burned like torches when you split the Promotion. The others remained bound by your master's seals from your reincarnation. You were running at half capacity from the start."

"Ohhh… You can see that?"

"I'm bound to you until death, hatchling. Your thoughts and soul aren't exactly private to me."

"Right," Issei sighed. "So I guess I can't go full power with it, huh?"

"Not yet, no. Your body can only handle so much for now. But in time, when those pieces awaken, you might not even recognize your old self."

Issei's thoughts turned back to the fight. Divide had struck at least twice, but it hadn't ruined him as badly as Vali expected. The fractured pieces must have spread the damage, blunting the effect. Boost, meanwhile, continued to layer what strength was left, leveling out the loss while still powering up the Burst tags. The interplay was clumsy and accidental, but it had been just enough to keep him going.

Even so, if the Burst tags were still able to stack despite the drop in his strength, could the same principle work with Promotions? Could he chain them together; boost to Bishop, then Knight, then Queen, with each one building off the last? Or would the strain rip him apart before he got anywhere?

"This is really freakin' complicated…" Issei complained, on the verge of a headache.

"You'll get the hang of it in time."

"In time to save Koneko, maybe?" he wondered, half-rhetorically.

Silence lingered, enough to draw a sliver of worry from Issei, until Ddraig answered.

"Yes. If you train, if you master what you already possess and keep going, you will reach her. You're stronger than you realize, hatchling, and stronger still when you fight for what's yours. Don't doubt that."

This time, the dragon didn't leave him guessing. His voice rumbled without any flippancy, the words themselves planting something in Issei's chest. The Pawn clenched his armored fist, staring at the emerald glow.

"You're thinking as many steps ahead as possible on this, aren't you?" he muttered at the gauntlet.

"You can't always expect to win with brute force, especially against a punk that can halve that force every ten seconds. Sometimes, guile and timing have to carry you where strength can't.

"But we can explore all this later," Ddraig stated, his tone shifting again. "For the moment, you have a visitor."

The gauntlet suddenly vanished in another flash of light. Barely a moment later, a knock came from the door just before it creaked open.

Rias stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hall. Her shoulders sagged beneath the loose drape of the robe she wore, her expression carrying a weariness that didn't look right on her.

"Buchō?" Issei pushed himself up on one elbow. "I thought you were staying at Akeno's."

"Ise…"

He blinked at the rawness in her voice.

"Please call me Rias."

"…Rias, sorry."

The silence stretched, heavy and awkward. The normally unshakable heiress of House Gremory shifted slightly, fingers tightening around her robe as if debating whether to speak.

Then, softly, her words came to her. "Could I… stay here tonight?"

Issei's thoughts tripped over themselves. Stay here? With him? Despite having her own room? Panic and excitement collided, leaving him useless for words until he finally blurted out an answer.

"…Yeah. Of course."

Only too late did he remember something important. At his answer, she stepped inside and closed the door. In the same motion of turning back to face him, the robe fell off her shoulders and pooled on the floor by her feet.

Issei's eyes nearly bugged out at the view; he had forgotten that she always slept in the buff because she claimed pajamas made her skin itchy.

Wordlessly, though, she crossed the room and slipped under the covers beside Issei, not taking any stock in his reaction to her nudity. She leaned into him without a shred of hesitation, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The heat of her bare skin against him sent his every higher thought into free-fall. She was right there! Every inch of her luscious body was pressed into him, bringing his wildest dreams over the last several months to life! And he had no idea what to do!

For a few seconds, all he could do was lie frozen, wide-eyed while his heart tried to hammer its way out of him. Then he felt the tremor in her shoulders, and the soft, stifled sob.

Just like that, the fire building in his chest was extinguished.

Issei's eyes softened for a moment, then hardened just as quickly. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, shielding her in the only way he could right then. His gaze returned to the ceiling as his free hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist.

'Heaven, hell, or wherever in between… I'll find you. I swear, I'll save you, Koneko!'

---

The sun began to dip low beyond the windows of Connor's apartment, painting the walls in rich tones of amber and burnt gold. The air was heavy with the smell of old paper and the lingering tension that always followed when the last shots were fired.

Connor sat on the edge of the couch, casually dressed and fingers lightly tapping his leg as he waited for the two Heroic Spirits to return. He leaned over the spread map of Kuoh on the coffee table, inked arcs, circles and notes crowding the page from the night before. A large freshly-drawn X marked the eastern portion, including the academy, and several smaller ones dotted various districts in the center.

Beside the map sat two small piles of seeds. On Caster's advice, he had carefully gathered prime specimens of hinoki cypress and akamatsu red pine, which now lay in random geometric patterns.

His hand loosely hovered over the piles, shifting one or two seeds every so often while he studied the map. Prior to the Servants' latest task, he'd contemplated this next course of action several times. Each one of those times, though, a new calamity arose in Kuoh that forced him to postpone.

Now more than ever seemed like the best time to decide on a move.

The air shifted, the faint pressure of magical energy telling him who was coming before the sound of feet and staff ever clicked against the floorboards. He didn't look up until Caster and Assassin fully materialized, both standing opposite him at the table.

"You gonna keep staring at that 'til it talks to you?" Caster asked, eyes glinting. "'Cause we've got a lot more we can tell you that's useful."

"I sure hope so." Connor motioned for them to start.

Assassin went first, waving her hand in a negative gesture over a large section of town.

"The southern districts are a waste. The streets are too narrow and too crowded at most times, and there's always someone watching. Setting up anything here will only attract unwanted attention."

Connor nodded and observed Caster, who leaned in and rapped the north edge of the map in three spots with the butt of his staff.

"This area has a bit more promise. The ground's not all that great, though; too much dirt and not enough bedrock. But, since Kuoh's leyline runs right underneath them, you won't need an underground labyrinth to reach it. A little well would do just fine. Plus, they're not all that far from this place." His smirk turned wry. "Convenient, yeah?"

Connor almost smirked despite himself, and touched the central area.

"Anything in here?"

"It's too close to patrol routes in all directions," Assassin answered, tracing said routes with her finger and crisscrossing multiple times. "I've already seen Devil familiars circling there after dusk. They keep a more purposeful watch than it looks from the outside."

'Good for them.'

"On the other hand, if you decide distance won't be an issue, there's also this." Caster shifted the staff and tapped the western edge. "It's an abandoned piece of property on a tiny hill. The ground's pretty solid compared to the north side, there's very little foot traffic out that way, and it's easy to overlook thanks to the grove of trees all around it. Top it off, it sits close enough to the leyline to be worth your while."

"We'd need to set up a relay system before building anything else, but it's an option."

Connor nodded, then picked up the black marker laying beside the map. He gave long strokes in X's and O's to the designated areas, crossing out downtown and the southern half completely, with only four circles standing out as prospective locations.

"So, what'dya think?"

Marker still in hand, he leaned back, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the four circles like they were weights on an invisible scale. For every advantage to be seen, there existed a pitfall, beyond how his actions would be interpreted by other powers.

The Devils were busy with their own problems currently, and Heaven was still somewhat oblivious to his activities, even if all they knew about him was his existence. Either case wouldn't last much longer with the way things were going, however. The Grigori were the biggest issue. They weren't going to let him off the hook like they said they would, and Connor wasn't counting on Azazel keeping his end of the deal.

He eyed the western point a bit more, weighing the benefits of distance over accessibility. If the trees hid the area well enough already, then a network of relays could be built without much difficulty, and–

The quiet rattle of a turning doorknob interrupted his mental storm. He and the Servants looked to see the door open and Asia peek her head through and smile gently.

"I hope I'm not interrupting?" she ventured as she stepped inside. The light caught her hair in threads of soft gold, reflecting off her nightgown and catching the halo of warmth that always seemed to follow her.

"No, you're fine," Connor said, straightening. "I just need to think this over for a bit."

"Can I help?"

Caster tilted his head toward the window, amusement flickering across his red eyes.

"Sure, you can, Little Lady. I think the kid would appreciate a second opinion," the druid answered, then regarded Assassin. "Come on, while they're thinking it over, we can cover some more ground before nightfall. You check southwest, and I'll go northwest."

Assassin gave a short nod before silently vanishing into spirit form. Caster lingered just long enough for Connor to see the corner of his mouth tug knowingly, before he followed his fellow spirit's leave.

"You really don't mind me being here?" Asia stepped closer, folding her hands in front of her.

"No, no, you're fine, promise," he reassured, looking back to the map. "I'm just mapping out options. Trying to decide where we go next."

She glanced at the spread of circles and X's, her brow knitting softly.

"So… you're looking for a new house?"

"Yeah," he admitted plainly. "This place was fine when I first came to Kuoh, but after all that's happened, it's too exposed. The alliance took a hit on its first day, and if their enemies or others like them start looking into me, this'll become a worse hotspot than the academy. Better to find somewhere with a little more square footage."

Asia drew a small breath, worry flickering across her features as her fingers kneaded the hem of her skirt.

He turned back to her. "Is something wrong?"

"Connor... there's something I've been wanting to say for a while, but I didn't know how or when. And maybe I was afraid. Afraid you'd push me away."

Connor blinked and looked at her squarely.

'Wait, is she–'

"You've done so much for me," she said, looking up to him while her voice caught on the edge of a crack. "You gave me a place to live when I couldn't have found one on my own. You believed in me when I didn't know how to believe in myself. And when I felt like I couldn't belong somewhere, you made me feel like I already did."

She swallowed and squared her shoulders, as though mustering the resolve to cross a narrow bridge.

"So if… if you're going somewhere, I want to go with you. Not because I owe you, or because you gave me a home… but because… I want to be with you. If you'll let me stay."

Connor was momentarily speechless until he realized–

'She thought I was… aw, shit.'

"Asia," he said, voice low. "When I said 'we,' I was referring to us, as in 'you're coming, too.'"

Asia's breath caught, and her eyes held a small, vulnerable shimmer. She seemed like she wanted to believe him, but wasn't sure if she could allow herself to.

"I mean, there's no way that you're not. Caster and Assassin both think the world of you, and then there's me. I…" He turned to the right, shrugging in slight uncertainty. "I suppose that's on me for not saying it before. I got so used to you being around that I guess it almost became a given. More often than not, I find myself looking for you when I walk into a room, just to know that you're there. I listen for your voice without even realizing it, because it reaches parts of me that I've spent years tucking away."

He took a half step closer.

"I guess what I'm getting at is… it's not just you, Asia. I want you to stick around, too, no matter what I end up doing. Besides, that other Devil is still lurking around somewhere in the world. I don't want him coming back and getting you because I wasn't there to stop him."

Her eyes widened slightly – the relief that broke across her face was almost childlike in its purity. Then she dipped her gaze, her cheeks blooming pink.

'Aw, nice going, dumbass.'

"C-Connor? Could you... close your eyes? Just for a second?"

He blinked curiously once, but obeyed, lids falling shut.

He heard a soft shift of fabric.

Then, he felt the faintest pressure.

It was barely a brush, yet it struck like a bell, reverberating through every corner of his mind. The scent of wildflowers and fresh linen bathed in the sun's rays filled his senses, blocking out everything.

When the contact ended and he opened his eyes, she was staring at the floor, face flushed and hands twisting parts of her gown into a thousand knots.

"I… I couldn't think of what to say…" she confessed, barely above a whisper. "So I thought… maybe I could…"

She shrank, retreating inward. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—mmh!"

Before she could finish her apology, Connor tipped her face up and kissed her in return.

She gasped, startled at first, but quickly melted against him. Her arms came up to rest her hands against his chest, her fingers clutching at his shirt as if to anchor herself to him. His free hand came to her shoulder and held her firmly but without force.

The world slowed, then fell away like sakura petals in the wind until there was only her: her scent, her warmth, the softness of her lips and skin, all folding into his awareness. For a moment, she was all that mattered.

As they parted again, Asia let out a breathless laugh, cheeks still flushed but no longer red.

He took her right hand gently, intertwining his callusing digits with her own soft ones.

"You don't need to feel pressured to do anything. This is all new for me, too, and I didn't know how to put it until now." He paused, then met her gaze fully. "You make me want to be someone better than what the world demands of someone like me. You look at me like I already am, but… I'd like for the man in the mirror to someday agree."

Her mouth trembled, but she smiled through it, eyes glassy with joy.

"You are that person," she insisted. "You have been… and for a long time."

He grinned, but a flash of concern followed when he noticed her hand trembling.

"You alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm better now. I feel like I can finally breathe, or like my heart won't explode."

He brushed aside some hair from her face. "That took courage, especially when I haven't been all that forthcoming. Sorry about that."

"It's okay. You didn't need to say it," she whispered, blinking back tears.

They lingered for several more seconds, suspended in that fragile, perfect stillness. Then her expression faded, eyes now luminous and lips parting as she rose up onto her toes.

No more words were needed.

Connor leaned in, accepting her request.

They fell into each other instinctively, her arms moving to drape over his shoulders while his wrapped around her waist. This time, the kiss deepened. Her cheek brushed his collar as she pulled herself closer, her heartbeat thumping rhythmically against his chest. He held her securely in return, one hand coming up to gently trace soothing circles along her back while the other stayed at her hip.

Outside, the sun sank further, fading behind the trees and rooftops. And for once, the world and all of its problems could wait.

---

In the quiet of his study, a single flame hovered at the edge of his vision, wavering in the iron lantern fixed above the ornate wooden desk.

Shadows licked the walls of the chamber as he bent forward, scrutinizing the letter one final time. A thin, sardonic smile –utterly devoid of warmth– crossed his face.

He thought little of this Alliance. Treaties, oaths, gestures of goodwill; all empty things meant for mortals who needed constant reassurance. What sickened him most was that his adopted father had begun entertaining it so seriously, as though the squabbles of such lesser pantheons deserved any notice.

A month ago, the old man would have laughed and brushed it aside, preferring drink and mockery to talk of accords. Now, the halls were walked by a different figure altogether. His father still called for wine, still jested –still affected the posture of indolence– but the edge was gone. He teased less, even with his loyal attendant. The pitiful girl used to be a favorite target for his barbs. Now, he scarcely spared her more than a distracted quip, before turning back to some internal reverie.

The change was more unsettling than the God of Mischief cared to admit. He had seen it for himself in council, in feasts, and in the solitude of the All-Father's own study. The old man's one good eye no longer rested wholly on the world around him. He would drift, gaze clouding as if two spectacles unfolded before him: one before his throne, another behind his brow. There was no doubt the rest of their family had seen it as well, but they laughed and carried on. They seemed to enjoy this novel version of their ruler, closer to the tales sung by Midgardians who imagined a wise wanderer.

Fools, every one of them. They did not see what he did: a sickness of the spirit. It was as though the man awoke each day in a different mood, a different skin. Revulsion rose in his throat at the thought, more bitter than bile. A god could not change so capriciously, and yet…

Had the dealings of the Biblical rabble ensnared him so? Was his mind arrested by their nonsense, chained to petty questions of diplomacy and faith, when greater matters clamored for attention? It was unworthy of the All-Father, and worse, it left a void. One that would need to be filled – by force if quiet necessity was untenable.

He leaned back from the desk, allowing the lantern light to rake across him from a different angle. It traced the crisp line of his white robe with its subtle gray piping, and the long gray hair that draped behind him like a tail while twin bangs fell to his chest. Lifting his eyes to the light allowed predatory yellow to gleam with unfettered ambition.

'Soon enough.'

Rising from his seat, he raised his hand and conjured his personal magic circle. Seconds later, frost-scented air filled the room, runes budding along the diameter of the sigil in a slow bloom of white light.

The circle flowered open and released a figure from its center. Tall, composed, and formidable in her poise, the newly arrived woman's red and blue hair fell long to her back, its strands the braided hues of both dawn and dusk. White and black robed her from shoulder to ankle in a simple scheme that made her presence feel as inevitable as the onset of winter.

"Father?"

Her childlike curiosity combined with that mature undertone was always pleasing to him. She truly was his daughter, despite the lack of a mother.

"Hel, my dear," he greeted with mirth and presented the missive to his youngest. "I know that you're quite busy, but would you kindly make sure this reaches its destination?"

She stepped forward, hands pale and elegant, and received the parchment with a bow.

"Of course, Father."

"Return quickly when you do; we have much to discuss." His smile thinned again, a razor's edge creeping back into it.

The woman inclined her head once more while runes cinched tight around her like closing petals. A hushed wisp of cold rushed inward, and the circle snapped to emptiness with a soft chime.

He lingered for a beat, watching the last shards of light fade before a satisfied curve cut across his mouth. Of all his children, only the eldest son rivaled her in devotion. While she did not possess similar fangs, her fidelity was a blade he could trust to return to his hand.

Turning from his desk, he paced to the window and took in the view. The gold-gilded realm of the Æsir gods lay wide beneath the fading light of Sól, as Máni rose to take its place overhead. Valhalla's high spires pierced the sky like the weapons of the Einherjar within, and banners depicting the World Tree and the Raven snapped along as if caught in a passing storm's outflow. In the distance, the silhouettes of icy peaks, the homes of equally mountainous jötnar, cast glorious shadows across the land. Magic lanterns winked alive through the city in constellations he had come to memorize over thousands of years.

The beauty of this place had indeed grown on him, as Odin once promised that it would. But now, it was all under threat of defilement by the old man's foolish interests.

Perhaps there was some deep truth to the mortal saying: If you wish something to be done correctly, you must do it yourself.

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Notes:

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