Chapter 1: Prelude: The Hidden Truth
Chapter Text
[Cover Art by Daniel.isbad on Instagram]
GAMER OF THE MULTIVERSE: Truth and Lies
[Prelude: The Hidden Truth]
"I hereby vow, from now until the end of time itself, any magical being who is worth their salt shall sign these accords, and if any are to break them, they shall find themselves facing Winters Wrath." – Mab, to all magical life within Universe 1313777, upon the creation of the Unseelie Accords during The Golden Age of The Roman Empire, a mere decade after Jesus's Crucifixion.
When one pictured the home of the Almighty, throughout many interpretations of his likeness, humanity often pictured him living in a palace fit for someone of his reverence. After all, for the creator of all life, only a palace would suffice. Even in the most down to earth representation's, he was depicted in living in a house fit with the best furniture and the best appliances, and had at least three floors.
But, in reality, the truth was far different than what Humanity and life at large believed.
In a small slice of heaven, warded off to all mortal souls, there existed a simple wooden cabin. Dark oak wood was used in its creation, held together by double-braided nylon rope—perfect for the abundance of light that shone down upon the dominion of God.
There were no windows, rather there were simple openings that allowed for natural sunlight to peer in, and the roof was made out of simple thatch and glued together by a mud mixture. The floor was made of stone, and in the center of that stone floor, there was a pit where bits of charcoal sat. A simple cot was off to the left side with a fur cover and a wool quilt. A desk sat off toward the entrance, where stacks of paper were, alongside a quill and an ink well.
And there, sitting at that desk, was Yahweh. His beard had been braided, as was his hair—his Grand Daughter was to thank for that, of whom was a lovely young woman that he had traveled down to Hell to see; it had been well over 1,000 years since he had seen her, which for an Arch-Demon would've been an equivalent of a single mortal year.
He had bags under his eyes, and he was dressed in his usual attire—a white toga with sandals. Although, he also had on him a red cloak with golden trimmings. As for why he had been so tired, it had to do with the fact that, for starters, he was The Almighty. There was not a time when he wasn't not tired. Second of all, he had been stressed out, and it all came down to the current situation.
Everything had gone "tits up" as Gabriel had put it. He had recently been told the rules settled by The Seven Watchers, and, to be frank, The Greater Will and The Lesser Mind were not exactly thrilled. Especially The Law Of Conjoinment. It represented more than just a threat to the status quo, it represented a threat to the natural order of things.
But, as Zeus has put it when Yahweh had gone to find out why it was they had all voted in favour of such an otherwise blasphemous rule: "The Gods demanded vengeance for the fallen, and this petty game of keep away will no longer suffice."
Yahweh was The Creator. He had given The Multiverse life through the power given to him by The Greater Will and The Lesser Mind. He had the power to force that rule be revoked. But, when it was not only the other Gods, but also the other Outer Gods that demanded for this to happen, there was nothing that he could do.
So, he retreated to his cabin. Not because he was afraid of them, but so that he could unwind, and relax. To settle his wrath rather than to tap into it—he was not that God anymore. He was not the wrathful, vengeful God he had been when he first created The Multiverse. He had changed, and he would not allow the words of his juniors to force that nastiness out of him.
Over the course of many hundreds a millions of millennium, Yahweh had developed multiple pass times in order to quell the wrath that he had once used to strike fear into his worshippers. One of those pass times was writing. He had written only one book, and that book had been a collection of his thoughts made into a proper story. How things aught to be. Granted, it was during a dark time in his life when all he wanted was control in a time where there was none. That was how the original Bible was made.
Looking back on things, he regretted a lot of what he had written. Jesus, his second son, had pointed that out to him. How his book had allowed for some awful things; Slavery, misogyny, homophobia, blatant mistreatment of those deemed lesser, and the allowance of hubris to permeate within humanity at large.
Jesus had told Yahweh to send him down, that he could fix humanity. But Yahweh knew that they were too far gone for even that. So, with a heavy heart, The Flood had to happen. To wipe the slate clean and start anew. Lucifer, who had already rebelled, had chewed him out for allowing humanity to get that bad.
At the time, he dismissed Lucifer's words. After all, he had Fallen, and so there was no need to seek guidance in the words of someone who was, at the time, nothing to him. Of course, now, he saw that there was wisdom in Lucifer's, albeit crude, words.
Heedless of that, once The Flood wiped out all of humanity, save for Noah's family, Earth Zero was created. Humanity was given its second chance, and unlike the last time, they were not sinful—at least, not nearly to the extent that Earth Beta had been.
But, with the advent of Earth Zero, and with the expansion of the minds humanity, there soon came new religions, that spawned new Gods. Odin, Zeus, Buddha, Shiva and Vishnu, to name a few. There was an inter pantheon war, and Yahweh had found himself battling for control. Yahweh, with the backing of The Greater Will, had won out in the end, and had been set upon vanquishing the other Gods.
But then, Odin suggested working together. The other Gods fell in order, and not too long after that, everyone became united under one banner of cooperation. Of course, each afterlife stayed separate per the rules, and everything was peaceful for a while.
Then, He Who Shall Not Be Named committed the worst sin of all. A sin so unfathomably disgusting that Yahweh refused to so much as even think of it. For it, he was cast away.
And that might have been the worst mistake that Yahweh had made. For it was the reason why all of this was now happening. Why The Systems were created. Why The Multiverse had become as fractured as it was.
Sometimes, it became too much for Yahweh, so, here he was, to he sat in his cabin, a piece of paper in front of him and quill in hand, he stared at what it was he had wrote, and frowned. It was a record of what he had done in the last twenty-four hours, which had consisted of mostly lounging around and drinking wine. He needed to sleep, but he knew that if he did, something was going to happen. He couldn't afford to sleep.
While he might have been Immortal in every possible sense, he still needed to sleep. Still needed to eat. Still needed to drink. Just because he was God Almighty that did not make him different from all the others. He still needed to do various things to keep himself sane, otherwise, he'd slowly wither away. Perhaps not die, but be rendered into such a miserable state that he'd need one of his Archangels to nurse him back to health.
Not his son, though. Jesus, no, Demiurge—his son was going through a rebellious phase at the moment much like Lucifer but he knew unlike Lucifer it would eventually end—had been too busy trying to find his Uncle and Aunt. Not that Yahweh believed they were in danger, though it has been strange for either of them to have not said anything in over 500 years.
That being said, the last thing he needed was to get into that state again. After all, Uriel refused to let him forget that had happened. Every now and again, she'd jab at him, telling him about the things he said during that little stint.
Back then, even Lucifer had been worried about him….
A sudden knock at his cabin door wrenched him away from his paper. He looked over to the door, and with the flick of a wrist, the door opened. Standing in the doorway was someone who he hadn't seen in a while, though that was because he had been busy with a pilgrimage when they last spoke.
Much like the rest of the male appearing Archangels, the person in front of him was very broad, and had peak human physique. Much like his brothers, he had a pointed chin, though unlike his brothers, he had a sharp blonde beard that stopped just above his sternum. Dark blue eyes blazed with a mix of concern and worry, and his blonde hair had been carefully brushed in such a way that it appeared as if it had been groomed purposefully to make him appear as the most alluring man to anyone with eyes.
He was dressed in a red toga with a golden belt that kept it from falling, and in his right hand was The Scepter of Health—fitting, given who he was, and what he stood for. Out of all the Archangels, he was the one who he had feared to see the most, because that meant Yahweh was truly starting to let himself go.
"Father. Pray tell me, why do I get the disturbing notion that you are falling ill?" Archangel Raphael asked, his tone of soft, and laced with heaps of concern. "You… are not supposed to be sick."
Yahweh let out a dry, humourless laugh. "Yes. I did say that didn't I?" Yahweh replied, turning to face Raphael, his expression the same that it always was when he was faced with his creations. Stoic, but laid back. Like that of a grandfather. "But, perhaps this is a sign."
"A sign?" Raphael asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. A sign," Yahweh said, grunting as he stood up. "You know how the saying goes: Time waits for no one. Not even God." As he spoke, he walked toward Raphael, who stepped out of his way. Yahweh exited his cabin, and walked into the place where his cabin was located. The Garden of Eden.
The Garden was just as beautiful as the day he had closed it off to all mortal souls. The grass was a luscious green, the trees were all perfectly healthy, and the flowers that bloomed where the sweetest smelling in all the lands. As Yahweh looked over The Garden, he let out a relaxed sigh.
"Are you saying that… You are dying?"
"Indeed," Yahweh replied, looking over his shoulder as Raphael stepped out of the cabin. A look of terror washed over Raphael's face as Yahweh scoffed. "Oh, please. We all knew this would happen some day. The fact you believed that I could not die is pure nonsense."
"But you are The Creator! You are what to us is to you The Greater Will! The mere notion of you dying is…. It is…!"
"Inane? Preposterous? Unfathomable?" Yahweh listed off, before following it up with a half-hearted chuckle. "Yes… I suppose it is. But, what you must understand, Raphael, is that this was always destined to happen. But it won't be for a long time yet. Another 500 Billion Years and I will die, assuming that I don't get killed, or The Multiverse gets devoured by The Shadow…."
"Why do you make light of this!" Raphael demanded, his fury etched into his face. "You are dying!"
"Yes. I am," Yahweh replied, as cooly and as calmly as ever. Raphael stared at Yahweh, completely and totally in utter disbelief. Yahweh shook his head, lowering it before letting out a dejected sigh. "Raphael. You know as well as I do that if this gets out to anyone, there will be riots, yes?"
Immediately, Raphael's expression became stern, the weight of Yahweh's words resting heavy on his shoulders as Raphael nodded. "Yes. I understand, Father."
"Good. Now then, what have you to report? I know that's why you're here," Yahweh said as Raphael covered his mouth with a close left fist before clearing his throat.
"Y-Yes," he paused, before continuing, "Universe 1313777 has been re-opened… sort of." As Raphael said that, Yahweh's eyes widened in disbelief. The two stared at one another, before Yahweh let out an annoyed scoff.
"Well, don't just stand there! Tell me! What do you mean "Sort of?""
"R-Right!" Raphael muttered, his eyes darting from side to side as if gathering his thoughts, before continuing. "Universe 1313777 has been re-opened, but only to The Seventh Warrior, and those of whom she brings. And we both know with whom her allegiance's lie," Raphael said, his voice gaining a razor's edge. Something that confused Yahweh.
"Loki and Lucifer, Yes, what about it? My son and one of the Watchers. I do not see the problem here," Yahweh said as Raphael frowned.
"Father. You cannot be serious. You cannot seriously have forgotten that Lucifer is The Divine Traitor—The Unforgiveable One who Fell! And Loki…! Well, he's Loki. But still!" Raphael said, his expression hardening. "Just because you and him are on better terms, that does not mean everyone else in Heaven also believes that way."
"Oh, get over yourselves," Yahweh dismissed with a simple wave of his hand, causing Raphael to stagger backward in shock.
"But, father—"
"I said to get over it. It happened over a billion eons ago. Do you really think I care anymore?" Yahweh questioned rhetorically, as Raphael scowled.
"Father, he fell! He and his Demons have caused nothing but suffering! Do you truly expect me to believe that he does not have some kind of ulterior motive? He is going back for the others that have fallen! Do you not see what I am seeing!" Raphael shouted as Yahweh rolled his eyes.
"For starters, those Demons of his are as incompetent as they come, and besides, he doesn't order them around. His Realm is pure anarchy—to each their own. He does not control what his Demons do, just as I do not control what you Angels do. They are his subjects as you are mine. For as much as I do not like to acknowledge it, he is a God in his own right, minus the power to create something out of nothing," Yahweh said, walking back toward his cabin. As his back was turned to Raphael, he failed to notice his expression, and how it was slowly twisting into one of contempt.
"Secondly, and more importantly, you know as well as I that Lucifer does not get along with that particular set of Fallen Angels. Anduriel and Lucifer have been at odds with one another ever since The Fall. If you think they'd set aside that bickering of theirs to attack Heaven, then you clearly don't know Lucifer. He is not one to let go of grudges. If it took him this long to finally realize his mistakes all that time ago, what makes you think that he'll so easily forgive the greatest betrayal of his life?" Yahweh concluded as Raphael sneered.
"For all we know, that traitor could have sided with—"
"Raphael," Yahweh's voice gained a layer of power that forced Raphael to stay quiet. He froze in place, as Yahweh slowly turned his seemingly frail looking over to look over at him. As he did, a massive shadow outstretched out from Yahweh to overlook Raphael. The shadow and the man did not match. Yahweh remained skinny and frail, whereas his shadow took on the form of a massive, muscular, imposing figure with glowing golden eyes, which matched Yahweh's own.
"You will cease that thought at once. To think such a thing of your brother is tantamount of Treason against Heaven. Fallen or not, your brother is one of my most trusted confidants. To bad mouth him is to bad mouth me, and I do not think that you, of all my loyal Archangels, would bad mouth me."
"Y-Yes, father! I-I understand!"
The shadow retracted faster than it appeared, as the gleam in Yahweh's eyes vanished. "Good. Now leave me be."
Raphael vanished in a flash of golden light, and as he did, Yahweh let out a sigh. He never thought he'd see the day when his own children would start to turn on one another. Though, he supposed that Lucifer had been the first to start it. For them to believe him aligned with The Shadow and He Who Shall Not Be Named… It was too hard to endure.
As he returned to his cabin, and as he closed the door behind him, Yahweh looked to his cot, closed his eyes, before exhaling. Perhaps, he really did need that nap.
[-To Be Continued-]
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: Trash Candy – By: GRANRODEO-]
“I am a man of knowledge, first and foremost. Do not spit those vile words to me. Our deal is to be kept in perpetuity. For as long as my family remains, and for as long as my soul haunts this mortal coil, none shall be sanctioned Lordship, and any and all who shall seek it will bring upon themselves pure, uncontrollable Madness. What say you, oh disgraced one?” – Izuru Kamakura, on his death bed, speaking to Frenzy and creating a Vow with it that lasts to this day.
[Prologue: A Life of Damnation]
Junko was furious—which was to be expected, given what had happened. As the saying went: hindsight was 20/20. But who gave a shit about hindsight when what happened had already happened! It was such a stupid saying. All it did was piss Junko off further, which made her rage reach a fever pitch.
“RAHHH!” Junko roared, kicking over a trash can next to the stage that she stood upon. She was in one of the many Shinto temples that had been commandeered by The Flame in the Saitama Prefecture. A few dozen of her devout followers stared up at her, expressions blank as Junko seethed with rage.
Why was this happening now? Why was everything beginning to fall apart?! It didn’t make sense! None of this made sense! Everything had been going smoothly, and then BOOM! Everything starts to go up in smoke!
Of all the things—of all the people—why did Mukuro have to die?!
She shouldn’t care. The Voices told her to not care, but how couldn’t she? Muki was her sister! Muki was the only person Junko ever cared about!
Muki was…
Muki was her everything.
Muki was what made her who she was—was what her whole world revolved around. If it wasn’t for Muki, then she would’ve never survived past seven years old. If it wasn’t for Muki, then Junko would not be who she was—would not be where she was.
And now Muki was gone.
Through her eyes, Junko saw her killer. Saw that wretched whore’s face, along with her two beasts. She saw the smile, the eyes, the appearance, the satisfaction. She had seen it before when she was inspecting her through her little puppet. Jolyne Brooks. A wretched little swine. A pesky little bitch who seemed oh so dedicated to interrupting her master plan.
Her soul burned. She demanded vengeance! She demanded that her head be brought to her on a golden platter! Death! Death was the only punishment that should be given to the heretic!
Realistically speaking, she could storm over to that pathetic little school, Hope’s Peak, infiltrate that dumb class of hers, turn everyone Mad and force her to kill her friends and family before turning her Mad as well.
It would be so easy. She wouldn’t need to try. All it would take was a couple of days, if that, and all that would try to stop her would be melted away.
But… where was the fun in that? Besides, she already had a plan. The Three Fingers had willed her to do it, so she would stick by the guidance that was given to her. Even if she desperately wanted to do things her way.
Ultimately, Junko was not one for carrying out large, intricate plans. Hell, the only reason why she was so dedicated to this one was because, as previously mentioned, The Three Fingers had guided her down this path, telling her to burn the world. Or… were they telling her not to? Honestly, they were all so loud and shrieking and always so angry sounding that it was hard to tell what was saying what or what certain phrases meant.
Burn the world! No wait, don’t burn the world! Usurper this and usurper that. Frankly, she summoned it here, and she was clasped by The Three Fingers, so she didn’t care what it thought. Even if she had been feeling that burning in her chest growing hotter and hotter, and even if she had felt something clawing at the back of her skull, she was the one who allowed it to exist here. She was not a Usurper. She was The Lord of Frenzied Flame, claimed by communion with The Three Fingers. A literal God-Given Right! She had even gone as far as to burn her own eyes to prove her loyalty!
Of course, that meant that, traditionally speaking, she was blind. But that didn't mean she couldn't "see". She “saw” the world through sounds and distant light, or through the fake eyes that she had made for her. Granted, she didn’t need to see. She knew what was around her. She knew that in front of her was a trash can that had been kicked over.
She didn’t need her eyes.
Her eyes were what tied her to Order. To see is to have Order of ones movements. That was one of the first tenants of The Flame. Those who kept their eyes were to work to turn them into Shabriri Grapes, which would be fed to possible Maidens who could bring The Three Fingers without the need of The Tome of Frenzy. Those who didn't keep them were made to work for either becoming Bishop's, Harold's, or Lord's. Either that, or they would perish in the process.
Junko did not need her eyes. Besides, due to becoming The Lord of Frenzied Flame, she gained the ability to see through the eyes of other people who had been inflicted by Madness. In other words, given enough time, she could see everywhere.
Well… everywhere except Hope’s Peak Academy.
Oh, she had come so close with her little puppet. It had been so close to getting to that Hinata boy that the cult was so obsessed with, and turning him, which would guarantee her the ability to peer into the building. But then, that Brooks bitch nearly killed her drone. She had to dip out at the last second, only to retake control over it when she realized that it was still alive.
Fickle little twit. Should’ve just made up her mind.
Regardless, she had gotten her drone out of there, and had gone back to try and Frenzy-ify the kids that she had been keeping tabs on, only for them to start to avoid her at every chance they got. It was frustrating. That Brooks bitch had told them something, and it was working.
Well, not for long, anyway.
She had a plan. She had many plans, but most of them had been foiled before they could even be put into action.
Plan B would need to be skipped. Brooks was actively tearing down her hard work. First it was preventing her from corrupting those kids to spread Frenzy via children and their parents, then it was killing Muki, destroying the tome, and preventing the summoning of The Three Fingers.
Her guidance was taken from her. She needed The Three Fingers to continue the plan properly. But if they were stripped from her—stolen from her—then how was she going to continue? Three years of meticulous planning, all gone down the fucking drain!
Which…
Which was why she needed to do something.
Which was why she needed to enact Plan C!
Oh yes… Plan C.
Plan C was supposed to done after everything got thrown into chaos, but she supposed she could expedite the process. Sure, one of them would be gone. But four was better than five! Less people she’d have to worry about. It wasn’t as if she really cared about them. She already had one of them as her puppet, so frankly, all's well that ends well.
Heh… She was such a genius. The smartest being alive!
Junko, through the eyes of one of her cult members, saw herself smiling. Yes. That was perfect. The smile was large—twice the size of a normal smile, though it didn’t help that her skin was breaking at the edges of her lips. She’d need to cover that with some make-up…. Her whole body been developing those kinds of cracks recently.
The flame was burning brighter.
Each passing day her chest felt hotter and hotter. The maddening chanting in the back of her head kept growing louder and louder. Burn, burn, burn, burn was all it would say. Burn for our Lord, it’d say. Burn for The True Lord, it would say, but to that she would scoff.
She was The True Lord, was she not?
She was The True Mastermind, was she not?
Who else could there be?
No one was greater than her, she was Junko motherfucking Enoshima, Demi-God of The Frenzied Flame and it rightful Lord.
She had been given this role by The Three Fingers, so surely she was the correct choice, was she not?
“O’ Lord of Frenzied Flame,” a voice from the crowd called out to her, as Junko cast her attention over to that individual. It was one of the faceless mooks that she didn’t bother remembering the name of. “I do not wish to say this, but… perhaps you are yet too fee—”
Before the words came out of his mouth, Junko snapped her fingers and he burst into a brilliant pyre of Frenzied Flame. He cackled and laughed rather than cried and despaired over his death. These people… all they wanted was death. They wanted to die. To be “rid of The Mistake” which, if even a fraction of her original mind was around, which it was, she would know that “The Mistake” was in reference to Life.
This was a Death Cult, and she led it.
But The Flame—not the cult but the actual flame itself—was slowly burning her alive from the inside out. As if it was rejecting her. Which, didn’t make any sense, because she was The True Lord of Frenzied Flame!
WHY WOULD IT BE REJECTING HER?!
Well, that’s because it wasn’t….
It wasn’t…
It wasn’t rejecting anything.
A small, barely audible laugh crept its way out of her lips. Then that barely audible laugh turned into a cackle, and that cackle turned into a full blown laughing fit.
This was fine.
All of this was fine.
She was fine.
She was not being rejected.
She was not being rejected!
SHE WAS NOT BEING REJECTED!
Calm…
She was calm.
She needed to walk away.
She needed to clear her mind.
Junko stormed away from her congregation, and fled down a flight of stairs that only she had known about, tucked away behind the stage and blocked by dark orange curtains. She needed her eyes. They soothed her ailing mind. Allowed her to stifle the Madness for just a little while. To give her some time to think without being overwhelmed.
Upon reaching the basement, she scrambled to find the drawer where her false eyes were. They were blessed with some kind of enchantment that held back The Frenzy, given to her by The Bishop. She put the eyes in, popping them into place as she hissed. She blinked, and then, once again, she could see.
The flame within that had been clawing at her very soul died down, going from a blazing inferno to a small, contained campfire. The Madness had within had steadied, and her mind had become her own once again.
The voices vanished, giving her a sensation of clarity. Of momentary Order. She exhaled, calmness washing over her. Now, with just a moment of clarity, she had a chance to get the facts straight.
The tome was gone, a treasure of The Flame for centuries was destroyed. The Three Fingers could no longer be brought to this world, because The Rite of The Fingers was something that could not be memorized.
Mukuro was dead, and with her Plan B died as well, meaning that she would have to reject the invitation that Hope’s Peak sent. Without Mukuro to cover Junko’s tracks, and with Jolyne being in Class 78—the class she would be in—she would be compromised. She could effortlessly kill Jolyne, but that was not what she wanted. She wanted Jolyne on her side, willingly or not. Someone of that calibre on her side would allow her to burn any world that she wanted.
The Kuzuryu Clan was destroyed, with every member who had been infected dying, and any possible chance of bringing it back levelled along with the compound. The only person who was alive was the Kuzuryu Matriarch, and she was put into a mental institute due to what she had seen, meaning that she would not be able to access her.
All that was left was Plan C.
Plan C had to work.
Because if Plan C did not work, then the last three years would have been utterly pointless. It would’ve been so unbelievably, despairingly redundant that everything that she ever worked for would have amounted to nothing.
Which…. Well, that wouldn’t be awful, but that was just for her. She wanted the whole world to feel the crushing Despair that was an apocalyptic end. To see the final look on their faces would allow her to reach the climax to end all climax’s! She’d be in the eleventh heaven! Anything less would be disappointing.
But it now all hinged on a couple of kids—pre-puberty children. Although, those kids were rather powerful in their own right. Not because they had access to magic through The Frenzied Flame, but because they had the potential to harbor it.
The Actress was already on Jolyne’s side, and was being closely guarded. The others were not. Meaning they could be corrupted. All she had to do was get one of them corrupted, and the rest would come tumbling down like dominos right into her lap.
A surge of excitement raced through her as a small, fiendish smile spread across her face. “Ooohhh~! I cannot wait!” Junko exclaimed, as she looked over her shoulder at a cell that had been embedded into the stone wall behind her.
Within the cell was a burly looking man stripped down to his birthday suit. He was littered with scars and burns that would never recover—after all, they were inflicted by Frenzy-based weaponry, so it wasn’t just his body that was injured, but his very soul.
His arms were chained to the rear wall of his cell by his wrists—but they weren’t just any chains, no, no, no! They were a special kind of chain that she had invented. The more you struggled, the heavier they became, and the tighter they would constrict. They also passively drained strength, stamina, and mana, preventing the prisoner from escaping.
Junko wouldn’t lie to herself, the prisoner was very, very attractive. It was like someone had sculpted him out of the finest stone. Each part of him perfectly crafted to attract the most attention. Though, that was thanks to the fact that his very existence wasn’t natural. He was created to look that way.
But, Junko didn’t care. He was here to be her toy. For her to mess with. To keep her company until he was no longer fit for being used.
“What do you think, Jackie?”
“Piss off,” Jackson snarled, glaring at Junko, nothing but hatred and contempt burning in his eyes. “Leave those kids alone, ya fucking cunt. They don’t deserve this shit…”
Junko frowned, crossing her arms under her chest as she thrust herself at Jackson, who was kept safe from behind the bars of his cell. His eyes lingered on her for a second longer than usual, before looking away. “Ha! I caught you looking~!”
“Only because you put them in my face,” Jackson growled as Junko threw open the cell door, walked over to Jackson, and straddled him. Jackson’s face twisted into a sneer, as he tried to pull himself away, but due to this restraints, he couldn’t move. “Get off me.”
“Nah, I don’t think I will. Mama’s all pent up, and you can’t escape. Besides, don’t lie, you love this~!”
Jackson looked away. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes. Didn’t want to give her the pleasure that she sought for.
This had been his life for the last three weeks. Either he was going to be whipped with that Frenzy-stained whip, or Junko used him as her personal fuck stick. All of it was to try and break him. To turn him into a servant of sorts. But that wouldn’t work, and maybe Junko knew that, but as long as she was under the belief that one of these times, he’d “fall for her” then that would be enough.
The way how he saw it, it was either be raped and tortured multiple times, or die. He’d rather take the knock to his pride and dignity then be a corpse. After all, he still needed to make it to Jamol. He needed to reunite with his brother, and he wasn’t going to let this harlot be the reason why he was stopped from reaching his goal.
He just hoped that Makaria was looking for him.
Because if she wasn’t, and she had given up on him…. If she had left him to the vultures… Once he got out of this place and found evidence that Makaria had left him for dead….
He would make her regret it.
[XXXX]
It had been a long time since Loki had ever done anything that involved simple pleasures. He wasn't like that oaf of a brother of his, Thor, who just loved indulging himself with drinks, women, and food. But even he had to admit, human women sure did know how to have a good time.
He had gone down to one of the many worlds that he had jurisdiction over and decided to have some fun. And in one of those worlds, he was sat in a bed with three different women. All of them were beautiful for human standards, and all of them knew exactly what they were doing.
One of them was atop him—a long-haired blond bombshell of a woman with dark grey eyes. Another one was melting into the palm of his left hand as she desperately clung to him like someone in dire need of soothing, of which was a dark skinned beauty with short hair that didn’t go past her ears and chocolate brown eyes. And the other was kissing him, passionately. She was a red head with braids in her hair, and golden yellow eyes.
As for Loki himself, he hadn’t changed his appearance—he didn’t need to, mostly because he didn’t want to. He appeared as the same long black haired man with his bangs swept to the left, with the same peach coloured skin, and the same dark green eyes that would enchant and ensnare anyone who looked upon his form that was weaker of mind than himself.
He wasn’t overly bulky like his brother, and he wasn’t a massive hulking brute of a man like him either. He was lean and thin, but he had muscle. He wasn’t a slouch; he had appearances to keep up, after all. Just because he didn’t want to look like a gorilla to prove his physical power, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to at least be fit.
Across his upper body, he was covered in runic markings that, when translated into common tongue, read as “Freer than even the freest man”. On his arms and on his back were runic for “The Prankster Lord” and “The Jester King to End All Jesters.” Of course, most people couldn’t read the runes of his people, so they just assumed them to be fancy tattoos.
He wasn’t one for sex. Oh, he enjoyed it; any sane being would. But he didn’t indulge in it too often. Although, when he did, he made sure to have all of his bases covered. After all, who wouldn’t want a piece of him? He was Loki! He was a God. Any mortal would flock to him, just as these three had—granted, he paid them a hefty sum as was their job, but the point still stood. As a result of his generous sum of cash, they had been going at this on a constant rotation for at least an hour.
Honestly, he was only doing this because he had nothing else better to do right now. Besides, it wasn’t as if he got out often. Although, he did have to say, this world was ripe with beautiful women—then again, most worlds were, but this place seemed to have them in spades.
It was no wonder why Odin hung around here. There wasn’t just women aplenty, but the food here was to die for. He had never had Chicago Deep-dish pizza until he came here, but now he knew why the humans put it on such a high pedestal. It was the best pizza there was. Also, McAnally’s pub was do to die for—literally. He would kill anyone who dared try and destroy it, though he was sure Mac himself had that base covered.
When he broke off kissing the girl to his right, he felt a smile tug at his lips as he looked into her eyes. The only thing that appeared in them was passion. Even if it was false passion, he could also see the lust in her eyes. Mortals were so easy to wrap around his fingers. He had a Gods touch, so it only made sense as to why they were so enthralled by him. “By Odin’s beard, you three know how to please.” As he said that, the girl atop him brought herself closer, pressing her chest against his own as she gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
He could feel himself coming to another climax, and not even a second after he felt it approaching, he felt his whole body relax as the woman atop him flopped forward, resting against his body as she gasped for breath. He had his seed planted within each of them. Odin wouldn’t happy if he started allowing miniature Loki’s run about, but last he checked, he didn’t care what his father thought.
Loki knew that the blonde had gotten impregnated—he knew because he was a God, and the privileges that allowed for. He was alerted to the sensation the millisecond it happened. Same with the red-head and the darker-skinned woman. Whether or not they would survive giving birth to Demi-Gods was an entirely different question. None of them had magical essence so it was a low chance, but still a chance.
It wouldn’t be the first time that he had done this, though. He was pretty sure that, across the Multiverse, he had over seven dozen children. He had appeared in their lives at least once, and had given them sagely wisdom. He would do the same with these three if they lived past infancy.
That aside, this wasn’t the only reason why he had came here. Oh sure, the women were part of the reason, but the other reason was because he had to do some recon before he allowed his little soldier to snoop around. He wasn’t a fool to believe Lucifer at his word. Regardless of the lengths he had gone to redeem himself to get on a better standing with The Gods and The Almighty, he was still The Deceiver. Nothing would ever change that.
From what he had scoped out, none of this worlds major threats would be a challenge for Jolyne, save for The Titans and The Dragons, but they would soon be eclipsed by her in time. Mab wasn’t a threat simply because Mab didn’t do confrontation. While she could fight, her best role was as someone who played mind-games.
But, if it came down to it, given enough time, Jolyne could wipe the floor with her if Mab decided to do something stupid—which she wouldn’t. Mab rivalled Uriel in intelligence, of whom was The Archangel of Knowledge and Wisdom.
But even then, such beings could succumb to stupidity. Mab was no exception. Mab desired control, after all, and there would come a point where she wouldn’t be able to control Jolyne. And if Mab couldn’t have something or at least control something, no one could. It was only a matter of time, but when that time would come, Loki didn’t know.
All he knew was that when it did happen, it would be entertaining. At the end of the day, that was all this was to him. Entertainment. The sex, the food, the everyday pleasures—it was all entertainment. Nothing more, and nothing less.
Was it cruel to have that outlook on such things? Loki didn’t think so. He was Loki! He had lived like this for eons, and nothing would change his mindset. He was far too set in his ways to change, and everyone knew that.
There was a sudden knock at the door that halted all activity. A frown took up his visage as all the girls left his side and quickly threw robes on to cover themselves, all of which the motel he was stationed in had provided. He supposed it was time to finish, anyway. Loki sat up, covering his lower half with a blanket as he cleared his throat. “Come in!”
On command, the door swung open, and in walked a peach-skinned man with pointed black wolf ears and matching black hair atop his head. His eyes were a faded red, and he was dressed in a black dragon scale tunic, crafted out the scales of a mighty ice dragon which the man had hunted and killed in Helheim. Two sheaths were strapped on his back with hilts of swords poking out. A black tail with a white tip hung out of a hole in his off-white cargo pants, and he wore a pair of black lace-up combat boots.
He, unlike Loki, was built like a strongman, with muscles so large that they even rivaled Thor in appearance—which made sense, for one would need to be as strong as Thor, if not stronger, to rip holes into the fabric of space and time with their bare hands.
“Uncle… For what purpose are you naked?” The man asked as Loki chuckled.
“Just having a bit of fun, right, ladies?” Loki said as the dark-skinned woman giggled. The man rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he eyed Loki with a scowl.
“Grandfather specifically told you not to fuck with the mortals!”
“Is he here, Garm?” Loki questioned as Garm’s scowl deepened.
“No. But—”
“Then it doesn’t matter what he has to say, now does it?” Loki replied as smirking. Garm, his nephew, and son of Hel, his lovely older sister, had been made to go with him to Universe 1313777. Why? Because Odin did not trust him, and for good reason. Loki was, at the end of the day, The God of Mischief, Trickery, Deception, and Chaos. Anytime he showed up in any place, there was always a mess left in his wake.
Was it fair for him to be treated this way? Absolutely not! He knew why Odin did not trust him, but that still didn’t mean that he liked it. It was annoying, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Not because Odin was stronger than him—becoming A Watcher gave Loki a tremendous boost in power that allowed him to eclipse most Gods with the exception of his fellow Watchers and The Almighty—but because Loki respected Odin.
Odin, The All Father, Warmonger, etcetera, was one of the strongest Gods to live and breathe. But, the balance of power had been offset when Loki became A Watcher. It frustrated Odin, but there wasn’t much that could be done about it. Odin had wanted to replace Vishnu, but Michael was put there in his stead.
And so, Odin was left as a second rate God next to his son. Since then, neither of them saw eye to eye. Not that they did before this all broke out, but even more so now. Hence, Garm.
“That is not the point, Uncle,” Garm said, as he spared a glance at the women who were lounging around. “Can you three please leave? I am sure you will be compensated greatly.”
Without another word, the women left, brushing past Garm. He made sure each of the women didn’t try anything stupid, and upon confirming it by checking every surface where something could be hidden, Garm turned his attention back to Loki, as his scowl returned, closing the door behind him. “Odin will not be happy that you’re spreading your seed in his stomping grounds.”
“He can cry me a river for all I care, he should be glad that I'm humouring the rules that he gave me when I came here,” Loki said as he got out of the bed and walked over to the heap of clothes he had came to this world in. He was ordered to keep his appearance here to a minimum. Mab and Titania were already not exactly pleased with his appearance here, but there wasn’t much either could do about it.
As much as he wanted to dress in his usual attire, he didn’t want to upset the Fae Queens anymore than his presence already had. So, to make sure that he wasn't identified by any history nut or a wizard nose deep in Norse Mythology and Lore, he took to dress in standard human clothing. Said clothes consisted of a pair of dark green jeans and a purple long-sleeved shirt, overtop which he had a black waist coat with golden buttons. Attached to the his pants were two pouches which contained his two daggers, Floki and Ragnar; the only weapons he was allowed to bring so as to not upset The Balance or whatever. They were classified under The System as Godly Cosmic Tier Weapons, fitting for someone of his calibre, but weaker than his other two weapons.
Each dagger had their own ability that made them as powerful as they were. Floki, a black blade with a green hilt and golden pummel, could bend space to Loki’s will, forcing anyone at a distance to have that distance closed by Loki cutting a rift in space, making the universe correct for the error and dragging things forward in front of him. And Ragnar, a golden blade with a red hilt and a silver pummel, had the ability to nullify the toughness and durability of anything and anyone. The perfect dagger for assassinations. Any defence, magical or physical, would be ignored. It was also tipped with the venom of The World Serpent; a deadly poison that killed in seconds.
The best part about both Floki and Ragnar was that, if thrown, much like Mjolnir, it would return to its owner if beckoned. With Loki’s magic, he could levitate both around him acting as the perfect defence. Hel made them for him as a birthday gift when he was but a young boy. They were very useful weapons. He had won several wars with them, and in Ragnarök Tournament, he had used them to narrowly defeat his opponent, Shimo Hayha. Granted, said tournament was a failure the moment Brunhilde allowed the humans to use Volundr.
But, that was in the past, so it didn't matter. Frankly, he was glad that humanity was given another chance. Not that The Almighty would have allowed Zeus to kill off humanity. The Ragnarök Tournament was held in secret, and when The Almighty found out that it had happened, Zeus was tortured until the end of The Final Battle between previous batch of The Seven and The Fallen One.
"What gives you the right to ignore The All Father, Loki?" Garm argued as Loki glanced over his shoulder at him, a small smirk on his face.
“I am here on Watcher business, so that means I don't have to do a damn thing that he says. I can do what I want, however I want, whenever I want. That includes having sex with human women,” Loki said as Garm frowned.
“That is not the point, Loki, and you know that!” Garm spat as Loki rolled his eyes. He walked past Garm, motioning him to follow. Garm did, if only because of his orders. “Odin gave you specific orders as to what you are allowed and what you are not allowed to do here. He has laid claim to this world, so to spit upon his rules is an act of war. And you know how Odin gets when war is involved.”
“He can certainly try,” Loki replied casually, as he passed by several motel room doors, each marked with a number. The motel itself wasn’t that large, only being two floors high, and with only twenty rooms in total. Loki had purchased the one at the very end of the second floor—Room 220—and his stay was only for about a week, and that was starting to run its course.
“Loki, this is serious!” Garm growled as Loki glanced over his shoulder and frowned.
“I am aware. But Odin knows that he can’t do anything while I am here on Watcher business, the only thing I have to abide by are The Unseelie Accords. Which, last I checked, having sex with human women does not run afoul with those Accords. Besides, if Odin cared, he would’ve barged into the room the moment one of them touched by cock,” Loki replied as the two made their way down a flight of stairs.
As he walked, Garm following close behind, Loki waved at one of the women who had found themselves downstairs, flashing her a smile. She blushed and looked away, which earned her a chuckle from The God of Mischief.
Once they made it out of the building, Garm finally spoke up. “It’s the principal of things, Loki! You can’t just go around and impregnating women! Did you even think of how they’d support a kid?! Two of those women are recent college graduates, and the blonde won just turned 20!”
“You know this how?”
“I’m Garm! Hel’s watchdog! I read souls for a living, damnit! Those women are entirely unprepared!” Garm snarled as Loki snapped his fingers. When he did, Garm blinked, confusion taking up his visage. “What did you do?”
“I dumped over twenty million dollars into their bank accounts. As far as the banks are concerned, they each won separate lotteries across the state. What they do with that money is entirely up to them,” Loki said as Garm sighed.
“You refuse to take responsibility for anything you do…”
“I’m a God, Garm. I don’t need to do anything. But if it’ll keep you from bitching and complaining then so be it,” Loki replied as they continued walking down the streets of Chicago. He had to meet with A Specific Individual to let them know that Jolyne was going to be here. It was stupid, but he had to make sure that she would be unimpeded with her work here.
The meeting location was a secluded warehouse on the edge of the city, and he needed to find a place where he could reliably have Garm tear a gateway to the meeting spot. The people in charge of magic wanted to keep it as hush-hush as possible. Something to do with “too many people to keep track of as is” and “every department being stretched thin.”
At that point, you’d assume that every department would be expanded, but to each their own, he supposed.
Turning into a random alleyway out of sight from the locals, Loki gestured for Garm to do what he did best. Garm scowled, before relenting. He approached the spot where Loki had gestured to—a random space in the middle of the alleyway—before hooking both of his hands into what appeared to be nothingness.
Closing his eyes, Garm focused on the location that he had been told—an abandoned warehouse down by one of the ports nearing the edge of the city limits. He envisioned the location, keeping it held in his mind, before opening his eyes as they gained a haunting aquamarine hue. “ᛏᚱᛟᚾᛋᛈᛟᚱᛏ” Garm grunted out the old Nordic word for Transport, and as soon as he did, his fingers sunk into the fabric of space and time.
Howling winds began to screech out from the small crack in reality that formed, as Garm began to tear in open. Freezing cold winds rushed out, trying to force Garm back, but Garm had done this so many times that it meant nothing to him. The more he wrenched open, the more air began to rush out.
With a huff of air and an ounce of strength, Garm rendered a human sized hole within the fabric of space and time. On the other end, there was the warehouse, a two-way gateway birthed from sheer will power and strength.
“Let’s go, I can only keep it open for a short while. Mab and Titania will notice and will try and shut it down. Hurry!” Garm barked out as Loki slipped through the gate, and popped out on the other side. Garm followed quickly thereafter, as the gate slammed shut behind them. Garm looked tired, which typically never happened when he wrenched open a gate.
“What’s got you short of breath?”
“Something… was trying to stop me…” Garm huffed, before whimpering, and turning back into his dog form, which took the form of a German Shepard. In that form, he couldn’t speak, but that didn’t change what that represented. Whatever had tried to stop him had taken enough power for him to exhaust his humanoid form.
“Seems as if Mab or Titania found out quicker than he would’ve liked… They’ve gotten sharper, it seems…” Loki thought as Garm huffed, walking next to Loki as they approached the warehouse. Two stone statues resembling Temple Dogs sat out front of the warehouse, which meant that they were already here.
Upon approaching the front door, the two Temple Dog Statues stayed perfectly still. He wasn’t completely up to date on this world’s magical protection measures, but they were apparently advanced. Not that it would've mattered with someone like him, but that was irrelevant. Although, he did notice that their eyes seemed to follow his every movement. Watching him, intensely. It was cute.
And while he hadn’t noticed them before, he was made aware of the presence of two grey cloaked individuals standing next to the statues when one of them grabbed his wrist upon him trying to step past the statues. They took one good look at Loki, trying to avoid making eye contact, before speaking as their eyes narrowed. “Halt. What business do you have here,” the one on the left said, their voice feminine as their grasp on his wrist tightened—not that he particularly cared.
A small, jovial smile played at Loki’s lips as he effortlessly tugged his hand away from the female in the grey cloak, causing them to stagger back slightly. “Ah, you Wardens are always so cute using those voices of authority. But, I’ll have to ask you step aside. I have urgent business with The Merlin,” Loki stated quite plainly as the two Wardens looked at one another, before the one who spoke to Loki narrowed her eyes.
“How do you know of The Merlin?” The female Warden questioned as Loki frowned.
“I believe I scheduled a meeting with him,” Loki said, his tone gaining a hint of annoyance. The woman didn’t budge, suspicion written all over her face. He’d give her one thing, she was really good at being a bouncer. But that didn't stop her from testing his patience. “Step aside, mortal. I will not ask again. I am Loki, of the Aesir Gods. You should do well to know your place.”
With a flex of his power, an overwhelming force crashed into the two Wardens, both of whom went pale as a sheet. It didn’t take long for either of them to get the picture, and as soon as they did, Loki reeled in his power, prompting the two Wardens to step aside. One of them even went as far as to open the door for him, which was very polite of them. As soon as he stepped in, Garm following close behind, Loki was met with the individual whom he had been dying to meet as the door closed behind him.
The Merlin was a tall, white-haired man with his hair matching the same colour as snow. His beard was long, well groomed, and kept clean. His eyes were frigid and cold, calculating, and above all else, held a degree of annoyance trapped within—a busy man with a tight schedule. He was dressed in noble blue robes with a silver circlet around his head. In his right hand was a staff made out elegant pure white wood, free of any markings, though it no doubt worked perfectly as a catalyst for magic.
For a mortal man, he exuded an immense amount of magical power—enough to level whole cities if put to proper use. For a human without a system, and in a relatively normal world, that kind of power was very, very interesting. He could rule the mortal world with just a flick of his hand, but choose not to and instead protected it from the foul creatures that would have humanity dead. "Quite the interesting individual we have here. I wonder what you would think of him, Father? Or perhaps, you already have your opinions on him. He would make a wonderful warrior to serve the Aesir."
“You are late,” The Merlin said, fluent Latin spilling out of his dried, crusty looking lips. Loki scoffed, brushing off the comment with a dismissive wave.
“Well, I’m a rather busy man. I have things to do, people to see, and mischief to cause. But I doubt that matters, now does it?” Loki said, bowing to show respect, even if it was rather showman-like. “Loki. A pleasure to meet you. Would you rather me call you Merlin, or by your name?”
“Merlin. It is proper,” Merlin replied sharply, clear frustration coating his words. “If you are here to inform me of the information regarding your ward, I am already aware. The Winter Queen formed a meeting of all Accord heads, and I was told to not get in her way, even if she would use Black Magic or break The Laws. This meeting is a waste of both of our times.”
“Ah, yes, Mab did say that, didn't she,” Loki noted as he smirked. “But she doesn’t know everything, now does she?” In response, The Merlin raised an eyebrow. Loki took that as a sign to continue, so he did. “While I do wish to keep some information from you, I’ll tell you what you need to know. My ward, as Mab has no doubt told you, is a sorcerer from another world, and someone who works for Lucifer to collect contracts, yes?”
The Merlin grunted an affirmation, as Loki nodded. “Right. Well, she is also a part of a group dubbed The Seven. The Seven are a gathering of seven powerful warriors who’s job it is to protect The Multiverse—which is exactly as it sounds.”
The Merlin’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he hummed in thought. “The Multiverse… So, that confirms the existence of multiple timelines. How many versions of our reality exists?”
“Infinite,” Loki said, crossing his arms. “The changes could be as small as you not drinking a cup of tea this morning, to as drastic as you not being The Merlin but rather a Warden or a Custodian. Or, one where you simply do not exist.”
“I see…” The Merlin mused. “Is that all?”
“For now, yes. I would suggest you ensure that all of your Wardens are aware of her name and face so as to not cause any potential problems. She will be arriving here in a few short days. Arrange a meeting with her and the Warden of Chicago, in case you wish to keep tabs on her. Not that I believe it will matter in the long run,” Loki said as Merlin let out a drawn out sigh.
“Morgan will do that of his own accord. We are already aware that she will be within the city of Chicago. However, Morgan is already busy as is. Someone else would need to watch over her. The White Council will need to know everything we can about her. She is an outsider. A threat. Regardless of intentions or rules, someone must be around her. Do you have someone in mind you would want to watch over her?” The Merlin said as Loki smiled.
From what he had heard about that individual he was someone who would no doubt be able to push Jolyne toward the right path. After all, that individual was special. Beyond special. He was The Focal Point Character for a reason. The Almighty had a way of making things interesting, and as Garm sat down next to Loki, yawning, Loki spoke.
“How about… Dresden?”
[-To Be Continued-]
[-Ending Song: request – by: Krage-]
Notes:
For those who’ve read Dresden, and want to know when this takes place, the prologue takes place a few days before Grave Peril. See you all in the first chapter! Peace!
Chapter 3: Chapter 1: Shadows Grow Ever Longer
Notes:
Earlier than I said I was going to write this, but I figured I'd put this out since the last chapter was back in Early February, and I hate leaving my stories that don't have "Hiatus" labelled on them without an update for more than two months. Hence why this is here. Ya'll know the deal by now. Response to reviews/comments at the end of the chapter. Without further adieu, let's get into this!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – By: GRANRODEO]
"Magic is life energy. It's everywhere, and apparently, according to what I've been told, Wizards from Universe 1313777 can tap into it to draw "power" into themselves. Then, they channel it using their "willpower" to give it an extra oomph. I was on the receiving end of such an attack once. It was strong! Too bad for them it wasn't strong enough." Diary Entry 0289, Page 183, lines 4 through 8.
[Chapter 1: Shadows Grow Ever Longer]
Hope's Peak Academy; a private school meant for the worlds elite. Where talent is honed to its absolute perfection before unleashing those with talent back into society to watch them thrive. Every year, they excepted up to 16 new students from various different schools in order to hone their talents and to give them a chance out in the cold, heartless, brutal world that was Japanese society.
Unlike most schools, it towered over the location where it had been built, looming over even most skyscrapers. It cast a shadow upon central Tokyo, as if saying to the country that it would always live within it and would never be able to step out. With three buildings on campus—The Reserve Course Building, The Main Course Building, and the campus dormitory—it was one of the most heavily funded schools in all of Japan.
It had been around since the mid 1800s, which was when the school was founded. The reason for it existing was to bolster the hope of the country. To grant Japan a new purpose aside from being a warmongering country. It didn't help all that much, and Japan stuck to its roots until World War II concluded. It was at that point when the country as a whole began to focus on innovation, and that was when Hope's Peak Academy garnered the attention and reputation it now has.
For decades since, Hope's Peak Academy stood as a bastion to humanity. A beacon of all things hope and prosperous. Ironic, given that it was founded by someone who had sided with The Outer God of Chaos, Destruction, and Erasure.
Within the last several months, a lot of things had changed. For the first time in well over a decade, Hope's Peak Academy suffered several loses. During the middle point of the last semester before a new school year began a terrorist attack occurred, triggered by a group called DICE, resulting in well over two dozen students meeting their end; the most notable of which being Kuzuryu Natsumi.
Then, not even a little over a month later, a student at the Elementary Division went missing, only to reappear after her family was slaughtered. During that slaughter, Pekoyama Peko, The Ultimate Swordswoman had been found there, deceased. Finally, not even a week after Class 77 – A, of whom Pekoyama was classmates with, were able to grieve for her, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko was killed alongside his clan after a massive explosion erupted from within their compound, leveling it down to nothing but rubble.
And all of that took place in a little over a month.
Since that had occurred, two months had passed, and with that a new batch of students had been hand picked by Hope's Peak Academy to become Class 78. They, like every other first year student, were on the second floor of the Main Building's floor plan, in room 1 – A.
In that room, sixteen desks were arranged in four rows of four with all of the desks being filled save for one. The room itself was a standard classroom, one that most of if not every student across Japan had seen time and again. The people in the classroom, however… now that was were the differences began.
Hope's Peak Academy's Main Course was different than most schools in Japan. In over 99% of schools across Japan, those schools have a strict dress code that consisted entirely of whatever that school's uniform was. Only 1% of schools did not have that requirement. Hope's Peak Academy was one of those schools, at least, in terms of the main course.
While the main course did, in fact, have a dress code, the uniform was entirely optional. It was because of that rule that allowed those within Class 78 to completely ignore the school uniform and instead wear whatever it was that they wanted.
The teacher of Class 78, Koichi Kizakura, stood in front of classroom, looking down at a clipboard, his blue eyes focused on the clipboard as he stroked at the goatee on his chin. The man had ear-length blond hair and a pencil thin mustache of matching colour, with a pale skinned complexion. He was dressed in white tuxedo, underneath which he wore a green undershirt and a black vest top. Around his neck was a blueish gray tie, and to top it off he wore a white fedora with a black ribbon around the circumference of the hats bulb.
Kizakura had two jobs. To be a teacher for the first year students of the main course, and to be a talent scout for Hope's Peak. He had been working the job for well over a decade. While he knew he wasn't the best teacher—Class 77 – A could attest to that, what with him having to be replaced by Yukizome for being too drunk all the time—he was an amazing talent scout.
Looking over his list, Kizakura had to admit that the people in Class 78 were… interesting. Especially the last one on his list; a personal pick from The Headmaster for obvious reasons. Clearing his throat, Kizakura started to go down the list of people that he was going to be stuck with for at least a year.
"Naegi Makoto?"
"Here!" A boy with spiky, desaturated brown hair with a prominent ahoge responded, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness. He had faded hazel coloured eyes and a sun deprived pale skin complexion. He was also short, which reminded Kizakura of the late Fuyuhiko. If he were to guess, they were about the same height, if not slightly smaller. Naegi was dressed in an open-faced black jacket adorned with golden buttons, underneath which was a green hoodie that had red strings dangling the hoodie's collar, and on the left lapel of his jacket he was adorned with a pointed star pin overlaying a crescent moon. He also wore a pair of red Velcro sneakers.
If the word "Basic" was a human being, Naegi Makoto would be exactly who that person was. There was nothing special about him. Which begged the question why he was brought here in the first place. The simple answer was that he, quite literally, won a lottery. His name was chosen out of able-bodied student in Japan, and it showed with just how meek he looked. However, Kizakura could tell that there was something else in him. Something that, if pushed, would show itself. What that something was, Kizakura didn't know, but it would be interesting to find out for sure.
After all, Kizakura was a talent scout. He could sniff out talent from people just by observing them for a short amount of time. Kizakura had exactly that and more what with him being a teacher. After all, if he could deduce that Komaeda had the ability to Manipulate Luck just by being around him for a few seconds, then he could sniff out whatever it was that was hiding within Naegi.
But, for the time being, Naegi was nothing more than this batches Ultimate Lucky Student.
"Maizono Sayaka?"
"Present!" A girl with long, dark blue hair called out, having a somehow even paler complexion than even that of Naegi, with matching dark blue eyes, a professional look in her eyes that barely contained the amount of excitement she had underneath. The hair framing her face was cut shorter, staying around elbow length, and her bangs were swept to the right. She had two hairclips, one for keeping her bangs in place and another that was attached to a strand of her hair near her bangs. She was dressed in a white seifuku school uniform with a blue sailor collar, attached to which was a massive pink ribbon. She wore matching blue cuffs on her sleeves with two white lines striped across them, and a navy blue coloured skirt. She also wore a pair of thigh-high navy blue socks and a pair of dark brown Mary Jane slip-on shoes.
The Hypnotic Beauty, as decreed by one of her titles by her fans, Maizono Sayaka was considered the most beautiful idol in the whole industry. Ignoring her more… strange fans, those who collected her merchandise claimed that they did so for the sole purpose of wanting to see her succeed. She didn't have a single critic. Her music was, as said by her producer, a gift from The Gods upon mortal ears. Hence The Ultimate Pop Sensation.
However, that wasn't the only thing that attracted people to her, again, aside from the weirdos. There was an air of mystery about her, and it first begun when someone had followed her down an alleyway and was recording her the entire time. In the video that was recovered, she was caught spinning around and with a flick of her wrist a bolt of pink lightning appeared from her finger tip.
No one knew how it happened, and most people considered it to be special effects, but Kizakura was one of the few people who believed it was real. Especially after recent events concluded that magic was in fact a real thing.
"Kuwada Leon?"
"Sup!" A boy with orange dyed spiked hair with a ponytail-styled goatee replied, lazily waving his hand in the air to announce his presence. His pale blue eyes screamed "bored" which was something that Kizakura picked up on rather quickly. He was dressed in a white jacket with a popped collar, underneath which was another white shirt with a red grunge skull design. Along with that, he wore a pair of black jeans and white platform shoes with black soles. Around his neck was a padlock chain necklace, and he wore two overlapping studded belts around his waist alongside an assortment of rings across all of his fingers. Oh, and he also had several piercings, most of them being on his right ear and one of them being on the underside of his lower lip.
The Ultimate Baseball Star, Leon Kuwada, hated the sport. It was ironic, given that he was so good at it. When he was scouted, Kizakura had found him playing in a grunge band, and he wasn't half bad at it either. However, when he picked up a baseball bat and when he was asked to swing a home-run strike to see if he was still up to snuff, he was able to hit the ball a full five kilometers out in less than a second. He, much like most Ultimate Students, had superhuman capabilities, which was why they were considered "Ultimate".
"Asahina Aoi?"
"Here! Hi! Just call me Hina, please!" A girl with brown hair styled in curled upwards ponytail accessorized with a paperclip-style barrette said, showing off her easily excitable personality. She had a brown complexion with blue eyes, and for someone of her age she was not only very lean in build for being the Ultimate Swimming Pro, but she also had a rather curvaceous appearance—more so than even most models on the best of days, which was something that Kizakura had a hard time accepting. It also didn't help that she was dressed in a pair of dolphin shorts and, from what he could tell, they were Hope's Peak branded. Aside from that, she was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt with a red tracksuit jacket that had a popped collar. She also wore a pair of white knee-length socks with a red knee brace over her right knee.
Ditzy. Carefree. Also slightly dumb. That was the best way to describe Asahina. Ignoring her very… atypical appearance for someone her age… despite her lacklustre intelligence she was a very competitive individual, doubly so in her chosen sport. Professional Swimming was no joke. Even the best Olympic swimmers in history couldn't match a candle to Asahina. What officially gave her the title of Ultimate Swimming Pro was when a Multi-Billionaire had challenged Asahina to swim from one end of the worlds largest pool in Chile to the other in two hours, as that had been the recorded time by the previous Ultimate Swimming Pro.
Asahina not only beat that time, but eclipsed it. She crossed the 20 acre pool in, fittingly, 20 minutes. That's one minute per acre, and to travel an acre in a minute, in water, required someone to be moving at the bare minimum, 67.44 meters per second, which converted into kilometers would be 250 kilometers per hour. Bar none, she was the fastest person ever recorded doing something like that—a super human feat beyond reason. It was hardly a wonder why she was crowned The Ultimate Swimming Pro.
"Togami Byakuya?"
"Present." A bored, semi-emotionless sounding voice responded as Kizakura looked up from his clipboard. Togami had a pale complexion with lapis coloured eyes and, strangely enough for a guy, long eyelashes. He had chin length blonde, canary yellow hair that stopped just past his neck with his bangs swept to the right. He was dressed in a black suit jacket over a white shirt and a lapis blue crossover tie. Accompanying that, he also wore a pair of black dress pants held up by an equally black belt and a pair of black dress shoes. In his suit breast pocket he had a silver pocket watch with a silver chain hooked to just above the pocket.
The best way that Kizakura could describe Togami would be to deem him a chronic asshole. Even when they first met, he carried the attitude of someone who believed the whole world belonged to him. Not only was it frustrating but it was also borderline insulting. He had never wanted to punch a kid in the face more than Togami.
"Celestia Ludenburg?"
"Hello. Please refer to me as Celeste." An extremely pale skinned, red eyes girl replied with probably the most outrageous hairdo that he had seen so far. She had pitch black hair with massive pigtails that took the appearance of a pair drills, although, upon squinting, Kizakura could tell right away that they were fake. It wasn't the only thing fake about her. Her name was also fake, as when he had recruited her to Hope's Peak, her real name was Yasuhiro Taeko. He wasn't one to judge about why she had wanted to go by a false name, but it was something he was going to eventually mention to her.
"Celeste" was dressed in a gothic lolita-style outfit which consisted of a black jacket with white laced cuffs at the ends of the sleeves and white lacing that kept the sleeves together. The jacket was fastened by a white ribbon around her neck, and underneath which was a red tie that had a butterfly pattern layered atop various black skull motifs. Around her waist was a many tiered skirt with a white lace around the edges, making her appear like a gothic princess of sorts. For legwear, she wore a pair of simple black stockings with white lacey cuffs and on her feet were a pair of dark red Mary Jane shoes that had platform heels on the back. Around her left index finger was a gunmetal plated ring layered in overlapping sections.
Out of everyone in the class, she was the one who was trying way too hard to look special—as if overcompensating for something. Something that he would have to note down if he wanted to properly guide her throughout the year. There wasn't much else for Kizakura to say, aside from the fact that he loathed liars, and if it wasn't for student teacher confidentiality, he would've said her real name just to spite her. But, alas, he had to maintain that bond, because otherwise, he'd get in huge trouble.
"Yamada Hifumi?"
"I Am Here!" A larger than life looking person boomed from the second row, making Celeste, who had been sitting next to him, lean away from him. And Kizakura meant it when he categorized him as larger than life. Yamada was huge, both in width and height. He was easily one of the tallest people in the class, save for the guy with the massive pompadour and the She-Hulk next to him. To be frank, he looked like a hamster turned into a human. He had massive hands, and comically thin legs, and he was dressed in a white button-down shirt, an orange tie with a vertical double-headed blue arrow design, a pair of dark gray trousers, and grey trainers. Over his shirt, he wore an unbuttoned light grey cardigan and next to his desk was a massive brown backpack that, if Kizakura had to guess, contained all of his things.
Yamada was… a very interesting individual to say the least. The Ultimate Doujinshi Creator, or his preferred title, The Ultimate Fanfic Creator. The best way to describe him was a massive, perverted, sleazy, cornball. Despite that, there was a certain charm to him that made him not as annoying as one would think. When he got passionate about something he wouldn't shut up about it. He was intense, and he had sold well over 50,000 copies in total of his work, and that in less than a year. Most Doujinshi creators could only sell 1,000 copies a year. But there was something about Yamada's works that drew people in. Hence why he was as talented as he was.
"Ogami Sakura?"
"Here." A rough sounding, masculine voice rumbled from the individual next to the right of Yamada. Like Yamada, she was huge, but for different reasons. Kizakura was fairly certain that tree trunks were smaller than her arms and legs—that was how muscular she was. If Yujiro Hanma was a woman and in real life, that would be who Ogami Sakura was. She had reddened-dark skin, very pale blue eyes, and a scar crossing from the upper right side of her face down to the left, and a massive claw-like scar on her right shoulder, and she had extremely long white, vine-like hair that reached down past her back. She was dressed in a traditional white seifuku and a blue sailor collar much like Maizono. She even wore a similar short blue skirt, although she wore a more traditional red tie instead of the massive pink bow. Ogami also seemed to have ripped off the sleeves of her uniform, which, to be fair to her, she would have to given how massive her arms were. Tight bandage wraps were around her forearms and lower legs, and she wore a pair of brown sandals rather than shoes.
Ogami was… Intimidating was the best way to put it. There wasn't much else to say. Having a 50 – 0 record was something that rarely if ever happened. She was given the nickname The Ogre because of just how terrifying she was to come up against in the ring. She wasn't particularly fast, but if she landed a hit on you, it was like being slugged by three prime Mike Tysons. Hell, she recently fought the man, and it was damn near an even fight until she hit him with a haymaker that was, according to those who measured speeds for a living, thrown at well over 190 miles per hour. It nearly took the man's head clean off, resulting in Mike getting a broken neck and jaw.
"Hagakure Yasuhiro?"
"Wassup?" Hagakure Yasuhiro, one of the very few adults to have ever roamed the halls as a student of Hope's Peak. He had light brown skin with stubble on his chin and dark brown eyes. His dark brown hair were styled in massive braids that extended into the air and were bent backwards. His outfit was triple layered, with the top one was a green gakuran jacket with golden buttons, the second layer was an open button down white shirt, and the final layer was a small yellow shirt. Around his stomach was a brown haramaki and around his waist was a yellow rope which he used as a belt to keep up his baggy black pants. Like Ogami, he wore a pair of sandals rather than shoes.
To be frank, Kizakura wasn't exactly a fan of Hagakure. The man was far too lax, however, credit where credit was due, the day prior, Kizakura did get a fortune from him which said that he would win big in the lottery local to Saitama, and Kizakura did in fact win the jackpot of 50,000,000 Yen so it wasn't as if Hagakure's talent was fake. It was just that he was an adult in a classroom full of teens. Not exactly the best look for the school, all things considered.
"Fukawa Toko?"
"P-Present…" A very timid sounding girl with long, twin-braided dark purple hair and a pale complexion spoke up. She was extremely thin-looking to the point where it almost looked worrisome, with large wire-rim round framed glasses, behind which were faded grey eyes that looked clouded by some kind of borderline panic. She was dressed in a purple seifuku style uniform with a far longer skirt than normal stretching down past her knees accompanied by a white sailor collar with red lines and an orange tie. She also had a small mole on the left side of her chin.
Kizakura was made aware of her Dissociative Identity Disorder and her other half. While Fukawa was The Ultimate Writing Prodigy, her other half, who was only known as "Jack", the other half was the infamous Serial Killer known as Genocide Jack. It was a risky move by Jin to allow her access to the school, but her writing talent couldn't be overlooked. And, in a twisted sort of way, neither could Jack's talent for murder. So, since Fukawa was given a talent, so was Jack, which was the Ultimate Murderous Fiend.
"Owada Mondo?"
"Whatever…" A tall, muscular, slightly tan skinned boy with an orange punch perm and a massive 1960s-styled pompadour. He also had a slight bit of make-up on around his eyes, that being black eyeliner which highlighted his purple eyes, of which contained a toughness that would probably have even make Kyosuke wince, even if only slightly. He was dressed in a black, high collared tokko-fuku with various demonic dragon iconography dotted throughout the jacket. Underneath the jacket he wore a white A-shirt, alongside a pair of baggy black pants held up by a belt with a silver belt buckle that was shaped as the face of a Komainu, with a pair of pair of loafers.
From what Kizakura knew about Owada, he was the de-facto leader of every biker gang in all of Japan. Every punk and gangster respected him. He pulled just as much weight as the now extinct Kuzuryu Clan, and with the power vacuum left behind by their destruction, Owada, along with the other Yakuza families, were able to carve up their territory fairly evenly. Now that he looked at him, the guy looked tired. Probably from staying up all night to ensure Crazy Diamonds security from the other clans. From what he was aware, Crazy Diamonds were protected by The Kuzuryu Clan, so he probably needed to make a new protection deal with the Omi Alliance.
"Fujisaki Chihiro?"
"H-Here…!" Had Kizakura not been aware of Chihiro's issues regarding self-esteem, Kizakura would've assumed that Chihiro was a girl. The truth was that he was a guy, although, that secret was safe with him. Chihiro was very small—around about four foot eleven—with a very thin frame and a doll-like appearance with multi-layered light brown hair and hazel coloured eyes. Chihiro was dressed in a female winter school uniform, which consisted a long-sleeved dark green jacket, underneath which was a white shirt with a large Peter Pan collar secured by a thin black ribbon. Peeking out from underneath the jacket, one could make out a pair of suspenders that kept up the massive box-pleated, mid-thigh length brown skirt. Alongside this, Chihiro wore a pair of black below the knee black socks and a pair of ribboned light brown Mary Janes.
He didn't have much of an opinion on Fujisaki. His only real concern was the boy's meekness. If he wanted to survive in a cutthroat school like Hope's Peak he'd need to develop some kind of edge. Although, that probably wouldn't be hard for him to do. Also, he was warned by his father not to annoy him. With Chihiro being The Ultimate Programmer, he could probably hack his phone and put a bunch of crap on there to just spite him.
"Ishimaru Kiyotaka?"
"Present! Good morning, Kizakura-sensei!" A boy with short, spiky black hair with extremely long, upcurved eyebrows that almost formed into a unibrow. His eyes were crimson red, and he looked to have a muddy, clay-like complexion. He was dressed in a white, military-style male uniform with red and yellow epaulettes and various golden buttons lining the center of the jacket and his collar. Around his right arm was a red, black, and white armband with the kanji for the word "fuki" which when translated into English meant "Public Morals". He also wore a pair of matching white pants and knee-high lace-up black boots.
"Hehe, morning, Ishimaru-kun…." Kizakura replied, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face. "Well, he's not the Ultimate Moral Compass for no reason…" Kizakura thought, stroking his goatee to bring himself back to a less shaken state of being before continuing attendance. "A-hem… Kirigiri Kyoko?"
"Present." A quiet, yet relaxed voice belonging to the girl in question responded as Kizakura frowned. Kyoko, much like her father, had a pale complexion. Unlike her father, she had purple eyes and lavender hair, of which she keeps down and flowing with the exception of a single braid on the left side which was kept in place by a black ribbon. She was dressed in a dark purple, popped collared, unbuttoned blazer jacket with six brown buttons on either side of jacket. Underneath the jacket she wore a zip-up long sleeve white blouse coupled with a brown tie with a bird-like symbol on it. Alongside the rest of her outfit, she was dressed in a black short skirt with heeled knee-high black boots. Poking out from the tops of her boots, she wore a pair of knee-high purple socks underneath, and on both hands she wears a pair of custom-made black studded gloves.
Kizakura had mixed feelings about Kyoko. On the one hand, she was his best friends daughter. On the other hand, she was a completely brainwashed, emotionless, borderline sociopathic, grudge holding brat who refused to acknowledge reality. But that was just his opinion of her. She was one of the best detectives, flat out, period. Beyond a reasonable doubt, if she was put on a case it would be solved in less than a week.
Her intelligence and awareness was beyond that of most people. Jin had always believed that had it not been for his bastard of a father, she would've become a scientist. It was why when Kyoko was away solving a case about some sort of conspiracy, Jin had his father assassinated, if not for because of the neglect and abuse he suffered by the old man when he was growing up, then because he had kidnapped Kyoko when she was barely even a toddler.
However, Kyoko had put two and two together rather quickly, and as a result, hated Jin for what he did. Kizakura was there when Kyoko had spat those vile words at Jin, and while Jin believed he could still get through to her, Kizakura knew full well that wasn't going to happen. Jin's father had fully turned her against him. It would take the world coming to an end before Kyoko would believe that Jin wasn't the monster that she believed him to be.
The only reason why Kizakura hadn't bitched her out was because Jin didn't want her to hate him more than she already did. According to Jin, she was already peeved that she was in the same building as him, surrounded by "his lackies" the last thing she needed was to feel even more justification for that belief.
So, Kizakura kept his opinion of the newly dubbed Ultimate Detective on the downlow, and finished the attendance sheet.
"Brooks Jolyne?"
"Sup," A girl with chin length, two-toned hair; black on the left side and pink on the right, replied with a bored expression on her face. She, much like "Celeste" had sickly pale skin. Unlike her, however, she had emerald green eyes with slit pupils with a yellowish shine to them. She wore black lipstick, and her claw-like nails were also painted black. She was dressed in a flowing black dress that covered down to her ankles. The dress had an elongated collar that exposed a decent amount of cleavage, and overtop that was a spiderweb mesh. The sleeves, the edge of the hip section and end of the dress ended in a frilled red cuffs. Diamond-shaped splits were at the hip section of the dress, and as for footwear, she had a pair of black high heels. The back on her dress was exposed to the open air.
And there she was. The very person who threw Kizakura's perception of reality out the window. If he was asked three months ago if he believed magic existed, he'd laugh at the person who asked the question and call them dumb for even so much as thinking that a question like that was relevant at all, before following it up by saying that he believed that magic was nothing but a fantastical, fictional thing. But after witnessing what he witnessed when that terrorist group attacked The Reserve Course building… now he had no choice but to believe it.
Beams of light, barriers of gold, inky-black tendrils and yellow flaming humanoid beasts. How else did someone explain what he saw on a security camera? Sure, you could claim that the footage had been doctored, but then in that case, why would it be doctored? For what purpose would it need to be?
That was why when Brooks was first brought into the class with everyone else on the first day, he asked her to prove to them that magic was in fact, real. He remembered it like it had been yesterday. She had walked up to the front of the class, took a pair of scissors, and stabbed it through her hand, before manipulating the blood and making it take shape into heart, before popping it like a balloon and reabsorbing the blood back into her hand.
He distinctly remembered that Fukawa had fainted and needed to be taken out of the room, and most of, if not everyone, was both fascinated and disturbed by the display of violence. But all the same, magic had been proven to be real and Kizakura could no longer deny it. In that first day alone, she showed her mastery over it, and it was horrifying, primarily because she used blood as a medium.
She could drain whole forests worth of animals, and use their blood to form various melee and ranged weapons. But that wasn't where she stopped. She was able to make a pocket dimension out of literal nothingness, those same inky black tendrils from before, she could manifest a transforming axe, halberd and bardiche, a sword with the power of a nuclear bomb, and if that wasn't insane enough, she could store damn near the entire school storage room in something that she dubbed her "Inventory".
Over the course of two months, Brooks had become more than just your regular Ultimate Student. She became a celebrity on campus grounds. People would ask her for assistance in just about everything, and Kizakura could tell it was wearing her down. It was why everyday after attendance she seemingly vanished, going off elsewhere and doing other things.
Kizakura was worried, but he wasn't going to punish her for running off. It wasn't like he could anyway. Though, then again, how could someone like him even so much as come near someone deemed The Ultimate Magical Girl without having their insides ruptured. Because, that was another thing that made her strange.
She was freakishly strong—even stronger than someone like Ogami, and wasn't that terrifying? Not only did she have magic, but physically speaking, she could overpower the strongest human alive in Ogami Sakura.
The more that Kizakura thought about it, Brooks sounded more and more like those Mary Sue trope characters from fictional fantasy stories. Great at damn near everything, and with zero apparent weaknesses….
Regardless, now that attendance was done… "Alright class! Like I said yesterday, today's a free day. Go do whatever. Hone your talent, leave campus, do whatever you deem as important. I'll have another activity planned for tomorrow. Maybe. I won't promise nothing."
Without another prompt, Jolyne got up from her desk and began to make her way out of the classroom because right now, she had far more important things to be doing than sitting around and doing nothing. Over the last two months, Jolyne had been preparing. Preparing for what? Preparing for the job that Lucifer had for her in the two month time frame he gave her.
It was a daunting thing, really. Being given a job by THE Lucifer Morningstar put a lot of pressure on her. Moreso than normal. Monotoriganta, or Mono for short, her System—the very thing that had given her the power that she had, i.e. the power of being able to level up as if the world was a video game—had already been harassing her into getting stronger since the moment she arrived.
Every waking moment that wasn't spent doing things that she needed to do in order to blend in with society, or as much as she could given her circumstances, or taking care of her newly acquired little sister in Utsugi Kotoko, it—or he—constantly hounded her to get stronger. When she first woke up here in a body that she had thought she had created that had instead belonged to someone else, she didn't care for getting strong. She simply wanted to live a normal life.
However, a chance encounter with another person with similar powers to her own that was dubbed a "Blood Hunter" had woken her up to the idea that she needed to get stronger. She had nearly died, and that was the kind of thing that stuck with someone. It was a learning experience that she needed, and it was the right kick in the ass that caused things to happen.
And oh boy, did things certainly happen….
But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was that she left the building. She had her eyes on a Dungeon that was available to her. It was something called a Boss Dungeon, and it was recommended for those level 80 or higher, and right now, she was level 95. Said Dungeon was located in Sendai, and she wanted to get there before someone else got any bright ideas.
Which was another thing. Over the course of the last two months, she had increased her level from 85 to 95, meaning she was getting pretty damn close to level 100 and her next Mastery Dungeon. That was also something that she was eager to do. The last Mastery Dungeon that she had done made her go up against A Demi-God, of which she had eight more to go.
She already had one Great Rune resting within her body. If she collected them all, then she would receive a tremendous boost in power. However, that would take a while—at least until she was level 450 and that was a long ways away.
As she walked down the hallway connecting her classroom to the rest of the building, just as she was about to walk down the stairs, Jolyne stopped when she saw someone approaching her out of the corner of her eye on the flight of stairs next to her, which led to the floor above the one she was currently on.
The individual in question had short, semi-spiked brown hair with a prominent ahoge atop of his head. If this had been three months ago, then Jolyne would've described him as skinny as a stick, but over that amount of time, that had changed. Gone were the twig-sized arms and replacing them were decently sized arms with the most growth being in his biceps. The same with his legs. They now had more meat on their bones, and his waist and chest had expanded as well. His shoulders were more broad, and his neck was slightly thicker than before.
He was dressed in a white T-Shirt, and noticeably, he had bandage wrap around his wrists and down to his fingers on both hands—not because he had hurt them but for a more stylistic approach. Accompanying that was a pair of black jeans and red-and-white sneakers. Where he'd usually have a tie, it was replaced by a black scarf with red ends wrapped around his neck and draping down either side of his chest. On his hip was an empty holster which was attached to a belt with a buckle that took the shape of the emblem of Hope's Peak Academy—an intersecting lightning bolt and a fountain inside a shield crest.
His eyes, which were a faded green collar, had changed pupils from before, no longer having regular pupils like before but rather they seemed to take the form of target radar—fitting, given his talent, and also because of something that Jolyne had given him a while back to aid him with his new talent.
"Oh, hey Jolyne," The boy, Hinata Hajime, said. A slight smile took up his expression as Jolyne smiled back. Hinata Hajime was Jolyne's boyfriend—had been that way for a little over two months. He was one of the very few people, and by few people she meant a grand total of two others, who knew more than what she had let on. While he wasn't aware of how she gained power, he was aware of what she was.
Jolyne Brooks was a Vampire. But not just any kind of Vampire. She was something dubbed a Draculina—the strongest form of True Vampire someone could achieve. True Vampires had multiple abilities that helped them thrive. From immense physical strength, immense durability, immense speed, nigh-infinite Regeneration, manipulation over blood on the atomic level, the ability to summon Hell Hounds, the ability to freeze anyone they touch, the ability to hypnotize anyone they wanted, and the ability to summon the souls of those they consumed and use them as soldiers.
Draculina's were beyond most Vampires when it came to sheer power. Coupled by the fact that she was a System User—more rather, a Multiversal System User—and she was by far one of the strongest people in the current world she resided in. She wasn't the strongest. That spot belonged to someone by the name of Makaria Plutos, but that was neither here nor there.
All of that aside, Hajime wasn't like her. Hajime was a regular human. He had also been one of the very few people that she met when she first came to this world that had actually bothered to get to know her, and she very quickly developed feelings for him. Whether or not it was the leftover feelings from the original inhabitant of her body or not, Jolyne didn't know nor did she care.
It was also kinda funny how their relationship began. It all started with her being shot in the head, and her surviving it because of what she was. Then there was a terrorist attack at the school which resulted in Hajime finding out about his Ultimate Talent—that being a Gunslinger—and while the circumstances around how it happened were tragic, it allowed him to get closer with his friends, which was something he was worried about not being able to do due how busy they would be, what with them being Ultimate's. Not that it mattered now, though.
"Hajime!" Jolyne said, stopping in her tracks as she turned to face him. "You forgot something back in the apartment, I was meaning to bring it to you but attendance took too long," Jolyne said, pulling out a black, custom made hand canon with the sentence "Jesus Christ Is In Heaven Now" on the side of the slider. It was around 39cm in overall length and weighed around 16kg, which was around the average weight of a gun like that. It could only chamber six rounds, but those six rounds were explosive rounds, and they were armour penetrating.
"H-Holy shit! Jolyne, you can't bring this into the building!" Hajime hissed, but still took the gun from her. It was extremely hefty, but it was manageable. "You modified it so I could use it, right?"
"Yup! Had to look up a guide but it should be good to go," Jolyne said as Hajime nodded, holstering the gun. "You owe me, by the way. Spent all night working on it and most of this morning."
"I always owe you, doesn't matter what I do," Hajime joked. "Not that I mind it," he added, causing Jolyne to blush.
"Tease…"
"Anyway," Hajime continued, rolling his shoulder. "I gotta go. Nekomaru and Akane want me to join them at the Gym, then I heading to the range to test this sucker out. You'll be able to pick up Kotoko from school, right?"
"Depends on how long it takes me to finish what I gotta do, but most likely," Jolyne said as Hajime nodded.
"What're you two talking about?" Asahina's voice rippled through the hallway as she approached them, a curious look on her face. "Who's Kotoko?"
"My little sister," Jolyne said as Asahina's eyes widened.
"You've got a sibling too? Oooh! Maybe we can have our siblings meet? Yuta needs friends, and he's a bit of a loner—but not those weird kind of loners, he's just not good at making friends. Might also help him from getting away from that Masaru kid… Always picking on him and never leaving him alone…." Asahina said, her tone energetic as Jolyne recoiled from the burst of energy that Asahina was having.
That was typical of her, though. Asahina was very, very energetic. A couple of their classmates described her as energy given physical form. Jolyne chuckled to herself, her head tilting ever so slightly to the left. "We'll see. Kotoko doesn't exactly like boys. She's… not had… good experiences with them, so to speak."
"Oh? Whaddya mean?"
"Nothing you need to know," Hajime interjected, stopping the discussion before it could happen. That was another thing that had happened over the course of the last two months. Hajime had found out what it was that had happened to Kotoko when he accidently said "Gentle" to her when brushing her hair. It caused Kotoko to have a full blown panic attack. As for why she freaked out… To not be crude, it was a word that associated with an "act" that Kotoko had been forced to go through due to her previous, horrible excuse of a mother "inviting guests" over to "play around" with her.
Needless to say, Hajime had become extremely protective over Kotoko, kind of like a father figure rather than a bigger brother. Which was important, because according to Kotoko, she never met her father. She wondered if that was a conscious decision on his her father's part or if there was something else Jolyne didn't know.
Whatever the case might have been, it hardly mattered now. Besides, Kotoko had a better family now. One that actually cared for her and supported her endeavors. Last week, Kotoko hosted a play about a version, albeit twisted, of Jack and The Beanstock—an American Fairytale with a dark fantasy twist, at least, in the play. It was… interesting to say the least. But in a good way. Although she had no idea what Demons had to do about a story of stealing golden eggs.
"O-Oh! Okay. Um… Well, whatever the reason is, I hope she's okay. 'Cause, ya know, from how you guys talk about, it must've been really bad…." Asahina said as Jolyne nodded.
"It was. Now, can we change topics?"
"Yup! Sorry, I'm not usually a downer like that," Asahina replied swiftly, hands behind her back as she smiled. "I was actually wondering, assuming you aren't busy and all, if you wanted to join me, Sayaka, Celeste, and Sakura in the sauna on the fifth floor. I asked Kyoko but she declined, and Chihiro was very against the idea. So was Fukawa-chan, too."
"Add me to the list of people of declined then. I hate sauna's," As Jolyne said that, she crossed her arms. "I don't like hot things. My only exception are hot tubs, and even then only when I'm alone." And also, the fact that she didn't naturally sweat unless she was low on Stamina was another thing. She didn't want to draw attention to that aspect of herself. There were only a few times that she had ever gotten low on Stamina before. The time when she fought Kokichi all those months back, and when she was with Hajime, and they were for two entirely different reasons.
"Alright! Kay, gotta go, bye! See ya later, Brooks-san! Hinata-senpai!" And with that, Asahina left, running up the stairs behind Hajime, prompting Jolyne to sigh.
"And with that, I must be off. See you later," Jolyne said, but not before giving Hajime a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he could say anything—aside from stammering and blushing like an idiot—Jolyne walked down the stairs, suddenly feeling a lot more energetic and happy. This morning had been a rather… bad morning to say the least. Which was weird, since last night was the opposite of bad. In fact, last night was fairly good all things considered.
For context, around two weeks back, Hajime had moved into her dorm/apartment thing that Hope's Peak Academy had set up for all of the Ultimate Students. His reasoning for wanting to move in was because he wanted to be closer to her, and he preferred to spend the mornings with her. So, rather than having to go from one floor to the other just to see her, he found it easier to move in with her. So, that was exactly what he did—with The Headmasters permission, of course.
Last night, Hanamura, the personal chef of the dormitory, had made everyone in the building steak dinner—even going as far as to make a smaller steak for Kotoko both because she was technically an Ultimate Student as well, and also because Hajime had asked him too, though moreso because Hajime had asked him too.
Both Class 77 – A and Class 78 then proceeded to have a fighting game tournament hosted by Nanami-san and Fujisaki-san. The game in question was Street Fighter II, and Jolyne placed 13th out of 31st. She wound up losing to Kyoko, who had actually dabbled in the game before, and was a filthy Chun-lee main. Although, Kyoko didn't last much longer than Jolyne had, having fought and lost to Nanami and placing 12th. Kotoko had placed 17th, beating Togami and bragging to him about it for twenty minutes straight, which really put the arrogant asshole in a foul mood for the rest of the night.
The winner of the tournament was Nanami—which was to be expected, what with her being The Ultimate Gamer. Hajime, however, came in second place. Hajime had been doubting himself the whole time, but he was extremely good with Zangief, and it came down to the wire with Nanami using Ryu. Both were tied with two wins each, and it was down to the wire, since it was out of five.
When they got back to their dorm, Jolyne put on a movie for Kotoko to watch—Howls Moving Castle—before slinking into the bedroom with Hajime and leaving Kotoko to watch one of the best movies ever made. When it was all said and done, Kotoko had fallen asleep on the couch, and after cleaning themselves up, Jolyne and Hajime shared a bed, with Jolyne having been attached to him essentially at the hip until the next morning.
The rest was history after that. But ever since she sat down in class she felt off. She didn't know why and nor did she care. But seeing Hajime made her smile and it gave her the boost of energy that she needed.
Exiting the Main Course building, Jolyne huffed as the gentle morning breeze washed over her. In the upper left corner of her vision, there was a map of the entirety of Tokyo and the surrounding cities within a 66 kilometer radius around her, although the map itself was shrunk down to only in the general area of where she was and a little bit outside of that, with a north, south, east, and west compass around the edge of the circular map.
There were several markers, most of which being locations that she had never been too. The locations in question were all stores and restaurants, save for one that was a few blocks east of Hope's Peak, that being a brothel in disguise as a motel; at least, according to the description of the marker.
However, out of all the markers on the map, there was a special marker just north of the school, and it was one that she had put down herself. It was purple in colour compared to the green and red markers on the map, and it was just a quick flight away from her currently location—maybe three seconds, at the minimum.
That marker was where The Boss Dungeon was located. According to Mono, they were extremely rare, and extremely challenging, which lately was something that Jolyne wanted. A challenge. For the last two months, Jolyne had been purposely seeking out Hard Difficulty level Dungeons to really push herself. The only issue was that they weren't hard at all. Sure, they recommended her to be at least level 80 or above, but they weren't challenging in the slightest. They were a breeze most of the time, and the odd occasion where she had some push back, it was only at the Boss, and that was primarily because of how small the arena was.
Mono had alerted to her that a Boss Dungeon had appeared, and told her to head to it before someone else did. The only other person who could was Makaria, as her partner, Jackson, was still M.I.A. and as for the other System User that was here before her, well… She didn't want to talk about that one.
Black, leathery wings sprouted from Jolyne's back, furling and stretching out twelve feet from her back. Then, without a single pause, the wings flapped and propelled Jolyne into the sky. Turning in the air to face north, with another flap of her wings powerful enough to create a sonic boom 300 meters in the air, Jolyne was off.
Her wings, a product of becoming a True Vampire, had been one of her favourite additions. Sure, teleporting was cool but it also cost her money. Which, while she was a billionaire thanks to Makaria paying her for taking out The Kuzuryu Clan, it didn't stop her from her being frugal. Never in her life, at least from what she could remember, was she ever this loaded. So, she wanted to keep that going as long as possible.
Just as she had predicted, it had only taken her three seconds—technically 2.5 seconds but that didn't really matter—to get from point A to point B. She gently landed in front of where the Dungeon entrance would be, and smiled upon seeing it. Dungeon Entrances were invisible to all of those without a System, and as such, they could appear anywhere. This one just so happened to be appear in front of a park entrance.
"Cute," Jolyne thought, staring at the Dungeon Entrance. It, like most Dungeon Entrances, was a wooden door with stone-like architecture lining it. Runes in a long dead language surrounded the wooden door, and a red light shone out from underneath it. As soon as she approached the entrance, she was met with a pop up holographic window that described the contents of The Dungeon—or at least, it's difficulty rating and possible rewards.
[Boss Dungeon]
[Rating: Insane]
[Recommended Level: 90]
[Rewards: 1 Mythic Ring, 50% Chance to drop a Slot Piece, 500,000 Yen]
"Slot Piece?"
[Yes. A Slot Piece. Boss Dungeons are one of the only dungeons that can do this. They have a chance to drop a slot of your choosing. Essentially, you can get a free Perk, Trait, or Spell Slot of your choice. Granted, it is only a 50% chance, so it is not a guarantee that you'll get one. The Mythic Ring is more than enough reason to do the Boss Dungeon, though.]
"What about a level up? It doesn't say I'll gain any levels or experience from the dungeon… Is that normal?"
[That is typical of a Boss Dungeon, yes. Normally, Boss Dungeon's do not award level ups or exp. However, they aside from the rewards they are stated to drop, they are also guaranteed to drop their weapons. I am scanning The Boss Dungeon now. I—] Mono paused mid sentence, and for a split second, her soul shivered. [We are extremely lucky this is a weaker variant… I never would've thought that… Nevermind. Jolyne. Prepare yourself. This will not be an easy fight. This Boss Dungeon is more than I thought. This Boss Dungeon is a Fractured Boss Dungeon]
Jolyne felt a wave of confusion wash over her. She was still in the process of recovering from having her soul shiver—which, mind you, she didn't expect to happen at all. But that was beside the point. "Fractured Boss Dungeon?"
[Yes. A Fractured Boss Dungeon is even rarer than a regular Boss Dungeon, and are, if you couldn't guess, limited to only Multiversal System Users. Within these dungeons, you are fighting shadow of another individual from within The Multiverse rather than a randomly generated Boss that The Watchers have created. The Almighty himself has put this before. I believe the saying goes: You get what you asked for]
Now Jolyne was extra curious. However, before she entered the dungeon, she opened up her Stat Screen to look over her stats—after all, it had been a while since she had looked at them, and she wasn't about to rush into a battle without knowing what her stats were incase she was under leveled. Not that she believed she was, mind you, but that was beside the point.
[Stats]
Health Points: 19,180 [SS-]
Mana: 18.905 [SS-]
Stamina: 19,455 [SS-]
Endurance: 9,321 [S-]
Attack: 1,319 [C]
Defence: 1,319 [C]
Magic Attack: 2,098 [B-]
Magic Defence: 2,098 [B-]
Physical Strength: 1,903 [B-]
Arcane Wisdom: 843 [C-]
Faith: 5 [F-]
Blasphemy: 1,795 [B-]
Critical Chance: 8.5%
Critical Damage: 58.5%
Exp Till Next Level: 511,650
Money: 4.5 Billion Yen
"What do you think, Mono? You think I'm good enough for this?"
[Barely]
That… that didn't sound very good. But, like she had noted earlier, she was looking for a challenge, and this was exactly what she was looking for. Placing a hand on the door to the dungeon, with a light shove, it gave way, allowing Jolyne entry. Stepping past the threshold between reality and the Dungeon, Jolyne felt an unnatural amount of power slam into her all at once.
"So. You've arrived." Deep, calm sounding voice invaded her mind as the dungeon doors closed behind her, before vanishing. Jolyne looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening as a pop-up appeared in front of her.
[You are prohibited from leaving the Dungeon.]
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jolyne whispered, the dark blue flames began to light up the hall she was now standing in. It looked like she was in some kind of castle hallway, and she was standing on a carpet. Pillars made of black marble rose up far into the air holding up the ceiling as windows that peered out into bright orange light allowed for the rays of said light to bleed in.
Ahead, there was a set of massive double doors, made of the same black material as the pillars as well as the walls. Red banners hung from the pillars, and she felt as if she was being watched. Given that there was a voice that had just spoke to her, that probably wasn't such a far fetched idea.
"I've heard that you, and many others like you, also have The System. I was only able to reach out to seven of you, though. Your God isn't a very generous man. But that's fine. I'm not allowed to help directly, but I can help you—all of you—indirectly." The voice continued as Jolyne's eyes focused on the door, the feeling of being pulled toward it doubling as she began to approach it. The closer that she got, the more she felt of that mysterious, nigh-unlimited power lurking behind the door.
"Beyond that door, there will be a past variant someone who you will have to fight—Do not bother asking how this is possible. I have my ways. Being what I am, and having access to the things I do, allows me to create and manipulate these events. I've seen your previous battles, and I will warn you now that the fight you are about to walk into is going to be difficult. It will harder than any fight you've had prior to this. Your God requested that I test you on his behalf—a strange request to be sure, but, much like the others, I believe you can pass this test. Good luck."
And with that, the voice ceased to speak, leaving her alone in front of the door. To say the build up was intense was an understatement. If this voice had been watching her since she had started, and if he—because it was very clear that the voice belonged to a man—had witnessed all of her fights and declared without a shadow of a doubt that what lurked behind this door was superior to all of the creatures she fought, including the literal Demi-God, then she wasn't exactly thrilled to step through the door.
She looked over her spells, and scowled. Due to all of her stats having increased over the months of grinding she had done, she could now use all of her Vampiric Spells that she had gained after becoming a Draculina. Her spell level had also gone up as well, going from 55 to 68. From what she was aware, Spell Level didn't do much aside from unlocking spells for her to use. It hadn't been since she got The Shadowmans Blessing that she had gained any new spells.
Had it not been for her snapping open Gacha Tokens or completing quests/transcending to a Draculina, she'd still be stuck with Void Snatch. A part of her was considering whether or not she made a mistake with picking The Shadowmans Blessing first over the other option.
As for what spells she had equipped, she had Blood Manipulation and Summon: Hellhounds in both of her slots. Blood Manipulation was too good of an ability to not remove. Sure, it didn't do much against bosses since the whole appeal was draining people and creatures of their blood without much hassle. It was also how she consumed as much blood as she had and dramatically increased her Physical Strength and Blasphemy as much as it was.
"That being said, considering this is going to be a Boss Fight, Blood Manipulation might not be the best choice. Blackened Domain would be great, but I don't think it would do enough damage. Void Snatch is out of the question… Vaporizing Freeze Technique might be good for close quarters, though…" Jolyne reasoned, swapping out Blood Manipulation for it. She kept Summon: Hellhounds because that was going to be her back up if she needs to stand back and recover her health and stamina.
The next thing she needed to check was her weapons. She only had two—ignoring the million different common weapons she had picked up and sold. There was 3F, a transforming Battle Axe that turned into a Halberd and Bardiche at her whim, which had been her old reliable for a while until it got replaced. Replaced by what? A sword with the power of a nuclear bomb: Slime Sword.
Upon drawing the blade out of her inventory and holding it in her hand, the extremely light weight sword swished through the air at blinding speeds. As she had found out, her Physical Strength requirement stat didn't just increase her capability in using weapons, but it also increased her speed. Arcane Wisdom also had a hidden modifier of also increasing someone's mental protection against mind magic, while Faith and Blasphemy protected the wielder from each other.
That aside, the weapon in her hand was a matte black sword that had a haunting dark purple glow ebbing and flowing around the blade. The glow was very faint, as if hiding its true nature underneath a veil of normalcy. It had a thin cross guard and hilt with an intricately designed pummel.
It didn't look like it, but it was a Mythical Rank Weapon—two ranks higher than 3F, and was capable of wiping out a city with a simple action and command. She had been testing it out in dungeons, and had found herself completely wiping them out in a single go without even having to step through a Boss Gate.
If she wanted to, she could just use the weapon skill and be done with it. There would've been no fight. It would've been a simple action and all the build would be wasted.
But that would've defeated the point of her even seeking this place out.
She wanted a challenge, and it was a challenge she was going to get.
"Well, I've wasted enough time. Let's get this show on the road," Jolyne thought as she pressed her left hand against the surface of the door, and with a half-hearted shove, the door began to open. It heaved and groaned from disuse, hinting that it hadn't been opened in ages. Stepping through the door, she was met with a rather elegant scene.
It was a throne room, with intricately carved floors and pillars. The light of whatever this worlds natural light source was bled into the room, giving it an ethereal glow that made it quite the sight to behold. The throne room was empty, lacking any living being within it. But that didn't stop her from feeling watched.
Then, the voice from earlier spoke up.
"Welcome to The Throne Room. Originally, I was going to have the past variant of my closest companion do battle with you. However, I decided to change my mind." The voice said, and then, in the blink of an eye, in a flash of black and purple lightning, a figure was now standing in front of the throne which sat on an elevated platform connected to a small flight of slanted stairs.
The man—no… it was no man. The presence that the figure gave off was less human and more of a God, and even then, comparing them to a God wasn't exactly correct either. It was something more… As if he transcended even The Almighty in terms of mere existence; or maybe on the same level. She didn't know.
But what she did know was that, despite how his aura felt, his appearance was that of a human. He was tall, extremely handsome and had an slim yet athletic build with gray eyes and sharp features. He had black hair that dangled down to his eyes, and he was dressed in a black long-sleeve, unbuttoned hooded coat with a white button-up shirt underneath, paired with a pair of black pants and matching black shoes. On his left hand, he wore a black glove but kept his right hand bare.
"I've decided that I want to test you. Don't worry. I'll go easy on you." And as soon as that sentence came out of his mouth, Jolyne felt something slam into her stomach with the weight of a high speed meteorite. She didn't even have time to catch of a glimpse of what hit her as he was sent flying into a wall, with her health bar being dropped all the way down to 13,785 HP. Blood slid down the sides of her mouth as she coughed, slowly standing up as she just barely had enough time to block the next attack with Slime Sword.
However, even though she blocked the attack, it hardly mattered as he knocked the weapon out of her hand with a well placed kick, sending it into the air, before grabbing her by the collar of her dress and slamming her into the ground in front of him, dropping her health bar down to 9,880 HP.
That was when she realized that the man was only using his hands and not a weapon of his own.
He was fighting using a disadvantage.
Slime Sword landed next to her head as the man began to walk away, hands in his pockets as he sighed. "Wow, and I wasn't even using 0.1% of my true strength. Apologies. I got ahead of myself there. It's been a long time since I've had a worthwhile battle. I should've realized that a measly level 95 couldn't give me anything that would be considered an actual fight."
With that, the man snapped his fingers as a pool of shadow rippled behind him. A black mass formed into that of a standard medieval soldier holding a black sword with a glowing blue aura rippling from behind its helmet. The man sat down on the throne, crossing one leg over the other as he rested his right hand on his cheek. "In hindsight, I should've started with this. If you can beat this Shadow Soldier, then the Dungeon will have considered itself completed, and you'll get your rewards."
Jolyne slowly stood up, her body aching as she used Slime Sword as a crutch to keep her balance. She felt her regeneration kick in overtime as her health bar filled up to full after a second or two, and the pain faded away.
"How the hell…" Jolyne thought, looking over at the man in the chair. Only 0.1% of his power—not even? Just how strong was he? "Nevermind that. The Shadow Soldier. I just have to beat it. That can't be too hard, can it?" As soon as Jolyne finished that thought she rushed toward The Shadow Soldier as it matched her speed. The two's blades clashed, and the resulting shockwave was enough to crack the pillars in the surrounding area.
Each swing of her sword was met with an equally matched swing of the Shadow Soldier's sword, and with each strike that connected, the ground underneath them became more and more cracked. She switched up her striking style from lengthwise strikes to stabs—seeing as it was a rapier longsword.
Striking rapidly, Jolyne tried to find an opening, but was given known. Neither her nor the Shadow Soldier gave an inch and it got to the point where she was starting to get frustrated. Vaporizing Freeze Technique would be useless, what with her enemy not having blood given that it was a shadow, so instead, after leaping backward, she snapped her fingers and the moment she did, two massive blood portals formed behind her, and using the brief moment to swap out Vaporizing Freeze Technique with Blood Control.
The moment the portals opened, two ten foot tall, Kodiak bear-like dogs with six eyes came out. Their fur was matte black, and they had flames leaking out of the sides of their mouths. Claws the size of talons poked out from their paws, and their teeth were the same size as that of a kitchen butcher knife except much sharper. Above their heads, the name tags of King and Buddy hovered above them as the Shadow Soldier did not waiver.
The man on the throne smirked, not saying a word as Jolyne, King, and Buddy charged at the Shadow Soldier. The second that King and Buddy leapt ahead of Jolyne and went to slash at the Shadow Soldier, it leapt over them, and charged toward Jolyne. Caught of guard, the only thing that Jolyne could do was block, protecting herself from its attack.
After blocking the attack, just as King loomed over the Shadow Soldier and attempted to swat at him, the Shadow Soldier spun around and with a single swing of its sword cut King's right front paw off with ease, causing him to freak out, howling and spewing flames down toward the Shadow Soldier.
The Shadow Soldier appeared behind King and went to plunge its blade into the back of King's neck, only for Buddy to swat the Shadow Soldier out of the air and into one of the pillars. A health bar appeared above the Shadow Soldier's head, dropping down from full to half.
"At least it's defensively weak," Jolyne thought as she lunged toward the stunned Shadow Soldier, reeled back her right fist and prepared to punch it in the head, only for the Shadow Soldier to recover faster than she could've predicted, and thrust its sword through her arm, cutting it in half lengthwise and dropping her HP down from full to 17,671 HP, blood littering the ground around the Shadow Soldier.
Which was exactly what she was planning for.
In the blink of an eye, blood spears shot out from the droplets of blood and impaled the Shadow Soldier in every direction, resulting in it evaporating into black smoke. She turned and looked over her shoulder at King and Buddy as the latter's right front paw regrew.
The man sat up straight in the throne, before snapping his fingers. As soon as he did, a massive black shadow-like bear appeared. Jolyne took a step back, eyes narrowed as the bear let out a guttural, primal roar powerful enough to shake the entire throne room. "Oi! I killed the stupid soldier, so why is the Dungeon still going?!"
"Because. I'm not satisfied. I should've said this earlier, but I'm The Dungeon Master for this Dungeon in particular. I want to see how you do against one of my bears, and then maybe an Ant, and then after that I'll be satisfied. Then you can go," the man in the throne as Jolyne scowled.
"Bullshit. This is complete and total bullshit," Jolyne thought as her HP bar fully healed once again. At the very least she could heal to full health before having to deal with the shadow bear. It had a blue claws and blue, cruel looking eyes and teeth. "Although, if the soldier was that hard, the bear is probably going to be even worse…"
Pointing Slime Sword at the bear, King and Buddy howled, and charged it whilst the bear stood its ground, standing on its hindlegs. Its eyes glared with nothing but pure wrath and the second that the two Hellhounds reached it and prepared to tackle it, the bear raised its paws into the air and slammed down, its front paws crashing down on King and Buddy's heads and flattening them into the ground, creating two massive craters in the floor, dropping their personal HP bars down to half, and stunning them.
Jolyne wasted no time, rushing in, arm reeled back with her sword ready to thrust into the bear's chest. The bear snarled, the noise guttural and fierce as it met Jolyne's charge with a charge of its own. The two met halfway, the bear swerving out of the way of the strike as it reared its paw back to swat her away, only for Jolyne to sprout her vampiric wings out of her back, drawing blood out of her hands and creating a massive spear above her head the size of a pillar.
Without even having to gesture, the spear flung toward the bear, but the bear dodged it, causing the spear to go flying through the wall and creating a massive opening within the Dungeon's walls. The man on the throne crossed his arms, huffing, as if impressed. Jolyne didn't pay attention to him, solely focused on the bear as she swooped in and thrust her sword into shadow creatures eye, dropping its HP down slightly.
"It's bulkier than I thought," Jolyne thought as King and Buddy recovered from their stun. King snarled and Buddy howled as the former charged up a beam of hellfire whereas the latter rushed the bear. Jolyne flew out of the way as Buddy struck the bear in the face, staggering it before biting down on its neck as the shadow bear roared, trying to reach back and claw out the many eyes of Buddy, only for Buddy to thrust the bear out in front of him, allowing for King to let out his beam of Hellfire.
The beam struck true, slamming into the bear as it's HP dropped down to half—which was bullshit, might she add—before grabbing onto Buddy's snout, having given up trying to claw his eyes out, and flipped Buddy over its shoulder before winding up a strike. Jolyne swooped in, Slime Sword prepared and pierced through the bears shoulder, causing it to falter as King rushed forward, slamming his body into the shadow bear and forcing it on the ground.
The shadow bear began to claw at King's chest, but that didn't save it from having blue flames poured onto its face, melting its HP down to nothing as it disappeared back into the shadows. However, the trade off was that King's HP was ridiculously low, so much so to the point that he was barely hanging on to life. King laid flat against the floor, breathing heavily as smoke poured out of his nose, whimpering all the while. Jolyne snapped her fingers, sending King back from where he came, but keeping Buddy out.
Jolyne walked up next to Buddy, hand firmly gripping her hilt as she glared at the man on the throne. "Alright, you got anything else?" Jolyne said, determination in her voice as the man on the throne narrowed his eyes, a dark blue hue emanating from them as Jolyne felt a chill crawl down her spine.
"Watching you take on that Ice Bear showed me that you work well with your Hellhounds. However, you yourself are lacking, and if you can hardly take on a mere shadow soldier without faltering, you won't be able to fight anything else I have in my arsenal," the man stated, as if it were fact, before standing up with his hands slipping back into his pockets. "I think that concludes our encounter for now. However, aside from the rewards you were going to get from this Dungeon, I've decided to reward you with a few things myself."
The man snapped his fingers, and as soon as he did a pair of daggers appeared in her free hand. One was red, and the other was blue, both with jagged blades, and they were fairly light all things considered—they were daggers after all. As soon as they appeared, Mono identified them.
[Kasaka's Venom Fang (Legendary)]
[Original Universe: Solo Leveling]
[Original Wielder: Sung Jin Woo]
[Description: A dark blue serrated dagger forged out of the fangs of the great serpent Kasaka, it contains a potent venom that paralyzes anyone pierced by it enough, and can cause an immediate bleed build up in anyone that gets stabbed.]
[Weapon Art: Kasaka's Deadly Venom – Upon stabbing someone in the back, Kasaka's Venom Fang will dump an unnatural amount of venom into the opponent, and paralyze them for 30 seconds, and drain their HP by 50% over the course of 60 seconds. Costs 700 Mana to use and can only be used when a backstab is committed]
[For each strike: 180 Beed Build Up, 50 Paralysis Build Up]
[Requirement Stats: Physical Strength: 220, Arcane Wisdom: 300]
.
[Knight Killer (Legendary)]
[Original Universe: Solo Leveling]
[Original Wielder: Sung Jin Woo]
[Description: A crimson red serrated dagger purchased by Sung Jin Woo to deal with armoured enemies, particularly Knights. This Dagger will do x2 more damage to enemies wearing armour.]
[Weapon Art: Armour Break – For 1,000 Mana and 25% stamina, charge forward with Knight Killer and either shatter the piece of armour that your enemy is wearing, breaking it forever, or severely weaken it.]
[Requirement Stats: 490 Physical Strength]
Putting away Slime Sword Jolyne stared at the daggers, tilting her head. They weren't better than her Slime Sword. She could even make the argument that 3F was better than these two daggers. However, she knew who would want them more. Especially given how tensions had been rising at school recently….
"Thanks," Jolyne said, putting the two daggers into her inventory. Just as she turned around to leave, though, the man—who she assumed was this "Sung Jin Woo" individual—snapped his fingers again and she suddenly felt a wave of power wash over her. For a brief second, a purple hue surrounded her before vanishing, as Jolyne spun around to face him.
"Like I said, I can't help directly. However, I can help indirectly. You aren't the only one who received a gift from me, nor multiple gifts for that matter, however, you're in dire need of a strength increase. Especially if you intend to fight what's equivalent to a God in the future," Sung Jin Woo said as another pop-up appeared in front of her.
[Shadow Monarch's Blessing: You have been blessed by The Shadow Monarch, Ruler of Death, Commander of Shadows, and The Strongest Being in All Creation. You have received a 5x Permanent Stat Boost, and all Void/Shadow based attacks will now deal 2x more damage than before. Your "Shadowmans Blessing" Tome has also been expanded]
.
Stats:
Health Points: 95,900 [SSS]
Mana: 94,525 [SSS]
Stamina: 97,275 [SSS]
Endurance: 46,605 [SSS]
Attack: 6,595 [A]
Defence: 6,595 [A]
Magic Attack: 10,490 [S]
Magic Defence: 10,490 [S]
Physical Strength: 9,650 [S-]
Arcane Wisdom: 4,215 [B]
Faith: 5 [F-]
Blasphemy: 8,975 [S-]
.
[For Reaching Spell Level 55, you have Unlocked…]
[Shadow Lightning (Legendary)]
[Description: A bolt of pure Shadow Lightning that, upon hitting a target, will half the targets endurance for 30 seconds. Will also apply the Burn status effect and briefly stun them for a second. Costs 5,000 Mana to use]
[Requirements: 380 Arcane Wisdom]
.
[For Reaching Spell Level 60, you have Unlocked…]
[Void Creation & Manipulation (Legendary)]
[Description: At the cost of 200 Mana per cast, you can generate Void around you and manipulate it freely on the atomic level. Void is everywhere, and is invisible to the naked eye unless brought into reality.]
[Requirements: 490 Arcane Wisdom, 490 Blasphemy]
.
[Something Awaits You Upon Reaching Spell Level 500… Be Prepared]
Jolyne stared at the multiple pop-ups, flabbergasted at the massive power boost and the two spells that she had just gained, albeit they were gained by increasing her spell level naturally. The stats, on the other hand… She dismissed the pop-ups and looked up at where Sung Jin Woo was, only to find that he was now gone.
"He must've left when I was looking over my new stats. But, the question is… why? Mono, out of curiosity, what level should I be with these stats?"
[Your stats are too all over the place to grant a single level to. But, if I were to round it all out, then with your current stats, you would most likely be around level 190 to 300. As far as this world is now concerned, in terms of pure strength, with the exception of The Lord of Frenzied Flame, you are now the strongest being here, bar none. I was not expecting The Shadow Monarch to bless us with his presence, but all the same, if his words are true, he visited all of the other members of The Seven with the goal of making them stronger. I have a feeling Loki will either be pleased or annoyed. That being said, there isn't much he can do about it]
"Why? Isn't he in control of The System?"
[It depends on who or what interacts with it. Entities like Lucifer and Loki function on the 3 rd Dimension. Entities like The Shadow Monarch, of whom is native to a different Multiverse all together, function on the 5 th Dimension outside of time and space. He can go anywhere, at anytime, for any reason he wants to. There are very few creatures out there who are stronger than him, and most of them are responsible for creating all 9 planes of dimensional existence. But that is far beyond our spectrum. We shouldn't bother with such ideas]
Just as Mono finished saying that, there was, yet again, another two pop-ups—her rewards for "completing" the Dungeon.
[Ring of The Shadow Monarch (Mythic)]
[Description: A Ring Containing 0.00001% of The Shadow Monarch's power. For as long as the ring is equipped, 2x damage increase by all Void/Shadow-based attacks. Alongside this, it will also increase all resistance to Blasphemy-based damage completely for 1 attack, and prevent all instant kill attacks from working on the wearer]
.
[You have gained 1 Slot of your choice! Lucky you!]
[Spell]
[Trait]
[Perk]
Jolyne didn't hesitate and chose the spell slot. The second she did, she equipped Void Creation & Manipulation, then slid on the Ring of The Shadow Monarch. It was ironic. Just as she was complaining about a lack of Void based spells, she just received two of them. Granted, she was primarily going to only use Void Creation & Manipulation over Shadow Lightning. Although, if she got a fourth spell slot, she would equip that now, too.
"Now, I'm curious. Just how strong am I?" Jolyne thought, looking down at her right hand as she dismissed the screens in front of her. Considering that she was, essentially, somewhere in the bracket of level 190 to 300, what exactly did that mean?
"Am I still the weakest member of The Seven?"
[If you asked me that before The Shadow Monarch blessed you? Dramatically. But now? Contrary to what Jamol told you, he was not the weakest before you. That title belonged to Rika Taragami, and right now, while you are still the weakest, you are closer to them than before. Before you ask, Jamol is the 5 th strongest, just behind Julliette Hart by a hair. However, the leap in strength is dramatic between Rika and Jamol]
That was better than what she thought. But, compared to The Seven, she was probably going to remain a wimp. What she wanted to know was how strong she was in a more literal sense. So, that was when she decided to test something.
Teleporting out of the dungeon and to the roof of one of the surrounding buildings that the Dungeon Entrance was at, deployed her Vampiric Wings, and flew high into the sky. She travelled toward one of the many mountains—Mount Mihara to be specific—and hovered a couple hundred feet away from it.
Mount Mihara wasn't populated, although it was a popular hiking location. That being said, Jolyne didn't have many options. She had just finished a Dungeon, and just by looking at the sky she could tell by the sun beginning to set that she had been gone for a lot longer than she had originally wanted, so diving into another Dungeon was a no-go.
There was also the fact that she didn't want to do too much damage to the mountain—assuming she could damage it all—and she specifically chose one of Japan's smallest mountains. Mount Mihara was 764 meters tall, or around 2,507 feet tall. It was also a Volcano that was due to explode within the next 100 years.
"The chances of me damaging this is probably next to none. I mean, I'm still weak compared to the others, so there's no way this'll do much of anything," Jolyne thought as she raised her right hand toward the mountain, then, activated Void Creation & Manipulation. As soon as she did, a small ball of void began to form in the palm of her hand, and it stopped growing when it got to the size of a golf ball.
She frowned, not very impressed with the result, before sighing. "Definitely not going to do much. I mean, I can create a pillar-sized spear with Blood Manipulation. Lame! Just when I thought this would be a keeper." As soon as Jolyne thought that, she fired off the ball of void toward the mountain, crossing her arms as it travelled to the mountain at blistering speeds—faster than the human eye could measure.
After a second or two, the ball of void hit the side of the mountain… and obliterated the entire mountain in the blink of an eye. One second, it was there. In the next, it was gone, followed by a powerful shockwave that sent Jolyne flying to the ground, throwing her several hundred feet away as she deployed her Slime Sword to slow herself down.
Her eyes widened at the destruction caused by the miniscule ball of void, before clenching her hand into a fist. "Holy shit…!" She also noticed that several thousands of EXP came flooding in, most of which in small amounts, so if she had to guess she probably just wiped out a good chunk of Japan's wildlife in doing so. Nothing could've survived that.
She wondered if there were any people on that mountain. If there were, then they just died. Yet, surprisingly, she felt numb to the idea.
She felt numb to killing innocent people.
"Is this because I'm a Vampire?" Jolyne thought, scowling. "No. I can't feel like that. I… I just can't. The moment I do that, I become no better than those who are apart of The Flame…" Jolyne scowled, pushing the thought out of her mind. For now, she didn't need to think about that. Right now, she needed to go home. Kotoko and Hajime were probably waiting for her to—
"Well, well, well! I gotta admit, that was quite the show!" A voice called out behind her, as Jolyne looked over her shoulder before fully turning to face the individual who had just spoken to her. They were tall, with long, elegant black hair, cream coloured skin, and dark green eyes that radiated with power.
They were dressed in a purple waistcoat with a white short-sleeve shirt underneath, alongside a red and green striped tie that reached down to the center of their chest. Their arms, while thin, were muscular and their legs, which were covered by a pair of purple pants and held up by a belt with a golden buckle, were thin as well but were much the same as the arms.
The individual's posture was straight with their arms behind their back, and they wore a smug smile the likes of which could only be rivaled by someone more confidant than them, which was damn near impossible given who they were.
"Hello, Jolyne! It has been quite a while. Say, do you have some time to talk? Because I can assure you it is both very important, and worth your while~!" Loki, God of Mischief and Trickery, said as his smile somehow widened.
"Ah, shit."
[-To Be Continued-]
[-Ending Song: request by: Krage-]
Notes:
And there ya go! Finally, after nearly a month of waiting, the first chapter of Book Two is now complete! Huzzah! You're welcome. Also, yes, I buffed Jolyne. What the hell are you gonna do about it? Oh yeah, that's right, nothing! Ha!
A-hem, anyway, that being said, this is gonna be fun. That's all I'm gonna say. Originally, this was going to end differently, but I also didn't want this to drag on for more than 15k words. So, I cut it off here.
Now, with all that said, time for my response to reviews/comments!
[Response to reviews/comments]
(Ao3) AidenJacksonSmithDSBB: Yes! Read peak! I have a feeling you'll like the main character. Very snarky and very witty.
(Ao3) WilburDrake: To answer your question about The Watcher's Weapons: Yes, they all have Godly Cosmic Weapons, and no, they are not obtainable unless gifted to the individual who is going to receive them. Also, how dare you insinuate I would even so much as touch a hair on poor Michael's head! He deserves nothing but the best (especially with later book knowledge. Seriously, the guy cannot catch a break). Anyway, that being said, Jolyne will more than likely become a bit more strategic.
(Ao3) Kolt: I've always hated how Junko didn't give a damn about Mukuro. I mean, yeah, sure, Chaos Junkie and murder hobo aside, I'd like to think that underneath all of the bullshit that Junko did care about Mukuro but liked Despair more. Obviously that's not the case here, and this will result in something extremely tragic happening by the end of the book. After all, actions have consequences. I'm a firm believer of that in stories. You can't just get a one-up on the villain without getting smacked back for it.
Also, just to clarify, The Flame of Frenzy in the DR world is just a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the actual entity. It is a separate being from the main body. If Izuru had proposed that deal to the full, true entity that is The Outer God of Chaos then he would have been erased from existence.
Finally…! Read The Dresden Files. One of the best book series out there, hands down. Have a wonderful day, Kolt!
(Ao3) fluffycuddlebug: Lmao!
And that's all from me! Hope you guys enjoyed this. I'll see you all in the next chapter! Peace out!
Chapter 4: Chapter 2: Adjusting Mindsets, Facing Reality
Notes:
Yo. Been over a month but hey, stuff happens, I get busy (and also distracted by other stuff I'm working on) and I also now have a Job at 7-Eleven, so uploads are going to be even less frequent.
Response to Reviews/Comments will happen at the end of the chapter as per usual. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – By: GRANRODEO]
"There was once a Vampire of unknown repute, with no court to their name, yet devastatingly powerful likewise. Pale was their skin, and shining jewels were her eyes. Her tenderness toward humanity was palpable, even bizarre for someone of their kind. Devious was their personality, but all the same, they did not bare any ill will to humanity. Within the month of their arrival, she vowed to aid in humanities triumph over The Reds, and vowed to forge an army of likeminded and like bodied folk for the war. Yet, the powers at be, wary and paranoid as they were, saw it as a threat, and treated it as such. To them, a Vampire raising an army, no matter the intention, was seen as a threat. So was it that on that day, of which we dub "The Fall" did those in charge seal their fates." – Quote from "The Fall: How It Happened", page 1, Paragraph's 1 through 3
[Chapter 2: Adjusting Mindsets, Facing Reality]
Of all the things that Jolyne had expected to happen, the last thing on that list of miscellaneous happenings would be to randomly encounter The God of Mischief, Trickery, and Deception Loki Laufeyjarson, aka, her boss. The very deity behind her system was now looking down on her, a smile on his face. His menacing form gave off more power than any person or entity that she had come across, made even worse by the fact that he watched her blow up a mountain.
Within his eyes, there was a gleam of frustration. As if he had been annoyed. It didn't seem directed at her, but someone else. That aside, it didn't help that his expression was twisted the way it had been. Eyebrows narrowed, smile too taut to be natural, and teeth bared.
If she hadn't known better, she would've thought she was staring up at an angry wolf ready to devour her entire being.
"A-Ah… um… Sir! I, er…"
"You do not have to be wary of me, kid," Loki began as he put a hand on her head, ruffling her hair, his expression shifting to that of a neutral one. Jolyne immediately brushed his hand off her head, a scowl spreading across her lips as she huffed. She hated it when he did that—considering it was the first time, that spoke volumes as to her displeasure of him being here.
Every time Loki showed up, it was never good news—never. The only thing that she was ever grateful of him for was for him bringing her back to life; even then that had consequences for the world she had now inhabited.
"Now, now, no need to be like that," Loki continued, before looking over at the, now destroyed, mountain. He whistled, putting both hands on his hips as he leaned back slightly, a quirked eyebrow and an impressed smirk taking up his visage. "Wow. You've certainly gotten strong."
"I didn't mean to blow up the mountain. I didn't think it would be nearly as powerful…" Jolyne murmured as Loki barked out a laugh.
"Kid, ya don't gotta feel bad. I mean, c'mon, it's just a buncha mortals who died. That happens, like, what? Every second?"
"They're still people," Jolyne bit out as Loki sighed.
"Right. Forgot. You still value human life. Don't worry, that'll change eventually," Loki stated matter-of-factly as Jolyne's scowl deepened. "Don't look at me like that. When you get to my age and level of power, mortals are… well, they're kind of like ants. Things that exist that you try your best to ignore but end up accidentally stepping on."
"Shut up," Jolyne sneered, standing up as she dusted herself off. "Whaddya want." As she spoke, her voice layered with venom and frustration, Loki looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and a gleam of interest. It made her shudder. The way that Loki looked at her made her feel increasingly uncomfortable, and the longer she was in his presence, the more she wanted to run away from him.
"There you are, I was wondering where you went," Loki mocked, further annoying Jolyne. "Snarky, loathsome, always has her panties in a twist—yup! That's the person I remember. Not whatever the hell you've become, you big softie."
"You just like it when I'm mad. Now, what the hell do you want?" Jolyne grumbled, crossing her arms as Loki frowned. Jolyne knew—she knew damn well that he was trying to get a rise out of her. It was working too, but she was smarter than to let him get to her.
"Fine, fine, I'll cut to the chase. So, ya know how Lucifer wants you to go hunt a couple of souls for him in another world?"
"Yes. I'm aware. What of it?" Jolyne bit out as Loki smirked.
"Well, I took a trip to that world—ya know, for some recon. Gotta say, he picked one hell of a tutorial for ya." As Loki said that, Jolyne couldn't help but feel that bubbling frustration build up even more.
Although, at the same time, the way his tone fluctuated from casual and neutral to excitement didn't bode well. From what she knew of Loki—which was very little, mind you—any time the God of Mischief got excited was usually for never anything good. It made her wary, and it also caused her to wonder just what kind of nightmare she would be walking into.
To be perfectly honest, Jolyne just wanted to live a normal life; though she knew it was basically impossible. That being said, a woman could dream, and if this was anything like what she was currently dealing with, she was going to have some very choice words for Lucifer when she got back.
"Ugh, of course… because nothing can ever be easy for me…" Jolyne bemoaned, sneering as she broke eye contact with Loki. That hunger in his eyes wasn't going away, and it was actively making her more and more uncomfortable. "Look, whatever else you want, just get it over with and go."
"You've changed a lot in these last few months," Loki began, putting a hand on her shoulder. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face. "You've… matured. I get that it's because of your transformation from a regular Half-Vampire to full blown Draculina, but I never would've expected this."
"Please don't go in the direction I think this is going…" Jolyne thought, dread building up in her stomach. She briefly looked to his eyes, and… God it was nightmare inducing. The way his eyes glowed, and the way his sheer, domineering presence overpowered her mind, body, and soul made her want to cower in fear.
"But, you're spoken for, so to speak. Maybe my libido is simply spiked due to recent events, but I have to admit, you'd make quite the fine concubine," Loki said as Jolyne recoiled, sneering as she shoved his hand off her shoulder.
"I'm a child you freak," Jolyne spat as Loki chuckled, his tone low, and his expression unchanging—twisted into what could only described as predatory lust.
"Yes, and it is quite unfortunate. My morals, however shaky they might be, prevent me from acting upon my current desire. But it won't be long from now when you'll be an adult, and when you are…" He licked his lips, and the dread that Jolyne had felt exploded into terror, taking a step back as the greenish glow in his eyes shone like ethereal lights. He was letting some of his power leak into the atmosphere, and as it did, reality itself seemed to shake.
The way the ground sparked and crackled with black and green electricity, and the way the muscle on his body seemed to double, and his height to go beyond six foot. The way his teeth seemed to turn sharp, and the way his fingers seemed to become talon-esque…. He looked as if he was halfway to transforming into some kind of demon.
And his next words…
They made her feel disgusted to her very core.
"I will take you for my own."
It wasn't a suggestion.
It wasn't a request.
It wasn't even a joke.
He was claiming her, like she was a toy.
And maybe it was her irrational side thinking in the moment of her next action. Maybe it was the fear that overrode her, but just as he finished saying that, and just as his words faded away, Jolyne did something incredibly stupid.
Terrified and overcome by fear, Jolyne, faster than even Loki could've saw coming, punched him in the stomach. And where Loki would not have cared all too much about the assault on his divine person, what happened as a result did startle him, if only slightly.
Because it caused him to stagger, even if it was only for a split second. The force of the punch shook the surrounding area, and even cracked the ground between the two slightly. Loki audibly grunted, clutching at his stomach as he shrunk down back to normal, his form returning to what he typically appeared as.
Jolyne stared at him, her breath laboured and fear etched into her eyes. Loki stared back, astonished.
She hit him.
She fucking hit him.
Him! A God! A Watcher!
He snickered, making Jolyne flinch. His snicker turned into a chuckle, and his chuckle turned into a fully on belly-aching laugh. Jolyne was still terrified, and she had every right to be. She knew this would happen—she fucking knew it. Loki was the most sexually deviant out of all the Norse Gods—he fucked a horse, for crying out loud, so it came as to no one's surprise that he'd openly sexually harass a child.
And that fear quickly turned to anger, her dreaded expression quickly turning into fury. "Listen here you bum! Don't you ever talk to me like that! I am not your little play thing, and I never will be, you got that?!" As Jolyne spat those words, and as her voice got louder and louder with each word that dripped with venom, Loki couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh-ho-ho!" Loki cackled, wiping a tear from his eye as he settled down, brushing off his top before smirking. "That was precious, child. But do try not to forget your place in our relationship," Loki stated rather plainly, his tone oozing with venom. He slapped her, sending her crashing to the ground that shattered beneath her, curtesy of the impact. Her HP bar dipped far below half as blood spewed out of her mouth.
Her anger reverted back into fear as she tried to scramble to her feet, only to be grabbed by the neck, the force of which was damn near almost enough to snap her neck in half as she was made to stare into his eyes. The fury that radiated from them was more than enough to set a whole universe on fire, made all the worse by the fact it was directed at her.
"Allow me to boil it down to the brass tacks. You are my slave, and I am your master. I will do with you as I please. I may bleed you for my pleasure, toss you around like a rag doll, or fuck you until your mind is broken and you become nothing more than another cum dumpster that I may have my way with. Your lucky I don't just snap you away for tickling me like you did. It's bad enough that the damnable Shadow Monarch messed around with your power progression, and I'd have half the mind to revert it had it not been for him placing that little magical seal on it, but just because you have the blessing from an outer deity, doesn't mean you should get too ahead of yourself. You are strong, little one, but I am beyond strength. You'd take care to remember that."
And with that, he dropped her to the floor like a used tissue, turning his back on her but not before looking over his shoulder. "By the way. Lucifer wishes to meet with you. You'll find him waiting for you in Hiroshima, in front of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial." And then, in a blink, Loki was gone.
In that moment, Jolyne felt helpless. She felt like she had all those months ago, weak and powerless. That same dread she felt when she had fought that Blood Hunter, who's name she had long forgotten, had bubbled within once again. Except, unlike when she was bailed by who she now knew to be Makaria, there had been no one who could've nor would've saved her if things had gone south.
As she sat sideways on the ground, clutching her broken neck as it repaired itself, her breathing pained and choked, compared to a being like Loki, she felt as if all of her progress had been undone. As if all her accomplishments meant nothing. For all the power she had gained, she was nothing to him.
Nothing but a toy he wanted to use for his own personal, sick, twisted desires.
She felt repulsed.
She felt like nothing.
She felt like she had been put back to square one.
"Mono…"
[Yes, Jolyne?]
"Please… please tell me he didn't mean that…"
Mono didn't say a word. That only made things worse. When her throat finally had finished healing, and when the rest of her body finished fixing itself and for her HP bar to go back to full, Jolyne wobbled to her feet, clutching her head and looking out over in the direction where Loki had previously been. "Bastard… Disgusting, filthy, ugly, gross fucking pig."
She shuddered. She didn't want to be here anymore—the longer she lingered, the worse she felt. She needed to get as far away from here as possible. A part of her wanted to head straight to Lucifer, but she had another thing that she needed to do first.
Opening up her Mini-map, she enlarged the "screen" in front of her, and swiped all the way over to where the Hope's Peak Academy's Dormitory Building was. Tapping on it, the option to "fast travel" appeared, and upon tapping the "travel" option, in the blink of an eye, she stood just in front of the entrance to the building.
The Hope's Peak Dormitory Building was nothing exactly to marvel at. But, all the same, it was quite the sight nonetheless. The exterior of the building was made of the same dark-red brickwork as the main building, with black quartz pillars dividing the front facing windows with the extra objective of holding up the slopping black tile roof. The entrance to the building, that being two double doors with golden door handles, were made of dark oak wood, and the glass appeared tempered, not allowing for easy viewing access.
For those on campus who chose live within the walls of the dormitory, it was meant to be a safe haven away from the "riffraff" as she had heard Byakuya explain it. Although, he included the rest of Class 78 into that list, as well. They were simply an elevated status of riffraff that Jolyne joked as being "Riffraff Premium", much to Byakuya's annoyance.
Opening the door and entering the foyer of the Dormitory, she was greeted with the smell of food being made. "Seems like Teruteru is making dinner," Jolyne thought, frowning. Over the last few months, she had grown to heavily dislike the perverted chef, but in the same vain, she also grew to respect him. It was like a weird balance of respect and loathing. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
On the one hand, he was a creep beyond measure—he had caught him attempting to grope her in her sleep on a joint camping trip, only for Hajime to up a pistol to his forehead, seeing as they had been sleeping in the same tent.
On the other hand, his food was to die for. Even though she technically didn't need to eat, what with being her being a vampire, that didn't mean she couldn't taste it. The food Teruteru made was perfection, albeit a little strange and heavily inspired by American cuisine. Not that she minded American food, but it was a little weird how Teruteru seemed to only make foreign foods rather than any from Japan.
That being said, she wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. She had already dealt with one pervert, and quite frankly she felt as if that if she dealt with another one it would end up with a body bag being required. So, instead of going left, she went right toward a flight of stairs.
The hallway was dark blue in colour, which contrasted with the exterior of the building. The first floor really didn't have much going for it aside from two hallways, a massive kitchen connected to a dining room, a joint living area just past dining room, and a staircase that took those within to the second floor and above, which was where all of the actual dorms were.
Jolyne's dorm was on the third floor, alongside all of those in her class who chose to live on campus, which was virtually all of them aside from Naegi, Hina, Sakura, and Sayaka. When she reached the top of the stairs, she was met with two hallways. One on the left, and one on the right.
The one to her left was for all the boys, which had twelve dorm rooms, split into six rooms on each end. The hallway to her right was for all the girls, which had the same format. So, naturally, she went right, and stopped after taking a few steps forward at the first dorm on the same side as the stairs. On the door was a fingerprint scanner, but she was able to override it thanks to Mono—having a sentient super computer within her soul had its perks.
When the door unlocked, Jolyne grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and stepped inside and closing the door behind her. Taking her shoes off at the entrance and sighing, Jolyne stepped into the dorm proper.
Jolyne's dorm, or to be more accurate, apartment, was laid out in a very similar way to that of her old apartment in Shibuya. The entrance of the apartment gave way to a massive living room that took up most of the space, with a couch and a loveseat, a 55 inch flatscreen TV attached to the wall with a shelf underneath the TV, lined with books, board and video games, all of which were protected by a sliding glass door.
In the center of the apartment was a wool mat with the school's logo etched into the design atop of which was a glass coffee table, and the walls were painted a deep shade of burgundy. The floor was made out of a dark brown hard wood, and in the left most corner of the apartment was a bathroom. While it lacked a shower, the building had a community shower split into genders, so at least she wouldn't need to pay to go to a bath house—a massive upgrade from her previous apartment.
Sitting atop the shelf underneath the TV was a PlayStation 4, an Xbox One, and a Wii U—all of the "modern" generation of consoles, provided by the school itself. She liked the PlayStation 4 out of the other two, primarily for playing Dark Souls and Dark Souls 2. Kotoko liked the Wii U for specifically Mario Kart 8, and Hajime liked playing the Xbox One for Call of Duty Advanced Warfare and Black Ops 2.
Then, of course, off to her immediate right was where her and Hajime's bedroom had been, which had been set up the exact same way as her old bedroom had been, albeit with more space. She had memorized it clearly in her mind. A king size bed, two dressers—one for Hajime and one for Jolyne that she split with Kotoko—a desk, a bookshelf, and a bedside table where Jolyne kept all of her "toys."
That aside, sitting on the couch was Hajime. He was dressed in the same outfit as he had been when she saw him at school, so that must've meant that she hadn't been gone for that long. He had a headset on, occasionally talking to someone in a party chat—probably Chiaki if she had to guess and maybe Kazuichi, since the three of them liked playing Exo-Zombies when not focusing on their talents. As for Kotoko, she was sitting at the coffee table, seemingly writing something for a play.
Kotoko had been dressed in a pink long-sleeve shirt, with the sleeves turning white at the elbow, alongside a pair of dark blue jeans that were being held up by a belt. Normally, Kotoko wore skorts or knee-length skirts but she guessed today she wanted to wear jeans—which made sense, seeing as it was coming close to winter time.
Jolyne didn't say a word, she simply stood at the front door, listening to Hajime talk to whoever he was in a party chat with. "Yeah, I know… I get that, I really do but—Kaz, behind you, oh okay, thanks', Chi… Um, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Look, don't get me wrong, I get where she's coming from, but that doesn't mean I'm still not worried about her."
So, she was right, he was also talking to Chiaki and Kazuichi. That figured. They were clearly talking about someone—most likely her, but she didn't mind. Her and Kotoko made eye contact, but she silently shushed her before she said anything, just to see where this was going.
"Yes, Kaz, I know, we both saw what she did to that bear, but you gotta admit seeing Teruteru that excited to cook fresh bear was equally as disturbing…. See, Chiaki gets it. Yeah, that's exactly what I'm referring to. I mean, I saw it happen… Yeah, it was bad. Really bad… I couldn't sleep for days. I blamed myself… I know it wasn't my fault, Chi. Seriously, I know. I'm not blaming myself. Thanks, you guys, really, you're the best."
"The worst part is that she doesn't even acknowledge that it happened. I mean, I get that she probably doesn't want to remember, but… She treats it as if it never happened. Like, she talks about the effects it had, and yeah, it made her super powerful as a result, but… I don't know. I just… don't even know how to approach the topic with her. The last time I tried she shut it down, and… I haven't tried since."
Jolyne stared at Hajime, who still had yet to notice her presence, too absorbed in his conversation and game. She blinked, concern washing over her face and suddenly, she felt really bad. Jolyne knew exactly what it was that Hajime had been talking about.
Truth be told, "Jolyne" wasn't exactly "Jolyne" if that made any real sense. To make a very long-winded story short, when Jolyne "created" her body, what she had actually done was essentially craft herself a body that looked like someone else, and replaced that individual—not that she had been aware of it at the time, seeing as Loki had thoroughly tricked her.
What made matters even worse was that the real Jolyne, the girl who she had replaced, already had a life leading up to her having taken over her body. But, the real Jolyne had committed suicide. Had "Jolyne" not possessed her body, i.e. turned it into what was effectively a meat puppet with no bones, organs excluding her reproductive ones, and blood, life as that body had known it would've ended.
When she had found out about that, it had caused her a great deal of mental anguish. She had thought that she would've been given a new life to start over, not taking over someone else's. Despite that, though, she had no choice but to trudge along full steam ahead. On the bright side, as Mono had put it, she was essentially giving Hajime, who had been dating the real Jolyne, a chance at continuing his life as it had been.
As for the changes and how Jolyne explained them away, she had told him a half-truth. In exchange for her memories, she was given powers and magic by Loki. The only reason why she had told him that though was because she survived getting shot in the head, with him having been a witness to it.
Jolyne hated talking about it. It made her feel awful. Because, no matter how she tried to spin it for herself, and no matter what Mono had tried to make it seem, she still stole someone else's life; even if they had planned on ending it all. It disrespected what they had wanted, and even to this day, she was conflicted about it.
Jolyne Brooks—the real one, not her—had lived and built the ground work for a foreign invader she had no idea that was coming to steal her existence away from her. Hell, for all she knew, the reason why the real Jolyne committed suicide could've been from Loki's outside influence. Given what she had just experienced today, she wouldn't have put it past him. After all, she had been unconscious for three days prior to her awakening….
Then came the conversation that he had been talking about. Two months ago, Jolyne had laid siege to The Kuzuryu Clan—a Yakuza organization who had been infected by The Frenzied Flame, which was itself a whole different can of worms. However, just before Jolyne went to go do it, Hajime tried to convince her not due to his own worries and concerns about her wellbeing.
Jolyne, in her infinite wisdom, dismissed his concerns rather coldly, and without considering his opinion on the matter, she left to do as she was requested to do by Makaria Plutos, another System User.
She had apologized to him in private a while back about what had happened, but Hajime had told her not to worry about it. Jolyne took it for granted, and they had continued their relationship as if the conversation hadn't happened. Admittedly, it was her fault for not pressing the issue, but the less she had to think about the reality of it all, the better.
So to find out that he was still thinking about it, and trying to ignore it because he believed she wanted nothing to do with the topic—which was true, she really didn't—all to keep her happy upset her greatly. Don't get wrong, she appreciated it, but to make himself suffer over it because of her own ignorance….
"You stupid, selfish, moronic, idiotic numbskull…" Jolyne mentally chastised herself, and while she could go on for hours about how much of an idiot she was, making herself feel bad wasn't going to help matters. Clearing her throat loud enough so that Hajime could hear, he suddenly jolted, looking over in the direction of the door before sighing.
"Damnit, you scared the hell out of me, Jolyne," Hajime said, looking over to the game and sighing, whilst Jolyne gave him a look—not a nasty one, but one that signified that she wanted to talk to him. It was kind of convenient, considering he had bleed out in the game. "Guys, I gotta go. Yeah, I know, we're close, but she's giving me the 'we have to talk' look. I don't think I'm in trouble, no. Alright. Yeah, yeah. Oh my God, Kaz, bye." And with that, he disconnected from the game, chuckling as he did, before sobering himself. "So, um… what's up?"
"Hajime… You do know I overheard everything, right?" As Jolyne said that, Hajime's posture changed. It went from relaxed to ridged in no time flat. He stared at her, blinking, as if caught off guard.
"Wait… you… overheard that? How long have you been standing there?"
"Five minutes, give or take," Jolyne said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You never told me it was still bothering you. We could've talked about it, you know?"
Hajime frowned. "We're not getting into this right now."
"What?"
"Look, I just don't want to talk about it."
"But you were fine just now talking with Kazuichi and Chiaki about it," Jolyne said, matching Hajime's frown with one of her own.
"That's different."
"How?"
"It just is, okay. There are probably things you tell other people that you're not as comfortable talking to me about," Hajime said, standing up. "It's the same for me."
"Like what? I mean, yeah, there are obvious girl-related things I talk to my female classmates about that I don't talk to you about, but how the hell does that even come close to what I did to myself? I—"
"Maybe it's because I don't want to talk about it with you, alright? You made your stance pretty clear to me then—"
"That's different! Things change, Hajime, for crying out loud—"
"How the hell am I supposed to know that? It's not like you're an open book."
"Oh please, I'm about as open to you as I can be—"
"Really? How about telling me what you do when you leave campus, huh? You haven't told me anything about that."
Jolyne paused, her frown deepening. "I go out on walks."
"Hour-long walks?"
"Very enthusiastic walks, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"See! And that proves my point right there. Just tell me what you do, it's not that hard. I want to know where my girlfriend is disappearing to for hours on end."
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" When Hajime didn't say anything, Jolyne scowled. "Oh, there is no way you're actually accusing me of that, are you? Why in the sweet hell would I ever even consider that?!"
"I'm not accusing you of anything!" Hajime said pointedly, jabbing a finger at her. "You're jumping to conclusions!"
"Jumping to conclusions my ass! You're the one who made the assertion, you prick! What the hell else am I supposed to think!"
"Just tell me where you're going! Is it really that hard?!"
"It doesn't matter what I do in my free time off campus! You don't see me questioning you where you're going whenever you leave campus, do you?! So why the fuck should I have to tell you shit if you won't tell me shit either?!" Jolyne spat, throwing her arms up in the air as Hajime's frustration manifested into a sneer.
"Because you never ask!"
"I shouldn't have to fucking ask! And I don't, because I trust you! I trust that you won't go and fuck some other girl or a guy, for that matter. I trust that you won't go to some fucking strip club in a red light district with your guy friends, either. Are you saying you don't trust me?"
"Don't you dare turn this on me!"
"Answer me, Hajime, do you trust me?!"
"Jolyne, I swear to God—"
"Answer me, damnit! Do you—"
"NO! NO I DON'T!" Hajime shouted, causing Jolyne to flinch. "I mean, seriously, how can I? The last time I trusted you not to do something stupid, you killed yourself! You died! I mean, yeah, you came back, but that doesn't fucking matter!"
"Hajime—"
"NO, shut up, and listen!" Hajime spat, interrupting Jolyne, his frustration building to a crescendo, before he let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you have any idea how badly that fucked me up?! I was so beyond the point of devastated I felt hollow inside! I felt like a dead man walking! Then, I come to find out you somehow lived, and then not even a week later, you get shot in the head! Do you not understand how fucked that is?!"
"I thought I had lost you! Twice! In the same fucking month! You were bleeding in my arms! You looked dead! I didn't even care that Natsumi was going to shoot me in the head! As far as I was concerned, you died, again, and I had nothing to live for! Then, you came back, again! You came back, and you killed our classmate, which fucked me up even more, because I never expected to see you, someone who I knew to be a pacifist, kill someone! And then you did it again, and again, and god-knows how many other times. Granted—and I'll give you this—they were killing others, but still!"
"And then—and then!" Hajime paused, chuckling to himself, his eyes getting watery, "Then you start disappearing. You vanish for hours at a time. I can't contact you, I can't call you, or anything. Every time that happens, I get this horrible feeling in my stomach, thinking that you're gone. Then you re-appear, pretend as if nothing happened, and I gain a sense of relief knowing that you're okay… But… It's hard. It's really fucking hard…"
"And, and… the worst part? You never tell me anything. I never ask, and you never say anything. You just pretend that you never left, and act like everything's fine. I… I—" Hajime stopped himself, his breathing hitching as he choked back tears. "And I can't pretend, anymore. I really can't, and it fucking sucks! It's not okay for you to just disappear! At least I tell you I'm going out. At least I tell you I'm heading out for a bit. But you? You just vanish, and it's not fair!"
"I know that I'm supposed to trust you. I get it, I really get it. But it's hard for me to trust you when you don't communicate with me," Hajime continued, his voice breaking every few words, trying to keep composure as he spoke. "And… And I won't lie… There were a few times that I thought—and I really shouldn't have—but I thought that you might've been cheating on me. I mean, I know you wouldn't, but when you don't say anything, and you vanish into thin-air, it leaves me to think that you're hiding something."
"A-And then, you know, what happened with The Kuzuryu Clan… I… I didn't really know what to say after that. The whole "you not wanting to talk about it" and… At that point I just, gave up. I resigned myself knowing that you weren't going to talk about it, at all… And I… I'll admit, I stopped trusting you. I started doubting you. I… I know shouldn't have, but… I mean… can you blame me? Can you really blame me for not trusting you? After everything I've just said? Like, you get it, don't you? I'm not talking to a brick wall, am I?"
Jolyne just stared. She didn't say a thing, her expression in a caught state of flabbergasted, frustrated, but most of all, and more importantly, upset. She was upset, because, honestly? She never thought about it like that. She never thought about it from his perspective—never considered for a moment what it would've been like his shoes.
And the fact that it took an entire argument to force her to listen…
"I'm sorry…"
"Huh?"
"I said: I'm sorry," Jolyne stated, her lips formed into a thin line as she stared at the floor. "I never… I never thought about it like that—and I should have, really, I should have, but I didn't, and I… I…" She paused, shaking her head. "It's not an excuse. I should've thought about you more. I should've considered your feelings, but I didn't. I thought… I thought I could just… move on. Put it to the wayside and ignore it—pretend like it never happened. But… I never once thought about you, only myself."
Jolyne approached Hajime as she grabbed his hands, squeezing just tight enough to give him some form of assurance as she met his gaze. "I'm a selfish asshole, and I'm sorry—really, truly, honestly sorry. I should've listened to you the first time, I should've never disregarded your feelings like I did, and you're right, I do need to communicate with you more. I'm entirely in the wrong, and you have every right to be mad at me right now. I promise, I'll make it up to you."
Hajime didn't say anything, but he did nod. Jolyne wiped the tears out of his eyes, before hugging him, resting her head on his chest. Without hesitation, he reciprocated the hug, holding her tight, and for the next two minutes, neither of them moved an inch. It was only after Jolyne let go and took a step back that she realized that someone was missing.
Blinking a couple of times, she looked behind Hajime, and stared at the blank space where Kotoko was sitting. "Um… Stupid question. But, where's Kotoko?"
"Huh?" Hajime muttered, looking around, before his eyes honed in on the bedroom door. "Oh…"
"We were so caught up in our stuff that we—"
"—didn't think of Kotoko," Hajime finished Jolyne's sentence, as Jolyne walked over to the door. She put her ear to the door, and from inside, she could hear faint whimpering and sniffling, and it made Jolyne's heart break. "Do you…?"
"Yeah, I'll handle it," Jolyne said, the tension in her soldiers relieving, even if only slightly. Slowly, she opened the door, creaking it open just an inch to peer into the room. There Kotoko was, laying on the bed, her head smushed between the pillows as she sobbed silently. She was shaking—scared, like anyone in her situation would've been.
"Kotoko?" Jolyne said, her voice strained by otherwise attempting to sound calming. Jolyne saw Kotoko glance over at her, as she sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping her distance, placing her hand just close enough to Kotoko—a silent offer, but one that wasn't taken. "Are you mad at me?"
"You made Dad scream…" Kotoko murmured.
"Hajime's your Dad now, is he?" Jolyne joked as Kotoko frowned.
"You made Dad scream..." Kotoko repeated, clearly not taking the bait of the joke. Jolyne knew, in the back of her head, that it wouldn't have worked like that.
"I know, Big Sis made a mistake…"
"No. Mom, made a mistake," Kotoko corrected, sitting up as Jolyne blinked, a bit taken aback.
"You think of me as Mom, now?" Jolyne asked as Kotoko nodded.
"Mom's take care of their daughter's, right…? You take care of me… Big Sister's just watch over siblings. You take care of me. Dad takes care of me. So, that makes you Mom and Dad. B-But, you made Dad scream, and Mom was screaming, and both of you were screaming, and I, I, thought that, someone was gonna get hurt, and I… I didn't want to be around for it, but then… then you got louder, and Dad got louder, and you were both saying mean things, and I thought, I—" Kotoko started choking back sobs, tears whirling up in her eyes as she tried to suppress them, wiping at her eyes as she tried to continue talking, only to fail in both regards.
Jolyne didn't even so much as hesitate to embrace Kotoko, slowly rubbing her back as Kotoko latched onto her, as if she was clinging on to some form of life support, burying her face into her shoulder. Whenever Kotoko cried, it made Jolyne want to cry as well, but she did her best not to.
"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay, Kotoko, I'm here. Dad's just beyond the door. Everything's alright, nothing bad is happening. It was just a big misunderstanding."
"I-I thought you were going to leave again," Kotoko said through sobs, her voice wobbly and strained, barely intelligible, though Jolyne was able to understand her, even if it was muffled. And it was what she said that made Jolyne's non-existent heart shatter.
Much like Hajime, Kotoko didn't like it when she vanished either. Except, with Kotoko, it was probably even worse for her, because Kotoko had literally no one else to go to—though Hajime may now be that exception, even still, Jolyne had been the one to save her. Jolyne had been the one who took her out of the horrible situation she had been in.
So for her to just suddenly disappear… For her to go to some random dungeon without saying anything and expecting everything to be fine….
Once again, she had only ever thought of herself—her own ego and selfishness overtaking her need for being with the people who she called a family.
"This isn't a game… This is real life. My actions affect the people around me, and I can't pretend that they don't anymore."
"I'll never, ever abandon you guys. Ever. Don't ever think that for a second," Jolyne said, her tone of voice soft, comforting—or at least an attempt to make it sound that way. The reality was that she wasn't exactly convinced by her own words. Because the truth was, at some point, there would come a time where she would have no choice.
Where Loki would strip her away from them.
Where everything that she built in this world would be snatched away for his amusement.
She would be damned if she allowed that to happen.
As Kotoko pulled away from her, the two looked into the others eyes, and as Jolyne brushed a hand through Kotoko's hair, Kotoko spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You promise?"
"I promise," Jolyne said with finality. "And you know what? Here's what I'll do," Jolyne continued as she laid her hand flat against the bed, palm facing toward the ceiling as Kotoko looked on in confusion. That was when Jolyne took one of her clawed fingers, and very carefully carved out a heart shape within the palm of her hand.
Kotoko gasped "Mom—"
"I'm fine, Kotoko," Jolyne interrupted, finishing the heart shape as the flesh where she carved it out scarred instantly, the blood from the wound levitating into the palm of her other hand, as she willed it to transform into a tiny, pink bow. Jolyne then placed that bow on the left side of Kotoko's bangs, making sure it fit perfectly. "Now, we both have something to remind ourselves of what's important."
"B-But, you hurt yourself…"
"Oh, Kotoko. It didn't hurt at all. It might've looked painful, but believe me, it really wasn't," Jolyne said, before placing a hand on her shoulder. "And I mean it, Kotoko. I will never, ever, abandon you or Hajime. Someone would have to kill me in order for that to happen, and not a lot of things in this world can."
It was at that point that she felt a vibrating sensation from within her inventory. Her phone was ringing. "Shit, right, I'm supposed to meet with Lucifer…" Jolyne thought, sighing, taking her hand off of Kotoko. "Hold on, I just need to answer this."
"Okay…"
Jolyne stepped away from the bed, taking her phone out of her inventory and exited the room. She mouthed to Hajime that her boss was calling her, which he understood to mean to be quiet. As soon as she answered the phone, with her best enthusiastic voice that she could muster at the moment, she spoke. "Hello, Jolyne speaking."
"Ah! Jolyne! Just the person who I wanted to hear from." Lucifer's voice came out from the other end of the phone, though she could tell his voice was less than enthused and more strained—forced. "By any chance, did Loki ask you to meet me at the memorial site in Hiroshima?"
Jolyne nervously chuckled. "H-He did, sir. I just went to stop by at my house to let my, uh, family know. It, um… kinda derailed."
"Derailed? How?" Lucifer questioned, as Jolyne bit the inside of her cheek. She really didn't need her boss to know about her familial disputes. It was already bad enough she was more than likely—no, scratch that, definitely late, but it would even more embarrassing if he knew more than she wanted him to know.
So, she did the best thing that she could, and told him a half-truth—not a complete lie, after all, what with one of his monikers being "The Prince of Lies" he could probably spot it from a mile away, so it was best to leave enough truth within so as to not tip him off, assuming that was even possible.
"Oh, you know… Disagreements over certain things. One thing led to another and, well, a screaming match got involved, and… uh… yeah…" Jolyne said, scratching the back of her neck as she chuckled nervously. "B-But! I'm on my way. I'm so sorry for being late I—"
"Nah, I get it. Trust me, family's more important. Take it from me, I am a father, after all. See ya in a bit." And then, Lucifer hung up. Jolyne felt her nerves cool after he hung up, but that didn't alleviate the pressure that she had been feeling.
"You're heading somewhere?" Hajime asked as Jolyne nodded.
"Yeah. Hiroshima Memorial Site. My Boss—"
"Mr. Lucifer called you?" Kotoko spoke up from the doorway to her bedroom, her eyes wide and sparkly. "Can I come! Please? Pretty please! I haven't seen Mr. Lucifer in forever!"
"Mr…. Lucifer? Is that some sort of code name?" Hajime asked as Jolyne pinched the bridge of her nose. Well, she figured that if she was going to start being more honest with Hajime, then what better way to start then by telling him that she worked for the literal devil from the Bible.
"Well, hopefully, this doesn't backfire…" Jolyne thought, clearing her throat as she turned to fully face him. "So, you know how Loki brought me back to life, right? My memories in exchange for my new set of powers, yeah?"
"Yes, I remember that."
"Okay, so, one of the things that happened as a result was that I was forced to essentially become what could best be described as someone who fulfills contracts for… ya know… The Devil?" There was a long, drawn out pause between that, and what she said next. "Ya know… from the Bible?"
Hajime stared at her, blinking multiple times in a row, before finally, after what felt like forever, he spoke up. "Okay, you know what? I think my brain is having a hard time registering what it was you just said. Are you telling me that, on top of working for Loki—a God from the Norse Pantheon, of which I know very little of, mind you—you also work for The Devil."
"That's correct."
"You, my wonderful, beautiful, gentle, caring, and lovely girlfriend Jolyne Brooks, work for two of the most notorious, evil, scheming, violent God-like figures in the universe."
"Nailed it on the head. Dead center, too."
Hajime dragged the palm of his hand down the lower portion of his face as he took in all the information gathered, before nodding to himself, putting his hands in his pockets, and whistling. "Welp, ya know what that sounds like to me? That sounds like I'm going to go to bed." As Hajime said that, he scooted Kotoko out of the doorway, smiled, then promptly, and quietly closed the door.
Jolyne stared at the door, frowning. "Well, that could've gone way worse…"
"You didn't answer my question. Can I come?" Kotoko asked as Jolyne shook her head.
"No, Kotoko, you can't. This is strictly business related. I'm sorry," Jolyne said as Kotoko pouted, puffing out her cheeks as she crossed her arms. Jolyne giggled, patting Kotoko on the head as embarrassment took up Kotoko's expression. That was when Kotoko remembered something, a small smile tugging at her lips. "But, you know what, I do have something for you."
"Wait, really?" Kotoko said as Jolyne smiled.
"Yes, I do," and as Jolyne said that, she pulled out both the Knight Killer and Kasaka's Venom Fang. Handing them both to Kotoko handle first, Kotoko took the two daggers and stared at them, eyebrow raised. "You remember when I started training you at the start of the semester?"
"Uh huh… I wasn't very adorbs. You're not a nice teacher…" Kotoko murmured, frowning.
"I know, but you're faster, stronger, and your reflex's are better for it, right? Because before, you couldn't do this—" and just as Jolyne said that, she swung a punch at Kotoko—albeit not as fast as usual—only for Kotoko to drop Knight Killer and catch her fist instantly, the force of the punch being more than enough for Jolyne to have shook the entire building had Kotoko not caught it.
"That was weaker than usual," Kotoko pointed out as Jolyne smirked.
"Well, yeah. I didn't want to hurt you," Jolyne said, pulling her fist away as Kotoko picked Knight Killer back up. Jolyne smiled, snapping her fingers as, at the cost of about 20,000 Yen, she manifested a pair of dagger holders and gave them to Kotoko, who instinctively hooked them to her belt, sliding the two weapons into them.
The reason for Kotoko's strength increase was not only because Jolyne had been training her ever since the beginning of the last semester, but, because, during that training, her NPC level had increased drastically. When Jolyne had first met Kotoko, she had an NPC level of 10, which made sense, given that she was a child.
But, now? Kotoko had grown exponentially. Not only just because Jolyne had been training her, but also because she wanted to make sure that Kotoko could handle herself, and as such, had gone out of her way to ensure that she had the means to defend herself if she needed to.
[Kotoko Utsugi, Daughter of Duality]
[Level: 120]
[HP: 29,500]
[Mana: 6,000]
[Equipment: Knight Killer (Legendary), Kasaka's Venom Fang (Legendary), Blood Bowtie (Epic), Standard Clothing (Common)]
[Known Spells: Ratio (Legendary), Body Density Increase (Rare), Heal Pulse (Rare)]
[Acquired Perks: Faux Innocence (Mythic), Charm (Rare)]
[Acquired Traits: Indomitable Human Spirit (Cosmic)]
[Opinion of you: Protector, Mother, Trusts you deeply]
Due to Kotoko being someone who she was close to, she could see what it was that she had on her when Mono analyzed her. Notably, while all of her spells and equipment Jolyne had given her, her Perks and Traits had already been there. Out of all of them, though, Indomitable Human Spirit was by far the most unique one.
Indomitable Human Spirit, when boiled down to its basics, allowed Kotoko to quadruple her physical capabilities, but only when near death. Faux Innocence gave her an aura of someone who was easily dismissed, and Charm worked exactly as it sounded. She could charm just about anyone, save for people of the same gender as her—a side of effect of her so-called "upbringing" by her so-called "mother."
As for her spells, the most interesting one that she had was Ratio. Apparently, it came from Universe 66641317, aka some place called The Cursed Universe, or "Jujutsu Kaisen" and it's original user was someone by the name of Nanami Kento. It allowed Kotoko to forcibly make a weak spot on her target, visualizing as a line dividing the body into tenths, and accurately dotting a weak spot on the body, forcing what was effectively a critical hit, and doing an insane amount of damage.
Then, there was Body Density Increase which doubled her physical defence, and Heal Pulse was exactly what it sounded like. A pulse of healing magic that healed Kotoko. It couldn't recover lost limbs, though as the description of the spell had made extremely clear.
And while level 120 was insane, she was, at the end of the day, classified as an NPC. So even if she had an insane amount of HP, and even if she was strong, she was still just a regular human. One wrong move, one wrong attack taken in the wrong spot, and she was dead. She didn't have the assuredness of being a System User.
But even still, Jolyne could prepare her for what was to come. She had even done so with Hajime, as well, although she could double check his equipment and abilities later, i.e., when she got back from talking with Lucifer.
"I know…" Kotoko said, sighing. "When are you going to save my friends?"
"Right…" Jolyne thought, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of her face. Loathe as she was to admit it, she may or may not have forgotten about that. She had been so caught up with other things that she had pushed it into a further recess of her mind.
That was when she got an idea.
"Why don't you?" Jolyne suggested as Kotoko was taken aback.
"Huh? B-but, you said!—
"I know what I said, but…" Jolyne paused, searching for the right words, until she finally came up with—hopefully—a good answer. "I'm extremely busy nowadays. Mr. Lucifer has a job for me, I already know it, and from what I'm aware, it's not exactly a short one either. Besides, it'll put all that training I gave you to good use, right?"
Kotoko frowned, crossing her arms as she looked away. Although, after a few seconds, and after what appeared to be a hint of realization, Kotoko unfolded her arms, her eyes widened, and a smile appeared on her face. "Oh! That's what you were training me for, wasn't it?!"
Jolyne smiled as Kotoko had a giddy look in her eyes. Jolyne had known that Kotoko hated feeling like a bystander, unable to do anything without help. Aside from wanting to assure her safety, her other reason for training Kotoko was so that she could help her friends. Not only was she closer to them, but they would allow her to help them more than a stranger.
"I promise I'll make sure to help them! I'll give them all a happy ending!" Kotoko exclaimed as Jolyne felt a warmth in her chest—pride, she reasoned. To think, this was the same scared, defenceless girl that she had met just a few months ago. It was funny, really, how a change of environment and people quickly shaped a child's mind.
"That's my girl," Jolyne said, before looking out the window. It was starting to get dark, and Jolyne could tell that Lucifer was more than likely getting impatient. "Okay, I'll be back. Be good, if you need Hajime just wake him up. You know my phone number, I won't be long."
"Okay, Mom…" Kotoko said, as Jolyne was a few seconds away from leaving through the front door. But, just before she could…. "I love you."
Jolyne froze for a second, looking over her shoulder back at Kotoko, who seemed slightly embarrassed for saying what she did. Jolyne smiled from ear to ear, silently laughing to herself. "I love you too, Ko-chan." And with that, Jolyne left the apartment, exited the dormitory building, sprouted her wings, and made her way to Hiroshima.
The flight was rather short lived—being able to fly at Mach 2 assured that—and when she made it to the memorial site, landing with the elegance of a swan, she caught Lucifer Morningstar, her other Boss, sitting on a nearby bench, throwing out bird seed to what appeared to be a family of ducks.
To describe Lucifer Morningstar would be to not describe what people usually depicted him as. When one thought "Lucifer Morningstar" they thought of a half man, half goat with black wings and curled horns with red skin. And while that was one of the forms he could take, the form that he typically took was one more akin to his pre-fallen appearance.
Lucifer was a slender, albeit short, fallen angel with a relatively pale complexion and rosy-cheeks. He had short, slicked back blonde hair with light coral streaks mixed in, alongside paler-blonde highlights. His eyes were a deep shade of red, with yellow sclera, and extremely tiny pupils.
His mouth was full of razor sharp teeth, which gave way to his true nature as a fallen angel rather than that of what he used to be. In addition, his eyelids were purple for some reason or another. Typically, he wore a hat, but for this occasion, he seemed to lack it. He also lacked his usual attire, too, having opted to go for a more "normal" appearance. He was dressed in a white and black striped shirt with a pair of black jeans, held up by a pair of red suspenders, and finally a pair of black knee-height heeled boots.
Just as he finished throwing one last handful of bird seed, he spotted Jolyne approaching, prompting him to smirk. "Took your sweet time," Lucifer quipped as Jolyne bowed, arms at her sides, bent forward, and head lowered.
"My apologies, sir. Like I said, I was dealing with familial issues. It won't happen again," Jolyne replied as Lucifer waved a dismissive hand in her direction.
"Relax, kid, you don't have to get all worked up. It's not the first time one of my dread knights was late to a meeting. Hell, some times even I'm late, so I'd be a hypocrite to demand that of someone if I myself can't be always on time," Lucifer said as Jolyne stood up straight, a wave of relief washing over her.
"Thank you, sir."
"And what did I tell you about calling me "sir", I told you to either call me Lucifer or Luci. Sir is too formal, and it drives me up the bend," Lucifer chastised as Jolyne nodded.
"Right, my bad, Lucifer."
"See, now that's better," Lucifer said, sitting up straight as he fixed his collar and re-adjusted his suspenders. "Now then, straight to business. First things first, the meeting between myself and our little benefactor went… well, I would say swimmingly, but it was more like I had my arm twisted behind my back. That being said, you've been given access to the world that I need you to hunt contracts in, so that's all that matters."
"Wait… world? As in… I have to leave here?!" Exclaimed as Lucifer raised a calming hand in her direction.
"Only temporarily. Two weeks, at best, and a month at worst, so it's not like you'll be gone forever. Although, I will warn you, time dilation is a thing. Luckily, both of these worlds happen to be near The Core, so that means the time difference will be a few hours at most. I can't say that will be the same for other worlds, though." As Lucifer explained, Jolyne's expression knit into that of worry.
The last thing that she wanted, especially after having just told both Hajime and Kotoko that she wouldn't disappear again, was to be made to disappear again. Only this time, it was for an extended period of time. Lucifer, seeming to pick up on her worry, frowned. "Lemme guess, your family issue was about you vanishing when you do your dungeons? And, if I were to extend that assumption, your worried this will have an even worse impact?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Not like I have much of a choice, though," Jolyne replied as Lucifer shrugged.
"Pretty much. Best you can do is tell them in advance. That little kid of yours knows who I am and what my deal is. You live with your boyfriend now, right? So just let me meet him, and if he has a problem with it, than that's on him," Lucifer said rather bluntly, earning a frown from Jolyne—not that she said anything in reply—as Lucifer continued.
"Okay, so, you have two objectives while you're in this world—and you will be visiting it repeatedly, not just the once, although that's primarily for the secondary objective. Your main one, however, will only require this trip. You'll be taken to that world's version of Chicago, Illinois, and in that city, there are twelve contracts you need to collect on. Once you're done with that, I'll have you transported out of that world. With each contract collected, you'll get a reward, and when you get all twelve, I'll grant you access to Hellfire, which was originally the mythic tier spell that I was going to give you the last time around."
"And, what's my secondary objective?" Jolyne asked as Lucifer scowled—not aimed at her, but something else. That, however, didn't mean that it hadn't sent a chill down her spine.
"In that world, there exists a group of Fallen Angels calling themselves The Order of the Blackened Denarius. They are led by a Fallen Angel by the name of Andurial. Each of these Fallen Angels are trapped within ancient coins from the Roman period, and can only influence the world when they are within human hosts."
"To make a very long story short: During The War against Heaven, when I rebelled against my father, excluding myself and the other seven Archangels that fell alongside me, 300,000 other Angels rebelled as well. When we lost, they, alongside myself, were cast down to hell. Andurial, one of the Fallen, was furious that my plan failed. He gathered a group of loyalists and tried to overthrow me. It didn't work in his favor. As punishment, I tossed him, alongside his 29 followers, down to one of the many mortal worlds. The world in question just so happened to be the one that you're heading to right now."
"Their fates were to be imprisoned within denarii—the Roman currency at the time—specifically the 30 silver pieces that were given to Judas during The Betrayal of Jesus Christ. But, like the parasites that they are, they leeched onto human souls, and are trying to cause havoc in my name; My Name! Do you understand how frustrating that is?! I'm the lord of deception and lies, that's true, but I would never endorse things like The Genocide of The Human Race. I have standards, ya know? Kinda need people to trick and sinners to sort in order to do my part, right?"
Sighing after his long-winded rant, rubbing the temples of his head, Lucifer continued. "Look, they're not exactly important right now. But! I'll have Mono install a Denarian Radar so that if you're near one, you'll know where they are, and so that you can dispose of them. Due to what it is you are, you won't have to worry about them trying to possess you, either. Being a System User prevents you from having any form of mind magics effect you."
"I… didn't know that," Jolyne said as Lucifer huffed.
"Of course, ya didn't. Well, the only exception is Frenzy—even Gods can be affected by it—but things like mental suggestion, hypnosis, mental attacks, memory alteration, basically anything to do with the mind, you and those who are like you, even the regulars, are immune." As Lucifer said that, he frowned. "And just a fair warning. Even though this universe is, much like this one, weak in comparison to you, that does not mean that you should let your guard down. Unlike here, in that world, trickery is key, as is planning. While you can go in guns blazing, it's not a good idea."
"Oh, and another thing. I'm gonna give you a list. That list is a list of people who you cannot, for any reason, kill. I don't care how much they frustrate you, I don't care how much they make you want to tear your eyes out, you are not allowed to directly kill them, you understand?" Lucifer stressed as Jolyne nodded.
"I understand."
"Good. Now, here's the list—I'll even have Mono make a digital copy for you to have at all times. Pay attention, it goes: Harry Copperfield Blackstone Dresden, Karrin Murphy, The Entire Carpenter Family new and old, Susan Rodriquez, Waldo Butters, John Marcone, Thomas Raith, Father Forthill, Lydia, Mavra, The Leanansidhe, Justine, Donald Morgan, The Merlin, and Ebenezer McCoy. Everyone else is completely free game. Do with that what you will."
Just as Lucifer finished that sentence, in her peripheral vision, the exact same list in numbered format appeared. Dismissing the list from her view, Lucifer hummed to himself, before standing up and stretching. "I'll give you an hour to tell your headmaster and family that'll you be leaving for at most a month. They won't be able to contact you, though, so they'll be completely disconnected. Even the mental link won't function properly. Just figured I'd let you know."
"Wait… the mental link won't work? B-But I—" before Jolyne could finish her sentence, Lucifer was already gone, and the frustration that Jolyne had been feeling since the moment she came back from the Boss Dungeon continued to build on itself.
First, it's Loki.
Second, it's Hajime—deservedly so, but it didn't help with earlier.
Finally, it's Lucifer.
Of all the days, why did it have to be constant, back to back, bullshit. The next person she see's, and if they so much as annoy her—
"Hey, nice tits!" A random stranger called out, walking with a couple of their guy friends—three, to be exact, who were all laughing. They were dressed as if they had just came back from some kind of school. Probably studying late. Jolyne's right eye twitched, and with a snap of her fingers, all four of their heads exploded in a shower of blood and ichor.
It was… strangely relieving—which was something that she should not have been thinking, because those four had done nothing wrong. Cat calling her, sure, but nothing obscene. By then, though, it didn't matter. She had already sprouted her wings, and flew back to the dorms.
Today was shaping up to be one of those days….
[-To Be Continued-]
[Ending Song: request – by: krage]
Notes:
So, yeah. That's that. Originally, I planned to continue the chapter past this point, but I decided for my own sanity that I would stop it here. Honestly, the fact that I'm posting something right now is insane due to how shitty I'm feeling. But hey! The world marches on.
I'm going to skip response to reviews/comments this time. I just want to go to bed and stay there. So, until next time. Have a good one, everyone. I'll see ya'll in the next one. Peace out!
Chapter 5: Chapter 3: Pushing Forward, For We Have No Other Choice
Notes:
I don't have much to really say for this one. I'll be frank, as of writing this, I am still ungodly sick, but I am getting better. However, my crushing boredom and my lack of updating this story as gotten me to the point where I am going to fight through this writers block and crippling sickness to write it, goddamnit!
Anyway, jokes aside, I'm sure you all saw the chapter count by now, and how it's longer than Book One (32 instead of 27) and that's because of how much I need to cover in this book. Five extra chapters might not seem like a lot, but those five extra chapters will be needed.
Now then, with that being said: Response to reviews/comments will be at the end (for real this time) and, without further adieu…
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – by: GRANRODEO]
"And there I lied, staring up at the sky, my blade in hand, my breathing tight, and my eyes ablaze with power. I, alone, conquered a Lower Rank. It was that day I was granted my title of Thunder Hashira; not that I wanted it, but it was all but forced upon me. When I told my family—the people who brought me in, a small group of three, my little brother in everything but blood, alongside my master, they were both proud of me. But the other one wasn't. Not that I cared. I knew what was going to happen with him, and I plan to stop it from happening." Diary Entry of The Spawn of Raiden.
[Chapter 3: Pushing Forward, For We Have No Other Choice]
"You're leaving?" Hajime asked, his tone incredulous as Jolyne stood across from him, her expression as neutral as she could make it. "We just talked about this!"
"Do you think I have a choice?" Jolyne replied, remaining calm. "Lucifer… he wants me to do a job elsewhere. I won't be back for, at worst, a month. At best? Two weeks."
"What?!" Hajime exclaimed, eyes wide, expression taut with nothing but anger. "You have to be kidding me, is this some kinda sick joke? 'Cause if it is, it's not funny!" As Hajime said that, Jolyne continued to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of her head, telling her that confronting and talking to Hajime about this first had been a mistake.
Hajime was already worked up over their last argument, and the last thing that she wanted was to start another one—especially with Kotoko being in the room, who had been looking at the two with an amount of concern that should not have been possible for a child her age. Yet, even still, that didn't change the fact that this—all of this—was mainly her fault.
If she had been forthcoming to begin with, then this conversation, or at the very least the tone of it, wouldn't be like this. That being said, it didn't mean that she was in the mood to have yet another argument.
"Hajime, we're not doing this again. I get that you're mad; you have every right to be mad—"
"Damn right I do!"
"But—"
"But nothing!" Hajime interrupted, huffing aggressively, which made Jolyne flinch. "No more disappearing, no more leaving, I don't care who says what, or what says who, I am not going to lose you again!" Hajime demanded as Jolyne stood across from him, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. They stared at one another, neither breaking eye contact. Jolyne did not have the time, nor did she have the patience to deal with this right now.
She was already on a razor-thin wire in terms of her sanity after the continuous stream of bullshit that she had to deal with over the course of the last hour and a half. If she was pushed any further, she was going to do something she was going to regret later, and she knew it.
Technically, she already had with that mountain and those four school boys who had cat-called her. It was still gnawing at her. The death that she had caused for the sake of her curiosity. She hadn't even thought twice about it. She just… did it.
It felt like instinct—which was becoming more and more common as the days went by. At the slightest annoyance, her first instinct was to kill, and it was concerning her deeply. The only people who were made the exception for that, were Hajime, Kotoko, and her classmates and upperclassmen.
But that aside, the last thing she needed to be right now, was to be distracted from the topic at hand. If she could just convince Hajime that it would be all better in the end, then maybe, just maybe, he would back off. Maybe he would calm down.
"Hajime. You do not get to control me like that. That's also ignoring the fact that I, again, do not have a choice."
"Fuck that, of course you have a choice, you're just not making the right one," Hajime stated, frowning.
"Hajime, babe, listen to me, okay? Look, I get it, we've all had a bad day. Both of us, but please, I need you to trust me," Jolyne said as Hajime's nostril's flared, and just as he was about to say something, Jolyne raised her hands in a placating manner. "N-Now I know… I know that I shouldn't be asking that from you. But seriously. Think of Kotoko. Think about how she would feel—"
"Yeah, well, maybe you should do that too," Hajime spat, his frown transforming into a scowl. : I bet she's just as upset as I am. You just said, that you weren't going to disappear. Then, not even, what, ten, twenty minutes later, you come back here and say you're leaving? Again? I mean what the fucking hell! Whoever's dick your sucking must be pretty damn good—"
"EXCUSE YOU?!" Jolyne shouted, and she had to contain every fiber in her body to not tear his throat out for saying that. "How dare you! I just told you my Boss—the guy where I get all my money from—is sending me away to do a goddamn job. It's somewhere in the twelve digit range, and your accusing me of whoring myself out?! In front of Kotoko?! Are you fucking insane, Hajime?!"
"And how the hell am I supposed to believe that?!"
"I have been nothing but fucking loyal to you," Jolyne shouted, jabbing her pointer finger at his chest, pushing with enough force to make him stagger backward a little. Jolyne's breath hitched, as she sighed. "I could've chosen not to, you know. Could've ignored that call all those months back. Could've told you to go fuck yourself and leave you high and dry. But instead, I put my own problems aside, my own issues, my own difficulties, my own trauma, of fucking killing myself, to help you, you piece of shit!"
At this point, Jolyne had nearly fallen into full on tears. She didn't need this right now. She really didn't need this right now. All she wanted was for this to be done. So that she could just get on with her life.
He was doing what all men did—or at least a majority of them—when their egos had been hurt. He was trying to make himself feel better by putting down someone else. But, it didn't make sense, especially from who it was that it was coming from. The Hajime from a few months ago would've never, ever, ever said anything like this. So what gives? What was the difference? What changed?
Sniffling, wiping at her eyes, Jolyne reigned herself in as Hajime continued to glare at her—continued to try and look more imposing than her….
She could just… knock his jaw off.
Right here, right now.
It wouldn't be that hard.
But she was better than that. She was better than this… this asshole who looked and sounded like Hajime.
"W-What… What the hell did I do, to deserve this shit?" Jolyne spat, her voice cracking under barely contained emotion. "I mean… seriously, what the hell have you done? I bring money here. I pay for your clothes. I pay for your guns. I pay for your fucking doctors appointments when Mikan is too busy. I pay for your everything, and I need to work to do that. So how the hell can you stand here, and act like I'm the bad guy here?"
"I-I mean, do you even hear yourself? D-Do you even know what you're saying? Or are you so irrationally pissed, that you're thinking with that two inch penis between your fucking legs?" Jolyne spat, glancing over to Kotoko, who was rapidly texting… someone. She pushed that aside, sighed shakily, and looked Hajime in the eyes, a desperate gleam within as she spoke.
"Look, Hajime. Please. Can we drop this? I'm… I'm really not in the mood for this right now. If you're really that mad at me, then, I don't fucking know, go sleep in your dorm or, fuck, call up Nekomaru and go work off your anger at the gym. I need to go tell Headmaster Kirigiri what's happening, and then I'm gone."
"I'm telling you, right now, that if you leave, I'm done."
"What?" Jolyne said, confusion lacing her tone, her voice strained from all the yelling as Hajime's scowl deepened.
"You heard what I said. If you leave to go to wherever it is that you're about to go to, I'm done. Finished. We're breaking up. I'm not doing this anymore. If you can't stop for even one day doing whatever it is you do when you leave, then I can't be with you." As Hajime said that, Jolyne stared at him, incredulous, before finally letting out a small, barely audible chuckle. "What's so funny?"
"What's funny?" Jolyne asked, shaking her head. That was it. That was the line. All of that other shit? Yeah, it was bad. It was really fucking bad. But even after trying to appeal to reason, even after trying to defuse the situation, giving him an out to go fuck off else where and cool down, and for him to still be on his high horse?
No.
Just… fucking no.
"What's funny, is that I don't know what's worse? The fact that you think I can tell The Devil—the actual, real life, honest to God and to all that is Holy Lucifer Morningstar—No. Or, that you're saying you're going to break up with me because you think, in all your collected, clearly infinite and unquestionable wisdom, I can. Are you being serious right now? Because if you are, Hajime Hinata, I swear to God you picked the wrong day to push my buttons."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Hajime spat, and just before Jolyne could say anything, a gasp reverberated out from nowhere as Kotoko was lifted off the ground and placed on the shoulders of a newcomer. Dapper was he dressed—the same stuff he had been wearing when Jolyne met up with him at the memorial—and with a large, pointed smile and gleaming red eyes, Lucifer—who appeared out of nowhere—looked Hajime in the eyes, as his smile widened ever-so-slightly.
"So! You're Hajime? Jolyne's told me so much about you—all positive, of course, but… hmmm, I don't know, what I'm looking at and hearing right now tells me otherwise," Lucifer said as Kotoko giggled.
"Mr. Lucifer! Please get Mom and Dad to stop arguing," Kotoko asked as Lucifer hummed.
"Of course, of course!"
"How did you get here? When did you get here?" Jolyne questioned as Lucifer laughed again, as Hajime stared at him, a mix of confusion, annoyance, and anger burning behind his eyes. But, before Hajime could say anything, Lucifer continued.
"Kotoko has my contact information on her smartphone. She texted me, told me you two were being stupid, and while I technically have more important stuff to do, said important stuff is boring as sin, and I think this is much more entertaining." As Lucifer said that, he took Kotoko off his shoulders and placed her on the couch. When he did, he turned to face Hajime, and frowned. "Now, you're coming with me."
"Huh—"
Before Hajime could say a word, Lucifer grabbed him by the wrist and, in a blink and you'll miss it moment, the two vanished from the apartment. Jolyne was left to stare at the void where Hajime and Lucifer once were. She didn't know where the two went, but, her hope, was that Lucifer could maybe convince Hajime to stop being so… erratic.
The idea of Hajime breaking up with her over something so unbelievably stupid made her angry. She knew he was upset, she knew he was still trying to wrap his head around everything that was going on, but to threaten their relationship over it…? She understood that Hajime was only human, but…
"No. No excuses… No bullshit. That was unacceptable. I don't care how upset I made him, for him to say even half of what he did… That fucking bastard… That shitty, horrible, garbage piece of shit rat bastard!" Jolyne thought, curling her right hand into a fist so tight that blood trickled down her palm and down her wrist.
"Are Mom and Dad going to break up?" Kotoko asked, her voice laced with concern, as Jolyne glanced over to her. Her expression unwound from the barely kept back contempt and fury to one of pure sadness.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
None of this was supposed to happen.
Why now? Things were just fine yesterday….
And while Jolyne wanted to say for certain that the answer was "no", with everything happening all at once, the only thing that Jolyne could respond with was a simple, quiet, and uncertain "I don't know…"
For a few seconds, Jolyne sat there, staring at the ground as she let her hands droop down to her knees. Then, after sitting in silence for a few more minutes, Jolyne stood up, brushed a hand through her hair, looked over to Kotoko, and sighed.
"I'm going to go tell Kirigiri-san that I'm heading out tonight and won't be back for a while. When Hajime and Lucifer get back, call me, okay?" As Jolyne said that, she knelt down in front of Kotoko, wiped a hand over her eyes to wipe away the tears that had been forming, kissed her on the forehead, and smiled. "Just remember, no matter what, I will always, always, love you. Nothing Hajime says will change that. Got it?"
"Okay…"
"Good. I'll see you later," and with that, Jolyne stood up, walked toward the front door, and left. She had a conversation to have. Hopefully, it wouldn't be nearly as disastrous as the one she had just had.
[XXXX]
Hajime was having a bad day. A really, really bad day. He was having a good day, but then that argument with Jolyne happened, and ever since then he had been in a particularly shitty mood. To be frank, he just wanted a break. To get away from all of this. But even when Jolyne promised she wouldn't disappear again, she suddenly turns around and says that she's going to anyway.
From his perspective, it was a bunch of bullshit. Going back on her word so quickly after promising? Didn't have a choice? Another lie. She had plenty of choices, and she chose the wrong one, and frankly, she was making a mistake. She was choosing something pointless over something meaningful.
She was choosing power over him.
And then, some guy, Lucifer Morningstar or whatever, showed up in their apartment, completely uninvited, grabbed him by the wrist, and now, here he was, standing atop the roof of a skyscraper somewhere in what he believed was Tokyo. Hajime was dazed, confused, and honestly? He just wanted this to be over with already.
"Okay," Lucifer began, as Hajime turned to face him. He immediately reached for one of his gun holster's, only for Lucifer to snap his fingers as the holsters with the guns inside appeared behind Lucifer, a smirk on his face, as he kicked them even further back and out of sight. "Oh, bad move. See, most humans don't threaten a Fallen Angel with a gun, especially one of my calibre, but this once, and only this once, I'll let it slide since you're in such an emotional state right now."
"Shut up! This is your fault too, you know. If you—"
"I'mma stop you right there, cowboy," Lucifer interrupted, snapping his fingers again as, this time, Hajime's lips slammed shut, and no matter how hard he tried to speak, he couldn't. "Just so you don't interrupt me, I took away your ability to talk temporarily. Oh, and another thing," snapping his fingers again, a chair and metal chains appeared out of thin air, as Hajime was unceremoniously forced into and strapped to the chair. "This is so you don't get any ideas. Like, ya know, being stupid enough to throw hands. I know how you human men get when you're in states like this."
Hajime struggled against the chains, but after two seconds of thrashing about, unable to move, he stopped, his breathing fast and his eyes burning with anger. "Oh, come now, don't give me that look. Listen, kid, Mr. Hinata, can I call you Hajime? Whatever, just hear me out, okay? Not that you have a choice, but! Since you seem so skeptical of my knight, I think I should enlighten you on why it would be a very, very bad idea to not only talk shit about her and, also, why breaking up with her is a very bad idea. Not 'cause of what I'll do—which is nothing, by the way—but what could very well happen to everyone else."
"His knight?" Hajime thought, his frown deepening. "Whatever. I don't care… I'm not going to have my emotions toyed with. I can't do this. I won't do this…" But, seeing as he had no real choice in the matter, he listened.
"See, Dreadknights, they need something of a counterweight. After all, their job is to collect contracts that I made with others, the price of which always being their soul. That's a lot of future blood on her hands. And being a Dreadknight is a permanent job. Once you're in, you can never leave. It's kinda like marriage in the 1300s, which, woo boy was that a time to be alive," Lucifer said, standing in front of Hajime, crouching down to meet his eyes, unflinching at the frustration lurking behind them.
"You see, Jolyne, she's special. She's beyond special. That girl, she's basically a Goddess waiting to emerge from her cocoon. And I'm not saying that just to inflate her already ballooned ego, or to try and scare you, it's simply a fact with anyone who's a part of The Seven; but I doubt you know what that is, and frankly, that should be kept that way." As Lucifer said that, Hajime couldn't help but be curious.
"The Seven? Like that group from that crappy Comic from the early 2000s? Whatever. I don't care what he has to say. Fallen Angel this, Goddess that, it's a bunch of lies… It's all just a bunch of lies, made to make me afraid. Sure, Jolyne's a Vampire, that's obvious, but she's not a Goddess. This guy's probably her magic pimp, or something or another…. I should've fuckin' known. I should've fuckin' known it would end like this. What she said before was just a buncha lies…" Hajime thought as Lucifer continued.
"However, without someone to ground her, she'll become an ego maniac. She'll be high off her own power and bloodlust. She needs someone like you to stop that from happening," Lucifer explained, standing up straight, before he began to pace from left to right. "Now, you might be thinking to yourself "well, she can find someone else" and while yes, you're right, there's just one, tiny, itsy bitsy, little thing that, at least to me, should stop that line of thinking."
And just as Lucifer said that, he walked over to Hajime, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Hajime's eyes widened, as Lucifer pulled back, a devious, almost twisted smile stretching across his face. "No… No that can't be true. He's just lying, that's it, he's lying to make me back down on my decision. I will not be toyed with. I will not!"
"Now, I know you don't believe me. I can tell by looking you in the eyes. I can also tell you think I'm not who I say I am, so how about I do this." And as soon as he said that, his hair seemed to catch on fire… and then two massive red horns sprouted from his forehead with an orb of dark orange fire resting in between the tips. His eyes swapped from yellow sclera and red pupils to red sclera and yellow pupils.
Six massive red feathered wings with white pointed frames sprouted from his back. His fingers turned into red, five inch long claws that looked like they could rip off a man's face at any given time. His teeth grew larger, his height nearly doubled, and he sprouted a tail with a heart-shaped point at the end, which curled around Hajime's throat, making him wince as it squeezed.
"So, tough guy. Whaddya think now? Huh? You like this? You like my Demon form? Bet you feel so stupid right now. But wait, guess what? By the time I'm done with you, I'm gonna make you feel like human garbage. Because after what I just had to listen to for the better part of my afternoon, you're really starting to piss me off."
Lucifer then proceeded to return back to how he had been just a few moments before, clearing his throat as he adjusted his collar. "I mean, seriously. At first, I understood. You were right about it not being fair about her vanishing out of thin air. But everything else? That bullshit back there? That was just pathetic. That's why I told you what I told you. Even now, though, I can tell you think I'm lying to you."
"But see, here's the thing, I am bound by my existence as an Archangel, fallen or otherwise, to never lie. Yes, I'm aware one of my monikers is The Prince of Lies, but just because I've fallen does not mean that I lost that inscription within my very soul. Now, I can tell White Lies, which are lies with truth mixed in, but even so, it's still the truth. A variant of the truth, mind you, but the truth nonetheless."
"And because it's the truth, that means you have to accept it. Now, Jolyne doesn't know, and frankly, it's better that way—especially after all of what you just said. Like, I mean, come on, I heard you were kind and caring. Not a fucking piece of shit asshole. But then again, first impressions can sometimes be misleading," Lucifer continued, before rubbing at the sides of his temples. "That, and your lucky, because if you weren't nearly as bad as the other guy that I'm even more pissed at, I would've drilled my foot so far up your ass that you would wish that I dragged you to hell instead."
"Because, if there is one thing that I will not stand for, it's making those who work under my employ cry—or anyone that I just so happen decide that I want to be allies with. I may be The Devil, but back in my prime, I was The Archangel of Judgment. I'm the reason for the term "Judge, Jury, and Executioner." I am All The Worlds Evil manifested into a single being, not that poser who thinks he is because of some rinky-dink chalice. I am the definition of hatred and pride personified, so that anger you feel? That rage? I can tell it's just a bunch of shit you've cobbled together to give yourself the excuse not to think. And, if I were still acting as The Archangel of Judgment? I would have hung you by your entrails for the deplorable, disgusting, rancid things you said to my employee. To my knight. But Time has calmed the beast. And besides, someone else has my ire aimed at them. So, consider this a warning. You got that, asshole?"
Hajime nodded, rapidly, as Lucifer smiled. "Good. I'm glad you understand. Now, like I said, we have a bigger problem to deal with, and that problem just so happens to be Loki. And, well, with how Loki is… I can't say for certain that things will turn out okay if he catches wind about what I told you earlier. So, even if you're not willing to do this for Jolyne because of your petty shit, then at the very least, do this for your family."
Lucifer paused, exhaling slowly, looking up toward the sky, as if he was trying to get his thoughts together, before he looked back at Hajime, and forced yet another smile. "That, and, c'mon, Kotoko would be mighty upset if someone who she viewed as her father decided to walk away over something as stupid as this," Lucifer said as he snapped his fingers, giving Hajime a chance to speak.
"Petty…? Having my feelings and emotions played with is petty!? How?! All she's done for the last few months has been toying with me!" Hajime shouted as Lucifer sighed.
"Kid. I want you to use your head for five seconds, because I can tell you that is not true," Lucifer said, his voice unnervingly calm. "If she was just "toying with you" as you claim she has, I can guarantee you, that the moment you said the first incorrect thing back there, assuming that what you think is true, she would've torn your head off from your shoulders. That's just the kind of person she is. There's a reason why she naturally drifted over to the profession she has now. But, that's beside the point."
As Lucifer said that, he rolled his shoulders. Hajime glared at him, still trying to process what Lucifer had originally told him. The rational side of him—the part that had been silent up until this point—had told him what Lucifer said, both times, was true.
Maybe he was being a bit of an asshole.
Maybe… maybe he just needed to calm down….
Or, maybe, he just needed to stop taking shit from other people. Just as he was about to say as such, Lucifer continued.
"Listen, Hajime. I don't know who needs to have to point this out to you, because it should be fucking obvious, but Jolyne loves you. Adores you, even. Why, if something bad happened to you, she would tear this world apart with her bare hands to find the person who hurt you. She's absolutely crazy for you. But, at the same time, just because she loves you, does not mean that she can ignore her responsibilities."
"Fuck that! I'm more important than some measly power boost!" Hajime spat, sneering. "I'm not going to sit here and let you gaslight me. I'm not afraid of you, Devil or not, I don't give a shit. You standing there trying to scare me into staying with someone who clearly doesn't care about my mental wellbeing. I—"
"Hold your horses, pal. What you just said? That's some utter bullshit," Lucifer interrupted, his left eye twitching. "I don't know what the hell happened to get your balls in a twist like they are, or maybe you hit your head too many times at the gym, but I've been watching you two for the past two months, and for most of that time, when you weren't doing school stuff or harnessing your power, talent, or training, you two were fucking each other senseless."
"You saw—"
"I see through all of my Dreadknights, and it's not like I watched. I just had horrible timing most of the time, but that's beside the point. What I saw, heard, and bore witness to was so far beyond okay, that I don't have any idea, in what way, you thought that saying what you did was at all acceptable. Like I said, at first, you had a point—and I mean the original conversation you two had, not whatever that just was," Lucifer said, shaking his head.
"And another thing. Jolyne's job isn't just to gain another boost in power. That's a side-effect. It's purpose is to restore balance. She, along with her co-workers, tip the scales back into neutral. If she does not do her job, and restore balance, that means the end of the world as you know it, Hajime. To be frank, boy, you're being selfish," Lucifer continued, as he tapped Hajime on the forehead, nearly causing his chair to tip over slightly, only for it to come back down and for Hajime to be more than a little panicked.
He had nearly been sent over the edge, watching as cars below drove back and forth, and as people completed their nightly commute back home or to the bar. They had been so high up, they all looked like ants. A fall from this height would've killed him instantly, turning him into a blood stain on the side of the road.
Looking back over to Lucifer, who's expression had not changed from the neutral glare he had been giving him, it had become clear to Hajime that he had made a mistake. A massive mistake. But that wasn't where this ended—no. Because Lucifer wasn't done with him just yet.
"So, with all of that being said… How can you claim that Jolyne doesn't care about you, at all? I mean, she lets you use her body, when she doesn't have to? That's something only two, consenting, loving individuals do. So, pardon me if I think your assessment is a little off. Another thing…. How can you claim that Jolyne doesn't care about you, when all she does is care entirely too much about you? I mean, it's like she said, when she first arrived here, she put you before herself. She put your well being over her own. I mean, that's gotta mean something, right?"
"Or, ya know, here's another question for you: How, in the ever loving fuck, can you say that Jolyne doesn't care about you, when she tried to argue with me, the motherfucking DEVIL, about going to do her job, of which I warned her in advance about two months back, all because she was worried about you. Now, granted, I shut that shit down before it could even start, but that's not my point," Lucifer said, getting up in Hajime's face—barely even an inch apart—as he sneered.
"My point, is that after all of that. After everything that I just told you. After she promised to you to be more open and honest about what she's doing, when she does tell you, and when she tries to explain herself, you not only: refuse to listen, belittle her, accuse her of being unfaithful, and when she tries to move on from the subject so she can do her fucking job, you threaten to break up with her. Do you have any idea how bad that makes you look? I know about half a thousand sinners and demons in hell who would be more patient with their partners, than you, and those guys are scum of the Earth! So really, honestly, how stupid do you have to be?"
When Lucifer finished talking, all Hajime could do was stare. Neither said a word to one another, as a dreadful silence filled the air between the two. Hajime's anger and frustration slowly, but surely, began to die down, as rationality began to replace it, something that Lucifer noticed, and took that opportunity and spoke up again.
"Now, I get it. Really, I do. You're angry, and angry men don't think rationally, especially when they think they've been had—doubly so when you're a kid without a lot of life experience, and children are prone to make mistakes, even massive ones like this. I mean, for crying out loud, in my relationship with Lilith before she… vanished for good… we had several arguments about being there for one another. But… in the end, we always worked it out. Always made amends. Even now, even if I don't know where she is…. I still love her, because I know that, at any time, she'll come back. She always does. Even if its after a billion years, she'll return."
Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. "But I can afford that. Someone like you, though? A mortal? Not so much. And I get it. When someone who you love just up and leaves without a word, it can be upsetting, anger inducing, and turn you from what you usually are—a rational, well adjusted individual, to someone who looks, acts, and talks like a raving lunatic. It makes you ugly. Rage is a powerful emotion, but it blinds. It blinds like a burning star ready to explode, and when it finally does, it destroys everything it swore to protect."
"And… allow me to be honest. I knew about your argument with Jolyne. I knew you were already upset. I knew you were extremely close to reaching your breaking point. But, at the same time, I need Jolyne to do her job. I need her to be at that location, and I need it to be sooner rather than later."
Hajime stared at Lucifer, and in the back of his mind, he could feel his anger spiking again. Only, this time, it was directed at Lucifer. However, Hajime knew that if he got angry again, all he'd do is jump right back into the same foul mood he had been in for the last… however long it had been since the original argument.
So, instead of blowing up on Lucifer—which, honestly, sounded extremely stupid of him to have even considered—he calmed himself, exhaling slowly, before looking Lucifer in the eye, and speaking.
"So, then, if you understand, and if you were aware of the problem… why are you making Jolyne go? To me, it sounds like you were trying to separate us…" Hajime said as Lucifer huffed.
"Yeah, it looks like that. I know. But trust me, that's not why. My reason for wanting Jolyne to go now, is to get her away from Loki." Lucifer paused, looking around the surrounding area, as if to check for something, before snapping his fingers, dissolving the chains around Hajime.
Standing up from the chair, Hajime stretched his arms and legs. They had started to feel numb. When he was finished, he turned to look at Lucifer, of whom was far shorter than he had expected now that he had actually gotten a chance to look at him. But all that aside, a confused expression took up his visage.
"What about Loki? Isn't he like her real Boss or something?" Hajime asked as Lucifer nodded.
"Yes, but… Loki has a bit of a reputation. Tell me, how much of Loki Laufeyjarson do you know? How familiar are you with his story?" Lucifer questioned as Hajime frowned.
"None. All I know is that he's the God of Trickery, Deceit, and Mischief."
"So, you know the basics, then?" Lucifer said, sighing. "Hajime… Loki is what you humans would call a menace. But he's not a menace in the way you'd typically think. He doesn't just deceive, lie, and trick all for a little bit of mischief. Mischief, at least in the modern sense, means to cause a bit of trouble; playing a prank on someone. But, back in the old days, which was when he was bestowed that moniker of The God of Mischief, that word meant a whole lot more."
"What did it mean? What could a word that's tied to innocent pranks and jokes mean back "in the old days", it couldn't have been that bad," Hajime said as Lucifer mirthlessly chuckled.
"Oh, kids these days… Anyway, it meant to cause harm. To sow chaos. To hurt, maim, and do unspeakable things," Lucifer said, frowning. "Mischief was a catch all term back in the day. And I mean all the way back in the Viking Era, long before Jesus Christ or any of my ilk were considered the top dogs within humanities minds as the top religion. In fact, Norse Gods and Christian Angels and Archangels constantly were at war, but, I digress."
"Being caught doing "a little mischief" could mean anything from throwing pebbles at livestock, stealing someone's food, or drinking on the job…. To full on raping a woman for the sake of doing so," Lucifer said.
Hajime was more than a little taken aback, his face draining of colour, speechless as Lucifer continued. "So, when you are the God of such a thing, you tend to inhabit all of its traits. All of it. And Loki is no stranger to taking what he wants."
"Are you saying—"
"Loki was not aware of it, but I always keep an eye on my Dreadknights. I am always watching, and I know when they are being hurt grievously." As Lucifer said that, he shook his head. "And what I heard coming from him…. Mr. Hinata, if I hadn't contacted him to tell him to tell Jolyne to meet with me at the memorial site in Hiroshima, I have no doubt in my mind that he, and I'm not going to mince words, would have raped her right then and there. After all, Jolyne had struck him, and not a single woman that he had ever met in his life, wife, concubine, or otherwise, has ever had the balls to hurt him; and that's usually his go-too punishment for women. And with the kind of God that Loki is—different from the rest of his ilk of The Norse, as blood thirsty as they are—as you no doubt guessed, Loki is a special kind of evil."
"But that doesn't make sense," Hajime said as Lucifer stared at him, seemingly puzzled. "I mean, from everything I've read about Loki, all he really does is play tricks, right? He also started Ragnarök out of spite but he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who would do something like that, especially to a teenager!"
"Heh, tell that to his first wife," Lucifer muttered darkly, as Hajime felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Like I said, you know nothing about Loki. I'm going to correct that."
"Modern pop-culture portrays Loki as a scared, timid, frail, albeit powerful magic user born of an affair between Odin and a Frost Giant. Him being the result of an affair is the only thing that your kind got right about him. Loki is, and always will be, a monster. There is no changing that man. Many have tried, and all have died without making him change his ways," Lucifer said, sneering.
"He claims to have changed, claims to have gained morals, and claims to have become a more righteous God, but it was only ever so that he could assure his position as a Watcher. Now that he has it, and now that he's as powerful as he is, only The Almighty himself and the other Watchers could possibly have a chance at defeating him in a fair fight. But no one has the balls to actually do it. So, they play nice, smile and wave, be all chummy with him so as to not make him angry, and let him continue about his life without consequence."
"He mocks, steals, lies, pillages, destroys, rapes, and mutilates wherever he goes. He has one too many illegitimate Demi-God Children, but then again so to do most Pagan Gods. He and Zeus have a lot in common when it comes to that, as sad as that is," Lucifer continued, scoffing as he did. "And to him? It's all entertainment. He's got charm, charisma, and he lures people in, makes them trust him, only to snatch it all away when he reveals his hand. And while he has to play by the rules—to an extent—he has ways around them, and I wouldn't surprised if he tried to do just that in order to get back at Jolyne. After all, he didn't get to finish what he started…."
Lucifer paused yet again, putting his arms behind his back as he looked off into the distance, turning to the side, making sure that Hajime absorbed the information. He waited for that look in his eyes to return—the look that screamed "oh no" and just as it did—just as that gleam appeared, Lucifer turned to face him.
"I can only imagine the fear that went through Jolyne at that moment…. Scared. Terrified for her well being. Her first thought was probably to go home and seek some kind of comfort from the person she loves the most. So, that was exactly what she did; remember, I saw everything. From the moment Loki left to right before I took you here, I've been watching this whole thing play out."
"So, I want you to be in her shoes for this. You get back to your home, expecting to unwind. You overhear your significant other pouring their heart out to a couple of friends about something that's been a major problem in your relationship. You, realizing your mistake, go to try and talk things out. To apologize for said mistake, only for your significant other to dismiss you, and when you push the topic, they start yelling at you, make wild accusations, and then turn around and start bawling their eyes out after saying some of the most horrible shit in the world," Lucifer said as Hajime frowned.
"But it wasn't like that," Hajime said as Lucifer narrowed his eyes.
"That was exactly what it was, and to pretend that it isn't is lying to yourself. That's not to say that you didn't have any valid points, or that you're issues are less than hers. That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that what you said was unacceptable," Lucifer stated as Hajime looked away, ashamed. But, Lucifer continued, regardless.
"Now, I'm not going to retread what we just talked about. But I want you to think; to really think about this. How would you feel if you had to deal with that—everything I just said, that was you, in her shoes, having to deal with all that shit back to back. What would you have done in her situation. Because, you wanna know what I would've done? I would've left. I would've turned around, taken that child with me, and walked out of the door. I would not have put up with that, and the fact that Jolyne didn't up and leave the moment you all but called her a whore, shows me that she's twice the person I am, and quadruple the person you are."
Hajime nodded. It was the only thing he could do, because if he said anything, it would probably make things worse. It wasn't like he felt good about what he had said, but… even now, he was having a hard time accepting the fact that he had said any of what he had said.
"So. Do you feel stupid yet?" Lucifer asked, snapping Hajime out of his thoughts as he frowned.
"Yes… Happy?"
"Very," Lucifer stated, crossing his arms. "And just so that we're clear…" Lucifer's eyes flashed red, "If you ever talk to my employee like that ever again, I will rearrange your organs using a tooth pick, and I'll make sure you're alive for the entire process. I do not care if she killed a million orphans in front of you in cold blood, I will not let you, or anyone, talk to my employee like that. Because disrespect toward them is disrespect toward me, and I'll be damned even more than I am if I willingly take that kind of smack talk. Are. We. Clear?"
"Y-Yes, M-Mr. Morningstar," Hajime said, gulping audibly as Lucifer hummed in acknowledgement.
"Good. And, by the way, that's not to say you can't argue with her or disagree with her. But if you ever talk to her like that again, I'll make you wish you were never even conceived. The world is already filled with shitty abusers. The last thing this world needs is another one, so I'm nipping this in the bud before it gets outta hand," Lucifer stated, shaking his head as he stared at the floor. "By Father's beard… I feel like I'm talking about Char here, and instead it's with some stranger… How in the living Me does that make a lick of sense…"
Snapping out of his funk, Lucifer sighed, looking back over to Hajime once again. "Now. When I take you back, you are not going to say anything other than "I'm Sorry," and then you're going to further elaborate on what you're sorry about. Then, whatever it is that Jolyne says to you, you're going to take on the chin, and accept for what it's worth. Whether that mean's that she leaves you, or whether that means she wants nothing to do with you until she comes back, or if she decides to forgive you entirely, it will be entirely up to her. Because, quite frankly, you don't have a say in what happens anymore. You got that? Then, after that, I'm taking her to where she needs to be, and that will be the end of it. Do we understand each other?"
As Lucifer finished explaining, Hajime was at a complete loss of words. So much had been said, and a lot of it didn't make any sense to him. But, if what Lucifer was saying was true—if Loki was as vile, and as disgusting as Lucifer was making him out to be, coupled with what Lucifer had told him…. "I understand," Hajime said, looking downcast at the ground.
"Good," Lucifer said, pausing briefly before clearing his throat. "And just so that we're clear. This conversation? It didn't happen, so don't even mention it. Loki can hear and see everything that happens near Jolyne. That's why I took us far away from her so that he wouldn't know about the conversation."
"Alright."
"Good. You ready to go back?"
"Yeah…." As Hajime said that, and as he continued to process the information he had been given, with so many things on his mind, he had no idea where to even begin. But, one thing was for sure… if what Lucifer said was true? Then Hajime's life was about to go from 0 to 100 at a very alarming rate.
He just hoped that it wasn't already too late.
[XXXX]
There was something about obtaining peace of mind that Kirigiri Jin quite liked. Peace of mind was something everything human should strive to push themselves toward. Unburdened by the weight of mounting pressure… unburdened by having to deal with the nonsense that was the outside world.
The last two months, while seemingly peaceful, had been anything but for Jin. The Council had been after his ass about allowing them access to Hinata Hajime. But, Jin refused. He refused because he knew why they wanted him. He knew what it was that they were going to do to him, and he knew damn well that if he allowed for that, he wouldn't have been able to sleep at night.
They wanted to mutilate him. They wanted to rearrange his brain and alter its chemicals. They wanted to introduce a foreign parasite into his body—because that was exactly what it was. They wanted to turn that boy into a weapon of mass destruction, claiming that it would give the world peace of mind, and Hope for future generations.
Their intentions were clear as crystal, and Jin saw right through the smokescreen they had put up. They wanted to bring back The Founder, and if what he had been seeing all across the country was true, and if what Brooks had been telling him was also true, then that orange slime that he had seen in Chairman Tengan's eyes was a sign that Hope's Peak might have been a simple ploy—a cover up.
And if that had been the case….
Jin brushed the thought aside as he adjusted his black tie, and fixed the collar of his light purple button-up shirt. He also loosened the black leather belt around his waist, which had been working to hold up his faded black jeans. In the corner of his eye, he noticed that his one of his black shoes needed to be relaced, so he quickly fixed that—the last thing that he needed was to trip and fall on himself and wind up injured.
Just as Jin finished tying his shoe, and just as he sat up straight so that he could check his Email's, there was a polite series of knocks on his door. Jin looked over to the clock and frowned. It was almost 9:30 PM. Even now, typically, no one was in the main building at night. Most of the staff had already gone home, and while the building wasn't locked or anything until midnight, normally, he wasn't here. In fact, the only reason why he was here right now was because he had to check his Email's, and he had been running late on doing so.
"Well, it's not as if having company would be bad. And it's not as if I have anything better to do. The Email's can wait," Jin thought, as he relaxed in his chair. "Come in."
The two double doors that separated his office from the rest of the hallway beyond them opened slowly. As they parted, Jolyne Brooks entered, and… she didn't exactly look good. Her hair was a mess, her eyes looked heavy and red, as if she had been crying, and her expression was twisting into a slight frown. She looked to have a lot on her mind, and it was seemingly troubling her.
She was dressed in the same regal dress that she been wearing all day, not that he could blame her. It did look rather nice, and it was probably very expensive to boot.
"Ah, Brooks-san, what brings you here today? And, at such a late time, to boot?"
"Good evening, Headmaster," Brooks said, her tone almost… despondent. It worried Jin, even if it was only just a little bit. "I wanted to inform you that I'm going to be travelling for upwards of a month. I… Have a job that I need to do," as Brooks continued, Jin raised an eyebrow.
"A job? That requires you to travel for a month? To where?"
"Classified, sir. I was… emailed by The Japanese Government. They heard about my abilities and they wanted me to investigate something—said only I could do it because of my magic. And, in truth, I've already been looking over it for two months, but that's beside the point. If it weren't for my magic, they would've sent for Kyoko. They… should've sent you an email about it?" Brooks added as Jin looked over to his laptop, opening it, entering the password and started to scroll through his emails until he came across one that had been, in fact, sent by a spokesperson.
He read through it, frowning. It looked official enough. It was even signed by the current reigning Prime minister Shinzo Abe and Emperor Akito. Any information about what this had been about was so obscure that it might as well have been useless. However, there was one thing that had concerned him.
"You'll cut off from all contacts until your investigation is complete?" Jin questioned as Brooks nodded.
"I'm not allowed to call, email, text, or write to anyone while I'm doing this. It's top secret information. Something that could… cause civil unrest…" Brooks replied, wiping something out of her eye. Jin frowned, closing his laptop.
"Are you alright, Brooks-san?"
"Hmm?" Brooks mumbled, looking up at Jin, putting on a smile, even though Jin could tell it wasn't a natural one. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just… don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?" Jin pressed as Brooks nodded, prompting him to sigh. "Alright. Now, was there anything else that you needed?"
"Yes, actually…" Brooks said, walking over to one of the chairs in front of the desk, and taking a seat. When she did, she fixed her hair a little bit, before sighing. "This is more of a personal question, but… Have you ever had an argument with your spouse?"
"Yes, but… she's no longer around. May I ask why you wanted to know?" Jin asked as Brooks shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
"How bad… did they get?"
"Brooks-san… Is everything alright? Truly?" Jin pushed, to which Brooks flinched. "Is this about Hinata-san?" Brooks remained silent, which all but confirmed what Jin thought. "Brooks-san… I have to know, as the Headmaster of this school, did Hinata-san hurt you in a physical capacity."
"W-What? No!" Brooks said, shaking her head. "God no… It wasn't like that. It's just…. He said a lot of really awful, terrible things, and… I don't know what to do."
"Well, do you think he meant any of it?" Jin asked as Brooks looked at him, confused by the question. Jin let out a short, quiet laugh. "Let me rephrase that. I don't know what happened to cause the argument much less what was said, so all my advice could end up being meaningless. But, whenever myself and Chiyo argued, when it was all said and done, I had to think to myself "did she really mean it", and nine times out of ten? The answer was no, unless I was objectively in the wrong."
"The best thing you can do, is think back to all of the times that you and Hinata-san hung out with one another. All of the good times, the happy times you've had, and apply that to the argument you had. See if anything that he said lines up at all with his thought process normally. And if none of it matches? Then chances are he meant none of what he said, and only said what he did because he was angry," Jin said as Brooks looked… conflicted.
Jin was confused. Granted, he didn't know everything—and how could he? The most he knew was that they got into an argument, nothing physical happened, and that apparently what Hinata said was really bad. "What did Hinata-san say?"
"I don't wanna think about it…"
"That bad, huh?" Jin asked as Brooks nodded. "Well, if that's the case, if what he said was really that hurtful, the only thing you can do is do what you think is right."
"And what would that be?"
"That's for you to decide. But, if you want options, then you can either kiss and make up, or, and pardon the crude language, dump his ass. Is this the first time you've argued?" Jin asked as Brooks once again nodded. "Well, personally, I'm one for second chances. But only once. So, if you want my opinion, I say that you give him one more chance, and if he messes up even once? Then he's lost you. Okay?"
"Okay…" Brooks said, standing up, bowing her head. "Thank you. I just… I didn't want to do or say something irrational, or end up accidentally hurting him or…"
"Just remember, Brooks-san," Jin began, a sincere look in his eyes as he addressed her, "You don't have to shackle yourself to a single person for the rest of your life. Do not mix up love for pity, because pity leads to arrogance, which leads to ignorance, and ignorance is the downfall of man."
Brooks looked up at him, as if taken aback, silently staring at Jin. She didn't say a word, she didn't flinch, and she didn't even so much as blink. She just… stared. As if what he had said to her had been one of the most mind-blowing things in the whole world.
After what felt like an eternity, Brooks nodded, and exited his office. When she did, and when he heard the doors shut behind her, Jin couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity. He was curious as to what had happened to have caused such a dramatic shift in the usually upbeat and carefree individual who he knew to be one of his students.
One thing he did know, though was that something had in fact happened. No one argument could have that drastic of an effect on someone to have their demeanour change that drastically, unless that argument was a very hostile one.
But that aside, with the information that he now had about Jolyne being out of the area for the time being, that gave him the perfect opportunity to look into what it was what The Government had assigned Jolyne to look into—because as much as he trusted his Prime minister and his Emperor, as of late, he had a hard time trust authority.
And while had no right to call upon her, he knew that one of the very few people who could've been able to help him figure out what was going on with his student and what they were looking into, would be someone who had been groomed to be the best of the best.
Even if it was against his wishes.
Jin looked over to his phone, unlocked it, went into his contacts and hovered over the quick dial option for someone had only rarely ever spoken to. Rarely ever interacted with—not of his own choice, but because she wanted nothing to do with him and there was nothing that he could do about it.
Dialing the number, he waited. Jin knew this individual was awake. They were a night owl, after all. It was in their families blood, and by all metrics, she would be the same. After another minute of ringing, the phone picked up, as a monotone yet very annoyed sounding voice spoke on the other end.
"Father. I believe I had made it clear to you I want nothing to do with you unless absolutely necessary. If this isn't that, I am hanging up the phone."
"Oh, Kyoko…" Jin thought, sighing. "We can discuss this further in the morning, but that is not why I called. This is about your classmate. Brooks Jolyne."
There was a pause. A long one. As if Kyoko had been deliberating something with herself—a normal trait with the detectives in the Kirigiri family. Jin knew this silence very well. His father often used it when he was thinking up ways to "train" Jin. The same "training" that he gave to Kyoko.
But to call that training would be like calling being run over by a steam roller a massage, though he digressed.
"Brooks Jolyne. 16 years old, two months away from turning 17. Blood Type Unknown, height 165cm, weight 55kg. She was born in Naha, Okinawa Prefecture of the Ryukyu Islands, and is a Birthright Citizen. When she was 2 years old she moved from Japan to Canada, living in Ontario for 11 years, in which during that time she also became a Canadian Citizen, gaining dual citizenship between both countries. When she turned 13 years old, her parents sent her off back to Japan to live on her own for reasons I am still looking into. From there, she finished Middle School, applied to go to Hope's Peak Academy within the Reserve Course, where, after being there for just over a year, she attempted Suicide. The rest, as we know it, is history."
Jin blinked, staring at the phone, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. "I, um… See. Did you… come up with that on the spot?"
"Yes. But it also helps to have a very good memory. I am also researching the rest of my class, my upperclassmen, and the staff here. For example: Did you know that Nevermind-Senpai is not 17 Years old as she claims? Her DNA suggests that she is well over 100 years old."
Jin was not shocked about that. He knew about Nevermind's upbringing, and what the Novoselic people were. They wanted to keep it a secret from the world, and as such he promised to them and their people that he would, in fact, keep such a thing secret. That aside, however…. "How did you get her DNA?"
"Her tea cup. She uses the same one, without fail. It has an abundance of DNA to pull from, and I swabbed it when she wasn't looking. I am aware it is against the law, but all Detectives need to bend the rules at times to get the answers they both need and are looking for."
"I see…" Jin mused, and as much as he felt that was illegal—Kyoko even admitted that it had bee—she was within her right to do what she needed to do in order to harbour her talent. After all, Jin did accept a Serial Killer as a student, split personality notwithstanding, although he digressed. "Anyway, that was not the point of this phone call. I have a request for you, and, as I said, it applies to Brooks."
"I will not do it for free."
"I am more than aware. We'll start with the standard hourly wage a high-class Detective would have—9,000 yen an hour—and then we can discuss increases if and when you find the information I am looking for."
"Bump it up to 10,000 yen an hour."
Jin's jaw tightened, but nonetheless, it wasn't as if the school lacked funding. 10,000 yen an hour was just a drop in the bucket compared to their coffers. Even if it took Kyoko seven years to find all the information he wanted—which he knew that it wouldn't take that long, in fact it would probably only take a week or two—they'd still have over 99% of their budget remaining.
"Fine. 10,000 yen an hour, and I'll even add 4,500,000 yen as collateral should you not be able to find what I'm asking for. Will that be enough?" Jin asked, his tone veering slightly to the impatient side of things. Kyoko was silent for a moment, before finally responding.
"Yes, that will be perfect. Now then, what exactly am I looking for, Father?"
A part of Jin knew that he was about to ask Kyoko was stupid. However, he also knew that with Brooks being gone, now was his chance to find out what it was she was up to. Because, to be frank, he was worried about what she was doing off campus. He had been so worried, in fact, he had requested Fujisaki-san to hack her phone and send him anything suspicious that could help him figure it out.
And it turned out, that she was, in fact, doing something that he considered worrisome. Even if Brooks had just admitted to him that she had been looking into something for the Government, that didn't change the fact that it was any less dangerous. And now, it was time to finally figure out what it all meant.
"Kyoko. For the next two weeks to a month, I want you to look into a cult known as The Flame. Brooks has been secretly investigating it herself for some time now on behalf of The Japanese Government, and from what she has uncovered—which isn't much—they seem to be a dangerous organization. I feel it would be within our best interest if the professionals handled this. That, and this will greatly boost your popularity with The Chairmen, alongside the Directors Board. It will also put to bed the pointless rumours of your admission being based off of pure nepotism on my end."
"I see. It benefits us both. However, when you say this cult is dangerous, how dangerous are we talking? Standard cult dangerous with weapons, or something more? After all, as much as I wish to believe that magic is not real, Brooks spits in the face of that with almost everything she does. If she herself is magical, then I have no reason to believe that this cult isn't."
"I do not know. But that is why you will not be alone. I will enlisting the help of a few well trained individuals that Brooks has listed as "Back-up", and one of those people just so happens to be her boyfriend, Hinata Hajime who is, as you know, The Ultimate Gunslinger. Furthermore, I will also request that another of your upperclassmen, Nanami Chiaki, join you."
"The Ultimate Gamer? Hinata-senpai, I understand. But why Nanami-Senpai?"
"Because Brooks also has her listed as back-up. I have no idea why, but she does. If I were to guess, it has to do with something that only Brooks knows, and with her disappearing for a while, we won't know until we see it for ourselves," Jin said, looking over the list of information he had.
"Do you think that Brooks-san is a potential threat of Hope's Peak Academy?"
It was a random question. One that he had never considered before, and a perspective he knew others on the staff shared in sentiment—Juzo being one of them, but so too did Yukizome. It was a strange position, that much was for sure. Brooks had done nothing but aid them, so why would one view them as a threat? Especially after they saved Hope's Peak all those months ago.
Sure, it was the Reserve Course that was attack, and many of the staff in the main building—ignoring Yukizome and himself—viewed that place as a tumor. But that aside, he could also see from their perspective why she could be a threat. To their knowledge, she could easily destroy what they had built up with the wave of her hand.
And that was why Jin was walking on glass shards around her. Being careful as to not say or suggest the wrong thing in order to set off the potential ticking part of the ticking time bomb, especially in the emotional state that she was in when he saw her this evening. "But, that won't be our problem for long. It will be whoever she goes to's problem."
"Father?"
"Ah! Sorry, Kyoko. I was thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"Your question, Kyoko."
There was a brief moment of silence, before Kyoko spoke up. "And what conclusion did you come to?" She sounded almost interested. The keyword there was "almost". It was controlled interest. Then again, more detectives were like that.
"While Brooks is, objectively, a threat, treating her as such won't get us anywhere. In fact, it could potentially make the situation worse. We already have camera's on her at all times on campus, and the Japanese Government is watching her like a hawk would potential prey. So, for the time being, I think it is safe to say that we do not have to worry about her becoming a problem for the world to deal with."
"You sound confident in that assessment. But have you considered this to be a ploy to earn your trust?" Kyoko suggested as Jin frowned. Before he said anything though, Kyoko continued. "Now, that does not mean I myself believe Brooks to be trying to mastermind her way into overthrowing you, Father. It is merely an exercise in thinking. I am aware you and Grandfather did not get along, but he taught me to think at different perspectives until I come to the truth. It is always good to have several perspectives to run off of before you come to a definitive conclusion. It helps prevent bias and railroading."
It was sound logic, which is what frustrated him. He hated to acknowledge the fact that anything his father had said in the past was correct. But, this was his daughter telling him that, so at the very least, he could look at it and pretend it was her way of thinking and not his father's.
"That's reasonable. I can see why you think the way you do…" Jin said as, once again, silence consumed the conversation. It lasted longer than normal—a whole two minutes—until, once again, Kyoko broke the silence with something that took Jin off guard.
"Father… Why did you hate Grandfather?"
Jin had to hold back a scoff and a witty quip as he registered the question. This was the first time that she had ever asked him that. It was only ever accusations of what she thought his reasoning was.
"Before I answer… can I ask where this is coming from?" Jin asked as Kyoko remained silent. It seemed as if she wasn't going to answer his question, so, he sighed, and decided to give her the honest the truth. "I hated my father because not only did he never believe in me, not only did he belittle and neglect me growing up, and not only did he try to keep me away from my peers. But, when you were born Kyoko… he tried, on multiple occasions, to kidnap you."
"Grandfather would—"
"Stop," Jin interrupted. "You asked for why I hated him, correct? I'm telling you the truth. Whether you want to hear that truth or not, or if that truth is too painful for you to withstand, then that is something you'll have to come to terms with. But whatever you remember Fuhito being is not what he was."
"Then what was he? Because he actually raised me. He gave me a home when you didn't. He—"
"He poisoned your mother and is the reason why she died, tried to poison me but failed, forbade you from seeing your mother when she was dying because he had taken "emergency custody" of you due to both myself and your mother being in the hospital, and when I was released instead of following police orders he secreted you away to somewhere in Taiwan to train you to become his replacement. Karma came for him, and the rest is history. And might I add, may that rotten bastard burn in hell for the rest of his miserable afterlife."
Kyoko remained silent. She did not say a word—in fact, it didn't even sound like she was breathing. For a moment, Jin was worried, and not being able to see Kyoko's visible reaction was worrying to him.
What if he had said too much?
What if he had crossed a line?
What if this was the thing that finally drove them apart forever, all because he couldn't reign in his emotions.
What if—
"Do you have any proof of your allegations?"
"What…?
"Proof, Father. Do you have any?"
Jin felt a somewhat victorious smirk break out on his face. "Why, of course I have proof. I have over a terabyte of evidence compiled over the years with the help of both the PSIA, and even the CIA, seeing as, apparently, Fuhito had meddled in American politics more brazenly than one could imagine, which put a target on his back. Alongside a myriad of other crimes my father committed across the country to get his information, including crimes against humanity, neglecting human rights, and making the American prison guards at Guantanamo Bay look like Saints… your Grandfather wasn't exactly the most liked man in the world. I'm sending you the file to view at your leisure. But remember by request. That takes precedent over our family drama, understand?"
As Jin said that, he compressed the file he had on his computer, opened his email, typed in Kyoko's business email, attached the file and sent it. Jin waited a few seconds, before closing his laptop and looking back over to his phone. Kyoko had still been silent, until finally…
"This is…. This changes everything. Are you sure you're not a detective either, Father?"
"I'm a Kirigiri, Kyoko. This comes as second nature to us. Even if we weren't ever trained to be as hyper vigilant as we typically are, we can still best most normal detectives in their own field. But that's beside the point…" Jin said, looking at the time. "It's already almost 10:30. I have a meeting in the morning with The Board of Directors. I wish you good luck in your ventures. May we speak again soon."
"Likewise. Goodbye, Father."
And then, the phone call disconnected. Jin looked down at his phone, a faint gleam of hope sparkling in his eyes.
Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance that he could rebuild that bridge with his daughter after all….
[XXXX]
Returning to the apartment, Jolyne stood in front of the apartment door, her expression one of a mix of resolve and indecisiveness. She didn't know what she wanted to do. She didn't know if she wanted to forgive Hajime for what he had said, nor did she know if she wanted to slap him in the face and tell him they were over.
Her broken heart screamed at her to do the latter, but the other part of her that was thinking about Kotoko told her to do the former.
If for nothing else, she was doing this for Kotoko. Kotoko deserved to have something. Her previous family had been fractured and abusive. The last thing Jolyne wanted was to have that same thing happen to her again.
Sighing, Jolyne collected herself, looked down at the time, and frowned. An hour had passed, which meant that after she said what she wanted to say to Hajime, she had to go. Lucifer was very strict about the hour time limit, and she couldn't waste any more time on this. Putting her hand on the doorknob, Mono overwrote the lock and allowed Jolyne access to the apartment, and upon stepping inside, at the same time, Hajime and Lucifer appeared out of thin air.
Both Hajime and Jolyne stared at one another, as the tension in the air rose. Hajime gulped, his expression twisted into what she could describe as concerned remorse. It eased the tension in Jolyne's shoulders slightly, but only slightly. Kotoko was nowhere to be seen, but Jolyne could guess with relative ease that she was sleeping in the bedroom.
The living room was drowned in silence. Neither of them said a single word to one another as Lucifer leaned against the door to the bathroom, hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed at the back of Hajime's head.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Hajime spoke. "I… I'm sorry, Jolyne. I shouldn't have said what I did…." Hajime began as Jolyne crossed her arms, not saying a word. "I know… I know that what I said was… completely unacceptable. I was angry, upset… I felt betrayed but it didn't give me the right to say all of what I did. It was completely unnecessary. If anything, I should have just walked away. I didn't need to spark another argument. A-And… If I knew what I knew now, I wouldn't have—"
"Zip it," Jolyne interrupted, uncrossing her arms as Hajime flinched. "You're right. What you said was unacceptable. No amount of excuses will cover your ass, either. But, you know what? I forgive you," Jolyne said, glancing over to Lucifer, who nodded, before looking back over to Hajime.
"I have no idea what Lucifer told you, and frankly, I don't care what he told you either. You're getting another chance. But I want you to know, this has nothing to do with the previous argument. I already admitted my fault for that, and I don't think I need to repeat myself. I'm sure Lucifer tore you a new asshole so I'll spare you the lecture."
Hajime nodded, looking at the floor, ashamed. "I… I'm sorry. I really am…"
"You better be," Jolyne said, walking up to him, staying at least an arms length away. They met each others eyes. Emerald green met a faded green, and before Hajime could say or do anything, without warning, Jolyne kissed him, forcing him into an embrace that he wasn't expecting. When she pulled away, he was more than a little taken aback.
"I—"
"That was more for me than it was for you," Jolyne stated, sighing, shaking her head. "I have a lot of thinking I need to do over the course of these next few weeks," as Jolyne said that, she snapped her fingers, as a leather bundle appeared in the palm of her hand. It had a money insignia on the front with the difference between the regular insignia was that in the place of the S, there was a G. She handed Hajime the bag as he fumbled to catch it, but when he did, Jolyne smiled. "Take it."
"What… is this?" Hajime asked, looking at the bag, confusion written all over his face.
"It is a bag full of twelve Gacha Tokens. They are all Legendary Ranked or higher. I've explained to you what they are. It's why you have Remote Bullets and Shadow Walk now. Only use those tokens if you or someone next to you desperately needs a power boost. Okay? Those are the only high-ranking Gacha Tokens I have. I'm giving them to you because, where I'm going, I don't want them to be confused for something else. Okay?" Jolyne explained as Hajime looked at the bag, then back to Jolyne again.
"You're… trusting me with this?"
"Who else am I going to give it to? An impulsive twelve year old or a reasonably mature, albeit somewhat of a dunce, seventeen year old, bordering on being eighteen?" Jolyne remarked as Hajime chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"You've got a point," Hajime said, putting the bag of coins on the table, and just as he did, he looked back to Jolyne. This was going to be the last time in a long time—a whole month at worst—that he would see her. He knew he was going to hate every second of it. He knew that it was going to make him miserable.
But, he also knew, that it was for the better. As much as he hated it, it needed to happen.
"Well, I'll see you in a bit. I'll try and bring home a souvenir," Jolyne said, looking over to Lucifer, who stood up straight, waving his hand. As soon as he did, a red thunderbolt shaped tear appeared in the fabric of space and time, sparkling and cracking with demonic energy. On the other side of the portal was what appeared to be an alleyway of sorts leading out into a city, as a gust of air rippled through the portal and blew into the apartment.
"Well, let's go, kiddo. You've got one hell of a job ahead of you," Lucifer stated as Jolyne approached the portal. As she did, she could help but feel an overwhelming sensation of not being welcome—she hadn't even stepped through the portal, and she was already getting that feeling. As if something from beyond the portal was already telling her "We don't want you here, leave us be."
Unfortunately for them, however, Jolyne didn't care.
She had a job to do.
And come hell or high water, she was going to get it done.
Just before crossing over the threshold, Jolyne looked over her shoulder back at Hajime, and smiled and waved. "Behave yourself~!" And then, she leapt backward through the portal.
Crossing through the portal, something strange happened. Her clothing, for no reason, began to change into something else. Her dressed was instantly replaced by a short-sleeve dark green shirt with a long-sleeve off-white shirt underneath. Alongside that, a pair of high-waisted black cargo jeans, alongside a pair of black below the knee strap-on buckle boots.
Instead of tumbling and looking like a moron, she continued with the backward momentum and landed the backflip, if only barely. Standing up straight and dusting herself off, she looked down at her clothing and frowned. "Mono…."
[Do not be alarmed. This is merely a cover. Your dress and greaves is still considered "equipped." I have simply altered its appearance so as to not make it that you draw attention. I have been debriefed by Loki about a few of the rules of this world. For starters, Magic is Secret, meaning open use of it could be a bad thing, so keep it to an absolute minimum. Secondly, there are four major factions in this world. The White Council, The Faerie Courts of both Winter and Summer, The Vampire Courts, including The Red, White, and Black Courts respectively. There is another: The Jade Court, but they are not that relevant and have made themselves scarce. Finally, The Laws of Magic, though luckily for you, they only apply to humans of which you are decidedly not. Not that it matters anyway thanks to Loki and Lucifer pulling a few strings.]
"Well, that works for me," Jolyne thought as the portal in front of her snapped shut, followed by the sound of a clap of thunder, and a fizzling sound akin to a cut open electrical wire. Turning her attention to behind her, she walked out of the alleyway and into the bustling city streets of… somewhere.
Old, early 2000s vehicles drove in thick lines of traffic as people walked to and from places. Shops of various kinds, barely if any of those glass giant abominations that she was used to seeing in Tokyo, Shibuya, and Yokohama. English signs as far as the eye could see, which gave her an idea that she was at least either in The British Isles, Canada, or The United States of America.
Most of, if not everyone that passed her by, were white. Some people had darker skin but wasn't that often. There was trash along the city streets but every city in the Western world had that problem, and this place was no different. She spotted a couple of homeless people, but aside from that, she couldn't tell anything else about this place.
"Well, standing around isn't going to help me much," Jolyne thought as she merged into the human traffic on the side walks. Compared to Tokyo, it wasn't that much. Sure, it was busy, but if this was what this city considered busy then Tokyo to these people would've been hell. No one moved with a sense of urgency. They all moved as if they had all the time in the world. Jolyne was the only one, sans a very select few, who moved faster than a normal walking pace.
Her Vampiric senses had been going through the roof. She could smell opened wounds and blood in every general direction. "A high crime rate, maybe? Then again, accidents with knives or car crashes could draw blood. Shibuya wasn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows either…" Jolyne thought, putting her hands in her pockets as she walked.
As she did, Jolyne had noticed that a few people were giving her looks—probably because of her hair. She had no idea what the time period was, but it seemed to the early 2000s. Dyed hair—even hers was natural—wasn't exactly popular. And, if this was also the early 2000s, and if this was in America, then the idea of women wearing what she would call "men's fashion" probably wasn't exactly a positive thing.
Not that Jolyne cared. If anyone had a problem with it, they could and would catch her hands straight to the face.
Jolyne had no idea where she was going. Mono hadn't even given her a Quest yet—which was bizarre. Usually by now, he did. The more she walked, and the more corners she turned, the more lost she ended up becoming. The more she lost she got, the more annoyed she became. The more annoyed she became, the more she ignored the people around her.
Finally, around the time she had finished walking down yet another street, Jolyne came across a massive brown brick building with a downward leading staircase that seemed to go toward some kind of housing unit—it was also late by the time she had reached this place, with the moon having been out for a while. She guessed time really did fly when one was lost.
Not that it particularly mattered. That wasn't why she stopped. She stopped, because there were four people in a pseudo-stand off. A tall, large man wearing a leather duster who appeared to have seen better days if the messy brown hair, bruised appearance, and overall unkempt facial hair had anything to say about him.
There was an admittedly beautiful dark skinned woman with dark straight hair that ended around the nape of her neck, and Jolyne could tell based on her outfit that she was probably some news reporter—no sane person wore light blue on black and thought it looked good, even if it was a mini-skirt and a tube top that exposed her midriff.
Then came the other two. They both wore casual attire—basic shirts and basic pants, the man had slicked blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and wore styled tennis white. The woman was dressed similar, and even had the same appearance. At a first glance, one would expect them to be normal. But their eyes… their ghoulish, dead eyes made Jolyne instantly realize that they were not human. What they were, though, Jolyne didn't know. Her first guess was some kind of skin walker, but that was about it.
She wasn't directly across from them, Jolyne was more toward the left rather than directly nearby. The tall man hadn't seemed to notice her, or if he did, he wasn't paying her any mind. Or, maybe he was, and he just didn't want to show it.
What she did know, however, was that whatever was about to happen here, she had walked in on it, and quite frankly? She wanted nothing to do with it.
But, as if her luck wanted to bite her in the ass—as per usual—Mono finally seemed to catch up with the program, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the first Quest that she had gotten within the last two months.
[Introductions Are In Order]
[Difficulty: Normal]
[Quest: Once Kyle and Kelly Hamilton are gone, introduce yourself to Harry Dresden. What could possibly go wrong?]
[Rewards: 1 Reputation with Harry Dresden]
"Only one? Great. This is gonna suck, isn't it…"
[-To Be Continued-]
[Ending Song: request – by: krage]
Notes:
Well, it only took us four chapters until we got into the first arc, but, it's worth it. Now, because I forgot about it when I dropped the last chapter, I'll cover the comments from last chapter as well as the chapter previous of it. Seeing as I don't have much to say, I suppose we should just get into—
[Response to Reviews/Comments]
(Qoutev) Sunky Addict: Here, have more angst. Also Lucifer being best Dad (even if it's not to his own children)
(Ao3) WilburDrake: The fact you mentioned Sister Leveling makes me want to bury my head in the sand. Why, Wilbur? Why? Anyway, also, I didn't give Jolyne Casull and Jackal, I gave them to Hajime. He's the gun guy, not her. Finally, and more importantly, yes, you should fear me when it comes to characters. Remember my policy of "No One Is Safe". And I do mean No One.
(Ao3) Kolt: Yeah, Kizakura did go out like a Hero. Bud guy is the main reason why Kyoko survived in the end, even if it was kind of an asspull IMO. I still think that Kyoko should've stayed dead, because at least then it shows that there were consequences for the main quartet who were trapped in The Final Killing Game instead of just the characters who were created specifically to die.
Tangent aside, the star wars reference was funny. Not my intention, but still, very funny. Ya got a chortle outta me. Anyway, have a great day, Kolt.
(FF) AidenJacksonSmithDSBB: Hellsing is peak. The Abridged is even better. Therefore, I must reference it. Tis simply the reality of things.
Anyway, that will be all for me today. I'll see you all in the next chapter. I hope ya'll are prepared, because shit is about to get wild.
Chapter 6: Chapter 4: Of Vampires, Wizards, and Otherworldly Creatures
Notes:
Alright, well, here we are! Next chapter, and this one is going to be yet another long one. Why? Because a lot of things need to happen in it and, quite frankly, I'm working with limited chapters and an unlimited word count! What's stopping me from making these chapters 20k word behemoths! Nothing! Well, except for my mental sanity and well being, and the need to get a job… again… because I got fired for being sick. Wonderful, right?
Anyway, jokes aside, that's beside the point. My point, is that I have more free time (begrudgingly) and now I must write. Also, btw, Elden Ring Nightreign is peak and if you too wish to struggle like a mutt trying and failing to kill bosses that are not fair even in the slightest (but they are you just have to get good) then you too should purchase Elden Ring Nightreign for the surprisingly low-cost of $40.
Any who, response to reviews/comments will happen at the end as always. Without further adieu, let's begin!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[-Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – By: GRANRODEO-]
"Haunting, elegant, yet utterly terrifying. I wasn't staring into the Abyss. The Abyss was staring into me. And I swear, even if only for a moment, I saw something smile back at me. I wondered if my clan for who I rage for had done a great misdeed… That thing… It reminded me of what my mother called God. But is it really? That malice… That hatred… it was worse than any Grimm…" – Quote from a Wandering Shadow to an Unlucky Rose.
[Chapter 4: Of Vampires, Wizards, and Otherworldly Creatures]
The scene playing out in front of Jolyne was rather tense, all things considered. Both parties looked to be at odds with one another; which made sense, given how unsettling the two tennis players were. The man, Dresden, looked rather frustrated, his expression twisted into the kind of look one would give if they'd been dealing with a string of crappy things back to back.
Needless to say, Jolyne didn't envy him. As for the woman, she looked both scared and intrigued. Scared because there were two bizarre, ghostly pale individuals stalking up to them. And intrigued, because it was clear that they weren't fully human, if human at all.
But the one thing that Jolyne pegged about the two creatures in human skin was that, regardless of the imposing figure that they struck, and regardless of the confident posture they had, it was undeniable. "They're pretty weak…" Jolyne thought, as she stared out at the pair of Tennis ready dressed Vampires—at least, that was what Mono had dubbed them when she used Observe.
[Kyle Hamilton – Red Court Vampire (Grunt)]
[Lvl: 45]
[HP: 4,500]
[Mana: 3,000]
[Opinion Of You: Doesn't know you're there]
.
[Kelly Hamilton – Red Court Vampire (Grunt)]
[Lvl: 43]
[HP: 4,425]
[Mana: 2,925]
[Opinion Of You: Silently eyeing you, gauging if you're a threat]
"So, one of them knows I'm here, but the other is unaware. Although, it's weird that she's seeing me as a threat… I wonder why? Shouldn't she be more focused on that Dresden guy?" Jolyne thought, eyes glancing over to Dresden, who, for a split second, glanced over at her. Granted, it wasn't like she was trying to keep herself hidden, but that look in his eyes, even if for only a split second…. He was steeped in suspicion and, if he wasn't frustrated before, he was now.
It was clear to her that he had been in a situation like this before—not to say she planned on attacking him. But to him, it probably didn't look that way. Still, what a wonderful way to start the evening, right? Poor guy already looked frazzled, so this more than likely soured whatever crappy mood he was in even more.
Then, finally, after a tense moment, one of the vampires spoke. "Bianca told us you'd be nervous—then again, any Wizard worth their salt would be…" the male blond vampire said as Jolyne tilted her head.
Bianca, whoever she was, if Jolyne had to place her bets, was most likely their boss. Maybe the head of this "Red Court" that Mono had dubbed these guys with. It was just a guess, though, but given she was working on very little knowledge of whatever a Red Court was, it was all that she had to go off of.
"But…" The female blond vampire continued her tongue slipped out of her lips, licking them sensually. "She never told us you smelt so delicious~" A chill crawled up Jolyne's spine as she reflexively reached behind her back. The urge to call upon her Slime Sword to smite the bitch echoed in the back of her mind, but she restrained herself.
The woman—the dark-skinned one—was still here. She didn't want to get an innocent individual hurt if she decided to cut the freak's head off. "Harry?" The woman said as Harry took a more protective, defensive stance in front of her; as if he was safe guarding a treasure. They looked close. Too close. They were most likely dating, if not married with how fierce Harry was guarding her.
"Don't look them in the eyes, and don't let them lick you," Dresden said curtly, his tone sharp and measured. The woman eyed him with a sharp look, raising an eyebrow. Once again, Dresden glanced over at Jolyne, and again, for a split second, Jolyne met his gaze—only a second—and in that second, she felt the compulsion to look away, which she did. She didn't know why, but something in the back of her mind screamed at her not meet his gaze.
It was… an odd sensation, to say the least. But never the less, she looked away. The vampires, though, when she looked at them in their eyes, she didn't get the same sensation. Unnerving as their gaze's might be—especially that woman's—but it wasn't anything like what had just happened.
After a moment, Dresden looked back to the woman he was protecting and muttered "Get in," just as the male blond Vampire raised a placating hand.
"Peace, Wizard Dresden. We're not here for either of yours blood… No matter how tempting," The male blond Vampire—Kyle, if she recalled correctly—said. His voice was… silky smooth. Tempting. Alluring in all the right ways. If Jolyne was a fool, she would've fallen for it the instant he had first spoke. But due to Mono's presence in her soul and his innate ability to block all mental suggestions, as most if not all System User's hand, even if it wasn't directly targetting her, Mono still blocked it out.
The female blond vampire, Kelly, scoffed. "Speak for yourself," there was a hint of a growl in her voice—predatory in nature. She licked her lips again, black spots covering it. It looked like cancer, frankly. As Kelly took a step forward, Jolyne was mere seconds away from reflexively generating a blood spear to impale her, when Kyle stopped his sister by grabbing Kelly on the shoulder.
In a very tight, low voice, Jolyne heard Kyle whisper "You moron, are you trying to get us killed? Bianca will have our heads!" Which was more than enough for Kelly to go rigid.
"Yup, Bianca is definitely their boss," Jolyne thought, narrowing her eyes. Kyle's eyes finally locked onto her, and just like Kelly, his gaze was measured. But unlike Kelly, he didn't keep quiet about her presence.
"And who might you be?" Kyle said, which finally prompted Dresden to say something.
"She's not with you?"
"I've never seen her in my life. Unless she's new… But even then," Kyle's nose twitched. "She doesn't smell like us…"
"Shit," Jolyne thought, "Busted." Tonight really wasn't going her way, was it? Then again, her luck had been on the downfall for a while now. But, it could've been worse. "Guess we had similar ideas. Dunno what you're here for, but I want to have a word with Dresden. It's kinda important but it can wait for now."
With that, Jolyne snapped her fingers. When she did, she pulled a piece of paper out of her inventory, it manifesting in her hands. The piece of paper wasn't blank. It had her phone number on it, and before Dresden could say anything else, the piece of paper floated its way over to Dresden's pocket and stuck itself inside.
"We can talk when you aren't being bombarded. Call the number on the paper when you get the chance. See ya around," and with that, two twelve foot long ebony black bat wings spread out from her back. With a shove off the ground, Jolyne leapt up into the air, glided backward, before launching up into the sky with a "boom" loud enough to qualify as an explosion, just without the damage.
The only reason why she was comfortable flying was because of the cover of night. Yes, it was true that back in her world she would fly for every occasion. But that was because she was comfortable there. Here? It was a completely different story. This place was nice. She wasn't familiar with this place even in the slightest. She had no idea how the people of this world would react to seeing someone like her flying around in the sky.
She also didn't know how the American Government would react. That was the last thing she wanted. In her world in Japan, her existence was kept pretty much secret, but in return, they kept a close eye on her; not that it mattered much. That, and, forgive her for assuming, the last thing that she wanted was to be strapped down to a table a dissected. Not that there was much to dissect but it was the principle of things.
She decided not to fly that fast—keeping it to a calm 100 miles per hour instead of her usual 770 mph, or just the speed the sound. This was more of an exploratory flight than a "get to point A then point B" flight. And, from what she could gather was that Chicago was a big city. She had never been, so it wasn't like she knew what building was what or what street was where, or what were the major landmarks.
Primarily, though, she was looking for a place to rest her head. Just because she didn't need to sleep or have to do any of the basic things a person needed to do, like eat, drink, or use the bathroom; sans the last one, that didn't mean she didn't want to. She had been lost for most of the day, and the only thing she wanted right about now was to get some sleep. Today had been a bad day, all things considered.
Her mind was muddled. Her thoughts were scattered. And frankly? She knew that some sleep would do her some good.
It wasn't long until she finally found a simple motel. It was near the inner city, right next to a pub and grill that she didn't bother to catch the name of and a McDonalds. She landed gently, folding her wings back inside her body before shuttering. She felt a chill claw down her spine once more; as if something, or more rather, someone, was watching her.
That aside, the Motel wasn't anything fancy—then again what Motel was? It was a standard two story tall ugly grey building with a flat roof. Rooms were entered through outside patios with the entrance to the building being on the ground level. Very stereotypical 80s themed stuff. It even went the extra mile and had the signs out front that made look somehow even more cliché. But, it was familiar in the sense that even if Jolyne hadn't been there before, or anywhere in Chicago for that matter, it gave off the vibe that she had. That she had seen it before.
That, if she had to guess, was the intended effect. And, for as much as she hated to admit, yes, it had worked on her. The moment she landed in front of the entrance, and the moment she stepped into the reception area, she felt a sense of comfort wash over her. The floral wallpaper, the green carpet, and the coat rack in the corner. The wooden desk that looked to be made of mahogany; polished so that one's own reflection would stare back at them.
Behind the desk, there were a twenty cubbies, each of which had a key sitting in them with a number attached to each on a chain. Only rooms 10, 16, and 19 were available. Then, there was the man behind the counter. He was overweight, but not in a repulsive sort of way. The kind of way that you knew he was a father—had the look in his eyes too. Jolyne didn't know how she knew that, but she did. She chalked it up to a memory of "her's" and assumed nothing of it.
He was balding with a near shaved head, muttonchops and a mustache. He wore a red and black flannel, and his dark brown eyes had a tired gleam in them that all but screamed "let me go to bed already." Hanging just barely out of his mouth was a cigarette, and in front of him was an ashtray. His arms looked well built, so he clearly wasn't a push over.
The man was leaned over the counter, staring her down, as if gauging her. Then, he smirked. "You a fresh face 'ere?" The man asked as Jolyne smiled.
"Yeah. Just moved here from Japan not too long ago," Jolyne answered, a nervous tick to her voice. The man snorted, standing up straight.
"A Jap? Damn. Been a while since I've seen one of your ilk," The man said, taking a drag out of his cigarette before tapping the ash off into the ashtray. "Not to say it's a bad thing. Last time I spoke to someone like you was… Ten years ago? I've seen plenty of blacks, Hispanics, and russki's. Not many Japs, though…"
There was a slight twitch in Jolyne's eye—one that went unnoticed by the man. "Jap" was an offensive term to refer to Japanese people. It wasn't a slur, mind you, but it was pretty damn close. "Different time, different era, Jolyne. It doesn't matter," she thought, sighing. "Yeah, I guess we don't really come to Chicago that often, do we?"
"Nah. Not really," the man said, putting out his cigarette. "So, I take it yer here for a room?" the man asked as Jolyne nodded. "Hmm… Alright. It's gonna cost ya though. $59 a night. If ya cable, that's an extra $30 on top of that."
"$89? For a room and some TV? That's something like… $126 in my time. Jeez. What a rip off. But, I can't complain," Jolyne thought, frowning, as she pulled out a faux wallet that was directly linked to the amount of funds that she had available—which, when converted from Yen to American Dollars, she had just about $31,050,450 in total. So, really, it was a drop in the bucket.
Pulling out the money needed, the man tallied up the cash, hummed to himself, before opening the cash register to his right. "Alright, just need some ID from ya so I can log ya into the guest book," the man continued as Jolyne pulled out an ID card—one that Mono created on the fly, while simultaneously granting her citizenship by entering her existence into American database.
It was funny, and also extremely interesting, as to just what extent Mono could do on his own. Then again, he was an artificial intelligence that doubled as a super computer far beyond human or mortal comprehension, and was also an extremely small piece of The Greater Will and Lesser Mind. Besides, this wouldn't have been the first time that she had forged her own documents.
"Everythin' checks out. Alright, lemme just…" The man grunted, turning around and grabbing the key with the number 19 on it and tossed it to her. Jolyne caught it, before twirling the key around her finger as the man spoke. "Room's yours for the night. If ya wanna have it for another night, then yer gonna have to pay up again."
"Actually," Jolyne muttered, doing the mental math in her head for how much the room would be for a month—might as well assume the worst, given her crappy luck. "Let's see, it's October 7th, so from now till November 7th, that's at least over $2,000, which is chump change. Although, that's assuming I don't screw around and just get right to my job so that I can leave as soon as possible, I really don't need to pay for that much. But, then again, better to be safe than sorry."
"What?" The man asked, his voice impatient as Jolyne reached back into her faux wallet and pulled out the exact amount she'd need to stay a month at the motel; which was $2,670. When she handed him the money, his eyes looked to have nearly popped out of their sockets. "W-What is—"
"Take it. I'm gonna need that room for a month. That should cover it, right?" Jolyne said as the man stared at the stack of cash. She didn't give him a chance to say anything else, though, having already walked out of the entrance and over to the stairs to take her to the balcony. Standing in front of the door, she used the key to unlock the room, and upon entering, once again, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia.
The room was reminiscent of those cheesy 80s travel movies. Two large beds with black frames, dark brown carpeted floors, a box TV sitting on a dresser with two antennae sticking out from the top its black frame. There was a massive slide-open window that led to a personal balcony, and the room smelt of cheap booze and cigarette smoke; not the most pleasant smell, but it could've been worse.
"Well, now that I'm here," Jolyne said with a yawn, stretching her arms out above her head, a relaxing wave of energy washing over her as all the tension in her muscles died. Slumping forward, her eyes lazily drifted over to one of the beds and, without much fanfare, she flopped on her back atop the covers, then, in less time than it took to blink, she was out like a light.
…For all of five minutes, when she was woken up by a buzzing sensation within her inventory. When Jolyne's eyes opened, she was greeted with the morning sun peering in through her curtains. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up, clawing a hand through her hair before she reached into her inventory, and pulled out her cellphone.
It was no longer an iPhone, but rather a Nokia flip phone. It made sense, given that this was a different time period. A burst of energy raced through her—the same thing that happened whenever she slept and woke up—and upon flipping open the phone and answering the call, yawning, she spoke.
"Hello? You've reached Jolyne Brooks… Who am I speaking to?"
"Hello. This is Dresden, the man who you gave that number to." The voice, Dresden's, was muddled with static. So much so that it was incredibly difficult to make out what he was saying. Thankfully, Mono had been able to tune out the static, allowing her to hear him. Still, though, she was shocked that he had called her as quickly as he did.
Jolyne looked at the time on a nearby wall clock. It was 3:00 pm. "Okay, so it's not as early as I thought. Damn…" Jolyne thought, frowning. Mono must've thought that she deserved the rest if he let her sleep for that long; even if it had only felt like five minutes. "Oh, yeah. I didn't think you'd get back to me this early."
"Save it. Now, you said that you needed to talk to me because it was important, and if it's really that important, you can meet me at MacAnally's. Besides, I've got a few questions for you myself. 9:00 pm. Be there."
Then, the line was cut. To say that Jolyne was caught off guard by his bluntness was an understatement. His voice sounded guarded to, and frustrated. But for what reason? What could've possibly happened in the last few hours that could have him on edge? Did it have something to do with those vampires?
Regardless, it didn't matter. She was just glad that Dresden was willing to talk to her. That, and if she recalled correctly, a month back, Loki had messaged her and told her that someone who, now that she thought about it, matched Dresden's description would be her guide in this world. Though, knowing Loki, Dresden himself probably wasn't aware of that.
"9:00 pm is six hours from now, and he want's to meet at some place called MacAnally's. Mono?"
[MacAnally's Pub and Grill is located in South Side Chicago. It is a basement building, and practitioners of the magical arts in this world tend to gather within. While not officially such, most see it as neutral grounds to discuss business. It is also designed in a special manner to reflect all manners of magic. It's owner is quite the powerful individual himself, which is its own deterrent for trouble makers and the like. Dresden does not trust you, so therefore, he's ensuring his safety. After all, you revealed yourself to be less than human to him more blatantly than most. I can all but guarantee he's only going out of his way to meet with you because you are a woman. He's quite the chivalrous individual.]
"Wonderful…" Jolyne mentally drawled, but all the same, it didn't matter in the end. At the very least, she was going to meet with the guy. Although, she had no idea what exactly it was she was meant to do here other than collect contracts. There was no way that was the only thing that she was meant to—
[Story Quest – Among The Sinners]
[Description: Among those who are contracted, there lurks an old demon who needs to be brought back to hell. The problem is: he won't leave without a fight. He has attached himself to one of the contracted. Find him before he wreaks havoc.]
[Time Limit: 71 hours, 59 minutes, 58 seconds]
[Rewards: 5 Levels, $9,000, and 1 Legendary Talisman]
"Ah. Yup, that just about does it…" She knew there was more of a reason for her to be here. There had to be. Her luck wasn't going to allow her to have a job that's this easy. Killing a couple people to collect their souls was just too simple for her… Grievances aside, it was a story quest. Which meant that, to some degree, this was planned from the start.
Although, she had to wonder if it was planned from the start, or if it was tacked on? Was it planned the moment she choose her class, or was it always written for her to do this?
Was she always meant to do all the things she had done?
Did she ever have a choice to begin with?
Had her life been pre-determined by The Gods?
Questioning her existence aside, Jolyne opened up the list of people she needed to start tracking down. Out of the list of twelve people, there was one name that caught her attention. A man by the name of Louis Fredrickson. White, brown hair, green eyes with freckles. According to his record, he sold his soul to cure his mothers cancer, and to wipe out his criminal record, of which included armed robbery that ended up in the murder of a 78 year old elder woman.
To say it was an easy decision as to whether or not she was going to kill this man. Killing an elderly woman over a couple hundred dollars was not acceptable. Sure, he cured his mothers cancer, but his good deeds did not outweigh the bad ones.
Mono marked his location on the map—He lived on West Polk Street—and as soon as she got his location, she stepped outside of her motel room, looked to her left and right and as she did, she saw a couple people walking down the street. Shrugging her shoulders, she stepped on the balcony railing, unfurled her wings, and flew off.
These next six hours were going to be eventful ones.
[XXXX]
Hajime stood outside the entrance of Hope's Peak Academy, arms crossed as he tapped on his elbow, drumming his fingers against his skin as he sighed. He had a lot on his mind as of late, and it was quickly becoming apparent that his thoughts were going to continue to pester him. Last night had been a shit show of monumental proportions, and the less he thought about it, the better.
This morning was rough, too. Kotoko refused to look him in the eye, and when he dropped her off at school, she didn't even so much as say a word to him. He knew he had been in the wrong; knew how badly he had fucked up. And with what Lucifer—which was something that he was still wrapping his mind over, by the way—having told him what he had been told….
"Fuck me…" This whole situation had been entirely screwed from the start. He just wanted to make it through highschool with minimal issues. Why did he have to deal with all of this now? Was this Gods way of making a joke? Because it was increasingly looking like he was going to be the punchline.
But that didn't matter right now. He couldn't, nor did he want to, dwell on it anymore. Besides, Hajime had more pressing, current matters to deal with right now. Like how he was supposed to aid the Headmasters daughter in an investigation, alongside Nanami-san, as protection detail. As such, he was waiting outside the academy gates for Kirigiri-san to show up, and Nanami-san, as well.
Hajime made sure to have Jackal and Casull on either of his hips, alongside a standard revolver and a shotgun. The revolver was on a pocket strap attached to his suspenders, and the shotgun—a twelve gauge pump-action—was on his back. All of the guns had their safeties on, and he had his gun permit, license to bare arms, and permission to carry from the Japanese Government in his back pocket.
He made sure to have his phone on him, alongside a list of emergency numbers he should call in the event of a catastrophe. He made sure to bring with him an excessive amount of ammunition, alongside a few combat knives of various lengths, all of which were attached to a utility belt that was keeping his pants from falling down.
He was strapped to the nines, although personally he felt as if he wasn't bringing enough. This was The Flame they were taking on. The same people who Jolyne had been fighting for the last little while now. The same people who were threatening the end of the world. The same people who were extremely dangerous.
And The Headmaster wanted to investigate them.
Hajime had no idea if The Headmaster was stupid, or just simply out of the loop. This was a suicide mission. The only reason why he agreed to do this was because he would feel bad if he had sent Nanami-san and Kirigiri-san to their death's. That, and he knew when he wasn't welcome.
Although, that didn't mean he was going to leave Kotoko to fend for herself—despite what recent events might cause someone to believe, he wasn't a horrible person. He had paid Naegi-kun's younger sister, Komaru, a hefty sum to watch over Kotoko for, at the bare minimum, a month, and had told Kotoko that she would be staying with the Naegi's until he was done with his job.
Which, looking back on it, now made him seem like a hypocrite…. No, scratch that, he just was. "Look out, Hajime, you're stupidity is showing…"
"Hajime?" Chiaki's voice cut through his thoughts as he glanced over his shoulder. Chiaki Nanami was, objectively speaking, a rather attractive girl—all that could be said about everyone in his class, save for Saionji-san due to her very childlike appearance. For someone who was turning 18 in two months, Chiaki already looked like an adult with how she looked.
She was one of those girls who puberty hit like a freight train; large chest, thin waist, wide hips and thick thighs. Broad shoulders and short hair that framed her rounded yet mature looking face, mixed with that doe-eyed stare and aloof nature made her someone who was very easy looking on the eyes. Coupled with the fact that she had no blemishes on her face and that she somehow always smelt like cherry blossoms….
Frankly, anyone who ended up being able to land Chiaki as their partner was lucky as all hell. If it wasn't for the fact that Hajime saw her more as a sister than a lover he probably would've swooped in a long time ago, and the feeling had been mutual since they had met. He had known Chiaki since the beginning of High School; as a matter of fact, not counting Jolyne, she had been Hajime's first real friend. While he had known Jolyne longer, he felt closer to Chiaki, which was probably because of the drastic change that Jolyne had undergone ever since her attempted(?) suicide, but that was neither here nor there.
"Nanami-san," Hajime greeted, adjusting his suspender straps.
"I thought I told you to call me by my first name," Chiaki pouted. Hajime smirked as Chiaki stood next to him, crossing her arms. Chiaki was dressed in an off-white button-up blouse with a V-neck collar, exposing a very small amount of cleavage. Alongside that, she wore a thigh-length black skirt with cat-themed black stockings and black Mary Janes. On her wrist was a friendship bracelet, and around her neck was a silver-chained necklace that had a six-winged bird-like insignia within a golden shell that had three wings on each part of the underside.
"I know. I'm just teasing you, Chiaki," Hajime said, ruffling her hair as Chiaki mumbled something under her breath. Before long, Chiaki stood next to Hajime, staring out into the streets as people walked by. Hajime stood at attention whereas Chiaki was playing Pokémon Emerald on her GameGirl Advance. Pixelated music blasted from the speakers as Hajime stood stock still, staring out into the street.
It had felt like almost three hours had passed since they had been standing outside—long enough for Chiaki to have not only started Pokémon Emerald but to have already gotten to the sixth gym having used several speed run tactics. During that time, Hajime had bore witness to someone nearly get into a car accident speeding down the road, and had stopped some thug from kidnapping a school girl after he had called out and pointed his revolver at the man; a good enough deterrent seeing as he had fled when it happened with the girl being intact.
Hajime wasn't one for violence. He never had been. When he found out what his talent was, that being a sharpshooter or "Gunslinger" as Hope's Peak referred to him as, he had been mortified. If he was going to be talented, why did it have to center around the use murder weapons? Why did it have to be a violent thing he was talented in and not painting?
But, then again, given his bloodline, it made sense.
Hajime's family lineage was… weird. He never really dwelled on it, other than that they were connected to a family of samurai. Very dangerous samurai known throughout the history as some of the most blood thirsty. The Inazuma Clan.
According to legend, The Inazuma Clan were a clan of assassins often employed by The Emperor of the Edo Period all the way up to the Meiji Period, where his family became scholars, starting with his Great Grandfather… Kamakura Izuru.
Hajime had only recently discovered that he was related to Kamakura, and he had kept it a secret. He knew that Kamakura had been what Jolyne had called a "Lord of Frenzied Flame," meaning that his family was linked to The Flame cult in some way. He didn't want to harbour any suspicion, especially after last night's fight.
He had looked back at photos of his Great Grandfather when they were younger, and, aside from his black hair, they shared a very striking resemblance in their youth; it was almost haunting how similar they appeared.
Hajime didn't know much about his ancestor. All he knew was that he was supposedly one of the brightest minds in all of history—he had to have been if he had been the founder of Hope's Peak Academy—and that he was a Lord of Frenzied Flame. After learning about it, he took great shame in knowing he was related to such a man. Anyone who used The Flame of Frenzy had to have been a bad individual. Especially considering all that he knew of it.
Having ties to The Flame of Frenzy made the investigation into The Flame Cult a far more personal matter for him. If he could be the one to eliminate the cult, or at least have a hand in its downfall, then he could personally vindicate himself from his ancestor's misdeeds.
"I apologize for being late," a calm, monotone sounding voice pierced Hajime's thoughts as he glanced over to the academy gates. There, standing perfectly still like that of a statue, was a pale skinned girl with long lavender hair, a single braid on her left side tied with a black ribbon. Her hair was a haunting purple colour, with a gaze that screamed "dead inside."
The girl, of whom Hajime was assuming was Kirigiri, was dressed in a dark purple collared jacket, with three light brown buttons on either side—a completely fashion-based design choice. Underneath the jacket was a zip-up blouse, accompanied by a brown tie with a bird-like insignia resting on the bottom tip. She wore a far too short black skirt, heeled knee-high purple boots underneath which Hajime could make out knee-high light purple socks, which was rounded off by her wearing a pair of studded black gloves.
Kirigiri was noticeably thin, too. He'd say malnourished, but then again, there was also the chance that she was simply just that thin. Even so, given her paleness, it made him question whether or not she was eating properly. Not even Kotoko looked that pale, and her diet primarily consisted of peeled chestnuts and instant cup ramen, and the occasional wagyu steak.
Kirigiri looked over to Chiaki, who, upon noticing she was there, put her GameGirl to sleep and slipped it into her blouse pocket, yawning. "Oh, hello, Kirigiri-san."
"Nanami-senpai, Hinata-senpai," Kirigiri said, bowing her head. "I'm sorry for taking so long. I had to have a discussion with my father."
"It's fine, we're not in a rush," Hajime replied, his tone earnest. Truthfully, the longer they took to depart, the better. The Flame Cult freaked him out for obvious reasons. Any excuse to delay looking into them, the better. Though, he supposed now that Kirigiri was here, there was no need to delay any further.
"Good to hear. Now then, father gave me a lead on where to start looking. He suggested we begin in Yokohama," Kirigiri began as she stepped forward, carrying with her a hand-held brief case that Hajime was just noticing she had. "You two are to remain solely as security detail. I was told to work this alone, and I shall. It is to prove my merit as The Ultimate Detective. Do not get in my way."
"Understood, kohai," Chiaki said, following after which was another yawn. "We should get a move on. I'm getting sleepy…"
With a firm nod, Kirigiri led the march to the nearby train station. Along the way, Hajime got in front of her as Chiaki kept behind. He vaguely heard Kirigiri grumble something about being more than capable with protecting herself. Even if that had been true, it would not have been true against a group like The Flame.
The requisite train ride, which had cost just slightly over 1,500 yen for the three of them, was a long one. It lasted a little over an hour from the station they had started at, which was the Honancho Station. From there, they took a bus from the Shin-Takashima station to Shinko, and then after that, they walked to the InterContinental Yokohama Grand Hotel. The best part? All of it was paid using school funds, meaning not a single dime came out of any of their bank accounts.
The room they bought for the month was fairly expensive, costing a little over a million Yen. But, considering the view, the quality of the beds, alongside the free WIFI, maid service, washing machine, dryer, and kitchen, it might as well have been a luxury suite they rented for a month for half the price.
Although, he did have some resistance boarding both the train and bus. The police officer at the station tried to take his guns away, up until he saw his permits and the fact that he had them not only registered but given the go-ahead to use them at his own discretion. It didn't help that his hand had been firmly gripped on Casull during the entire engagement, but he digressed.
Upon getting settled, or as settled as Hajime could get, he stood at the doorway while Chiaki took guard over by the massive open window—even if she was playing on her GameGirl. But that was the thing with Chiaki. Even when absorbed in her games, she always kept an eye on her surroundings. She was always alert. Her mind might have been focused on what she was playing, but her senses were tuned in on the world around her.
As for Kirigiri, she was on the bed closest to the door, typing away on a laptop. Hajime didn't bother asking what it was about. He was far too busy standing watch. It was odd, playing the role of a bodyguard. But, then again, he was the best thing that they had to one.
The hotel room was large, easily about the size of the living room in his and Jolyne's dorm room, though this had a balcony that overlooked an ocean front. There were two queen sized beds with enough legroom between them so that it wouldn't be cramped.
There was a dresser for clothes for those who wanted to take prolonged stays, and there was a flatscreen plasma TV right in front of the massive window, of which was framed by two matte black curtains that automatically drew shut at the press of a button on a remote that sat on a bedside table in between the two beds.
It had been a little over three hours since they left Hope's Peak Academy, making it currently 3:30 PM, which was right around the same time that school would've been out for the day. Hajime hadn't eaten a single thing since they had gotten up this morning, and he had been on a strict diet that, if he wanted to keep his current physique, he needed to maintain.
That said, he wasn't comfortable leaving Kirigiri with just Chiaki. Even if he had been helping her with her newfound ability granted to her by Jolyne, that didn't mean that she was good enough to be left alone to protect one of the most influential people's daughter.
Then again, the same argument could be made with the both of them, because they were just kids. They weren't professionals. The fact that The Headmaster believed them capable to do so was admittedly outlandish, but there wasn't much that could be done about that.
"Alright. Now that I have my facts straight, and all of my information gathered," Kirigiri began, as both Chiaki and Hajime listened intently. "Tomorrow night, we are going to sneak our way to the children's museum, as there was a lead that was given to my father by a private informant who only went by the name Ms. Pluton. They said that there would be a congregation of The Flame Cult in the basement. I want to see these people first hand and what they can do, and you are going to take me there."
"Ms. Pluton, huh. It's been a while since I've heard that name…" Hajime thought, frowning. Ms. Pluton was the woman who saved his life when he had been stabbed by Chinatsu Oma, a now dead woman who had a one-sided hatred for Jolyne. To make a very long story short, Chinatsu's younger brother, Kokichi, had become consumed by The Flame of Frenzy and Jolyne killed him to save the lives of everyone at Hope's Peak.
Chinatsu wanted revenge for her brother's death, and over the course of a month, relentlessly hunted Jolyne and made various attempts on her life. During one of those attempts, Hajime had gotten caught in the crossfire and would've died had Ms. Pluton not stepped in and healed his injuries.
But that aside, ever since then, ignoring when Ms. Pluton asked Jolyne to eradicate The Kuzuryu Clan due to them having fallen to The Flame, he hadn't heard about the mysterious woman since. It felt suspicious that now she was popping again, or perhaps that was his paranoia talking—something it was doing a lot of recently.
"With all due respect, Kirigiri, you have no idea what these guys are capable of, let alone what they can do to you with just a mere glance," Hajime said as Kirigiri narrowed her eyes.
"Hinata-senpai… If I am to do my job as a detective, I need to be there. I need to see with my own eyes just what kind of people my father is having me investigate. I concede that these are not your everyday run-of-the-mill cultists, but, at the same time, what should be done and what must be done are two very different things," Kirigiri stated, her tone of voice leaving no room for argument.
Hajime sighed, knowing full well that he wasn't going to convince her to do the smart thing. "Then, at the very least, allow me to plot out a route for us tonight. I've dealt with these guys before, so I know what I'm doing."
And that was the truth. Over the last two months, there had been numerous occasions where Hajime had to fend off members of The Flame, all of which resulting in more than a handful of bodies being delivered to the nearby morgue's in Tokyo. Although, it had been odd, seeing as the only time such a thing would happen would be when he was alone.
It was as if they had been waiting for him to be isolated and alone. Which was weird, and now that he had thought about it, it had set off alarm bells in the back of his head.
Was The Flame… After him?
"But why?" Hajime thought, frowning mentally whilst keeping a straight face. "Questions for later, I suppose…" Hajime reasoned, brushing it off for now. As for Kirigiri, after a moment of staring at Hajime, she nodded. That meant tonight, he had his work cut out for him. He looked over to Chiaki, who flashed him a thumbs up, signalling that she could cover for him.
"Alright. Then I'm going to get some sleep for now. Chiaki, go with Kirigiri-san to the Children's museum to get a map and to, at the very least, explore building for our infiltration tomorrow night," Hajime instructed as Chiaki stood up, stretching as she did.
"Wait, what?" Kirigiri said, blinking, earning a smirk from Hajime.
"Welcome to the world of hunting The Flame, Kirigiri-san. We've got to be one-step ahead of these asshats. That mean's we've got to plan in advance. If you thought you'd be sitting here reading notes and only doing that, then you're not gonna like it here. Oh, and one more thing," Hajime said, reaching into his utility belt, pulling out the bag of tokens that Jolyne had given him, and tossed Kirigiri one of them.
Kirigiri barely caught the token, staring at it with a raised eyebrow. "What is this?"
"Break it."
"What?"
"I said, break it," Hajime repeated, putting the bag back in its pouch. "It'll grant you something useful. Jolyne created them."
Kirigiri stared at the token, looked over to Chiaki who nodded, before sighing. "I don't understand how this will help. But, if you believe it will, then very well." Without much fanfare, Kirigiri applied pressure to the sides of the token, and in an instant, the token shattered to bits. When it did, a rainbow light exploded outward, blinding everyone with a flash of light. When the light died down, in her hands laying flat, there sat a weapon.
It was a broad curved sword with a fur cross guard and a bandaged hilt. Hajime could tell, just by looking at it, that whatever the weapon had been, it was powerful. Conveniently, a scabbard appeared on Kirigiri's back, but that wasn't what Kirigiri had been focused on. What she was focused on was the fact that there was suddenly a curved broadsword in her hand that had manifested out of a token.
It made no sense.
There was no logic behind it.
Something like this—to create something out of what was basically nothing—should not have been possible.
And yet, her classmate, managed to do that in the form of tokens that looked ripped right from an arcade.
She stared at the sword for but a moment longer, before looking back over at Hajime, eyes gleaming with confusion. "How?"
"It's best not to ask. Learn to not question it and move on, because you won't get any answers out of me, mainly because I don't know either," Hajime replied earnestly, before yawning. "Now, I think it's about time you two headed off, yeah? I'm gonna go catch some Zs before later tonight."
"But—"
"Let's go, kohai," Chiaki interrupted Kirigiri, patting her shoulder and guiding her to the door. As they walked out of the hotel room, Chiaki looked over her shoulder and smiled. "We'll be back by midnight. Bye." The door closed behind her as Hajime sighed. After a few seconds passed, Hajime narrowed his eyes, turned his attention toward the rear wall of the hotel room, and when he did, he placed a hand on Casull and sneered.
"I didn't say anything because I didn't want to alarm Kirigiri or Chiaki, but now that their gone, show yourself!" Hajime spat, and as soon as he did, something shifted in the corner of the room where he was staring.
A man stalked out from the shadows. They had long, flowing black hair, but a very sharp looking face. They were dressed in a black yukata with a golden yellow dragon design. Their skin was pale, and their eyes were a piercing red. They were tall, thin, and had broader shoulders than most.
Hajime stared at the figure, as they turned to look at him. A small, barely noticeable smile took up his visage, and then, he spoke in an old form of Japanese.
"Hark, young one. There is no need for such violence. After all, thou art the only one who can see me." The man said, his tone dry and devoid of emotion. Hajime faltered slightly, glancing back at the door, before looking back to where the man had been standing, only for him to be gone.
"What the—"
"Besides," The man's voice echoed behind him. A hand was placed on his shoulder, fingers long, nails trimmed to perfection, and his grip ironclad. Ethereal orangeish yellow flames wafted off the man's hand as Hajime's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You cannot kill that which is already dead."
"You…!"
"Aye, child. As the prophecy foretold, I am returned. Kamakura Izuru, The First Frenzied Flame Lord. And I would have a boon of you."
[-To Be Continued-]
[Ending Song: request – by: krage]
Notes:
I was originally gonna have this chapter be longer, but I decided to cut it here, because it was the perfect cliffhanger. At first, I thought about having this reveal happen later on, but considering how much is going to happen in this book, delaying this would've been stupid. Lemme cook, trust the process.
Now then, time for my response to reviews/comments!
(FF) AidenJacksonSmithDSBB: And he will continue to catch strays because he's a lame ass. Anyway, I guess you won't have to wonder for any longer. Lightning speed pacing, my dear friend. Works in a pinch :)
(Ao3) WilburDrake: Yeah, Hajime's kinda fucked. This chapter kinda proves that point and then some. Also, I don't really know how The Fate universe works, but, as I've said in the Discord Channel, other Multiverse's exist aside from the one that this story takes place in, so, if anything, they can reside in their own Multiverse as their own Outer God-like entities, but within this Multiverse, they would still be lesser than The Greater Will and the other Outer Gods. Perhaps living on the same plain of existence as them, but far weaker than them.
We don't talk about the original version of GoTM. It had… many mistakes, and while Kyoko is still one of my least favourite characters in all of Danganronpa, I'm able to look past my grievances and write her fairly.
Also, I'm going to call a spade a spade. I see furry profile picture, I assume you are a furry. It's too late bro, you're cooked.
(Ao3) Kolt: (repeating what I responded with in comment chain) – I DM'd you on FF but I guess you never got the Notif. Essentially, AI scrapers (people who steal content using AI) were using guest accounts to do what they were trying to do. So, in a notice posted on the sight by the administrators, they suggested locking one's stories to prevent their work from being stolen. That was what I did, and why all guest accounts couldn't see or read my works.
Anyway, That'll be all from me for now. See you all in the next chapter! Peace out!
Chapter 7: Chapter 5: Contracting Obligations and Opposing Viewpoints
Notes:
Chapter 5! Let's. Fucking. GO! I know the last one cut off on a very mean cliffhanger, but I felt the need to be that guy, and besides, I haven't done one of those in a while, so I figured it was a long time overdue. That being said, I don't have much else to say. Ya'll know the drill; response to reviews/comments at the end. But, before I forget, come join the discord! There, ya get to chat with me and other fans of GoTM, and you get to know progress on the next chapter and you'll get alerted when the next chapter comes out! This is the invite code: Pva9PNxAzh
But anyways, with that out of the way…
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – By: GRANRODEO]
"Wherever he walked, blood filled the streets like rivers. Masked in the coppery scent of freshly spilled blood, bathed in the crimson fluid, he was a force to be reckoned with. Every battle, every war, every conflict; any time that he appeared in any of them, they ended as fast as they began. He acquired many names: The Fearless Blade, The One Who Ares Reveres, and He Who The Gods Fear. But his most notable title, and the one that most know him by, was The Blood God. Pray that you never have to face him. You would be better off dead." – The Great Sage of The Skull, regaling a tale to The Saint of The False Leader about Prometheus, God of Blood.
[Chapter 5: Contracting Obligations and Opposing Viewpoints]
Chiaki Nanami was what some might call "Socially Unaware." Not inept, but simply unaware of social cues. It was something that she had dealt with her entire life—having ASD, Autistic Spectrum Disorder, specifically on the high functioning side of things, was primarily responsible for that.
Her emotions were also heavily stunted. While she could understand and feel emotions, they were heavily repressed; not sociopathy, as that would imply she lacked empathy. Which she didn't. In fact, some might say she felt too much empathy, but that was beside the point.
It also didn't stem from any trauma, either. In fact, her parents were by far some of the most supportive parents out there, and it wasn't as if she had dealt with anything visceral growing up. She was quite sheltered, actually. If her parents didn't approve of it, then she wasn't allowed to do the thing they didn't approve of. Sure, she had been bullied growing up, but what kid hadn't? And besides, it wasn't as if she paid them any mind. She was too focused on getting high scores or perfecting speed run routes to give them the attention they so desperately craved.
At the end of the day, Chiaki's one singular passion was to be the master at video games; cheesy, she knew, but it had been the one thing that she had desperately wanted for herself. After all, she had sunk tens of thousands of hours into her games, and it wasn't as if she had seen anyone else do what she did.
So, Chiaki started to be more public about it.
To make a very long story short, eventually, her efforts were recognized for what they were. Talent. It was because of that talent that she became The Ultimate Gamer—officially, she was The Ultimate Gaming Prodigy, but "Gamer" sounded cooler, so she went with that. When she first started going to Hope's Peak, that was when she met Hajime and Jolyne, and right from the get go, she could tell that there had been something… off about the latter.
Chiaki didn't know what it was about Jolyne. Perhaps it was because she wasn't used to seeing foreign people at the time, but even outside of that, there were just things about her that seemed… wrong. The way she carried herself, the way she acted when she wasn't around Hajime…. It had been… weird.
Jolyne used to have certain… ticks. She would fidget when someone made eye contact with her. She had a far more timid personality, too, and it showed by her habit of twirling her bangs. She used to wear push-up bra's, and she used to attach herself to Hajime like a clingy, needy pet. Something Hajime hadn't seemed particularly bothered by, but it was what allowed Chiaki to put two and two together.
Both Hajime and Jolyne had were together, and from the onset, it was more than just a regular high school relationship. It was clearly more… intimate, just by watching how they acted. The way how Jolyne would nuzzle up to Hajime, and how there would be times where Chiaki would catch them seconds away from kissing in public—a major social taboo, but one that Chiaki didn't care about.
And while to most, it would look cutesy and adorable, Chiaki had always been weirded out by it. Not because the amount of affection Jolyne threw at Hajime was bizarre—although there was that—but because of how… forced it looked.
To be blunt; it was all a façade. A lie. A falsehood.
Now, that was not to say that Jolyne was only using Hajime. As a matter of fact, it had been the complete opposite. It was clear to Chiaki that the two had been deeply in love. It wasn't the relationship aspect that was the façade, but the smiles and the faux joy that Jolyne spoke with. Chiaki had known from the start that Jolyne had been hiding her true self from Hajime, and Chiaki was able to see glimpses of it every now and again.
Jolyne had been depressed.
Chiaki, being the empath that she was, wanted to find the route cause of what was making Jolyne depressed. After all, the last thing that she wanted was for someone who Hajime, someone who Chiaki considered to be a friend, cared about go through something awful.
So, Chiaki did what she did best. She started trying to get to know Jolyne.
It started off simple. Chiaki would try talking to her on several occasions. She would meet her outside of the gates of the reserve course and offer to take her to the arcade. She would walk her back to her apartment and talk with her. Try to get her to open up. To get to the root of the problem.
At first, it worked. Jolyne would talk about random tidbits about herself. How her favourite colour was purple, how she used to have pet cat named Candy, and when it specifically came to video games she was a huge fan of Demon Souls and Dark Souls. Chiaki, Jolyne, and Hajime would have slumber parties at Chiaki's place seeing as it was a larger house. They would all play co-op games, tell stories about things they did in elementary school, and Jolyne would talk about how it was like in Canada.
But then, as time got on, Jolyne became more and more distant. Even toward Hajime. It got to the point that she slowly stopped going to school, and on the rare times that she did it was only when she needed to collect school work. Chiaki had been worried, so she tried reach out more, but nothing really happened.
Then, there was the day before The Incident. Jolyne had come to school that day, and Chiaki took it as a sign to ask her what had been happening. It had been bothering so much to the point that even the people in Class 77 – B, her friends, wanted to know what was going on since Chiaki had spoken about it on numerous occasions. It been souring her mood, after all.
Chiaki had found Jolyne standing on the roof, and she had been crying. Chiaki had caught Jolyne off guard and asked her what she had been doing there. That was when Jolyne had sprung everything on her. Told her what had been happening, that Fuyuhiko's sister had been tormenting her for no apparent reason, and that was why she hadn't been coming to school.
That day, Chiaki took Jolyne away from the roof, and helped her go home early. Chiaki then told Hajime, and together, both of them told Fuyuhiko what had happened. They had hoped that would've been the end of it.
And then, August 2nd, 2014, happened.
Chiaki and Hajime had been there to witness it. By all accounts, Jolyne should not have lived after the fact. Her neck had brutally snapped at the center, and the amount of blood that had pooled around her was enough for an adult to have died on the spot, let alone someone of Jolyne's age.
And yet, somehow, she lived. Furthermore, as it turned out, it was quite literally through the grace of a God. The God of Mischief, to be exact. Although, apparently, according to Hajime, the cost of her coming back to life and being able to use magic was her memories past a certain point. A price neither of them liked, especially given how it had caused… issues.
Regardless, the results of what happened caused quite a change. Hajime now had an Ultimate Talent, Fuyuhiko and Peko were dead, and Jolyne was now a part of the recent Ultimate Class. Chiaki now had magic of her own and was part of a secret group to take down another secret group, and to make things even more complicated Class 77 – B were not allowed to know, no matter how much it frustrated her to not tell them. Then again, she supposed it made sense; keeping them from knowing about The Flame of Frenzy was a good thing.
Though, she was conflicted. Jolyne was responsible for killing Fuyuhiko and Peko. No matter how compromised they might have been, Chiaki would've liked to have thought that maybe there could have been another way out for them. But Jolyne had been adamant when saying those who were afflicted by The Flame were doomed to die.
Chiaki was an optimist through and through. She didn't believe in "Fate" as it were told. She believed that everyone had a choice. Everyone could be redeemed. All that needed to happen was for someone to reach out to them. Rarely ever did she make exceptions, and she had yet to in recent memory.
Her reason for ultimately agreeing to go was so that she could potentially change this "Lord of Frenzied Flame's" mind. Those who were beyond saving—the cultists—were killed all the same; no matter how much it broke her heart to do so. Every dead body was a victim of The Lord of Frenzied Flame, and she would make them pay. Hopefully, though, not through bloodshed.
"You seem distracted, Nanami-senpai," Kirigiri's cold, distant voice broke through Chiaki's thought's as she cast a glance her way. They were standing in front of the children's museum, and even from this distance, Chiaki could feel it. The maddening taint that surrounded the building; a foul stench only the soul could pick up on. The gemstone around in her necklace seemingly shuddered, as if warning her to keep away.
"Yeah. Just thinking about what we need to do," Chiaki replied, albeit far more bluntly than she had wanted. Not that Kirigiri seemed to care, much less mind. The weapon she now carried was sheathed on her back. She hadn't even so much as reached for it or touched it since she put it away.
"You truly believe this so-called cult is as dangerous as Hinata-senpai made it out to be?" Kirigiri asked as Chiaki nodded, her expression unchanging from the neutral gaze she had since leaving the hotel room.
"Yes. I encountered them a few times over the last few months. I nearly died during my first encounter. I was splashed by a wave of orange flames. I have a burn mark on my chest down to my stomach to prove the encounter," Chiaki replied as Kirigiri raised an eyebrow.
"You were burned by the "maddening" flame? And you're not insane yet?"
"Being Mad and being insane are two very different things, kohai," Chiaki rebutted, a small smile taking up her visage. "To be an Ultimate requires some form of insanity. To claim any of us sane is to lie. But none of us are Mad."
"You mean being angry?" Kirigiri said, confusion coating her voice as Chiaki shook her head.
"No. Being angry and being Mad are two different things. Being angry is to rage. Being Mad is to want to destroy everything. Madness comes with it a form of insanity that no one can break from," Chiaki paused, a puzzled expression taking up her visage. "I don't know how to describe it, really. To be Mad is like… how do I put this? It's like playing a video game with an intense amount of stick drift. You can't control your actions. No matter what you do, you act against your wishes."
"And this cult is full of people who are Mad?"
"Intensely so," Chiaki answered. "Their words aren't their own, let alone their actions. They are truly out of control. It's why we need to stop them. Why, no matter how much they plead and beg, they have to die… No matter how young or old they are…"
"That's monstrous," Kirigiri spat, evoking emotion for the first time since they started speaking.
"I know…" Chiaki began, a frown taking up her visage. "But we do not have a choice. Even if one of them is left alive, it could mean the end of the world. Literally."
And as Chiaki said that, she did so in a tone that indicated the conversation was over as she pressed forward, stepping toward the children's museum. For a moment, it looked as if Kirigiri wasn't going to follow, but once Chiaki approached the front door Kirigiri quickly amended her mistake and followed her inside.
As they entered the children's museum, the first thing of note was that the mascot was Anpanman; a very popular pop-culture figure for the younger demographic. It made The Flame's inhabiting of the place even more insidious. They were corrupting a place of sanctity for children into a would-be headquarters.
Various decorations of the titular mascot were widespread. Statues, plushies, toys, ectara. The building was ordered closed by the police so that Kirigiri could get her job done in relative silence. Chiaki was just there to act as a bodyguard.
"I used to go here as a kid," Kirigiri murmured as Chiaki glanced over her shoulder at her. She didn't say a word. She just stared. Kirigiri continued. "It was before I was separated from my father. He and my mother would take me here every other weekend, and I loved it. Grandfather said that it was a waste of time. Looking back at it… I used to think that he was right. But…"
Kirigiri cut herself off, frustration coating her expression. Chiaki went to say something, but stopped short as Kirigiri stared at her with a gleam in her eyes that told her not to say anything. Chiaki got the impression that she wasn't necessarily the talkative type, and, if she were to guess, Kirigiri hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Venturing further in, as they passed several islands full of toys and various seasonal-themed collectables, Chiaki couldn't help but feel uneasy. It wasn't because of the lifeless toys vacantly staring back at her. It wasn't because of the sense of uneasiness that rested within her chest. It wasn't because of the feeling of not being wanted in the building.
It was none of that.
It was the sensation of knowing full well that there was a stench of death lurking within the building.
Chiaki, while aloof, wasn't so much of a fool to not know what the stench of death smelt like. A foul, pervasive stench that never belonged. But this wasn't like that of the stench of a corpse, or multiple corpses.
No.
This was beyond that.
This wasn't a physical death.
This was a spiritual kind of death. A death so profound that it damned even the worst kind of person.
That was when Chiaki saw it. All around the building, a faint glow of orange covered the entirety of the premises. They had been too late. The Flame had made this place their own, and they had been led into a trap—either that, or their intel was outdated.
Regardless of that, it hardly mattered.
This was no longer a recon mission.
This was survival.
The necklace around Chiaki glowed a faint mint green as a subtle glow emanated around her palm. Just as she did that, Kirigiri took a step back, shaking her hand as if it had been burned by something, as a haunting, echoing laugh reverberated throughout the museum. "Was that you, Nanami-senpai?"
"No," Chiaki replied bluntly, before turning on her heel and with a flick of her wrist, several wind-like daggers flung out from her hand and toward an orange cloaked figure. The cloaked figure was able to dodge out of the way of the attack as the wind daggers slammed into the wall behind her with enough force to create several small cracks.
"What the—"
"Ambush," Chiaki said, conjuring more wind in the palm of her hand. "Keep your guard up, and whatever you do, show no mercy."
"But—"
"But nothing," Chiaki interrupted, her tone flat, carrying a sense of heaviness that demanded attention. "These people kill without a care. They will not show you mercy, and as much as it pain's me, they are not human like you and I. They gave up their humanity the moment they sided with The Flame."
The frustrated and shocked look on Kirigiri's face made Chiaki cringe internally. Had it not been for her months of dealing with The Flame, she would have even chastised herself for how much of a monster she had been acting. To kill without thought… it made her no better than The Flame. But at least with her, she wasn't killing to bring about the end of the world. She was doing so to preserve it.
At least, that was how she reasoned it, anyway.
Several cloaked individuals came out from around corners, all adorned in orange cloaks, their eyes glowing a maddening yellow. They all wielded daggers, wreathed in the Frenzied Flame. They were surrounded—encircled with no possible exit. The only way out was to go through them.
Nervously, Kirigiri drew out the curved katana, holding it in front of her with a determined yet shaky grip. Chiaki held nothing, primarily because her weapon wasn't a traditional one. None moved, nor did they speak. Seconds felt like hours as Chiaki held her breath, bated, waiting for the first to strike.
Kirigiri's composure was slowly faltering. Pressure seemed to be getting to her. The sweat building on her forehead due to the proposed stress of the situation wasn't doing her any favors. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the cultists moved, lunging forward at Kirigiri. Panicked, Kirigiri swung the blade down in front of her.
Chiaki had expected some resistance to have been met—after all, blades like that one weren't good for cutting through cloth. So, when it effortlessly cleaved through the cultist like a hot-knife through butter, to say that Kirigiri and Chiaki were shocked—and Kirigiri mortified—was an understatement.
As the cultist's blood spewed from their body like a fountain, drenching Kirigiri's entire person in blood whilst it fell to the ground, neither of them were given a chance to allow what had just happened to sink in, as Chiaki was made to turn around on her heel to block an incoming dagger thrust from another one of the cultists.
A dagger of Chiaki's own manifested out of mint green-coloured wind, yet despite its properties, it was just as solid of a weapon as that of the flame-wreathed cultists. It was quickly made apparent that Chiaki was physically stronger than the cultist as she was able to force the cultist to let go of their weapon by shoving forward, the blade of her wind dagger hooking into the flame-wreathed dagger of the cultist, sending it flying out of their hand.
Without so much as a delay, Chiaki pushed forward, breaking the cultist's defence as she lodged the wind dagger into the cultist's jugular, causing them to fall to the ground, choking on their own blood. At the same time, a gurgling sound sputtered from behind her as Chiaki glanced over her shoulder, watching as Kirigiri had cut down another cultist in a panic.
"Back off!" Kirigiri shouted, her voice trembling. Despite the brave façade she had put on before, it was clear that when push came to shove, she was just like most other people—well adjust people, anyway. Obscene violence disturbed her. It was a shame then that she was dragged into this mess.
One of the cultists laughed, and when they did, they held close their hand to their face. Chiaki knew exactly what was going to happen—she had seen it happen before—and was quick to generate another dagger, throwing it with albeit mediocre precision as it lodged itself between the cultists' eyes. It would have been impressive had she not been aiming for their throat. The results were the same, though, as the cultist dropped dead.
The last three cultists didn't seem to learn from the other four, as two of them rushed toward Chiaki, whereas the third lunged at Kirigiri. Chiaki made quick work against the two that rushed her—rather than create a dagger, she generated a broadsword. Due to it being made of wind, it was insanely light; lighter than a leaf.
When she swung it, it cleaved through the two cultists with ease, cutting them in half at the waist; razor sharp winds made it easier to mulch through opponents, so it wasn't that much of a shock.
Again, though, what was a shock was that Kirigiri had the same level of ease when she split the cultist lunging at her in half, lengthwise. The two halves landed on either side of her, and when it was all said and done, she was covered in blood and hyperventilating. Panic had been written clear over her face, and her shoulders were so tense that they were probably as hard as wood.
"Kohai?" Chiaki spoke out, her voice carrying a hint of caution and concern. Kirigiri didn't move. She didn't speak. She simply stared forward, breathing ragged, expression twisted yet still into panic. It was only when Chiaki placed a hand on Kirigiri's shoulder that she snapped out of her panicked state, whirling around to face Chiaki.
This time, her expression was twisted into anger—not a completely visible one, although her lips were taut into a semi-scowl and her eyes gleamed with a rage so fierce that it even caused the ever-so aloof Chiaki to flinch, taking her hand off of Kirigiri's shoulder.
"What. Was. That?!" Kirigiri demanded, her voice raised—seemingly a rarity given what Chiaki knew of her.
"The Cult, or The Flame as Brooks-san calls them," Chiaki answered plainly, keeping her unease to herself.
"I figured that," Kirigiri said, narrowing her eyes as she glanced at her sword. "I meant the sword! I know I myself am not physically strong enough to cut through a person. I'm strong, but I'm not that strong. I—"
"The Split Soul Katana," a new voice rang out, causing both Chiaki and Kirigiri to turn toward the entrance of the children's museum. The voice belonged to what Chiaki could only describe was beauty made manifest in human form.
The individual in question, of whom was clearly female thanks in part to her well-endowed chest, had long flowing white hair that reached down to the small of her back. She was dressed in a short white dress that stopped just below her thighs, held in place by a black ribbon around her waist that tied at the back, alongside two thin straps on her shoulders. Her skin was eerily pale, much like Brooks. But unlike Brooks, it wasn't a sickly kind of pale, just a regular pale, like herself.
The woman's eyes were a scarlet red that pierced the soul, and in her right hand, pointed at the ground, was a large, thick bladed lance coloured black with a purple gem embroidered in the middle of the blade that glowed hauntingly. In her left hand was a golden staff with a red jewel floating above it which radiated a deadly power.
The air suddenly became several degrees colder, Chiaki's eyes transfixed on the woman. She could feel her heart beat slightly faster—whether it was out of fear or something else she didn't quite know.
The woman maintained her distance, her eyes focused on the weapon in Kirigiri's hand as she spoke. "A weapon that bypasses all physical defences and strictly targets the individuals soul. I do not know how you got your hands on such a weapon, young detective, but if I were you, I would be extremely careful with it."
There was a heavy silence that filled the room; mixed with the chilling temperatures, it didn't help the mood. The woman's eyes fell on Chiaki next, specifically at her necklace, and for a brief moment, her eyes widened—a blink and you'd miss it scenario. "An Ameno Vision? My, my~ it seems young Jolyne is quite fond of you, Nanami-san. To give you such a gift can only mean she's looking out for you. And to have permission from a Minor God of Wind to tap into their power? I underestimated the child. Her connections seem to run stronger than I thought."
It was at that moment when the woman finally seemed to realize that she had forgotten something, which was noted by how her expression changed from neutral to alert, before she smiled faintly, and the gleam in her eyes turned slightly apologetic. "Ah, where are my manners? I believe introductions are in order. Firstly, I already know who you are—it's my job to know that sort of thing anyway. As for myself, my name as far as you two need to know is Ms. Pluton."
"The informant?" Chiaki questioned, her expression twisting into confusion. However, before Chiaki could speak, Kirigiri beat her to it, asking the question that was on the two's minds.
"Did you know we'd be ambushed?! What's going on here?! Why are you—"
"Calm yourself, child," as Ms. Pluton spoke another cold chill raked across Chiaki's soul. She felt as if, at any moment, she would've been whisked away into some deep pit of death just by hanging around her for too long. As if she had dominion over souls and all things dead. The way her voice thrummed through both their bodies, and somehow made Kirigiri turn paler, was a testament to the fear that she commanded.
And then, as if she had done nothing, Ms. Pluton continued.
"I did not know that you would be ambushed by The Cult of The Frenzied Flame. Although, it is curious that they had been able to set up shop as quickly as they had. Usually, it takes them months. Here, it only took a few days. I wonder why?" Ms. Pluton paused for a moment, before huffing. "Not that it particularly matters. We are not done here yet."
"We?" Chiaki asked as Ms. Pluton smiled.
"Child, do you not see my weapons in hand? Did you think I came here for no reason? Tonight, we hunt a burgeoning Herald. Someone steeped in Frenzy that needs to be killed, lest they ascend past the first phase of attempting to attain lordship."
"No," Kirigiri said, casting a glare at the floor, her eyes lingering on one of the corpses, blood pooling on the floor as she winced. "I refuse… I won't… I can't—"
"Then stay out of it," Ms. Pluton replied, her voice carrying a hint of compassion. Kirigiri faltered slightly, staring at Ms. Pluton, who continued. "You do not follow the path of the warrior. You follow the path of the detective. I understand that. The many years I've lived have shown me that not everyone is built for power. You work best behind paper and logic. Right now, you are in a place bereft of logic and reason. Though, you would have to hand over your weapon. Such a thing can be even more dangerous in the hands of someone who knows not how to use it."
Kirigiri looked at the curved katana as a frown took up her visage. Chiaki could tell she looked conflicted—not because she wanted to fight, far from it. It was clear to Chiaki that Kirigiri didn't trust Ms. Pluton, and she caught on to that rather quickly.
"Ah. I see. You do not trust me with such a weapon. Far enough. However, should you keep on to it, you may find yourself attracting trouble. Don't say I did not warn you," Ms. Pluton said, before sighing. She walked past the pair as Kirigiri frowned, looking back at the Split Soul Katana, narrowing her eyes.
"I'm going back to the hotel," was all Kirigiri said before leaving the building. That left only Chiaki, who glanced back over at Ms. Pluton. It took a moment for her to decide what she was going to do, before ultimately following after Ms. Pluton. She had made a promise to Brooks-san that The Flame Cult would be dealt with before she got back, or at least a significant portion of it.
Catching up with Ms. Pluton, she stood beside her as she stared intently at a wall. "Do you see anything abnormal about it?" Ms. Pluton asked as Chiaki frowned, her eyebrows furrowing.
"No… But, if I were to guess…" Chiaki mused as she pointed her palm at the door. In the blink of an eye, a swirl of mint-green air slammed against the wall, and when it did, the wall vanished. Ms. Pluton smiled, casting a glance at Chiaki.
"What made you think it was an illusionary wall?"
"Brooks-san made me play Dark Souls once. If you think a wall is fake, attack it to see the truth. Since this place is magical in nature, it only made sense," Chiaki replied as Ms. Pluton chuckled, her laugh deep and melodic. Chiaki's heart raced for a moment, before she pushed the strange feeling in her chest down.
Venturing past the illusionary wall, they walked down a set of stairs that had clearly never been there before. This was new. The stairs were constructed out of black brick, singed with Frenzy—the glowing orange cracks gave it away. The deeper they went, the worse it got. Bonfires of Frenzied Flame lay about in random places, and it progressively felt as if something was watching them.
As they plunged deeper, Ms. Pluton was muttering about something under her breath, though what it was hard to make out, let alone understand seeing as it was in another language. It sounded familiar though—Novoselic had its own language according to Sonia, and it took her a month to prepare for her travel to Japan.
"The more I think about it… Is Ms. Pluton from Novoselic?" It was a question that she would have to ask at some point. Although, Chiaki did notice that Ms. Pluton had pointed ears, which were also like that of Sonia's… They had the same facial structure too… "No. Sonia said her mother died long ago…"
Chiaki decided that the train of thought wasn't necessary, and pushed it to the side. They had reached what appeared to be an antechamber of sorts, banners with a three-fingered mark surrounded by a flaming ring were adorned on the sides of the wall, and there were several lanterns that emitted the frenzied glow.
It was, in a word, disturbing.
Bodies littered the floor. Children's bodies. Their backs were arched backward, their hands covering their faces, and if Chiaki listened closely, she could make out wailing. They were on their knees, staring at the door. Their hands grappled their faces in a forever state of agony. It made Chiaki's heart wrench and her stomach tie into knots.
Vile.
Disgusting.
Abhorrent.
What was worse, though, was that they were adorned in Hope's Peak Elementary Division uniforms. Chiaki recalled Brooks mentioning something about a Monica Towa having been influenced by Frenzy. Did that mean…?
Not much affected Chiaki due to her lack of processing emotions. But this? Whatever was done to these children was enough to make her want to vomit. As for Ms. Pluton, her expression was that of an uncaring, cold, and standoffish demeanor. "Yet again, sacrificing children. I wonder when they'll find something new?"
"Do they do this often?" Chiaki asked, tension in her shoulders as she spoke.
"Yes, but nevertheless, what needs to be done must be done," and then, without any warning or care in the world, Ms. Pluton drove her lance through the head of one of the children. Blood pooled instantly around the child, as the others seemingly "woke up" from whatever comatose state they had been in. Their bodies twisted unnaturally, finally standing up in a hunched, almost twisted manner.
Chiaki repressed a gasp at seeing the sight before her.
The children… their eyes were replaced by daggers. Daggers that they ripped out of their sockets and had been coated in Frenzied Flame. They rushed Ms. Pluton and Chiaki, but all that happened in response was Ms. Pluton to wave her hand, and a row of spiritual skeletal hands to rip out of the ground and swat them away like flies.
They each impacted the walls around them, and with each impact a sickening crack echoed out for them—their necks undoubtably breaking in an instant. Chiaki never got the chance to react, so taken aback by the mere thought of children with no eyes rushing at her being nothing but nonsense.
Yet, that was the world she was dragged into.
The same world that she once only played video games in was slowly turning into something she'd see in a video game, meanwhile, the rest of the world was none the wiser.
"You must be quicker than that. I will not protect you next time," Ms. Pluton said, her voice cold, as the wall in front of them shifted. It sunk into itself, before sliding slowly to the left, revealing a long, drawn-out hallway with a red carpet and several Frenzied Flame torches.
"What is this…?" Chiaki muttered as Ms. Pluton hummed.
"I think I know why they were able to corrupt The Children's Museum as fast as they did. They have tunnels going across the country. Now it makes more sense why I couldn't track their movements as easily as I was able to in the past," Ms. Pluton noted, a smirk taking up her visage. "I'll give Enoshima one thing, she's smart when it comes to not being caught. But staying that way? Not so much."
Chiaki said nothing, too confused by what was going on. None of this made a lick of sense anymore. Underground tunnels that spanned the entire country? Sacrifices? Magic? She knew she had been introduced to such a world for the better half of two months, but still that didn't mean she liked it.
A promise was a promise, though, and Chiaki never broke her promises. So, deeper she went.
The hallway stretched on for what felt like forever. Ms. Pluton seemed to know where she was going, meaning that all Chiaki did was follow her like a lost duckling. They came across a few more frenzied individuals, but Ms. Pluton dispatched them before she could do much of anything. All it took was a simply swipe of her hand and a wall of skeletal arms would swat anything away.
The more she thought about it, the more Ms. Pluton seemed to be like Brooks in a way. The way she held herself and the way she controlled her power was like Brooks, just more restrained. As if she was holding back far more than Brooks ever had.
Which made Chiaki wonder what exactly Brooks and Ms. Pluton were. Clearly they weren't human—that was a given. But then, what were they?
"You are curious of mine and Brooks' true nature, aren't you, Nanami-san?" Ms. Pluton's question pierced through Chiaki's thoughts like a scolding arrow. Chiaki hadn't noticed it before, but now, they were staring at a door with several markings on it. All the marks look like fingerprints, which seemed to disturb Ms. Pluton. "But, for now, that nature can wait."
Ms. Pluton walked over to the door, placed both her hands on it, and pushed. The door gave way, and as it did, it seemed to crumble as if it had already been falling apart. Once they gave way, yet another staircase followed suit, although this one was much smaller, and it led to yet another hallway.
Once again, Ms. Pluton muttered something that Chiaki could not understand as they pressed further. When they did, Chiaki's eyebrows furrowed upon seeing something that, once again, looked like something out of Dark Souls. There was a thick wall of fog blocking their path, although it was tinted yellow.
"A… Fog gate?" Chiaki muttered as Ms. Pluton looked over at Chiaki with a sharp glare.
"You know what that is?" Ms. Pluton demanded as Chiaki flinched.
"Yes. They're a thing in Dark Souls. They block your path between yourself and a boss," Chiaki replied as Ms. Pluton's expression switched from annoyance to relief.
"Ah, my bad. Your ability to see this concerned me. Although, seeing as you can, that must mean you truly are connected to Brooks. It makes me wonder if it is because she gifted you that Ameno Vision…" Ms. Pluton said, looking back toward the fog gate and frowned. "Well, there is no time like the present. It is time for us to defeat the Would-be Herald beyond that door. Are you ready?"
"As ready as I can be," Chiaki said, determination burning in her eyes. Both of them stepped through at the same time, and when they did, they were met with someone dressed in an orange cloak, holding two curved straight swords wreathed in Frenzied Flame, their eyes glowing a bright orangeish yellow.
The arena they were in looked like a catacombs—skeletons lining the walls with several pillars keeping the roof from falling down. Frenzied Flame danced throughout the brick work, which further confirmed that this whole place was infested with the viral flame. What made it even worse was that Chiaki could feel as if something was clawing at her soul, trying to burrow in.
She resisted as much as she could. This was the first time she had ever been surrounded by this much of The Frenzied Flame. It was almost overwhelming, but she had dealt with worse. Maybe not like this, but there were times in Video games that she would be overwhelmed by their mechanics.
All she had to do was focus on the task at hand, and the current task was to beat this… thing. The Would-be Heard stared Chiaki down, tilting its head, before sneering—as if there was something personal in its sneer. That was when it charged.
They targeted Chiaki first, but Chiaki was ready. Her usual go to option was either her wind sword or daggers. But this time, she decided to go for something stronger; after all, hitting them harder when they were more resilient would break them down faster. In the palm of her right hand, wind converged into a ball, before it manifested into a massive twelve foot tall battle hammer with the head of the hammer being six feet tall and six feet wide.
Ms. Pluton blinked, and for a split second, she was impressed. It was the second strongest thing that Chiaki could manifest before she went for the nuclear option, and she hadn't done that since her last spar with Jolyne. She swung the hammer forward with ease, slamming into the Would-be Herald, knocking them to the left as the impact with the wall caused it to crumble, letting loose a few bricks in the ceiling.
However, despite the strength in the attack, it seemed to do nothing other than infuriate the Would-be Herald, as they did not relent. They leapt forward as Ms. Pluton covered for Chiaki by thrusting her lance forward, knocking the Would-be Herald back. Chiaki followed it up by leaping into the air and slamming the wind hammer down on their head, causing it to dissipate.
The Would-be Herald staggered backward as Chiaki landed in front of them. Blood dripping from their mouth as they hissed like a feral cat. They threw their dual curved swords to the way side, roared like a lion, before flames covered their hands. They lunged forward, a sonic boom following after it as Chiaki generated a shield out of wind to protect herself.
The Would-be Herald swiped once, shattering the wind shield before grabbing Chiaki by the collar, lifting her in the air, and spiking her in the ground. The brickwork cracked underneath the power of the attack, winding Chiaki in the process as blood and saliva flew out of her mouth. The Would-be Herald was about to follow up with a swipe aimed at her face, only for Ms. Pluton to thrust her lance forward, piercing The Would-be Herald in the chest, lifting them into the air, before throwing them across the arena.
"Are you alright, Nanami-san?" Ms. Pluton asked as Chiaki sat up, wiped at the corners of her mouth, her breathing ragged. Her chest felt like it was on fire. If she were to guess, a few of her ribs were probably cracked; and that was being generous. But, that didn't mean she couldn't fight.
"I can fight…" Chiaki grumbled, manifesting a wind sword as the pair looked back at the Would-be Herald. It let out a sickening roar, rushing forward once again as it manifested a massive claw made out of Frenzied Flame from its right hand. Ms. Pluton was able to dodge backwards, whereas Chiaki dodged to the left, just barely escaping the attack.
The Would-be Herald followed it up by another downward slashing attack, its left hand now generating the claw of Frenzied Flame. Chiaki back-stepped the attack, leaving them open as Chiaki threw a wind knife right at its throat. The Would-be Herald staggered backward, and just as it did, Ms. Pluton raised her staff upward as a purple light emanated from it.
A bolt of lightning blasted out of the staff, hitting the Would-be Herald in the chest as it flew backward into the wall, while at the same time, Chiaki threw several more wind knives at it in rapid succession. In between the powerful lightning spell and Chiaki's rapid knife throwing, the Would-be Herald finally dropped dead, sliding down the wall as it did. Then, a second later, it vanished into golden dust.
To say Chiaki was out of breath and in pain was an understatement. She had never been hit like that before. Not even when sparring against Brooks-san had she ever been hurt like that. Then again, she should've expected that, seeing as this wasn't a sparring match, it was the real deal.
"Well, that was easy. Although, considering this was just the first out of many chambers, my guess is that it's only going to get worse," Ms. Pluton said, frowning.
"Worse?"
"Yes, worse. That individual, who had been so close to becoming a Herald, was more than likely the reason this place was corrupted as fast as it was. But there will be more no doubt. Far stronger than even him. You took quite the blow, Nanami-san. Are you sure you can keep up?" The question was more like a taunt, and it irritated Chiaki. The one thing she despised more than people calling a game bad was being taunted about not being able to do something.
Perhaps it was her ego—the one flaw that she had that overtook the rest—but she could resist a challenge. That being said, it was getting late, and she needed rest. As much as it pained her to have to stop now, if she continued, she'd fear she'd fall asleep mid battle.
"I can keep up," Chiaki said, yawning as she spoke. "But I'm going to head back to my hotel… I need to sleep."
"Very well. Then may you sleep well, Nanami-san," and in a blink of an eye, she was standing in front of her hotel's front door. Confusion quickly overtook her visage as she looked around. How did that happen? Did Ms. Pluton teleport her here? If so, how? How was she able to do that? Chiaki blinked, looking back toward the door as she did.
It didn't particularly matter in the grand scheme of things. Tomorrow was going to be another day. She was going to tackle that dungeon again, hopefully with Ms. Pluton again seeing as if it hadn't been for her, she most likely would've been mortally wounded by that Would-be Herald.
Opening the door to the hotel, she was greeted by Hajime sitting at the edge of his bed, a contemplative look on his face as Kirigiri slept in the bed next to the one he was sitting on. There was a gleam in Hajime's eyes—the same gleam he typically had when he was being indecisive.
"Hajime?" Chiaki called out, snapping Hajime out of his trance. He blinked, looking over to Chiaki before smiling.
"Oh, it's you. Um… how was it—the Children's Museum, I mean. Was it as bad as we thought or—"
"Worse," Chiaki interrupted as Hajime flinched.
"How so?"
"There's an entire underground tunnel network underneath the building. When Kirigiri-san and I made it there, there were already cultists there," Chiaki explained, yawning. "Ms. Pluton was also there. We travelled the tunnels and found what I think was a catacombs. A fledgling Herald was responsible for it corrupting as fast as it did, and if it wasn't for Ms. Pluton, I probably would've been worse off…"
Another yawn escaped her lips as Hajime frowned, stroking his chin as he hummed. He muttered something under his breath—not that Chiaki was paying attention, she was too tired to do so. He cast her a glance, but said nothing as she sat next to him on the bed. "Where are you going to sleep?" Chiaki asked as Hajime raised an eyebrow.
"I slept all day. I'll be fine," Hajime replied, his voice a hushed whisper as Chiaki frowned.
"Oh."
"You sound disappointed."
"Not really," Chiaki said, stretching out as she did. "I just forgot."
"Well, if that's all," Hajime said as he stood up, "I'm going on a walk. I've… got a lot of things on my mind." And with that, Hajime left the room. Chiaki kept an eye on him as he did, concern gleaming in her eyes. Something was wrong. She had never seen Hajime with that look in his eye for any good reason. Something was bothering him, and he wasn't taking it well, resorting to the same tactic of "dealing with it himself."
Knowing Hajime, though, there wasn't anything that she could do. Not yet, anyway. When he was ready to talk about it, he would. Chiaki shuffled over to the pillows, and when she laid down, her face resting on its side, she caught a hint of Hajime's cologne. A warm feeling settled in her chest, but she forced it down.
No. It wasn't right to feel that way. Hajime was already with someone, and thinking those kinds of things about a taken man was wrong.
But, even so…
"I'm so pathetic…" Chiaki thought, frowning, burrowing under the covers and wrapping herself up like a mummy. Closing her eyes, she purged her mind of such inappropriate thoughts, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
[XXXX]
Blood sprayed across Jolyne's face as she stared down the third person she had killed today, her Slime Sword dripping in the lifeblood of the third contract that she needed to collect out of the twelve on her list. The first two had been easy to find, both of whom were living on West Polk Street, and both of whom were murderers, and thus, they got what they deserved.
When she showed up to her first contract, she was told about the idea of a "Threshold." Essentially, it was a ward against supernatural beings that weren't invited in. If they barged in, they lost a majority of their power, and it also applied to her as annoying as it was. While she was exempt from The Unseelie Accords—whatever those were—she wasn't exempt from the worlds rules. At least, the ones that could be enforced.
It was annoying how each time she wanted to commit to her contract she needed to be invited in, but that was easy with a simple activation of her Vampiric Seduction Perk. Then it was a clean and easy kill from there on out, absorbing their bodies whole by turning them into blood pools, adding to her already ridiculous level of strength.
No evidence meant no tying her back to her actions; not that she needed to be worried about it. It wasn't as if there was anyone who could press her without her immediately turning them to mulch, barring the literal Gods and God-like entities.
Staring down the body of a woman, Jessica Jones if she bothered to recall her name, Jolyne snapped her fingers as her body was reduced to nothing but a bloody pool before promptly being turned into a ball and melting into her palm.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the counter out of twelve go up by one, which brought her immense relief. She had been mislead by Mono in the past, so to say she was a little on the nervous side was a bit of understatement.
"Well, that's done," Jolyne muttered, putting her Slime Sword away back in her inventory before looking at the time. It was 8:45 PM. "Right, Dresden wanted to meet me at McAnally's by 9:00 PM. Guess I shouldn't keep him waiting…"
To be frank, she was dreading the interaction. Dresden didn't seem like the type of guy who reacted well to morally dubious things, let alone committed unto humans, regardless of their status. Although, to be fair, she didn't have to tell him anything about that. All he had to know was that she was here to do business, and to not get in her way.
No… that came off as too threatening. She didn't want to make an enemy of him—that would be a surefire way of doing that. How as she going to explain that she was, cutting all the fluffy language, and assassin for Lucifer meant to collect contracts from those who had made them, without explicitly saying that?
Then again… all Dresden wanted to know was how she knew him…. Technically, she didn't have to tell him anything. Technically, all Dresden had to know was that she was a Vampire that was given clearance by The White Council—whoever they were—to do what she came here to do, and that business was strictly to be known by the higher ups.
A small smile stretched across her face as she turned to face the unconscious family behind her. Jessica Jones had a family—a husband and a daughter. Frankly, it was kind of stupid for her to have done that knowing she had less than six years with them. But, then again, she must've thought it was all a dream or something akin to that.
It pained her to separate a family. Truly, it did. But at the same time, she didn't want to anger Lucifer, now did she? If there were three people that she didn't want to be on the shit list of, it was Lucifer, The Almighty, and The Greater Will and Lesser Mind; that was four entities and or people, but that didn't really matter now did it?
As for what it was that Jessica Jones had done to warrant a contract, the simple truth was that she had cancer. She was pregnant and she wanted to raise her child. So, she struck a deal with Lucifer to have her cancer removed and in exchange for her soul, she was given six years before it was time to collect.
It was unfair, but Contractors weren't allowed to extend deals on Lucifer's behalf. If she was allowed to, she would've. Unfortunately, it wasn't her call to make.
Looming over the duo's unconscious forms, Jolyne sighed, walking past them and out of the front entrance. As she did, she glanced over her shoulder and back at the apartment that she had just been in. Lakeview wasn't a particularly bad place to be at, but even so, it was far away from where she needed to be.
Not that she cared, mind you. She could clear the distance from here to McAnally's fairly quickly. Or, she could teleport. Either way, it didn't really matter. Without needing to say a word, Mono automatically took a sum of $200 from her funds and teleported her in front of the entrance of the pub.
The first thing she noticed was that it was located in the basement of a building. It wasn't loud and proud, it was very secretive—fitting, given that Magic here wasn't explicitly known. It was probably the only thing that was shared between her world and this one. The general populous wasn't really aware, aside from Hope's Peak back home.
Home… "The sooner I'm done with my contracts, the quicker I can go home," Jolyne thought, frowning. She still wasn't too happy over the fact that she was here. The only thing that she really wanted at this moment was to be home and patching things up with Hajime. Not off doing Lucifer's dirty work.
Complaints aside, putting on a neutral expression to better hide her frustration with being interrupted in her work, Jolyne gently opened the door to the pub, and when she entered, she had to admit, it wasn't what she had expected.
The pub itself was very old fashioned. It gave off a very 1300s bar feeling, and it nailed it. The place gave a sense of nostalgia that Jolyne didn't even know she had for architecture like it. Thirteen pillars stood about the building, each with what appeared to be fairytales from the earliest stages of human history carved into them in picture format.
The whole interior of the pub was made of wood, or at the very least the paint job around the place made it look the part whole heartedly. There were also thirteen fans, thirteen stools, thirteen tables with two chairs to them each, and the whole building gave off a very protective vibe.
Then, there were the people who were in there. All manner of individuals with varying appearances—all human—and they all looked to be from different parts of the city or perhaps even world. Jolyne didn't know, nor did she bother to ask.
Finally, there was the bartender. He was a balding man, buff as all get out, and was dressed in white shirt, a white apron, and a pair of black pants. As far as Jolyne was concerned, he was a human. But, when she tried to use Observe on him…
[Name: McAnally]
[?]
[?]
[?]
[Opinion of you: Interloper, but not a threat. Yet.]
"Okay… Mono?"
[I do not know how he was able to resist Observe. Either he has stronger magic than I believed, or, he is not a human. Whatever the case may be, I highly recommend getting on his good side.]
And on that Ominous note, Jolyne approached the bar counter, gave a quick glance of the menu above him, placed $25 on the counter and smiled. "One lemonade, please. Oh, and a Steak Sandwich. I heard those were really good."
McAnally grunted, taking the money and walked back to the kitchen behind the counter. Jolyne hung around the counter, waiting for Dresden. A few minutes passed, and McAnally came back with the lemonade and sandwich. Jolyne took the plate and glass, said her thanks, and walked over to one of the empty tables.
When she sat down, she couldn't help but feel McAnally's watchful eye loom over her. She didn't let it perturb her any as she ate. The sandwich was to die for. Each bite felt like a tiny slice of heaven dancing around on her tongue, and the lemonade was perfect. The ice-cubes were even made out of lemonade!
By the time she was all done, she took the plate and glass back to Mac—which was what she was going to call him from here on out seeing as McAnally was a mouthful—he grunted again and took the dishes away. Jolyne sat back at her table and kept an eye out on the door. Finally, after what felt like forever, the man of the hour walked through the door.
Dresden looked tired, and very annoyed. His hair was messy, his eyes looked heavy, and his shoulders were tense and he seemed to be on his guard. He was dressed in a brown leather duster, underneath which was a black shirt and pants held up by a belt alongside a pair of boots. He left what appeared to be a stick by the door, scanned the bar, and when the two of them glanced at one another, he walked over and sat across from her.
"Dresden, right?"
"Yeah, and I know who you are," Dresden said curtly, his tone clipped and on edge.
"You look like shit. Rough day?" Jolyne asked, to which Dresden grunted.
"I'm not here for small talk," Dresden stated bluntly, prompting Jolyne to roll her eyes, which didn't go unnoticed, although Dresden didn't comment on it. "Who are you, and how did you know who I was?" Dresden asked, although it wasn't much of a question more as it was a demand.
"I was told about you by my Boss, who's identity is entirely irrelevant. Just know that he knows of you because of your work with that Holy Knight you hang around," Jolyne replied, waving off the potential follow up question with a premature answer. "As for who I am, as you know, my name is Jolyne. I was told by The White Council that I am allowed to conduct my business within the city of Chicago without needing to worry about those on the council or The Wardens getting in my way. The only stipulation was that I had to report to you when I'm finished so that you can rely the information back to them. It was originally supposed to fall on Warden Morgan for that job, but my Boss had other ideas."
"Why would a Vampire need to work through the White Council," Dresden said as Jolyne sighed.
"Because I'm not part of any of the pre-established courts. I am not a White Court, Black Court, Red Court, or a member of the illusive Jade Court. Although, excluding the last one, I have attributes of all three. I can seduce whoever I want by persuasion with mental magics, I am Ageless like The Black Courts without the side effect of looking like a corpse, and I consume blood like both the Red and Black Courts. I can also manipulate blood at the atomic level, alongside a wide array of other abilities that would take a long time to list."
"And how am I supposed to believe that? You don't exactly—"
Before Dresden could finish his sentence, Jolyne tore the skin off a part of her arm, using Blood Manipulation to prevent it from spraying everywhere. Underneath was nothing more than muscle and bone, which Dresden recoiled at the sight of.
"I was told Red Court Vampires use flesh suits to hide their true appearance. As you can see, I am very much not a Red Court," Jolyne replied as she re-applied the strip of flesh to her arm. It healed over in an instant, which made Dresden blink in confusion.
"You can heal?"
"Yeah. If, for example, you burnt me to a crisp using fire or whatever else, I'd just heal the damage. The longest it's ever taken me to heal is a handful of seconds, and that was when half my body was destroyed in totality. Why? Can Vampires not normally do that?" When Dresden stared at her dumbfounded, Jolyne scoffed. "Wow, that's kinda pathetic."
"What the hell are you?" Dresden asked as Jolyne smirked.
"Like I said, I'm a Vampire. Just one you've clearly never seen of nor heard of before," Jolyne replied casually, waving off his question with a dismissive tone. "That, and I have no interest in humanity. Neither as a food source or anything else. While I can consume blood, I don't need to."
"Doesn't stop you from being a threat," Dresden stated as Jolyne scoffed.
"Touché, but that doesn't mean I am, now does it? So long as you keep to yourself and I to myself, neither of us will have anything to worry about. Let me do my business and I'll let you do yours. Should we ever cross paths, let it be as allies rather than enemies. I'd much rather have you as someone I can count on rather than someone I need to look over my shoulder for. Besides, it's not like I'm asking anything of you. I'm not forcing your hand or threatening you or your loved ones. That's gotta mean something, right?"
Dresden said nothing, but his expression was one of total distrust. She figured that would happen. Dresden struck her as the paranoid type anyway. Always distrusting, never believing in the good of anything other than a human. In a world where supernatural creatures ran rampant, that made sense.
She also wasn't entirely aware of the nature of these other Vampires. She only knew what Mono had given her the run down on earlier while she was hunting those who had made contracts. "Now, I believe we're done here."
"Hold up," Dresden began, his eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you doing here. What job did the White Council give you clearance for. Last I checked, they don't exactly like it when someone tells them what to do. You've got to have a lot of pull, or your boss does, in order to get them to bow out entirely."
"Well shit," Jolyne thought, frowning. "Like I said, that's irrelevant. If you really want to know, you can ask Warden Morgan or someone else from the White Council. I don't have to tell you anything more than I already have."
"You're here to answer my questions. Or are we going to have a problem?" Dresden said, a threat indicated in his tone. To that, a wide smirk took up Jolyne's expression, though she made no moves. She didn't want to damage this place. It looked too nice.
"You have no idea who you're trying to pick a fight with, Wizard. All you've got to know is that my business is the dirty kind. The kind that most people don't exactly have the guts to do, but is required to maintain balance. If you don't like that, then we can totally duke it out, but I'd heavily advise against it."
"So you kill people?" Dresden spat, a sneer on his face as Jolyne scoffed.
"I kill those who are already dead. Walking corpses who's time is already up. I'm just finishing the job. What's the issue with that? You care about corpses now, too?" Jolyne replied, her tone mocking as she stood up. Dresden glared at her, his expression barely containing anger. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the time on a wall clock above the bar counter, where Mac was keeping a very close eye on them.
"Oh, would you look at the time? It's almost ten o'clock. I've got places to be, and contracts to fulfill. I hope this was enlightening for you, Wizard Dresden. Have a good night," and without so much as a goodbye, Jolyne teleported back inside her hotel. She noted that Mono had indicated she had gone down 50 reputation points with Dresden, putting he well into the negatives.
Jolyne sat down on her bed, sighing. "Great. That went horribly."
[No thanks to your attitude and being confrontational.]
"Oh, bite me, Mono. He was being just as confrontational. Besides, I don't get why he cares so much about a bunch of random people who sold their souls. Not that he even knows that, but still!" Jolyne grumbled. "And even if I did tell him the whole truth, he would probably still view us as an enemy."
[Perhaps, but we won't know that, now will we?]
Jolyne stared out the patio window, before walking up to the sliding door, opening the sliding door and stepping out onto the porch. The clear night sky gleamed with stars shining bright overhead, even if it was hard to see due to the lights of the city. But that didn't stop Jolyne from being able to see them.
She didn't want to make Dresden her enemy. That was the last thing she wanted—not because she was afraid of him, but because the last thing she wanted was to have an enemy that she couldn't kill. The only question was "how?" How was she going to make Dresden her ally? He was already against her….
Maybe she could save his life from something? Nah, he didn't seem the type to believe in that kind of thing. After all, if she had to guess, a monster was a monster. Chances were, he was probably going to be against her, period. It was frustrating, and there wasn't going to be much that she could do about it, but then again that was just her luck.
[Why not take down a few more Contracts? Or, do you perhaps have something else in mind?]
Jolyne hummed, crossing her arms as she looked out over the city. She had only been here for a day and she had already taken care of fourth of the contracts. It wasn't as if she was working on a short deadline. She had at least two weeks. But, at the same time, the quicker she got home, the better. The less time she spent here, the quicker she could deal with Junko and the rest of the The Flame.
But, before she could respond, there was a loud knock at her door.
[To Be Continued]
[-Ending Song – request by: krage-]
Notes:
Yup! Another cliffhanger! Aren't I so nice? Anyway, hope you guys liked the chapter! I don't have much to really say, so instead, I'm just gonna jump straight to my response to reviews/comments!
(FF) AidenJacksonSmithDSBB: Yes, it is exactly as you think it is. And as funny as that would be, I don't think I could do A!Alucard justice. That creature is something else entirely. As for what Hajime is going to do… Wait and see :)
And… That's it. Huh. Oddly short, but whatever, lol. See ya'll in the next one! Peace out!
Chapter 8: Chapter 6: The Depths of Their Foolishness!
Notes:
Sup! Firstly, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. This chapter was a PAIN to write. I don't know why, but it just didn't feel right, and I'm still not that proud of it. But, I forced myself through it, and now it's here. A little late, but better late than never, I suppose.
Anyway, ya'll know the drill. Response to reviews/comments at the end. With out further or do, let the shitshow begin!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – by: GRANRODEO]
"I task you, oh great and old friend of mine, to take charge of these foolish Fallen Angels who dare try to usurp The True Fallen. Ensure their chains never rust, and their confines never decay. May they rot in stagnation for all eternity, ne'er to regain their true forms. The cost, of course, is for you to join them. But I know well and true that you know the heavy burden of a duty such as this, oh true, loyal ally of mine." - King of Hell, Lucifer, to A Demon Prince of Hell.
[Chapter 6: The Depths of Their Foolishness]
Jolyne stared at the door, head tilted with curiosity. She wondered, for a moment, if it was the man at the front desk? If it was, she had to have wondered why. Once again, the loud knock reverberated throughout the motel room. It was late, and it wasn't as if she knew anyone here. The only people who she could assume were behind the door was either Lucifer or, Almighty Forbid, Loki.
At first, she thought it ridiculous for either of them to knock instead of barge their way in, until she remembered the whole threshold rule. Although, would a motel room like this one have a threshold? Threshold's only existed if the individual inside believed their current location was that of a home. Jolyne didn't even remotely consider this place home, so that would be off the table.
The third loud, obnoxious knock reverberated throughout the motel, only this time it was somehow louder. It made Jolyne flinch, and it was at that point that she relented. Clearly, whoever was on the other side of the door was not mistaken for who was staying here.
Reluctantly, Jolyne opened the door. The person on the other side was not what she had been expecting, and thank The Almighty for that. The person in question was a man of tall stature, and a wide build. He had slicked back silver hair and stubble going across his chin stemming up to reach the rest of his hair. On his hip was a scabbard where in the hilt of a long sword was poking out.
The man was dressed in a silver cloak, underneath which was a black suit with a black shirt and tie below the aforementioned suit. His eyes, sharp and brown, pierced the soul. It even made Jolyne shudder briefly.
There was a judgmental glare in his eyes. Fierce, unforgiving, and very skeptical. His expression was drawn up in a scowl, and it was extremely clear to Jolyne that the man in front of her had no intention of being friendly. Which, upon using Observe, was made very clear to her.
[Name: Donald Morgan, Warden of The White Council]
[Level: 500]
[HP:190,670]
[Mana: Unlimited]
[Stamina: 60,000]
[Opinion Of You: A threat, but unable to deal with you due to an agreement with Loki and by command of The Merlin]
Promptly ignoring the horrific stats she was graced with, she dismissed the pop-up without a word nor movement and spoke. "Ah. You're Warden Morgan, right?" Jolyne asked, though garnered no reply aside from a disgruntled grunt. "Um… why are you—"
"I am warning you, Vampire," Morgan interrupted, his tone of voice harsh, and carrying with it a edge of seniority more than that of even Makaria when they first spoke. While perhaps not as old as Makaria, Morgan carried more weight in his words. "If you touch so much as a hair on any innocent people in this city, agreements be damned, I will hunt you till the day either of us dies."
Jolyne blinked, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression. What was with people assuming the worst of her? Was it seriously because she was biologically a Vampire? "I don't have the intention of doing so, Warden. Also, why are you saying Vampire like it's a slur?"
Morgan simply grunted, his glare never so much as changing as he pressed forward. "Did you meet with Wizard Dresden," Morgan said, spitting out Dresden's name with enough venom to kill a whole heard of elephants. Clearly, he didn't like the man. Not that Jolyne particularly cared to know the reason for it.
"Yeah, I did. Didn't exactly go well, but I'm assuming that was doomed to happen regardless," Jolyne replied as Morgan's eyes narrowed. Before he could speak, though, Jolyne continued. "Nothing happened between us. No fighting or anything like that. Just… a severe disagreement with my work—Also, do you want to come in? I don't know about you but it's rather chilly out there."
"I'm fine," Morgan bit out before huffing. "He is not the only one who disagrees with your work. The whole of the council is against it. If it weren't for The Winter Queen and that damnable Trickster God, we would have dispatched of you by now."
To that, Jolyne scoffed. What was it with Wizards thinking so highly of themselves. Although, Morgan might've been the only one that she had met so far that could probably put up a fight with her. Then again, she had yet to meet The Merlin, so she was mostly making assumptions. She also had no idea what else he had in terms of stats. For all she knew, he could've been a massive powerhouse with enough strength to overpower Makaria; though she highly doubted that.
Then again, she hadn't seen much from either of them, so she couldn't make a definite judgment. But that being said, she had a feeling that this probably wouldn't be the last time she had to deal with vampiric prejudice's. Dresden distrusting her was one thing, but Morgan seemingly hating her for existing was another.
Sighing, Jolyne rolled her eyes. "Well, Warden, I doubt that you could. But you're free to think as you please." As she said that, Jolyne noticed that there was a tick under Morgan's right eye. Let it be known that Jolyne was a rather huge fan of taunting those whom she disliked, and Morgan was getting to be pretty high up on that list of people.
"The White Council—"
"Save it, silver-hair," Jolyne interrupted, but Morgan continued unabated.
"—Does not trust you. You will only get one warning from me. If you show your true colours, which I know you will, foul monster, we will ensure your demise. That is all." And without another word, Morgan left. He walked away as if he hadn't threatened her, and if it were up to Jolyne, she would've made him explode from the inside out the second he turned his back.
Unfortunately, she really didn't want to have to deal with The White Council. Mono had told her very little about them, and from what she was gathering about them now from context clues, they seemed to be a protective bunch. Also highly secretive. Seeing as Magic was very much real here—she could feel it in the air she was breathing—and for regular people on the streets to not be casting fireballs they must've taken to great lengths to keeping it to themselves.
It was very Harry Potter of them.
Closing the door, she sighed. "Mono."
[Yes, Jolyne?]
"How did Morgan have infinite Mana?" Jolyne asked, walking over to her bed and laying down, propping herself up in a seated position as she snapped her fingers, changing out of her everyday attire and into a faded grey nightgown.
[Ah, yes. This world does not revolve around Mana to use magic. As a matter of fact, they do not cast spells. Rather, they gather willpower and shape it into magical abilities. For example: Someone's fire spell could look like a regular fireball, while others could look like an arrow made of fire. Magic is to the eye of the beholder in this universe. While we do not conform to it do to our nature as Systems, I can allow you tap into the power of Will. Although, it will appear differently for you, and at least to you, it will be far more useful.]
"Huh?" But, before Jolyne could ask further, a quest appeared in front of her.
[Side-Quest: Unlock Your Will]
[Description: Each living being has a Will they can manipulate and harness. To most, it is unobtainable and for those that can, in order to obtain, harness, and manipulate their Will, it takes considerable effort and power. But for you, due to what you are, it is just within reach. All you have to do is reach certain stat thresholds, and it will be yours!]
[Path of The Strong!]
[Requirements: Up Your Strength!]
[Atk: 6,596/7,000]
[M Atk: 10,490/7,000]
[Physical Strength: 9,650/7,000]
[Completion: 93%]
.
[Path of The Observer!]
[Requirements: Expand Your Mind]
[Mana: 94,245/100,000]
[Arcane Wisdom: 4,125/10,000]
[Completion: 46%]
.
[Path of The Conqueror!]
[Requirements: Have Both Path of The Strong and Path of The Observer completed, and have all stats at SS ranking or higher (excluding Faith)]
[Path of The Strong – 93%]
[Path of The Observer – 46%]
[All SS Ranks Stats – 4/12]
[Completion: 24%]
Jolyne stared at the three paths and the overall quest, and felt a migraine coming on. "This had better be worth it," Jolyne grumbled which earned a laugh from Mono—which caught Jolyne off guard, because sense when did Mono laugh?
[It will be very worth it, Jolyne. Typically, people your level would not even be remotely close to achieving the power that is behind these quests. Even someone like Makaria Plutos would be leagues behind stat wise to start The Path of Will quest. She is strong—undoubtably so. But not strong enough to wield what is behind these quests. Others, however, are different.]
"Wait, I'm confused. Whaddya mean? Wouldn't that mean Regulars couldn't use this at all? How can some be different than others?"
[Stat tokens, Remembrance Bosses both Optional and Story Based, and if luck just so happens to favour them, running into a Seven Member who can unlock further levels for those deemed "Regulars." I know not how Makaria has distributed her stats. But, what I do know is that she would not have gained enough Stat Tokens to unlock this Quest. At least, not as spread out as they would have to be. Because your stats are all over the place, this Quest has opened itself up to you. If I were, I would complete at least the first one, seeing as it is the closest to completion]
Jolyne hummed before dismissing the text boxes in front of her. She glanced over at her mini-map, moved it to the center, and tapped on it causing it to expand. The easiest way for her to increase her stats would be to do a few Dungeon Runs. But, after scanning the entire map of Chicago, she found none.
"A world with no dungeons?" Jolyne mused, narrowing her eyes. "That's… bizarre. Why wouldn't there be any dungeons?"
[Because this world is blocked off from The Greater Will and Lesser Mind's influence… for the most part. Fate still acts as it normally would, but neither The Greater Will or The Lesser Mind can add, take away, or create things here that aren't already here due to the Threshold surrounding the planet, alongside The Wall. In other words, it would be impossible for The Greater Will & Lesser Mind to create Dungeons for you to use. Meaning that, even if you do not want to at the moment, the only way for you to level up right now would be to complete your contracts.]
Jolyne sighed, looking over the remainder of her list. Nine contracts remained, and in one of them, that Demon she was warned about was going to be there. She also had to be careful, because Dresden would more than likely try to stop her if he got the free time.
There was also the possibility that he wouldn't, though. After all, he seemed to be a pretty busy man. That, and realistically, she could probably get all of the targets dealt with before sunrise. Then, at that point, the only thing tying her to this world would be dealing with that Demon, assuming she didn't already deal with them before leaving.
She wasn't messing around anymore. She had things that she needed to get done back home, and as much as she trusted Chiaki, Hajime, and maybe Makaria, she didn't want them to be dragged into this mess any further than they had to be.
Pulling up the list of contracts, Jolyne frowned. The next one on the list belonged to an individual named Gus Waterson, Black, 29 years old, high-school dropout. He lived in Little Village, and was known to sell drugs to help his little brother get through college—a noble goal but with bad methods.
He was primarily known to sell crack and cocaine to anyone with a deep wallet. He sold his soul to increase his sales, and according to the additional information about him, he was a prime suspect in several murder cases, and was actively being watched by police.
It would make things difficult, but it wasn't as if she couldn't disguise herself as a potential buyer. His home was a drug den. All she'd really have to do is approach the door, do her usual routine of activating Vampiric Seduction, get an invite into his home to cross the threshold, then kill him.
"And just when I wanted to get some sleep, too…." And with that thought, she snapped her fingers, returned to her usual attire that was quickly masked by the "modern" clothing to prevent her from looking out of place, stepped out the front door, and just as she was about to spread her wings, she caught a glimpse of two familiar individuals wearing tennis attire.
"The Hamilton Twins?" Jolyne mused, raising an eyebrow. Instead of unfurling her wings, she leapt down from the balcony, causing a slight thud to echo out. It prompted Kyle to look over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing upon recognition.
"Ah. Just the person we were looking for," Kyle said, his voice raspy. Maybe he injured his throat at some point? Not that Jolyne particularly cared. Jolyne met him halfway, which went to show just how tall he was in comparison to her. Kyle was easily five inches taller than her, giving him a more… imposing presence. Certainly more intimidating to mortals, that was certain. But she had killed bigger, badder creatures before.
"You were looking for me?"
"Yes," Kelly said, a sneer on her face. "What was your business with The Wizard?"
"Wrong question," Kyle spat, glaring at his sister. "Although I am curious about that, my question is if you have heard about Bianca's Ball."
"Who's what?" Jolyne questioned as Kyle scoffed.
"You're a Vampire, and yet you claim to not know anything about Lady Bianca?"
"Kinda new here. Sue me," Jolyne replied as Kelly crossed her arms.
"Even new Vampires, regardless of Court, know who Lady Bianca is. Though, I suppose we can give you a pass…." Kelly began, her left eye twitching. "In that case, all Vampires are welcome to attend this party, which is meant to celebrate Bianca St. Claire's ascendency to the rank of Margravine within The Red Vampire Court. I take it this hotel is your address?"
"For the time being. I'm here for a month."
"Good," Kyle said. "We will deliver an invitation to this address shortly before sunrise. The festivities begin at midnight tomorrow. You are expected to have your invitation on hand to verify your guest status. Although, I must ask, which Court do you belong to? You are not like us, and from what I can tell, you most certainly are not a part of the Black Court. You aren't White Court either, though are in their age range of new inductees…."
"I belong to no Court," Jolyne replied briskly. "I was not turned by a Black Court nor was I born in any of the houses of The White Court. I sacrificed my humanity during a ritual passed down to me by my forefathers. Our kind was… extinct for a long time."
"Extinct? So I take it you're going to try and bring your Court back then, I imagine?" Kelly questioned, her voice containing a more serious edge to it.
"Potentially. I haven't quite decided yet. It wasn't as if we meant much of anything even when we were around. I doubt there are even any history books about us, considering how irrelevant we were," Jolyne continued. If she could sweat, she would be right about now. Why was she lying like this? This was only going to get her in a worse situation.
"Oh well, I'm in too deep now," Jolyne thought, sighing. "That being said, I'm famished. I'll get out of your hair for now." Just as Jolyne was about to turn away, she felt a strong vice-like grip grab onto her shoulder, and without so much as saying a word she spun around, grabbed the wrist of whichever of the twins who grabbed her, and squeezed with enough force to break bone.
Kelly took a knee, grunting as she fell. Kyle was about to say something, only for Jolyne to swap out her Summon Hell Hounds with Vaporizing Freeze Technique, causing ice to begin to travel up Kelly's arm, and cover it up to her elbow. Her eyes widened, astonished. Jolyne had half the mind to shatter the arm just to prove a point, but, she decided against it. "Touch me again, either of you, and I'll lobotomize you with my finger nail," Jolyne spat, letting go, before unfurling her wings and flying off.
She hated being touched by people who gave off creepy vibes. And those two? They were creepier than all get out. Pushing that to the side, she had other, more important matters to attend to now.
"Now then, time to find Gus."
[XXXX]
Kotoko wasn't exactly thrilled to be living with The Naegi's. Don't get her wrong, she liked Komaru, but her doormat older brother was extremely boring to be around. He had next to no personality, and his parents weren't much better either.
It could've been worse, she supposed. But still, that didn't change anything. It was very drab, and not very adorbs.
At least the food was good. It was better than instant ramen and take out, that was for sure. Dad knew how to cook, but the food that Komaru-chan's Mom and Dad made was amazing.
And for as much as Teruteru-san was good at making food, Kotoko discounted him entirely because he was creepy and gross and weird. She distinctly remembered that he had attempted to trick Nevermind-san into "sucking the poison out of his purloins", and it immediately put him on her "demon" list. Demon, meaning disgusting people.
As of right now, Kotoko was sitting on the air mattress that she was given to sleep on. It was inside Komaru-chan's room, so at least she didn't have to worry about anything….
She knew she was being a little unreasonable with how she distrusted boys, Masaru, Dad, and Nagisa being the only exceptions. She knew that Komaru-chan's big brother wasn't like those other guys—as a matter of fact she was pretty sure he would curl up in a ball and die before even so much as thinking about something as repulsive and not adorbs as that.
But… she couldn't help it.
She couldn't help not trusting him.
It wasn't because she didn't want to….
It was because she was afraid.
She was afraid of it happening again, and that no matter how strong she was now, no matter how much training Mom had put her through in the last two months, it didn't change how afraid she was.
Putting those thoughts to the side, currently, she was reading one of Komaru-chan's shoujo manga that she hiding under her bed. It was called Citrus, and she had only just started reading it. It was like… the first chapter in the first volume, and she had only read the first few pages.
It was a little… odd.
Kotoko wondered why it was hiding under Komaru-chan's bed? Was it raunchy? It didn't seem like that to her.
Sighing, she got bored and put the book down, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she looked at the time on the alarm clock next to Komaru-chan's bed. It was Sunday, so school was out. But Komaru-chan was at a friends house. Someone by the name of Kaede. A piano nerd, and someone Komaru-chan had known for a while now.
Also, Kotoko had figured something out almost immediately when Kaede, or Akamatsu-san, had picked her up.
Akamatsu was 100% gay.
Or, was it les… whatever the word was. Kotoko only knew what "gay" meant because Aiyaka had explained what it meant when Kotoko had overheard a conversation and she asked. If gay meant boys liked other boys, that it also meant the same thing with girls.
And Akamatsu was definitely gay.
Oh, and she totally liked Komaru-chan. Like, it was almost hilarious how dense Komaru-chan was about it, too.
The door to Komaru-chan's bedroom opened, and it made Kotoko stiffen—a strangers house was still a strangers house, and there was no way she was going to be comfortable here.
The person who had opened the door was Komaru-chan's mother. Suki Naegi, a very kind, caring individual. Not that Kotoko trusted her, but… she was getting there.
Suki Naegi had a striking resemblance to, of all people, Sayaka Maizono. She had the same hairstyle, except it was a dark shade of brown. She had the same rounded, beautiful face, and her eyes matched her hair. She was of average height and build for someone in their mid 40s, and she was dressed in an off-white summer dress, coupled by a white bead necklace.
"Utsugi-chan, could you come out here for a second?" Suki asked, a bright smile on her face as Kotoko repressed the urge to narrow her eyes. Begrudgingly, she stood up and followed Suki out of the bedroom. When she did, she was met with someone who she never thought she'd ever see again.
Not because he himself was a bad person, but because she had seen him before—only once—and it had been at that god-awful mansion.
The man in question was tall, with short, shaved, red hair and cold deep yellow eyes that pierced the soul. His skin was tanned, and his face was adorned with freckles that made his seemingly endless neutrality look pleasant. The only thing that she didn't recognize was his lack of a suit. Instead, he was wearing pair of dark blue jeans, a white tank top with a red Varsity jacket overtop, the front of which being unbuttoned.
"Hello, Utsugi Kotoko. Long time, no see," The Cyborg said, his expression retaining its neutrality, even as Kotoko felt a fiery urge to bullrush him; call it foolish or impulsive, but either way, she wanted to bash his head in.
"Oh? You know Utsugi-chan, Daimon-san?" Suki asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yes. Under her former guardian, was tasked with managing a security detail that protected the family home," Daimon-san—ironically the same last name as Masaru-kun—said, crossing his arms. "Although, this was before I knew about what went on at that house. Didn't know anything until after the building had been attacked and everyone save for Kotoko having been killed."
"Attacked?! Oh my, that's awful!" Suki said, eyes widened as Daimon-san scoffed.
"Nah. In hindsight, it was a blessing. Dunno why we even bothered protecting them, honestly. Sick bastards…"
"Huh?" Suki murmured, prompting Daimon to wave her curiosity away.
"Don't ask. Not my story to tell," Daimon replied before cracking his neck to the side. "Anyways. What've you been up to kiddo? Your new guardian treating you well?"
"My Mom is the nicest, bestest person in the whole wide world, and she could totally kick your butt if she wanted to," Kotoko hissed. Suki recoiled slightly as Daimon chuckled deeply, his baritone voice making him sound almost delighted at the prospect.
"Ugh, Yakuza… buncha weirdos…"
"Utsugi-san—"
"It's quite alright, Naegi-san," Daimon interrupted, chuckling still. When he finally got over himself, he sighed. "I don't doubt it, kiddo. I mean, she was the one who wiped out The Kuzuryu Clan, so I doubt one lousy former enforcer could put her down."
"I'm still not happy that you used to be Yakuza… You never told us that when Natsuki-chan introduced you to us," Suki said, frowning.
"Didn't want ya'll to judge me. That's all," Daimon said, before bringing his attention back to Kotoko—and she really wanted him to leave. To go away. She didn't want to be reminded of her past, even if it had only been a few months ago. "But hey, since you're here… This is gonna sound pathetic, and… fuck it. Do you remember Hana?"
"Hana?" That was a name that Kotoko hadn't heard in a long time. Hana was her bodyguard. The only one of those Kuzuryu people that tried to make the terribleness a little more tolerable. The one who would play games with her, brush her hair, watch movies and even stood up to Aiyaka a few times.
Hana, before Mom showed up, was her hero.
But, when Mom came to save her, she assumed that Hana died in the crossfire. Mom was very indiscriminate when it came to killing the bad guys, and as much as Kotoko hated to admit it, Hana was with them.
Hana was just as much of a bad guy as the others. Just because she tried to help, even if it was in her own, special way, she didn't try to stop it. Part of that might have been because she had no real choice in the matter but….
"Yeah, I remember Hana-chan."
"She's missing."
"I thought Mom killed her," as Kotoko said that Daimon scoffed.
"Nah, Pekoyama rescued her shortly before she kicked the bucket. She was staying at a hospital in Tokyo. I forgot the name of it, but it doesn't matter. She was going to be discharged in the next few days, and she had been kept out of the loop. I told her what happened, she went into a depressive episode, then I got a call from the hospital saying she vanished a day later."
"That sucks," Kotoko murmured, feeling an itchy sensation tickle in the back of her mind. Hana wasn't one to just… run away. She had known Hana for a year, and she was pretty stubborn. "Don't make sense though…"
"Were you and Hana close?" Suki asked. Kotoko didn't say anything, which prompted Daimon to speak up.
"Yeah, they were close," Daimon replied, before taking a seat in one of the couches, the metal creaking as he sunk into the cushion.
"Would you like some tea, Daimon-san?" Suki asked, earning a nod from the man. "I'll go get that started then." As Suki said that, she vanished toward the direction of the kitchen, leaving Daimon and Kotoko alone.
Kotoko was tempted to leave. She had no reason to be in his presence any longer, but… "Why did you tell me that."
"Hm?" Daimon hummed, quirking an eyebrow.
"Is Hana… really gone?" Kotoko pressed, her eyes glimmering with a faint flicker of hope. Daimon grunted, adjusting his jacket collar.
"She ain't dead. She's just missing. Knowing Hana, she's probably looking for your, uh… Mother, I guess," Daimon said as Kotoko held her tongue. She didn't want to say anything. Uncle Lucifer had taken her to America. Daimon didn't need to know that, though. Not that she was worried that Mom would lose to Hana—that was never going to happen.
But, she didn't want Hana to get killed.
"That's kinda stupid. Mom would kill her…" Kotoko said, frowning. "Does Hana want to die?"
"Maybe?" Daimon threw out, shrugging his shoulders. "But… I think, if there's anyone who could convince her to stop, it'd be you."
"Huh?"
"I'm not stupid," Daimon added, grunting. "You've got a look in your eyes kid. The same look that Hana has. You've been trained to fight, haven't you? That Brooks kid is pretty strong—strong enough to wipe out the entire Kuzuryu Clan in a single afternoon. I wouldn't be surprised if she trained you, and by that look on your face, I'm right, aren't I?"
Kotoko looked at Daimon, stupefied. That only lasted for a few seconds as it gave way to frustration.
"Stupid adults…" Kotoko thought, before walking over to the chair across from Daimon, and sat down. She didn't say a word. She just stared. Stared at Daimon, knowing full well that he knew about her secret.
No one at school knew that she could probably beat up all the bullies there in a single hour.
None of her friends knew what she was capable of.
And it was all to save Monica.
That was her goal. To save Monica from that evil flame.
But, if Hana was in trouble, she'd divert her time to do that. After all, Hana might have been there at that crappy manor, and she might have known about what happened, but Kotoko was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was pretty sure that Hana probably had her hands tied behind her back, what with how strict Yakuza codes tended to be.
A look burrowed its way into Kotoko's eyes. One wrought with determination. And it was that look that finally got that annoying, neutral expression on Daimon's face to finally change to something else.
A smirk.
"I take it you're gonna help me?"
"Yup. Hana's a friend. I help my friends, no matter who they are."
Mom trained her for this. To save people. Just like how Mom saved her, it only made sense if she repaid that kindness to someone else.
"Well, if you're going somewhere," Suki's voice called out from behind the chair as she held two cups of tea, that same smile on her face from before. "At least wait to finish your tea. I'd hate to have it wasted."
But first, it was tea time, and Kotoko really liked Suki-chan's tea.
[XXXX]
Kyoko was conflicted.
On the one hand, her father by blood and blood alone hired her to look into The Flame Cult that had appeared a few years ago; or at least made it's first public appearance a few years ago. But, because he was paranoid, he stuck her with two bodyguards. Those two bodyguards being two upperclassmen, Hinata Hajime and Nanami Chiaki.
While Kyoko had heard whispers of magic actually being real, she had dismissed it as just a rumour propagated by those with over-active imaginations. Even the videos and news clips that she had witnessed online, she had seen them as nothing more than overly edited videos.
After all, magic was fake. It was not real. It was a thing of fantasy and fantasy alone.
So, when Kyoko and Nanami were investigating The Children's Museum, and they were attacked by burning-eye thralls, and Nanami started throwing ethereal green daggers that appeared out of thin air, Kyoko's whole world shattered.
Magic was real.
What was worse, was that she was given a weapon that could cut through someone's soul. A perfect killing blade, and she was given it.
Although, maybe she should've clued in that magic was real earlier than the museum, due to the fact that the weapon came from a coin.
Either way, that didn't matter. The how's or the why's were not relevant.
What was relevant was when.
When did magic start appearing? Was it during the medieval era, or was it even earlier than that? Had magic always been a thing? Was the government aware of it? Were they using it, and simply keeping it a secret?
Her mind filled with questions, and it made it incredibly difficult to sleep. While Hinata guarded the room, and as both herself and Nanami slept—or in her case as she tried to sleep—Kyoko's mind continued to be plagued by the implications of magic.
Brooks was one thing. She wasn't human. That, Kyoko had figured out after having met her. She had fangs and claws, and while that should have been her indicator of something being not being right, she dismissed the idea whole-heartedly.
Or, to put it bluntly: She ignored it.
She did the one thing a detective should not do, and ignore evidence.
Evidence that the world was not at all what it seemed to be.
And it was driving her mad.
"Can't sleep?" Hinata said, his tone hushed as Kyoko sat up, looking over to the entrance. He was standing there, leaned against the post as he polished what appeared to be a hand canon. If it wasn't for his license's, she'd chastise him for having them. "We can take this outside. Chiaki seemed pretty drained."
Kyoko glanced away, not knowing what to do. Hinata was a kind person. Kinder than most, actually. Down to earth and, compared to some of her co-workers, not a creep. Most men in the police force were—at least, the more prominent figures, anyway. The Asakusa chief was more than a little pervy, and she dreaded having to talk to him again.
In any case, Kyoko sighed, flipping the covers off as she stood up. Her sleep attire consisted of a pair of black shorts that stopped above the knees, and a loose fitting light purple tank top. Hinata nodded, as the two stepped out into the hall, the door closing behind Hinata, as the two stood across from one another.
Hinata had changed in between the last time she saw him to now. No longer was he wearing his get up from this morning. Now, he was dressed in a long-sleeve beige shirt, a pair of black pants, and a pair of suspenders to keep his pants from falling. She had no idea why suspenders, though considering the left strap at a gun pouch on it, she had to assume it was for convenience.
"So," Hinata began as he crossed his arms. "What's on your mind, Kirigiri?"
"Magic," Kyoko replied, her tone blunt.
"Ah. Gotcha. Lemme guess, never thought it was real until today, yeah?" Hinata questioned as Kyoko narrowed her eyes, glaring holes into the ground at her feet.
"How could I not? Magic is, was, nothing more than mere fantasy. A lie to tell ourselves so that we could escape from the dregs of society. So, for it to be real…. It makes no sense!" Kyoko spat, frustration brewing under her skin. "If magic was real… then why hasn't corruption been thwarted? Are people with magic cowards, or do they seem themselves above us? I mean, Brooks is a prime example. If she was so powerful, why not just get rid of everyone who would harm humanity?"
"Probably because she doesn't want to," Hinata replied, shrugging. Kyoko glared at him for that, but Hinata continued on regardless. "I mean… I get it. Really, I do. It's… frustrating, trying to come to terms with things we either don't understand, or… misunderstand. But—at the same time, to put that kind of pressure on one person, it has to be hell. Not to mention, for all we know, those people who have magic could want to harm humanity. Think of The Flame. They want to end the world."
"But that doesn't mean there aren't others out there who can help," Kyoko retorted, shaking her head. "I just don't get it…. It's illogical. None of it makes sense. I was raised to always see things from a logical perspective. But after seeing what I've seen… After I… I…"
Her thoughts lingered on the people that she killed.
Killed….
Kyoko Kirigiri, Ultimate Detective, was a killer.
She had murdered multiple people in the span of several minutes, and it had only just dawned on her now….
"It's setting in now, right," Hinata said as Kyoko's pupils dilated. Goosebumps spread across her skin as she looked at her left hand. She could only see them covered in red. Sickly, putrid red.
"Oh my god…."
"Don't worry, you get used to it. Eventually," Hinata said, reclining against the wall. "No one ever said saving the world from a death cult was going to be spotless."
"How can you be so nonchalant about this?!" Kyoko shouted, glaring at Hinata, who looked at her with vague disinterest. "I—We—You—Murderers! We're murderers! Brooks is too, a-and… Oh, oh my god…. My father orchestrated this, didn't he… He's…"
"Kirigiri-san?" Hinata questioned, his expression defaulting to neutral. And whereas to normal people, they would've see him have a hint of sympathy on his face. To someone who was panicking…. To Kyoko, she saw a glare.
A glare filled with only a single intention.
To kill.
To shut her up.
After all, she knew too much.
She should've known her father was scum. He was just trying to silence her. Trying to trick her into letting her guard down, all so that he could get rid of any ties to his family.
She left the sword back in the room. She didn't have it on her. She couldn't defend herself—not adequately, anyway. Martial arts only went so far, and she doubted Brooks didn't teach him how to fight.
So, instead, she did the only thing that she knew she could do.
She ran.
Kyoko bolted, shocking Hinata, but she didn't care.
She ran, and ran, and ran. Down the hallway, through the stairs, making it to the first floor in just a few seconds.
But she wasn't fast enough.
Hinata, somehow, had caught up to her, and grabbed her by the back of her shirt, lifting her in the air with zero effort. Kyoko was about to scream, but Hinata covered her mouth. She bit down on his palm, but he made no reaction save for a grunt.
"Kirigiri. Relax," Hinata said, his tone low, quiet enough so that only she could hear. Her whole body went rigid, and from the reflection of the glass doorway in front of her, she noticed something was… off about Hinata.
Specifically, Hinata's eyes.
They were a pale-ish, blueish green normally.
So, then… Why were they a deep, murky crimson?
Those eyes…. They didn't belong to Hinata. Hinata's eyes were wide, and reflected in them the world. But these eyes… They reflected nothing but misfortune and death. The sign of someone with not only the ability to kill, but the barely restrained urge to do so. Kept back by purpose or perhaps a promise.
All of the sudden, Hinata seemed different. The air around him twisted, as if actively repulsed by his very existence, and it became intensely difficult to breath; though that might have been due to the panic she was feeling.
"You needn't be afraid. You are safe. Neither I, nor Nanami, will hurt you. Your father only has his best intentions in mind for you, and believes that you will be the one to lead us to the main base of The Flame. I, as well as many others, are putting our faith in you. Do not allow for a tiny amount of bloodshed to scare you off. You are stronger than that. After all, a great detective does what needs to be done in order to succeed, do they not? Why falter over a few corpses? Corpses of those who have hurt the innocent—the very people you swore to protect."
His voice, once natural sounding, was replaced by what felt like a million different echoes reverberating throughout her skull. Trying to break through whatever kind of mental barrier she had. The kind of voice that rotted the brain into a sense of ease and comfort. Smooth, yet course. Professional, yet also weirdly sensual in a way that Kyoko couldn't quite describe.
He paused, but only for a moment, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as Hinata tempered himself, before whispering something in her ear. A question. A simple, basic question that, for someone reason, made her blood boil.
"Let me ask you something, Kirigiri Kyoko. Are you a coward?"
Without thinking, Kyoko elbowed Hinata in the stomach, making him let go as she spun on her heel, grabbed him by the collar, and forced him to her eye level. "Never. Call me. A coward."
It was weird…. She had never felt this angry before. Never in her life had she ever felt that kind of outburst of rage. It was… completely out of character for her. But, something about being called a coward tickled her brain in such a way that it made her want to punch Hinata in the face.
Memories, if but brief, of a mansion in a wintry landscape caused her to freeze up, letting go of Hinata as she stumbled backward. Hinata's now crimson red eyes bore holes into her, before he blinked, prompting his eyes to turn to normal. Confusion briefly appeared before disappearing. A literal blink and you'd miss it.
But Kyoko caught it.
"Something… isn't right."
"Gotcha. But, um… We should probably head back," Hinata said, gesturing to the stairs. Kyoko blushed with embarrassment. She looked like a fool, and it was increasingly annoying. Thankfully, there was no one there to witness what had happened. She didn't need her public reputation to be tarnished.
But, as they walked up the stairs, away from the entrance, Kyoko couldn't help but wonder what that had been about. She was still uncomfortable and completely disgusted by the actions committed today. She highly doubted that she would ever be okay with it.
And while that was the crux of the issue, her concerns were now aimed at Hinata. No one's eyes simply changed colour on a whim—even if magic was real, biology was still something set in stone, and that could never be changed. Not unless it was over the course of decades via the natural aging process.
The voice shift, the eye colour switching, and the general demeanour and attitude adjustment was completely unnatural.
So, that only left Kyoko with just one question.
"What the hell is going on with Hinata Hajime?"
[-To Be Continued-]
[-Ending Song: request – by: krage-]
Notes:
I know: All this time and a such a short chapter. But, at the same time, you have to understand that this chapter was not a fun one to write. It also doesn't help that I have been having severe writers block. But, I pushed through it enough to finish this chapter. Hopefully, though, it goes away soon. Because otherwise this is going to take unnecessarily long to finish.
Anyway, enough of that. Response to reviews/comments!
(Qoutev) Sunky Addict: I'm glad you liked it! Yes, I gave Chiaki an Ameno vision lol. Figured it was the only power I could give that would suit her laid back nature.
…and that's it! Whelp, not much to really say here. I'll see you all in the next chapter. Peace out!
Chapter 9: Chapter 7: Drug Dens and Police? Oh my!
Notes:
Back at it again with yet another chapter. Don't really have much to say, so, ya'll know the rules. Response to reviews/comments at the end of the chapter. With that being said, let's get right to it!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – By: GRANRODEO]
"The bell tolls, O' Lord of antiquity. Soon, thy death shall be had…" – The One Marked by Nanabush, to the false King of Demons.
[Chapter 7: Drug Dens and Police? Oh my!]
Finding Gus Waterson was easy. His house was one of the only ones with garbage bags littering the front lawn, bordering on spilling over on the sidewalk. It was unkempt, dirty, and fit the typical description of what a drug den typically looked like. Boarded up windows, faded paint, and even someone sleeping on the front porch.
She stalked the front of the house from a distance, leaning against a lamp post, arms crossed and eyes trained the building like a hawk to potential pray. Now that she had actually thought about it, she was hungry. While she was a Draculina, that didn't mean she didn't need to consume blood. She still needed to. Jolyne simply didn't have the unending urge to do so.
It was late. She had been stalking the front of the house for the last several hours, biding her time, waiting. It wasn't like she was in a rush, was she? It was 7:15 pm, and the sun was going to set very soon—in an hour from now, if she had to wager a guess.
In that time, she had bore witness to several people enter and exit the house. It had to be at least twenty people, all over the course of the last few hours. They had come in with some amount of money, then walked out with some kind of product. Their ages varied from young adult to in their mid 50s.
It was interesting, in a disturbing kind of way. The kinds of people who purchased drugs were different, and while it was all for the same reason—to get high—their stories about how they got into illicit substances were different. Not that she had personally listened to them or knew them. But she could tell that a few of them started it on a whim, and others sought it out to probably forget something.
"Well, I should probably get this over with…" Jolyne mused, standing up straight before walking across the road. She had wasted enough time standing around. She probably looked suspicious as hell from Gus's point of view, but it wasn't as if she cared. But, just in case, she made sure to have Vampiric Seduction on standby.
As she approached the house, she made sure to check if the coast was clear. She didn't want to attract any unnecessary attention. The last thing she needed were the police to show up. She had managed to avoid them thus far, but they had been tracking the murders. There was more than likely a file set up, and now they were simply biding their time.
She wasn't afraid of the police—they were just men and women with guns, so they weren't all that scary—but she didn't need the Chicago police department to start a man hunt for her. Having the White Council breath down her neck was annoying enough as is. She didn't need human authorities biting her ankles, either.
Once the coast was, in fact, clear, she knocked on the door. A few seconds passed, before a voice called out from the other side.
"Password?" A rough sounding voice demanded. Jolyne narrowed her eyes. She didn't even need to ask Mono, as he spoke.
[MikeyFund. That is the password.]
"MikeyFund," Jolyne replied, calmly and cooly. With it, the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a tall, if thin, dark-skinned man. His hair was shaved, and he had a bit of a beard going on. His eyes were black, and glared down at her with a heap of suspicion; something she knew would happen. He was dressed in a black shirt with, of all things, a cross on the front with flames underneath. The rest of his outfit was completed by a gold chain and a pair of light brown cargo shorts and sandals.
"Hurry up, get inside. Don't need any pigs finding me now," Gus Waterson said as Jolyne nodded, stepping into the house. She decided against using Vampiric Seduction for the time being. She would only use it if she needed to. It made her feel uncomfortable when she used it, forcing someone into doing something that they didn't otherwise want to do just felt bad.
The inside of the house was just as dirty as the outside. It smelt like garbage, and as well as marijuana smoke and whatever else was done in here. A cesspool of drugs, debauchery, and whatever else happened in here.
"Do you actually live in this place?" Jolyne questioned as Gus grunted.
"Nah, I rent this place out," Gus replied as he closed the door behind him. When the door clicked shut, Gus continued. "Alright… Get it over with."
"Huh?" Jolyne said, looking over her shoulder at Gus, who sneered.
"I'm not stupid. You're new to Little Village. Never seen you before, so you gotta be, 'cause I know just about every person here. I've known for a while now that someone was gonna come after me. I made that contract, and I got more than enough money for Mikey. So, just get it over with. But… Make it quick, please."
Jolyne stared at Gus, blinking. She wasn't expecting that, that was for sure. "Now I feel bad," Jolyne thought, before sighing. "Well, if you say so," as soon as Jolyne said that, she drew out the slime sword. She didn't want to kill him. She didn't want to kill any of the people on the list. But, it had to be done.
Or…
Did it?
She really didn't need another "Chinatsu situation" happening again. Even if this "Mikey" person wasn't a System User like she was, Jolyne wasn't dumb enough to pretend that human's couldn't fight back. Hell, Kotoko and Hajime were prime examples of that.
"Actually…" Jolyne mused, causing Gus to raise an eyebrow.
"What? Got cold feet or somethin'?" Gus mocked, to which Jolyne scoffed.
"No, I'm just gonna confirm something really quick. Gimme a second," Jolyne said, before pressing her pointer and middle finger to her ear, sending a contact request to Lucifer. It took a few seconds, but, eventually, he answered.
[Hey, if it isn't my favourite Dreadknight! You've been on a role, kiddo. What's up?]
"This is gonna sound stupid, but do I actually have to kill them to send their souls to you, or, can I turn them into Vampires instead—assuming I can do that?"
Lucifer paused in thought for a few seconds. Jolyne shot Gus a glance, who had a look of impatience taking up his visage. It wasn't too long afterward that Lucifer spoke up. [Well, I don't see why not. Humans who become Vampires lose their souls, so either way, it works! Sure, go ahead! I dunno what you're planning, but if it makes that stupid ice queen mad that's all I care about. Bye!]
And then, Lucifer immediately hung up. "Well, that makes things easier," Jolyne thought, smirking. Before Kelly—Or was it Kyle? Either way, it didn't matter. When one of the twins mentioned the idea of "bringing back her court" she had never gave it any thought—turning others into vampires. "The only issue is that I don't know how to—"
[Tutorial: Turning human's into Vampires!]
[Turning Human's into Vampires is an easy process, especially as a Draculina! All you have to do is get a human to consume your blood via oral consumption, and behold as the transformation takes place! This will start them as a Vampire. This will create a "Brood" or "Court" in this instance. They will acquire a limited form of Blood Manipulation, but it will get stronger as they themselves get stronger, and they will gain unique abilities exclusive to them.]
Jolyne blinked, her question answered before she could even finish it. "Huh. Well, that's easy," Jolyne mused aloud as Gus grunted.
"What?"
"Well… I've got a better idea. It'd be a waste to just, ya know, kill you. So… Ya wanna be a Vampire?" Jolyne asked as Gus recoiled.
"Do I wanna be a what?"
"A Vampire," Jolyne repeated as Gus blinked, confusion and slight offence taking up his expression.
"The fuck? I thought I was gonna die!" Gus shouted as Jolyne shrugged.
"Well, either way, your soul goes to Lucifer. He doesn't care and neither do I. Besides, wouldn't it be better if you lived to see your younger brother thrive? Not to mention, you'll be basically immortal—assuming you don't get turned into a pile of mush or get completely erased—you can manipulate blood, and unlike what some people might say, you don't burn up in the sun. All ya gotta do is drink blood every now and again! Whaddya say?" Jolyne asked as Gus stared at her as if she was insane.
It was kind of insulting, but she could see the gears turning in his mind. His shoulders seemed to relax—she should've guessed he was tense given that he thought he was going to die—and as the seconds turned over to a minute, he seemed to be more convinced by the second.
"Well?" Jolyne asked, a hint of impatience in her tone as Gus sighed. His expression turned into a fierce smile, and his eyes burned with anticipation. There was a palpable amount of hatred in his gaze, but it wasn't aimed at her. It felt like it was aimed at someone else—someone she didn't know. Clearly, this guy had a grudge of some kind. But to who, she didn't know.
"Yeah, sure, let's do this shit. I've got a couple people that I need to get whacked anyway. How we doin' this?" Gus said as Jolyne put her hands in her pockets, taking up a relaxed stance and her expression turning into one of intrigue.
"You got a cup?" Jolyne asked, prompting Gus to nod. She followed him into his kitchen—a large room with loads of counter space, cupboards, a sink, stove, oven, and a fridge. It was cleaner than the rest of the house, but it wasn't exactly spotless. Left over food scraps were on various surfaces, and the stove hadn't been cleaned in a while by the looks of the stains.
Gus walked over to one of the cupboards, pulled out a clean shot glass, then tossed it to Jolyne. She caught it, before setting in down on the counter next to her. Before Gus could ask what she was doing, using her pointer finger's claw, she slide the sharp part over her wrist, then put her wrist overtop the cup.
Blood flowed like a stream out of her wrist and into the cup, pouring and pouring until it reached the halfway point. Once it did, she allowed her self-healing to do its thing, repairing the wound before taking the cup, walking over to Gus, and passing it to him. "Drink it. Once you've done that, the transformation will begin. Whether or not it'll be painful, I dunno. All I know is that once you've turned, you'll "die" then come back to life without your soul."
Gus stared at the glass filled with blood, inhaling sharply before exhaling, glancing over at Jolyne with a concerned look in his eyes. "You sure this'll work?"
"Yup. 100% sure!" Jolyne replied, sticking both her thumbs up. Gus closed his eyes, his body tensing as he shot back the glass of blood. When the glass was empty, leaving behind only a small amount of residue, Gus gasped as his entire body tensed. He dropped to the floor with a thud as the shot glass shattered on the ground.
Jolyne took a step back, slightly horrified as Gus curled into himself, screaming in pain. It was primal, it was vicious, and it was full of pain. For a moment, Jolyne thought about putting him out of his misery, until the screaming slowly but surely stopped. Gus's breathing became ragged, but the results were striking.
Gus was no longer a slim looking man. Now, his body had seemed to change, if only slightly. Before, while it was clear that he had a strong spirit and an indomitable will, now it took a more physical appearance. Now, he had muscle—not a lot, but enough to not look like a stick. Much like Jolyne, he had claws, and when he opened his eyes, they were no longer black.
They were an emerald green.
Just like Jolyne's eyes.
That made Jolyne curious. Why did his eyes change colour? Was it because her blood was in his system now, or was it a trait he gained because of his turn? Maybe it was both? She didn't know, but it was something to think about.
"Ugh…" Gus groaned, slowly standing up as he clutched his forehead. As he adjusted himself, cracking his neck from side to side, Jolyne ignored the pop-up saying that she had completed yet another contract, earning an barely noticeable amount of exp in the process. She was far more interested in Gus's transformation.
Gus looked down at his hands, flexing them in and out of a fist as a wide, toothy smile took up his visage. His canine teeth had enlarged, and, unlike what happened with Jolyne, all of his teeth became sharp like that of a sharks.
"Ahahaha!" Gus laughed, excitement in his voice as he pumped his fist into the air. "Fuck yeah! This is so fucking cool, man!" Gus said, before turning to face Jolyne. "Yo, what's ya name? I totally forgot to ask ya, 'cause this shit is fucking wicked! I feel alive man! I haven't felt like this since I was a kid!"
"Um… Jolyne—"
"Jolyne? Like that one fictional character from that weird Japanese comic book? My brother loves that shit. Can't read the language but he loves the visuals," Gus interrupted, before feeling up his arms, flexing, and whooping and hollering like a kid in a candy store. It was a little unnerving, but, then again, when you go from being a human to a Vampire, and it's something you actively wanted, it could be exciting… Maybe? Kind of?
For Jolyne, she had made the change from… whatever she had been previously—a pseudo-vampire—to a True Vampire in a moment of rage. She gave away what made her somewhat normal and turned into a monster to save Kotoko from a gaggle of disgusting, vile, child raping monsters.
And if she had the choice to do it again? She would. Without question. Just to see the look of shock and horror on those pathetic scum's faces as she tore them to pieces.
It was a shame that it hadn't happened sooner.
"Well, now that that's done," Jolyne began as Gus cleared his throat, calming himself down as he turned to face her. "I forgot to mention, now that you're a Vampire, that means you're now part of my Court."
"Court? Wait, like master and thrall type shit?" Gus asked, a hint of disgust in his voice as she Jolyne choked back a laugh.
"Huh?! No!" Jolyne exclaimed waving her arms to the side in denial. "It's more of a hierarchy thing. Right now, it's just you and me. You're a Vampire, the second lowest rank in the Court. I'm at the top. Draculina. I—"
"And why's that, huh? Why do you get to be at the top," Gus asked, crossing his arms as Jolyne stared at him, unamused.
"I dunno, Gus. Can you blow up a mountain?" Jolyne deadpanned as Gus blinked, taken aback.
"Can I what?"
"Can you, Gus Waterson, blow up a mountain?"
"Um… No?"
"Then that's why," Jolyne answered. Gus looked away sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed. "Now, like I was saying. I'm at the top—Draculina. In order for you to rank up higher, you have to consume people's blood. Be it by fully draining them, or otherwise. When you've drained the blood of thirty people, I'll ascend you to the next rank."
"And how are you gonna know that? What if I just lie to you, huh?" Gus asked, staring at Jolyne, who tapped the side of her head with a smirk.
"We're connected. Trust me, I'll know. So there won't be any lying to me," Jolyne answered as Gus frowned. As the silence droned on, Jolyne cleared her throat, before shifting her weight to one foot. "Well, I believe that's that. I'll leave you to it. Live how you normally live, do what you normally do, and don't forgot about the whole blood drinking thing, 'cause you're gonna need to. I'll be seeing ya~!"
Just as Jolyne was about to leave, the sound of sirens echoed outside of the front door. Gus hissed, cursing under his breath. "Ah man, fuck. It's the damn pigs…"
"Well shit…" Jolyne thought, frowning. "Mono, scan, please? See if Karrin Murphy is there."
[Scanning…. Scanning… I detect no presence of the human individual designated as Karrin Murphy.]
"Sweet," Jolyne turned to look at Gus, a smirk on her face. While killing police officers was a moral no-go for her, that didn't mean roughing them up wasn't on the table. After all, it was their job description to get beat up every now and again. It was simply what happened. "Well, you are a Vampire now. Why not give your new abilities a test run? Just try not to kill them. We don't need a certain someone to come after us."
"Who?" Gus questioned as Jolyne shrugged.
"Doesn't matter. He's irrelevant anyway. For now. Honestly, I don't know. All I know is that I've been told to try and align myself with him, but he seems very anti-vampire, so it seems pretty pointless to me," Jolyne replied. "Now, go out there, and show them what true strength looks like. I'll be watching."
With that, Gus grunted, making his way toward the door. As he walked, Jolyne followed him close behind. When they stepped out, a single police car waited for them, with two officers standing by it. One of them had their gun drawn, and the other was holding a megaphone.
They both had the stereotypical appearance of a police officer. Dressed in their blue uniforms with their comically overdone hats, and bullet proof vests. They were ready for a fight. A fight with guns.
It was just too bad that wasn't what was going to happen.
"GUS WATERSON, PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST! AND YOU, WITH THE COLOURED HAIR! YOU TOO, HANDS UP!"
Jolyne looked at Gus, and Gus looked at her. Jolyne scoffed, rolling her eyes, before looking over to the police. In that moment, her eyes glowed a faint, haunting green, which made the one with the megaphone falter, if only slightly.
"Sorry, human. I don't recognize your authority. Gus? Would you mind?"
And without so much as a hint of hesitation, Gus lunged forward in a gust of speed. From the patio to the road, it was as if he disappeared then re-appeared, just a few inches in front of the police officer holding the gun.
Before the officer could pull the trigger, Gus grabbed the officer by the face, before whipping him toward one of the lamp posts on the sidewalk, denting it in the process.
"Shit!" The police officer shouted, staggering backward as he reached for his radio. "This is officer John Stallings, we need back up, stat!" Just as he finished his sentence, Gus punched officer Stallings in the stomach, the brunt of the blow absorbed by the bullet proof vest, but it was still enough to drop him to his knees.
Gus let out a huff of air, looming over the officer, as Jolyne watched from a distance. "Remember, Gus, no killing!"
"Yeah, yeah," Gus grunted, and just as he was about to knock Stallings out, gunfire rang out from his right—in the same direction he had swung the other officer away. The bullets hit Gus in the arm, and one even grazed his neck before plinking off the glass of the car, and like regular bullets would, they pierced his flesh, but they didn't go through all the way.
Gus looked at his arm as the wound healed itself, forcing the bullets to fall out as if they were nothing more than debris. When Gus made eye contact with the semi-downed officer by the lamp post, his wide eyes said all that needed to be said.
He was mortified.
"W-What the fuck?!" The officer shouted as Jolyne walked down the stairs, approached the officer, and smiled.
"Say, sir, I'm sorry about what I'm gonna do, but… I'm just a tad on the hungry side of things. I promise it won't kill you," Jolyne said as she and the officer made eye contact. She swapped out Vaporizing Freeze Technique with Vampiric Hypnosis. When it activated, her eyes glowed a deep, dark, terrifying red, changing the officers eyes red to match, signalling that he was under her control.
With a smirk, she spoke. "Tilt your head to the right for me, will you?" And that was exactly what he did, as he was commanded to. Without any hesitation, Jolyne thrust herself forward and clamped her jaws down on his neck. The second her fangs pierced his skin, sweet, sweet blood flowed like a freshly opened bottle of wine.
As she drank, she felt power surge through her body. The man did not scream, as he was under complete hypnosis, but that didn't stop Stallings from yelling "What the hell!?" as loud as he could.
It felt wonderful, like chasing a high unlike any other before it. It tasted like the worlds most expensive berry wine, without the pungent aftertaste, and just a tad bit on the bitter side of things. She almost didn't want to stop, but, unfortunately, she was trying to keep her human body count to a minimum in this world, and so, she relented.
By the time she was done, and when she pulled away with her fangs dislodging themselves from his throat, she watched as the wound healed itself. She had willed it so, that way he didn't die from blood loss. She only took two pints of blood, which left him with more than enough to keep the man alive.
licking the blood residue from her lips, she looked over to Gus and gestured to the Stallings. "Well? You saw what I did, did you not? This is a lesson, Gus. Just try not to get too intoxicated. There are certain… issues, when it comes to overfeeding."
"What if I over do it?" Gus asked, his tone serious as Stallings looked as if he was about to pass out with fear. It made sense. He was surrounded by two, in his mind, monsters who he more than likely previously didn't exist until now. Or, maybe he did. She didn't know.
What she did know, however, was that back up was supposedly coming, and she had no idea how far away they were.
"You won't. You might not have hypnosis right now, but, we need to feed. It's in our nature. In that regard, consent isn't really all that important," Jolyne stated as Gus grunted, before grabbing the man by the scruff of his shirt, lifting him up, forcing his head to the side, before clamping his jaws down on Stallings neck.
Stallings screamed in pain, and it was a very ear grating thing to listen to. It even made Jolyne flinch. It died down a few seconds later, and when Gus finally pulled away, he tossed Stallings to the road like an empty can of soda. Stallings grunted when he hit the ground, only to end up at Jolyne's feet.
He tried to scramble away, to get away from her, but it didn't matter. With very little force, Jolyne kicked him in the face, which knocked not only a tooth out, but him as well, his body tumbling down the road before he came to a stop a few feet away.
Jolyne wasn't a particular fan of the police. The ones in Japan were pretty useless all things considered, and she knew the American police had a bit of a reputation for being overly violent. Whether that remained to be true in the past remained to be seen.
"We should bounce," Gus said, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Back-ups gonna be comin' soon. They always do. 'Specially here."
"Good idea. We'll split up for now. If you need to contact me, just put your two fingers to your head and think of me. I'll respond as soon as I can," Jolyne said as Gus chuckled.
"Fuck, that sounds like something out of those Asian cartoons that Mikey watches… Aight. See ya around, then," Gus said as Jolyne waved goodbye, before promptly teleporting out of Little Village and, out of sheer boredom, decided to teleport to where Dresden was at.
Why?
Because she could, that's why.
When she had been teleported to where Dresden was at, she appeared behind him, out of his sight and completely concealed by general lack of awareness on his behalf. He looked battle ready, and while she couldn't tell what his expression was, it was pretty clear from his guarded, slightly staggered stance, that he was dealing with something that he was not prepared for.
And that something, or in this case someone, happened to be a certain blond-haired vampire in tennis attire. Kyle Hamilton stared at Dresden, his empty pits for eyes staring at him with a hunger that could only be described as primal.
And then his eyes drifted to her.
"Oh? Two for the price of—"
Kyle didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as Jolyne lunged forward, which finally got Dresden to notice her appearance. Her right arm was outstretched upward, claws fanned out, and in less than the time it took to blink, her clawed fingers descended down on Kyle. She felt his skin tear like paper underneath the sharpness of her fingernails, and as they cut deeper, she felt something leathery get severed as well.
Black and red ichor spilled across the floor and all over Jolyne as Kyle let out a wail of pain and fury, only for it to stop short as his body fell to pieces from his shoulders down to his waist. Black leathery flesh with a thin layer of white skin hit the ground as the disgusting creature that was Kyle died.
"Pathetic," Jolyne spat, flicking the substance off her hand as it splashed against the ground. "And they have the nerve to call themselves Vampires? Disgraceful," as she hissed the words out like venom, she turned to look at Dresden, who took to his feet, clutching his forehead, eyes sharp as he spoke.
"Stars and stones… Where did you come from?" Dresden said. Just as he did, however, Jolyne caught the gleam of another pair of eyes. Without saying a word, she reached into her inventory, manifested her Slime Sword, stepped past Dresden who side stepped her, eyes widening as she leapt up.
"I see you, bitch," Jolyne said, and with a single, clean, downward stroke and a purple streak of light, Jolyne cleaved through Kelly Hamilton, lengthwise. A guttural scream of terror echoed out as she was split in two. Just the same with Kyle, red and black ichor spilled on the ground, just barely avoiding Dresden as he stepped back.
When Jolyne landed, she flicked the blade free of blood before returning it to her inventory in a flash of light. She sighed, before looking over to Dresden with a nonchalant look on her face. "To answer your question, I just got here. I was going to spook you and bother you 'cause I was bored. But I guess doing impromptu pest control was a better use of my time. Your welcome."
"Pest control?" Dresden said, glancing down at Kyle's corpse. "A red court Vampire… A pest?"
"Call that poor imitation of a wannabe man-bat a Vampire again and I'll slap you," Jolyne said, crossing her arms. "Besides, you saw what I did, did you not. Like I said, pests. Insects. I've stepped in dog shit more interesting than them," Jolyne said as she walked up to Kelly's body, knelt down, reached into her shorts pocket, then smirked.
Inside the pocket, she pulled out an envelope marked with her name on it. Dresden watched her, eagle eyed, not taking his sight off her even for a moment. "Looks like I got my invite, hehehe."
"Invite?"
"To the party? Bianca's ball?" Jolyne questioned as Dresden groaned.
"Right. The party… A building full of blood sucking creeps and god knows what else," Dresden grumbled. Clearly, he wasn't too keen about it. "Look, thanks for the bail, but I have to go bring the girl back to Father Forthill. Don't suppose you can help me with that?"
"Father Forthill sounds like a Priest. Last I checked, Vampires don't do well in churches. Would if I could, but…! That's all on you," Jolyne said, before turning her back on Dresden. Just as she did, though, Dresden spoke up.
"What was that thing you did with that sword. Where did it come from?" Dresden asked as Jolyne popped a glance over her shoulder. Her expression tightened as she narrowed her eyes. What was she supposed to say? She couldn't tell him the truth, that would give away more than he needed to know.
"Oh, I know!" Jolyne thought, her face shifting into a smile. "I pulled it out of a pocket dimension."
"You wha—"
"See ya, Wizard!"
And then, in a flash of light, Jolyne left. She had places to be, and by places, she meant other areas where contracts were located. The next one on her list? A woman by the name of Matilda. Looking at her reasoning for selling her soul, it was just to see her son grow up, seeing as she had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer that Lucifer cured in return for her soul.
And now, knowing that she didn't have to kill her targets and simply turn them into Vampires… She figured that maybe Matilda would like what she had to offer better than what Lucifer did.
[XXXX]
The search for Jackson had been going nowhere.
Three months, and Makaria somehow had not been able to find him. She had turned up to base after base belonging to The Flame, and yet she had been unable to locate him. At this point, one would assume the worse. Assume they were dead and move on. But, Makaria was stubborn, especially when it came to her subordinates.
Not to mention, if Jackson was dead, he would have been removed from her guild list. Given the fact he was still there told her that Jackson was still alive. Although, she could not ignore the possibility that he could have been turned Mad in the meantime, and if that happened, it would be game over.
Not that she was worried she would lose against him—that wasn't something she even remotely believed to be possible, regardless of his sand body or not.
Nevertheless, Makaria was determined to find Jackson. Be it alive or Frenzied, she didn't care.
She just wanted closure about her oldest living friend.
"You seem worried, dear. What's on your mind?" Hitoshi asked, sitting across from her at the dining room table. He was reading the morning's newspaper. Sayaka had a concert in Okinawa and had left early last night. She should be there by now, more than likely leaving the hotel that she totally, definitely didn't bug.
"Nothing, Hitoshi. My friend is missing, and I am going to find him," Makaria said as she sipped on her cup of coffee. Usually, she was a tea person—had been for over 380 years, but she liked to switch it up from time to time. Not that caffeine did much for her, it was all about the taste.
"That's awful, do the police know?" Hitoshi asked, putting down his newspaper as Makaria shook her head.
"No. But it is better that way. I'd much prefer if the authorities stayed out of my business. The last thing I need is to deal with unintended consequences," Makaria answered, prompting Hitoshi to frown.
"Honey… I know you're… a bit of a control freak, but what about that poor man's family? Wouldn't they want to find out what happened too?"
"What family? He doesn't have any," Makaria retorted. "Most of them died thirty years ago. He never married, and he doesn't have children. He had one stint with someone, but they broke it off before it ever got serious."
"Oh…"
"Yeah," Makaria continued, taking another sip of her coffee. "I'll find him. I always find the things or people closest to me." As she said that, Makaria stood up, before looking over at Hitoshi, a sly smirk on her face. "Oh, and by the way, just figured I would tell you, and don't tell Sayaka yet, but… She's going to have a sibling in the next few months."
Hitoshi choked on air as Makaria snickered. "Huh?! When did that happen?!"
"Last night. I checked this morning. Like I said, don't tell her yet. We'll wait three months so that when the first trimester passes we'll know whether or not it's a miscarry or not," Makaria said, placing a hand on her stomach, frowning. "I'm not going to have a repeat of our last attempt after Sayaka."
"Got it…. But, doesn't that mean you can't drink coffee anymore?" Hitoshi remarked as Makaria scowled. He was right, and that frustrated her.
"Oh well, guess it's tea for me then. It's under the regulated amount, so I'll be fine with that. It just can't be herbal," Makaria replied. Just as she was about to make her way to her observation room, however, her phone buzzed within her inventory. The only person who would have her phone number was Sayaka, so, obviously, she took her phone out and answered it. "Yes, darling daughter of mine?"
"Mom! Come quick, please! There's some guy blocking the road and he's—"
The line cut out.
Makaria's eyes widened as she pulled the phone away from her face, staring at the screen that only showed Sayaka's phone number, and that the call had ended.
Her daughter was in danger, and by Hestia she was not going to allow anything bad to happen to her.
She refused to lose another child.
"Honey, what's—" But she already left. Teleporting to Sayaka's mana signature as, in that moment, as she stood in front of the car, she brought out Erebrosia and blocked whatever incoming attack had been hurdling toward them. When the opposing force backed away, Makaria snapped her fingers and equipped her armour, replacing her dress.
The armour, Fields of Asphoul, was less of a suit of armour and more of a bodysuit. It was pitch black with purple streaks of light surging through it. It covered every inch of her body, including a bucket helmet with a cell bar-like protection in front of it. It was form-fitting, meaning it didn't come with unnecessary bulk, and it was made up entirely of dead souls fused into a single creation.
The armour boosted her physical and magical defence significantly, and it gave her a passive Paralysis effect every time she was hit up to six times. Granted, it only worked on bosses, and considering her System wasn't alerting her that this was a boss, it wasn't exactly important. Fields of Asphoul also boosted her Arcane Wisdom stat by 25%-not that she needed it, but it was a good boost.
"Mom?!" Sayaka called out from the car, sticking her head out of the window as Makaria glanced over her shoulder.
"Get back in the car, Sayaka. It's not safe!" As soon as Makaria said that, she turned her attention back to the thing that dared to attack them.
They looked tall, or maybe it was due to what they were wearing that made them look that way. Seeing as they were covered head to toe in an orange cloak, she couldn't tell if they were standing or floating.
They wore a cracked face mask that looked like a tragedy mask, and because of that it was hard to tell exactly who they were, but Makaria figured out right away who they were with. Because, if their attire didn't give it away, the weapon in their right hand, that being a frenzied broadsword, told her exactly just who they were with. "Someone from the Flame Cult? Attacking my family? Oh… How cute."
Makaria didn't bother to say a word. In a burst of speed that cracked the ground, in a fraction of a second she appeared in front of the cloaked cultist. She thrust Erebrosia forward, only for it to be instantly intercepted by the broadsword, sparks flying from the impact as the cultist deflected the attack, forcing Makaria back a foot.
The cloaked cultist lunged forward, bringing their weapon above their head in an attempted to slam it down on Makaria. In return, Makaria dodged to the side, avoiding the attack as the force of the blow caved the section of road it landed on. It caused Makaria to falter, if only slightly, which allowed the cultist to bring their blade up and to the left where Makaria was.
Makaria didn't have time to block with Erebrosia, but that didn't mean she was going to take the blow. She swapped one of her spell slots out with a different one as she flicked her wrist upward. A wall made entirely out of souls manifested to her left, blocking the attack as frenzied flame burned the souls it made contact with.
Makaria, at all times, had at least 100,000 souls on her person at a time. And right there, she lost 3,000 in that one attack, as they were burned away and melted into nothing.
Makaria hissed, leaping back as she made eye contact with the driver. The command, a silent one, was made clear to the driver as he put the car in reverse, before forcing the car to turn around as the driver sped off.
A few onlookers had gathered, pulling out their phones. There were a few that were even calling the police. "Wonderful…" Makaria thought, glaring at the cultist, who hefted his sword on his shoulder. Neither of them said a word. Their masks made it impossible for either to tell what the other was thinking.
But, in the end, it didn't matter.
Makaria snapped her fingers as several dark purple circles appeared underneath the cultist's feet. The cultist looked to the floor as the circles erupted with a powerful stream of souls. Soul Geyser was one of her favourite spells in her arsenal. Powerful, and with a soul cost of only 300. With her Arcane Wisdom stat being in the thousands, to any normal human, it would kill them instantly.
Which was why when the cultist took the blow and landed on their feet—or at least it looked like they did—directly afterward, Makaria had to remind herself that she was not fighting a regular human. That's when she decided to have her system Observe them.
[Target cannot be scanned.]
"A cloaking spell? A powerful enough one to block out my System?" Makaria thought, her eyes widening. In her 2,000 years of life, she had never run into something like that. Not even other system users could block out another person's Observe. The only way that could happen was if…. "They're being guarded by an Outer God!"
And before Makaria could follow up her attack, the cultist appeared in front of her, reared their arm back, and punched Makaria in the chest. The attack shattered her chest piece, and the force of the blow was enough to destroy several buildings in the surrounding area to smithereens. Skyscrapers shattered like glass, smaller buildings were reduced to nothing but rubble, and the road became nothing more than a crater.
As Makaria tumbled, watching her HP go from it's staggering 16,150 HP down to 12,759 in a single blow made her eyes widen. And that was with the protection of her chest plate that had buffed her physical defence by 100%. Meaning if that attack had landed without her armour on, it would have brought her down even further.
Luckily, due to her chest plate being made of souls, she was able to reconstruct it, but it cost 25,000 souls to do so. She had been brought down below a third her soul count, and if she wanted to get more back, she'd have to do more than a couple dozen high-ranking dungeon runs and use Soul Harvest, which drained her significantly.
Looking at the destruction around her, she felt her heart tighten.
For 20 feet in a circle radius, everything had been destroyed. It was nothing more than a crater now. As if a bomb had been dropped in the area. And as the dust settled, the cultist in the robes walked forward, slowly, with each step paced in such a way that it elicited fear.
But Makaria was not a bitch by any means.
She had made it a point to never use the few cultist spells that she had acquired. However, it was clear that her soul magic wasn't going to do much. If Soul Geyser, one of her most powerful combat oriented attacks, did essentially nothing to them then none of her other offensive soul magics would.
Ergo, logic dictated that she needed to use what she swore she would never.
When she unlocked the Demonic Undertaking tome, she thought it it would grant her similar abilities to the Book of Hells Wisdom. But, she had been entirely incorrect. She had met a few Dreadknights in the past who pursued that book, and it gave them fire and lightning abilities—granted, they were low level, so she had no idea what else that book had in store.
But Demonic Undertaking different abilities.
For example…
A light green energy began to gather in the palm of Makaria's hand, crackling like electricity, and as she thrust her palm out toward the cultist, Necro-Blast surged forth, slamming into the cultist in a wave of green light that exploded upon contact.
Makaria used the kicked up debris to lunge herself forward, preparing to thrust Erebrosia into the cultist. As soon as she thrust the lance forward, she expected to hit them. Instead, Erebrosia once again clashed with the cultist's blade, except this time they deflected the blow quicker before thrusting their hand out, a burst of Frenzied Flame slamming into Makaria as it sent her flying back, causing her Madness-meter to build up slightly, dropping her HP even lower down to 9,789.
But the assault wasn't finished yet. As Makaria tried to get up, she was met with the cultist closing the distance, who then back-handed her through several buildings. Makaria was able to stop midway through the fourth building, her HP dropping even lower to 8,201. Constantly restoring her armour from breaking was starting to become a hassle, and she was running low on souls to do so.
"They're strong…. Really strong!" Makaria thought, panic beginning to brew in her chest. This was only going to get worse as time went on, and she knew it. Bolts of Frenzied Flame began to rain down on her as she dodged in between them, hopping left to right to left to right. When they finally stopped, the cultist once again attempted to close the distance.
Except this time, Makaria was ready for them.
As they closed the distance, and as they got within a few meters away from her, Makaria unleashed a flurry of thrusting attacks. With each set of attacks, the cultist dodged and weaved damn near perfectly, with only the last few attacks landing, finally drawing blood, piercing the cultists torso and left shoulder before the cultist jumped back a great distance, easily over 50 feet away.
The cultist, seemingly undeterred, raised their sword over their head as flames began to build up around it like a sheath. Makaria's eyes widened underneath her helmet as, in a split second, the cultist slammed the blade downward as a torrent of flames came toward Makaria in a straight, but thin line.
However, instead of dodging, Makaria had a better idea.
Erebrosia had a unique weapon art, one that she had used only three times before. All three of those times were used against Lords of Frenzied Flame. While this person was nowhere near close to that level of power, they were starting to get annoying, and as such, she decided to use it. Her lack of battle in the last 30 years was starting to show, and she really didn't want to die to regular, bottom of the barrel Cultist.
Pulling Erebrosia and her arm back, the tip of the weapon began to glow a bright white. Power drew in from her surrounding area—specifically, souls of the dead. The freshly killed people, anyway. She wasn't going to draw upon her already dwindling number of souls that she had in store—which was down to 59,000 by the way.
Just as the line of Frenzied Flame was a mere three feet away, the tip of her weapon sparkled, giving her the sign that the attack was ready. With powerful war cry, Makaria thrust the lance forward as a massive beam of pure soul magic soared forward in a straight line that would stretch on for at least 50 meters, assuming it could overcome the line of flames.
The weapon art was called: Soul Annihilation.
It was an attack that was meant to target the soul, negating any defensive barriers that it came into contact with. However, it only worked once it absorbed at least 50,000 souls, meaning that the only way Makaria could use it was in a graveyard, or in an area where a mass tragedy had occurred.
It was why whenever she would fight a Lord of Frenzied Flame she made sure to bring a big enough army to power Erebrosia. Not only because it helped whittle down their health, but because she couldn't use already risen souls for the attack.
The two beams clashed, but it only lasted for a second as Soul Annihilation quickly overpowered beam of Frenzy, overtaking it and slamming into the cultist, covering them in a wave of pure soul magic, eclipsing them entirely. Everything in that line was destroyed, vaporized, left to dust.
While the cost of the attack was grave, it was the only thing that she could think of to beat them. She had not had to fight seriously in three decades, and it showed with just how rusty she had been. If this had taken place around the same time that she had fought the last Lord of Frenzied Flame, they would have been obliterated in less time than Makaria would need to think.
But now… Now that she had settled down. Now that she had a family and wasn't focused on crushing everything in her path, the battle genius she used to be was long gone. She had become far too comfortable, and allowed others to her work for her.
That needed to change.
When the dust settled, and when the attack was over, Makaria stood, ragged and out of breath as she surveyed the area. She could not find the cultist nor their remains. So, she assumed that she had killed them.
At least, that was until a faint orange glow began to cast a shadow on her.
And then, she looked up.
Floating in the air was the cultist, masked face looking down at her as, in their hand, was a massive ball of Frenzied Flame. It almost looked like a miniature sun. Just by eyeballing it, it looked to be 30 feet tall, and 500 feet wide. The flames wisped out like tendrils, and the longer Makaria stared at it, the faster her Frenzy meter went up.
Makaria looked away, and began to run.
She ran as fast as she could.
Because she knew that the moment that attack landed…
She would die.
The cultist said nothing, and as Makaria ran, they threw down the ball of frenzy. Makaria looked behind her, watching as the ball of frenzy was inches away from hitting the ground. Makaria had no choice.
She teleported inside the car that Sayaka and the driver were in, grabbed Sayaka who gasped in shock, before teleporting again before she could say a word. When next they reappeared, they were all the way atop one of the mountains a couple hundred meters away from Okinawa City.
And even from that distance, Makaria could see the explosion caused by that attack.
In an instant, all of Okinawa City was destroyed. There was no way anything could've survived. Sayaka screamed.
All of Sayaka's bandmates just died. Because there was no way anyone would have survived that explosive except the caster.
As a matter of fact, 1.4 million people were just vaporized, and if she hadn't did what she had just done, Sayaka would have been one of them.
Sayaka had fallen to her knees in tears, screaming and crying until her voice ran ragged. As for Makaria?
The only thing that she felt was guilt.
Guilt for not being able to stop what had just happened.
Guilt for not being able to save Sayaka's bandmates.
Guilt for not being able to take the miniature sun made of Frenzy elsewhere.
That guilt swiftly turned to anger, as she gripped the hilt of her lance as her clothes changed to her usual white summer dress. A gust of wind picked up, causing her hair to flow behind her, her crimson red eyes narrowed in fury.
Whoever that was… they were powerful. Too powerful.
She had a few guesses. Junko was one of them, but… Junko was never one to play directly like that. Junko was more the kind of person to send out lackies to deal with her problems. That, and if it was Junko, the entire island would have been leveled—she was a Lord of Frenzied Flame, after all.
Mukuro was dead, and she was significantly weaker than Junko, so even if she had somehow lived, there was no way that could've been her.
Which left it down to two people.
The Priest, who's identity that had no idea of.
Or.
The Vanguard, who was in the same boat as The Priest.
The Priest was a new addition, but The Vanguard had been around since before Junko had taken over the cult. He was illusive, and extremely slippery. Much like Junko, he didn't come out often. And while Makaria's mind was full of speculation, right now wasn't the time for such speculation.
Right now, Makaria was going to take Sayaka home.
Kneeling next to Sayaka, she put away her weapon, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, before pulling her in close, holding her as she cried in complete, total despair. She could feel Sayaka's tears wet her shoulder as she held her daughter tight.
Sayaka had been friends with those people since she was a little kid. They had started their group together as a part of an independent project. Makaria had seen many people come and go in the long life she had lived, but Sayaka had not.
She had yet to build that kind of resilience to death, and so it was natural for her to be upset and saddened at their deaths.
Makaria just wished that it had happened far, far later in life than right now.
Without a word, Makaria transported them to the front step of their home, standing up slowly with Sayaka, who pulled away, eye-liner running down her cheeks as she tried to wipe it away. The front door opened as Hitoshi grabbed Sayaka, pulling her as he too cried, prompting Sayaka to do the same.
She could hear the news in the background. Reporters were already talking about the massive explosion that wiped out all of Okinawa City. It would no doubt cause widespread pandemonium.
Irregardless of what was going to come of this, there was only one thing that mattered to Makaria.
And it was that now?
Now, it was personal.
If there was one thing you did not do, it was mess with a married woman's family. She would not stand for it, and seeing her husband and daughter terrified and upset did not do good things for her mentally.
The last time she had a family—a true, honest, real family, it had been violently ripped away from her by Frenzied Cultists in the 1940s.
So, for the first time in a very long time, she was going to need to grind for Stat Tokens—because she couldn't level up naturally.
She needed to beef up her defences.
She needed to beef up her spells.
And she needed to make sure that something like what had just happened in Okinawa would never, ever happen again.
[-To Be Continued-]
[Ending Song: request – by: krage-]
Notes:
Finally, some more Makaria action! I told ya'll who were in the discord server (join it, by the way, this is the key: Pva9PNxAzh) that she would be more relevant in Book 2! Also, who the hell is the masked cultist that just blew up Okinawa?! Guess ya just gonna have to find out!
Anyway, onto my response to review/comments!
(Ao3) WilburDrake: Jolyne does not know how to not be a little shit. Also, I'm on Book 12 right now, and yeah, A LOT HAPPENS in Book 11. I'm still on the early parts of Book 12, but apparently its nutty. You should def continue. It's peak.
As for the stuff that's happened off screen, it was all during the time skip, and I feel like if I were to go back and cover what happened during that it would just unnecessarily bloat what I've already have planned. To put it into perspective, I'd have to add at least five more chapters to this story to cover what happened in the time skip, and I'd much rather not.
Don't worry, Jolyne is going to show them what A REAL FUCKING VAMPIRE looks like soon enough, and it shall be glorious!
And that's it for now! See ya'll in the next one. Peace!
Chapter 10: Chapter 8: That Which You Cannot See
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – By: GRANRODEO]
"It's funny. There are perks to being a System User. A lot of perks, really. Pseudo-Immortality, immunity to mental manipulation from lesser beings, the ability to gain an infinite amount of power, and an infinite amount of time to use it all. But, the longer you live, the less human you become. The more you become like the creatures you're supposed to fight against. It can be… very distracting, at times." – Diary Entry 0301, Page 212, lines 1 through 5.
[That Which You Cannot See]
Form.
It lacked a permanent form.
It needed a vessel. A strong, capable, powerful vessel.
It's last vessel died. Could not handle Its power. Could not withstand Its true form. The vessel had only lasted a month, if that.
It needed to find them.
Those prisoners… They had been set free. Free from the clutches of It.
That could not do.
They deserved their punishment.
Punishment for defying His Unholiness! Torment and Despair was all that they deserved. Yet something set them free. It had yet to find the cause, but once It did, then It would surely rejoice in destroying the foul being that forced this horrendous game of cat and mouse.
It floated through Chicago, unseen and unseeable, cloaked by billions year old magic and refined technique. It needed a vessel. Needed someone strong. Someone with determination and willpower—not so much that they could over It, but enough to where they could handle Its presence.
And then, It found one.
A worthy vessel!
In a brick building, with police vehicles parked out front, there was one soul within that was powerful. Not distinctly magical, but powerful. Enough strength of will to sate It.
It pressed forward, invading the space with practiced ease. No Threshold to shatter this time, as it was a public building. No violation need be made. Only a swift entry. It liked those kinds of places. Where It could roam as free as It desired.
It came upon the location of dwelling Its new vessel had. A small cramped office, with a computer, desk, stacks upon stacks of papers, and freshly painted walls.
Its new, unknowing and unwilling host, was an adult human woman. Short blond hair, small stature but heavily trained body, and a fierceness beyond all else. Just the kind of host It desired.
However, there was a problem.
Another spirit was attempting to antagonize her.
A spirit that took the form of someone close to Its new host.
How unsightly.
A mere flex of its power made the spirits form falter, waver, its false appearance rippling as it frantically looked around the room.
That was when It decided to drop its veil.
The whole building went dark.
"What the—"
But the human woman's voice died very quickly. With blue eyes wide and alarmed, It took full form—or, what of it could muster.
Tall, with crimson skin made of hearty scales. A mouth like that of a canine, two pairs of goat-like eyes, and horns as tall as the ceiling that curled endlessly. It's lower body that of a serpent, with hoops of gold within its goat-like ears, and countless rings adorning its fingers.
In a flash, Aamon grabbed the spirit by the head, its arm outstretching past the human woman. The spirit struggled, attempting to flee, but was unable to do so. Aamon squeezed, and popped the spirit into nothing, burning it to cinders as its screams wailed out into eternity. Banished, to the realm of sulfur and ash.
Which left only the human woman.
"You Are Mine."
And that was all Aamon had to say, for in the blink of an eye and with practiced ease, Aamon cast a rune upon the human woman. A pentagram, ethereal; not etched into flesh. The rune silenced her soul, allowing him access. Reverting to his spiritual form, Aamon burrowed, and sealed itself within, and waited.
It would take 72 hours for the process to be complete.
72 hours to be one with this vessel.
72 hours until it could finally be rid of those foolish Traitors.
And in the brief moment where Aamon was in control, before it slinked into the recesses of the human woman's mind—Karrin Murphy, Aamon was now learning—he could see the appearance of the human that which this Karrin Murphy held close, and the person whom that wayward spirit took the form of.
Hell knew three of his names. But not all four.
Harry Copperfield Dresden. A powerful Wizard, with untapped potential that could potentially bring about a new era for Magic kind, if moulded in the correct way. A terrifying threat, no doubt. But not yet. He was still a fledgling—a larva who had yet to cocoon.
He attempted to try and grasp the situation, but the seal placed upon his new host forbid him to do so. Only someone who worked with Lucifer, or perhaps one of those Holy Knights he had heard about, could allow him access.
Aamon could see the rage in his eyes from that brief glimpse It caught, and it was glorious. Aamon knew exactly what the human would try, as it had done this dance with Wizards more powerful than him before, and it would all end the same way. With tragedy and failure.
Because that was the cycle of humanity. Tragedy, which begets loss, which in and of itself was the universe's most delicious form of failure.
And Aamon would be right there, to claim that failure, all to make its own less painful.
[XXXX]
Bianca St. Claire was a very prideful woman. A prideful woman with a mean streak. Her appearance—her flesh suit's appearance—was that of a gorgeous lady. Flowing red hair that reached just to the small of her back, opalescent skin that glowed hauntingly in the moonlight, auburn eyes that reflected a predatory gleam, which was typically masked by a look of affection.
Bianca always wore bright red lipstick—common sex appeal in the northern American continent—and a silky black dress that covered down to her ankles, alongside a pair of elbow-length gloves. Her appearance was made to attract both men and women. She had curves in all the right places, large, voluptuous breasts that no human could resist ogling at, and legs that could hypnotize anyone just by looking at her.
Of course, the disguise only worked if the person viewing her didn't already know about the ghastly form underneath. A form that even she despised. It was the only thing that she disliked about being a vampire of the Red Court. That her true self, no matter how much time she poured into her faux appearance, would always be that of a humanoid bat with fangs the length of knives, arms as gangly as that of a monkey with fleshy wings, and an extremely large tongue.
In Bianca's opinion, the negatives outweighed the positives. But that was merely because she was a vain creature. She had made her choice a long time ago, and even if she was beginning to regret it, she could never give up the years of life that it had given her. Ageless Immortality was a wonderful thing. But even given that, she knew very well that she could die.
She was not that much of a fool. She had made an extreme effort to make sure that any enemies that she had made died within the day she made them. It was all to ensure her survival. She had lived this long because of it, and she would do whatever it took to maintain that.
But, sometimes, pride could get in the way of logic.
Residing within her 15 Million Dollar mansion, getting ready for her party, Duke Paolo Ortega stood within her room, arms crossed and expression taut with frustration. "Are you out of your bloody mind?!"
Duke Paolo Ortega, ambassador to The Red Court, one of the Red King's personal assassins, and long-standing noble within The Red Court. He, alongside a hand full of other Red Courts, were some the longest living in the entire court. After all, living as long as the 15th Century was impressive. Most of the longer lived Red Courts were older, alongside the Red King himself. But nevertheless, he was still impressively strong, cunning, and witty for his age.
It was half the reason why The Red King viewed him as an important asset.
Ortega was dressed in a black business suit, along with a black tie, and a cane that stored within it a sword. It was his preferred way of fighting, although he could go a few rounds with bare-knuckle boxing. His skin was tanned, reflecting his place of residence being Spain, as well as a few of the other African settlements and countries. His turf, so to speak. Alongside that, he had short, straight black hair, and dark, black, piercing eyes that made even some of the older members of the court shiver.
There was a saying in The Red Court. If it's Ortega against an enemy of the court, always bet on Ortega. After all, even if he was considered one of the younger members of The Court compared to the rest of the nobles, Ortega was one of the only ones who was willing to get their hands dirty.
Given his conquistador past, that should have been a given to anyone.
"I do not see what the issue is, Duke," Bianca replied nonchalantly, turning away from the mirror in her room to face him. "Besides, Harry Dresden has gotten in my way more than enough. Killing him here is what will help us take over Chicago. Besides, I am more afraid of him than I am that show-boating Warden."
"That is not the point!" Ortega spat, eyes narrowed. "This is a peaceful place of gathering. Grudges aside, Bianca, that does not mean that you, as the host, are free to kill our important guests without consequence! The regular humans you gathered as food? That's fine. It is within our right. But the others? The Ambassadors? You're out of your mind!"
"I'm only set on killing Dresden. I'm not that foolish."
"Clearly, you are!" Ortega snapped back, the grip on his cane intensifying. "Dresden is one such ambassador to the White Council! Killing him, even on accident, is cause for a war. Even if he is not particularly liked by The White Council, it would be seen as a slight against them."
Bianca scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. Dresden has been a thorn in their side to. I'm sure we can shape this as a good thing. Besides, from what I recall, he broke one of the laws of magic that the human's vainly applied to themselves to "make them better than the rest of the monsters." Most of, if not all, members of the White Council hierarchy despise him. The Merlin included. Do you truly think they would bat an eye if he dropped dead?"
Ortega sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, mumbling something to himself in Spanish. "You pig-headed oaf…"
"Excuse you?" Bianca hissed as Ortega glared daggers at her, causing her to flinch.
"Do I need to say it louder? What do I need to say to convince you that what you are about to do is one of the stupidest things that I have ever heard?" Ortega began as he approached Bianca, malice oozing from his words as he stared her in the eyes. "I have worked my ass off, trying to ensure that there is a delicate peace between the Red, White, and Black courts, alongside the White Council. So far, we have been able to avoid any issues. But if you are to do this, it would throw all of the goodwill that we have with The White Council out the window! We are Vampires, Bianca. They are Human. Now, tell me, Bianca, what do you know about Humans?"
"That they are insects who deserve nothing more than to be our food," Bianca replied as Ortega smacked her up the side of the head with the end of his cane. The power of the blow was enough to send her to the ground with a thud as she growled, clutching the side of her face.
"No, you moronic wench," Ortega glowered, his cane placed perfectly in front of him as he looked down on Bianca. "Human's, while they are our prey, are relentless. They are pack animals. If one of their herd is injured or killed, they will stop at nothing to find the culprit and bury them and anyone who was associated with them. They are genocidal creatures to their very core. Tribalistic and divided as they are, they will come together and ensure the erasure of an entire species if slighted."
"If you cannot recall, The Black Court made a mistake a couple hundred years ago in going to war with The White Council. While they are now at peace, they are still suffering the consequences of their actions. They used to be a majority. Now, they are a minority. And it was all because Drakul killed a guest at a party. Sound familiar?" Ortega said as Bianca scowled.
"We are stronger than the Black Court. We have the power advantage too! Dresden humiliated me, and I demand my penance!" Bianca spat, standing up, towering over Ortega, her skin suit rippling with fury, rage, and all other kinds of anger. Ortega did not budge. He did not concede.
"I am not going to have you start a war with The White Council and invalidate my two hundred years worth of progress on maintaining a good image with The White Council. We are allowed to hunt in our territories scott free without fear of being punished. We are given more leeway than even The White Court. This is all due to my handiwork. And you wish to piss all over that due to a grudge?!"
"This is about more than a grudge, Ortega," Bianca sneered, turning her back to him and looking back at the mirror. Her flesh suit had been injured, something she fixed passively overtime as the skin cells stitched themselves back together. "It is a smaller symptom of a wide-spread domestication that's been occurring within our Court. I do not know how you haven't noticed, but the longer this goes on, the worse it is going to get."
Ortega said nothing, prompting Bianca to continue. "I doubt you feel the same way I do. But it feels like that anytime we step even the tiniest bit out of line, the White Council comes to reprimand us like pets misbehaving. I loathe it. I became a Vampire to escape my chains, not to put myself in fancier new ones. Need I remind you what I was before you found me, Ortega."
"Yes, I am aware…" Ortega said, frowning.
"Then you should know why I oppose the direction the Red Court is going in. We are losing sight of what we are. We are allowing The White Council to control us, even if it is for our safety. I hate it. Many other members of my coven hate it. I would also like to believe that others outside of my coven hate it as well," Bianca said, glancing back over to Ortega, who's expression was knit into one of thought.
"My grudge against Dresden is nothing more than a tool to escape our chains. In the short term, it will be a mess. We will more than likely be at war. But once the dust settles, and assuming we win this hypothetical war, then we will be free to do as we please. Free to consume as we desire. We won't need to worry about any shackles. We will become the most powerful Court between the three, ignoring The Jade Court, and rule the globe. All it will take is you turning a blind eye to me killing Dresden, and going from there. If we play our cards right, we can even say that it was an act of aggression met with aggression, if need be. No one else will say otherwise."
Ortega's expression soured, looking back at Bianca. "Yes. But, we are forgetting someone. That wildcard I mentioned earlier. The one responsible for Kyle and Kelly's demise."
"The new Vampire?" Bianca questioned, scoffing. "What does she have to do with anything."
"My scouts indicate that she is aligned with Dresden. That very person was able to effortlessly claw through some of your enforcers, Bianca. She is a threat. I do not know to what degree, but if she is able to tear through a stronger than average Red Court like butter, then I do not think I need to tell you just how dangerous she might be."
As Ortega said that, Bianca couldn't help but agree. Kyle and Kelly being killed threw a wrench into her plans. Not to mention the failure to capture that human with Cassandra Tears. That, if manipulated correctly, would have been an invaluable asset to The Red King. But with that plan being thwarted, the leverage that she desired to have was gone.
Bianca desired revenge for what happened to the twins. She had no idea how strong this new Vampire was. But, according to what Kyle and Kelly had told her before their failed capture of the human, they told her that she was part of a long-extinct Court that had no records of existing due to being insignificant.
"I see you are deep in thought. You do not believe the claims that new Vampire made, yes?" Ortega questioned as Bianca hummed in acknowledgement.
"Correct. I find it hard to believe that there was a court that existed outside of the seven that we know now. Even if they were insignificant in the past, there had to have been something," Bianca mused as Ortega crossed his arms.
"It could be possible that this is simply a new Court? Evolution is a thing, after all. Perhaps one of the other court vampires, possibly black, evolved at some point. Or, perhaps it was a new method of becoming a vampire that this particular individual found, and is now making their own Court using it."
"But why lie?" Bianca asked as Ortega shrugged.
"To seem more important. That is my only guess for that matter," Ortega answered. "Either way, they are a threat. One that needs to be observed. I take it that is why you allowed them into your party?"
"Yes. That, and I want to put them in their place. They killed Kyle and Kelly. They slighted me, and I demand my pound of flesh," Bianca spat out the sentence like poison as Ortega sighed.
"Well, there isn't anything that I can say to sway you," Ortega said, before glaring at Bianca, who flinched. "But, allow me to warn you, Bianca St. Claire. If this blows up in your face, and you somehow survive? I will personally see to it that you are killed for your transgression, am I understood?"
Bianca gulped, "Yes, Duke Paolo Ortega," Bianca said with a bow as Ortega hummed in approval.
"Then we are done here. I will be seeing you."
And then, he left. Bianca lingered in her bowed state for a moment longer. Just when he left, with a shout of rage, Bianca turned to her make-up stand, ripped it out of the ground, and threw it across her room as it splintered into pieces.
Huffing and puffing, Bianca let out a grunt of frustration. Two hours until her party, and she was furious. Furious with Dresden, furious with Ortega, and furious with that new whore that she had heard about.
She was going to kill those two. Dresden and that other girl—Jolyne, if she recalled correctly—and she would rub it in Ortega's face. She was tired of being looked down on. Tired of being seen as a naïve child. She would have her cake and eat it, too.
And once it was all said and done, she would bask in the glory of her accomplishments and be praised by The Red King for her actions. She just knew it! She would ascend from Margravine to Duke, surely she would.
After all, it was what she deserved.
[XXXX]
"Well, this turned out to be extremely worthwhile," Jolyne mused as she sat on the hood of a car, one leg draped over the other with a smile on her face. Why? Because she was attending an outdoor party, hosted by Gus. In less than two hours, she would be attending a very boring, very political party, and she wanted to have some fun.
There were at least over a hundred people here. All of varying shades of skin darker than her own, although there were a few who were peach coloured or pale white—not many in comparison to most others. But it made her feel less stand-out. Which was a plus.
Music was blaring, very loud, bass heavy music, and it boomed from the car she was sitting on. It was by someone named Tupac, and while it wasn't her favourite kind of music—rap ranked sixth on her list of favourite music genres—but even she had to admit it was good.
Of course, the car stereo was not the main source of the sound. It was hooked up to two loud speakers on the roof. That was what amplified the music, and while it annoyed a few people in the neighbourhood, most people were unbothered.
Drinks, drugs, and all forms of elicit things were occurring around her. She was pretty sure someone was having sex behind a tree, but it bothered her very little. What humans chose to do in their free time was of no concern to her. As long as it didn't hurt children, then she was fine.
"So, whaddya think, Jojo?" Gus said, walking up to her with a can of beer in his hand. He was dressed in something else now. A white tank top with a pair of black shorts. Given how hot it was, even at night, that made sense. Though she knew it was going to cool down soon. As he approached, he took a swig from the can and frowned. "Bah, can't get drunk no more. Sucks."
"No, you just have a way higher tolerance now. If it took you six beers to get drunk, now it's gonna twelve to even get tipsy," Jolyne replied before tapping to her wrist. "But if you want to get drunk, I'm pretty sure if you drink too much blood, that'll definitely do it. Either that, or it'll make you extremely horny."
"And you know that 'cause?"
"I found out the hard way," Jolyne answered, before glancing out at the sea of drunk people dancing and vibing. "Also, yeah, it's pretty fun. I was worried a few people would try and seduce me or something stupid."
"You deal with that a lot?" Gus asked, hoping up next to her as Jolyne scowled.
"Yeah. In a lot of ways Japan is cool. But in others? Not so much. You would not believe how many perverts there are in Japan. It's really bad. Doubly so if you're a girl. I've had to deal with several people trying to take pictures of my panties and it's just the worst," Jolyne spat as Gus cringed.
"Fuck, yeah that's shitty." There was a brief pause between his next sentence as he frowned. "So, you said you recruited a few other people?"
"Yeah. I had eight people on a list I was hired to kill—the same one you were on. I only found seven, though, and out of them, I recruited five. One of the two I didn't recruit was a serial rapist who cleared their name through devil contract. The other one was a war vet who just wanted to see his kid grow up and that was about that."
It had taken the entire day to find the rest of everyone else. Not that Jolyne particularly cared that much. But the fact was that it had been a hassle. More than that, actually. Especially that war vet. Even if being shot resulted in the bullets plinking off her skin like triple reinforced steel, that didn't make it any less annoying.
The most annoying one though, by far, was a kid. A kid who had made a deal with the devil. It was an accident, apparently. He made it when he was six, and now he was twelve. He thought he was contacting a genie, not the Devil. But either way, he asked for his mother's arthritis to be cured, and the Devil did exactly as he was asked. All for the price of his soul.
Jolyne didn't like the idea of killing children. Hell, even turning them made her feel weird. But, it was better to be turned than to die. Now, she had an immortal twelve year old on her side, and she didn't know how to really feel about that. Obviously, he would grow older mentally, but appearance wise he wouldn't change.
She kind of felt bad, but there wasn't much that could be done about it.
"Damn, woulda killed to have a war vet. That other guy can kick rocks though."
"Woman. It was a woman."
"The fuck?" Gus took another swig of his beer, emptying the can before crushing it into a thin, flat disc in his hands. "Man, that ain't ever gonna get old."
"Yo, yo, yo! G-man!" Someone called out, approaching the car. He had darker skin than Gus, who was a lighter shade of brown. If she had to compare the two, Gus looked more comparable to oakwood than the other guy, who was much more comparable to ebony.
He was shirtless, but he rocked it with the muscular chest and abs. He also wore a pair of jeans that rode low on his waist, and they had tears at the knees. Notably, he had a gun sitting just above where his crotch was, which either meant he was incredibly cocky, or he just liked it for the look it gave him.
"Ronnie! Yo, wassup dawg!" Gus said, raising a hand as Ronnie smirked, looking over at Jolyne.
"Yo, who this? This ya new side piece? Didn't think you was into Asians. She look cute, though," Ronnie asked as Jolyne frowned. Gus scoffed, shaking his head.
"Nah, dude. Believe it or not, this my new boss. Yo, Jojo, this is Ronnie. Dude I knew back in middle school. He's chill usually," Gus said as Jolyne sighed. Ronnie outstretched his hand for a handshake, which Jolyne responded to in kind, just to not seem impolite. When she did, though, she made sure to put on a little bit of pressure. Something Ronnie attempted and failed to match.
When she let go, Ronnie chuckled a bit, looking over to Gus. "Damn, she's strong. Wouldn't 'ave thought that just by looking at her though."
"Yeah, she's something alright," Gus said, scratching at his neck. "Whatcha want?"
"Well, I was thinking, after this, you wanna head down to that manor? Heard they was having a massive party and that everyone was invited. Something about a party to celebrate something special happening. There's gonna wine, pretty bitches, and where there's bitches and alcohol you know there's gonna be a lotta fuckin' happening."
"Do you always think with your cock?" Gus chastised, earning a shrug and a toothy grin from Ronnie.
"Eh man, what can I say? When I see a pretty lady, you know I gotta do something. Beats beating off alone," Ronnie said. Jolyne stared at him, eyes slightly narrowing. She did not like Ronnie. Not one bit. He was way too crude and seemed very sex-driven. His eyes drifted over to her again, and there was a look in his eyes that made her want to squirm. "Yo, how old are you?"
"I'm 16. 17 in a couple of weeks." And it wasn't wrong. According to "her" memories, her birthday was coming up in December. What made it worse was that it was on Christmas. She was a literal "Christmas Kid." While back in her world, it was November, here it was October. It was weird how time worked.
"Shit. Could be worse, I suppose. I'm 19 myself. Other women can attest that I'm amazin', so ya know, if ya want—"
"I have a boyfriend, thank you very much. Kick rocks," Jolyne spat as Ronnie grunted.
"Don't gotta be a bitch about it," Ronnie rumbled. Jolyne's eyes narrowed, and if it wasn't for the fact that she didn't want to scratch up Gus's car, she would've scraped her claws across the hood.
"C'mon Ron, get ya self under control. That's some weirdo type shit," Gus said as Ronnie walked away. As he walked, he flipped them off, and that was about as much as Jolyne was going to take from that man. She had half the mind to give him a heart attack or clog one of his veins, but she decided against it at the last second. She didn't want to cause a scene.
"Man, that was fucked. Sorry 'bout that, Jojo."
"It's fine. But if he tries that shit again, I'm going to make him eat the curb," Jolyne said, adjusting her hair as she pulled out her phone—she still wasn't used to it being a flip phone—and checked the time. It was currently 11:45. She had fifteen minutes to be at Bianca's ball, and it made her frustrated.
For starters, she didn't want to be in a building filled with creatures like Kyle and Kelly, or Almighty knows what else was going to be there. Not to mention, she still had one more target that she needed to find, excluding the demon she had been hunting on top of this. That someone went by the name of Barbara.
But, there was just one problem.
Barbara was nowhere to be found.
No matter how hard she looked, and no matter what amount of tracking that Mono attempted, Barbara was impossible to find. Almost as if something was preventing her from being found. Clearly, this Barbara person had some kind of cloaking spell that blocked even Mono's tracking, or, Barbara was doing something else.
But either way, she needed to find Barbara. Once she found her, and once she killed her or turned her into a Vampire, she was going to have a much easier time of things. But as she got off the hood of the car, a very sudden wave of nausea washed over her. Her head felt dizzy, and as she got to her feet, her legs immediately buckled, before promptly vomiting.
It burned the back of her throat like sand paper, and it drew some attention, much to her displeasure. By the time she was done, she felt extremely embarrassed. Not to mention confused. "What the fuck…"
"Oh shit, you good, Jojo?" Gus asked, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. "You sick?"
"I shouldn't be…" Jolyne grumbled, wiping away some of the residue with the back of her hand before flicking it off. "Mono…?"
[I do not know what could be causing this. You do not have any poisoned status effects, nor are you afflicted with scarlet rot. System Users should not be able to get sick, and you physically cannot overfeed anymore.]
"Strange…" Jolyne thought, cupping her forehead as she groaned. "What's the likelihood of that happening again?"
[I do not know, Jolyne. Just be careful. In the meantime, I will do a scan of your body and inform you later. It may take a while for accurate results.]
"Of what?"
[Let us not speculate. I do not believe you are in any danger, of that I can assure you.]
To say that Jolyne wasn't particularly happy about that answer was an understatement. But, there wasn't much else that could be done about it. If there was something that she could do to figure it out herself without Mono's assistance, she would. Knowing the cheeky bastard, he would probably play dumb until it was at a point in time where irony would make fit for the best reveal.
It frustrated her. But there wasn't much that could be done about it anyway. Underneath the vomit, she created a pool of void using Void Creation & Manipulation to suck the vomit away, and into the abyss where it belonged. It garnered her a few looks, but they all looked away when she glanced in their direction. They would more than likely forget what they saw.
"I'm heading out. But, before I do. I want you to meet up with Jack—you'll both know each other when you see him—and he'll take you to a place I bought. That'll be your guy's hideout for the time being. It's the Charleny-Persky House Museum. I "persuaded" the people there to give me the property. He'll take you there. Meet him on North Astor Street and he'll take you to the place," Jolyne explained as Gus nodded.
"Aight, I'll shutdown the party then. Probably the shortest one I've done, but whatever. See ya around, boss lady," Gus said as Jolyne smiled. Teleporting across Chicago and appearing at the location to where Bianca's Ball was supposed to take place, Jolyne couldn't help but be in slight awe of the place.
It was a very large, very imposing building. Bright red brick, large pointed roof with what seemed to be spires like that of an olden day castle. Definitely big enough to have a lot of people within.
The front gates were guarded by two Red Court Vampires, dressed in security guard uniforms, hiding away within security booths. They were bulky as all get out, and could probably rock the jaw off of a regular human with a single clear strike. From what she read of the invite, she was supposed to show up as something that she wasn't. Which, thankfully, was something she could do rather easily. Snapping her fingers, her clothes retook their usual appearance.
Instead what she was wearing before, now, she was adorned in a black and red dress. Black was the majority of the colour, with red sprinkled throughout. It did a lot to highlight her features, and it gave her an air of regality that she otherwise lacked wholesale. She wore a pair of black greaves underneath the dress, and on her hip was a scabbard where she kept her Slime Sword. She had it that way to make it appear as if she was a princess knight.
Although, considering that she was a Dreadknight, she technically was playing her typical role. However, at the same time, it's not as if anyone else knew that, now did they? Although, she wondered… Why was it called a Slime Sword? It wasn't like it was made of slime… was it?
"Actually, I wonder…" Jolyne mused as she grabbed the sword out of its sheath. When she did, she squeezed the hilt, and lo-and-behold, it was made of slime. Squishy, yet firm. It gave her an idea. "Can I mould it?" She questioned, eyebrow raised.
Looking at the sword, she could feel mana pulsing through the blade. Her own mana. That was what had been giving it shape. Allowing it to keep it's physical form. Dispelling the mana and allowing it to be absorbed back into herself, the slime sword melted, before she immediately reconstructed it to something else.
She turned the sword into simple pair of gloves. Form fitting, black gloves, that hardened into something like gauntlets. The System still detected it as Cid Kagenou's Slime Sword, so that meant the item itself didn't change, which was very, very fortunate. It was a lingering fear in the back of her mind that made her second guess the idea. Although now that she knew that it wasn't going to back fire, that made for a few interesting ideas.
Just as she finished transforming her sword into gloves, a pick-up truck pulled onto the side of the road. It lingered for a bit, before Harry Dresden stepped out, alongside a rather large, muscular individual in templar attire. As for Dresden himself, he was dressed like one of those cartoon vampires—cape and all. He even had the fake fangs. It was an insult, but one she couldn't help but chuckle at.
Stifling her laughter, she approached Dresden. The templar knight wannabe had eyes narrowed on her as Dresden's neutral expression didn't change, although there was a great deal of annoyance lurking within. "Hello, Dresden. Fancy seeing you here."
"Kid," Dresden grumbled, looking at her outfit. His eyes lingered for a moment on her chest before quickly snapping away. Pervert. "Nice princess outfit. What's with the knights pants, though?"
"I'm supposed to be a Princess Knight. You know. A princess who doubles as a knight? Fitting, given my job. But I'm also not exactly a princess, nor am I knight. Neither am I both so therefore, it works," Jolyne replied, smirking. Her eyes wandered over to the wannabe templar, before her eyes widened.
He wasn't a wannabe templar knight. He was overflowing with Holy Magic. God, or The Almighty, was watching over him. Giving him power. That meant that whoever that man was, they were a Holy Knight.
Which made Jolyne wonder…. Was Dresden a believer? No, he didn't strike her that way. The man was probably just a close friend of his. "Well, I didn't expect a Holy Knight to be with you, Dresden. How quaint."
"Demon spawn," The Holy Knight addressed, although there wasn't a hint of pure malice in his voice. Distaste, very much so. But not malice like she had expected. "How do you know Dresden?"
"He's supposed to watch over me for The White Council. To make sure I don't do anything out of line in accordance to the deal myself, my Boss, and The White Council made," Jolyne explained as Dresden frowned.
"Uh huh," Dresden said, his frown unflinching. "Speaking of that. I'm going to need to report to The White Council by the end of the day. Morgan's going to be on my ass for it. Did you complete your mission yet, or what?"
"Still looking for the last person on my list. Her name is Barbara. She cheated him, and that's the worst thing you can do in his eyes. She's priority number one for me. I don't know if she's going to be here, but what I do know is that when I find her, she's not going to have a fun time of it, that's for sure. "
The Holy Knight glared at Jolyne, not that she was intimidated in the least. While God might have given him power, he was still just a human in armour. If push came to shove—which she really hoped it didn't—she could probably obliterate him with ease.
"Oh, right. This is Michael. Michael, this is Jolyne. She works for Loki."
"Loki?" The Holy Knight, Michael, asked, seemingly confused. "I'm not so sure, Harry."
"No, I work for Loki. Begrudgingly," Jolyne answered. 'But I also work for someone else. I doubt you know him but—"
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" A voice called out, as Jolyne turned her head over in the direction of where the voice came from. They were tall. Very tall. Somehow even slightly taller than Dresden was. They had slicked back brown hair, and tan skin. Their eyes were a bright red, and they had a very eerie smile on their face, alongside a pair of circle glasses.
They were dressed in a bright red waistcoat, with a white shirt underneath. Their tie was black and red, and around their waist was a thick red corset of sorts. Their pants were a deep shade of black, as were their shoes, and they had a Floridian accent. His eyes drifted over to Jolyne, as his smile somehow became wider. "Ah, if it isn't the main star of the show! I was told I could find you here. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Brooks!"
His voice was very distracting. But, he somehow knew her. "Is he… a Demon?" "Um… Hi? Do I know you?"
"Oh no, no, no, no! You don't know me, but our benefactor as told me quite a bit about you! After all, he owed me a favour, and I cashed in on it. After all, if it wasn't for me, why that darling daughter of his would be more than likely dead or in over her head," The man, possibly Demon, said. His hands had been behind his back the entire time, as if he was attempting to be polite. "Oh, but where are my manners? My name is Alastor—not my full name, of course. That would be stupid of me. Some might know me as The Radio… Star… Yes, we'll go with that."
His eyes drifted over to Michael and Dresden, the latter of whom his eyes seemingly brightened upon seeing. "Ah! If it isn't Harry Copperfield Dresden! I've heard a lot about you, my dear sir. Truly, a pleasure!"
Dresden eye's narrowed, sharply. "Yeah, sure."
"Ah, a tough cookie. Not much applause. A shame, truly. But, of course. I'm forgetting someone," Alastor said, looking over to Michael. "Michael Joseph Patrick Carpenter! Holy Knight of great esteem, and a very soft heart for those he loves. Why, word has gone far and wide about you, Sir Knight."
Alastor's hand was extended toward Michael, his hand outstretched in a friendly manner, but Michael did not budge. His expression was taut with a combination of annoyance, frustration, and anger. "What do you want, Demon," Michael spat, glaring at Alastor, who's smile faltered briefly, before clearing his throat.
"Ah, well. The jig is up, I suppose. But, no matter. My human form can still remain. I am not here for either of you. Not yet anyway," Alastor said, before turning to gesture over to Jolyne. "I was asked by that annoying, prissy, mockery of a ruler, short tempered, power hungry mongrel that I am to call my liege to attend this masquerade party alongside her. And what better costume than being something that I no longer am?"
"But you need an invitation to get in?" Jolyne questioned as Alastor produced one from his pocket. "Oh."
"Before those hooligans kidnapped that young miss, I hounded them for an invite. And by hounded them, I mean I beat one of them to a bloody pulp with my microphone stand! Their screams were very nice on the ears," Alastor said. Dresden scowled, and Michael did the same. Not because of the fact that Alastor beat a couple of vampires to a pulp, but the delight he took in the action.
"You're twisted," Dresden spat as Alastor's smile never waivered, tilting his head as if he didn't understand what Dresden was saying.
"Why, Mr. Dresden, whatever do you mean? I am merely acting as I should!" Alastor said, ignoring the sneer on Dresden's face as he turned to face Jolyne. "Now then, I believe we have wasted enough time, have we not?"
With a collective silence that answered Alastor's question, the ragtag group of four approached the gate. Each of them showed their invite, save for Michael who was considered a guest of Dresden. Once they were allowed entry, they approached the mansion. During their walk up the drive way, of which was done in silence, a black limo began to pull up alongside them, which caught Dresden's attention.
They had to step to the side to let it pass, but by the time they reached the front of the mansion, the guests were already filing out. The group stopped, staring at the limo. There was a strong sensation coming from it that Jolyne picked up on. As if it was trying to burrow its way into her mind. It tried, but failed, with Mono blocking it out. But that didn't stop her skin prickling at the sensation it's brief contact with her mind gave.
"Weird…" Jolyne thought as the driver of the limo came out and around, before opening a passenger side door. Loud, very base heavy music came pounding out, which earned a narrowed eyed borderline sneer—if taught corners of lips could count as a sneer—from Alastor. A moment passed, before finally, someone stepped out.
The individual in question was a man, tall in stature, ashen pale skin, and curly, sable hair that reached down to his shoulders. He was dressed in what could only be considered the gayest thing known to man. He wore a pair of vibrant butterfly wings that expanded out from his shoulders and attached to him via some sort of harness mechanism. Alongside that, he also wore a pair of pair of leather gloves with gauntlet cuffs designed with silver wings.
The same idea was also duplicated for his sandals, stretching up just past his calves. He also had a scabbard at his side, which held what appeared to be the worlds first sword made out of glass. The only thing keeping his junk from being shown to the world was a simple loincloth, but the rest of his body? That was on display for the whole world to see.
He was muscular. Not to a disgusting degree, but to the point where that if anyone, of any gender, were to look upon him they would be drooling. He was walking sex appeal. Down to every contour of his muscle that perfectly overlapped with each other to form the excellent specimen that stood in front of her.
There was a part of her that wanted to latch onto him, just to feel him up. But, that part was stubbornly muted repeatedly by Mono, and it was messing with her head. She could feel the heat in her face, and whether that was out embarrassment or out of something else, she couldn't quite tell. But either way, it was really frustrating.
[It would seem the individual in front of you is omitting a passive attraction aura around himself at all times. A hypnosis spell, meant to draw in those of the opposite or same sex to want to have intercourse with him. He does not seem to be aware it is active. Allow me to increase your mental blocks. One moment.]
As soon as Mono said that, she felt something claw up her back, and then, she no longer felt the desire to latch herself onto the stranger. The flushing of her cheeks slowly disappeared as the prickly sensation along her skin vanished. Now, all she felt was bizarre that there was a mostly naked man standing in front of them.
The man smiled, before reaching behind himself as a slender, delicate looking hand grasped his own. A pair of slender legs stepped out first, as the rest of the individual came out afterward. And, it was at this part where Jolyne truly disliked the fact that she was attracted to both sexes.
Back in Hope's Peak, there weren't many people who caught her interest. Hajime had been the only one, and even then, it was due to latent memories of him and their prior relationship. The other girls of the school were either too thin, or their breasts were too big, or they simply just weren't attractive to her.
But then, along came whoever this fine woman was.
The woman was drop dead gorgeous. It didn't help that what she was "wearing" was very little. It consisted of an extremely short skirt made of flower petals, and the same thing applied to the tips of her breasts. Covered by flower petals and very thin straps that looked basically invisible. Aside from the pink high heels, she wore nothing else. Everything was on display, much like the man.
This time, there was no magical aura that screamed "I want to make you fuck me" that radiated from the woman. That was simply pure, raw, unfiltered beauty. Of course, she had to give the guy some props, too. Even without that aura that, now that she thought about it was very similar to Vampiric Seduction, she would be lying to herself that if she hadn't already been with Hajime that she would probably still want to fuck the shit out of him.
"God, I feel like a slut…" Too many impure thoughts for one meeting. She was looking them up and down, and the last thing she wanted was for them to feel uncomfortable. She wasn't usually like this. There had to have been some kind of spell that was being put on her. Maybe Mono couldn't fully protect her from that "fuck aura" that the man was emanating?
"Harry… You're drooling," Michael said, casting a glance over at Harry, who was, in fact, drooling.
"Am not," Dresden said defiantly, earning a scowl from Michael.
"Come on Harry, that girl looks barely over nineteen years old."
" I am not drooling," Dresden grumbled, the grip on his cane noticeably more tense as he pressed on ahead, intent on introducing himself it seemed.
"My, I would have never taken such a stalwart individual to be swayed so quickly by the likes of a White Court Vampire," Alastor said, his voice distorting like a radio. "Or perhaps it's the woman he's more attracted to? Personally, I do not care for that sort of thing."
"Glad to know you aren't struggling," Jolyne grumbled. Any longer staring at the man and she knew she'd start acting up somehow.
"I'm going to stop him from embarrassing himself…" Michael said, approaching the same direction as Harry. Without much else better to do, Jolyne followed him. She looked over her shoulder at Alastor, who waved.
"Go on ahead, I'll enter the building proper. We can meet back up at another time," Alastor said before seemingly vanishing into a long, out-stretching shadow. Once he vanished, she met up with Dresden and Michael, the latter of whom was just catching up with the former.
"Oh my," The man said, chuckling at Dresden's get up. "You must be Harry Dresden."
Dresden didn't seem too happy about being known, it appeared, as he tensed. Like before with Alastor, his eyes narrowed, albeit not as sharply. "Yeah, that's me. Who the hell are you?"
"Oh, that's right, I forgot. You don't know the inner-workings of the courts. My apologies. I am Thomas, of house Raith, of the White Court of vampires," Thomas introduced with a little bow. He seemed polite, so that was a plus. A 1 to 5 score for this world so far of the polite people.
"White Court," Dresden said, a hint of malice on the tip of his tongue. Clearly, he wasn't too fond of The White Court.
"Three Vampire Courts. Red, Black, and White," Michael added, earning a half-hearted sigh from Dresden.
"I knew that."
"Sorry," Michael said, a shrug following suit.
"Well, two courts, technically. The Black Court has fallen on some hard times. They've dwindled since the last time one of these happened. The poor darlings," Thomas said, although Jolyne was quick to notice the happiness he felt in that regard. Dresden seemed to catch on quick too. "Ah, allow me to introduce Justine."
As Thomas said that, the woman, Justine, drew herself closer to Thomas, her body melting into his as an excited giggle escaped her lips. It was clear to Jolyne that the girl seemed to be rather… excited. Those petals weren't hiding much, and what they were hiding wasn't enough. It almost made Jolyne blanch in disgust. But, she kept her personal feelings on the matter.
"Charmed," Dresden drawled, before gesturing over to Michael. "This is Michael," Dresden said before glancing over at Jolyne. "And that's Jolyne. Hey, wait a minute, where's—"
"He's already inside. Apparently he doesn't like social interaction," Jolyne answered as Dresden grunted.
"Michael…" Thomas mused, looking him up and down. There was a hint of respect in his eyes. "Dressed as a Templar Knight."
"Something like that," Michael replied as Thomas chuffed.
"How ironic," Thomas continued, before drawing his attention to Jolyne, doing the same thing as he did with Michael. "And you're Jolyne? There have been murmurs of a new Court trying to establish themselves. I take it that's because of you?"
"Yeah. I haven't really decided on what to call ourselves yet," Jolyne replied as Thomas smiled.
"Well, if you would like some advice, perhaps… Emerald? After all, your eyes shine like them. I'm fairly certain that I ran into another one with similar eyes on my way here, too. Seems to be a trend," Thomas suggested as Jolyne went to retort, but decided against it.
"Emerald Court…." Jolyne thought, stroking her chin as she smiled. "Thank you, Thomas. I'll take that into consideration."
"You're very welcome," Thomas said, before tilting his head. "I can't tell what you're trying to be, though. Are you a princess, or are you a knight?"
"A Princess Knight. In my homeland of Japan, it's a pretty common trope in our media," Jolyne answered as Thomas hummed.
"Ah, well, I wouldn't have guessed that. Very unique, and fitting," Thomas said, before turning his attention to Dresden. Upon just glancing at him, his eyes widened, and he nearly burst out laughing, having to stop himself. Instead, his smile widened. "And you, Mister Dresden…. That costume is… definitely going to cause a quite a stir."
"Why, thank you."
"Shall we do inside?"
"Yes, lets," the conversation ended there as the now group of five walked up to the entrance. As they did, a part of Jolyne didn't know what was going to happen. But, there was a lingering sensation in the back of her mind that all but told her that this was going to implode.
Maybe it was just her paranoia talking, though. She'd like to think that Bianca wasn't a petty woman, but given that her luck had been garbage in the way of enemies, she'd hazard a guess that something stupid was going to happen here.
"Oh well, it should be fun, either way."
[XXXX]
It didn't take long for the news to reach across Japan that Okinawa City was destroyed. The government was scrambling for answers, the military was being deployed to search for survivors, and the Prime Minister was furious. Evidence suggested that it was an interior attack, not an exterior, so that saved the country from declaring war on anyone, but that did very little to quell the fear and tension.
Hajime stared at the TV with fury boiling in his veins. The Flame was starting to make more serious moves, and they were nowhere nears close to finding them. Chiaki and Kyoko were mortified at the news, but if anything, it made Hajime more determined to find the bastards responsible.
"There's… no way. The Flame did that…?" Kyoko whispered, her face pale as pale could get.
"There's no other explanation…." Chiaki said, swallowing back fear. "I knew they were strong, but… I never would have guessed they would be that strong…"
"That just means we need to find them ASAP," Hajime spat, turning off the TV, before turning to Kyoko and Chiaki. "You two. Actually, fuck it, all of us. We're going back to the Children's Museum and exploring those catacombs. We're not going to stop until that entire place is cleared out."
"Are you insane!" Kyoko exclaimed, standing up from her bed. "We could die!"
"Yes, we could. That's always a possibility. But I'd rather die trying than not trying hard enough. Besides, Chiaki, you said that it seemed to be inter-connected to other hideouts, right?" Hajime said, turning to Chiaki, who nodded.
"Yes. That was what Ms. Pluton and I were able to deduce."
"Good," Hajime grunted, eyes narrowing. "We're going down there, and we're going to exterminate every living being in that place. I am not going to have what happened in Okinawa to happen in Yokohama," Hajime stated matter-of-factly.
"Hinata Hajime. If you would consider my proposition—"
"Not. Happening."
Izuru Kamakura, right. Oh how he wished he could forget that he was now part of him. The first Lord of Frenzied Flame resided within his mind. It had happened recently, when he first appeared. A part of his consciousness unwittingly brought him to Hajime, and now they were one.
According to Kamakura, it had something to do with the fact that their souls were "similar" which was what beckoned Kamakura to become "one" with Hajime. It was bound to happen eventually, according to Kamakura, but he didn't expect it to happen so soon.
Kamakura theorized it had to do with the fact that he had been in close proximity to The Flame of Frenzy for the last little while. His encounters with it bringing Kamakura closer to him in time. It was unnerving, to say the least. And ever since then, Kamakura had been attempting to tempt him toward The Flame of Frenzy.
But every time the idea even so much as came from his mouth, of which this had been the second time, Hajime knocked it down before it could take root. He didn't want it, nor did he need it. He saw first hand what it had done to hundreds of people, and he did not want to end up like that.
Not now, not ever.
"Alright. I signed up for this…" Kyoko grimaced as she looked over to the side of her bed, and grabbed the Soul Split Katana. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"Naturally," Hajime replied swiftly, ensuring all of his guns were on him. He had his shotgun on his back, his hand canons in their holsters, his ammunition was store in all of its right spots, and he even had a few flash bangs in the event they needed to flee. "Does everyone have everything?"
"Yes/Of course," the two girl said in unison as Hajime nodded.
"Alright, then lets—"
Before Hajime could finish his sentence, there was a loud slashing sword that echoed outside the building.
And then…
The building shook, and they began to slide down. Gravity took into effect as everything that wasn't nailed down began to slide forward, crashing through the massive window. Kyoko and Chiaki screamed as Hajime yelled. They all tumbled, falling through the front window, Hajime was able to grab the two and leap off some of the debris to land outside of where the top portion of the building collapsed.
As Hajime set them down, his breathing laboured, he looked at the two girls, who were horrified at what had just happened. Chiaki was the first to collect herself, standing up whilst helping Kyoko.
"What the hell was that?" Kyoko whispered as Chiaki shrugged, still shaken.
"I don't know…" Chiaki said, before looking back in the direction of the building with wide eyes. "Hajime! Behind you!"
Hajime was quick to turn around, grabbing Jackal and aiming it toward whatever was coming at him. He fired without thinking as an explosive round boomed out of the chamber. The round collided with something, blowing it back. The something in question was able to stop their descent by stabbing what appeared to be a Nakakiba into the ground, slicing through the asphalt like it was butter.
Hajime glared, staring at the individual in question as they rose to their feet. They were dressed in thick, black platted armour, although now there were few cracks in the shoulder where his explosive round had met it. Their helmet was like that of a standard bucket helm, only there were clasp marks by something in the upper corner.
There were also some clasp marks on its side, and on its cracked shoulder. As if it had been grabbed by something that was on fire. On their hip was a large sheath, and their the gauntlets fingers were clawed.
Orange, glowing eyes pierced through the helms darkness, as they brought the katana to their center, levelling it toward Hajime. They didn't speak, as Hajime scowled. "Who the hell are you?" Hajime demanded, but earned no response from their assailant.
"That is one of my old cohorts. His name is Jinichiro Kirigiri, ancestor of The Kirigiri Clan, and was mine successor for Lord of Frenzied Flame. He, however, was thwarted long ago by Makaria Plutos. He should be dead, which is why I find it odd that he now still liveth…"
That confused Hajime. How was a Lord of Frenzied Flame from Makaria's era still around? That made no sense…. "Unless… Time is decaying?"
"That is a possibility. The stronger a Lord of Frenzied Flame becometh, the more power they command. In mine prime, I was able to melt away timelines I did not desire to come into existence, and I couldst pull upon other planes for assistance. We of Flame art linked together. Bound by creed. More likely than not, Enoshima Junko pulled Jinichiro from his time to aid her. It was likely from a time before he wert clasped by The Three Fingers. He wearth my armour. Your armour."
Hajime elected to ignore that last part, reaching into the pouch next to him. Jinichiro did not move. He stood stock still, preparing for whatever fight was about to go down. Chiaki and Kyoko didn't move either, though it was more to due with wanting to know what Hajime was going to do.
Pulling out one of the coins, he began to snap it as a rainbow light began to glow… until it switched to a blackened, ethereal glow that seemingly spouted stars. Hajime had no idea what it was he was drawing upon, but what he did know was that it must be powerful. Once the coin was snapped in half, something heavy appeared in Hajime's right hand. It wasn't a gun, but it was a weapon.
A very, very powerful weapon.
When Hajime looked at it, his eyes widened.
It was a twin blade with two massive swords on each end. But, they weren't just any twin blades. They looked to be imbued with The Frenzied Flame. Incredibly sharp points with serrated edges, with frenzied embers rising from the blunt parts of the blade.
"Why…? Why did I receive a Frenzied Flame weapon?"
"I do not know. Weapons art drawn at random. However, that weapon belonged to The Very First Lord of Frenzied Flame. Her name was banished from history, even to us Lords, for committing The Worst Sin. For you to be given her weapon… Destiny seems to have plans for you, Hinata Hajime."
Hajime scowled. He didn't like the implications, but he wasn't about to throw away the weapon he got. It was regrettable that it was a Frenzy weapon, but so long as he didn't use its tied-along skill, he should be fine.
His guns weren't doing anything to the armour—Jackal was strong enough to blast down walls, so for the armour to be only cracked instead of instantly destroyed showed it's durability. He didn't want to waste ammo on shooting at an incredibly durable wall.
Putting away Jackal, he gripped the twin blade with both hands, and got into a battle stance. "Ladies… On my command, we fight." Hajime said as both Kyoko and Chiaki nodded. Kyoko held the Soul Split Katana similar to how Jinichiro was holding his own, and Chiaki summoned a massive wind hammer to lug over her shoulder, alongside a straight sword in her other hand.
Jinichiro's eyes seemingly narrowed as he adjusted his footwork.
And then, he spoke.
"Hinata Hajime… Descendant of our Lord… Our True Lord… Plunder that which belong to you, and restore the treaty of yore. I hereby challenge you. To test you. A battle to the death, to see if the flame will truly sanction you Lordship."
"I have no intention of claiming The Flame," Hajime bit out as Jinichiro chuckled, his laugh deep and filled with what seemed like nostalgia.
"True Lord of Frenzied Flame… The choice was never thy's to maketh. Twas already decided for thou admist thine birth."
And then, they charged.
[Ending Song – request – by: krage]
[To Be Continued]
Notes:
Once more, I leave you on a cliffhanger! Haha! Anyway, it seems the stakes are rising! We're nearing the end of the first arc of Book Two. Huzzah! Arc two is going to be insane, I'll tell you what. We're leading up to the start of something wild. Things are about to get intense, and I hope you all are excited for what's to come.
Also, I wonder what's going on with Jolyne… Hmmm….
Anyway, now it's time for my response to reviews/comments!
(Qoutev) SunkyAddict: I can, and I did. It was quite fun to write, actually. At least there's somewhat of an upside, right? (Ignore Sayaka's group dying) but yeah, there's definitely an upside!
And, that's it. Sadge.
Any who, that's all there is from me. See ya!
Chapter 11: Chapter 9: On The Edge of Madness
Notes:
Fair warning, this chapter is gonna pick up the pace of things a little bit. Massive lore drops in-coming! I said that this book was gonna have a lot of shit in it, and this is one of them. Them stakes do be increasing lol.
Also, fair warning, most of the chapter is pure Hajime Hinata glazing.
By the way, no one tells you just how hard it is to effectively squeeze three plots that could be their own book into one story, with limited chapters. I'm sorry if this is rushed (lowkey I know it is) but if I want to get this done within the chapter limit I'm applying to myself, this is the only real way.
By the way, it's recommended that for this chapter, since it's essentially a long, drawn out fight scene, I recommend reading it with "Devil Trigger" in the background. A very fitting battle theme, if I do say so for myself.
Anyway, ya'll know the deal. Reviews/comments at the end of the chapter. Let's get into this shit!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
[Opening Song: TRASH CANDY – by: GRANRODEO]
"Of course, we all knew what this meant. A new Court of Vampires appearing out of thin air, marked with the same eyes as The Emerald Queen made it very clear to our informants that they were linked. We attempted to crush them with brute force before they could take hold. The result was failure. A Warden, two Warden's in training, and a handful of White Council affiliated Wizards were defeated. The Warden was killed, the two Warden in Training were turned, and the White Council affiliated Wizards met the same fate as The Warden. The Emerald Queen herself did not make mention of the transgression, and simply pretended it did not happen. That should have been our sign, as a collective, to back off. But, unfortunately, that did not happen." – Quote from "The Fall: How It Happened", page 23, Paragraph's 6 through 8.
[Chapter 9: On The Edge of Madness]
Hajime was the one to close the distance between his group and Jinichiro, swinging his new twin blade from his right hip, the pointed edge thrusting horizontally toward Jinichiro, aiming for his stomach. Jinichiro turned to the left, dodging the thrust attack, shifting his Nagakiba and stance to a full left-hand stance, and slashed from a downward angle, frenzied flame trailing the blade as Hajime quickly stepped aside.
The heat of the flames licked the side of Hajime's face, just barely coming into contact with his skin, his flesh heating up just being near it. Using both hands, he spun his blade clockwise, the sharp end smashing into Jinichiro's armour. Jinichiro staggered briefly, which allowed Chiaki to flank his left, slamming down the massive wind hammer, aiming for the top of his head.
Jinichiro, using his instinct alone, dodged out of the way as the hammer crashed into the ground, cracking the asphalt where he stood. "Where did he go?!" Chiaki shouted, only to turn around and clash blades with Jinichiro.
However, unlike when Hajime and Jinichiro clashed, Chiaki was sent flying, her back slamming against the pavement as she tumbled repeatedly, before slamming into a parked car, gasping in pain as small flecks of blood flew out of her mouth, decorating her shirt.
"CHIAKI!" Hajime shouted, looking over his shoulder at her, eyes wide. He snapped his head back around, letting one hand go of the twin blade, before reaching for Jackal, whipping it toward Jinichiro as the muzzle of the gun pressed against his chest plate. Hajime fired, the recoil of the gun forcing his arm up and pushing him slightly to the left.
The area of impact that the bullet hit exploded, as per obvious due to the round being an explosive one. It knocked Hajime back even further, using the twin blade to decrease his speed. For Jinichiro, he was sent flying backward, only stopping when he shoved one of his feet into the ground. The left side of his chest plate was cracked, which went to show just how durable the piece of armour had been.
However, while the damage was frustratingly little, that wasn't his main reason for shooting him like he had.
Because while Jinichiro was purely focused on Hajime, he had completely ignored Kyoko.
While Kyoko was by no-means a fighter, she knew how to observe a situation—she was a detective after all—and she knew how to spot an opening when she saw one.
It also helped that her learning Karate and other various martial arts, not to a master's level or anything of the sort, due to her grandfathers rapid paranoia, meant that she was good at dodging and had the agility to do so.
Closing the gap between herself and Jinichiro, the Split Soul Katana held with the curve of its blade forward facing and low to the ground and to the right, with a grunt of effort Kyoko swung the blade upward. Jinichiro's eye narrowed under his helm, and in the split second he noticed the attack, he was about to raise his blade, only for Kyoko to hit him first.
The blade slammed into his armour, across his upper chest. Jinichiro expected the blow to be blocked by the armour, but the way his eyes widened as a cut the size of the blade manifested itself across his chest underneath the armour, and the surge of blood the came afterward was enough to make him hiss in realization.
The weapon ignored all defences.
However, Jinichiro wasn't given the chance to recuperate. From the distance, a massive green arrow flew through the sky, passing by Hajime's head and aiming straight for Jinichiro's stomach. Jinichiro raised his katana, swinging it down on Kyoko, who dodged out of the way. With the following upward motion, Jinichiro blocked the massive, car-sized arrow.
Which then exploded on impact, and created a small tornado, which carried him into the air.
And then, out of nowhere, Chiaki ran past Hajime and Kyoko, leapt up into the air, before raising a massive green ethereal hammer above her head. Her eyes gleamed with raw power, as with a shout, she slammed the massive hammer down on Jinichiro, forcing him through the tornado and creating a massive crater in the ground from the impact.
The shockwave of the impact shook several buildings nearby, as Chiaki repelled herself back, standing side by side with Hajime and Kyoko. "Jerk," Chiaki spat, wiping blood from the sides of her mouth.
"Chiaki, are you okay?" Hajime asked, concern in his voice as Chiaki smiled, albeit it was forced.
"I'm fine. It sucks that I had to waste my Ult… I don't think I can do that again without passing out," Chiaki said as Hajime nodded.
"Conserve your energy, I'm pretty sure Kyoko and I can take this guy out," Hajime said as Kyoko hummed in acknowledgement. The three of them stared at the crater, waiting to see what was going to happen.
Hajime was nervous. Chiaki was, objectively, the second strongest between the three of them. A part of him deemed it smart to flee—to run away from the current situation and regroup. But, he also knew, in the back of his mind, that Jinichiro would more than likely track them down. Resting wasn't an opinion until he was defeated.
Tension rose between the group of three. Hajime's grip on his twin blade increased, Kyoko adjusted her stance, and Chiaki exhaled sharply, sweat building up on her forehead. Smoke began to rise from the crater, and trails of Frenzied Flame rose out of the crater alongside the smoke.
Hajime narrowed his eyes, as something began climbing out of the crater. The top half of Jinichiro's armour was gone, revealing nothing but a very toned, muscular chest that now sported a massive cauterized wound going from his abs to his shoulder. A hagaromo scarf made of Frenzied Flame levitated around his shoulders and behind his head.
Speaking of his head, Jinichiro's face bore that of a striking resemblance to the headmaster, with the sole difference behind the massive scar running across his forehead down to his left eye. His hair was also longer, reaching down to his shoulders, and it was a much more faded purple than that of the headmaster.
Jinichiro's eyes were also different. They looked… empty, save for the orange pinpricks that remained. A key indicator that Jinichiro had been completely taken over by the Frenzied Flame. Swirling with chaos and nothingness, all brightened by a flame that only wished to burn away everything.
It was haunting.
It was pure evil.
It represented everything that sought the destruction of existence itself.
Pure, unmitigated insanity.
And yet, the way he walked… The way he appeared… He seemed very much in control of himself. Jinichiro raised his hand, palm first, up to his face, staring at it before lowering it.
He looked back over to Hajime and everyone else. It was then that Hajime realized something. This was not someone who was afflicted by The Flame of Frenzy. For an affliction would mean being at odds with it.
Jinichiro Kirigiri was in perfect synchronization with The Flame of Frenzy. He was, after all, a Lord. Someone who was chosen by The Flame. Meant to represent it. Not driven mad by it, because it chose him as much as he chose it.
So, if that was the case…
If The Flame had chosen Hajime, would that mean he would be the same under its influence?
"No! Idiot, don't even think like that! You're supposed to fight it, not become it!" Hajime thought, snapping at his own subconscious as he glared daggers at Jinichiro. "Nice form change. You desperate or something?"
Jinichiro sighed, as if disappointed before throwing his arm out to the right, and upon doing so, a flaming great sword appeared out of thin air. Hajime recognized it. He had seen it before. It was the same great sword that was wielded by that flaming beast that attacked Hope's Peak Academy.
"What the…" Hajime muttered as Jinichiro smiled.
"Irony, tis it not?" Jinichiro questioned, tilting his head slightly to the left as he looked over at the sword. "The Great sword of Damnation, something thou hast encountered afore. Be far from me to not quell thy curiosities, young Lord. Twas my sword, in an age long past. Alas, mine death seeded it to those whomst were worthy of becoming a Lord. I believe the last person whomst wielded this blade was… Ah, yes, Oma Kokichi. Truly, a twisted soul worthy of Lordship. Much more than the current Lord."
As Jinichiro spoke, his eyes lingered on Kyoko, frowning. "I see it now. Mine descendants haft forsaken the brilliance of The Flame. How… disappointing. I gave mine humanity for the sake of those beneath us, and yet, t'would seemth that lesson was not reciprocated. Was mine sacrifice not enough? Didst thy fall back upon thy ways? Is trickery and deceit all mine people know?"
"You're insane!" Kyoko shouted, and yet, despite the determination in her eyes, fear caked her body with sweat as he hands shook. "None of our family tree's show you in them! Who the hell even are you?!"
"I was once Kirigiri Jinichiro. I forsake mine titles and name to inherit The Flame of Frenzy. Now, I art The Lord of Frenzied Flame. At least, I was. Mine form is nothing more than a memory. Brought back to remind The Lord what thoust true calling be."
As Jinichiro spoke, Hajime barely had the chance to blink before Jinichiro was in front of him, great sword raised above his head and prepared to strike. Without thinking, he grabbed the twin blades with both hands, and squeezed as hard as he could. Using the blade like a shield, he blocked the attack, the flaming great sword clashing against the twin blades.
"Use it, Hinata. Use thy gift!" Jinichiro demanded, but Hajime refused. He was above this nonsense. He would not use the thing he was set upon destroying.
He would not give in to Izuru.
As the two blades smashing together pushed Hajime back, breaking the asphalt as he was pushed. Kyoko rushed toward Jinichiro, Split Soul Katana trailing behind her as she went to strike him, mere inches away from her target….
Jinichiro spun, leaving a trail of flame in his twirling form, and when that happened, his body contorting inhumanly, as if his spine dislocated several times, something that would usually kill a man. Yet, it did not kill Jinichiro, as he no longer was a man, but something far more terrifying.
And the result…?
Jinichiro's right hand clasped the side of Kyoko's head, as a pillar of orangish, yellow flames erupted. The fire quickly spread to the rest of her body, rendering her aflame as he spiked her into the ground, his body twisting back around to being normal.
The flames petered out, leaving behind a mostly burnt Kyoko, who was covered in third and second degree burns, unable to scream, unable to move without being in tremendous pain, as orange liquid melted out of her face, nose, and mouth.
Chiaki screamed in horror, falling backward and scrambling away as far as she could, but in the blink of an eye, Jinichiro loomed over her, his free hand aimed directly at Chiaki. Flame coiled along his arm, and in less than a second, a torrent of flame shot out toward Chiaki, slamming into her and burning her.
And there was nothing that Hajime could have done.
It all happened in less than a second—a blink and you'd miss it scenario, pulled straight out of Hajime's worst nightmares.
When the flames died, most of Chiaki was burnt, her face was covered in burns, her clothes had been burned away, but the majority of her body was covered in so many burns, it really didn't matter. Orange gunk leaking from her eyes as she collapsed into the fetal position, choking out something that sounded like "help", but her voice was so strained, so damaged, that she couldn't even eek out a single word.
"Now, thou hast no more distractions," Jinichiro said, his voice calm as Hajime stared, horror stricken across his face as he stared at what remained of his friends. "Hinata Hajime, would-be Lord of Frenzied Flame, destined by the great divine Outer God of Chaos, show me thy flame. Show me thy resolve. Show me thy rage."
It was less of a request, and moreso an order.
And yet, Hajime could not move.
He could not say a word.
He was far too stricken with despair at the moment. Sinking to his knees, at his own uselessness. His inability to do anything, in that moment. Watching helplessly, as the person he was supposed to protect and one of his long term friends, were simply put to waste. As if they were meaningless. Burned away like bugs caught in a bug zapper.
It was meaningless death.
Chaos unburdened.
"Or, you can stop being a moron, and use the gift I gave you."
A new voice appeared in his head. It was much more… brash. Heavy with attitude and clear annoyance. Like someone who was fed up with something, and it scrapped across his mind like an infection. A deadly poison draped within layers of cruel irony.
"Oh? Thy haft graced us with thine presence? Tis a rarity, but a welcome one."
"Oh, shut it. Besides, it was about time that someone decided to be practical about this whole mess. I'm only here because this is frustrating." The new voice, distinctly female, spoke with a hint of irritation in her voice. "That guy just killed your friends. Stand up and avenge them already. Chaos is whatever you want it to be. Knowledge, in the case of the old fool, and stopping rampant oppression for me. Destroying the world is what the current Lord want's to do, but that's all she wants. Your will is more powerful than hers, hence the flame choosing you. Don't throw it away. The end game is always the end of the world, but for the time being, use it. It expects you to. The Flame of Frenzy is not evil. It is only evil if you make it."
It was a fresh perspective, and one that made Hajime realize something.
She was right.
Nothing is ever outright evil. It is only evil if you make it. "Evil" as a concept, while applicable to very few things, was not a universal concept. Neither was "Good." To apply such a thing to a being so far beyond the scope of normality would be ludicrous.
It's goals—the end of all life—was objectively bad. Hajime knew that. That was an immutable fact that he could not ignore. It was why, up until now, he saw no reason to ever accept The Flame as is.
However, standing before him was an obstacle that he simply could not pass without extra assistance. Jolyne was not here. Jolyne could not help him, and Ms. Pluton was more than likely too far away to aid him. Not to mention the fact that he had no means of contact with her.
And while he truly did not want this to have to be the case, he saw no way out of this outside of his death.
And if there was one thing he wasn't going to do, it was willingly allow himself to be killed. Especially when he still had a daughter to go home to.
Especially when he had someone who was no doubt going to need him when she returned, and someone whom he really, really needed to apologize too.
He just hoped that she would understand why he was about to make the decision that he was going to make.
"Izuru. Do it."
"Thou hast come to thine senses, yes? Very well. It is now thine to do as thou wishest."
A small, tiny laugh escaped his lips, as Jinichiro stared at him, judging, waiting. He dared not move, not because of any fear or trepidation, but because he was simply waiting for it to happen.
And he was correct on his judgment.
It started small. Mere embers at first, as they fell from his skin. Then, small wisps of flame began to dot all over his skin. As if re-activated. Jinichiro knew why this was, because he had been there when it happened all those years ago. When Jinichiro was nothing more than a preverbal fly on the wall. Watching, like the other Lords of yore.
At the site of The Right of Passage for those who were born into the cult. To stand before The Three Fingers, and receive judgment, for birthing whilst being a member of The Cult was strictly forbidden.
But The Three Fingers viewed this as an exception, and took a liking to the infant. Perhaps it was due to something beyond their sight, but The Three Fingers had taken the baby, and gently held it within its palm.
He had been there, in spiritual form, watching what took place. The baby was gently grasped, meaning that The Three Fingers took it to be Lord. Jinichiro knew that it was due to the fact that it shared the blood of Izuru, and most likely his soul, too, and was merely keeping in line with its pact that was made centuries ago.
But the Cult did not want it.
The Cult rebelled.
The Cult beat The Baby black and blue and left it out to die.
But The Baby lived on.
The Baby was a living God, and thus could not die.
And now, it made sense to Jinichiro. Why he had been ordered by The Flame to "find The Lord of Frenzied Flame."
Enoshima Junko was not The Lord of Frenzied Flame.
She was a usurper.
She stole half The Flame from it's rightful holder, hence why the lordling did not recall it's purpose. Because of it's lost purpose, the rest of the flame sealed itself within the depths of his soul, waiting to released.
Awaiting the day that the young Lordling would recall its calling.
And now, as he stared at Hinata Hajime, as Frenzied Flame coiled around his very being, snaking around his arms, wrapping around his neck, before creating a similar hagaromo scarf to his very own. His eyes glowed a devilish yellow that roared with the power of The Flame, he knew that he was staring at the half-complete Lord of Frenzied Flame.
The True Lord of Frenzied Flame.
At first, he viewed it as nonsense that The Outer God of Chaos spat. But, he did not wish to anger his master. Thusly, he pursued it, and allowed himself to be summoned by that insufferable brat.
Now, he was glad he had.
However, what happened next completely baffled him.
His clothing changed. What replaced his current look was now that of a dark green robe of sorts, allowed to flow open, revealing the cracks in his skin that flowed with Frenzied Flame. The robe was burnt at the edges, with those burns glowing with flame. His pants remained the same, as did his boots, but his guns were now tucked into newly fashioned holsters that were made of molten stone.
Hajime looked at his twin blade, and noticed that there was a small cut in the shaft. He slide the two blades free, turning them into twin great swords.
And that was when Jinichiro realized what was happening.
Hajime… was being guided by her.
"Of course, that disrespectful child got involved. Tis in her nature," Jinichiro thought, levelling his blade toward Hajime. "T'would seemth thou haft some assistance, Hinata."
"Let's just say that they had some rather… enlightening words, so to speak," Hajime replied, as the twin great swords surged to life, Frenzied Flame erupting around them, as a devilish smirk took up his expression. "You're gonna regret pissing me off!"
As if it were like second nature, Hajime stomped the ground beneath him, shifting the earth as flaming spikes soared up through the ground in a sea of death that Jinichiro instinctively dodged to the left to avoid, only to have Hajime appear in front of him with a wild look in his eyes. It took him off guard, as he prepared a counter attack, only for Hajime to slam the edges of his two great swords into Jinichiro.
The force of the blow was enough to create a massive wave of power that tore through buildings alike, turning them to rubble as Jinichiro was carried away by the surge of strength. Every building he passed was vaporized.
"This strength, with only half of The Flame…! It surpasses even mine!" Jinichiro thought, as he flipping through the air, landing on his feet. Jinichiro readied his great sword, before swinging back with power of his own, sending a similar-sized shockwave back at Hajime. Hajime, realizing what was about to happen, grabbed both Chiaki and Kyoko's bodies, leapt into the air, before vanishing into a pillar of flame.
As the wave of air slashed through everything, eviscerating whatever was in its wake, Hajime appeared far, far away—back in central Tokyo to put both Chiaki and Kyoko in front of a hospital, before vanishing back to Yokohama, all in the span of a few seconds.
When he re-appeared, he did so behind Jinichiro. Jinichiro spun around, but just as he did, he was socked in the side of the head by a flaming punch. The force of the blow uplifting the ground to such a degree it almost created a ramp made of debris—jagged and rocky—as well as levelling several buildings ranging from twenty storeys tall to measly two floors.
This power—this amount of strength—Hajime was not used to using it. He lacked control, and as a result, he was using all of it in a single go. Jinichiro, in turn slugged back with the same amount of power, hitting Hajime in the head with equal force, creating a similar if not exact same effect to the other side of the street.
Hajime's face, twisted into a smile, caved under the pressure of the blow, but it re-adjusted like it was nothing. Flame surged around his body as he reconnected the twin blades, twirling them with ease as flame erupted from them, sending a tornado of Frenzied Flame toward Jinichiro.
The flames melted everything in its path as Jinichiro pushed against the force. Every remaining bit of rubble, every hint of asphalt, any corpses that were within the debris—absolutely everything was destroyed, as if it were nothing at all.
And Hajime laughed all the while. Overtaken by grief, rage, and sorrow, amplified by The Flame of Frenzy. He was firing on all cylinders, channelling his emotions into his power, which in doing so, made The Flame stronger.
Frenzy had multiple meanings. To be insane, or, to be so wroth with emotion, that you were simply driven to a state of "frenzy."
The Flame of Frenzy was Chaos—pure, uninterrupted, true to life Chaos. It cared not how it was used, it simply wanted to be used.
And use it Hajime did.
Jinichiro was able to withstand the blast, due to being a creature of Frenzy himself, but that did not change the fact that it hurt, and it hurt a lot. Nevertheless, he charged through the flame, reaching Hajime as he thrust his great sword forward, piercing his flesh and impaling him, causing blood to spew out of his mouth.
Had Hajime still been mortal, that would have killed him.
But in his acceptance of the flame, Hajime had transcended humanity.
He had become a something more
Hajime's eyes burned as he let out a fierce roar, grabbing Jinichiro's wrist, and forcing him to cut through Hajime diagonally, the blade tearing through anything and everything that got in its way all at once. Blood sprayed over Jinichiro all at once, his eyes widening.
And as the blade cut through Hajime, travelling through his stomach, torso, upper chest, and shoulder, The Flame of Frenzy sealed the wound in tow.
He was doing the one thing that most newbie Lords typically did not know they could do. Jinichiro, someone who, before dying, had access to the flame for three years and trained with it relentless, hadn't even been able to do it.
He was healing using The Flame of Frenzy.
It made sense now. Of course, what else could this have possibly been? Hajime wasn't just chosen by The Outer God of Chaos. He might as well have been its vassal. That would the only thing that could explain such a sudden spike in mastery.
"Hinata… Thou art more in synch with The Flame than I," Jinichiro mused, almost proud. Then, Hajime ripped the twin blades upward, both molten metallic weapons cleaving through Jinichiro as he twirled the blade around with a degree of practice that no one with his level of inexperience should have been able to.
Yet, Hajime could, because he was actively drawing upon the memories of The First. Viewing how she used the weapon, he danced with the blade, twisting and cavorting with the blade in tow, leaving behind trails of flame in his wake.
This was no longer a fight.
It was a display.
Hajime Hinata had been reborn. From the moment he accepted the flame, he no longer was that of a human mortal. For when he accepted The Frenzied Flame, he had awoken something deep within himself.
The very thing that Jinichiro had been tasked to retrieve had finally shown itself.
The True Lord of Frenzied Flame—no, more than that.
Hajime Hinata wasn't just The Lord of Frenzied Flame. For that implied that he was someone who simply used it.
And now, the world would have no choice but to bear witness to the bare flesh of the one who would burn it all away, and his overwhelming intensity!
Jinichiro grit his teeth, and did his best to block as many of the attacks as he could. Metal clashed against metal, going blow for blow, rupturing the ground with each strike, tearing apart buildings just by existing.
It was as if two Gods were battling—and by all rights, that was what was happening. Two, albeit heavily weakened, Gods clashing in the land of mortals. Both with expressions of wild hunger, demanding to be sated with attack upon attack.
Jinichiro was able to break away from the flurry of strikes and swing a sea of chaos flame toward Hajime, who dove through it as if it meant nothing to him, burning his skin to cinders before it promptly flared back into existence in an explosion of frenzied flame.
Reaching for one of his guns, Hajime grabbed Casull—the gun now marked with flame—before firing a single round. The bullet was not that of a regular bullet; not even an explosive round. It was made of pure, concentrated Frenzied Flame. Like a tiny, compact sun. It seared its way through to Jinichiro, who parried the shot as it flung off to a nearby collection of buildings, and exploded in a ball of fire that evaporated everything in its wake.
Jinichiro re-engaged with Hajime, their blades clashing once more. Flames erupted from their exchange of blows, replicating the sound of a fiery explosion that echoed throughout all of Yokohama.
Residents of the city that weren't in the area of the fight were fleeing the city as fast as they could, and those who tried to figure out what was going on could not process even a fraction of it.
It was like a blur of movement, each attacking happening within one hundred millionth of a second. No normal human—even one blessed by magic and had become intertwined with it—could perceive the sheer power at display.
Two beings capable of moving and reacting at the speed of light duking it out in the middle of Yokohama, eviscerating everything within their way.
However, in the end, Hajime was simply better.
Not because of technique.
Not because of skill.
But sheer, unfiltered, unmitigated talent.
For Hajime Hinata wasn't The Ultimate Gunslinger.
Hajime Hinata was something much more than that. He was born into the Flame, given a blessing by The Frenzied Flame—Outer God of Chaos, Destruction, Vengeance, and some would even say Justice, if not ill-suited Justice.
Hajime Hinata was, and always would have been, The Ultimate Lifeform.
Their blades clashed with each other one final time, and as soon as that happened, Jinichiro was sent flying through several buildings, levelling them and the surrounding buildings to nothing as he crashed into a massive, 2 mile wide crater in the center of Yokohama, blood spewing out of his mouth.
Hajime appeared above Jinichiro, having leapt into the air, gracefully, like that of a ballet dancer, before spinning in the air like a drill, slamming his feet down into Jinichiro's chest with such violence that, for the first time in his entire life, Jinichiro felt true pain.
Even when he battled that Makaria girl 130 years ago, he didn't feel this kind of pain. Even in death, as he faded away, he had never felt that level of anguish.
And it only got worse, as when Jinichiro was forced deeper into the ground, a burning, writhing hole of frenzy appeared around him, and erupted like a volcano. The beam of yellow flame pierced the sky, reaching into the very heavens as it tore through the ozone layer with ease, ripping away any clouds as well.
The beam expanded and expanded, until it usurped a majority of Yokohama, before it sucked itself back in, leaving nothing in its wake.
And then, it exploded.
The explosion was massive. The ball of fire left in its wake expanded and expanded, vaporizing everything left behind, scorching, melting, and dissolving everything in its wake. It left nothing behind, seeping into the ground and erasing it like an unwanted plague.
People tried to run. Keyword being "tried", but it was no use. Nothing within the limits of Yokohama could escape the flame's grasp. Death was rampant, unending. A ceaseless torrent of pain and agony.
And in the span of five seconds, the port city of Yokohama…
Simply ceased to be.
As a matter of fact, the land that Yokohama sat on, was also gone. Erased, like it did not even exist in the first place. Water rushed in, taking over the empty space gradually. Every living thing on the planet saw what had happened—and how could they not? It was as if God himself decided to erase that part of the land. For what purpose, none knew.
Many churches across the world proclaimed that it was a sign that Judgment Day was afoot.
Many people feared that it was aliens coming to invade.
The Governments of the world scrambled to find answers, and Japan's own government was in a frenzy of their own, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
But no one were more bamboozled, and afraid, than Jin Kirigiri. His daughter was in Yokohama—the same place that just got blasted by that beam of flame.
In the span of 24-hours, two of Japan's major cities were wiped off the map.
No longer could humanity deny it. Something greater than they had ever imagined was afoot.
And at the center of it all, Hajime levitated, looking down at his handiwork with a mix of awe, anger, and terror. Awe, at the fact that his weapon caused him to do that. Anger, because of the amount of people who had no doubt lost their life due to his inability to control himself. And terror, because he, someone who was only ever supposed to amount to a mere gunslinger, just wiped out what was effective to a small island worth of things in less than ten seconds.
Hajime sighed as his weapons, The Dancers Great Twin blade, vanished in a surge of flame. Yet, Hajime knew that they were still instinctively there, ready to be summoned at a moment's notice. And as he looked over the destruction that he had caused, he couldn't help but feel his stomach twist into several knots.
He had done this.
He had caused all of that death and destruction, and it hurt him to his core. The weight of all the dead laid upon his shoulders, and his shoulders alone. It made him sick to his stomach. The voices of hundreds of thousands of souls screaming, crying, begging to be put to rest all swelled within his very being.
He closed his eyes, and the voices went quiet. They ceased their incessant wailing. Peace returned, as tranquility followed. In a blink of an eye, he teleported back to the hospital, appearing in a flash of fire. He smothered the flames within, his eyes changing back to normal, the flames seeping back into his skin. But, his outfit remained, his old clothes tossed to the side and replaced with his current attire.
Hajime entered the hospital without much fanfare, pushing back the atrocities that he had just caused. As he entered, he could hear them. Hear their souls—Kyoko's and Chiaki's. If he had to guess, it was due to them having been afflicted. They were linked. As a matter of fact, he could hear more than just them. Hundreds of others, too.
"This is so… bizarre…"
And yet, he pushed forward regardless of that. Like instinct, he knew where Chiaki and Kyoko were being held. He did not care for the doctors trying to stop him, he merely pushed past them. When he got to the hospital room they were being kept in—wrapped up in bandages like mummies, groaning and writhing underneath—Hajime could only stare at them with a heap of woe in his eyes.
He had failed them.
They were struggling because of him.
"Sir, you cannot be in here! This is the intensive care unit!" One of the more persistent doctors shouted, but Hajime paid him no mind.
"There has to be a way I can undo this…. There has to be! Izuru, please!"
"Simply pull thy flame out. Place thine hand upon their faces, covered or no, and thou can taketh thy flame. Not only wouldst it grant you more strength, but it t'would cure them of their ailment."
Hajime did not waste a beat. He first walked over to Chiaki and in one fluid motion, he placed his hand upon her face. As soon as he did, his eyes widened. He could see it. Where the flame had burrowed itself—within her soul. Like a parasite, it was leeching off of her, destroying her. Slowly, but surely. If given enough time, it would kill her.
But Hajime refused to allow it.
He could feel it, like it was in the palm of his hand. Like a claw, he snagged it and pulled. When he did, he raised his hand slowly, methodically, as yellowish orange flame drew out of her eyes, nose, and mouth.
One of the nurses who had been holding a tray with food on it dropped it, the contents spilling on the floor. He paid her no mind, watching as the flame coiled around the sleeve of his new attire, before sinking past it and into his skin.
Chiaki's groaning and writhing ceased, leaving her dead silent. Almost lifeless. Had it not been for the heart monitor hooked up to her, he would have believed her dead. He then quickly turned his attention to Kyoko, and did the same thing. The same song and dance occurred, and Kyoko was cured.
"This… This changes everything!" Hajime thought, before a massive headache split through his mind. Like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. His eyes shot toward the direction of Tokyo, narrowing like a hawk.
It was a connection.
No… not a connection.
A taunt.
A mental jab meant to get his attention.
And it was coming from Hope's Peak Academy.
Which meant….
Junko Enoshima was finally on the move.
[-To Be Continued-]
[Ending Song: request – by: krage]
Notes:
Dun, dun, dun! Junko is on the move? And she's going to Hope's Peak? Uh oh! I wonder what's going to happen…
Anyway, let's get into my response to reviews/comments!
(Ao3) void_boi1: Can it get much higher? (So high…)
And that's that.
Join the discord server: Pva9PNxAzh
Until next time! Peace out!
fluffycuddlebug on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Mar 2025 05:59PM UTC
Comment Actions
AidenJacksonSmithDSBB on Chapter 2 Sun 09 Feb 2025 09:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
WilburDrake on Chapter 2 Sun 09 Feb 2025 07:22PM UTC
Comment Actions
WilburDrake on Chapter 2 Sun 09 Feb 2025 09:02PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 09 Feb 2025 09:03PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kolt (Guest) on Chapter 2 Mon 10 Feb 2025 01:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
fluffycuddlebug on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Mar 2025 07:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
AidenJacksonSmithDSBB on Chapter 3 Sun 30 Mar 2025 08:10AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeathlyJazzHands55 on Chapter 3 Fri 16 May 2025 11:09AM UTC
Comment Actions
AidenJacksonSmithDSBB on Chapter 3 Fri 16 May 2025 01:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeathlyJazzHands55 on Chapter 3 Fri 16 May 2025 10:29PM UTC
Comment Actions
JustSomeoneCooler on Chapter 3 Sun 30 Mar 2025 07:11PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kolt (Guest) on Chapter 3 Tue 08 Apr 2025 01:51AM UTC
Comment Actions
WilburDrake on Chapter 3 Sun 18 May 2025 12:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
Kolt (Guest) on Chapter 5 Fri 23 May 2025 08:51AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeathlyJazzHands55 on Chapter 5 Fri 23 May 2025 08:55AM UTC
Comment Actions
WilburDrake on Chapter 5 Tue 27 May 2025 02:47PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 08 Jun 2025 05:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
WilburDrake on Chapter 8 Fri 08 Aug 2025 07:32PM UTC
Comment Actions
void_boi1 on Chapter 10 Sun 17 Aug 2025 12:56AM UTC
Comment Actions
void_boi1 on Chapter 11 Mon 25 Aug 2025 03:51PM UTC
Comment Actions