One-Punch DxD: NEO - Chapter 78: A Wish to Live
This might be a little too late, but Happy Valentine!
Connla watched them eat. He did not think that they were the kind that needed food to sustain themselves. Nor were they the kind to indulge in their appetite.
Within one of the restaurants, called The Smith, Connla watched the twelve engorging themselves in a grand feast.
Many eyes were on them as they enjoyed themselves with their seemingly bottomless appetite. Crumbs of meat stained the tablecloth, wine splotched the white dirty, and oils greased their hands.
“Bahahahahahahaha!” The extremely obese man clapped his greasy hands with mirth, “Bring me ten more lobsters! And a mountain of clams!”
His white shirt could barely contain his stomach, the human form of Ciratto, eyes covered by the locks of his grease-stained brown hair.
There was a waiter giving Connla the dirty eyes. Connla slowly took out a wad of American dollars and handed it to the waiter… both as tip and advance payment for the trouble.
The waiter immediately walked away to inform the kitchen about their newest orders. Among them was a fiery, blazing haired woman, combed in a wild, flaming streak while wearing casual clothes, slurping on the noodles. The smallest one among them was an impish-looking boy in blue shirts and pants, nibbling on the fried chickens.
“…May I… speak out of turn, Mala-” Connla asked.
“Macoda.” Malacoda reminded.
“Yes, Macoda.”
It was a lazy reiteration of Malacoda’s name. He was a man with white hair streaked in the pattern of goat horns, a skull tattoo on his forehead, wearing bone-white clothes.
A… very human reflection of the demon-goat lich thing.
“You may speak your mind.” Draghignazzo, or Dranaz, allowed.
He was a fit human in a black T-Shirt with a picture of a mighty dragon on it. His face… it was oddly a human reflection of his true form, very dragonlike.
“…Can you actually get full?” Connla asked.
“No.” Cagnazzo, or Gnazzo, answered. He looked a bit savage, a thin almost emaciated man with a face in constant anger.
“…How long are we going to stay here?” Connla asked.
“Until our cravings subside, foolish boy.” Alichino giggled. He was still wearing that damnable smiling clown-like demon mask in his human form. He was even wearing the attire of a clown.
“Besides, you should call us your Masters. Since we are training you to become the ultimate warriors you dreamed of.” Calcabrina, the largest of the ‘humans’… his arms and legs were like the size of tree trunks, the size of his bulging muscles were almost inhuman.
“I… understand, but…”
“…And the sideshow entertainment is about to start.” Scarmaglione was an old hunchback man, eating a large piece of dried pork with his hands.
Connla grimaced as they looked out the window. There were explosions throughout the streets of New York, Manhattan.
Light spheres rained down on the cars, destroying the stores of the restaurant they were in was on a direct road to City Hall, the mayoral seat of New York. The shockwaves from the explosions shattered the windows, prompting the rest of the patrons and staff into panic mode – some of them attempting to run away, while the others scrambled to find cover to hide in.
Connla and his twelve charges, however, remained on their seats albeit the former was not as comfortable as the latter. They just continued eating nonchalantly as they heard shouts.
“Wake up, sheeple! Boys and girls of all fucking colors and bullshit motherfuckers, make way for the new motherfucking messiahs of America! THE PROUD BOOOOYZZZ!”
The Proud Boyz – as they called themselves, was a modern Neo-Fascist movement which recently started operating in the States. They were clad in simple casual clothes – trousers, jeans, T-shirts, jackets, hoodies, sneakers etc. They did not have much sense of uniformity, but the fact they were standing side-by-side together, manic expressions on their faces, as well as strange powers which allowed them to blow things up, were enough to tell they were part of the so-called Proud Boyz.
“For too long, the American founders lied to us! Since the day the colonists landed on soil, God is dead! This land is unblessed, born from Washington’s desire to be a fucking landlord! No more will this land be a place of refuge for losers, we are gonna make this country great again!”
One of the leaders glowed with power, aiming his hand at the streets and fired a burst of divine power, rupturing the concrete with explosions, streetlights collapsing as some of the others fired at buildings.
They were all drunk on power, high on power.
“So we’re gonna do this right and make way for the REAL GOD of this world and bless America our way! HIS WAY! We are his fucking Jesus to your Nazara! No more immigrants, no more negroes, and no more fucking Asians! Just us patriots who know what’s really going on!”
It was said that to test a man’s character, give him power. For their true colors shine when they stand in a position where they could not be punished.
Red sirens and police cars drove to the scene, but they were immediately destroyed via blasts of eldritch energy, reduced to metal scrap, smoke, and fire, trapping the corpses within. Curses and screams erupted from the witnesses. There were some recording the scene on their phones.
A few straggling enforcers of the law took potshots at them, but the bullets bounced off their skin like rubber.
“There ain’t no angel here to save your asses! Your false corpse God ain’t here to hear your prayers!”
They all aimed their hands ahead at the mayoral office building, City Hall.
“May GOD bless the Proud Boyz of our New America!”
Connla watched them fire upon the mayoral office with impunity, not caring that they would murder hundreds of innocents in their ‘social justice movement.’
However, dropping from the skies were two large spear-like pylons on each side of the street.
The spears extended, showing the interconnected lattice of circuits flaring to life. A sheet of light connected them, a wall of force reflecting the barrage of energy, catching the attackers unprepared as they howled from the force of their own attacks fired back at them.
Connla watched with interest at the new development – as the panic died down within the streets from the reversal of roles.
From the sky, another object landed before the group. Followed by another, and a third, their landing indenting the concrete floor.
“…What the fuck?”
The gang was baffled.
The objects that landed were humans, or at least humanoid. They were sleek, dark blue armor, but the design was… too alien. It did not look like each of them was crafted by human hands and machines in a top secret government facility.
The armor was sleek, smooth curves as if it was sculpted by the hands of nature judging by the natural design, dark blue lustrous metal covering polymer-lattices, their helmets not sharing the same design.
They were not sure if the armor was made of some organic material or metal at first glance, it looked like something made by artists, no signs of absolute symmetry and sharp angles.
They rose from their knees, now standing over the guffawing terrorists.
“…Listen up, boys.” The one at the vanguard spoke to them. “By the authority invested in me from the President of the United States, you are under arrest for assault, damaging public property, reckless murder, acts of terrorism, and so forth. You have the right to remain silent; everything you say can, and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right for an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as we read them to you?”
“…What kind of Iron Man Robo Coppers role-playing bullshit are you trying to pull!?” The leader replied before he threw an energy sphere at him.
The man drew a baton from his hip and smashed it into dissipating particles, causing the hoodlums to stare at the man dumbfounded.
“You have assaulted a legal officer of the newly formed international organization, Pandora’s Aegis. From now on, lethal force is authorized.”
They lowered their poise and entered a stance.
From the dorsal of their left arms, the armor formed a round shield of light as the other two drew their batons, each now crackling with an electric current.
“This… Oh, hell no! Blast these fuckers to kingdom come!”
They all immediately rose to their feet and charged their energy attacks in their palms.
However, the soldiers moved fast. Despite the hoodlums being endowed with enough power to take on a high-class Devil, each of the armored soldiers swiftly pierced the distance and bypassed their kill range.
The moment they weaved into their formation, they sealed their option to use energy attacks, since they would risk severe friendly fire casualties in such close range.
Each baton strike hummed with a crisp electric impact, striking the chin, neck, and temple in sequence from man to man.
Connla noted that their movements were too militaristic – mixed martial arts refined solely for humans. Effective against normal humans but useless in a superhuman brawl.
Each of their helmets were different.
One of them had an X-visor of crystal matter, the second had a T-visor, the third a simple O visor.
“Eat this!”
One of the terrorist hoodlums punched the one with the X-visor in the face and discharged a great deal of raw power point blank, engulfing the soldier in an exploding radiance.
He grinned, only for the said grin to fall when the armored-man grabbed his throat and lifted him in the air with unnatural ease, the smoke fading to reveal that there was barely a nick on his visor.
“…That tickled.” The man stated before he threw his screaming form at a cluster, human bodies knocked down and up like bowling pins.
Connla widened his eyes, thoroughly impressed, “…How did you know that this would happen?” He accused more than asked the demons who were still eating while watching the show.
“Telling would spoil the fun.” The child in blue giggled with mischief.
They were strong, too strong to be human. Connla would have heard of such exceptional warriors in the supernatural world. Yet their use of modern dialect was too human for them to be any other race.
They used their shields to reflect the energy attacks back at them and use their batons to attack, bashing them all bloody with military finesse.
One of the terrorists flew in their direction, rolling beside Connla’s chair, battered bruised and blue, swelling from his left eye.
The three soldiers stood over groaning bodies, all of the terrorists writhing in their stewing defeat.
Their visors were undone, the glass sliding away to reveal three Human faces. One of them was Caucasian, the other two African American.
“You… You fucking nigger!” The one closest to the twelve’s table cursed with the forbidden word as he got up and aimed a hand at the twelve.
“Don’t take a step closer, government dogs! I’m not gonna be taken in by some knockoff War Machine! One step and I will kill them! I will fucking kill them with the power of GOD!”
It immediately turned into a hostage situation. Although Connla honestly could not believe how terrible this man’s luck was to pick the table hosting the most dangerous beings in this world as his target.
If only he knew…
“Hoh?” The fiery orange-red haired woman snarked. “Someone’s little wee wee feels small today.”
“…What did you say, bitch?!” The man turned to the woman, ensnared by her provocation, her attack on his masculinity.
“Mmmm, I see a man with a serious erectile dysfunction. I wonder how many were disappointed when it… comes down to it.”
Her words snapped something within the man.
“You-”
Bang!
Before he could utter another word, a new hole opened his head, blood and gray matter escaping through the side of his skull.
The African American held a smoking pistol, alien make, sculpted out of organic-themed metal, the barrel fresh hot. He holstered the weapon with a sigh.
“…Apologies for the disturbance, ladies and gents.” The same soldier nodded with a polite tone and a small smile on his face.
Connla only stared at Libicocco. Since when did she learn how to speak American so fluently and with such ingenuity? He was with her all this time watching them as their escort and yet…
“You folks alright?”
Connla blinked and noticed that the soldier with the X-visor checked in the building. The other two were busy knocking the others out and cuffing them with handcuffs made from the same alien material. He could sense that the aura of the terrorists were dimmed severely the moment their wrists were bound together.
“Yeah… we’re unharmed.” Connla decided to answer in English.
The soldier looked around. His eyes were glued to the twelve, all of them still eating amidst the chaos, “…You people seem to be having a good time. You look like you’re at a movie theater watching an action flick.”
“Ahahahaha!” Ciriatto banged his stomach with mirth. “We are tourists! America is a fun place!”
“The live action stunt was amazing. Direct interaction 3D as they say?” Graffiacane asked.
This one was a human with a strange bulbous-shaped head and noodle-like long arms. This one’s power was not as impactful as the others, but it was designed for the sake of cruelty.
Scarmiglione’s power was to mutate the vessel to greater heights to accommodate the increase in power of Libicocco, albeit it was a painful risky process, forced leveling and evolution with great cost that could cripple the user.
Grafficane’s power was to literally enslave the souls of those the user defeats or kills and binds them to the wielder permanently.
Demons were extremely difficult to kill as their souls were not bound to Heaven or Hell, and they could revive themselves in a period of time.
It was through this power that Lucifer bound the souls of the Demons he found and killed to use against the Tribes. The wielder can also draw power from those enslaved or sacrifice them, make them take the damage or use them for sacrificial rituals.
“…I see. So you’re tourists?” The soldier sounded relaxed.
“We are not from around here. Your Hollywood movies are more extreme than I thought to spend this much for ‘special effects.'” Barbariccia was an african american adonis, another odd one at the table.
Still, Connla had absolutely no idea how the Malebranche pulled off the modern human tongue so well. They were adapting a bit too fast for his tastes.
He wondered if Farfarello was cheating and feeding them American speech in their binge eating.
“I doubt Hollywood deserves that much credit.” the super-soldier retorted with small amusement.
“Hey, Johnson, grab that body and get your ass back here! We’re not rounding up these assholes alone!” the soldier’s comrades called out from outside the building.
“Alright, don’t tighten your sphincter too much!” The soldier – Johnson, then returned to address Connla and the Twelve, “Tell the owners that the Government will pay for the damages for us, will you?”
He grabbed the corpse and hoisted him over his shoulder and exited the restaurant through the window.
The ‘tourists’ then watched the armored-soldiers regrouping and rounding up the terrorists, bunching them together in the streets in handcuffs. They tried to call upon the power of GOD and free themselves judging by their struggles, but their power was blatantly sealed by magical and scientific means.
Some attempted to run away, almost tripping. The soldiers immediately caught up to them and smashed or shot their legs. The spectators winced at the brutality as they dragged the terrorists into the center.
The soldiers moved and formed a perimeter around their prisoners, the three equidistant from each other.
“HQ, we got the package. Perimeter is established for pickup.” Johnson placed a finger on his ear and called.
From their feet, arcs of energy trailed and connected to the feet of the other two simultaneously, forming a ring around the prisoners.
The formation reminded Connla of the teleportation circles the Devils like to use to transport themselves for some reason… and his hunch was proven correct when the soldiers teleported away with their prisoners.
The spectators were now speaking American lingo, commenting on how they vanished, those who witnessed such profound miracles of magic… and science for the first time.
Connla started a telepathic transmission back to his comrades back home, “…Cao Cao, are you there?”
[Yes, what is it, Connla? Are those twelve becoming too much for you? Should I send back up?]
“No, no, those twelve have been behaving, surprisingly speaking.” Connla replied to his leader, “However, something interesting came up, I’d like to talk to everyone about this once we return.”
Back to the lab of Ajuka Astaroth – the room where Sona and Tsubasa were put in suspended-animation; the rest of the peerage, along with Rias and others, were still waiting and milling around in a tense and somber atmosphere of the observation room directly connected to the lab.
It had been over an hour since Issei and the leaders went to visit the demons, around the same time when Gabriel returned with the badly-injured Serafall, who attempted to ‘negotiate’ with the demons ahead.
Suffice to say, all of them were worried sick, especially after they saw the state of Serafall when she was brought back in. The demons had once again shown that they had no intentions of building alliance or corporation, they wanted retribution over a grudge from eons ago. How would Issei convince those demons to help, when they were relishing the sight of devil capital in ruins and plague?
They heard the door open, but they saw Saitama walking in with Genos. Those expressions implied that they were not having a good day.
“Mr. Saitama.” Rias was the one to greet the older man, “How are things outside, at the capital?”
The man sighed as he ran his hand over his bald head, “…A complete shitshow, but at least those who evacuated are no longer in the red zone.”
Genos followed suit, “Those who had been exposed to the toxic mist and mutated are being rounded up. We simply don’t have enough secure unoccupied space to hold them currently. Our current focus is to neutralize the mist and deal with the stragglers that might be hiding somewhere, like underground for example.”
“…By the way, where’s Ise?” Saitama then asked.
“…He…” Rias and the others exchanged nervous glances.
“Oh, wait, never mind. What’s he doing?” Saitama asked as he looked out the window.
“…Eh?” Rias and the others were confused.
Saitama pointed out the observation window. Everyone looked outside to see Issei walking towards Tsubasa and Sona.
“Since when did he…?” Saji muttered, baffled by Issei’s sudden return.
“…Did he succeed?” Koneko asked with hope.
“Hey, what are you doing here?! How did you bypass the… Lord Lucifer?! W-We didn’t see you there!” The scientists wearing hazmat suits were shocked to see the strongest Crimson Satan behind the boy that suddenly appeared in the laboratory without warning.
“I thank you all for your hard work.” Sirzechs nodded at the workers. “Using my authority as Satan, I authorize what is about to happen.”
“M-My Lord? I do not… Wait, what is he doing?” The scientist asked when Issei approached the square glass prison containing the girls in ice.
Issei inhaled and exhaled a gout of dragon fire at the container, engulfing them in flames.
“W-WHAT?!”
Back in the observation room, everyone’s eyes widened at Issei’s stunt.
“What the hell is he doing?!” Saji was the first to yell while slamming his palms on the glass, before he quickly bolted out of the room, followed by the rest of Sona’s peerage.
“Ise…” Rias muttered worriedly before she and the others followed suit, going out of the room.
Back to the workshop, the scientists were in panic – some were busy protecting the equipment from the sheer heat of Issei’s flame, while the others were not sure whether to step in when Sirzechs held his hand out, silently telling them to do nothing but watch the ice encasing their patients melting down.
Both Sona and Tsubasa’s bodies fell to the ground as soon as the ice holding them was nothing more than a puddle of water on the floor. Then, the mutation that was halted by the extreme cold temperature began to continue its work. Necrosis started to grow on their pale skin, their expressions were suddenly contorted at the sudden pain, and their bodies began to convulse.
Issei walked up to them as they began to have difficulty breathing, and inhaled.
We demons can also ‘fall’ like angels do, when under extremes.
He pressed his fingers on their foreheads.
Those that fell are called Fiends. It is not like the Chimera state that the Devils enter when they become feral. The Chimera state is nothing more than a warped fusion of Lucifer’s corruption and their inner beast taking form, infected with a hunger for power and soon, human flesh. Then Devil flesh. Then for the suffering of all that is good.
He closed his eyes and focused.
When we fall, we are consumed by the extreme emotions and anguish, becoming a warped reflection of our Demonic Awakening. Berserk. Usually, those that failed to achieve this become Fiends as a byproduct, too weak to handle the backlash of emotions. But they can be saved. We pull them out of their inner turmoil through intense meditations and secret techniques. Despite their rampage, they are still there, unable to control their actions.
How is this relevant?
The disease… it uses the Devils’ tendency to mutate and go berserk against them, infecting their being and usurping their control through this flaw. They are in a corrupted Chimeric state, their actions controlled by a confused child in perpetual anguish, desperate to live.
…And?
You don’t actually need to cure them to save them. The flesh doesn’t matter ultimately in the end. You just need to preserve their sense of self. In other words…
“Don’t worry.” Issei spoke to both Sona and Tsubasa as they went into seizure. “…I will save you no matter what.”
You just need to save their minds and souls. And bring the creature peace.
Can’t you save them with your overpowered Wish Magic?
Yes. But there is more importance in saving those you love with your own hands, Issei. As proven in history, one cannot just simply rely on a higher power alone. And the most convenient way brings little in the end. There is little meaning in living that way… I will grant you your wish to save those you love. And there is something you need to see in doing this.
What about the rest? Can’t you revive those that died?
…We’ll handle that. Their souls are neither in heaven or purgatory. They are still stuck in the cancerous flesh, tied to the child that wants to live in Lilith. The disease grips their soul as well as their flesh, thus when relieved of their corporeal vessels, their souls are later tied to the cancerous mass that infects the city. They cannot move onto the afterlife as long as even the tiniest spore of the child remains. Hence, we can revive them… if their minds choose to cling onto life.
Choose?
They are suffering along with the child. The child’s pain is spread to those it infected. If you dally too long, their minds will break. They can still feel the pain of death and destruction of their physical forms.
…I don’t get it… How can… someone as powerful and accomplished as you be so… You tolerate the humans and the Angels yet you won’t give the Devils the same treatment. I know some of the shit Michael pulled and that is probably not the end of it, but don’t think I won’t notice. Why is that?
Once upon a time, there was an exceptional mortal. He was the direct descendant of the Outsider that Pretends to be All, your God… you know who he is.
Issei smiled as he formed a connection in their souls.
He held none of His Father’s flaws and was overflowing with philanthropy and wisdom… He saw our practices and attempted to spread them to mankind, even if it was under His Father’s name. We were determined to make the Pretender suffer, until we met face to face… He is too good for your God. In the end, we were friends… He sacrificed Himself not only for the sins of man, but the sins of the Angels, all of God’s children.
And the Devils?
You do not understand. When you see the Devils, you see hope, friendship, understanding. Love. We are empathetic beings, we feel for the pain of others, kin, more intensely than most of your kind, than the angels. When we see Devils, we see another child born from the product of violation and defilement of someone we know. When we see how they kept worship of Lucifer… We do not see hope, but nihilism, for they do not understand the meaning of their actions… When we see them, we see the scars Lucifer left behind; And their leaders did nothing, but feed on their ignorance… despite the truth being in their eyes. We see a race that fed on the tragedies of others without remorse, that profited and flourished without shame. Hence, we call them a Bastard Race, a race of thieves for they steal from the other humans and their lessers, even in the form of Rating Games. They take and subjugate each other for they do not learn their lessons even with eternal youth in their hands. A race of hypocrites for they fail to understand what it means to hold Lucifer and his concepts in high regard. A race of fools for they delude themselves into constructing thrones of supremacy from sand of false hopes on the backs of the people they’re meant to serve.
…I get it… But still. Why?
You will not understand unless you have those you cherished stripped away by force and feel its loss.
But there’s more to it than that, I can feel it.
…When you go to Kthon… you will know. However, it will scare you. The greatest fear of a just man is seeing evil justified by a greater evil. You will be scared for you knowing this will not save the Devils for that is not your right.
Marching throughout the streets of Lilith, Azazel and Michael followed Philomath, Ermias, and Ersi.
The red mists reached out to them, but the Demons were unfazed by their perilous caress. Michael and Azazel were covered in a special barrier meant to filter out the organic particles of the air.
Many of the infected snarled and hissed at the sight of the Demons but then they collapsed before they could take another step.
They lost consciousness the moment they leaked hostile intent to them.
“…Ermias… I…” Michael spoke out.
“Do not talk to me.” Ermias warned as they continued walking.
Azazel inhaled slowly and breathed out, preparing himself, “Alright… since when were you friends with Jesus?” He asked.
“I am surprised that you didn’t notice until now…” Ermias stated amused with a drastically different tone, a blatant difference in treatment compared to Michael.
“Honestly, we were too busy with the war effort on our side, but how did you slip under Father’s eyes when you met him? I’m pretty sure that Father won’t just let any demon reach out to His Direct Descendant,” Azazel asked.
“You’re right. He came to us.” Ersi answered. “He snuck out under God’s eyes when He approached us. Imagine our surprise when we met face to face, someone eager to learn our ways… And we were originally planning to kill or capture him.”
“Hoh…” Azazel was amazed to hear about Jesus.
“…Don’t you think that it is… about time that you and Michael talk?” Azazel asked, hoping to broach this topic without conflict.
“I would rather cut out his tongue, fashion it into a dagger and slit his throat with it. Do I need to say how I felt when I saw him the first time, shouting nonsense about glory, calling us vile, evil things despite us doing him no wrong as he pierced his sword through one of my father’s hearts? Speaking justice when he murdered my mother before my eyes and then so many others that stayed behind to hold off his madness? And cut down so many of my friends, family, my people, and said it was in the right?! For the GREATER GOOD?! For thousands of years?!”
Ermias turned to Azazel with a face contorted with boundless rage, his crown of horns ignited with black flames as his orange eyes glew with spite.
“…He perverted the very concept of justice with his first word, a direct insult to sanity and all that is good. It was at that moment that I considered him God’s greatest mistake. And it took him too long to see it. Trust me when I say this, we are past talking. Too many years past that line, too many corpses and souls you sent to Oblivion. You may have fooled the current generation, but I know what you were. I will never forgive you. Not in a thousand lifetimes for your crimes. So don’t bother trying to mend old wounds when it no longer matters. Even Wish Magic has limits.”
His words silenced Azazel as he turned forward, resuming his march to the heart of Lilith, the very center.
“…Here.” Ermias stopped.
There was a growing pustule within the center, the plaza covered in red, pulsating meat oozing unknown fluids, writhing with life.
“The child is trying to revive himself. It has the Trihexa’s unreasonable drive to cling to life. It will do anything to cling to life.”
“…How are you going to do this?” Azazel asked.
“Watch closely.”
Ermias snapped his fingers.
In that moment, the infectious mist covering all of Lilith vanished. The remaining cancerous mass writhed and thrashed with confusion as the Demon Lord stepped forward.
XoX
Meanwhile, Issei woke up in the soul realm.
A pure white space with the taint of biohazardous material spreading through it. He saw Sona and Tsubasa being held within a viscous amalgamation of flesh cocooning each of them.
Each of them was grotesque, skin falling off as new flesh replaced it, only to fall off again.
They stood on their hands, and on the surface of the crimson cocoon of flesh, Issei swore that he saw a warped parody of Sona and Tsubasa, the ugly eyes and features, plus the specks of blue and black hair growing in the wrong places looking at them.
“Okay…. Now how am I doing this?”
Issei thought that he should have asked both Ermias and Ersi to give him some kind of manual.
“Hey, Tsubasa! Sona! Are you there?!” Issei then decided to shout for starters.
They were slowly being pulled deeper inside the cocoon as the misplaced eyes of the fleshy prison landed on Issei. Issei sensed the hostility from the aberrations.
Eyeing both aberrations awkwardly, Issei waved his hands then said, “I, err…. I come in peace?”
Each grew tendrils and lashed out at Issei. Immediately, the flesh started wrapping around him in a similar manner, cocooning him.
However, the creatures shrieked in confusion when the intruder… slowly unwrapped himself free from his prison in an awfully casual manner.
“…I heard that you are suffering right now. You can understand me, right?”
There was silence from the creatures imprisoning the girls. At the lack of reply, Issei sighed.
“…I’ll take that as a yes… Let them go.”
It shuddered with palpable refusal. Issei had enough and stomped towards them.
He walked up to Tsubasa’s parasite and gripped it. It wailed, it squealed as Issei tried to rip it off…
Issei stopped when the flesh sunk through his dingers like… greasy dough.
Something was wrong.
He did not put a lot of strength into it, yet the section of the parasite he grabbed broke off too easily.
Then each of the parasite abominations squealed and tried to swat Issei with their tentacles.
It was the first time he saw his attackers… break themselves apart with each attack, the tentacles reduced into sludge on impact.
It can no longer live by itself. Yet it wants to live more than anything.
Those were the words Philomath said… Issei took the words at surface value when he heard it.
But to see what he meant in this context…
It literally would die if it let them go. He did not expect to see it be this desperate, at the cusp of falling apart completely and utterly yet… it still clung onto life.
It was struggling this hard to maintain itself using others.
It just wanted to live despite the cursed circumstances of its birth.
“…Please, let them go.” Issei pleaded. He no longer wished to destroy it…
It squealed in denial. It was never a malicious thing that wanted to kill everything by nature. It was a scared and confused child, literally, that had no idea what it’s doing… cursed by the circumstances of its birth.
With a profound sadness that Issei refused to see until now.
Issei saw that now.
“…I know it is scary… but you have to let go.”
Issei approached the creature. It shuddered when he entered their proximity.
It was wary of him, yet they didn’t react since he showed no hostility.
“…I know someone like you, you know?”
The parasites shrilled in confusion.
“He entered the life of a friend I know. He… well, ironically, came into existence by accident. When we first met, honestly, he scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t sure how to handle him, and he looked like he would eat me if I said or did something wrong.”
Issei could feel the creature giving him its attention.
He was not sure if he was speaking to the creature as a whole via hive mind technique or something but he hoped he could get to it.
“We weren’t sure what he was until it was too late… he is not exactly like you. He is… well, healthy and independent. He is one of the toughest guys I ever met.”
There was a growl of envy.
“But he is also like you… cursed. The ones who made you… they did terrible things to him. All he wanted was to live in peace… yet they want what he has, his abilities. They made you because they want what your parents have, possibly more. Yet, in their cruelty, they threw you away just like that… I’m sorry for not seeing what you’re going through. I’m sorry that you have to go through this. I won’t make the same mistake like I did with him.”
Kiyome told him about Stjarna… the one who now held the name Djall.
The creature trembled with ire at the mention of its creator, then cooed upon feeling Issei’s sincerity in his apology. Issei could feel its emotions and intent more tangibly after his reintegration with his other half.
“…I want to help you.” Issei stared at them in the eyes. “But I can’t… we can’t if you don’t let us… If you’re what I think you are, you should see them. You need to let go of everyone.”
The creature gurgled, scared.
“I understand that you don’t want to die… you have the same tenacity as him, you know?” Issei scoffed. “Even when he was tortured by his father, he still held on strong. He sacrificed himself to save us, even though we failed to save him… Please. Let us save you.”
The parasites and Issei stared at each other with a silent tension. The parasites looked like they were scared, misshapen eyes quivering with uncertainty…
Then its flesh melted off, releasing Tsubasa and Sona.
from its clutches. Issei then promptly stepped forward and caught their bodies in each arm. He knelt to settle them softly on the ground – if whatever the place he was in actually had one, before he returned to stare at what remained of the creature.
“…If you see them… the ones waiting… They will help you. Trust them. They can do practically anything, honestly.” Referring to the Demon Lords, Issei nodded as the parasites… melted away. He could feel the parasites… no, the child’s trust in him.
The two avatars of the child closed its melting eyes, fading away as it died off. Then, Issei’s vision was engulfed in a bright white light that enveloped the space around him.
Back in Lilith, the mutated mass of flesh littering the town melted away.
The mutant creatures running into the large barrier surrounding Lilith, banging on the magical wall stopped as they fell on their knees to the confusion of the Devil mages responsible for the mass quarantine.
Each and every one of the infected started to vomit an unknown, putrefying substance as the mutations of the infected… slowly reverted to their original forms. The cancerous mass covering the buildings stopped, liquifying into sludge, organic fluids flowing down the walls of the building and into the drains, crimson streams trickling down the stone.
The plants spawned by Garou – that once covered Lilith was gone, devoured by the creature to sustain itself.
The cocoon at the center of Lilith exploded in a bloody rupture to Azazel’s and Michael’s surprise, the sight of the biohazard scenario dying off.
“…Is this your work?” Azazel asked, seeing the damage melting away literally with awe.
“No.” Ermias shook his head – albeit there was a small smirk gracing his lips, as Michael stared at what lay at the center.
It was barely breathing, the thing housed inside the cocoon. It was small… deformed child. His arms were malformed, only one working eye.
It did not even have skin, red muscles exposed to the outside air. Its chest rose and fell, its struggle to maintain breath apparent… it was dying.
It turned to them… reaching out with its half melted hand.
“…What is this?” Michael asked, overwhelmed by the sadness of the sight. He expected another monster… but this…
He could feel its plea for aid. He could feel its suffering…
“You have much to learn if you continue to judge by appearance, Murderer.” Ersi sneered at Michael as he approached the skinless child.
The child looked at the horned man clad in spectral white effigies, red eyes gazing into his only working eye, its vision slowly blurring as his life fades.
As soon as the man knelt down and took its hand, the child could not hold on.
The darkness claimed the child… but death did not.
Ersi smiled as he picked the child up, and turned around.
Azazel and Michael stared at the spectral form of the child… a human-like boy, sleeping comfortably in his arms, the spirit.
He was no longer malformed, beautiful even.
They watched Ersi return to the Demon Lords and nodded to them, Philomath and Ermias nodding back.
With the child, they walked away from the scene, leaving the stunned angels behind.
XoX
When Issei opened his eyes again, he was back in Ajuka’s workshop. He blinked and found himself sitting on the floor, hugging both Sona and Tsubasa in his arms. He stared at the two girls’ condition. He could hear their breathing, their skin was healthy, their expressions were peaceful as they slept without care.
[ISE/TSUBASA/SONA/PRESIDENT!]
“Whoa!” The next second Issei was overwhelmed by several bodies jumping at him from behind.
Bodies were tangled, and the first thing Issei saw was Saji’s face that was a complete mess of tears and snots.
“Hyoudou, you crazy son of a bitch! You did it! You fucking did it!”
Issei blinked several times as Saji was squeezing the life out of him by hugging his neck. “Hey, hey, Saji, dude! I’m pretty sure both Sona and Tsubasa would love some space.”
The others, particularly members of Sona’s peerage, were also a sobbing mess, but they slowly backed off to watch Sona and Tsubasa slowly open their eyes.
“Where… What happened?”
“I…Ise…? Everyone…?”
The scientists – upon Sirzechs orders, have arrived with large white sheets to cover Sona and Tsubasa’s modesty, with Rias and Tsubaki dutifully wrapped the fabric around them. Sona and Tsubasa seemed still capable of recognizing everyone, but they still looked very tired as well.
“Everything’s okay, just… Just rest up, we’ll fill you in later.” Issei soothed as he subconsciously ran his hand through Tsubasa’s blue locks.
Sona and Tsubasa simply hummed before they fell asleep again. Soon, everyone was instructed to make ways for the para-medics to run a few more tests to ascertain the girls’ conditions.
XoX
Tsubasa and Sona sipped their tea within Lilith’s hospital. Everyone else – with Serafall included, were sitting around their beds. The older Sitri herself was peeling apples in content for her little sister to eat.
“…I didn’t think you would save us this way.” Tsubasa smiled with a hint of amusement and fondness at Issei, who had debriefed them of how everything had turned out.
The fondness part was quite obvious – but the amusement was shared with the others. As soon as Serafall got the wind of Sona’s recovery and who was responsible, Issei suddenly found himself being caught in a bear-hug with his face being smothered by kisses of gratitude.
“…Yeah… they could’ve just… solved everything with just a snap of their fingers, as broken as it sounds…” Issei smiled back, which looked funny considering several of Serafall’s lipstick marks covering most of his face.
However, his smile fell as he remembered that moment, the trust of a dying… friend…
Yes… Issei was its first friend since it was made.
“…I underestimated them. In more ways than one.” Issei continued. “…When they told me about the thing Euclid dropped, I… I didn’t take it seriously. I took everything at face value of what we are dealing with.”
Everyone remained silent.
“…They meant it. All of it. They knew what it was going through… they said it in my face and I didn’t bat an eye. So they showed it to me through direct interaction with it. I was expecting a mindless beast or some kind of… villain wanting revenge for being made this way… but… it was just another victim. It was a scared child literally discarded by its parents. I finally understood what that meant when it let you all go and placed its trust in me… I…” Issei inhaled to steady himself.
“…A part of me felt like shit when I realized how much I overlook things in context. Even as I overlook myself…” Issei stared at his hand before he clenched it into a fist. “…It took a literal slugfest with my inner self to show me how far I am from my ideal. How much room I have to grow as a person…”
Serafall felt the words ringing through her more than most when she recalled her inner self.
“…They know how to act the wise sages Azazel claimed them to be. Even though they can be assholes.” Issei nodded to himself. “…I am going to uphold my end of the bargain. I’m on a due trip to their homeworld, Kthon I believe. They want to show me their livelihoods and culture, probably as a long-winded plan to complete their goal to kill the Devils or something else. Don’t know how though.”
“…Are you going to their homeworld alone?” Rias asked.
“Probably not alone. Don’t have a set date though. I want to stay around long enough to be in the Rating Games at least.” Issei smirked.
“…Not sure if I should say anything…”
Everyone turned to the entrance, seeing Saitama standing by the door with a gift basket in hand. Genos was with him.
“Indeed. I am against you making reckless pacts with supernatural entities with unknown powers and abilities. Especially with someone that can grant wishes.” Genos stated.
Issei felt like a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, only a bit worse, considering it was his father and strict uncle he was talking to. In the end, he could only come clean, “…Sorry, it was… the only best possible deal I can strike with them without escalating stuff.”
“Still not sure about that. Genos told me a bit about how the bloodline thing works… It sounded like some guy trying to steal my son from under me or something through forced adoption.” Saitama gave his input.
“Haha… It almost feels that way in a sense.” Issei understood the point with a nervous laugh.
“…So, tell me. What are you now? Human or demon?” Tsubasa asked.
Issei paused in contemplation. His lips slowly curled into an impish smile.
“…At this point? Call me whatever you want. Labels don’t define me anymore. After all, I’m a literal patchwork mess right here.” Issei opened his arms, his face did not show any sign that he was bothered by that. “Besides, dad is definitely not human. He can pull himself out of black holes, for crying out loud.”
Saitama only pouted, unable to argue back.
“Back to the current topic – you still should’ve told us about this agreement you made with the Demons.” Genos stepped in.
“Sorry.” Issei could only reply with that word first, “…We’re kind of racing against time back there.”
Saitama sighed, running his hand on his head, “…Anyway, now what? Actually, why don’t I go? If I’m not mistaken, those demons want me too.”
“Two reasons.” Issei held up two fingers, “One – if you’re not here, they might do something funny, like, fucked up kind of funny, and none of us want that to fly. It is kind of a running theme nowadays. Two, you’re the only guy that can take on the Final Boss if he decides to show up out of nowhere. Now that I think about it – Dad… why can’t you teleport?” Issei asked.
Everyone processed this question.
Throughout the fight… despite Saitama demonstrating the ability to copy techniques as well… they had never seen the baldy teleport, other than moving at superhuman speeds.
They turned to stare at the man in question, who folded his arms and closed his eyes, wanting to hear his answer.
It made them wonder… Why can’t Saitama teleport when he can pull himself out of a Black Hole?
Saitama hummed, as if contemplating for answers. Then, he simply replied, “…Because I don’t really get it.”
“Didn’t you punch your way out of Oblivion or something?” Rias pointed out.
“Oh, that place. Uuggghhh.” Saitama shuddered. “Honestly, I still don’t like that place. It only worked because I wanted out, and that trick Garou used to send me there is a one way trip back. That trick with the door has, like, two destinations, two sides of a door. Teleportation is a bit… ehhhhhh… different. I just can’t get it. I can’t even pull off that portal gate thing.”
Everyone stared at Saitama, unsure how to receive his own view on his limitations.
“Alright… What about Ophis?” Issei pointed out. “Assuming that they aren’t strong enough to take her down… Are they?”
“Are they?” Serafall asked back.
Everyone turned back to Issei since he had the most experience with the Demons and their overpowered techniques and abilities.
“…They have someone that can use Wish Magic… Can Ophis pull off anything like that with her OP infinite powers or something?” Issei asked.
“I… don’t know. Maybe? Saitama-chan said that she has no technique or combat experience, but….” Serafall pursed her lips. “I’m not sure about the Great Red since his ability is at par with Wish Magic…”
“Then their skill level matches the top two in terms of power level. Probably more… damn wish magic. Alright, I guess Uncle Genos can come with me. Maybe a representative of the Devils for diplomatic reasons… but who, though?”
“I can go in that case. Chief of Foreign Affairs, remember?” Serafall raised her hand up.
“You have everything settled with the other Pantheons? I remember that some of them were in Lilith for the new Rating Games when Euclid went Call of The Cthulhu.” Issei pointed out.
Serafall blinked before her expression turned into a frown. She had a handful of capable staff, but leaving them behind to deal with Asgard, Mount Olympus, and god-knows how many more Pantheon representatives, who might or might not get caught in the recent disasters? She could not afford to leave her post anytime soon.
Sona held up her hand, “I can go-”
“Nun-uh.”
“Nope.”
“Not happening.”
Sona blinked at the sudden chorus of negative answers, “Why? I’m the younger sister of the Chief of Foreign Affairs. I may be inexperienced, but I can at least serve as a stand-in.”
“Yeah? And who’s gonna oversee your Rating Game school construction?” Issei shot back, “Not to mention, after what you’ve gone through a few hours ago? I think everyone here agrees that you need some time off.”
“But…” She pouted when everyone nodded their heads.
“I can go.” Rias raised her hand. “I am the sister of Lucifer. I can be the intermediary. And hopefully they can tolerate me enough not to harm a hair on me.”
“Um, I don’t think Sirzechs will agree to that, Rias.” Serafall argued. “He’s already having his Queen being accused for being accessory of bio-terrorism, I don’t think he wants his sister to go to some faraway land.”
“Yeah, and no offense, Rias. Aren’t there supposed to be more… Experienced candidate or something?” Issei countered.
Rias pouted but she sighed, “I understand your reasoning, but… I believe it’d be for the best if you are accompanied with more familiar faces. Besides, I don’t know what those demons really plan for us; but our endgame is to build an amicable relationship with them. There might be more experienced high-class devils to represent us, but…. Considering that the demons have been holding grudges since thousands of years ago… I think someone younger and more unrelated to past events is a safer option.”
Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances, before Serafall sighed, “In any case, we still need to let Sirzechs and other leaders know about these ideas. Let’s meet them, and… I think Sona and Tsubasa-chan need to rest.” She smiled at Sona – who on rare occasions, returned the gesture in kind.
When everybody filled out the room, Sona called, “Ise.”
The boy turned to regard her – and both girls on the hospital bed were smiling at him. “Once again, for your help – the Sitri clan is forever in your debt.”
Issei gave a small scoff and easy smile, “…Just get better and stay safe until everything blows over, then we can probably talk about debt.”
He regarded Tsubasa for a bit longer before he finally walked out of the room.
Nidhogg heaved for breath as he ran through the halls of the hidden fortress.
When he joined Khaos Brigade, he was promised power and battle.
The power of the Trihexa was something he enjoyed, giving him greater strength and more possibilities.
He never expected that within his lifetime, he would be treated as prey.
Never in his life did he know a fear more primal than the thought of facing Crom Cruach face to face.
This… Abomination who he was currently running away from – at first, Nidhogg already felt that there was something wrong with it simply standing there before him, when they were first introduced to one another. He did not think much about it, aside from its appetite that surpassed the likes of him, who was once infamous for gnawing and chewing the roots of The World Tree.
Until one day, the abomination set its eyes and bore its fangs towards his dragon compatriots… Not to mention their current benefactor insisted they humor that creature, saying something about testing its strength against Evil Dragons.
Grendel – that dumb crazy dragon, relish the entire experience despite losing the earliest; the abomination feasted upon the Crime Force Dragon… whom laughed despite torture he was put through.
Nidhogg once resisted – valiantly, if he said so himself…. Only to realize that resistance was futile for it tore him apart so fast.
He, a giant dragon of great renown, flew through the halls, nearly crashing into the magically fortified walls of intricate circuit lines and embossing elegant patterns at a sharp turn as he pushed himself to the next perpendicular direction.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!
Nidhogg shuddered at the sound. Being eaten twice was more than enough.
He stopped as his Trihexa-attuned instincts flared with alarm. He ducked down as the floor in front of him erupted as twin mandibles of fangs jumped over his head like a shark jumping out the waters for landwalker flesh.
That thing just would not stop growing bigger and bigger.
“L-Leave me alone!” Nidhogg shouted as he flew past the thing’s body. It was still going, the rest of its ridiculous serpentine length disappearing into the Qliphoth ceiling.
“Why are you always aiming for me?! WHY?!” Nidhogg shouted as he ran deeper and deeper.
The others already fled the moment they heard its shrieks. They knew better than to get in its way lest they risk becoming its menu, many were eaten in response.
“RIZEVIM! I know you’re watching this! Call him off! CALL HIM OFF!” Nidhogg shouted while panting.
There was a crackle in the air, the speakers coming online.
[…Djall. I command you. Please return to the dining table. I understand that you have a voracious appetite but please reconsider eating our allies.]
There was a loud, rhythmic shrill in the halls.
“I like the taste of warm blood in my teeth.” Djall’s voice echoed through the halls, a more monstrous version of his human voice.
[Why not eat at the table where your prey is served to you? You don’t mind cooked food.] Rizevim called out.
“I like hunting… And watching my food run for their lives.”
[Sadistic, but unbecoming of a noble.]
“Excessive comfort is for the weak.”
Nidhogg continued running, yet despite the distance he was making, the voice of the predator still rang in his ears so closely.
A glint flashed at the edge of his sight.
Sharp agony followed, blood and organs spilling from the underside of his lindwyrm body. His roars echoed through the halls as his lifeblood flowed into a pool.
Nidhogg could not see it coming. He looked back, hearing chewing sounds.
His entrails were behind him, barely contained.
Something…
He could not mistake that scent. It was the same creature that was hunting him, but more… compact.
He was smaller, taller than a human yet smaller than a giant.
Imbricated, metal-like black armor glistening with a lustrous sheen, standing on digitigrade legs, three eyes, a hexagram for the third eye, sigma symbols tattooed on the pupils of the other two.
Monstrous, predatory, his true nature given form as Djall chewed on Nidhogg’s entrails that fell out of his stomach, held by the thing’s metallic claws – a vicious, humanoid form designed to butcher and devour.
A large mass busted through the ceiling.
On the other side was his hunter’s larger serpentine form, blocking the evil dragon’s only escape.
There were two Djalls blocking his path.
[…Oh my.]
Even Rizevim sounded surprised.
Nidhogg was speechless. So that was how Djall overcame the bait.
He was a cunning, ever evolving predator. Nidhogg understood why Rizevim went through so much just to contain and control this creature of limitless potential.
The serpentine form was much larger than the one that was captured before. He had three crimson tipped horns instead of one now, the creature opened its mandibles and shooting a stream of fluids.
Stuck like a fly to a spider’s webs, Nidhogg thrashed, but his efforts only entangled him further in the webbing. He unleashed his signature miasma from every inch of his pores, but his prized miasma did not do much against the silky thread enveloping him.
The serpentine wyrm threw him to the wall, cocooned and bound.
Stuck.
“P-Please! Don’t do this! Mercy!”
The smaller humanoid version approached Nidhogg.
“…Legends don’t beg.”
His right arm turned into a sharp, sickle, glistening with a sharpness so keen that Nidhogg could feel the blade without it touching him.
The smaller one leapt and sunk his hook into Nidhogg, through the silk, through the scales and hide of his enhanced flesh like it was nothing.
From under Nidhogg’s neck, Djall pulled down.
He unzipped Nidhogg down the middle. It was the first time Nidhogg saw all of his organs spill out at once, still steaming hot, smoking.
It was so sudden that Nidhogg could not feel it. And it scared him.
He had never been this scared in centuries.
It scared him even more to see his entrails being eaten in front of him.
The abomination picked up what looked like the sack containing his miasma and bit into it.
Words could not describe the damage to his ego upon seeing the creature chew the poison out of it, fangs of his split jaw mandibles sinking past the epidermis, the organ shrinking smaller and smaller, his most powerful weapon treated as a soft drink.
“Ahhh…” Djall exhaled, sounded refreshed. “Yes, that’s it. Did you know humans butcher their animals in an abattoir? They harvest the organs and sort them for later consumption, sell the animal… as parts. I’ll savor you piece by piece and fully enjoy this.”
If it were not for the powers of the Trihexa, Nidhogg would have died. Though death would’ve been a mercy compared to this.
Confirming the creature’s complete immunity to the source of his strength broke all hope in Nidhogg, his pride as drained as his poison sac.
Djall threw the drained poison sac aside as he went for Nidhogg’s liver, grabbing it from the pile with clicking anticipation.
He stopped midway.
“…Are you here to interrupt my meal… Human?” Djall growled as he turned to the left.
The sensation of disembowelment started to catch up with Nidhogg. It was taking much of his strength to regenerate the lost organs.
A figure emerged from the darkness – a familiar-looking swordsman with silver-white hair, red eyes and a combination of traditional Japanese uniform and clerical clothing.
[Well, well…. Who do we have here…. How did you find this place, Siegfried? I’m pretty sure we’ve covered our tracks since Azazel nearly blew up our base.]
Rizevim’s amused voice echoed in greeting.
“Honestly, the recent commotion is starting to ferment a rebellion in your castle, Rizevim. One of your underlings reached out to us to make a deal for… security reasons… But I didn’t think it was this bad. Since when do you sacrifice your staff to… What is your name?”
“Djall.” Djall answered. His larger serpentine clone hissed at Siegfried.
“…You look nothing like your father.”
“…Is this your attempt at humor?” Djall tilted his head. “Every single word in that sentence pricks my patience and makes me want to butcher you.”
“Moving on, then.” Siegfried dropped the playful tone, raising his hands in mock surrender.
[It’s not like I like seeing my subordinates being pitted against my son, but he just… doesn’t like to sit down at one place for too long and he’s a growing boy. He’s still growing, honestly. But still, I like to see it as a way to motivate my men to do something to evolve themselves under the duress. I mean, Djall keeps evolving each day, so why not us as well? It is something I want to know, the line separating him from us. We have access to the same origin of our powers yet he keeps evolving more and faster than the rest of us, and my research on the Forced Evolution process is hitting a roadblock…]
“How many times must your ‘son’ terrorize your subordinates until you reach your answer?” Siegfried asked with genuine concern.
“They lack instinct.”
Djall’s voice earned Siegfried’s attention.
“…I finally figured it out. Most want easy power because they don’t want to build the instinct to do more than that. A… easy way to gain strength because they are addicted to comfort, a shortcut in a meatball.”
Siegfried hummed, impressed by Djall’s deduction.
[Surely, it can’t be just that.]
Rizevim spoke with a curious tone.
“An excuse for the lazy. When they face a larger, more menacing predator, they cower, for they are what the prey is to its lessers. They do not have the instinct… To grow. Evolution is the forge of the wilds, a reward for those who endure and strive. Take this meatbag for example.” Djall turned to Nidhogg, who was still currently deprived of its organs.
“I hunt him because he has not learned his lesson. Legends state that dragons are the apex predators that dominated the Nine Realms for centuries without question, two of them above all… until now. Does this look like an apex predator to you?”
Nidhogg scowled at the abomination, barely clinging on to consciousness at this point, the darkness creeping dangerously close from the corners of his mind.
[That, and you don’t like standing in one place too long.]
“…Maybe.”
Siegfried scoffed at Djall’s weird persona, an immature child with a developing, sage-like intelligence.
“Rizevim, as someone who also grew up in a test tube, I suggest I offer my own experience in how a child like him should be raised… or else he will turn… maladjusted.” Siegfried suggested.
“…Maladjusted?” Djall tilted his head.
“Do you even know how terrifying you are right now?” Siegfried asked Djall.
“…No. I am enjoying my well-earned meal.”
That ignorance was both endearing and horrifying. Something must be done about it.
“Well, now I am saying it to you. You have the desire of a caged bird, the desire to fly through the skies. More of a vicious hawk, in comparison. What if I tell you that I know a place where you can… move around as you wish, be true to yourself?” Siegfried offered. “A rich place filled with game like never before, a new world teeming with your element, an exciting place where someone like you can thrive. At least long enough to tolerate Rizevim’s noble upbringing.”
Both Djalls hissed at Siegfried at the mention briefly.
“…What is this place?” Djall asked.
“It’s better that I show you. My friends and I practically live there now in a sense to train ourselves. There is even a world turtle there, big enough to hold an island.”
Djall’s long tongue seemingly licked his lips.
“…I’m listening.”
[Interesting… I would like to see this place for myself.]
“Hmph, as if you have the time or energy to get out of this place.” Siegfried shot Rizevim down, “Besides, I’m doing you a favor here. You just need to let him air out every now and then.”
[And how exactly can I do that without the others spotting him? Djall is my son, after all.]
“You just need to know a good place. So?”
The smaller Djall clicked his mandibles in a curious rhythm.
“…Take me there. I’m sick of chewing through metal walls.”
Serafall sighed as she walked out of the shower; drying her damp raven hair with a towel. She walked past the fogging mirror, wiping her hand across the glassy surface, she slightly frowned at her reflection.
However, her muse was interrupted when she heard noises from outside the bathroom, followed by a familiar sensation when she was in the medical bay.
Putting on a bathrobe, Serafall walked out to see Cao Cao sitting by the window of her bed chamber.
“What do you want?” Serafall asked with a mild glare.
The hero descendant simply smiled and shifted his sitting position, “Why, to collect your debt, of course.”
“Debt? I don’t recall you doing jack out there.” Serafall returned with a narrowed look, “Ise ended up doing your job.”
To his credit, Cao Cao looked surprised, albeit a little, “Is that so? I thought it was Saitama’s doing; but no matter, I’m afraid I have to inform you that I, as a matter of fact, have fulfilled my end of the deal.” He showed the back of his hand – where Serafall saw a faded Faustian mark.
“Impossible…!” Serafall could not believe her eyes.
When a contract was made, especially between a man and devil in this case, the involved parties would bear a mark which would compel them to remain faithful to the contract until their end of the deal was either fulfilled or nulled willingly. The mark would fade, albeit not disappear completely, when the bearer had fulfilled their part of the agreement.
“The terms are, upon agreement, the opposing party, which is me, is obligated to serve the recipient’s interests until her wish is granted – Is granted. As in, I don’t have to be the one to do it as long as it is granted. The winning condition on my side is the sense of gratification. Also, I did intend to go through with it in case you couldn’t get through to the stubborn old veterans. Anyways, you haven’t done many pacts nowadays, have you?”
Serafall could only grit her teeth as she clenched her hand before her chest, where a Faustian mark was almost hidden by her bathrobe.
“…Figures.” Cao Cao snorted, “Now that we have come to an understanding, do you have it with you now? The piece of Pandora’s Box.”
Serafall grimaced, “…I don’t have it.”
Cao Cao pursed his lips, albeit his eyes were not that disappointed. “…Hm, shame, but perhaps I should have known better that an item of such caliber is not so easy to obtain. Very well, I will return another time. Have a good night, Lady Leviathan.”
Serafall’s expression was that of an angry scowl as Cao Cao vanished from view. She felt at a loss, she returned to the bathroom to see her reflection in the mirror, particularly the tattoo of a Faustian mark etched on the middle of her bare chest.
You went out a limb to fix things yet you fucked up over something that supposedly your bread and butter. Well done, remarkable job. I bet Sona will get a kick out of this.
The voice echoed from the deepest pit of her mind. The shadow of herself appeared and immediately vanished as Serafall shattered the mirror with her bare fist. As soon as her punch connected, the entire bedroom and bathroom was turned into a freezer, with ice encasing the interior and furniture around.
To be Continued…..
Omake: The Daily Life of Two Heavenly Dragons
It was during P.E period in Kuoh Academy…
[THAT WAS MINE!]
Irina, who just returned from a quick toilet break, returned to the school’s soccer field to see Issei and Vali on each other’s throats, with the rest of the guys attempting to break them off.
“What happened?” Irina asked as she regrouped with Xenovia and Asia, who were watching the spectacle with worry.
The ‘brothers’ were rising in popularity in Kuoh, at least with the females regarding Vali. The White Dragon Emperor was more famous in ‘awakening’ the dark side within the schoolgirls of Kuoh with certain fetishes.
“Well…” Xenovia replied, “Ise and Vali somehow got in each other’s way when they went in to score a goal.”
Xenovia sipped her bottle of water casually watching the two Dragon Emperors bicker.
“Oh, so it is the usual?” Irina asked, unbothered.
“Mhmm.” Xenovia hummed while she was still in the middle of drinking.
The soccer game resumed, but as the match went on….
“Get around them, Vali!” Issei shouted at his apparently ‘arch-rival’.
“I’m my own master!” Vali shouted back as he ran ahead.
The rest of the teammates could only groan and sighed in exasperation, and proceeded to do their best to improvise.
Each of those ‘brothers’ was dominant in the athletic field…
But it was so funny how being in the same team downgraded their performance so drastically that the opposing team, filled with mostly normals, could beat them.
Even Saji was on the opposing side, watching with entertainment how the dragons were at each other’s throats like in the legends.
“Loose ball!”
Matsuda shouted at the sight of the ball being unattended within the penalty area, then everyone watched Issei and Vali run shoulder-to-shoulder after the free ball.
“My ball!”
“Fuck you, that’s mine!”
Vali attempted to undermine Issei by pushing Issei’s away by his face; but with his vision hindered, the latter could still make a perfect shot towards the goal.
The whistle blew, signing the end of the game. As soon as the match was officially over, everyone was then greeted by the sight of Issei and Vali literally duking it out with each other.
“You kept getting in my way! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Vali threw a straight, which Issei easily parried in return.
“That’s my line, you ass!”
“Should we step in?” Xenovia asked, noticing that Asia had run ahead to stop the brawl.
“Yeah… the girls are starting to have fantasies again.” Irina pointed at some of their classmates drooling at the ‘physical interaction.’
Kiryuu in particular – was furiously writing on her notebook while drooling and giggling like a maniac.
About to head towards their love interest, they stopped when they saw a gleaming adonis statue of silver standing over the two boys.
“…Boys.”
Both Dragon Emperors flinched at the sound of their ‘coach’ from the ground. Vali was looming over Issei whose hands were grabbing the former’s hair and face.
They still could not adapt to the presence of their Big Bag coach that could turn them into statues at a single moment.
“As much as I support your physical prowess as alphas, I must harshly criticize your detrimental private competition to one-up the other. I suggest you two get your act together… or else I will make you continue this period in your underwear for the ladies. As motivation.”
The boys took spit-takes, while the girls squealed at the idea. The angel trio blushed, with Irina and Xenovia swallowing a lump at the prospect.
“Why wait when they can do it now?!” Kiryu shrieked.
She incited the girls into a chorus.
[Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Strip! Strip! Strip!]
The other girls were starting to chant at the ‘brothers’ to take the dare.
Even Tsubasa was chanting with feverish fervor.
Issei and Vali exchanged glances and shared a nod – reaching a silent accord before they chose to walk away from each other, earning disappointed jeers from the girls.
Silver scoffed before walking away, while the angel trio sighed in relief, believing the Two Dragon Emperors would behave from now on.
….They were so wrong.
Yeah… All of that happened. Thoughts?
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