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What If: God’s Arrival P4
🕑 Added 2025-12-29 23:24:05 +0000 UTCThe Seraphic System.
Omake.
What If Kai was summoned to the original world of highscool dxd during the meeting between the three Factions?
(The Devil Himself)
-{???}-
For the first time in a long time, the red Dragon found himself completely and utterly baffled.
How had this happened?
Moreover, how was this even possible?
His bright slitted yellow eyes stared flatly at the being carrying him… in one arm. The entity was holding him with one arm. Lugging him around like some common lizard found wherever such creatures spawned.
The smaller form he had taken shifted as he glared up at the entity, who looked lost in thought as they merely drifted in the dimensional gap.
Lost in thought. As if he wasn't holding the Dragon of Dragons. As if this situation were somehow normal.
Was this being defective?
The red Dragon found himself reluctantly admitting that perhaps his current size could have caused some confusion. But surely the sheer power radiating off him would correct that? He wasn't exactly hiding it.
He never hid it.
Hiding was for lesser creatures who feared being challenged.
Perhaps taking on a smaller form hadn't been his brightest idea. But it was comfortable. It allowed for better manoeuvrability when he was doing his usual routines through the dimensional gap. The tricks he could pull off in this state were far more satisfying.
And who cared if some other life form saw him like this?
The other annoyance of a Dragon had chosen to appear as a little girl, and from what he barely bothered to observe, she was doing quite well with that form. Not that he paid attention to what she did. He didn't care.
It had been a coincidence that he was in this form when sensing the massive output of power breaking out in the distance, large enough that it had drawn his curiosity.
He had half expected it to be that whiny Black Dragon.
If she had shown up, it would have meant another attempt from her to reject him from his home. Again. As if the infinite void wasn't big enough for both of them.
Annoying.
When he arrived and found a different being instead, curiosity had stirred. Rare, that.
This entity was powerful. That much he could truly sense and it was somehow hiding their very soul from his perception, which should have been impossible.
The sheer raging power he had sensed for that brief moment confirmed it.
Meeting such a being didn't happen anymore. It just didn't. The world had grown boring. Predictable. And perhaps he had grown a little too strong along the way.
But the strong knew their place and the weak scurried about beneath notice. Nothing surprised him.
Until now.
So many expectations had formed in his mind when approaching this stranger.
None of them. Not a single one had included being picked up, petted and called a Potato Dragon.
He wiggled in the arm holding him.
The grip was annoyingly comfortable. Warm in a way that made him want to settle in rather than incinerate the offender. That comfort was the only reason this being still existed.
The only reason he hadn't reduced them to less than ash for the audacity of what they had done.
Picking him up was bad enough.
But calling him Potato?
It had taken surfing through the conscious minds of dreaming mortals to discover what that word even meant. A root vegetable. Brown and lumpy and utterly unremarkable.
He was not a Potato!
He was the Apocalypse Dragon. The one recorded in prophecy as the harbinger of the end—not that he would ever bother with the effort—Beings fled at the mere sense of his approach.
And this creature had patted his head and called him a good Dragon.
The Red Dragon's eye twitched.
He should leave.
Simply vanish back into the dimensional gap and forget this entire humiliating experience had ever occurred. Pretend some unknown entity hadn't cradled him like a hatchling and cooed at him.
But.
That power.
Curiosity won over pride. Barely. He would figure out what this being was. Learn why they possessed such strength while simultaneously lacking the basic awareness to recognise what they held.
Then he would decide whether to be offended or amused.
For now, he remained.
Not because the arm was comfortable.
Definitely not because of that.
-{Kai}-
I floated in the Dimensional Gap.
An Infinite abyss stretched in every direction, the void of pure entropy clashing against the only other source of light that came from the thin barrier I maintained around myself and the Angel wrapped against my side.
Two hours until the meeting.
I wasn't rushing.
Part of me wanted to ignore it entirely, to simply explore this alternate version of my world and see what differences existed. But making sure the factions understood that Heaven was not to be trifled with seemed necessary.
Again.
Elandriel's breathing was steady against my shoulder.
I would need to return her to Heaven soon. Not yet though.
Everything I was doing now was preparation for that and once I went back, I expected a reunion similar to the one I had experienced before. The thought brought anticipation.
I was curious to see what this Heaven held and most of all what my new world held.
From what I had observed, the overall situation mirrored my own timeline closely enough. A few differences outside of Heaven, but the broad strokes remained the same.
The details were always where things got interesting.
The alliance between the Three Factions wasn't as imbalanced as it could have been, all things considered.
Still, Heaven was almost definitely gaining the least from the arrangement. Quality over quantity only stretched so far when the other factions were rebuilding their numbers while Angels remained stagnant.
That would need to change and it would without giving everything away in turn as I suspected was going to happen. I’d need to see the agreement plans and just how much they want.
My fingers traced through Elandriel's hair absently, the strands soft beneath my touch.
But before I could do all that a few matters required attention before the meeting.
First was the Greeks.
I patted the small dragon's head. The response to my actions was a confused sound, those yellow eyes blinking up at me with something approaching bewilderment.
The poor thing probably thought I was its mother.
My gaze pierced through the dimensional gap, seeking the coordinates where Olympus stood in the real world or more precisely where the entrance had been.
Nothing.
There was merely an empty space where a pantheon had floated in the sky.
I extended my senses further.
It was to be expected. It meant that Percy didn’t exist in this world, which I already kind of knew. The original timeline. Just what would have happened if I had ended up here?
Finding it would be the trick.
I searched for a mass gathering of divine power, since that was essentially what Olympus was and unless there was a Primordial slinging around it’d be the only signature in most of America.
A minute of searching and nothing immediately obvious presented itself.
"Well," I muttered. "This might take a minute."
The dragon in my arms made another sound. Almost judgmental, I swatted its head.
"Don't give me that look. I'm working on it." I mumbled.
A few minutes of searching later, I finally caught a thread. Faint but distinct. The potent energy of Divine power, which led to a pretty nasty set of barriers, thousands of them, protecting a giant city in the clouds.
I pinpointed my desired location and teleportated through the barriers. The transition was slightly jarring. One moment, endless void. Next, I was standing on solid ground under an open sky.
I looked up, spotting the massive divine kingdom in the sky.
"Right," I said. "Step one complete. Now to find step two."
The dragon made a sound again, glaring at me with annoyance.
"Hush now, I know what I'm doing," I said, finding a certain God of war. “Probably, but it appears we need to make a small detour.”
Hello Ares.
-{Ares}-
Ares twisted the throttle grip on his Harley, the engine vibrating with a deep growl beneath his legs, the metal frame shuddering as exhaust pipes spat hot fumes.
The desert highway unrolled ahead, flat asphalt going for miles through sand dunes under a cloudless sky, air wavering in rising heat waves that blurred the horizon.
A sign Zeus was in a good mood or he’d let it show by forming clouds above everyone.
Ares leaned his body low over the handlebars, wind whipping against his leather jacket and pulling at his hair. The bike’s tyres hugged the curve, rubber gripping the road as the frame tilted sharply, suspension compressing under his weight.
Chrome accents glinted in the sunlight, wheels spinning faster on the straightaway.
A buzz hummed from his jacket pocket, fabric shifting against his chest. His hand released the grip, fingers reaching inside the zipper, leather creaking.
Ares rolled his eyes at the whiny text, putting the phone away as he saw another bitchy text from Aphrodite.
He didn’t have time for that, or well, didn’t really care enough. So some of his kids beat the shit out of one of her children, it’s not like he told them to go that hard on the brats.
The God of War rolled his eyes, glimpsing Olympus in the very far distance with his divine senses.
He'd been thinking about the upcoming meeting.
Zeus had called it for some bureaucratic nonsense. Probably wanted to lecture everyone about maintaining appearances or whatever. Ares didn't care much for council meetings.
Too much talking, not enough action.
What he cared about was the rumour he'd heard.
Apparently the troublesome irks that called themselves the three Factions were having some sort of meeting. It didn’t mean much for him but apparently, it was some sort of big deal.
Ares grinned.
Where there were alliances, there was potential for conflict. Where there was conflict, there was war.
He could sense it, there was no way such a meeting wasn’t being attacked and was it wrong he kind of wanted in on the action? He wouldn’t go too far and honestly, he was a bit late, he’d probably not make it on time, but he had nothing else to do.
Perhaps he could nab a few Devil girls? The Fallen were former Angels so they were tempting as well… the real fruit would be an Angel but grabbing a few in whatever chaos arose could be challenging.
He took the next curve fast, leaning into it.
Then there was a blur, followed by a heavy impact that struck his side, force slamming into his ribs and shoulder, body jolting sideways as the bike wobbled beneath him. It connected with his ribs with enough force to launch him off the bike.
Ares' flew off the bike and rolled, an explosion of dust following his wake as he slid along the cold hard ground long enough for a storm of dust to be left in his wake.
He rolled, instinct taking over, and came up in a crouch.
His bike crashed into the ditch beside the road, engine still running.
"What-“
A figure stood in the middle of the highway in the far distance beside his bike.
Ares’ burning eyes immediately assessed his appearance. He was a downright ethereal young man, holding what looked like a beautiful sleeping woman in one arm and a small red dragon in the other.
Who the hell?
Ares flared divine power, his eyes glowing a baleful red as the area around him trembled.
“You dare?” Ares asked dangerously. “Who are you to attack me?”
It was only the confusion that stopped him.
The younger man looked mightily unbothered.
“Kaiel, Kai for short.” He said, his tone itching something fierce in Ares.
Ares glared. “I haven’t heard of you.”
“I doubted you would have.” He replied instantly.
Irked, Ares barely stopped himself from obliterating the unknown being.
“And then, pray tell why have you attacked me?” Ares asked, rubbing his ribs and staring at him warily.
He obviously wasn’t weak.
“Do you have any understanding of who I am or better yet where you even are?” Ares questioned further.
He ignored the last question.
“You looked attackable," the figure agreed. His tone was casual.
Ares’ eye twitched.
The worst part was that he could sense it was the truth.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" Ares stood fully, cracking his neck. His sunglasses had flown off somewhere.
This punk was about to learn a very painful lesson.
"Not really," the figure said, it registered as a lie immediately. "But you look like you know your way around. So I figured I'd ask for directions."
Ares stared. "You kicked me off my bike to ask for directions?"
It was a lie.
"Yeah, you kinda looked self-absorbed, so I needed to get your attention."
Another lie.
Rage exploded through Ares. His form shifted slightly, divine power manifesting. He grew taller, more imposing. His leather jacket seemed to absorb the sunlight around it.
"I'm going to tear you apart."
"That seems a little excessive, even for you," the figure said. "I just need to know where Olympus is."
Ares charged.
He closed the distance in a blink, fist already swinging. The punch would have caved in a mortal's chest. Would have sent most demigods flying.
The figure caught it. One-handed. While still holding the sleeping woman and dragon.
Ares tried to pull back. He couldn’t…The grip was like iron.
His skin shimmered as light burst from his pores, muscles expanding and veins glowing with golden hues, his sword arm whipping forward in a wide arc, the blade glinting as the man’s hand knocked it aside with a clang.
A sharp impact struck Ares' jaw, bone crunching under knuckles, his head jerking sideways, his feet staggering backwards on the asphalt, metallic tang filling his mouth as liquid welled on his tongue.
While he recovered, his fists clenched and thrust out in a rapid sequence of devastating punches, arms pumping with bulging muscles, knuckles cutting through the air.
The figure leaned aside from one blow, raised an arm to deflect another, body shifting fluidly without tensing shoulders or quickening breath.
His fingers grasped empty air, summoning another sword as metal formed in his palm and the sword took shape, hilt solidifying in his grip.
The figure’s hands remained empty.
Ares's arms swung the blade downward, steel whistling through the wind, the edge halting against the figure’s raised forearm with a jarring vibration that numbed his wrists, the limb unyielding like forged iron under flesh.
"This is getting tiresome," the figure said. “But then again, I can’t say I hadn’t picked you specially.”
Then he moved.
Too fast. Ares barely registered the kick before it connected with his stomach. He doubled over, the air exploding from his lungs. A follow-up strike caught him in the chest and sent him flying backwards.
He crashed through a road sign, the metal bending around him.
Ares struggled to his feet. His ribs were cracked. His divine healing was already working, but the pain was very real.
"What are you?" he managed.
"Someone who needs directions." The figure walked closer. "This really could have been a simple conversation.”
Why was he lying?
Ares tried to stand his ground. But something in the figure's eyes made him hesitate.
"Now," the figure said, his tone taking on an almost innocent quality. "Where's Olympus? Ah forget it, I don’t know why I’m pretending I didn’t just come here to beat your ass.”
Then he vanished.
Just gone.
Ares stood in the middle of the road, bleeding, his bike wrecked in the ditch.
His wounds weren’t that bad, but the sheer speed and ease with which they had been inflicted was another story. His divine power slowly knitted his injuries back together.
What the hell just happened?
He pulled out his phone.
It was cracked but still functional.
He almost felt like a child who needed to call someone. But who? And about what?
Some impossibly powerful being who kicked gods off motorcycles to ask for directions?
Zeus would never believe it. Mother would probably scold him for showing weakness.
Ares looked at the empty highway, then at his ruined bike.
This was going to be a problem.
Then he shrugged.
Oh well.
Not his problem apparently.
-{Kai}-
Yeah, I hadn’t needed to do that.
I had already knew where Mount Olympus was.
But I couldn’t let up on the chance and sometimes you just needed to hit something, and Ares had always rubbed me the wrong way.
The version here seemed no different.
I found Elandriel again, her eyes staring worriedly.
I opened my arms and she jumped into them. She still looked dazed and apparently didn’t feel like talking. So I merely shifted her onto my back, making sure she was still comfortable.
The dragon made another sound, eyes glancing in the general direction of Ares.
"Don't encourage me," I said.
I looked up.
Olympus loomed above, a sprawling city of marble and gold floating among the clouds. Temples and palaces stretched across its surface, connected by winding paths and grand staircases.
Divine energy saturated the air, thick enough to taste.
Getting in should have been difficult.
The barriers surrounding the mountain were impressive. Thousands of interlocking wards, each one designed to detect and repel intruders. Layer upon layer of protection added by paranoid gods who didn't trust each other, let alone outsiders.
I walked through them.
The wards parted like curtains, their detection spells sliding off my presence like water off glass.
The streets of Olympus were quieter than I expected. A few minor gods wandered about, spirits and servants going about their business.
None of them noticed me.
Which is good, since I did make for quite a sight.
An Angel on my back, a dragon in my arm and my appearance had never been subtle… especially now.
Elandriel stirred slightly against my shoulder but didn't wake, having fallen back asleep from what seemed to be an almost eternal slumber with how easily she was ignoring everything around her.
The dragon's eyes tracked everything with suspicious intensity. Its small head swivelled constantly, taking in the sights of the divine city with what I could only describe as boredom.
It gave me a look that somehow conveyed both disdain and curiosity.
I moved through the streets casually, avoiding the main thoroughfares where more powerful gods might sense my passage.
Side paths and lesser-used walkways served me better. Past a temple dedicated to Apollo that gleamed with golden light. Around a courtyard where nymphs tended to a fountain that sparkled with liquid starlight.
It was interesting.
Olympus was different, which should have been expected.
Most of the residents suspected that I was some sort of God, moving aside as I casually walked through without a care in the world.
It was only a little while later that I found what I was looking for.
The hearth sat at the centre of Olympus, a modest flame burning in an unassuming alcove that most would walk past without a second glance. Just a simple fire, tended by a less simple presence.
She sat beside it, wrapped in plain brown robes, her appearance unremarkable compared to the ostentatious displays of the other Olympians. Dark hair fell past her shoulders. Warm eyes reflected the dancing flames.
Hestia.
I approached slowly, letting my presence become known gradually rather than appearing from nothing.
Even so, she startled when she noticed me
She blinked, looking up from the flames.
It was probably more of the fact that as a God not many could sneak up on her.
"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to disturb you."
Her eyes moved over me, taking in the sleeping Angel in my arms, the small dragon perched against my chest. Surprise flickered across her features, followed by something softer.
"Oh, you're not disturbing me at all." She straightened slightly, brushing ash from her robes. "I just wasn't expecting company.”
"Their loss," I commented.
That made her pause.
She looked at me more carefully now, warm brown eyes searching my face with gentle curiosity.
"I don't think we've met," she said, gazing at me intensely.
“We haven’t,” I replied easily, taking a seat next to her.
My answer confused her more.
“I am Hestia. Though I suppose you probably knew that, if you came here specifically." She said curiously.
“I doubt anyone in Olympus doesn’t know your name.”
"May I ask why?" She tilted her head. "Not many seek me out, either too intimidated or uncaring of what I have to offer.”
I lay Elandriel's head on my lap, petting her.
“Why not? I’m mostly just passing through.” I replied.
“You are not from Olympus.” She said, nodding slightly. “And if I am correct, that is an Angel… along with a…” She squinted at the dragon. "Is that a winged lizard?"
The dragon made an offended sound, glaring furiously.
"A dragon," I corrected. "He's sensitive about his size."
"Oh. Oh dear, I'm sorry." She addressed the dragon directly, her expression genuinely apologetic. "You're a very handsome dragon. I didn't mean to offend."
The dragon looked ready to kill her.
Hestia turned back to me with a small smile. "You still haven't told me your name."
"Kai."
"Kai." She repeated it slowly. “A name I don’t recognise, may I ask how you entered? With an Angel and a dragon no less.”
“I snuck in,” I smirked.
“You… snuck in?” Hestia asked with bewilderment.
“Yes,” I said, looking around. "The other gods don't visit you much, do they?"
She shook off the surprise of my statement.
"They're busy." She said it without complaint. "Zeus has his duties. The others have their domains, their rivalries, their dramas. The hearth doesn't need much tending, and I don't demand attention. It works out."
"Does it?".
"Most days," she said softly.
We spoke for a while longer but I didn’t have a lot of time.
"Welp, unfortunately I'm in a bit of a time crunch," I said eventually, standing and adjusting my hold on Elandriel. "There's something I need to attend to, multiple things actually.”
"Of course." She rose with me, brushing off her robes. "Thank you for stopping by. It was nice to have someone to talk to."
I paused at that.
Such a simple statement.
"Hestia."
"Yes?"
"I'll come back," I said. "When I have some more time. We can talk properly, I’ve got a lot of things to deal with and a whole kingdom kind of waiting on me if you could believe that. But perhaps next time you can come visit me? It’s not often Gods converse without trying to inflict an ego on you in some weird game.”
Her eyes widened slightly. "You don't have to say that just to be kind."
"I'm not." I held her gaze. "I mean it."
She studied my face for a long moment, searching for the lie. When she didn't find one, something in her expression softened.
"I'd like that," she said quietly.
I turned to leave.
"Kai?"
I looked back.
"Whatever you're about to do," she said, "be careful. I don't know why you snuck into Olympus but my brothers can be very… harsh.”
"Oh don’t worry, I’m not staying here. I actually came to this region for something else.”
Hestia blinked. “What would that be?”
“I don’t suppose you could point me to Hades?”
Hestia’s face became even more urgent.
-Scene Break-
The entrance to the Greek Underworld was less impressive than I expected.
A cave mouth yawning in the side of a cliff, darkness pooling within like spilt ink. No grand gates or imposing architecture. Just rock and shadow and the faint whisper of the dead.
I had found it easily enough.
The dragon had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, its small form surprisingly heavy against my arm. Elandriel remained unconscious, her breathing steady.
Talking to Hestia was nice. It probably wasn’t the right time to do so but I was feeling a little chaotic at the moment. It was good to know she was still relatively the same.
As for my true objective here.
During my scan of this timeline's Heaven, I had noticed something wrong. Souls that should have been in Heaven's hands were instead flowing elsewhere. Diverted. Stolen, if I was being uncharitable about it.
The trail led here.
Hades was stealing the souls of Heaven.
I had to remind myself this wasn’t the same Hades as my world's version.
I stepped into the darkness.
The River Styx stretched before me, its waters dark and churning. Souls drifted along its banks, waiting for passage. The air tasted of endings.
A lady peeked her head at my approach and I shot her a wink.
Charon's ferry sat at the near shore, the skeletal boatman watching my approach with empty eye sockets.
"Passage requires payment," he rasped.
I walked past him onto the boat.
"Hey." His voice cracked with indignation. "I said passage requires-“
"Send the bill to Hades."
I began walking on the water, leaving a bewildered Charon staring at my back, standing frozen at the shore, his jaw hanging open.
The journey across was quiet. Souls floated past in the dark waters, their faces blurred and indistinct. Some reached toward me. Most didn't notice my presence at all.
The far shore revealed the true scope of the Underworld.
As I observed the Fields of Asphodel stretched endlessly, populated by the shades of the ordinary dead. In the distance, the gates of Elysium gleamed with power.
And at the centre of it all, a palace of black stone rose against the cavern ceiling.
I walked toward it.
The dead parted around me.
Guards stationed at various points tensed as I passed but didn't move to stop me. Something in my presence gave them pause. Self-preservation, perhaps.
Well, actually, it was the sheer amount of holy energy I was flooding the area with.
There appeared to be a general aura of pure disbelief, as I casually strolled through the most guarded area of the Greek underworld and casually swatted open the large doors to his palace, an Angel on my back and a small Dragon still in my arm.
I made for a weird sight, even for my standards.
The throne room beyond was stark.
Hades sat on his throne, a figure of shadow and stillness. Dark hair framed a pale face. Eyes like deep wells regarded me with a mixture of confusion and irritation.
Beside him, Persephone looked up from whatever she had been reading. Her expression shifted through several emotions before settling on guarded curiosity.
"Who are you?" Hades' voice echoed through the chamber. "How did you get past my defences?"
"I walked," I said.
His eye twitched. "You walked."
"Through your barriers. Past your guards. Across your river without paying the ferryman." I stopped at a respectful distance from the throne. "It wasn't particularly difficult. Nice dog by the way.”
Cerberus was a cutie.
Persephone set her reading aside.
Hades leaned forward, shadows deepening around him. "Who are you to come into my domain so brazenly? And regard me with such a lackadaisical tone.”
His power swelled.
He would genuinely attempt to kill me for this, as most Gods would.
It made me reminisce in a sense.
"You could try." I let a fraction of my power slip its constraints.
Just a fraction. Enough to make the shadows in the room recoil. Enough to make Persephone's breath catch and Hades' grip tighten on his throne.
"But I wouldn't recommend it."
Silence stretched. The Lord of the Dead studied me with new wariness.
"What do you want?" he asked finally.
"You have something that belongs to me."
"I have many things that many believe are of their own,” Hades responded, even more wary.
He was measuring me up and subtly empowering himself with his domain. Divine veins of power moved under us, moving in what Hades probably thought was a subtle way
"You’ve been taking something that's not yours" I interrupted. "Souls that were meant for Heaven. Souls that somehow found their way here instead."
Hades' expression flickered. Surprise, quickly suppressed.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do." I took a step closer. "Somewhere in your domain, there's a system siphoning souls that belong to the Biblical afterlife. Redirecting them here before they can reach their proper destination."
"The Biblical God is dead," Persephone said. "His system collapsed. Those souls have to go somewhere."
“Collapsed or altered?” I questioned.
“What?” She asked.
"His system didn't collapse. It continued functioning. Which means someone is actively interfering with it." My eyes met Hades'. "Someone with access to the underworld's infrastructure."
The Lord of the Dead said nothing.
“Why would my husband do such a thing?” She asked. “Why would he take on more of a burden for nothing?”
“Nothing?” I asked. “Souls have power… in fact, he’s drawing on them now.”
Souls could be used, they produced a small amount of energy that could be used without damaging them. They were essentially batteries. Most didn’t know this and it took someone with the ability to manipulate souls to use this.
Something with the domain of death would do.
Shadows gathered around Hades, his power manifesting. "You walk into my home, make accusations, and expect me to simply allow-“
I let more of my power show.
The shadows froze. The temperature in the room dropped. For a single heartbeat, every soul in the Underworld felt my presence, a weight pressing down on the entire realm.
Hades went still.
Persephone's hand found his arm, her face pale.
I pulled my power back, letting the oppressive weight lift.
"I'm not here to fight," I said boredly. "I’m more telling you what’s going to happen, I’m sure it was quite a big boost for you and the situations were different back then. But you will give it back to us.”
Hades stared at me for a long moment. Then he laughed.
It was a hollow sound, devoid of humour.
"You're Him, aren't you?" he said. "How are you back? That shouldn’t be possible.”
I didn't answer.
"Then you won't mind me correcting the problem?
"I mind very much. But I also recognise when I'm outmatched." His eyes narrowed. "Don't mistake pragmatism for acceptance. You're trespassing in my domain. There will be consequences eventually."
I clicked my tongue.
"I look forward to discussing them." I turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Hades?"
"What?"
“I’m going to be leaving for now, if you don’t have everything ready for him when I’m back we are going to have a problem,” I said lightly.
Then I was gone.
The shadows of the Underworld closed behind me, leaving the Lord of the Dead staring at a single white feather and wondering what exactly had just walked into his realm.
That had gone well.
I quickly found myself teleporting to a different section of the underworld, the part where the Devils had resided since their creation. The Underworld was exactly as dreary as I remembered.
So that wasn’t a change…
I wondered if Hell existed here, that could prove troublesome.
I casually looked around at the area I had appeared in, the golden circle below me dissipating and leaving me in a darkness only lit by the purple skies that stretched endlessly overhead.
The landscape was dotted with gothic architecture and floating islands that defied physics in ways that would have given my old physics teacher an aneurysm.
I adjusted my casual coat and glanced back at the massive red dragon floating behind me, then I began descending through the upper layers of the Underworld, passing territories marked with the crests of various pillar families.
From prior experience, I was able to view the various pillar houses' territories.
The Gremory lands stretched red and verdant to the east. The Sitri domain glittered with crystalline structures to the west. All of it carefully maintained, carefully governed, carefully protected with wards.
The current Satans had done well for themselves.
Rebuilt after a civil war. Found a way to mass-produce talent, created a system that allowed Purebloods to have their own militia groups of selected talent.
Then once those talents rose they would have that connected and an invisible chain on whatever peerage they came to make.
This was all controlled by the sheer power of the four Satans.
I already knew all of this. At least that’s what I suspected. Even if I was wrong it didn’t change my current actions. Still, their power was obviously making them complacent.
I needed to fix that.
The peace meeting was approaching and I wanted every faction walking into that room to be uncertain.
The Fallen weren't a concern. Azazel practically wanted peace more than I did and my appearance has probably done something fierce to the general populace of Fallen.
But the Devils needed something to shake their foundations. All their general populace still thought that I was alive after all and the image that I was all-powerful was still there, even if they probably assumed the Satan’s could repel me or some other such thing.
So I needed something to remind them that their comfortable little power structure wasn't as permanent as they believed.
I knew exactly where to find it.
The deeper layers of the Underworld.
The current generation of Devils had forgotten they existed, or at least they were happier to live on the surface. There were the old places that the Devils had retreated to, where the real war took place.
Some places were filled with lingering holy energy that created dead zones for the underworld, which relied on Demonic power. While others were merely destroyed so thoroughly that they were massive tunnels that led into deeper spaces.
I passed through the first barrier without slowing.
The world changed as I descended.
Gothic spires gave way to rougher stonework.
And the purple light became red.
The deeper layers of the Underworld were barren, endless stretches of scorched earth and jagged rock formations that clawed toward the red sky of red soil that was above.
This would be where the Great War had truly taken place, at least for the devils.
I could feel the residual energy even now.
Angelic light and demonic power had clashed here with such intensity that the ground still remembered. Craters dotted the landscape, some spanning miles.
A graveyard without graves, left in a perpetual eerie silence that made everything feel untouched.
I observed it all curiously and walked across the scorched earth, my senses extended outward.
Now I needed to find what I was looking for, somewhere in this multi-layered wasteland…
The search took longer than expected.
The battlefield stretched endlessly, each section looking much like the last. Broken weapons jutted from the ground like metal weeds. Scraps of armour lay half-buried in ash.
Here and there I passed skeletal remains, Devils and Angels alike reduced to bones by the passage of centuries.
It was interesting in a sense, as much as it was annoying, the Angel hanging off me didn’t make seeing the many corpses of those who had fought for Heaven any easier.
Which was why I took what I could, opening my inventory and taking the little remnants of what remained. Some lay peacefully with wounds that had bled out long ago, while most were in… worse states.
Then I felt it.
A presence. Power that had dimmed but never fully extinguished, buried beneath layers of rock and time. It was a larger amount of it and extremely potent.
I followed the sensation to a massive crater, deeper than the others. At its centre, the ground had collapsed inward, creating a depression filled with debris and hardite stone.
The battle that had taken place here looked particularly large. Which was to say there was a crater going at least one hundred miles in every direction.
My hand extended and the earth responded. Rock and soil parted, lifting away in great chunks to reveal what lay buried underneath. Layers of sediment that had accumulated over hundreds of years, slowly swallowing the body that had fallen here.
A body emerged from the ground like a corpse rising from a shallow grave.
The body was remarkably preserved.
The residual power in his flesh had prevented decay, leaving him looking more asleep than dead. White hair caked with dirt and dried blood. Armour cracked and punctured in dozens of places, a testament to the battle that had killed him.
His aristocratic face was still and almost peaceful.
The first and greatest of the Devils.
And a great many mouthfuls of titles.
So that is where he had fallen.
It was a good thing I was looking for a certain amount of lingering power for the general area. Though the large crater and the sheer amount of power flooding the area were a giveaway.
So he had died here. Abandoned by both sides who were too exhausted and too depleted to do anything but retreat.
That seemed about right…
I descended into the crater, my feet touching down beside his half-buried form.
This was going to be interesting.
"You know, for all my harsh thoughts the current Satans are doing an ok job," I said to the corpse.
I crouched beside him, brushing dirt from his face.
"But that's the problem. They appear to be ok with absorbing everything around them for the benefit of the devils. And while that's fine for them, it’s leaving a lot of trouble in its wake.”
The sheer amount of stray devils that were left behind and the number of people forced to become devils… the numbers weren’t low, especially when they simply got a replacement piece if a devil became a stray.
Well, that was my world, but I didn’t feel like anything was different in this one in that particular aspect.
My hand began to glow.
"Let's see how they handle a reminder of just who made them.” I smiled innocently. “Not even death is going to stop you from paying child support.”
Power erupted from my palm, flooding the crater with radiance that burned away millennia of accumulated grime. The residual death energy that clung to Lucifer's form screamed as I tore it away, replacing absence with presence, stillness with life.
The body beneath my hand began to change. Colour returned to grey flesh. Wounds that had never healed finally closed. A chest that hadn't moved in thousands of years suddenly expanded with breath.
And then his eyes opened.
Red and gold swirling together like fire and sunlight, full of intelligence and confusion and the dawning realisation of someone who remembered dying.
Lucifer sat up.
Dirt cascaded from his armour.
He looked at me, visually analysing me before he looked past me at Potato, who was peering down into the crater with curious yellow eyes. His face cycled through confusion, recognition, disbelief, and what might have been terror.
Then he looked back at me.
I smacked him gently on the forehead.
"Welcome back sleepy.”
He opened his mouth and I held a finger to his lips.
“Try not to cause too much trouble. Actually, scratch that. Cause exactly enough trouble to make the current Satans panic. Have fun."
I rose and floated up out of the crater.
"Wait." His voice was hoarse, cracked from disuse. "Who. What. Is that. How do you have-“
His words were in disarray and he stumbled up, blinking around and clutching his body.
"All excellent questions. I'm sure you'll figure it out."
The Morning Star sat alone in the dirt of his own death site, goggling at the sky where I vanished with my pet dragon in tow.
Who said chaos was only for the forces of evil?
I rose into the sky, my haze flickering around the area with a frown.
That did leave the matter of just where had Yahweh’s body gone?
-{?}-
Dirt.
There was dirt in his mouth.
That was the first coherent thought Lucifer managed as his mind clawed its way back to consciousness.
Dirt in his mouth, grit between his teeth. He spat. Coughed. His lungs burned with the effort of drawing breath after so long without it.
He had died, of that he was certain.
How long?
The question floated through the fog of his thoughts but found no answer. He remembered the battle, finally fighting and actually damaging his Father.
Then he had remembered falling, the ground rushing up, the cold certainty that this was the end.
Then nothing.
And now this.
He sat in a crater, half-buried in the earth that had swallowed his corpse. His armour was cracked and filthy. His hair hung in matted clumps. Every muscle ached with the memory of wounds that had somehow healed.
Someone had brought him back.
That limited it to a few Gods and perhaps a few beings outside that.
The stranger's face surfaced in his fragmented memories.
So much power that Lucifer's senses had recoiled from it even in his barely-conscious state.
Then the stranger had abruptly slapped him on the forehead.
Slapped him.
Like he was a misbehaving child.
Lucifer's jaw tightened. The Morning Star. The Light Bringer. The firstborn of the Devils, who had waged war against Heaven itself. And some entity had patted his head and wandered off with vague instructions to "cause trouble."
The indignity of it burned.
He forced himself to stand, legs trembling beneath him. His body was weak. Fragile in a way it hadn't been since his earliest days of existence. The resurrection had restored him but not his strength.
That would take time to rebuild.
Time.
But how much time had passed?
He looked around the crater, at the blasted wasteland stretching in every direction.
This was where he had fallen.
He recognised the shape of the land, the distant rock formations. But everything felt older and the power that would have lingered from the attacks his Father had made should have been burning his skin.
His hands clenched into fists.
The war.
What had happened to the war? Had the Devils won? Lost? Was there even a Devil faction left to return to?
Were his loyal followers alive? It could be troublesome if he had to rebuild everything from scratch. And who in all the realms had that stranger been?
The power radiating from him had been immense.
His eyes narrowed… he recognised the power, but perhaps he just didn’t want to play with the idea in his mind. He was dead after all, he’d seen to that with the other Satans.
He had watched the light fade from those eyes. Had laughed even as his own death approached, knowing that he had helped bring down the tyrant who cast him out.
So who was the stranger?
His mind circled back to those final moments before the entity left. The casual display of resurrection.
The dismissive attitude.
Damn it.
It was really him wasn’t it?
But how?!
And the dragon.
Lucifer's thoughts stuttered to a halt.
The dragon.
He had seen it peering into the crater. Massive. Red scales. Yellow eyes blinking with simple curiosity. At the time, his newly-awakened brain hadn't fully processed what he was looking at.
Now it did.
Great Red.
The Dragon of Dragons.
The Apocalypse Dragon. The True Red Dragon God Emperor, who dwelt in the Dimensional Gap and acknowledged no master. One of the most powerful beings in existence, second perhaps only to the Infinite Dragon God itself.
Even he wasn’t so far gone as to ignore the threat of it.
Lucifer's legs gave out. He sat down heavily in the dirt, staring at the empty sky where the two had vanished.
Potato.
He had called the Apocalypse Dragon "Potato."
And the dragon had wagged its tail. Or perhaps that was a figment of his imagination.
Lucifer pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to force his scrambled thoughts into some kind of order.
None of this made sense. Even then his mind stayed on that feeling, the power behind the man before it had been thoroughly suppressed.
Lucifer sat in the dirt of his own grave, surrounded by the bones of the war he had fought millennia ago, and felt something he hadn't experienced since before his fall.
Fear.
God had returned.
And He had just resurrected Lucifer with a pat on the head and instructions to cause trouble.
The Morning Star stared at the empty sky for a long time.
Then, despite everything, he started to laugh.
Just what machinations were in play?
-{Kai}-
The Seventh Heaven materialised around me and I approached my throne.
Potato settled beside me, too large to fit comfortably within the side of the seat but able to drape over it, his eyes scanned the area with interest and he appeared to finally accept that I was in fact, his mother.
A weird concept, but he was a young Dragon.
I wasn't alone for long.
"FATHER!"
The blur of white robes was my only warning before Uriel slammed into me with enough force to send a lesser being through several walls. The male Seraph's arms wrapped around me tightly, his face pressed against my shoulder.
"You're here," he breathed. "You're actually here.”
“Hey, Uriel.” I smiled.
Uriel backed away. “Where did you go? After the meeting was halted, you just vanished. We didn't know where you went, we couldn't sense you.”
Right.
I'd almost forgotten.
I was the being they had mourned for centuries, convinced he had died in the Great War. I had appeared at the peace meeting, halted the proceedings with my mere presence, and then promptly disappeared to handle other matters.
Without explaining anything.
Without even properly speaking to them.
For them, this was the first real interaction since their world had been turned upside down. The first chance to actually talk to the being they thought they'd lost forever.
I was apt in this situation after all.
So I went through my options.
I considered explaining the truth. That I wasn't exactly their God, but rather a version of him from another timeline, I was technically his successor and had gained all his power.
Then I decided that would just confuse them and technically, I was God. Just... a different iteration.
It was complicated.
But "complicated" could wait.
"Uriel." I patted his back gently.
Footsteps approached from deeper in the throne room.
I looked up to see Michael and Gabriel walking toward us, their expressions cycling through so many emotions I couldn't track them all.
Relief. Disbelief. Joy. Pain.
My eyes landed on Gabriel the most.
Just as beautiful as my own Gabriel, with only a few changes.
Gabriel reached us first. Her arms joined Uriel's around me, her golden hair spilling over my shoulder as she pressed close. A sound escaped her that might have been a laugh or a sob.
Probably both.
"We thought- " Her voice cracked. "For so long, we thought-“
"I know," I said softly.
Michael was more composed, as always.
The leader of Heaven's armies, the strongest of the Seraphs, the one who had held everything together during the centuries of my predecessor's absence. He waited until Gabriel had settled, his expression carefully controlled.
Then that control shattered and the adorable side of Michael peeked through.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around all three of us, his wings unfurling to encompass the group in a cocoon of golden feathers.
His shoulders shook once, twice, before he controlled himself.
"Father," he managed. "Welcome home."
I simply stood there for a few minutes, surrounded by my Angels.
Before remembering the situation at hand.
The meeting was resuming in thirty minutes.
“It's good to be back,” I replied.
It didn’t feel any less just because I had another world with all my Angels in it.
In fact… it gave me an idea.
It was another ten minutes before the subject of the meeting came up.
Uriel's grip tightened. "It can wait."
"It could but it’ll be good to get the tone set before they try anything,” I replied casually. “And I’ve already delayed it.”
"Good," Gabriel muttered against my shoulder. "They deserved to be disrupted."
Michael pulled back slightly, though he kept one hand on my arm as if afraid I might disappear again. "She's right. The Devils and Fallen have been scrambling since your appearance. Azazel has sent seventeen requests for clarification. Sirzechs has been trying to contact us every hour."
"And you've told them nothing?" I asked hopefully.
"We had nothing to tell." Michael's jaw tightened. "You didn't exactly leave us with information, Father."
Fair point.
"It's complicated," I said.
Michael waited for elaboration.
I didn't provide any.
"...Right." He exhaled slowly. "Complicated. Of course."
Complicated indeed.
I met their stares evenly, though a flicker of unease stirred in my gut.
Michael’s gaze no longer sat on me, his face having gone pale, his usual composed demeanour cracking like thin ice, eyes wide as he glanced between me and the doorway.
Gabriel and Uriel became equally as pale.
Gabriel’s hand hovered near her side, as if ready to summon a weapon, while Uriel’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the exit with something akin to dread.
“Father,” Michael repeated, his voice lower now, laced with a hesitation I’d never heard from him before. He swallowed visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That… creature outside. The red dragon. What is it doing with you?”
Gabriel leaned forward slightly, her golden hair catching the light, but her expression was guarded, lips pressed into a thin line as if speaking might summon disaster. Those large eyes grew as urgent as everyone else in the room.
Uriel crossed his arms, but his fingers dug into his biceps, knuckles whitening, his eyes darting back to the doorway like he expected the beast to stir at any moment.
I blinked, glancing back at Potato, who let out a contented rumble in his sleep, his massive tail curling lazily around a pillar. “What, him? That’s just Crimson. He’s harmless, mostly. Followed me home from a rift or something. His mother must have abandoned him due to his small stature.”
The Dragon let out a squawk.
Poor thing.
Their reactions only grew more pronounced.
Michael’s wings folded tighter against his back, a subtle tremble running through them, while Gabriel’s hand finally dropped to her hip, fingers flexing nervously.
Uriel uncrossed his arms, stepping back a fraction, his face draining of colour as if I’d just confessed to harbouring the apocalypse itself.
They all looked ready to jump and defend me.
“Harmless?” Uriel echoed, his voice barely above a whisper, edged with genuine fear that made his eyes widen further. “Father, do you… Do you not know what that is?”
I stared at them, then burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the throne room’s high ceilings.
“Stop being silly, Uriel, you’ll scare him.” I chided softly. “That’s just Potato. He’s a bit big, sure, but he’s basically a puppy. Rolls over for belly rubs and everything.”
I rolled my eyes at their looks.
“I found him on his own, don’t worry. He’s been a good dragon.”
I patted him on the head.
Michael hesitantly nodded. “Y-yes Father.”
Uriel sent him a flat glance, as if annoyed by his hesitant obedience.
“In any case, we need to speak about the meeting and what’s been going on,” I said, bringing back attention to the subject at hand.
I was curious to see if I was correct or just biased.
“Of course,” Michael said excitedly, his eyes watching me like a puppy. “Though may we know what you’ve been doing in these past few hours?”
“A few things, but I guess the main one would be reviving Lucifer,” I said idly, looking at Elandriel who was in Gabriel’s care now.
Gabriel had already taken her, getting a small brief on the situation as her caring nature broke through.
She paused.
The reaction I got was not quite as composed.
-END-
Note: Hope you guys enjoyed, let me know if you want to see the continuation of this :)
Comments
Nxtlevel
Please continue!
NC20_00
Oh yes! I've been waiting for another chapter of this! Loving this ever so casual way Kai's been going about things in this world. I definitely need to see more
