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What If: God’s Arrival P3
🕑 Added 2025-10-24 20:04:38 +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 Reckoning)
-{Rias Gremory}-
Something had happened.
That much was clear to Rias as she quickly made her way back to the meeting room, her peerage behind her. Barring Xenovia who was as still as a statue, eyes staring down with emotions Rias didn’t know how to go about solving.
After she'd left the meeting venue, she had to force herself to ignore the unbelievable statement Ddraig had made, and keep running to reach her adorable Bishop.
Her mind had run ablaze with all sorts of possibilities. In many of which, harm had managed to find its way to Gasper. Perhaps it was by a miracle of the so-called Father of Angels, but Gasper had been unharmed.
The magicians that had forced his time ability to activate had been killed in a shocking display of magical control. To know that the attack, that had made her skin shiver, had spread beyond just the immediate area without harming anyone else was... terrifying.
How far could that go?
Destruction was.. easy. Or it was at least instinctual. She knew that. Letting chaos reign, destroying what was intact, sowing the smallest of discord to topple greater structures was easier. She could cause a great amount of ruin with her own Power of Destruction.
But to have such control was beyond just destruction. It was out of the realm of mortals, and such proficiency could only be called Divine.
Was that being really who Ddraig claimed he was?
Her cheeks flushed slightly.
It would explain the level of seriousness her brother and Lady Serafall were displaying. Serafall spoke in a quiet tone to a frowning Sirzechs, while Azazel spoke to Baraqiel, both of them wearing grimaces.
The contrast was enough to give her whiplash.
The meeting had been serious before, but there was a certain air about it. Like the deed was already done and a new alliance had been made. She knew her brother well enough to tell that.
Then in the space of ten minutes, everything had changed. Maybe that was the change that she couldn't quite process.
That powerful energy that had made the air feel alive. The appearance of that powerful being who looked like he was her age. He was in the centre of this storm of changes. His mere presence was enough to flip the table and make every settled chess piece rise to air, its position to be forever changed.
However, she knew he wasn't young. Someone who had interrupted the meeting and stared down three Faction heads, obviously couldn't be her own age. Even then, she was feeling slightly disappointed that she wouldn't be able to speak to the admittedly ethereal man.
He had, after all, saved her and her Peerage and the other dignitaries present here. She had no doubt her brother would win against the enemies. She just wasn't sure if she and others would survive if he truly let go.
The Old Satan Faction had struck them quite unexpectedly as well, using Gasper to pause the assembled hosts of Devils, Fallen and Angels waiting outside. Before her brother could even move, the newcomer had just snapped his hands and obliterated the traitors. As if they were nothing, of as little worth as the dirt at the soles of his feet.
She had felt disturbed by his apathy. She frowned quietly, sending a look towards an equally disturbed Akeno. It was suffice to say that everyone present here has felt disturbed by that showcase of power.
The room was half-destroyed with an opening in the side of the building. The Fallen Angels gathered outside were shifting uncertainly, and the Angels were grouped up as well, acting like statues and not giving away anything as to what they were thinking.
It made the absence of Lord Michael and Lady Gabriel even more noticeable. Their soldiers were the only ones that had no one to command them.
Just what had happened?
She wanted to approach her brother, and ask the questions plaguing her mind, but the tense atmosphere and the presence of other Faction Leaders stopped her from doing so.
She wouldn't shame her family or her Faction in front of them, even if the fact that her brother hadn’t sent her a glance was sending stings of worry through her skin.
The fact the Angels were still here gave her a strange sort of solace. She hoped for peace between the three Factions, and one of them backing off from their side of the deal could inevitably lead to a war. Which she imagined would be imminent either way, if the Lord of Heaven was back from the dead, and desired revenge.
Her focus was broken as new magical circles started to form around the room and different but powerful figures came to join the leaders.
Whatever had happened was serious.
-{Shalba Beelzebub}-
The strategy centre was tense. That wasn't abnormal during such large-scale missions. However, now there was a stale air surrounding everyone. It smelled of decayed expectations and spoiled plans.
Maps were spread across the wooden table, many spots covered in black ink. There was one spot that was coloured crimson. The location where some of the strongest entities in the world would gather, and decide the fate of millions.
Their group had just one job. It was simple. They had to stop this meeting from reaching its conclusion.
Shalba Beelzebub stood at the head, his black armor gleaming in the torchlight, long brown hair falling past his shoulders.
Next to him, Creuserey Asmodeus frowned as he reviewed the attack plan again, his expression filled with cold and silent dread.
Around them were dozens of pure-blood devils waiting for their leaders to say anything. They were the Commanders of the Old Satan Faction, each one a fanatic believer wielding immense strength and influence. Yet, here they stood, with their breaths held back.
There was no longer a shred of arrogance on their face, their actions not befitting of those who wished for world domination. A goal that was engraved in Devil kind, even if the new Satans went about it in a different manner.
A manner that Old Satans wouldn’t have agreed with.
"The forces are in position," one commander reported. "Lady Leviathan is currently engaging with the three Faction leaders.”
“Have we heard word from her?” Creuserey questioned impatiently. He already knew they hadn't. That was what was worrying them all.
“No, my Lord.” A commander reported with a frown on his face.
Shalba's fingers drummed on the table. "Will all this be enough?"
The room went quiet.
"My lord?" A commander asked.
"The current Satans have allied themselves with other pantheons. The Fallen have grown stronger as well. And Heaven..." Shalba's jaw clenched. "Heaven weakened from the war, yes. But Michael is not to be underestimated. Not to mention, Gabriel would be there as well."
"We have Lady Ophis's power," another devil said. "With her snakes on our side, we will win, I am sure of it.”
"Still." Shalba turned to face them. "Kateria should have reported by now, I am afraid she’s not in a position to give the command for reinforcements. Which could mean she’s dead or captured.”
He let a breath that he had been holding on for longer than he would like to admit. This wasn't good.
“Damnation, I knew we shouldn't have trusted that whore to handle this. Send more reinforcements. I want overwhelming force. This treaty cannot happen, at any costs. If Heaven and the Fallen unite together… We need to eliminate at least one of the leaders. Preferably one of those fakers as well."
They all understood that killing a Satan was all but impossible, unless they managed to take their siblings hostage.
The plan had become exponentially harder, if they had already taken down Leviathan.
Even with their new… friends.
Creuserey nodded slowly. "A more deceitful path might have served us better. Infiltration. Assassination. Not this... direct assault."
"Too late for that now," Shalba said bitterly. The fault for this was for the Hero Faction to bear. They were the ones who suggested it to the Ouroboros. "We've committed to the plan now. With that accursed dragon on our side, our goals are still attainable. We will reclaim our race's true destiny. Destroying Heaven takes precedence. Then the Grigori. Finally, the world would kneel before the true Satans."
A cruel smile crossed Creuserey’s face.
"Perhaps," he mused out loud, "we should give our guests a visit. Our Angel prisoners should be able to give us the perspective we need on how to go about focusing Heaven’s gaze on more important matters.”
Shalba titled his head, and admitted in the privacy of his mind, that Creuserey was indeed an idiot.
“I doubt so, we’ve gained everything they know and they haven’t been reunited with their dear siblings since the Great War.” Shalba’s eyes twitched. “Are you sure that’s not an excuse to have some fun with them?”
Creuserey rolled his eyes but his creepy smile was still there. “I am merely suggesting that they might have a perspective on how to go about focusing the control of their own family.”
“I imagine so.” Shalba replied flatly.
“And I know you’ll probably enjoy convincing them as well, even with how broken they already are.” Shalba let out a small laugh. “See if they have anything left to give. Information. Suffering. Either works."
The devils around them subtly shifted, clearly uncomfortable as their leaders argued while their troops were potentially getting annihilated, but remained blank faced. They knew the consequences of interrupting them all too well.
One of them, however, smirked. Understandably so, since he was quite the horny fellow.
The Angel captives had been their prize for beyond hundreds of years. Hidden in the deepest parts of their stronghold and recently moved here after the new fakers took out their last base, and even managed to ‘free’ the Angels.
They were, of course, killed to suppress the backlash from Heaven.
Shalba nodded to himself, his demonic power coming to spread across his form, just to remind everyone how serious the current situation was.
"Forget about your urges for at least the scope of this mission. You can have your time pater. Anyway, Zythar! Send the orders," Shalba commanded. "Double the attack force. We move in—“
Suddenly everything changed.
Shalba was cut mid-sentence as the world around him pulsed, a tremor coming to wrack across his entire body and make him stumble forward. The best reaction besides Creuserey’s as the rest of the devils around them fell.
The torches went out.
Every single flame in the room extinguished at once.
Darkness swallowed them whol— No, that was the wrong description. It wasn't darkness swallowing them.
The light in the room was leaving them, as if it considered them unworthy of its touch.
Before they could even produce a sound, an unsurmountable pressure began spreading around the room.
Incomprehensible ramblings replaced the silence. Sounds he could only liken to the ones infants might produce if they were puking and crying at the same time.
Visions flashed in front of his eyes, and phantom sensations assaulted his body. He felt as if he was being stared in the darkness by all the souls he had ever hurt, as they forced him to live through the pain he so carelessly spread.
It wasn't even anything physical, and yet he fell, his knees crashing against the hard cold stone.
He couldn't tell because of the hallucinations, but the others also seemed to fall like him. Whatever had befallen them, this clearly wasn't the end.
The air itself changed.
It felt wrong, as it flowed around unnaturally, caressing them in spots that would have elicited shudders from them, if only they could move. He felt like a liquid was slipping down his body, too viscous to be sweat… It was like blood.
Despite the sensations, it was suffocating, as if the air refused to enter their body and give them a release.
Every instinct screamed at him to run. To flee. To get away from whatever this presence was.
But they couldn't fucking move.
What in Lucifer's name was happening?!
Shalba scrambled to resist. He still couldn't see, but he let loose his demonic power. He let it rage, not caring for the lives of his own subordinates.
Yet, there was no point in his struggle.
His breath turned into cold particles that froze mid-air. The darkness that normally filled his being with pleasure felt… different. Twisted and malicious.
All the devils were on the ground, unable to breath and desperately trying to look around for any signs of what was happening.
Then light flashed for a moment and the room was back to normal… for a second until the large grandiose double doors that were guarded by two High-class Devils disintegrated right in front of their eyes.
And walking in through the center of the doorway was a teenager. He had blonde hair, and hazel eyes that glowed with an inner radiance.
For some reason, his eyes crinkled with pain when he looked at him.
He wore simple clothes, hands in his pockets, expression completely calm. But the presence he was radiating made every devil in the room tense. It made them want to claw their way out of their own skin.
Shalba felt unusually cold, and yet warm. He looked down, and gasped.
There were hundreds of cuts at his arms, all bleeding.
"W-what..." one commander stammered.
Creuserey's eyes widened. "That power... that's not possible..."
He felt dark… but the power around him was light.
And yet his presence was sucking the heat out of the very air.
“State your name intruder!” A high-ranking Devil guard stated, followed by all of the guards within the room. That was soon followed by the side doors opening up and more devils pouring in.
All dressed black armour with red lines, signalling them to be the highest of guards.
The intruder merely raised a bored eyebrow, pointed his finger and the Devil who had asked the question turned into dust.
"Attack!" Shalba roared, snapping out of his shock. "Kill him!"
The room erupted.
The guards raised their weapons, magical circles forming. Dozens of magical circles appeared instantly. Fire. Lightning. Darkness. Ice. Every element the devils could muster launched at the intruder simultaneously.
The attacks converged, enough power to level a city block.
The blonde teenager flicked his hand, the blast of ice that had been freezing the very air further around it was bent and sent towards a guard who had opted to charge.
A barrage ensued, with the room being torn apart in mere seconds from a bombardment of high-class guards. The spells kept raining and quickly they found their mistake as the spells were sent back with surgical precision.
A fireball meant for the intruder's head curved mid-flight and slammed into the guard who'd cast it, incinerating a devil instantly. An ice lance reversed direction and impaled three devils standing in formation.
A lightning bolt redirected and became magnitudes stronger erupted into a cluster of guards, their screams cut short as electricity cooked them from the inside.
The massive chamber was being eviscerated and Shalba found himself taking steps back.
It was so abrupt.
The intruder had barely moved. He stood there, one hand raised, expression bored but with a hint of anger. Around him, the room descended into chaos. Guards scrambled.
Magic circles appeared and died. Debris from destroyed walls and ceiling crashed down. And through it all, he had remained untouched. A still point in the storm.
Creuserey's eyes widened as he watched another wave of attacks simply... stop. Mid-air. Frozen. Then they rotated slowly, aiming back at their casters.
This shouldn’t be underestimated.
High-class devils pouring all their demonic power into attacks could force ultimate class beings to be serious.
Shalba gritted his teeth, hand raising and the room filled with demonic power. He had let this go on too long. Perhaps this was a powerful newcomer to the Khaos Brigade trying to establish dominance.
Shalba didn’t care.
A blast of dark purple energy erupted from his fingers, accidentally catching a high-class devil by the nick of the arm and completely erasing him from the inside out.
The intruder regarded his dangerous attack and Shalba narrowed his eyes. The high class guards couldn’t handle him but his attack was far above that, he would be forced to act. Even the ultimate class would perish under its direct touch.
His hand lazily waved and the blast was trapped, shifting into a wave of energy that erupted out and killed all the guards rushing towards him with their weapons raised.
Shalba was blown back, his eyes wide.
“Who are you?!” Creuserey roared.
An alarm sounded and more devils came to their aid. At least fifty. All dressed in black armor with red lines. The highest tier of the Old Satan Faction's forces.
They formed ranks quickly, their swords and spears raised, magical circles activating.
Shalba's eyes darted between the unknown person and his forces. The intruder hadn't even looked at the new arrivals.
He was examining his fingernails. “Not going to retreat, alright then.”
“You think your act scares us?” Shalba asked with a sneer. “You’ve got strength, or perhaps an artefact that assists you. But at the end of the day numbers have their own advantage and you're our home child.”
“The definition of insanity,” The intruder said, while nodding his head to himself. “Is trying something repeatedly with the hope that something will change.”
The room erupted with action.
Dozens of magical circles activated simultaneously. All attacks coordinated in a way that none would interfere with the other, and even enhance and cover each other's openings.
One of them tried to flank the unknown being from the left. He didn't even turn. The guard's own shadow bore tendrils that teared through his chest.
Upon a closer look, it was just the dark wood that they grew around the base.
Another attempted a sneak attack from behind. His hand moved lazily. The guard's fire spell looped back and consumed him whole.
It was methodical.
The guards stopped attacking. They had to. A third of their original head count were either dead or in the process of dying. The survivors stood frozen, staring at the teenager who hadn't moved from his spot.
He lowered his hand. "Are you done?”
Shalba's teeth ground together. His pride screamed at him. This was humiliating. Some unknown brat was making fools of the Old Satan Faction's elite forces.
He raised his hand and called on even more power.
“Alright.” The intruder shrugged and the room filled with light power in a moment.
Death.
He felt it.
Shalba’s eyes widened and his gathered demonic power was poured into a barrier, further enhanced by the sigil of the Ouroborus.
An explosion erupted out, drowning all sound from the area and blinding him. He opened his eyes, and woke up to a world of pain.
His body was severely charred and he could hear his own flesh sizzling. He looked around, from his bleeding eyes.
There was nothing to look at. There were ringing sounds and sounds of stuff moving around. Yet, there was no one inside the room other than that monster, him and Creuserey.
The magical reinforcement magic that existed throughout the base flickered and rumbled.
Shalba gasped, trying to breathe and stood up quickly. He looked around, his expression dazed and vision blurry. Panic started to creep in and poison his mind.
The area for the old Satan faction was massive and that command room had been large, it was large and protected enough to house powerful devils who tended to finish disputes with violence.
The intruder didn’t seem to care for that.
Shalba looked around and realised he had been flung into a room behind that which led down to the dungeons. Ash began filling the area and for a moment the sound of their coughs along with the burning of fire could be the only sound that anyone could hear.
Two figures entered from a reinforced door at the back of the chamber.
They moved differently than the other guards. More confident. More dangerous. Their armor was purple and black, intricately designed with symbols of the original Satans. These weren't regular soldiers.
These were the Ultimate Class Lords. The last people who had been down in the dungeons.
Shalba only had four of them under his command, and even then he had to be careful of not being too disrespectful when talking to them.
Now two stood before him.
"What the fuck," Creuserey whispered, coughing and examining the burns on his arm. They weren’t healing, even when he splashed Phenex Tears over them in a panic.
“Go, don’t hold back even if you have to destroy the magical enforced walls. I want him dead.” Shalba commanded, scrambling up and removing the slags of metal that used to be armour.
It was that armour that had probably stopped him from outright dying. The thought sent shivers down the back of his spine.
They nodded, entering the room and going out of sight.
An explosion of demonic power occurred, a sudden pressure came to bear down on the area. However, it only lasted a second before a silence reigned over the area once more.
Shalba felt himself shiver once more.
He heard footsteps, devils from the lower levels came running up the stairs.
"Now!" Shalba screamed. "Use the Infinity Sigil! Now!"
The handful of devils seemed confused and in genuine shock at the state of the entire floor, multiple rooms were burning and the only reason that hadn’t spread were the enhanced walls.
As soon as the sounds of movement were heard, everyone present targeted the source and, without thought, unleashed a barrage of attacks.
The terrible being stepped through a hole in the wall casually. He then flicked his wrist.
Every single attack dispersed. They didn't redirect this time.
They just... stopped existing.
Vanished mid-air like they'd never been cast.
A muted horror dawned on him.
"Retreat!" Shalba commanded. "Fall back! Call for reinforcements!"
How could this happen?!
Who was this monster? The fact it was so obviously not trying was frightening and it didn’t escape his notice that they hadn’t truly performed an attack beyond the initial encounter, which had turned a high class devil into ash.
They ran. All of them. Their pride, all but forgotten. Fear had taken over completely.
This unknown blonde teenager had just casually deflected attacks that should have killed anything short of a Ultimate-class being, without even breaking a sweat.
Shalba and Creuserey led the charge toward the exit.
The massive doors were right there. Just a few more steps.
They hit a barrier.
Light erupted from thin air, forming a wall that burned on contact. Shalba jerked back, smoke rising from his hand. The light seared him like acid. His demonic flesh blistered instantly, the all too familiar pain returned with bloody vengeance, somehow hurting far more than before.
He looked around for any signs of an exit.
He saw none.
They were trapped.
"The prisoner corridor," Creuserey said urgently. "The back way. Through the cells. There’s another secret passage underground for moving our prisoners. If we go there and rally with the rest of the residents within the castle, surely they’ll notice and this intruder will be stopped.”
They weren’t friends with anybody admittedly but the Khaos Brigade was an alliance. An attack in the massive floating castle was an attacking on them as well,
They turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. Down the hallway. Past the war room. Toward the section where they kept their most valuable captives.
The door was already open.
Shalba skidded to a stop.
The teenager was there. Standing in the center of the prison block. Chains hung from the walls. Dried blood stained the floor. And huddled against the far wall was one of the Angel slaves.
A female angel was sobbing, black wings broken and bent behind her. Tears streamed down her face.
The teenager was stroking her head gently. Like comforting a wounded animal.
The Angel wept. Not from pain. From relief.
He kissed the crown of her head and his eyes, that had been calm before as if this was a chore he had to get done, were now frozen. There was nothing in those eyes. The previously Hazel eyes were now filled with a darkness so deep that Shalba felt like he would drown if those irises bore down directly onto him.
As if able to hear his worst fears, the intruder looked up. His glowing eyes locked onto Shalba and Creuserey.
And for the first time in centuries, Shalba Beelzebub, descendant of the true Beelzebub, felt terror.
The lips on that creature moved. They curved into a smile that was charming. Yet he didn't feel an ounce of relief at seeing that.
It didn't reach the orbs that he once assumed to be eyes.
A voice was carried over by the not-so-gentle wind. Each syllable caused bumps to appear all over his skin, and his hair to stand on their end.
“Not a good sign for you.”
Shalba ran.
He ran with all his demonic power infused into his body and even attempted to teleport, knowing it wouldn't work. He tried everything he could in a mere few seconds, his heart pounded so hard he could barely hear the screams behind him.
-{Elandriel}-
It had been an unknown amount of time since she had been captured. She had found it easier to stop counting after a few hundred years.
It was hopeless.
They had made sure to let her know that.
She wouldn’t be getting saved.
She was thought to have fell, so her family in heaven wouldn’t care for her. She would be just another Fallen Angel, and Grigori was hardly going to care for her.
She wasn't sure if they even knew that she existed.
In truth, once her Father’s death had been confirmed, she knew she had died. Alive in flesh, they had made sure of that, but dead in spirit and mind.
She was conscious, barely. The amount of times they had broken her just to put her back together was unaccountable. She was one of the only Angel prisoners, so whenever they got annoyed with Heaven it was her duty to take it.
Some would think that being a long lived being would make this easier… it had. She hadn’t broken and given up for the first 328 years precisely. After that, nothing really mattered anymore. She had given up what she had known, taking small comfort in knowing most of it probably wouldn’t have been of use.
She then locked off her own mind, to preserve the memories of Heaven that had been fading. To not acknowledge her wings that had turned black and ugly. To not even know of that accursed message that was announced by Lord Michael.
When in there, she could pretend that their Father wasn't dead.
Elandriel couldn’t allow herself to forget everything, but it had been happening. She could barely remember the sound of her Fathers voice or the kind words her sister Gabriel would offer them. Or her closest friend Raivel giggling about Tariel’s clumsy nature.
The thousands of memories of being bathed in the kindness and warmth of her family.
If she lost that, then nothing would truly matter anymore. She had realised that after 200 years. The day she learnt of it was the day when she failed to remember some of her close acquaintances in Heaven, their faces gone and replaced by the faces of her tormentors.
Oh her tormentors… they had changed a lot of times. She had been moved around a lot, sometimes even she believed she was an item.
The latest tormentors of her, were especially cruel. She didn't know how long it had been since she had seen light. She hadn't felt anything but the cold bite of the metal and the warmth of her own blood as it spilled out of her wounds.
They had insisted on using whips and knives of ice that froze the wounds, but left just enough of an opening to let out blood. They had even tried rubbing some magical herbs in her eyes and ears.
They wanted to hear her screams, but she wasn't sure if she was capable of producing one.
At least, those herbs had deafened and blinded her to a certain extent, even if not for long. She was almost happy about it, really. She would be closer to her Father in the confines of her mind, away from the sights or sounds of this cruel hell.
They would probably return and heal their broken doll, to see if she can make any new sounds.
It was all this that led to a lack of a reaction when an explosion made the building rumble.
Even when a young teenager came to stare at her she didn’t think much. She hadn't seen him till he had gotten so close that she felt his warm breath on her nape.
Instinctively, she parted her legs. Her rags for cloth, more humiliating than being named, shuffled and she was sure that now he would be able to vent away and leave.
Worst case scenario, he would ask for her participation in other manners, too depraved for her to even speak of them.
She had attended to thousands of those types. At first, she had thought of them as the worst. With time, she had found out that they were better than the ones who were interested not in extracting pleasure from her body, but instead inflict as much suffering as they can, to both her body and her soul.
She stared blankly at him, trying to see past the haze of her vision, wondering if he was a new Devil Heir, who had come down to join in the family tradition of her suffering. Or a guard who was being rewarded with the honor of violating her.
She decided to let him do whatever he wanted, and retreated back into her mind.
It was only when she was touched that a spark ran through her. It was familiar. As if long ago, she had felt that warmth. She opened her eyes wide, trying desperately to see.
She dug through her memories for hints. She didn't need to search far.
The recognition broke through the barrier she had put on her mind and her eyes lit up with the spark of consciousness after… She didn't know how long.
For the first time in hundreds of years, she truly longed to witness her surroundings.
That only lasted for moments as tears began welling up unbidden, pain, suffering and humiliation mixing together to form the most bitter brew she had ever tasted. The thousands of words used to increase her suffering and the masterful evil performed by the Devils came to the forefront of her consciousness.
Only for it to be beaten back by his soft touch and the look in his eyes.
All doubts about this being an illusion shattered when she heard herself utter his identity.
“Father.” She croaked, the action sending lances of pain through her throat, something she chose to ignore. She had long lost her voice, despite getting it back countless times as well.
It felt so right, calling his name out after centuries. It felt soothing just to utter it out loud, so soothing indeed that it overpowered the pain she felt.
“Don’t say anything.” He whispered comfortingly and wrapped her in a hug that soothed her very soul. “You don’t need to.”
Light formed and her entire body was consumed in light, the pain that had become normal faded and the scars that littered her body vanished. The chains and shackles, ones she had found a disturbing comfort in, vanished as well and she could only remain cuddled into her fathers warm body, as her own gave up.
Everything felt better in that moment.
Perhaps she had finally died.
Maybe Father had come to lead her into the afterlife with him.
In that case, she was sad it hadn’t happened sooner.
-{Kai}-
My pupils spun, as the red spinning wheel faded back into the brown ember eyes that I was used to.
I needed to calm down.
Quite frankly, I was going to end up destroying a lot of things if I didn’t. The aura around me would be sending alarm bells to all the Factions in existence if I was in the mortal world.
That would be before the world was crushed under my power. The rage that entered me was vicious and I quickly teleported away, keeping the small Angel cuddled into me.
I had expected a lot.
But perhaps it was my own naivete that had led me to forget the type of beings the old Satan faction were. It was that lack of mental preparation that made it even harder to keep a lid on my emotions.
My hands shook and I had to feel the warmth of this poor soul to not start burning away anything that had dared to touch her. Visions of Uriel and Aurel overlapped with her broken body.
I had failed again. It was illogical to feel so, but I still did.
I had been walking through these fodder with ease, keeping them separated from the various powerful beings within the massive miles-spanning castle with a powerful barrier.
It had been a small sense that had led me down into the lower section.
There, I found a Fallen Angel.
I had been confused, before I was assaulted by the tangible feeling of her pain and what she had gone through, an Angel that had been forced into becoming a Fallen Angel through torture.
In that moment I had forgotten everything else, looking through her mind, and finding not a person, but hundreds of broken shards. I saw as they did their worst, each memory burning a hole through my heart.
She was captured near the end of the war. A time when all three factions were desperately trying to cause more damage to the other two, in order to minimise their own loss. The Fallen had all but retreated, being the first to give up.
The Devils and Angels? They didn't give up. They fought for long after the death of their leaders. She had been captured and tortured for information. Even then she had defied her captors but not given over the information she had until it was all but useless, with the war being over.
She had survived, with hopes that someone would come to save her, after the war ended.
I had nearly destroyed everything, as I heard the painful sound of her crying and screaming as it never happened.
Maybe I should just destroy this place where my Angel was defiled.
I let out a shaky voice, patting her soft head, full of thin gray hair.
It took an entire ten minutes like that, comforting myself. When I finally I blinked and looked around. Only to be met with a void.
Ah.
The dimensional gap.
Whoops.
I had randomly teleported myself away, the mere sight of that general area enraged me beyond words. The Devils better hoped they didn’t have a single noble partaking in something like this. Or I was going to crucify them.
Again, I let out another breath.
It’s fine now, what her captor was going through was a thousand times worse. It would be for the rest of eternity.
She’s safe.
That left me with an uncomfortable question. Was she the only one?
My power lit up like a star and for a moment, the void wasn’t a void but beacon of light and power that I allowed to rage, even if for just a moment. Reality broke away as even the rippling space-time fabric of Dimension Gap started to vibrate unusually.
Then I calmed once more, rubbing the back of the Angel attached to me like a koala. She was lost in her own world, a look of bliss and happiness that I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.
I tried to smile, though it must have looked hollow.
That left what to do for my next objective.
I had only left the other residents of the khaos brigade alive since I didn’t really have any problems with them yet, like that Nekoshou I had met on my way in.
Naturally, I hoped my little message was enough to give them a good warning of what would happen if they did.
I should probably head back to Heaven.
I had a meeting to attend in three hours so I still had time to kill.
Heaven had some issues that needed to be sorted like my original world and if I was planning on expanding my empire. Coming here had been unexpected but I certainly wasn’t against it.
It was proving easier already with my power.
I thought about my Arch-Angels, which now extended to this world.
I’m sure everyone would be overjoyed to extend the family in such a manner. Even if I could see a particular someone become… rather jealous of her own self. Or her clone? I wasn't exactly sure how these alternate realities are supposed to function.
Anyway, there was much to be done first.
The Devils and Fallen were included in that…
I snapped out my shock, feeling a presence appear in my general area. I felt it as it slowly made its way towards me and I turned, finding myself staring at a small chubby red dragon.
It’s two yellow eyes staring at me curiously.
“What are you doing out little guy?” I questioned, looking at the small Dragon.
The Dragon blinked.
I vanished and reappeared in front of it, careful not to jolt my cuddling Angel. I picked the chubby little Dragon up. It looked confused, as if my act went against what it could have ever conceived.
“No parents huh?” I asked, looking around. “Not any good ones if they are letting a little adorable thing like you wander around.”
The Dragon was stunned.
I patted the small dragon on the head.
The little dragon continued to stare at me like I'd just spoken an alien language. Its yellow eyes were wide, almost comically so.
"What? You don't want to come?" I shifted it in my arms, making sure not to disturb my Angel who was still sleeping peacefully against my shoulder. "I promise I'm a good caretaker. I've got experience with... well, Angels mostly, but how different can a dragon be? I mean, Angels are much more needy, especially Gabriel. As long as you aren't like Tiamat, it should all be fine.”
The dragon's mouth opened slightly.
"See? You're already warming up to me." I smiled and scratched under its chin. The scales were surprisingly warm. "You're pretty cute for a dragon. Like a little flying potato."
Something flickered in those yellow eyes.
Offense, maybe? It was hard to tell.
No, I imagine it was just not used to such compliments.
"Don't give me that look. It's a compliment. Everyone loves potatoes." I adjusted my hold, supporting its weight with one arm while keeping Gabriel secure with the other.
The Dragon seemed to choke.
I snickered and became thoughtful.
"Now, I'm going to need to come up with a name for you. Can't just keep calling you 'little guy' forever."
The dragon made a sound again.
A sort of strangled wheeze.
I pat it on the back, just in case it was choking.
"I know, I know. Naming things is hard. But don't worry, I'll think of something good." I started walking, the dragon still held securely in my grip. "What about… Potato? No, that's stupid. Ruby? You are red. Maybe something more fearsome? I’m sure you’ll become the strongest Dragon under me, my Potato Dragon. No, that doesn’t work. Hmm..."
The dragon's expression was doing something interesting. If I didn't know better, I'd say it looked like it was going through an existential crisis.
"Oh! What about Crimson? That sounds cool and dignified." I nodded to myself, but paused. "Hmm, it sounds too similar to that idiot sis-con. How about Red, though? That works, right? it’s not that creative but I find simple names can often be more intimidating than overly complex ones."
The dragon's head tilted slowly.
Like it was processing something it couldn't quite comprehend.
-{Kuroka}-
Kuroka was scared.
They had been trained to react to all sorts of sounds. She would have called their trainer racist, but he trained them all through the same methods, as if they all were cats.
They said it was important, Vali said it was useless. He said they would never hear it after the training. After all, only an idiot would start any of the scenarios where they were required. For example, infiltrating into the base of Khaos Brigade.
Only someone insane would dare to intrude on the home of Khaos, right?! After all, it was also home to some of the most dangerous people alive.
She could still hear the sound of the emergency alarm, reserved for infiltration warnings. She shouldn't have doubted the quantity and scope of madness and insanity.
She sat up, her cat ears twitching as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Her senjutsu flared instinctively, scanning for immediate threats in a large area. Nothing close to her was a problem.
But something felt wrong.
She moved to the window and looked out.
Ash.
Floating in the sky like snow. It began filling up the area and pressing against the barrier that led to the outside dimensional gap. It was thick enough to obscure parts of the massive castle.
"What the hell nya!?" Kuroka muttered, her slitted eyes blinking.
Looking at what was in front of her, she could only begin to regret her life choices.
Living with a bunch of egomaniacs that had too much power was eventually bound to go wrong, she had thought the Dragon Of Infinity would be enough of a warning though.
Since had seen as she simply snapped any annoyance out of reality.
She bolted from her room, bare feet silent on the stone floor.
Her senjutsu spread out, searching for the source of the disturbance. At least she had something to do while Vali was away playing double agent with the Fallen Angels.
There. The old Satan Faction's territory. The entire section was lit up with powerful residual magic and... fire?
Kuroka's curiosity pulled her forward. She ran through the corridors, leaping over debris that shouldn't have been there. The castle's defenses were legendary.
Multiple layers of barriers, wards strong enough to deflect godly attacks. Yet as she got closer, the damage became impossible to ignore. The walls were scorched black. Entire sections of corridor had collapsed.
The smell of burnt flesh and demonic energy hung thick in the air.
She rounded the corner into what used to be the main hall of the Old Satan Faction's wing.
Her eyes widened.
It was gone. Not damaged. But actually gone.
Multiple floors had simply ceased to exist.
A massive crater had been carved through the structure, revealing open sky above and the levels below. Fire still burned in patches, consuming what remained.
The entire mansion could withstand attacks from Satan-class beings. She'd seen it tested. The barriers alone required ultimate-class power just to scratch.
This... this was beyond that.
Kuroka jumped to a stable section of floor, scanning the area. Her senjutsu swept across the devastation and she froze.
Bodies. Dozens of them. No, more than that.
Scattered across what remained of the hall, the adjoining rooms, the collapsed stairwells, were bodies. Guards in black and red armor. Some burnt beyond recognition. Others crushed under debris. A few looked untouched except for the fact they weren't breathing.
She looked on with slight curiosity and caution.
"Just what happened here?" She questioned curiously.
She moved carefully, stepping over corpses and avoiding unstable sections of floor. The battle had been recent. Some of the fires were still burning hot enough to make her keep her distance.
Her feet carried her forward before she consciously decided to move. Through a doorway that had been blown completely off its hinges. Down a hall where the walls had melted.
And into a space that made her breath catch.
The area was massive. Or it had been. Now it was just... empty. Multiple floors were simply gone. Obliterated. Like something had erased them from existence.
And in the center, standing impossibly upright despite the destruction around it, was a cross.
Two bodies hung from it.
Kuroka's senjutsu screamed at her to run.
To get away. But she couldn't move.
Power flared in the air, a massive sealing matrix covered the floor. One that hurt to look at with her eyes and actually seemed to burn her spiritually when she tried to sense it.
She felt her senses scream in terror and for the first time in a while felt shaken, her skin turned even paler and she trembled.
She knew that armor. Black with subtle detailing. The long brown hair, matted with blood and ash. And the perverted bearings of the one besides.
Shalba Beelzebub, and Creuserey Asmodeus.
Two of the three leaders of the Old Satan Faction.
His body was ruined. Burns covered his torso. His armor had been shattered in places. But it was his face that made Kuroka's stomach turn. The expression was in agony, somehow he was alive but his face was burnt, and married with a massive seal.
Just like Creuserey Asmodeus, his fellow ruler. Her eyes fell on the seal again, and she was able to gleam some information about them.
It was a seal that seemingly kept melting their skin and then… regenerating their bodies? It was keeping them alive… just to hurt them?
Another seal caught her eye, emitting a sense of pain. It made her ears flatten and forced her to take a step back.
A seal to enhance pain.
They weren't dead, they were just in so much pain that he couldn’t even exist properly. There was no scream, just pure agony on his visage. The cross was going directly through their spines and had been left in a brutal state.
The entirety of the Old Satan Faction… had been erased?
Without anyone noticing?
It was a joke, something that shouldn’t be able to happen.
Powerful beings resided here, even if they were above the ultimate class it shouldn’t be able to be hidden from everyone.
The savage display felt raw and she could feel rage in the air, enough that made her shrink back. There was another strange thing she could sense, one that made her tails stand ramrod.
There was chakra in the air, and in the pathway of Shalba and Creuserey.
Just who had done this?
She quickly fled for her life, her heart pounding out of her chest and a sense of fear that overlapped anything she had felt before consuming her. Whatever had happened she wanted nothing to do with it.
Kuroka didn’t even want to speak about it. Just in case that there was a small chance the being who had done this even came to beware of her existence.
-END-
Note: sorry for the delay, seraphic will be coming out tomorrow. I’ve been extremely ill for the past week and barely able to write.
Thought I’d get this posted so you don’t have to wait too long. Like I’ve been doing lately.
Let me know if you wish to see this continue and I hope you enjoy.
Comments
Daniel Foley
Hey Snipez, When will 'What If: God’s Arrival P4' be coming out? Thanks
Lord Belly
I’m loving this personally I definitely wanna see more
Kan Davasi
Firstly, I hope you rest well and feel better soon! Secondly, this omake story has been amazing so far and I’m very eager for the next chapter, keep up the great work!
Ismail Öztürk
Lmao red the strongest potato dragon in the world. I hope the next chapter comes quick i cant wait for him to talk with the other leaders. It seems like Kai is in a diffrent world in terms of Power.
