Chapter 7
To their credit, they did not run when Nidhogg's gargantuan form materialized into existence. Thick and heavyset, the dragon's body was draped with jagged spikes and horned obtrusions, a mass of serrated spines that started from its shoulders and ended with the tip of its whip-like tail. Claws twice the length of a man's arm clutched at the earth, carving deep, winding fissures in the dirt with the barest of movements. A long, serpentine neck carried the menacing skull, the scaled snout filled to the brim with wicked, curved teeth. Crimson pupils glared at them, and as the dragon extended to its fullest height, those eyes fastened on to Rias and her group in malicious delight.
And then it spoke, and the voice that entered his mind, all of their minds, was akin to the rumbling tremble of a small earthquake.
So. This is What You Have Chosen for Your Replacement Brood.
Those words were meant for him.
He frowned.
It was an unfair assumption, in his opinion. He hadn't chosen at all. He was not sure what they were to him, but they certainly weren't replacements. Nothing could replace the bonds he had made with SEES.
Nidhogg knew what his thoughts were before they even finished forming. The Persona might have manifested, but the source of its power was still rooted within his psyche. Its eyes flickered to him, and there was a dark, taunting amusement hidden behind them.
You Could Have Chosen Better. Then Again, it is an Improvement Over the Last Bunch.
He wanted to argue that. Mentally, at least. The dragon didn't give him a chance to. Its heavy body moved with deceptive grace, and though the ground trembled with every step, the ease at which it took those steps was utterly inhuman. It stopped only when it reached its destination, the group of clustered figures dwarfed by its immense size. A snarl of contempt ripped from its jaws as it gazed down.
Where is the Substitute for the Cap Wearing One? His Mind May have been Empty but His Antics were Amusing.
That… was an interesting depiction of Junpei.
At Least There is no Dog. That Mutt and its Incessant Barking Made Me Want to Kill Something.
Ah, Koromaru. He hadn't realized how much he missed that pup. The dragon let out a deep snarl.
I do Believe I Wanted to Eat Him.
Well, that did explain why the canine would tuck his tail between his legs and whimper whenever Nidhogg was summoned. Sometimes animals knew more about Personas than humans ever could.
The dragon's head lowered, its long neck brunching as coiled muscles did their work. Its snout stopped bare centimeters from the chests of Rias and her peerage.
Devils. Every Single One of You. Perfidious and Treacherous by Nature. Yet I Sense No Evil Amongst You. How Curious.
It sniffed at Rias. The sudden intake of air caused the devil's hair to flap wildly about her face.
This One Smells of Fear and Desperation, and is Perhaps a Bit Deluded.
The dragon turned its attention to the black-haired girl by Rias's side. Both were commendably stoic as jaws the length as they were tall swayed from side to side in front of them.
This One Reeks of Depravity and Fantasy, and is all the More Perverted.
It moved on to the tall figure of Kiba, who was fighting hard to keep his face impassive.
And What of this One? Is that the Rancid Tang of Regret I Taste in the Air? How Exquisite. The One Behind You is Not Bad Smelling Either. For a Beast.
Koneko flinched from her spot hidden behind Kiba. Nidhogg did not deign her worthy of a second glance and moved on to the last member of their party.
And You. There is Something Different About You.
Remarkably, Asia did not seem perturbed at all as the dragon regarded her with a clinical eye.
The Stench of a Human. It Lingers, Fleeting and Ephemeral, but it is There. Yet You are Unmistakably a Devil. How did You Come to be this Way, May I Ask?
"I was once a human," the girl looked down, "I was only recently resurrected as a devil."
A Devil Resurrection? Now that is Interesting. Where I Come From, Devils do not Resurrect. They Kill and Leave You for Dead.
A serpent-like tongue snaked out, testing the air. Its owner dipped its skull until one bulbous eye was level with the former priestess's.
You are a Small One, Yet I Sense that You are Unafraid. Tell Me, have You Seen One of My Kind Before?
Asia shook her head demurely.
Then Where does Your Courage Spring From, Devil Who Was Once Human?
"You are Angel-san's dragon," the girl said simply, "and Angel-san won't let you hurt us."
There was confidence in those words that made even him blink.
Nidhogg reared back and laughed. The sound was like distant thunder, discordant and jagged, rich with scornful derision.
Angel, She Says. Lovely Title.
It stared at the girl from its immense height and leered.
If You Knew What Demons Clings to His Mind Then You Would Not be so Quick to Call Him that Name.
Rias shot him an alarmed look. He ignored it. The dragon was already moving, the ground shuddering with each heavy step. It stopped before Issei's kneeling form. A wayward swipe from its tail annihilated a swathe of trees, swatting them aside like they were nothing, uprooting them as though they were mere weeds. All of them winced, but had not the courage to mention it.
The serpentine neck lowered, and with it, the head, descending majestically until its white-streaked snout was almost touching the boy's chest.
And You are Perhaps the Most Curious of All. I Smell the Scent of the Crimson Emperor on Your Body, yet I do not Recognize His Power. It has Become Far too Diluted.
Issei looked up to the reptilian visage in surprise. He regretted that decision when the dragon huffed and a cloud of ice vapor blasted into his face.
He has been Shackled. There are Chains Wrapped Around His Soul, and Perhaps a Few Around His Mind as Well. Am I Wrong?
The boy lifted the armored gauntlet still attached to his hand.
"My Sacred Gear-"
There is Nothing Sacred About that Weapon.
Issei winced, but did not waver. Nidhogg reared back, its reptilian pupils affixed to Boosted Gear as though it was something mildly disgusting.
It is a Prison. A Prison Painted in Crimson and Forged in Steel, but a Prison Nonetheless. A Prison Most Foul and Blasphemous, yet a Prison it Remains.
Great muscles bundled and rippled across the immense body, flexing under its scaled hide as it moved. The dragon began prowling, circling around the boy like an immense predator would do to a prey.
And When did You Receive this Prison and the Power Contained Within? Did You Earn it with Some Noteworthy Deed? I Think Not. You were Given it. Given it! Power Should Never be Given! It Should be Earned!
Wrath had lit up in Nidhogg's eyes, and fury had taken hold of its gargantuan form, its massive, spiked body quivering with rage.
This is What Happens When You Let Devils and Angels Meddle in This World! They Give Out Power Freely! Recklessly! As if it was Theirs to Give!
Those last few words were hissed out, literally spat out from the its mouth. The great beast turned its attention to Issei once more, the spiked head dipping as it lunged for its target. The jaws were opened this time.
And How has this Power Translated? A Fledgling Cannot Survive a Hurricane yet You Throw Yourself Against its Whipping Winds. A Ship Does Not Sail into the Teeth of the Storm yet You Would Test its Hull Against the Tempest Squall.
The dragon snapped shut its maw at the last second, scant inches from the boy's face, forcing him to fall flat on his rear. And then it was rising, the long, thick neck extending upwards, the skull along with it, until it finally stopped and towered above them all.
Did You Really Think You Could Defeat Me? Did You Really Think You Could Best Nidhogg, the Ice Drake!?
The anger was still there, but it was controlled, leashed tightly behind its snarling visage, shimmering beneath its eyes. Somehow that made the dragon seem even more dangerous.
My Teeth are Swords! My Claws are Spears!
For emphasis, it raised a taloned limb and pounded it into the ground. When it raised it again, all could see the crater that had been left behind, and the spider web of fissures that spread from the edges.
My Breath is the Freezing Chill of the Arctic North!
It turned its head aside, and from the dragon's unhinged jaws a blast of ice seared out, spreading over the forest and turning a kilometer-wide expanse of foliage into frozen statues and lifeless rime.
My Wings are a Hurricane!
Great reptilian pinions stretched out, unfurling to their fullest extent. Immediately they were buffeted by immense gales of chilling wind, a whirlwind of hissing, biting air that gnawed at their skin and left their hairs standing end-on-end. The force knocked Issei onto his back, and the rest of Rias's peerage fared no better. Most of them were been sent to their knees, their bodies unwilling to stand against such a tumultuous storm. He did not share their condition. He had expected Nidhogg to do something similar and had entrenched his feet firmly into the ground when the dragon had extended its wings.
And then the storm stopped, as abruptly as it started, and when they recovered it was to see the dragon's wings sheathing themselves across its back and to see it prowling towards Issei once more. Its lips were curled back, revealing sharp, serrated teeth and the look in its eyes promised a most fitting violence.
My Ire is the Death of Men.
As though responding to that veiled threat, Boosted Gear began to glow dimly, the green jewel on its back flashing weakly as the immense bulk that was the dragon loomed closer.
Nidhogg noticed and a contemptuous growl rumbled from its throat.
So. The Great Welsh Finally Speaks. What is He Saying to You, Whelp? What Words of Wisdom does He Offer from His Gilded Cage?
He observed that Issei seemed stunned. The boy looked down to where his gauntlet rested, as though if he couldn't believe the words he was hearing.
"He is saying…" the devil began hesitantly, then stopped, his eyes growing wide, "…He is saying you are an Evil Dragon."
Evil? Now that is an Interesting Choice of Words. If I am Evil, then What are You, Devil? You Who Hold the Enslaved Soul of a Dragon and Wield His Power as Your Own?
Issei shook his head at the implication, his eyes wide.
Did You Think Ddraig Chose to be Imprisoned? Did You Think the Great Welsh Willingly Let Himself be Chained to that Accursed Weapon?
Nidhogg leered at him, crimson pupils alight with malevolent glee.
They Didn't Tell You, Did They?
The target of its ire could only stare back.
Of Course They Didn't. That is What Angels and Devils Do. They Plot and Scheme. They Connive and Manipulate. And it is Mortals like You Who are Left to Pick Up the Pieces When They are Done.
Issei concentrated on his Boosted Gear again, and he could see the gauntlet's gem flashing muted shades of green in response.
"He is saying…" the boy's features gradually set as he listened to the power within the Gear, and when he looked up it was with the same defiance he had possessed when he knelt with the black claw in his face, "Ddraig is saying he is at peace in here, and that I shouldn't listen to anything you have to say."
That is What I Would Say Too if I spent Centuries of My Existence Locked Behind a Prison.
Issei didn't reply to that. The dragon let out a chuckle that was more akin to a growl than a laugh.
And What of the Great Welsh Himself? He Presumes to Lecture Me on Evil When He has Killed the Most of All? Ask Him How Earned the Title of the Crimson Emperor. Ask Him Whelp, and See if He Tells You of the Days of Old when Men Rightfully Feared the Name of Ddraig and the Fire He Brought.
The boy looked like was about to protest, but then Boosted Gear flashed again, though there was something subdued about it, as if it was admitting to a deed it wished was long forgotten.
Its wearer's face gradually set into a grim expression.
"He says he regrets what he did back then," Issei said softly.
I am Sure the People He Killed and the Villages He Set Ablaze are Grateful for His Regret.
The boy flinched at the dragon's sardonic drawl. He glared down at the crimson glove, and there was something akin to recrimination in his eyes.
And Now You are Beginning to Understand. There is No Such Thing as Good or Evil. There is Only Power. Power that You have Inherited. Power that You are Wasting. You Could Be Spending Time Unlocking Your Weapon's Full Potential, But Instead You Choose to Hurl Yourself into Fights You Cannot Win.
The devil blinked up towards the monster, not comprehending.
Do Not Act so Surprised. I Know of the One Who Made that Weapon and the Way He has Set it to Work. His Power Dwarfs Mine But for All His Might His Methods are still Loathsomely Predictable. Such is the Nature of Heaven. Rigid and Unbending.
Nidhogg snorted. Twin columns of frost emitted from its nostrils like steam.
You are Rash, Whelp. You are Young and Your Fire Burns Hot. The Great Welsh had the Same Fire, but He Tempered that with Cunning and Unbreakable Will. You Must Do the Same.
The dragon opened its jaws and snapped them towards its quarry once more. The object of its taunting did not fall back this time. He did not flinch or wince. He stood his ground and in response, something very close to approval flickered in Nidhogg's eyes.
Harness Your Rage into Purpose. Bend Your Hatred into Resolve. Listen Well to the Words He Whispers into Your Ear, And Perhaps One Day You will be Worthy of the Title of the Dragon You Hold in Your Arm.
Issei looked down at the crimson gauntlet that was still sheathed around his limb. The green jewel gleamed dimly back. Determination crept onto the devil's face. He smiled thinly. Chidori's sacrifice had hardened Junpei to become the team member SEES needed him to be. He was witnessing the same happening to Issei, though it was a different way of hardening.
"Thank you," the devil said finally, "…I think," he looked up hesitantly, "But why are you helping me? How do you know Ddraig?"
Nidhogg lifted its head. The dragon was reminiscing. He knew because the flurry of images that passed through the beast's conscience assailed his mind with equal vigor. Just as a Persona knew what the thoughts of its master were, so true was the opposite as well.
I was Once a Fire Drake from the North. A Mighty Dragon of Fire and Flame with Scales of Crimson to Match. Just like Ddraig. Yet for all My Might, the Great Welsh was still the Stronger Dragon, the Fiercer Fire, and Many were the Battles I Lost to Him.
A snarl of hatred erupted from its gargantuan maw as it recalled a particular humility it had been forced to endure.
In My Quest for Vengeance I Flew to the Lands of My Ancestors, and There, Amidst Freezing Storms and Howling Winds I Dug into the Earth until I Discovered the Roots of the World Tree. I Devoured Them. I Ate from the Soul of Yggdrasil and Partook in the Power of the World.
The blood-red pupils darted in their sockets, burning with bestial intelligence, fixating on each of them in turn.
The Time I Spent Consuming the Roots of Yggdrasil was Not Kind to Me. The Perpetual Darkness that Surrounded Me in My Burrowed Lair Turned My Scales Black as Night. The Winter Cold that Raged Above Me Dimmed My Fire Until Only Ice was Left. The Elements Changed My Very Nature. No More was I Nidhogg, the Fire Drake, but Nidhogg, the Dragon of Frost and Rime.
The dragon smirked at Issei's expression. Its serpentine tongue snaked out and caressed the row of fangs jutting from its upper jaw.
I May have Lost My Identity, but the Strength I Gained More than Made Up for that. The World Tree Fed Me Immense Power and Finally I was Ready to Face Ddraig and Avenge all the Wrongs He had Done on to Me.
Nidhogg's eyes dilated with sudden fury, and when it next spoke, its voice was low with barely restrained wrath.
Now Imagine My Surprise when I Emerged, Expecting a Battle Worthy of Song and Legend, to Discover that Ddraig had Long Ago been Sealed Away. Imagine My Anger when I Found Out My Chance for Vengeance had been Denied to Me by Powers Above My Control. Imagine My Rage when I Realized I had Forsaken My Identity and It. Had. All. Been. For. Nothing.
The fury became malevolence. The images that flashed into his head became sundered castles and crumbled citadels, their occupants trapped in tombs of frozen hoarfrost. The dragon leered at its audience.
The Realms of Men Learned that Day that Ice Burns Just as Well as Fire.
The spiked skull swayed towards Issei again, and the leathery snout sank until it hovered above the arm that held Boosted Gear.
But that was All in the Past. Many were the Years I Spent Searching for the Great Welsh and at Last I have Found Him. Chained to a Devil, Weakened to a Most Pitiful State, But Nevertheless He is Here. Ddraig, My Old Enemy. My Quest for Vengeance has Finally Come Full Circle.
Nidhogg's gaze bore into the crimson gauntlet, as though by merely staring at it could cause the presence within it to manifest.
All Things Must Come to an End. Such is the Way of the World. One Day the Bars Holding Ddraig will Fall. That Might be Tomorrow. Or It Could Be a Hundred Years From Now. It Matters Not. I am a Patient Being. I have Waited Centuries to Test My Might Against the Crimson Emperor. What is a Few More Decades Compared to That?
The dragon rose for the last time. Its claws dug into the earth, finding purchase so that the massive wings could extend fully again.
One Day Ddraig will be Free and I will be There to Greet Him. I will Congratulate Him on His Freedom and then I will Sink My Teeth into His Neck. Once More We will do Battle like the Days of Yore.
It smiled down at them.
And It will be Most Glorious.
Deep laughter followed, and then the dragon was gone, fading away, dissipating into nothingness the same time he felt its presence receding from his conscience. He shook his head to clear the backlash from his mind and began to make his way to the figure that had borne most of the beast's ire. He reached him and offered a hand. Issei grasped it and hauled himself up. He took note that the boy seemed a bit shell-shocked.
"Was that supposed to be a lesson?" the devil asked him after he managed to regain some of his wits.
No, but if he took it to be one, then that was fine as well.
"If it was," Issei smiled hesitantly at him, "I think it worked."
Good. He hated to think the show of power had gone to waste.
"There might be a small problem though," the boy sounded remorseful.
His lips drew into a tight line. A small problem?
"When I managed to land a punch on you," Issei lifted the armored gauntlet, "I might have expended a little bit more power than I meant to."
And?
The devil scratched at the back of his head.
"Ddraig told me my Sacred Gear might have temporarily lost the ability to Boost."
That certainly was bad. But temporarily did not mean permanently. If the boy waited for a few days, and the latest a week, everything would be back to normal again. He was sure of it.
He was about to make mention of that fact when Issei abruptly turned to face him. The devil looked extraordinarily sheepish, as though realizing he had done something drastic that he probably shouldn't have done.
"About that…" Issei swallowed, "The Rating Game Buchou has scheduled is the day after tomorrow."
Oh.
In the end, it had been a marriage contract that made Rias request his presence in their training session. A marriage contract she had hoped to fight through a Rating Game. It explained why the girl had been so persistent of late in trying to recruit him, and why her attempts had been tinged with desperation. Her situation bore an uncanny resemblance to Mitsuru's, though with the heiress, she had always had a choice. She had initially made the wrong choice, believing that her happiness would always be tied with the well-being of the KirijoGroup, but the choice had still been there. Rias had no such good fortune. Mitsuru could have said no to her prospective fiancé at any time and eventually did, refusing to bow to the demands of the executives of her conglomerate. Rias did not. She did not even have the dignity of making the wrong choice.
He sympathized with her. And as he stood amongst her peerage, watching Issei lying on the ground being tended to by Asia, he wondered if perhaps his impression of her, of all of them, had been biased from the very start.
They were not bad people.
They were devils, not demons, and although he had made that distinction when they first revealed themselves to him, there had always been a niggling doubt in his mind about what their true intentions were. The doubt was still there, but it was diminishing with every passing day.
The disparity bothered him. The demons in his mind were powerful beings and utterly unmerciful. What they wanted they took. What they coveted they stole. If they were the ones pressing him for peerage, they would have found far more devious ways of doing it. But Rias had not done that. She was a high level devil, and no doubt possessed many of the powers he was familiar with. Yet her requests, while sometimes annoying, had always been honorable, always been transparent. And if he was honest with himself, some of those attempts had been genuinely amusing. She had always given him a choice in the matter, and always respected his choice, even if it meant it was to her disadvantage.
That was more than he could say about demons, who knew no such thing as respect for humans, or even angels, who understood respect, but nevertheless ignored it when it suited their goals.
Devils, not demons. More and more he understood the difference, and more and more he found himself respecting them for that difference. Nidhogg had made mention of that, sneering as it proclaimed them to be his brood. There were some truth in those words, but that was the thing about dragons. They had always been cryptic creatures, and spurned the wheel of Fate as powerful beings had every right to do.
Just like him.
"If you had told me this from the beginning," he said impassively, "things would not have ended up this way."
"I understand," Rias said primly from her position kneeling by Issei's side, "and I regret not doing so. At the time, however, I believed the marriage proposal was an issue that was only relevant to my peerage. I did not want to mingle the proposal with my efforts to recruit you. That would have been unbecoming of me. I wanted you to join my peerage on your own accord, not because it is something you feel you are forced to do."
She had no idea how much his opinion of her rose after that. But he didn't tell her that, of course.
"Still, if you had told me, I would have acted with more restraint."
"Restraint he says," Kiba seemed a bit put out, "He summons an Evil Dragon and then talks to us about restraint," the sword-user shook his head, and he noticed the boy's eyes were slightly wild, "I'm sorry, but am I the only one freaked out about this? As in 'how in the world am I still alive' freaked out?"
"I was a bit afraid," Asia admitted from Issei's other side, "when the dragon opened its mouth and headed towards Hyoudou-san."
"A bit afraid?" Kiba retorted, "It nearly ate him! It nearly ate us!"
"Oh, hush Yuuto," Akeno smiled, "It smelled you. That's hardly eating."
There was an uncertainty in her eyes though, and he could tell the older girl was still somewhat shaken.
"I do not believe Angel-san would have allowed his dragon to eat us," Asia added in. It was rather endearing, her confidence in him. It would be far more endearing if she stopped calling him by that name.
Kiba sighed when he realized no one shared the same degree of apprehension.
"We are going to have to keep this a secret, aren't we?"
"Yes," Rias nodded, "Dragons are immensely powerful beings, and their existence always brings attention, most often the wrong sort."
"Hmm," Akeno hummed, "I wonder if that's because our Buchou is genuinely afraid for Arisato-kun's safety or because other devils might take an interest in him."
She did not respond as he expected. Instead of blushing as usual after being teased, Rias looked almost forlorn.
"No. We will keep it a secret. As long as we can, at least."
The two friends shared a look.
"I'm sorry, Rias," Akeno murmured.
The girl nodded, and turned to him. She saw the question in his eyes and smiled haltingly.
"If I lose the Rating Game," she explained, "and I most likely will now that Issei's Gear has temporarily lost its ability to Boost, I will be forced to become the wife of Riser Phenix. That means that I will be subservient to him, and in extension, my peerage will be as well. Anything I know I will be expected to tell him, your ability to summon Personas included. And once he finds out what you can do, he will want to add your power to his own."
He frowned. That would be… problematic.
"He is that type of person then."
"The Grilled Chicken is an asshole!" a smile of amusement threatened to tug at his lips. He could always depend on Issei to be eloquent, "Making Buchou do things she doesn't want to do!"
"Yes," Rias agreed with her Pawn's words, "His peerage is already filled, so to gain you under his influence he will have me tempt you into my peerage so that by serving me you will serve him as well. And if that includes making me do that with you, I doubt that he would care."
The amusement was gone instantly. That was not something he wanted or even desired. The mere thought of someone being forced to do something like that made him faintly nauseous. He was fully beginning to understand just how frantic she must have been.
In retrospect, even Issei's request to duel him did not seem so foolhardy now. Just desperate.
"If the two of you are to marry," he said slowly, "would that not be considered cheating?"
Rias made a scoffing sound.
"Riser's peerage consists entirely of female devils. I doubt he needs me if he wants to do that."
"So then it is all for the sake of power?"
"Yes. Devils have always desired power. And now with growing number of resurrected devils in our midst, the pure-blooded ones have become increasingly edgy. The devils that can trace their ancestry to the original Satans are now actively trying to prove their superiority, and this is what the marriage is about. That the union of two pure-blooded devils will bring forth a powerful offspring," the girl shook her head, as though she disagreed with the idea, and then smiled sadly at him once more, "If I begin to act rather inappropriately towards you, Arisato-san, please feel free to disregard me. It is most likely because Riser has made me do it."
He should be feeling grateful for the warning. Instead, he was feeling something else entirely.
"You beat Issei," the boy being mentioned winced from where he was laying, "and I will adhere to the conditions that was agreed upon. I will not try to recruit you from henceforth, but I cannot promise you what will happen after I lose the Rating Game."
"You have already accepted your defeat?" he glanced at her quizzically.
"Even with Issei's Boosted Gear, the odds were against us," Rias shrugged, "Now without its ability to Boost, defeat has become a certainty."
That had partially been his fault.
The devil gazed at him, as though trying to summon up courage for what she wanted to say next.
"I have agreed upon the conditions, but I was wondering if you would still be willing to answer a question I have."
He nodded. He could do that, at the very least.
"The dragon mentioned demons," Rias continued staring at him, "Not devils, but demons. The only beings that can classify as demons were the Great Satans and their direct underlings. You have the power to summon Nidhogg, an Evil Dragon," she hesitated, "Can you summon a Great Satan, as well?"
They were all looking at him now. And he regretted that there was genuine fear in some of those gazes. He grimaced inwardly. It was a delicate matter, what he could do and what he couldn't do, and he felt they were not quite ready to know those details. So he did something he was rather good at. He changed the subject.
"I will help you."
Rias seemed taken aback. It was clear she had not expected that for an answer. And then the realization of what he had said sank in and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.
"Ara, ara, it appears that our Buchou's plight has moved Arisato-kun's cold heart," Akeno said for her friend when it became clear Rias was momentarily having trouble forming words. The rest of her peerage shared no such constraints.
"It will be good to have you on the team," Kiba smiled at him, and then that smile wavered, "As long as you don't make the dragon eat us."
Koneko gave him a curt nod, but the expression on her face told him she agreed profoundly with Kiba's sentiments.
"I am glad you will be one of us," Asia paused, as though considering something, "But then you wouldn't be an Angel, anymore, would you?" the former priestess looked genuinely heart-broken at that thought, "I am humbled by the sacrifice you are making, Arisato-san."
Finally she calls him by his name and it was because of something like this? It was almost laughable.
From the ground, Issei gave him a weak grin and pumped a half-hearted fist into the air.
"Operation Recruit Arisato-san is a success!"
They misunderstood.
"I will help you," he said again, "But only for this one Rating Game. I do not permanently wish to become a devil."
And just like that, the enthusiasm in the air vanished.
"That would be impossible, Arisato-san," Rias sounded a bit exasperated. He understood her frustration. He had offered to help and then seemingly rescinded that offer moments later, in her view at least, "In order to participate in a Rating Game, you must be a devil. If you think it is because you will have to die to become one, I assure you that is not the case. There are rituals that can change a human into a devil without dying."
Dying was not the problem. Dying had never been a problem. Thanatos would never allow him to fall. The aspect of Death guarded its possessions jealously, and to it, he was considered the most valuable prize of all.
"I understand," he nodded, "and I will become a devil for your fight against Riser. Then I will go back to being human."
Apparently what he said was so outrageous that none of them had anything to say in reply.
"That is… unfeasible," Kiba finally settled on.
"Once you choose to become a devil," Rias added in, her brows furrowed, "you cannot go back. The process is permanent. Devils cannot become humans again."
He smiled at her.
The Persona slipped into his mind like wax, oozing through the mental barriers he had let lax for this very purpose. Wretched, demented laughter rang in his head, the tone rich with dark malevolence. He winced as his connection to certain Arcanas dimmed until he could no longer call upon their manifestations. But that was to be expected. One did not give in to the Dark and expect the Light to forgive. And this one was undeniably dark. Its very presence was a physical pain in his mind, a searing agony that tore at his conscience. Lesser men would have given in to the pain. They would have surrendered to their suffering and laid their souls bare for this being and they would have been utterly corrupted.
He endured it. Just as he had done when he first fused it in the Velvet Room and beheld it in all its demonic splendor. Just as he had done when he summoned far more darker beings than it.
"Are you alright, Arisato-san?" Rias must have noticed the sudden change in him, for her eyes shone with concern.
He turned to regard her, and he was struck by just how beautiful she was. The paleness of her skin. The large, soft eyes. The flaming red hair, just like Mitsuru's, but without the severeness. The gentle swell of her breasts, swaying hypnotically with every movement. Her elegant neck, so delicate and light that he could reach out and snap it like a-
He clamped down on those thoughts immediately.
This was why he didn't like having demons in his head. They made him think about things he didn't want to think.
"It should work now," he said, not quite managing to hide the grimace that had started forming on his lips.
Rias did not notice. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. That was the other thing about demons. They were not exactly subtle when it came to radiating off their power.
"How?"
The tone in her voice made it sound like a request, and requests could easily be ignored.
He inclined his head in her direction.
"I would like to become a Bishop."
Kiba suddenly looked very guilty.
"Ah… About that…"
"So you finally gave in," the voice that entered his ears as he opened the door to his apartment was the last voice he wanted to hear.
He frowned, and set aside his things, avoiding the feminine figure that sat cross-armed at his repaired table.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
He preferred not to, and went about his business. The day had been long, and he was eager for rest. There was supposed to be leftovers he had saved from last night in the fridge. They would have to do.
"Don't just ignore me!"
And yet that was exactly what he did. The leftovers were swiftly retrieved and placed into the waiting microwave. The entire time he waited for his food to heat up, he felt her stare burning holes into his shoulders.
In the end, facing her was inevitable. She was sitting at his only table, after all, and as much as he didn't wish to be interrogated, eating on the floor was a far less dignified option.
A quick search through the kitchen drawers produced the necessary eating utensils and all too soon he found himself walking towards the desk and the belligerent occupant it held.
He frowned when he saw the empty beer cans littered across the wooden surface, most of them recently opened. He had to move a few to make room for his dinner. As though if punctuating the scene, his tablemate let out a loud hiccup. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. A raised eyebrow caused her to glare back in defiance.
In retrospect, he should have seen this coming.
Humans, when they lost their purpose, tended to drown out their sorrows in alcohol. Raynare was not human. She would never be human, but when Metatron deprived her of her wings, she had been reduced to a state of flux. Not an angel for she had no wings, and yet not a human either for she was not born as one. The end result was someone who had the same tendencies for drink when depressed like a human yet possessing an uncanny tolerance to mild poisons such as alcohol like all angels did.
That didn't seem to matter though, as she managed to get herself roaring drunk through sheer volume alone.
It had not been this way at the start. When he first allowed the de-winged Fallen sanctuary in his apartment, she had kept to herself. She took his room for her own and stayed in it for the most part. He did not mind. The couch suited him fine, and the space between them kept things from becoming awkward. There were times though that he caught her looking at him, studying him from afar as if not sure what to think of him.
That had lasted for a few days. Then the gravity of the situation had fully struck her, and judging from the way she rapidly deteriorated in both mind and spirit, the impact must have ranged somewhere between asteroid and meteor in scale.
To be honest, he was not sure where she got all the alcohol. She never left his apartment much, and even if she did, she could not possibly have that much money to drink herself in a stupor each night. Yet every night he came home he would find her either blinking blearily at her surroundings or out cold. He suspected it was Dohnaseek. It would not surprise him one bit if the male Fallen was sneaking boxes of the stuff to his former leader. Out of all her previous compatriots, he was the one that was most sympathetic to her plight.
That was not to say he wasn't. Sympathetic, that is. Even though she had harmed him, it was strangely off-putting to witness a Fallen Angel try to drink herself to death. He did not particularly enjoy watching her make a fool out of herself as she stumbled about his home, nor did he enjoy the sobs he sometimes heard coming from his room when she thought he had gone to sleep.
It would be far easier to pity her, however, if she was not unfairly bellicose in-between the states of her drunkenness. Like right now, for instance.
"I know what you did," she glared accusingly at him as he sat down, "Don't try to hide it."
So Fallen Angels could sense demonic power too. He filed that under interesting information no one cared about. Raynare grew angrier when his reply consisted of opening the lid to his leftovers and shifting through their contents with his chopsticks.
"What did she do to make you turn? Something indecent, I bet."
He did not reply. That only seemed to add more fuel to the fire.
"Did she let you touch her tits? Was that it? And you went over to her with your tail wagging like that mutt, Issei?"
He took a bite and instantly regretted it. The particular restaurant he had chosen was not exactly renowned in these parts. Their food seemed to lose all taste even after just one night of refrigerating. But then again, with his rather meager supply of cash, he could not afford to be picky.
"She let you feel her up? It wouldn't surprise me. She's a devil, after all. They'll do anything for power."
Really, if he had made a simple detour on his way back, and picked up some sauces at the local supermarket, he wouldn't be in this predicament.
"What makes her so popular? Why does she get to snap her fingers and everyone comes running to her? What's so special about her? She's just a filthy devil!" he noted that she was ranting now, the sentences she was stringing along barely coherent, "What makes her better than me!?"
Hmm… If he made the journey now, he could still make it. The supermarket usually closed very late.
"Answer me, damn it!"
A sweep of her arm cleared the table of most of its contents. Empty beer cans clattered to the floor. It was an almost childish gesture, but he was not surprised she was capable of it. Anger had a rather annoying way of throwing anything rational out the window.
His gaze switched from the debris that now lay cluttered over his carpet back to the one who had caused it. Her shoulders shook with emotion.
He sighed.
"You are drunk."
The woman gave him a withering stare.
"So what if I am? It's not like I have anything else to do!"
"Drinking is bad for your health," he replied simply.
Raynare laughed. It was a bitter sound, but the bitterness was directed towards herself.
"And now we're just going to pretend you care about me? You? The one who turned me into this… this… weakling!? That's just rich."
"Would you rather be dead instead?"
She glared at him. The fury on her face made her all the more beautiful. But that was most likely the demon inside of him speaking.
"Answer the damn question," she leaned in to hiss, "What makes her better than me?"
"She doesn't drink for one," his nose wrinkled as her breath hit him, filled with the fetid odor of alcohol, "And she doesn't smell like shit."
She stared at him in open mouthed astonishment. Then wry humor entered her eyes and she slumped back down, defeated.
"I feel like shit," she conceded.
"Stop drinking then," he said and resumed eating.
She watched him in silence for a while, her gaze hooded and dark. In any other circumstance, he would have ignored it, but the Persona in his mind was especially willful, and he felt annoyance at her stare when he normally wouldn't.
"Yes?"
"You are Nephilim," she said without preamble.
Ah. So it was going to be this sort of conversation.
"I do not recall admitting that I was Nephilim," he replied, "In fact, I distinctly recall remaining silent on the issue."
"In a situation like that, silence may as well been an admission of guilt," Raynare countered.
"Hmm," was all he said in response.
She glared at him again, but he was well used to her anger by now. It hardly phased him.
"You are Nephilim," she said and then gestured towards her surroundings, "So why all this?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Nephilim are legendary. Their status amongst both angels and devils are near myth-like. More than that. The records are very vague on what they were," the woman hesitated, "What little information that exists says that they were giants who were born from the union of angels and human women. They also say that the Nephilim crafted golden palaces when the race of man was barely eking out an existence in mud huts," she stared at him, almost reprovingly, "You are no giant," and gestured once more towards her surroundings, "and the rat hole you are living in certainly isn't a palace."
Now that was unfair. It was his rat hole, after all.
"Perhaps I am not Nephilim at all," he suggested.
"No. You are," Raynare refused to budge on the issue, "Dohnaseek says you are Nephilim, so you must be."
"Just because he says I am does not mean I really am."
"Dohnaseek was an archivist in the High Heaven's Scholarium when he could still be counted among their kind. He was privy to information not usually known by the rest of us. If he says you are Nephilim, it is because he has good reason to. Even after he fell, he still seeks new knowledge, most of it forbidden."
He glanced at her in interest.
"Is that why he fell? Seeking forbidden knowledge?"
The Fallen Angel pursed her lips together.
"Partly."
"And the others?" he prodded.
"Kalawarner has always been big on authority," Raynare shrugged, "Before she fell, she was the very picture of the stern angel, disdainful towards lower beings and worshipful of those higher up on the ladder. When she learned of God's death, something within her broke. It was supposed to be a secret, but secrets always have a way of leaking out. That knowledge and knowing so many Archangels perished in the last battle shattered her resolve. As for Mittelt, I don't know. All I know is that she is a vindictive, spiteful little brat."
She frowned, as though recalling something and glowered at him.
"Since when did this become about us!? I was asking you the questions!" the Fallen slammed her palms against the table and rose once more, "Why are you sitting here doing nothing when you can be out there proclaiming to the world that you are Nephilim!? What's the point of just lingering here!? Why did you even agree to protect me!?"
The outburst left her panting. He watched her quietly for a while. That last question he could answer.
"There was once a tower," he said finally, "And within that tower, a boy sought to climb the winding stairs. I was friends with him."
"Was he Nephilim as well?" Raynare leaned back into her chair, her expression warring between interest and anger.
His lips twitched.
"Something like that," he paused before continuing, "When he finally reached the top of the tower, a great power awaited him. Her name was Nyx and her purpose was the destruction of all mankind."
"That sounds incredibly contrived," the woman said.
"Yes. I believe the boy thought the same thing when he first learned of her existence," memories of Ryoji entered his mind. They were not good memories, "Still, she existed, no matter how contrived it might sound. With the help of his friends, he fought her. And when his friends could no longer aid him, he fought her alone. He defeated her. That was when he learned a terrible truth."
"A terrible truth?" Raynare repeated.
He nodded.
"Nyx herself was neither hostile nor malevolent. She was a neutral entity. Something was making her initiate the Fall. Something was making her want to end humanity. His name was Erebus."
"I am not familiar with such a name," the Fallen seemed captivated, "If anyone would know it would be Dohnaseek-"
"He would not," she flinched when he interrupted her, "The archives of angels do not record the annals of humans. And Erebus was decidedly human. More than that. He was the amalgamation of humanity's darkest thoughts, mankind's most negative emotions. When in contact with Nyx, his presence would awaken her, and she would resume her descent to end all creation."
A hint of a bitter smile found his way onto his face.
"In the end, it was not a foreign, malevolent deity that wanted to destroy humanity as the boy and his friends first thought. It was humanity that wanted to destroy humanity. It did not sit well with him, you understand. He had gone into battle armed with the belief that humanity's courage, loyalty, and compassion would be the reason for his victory and discovered that it was humanity's fear, treachery, and hatred that nearly brought about the end in the first place."
He tapped his fingers on the table in thought. His sole audience quickly grew impatient.
"What happened next?" the woman almost demanded.
"He sacrificed himself. He gave up his life to become the seal that would prevent Erebus from reaching Nyx. And in that moment, as he breathed his last, he understood that saving the aspects of humanity he so admired would also mean saving the aspects of humanity he despised. To protect courage, he would have to save fear. To guard loyalty, he would have to shelter treachery. And to shield compassion, he would have to defend hatred," a small chuckle escaped him, "That's the thing about saviors. Often times, they don't get to choose what to save."
For once, the silence that stretched between them was neither awkward nor strained.
"This boy. You were friends with him?" Raynare finally asked. When he nodded, she seemed uneasily curious, "I would have liked to meet him. To see what he was like."
"He was rather unremarkable," was his answer, "He was a very quiet type of person."
"Even quieter than you?" she shot back.
"Yes. When I first knew him, he hardly spoke at all. But he didn't need to. His actions spoke for him," he smiled at her, "I miss him. I miss them."
It was clear she did not know what to say to that.
"You have done bad things, Raynare," her eyes widened at that statement, "and you have done them willingly. Many would call you evil. I would not disagree with that notion," she winced and looked down, "But it is not my place to judge what others do. I merely accept them for what they are. That is what he would have wanted me to do, and that is why he sacrificed himself. So people like you would get a second chance. So people like you who knew only fear, treachery, and hatred in their lifetimes would someday have a chance to know courage, loyalty, and compassion as well," he shrugged, "It is up to you to decide what to do with that second chance."
Her body trembled. When she looked up, there was something vulnerable about her gaze.
"I… I really am worthless, aren't I?"
He regarded her silently and chose carefully the next words he would say.
"Everyone is worth something, Raynare. Even someone like you."