Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For what seemed like the first time in ages, the Storm Border basked in the radiant sunlight of the bleached earth. Leaving the remnants of the South American Lostbelt behind, it soared through the sky with Chaldea’s goal reaffirmed for the nth time: to ensure the preservation of human order, above all else.

En route to the Antarctic Circle, where the frozen-over base of Chaldea resided, the journey of the Storm Border’s crew– Novum Chaldea –seemed to be nearing its end.

At the helm stood what appeared to be a young boy, nearly androgynous in features, sporting a rather fancy captain’s uniform and a white dastar with a blue feather to match. Nemo already knew that the day ahead would be one free of conflict, but the ever-vigilant captain never dropped his guard even for a moment.

Meanwhile, Sion Eltnam Sokaris stood in her usual purple glory, from her twintails to her hat and clothing, the latter two adorned with hints of green, as trademarked by the Atlas Institute. Quickly adjusting her glasses before facing the crew, Sion requested approval to give a report regarding the anomaly known as Test Subject E.

Approval was given by a portly blonde man with an equally blonde mustache, whose clothes practically screamed posh. The man was Goredolf Musik, the current director of Chaldea. Goredolf, cautious and eager to maintain momentum, urged her to keep it short. He sensed, rightly, that more questions were waiting just beneath the surface.

Subject E was a far more perplexing conundrum than any of the crew had prepared for, fraught with existential contradictions that were held together by mere theories. However, no matter how uncertain they may be, the theories regarding Subject E were invaluable. Subject E’s origins could hypothetically be traced back to CHALDEAS’ Nevada, an alien copy of the Earth, residing a hundred years in the future.

And yet–

Despite existing on an entirely alien planet–

Novum Chaldea’s field operatives breached CHALDEAS’ Area 51.

The very notion was an outlandish impossibility, one that overturned any form of common sense. But within the realm of mysteries, it was entirely possible.
The girl who claimed as much in her high-pitched voice stood with her weight perched atop her star-adorned staff in deep thought. The petite brunette was primly dressed in attire of red, white, and blue, with bows adorning her hair and clothing. Under the guidance of Chaldea’s technical advisor, Da Vinci, the theory of displacement was further extrapolated to CHALDEAS itself and its potential role in the bleached earth phenomenon.

From there, the logic spiraled forward. Da Vinci elaborated: if CHALDEAS duplicated the soul of the Earth, then the two could indeed be interchangeable. Size, geography, and even physical integrity meant nothing if soul structures aligned. What mattered was equivalence, and CHALDEAS had manufactured it perfectly. The act itself wasn’t destructive. It was surgical. For proper human history, the world had not been damaged beyond repair–it had been replaced.

Of course, that left room for a potential redo, an undoing of the Bleached Earth Phenomenon, that would set humanity back on its intended course. 

As one question was answered, however, another soon arose. CHALDEAS had simulated the Earth a century into the future, in the year 2119. But Subject: E’s body and surroundings felt archaic, outdated. Machinery from 2019. A temporal contradiction that gnawed at the logic. Sion acknowledged it–it matched her own doubts. The corpse’s time of death aligned with 2119, and yet everything around it had long since aged out of technological relevance. Several factors may have contributed to the temporal error. Still, the most logical seemed to be that CHALDEAS’ Area 51 simply lost funding, mirroring the military base of pan-human history.

The only discrepancy between the Earth and CHALDEAS was the object in question, Subject E itself. Its very existence proved that CHALDEAS had achieved something that proper human history hadn’t, leaving behind something that the Chaldean supercomputer Trismegistus II pegged as alien, despite the corpse found in Area 51 consisting of human biology.

The scope of Subject E’s abilities remained an anomaly. How could a single figure summon such a massive cohort of Servants? The question in everyone’s mind was answered by a young man with white hair, deeply sunken yet piercing golden eyes, who wore a white jacket emblazoned with Chaldea’s emblem and embroidered with a coat of dark fur around his shoulders. Former crypter-turned-valuable ally Kadoc Zemlupus offered a single word: revenge. The Servants had manifested with rage in their hearts, not loyalty. Their world had been destroyed to serve as a substitute for it. The retaliation was not senseless–it was directed. And Subject E, whether by intent or simple burden, had become a vessel for the wrath of a dead humanity.

The Command Seals Subject E bore had belonged to all those who could have been Masters on CHALDEAS’s Earth. Through some unknown mechanism, their collective will had granted them the ability. Subject E had been no more than a person, yet they were forced to carry the burden of the extinction of their kind, just like the last master of Chaldea–or so they thought.

Suddenly, a recording from their past foe, James Moriarty, began to play, informing Chaldea that Subject E indeed was not of terrestrial origin. According to Moriarty, Subject E was an alien that had been subjected to the worst of mankind, experimented on, and tortured for over a century, whose screams had garnered the attention of the foreign god itself.

Chaldeas’ deception could be traced back to its inception, where it remained operating functionally until the events of Solomon’s incineration of humanity in 2017. Initially, the swapping plan would have likely been put forth sometime during 2018, but due to Solomon–no, Goetia’s human order incineration ritual, it was thoroughly derailed, leaving Chaldeas to continue its deception until sometime after Goetia’s temple of time had disintegrated. This was something that the original director of Chaldea, Marisbury, couldn’t foresee–perhaps not with Lev Lainur’s betrayal itself, but with what happened after. Subsequent director Olga Marie was dropped into CHALDEAS... and the consequences of that act still lingered.

Goetia had longed for a deathless world; Kirishtaria dreamed of humanity's refinement. Daybit had framed his goals as a form of planetary euthanasia–destruction out of respect. Each ideology was incomprehensible, yet internally consistent. The Bleaching, though, lacked even that logic.

A mage to the end, Marisbury had always been about progress, not stagnation. If he had truly been evil, King Solomon would never have answered his call. Marisbury's plan and definition of good likely lay beyond the purely rational, like Daybit’s. Cold, mathematical, unfeeling, and utterly impossible for most people to comprehend.

Suddenly, right before the Storm Border could enter the Antarctic Circle, the vessel came to an abrupt halt. Chaldea’s first servant, currently in her casual wear consisting of a grey hoodie layered over a black shirt and a white-collared undershirt, along with a red tie bearing the Chaldea insignia. Her short, lilac hair covered one side of her lavender eyes, while the other, underneath her rectangular glasses, looked on in recognition and absolute determination. Mash felt it before the systems registered it. She recognized the sensation as a wall of humanity–the preservation of the Human Order, condensed into tangible form–something all-too familiar to her as the force that powered her and Sir Galahad’s Noble Phantasm, Lord Camelot, albeit magnified around the entire Antarctic. 

The wall was not defending Antarctica.

It was rejecting them.

The Storm Border’s dimension-piercing drill was rendered ineffective, and any special navigation techniques seemed futile due to the formless nature of the barrier. This left only one option that had long since seemed obsolete: the Shadow Border’s Zero Sail.

It was more of a test run than anything. If the Shadow Border could sink into the Void Sea, maybe it could use its connection to Chaldea’s Arctic Base as an anchor to emerge on the other side of the arctic boundary. In the event that the Shadow Border failed to establish a connection to Chaldea, the crew could always reverse the process and emerge near its parent vehicle, using a previously established anchor point.

Aboard the Storm Border, Goredolf, Da Vinci, the majority of the Nemo Series, and the rest of Chaldea’s staff stayed behind to oversee the Zero Sail. The Shadow Border, meanwhile, carried Captain Nemo at the helm, Mash Kyrielight donning her Ortinax suit, Kadoc Zemlupus serving as both a backup and a field operative, and, most importantly, the final Master of Chaldea.

Ritsuka Fujimaru stood in the middle of the Shadow Border, surrounded by circuitry and machinery. His blue eyes, framed by his black hair, continued to scan every last detail should they arise. He was clad in Chaldea’s Decisive-Battle Mystic Code, a crisp, futuristic white uniform with black harness-like accents and gloves, featuring a red Command Seal on the right hand, serving as a parallel to Kadoc’s outfit.

Suddenly, over the P.A. system, Nemo’s voice echoed throughout the Storm Border.

“Activating Imaginary Aronnax Phantasm… Naval Ram Assimilation: successful. Untether from reality. Void Space Dive Penetration Mode: Zero Sail: unfurl!”

With a mighty lurch, the Shadow Border descended into the sea of imaginary numbers, carving a path throughout the tides of the void sea. For several moments, the Shadow Border drifted in near silence, the Void Sea pressing in from all sides like a velvet pressure. The vehicle floated not through space, but something deeper and quieter. Circuits flickered against dark-paneled walls, and the lights along the ceiling pulsed with a slow heartbeat, as if unsure whether they were dreaming.

Ritsuka remained standing at the center console, hands steady, posture relaxed but ready. His gaze flicked over the monitors, taking in every trace of motion from the energy readings to the dimensional coordinates scrolling along the edge of the main display.

Across from him, Kadoc slumped back in his seat with a sigh. “We’re not dead. That’s a good start.”

Ritsuka looked at Kadoc with feigned incredulity. “Did…did Kadoc senpai just make a joke?”

Kadoc scowled at that.  “It wasn’t a joke. Just merely a way to express my amazement at how we don’t immediately evaporate every time we Zero Sail.”

“Well, I’d still give it a nine out of ten for drama,” Nemo quipped from the cockpit, an almost invisible grin plastered on his face, and his fingers moving effortlessly across the interface. “Now let’s see if we can stabilize before Fujimaru’s lunch makes a reappearance.”

“Void Sea entry vector has normalized,” Mash reported. She was at her post beside Ritsuka, already fully clad in her Ortinax armor. “Ortinax output is at 100%. I should be able to handle any unexpected combat encounters.”

“I’d rather get this little excursion over with as soon as possible,” Nemo muttered, then raised his voice slightly. “Storm Border, this is Captain Nemo. Shadow Border has achieved semi-stable drift. Requesting confirmation of signal integrity.”

Static answered.

Then, Da Vinci’s high-pitched voice answered the transmission. “–Hi, Captain! We read you loud and clear. Transmission is patchy, but stable enough.”

The voice crackled, but the words were clear. They gave Ritsuka an anchor of their own–some evidence that they hadn’t sunk too far to come back.

He allowed himself a breath. Then another.

“It’s strange,” Mash murmured beside him. Her eyes, violet and keen behind her glasses, scanned the wall of data like a fortress. “This doesn’t feel like the Void Sea. It’s similar, but... wider. More open.”

Nemo addressed her without looking back, “You mean it feels like it has rules, but the rules are lying to us.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. I don’t know if it's because of my Servant Spirit Origin…but there’s something very clearly abnormal here.”

Before another word could be spoken, the lights inside the Shadow Border dimmed to blood-orange. The internal sensors let out a low, grinding chime. Somewhere in the command deck, a glass panel vibrated with a brittle shiver.

Then, a voice.

“Of course this was going to happen.”

No sound from outside should have been audible in the Shadow Border, lest it be an ear-piercingly loud noise. The armored walls were way too thick. Even so, the familiar voice managed to linger inside the vessel without so much as a mild discomfort to the ears of its passengers.

Ritsuka froze. Mash’s grip tightened on her shield. Kadoc muttered something under his breath. Nemo immediately notified the Storm Border.

Goredolf’s panicked face suddenly appeared in the form of a hologram. “Captain Nemo! Find where that voice is coming from this instant!”

“Roger!” Nemo frantically pressed buttons in the Shadow Border’s cockpit, eventually finding the button that corresponded to the camera that gave a full view of the source of the voice.

On-screen, the security feeds flickered, then came to focus on a man standing atop the Storm Border’s outer hull, the only speck of noticeable color in the impossible sight of the Void Sea. Cloaked in raggedy brown garb covering a white shirt with a black collar, auburn hair tousled in the nonexistent wind of the Void. His countenance was cold and unfeeling, a jarring expression that had been plastered over the face of a familiar individual. His yellow eyes seemed to pierce the souls of all those who saw them, whether they be in the Shadow or the Storm Border.

“Visual contact established!” Nemo’s voice rang with alarm now. “Requesting confirmation–does the Storm Border have visual on the same target?

Da Vinci responded with little delay.  “Affirmative, we have a visual on Romani Archaman.” She leaned in a bit closer to the control panels. “Shadow Border! Record everything he says! Every word! Every frame!”

Romani Archaman began speaking again. “The barrier around the Antarctic is a failsafe,” he continued, voice calm, unaffected. “A layered defense to prevent interference from either side. It wasn’t built to keep people in. It was built to keep foreign elements out, and right now, you, Chaldeans, are considered a foreign element. The Antarctic is not what is keeping you out. Proper Human History itself is rejecting you.

Before Chaldea could fully digest Romani’s words, he spoke up again. “None of your attempts–whether it be trying to force your way in via the Storm Border, or trying to emerge on the other side via the Zero Sail–will prove fruitful.”

Ritsuka stepped forward, fists clenched. “You’re saying you expected the Zero Sail?”

It was uncertain if Romani heard Ritsuka’s outburst, but he continued regardless. “The Zero Sail was the only logical move you had left. One predictable enough that I could wait here for it.”

The image on the screen shimmered.

“The Void Sea isn’t where you are anymore,” he added. “You crossed too far. You drifted sideways, not backward. And now you reside somewhere in between, an estuary between Void Space and the Dimensional Gap.”

“The what?” Ritsuka blinked. “That’s not a term I’m familiar with.”

Kadoc chimed in. “It’s not a magi term either, not as far as I’m aware.”Turning to face Da Vinci’s holographic display, he asked, “Da Vinci. Is there anything within Chaldea’s database that matches the term?”

A few moments passed before Da Vinci returned with an answer, albeit an unsatisfactory one. “No, no such thing exists within Chaldea’s database.”

Sion, joining in the call, added her own piece of information. “I don’t recall anything called the ‘Dimensional Gap’ in Atlas’ libraries either. Whatever this Dimensional Gap is, it's very likely that it’s a never-before seen phenomenon.”

Before the Chaldeans could continue their conversation, Romani spoke up once more. “This isn’t a place tied to time. Or even causality. The Dimensional Gap is an in-between. A negative space between entire realities. Not fantasy. Not theory. Just everything that isn't.”

While Romani dropped that particular ball of information as if it were a piece of common knowledge, it left the Chaldeans in and out of the Void Sea in utter chaos, for the existence of a realm beyond that of the Void Space was revolutionary in the world of magecraft.

Amidst the pandemonium, it was arguably the most magus-like person in Chaldea who managed to bring back focus to the situation at hand. Goredolf shook his head before addressing the Shadow Border with a grimace. “Never mind all that! I mean, it’s truly fascinating, but we have bigger fish to fry! Fujimaru! Ask Romani Archaman why pan-human history is stopping our advances to the Antarctic!”
Ritsuka, who had already been struggling to keep up with the magical discussion around him, latched on to the director’s orders like a lifeline. “Right!” Pointing an accusing finger at the monitor, he directed his attention to the stray residing atop the border. “Romani Archaman! Tell us why proper human history rejects us after everything we’ve done!”

The line remained silent for what felt like hours. No change graced Romani’s features. The hum of the equipment, the crackle of static on the comms, even the pounding of hearts–they all faded into the background, swallowed by the weight of his silence. And still, he said nothing.

Finally, Romani opened his mouth. “In short…it is because of you, Ritsuka Fujimaru." 

Mash drew in a sharp breath beside him, her fingers curling instinctively around the handle of her shield. Kadoc’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

“You no longer belong,” Romani continued, voice even, remote. “The gears within you no longer mesh.”

As Ritsuka Fujimaru opened his mouth to retort, he was cut off by a deafening sound of crushing metal.

It happened in an instant, much like the bombing of Chaldea’s command room back in 2017. Alarms howled. The hull buckled. The Shadow Border groaned as if struck by a god.

“Evasive maneuvers!” Nemo barked. “Brace for–!”

But it was too late. The forward hull of the border shattered inwards like a paper screen, powerless against a golden ray of light. Pressure, force, and something far less tangible sucked at the walls of the ship.

Ritsuka saw it happen as if in slow motion–the way the hull tore open, the way the iridescent lights of the Dimensional Gap fractured across Mash’s visor, and the way his body was pulled towards the hole, powerless to do anything about it.

Then, right before his body fully ejected from the border, a hand shot out from within, reciprocating Ritsuka’s own outstretched hand.

Kadoc Zemlupus groaned as he desperately hung on to the Shadow Border with all his might, each of his muscles reinforced to the brink by his magic circuits.
“Kadoc…” Ritsuka gasped, voice weak against the roaring forces of the Dimensional Gap, fingers clutched around the other man’s wrist like a lifeline.

Kadoc practically shouted at the top of his lungs. “Don’t you dare let go!” 

“I…wasn’t…planning on it…” Ritsuka managed to get out before a smug smile, completely unfitting of the life-or-death situation, crept up his face. “But, senpai, I thought you said that mages shouldn’t be so quick to offer someone a hand?”

Kadoc’s face contorted even more at that. “Are you insane!? You’re about to fall into god-knows-where, completely uncharted by any other mage in history, and you’re–”

Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, Kadoc saw him–the one responsible for the attack on the Shadow Border. Romani Archaman had somehow managed to enter the border without anyone noticing.

Kadoc and Ritsuka could only watch in horror as Romani raised his hand, two fingers extended as if conducting some invisible thread, and light seared across the Border’s already-battered frame. It leapt toward Kadoc, tracing a perfect line toward Kadoc’s wrist that held onto Ritsuka.

There was no explosion. No theatrics. Just a shearing sound, like a ribbon pulled taut and cut.

Kadoc howled as blood began to spurt from his wrist, now only held together by a shred of flesh.

Kadoc’s grip failed, and Ritsuka’s hand slipped from his.

The last master of Chaldea fell into the layered brilliance of the Gap, a world with no up or down, only confusion and wrinkles.

In that moment,

“Senpai!!!”

Mash’s cry rang out as she launched forward, her shield cast ahead like a breaking wave. Her boosters fired on instinct, full throttle. All for the sake of protecting her master.

Romani watched them both fall, far beyond what was known of humanity. Then, without another word, with a wave of his hand, he began to fill in the hole of the damaged Shadow Border.

After stabilizing the Border, Captain Nemo rushed as fast as he could to the scene of the catastrophe, his revolver in hand, and pointed straight at the head of Romani Archaman.

Inside, Kadoc gasped for breath, cradling his blood-soaked wrist, eyes wide with shock and fury. “You…you bastard–!”

Romani spoke again, his voice emotionless as ever, despite the debacle that had just ensued and the gun aimed at him. “I trust you are well, Kadoc Zemlupus?”

Kadoc shuffled around, still clutching his wounded arm. “Never mind me. Where are Mash and Ritsuka!?” Turning his head to Nemo, Kadoc spoke, “Your gun isn’t going to do anything to him, Captain. Just head back to the cockpit, notify Chaldea, and prepare to dive in after them.”
Nemo’s face morphed from a frown to a full-blown scowl, but wordlessly headed back to the cockpit.

Kadoc continued to glower at Romani while the latter continued to stand emotionlessly, facing the now patched-up hole that Ritsuka Fujimaru and Mash Kyrielight were thrown out of. 

“I ask you again, Kadoc Zemlupus: I trust that you are well? It would have been a shame for you to lose your Sirius Light then and there. You never know when you may need it in the future.”

“Tch. Nothing that isn’t fixable. I’ll get it checked out after we find Ritsuka and Mash.”

“Hmph. Even if you were to pursue Fujimaru and Kyrielight right now, there is no guarantee that you will end up in the same place as them.” 

Romani finally turned to look at Kadoc. “The Gap connects several worlds. Do you truly believe that you will end up in the same one as them? Are you willing to suffer the consequences if you don’t?”
Bracing himself against the wall, Kadoc rose to meet Romani’s gaze and dragged his undamaged left hand over his chest. “Yes, I am. We have hinged ourselves on infinitesimal chances countless times before. The idiot who just flew out of the border would say as much, and he would do the same for anyone else on the crew.”

Romani’s gaze lingered on Kadoc for several moments, and Kadoc returned it with no decreased determination in his eyes. “You have truly changed, Kadoc Zemlupus. But make no mistake. If you decide to follow Fujimaru and Kyrielight this instant, I will stop you.”

Before Kadoc could respond, Romani turned his back towards Kadoc and vanished into thin air. Kadoc silently stood there for a few seconds, and it was only then that Kadoc began to hear the panicked calls for his name coming from the cockpit.

“Shit.” was the only thing Kadoc could say before limping over to the cockpit.

It was less than a second, but to him, it felt like an eternity.

Airless silence, and suddenly, he was falling.

While he couldn’t pinpoint exactly how, the “nothingness” within the gap seemed to eat away at his very being.

Ritsuka Fujimaru prepared to resign himself to his untimely fate, so close to the finish line–

Suddenly, from nowhere, a hand grabbed his.

Mash’s hand.

She had dived after him, armor sparking and arms locked tight around his waist. “Senpai–!”

Her voice was real. She was real.

And so was the impact of reality coming undone.

She held him against her as the Ortinax bloomed to full strength. Her shield materialized in her free hand, and she screamed out the name of her Noble Phantasm in a space where nothing could be heard.

“LORD CAMELOT!!!”

Almost immediately, a castle of white walls was constructed around Master and Servant. Without solid ground, the construct should have been incomplete. The walls began to flake off and crumble under the pressure of the Dimensional gap, but new ones continuously arose to replace them.

This was the power–the willpower of Mash Kyrielight, who decided that she would protect Ritsuka Fujimaru no matter the circumstance.

“–I won’t let go!”

They fell for what felt like hours–or maybe seconds.

And then–

Light.

Sky.

Gravity.

They broke through the gap and plummeted downward, clouds screaming past them like a ripping veil. Below were the outskirts of a town, lined with forests, stone walls, and the occasional rooftops.

Ritsuka, still reeling from the events that had aspired before his mind could even register, blinked in surprise to see Mash’s lavender eyes staring right at him.

“Are–are we alive!?”

Mash, who had suddenly become aware of her close proximity to her master, blushed before a radiant smile graced her features. “Yes! We made it, senpai!”

Ritsuka took a few deep breaths before smiling gently back at her. “I’m glad too, Mash. But you do realize–” he craned his neck so he could look at the rapidly approaching ground. “That we are still falling, right?”

“Ah–right!” She turned her head towards the earth, which seemed ever so closer than just a second ago, before turning her head towards her master again. “Don’t worry, Master! Mash Kyrielight will protect you from any harm!”
Ritsuka chuckled at that. “I know. Thanks for reassuring me, Mash.”

“Noble Phantasm, continuing deployment!”

With a thunderous crash, they hit the earth like a meteor shield first. Dirt flew up. Trees bowed. And in their wake was a massive crater.

When the dust cleared, all that remained were two people, one of whom lurched over the other, but both relatively unscathed.

Beneath Ritsuka, Mash spoke their first words after their crash. “Hehe…Master, are you hurt?”

Ritsuka snickered a bit before responding. “Barely at all. That went far better than last time. Thanks, as always, Mash.”

“You're welcome, senpai. But ah–” A rosy hue slowly crept up her cheeks, the longer they remained in their position. “You’re still clinging to me, senpai.”

Ritsuka, whose face mirrored Mash’s, could only say two words: “I know.”

The pair lay there for a few more minutes, basking under the sun of Kuoh’s sky.

Chapter Text

"Shadow Border, come in–repeat, Shadow Border, do you copy? Kadoc? Captain Nemo? Are you two alright?!" Da Vinci’s panicked voice could be heard on the radio.

The line crackled for a beat too long, static carrying the weight of breathless tension. Then:

"We’re here." Kadoc’s voice cut through–tight, bitter, and bone-tired. "Alive. For now."

Captain Nemo's voice followed, calm but clipped. "No major structural collapse in the Shadow Border. We lost control for approximately eight seconds before reseal. Power routing remains stable. Environmental readings nominal. Crew: two, injured: one. Kadoc's right hand is damaged, but repairable.” Nemo took a deep breath before continuing. “Two casualties."

The atmosphere in both the Shadow and Storm Border seemed to dim at that, but there was no room for early grieving.

"We’ll patch Kadoc up once you're back in real space," Da Vinci interjected, fingers already moving. "You’re lucky the Void Sea’s pressure didn’t crush you both–or that you two were destroyed but whatever properties the Dimensional Gap holds. Pull back now–route is stable for another two minutes. We're prepping recovery."

Kadoc exhaled sharply through his nose. "Understood."

"Before that–damn it, would someone just explain what happened!?" Goredolf’s voice boomed over the comms. "We lost visuals, then a breach, and now Ritsuka and Mash are gone! What in the world happened out there!?"

For a moment, neither Nemo nor Kadoc replied.

Then Kadoc spat out the words like they physically offended him: “He threw them out.”

"...What?" Came the combined, befuddled voices of everyone in the Storm Border.

“Romani Archaman. Or whoever it is that’s posing as him,” Nemo said, with perfect clarity. “He tore open the wall himself. We didn’t breach. He cut it open. It happened in an instant. There was no way for any of us to react in time.”

The line went silent.

“I tried to hold on,” Kadoc added. “He reached out. I grabbed him. I had him. And then–”

He clenched his remaining hand so tightly his nails drew blood.

“Tch. If only the bastard hadn’t cut my wrist nearly clean off.”

Goredolf’s voice, unusually quiet, came over the line again. “Get back here. That’s an order. We'll get you patched up and–”

“Wait,” someone cut in–maybe Da Vinci, maybe Sion–“If they come back, will we even be able to re-enter the Dimensional Gap again? Was this just a fluke, or…”

“No.” Kadoc cut in, eyes narrowing. “It wasn’t random.”

He stood from the console he’d slumped against, a faint glow of magical reinforcement humming through his spine. His breath was heavy, but his voice had returned to precision, blunt and surgical.

“Listen to what he said. Every phrase was measured. He didn’t say we couldn’t follow. He said we couldn’t follow as we are now. That’s not rejection. That’s a condition.”

Da Vinci was already pulling up the audio logs. “So you think there’s a way back in?”

“I think there’s a path.” Kadoc stared into the ether that once housed the rift. “Romani wasn’t just dismissing us. He was outlining boundaries. Like a guidepost wrapped in a warning.”

“Then the path to them still exists,” Nemo said. “We just need to find it.”

“More than that,” Kadoc added. “We need to earn it. Whatever he meant by Fujimaru’s gears not meshing–whatever that implies–it was more than condemnation. It was a test. Either by him, or something far greater.”

Goredolf swore softly under his breath. “Fine. Then we treat it as such. Technical Advisor, Sion, every other person in Chaldea–we direct our focus to developing a method to navigate the Dimensional Gap. It doesn’t matter how long it takes–well, yes, it does–we will retrieve Ritsuka Fujimaru and Mash Kyrielight!”

A resounding roar of applause overtook the Storm Border, and the sounds of footsteps and shuffling began dominating the line.

“That sounds like it went well,” said Nemo, addressing Kadoc with a slight smile returning to his face.”
“We’ll find them,” Kadoc murmured, mostly to himself. “There’s no choice but to move forward.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Director…” Kadoc gave the holographic Goredolf a side-eye. “Is there something else you want to say to us?”

Goredolf coughed twice. “Why, yes, o–of course. I was merely waiting for everyone to leave the premises.” He readjusted his collar. “But as for our current situation: what do we do after? Assuming we even find a path–do we go charging in after them, only to be swatted down like flies by that impostor!?”

Kadoc didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked towards the monitor, which only moments prior had been recording the culprit behind the mess they were in.

“He never did say what would happen if we followed later .”

The silence said more than any answer could.

Rias Gremory hated paperwork.

She slouched in her chair, one cheek squished into her desk, crimson hair pooling around her like spilled wine. Half a dozen contracts glowed on her tablet screen–various payments for devil jobs completed by her peerage–but all of them blurred together into an endless tide of itemized nonsense.

“I am the heiress of the Gremory clan,” she muttered dramatically, finger lazily flicking through a stack of paper that never seemed to shrink. “Not a secretary.”

She glanced around the room, as if daring the walls to object. They didn’t.

Grumbling, she kicked her feet up onto the desk and began sifting through her peerage’s contract requests. “Requesting Akeno to assist with ‘blessing’ a wedding…an elaborate, anime-themed dress-up session with Koneko…use of Kiba as a butler…use of Kiba as a chauffeur…use of Kiba as–”

Rias felt her motivation immediately drain from her body. They were a noble peerage for Maou’s sake, and they were being used as an on-demand cosplay troupe with light catering services. 

“Oh for the love of–”

And then, without warning, everything stopped.

There was no explosion. No wind. No earth-rumbling tremor.

But it hit her all the same.

A weightless pressure dropped through her body, humming through her bones, and shocking her very magical core. Something had passed through Kuoh in an instant, like a shockwave without heat or sound. 

Rias stood bolt upright, hand already reaching for her phone. Her heart was pounding as if it had been yanked into overdrive.

Akeno

Did you just feel that?

The reply was nearly instant.

?That massive pulse just now

Yeah. That was weird

Made my hair stand on end

Where are you?

Still at the shrine. No visible damage or anything like that here

?What even was that

I don't know.

Nothing blew up on my end either. It just…kind of appeared and disappeared in an instant.

Another buzz.

.Ara, Ria-tan, you’re texting in full sentences. That’s how I know you’re spooked

Shut up.

Akeno’s next message came with a laughing emoji, which Rias chose to ignore.

Instead, she pulled up another thread. One that always made her type faster, sharper.

Sona Sona Sona

Tell me you felt that

.Yes, I did

.Lasted about a second

.Magical energy levels were really high, but I can’t seem to detect any residual mana, at least from where I am

Rias could already picture her in Kuoh Academy’s student council room, adjusting her glasses like she was logging a lab report instead of acknowledging whatever the hell that just was.

Thanks for the obvious, Miss Data Log.

.You're welcome, Lady Feelings-Based Analysis

Rias rolled her eyes at that, but brought her attention back to the situation at hand.

Sending anyone?

.The rest of the student council is already with me. They all felt it too. We’re about to fly out to the source right now

?Your side

Ughhh…peerage is all out doing contracts and Akeno is doing her own things

?Convenient. Or is your leadership slipping

Go fix your glasses.

Rias ended the exchange with a sharp press of her thumb and tucked the phone into her skirt pocket. The joking didn’t ease the tension still clinging to her skin like mist.

She internally debated calling her brother, but ultimately decided against it. She loved her brother, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with his…“overly-loving” tendencies. Furthermore, despite her young age, she was still one of the overseers of Kuoh. It was her duty to tend to unexpected events. Also, she wanted to observe the anomaly, rather than obliterate it just yet.

She crossed her office to the open window and stared out into the tree-lined city beyond. Nothing had changed. No smoke. No light. No cracking of the sky.

But her instincts were screaming.

She turned her gaze upward, toward the forest where the pulse seemed to have originated. Something had landed in her territory. Something powerful enough to light up every supernatural sense in Kuoh like a beacon.

And whatever it was…it hadn’t even tried to hide.

The streets of Kuoh were bustling in the afternoon. Sunlight still clung to the pavement, bleached and summer-warm, casting long, flickering shadows beneath the covers of recently opened stores, albeit ready to recede into the calm darkness of the night. Old signs squeaked in the breeze. A delivery truck rumbled by, trailing the scent of exhaust and fresh bread, its tires jostling over a loose manhole cover with a familiar metallic clatter. Shopkeepers swept doorways still clinging to the quiet of dawn, and school uniforms dotted the sidewalks in shifting clusters, voices rising in bursts of laughter and never-ending chatter.

Two young adults wandered the sidewalks…and blended in about as well as two conventionally attractive people dressed like extras from a space opera ever could.

Mash tried–she really did–to keep her steps casual, to have a certain amount of fabricated pride in her steps, to be able to look forward with dignity. But there was only so much she could do. The Ortinax looked absurdly heavy on her frame, never mind her shield. Matte black armor practically glistened in the morning light, and more than once, she caught people staring outright. Children whispered. Adults slowed. An elderly woman gave them a wide berth.

“Senpai…” she mumbled, shrinking a bit behind her shield. “I think people are…staring.”

“Yeah,” Ritsuka said, keeping pace beside her. His hands were jammed in his pockets, shoulders a little too loose for someone lost in a world he didn’t know. “That’s because we look like we just walked out of an anime convention and forgot where the train station is.”

Mash winced, her embarrassment visible even through her bangs. “Should I have taken off the Ortinax…?”

“Probably,” he said. “Then again, you did use a Noble Phantasm on the way down. Not exactly subtle. Plus, you never know when we might need the firepower.”

“Still…” She trailed off, glancing down at herself. “If someone calls the police–”

“They won’t.” Ritsuka stopped walking and turned to face a small group of onlookers, mostly students in casual summer uniforms. Their phones weren’t out yet, but their eyes were wide.

He smiled disarmingly. “Sorry, everyone. We’re, uh–cosplayers! Photoshoot in the mountains went a little long. Forgot to change.”

A moment passed. The students glanced at one another. One of them gave a slow, confused thumbs-up. Another muttered something about “cool armor,” and another that sounded suspiciously like “that lucky bastard.”

Ritsuka turned back toward Mash, that same too-relaxed smile never quite leaving his face. “See?”

Mash let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “…you’re surprisingly good at lying, Senpai.”

“I think I’ve learned a thing or two from the best,” he said with a cheeky smile, which quickly faded into a flustered expression of his own, before grabbing Mash’s hand. “Come on. Let’s find someplace quiet. Preferably with shade, and preferably without witnesses. Just because I’m not showing it doesn’t mean that I’m not at least a little bit embarrassed.”

“Uhhh…” was the only thing that came out of the red-faced girl’s mouth as she was practically dragged away. Eventually, the murmurs behind them were already fading into other distractions.

Mash’s stride evened out a little more with each step, though her shoulders still hunched any time someone passed too close. Eventually, the pair found themselves in a quaint little park, sitting side by side on an isolated bench. Some children ran around playing tag, mothers pushed their children on swings, and throughout it all, maybe because everyone was so focused on their own day-to-day activities, gave Master and Servant some much-needed distance.
Neither really had a plan for what to do next, as when they attempted to contact Chaldea, they were met with a line that didn’t even remotely have a way to connect.

Mash’s gaze was firmly locked on the sights before her: children, their friends, and their parents. No monsters. No alarms.

“I mean…I knew this kind of life existed. I’ve read about it. I’ve seen images. But this–” She lifted her head again, eyes distant, fixed on a boy being spun in a dizzy circle by what looked to be his older brother. “This is the first time it all feels so real.”

Her voice caught briefly on the last word. She swallowed it down, blinked hard once, then kept going, as if too afraid to stop. 

“There’s a difference between knowing something exists and…having it be right in front of you, I guess. She hesitated before continuing. “...the Doctor always told what normal life looked like. Family, friends, schools, picnics. But now that it’s right in front of me, I–I don’t know what to do with it.”

Ritsuka didn’t interrupt. He didn’t have to. Mash kept her voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly would break the spell.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “And fragile. Like something I’d ruin if I got too close.”

A small boy tripped headlong into the grass. He started to cry–then stopped when his mother scooped him up, dusted his knees, and whispered something in his ear. He giggled through hiccups. Mash’s hands tensed slightly, just for a second.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling, Senpai,” she whispered. “Is it happiness? Is it sadness? Is it longing? Or something else entirely?”

Ritsuka turned to her. She was smiling, but something glistened in her lavender eyes, a shimmer caught in the light. His chest tightened.

He looked up. The sky above was clear and blue, so plain it felt almost foreign. No floating cities. No apocalyptic balls of light. Just soft clouds drifting with nowhere to be. He let the silence settle between them and slowly exhaled.

“…ours is still there, waiting for us.”

He didn’t say because of us. He didn’t need to. 

“I hope,” she said after a while, voice steadier, “someday we can stop just saving humanity…and actually live in it.”

Ritsuka’s hand shifted slightly toward hers on the bench. Not touching. But near enough to be felt.

They watched the families for a while longer. The wind moved gently through the leaves.

And for the first time in a long, long time, it truly felt like there was no one to fight.

With a snap of her fingers, Rias’ black wings unfurled and burst open, scattering loose paper in her wake. She was out the window in an instant, soaring across Kuoh’s skyline as dusk rolled in behind her like a velvet curtain.

The forest clearing was farther than she’d hoped. She descended fast, boots touching down at the edge of a crater no larger than a classroom. It looked unassuming at first. Quiet. But the closer she got, the more she noticed was wrong. Trees uprooted, bent outwards, and in some cases, snapped off their trunks altogether. There was no lingering magic, just the aftertaste of something that shouldn’t have been there. After gently gliding around the site a bit, she found a familiar set of heads.

“Sona,” Rias called, walking up to the center without breaking stride.

“Hello, Rias.” Sona stood near the edge of the indentation, arms crossed. Her vice president, Tsubaki knelt at her side, quietly recording the student council’s observation on her phone.

“You work fast.”

“I thought this might be urgent.” Sona didn’t look up.

“Anything?”

“Plenty of readings. None of them make sense.”

Rias stepped beside her and looked down. “No residual effects other than some mana. No spell patterns. No demonic origin.”

Sona gave a rare nod. “Exactly.”

“Was it a sacred gear?”

“Not like any I’ve ever heard of.”

They both fell into silence, staring at the shallow depression like it might change shape if they looked long enough.

“Whatever this was,” Sona said slowly, “it wasn’t just energy. It hit the ground.”

“Which means something caused it,” Rias added. “Not a phenomenon. A person.”

“Or a creature.”

“Or a weapon.”

Still nothing from the trees. No birdsong. No wind.

Rias shifted her weight, arms crossed tightly. “You think it’s dangerous?”

“I don’t know.”

The tension stretched between them like a taut thread, until–

Rias’s phone buzzed with a text message, reading Akeno’s name.

Buchou?

I’m not saying that I found the source…

But they seem to be standing right in front of me.

By the time the sun began to dip past the horizon, Ritsuka and Mash had covered most of central Kuoh on foot. Ritsuka held a tourist’s paper map, slightly crumpled from repeated folds and comparisons. It listed restaurants, shops, shrines, and old landmarks. Thankfully, the local station attendant had been kind enough to hand it over without too many questions.

“There,” Mash said, tapping the edge of the page with a gloved finger. “Abandoned church. Seems to have been out of use for a while.”

Ritsuka raised a brow. “Huh. Think it’s worth checking?”

Mash tilted her head. “It’s been abandoned for years, Senpai. If it ever was connected to anything, it’s likely gone inert.”

Ritsuka hummed. “Good point,” he then directed his finger at what seemed to be a small shrine. “How about this one then?”

“It seems pretty tiny from the image they have…but it still seems like it’s taken care of. If we do find anything, it might be there.”

Eventually, by following the red-highlighted path of Kuoh’s scenic route, they ended up ascending a narrow, wooded stairway that sloped gently up the hill. The torii gate loomed ahead, its arch casting long shadows over the stairway path. A pair of lanterns burned low at the top.

“Should we head in?” Ritsuka asked, his breath visible in the cooling air.

Mash studied the quiet grounds. “It’s still open. We might as well.”

“Let’s be polite. This is someone’s workplace.”

Mash nodded silently.

Above the hill, in her Akeno Himejima had already begun her evening routine–candles dimmed, incense cleared, grounds swept–when she suddenly felt it.

A pulse.

Not like the earlier explosion of magical energy, but something quieter. A slow, inevitable thrum against her senses. She turned toward the shrine’s entrance just as two figures set foot on the steps.

They didn’t suppress their presence. Not fully. Not even a little.

She froze mid-step, then quickly schooled her expression into something placid. Her fingers brushed the sleeve of her uniform where her phone vibrated, but she ignored it for now. Her trademark smile slipped into place as she stepped out to meet them.

“Good evening!” she said with a soft bow. “We’re just about to close, but you’re still welcome.”

The boy, in a futuristic white suit, offered a sheepish half-wave. The girl beside him stood ramrod-straight, wearing some kind of armor that looked like it came right out of one of Rias’ mangas.

“Evening,” Ritsuka said. “Sorry if we’re intruding.”

“Not at all,” Akeno replied smoothly. “Are you here for a visit? Or maybe something else?”

There was a pause. The two glanced at each other.

“We were…exploring the area,” Mash said carefully. “Trying to get our bearings.”

Akeno’s smile never left her face, but inwardly, she was sweating. She fumbled trying to reach her phone, almost dropping it a few times, before finally managing to open it. “Haha…sorry about that. I just have to…um…text my landlord…?”

“...”

“...”

The two strangers’ deadpan stares hurt. Akeno almost felt like crying because of the slight to her image as the calm, cool, and mature big sister, but swallowed the feeling in favor of texting Rias about the two mysterious arrivals.

Buchou?

I’m not saying that I found the source…

But they seem to be standing right in front of me.

Rias answered back within seconds.

WHAT

WHERE

??AT YOUR SHRINE

!ANSWER ME AKENO

Akeno, meanwhile, faced the pair with her eyebrows twitching, starting to grow annoyed by her phone’s constant buzzing.

Yes, they are at my shrine

?ARE THEY HOSTILE? ARE THEY DOING ANYTHING

??WAIT THEY

???IT’S MORE THAN ONE THING

Yes, Rias, “it’s” two people. They look to be around our age

No, they aren’t hostile, but they are certainly hurting my self-esteem…

?Never mind that. Wait so what can you tell me about them? And how do you know they’re the sources

Umm...

Akeno quickly glanced up and down at the pair, trying to be discreet, but the black-haired one clearly caught it as he gave her another wave. The lilac-haired one looked like she was trying to stifle a smile.

One’s a boy, and it looks like he’s wearing some kind of advanced suit. It positively has magic coursing through its fabric, although it seems extra concentrated in his right hand for some reason.

He has black hair and blue eyes. Oh, and he’s quite cute too, if I do say so myself.

Rias rolled her eyes at that. Her queen was up to her antics again, even if she likely wasn’t going to do anything with it, given her history.

.Ugh. Next

The other is a girl, she has light-pinkish hair and purplish eyes.

Oh, and get this

She’s wearing like some kind of mecha-suit and carrying what I think is a massively oversized shield.

It literally looks like it came straight from Star Wars.

Also, I lied earlier.

It seems like she’s exclusively the source of the magical pulse.

She’s practically exploding with magical energy. Her shield especially feels exactly like the pulse from earlier, just much more subdued.

After receiving Akeno’s string of texts, Rias’s eyes began to visibly sparkle. Mecha was a cornerstone for every anime fan, and Akeno happened to be right in front of one! Rias began to silently lament the fact that she didn’t just let Sona and her peerage handle the initial inspection. Said peerage could only look in confusion as to why the Occult Research Club’s president suddenly shifted from having stars in her eyes to comedically sobbing.

Rias began to send a string of texts asking for more descriptions and photos from Akeno, while Akeno herself found herself getting more and more annoyed by her not-so-secret weaboo president’s never-ending questions. She was finally pulled out of texting limbo by the sounds of coughing.

“Well…you uh, seem to be busy, so we’ll just be on our way.” The boy called out, already at the bottom of her hill with his partner.

The girl waved goodbye to her, remarking that despite the short interaction, it was pleasant to meet Akeno, but that they had to go their on their way.

Akeno could only stand with her mouth agape, hand outstretched, and mutedly yelling, “Wait, wait, wait–!” Before the pair disappeared from her view entirely.

Angrily, she pulled out her phone to berate Rias and her obsession.

BUCHOU!

The pair LEFT because you kept making me read and respond to your stupid questions!

!?HUH

!?WAIT WHAT DID I DO

.UGH! Never mind

?Akeno, can you trail them for a bit

.Me and Sona will be back in a few minutes

Akeno left Rias on read.

Grumbling and unfurling bat-like wings of her own, Akeno took to the skies in the direction the two mysterious strangers seemed to be heading.

After leaving the shrine with the nice-enough but very obviously preoccupied girl, Ritsuka and Mash wandered the town a bit more, enjoying the night skies of the cityscape. A few moments passed before Mash quietly broke the silence.

“Senpai,” she said without turning. “If there had been something here…leyline or otherwise…what would we have done?”

He exhaled. “Honestly?”

She tilted her head slightly.

“I wasn’t really thinking that far ahead,” he admitted.

Mash made a soft sound. Not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh.

“That’s just like you.”

Another comfortable silence filled the air, only to be broken by Ritsuka this time around. “So,” Ritsuka said without batting an eye. “Even I could tell that she wasn’t human.”

Mash nodded. “Yes, her magical energy signature wasn’t anything like I’ve ever seen before, but you’re right–it definitely wasn’t human. And speaking of her…” She briefly glanced above her head. “You do know that she is following us, right?”

Ritsuka gave her a nod back with a small, wry smile. “Yeah. I don’t think she knows that we noticed, though.”

“Master, do you think she’s a threat?”

“Maybe, but I don’t see a need to pre-emptively attack someone who might just be curious.”

Mash hummed in response, occasionally glancing at street signs to track their position. Ritsuka looked up at the full moon. It was late enough now that they could find a place to sleep, but neither of them had said it. They weren’t ready to call it a night. Not yet.

“I think this alley leads back toward the main road,” Ritsuka offered, motioning with his chin toward a narrow gap between two buildings.

Mash turned to follow, her boots crunching softly over the grit. Then she stopped, and so did Ritsuka. Because in front of them…

Something landed with a thunderous crunch.
It landed like a shadow torn from another world.

An ugly creature, unlike anything the Chaldeans had ever seen before, towered over the alleyway, its form an amalgam of malformed human and beast. It had no symmetry–just bulging muscle where muscle didn’t belong, twisted claws where fingers once were, and a skeletal tail like an exposed spinal cord curling through the air. Its bat-like wings were tattered and wrong, its stretched membranes hanging like flags dipped in acid. Its face was the worst of it–partially melted, one eye gone, the other glowing with rabid hunger and no reason left, all smeared in the crimson glow of fresh blood.

No words, no negotiation, no demand came from the creature’s mouth. The only thing it spoke, was violence. It merely opened its jaw and let out a low, guttural screech that split the stillness like a rusted blade across concrete.

Akeno saw it the moment it emerged.

High above, her phone buzzed against her palm. She fumbled it into view, desperately trying to text Rias while keeping an eye on the monstrosity below.

RIAS!

A STRAY JUST SHOWED UP!

The reply came in seconds.

!?WHAT

?WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE

Hideous, huge, has a messed-up face, and only one eye.

.SHIT! Sona just said that sounds like the devil her peerage fought. Apparently, it was pretty strong, as even with her complete peerage, she couldn’t finish it off

Rias clenched her teeth, loud enough for everyone around her to hear.

!DAMN IT

!Just stall it Akeno

!We’ll need our whole peerage to take it down. Just focus on getting the other two to safety! We can’t have them die before they explain themselves

Akeno looked down again.

She didn’t think they had time to buy.

Below, the Stray was already lunging.

She dropped her phone and dove, lightning coalescing in her palm–but she was too far, too late. By the time she would have arrived, the two humans would have already been turned into paste.

But someone else moved first.

There was no hesitation. No second-guessing.

The knight wreathed in technology stepped forward, her shield in hand–

“Master! Awaiting your orders!”

And the Last Master of Chaldea responded by clutching his left hand, a blue glow enveloping it and the Shielder.

“Mash Kyrielight! By my orders, destroy the enemy!”

“Ortinax, maximum output! Full functionality released!”

Her words echoed like the ring of a war bell.

The armor shifted, mana coursing through its systems. Energy from her master’s enhancement wreathed itself around her limbs in a soft glow. The blunt, hammer-like edge of her shield whined as it surged to life.

“Readying Bunker Bolt for maximum output strikes!”

There was no time left.

The devil screeched, for a second time–

–and charged.

The devil thrust forward like lightning.

Not an attack of claws, but an entire body thrown like a missile meant to tear them apart. It blurred forward faster than thought, a blur of rage and hunger.

Trying to dodge it would have been useless.

Nothing that fast could ever be comprehended by a normal human.

But…

The lightning that threatened to swallow them whole–

–was met by steel.

Clang.

A violent impact that echoed through stone and bone.

It was an ugly sound at best. It was the collapse of momentum, of predation halted in an instant. The devil’s charge crumpled against a barrier it could not understand–one shaped not of armor, but of duty.

The knight’s shield surged with moonlight, completely unmarred by the beast’s ferocious attack.

She took a single step forward.

“Bunker Bolt–”

The air itself recoiled.

“–Point-blank shot!!!”

The strike was absolute.

It was not thrown–it was unleashed, a single catastrophic blow from the full weight of her shield, coupled by the added force of her thrusters. Not a swing. Not a bash. A human railgun given form, grounded in a girl who did not flinch. The point of contact erupted in a blinding white-violet light. The Stray Devil's body imploded at the core, consumed by the impact. Not just destroyed–eviscerated, leaving nothing but a collapsing husk, now basking in a shower of its own blood.

Time had stopped.

The scene lasted less than a second.

But…

The annals of humanity will remember this scene vividly, even after the last human being takes their last breath.

Chapter Text

Akeno Himejima hovered above the ruined alleyway in silence, lit only by the eerie red glow of a dissipating magic circle and the low flicker of nearby streetlamps. Below her, the perforated corpse of the stray devil twitched once, then lay still, utterly obliterated by a single point-blank blow. Beside it stood the pair responsible.

Mash Kyrielight’s shield remained raised, blood steadily dripping from its surface. Her pale lilac hair clung to her cheeks in damp strands, her breath unsteady, but not labored. Across from her, Ritsuka Fujimaru stood utterly still, his bloodstained Chaldean uniform torn at the seams, his posture simultaneously relaxed and alert. Their expressions weren’t angry, just determined, all while somehow still calm.

Akeno blinked. Only then did she realize she’d stopped breathing.

They're not even winded, thought Akeno.

Her phone vibrated again, Rias’ name popping up.

Akeno? Are you okay?? What happened?? Is everyone alright???

.I’m fine. They’re fine too

.The thing’s dead

What? How?

.They killed it. Instantly. The girl crushed it. There’s nothing but a crumpled-up corpse left

What?! I thought we’d at least need Koneko and Kiba there!

Wait, just those two managed to kill it???

.Just one, Rias

.The boy seemed to have augmented her in some way but it was the girl who took the Stray down in one strike

I. wasn’t even close to them but I could still feel the impact

Is she a Sacred Gear user or something?

No idea

We’re on our way. Kiba and Koneko are with me. Sona’s group is coming too.

Try talking to them if they’re not attacking.

.They just turned a devil the size of a shed into a piñata, Rias

I know, I know

Please, just try not to let them leave.

A brief pause.

That doesn’t mean try to force them to stay either! Your safety is still my #1 concern!

Akeno chuckled at her friend’s overprotectiveness.

.Understood. I’ll try not to die before you arrive

Sighing, Akeno tucked her phone into her sleeve and began her descent.

Confidence in posture. Grace in movement. Smile in place. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t nervous. Even so, as the air cooled and she drew nearer, the Priestess of Thunder’s breath caught again and again.

They looked so normal earlier–okay, definitely not normal, but so…unassuming? Cute, even. If it wasn’t for their Magic signatures, I’m not sure that I would have made the connection.

Her sandals landed in the dust with a soft crunch. She approached at a measured pace–deliberate, composed, and poised. The night air carried the lingering tang of iron and rot. Her heart beat a little faster, but her steps never faltered.

Ritsuka was the first to look up. He had one hand shoved in his coat pocket, the other loosely at his side. Blood caked his black hair, looking out of place with the friendly smile he was displaying. The glance he gave her was level, faintly amused.

“Hello, Miss Shrine Maiden,” he brought his free hand up to greet her. “I assume that–” he pointed at the dead Stray. “–Was your ‘landlord?’”

Akeno blinked. The line was so mundane, so human, that it caught her off guard. However, she nearly stumbled after digesting what the human just said, her blank face quickly morphing into one of indignation. The slight to the Gremory would not go uncorrected.

“How–how dare you! I have no relation to that ugly meatball sprawled out on the floor! My uh–” Akeno quickly took her phone out of her sleeve, presenting it to the duo like she had something to prove. “–landlord is who I was just texting, and for your information, is a gorgeous, young lady!”

The pair actually seemed taken aback at her outburst, evidently expecting her to have been some kind of supernatural mastermind of a serial killer. Master and Servant quickly looked at each other before nodding, a nonexistent message passing between them, before both heads of hair dropped parallel to the ground suddenly in front of Akeno.

“We are terribly sorry!” they both said.

Raising her head, the lilac-haired girl spoke up first. “Well…we knew from the temple that you already weren’t human…and you kept chasing us…”

The black-haired boy soon followed her example. “Add in the fact that you two feel similar–no offense–you kinda get where we’re coming from.”

Whatever response Akeno expected, it certainly wasn’t that.

She stared, dumbfounded, at the two teenagers still bent in apology before her. The girl’s shield still dripped gore. The boy’s coat was soaked in blood. And yet here they were, politely bowing as if they’d just insulted a store clerk.

“…you’re both ridiculous,” she muttered, massaging the bridge of her nose. “Completely ridiculous.”

Mash straightened, visibly sheepish. “Sorry. We weren’t trying to judge. Just…um…trying to stay alive.”

Ritsuka gave a tired smile as he rose to his feet. “Bit of a bad habit. We’ve had…rough introductions before.”

Akeno let out a soft, reluctant sigh, her fingers still loosely gripping the edge of her phone. Despite herself, she was beginning to relax–barely. At least enough to look at the two of them and wonder, what they were, what they were doing here, and just how much they knew.

“I can’t decide if you two are brave, reckless, or just unaware,” Akeno murmured.

“We’ve been all three,” Ritsuka said dryly. “Sometimes all at once.”

“You’re not devils,” Akeno said, studying them carefully. “But you certainly aren’t normal humans either.”

“We’re not from here.”

“I could’ve guessed that.”

Another pause.

“You came straight to my shrine,” Akeno said softly. “Why?”

Ritsuka nodded, albeit slowly. “…we were hoping it’d be connected to something. A leyline, or something like it.”

Mash glanced at him. “…we were grasping for straws, at that point,” she admitted.

“So,” Akeno said, folding her arms and tilting her head, “what would you have done if someone had been there?”

There was a pungent silence. Akeno swore she heard a crow cawing somewhere in the distance.

Ritsuka scratched the back of his head. “Honestly?”

Mash exhaled, half-defeated. “We didn’t think that far ahead.”

Akeno stared at them for a long moment…then let out a very soft sigh. “You're both ridiculous.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, when she turned suddenly, eyes narrowing.

Mash felt it before Ritsuka heard it: the flapping of membrane-like wings, and the sound of shoes meeting rooftop tiles.

First came Kiba, descending in a quiet arc. Koneko followed, landing soundlessly beside him with a faint thump, her gold eyes unreadable.

Behind them, Rias floated down like a scarlet veil drawn across the night. Her expression was guarded, calculating. Not yet hostile, but thoroughly alert.

Akeno moved slightly to the side as Rias began to touch down.

For a moment, Rias paused midair. Her brow twitched–not quite from fear, but something closer to an unexplainable discomfort. She couldn't place it. Just a flicker beneath her thoughts, a vague sense that something was off about the boy standing beside the girl with the shield. His presence could only be described as “off,” but as if her very body rejected this human before her..

“Rias,” she greeted, tone level, before noticing the subtle tick on her King’s face, silently questioning it, only to be met with a forced yet dismissive shake of her head.

Ritsuka and Mash instinctively took a half-step back, not in fear, but out of battlefield habit, bracing for escalation.

And before anyone could speak–

Another round of flapping wings.

Purple, cold, and elegant.

Sona Sitri stepped into view from the far end of the street, her glasses glinting beneath the streetlight. Behind her, the rest of her peerage soon followed, following closely behind their King, ready to draw their weapons at the smallest of provocations.

Sona experienced the same sensation as Rias, a sort of anti-compulsion; the kind of sensation that vanished the moment she tried to focus on it. She didn’t say a word either, but Tsubaki noticed the subtle stiffness in her president’s posture, and the way their eyes narrowed not in suspicion, but in instinct. Tsubaki couldn’t even tell if Sona realized her own change in demeanor, but nevertheless, the Queen’s hand inched ever closer to her naginata, ready to cut down the sources of Sona’s discomfort at a moment’s notice.

Eleven devils now surrounded Ritsuka and Mash: two Kings, nine peerage members. No weapons were raised, and no spells crackled. The tension in the air, however, thickened by the second.

Ritsuka slowly lifted both hands.

“...we come in peace?”

Rias and Sona exchanged a glance.

They weren’t enemies.

Not yet.

The quiet of Kuoh Academy’s after-hours corridors felt unusually thick. Streetlights from outside filtered in through tall windows, slanting across polished floors and casting stretched shadows behind the mismatched group as they approached the Student Council office.

The air was faintly charged. Every footstep echoed just a little too loudly, every glance lasted a fraction of a second too long, and dropped the moment they were reciprocated.

Mash noticed it too. She had kept to Ritsuka’s side since they'd entered the building. Her hands, though relaxed at her sides, flexed slightly with each step. Ritsuka, meanwhile, remained calm on the surface, offering a polite smile to anyone whose gaze lingered too long. He did his best to at least look presentable, even if flecks of dried blood still stained his clothes and hair.

Before entering the Student Council's office, Sona waved off the rest of her peerage, barring her queen, much to their confusion, which only multiplied the moment the act was quickly reciprocated by Rias after. Koneko and Kiba offered the Kings and Queens a look of concern as they entered a room with two unknown, potentially dangerous variables.

Inside the council office, the soft shuffling of paper gave way to hushed conversation as Sona Sitri sat composedly behind her desk, her countenance stern, and a small, almost unnoticeable bead of sweat trickling down her forehead.

Rias Gremory took a seat next to Sona, bearing an expression of relaxed hospitality, though the speed at which her eyes flicked over every movement Mash and Ritsuka made said otherwise.

Mash and Ritsuka sat on two hastily prepared chairs set across from the two pure-blooded devils. The arrangement was polite, almost formal, like two sides of a chessboard arrayed with barely concealed caution.

Mash folded her hands in her lap. Her expression was placid, but her eyes swept across the room with clinical precision, tracing every angle, every potential exit. Her hands never strayed far from her shield. Ritsuka leaned forward slightly, one hand resting loosely on his knee, the other brushing a drying smear of blood off his collar with absent care. 

Ritsuka was the one to break the silence. “Thanks,” he said, calm but sincere, “for sending the others out. Just the four of you makes this feel a little less like a trial room.”

Neither Sona nor Rias replied right away, but the atmosphere shifted–not by much, just enough that everyone let out a breath they had been subconsciously holding.

Sona’s eyes flicked toward Rias, but her expression didn’t change. “It’s not a trial,” she said simply. “We just want to understand, and we felt like it was best if we didn’t take such a…forceful approach.”

“Besides,” Rias added smoothly, reclining in her chair with crossed legs and a half-smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes, “if either of you were dangerous, I’m not sure having a few more people in the room would’ve made much of a difference.”

Mash blinked. Ritsuka chuckled softly under his breath.

Akeno, who had moved so she could stand behind Rias’s chair, smiled politely with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. But the slight narrowing of her eyes said she was watching for any reaction, especially from Mash.

“Well,” Ritsuka said, “this is definitely the most professional after-school detention I’ve ever been in.”

Akeno let out a surprised snort, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Even Rias cracked a smile.

Sona didn’t, instead opting to break the silence first.

“You’re currently seated in Kuoh Academy’s Student Council office,” she said, voice crisp and deliberate. “As its president, I represent the administrative arm of the school.

Beside her, Rias leaned back in her seat, one leg crossed loosely over the other. “I run the Occult Research Club,” Rias said with a small wave of her fingers. “Not exactly a student council,”

“but close enough to cause trouble.” Finished Sona with a small, almost vindictive smile. Rias gave her a light glare at that.

“Wait,” Mash said, before catching herself. “You’re…students? As in–”

“Class schedules, homework, lectures,” Rias said with mock gravity. “Truly the most infernal torments of all.”

Akeno stifled another laugh behind her sleeve, looking at Fujimaru and Mash’s reactions that screamed that they were lost. “Is it really that surprising?” She asked, a cheeky inflection in her voice.

“It’s just…” Mash glanced toward Ritsuka. “You don’t feel like normal students.”

“Yeah,” Ritsuka agreed, without any accusation in his voice, “you don’t.”

Rias’s smile widened. “We’re students, yes. But not just students.”

Sona folded her hands. “It’s best if we’re honest. You’ve clearly noticed something off about us. There’s no point pretending.”

She exchanged a quick look with everyone else in the room, who gave small nods.

“We’re devils,” Rias and Sona said plainly, the former with a deadpan expression and the latter with one of small, smug pride, both unfurling their wings as they said so.

Mash’s eyes widened just slightly. Not fear–just recalibration. Processing.

Ritsuka didn’t move. His hands were unmoving, but his gaze sharpened a fraction.

“Devils with a certain flair for theatrics, huh…” he said, though not as a question. “That…explains a few things, I guess.”

Mash tilted her head slightly toward him. 

The devils took note of the pair's reactions–no one really had a concrete expectation in mind, although they assumed it would be one of either surprise, fear, or reverie. They were met with a light degree of the first two, mild surprise and apprehension of the unknown, respectively, but the third remained absent entirely.

“Well, in the spirit of introductions,” Rias said, “I’m Rias Gremory. Heiress of the Gremory clan. Third-year.

“Sona Sitri, I’m the heiress of the Sitri clan,” said the president. “And I’m a third-year.

Mash and Ritsuka froze briefly at the mention of the names, but didn’t press any further. Yet. 

“Tsubaki Shinra,” the vice-president followed, offering a small nod. “Third-year. I’m the Student Council’s Vice-President.”

“Akeno Himejima,” the last of them said with a smile. “Third-year, and Vice-President of the Occult Research Club.”

They turned toward the other side of the table.

Ritsuka gave a faint nod to Mash before addressing the devils. “Ritsuka Fujimaru. Nineteen.”

Mash followed suit. “Mash Kyrielight. Also nineteen.”

Another beat passed. Rias and Sona exchanged a glance.

“You two are… unusual,” Tsubaki finally said.

“You took down a stray devil,” Akeno said. “Not a weak one. And you’re still standing. That’s not something ordinary humans can do.”

“Are you Sacred Gear users?” Rias asked, tilting her head. “Mages?”

Ritsuka answered calmly. “I’m a mage. Sort of.”

Mash hesitated. “I’m…something else.”

An intentionally vague answer that didn’t seem to help in the grand scheme of things. But it did, at least it narrowed things down for the devils. That was good enough for now.

Sona’s expression shifted–less skeptical, more searching.

“So then,” Rias continued gently, “if you don’t mind, we would like to know where you two are affiliated.”

Sona straightened her glasses. “Are you with the Church? The Grigori? Something else?”

Ritsuka and Mash exchanged another glance.

“We’re with Chaldea,” Ritsuka said at last. “We were separated after we we attacked by somebody. We were trying to reestablish contact when you guys–or I guess Miss Himejima–found us.”

The word “Chaldea” earned no recognition, but it was offered with enough weight that it piqued the interest of every devil in the room, even though they didn’t dare show it on their faces.

Sona frowned. “I haven’t heard of this…Chaldea before. I assume you aren’t talking about the region in Mesopotamia?”

“It’s a secret organization that’s run by Mages as well as normal humans and backed by the UN. It makes sense why devils who are, for the most part, masquerading as human students wouldn’t know about it,” said Ritsuka with a dismissive wave of his hand.

It was Rias’ turn to frown. “We might not look it, but we are relatively important people in the supernatural world. If such an organization exists, there’s a pretty high chance that we would know about it.”

“Heiresses, huh…” Ritsuka drawled out, seeing that maybe he should have paid more attention to the introductions of the two devils. “Well, no matter, everything I said was true.”

Mash chimed in. “Senpai is right. My suit was created by Chaldea’s top scientists.”

Sona exhaled at that. “...and I fail to see what your suit has anything to do with the validity of Mr. Fujimaru’s claims, but we’ll go over it for now. We have ways we can check them later.”

Mash’s cheeks tinged pink at the President’s blunt rebuttal, apparently having believed optimistically that her words would have been enough of an explanation to garner the devils’ trust.

It was Rias’ turn to ask a question. “I’ll be blunt and just say what’s on everyone’s minds.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you two threats to us?”

Mash replied, having snapped out of her previous humiliation. “As long as you all aren’t threats to humanity, we have no reason to see you as our enemies.”

“Plus, don’t think we didn’t notice that she–” he pointed to Akeno, who blinked in response. “Tried to fly down to save us when she believed that we were helpless against that thing. We obviously didn’t need it, but we appreciate the gesture, and I think it makes you guys pretty cool in my book.”

Akeno looked amused at that. “Oh? What makes you think it was out of any form of altruism? I could have just as easily been doing it out of ulterior motives.” She began to list things off, raising one finger for each she listed. “I could have been acting on someone else’s orders, trying to put you guys in my debt, trying to satiate my boredom…”

Rias’ eyes practically bugged out of her skull, and bore holes into her Queen, who apparently was trying to make things harder for everyone involved. Sona and Tsubaki, meanwhile, looked at Rias with the same expression, who was currently failing to rein in her rampaging Queen.

Mash interjected Akeno’s rambling when she was up by eight fingers. “Uh…we’ve met the sort of people who would actually do things like those, and no offense but…” She looked up and down at Akeno, who had a questioning look on her face. “...I simply can’t imagine you in their positions. That, and I agree with Senpai. None of you seem like bad people,” she finished with a warm smile.

Rias let out a breath of relief that Mash and Ritsuka seemed not to fall for Akeno’s goading, while Akeno let out a sigh of disappointment. Rias snapped her head to her Queen with a look promising bloody murder, to which Akeno refused to meet her gaze, smiling all the while.

Tsubaki unexpectedly interrupted with a cough. “So, from what you’re saying, your goals ultimately seem like good ones. Is that the same for your organization?”

“...yes, it is,” answered Ritsuka. Now, at least. A short pause preceded his response, but only Mash seemed to notice.

Rias tilted her head, as if recalibrating. “Alright. Then tell me this–where are either of you two even from? You–” she pointed at Ritsuka. “Seem to be Japanese, but you–” she turned her finger to Mash. “I can’t tell. If it’s natural, pink hair and purple eyes don’t really help identify a person’s nationality.”

“Like you guessed, I’m Japanese,” Ritsuka said.

“…Antarctica,” Mash followed, slightly more awkwardly.

Another silence.

“…It’s a long story,” she added. The Devils were content to leave it at that.

Sona opened her mouth to ask another question, but Ritsuka interjected with a raised hand. “If I may ask–this school,” he said. “Is everyone like you?”

Rias shook her head. “No. Only the members of our peerages are like us. The rest of the student body is completely human. We go to class with them, eat with them. They don’t know what we are.”

Mash’s eyebrows pinched together. “Why?”

“Well, the supernatural is already a well-guarded secret, and knowing it could get people into tro–”

“I meant, why do you choose to live among other humans?”

“Because you can’t understand people by standing above them or avoiding them. You have to live beside them. That’s the only way it feels real,” replied Sona.

An all-too familiar reasoning mused Ritsuka and Mash.

Rias nodded in agreement. “Plus, it’s a great way for us to show our worth. Managing a town like Kuoh is no small town, you know.”

Ritsuka blinked at that. “Wait–managing the town?”

“Oh? Did we neglect to mention that? We also essentially run the school as well.”

“Yes, you did, but I guess it doesn’t really matter as long as the people are content,” said Ritsuka, with a pensive expression on his face. “Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, you mentioned ‘Peerages,’” Ritsuka said. “What exactly does that mean?”

The air changed again–not because of any hostility, but because of the subject matter. The Peerage system didn’t exactly sound the best on paper.

“It’s a system,” Rias said, choosing her words. “High-ranking Devils have a way of reincarnating others into Devils. Those individuals become part of our family–our Peerage. Think of it like Chess, where we, the Kings, manage and help our families grow. We fight together. We struggle together. We succeed together. That’s what a Peerage is.”

“What do you mean by ‘Reincarnated?’” asked Mash, still apprehensive about the idea.

“Their biologies are altered to become one of a Devil’s,” Rias said quickly. “It’s never forced if that’s what you’re thinking. There’s always a choice.”

“You say that,” Ritsuka murmured, “but is that always true?”

Rias sweatdropped a bit at that. “Well–uh–yes…for the most part. Sometimes, there are those who seek to abuse the system, but the legal repercussions are so severe that no one really tries to.”

“Every reincarnated Devil here, including me and Akeno, is here voluntarily. I can attest to that.” Said Tsubaki, her hand placed over her chest.

“Indeed,” said Akeno, her eyes sharper than before. “Some of us actually owe our Kings our lives, and I’d appreciate it if you were to respect that.”

Rias gestured for Akeno to stop. “Their apprehension is totally understandable; changing your whole being is no small deal after all,” she then turned her attention back to the Chaldeans, who still looked skeptical about the whole thing. “Like we said, if someone wants to join our Peerage, then that is purely their choice. Some want more power. Some do it out of gratitude. Some do it simply because they want to live longer; we Devils can live for thousands of years after all. Their reasons may vary, but it is ultimately their choice.”

Sona nodded at Rias’ explanation. “We don’t compel. We only offer.”

There was a long silence. Behind Mash’s quiet expression was a flicker of something older–judgment in process, yet to deliver a final verdict.

Ritsuka frowned. “Just the benefits alone sound like enough of a compulsion already.”

“Maybe, but we make sure to be transparent with the negatives, too. Reincarnating obviously gives you the same weaknesses the rest of us devils have. It also means you automatically become part of the supernatural world, which you and Miss Mash already know is plenty dangerous. Most of all, we make sure they truly understand the nature of reincarnation. Even if the conditions are incomparable to slavery, servitude still is servitude.” Sona said, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible.

“…I see,” Mash said at last. She didn’t relax. But she didn’t argue.

“You don’t have to approve of it,” Rias replied. “But we ask that you at least try to understand it before passing judgment.”

A silence settled again, thicker now. The look on Mash and Ritsuka’s faces was unreadable, but at the very least, they hadn’t turned hostile.

Rias cleared her throat.

“Speaking of which…”

Everyone turned toward her.

She hesitated. Her smile was still there, but thinner now. Her fingers fidgeted slightly against the hem of her skirt. Something tight behind her eyes betrayed the poise–a shimmer of desperation? Perhaps one of hope? The two were rarely mutually exclusive.

“If I were to hypothetically offer you two a spot in my Peerage…” she began, slowly. “What would either of you…say?”

Sona’s head snapped toward her. Not abrupt. Not confrontational. But sharp enough for the motion to sting. Her eyes flared, an unspoken What the hell are you doing? Reverberating through their narrowed gleam. But beneath it, there was a trace of softness–a flicker of comprehension and pity.

Tsubaki’s gaze narrowed. Akeno’s breath caught, but she didn’t interrupt.

Mash blinked once.

“I would say that I’m honored…but no.” She said immediately. Not harshly. Not angrily. Just certain.

“I only recently got a chance to live as a normal human,” she continued. “And I want to keep living that way. On my own terms.”

Rias' eyes dimmed a bit, the moment stalling. “I understand.”

Then all eyes turned to Ritsuka.

His face remained neutral, but it was the kind of stillness that wasn’t calm. Something tight ran beneath the skin, almost like he was being hollowed out by an invisible force. His gaze drifted just slightly downward, unfocused. A strange fog passed over his eyes–quiet, grey, and hard to name. Not one of sadness, nor one of reluctance. Just a weight that seemed to come from far, far away.

Mash glanced at him, voice barely a breath. “Senpai?”

The room froze. Not because of the question, but because of how it sounded. Small. Tender. And deeply unsure.

“…I…”

He swallowed. Once. Twice. The motion of his throat looked more like someone drowning than someone speaking.

“...I’d say no, too.”

He managed it, barely. The words left like a breath too sharp for the lungs to hold. His posture didn’t shift, but his eyes flinched–just once.

Rias’s smile looked hollow. “Of course,” she said, after a breath. “No pressure. It was just…hypothetical.”

No one believed her.

She almost wanted to stop and ask why . His partner had given her a reason, so why couldn’t he? However, whatever questions that may have lingered in her mind expired the moment her eyes really set on the dark-haired boy before her.

Ritsuka hadn’t moved. He just sat there, not straight, not slouched–just there, in the most muted way a person could be. His eyes weren’t sharp or focused, like he wasn’t quite present enough to realize everyone was staring.

It wasn’t coldness. It wasn’t defiance. It was the kind of reaction you saw when the question didn’t even reach the recipient-or if it reached them too far.

The silence dragged, brittle and aimless.

Sona, who usually met discomfort with cool precision, shifted slightly where she stood, unsure. Her arms folded–an idle gesture, reserved only for when she was completely at a loss. She cast a glance toward Rias, then toward Ritsuka, then away again. Her mouth parted like she might offer a comment, but none came.

Tsubaki’s brow creased. There was no hostility in it–only hesitation, even unease. She’d seen callousness before. She’d seen apathy. But this wasn’t either. This was a kind of weariness that didn’t fit someone that young. Her eyes dropped to the floor, as if to spare him the weight of her gaze.

Akeno stood still, unusually so. She had tucked her hands behind her back, her posture graceful, but unmoving, as if unsure how to shift without drawing attention. She glanced between them all, her trademark smile having long since left her face. Instead, what replaced it was the sort of look one gave when someone had said something too personal at a dinner party, and no one knew how to change the subject.

Even the ambient sounds of Kuoh beyond the walls–the rustle of trees, the distant hum of a passing car–sounded too distant, like they didn’t belong to the same world as the silence in the room.

Mash didn’t speak either. Her expression hadn’t changed much, but her stance had. She stood closer now, not enough to make it obvious, but enough to shield him–if not with her body, then with presence. She looked at him not with alarm, not even with sadness, but with a deep, practiced understanding. An ache she didn’t know how to answer, because she’d already tried–more than once.

Ritsuka didn’t acknowledge any of it.

He just stood there, still hollow, still small, with his hands at his sides, as if the conversation had passed through him like wind through a broken window.

None of them knew him. Not really.

But even strangers could tell when someone had been emptied too deeply for words.

And in that long, awkward silence, the thought formed unspoken in each of them:

What happened to him?

It seemed like hours before Ritsuka finally seemed to realize the room was still watching him.

His eyes lifted slowly, like waking from too long a sleep. He blinked once. The silence was still there, now pressing directly against him.

His expression softened. His deadened focus, or lack thereof, clicked back into something resembling presence. A faint curve touched the corners of his lips. Not quite a smile. Not quite not.

“Oh,” he said, voice quiet but more fluid now, like he'd only just remembered they were all in the middle of a conversation. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag the mood down.”

He scratched the back of his head with one hand, the gesture casual, deliberately so. A practiced tick of someone who’d done this many times before. He even chuckled under his breath. It was light, harmless. Just enough to fill space.

“I’m, uh…still getting used to the pace around here.”

He glanced at Mash, who was already watching him, her brows slightly pinched. She didn’t smile, but she gave the slightest of nods. Not out of agreement, but to let him know she’d follow.

He exhaled through his nose, another smile forming, one that seemed to fit far more naturally this time.

“Anyway, we should probably get going. Don’t want to overstay our welcome.”

He turned, not quickly, but with a lightness that didn’t quite reach his shoulders. Like someone easing out of a room without waking whatever they’d just left behind. Mash quickly followed.

None of the Devils rose to stop him. No one knew what they would have said if they had.

Ritsuka and Mash walked side by side through Kuoh’s halls, the glow of outside streetlamps pooling at their feet in long, uneven ellipses. Every so often, a soft breeze stirred the leaves outside, but neither of them commented. They didn’t need to. The silence between them wasn’t companionable or strained–just careful, like a glass wall between them neither wanted to acknowledge or accidentally tap too hard.

Their steps fell in rhythm. It was the only sound for a while.

Eventually, Mash spoke. Her voice wasn’t uncertain, but it was too neutral. “They’ll probably ask us more questions. In the future.”

Ritsuka glanced at her. “Yeah,” he said, with an unremarkable nod. “They made the whole discussion very easy for us, all things considered.”

Mash didn’t reply. She didn’t need to.

Ritsuka’s gaze drifted forward again. His jaw flexed once, but he didn’t say anything either.

It wasn’t that they were avoiding what had happened in the council room, more just that they didn’t have any idea how to talk about it.

“…It’s strange,” Ritsuka said suddenly. “Seeing devils, who share names with our old enemies, attending a school of all things.” 

Mash kept her gaze outside. Her voice was calm, not entirely wistful–but quiet enough to carry a trace of it anyway.

“They have uniforms. Clubs. Student councils. A normal routine. Even if they’re not human, they’re allowed to…just live.”

There was no bitterness in it. Not even a hint of envy. She said it like one might observe weather patterns–dryly, distantly, as if speaking it aloud was enough.

But for Ritsuka, the line hit like a cannonball to the chest.

He turned toward her slowly. His hands curled and uncurled in his coat pockets. The ceiling lights buzzed faintly above them.

“…Mash.”

She looked over.

His brows pinched slightly, like something had just clicked.

“…wait here.”

“What?”

He was already running off, back to the Student Council office.

“Senpai???”

Mash, given her constitution, caught up to Ritsuka in an instant. He didn’t stop, not even to explain his motives.

The door to the student council office slammed open with a resounding bang .

A stack of papers jumped under Sona’s hand.

Akeno turned her head, brows lifted. Rias stiffened, her fingers pausing over the teacup she’d only just raised. Tsubaki stood frozen, still holding an open folder.

Mash stepped in behind Ritsuka, visibly flustered. “I’m sorry!” she said quickly, bowing. “I didn’t know he was going to–”

Ritsuka, in contrast, strode forward with all the presence of someone who either didn’t know how dramatic his entrance had been–that, or he was leaning into it.

“Sorry,” he said, dusting a hand along the inside of his coat. “We didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You absolutely did,” Tsubaki murmured, almost amused, but being held back by something.

Sona laid her pen down with mechanical precision, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Can I help you with something?”

Ritsuka nodded. “Yeah. We want to enroll.”

Mash audibly sucked in a breath.

Behind the desk, Akeno’s expression flickered from confusion and apprehension to something akin to amusement. Rias blinked once, lips parting. Tsubaki raised an eyebrow.

“…pardon?” Sona asked.

“Kuoh Academy,” he clarified. “We want in. You guys did say that you ran the place, right?”

Sona stared at him. Not coldly. Not dismissively. But with the kind of quiet recalculation reserved for unpredictable variables.

Mash took a small step forward, eyes wide. “Senpai, are you sure–?”

He didn’t answer her directly. His eyes remained fixed on Sona’s, steady and even. “I was a second-year. Before all this. Before Chaldea.”

There was a quiet weight behind that word. A sound like the trailing edge of something much larger.

“I didn’t get to finish. I’d like to.”

He looked at Mash again. She didn’t seem prepared to be mentioned, but he didn’t miss a beat.

“…she never even got the chance to start. I’d like that for her.”

Mash’s lips parted slightly. She didn’t say anything, but the shift in her stance, the way her hands pulled inward just slightly at her sides, said enough.

The room fell silent once more. As opposed to before, most recipients looked to the lilac-haired shielder with pity. Sona, despite refusing to look at Mash directly, furrowed her eyes in internal debate. Every other Devil in the room, who had long since known of the Sitri heir’s ambitions, could guess what she was thinking.

Rias’s smile was soft, but distant. “That’s…admirable.”

“We don’t want to cause trouble,” Ritsuka added quickly. “We’re not asking for special treatment. Just…the opportunity.”

Sona’s eyes lingered on him for several seconds. Her fingers pressed together in a slow, deliberate steeple. There was something conflicted behind them, some small crease between her brows that hadn’t been there before.

“…it’s not a simple request.”

“I know.”

“There are whole processes for these kinds of things. Of course, there’s the legal ones, like identification and proof of residence–” Sona pressed her index finger against the bridge of her glasses. “But Kuoh is a rather prestigious school as well. You two need to be able to earn your spots here.”

“I’m just asking you to consider it,” he said. “That’s all.”

Another pause.

Sona looked at her queen.

Then at Rias.

Then, finally, back at Ritsuka.

“…I’ll see what I can do.”

Ritsuka exhaled, tension slipping from his shoulders by degrees.

Mash seemed to ease, too. Only slightly. But it was enough.

He turned to leave, only to stop a few feet before the door and look back at the devils. “Wait. One last thing.”

The devils all raised their eyebrows in question.

Ritsuka scratched the back of his head. “Do you…have somewhere we can sleep tonight?”

The silence returned, heavier this time–but now full of bafflement.

“You’re joking,” Sona said.

Mash looked at the floor, deeply embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Again.”

Sona’s face didn’t change.

But her sigh was felt more than heard.

Rias, behind her, broke into open laughter. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

“I find it saves time.”

Mash groaned softly into her hand.

Akeno chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s refreshing or terrifying how direct he is.”

“Both,” Tsubaki muttered.

“Ehem,” Rias interrupted with a fake cough. On her face, despite everything, was the most genuine smile Mash and Ritsuka had seen that day, all while pointing at them in a flamboyant pose that looked like it came right out of a Shounen anime. “I like you two. You can stay at the apartment complex where my Knight lives. I’m sure I can find an extra room.”

Sona groaned, hand to her forehead. “You and your strays…”

“Hush, you. If I hadn’t offered, your bleeding heart would have still found some way to take them in somehow.”

Sona’s expression didn’t change, but a cherry hue crept up her face. “...I would not have.” Akeno’s soft giggle was joined by a faint laugh from Tsubaki, and two small but genuine smiles from Mash and Ritsuka.

Sona groaned. “You’re impossible, Rias.”

“And you’re very responsible. See? Balance.”

“…fine,” Sona muttered, waving her hand as if dismissing them, evidently having had enough of the day. “Temporarily, you’re both Rias’s responsibility.”

“Don’t worry,” Ritsuka said with a grin. “We’ll be model guests.”

This time, the tension in the room lessened–not entirely, not to the point of comfort, but enough for the atmosphere to shift.

Rias leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, with a smile tugging at her mouth. Sona still tried to carry the same blank face, but even she couldn’t fully suppress the smallest of grins. The same could be said for Tsubaki and Akeno.

Even if they were mere ghosts of smiles, it seemed that the Last Master of Chaldea had succeeded in bringing a smile to everyone once more.

After all, given enough time, even phantoms could become real.

Most of the apartment complex had gone dark. Only the occasional porch light or curtained window flickered to life in the distance. Somewhere, a cicada trilled. 

The light in the bathroom buzzed faintly overhead. Fluorescent and flickering.

Mash stood barefoot on the tile, brushing her teeth in front of the mirror. The sleeves of Rias’s borrowed pajama top had been folded twice, then given up on, left to hang halfway down her hands. Her legs were bare to the thigh, her knees faintly red from a hot shower. She leaned forward just enough for the counter to catch her weight.

She didn’t say anything when Ritsuka entered behind her, towel still around his shoulders and his shirt slightly ruffled. He stepped up right beside her.

The mirror in front of them was thin, squared with a wooden edge, and had a patch of old adhesive from a removed sticker that lingered in the top left corner. It wasn’t a pretty mirror. It was the kind you only saw in temporary housing. 

Mash’s lilac hair clung damp to her cheeks. Her eyes were focused but heavy, still dulled from everything they’d seen. She scrubbed methodically, as if this small routine could keep the world in order.

Ritsuka brushed his teeth with less rhythm. More slowly. He kept glancing up.

Their shoulders barely touched.

Mash finished first. She spat gently into the sink, rinsed her mouth, and then set her toothbrush in a cup conveniently placed on the counter.

Before leaving, she looked up, meeting his eyes.

She smiled. Not a beam. Not a grin. Just a quiet curve of reassurance. A silent “I’m here.”

Ritsuka met it with one of his own, equally as soft and honest as hers.

Then she padded away, while he remained.

For a while, he just stood there, toothbrush with a dollop of toothpaste idle in his hand, staring straight into the mirror. Their reflections were gone now. Only his remained.

The overhead light buzzed again.

His smile lingered, faintly. An imaginary clock ticked an unknowable number of times.

Then he exhaled.

Rinsed his mouth.

Wiped the mirror’s surface once with a towel.

It fogged again almost immediately after Ritsuka left.

Ritsuka entered the bedroom to be met with a hastily made bed, one blanket, and two thin pillows stacked neatly at its end. Rias had apologized for the small space and lack of multiple sleeping arrangements, but they’d accepted it without issue. There wasn’t much else in the room: a desk, a closet, and the gentle hum of night encroaching from the walls.

Mash was already beneath the covers, sitting upright, her knees drawn close. Her short hair flew freely, and her violet eyes looked at Ritsuka with warmth.

He hesitated at the doorway for a bit. All he could do was take in the sight for a brief moment before turning the lights off and joining Mash beneath the blankets.

He lay beside her, arms crossed behind his head, eyes on the ceiling.

Mash shifted slightly to give him room, though there wasn’t much to give.

“…goodnight, Senpai.” 

He turned his head slightly toward her, just enough to meet where her eyes would have been.

“Goodnight.”

They lay there in silence.

The room was still.

Eventually–

Mash spoke.

“Senpai…”

“…why didn’t you say no right away?”

The words weren’t accusatory. They were barely even curious, only concern laced them.

Ritsuka didn’t answer for several seconds.

Then–

“…because I want to live.”

A breath.

“I’ve already burned through too much.”

Another.

“The Seven Heaven Mystic code I used to fight Goetia did irreparable damage to my nerves,”

His breath shuddered at the memory. “And then there’s the Black Barrel. Each and every shot I’ve taken–it takes from me, too. I haven’t been thinking about it–I don’t want to think about it…”

He swallowed.

“...but I don’t know even know how long I have left anymore.”

His hand curled against the blanket.

“I guess…I just wanted to give myself a guarantee. A guarantee that I get to see this–all of this–through to the end, and I get to enjoy it afterward. An entirely selfish motivation.”

Mash didn’t respond at first.

Then, slowly–hesitantly–she turned toward him.

He didn’t hear her shift.

But he felt the moment her arms wrapped around him.

It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t tight. Just careful–like she wasn’t sure if it would hurt.

Mash pressed her face gently to his shoulder. She didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to.

He let his hand rest over hers.

Their breathing synced–slow, quiet, steady.

Eventually, their eyes slipped closed.

And somewhere, in a quiet corner of Kuoh, with nothing else watching but the moonlight on the wall–

The last Master of Chaldea and the lone Demi-Servant finally fell asleep.