It was only one morning. He went out for a walk. Then, everything changed when he slipped into another world. But was this really that simple? A cycling loop between specific worlds. And yet... something else is quietly brewing on the horizon.
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Aevum Interval: Clockdown of the Heavens (Multi-Fic SI Cycle)
- Thread starter Multiverse Learner 101
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Statistics (12 threadmarks, 42k words)
User Total Multiverse Learner 101 12
Chapter 1
New
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2025
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- Likes received
- 170
Author's Notes: This fic is admittedly inspired by two fics that are a favorite of mine.
* Sleeping wih the Girls by AdmiralTigercla
* Forgetting the Time by Mizuki Stone
...The first thing he noticed was that he was somewhere else.
A simple town square where automobiles passed by. His eyes looked at all of the people who passed by. They spoke in Japanese. Fortunately for him in this case, he's a Japanese American, so he can understand the language.
The last thing he remembered was simply taking a morning walk. Then he ended up here. The first thing he did was quietly draw out his phone. At least it was still there. He pressed a few buttons before placing it to his ear.
No signal. Though he could at least leave a message.
"Doctor-sensei, it's me," the young man in his 19s would say quietly. "I don't really know where I am right now. I'm somewhere in..." He looked around and saw a passerby. He asked what town this is. The civilian, an old man somewhere in his 50s, looked confused, simply said that this was Kuoh Town.
The young man blinked a little. He slowly nodded carefully and thanked the old man politely before carefully placing his phone back in his ear. "I'm... in Kuoh Town apparently..." He muttered grimly.
Like, the name was familiar. It belonged to a franchise named High School DxD. The young man didn't want to jump to quick conclusions just yet. He needed more info. For all he knew, it was probably a pure coincidence. And yet, he was not blind to Providence.
"Just thought you should know, Doctor-sensei, in case you heard my message. If you can, please trace my call," he said last, before quietly hanging up.
He gulped a little. He was alone this time. But this was not the first strangest experience he had ever been through. There was nothing much to do here except wait for a while. Quietly, he drew his hand towards his pocket, where a simple black rosary was kept. He quietly clutched it like a lifeline. His thoughts were not known, except for the action of touching his rosary.
He waited. It seemed like a good idea. Because trying to move to a place where he has no idea where may not be the best idea. Not to mention, he's probably in a Japan, so trying to approach the locals, like asking for the history of this place, would get him looked at funny. He may be a Japanese American, but he looked a little foreign, from his mother's side of things. Hence, he's got that handsome foreigner look with an Asian perfect figure. He doesn't boast about it, but he is grateful at least for how he is and what he has.
"...Umm," there was someone who tugged the left side of his shirt.
The man glanced to the left and saw... a very beautiful Italian blonde. Her eyes were green. She wore a kind of nun's habit, which was a dark teal color with light blue accents. A white veil with light blue accents covered her hair. A brown satchel was slung over her right hip. A silver cross necklace was around her neck.
He narrowed his eyes carefully, as the woman shyly explained, with that familiar voice that the man had heard when watching one anime. "Umm... I think I'm lost. Can you tell me where the church of this town happens to be?"
His heart quietly dropped.
...Oh my God.
Asia Argento.
* Sleeping wih the Girls by AdmiralTigercla
* Forgetting the Time by Mizuki Stone
...The first thing he noticed was that he was somewhere else.
A simple town square where automobiles passed by. His eyes looked at all of the people who passed by. They spoke in Japanese. Fortunately for him in this case, he's a Japanese American, so he can understand the language.
The last thing he remembered was simply taking a morning walk. Then he ended up here. The first thing he did was quietly draw out his phone. At least it was still there. He pressed a few buttons before placing it to his ear.
No signal. Though he could at least leave a message.
"Doctor-sensei, it's me," the young man in his 19s would say quietly. "I don't really know where I am right now. I'm somewhere in..." He looked around and saw a passerby. He asked what town this is. The civilian, an old man somewhere in his 50s, looked confused, simply said that this was Kuoh Town.
The young man blinked a little. He slowly nodded carefully and thanked the old man politely before carefully placing his phone back in his ear. "I'm... in Kuoh Town apparently..." He muttered grimly.
Like, the name was familiar. It belonged to a franchise named High School DxD. The young man didn't want to jump to quick conclusions just yet. He needed more info. For all he knew, it was probably a pure coincidence. And yet, he was not blind to Providence.
"Just thought you should know, Doctor-sensei, in case you heard my message. If you can, please trace my call," he said last, before quietly hanging up.
He gulped a little. He was alone this time. But this was not the first strangest experience he had ever been through. There was nothing much to do here except wait for a while. Quietly, he drew his hand towards his pocket, where a simple black rosary was kept. He quietly clutched it like a lifeline. His thoughts were not known, except for the action of touching his rosary.
He waited. It seemed like a good idea. Because trying to move to a place where he has no idea where may not be the best idea. Not to mention, he's probably in a Japan, so trying to approach the locals, like asking for the history of this place, would get him looked at funny. He may be a Japanese American, but he looked a little foreign, from his mother's side of things. Hence, he's got that handsome foreigner look with an Asian perfect figure. He doesn't boast about it, but he is grateful at least for how he is and what he has.
"...Umm," there was someone who tugged the left side of his shirt.
The man glanced to the left and saw... a very beautiful Italian blonde. Her eyes were green. She wore a kind of nun's habit, which was a dark teal color with light blue accents. A white veil with light blue accents covered her hair. A brown satchel was slung over her right hip. A silver cross necklace was around her neck.
He narrowed his eyes carefully, as the woman shyly explained, with that familiar voice that the man had heard when watching one anime. "Umm... I think I'm lost. Can you tell me where the church of this town happens to be?"
His heart quietly dropped.
...Oh my God.
Asia Argento.
Chapter 2 - Loop World 1 - High School DxD
New
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
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...The young nineteen-year-old Japanese American would look at the blonde grimly.
High School DxD.
He was in High School DxD.
For starters, that franchise was about a perverted young man named Issei Hyoudou whose traits boil down to an appreciation of the woman's body. The young man never really judged him for that, when thinking about the fact that, in the Renaissance era, plenty of writers appreciated such a figure, but back then, that was truthfully an appreciation and not mere lust. Nowadays, when people think of naked figures, they'd think of pornography, which is a personal shame in his opinion. There's a lot that can be learned about the peoples of the past eras, and the idea of modernity being the central evolutionary development felt like it was the height of spiritual arrogance.
Then, in that same franchise, there was one Asia Argento. She was one of those characters who had caught his eye when reading about the light novel. He had often wondered what Christianity was actually like in the world of High School DxD. Probably one of the strangest thoughts that he ever had, but it was true, he had been curious, in the speculative sense, just what kind of Christianity do worlds like High School DxD even espouse. It's obviously different from his own world and others.
He's a Catholic. No, not Roman Catholic. Just Catholic. Roman Catholic is a bit inaccurate, considering the Church historically consisted of the West, that is, the Latin Church (often called the Roman Church), and the East, which is the Eastern Churches like Greek Byzantine, Melkite Greek, Coptic, Syriac, and others.
Just by that very naming sequence, he did wondered if worlds like High School DxD were actually called Roman Catholic Church, not Catholic Church, and if that is so, what kind of implications would that be. The young man knew at least that High School DxD's history was radically different from his Earth. There was this Great War, but he and anybody else who had read High School DxD barely knew anything about it other than it's some kind of ancient conflict between Three Factions. Angels, Devils, and Fallen Angels.
Not to mention, the Church in High School DxD, by implication, operates differently in a sense. He'd conjecture that, based on the evidence that he saw when reading or on online discussion forums, on the surface, the Church in High School DxD may resemble his world's Church before things were much clearer, that this cannot be his Catholic Church at all, such as the fact that some members of the Church can clearly use some kind of magic system. The actual Catholic Church as a whole would never have done something like use legitimate magic systems, for it implies not just the power to control, but to act as some kind of government, which is proper only to the state.
Granted, the church and the state back then were almost inseparable, but one cannot fault the entire collective by just specific individual members alone, for the Church is both divine and human. Yes, there were Vicars of Christ that were clearly unworthy, as history dictated, but he would never judge them personally. He'd leave that up to GOD, who gave them that authority in the first place. Judging is a heavy burden that he'd rather not have to bear. It's a distraction even, a temptation to forget that there are other more beautiful things in life out there.
Not to mention, it's one thing for the church and the state to almost work together, it's another thing entirely for the church to use a literal magic system.
In the case of one Asia Argento, she was classified as some kind of Holy Maiden because she has a certain gift called a Sacred Gear. Essentially, there are specific humans, and he didn't know exactly how many of them there are, who have these special gifts which were crafted from the late God of the Bible, which is this world's version of the Judeo-Christian GOD. Well, calling him a version of the Judeo-Christian GOD personally for the young man would not be accurate to begin with. Because the Judeo-Christian GOD has no version, it would imply derivative multiplicity, which completely contradicts the Apostles Creed and the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed.
Instead, what the young man thought was, rather than the God of the Bible being a derivative of the Judeo-Christian GOD, the more proper way of thinking about him would be him being a derivative of a specific class of Middle Order beings who essentially carry God's name, by implication. Case in point, there is the case of Bathala Maykapal.
He wasn't really the Judeo-Christian GOD, yet it can't be denied that people in the Philippines used his name back in the 16th Century, when referring to the actual Judeo-Christian GOD. Meaning, there is a specific class of Middle Order beings that bears the various names of GOD for the peoples of this or that culture. That's essentially their mission. To bring the seeds, that eventually when the harvesters come, it has already been taken care of.
The God of the Bible of High School DxD in this case, while he doesn't have much information about him, mainly because the light novels barely talk about his character other than things related to the plot, such as Sacred Gears and some history about the Great War, the young man would think that at the very least, this world was not deprived of the knowledge of the actual Judeo-Christian GOD, it's just that everyone completely mistook the being from Being Itself. Not to mention, there are already powerful beings here, such as Great Red and Ophis, who clearly outrank the God of the Bible, so by definition, he can't be the actual Judeo-Christian GOD.
As to whether or not the God of the Bible of High School DxD knew the actual Being Itself, he doesn't actually know. Again, High School DxD never really provided much about him. Maybe he missed some side material, who knows, but it's what he currently has knowledge about. Not to mention, he has more than enough common sense to at least figure that not literally everything is listed in fiction. It's the same with the Gospels. It's why there are post-biblical prophetic revelations given to saints like Saint Catherine of Siena, Saint Bridget of Sweden, and other saints with lessons to tell. The Gospels form the foundation, and the explication of it is developed throughout the centuries.
"...Umm," says one shy Asia Argento, who was putting two of her index fingers into a twirl, looking contrite as she noticed how long he had been staring at her. "I'm sorry... I... If I'm bothering you..."
"No, it's alright," says the young man, kindly, while shaking his other hand in reassurance.
Now... about Asia's situation. A church? Why would Asia even ask about where the church in Kuoh was? Unless... this was long before Asia even met Issei. So, this meant... the young man would now have to assume canon is off the rails. It's too big of a divergence. Asia was supposed to ask Issei for directions, not him.
And of course, there were the fallen angels under Raynare's garrison.
Raynare was... interesting. Well, she embodied that first villain trope that you would love to hate.
Raynare was the kind of villain you couldn't hate, only sigh at. Her infamy was almost mechanical: kill the hero, start the plot, vanish.
That's just it. That's all her character was. Some villain who started Issei's path to devilhood, and mayhaps was the main cause of the trauma for why Issei couldn't just blurt out his feelings to women like before. Not that he could blame Issei personally, because the man did die on his first date, that would be realistically traumatizing for anyone.
His main concern right now would be this. He can't simply leave Asia be, because he knows what would happen if he did. She'd be in the clutches of fallen angel opportunists who would want to take advantage of her Sacred Gear, aka Twilight Healing. That meant pulling that Sacred Gear out of her, which would of course, inevitably kill her, and Rias would have no choice but to revive her with a Piece. That was practically it.
What should he do in this situation?
He can't really protect Asia from the fallen angels. For one, he's a Homo Sapien, not a Super Homo Sapien. He doesn't have legitimate superpowers. If Raynare or any of her goons spotted him, he'd die on the spot. Why would they waste time with a mere no-named human when their target is right there? Like, with Issei at least, Raynare would know, and thus she'd toy with him for her psychologically malicious preferences. But him? He's a nobody. He'd die instantly, and he wouldn't see it coming.
So that left him with one option. He's gonna have to go to Kuoh Academy. That's the only refuge that he could think of that could offer some sanctuary.
The only other problem is... how would you break this to Asia, who would not know what would hit her?
Would he have to lie to her to get her to come with him?
No, that can't be an option. Lying is just as bad as not even doing anything about Asia's situation and letting canon be. Either situation would just make him complicit to an evil. So what should he even do?
Quietly, the young man could only pray in quiet thought without opening his mouth: Come Holy Spirit, come Father of the widows and of the orphans, heavenly spouse of Mama Mary. I need your help. I am nothing without you. Send your true heavenly angels, from all nine choirs, so that I may do your will.
And...
His heart quietly steadied itself. He received no vision. He received no magic. He received no power-up. He could only look at Asia, while thinking of the first thing that came to his mind.
"...Umm, actually, I was kind of wondering if we could talk? Would you perhaps be a Christian by any chance?" he asked gently and respectfully.
Asia blinked a bit, before she eventually sported an excited and relieved look. "Why yes! Yes, I am! Why?! Do you want to talk about something of the faith?!"
"In a sense, yes, but first things first, do you mind if we take a walk somewhere while you share things with me, starting with who you are?" He asked.
"Yes, of course, I'd love to," Asia smiled cheerfully. "I am Asia Argento. What's your name?"
The young man would quietly think of a name. When it comes to this situation, he can't really use his real name, that would be dangerous, not only to himself but to the people around him. So... he quietly thought of a name that Saint Raphael the Archangel once used in the Book of Tobit.
"Azariah... my name is Azariah," the young answered with a smile.
"Azariah?" Asia looked curious, while smiling. "That's a name from the Bible. So your parents are religious, then."
"Oh yes, they are," Azariah nodded. That wasn't a lie. He really did come from a practicing Catholic family. His father was a humble working engineer, while his mother was a nurse. His family... He missed them already... "They were my first teachers."
And so... both of them quietly took a walk on the side, while a gentle wind suddenly brushed quietly, like Someone was gently smiling from both near and afar.
High School DxD.
He was in High School DxD.
For starters, that franchise was about a perverted young man named Issei Hyoudou whose traits boil down to an appreciation of the woman's body. The young man never really judged him for that, when thinking about the fact that, in the Renaissance era, plenty of writers appreciated such a figure, but back then, that was truthfully an appreciation and not mere lust. Nowadays, when people think of naked figures, they'd think of pornography, which is a personal shame in his opinion. There's a lot that can be learned about the peoples of the past eras, and the idea of modernity being the central evolutionary development felt like it was the height of spiritual arrogance.
Then, in that same franchise, there was one Asia Argento. She was one of those characters who had caught his eye when reading about the light novel. He had often wondered what Christianity was actually like in the world of High School DxD. Probably one of the strangest thoughts that he ever had, but it was true, he had been curious, in the speculative sense, just what kind of Christianity do worlds like High School DxD even espouse. It's obviously different from his own world and others.
He's a Catholic. No, not Roman Catholic. Just Catholic. Roman Catholic is a bit inaccurate, considering the Church historically consisted of the West, that is, the Latin Church (often called the Roman Church), and the East, which is the Eastern Churches like Greek Byzantine, Melkite Greek, Coptic, Syriac, and others.
Just by that very naming sequence, he did wondered if worlds like High School DxD were actually called Roman Catholic Church, not Catholic Church, and if that is so, what kind of implications would that be. The young man knew at least that High School DxD's history was radically different from his Earth. There was this Great War, but he and anybody else who had read High School DxD barely knew anything about it other than it's some kind of ancient conflict between Three Factions. Angels, Devils, and Fallen Angels.
Not to mention, the Church in High School DxD, by implication, operates differently in a sense. He'd conjecture that, based on the evidence that he saw when reading or on online discussion forums, on the surface, the Church in High School DxD may resemble his world's Church before things were much clearer, that this cannot be his Catholic Church at all, such as the fact that some members of the Church can clearly use some kind of magic system. The actual Catholic Church as a whole would never have done something like use legitimate magic systems, for it implies not just the power to control, but to act as some kind of government, which is proper only to the state.
Granted, the church and the state back then were almost inseparable, but one cannot fault the entire collective by just specific individual members alone, for the Church is both divine and human. Yes, there were Vicars of Christ that were clearly unworthy, as history dictated, but he would never judge them personally. He'd leave that up to GOD, who gave them that authority in the first place. Judging is a heavy burden that he'd rather not have to bear. It's a distraction even, a temptation to forget that there are other more beautiful things in life out there.
Not to mention, it's one thing for the church and the state to almost work together, it's another thing entirely for the church to use a literal magic system.
In the case of one Asia Argento, she was classified as some kind of Holy Maiden because she has a certain gift called a Sacred Gear. Essentially, there are specific humans, and he didn't know exactly how many of them there are, who have these special gifts which were crafted from the late God of the Bible, which is this world's version of the Judeo-Christian GOD. Well, calling him a version of the Judeo-Christian GOD personally for the young man would not be accurate to begin with. Because the Judeo-Christian GOD has no version, it would imply derivative multiplicity, which completely contradicts the Apostles Creed and the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed.
Instead, what the young man thought was, rather than the God of the Bible being a derivative of the Judeo-Christian GOD, the more proper way of thinking about him would be him being a derivative of a specific class of Middle Order beings who essentially carry God's name, by implication. Case in point, there is the case of Bathala Maykapal.
He wasn't really the Judeo-Christian GOD, yet it can't be denied that people in the Philippines used his name back in the 16th Century, when referring to the actual Judeo-Christian GOD. Meaning, there is a specific class of Middle Order beings that bears the various names of GOD for the peoples of this or that culture. That's essentially their mission. To bring the seeds, that eventually when the harvesters come, it has already been taken care of.
The God of the Bible of High School DxD in this case, while he doesn't have much information about him, mainly because the light novels barely talk about his character other than things related to the plot, such as Sacred Gears and some history about the Great War, the young man would think that at the very least, this world was not deprived of the knowledge of the actual Judeo-Christian GOD, it's just that everyone completely mistook the being from Being Itself. Not to mention, there are already powerful beings here, such as Great Red and Ophis, who clearly outrank the God of the Bible, so by definition, he can't be the actual Judeo-Christian GOD.
As to whether or not the God of the Bible of High School DxD knew the actual Being Itself, he doesn't actually know. Again, High School DxD never really provided much about him. Maybe he missed some side material, who knows, but it's what he currently has knowledge about. Not to mention, he has more than enough common sense to at least figure that not literally everything is listed in fiction. It's the same with the Gospels. It's why there are post-biblical prophetic revelations given to saints like Saint Catherine of Siena, Saint Bridget of Sweden, and other saints with lessons to tell. The Gospels form the foundation, and the explication of it is developed throughout the centuries.
"...Umm," says one shy Asia Argento, who was putting two of her index fingers into a twirl, looking contrite as she noticed how long he had been staring at her. "I'm sorry... I... If I'm bothering you..."
"No, it's alright," says the young man, kindly, while shaking his other hand in reassurance.
Now... about Asia's situation. A church? Why would Asia even ask about where the church in Kuoh was? Unless... this was long before Asia even met Issei. So, this meant... the young man would now have to assume canon is off the rails. It's too big of a divergence. Asia was supposed to ask Issei for directions, not him.
And of course, there were the fallen angels under Raynare's garrison.
Raynare was... interesting. Well, she embodied that first villain trope that you would love to hate.
Raynare was the kind of villain you couldn't hate, only sigh at. Her infamy was almost mechanical: kill the hero, start the plot, vanish.
That's just it. That's all her character was. Some villain who started Issei's path to devilhood, and mayhaps was the main cause of the trauma for why Issei couldn't just blurt out his feelings to women like before. Not that he could blame Issei personally, because the man did die on his first date, that would be realistically traumatizing for anyone.
His main concern right now would be this. He can't simply leave Asia be, because he knows what would happen if he did. She'd be in the clutches of fallen angel opportunists who would want to take advantage of her Sacred Gear, aka Twilight Healing. That meant pulling that Sacred Gear out of her, which would of course, inevitably kill her, and Rias would have no choice but to revive her with a Piece. That was practically it.
What should he do in this situation?
He can't really protect Asia from the fallen angels. For one, he's a Homo Sapien, not a Super Homo Sapien. He doesn't have legitimate superpowers. If Raynare or any of her goons spotted him, he'd die on the spot. Why would they waste time with a mere no-named human when their target is right there? Like, with Issei at least, Raynare would know, and thus she'd toy with him for her psychologically malicious preferences. But him? He's a nobody. He'd die instantly, and he wouldn't see it coming.
So that left him with one option. He's gonna have to go to Kuoh Academy. That's the only refuge that he could think of that could offer some sanctuary.
The only other problem is... how would you break this to Asia, who would not know what would hit her?
Would he have to lie to her to get her to come with him?
No, that can't be an option. Lying is just as bad as not even doing anything about Asia's situation and letting canon be. Either situation would just make him complicit to an evil. So what should he even do?
Quietly, the young man could only pray in quiet thought without opening his mouth: Come Holy Spirit, come Father of the widows and of the orphans, heavenly spouse of Mama Mary. I need your help. I am nothing without you. Send your true heavenly angels, from all nine choirs, so that I may do your will.
And...
His heart quietly steadied itself. He received no vision. He received no magic. He received no power-up. He could only look at Asia, while thinking of the first thing that came to his mind.
"...Umm, actually, I was kind of wondering if we could talk? Would you perhaps be a Christian by any chance?" he asked gently and respectfully.
Asia blinked a bit, before she eventually sported an excited and relieved look. "Why yes! Yes, I am! Why?! Do you want to talk about something of the faith?!"
"In a sense, yes, but first things first, do you mind if we take a walk somewhere while you share things with me, starting with who you are?" He asked.
"Yes, of course, I'd love to," Asia smiled cheerfully. "I am Asia Argento. What's your name?"
The young man would quietly think of a name. When it comes to this situation, he can't really use his real name, that would be dangerous, not only to himself but to the people around him. So... he quietly thought of a name that Saint Raphael the Archangel once used in the Book of Tobit.
"Azariah... my name is Azariah," the young answered with a smile.
"Azariah?" Asia looked curious, while smiling. "That's a name from the Bible. So your parents are religious, then."
"Oh yes, they are," Azariah nodded. That wasn't a lie. He really did come from a practicing Catholic family. His father was a humble working engineer, while his mother was a nurse. His family... He missed them already... "They were my first teachers."
And so... both of them quietly took a walk on the side, while a gentle wind suddenly brushed quietly, like Someone was gently smiling from both near and afar.
Chapter 3 - Loop World 1 - High School DxD
New
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2025
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- 170
...It was one long walk on the sidewalk.
The young man listened to Asia, who explained to her about her origins, about where she comes from, what she's doing here, and everything else. A lot of them were something the young man already knew based on his canon knowledge, but some others were new at least, as far as he knew. Before she came here, she lived around Italy, around somewhere near the Vatican, specifically a little closer to the Borgio district that's known for its shops and restaurants. The Italians loved their art of making food.
"...Hold on, Asia Argento isn't your real name?" The young man asked, genuinely curious.
"No," Asia shook her head with a sad smile. "When I was abandoned and taken in by the kind monks of the Roman Catholic Church, they gave me the name Asia Argento. Asia was in reference to how Francis Xavier once crossed towards the Asian Continent, which included, of course, China and Japan."
The young man thought quietly. So there are some familiar things here. There was a Francis Xavier on this Earth. Well, he's probably not the same as Saint Francis Xavier of his Earth, mainly because already, the God of the Bible of this Earth is deceased, which meant one thing. Did any of the saints on Earth know that their God was dead? Because from what he remembered in High School DxD lore, the highest positions of the Roman Catholic Church, in conjunction with those from the Angels, kept the long secret that God is dead.
Naturally, that made him think. How come the Fallen Angels and the Devils, those who at least were around during the Great War's end, never took advantage of God being dead? It was already a very potent weapon in High School DxD's politics. If anyone actually found out that the God of the Bible is dead, then there would be a massive decrease of people who pray to that God, which would mean Heaven losing the power of prayer over much of the human population, which may cause a crisis of sorts.
Essentially, the young man couldn't blame this world's Heaven partly because, without their God, it's basically trying to fan much of the fumes without the maker of those fumes even keeping things active within the established system that he left behind, and thus, it falls unto this world's Archangel Michael to carry out the duties of the God of the Bible as his successor.
He'd also assume in part that the Fallen Angels and the Devils never took advantage of such a notion because all sides were completely exhausted. If any of them moved, it was a mutual extermination that may, in fact, leave more than half of this planet completely vaporized from the fallout, and thus if that happened, the canon events wouldn't even occur, because most people may be dead, and the ones who could possibly survive may be on their last legs.
Contemplating such a possibility was uncomfortable for him, nevertheless, he had to contemplate these, in light of the True Cross of Christ Crucified. Every derivative potentiality, no matter how terrible they were, was still under Him.
"Can I ask a question?" the young man asked. "What's the Roman Catholic Church to you, Asia?"
"Oh? Well, the Roman Catholic Church is an institution that was established by the God of the Bible around 33 AD and founded by the Twelve Apostles," Asia explained with a kind, perfect smile.
God of the Bible? The young man was quiet before muttering carefully. "Do you know someone named Jesus Christ?"
Asia became thoughtful as she explained. "Hmm... that was the name of a Man who, under the authority of the God of the Bible, used to establish his Church, that's how we got the name Christians."
Wait. Pause. Something about that phrase didn't sit right. A Man? Not a Man-God, which would be the old European's way of saying, or God-Man, which is the modern American way of saying, both of which express the common belief that Christ was both God and man, a Divine Person with two natures and a human soul. But what Asia is suggesting here is something else.
"So.. would Christ, in your opinion, be a Son of God?" the young man asked carefully.
"Yes," Asia nodded, as she explained. "He came from God and from a woman named Mary."
"...But he's not the God of the Bible?" the young man asked.
"No," Asia answered. "He was clearly born like everyone else, but he is divine, no doubt about it, otherwise he would not have needed to be crucified and die for our sins, before being resurrected and taken up into heaven."
The young man was quiet and thoughtful. He was unfortunately right. This world didn't have Christianity. It's just Christianity in name only. If it were any person in his world, of course, people would think that Christ was the God of the Bible aka he's the Living God of the Scriptures, but... what Asia is effectively saying, Christ is the Son of God, but was never truly Divine in the sense of Being Itself but rather some divine human that's more of a Buddha passing enlightenment, which... meant that this version of Christianity is following an Arian offshoot.
Well, this changes things. So what about Sacred Gears like the True Longinus? It made more sense when it was powered by the death of a divine human. It's more on the lines of the death of Baldur than the actual Passion.
"Umm..." Asia would ask, with that kind smile, unaware of the young man's thoughts. "You seem to be quite good at speaking English. It was a relief to be honest. I don't really know much Japanese, so I couldn't exactly tell where I should go or whom I should talk to without bothering anyone."
"That makes sense," the young man said with a quiet nod. "Don't worry, I understand what that can be like. I'm a Japanese American, so I don't exactly fit in with my fellow Japanese."
Asia nodded with a smile, but her smile was sad. The young man at least had a clear idea why. If canon was accurate, this meant that she was essentially exiled and excommunicated. A very touchy subject. What exactly can a person like him do to make Asia give a good cheering up?
"Can I ask something?" the young man asked. "Who authorized you to head towards this church you're supposed to be heading to?"
"Hmm?" Asia paid attention before explaining. "Umm, it was a cardinal by the name of Filippo Galilei. He was the one who ensured that I would be taken care of when sending me here to Japan."
Galilei? Would this Filippo Galilei be a relation to that infamous character from High School DxD, Valper Galilei, the one who ruined Yuuto Kiba's entire life and caused the death of most of his comrades, and was excommunicated by the Church because of his actions? He can't be sure. Just because they share the same surname doesn't mean they're related.
Then again, it made more sense. Because one has to question where on earth excommunicated people like the deranged Freed Sellzen even came from? It would make sense at least that there may be some corruption going on in this world's Church's hierarchy. It made too much sense. There's no way some officials would not be keeping an eye on excommunicated members, precisely because they are excommunicated. Asia is one of those, but she was one of those who did not deserve such excommunication just for the sake of assisting an injured devil, when in point of fact, even that incident was used by an opportunist devil named Diodora Astaroth.
Asia was pretty much used by all sides. She had no escape. Just like Saint Joan of Arc.
"He never said anything more to you than just head into a church located around Kuoh?" the young man asked grimly.
"Yes, that's what he said," Asia nodded kindly. "I managed to at least get here by train from Tokyo. All I need now is to head over there and rendezvous with the church administration assigned there."
Translation, she got baited into a trap. The young man thought grimly. The only thing that awaits Asia there is the outer edge of Kuoh where excommunicated rogue exorcists and fallen angels under Raynare were lurking. He can't let them near her, but how would he break the news to Asia? That she was used once again? It would break her heart. But there was no other alternative; she had to know the truth, which was partly why they both needed to head to Kuoh Academy, which is the territory of both Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri.
If they head there, then he can fully reveal the right circumstances to Asia while also preventing any factors that could lead to Asia running away due to her heart breaking under the pressure, not because he wanted to manipulate her, because he will never do that, but because he needed to make sure nothing actually happens to Asia and prevent her from committing a mistake that would still lead to her canonical death.
He, Azariah, refused to bow before canon, for like everything else, it is a false god.
"Have you never actually questioned why you were the only one sent without any kind of security or someone to accompany you?" the young man asked grimly, yet gently.
"I..." Asia looked hesitant to answer before answering. "I actually did wonder why I was the only one being sent here without anybody else to accompany me. I asked this, and the cardinal said that it was of the utmost importance that I came to Kuoh alone."
"With all due respect, that may probably be unwise. Doesn't the Gospel teach that there should be two men being side by side together as they journey to places for missionary quest?" the young man asked, drawing out from the actual Scriptures, specifically about the seventy-two disciples.
"Umm... no, actually, if you're referring to Luke, which states that one by one is to be sent to towns and villages," Asia slightly corrected, curious while maintaining her sad smile.
The young man groaned inwardly. Even that minor detail was changed.
He remembered the line clearly: 'He sent them two by two.' It was there. It had always been there. Yet in this world, it had been edited out like a rib removed from the body.
What else in the Scriptures of this world contradicts the actual Scriptures? It's almost like the DxD's version of the Bible is promoting individualism, which was essentially the common error of those who separated from the Catholic Church. No doubt, that very minor verse would have some impact in this world's Protestant Reformation, if that still happened here.
Quietly, the young man led Asia towards another street corner where he could spot the familiar, larger Western enclosed architecture just up ahead. Kuoh Academy. One of the main settings of High School DxD.
"...Listen," the young man looked at Asia, who looked at him. "Before we head to wherever you're going, I was thinking we should stop here and go over to that school over there, Kuoh Academy."
"Hmm? Okay, but why if I may ask?" Asia asked, curious while smiling.
"Well, truthfully, I'm not actually a local around here; I just got here myself. As to how I got here... It's complicated to explain. The only thing I can say is, to actually ascertain the kind of church building you're going to go to, it's best if we ask the actual people who, well, own this territory."
"Owned?" Asia asked, before wondering. "So this town is under the jurisdiction of a faction?"
"You could say that, hence why I think it's best if we go over there, if that's not troubling you," the young man explained.
"Alright, that would indeed be more than helpful. Lead the way," Asia nodded without much effort.
The young man nodded softly before he breathed a quiet sigh. Just a few more steps... and they were on safer ground.
...Wait.
Actually, now that he thought about it, he wouldn't put it past Raynare to send someone to scout ahead and watch every intersection and alleyway of Kuoh. Which meant that Raynare may possibly be aware of him. If so, why hasn't she moved? If not so, then the clock may be ticking.
He gently grabbed Asia by the hand before speaking with a grim tone. "Let's hurry it up a little, if you don't mind," he spoke gently yet grimly. Before Asia could speak up, she and him were already walking fast and entering the gate.
The young man listened to Asia, who explained to her about her origins, about where she comes from, what she's doing here, and everything else. A lot of them were something the young man already knew based on his canon knowledge, but some others were new at least, as far as he knew. Before she came here, she lived around Italy, around somewhere near the Vatican, specifically a little closer to the Borgio district that's known for its shops and restaurants. The Italians loved their art of making food.
"...Hold on, Asia Argento isn't your real name?" The young man asked, genuinely curious.
"No," Asia shook her head with a sad smile. "When I was abandoned and taken in by the kind monks of the Roman Catholic Church, they gave me the name Asia Argento. Asia was in reference to how Francis Xavier once crossed towards the Asian Continent, which included, of course, China and Japan."
The young man thought quietly. So there are some familiar things here. There was a Francis Xavier on this Earth. Well, he's probably not the same as Saint Francis Xavier of his Earth, mainly because already, the God of the Bible of this Earth is deceased, which meant one thing. Did any of the saints on Earth know that their God was dead? Because from what he remembered in High School DxD lore, the highest positions of the Roman Catholic Church, in conjunction with those from the Angels, kept the long secret that God is dead.
Naturally, that made him think. How come the Fallen Angels and the Devils, those who at least were around during the Great War's end, never took advantage of God being dead? It was already a very potent weapon in High School DxD's politics. If anyone actually found out that the God of the Bible is dead, then there would be a massive decrease of people who pray to that God, which would mean Heaven losing the power of prayer over much of the human population, which may cause a crisis of sorts.
Essentially, the young man couldn't blame this world's Heaven partly because, without their God, it's basically trying to fan much of the fumes without the maker of those fumes even keeping things active within the established system that he left behind, and thus, it falls unto this world's Archangel Michael to carry out the duties of the God of the Bible as his successor.
He'd also assume in part that the Fallen Angels and the Devils never took advantage of such a notion because all sides were completely exhausted. If any of them moved, it was a mutual extermination that may, in fact, leave more than half of this planet completely vaporized from the fallout, and thus if that happened, the canon events wouldn't even occur, because most people may be dead, and the ones who could possibly survive may be on their last legs.
Contemplating such a possibility was uncomfortable for him, nevertheless, he had to contemplate these, in light of the True Cross of Christ Crucified. Every derivative potentiality, no matter how terrible they were, was still under Him.
"Can I ask a question?" the young man asked. "What's the Roman Catholic Church to you, Asia?"
"Oh? Well, the Roman Catholic Church is an institution that was established by the God of the Bible around 33 AD and founded by the Twelve Apostles," Asia explained with a kind, perfect smile.
God of the Bible? The young man was quiet before muttering carefully. "Do you know someone named Jesus Christ?"
Asia became thoughtful as she explained. "Hmm... that was the name of a Man who, under the authority of the God of the Bible, used to establish his Church, that's how we got the name Christians."
Wait. Pause. Something about that phrase didn't sit right. A Man? Not a Man-God, which would be the old European's way of saying, or God-Man, which is the modern American way of saying, both of which express the common belief that Christ was both God and man, a Divine Person with two natures and a human soul. But what Asia is suggesting here is something else.
"So.. would Christ, in your opinion, be a Son of God?" the young man asked carefully.
"Yes," Asia nodded, as she explained. "He came from God and from a woman named Mary."
"...But he's not the God of the Bible?" the young man asked.
"No," Asia answered. "He was clearly born like everyone else, but he is divine, no doubt about it, otherwise he would not have needed to be crucified and die for our sins, before being resurrected and taken up into heaven."
The young man was quiet and thoughtful. He was unfortunately right. This world didn't have Christianity. It's just Christianity in name only. If it were any person in his world, of course, people would think that Christ was the God of the Bible aka he's the Living God of the Scriptures, but... what Asia is effectively saying, Christ is the Son of God, but was never truly Divine in the sense of Being Itself but rather some divine human that's more of a Buddha passing enlightenment, which... meant that this version of Christianity is following an Arian offshoot.
Well, this changes things. So what about Sacred Gears like the True Longinus? It made more sense when it was powered by the death of a divine human. It's more on the lines of the death of Baldur than the actual Passion.
"Umm..." Asia would ask, with that kind smile, unaware of the young man's thoughts. "You seem to be quite good at speaking English. It was a relief to be honest. I don't really know much Japanese, so I couldn't exactly tell where I should go or whom I should talk to without bothering anyone."
"That makes sense," the young man said with a quiet nod. "Don't worry, I understand what that can be like. I'm a Japanese American, so I don't exactly fit in with my fellow Japanese."
Asia nodded with a smile, but her smile was sad. The young man at least had a clear idea why. If canon was accurate, this meant that she was essentially exiled and excommunicated. A very touchy subject. What exactly can a person like him do to make Asia give a good cheering up?
"Can I ask something?" the young man asked. "Who authorized you to head towards this church you're supposed to be heading to?"
"Hmm?" Asia paid attention before explaining. "Umm, it was a cardinal by the name of Filippo Galilei. He was the one who ensured that I would be taken care of when sending me here to Japan."
Galilei? Would this Filippo Galilei be a relation to that infamous character from High School DxD, Valper Galilei, the one who ruined Yuuto Kiba's entire life and caused the death of most of his comrades, and was excommunicated by the Church because of his actions? He can't be sure. Just because they share the same surname doesn't mean they're related.
Then again, it made more sense. Because one has to question where on earth excommunicated people like the deranged Freed Sellzen even came from? It would make sense at least that there may be some corruption going on in this world's Church's hierarchy. It made too much sense. There's no way some officials would not be keeping an eye on excommunicated members, precisely because they are excommunicated. Asia is one of those, but she was one of those who did not deserve such excommunication just for the sake of assisting an injured devil, when in point of fact, even that incident was used by an opportunist devil named Diodora Astaroth.
Asia was pretty much used by all sides. She had no escape. Just like Saint Joan of Arc.
"He never said anything more to you than just head into a church located around Kuoh?" the young man asked grimly.
"Yes, that's what he said," Asia nodded kindly. "I managed to at least get here by train from Tokyo. All I need now is to head over there and rendezvous with the church administration assigned there."
Translation, she got baited into a trap. The young man thought grimly. The only thing that awaits Asia there is the outer edge of Kuoh where excommunicated rogue exorcists and fallen angels under Raynare were lurking. He can't let them near her, but how would he break the news to Asia? That she was used once again? It would break her heart. But there was no other alternative; she had to know the truth, which was partly why they both needed to head to Kuoh Academy, which is the territory of both Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri.
If they head there, then he can fully reveal the right circumstances to Asia while also preventing any factors that could lead to Asia running away due to her heart breaking under the pressure, not because he wanted to manipulate her, because he will never do that, but because he needed to make sure nothing actually happens to Asia and prevent her from committing a mistake that would still lead to her canonical death.
He, Azariah, refused to bow before canon, for like everything else, it is a false god.
"Have you never actually questioned why you were the only one sent without any kind of security or someone to accompany you?" the young man asked grimly, yet gently.
"I..." Asia looked hesitant to answer before answering. "I actually did wonder why I was the only one being sent here without anybody else to accompany me. I asked this, and the cardinal said that it was of the utmost importance that I came to Kuoh alone."
"With all due respect, that may probably be unwise. Doesn't the Gospel teach that there should be two men being side by side together as they journey to places for missionary quest?" the young man asked, drawing out from the actual Scriptures, specifically about the seventy-two disciples.
"Umm... no, actually, if you're referring to Luke, which states that one by one is to be sent to towns and villages," Asia slightly corrected, curious while maintaining her sad smile.
The young man groaned inwardly. Even that minor detail was changed.
He remembered the line clearly: 'He sent them two by two.' It was there. It had always been there. Yet in this world, it had been edited out like a rib removed from the body.
What else in the Scriptures of this world contradicts the actual Scriptures? It's almost like the DxD's version of the Bible is promoting individualism, which was essentially the common error of those who separated from the Catholic Church. No doubt, that very minor verse would have some impact in this world's Protestant Reformation, if that still happened here.
Quietly, the young man led Asia towards another street corner where he could spot the familiar, larger Western enclosed architecture just up ahead. Kuoh Academy. One of the main settings of High School DxD.
"...Listen," the young man looked at Asia, who looked at him. "Before we head to wherever you're going, I was thinking we should stop here and go over to that school over there, Kuoh Academy."
"Hmm? Okay, but why if I may ask?" Asia asked, curious while smiling.
"Well, truthfully, I'm not actually a local around here; I just got here myself. As to how I got here... It's complicated to explain. The only thing I can say is, to actually ascertain the kind of church building you're going to go to, it's best if we ask the actual people who, well, own this territory."
"Owned?" Asia asked, before wondering. "So this town is under the jurisdiction of a faction?"
"You could say that, hence why I think it's best if we go over there, if that's not troubling you," the young man explained.
"Alright, that would indeed be more than helpful. Lead the way," Asia nodded without much effort.
The young man nodded softly before he breathed a quiet sigh. Just a few more steps... and they were on safer ground.
...Wait.
Actually, now that he thought about it, he wouldn't put it past Raynare to send someone to scout ahead and watch every intersection and alleyway of Kuoh. Which meant that Raynare may possibly be aware of him. If so, why hasn't she moved? If not so, then the clock may be ticking.
He gently grabbed Asia by the hand before speaking with a grim tone. "Let's hurry it up a little, if you don't mind," he spoke gently yet grimly. Before Asia could speak up, she and him were already walking fast and entering the gate.
trashtaker
The (un)lucky Patreon Saint of borrowed fortune
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Oh dang. Is he here to actually correct the scriptures?
Imagine that. The actual YahWeh sending him there to correct the blasphemy of the scriptures there
Imagine that. The actual YahWeh sending him there to correct the blasphemy of the scriptures there
Chapter 4 - Loop World 1 - High School DxD
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Multiverse Learner 101
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With Asia just beside him, the young man began asking around the corridors of Kuoh Academy, seeking tips and directions from the students nearby. Can they show them where the Occult Research Club is located? The students were more than helpful, at least.
...Well, maybe it kinda helped that most of the students here are female, apparently, and they instantly found the young man quite dashingly handsome. He may be a Japanese American, but that very trait is what made him quite attractive somehow. He doesn't really boast about it and is, in fact, thankful to the LORD that he has this trait. Without Him, he'd never really be handsome. Whatever handsome trait he has, it came from Him. Call him a bit old-fashioned, but that's what his parents raised him to be. Always be grateful for everything you have, because you never know what could happen later, which is why it is always important to focus on the present moment.
Now, they were heading towards the one iconic room everyone in High School DxD is familiar with. The room of the Occult Research Club. He started knocking on the door, though he was also aware that he wouldn't put it past Rias or Sona to have noticed his movements already. He was, in fact, asking around the corridors, so somebody from either the student council or the Occult Research Club must have noticed him somehow. Not to mention, it's hard not to notice Asia's current clothing, which was more on the lines of a veiled nun from the Church.
And of course, the young man knew that the relations between the Church and the Devils are quite tenous at best. Just by being associated with Asia, he may be mistaken for being associated with this world's Roman Catholic Church, which isn't the case, and he's more of a non-local who got transported out of his planet and into a completely different paradigm.
Still no word from the Doctor.
And still no response from the ones inside the room, which meant that there was no one in the room yet. Or maybe the Devils in there were testing him, who knows. He doesn't have super senses to actually notice them.
He took out his phone to check his contact list. He's quietly scrolling through who he'd have to call. He could try...
...His best friend, Richard.
He's been friends with him since forever. He glanced at Asia and quietly pondered in worry. He can't just leave her in this corridor, though. He thought about how to keep her occupied, before a thought came into his mind. He quietly lifted something out from his left pocket. It was the New Testament of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, which was a revision of the Challoner-Rheims version. There were two things that he essentially carried in his pockets whenever he traveled. A Saint Benedict Rosary and a Bible. Not an impressive toolkit from an isekai point of view, but for someone like the young man, it meant everything.
"Hey, Asia," the young man would look at her, giving her this Pocket Bible. "Take this. I'm gonna be trying to contact a friend of mine. I'll just be over there," he said, pointing towards a spot nearby. "In case you need me."
"Hmm, okay," Asia nodded, before grabbing her hands on the Bible, while the young man walked towards the spot.
Asia looked at the Bible in her hands and... she looked at the title. "...Huh?"
The New Testament of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
That's... not a name of any Bible that she ever saw before. She looked at the red bookmark, and she lifted the pages, her eyes landing on the first chapter of the Gospel of Saint John. Her eyes looked at the verses which made her... look.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God..." She slowly muttered the words. And little by little, her heart shook as her eyes widened.
...What? That can't be right. That's not how the Gospel of John was written.
She looked at the words again and continued slowly. "He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was made nothing that has been made."
That... But... that's...
"In him was life... and the life was the light of men... And the light shines in the darkness... and the darkness grasped it not..." She muttered these slowly as she could.
Why...?
Her eyes, for whatever reason, flowed tears, which rained down on her cheeks.
What... What was she looking at?
May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
Her breath suddenly hitched. She heard... the sudden, gentle lullaby of primordial morning stars. Only she can hear it. No one else. Yet their voice filled the corridors.
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)
Her eyes rained down more tears, her lips quivering, her knees threatening to kneel. As a gentle wind passed through and enveloped her entire soul.
Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)
Nothing outside was apparent, for everything looked normal.
But for Asia... she witnessed something too Ancient of Days... for the page itself from the Scriptures seemed to bounce, as her eyes beheld a vision unlike any other. Showing her a brief glimpse of something that had happened and redefined all.
The Harrowing of Hell itself.
A bright, luminous Man-God descended down across what she could only describe as spherical shapes without end, containing an infinitude of worlds. Accompanying this Man-God were plenitudes of diversified morning stars, around nine orders of governance, each its own species. They did not have wings like the angels she knew, but they were the primordial messengers before the first dawn, and their voices sang, not in war cries like the heavenly hosts of her world, but with the gentlest wrath.
May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
She bore witness to the countless infinitude of souls without end. Hominids and other strange non-hominid creatures within these spherical shapes, who were crying in tears as they beheld a Savior they had waited for since time immemorial. Their hands were lifted up as their Salvation drew nearer.
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)
She bore witness to the opposite of the morning stars, other morning stars that held a darker color, whose forms were more terrible than any fallen angel or devil of her world. They were darker spheres within darker spheres, the opposite of the bright morning stars who were the beautiful spheres that gave a prismic rainbow pattern, as they descended down in numberless myriads and were engaging these darker spheres, that were powerless and bounded, forced to submit before the authority of this Man-God who continues to descend down to all levels, up even to damnation itself.
Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)
Asia was crying so thoroughly that she kneeled completely before such Omnipotent Divine Mercy. But what was even more profound? That Mercy noticed her, looked right at her, as if He knew that she was there, separated from another aevum, watching this very moment. And He smiled.
The image of Jesus Christ in her mind... shattered... and gave way to the True and Living Son of GOD that she beheld, whose wounds shone like the brightest suns. Christ was no mere messiah that has come to establish an institution. Christ was first and foremost, Father-Forever, and the Church he built... was a family.
"...Pa...Papa," Asia muttered, in her crying hiccup.
And that same Papa... smiled so brightly, clasping her heart to His while He continues to descend down, for nowhere was beyond His reach, not even in Hell.
"Yo, my man, what's up?"
Azariah held the phone to his ear as a familiar, friendly voice echoed from the phone. Richard Daley. Your typical average millennial. In many ways, he's kind of the opposite of Azariah, not in a bad sense; it's more that he's more secular than Azariah. Well, that was before Richard met the Doctor and started to travel with him, along with Azariah.
It was actually Richard who introduced him to the wider world of anime when they were around middle school. The first anime that Azariah watched, from what he recalls, was Detective Conan. Since then, Azariah started looking into anime and, in the weirdest way one can think of at that age, compared every anime to his Catholic faith.
Richard often said that Azariah was a little too serious with anime, even for Richard, who was an avid anime fan. Fair. But Azariah wasn't really the type to turn his brain off whenever he started watching anime, and even started delving into the primary sources. There were the primary sources, secondary sources, and so forth. As much as possible, Richard would grab the primary sources first, before looking at the secondary sources and such and compare what was actually there.
Anime does have a lot of beautiful things to offer. There's a variety of hints that showcase the human imagination in drawing. Through that drawing, the viewer can experience a glimpse of strange worlds and more strange worlds. Azariah always had that inkling for speculations. What kind of worlds do these anime portray? What defines the term fiction? Is it simply a make-believe or a truth glimpsed with different levels?
"Hey, Richard. Listen, for the time being, call me Azariah," Azariah would ask, relieved that he could hear his friend's voice. He couldn't make contact with the Doctor, so he'd assume the possibility that he couldn't contact anyone else. Thank GOD he was wrong. Good thing the Doctor installed that interdimensional network into his phone in case something happens.
"Huh?" Richard asked, blinking from the other side in confusion.
"It's... a long story, so bear with me here."
And so, Azariah explained the general gist of his entire situation. About he ended up here after a morning walk. About how he met the famous Asia Argento. About how he's currently in Kuoh Academy to essentially talk with Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri about the current situation.
"...So let me get this straight, you're in High School DxD," Richard muttered in a deadpanned tone from the phone, but it covered a sense of worry.
"Well, it's a little insane to believe, but..." Azariah sported a contrite look.
"Buddy, let's be real, we're past insane a long time ago," Richard reminded. "Like, we're travelling with an interdimensional time-travelling alien for crying out loud. You getting isekai'ed is the least weird of our lives." He sighed into the phone. "So, what? Have you ever encountered Raynare yet?"
"Thankfully not yet," Azariah sighed heavily. "But I wouldn't hold my breath. That's why I even came to Kuoh Academy in the first place."
"Still though... Asia?" Richard couldn't help but have a sense of humor. Azariah could almost picture him raising an eyebrow with that amused smirk. "Like, for real, man, what's it like? How does she look in real life?"
"She's very beautiful," Azariah explained solemnly. "The art doesn't really do any justice."
Richard sighed heavily while smiling thoughtfully. "...Ahh, of course. Leave it to the Catholic to be such a gentleman without the temptations of lust getting in the way, and my name is Captain America."
"You joke, but I'd rather not tempt the temptation itself," Azariah would provide his own cultured humor before speaking seriously. "But yeah, I'm gonna need your help from now on, Richard. So, if my folks realize that I've been gone for a while, tell them that I got... you know..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell them," Richard rolled his eyes. "They won't be happy though."
"I know," Azariah muttered. "It's a miracle even that I can actually talk to you right now. I don't even know if I can still call you in the future, so I wanna make this count. So, since I'm in an isekai pickle, and I clearly still have no idea how this isekai system that I got caught up in actually works, let's assume the worst and try to contact GAIAM before things get out of hand. I would have tried to contact them myself, but..."
"Yeah, I get it," Richard nodded. "Something may be interfering with your signal, like it's a bad plot-driven narrative or something, so I'll call GAIAM immediately after you hang up."
"Thanks, man... and... yeah, it's good to hear you," Azariah spoke with a quiet grateful sigh.
"Good to hear you as well. And be safe out there, man," Richard said with a concerned tone, before adding some lighthearted humor. "Also, you better not tell me next time that you ended up with a harem."
"Again, I'd rather not tempt the temptation by answering yes or no, narrative's quite the parasite the maxim," Azariah spoke with his own humor.
"Oohh, I see what you did there, good one," Richard smirked a little before speaking in concern. "But yeah, be safe out there, and don't die on me."
"We'll do," Azariah nodded. "And another thing. Since we're possibly gonna be talking if I get the chance, you should probably think of a codename of your own."
"Hmm, a codename. How about... Spectre," Richard spoke thoughtfully.
"Spectre?" Azariah raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Like the evil James Bond organization?"
"Actually, no, I was kind of going for the light novel In/Spectre, hence Spectre," Richard clarified, rolling his eyes.
"Ah, that's why..." Azariah slowly nodded sagely.
"Buddy... what are you thinking right now?" Richard narrowed his eyes while on the phone.
"Well, not that important, other than what's related to this convo. But yeah, see you later man, if ever," Azariah said, before hanging up the phone.
He sighed before glancing at his phone. Well, it's a little late in the afternoon, around 1:00.
Eventually, he would glance back towards Asia, who...
"...!"
...Was kneeling and crying on the floor while clutching his pocket Bible. He ran over towards her and kneeled at her level.
"Hey, hey, are you alright? What's wrong?" the young man asked, gently placing his hand on his shoulder.
"...Hmm...Hmm...Pa...Papa..." Asia muttered, her tears splashing over her cheeks, while clutching Azariah's pocket Bible with her trembling hands.
Azariah had no idea what was going on. But he could tell from Asia's eyes that something had happened while he wasn't looking. He glanced at his pocket Bible, which she was clutching for dear life. His expression turns quiet and solemn. His eyes looked back and forth between that Bible and Asia.
...He didn't dare ask. At least, not right now. Somehow, he has a feeling that something special happened.
"...So, I heard you've been looking for us. Azariah-san, is it?"
That soothing, dangerously subtle yet seductive voice made the young man pay attention, as he slowly glanced to find a few people in the corridor. Both the Occult Research Club and the Student Council of this Academy. And amongst them... the crimson-haired buxom beauty Rias Gremory who had that calm yet elegant smile of a noble lady and the beautiful bob-cut, bespectacled Sona Sitri, who pushed her glasses quietly in caution.
...Okay. Anime art really did not do justice to these characters from High School DxD. No wonder Issei Hyoudou felt like he was living the dream. Speaking of that breast-loving dragon emperor, he doesn't seem to be present. He would conjecture that he's probably out doing errands as a devil. Devils do employ contracts as if they were some business deal. It was a far cry better than those older days where, as Azariah could recall, devils were actual cannibals. He could only recall the gruesome cultures of South America back home and how something darker had lurked in those cultures long before the Europeans came along.
"...Umm, ahem, yes, I was looking for you all..." Azariah paused a little before continuing as he made a little test, such as revealing this detail. "...Lady Gremory and Lady Sitri."
Both ladies of the house of noble devils narrowed their eyes and were now cautious. So were the rest of the peerages behind her. Not that surprising. When he mentioned the names Gremory and Sitri, he was essentially making known that, yes, he knows who they actually are. Humans in High School DxD, the civilian populations at least, have no actual idea that there is something that lurks over them. Angels, Fallen Angels, Devils, Gods and Buddhas, Dragons, and lots more.
Though, compared to what Azariah knew, the real Great Chain of Being...
...It's far more stranger.
"Hoh? So you really do know about us?" Rias maintained her smile, yet kept her gaze fixed. She did eventually notice the silently crying Asia, who tried, and failed, to keep her tears at bay.
"...Not literally everything, but more than enough, my lady," Azariah spoke with genuine humility. He was, after all, in the presence of nobility. And Romans 13 did come to mind. Respect authority, because every legitimate authority comes from the LORD. Rias and Sona were devils of this world, ergo, they were of the ignorant yet well-meaning Middle Orders. Respect is given to what is due. Whether young or old has nothing to do with such cases.
"...Hmm, I quite like this one, Rias," says one familiar Akeno Himejima, with her ponytail black hair swaying from her back, while her hand was raised to her chin. "Quite cute as well." She muttered with a smile, that hid layers of hidden meaning.
Rias ignored Akeno and looked at the crying Asia, and frowned in concern and caution. "What's wrong with her, if I may ask?"
Azariah grew quiet as he glanced at Asia, whom he supported as he gently raised her while they were both standing. He glanced at the Bible she was holding, and he muttered while facing. "...I'm...not sure myself, my lady."
...But he did have a suspicion that something had happened. And his heart quietly bowed before the GOD who never stopped giving miracles to His children, especially when they needed Him most at the proper hour.
...Well, maybe it kinda helped that most of the students here are female, apparently, and they instantly found the young man quite dashingly handsome. He may be a Japanese American, but that very trait is what made him quite attractive somehow. He doesn't really boast about it and is, in fact, thankful to the LORD that he has this trait. Without Him, he'd never really be handsome. Whatever handsome trait he has, it came from Him. Call him a bit old-fashioned, but that's what his parents raised him to be. Always be grateful for everything you have, because you never know what could happen later, which is why it is always important to focus on the present moment.
Now, they were heading towards the one iconic room everyone in High School DxD is familiar with. The room of the Occult Research Club. He started knocking on the door, though he was also aware that he wouldn't put it past Rias or Sona to have noticed his movements already. He was, in fact, asking around the corridors, so somebody from either the student council or the Occult Research Club must have noticed him somehow. Not to mention, it's hard not to notice Asia's current clothing, which was more on the lines of a veiled nun from the Church.
And of course, the young man knew that the relations between the Church and the Devils are quite tenous at best. Just by being associated with Asia, he may be mistaken for being associated with this world's Roman Catholic Church, which isn't the case, and he's more of a non-local who got transported out of his planet and into a completely different paradigm.
Still no word from the Doctor.
And still no response from the ones inside the room, which meant that there was no one in the room yet. Or maybe the Devils in there were testing him, who knows. He doesn't have super senses to actually notice them.
He took out his phone to check his contact list. He's quietly scrolling through who he'd have to call. He could try...
...His best friend, Richard.
He's been friends with him since forever. He glanced at Asia and quietly pondered in worry. He can't just leave her in this corridor, though. He thought about how to keep her occupied, before a thought came into his mind. He quietly lifted something out from his left pocket. It was the New Testament of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, which was a revision of the Challoner-Rheims version. There were two things that he essentially carried in his pockets whenever he traveled. A Saint Benedict Rosary and a Bible. Not an impressive toolkit from an isekai point of view, but for someone like the young man, it meant everything.
"Hey, Asia," the young man would look at her, giving her this Pocket Bible. "Take this. I'm gonna be trying to contact a friend of mine. I'll just be over there," he said, pointing towards a spot nearby. "In case you need me."
"Hmm, okay," Asia nodded, before grabbing her hands on the Bible, while the young man walked towards the spot.
Asia looked at the Bible in her hands and... she looked at the title. "...Huh?"
The New Testament of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
That's... not a name of any Bible that she ever saw before. She looked at the red bookmark, and she lifted the pages, her eyes landing on the first chapter of the Gospel of Saint John. Her eyes looked at the verses which made her... look.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God..." She slowly muttered the words. And little by little, her heart shook as her eyes widened.
...What? That can't be right. That's not how the Gospel of John was written.
She looked at the words again and continued slowly. "He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was made nothing that has been made."
That... But... that's...
"In him was life... and the life was the light of men... And the light shines in the darkness... and the darkness grasped it not..." She muttered these slowly as she could.
Why...?
Her eyes, for whatever reason, flowed tears, which rained down on her cheeks.
What... What was she looking at?
May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
Her breath suddenly hitched. She heard... the sudden, gentle lullaby of primordial morning stars. Only she can hear it. No one else. Yet their voice filled the corridors.
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)
Her eyes rained down more tears, her lips quivering, her knees threatening to kneel. As a gentle wind passed through and enveloped her entire soul.
Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)
Nothing outside was apparent, for everything looked normal.
But for Asia... she witnessed something too Ancient of Days... for the page itself from the Scriptures seemed to bounce, as her eyes beheld a vision unlike any other. Showing her a brief glimpse of something that had happened and redefined all.
The Harrowing of Hell itself.
A bright, luminous Man-God descended down across what she could only describe as spherical shapes without end, containing an infinitude of worlds. Accompanying this Man-God were plenitudes of diversified morning stars, around nine orders of governance, each its own species. They did not have wings like the angels she knew, but they were the primordial messengers before the first dawn, and their voices sang, not in war cries like the heavenly hosts of her world, but with the gentlest wrath.
May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
She bore witness to the countless infinitude of souls without end. Hominids and other strange non-hominid creatures within these spherical shapes, who were crying in tears as they beheld a Savior they had waited for since time immemorial. Their hands were lifted up as their Salvation drew nearer.
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)
She bore witness to the opposite of the morning stars, other morning stars that held a darker color, whose forms were more terrible than any fallen angel or devil of her world. They were darker spheres within darker spheres, the opposite of the bright morning stars who were the beautiful spheres that gave a prismic rainbow pattern, as they descended down in numberless myriads and were engaging these darker spheres, that were powerless and bounded, forced to submit before the authority of this Man-God who continues to descend down to all levels, up even to damnation itself.
Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)
Asia was crying so thoroughly that she kneeled completely before such Omnipotent Divine Mercy. But what was even more profound? That Mercy noticed her, looked right at her, as if He knew that she was there, separated from another aevum, watching this very moment. And He smiled.
The image of Jesus Christ in her mind... shattered... and gave way to the True and Living Son of GOD that she beheld, whose wounds shone like the brightest suns. Christ was no mere messiah that has come to establish an institution. Christ was first and foremost, Father-Forever, and the Church he built... was a family.
"...Pa...Papa," Asia muttered, in her crying hiccup.
And that same Papa... smiled so brightly, clasping her heart to His while He continues to descend down, for nowhere was beyond His reach, not even in Hell.
"Yo, my man, what's up?"
Azariah held the phone to his ear as a familiar, friendly voice echoed from the phone. Richard Daley. Your typical average millennial. In many ways, he's kind of the opposite of Azariah, not in a bad sense; it's more that he's more secular than Azariah. Well, that was before Richard met the Doctor and started to travel with him, along with Azariah.
It was actually Richard who introduced him to the wider world of anime when they were around middle school. The first anime that Azariah watched, from what he recalls, was Detective Conan. Since then, Azariah started looking into anime and, in the weirdest way one can think of at that age, compared every anime to his Catholic faith.
Richard often said that Azariah was a little too serious with anime, even for Richard, who was an avid anime fan. Fair. But Azariah wasn't really the type to turn his brain off whenever he started watching anime, and even started delving into the primary sources. There were the primary sources, secondary sources, and so forth. As much as possible, Richard would grab the primary sources first, before looking at the secondary sources and such and compare what was actually there.
Anime does have a lot of beautiful things to offer. There's a variety of hints that showcase the human imagination in drawing. Through that drawing, the viewer can experience a glimpse of strange worlds and more strange worlds. Azariah always had that inkling for speculations. What kind of worlds do these anime portray? What defines the term fiction? Is it simply a make-believe or a truth glimpsed with different levels?
"Hey, Richard. Listen, for the time being, call me Azariah," Azariah would ask, relieved that he could hear his friend's voice. He couldn't make contact with the Doctor, so he'd assume the possibility that he couldn't contact anyone else. Thank GOD he was wrong. Good thing the Doctor installed that interdimensional network into his phone in case something happens.
"Huh?" Richard asked, blinking from the other side in confusion.
"It's... a long story, so bear with me here."
And so, Azariah explained the general gist of his entire situation. About he ended up here after a morning walk. About how he met the famous Asia Argento. About how he's currently in Kuoh Academy to essentially talk with Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri about the current situation.
"...So let me get this straight, you're in High School DxD," Richard muttered in a deadpanned tone from the phone, but it covered a sense of worry.
"Well, it's a little insane to believe, but..." Azariah sported a contrite look.
"Buddy, let's be real, we're past insane a long time ago," Richard reminded. "Like, we're travelling with an interdimensional time-travelling alien for crying out loud. You getting isekai'ed is the least weird of our lives." He sighed into the phone. "So, what? Have you ever encountered Raynare yet?"
"Thankfully not yet," Azariah sighed heavily. "But I wouldn't hold my breath. That's why I even came to Kuoh Academy in the first place."
"Still though... Asia?" Richard couldn't help but have a sense of humor. Azariah could almost picture him raising an eyebrow with that amused smirk. "Like, for real, man, what's it like? How does she look in real life?"
"She's very beautiful," Azariah explained solemnly. "The art doesn't really do any justice."
Richard sighed heavily while smiling thoughtfully. "...Ahh, of course. Leave it to the Catholic to be such a gentleman without the temptations of lust getting in the way, and my name is Captain America."
"You joke, but I'd rather not tempt the temptation itself," Azariah would provide his own cultured humor before speaking seriously. "But yeah, I'm gonna need your help from now on, Richard. So, if my folks realize that I've been gone for a while, tell them that I got... you know..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell them," Richard rolled his eyes. "They won't be happy though."
"I know," Azariah muttered. "It's a miracle even that I can actually talk to you right now. I don't even know if I can still call you in the future, so I wanna make this count. So, since I'm in an isekai pickle, and I clearly still have no idea how this isekai system that I got caught up in actually works, let's assume the worst and try to contact GAIAM before things get out of hand. I would have tried to contact them myself, but..."
"Yeah, I get it," Richard nodded. "Something may be interfering with your signal, like it's a bad plot-driven narrative or something, so I'll call GAIAM immediately after you hang up."
"Thanks, man... and... yeah, it's good to hear you," Azariah spoke with a quiet grateful sigh.
"Good to hear you as well. And be safe out there, man," Richard said with a concerned tone, before adding some lighthearted humor. "Also, you better not tell me next time that you ended up with a harem."
"Again, I'd rather not tempt the temptation by answering yes or no, narrative's quite the parasite the maxim," Azariah spoke with his own humor.
"Oohh, I see what you did there, good one," Richard smirked a little before speaking in concern. "But yeah, be safe out there, and don't die on me."
"We'll do," Azariah nodded. "And another thing. Since we're possibly gonna be talking if I get the chance, you should probably think of a codename of your own."
"Hmm, a codename. How about... Spectre," Richard spoke thoughtfully.
"Spectre?" Azariah raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Like the evil James Bond organization?"
"Actually, no, I was kind of going for the light novel In/Spectre, hence Spectre," Richard clarified, rolling his eyes.
"Ah, that's why..." Azariah slowly nodded sagely.
"Buddy... what are you thinking right now?" Richard narrowed his eyes while on the phone.
"Well, not that important, other than what's related to this convo. But yeah, see you later man, if ever," Azariah said, before hanging up the phone.
He sighed before glancing at his phone. Well, it's a little late in the afternoon, around 1:00.
Eventually, he would glance back towards Asia, who...
"...!"
...Was kneeling and crying on the floor while clutching his pocket Bible. He ran over towards her and kneeled at her level.
"Hey, hey, are you alright? What's wrong?" the young man asked, gently placing his hand on his shoulder.
"...Hmm...Hmm...Pa...Papa..." Asia muttered, her tears splashing over her cheeks, while clutching Azariah's pocket Bible with her trembling hands.
Azariah had no idea what was going on. But he could tell from Asia's eyes that something had happened while he wasn't looking. He glanced at his pocket Bible, which she was clutching for dear life. His expression turns quiet and solemn. His eyes looked back and forth between that Bible and Asia.
...He didn't dare ask. At least, not right now. Somehow, he has a feeling that something special happened.
"...So, I heard you've been looking for us. Azariah-san, is it?"
That soothing, dangerously subtle yet seductive voice made the young man pay attention, as he slowly glanced to find a few people in the corridor. Both the Occult Research Club and the Student Council of this Academy. And amongst them... the crimson-haired buxom beauty Rias Gremory who had that calm yet elegant smile of a noble lady and the beautiful bob-cut, bespectacled Sona Sitri, who pushed her glasses quietly in caution.
...Okay. Anime art really did not do justice to these characters from High School DxD. No wonder Issei Hyoudou felt like he was living the dream. Speaking of that breast-loving dragon emperor, he doesn't seem to be present. He would conjecture that he's probably out doing errands as a devil. Devils do employ contracts as if they were some business deal. It was a far cry better than those older days where, as Azariah could recall, devils were actual cannibals. He could only recall the gruesome cultures of South America back home and how something darker had lurked in those cultures long before the Europeans came along.
"...Umm, ahem, yes, I was looking for you all..." Azariah paused a little before continuing as he made a little test, such as revealing this detail. "...Lady Gremory and Lady Sitri."
Both ladies of the house of noble devils narrowed their eyes and were now cautious. So were the rest of the peerages behind her. Not that surprising. When he mentioned the names Gremory and Sitri, he was essentially making known that, yes, he knows who they actually are. Humans in High School DxD, the civilian populations at least, have no actual idea that there is something that lurks over them. Angels, Fallen Angels, Devils, Gods and Buddhas, Dragons, and lots more.
Though, compared to what Azariah knew, the real Great Chain of Being...
...It's far more stranger.
"Hoh? So you really do know about us?" Rias maintained her smile, yet kept her gaze fixed. She did eventually notice the silently crying Asia, who tried, and failed, to keep her tears at bay.
"...Not literally everything, but more than enough, my lady," Azariah spoke with genuine humility. He was, after all, in the presence of nobility. And Romans 13 did come to mind. Respect authority, because every legitimate authority comes from the LORD. Rias and Sona were devils of this world, ergo, they were of the ignorant yet well-meaning Middle Orders. Respect is given to what is due. Whether young or old has nothing to do with such cases.
"...Hmm, I quite like this one, Rias," says one familiar Akeno Himejima, with her ponytail black hair swaying from her back, while her hand was raised to her chin. "Quite cute as well." She muttered with a smile, that hid layers of hidden meaning.
Rias ignored Akeno and looked at the crying Asia, and frowned in concern and caution. "What's wrong with her, if I may ask?"
Azariah grew quiet as he glanced at Asia, whom he supported as he gently raised her while they were both standing. He glanced at the Bible she was holding, and he muttered while facing. "...I'm...not sure myself, my lady."
...But he did have a suspicion that something had happened. And his heart quietly bowed before the GOD who never stopped giving miracles to His children, especially when they needed Him most at the proper hour.
trashtaker
The (un)lucky Patreon Saint of borrowed fortune
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TAGALOG JUMPSCARE!?!??
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
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I suppose in fairness, it's not like this song that isn't sung in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew came out of nowhere:
Isaiah 28:11-13
11 Nay, but by men of strange lips
and with an alien tongue
the Lord will speak to this people,
12 to whom he has said,
"This is rest;
give rest to the weary;
and this is repose";
yet they would not hear.
13 Therefore the word of the Lord will be to them
precept upon precept, precept upon precept,
line upon line, line upon line,
here a little, there a little;
that they may go, and fall backward,
and be broken, and snared, and taken.
Instead, a song was sung in a language of a very poor third-world country and suffering downtrodden nation that had more typhoons and problems in its belt.
Chapter 5 - Loop World 1 - High School DxD
New
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
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- 34
- Likes received
- 170
...Inside the old, Gothic architecture of the Occult Research Club's room, on one side, there were Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri seated on the sofa, with their tea sets on the table. Both of their peerages were flanked near them. In fact, the young man would very much notice Genshirou Saji, who is a little similar to Issei in a way, to the point where both of them tend to get along pretty well once they really get to know each other. There is also the fact that Genshirou has something of a thing with Sona, though it's because of that that Azariah actually felt bad for Saji.
Saji is as loyal as you can get, no doubt about that, but Sona really didn't personally see Saji as an optional romantic interest, as far as the young man recalled. He genuinely wished he could do something about that situation, though, considering the circumstances, he may have to build some earned trust first before he does anything.
On the other side, was the young man and Asia, who had been given a handkerchief to wipe her tearful face. She still held that pocket Bible that he gave her. Azariah couldn't help but feel the weight of his own actions. All he did was give her his Bible. A simple, ordinary action that anybody could do. He only gave his Bible to Asia because he figured that Asia needed something to preoccupy herself.
Never would he have dared to imagine that something of that action was used by the Most High. It had to be the Most High. Asia wouldn't just cry like that and clutch the real Scriptures like she was hanging on an anchor. She never actually stopped crying, even now. Azariah had seen many things in his life, but having someone actually getting a close encounter with the Most High... this is the first actual time he's ever experienced something like this. It's one thing to have read and learn about such experiences from the lives of the Saints... It's another thing entirely to be in close proximity to such an event.
...He felt too unworthy for even being within such proximity of a gift that was rare.
By a miracle, Azariah managed to keep himself steady and explained the general gist of the situation, using terms like: "All my knowledge that I'm going to share comes from anonymous yet unorthodox sources.", and it was true, in the sense that everything that he knows about High School DxD comes from a light novel author, which is the primary source, and the secondary and such sources he found here and there, either on the internet or some hearsay. He also said the term, anonymous, just to make sure that, in case something happens, he'd rather not have some High School DxD character use his information to target Ishibumi like he's the be-all, end-all of how the world of High School DxD and its timeline is gonna go.
That's actually not how it works, if we're talking in general. The line between author and creation is very subtle yet thin, all subject to the Author, with a Capital A. That meant that there is not one systematic take on it; there are multiple layers of it. Even if you use Ishibumi as a legitimate author, he's but one author making a variant of High School DxD. For all they knew, there was another radically different take of High School DxD from somewhere, that's completely different in some legitimate ways from the canon one that Azariah is familiar with.
The possibilities are both endless and multiplicity. It's the same, apparently, with the Scriptures. No need to merely bring up fiction, even back in his world, just one simple change of a Scripture verse is enough to break entire churches, that's how specifically important the Word of GOD needed to be translated in its faithful context. There's also the problem with languages in the Scriptures. For instance, let's take the terms "world" and "earth". People in the modern day simply think that it means planet Earth.
...No, it didn't.
Otherwise, Genesis 1:1 wouldn't make sense. If you take that literally, God created the heavens and the earth, and if you take that from an entirely different direction and think it's just either the physical universe or the planet Earth, then you've missed the entire point of that explosive dynamite of a passage. It really meant the entirety of the collective plurality and infinitude of orders of both spiritual (heavens) and material (earth). The Apostles Creed and the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed literally stated this.
So, learning the actual original languages, and learning about the mentalities of the ancients is far more serious when it comes to the Scriptures. English and other common languages around the world don't simply cut it anymore, and neither does browsing fiction as if that was gospel truth is also sorely not enough because the metaphysics behind it all is gone and is replaced with costume props. You'd also have to view Scripture, not from your vantage point in time, but in aevum and in the eyes and mentality of the writers of that time, otherwise, you'd be lost, and genuinely think the Judeo-Christian GOD was some tribal skyfather with egoistic and genocidal issues. And that's genuinely what some people think about Him, unfortunately.
Azariah would explain to Rias and Sona about the situation, starting with Asia first and foremost, on how she was essentially being sent to a church in the outer skirts of Kuoh.
"Hold on..." Rias narrowed her eyes a little while holding her teacup and plate. "...A church? I'm sorry to say that there hasn't been a church in Kuoh for many years now, because that church that you may be referring to has been abandoned and hasn't been used ever since."
"Yes... which leads me to inform you both that there is a rogue cadre of fallen angels and rogue excommunicated church exorcists stationed in an abandoned church somewhere on the outer skirts of Kuoh," Azariah informed them, before glancing at Asia, who... strangely never looked surprised. She was still crying.
"Fallen angels?" Sona narrowed her eyes while her one hand was raised to her chin in quiet intrigue and guarded suspicion. "And you say that you know all of this through some anonymous yet unorthodox sources. If that's the case, what makes you think we'd just accept this information at face value?"
"I said that, my lady, not for my personal sake, but to protect the ones connected to that terminology, because not even they would know I'm using their knowledge, and thus all responsibility must fall to me, since I'm the one who informs all of this in the first place," Azariah explained humbly.
"Hmm, that's quite noble of you," Rias smiled, but there was a quiet caution within her posture. "So, why exactly are you informing us of these matters? What benefits would you see from this?"
Benefits that he would see. A very careful wording that did not really seem to be about him, but in reality looks back to him. As expected from the crimson-haired heiress, and younger sister of Sirzechs Lucifer.
Azariah would humbly admit to not being an expert in politics of any sort, but that didn't mean he wanted to be ignorant about it altogether. The Kingdom of GOD is to be shared on all levels, including politics. It's because of the Kingdom of GOD that politics has a certain level of grounded stability. If one removes Christendom, one is going to end up with nations that dictate, not the moral and natural laws, but rather the laws of the state, which only see the betterment of one's own country instead of charitably thinking about both its citizens and the other nations.
That was the major trap of ignoring politics completely. The other trap is to use politics for seemingly good intentions. But good intentions can only get you so far. They say that power corrupts, and it is true. But, here's the caveat. Without Christ, power would corrupt, because every power ultimately comes from Christ, and people trying to be independent of Christ altogether would inevitably be corrupted by such power. King Henry VIII was one such unfortunate. Once a Catholic in good standing, but fell too far.
"Firstly, I would humbly request sanctuary, for Asia Argento's sake," Azariah spoke with careful yet genuine humility. "She is an excommunicated person; thus, it can be said that she is no longer associated with the Church."
"Is that true?" Rias looked at the sniffing Asia, who was still wiping her tears.
Asia quietly nodded. She couldn't speak yet, but she was aware of the conversation. Before, her being excommunicated was a sour spot. Her heart always longed to be devoted to the God of the Bible and to his Church. Being excommunicated from that church felt like she was cut off from the blessings of the Lord altogether.
...Until she realized that the Church she followed was never the real Church. And the God of the Bible was never the Trinity. And that Trinity descended down in His gentle wrath, to save all, and even went down into the depths of a state far more terrifying than any Underworld, where dark spheres within spheres that were likened to lions that wanted to devour all like beasts were coldly present.
They were the real fallen. The real devils. They did not have wings. They did not have anything that could be recognizable. Even their mere presence felt like every word of human or god fell short to describe their darker beauty and majestic terror.
In truth, the world that Asia lived through... it was a shadow of a shadow, where chains had already been set, where metaphysics itself had forgotten the Creator who loved too much.
"Secondly, since this deals with the fallen angels, I would also state that these specific fallen angels, under someone named Raynare, are completely rogue in their movements. So whatever they do does not in fact reflect the entire intent and modus operandi of all of the leaders of the Fallen Angel faction. I'm informing you both of this, so that the relationship between the Three Factions doesn't escalate from the tensions that were already present for a very long time, and by extension, I don't want humanity to get caught in the crossfire of a reignited Great War."
Every one of Rias' and Sona's peerages were looking at him intently, with their own varied reactions of quiet amazement and analytical looks.
"Ara, ara, he really is quite noble, Rias," Akeno couldn't help but chuckle, while standing just right near Rias. "Not once has he ever mentioned anything about himself."
"Maybe..." Rias muttered carefully, while maintaining her smile as she looked at Azariah intently, and he could feel that gaze bearing down on him. Rias may be young, but she was still a devil of the Gremory house, her power is as ancient, and with one flick, she could annihilate him. That's why he felt quietly intimidated, yet steady in truth. "But that still doesn't explain why you're here. You said that you aren't from around here, so where did you come from exactly?"
Azariah explained humbly. "Before I explain that, my lady, can I at least try something?"
"Try?" Rias asked, curious about what he meant.
Azariah breathes quietly with a sigh. He prayed quietly: Come, Holy Spirit, beloved spouse of Mama Mary. I invoke you now, that you may speak through my tongue, so that there will be no confusion between you, who is the True GOD, and the deceased God of the Bible of this world, who is never you.
He prayed this because he knew, going by High School DxD canon, devils have a certain trait common to them all. The name of the God of the Bible hurts them, to varying degrees. A lot of mid and high devils can shrug it off as merely a simple irritation. The lower ones, however, experience a migraine. That was why he prayed to the True LORD, so that no false prayer channels can interfere, and only the True GOD reigns. He drew this experience out of looking at every non-Christian culture. It's not that praying to other gods was bad, for praying simply meant talking to someone, and did not automatically mean worship in the modern sense. The problem, however, was that the prayer channels to these gods were tainted because of Original Sin, thus, no matter how hard people try, their gods cannot truthfully answer, for these gods were cut off from their own children, whom the Almighty tasked to shepherd.
All things were powerless before the Prince of the World, the First and Last Dark Lord, the God-King of the Ever-Descending Lightning, when, through Original Sin, he gained a certain dominion over mankind, and that included the communication channels with the varied Middle Orders.
"...I am a Catholic Christian, an adopted son of the LORD Jesus Christ who is Love Itself. I am a servant of the One True GOD who is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, to whom I am baptized and confirmed," Azariah spoke with conviction, his heart placed to his chest.
And...
Every one of the devils in the room widened their eyes. And...
...Nothing happened. After a few moments, nothing happened. No pain. No sound. No migraine. No irritation. No nothing.
"...Wait, what's happening?" says one Tsubaki Shinra, the long, black-haired, bespectacled beauty, muttered as she grew quiet and disturbed.
"...Nothing's happened," says one Koneko Toujou, as her cat ears weren't even twitching. That made her quietly take a step back as her heart felt troubled.
"I don't... feel any pain at all," says one Genshirou Saji, blinking in confusion.
And as for Asia, she covered her mouth and couldn't help but cry once again. Her mind flashed back to that grand vision where she saw endless things that she could not put into mere words. Of course, nothing happened. Of course, it didn't hurt these devils. Because the Name of the LORD was never supposed to hurt anyone.
"...Amm...Agmm...Ahmm..." She cried, as her hands covered her face, in shame for everything she had thought.
...For there was always only One who would never truly hurt His creatures. It is the creatures instead who flee from Him and break His heart.
The devils all looked at Asia, with a quiet gaze, while remaining conflicted. Azariah looked at Asia, gulping with recognition. His head bowed a little, letting his hand go down from his chest, and he maintained silence, as he still remembered...
...Asia had seen the LORD that he invoked. Of course, she would cry.
And his mind flashed to Philippians 2:9-11. The Name wasn't about any kind of power. It was about Love itself. It was Love instead who subdued all powers, so that no one will ever be hurt again.
"...What did you just invoke? Whose God did you invoke?" Rias spoke carefully, her eyes dilating in concern that rose to an extremity, making her feel twitchy.
Azariah looked back at her and simply answered with a solemn expression. "...I invoke the GOD who is not the God of the Bible, but your GOD, and the GOD of all factions, pantheons, and dragons, the GOD who never once took part in your Great War."
Rias twitched when she heard that answer. Every single one of the devils couldn't believe their ears when he just said. Sona tried to mutter a word, but as her mouth opened, she closed it. Her rational mind was completely failing her.
"...That can't be," Yuuto Kiba, who was nearby, spoke slowly, as he looked genuinely conflicted and disturbed. He, too, never felt the pain or irritation that would come when he heard Azariah invoke the True Christ and the One Triune Judeo-Christian GOD.
A silence now replaced the air. Nothing was actually happening. But that in and of itself made the entire room tense with thick air.
"...Now that I have tried what I set out to do, can I now explain the specific circumstances of where I come from?" Azariah asked humbly.
No one answered. Rias and Sona glanced at each other, for the first time, uncertain. This was not within their calculations. Azariah clearly invoked the God of the Christians... but nothing happened. It's like every meaning of what they knew about God was stripped completely, and an entire redefinition of language took place. Nothing actually happened. No special effect. No holy lights. No singing echoes. Everything was just too silent.
That can't be right. When someone invokes something, something will happen. It just depends on what is happening and who is being affected. Prayer and invocation were not mere rituals, but they were protocols—a kind of interdimensional network handshake. Every pantheon operates through energy exchange: contracts, blessings, sacrifices, worship, oaths, mana, and "faith points." Prayer, then, isn't symbolic—it's infrastructure.
When Azariah invoked GOD, he should have been plugging into that very system—a system that the devils, fallen angels, angels, and gods and buddhas all tacitly depend on. But nothing was happening. No connection. No signal. No buffer. It's like he connected to an entirely different server that was never part of any factional network.
Hence, the line was clear, silent, and infinite.
Who was that GOD that Azariah invoked?
The devils, for the first time, now felt a kind of fear that they had never experienced before, precisely because it was far too quiet.
"...You...You may," Rias muttered, a little hesitant.
And Azariah quietly nodded before continuing his testimony.
Saji is as loyal as you can get, no doubt about that, but Sona really didn't personally see Saji as an optional romantic interest, as far as the young man recalled. He genuinely wished he could do something about that situation, though, considering the circumstances, he may have to build some earned trust first before he does anything.
On the other side, was the young man and Asia, who had been given a handkerchief to wipe her tearful face. She still held that pocket Bible that he gave her. Azariah couldn't help but feel the weight of his own actions. All he did was give her his Bible. A simple, ordinary action that anybody could do. He only gave his Bible to Asia because he figured that Asia needed something to preoccupy herself.
Never would he have dared to imagine that something of that action was used by the Most High. It had to be the Most High. Asia wouldn't just cry like that and clutch the real Scriptures like she was hanging on an anchor. She never actually stopped crying, even now. Azariah had seen many things in his life, but having someone actually getting a close encounter with the Most High... this is the first actual time he's ever experienced something like this. It's one thing to have read and learn about such experiences from the lives of the Saints... It's another thing entirely to be in close proximity to such an event.
...He felt too unworthy for even being within such proximity of a gift that was rare.
By a miracle, Azariah managed to keep himself steady and explained the general gist of the situation, using terms like: "All my knowledge that I'm going to share comes from anonymous yet unorthodox sources.", and it was true, in the sense that everything that he knows about High School DxD comes from a light novel author, which is the primary source, and the secondary and such sources he found here and there, either on the internet or some hearsay. He also said the term, anonymous, just to make sure that, in case something happens, he'd rather not have some High School DxD character use his information to target Ishibumi like he's the be-all, end-all of how the world of High School DxD and its timeline is gonna go.
That's actually not how it works, if we're talking in general. The line between author and creation is very subtle yet thin, all subject to the Author, with a Capital A. That meant that there is not one systematic take on it; there are multiple layers of it. Even if you use Ishibumi as a legitimate author, he's but one author making a variant of High School DxD. For all they knew, there was another radically different take of High School DxD from somewhere, that's completely different in some legitimate ways from the canon one that Azariah is familiar with.
The possibilities are both endless and multiplicity. It's the same, apparently, with the Scriptures. No need to merely bring up fiction, even back in his world, just one simple change of a Scripture verse is enough to break entire churches, that's how specifically important the Word of GOD needed to be translated in its faithful context. There's also the problem with languages in the Scriptures. For instance, let's take the terms "world" and "earth". People in the modern day simply think that it means planet Earth.
...No, it didn't.
Otherwise, Genesis 1:1 wouldn't make sense. If you take that literally, God created the heavens and the earth, and if you take that from an entirely different direction and think it's just either the physical universe or the planet Earth, then you've missed the entire point of that explosive dynamite of a passage. It really meant the entirety of the collective plurality and infinitude of orders of both spiritual (heavens) and material (earth). The Apostles Creed and the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed literally stated this.
So, learning the actual original languages, and learning about the mentalities of the ancients is far more serious when it comes to the Scriptures. English and other common languages around the world don't simply cut it anymore, and neither does browsing fiction as if that was gospel truth is also sorely not enough because the metaphysics behind it all is gone and is replaced with costume props. You'd also have to view Scripture, not from your vantage point in time, but in aevum and in the eyes and mentality of the writers of that time, otherwise, you'd be lost, and genuinely think the Judeo-Christian GOD was some tribal skyfather with egoistic and genocidal issues. And that's genuinely what some people think about Him, unfortunately.
Azariah would explain to Rias and Sona about the situation, starting with Asia first and foremost, on how she was essentially being sent to a church in the outer skirts of Kuoh.
"Hold on..." Rias narrowed her eyes a little while holding her teacup and plate. "...A church? I'm sorry to say that there hasn't been a church in Kuoh for many years now, because that church that you may be referring to has been abandoned and hasn't been used ever since."
"Yes... which leads me to inform you both that there is a rogue cadre of fallen angels and rogue excommunicated church exorcists stationed in an abandoned church somewhere on the outer skirts of Kuoh," Azariah informed them, before glancing at Asia, who... strangely never looked surprised. She was still crying.
"Fallen angels?" Sona narrowed her eyes while her one hand was raised to her chin in quiet intrigue and guarded suspicion. "And you say that you know all of this through some anonymous yet unorthodox sources. If that's the case, what makes you think we'd just accept this information at face value?"
"I said that, my lady, not for my personal sake, but to protect the ones connected to that terminology, because not even they would know I'm using their knowledge, and thus all responsibility must fall to me, since I'm the one who informs all of this in the first place," Azariah explained humbly.
"Hmm, that's quite noble of you," Rias smiled, but there was a quiet caution within her posture. "So, why exactly are you informing us of these matters? What benefits would you see from this?"
Benefits that he would see. A very careful wording that did not really seem to be about him, but in reality looks back to him. As expected from the crimson-haired heiress, and younger sister of Sirzechs Lucifer.
Azariah would humbly admit to not being an expert in politics of any sort, but that didn't mean he wanted to be ignorant about it altogether. The Kingdom of GOD is to be shared on all levels, including politics. It's because of the Kingdom of GOD that politics has a certain level of grounded stability. If one removes Christendom, one is going to end up with nations that dictate, not the moral and natural laws, but rather the laws of the state, which only see the betterment of one's own country instead of charitably thinking about both its citizens and the other nations.
That was the major trap of ignoring politics completely. The other trap is to use politics for seemingly good intentions. But good intentions can only get you so far. They say that power corrupts, and it is true. But, here's the caveat. Without Christ, power would corrupt, because every power ultimately comes from Christ, and people trying to be independent of Christ altogether would inevitably be corrupted by such power. King Henry VIII was one such unfortunate. Once a Catholic in good standing, but fell too far.
"Firstly, I would humbly request sanctuary, for Asia Argento's sake," Azariah spoke with careful yet genuine humility. "She is an excommunicated person; thus, it can be said that she is no longer associated with the Church."
"Is that true?" Rias looked at the sniffing Asia, who was still wiping her tears.
Asia quietly nodded. She couldn't speak yet, but she was aware of the conversation. Before, her being excommunicated was a sour spot. Her heart always longed to be devoted to the God of the Bible and to his Church. Being excommunicated from that church felt like she was cut off from the blessings of the Lord altogether.
...Until she realized that the Church she followed was never the real Church. And the God of the Bible was never the Trinity. And that Trinity descended down in His gentle wrath, to save all, and even went down into the depths of a state far more terrifying than any Underworld, where dark spheres within spheres that were likened to lions that wanted to devour all like beasts were coldly present.
They were the real fallen. The real devils. They did not have wings. They did not have anything that could be recognizable. Even their mere presence felt like every word of human or god fell short to describe their darker beauty and majestic terror.
In truth, the world that Asia lived through... it was a shadow of a shadow, where chains had already been set, where metaphysics itself had forgotten the Creator who loved too much.
"Secondly, since this deals with the fallen angels, I would also state that these specific fallen angels, under someone named Raynare, are completely rogue in their movements. So whatever they do does not in fact reflect the entire intent and modus operandi of all of the leaders of the Fallen Angel faction. I'm informing you both of this, so that the relationship between the Three Factions doesn't escalate from the tensions that were already present for a very long time, and by extension, I don't want humanity to get caught in the crossfire of a reignited Great War."
Every one of Rias' and Sona's peerages were looking at him intently, with their own varied reactions of quiet amazement and analytical looks.
"Ara, ara, he really is quite noble, Rias," Akeno couldn't help but chuckle, while standing just right near Rias. "Not once has he ever mentioned anything about himself."
"Maybe..." Rias muttered carefully, while maintaining her smile as she looked at Azariah intently, and he could feel that gaze bearing down on him. Rias may be young, but she was still a devil of the Gremory house, her power is as ancient, and with one flick, she could annihilate him. That's why he felt quietly intimidated, yet steady in truth. "But that still doesn't explain why you're here. You said that you aren't from around here, so where did you come from exactly?"
Azariah explained humbly. "Before I explain that, my lady, can I at least try something?"
"Try?" Rias asked, curious about what he meant.
Azariah breathes quietly with a sigh. He prayed quietly: Come, Holy Spirit, beloved spouse of Mama Mary. I invoke you now, that you may speak through my tongue, so that there will be no confusion between you, who is the True GOD, and the deceased God of the Bible of this world, who is never you.
He prayed this because he knew, going by High School DxD canon, devils have a certain trait common to them all. The name of the God of the Bible hurts them, to varying degrees. A lot of mid and high devils can shrug it off as merely a simple irritation. The lower ones, however, experience a migraine. That was why he prayed to the True LORD, so that no false prayer channels can interfere, and only the True GOD reigns. He drew this experience out of looking at every non-Christian culture. It's not that praying to other gods was bad, for praying simply meant talking to someone, and did not automatically mean worship in the modern sense. The problem, however, was that the prayer channels to these gods were tainted because of Original Sin, thus, no matter how hard people try, their gods cannot truthfully answer, for these gods were cut off from their own children, whom the Almighty tasked to shepherd.
All things were powerless before the Prince of the World, the First and Last Dark Lord, the God-King of the Ever-Descending Lightning, when, through Original Sin, he gained a certain dominion over mankind, and that included the communication channels with the varied Middle Orders.
"...I am a Catholic Christian, an adopted son of the LORD Jesus Christ who is Love Itself. I am a servant of the One True GOD who is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, to whom I am baptized and confirmed," Azariah spoke with conviction, his heart placed to his chest.
And...
Every one of the devils in the room widened their eyes. And...
...Nothing happened. After a few moments, nothing happened. No pain. No sound. No migraine. No irritation. No nothing.
"...Wait, what's happening?" says one Tsubaki Shinra, the long, black-haired, bespectacled beauty, muttered as she grew quiet and disturbed.
"...Nothing's happened," says one Koneko Toujou, as her cat ears weren't even twitching. That made her quietly take a step back as her heart felt troubled.
"I don't... feel any pain at all," says one Genshirou Saji, blinking in confusion.
And as for Asia, she covered her mouth and couldn't help but cry once again. Her mind flashed back to that grand vision where she saw endless things that she could not put into mere words. Of course, nothing happened. Of course, it didn't hurt these devils. Because the Name of the LORD was never supposed to hurt anyone.
"...Amm...Agmm...Ahmm..." She cried, as her hands covered her face, in shame for everything she had thought.
...For there was always only One who would never truly hurt His creatures. It is the creatures instead who flee from Him and break His heart.
The devils all looked at Asia, with a quiet gaze, while remaining conflicted. Azariah looked at Asia, gulping with recognition. His head bowed a little, letting his hand go down from his chest, and he maintained silence, as he still remembered...
...Asia had seen the LORD that he invoked. Of course, she would cry.
And his mind flashed to Philippians 2:9-11. The Name wasn't about any kind of power. It was about Love itself. It was Love instead who subdued all powers, so that no one will ever be hurt again.
"...What did you just invoke? Whose God did you invoke?" Rias spoke carefully, her eyes dilating in concern that rose to an extremity, making her feel twitchy.
Azariah looked back at her and simply answered with a solemn expression. "...I invoke the GOD who is not the God of the Bible, but your GOD, and the GOD of all factions, pantheons, and dragons, the GOD who never once took part in your Great War."
Rias twitched when she heard that answer. Every single one of the devils couldn't believe their ears when he just said. Sona tried to mutter a word, but as her mouth opened, she closed it. Her rational mind was completely failing her.
"...That can't be," Yuuto Kiba, who was nearby, spoke slowly, as he looked genuinely conflicted and disturbed. He, too, never felt the pain or irritation that would come when he heard Azariah invoke the True Christ and the One Triune Judeo-Christian GOD.
A silence now replaced the air. Nothing was actually happening. But that in and of itself made the entire room tense with thick air.
"...Now that I have tried what I set out to do, can I now explain the specific circumstances of where I come from?" Azariah asked humbly.
No one answered. Rias and Sona glanced at each other, for the first time, uncertain. This was not within their calculations. Azariah clearly invoked the God of the Christians... but nothing happened. It's like every meaning of what they knew about God was stripped completely, and an entire redefinition of language took place. Nothing actually happened. No special effect. No holy lights. No singing echoes. Everything was just too silent.
That can't be right. When someone invokes something, something will happen. It just depends on what is happening and who is being affected. Prayer and invocation were not mere rituals, but they were protocols—a kind of interdimensional network handshake. Every pantheon operates through energy exchange: contracts, blessings, sacrifices, worship, oaths, mana, and "faith points." Prayer, then, isn't symbolic—it's infrastructure.
When Azariah invoked GOD, he should have been plugging into that very system—a system that the devils, fallen angels, angels, and gods and buddhas all tacitly depend on. But nothing was happening. No connection. No signal. No buffer. It's like he connected to an entirely different server that was never part of any factional network.
Hence, the line was clear, silent, and infinite.
Who was that GOD that Azariah invoked?
The devils, for the first time, now felt a kind of fear that they had never experienced before, precisely because it was far too quiet.
"...You...You may," Rias muttered, a little hesitant.
And Azariah quietly nodded before continuing his testimony.
Thread Necromancer
Creator of "mean" and/or "excessive" things
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Well this is pretty neat. Don't think I've ever seen anything like this before and I'll be watching with great interest.
trashtaker
The (un)lucky Patreon Saint of borrowed fortune
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We fixing the church and the false heaven!!!!!!
Akuma-Heika
The Devil Exists Within
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Two counterpoints, His hatred was enough to transform Samael into an entity capable of at least killing Ophis (in his OG draft, he planned on Ophis dying from his poison after affixing Ise's soul to his new body, at least according to his AN at the end of the volume; even without that. a small amount was still enough to cripple Ophis). He was also able to seal Trihexa, and entity stronger than Great Red and still having the strength to fight a war including the Nitenryuu. IMO, DxD YHWH was still in the same ballpark as the True Top Three of DxD (Great Red officially is #0, and Trihexa is unknown to the world as a whole).
Edit:
This is a complaint about Ishibumi's writing because he at least implies YHWH is weaker than Ophis, but as I stated, gives facts that run very contrary to that.
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Multiverse Learner 101
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1.) Actually, that's a fair point. In this sense, I'd probably, in-universe within the story, chalk it up to the MC not having too perfect knowledge of DxD, in the same way as some people who, while familiar with DxD, may have missed something, thus while true DxD God of the Bible can't be the actual Judeo-Christian GOD, the argument of DxD God being below Great Red and Ophis is sort of not right in a nuance sense.
Chapter 6 (1) - Point of View: Random Omnipotent Being (ROB)
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...Somewhere.
There is a race of Random Omnipotent Beings. ROBs for short. They were beings of power that predated countless multiverses, having manipulated individuals into crossing entire worlds as thoughtful experiments. These beings looked like women of beautiful figures, of form that could make mortal men fall to their knees in praises of vain haughtiness.
Amongst them, there was one whose name was Aqua Devida. Her eyes glowed in aqua. Her dress was pure white with bluish accents. It was she who had drawn out a young man from an Earth that looked too normal and down-to-earth. Unimpressive in the grand scheme of things. She merely left that young man in a loop cycle of worlds that numbered around twelve. She had the first thought to make the twelfth world a random instability, but she recalled that the last ROB who did that made a complete mess that led to the Panangelicum Council of ROBs imposing a discipline to limit such intricacies for the time being.
Twelve worlds it is. These worlds were specifics that she chose, tailored to the young man who curiously took the name of Azariah. She did not know what to truthfully think, for he is not like the rest that she and her fellow sisterhood of ROBs had dealt with. Usually, she would see panic, denial, rationalistic, meta-commenting on fiction, and more.
But this Azariah did not do so. She had only left him for a bit to perform specific administrative duties across other loop cycles, but when she came back, this Azariah had already diverged from every knowable pattern of isekai protocols.
She frowned. She remained hidden, while she quietly listened to the conversation between this Azariah and these devil princesses of Kuoh. Hold on. She noticed one Asia Argento who had been crying non-stop for some odd reason, holding some kind of pocket Bible. She narrowed a little.
The New Testament of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Oh, one of those. She was not ignorant of Christianity. She simply thought of it as interesting, seeing variations of it across loop cycles, with interesting yet relative and different configurations. Nothing too special.
But then, there was Azariah, who tried something.
"...I am a Catholic Christian, an adopted son of the LORD Jesus Christ who is Love Itself. I am a servant of the One True GOD who is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, to whom I am baptized and confirmed." The young man spoke with steady conviction, his heart placed to his chest.
...Nothing happened. Aqua Devida blinked a little, as she noticed the devils widen their eyes... before noticing that nothing was happening. No Holy Name Hurts Trope. That cannot be.
Moments passed. Nothing still happened. She saw Asia crying all the more for some reason, clutching that Bible. No, this is not possible. Azariah clearly invoked the Christian God, so something must happen; it should, at the very least, affect the devils. But nothing happened. The network of prayer and invocation was completely silent. Not even a sign of radio chatter.
"...I don't understand," she muttered, slowly disturbed and quietly shaken.
Nothing was happening. No tropes were activated. It felt too quiet.
She waited. For something. For anything to happen. But none came. No apparition. No vision. No sound. Just one eternal silence.
"...Impossible. Nothing can be silent like this," she muttered, eyes widening as she looked at Azariah. Nothing. There is no trick. She cannot detect even a tiny piece of tinkering in anything. He was too normal. But that was the problem.
Too silent. It felt like entire hours in eternity stretched for far too long. Why was there no answer? Even silence can answer. Why is this not answering? She doesn't like it. Where? When? Why?
She looked around frantically, but all she ever saw was nothing. Nothing happened. That just does not work. Something must happen. It must. What was she missing? She bit her lips, quietly shaken, wondering what... no... Azariah. He invoked the Christian God... but nothing happened. Impossible. She could detect all things, even things related to the Christian God. So... So why is nothing happening?
...Unless.
Unless the Christian God that Azariah invoked is not what she thought or had ever seen before. That very thought... terrified her completely.
There is a race of Random Omnipotent Beings. ROBs for short. They were beings of power that predated countless multiverses, having manipulated individuals into crossing entire worlds as thoughtful experiments. These beings looked like women of beautiful figures, of form that could make mortal men fall to their knees in praises of vain haughtiness.
Amongst them, there was one whose name was Aqua Devida. Her eyes glowed in aqua. Her dress was pure white with bluish accents. It was she who had drawn out a young man from an Earth that looked too normal and down-to-earth. Unimpressive in the grand scheme of things. She merely left that young man in a loop cycle of worlds that numbered around twelve. She had the first thought to make the twelfth world a random instability, but she recalled that the last ROB who did that made a complete mess that led to the Panangelicum Council of ROBs imposing a discipline to limit such intricacies for the time being.
Twelve worlds it is. These worlds were specifics that she chose, tailored to the young man who curiously took the name of Azariah. She did not know what to truthfully think, for he is not like the rest that she and her fellow sisterhood of ROBs had dealt with. Usually, she would see panic, denial, rationalistic, meta-commenting on fiction, and more.
But this Azariah did not do so. She had only left him for a bit to perform specific administrative duties across other loop cycles, but when she came back, this Azariah had already diverged from every knowable pattern of isekai protocols.
She frowned. She remained hidden, while she quietly listened to the conversation between this Azariah and these devil princesses of Kuoh. Hold on. She noticed one Asia Argento who had been crying non-stop for some odd reason, holding some kind of pocket Bible. She narrowed a little.
The New Testament of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Oh, one of those. She was not ignorant of Christianity. She simply thought of it as interesting, seeing variations of it across loop cycles, with interesting yet relative and different configurations. Nothing too special.
But then, there was Azariah, who tried something.
"...I am a Catholic Christian, an adopted son of the LORD Jesus Christ who is Love Itself. I am a servant of the One True GOD who is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, to whom I am baptized and confirmed." The young man spoke with steady conviction, his heart placed to his chest.
...Nothing happened. Aqua Devida blinked a little, as she noticed the devils widen their eyes... before noticing that nothing was happening. No Holy Name Hurts Trope. That cannot be.
Moments passed. Nothing still happened. She saw Asia crying all the more for some reason, clutching that Bible. No, this is not possible. Azariah clearly invoked the Christian God, so something must happen; it should, at the very least, affect the devils. But nothing happened. The network of prayer and invocation was completely silent. Not even a sign of radio chatter.
"...I don't understand," she muttered, slowly disturbed and quietly shaken.
Nothing was happening. No tropes were activated. It felt too quiet.
She waited. For something. For anything to happen. But none came. No apparition. No vision. No sound. Just one eternal silence.
"...Impossible. Nothing can be silent like this," she muttered, eyes widening as she looked at Azariah. Nothing. There is no trick. She cannot detect even a tiny piece of tinkering in anything. He was too normal. But that was the problem.
Too silent. It felt like entire hours in eternity stretched for far too long. Why was there no answer? Even silence can answer. Why is this not answering? She doesn't like it. Where? When? Why?
She looked around frantically, but all she ever saw was nothing. Nothing happened. That just does not work. Something must happen. It must. What was she missing? She bit her lips, quietly shaken, wondering what... no... Azariah. He invoked the Christian God... but nothing happened. Impossible. She could detect all things, even things related to the Christian God. So... So why is nothing happening?
...Unless.
Unless the Christian God that Azariah invoked is not what she thought or had ever seen before. That very thought... terrified her completely.
Chapter 6 (2) - Loop World 1 - High School DxD
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Rias Gremory, the Heiress of the House of Gremory, and younger sister of the current ruler of Devils, Sirzechs Gremory, quietly took note of everything that this Azariah person had said. Everything.
First and foremost, Azariah revealed that the name "Azariah" isn't exactly his real name, but it's his chosen name regardless, for the sake of protecting the people around him in case people were to use his identity for nefarious ends. He explained to her the following circumstances of his arrival at Kuoh Town.
"First and foremost, I came from an entirely different Earth, not only with a history radically different from your own, but with a metaphysical and spiritual paradigm that you may not be aware of..."
That was the first thing he said, before explaining about the world he comes from. He comes from an Earth that has a radically different history from the Earth that the devils were familiar with. He lived somewhere in what was called Keikan Ward, which was a location within Tokyo. Rias frowned because she had never heard of such a place, and she was a certified self-proclaimed Japanophile expert who would know absolutely everything about Japanese culture; it was practically a passionate hobby of hers.
Azariah explained that he is a simple nineteen-year-old university student, who is studying for a master's degree in theology, somewhere in an institution called Kakure University, run by the Dominican Order founded by someone called Saint Dominic de Guzman. Dominicans? Rias had never heard of Dominicans before, and she is well-versed in all religious orders within the Roman Catholic Church. But again, this young man, nineteen years of age, was claiming something outlandish. He came from an entirely different history, from an entirely different Earth, where there was no Great War, or Devil Civil War, or any other conflict that the devils could be familiar with.
...But that didn't mean his Earth was normal.
"My Earth, as insignificant as it is, is far too blessed with a numerous plurality of miracles, which nowadays, many people within my Earth simply think of unfortunately as fantasy without actually verifying for themselves just where these miraculous accounts even come from, especially when non-Christians of every walk of life have verified them with their own given testimonies," says Azariah, as he described what his Earth is truthfully like.
In his Earth, there was the Supernatural, but it was nothing that could be reduced to what Rias thought of as Supernatural. For this Earth had histories, so-called legends. His Earth was touched by a GOD who came down completely and became truly Man. A Man-GOD. A GOD who never stopped descending.
"Before man thought of the term "Isekai" and gave it a label to mean people sent to another world, there was in fact the First Isekai, and it was GOD Himself who came down and lived within the Material Order that He created," says Azariah, when describing such a feat.
He was talking about Jesus Christ. But it was not the Christ that Rias was familiar with. Azariah didn't describe Christ as some would-be divine mortal, or simply a moral teacher who distinguishes between virtue and vice. No, what Azariah was explaining was too nonsensical and completely outside any worldview.
A GOD who did not impose His Will, but drew all things to Himself—descending through the Cross, the final and complete gravity of Love.
A GOD who, when He died, went down to all abodes of the dead, all Hells that can be defined, reachable and unreachable, even beyond any definition.
A GOD who even came down to a place called the Hell of the Damned, where He acted as the Just Judge of Living Mercy.
Rias could hear Akeno Himejima's breath catch with a hitch. Even her thunder-born pride couldn't help her against the weight of the word "Hell.". She could even see Koneko Toujou twitching, eyes widened as she could not believe what she was hearing.
A GOD who saved all, universal salvation offered to all, who descended without end for all, until finally touching down even into the very state where reside beings incomprehensible who completely, utterly, and firmly rejected Him with their own free will and choice, freely inverted against His Love, and yet still, He conquered them with Just Love.
A GOD who not only rose from the dead and ascended, but a GOD who rose and ascended, bringing with Him all of the captives of all Hells, and took them home.
And that GOD even now had never stopped descending. For He left Seven Sacraments that enact that Descent in real time, forever, guarded by a Church founded on an Office established by Him, connecting all histories into Anno Domini, an unbroken line of Saint Peter the Apostle down to the present Pope of Azariah's time, Pope Apollos, who chose the name Apollos to urge theolgoians of the Church to study more thoroughly about the possibilities of non-human rational life, clearly distinguishable from Homo Sapiens and from the Nine Choirs.
The GOD who kept Descending, while Ascending beyond even All Heavens.
The GOD of Miracles, Descending and Ascending through, with, and in His Grace, Love, and Mercy, of which was a hierarchical plentitude of plurality without end.
Asia was quietly crying from her seat, covering her eyes with her face, where she listened, each word from Azariah confirmed more and more of what she in fact saw within the grand vision of the Harrowing of Hell. Christ was not merely a teacher of virtue. Christ was no mere idealist. Christ was the Living GOD of the Resurrection, YHWH Elohim Rahum, walking with His people, forever.
Akeno looked uneasy. Too uneasy. She couldn't utter a mere word. Her arms were crossed. Her hands clenched her arms. Her mind was swirling in a pause, as her ears heard Azariah of his testimony.
"What I understood as Fallen Angels and as Devils is not the same as what you use the term. I do not deny that of course, in the case of Himejima-san, she is a Fallen Angel by origin, and in your case and Lady Sitri's case, you are Devils. But the terms I used refer to something radically different. I refer of course to the same beings who had predated all creatures, before the material and spiritual universes, before the first dawn. These beings, who are called Fallen Angels and Devils, have no derivative, no version, no other, for each individual is its own species, created as Good and with Love. They do not have wings. They do not have haloes. They do not have horns. They do not think like us. One instant for us is simply lifetimes for them." Azariah explained.
Azariah explained about what he called True Angels. Not winged creatures that the devils of this world were familiar with. They were pure intellectual spirits who were the brightest of the morning stars. And above even them all... There was Lucifer.
...But it was not the kind of tale that anybody within this room ever heard of before. It was not the Lucifer of their world who bred Devilkind. No, he was speaking of another Lucifer. The Lucifer before all Lucifers.
"Lucifer... Helel ben Shachar... the most beloved Creature. The first one. The Seraph-Archangel, who was the highest above all of the Nine Choirs. The being who had once loved GOD. How long that was, of Lucifer loving GOD, is something we cannot measure, for numbers mean nothing to the concept of aeviternity. But now... no more."
Everyone couldn't help but flinch because, for whatever reason, they felt the gravity behind that statement.
"Lucifer is not an evil name. It was an office. An office that was sacred, to express the grand mission, that all are called to reflect Christ, the True Lucifer, the True Morning Star, whose rays shone with Love and Mercy. The greatest gift that GOD could ever give Lucifer Helel ben Shachar was for him to reflect Him completely and be the First Light to All Nations, which includes not just Earth, but to all spiritual and material orders. However... he saw the gift as not a gift, but as an insult. Lucifer Helel ben Shachar saw Love Itself, and saw that it is Love Itself that was wrong. It was never about humans alone. It was about Descent. Lowliness. Depths. That was the main issue for him. Lucifer Helel ben Shachar wanted to be GOD, but not as Love and Mercy, but as Wrath and Power.
And thus, a War in Heaven ignited, but it was not fought with swords or powers, but intellect and will as laws, within the Abode of the True Angels, the First Heavens. It was one instant for all, but it must have been something of a lifetime for the angels themselves, and thus, Lucifer Helel ben Shachar became Ha-Satanas, and no longer had any place for him in the First Heavens, and fell by his own choice, and crafted from within himself what would eventually be called Hell. For Lucifer Helel ben Shachar is not merely the ruler of Hell, but he is Hell, and Hell is the complete self-imposed, freely willed exile, away from all goodness, forever.
If Genesis 1:1 spoke of GOD lovingly creating all Heavens and all Earths, all orders of spiritual and material, then Genesis 1:2 spoke of the aftermath of the Tragedy of GOD's broken Heart, where, because of free will, Love can be rejected by any creature. Lucifer Helel ben Shachar was the first, and he set the pattern that all who reject Love now align with Lucifer's will, becoming his slaves, and through that, he carved His own Kingdom of Hell from there.
That is the real meaning of Genesis 1:2. Ha-Satanas. Then the fallen angels who joined him. Then the other middle natures who were neither angel nor men, but rebels. All of them, termed with the words Shedim and Daimones. That is the True Kingdom of Hell, an Empire of Sin and Death that stretched even to the physical matter," Azariah spoke with a solemn and grim tone.
Everyone became totally silent. Kiba was twitching, his hands twitched, as he could barely even mutter a word. He was once of the Roman Catholic Church before Rias eventually rescued him from the twisted experiments of one of its bishops. He's heard about the story of the Fall, but not like this. Not at this scale and not at this magnitude.
Tsubaki Shinra felt her tongue drying. Before she was Sona's right-hand woman, she was once of the Shinra Clan, who were heavily versed in Shinto lore. What she thought about Christianity was that it never accommodated any god except for one. That was monotheism for the Shinto mind's understanding. Too restrictive. Too limited. Whereas for the Shinto, it was far too diversified.
...But now, Azariah was saying no to all of those preconceptions, that real Christianity does acknowledge other beings instead of dismissing them completely, what people called kami, and yet, the major difference is that it takes a clear divide between the One Triune Judeo-Christian GOD, and all of the gods below Him. True Monotheism was, in fact, acknowledgment of GOD as Sovereign Creator of All, which presupposes the infinitude of possibilities that, even in speculative, GOD created others besides man and angel.
Nobody could say a word as the minutes ticked. It was... too grand. Too... nonsensical. Too... mind-breaking.
One common thought that passed into their minds and hearts was this.
...What kind of GOD was Azariah worshipping and proclaiming?
The young man, Azariah, did not intend to preach, but he simply described his own home reality. But home for him was not what modernity thought compared to what some of his contemporaries of his age may think, but it is instead a place full of wonder and adventure, of a plurality that was contemplated and cherished. Because true normality is never a modern belief, but is instead Love Itself.
"And that's the world I come from..." Azariah finished last, as he looked at all of the silent devils. "...If you have any questions, I can try to answer, but I wouldn't consider myself a perfect expert on the history of my world. Numerous scholars and scientists in my world can answer that better than I."
...Such a humble statement. But that couldn't mitigate what the devils themselves had heard with their own ears. Azariah's Christianity was too alien, too different from every thought pattern and understanding. He claims that true montheism was never restrictive, only loving, too loving, and a diversified infinitude of possibilities. There is, in fact, no such thing as impossible. The only impossible thing is GOD that is not Love. For without Love, that cannot be GOD, but something lower than the One who descended even to the lowest unimaginable depths.
Nobody could talk. Only the echoing of Asia's cries, softer and too heartbroken, as she learned more context from her vision of the Harrowing. She covered her face while clutching that pocket Bible that Azariah gave her.
Rias and Sona glanced at each other. Each one of them, rattled and disturbed by what they had just heard. What can they even say? Azariah's GOD... cannot be categorized. It's impossible. It's too nonsensical to be categorized. What can they even do with this information?
Rias glanced at Azariah, who remained quiet and respectful in posture. No arrogance, no will to dominate the room, no charisma, yet his mere respectful silence gutted everyone.
She first started to open her mouth, but closed. Then again. Then closed. It took a while before she finally opened her mouth. "...You said...Lucifer is not an evil name originally, yes?"
"Yes," Azariah nodded.
"...Then what do you actually think of the word, Devil?" Rias asked, testing a little. Because devils meant opposition to God. That was the whole point of that term.
"...Do you fear that GOD does not love you simply because of the name of your species, my lady?" Azariah asked gently yet humbly, remembering he was still facing an Authority in this world.
Rias tried to open her mouth, but gripped her hands to her waist.
Azariah gently answered, his voice clear and no hesitation. "No word. No language. No term... was meant to originally oppose the Most High. All words were made of Love and for Love. You, devils as a species, are not meant to be hated. You are His children too. This, I firmly believe, is based on this reasoning. You still live, you still have free will, you can still choose. That is Love, in permissive action. Love that does not cry out, but remains silent for your sake."
Rias twitched. Arms crossed. And yet, her eyes were lowered, as her mind couldn't comprehend it. She couldn't comprehend Azariah's GOD. It was... too intimately raw. It made her entire devilish instincts twitch like it seemingly found its real purpose.
"...But I'm a fallen angel," Akeno muttered softly, making Rias turn towards her, as she saw her best friend look at Azariah with a conflicted look and ask. "And now, I'm a devil. How can any GOD love a being too impure? How can you say your GOD loves even someone like us devils?"
"Because GOD descended... to all hells, and that included impurities which were completely powerless before Him and could not stop His Descent," Azariah explained calmly, yet patiently. "GOD kept descending, forever, and not even death, hell, and gods could stop Him from taking His children home."
Akeno tried to open her mouth, before closing it and looking to the side, arms crossed while looking hesitant.
Sona Sitri tried to initiate a cough to divert the topic, but she couldn't. She couldn't dare. She couldn't dare interrupt. What should have been a topic that dealt with possible enemy incursion from rogue fallen and rogue excommunicated exorcists... instead became a special revelation where everything they thought about Christianity was wrong from the start.
It was... too hard. Too... uncomforming. And even more so, Azariah wasn't pushing it; he was maintaining a respectful distance. He doesn't set out to convince. He simply gives testimony.
And the rest of the Student Council and the Occult Research Club looked at each other.
Some like the familiar Ruruko Nimura were already reduced to tears, covering her mouth, as she could not dare to think of the kind of GOD that Azariah was sharing about.
Some like Yuuto Kiba were too conflicted and couldn't argue. Kiba hated anything to do with the Heaven Faction, which also included God, because it was associated with the trauma of that blasted project where many of his friends had died. And yet... Azariah's GOD was too alien. Too different. It didn't compute.
Azariah's Christianity was... basically all about a Story, of a GOD that descended and ascended forever, embracing all things. It was nothing like his world's Roman Catholic Church's teachings. He couldn't... He couldn't mock this. How can you mock something that doesn't make sense? It's too nonsensical.
"...Then what about my friends?" Kiba asked, his teeth gritting, his hands clenching, as he looked at Azariah. "You say this GOD of yours descended to all, but I never experienced anything like that. I never..." Kiba tried to steel his heart in anger, but it broke completely. Rias and the others, like Akeno and Koneko, looked at Kiba with concern. They knew what Kiba was referring to.
"...Where was He...Where was He when I lost my friends to that damn holy sword project?" Kiba's eyes had tears in them.
Azariah sported a solemn, grim expression. He knew what Kiba was talking about. In High School DxD lore, before meeting Rias, Yuuto Kiba was one of the many candidates who had been selected for a Holy Sword Project whose main purpose was to create swordsmen who could wield the Holy Sword of Excalibur. But unfortunately, the man behind that project, Valper Galilei, ended up ordering the execution of most of the candidates. Only Kiba was one of the few survivors before Rias found him.
Azariah... chose not to answer. He remained silent.
"What?! No answer?!" Kiba asked, a little antagonistic, yet steady, gripping his hands in fists tightening. "You're not gonna give me that blasted spiel, always forgive your enemies?! None of that shoved down on my damn throat?!" His voice was shouting a little, while the rest of the devils looked concerned and worried that this unintentional situation might escalate.
Azariah however looked calm, yet sadder. Not pity. But something much more alien. Mercy. Compassion. Hope. "...I can't disrespect your pain, or the pain you suffered at the hands of men with crueler ambition. I cannot justify your experience and insult yours for any reason. I can only offer, as ignorant as I am, to bear your Cross, because that is what Love did, and He still does. He bore the Cross because the Cross is the answer, by not answering with words, but by offering a hand."
Kiba tried to open his hand, but failed the first time. He gritted his teeth, before trying a second time. "What do you know, huh? How can you possibly understand the pain I go through?"
Azariah... did something far too radically alien. He instead said. "Just because I don't understand your personal pain, doesn't mean I cannot bear it with you, if you only let me. That is a much heavier Cross, to bear the pains of others that you cannot understand, and at times, you may not be able to. It's not about understanding pain, but about bearing it and not coercing others at the same time. That is the True Cross of Judeo-Christianity. It's not a weapon. It's not a holy sword. It's a statement that not even the boundaries of all definitions have the last and final word, except for the Cross. I am neither asking for belief nor for understanding, but I only offer my testimony because I must speak the truth. What you do with it... is up to you."
Everyone remained silent.
Kiba twitched a little as he tried to argue, but... he couldn't. Because not once did Azariah defend himself. He never did. He only offered. He only explained. He gave. But he never expected anything back.
Asia Argento trembled over her lips, her mouth covered with her hand, as her tears continued to fall. She couldn't remain silent. Here was another soul that had been used by a False Church. She had to say something.
"...I was excommunicated from the church by helping to heal a devil," Asia stood up from her sofa. It wasn't Azariah who responded. It was Asia. And it made everyone of the devils look at her, widening eyes. "I healed... a devil, through my Sacred Gear called Twilight Healing. That's why I was excommunicated. I may not have experienced losing people the same way as you did, but I did lose everything. Everyone looked at me like I was a monster and a heretic, and because of trying to heal a devil, I was exiled... and came here, for a fresh new start. I was sent here by a cardinal, because despite being excommunicated, I could still somehow serve the church in some way. But...".
Asia's eyes were in tears, holding the pocket Bible. "...I was wrong. I never really knew GOD. I prayed... and prayed... and prayed... but I never knew Him. I never knew the real LORD."
When she invoked GOD, no one among the devils could feel any hurt. Again, it was far too silent. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was happening. It was far more uncomfortable than feeling pain.
"I never knew... He loved all of us, angels, fallen, devils, gods and buddhas, all of us. He did not leave all of us. He knew us. But we never knew Him. Our world denied Him. Our Christianity was nothing but a lie. It was never just trying to be pure or be virtuous, it's about being a Saint... in a world that's rejected Love completely. That's why..."
Asia's tears were flowing down, quivering. "I... I offer to bear that pain of yours too. I don't know what else I can offer, but I will offer everything I can... if you let me."
And at that moment, Kiba was disarmed. Not by Azariah, who remained respectfully silent and bowed his head. But by Asia, whose tears were flowing down like sparkling rivers, and she still recalled that same angelic song which was sung by the real angels when she saw the Harrowing. Even after that vision ended, she can still recall that gentler, yet terrifyingly intimate song, sung in the language of the downtrodden.
Sa daigdig ang buhay ay ganyan
(That is how life is in this world)
Mayroong ligaya at lumbay
(There is joy and sadness both)
Maghintay at may nakalaang bukas
(Wait, for a tomorrow has been prepared)
...Kiba stepped back.
May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)
Kiba's last will to argue vanished as his eyes gave way to tears, and cried out in a loud voice. Rias stood up immediately, as she kneeled and comforted her Knight, while sporting a look of concern on her face. Akeno and Koneko followed, as they gently held their friend, sporting their own expressions of concern.
Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)
Asia closed her eyes, clenching the pocket Bible towards her heart, and let loose her tears more softly. Sona and the others remained silent, grim, and looking at Kiba with a silent sympathy.
As for Azariah, he remained in the background, content to simply remain there, as he reflected quietly. No matter how he got here, something within him whispered an insight. He was never here to fix things or interfere with the lives of others, as if reality enters fiction to dictate reality. No... He was here to offer a Carpenter's Hammer to break down the dividing walls of all definitions. To show the True Cross of Christ and bring all of the false crosses down.
...Everything turned sober and quiet.
Kiba was quietly led away by Saji per Sona's orders. Koneko had asked Rias if she could accompany Kiba, and the latter nodded and told her to go. Akeno was staying behind, casting a sympathetic glance directed at Kiba, before she and Rias were looking at Azariah, on the sofa, who was writing down everything he knew about the situation, from a couple of papers that he humbly requested. Asia was there, clutching the pocket Bible in one hand, while looking intently at the papers as she sat next to him. Sona and the others were looking intently as well, eyes narrowed in observation.
"I should warn you all, my knowledge of your world cannot be relied on as if it were some perfect gospel truth. You're going to have to perform discernment tests, just to ascertain if the facts of this information that I share with you happen to be correct, because for all I know, a lot of the facts may not specifically align with your historical timeline, at least the ones you're familiar with. I'd recommend probably telling this to the Four Satans, which of course includes Lord Sirzechs and Lady Serafall," says Azariah before writing what he knew about High School DxD's plot from the papers, what is essentially the most relevant in this case.
He said this because Azariah himself knew that relying on canon alone would be foolhardy to the extreme. First and foremost, the fact that he's here is already an indication that trying to follow canon is not an option. Another point of argument is Asia Argento. Ever since she met him, she had gone completely off course from what canon had dictated about her. She met Azariah, not Issei, and because of that, other factors followed, some of which went beyond Azariah's own control.
He has the common sense to at least be aware that all actions have consequences. Even simple things like walking into a world that you were never supposed to be in have legitimate consequences.
"...Hmm, and you say that we should capture this Raynare and the other three rogue fallen angels, Dohnaseek, Kalawarner, and Milttelt; firstly, because they hold valuable information and are more useful alive than dead," Sona spoke grimly while reflective in thought.
"That's part of it, Lady Sitri," Azariah spoke humbly. "Personally, I just want to minimize casualties as much as possible and the perpetrators be given some form of fair trial, or what amounts to an equivalent of a fair trial in your world's supernatural systems. I'd also personally prefer that all of the rogues are to be captured, not just the fallen, but even the excommunicated exorcists, because each of them could hold vital information that even the leaders of this whole operation, the rogue fallen in this case, may not be able to provide in full missed. Considering Asia's information about her being sent to the abandoned church by someone named Cardinal Filippo Galilei, we would need to get information to root out the Church's corruption, and thus, it could give the Heaven Faction incentive to mayhaps lift the ban on certain things in relation to the Devil Faction."
Sona narrowed her eyes at him. He was thinking too far ahead of time. For someone who doesn't claim to be an expert in politics, he sure is aware of the general circumstances of the Three Factions. And as for Cardinal Filippo Galilei, Sona's heard of him. Who amongst the devils worth their salt in politics hasn't heard of that cardinal. He was essentially the head of the Vatican's Congregation for Exorcism Affairs (VCEA), which of course is a Congregation that is not known at all to the general public.
He was one of those more traditional minded people within the Church, yet open to new things, such as the Church's openess to the modern world. Whether or not the man was truthfully corrupt remains to be seen, but if he is corrupt, then Sona would grimly suspect that the situation is truly dire, for Cardinal Filippo Galilei is the type of person who would have multiple connections around the world by virtue of his status as the head of the Vatican's secret exorcism agency, ones who still leave a bloody yet hidden trail of footprints in history, mostly indepedent even from the Heaven Faction proper, officially on paper.
"...Kokabiel," Rias muttered grimly, lifting one of the papers as she read the name of the fallen. "One of the Leaders of the Grigori. From what you wrote here, he has plans that relate to how he'd try to reignite the Great War completely."
"Giving my imperfect opinion on the matter, I'd highly advise that you do not start trying to accuse Kokabiel of treason, my lady. Like I said, you shouldn't treat my words about your world as if they were perfect gospel truth. There are some things that I may have either missed or may have gotten wrong completely. A wrong choice can mean an outcome where multiple individuals and families will die, and I'd rather not let things escalate to that point." Azariah spoke humbly while continuing to write.
Rias then glanced at another paper, and... she narrowed her eyes. She would see info about her own engagement to Riser Phenex and detail the entire general situation between the two houses of Gremory and Phenex. This man knew them a little too well.
But none of that was greater than what Azariah had stated earlier.
...A GOD who is Love, the real Judeo-Christian GOD. That was something that lay outside hers and Sona's calculations completely. She and Sona were still reeling from the special revelation that Azariah had proclaimed. None of what Azariah says matches any god or buddha or dragon they ever knew. And in some ways, it terrified them.
They had asked Azariah if it was that GOD who sent Him here to their world. Azariah said in response. "I do not know. But I do know this. Even what happened to me is not outside His Divine Providence. That's far more important than how I actually got here. All things have a reason. Even fate and destiny bow before Love."
Rias and Sona quietly sighed. They had no idea how to get used to this, because Azariah's GOD was completely outside everything. They would have to start from the ground up, reevaluate, reassess, reconsider. That may even mean getting rid of every prejudice that they have about Christianity, which was never Christianity as far as Azariah was concerned.
"...Azariah," Sona started to ask, while Azariah was writing down the notes. "Can I ask something? How does your GOD operate in your world specifically?"
Azariah became thoughtful while continuing to write. "Hmm... that really depends on what you mean, my lady, and that's not even getting into the fact of what you actually mean by the term, "world", because if you mean just the physical universe... then, respectfully, that's thinking a little too small."
"What do you mean?" Sona asked, inquiringly.
"Back in my world, various learned men from the patristics, scholastics, and medieval eras had developed the thought of the possibility of other worlds. Hence, the Universe, in the proper sense of the word, meant more than just the physical and empirically identifiable category, but it also expresses a created order of spirituals and materials, nesting within a world. A Multiverses of Multiverses, to put it simply in the most basic understanding of the word."
Rias and Sona blinked a little. Did they hear that right? Already back then, Azariah's Earth had thinkers like that?
"That... is far too different from how our own medieval times had ever had," Sona muttered softly. "I've always remembered that era for the burning of witches associated with devils and the Church's monopoly on controlling the magic systems of the world."
"Hmm... while my planet's Medieval Ages weren't perfect - and all eras do have their own personal faults that should not be repeated - it was a lot more developed than some people in my own modern era ever realized. In fact, long before the printing press even came to be, it was the Catholic Church who managed to preserve culture and science, with countless hardworking monks who translated the various works of philosophers and scientists that modernity still read today. Of course, a lot of people still think the Catholic Church is some kind of Whore of Babylon because we just so happen to not go with the flow with what Martin Luther, John Calvin, and others think the Church should be. The Catholic Church in my world is countercultural yet accepting of culture by nature," Azariah spoke softly while writing.
Rias shook her head with a sigh. "So, I have to ask. Has the Church of your world... your planet, I mean, ever had documented encounters with Non-Christian entities?"
"...Plenty actually," Azariah spoke thoughtfully. "Though the modern-day skeptics usually consider that as unverifiable legends, even though the Church had documented records of such cases. The more recent ones happened during the 20th Century of my Earth. My Earth's World War II was... probably a bit different from yours." He spoke grimly.
"...Different how?" Sona asked, inquiringly.
Azariah became a bit too silent as he continued writing. He continued, though carefully. "Can I ask something before I answer? What was the point of view of the supernatural factions of this world around the time of World War II?"
"Well, it was mainly an opportunistic grab for several factions; both the Allied Forces and the Axis Powers had a varying number of secret magician agents, which was quite a boon for both. Hitler's quest for multiple Sacred Gears became a popular project, and eventually an exchange trade in the politico-natural sphere. Most of the human world had no idea that the supernatural factions had been using both sides of the war for their own volitions," Sona explained softly.
"Ah, I see..." Azariah spoke softly while continuing to write. "And... how did World War II end?"
"1945. Even the humans of this world knew of it as the ending of World War II when Hitler committed suicide. Though that was mainly a cover-up," Sona spoke softly, arms crossed. "My sister told me that someone silenced Hitler before he could testify about something. Whatever the case, whoever did it had the power to use light magic. There are plenty of beings and factions who could qualify in using Light Magic, hence it's quite diffuclt to actually ascertain who did it, the perpretators knew exactly what they were doing, and they probably knew that it didn't matter for most of the humans on how Hitler died, but that he be taken out of the picture."
Azariah listened carefully. Of course plenty of people would celebrate the death of Hitler and give no care as to how he even died. There is this common instinct of people celebrating the deaths of people that were considered monsters in every sense of the word. And yet, here's something most people forgot. Christ Himself came especially for the monsters. Those who truly followed Judeo-Christianity would never celebrate the deaths of anyone. Ever. He could only recall the timely example of his Earth's Saint Therese of Liseux, who had prayed for an actual criminal with a considerable count of murder - a.k.a. someone who, in America's standards, would laud for death, and the LORD even then still answered her prayer. Thus, he criminal who was an iredeemable monster to the eyes of the world, repented completely by kissing the Crucifix.
...Not even the world and its beliefs had a final say regarding souls. Nobody and nothing had a final say. Only the Cross. Only Mercy.
"...So, what about yours? What kind of World War II had occured on your Earth?" Sona asked, while everyone else in the room listened in carefully.
Azariah's expression was grim, with a quiet sigh. "...To the people of my Earth in the 21st Century, on the surface, it looks like a human conflict. One of those cases where human cruelty and vegeance is clearly shown. However... that's the surface level behind the reality. My World War II was far darker. There were a lot of things that the black and white official documentaries never truly recorded. Such as... Hell being unleashed."
...The entire room dropped in temperature. Everyone paid close attention.
"...Hell being unleashed?" Asia said carefully, having finally spoken, holding Azariah's pocket Bible with her hands.
"...As I said before, the True Kingdom of Hell reached even to the physical, an Empire of Sin and Death. So... if you take that to its logical conclusion, you'd get... something like soldiers from the Axis Powers getting possessed completely, because they were the most vulnerable to be so, due to how their actions of conquest reverberate even into the spiritual. They opened the door, with their bloody massacres, and Hell answered." Azariah spoke grimly.
...He could still recall the old classified documentaries. It was something that the Doctor had shown him and Richard back then. Nobody back then ever wanted any of that to get out into the general public. The world, planet Earth as it was, wasn't truthfully ready for that kind of horror. Of how Axis soldiers became the proxy, where they, with their own actions, got possessed by something that served the First and Last Dark Lord.
They weren't angels and demons. They were something of a completely different category. Enslaved Damned. With darker pitch black eyes reflecting the Outer Darkness. But they were not just confined to possessing Axis Powers soldiers. They even brought resupplied reinforcements with other Axis Powers soldiers from different Earths, most unknown, carrying those same black eerie eyes. It was in fact the first brush contact that the Allies, and by extension, the modern era, had with parallel universes in the science fiction sense of the word, which was only part of the larger hierarchical chain of cosmoses within Azariah's universe.
Genesis 6:5 already gave a hint to what these Enslaved Damned were. They weren't like the genuine Damned from the Hell of the Damned. They were something that even J.R.R. Tolkien hinted at when writing about the Orcs. What happens... if the Devil can in fact sub-create, once mankind had allowed themselves to fall? Because when the Devil had once claimed to Christ that all of the kingdoms of the world are his to give, that may in fact be the only possible time when he wasn't lying, because when Scripture gives the Devil such grand titles like prince of the world, god of the world, prince of the power of the air, and more... it spoke of that Monster's power over all spiritual orders and all material orders. The Devil cannot create. He, like all creatures, can only sub-create, but in the highest degree unimaginable.
"...There were these beings in my Earth who keep possessing these poor soldiers. Allied soldiers, starting with the Americans, coined the term BEDs to describe these things," Azariah spoke grimly.
"BEDs?" Rias asked with both intrigue and caution.
"Black-Eyed Daimoniacs," Azariah spoke grimly. "They weren't angels or humans. They were something else. Entire races of enslaved damned, from origins too terrible to imagine. When the BEDs show up... there weren't any survivors. Things got so bad that... well, the Allies literally begged Pope Pius XII for help. The Pope of course naturally responded. He couldn't of course make known the existence of the BEDs directly, but he did discreetly ordered the entire Catholic world's bishops to assist the Allies, either through the Sacraments, through its' exorcist priests delegated by the bishops, or through the Knights of the Holy Orders that had been around since the time of the Crusades."
"...Knights of the Holy Orders?" Sona asked, while taking note of Azariah's explanation.
"The Knights Templar, the Knights Hospitaller, the Order of the Holy Sepulchre, the Order of Saint James, the Order of Calatrava, and the Teutonic Knights, among other religious knights. The Knights of the Holy Orders aren't really a secret, and some people thought they were simply leftovers of the time of the so-called violent Crusades. But what people didn't know was that... the Crusaders were not just originally created to retake Jerusalem and defend the Christians from Muslim warlords, they were there... because something darker had once tried to invade Earth centuries ago. The Church had always been the first and last line of defense against threats that threatened GOD's Order of Love, Mercy, and Compassion. It's how things like the just war theory were really fleshed out. You fight, not your fellow man, but against the real Enemy that uses all things against man," Azariah spoke grimly while he wrote everything down.
Everyone was quietly silent while they tried to process what Azariah said. Rias and Sona looked at each other grimly, before they looked back at Azariah.
"...How likely should we be worried about these BEDs?" Sona asked carefully.
"...Probably likely," Azariah spoke grimly while drawing out his Saint Benedict Rosary from his pocket, which made all of the devils stare at it with... actually, they never felt any pain. Again. But they couldn't help but stare at that simple black rosary that held Saint Benedict Medals on them. They felt nothing. Nothing was happening. But that in fact is what made them twitchy on the inside. A major difference between the rosaries of their world, and Azariah's rosary which belonged to the hidden yet true hierarchy.
"When I found out about the BEDs myself, the first thing I'd always do is keep carrying sacramentals within my person. It's one of the only things in my Earth that the BEDs answer too, not because they are magic because they aren't, but rather, they connect back with the Seven Sacraments of the Church, and those Seven Sacraments connect back to Christ's authority. It's not the shape of the object, it's the meaning behind the object. The object and the faith are both important. Faith and works. Not faith alone." He said, before tucking it back respectfully, and kept writing the notes on paper.
Nobody liked what they were hearing. Azariah was one thing. But now they have to worry about darker forces that their world had never encountered before. Or maybe they had already. They just never noticed them until Azariah broke down the veil.
And then...
"Hmm?"
The first thing Azariah noted was his body slowly flickering. Everyone noticed, much to their growing alarm.
"What's happening?!" Akeno muttered in concern, as she also noticed Asia also flickering, much to the latter's concern as she noticed her own body slowly disappearing somewhere.
Azariah muttered grimly as he places the pen on the table. "I'm not entirely sure..." His quick-thinking allowed him at least to discern one thing. "...But I have a feeling this has something to do with how I ended up here." He looked at Rias and Sona. "...Remember what I said," He gently cautioned, before he and Asia disappear. "Discern, don't jump to conclusions, and... pray to the Most High." He muttered.
...And afterward, they both vanished, leaving a stunned group of devils in the room.
Rias and Sona slowly glanced at each other. They had no idea why... but they have a very good feeling that they would see them again. But the real question is... where did Azariah and Asia go?
...The first thing that Azariah and Asia both noticed was that their rears hit the ground floor.
Azariah immediately tried to stand up, and gently lifted Asia up. "Are you alright?"
Asia slowly nodded, with a hum, as she glances at what appeared to be an alleyway of a city of sorts. "...Where are we?" She couldn't help but ask, as she clutched Azariah's pocket bible.
Azariah muttered softly as he glanced around. "I'm not quite sure yet..." before he noticed the sudden appearance of a running, gasping blonde-haired foreign young woman with a worn-out black barret hat and red skirt who turned and quietly held her one hand to the side of a wall nearby, being a little tired.
...She looked terrible. Like she'd been roughed up in some kind of interrogation.
Asia muttered. "Oh my... are you alright?" She tried to draw closer, but the woman was extremely cautious.
"Who are you?!" She exclaims, making Asia step back a little with blinking eyes. "Are you with SCHOOL?! To hell with you all, I'm not going back to that place?!"
SCHOOL? Azariah noticed the term. And that familiar voice. Something clicked. He looked at the woman again and drew out a memory from his own mind.
...Oh. Oh...
He knows who this woman is.
Frenda Seivelun.
Which means...
...This is Academy City.
This is A Certain Magical Index.
First and foremost, Azariah revealed that the name "Azariah" isn't exactly his real name, but it's his chosen name regardless, for the sake of protecting the people around him in case people were to use his identity for nefarious ends. He explained to her the following circumstances of his arrival at Kuoh Town.
"First and foremost, I came from an entirely different Earth, not only with a history radically different from your own, but with a metaphysical and spiritual paradigm that you may not be aware of..."
That was the first thing he said, before explaining about the world he comes from. He comes from an Earth that has a radically different history from the Earth that the devils were familiar with. He lived somewhere in what was called Keikan Ward, which was a location within Tokyo. Rias frowned because she had never heard of such a place, and she was a certified self-proclaimed Japanophile expert who would know absolutely everything about Japanese culture; it was practically a passionate hobby of hers.
Azariah explained that he is a simple nineteen-year-old university student, who is studying for a master's degree in theology, somewhere in an institution called Kakure University, run by the Dominican Order founded by someone called Saint Dominic de Guzman. Dominicans? Rias had never heard of Dominicans before, and she is well-versed in all religious orders within the Roman Catholic Church. But again, this young man, nineteen years of age, was claiming something outlandish. He came from an entirely different history, from an entirely different Earth, where there was no Great War, or Devil Civil War, or any other conflict that the devils could be familiar with.
...But that didn't mean his Earth was normal.
"My Earth, as insignificant as it is, is far too blessed with a numerous plurality of miracles, which nowadays, many people within my Earth simply think of unfortunately as fantasy without actually verifying for themselves just where these miraculous accounts even come from, especially when non-Christians of every walk of life have verified them with their own given testimonies," says Azariah, as he described what his Earth is truthfully like.
In his Earth, there was the Supernatural, but it was nothing that could be reduced to what Rias thought of as Supernatural. For this Earth had histories, so-called legends. His Earth was touched by a GOD who came down completely and became truly Man. A Man-GOD. A GOD who never stopped descending.
"Before man thought of the term "Isekai" and gave it a label to mean people sent to another world, there was in fact the First Isekai, and it was GOD Himself who came down and lived within the Material Order that He created," says Azariah, when describing such a feat.
He was talking about Jesus Christ. But it was not the Christ that Rias was familiar with. Azariah didn't describe Christ as some would-be divine mortal, or simply a moral teacher who distinguishes between virtue and vice. No, what Azariah was explaining was too nonsensical and completely outside any worldview.
A GOD who did not impose His Will, but drew all things to Himself—descending through the Cross, the final and complete gravity of Love.
A GOD who, when He died, went down to all abodes of the dead, all Hells that can be defined, reachable and unreachable, even beyond any definition.
A GOD who even came down to a place called the Hell of the Damned, where He acted as the Just Judge of Living Mercy.
Rias could hear Akeno Himejima's breath catch with a hitch. Even her thunder-born pride couldn't help her against the weight of the word "Hell.". She could even see Koneko Toujou twitching, eyes widened as she could not believe what she was hearing.
A GOD who saved all, universal salvation offered to all, who descended without end for all, until finally touching down even into the very state where reside beings incomprehensible who completely, utterly, and firmly rejected Him with their own free will and choice, freely inverted against His Love, and yet still, He conquered them with Just Love.
A GOD who not only rose from the dead and ascended, but a GOD who rose and ascended, bringing with Him all of the captives of all Hells, and took them home.
And that GOD even now had never stopped descending. For He left Seven Sacraments that enact that Descent in real time, forever, guarded by a Church founded on an Office established by Him, connecting all histories into Anno Domini, an unbroken line of Saint Peter the Apostle down to the present Pope of Azariah's time, Pope Apollos, who chose the name Apollos to urge theolgoians of the Church to study more thoroughly about the possibilities of non-human rational life, clearly distinguishable from Homo Sapiens and from the Nine Choirs.
The GOD who kept Descending, while Ascending beyond even All Heavens.
The GOD of Miracles, Descending and Ascending through, with, and in His Grace, Love, and Mercy, of which was a hierarchical plentitude of plurality without end.
Asia was quietly crying from her seat, covering her eyes with her face, where she listened, each word from Azariah confirmed more and more of what she in fact saw within the grand vision of the Harrowing of Hell. Christ was not merely a teacher of virtue. Christ was no mere idealist. Christ was the Living GOD of the Resurrection, YHWH Elohim Rahum, walking with His people, forever.
Akeno looked uneasy. Too uneasy. She couldn't utter a mere word. Her arms were crossed. Her hands clenched her arms. Her mind was swirling in a pause, as her ears heard Azariah of his testimony.
"What I understood as Fallen Angels and as Devils is not the same as what you use the term. I do not deny that of course, in the case of Himejima-san, she is a Fallen Angel by origin, and in your case and Lady Sitri's case, you are Devils. But the terms I used refer to something radically different. I refer of course to the same beings who had predated all creatures, before the material and spiritual universes, before the first dawn. These beings, who are called Fallen Angels and Devils, have no derivative, no version, no other, for each individual is its own species, created as Good and with Love. They do not have wings. They do not have haloes. They do not have horns. They do not think like us. One instant for us is simply lifetimes for them." Azariah explained.
Azariah explained about what he called True Angels. Not winged creatures that the devils of this world were familiar with. They were pure intellectual spirits who were the brightest of the morning stars. And above even them all... There was Lucifer.
...But it was not the kind of tale that anybody within this room ever heard of before. It was not the Lucifer of their world who bred Devilkind. No, he was speaking of another Lucifer. The Lucifer before all Lucifers.
"Lucifer... Helel ben Shachar... the most beloved Creature. The first one. The Seraph-Archangel, who was the highest above all of the Nine Choirs. The being who had once loved GOD. How long that was, of Lucifer loving GOD, is something we cannot measure, for numbers mean nothing to the concept of aeviternity. But now... no more."
Everyone couldn't help but flinch because, for whatever reason, they felt the gravity behind that statement.
"Lucifer is not an evil name. It was an office. An office that was sacred, to express the grand mission, that all are called to reflect Christ, the True Lucifer, the True Morning Star, whose rays shone with Love and Mercy. The greatest gift that GOD could ever give Lucifer Helel ben Shachar was for him to reflect Him completely and be the First Light to All Nations, which includes not just Earth, but to all spiritual and material orders. However... he saw the gift as not a gift, but as an insult. Lucifer Helel ben Shachar saw Love Itself, and saw that it is Love Itself that was wrong. It was never about humans alone. It was about Descent. Lowliness. Depths. That was the main issue for him. Lucifer Helel ben Shachar wanted to be GOD, but not as Love and Mercy, but as Wrath and Power.
And thus, a War in Heaven ignited, but it was not fought with swords or powers, but intellect and will as laws, within the Abode of the True Angels, the First Heavens. It was one instant for all, but it must have been something of a lifetime for the angels themselves, and thus, Lucifer Helel ben Shachar became Ha-Satanas, and no longer had any place for him in the First Heavens, and fell by his own choice, and crafted from within himself what would eventually be called Hell. For Lucifer Helel ben Shachar is not merely the ruler of Hell, but he is Hell, and Hell is the complete self-imposed, freely willed exile, away from all goodness, forever.
If Genesis 1:1 spoke of GOD lovingly creating all Heavens and all Earths, all orders of spiritual and material, then Genesis 1:2 spoke of the aftermath of the Tragedy of GOD's broken Heart, where, because of free will, Love can be rejected by any creature. Lucifer Helel ben Shachar was the first, and he set the pattern that all who reject Love now align with Lucifer's will, becoming his slaves, and through that, he carved His own Kingdom of Hell from there.
That is the real meaning of Genesis 1:2. Ha-Satanas. Then the fallen angels who joined him. Then the other middle natures who were neither angel nor men, but rebels. All of them, termed with the words Shedim and Daimones. That is the True Kingdom of Hell, an Empire of Sin and Death that stretched even to the physical matter," Azariah spoke with a solemn and grim tone.
Everyone became totally silent. Kiba was twitching, his hands twitched, as he could barely even mutter a word. He was once of the Roman Catholic Church before Rias eventually rescued him from the twisted experiments of one of its bishops. He's heard about the story of the Fall, but not like this. Not at this scale and not at this magnitude.
Tsubaki Shinra felt her tongue drying. Before she was Sona's right-hand woman, she was once of the Shinra Clan, who were heavily versed in Shinto lore. What she thought about Christianity was that it never accommodated any god except for one. That was monotheism for the Shinto mind's understanding. Too restrictive. Too limited. Whereas for the Shinto, it was far too diversified.
...But now, Azariah was saying no to all of those preconceptions, that real Christianity does acknowledge other beings instead of dismissing them completely, what people called kami, and yet, the major difference is that it takes a clear divide between the One Triune Judeo-Christian GOD, and all of the gods below Him. True Monotheism was, in fact, acknowledgment of GOD as Sovereign Creator of All, which presupposes the infinitude of possibilities that, even in speculative, GOD created others besides man and angel.
Nobody could say a word as the minutes ticked. It was... too grand. Too... nonsensical. Too... mind-breaking.
One common thought that passed into their minds and hearts was this.
...What kind of GOD was Azariah worshipping and proclaiming?
The young man, Azariah, did not intend to preach, but he simply described his own home reality. But home for him was not what modernity thought compared to what some of his contemporaries of his age may think, but it is instead a place full of wonder and adventure, of a plurality that was contemplated and cherished. Because true normality is never a modern belief, but is instead Love Itself.
"And that's the world I come from..." Azariah finished last, as he looked at all of the silent devils. "...If you have any questions, I can try to answer, but I wouldn't consider myself a perfect expert on the history of my world. Numerous scholars and scientists in my world can answer that better than I."
...Such a humble statement. But that couldn't mitigate what the devils themselves had heard with their own ears. Azariah's Christianity was too alien, too different from every thought pattern and understanding. He claims that true montheism was never restrictive, only loving, too loving, and a diversified infinitude of possibilities. There is, in fact, no such thing as impossible. The only impossible thing is GOD that is not Love. For without Love, that cannot be GOD, but something lower than the One who descended even to the lowest unimaginable depths.
Nobody could talk. Only the echoing of Asia's cries, softer and too heartbroken, as she learned more context from her vision of the Harrowing. She covered her face while clutching that pocket Bible that Azariah gave her.
Rias and Sona glanced at each other. Each one of them, rattled and disturbed by what they had just heard. What can they even say? Azariah's GOD... cannot be categorized. It's impossible. It's too nonsensical to be categorized. What can they even do with this information?
Rias glanced at Azariah, who remained quiet and respectful in posture. No arrogance, no will to dominate the room, no charisma, yet his mere respectful silence gutted everyone.
She first started to open her mouth, but closed. Then again. Then closed. It took a while before she finally opened her mouth. "...You said...Lucifer is not an evil name originally, yes?"
"Yes," Azariah nodded.
"...Then what do you actually think of the word, Devil?" Rias asked, testing a little. Because devils meant opposition to God. That was the whole point of that term.
"...Do you fear that GOD does not love you simply because of the name of your species, my lady?" Azariah asked gently yet humbly, remembering he was still facing an Authority in this world.
Rias tried to open her mouth, but gripped her hands to her waist.
Azariah gently answered, his voice clear and no hesitation. "No word. No language. No term... was meant to originally oppose the Most High. All words were made of Love and for Love. You, devils as a species, are not meant to be hated. You are His children too. This, I firmly believe, is based on this reasoning. You still live, you still have free will, you can still choose. That is Love, in permissive action. Love that does not cry out, but remains silent for your sake."
Rias twitched. Arms crossed. And yet, her eyes were lowered, as her mind couldn't comprehend it. She couldn't comprehend Azariah's GOD. It was... too intimately raw. It made her entire devilish instincts twitch like it seemingly found its real purpose.
"...But I'm a fallen angel," Akeno muttered softly, making Rias turn towards her, as she saw her best friend look at Azariah with a conflicted look and ask. "And now, I'm a devil. How can any GOD love a being too impure? How can you say your GOD loves even someone like us devils?"
"Because GOD descended... to all hells, and that included impurities which were completely powerless before Him and could not stop His Descent," Azariah explained calmly, yet patiently. "GOD kept descending, forever, and not even death, hell, and gods could stop Him from taking His children home."
Akeno tried to open her mouth, before closing it and looking to the side, arms crossed while looking hesitant.
Sona Sitri tried to initiate a cough to divert the topic, but she couldn't. She couldn't dare. She couldn't dare interrupt. What should have been a topic that dealt with possible enemy incursion from rogue fallen and rogue excommunicated exorcists... instead became a special revelation where everything they thought about Christianity was wrong from the start.
It was... too hard. Too... uncomforming. And even more so, Azariah wasn't pushing it; he was maintaining a respectful distance. He doesn't set out to convince. He simply gives testimony.
And the rest of the Student Council and the Occult Research Club looked at each other.
Some like the familiar Ruruko Nimura were already reduced to tears, covering her mouth, as she could not dare to think of the kind of GOD that Azariah was sharing about.
Some like Yuuto Kiba were too conflicted and couldn't argue. Kiba hated anything to do with the Heaven Faction, which also included God, because it was associated with the trauma of that blasted project where many of his friends had died. And yet... Azariah's GOD was too alien. Too different. It didn't compute.
Azariah's Christianity was... basically all about a Story, of a GOD that descended and ascended forever, embracing all things. It was nothing like his world's Roman Catholic Church's teachings. He couldn't... He couldn't mock this. How can you mock something that doesn't make sense? It's too nonsensical.
"...Then what about my friends?" Kiba asked, his teeth gritting, his hands clenching, as he looked at Azariah. "You say this GOD of yours descended to all, but I never experienced anything like that. I never..." Kiba tried to steel his heart in anger, but it broke completely. Rias and the others, like Akeno and Koneko, looked at Kiba with concern. They knew what Kiba was referring to.
"...Where was He...Where was He when I lost my friends to that damn holy sword project?" Kiba's eyes had tears in them.
Azariah sported a solemn, grim expression. He knew what Kiba was talking about. In High School DxD lore, before meeting Rias, Yuuto Kiba was one of the many candidates who had been selected for a Holy Sword Project whose main purpose was to create swordsmen who could wield the Holy Sword of Excalibur. But unfortunately, the man behind that project, Valper Galilei, ended up ordering the execution of most of the candidates. Only Kiba was one of the few survivors before Rias found him.
Azariah... chose not to answer. He remained silent.
"What?! No answer?!" Kiba asked, a little antagonistic, yet steady, gripping his hands in fists tightening. "You're not gonna give me that blasted spiel, always forgive your enemies?! None of that shoved down on my damn throat?!" His voice was shouting a little, while the rest of the devils looked concerned and worried that this unintentional situation might escalate.
Azariah however looked calm, yet sadder. Not pity. But something much more alien. Mercy. Compassion. Hope. "...I can't disrespect your pain, or the pain you suffered at the hands of men with crueler ambition. I cannot justify your experience and insult yours for any reason. I can only offer, as ignorant as I am, to bear your Cross, because that is what Love did, and He still does. He bore the Cross because the Cross is the answer, by not answering with words, but by offering a hand."
Kiba tried to open his hand, but failed the first time. He gritted his teeth, before trying a second time. "What do you know, huh? How can you possibly understand the pain I go through?"
Azariah... did something far too radically alien. He instead said. "Just because I don't understand your personal pain, doesn't mean I cannot bear it with you, if you only let me. That is a much heavier Cross, to bear the pains of others that you cannot understand, and at times, you may not be able to. It's not about understanding pain, but about bearing it and not coercing others at the same time. That is the True Cross of Judeo-Christianity. It's not a weapon. It's not a holy sword. It's a statement that not even the boundaries of all definitions have the last and final word, except for the Cross. I am neither asking for belief nor for understanding, but I only offer my testimony because I must speak the truth. What you do with it... is up to you."
Everyone remained silent.
Kiba twitched a little as he tried to argue, but... he couldn't. Because not once did Azariah defend himself. He never did. He only offered. He only explained. He gave. But he never expected anything back.
Asia Argento trembled over her lips, her mouth covered with her hand, as her tears continued to fall. She couldn't remain silent. Here was another soul that had been used by a False Church. She had to say something.
"...I was excommunicated from the church by helping to heal a devil," Asia stood up from her sofa. It wasn't Azariah who responded. It was Asia. And it made everyone of the devils look at her, widening eyes. "I healed... a devil, through my Sacred Gear called Twilight Healing. That's why I was excommunicated. I may not have experienced losing people the same way as you did, but I did lose everything. Everyone looked at me like I was a monster and a heretic, and because of trying to heal a devil, I was exiled... and came here, for a fresh new start. I was sent here by a cardinal, because despite being excommunicated, I could still somehow serve the church in some way. But...".
Asia's eyes were in tears, holding the pocket Bible. "...I was wrong. I never really knew GOD. I prayed... and prayed... and prayed... but I never knew Him. I never knew the real LORD."
When she invoked GOD, no one among the devils could feel any hurt. Again, it was far too silent. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was happening. It was far more uncomfortable than feeling pain.
"I never knew... He loved all of us, angels, fallen, devils, gods and buddhas, all of us. He did not leave all of us. He knew us. But we never knew Him. Our world denied Him. Our Christianity was nothing but a lie. It was never just trying to be pure or be virtuous, it's about being a Saint... in a world that's rejected Love completely. That's why..."
Asia's tears were flowing down, quivering. "I... I offer to bear that pain of yours too. I don't know what else I can offer, but I will offer everything I can... if you let me."
And at that moment, Kiba was disarmed. Not by Azariah, who remained respectfully silent and bowed his head. But by Asia, whose tears were flowing down like sparkling rivers, and she still recalled that same angelic song which was sung by the real angels when she saw the Harrowing. Even after that vision ended, she can still recall that gentler, yet terrifyingly intimate song, sung in the language of the downtrodden.
Sa daigdig ang buhay ay ganyan
(That is how life is in this world)
Mayroong ligaya at lumbay
(There is joy and sadness both)
Maghintay at may nakalaang bukas
(Wait, for a tomorrow has been prepared)
...Kiba stepped back.
May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)
Kiba's last will to argue vanished as his eyes gave way to tears, and cried out in a loud voice. Rias stood up immediately, as she kneeled and comforted her Knight, while sporting a look of concern on her face. Akeno and Koneko followed, as they gently held their friend, sporting their own expressions of concern.
Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)
Asia closed her eyes, clenching the pocket Bible towards her heart, and let loose her tears more softly. Sona and the others remained silent, grim, and looking at Kiba with a silent sympathy.
As for Azariah, he remained in the background, content to simply remain there, as he reflected quietly. No matter how he got here, something within him whispered an insight. He was never here to fix things or interfere with the lives of others, as if reality enters fiction to dictate reality. No... He was here to offer a Carpenter's Hammer to break down the dividing walls of all definitions. To show the True Cross of Christ and bring all of the false crosses down.
...Everything turned sober and quiet.
Kiba was quietly led away by Saji per Sona's orders. Koneko had asked Rias if she could accompany Kiba, and the latter nodded and told her to go. Akeno was staying behind, casting a sympathetic glance directed at Kiba, before she and Rias were looking at Azariah, on the sofa, who was writing down everything he knew about the situation, from a couple of papers that he humbly requested. Asia was there, clutching the pocket Bible in one hand, while looking intently at the papers as she sat next to him. Sona and the others were looking intently as well, eyes narrowed in observation.
"I should warn you all, my knowledge of your world cannot be relied on as if it were some perfect gospel truth. You're going to have to perform discernment tests, just to ascertain if the facts of this information that I share with you happen to be correct, because for all I know, a lot of the facts may not specifically align with your historical timeline, at least the ones you're familiar with. I'd recommend probably telling this to the Four Satans, which of course includes Lord Sirzechs and Lady Serafall," says Azariah before writing what he knew about High School DxD's plot from the papers, what is essentially the most relevant in this case.
He said this because Azariah himself knew that relying on canon alone would be foolhardy to the extreme. First and foremost, the fact that he's here is already an indication that trying to follow canon is not an option. Another point of argument is Asia Argento. Ever since she met him, she had gone completely off course from what canon had dictated about her. She met Azariah, not Issei, and because of that, other factors followed, some of which went beyond Azariah's own control.
He has the common sense to at least be aware that all actions have consequences. Even simple things like walking into a world that you were never supposed to be in have legitimate consequences.
"...Hmm, and you say that we should capture this Raynare and the other three rogue fallen angels, Dohnaseek, Kalawarner, and Milttelt; firstly, because they hold valuable information and are more useful alive than dead," Sona spoke grimly while reflective in thought.
"That's part of it, Lady Sitri," Azariah spoke humbly. "Personally, I just want to minimize casualties as much as possible and the perpetrators be given some form of fair trial, or what amounts to an equivalent of a fair trial in your world's supernatural systems. I'd also personally prefer that all of the rogues are to be captured, not just the fallen, but even the excommunicated exorcists, because each of them could hold vital information that even the leaders of this whole operation, the rogue fallen in this case, may not be able to provide in full missed. Considering Asia's information about her being sent to the abandoned church by someone named Cardinal Filippo Galilei, we would need to get information to root out the Church's corruption, and thus, it could give the Heaven Faction incentive to mayhaps lift the ban on certain things in relation to the Devil Faction."
Sona narrowed her eyes at him. He was thinking too far ahead of time. For someone who doesn't claim to be an expert in politics, he sure is aware of the general circumstances of the Three Factions. And as for Cardinal Filippo Galilei, Sona's heard of him. Who amongst the devils worth their salt in politics hasn't heard of that cardinal. He was essentially the head of the Vatican's Congregation for Exorcism Affairs (VCEA), which of course is a Congregation that is not known at all to the general public.
He was one of those more traditional minded people within the Church, yet open to new things, such as the Church's openess to the modern world. Whether or not the man was truthfully corrupt remains to be seen, but if he is corrupt, then Sona would grimly suspect that the situation is truly dire, for Cardinal Filippo Galilei is the type of person who would have multiple connections around the world by virtue of his status as the head of the Vatican's secret exorcism agency, ones who still leave a bloody yet hidden trail of footprints in history, mostly indepedent even from the Heaven Faction proper, officially on paper.
"...Kokabiel," Rias muttered grimly, lifting one of the papers as she read the name of the fallen. "One of the Leaders of the Grigori. From what you wrote here, he has plans that relate to how he'd try to reignite the Great War completely."
"Giving my imperfect opinion on the matter, I'd highly advise that you do not start trying to accuse Kokabiel of treason, my lady. Like I said, you shouldn't treat my words about your world as if they were perfect gospel truth. There are some things that I may have either missed or may have gotten wrong completely. A wrong choice can mean an outcome where multiple individuals and families will die, and I'd rather not let things escalate to that point." Azariah spoke humbly while continuing to write.
Rias then glanced at another paper, and... she narrowed her eyes. She would see info about her own engagement to Riser Phenex and detail the entire general situation between the two houses of Gremory and Phenex. This man knew them a little too well.
But none of that was greater than what Azariah had stated earlier.
...A GOD who is Love, the real Judeo-Christian GOD. That was something that lay outside hers and Sona's calculations completely. She and Sona were still reeling from the special revelation that Azariah had proclaimed. None of what Azariah says matches any god or buddha or dragon they ever knew. And in some ways, it terrified them.
They had asked Azariah if it was that GOD who sent Him here to their world. Azariah said in response. "I do not know. But I do know this. Even what happened to me is not outside His Divine Providence. That's far more important than how I actually got here. All things have a reason. Even fate and destiny bow before Love."
Rias and Sona quietly sighed. They had no idea how to get used to this, because Azariah's GOD was completely outside everything. They would have to start from the ground up, reevaluate, reassess, reconsider. That may even mean getting rid of every prejudice that they have about Christianity, which was never Christianity as far as Azariah was concerned.
"...Azariah," Sona started to ask, while Azariah was writing down the notes. "Can I ask something? How does your GOD operate in your world specifically?"
Azariah became thoughtful while continuing to write. "Hmm... that really depends on what you mean, my lady, and that's not even getting into the fact of what you actually mean by the term, "world", because if you mean just the physical universe... then, respectfully, that's thinking a little too small."
"What do you mean?" Sona asked, inquiringly.
"Back in my world, various learned men from the patristics, scholastics, and medieval eras had developed the thought of the possibility of other worlds. Hence, the Universe, in the proper sense of the word, meant more than just the physical and empirically identifiable category, but it also expresses a created order of spirituals and materials, nesting within a world. A Multiverses of Multiverses, to put it simply in the most basic understanding of the word."
Rias and Sona blinked a little. Did they hear that right? Already back then, Azariah's Earth had thinkers like that?
"That... is far too different from how our own medieval times had ever had," Sona muttered softly. "I've always remembered that era for the burning of witches associated with devils and the Church's monopoly on controlling the magic systems of the world."
"Hmm... while my planet's Medieval Ages weren't perfect - and all eras do have their own personal faults that should not be repeated - it was a lot more developed than some people in my own modern era ever realized. In fact, long before the printing press even came to be, it was the Catholic Church who managed to preserve culture and science, with countless hardworking monks who translated the various works of philosophers and scientists that modernity still read today. Of course, a lot of people still think the Catholic Church is some kind of Whore of Babylon because we just so happen to not go with the flow with what Martin Luther, John Calvin, and others think the Church should be. The Catholic Church in my world is countercultural yet accepting of culture by nature," Azariah spoke softly while writing.
Rias shook her head with a sigh. "So, I have to ask. Has the Church of your world... your planet, I mean, ever had documented encounters with Non-Christian entities?"
"...Plenty actually," Azariah spoke thoughtfully. "Though the modern-day skeptics usually consider that as unverifiable legends, even though the Church had documented records of such cases. The more recent ones happened during the 20th Century of my Earth. My Earth's World War II was... probably a bit different from yours." He spoke grimly.
"...Different how?" Sona asked, inquiringly.
Azariah became a bit too silent as he continued writing. He continued, though carefully. "Can I ask something before I answer? What was the point of view of the supernatural factions of this world around the time of World War II?"
"Well, it was mainly an opportunistic grab for several factions; both the Allied Forces and the Axis Powers had a varying number of secret magician agents, which was quite a boon for both. Hitler's quest for multiple Sacred Gears became a popular project, and eventually an exchange trade in the politico-natural sphere. Most of the human world had no idea that the supernatural factions had been using both sides of the war for their own volitions," Sona explained softly.
"Ah, I see..." Azariah spoke softly while continuing to write. "And... how did World War II end?"
"1945. Even the humans of this world knew of it as the ending of World War II when Hitler committed suicide. Though that was mainly a cover-up," Sona spoke softly, arms crossed. "My sister told me that someone silenced Hitler before he could testify about something. Whatever the case, whoever did it had the power to use light magic. There are plenty of beings and factions who could qualify in using Light Magic, hence it's quite diffuclt to actually ascertain who did it, the perpretators knew exactly what they were doing, and they probably knew that it didn't matter for most of the humans on how Hitler died, but that he be taken out of the picture."
Azariah listened carefully. Of course plenty of people would celebrate the death of Hitler and give no care as to how he even died. There is this common instinct of people celebrating the deaths of people that were considered monsters in every sense of the word. And yet, here's something most people forgot. Christ Himself came especially for the monsters. Those who truly followed Judeo-Christianity would never celebrate the deaths of anyone. Ever. He could only recall the timely example of his Earth's Saint Therese of Liseux, who had prayed for an actual criminal with a considerable count of murder - a.k.a. someone who, in America's standards, would laud for death, and the LORD even then still answered her prayer. Thus, he criminal who was an iredeemable monster to the eyes of the world, repented completely by kissing the Crucifix.
...Not even the world and its beliefs had a final say regarding souls. Nobody and nothing had a final say. Only the Cross. Only Mercy.
"...So, what about yours? What kind of World War II had occured on your Earth?" Sona asked, while everyone else in the room listened in carefully.
Azariah's expression was grim, with a quiet sigh. "...To the people of my Earth in the 21st Century, on the surface, it looks like a human conflict. One of those cases where human cruelty and vegeance is clearly shown. However... that's the surface level behind the reality. My World War II was far darker. There were a lot of things that the black and white official documentaries never truly recorded. Such as... Hell being unleashed."
...The entire room dropped in temperature. Everyone paid close attention.
"...Hell being unleashed?" Asia said carefully, having finally spoken, holding Azariah's pocket Bible with her hands.
"...As I said before, the True Kingdom of Hell reached even to the physical, an Empire of Sin and Death. So... if you take that to its logical conclusion, you'd get... something like soldiers from the Axis Powers getting possessed completely, because they were the most vulnerable to be so, due to how their actions of conquest reverberate even into the spiritual. They opened the door, with their bloody massacres, and Hell answered." Azariah spoke grimly.
...He could still recall the old classified documentaries. It was something that the Doctor had shown him and Richard back then. Nobody back then ever wanted any of that to get out into the general public. The world, planet Earth as it was, wasn't truthfully ready for that kind of horror. Of how Axis soldiers became the proxy, where they, with their own actions, got possessed by something that served the First and Last Dark Lord.
They weren't angels and demons. They were something of a completely different category. Enslaved Damned. With darker pitch black eyes reflecting the Outer Darkness. But they were not just confined to possessing Axis Powers soldiers. They even brought resupplied reinforcements with other Axis Powers soldiers from different Earths, most unknown, carrying those same black eerie eyes. It was in fact the first brush contact that the Allies, and by extension, the modern era, had with parallel universes in the science fiction sense of the word, which was only part of the larger hierarchical chain of cosmoses within Azariah's universe.
Genesis 6:5 already gave a hint to what these Enslaved Damned were. They weren't like the genuine Damned from the Hell of the Damned. They were something that even J.R.R. Tolkien hinted at when writing about the Orcs. What happens... if the Devil can in fact sub-create, once mankind had allowed themselves to fall? Because when the Devil had once claimed to Christ that all of the kingdoms of the world are his to give, that may in fact be the only possible time when he wasn't lying, because when Scripture gives the Devil such grand titles like prince of the world, god of the world, prince of the power of the air, and more... it spoke of that Monster's power over all spiritual orders and all material orders. The Devil cannot create. He, like all creatures, can only sub-create, but in the highest degree unimaginable.
"...There were these beings in my Earth who keep possessing these poor soldiers. Allied soldiers, starting with the Americans, coined the term BEDs to describe these things," Azariah spoke grimly.
"BEDs?" Rias asked with both intrigue and caution.
"Black-Eyed Daimoniacs," Azariah spoke grimly. "They weren't angels or humans. They were something else. Entire races of enslaved damned, from origins too terrible to imagine. When the BEDs show up... there weren't any survivors. Things got so bad that... well, the Allies literally begged Pope Pius XII for help. The Pope of course naturally responded. He couldn't of course make known the existence of the BEDs directly, but he did discreetly ordered the entire Catholic world's bishops to assist the Allies, either through the Sacraments, through its' exorcist priests delegated by the bishops, or through the Knights of the Holy Orders that had been around since the time of the Crusades."
"...Knights of the Holy Orders?" Sona asked, while taking note of Azariah's explanation.
"The Knights Templar, the Knights Hospitaller, the Order of the Holy Sepulchre, the Order of Saint James, the Order of Calatrava, and the Teutonic Knights, among other religious knights. The Knights of the Holy Orders aren't really a secret, and some people thought they were simply leftovers of the time of the so-called violent Crusades. But what people didn't know was that... the Crusaders were not just originally created to retake Jerusalem and defend the Christians from Muslim warlords, they were there... because something darker had once tried to invade Earth centuries ago. The Church had always been the first and last line of defense against threats that threatened GOD's Order of Love, Mercy, and Compassion. It's how things like the just war theory were really fleshed out. You fight, not your fellow man, but against the real Enemy that uses all things against man," Azariah spoke grimly while he wrote everything down.
Everyone was quietly silent while they tried to process what Azariah said. Rias and Sona looked at each other grimly, before they looked back at Azariah.
"...How likely should we be worried about these BEDs?" Sona asked carefully.
"...Probably likely," Azariah spoke grimly while drawing out his Saint Benedict Rosary from his pocket, which made all of the devils stare at it with... actually, they never felt any pain. Again. But they couldn't help but stare at that simple black rosary that held Saint Benedict Medals on them. They felt nothing. Nothing was happening. But that in fact is what made them twitchy on the inside. A major difference between the rosaries of their world, and Azariah's rosary which belonged to the hidden yet true hierarchy.
"When I found out about the BEDs myself, the first thing I'd always do is keep carrying sacramentals within my person. It's one of the only things in my Earth that the BEDs answer too, not because they are magic because they aren't, but rather, they connect back with the Seven Sacraments of the Church, and those Seven Sacraments connect back to Christ's authority. It's not the shape of the object, it's the meaning behind the object. The object and the faith are both important. Faith and works. Not faith alone." He said, before tucking it back respectfully, and kept writing the notes on paper.
Nobody liked what they were hearing. Azariah was one thing. But now they have to worry about darker forces that their world had never encountered before. Or maybe they had already. They just never noticed them until Azariah broke down the veil.
And then...
"Hmm?"
The first thing Azariah noted was his body slowly flickering. Everyone noticed, much to their growing alarm.
"What's happening?!" Akeno muttered in concern, as she also noticed Asia also flickering, much to the latter's concern as she noticed her own body slowly disappearing somewhere.
Azariah muttered grimly as he places the pen on the table. "I'm not entirely sure..." His quick-thinking allowed him at least to discern one thing. "...But I have a feeling this has something to do with how I ended up here." He looked at Rias and Sona. "...Remember what I said," He gently cautioned, before he and Asia disappear. "Discern, don't jump to conclusions, and... pray to the Most High." He muttered.
...And afterward, they both vanished, leaving a stunned group of devils in the room.
Rias and Sona slowly glanced at each other. They had no idea why... but they have a very good feeling that they would see them again. But the real question is... where did Azariah and Asia go?
...The first thing that Azariah and Asia both noticed was that their rears hit the ground floor.
Azariah immediately tried to stand up, and gently lifted Asia up. "Are you alright?"
Asia slowly nodded, with a hum, as she glances at what appeared to be an alleyway of a city of sorts. "...Where are we?" She couldn't help but ask, as she clutched Azariah's pocket bible.
Azariah muttered softly as he glanced around. "I'm not quite sure yet..." before he noticed the sudden appearance of a running, gasping blonde-haired foreign young woman with a worn-out black barret hat and red skirt who turned and quietly held her one hand to the side of a wall nearby, being a little tired.
...She looked terrible. Like she'd been roughed up in some kind of interrogation.
Asia muttered. "Oh my... are you alright?" She tried to draw closer, but the woman was extremely cautious.
"Who are you?!" She exclaims, making Asia step back a little with blinking eyes. "Are you with SCHOOL?! To hell with you all, I'm not going back to that place?!"
SCHOOL? Azariah noticed the term. And that familiar voice. Something clicked. He looked at the woman again and drew out a memory from his own mind.
...Oh. Oh...
He knows who this woman is.
Frenda Seivelun.
Which means...
...This is Academy City.
This is A Certain Magical Index.
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We going on a bizarre adventure to spread the gospel
Chapter 7 - Loop World 2 - A Certain Magical Index
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...This can't be good.
Azariah was quietly contemplating what to do in this situation. Asia Argento was one thing, and she was easier to handle. Frenda Seivulun, on the other hand, is a bit more challenging. Unlike Asia, Frenda is a bona fide professional killer of a group named ITEM, tainted in blood and influenced by the corruption that brews within the dark side of Academy City, a vast interconnected criminal underworld filled to the brim with dubious pseudo-scientific projects, black market-esque deals, and a whole lot of dead bodies, most of them being just children.
His mind raced against the clock; he was trying to discern where and when he and Asia ended up in the A Certain Magical Index timeline. Unlike High School DxD, A Certain Magical Index is a more fully fleshed-out world, with a lot more nuances and questions still left unanswered, because there had been a whole lot of spin-offs that were published concurrently with the original light novel source materials. The kind of world that had been depicted was this. On the surface, its main setting, Academy City, had progressed greatly in the fields of science, and considers what cannot be explained as science to be nothing but bygone superstitions that had been outgrown completely.
The result?
The worst fears that a true Catholic mind can realize. Azariah is looking at a combination of Enlightenment, Thelemic, and Kabbalistic thought, all intertwined with no apparent contradiction. Because that's exactly what Academy City is at its most logical endpoint. Its Espers were based on pseudo-scientific principles that aligned with Thelema and Kabbalah instead of legitimate science, in a world where pseudo-scientific principles form the basis of this world's logical, metaphysical, and spiritual framework.
Magic and science in this world, all head-to-head in conflicting tensions on both the subtly political and innovative prowess of both sides, was in fact a manufactured lie crafted by none other than the infamous board chairman, who just happened to be this world's version of Aleister Crowley.
Azariah had discovered and studied about his world's Aleister Crowley, all because of watching and reading A Certain Magical Index. What he found out in his research was a whole lot of red flags.
A self-proclaimed prophet with a penchant for expertise in various fields of the occult. A terrible childhood that basically gives a pretty good reason why the vast umbrella of Fundamentalist Christianity was not enough to convey true spiritual truths.
In fact, since A Certain Magical Index franchise did owe a greater part to the past works and indirect inspiring influence of his world's Aleister Crowley, then it would not be out of place to conjecture and extrapolate that all of the so-called Christian groups in A Certain Magical Index, most if not all of them, is in fact what happens if you combine Fundamentalist Christian principles and staple it with a flare for magic systems all drawn from various myths, upheld in a Thelemic and Kaballistic structure instead of the Great Chain of Being.
In other words, A Certain Magical Index is a reflection of his world's Aleister Crowley's own ideals, if taken to its extreme and unimaginable logical conclusion. A world where the real Judeo-Christian GOD was never truly known and was completely denied of Him. A world where humans become the gods by doing their own will, and both magic and science are just total expressions of that will. A world where everything can be legitimately explained by both magic and science because both of them essentially drew from the unified theory proposed by Francis Bacon. A world stripped of mysteries completely and mercy no longer rules, resulting in a morally bankrupt world where the agnosticism pattern holds sway.
...And now.
Azariah glanced quietly at the frantically stressed and tired Frenda. Unlike in High School DxD, where he could at least appeal to the better natures of the inhabitants, he was now in actual enemy territory from the perspective of a Catholic Christian. If he tried to talk with Frenda, multiple consequences could ensue, and whatever those consequences were, it wasn't good in the long run.
Because that was basically the established design flaw and engineered status quo in Academy City. Even the victory of the heroes in this city and in other parts of the world is staged by a grand chessmaster of tragedy, this world's Aleister Crowley, and one other person on the other side of the world posing as an Archbishop of the Church of England, who was essentially a terrible demon that, if let loose, could destroy this world.
Azariah wouldn't put it past the conclusion that someone dies almost every single day in this world, all because, on the side of magic, because if someone uses magic, any magic at all, the result is that something called sparks would be created from within the phases of this world, sort-of like magic tectonic layers within layers that are embedded all together like multiple colors on a canvas, all hosting divine legends and religions.
Effectively speaking, using magic warps causality and influences every single event in this world's history. Why is that bad? Imagine a rippling butterfly effect, where every action results in misfortune. You know that catchphrase from one Touma Kamijou? Such misfortune? That's not a random catchphrase; that's a key to unlocking the entire horror of what this world really signifies.
In this world, every accident was caused by someone using magic. Every evil that has ever been enacted was caused by someone using magic. Every injustice was caused by someone using magic. This was a world that was locked completely from actual graces, and what replaced it was a counterfeit system where misfortune is this world's inverted grace, where the past has locked the future out of plurality and into a tyrannical determinism of who lives and who dies.
...And in Frenda's case? She's just one casualty in a long, long line of casualties in this world's history.
Azariah needed to think carefully about how to proceed from now on. Frenda, in her frantic breath, mentioned something about SCHOOL. Azariah recognized the name as belonging to a dark side group whose leader was the #2 Level 5 Esper of Academy City, Teitoku Kakine.
Depending on where in the timeline, he went from maybe not that bad of a guy and just preferably try to stay out of his way so that you won't get hurt, to... a bona fide villain who once broke Kazari Uiharu's arm and pretty much has gone off the deep end. Looking at Frenda's state and what she had just said, Azariah only had two options on where in the timeline he truly was in A Certain Magical Index.
Either he was in the timeframe of the Railgun Arc, in this case, Frenda protected Ruiko Saten from one of SCHOOL's operatives, Rakko Yumiya, or... they were right smack in the middle of a Dark Side War, where... Frenda dies to Mugino Shizuri, due to her ratting the latter and the rest of ITEM out because of Kakine having interrogated her.
...Azariah couldn't just let Frenda die.
A Certain Magical Index was essentially a living textbook on why all fates and destinies are false gods. It's the embodiment of the flawed modern belief that a person is capable of making one's own destiny, and that results in others' destinies being chained down to that person's destiny. No actual freedom of choice Just the illusion and counterfeit of it.
If Frenda had already ratted out ITEM, then she literally has nowhere to go. Well... she could have gone to Ruiko Saten, but why didn't she? Maybe Mugino caught onto her first. It was never really totally explained how Mugino managed to find Frenda so easily. Whatever the case, he needed to act fast. For all he knew, Mugino was already on Frenda's tail.
Options? Too limited. He could try to head to Tokiwadai and ask both Mikoto Misaka and Misaki Shokuhou for help. Yes, both of them, Level 5 Espers, who by this time would probably not be as antagonistic compared to that one time in Daihaseisai. But considering that Tokiwadai is an all-girls' school, he can't exactly get in because he's a man, so he'd stick out like a sore thumb, and some may even be suspicious about him. He could try to respectfully get into the good graces of the Tokiwadai Dorm Supervisor, but considering he's asking for help from the two Level 5 Espers that are under her, by virtue of them being Tokiwadai students, he's not even totally sure if she could help them truly because they are a risk factor overall.
But what else can be done? Everywhere he goes in this city is basically a death trap. Almost no safe zone. Crowley especially has nanotechnological sensors all over the city, so everything he does is basically under overwatch. In fact, Crowley would immediately notice his and Asia's arrival. So now he has to worry about one of the most powerful and deadly magicians on this planet, who could pretty much end him if he deemed Azariah an overall threat to his plans. He did try to get rid of Shiage Hamazura after all, to minimal success.
Alright, Tokiwadai it is.
Next problem. How does he convince Frenda to at least cooperate? He's not asking her to trust him; that would be trying to coerce her will, something he'd rather not do and will never do. The only other option is to tell the truth, at least as much as he knew about Frenda herself. But if he did, Frenda would be even more suspicious, not to mention Crowley would hear what he's saying. Every word of his mouth is recorded in real time, and Crowley could use it as leverage against him.
Azariah breathed a quiet sigh, remaining calm and... quietly prayed the Our Father for strength, not for anything else except for the fulfillment of His Will and for His Kingdom to reign. This world may be a completely different paradigm that is inherently hostile to genuine Catholic principles, but the LORD is above all metaphysical and spiritual frameworks. This was still GOD's world, just like any other world. It's just in both absolute denial and suffering amnesia about it.
Then, he started to open his mouth. "You got this all wrong," He raised his hands in the air, just to complete the gesture. Asia and Frenda looked at him, the first was looking at him with concern while holding his pocket Bible, and the latter was looking at him with understandable suspicion. "We're not from SCHOOL or from any Dark Side organization. We're foreigners who are not native to Academy City."
That part is true. They were foreigners in every sense of the word. Azariah was even more so, who comes from a world that was blessed far too much by Love.
"My name is Azariah, and the woman associated with me is Asia Argento. We don't want any trouble, but I can tell at least that you seem to be in trouble yourself." Azariah spoke in genuine concern, but he did not move from the spot in order not to provoke the possibly trigger-happy blonde.
Frenda gritted her teeth. A silence quietly reigned in the alleyway. Her expression was twitchy. "Heh, for a bunch of foreigners, you seem to be totally aware of the dark side."
"My associate doesn't know anything about the dark side, only I do," Azariah explained calmly. "Let me guess, what's happening right now is that the dark side organizations are at war with each other, and you're part of that war?"
"So you do know what's happening then," Frenda muttered, one of her hands placed on the wall, tightening to a fist.
Bingo. Azariah thought grimly. He was right. This was A Certain Magical Index Season 3's timeframe.
"I know some, but not all," Azariah humbly explained. "And I do know that you need help. We don't really have much to offer in the way of help, but I can tell that you don't really have options yourself."
Frenda was still suspicious and maintained her distance a little. Understandable. "...Basically, what exactly are you trying to say?" she asked.
"...We can help you try to escape whatever it is you're running from," Azariah explained. "I'm not saying, escape the dark side altogether. All I'm saying is, we can try to find a place or something to hunker down and rest. You clearly look like you can't even go back to your own team. Let met guess, you ratted your own team out just to save your own skin?"
Frenda flinched violently. Azariah was unfortunately right.
"Look, I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm only asking you to let me try to help you. What have you actually got to lose against someone like me? Look at me. I don't have any weapons. I don't have any esper powers. I don't have good hacking skills. I'm not even a Level 0. I'm just a normal person who can easily die to someone like you who has probably killed far too many people in your line of work, so trying to betray you would be useless in and of itself," Azariah explained calmly and with genuine concern.
"Hmph, then that means you're essentially useless," Frenda spoke with that familiar haughty tone, but no genuine humor.
"Pretty much," Azariah nodded. "I'm nobody. I'm nothing. Whatever you do is your choice if you want me and my associate to help you or not."
Frenda thoughtfully narrowed her gaze at Azariah, who stared at her head on. She knew plenty of liars in her line of work. She was a pretty good liar herself. But this person? Something about him feels off. The way he carries himself. The way he talks. No sign of any twitchy and suspicious movement. He's... clean. And that felt more disturbing to Frenda than anything. Nobody is this clean, especially not someone who knows about the dark side. There has to be some catch.
She glanced at Asia, the latter's eyes were as just genuine and showed no absolute idea what she had just walked into. Something about this timing was making her feel uncomfortable. But the unfortunate fact was, this Azariah punk was telling the truth, and it hurts. She could never go back, not to ITEM, and not especially to Mugino, who was already probably trying to hunt her down.
What else was she suppose to do? She didn't want to die. She had to live. Especially when...
...Fremea. Her sister. If she dies, what would happen to her? Mugino and the rest of ITEM at least isn't aware of Fremea so she's safe. But in a city like this, what would happen to her sister if Frenda herself dies? She refused to die like some discarded animal that's completely overused its purpose. She looked at this Azariah punk again. He looked at her straight on, not with some self-righteous posture, but he's completely surrendering at her mercy.
Was this punk even associated with the dark side? He doesn't act like it. Not even acting like an amateur about it. For someone who seem to know about the dark side, he was too clean. That... ticked her a little. But Frenda doesn't even have any options anymore. She could try to look into any of her safehouses, but Mugino could probably find her no matter where she hides. All she really has right now is this punk and his Italian-looking blondie dressed like some nun.
Frenda bites her lips. No option. She walks towards Azariah with small, deliberate steps before grabbing him by the collar. "Alright. I'll take your word. Don't think this means I trust you. You try anything—" she squeezed, fingers like a vice, "—you die."
Azariah met her grip without flinching. "Understood." He didn't blink. He didn't move. That steadiness, that lack of scheming, disarmed her in a way bullets never had.
Frenda pushed him a little, letting go of his collar. To Azariah's credit, he didn't fall like some anime protagonist.
She huffed, hands to her waist. "So, Mr. Foreign Hotshot, any ideas on how you could help me, even though you clearly said that you were more useless than a mule?"
Asia, with a concerned frown, quietly walked towards Azariah, who sighed quietly before responding. "Well, first things first, we still have to worry about how you're probably on the run from a very dangerous Level 5, if I'm not mistaken."
"Heh, dangerous is an understatement," Frenda made a deriding smirk, recalling darkly just how dangerous Mugino can really be. "I'm practically a walking dead woman who would get tagged no matter where I move."
"Which is why I propose something rather unorthodox yet stupid. We head to Tokiwadai, and we don't stop until we get there," Azariah explained grimly.
Frenda blinked a little. "You're kidding, right?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Umm... what's Tokiwadai?" Asia asked Azariah because she did not actually know what Tokiwadai really was.
Before Azariah could answer, Frenda beat him to the punch. "Heh, it's pretty much a place where all types of ojou-samas from different rich and connected family backgrounds go too." She flipped a part of her blond hair as she explained with a matter-of-fact tone. "Basically, it's just a gathering of a bunch of weird, stuck-up, spoiled brats who get excited about the latest fashion news and scientific discoveries."
"I would have worded it a little nicer, but it's true, Asia," Azariah sported an empathetic look. "It is a place that, on the surface, looks like a normal top private school within this city, but... let's just say most of the girls who attend that school aren't exactly well-adjusted."
"Pftt, you call that nicer? I call that brutal," Frenda looked bemused while watching Azariah's movements. "Because that's exactly what Tokiwadai is. It's basically a chain of socialites with cliques as a public cover for who's really in charge."
"Just like a tropey American middle school, but all of the bullies in this case are esper women with varied personalities, and one wrong social move could set off a clique war," Azariah added.
"So yeah, why of all places do you want to go there?" Frenda raised an eyebrow.
"Because of Misaka Mikoto, as one of the reasons," Azariah explained simply.
Frenda became a little surprised before frowning in quiet suspicion. "Hold on... You know the Railgun?"
"I know her a little, but she doesn't know me," Azariah explained carefully yet humbly. "My plan is basically to ask her, and one other Level 5, Mental Out, who both attend that school, for some extra help against the Level 5 esper that's after you."
Frenda became silent. She looked at him in disbelief. She chuckled, but it was a little dead. "...Yeah, well, good luck with that. Even if we somehow managed to get into Tokiwadai, what makes you think the Railgun would help someone like me? Cause I may have... or rather, ITEM, back in the day, was kind of involved with Railgun's darker little secret," she said, her eyes glancing towards the street.
"The Radio Noise Project, you mean?" Azariah spoke grimly.
Frenda narrowed her eyes a little before smiling quietly. "Basically. So again, what makes you think she'd help out someone like me? And don't give me that crap about her helping me anyway out of the goodness of her heart, she'd still be suspicious of me and bring me to Judgment on a cuff."
"Because... Misaka Mikoto is friends with Saten Ruiko," Azariah explained calmly.
Frenda felt her heart stop. Her eyes widened. Then it quietly hardened a little, muttering darkly. "All told, I'm starting to wonder how much you really know about me."
"Honestly, not much," Azariah explained calmly. It was true. Even though Azariah had seen A Certain Magical Index and its spin-offs, that did not equate to omnipotent knowledge of the world in question. It's an imperfect approximation, so for all he knew, he was basically running on guesswork where one wrong word could have consequences, which is why he is careful to even share this knowledge in the first place. "The sources that I use aren't even from the dark side, but from anonymous yet unorthodox sources; said sources, in fact, don't even know I'm using them as a basis for my knowledge to share."
"Heeh, anonymous, is it? Well, try it on me then, what do you actually know about me?" Frenda asked, while her tone was steel and cautious, hands on her waist.
"Your name is Frenda Seivelun. You have a younger sister named Fremea Seivulun. You've got multiple connections throughout Academy City in your spare time, among them Saten Ruiko, a friend of Misaka Mikoto. You have this tendency to value your legs because of your pride as a woman." Azariah recited calmly yet humbly.
"Hold it, hold it, back up!" Frenda pointed at him with a glare that turned into heat, while Asia blinked at this entire exchange. "What's with that random trivia at the end? What kind of anonymous sources listed that as legit info?!"
Azariah sighed heavily. "If it means anything, even I wonder about that myself."
"That is not an answer!" Frenda exclaims, before she started accusing him. "Or wait... don't tell me you're some kind of leg pervert!" Her hands were covering her own legs in exaggeration, while there was a clear sign of a red blush on her cheeks.
"Admiring legs is perverted now?" Azariah was genuinely mindboggled at such a leap of logic. "It's as part of yourself as any other part of your body, and all of it makes up who you are. So why is that even perverted?"
"Tha..." Frenda couldn't even believe what she was just hearing right now, while her blush was luminous and twitching.
...Who the hell is this punk?!
Azariah was quietly contemplating what to do in this situation. Asia Argento was one thing, and she was easier to handle. Frenda Seivulun, on the other hand, is a bit more challenging. Unlike Asia, Frenda is a bona fide professional killer of a group named ITEM, tainted in blood and influenced by the corruption that brews within the dark side of Academy City, a vast interconnected criminal underworld filled to the brim with dubious pseudo-scientific projects, black market-esque deals, and a whole lot of dead bodies, most of them being just children.
His mind raced against the clock; he was trying to discern where and when he and Asia ended up in the A Certain Magical Index timeline. Unlike High School DxD, A Certain Magical Index is a more fully fleshed-out world, with a lot more nuances and questions still left unanswered, because there had been a whole lot of spin-offs that were published concurrently with the original light novel source materials. The kind of world that had been depicted was this. On the surface, its main setting, Academy City, had progressed greatly in the fields of science, and considers what cannot be explained as science to be nothing but bygone superstitions that had been outgrown completely.
The result?
The worst fears that a true Catholic mind can realize. Azariah is looking at a combination of Enlightenment, Thelemic, and Kabbalistic thought, all intertwined with no apparent contradiction. Because that's exactly what Academy City is at its most logical endpoint. Its Espers were based on pseudo-scientific principles that aligned with Thelema and Kabbalah instead of legitimate science, in a world where pseudo-scientific principles form the basis of this world's logical, metaphysical, and spiritual framework.
Magic and science in this world, all head-to-head in conflicting tensions on both the subtly political and innovative prowess of both sides, was in fact a manufactured lie crafted by none other than the infamous board chairman, who just happened to be this world's version of Aleister Crowley.
Azariah had discovered and studied about his world's Aleister Crowley, all because of watching and reading A Certain Magical Index. What he found out in his research was a whole lot of red flags.
A self-proclaimed prophet with a penchant for expertise in various fields of the occult. A terrible childhood that basically gives a pretty good reason why the vast umbrella of Fundamentalist Christianity was not enough to convey true spiritual truths.
In fact, since A Certain Magical Index franchise did owe a greater part to the past works and indirect inspiring influence of his world's Aleister Crowley, then it would not be out of place to conjecture and extrapolate that all of the so-called Christian groups in A Certain Magical Index, most if not all of them, is in fact what happens if you combine Fundamentalist Christian principles and staple it with a flare for magic systems all drawn from various myths, upheld in a Thelemic and Kaballistic structure instead of the Great Chain of Being.
In other words, A Certain Magical Index is a reflection of his world's Aleister Crowley's own ideals, if taken to its extreme and unimaginable logical conclusion. A world where the real Judeo-Christian GOD was never truly known and was completely denied of Him. A world where humans become the gods by doing their own will, and both magic and science are just total expressions of that will. A world where everything can be legitimately explained by both magic and science because both of them essentially drew from the unified theory proposed by Francis Bacon. A world stripped of mysteries completely and mercy no longer rules, resulting in a morally bankrupt world where the agnosticism pattern holds sway.
...And now.
Azariah glanced quietly at the frantically stressed and tired Frenda. Unlike in High School DxD, where he could at least appeal to the better natures of the inhabitants, he was now in actual enemy territory from the perspective of a Catholic Christian. If he tried to talk with Frenda, multiple consequences could ensue, and whatever those consequences were, it wasn't good in the long run.
Because that was basically the established design flaw and engineered status quo in Academy City. Even the victory of the heroes in this city and in other parts of the world is staged by a grand chessmaster of tragedy, this world's Aleister Crowley, and one other person on the other side of the world posing as an Archbishop of the Church of England, who was essentially a terrible demon that, if let loose, could destroy this world.
Azariah wouldn't put it past the conclusion that someone dies almost every single day in this world, all because, on the side of magic, because if someone uses magic, any magic at all, the result is that something called sparks would be created from within the phases of this world, sort-of like magic tectonic layers within layers that are embedded all together like multiple colors on a canvas, all hosting divine legends and religions.
Effectively speaking, using magic warps causality and influences every single event in this world's history. Why is that bad? Imagine a rippling butterfly effect, where every action results in misfortune. You know that catchphrase from one Touma Kamijou? Such misfortune? That's not a random catchphrase; that's a key to unlocking the entire horror of what this world really signifies.
In this world, every accident was caused by someone using magic. Every evil that has ever been enacted was caused by someone using magic. Every injustice was caused by someone using magic. This was a world that was locked completely from actual graces, and what replaced it was a counterfeit system where misfortune is this world's inverted grace, where the past has locked the future out of plurality and into a tyrannical determinism of who lives and who dies.
...And in Frenda's case? She's just one casualty in a long, long line of casualties in this world's history.
Azariah needed to think carefully about how to proceed from now on. Frenda, in her frantic breath, mentioned something about SCHOOL. Azariah recognized the name as belonging to a dark side group whose leader was the #2 Level 5 Esper of Academy City, Teitoku Kakine.
Depending on where in the timeline, he went from maybe not that bad of a guy and just preferably try to stay out of his way so that you won't get hurt, to... a bona fide villain who once broke Kazari Uiharu's arm and pretty much has gone off the deep end. Looking at Frenda's state and what she had just said, Azariah only had two options on where in the timeline he truly was in A Certain Magical Index.
Either he was in the timeframe of the Railgun Arc, in this case, Frenda protected Ruiko Saten from one of SCHOOL's operatives, Rakko Yumiya, or... they were right smack in the middle of a Dark Side War, where... Frenda dies to Mugino Shizuri, due to her ratting the latter and the rest of ITEM out because of Kakine having interrogated her.
...Azariah couldn't just let Frenda die.
A Certain Magical Index was essentially a living textbook on why all fates and destinies are false gods. It's the embodiment of the flawed modern belief that a person is capable of making one's own destiny, and that results in others' destinies being chained down to that person's destiny. No actual freedom of choice Just the illusion and counterfeit of it.
If Frenda had already ratted out ITEM, then she literally has nowhere to go. Well... she could have gone to Ruiko Saten, but why didn't she? Maybe Mugino caught onto her first. It was never really totally explained how Mugino managed to find Frenda so easily. Whatever the case, he needed to act fast. For all he knew, Mugino was already on Frenda's tail.
Options? Too limited. He could try to head to Tokiwadai and ask both Mikoto Misaka and Misaki Shokuhou for help. Yes, both of them, Level 5 Espers, who by this time would probably not be as antagonistic compared to that one time in Daihaseisai. But considering that Tokiwadai is an all-girls' school, he can't exactly get in because he's a man, so he'd stick out like a sore thumb, and some may even be suspicious about him. He could try to respectfully get into the good graces of the Tokiwadai Dorm Supervisor, but considering he's asking for help from the two Level 5 Espers that are under her, by virtue of them being Tokiwadai students, he's not even totally sure if she could help them truly because they are a risk factor overall.
But what else can be done? Everywhere he goes in this city is basically a death trap. Almost no safe zone. Crowley especially has nanotechnological sensors all over the city, so everything he does is basically under overwatch. In fact, Crowley would immediately notice his and Asia's arrival. So now he has to worry about one of the most powerful and deadly magicians on this planet, who could pretty much end him if he deemed Azariah an overall threat to his plans. He did try to get rid of Shiage Hamazura after all, to minimal success.
Alright, Tokiwadai it is.
Next problem. How does he convince Frenda to at least cooperate? He's not asking her to trust him; that would be trying to coerce her will, something he'd rather not do and will never do. The only other option is to tell the truth, at least as much as he knew about Frenda herself. But if he did, Frenda would be even more suspicious, not to mention Crowley would hear what he's saying. Every word of his mouth is recorded in real time, and Crowley could use it as leverage against him.
Azariah breathed a quiet sigh, remaining calm and... quietly prayed the Our Father for strength, not for anything else except for the fulfillment of His Will and for His Kingdom to reign. This world may be a completely different paradigm that is inherently hostile to genuine Catholic principles, but the LORD is above all metaphysical and spiritual frameworks. This was still GOD's world, just like any other world. It's just in both absolute denial and suffering amnesia about it.
Then, he started to open his mouth. "You got this all wrong," He raised his hands in the air, just to complete the gesture. Asia and Frenda looked at him, the first was looking at him with concern while holding his pocket Bible, and the latter was looking at him with understandable suspicion. "We're not from SCHOOL or from any Dark Side organization. We're foreigners who are not native to Academy City."
That part is true. They were foreigners in every sense of the word. Azariah was even more so, who comes from a world that was blessed far too much by Love.
"My name is Azariah, and the woman associated with me is Asia Argento. We don't want any trouble, but I can tell at least that you seem to be in trouble yourself." Azariah spoke in genuine concern, but he did not move from the spot in order not to provoke the possibly trigger-happy blonde.
Frenda gritted her teeth. A silence quietly reigned in the alleyway. Her expression was twitchy. "Heh, for a bunch of foreigners, you seem to be totally aware of the dark side."
"My associate doesn't know anything about the dark side, only I do," Azariah explained calmly. "Let me guess, what's happening right now is that the dark side organizations are at war with each other, and you're part of that war?"
"So you do know what's happening then," Frenda muttered, one of her hands placed on the wall, tightening to a fist.
Bingo. Azariah thought grimly. He was right. This was A Certain Magical Index Season 3's timeframe.
"I know some, but not all," Azariah humbly explained. "And I do know that you need help. We don't really have much to offer in the way of help, but I can tell that you don't really have options yourself."
Frenda was still suspicious and maintained her distance a little. Understandable. "...Basically, what exactly are you trying to say?" she asked.
"...We can help you try to escape whatever it is you're running from," Azariah explained. "I'm not saying, escape the dark side altogether. All I'm saying is, we can try to find a place or something to hunker down and rest. You clearly look like you can't even go back to your own team. Let met guess, you ratted your own team out just to save your own skin?"
Frenda flinched violently. Azariah was unfortunately right.
"Look, I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm only asking you to let me try to help you. What have you actually got to lose against someone like me? Look at me. I don't have any weapons. I don't have any esper powers. I don't have good hacking skills. I'm not even a Level 0. I'm just a normal person who can easily die to someone like you who has probably killed far too many people in your line of work, so trying to betray you would be useless in and of itself," Azariah explained calmly and with genuine concern.
"Hmph, then that means you're essentially useless," Frenda spoke with that familiar haughty tone, but no genuine humor.
"Pretty much," Azariah nodded. "I'm nobody. I'm nothing. Whatever you do is your choice if you want me and my associate to help you or not."
Frenda thoughtfully narrowed her gaze at Azariah, who stared at her head on. She knew plenty of liars in her line of work. She was a pretty good liar herself. But this person? Something about him feels off. The way he carries himself. The way he talks. No sign of any twitchy and suspicious movement. He's... clean. And that felt more disturbing to Frenda than anything. Nobody is this clean, especially not someone who knows about the dark side. There has to be some catch.
She glanced at Asia, the latter's eyes were as just genuine and showed no absolute idea what she had just walked into. Something about this timing was making her feel uncomfortable. But the unfortunate fact was, this Azariah punk was telling the truth, and it hurts. She could never go back, not to ITEM, and not especially to Mugino, who was already probably trying to hunt her down.
What else was she suppose to do? She didn't want to die. She had to live. Especially when...
...Fremea. Her sister. If she dies, what would happen to her? Mugino and the rest of ITEM at least isn't aware of Fremea so she's safe. But in a city like this, what would happen to her sister if Frenda herself dies? She refused to die like some discarded animal that's completely overused its purpose. She looked at this Azariah punk again. He looked at her straight on, not with some self-righteous posture, but he's completely surrendering at her mercy.
Was this punk even associated with the dark side? He doesn't act like it. Not even acting like an amateur about it. For someone who seem to know about the dark side, he was too clean. That... ticked her a little. But Frenda doesn't even have any options anymore. She could try to look into any of her safehouses, but Mugino could probably find her no matter where she hides. All she really has right now is this punk and his Italian-looking blondie dressed like some nun.
Frenda bites her lips. No option. She walks towards Azariah with small, deliberate steps before grabbing him by the collar. "Alright. I'll take your word. Don't think this means I trust you. You try anything—" she squeezed, fingers like a vice, "—you die."
Azariah met her grip without flinching. "Understood." He didn't blink. He didn't move. That steadiness, that lack of scheming, disarmed her in a way bullets never had.
Frenda pushed him a little, letting go of his collar. To Azariah's credit, he didn't fall like some anime protagonist.
She huffed, hands to her waist. "So, Mr. Foreign Hotshot, any ideas on how you could help me, even though you clearly said that you were more useless than a mule?"
Asia, with a concerned frown, quietly walked towards Azariah, who sighed quietly before responding. "Well, first things first, we still have to worry about how you're probably on the run from a very dangerous Level 5, if I'm not mistaken."
"Heh, dangerous is an understatement," Frenda made a deriding smirk, recalling darkly just how dangerous Mugino can really be. "I'm practically a walking dead woman who would get tagged no matter where I move."
"Which is why I propose something rather unorthodox yet stupid. We head to Tokiwadai, and we don't stop until we get there," Azariah explained grimly.
Frenda blinked a little. "You're kidding, right?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Umm... what's Tokiwadai?" Asia asked Azariah because she did not actually know what Tokiwadai really was.
Before Azariah could answer, Frenda beat him to the punch. "Heh, it's pretty much a place where all types of ojou-samas from different rich and connected family backgrounds go too." She flipped a part of her blond hair as she explained with a matter-of-fact tone. "Basically, it's just a gathering of a bunch of weird, stuck-up, spoiled brats who get excited about the latest fashion news and scientific discoveries."
"I would have worded it a little nicer, but it's true, Asia," Azariah sported an empathetic look. "It is a place that, on the surface, looks like a normal top private school within this city, but... let's just say most of the girls who attend that school aren't exactly well-adjusted."
"Pftt, you call that nicer? I call that brutal," Frenda looked bemused while watching Azariah's movements. "Because that's exactly what Tokiwadai is. It's basically a chain of socialites with cliques as a public cover for who's really in charge."
"Just like a tropey American middle school, but all of the bullies in this case are esper women with varied personalities, and one wrong social move could set off a clique war," Azariah added.
"So yeah, why of all places do you want to go there?" Frenda raised an eyebrow.
"Because of Misaka Mikoto, as one of the reasons," Azariah explained simply.
Frenda became a little surprised before frowning in quiet suspicion. "Hold on... You know the Railgun?"
"I know her a little, but she doesn't know me," Azariah explained carefully yet humbly. "My plan is basically to ask her, and one other Level 5, Mental Out, who both attend that school, for some extra help against the Level 5 esper that's after you."
Frenda became silent. She looked at him in disbelief. She chuckled, but it was a little dead. "...Yeah, well, good luck with that. Even if we somehow managed to get into Tokiwadai, what makes you think the Railgun would help someone like me? Cause I may have... or rather, ITEM, back in the day, was kind of involved with Railgun's darker little secret," she said, her eyes glancing towards the street.
"The Radio Noise Project, you mean?" Azariah spoke grimly.
Frenda narrowed her eyes a little before smiling quietly. "Basically. So again, what makes you think she'd help out someone like me? And don't give me that crap about her helping me anyway out of the goodness of her heart, she'd still be suspicious of me and bring me to Judgment on a cuff."
"Because... Misaka Mikoto is friends with Saten Ruiko," Azariah explained calmly.
Frenda felt her heart stop. Her eyes widened. Then it quietly hardened a little, muttering darkly. "All told, I'm starting to wonder how much you really know about me."
"Honestly, not much," Azariah explained calmly. It was true. Even though Azariah had seen A Certain Magical Index and its spin-offs, that did not equate to omnipotent knowledge of the world in question. It's an imperfect approximation, so for all he knew, he was basically running on guesswork where one wrong word could have consequences, which is why he is careful to even share this knowledge in the first place. "The sources that I use aren't even from the dark side, but from anonymous yet unorthodox sources; said sources, in fact, don't even know I'm using them as a basis for my knowledge to share."
"Heeh, anonymous, is it? Well, try it on me then, what do you actually know about me?" Frenda asked, while her tone was steel and cautious, hands on her waist.
"Your name is Frenda Seivelun. You have a younger sister named Fremea Seivulun. You've got multiple connections throughout Academy City in your spare time, among them Saten Ruiko, a friend of Misaka Mikoto. You have this tendency to value your legs because of your pride as a woman." Azariah recited calmly yet humbly.
"Hold it, hold it, back up!" Frenda pointed at him with a glare that turned into heat, while Asia blinked at this entire exchange. "What's with that random trivia at the end? What kind of anonymous sources listed that as legit info?!"
Azariah sighed heavily. "If it means anything, even I wonder about that myself."
"That is not an answer!" Frenda exclaims, before she started accusing him. "Or wait... don't tell me you're some kind of leg pervert!" Her hands were covering her own legs in exaggeration, while there was a clear sign of a red blush on her cheeks.
"Admiring legs is perverted now?" Azariah was genuinely mindboggled at such a leap of logic. "It's as part of yourself as any other part of your body, and all of it makes up who you are. So why is that even perverted?"
"Tha..." Frenda couldn't even believe what she was just hearing right now, while her blush was luminous and twitching.
...Who the hell is this punk?!
Chapter 8 - Loop 2 - A Certain Magical Index
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It was one long trip. Surprisingly, in Azariah's case, nothing too bad had happened so far.
...Well, there was that part where Frenda managed to steal a grey car and hack it. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have condoned such an act. But this is a greyer situation. A Catholic lens isn't merely just white or black, there's greyish colors as well, which means there could be factors that provoke an act that, of itself, is sinful in nature, but on the other hand, one needs to look at the gravity and the intention behind the sin.
In a word, Catholic moral theology cannot be reduced to simply a binary good vs evil, and what's evil is evil. It doesn't quite work that way, especially when they're trying to evade Mugino Shizuri's wrath, hence, trying to preserve one's own life isn't sinful. This is less about the ends justify the means and more so of a question of what a person does to survive in a world that's essentially outright hostile to goodness itself, whether subtle or blatant.
That was Azariah's quiet dilemma as he was driving the stolen grey car. Quietly within his mind, he made an Act of Contrition, genuinely repented, mindful that the LORD, Mama Mary, and the Nine Choirs of Angels were present and still watching. Frenda had helped herself to be seated on the left side of the car, looking a little too tense yet somewhat relaxed. That's a good balance. They weren't out of the frying pan just yet.
Asia was seated in the back, quietly reading his pocket Bible with a focus intent. Her lips were twitching. Her eyes were looking at the very words like they were something new. Because it was new. It was something she never knew. She looked at every word, tried to absorb it, and it felt like a gentler correction of everything she knew; more painfully proving how much of her Christianity was a shadow compared to Azariah's Christianity.
Frenda glanced from the back and noticed Asia reading the Scriptures. She could tell from the title in the back of that pocket Bible. She twitched, rolling her eyes, muttering. "...Typical. Of course. You really are foreigners, considering Italian blondie in the back has some outdated book she's reading."
Azariah glanced a little to the side before focusing on the road. Instead of going on the defensive, even in fact trying to clarify that his pocket Bible was probably not like every Bible on this Earth, he said this.
"Depends I suppose what you mean by an outdated book. Science in this case has plenty of outdated information that can be replaced with new information, which then becomes outdated and replaced with new information, which then becomes outdated and replaced with new information, ad infinitum. Does that sound familiar?" He asked humbly.
And from Azariah's point of view, this also could describe the moral bankruptcy of Academy City in a nutshell. Just replace outdated science with outdated espers, and they get replaced with the new candidates. Mentality reflects the believers. And believers reflect that mentality with their actions. And actions can reflect how much value would be placed on all, including the believers.
Frenda looked at him with a glare, with arms crossed as she leaned on her chair. "Hmph. You're quite the smart ass. But fair point. Who am I to judge really? We're all basically numbers waiting to be slotted."
"Would that be your belief, or Academy City's belief?" Azariah asked.
"Does it really matter?" Frenda rolled her eyes.
"It matters to me, yes," Azariah said, as he turned his wheel towards another side of the road. "I don't go with the flow of everyone else and simply turn my brain off. I think, before I act, not act, before I think."
"Ohh, so you're the type of idiot that thinks his opinion would matter to the majority," Frenda couldn't help but turn haughty.
"No, I'm the idiot who thinks all opinions of all rational beings matter as the majority," Azariah explained humbly. "No one gets left out. Everyone is thought about."
"Yeah, well, that's not how reality works. Most get the prizes, some get the score, and one gets nothing. That's how it works," Frenda stated, sure of herself.
"But does it have to be? Would what works define reality? Or does reality itself show the works for what they really are and expose the illusion of self-control?" Azariah explained humbly.
Frenda narrowed her eyes at him, like watching a hawk encircling... she didn't even know what animal she could compare him to. He doesn't match anybody she could be familiar with. Frenda knew plenty of people. Low-lives. Scum. Typical righteous dumbasses. And lots more. But this punk? It's irritating. He's not surrendering to the logic. He's questioning. He's resisting. But it didn't seem like it. No aggression. No reaction. Just a calm, casual talk, as if this wasn't some philosophy class.
Azariah quietly drove the car towards the highway. He didn't really know where Tokiwadai was. It's one thing to know about the location that you've seen in anime; it's another thing entirely to find that location as if it were a real corner on the map. Fortunately, Frenda seems to know where Tokiwadai is, and Azariah followed her pointers to the letter.
He was still genuinely wondering how he was going to handle Tokiwadai once they got in. Asia and Frenda, at least, were more likely to slip in. Unless he has some kind of disguise and has a voice-changing bowtie, he's pretty much sticking out like a sore thumb. The only option was moving forward. He glanced at the back of the road and...
"...Hey, look at the back," Azariah muttered grimly.
Frenda muttered darkly. "Yeah, I see it."
There were around three dark blue vans that were right behind them. The sides had blue and white trimmed lines, with a very familiar symbol.
"...Anti-Skill?" Azariah asked Frenda while focusing on the road, while Asia, now aware, quietly closed the pocket Bible and held it tightly to her chest.
"If they are Anti-Skill, that is," Frenda spoke darkly. "That law enforcement organization is such a joke that most Dark Side orgs had infiltrated it like it was bread and butter."
"So probably Dark Side then," Azariah muttered grimly, a little concerned. He did not imagine himself to be a Fast and Furious protagonist, so he doesn't have confidence in his driving skills at all. He was practically a normie. Hamazura, he felt, was probably a little better at evasive driving than him. "So what's your suggestion, considering you probably know by experience how to deal with Dark Side members?"
"Simple," Frenda smirked dangerously, as she drew out something like a strange rocket-shaped device. "I fry them sky high."
Azariah sighed quietly. So be it then. He really hates it when he sees people die, but in circumstances like this, the only thing he could do was pray for the souls of everyone involved. "Let's just make sure at least it really is from the Dark Side and not actual law enforcement." He muttered grimly.
And then...
Shots fired. Azariah's reaction on the wheel was instantaneous, as he swerved the car over, as it dodged several bullets that came from an Anti-Skill wearing officer with SWAT gear, as he aimed his assault rifle with a red dot scope.
"You were saying?" Frenda's smile turns dangerous before opening the glass window and getting into position, while Asia quietly ducked for cover instinctively while clutching her pocket Bible.
Azariah narrowed his eyes while swerving through the highway. Why now of all times? And who and where exactly are these specific Dark Side members that wear Anti-Skill uniforms coming from? And how did they find them so easily? Nothing was a coincidence, especially not in Academy City. Which meant the following suspects. Could be from either SCHOOL or ITEM. It would make sense if, besides the main secret public faces of the teams, they'd have their own hidden strike teams.
He glanced as he saw Frenda firing one of her rockets, causing a chain reaction on one of the tires of the vans to cause a swerve that allowed it to be knocked overboard, crashing as it exploded, while the other two vans were swerving through the flames of the truck.
"Hmm, now this is my kind of fun," Frenda muttered with a smirk.
Azariah didn't comment, as he was still glancing around from left to right. If this were a Dark Side operation that was gunning for Frenda, something else must be coming besides these corrupt Anti-Skill officers. They were running out of time. They need to get to Tokiwadai, fast. Public roads are obviously not gonna be safer from now on. He would need to think of other places to either drive through or discard the car entirely. But then, that's also probably something that could have been planned. A false sense of catching prey unawares, thinking ditching cars to be a safe option when it turns out, they'd be walking right into a trap, and there would be nowhere to run.
Azariah put his feet to the metal of the brakes, and quietly both stepped on it and offered his actions to the Kingly Sacred Heart that defied all evil.
...Well, there was that part where Frenda managed to steal a grey car and hack it. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have condoned such an act. But this is a greyer situation. A Catholic lens isn't merely just white or black, there's greyish colors as well, which means there could be factors that provoke an act that, of itself, is sinful in nature, but on the other hand, one needs to look at the gravity and the intention behind the sin.
In a word, Catholic moral theology cannot be reduced to simply a binary good vs evil, and what's evil is evil. It doesn't quite work that way, especially when they're trying to evade Mugino Shizuri's wrath, hence, trying to preserve one's own life isn't sinful. This is less about the ends justify the means and more so of a question of what a person does to survive in a world that's essentially outright hostile to goodness itself, whether subtle or blatant.
That was Azariah's quiet dilemma as he was driving the stolen grey car. Quietly within his mind, he made an Act of Contrition, genuinely repented, mindful that the LORD, Mama Mary, and the Nine Choirs of Angels were present and still watching. Frenda had helped herself to be seated on the left side of the car, looking a little too tense yet somewhat relaxed. That's a good balance. They weren't out of the frying pan just yet.
Asia was seated in the back, quietly reading his pocket Bible with a focus intent. Her lips were twitching. Her eyes were looking at the very words like they were something new. Because it was new. It was something she never knew. She looked at every word, tried to absorb it, and it felt like a gentler correction of everything she knew; more painfully proving how much of her Christianity was a shadow compared to Azariah's Christianity.
Frenda glanced from the back and noticed Asia reading the Scriptures. She could tell from the title in the back of that pocket Bible. She twitched, rolling her eyes, muttering. "...Typical. Of course. You really are foreigners, considering Italian blondie in the back has some outdated book she's reading."
Azariah glanced a little to the side before focusing on the road. Instead of going on the defensive, even in fact trying to clarify that his pocket Bible was probably not like every Bible on this Earth, he said this.
"Depends I suppose what you mean by an outdated book. Science in this case has plenty of outdated information that can be replaced with new information, which then becomes outdated and replaced with new information, which then becomes outdated and replaced with new information, ad infinitum. Does that sound familiar?" He asked humbly.
And from Azariah's point of view, this also could describe the moral bankruptcy of Academy City in a nutshell. Just replace outdated science with outdated espers, and they get replaced with the new candidates. Mentality reflects the believers. And believers reflect that mentality with their actions. And actions can reflect how much value would be placed on all, including the believers.
Frenda looked at him with a glare, with arms crossed as she leaned on her chair. "Hmph. You're quite the smart ass. But fair point. Who am I to judge really? We're all basically numbers waiting to be slotted."
"Would that be your belief, or Academy City's belief?" Azariah asked.
"Does it really matter?" Frenda rolled her eyes.
"It matters to me, yes," Azariah said, as he turned his wheel towards another side of the road. "I don't go with the flow of everyone else and simply turn my brain off. I think, before I act, not act, before I think."
"Ohh, so you're the type of idiot that thinks his opinion would matter to the majority," Frenda couldn't help but turn haughty.
"No, I'm the idiot who thinks all opinions of all rational beings matter as the majority," Azariah explained humbly. "No one gets left out. Everyone is thought about."
"Yeah, well, that's not how reality works. Most get the prizes, some get the score, and one gets nothing. That's how it works," Frenda stated, sure of herself.
"But does it have to be? Would what works define reality? Or does reality itself show the works for what they really are and expose the illusion of self-control?" Azariah explained humbly.
Frenda narrowed her eyes at him, like watching a hawk encircling... she didn't even know what animal she could compare him to. He doesn't match anybody she could be familiar with. Frenda knew plenty of people. Low-lives. Scum. Typical righteous dumbasses. And lots more. But this punk? It's irritating. He's not surrendering to the logic. He's questioning. He's resisting. But it didn't seem like it. No aggression. No reaction. Just a calm, casual talk, as if this wasn't some philosophy class.
Azariah quietly drove the car towards the highway. He didn't really know where Tokiwadai was. It's one thing to know about the location that you've seen in anime; it's another thing entirely to find that location as if it were a real corner on the map. Fortunately, Frenda seems to know where Tokiwadai is, and Azariah followed her pointers to the letter.
He was still genuinely wondering how he was going to handle Tokiwadai once they got in. Asia and Frenda, at least, were more likely to slip in. Unless he has some kind of disguise and has a voice-changing bowtie, he's pretty much sticking out like a sore thumb. The only option was moving forward. He glanced at the back of the road and...
"...Hey, look at the back," Azariah muttered grimly.
Frenda muttered darkly. "Yeah, I see it."
There were around three dark blue vans that were right behind them. The sides had blue and white trimmed lines, with a very familiar symbol.
"...Anti-Skill?" Azariah asked Frenda while focusing on the road, while Asia, now aware, quietly closed the pocket Bible and held it tightly to her chest.
"If they are Anti-Skill, that is," Frenda spoke darkly. "That law enforcement organization is such a joke that most Dark Side orgs had infiltrated it like it was bread and butter."
"So probably Dark Side then," Azariah muttered grimly, a little concerned. He did not imagine himself to be a Fast and Furious protagonist, so he doesn't have confidence in his driving skills at all. He was practically a normie. Hamazura, he felt, was probably a little better at evasive driving than him. "So what's your suggestion, considering you probably know by experience how to deal with Dark Side members?"
"Simple," Frenda smirked dangerously, as she drew out something like a strange rocket-shaped device. "I fry them sky high."
Azariah sighed quietly. So be it then. He really hates it when he sees people die, but in circumstances like this, the only thing he could do was pray for the souls of everyone involved. "Let's just make sure at least it really is from the Dark Side and not actual law enforcement." He muttered grimly.
And then...
Shots fired. Azariah's reaction on the wheel was instantaneous, as he swerved the car over, as it dodged several bullets that came from an Anti-Skill wearing officer with SWAT gear, as he aimed his assault rifle with a red dot scope.
"You were saying?" Frenda's smile turns dangerous before opening the glass window and getting into position, while Asia quietly ducked for cover instinctively while clutching her pocket Bible.
Azariah narrowed his eyes while swerving through the highway. Why now of all times? And who and where exactly are these specific Dark Side members that wear Anti-Skill uniforms coming from? And how did they find them so easily? Nothing was a coincidence, especially not in Academy City. Which meant the following suspects. Could be from either SCHOOL or ITEM. It would make sense if, besides the main secret public faces of the teams, they'd have their own hidden strike teams.
He glanced as he saw Frenda firing one of her rockets, causing a chain reaction on one of the tires of the vans to cause a swerve that allowed it to be knocked overboard, crashing as it exploded, while the other two vans were swerving through the flames of the truck.
"Hmm, now this is my kind of fun," Frenda muttered with a smirk.
Azariah didn't comment, as he was still glancing around from left to right. If this were a Dark Side operation that was gunning for Frenda, something else must be coming besides these corrupt Anti-Skill officers. They were running out of time. They need to get to Tokiwadai, fast. Public roads are obviously not gonna be safer from now on. He would need to think of other places to either drive through or discard the car entirely. But then, that's also probably something that could have been planned. A false sense of catching prey unawares, thinking ditching cars to be a safe option when it turns out, they'd be walking right into a trap, and there would be nowhere to run.
Azariah put his feet to the metal of the brakes, and quietly both stepped on it and offered his actions to the Kingly Sacred Heart that defied all evil.
Chapter 9 (1) - Loop 2 - A Certain Magical Index
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...Moments later, multiple dark blue vans quietly encircled the now stopped grey car that was parked somewhere inside the School Garden section of District 7. Anti-Skill Officers, or rather, corrupt mercenaries from a dark side organization called S.W.A.T., were tasked to hunt down Frenda Seivulun and terminate her for betraying her contact with ITEM. That was the plan. They were paid to eliminate traitorous members as part of swift justice. Thus, they came out of their vans and with rifles in hand, started to head over to the vehicle and aim at the targets, shoot to kill.
By the time some of them looked into the windows of the car, there was no person present in the area.
The men narrowed their eyes. One of them opened the car before noticing something. A beeping sound. With each beeping of three, the men widened their eyes. By the time one of them tried to shout that a bomb had been implanted, it was already too late.
An explosion occurred, causing more than ten armed men to die from the flames, screaming in agony, while the rest were sent flying from the blast radius. Some of the vans were caught in the explosion as its metal shrapnel burned like smog.
It took a very long while for Azariah to evade and swerve through the streets, but he finally at least managed to stop the car in a specific spot just somewhere near the entrance of School Garden, one that had all of those familiar Western architectural craft and streets that he once saw in an anime format when watching A Certain Magical Index and its spin-offs. He knew that he couldn't use the car forever. Frenda, of course, proposed the idea. If they wanted the car, they'd get it.
Before they left, Frenda had left a special gift, as it were. By the time more of these vans showed up, more of those corrupt Anti-Skill officers were pouring out from the vans' doors and gathered near the abandoned car. Unfortunately for them, the car exploded, causing a few to be caught in the blast radius. That's definitely going to draw too much attention, but that was the idea anyway. Drawing too much attention would decrease the likelihood of Dark Side operatives trying to take advantage of their situation.
In other words, this was one of the few rare times when going too loud was the only sensible option for survival.
While the smoke rose from the heights, Azariah, Frenda Seivelun, and Asia Argento ran through the alleyways as far away as they could. Asia could at least manage to keep up with them, her shoulder bag and blonde hair swaying from her movements. They ran pass from alleyway to alleyway until finally, they stopped and managed to spot a clear, wide architectural structure from the front side, which had a gate of sorts made of metal bars.
Azariah would recognize it on sight, though again, anime didn't do justice to the place.
Tokiwadai Middle School.
They were finally here. But now what?
Azariah personally had no idea what to do next. The gate was right there, but considering what had happened recently, for all he knew, they were caught on camera, so it was even riskier to go inside Tokiwadai, because the moment they did, they would get arrested. And Azariah had some reservations personally on trusting the law enforcement organizations of this city, with good reason, and Frenda said it herself. One of them, Anti-Skill, was compromised. This made sense for Azariah, who had seen spin-offs like A Certain Scientific Accelerator that clearly showed and implied that Anti-Skill's forces were not as clean as they appeared on the surface.
"...Hmm, if we go in, we may get arrested, but if we don't go in, we'd risk getting shot by Meltdowner or by whoever dark side member comes in to nab us, decisions, decisions," Azariah spoke grimly, as he peered from the gate.
"All be told..." Frenda would say, raising her hands high while carrying a humorous smile. Azariah glanced at her smile, but somehow, he could tell that this smile held an edge to it. One that should not be poked, because it was clearly trying to cover its insecurity. Not that Azariah could blame Frenda for it. She was practically on extrajudicial death row. "I'm kinda surprised we even made it this far. Who knew that you were such a good driver, Mr. Leg Pervert?"
Azariah, instead of typical denial, responded calmly. "I got my driver's license last year ago, back when I was eighteen. I wouldn't really say I'm a good driver, just a common-sense one at best. So, do you have any ideas on how we can actually get inside without tipping someone off?"
"Well, we could just borrow a couple of clothes here and there. I'd know a place where we can find one," Frenda explained with a smirk. "You, on the other hand, you'd stick like a sore thumb, so we'd probably have to get a few clothes that would fit you too. You look like you're around seven feet tall or something." She said, while eyeing Azariah.
Now that she looked at him a lot more closely, he didn't look half-bad. He clearly had a handsome face that would probably get the Tokiwadai girls to go gaga on him. He looked young, probably around her age or a little above, and she was in her third year of high school.
Azariah explained humbly. "Well, I did have a discipline regimen as per my schedule. Disciplining the body is just as important as discipling the soul."
"Hmm... you don't say," Frenda mused with her smirk, placing her right hand to her face; her intentions were unknown as far as Azariah knew because he couldn't really read minds.
Asia glanced back and forth, unaware of the subtle tension. "Umm... where exactly would we get these clothes?"
"Oh, like I said, blondie, I know a place," Frenda muttered with a smirk, her eyes never leaving Azariah.
That place that Frenda had spoken of was a lot nearer to Tokiwadai Middle School than Azariah thought. Apparently, ever since Mugino's encounter with Misaka back during the Sisters Arc, as it turns out, Mugino had been trying to keep tabs on what Misaka is actually doing every now and then. That was never mentioned in the light novels or the spin-offs. Yet another reason why Azariah couldn't just rely on canon. That minor detail opened a vast number of implications. It meant that Mugino wasn't stupid. Azariah suspected as much. She was aggressively competitive, no doubt about that, but you don't get to be a Level 5 involved in the Dark Side and not have something of a leverage against your fellow Level 5s.
There was an underground safehouse that Frenda had made, per her orders to keep tabs on Misaka. Mugino herself didn't actually know where this safehouse was, so she and they were safe. For now. There were a bunch of Tokiwadai Middle School uniforms that were hung all over the racks. Frenda, at some point, according to her explanation, has a secret connection with one of the people who made these uniforms, so it was quite easier to obtain these without doing anything shady for once.
Asia manages to fit the Tokiwadai impression. A foreign Italian blonde with a mysterious background, along with her trusty shoulder bag. She discarded her nun clothing quite willingly and wore her new clothes. Azariah had wondered about that. Whatever happened to Asia, and it clearly had something to do with the Most High, it clearly had an impact on her. It brought him to actually think about why Asia was sent along with him. Was it because of how this isekai system works? Possibly. If that's the case, then if Azariah were ever to hop into a world, he'd bring the first person he'd meet. First was Asia. Now, Frenda possibly. But he can't be actually sure. He still has no idea how this isekai system really works.
As for Azariah, what was he wearing? Well, he was wearing a janitor's outfit. Simple. With a seemingly valid ID on him that he could attach to the left chest pocket. Raito Suzuki. At least he can use another meaningful alias besides Azariah. Azariah, as a name, on some level, basically stands out a bit too much, so there may come a point where he'd probably have to need the name Raito Suzuki in case he needed to go more incognito and blend in with the Japanese environment.
So far, Azariah has been through anime worlds. But of course, he'd be self-aware enough to know that it can't be that simple. Just because he's travelling through one genre doesn't mean he can't travel through another.
There was a vehicle within the safehouse. A truck of sorts. Something that the janitors of Tokiwadai would commonly use when heading inside. Azariah would start the truck and drive a few meters away towards the entrance of Tokiwadai. Frenda and Asia hopped out first and headed towards the entrance. Frenda was a little casual in her walk, while Asia was cautious like an eagle, looking at her surroundings with great care. By the time they head inside and wait for a few moments, Azariah would drive towards the entrance.
Of course, security was right there. A male security guard would look at the ID he flashed. He at least got the clearance as he drove inside while thanking the guard. Once he parked the truck, he eventually headed towards Frenda and Asia, and the three started to walk. Azariah maintained his distance, however, because it would look suspicious that a janitor would be hanging around with two Tokiwadai students.
His eyes looked around and saw various Tokiwadai students who were just leaving their classrooms and walking through the hallways and courtyards of the school. Azariah held his janitor cap on, covering his hair while walking with the cleaning supplies that he pushed from the cart.
Though even with all of the effort with his janitor disguise, he could still hear and see plenty of Tokiwadai students noticing him.
"Hm? Who's that? I've never seen a janitor like him before."
"Wait. Look at his face. He looks a little... dashing for a janitor."
"Are we really sure he's a janitor?"
Oh dear... If Azariah could see himself in an anime screen, he'd see his own sweatdrop animated. He glanced towards the side and saw Frenda from a few meters away, who was trying too hard not to laugh at how easily spotted Azariah was, despite all the effort it took to blend in. On the other hand, maybe this could be a good thing to get Frenda's understandable suspicions off of him, but he wouldn't hold his breath; there's probably a lot more effort to go before her walls of mistrust get removed.
Asia, who was near Frenda, instead of laughing, gave him a comforting smile. Not the innocent, naive kind that he'd see in the High School DxD anime. No. There was something different about her smile this time. It made Robert almost stop moving. He didn't know why... but it felt like Someone was staring back at him, through Asia's face. It made him too self-conscious and still recalled that Asia had seen the Most High. He bowed quietly. He didn't see any vision or receive any special revelation, but that simple comforting smile from a girl who saw the Most High was more than enough for him.
That was the clear dividing difference.
Laudetur Iesus Christus. He thought quietly, as he mentally bowed to Mercy, who became Humanity.
Then, he would glance around the corner and... his eyes slightly widened.
There, just around a corner, there she was.
Misaki Shokuhou.
Blonde hair. White gloves. A handbag was wrapped around her person. Anime did not do absolute justice to this woman's appearance. Now he understood why, in A Certain Magical Index, Misaka oftentimes accuses Shokuhou and questions her status as a middle school student. She was quite beautiful, looking like a mature young lady on the surface, with those sparkling, starry eyes that complemented her poise. Her chest was maturely developed, more so than most of the middle school students here in the school. Just by looking at this angle, Azariah felt like he was looking at a foreign princess, if not for her clearly Asian face. Calling her the Queen of Tokiwadai felt... just right.
Just right near her, there was Junko Hokaze. Her long lavender ringlet curled hair was recognizable to Azariah. Her chest was just as large as Shokuhou's, though less obvious somehow and more modest. Azariah couldn't help but compare Junko to a shadow, which... oddly made sense. Junko does act oftentimes as Shokuhou's right-hand woman for more physical endeavors, as Shokuhou herself is... quite bad at physical education. This was one of those quirky moments where Azariah hoped was inaccurate, if only because he genuinely did feel bad for Shokuhou's bad physicals.
They didn't notice him. Yet.
He turned towards Frenda and Asia and quietly raised his hand to gesture subtly where Shokuhou and Hokaze were. Frenda now got a little tense and serious, as she sees Shokuhou and Junko just walking around the corner.
"...Ara?" muttered Shokuhou as she now noticed Azariah. Her starry eyes were locked in. It made Azariah pay close attention.
When it comes to someone like Shokuhou, it would probably be wise not to provoke someone who could edit your own memory like it's editing data from your computer. Not that Azariah would provoke her, of course, he would never do that.
"Hmm? What is it, Queen?" Junko asked, now noticing Shokuhou staring at someone.
"...Ne, Junko," Shokuhou muttered carefully, while her hand was right near her bag of remotes. "...Do you recognize that janitor?"
"Hmm?" Junko looked at Azariah again with a curious frown. "...No, my Queen, I never saw him before. Do you think he's a new janitor assigned to Tokiwadai?"
"Maybe..." Shokuhou muttered while quietly smiling subtly.
...Huh, so this was what it felt like to be stared at by Misaki Shokuhou and assessed thoroughly. This felt like that situation with Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri all over again. He hoped at least that Shokuhou wouldn't peg him as a threat, though she's probably smart enough to see through him because of her mastery of human psychology, especially from personal experience, since Shokuhou is the type to have seen almost every person here in the city, even the lowest of the low. Though, since this is Shokuhou, he's gonna have to prepare himself for when she'd use her powers on him. As much as he'd rather not get his mind entered, he's going to have to surrender to Shokuhou's control and trust in the LORD that all would go well from here.
Shokuhou has... trust issues. Understandable, since this is Academy City, where one wrong choice ends up with you being in a body bag at best, or at worst, getting your ashes scattered with no one finding your corpse, and no one would remember you. Underneath this progressive city lay too many corpses. He had wondered.
As far as he knew, he was literally the only Catholic Christian here. No, he wouldn't really count this world's Roman Catholic Church, since, similar to High School DxD's Roman Catholic Church, this church also had a monopoly on magic systems. In fact, the prayers of the faithful of this Earth were clearly weaponized to power up certain magic spells, like Volume 14 that dealt with a mystical artifact called the Document of Constantine that explicitly detailed its power to make whatever the Pope says an absolute truth, one that Touma probably destroyed at some point by this time, which meant this Church never had papal infallibility as real dogma. In fact, if Pastor Aeternus, the document of the First Vatican Council, which clearly defined the dogma of papal infallibility, still existed here, it would be different in its meaning altogether, even if the words remained the same, in reference to the Document of Constantine's existence, and possibly some other mystical artifacts.
The problem with taking one dogma out of the equation? You take them all out. If one dogma is invalid, then all other dogmas would be invalid because all of them are interconnected and can't be changed by anyone. A house divided against itself cannot stand. The same applies to the rule of faith. Take one brick out, and the house would fall down like a stack of cards when a typhoon shows up.
That ultimately meant that there were no Holy Masses celebrated here for all of the departed. And then, there comes the question of what this world's afterlife truthfully was. Was it merely a phase among countless others? Was it a realm above phases? A Certain Magical Index had never really clearly answered this question, even when souls were being dealt with, often from both the magic side and science side types of stories, and even both sides in-universe barely could understand what a soul even is and had numerous theories about them in relation to what individual from either the magic side or the science side adheres to - whether in a specific magical school of thought or a specific scientific branch. That meant that this world never had its developed Christian thinkers on the soul, which was found in various writings from the patristics, scholastics, and the doctors of the church.
Nevertheless... Azariah has context even for this unknown mystery. Why? Because of the Descent into Hell, which was proclaimed by the Apostles' Creed. This was part of it. Realms of the dead that remain even a mystery for the people of GOD. And thus, he quietly resolved to pray for all souls who had died here, or would die here, offering everything for Love, and let Love be GOD.
He breathes a quiet sigh, quietly praying to the LORD that His Will be done, before taking the first step. And another step. And another step. He could see Shokuhou analyzing him with each step. But he lets Shokuhou be the judge of him, while he walks towards his purpose. He has already resolved to help Frenda escape the fate that canon imposed upon her, and he will do so, even if it means surrendering his will completely and letting his mind be seen.
Frenda and Asia looked at him. Frenda was looking like she was looking at an idiot and wondering what he was doing, while Asia held her hands together, quietly tugging as gently as she could feel it deep within her soul.
Papa... Asia muttered inwardly, her lips quiverred, her eyes recognizing the Most High, as invisible, gentler winds felt by nobody, but only Asia, blew across the courtyard. The leaves of the trees nearby did not blow from these winds, which was impossible if these were natural causes made from atmospheric circulation. Neither was it felt by the rest of the Tokiwadai middle school students, who noticed only that the new janitor was drawing near to the Queen of Tokiwadai and were gossiping about it.
Azariah stepped through the lighter stairs and walked to the right, where Shokuhou and Hokaze were.
Hokaze eyed the young man with a tilting curiosity. "Queen... I think he's coming closer..."
"Yes, but why?" Shokuhou muttered, her eyes never losing sight of him.
Azariah quietly stopped, being near yet maintaining respectful distance. He looked at the blonde-haired woman. "...Shokuhou Misaki?"
"...Yes?" Shokuhou, with her normal smile, was plastered onto her face; he could feel the cold yet analytical gaze underneath.
"...My name is Azariah," he introduced himself, before lowering himself and bowing. His head was on the ground, his posture grovelled as his hands were placed on the ground.
Shokuhou widened her eyes at this sudden grovelling posture. Hokaze also widened her eyes at this gesture. The rest of the students of Tokiwadai also stopped their gossip as they looked at the new janitor with widened eyes.
"...Please, I need your help," Azariah muttered softly yet clearly.
Frenda... couldn't say a word. What... What the hell...? Her mouth was in pure disbelief.
Asia covered her mouth again, as her heart quaked, being the only one who was truthfully aware of the significance of this gesture. This was no mere grovelling. This was... like that time, with the Washing of the Feet, one that moved beyond just mere ritual cleansing.
"If, therefore, I the LORD and Master have washed your feet, you also ought to wash the feet of one another. For I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so you should also do."
Japan's old custom. Dogeza. To grovel when faced with one's superior. It was a subtle foreshadowing. Because the LORD had grovelled and descended down first, long before the Rising Sun even knew His Name.
For what felt like the first time in her life, Asia was learning something new. Comparing it to her knowledge of Christianity in her world, it was too limited. She came from a Christianity that took too much emphasis on morality. Yes, morals are important, but without the foundation of why the practice of virtue was truly important, Christianity would be reduced to a religion that only taught of having a good moral life, when it was so much more, that every action that resists sin and death was a battlefield of souls.
For the Judeo-Christian GOD is YHWH Sabaoth, He was the LORD whose gentle descending wrath declared Total War against the foundations of war itself, which was sin and death, to bring the captives home. Every action of every individual, big or small, mattered. Everything Asia does matters. For the miracles of the LORD are seen unnoticed daily in the actions of those who do their best to resist evil by performing goodness, no matter who they are.
By the time some of them looked into the windows of the car, there was no person present in the area.
The men narrowed their eyes. One of them opened the car before noticing something. A beeping sound. With each beeping of three, the men widened their eyes. By the time one of them tried to shout that a bomb had been implanted, it was already too late.
An explosion occurred, causing more than ten armed men to die from the flames, screaming in agony, while the rest were sent flying from the blast radius. Some of the vans were caught in the explosion as its metal shrapnel burned like smog.
It took a very long while for Azariah to evade and swerve through the streets, but he finally at least managed to stop the car in a specific spot just somewhere near the entrance of School Garden, one that had all of those familiar Western architectural craft and streets that he once saw in an anime format when watching A Certain Magical Index and its spin-offs. He knew that he couldn't use the car forever. Frenda, of course, proposed the idea. If they wanted the car, they'd get it.
Before they left, Frenda had left a special gift, as it were. By the time more of these vans showed up, more of those corrupt Anti-Skill officers were pouring out from the vans' doors and gathered near the abandoned car. Unfortunately for them, the car exploded, causing a few to be caught in the blast radius. That's definitely going to draw too much attention, but that was the idea anyway. Drawing too much attention would decrease the likelihood of Dark Side operatives trying to take advantage of their situation.
In other words, this was one of the few rare times when going too loud was the only sensible option for survival.
While the smoke rose from the heights, Azariah, Frenda Seivelun, and Asia Argento ran through the alleyways as far away as they could. Asia could at least manage to keep up with them, her shoulder bag and blonde hair swaying from her movements. They ran pass from alleyway to alleyway until finally, they stopped and managed to spot a clear, wide architectural structure from the front side, which had a gate of sorts made of metal bars.
Azariah would recognize it on sight, though again, anime didn't do justice to the place.
Tokiwadai Middle School.
They were finally here. But now what?
Azariah personally had no idea what to do next. The gate was right there, but considering what had happened recently, for all he knew, they were caught on camera, so it was even riskier to go inside Tokiwadai, because the moment they did, they would get arrested. And Azariah had some reservations personally on trusting the law enforcement organizations of this city, with good reason, and Frenda said it herself. One of them, Anti-Skill, was compromised. This made sense for Azariah, who had seen spin-offs like A Certain Scientific Accelerator that clearly showed and implied that Anti-Skill's forces were not as clean as they appeared on the surface.
"...Hmm, if we go in, we may get arrested, but if we don't go in, we'd risk getting shot by Meltdowner or by whoever dark side member comes in to nab us, decisions, decisions," Azariah spoke grimly, as he peered from the gate.
"All be told..." Frenda would say, raising her hands high while carrying a humorous smile. Azariah glanced at her smile, but somehow, he could tell that this smile held an edge to it. One that should not be poked, because it was clearly trying to cover its insecurity. Not that Azariah could blame Frenda for it. She was practically on extrajudicial death row. "I'm kinda surprised we even made it this far. Who knew that you were such a good driver, Mr. Leg Pervert?"
Azariah, instead of typical denial, responded calmly. "I got my driver's license last year ago, back when I was eighteen. I wouldn't really say I'm a good driver, just a common-sense one at best. So, do you have any ideas on how we can actually get inside without tipping someone off?"
"Well, we could just borrow a couple of clothes here and there. I'd know a place where we can find one," Frenda explained with a smirk. "You, on the other hand, you'd stick like a sore thumb, so we'd probably have to get a few clothes that would fit you too. You look like you're around seven feet tall or something." She said, while eyeing Azariah.
Now that she looked at him a lot more closely, he didn't look half-bad. He clearly had a handsome face that would probably get the Tokiwadai girls to go gaga on him. He looked young, probably around her age or a little above, and she was in her third year of high school.
Azariah explained humbly. "Well, I did have a discipline regimen as per my schedule. Disciplining the body is just as important as discipling the soul."
"Hmm... you don't say," Frenda mused with her smirk, placing her right hand to her face; her intentions were unknown as far as Azariah knew because he couldn't really read minds.
Asia glanced back and forth, unaware of the subtle tension. "Umm... where exactly would we get these clothes?"
"Oh, like I said, blondie, I know a place," Frenda muttered with a smirk, her eyes never leaving Azariah.
That place that Frenda had spoken of was a lot nearer to Tokiwadai Middle School than Azariah thought. Apparently, ever since Mugino's encounter with Misaka back during the Sisters Arc, as it turns out, Mugino had been trying to keep tabs on what Misaka is actually doing every now and then. That was never mentioned in the light novels or the spin-offs. Yet another reason why Azariah couldn't just rely on canon. That minor detail opened a vast number of implications. It meant that Mugino wasn't stupid. Azariah suspected as much. She was aggressively competitive, no doubt about that, but you don't get to be a Level 5 involved in the Dark Side and not have something of a leverage against your fellow Level 5s.
There was an underground safehouse that Frenda had made, per her orders to keep tabs on Misaka. Mugino herself didn't actually know where this safehouse was, so she and they were safe. For now. There were a bunch of Tokiwadai Middle School uniforms that were hung all over the racks. Frenda, at some point, according to her explanation, has a secret connection with one of the people who made these uniforms, so it was quite easier to obtain these without doing anything shady for once.
Asia manages to fit the Tokiwadai impression. A foreign Italian blonde with a mysterious background, along with her trusty shoulder bag. She discarded her nun clothing quite willingly and wore her new clothes. Azariah had wondered about that. Whatever happened to Asia, and it clearly had something to do with the Most High, it clearly had an impact on her. It brought him to actually think about why Asia was sent along with him. Was it because of how this isekai system works? Possibly. If that's the case, then if Azariah were ever to hop into a world, he'd bring the first person he'd meet. First was Asia. Now, Frenda possibly. But he can't be actually sure. He still has no idea how this isekai system really works.
As for Azariah, what was he wearing? Well, he was wearing a janitor's outfit. Simple. With a seemingly valid ID on him that he could attach to the left chest pocket. Raito Suzuki. At least he can use another meaningful alias besides Azariah. Azariah, as a name, on some level, basically stands out a bit too much, so there may come a point where he'd probably have to need the name Raito Suzuki in case he needed to go more incognito and blend in with the Japanese environment.
So far, Azariah has been through anime worlds. But of course, he'd be self-aware enough to know that it can't be that simple. Just because he's travelling through one genre doesn't mean he can't travel through another.
There was a vehicle within the safehouse. A truck of sorts. Something that the janitors of Tokiwadai would commonly use when heading inside. Azariah would start the truck and drive a few meters away towards the entrance of Tokiwadai. Frenda and Asia hopped out first and headed towards the entrance. Frenda was a little casual in her walk, while Asia was cautious like an eagle, looking at her surroundings with great care. By the time they head inside and wait for a few moments, Azariah would drive towards the entrance.
Of course, security was right there. A male security guard would look at the ID he flashed. He at least got the clearance as he drove inside while thanking the guard. Once he parked the truck, he eventually headed towards Frenda and Asia, and the three started to walk. Azariah maintained his distance, however, because it would look suspicious that a janitor would be hanging around with two Tokiwadai students.
His eyes looked around and saw various Tokiwadai students who were just leaving their classrooms and walking through the hallways and courtyards of the school. Azariah held his janitor cap on, covering his hair while walking with the cleaning supplies that he pushed from the cart.
Though even with all of the effort with his janitor disguise, he could still hear and see plenty of Tokiwadai students noticing him.
"Hm? Who's that? I've never seen a janitor like him before."
"Wait. Look at his face. He looks a little... dashing for a janitor."
"Are we really sure he's a janitor?"
Oh dear... If Azariah could see himself in an anime screen, he'd see his own sweatdrop animated. He glanced towards the side and saw Frenda from a few meters away, who was trying too hard not to laugh at how easily spotted Azariah was, despite all the effort it took to blend in. On the other hand, maybe this could be a good thing to get Frenda's understandable suspicions off of him, but he wouldn't hold his breath; there's probably a lot more effort to go before her walls of mistrust get removed.
Asia, who was near Frenda, instead of laughing, gave him a comforting smile. Not the innocent, naive kind that he'd see in the High School DxD anime. No. There was something different about her smile this time. It made Robert almost stop moving. He didn't know why... but it felt like Someone was staring back at him, through Asia's face. It made him too self-conscious and still recalled that Asia had seen the Most High. He bowed quietly. He didn't see any vision or receive any special revelation, but that simple comforting smile from a girl who saw the Most High was more than enough for him.
That was the clear dividing difference.
Laudetur Iesus Christus. He thought quietly, as he mentally bowed to Mercy, who became Humanity.
Then, he would glance around the corner and... his eyes slightly widened.
There, just around a corner, there she was.
Misaki Shokuhou.
Blonde hair. White gloves. A handbag was wrapped around her person. Anime did not do absolute justice to this woman's appearance. Now he understood why, in A Certain Magical Index, Misaka oftentimes accuses Shokuhou and questions her status as a middle school student. She was quite beautiful, looking like a mature young lady on the surface, with those sparkling, starry eyes that complemented her poise. Her chest was maturely developed, more so than most of the middle school students here in the school. Just by looking at this angle, Azariah felt like he was looking at a foreign princess, if not for her clearly Asian face. Calling her the Queen of Tokiwadai felt... just right.
Just right near her, there was Junko Hokaze. Her long lavender ringlet curled hair was recognizable to Azariah. Her chest was just as large as Shokuhou's, though less obvious somehow and more modest. Azariah couldn't help but compare Junko to a shadow, which... oddly made sense. Junko does act oftentimes as Shokuhou's right-hand woman for more physical endeavors, as Shokuhou herself is... quite bad at physical education. This was one of those quirky moments where Azariah hoped was inaccurate, if only because he genuinely did feel bad for Shokuhou's bad physicals.
They didn't notice him. Yet.
He turned towards Frenda and Asia and quietly raised his hand to gesture subtly where Shokuhou and Hokaze were. Frenda now got a little tense and serious, as she sees Shokuhou and Junko just walking around the corner.
"...Ara?" muttered Shokuhou as she now noticed Azariah. Her starry eyes were locked in. It made Azariah pay close attention.
When it comes to someone like Shokuhou, it would probably be wise not to provoke someone who could edit your own memory like it's editing data from your computer. Not that Azariah would provoke her, of course, he would never do that.
"Hmm? What is it, Queen?" Junko asked, now noticing Shokuhou staring at someone.
"...Ne, Junko," Shokuhou muttered carefully, while her hand was right near her bag of remotes. "...Do you recognize that janitor?"
"Hmm?" Junko looked at Azariah again with a curious frown. "...No, my Queen, I never saw him before. Do you think he's a new janitor assigned to Tokiwadai?"
"Maybe..." Shokuhou muttered while quietly smiling subtly.
...Huh, so this was what it felt like to be stared at by Misaki Shokuhou and assessed thoroughly. This felt like that situation with Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri all over again. He hoped at least that Shokuhou wouldn't peg him as a threat, though she's probably smart enough to see through him because of her mastery of human psychology, especially from personal experience, since Shokuhou is the type to have seen almost every person here in the city, even the lowest of the low. Though, since this is Shokuhou, he's gonna have to prepare himself for when she'd use her powers on him. As much as he'd rather not get his mind entered, he's going to have to surrender to Shokuhou's control and trust in the LORD that all would go well from here.
Shokuhou has... trust issues. Understandable, since this is Academy City, where one wrong choice ends up with you being in a body bag at best, or at worst, getting your ashes scattered with no one finding your corpse, and no one would remember you. Underneath this progressive city lay too many corpses. He had wondered.
As far as he knew, he was literally the only Catholic Christian here. No, he wouldn't really count this world's Roman Catholic Church, since, similar to High School DxD's Roman Catholic Church, this church also had a monopoly on magic systems. In fact, the prayers of the faithful of this Earth were clearly weaponized to power up certain magic spells, like Volume 14 that dealt with a mystical artifact called the Document of Constantine that explicitly detailed its power to make whatever the Pope says an absolute truth, one that Touma probably destroyed at some point by this time, which meant this Church never had papal infallibility as real dogma. In fact, if Pastor Aeternus, the document of the First Vatican Council, which clearly defined the dogma of papal infallibility, still existed here, it would be different in its meaning altogether, even if the words remained the same, in reference to the Document of Constantine's existence, and possibly some other mystical artifacts.
The problem with taking one dogma out of the equation? You take them all out. If one dogma is invalid, then all other dogmas would be invalid because all of them are interconnected and can't be changed by anyone. A house divided against itself cannot stand. The same applies to the rule of faith. Take one brick out, and the house would fall down like a stack of cards when a typhoon shows up.
That ultimately meant that there were no Holy Masses celebrated here for all of the departed. And then, there comes the question of what this world's afterlife truthfully was. Was it merely a phase among countless others? Was it a realm above phases? A Certain Magical Index had never really clearly answered this question, even when souls were being dealt with, often from both the magic side and science side types of stories, and even both sides in-universe barely could understand what a soul even is and had numerous theories about them in relation to what individual from either the magic side or the science side adheres to - whether in a specific magical school of thought or a specific scientific branch. That meant that this world never had its developed Christian thinkers on the soul, which was found in various writings from the patristics, scholastics, and the doctors of the church.
Nevertheless... Azariah has context even for this unknown mystery. Why? Because of the Descent into Hell, which was proclaimed by the Apostles' Creed. This was part of it. Realms of the dead that remain even a mystery for the people of GOD. And thus, he quietly resolved to pray for all souls who had died here, or would die here, offering everything for Love, and let Love be GOD.
He breathes a quiet sigh, quietly praying to the LORD that His Will be done, before taking the first step. And another step. And another step. He could see Shokuhou analyzing him with each step. But he lets Shokuhou be the judge of him, while he walks towards his purpose. He has already resolved to help Frenda escape the fate that canon imposed upon her, and he will do so, even if it means surrendering his will completely and letting his mind be seen.
Frenda and Asia looked at him. Frenda was looking like she was looking at an idiot and wondering what he was doing, while Asia held her hands together, quietly tugging as gently as she could feel it deep within her soul.
Papa... Asia muttered inwardly, her lips quiverred, her eyes recognizing the Most High, as invisible, gentler winds felt by nobody, but only Asia, blew across the courtyard. The leaves of the trees nearby did not blow from these winds, which was impossible if these were natural causes made from atmospheric circulation. Neither was it felt by the rest of the Tokiwadai middle school students, who noticed only that the new janitor was drawing near to the Queen of Tokiwadai and were gossiping about it.
Azariah stepped through the lighter stairs and walked to the right, where Shokuhou and Hokaze were.
Hokaze eyed the young man with a tilting curiosity. "Queen... I think he's coming closer..."
"Yes, but why?" Shokuhou muttered, her eyes never losing sight of him.
Azariah quietly stopped, being near yet maintaining respectful distance. He looked at the blonde-haired woman. "...Shokuhou Misaki?"
"...Yes?" Shokuhou, with her normal smile, was plastered onto her face; he could feel the cold yet analytical gaze underneath.
"...My name is Azariah," he introduced himself, before lowering himself and bowing. His head was on the ground, his posture grovelled as his hands were placed on the ground.
Shokuhou widened her eyes at this sudden grovelling posture. Hokaze also widened her eyes at this gesture. The rest of the students of Tokiwadai also stopped their gossip as they looked at the new janitor with widened eyes.
"...Please, I need your help," Azariah muttered softly yet clearly.
Frenda... couldn't say a word. What... What the hell...? Her mouth was in pure disbelief.
Asia covered her mouth again, as her heart quaked, being the only one who was truthfully aware of the significance of this gesture. This was no mere grovelling. This was... like that time, with the Washing of the Feet, one that moved beyond just mere ritual cleansing.
"If, therefore, I the LORD and Master have washed your feet, you also ought to wash the feet of one another. For I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so you should also do."
Japan's old custom. Dogeza. To grovel when faced with one's superior. It was a subtle foreshadowing. Because the LORD had grovelled and descended down first, long before the Rising Sun even knew His Name.
For what felt like the first time in her life, Asia was learning something new. Comparing it to her knowledge of Christianity in her world, it was too limited. She came from a Christianity that took too much emphasis on morality. Yes, morals are important, but without the foundation of why the practice of virtue was truly important, Christianity would be reduced to a religion that only taught of having a good moral life, when it was so much more, that every action that resists sin and death was a battlefield of souls.
For the Judeo-Christian GOD is YHWH Sabaoth, He was the LORD whose gentle descending wrath declared Total War against the foundations of war itself, which was sin and death, to bring the captives home. Every action of every individual, big or small, mattered. Everything Asia does matters. For the miracles of the LORD are seen unnoticed daily in the actions of those who do their best to resist evil by performing goodness, no matter who they are.
Chapter 9 (2) - Point of View: Random Omnipotent Being (ROB)
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...Aqua Devida quietly slipped through the spaces in between the spaces. As a ROB, she had the power to traverse through endless stories. And yet, her power felt as though it was being challenged. She had to check the specific universe where Azariah comes from, tracing the source of this "anomaly" if you will, starting with how in all worlds she never saw or felt anything when Azariah invoked his GOD. It was too silent. That can't be right. Nothing is too silent. Even silence echoes something for her to notice, but for whatever reason, she could not even detect Azariah's GOD anywhere.
She had to find out the source. She started to slip through Azariah's universe. She looked around in between, cloaking herself invisibly. On the surface, it's not special. It was just like any other universe she sees. Humanity being the only ones who... live here...
...No wait.
She looked. She saw... something stranger.
For whatever reason, she bumped into something completely unexplainable.
She was around the gas giant planet of Jupiter, to be more precise.
But... looking around. Looking closer. Within this one planet's big ball of gas, she noticed the presence of these strange alien beings. They do not have a physical anthropomorphic or hominid form. They... The best approximate word she could describe these types of beings was aetherial. They were... so many that she couldn't even count them, or fit them into any sets of infinities. Their forms stretched into dimensions she could not even see. Impossible, she could see all dimensions, that's per her nature, so why can't she see these beings?
"...What am I looking at here?" She muttered carefully, widening her aqua eyes. She took the first hesitant step, and... many of these strange aetherials looked back.
"Greetings, child," says one aetherial, hovering in a dimensionless motion, with a tone that was vast yet gentle. He spoke her own language, descending to her level to communicate properly. Descending. It implied that this being was above her in every way. "Why have thou come a long way?"
Aqua looked at the being that addressed her. She felt intimidated. In normal circumstances, she'd correct those who say that she was a mere child, for she had seen the rise and fall of countless multiverses; she was older than the Big Bangs and the Entropic Ends. She had seen the iterations of Christian Gods come and go with no root. But... But she never once looked or felt intimidated her whole life.
She glanced and saw a multi-layered series of veils torn out, revealing something hidden from both the physical and the empirical. Countless more of these aetherial spirits were hovering, not just inside Jupiter, but outside Jupiter, and also lingered on its over one hundred moons, including especially the four precious moons of Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto. There were horizontal and vertical and crossroad directions beyond mere dimensional coordinates, where nests of these spirits appear.
Aqua looked back and forth. They were everywhere. No, even everywhere can't describe the scale of these beings.
"...What...What are you?" Aqua muttered, narrowed yet extremely cautious, taking a little step back.
The aetherial who had spoken to her, this taller, majestic being, stooping low, adopting a form that would allow some participative descent, spoke softly. "I am Minosian, Jovian High King in the name of Our All-Father Logos."
When she heard the word "Logos.", she felt her entire being was compelled to kneel and quake before the Authority behind that Name. Her mind suddenly flashed. Just one brief moment, she saw the Crucifix. It was a brief moment. But that very brief flash made her recoil and quake, as she took a little step back, which reverberated like a rippling pond.
A Crucifix, too bloody and terrible, yet whose eyes gently looked at her. Only a flash, before it was gone, her eyes now looking at the presence of these aetherial spirituals whose domain was the orbit of Jupiter and its moons. It felt more like a council of spirits, without end or limit, their gentler gazes looking at her, who felt too small.
"...Jovian?" she muttered carefully, shaking like a leaf.
Minosian gazes at her, and as if by a thought, comprehends immediately what disturbs her heart. "You wish to know, not only us, but alas, thou did not even know that thou had stepped into the domain of participation. We, spirits of the aerial planes, are but one stone among many within the bounds of aeviternity."
His gaze gently looks down towards Earth. Aqua followed his kingly gaze. It was directed at that tiny blue-greenish planet. Earth. That was where she plucked Azariah over. She looked at it again, and she saw that these familiar alternate timelines that she saw once when looking at this Earth, did not, in fact, become part of this Earth at all. What she thought was simply another Earth, was, in fact, a hidden, truer Earth, covered over layers within layers of subtlety.
Before, she thought it was merely another planet with its familiar tropes. Now, what she saw was in fact a mistaken perception, a layer of camouflage that hid the true nature of this planet. And what she saw was... nothing. That was the problem. She did not see anything familiar. Alternate timelines. Multiverses. All that she could deduce from tropes.
No... this was a Silent Planet.
She could truthfully not see the past and the future of this world. And looking beyond Earth, neither could she see the past and future of this vast expanse. Aqua felt like calling it the universe from her own tongue was too inaccurate. This was an Ancient Universe, whose diverse mysteries and sacraments were something she could not see.
Her heart quaked. What... What did she just discover? But the question itself was a deflection. She glanced back at Minosian who glided near, yet respectfully maintained a gentler distance. She called herself a Random Omnipotent Being, but this being standing next to her, and the vast courts of these spirits, ones who did not or had never claimed omnipotency, were above her in participation and even in comprehension, yet they were so dear and paternally affectionate, whose gazes retain a sense of jovian gentleness.
Her throat felt dry. For what felt like the first time, Aqua Devida did not know what to do, for she felt too small in this vast Universe.
And thus, Aqua twitched, muttering. "...I have questions." She said, lowering her gaze, muttering with a shaken leafy heart.
High King Minosian, and the rest of his brother-spirits, vaster than any celestial court that Aqua could ever perceive, looked at her gently.
"Thou hast come far, young one," Minosian spoke gently, making Aqua flinch like a child in the presence of a fatherly presence. "Taken, you have, of a son of man of the Silent Planet. That path hath set you out to seek for thyself of what thou hast never considered until now."
Aqua felt her heart pause. A son of man of the Silent Planet. Minosian was speaking of the young man who called himself Azariah, the young man who had defied all tropes and concepts that should have been predictably followed. Her disturbance of heart led her back here, to this universe that she no longer recognizes upon the second view.
"...It was never by chance," Aqua quivered at the revelation. It was planned. But not how she understood the term plan. No, this was... something else. An Unknown Providence. She was meant to find this Azariah and pluck him out of his world. She was permitted to do that, otherwise, she would not have been able too, for Azariah comes from an Earth that was unique in its dignity.
Aqua quietly looked back to Earth... no, before that, she looked at the Moon. A Man on the Moon. Not a literal Man. But a celestial satellite intelligence that lives within the same spatial coordinate as the physical moon, but its being is within another dimension that cannot be analyzed through empirical means. It too was a divine celestial intelligence, and it could not even fit in three-dimensional space, for it was too larger than a finite infinity.
Aqua felt thoughts of inspiration coming from within this Man on the Moon, whose whisperings made her behold a share of his lofty thoughts. His thoughts beheld a Woman... no, not a mere Woman, but One that was like the Dawn that precedes the Sun of Justice. Her breath, taken away by the beauty of such a Woman. No, not merely just a Woman, a Queen-Mother of the Universe, an Advocate of All Peoples.
"...I praise thee, Woman, whose immaculate feet, preserved from sin, crushing death, thou touchest me who am but dust who hover unworthily before the Masterpiece of the Composer," whispers the Man on the Moon, whose luminous rays were the equivalent of its tears, praising the Creator whom he reverently calls the Composer.
Aqua couldn't say anything before such a Mystery. She looked and saw this strange divine intelligence praising... a mere human? No, it couldn't be just a mere human. She felt more... divinized. She was not a god like her. She was human. But that made it too terrible to ponder.
She turned towards the High King Minosian and he spoke softly to her. "Thus you see, my child, that the domains of the Sovereign Good, raise the lowly."
She could hear the resounding, gentler songs of these vast spirits of Jovian delight who sang. "Hail is the Woman, the lowliest to whom personal relationships extend, in horizontal and in vertical, forming a crossroads rung true."
She gulped at the majestic choirs of these spirits. They were not angels, for she had seen all types of angels. No, that was not accurate. It felt like she finally realized that all of the angels that she saw within her own perspective and traversals were never the bright morning stars before the first dawn of creation. She never saw the true angels. She saw shadows that cannot be equated to these true angels, for true angels are their own species of individuals, each individual a species, thus they do not have derivatives.
But what do these so-called angels - winged bird men, mighty warriors, energy beings - all derivative from?
Why, they were derivative of the middle natures above them, for no one can equal the true angels, much less the True Morning Star who created these angels out of pure love.
She understood, not in words, but in the songs of these beings who hail a Queen-Mother that could not be registered in any divine databank, for She, the Immaculata, was given over to the Sovereign Good to stretch forth a never-ending participation of graces mediated for all.
Her heart, proud and haughty, gave way to a trembling leaf that did not know what she had stumbled into. She, who wanted to investigate the anomaly that was Azariah, found something far too precious instead. Azariah was but an instrument that led her to this place... this cathedral of hierarchical plenitudes.
The High King of Jovial Spirits gently called out. "Come child, see for thyself, the Silent Planet." He descended. Aqua followed in his descent. The more they descended, however, the more Aqua saw something she could not identify, and something that made her breath swallow as she see luminous lights that covered all parts of the planet.
No, not mere luminous lights. One Light, present in all of these Lights. The same Light, present in all locations. The High King Minosian gently maintaned respectful distance, and bowed seven times, and from his right was a sceptre of great authority that he offered and titled.
Aqua looked at all of these Lights, and saw Hosts. Living Bread. Stored in simple tabernacles all over this planet. Peering, she saw invisible creatures, benevolent daimons, who day and night, offered worship and praise to the Prime Mover of All Things hidden in the Sacramental Hosts.
She glances and sees mankind not paying attention to these daimons, for they could not see them. To each its own participation, for these daimons cry out with gentle song: "O LORD, though we art not man whom you made from your breath, let us praise and thank thee nonetheless and keep thy company, unworthy as we ought."
She looked further, and peering beyond, she saw the streams of time itself. She saw more daimons, flowing through the streams of time, singing psalmic hymns that were not of Scripture, yet reflected Scripture. They did not copy, for they felt and knew none could add to the Word, but they could complement and express more hidden lights, thus, they pass through all ages of this universe, undeterred, mostly forgotten, but seen and loved like all the rest.
She looked and saw a simple spatial craft hovering over the night skies of America. A hovering sixfold disk that contained around a set of passengers ranging to an infinity, non-conforming to physics, of extraterrestrial origin, that came from another humble planet that was a thousand light-years away from Earth. In it, she saw these strange greenish luminous creatures, who walked with three legs, and had four eyes.
She saw these beings quietly observe, never interfering with what these beings call the, "Development of Omega.", for they knew the sacred chronologies of ages past and future. Like the rest, they too acknowledged a Creator Above All, whose goodness brought gifts of extra-natural sciences that cannot be discerned by empirical human thought.
All such and more. She saw. And she trembled before this majestic theater that held a Theo-Drama that sprinkled like endless streams of rivers. It was both personal and cosmic, callings for participation, for all creatures.
Now, she felt even smaller. She could not even count how many she was seeing, hidden behind the veil, only now was she seeing these beings that had always been here.
"...Then who am I?" she asked, muttering in both awe and silent dread, looking at the kindly, jovial high king.
Minosian spoke gently. "You are what thou art, and ought to be."
And she flinched, instinctively bowing her head, biting her lip. For what felt like the first time in eternity, she did not know how to answer back, but only contemplate and stop moving, and actually took a closer gaze as a result.
She had to find out the source. She started to slip through Azariah's universe. She looked around in between, cloaking herself invisibly. On the surface, it's not special. It was just like any other universe she sees. Humanity being the only ones who... live here...
...No wait.
She looked. She saw... something stranger.
For whatever reason, she bumped into something completely unexplainable.
She was around the gas giant planet of Jupiter, to be more precise.
But... looking around. Looking closer. Within this one planet's big ball of gas, she noticed the presence of these strange alien beings. They do not have a physical anthropomorphic or hominid form. They... The best approximate word she could describe these types of beings was aetherial. They were... so many that she couldn't even count them, or fit them into any sets of infinities. Their forms stretched into dimensions she could not even see. Impossible, she could see all dimensions, that's per her nature, so why can't she see these beings?
"...What am I looking at here?" She muttered carefully, widening her aqua eyes. She took the first hesitant step, and... many of these strange aetherials looked back.
"Greetings, child," says one aetherial, hovering in a dimensionless motion, with a tone that was vast yet gentle. He spoke her own language, descending to her level to communicate properly. Descending. It implied that this being was above her in every way. "Why have thou come a long way?"
Aqua looked at the being that addressed her. She felt intimidated. In normal circumstances, she'd correct those who say that she was a mere child, for she had seen the rise and fall of countless multiverses; she was older than the Big Bangs and the Entropic Ends. She had seen the iterations of Christian Gods come and go with no root. But... But she never once looked or felt intimidated her whole life.
She glanced and saw a multi-layered series of veils torn out, revealing something hidden from both the physical and the empirical. Countless more of these aetherial spirits were hovering, not just inside Jupiter, but outside Jupiter, and also lingered on its over one hundred moons, including especially the four precious moons of Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto. There were horizontal and vertical and crossroad directions beyond mere dimensional coordinates, where nests of these spirits appear.
Aqua looked back and forth. They were everywhere. No, even everywhere can't describe the scale of these beings.
"...What...What are you?" Aqua muttered, narrowed yet extremely cautious, taking a little step back.
The aetherial who had spoken to her, this taller, majestic being, stooping low, adopting a form that would allow some participative descent, spoke softly. "I am Minosian, Jovian High King in the name of Our All-Father Logos."
When she heard the word "Logos.", she felt her entire being was compelled to kneel and quake before the Authority behind that Name. Her mind suddenly flashed. Just one brief moment, she saw the Crucifix. It was a brief moment. But that very brief flash made her recoil and quake, as she took a little step back, which reverberated like a rippling pond.
A Crucifix, too bloody and terrible, yet whose eyes gently looked at her. Only a flash, before it was gone, her eyes now looking at the presence of these aetherial spirituals whose domain was the orbit of Jupiter and its moons. It felt more like a council of spirits, without end or limit, their gentler gazes looking at her, who felt too small.
"...Jovian?" she muttered carefully, shaking like a leaf.
Minosian gazes at her, and as if by a thought, comprehends immediately what disturbs her heart. "You wish to know, not only us, but alas, thou did not even know that thou had stepped into the domain of participation. We, spirits of the aerial planes, are but one stone among many within the bounds of aeviternity."
His gaze gently looks down towards Earth. Aqua followed his kingly gaze. It was directed at that tiny blue-greenish planet. Earth. That was where she plucked Azariah over. She looked at it again, and she saw that these familiar alternate timelines that she saw once when looking at this Earth, did not, in fact, become part of this Earth at all. What she thought was simply another Earth, was, in fact, a hidden, truer Earth, covered over layers within layers of subtlety.
Before, she thought it was merely another planet with its familiar tropes. Now, what she saw was in fact a mistaken perception, a layer of camouflage that hid the true nature of this planet. And what she saw was... nothing. That was the problem. She did not see anything familiar. Alternate timelines. Multiverses. All that she could deduce from tropes.
No... this was a Silent Planet.
She could truthfully not see the past and the future of this world. And looking beyond Earth, neither could she see the past and future of this vast expanse. Aqua felt like calling it the universe from her own tongue was too inaccurate. This was an Ancient Universe, whose diverse mysteries and sacraments were something she could not see.
Her heart quaked. What... What did she just discover? But the question itself was a deflection. She glanced back at Minosian who glided near, yet respectfully maintained a gentler distance. She called herself a Random Omnipotent Being, but this being standing next to her, and the vast courts of these spirits, ones who did not or had never claimed omnipotency, were above her in participation and even in comprehension, yet they were so dear and paternally affectionate, whose gazes retain a sense of jovian gentleness.
Her throat felt dry. For what felt like the first time, Aqua Devida did not know what to do, for she felt too small in this vast Universe.
And thus, Aqua twitched, muttering. "...I have questions." She said, lowering her gaze, muttering with a shaken leafy heart.
High King Minosian, and the rest of his brother-spirits, vaster than any celestial court that Aqua could ever perceive, looked at her gently.
"Thou hast come far, young one," Minosian spoke gently, making Aqua flinch like a child in the presence of a fatherly presence. "Taken, you have, of a son of man of the Silent Planet. That path hath set you out to seek for thyself of what thou hast never considered until now."
Aqua felt her heart pause. A son of man of the Silent Planet. Minosian was speaking of the young man who called himself Azariah, the young man who had defied all tropes and concepts that should have been predictably followed. Her disturbance of heart led her back here, to this universe that she no longer recognizes upon the second view.
"...It was never by chance," Aqua quivered at the revelation. It was planned. But not how she understood the term plan. No, this was... something else. An Unknown Providence. She was meant to find this Azariah and pluck him out of his world. She was permitted to do that, otherwise, she would not have been able too, for Azariah comes from an Earth that was unique in its dignity.
Aqua quietly looked back to Earth... no, before that, she looked at the Moon. A Man on the Moon. Not a literal Man. But a celestial satellite intelligence that lives within the same spatial coordinate as the physical moon, but its being is within another dimension that cannot be analyzed through empirical means. It too was a divine celestial intelligence, and it could not even fit in three-dimensional space, for it was too larger than a finite infinity.
Aqua felt thoughts of inspiration coming from within this Man on the Moon, whose whisperings made her behold a share of his lofty thoughts. His thoughts beheld a Woman... no, not a mere Woman, but One that was like the Dawn that precedes the Sun of Justice. Her breath, taken away by the beauty of such a Woman. No, not merely just a Woman, a Queen-Mother of the Universe, an Advocate of All Peoples.
"...I praise thee, Woman, whose immaculate feet, preserved from sin, crushing death, thou touchest me who am but dust who hover unworthily before the Masterpiece of the Composer," whispers the Man on the Moon, whose luminous rays were the equivalent of its tears, praising the Creator whom he reverently calls the Composer.
Aqua couldn't say anything before such a Mystery. She looked and saw this strange divine intelligence praising... a mere human? No, it couldn't be just a mere human. She felt more... divinized. She was not a god like her. She was human. But that made it too terrible to ponder.
She turned towards the High King Minosian and he spoke softly to her. "Thus you see, my child, that the domains of the Sovereign Good, raise the lowly."
She could hear the resounding, gentler songs of these vast spirits of Jovian delight who sang. "Hail is the Woman, the lowliest to whom personal relationships extend, in horizontal and in vertical, forming a crossroads rung true."
She gulped at the majestic choirs of these spirits. They were not angels, for she had seen all types of angels. No, that was not accurate. It felt like she finally realized that all of the angels that she saw within her own perspective and traversals were never the bright morning stars before the first dawn of creation. She never saw the true angels. She saw shadows that cannot be equated to these true angels, for true angels are their own species of individuals, each individual a species, thus they do not have derivatives.
But what do these so-called angels - winged bird men, mighty warriors, energy beings - all derivative from?
Why, they were derivative of the middle natures above them, for no one can equal the true angels, much less the True Morning Star who created these angels out of pure love.
She understood, not in words, but in the songs of these beings who hail a Queen-Mother that could not be registered in any divine databank, for She, the Immaculata, was given over to the Sovereign Good to stretch forth a never-ending participation of graces mediated for all.
Her heart, proud and haughty, gave way to a trembling leaf that did not know what she had stumbled into. She, who wanted to investigate the anomaly that was Azariah, found something far too precious instead. Azariah was but an instrument that led her to this place... this cathedral of hierarchical plenitudes.
The High King of Jovial Spirits gently called out. "Come child, see for thyself, the Silent Planet." He descended. Aqua followed in his descent. The more they descended, however, the more Aqua saw something she could not identify, and something that made her breath swallow as she see luminous lights that covered all parts of the planet.
No, not mere luminous lights. One Light, present in all of these Lights. The same Light, present in all locations. The High King Minosian gently maintaned respectful distance, and bowed seven times, and from his right was a sceptre of great authority that he offered and titled.
Aqua looked at all of these Lights, and saw Hosts. Living Bread. Stored in simple tabernacles all over this planet. Peering, she saw invisible creatures, benevolent daimons, who day and night, offered worship and praise to the Prime Mover of All Things hidden in the Sacramental Hosts.
She glances and sees mankind not paying attention to these daimons, for they could not see them. To each its own participation, for these daimons cry out with gentle song: "O LORD, though we art not man whom you made from your breath, let us praise and thank thee nonetheless and keep thy company, unworthy as we ought."
She looked further, and peering beyond, she saw the streams of time itself. She saw more daimons, flowing through the streams of time, singing psalmic hymns that were not of Scripture, yet reflected Scripture. They did not copy, for they felt and knew none could add to the Word, but they could complement and express more hidden lights, thus, they pass through all ages of this universe, undeterred, mostly forgotten, but seen and loved like all the rest.
She looked and saw a simple spatial craft hovering over the night skies of America. A hovering sixfold disk that contained around a set of passengers ranging to an infinity, non-conforming to physics, of extraterrestrial origin, that came from another humble planet that was a thousand light-years away from Earth. In it, she saw these strange greenish luminous creatures, who walked with three legs, and had four eyes.
She saw these beings quietly observe, never interfering with what these beings call the, "Development of Omega.", for they knew the sacred chronologies of ages past and future. Like the rest, they too acknowledged a Creator Above All, whose goodness brought gifts of extra-natural sciences that cannot be discerned by empirical human thought.
All such and more. She saw. And she trembled before this majestic theater that held a Theo-Drama that sprinkled like endless streams of rivers. It was both personal and cosmic, callings for participation, for all creatures.
Now, she felt even smaller. She could not even count how many she was seeing, hidden behind the veil, only now was she seeing these beings that had always been here.
"...Then who am I?" she asked, muttering in both awe and silent dread, looking at the kindly, jovial high king.
Minosian spoke gently. "You are what thou art, and ought to be."
And she flinched, instinctively bowing her head, biting her lip. For what felt like the first time in eternity, she did not know how to answer back, but only contemplate and stop moving, and actually took a closer gaze as a result.
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Chapter 10 - Loop 2 - A Certain Magical Index
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Multiverse Learner 101
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Misaki Shokuhou knew plenty of people in her life. Most were not to her personal liking. That was the Academy City that she had learned to live with every single day. You cannot even rest for one minute, and already somebody is trying to examine you like a potential lab rat. She had borne witness to shadier than grey projects, uncaring people who took lives for progress, dreams trampled into nothing but pure calculus. Her mind was her own trusty weapon that allowed her to survive and not be cornered like some helpless animal. It was not merely her ability; it was an extension of her own mind that allowed her to discern and kept her away from anything that would have been detrimental to both her own person and to the people she swore to protect.
But right now...?
She observes quietly this young man who had groveled before her right in front of the entirety of Tokiwadai. That was... new. No one does that on the first meeting. Even more so, if this were just a simple dogeza, she might have dismissed it as a way to gain her favor, but there was something about this young man who performed this act and asked for help. The tone of his voice conveyed that he was essentially expecting nothing. That's not something people with intentions usually convey.
The first thing that Shokuhou did was ask him with her sharply steady voice, which covers her own uneasing discernment. "...Stand up."
He did so obediently, without noticing her thoughts. She looks him in the eye, discerning what she could from those brownish eyes of his. She looked and saw genuine surrender. That pricked her. His eyes were completely different from someone like Mikoto Misaka, who was more energetically charged and opinionated, on a similar contrasting level as Shokuhou, which often sparks conflict. But this young man's eyes were carrying nothing of the sort. It was the eyes of one who didn't look like it ever wanted to lie. Impossible, everyone keeps secrets about something, no one is this genuinely clean, lies make up a part of daily life, from little to greater. Secrets are the norm for Academy City, where even its power curriculum and its good intentions serves only as a means to an end. This man, however, did not feel like he'd fit the norm.
"Junko..." she muttered softly towards Junko Hokaze.
"...Yes, my Queen," Hokaze looked at her, being taken out of her own surprised mood. Not that Shokuhou could blame her, because this was quite intriguing yet unprecedented to experience a seemingly new janitor kneeling before Shokuhou.
"Contact Kobayashi. Tell them to put the rest of the girls on stand-by," she commanded softly, while her starry eyes remained locked on to this mysterious Azariah, who remained steady and awaited her judgment. "You, on the other hand, accompany me, just in case."
"O-Of course, my Queen," Hokaze nodded obediently, her face turning serious, yet glancing at Azariah one more time, his own humility drawing her own curiosity.
While Hokaze drew her attention to her phone, Shokuhou observed from all angles, spotting two unfamiliar middle school students. Both of them were blonde and foreign. One of them, she recognized, was Frenda Seivulun, an associate of a fellow Level 5, Mugino Shizuri, a.k.a. Meltdowner. The other, she could not recognize at all. She could tell that the two were staring at this mysterious Azariah. Associates perhaps? Likely. One of them, Frenda, looked like she was looking at an idiot, Azariah, in this case, probably. The other looked like... her expression was a strange one, holding both of her hands together in awe and contemplation.
Now, what would this Azariah be involved in that he was asking for her help? The dark side, perhaps? Likely, since Frenda is here, and is an associate of that hidden corner not known to most of Academy City. But Azariah's entire posture felt like Shokuhou herself was missing something vital in her psychoanalysis. His eyes were clear, intentionally surrendering to her analysis, as if he knew of her ability and surrendered anyway. There must be something she's missing here. People who knew of her ability would at least prepare a contingency of some kind. She could only recall that wretched old man, Gensei Kihara, back in Daihaisesai, who did had something in store for her, but of course she managed to go around in and turned the tables on him.
Now, what would this Azariah bring when confronting her?
After hearing Hokaze finish talking on her phone, the former informed her. "My Queen, I did as you asked."
"Thank you," Shokuhou smiled a little, yet her smile covered something subtler. Her eyes were locked onto Azariah, determined to spot anything that she could use to provide context with this encounter. "Azariah, yes?"
"Yes," Azariah nodded respectfully.
"...I'd assume you'd have plenty to talk about, however..." she glanced at the now stunned Tokiwadai students who were staring at Azariah. Their gossip was reduced to silence before a man who humbly groveled before the Queen of Tokiwadai. "...I suppose you probably wanted to discuss a certain thing in private, away from prying ears." She said, measuring her words carefully.
"Out of respect for all parties involved, yes, you are correct, my lady," Azariah spoke humbly.
"Oh, I see," Shokuhou muttered softly, carefully measuring him. Odd, he didn't mention anything about himself too directly. He generalized it to all parties, but he didn't say anything about himself. "Then, you wouldn't mind if I lead the way."
"Of course, my lady," Azariah said.
Shokuhou said gracefully. "Then, don't mind if I do. Oh, and..." She stopped walking a little and looked sideways. "...You can bring your associates with you, if you want."
"Of course, my lady," Azariah said.
Shokuhou had the urge to twitch her eyebrows, but kept her composure. Very compliant. Too surrendering. Too humble. And she wasn't even using her own ability to make him do this. She had to be careful here. No one can be this... this humble, at least not without good reason. Perhaps it has something to do with his own predicament. Nevertheless, she'd hear him out, but that didn't mean she trusted him. Nothing too personal. She has quite a few people she trusts, and even fewer people she could trust that she couldn't read their minds on, such as that spiky-haired idiot who no longer remembers her every single time.
But something about this Azariah was unsettling her. She didn't know why, nor does she have the full context. Perhaps she'd obtain it from this young man's explanation.
Shokuhou, along with her right-hand woman, quietly walked. Azariah, she saw, quietly gestured to the two associates with him to follow them.
...It was somewhere at least within the grounds of Tokiwadai. A private corner, one of many, that Shokuhou often uses in case she were to gather her clique together. On one side, there was Shokuhou, seated on the sofa with one of her legs crossed, with Hokaze standing nearby. On the other side, there was Azariah, who was sitting properly on the other end of the sofa, with his associates present on both left and right.
Frenda herself looked like she couldn't even believe how she even got here, all because of Azariah's actions. Shokuhou was both bemused and thoughtful because, in a sense, she couldn't blame Frenda. Azariah was quite interesting at first impression. It made Shokuhou no longer being able to rely on her usual tools of discernment.
Shokohou let the man start talking. He did so. He started to explain all that he knew.
"What I am about to say, my lady, is from unorthodox yet anonymous sources, thus even I alone cannot verify them without discerning them based on concrete facts," Azariah started the conversation with a respectful tone.
That was strangely interesting. He was essentially saying that the information he could share could not even be fully trusted, even when he revealed it. Normally, a person with information sets out to convince others of the truth of their argument. But here was this strange young man saying otherwise, open to the possibility that his sources could have errors, and therefore, absolute discernment is required, complementing even her own suspicions. This was a far cry from how Shokuhou's usual interactions with anything related to the dark side usually go.
Scientists in the city, paid to the brim with blood money, usually start and propose a specific theory that they have discovered and set out to give their evidence, seemingly fully convinced of the truth, when even Shokuhou herself could see that a lot of it happens to carry a trace of their hubris and personality. She has a sharp-edged mind to detect even the faintest lie. But Azariah did not do such a thing at all.
It was... frustrating, yet intriguing. She had not been this unsettled since... that one spiky-haired boy who saved her, though at least with him, Shokuhou can at least still tell and sort of keep up, a high school boy with a misfortunate right hand who does whatever he needs to do with no care for any opinion. Wreckless, yet her charming prince nonetheless. Azariah, on the other hand, was more... unpredictable, because she could not fit him inside a box. She could not detect any lie or trace of false humility. Nothing. A blank slate, yet more alive than most people in this city combined.
Who are you, Azariah? What do you hope to gain from this? She thought with quiet tact. Her ears were sharply attentive as his explanations tackled a specific sore spot. The dark side of this squeaky on the inside city of science. Right now, it's in the middle of a proxy cold conspiracy war that could potentially turn hot, and numerous people could get hurt, and that, of course, includes one of his associates, Frenda.
When he started explaining in thorough detail, Shokuhou glanced at a pale-looking Frenda. Oh, so she looked shocked? She, Frenda, did not expect this. Shokuhou took note of this minor detail. Azariah was no liar, and yet, his associate did not know the information he was currently sharing. Either they only just met, or Azariah did not share the information with her.
"...My associate, Frenda Seivulun, is currently on the run from the fourth Level 5 esper of Academy City, Shizuri Mugino," Azariah explained, and then he described even more intimate details, of how Frenda essentially betrayed her own team to save herself from the torture orchestrated by one Kakine Teitoku, the second Level 5 esper of Academy City, and from his own dark side group, School.
Azariah laid down the active players, the ones he knew at least. Group. Item. School. Block. Member. He talked about the possibility that there could be other dark side groups involved, but he wasn't completely sure. He talked about the known ones he's listed. Their battle strategies and plans. Their main intentions. The very sensitive and delicate information that even reached back to...
...The board chairman.
Azariah was not a normal person. To even mention the one on the top who is in charge of the sovereignty of the city-state made Shokuhou briefly freeze, before quietly mind running her thoughts. Who is this Azariah, and what does he actually know? Not just anyone could confidently mention someone like the board chairman, and even know the plans of assassination related to him. Azariah even explained how, ever since the chaos that was happening around the global fear of a third world war, with the city currently mobilizing it's exterior defenses, it's interior defenses are left at an extremely vulnerable state, and that's when the dark side groups finally come out in the open, to apply whatever agenda could be seen fit, depending on who's in charge.
At a certain point, Shokuhou became instantly aware of something. No, someone. Her right-hand woman. Junko Hokaze. She glanced at the latter, noticing her paler, conflicted expression. Shokuhou winced. Ah yes, she supposed that Hokaze, far as Shokuhou knew, had never been this exposed to the actual dark side of the city. There were close instances, certainly, but Hokaze never seemed to notice much, if at all. But this time, Hokaze was now dragged into the very thing that had quietly haunted Shokuhou for many years. Something that no one in Academy City should hear.
Shokuhou held up her right hand immediately "Wait," she said, and Azariah obeyed, as he too noticed with silent concern the pale expression of Hokaze. Shokuhou spoke up. "Junko."
Hokaze flinched a little, glancing at Shokuhou.
"This stays in this room. Just us. I do not want the rest of the clique to be in danger if this information gets out. Is that clear?" Shokuhou asked.
No, commanded. Because her concerns were justified, for she knew that Academy City had a darker tendency hidden under it, of its tenaciousness to target those who knew far too much and would be a potential threat to its overall integrity. It explains how oftentimes, Shokuhou would rearrange a few memories here and there for some people, plenty of them through Misaka's request, because of how dangerous the dark side truthfully was. Misaka and Shokuhou were opposites in the spectrum, but never let it be said that they were not ignorant of the darker side of the city. It was a hurtful truth that they both carried away, without needing to get all of their loved ones involved in any way.
"...Y...Yes, of course, my Queen," Hokaze nodded, though her face was still pale.
Shokuhou glanced at the silent Azariah and spoke softly. "For someone who claims that your sources are not to be trusted, you sure quite describe far too much."
"I do not mean to offend, of course, my lady," Azariah spoke humbly.
"No, no, it's fine," Shokuhou smiled, but it wasn't reaching her eyes. She waved her hand casually, but her hidden posture was tense as she placed her left leg to her right. "But, considering the information you're revealing, I'm more wondering about your personal safety, thus I could at least understand why you'd ask me and... Misaka-san... for help, if it means keeping you from getting shot down by a Level 5 who can spray you from the inside out."
"While I'm of course aware of the dangers to my own person, I'm more concerned at least for my associate, Frenda Seivelun-" Azariah explained, before Frenda herself cuts him off.
"Are you actually kidding me?!" Frenda couldn't help herself, as she looked at him like an absolute moron, panicking internally. "Forget me, you're practically a walking death magnet with that amount of information you're carrying around! I don't even know who's really the one being hunted, you or me!"
"Fair enough, but maybe we should focus back to a more proper civil discussion, considering we are not the only ones in this room," Azariah politely reminded Frenda while glancing at Shokuhou.
Shokuhou watched him, while her quiet, indecipherable smile lingered, raising her right hand as she spoke. "I would have to admit, your associate does have a point, not to mention, being even here at all is quite the risky move. You couldn't even place this information into either Judgment or Anti-Skill, but you revealed it first to me? Why? I know you gave me your reasons, such as your associate, Seivelun-san, but truthfully, what is it you really seek, from either me or from Misaka-san?"
Azariah was thoughtful before eventually speaking up again. "If you wish, my lady, you can read my mind if you want to verify."
Shokuhou narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Oh? And why should I?"
Azariah quietly breathes a heavy sigh, before speaking up again. "...I have information on Kamijou Touma, the boy who lost memories of you one year ago, if I'm not mistaken."
"...!"
Shokuhou widened her eyes. She felt a cold shiver ran down her spine.
"...Queen?" Hokaze looked at her, concerned yet confused, as she noticed her expression.
"...Uhh, okay, who?" Frenda blinked a little, confused.
"Umm, who is Kamijou-san, if I may ask?" says Asia, who was also confused and frowning, looking at Azariah.
Azariah smiled sadly, saying. "That's really not my secret to tell, Asia, it's something most people don't need to hear, I'm sorry."
Asia immediately reassured kindly yet attentively. "Ah, no, do not worry, Azariah-san, I understand if such things should not be talked about."
"...You," Shokuhou muttered, twitching as the urge to go through her bags to get a remote was severely tempting. Her eyes were locked onto him now. No one... No one should know the actual connection between her and that spiky-haired boy who protected her from one year ago. No one should know Touma Kamijou's connection with her. Not even Misaka knew. "...You know far too much, Azariah-san," Shokuhou muttered, her tone was now a little cold, masking her caution and quiet terror.
Who is this person? What does he know about her prince that she possibly never knew? Did he know her prince? If so, what was he actually hiding underneath that mind of his. A part of her thought not to even try; this could be a bait and switch to let her guard down. On the other hand, this is the first time she hears about someone talking about her prince to her. The first time. Not even someone like Gensei Kihara ever used that kind of leverage. But Azariah had this information, but he never seemed to treat it like leverage.
No, he just told the truth. Plain and simple. She still didn't detect any lie. A hope of a miracle was quietly forming again in her heart. Her desire for her prince to remember her again. Her face masked her sense of heaviness.
Azariah never responded to her. He simply looked back and waited for her decision.
"...Ara, nothing to say about that remark?" Shokuhou smiled, yet held a quiet contingency back from her mind.
"...Whatever you do is up to you, my lady," Azariah explained calmly, yet humbly.
There it was again. That blasted humility. Alright, fine, she would humor him a little. She quietly reached out for her handbag while muttering. "Junko." And Junko Hokaze would immediately glance at her, somehow understanding the signal.
They don't know what could happen, so at least Hokaze was here when something needed a little more physical. Now she had even less of a reason to trust Azariah, or rather, to trust in Azariah by relying on her own thought pattern. The problem wasn't his information; it was the way he was handling this conversation by not taking control. But this man was no doormat; he was fully aware of his decisions while keeping distance from her respectfully. He was ready for her to take over his mind, and he surrendered completely his will to her.
It was unnatural. Vexing even. It felt like this man was completely denying his own independent autonomy. She could get the hesitation at least, the fear of your mind being tampered with, but Azariah never seemed to show any of that. He just surrendered and waited.
Shokuhou quietly grabbed her remote and pointed at him. Frenda twitched, even though she wasn't the one who would get her mind entered. Asia glanced only towards Azariah, fully trusting him.
Shokuhou smile, but it wasn't a genuine one. "Are you quite sure you want me to do this? You don't have any second thoughts?"
"No," Azariah shook his head. "I trust you, my lady."
Shokuhou twitched her smile, a pinch from her own heart, and yet she did not show it. "Oho~ Offering trust to someone he hasn't met yet? You're quite reckless, Azariah-san."
"No, my lady," Azariah spoke quietly, looking at her in the eye. "Rather, I do not wish to live in fear; it is never a way to live."
Frenda couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Shokuhou couldn't help but be intrigued by the answer, though she covered it with her cutesy tone. "...Ara, that's quite an interesting perspective. But unfortunately, it's not something that's practical when you have that kind of information."
"Is practicality a shield, or a chain, my lady?" Azariah explained humbly. "Because I personally think it's both. When taken too far, it can just end up feeling enchained to an isolation, turning into the self, not to the other."
Shokuhou became silent. She frowned inwardly while never letting it show through her smile. "...Alright, you got my attention, then... here, I, go," she said, as she pressed a button.
...Now entering his mind.
...Right now, she had entered the mind of this person.
...No wait, that was not right. She was no longer sitting on the sofa, for instance. She was somewhere, but she did not know where. She was standing up, without even lifting herself up. She blinked. Looking at the place, it was a forest of some kind, with a fog that was not ominous, but complementary to the nature surrounding it. She ended up somewhere that wasn't even Azariah's own mind. It was somewhere else.
An open space of memories. A World of some kind. It was not Azariah himself. It was a Paradise. She glances and can see the flowing memories, like a river, of vast memories of one Azariah. All of his thoughts were hers to access. No, that was not accurate. There were some things she could not truthfully decipher. His real name, for instance, was something she could not access. It was not because she was being resisted by the young man. No, this was not even his own mind. This was a place completely independent from even the mind itself, a place reserved like a precious chest of memories, of not only Azariah, but numerous souls without end.
Someone was keeping her from accessing truthfully the entirety of Azariah's memories. Because it was not yet time, an inkling thought passed through her mind like a gentle wind. That made her shiver. What was this place? Her arms lifted to her chest, as if feeling not the cold but a gentle breeze that made her stand up a little straighter, and her mind rapidly paid attention to every detail she could see.
Her starry eyes glanced ahead, and looked. She could see the rivers of Azariah's childhood days, devoted to... God... no, not that. Not a God she would be vaguely familiar wit,h as something that people outside Academy City think. Not Kami. Not kamis. But Tenshu-sama.
Most of the memories she could see, as she walked towards it with caution, were too ordinary, too unimportant in the grand scheme of things. It did not even reek of a member of the dark side of Academy City. No, it was far too normal, showcasing a happier childhood, with two loving parents; his father looked foreign, and his mother looked Japanese. A practicing Catholic family. No, not like her world's Roman Catholic Church. This one felt... both ordinary and stranger.
Information that was never worth anything, if any dark side member ever sees it.
She looked at the memories, waving like gentle seas, as she now spotted memories of hundreds of Holy Masses within this young man's lifetime, which he attended. But, when she looked at them all, she felt seen, flinching grievously, her mouth couldn't dare draw the right words. No words were worthy, for only the priests of these memories were worthy to say the words.
"Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is My Body, which will be given up for you."
And as these priests lifted them up, no matter what time this took place in, quietly, at the same time, gentle songs of majesty echoed, from the song of angels. No, not merely angels, for angel meant messenger. There were Nine Orders. Nine Choirs. Invisible to her. Yet, there were so many that the numbers cannot contain them. No words could contain them, for all words could only be pointers, not specifics. The true holy ones who sang throughout aeviternity, who quietly took the form of spheres upon spheres of clouds full of prismic rainbow lights as they sing:
"Sa daigdig ang buhay ay ganyan
(That is how life is in this world)
Mayroong ligaya at lumbay
(There is joy and sadness both)
Maghintay at may nakalaang bukas
(Wait, for a tomorrow has been prepared)."
Shokuhou felt her breath pitched. Her heart stopped completely. A simple gesture, of priests holding up a simple circular Bread, now there was gushing forth streaming rays of blood and pale water, brighter than even the earthly sun. An Uncreated Light that does not scorch. Gentler winds that came from the Hosts were embracing her, blowing even her clothing. But it wasn't like the winds that blew her skirt. No, that felt like a counterfeit before a wind too gentle that no perversion would dare walk too.
She felt... too exposed, and yet she could not run. Where was she even going to run to? It felt like these rays were engulfing all things. All things. There was no escape. Yet, it gave her such peace that no diplomacy could ever truthfully attain. Her mind, sharpened with trauma and paranoia, no longer mattered when these same sharpened senses and mind were totally aware instead of an all-encompassing presence that held all things, and offering an eternal sunrise.
This wasn't purity. It was Holy. This wasn't power. It was Just. This wasn't cruelty. It was Mercy Itself. Her knees were trembling before these Hosts, united despite the separation of all of these memories, for the One who was present in all of them is beyond time and aevum itself. He is Eternity Itself.
As the rays shone, they showed her more memories of Azariah, like the One delighted in them far more in even the ordinary.
A simple basketball game here between a young Azariah and his father, who teaches him the sport, with smiles on both of their faces, their sweat dropping with each exercise of their body.
Another memory of a young Azariah who was quietly kneeling in the confessional box with a prayerful, solemn attitude, confessing thoroughly after having examined it all. A priest spiritual director, who looked Japanese, after giving counsel, gently raised his hand and recited the absolution, and when he said this as he made the Sign of the Cross, the same rays from the Hosts were seen penetrating into Azariah in ways that not even Shokuhou could understand.
Numerous memories, when half of the entire day was spent studying, not for good grades, but of a will that wanted to learn, that was Azariah. Nobody special, just a boy who studies, from elementary school, middle school, high school, up to his university days. Right beside the table he uses in his studies was the statue of a saint, Thomas Aquinas.
Another memory, of a time when Azariah was quietly playing a PS% game with a friend named Richard.
Then, more memories. Too many ordinary memories to count. Yet they shone with a brilliance, like suns that were held like values of divine acts.
But what really made her pay close attention were these same rays of blood and water penetrating into something called: A Certain Magical Index.
She couldn't even blink. Her shock was already filling her heart, but it was a different kind of shock. She no longer felt in control of the situation. It was not that she lost her will. It was just that she was totally aware, because she was made aware by the One whose multi-layered rays of blood and water engulfed into the fabric of her own World. It was the One, instead of Azariah's own thoughts, who showed her the full truth of her own World, one not covered in any light novel, but as how the Logos saw it with His own eyes, for He was the One who created her World, not a mere light novel author.
She was shown a new side of her own World, but she shuddered in a quiet horror as her World was reeked with death, divided artificially by magic and by science, with various individuals forgotten. Not just in Academy City, but throughout her planet Earth, innocent deaths were everywhere, almost every single day, and she felt a tremendous grief coming from the One who watched all of this, seeing His own children slaughtered, not just in mere bodily death, but broken to the point where their own dreams were discarded.
She could see her own life, her own past, and possible futures. She could see Misaka's own past, and her possible futures. She could see everything. But the strangest thing was that it did not feel too overwhelming. It felt too gentle. Like the limits of memory did not matter, for this was not her brain storing it; it was the One who held every precious memory, even the ones forgotten, for nothing was forgotten.
But that was what terrified Shokuhou. She felt too seen. Herself. Her World. All of it. Including her own precious dreams of a miracle. No, a miracle? She never truly understood it until right now. She was looking at the One who started at all miracles, and continues to do so, as seen in the governance of creation itself. Even existence. Even free will. Even intellect. She could even feel her scientific knowledge flicker as she was shown numerous possibilities that she could never even dream of. Mathematics and sciences, stripped of opinions and contamination, were shown their glowing purity radiating into the most logical sets that had yet to be written on scientific papers. She was offered gifts. She did not merit them. It was given.
Her own knowledge of human psychology, bolstered and updated to a degree that she could never dare to contemplate. The study of its branch, stripped of its cold rational gaze, and instead, a Loving Gaze which grieved and wanted the whole being to live without the death of the mind, especially the soul and the spirit.
"...Who...are you?" She muttered, trembling like a leaf, her starry eyes now looking at the Hosts that are One, shining brightly.
And, after a quiet hush from the nine orders, unexpectedly, the One answered, but she could feel a Smile as warm as the Morning gazing on her. "...Your Father, My little star."
And the moment He said that, she couldn't help but drop to her knees, gazing on Someone that she could not comprehend, yet it was far too gentle. She had tried to pierce the mind of a man, Azariah, who knew too much. But what she found instead was not his thoughts, but Someone else's intimate thoughts that poured into her mind, which all came from the never-ending flames of a Sacred Heart.
This was not like Kamijou's protectiveness and defiance. It was far too intimate, in a way she could hardly know or understand. A Divine Parent who is One in Three, and because of that, multiplicity, plurality, diversity, and infinity were possible, for nothing is impossible. She felt the gaze of One who was genuinely happy to see her. The real her. She could not dare to speak up before this Presence that completely overtook her spirit into somewhere that was not even Azariah's mind, but somewhere that was a Paradise.
And what arose out of the veil, and even the fog respectfully dispersed in worship, was... an Agonizing Crucifix, that held a Man of Sorrows, with Five Wounds shining, and on the very cross were the words: I Am the Agonizing Jesus Christ Who Loves You.
Her starry eyes widened before the gentle, wounded gaze of the Man-God.
"...You are not fiction, My little star," says the One who always loved her, and as He said that, Shokuhou's own memory of her tragedy, of crouching next to a younger Kamijou from one year ago, which was the day she unintentionally caused him to lose his memories of her every single time. Her pain was not unseen, because only One saw it too clearly. His smile expressed it as He muttered gently. "You are mine, for My Heart is always yours."
And, the nine choirs sang, to complement their LORD's words:
"May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)."
Shokuhou trembled before the Ancient of Days, and the song that echoed like it was before even her own time. She couldn't dare utter a word, for all words bowed before the Logos. She looked and beheld a Pierced One who looked at her, all of her, including her life, too tenderly and knew all of her intimate thoughts and her heart. And yet, she felt no intrusion of privacy. It was always this. He was always there. Privacy was an illusion that never truthfully existed under His gentle gaze, for it is because of that gaze that there even is such a thing.
"Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)."
She couldn't defy Him. Not because He was strong, but because He descended down into her own level, in weakness. She was reduced to quiet tears before Someone who even now never coerces her will. She couldn't even deny what she was seeing. She could not rationalize this away. She was staring before Him, completely exposed. She couldn't articulate a word, nor would she dare to, for in fear of offending this Love that loved her too much and held her entire being. She felt like a little girl, all over again, but this time, no longer under the gaze of cruel scientists, but the One who gave Reason as a gift.
Her World... felt so dead now. So pathetic. Now that she gazed into the Crucified One. Her... Father... the Father of All Espers.
"...What...do you want with me?" she muttered, like a shaking leaf before the gentle wounded Hand.
Instead of responding with words, the All-Father of All Things gently pulled a little more out of the veil. He showed her an Earth, not like her own, but the Earth where Azariah came from. No, it was not merely just that. She saw, apart from other humans walking around every corner, strange creatures.
She could see hundreds of daimonic species, with horns speaking of authority instead of mere aesthetics, who remain hidden or walk through the same spatial locations but from different layers of metaphysical dimensions. All of them acknowledged an Authority who is also their Father. All of them gather around Sunday Masses, unseen, where they watch in reverence and worship; how the LORD of All Daimons works His miracles into the lowest rational form of life that is man in every Mass. The Mass was not an amphitheater for the daimons. It was a royal feast. And all daimons bowed their heads in reverence before such mysteries.
Then, she beholds more strange creatures, such as the Bigfoot-like species, with their brown fur coat-like hairs, which roam through the forests of America and Europe in layers too invisible to the naked eye.
From the skies, she saw gigantic atom-like sentient structures that roam and hover across the night skies in perfect formation, what Scripture had hinted at when it gives an expression, Host of Heaven. It was not merely referring to the angels of the LORD, for every word expression is simply a pointer. And every word that points to the angels also expresses a particular species. These sentient atoms were on such beings.
Then, so many more, from multiple beings with many legs and eyes, up to familiar hominids like a variant of resembling Cro-Magnons, to a luminous being that could have been mistaken for God, but said luminous being hinted at from Genesis when it spoke of Light and Darkness being good; said luminous being did not want to be mistaken for the Creator and instead hid itself completely in fearful reverence. Beings of urban legends and myths. No, the common understanding of such terms was woefully inadequate. Myth and Legend were not mere falsehood or mere fantasy. It simply meant trying to translate experiences that could not even be perfectly grasped.
And yet... all of these creatures and more, they were now stepping in out of the veil of this Earth, now showing themselves to the humans of this Earth. Why? Because she saw a sight that she could never unshake.
She sees... an immaculate white armored army of men that marched throughout the streets of the Vatican with silent conviction, holding black AK-47-shaped rifles in one of their arms, which held the inscriptions on the side: "IC XC NIKA" and "888". They held sturdy shields with their other hand, which held the inscriptions of "YHWH", "Chi-Rho embelisshed in Alpha and Omega symbols" and the "Most Sacred Heart" on them.
Their white armor bore the color markings of pure red, which signified the Passover of the Lamb. Their helmets held rounded fins and T-shaped black visors, as if recalling the Tau and the Nehustan that signified the Promise of Salvation. These men who marched were imperial guard stormtroopers, cloned from dust which came from heavens, earths, and under the earths. A middle hidden nature species called the Homo Tempus Clonizo. A true temporal species who predated even Adam himself by countless aevums. Their armor bears the inscriptions of: "YHWH", "Chi-Rho embelisshed in Alpha and Omega symbols", and "Most Sacred Heart" on their chests. Their shoulders, holding the color markings of the same Passion of Christ.
Some of these men lifted up banners which held the words: "YHWH", "IC XC NIKA", and the "Most Sacred Heart". Some lifted up a flag that held the colors of white and gold, with a smiling Sun in the left corner. It held the inscriptions of "YHWH", "IC XC NIKA", and the "Most Sacred Heart"
Shokuhou felt her entire breath taken away completely at the sheer massive size of this army. Her starry eyes could even look upward and see the same men, who flew through the skies with powered exoskeletons and silver wings.
Her eyes looked at the crowds of people, natives of Italy, as well as tourists and pilgrims from foreign countries, within the streets, speechless and turned dumb, for they all couldn't say a word at the strange phenomena that walked through their streets. Even the young ones who carried their cellphones and other social media platform gadgets and equipment were trembling as they could not even make a single meta-joke because these men bore a heavy, uncanny resemblance to a movie franchise that spoke of a galaxy far, far away. But little did most know that this was a modern myth that hid a shadow of a truth too ancient to name. The news reporters faltered and could not explain the strange phenomena that now engulfed the entire planet, from the countless strange creatures that now came out of hiding, to the march of the imperials who held the signs of the Crucified One.
"...Not long now, My little star," says gently the Pierce One who smiled at her.
Shokuhou trembled as she slowly gazed back at Him.
He continued. "...Have you not seen My son, Azariah? No one on your earth is like him, for that is why when you tried to peer into his mind, unlike before when you can do so with your own kind, you were not able to, and instead, through him, I brought you to Me, for I alone am the Master of the true human soul, one which your world had never truthfully known."
Shokuhou couldn't help but feel awe before the mystery. Yes, that was why Azariah felt different. It wasn't just because he knew too much. It was just that he was from a completely different species. True Humanity. One that could not be tampered with or could use their magic or esper powers, for that was beyond the reach of their intended faculties. But ironically, that is what kept them set apart. True Humanity itself was set apart, one that no one can dare cross without encountering the One who set them apart.
"Thus, I send My son, one of the members of My Body, to worlds that he did not originally belong to, through an indirect source that did not know Me through My Permissive Will, so that your world and eleven other worlds will finally know Me, as I Am, the GOD who loved you from Eternity." He said, gently.
Shokuhou felt the gravity of that very statement. She glanced back at the armed forces that mobilized through the streets in a silent liturgical procession. Her mind reeled and trembled before the Mystery that is shown. For the moment when Azariah started his journey, the forces of a Grand Army had been summoned by its' LORD, His centurions who came from an imperium republic, of whose shadow the various empires in existence had reflected imperfectly, now revealed in its purity and walked on Azariah's Earth in broad daylight. For the time had finally come, when twelve worlds and all of their timelines of past and future would truly know their Father-Forever.
This imperium was the Empire of the Most Sacred Eucharistic Heart. The Kingdom of GOD, which began when the One had finally descended to become Man, so that all creation will know... they were not abandoned, but made for something far more. Love. The source of all happiness.
"...No deaths. No hells. No gods." Shokuhou couldn't help but mutter a hallowed mantra that passed through her mind as she gazed at the Crucified One, whose Being shone like a Morning Star that smiled. That mantra was an ancient battle cry, one that was cried out by two-thirds of the loyal middle hidden natures when they were summoned to battle, when the Harrowing began at last, and their LORD led the charge.
There are no deaths. There are no hells. There are no gods. Quis ut Deus?
...She now realized, to her trembling heart, the utter significance. Her world, and eleven other worlds, will never be the same again after this. For Love is coming for them all. For the Descent into Hell never ended.
"...Not long now, My little star," says the Crucified One, gently reassuring her. "Lo Tedhal, for Your Father loves you forever and ever."
And... a Woman's voice, too motherly, too beautiful beyond all women, sang in tears of defiance like a Warrior-Queen, her arms outstretched like a Mediatrix of Mercy, passing through her like a fountain as she stood near the Agonizing Crucifix.
"Dahil mahal, mahal na mahal kita
Hindi ako matatakot, mahihiya
Anuman ang sabihin nila
Dahil mahal kita
(Because I love you, I love you so much
I won't be afraid, I won't be ashamed
No matter what they say
Because I love you)"
Shokuhou quietly trembled and turned pale as she heard the most beautiful voice of the Advocate of All Peoples, who sang for justice for all of Her children in these twelve worlds, and She was granted this request. Her voice complemented the endless march of the determined imperial stormtroopers. The same ancient race of middle hidden natures that once helped their LORD during the Harrowing of Hell, the Homo Tempus Clonizo now await the command to break through the worlds, for their Liberation draws near.
"Dahil mahal, mahal na mahal kita
Gagawin ko ang lahat
Pangako mo lang 'di ako iiwan
Dahil mahal
Mahal na mahal kita
(Because I love you, I love you so much
I will do everything
Just promise me you won't leave me
Because I love you, I love you so much)
Gagawin ko ang lahat
Pangako mo lang 'di ako iiwan
Dahil mahal
Mahal na mahal kita
(I will do everything
Just promise me you won't leave me
Because I love you, I love you so much)"
And as the Woman sang, the Spirit rushed over the kneeling Shokuhou like a gentle embracing breeze, making her lips tremble as her starry eyes gazed on the One who had made the stars twinkle with a Smile.
...Then, Shokuhou noticed that she was gently being led back to her reality. But...
"...Wa...Wait," she muttered with trembling lips, raising her arms up. She... didn't want to just leave. Not like this. It was... too painful. She finally felt peace that she had never had.
"...Not long now, My little star," says the Crucified One, gently and reassuring, holding her heart. "Your Father is always here, for you can pray to Me of anything, and I Am will always listen, for I Am always loves to hear your voice."
Shokuhou's lips trembled, and tears drew out from her starry eyes.
Then, gently, she was led down back into her own mind, her own body, and a soul, while different from a true descendant of Adam, nevertheless, it was still precious. For does the LORD not make all kinds of souls, just as there are countless anthropoid species?
...And then, she woke back to reality.
To everyone else, it was simply one instant. Her eyes and smile, instead of before, now looked... quietly haunted and sorrowful, complementing her face. She did not even bother with a facade. She lowered her remote to her lap. Everyone noticed. Azariah blinked in confusion, but he did not speak, because he immediately felt that something was wrong.
"...Queen?" Junko Hokaze asked, worried. "What's-"
But Shokuhou raised her right gloved hand and muttered softly. "...Junko, I... I need some air. You keep watch here for now." And she stood up and quietly walked towards the door, and headed outside.
"...Queen," Hokaze muttered, concerned.
"...Uh, what just happened?" Frenda was genuinely confused.
Asia... quietly felt something tugging at her heart. Something told her, like a gentle whisper. It was just like that time, when Asia saw the real Christ. She widened her eyes in recognition. She clutched Azariah's pocket Bible and quietly bowed her head in reverence. Azariah glanced at Asia, and... something told him that something had happened, just by Asia's quiet action. Azariah quietly bowed his head a little. He dares not ask what happened, because he suspected this was similar to Asia's case, and he has no right to inquire into it.
...Somewhere, in the umbrella shade of one of Tokiwadai's corners, there was Shokuhou, sitting on the chair.
Her mind was elsewhere. Her starry eyes were glancing at all of the things she could see. The simple grass. The simple materials that made up everything. The passerby of Tokiwadai students, but all she could focus on was... the fact that there were invisible personal guardian angels just present wherever these Tokiwadai students went. Shokuhou doesn't see them, but her sharp mind would know that they were there. Just as she, too, could be aware that she has her own personal guardian angel, but she never sees him.
Shokuhou knew too much. Her mind, which used to be her greatest weapon, just became the heaviest burden, but no longer a curse. How... How do you keep living on when you just met the Creator of your own breath? She... She couldn't imagine simply going back to how things were. She couldn't. She had kept her facade for so long in everything... but she couldn't keep her facade against the One who saw through the real her. It almost felt so ridiculous, looking at the entire dark side of the city from this perspective.
Shokuhou only knew the evils of humans. But she never knew what evil really was. It wasn't a being. It wasn't something. It was... nothing. That was the point. Evil never had anything. It was a joke. An abuse of free will. It started with the first one who became the Evil One. Then all other evils followed that inverted will, whether they knew it or not.
What was it like to be gazed at by the Creator? It was... It was something Shokuhou could never forget. Such a gaze just made all of the cold gazes of those old men in lab coats look so... puny. Shokuhou held the title of Queen of Tokiwadai, but she never realized... all rational beings were royalty. No inequality. The most royal of all races? The lowest. Humans. Not the humans of her planet. No, it was the real descendants of Adam and Eve. Azariah was one of them.
Shokuhou, who could manipulate minds, found herself not able to enter Azariah's. Instead of his mind, she was displaced towards somewhere, where she finally met the One whose tender gaze crafted her soul. True humans could never be either magicians or espers. Because they were not destined for that. They... were destined to be high priests, high prophets, and high kings of Creation, a much greater dignity compared to having superpowers. They, unlike Shokuhou and the humanity of her world, can offer Divine Acts and... for the One in Three to dwell in them so completely that they become temples.
...In a word, Shokuhou and her kind were never actually humans. No one on her planet was human. Questions that define what it means to be human... it all circled back to a Creator that nobody knew. It was He who defined what that was. A true human was something no creature could ever tamper with.
She thought she knew the dark side of humanity. But she knew absolutely nothing.
"...Why did you have to send me back here?" She complained a little, muttering softly, raising her starry eyes towards the bright blue skies, which felt too dull and unreal. She was... actually praying. For once. Praying was talking. And she was talking, knowing that He could clearly hear her. She... never even felt alone. But she couldn't see Him with her own eyes. Her senses hardly mattered here. But she knew He was there.
Her arms were crossed as she quietly closed her eyes, pondering over everything. She had far more intimate knowledge of her own world, told not by Azariah or by any random light novel author, but from the One who made it, the Great Architect of the Universe. She knew. She was trusted with this information too much.
...But that was the difference here.
Shokuhou trusted almost no one. Yet the One who created her trusted all of His creatures, giving them all kinds of gifts, whether in active or in permissive will.
"...You trusted me with this," she muttered, opening her eyes a little, but they were sad. She didn't even have a smile. Right now, she didn't feel like she was back home. She felt like this was exile, and everything she saw was an illusion. She looked back upwards at the sky. "...Alright, I'll...try to help your son. I...I'll do what I can."
And... a gentle smile pops into Shokuhou's own imagination, or rather, her imagination that pictured a memory too dear, making her bite her lips a little.
...She missed Him.
"...Wow, you look like you've been through hell."
Then, Shokuhou glanced towards her left, seeing that familiar brown chestnut-haired Mikoto Misaka, with one hand to her right waist, with a raised eyebrow. She walked into Misaka's line of sight like someone returning from a war that had no name because language itself breaks trying to describe it. Her posture is wrong for her—spine slack, shoulders surrendered, the Bee Queen's usual flawless emotional architecture in ruins.
Misaka notices immediately, because Misaka's whole personality is built on pretending she isn't paying attention when she really is. When she uttered that line, she meant it metaphorically, but for Shokuhou, that line hit too differently now. Shokuhou's eyes, not "dead" but displaced, like she's still partly standing in the ineffable world that burned away her illusions.
"...I suppose, in a way, I've seen hell for what it really was," she said. There's no flair, no smug curl of her lips. It is a confession. It is exhaustion. It is the first truthful sentence she has spoken in years.
Misaka freezes. The Bee Queen doesn't speak like this. Shokuhou has always curated her emotions like museum pieces—never this bare, never this unshielded.
"Huh? Are you really alright there, Shokuhou?" Misaka asks it with genuine concern but zero context, because she is still living inside Academy City's thin, brittle worldview. She has no preparation for the metaphysical rearrangement standing in front of her.
Shokuhou doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she studies Misaka quietly.
"…Honestly, no, not really," she said. The tiredness in that line carries weight. She is not just tired from trauma. She is tired because she has seen the First Cause—the LORD who is not "stronger" than esper powers but qualitatively beyond them, the One who does not compete with the created order but sustains it, moment by moment. "…You'd better sit down, there's a lot you want to know."
Mikoto Misaka has heard many things. She had seen many things. She had borne witness to what lay ahead, just a little bit, the ugly side of the city she grew up in. However, what she was hearing through Shokuhou's mouth was something... out of the ordinary. If it were just anybody else, Misaka would have just thought it was nonsense. But when Shokuhou, of all people, explains every single detail of... everything wrong, she can't help but pay attention.
She told her everything. All of the dark side corners. All of the Sisters Project. All of everything. She knew too much. Way too much. Including... that idiot. Touma Kamijou. Apparently, the idiot had amnesia because he tried to save Silver Sister, aka Index. Apparently, that idiot had been dragged into wars that she and Shokuhou never knew. Apparently, there was more.
Misaka couldn't normally dismiss this, especially when it was Shokuhou who explained all of this. Including... what she saw in this Azariah's head. No, not Azariah's head, not even in his head, somewhere else, looking at Someone else.
By the time everything was silent, Shokuhou was already sighing in silence, arms crossed as she muttered softly. "...So, what do you think?" Her tone was tired.
Misaka gulped a little, while she had only just now noticed her white hands clenching coldly. How... How can one even start to make sense of this? She muttered. "...What do I think?" She asked, dryly, but covering her weary tone. "...Honestly, I have no idea what to think."
Shokuhou chuckled, a little bitterly. "If it means anything, you were not the one who got the Otou-sama look from Tenshu-sama Himself, so how do you think I feel?"
Misaka leans on the back of her chair, groaning. "...Seriously, and we're gonna have to help this Azariah person, huh."
"...Not like you have a choice," Shokuhou muttered grimly. "Whatever's gonna happen, Misaka-san, all I can genuinely say is... the dark side is finished. It just doesn't know it's finished."
Misaka looked at her, grimly. The dark side. That painful side of the city caused pain to both of them. It was just... too hard to fully consider it. Not with how much power they've got.
"Am I supposed to worry about you acting like silver sister now?" Misaka asked, dryly, talking about a certain nun who was always with that spiky-haired idiot.
Shokuhou rolled her eyes a little, tired. "Oh please, Misaka-san, I'm... not that over-exaggerating."
"Just checking," Misaka muttered, before standing up and stretching a little. "Well, considering the info we've got, guess we'd better help this Azariah person out, since we owe him... or whatever his GOD is... actually telling us what's really going on with that idiot."
"I for one find it really hard to believe that you believe me that easily," Shokuhou muttered dryly, tired.
"Normally, I wouldn't take you for your word, but considering the things you're spouting, which you don't normally spout, I'm more than willing to hear you out at least. Besides..." she muttered, grimly. "If you're even half right about what you just said, we're gonna have to visit that idiot and get him to sit down for once and not go running off somewhere. I wanna hear it from his own mouth. And..." she glanced back at Shokuhou. "Maybe we could somehow find a way to get all of his memories back."
Shokuhou couldn't help but chuckle bitterly. "Don't you think I haven't tried that? I've tried to find something, anything, to get those memories back."
"Well... I'm not really one to actually give up until I find a way. How about you?" Misaka said, glancing at her.
"...I suppose not," Shokuhou muttered softly.
Song Begins: "Metamorphose" by Yoko Takahashi
...But then.
"...!"
Shokuhou widened her eyes, turning quietly pale. Misaka noticed, before looking at where she was looking. Misaka's eyes widened as well.
...Standing just a few meters away, there was a tall, older, handsome gentleman who looked to be around his 60s. No, this was no man. Shokuhou could tell immediately. Misaka, while not having the same experiences as Shokuhou, felt herself freezing before this... thing.
...He didn't feel like a man. He felt like a predator wearing human skin. His eyes were golden yet pale, cold pupils that sharpened to reveal his black snake-like irises. He had grey hair covered by a dark fedora hat. He wore an American 40s style of dark noir, formal detective attire, consisting of a dark trenchcoat, with a dark suit of blazer and pants, and a white collar with a black necktie. He had dark gloves on both of his hands, which were around his back, and dark socks covering his feet.
Misaka... felt like her sweat was dropping, as the atmosphere felt like it got colder. She looked to the ground and realized the man had no actual bodily shadow, confirming that he was not normal at all. That kind of gaze... it felt much crueler than even Accelerator's. This one was the kind of gaze that did not hesitate to whisper and inspire genocide, as if that was the law.
Misaka tried to talk back to it... But she couldn't. What was wrong with her? She couldn't shout. It was not that she couldn't do anything. It was just... she felt paralyzed by the gaze of someone who personified judgment in the opposite direction.
Shokuhou, shakily standing up, touches Misaka's shoulder, warning quietly. "...Misaka-san, that's...that's no man. That's... Evil."
Misaka raised an eyebrow. "What the heck do you mean, Shokuhou?"
Shokuhou glanced at the man standing by, never moving, yet eyed them curiously and coldly. She muttered softly. "...That's the Evil One's second-in-command, the First Fallen Cherub, Azazel."
Misaka widened her eyes, recalling their recent discussion, as she eyed the man again. Him? An actual... fallen? He... doesn't look dangerous. Like, with her Railgun, she could just flip him and be gone. But something told her not to be fooled by such a normal disguise.
She gritted her teeth. "...O...Oi, what the heck do you want?" Her knuckles were quietly emanating electricity. And yet, it felt like a dot compared to what this thing was.
The thing quietly narrowed his eyes at both of them. He never spoke to them. He just eyed them and did not waste words. The uneasy silence dragged on for a little longer.
...Why the hell is this thing not saying anything but watch them?
She tried to speak again, but the cold, predatory gaze made it quite hard to speak. What the hell do they even do? They can't just stand here and do nothing.
"...Why the heck is he just standing there?" Misaka, seeking answers, looked at Shokuhou, who bit her lips.
"...I think, his mere presence, is a statement," Shokuhou muttered softly, shaken and shuddering like a leaf. "...Real fallen do not waste words. They judge. That's why the Devil was called Ha-Satanas. We're looking at the judge."
"...But what is he judging us for? Judging us for what?" Misaka muttered, as she didn't like where this was going.
The old man kept watch either way, never bothering to elaborate. Another silence followed. Then, Misaka couldn't help but notice.
"Is it just me... or has time stopped completely?" Misaka spoke grimly.
"...You're not the only one," Shokuhou muttered, quietly pale.
The old man quietly kept staring at them both. Not uttering a word. The silence was quiet yet destabilizing and terrifying for both of the girls. Misaka tried to hide that fear. She had felt fear before, whenever she encountered Accelerator, but this felt... more existential. If not for something holding this thing back, he would have annihilated the two long ago. This cannot be random.
So this thing doesn't speak. Doesn't even attack. Doesn't even try to be intimidating. Just look at them both. Or rather, Misaka thought, glancing back at the pale Shokuhou. This thing, whatever it is, came for her.
Misaka tried to mutter in defiance, though it took a lot of effort of steel on her part, clenching her fists that sparked. "...I don't really get you, but if you want her, you'd have to get through me first."
The old man simply glanced at her. It was brief. But the way he glanced at her made Misaka feel the weight crushing down on her. He did not use any power. His entire being screamed authority. He sees her, like an open book, even her mind, even her lightning, even down to the least atomic structure that forms her entire body. This thing was a cold, calculating scientist, which was an impression Misaka got. A shivering thought passed through her mind. This is the thing that all of the shady scientists of Academy City had unknowingly been patterning themselves to.
"...Ne, Shokuhou," Misaka whispered, taking this opportunity since it's not like this thing looked like it was going to do anything against them. "What the heck do you mean by First Cherub? What's up with that?"
Shokuhou, careful in her tone, spoke grimly. "...First shall be last, last shall be first, that's the gold standard of the true hierarchy. This thing is, from what I understood, supposed to be the announcer of good news to... all of us."
The old man glanced meaningfully at Shokuhou. He never spoke, but he acknowledged that truth.
"...Now, it's...it's something else. Mystery becomes a curse. Good news becomes relative. Innocence becomes the scapegoats." She muttered grimly. "...Misaka-san, this thing is responsible for...genocide, on a scale I'd rather not want to think about."
Misaka flinched and quietly took that seriously, glancing back at the man... no, not a man, a monster. A monster that, if what Shokuhou said was true, literally everything, all communication, all goodness, all mysteries, it's him that's the traffic enforcer. What's good is good. What's evil is evil. This thing judges, and this thing decides, by not opening a mouth, but whispers through intelligence.
...Which meant that this thing has already set the dominoes moving, and whatever his plan is, it's multi-effective. A chessmaster, but before that very word even existed.
So, even if Misaka could, maybe, even if impossible, do something, there were already several things in play that could affect her, indirectly. So, what would this thing be used against her? Her parents. Her sisters. Her friends. All of it and more. Even... her own habits. Her quirks. All of it. A true analyst of the human psyche.
...And the stilled time lingered. Misaka and Shokuhou did not know how long this lasted. It felt like several hours had passed, even if such a thing no longer felt relevant. Misaka was quietly frustrated. She can't just stand here all day while this thing keeps looking at her. But her instincts were screaming not to, because if she even tries to attack, the attack itself would not even hit him, not even phase through him, because this being lay outside all things she could be familiar with, occupying a "space" she doesn't understand.
Misaka and Shokuhou glanced at each other. They needed to think of something.
"...Any actual ideas here?" Misaka muttered softly.
"...I could invoke Tenshu-sama's Name," Shokuhou muttered, with quiet reverence, referring to Christ's Name. But then, she noticed the old man's cold gaze, felt even colder when she suggested that. "...Though, if I did, this thing would not simply leave on the spot. His Name shouldn't be used as a simple problem-solving weapon, because if I simply do so... Azazel wins."
"You've got to be kidding me," Misaka was quietly muttering as her face was flinching, looking at the cold abomination.
Quietly, Shokuhou herself recalls.
"Not every one who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then will I declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you evildoers.'"
So, instead of doing the predictable, Shokuhou quietly felt that the best thing to really do is discern the Will of the Most High. You can say the Name, and it does drive demons like Azazel out. But the problem is, Azazel wouldn't just show up right in front of them without some kind of reason. It's not for Shokuhou's place to discern a fallen intellect's mind, for it is beyond her comprehension.
So why would the LORD permit her to encounter His fallen second son? This cannot be random. It's not merely because the monster would see her as a genuine threat. No, it was more than that. It wasn't about even distracting her and Misaka; that is irrelevant to the entire issue. What really made her extremely cautious was...
"...Wait," she muttered, widening her eyes, paling in realization.
"What?" Misaka glanced at her.
"...We were talking about what I've experienced earlier. We've even talked about... my prince..." Shokuhou muttered, looking quietly in silent terror at the old man who held her with a cold regard.
"What? You're telling me this thing wants something from that idiot?" Misaka asked, referring to one Touma Kamijou. That just made it even more personal, as she glanced with a quiet, defiant yet shaking glare at the old man.
"Not just that... what Azariah even told me... about the dark side of the city, how it's currently at war with each other, while most of Academy City is currently busy bolstering exterior defenses in preparation for a third world war," Shokuhou muttered grimly.
"...Wait," Misaka widened her eyes, quietly realizing the terrible implications. "You're telling me this thing just completely hijacked the tensions happening around the globe, and at the same time, what's happening on the dark side right now?"
"Not hijack," Shokuhou quietly corrected. "He's already the master of every war and conflict, Misaka-san. He's genocided entire civilizations far older than even ours for less. What he's doing right now... is modifying the battlefield to account for Azariah-san's interference, and I just so happen to be the first trigger."
"...So it all goes back to that Azariah person, huh?" Misaka grimaced a little, looking at Azazel, who acknowledged coldly Shokuhou's perspective.
A long silence followed. Eventually, Shokuhou quietly remembered. The Grand Army of I Am (GAIAM). She saw it. Recalling that vision of meeting the LORD Himself. The countless men in white armor who marched on the streets of Azariah's Earth's Vatican.
...Oh, of course. Shokuhou couldn't help but gulp. Of course, when the imperial armadas of the Empire of the Most Sacred Eucharistic Heart mobilize, Satan's primary lieutenant would have already set more dominoes. It recontextualizes all of the battles from here on out. A War so ancient, permeating across every point in aevum, in time, and in fallen time.
"...Not just that either, Misaka-san," Shokuhou muttered grimly. "This was long before Azariah. He's just the obvious pointer. He's no player in a chess conflict. Chess meant nothing to this War of Opposing Extremes, with no illusion of rivalry."
"What are you trying to say, Shokuhou?" Misaka asked carefully, paying attention.
"...Don't look at Azariah-san. Look at the Most High, who has other instruments in play instead of merely one, and there could have been more instruments playing before Azariah, the obvious instrument. Don't think of this conflict as chess. Think of it as liturgy and participation, not order vs chaos," Shokuhou muttered softly, which made Azazel quietly acknowledge her with cold calculation.
Shokuhou quietly stood her ground, speaking now, that sacred Name. But she did not use that precious Name of her Father to drive this demon out. No, she did something radical. "...In the Name of My Father, Iesous Christos, I belong to Him alone, not to you or to your master."
She personally gave herself to the Name who held her too dearly. She did not bother to debate with the monster about anything, nor would she bring her will into play, for that was futile. She'd bring instead, the ancient conviction that evil is nothing, and completely defeated. That was the only thing that really mattered here. Taking an actual concrete side and never conforming to neutrality.
She has no crucifix. But she formed it in her own heart.
Azazel's glare turned even colder, with a silent rage that could, if it wanted to, shake entire planetary systems and galactic clusters out of their axis. Misaka flinched at this sudden, colder visage. It was like... looking at something draconic, but worse. And yet, it carried... respect, in the twisted sense of the word.
The old man quietly placed his right hand to the center of his hat, his snake slits sharpened as his pale gold pupils, muttering coldly with the tip of his hat. "...We'll see about that, Daughter of the Most High...and of That Woman..."
Misaka flinched as she heard the monster finally speak. It sounded normal, but it carried... an entire tsunami that threatened to engulf everything. Her knees couldn't help but shake as she glanced back at Shokuhou, who stood her ground, not even reacting, just like hers. How the heck is this possible for Shokuhou to actually stand against this thing and say that to its face without flinching? Misaka didn't really understand.
Nevertheless, it's a blink, and the monster was no longer there. No sound effect. No warping of dimensions. No step. Just disappearance. Time now flowed normally. In the background, there were a few Tokiwadai students seen passing by that would indicate such. It was far too quiet. And Misaka didn't like where this was going.
"...Shokuhou," Misaka glanced at her, looking for answers while keeping herself steady. "What the heck did you just do?"
Shokuhou, paler than snow, quietly glanced at her and spoke grimly with a broken smile. "...For once in my life, I took a side."
Song End:
But right now...?
She observes quietly this young man who had groveled before her right in front of the entirety of Tokiwadai. That was... new. No one does that on the first meeting. Even more so, if this were just a simple dogeza, she might have dismissed it as a way to gain her favor, but there was something about this young man who performed this act and asked for help. The tone of his voice conveyed that he was essentially expecting nothing. That's not something people with intentions usually convey.
The first thing that Shokuhou did was ask him with her sharply steady voice, which covers her own uneasing discernment. "...Stand up."
He did so obediently, without noticing her thoughts. She looks him in the eye, discerning what she could from those brownish eyes of his. She looked and saw genuine surrender. That pricked her. His eyes were completely different from someone like Mikoto Misaka, who was more energetically charged and opinionated, on a similar contrasting level as Shokuhou, which often sparks conflict. But this young man's eyes were carrying nothing of the sort. It was the eyes of one who didn't look like it ever wanted to lie. Impossible, everyone keeps secrets about something, no one is this genuinely clean, lies make up a part of daily life, from little to greater. Secrets are the norm for Academy City, where even its power curriculum and its good intentions serves only as a means to an end. This man, however, did not feel like he'd fit the norm.
"Junko..." she muttered softly towards Junko Hokaze.
"...Yes, my Queen," Hokaze looked at her, being taken out of her own surprised mood. Not that Shokuhou could blame her, because this was quite intriguing yet unprecedented to experience a seemingly new janitor kneeling before Shokuhou.
"Contact Kobayashi. Tell them to put the rest of the girls on stand-by," she commanded softly, while her starry eyes remained locked on to this mysterious Azariah, who remained steady and awaited her judgment. "You, on the other hand, accompany me, just in case."
"O-Of course, my Queen," Hokaze nodded obediently, her face turning serious, yet glancing at Azariah one more time, his own humility drawing her own curiosity.
While Hokaze drew her attention to her phone, Shokuhou observed from all angles, spotting two unfamiliar middle school students. Both of them were blonde and foreign. One of them, she recognized, was Frenda Seivulun, an associate of a fellow Level 5, Mugino Shizuri, a.k.a. Meltdowner. The other, she could not recognize at all. She could tell that the two were staring at this mysterious Azariah. Associates perhaps? Likely. One of them, Frenda, looked like she was looking at an idiot, Azariah, in this case, probably. The other looked like... her expression was a strange one, holding both of her hands together in awe and contemplation.
Now, what would this Azariah be involved in that he was asking for her help? The dark side, perhaps? Likely, since Frenda is here, and is an associate of that hidden corner not known to most of Academy City. But Azariah's entire posture felt like Shokuhou herself was missing something vital in her psychoanalysis. His eyes were clear, intentionally surrendering to her analysis, as if he knew of her ability and surrendered anyway. There must be something she's missing here. People who knew of her ability would at least prepare a contingency of some kind. She could only recall that wretched old man, Gensei Kihara, back in Daihaisesai, who did had something in store for her, but of course she managed to go around in and turned the tables on him.
Now, what would this Azariah bring when confronting her?
After hearing Hokaze finish talking on her phone, the former informed her. "My Queen, I did as you asked."
"Thank you," Shokuhou smiled a little, yet her smile covered something subtler. Her eyes were locked onto Azariah, determined to spot anything that she could use to provide context with this encounter. "Azariah, yes?"
"Yes," Azariah nodded respectfully.
"...I'd assume you'd have plenty to talk about, however..." she glanced at the now stunned Tokiwadai students who were staring at Azariah. Their gossip was reduced to silence before a man who humbly groveled before the Queen of Tokiwadai. "...I suppose you probably wanted to discuss a certain thing in private, away from prying ears." She said, measuring her words carefully.
"Out of respect for all parties involved, yes, you are correct, my lady," Azariah spoke humbly.
"Oh, I see," Shokuhou muttered softly, carefully measuring him. Odd, he didn't mention anything about himself too directly. He generalized it to all parties, but he didn't say anything about himself. "Then, you wouldn't mind if I lead the way."
"Of course, my lady," Azariah said.
Shokuhou said gracefully. "Then, don't mind if I do. Oh, and..." She stopped walking a little and looked sideways. "...You can bring your associates with you, if you want."
"Of course, my lady," Azariah said.
Shokuhou had the urge to twitch her eyebrows, but kept her composure. Very compliant. Too surrendering. Too humble. And she wasn't even using her own ability to make him do this. She had to be careful here. No one can be this... this humble, at least not without good reason. Perhaps it has something to do with his own predicament. Nevertheless, she'd hear him out, but that didn't mean she trusted him. Nothing too personal. She has quite a few people she trusts, and even fewer people she could trust that she couldn't read their minds on, such as that spiky-haired idiot who no longer remembers her every single time.
But something about this Azariah was unsettling her. She didn't know why, nor does she have the full context. Perhaps she'd obtain it from this young man's explanation.
Shokuhou, along with her right-hand woman, quietly walked. Azariah, she saw, quietly gestured to the two associates with him to follow them.
...It was somewhere at least within the grounds of Tokiwadai. A private corner, one of many, that Shokuhou often uses in case she were to gather her clique together. On one side, there was Shokuhou, seated on the sofa with one of her legs crossed, with Hokaze standing nearby. On the other side, there was Azariah, who was sitting properly on the other end of the sofa, with his associates present on both left and right.
Frenda herself looked like she couldn't even believe how she even got here, all because of Azariah's actions. Shokuhou was both bemused and thoughtful because, in a sense, she couldn't blame Frenda. Azariah was quite interesting at first impression. It made Shokuhou no longer being able to rely on her usual tools of discernment.
Shokohou let the man start talking. He did so. He started to explain all that he knew.
"What I am about to say, my lady, is from unorthodox yet anonymous sources, thus even I alone cannot verify them without discerning them based on concrete facts," Azariah started the conversation with a respectful tone.
That was strangely interesting. He was essentially saying that the information he could share could not even be fully trusted, even when he revealed it. Normally, a person with information sets out to convince others of the truth of their argument. But here was this strange young man saying otherwise, open to the possibility that his sources could have errors, and therefore, absolute discernment is required, complementing even her own suspicions. This was a far cry from how Shokuhou's usual interactions with anything related to the dark side usually go.
Scientists in the city, paid to the brim with blood money, usually start and propose a specific theory that they have discovered and set out to give their evidence, seemingly fully convinced of the truth, when even Shokuhou herself could see that a lot of it happens to carry a trace of their hubris and personality. She has a sharp-edged mind to detect even the faintest lie. But Azariah did not do such a thing at all.
It was... frustrating, yet intriguing. She had not been this unsettled since... that one spiky-haired boy who saved her, though at least with him, Shokuhou can at least still tell and sort of keep up, a high school boy with a misfortunate right hand who does whatever he needs to do with no care for any opinion. Wreckless, yet her charming prince nonetheless. Azariah, on the other hand, was more... unpredictable, because she could not fit him inside a box. She could not detect any lie or trace of false humility. Nothing. A blank slate, yet more alive than most people in this city combined.
Who are you, Azariah? What do you hope to gain from this? She thought with quiet tact. Her ears were sharply attentive as his explanations tackled a specific sore spot. The dark side of this squeaky on the inside city of science. Right now, it's in the middle of a proxy cold conspiracy war that could potentially turn hot, and numerous people could get hurt, and that, of course, includes one of his associates, Frenda.
When he started explaining in thorough detail, Shokuhou glanced at a pale-looking Frenda. Oh, so she looked shocked? She, Frenda, did not expect this. Shokuhou took note of this minor detail. Azariah was no liar, and yet, his associate did not know the information he was currently sharing. Either they only just met, or Azariah did not share the information with her.
"...My associate, Frenda Seivulun, is currently on the run from the fourth Level 5 esper of Academy City, Shizuri Mugino," Azariah explained, and then he described even more intimate details, of how Frenda essentially betrayed her own team to save herself from the torture orchestrated by one Kakine Teitoku, the second Level 5 esper of Academy City, and from his own dark side group, School.
Azariah laid down the active players, the ones he knew at least. Group. Item. School. Block. Member. He talked about the possibility that there could be other dark side groups involved, but he wasn't completely sure. He talked about the known ones he's listed. Their battle strategies and plans. Their main intentions. The very sensitive and delicate information that even reached back to...
...The board chairman.
Azariah was not a normal person. To even mention the one on the top who is in charge of the sovereignty of the city-state made Shokuhou briefly freeze, before quietly mind running her thoughts. Who is this Azariah, and what does he actually know? Not just anyone could confidently mention someone like the board chairman, and even know the plans of assassination related to him. Azariah even explained how, ever since the chaos that was happening around the global fear of a third world war, with the city currently mobilizing it's exterior defenses, it's interior defenses are left at an extremely vulnerable state, and that's when the dark side groups finally come out in the open, to apply whatever agenda could be seen fit, depending on who's in charge.
At a certain point, Shokuhou became instantly aware of something. No, someone. Her right-hand woman. Junko Hokaze. She glanced at the latter, noticing her paler, conflicted expression. Shokuhou winced. Ah yes, she supposed that Hokaze, far as Shokuhou knew, had never been this exposed to the actual dark side of the city. There were close instances, certainly, but Hokaze never seemed to notice much, if at all. But this time, Hokaze was now dragged into the very thing that had quietly haunted Shokuhou for many years. Something that no one in Academy City should hear.
Shokuhou held up her right hand immediately "Wait," she said, and Azariah obeyed, as he too noticed with silent concern the pale expression of Hokaze. Shokuhou spoke up. "Junko."
Hokaze flinched a little, glancing at Shokuhou.
"This stays in this room. Just us. I do not want the rest of the clique to be in danger if this information gets out. Is that clear?" Shokuhou asked.
No, commanded. Because her concerns were justified, for she knew that Academy City had a darker tendency hidden under it, of its tenaciousness to target those who knew far too much and would be a potential threat to its overall integrity. It explains how oftentimes, Shokuhou would rearrange a few memories here and there for some people, plenty of them through Misaka's request, because of how dangerous the dark side truthfully was. Misaka and Shokuhou were opposites in the spectrum, but never let it be said that they were not ignorant of the darker side of the city. It was a hurtful truth that they both carried away, without needing to get all of their loved ones involved in any way.
"...Y...Yes, of course, my Queen," Hokaze nodded, though her face was still pale.
Shokuhou glanced at the silent Azariah and spoke softly. "For someone who claims that your sources are not to be trusted, you sure quite describe far too much."
"I do not mean to offend, of course, my lady," Azariah spoke humbly.
"No, no, it's fine," Shokuhou smiled, but it wasn't reaching her eyes. She waved her hand casually, but her hidden posture was tense as she placed her left leg to her right. "But, considering the information you're revealing, I'm more wondering about your personal safety, thus I could at least understand why you'd ask me and... Misaka-san... for help, if it means keeping you from getting shot down by a Level 5 who can spray you from the inside out."
"While I'm of course aware of the dangers to my own person, I'm more concerned at least for my associate, Frenda Seivelun-" Azariah explained, before Frenda herself cuts him off.
"Are you actually kidding me?!" Frenda couldn't help herself, as she looked at him like an absolute moron, panicking internally. "Forget me, you're practically a walking death magnet with that amount of information you're carrying around! I don't even know who's really the one being hunted, you or me!"
"Fair enough, but maybe we should focus back to a more proper civil discussion, considering we are not the only ones in this room," Azariah politely reminded Frenda while glancing at Shokuhou.
Shokuhou watched him, while her quiet, indecipherable smile lingered, raising her right hand as she spoke. "I would have to admit, your associate does have a point, not to mention, being even here at all is quite the risky move. You couldn't even place this information into either Judgment or Anti-Skill, but you revealed it first to me? Why? I know you gave me your reasons, such as your associate, Seivelun-san, but truthfully, what is it you really seek, from either me or from Misaka-san?"
Azariah was thoughtful before eventually speaking up again. "If you wish, my lady, you can read my mind if you want to verify."
Shokuhou narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Oh? And why should I?"
Azariah quietly breathes a heavy sigh, before speaking up again. "...I have information on Kamijou Touma, the boy who lost memories of you one year ago, if I'm not mistaken."
"...!"
Shokuhou widened her eyes. She felt a cold shiver ran down her spine.
"...Queen?" Hokaze looked at her, concerned yet confused, as she noticed her expression.
"...Uhh, okay, who?" Frenda blinked a little, confused.
"Umm, who is Kamijou-san, if I may ask?" says Asia, who was also confused and frowning, looking at Azariah.
Azariah smiled sadly, saying. "That's really not my secret to tell, Asia, it's something most people don't need to hear, I'm sorry."
Asia immediately reassured kindly yet attentively. "Ah, no, do not worry, Azariah-san, I understand if such things should not be talked about."
"...You," Shokuhou muttered, twitching as the urge to go through her bags to get a remote was severely tempting. Her eyes were locked onto him now. No one... No one should know the actual connection between her and that spiky-haired boy who protected her from one year ago. No one should know Touma Kamijou's connection with her. Not even Misaka knew. "...You know far too much, Azariah-san," Shokuhou muttered, her tone was now a little cold, masking her caution and quiet terror.
Who is this person? What does he know about her prince that she possibly never knew? Did he know her prince? If so, what was he actually hiding underneath that mind of his. A part of her thought not to even try; this could be a bait and switch to let her guard down. On the other hand, this is the first time she hears about someone talking about her prince to her. The first time. Not even someone like Gensei Kihara ever used that kind of leverage. But Azariah had this information, but he never seemed to treat it like leverage.
No, he just told the truth. Plain and simple. She still didn't detect any lie. A hope of a miracle was quietly forming again in her heart. Her desire for her prince to remember her again. Her face masked her sense of heaviness.
Azariah never responded to her. He simply looked back and waited for her decision.
"...Ara, nothing to say about that remark?" Shokuhou smiled, yet held a quiet contingency back from her mind.
"...Whatever you do is up to you, my lady," Azariah explained calmly, yet humbly.
There it was again. That blasted humility. Alright, fine, she would humor him a little. She quietly reached out for her handbag while muttering. "Junko." And Junko Hokaze would immediately glance at her, somehow understanding the signal.
They don't know what could happen, so at least Hokaze was here when something needed a little more physical. Now she had even less of a reason to trust Azariah, or rather, to trust in Azariah by relying on her own thought pattern. The problem wasn't his information; it was the way he was handling this conversation by not taking control. But this man was no doormat; he was fully aware of his decisions while keeping distance from her respectfully. He was ready for her to take over his mind, and he surrendered completely his will to her.
It was unnatural. Vexing even. It felt like this man was completely denying his own independent autonomy. She could get the hesitation at least, the fear of your mind being tampered with, but Azariah never seemed to show any of that. He just surrendered and waited.
Shokuhou quietly grabbed her remote and pointed at him. Frenda twitched, even though she wasn't the one who would get her mind entered. Asia glanced only towards Azariah, fully trusting him.
Shokuhou smile, but it wasn't a genuine one. "Are you quite sure you want me to do this? You don't have any second thoughts?"
"No," Azariah shook his head. "I trust you, my lady."
Shokuhou twitched her smile, a pinch from her own heart, and yet she did not show it. "Oho~ Offering trust to someone he hasn't met yet? You're quite reckless, Azariah-san."
"No, my lady," Azariah spoke quietly, looking at her in the eye. "Rather, I do not wish to live in fear; it is never a way to live."
Frenda couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Shokuhou couldn't help but be intrigued by the answer, though she covered it with her cutesy tone. "...Ara, that's quite an interesting perspective. But unfortunately, it's not something that's practical when you have that kind of information."
"Is practicality a shield, or a chain, my lady?" Azariah explained humbly. "Because I personally think it's both. When taken too far, it can just end up feeling enchained to an isolation, turning into the self, not to the other."
Shokuhou became silent. She frowned inwardly while never letting it show through her smile. "...Alright, you got my attention, then... here, I, go," she said, as she pressed a button.
...Now entering his mind.
...Right now, she had entered the mind of this person.
...No wait, that was not right. She was no longer sitting on the sofa, for instance. She was somewhere, but she did not know where. She was standing up, without even lifting herself up. She blinked. Looking at the place, it was a forest of some kind, with a fog that was not ominous, but complementary to the nature surrounding it. She ended up somewhere that wasn't even Azariah's own mind. It was somewhere else.
An open space of memories. A World of some kind. It was not Azariah himself. It was a Paradise. She glances and can see the flowing memories, like a river, of vast memories of one Azariah. All of his thoughts were hers to access. No, that was not accurate. There were some things she could not truthfully decipher. His real name, for instance, was something she could not access. It was not because she was being resisted by the young man. No, this was not even his own mind. This was a place completely independent from even the mind itself, a place reserved like a precious chest of memories, of not only Azariah, but numerous souls without end.
Someone was keeping her from accessing truthfully the entirety of Azariah's memories. Because it was not yet time, an inkling thought passed through her mind like a gentle wind. That made her shiver. What was this place? Her arms lifted to her chest, as if feeling not the cold but a gentle breeze that made her stand up a little straighter, and her mind rapidly paid attention to every detail she could see.
Her starry eyes glanced ahead, and looked. She could see the rivers of Azariah's childhood days, devoted to... God... no, not that. Not a God she would be vaguely familiar wit,h as something that people outside Academy City think. Not Kami. Not kamis. But Tenshu-sama.
Most of the memories she could see, as she walked towards it with caution, were too ordinary, too unimportant in the grand scheme of things. It did not even reek of a member of the dark side of Academy City. No, it was far too normal, showcasing a happier childhood, with two loving parents; his father looked foreign, and his mother looked Japanese. A practicing Catholic family. No, not like her world's Roman Catholic Church. This one felt... both ordinary and stranger.
Information that was never worth anything, if any dark side member ever sees it.
She looked at the memories, waving like gentle seas, as she now spotted memories of hundreds of Holy Masses within this young man's lifetime, which he attended. But, when she looked at them all, she felt seen, flinching grievously, her mouth couldn't dare draw the right words. No words were worthy, for only the priests of these memories were worthy to say the words.
"Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is My Body, which will be given up for you."
And as these priests lifted them up, no matter what time this took place in, quietly, at the same time, gentle songs of majesty echoed, from the song of angels. No, not merely angels, for angel meant messenger. There were Nine Orders. Nine Choirs. Invisible to her. Yet, there were so many that the numbers cannot contain them. No words could contain them, for all words could only be pointers, not specifics. The true holy ones who sang throughout aeviternity, who quietly took the form of spheres upon spheres of clouds full of prismic rainbow lights as they sing:
"Sa daigdig ang buhay ay ganyan
(That is how life is in this world)
Mayroong ligaya at lumbay
(There is joy and sadness both)
Maghintay at may nakalaang bukas
(Wait, for a tomorrow has been prepared)."
Shokuhou felt her breath pitched. Her heart stopped completely. A simple gesture, of priests holding up a simple circular Bread, now there was gushing forth streaming rays of blood and pale water, brighter than even the earthly sun. An Uncreated Light that does not scorch. Gentler winds that came from the Hosts were embracing her, blowing even her clothing. But it wasn't like the winds that blew her skirt. No, that felt like a counterfeit before a wind too gentle that no perversion would dare walk too.
She felt... too exposed, and yet she could not run. Where was she even going to run to? It felt like these rays were engulfing all things. All things. There was no escape. Yet, it gave her such peace that no diplomacy could ever truthfully attain. Her mind, sharpened with trauma and paranoia, no longer mattered when these same sharpened senses and mind were totally aware instead of an all-encompassing presence that held all things, and offering an eternal sunrise.
This wasn't purity. It was Holy. This wasn't power. It was Just. This wasn't cruelty. It was Mercy Itself. Her knees were trembling before these Hosts, united despite the separation of all of these memories, for the One who was present in all of them is beyond time and aevum itself. He is Eternity Itself.
As the rays shone, they showed her more memories of Azariah, like the One delighted in them far more in even the ordinary.
A simple basketball game here between a young Azariah and his father, who teaches him the sport, with smiles on both of their faces, their sweat dropping with each exercise of their body.
Another memory of a young Azariah who was quietly kneeling in the confessional box with a prayerful, solemn attitude, confessing thoroughly after having examined it all. A priest spiritual director, who looked Japanese, after giving counsel, gently raised his hand and recited the absolution, and when he said this as he made the Sign of the Cross, the same rays from the Hosts were seen penetrating into Azariah in ways that not even Shokuhou could understand.
Numerous memories, when half of the entire day was spent studying, not for good grades, but of a will that wanted to learn, that was Azariah. Nobody special, just a boy who studies, from elementary school, middle school, high school, up to his university days. Right beside the table he uses in his studies was the statue of a saint, Thomas Aquinas.
Another memory, of a time when Azariah was quietly playing a PS% game with a friend named Richard.
Then, more memories. Too many ordinary memories to count. Yet they shone with a brilliance, like suns that were held like values of divine acts.
But what really made her pay close attention were these same rays of blood and water penetrating into something called: A Certain Magical Index.
She couldn't even blink. Her shock was already filling her heart, but it was a different kind of shock. She no longer felt in control of the situation. It was not that she lost her will. It was just that she was totally aware, because she was made aware by the One whose multi-layered rays of blood and water engulfed into the fabric of her own World. It was the One, instead of Azariah's own thoughts, who showed her the full truth of her own World, one not covered in any light novel, but as how the Logos saw it with His own eyes, for He was the One who created her World, not a mere light novel author.
She was shown a new side of her own World, but she shuddered in a quiet horror as her World was reeked with death, divided artificially by magic and by science, with various individuals forgotten. Not just in Academy City, but throughout her planet Earth, innocent deaths were everywhere, almost every single day, and she felt a tremendous grief coming from the One who watched all of this, seeing His own children slaughtered, not just in mere bodily death, but broken to the point where their own dreams were discarded.
She could see her own life, her own past, and possible futures. She could see Misaka's own past, and her possible futures. She could see everything. But the strangest thing was that it did not feel too overwhelming. It felt too gentle. Like the limits of memory did not matter, for this was not her brain storing it; it was the One who held every precious memory, even the ones forgotten, for nothing was forgotten.
But that was what terrified Shokuhou. She felt too seen. Herself. Her World. All of it. Including her own precious dreams of a miracle. No, a miracle? She never truly understood it until right now. She was looking at the One who started at all miracles, and continues to do so, as seen in the governance of creation itself. Even existence. Even free will. Even intellect. She could even feel her scientific knowledge flicker as she was shown numerous possibilities that she could never even dream of. Mathematics and sciences, stripped of opinions and contamination, were shown their glowing purity radiating into the most logical sets that had yet to be written on scientific papers. She was offered gifts. She did not merit them. It was given.
Her own knowledge of human psychology, bolstered and updated to a degree that she could never dare to contemplate. The study of its branch, stripped of its cold rational gaze, and instead, a Loving Gaze which grieved and wanted the whole being to live without the death of the mind, especially the soul and the spirit.
"...Who...are you?" She muttered, trembling like a leaf, her starry eyes now looking at the Hosts that are One, shining brightly.
And, after a quiet hush from the nine orders, unexpectedly, the One answered, but she could feel a Smile as warm as the Morning gazing on her. "...Your Father, My little star."
And the moment He said that, she couldn't help but drop to her knees, gazing on Someone that she could not comprehend, yet it was far too gentle. She had tried to pierce the mind of a man, Azariah, who knew too much. But what she found instead was not his thoughts, but Someone else's intimate thoughts that poured into her mind, which all came from the never-ending flames of a Sacred Heart.
This was not like Kamijou's protectiveness and defiance. It was far too intimate, in a way she could hardly know or understand. A Divine Parent who is One in Three, and because of that, multiplicity, plurality, diversity, and infinity were possible, for nothing is impossible. She felt the gaze of One who was genuinely happy to see her. The real her. She could not dare to speak up before this Presence that completely overtook her spirit into somewhere that was not even Azariah's mind, but somewhere that was a Paradise.
And what arose out of the veil, and even the fog respectfully dispersed in worship, was... an Agonizing Crucifix, that held a Man of Sorrows, with Five Wounds shining, and on the very cross were the words: I Am the Agonizing Jesus Christ Who Loves You.
Her starry eyes widened before the gentle, wounded gaze of the Man-God.
"...You are not fiction, My little star," says the One who always loved her, and as He said that, Shokuhou's own memory of her tragedy, of crouching next to a younger Kamijou from one year ago, which was the day she unintentionally caused him to lose his memories of her every single time. Her pain was not unseen, because only One saw it too clearly. His smile expressed it as He muttered gently. "You are mine, for My Heart is always yours."
And, the nine choirs sang, to complement their LORD's words:
"May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)
Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)."
Shokuhou trembled before the Ancient of Days, and the song that echoed like it was before even her own time. She couldn't dare utter a word, for all words bowed before the Logos. She looked and beheld a Pierced One who looked at her, all of her, including her life, too tenderly and knew all of her intimate thoughts and her heart. And yet, she felt no intrusion of privacy. It was always this. He was always there. Privacy was an illusion that never truthfully existed under His gentle gaze, for it is because of that gaze that there even is such a thing.
"Ang iyong pagdaramdam
(Your sorrow)
Idalangin mo sa Maykapal
(Offer it in prayer to the Almighty)
Na sa puso mo ay mawala nang lubusan
(That it may vanish fully from your heart)."
She couldn't defy Him. Not because He was strong, but because He descended down into her own level, in weakness. She was reduced to quiet tears before Someone who even now never coerces her will. She couldn't even deny what she was seeing. She could not rationalize this away. She was staring before Him, completely exposed. She couldn't articulate a word, nor would she dare to, for in fear of offending this Love that loved her too much and held her entire being. She felt like a little girl, all over again, but this time, no longer under the gaze of cruel scientists, but the One who gave Reason as a gift.
Her World... felt so dead now. So pathetic. Now that she gazed into the Crucified One. Her... Father... the Father of All Espers.
"...What...do you want with me?" she muttered, like a shaking leaf before the gentle wounded Hand.
Instead of responding with words, the All-Father of All Things gently pulled a little more out of the veil. He showed her an Earth, not like her own, but the Earth where Azariah came from. No, it was not merely just that. She saw, apart from other humans walking around every corner, strange creatures.
She could see hundreds of daimonic species, with horns speaking of authority instead of mere aesthetics, who remain hidden or walk through the same spatial locations but from different layers of metaphysical dimensions. All of them acknowledged an Authority who is also their Father. All of them gather around Sunday Masses, unseen, where they watch in reverence and worship; how the LORD of All Daimons works His miracles into the lowest rational form of life that is man in every Mass. The Mass was not an amphitheater for the daimons. It was a royal feast. And all daimons bowed their heads in reverence before such mysteries.
Then, she beholds more strange creatures, such as the Bigfoot-like species, with their brown fur coat-like hairs, which roam through the forests of America and Europe in layers too invisible to the naked eye.
From the skies, she saw gigantic atom-like sentient structures that roam and hover across the night skies in perfect formation, what Scripture had hinted at when it gives an expression, Host of Heaven. It was not merely referring to the angels of the LORD, for every word expression is simply a pointer. And every word that points to the angels also expresses a particular species. These sentient atoms were on such beings.
Then, so many more, from multiple beings with many legs and eyes, up to familiar hominids like a variant of resembling Cro-Magnons, to a luminous being that could have been mistaken for God, but said luminous being hinted at from Genesis when it spoke of Light and Darkness being good; said luminous being did not want to be mistaken for the Creator and instead hid itself completely in fearful reverence. Beings of urban legends and myths. No, the common understanding of such terms was woefully inadequate. Myth and Legend were not mere falsehood or mere fantasy. It simply meant trying to translate experiences that could not even be perfectly grasped.
And yet... all of these creatures and more, they were now stepping in out of the veil of this Earth, now showing themselves to the humans of this Earth. Why? Because she saw a sight that she could never unshake.
She sees... an immaculate white armored army of men that marched throughout the streets of the Vatican with silent conviction, holding black AK-47-shaped rifles in one of their arms, which held the inscriptions on the side: "IC XC NIKA" and "888". They held sturdy shields with their other hand, which held the inscriptions of "YHWH", "Chi-Rho embelisshed in Alpha and Omega symbols" and the "Most Sacred Heart" on them.
Their white armor bore the color markings of pure red, which signified the Passover of the Lamb. Their helmets held rounded fins and T-shaped black visors, as if recalling the Tau and the Nehustan that signified the Promise of Salvation. These men who marched were imperial guard stormtroopers, cloned from dust which came from heavens, earths, and under the earths. A middle hidden nature species called the Homo Tempus Clonizo. A true temporal species who predated even Adam himself by countless aevums. Their armor bears the inscriptions of: "YHWH", "Chi-Rho embelisshed in Alpha and Omega symbols", and "Most Sacred Heart" on their chests. Their shoulders, holding the color markings of the same Passion of Christ.
Some of these men lifted up banners which held the words: "YHWH", "IC XC NIKA", and the "Most Sacred Heart". Some lifted up a flag that held the colors of white and gold, with a smiling Sun in the left corner. It held the inscriptions of "YHWH", "IC XC NIKA", and the "Most Sacred Heart"
Shokuhou felt her entire breath taken away completely at the sheer massive size of this army. Her starry eyes could even look upward and see the same men, who flew through the skies with powered exoskeletons and silver wings.
Her eyes looked at the crowds of people, natives of Italy, as well as tourists and pilgrims from foreign countries, within the streets, speechless and turned dumb, for they all couldn't say a word at the strange phenomena that walked through their streets. Even the young ones who carried their cellphones and other social media platform gadgets and equipment were trembling as they could not even make a single meta-joke because these men bore a heavy, uncanny resemblance to a movie franchise that spoke of a galaxy far, far away. But little did most know that this was a modern myth that hid a shadow of a truth too ancient to name. The news reporters faltered and could not explain the strange phenomena that now engulfed the entire planet, from the countless strange creatures that now came out of hiding, to the march of the imperials who held the signs of the Crucified One.
"...Not long now, My little star," says gently the Pierce One who smiled at her.
Shokuhou trembled as she slowly gazed back at Him.
He continued. "...Have you not seen My son, Azariah? No one on your earth is like him, for that is why when you tried to peer into his mind, unlike before when you can do so with your own kind, you were not able to, and instead, through him, I brought you to Me, for I alone am the Master of the true human soul, one which your world had never truthfully known."
Shokuhou couldn't help but feel awe before the mystery. Yes, that was why Azariah felt different. It wasn't just because he knew too much. It was just that he was from a completely different species. True Humanity. One that could not be tampered with or could use their magic or esper powers, for that was beyond the reach of their intended faculties. But ironically, that is what kept them set apart. True Humanity itself was set apart, one that no one can dare cross without encountering the One who set them apart.
"Thus, I send My son, one of the members of My Body, to worlds that he did not originally belong to, through an indirect source that did not know Me through My Permissive Will, so that your world and eleven other worlds will finally know Me, as I Am, the GOD who loved you from Eternity." He said, gently.
Shokuhou felt the gravity of that very statement. She glanced back at the armed forces that mobilized through the streets in a silent liturgical procession. Her mind reeled and trembled before the Mystery that is shown. For the moment when Azariah started his journey, the forces of a Grand Army had been summoned by its' LORD, His centurions who came from an imperium republic, of whose shadow the various empires in existence had reflected imperfectly, now revealed in its purity and walked on Azariah's Earth in broad daylight. For the time had finally come, when twelve worlds and all of their timelines of past and future would truly know their Father-Forever.
This imperium was the Empire of the Most Sacred Eucharistic Heart. The Kingdom of GOD, which began when the One had finally descended to become Man, so that all creation will know... they were not abandoned, but made for something far more. Love. The source of all happiness.
"...No deaths. No hells. No gods." Shokuhou couldn't help but mutter a hallowed mantra that passed through her mind as she gazed at the Crucified One, whose Being shone like a Morning Star that smiled. That mantra was an ancient battle cry, one that was cried out by two-thirds of the loyal middle hidden natures when they were summoned to battle, when the Harrowing began at last, and their LORD led the charge.
There are no deaths. There are no hells. There are no gods. Quis ut Deus?
...She now realized, to her trembling heart, the utter significance. Her world, and eleven other worlds, will never be the same again after this. For Love is coming for them all. For the Descent into Hell never ended.
"...Not long now, My little star," says the Crucified One, gently reassuring her. "Lo Tedhal, for Your Father loves you forever and ever."
And... a Woman's voice, too motherly, too beautiful beyond all women, sang in tears of defiance like a Warrior-Queen, her arms outstretched like a Mediatrix of Mercy, passing through her like a fountain as she stood near the Agonizing Crucifix.
"Dahil mahal, mahal na mahal kita
Hindi ako matatakot, mahihiya
Anuman ang sabihin nila
Dahil mahal kita
(Because I love you, I love you so much
I won't be afraid, I won't be ashamed
No matter what they say
Because I love you)"
Shokuhou quietly trembled and turned pale as she heard the most beautiful voice of the Advocate of All Peoples, who sang for justice for all of Her children in these twelve worlds, and She was granted this request. Her voice complemented the endless march of the determined imperial stormtroopers. The same ancient race of middle hidden natures that once helped their LORD during the Harrowing of Hell, the Homo Tempus Clonizo now await the command to break through the worlds, for their Liberation draws near.
"Dahil mahal, mahal na mahal kita
Gagawin ko ang lahat
Pangako mo lang 'di ako iiwan
Dahil mahal
Mahal na mahal kita
(Because I love you, I love you so much
I will do everything
Just promise me you won't leave me
Because I love you, I love you so much)
Gagawin ko ang lahat
Pangako mo lang 'di ako iiwan
Dahil mahal
Mahal na mahal kita
(I will do everything
Just promise me you won't leave me
Because I love you, I love you so much)"
And as the Woman sang, the Spirit rushed over the kneeling Shokuhou like a gentle embracing breeze, making her lips tremble as her starry eyes gazed on the One who had made the stars twinkle with a Smile.
...Then, Shokuhou noticed that she was gently being led back to her reality. But...
"...Wa...Wait," she muttered with trembling lips, raising her arms up. She... didn't want to just leave. Not like this. It was... too painful. She finally felt peace that she had never had.
"...Not long now, My little star," says the Crucified One, gently and reassuring, holding her heart. "Your Father is always here, for you can pray to Me of anything, and I Am will always listen, for I Am always loves to hear your voice."
Shokuhou's lips trembled, and tears drew out from her starry eyes.
Then, gently, she was led down back into her own mind, her own body, and a soul, while different from a true descendant of Adam, nevertheless, it was still precious. For does the LORD not make all kinds of souls, just as there are countless anthropoid species?
...And then, she woke back to reality.
To everyone else, it was simply one instant. Her eyes and smile, instead of before, now looked... quietly haunted and sorrowful, complementing her face. She did not even bother with a facade. She lowered her remote to her lap. Everyone noticed. Azariah blinked in confusion, but he did not speak, because he immediately felt that something was wrong.
"...Queen?" Junko Hokaze asked, worried. "What's-"
But Shokuhou raised her right gloved hand and muttered softly. "...Junko, I... I need some air. You keep watch here for now." And she stood up and quietly walked towards the door, and headed outside.
"...Queen," Hokaze muttered, concerned.
"...Uh, what just happened?" Frenda was genuinely confused.
Asia... quietly felt something tugging at her heart. Something told her, like a gentle whisper. It was just like that time, when Asia saw the real Christ. She widened her eyes in recognition. She clutched Azariah's pocket Bible and quietly bowed her head in reverence. Azariah glanced at Asia, and... something told him that something had happened, just by Asia's quiet action. Azariah quietly bowed his head a little. He dares not ask what happened, because he suspected this was similar to Asia's case, and he has no right to inquire into it.
...Somewhere, in the umbrella shade of one of Tokiwadai's corners, there was Shokuhou, sitting on the chair.
Her mind was elsewhere. Her starry eyes were glancing at all of the things she could see. The simple grass. The simple materials that made up everything. The passerby of Tokiwadai students, but all she could focus on was... the fact that there were invisible personal guardian angels just present wherever these Tokiwadai students went. Shokuhou doesn't see them, but her sharp mind would know that they were there. Just as she, too, could be aware that she has her own personal guardian angel, but she never sees him.
Shokuhou knew too much. Her mind, which used to be her greatest weapon, just became the heaviest burden, but no longer a curse. How... How do you keep living on when you just met the Creator of your own breath? She... She couldn't imagine simply going back to how things were. She couldn't. She had kept her facade for so long in everything... but she couldn't keep her facade against the One who saw through the real her. It almost felt so ridiculous, looking at the entire dark side of the city from this perspective.
Shokuhou only knew the evils of humans. But she never knew what evil really was. It wasn't a being. It wasn't something. It was... nothing. That was the point. Evil never had anything. It was a joke. An abuse of free will. It started with the first one who became the Evil One. Then all other evils followed that inverted will, whether they knew it or not.
What was it like to be gazed at by the Creator? It was... It was something Shokuhou could never forget. Such a gaze just made all of the cold gazes of those old men in lab coats look so... puny. Shokuhou held the title of Queen of Tokiwadai, but she never realized... all rational beings were royalty. No inequality. The most royal of all races? The lowest. Humans. Not the humans of her planet. No, it was the real descendants of Adam and Eve. Azariah was one of them.
Shokuhou, who could manipulate minds, found herself not able to enter Azariah's. Instead of his mind, she was displaced towards somewhere, where she finally met the One whose tender gaze crafted her soul. True humans could never be either magicians or espers. Because they were not destined for that. They... were destined to be high priests, high prophets, and high kings of Creation, a much greater dignity compared to having superpowers. They, unlike Shokuhou and the humanity of her world, can offer Divine Acts and... for the One in Three to dwell in them so completely that they become temples.
...In a word, Shokuhou and her kind were never actually humans. No one on her planet was human. Questions that define what it means to be human... it all circled back to a Creator that nobody knew. It was He who defined what that was. A true human was something no creature could ever tamper with.
She thought she knew the dark side of humanity. But she knew absolutely nothing.
"...Why did you have to send me back here?" She complained a little, muttering softly, raising her starry eyes towards the bright blue skies, which felt too dull and unreal. She was... actually praying. For once. Praying was talking. And she was talking, knowing that He could clearly hear her. She... never even felt alone. But she couldn't see Him with her own eyes. Her senses hardly mattered here. But she knew He was there.
Her arms were crossed as she quietly closed her eyes, pondering over everything. She had far more intimate knowledge of her own world, told not by Azariah or by any random light novel author, but from the One who made it, the Great Architect of the Universe. She knew. She was trusted with this information too much.
...But that was the difference here.
Shokuhou trusted almost no one. Yet the One who created her trusted all of His creatures, giving them all kinds of gifts, whether in active or in permissive will.
"...You trusted me with this," she muttered, opening her eyes a little, but they were sad. She didn't even have a smile. Right now, she didn't feel like she was back home. She felt like this was exile, and everything she saw was an illusion. She looked back upwards at the sky. "...Alright, I'll...try to help your son. I...I'll do what I can."
And... a gentle smile pops into Shokuhou's own imagination, or rather, her imagination that pictured a memory too dear, making her bite her lips a little.
...She missed Him.
"...Wow, you look like you've been through hell."
Then, Shokuhou glanced towards her left, seeing that familiar brown chestnut-haired Mikoto Misaka, with one hand to her right waist, with a raised eyebrow. She walked into Misaka's line of sight like someone returning from a war that had no name because language itself breaks trying to describe it. Her posture is wrong for her—spine slack, shoulders surrendered, the Bee Queen's usual flawless emotional architecture in ruins.
Misaka notices immediately, because Misaka's whole personality is built on pretending she isn't paying attention when she really is. When she uttered that line, she meant it metaphorically, but for Shokuhou, that line hit too differently now. Shokuhou's eyes, not "dead" but displaced, like she's still partly standing in the ineffable world that burned away her illusions.
"...I suppose, in a way, I've seen hell for what it really was," she said. There's no flair, no smug curl of her lips. It is a confession. It is exhaustion. It is the first truthful sentence she has spoken in years.
Misaka freezes. The Bee Queen doesn't speak like this. Shokuhou has always curated her emotions like museum pieces—never this bare, never this unshielded.
"Huh? Are you really alright there, Shokuhou?" Misaka asks it with genuine concern but zero context, because she is still living inside Academy City's thin, brittle worldview. She has no preparation for the metaphysical rearrangement standing in front of her.
Shokuhou doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she studies Misaka quietly.
"…Honestly, no, not really," she said. The tiredness in that line carries weight. She is not just tired from trauma. She is tired because she has seen the First Cause—the LORD who is not "stronger" than esper powers but qualitatively beyond them, the One who does not compete with the created order but sustains it, moment by moment. "…You'd better sit down, there's a lot you want to know."
Mikoto Misaka has heard many things. She had seen many things. She had borne witness to what lay ahead, just a little bit, the ugly side of the city she grew up in. However, what she was hearing through Shokuhou's mouth was something... out of the ordinary. If it were just anybody else, Misaka would have just thought it was nonsense. But when Shokuhou, of all people, explains every single detail of... everything wrong, she can't help but pay attention.
She told her everything. All of the dark side corners. All of the Sisters Project. All of everything. She knew too much. Way too much. Including... that idiot. Touma Kamijou. Apparently, the idiot had amnesia because he tried to save Silver Sister, aka Index. Apparently, that idiot had been dragged into wars that she and Shokuhou never knew. Apparently, there was more.
Misaka couldn't normally dismiss this, especially when it was Shokuhou who explained all of this. Including... what she saw in this Azariah's head. No, not Azariah's head, not even in his head, somewhere else, looking at Someone else.
By the time everything was silent, Shokuhou was already sighing in silence, arms crossed as she muttered softly. "...So, what do you think?" Her tone was tired.
Misaka gulped a little, while she had only just now noticed her white hands clenching coldly. How... How can one even start to make sense of this? She muttered. "...What do I think?" She asked, dryly, but covering her weary tone. "...Honestly, I have no idea what to think."
Shokuhou chuckled, a little bitterly. "If it means anything, you were not the one who got the Otou-sama look from Tenshu-sama Himself, so how do you think I feel?"
Misaka leans on the back of her chair, groaning. "...Seriously, and we're gonna have to help this Azariah person, huh."
"...Not like you have a choice," Shokuhou muttered grimly. "Whatever's gonna happen, Misaka-san, all I can genuinely say is... the dark side is finished. It just doesn't know it's finished."
Misaka looked at her, grimly. The dark side. That painful side of the city caused pain to both of them. It was just... too hard to fully consider it. Not with how much power they've got.
"Am I supposed to worry about you acting like silver sister now?" Misaka asked, dryly, talking about a certain nun who was always with that spiky-haired idiot.
Shokuhou rolled her eyes a little, tired. "Oh please, Misaka-san, I'm... not that over-exaggerating."
"Just checking," Misaka muttered, before standing up and stretching a little. "Well, considering the info we've got, guess we'd better help this Azariah person out, since we owe him... or whatever his GOD is... actually telling us what's really going on with that idiot."
"I for one find it really hard to believe that you believe me that easily," Shokuhou muttered dryly, tired.
"Normally, I wouldn't take you for your word, but considering the things you're spouting, which you don't normally spout, I'm more than willing to hear you out at least. Besides..." she muttered, grimly. "If you're even half right about what you just said, we're gonna have to visit that idiot and get him to sit down for once and not go running off somewhere. I wanna hear it from his own mouth. And..." she glanced back at Shokuhou. "Maybe we could somehow find a way to get all of his memories back."
Shokuhou couldn't help but chuckle bitterly. "Don't you think I haven't tried that? I've tried to find something, anything, to get those memories back."
"Well... I'm not really one to actually give up until I find a way. How about you?" Misaka said, glancing at her.
"...I suppose not," Shokuhou muttered softly.
Song Begins: "Metamorphose" by Yoko Takahashi
...But then.
"...!"
Shokuhou widened her eyes, turning quietly pale. Misaka noticed, before looking at where she was looking. Misaka's eyes widened as well.
...Standing just a few meters away, there was a tall, older, handsome gentleman who looked to be around his 60s. No, this was no man. Shokuhou could tell immediately. Misaka, while not having the same experiences as Shokuhou, felt herself freezing before this... thing.
...He didn't feel like a man. He felt like a predator wearing human skin. His eyes were golden yet pale, cold pupils that sharpened to reveal his black snake-like irises. He had grey hair covered by a dark fedora hat. He wore an American 40s style of dark noir, formal detective attire, consisting of a dark trenchcoat, with a dark suit of blazer and pants, and a white collar with a black necktie. He had dark gloves on both of his hands, which were around his back, and dark socks covering his feet.
Misaka... felt like her sweat was dropping, as the atmosphere felt like it got colder. She looked to the ground and realized the man had no actual bodily shadow, confirming that he was not normal at all. That kind of gaze... it felt much crueler than even Accelerator's. This one was the kind of gaze that did not hesitate to whisper and inspire genocide, as if that was the law.
Misaka tried to talk back to it... But she couldn't. What was wrong with her? She couldn't shout. It was not that she couldn't do anything. It was just... she felt paralyzed by the gaze of someone who personified judgment in the opposite direction.
Shokuhou, shakily standing up, touches Misaka's shoulder, warning quietly. "...Misaka-san, that's...that's no man. That's... Evil."
Misaka raised an eyebrow. "What the heck do you mean, Shokuhou?"
Shokuhou glanced at the man standing by, never moving, yet eyed them curiously and coldly. She muttered softly. "...That's the Evil One's second-in-command, the First Fallen Cherub, Azazel."
Misaka widened her eyes, recalling their recent discussion, as she eyed the man again. Him? An actual... fallen? He... doesn't look dangerous. Like, with her Railgun, she could just flip him and be gone. But something told her not to be fooled by such a normal disguise.
She gritted her teeth. "...O...Oi, what the heck do you want?" Her knuckles were quietly emanating electricity. And yet, it felt like a dot compared to what this thing was.
The thing quietly narrowed his eyes at both of them. He never spoke to them. He just eyed them and did not waste words. The uneasy silence dragged on for a little longer.
...Why the hell is this thing not saying anything but watch them?
She tried to speak again, but the cold, predatory gaze made it quite hard to speak. What the hell do they even do? They can't just stand here and do nothing.
"...Why the heck is he just standing there?" Misaka, seeking answers, looked at Shokuhou, who bit her lips.
"...I think, his mere presence, is a statement," Shokuhou muttered softly, shaken and shuddering like a leaf. "...Real fallen do not waste words. They judge. That's why the Devil was called Ha-Satanas. We're looking at the judge."
"...But what is he judging us for? Judging us for what?" Misaka muttered, as she didn't like where this was going.
The old man kept watch either way, never bothering to elaborate. Another silence followed. Then, Misaka couldn't help but notice.
"Is it just me... or has time stopped completely?" Misaka spoke grimly.
"...You're not the only one," Shokuhou muttered, quietly pale.
The old man quietly kept staring at them both. Not uttering a word. The silence was quiet yet destabilizing and terrifying for both of the girls. Misaka tried to hide that fear. She had felt fear before, whenever she encountered Accelerator, but this felt... more existential. If not for something holding this thing back, he would have annihilated the two long ago. This cannot be random.
So this thing doesn't speak. Doesn't even attack. Doesn't even try to be intimidating. Just look at them both. Or rather, Misaka thought, glancing back at the pale Shokuhou. This thing, whatever it is, came for her.
Misaka tried to mutter in defiance, though it took a lot of effort of steel on her part, clenching her fists that sparked. "...I don't really get you, but if you want her, you'd have to get through me first."
The old man simply glanced at her. It was brief. But the way he glanced at her made Misaka feel the weight crushing down on her. He did not use any power. His entire being screamed authority. He sees her, like an open book, even her mind, even her lightning, even down to the least atomic structure that forms her entire body. This thing was a cold, calculating scientist, which was an impression Misaka got. A shivering thought passed through her mind. This is the thing that all of the shady scientists of Academy City had unknowingly been patterning themselves to.
"...Ne, Shokuhou," Misaka whispered, taking this opportunity since it's not like this thing looked like it was going to do anything against them. "What the heck do you mean by First Cherub? What's up with that?"
Shokuhou, careful in her tone, spoke grimly. "...First shall be last, last shall be first, that's the gold standard of the true hierarchy. This thing is, from what I understood, supposed to be the announcer of good news to... all of us."
The old man glanced meaningfully at Shokuhou. He never spoke, but he acknowledged that truth.
"...Now, it's...it's something else. Mystery becomes a curse. Good news becomes relative. Innocence becomes the scapegoats." She muttered grimly. "...Misaka-san, this thing is responsible for...genocide, on a scale I'd rather not want to think about."
Misaka flinched and quietly took that seriously, glancing back at the man... no, not a man, a monster. A monster that, if what Shokuhou said was true, literally everything, all communication, all goodness, all mysteries, it's him that's the traffic enforcer. What's good is good. What's evil is evil. This thing judges, and this thing decides, by not opening a mouth, but whispers through intelligence.
...Which meant that this thing has already set the dominoes moving, and whatever his plan is, it's multi-effective. A chessmaster, but before that very word even existed.
So, even if Misaka could, maybe, even if impossible, do something, there were already several things in play that could affect her, indirectly. So, what would this thing be used against her? Her parents. Her sisters. Her friends. All of it and more. Even... her own habits. Her quirks. All of it. A true analyst of the human psyche.
...And the stilled time lingered. Misaka and Shokuhou did not know how long this lasted. It felt like several hours had passed, even if such a thing no longer felt relevant. Misaka was quietly frustrated. She can't just stand here all day while this thing keeps looking at her. But her instincts were screaming not to, because if she even tries to attack, the attack itself would not even hit him, not even phase through him, because this being lay outside all things she could be familiar with, occupying a "space" she doesn't understand.
Misaka and Shokuhou glanced at each other. They needed to think of something.
"...Any actual ideas here?" Misaka muttered softly.
"...I could invoke Tenshu-sama's Name," Shokuhou muttered, with quiet reverence, referring to Christ's Name. But then, she noticed the old man's cold gaze, felt even colder when she suggested that. "...Though, if I did, this thing would not simply leave on the spot. His Name shouldn't be used as a simple problem-solving weapon, because if I simply do so... Azazel wins."
"You've got to be kidding me," Misaka was quietly muttering as her face was flinching, looking at the cold abomination.
Quietly, Shokuhou herself recalls.
"Not every one who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then will I declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you evildoers.'"
So, instead of doing the predictable, Shokuhou quietly felt that the best thing to really do is discern the Will of the Most High. You can say the Name, and it does drive demons like Azazel out. But the problem is, Azazel wouldn't just show up right in front of them without some kind of reason. It's not for Shokuhou's place to discern a fallen intellect's mind, for it is beyond her comprehension.
So why would the LORD permit her to encounter His fallen second son? This cannot be random. It's not merely because the monster would see her as a genuine threat. No, it was more than that. It wasn't about even distracting her and Misaka; that is irrelevant to the entire issue. What really made her extremely cautious was...
"...Wait," she muttered, widening her eyes, paling in realization.
"What?" Misaka glanced at her.
"...We were talking about what I've experienced earlier. We've even talked about... my prince..." Shokuhou muttered, looking quietly in silent terror at the old man who held her with a cold regard.
"What? You're telling me this thing wants something from that idiot?" Misaka asked, referring to one Touma Kamijou. That just made it even more personal, as she glanced with a quiet, defiant yet shaking glare at the old man.
"Not just that... what Azariah even told me... about the dark side of the city, how it's currently at war with each other, while most of Academy City is currently busy bolstering exterior defenses in preparation for a third world war," Shokuhou muttered grimly.
"...Wait," Misaka widened her eyes, quietly realizing the terrible implications. "You're telling me this thing just completely hijacked the tensions happening around the globe, and at the same time, what's happening on the dark side right now?"
"Not hijack," Shokuhou quietly corrected. "He's already the master of every war and conflict, Misaka-san. He's genocided entire civilizations far older than even ours for less. What he's doing right now... is modifying the battlefield to account for Azariah-san's interference, and I just so happen to be the first trigger."
"...So it all goes back to that Azariah person, huh?" Misaka grimaced a little, looking at Azazel, who acknowledged coldly Shokuhou's perspective.
A long silence followed. Eventually, Shokuhou quietly remembered. The Grand Army of I Am (GAIAM). She saw it. Recalling that vision of meeting the LORD Himself. The countless men in white armor who marched on the streets of Azariah's Earth's Vatican.
...Oh, of course. Shokuhou couldn't help but gulp. Of course, when the imperial armadas of the Empire of the Most Sacred Eucharistic Heart mobilize, Satan's primary lieutenant would have already set more dominoes. It recontextualizes all of the battles from here on out. A War so ancient, permeating across every point in aevum, in time, and in fallen time.
"...Not just that either, Misaka-san," Shokuhou muttered grimly. "This was long before Azariah. He's just the obvious pointer. He's no player in a chess conflict. Chess meant nothing to this War of Opposing Extremes, with no illusion of rivalry."
"What are you trying to say, Shokuhou?" Misaka asked carefully, paying attention.
"...Don't look at Azariah-san. Look at the Most High, who has other instruments in play instead of merely one, and there could have been more instruments playing before Azariah, the obvious instrument. Don't think of this conflict as chess. Think of it as liturgy and participation, not order vs chaos," Shokuhou muttered softly, which made Azazel quietly acknowledge her with cold calculation.
Shokuhou quietly stood her ground, speaking now, that sacred Name. But she did not use that precious Name of her Father to drive this demon out. No, she did something radical. "...In the Name of My Father, Iesous Christos, I belong to Him alone, not to you or to your master."
She personally gave herself to the Name who held her too dearly. She did not bother to debate with the monster about anything, nor would she bring her will into play, for that was futile. She'd bring instead, the ancient conviction that evil is nothing, and completely defeated. That was the only thing that really mattered here. Taking an actual concrete side and never conforming to neutrality.
She has no crucifix. But she formed it in her own heart.
Azazel's glare turned even colder, with a silent rage that could, if it wanted to, shake entire planetary systems and galactic clusters out of their axis. Misaka flinched at this sudden, colder visage. It was like... looking at something draconic, but worse. And yet, it carried... respect, in the twisted sense of the word.
The old man quietly placed his right hand to the center of his hat, his snake slits sharpened as his pale gold pupils, muttering coldly with the tip of his hat. "...We'll see about that, Daughter of the Most High...and of That Woman..."
Misaka flinched as she heard the monster finally speak. It sounded normal, but it carried... an entire tsunami that threatened to engulf everything. Her knees couldn't help but shake as she glanced back at Shokuhou, who stood her ground, not even reacting, just like hers. How the heck is this possible for Shokuhou to actually stand against this thing and say that to its face without flinching? Misaka didn't really understand.
Nevertheless, it's a blink, and the monster was no longer there. No sound effect. No warping of dimensions. No step. Just disappearance. Time now flowed normally. In the background, there were a few Tokiwadai students seen passing by that would indicate such. It was far too quiet. And Misaka didn't like where this was going.
"...Shokuhou," Misaka glanced at her, looking for answers while keeping herself steady. "What the heck did you just do?"
Shokuhou, paler than snow, quietly glanced at her and spoke grimly with a broken smile. "...For once in my life, I took a side."
Song End:
trashtaker
The (un)lucky Patreon Saint of borrowed fortune
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Oh dang. I hope Baptismal rites could help that world's humanity be apart of God's children.