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 (18 threadmarks, 76k words)
User Total Multiverse Learner 101 18
Chapter 1
New
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2025
- Messages
- 40
- Likes received
- 193
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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- 193
...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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- 193
...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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- 40
- Likes received
- 193
...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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Multiverse Learner 101
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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:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzTkbGzPOow
...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:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzTkbGzPOow
...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."
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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.
Chapter 11 - Loop 2 - A Certain Magical Index
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Multiverse Learner 101
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...The first thing that Azariah would do was to try to attempt to talk with Junko Hokaze.
"Eh?" Hokaze blinked a little. "You want to just... talk to me?"
Both Asia Argento, with a curious expression, and Frenda Seivelun, with an incredulous expression, were looking at Azariah, who raised his right hand, humbly asking if she wanted to talk.
"Since we wait for Shokuhou-san, I think it's best if I get informed of how Tokiwadai Middle School operates, in terms of its customs and protocols. That way, I don't accidentally offend anyone while being here," Azariah explained humbly.
"O-Oh, I see," Hokaze blinked a bit.
"Hold on a minute," Frenda looked at him with a dry, exasperated expression. "Why the hell are you being this calm? Like, I'm still not letting it go. You somehow know everything about the dark side. Everything! Where the hell do you even get that kind of information?"
"It's not something I'd be able to disclose freely," Azariah explained humbly. "Not for my own sake, but because people would potentially use my information to target those I've borrowed the information from, even to their unawares."
This was another discreet way of saying that he cannot simply reveal this information, because in his world, A Certain Magical Index is fiction. But for one, Azariah sincerely doubts that he'd be taken seriously if he said "fiction". Another problem with the term "fiction" is that it is an imperfect human label. What the modern day thinks of as fiction is simply just like any other myth of the past, expressing truths hidden within veils of imperfections. He figured that, with Original Sin, man's imagination was one of those faculties that had been damaged, hence why, when he tries to express truths, it would always be imperfect and inaccurate.
He is not lying. He is simply trying his best to find more appropriate words to articulate a phenomenon that speculative theology, imaginative theology, and such had been articulating long before he was even born. Fiction isn't worthless. It's a mirror of a specific truth hidden within imperfection, depending on which narrative it conveys.
Frenda twitched a little. More like she was a little pissed, arms crossed. "All be told, you even managed to describe Mugino, Kinuhata, Takitsubo, and even that mutt Hamazura far too accurately. Like, who the hell even has minor details like that as info? Mugino's entire crime family and all of the pockets they've got. Takitsubo's potential as a Level 5. Kinuhata's random B-movie hobbies and the reasons why she keeps saying "super" all of the time. Seriously, I'm really starting to think you're some kind of stalker with a hobby of spying on people."
"Well, more like a watcher, but-" Azariah tried to clarify, but...
"Aha! So you are a stalker, you leg pervert!" Frenda pointed at him accusingly, widening her eyes in a glare.
Azariah blinked. He muttered calmly, not derailed by this line of thought. "You didn't let me finish. I said, I'm a watcher, because from where I come from, all of your information is... well, public, to put it mildly, same goes for Hokaze-san."
"Huh?" Frenda blinked a bit, her accusation dropped, and was replaced by something resembling confusion and concern.
"Huh?" Hokaze blinked as well, not expecting even her to be brought into this conversation.
"It's true," Asia nodded softly, making the two look at her. "Where Azariah comes from, it's..." She smiled a little too sadly. "...it's not even just what Azariah-san said. It's...silent, but beautiful. It's something none of us had ever known."
...Because she was right. Because, unlike her world, or even this world, Azariah's world was... too plentiful, a total created order, one of many total created orders. The various Eucharistic miracles. The various Marian apparitions. The various branches of theology that all form a prism that reflects the Uncreated Light in some way. Asia's world never had any of that. It was a world, full of angels, devils, and fallen, and other kamis and buddhas and dragons, but none of that was worth comparing to Azariah's world which is filled with an overabundance of living creatures.
The Most High wasn't just GOD, He was a FATHER. And like any father, He treated everything His children wanted too seriously. He expanded His creative thought so that true mankind may behold such wonders. All creation speaks of Him, because it was too plentiful, most beyond even the physical and empirical sciences. Most worlds think of angels and humans as binary; most worlds think of Christianity as simply a set of doctrines and morals, but no, it wasn't. It was too... never-endingly expansive, where Mercy is King, because He loves all things and sustains them all with a Smile.
"...Azariah's no stalker, Frenda-san," Asia spoke with a sad smile. "He just lives in a place where none of us ever knew, and something we should have all had from the beginning, but we never had it."
Frenda blinked with a confused frown, not understanding what she was getting at.
Azariah became silent, listening as well, as Asia looked at Hokaze and asked. "Tell me, Hokaze-san, what's the most favorite thing you can think of?"
Hokaze held a brief thought before placing both of her hands together and smiling. "Oh, I've always found myself drawn towards Gekota, for instance. I even had entire collections of them stored in my room."
Frenda made a "Huh?" expression, as if she couldn't believe this conversation got dragged into a... children's merchandise.
Asia, however, spoke seriously while her smile was still sadder. "Then, if you can indulge me, what if... There was Someone out there who made what you loved so real, because you would be so happy?"
Hokaze widened her eyes a little, not expecting that. Frenda, too, didn't expect that, with a confused frown, not understanding where this conversation was going.
Azariah, however, slightly widened his eyes. Was... Was Asia suggesting... Gekota is an actual species made by ALMIGHTY GOD? He's never... thought of that before. Then again... it tracks. Of course, He would do that. Who was he to presume to know the creative power of the Trinity?
"...I...I don't understand the question, Asia-san," Hokaze muttered, drawn by such a strange question.
Asia, instead of following predictability, simply gave a reflection. "What I am saying is... nothing is ever truly lost, not even our own hobbies. Everything has meaning. All of it. Even the ones we never really understood. Even the ones we look down on. Nothing is lost."
"...Nothing is lost," Hokaze muttered, thoughtful.
Frenda would try to interrupt, muttering while her heart was cautious, because this didn't feel like a normal conversation. "Okay, so, anything else you want to tell us besides some feel me good message? Cause I think this is where this is heading?"
But instead of the predictability of talking about religion, Asia simply smiled even sadder. "...I'm only saying, there is no such thing as being alone, and that all of us, one day, would realize that is so."
Frenda... still didn't understand where she's getting at. But... something about it felt... too open, too inviting. She frowned in silence as she glanced at Azariah. The look on his face, solemn and quiet, suggested that he understood what that blonde Italian was trying to say.
"Oi, anything you gotta say about that?" Frenda asked pointedly.
Azariah shook his head. "No... Asia had explained what needed to be said, because she is right. I'm simply the listener now."
Frenda felt a little ticked, but she never complained, pouting while frowning in thought.
Song Begins:
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...And then. An explosion.
Everyone tumbled down to the floor. The concrete walls broke. An ozonic scene of emerald plasma had caused such an explosion. Azariah groans a little as he never saw this coming, and so does Frenda. Frenda notices that she has suddenly found herself lying on the man's chest. It made her... a little self-conscious as she blushes, muttering in a stutter.
But Azariah was far more concerned about what actually caused that explosion, as his hands were placed near Frenda's waist, making the latter stutter even more. Azariah tried to mutter as he looked at the smoke. "What... hit us?"
Asia groans quietly as she holds her head, which has a little stream of blood flowing down her face. It wasn't serious. She just got hit a little by some debris of concrete. Hokaze was fine, as she quietly lifted herself up from the ground, wondering what had just happened, while having a serious frown.
"...Ahahahaha." A sound of a very familiar, cruel laughter echoed across the smoke. It made Frenda flinch in terror, her blush no longer seen, and her stutter turned into dread. Azariah flinched, in a different way, because he couldn't help but recognize that sound. He quietly lifted Frenda gently, keeping her steady, as he stared in quiet defiance towards the source of that laughter.
"...Wow, who would have thought you'd run into the Railgun's school, Frenda. You really thought this would keep me from killing a traitor like you?" says the subtle yet clearly deranged voice.
Out of the smoke, someone was walking towards them. A very beautiful woman, who looked like a model. Soft, tea-colored long hair. Stylish clothing that made her really stand out as an ojou-sama. But underneath the surface lay someone who had more blood on her hands than anything. A twisted mentality that lay underneath all that beauty.
Shizuri Mugino.
Instinctively, Azariah quietly held Frenda in his arms. He could feel her shaking, her eyes widening in dread at the thought of death incarnate now staring at her face.
"Asia-san, are you alright?" Hokaze asked out of concern, heading towards Asia and lifting her up with one arm.
Asia nodded weakly. "I'm fine."
Hokaze and Asia looked straight ahead, as the former narrowed her eyes at the obvious danger that now walked slowly, with glowing orbs of death hovering if provoked.
"...Mu-Mugino," Frenda muttered, terrorized. No... No... she thought she had more time. She... She didn't want to die...
"Hm?" Mugino stopped walking and noticed Frenda was not alone. In fact, her eyes zero in on a specific young man, not too bad, somewhere just maybe near 19. His arms were wrapped near Frenda as he stood tall, quietly looking at Mugino with a grim expression. Mugino smirked a little. "Oh, what's this, Frenda? A boyfriend that I never knew about?"
At any time of the day, that one line would have made Frenda reject such a claim, but she froze to death. She couldn't articulate even a single word. Terror spread even to her nerves. She didn't want to die. It was a repeated thought that drummed into her mind.
"...Well, guess you wanted to fuck up a little bit before you die. I could understand that." Mugino smirked.
Azariah was under no illusion. If he tries to fight Mugino directly, he dies, no question. He doesn't have Hamazura's survival skills. The only other remaining option, no matter how tenous, was to make a run for it. But Azariah also knew that the main problem was Mugino's Meltdowner ability. He wouldn't underestimate how pinpoint accurate it was in tagging something or someone. He was going to have to think on his feet. He doesn't have someone of Misaka's ability, recalling how Misaka somehow managed to survive Mugino during the Sisters' Arc with her powers and quick thinking.
"...Hokaze-san," he spoke towards Hokaze, who looked at him. "Take care of Asia-san for me."
Hokaze widened her eyes, concerned by what he was about to do.
"...So, any last- Hmm?" Mugino noticed as she stopped talking, as she saw Azariah bringing out... a Saint Benedict Rosary from his right hand, getting it from his pocket. Mugino couldn't help but laugh a little at the absurdity. "Oh-Hoho, this is rich, your boyfriend's one of those people from outside Academy City. What? Are you gonna suddenly drop down on your knees and start praying?"
Frenda glanced at the rosary that Azariah held. And... her fear of death suddenly felt gone. No, it wasn't gone. It was just... subdued, like the fear itself was terrified and was cowering before whatever Azariah was carrying. She felt... peace. Nothing was happening on the outside. Nothing. But something was happening. No one's just seeing it from their own five senses.
"...Not really," Azariah muttered in defiance. He didn't waste breath trying to convince Mugino to hear him out. He knew that she would come to kill Frenda no matter what. That was always the canon route Frenda was destined to. But Azariah can spot a false god when he sees one. He's not looking at Mugino or Frenda. He's looking at the seemingly narrative-like orchestration of Mugino having somehow found them.
...Canon is just a false god, pretending to be supreme.
"...Frenda," Azariah muttered, making her pay attention to him. She looked at his face, which held no fear, just a calm, grim clarity. "...When I say run, run."
And... Frenda got the signal. Her will felt weaker as she let Azariah take the lead. He grabs her hand, steady as they make a run for it.
...And they ran, going through the right side of the corridor.
"Oh? Trying to run like rats? Alright then, fine by me," Mugino smirked a little as she walked with no hurry. There was nowhere to run anyway. She can just take as much time as she needs, and then she'd cut them both in half.
Mugino walked, ignoring Asia and Hokaze entirely as they were not who she was after. Hokaze had her arm raised in a protective stance, blocking Asia, who looked on in concern, holding both of her hands in silent prayer.
When Mugino was gone, Hokaze quietly brought out her phone and dialed a few numbers, putting it to her ear. After a few rings, she heard Shokuhou's concerned voice.
"Junko? Wha-"
"Queen! We're in trouble, someone's after Azariah-san!" Hokaze exclaims in concern.
Frenda Seivelun was running for dear life. No, she was not alone in running. Holding her hand was this mysterious Azariah.
They ran with their boots across the hallway, passing through a few Tokiwadai students who blinked in confusion at the sudden sprint of the two before they all noticed, to their pale expression, someone who was walking casually in the hallway. The Tokiwadai students were all either Level 3s or 4s, so they were not powerless by any means. But they couldn't move because of the woman who clearly exudes danger without even needing to spell it out.
Frenda glances at Azariah, who ran while raising the rosary he had. Her heart clenched. What... What is that thing? Like, it's a rosary, Frenda wasn't stupid. She may have seen it around here and there, not in Academy City certainly, but one could find it on the internet or something. Usually, you'd see it in some anime or so. Some bygone relic that wasn't needed anymore, or some anime prop.
...But this rosary was not like those rosaries. It was different. Too different. Nothing was happening with it, but something made Frenda stare at it way too long than she should have when she ran with her own two feet, as if she wasn't the only one running, but Someone was helping her legs run.
Just who is this Azariah punk? Why? Why would he want to save her? He doesn't even need to go this far. Yet her legs gave way, and it felt like it was moving on its own when her hand held his.
An emerald beam of light straight forwardly drew near. It was fired by Mugino, the length of which was calculated. Frenda's heart skipped a beat. But suddenly, Azariah moves a little, making Frenda move away at the last moment, and somehow, against all odds, dodges the emerald ray as it blasts instead at the corridor, causing some Tokiwadai students to scream in terror. No one was hurt, however.
"Hmm, now this is more interesting," Mugino smiled sharply. She quietly enjoyed the chase even more. Whoever this boy was, he was quite sharp in dodging. Frenda sure picked the right boyfriend. Too bad he's going to get just as eviscerated. Nothing personal.
Their feet kept running, as with every movement, they somehow dodged. Or rather, Azariah was dodging, dragging Frenda along with him. The emerald lights, perfectly precise, somehow missed by an inch. Just an inch. Azariah wasn't even aware he was dodging this too skillfully. He was just running, holding Frenda's hand, as he was trying to find a way to lose Mugino, and better, find Misaka and Shokuhou in the chaos. Or hopefully, they'd bump into Kuroko Shirai, and thus get Judgment involved.
Frenda, on the other hand, was paying close attention to Azariah. He was nobody special, yet he's somehow dodging Mugino's greenish projectile beams. This didn't feel normal, even if it looked like a normal chase. Even as they ran outside the building, as she and Azariah walked up the stairs and dodged another beam by an inch, she didn't even know what to truly think anymore. She just didn't want to die.
Why though? Why does she not want to die? Was it truly just about human preservation? Why was she thinking deeply about this when she's running for her life?
...Unbeknownst to Azariah and Frenda, and even Mugino, there were multiple S.W.A.T. members now on the rooftop, acting in coordination, as they were readying their rifles, taking position. Their primary mission? Secretly assist Shizuri Mugino in taking out the traitor, Frenda Seivelun. It was simple, and they did not need to reveal themselves.
However...
...Dark volcanic ash smoke, which smelt like sulfuric acids, suddenly came out from the floors of the rooftops and, without warning, started to enter the backs of these men, possessing them completely, for it was much simpler to possess murderers who confuse justice for the law of blood. Their eyes were suddenly turning into pitch black, which held colder oceans of outer darkness. What took them over were legions of sinister daimones, whose origins were far more ancient than the first man.
The possessed glanced coldly at the surface, where they eyed the two runaways. Or rather, they were eyeing Azariah.
"Lord Lucifer Helel ben Shachar wants that Kakure Kirishitan dead," says one S.W.A.T. member with dark eyes, that held an entire tsunamic ocean full of more of his kind who rose out with quiet, cold calm; his voice came from the comms. "His actions cannot be allowed to spread further across the twelve worlds. Mobilize for counter-offensive against the Most High."
For they—the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs)—cannot trust the normal procedures anymore. They knew Shizuri Mugino could not kill this boy, not with the One who is within him, so they would need to go in full aggressive force. That Kakure Kirishitan is the true threat. Secrecy is no longer an option. And so, they readied their sniper weapons and prepared to fire.
But they were not simply content to remain on the rooftops. More BEDs, who had possessed more of these dark side members, wearing their Anti-Skill's S.W.A.T. equipment, were now walking with quiet calculation like shadows of death, as Scripture had always called them "the shadow of death", for they are the shadows of Death itself, who is Lucifer Helel ben Shachar. Multiple of them, as if by teleport, now converged on the two runners and aimed their rifles and started to open fire.
Frenda didn't know what to expect. She just suddenly realized that there were people now opening fire at her and Azariah, and it wasn't Mugino. Gunfire sprayed across Tokiwadai, as she now found herself ducking from the floor, with Azariah covering for her. What was happening right now?
"Hah? What the hell?" Mugino raised an eyebrow as she looked with narrowed eyes at the sudden intrusion, which annoyed her to no end. She looked and saw multiple numbers of these S.W.A.T. who were aiming their weapons at both of her prey.
...No wait, Mugino narrowed her eyes even closer at them. Something felt... off with them. Their eyes, for instance. And they were gunning for Frenda and her so-called boyfriend. What the hell did they do to piss off what looked like an entire weird legion of Anti-Skill platoons?
"Stay low..." Azariah muttered towards Frenda as he shielded her completely. Frenda felt her breath taken away as she saw this punk using himself as a body shield, not caring if he got hit, while he was trying to get out of this mess.
He looked ahead, and his eyes widened grimly, looking at the men who held dark eyes, all surrounding him and Frenda. He'd recognize them from anywhere. The oldest enemies of Christendom. The ones that the earliest Church Fathers had warned about. The ones who had almost taken over his planet during World War II, using both Allied and Axis powers to their advantage. The Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs).
Frenda felt herself freeze. She glanced and saw the same dark eyes. But what she saw quietly terrified her in a different way. She could see the eyes which weren't even eyes, but portals to somewhere, somewhere so outerly dark that no description ever describes such a place.
"We've got you now, Kirishitan dog," says one of them, coldly, as he was about to aim his weapon to pull the trigger. More of his fellow BEDs were surrounding Azariah, with no escape.
The BEDs cannot rely any longer on a predictable canon. The kosmokrator daimons had called the BEDs in for reinforcements. Azariah must die, for he is a Kakure Kirishitan, a member of the Mystical Body of the Most High. They do not care about any isekai'er, nor do they care about any Christian. But they do care about the Kakure Kirishitans, the same nuisances who had completely dislodged all of the Roman Empire's territories which they owned once upon a time. Since then, the BEDs have had a personal vendetta against all Kakure Kirishitans. The Enlightenment was one such vengeance, tampering with wonderful truths into sick morality play and dogmatic coldness, with no heart or soul, for only the mind reigns supreme.
Quietly, Azariah grimly held his rosary in defiance. Of course, the real Hell would show up. It was only a matter of time anyway. He looked around and saw no escape. He does not know all of the details, but he does know that he, a Catholic, would draw Satan's attention. He just didn't know how that attention was drawn. He quietly held Frenda by his arm.
Frenda glanced at him with a quiet terror, her mind now scrambling. What do they even do? What are these things?
No escape. The BEDs do not waste words. They all aimed their weapons and opened fire at Azariah and Frenda. They did not waste any time, or aevum. They knew that Kakure Kirishitans are more dangerous alive than dead. However...
...Somehow, by a miracle of Providence, both Azariah and Frenda got teleported. Someone reached out to them.
"(Sigh). That was close," says a familiar voice.
Azariah and Frenda glanced, blinking as they noticed a young woman with two wavy pigtails, a beautiful face, wearing her winter Tokiwadai uniform and green-white attached armband. Brown eyes that held a kind of weariness. Kuroko Shirai herself. The Judgment Officer that Azariah would clearly recognize. She is quite a famous and beloved character in Index.
"...Honestly," she said, as she still held them both by her touch, looking at the two with a weary gaze. "When I heard that onee-sama asked me for help, I didn't think that our own school would suddenly get invaded by Anti-Skill... or, at least I think it's Anti-Skill," she said the last part with extreme hesitancy, because she too noticed the dark-eyed portals of the BEDs.
Azariah grimly explained. "...If they are Anti-Skill, they aren't anymore," he glanced at the side of the rooftop and saw... more BEDs who suddenly came out of nowhere, with armed rifles ready.
"There's no escape, Son of the Most High," says one of the possessed S.W.A.T. who aimed their weapons.
Shirai clicked her tongue as she drew out her silver pins, aiming them at their rifles by teleporting them right at them, causing their rifles to fry upon trying to fire, forcing them to come near and raising their hands, like they were dangerous claws.
Quietly, Azariah held his Saint Benedict rosary high, in defiance. This was no magic technique. This was like a flag of revolution raised in defiance against the fallen powers who, when eyeing it, now became hesitant and stopped for a bit, coldly gnashing their teeth.
"Don't think that blasted chain means you won't die here, Kirishitan dog," says one of the BEDs.
Another of the possessed tried to charge, but he and one other possessed got kicked to the back by Shirai, which made Azariah grab the opportunity as he used his rosary to place it on one of the possessed's faces. He touched, along with his left free hand, at the two possessed, and...
"KAAAHHHHH!" two of the BEDs felt not just pain, but the purifying sting of grace, both from the sacramental and from the simple touch of a boy who had been baptized and confirmed, as their black eyes suddenly went away, knocking the bodies to the ground as the black smoke came out from their bodies, that transformed into luminous white smoke that arose to somewhere, free...
...And these freed daimons sang, inspired by the Spirit.
"May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)."
"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghh!" like echoing lions, the daimoniacs roared in fury, as countless swarms under their eyes ignited. Throughout Tokiwadai and the rooftops nearby, where more of the daimoniacs were seen, they echoed the same howling vengeance, and everyone in Tokiwadai heard both the song and the roaring defiance; two opposite extremes that now made themselves known.
Shirai widened her eyes as she saw the unexplainable miracle before her, instinctively taking a step back. Frenda widened her eyes at this sudden turn of events. Both had the same thought: What was... happening?
"Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)"
Underneath the possessed, some shadows form underneath the floor, which released more of the BEDs that took the form of men, women, and children who silently wept and gnashed their teeth like lions who growled at the threats.
Azariah quietly steadied himself, grim yet determined, slowly raising his rosary, while half of the rooftop now had a hundred or so BEDs that looked like they were readying for war.
"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)."
"That blasted Woman's chain," one child BED screeched coldly, and he did not shout. "A soldier under that Archangel Usurper!" he said coldly, referring to Saint Michael the Archistrategos-Archangel who defeated their lord.
"Away with the Kakure Kirishitan to the lions! Death to the son of the Most High and of that Woman!" proclaims another BED woman coldly, and did not shout.
Azariah didn't flinch as he grimly held his rosary high in defiance against one of the most ancient enemies of Christendom, and yet never uttered a word. For the rosary itself was the declaration, as spoken of in Revelation 20:1. The rosary was that chain.
And the BEDs couldn't help but react as they ran at Azariah like ravaging wolves. Death to the adopted son of the Most High! was their common thought.
Song Ends:
"Eh?" Hokaze blinked a little. "You want to just... talk to me?"
Both Asia Argento, with a curious expression, and Frenda Seivelun, with an incredulous expression, were looking at Azariah, who raised his right hand, humbly asking if she wanted to talk.
"Since we wait for Shokuhou-san, I think it's best if I get informed of how Tokiwadai Middle School operates, in terms of its customs and protocols. That way, I don't accidentally offend anyone while being here," Azariah explained humbly.
"O-Oh, I see," Hokaze blinked a bit.
"Hold on a minute," Frenda looked at him with a dry, exasperated expression. "Why the hell are you being this calm? Like, I'm still not letting it go. You somehow know everything about the dark side. Everything! Where the hell do you even get that kind of information?"
"It's not something I'd be able to disclose freely," Azariah explained humbly. "Not for my own sake, but because people would potentially use my information to target those I've borrowed the information from, even to their unawares."
This was another discreet way of saying that he cannot simply reveal this information, because in his world, A Certain Magical Index is fiction. But for one, Azariah sincerely doubts that he'd be taken seriously if he said "fiction". Another problem with the term "fiction" is that it is an imperfect human label. What the modern day thinks of as fiction is simply just like any other myth of the past, expressing truths hidden within veils of imperfections. He figured that, with Original Sin, man's imagination was one of those faculties that had been damaged, hence why, when he tries to express truths, it would always be imperfect and inaccurate.
He is not lying. He is simply trying his best to find more appropriate words to articulate a phenomenon that speculative theology, imaginative theology, and such had been articulating long before he was even born. Fiction isn't worthless. It's a mirror of a specific truth hidden within imperfection, depending on which narrative it conveys.
Frenda twitched a little. More like she was a little pissed, arms crossed. "All be told, you even managed to describe Mugino, Kinuhata, Takitsubo, and even that mutt Hamazura far too accurately. Like, who the hell even has minor details like that as info? Mugino's entire crime family and all of the pockets they've got. Takitsubo's potential as a Level 5. Kinuhata's random B-movie hobbies and the reasons why she keeps saying "super" all of the time. Seriously, I'm really starting to think you're some kind of stalker with a hobby of spying on people."
"Well, more like a watcher, but-" Azariah tried to clarify, but...
"Aha! So you are a stalker, you leg pervert!" Frenda pointed at him accusingly, widening her eyes in a glare.
Azariah blinked. He muttered calmly, not derailed by this line of thought. "You didn't let me finish. I said, I'm a watcher, because from where I come from, all of your information is... well, public, to put it mildly, same goes for Hokaze-san."
"Huh?" Frenda blinked a bit, her accusation dropped, and was replaced by something resembling confusion and concern.
"Huh?" Hokaze blinked as well, not expecting even her to be brought into this conversation.
"It's true," Asia nodded softly, making the two look at her. "Where Azariah comes from, it's..." She smiled a little too sadly. "...it's not even just what Azariah-san said. It's...silent, but beautiful. It's something none of us had ever known."
...Because she was right. Because, unlike her world, or even this world, Azariah's world was... too plentiful, a total created order, one of many total created orders. The various Eucharistic miracles. The various Marian apparitions. The various branches of theology that all form a prism that reflects the Uncreated Light in some way. Asia's world never had any of that. It was a world, full of angels, devils, and fallen, and other kamis and buddhas and dragons, but none of that was worth comparing to Azariah's world which is filled with an overabundance of living creatures.
The Most High wasn't just GOD, He was a FATHER. And like any father, He treated everything His children wanted too seriously. He expanded His creative thought so that true mankind may behold such wonders. All creation speaks of Him, because it was too plentiful, most beyond even the physical and empirical sciences. Most worlds think of angels and humans as binary; most worlds think of Christianity as simply a set of doctrines and morals, but no, it wasn't. It was too... never-endingly expansive, where Mercy is King, because He loves all things and sustains them all with a Smile.
"...Azariah's no stalker, Frenda-san," Asia spoke with a sad smile. "He just lives in a place where none of us ever knew, and something we should have all had from the beginning, but we never had it."
Frenda blinked with a confused frown, not understanding what she was getting at.
Azariah became silent, listening as well, as Asia looked at Hokaze and asked. "Tell me, Hokaze-san, what's the most favorite thing you can think of?"
Hokaze held a brief thought before placing both of her hands together and smiling. "Oh, I've always found myself drawn towards Gekota, for instance. I even had entire collections of them stored in my room."
Frenda made a "Huh?" expression, as if she couldn't believe this conversation got dragged into a... children's merchandise.
Asia, however, spoke seriously while her smile was still sadder. "Then, if you can indulge me, what if... There was Someone out there who made what you loved so real, because you would be so happy?"
Hokaze widened her eyes a little, not expecting that. Frenda, too, didn't expect that, with a confused frown, not understanding where this conversation was going.
Azariah, however, slightly widened his eyes. Was... Was Asia suggesting... Gekota is an actual species made by ALMIGHTY GOD? He's never... thought of that before. Then again... it tracks. Of course, He would do that. Who was he to presume to know the creative power of the Trinity?
"...I...I don't understand the question, Asia-san," Hokaze muttered, drawn by such a strange question.
Asia, instead of following predictability, simply gave a reflection. "What I am saying is... nothing is ever truly lost, not even our own hobbies. Everything has meaning. All of it. Even the ones we never really understood. Even the ones we look down on. Nothing is lost."
"...Nothing is lost," Hokaze muttered, thoughtful.
Frenda would try to interrupt, muttering while her heart was cautious, because this didn't feel like a normal conversation. "Okay, so, anything else you want to tell us besides some feel me good message? Cause I think this is where this is heading?"
But instead of the predictability of talking about religion, Asia simply smiled even sadder. "...I'm only saying, there is no such thing as being alone, and that all of us, one day, would realize that is so."
Frenda... still didn't understand where she's getting at. But... something about it felt... too open, too inviting. She frowned in silence as she glanced at Azariah. The look on his face, solemn and quiet, suggested that he understood what that blonde Italian was trying to say.
"Oi, anything you gotta say about that?" Frenda asked pointedly.
Azariah shook his head. "No... Asia had explained what needed to be said, because she is right. I'm simply the listener now."
Frenda felt a little ticked, but she never complained, pouting while frowning in thought.
Song Begins:
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...And then. An explosion.
Everyone tumbled down to the floor. The concrete walls broke. An ozonic scene of emerald plasma had caused such an explosion. Azariah groans a little as he never saw this coming, and so does Frenda. Frenda notices that she has suddenly found herself lying on the man's chest. It made her... a little self-conscious as she blushes, muttering in a stutter.
But Azariah was far more concerned about what actually caused that explosion, as his hands were placed near Frenda's waist, making the latter stutter even more. Azariah tried to mutter as he looked at the smoke. "What... hit us?"
Asia groans quietly as she holds her head, which has a little stream of blood flowing down her face. It wasn't serious. She just got hit a little by some debris of concrete. Hokaze was fine, as she quietly lifted herself up from the ground, wondering what had just happened, while having a serious frown.
"...Ahahahaha." A sound of a very familiar, cruel laughter echoed across the smoke. It made Frenda flinch in terror, her blush no longer seen, and her stutter turned into dread. Azariah flinched, in a different way, because he couldn't help but recognize that sound. He quietly lifted Frenda gently, keeping her steady, as he stared in quiet defiance towards the source of that laughter.
"...Wow, who would have thought you'd run into the Railgun's school, Frenda. You really thought this would keep me from killing a traitor like you?" says the subtle yet clearly deranged voice.
Out of the smoke, someone was walking towards them. A very beautiful woman, who looked like a model. Soft, tea-colored long hair. Stylish clothing that made her really stand out as an ojou-sama. But underneath the surface lay someone who had more blood on her hands than anything. A twisted mentality that lay underneath all that beauty.
Shizuri Mugino.
Instinctively, Azariah quietly held Frenda in his arms. He could feel her shaking, her eyes widening in dread at the thought of death incarnate now staring at her face.
"Asia-san, are you alright?" Hokaze asked out of concern, heading towards Asia and lifting her up with one arm.
Asia nodded weakly. "I'm fine."
Hokaze and Asia looked straight ahead, as the former narrowed her eyes at the obvious danger that now walked slowly, with glowing orbs of death hovering if provoked.
"...Mu-Mugino," Frenda muttered, terrorized. No... No... she thought she had more time. She... She didn't want to die...
"Hm?" Mugino stopped walking and noticed Frenda was not alone. In fact, her eyes zero in on a specific young man, not too bad, somewhere just maybe near 19. His arms were wrapped near Frenda as he stood tall, quietly looking at Mugino with a grim expression. Mugino smirked a little. "Oh, what's this, Frenda? A boyfriend that I never knew about?"
At any time of the day, that one line would have made Frenda reject such a claim, but she froze to death. She couldn't articulate even a single word. Terror spread even to her nerves. She didn't want to die. It was a repeated thought that drummed into her mind.
"...Well, guess you wanted to fuck up a little bit before you die. I could understand that." Mugino smirked.
Azariah was under no illusion. If he tries to fight Mugino directly, he dies, no question. He doesn't have Hamazura's survival skills. The only other remaining option, no matter how tenous, was to make a run for it. But Azariah also knew that the main problem was Mugino's Meltdowner ability. He wouldn't underestimate how pinpoint accurate it was in tagging something or someone. He was going to have to think on his feet. He doesn't have someone of Misaka's ability, recalling how Misaka somehow managed to survive Mugino during the Sisters' Arc with her powers and quick thinking.
"...Hokaze-san," he spoke towards Hokaze, who looked at him. "Take care of Asia-san for me."
Hokaze widened her eyes, concerned by what he was about to do.
"...So, any last- Hmm?" Mugino noticed as she stopped talking, as she saw Azariah bringing out... a Saint Benedict Rosary from his right hand, getting it from his pocket. Mugino couldn't help but laugh a little at the absurdity. "Oh-Hoho, this is rich, your boyfriend's one of those people from outside Academy City. What? Are you gonna suddenly drop down on your knees and start praying?"
Frenda glanced at the rosary that Azariah held. And... her fear of death suddenly felt gone. No, it wasn't gone. It was just... subdued, like the fear itself was terrified and was cowering before whatever Azariah was carrying. She felt... peace. Nothing was happening on the outside. Nothing. But something was happening. No one's just seeing it from their own five senses.
"...Not really," Azariah muttered in defiance. He didn't waste breath trying to convince Mugino to hear him out. He knew that she would come to kill Frenda no matter what. That was always the canon route Frenda was destined to. But Azariah can spot a false god when he sees one. He's not looking at Mugino or Frenda. He's looking at the seemingly narrative-like orchestration of Mugino having somehow found them.
...Canon is just a false god, pretending to be supreme.
"...Frenda," Azariah muttered, making her pay attention to him. She looked at his face, which held no fear, just a calm, grim clarity. "...When I say run, run."
And... Frenda got the signal. Her will felt weaker as she let Azariah take the lead. He grabs her hand, steady as they make a run for it.
...And they ran, going through the right side of the corridor.
"Oh? Trying to run like rats? Alright then, fine by me," Mugino smirked a little as she walked with no hurry. There was nowhere to run anyway. She can just take as much time as she needs, and then she'd cut them both in half.
Mugino walked, ignoring Asia and Hokaze entirely as they were not who she was after. Hokaze had her arm raised in a protective stance, blocking Asia, who looked on in concern, holding both of her hands in silent prayer.
When Mugino was gone, Hokaze quietly brought out her phone and dialed a few numbers, putting it to her ear. After a few rings, she heard Shokuhou's concerned voice.
"Junko? Wha-"
"Queen! We're in trouble, someone's after Azariah-san!" Hokaze exclaims in concern.
Frenda Seivelun was running for dear life. No, she was not alone in running. Holding her hand was this mysterious Azariah.
They ran with their boots across the hallway, passing through a few Tokiwadai students who blinked in confusion at the sudden sprint of the two before they all noticed, to their pale expression, someone who was walking casually in the hallway. The Tokiwadai students were all either Level 3s or 4s, so they were not powerless by any means. But they couldn't move because of the woman who clearly exudes danger without even needing to spell it out.
Frenda glances at Azariah, who ran while raising the rosary he had. Her heart clenched. What... What is that thing? Like, it's a rosary, Frenda wasn't stupid. She may have seen it around here and there, not in Academy City certainly, but one could find it on the internet or something. Usually, you'd see it in some anime or so. Some bygone relic that wasn't needed anymore, or some anime prop.
...But this rosary was not like those rosaries. It was different. Too different. Nothing was happening with it, but something made Frenda stare at it way too long than she should have when she ran with her own two feet, as if she wasn't the only one running, but Someone was helping her legs run.
Just who is this Azariah punk? Why? Why would he want to save her? He doesn't even need to go this far. Yet her legs gave way, and it felt like it was moving on its own when her hand held his.
An emerald beam of light straight forwardly drew near. It was fired by Mugino, the length of which was calculated. Frenda's heart skipped a beat. But suddenly, Azariah moves a little, making Frenda move away at the last moment, and somehow, against all odds, dodges the emerald ray as it blasts instead at the corridor, causing some Tokiwadai students to scream in terror. No one was hurt, however.
"Hmm, now this is more interesting," Mugino smiled sharply. She quietly enjoyed the chase even more. Whoever this boy was, he was quite sharp in dodging. Frenda sure picked the right boyfriend. Too bad he's going to get just as eviscerated. Nothing personal.
Their feet kept running, as with every movement, they somehow dodged. Or rather, Azariah was dodging, dragging Frenda along with him. The emerald lights, perfectly precise, somehow missed by an inch. Just an inch. Azariah wasn't even aware he was dodging this too skillfully. He was just running, holding Frenda's hand, as he was trying to find a way to lose Mugino, and better, find Misaka and Shokuhou in the chaos. Or hopefully, they'd bump into Kuroko Shirai, and thus get Judgment involved.
Frenda, on the other hand, was paying close attention to Azariah. He was nobody special, yet he's somehow dodging Mugino's greenish projectile beams. This didn't feel normal, even if it looked like a normal chase. Even as they ran outside the building, as she and Azariah walked up the stairs and dodged another beam by an inch, she didn't even know what to truly think anymore. She just didn't want to die.
Why though? Why does she not want to die? Was it truly just about human preservation? Why was she thinking deeply about this when she's running for her life?
...Unbeknownst to Azariah and Frenda, and even Mugino, there were multiple S.W.A.T. members now on the rooftop, acting in coordination, as they were readying their rifles, taking position. Their primary mission? Secretly assist Shizuri Mugino in taking out the traitor, Frenda Seivelun. It was simple, and they did not need to reveal themselves.
However...
...Dark volcanic ash smoke, which smelt like sulfuric acids, suddenly came out from the floors of the rooftops and, without warning, started to enter the backs of these men, possessing them completely, for it was much simpler to possess murderers who confuse justice for the law of blood. Their eyes were suddenly turning into pitch black, which held colder oceans of outer darkness. What took them over were legions of sinister daimones, whose origins were far more ancient than the first man.
The possessed glanced coldly at the surface, where they eyed the two runaways. Or rather, they were eyeing Azariah.
"Lord Lucifer Helel ben Shachar wants that Kakure Kirishitan dead," says one S.W.A.T. member with dark eyes, that held an entire tsunamic ocean full of more of his kind who rose out with quiet, cold calm; his voice came from the comms. "His actions cannot be allowed to spread further across the twelve worlds. Mobilize for counter-offensive against the Most High."
For they—the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs)—cannot trust the normal procedures anymore. They knew Shizuri Mugino could not kill this boy, not with the One who is within him, so they would need to go in full aggressive force. That Kakure Kirishitan is the true threat. Secrecy is no longer an option. And so, they readied their sniper weapons and prepared to fire.
But they were not simply content to remain on the rooftops. More BEDs, who had possessed more of these dark side members, wearing their Anti-Skill's S.W.A.T. equipment, were now walking with quiet calculation like shadows of death, as Scripture had always called them "the shadow of death", for they are the shadows of Death itself, who is Lucifer Helel ben Shachar. Multiple of them, as if by teleport, now converged on the two runners and aimed their rifles and started to open fire.
Frenda didn't know what to expect. She just suddenly realized that there were people now opening fire at her and Azariah, and it wasn't Mugino. Gunfire sprayed across Tokiwadai, as she now found herself ducking from the floor, with Azariah covering for her. What was happening right now?
"Hah? What the hell?" Mugino raised an eyebrow as she looked with narrowed eyes at the sudden intrusion, which annoyed her to no end. She looked and saw multiple numbers of these S.W.A.T. who were aiming their weapons at both of her prey.
...No wait, Mugino narrowed her eyes even closer at them. Something felt... off with them. Their eyes, for instance. And they were gunning for Frenda and her so-called boyfriend. What the hell did they do to piss off what looked like an entire weird legion of Anti-Skill platoons?
"Stay low..." Azariah muttered towards Frenda as he shielded her completely. Frenda felt her breath taken away as she saw this punk using himself as a body shield, not caring if he got hit, while he was trying to get out of this mess.
He looked ahead, and his eyes widened grimly, looking at the men who held dark eyes, all surrounding him and Frenda. He'd recognize them from anywhere. The oldest enemies of Christendom. The ones that the earliest Church Fathers had warned about. The ones who had almost taken over his planet during World War II, using both Allied and Axis powers to their advantage. The Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs).
Frenda felt herself freeze. She glanced and saw the same dark eyes. But what she saw quietly terrified her in a different way. She could see the eyes which weren't even eyes, but portals to somewhere, somewhere so outerly dark that no description ever describes such a place.
"We've got you now, Kirishitan dog," says one of them, coldly, as he was about to aim his weapon to pull the trigger. More of his fellow BEDs were surrounding Azariah, with no escape.
The BEDs cannot rely any longer on a predictable canon. The kosmokrator daimons had called the BEDs in for reinforcements. Azariah must die, for he is a Kakure Kirishitan, a member of the Mystical Body of the Most High. They do not care about any isekai'er, nor do they care about any Christian. But they do care about the Kakure Kirishitans, the same nuisances who had completely dislodged all of the Roman Empire's territories which they owned once upon a time. Since then, the BEDs have had a personal vendetta against all Kakure Kirishitans. The Enlightenment was one such vengeance, tampering with wonderful truths into sick morality play and dogmatic coldness, with no heart or soul, for only the mind reigns supreme.
Quietly, Azariah grimly held his rosary in defiance. Of course, the real Hell would show up. It was only a matter of time anyway. He looked around and saw no escape. He does not know all of the details, but he does know that he, a Catholic, would draw Satan's attention. He just didn't know how that attention was drawn. He quietly held Frenda by his arm.
Frenda glanced at him with a quiet terror, her mind now scrambling. What do they even do? What are these things?
No escape. The BEDs do not waste words. They all aimed their weapons and opened fire at Azariah and Frenda. They did not waste any time, or aevum. They knew that Kakure Kirishitans are more dangerous alive than dead. However...
...Somehow, by a miracle of Providence, both Azariah and Frenda got teleported. Someone reached out to them.
"(Sigh). That was close," says a familiar voice.
Azariah and Frenda glanced, blinking as they noticed a young woman with two wavy pigtails, a beautiful face, wearing her winter Tokiwadai uniform and green-white attached armband. Brown eyes that held a kind of weariness. Kuroko Shirai herself. The Judgment Officer that Azariah would clearly recognize. She is quite a famous and beloved character in Index.
"...Honestly," she said, as she still held them both by her touch, looking at the two with a weary gaze. "When I heard that onee-sama asked me for help, I didn't think that our own school would suddenly get invaded by Anti-Skill... or, at least I think it's Anti-Skill," she said the last part with extreme hesitancy, because she too noticed the dark-eyed portals of the BEDs.
Azariah grimly explained. "...If they are Anti-Skill, they aren't anymore," he glanced at the side of the rooftop and saw... more BEDs who suddenly came out of nowhere, with armed rifles ready.
"There's no escape, Son of the Most High," says one of the possessed S.W.A.T. who aimed their weapons.
Shirai clicked her tongue as she drew out her silver pins, aiming them at their rifles by teleporting them right at them, causing their rifles to fry upon trying to fire, forcing them to come near and raising their hands, like they were dangerous claws.
Quietly, Azariah held his Saint Benedict rosary high, in defiance. This was no magic technique. This was like a flag of revolution raised in defiance against the fallen powers who, when eyeing it, now became hesitant and stopped for a bit, coldly gnashing their teeth.
"Don't think that blasted chain means you won't die here, Kirishitan dog," says one of the BEDs.
Another of the possessed tried to charge, but he and one other possessed got kicked to the back by Shirai, which made Azariah grab the opportunity as he used his rosary to place it on one of the possessed's faces. He touched, along with his left free hand, at the two possessed, and...
"KAAAHHHHH!" two of the BEDs felt not just pain, but the purifying sting of grace, both from the sacramental and from the simple touch of a boy who had been baptized and confirmed, as their black eyes suddenly went away, knocking the bodies to the ground as the black smoke came out from their bodies, that transformed into luminous white smoke that arose to somewhere, free...
...And these freed daimons sang, inspired by the Spirit.
"May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)."
"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghh!" like echoing lions, the daimoniacs roared in fury, as countless swarms under their eyes ignited. Throughout Tokiwadai and the rooftops nearby, where more of the daimoniacs were seen, they echoed the same howling vengeance, and everyone in Tokiwadai heard both the song and the roaring defiance; two opposite extremes that now made themselves known.
Shirai widened her eyes as she saw the unexplainable miracle before her, instinctively taking a step back. Frenda widened her eyes at this sudden turn of events. Both had the same thought: What was... happening?
"Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)"
Underneath the possessed, some shadows form underneath the floor, which released more of the BEDs that took the form of men, women, and children who silently wept and gnashed their teeth like lions who growled at the threats.
Azariah quietly steadied himself, grim yet determined, slowly raising his rosary, while half of the rooftop now had a hundred or so BEDs that looked like they were readying for war.
"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)."
"That blasted Woman's chain," one child BED screeched coldly, and he did not shout. "A soldier under that Archangel Usurper!" he said coldly, referring to Saint Michael the Archistrategos-Archangel who defeated their lord.
"Away with the Kakure Kirishitan to the lions! Death to the son of the Most High and of that Woman!" proclaims another BED woman coldly, and did not shout.
Azariah didn't flinch as he grimly held his rosary high in defiance against one of the most ancient enemies of Christendom, and yet never uttered a word. For the rosary itself was the declaration, as spoken of in Revelation 20:1. The rosary was that chain.
And the BEDs couldn't help but react as they ran at Azariah like ravaging wolves. Death to the adopted son of the Most High! was their common thought.
Song Ends:
Chapter 12 - Loop 2 - A Certain Magical Index
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Multiverse Learner 101
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...Somewhere, in the quiet, windowless building.
No one could see doors, or stairs, or elevators, or hallways. One could not truthfully tell where to go. It was an impenetrable citadel in all, even in name. There, the greatest magician of the 20th century, Aleister Crowley, floating upside down in his tube, looked on with...
...A paled expression.
Why?
First off, one should start from the beginning. Through the security measures that he had installed throughout the city, he had detected the presence of two strange intruders with no record who somehow got transported here from somewhere. Eventually, he'd get a name. Azariah and Asia Argento. None of them was seen in any record, whether in Academy City or elsewhere. It's like they never existed at all. This will not do, he thought, but never mind, it's not like he wasn't ready for unknown factors to be taken into account.
...But that was before this.
In the footage holographic screen, there was that same Azariah, who stood tall, with nothing but a Saint Benedict rosary in hand, lifting it up in silent defiance, as numerous unknown creatures of the dark that Crowley had never seen before were swarming around him like locusts throughout a certain rooftop in Tokiwadai.
But what really made up stop dead in his tracks, metaphorically speaking, was... There was Someone right behind this Azariah.
"...No," he muttered... in cold horror.
It... couldn't be.
There, just nearby, there was a hovering Crucifix, carried by a gentle series of clouds. From what is suggested, nobody was seeing it. Nobody. Except Crowley. There, on the Cross, was a Man of Sorrows, like a bleeding wound, yet His eyes and smile were so gentle that it made Crowley flinch completely because He felt seen, yet they were directed at Azariah, who isn't aware He is there. The words: I Am the Agonizing Jesus Christ Who Loves You, were seen on the very cross in red.
The very clouds themselves that carried the Cross of the Agonizing LORD, sang in tears of defiance.
"May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)."
And the ones who were freed, the BEDs that were struck down, with every movement from Azariah, who did not act like an experienced fighter, but with each touch from his hand, a part of his entire body, which was baptized and confirmed, and a rosary. Only this, he managed to set many of the inverted daimons free from their slavery, as they rose and joined the song of the invisible cloudly cherubim as they drew near to their LORD in the form of white gentle smoke.
"Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)."
...No, impossible. That... That can't be Him. That can't be God. Crowley wasn't recognizing anything. He, the master magician of all magic, and the one who divided the world as magic and as science, he who invented Thelema and embedded it within his own city with delicacy, he who defied God... is standing before Someone he does not recognize. This is not the God of the Christians he knew. No... Nothing like that is recorded. Not... Why...
"...It's...not magic," Crowley muttered in silent horror. "...I...I don't know what I'm looking at." He spoke in a careful whisper.
"Raaaghhh! Damn you, Nazarene!" echoed, in lion-like non-shouting voices, the countless rebel enslaved daimons, who had the form of men, women, and children who held expressions of silent horror, as they too could see Him. Their curses were for naught, as with every curse, grace answers back, through Azariah, who uses his sense of touch and the rosary. No special power. No special skill. He was no action hero. He was simply a man who wanted to save souls for the LORD who walked into Hell for him and for all.
"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)."
...What is this song? Of all the... Of all languages, why that? Crowley didn't understand, as he narrowed his eyes carefully. It's... Filipino. But why that language? What purpose? It's just like any other language. There would have been magic cabals in that very country as well, but... something was off about this song. Nothing was happening. But that was what made Crowley examine this carefully, because he could not classify this.
And... he checked, and saw, to his quiet shock... this wasn't isolated. Somehow, all of the broadcast stations in Academy City and around the world itself are seeing what Crowley was seeing. Crowley double checked his systems, and he found that none were interfered with. No sign of esper hacking. No sign of any magical attack from outside. Nothing. There's no trace. It's like the stations just turned on to the proper channel. But... where are the cameras?
Crowley checked. He... found no angle. Where were these angles coming from?
He gritted his teeth.
For what felt like the very first time, he felt a kind of terror that not even the Christian God could ever convey. Because this was no Christian God. This... This is an Unknown. Crowley doesn't know who He is. But he doesn't see wrath, instead he sees a too loving gaze that no one... no one could even replicate.
...This...This is impossible.
What is the entire point of this incident? Crowley needed to know. He... He needed to find some way to control the situation. But... something told him that this was beyond his control. No, it can't be. Crowley would find a way, he... what the hell is this GOD?
Across the entire world...
"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)."
Everyone stopped what they were doing as they looked, some with eyes widening, others with their breath taken away. From the television sets. From the digital devices. From the news broadcasts. From the internet. All social communications were broadcasting the same event.
Of a mysterious nineteen-year-old young man―Azariah―who wielded nothing except his own body and a rosary. He was no fighter, but he simply charged quietly, careful in his steps, as he aimed his rosary and his other hand to touch the dark-eyed broken daimoniacs who drew near him.
"...What the hell?" says one Stiyl Magnus, looking at the TV with widened eyes, muttering as he was somewhere on a street corner in London. Three witches with black hats, his so-called apprentices, were hurdling towards him, shaking in awe as they watched the battle.
Kaori Kanzaki, who was right beside him, couldn't say anything, as she was watching, shaking to the core.
They have seen plenty of things in their lifetime dealing with the magic side, especially for those who worked for Necessarius. But never this. Something was literally happening on the rooftops of Tokiwadai. They saw monstrous, dark-eyed beings who were coming out from every direction, chanting with a non-shouting declaration: "Death to the adopted son of the Most High and of that Woman," on repeat, raising their hands like frenzied animals. And Azariah somehow moved quickly, using his hand or feet here to engage with every touch, or using his own rosary to place it on any incoming shadows.
With every swipe, more of the broken daimonic rose purified as white, gentler smoke that rose like sweet incense and sang that song.
"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)."
Kanzaki held her heart steady. She couldn't dare ask Stiyl what was happening. It didn't even look like Stiyl himself had a clue what he was seeing. They both knew one thing. This didn't belong to their side, nor to the science side. It felt... too pure.
And they noticed, as much as everyone else, the screens showing countless more daimoniacs that arose from the earthly abyss, like endless shadows taking the form of men, women, and children who charged and crawled the walls to get near the rooftop. Their eyes were pitch dark, weeping and with teeth gnashing in absolute silence, like their voices are deader than dead.
"...What the hell are these things?" Stiyl looked at these strange creatures. Something felt too off with them. They felt... ancient. It was like they predate most of the magic side's history. Kanzaki couldn't help but put her hand to her sword's hilt, twitching a bit. It felt... too evil. That's the only word anyone who was watching can describe.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Stiyl would grab his phone from his pocket and turn it on, putting it to his ear. "Yeah, it's me." He spoke grimly, before what he heard from the phone made him pause. "...Wait, you're telling me the entire world is literally seeing this?" He said, which made Kanzaki and the three witches look at him in shock.
They all looked back and saw this young man driving these mysterious evils back, setting them free with nothing but a touch and a rosary unlike any other. He never spoke any magic spell, nor even conjured an ability. He simply fought and stood his ground against the monstrous tsunamis that were now crawling out and manifesting throughout Tokiwadai, all directed at him.
...Who is that man? They, and everyone else on the magic side, thought.
Before, the magic side had worried for, and were interested in the Imagine Breaker that just happened to be the right arm of one Touma Kamijou. Now? Now they had another greater worry. Who is that man on screen? What kind of power is he even tapping? What... What kind of God is He even invoking here...?
That was the last part. This felt unrecognizable to any magic system they've ever seen.
"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)."
Not Kami. Not God. Specifically, Diyos. That was the song's central theme, echoed by these mysterious freed daimons who rose like white smoke toward somewhere no eye could follow.
Stiyl clenched his teeth from the inside, grimacing. Something told him... the entire world would not be the same after this. If all of the magic side is watching, then everyone's probably feeling the same thing, for the first time, united in one common thought. Fear.
...Somewhere. On a sidewalk.
...There was a blonde Jewish necromancer named Esther Rosenthal.
And she kneeled. Her tears were seen, leaking from her face. Her mouth covered with her red glove, as she beheld something she never dared to conjecture. While most did not see as they watched the broadcast, Esther would see it.
Up in the skies, there was a gentle gaze that was directed at the young man who did battle against an endless tsunami of dark-eyed, broken daimoniacs. It came from a Man of Sorrows, on an Agonizing Crucifix, gently hovered by clouds... no, they weren't clouds. They were real angels who assumed the shape of clouds.
And Esther uttered the one cry that every Jew around her world would say if they saw. "...Adonai."
And the cherubim, as clouds, sang like gentle melodies, confirming it. Yes, it is He, YHWH Elohim, the GOD of Israel.
"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)."
Across the world, every Jew around the world, the only ones aside from Esther who saw the vision, dropped to their knees in absolute tears and reverential fear. The Liberator who struck Egypt down... came for them once again.
And, as if unexpectedly, "My little magician, My little daughter," says gently the Agonizing Man of Sorrows, whose gaze now was directed at Esther, which made her voice pitch, like seeing the Holy Face of the Father of her people looking at her. "Thus says the LORD, your FATHER, return to the city of science. You are to meet with My lost son who does not know me, Accelerator, once again. Be there for him. He would need you in the times to come. Amen, I say to you, just as in the days of Egypt, I will do so now, as you see before you, you will see more wonders, wonders that your world no longer remembers, for it had none of it from the beginning. The time has come... for this world to remember me again, as I Am."
Esther trembled before her new mission. But as a Jew, she couldn't help but mutter in tears. "...Let it be as you will, Adonai."
For it was only to all of the Jews that they were granted this vision, for they will serve as evangelizers, new John the Baptists, who will proclaim the true LORD who cannot be bound by magic or by science, for who is like YHWH Sabaoth who made the Heavens and the Earth?
...Frenda Seivelun didn't even know what to say anymore. She didn't know what to say. Not with... what's happening right now? She didn't even know what Azariah was supposed to be. Some punk who so happens to be more than a little too aware, with too much information that could get someone killed. That same punk who didn't hesitate to get her out of Mugino's crosshairs.
That same punk she's staring at... she's literally seeing him fighting strange creatures that she had no word for. The way he moved was almost like he did this naturally as he was breathing. Nothing but his own hands and a rosary was keeping these things back, freeing one by one, these monstrous creatures that turned into white smoke upon the impact of the sense of touch.
"...Wha...What's happening right now?" Kuroko Shirai muttered in concern as she was watching with wide eyes at something she couldn't even try to rationalize.
Join the club... Frenda didn't even know what she was looking at either. Why? Who the hell really is this punk? She didn't get it.
"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)."
Frenda bites her lip a little as she hears that same song of liberation again. Just... Just what the hell even is Azariah? He said that he was normal, but what she was seeing is anything but normal.
Shirai glanced at the walls as more kept pouncing. But she noticed that all of these BEDs weren't heading for Shirai or Frenda. They were gunning for Azariah, like he was the only one who mattered.
Shirai.. tried pulled herself together a little, sighing deeply. She needed to do something. She can't just... let a civilian fight for his own life without her helping him. And besides, her onee-sama did ask her to help him, so she should. Not that it means she wouldn't help him. But how would she?
Shirai had an idea. She may not be able to do what Azariah would do, but she can kick them away easily. And so, Shirai teleported for one blip, immediately stepping just near the front and kicking through three individual daimoniacs, sending them to Azariah, who purified them easily with a touch.
"Tck, back away, witch," spoke coldly one of the BEDs, a man in his 40s in appearance. "The Kirishitan is what we want. Go and play cops and robbers somewhere else."
"I'm sorry," Shirai steeled herself even as the gentle song affected her heart, before putting her hand towards her Judgment armband, with a resolve that cut through the noise. "But I cannot simply stand by and watch a civilian get hurt in front of me. You're going to have to deal with me, too." She spoke grimly, narrowing her eyes at the... she didn't even know what to call these things. They felt too... evil.
Azariah muttered softly. "Shirai-san..."
"...So be it, justice seeker," says the dark-eyed man who narrowed his eyes.
"Shirai-san, take this!" Azariah threw his Saint Benedict rosary towards Shirai, who managed to catch it with her right hand.
The dark-eyed humans were narrowing their eyes.
In a fiction trope, it's always faith first before the object, or object first before faith. But no, the BEDs knew that this is not how real sacramentals work. That rosary is blessed by the Church through its priest, so of course it carries an efficacy that can be used by anyone. The Most High just happens to be that merciful. That's what separates Him from every would-be god. Even non-believers can use His precious sacramentals to defend themselves.
"Just use it, but use it for justice like you always believed in, not as a weapon," Azariah spoke seriously, before dodging a strike from a BED, touching it, purifying it, and sending it flying in white smoke.
"Justice..." She muttered softly as she glanced at the sacramental that she was holding. Indeed, she felt something... odd when holding it. Nothing was happening to it. It was just an ordinary rosary. And yet...
"...Hmm," giggles mockingly one BED child who encircles around her. "I'm still wondering why that Kakure Kirishitan even bothered to give you that blasted chain. You believe in your science, correct? So why not use that on us, future girl?"
She flinched. That BED strangely had a point, as twisted as it sounded. Shirai... never really believed in anything that could not be explained rationally. But why? What's her reason? Shirai never really thought too much about it. She was more of a modern, futuristic kind of girl, going with the flow and seeing the wonders of how scientific progress advanced to the point where she never seemed to bother much about actually learning about the past.
After all, when one can send shuttles into space for exploration, or even develop the prowess of the esper's own abilities, what use would there be for traditions of the past other than them being a footnote.
But then...
"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)."
She flinched as she heard the gentle lullaby again from freed daimons due to Azariah's touch. Shirai was holding the rosary tightly now. The same daimoniacs now frowned considerably.
"Damn, stop ruining our fun, Nazarene," the BED child looked ticked, for its tricks were breaking down from the song. More of its kind would try to dogpile the teleporter.
But she managed to quickly transport herself a few steps away, before she tested the rosary on one BED woman, causing it to scream, as it broke down, and what came out was white luminous smoke that flew above.
The BEDs gritted their teeth like silent lions.
Shirai looked back at the rosary in her hand with quiet awe and contemplative expression. She did not truthfully understand anything. But...
"...I don't know what's happening, but..." she muttered, looking at the monsters with a glare as she "I'd at least know what justice is about. It's to keep people like you from hurting people, and from what I notice, it seems that this chain, as you call it, can set you all free." She said, gesturing to the rosary. "The way I see it, you're all enslaved by something. If this can set you free, then I'll do everything I can to do so."
"Tck," one of the BEDs, a male in his 35s, would click his tongue, waving his hand in a gesture to its fellow daimoniacs. "Keep focus on that Kakure Kirishitan. Kill him, the rest fall like dominoes."
"Then, you'll have to get through me first," Shirai spoke with conviction, quietly raising the rosary.
And, as the BEDs would try to draw near, suddenly, much to Shirai's own surprise, the two once knocked out S.W.A.T. wearing corrupt Anti-Skill officers suddenly assisted, as one roared in defiance with a punch, with tears in his eyes, and another using his rifle, not to fire, but to perform a rifle butt. All of their attacks suddenly purified the BEDs, causing multiple white luminous smokes to rise like incense. It was not because they were baptized or confirmed like Azariah was. But rather...
As their tears in their eyes suggested, they had removed their own helmets; they just saw the real One behind all of their imperfect ideals, and their hearts could not help but realign.
"...Jus...Justice," says one of them, shakingly in tears, clenching his fists. "We...We were wrong. We were always the traitors, but Justice... came for us anyway."
The multiple dark-eyed daimoniacs noticed, to their quiet, cold, and solemn horror, a faith ignited like a blaze. They've seen this before, from the greatest of sinners who were never baptized, yet the Mercy of the Most High still reached them.
"...Jou-chan," says the other man, talking to the surprised Shirai. "When this is over... we will turn ourselves in, and confess everything to Judgment of everything us and our comrades have done as part of the dark side of Academy City. Right now... S.W.A.T. stands before the Justice of the Victim-High Priest, True Prophet, and Sovereign King, Panginoong Hesukristo, because we are soldiers of Justice!"
And... as if in response, a Woman's echoing mediating voice sang in tears of advocating defiance, as the Gebirah of the New Covenant.
"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)"
And the two men charged with vigor. Among them, other S.W.A.T. who had regained consciousness, charged as well in tears, using their own fists and their broken weapons, once used for twisted murder masquerading as justice, turned instead towards the offering of the Just One, assisting the adopted son of the Just One, Azariah, who, with his own hands, continually purifies.
"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)"
Shirai gripped the rosary in her hand, as she sees... what may as well be impossible in every rational, circumspect. Not supernatural miracles of divine wonders, but rather, a changing of hearts in the blink of an eye.
"...Justice," she muttered softly, her heart shaking as her eyes couldn't help but watch the spectacle. Was this... really what Justice is like?
Frenda, who was still on the floor, had her mouth open. She... She could not even explain what was happening. She could not even comprehend it. Actual dark side members, willing to confess everything and turn themselves in, and help out? That... just does not happen. There were far too many things happening at once that should not happen. Why was this happening? She didn't understand anymore.
Her lips quivered. What was once a moment when her own survival was at stake, now she bore witness to things she could not understand, because she had no words for it.
On the ground of Tokiwadai, there was Shizuri Mugino.
Her quiet, almost obsessive goal to gut Frenda and her so-called boyfriend like a fish was... subdued, and what replaced it was a predator trying to observe the unexplainable. She was twitching, her hands clenching in a different way, her eyes seeing the impossible before her. Countless swarms of whatever the hell these things are, with darker eyes that held tsunamis' worth of filth that brought more of its kind. And then there were the...
"For Paginoong Diyos who is Justice! Quis ut Deus?!" exclaims the many mobilized S.W.A.T. men who were coming out from vehicular armored trucks, aiming their rifles, no longer for their dark side ideals, but for the Just One, as they shot down the countless daimoniacs in sight, with each one somehow purifying them on the spot. These were not blessed rifles. They were ordinary ones, used for the murder of even so-called traitorous children, but now used in defiance against the systematic enslavery machine of damnation. They carried the same riot shields, once used for cruelty, now used for mercy as it smashed through the growling ranks of the daimoniacs and purified ten by ten by ten.
"...What, the, hell, is happening?" Mugino muttered, darkly and disturbed, as she looked at the spectacle around her.
"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)"
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)"
Mugino flinched. A Woman's voice. It echoed throughout Tokiwadai. Or rather, echoed throughout Academy City. A Woman that she could not see, that no one could see, and yet Her voice echoed throughout the city like it was the most natural thing in the world. What made it worse was that she both felt seen and was completely irrelevant. Seen, because it felt like Someone was watching all of her, not just now, but in her own dark past as well as approximate future. Irrelevant, because nobody was really paying attention to her, a Level 5, her, the one who clawed through everything to get to her spot.
She hated feeling irrelevant. And yet, she felt a disturbance. But it was fear. Fear that everything was catching up to her like some mini-judgment.
Why couldn't she move? She had better things to do like... like hunting Frenda down... but it felt like it didn't even matter anymore, not with everything she's seeing here. She couldn't even shout and voice her own autonomy. She was simply the observer this time, witnessing things she doesn't even have a fucking dictionary for.
In another corner of Tokiwadai, there was Mikoto Misaka. And she was currently numb, as her mouth opened a little in awe and shaken wonder.
Ever since this started, she had tried to head over to where Kuroko was currently at, but she, and with her, Misaki Shokuhou, were surrounded by these things with dark eyes. Shokuhou explained, in that pale tone that was not like the Shokuhou that Misaka knew, that these things that surrounded them were the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs), one of several rebel daimones intelligent races that were essentially the equivalent of grunt soldiers for the Evil One's primordial regime. A multi-origin, multi-faceted, multi-definition armed force of rapid deployment when necessary, and surveillance and control of worlds being the ordinary operation.
Good news? Compared to that Azazel freak that they've encountered earlier, Misaka's powers can clearly work on these things, using her lightning to swipe through them all like confetti. But the real problem? These things keep coming from out of nowhere, from every corner. There was literally no end to these abominations.
Shokuhou was effectively useless, however. She couldn't really enter into the minds of these daimoniacs without risking potential compromise. She explained it as this: "These daimoniacs are too dangerous to peer into. Their minds are completely and already hijacked by an Intelligence that knew the power of the mind better than I."
In other words, she's currently useless, which forced Misaka into guard duty, trying to protect themselves against the swarm. Hokaze is currently tending to Asia, last they heard, as she got a little wounded during Mugino's busting of the clubroom. Misaka never really did like that woman. She had wondered what that woman was even doing now, considering...
"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)"
...Yes, that. Misaka, crackling with her lightning from her own two hands, glances at the trembling Shokuhou, whose widening starry eyes were looking upward, just in the direction of the rooftop where Azariah, Frenda, and Shirai currently were.
She once asked when this first started, "What's gotten into you?"
"...You...You don't see Him?" Shokuhou trembled in disbelief, tears threatening to fall into her face.
"...Him?" Misaka asked, confused yet concerned.
But Shokuhou never answered further. Though Misaka had a hunch. She's seeing something again. It's kind of obvious, considering Misaka can hear these strange songs that echo all over Tokiwadai. She glanced in every direction, and she saw the very affected Tokiwadai students. Just imagine. This was just like any other day, talking about the latest fashion trend, the latest clique activity, the latest every other thing that got girls from Tokiwadai interested, that Misaka, for the most part, doesn't really pay much attention to.
Now, they were all struck dumb, trembling from their feet, as they heard the same motherly voice singing.
"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)"
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)"
She glanced, and of course, she would see the many members of S.W.A.T. using their rifles and shields to charge against the daimoniacs who were swarming in endless numbers with an ancient aggressiveness that was reminiscent of ancient conflicts predating sword fights. She observed these BEDs carefully. They clearly weren't amateurs. They moved like organized mobile infantry, knowing which pawns are to be sacrificed.
This wasn't just some aggressive response force. This was purely calculated.
"That bastard Azazel, does he have something to do with this?" she asked herself grimly, while forming her ironsand sword. It had to be. If what Shokuhou even said was even remotely true, this bastard set this entire thing up. He's taking this Azariah person very seriously. No stealth. No delays. Simply pure force. But even that hid something else.
...What the hell was Satan's second-in-command planning for their world?
Misaka was the punch first, ask questions later kind of person. She hated thinking of the long-term consequences. She wasn't stupid enough to do it. She just wanted to get the simplest, practical solution to everything. That's how she usually deals with problems. In a sense, she was the exact opposite of Shokuhou. Now, she's forced to think of the long-term consequences, because right now, unlike before, the Enemy isn't a human with ill intentions or psychopathic tendencies, it's... something that's played puppet master across Creation long before she and Shokuhou were even born.
How the hell do you even fight this kind of madness?
"Tck, just how many more of these BEDs are there?" Misaka used one of her feet to send a part of electricity through the floor in straightforward, calculated precision, which crushed through numerous dark-eyed daimoniacs, who... are seen transforming into white smoke that sang and proclaimed a kind of Mercy that was too nonsensical.
"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)."
...That's been happening ever since this started. This is not Misaka's doing. For whatever reason, every time she swats them, she's somehow―not her, but something else through her―releasing them from something that... god knows what the hell happened to these things. Shokuhou had said that they were enslaved intelligences. Literal slaves of an empire ruled by an Evil One. Slaves. She didn't like it already. Imagine someone twisted enough to break your mind into becoming a living drone under your thrall. Because that's exactly what the BEDs are. Drones mimicking their Dark Master.
As Misaka slashed through another BED that drew near stupidly, she was thinking about what was really going on here. Clearly, Hell wanted this Azariah person gone. As in, gone to the point where even his existence is no longer a threat, kind of gone. From what she could get from Shokuhou, Azariah had no actual powers, no special skills, just a normal human.
No, that didn't even sound right. Azariah's humanity is too different.
That led Misaka to really think. If Azariah's humanity was different and they were the true humans, then what were they even? She and the rest are human, but what else? What did Azariah and the true human race that he came from have that not even Misaka and the rest of her world's humanity ever did?
"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)"
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)"
Misaka flinched, hearing the gentle song of the Woman. At the same time, Misaka unleashed a wave of lightning from her entire body, which rippled across the courtyard, sending multiple of these violent daimoniacs flying and crashing, breaking like vases that release luminous white smoke.
"The Most High's Love is not and never welcome here," declares coldly, without shouting, stating law, coming from one of the BEDs, who looks like a high school girl with a sailor fuku, before she got knocked over by a nearby S.W.A.T. person who fired at her.
...Was that really it? Misaka thought grimly, clenching her fists like thunder. Was that really what it meant to be human? Not how people define themselves by their beliefs, but rather, it's how there is Someone up there who loves them? That was the answer? Then... what was the entire point?
...Except that Someone did become human.
That's what rattled these things, these BEDs that were declaring a statement as if it were the fundamental law of their empire. They didn't want Love. Anything is preferable. Love wasn't. That was the entire crux of the problem. You can staple anything into love. But don't let it be Love itself. Was it something that simple? But that's the point that disturbed her.
...What kind of insanity do these things even spout out of their mouths? They want everything... except Love. What really is love? An emotion? A mental condition? A choice? A nature? Something so simple, Misaka never really likes to think too deeply. Like, what's the point of thinking about any of this? Like, isn't love just... you know, about caring for the people you're close to? Family, friends, and... no, she was not gonna count that idiot, no way. Isn't it just that?
But all of those always had something of a "But then what?" every single time you try to put a definition on it. It always presupposed something. Something that should be there, but there are no words to really describe it.
...And this was that battlefield. The one she's fighting right now.
"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)"
Her electricity flowed through her, as natural as the blood flowed through her veins, as she was once again seeing more than a hundred BEDs who prowled in animalistic, silent movements, with raised arms like they were the claws of a lion. Their dark eyes were narrowing at her cautiously, like lions, and through those same eyes, more of them were just lying in wait from the deepest oceanic abyss.
It was like they knew. They could sense the conflict within her, and to them, that was a bad thing. When people actually started to think outside their box, that was already unpredictable, and it could potentially sway in favor of the Sovereign Good. That was how this worked in reality.
"...Why think of love, you who could control the power of lightning from your own hand? It's a waste of the mind to dwell in such things," says one of the BEDs, who looked like a woman in her 20s.
Misaka gritted her teeth as she aimed her lightning at them. "I don't need questions coming out of you freaks?" She blasted them with casual ease, as all of the BEDs were thrown out of her way. No... she felt something darker. It was a simple evasion tactic. A psychological tactic.
...Damn it, these things were deliberately trying to mess with her. She thought in silent horror before resolving like steel. Shokuhou wasn't kidding; these things were dangerous. They'd use even her own feelings against her.
Misaka would quietly glance at Shokuhou, still looking upward, with one of her gloved hands tightening near her chest. Misaka called out. "Oi, Shokuhou."
Shokuhou glanced at her. Even though she was seeing Him again, her awareness was much clearer.
"You've got any ideas on how we should deal with these BEDs. They just keep coming?" Misaka was asking, not just for a practical solution, but to at least get some idea, any idea, on how to fight and apply whatever's necessary, because Misaka didn't like the way these BEDs were going, seemingly acting all reasonable, but it felt like there was always a catch.
"...I've said this before," Shokuhou muttered, looking at Misaka seriously. "There's no end to these monsters. Endless doesn't even begin to describe just how many there are in terms of populations. But, it's not just about the numbers, Misaka-san, it's a deliberate psychological tactic to make most people think of the numbers, but not the intent."
"Then what?" Misaka asked a little desperately, before she slashed another BED with her ironsand sword. "There's got to be something, anything, like I don't know, that Azazel bastard doing something in the city while we do this?"
"What makes you think he hasn't already before this even started, Misaka-san?" Shokuhou reminded grimly. "Remember, this thing has been observing rational lifeforms of every variant and evolution since forever; so whatever we think, he already knows exactly what it is via empirical observation proper to his mode of affairs. Our every action to him is frankly predictable."
"Tck," Misaka clicked her tongue in irritation and concern. "There has to be something, like a blind spot or I don't know, anything really, just to cut off the numbers of these freaks."
"You're still thinking this thing has limits like we do, Misaka-san," Shokuhou corrected grimly, her starry eyes were narrowing in caution. "This thing, Azazel, is a fallen pure intelligence, the First Cherub, who would know mysteries greater than all of our science combined. He doesn't have blind spots the same way we do. We can't outwit him with our own will because his intelligence is on a completely different level. Forget trying to outsmart that monster, the best thing right now is to survive and resist."
Misaka didn't like it. She didn't like the answer. This is madness. Then, she glanced at the Tokiwadai students around the corner, all frozen and watching. Wait... she noticed something. These BEDs aren't gunning for the other students of Tokiwadai. This isn't mindless destruction, it's something else.
"...Why is it we're the only ones being attacked?" Misaka asked grimly. "Why not the rest of Tokiwadai?"
"Because they don't know, Misaka-san, not like us," Shokuhou grimly stated. "Ignorance is bliss, as they say, but that had always been a lie. Ignorance is enslavement. We were all blind, so why would the Kingdom of the Inferno bother the ones who are already under its enslavement?"
Misaka clenched her teeth under her grimace. She didn't like what Shokuhou was implying.
"...The Kingdom of the Inferno, like any kingdom, has its subjects and its slaves. Of course, who would be the slaves? The ones who play a role, who are given a purpose to define their own narrative or someone else's narrative. All of this, and Ha-Satanas doesn't even need to lift a finger. We're just playing along, thinking we want peace, but ignorance isn't peace; it's a self-delusion of paradise, and you and I both know that Academy City isn't all sunshine and rainbows."
"But," Misaka objected a little while, slashing through more of the infernal daimoniacs. "What about this? The songs that we're hearing. Everyone's hearing it, aren't they?"
"Misaka-san, that's the thing, that's not enough," Shokuhou explained grimly. "Even if it's more than clear that the signs are happening, it's... and I never thought I would say this, it's the heart that matters in the end. Everyone in Tokiwadai still has a choice. They could try to look into it, or maybe pretend that this never happened. Either way, there is no escape from this; this will haunt them all to the very end. You and I both know how shallow humans, our humans, can be. This is but a first drop, not the whole package, because... Tenshu-sama's just that merciful," Shokuhou spoke with a broken smile.
Misaka gritted her teeth as she flicked her lightning to another batch of dark-eyed daimoniacs, which purified them into white smoke.
And then...
Misaka and Shokuhou both realized. Hold on, what about Junko Hokaze? They both thought. While she doesn't know as much as Misaka and Shokuhou, she'd... she'd still be a walking target for these BEDs, because... Asia Argento's with her.
Shokuhou didn't waste time and contacted Hokaze. After a few beeps, her call thankfully picked up.
"Queen?" Hokaze's voice echoed from the phone.
"Junko, is everything alright on your end?!" Shokuhou asked out of concern.
"Umm, actually, yes, my Queen, everything's fine. I'm at the clinic right now, keeping watch over Asia-san. There are also a few kind Anti-Skill personnel, who call themselves S.W.A.T., who are also guarding the clinic, so we're completely safe," Hokaze explained calmly from the phone, before looking at the window and seeing the chaos at Tokiwadai with a concerned frown.
"...Thank goodness," Shokuhou sighed in relief, looking at Misaka, muttering. "Junko's fine. I suppose the BEDs did not actually see any tactical value in targeting her." She held her phone back and talked to Hokaze. "Junko, listen, contact Kobayashi, tell her to tell the rest of the clique to assist in moving all of the students somewhere safer. Make contact as well with Gaouin-san," she said, recalling the Vice President of the Student Council. "Work with the student council to alleviate the situation."
"Alright, I understand, my Queen," Hokaze nodded grimly.
Shokuhou turned off her phone as she looked at Misaka. "In any case, Misaka-san, perhaps we should head to the rooftop and regroup with Shirai-san."
"Alright," Misaka sighs quietly, before walking towards Shokuhou. "Beats to having to stay in one place." She said, before quietly carrying Shokuhou, who on any other day, would complain about the sudden princess carry, but considering the circumstances, there were far more urgent concerns. "Hang on." Misaka muttered grimly before she propelled herself with the use of her lightning, which strengthened the joints of her legs, blasting off like a rocket and sticking to the walls.
Song Begins:
www.youtube.com
...Somewhere in Academy City.
Amongst all of the people who stopped and watched the blips, screens, and devices that were broadcasting the event where Azariah's actions had caused such a ripple that made everyone look, regardless of who he or she is, there were three members of ITEM.
There was Shiage Hamazura, sporting an expression of shock, while holding a shaken Rikou Takitsubo, who had miraculously recovered from her overdose of her use of a specific drug that enhances her power. But ever since this started, Takitsubo suddenly no longer felt the poison, and she felt so much better, like she never actually had any problems.
"...What is...super happening?" says one Saiai Kinuhata, who muttered with a pale expression.
Hamazura couldn't answer. He couldn't. He watched and literally saw the impossible before him. Various men, from a corrupt dark side organization, S.W.A.T. as they call themselves, declared over and over, with tears in their eyes, as if they finally saw and were awake at last.
"For Paginoong Diyos who is Justice! Quis ut Deus?!" they keep saying, over and over, as they aggressively struck down the swarm of dark-eyed humanoids who were screeching coldly in defiance at such proximity of faith that burned like fire, raising their hands like claws to scratch, but the men fought ferociously even if some landed a scratch. They used any weapon they had: rifle, shield, baton, all of it, used and somehow were effective against these things that felt... not even dark, just outright evil.
"...Diyos," Hamazura tested the words, and... he felt his jaded heart crack. These people weren't even shouting about a kami, they were... they were proclaiming about Someone that no one had any actual words for.
And then, the song of the Woman respectfully quiets herself, as the sound of Her morning stars, of cherubim, sang in tears of liturgical defiance.
"Masdan mo, O Diyos ang lingkod mo.
Nanagbabalik loob sa iyo.
Bagamt di' marapat ay dumudulong sa 'yo.
Upang makamtan ang awa mo.
(Behold, O God, your servant.
He turns to you.
Although he is not worthy, he comes to you.
To obtain your mercy.)"
Everyone, including Hamazura and the two girls, felt their breath pitch, as they would see the sun quietly dimming its light, as if it were the afternoon, as if the sun acknowledged the presence of the Creator.
"For Paginoong Diyos who is Justice! Quis ut Deus?!" The gentle cherubic song aroused the feelings of the S.W.A.T. members who raised their fists and weapons, with tears in their eyes. Their movements were even more aggressive as they clashed and struck down the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs) who, no matter how many there are, they were getting crushed and purified, as countless smoke of pure white arose like incense that fly to Mercy after being denied of Him for too long.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Kinuhata couldn't help it, but she held on to Hamazura as if trying to anchor herself before something that... somehow made her felt like a normal child again after the dark side had stolen her innocence. Hamazura could barely even stand before the song, not because he was forced to kneel, but because his heavy load was crushed before this gentler song expressing who it actually was that was within the song.
He glanced and saw a couple of civilians already kneeling, in tears too ugly for words. Takitsubo, who he was carrying, was clenching his shirt, shaken and her eyes were threatening to cry. "...Ha...Hamazura..." she couldn't say anything more.
"Kaytagal kong nalayo sa 'yo.
At kayraming mga taong sinaktan ko.
At ang s'yang inisip ko ay kaginhawahan ko.
Pininid sa kapwa puso ko.
(I've been away from you for so long.
And I've hurt so many people.
And all I thought about was my comfort.
My heart was closed to others.)"
Hamazura gritted his teeth. It felt like judgment. But... it was too gentle to even call it that. It was only expressing what he and many other Level 0s around the city had all felt. Their dreams were crushed completely. Those who weren't 3s or 4s were at the bottom of the rung of society. No one ever cared for them. No one...
...So why now?
"...I'm...super scared now," Kinuhata muttered, trembling... and yet, her eyes couldn't help but shed tears that leaked through her cheeks.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
...For the very first time, it felt like...Hamazura didn't even feel like he needed to worry about surviving anymore.
"Kaya nga, O Diyos, kalugdan mo ang pagbabalik loob ko sa 'yo.
Diwa ko'y linisan mo.
Puso ko'y buksan mo.
Upang matugunan ang tawag mo.
(Therefore, O God, please accept my return to you.
Cleanse my spirit.
Open my heart.
To answer your call.)"
...Frenda Seivelun was holding her ears, not because they were hurting physically, but because... they were breaking her down. Stop it, that... this isn't... her thoughts were all jumbled up. Her eyes, against even her own feelings, were leaking in tears. No, why was she even crying? Why was she suddenly remembering all of the people she killed while being part of the dark side? Why was all this suddenly being offered back to her memory, and it hurts?
Her eyes were locked onto Azariah, who quietly stood tall, as he silently dodged every strike from the BEDs who coldly screeched for death against him, an adopted son of the Most High and of That Woman. How the hell is he this calm? Why is he not as affected as everybody else?
Even Kuroko Shirai, who held Azariah's Saint Benedict rosary, was heavily affected, and it took plenty of effort to concentrate, as she sees the impossible with her own eyes, people from the dark side shouting for "Panginoong Diyos." and proclaiming Him without hesitation as Justice.
For Frenda, this was... weird, even for these weirdos. And... even the sun was acting weird, dimming its light as if participating as well when the song was echoed by its Creator's cherubim.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
"...Stop it," Frenda finally broke down, her hands lifting out of her ears, speaking at last. But her tone was broken to pieces. She... didn't even know anything anymore. All of her sins were finally laid bare before her. She shouldn't even care. Why was she even caring? Why was it all coming back to her as if Someone was always there, grieving every single time she killed someone?
Misaka, carrying Shokuhou, was landing quietly, as Shokuhou placed her feet on the ground, yet she was trembling and shaking at the song as well. Even Misaka was... flinching at the song. It was making her recall even the sisters that she failed to save from Accelerator.
"...Mou, why..." Shokuhou muttered, trembling, as she hated crying all over again. "...Why is it always songs like this with You?"
And she looked upward, for she was the only one who saw Him, the Agonizing Crucified, who smiled forever, while His Cross was enthroned by the Cherubim who were taking the form of gentle yet firm clouds who kept singing.
"...That's...not fair..." Shokuhou muttered, in her tears.
"Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Whyyyyyyyyyyy?" Frenda was crying thoroughly, breaking down, as her thoughts were too broken to even try to rationalize. It felt meaningless. Everything was staring at her face.
...Why? Why was this song trying to save her? She... She didn't need... but she couldn't continue that thought.
Even the gentle winds were flowing across Academy City, for even the winds were praising their Creator, blowing through the rooftops.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Misaka couldn't help but feel a shiver; her arms were crossed as she looked at the dimmed sun. "...Just...who are you?" she trembled, as she never even felt anything this... majestic yet lowly.
...Touma Kamijou had no absolute idea what he was expecting when he was stepping back into Academy City and meeting Index again.
Speaking of Index, she was already kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth, her tears were dropping through her emerald eyes. Why? Because of what they, and everyone else, are seeing right now. Everyone around the world was watching the strangest thing. It was strange, and this was coming from Kamijou, who had seen plenty of strange in the magic side and science side.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Kamijou gulped at the echoing gentle song of the hidden cherubim. His eyes bore witness to a battle, that didn't feel like a battle so much as salvation, as he sees countless daimoniacs with dark eyes getting smacked into white pure smoke that rose and joined in the song of the cherubim. He glanced at Index, who was still crying in tears.
"...Uhh, Index?" Kamijou tried, as much as he could, to talk to Index. The silver-haired nun slowly glanced at him. Kamijou flinched a little, trying to be delicate. "...Do...Do you know what this is?" he asked, hesitantly, even though he felt this was a stupid question.
Index shook her head immediately, crying in tears. "No... No... this isn't magic. I know magic, Touma, this isn't it. This isn't anything I could see from any forbidden book. I... It's... not anything anyone has ever seen before."
Kamijou hesitantly glanced back at the nearby screen that showed the battle. It had been lasting for a very long while. Probably... an hour, he thinks? He could even see on screen, Misaka, who was right there on the rooftop, who was right at the thick of it, just as affected as everybody else. Could Kamijou blame her? This was weird, even for Academy City.
But Kamijou couldn't help but feel uneasy on the inside as he heard the echoing shouts of these men who wore Anti-Skill uniforms, who proclaimed... "Panginoong Diyos.". It wasn't said in Japanese; it was said in another language.
Not Kami. Diyos. Not Deus. Diyos. Not God. Diyos.
Even the songs were proclaiming this "Diyos.". Kamijou was uneasy... because it was too gentle. It didn't even feel like wrath or anything Kamijou could understand. He doesn't know what hé's looking at.
He doesn't feel any kind of threat. That was the problem. He has no understanding for what he's seeing. There's no assessing. All he sees is Salvation happening in real time, and it wasn't breaking anything, it was setting whatever these things were, these dark-eyed beings, free, as they rose like white smoke towards somewhere Kamijou doesn't even know where.
Even the sun was acting weird. Even the winds were acting weird. And... were those twinkling stars in the middle of the day? He sees the twinkling stars blink in rapid succession across the blanket night skies that complement the afternoon tide.
If this wasn't magic... what was it? He didn't even think that science could explain this. How could one explain the literal sky acting like this?
And... how could one explain the fact that he was also slowly recalling his memories, from around the time when he sees Index when he had lost his memories up to now. For whatever reason, his memories were recontextualized. Someone is there. Someone he never knew. Someone who watched him, all of him, even the memories he no longer remembers.
That quietly frightened him more than any speech from a would-be villain or a magician with ends to justify the means.
"...Who...Who are you?" Kamijou asked, in quiet, reverent dread.
...It lasted for three hours. Three whole hours. And the whole world had stopped and watched, no matter where they were.
"Masdan mo, O Diyos ang lingkod mo.
Nanagbabalik loob sa iyo.
Bagamt di' marapat ay dumudulong sa 'yo.
Upang makamtan ang awa mo.
(Behold, O God, your servant.
He turns to you.
Although he is not worthy, he comes to you.
To obtain your mercy.)"
And eventually, the threat subsided, as the BEDs no longer came in endless numbers. The onslaught stopped. And yet, the song of the invisible cherubim was still heard everywhere. The sun still hadn't turned back to normal. The stars were still blinking. In fact, various birds flew across the skies in tighter formation, instinctively recognizing their Creator despite having no rational souls. These birds formed symbols in the sky, of the shape of a Sacred Heart and of a Chi-Rho, for all to see.
The battle was over. And all of the S.W.A.T. men threw their weapons down, because they were no longer needed, for these weapons that they once used for their own twisted justice were not worth it against the Justice who was the Victim-High Priest, True Prophet, and Sovereign King. There was now no shout of victory. Rather, many were kneeling in worship. Most were bowing their heads and letting their tears out before a gentler Justice.
Azariah? He was just kneeling in solemnity after the battle, making the Sign of the Cross, and quietly praying. Because he knew what this was. His Earth's history was full of miracles, especially Eucharistic ones. So he was not surprised like everyone else. He rather felt unworthy before such a miracle. Frenda, who was looking at Azariah, still had distraught tears in her eyes.
Shirai was looking with trembling lips at seeing the S.W.A.T. men just being in a posture of worship and reverent silence before the singing of invisible cherubim. She held Azariah's Saint Benedict rosary tighther. Was this... Was this truly what Justice is...?
"Kaytagal kong nalayo sa 'yo.
At kayraming mga taong sinaktan ko.
At ang s'yang inisip ko ay kaginhawahan ko.
Pininid sa kapwa puso ko.
(I've been away from you for so long.
And I've hurt so many people.
And all I thought about was my comfort.
My heart was closed to others.)"
Misaka quietly stood by Shirai, making sure her kouhai was alright. But truthfully, none of them were alright. She was still seeing the sun, the stars, and even the birds in the air, not acting as they normally would. The battle was over, but even the battle itself felt like a footnote.
Shokuhou continued to stare at the Agonizing Crucified with tears in her starry eyes. She was the only one on the rooftop who could truthfully see Him.
"...You asked, My little star, why I sent you back here?" The LORD's smile felt unbearable for her. "Why, My little star, My little daughter, did you think I would deprive you of seeing My miracles, as you are?"
Shokuhou felt her breath hitch, as her face grimaced into a deep frown and tears, bowing her head.
This? This is a miracle? No spectacle, but liberation for the lost? No grand proclamations, but fierce, wrathful mercy descending downward? No morality, but crossing even through broken systems just to touch the lowest?
What kind of miracle was that?
And yet...
Shokuhou couldn't bear it, looking at the Agonizing LORD who never wavered in His gentle smile, the same smile that made all worlds, including hers.
"Kaya nga, O Diyos, kalugdan mo ang pagbabalik loob ko sa 'yo.
Diwa ko'y linisan mo.
Puso ko'y buksan mo.
Upang matugunan ang tawag mo.
(Therefore, O God, please accept my return to you.
Cleanse my spirit.
Open my heart.
To answer your call.)"
"...Onee-sama," Shirai glanced at Misaka, trembling like a leaf.
"...Yeah, I know, Kuroko," Misaka muttered grimly, yet reverent and awed, as they both looked at the nightly skies, seeing the birds continually forming the Chi-Rho and the Sacred Heart.
...From this moment forward, things will never be the same for their world again. This was not the end. This was the first strike. More will follow.
"Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Song End:
No one could see doors, or stairs, or elevators, or hallways. One could not truthfully tell where to go. It was an impenetrable citadel in all, even in name. There, the greatest magician of the 20th century, Aleister Crowley, floating upside down in his tube, looked on with...
...A paled expression.
Why?
First off, one should start from the beginning. Through the security measures that he had installed throughout the city, he had detected the presence of two strange intruders with no record who somehow got transported here from somewhere. Eventually, he'd get a name. Azariah and Asia Argento. None of them was seen in any record, whether in Academy City or elsewhere. It's like they never existed at all. This will not do, he thought, but never mind, it's not like he wasn't ready for unknown factors to be taken into account.
...But that was before this.
In the footage holographic screen, there was that same Azariah, who stood tall, with nothing but a Saint Benedict rosary in hand, lifting it up in silent defiance, as numerous unknown creatures of the dark that Crowley had never seen before were swarming around him like locusts throughout a certain rooftop in Tokiwadai.
But what really made up stop dead in his tracks, metaphorically speaking, was... There was Someone right behind this Azariah.
"...No," he muttered... in cold horror.
It... couldn't be.
There, just nearby, there was a hovering Crucifix, carried by a gentle series of clouds. From what is suggested, nobody was seeing it. Nobody. Except Crowley. There, on the Cross, was a Man of Sorrows, like a bleeding wound, yet His eyes and smile were so gentle that it made Crowley flinch completely because He felt seen, yet they were directed at Azariah, who isn't aware He is there. The words: I Am the Agonizing Jesus Christ Who Loves You, were seen on the very cross in red.
The very clouds themselves that carried the Cross of the Agonizing LORD, sang in tears of defiance.
"May bukas pa sa iyong buhay
(There is still a tomorrow in your life)."
And the ones who were freed, the BEDs that were struck down, with every movement from Azariah, who did not act like an experienced fighter, but with each touch from his hand, a part of his entire body, which was baptized and confirmed, and a rosary. Only this, he managed to set many of the inverted daimons free from their slavery, as they rose and joined the song of the invisible cloudly cherubim as they drew near to their LORD in the form of white gentle smoke.
"Tutulungan ka ng Diyos na may lalang
(The Creator God will help you)."
...No, impossible. That... That can't be Him. That can't be God. Crowley wasn't recognizing anything. He, the master magician of all magic, and the one who divided the world as magic and as science, he who invented Thelema and embedded it within his own city with delicacy, he who defied God... is standing before Someone he does not recognize. This is not the God of the Christians he knew. No... Nothing like that is recorded. Not... Why...
"...It's...not magic," Crowley muttered in silent horror. "...I...I don't know what I'm looking at." He spoke in a careful whisper.
"Raaaghhh! Damn you, Nazarene!" echoed, in lion-like non-shouting voices, the countless rebel enslaved daimons, who had the form of men, women, and children who held expressions of silent horror, as they too could see Him. Their curses were for naught, as with every curse, grace answers back, through Azariah, who uses his sense of touch and the rosary. No special power. No special skill. He was no action hero. He was simply a man who wanted to save souls for the LORD who walked into Hell for him and for all.
"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)."
...What is this song? Of all the... Of all languages, why that? Crowley didn't understand, as he narrowed his eyes carefully. It's... Filipino. But why that language? What purpose? It's just like any other language. There would have been magic cabals in that very country as well, but... something was off about this song. Nothing was happening. But that was what made Crowley examine this carefully, because he could not classify this.
And... he checked, and saw, to his quiet shock... this wasn't isolated. Somehow, all of the broadcast stations in Academy City and around the world itself are seeing what Crowley was seeing. Crowley double checked his systems, and he found that none were interfered with. No sign of esper hacking. No sign of any magical attack from outside. Nothing. There's no trace. It's like the stations just turned on to the proper channel. But... where are the cameras?
Crowley checked. He... found no angle. Where were these angles coming from?
He gritted his teeth.
For what felt like the very first time, he felt a kind of terror that not even the Christian God could ever convey. Because this was no Christian God. This... This is an Unknown. Crowley doesn't know who He is. But he doesn't see wrath, instead he sees a too loving gaze that no one... no one could even replicate.
...This...This is impossible.
What is the entire point of this incident? Crowley needed to know. He... He needed to find some way to control the situation. But... something told him that this was beyond his control. No, it can't be. Crowley would find a way, he... what the hell is this GOD?
Across the entire world...
"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)."
Everyone stopped what they were doing as they looked, some with eyes widening, others with their breath taken away. From the television sets. From the digital devices. From the news broadcasts. From the internet. All social communications were broadcasting the same event.
Of a mysterious nineteen-year-old young man―Azariah―who wielded nothing except his own body and a rosary. He was no fighter, but he simply charged quietly, careful in his steps, as he aimed his rosary and his other hand to touch the dark-eyed broken daimoniacs who drew near him.
"...What the hell?" says one Stiyl Magnus, looking at the TV with widened eyes, muttering as he was somewhere on a street corner in London. Three witches with black hats, his so-called apprentices, were hurdling towards him, shaking in awe as they watched the battle.
Kaori Kanzaki, who was right beside him, couldn't say anything, as she was watching, shaking to the core.
They have seen plenty of things in their lifetime dealing with the magic side, especially for those who worked for Necessarius. But never this. Something was literally happening on the rooftops of Tokiwadai. They saw monstrous, dark-eyed beings who were coming out from every direction, chanting with a non-shouting declaration: "Death to the adopted son of the Most High and of that Woman," on repeat, raising their hands like frenzied animals. And Azariah somehow moved quickly, using his hand or feet here to engage with every touch, or using his own rosary to place it on any incoming shadows.
With every swipe, more of the broken daimonic rose purified as white, gentler smoke that rose like sweet incense and sang that song.
"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)."
Kanzaki held her heart steady. She couldn't dare ask Stiyl what was happening. It didn't even look like Stiyl himself had a clue what he was seeing. They both knew one thing. This didn't belong to their side, nor to the science side. It felt... too pure.
And they noticed, as much as everyone else, the screens showing countless more daimoniacs that arose from the earthly abyss, like endless shadows taking the form of men, women, and children who charged and crawled the walls to get near the rooftop. Their eyes were pitch dark, weeping and with teeth gnashing in absolute silence, like their voices are deader than dead.
"...What the hell are these things?" Stiyl looked at these strange creatures. Something felt too off with them. They felt... ancient. It was like they predate most of the magic side's history. Kanzaki couldn't help but put her hand to her sword's hilt, twitching a bit. It felt... too evil. That's the only word anyone who was watching can describe.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Stiyl would grab his phone from his pocket and turn it on, putting it to his ear. "Yeah, it's me." He spoke grimly, before what he heard from the phone made him pause. "...Wait, you're telling me the entire world is literally seeing this?" He said, which made Kanzaki and the three witches look at him in shock.
They all looked back and saw this young man driving these mysterious evils back, setting them free with nothing but a touch and a rosary unlike any other. He never spoke any magic spell, nor even conjured an ability. He simply fought and stood his ground against the monstrous tsunamis that were now crawling out and manifesting throughout Tokiwadai, all directed at him.
...Who is that man? They, and everyone else on the magic side, thought.
Before, the magic side had worried for, and were interested in the Imagine Breaker that just happened to be the right arm of one Touma Kamijou. Now? Now they had another greater worry. Who is that man on screen? What kind of power is he even tapping? What... What kind of God is He even invoking here...?
That was the last part. This felt unrecognizable to any magic system they've ever seen.
"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)."
Not Kami. Not God. Specifically, Diyos. That was the song's central theme, echoed by these mysterious freed daimons who rose like white smoke toward somewhere no eye could follow.
Stiyl clenched his teeth from the inside, grimacing. Something told him... the entire world would not be the same after this. If all of the magic side is watching, then everyone's probably feeling the same thing, for the first time, united in one common thought. Fear.
...Somewhere. On a sidewalk.
...There was a blonde Jewish necromancer named Esther Rosenthal.
And she kneeled. Her tears were seen, leaking from her face. Her mouth covered with her red glove, as she beheld something she never dared to conjecture. While most did not see as they watched the broadcast, Esther would see it.
Up in the skies, there was a gentle gaze that was directed at the young man who did battle against an endless tsunami of dark-eyed, broken daimoniacs. It came from a Man of Sorrows, on an Agonizing Crucifix, gently hovered by clouds... no, they weren't clouds. They were real angels who assumed the shape of clouds.
And Esther uttered the one cry that every Jew around her world would say if they saw. "...Adonai."
And the cherubim, as clouds, sang like gentle melodies, confirming it. Yes, it is He, YHWH Elohim, the GOD of Israel.
"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)."
Across the world, every Jew around the world, the only ones aside from Esther who saw the vision, dropped to their knees in absolute tears and reverential fear. The Liberator who struck Egypt down... came for them once again.
And, as if unexpectedly, "My little magician, My little daughter," says gently the Agonizing Man of Sorrows, whose gaze now was directed at Esther, which made her voice pitch, like seeing the Holy Face of the Father of her people looking at her. "Thus says the LORD, your FATHER, return to the city of science. You are to meet with My lost son who does not know me, Accelerator, once again. Be there for him. He would need you in the times to come. Amen, I say to you, just as in the days of Egypt, I will do so now, as you see before you, you will see more wonders, wonders that your world no longer remembers, for it had none of it from the beginning. The time has come... for this world to remember me again, as I Am."
Esther trembled before her new mission. But as a Jew, she couldn't help but mutter in tears. "...Let it be as you will, Adonai."
For it was only to all of the Jews that they were granted this vision, for they will serve as evangelizers, new John the Baptists, who will proclaim the true LORD who cannot be bound by magic or by science, for who is like YHWH Sabaoth who made the Heavens and the Earth?
...Frenda Seivelun didn't even know what to say anymore. She didn't know what to say. Not with... what's happening right now? She didn't even know what Azariah was supposed to be. Some punk who so happens to be more than a little too aware, with too much information that could get someone killed. That same punk who didn't hesitate to get her out of Mugino's crosshairs.
That same punk she's staring at... she's literally seeing him fighting strange creatures that she had no word for. The way he moved was almost like he did this naturally as he was breathing. Nothing but his own hands and a rosary was keeping these things back, freeing one by one, these monstrous creatures that turned into white smoke upon the impact of the sense of touch.
"...Wha...What's happening right now?" Kuroko Shirai muttered in concern as she was watching with wide eyes at something she couldn't even try to rationalize.
Join the club... Frenda didn't even know what she was looking at either. Why? Who the hell really is this punk? She didn't get it.
"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)."
Frenda bites her lip a little as she hears that same song of liberation again. Just... Just what the hell even is Azariah? He said that he was normal, but what she was seeing is anything but normal.
Shirai glanced at the walls as more kept pouncing. But she noticed that all of these BEDs weren't heading for Shirai or Frenda. They were gunning for Azariah, like he was the only one who mattered.
Shirai.. tried pulled herself together a little, sighing deeply. She needed to do something. She can't just... let a civilian fight for his own life without her helping him. And besides, her onee-sama did ask her to help him, so she should. Not that it means she wouldn't help him. But how would she?
Shirai had an idea. She may not be able to do what Azariah would do, but she can kick them away easily. And so, Shirai teleported for one blip, immediately stepping just near the front and kicking through three individual daimoniacs, sending them to Azariah, who purified them easily with a touch.
"Tck, back away, witch," spoke coldly one of the BEDs, a man in his 40s in appearance. "The Kirishitan is what we want. Go and play cops and robbers somewhere else."
"I'm sorry," Shirai steeled herself even as the gentle song affected her heart, before putting her hand towards her Judgment armband, with a resolve that cut through the noise. "But I cannot simply stand by and watch a civilian get hurt in front of me. You're going to have to deal with me, too." She spoke grimly, narrowing her eyes at the... she didn't even know what to call these things. They felt too... evil.
Azariah muttered softly. "Shirai-san..."
"...So be it, justice seeker," says the dark-eyed man who narrowed his eyes.
"Shirai-san, take this!" Azariah threw his Saint Benedict rosary towards Shirai, who managed to catch it with her right hand.
The dark-eyed humans were narrowing their eyes.
In a fiction trope, it's always faith first before the object, or object first before faith. But no, the BEDs knew that this is not how real sacramentals work. That rosary is blessed by the Church through its priest, so of course it carries an efficacy that can be used by anyone. The Most High just happens to be that merciful. That's what separates Him from every would-be god. Even non-believers can use His precious sacramentals to defend themselves.
"Just use it, but use it for justice like you always believed in, not as a weapon," Azariah spoke seriously, before dodging a strike from a BED, touching it, purifying it, and sending it flying in white smoke.
"Justice..." She muttered softly as she glanced at the sacramental that she was holding. Indeed, she felt something... odd when holding it. Nothing was happening to it. It was just an ordinary rosary. And yet...
"...Hmm," giggles mockingly one BED child who encircles around her. "I'm still wondering why that Kakure Kirishitan even bothered to give you that blasted chain. You believe in your science, correct? So why not use that on us, future girl?"
She flinched. That BED strangely had a point, as twisted as it sounded. Shirai... never really believed in anything that could not be explained rationally. But why? What's her reason? Shirai never really thought too much about it. She was more of a modern, futuristic kind of girl, going with the flow and seeing the wonders of how scientific progress advanced to the point where she never seemed to bother much about actually learning about the past.
After all, when one can send shuttles into space for exploration, or even develop the prowess of the esper's own abilities, what use would there be for traditions of the past other than them being a footnote.
But then...
"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)."
She flinched as she heard the gentle lullaby again from freed daimons due to Azariah's touch. Shirai was holding the rosary tightly now. The same daimoniacs now frowned considerably.
"Damn, stop ruining our fun, Nazarene," the BED child looked ticked, for its tricks were breaking down from the song. More of its kind would try to dogpile the teleporter.
But she managed to quickly transport herself a few steps away, before she tested the rosary on one BED woman, causing it to scream, as it broke down, and what came out was white luminous smoke that flew above.
The BEDs gritted their teeth like silent lions.
Shirai looked back at the rosary in her hand with quiet awe and contemplative expression. She did not truthfully understand anything. But...
"...I don't know what's happening, but..." she muttered, looking at the monsters with a glare as she "I'd at least know what justice is about. It's to keep people like you from hurting people, and from what I notice, it seems that this chain, as you call it, can set you all free." She said, gesturing to the rosary. "The way I see it, you're all enslaved by something. If this can set you free, then I'll do everything I can to do so."
"Tck," one of the BEDs, a male in his 35s, would click his tongue, waving his hand in a gesture to its fellow daimoniacs. "Keep focus on that Kakure Kirishitan. Kill him, the rest fall like dominoes."
"Then, you'll have to get through me first," Shirai spoke with conviction, quietly raising the rosary.
And, as the BEDs would try to draw near, suddenly, much to Shirai's own surprise, the two once knocked out S.W.A.T. wearing corrupt Anti-Skill officers suddenly assisted, as one roared in defiance with a punch, with tears in his eyes, and another using his rifle, not to fire, but to perform a rifle butt. All of their attacks suddenly purified the BEDs, causing multiple white luminous smokes to rise like incense. It was not because they were baptized or confirmed like Azariah was. But rather...
As their tears in their eyes suggested, they had removed their own helmets; they just saw the real One behind all of their imperfect ideals, and their hearts could not help but realign.
"...Jus...Justice," says one of them, shakingly in tears, clenching his fists. "We...We were wrong. We were always the traitors, but Justice... came for us anyway."
The multiple dark-eyed daimoniacs noticed, to their quiet, cold, and solemn horror, a faith ignited like a blaze. They've seen this before, from the greatest of sinners who were never baptized, yet the Mercy of the Most High still reached them.
"...Jou-chan," says the other man, talking to the surprised Shirai. "When this is over... we will turn ourselves in, and confess everything to Judgment of everything us and our comrades have done as part of the dark side of Academy City. Right now... S.W.A.T. stands before the Justice of the Victim-High Priest, True Prophet, and Sovereign King, Panginoong Hesukristo, because we are soldiers of Justice!"
And... as if in response, a Woman's echoing mediating voice sang in tears of advocating defiance, as the Gebirah of the New Covenant.
"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)"
And the two men charged with vigor. Among them, other S.W.A.T. who had regained consciousness, charged as well in tears, using their own fists and their broken weapons, once used for twisted murder masquerading as justice, turned instead towards the offering of the Just One, assisting the adopted son of the Just One, Azariah, who, with his own hands, continually purifies.
"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)"
Shirai gripped the rosary in her hand, as she sees... what may as well be impossible in every rational, circumspect. Not supernatural miracles of divine wonders, but rather, a changing of hearts in the blink of an eye.
"...Justice," she muttered softly, her heart shaking as her eyes couldn't help but watch the spectacle. Was this... really what Justice is like?
Frenda, who was still on the floor, had her mouth open. She... She could not even explain what was happening. She could not even comprehend it. Actual dark side members, willing to confess everything and turn themselves in, and help out? That... just does not happen. There were far too many things happening at once that should not happen. Why was this happening? She didn't understand anymore.
Her lips quivered. What was once a moment when her own survival was at stake, now she bore witness to things she could not understand, because she had no words for it.
On the ground of Tokiwadai, there was Shizuri Mugino.
Her quiet, almost obsessive goal to gut Frenda and her so-called boyfriend like a fish was... subdued, and what replaced it was a predator trying to observe the unexplainable. She was twitching, her hands clenching in a different way, her eyes seeing the impossible before her. Countless swarms of whatever the hell these things are, with darker eyes that held tsunamis' worth of filth that brought more of its kind. And then there were the...
"For Paginoong Diyos who is Justice! Quis ut Deus?!" exclaims the many mobilized S.W.A.T. men who were coming out from vehicular armored trucks, aiming their rifles, no longer for their dark side ideals, but for the Just One, as they shot down the countless daimoniacs in sight, with each one somehow purifying them on the spot. These were not blessed rifles. They were ordinary ones, used for the murder of even so-called traitorous children, but now used in defiance against the systematic enslavery machine of damnation. They carried the same riot shields, once used for cruelty, now used for mercy as it smashed through the growling ranks of the daimoniacs and purified ten by ten by ten.
"...What, the, hell, is happening?" Mugino muttered, darkly and disturbed, as she looked at the spectacle around her.
"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)"
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)"
Mugino flinched. A Woman's voice. It echoed throughout Tokiwadai. Or rather, echoed throughout Academy City. A Woman that she could not see, that no one could see, and yet Her voice echoed throughout the city like it was the most natural thing in the world. What made it worse was that she both felt seen and was completely irrelevant. Seen, because it felt like Someone was watching all of her, not just now, but in her own dark past as well as approximate future. Irrelevant, because nobody was really paying attention to her, a Level 5, her, the one who clawed through everything to get to her spot.
She hated feeling irrelevant. And yet, she felt a disturbance. But it was fear. Fear that everything was catching up to her like some mini-judgment.
Why couldn't she move? She had better things to do like... like hunting Frenda down... but it felt like it didn't even matter anymore, not with everything she's seeing here. She couldn't even shout and voice her own autonomy. She was simply the observer this time, witnessing things she doesn't even have a fucking dictionary for.
In another corner of Tokiwadai, there was Mikoto Misaka. And she was currently numb, as her mouth opened a little in awe and shaken wonder.
Ever since this started, she had tried to head over to where Kuroko was currently at, but she, and with her, Misaki Shokuhou, were surrounded by these things with dark eyes. Shokuhou explained, in that pale tone that was not like the Shokuhou that Misaka knew, that these things that surrounded them were the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs), one of several rebel daimones intelligent races that were essentially the equivalent of grunt soldiers for the Evil One's primordial regime. A multi-origin, multi-faceted, multi-definition armed force of rapid deployment when necessary, and surveillance and control of worlds being the ordinary operation.
Good news? Compared to that Azazel freak that they've encountered earlier, Misaka's powers can clearly work on these things, using her lightning to swipe through them all like confetti. But the real problem? These things keep coming from out of nowhere, from every corner. There was literally no end to these abominations.
Shokuhou was effectively useless, however. She couldn't really enter into the minds of these daimoniacs without risking potential compromise. She explained it as this: "These daimoniacs are too dangerous to peer into. Their minds are completely and already hijacked by an Intelligence that knew the power of the mind better than I."
In other words, she's currently useless, which forced Misaka into guard duty, trying to protect themselves against the swarm. Hokaze is currently tending to Asia, last they heard, as she got a little wounded during Mugino's busting of the clubroom. Misaka never really did like that woman. She had wondered what that woman was even doing now, considering...
"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)"
...Yes, that. Misaka, crackling with her lightning from her own two hands, glances at the trembling Shokuhou, whose widening starry eyes were looking upward, just in the direction of the rooftop where Azariah, Frenda, and Shirai currently were.
She once asked when this first started, "What's gotten into you?"
"...You...You don't see Him?" Shokuhou trembled in disbelief, tears threatening to fall into her face.
"...Him?" Misaka asked, confused yet concerned.
But Shokuhou never answered further. Though Misaka had a hunch. She's seeing something again. It's kind of obvious, considering Misaka can hear these strange songs that echo all over Tokiwadai. She glanced in every direction, and she saw the very affected Tokiwadai students. Just imagine. This was just like any other day, talking about the latest fashion trend, the latest clique activity, the latest every other thing that got girls from Tokiwadai interested, that Misaka, for the most part, doesn't really pay much attention to.
Now, they were all struck dumb, trembling from their feet, as they heard the same motherly voice singing.
"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)"
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)"
She glanced, and of course, she would see the many members of S.W.A.T. using their rifles and shields to charge against the daimoniacs who were swarming in endless numbers with an ancient aggressiveness that was reminiscent of ancient conflicts predating sword fights. She observed these BEDs carefully. They clearly weren't amateurs. They moved like organized mobile infantry, knowing which pawns are to be sacrificed.
This wasn't just some aggressive response force. This was purely calculated.
"That bastard Azazel, does he have something to do with this?" she asked herself grimly, while forming her ironsand sword. It had to be. If what Shokuhou even said was even remotely true, this bastard set this entire thing up. He's taking this Azariah person very seriously. No stealth. No delays. Simply pure force. But even that hid something else.
...What the hell was Satan's second-in-command planning for their world?
Misaka was the punch first, ask questions later kind of person. She hated thinking of the long-term consequences. She wasn't stupid enough to do it. She just wanted to get the simplest, practical solution to everything. That's how she usually deals with problems. In a sense, she was the exact opposite of Shokuhou. Now, she's forced to think of the long-term consequences, because right now, unlike before, the Enemy isn't a human with ill intentions or psychopathic tendencies, it's... something that's played puppet master across Creation long before she and Shokuhou were even born.
How the hell do you even fight this kind of madness?
"Tck, just how many more of these BEDs are there?" Misaka used one of her feet to send a part of electricity through the floor in straightforward, calculated precision, which crushed through numerous dark-eyed daimoniacs, who... are seen transforming into white smoke that sang and proclaimed a kind of Mercy that was too nonsensical.
"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)."
...That's been happening ever since this started. This is not Misaka's doing. For whatever reason, every time she swats them, she's somehow―not her, but something else through her―releasing them from something that... god knows what the hell happened to these things. Shokuhou had said that they were enslaved intelligences. Literal slaves of an empire ruled by an Evil One. Slaves. She didn't like it already. Imagine someone twisted enough to break your mind into becoming a living drone under your thrall. Because that's exactly what the BEDs are. Drones mimicking their Dark Master.
As Misaka slashed through another BED that drew near stupidly, she was thinking about what was really going on here. Clearly, Hell wanted this Azariah person gone. As in, gone to the point where even his existence is no longer a threat, kind of gone. From what she could get from Shokuhou, Azariah had no actual powers, no special skills, just a normal human.
No, that didn't even sound right. Azariah's humanity is too different.
That led Misaka to really think. If Azariah's humanity was different and they were the true humans, then what were they even? She and the rest are human, but what else? What did Azariah and the true human race that he came from have that not even Misaka and the rest of her world's humanity ever did?
"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)"
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)"
Misaka flinched, hearing the gentle song of the Woman. At the same time, Misaka unleashed a wave of lightning from her entire body, which rippled across the courtyard, sending multiple of these violent daimoniacs flying and crashing, breaking like vases that release luminous white smoke.
"The Most High's Love is not and never welcome here," declares coldly, without shouting, stating law, coming from one of the BEDs, who looks like a high school girl with a sailor fuku, before she got knocked over by a nearby S.W.A.T. person who fired at her.
...Was that really it? Misaka thought grimly, clenching her fists like thunder. Was that really what it meant to be human? Not how people define themselves by their beliefs, but rather, it's how there is Someone up there who loves them? That was the answer? Then... what was the entire point?
...Except that Someone did become human.
That's what rattled these things, these BEDs that were declaring a statement as if it were the fundamental law of their empire. They didn't want Love. Anything is preferable. Love wasn't. That was the entire crux of the problem. You can staple anything into love. But don't let it be Love itself. Was it something that simple? But that's the point that disturbed her.
...What kind of insanity do these things even spout out of their mouths? They want everything... except Love. What really is love? An emotion? A mental condition? A choice? A nature? Something so simple, Misaka never really likes to think too deeply. Like, what's the point of thinking about any of this? Like, isn't love just... you know, about caring for the people you're close to? Family, friends, and... no, she was not gonna count that idiot, no way. Isn't it just that?
But all of those always had something of a "But then what?" every single time you try to put a definition on it. It always presupposed something. Something that should be there, but there are no words to really describe it.
...And this was that battlefield. The one she's fighting right now.
"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)"
Her electricity flowed through her, as natural as the blood flowed through her veins, as she was once again seeing more than a hundred BEDs who prowled in animalistic, silent movements, with raised arms like they were the claws of a lion. Their dark eyes were narrowing at her cautiously, like lions, and through those same eyes, more of them were just lying in wait from the deepest oceanic abyss.
It was like they knew. They could sense the conflict within her, and to them, that was a bad thing. When people actually started to think outside their box, that was already unpredictable, and it could potentially sway in favor of the Sovereign Good. That was how this worked in reality.
"...Why think of love, you who could control the power of lightning from your own hand? It's a waste of the mind to dwell in such things," says one of the BEDs, who looked like a woman in her 20s.
Misaka gritted her teeth as she aimed her lightning at them. "I don't need questions coming out of you freaks?" She blasted them with casual ease, as all of the BEDs were thrown out of her way. No... she felt something darker. It was a simple evasion tactic. A psychological tactic.
...Damn it, these things were deliberately trying to mess with her. She thought in silent horror before resolving like steel. Shokuhou wasn't kidding; these things were dangerous. They'd use even her own feelings against her.
Misaka would quietly glance at Shokuhou, still looking upward, with one of her gloved hands tightening near her chest. Misaka called out. "Oi, Shokuhou."
Shokuhou glanced at her. Even though she was seeing Him again, her awareness was much clearer.
"You've got any ideas on how we should deal with these BEDs. They just keep coming?" Misaka was asking, not just for a practical solution, but to at least get some idea, any idea, on how to fight and apply whatever's necessary, because Misaka didn't like the way these BEDs were going, seemingly acting all reasonable, but it felt like there was always a catch.
"...I've said this before," Shokuhou muttered, looking at Misaka seriously. "There's no end to these monsters. Endless doesn't even begin to describe just how many there are in terms of populations. But, it's not just about the numbers, Misaka-san, it's a deliberate psychological tactic to make most people think of the numbers, but not the intent."
"Then what?" Misaka asked a little desperately, before she slashed another BED with her ironsand sword. "There's got to be something, anything, like I don't know, that Azazel bastard doing something in the city while we do this?"
"What makes you think he hasn't already before this even started, Misaka-san?" Shokuhou reminded grimly. "Remember, this thing has been observing rational lifeforms of every variant and evolution since forever; so whatever we think, he already knows exactly what it is via empirical observation proper to his mode of affairs. Our every action to him is frankly predictable."
"Tck," Misaka clicked her tongue in irritation and concern. "There has to be something, like a blind spot or I don't know, anything really, just to cut off the numbers of these freaks."
"You're still thinking this thing has limits like we do, Misaka-san," Shokuhou corrected grimly, her starry eyes were narrowing in caution. "This thing, Azazel, is a fallen pure intelligence, the First Cherub, who would know mysteries greater than all of our science combined. He doesn't have blind spots the same way we do. We can't outwit him with our own will because his intelligence is on a completely different level. Forget trying to outsmart that monster, the best thing right now is to survive and resist."
Misaka didn't like it. She didn't like the answer. This is madness. Then, she glanced at the Tokiwadai students around the corner, all frozen and watching. Wait... she noticed something. These BEDs aren't gunning for the other students of Tokiwadai. This isn't mindless destruction, it's something else.
"...Why is it we're the only ones being attacked?" Misaka asked grimly. "Why not the rest of Tokiwadai?"
"Because they don't know, Misaka-san, not like us," Shokuhou grimly stated. "Ignorance is bliss, as they say, but that had always been a lie. Ignorance is enslavement. We were all blind, so why would the Kingdom of the Inferno bother the ones who are already under its enslavement?"
Misaka clenched her teeth under her grimace. She didn't like what Shokuhou was implying.
"...The Kingdom of the Inferno, like any kingdom, has its subjects and its slaves. Of course, who would be the slaves? The ones who play a role, who are given a purpose to define their own narrative or someone else's narrative. All of this, and Ha-Satanas doesn't even need to lift a finger. We're just playing along, thinking we want peace, but ignorance isn't peace; it's a self-delusion of paradise, and you and I both know that Academy City isn't all sunshine and rainbows."
"But," Misaka objected a little while, slashing through more of the infernal daimoniacs. "What about this? The songs that we're hearing. Everyone's hearing it, aren't they?"
"Misaka-san, that's the thing, that's not enough," Shokuhou explained grimly. "Even if it's more than clear that the signs are happening, it's... and I never thought I would say this, it's the heart that matters in the end. Everyone in Tokiwadai still has a choice. They could try to look into it, or maybe pretend that this never happened. Either way, there is no escape from this; this will haunt them all to the very end. You and I both know how shallow humans, our humans, can be. This is but a first drop, not the whole package, because... Tenshu-sama's just that merciful," Shokuhou spoke with a broken smile.
Misaka gritted her teeth as she flicked her lightning to another batch of dark-eyed daimoniacs, which purified them into white smoke.
And then...
Misaka and Shokuhou both realized. Hold on, what about Junko Hokaze? They both thought. While she doesn't know as much as Misaka and Shokuhou, she'd... she'd still be a walking target for these BEDs, because... Asia Argento's with her.
Shokuhou didn't waste time and contacted Hokaze. After a few beeps, her call thankfully picked up.
"Queen?" Hokaze's voice echoed from the phone.
"Junko, is everything alright on your end?!" Shokuhou asked out of concern.
"Umm, actually, yes, my Queen, everything's fine. I'm at the clinic right now, keeping watch over Asia-san. There are also a few kind Anti-Skill personnel, who call themselves S.W.A.T., who are also guarding the clinic, so we're completely safe," Hokaze explained calmly from the phone, before looking at the window and seeing the chaos at Tokiwadai with a concerned frown.
"...Thank goodness," Shokuhou sighed in relief, looking at Misaka, muttering. "Junko's fine. I suppose the BEDs did not actually see any tactical value in targeting her." She held her phone back and talked to Hokaze. "Junko, listen, contact Kobayashi, tell her to tell the rest of the clique to assist in moving all of the students somewhere safer. Make contact as well with Gaouin-san," she said, recalling the Vice President of the Student Council. "Work with the student council to alleviate the situation."
"Alright, I understand, my Queen," Hokaze nodded grimly.
Shokuhou turned off her phone as she looked at Misaka. "In any case, Misaka-san, perhaps we should head to the rooftop and regroup with Shirai-san."
"Alright," Misaka sighs quietly, before walking towards Shokuhou. "Beats to having to stay in one place." She said, before quietly carrying Shokuhou, who on any other day, would complain about the sudden princess carry, but considering the circumstances, there were far more urgent concerns. "Hang on." Misaka muttered grimly before she propelled herself with the use of her lightning, which strengthened the joints of her legs, blasting off like a rocket and sticking to the walls.
Song Begins:
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...Somewhere in Academy City.
Amongst all of the people who stopped and watched the blips, screens, and devices that were broadcasting the event where Azariah's actions had caused such a ripple that made everyone look, regardless of who he or she is, there were three members of ITEM.
There was Shiage Hamazura, sporting an expression of shock, while holding a shaken Rikou Takitsubo, who had miraculously recovered from her overdose of her use of a specific drug that enhances her power. But ever since this started, Takitsubo suddenly no longer felt the poison, and she felt so much better, like she never actually had any problems.
"...What is...super happening?" says one Saiai Kinuhata, who muttered with a pale expression.
Hamazura couldn't answer. He couldn't. He watched and literally saw the impossible before him. Various men, from a corrupt dark side organization, S.W.A.T. as they call themselves, declared over and over, with tears in their eyes, as if they finally saw and were awake at last.
"For Paginoong Diyos who is Justice! Quis ut Deus?!" they keep saying, over and over, as they aggressively struck down the swarm of dark-eyed humanoids who were screeching coldly in defiance at such proximity of faith that burned like fire, raising their hands like claws to scratch, but the men fought ferociously even if some landed a scratch. They used any weapon they had: rifle, shield, baton, all of it, used and somehow were effective against these things that felt... not even dark, just outright evil.
"...Diyos," Hamazura tested the words, and... he felt his jaded heart crack. These people weren't even shouting about a kami, they were... they were proclaiming about Someone that no one had any actual words for.
And then, the song of the Woman respectfully quiets herself, as the sound of Her morning stars, of cherubim, sang in tears of liturgical defiance.
"Masdan mo, O Diyos ang lingkod mo.
Nanagbabalik loob sa iyo.
Bagamt di' marapat ay dumudulong sa 'yo.
Upang makamtan ang awa mo.
(Behold, O God, your servant.
He turns to you.
Although he is not worthy, he comes to you.
To obtain your mercy.)"
Everyone, including Hamazura and the two girls, felt their breath pitch, as they would see the sun quietly dimming its light, as if it were the afternoon, as if the sun acknowledged the presence of the Creator.
"For Paginoong Diyos who is Justice! Quis ut Deus?!" The gentle cherubic song aroused the feelings of the S.W.A.T. members who raised their fists and weapons, with tears in their eyes. Their movements were even more aggressive as they clashed and struck down the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs) who, no matter how many there are, they were getting crushed and purified, as countless smoke of pure white arose like incense that fly to Mercy after being denied of Him for too long.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Kinuhata couldn't help it, but she held on to Hamazura as if trying to anchor herself before something that... somehow made her felt like a normal child again after the dark side had stolen her innocence. Hamazura could barely even stand before the song, not because he was forced to kneel, but because his heavy load was crushed before this gentler song expressing who it actually was that was within the song.
He glanced and saw a couple of civilians already kneeling, in tears too ugly for words. Takitsubo, who he was carrying, was clenching his shirt, shaken and her eyes were threatening to cry. "...Ha...Hamazura..." she couldn't say anything more.
"Kaytagal kong nalayo sa 'yo.
At kayraming mga taong sinaktan ko.
At ang s'yang inisip ko ay kaginhawahan ko.
Pininid sa kapwa puso ko.
(I've been away from you for so long.
And I've hurt so many people.
And all I thought about was my comfort.
My heart was closed to others.)"
Hamazura gritted his teeth. It felt like judgment. But... it was too gentle to even call it that. It was only expressing what he and many other Level 0s around the city had all felt. Their dreams were crushed completely. Those who weren't 3s or 4s were at the bottom of the rung of society. No one ever cared for them. No one...
...So why now?
"...I'm...super scared now," Kinuhata muttered, trembling... and yet, her eyes couldn't help but shed tears that leaked through her cheeks.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
...For the very first time, it felt like...Hamazura didn't even feel like he needed to worry about surviving anymore.
"Kaya nga, O Diyos, kalugdan mo ang pagbabalik loob ko sa 'yo.
Diwa ko'y linisan mo.
Puso ko'y buksan mo.
Upang matugunan ang tawag mo.
(Therefore, O God, please accept my return to you.
Cleanse my spirit.
Open my heart.
To answer your call.)"
...Frenda Seivelun was holding her ears, not because they were hurting physically, but because... they were breaking her down. Stop it, that... this isn't... her thoughts were all jumbled up. Her eyes, against even her own feelings, were leaking in tears. No, why was she even crying? Why was she suddenly remembering all of the people she killed while being part of the dark side? Why was all this suddenly being offered back to her memory, and it hurts?
Her eyes were locked onto Azariah, who quietly stood tall, as he silently dodged every strike from the BEDs who coldly screeched for death against him, an adopted son of the Most High and of That Woman. How the hell is he this calm? Why is he not as affected as everybody else?
Even Kuroko Shirai, who held Azariah's Saint Benedict rosary, was heavily affected, and it took plenty of effort to concentrate, as she sees the impossible with her own eyes, people from the dark side shouting for "Panginoong Diyos." and proclaiming Him without hesitation as Justice.
For Frenda, this was... weird, even for these weirdos. And... even the sun was acting weird, dimming its light as if participating as well when the song was echoed by its Creator's cherubim.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
"...Stop it," Frenda finally broke down, her hands lifting out of her ears, speaking at last. But her tone was broken to pieces. She... didn't even know anything anymore. All of her sins were finally laid bare before her. She shouldn't even care. Why was she even caring? Why was it all coming back to her as if Someone was always there, grieving every single time she killed someone?
Misaka, carrying Shokuhou, was landing quietly, as Shokuhou placed her feet on the ground, yet she was trembling and shaking at the song as well. Even Misaka was... flinching at the song. It was making her recall even the sisters that she failed to save from Accelerator.
"...Mou, why..." Shokuhou muttered, trembling, as she hated crying all over again. "...Why is it always songs like this with You?"
And she looked upward, for she was the only one who saw Him, the Agonizing Crucified, who smiled forever, while His Cross was enthroned by the Cherubim who were taking the form of gentle yet firm clouds who kept singing.
"...That's...not fair..." Shokuhou muttered, in her tears.
"Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Whyyyyyyyyyyy?" Frenda was crying thoroughly, breaking down, as her thoughts were too broken to even try to rationalize. It felt meaningless. Everything was staring at her face.
...Why? Why was this song trying to save her? She... She didn't need... but she couldn't continue that thought.
Even the gentle winds were flowing across Academy City, for even the winds were praising their Creator, blowing through the rooftops.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Misaka couldn't help but feel a shiver; her arms were crossed as she looked at the dimmed sun. "...Just...who are you?" she trembled, as she never even felt anything this... majestic yet lowly.
...Touma Kamijou had no absolute idea what he was expecting when he was stepping back into Academy City and meeting Index again.
Speaking of Index, she was already kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth, her tears were dropping through her emerald eyes. Why? Because of what they, and everyone else, are seeing right now. Everyone around the world was watching the strangest thing. It was strange, and this was coming from Kamijou, who had seen plenty of strange in the magic side and science side.
"Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Kamijou gulped at the echoing gentle song of the hidden cherubim. His eyes bore witness to a battle, that didn't feel like a battle so much as salvation, as he sees countless daimoniacs with dark eyes getting smacked into white pure smoke that rose and joined in the song of the cherubim. He glanced at Index, who was still crying in tears.
"...Uhh, Index?" Kamijou tried, as much as he could, to talk to Index. The silver-haired nun slowly glanced at him. Kamijou flinched a little, trying to be delicate. "...Do...Do you know what this is?" he asked, hesitantly, even though he felt this was a stupid question.
Index shook her head immediately, crying in tears. "No... No... this isn't magic. I know magic, Touma, this isn't it. This isn't anything I could see from any forbidden book. I... It's... not anything anyone has ever seen before."
Kamijou hesitantly glanced back at the nearby screen that showed the battle. It had been lasting for a very long while. Probably... an hour, he thinks? He could even see on screen, Misaka, who was right there on the rooftop, who was right at the thick of it, just as affected as everybody else. Could Kamijou blame her? This was weird, even for Academy City.
But Kamijou couldn't help but feel uneasy on the inside as he heard the echoing shouts of these men who wore Anti-Skill uniforms, who proclaimed... "Panginoong Diyos.". It wasn't said in Japanese; it was said in another language.
Not Kami. Diyos. Not Deus. Diyos. Not God. Diyos.
Even the songs were proclaiming this "Diyos.". Kamijou was uneasy... because it was too gentle. It didn't even feel like wrath or anything Kamijou could understand. He doesn't know what hé's looking at.
He doesn't feel any kind of threat. That was the problem. He has no understanding for what he's seeing. There's no assessing. All he sees is Salvation happening in real time, and it wasn't breaking anything, it was setting whatever these things were, these dark-eyed beings, free, as they rose like white smoke towards somewhere Kamijou doesn't even know where.
Even the sun was acting weird. Even the winds were acting weird. And... were those twinkling stars in the middle of the day? He sees the twinkling stars blink in rapid succession across the blanket night skies that complement the afternoon tide.
If this wasn't magic... what was it? He didn't even think that science could explain this. How could one explain the literal sky acting like this?
And... how could one explain the fact that he was also slowly recalling his memories, from around the time when he sees Index when he had lost his memories up to now. For whatever reason, his memories were recontextualized. Someone is there. Someone he never knew. Someone who watched him, all of him, even the memories he no longer remembers.
That quietly frightened him more than any speech from a would-be villain or a magician with ends to justify the means.
"...Who...Who are you?" Kamijou asked, in quiet, reverent dread.
...It lasted for three hours. Three whole hours. And the whole world had stopped and watched, no matter where they were.
"Masdan mo, O Diyos ang lingkod mo.
Nanagbabalik loob sa iyo.
Bagamt di' marapat ay dumudulong sa 'yo.
Upang makamtan ang awa mo.
(Behold, O God, your servant.
He turns to you.
Although he is not worthy, he comes to you.
To obtain your mercy.)"
And eventually, the threat subsided, as the BEDs no longer came in endless numbers. The onslaught stopped. And yet, the song of the invisible cherubim was still heard everywhere. The sun still hadn't turned back to normal. The stars were still blinking. In fact, various birds flew across the skies in tighter formation, instinctively recognizing their Creator despite having no rational souls. These birds formed symbols in the sky, of the shape of a Sacred Heart and of a Chi-Rho, for all to see.
The battle was over. And all of the S.W.A.T. men threw their weapons down, because they were no longer needed, for these weapons that they once used for their own twisted justice were not worth it against the Justice who was the Victim-High Priest, True Prophet, and Sovereign King. There was now no shout of victory. Rather, many were kneeling in worship. Most were bowing their heads and letting their tears out before a gentler Justice.
Azariah? He was just kneeling in solemnity after the battle, making the Sign of the Cross, and quietly praying. Because he knew what this was. His Earth's history was full of miracles, especially Eucharistic ones. So he was not surprised like everyone else. He rather felt unworthy before such a miracle. Frenda, who was looking at Azariah, still had distraught tears in her eyes.
Shirai was looking with trembling lips at seeing the S.W.A.T. men just being in a posture of worship and reverent silence before the singing of invisible cherubim. She held Azariah's Saint Benedict rosary tighther. Was this... Was this truly what Justice is...?
"Kaytagal kong nalayo sa 'yo.
At kayraming mga taong sinaktan ko.
At ang s'yang inisip ko ay kaginhawahan ko.
Pininid sa kapwa puso ko.
(I've been away from you for so long.
And I've hurt so many people.
And all I thought about was my comfort.
My heart was closed to others.)"
Misaka quietly stood by Shirai, making sure her kouhai was alright. But truthfully, none of them were alright. She was still seeing the sun, the stars, and even the birds in the air, not acting as they normally would. The battle was over, but even the battle itself felt like a footnote.
Shokuhou continued to stare at the Agonizing Crucified with tears in her starry eyes. She was the only one on the rooftop who could truthfully see Him.
"...You asked, My little star, why I sent you back here?" The LORD's smile felt unbearable for her. "Why, My little star, My little daughter, did you think I would deprive you of seeing My miracles, as you are?"
Shokuhou felt her breath hitch, as her face grimaced into a deep frown and tears, bowing her head.
This? This is a miracle? No spectacle, but liberation for the lost? No grand proclamations, but fierce, wrathful mercy descending downward? No morality, but crossing even through broken systems just to touch the lowest?
What kind of miracle was that?
And yet...
Shokuhou couldn't bear it, looking at the Agonizing LORD who never wavered in His gentle smile, the same smile that made all worlds, including hers.
"Kaya nga, O Diyos, kalugdan mo ang pagbabalik loob ko sa 'yo.
Diwa ko'y linisan mo.
Puso ko'y buksan mo.
Upang matugunan ang tawag mo.
(Therefore, O God, please accept my return to you.
Cleanse my spirit.
Open my heart.
To answer your call.)"
"...Onee-sama," Shirai glanced at Misaka, trembling like a leaf.
"...Yeah, I know, Kuroko," Misaka muttered grimly, yet reverent and awed, as they both looked at the nightly skies, seeing the birds continually forming the Chi-Rho and the Sacred Heart.
...From this moment forward, things will never be the same for their world again. This was not the end. This was the first strike. More will follow.
"Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
Song End:
Chapter 13 - Azariah's Earth
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Song Begins:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyB99npmR8s
...And now, one must take a glance back into the Silent Planet where Azariah comes from.
There, in Washington, there was the stunned, quiet face of one President of the United States. His name was Howard Nicholson. Born and raised as a Lutheran, he studied law in his youth before eventually embarking on a political career as a Senator. Then he ran and won the election just last year, with a majority of votes given to him across every state.
Why the stunned face?
Because of what is currently happening around the planet. His eyes, along with the eyes of his fellow cabinet members, were looking at the television screen that was showing strange creatures who were appearing everywhere.
Just to give a few examples, on the ocean of the Pacific, there was a quiet yet majestic presence of a water spout, a tornado-shaped sentient being with eight bluish eyes that hummed across the waters. No, not just one, there were numerous, even spotted and identified by various U.S. Navy aircraft carriers.
Another were tall, titanic giants, made of stone, who were standing quietly in reverence, with eyes that glowed in ancient aether.
Another were flying armored humanoids with eightfold wings, with Spartan-like armor, gliding across the skies of every country, who were quietly singing a song.
"Masdan mo, O Diyos, ang lingkod mo.
Nanagbabalik loob sa iyo.
Bagamt di' marapat ay dumudulong sa 'yo.
Upang makamtan ang awa mo.
(Behold, O God, your servant.
He turns to you.
Although he is not worthy, he comes to you.
To obtain your mercy.)
Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
The strangest part was that the song was sung in Filipino, but it was understood by all. It was singing about... God. Whatever these creatures, and these other various creatures appearing throughout and encircling the planet were, they were acknowledging the Almighty Himself. This was... very unprecedented. For President Howard, the United States in its history have often talked about first contact with non-humans, and the Central Intelligence Agency (C.I.A.) even had an entire book of protocols devoted to that. Most nowadays never took it seriously...
...Until now.
"...Everyone," the president spoke carefully, looking at his cabinet of staff present. "...What are we looking at here?"
Nobody could give an answer. Most don't even know what to think of this.
General Nexton, the one with a scar on his face, which he got during his time of service as a soldier in the army, spoke quietly. "...Mr. President, if I were to be honest, the only things I could state would be so obvious that it would be ridiculous to repeat them."
The president quietly agreed. It was too obvious. These creatures were coming out, and at the same time, they were... acknowledging the Christian GOD. But what made him and the rest of the staff observe carefully? These creatures were spotted especially near churches that belonged to the Catholic Church. In every place, there is at least one of these species that were worshipping the Eucharist present in every tabernacle. These incidents are being covered live by various numbers of news broadcasts.
...And yet, it wasn't the usual sensationalism. Most news reporters were even afraid to give their own comments, and simply let the scenes play out on camera without much reporting.
"Kaytagal kong nalayo sa 'yo.
At kayraming mga taong sinaktan ko.
At ang s'yang inisip ko ay kaginhawahan ko.
Pininid sa kapwa puso ko.
(I've been away from you for so long.
And I've hurt so many people.
And all I thought about was my comfort.
My heart was closed to others.)
Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
The president himself was quietly... intimidated and challenged in ways he never thought he'd be dealing with. It wasn't in the political sphere; it was in the sphere of his own religion. He was a Lutheran, and yet, he was looking at creatures who acknowledged the very institution that Martin Luther had rebelled against, for understandable reasons. What did this actually mean? This wasn't something simple diplomacy could solve, nor could this be simply be dealt with for the sake of America's interests and national security.
None of that mattered... when the Almighty is being literally proclaimed to every nation through this strange choice of language that spoke of nothing except Mercy.
Where were the conspiracy theorists? Where were the doom sayers? Where were those who proclaim the end of the world?
They all fell silent. Because what the entire planet witnessed was not even the Last Judgment. This was... something nobody could ever have any words for.
"Kaya nga, O Diyos, kalugdan mo ang pagbabalik loob ko sa 'yo.
Diwa ko'y linisan mo.
Puso ko'y buksan mo.
Upang matugunan ang tawag mo.
(Therefore, O God, please accept my return to you.
Cleanse my spirit.
Open my heart.
To answer your call.)
Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
The president glanced and could even see the female among the staff, either covering their mouths or crying. No one could blame them for it. Scientists have theorized that mankind may not have been alone in the universe. Turns out, they were right... but not even those scientists would have expected this.
"...I don't understand," says one Vice President of the United States, Lance Richardson, an African American whose religion was that of a Baptist, who looked at everything and... felt confused, and yet, awed. "Why the Roman Catholic Church? Why are all of these creatures drawn to that Church?"
Where were those who were saying this was the Church that would lead the apostasy? No one was speaking out, not now. It felt... too stupid. These creatures were not even attacking or planning anything nefarious. They were... worshipping the Almighty, in a language of a third-world country within Asia. Was this what apostasy looked like? It felt too nonsensical. This is anything but apostasy. This was... too beautiful.
"...Maybe, Mr. President, we should try to contact the Vatican?" says the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Edward Furlong, with his perfect jaw and glasses. "Like, if these creatures are gathering in Catholic Churches, then... maybe they'd know something about it."
The president leaned on his armchair. At this point, this wasn't a bad idea. Especially when... well, there have also been news reports of literal walking imperial troopers that resembled the clone troopers from Star Wars of all things, but they had these Christian markings on their banners, on their armor, and on everything else, who were especially spotted in the Vatican's streets. Perhaps they did know. And if they did, then how in all of the heavens did they know when the rest of the planet never even knew at all?
Song Ends:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyB99npmR8s
...And now, one must take a glance back into the Silent Planet where Azariah comes from.
There, in Washington, there was the stunned, quiet face of one President of the United States. His name was Howard Nicholson. Born and raised as a Lutheran, he studied law in his youth before eventually embarking on a political career as a Senator. Then he ran and won the election just last year, with a majority of votes given to him across every state.
Why the stunned face?
Because of what is currently happening around the planet. His eyes, along with the eyes of his fellow cabinet members, were looking at the television screen that was showing strange creatures who were appearing everywhere.
Just to give a few examples, on the ocean of the Pacific, there was a quiet yet majestic presence of a water spout, a tornado-shaped sentient being with eight bluish eyes that hummed across the waters. No, not just one, there were numerous, even spotted and identified by various U.S. Navy aircraft carriers.
Another were tall, titanic giants, made of stone, who were standing quietly in reverence, with eyes that glowed in ancient aether.
Another were flying armored humanoids with eightfold wings, with Spartan-like armor, gliding across the skies of every country, who were quietly singing a song.
"Masdan mo, O Diyos, ang lingkod mo.
Nanagbabalik loob sa iyo.
Bagamt di' marapat ay dumudulong sa 'yo.
Upang makamtan ang awa mo.
(Behold, O God, your servant.
He turns to you.
Although he is not worthy, he comes to you.
To obtain your mercy.)
Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
The strangest part was that the song was sung in Filipino, but it was understood by all. It was singing about... God. Whatever these creatures, and these other various creatures appearing throughout and encircling the planet were, they were acknowledging the Almighty Himself. This was... very unprecedented. For President Howard, the United States in its history have often talked about first contact with non-humans, and the Central Intelligence Agency (C.I.A.) even had an entire book of protocols devoted to that. Most nowadays never took it seriously...
...Until now.
"...Everyone," the president spoke carefully, looking at his cabinet of staff present. "...What are we looking at here?"
Nobody could give an answer. Most don't even know what to think of this.
General Nexton, the one with a scar on his face, which he got during his time of service as a soldier in the army, spoke quietly. "...Mr. President, if I were to be honest, the only things I could state would be so obvious that it would be ridiculous to repeat them."
The president quietly agreed. It was too obvious. These creatures were coming out, and at the same time, they were... acknowledging the Christian GOD. But what made him and the rest of the staff observe carefully? These creatures were spotted especially near churches that belonged to the Catholic Church. In every place, there is at least one of these species that were worshipping the Eucharist present in every tabernacle. These incidents are being covered live by various numbers of news broadcasts.
...And yet, it wasn't the usual sensationalism. Most news reporters were even afraid to give their own comments, and simply let the scenes play out on camera without much reporting.
"Kaytagal kong nalayo sa 'yo.
At kayraming mga taong sinaktan ko.
At ang s'yang inisip ko ay kaginhawahan ko.
Pininid sa kapwa puso ko.
(I've been away from you for so long.
And I've hurt so many people.
And all I thought about was my comfort.
My heart was closed to others.)
Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
The president himself was quietly... intimidated and challenged in ways he never thought he'd be dealing with. It wasn't in the political sphere; it was in the sphere of his own religion. He was a Lutheran, and yet, he was looking at creatures who acknowledged the very institution that Martin Luther had rebelled against, for understandable reasons. What did this actually mean? This wasn't something simple diplomacy could solve, nor could this be simply be dealt with for the sake of America's interests and national security.
None of that mattered... when the Almighty is being literally proclaimed to every nation through this strange choice of language that spoke of nothing except Mercy.
Where were the conspiracy theorists? Where were the doom sayers? Where were those who proclaim the end of the world?
They all fell silent. Because what the entire planet witnessed was not even the Last Judgment. This was... something nobody could ever have any words for.
"Kaya nga, O Diyos, kalugdan mo ang pagbabalik loob ko sa 'yo.
Diwa ko'y linisan mo.
Puso ko'y buksan mo.
Upang matugunan ang tawag mo.
(Therefore, O God, please accept my return to you.
Cleanse my spirit.
Open my heart.
To answer your call.)
Ang diwa ko'y naninimdim kung malayo sa 'yo.
Ang puso ko'y namimighati kung mawalay sa 'yo.
Kailan ko pa kaya matitikman ang awa mo.
Kailan tatamuhin ang patawad mo.
(My soul grieves when I am far from you.
My heart grieves when I am separated from you.
When will I ever taste your mercy?
When will I ever receive your forgiveness?)"
The president glanced and could even see the female among the staff, either covering their mouths or crying. No one could blame them for it. Scientists have theorized that mankind may not have been alone in the universe. Turns out, they were right... but not even those scientists would have expected this.
"...I don't understand," says one Vice President of the United States, Lance Richardson, an African American whose religion was that of a Baptist, who looked at everything and... felt confused, and yet, awed. "Why the Roman Catholic Church? Why are all of these creatures drawn to that Church?"
Where were those who were saying this was the Church that would lead the apostasy? No one was speaking out, not now. It felt... too stupid. These creatures were not even attacking or planning anything nefarious. They were... worshipping the Almighty, in a language of a third-world country within Asia. Was this what apostasy looked like? It felt too nonsensical. This is anything but apostasy. This was... too beautiful.
"...Maybe, Mr. President, we should try to contact the Vatican?" says the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Edward Furlong, with his perfect jaw and glasses. "Like, if these creatures are gathering in Catholic Churches, then... maybe they'd know something about it."
The president leaned on his armchair. At this point, this wasn't a bad idea. Especially when... well, there have also been news reports of literal walking imperial troopers that resembled the clone troopers from Star Wars of all things, but they had these Christian markings on their banners, on their armor, and on everything else, who were especially spotted in the Vatican's streets. Perhaps they did know. And if they did, then how in all of the heavens did they know when the rest of the planet never even knew at all?
Song Ends:
Chapter 14 (1) - Loop 2 - A Certain Magical Index
New
Multiverse Learner 101
Making the rounds.
- Joined
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- Messages
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- 193
Song Begins: A Certain Scientific Accelerator - Opening Full『Shadow is the Light』by THE SIXTH LIE
Location: Earth (A Certain Magical Index)
It was rather quiet now in Tokiwadai.
Except for the sirens that now echoed all across the street corners. Judgment Vehicles essentially.
All of the members of S.W.A.T. who took part in fending off the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs) were keeping their word and literally turning themselves in to Judgment. To Judgment alone, basically, because they generally informed the organization of this darker truth.
"Anti-Skill has been compromised for years now."
That set off alarm bells from the more senior members of Judgment. How long was such a corruption even enacted? More to the point, how was it possible for such a thing to slip by unnoticed? All of the S.W.A.T. officers genuinely did not know why. All of them had been recruited here and there from an unknown contact. They never saw a face, just a voice call, and that's it, orders relayed, and they even get paid for it.
An anonymous contact. No record. No trace. That couldn't be good. That was the thought of one Kuroko Shirai who had been thinking about what these men were testifying. If Anti-Skill was compromised, then what of Judgment? Such a thought became outright discomforting to Shirai. If it were not for the incident with the BEDs, none of this would have been dragged back out into the light.
But that was the problem. Was this even light vs darkness? Or was that even a smokescreen for something that none of them were ever trained to combat?
Shirai was just glancing at another armored truck pulling out when she heard her fellow Judgment Officer, Komaki Makigami, call out to her. "Shirai-san!"
She glanced quietly towards the brown-haired twintailed Judgment Officer and fellow student of Tokiwadai. "Konori-senpai and Aomi-senpai are asking for you right now!"
"...Ah, I see," Shirai muttered grimly, looking in the direction where the armored truck pulled off to.
"...Shirai-san?" Makigami muttered, concerned as she noticed the silence going off for a little while. "Are you alright?"
Shirai glanced at her. Was she alright? Her eyes were lowered, forming a grim, contemplative frown. "...I think the better question is, is everyone in Judgment alright, Makigami?"
"Eh?" Makigami blinked a little. "What do you mean?"
Shirai spoke further, grimly. "You heard the song, didn't you?"
Makigami flinched a little.
"...Everyone heard the song. Everyone in the entire world saw what had happened here. Everyone heard the confessions of all of those S.W.A.T. personnel about a dark side lurking within our city, on live television, while fighting whatever these dark-eyed monsters are that can't be explained by science, so tell me, Makigami, are we really alright? Because if this corruption had been under our nose this whole time, who's to say that we aren't compromised either?" Shirai asked, plainly being realistic about the situation, to her bitter regret.
"...I," Makigami hesitated. She... didn't like to think about it.
Shirai glanced back in the direction from which the armored vehicle had last left. No, Shirai refused to let this be. If what they said was true, and she no longer had any reason to doubt, then she needed to take action. Judgment as a whole needed to take action. Because if they don't, then their entire city's next generation would suffer unnecessarily what they've unknowingly suffered for so long. Corruption, hidden under a squeaky badge.
"...I wore this with pride, because I wanted to be a civil servant, to protect the innocent and defend the people," Shirai muttered, placing her hand to her green-white armband. "Now, I have just found out that one of our own security forces has been corrupt from the inside out, and I want to do everything I can to address it. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to hunt these people who call themselves the dark side, and I'm going to drag them back into the light if I have to."
...And it was not just because of her righteousness burning. She heard Justice's song. That Justice who is Panginoong Diyos. If He is Justice, and Justice is using this to flush the dark side out, then she will not let this slide. She will find them, and she will arrest them all and make them stand trial.
...Somewhere, there was Frenda Seivelun. Her mind, no longer capable of coping with anything she had ever done. All of her sins lay bare, not from her point of view but from the eyes of Someone else. Now? She was quietly limping. Not literally, her legs were still alright. It's... something else. She never left Azariah's side ever since this entire incident had started.
Azariah was just nearby, not bothered by her presence, sitting down on a nearby bench and quietly praying the rosary with his Saint Benedict Rosary. After all of that, Frenda thought as her heart grew disturbed. After all of that, he is still acting like nothing world-shaking had just happened.
Frenda couldn't take it, clenching her fists. "...How, the, hell, are you this calm?"
Azariah glanced at Frenda. He was already in the 3rd Luminous Mystery, which spoke of the Kingdom of GOD. He spoke humbly. "...It's not that I'm calm. It's just that I know who did this, and I trust Him, that's all."
"Trust who? That... That... Diyos of yours?" Frenda hesitated to say the Name. Before, she would have just laughed at it. Now, saying His Name felt like a heavier sentence.
"I do," Azariah never hesitated. He looked at her in the eye, being more than willing to be honest with her. "Where I come from, even though it's not perfect, the Diyos who is Love that I worshipped reigns, no matter how much evil had thrown itself from where I come from, it never lasted forever. Here, in your city, and the rest of your world... I don't think you ever actually knew who He is. Your city says what you are, cleaner on the outside, but inside is filled with dead men's bones."
"...H...Hah, so what? Are you gonna say that I'm some sinner that needs repentance? Is that it?!" Frenda turned aggressive, glaring at him.
"...No," Azariah swiftly said, making Frenda blink. "...The LORD had already said what needed to be said. Everyone around the world heard His song, so why should I repeat a much lesser and unnecessary statement than what He had already implanted as a seed?"
Frenda tried to talk, but couldn't argue, clenching her fists. "...I don't get it. You said you were normal, but you were anything but normal, not after what you did to those... whatever the hell those things were."
"And I didn't lie about that," Azariah explained. "I've got no superpowers. I'm no esper or something with powers. I am a nobody, whose weakness was used to set those things, the BEDs, free. I was baptized and confirmed by my Diyos through His Church; that was all. None of it can be credited to me. All I did was stand against evil as it is, with no pretense."
Frenda flinched. The way he said it, he wasn't joking, he wasn't lying, he genuinely believed it.
"...And I know that you are a Level 0 as well," Azariah explained humbly.
Frenda's breath hitched, twitching.
"So, if this is about powers, then it doesn't explain anything and explains nothing. I have no powers, I'm just a person who is far from home, who is permitted by Providence to bear witness to His Name, even when I feel inadequate. I'm not a perfect person. I have flaws. I have sins. And I accuse myself of it every day, to remind myself, I am no better than my fellow man," Azariah explained, as he looked at Frenda intently. "So, if you are going to expect me to judge you, then I will refuse your conception of me. I am no judge; I am simply the one who walks the Way and never lets evil have the last word. As for you, that's between you... and the LORD that loved you. I have no place in it, except to accept you as you are."
Frenda's fists clenched even more, muttering. "...I...I don't get you at all. You won't judge me, but you'd accept me. Do you... Do you know how gullibly stupid that is?"
"Stupidity is in our name," Azariah smiled sadly. "I am, as the BEDs say, a Kakure Kirishitan. So, of course, I'm stupid, in walking a path that most would not want to tread, so that I can save souls with Him."
He looked back to the rosary and prayed once more in silence, while Frenda trembled on her lips.
...Just who are you, Azariah? Frenda thought, in irritation and a pang in her heart.
And, after a while, as Frenda kept staring at him, by the time Azariah was at the 1st Sorrowful Mystery, which was the Agony in the Garden, they heard footsteps and a call.
"Azariah-san."
Someone called him. Azariah and Frenda looked. Azariah looked and recognized two of the beautiful women who were right in front of him, because he had seen A Certain Scientific Railgun first. One was Mii Konori, who called him, and the other was Aomi Yanagisako, who smiled with quiet interest, yet carried unease after what just happened here and across the world. Both of them were beautiful, more than the anime or source material could ever portray them.
"Do you mind if we have a bit of your time?" Konori asked softly, putting her hand to her glasses.
"No, I do not mind," Azariah shook his head. "How may I assist you, ma'am?"
"Well..." Konori muttered grimly.
There, in the Judgment 003's office within Tokiwadai, was where Azariah and Frenda were currently.
Shirai was already there, taking down any notes she could write from her notepad, as Konori and Yanagisako were the ones asking questions to Azariah, who was seated on a chair.
Just like what he did with Rias and Sona, he did the same here. He explained himself, revealing that his real name is not Azariah but a necessary alias to keep the people related to them protected. He told them about who he was. A university student attending a university run by Dominicans. He told them about his world, his planet, and the total created order that he came from.
Eucharistic miracles. Marian apparitions. Miracles. Everything. He never intended to preach; he was simply explaining about his own home. Everyone in the room ran quiet with every tale, especially Frenda, who looked at Azariah like her world was shattering over and over like layers of bricks. What sealed the deal, of course, was Misaki Shokuhou, who was present as she vouched for Azariah and offered further clarification.
The facts were undeniable to Judgment's seniors. Azariah was from another Earth, from somewhere that is more than just a physical universe, a total created order, one of many, where Love reigned as King and whose throne was a wooden Cross.
Then, same with Rias and with Sona, Azariah explained about the BEDs.
"The Black-Eyed Daimoniacs. BEDs as a modern acronym. They got that acronym because of their eyes, which are less black and more like portals to somewhere so exteriorly dark that it's... indescribable, to put it mildly," says Azariah.
Leaning on the wall, listening, was Mikoto Misaka, who twitched with every word. She heard this before from Shokuhou, but hearing this information again from someone else really made her hurl. What kind of sick monster would enslave entire populations as cannon fodder? Ha-Satanas himself apparently. Right near her, there were Junko Hokaze and Satori Kobayashi, who were both present, both of whom turned paler and shocked in horror as they slowly absorbed the information that Azariah was speaking of.
The BEDs are a diverse sets of categories, of multi-origin, of multi-faceted, middle hidden natures commonly identified by Azariah's world's ancient writers and patristic fathers as daimons. Not demons. Daimons. Rebel and fallen intelligences, enslaved against their own will, under a tyrannical regime long before primordial was a word that existed, ruled by an Unkillable Evil One who cannot die.
Everyone paid close attention to Azariah's testimony.
The BEDs were one of the most ancient enemies of the entirety of the human race, which began even during the time of Saint Adam, and had been one of those mostrous races that Cain himself had to survive with tooth, nail, and grit as he wandered the earth, and had been around during the time of Noah, swarming every layer of every Earth like spirits of the air, awaiting the command of their Dark Lord, Lucifer Helel ben Shachar, Ha-Satanas. Quite persistent, tenaciously deadly in variety, usually operating through the ordinary activities of temptation that allow conflicts to emerge across entire civilizations, and in many cases, were responsible for their downfall. As far as Azariah's own Earth goes, it had dealt with them across the centuries, such as the Crusades, the Hundred Years' War, the Black Death, and such. They were there, in the darkest hours of humanity.
And, as of their recent activity, World War II, his world's version of it, and revealed the same things he said to Rias and Sona.
"My World War II was a lot longer than yours. It began around 1930 when Adolf Hitler rose to power and became Chancellor."
Everyone felt the cold of the atmosphere as Azariah's explanation turned into a darker footnote.
"Hitler had set off what's called the Great Depression, using his spies to set off the Wall Street Crash of 1929. Then, around 1930, he orchestrated the Night of the Long Knives, which purged the entire government of Germany within one night. Just one night, Germany fell, its citizens ignorant, its government leaders dead, and their deaths were blamed on the Jews, and Hitler became Chancellor.
Once the enemies of his party were gone, Hitler set off to take control, first targeting Austria, and then of other neighboring weaker countries. They were powerless before the advanced technological machinery of the Nazi regime. Of what was unheard of, the Nazis had developed their weapons through what was called dasma, basically, energy weapons with no need to reload. How did he get all of this? History says that the Nazis were just that advanced due to their brilliant scientists. Actually, the Nazis had help, and this was long before the late 20s, back when they were still the Thule Society before Hitler reorganized them.
Hitler, through his occult connections with darker worlds, had allies, and through them, was taught darker sciences, and used them against his fellow man. History sees it as advanced science, and it is true, but it's a twisted science, misused for tyranny. But of course, what does that have to do with the BEDs? Simple. The BEDs were the Nazis' own shocktroopers."
Everyone widened their eyes, except for Shokuhou, who grimaced quietly.
"...Around 1938, the battlefield had changed completely. The BEDs were everywhere, acting as the hidden regiments, tearing down anyone who opposed them. No one survived their onslaught. History thinks of it as Nazi cruelty. In part, that's true. But they missed the other half. The Nazis were no mere tyranny, they were trying to build a millenarian empire, a Reich that would last not merely one thousand years, but forever. That was how ambitious my world's Hitler was.
The war lasted from 1930 to 1960. By 1960, Hitler and his allies fought to the bitter end with the last of his troops in what was called the Battle of Austria, which is where Hitler and those loyal to him took their stand against the Allies, and the Knights of the Holy Order who assisted them, under the blessing of then current pontiff of the Catholic Church, Pope John XIII. Then, finally, in the capital of Vienna, Adolf Hitler, the one who murdered countless Jews and Christians, the one who enslaved the good people of Germany, died at last, for he refused to surrender even in the face of death.
...Unlike what you may have thought of your world's Hitler, my world's Hitler was an Anti-Christ, one of the worst. And as for the BEDs? No longer seen since then. Their permission under Divine Providence was up. With Hitler gone, mankind was free from every evil influence, which included the BEDs. All documentary footage of the BEDs had been confiscated completely by the Allies, in fear of a global panic ensuing when the war had just recently been declared over after so long.
But the Church did not want to be silent. Thus, the Church opened its doors to the world, through what is called the Second Vatican Council, whose primary concern was for the healing of the world and its pastoral care. The Soviet Union by this time had already collapsed, for Hitler had crippled them so badly, killed their leader, Joseph Stalin, early in the war, that the Russian government had to adopt a new kind of government, a federal one. Thus, communism died along with Nazism. That didn't mean everything was peaceful, hence why the Second Vatican Council had to be convened, to ensure that the people could have hope again, in a world that had been lying in ruins.
That... is the World War II that my world has been through." Azariah explained lastly.
No one dared to talk. Everyone froze in horror at the scale. 1930 to 1960? That long? How...? But... how...?
"...How the hell did your world even survive that?" Misaka sported a disturbed look. She couldn't imagine it. A World War II that lasted that long? Thirty years of it? Misaka was not an idiot. She, like everyone else in Tokiwadai, had studied their Earth's World War II. It was a bad of course, but... the way Azariah explained his World War II was like... comparing a simple spark of electricity to a literal cyclone that lasted for thirty years.
Azariah explained softly. "The Church. When the Allies saw the devastating losses inflicted on them by the BEDs, only then did the secular and modern leaders turn to the Pope for help, just like before with the Crusades. My Earth has seen catastrophes that most people of my generation have completely forgotten, either because they don't know which is the majority, or maybe they did, but they never wanted to talk about it for fear of being ostracized or labelled as insane. Because how exactly can one explain what really happened in World War II to anybody who genuinely thinks we are alone in the universe? Because that's what my generation was. We completely forgot the sacrifices our grandparents and ancestors made, and that I feel is a pyrrhic victory for the BEDs, even. They never appeared again after the War, but the damage had been done. They just reversed the trauma in a different direction."
"...Then, what about Japan?" Kobayashi would ask, in quiet dread. Some part of her didn't want to know, but another part of her couldn't help but be curious.
Azariah was solemnly quiet. For one. For two. For three. With every second that passed, everyone now quietly got the same message. Something happened during his World War II that affected his world's Japan. Misaka immediately glanced at Shokuhou because she knew that Shokuhou was the only one in this room with actual context on Azariah. Shokuhou looked quiet and silent. Misaka didn't like where this was going.
"...The Imperial Japanese Army," Azariah spoke carefully, before explaining. "On the surface, it's still human cruelty, with Imperial Japan somehow successfully conquering the entirety of Asia, with only Australia barely holding the line. But, if you got the actual footage, if you've heard the exact unsuppressed stories from every Asian nation that was under Imperial Japan, you're going to have to realize that there were monstrous creatures that lurked in the dark, and I'm not merely talking about the BEDs. Other daimonic rebellious horrors lurked in the shadows of every conquered nation in Asia. The most common of them was the Hitokuijinshu."
Everyone turns quietly pale.
"...Hitokuijinshu?" Hokaze slowly muttered. "You mean, like they eat people?"
"In a nutshell, yes," Azariah explained grimly. "That's the kind of daimonic species that ran amok across Asia. Very tall, dark fur, three eyes, three horns, sharp-edged teeth, six large arms, one tail. That's one of the reasons why the Allies had a very hard time retaking the countries that Japan had occupied. It wasn't just the IJA you had to worry about, it's... well, the daimonic wildlife that embedded and took advantage of the conquest. Though interestingly, among the countries, only the Philippines was quite stubbornly resistant to the Hitokuijinshu even when it was conquered."
"How so?" Shirai had been noting everything down ever since Azariah had been explaining, and was paying close attention. Their world had already seen the BEDs in action right in the middle of Tokiwadai, so she would need to take into account other potential threats that could be scurrying about.
"The Philippines, being the only Catholic nation in Asia, was basically a beacon. The faith is stronger there, and its vast majority of people clung to the Most High and to the Blessed Mother at the height of spiritual darkness when most countries in Asia became complete cannibalistic wildernesses, most of whom only wielded nothing but rosaries and scapulars, as well as the Sacraments and other sacramentals, while some fought on the front lines as resistance fighters. It was also the first nation to be liberated by the Allies precisely because that country had never been an easy conquest for the rebel daimonic species. The battle was brutal, but the Hitokuijinshu never even had a foothold there." Azariah explained.
"Well... that's just great. More of these damned monsters to worry about," Misaka sighed heavily with a contemplative frown on her face.
Azariah had quietly requested a couple of papers from Konori so that he could list down the general things one needed to know about the rebel and fallen daimon species. There were far too many to catalogue, so it would be impossible to include all of the info, thus, he quietly wrote down the general gist of what they were on the papers for Judgment to use with discretion.
"...Azariah-san," Konori spoke carefully, concerned. "Are we... going to have to worry about these daimonic races from now on?"
"I would say yes, Konori-san," Azariah nodded grimly. "If you want my opinion on the matter, which you are free to modify or reject to your discretion, you're going to have to start mandating all of your Judgment officers to apply military training."
Everyone looked at him, troubled by such a proposal, though it was not like he was wrong. The BEDs were not something anyone had ever expected at all. One could argue that the only reason they even appear at all is because of Azariah's presence. While that part is true, that still does not guarantee that the BEDs, or the other rebel daemonic species under Lucifer Helel ben Shachar, would ever not come back.
Not to mention...
"Actually, I would agree with Azariah-san's proposal," says one serious Kuroko Shirai.
It made everyone look at her in surprise.
"Shirai-san?" Konori asked, concerned.
"Konori-senpai, the rebel daimons are one factor to consider, but we should not forget the fact that this incident has revealed one single detail. Our entire law enforcement divisions were completely compromised, starting with Anti-Skill." Shirai pointed out.
The entire room turned sober and grim. Of course, everyone knew what Shirai was talking about. Already, these men who turned themselves in, all belonging to the secret paramilitary organization S.W.A.T., had been confessing, with every testimony confirming the darker truth. Anti-Skill had been compromised; thus, it could no longer be trusted. However, news reports both inside and outside Academy City were already discussing the possibility of corruption in other departments, one of which is Judgment.
"Based on this information, not even our own juniors are safe within our organization. We would need to keep an eye on all of our members, all of them, check every record, check every schedule, check every hobby. We would need to investigate everyone thoroughly and be held accountable, that includes me, because for all I knew, I was used by someone corrupt to accomplish an objective," Shirai explained grimly.
"Kuroko..." Misaka muttered, concerned.
"...Shirai-san does have a point, Mii-chan," Yanagisako spoke grimly, putting her hand to her waist. "In a twisted way, without the BEDs showing up, we wouldn't even know that there was an entire corrupt group within Anti-Skill. S.W.A.T. is one of them, but what about potentially other units we do not know about? Arrested S.W.A.T. members had confessed that there were other units out there, even though they never knew most of the details. How far does this corruption really go?"
Konori had her arms crossed, grimacing quietly in thought.
"Might I suggest something?" Azariah raised his hand a little, making everyone look at him. "Amongst Anti-Skill personnel, I'd probably recommend Aiho Yomikawa, she's one of the clean ones in Anti-Skill, from what I know at least."
"Yomikawa-sensei..." Shirai recalled the dark blue ponytail-haired woman who often wore a green tracksuit when she wasn't on duty.
"But how exactly are you sure of that, Azariah-san?" Yanagisako asked, genuinely curious.
Before Azariah could explain and clarify terms, Shokuhou beat him to the punch and spoke to them all. "Because in Azariah's world, Yanagisako-san, our world is... strangely recorded in his world, on the label of a "light novel" if you could believe it."
Everyone blinked a little. "Hai?"
"Allow me to explain the... strange phenomenon of my world," Azariah gently yet humbly suggested. "On my Earth, humanity has the capability of recording events, even though imperfect, of your world and other worlds and labeling them under the term "fiction". So, yes, a light novel, for instance, is how our world knew yours. But again, "fiction" is not exactly accurate at this point. For one, you are all real rational beings with free will and intelligence, so trying to say you do not exist where I come from is like saying historical persons did not exist even when recorded to be so. For two, there's a term that a late Catholic Christian author named J.R.R. Tolkien used, which I'd prefer to use. Sub-creation."
"...Sub-creation?" Hokaze asked, curious yet mindboggled at what Azariah was describing. Because the way he explained it, it seemed like he was saying his world knew literally everything about them, through a fictional medium.
"It's essentially an act of participation on the part of creatures in the work of the Creator. Writing stories is one such trait, but that is not the only thing contained within the term. Everything humans do is an act of sub-creation, such as building infrastructure, planting trees and other plantlife, feeding animals, organizing materials, and more. Whatever the case, whether the authors may know it or not, the Creator is simply giving them a kind of slice as it were, allowing them to participate in shaping worlds, in varying degrees. So, in reality, there was always One Creator of All Worlds, the GOD I worshipped, and the various authors are instruments of His will, whether active or permissive. In this sense, fiction as a term that says it deals with make-believe... never really existed. Fiction is modern myth, and like any myth, it expresses truths that are obscured, but nevertheless, still there. Somewhere. Somewhen. Thus, your world, no matter how dark it is, is still created good originally. This, I believe with conviction," Azariah explained humbly.
Everyone was silent and quietly absorbed Azariah's words.
"...So that's how you knew me then," Frenda... didn't know how to even feel about this, with arms crossed, yet her eyes were subdued when looking at Azariah, the man who saved her from Mugino. "I'm basically exposed to probably a million people back in your world. Like... honestly, I kinda feel creeped out about that."
"I'd understand that perspective," Azariah nodded grimly. "Not everyone has good intentions, and thus, because most would think you do not exist, some may undoubtedly objectify you and everyone else in this room. I, for one, had refused to do so even when learning about you all." He looked meaningfully at Shirai, who noticed. "Like, I would humbly admit to being a fan of Shirai Kuroko essentially."
"Eh?" Shirai blinked a bit, surprised. Frenda twitched and her heart clenched. Something about that declaration, she felt, she didn't like personally, but she didn't know why. Everyone else couldn't help but pay attention, each with their own intrigued and amused expressions.
"When I was young, back when I was fourteen years old, when I was watching the shows that are based on your world, you happened to inspire me on the virtue of justice. It made me reflect daily on what I should do, how I can be just in a world that craves for justice? I always thought of that every day, so, I would have to thank you, Shirai-san, truly," he bowed his head a little, humbly.
Shirai took a step back, feeling her heart clench a little. She didn't... expect this. Her? A role model for this person? The same person who had pretty much made the international news headlines by fighting against the BEDs and was involved at the center of an unexplainable miracle, where the sun dimmed into an afternoon, where the twinkling stars of the night skies blinked in rapid succession, when the winds blew gently as the leaves waved in worship, when the birds of the air formed the symbols of Chi-Rho and of the Most Sacred Heart?
Of all people, she was the one who inspired him?
Misaka, who had been quietly watching, couldn't help but draw a quiet smile. So, even this Azariah person was inspired by her kouhai? She had to admit that was interesting and... strangely comforting.
"Wow, Shirai-san," says Shokuhou, who smirked quietly in amusement, putting her hands on the twintail's shoulder. "It must be nice to know that you are probably responsible for whatever this young man did."
"Wha? But, I..." Shirai looked quietly embarrassed and blushing a little. No wait, why was she blushing?! Her feelings are only for Onee-sama...
...But Shirai felt her heart stop. No, none of this. Not now. This would be insulting to Azariah, who was completely honest to a fault, genuinely respectful of her. She could see it in his eyes. She inspired him. He didn't lie about that. Azariah deserved better, especially considering the service he provided for the city despite being an outsider. Not to mention... it felt like seeing a reward in advance. She had always wanted to be a model servant for the people, and now, seeing Azariah honestly stating she inspired him.. it made her a little happier.
Shirai coughed her mouth a little, before smiling a little. "I see... then, I'm happy at least I've set a proper example for you to follow."
Azariah simply nodded, humbly.
And then, Azariah would slowly notice. Everyone noticed. His body is slowly flickering. It made everyone worry.
"What's happening?" Shirai asked in worry.
"...My time here seems to be up," Azariah spoke grimly. "This has happened before, back in the last world I ended up in, and Asia got dragged along with me." He said, glancing at Asia, who also noticed she was slowly fading, raising both of her hands with a quiet resignation.
"What the hell?!" says a shocked Frenda, as she notices her body slowly fading as well. "Why the hell is my body phasing away?!"
Azariah's earlier fears when he got here had been realized. It wasn't just him. The first person he meets in any world gets dragged along with him. First, Asia, now Frenda. He wondered who would be next.
"Don't worry, everyone," says Shokuhou softly, as everyone looked at her. She had that knowing, solemn expression. "This wouldn't be the last time we'd see Azariah-san and the others again."
"Oi, you know something, Shokuhou?" Misaka asked, concerned.
"Something that Tenshu-sama told me," Shokuhou spoke reverently, making even Azariah pay attention.
Tenshu-sama. The Judeo-Christian GOD. Panginoong Diyos.
Like Asia, Shokuhou had seen him when she tried to peek into his mind. Azariah didn't know what she actually saw; he never asked what had happened out of personal respect for Shokuhou.
"Azariah-san is apparently in a specific cycle of sorts, looping through twelve specific worlds―twelve total created narrative orders, which includes our world and the last world that Azariah had been through, which is Asia-san's world. Originally, Azariah-san's time in all of the twelve worlds was supposed to last up to ten hours each, as this was set by a being of sorts, a so-called random omnipotent being (ROB) who never actually realized what she, yes she, in this case did when she put Azariah-san into this loop. Tenshu-sama had already modified this loop in advance, starting with Azariah-san's first journey to Asia's world, so I would not bother trying to time Azariah-san's exact arrival and exact departure." Shokuhou explained solemnly.
The LORD Himself? He really was involved in Azariah's situation in some way, Azariah thought with a quiet reverence. It was no longer a mere if, it's a missionary work. But what kind of missionary work? Twelve worlds. That's the cycle. What was he supposed to do? Thinking quickly, all Azariah had done was simply tell the truth about himself, while keeping professional secrets out of personal safety for everyone else, such as his own real name - hence the name Azariah, and try to help someone out as much as he could, like in the case of Asia or Frenda.
...Did that mean every encounter he was going to have in the future would have him intervene in some way, according to the LORD's own time? If so, then Azariah quietly needed to consider and examine himself carefully. This was no mere random trip; this was a providential responsibility. He was essentially representing the entirety of the Mystical Body of Christ, as a laity who only wanted to study theology and get a master's degree.
"But what about Asia-san and Frenda-san?" Shirai asked, concerned. "Why are they coming along with Azariah-san?"
"...Something about not wanting His son to be left alone out there, and I could understand why," Shokuhou spoke softly, before looking at Frenda, who blinked in disbelief. "You should actually be glad, Frenda-san. You being sent with Azariah-san would actually guarantee your survival more. Meltdowner would not be able to reach you in any of the other eleven worlds, mainly because she doesn't really have access to interdimensional travel on Azariah's predicamental state."
"No, but..." Frenda muttered softly, her heart was now expressing worry.
If she leaves, while yes, she'd be completely safe from Mugino. On the other hand, she'd be leaving her own little sister Fremea behind. Who would look after her while she was gone?!
"Don't worry," says Shokuhou, but it was through the use of a remote that she pressed, allowing her to communicate with Frenda quietly.
"Eh?" Frenda muttered out loud.
"I and Misaka-san would take care of your sister. You don't have to worry. You just focus on trying to survive for your little sister's sake. You weren't originally supposed to be alive, and thus, like Azariah-san, you have a target painted on your back. You wouldn't just be worrying about Meltdowner, you pretty much literally have everything stacked up against you, Frenda-san. The moment you escaped death, you've already drawn the attention of monsters much older than the dark side. So yes, this is the best option for now to keep you safer, for your sake and that of your sister," Shokuhou spoke in private telepathy, where only Frenda can hear.
Frenda turned slowly pale and gulped at the sheer weight of the information. Hunted? Not just by Mugino, but by things older than the dark side? That... No... she... Now she felt quietly afraid, glancing at Azariah, who remained silent. What the hell has he not told her yet? What did Mental Out mean that she was supposed to be dead and not alive? She needed to find out. Her survival was at stake.
"Azariah-san," Shokuhou looked back at Azariah, who looked at her quietly. Shokuhou smiled a little, grateful. "...Thank you, for everything."
Azariah... quietly lowered his eyes and muttered in reverence. "Of course. But don't thank just me. Thank the One who allowed me to meet you."
"...Of course I would, forever," Shokuhou muttered softly. "Don't worry, I and Misaka-san would take care of things from here."
And...
Azariah, Asia, and Frenda disappeared completely from sight, making everyone look at each other, concerned.
Shokuhou quietly sighed, before glancing at a concerned Misaka. "...Ne, Misaka-san, I think it's about time we meet Kamijou-san again."
"Eh?" Misaka frowned, not knowing what Shokuhou's getting at.
"Didn't you hear what I said to Azariah-san? I promised that I'd take care of everything from here by the time he eventually comes back. That means... we have a lot of work to do," Shokuhou spoke with a resolved steel, and a serious expression.
"...Queen," Hokaze muttered, in quiet amazement.
Song Ends:
Location: Earth (A Certain Magical Index)
It was rather quiet now in Tokiwadai.
Except for the sirens that now echoed all across the street corners. Judgment Vehicles essentially.
All of the members of S.W.A.T. who took part in fending off the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs) were keeping their word and literally turning themselves in to Judgment. To Judgment alone, basically, because they generally informed the organization of this darker truth.
"Anti-Skill has been compromised for years now."
That set off alarm bells from the more senior members of Judgment. How long was such a corruption even enacted? More to the point, how was it possible for such a thing to slip by unnoticed? All of the S.W.A.T. officers genuinely did not know why. All of them had been recruited here and there from an unknown contact. They never saw a face, just a voice call, and that's it, orders relayed, and they even get paid for it.
An anonymous contact. No record. No trace. That couldn't be good. That was the thought of one Kuroko Shirai who had been thinking about what these men were testifying. If Anti-Skill was compromised, then what of Judgment? Such a thought became outright discomforting to Shirai. If it were not for the incident with the BEDs, none of this would have been dragged back out into the light.
But that was the problem. Was this even light vs darkness? Or was that even a smokescreen for something that none of them were ever trained to combat?
Shirai was just glancing at another armored truck pulling out when she heard her fellow Judgment Officer, Komaki Makigami, call out to her. "Shirai-san!"
She glanced quietly towards the brown-haired twintailed Judgment Officer and fellow student of Tokiwadai. "Konori-senpai and Aomi-senpai are asking for you right now!"
"...Ah, I see," Shirai muttered grimly, looking in the direction where the armored truck pulled off to.
"...Shirai-san?" Makigami muttered, concerned as she noticed the silence going off for a little while. "Are you alright?"
Shirai glanced at her. Was she alright? Her eyes were lowered, forming a grim, contemplative frown. "...I think the better question is, is everyone in Judgment alright, Makigami?"
"Eh?" Makigami blinked a little. "What do you mean?"
Shirai spoke further, grimly. "You heard the song, didn't you?"
Makigami flinched a little.
"...Everyone heard the song. Everyone in the entire world saw what had happened here. Everyone heard the confessions of all of those S.W.A.T. personnel about a dark side lurking within our city, on live television, while fighting whatever these dark-eyed monsters are that can't be explained by science, so tell me, Makigami, are we really alright? Because if this corruption had been under our nose this whole time, who's to say that we aren't compromised either?" Shirai asked, plainly being realistic about the situation, to her bitter regret.
"...I," Makigami hesitated. She... didn't like to think about it.
Shirai glanced back in the direction from which the armored vehicle had last left. No, Shirai refused to let this be. If what they said was true, and she no longer had any reason to doubt, then she needed to take action. Judgment as a whole needed to take action. Because if they don't, then their entire city's next generation would suffer unnecessarily what they've unknowingly suffered for so long. Corruption, hidden under a squeaky badge.
"...I wore this with pride, because I wanted to be a civil servant, to protect the innocent and defend the people," Shirai muttered, placing her hand to her green-white armband. "Now, I have just found out that one of our own security forces has been corrupt from the inside out, and I want to do everything I can to address it. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to hunt these people who call themselves the dark side, and I'm going to drag them back into the light if I have to."
...And it was not just because of her righteousness burning. She heard Justice's song. That Justice who is Panginoong Diyos. If He is Justice, and Justice is using this to flush the dark side out, then she will not let this slide. She will find them, and she will arrest them all and make them stand trial.
...Somewhere, there was Frenda Seivelun. Her mind, no longer capable of coping with anything she had ever done. All of her sins lay bare, not from her point of view but from the eyes of Someone else. Now? She was quietly limping. Not literally, her legs were still alright. It's... something else. She never left Azariah's side ever since this entire incident had started.
Azariah was just nearby, not bothered by her presence, sitting down on a nearby bench and quietly praying the rosary with his Saint Benedict Rosary. After all of that, Frenda thought as her heart grew disturbed. After all of that, he is still acting like nothing world-shaking had just happened.
Frenda couldn't take it, clenching her fists. "...How, the, hell, are you this calm?"
Azariah glanced at Frenda. He was already in the 3rd Luminous Mystery, which spoke of the Kingdom of GOD. He spoke humbly. "...It's not that I'm calm. It's just that I know who did this, and I trust Him, that's all."
"Trust who? That... That... Diyos of yours?" Frenda hesitated to say the Name. Before, she would have just laughed at it. Now, saying His Name felt like a heavier sentence.
"I do," Azariah never hesitated. He looked at her in the eye, being more than willing to be honest with her. "Where I come from, even though it's not perfect, the Diyos who is Love that I worshipped reigns, no matter how much evil had thrown itself from where I come from, it never lasted forever. Here, in your city, and the rest of your world... I don't think you ever actually knew who He is. Your city says what you are, cleaner on the outside, but inside is filled with dead men's bones."
"...H...Hah, so what? Are you gonna say that I'm some sinner that needs repentance? Is that it?!" Frenda turned aggressive, glaring at him.
"...No," Azariah swiftly said, making Frenda blink. "...The LORD had already said what needed to be said. Everyone around the world heard His song, so why should I repeat a much lesser and unnecessary statement than what He had already implanted as a seed?"
Frenda tried to talk, but couldn't argue, clenching her fists. "...I don't get it. You said you were normal, but you were anything but normal, not after what you did to those... whatever the hell those things were."
"And I didn't lie about that," Azariah explained. "I've got no superpowers. I'm no esper or something with powers. I am a nobody, whose weakness was used to set those things, the BEDs, free. I was baptized and confirmed by my Diyos through His Church; that was all. None of it can be credited to me. All I did was stand against evil as it is, with no pretense."
Frenda flinched. The way he said it, he wasn't joking, he wasn't lying, he genuinely believed it.
"...And I know that you are a Level 0 as well," Azariah explained humbly.
Frenda's breath hitched, twitching.
"So, if this is about powers, then it doesn't explain anything and explains nothing. I have no powers, I'm just a person who is far from home, who is permitted by Providence to bear witness to His Name, even when I feel inadequate. I'm not a perfect person. I have flaws. I have sins. And I accuse myself of it every day, to remind myself, I am no better than my fellow man," Azariah explained, as he looked at Frenda intently. "So, if you are going to expect me to judge you, then I will refuse your conception of me. I am no judge; I am simply the one who walks the Way and never lets evil have the last word. As for you, that's between you... and the LORD that loved you. I have no place in it, except to accept you as you are."
Frenda's fists clenched even more, muttering. "...I...I don't get you at all. You won't judge me, but you'd accept me. Do you... Do you know how gullibly stupid that is?"
"Stupidity is in our name," Azariah smiled sadly. "I am, as the BEDs say, a Kakure Kirishitan. So, of course, I'm stupid, in walking a path that most would not want to tread, so that I can save souls with Him."
He looked back to the rosary and prayed once more in silence, while Frenda trembled on her lips.
...Just who are you, Azariah? Frenda thought, in irritation and a pang in her heart.
And, after a while, as Frenda kept staring at him, by the time Azariah was at the 1st Sorrowful Mystery, which was the Agony in the Garden, they heard footsteps and a call.
"Azariah-san."
Someone called him. Azariah and Frenda looked. Azariah looked and recognized two of the beautiful women who were right in front of him, because he had seen A Certain Scientific Railgun first. One was Mii Konori, who called him, and the other was Aomi Yanagisako, who smiled with quiet interest, yet carried unease after what just happened here and across the world. Both of them were beautiful, more than the anime or source material could ever portray them.
"Do you mind if we have a bit of your time?" Konori asked softly, putting her hand to her glasses.
"No, I do not mind," Azariah shook his head. "How may I assist you, ma'am?"
"Well..." Konori muttered grimly.
There, in the Judgment 003's office within Tokiwadai, was where Azariah and Frenda were currently.
Shirai was already there, taking down any notes she could write from her notepad, as Konori and Yanagisako were the ones asking questions to Azariah, who was seated on a chair.
Just like what he did with Rias and Sona, he did the same here. He explained himself, revealing that his real name is not Azariah but a necessary alias to keep the people related to them protected. He told them about who he was. A university student attending a university run by Dominicans. He told them about his world, his planet, and the total created order that he came from.
Eucharistic miracles. Marian apparitions. Miracles. Everything. He never intended to preach; he was simply explaining about his own home. Everyone in the room ran quiet with every tale, especially Frenda, who looked at Azariah like her world was shattering over and over like layers of bricks. What sealed the deal, of course, was Misaki Shokuhou, who was present as she vouched for Azariah and offered further clarification.
The facts were undeniable to Judgment's seniors. Azariah was from another Earth, from somewhere that is more than just a physical universe, a total created order, one of many, where Love reigned as King and whose throne was a wooden Cross.
Then, same with Rias and with Sona, Azariah explained about the BEDs.
"The Black-Eyed Daimoniacs. BEDs as a modern acronym. They got that acronym because of their eyes, which are less black and more like portals to somewhere so exteriorly dark that it's... indescribable, to put it mildly," says Azariah.
Leaning on the wall, listening, was Mikoto Misaka, who twitched with every word. She heard this before from Shokuhou, but hearing this information again from someone else really made her hurl. What kind of sick monster would enslave entire populations as cannon fodder? Ha-Satanas himself apparently. Right near her, there were Junko Hokaze and Satori Kobayashi, who were both present, both of whom turned paler and shocked in horror as they slowly absorbed the information that Azariah was speaking of.
The BEDs are a diverse sets of categories, of multi-origin, of multi-faceted, middle hidden natures commonly identified by Azariah's world's ancient writers and patristic fathers as daimons. Not demons. Daimons. Rebel and fallen intelligences, enslaved against their own will, under a tyrannical regime long before primordial was a word that existed, ruled by an Unkillable Evil One who cannot die.
Everyone paid close attention to Azariah's testimony.
The BEDs were one of the most ancient enemies of the entirety of the human race, which began even during the time of Saint Adam, and had been one of those mostrous races that Cain himself had to survive with tooth, nail, and grit as he wandered the earth, and had been around during the time of Noah, swarming every layer of every Earth like spirits of the air, awaiting the command of their Dark Lord, Lucifer Helel ben Shachar, Ha-Satanas. Quite persistent, tenaciously deadly in variety, usually operating through the ordinary activities of temptation that allow conflicts to emerge across entire civilizations, and in many cases, were responsible for their downfall. As far as Azariah's own Earth goes, it had dealt with them across the centuries, such as the Crusades, the Hundred Years' War, the Black Death, and such. They were there, in the darkest hours of humanity.
And, as of their recent activity, World War II, his world's version of it, and revealed the same things he said to Rias and Sona.
"My World War II was a lot longer than yours. It began around 1930 when Adolf Hitler rose to power and became Chancellor."
Everyone felt the cold of the atmosphere as Azariah's explanation turned into a darker footnote.
"Hitler had set off what's called the Great Depression, using his spies to set off the Wall Street Crash of 1929. Then, around 1930, he orchestrated the Night of the Long Knives, which purged the entire government of Germany within one night. Just one night, Germany fell, its citizens ignorant, its government leaders dead, and their deaths were blamed on the Jews, and Hitler became Chancellor.
Once the enemies of his party were gone, Hitler set off to take control, first targeting Austria, and then of other neighboring weaker countries. They were powerless before the advanced technological machinery of the Nazi regime. Of what was unheard of, the Nazis had developed their weapons through what was called dasma, basically, energy weapons with no need to reload. How did he get all of this? History says that the Nazis were just that advanced due to their brilliant scientists. Actually, the Nazis had help, and this was long before the late 20s, back when they were still the Thule Society before Hitler reorganized them.
Hitler, through his occult connections with darker worlds, had allies, and through them, was taught darker sciences, and used them against his fellow man. History sees it as advanced science, and it is true, but it's a twisted science, misused for tyranny. But of course, what does that have to do with the BEDs? Simple. The BEDs were the Nazis' own shocktroopers."
Everyone widened their eyes, except for Shokuhou, who grimaced quietly.
"...Around 1938, the battlefield had changed completely. The BEDs were everywhere, acting as the hidden regiments, tearing down anyone who opposed them. No one survived their onslaught. History thinks of it as Nazi cruelty. In part, that's true. But they missed the other half. The Nazis were no mere tyranny, they were trying to build a millenarian empire, a Reich that would last not merely one thousand years, but forever. That was how ambitious my world's Hitler was.
The war lasted from 1930 to 1960. By 1960, Hitler and his allies fought to the bitter end with the last of his troops in what was called the Battle of Austria, which is where Hitler and those loyal to him took their stand against the Allies, and the Knights of the Holy Order who assisted them, under the blessing of then current pontiff of the Catholic Church, Pope John XIII. Then, finally, in the capital of Vienna, Adolf Hitler, the one who murdered countless Jews and Christians, the one who enslaved the good people of Germany, died at last, for he refused to surrender even in the face of death.
...Unlike what you may have thought of your world's Hitler, my world's Hitler was an Anti-Christ, one of the worst. And as for the BEDs? No longer seen since then. Their permission under Divine Providence was up. With Hitler gone, mankind was free from every evil influence, which included the BEDs. All documentary footage of the BEDs had been confiscated completely by the Allies, in fear of a global panic ensuing when the war had just recently been declared over after so long.
But the Church did not want to be silent. Thus, the Church opened its doors to the world, through what is called the Second Vatican Council, whose primary concern was for the healing of the world and its pastoral care. The Soviet Union by this time had already collapsed, for Hitler had crippled them so badly, killed their leader, Joseph Stalin, early in the war, that the Russian government had to adopt a new kind of government, a federal one. Thus, communism died along with Nazism. That didn't mean everything was peaceful, hence why the Second Vatican Council had to be convened, to ensure that the people could have hope again, in a world that had been lying in ruins.
That... is the World War II that my world has been through." Azariah explained lastly.
No one dared to talk. Everyone froze in horror at the scale. 1930 to 1960? That long? How...? But... how...?
"...How the hell did your world even survive that?" Misaka sported a disturbed look. She couldn't imagine it. A World War II that lasted that long? Thirty years of it? Misaka was not an idiot. She, like everyone else in Tokiwadai, had studied their Earth's World War II. It was a bad of course, but... the way Azariah explained his World War II was like... comparing a simple spark of electricity to a literal cyclone that lasted for thirty years.
Azariah explained softly. "The Church. When the Allies saw the devastating losses inflicted on them by the BEDs, only then did the secular and modern leaders turn to the Pope for help, just like before with the Crusades. My Earth has seen catastrophes that most people of my generation have completely forgotten, either because they don't know which is the majority, or maybe they did, but they never wanted to talk about it for fear of being ostracized or labelled as insane. Because how exactly can one explain what really happened in World War II to anybody who genuinely thinks we are alone in the universe? Because that's what my generation was. We completely forgot the sacrifices our grandparents and ancestors made, and that I feel is a pyrrhic victory for the BEDs, even. They never appeared again after the War, but the damage had been done. They just reversed the trauma in a different direction."
"...Then, what about Japan?" Kobayashi would ask, in quiet dread. Some part of her didn't want to know, but another part of her couldn't help but be curious.
Azariah was solemnly quiet. For one. For two. For three. With every second that passed, everyone now quietly got the same message. Something happened during his World War II that affected his world's Japan. Misaka immediately glanced at Shokuhou because she knew that Shokuhou was the only one in this room with actual context on Azariah. Shokuhou looked quiet and silent. Misaka didn't like where this was going.
"...The Imperial Japanese Army," Azariah spoke carefully, before explaining. "On the surface, it's still human cruelty, with Imperial Japan somehow successfully conquering the entirety of Asia, with only Australia barely holding the line. But, if you got the actual footage, if you've heard the exact unsuppressed stories from every Asian nation that was under Imperial Japan, you're going to have to realize that there were monstrous creatures that lurked in the dark, and I'm not merely talking about the BEDs. Other daimonic rebellious horrors lurked in the shadows of every conquered nation in Asia. The most common of them was the Hitokuijinshu."
Everyone turns quietly pale.
"...Hitokuijinshu?" Hokaze slowly muttered. "You mean, like they eat people?"
"In a nutshell, yes," Azariah explained grimly. "That's the kind of daimonic species that ran amok across Asia. Very tall, dark fur, three eyes, three horns, sharp-edged teeth, six large arms, one tail. That's one of the reasons why the Allies had a very hard time retaking the countries that Japan had occupied. It wasn't just the IJA you had to worry about, it's... well, the daimonic wildlife that embedded and took advantage of the conquest. Though interestingly, among the countries, only the Philippines was quite stubbornly resistant to the Hitokuijinshu even when it was conquered."
"How so?" Shirai had been noting everything down ever since Azariah had been explaining, and was paying close attention. Their world had already seen the BEDs in action right in the middle of Tokiwadai, so she would need to take into account other potential threats that could be scurrying about.
"The Philippines, being the only Catholic nation in Asia, was basically a beacon. The faith is stronger there, and its vast majority of people clung to the Most High and to the Blessed Mother at the height of spiritual darkness when most countries in Asia became complete cannibalistic wildernesses, most of whom only wielded nothing but rosaries and scapulars, as well as the Sacraments and other sacramentals, while some fought on the front lines as resistance fighters. It was also the first nation to be liberated by the Allies precisely because that country had never been an easy conquest for the rebel daimonic species. The battle was brutal, but the Hitokuijinshu never even had a foothold there." Azariah explained.
"Well... that's just great. More of these damned monsters to worry about," Misaka sighed heavily with a contemplative frown on her face.
Azariah had quietly requested a couple of papers from Konori so that he could list down the general things one needed to know about the rebel and fallen daimon species. There were far too many to catalogue, so it would be impossible to include all of the info, thus, he quietly wrote down the general gist of what they were on the papers for Judgment to use with discretion.
"...Azariah-san," Konori spoke carefully, concerned. "Are we... going to have to worry about these daimonic races from now on?"
"I would say yes, Konori-san," Azariah nodded grimly. "If you want my opinion on the matter, which you are free to modify or reject to your discretion, you're going to have to start mandating all of your Judgment officers to apply military training."
Everyone looked at him, troubled by such a proposal, though it was not like he was wrong. The BEDs were not something anyone had ever expected at all. One could argue that the only reason they even appear at all is because of Azariah's presence. While that part is true, that still does not guarantee that the BEDs, or the other rebel daemonic species under Lucifer Helel ben Shachar, would ever not come back.
Not to mention...
"Actually, I would agree with Azariah-san's proposal," says one serious Kuroko Shirai.
It made everyone look at her in surprise.
"Shirai-san?" Konori asked, concerned.
"Konori-senpai, the rebel daimons are one factor to consider, but we should not forget the fact that this incident has revealed one single detail. Our entire law enforcement divisions were completely compromised, starting with Anti-Skill." Shirai pointed out.
The entire room turned sober and grim. Of course, everyone knew what Shirai was talking about. Already, these men who turned themselves in, all belonging to the secret paramilitary organization S.W.A.T., had been confessing, with every testimony confirming the darker truth. Anti-Skill had been compromised; thus, it could no longer be trusted. However, news reports both inside and outside Academy City were already discussing the possibility of corruption in other departments, one of which is Judgment.
"Based on this information, not even our own juniors are safe within our organization. We would need to keep an eye on all of our members, all of them, check every record, check every schedule, check every hobby. We would need to investigate everyone thoroughly and be held accountable, that includes me, because for all I knew, I was used by someone corrupt to accomplish an objective," Shirai explained grimly.
"Kuroko..." Misaka muttered, concerned.
"...Shirai-san does have a point, Mii-chan," Yanagisako spoke grimly, putting her hand to her waist. "In a twisted way, without the BEDs showing up, we wouldn't even know that there was an entire corrupt group within Anti-Skill. S.W.A.T. is one of them, but what about potentially other units we do not know about? Arrested S.W.A.T. members had confessed that there were other units out there, even though they never knew most of the details. How far does this corruption really go?"
Konori had her arms crossed, grimacing quietly in thought.
"Might I suggest something?" Azariah raised his hand a little, making everyone look at him. "Amongst Anti-Skill personnel, I'd probably recommend Aiho Yomikawa, she's one of the clean ones in Anti-Skill, from what I know at least."
"Yomikawa-sensei..." Shirai recalled the dark blue ponytail-haired woman who often wore a green tracksuit when she wasn't on duty.
"But how exactly are you sure of that, Azariah-san?" Yanagisako asked, genuinely curious.
Before Azariah could explain and clarify terms, Shokuhou beat him to the punch and spoke to them all. "Because in Azariah's world, Yanagisako-san, our world is... strangely recorded in his world, on the label of a "light novel" if you could believe it."
Everyone blinked a little. "Hai?"
"Allow me to explain the... strange phenomenon of my world," Azariah gently yet humbly suggested. "On my Earth, humanity has the capability of recording events, even though imperfect, of your world and other worlds and labeling them under the term "fiction". So, yes, a light novel, for instance, is how our world knew yours. But again, "fiction" is not exactly accurate at this point. For one, you are all real rational beings with free will and intelligence, so trying to say you do not exist where I come from is like saying historical persons did not exist even when recorded to be so. For two, there's a term that a late Catholic Christian author named J.R.R. Tolkien used, which I'd prefer to use. Sub-creation."
"...Sub-creation?" Hokaze asked, curious yet mindboggled at what Azariah was describing. Because the way he explained it, it seemed like he was saying his world knew literally everything about them, through a fictional medium.
"It's essentially an act of participation on the part of creatures in the work of the Creator. Writing stories is one such trait, but that is not the only thing contained within the term. Everything humans do is an act of sub-creation, such as building infrastructure, planting trees and other plantlife, feeding animals, organizing materials, and more. Whatever the case, whether the authors may know it or not, the Creator is simply giving them a kind of slice as it were, allowing them to participate in shaping worlds, in varying degrees. So, in reality, there was always One Creator of All Worlds, the GOD I worshipped, and the various authors are instruments of His will, whether active or permissive. In this sense, fiction as a term that says it deals with make-believe... never really existed. Fiction is modern myth, and like any myth, it expresses truths that are obscured, but nevertheless, still there. Somewhere. Somewhen. Thus, your world, no matter how dark it is, is still created good originally. This, I believe with conviction," Azariah explained humbly.
Everyone was silent and quietly absorbed Azariah's words.
"...So that's how you knew me then," Frenda... didn't know how to even feel about this, with arms crossed, yet her eyes were subdued when looking at Azariah, the man who saved her from Mugino. "I'm basically exposed to probably a million people back in your world. Like... honestly, I kinda feel creeped out about that."
"I'd understand that perspective," Azariah nodded grimly. "Not everyone has good intentions, and thus, because most would think you do not exist, some may undoubtedly objectify you and everyone else in this room. I, for one, had refused to do so even when learning about you all." He looked meaningfully at Shirai, who noticed. "Like, I would humbly admit to being a fan of Shirai Kuroko essentially."
"Eh?" Shirai blinked a bit, surprised. Frenda twitched and her heart clenched. Something about that declaration, she felt, she didn't like personally, but she didn't know why. Everyone else couldn't help but pay attention, each with their own intrigued and amused expressions.
"When I was young, back when I was fourteen years old, when I was watching the shows that are based on your world, you happened to inspire me on the virtue of justice. It made me reflect daily on what I should do, how I can be just in a world that craves for justice? I always thought of that every day, so, I would have to thank you, Shirai-san, truly," he bowed his head a little, humbly.
Shirai took a step back, feeling her heart clench a little. She didn't... expect this. Her? A role model for this person? The same person who had pretty much made the international news headlines by fighting against the BEDs and was involved at the center of an unexplainable miracle, where the sun dimmed into an afternoon, where the twinkling stars of the night skies blinked in rapid succession, when the winds blew gently as the leaves waved in worship, when the birds of the air formed the symbols of Chi-Rho and of the Most Sacred Heart?
Of all people, she was the one who inspired him?
Misaka, who had been quietly watching, couldn't help but draw a quiet smile. So, even this Azariah person was inspired by her kouhai? She had to admit that was interesting and... strangely comforting.
"Wow, Shirai-san," says Shokuhou, who smirked quietly in amusement, putting her hands on the twintail's shoulder. "It must be nice to know that you are probably responsible for whatever this young man did."
"Wha? But, I..." Shirai looked quietly embarrassed and blushing a little. No wait, why was she blushing?! Her feelings are only for Onee-sama...
...But Shirai felt her heart stop. No, none of this. Not now. This would be insulting to Azariah, who was completely honest to a fault, genuinely respectful of her. She could see it in his eyes. She inspired him. He didn't lie about that. Azariah deserved better, especially considering the service he provided for the city despite being an outsider. Not to mention... it felt like seeing a reward in advance. She had always wanted to be a model servant for the people, and now, seeing Azariah honestly stating she inspired him.. it made her a little happier.
Shirai coughed her mouth a little, before smiling a little. "I see... then, I'm happy at least I've set a proper example for you to follow."
Azariah simply nodded, humbly.
And then, Azariah would slowly notice. Everyone noticed. His body is slowly flickering. It made everyone worry.
"What's happening?" Shirai asked in worry.
"...My time here seems to be up," Azariah spoke grimly. "This has happened before, back in the last world I ended up in, and Asia got dragged along with me." He said, glancing at Asia, who also noticed she was slowly fading, raising both of her hands with a quiet resignation.
"What the hell?!" says a shocked Frenda, as she notices her body slowly fading as well. "Why the hell is my body phasing away?!"
Azariah's earlier fears when he got here had been realized. It wasn't just him. The first person he meets in any world gets dragged along with him. First, Asia, now Frenda. He wondered who would be next.
"Don't worry, everyone," says Shokuhou softly, as everyone looked at her. She had that knowing, solemn expression. "This wouldn't be the last time we'd see Azariah-san and the others again."
"Oi, you know something, Shokuhou?" Misaka asked, concerned.
"Something that Tenshu-sama told me," Shokuhou spoke reverently, making even Azariah pay attention.
Tenshu-sama. The Judeo-Christian GOD. Panginoong Diyos.
Like Asia, Shokuhou had seen him when she tried to peek into his mind. Azariah didn't know what she actually saw; he never asked what had happened out of personal respect for Shokuhou.
"Azariah-san is apparently in a specific cycle of sorts, looping through twelve specific worlds―twelve total created narrative orders, which includes our world and the last world that Azariah had been through, which is Asia-san's world. Originally, Azariah-san's time in all of the twelve worlds was supposed to last up to ten hours each, as this was set by a being of sorts, a so-called random omnipotent being (ROB) who never actually realized what she, yes she, in this case did when she put Azariah-san into this loop. Tenshu-sama had already modified this loop in advance, starting with Azariah-san's first journey to Asia's world, so I would not bother trying to time Azariah-san's exact arrival and exact departure." Shokuhou explained solemnly.
The LORD Himself? He really was involved in Azariah's situation in some way, Azariah thought with a quiet reverence. It was no longer a mere if, it's a missionary work. But what kind of missionary work? Twelve worlds. That's the cycle. What was he supposed to do? Thinking quickly, all Azariah had done was simply tell the truth about himself, while keeping professional secrets out of personal safety for everyone else, such as his own real name - hence the name Azariah, and try to help someone out as much as he could, like in the case of Asia or Frenda.
...Did that mean every encounter he was going to have in the future would have him intervene in some way, according to the LORD's own time? If so, then Azariah quietly needed to consider and examine himself carefully. This was no mere random trip; this was a providential responsibility. He was essentially representing the entirety of the Mystical Body of Christ, as a laity who only wanted to study theology and get a master's degree.
"But what about Asia-san and Frenda-san?" Shirai asked, concerned. "Why are they coming along with Azariah-san?"
"...Something about not wanting His son to be left alone out there, and I could understand why," Shokuhou spoke softly, before looking at Frenda, who blinked in disbelief. "You should actually be glad, Frenda-san. You being sent with Azariah-san would actually guarantee your survival more. Meltdowner would not be able to reach you in any of the other eleven worlds, mainly because she doesn't really have access to interdimensional travel on Azariah's predicamental state."
"No, but..." Frenda muttered softly, her heart was now expressing worry.
If she leaves, while yes, she'd be completely safe from Mugino. On the other hand, she'd be leaving her own little sister Fremea behind. Who would look after her while she was gone?!
"Don't worry," says Shokuhou, but it was through the use of a remote that she pressed, allowing her to communicate with Frenda quietly.
"Eh?" Frenda muttered out loud.
"I and Misaka-san would take care of your sister. You don't have to worry. You just focus on trying to survive for your little sister's sake. You weren't originally supposed to be alive, and thus, like Azariah-san, you have a target painted on your back. You wouldn't just be worrying about Meltdowner, you pretty much literally have everything stacked up against you, Frenda-san. The moment you escaped death, you've already drawn the attention of monsters much older than the dark side. So yes, this is the best option for now to keep you safer, for your sake and that of your sister," Shokuhou spoke in private telepathy, where only Frenda can hear.
Frenda turned slowly pale and gulped at the sheer weight of the information. Hunted? Not just by Mugino, but by things older than the dark side? That... No... she... Now she felt quietly afraid, glancing at Azariah, who remained silent. What the hell has he not told her yet? What did Mental Out mean that she was supposed to be dead and not alive? She needed to find out. Her survival was at stake.
"Azariah-san," Shokuhou looked back at Azariah, who looked at her quietly. Shokuhou smiled a little, grateful. "...Thank you, for everything."
Azariah... quietly lowered his eyes and muttered in reverence. "Of course. But don't thank just me. Thank the One who allowed me to meet you."
"...Of course I would, forever," Shokuhou muttered softly. "Don't worry, I and Misaka-san would take care of things from here."
And...
Azariah, Asia, and Frenda disappeared completely from sight, making everyone look at each other, concerned.
Shokuhou quietly sighed, before glancing at a concerned Misaka. "...Ne, Misaka-san, I think it's about time we meet Kamijou-san again."
"Eh?" Misaka frowned, not knowing what Shokuhou's getting at.
"Didn't you hear what I said to Azariah-san? I promised that I'd take care of everything from here by the time he eventually comes back. That means... we have a lot of work to do," Shokuhou spoke with a resolved steel, and a serious expression.
"...Queen," Hokaze muttered, in quiet amazement.
Song Ends:
Chapter 14 (2) - Loop 3 - Highschool of the Dead
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Song Begins: '28 Days Later' Soundtrack In The House, In A Heartbeat
Location: ?
...The first thing that Azariah immediately noticed was... he, Asia Argento, and Frenda Seivelun ended up somewhere.
But that somewhere was littered with a foreboding sense of quiet. Abandoned roads. Broken windows. Discarded objects. Shattered glass. Azariah noticed even a bloody pillow of sorts on the ground, a Pretty Cure pillow, which Azariah would recognize as Cure Black, one of the characters from the Futari wa Pretty Cure franchise.
"...What the hell?" Frenda muttered, looking at the blood smears on the pillow.
Asia herself frowned in concern, speaking quietly, a spiritual warning intuition of sorts. "Something's happened in this world long before we got here."
Azariah glanced at the wall, which had the vandalized words: "END OF THE WORLD! HA-HA-HA~!" painted in emerald tags.
He doesn't truthfully know what narrative world they ended up on, but the signs at least are there for him to recognize. A post-apocalyptic setting of sorts. The atmosphere itself quietly screamed death and its shadow. The question remained, however. What kind of death had reigned in this place long before they got here?
It wasn't safe to be standing around here. Azariah could feel it underneath his bones and flesh. Something lurks within here. Whatever lurked here had already left a trail. This wasn't edgy for the sake of it, it was calculated malice.
He spoke grimly, yet quietly. "...We should probably move out of this street. Keep quiet. Don't speak unless it is absolutely necessary."
Frenda didn't even need to be told twice. This place was already giving her the creeps. She would have taken this opportunity to ask about what Azariah even knew about her original fate, but considering the circumstances, she'd hold it off. Not to mention, Frenda could smell death when she'd see it. She's seen it far too much in her line of work on the dark side.
Asia simply nodded quietly, with no further comment.
They quietly took a walk, but kept it slow. They didn't rush. For all they knew, just one sound was more than enough to trigger the instincts of whatever caused this. Azariah glanced around, looking for any contextual clues. More broken windows. More broken cars. Some cars looked like they had even exploded in a seemingly orchestrated accident, running over each other. Some had blood-smeared remains due to some kind of hit-and-run. Azariah logically could conjecture that the civilians of this world may have been hitting something, or trying to hit something.
Azariah couldn't help but be reminded of the various zombie movies that he and his best friend Richard used to watch. The patterns were all there. But he still wasn't sure if this was a world of zombies. He still has yet to fully identify who is the suspect threat.
They kept walking for around thirty minutes. Still nothing. No sign of life anywhere. They eventually realized that this was a city of sorts, due to the infrastructure of ruined buildings that were taller than the usual fifth or tenth floors. And...
...They heard gunshots echoing across the distance.
"Gunshots?" Frenda narrowed her eyes, looking towards her left, her ears twitching.
"...We follow where it leads," Azariah muttered softly.
Normally, following the sound trail of bullets was a bad idea, but considering that this is a post-apocalyptic setting, they have extremely limited options. They couldn't just stay out in the open. They quietly run for it, but still maintain caution as they run through the ruins. Eventually, they were at a crossroads intersection. They were somewhere around a police station, and...
"...?!" Azariah, and the two girls, widened their eyes.
Right when they crossed the road, they encountered a group of survivors. For Asia and Frenda, they didn't know who these people were, but for Azariah, he would definitely slowly recognize them. The said survivors that they encountered were just as surprised to find them, along with a cute puppy dog who tilted his head, and didn't bark, but rather felt subdued in awe, specifically at Azariah for some reason. Both groups stopped.
"What the hell?" says one pink-haired twin tail among the other group, by the name of Saya Takagi, looking surprised.
Thankfully, nobody in the other group fired. They were just surprised to see Azariah and the two other girls with them.
...Oh no. Azariah thought in a grim horror. This is the one cancelled manga that he read a while back with Richard.
Highschool of the Dead.
Where to start with such a world? The basic gist of that world's story essentially boils down to a zombie outbreak that occurred all throughout the world in just one day. Nobody actually knew why. It was never explained how the outbreak started. That was essentially the problem Azariah would have to deal with. Nothing was truthfully a random chance, not to Azariah, who could feel the instinctive death within the air. Either someone or something caused this. If this were a natural phenomenon local to this world, there could potentially be an anti-viral that one could inject. If this weren't a natural phenomenon, that's an even bigger issue. There are too many unknowns here.
At the very least, he recognizes the group of survivors that they ran into. Leading this survivor group was none other than Takashi Komuro, who used to be a second-year high school student, with black hair, brown eyes, and a decently handsome face, which sported a look of weariness, which Azariah couldn't blame him for, not with the kind of world High School of the Dead was.
He recalled Richard one time comparing this world to Walking Dead, only making it more anime-like and removing much of the padding of psychological drama, and replacing it with more action-adventure.
He recognizes all of the survivor group. The gang's all here. But the only problem is, where exactly in the timeline of High School of the Dead are they in? The manga itself was cancelled after Volume 7, which was around the time the gang headed to the police station, where one of the survivors, Rei Miyamoto, the one with the long brown hair, had been trying to look for her missing father.
Would it be that time, or a little much earlier? He couldn't really tell.
"...Raggh."
Azariah could hear the groaning sound of death that echoed to the northeast. He glanced at the one. No, two. No, three. A few more pale walkers whose eyes looked lifeless.
"...Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Frenda didn't even look surprised, looking a little exasperated. She had seen plenty of bioweapon projects in connection with the dark side. A zombie outbreak, honestly, wasn't new for her and was just your typical dark side experiment gone wrong. It was only new in the sense that she's literally walking into a world where the outbreak spread too far before the competent authorities, dark side or otherwise, could put a dent in the undead fodder.
Frenda could just bring out the bombs from under her skirt, but she wasn't stupid enough to try that. If this place were crawling with these things, making more noise would set them off and add more annoying numbers.
Asia, on the other hand, was silent. Instead of feeling frightened, she was grim yet solemn. She, who had seen the True Christ, who is her Father, was no longer fearful of anything. What actually did worried her was the sheer desecration of the natural order laid before her eyes, a mockery of her Father's creation, in lifeless walkers that do not have a soul, yet whose natural evils make them move like puppets.
The other group of survivors, led by Takashi got their weapons ready. Azariah could see the other male survivor, Kohta Hirano, aiming his suppressor rifle steadily. Good choice. No need to go loud. Stealth was the primary option for this kind of outbreak, since these things have quite the super hearing.
"Takashi," says Rei, who held out her own suppressor rifle, with a cautious tone.
"...Yeah, I know," says Takashi, who glanced cautiously at Azariah and the two women with him.
What to do here? Azariah has no weapons. Asia at least has her Sacred Gear, Twilight Healing, which potentially means she'd be immune to the zombie virus of this world, unless said zombie virus works a little differently. Frenda at least has her multiple caches of toy bombs that she somehow hides under her skirt. Azariah was curious about that part. He figured that Academy City had developed hammerspace for such things that, while it looked miraculous, could actually be explained scientifically.
Azariah glanced upward at the skies. It was dark, with no sunlight. The winds were blowing coldly. Was it typhoon season? He hoped not. The undead were bad enough, but with the weather getting involved, he's going to have to deal with another enemy, which is nature itself. When it comes to an actual zombie outbreak, it's not really as easy to survive as it sounds. You'd have to worry about what type of food or water you'd be consuming. You'd have to worry about personal hygiene. You'd have to worry about resupplying every now and then in case supplies almost run out. Among other factors.
Never mind the zombies. If the zombies won't get you, Mother Nature will.
Azariah had to wonder. Considering a zombie apocalypse had occurred, what exactly happened to this world's Catholic Church? It wasn't really dealt with in the series proper, but considering that on the surface, it seems like a modern world before the hell of the outbreak took over, it wouldn't be out of place to say the denominations and sects of Christianity must have existed here. Would this world actually have a legitimate Catholic Church compared to High School DxD and A Certain Magical Index?
Azariah has no idea. He genuinely hoped so, but he also maintained a discerning level of caution. Even a zombie outbreak cannot break the continuity of the Catholic Church. Nothing could. If the Catholic Church of this world had been so thoroughly wiped out in this outbreak for some reason, then it's proof that this cannot be the Catholic Church where Azariah is a member of. Hence, it's a world where, without the Sacraments, natural evils were allowed to go further than they should, case in point, a zombie outbreak.
People in the modern day, when thinking of zombie outbreaks, never actually stop to consider... what actually happens to a world that has a zombie outbreak, but the Catholic Church is still there? It was quite strange how nobody thought of that. Once the pieces fall into place and you take the Church into account, then you get the real context of the framework of the world. You can now tell if this world was compromised from the start, or if it wasn't compromised. Only two ways. No way to go. Either the Catholic Church really is the Catholic Church that is connected to the original Alpha Point, which is Christ Himself, from the Incarnation up to the Ascension, or... or it isn't, and is simply the Church only in name and appearance. But no Pope. No Sacraments. No Mary.
Highschool of the Dead never mentioned any of this. You could chalk it up to secular reasons, but it's a hint at least. There wouldn't be a zombie outbreak if there were a Catholic Church here.
Takashi and his group were already engaging the undead, or "Them.", as they and other inhabitants of this world seem to call the zombies here. Why "Them" as a term? Azariah may be overthinking things just with one random naming sequence, but why would generally all of the survivors call these things "Them" and not the regular word "Zombie"? Unless, of course, said word "Zombie" somehow doesn't even exist here, which made Azariah wonder peculiarly. The English Dub of the Highschool of the Dead anime referred to the zombies as "Zombies", but the original Japanese oddly doesn't do that. The deceased Igou Hisashi, an old friend of Takashi's, was the one who first coined the term "Them", as he said that they could no longer be considered human anymore.
Well, that part is obvious, but is that really it? Just an alternative word that's used to refer to Zombies? Either way, Azariah would quietly have to continuously ponder this minor detail. It felt like one hint. One key. To unlock the secrets behind the madness of this world.
Now, about weapons? Azariah doesn't have actual weapons. He only has a rosary. His pocket Bible was with Asia. He was effectively armless.
"...I don't suppose you have any firearms on you, Frenda?" Azariah asked, humbly yet cautiously. While he doesn't actually know how to use them, it's better to have something to defend oneself here.
"Nope," Frenda muttered softly. "I know how to use them, but it's not really my style. Mugino's the one who does much of the shooting."
Ah, that made sense. Azariah thought quietly. Because he knew that Mugino's ability, Meltdowner, was quite potent to the point of scarily accurate. If not for the Most High, he was more than sure that he would have died when he tried to run from Mugino when she tried to kill him and Frenda.
He glanced at how Takashi's group managed to take the zombies down competently. What really caught his eye was one of the survivors, Saeko Busujima, beautiful figure, dark purple long hair, pretty face, and deadly combatant. Her sword skill was unparalleled as she cut down the heads of multiple targets in a few seconds, at least.
"Rhmm."
Azariah glanced down and saw the familiar dog, Zeke, who looked at him with an awed hum, with a wagging tail. He'd recognize the dog belonging to Alice Maresato, the young girl survivor amongst Takashi's group, the one with the pink hair. He looked a little forward, seeing her just right near a tall, beautiful blonde, which Azariah recognized to be the former school nurse of Takashi's high school, Shizuka Marikawa, the one with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, with a beautiful face and figure. Both of them noticed him, looking at him curiously, while the rest of their comrades were busy dealing with the zombies.
Azariah would try to find some kind of weapon on the ground. But then...
Song End:
Song Begins: SOUL BUSTER - Ayane
"Ka..."
A slurpy echoing sound made Azariah turn immediately back to the northeast. He sees some of the undead, not too far, coming to a sudden halt. The oddity was that they were slowly turning their heads and bodies towards him alone. Their stare became colder, sharper, as if they instinctively recognized him. That shouldn't be possible. Unless...
"...Ka...Kakure...Kirish...itan..." the slurpy sounds of the undead echoed in overtones. They all quietly marched forward, a little quicker than normal, and they were all aiming straight for Azariah.
He narrowed his eyes. This was not good. Since when did the zombies from Highschool of the Dead ever talk like this? This couldn't be normal, especially when they singled him out as a Kakure Kirishitan, a Catholic Christian in line with the Successor of Saint Peter the Apostle. That meant... this was probably like that time in A Certain Magical Index. These weren't the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs), obviously, so he's probably dealing with yet another set of rebel daimonic species, ones that could puppeteer dead bodies. Necromantic daimons, he supposed, which were the same spirits that haunted Israel since the Old Testament, through the forbidden practice of necromancy.
That just confirmed one of his worst fears. There was something here, and it knows who he really is by instinct. The virus could very well be an inverted phenomenon of natural evil, but the possibility of there being a preternatural evil was now more than apparent.
"What the hell?" says Saya with a frown, looking in Azariah's direction in disbelief as she holds her suppressor rifle. "They're... They're locked onto that guy!" As she said so, the other survivors also had their own looks of disbelief.
Azariah had no time to waste. He looked around for any weaponry on the road. Absolutely nothing. Of course, there wouldn't be some convenient plot weapon for a Catholic Christian. He has no choice. He needs to make a run for it. The good news, at least, was that with the undead paying attention to him, it seemed that his comrades and the others were safe for the time being. Though he would still need to find a way to survive this and not get bitten. Would such a virus even affect him, a descendant of Saint Adam and Saint Eve? He isn't really technically sure. Even if he wasn't, blood loss and other natural factors are still possible, so he prefers not to get bitten.
"Frenda, give me one of your bombs," Azariah spoke grimly.
"Huh?" Frenda raised an eyebrow.
"Please?" Azariah spoke urgently.
Frenda quietly drew something out of her skirt, a simple grenade toy, basically. She gave it to him quickly, while he immediately made a run for it.
"Thank you!" Azariah said, while he made a run for it, with a couple or so undead deathly focused on him alone for some reason, ignoring Frenda and Asia. Entire hordes of them, coming out from every direction.
"Azariah-san!" Asia exclaims in worry, widening her emerald eyes as she sees a couple more undead coming out from every direction and gunning for Azariah, with their limping legs.
Takashi and the others were just in absolute disbelief. What. The. Hell.
Frenda was twitching all over her nerves, clenching her fists, her lips looked unamused, seeing that idiot punk literally doing it again. Last time this happened, this was with the BEDs, and her entire world literally watched him play the hero as he purified the BEDs with nothing but his own bare hands and a Saint Benedict's rosary. Now... he's doing it again, playing stupid hero, and getting an entire swarm of undead freaks gunning for him.
"All be told, I'm sick of all of this. There is no way I'm letting you one-up me again and leave me here to just watch like I'm some useless good little girl. You still owe me one hell of an explanation for what you could possibly know about how I died to Mugino originally," Frenda spoke darkly, as she quietly walked faster.
"Ah, Ms. Seivelun!" Asia exclaims in worry, blinking a little as she sees Frenda running after Azariah, which causes Asia to instinctively follow Frenda from behind.
Takashi couldn't even believe what he was seeing. This was new. Since when did Them could run this fast? And what the hell was that all about? Kakure Kirishitan? He was seeing that nineteen-year-old man literally lead Them away, somehow, against all odds. He needed to find out what the hell was going on here, because this was definitely not normal, even for the end of the world.
"...Guys," he said grimly, as everyone looked at him.
"...I'm following him," Takashi said, sprinting immediately with his gun in hand before he could be called back by the other members of his group.
"Grr. Damn it, guess we'd better go and save our leader's ass before he gets all of us killed," Saya sighed with a facepalm.
Azariah couldn't help but compare this very moment of his life to the times when he was playing the Days Gone video game, which is exactly what he is feeling right now. That video game also had a post-apocalyptic setting where, oftentimes in missions, the protagonist is running for his own life. But what made him pay very close attention was the way these zombies of Highschool of the Dead even reacted to his mere presence.
The necromantic daimons kept repeating: "Ka...kure...Kiri...shitan..." with those broken slurry lines from their damaged vocal cords. As he ran, he noticed that he had just attracted an entire horde. About a hundred or so. What to actually do here? Everywhere he runs, he can't even find any kind of weapon to defend himself.
This was getting out of hand. If he somehow managed to survive this, he was going to have to find a way to train himself with firearms. Contrary to popular belief, Catholicism does not equate to pacifism; it is rather about men of GOD fighting for peace, through the Prince of Peace and His Way. If it really meant to defend life as a whole and for the common good, under certain conditions, this would be called the just war theory. Again, this does not equate to condoning war itself. Whenever possible, all possible methods of peace are to be upheld, and the just war theory would always be a last extreme resort. In Azariah's extraordinary circumstances, he's essentially within the pattern where the just war theory is to be applied, in due conscience. It's the same thing with Saint Joan of Arc centuries prior.
"...Saint Joan of Arc, ora pro nobis," Azariah, while running against the tide of the undead, muttered in his breath, a prayer of intercession, to the saint who defied Satan during the Hundred Years War. Because here, this was still the same Satan, only instead of mere men who invade a country unjustly, it's the necromantic daimons puppeteering the zombies of Highschool of the Dead who mocked the Eucharist and the Resurrection by their mere presence and proclaimed the Satanic Law of Cannibalism. Ha-Satanas could not directly kill a true descendant of Saint Adam and Saint Eve, and Azariah was one of these true descendants; that's the limit that the Most High had always imposed. But that didn't mean intermediate causes and rebel middle natures were out of the equation.
And Azariah could hear multiple explosions in the distance. It was probably Frenda, who was using the bombs under her skirt to clear the pathways with precision, like she was hacking through crops. Never let it be said that Frenda isn't dangerous. She may have been turned into a slashed meme by the A Certain Magical Index fandom community, but one could not forget that this woman was a member of the dark side, with a lot of dead bodies under her belt, even possibly innocent people. She was a professional killer, and the only times Azariah could recall where Frenda was way out of her depth entirely were with Level 5s, such as Misaka, Mugino, and Kakine.
Azariah also supposed that Frenda still would want to demand answers from him, about what he really knows about her dying. Not that he could blame her for wanting to know. He is more than willing to tell her about it.
Then, he glances at the abandoned bus that was nearby. He ran in that direction, thinking of an idea that he had just thought about. After sprinting through the bus, he had already released the pin from the grenade that he had placed under the bus, before he decided to book it. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And a massive explosion occurred, which sent multiple zombies to combust and drown in flames.
There were still more incoming zombies. Azariah kept running and trying to find another way to either escape these walking corpses or defend himself, passing through suburban passageways. He could still hear Frenda's bombs exploding from a distance, echoing like a refrain. Then, as he ran, he saw a nearby long knife that looked bloody and discarded. Better than nothing.
Silently, Azariah took the long knife and gripped its handle. He turns around and sees the nearest zombie that drew near.
"Crux sacra sit mihi lux. Non draco sit mihi dux ("May the Holy Cross be my light. May not the Dragon be my guide.")," Azariah quietly prayed the prayers of the Saint Benedict Medal sacramental. This was no magic spell. This was no power-up. This was no automatic problem solver. This was a prayer of trust in the protection of GOD's Providence, as well as a declaration of war against Satan and to forever stand against him.
And he took his first step, and he waved his long knife to try to decapitate the first walking corpse. He did so, slashing through the neckline, with his own will aligned to the Most High. And the walking corpses immediately stopped dead on their tracks, their groans gave way to quiet shrieks.
The corpses, controlled by the necromantic daimons, stared at the boy who had killed one of their comrades and sent him to the Judgment of the Cross. He was not like any of the survivors of this world. Some killed the zombies to survive. Some killed the zombies to release a thrill that had been hiding under them this whole time. Some killed the zombies as an excuse. So many reasons, the necromantic daimons would recognize.
...But this boy?
He's none of that. He just declared war against the entire system that runs this world. Then, even the weather suddenly turned grim, as it cracked with quiet lightning. Rain poured down, covering them all. That didn't belong to them. Someone made Himself known.
"...The...The Most High," says one of the broken corpses, in quiet terror.
Nothing was happening. There were no legions of angels that came down. It was simply the weather that changed course and answered to its Creator alone. For Azariah's prayer, of a child who trusted his Father, reached the latter. The necromantic daimons would recognize this sign. Because it was no obvious sign. No obvious spectacle. Azariah, on the other hand, was completely unaware of the realization of the daimons. His faith was the only thing he knew. That's what made it true for the daimons.
The Most High is here, and He has come for vengeance for all of the dead of this world, through nothing but a will aligned to Him, and a long knife that the will had dedicated to Him, the same way Saint Abel dedicated his offering long, long ago.
Takashi Komuro had seen plenty of things ever since this hell had started. He had seen many classmates die, he had seen many families torn apart, he had seen society collapse to the brink. But he was seeing something he had never seen before.
Firstly, that blonde foreign girl―Frenda―was somehow pulling dolls out of her skirt and burning through several of Them with each explosion that came out from the dolls, causing a grey kind of fumes to spread throughout the atmosphere. Like, how does she keep that many bombs under her?
Secondly... he stops dead in his tracks as his eyes widen, to behold a sight that sent a chill down his spine. Frenda, along with a running Asia Argento, stops dead on their tracks as well, as they saw it.
There he was. Azariah. But he wasn't running like before. With nothing but a long knife, he quietly charges against the undead, the same ones who had tormented this world for far too long, and starts cutting their heads down, like cutting the heads of a hydra. He simply waved his arms, with effort, as he slashed through like he was cutting through weeds. The undead were completely scattering as they tried to even sink their teeth on them, but Azariah dodged each and delivered a precise strike on their heads.
Then, there was the weather, which clasped like thunder, but with a different kind entirely. Its lightning never hit anyone, and yet, that was precisely the point. It wasn't doing anything. It was like it was speaking its own language that made everyone pause entirely. Rain came pouring down upon them, complementing the thunderous roars of the heavens. And every single time, Azariah struck back and defied the ones who had fed against countless innocent―families, societies, and nations―cutting down their heads, just as before when the judge Deborah struck down Sisera in the head,
"...No way," says Takashi's childhood friend, Rei Miyamoto, widening her eyes as she sees Azariah crushing through every large horde that drew near with strikes that felt superhuman, but it wasn't, because nothing extraordinary was happening. It was just Azariah standing his ground, as he dodged and struck back with tenacity, while maintaining a calm, yet grim and defiant expression.
Saeko Busujima couldn't help but pay closer attention as she saw each strike that she saw in Azariah. She was a warrior, trained in the art of the sword, and when she saw Azariah striking back, she wasn't looking at a warrior, because he never felt like that. Rather, she felt like she was sensing...
"...Kami," Saeko muttered softly, in quiet reverence and dread, as she couldn't help but step back, as she held her sword quietly with a grip that grounds her to reality.
The ancient variety of spirits that had long been worshipped by the nation of the Rising Sun. She felt it. Somehow. She couldn't see it with her own naked eyes, but her heart was speaking it. The kami were making their presence known at long last after being silent for so long, but... these kami were answering to Someone else, which she does not know. The invisible kamis gathered like invisible hosts that form ranks, manifesting through the winds, the storm, and everything else. And this young man who drew a long knife, was their way of fighting back directly against the hordes of Them that had fed on the children of Japan for so long since this hell started.
The invisible kami had come to declare vengeance for Japan, under the command of their Unknown LORD.
Takashi would quietly feel the ground shaking somehow. A little tremble, but it was not a violent earthquake. It was creation responding to Someone that no one had ever known. He couldn't help but ask when locking onto Azariah, who slashed through two more undead by the head. "...Who the hell is this guy?"
Asia was looking at all of this with awe and wonder, before she immediately felt a quiet whisper in her heart, something that made her hitched under her breath, widening her eyes.
"...My little daughter."
...It was Him. The One she had seen in the vision of the Harrowing.
"...Help My son, Azariah, and join the battle of Your Father. Do not fear those who consume the flesh, you have the tools that you need, for I Am with you."
Asia could feel it. Her Sacred Gear, Twilight Healing, responded by instinct, but this time, it responded to the True LORD of Hosts, the One who is the Source of all Healing Power. She didn't even know how to fight. However...
"...Thy will be done, Papa," she muttered, clenching her fists, narrowing her eyes in determination. She, who in her former world, had ignorantly been under the banner of a God of the Bible that was never Being Itself, now aligned to the One who was the First Cause of her being.
Then, she sprinted forward, making Frenda notice as she saw Asia running towards the battle. Asia quietly and slowly raised her hands, which sparkled with white energy that came from her own Sacred Gear. What was once used for healing on the defensive was now for the offensive, for healing belongs to the LORD.
She raised her hands, which fired white flames that formed a threefold straight pattern that consumed countless undead, and through it, incinerated the necromantic daimons that lay within the cannibalistic hordes.
Azariah stopped a little and quietly widened his eyes, as it was unexpected to see Asia displaying that kind of power.
Asia didn't pay attention to Azariah and only focused on the scattered infected that were finally noticing her. She muttered with a defiant look. "...This world belongs to my Papa, Panginoong Diyos, and not to your master, Ha-Satanas."
And she summoned a burst of white flames that were dancing from under her feet, and like a swirling twister, sending the multitude of the hordes crashing down on the ground and incinerating them into ashes.
Takashi and the rest of the survivor group had their mouths open in shock and awe.
Azariah... quietly gripped his long knife, understanding instinctively, and never spoke a word as he continued to charge and slash through the undead hordes that were now sporting looks of fear. And he slashed through their necklines, as heads rolled into the floor.
Frenda couldn't help but watch. Really watch. This... This was just like that time in Tokiwadai. Her hands clenched as she held her dolls, gritting her teeth. Her dark side trained instincts were useless to analyze what she was looking at. She doesn't even hear those Filipino songs like before, just seeing with her own two eyes the quiet grit of determination from Azariah, who continues to cut down every undead in sight, while Asia uses her natural power, which Frenda never even realized she had ever since she met that Italian blonde, who incinerated countless zombies like they were crops to be burned for the harvest. And the lightning was dancing unnaturally, like the echoes of an organ piano, that never once struck the undead, but simply conveyed the presence of the Unknown GOD as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
What the hell? First, those blasted Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs), now this? Is this some kind of a fucking joke?
...But her heart turned fearful. Her own guilt was gnawing like the claws of a cat. Just like that time. Her own life and memories present before her, which silently accuse her. Frenda had developed a thrill, so to speak, of enjoying twistedly how she can decide a person's own life and death. It felt thrilling. Or rather, it stemmed from her own immersion of being in the dark side for so long that it became second nature to her.
...And yet, none of that somehow mattered anymore. Ever since she met this punk Azariah, she had been unwittingly dragged with her own limping legs towards something she never expected. Little by little, it broke her. She'd understand if this was pain, or if this was anything that can be done by any human, good or evil, but this is none of the above. She could not rationalize this away. It follows her, never letting her escape. Instead of judgment, she got clarity, her own memories even accusing her silently.
"...I don't get any of this," Frenda muttered with a silent glare at Azariah, who continued to strike against the undead. "...No powers. No boosts. No anything. Just a random object you've got from somewhere, and you'd just... do this? The entire weather somehow follows you around like a lost puppy. What the hell are you?"
A powerless human. Yet, more true than even her. A human who lived under something she and her world never even got. Like, is this some kind of a fucking joke? Everything she ever lived through was a lie within a lie. A human who calls on a Diyos who doesn't conform to anyone's thinking. A human who came from a world where this Diyos rules as Sovereign.
A clap of thunder made Frenda flinch as she glanced upward, and the rain kept dropping down on her face. She looked and saw nothing but the greyish skies, humming lightning, and rain falling. Every drop fell, like it was dew from heaven falling down. Nothing spectacular was happening. It was just the rain. But that was what made Frenda terrified.
"...Diyos..." she muttered, gritting her teeth, trembling.
And she glances at Asia, who cleared a path, her white flames had spread across the asphalt, as countless hordes of walking corpses were burned into chaff. Asia walked with a serious look, as she finally was allowed to wield her Sacred Gear as it was meant to be, for all forms of matter belonged to the ALMIGHTY who made all visible and invisible orders.
Azariah may have been the one who stood first, but Asia, who was not even of Azariah's race, not even a true human like Frenda was, stood her ground and fought with her own natural gifts and powers. Asia knew, as much as Frenda, that she was not a true human, a descendant of Saint Adam and Saint Eve, and yet, that somehow made her more freer, for expectations no longer held her back, she didn't even need to pretend, for she could be just as the LORD made her to be.
Frenda felt like she had severely underestimated this pious Italian nun. Asia barely, if ever, did anything in the last world, and now even she was one-upping Frenda by trusting in this Diyos and declaring war against whatever this Ha-Satanas was.
Frenda tried to move... but she couldn't. Her thoughts continually flow and betray her, as it was simply a natural phenomenon and not divine miracles that spoke against her. She could not even defy it with a laugh.
"...Who..." Even a curse word couldn't be uttered. "...Who really is this Diyos?" Frenda muttered, quietly terrified, holding her dolls.
And Takashi had been quietly watching this in awe, which increased with every moment the raindrops on his face. He slowly glanced at all of the survivors who were with him. Rei Miyamoto. Saeko Busjima. Saya Takagi. Kohta Hirano. Shizuka Marikawa. Alice Maresato. All of them, sporting the same look of awe that spread through their spirits. Even the dog, Zeke, was looking with its back straight, looking at Azariah and Asia's assault with a strange solemn attention.
Takashi didn't even bother asking Saya for an explanation. None of this is explainable by any mile. He glanced at the assault that burned through Them like bread and butter. For what felt like the first time, he felt hope again. His legs did the talking for him, as he runs, making the rest of the survivors notice. This time, they couldn't call out, as their mouths were silenced at the phenomenon that stood before them.
Takashi quietly charged, with gritted teeth. His instincts somehow told him everything. This was it. They've got a clear opening, an actual fighting chance against Them. He didn't know how this was possible, but he'd be damned if he didn't take this opportunity to stick it into these monsters who had torn entire families apart. Questions could wait later. Right now, Them are getting screwed over, and that's all the answers he needed. Takashi struck back, as he smashed the head of one of Them, with the back of his rifle, and fired another on the head of another of Them.
Azariah glanced back and saw Takashi, who walked towards him.
"Oi," Takashi spoke grimly as the rain fell down on to his face, looking at Azariah, who paid attention to him. Asia on the front continued to burn through more of Them as she walked forward with no hurry. "...I don't know who you are, but if you and your group could take these freaks out, count me in on whatever you have."
Azariah simply nodded. "I appreciate the help."
Then, they both faced forward, as the white flames scorched hot against the undead, who moaned in despair and terror.
"No... this... can...not happen... Da...mn...you...Nazarene..." echoed the necromantic daimons who wailed through the broken vocal cords of the undead.
Azariah and Takashi both charged, as one continued to decapitate the heads of snakes, while the other fired with his weapon and crushed the heads of snakes.
Song Ends:
Location: ?
...The first thing that Azariah immediately noticed was... he, Asia Argento, and Frenda Seivelun ended up somewhere.
But that somewhere was littered with a foreboding sense of quiet. Abandoned roads. Broken windows. Discarded objects. Shattered glass. Azariah noticed even a bloody pillow of sorts on the ground, a Pretty Cure pillow, which Azariah would recognize as Cure Black, one of the characters from the Futari wa Pretty Cure franchise.
"...What the hell?" Frenda muttered, looking at the blood smears on the pillow.
Asia herself frowned in concern, speaking quietly, a spiritual warning intuition of sorts. "Something's happened in this world long before we got here."
Azariah glanced at the wall, which had the vandalized words: "END OF THE WORLD! HA-HA-HA~!" painted in emerald tags.
He doesn't truthfully know what narrative world they ended up on, but the signs at least are there for him to recognize. A post-apocalyptic setting of sorts. The atmosphere itself quietly screamed death and its shadow. The question remained, however. What kind of death had reigned in this place long before they got here?
It wasn't safe to be standing around here. Azariah could feel it underneath his bones and flesh. Something lurks within here. Whatever lurked here had already left a trail. This wasn't edgy for the sake of it, it was calculated malice.
He spoke grimly, yet quietly. "...We should probably move out of this street. Keep quiet. Don't speak unless it is absolutely necessary."
Frenda didn't even need to be told twice. This place was already giving her the creeps. She would have taken this opportunity to ask about what Azariah even knew about her original fate, but considering the circumstances, she'd hold it off. Not to mention, Frenda could smell death when she'd see it. She's seen it far too much in her line of work on the dark side.
Asia simply nodded quietly, with no further comment.
They quietly took a walk, but kept it slow. They didn't rush. For all they knew, just one sound was more than enough to trigger the instincts of whatever caused this. Azariah glanced around, looking for any contextual clues. More broken windows. More broken cars. Some cars looked like they had even exploded in a seemingly orchestrated accident, running over each other. Some had blood-smeared remains due to some kind of hit-and-run. Azariah logically could conjecture that the civilians of this world may have been hitting something, or trying to hit something.
Azariah couldn't help but be reminded of the various zombie movies that he and his best friend Richard used to watch. The patterns were all there. But he still wasn't sure if this was a world of zombies. He still has yet to fully identify who is the suspect threat.
They kept walking for around thirty minutes. Still nothing. No sign of life anywhere. They eventually realized that this was a city of sorts, due to the infrastructure of ruined buildings that were taller than the usual fifth or tenth floors. And...
...They heard gunshots echoing across the distance.
"Gunshots?" Frenda narrowed her eyes, looking towards her left, her ears twitching.
"...We follow where it leads," Azariah muttered softly.
Normally, following the sound trail of bullets was a bad idea, but considering that this is a post-apocalyptic setting, they have extremely limited options. They couldn't just stay out in the open. They quietly run for it, but still maintain caution as they run through the ruins. Eventually, they were at a crossroads intersection. They were somewhere around a police station, and...
"...?!" Azariah, and the two girls, widened their eyes.
Right when they crossed the road, they encountered a group of survivors. For Asia and Frenda, they didn't know who these people were, but for Azariah, he would definitely slowly recognize them. The said survivors that they encountered were just as surprised to find them, along with a cute puppy dog who tilted his head, and didn't bark, but rather felt subdued in awe, specifically at Azariah for some reason. Both groups stopped.
"What the hell?" says one pink-haired twin tail among the other group, by the name of Saya Takagi, looking surprised.
Thankfully, nobody in the other group fired. They were just surprised to see Azariah and the two other girls with them.
...Oh no. Azariah thought in a grim horror. This is the one cancelled manga that he read a while back with Richard.
Highschool of the Dead.
Where to start with such a world? The basic gist of that world's story essentially boils down to a zombie outbreak that occurred all throughout the world in just one day. Nobody actually knew why. It was never explained how the outbreak started. That was essentially the problem Azariah would have to deal with. Nothing was truthfully a random chance, not to Azariah, who could feel the instinctive death within the air. Either someone or something caused this. If this were a natural phenomenon local to this world, there could potentially be an anti-viral that one could inject. If this weren't a natural phenomenon, that's an even bigger issue. There are too many unknowns here.
At the very least, he recognizes the group of survivors that they ran into. Leading this survivor group was none other than Takashi Komuro, who used to be a second-year high school student, with black hair, brown eyes, and a decently handsome face, which sported a look of weariness, which Azariah couldn't blame him for, not with the kind of world High School of the Dead was.
He recalled Richard one time comparing this world to Walking Dead, only making it more anime-like and removing much of the padding of psychological drama, and replacing it with more action-adventure.
He recognizes all of the survivor group. The gang's all here. But the only problem is, where exactly in the timeline of High School of the Dead are they in? The manga itself was cancelled after Volume 7, which was around the time the gang headed to the police station, where one of the survivors, Rei Miyamoto, the one with the long brown hair, had been trying to look for her missing father.
Would it be that time, or a little much earlier? He couldn't really tell.
"...Raggh."
Azariah could hear the groaning sound of death that echoed to the northeast. He glanced at the one. No, two. No, three. A few more pale walkers whose eyes looked lifeless.
"...Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Frenda didn't even look surprised, looking a little exasperated. She had seen plenty of bioweapon projects in connection with the dark side. A zombie outbreak, honestly, wasn't new for her and was just your typical dark side experiment gone wrong. It was only new in the sense that she's literally walking into a world where the outbreak spread too far before the competent authorities, dark side or otherwise, could put a dent in the undead fodder.
Frenda could just bring out the bombs from under her skirt, but she wasn't stupid enough to try that. If this place were crawling with these things, making more noise would set them off and add more annoying numbers.
Asia, on the other hand, was silent. Instead of feeling frightened, she was grim yet solemn. She, who had seen the True Christ, who is her Father, was no longer fearful of anything. What actually did worried her was the sheer desecration of the natural order laid before her eyes, a mockery of her Father's creation, in lifeless walkers that do not have a soul, yet whose natural evils make them move like puppets.
The other group of survivors, led by Takashi got their weapons ready. Azariah could see the other male survivor, Kohta Hirano, aiming his suppressor rifle steadily. Good choice. No need to go loud. Stealth was the primary option for this kind of outbreak, since these things have quite the super hearing.
"Takashi," says Rei, who held out her own suppressor rifle, with a cautious tone.
"...Yeah, I know," says Takashi, who glanced cautiously at Azariah and the two women with him.
What to do here? Azariah has no weapons. Asia at least has her Sacred Gear, Twilight Healing, which potentially means she'd be immune to the zombie virus of this world, unless said zombie virus works a little differently. Frenda at least has her multiple caches of toy bombs that she somehow hides under her skirt. Azariah was curious about that part. He figured that Academy City had developed hammerspace for such things that, while it looked miraculous, could actually be explained scientifically.
Azariah glanced upward at the skies. It was dark, with no sunlight. The winds were blowing coldly. Was it typhoon season? He hoped not. The undead were bad enough, but with the weather getting involved, he's going to have to deal with another enemy, which is nature itself. When it comes to an actual zombie outbreak, it's not really as easy to survive as it sounds. You'd have to worry about what type of food or water you'd be consuming. You'd have to worry about personal hygiene. You'd have to worry about resupplying every now and then in case supplies almost run out. Among other factors.
Never mind the zombies. If the zombies won't get you, Mother Nature will.
Azariah had to wonder. Considering a zombie apocalypse had occurred, what exactly happened to this world's Catholic Church? It wasn't really dealt with in the series proper, but considering that on the surface, it seems like a modern world before the hell of the outbreak took over, it wouldn't be out of place to say the denominations and sects of Christianity must have existed here. Would this world actually have a legitimate Catholic Church compared to High School DxD and A Certain Magical Index?
Azariah has no idea. He genuinely hoped so, but he also maintained a discerning level of caution. Even a zombie outbreak cannot break the continuity of the Catholic Church. Nothing could. If the Catholic Church of this world had been so thoroughly wiped out in this outbreak for some reason, then it's proof that this cannot be the Catholic Church where Azariah is a member of. Hence, it's a world where, without the Sacraments, natural evils were allowed to go further than they should, case in point, a zombie outbreak.
People in the modern day, when thinking of zombie outbreaks, never actually stop to consider... what actually happens to a world that has a zombie outbreak, but the Catholic Church is still there? It was quite strange how nobody thought of that. Once the pieces fall into place and you take the Church into account, then you get the real context of the framework of the world. You can now tell if this world was compromised from the start, or if it wasn't compromised. Only two ways. No way to go. Either the Catholic Church really is the Catholic Church that is connected to the original Alpha Point, which is Christ Himself, from the Incarnation up to the Ascension, or... or it isn't, and is simply the Church only in name and appearance. But no Pope. No Sacraments. No Mary.
Highschool of the Dead never mentioned any of this. You could chalk it up to secular reasons, but it's a hint at least. There wouldn't be a zombie outbreak if there were a Catholic Church here.
Takashi and his group were already engaging the undead, or "Them.", as they and other inhabitants of this world seem to call the zombies here. Why "Them" as a term? Azariah may be overthinking things just with one random naming sequence, but why would generally all of the survivors call these things "Them" and not the regular word "Zombie"? Unless, of course, said word "Zombie" somehow doesn't even exist here, which made Azariah wonder peculiarly. The English Dub of the Highschool of the Dead anime referred to the zombies as "Zombies", but the original Japanese oddly doesn't do that. The deceased Igou Hisashi, an old friend of Takashi's, was the one who first coined the term "Them", as he said that they could no longer be considered human anymore.
Well, that part is obvious, but is that really it? Just an alternative word that's used to refer to Zombies? Either way, Azariah would quietly have to continuously ponder this minor detail. It felt like one hint. One key. To unlock the secrets behind the madness of this world.
Now, about weapons? Azariah doesn't have actual weapons. He only has a rosary. His pocket Bible was with Asia. He was effectively armless.
"...I don't suppose you have any firearms on you, Frenda?" Azariah asked, humbly yet cautiously. While he doesn't actually know how to use them, it's better to have something to defend oneself here.
"Nope," Frenda muttered softly. "I know how to use them, but it's not really my style. Mugino's the one who does much of the shooting."
Ah, that made sense. Azariah thought quietly. Because he knew that Mugino's ability, Meltdowner, was quite potent to the point of scarily accurate. If not for the Most High, he was more than sure that he would have died when he tried to run from Mugino when she tried to kill him and Frenda.
He glanced at how Takashi's group managed to take the zombies down competently. What really caught his eye was one of the survivors, Saeko Busujima, beautiful figure, dark purple long hair, pretty face, and deadly combatant. Her sword skill was unparalleled as she cut down the heads of multiple targets in a few seconds, at least.
"Rhmm."
Azariah glanced down and saw the familiar dog, Zeke, who looked at him with an awed hum, with a wagging tail. He'd recognize the dog belonging to Alice Maresato, the young girl survivor amongst Takashi's group, the one with the pink hair. He looked a little forward, seeing her just right near a tall, beautiful blonde, which Azariah recognized to be the former school nurse of Takashi's high school, Shizuka Marikawa, the one with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, with a beautiful face and figure. Both of them noticed him, looking at him curiously, while the rest of their comrades were busy dealing with the zombies.
Azariah would try to find some kind of weapon on the ground. But then...
Song End:
Song Begins: SOUL BUSTER - Ayane
"Ka..."
A slurpy echoing sound made Azariah turn immediately back to the northeast. He sees some of the undead, not too far, coming to a sudden halt. The oddity was that they were slowly turning their heads and bodies towards him alone. Their stare became colder, sharper, as if they instinctively recognized him. That shouldn't be possible. Unless...
"...Ka...Kakure...Kirish...itan..." the slurpy sounds of the undead echoed in overtones. They all quietly marched forward, a little quicker than normal, and they were all aiming straight for Azariah.
He narrowed his eyes. This was not good. Since when did the zombies from Highschool of the Dead ever talk like this? This couldn't be normal, especially when they singled him out as a Kakure Kirishitan, a Catholic Christian in line with the Successor of Saint Peter the Apostle. That meant... this was probably like that time in A Certain Magical Index. These weren't the Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs), obviously, so he's probably dealing with yet another set of rebel daimonic species, ones that could puppeteer dead bodies. Necromantic daimons, he supposed, which were the same spirits that haunted Israel since the Old Testament, through the forbidden practice of necromancy.
That just confirmed one of his worst fears. There was something here, and it knows who he really is by instinct. The virus could very well be an inverted phenomenon of natural evil, but the possibility of there being a preternatural evil was now more than apparent.
"What the hell?" says Saya with a frown, looking in Azariah's direction in disbelief as she holds her suppressor rifle. "They're... They're locked onto that guy!" As she said so, the other survivors also had their own looks of disbelief.
Azariah had no time to waste. He looked around for any weaponry on the road. Absolutely nothing. Of course, there wouldn't be some convenient plot weapon for a Catholic Christian. He has no choice. He needs to make a run for it. The good news, at least, was that with the undead paying attention to him, it seemed that his comrades and the others were safe for the time being. Though he would still need to find a way to survive this and not get bitten. Would such a virus even affect him, a descendant of Saint Adam and Saint Eve? He isn't really technically sure. Even if he wasn't, blood loss and other natural factors are still possible, so he prefers not to get bitten.
"Frenda, give me one of your bombs," Azariah spoke grimly.
"Huh?" Frenda raised an eyebrow.
"Please?" Azariah spoke urgently.
Frenda quietly drew something out of her skirt, a simple grenade toy, basically. She gave it to him quickly, while he immediately made a run for it.
"Thank you!" Azariah said, while he made a run for it, with a couple or so undead deathly focused on him alone for some reason, ignoring Frenda and Asia. Entire hordes of them, coming out from every direction.
"Azariah-san!" Asia exclaims in worry, widening her emerald eyes as she sees a couple more undead coming out from every direction and gunning for Azariah, with their limping legs.
Takashi and the others were just in absolute disbelief. What. The. Hell.
Frenda was twitching all over her nerves, clenching her fists, her lips looked unamused, seeing that idiot punk literally doing it again. Last time this happened, this was with the BEDs, and her entire world literally watched him play the hero as he purified the BEDs with nothing but his own bare hands and a Saint Benedict's rosary. Now... he's doing it again, playing stupid hero, and getting an entire swarm of undead freaks gunning for him.
"All be told, I'm sick of all of this. There is no way I'm letting you one-up me again and leave me here to just watch like I'm some useless good little girl. You still owe me one hell of an explanation for what you could possibly know about how I died to Mugino originally," Frenda spoke darkly, as she quietly walked faster.
"Ah, Ms. Seivelun!" Asia exclaims in worry, blinking a little as she sees Frenda running after Azariah, which causes Asia to instinctively follow Frenda from behind.
Takashi couldn't even believe what he was seeing. This was new. Since when did Them could run this fast? And what the hell was that all about? Kakure Kirishitan? He was seeing that nineteen-year-old man literally lead Them away, somehow, against all odds. He needed to find out what the hell was going on here, because this was definitely not normal, even for the end of the world.
"...Guys," he said grimly, as everyone looked at him.
"...I'm following him," Takashi said, sprinting immediately with his gun in hand before he could be called back by the other members of his group.
"Grr. Damn it, guess we'd better go and save our leader's ass before he gets all of us killed," Saya sighed with a facepalm.
Azariah couldn't help but compare this very moment of his life to the times when he was playing the Days Gone video game, which is exactly what he is feeling right now. That video game also had a post-apocalyptic setting where, oftentimes in missions, the protagonist is running for his own life. But what made him pay very close attention was the way these zombies of Highschool of the Dead even reacted to his mere presence.
The necromantic daimons kept repeating: "Ka...kure...Kiri...shitan..." with those broken slurry lines from their damaged vocal cords. As he ran, he noticed that he had just attracted an entire horde. About a hundred or so. What to actually do here? Everywhere he runs, he can't even find any kind of weapon to defend himself.
This was getting out of hand. If he somehow managed to survive this, he was going to have to find a way to train himself with firearms. Contrary to popular belief, Catholicism does not equate to pacifism; it is rather about men of GOD fighting for peace, through the Prince of Peace and His Way. If it really meant to defend life as a whole and for the common good, under certain conditions, this would be called the just war theory. Again, this does not equate to condoning war itself. Whenever possible, all possible methods of peace are to be upheld, and the just war theory would always be a last extreme resort. In Azariah's extraordinary circumstances, he's essentially within the pattern where the just war theory is to be applied, in due conscience. It's the same thing with Saint Joan of Arc centuries prior.
"...Saint Joan of Arc, ora pro nobis," Azariah, while running against the tide of the undead, muttered in his breath, a prayer of intercession, to the saint who defied Satan during the Hundred Years War. Because here, this was still the same Satan, only instead of mere men who invade a country unjustly, it's the necromantic daimons puppeteering the zombies of Highschool of the Dead who mocked the Eucharist and the Resurrection by their mere presence and proclaimed the Satanic Law of Cannibalism. Ha-Satanas could not directly kill a true descendant of Saint Adam and Saint Eve, and Azariah was one of these true descendants; that's the limit that the Most High had always imposed. But that didn't mean intermediate causes and rebel middle natures were out of the equation.
And Azariah could hear multiple explosions in the distance. It was probably Frenda, who was using the bombs under her skirt to clear the pathways with precision, like she was hacking through crops. Never let it be said that Frenda isn't dangerous. She may have been turned into a slashed meme by the A Certain Magical Index fandom community, but one could not forget that this woman was a member of the dark side, with a lot of dead bodies under her belt, even possibly innocent people. She was a professional killer, and the only times Azariah could recall where Frenda was way out of her depth entirely were with Level 5s, such as Misaka, Mugino, and Kakine.
Azariah also supposed that Frenda still would want to demand answers from him, about what he really knows about her dying. Not that he could blame her for wanting to know. He is more than willing to tell her about it.
Then, he glances at the abandoned bus that was nearby. He ran in that direction, thinking of an idea that he had just thought about. After sprinting through the bus, he had already released the pin from the grenade that he had placed under the bus, before he decided to book it. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And a massive explosion occurred, which sent multiple zombies to combust and drown in flames.
There were still more incoming zombies. Azariah kept running and trying to find another way to either escape these walking corpses or defend himself, passing through suburban passageways. He could still hear Frenda's bombs exploding from a distance, echoing like a refrain. Then, as he ran, he saw a nearby long knife that looked bloody and discarded. Better than nothing.
Silently, Azariah took the long knife and gripped its handle. He turns around and sees the nearest zombie that drew near.
"Crux sacra sit mihi lux. Non draco sit mihi dux ("May the Holy Cross be my light. May not the Dragon be my guide.")," Azariah quietly prayed the prayers of the Saint Benedict Medal sacramental. This was no magic spell. This was no power-up. This was no automatic problem solver. This was a prayer of trust in the protection of GOD's Providence, as well as a declaration of war against Satan and to forever stand against him.
And he took his first step, and he waved his long knife to try to decapitate the first walking corpse. He did so, slashing through the neckline, with his own will aligned to the Most High. And the walking corpses immediately stopped dead on their tracks, their groans gave way to quiet shrieks.
The corpses, controlled by the necromantic daimons, stared at the boy who had killed one of their comrades and sent him to the Judgment of the Cross. He was not like any of the survivors of this world. Some killed the zombies to survive. Some killed the zombies to release a thrill that had been hiding under them this whole time. Some killed the zombies as an excuse. So many reasons, the necromantic daimons would recognize.
...But this boy?
He's none of that. He just declared war against the entire system that runs this world. Then, even the weather suddenly turned grim, as it cracked with quiet lightning. Rain poured down, covering them all. That didn't belong to them. Someone made Himself known.
"...The...The Most High," says one of the broken corpses, in quiet terror.
Nothing was happening. There were no legions of angels that came down. It was simply the weather that changed course and answered to its Creator alone. For Azariah's prayer, of a child who trusted his Father, reached the latter. The necromantic daimons would recognize this sign. Because it was no obvious sign. No obvious spectacle. Azariah, on the other hand, was completely unaware of the realization of the daimons. His faith was the only thing he knew. That's what made it true for the daimons.
The Most High is here, and He has come for vengeance for all of the dead of this world, through nothing but a will aligned to Him, and a long knife that the will had dedicated to Him, the same way Saint Abel dedicated his offering long, long ago.
Takashi Komuro had seen plenty of things ever since this hell had started. He had seen many classmates die, he had seen many families torn apart, he had seen society collapse to the brink. But he was seeing something he had never seen before.
Firstly, that blonde foreign girl―Frenda―was somehow pulling dolls out of her skirt and burning through several of Them with each explosion that came out from the dolls, causing a grey kind of fumes to spread throughout the atmosphere. Like, how does she keep that many bombs under her?
Secondly... he stops dead in his tracks as his eyes widen, to behold a sight that sent a chill down his spine. Frenda, along with a running Asia Argento, stops dead on their tracks as well, as they saw it.
There he was. Azariah. But he wasn't running like before. With nothing but a long knife, he quietly charges against the undead, the same ones who had tormented this world for far too long, and starts cutting their heads down, like cutting the heads of a hydra. He simply waved his arms, with effort, as he slashed through like he was cutting through weeds. The undead were completely scattering as they tried to even sink their teeth on them, but Azariah dodged each and delivered a precise strike on their heads.
Then, there was the weather, which clasped like thunder, but with a different kind entirely. Its lightning never hit anyone, and yet, that was precisely the point. It wasn't doing anything. It was like it was speaking its own language that made everyone pause entirely. Rain came pouring down upon them, complementing the thunderous roars of the heavens. And every single time, Azariah struck back and defied the ones who had fed against countless innocent―families, societies, and nations―cutting down their heads, just as before when the judge Deborah struck down Sisera in the head,
"...No way," says Takashi's childhood friend, Rei Miyamoto, widening her eyes as she sees Azariah crushing through every large horde that drew near with strikes that felt superhuman, but it wasn't, because nothing extraordinary was happening. It was just Azariah standing his ground, as he dodged and struck back with tenacity, while maintaining a calm, yet grim and defiant expression.
Saeko Busujima couldn't help but pay closer attention as she saw each strike that she saw in Azariah. She was a warrior, trained in the art of the sword, and when she saw Azariah striking back, she wasn't looking at a warrior, because he never felt like that. Rather, she felt like she was sensing...
"...Kami," Saeko muttered softly, in quiet reverence and dread, as she couldn't help but step back, as she held her sword quietly with a grip that grounds her to reality.
The ancient variety of spirits that had long been worshipped by the nation of the Rising Sun. She felt it. Somehow. She couldn't see it with her own naked eyes, but her heart was speaking it. The kami were making their presence known at long last after being silent for so long, but... these kami were answering to Someone else, which she does not know. The invisible kamis gathered like invisible hosts that form ranks, manifesting through the winds, the storm, and everything else. And this young man who drew a long knife, was their way of fighting back directly against the hordes of Them that had fed on the children of Japan for so long since this hell started.
The invisible kami had come to declare vengeance for Japan, under the command of their Unknown LORD.
Takashi would quietly feel the ground shaking somehow. A little tremble, but it was not a violent earthquake. It was creation responding to Someone that no one had ever known. He couldn't help but ask when locking onto Azariah, who slashed through two more undead by the head. "...Who the hell is this guy?"
Asia was looking at all of this with awe and wonder, before she immediately felt a quiet whisper in her heart, something that made her hitched under her breath, widening her eyes.
"...My little daughter."
...It was Him. The One she had seen in the vision of the Harrowing.
"...Help My son, Azariah, and join the battle of Your Father. Do not fear those who consume the flesh, you have the tools that you need, for I Am with you."
Asia could feel it. Her Sacred Gear, Twilight Healing, responded by instinct, but this time, it responded to the True LORD of Hosts, the One who is the Source of all Healing Power. She didn't even know how to fight. However...
"...Thy will be done, Papa," she muttered, clenching her fists, narrowing her eyes in determination. She, who in her former world, had ignorantly been under the banner of a God of the Bible that was never Being Itself, now aligned to the One who was the First Cause of her being.
Then, she sprinted forward, making Frenda notice as she saw Asia running towards the battle. Asia quietly and slowly raised her hands, which sparkled with white energy that came from her own Sacred Gear. What was once used for healing on the defensive was now for the offensive, for healing belongs to the LORD.
She raised her hands, which fired white flames that formed a threefold straight pattern that consumed countless undead, and through it, incinerated the necromantic daimons that lay within the cannibalistic hordes.
Azariah stopped a little and quietly widened his eyes, as it was unexpected to see Asia displaying that kind of power.
Asia didn't pay attention to Azariah and only focused on the scattered infected that were finally noticing her. She muttered with a defiant look. "...This world belongs to my Papa, Panginoong Diyos, and not to your master, Ha-Satanas."
And she summoned a burst of white flames that were dancing from under her feet, and like a swirling twister, sending the multitude of the hordes crashing down on the ground and incinerating them into ashes.
Takashi and the rest of the survivor group had their mouths open in shock and awe.
Azariah... quietly gripped his long knife, understanding instinctively, and never spoke a word as he continued to charge and slash through the undead hordes that were now sporting looks of fear. And he slashed through their necklines, as heads rolled into the floor.
Frenda couldn't help but watch. Really watch. This... This was just like that time in Tokiwadai. Her hands clenched as she held her dolls, gritting her teeth. Her dark side trained instincts were useless to analyze what she was looking at. She doesn't even hear those Filipino songs like before, just seeing with her own two eyes the quiet grit of determination from Azariah, who continues to cut down every undead in sight, while Asia uses her natural power, which Frenda never even realized she had ever since she met that Italian blonde, who incinerated countless zombies like they were crops to be burned for the harvest. And the lightning was dancing unnaturally, like the echoes of an organ piano, that never once struck the undead, but simply conveyed the presence of the Unknown GOD as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
What the hell? First, those blasted Black-Eyed Daimoniacs (BEDs), now this? Is this some kind of a fucking joke?
...But her heart turned fearful. Her own guilt was gnawing like the claws of a cat. Just like that time. Her own life and memories present before her, which silently accuse her. Frenda had developed a thrill, so to speak, of enjoying twistedly how she can decide a person's own life and death. It felt thrilling. Or rather, it stemmed from her own immersion of being in the dark side for so long that it became second nature to her.
...And yet, none of that somehow mattered anymore. Ever since she met this punk Azariah, she had been unwittingly dragged with her own limping legs towards something she never expected. Little by little, it broke her. She'd understand if this was pain, or if this was anything that can be done by any human, good or evil, but this is none of the above. She could not rationalize this away. It follows her, never letting her escape. Instead of judgment, she got clarity, her own memories even accusing her silently.
"...I don't get any of this," Frenda muttered with a silent glare at Azariah, who continued to strike against the undead. "...No powers. No boosts. No anything. Just a random object you've got from somewhere, and you'd just... do this? The entire weather somehow follows you around like a lost puppy. What the hell are you?"
A powerless human. Yet, more true than even her. A human who lived under something she and her world never even got. Like, is this some kind of a fucking joke? Everything she ever lived through was a lie within a lie. A human who calls on a Diyos who doesn't conform to anyone's thinking. A human who came from a world where this Diyos rules as Sovereign.
A clap of thunder made Frenda flinch as she glanced upward, and the rain kept dropping down on her face. She looked and saw nothing but the greyish skies, humming lightning, and rain falling. Every drop fell, like it was dew from heaven falling down. Nothing spectacular was happening. It was just the rain. But that was what made Frenda terrified.
"...Diyos..." she muttered, gritting her teeth, trembling.
And she glances at Asia, who cleared a path, her white flames had spread across the asphalt, as countless hordes of walking corpses were burned into chaff. Asia walked with a serious look, as she finally was allowed to wield her Sacred Gear as it was meant to be, for all forms of matter belonged to the ALMIGHTY who made all visible and invisible orders.
Azariah may have been the one who stood first, but Asia, who was not even of Azariah's race, not even a true human like Frenda was, stood her ground and fought with her own natural gifts and powers. Asia knew, as much as Frenda, that she was not a true human, a descendant of Saint Adam and Saint Eve, and yet, that somehow made her more freer, for expectations no longer held her back, she didn't even need to pretend, for she could be just as the LORD made her to be.
Frenda felt like she had severely underestimated this pious Italian nun. Asia barely, if ever, did anything in the last world, and now even she was one-upping Frenda by trusting in this Diyos and declaring war against whatever this Ha-Satanas was.
Frenda tried to move... but she couldn't. Her thoughts continually flow and betray her, as it was simply a natural phenomenon and not divine miracles that spoke against her. She could not even defy it with a laugh.
"...Who..." Even a curse word couldn't be uttered. "...Who really is this Diyos?" Frenda muttered, quietly terrified, holding her dolls.
And Takashi had been quietly watching this in awe, which increased with every moment the raindrops on his face. He slowly glanced at all of the survivors who were with him. Rei Miyamoto. Saeko Busjima. Saya Takagi. Kohta Hirano. Shizuka Marikawa. Alice Maresato. All of them, sporting the same look of awe that spread through their spirits. Even the dog, Zeke, was looking with its back straight, looking at Azariah and Asia's assault with a strange solemn attention.
Takashi didn't even bother asking Saya for an explanation. None of this is explainable by any mile. He glanced at the assault that burned through Them like bread and butter. For what felt like the first time, he felt hope again. His legs did the talking for him, as he runs, making the rest of the survivors notice. This time, they couldn't call out, as their mouths were silenced at the phenomenon that stood before them.
Takashi quietly charged, with gritted teeth. His instincts somehow told him everything. This was it. They've got a clear opening, an actual fighting chance against Them. He didn't know how this was possible, but he'd be damned if he didn't take this opportunity to stick it into these monsters who had torn entire families apart. Questions could wait later. Right now, Them are getting screwed over, and that's all the answers he needed. Takashi struck back, as he smashed the head of one of Them, with the back of his rifle, and fired another on the head of another of Them.
Azariah glanced back and saw Takashi, who walked towards him.
"Oi," Takashi spoke grimly as the rain fell down on to his face, looking at Azariah, who paid attention to him. Asia on the front continued to burn through more of Them as she walked forward with no hurry. "...I don't know who you are, but if you and your group could take these freaks out, count me in on whatever you have."
Azariah simply nodded. "I appreciate the help."
Then, they both faced forward, as the white flames scorched hot against the undead, who moaned in despair and terror.
"No... this... can...not happen... Da...mn...you...Nazarene..." echoed the necromantic daimons who wailed through the broken vocal cords of the undead.
Azariah and Takashi both charged, as one continued to decapitate the heads of snakes, while the other fired with his weapon and crushed the heads of snakes.
Song Ends:
Chapter 15 - Azariah's Earth
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Location: Azariah's Earth
...It was one quiet hour. 12:00 noon had struck across the lands of Italy, and most especially within the Vatican. In bygone times, this was when there were countless tourists and pilgrims coming and going, like it was any other day. Everybody had their own reasons why they came here. To see the cultures that were built upon the arts and crafts of the greatest of the Greco-Roman and Renaissance thinkers, many of which happen to coincide with basilicas and churches.
But this was no normal day. Countless crowds of humans were reduced to silence and awe as they could never dare utter a word. For strange creatures of different shapes and sizes were walking amongst them. There were shapes of floating craft that defy current physics, which quietly zoomed in formation, forming a Chi-Rho with an Alpha on the left and an Omega on the right.
"Kordero ng Diyos na nag-aalis ng mga kasalanan ng sanlibutan.
Maawa ka sa amin.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.)"
The ones who sang, first in Tagalog, were the eightfold winged humanoids, tall in stature, hovering across the Vatican and the rooftops of its various churches, wearing Spartan armor that held the same symbols of Chi-Rho with an Alpha on the left and an Omega on the right. If one called them angels, they were right and wrong. Wrong, because these are not the first creatures that predate all of the invisible and visible orders. Right, because they were one of countless messenger species of their LORD, who by His Word, created them in variety.
For they were the Amorians, who served under the protogenoi steward whom the Greeks called Eros and whom the Romans called Cupid. The steward and the Amorian Hosts under him were called to reflect the variety and diversity of Love. One cannot count the numbers of these Amorians, for their numbers exceed even all of the stars of Creation.
They lifted their swords high as they sang a love song in a language that was not of Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, nor any of the languages of the West and East, nor the languages of most Asian countries, except for one, a nation that had always been faithful to its LORD, and whom its language served as a sign of humility. For who in the modern age cares if the songs of the LORD is sung in the familiar protocol? Almost no one. It would not incite them any more than any secular song.
But as Saint Isaiah the Prophet had once said: "Whom will he teach knowledge, and to whom will he explain the message? Those who are weaned from the milk, those taken from the breast? For it is precept upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line, here a little, there a little. Nay, but by men of strange lips and with an alien tongue the Lord will speak to this people, to whom he has said, "This is rest; give rest to the weary; and this is repose"; yet they would not hear. 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."
Then, the Amorites sang in Cebuano.
"Kordero sa Diyos nga nagawagtang sa mga sala sa kalibutan.
Kaloy-i kami.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.)"
Countless draconic species, flew and landed across the rooftops, as they flapped their wings in glory for the LORD who made them. Their horns spoke with authority. Their eyes glowed like fire, for their eyes would behold and stand in the face of a Mystery they had always watched in silence. Countless daemon species were seen, with a variety of shapes and colors, finally visible for all to see, who stood ready and watched. And many more strange creatures passed through out of the invisible veils and came out of respect for who is to come forth from the balcony.
Countless Homo Tempus Clonizo, they who resembled the faces of the clones of a certain franchise speaking of a galaxy far, far away, they of whom that modern myth had unknowingly been pointing too, with their blood red color markings under their armor which bore the Passion of Christ, bearing the symbols of YHWH, the Chi-Rho with Alpha and Omega, and the Most Sacred Heart, and their AK-47-shaped rifles held on their shoulders.
And then, as if to remove all doubt, the Amorites sang the sacred language of Holy Church, which was Latin, as if emphasizing, this is the same LORD, and all languages belong to Him:
"Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Grant us peace. Grant us peace. Grant us peace.)"
And all of the strange creatures and wild beasts look up immediately towards the balcony, where there, amongst the trembling and bewildered cardinals who never expected this kind of gathering, there now walked on the central floor...
...The current Holy Father.
Pope Apollos.
A humble cardinal who came from the Americas and had done missionary work in the past. His blue eyes were quiet and contemplative. His footsteps measured in prayer. The singing of the Amorites in Latin sang to complement the arrival of the Rock of the Church under the Law of the Sovereign King, and the loyal creatures recognized that authority, which is non-negotiable. The Vicar of Christ was greater than any temporal power, for it was the mark of the One who refused to abandon all of His creatures even after His Ascension. It was one of the few things that Ha-Satanas in all his power can never perfectly imitate, no matter even if he sends Anti-Popes, for this was a Promise of the Most Sacred Heart for His people.
For some reason, and this was the thought of most of the cardinals and bishops present, the Holy Father didn't even look surprised at the sight of these strange creatures. Did... Did he know this whole time?
The pope solemnly looked at all of the strange creatures before him, and he quietly raised his right hand to make the Sign of the Cross, blessing all those gathered, even the strangest of creatures who attended an Angelus address. And the blessing of the Pope made the Amorites sing in tears, flapping their wings as they raised their swords even more.
"Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Grant us peace. Grant us peace. Grant us peace.)"
The humans on the ground were shaken, trembling to the core, as they heard the song. As they see with their own eyes, the countless daimon species and their kings kneeling immediately. As they see the dragons roar with the groanings of desiring their LORD with their burning hearts. And many more non-humans gestured in reverence, more than even any churchgoer, putting even the pious to shame. For they were not human nor angel, and yet, they acknowledge the Sovereign LORD of Hosts who is Love and Mercy.
And as for the rest of the world's leaders, they couldn't help but watch, in shock and awe. An unthinkable event. Not the end of the world. Not a new utopian encounter. But simply the veil finally tearing off, for Earth was ready to meet its unknown brothers and sisters again.
Quietly, as the strange creatures respectfully ceased their tongues, the pope began the Angelus prayer first and foremost for this special occasion, in customary Latin. When he pronounces the first phrase: "The Angel of the LORD declared unto Mary." and the strange creatures responded solemnly in their own tongues: "And she conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit." And this went on for the rest of the prayers.
The majority of the poor humans had no idea how to make sense of this. They couldn't even utter a word. They were watching in real time beings who acknowledged the Judeo-Christian GOD just as humans do. How...? How would these beings know Him?
And after the finishing of the Angelus prayer, the pope quietly addressed all of mankind throughout the world who watched the mysteries unfold before them with a solemn expression.
"Dear brothers and sisters in the LORD," says the pope, which made the collective entirety of mankind feel their breath hitched. "Saint Paul once said in his letter to the Colossians that, "For in Him were created all things in the heavens and on the earth, things visible and things invisible.". He also said in his letter to the Philippians, "that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend of those in heaven, on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father.".
All of the strange creatures were bowing their heads quietly when the Name of their LORD was mentioned. The armed imperial stormtroopers, the Homo Tempus Clonizo, stood in strict attention for their Christos Mand'alor, who is the One True Emperor of All Nations.
"Now, you see before your very eyes, other creatures that most of you have never known of before. But I tell you, this is not a new thing. It had always been so," the pope spoke softly.
The world leaders who had been watching were bewildered and concerned, looking at one another wherever they were around the globe. The President of the United States, Howard Nicholson, was watching along with his staff, sharing the same expressions.
"You may ask, but Holy Father, how can you say this is not new? This is unprecedented. There had been no evidence of such cases until now. Actually, my brothers and sisters in Christ, while there may not have been too obviously blatant evidence in the physical and empirical domains, the Church Fathers have never been lacking in their thoughts and in their accounts, for find any Church Father, and he would explain to you of things that would make one reconsider the position and mindset of the ancients. I can only recall, for example, a story recounted by Saint Jerome, the Church Father who gave us the Vulgate, when he mentioned in the Life of Saint Paul the Hermit, that Saint Anthony once came face to face with non-human creatures, firstly a centaur, and then a faun.
The faun himself stated thus: "I am a mortal being and one of those inhabitants of the desert whom the Gentiles deluded by various forms of error worship under the names of Fauns, Satyrs, and Incubi. I am sent to represent my tribe. We pray you in our behalf to entreat the favour of your Lord and ours, who, we have learned, came once to save the world, and 'whose sound has gone forth into all the earth.'."
The children and young teens around the world blinked a little as they watched this, whether in the heart of the event or on their various social media platforms. Surprise was the common expression on their faces. The thought of, "Wait, that actually happened?", passed through them like the wind.
"Thus, I would encourage and invite you all to thoroughly study the patristics and the scholastics in a new light, all of them. This was something that my late predecessor Saint Benedict XVI had often encouraged during his lifetime, even before he was pope. In the same way, I follow my predecessor, and urge you all, look back at all of their writings as they said it themselves, submit all of your opinions to Our Lord Jesus Christ that He may purify them and, through the Holy Spirit, lead you into the truth that it may be of service to the Church and to all creatures under the Kingdom of God.
And so, we pray to the Virgin Mary, the Queen-Mother, who said Yes to the word of the Archangel Gabriel. She who knew the Scriptures more than any Jew, for it was She who was taught by Our LORD Himself, let it be She who now guides us all to understand this new mystery set before us, of whom my predecessor Saint John Paul II had once said, that they are children of GOD as we are."
And after the Pope spoke, a few moments later, the Amorites across the skies and on the rooftops quietly sang in praise, raising their swords and flapping their eightfold wings.
"Sikapin sa ating pagtulong.
Ipamalita sa buong mundo.
Pag-ibig ng Diyos na siyang sumakop.
Sa bawa't pusong uhaw sa pagsuyo.
(Strive to help us.
Spread the word to the whole world.
God's love that has conquered every heart that thirsts for love.)
'Pagka't ang Diyos natin, Diyos ng pag-ibig
Magmahalan tayo't magtulungan
At kung tayo'y bigo, ay 'wag limutin
Na may Diyos tayong nagmamahal
Diyos ay pag-ibig
('Cause our God is a God of Love.
Let's love each other and help each other.
And if we fail, don't forget that we have a God who loves.
God is love.)
And the countless daimons and their kings especially raised their swords up in the air, offering it to their LORD. The draconic beasts and their kings roared which boasted of the majesty of their LORD. And the countless crafts in the skies formed to a shape of the Most Sacred Heart of their LORD. And many countless voices of many other strange creatures sang along with the Amorites.
And all that most of humanity could do... was stare in awe at the majesty of these creatures who praised their LORD.
...Quietly, Pope Apollos was walking through the halls of the Vatican, accompanied by a couple of the cardinals, most of whom were still bewildered and pondering deeply within their hearts regarding the mystery of these non-human creatures who surround the world and give praise to the Trinity. The Holy Father, as he trods the paths, was greeted quietly and humbly by a few of the Homo Tempus Clonizo, though their color markings differed from those outside, for these men come from a different branch, the 5001st Systems Armed Forces. The color markings held tekhelet blue, burnt orange, and black ashes, yet they carried the same symbols as the rest of their brothers outside, which were the Tetragrammaton (YHWH), the Chi-Rho with Alpha on the left and Omega on the right, and the Most Sacred Heart.
On the side, multiple cameras were rolling, with flashes of white. Gathering by was every news reporter who wanted to record everything about these strange events. The entire planet still reeled over the fact that now they are forced to confront the fact that they were never truthfully alone in the universe, that there were indeed creatures of diversity and of unknown, yet unlike what most modern thoughts had occurred, these creatures worship the Judeo-Christian GOD.
As the cameras rolled, they zoomed in on one of these men who took off his helmet out of respect for the pope. The man's face was revealed. A black trim-cut military hair, yet his face carried a familiarity to anyone who had seen Star Wars. Whispers were across the air, "Oh my God... he really does look like Temuerra Morrison... This is insane...", and other phrases echoed through the halls.
The pope himself never looked surprised, unlike some of the cardinals who walked with him, as they couldn't help but stare at the man who stood before the Pope.
"Your Holiness," the man did not salute. Such military gestures have no place before the Sovereign Pontiff, who exceeds all military protocol. Instead, he bows his head before a Steward of All Monarchs with absolute reverence. He spoke in a language that is eerily similar to English, hence understandable when the world records it with their cameras, with the reporters feeling their mouths turn dry. The rest of the clonizo bowed their heads and followed the example of their superior.
"Ah... Governor-General Tannenburg," the pope greeted the familiar face, smiling quietly. "...How goes my spiritual son from afar?"
His tone was discreet, for he did not wish to reveal the identity of who actually leads all of the imperial clonizo stormtroopers of the Kingdom and Empire of the Most Sacred Eucharistic Heart, which spans all worlds, all metaphysics, all creation, for such an identity belonged to an anointed Great Catholic Monarch who hailed from an Earth different from the pope's, and yet, it had the same Catholic Church. There were not two or three bodies, for there had always been One Mystical Body; the unicity of the Church has always been a truth of the faith which applies to all worlds where there is the Catholic Church.
"The High Governor-General of the Empire is doing well, your Holiness," says Tannenburg with a solemn calm. He said,"high governor-general", and not "high king", for personal discretion. While both terms are true in both cases, he is to remain a mystery for the time being, whom no one needs to know for now, for this world needs to be led gently and not be given too much information all at once when it is not necessary. And it is also in the case of prudence, to prevent people from missing the mark. There is only One Sovereign King, and that is the LORD Himself. The Great Catholic Monarch is merely a servant-shepherd of the temporal order, in the line of Cyrus the Great, as Saint Isaiah the Prophet had said.
"He only asks for your Apostolic Blessing so that he may fulfill the will of Our LORD," Tannenburg said.
And the pope smiled with the twinkling of a spiritual father. He raised his right hand to make a Sign of the Cross, for even distance does not stop a blessing from a Vicar for the child who was crowned by the LORD as Great Catholic Monarch and Last Roman Emperor at the blessed age of fourteen. "May he who is my son in spirit be given this blessing of Almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, come down on him and remain with him forever."
"Amen," says Tannenburg, and the rest of the boys in blue clonizo.
The crowds were both confused and intrigued by this gesture. Wait... what are they talking about? A spiritual son who is called a High Governor-General? And quietly, this spread out across social communications and media. Already, the YouTubers were reacting in shock. What else does the pope know that isn't revealed yet? What spiritual son?
"If it pleases your Holiness, may I humbly ask to bring a report to you in private?" says Tanneburg, speaking with grim urgency.
The pope's smile quietly turns grim, yet smiling nevertheless. "Of course, my son."
And whispers of "Private report?" were echoing across the news media and the world leaders who watched.
"...Private report?" says Vice President Lance Richardson, frowning as he looks at the television screen. "Of what exactly? What exactly would the Pope talk about with someone who... looks like someone straight out of Star Wars?"
"Well, it's important, no doubt, but to bring it up on live news and for all of the media to take notes? It's quite risky..." says the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Edward Furlong, who frowned as well, arms crossed.
President Howard Nicholson would quietly ponder this information before thinking deeply. "...We may be looking at this all wrong."
Everyone of his staff looked at him.
"...We're trying to think like people who are assessing another nation that could potentially affect America's interests. That's the wrong way to go about this. Politics won't save the American people, not this time. We're literally just going to face the facts here, people. We, and every other nation on this planet, are dealing with the literal Kingdom of the ALMIGHTY, whom every President has prayed and invoked since Washington, right here on this Earth, with entire civilizations with technology and capabilities that are too unpredictable to be analyzed by humanity's current scientific means. If that soldier literally brought it up to the Pope in the news about a private report, then something must be going down, and there's no stress of classified info. The pope and this soldier wanted the world to know."
"...But why?" says Nate Heshemyer, the Secretary of Defense with grey hair and a concerned frown. "Pastoral reasons perhaps?"
"At this point, that's more likely the answer," says General Nexton, looking at the television screen. "They're giving the world leaders a hint. Something's about to go down. Or something may have already been going down long before any of this started. No way is any of this a coincidence, especially with these creatures coming out of the woodwork, not bound to any international treaty from any superpower or the UN."
"Which meant something warranted entire sovereign hidden nations under GOD's Kingdom to show up and cover the entire planet with no corner left that did not have any strange creature already being there," President Nicholson spoke grimly, putting his hands near his mouth. "Then there are those imperial stormtroopers, what the news called the Homo Tempus Clonizo. Based on interviews, from the reports of these beings, it seems that they happen to be the same race that helped the ALMIGHTY back when He... died."
The president was quietly pondering the interviews. The so-called Harrowing of Hell. He was a Lutheran of course, in the modern sense, so he may not have taken it too seriously. Until this situation warranted it and he needed to check on it, and had been checking on it. It spoke of Christ Himself coming down across the abode of the dead, whether of the just or of the damned. It was wide-scale, to put an understatement. And if these were one of those beings who participated in that, then... GOD just sent His armed forces, and a commander-in-chief doesn't send His armed forces unless there is ever-present danger.
"...Secretary Marquis," he glanced at the Secretary of State, Leila Marquis, a beautiful black woman with a history of law degrees, with long hair in a ponytail. "You've gotten in line with the Vatican yet?"
"The Cardinal Secretariat of State has received our message, and the Holy Father is more than willing to dialogue with us, but he prefers as well to address all of the world leaders, according to what the cardinal told me," says Secretary Marquis, with a grim expression. "According to the Cardinal Secretariat, it would be wise for America to prepare all of its forces in case of emergency."
Every one of the staff looked at each other with concern.
"...That's...not something a Cardinal Secretariat would normally say," the President spoke cautiously. "Did you ask why?"
"From what he told me, sir... it seems first contact with other worlds that never knew GOD is more likely to occur here," says the Secretary, grimly.
...It was one quiet hour. 12:00 noon had struck across the lands of Italy, and most especially within the Vatican. In bygone times, this was when there were countless tourists and pilgrims coming and going, like it was any other day. Everybody had their own reasons why they came here. To see the cultures that were built upon the arts and crafts of the greatest of the Greco-Roman and Renaissance thinkers, many of which happen to coincide with basilicas and churches.
But this was no normal day. Countless crowds of humans were reduced to silence and awe as they could never dare utter a word. For strange creatures of different shapes and sizes were walking amongst them. There were shapes of floating craft that defy current physics, which quietly zoomed in formation, forming a Chi-Rho with an Alpha on the left and an Omega on the right.
"Kordero ng Diyos na nag-aalis ng mga kasalanan ng sanlibutan.
Maawa ka sa amin.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.)"
The ones who sang, first in Tagalog, were the eightfold winged humanoids, tall in stature, hovering across the Vatican and the rooftops of its various churches, wearing Spartan armor that held the same symbols of Chi-Rho with an Alpha on the left and an Omega on the right. If one called them angels, they were right and wrong. Wrong, because these are not the first creatures that predate all of the invisible and visible orders. Right, because they were one of countless messenger species of their LORD, who by His Word, created them in variety.
For they were the Amorians, who served under the protogenoi steward whom the Greeks called Eros and whom the Romans called Cupid. The steward and the Amorian Hosts under him were called to reflect the variety and diversity of Love. One cannot count the numbers of these Amorians, for their numbers exceed even all of the stars of Creation.
They lifted their swords high as they sang a love song in a language that was not of Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, nor any of the languages of the West and East, nor the languages of most Asian countries, except for one, a nation that had always been faithful to its LORD, and whom its language served as a sign of humility. For who in the modern age cares if the songs of the LORD is sung in the familiar protocol? Almost no one. It would not incite them any more than any secular song.
But as Saint Isaiah the Prophet had once said: "Whom will he teach knowledge, and to whom will he explain the message? Those who are weaned from the milk, those taken from the breast? For it is precept upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line, here a little, there a little. Nay, but by men of strange lips and with an alien tongue the Lord will speak to this people, to whom he has said, "This is rest; give rest to the weary; and this is repose"; yet they would not hear. 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."
Then, the Amorites sang in Cebuano.
"Kordero sa Diyos nga nagawagtang sa mga sala sa kalibutan.
Kaloy-i kami.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.)"
Countless draconic species, flew and landed across the rooftops, as they flapped their wings in glory for the LORD who made them. Their horns spoke with authority. Their eyes glowed like fire, for their eyes would behold and stand in the face of a Mystery they had always watched in silence. Countless daemon species were seen, with a variety of shapes and colors, finally visible for all to see, who stood ready and watched. And many more strange creatures passed through out of the invisible veils and came out of respect for who is to come forth from the balcony.
Countless Homo Tempus Clonizo, they who resembled the faces of the clones of a certain franchise speaking of a galaxy far, far away, they of whom that modern myth had unknowingly been pointing too, with their blood red color markings under their armor which bore the Passion of Christ, bearing the symbols of YHWH, the Chi-Rho with Alpha and Omega, and the Most Sacred Heart, and their AK-47-shaped rifles held on their shoulders.
And then, as if to remove all doubt, the Amorites sang the sacred language of Holy Church, which was Latin, as if emphasizing, this is the same LORD, and all languages belong to Him:
"Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Grant us peace. Grant us peace. Grant us peace.)"
And all of the strange creatures and wild beasts look up immediately towards the balcony, where there, amongst the trembling and bewildered cardinals who never expected this kind of gathering, there now walked on the central floor...
...The current Holy Father.
Pope Apollos.
A humble cardinal who came from the Americas and had done missionary work in the past. His blue eyes were quiet and contemplative. His footsteps measured in prayer. The singing of the Amorites in Latin sang to complement the arrival of the Rock of the Church under the Law of the Sovereign King, and the loyal creatures recognized that authority, which is non-negotiable. The Vicar of Christ was greater than any temporal power, for it was the mark of the One who refused to abandon all of His creatures even after His Ascension. It was one of the few things that Ha-Satanas in all his power can never perfectly imitate, no matter even if he sends Anti-Popes, for this was a Promise of the Most Sacred Heart for His people.
For some reason, and this was the thought of most of the cardinals and bishops present, the Holy Father didn't even look surprised at the sight of these strange creatures. Did... Did he know this whole time?
The pope solemnly looked at all of the strange creatures before him, and he quietly raised his right hand to make the Sign of the Cross, blessing all those gathered, even the strangest of creatures who attended an Angelus address. And the blessing of the Pope made the Amorites sing in tears, flapping their wings as they raised their swords even more.
"Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
Dona nobis pacem.
(Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Grant us peace. Grant us peace. Grant us peace.)"
The humans on the ground were shaken, trembling to the core, as they heard the song. As they see with their own eyes, the countless daimon species and their kings kneeling immediately. As they see the dragons roar with the groanings of desiring their LORD with their burning hearts. And many more non-humans gestured in reverence, more than even any churchgoer, putting even the pious to shame. For they were not human nor angel, and yet, they acknowledge the Sovereign LORD of Hosts who is Love and Mercy.
And as for the rest of the world's leaders, they couldn't help but watch, in shock and awe. An unthinkable event. Not the end of the world. Not a new utopian encounter. But simply the veil finally tearing off, for Earth was ready to meet its unknown brothers and sisters again.
Quietly, as the strange creatures respectfully ceased their tongues, the pope began the Angelus prayer first and foremost for this special occasion, in customary Latin. When he pronounces the first phrase: "The Angel of the LORD declared unto Mary." and the strange creatures responded solemnly in their own tongues: "And she conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit." And this went on for the rest of the prayers.
The majority of the poor humans had no idea how to make sense of this. They couldn't even utter a word. They were watching in real time beings who acknowledged the Judeo-Christian GOD just as humans do. How...? How would these beings know Him?
And after the finishing of the Angelus prayer, the pope quietly addressed all of mankind throughout the world who watched the mysteries unfold before them with a solemn expression.
"Dear brothers and sisters in the LORD," says the pope, which made the collective entirety of mankind feel their breath hitched. "Saint Paul once said in his letter to the Colossians that, "For in Him were created all things in the heavens and on the earth, things visible and things invisible.". He also said in his letter to the Philippians, "that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend of those in heaven, on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father.".
All of the strange creatures were bowing their heads quietly when the Name of their LORD was mentioned. The armed imperial stormtroopers, the Homo Tempus Clonizo, stood in strict attention for their Christos Mand'alor, who is the One True Emperor of All Nations.
"Now, you see before your very eyes, other creatures that most of you have never known of before. But I tell you, this is not a new thing. It had always been so," the pope spoke softly.
The world leaders who had been watching were bewildered and concerned, looking at one another wherever they were around the globe. The President of the United States, Howard Nicholson, was watching along with his staff, sharing the same expressions.
"You may ask, but Holy Father, how can you say this is not new? This is unprecedented. There had been no evidence of such cases until now. Actually, my brothers and sisters in Christ, while there may not have been too obviously blatant evidence in the physical and empirical domains, the Church Fathers have never been lacking in their thoughts and in their accounts, for find any Church Father, and he would explain to you of things that would make one reconsider the position and mindset of the ancients. I can only recall, for example, a story recounted by Saint Jerome, the Church Father who gave us the Vulgate, when he mentioned in the Life of Saint Paul the Hermit, that Saint Anthony once came face to face with non-human creatures, firstly a centaur, and then a faun.
The faun himself stated thus: "I am a mortal being and one of those inhabitants of the desert whom the Gentiles deluded by various forms of error worship under the names of Fauns, Satyrs, and Incubi. I am sent to represent my tribe. We pray you in our behalf to entreat the favour of your Lord and ours, who, we have learned, came once to save the world, and 'whose sound has gone forth into all the earth.'."
The children and young teens around the world blinked a little as they watched this, whether in the heart of the event or on their various social media platforms. Surprise was the common expression on their faces. The thought of, "Wait, that actually happened?", passed through them like the wind.
"Thus, I would encourage and invite you all to thoroughly study the patristics and the scholastics in a new light, all of them. This was something that my late predecessor Saint Benedict XVI had often encouraged during his lifetime, even before he was pope. In the same way, I follow my predecessor, and urge you all, look back at all of their writings as they said it themselves, submit all of your opinions to Our Lord Jesus Christ that He may purify them and, through the Holy Spirit, lead you into the truth that it may be of service to the Church and to all creatures under the Kingdom of God.
And so, we pray to the Virgin Mary, the Queen-Mother, who said Yes to the word of the Archangel Gabriel. She who knew the Scriptures more than any Jew, for it was She who was taught by Our LORD Himself, let it be She who now guides us all to understand this new mystery set before us, of whom my predecessor Saint John Paul II had once said, that they are children of GOD as we are."
And after the Pope spoke, a few moments later, the Amorites across the skies and on the rooftops quietly sang in praise, raising their swords and flapping their eightfold wings.
"Sikapin sa ating pagtulong.
Ipamalita sa buong mundo.
Pag-ibig ng Diyos na siyang sumakop.
Sa bawa't pusong uhaw sa pagsuyo.
(Strive to help us.
Spread the word to the whole world.
God's love that has conquered every heart that thirsts for love.)
'Pagka't ang Diyos natin, Diyos ng pag-ibig
Magmahalan tayo't magtulungan
At kung tayo'y bigo, ay 'wag limutin
Na may Diyos tayong nagmamahal
Diyos ay pag-ibig
('Cause our God is a God of Love.
Let's love each other and help each other.
And if we fail, don't forget that we have a God who loves.
God is love.)
And the countless daimons and their kings especially raised their swords up in the air, offering it to their LORD. The draconic beasts and their kings roared which boasted of the majesty of their LORD. And the countless crafts in the skies formed to a shape of the Most Sacred Heart of their LORD. And many countless voices of many other strange creatures sang along with the Amorites.
And all that most of humanity could do... was stare in awe at the majesty of these creatures who praised their LORD.
...Quietly, Pope Apollos was walking through the halls of the Vatican, accompanied by a couple of the cardinals, most of whom were still bewildered and pondering deeply within their hearts regarding the mystery of these non-human creatures who surround the world and give praise to the Trinity. The Holy Father, as he trods the paths, was greeted quietly and humbly by a few of the Homo Tempus Clonizo, though their color markings differed from those outside, for these men come from a different branch, the 5001st Systems Armed Forces. The color markings held tekhelet blue, burnt orange, and black ashes, yet they carried the same symbols as the rest of their brothers outside, which were the Tetragrammaton (YHWH), the Chi-Rho with Alpha on the left and Omega on the right, and the Most Sacred Heart.
On the side, multiple cameras were rolling, with flashes of white. Gathering by was every news reporter who wanted to record everything about these strange events. The entire planet still reeled over the fact that now they are forced to confront the fact that they were never truthfully alone in the universe, that there were indeed creatures of diversity and of unknown, yet unlike what most modern thoughts had occurred, these creatures worship the Judeo-Christian GOD.
As the cameras rolled, they zoomed in on one of these men who took off his helmet out of respect for the pope. The man's face was revealed. A black trim-cut military hair, yet his face carried a familiarity to anyone who had seen Star Wars. Whispers were across the air, "Oh my God... he really does look like Temuerra Morrison... This is insane...", and other phrases echoed through the halls.
The pope himself never looked surprised, unlike some of the cardinals who walked with him, as they couldn't help but stare at the man who stood before the Pope.
"Your Holiness," the man did not salute. Such military gestures have no place before the Sovereign Pontiff, who exceeds all military protocol. Instead, he bows his head before a Steward of All Monarchs with absolute reverence. He spoke in a language that is eerily similar to English, hence understandable when the world records it with their cameras, with the reporters feeling their mouths turn dry. The rest of the clonizo bowed their heads and followed the example of their superior.
"Ah... Governor-General Tannenburg," the pope greeted the familiar face, smiling quietly. "...How goes my spiritual son from afar?"
His tone was discreet, for he did not wish to reveal the identity of who actually leads all of the imperial clonizo stormtroopers of the Kingdom and Empire of the Most Sacred Eucharistic Heart, which spans all worlds, all metaphysics, all creation, for such an identity belonged to an anointed Great Catholic Monarch who hailed from an Earth different from the pope's, and yet, it had the same Catholic Church. There were not two or three bodies, for there had always been One Mystical Body; the unicity of the Church has always been a truth of the faith which applies to all worlds where there is the Catholic Church.
"The High Governor-General of the Empire is doing well, your Holiness," says Tannenburg with a solemn calm. He said,"high governor-general", and not "high king", for personal discretion. While both terms are true in both cases, he is to remain a mystery for the time being, whom no one needs to know for now, for this world needs to be led gently and not be given too much information all at once when it is not necessary. And it is also in the case of prudence, to prevent people from missing the mark. There is only One Sovereign King, and that is the LORD Himself. The Great Catholic Monarch is merely a servant-shepherd of the temporal order, in the line of Cyrus the Great, as Saint Isaiah the Prophet had said.
"He only asks for your Apostolic Blessing so that he may fulfill the will of Our LORD," Tannenburg said.
And the pope smiled with the twinkling of a spiritual father. He raised his right hand to make a Sign of the Cross, for even distance does not stop a blessing from a Vicar for the child who was crowned by the LORD as Great Catholic Monarch and Last Roman Emperor at the blessed age of fourteen. "May he who is my son in spirit be given this blessing of Almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, come down on him and remain with him forever."
"Amen," says Tannenburg, and the rest of the boys in blue clonizo.
The crowds were both confused and intrigued by this gesture. Wait... what are they talking about? A spiritual son who is called a High Governor-General? And quietly, this spread out across social communications and media. Already, the YouTubers were reacting in shock. What else does the pope know that isn't revealed yet? What spiritual son?
"If it pleases your Holiness, may I humbly ask to bring a report to you in private?" says Tanneburg, speaking with grim urgency.
The pope's smile quietly turns grim, yet smiling nevertheless. "Of course, my son."
And whispers of "Private report?" were echoing across the news media and the world leaders who watched.
"...Private report?" says Vice President Lance Richardson, frowning as he looks at the television screen. "Of what exactly? What exactly would the Pope talk about with someone who... looks like someone straight out of Star Wars?"
"Well, it's important, no doubt, but to bring it up on live news and for all of the media to take notes? It's quite risky..." says the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Edward Furlong, who frowned as well, arms crossed.
President Howard Nicholson would quietly ponder this information before thinking deeply. "...We may be looking at this all wrong."
Everyone of his staff looked at him.
"...We're trying to think like people who are assessing another nation that could potentially affect America's interests. That's the wrong way to go about this. Politics won't save the American people, not this time. We're literally just going to face the facts here, people. We, and every other nation on this planet, are dealing with the literal Kingdom of the ALMIGHTY, whom every President has prayed and invoked since Washington, right here on this Earth, with entire civilizations with technology and capabilities that are too unpredictable to be analyzed by humanity's current scientific means. If that soldier literally brought it up to the Pope in the news about a private report, then something must be going down, and there's no stress of classified info. The pope and this soldier wanted the world to know."
"...But why?" says Nate Heshemyer, the Secretary of Defense with grey hair and a concerned frown. "Pastoral reasons perhaps?"
"At this point, that's more likely the answer," says General Nexton, looking at the television screen. "They're giving the world leaders a hint. Something's about to go down. Or something may have already been going down long before any of this started. No way is any of this a coincidence, especially with these creatures coming out of the woodwork, not bound to any international treaty from any superpower or the UN."
"Which meant something warranted entire sovereign hidden nations under GOD's Kingdom to show up and cover the entire planet with no corner left that did not have any strange creature already being there," President Nicholson spoke grimly, putting his hands near his mouth. "Then there are those imperial stormtroopers, what the news called the Homo Tempus Clonizo. Based on interviews, from the reports of these beings, it seems that they happen to be the same race that helped the ALMIGHTY back when He... died."
The president was quietly pondering the interviews. The so-called Harrowing of Hell. He was a Lutheran of course, in the modern sense, so he may not have taken it too seriously. Until this situation warranted it and he needed to check on it, and had been checking on it. It spoke of Christ Himself coming down across the abode of the dead, whether of the just or of the damned. It was wide-scale, to put an understatement. And if these were one of those beings who participated in that, then... GOD just sent His armed forces, and a commander-in-chief doesn't send His armed forces unless there is ever-present danger.
"...Secretary Marquis," he glanced at the Secretary of State, Leila Marquis, a beautiful black woman with a history of law degrees, with long hair in a ponytail. "You've gotten in line with the Vatican yet?"
"The Cardinal Secretariat of State has received our message, and the Holy Father is more than willing to dialogue with us, but he prefers as well to address all of the world leaders, according to what the cardinal told me," says Secretary Marquis, with a grim expression. "According to the Cardinal Secretariat, it would be wise for America to prepare all of its forces in case of emergency."
Every one of the staff looked at each other with concern.
"...That's...not something a Cardinal Secretariat would normally say," the President spoke cautiously. "Did you ask why?"
"From what he told me, sir... it seems first contact with other worlds that never knew GOD is more likely to occur here," says the Secretary, grimly.