Ga Rei: Exodus Nine (IC)

[Airen]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Location: City’s Memory (?)
Time: ???

It's hard, but you manage to stand up on your own.

Your body disagrees with the decision, the waves of pain, burning not like fire, but zipping like electricity through a broken body making it's displeasure clear, the struggles of a body that is done with it's owner's abuse, and is insisting that they stay down for their collective sake. As a human, you naturally ignore this little cue from your body, forcing yourself up to face the enemy even though, deep down, you know that survival will become impossible if you did so.

After all, if Belial was coming here, it meant that Phenex had been defeated.

That person would fight to the last for your sake, you were sure of that, so if Belial was so clear as to be able to leave the battlefield, then it was simply no longer a battlefield at all.

If Phenex had lost, then certainly you had no chance, especially not in this state.

Even so, controlling yourself, you move forward, not just letting him come to you, but actively going to it, defiant, the same as the humans of the old world, moving to confront monsters that cannot be defeated, simply because they refused to get stepped on without a fight...

No... Not just that...

For humans, strength came from the desire to protect something...

Even in your case, this is no different.

The titanic footsteps continue, and it's figure comes into view. Massive as always, a titan that stretched far above the line of three stories, the scene is nevertheless different this time, there's something in it's hand, a clear sphere of flame, much like a a bubble, a prison, and as the thing comes into view, as it's eyes flick from the destruction to you...

It's form changes in a flash of light.

From an impossibly huge monster to something that looks like a human; standing amongst the flames of the broken city, the sphere of flame it had been carrying before is now resting on the ground at it's side, a bird, a phoenix, the existence that was exactly what you believed it to be, seemingly trapped inside, the flames that made up it's body weak, close to nonexistent.

"Well played, well played."

Belial speaks, and the voice, while not as booming, as titanic, is still filled with strength, a grim reminder that death was but an intention away, even as you can feel it's presence decrease, slowly, like a hole had been opened in it's existence and "power," was draining out, the difference, the gap, between the two of you is still something that your instincts scream in insurmountable.

"Killing my summoner. Phenex would certainly use that sort of tactic," still speaking, not allowing you to get a word in edgewise, the prince of hell tilts his head slightly to the side, observing you, "He fought quite hard even with no real strength. He has no master, but you seem to mean something to him, so I presume the opposite is true as well?"

His gaze moving over to the fallen bird, a grin appears, stays, and despite the surroundings, the sea of flames, your blood starts to run cold.

"You lost the moment he did, but as you have successfully managed to inconvenience me, I am willing to make an arrangement. Contract with me, and I will allow everyone here to live. Refuse, and I will reduce everything here to ash before the darkness reclaims me."

A voice that burns with cold fire.

And one that reminds you of the consequences that had befallen someone else.

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Location: City’s Memory (?)
Time: ???

For Phenex, this may well be the worst possible situation. For Belial to stand before his charge alone. Few in this world truly knew Saki. Of those few, those that knew her better than he numbered only two. With her power to see into the heart itself Suzume cheated her way to the front of the pack, hearing the voice behind all other voice’s meant that Suzume knew the truth of many people. More than thoughts, she knew their feelings. The most powerful voice of all.

But even without that power to see into places better left unseen, Phenex knew enough of what feelings were locked away in that heart.

Her red eyes stared into his circular prison as Belial spoke to her.

If Phenex wasn’t speaking up, if no lines such as ‘forget me, save yourself,’ or ‘don’t do it,’ came...

“A name synonymous with freedom, independence, ‘without a master’ …” Scornful eyes turned to the red-haired man who radiated destruction. Her throat hurt. Every word was painful, the aftereffect of having her neck broken. But to show weakness here would be unfitting for her status. Here, she was in control. Here, she would decide Belial’s fate.

A laugh, scornful and abrupt. Full of mockery for the one called Belial. The silence of Phenex could only mean one of two things. That he simply couldn’t speak from within his prison…

“Do you really want to contract with me? You’ll find no freedom at all if you do.” Or that he had merely chosen to save his breath, knowing the futility of it. “Independence… For you it must surely exist, after driving your Summoner into an empty husk, sheltering them from death while caging them in fire. Marionettes to dance to strings of agony, held in your hands. But I am different.”

The princess lifted her hand, shut tight in a fist, and opened it. Like grains of sand, countless crimson petals fell from her open palm to the charred ground below.

“Surely you felt it, Prince of Hell. The way your summoner died. Those chains… those strings you pulled him along with, I severed them.” The petals stopped falling, their light fading away as the girl closed her hand again, this time in a much gentler clasp.

“Contract with me, and the moment you try to drive me to emptiness, drive this Saki Ryuumonbuchi hollow, and I will sever the chains between us myself, dooming you to fade back into that darkness. Sooner will I lay in a casket of cypress than live in the embrace of Ophelia’s amaranth.”

[Airen]

Jonathan R. Black
Neo Aoyama - Agency Ruins
Midnight

While they were certainly moving fast, eventually, the two runners seemed to hit a wall that they could not pass, a consequence of the bounded field Akane had seemed to set up earlier, and because of that, it was a simple matter of catching up to them. From afar, it was clear early on that it was a man and a woman, both dark-haired, running at a pace that indicated they were exorcists at the very least. They hadn't been talking at first, breathless from their sprint, but as they reach the invisible wall, and the girl falls to her knees, as if her body was weak, you can hear the vague mutterings of a conversation between the two of them, although the actual content of the conversation escapes you.

You fly closer, Michio approaching from below, figure seeming to warp from place to place, and as you finally get close enough to make out the faces of the runners, or at least, the face of the girl, you can't help but recognize her as familiar.

"Alright, first off, there are these two. These two people are very important to me, I need them alive, if you find them, do not attack them, just tell me where they are and I'll take care of them... I doubt you could kill them anyway, but even if the chance comes up, do not touch them, if you do, I will kill you myself~"

Isoyama Izumi.

Well then... How convenient.

[Mormarth]

Watanabe Tomoya
Zweitarium ~ Infirmary

"I haven't seen him, but I'm positive he's in here somewhere."

I hummed, the line strangely solitary in the air, despite the low buzz of quiet conversation flitting around the large room, he was the only one really 'speaking'.

Still, he was a smart guy, he knew what I was getting at.

"Still, even if he isn't here, it's best for you not to leave this place."

I scratched at my nose, disinterested, but listening.

"Everyone in here was attacked, but no one was killed, it's an obvious ploy to weaken the opposition. Once we found out who the Mastermind behind this was, everyone would band together in an attempt to take him out. This is the obvious action from our side, we have no reason not to work together if we are the ones being targeted, especially when none of us are at full strength. Maiya was beaten outright."

He nodded at the unresponsive girl lying in the bed.

"She said she awoke some sort of power, Eclipse, I believe, and shortly afterwards, even though her body gave out because of that power afterward, her opponent left as if he was satisfied with just that much. The others have similar stories. They are attacked, pushed to the brink, and then when they cross the edge, the opponent lets them go. It's happened too many times to be a coincidence, their plan must revolve around that power in some way."

Well, if people are dismissed as threats to whoever because they unlocked this Eclipse thing, I'l enjoy being the exception.

I continued to listen, eyes half-lidded, projecting the demeanor of an oncoming locomotive.

"We're also being held hostage here, not in the castle, but whatever this world is."

"I asked the 'Goddess,' here, and this world seems to be an alternate space. Hazama, was the name. From what she can tell, or at least from what she told me, someone has sealed off all the exits to this place. We can't get out until we find who locked the doors... Which is just another way for this guy to shepard us all to him. Get it? He wants us to come and face him. Whatever plan he has, the last act of it will start the moment we go out to fight him... If that's the case, we can stop it simply by refusing to engage him, I believe this is the plan that goddess is using, at the very least, she doesn't want us out there until we're back to full strength, and I agree."

I snorted.

"Yagami Ryota. ESPer. Age 25. Specializes in illusions. Participated in the battle against the Kyuubi eight years ago. Was part of the direct assault team. Returned from the battle with an absurd amount of spiritual power. Was ordered to return to base, but severed his ties with the agency. Because of the change in his form it was assumed he had become a youkai, they attempted to bring him in, he defeated them all easily. Is officially classified as "invincible," in the eyes of agency. He appears to be highly resistant to all forms of attack, and is able to recreate the Kyuubi's power for short periods... Much like yourself, but on a much grander scale. In short, he is not someone you can win against, especially not as you are now, half dead and spiritually exhausted... But that's true for everyone else in here as well, he is an unfair opponent. If he is really the mastermind, then we shouldn't be thinking about fighting him, we should be thinking about getting as far away from him as possible until our side is back at full power."

It changes nothing, invincible or not, impossible to defeat or otherwise, all that matter is if he is in my way.

Lecturing will solve nothing, I grow tired of being told facts and reasoning about the situation when all that really mattered in the end was that someone under my protection was in danger.

That would end, one way or another, and that's all there was to it.

Gods, Demons, ESPers, this Yagami, none of them are my concern, they can go ahead and do as they please.

I'm not some world-saving hero, I don't have any kind of messiah complex, and I'm not the kind of person who'd die to save the world.

I'm not that strong.

The World is a big place, I can't concern myself with everyone in it.

If I was the kind of person who'd seek to benefit the maximum amount of people, to save as many as I could, I'd stay here, I'd sit down and wait, like a good little boy.

But I'm not, I'm no hero.

When there's a terrible monster bearing down on the damsel in distress, the hero's supposed to get some awesome cool power and save the day, triumphant music and all.

I could barely even save myself.

But I won't let that happen again. Ever.

Even if it would be the best possible option to sit here and quietly sleep away the rest of eternity, I refuse to accept it.

It's selfish, and cowardly, and for all the wrong reasons.

But I won't let the people I care about suffer while I can still move.

These are all long, drawn-out dramatic reasons, but all that matters at the end of the day is that I'm going out that door.

Words are cheap.

"Even still, if you really want to try to play hero again... At least take me with you."

I looked at him.

"It might not work. But I have a trump I've been saving that might give us a chance... A single digit chance, but a chance... I'm not really authorized to use it, but these circumstances seem to be rather extreme."

I grunted.

"Well? Feel like getting us both killed? You've proven me wrong before, so if you're feeling lucky, I'll bet on that luck with you."

I waved a hand in the air, "Sure, why not. Going to need someone who bothers to think about things more than not at all."

Boy, I'm turning into a big old sourpuss. Must be the lack of coffee getting to me.

Stupid astral realms and their lack of caffeinated mud drink, it's bullshit.

I stretched, "So, if you're wanting to come along and try and pull some snotty french guy out of whatever hell he's made for himself, by all means. The more the merrier."

I looked over towards the door, "Still, if we're going to be going ahead with this, should probably get going, yeah? I'd say something dramatic and stirring and heroic and swing the whole room behind us, but I was never very good at that whole thing, so I'll settle for just slipping out the back before I end up starting a fight with someone."

[Snax]

Jonathan R. Black
Neo Aoyama - Agency Ruins
Midnight

"Well, well. If it isn't the one she's been looking for, heh."

Jonathan didn't smile. While he was interested in the girl and why Akane needed them, that would all be explained in due time. Instead of swooping down and capturing them himself, however, it would be smarter to go back to Akane since the girl didn't seem to be able to leave the field. Just in case, however, Jonathan had Pestilence move him towards where Michi was hiding.

"Yo, Mich - I dunno if you have some kind of link with Akane as I have with this demon, but keep a watch on them. I'll go back to Akane and tell her the news, maybe help her with whatever trash she's dealing with. I'm pretty sure they won't be able to leave the field as is now, but in the case they do seem to make some kind of breakthrough, holler out."

With no further ado, Jonathan aimed his newfound steed back to where the small girl was having her fun.

[Mooncake]

Jacques Dussault
Original Aoyama, Hell
Time: ???


This is bad.

This is so bad it's laughable. So much for taking her alive.

Springing back to earth, I can only watch as the blade of Gisela moves so fast it becomes an arc of light propelling her off of Joan. She stays on the ground, the two of us each facing her as she slips into a stance. Her blue eyes close and open red, and that's when I know we are well and truly fucked. Her previous speed is like a joke in comparison to the monster fighting us now - I thought we had a chance before, but Gisela outclasses Joan so badly I can't even move to aid her before it's over. The knight slams into her sword and with a single kick that cracks like thunder sends Joan flying into a nearby pile of rubble.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I scramble backwards as Gisela overpowers Joan like she isn't even worth mentioning. Suspended in midair, her read eyes meet my own, and...

I'm going to die?

She spins in the air, every muscle tensing as she moves to swing at me from so far away.

I'm going to die.

Her blade leaves her hands and begins to spin, burning into a blood-red scythe.

Mina, Tom, Arya, I'm sorry.

It's unavoidable, I just...

I'm not going to die without something to remember me by.

It's only seconds left now, as time seems to slow. I think I can see ghostly faces on - no, in - the blade, each more hateful than the last, each of them clamoring for vengeance.

Vengeance?

That's it!

Time begins to speed up again, and as the reaper's scythe comes to claim my life I feel a buzz in my chest. Energy surges through me, and the shadows grab me and throw me so hard I swear a rib is broken. But, hell, I can hardly feel it, so it doesn't matter. In a minute, it won't matter ever again.

Arya taught me about spirits when we had free time - he taught me about how monsters are formed, a bit about the killing stones, possession giving people power at the cost of sanity, but hey, I've run out of choices.

It really is only seconds now, so...

"HEY!"

I point at Gisela.

"LISTEN UP! I WANT POWER! I WANT SO MUCH GODDAMN POWER THAT MY SOUL ROTS OUT OF MY BODY! ANY SPIRIT HERE, ANY WILLING GHOST OR DEMON, I'M UP FOR GRABS! GIVE ME THE POWER TO KILL THIS BITCH AND JACQUES DUSSAULT IS YOURS!"

I'm past the point of caring, if I ever gave thought to the future. Well, if this works or if this fails I won't exist anymore, so...

I really stop caring.

"COME ON!"

[Airen]

Jacques Dussault
Original Aoyama, Hell
Time: ???

Desperation.

A human emotion that emerges when a wall that can't be crossed, separates them from the future they sought. As someone who has never thought of themselves at invincible, or even very strong, Jacques Dussault has a strong grasp on reality, understanding and accepting things that others would deny, and thus, he is someone who never gets careless when the cards are down, is not afraid of reaching out to others to fulfill the gaps in power he possesses.

As death approaches from one side, a sword that may as well have been Death's scythe, the desperation, mixed with this pragmatism, is what causes him to call out for the restless dead. If this world is truly a replica of that day, that day eight years ago, then surely there would be someone here to loan you strength; it didn't matter what you had to pay in recompense, because you were going to die if things kept up like this, there was no difference between holding onto your body, and loaning it someone else, either way, in the worse case scenario, you would vanish from this world.

It doesn't matter.

And because it doesn't matter.

That voice, your voice, filled with rage, anger and resignation, is perhaps the most emotion filled scream you have ever let loose.

The blade approaches as your voice echoes into the darkness.

Yes.

Echoes.

Hearing it on playback, the sound of you desperately calling out to someone for help is something you are able to hear more than once. It's a proof of your fear, a proof that Jacques Dussault is human and does not want to die, but...

Here...

In this dead world...

Nobody comes.

There it is.

The feeling of you being impaled by a blade.

While it's the first time something like this has happened to you, it doesn't hurt nearly as badly as you had assumed it would from the sheer length of the blade. It certainly still hurt, the course of your body changing it's flight path is accompanied by the sound of your screaming voice, but even then, you still possess enough presence of mind to understand that your spine had not been damaged, that, at the very last moment, you had been able to divert the blade enough to avoid at least that much.

Even so-

You hit a building, one damaged but still standing, and your body slams through it and into a concrete pillar, the blade pinning you to it, pulsing with crimson electricity that made your world a whole different kind of torturous hell.

-You also possess enough presence of mind to understand what will happen next.

Your hands have gone numb, the strength in your arms is almost nonexistent, you can't move the sword, and thus you are stuck here, just like this, the blade itself was not a fatal wound, it was crippling yes, but if the fight ended right here, you would be fine.

Problem was, it wouldn't end here.

At least, not with you as the victor.

The woman steps through the hole in the wall that your entrance had created, steps slow, expression stoic, and killing intent as high as it had been since she had appeared here.

Eight seconds.

At that speed, she can reach you in that time, and if she does.

Game Over.

End of the road, end of the line.

You panic, if you could breathe, you would probably call out again, but at this point all that emerges is the gargle of blood from an impaled lung. There's no one here, there are no wraiths nearby, all had been drawn into that false kyuubi, and yet...

You could swear you had heard a voice right before the impact...

No... Many voices... The sound of laughter...

Not from the outside... But inside of yourself...

Voices that had left a burning feeling deep inside, one you couldn't describe, but one that felt so warm as to be calming, so warm as to serve as an assurance that Jacques Dussault will not die here.

Calling out to that voice, those voices, that burning feeling...

You can start to make out words of encouragement, whispers telling you to stop whining, that if you had time for that, then you had time to fight, and as they appear, one by one, until they become a chorus that sits at the back of your thoughts, that warm feeling seems to spread outwards, darkness gathering at the heart and spreading out towards your limbs as an aura of gentle black.

Pain numbs.

Footsteps stop, and a head tilts to the side, observing you from a dozen meters away, and...

Just like that...

Class Change

ESPer -> ESPer (Eclipse Diver)

You find the strength to move.

[Airen]

Farimah Rajavi
Zweiteturm ~ Training Room/Junk Room (?)
???

Reversing the attack of the opponent upon them, the storm of metal slams into the humanoid figure of the composite youkai with a force equal to several explosions. Metal meeting metal, the place sparks, shrapnel flying everywhere from the high speed contact, but you stand tall, listening to Lena cheer you on as you stare down the place where the youkai had used to be, and what had now become just another heap of spare "garbage" in the room.

It had been too easy.

With Lena having gone silent alongside the fall of the beast, but her eyes still on you, as if it wasn't over at all, the paranoia inside of you keeps your gaze looking over the sea of assorted items.

"There's a core!"

Finally, after a few seconds of nothing but silence, no motion, no feeling, the light haired woman calls down to you from her perch, the same smile on her face.

"You haven't really purified it until you destroy that! It's always protected, take another shot at it!"

As she says it...

The scattered items, the metal, the wood, the cloth, the plastic, everything in the room, including Lena's self made throne, which she abandons with casual grace, all draw themselves to it's center, piling themselves, swiftly, relentlessly, into a titan of humanoid proportions, a thing that lacked a head, but nevertheless had the "form," of a person.

It screeches, and the thing that was it's 'fist,' comes crashing down at you, slowly at first, then faster and faster-!

At the same time, no, slightly before....

"Here."

A sword is thrown your way. It's a shamshir, the same as what you were used to, but the feeling it gives off is different somehow...

Not that you have time to really think about it, or even really examine it.

A four story tall giant of trash throwing itself at you, even as an ESPer, it's still something you can't just ignore.

[Airen]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Location: City’s Memory (?)
Time: ???

"...If you believe you can do such a thing, then there should be no problem with the arrangement, correct?"

The smile does not fade, the voice shows no emotion other than calm confidence, and even though a certain bird struggle for a moment in it's prison, throwing itself at the walls, the demon masquerading as a man does not even achknowledge it.

"True, the ability to damage the soul like that is normally not allotted to humans. Maybe your willpower is greater than my last summoner, and thus, maybe you could keep me in check. But this chain severing plan... Perhaps you could do it, but the difference between you and I is that such a thing would be fatal for you, and a mere inconvenience for me. It would be... Unfortunate, to get pulled back into that dark space, but I would recover, my kind always do eventually, you would die, and I would return, not immediately, but soon, unlike yourself."

The smile deepens.

"This is a game where you only have one card to play. The others are illusions, the worst case scenario for myself is simply being forced to leave, killing everyone here will only cost me time. It's not ideal, but it won't destroy my existence either. So..."

A hand, outstretched, like he meant for you to shake it.

"How much faith do you have in yourself, human?"

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Location: City’s Memory (?)
Time: ???

“’Perhaps,’ it is not. There is no doubt: those chains will crumble before Saki Ryuumonbuchi becomes what you made of your last summoner, devil.” Defiance answers the deepened smile. Much like Belial, the yakuza princess doesn’t even acknowledge the struggle of her butler, locked within his birdcage.

Phenex’ struggle, much like any answer she might give to it, is pointless.

Standing tall, head held high with the pride she rightfully possessed, Saki strode over the ashen earth. Gait full of confidence, full of purpose. Eager. Eyes alight with anger, indignation, and a hunger. A lust. A deep wanting, as deep as the red in Belial’s eyes.

Speak as in control as he may think himself to be, the fact that fading into darkness is an admitted inconvenience is enough for her to feel superior in this moment. Either road for her is damnation: but for him, one is darkness, one is continued existence in her world. Whichever one befalls him is hers to decide. To that end, she is in control.

Her gaze lowered from those rubies to the outstretched hand of the demon.

“I ask only one thing, Prince of Hell,” hands still at her side, the girl speaks in a tone as though the one offering the contract is her, “what is it that you desire?”

[Airen]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Location: City’s Memory (?)
Time: ???

For a moment, the red-haired demon says nothing in response to your inquiry. There is no harm in answering the question, to humor the prospective summoner for a bit, and yet he takes awhile to answer, eyes the same, but the confident, emotionless smile fading to an expression that showed nothing at all, false or real, and made it even clearer that what you were looking at is a "fake person."

"I came here to retrieve my niece, and murder a fool that thinks themselves a God. There are certainly other things happening here, but they mean little to me. You humans will destroy yourselves eventually, it is only a matter of time."

Somehow unexpected.

And for a demon known as a prince of liars, it somehow still sounded like he was telling the truth.

[Five_X]

Farimah Rajavi
Zweiteturm ~ Training Room/Junk Room (?)
???

I should've expected there to be a bit more of a twist to this... tutorial. The world is not an easy place; I would, in truth, have no real purpose here if the sins and demons could be so easily washed away by such a weak tide of human effort. In fact, in this case all my strength seems to have only made this thing all the more powerful - and disgusting.

Still, Lena beams brightly nearby, full of confidence - or, apparently full of confidence - that I can defeat this nauseating foe. Just when I'd been second-guessing that myself, even. I'm just about ready to double over and vomit all over the place, I can barely take this anymore. The sheer, rancid miasma of this room fills my head like some unholy affliction, starting to make the world around me blurry and ephemeral. I can sense that the amorphous spirit in front of me has grown to massive proportions, but everything else is almost frighteningly vague. I genuinely have to wonder if the aura of this creature will end up killing me, or even simply incapacitating me. If I swoon and fall - that's hardly any different from death, in the situation I'm in. I don't know if Lena would be able to save me in time.

Fear fails to grip me.

Why should I rely on worldly senses and perceptions? That's what this is about. That's what all my study into theology and religious philosophy should have taught me: there is vastly more to the world than what we can perceive on the surface. The phenomena of prayer, for example: is it smell, touch, sight, taste, or feeling? No - it's none of these things. It's something far, far more. This sixth sense, as some prefer to call it, is more properly the sense of spirit; one's pure and personal connection to the divine.

It isn't through a traditional sense that I subsist. I survive and indeed thrive based on spirit, that which escapes scientific principles. Extra-sensory perception, ESP, is a crude and inaccurate way to define it, because it is very much a sense we are all born with. Only some, however, manage to control it and truly understand it, just like there are only some in the world who have mastered their sense of balance, or can control their perception of pain or temperature.

Without looking away, I grip the sword passed to me. Indeed - without looking at all, for by now I've closed my eyes. God will guide me.

I can feel the radiance, brilliant and overpowering, filling my curved blade. It takes less than a second for my spirit to pour into the cold steel, making it unbearably hot to the touch. That is, it would be hot, if I were truly holding this shamshir. I wield it not with my two hands, but with an effort of will, my fingers loosely gripping its hilt; normally, it would fall out of my hands, but instead it stays perfectly still, now.

I do not see, but instead sense the approach of the monstrosity's malformed fist, its disgusting approximation of God's creation.

The beast has let go of all defence, focusing entirely on trying to eradicate me with brute strength. I could, perhaps, stand firm and resist the blow, absorbing the weight of it, suffering the pain, letting my blood wet the floor before I struck back in a vicious counterattack. If this opponent of mine was different, more like me, then that's what I would do. God has gifted my figure with an unnatural resistance, able to survive punishments that no normal human could possibly survive, as He knew I would come into conflict with those who would seek to extinguish His Light. I am simply carrying His message as a warrior of the Light, I am no prophet like Mani himself; my death, unlike his, would bring no great epiphanies to the people of this world.

I speak nothing. Not with my words, nor my body.

Silently, as though meditating, I raise my sword up, holding it almost like a spear. Its shimmering light has ensconced the blade far beyond the confines of its earthly metal, my spirit enhancing what capabilities it naturally has. This is what I feel through my very soul, and I know now, in this moment, I must strike.

The demon before me must believe that it can destroy me with all the clumsiness of a brute, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. I hold my focus on that one, glimmering spot I saw barely seconds ago, still held in my mind, a flawless memory: the core of this thing, what Lena says needs to be purified. With utter precision, I will sink my blessed steel into that point and put an end to this rancid creature. Then, this little charade will be at an end. I can tell that this pile of rubbish is absolutely nothing compared to the true spawn of Satan that had burned me with its hellish flames; if it was anything close, then I'd be dead already. I know that, now that I've lasted this long against it, it clearly lacks the capability to defeat me. No matter what strength this sinful world gives it, even in the confines of this fetid room it has no power over an agent of God.

Running, then leaping, I rush towards the beast, towards its core, climbing over the mounds of rubble and refuse scattered around the room that make up its shifting figure - in order to reach its pale imitation of a soul. I will avoid its pathetic blow against me, and then spell its doom.

If I fail, then I will fall back to the hard floor, battered and bloody - but if I succeed, then I will have proved that my faith is strong, that I am worthy of the trust God has placed in me.

[Spinach]

Saki Ryuumonbuchi
Location: City’s Memory (?)
Time: ???

There was no hiding the surprise in Saki’s eyes. It wasn’t something like surprised disappointment, or surprised approval, just surprise. Belial’s answer betrayed any expectation she had for him. The image of calamity that his true form painted over the world failed to reconcile with the words he had just spoken.

-- Well, the part about murdering somebody lined up fairly well with her first impression of the demon.

Simple destruction, wiping out all ESPers, complete annihilation of the human race, or if she was lucky, an intricate, far-fetched plot spanning the eight years of her life as a Child of the Kyuubi. Answers such as those were preferable, if not outright expected here. The logic in her prefabricating world had already determined that kind of answer, which was why for a moment she simply brought her eyes back up to the demon’s own and stared in surprised silence.

The void left behind by her silence gave way to a less scornful smile. Slowly, mildly, subtly, she smiled at the demon’s answer. Not at he himself, simply his words. A smile completely different from her usual bold, attention demanding smiles that burnt like a wildfire over a quiet forest meadow in the dead of night.

It was a smile that believed those words of Belial’s. There was still a thorn behind it, an ever burning lick of spite for the demon’s actions. Trust his word as she may, anger still flickered behind Saki’s eyes.

That’s good.

She reminded herself. Hold onto that anger. Never forget what he is. That undying spark will serve as an unending reminder of his true nature. Of what fate can wait for her should she let her guard down.

The smile fading, she brought her hand up, toward Belial’s. A wreath of syringa burning a vivid violet circled her wrist, and a red rose enveloped her open hand.

Swallowed in crimson, she took the demon’s hand.

“Belial.”

And spoke his name.

[Airen]

Interlude
Akane and Jonathan
"The Dark"

The sound of destruction, of metal clashing with metal, of explosions and fire, cracks and pops, are what greet your approach back towards the main building, the scene for the final battle between the leader of the Agency and Akane, one that she had taken for herself, asked neither you nor Michio to help her with, and one that, having felt her power, Jonathan R. Black was surprised had gone on for as long as it had seemed to go. The sounds are fast and deep, the sounds of combat between two people who lived beneath the moon, under the veil of the supernatural, but rather than a battle between two ESPers, as was becoming so common a sight on this night, the battle that has appeared here, is one between a human and a "monster."

And looking at it from here, a safe distance, or rather, as safe as could be judged, the fight that is already in it's last moments is one where the human, and the monster, are easy to distinguish from each other.

The monster, Akane, whose body seems to have aged to that of a teenager, is surrounded by supernatural phenomena of all kinds, black shadows, miasma, emerge from her body like mist, forming themselves into weapons, transforming into effects reminiscent of ESP, red flashes of pure force, blades of water and ice, beams of light, other things that don't make sense, but are nevertheless attacks of some sort. Each and everyone of her movements is "incarnated violence," there are no pure defensive moves, even the act of her dodging out of the way of attacks carry counterattacks that strike at her opponent from all angles, she is a blur, even to your eyes, and watching, almost in awe, the sheer fact that she's fighting five opponents at once, no, not just fighting, but winning, is enough to get you to stop in your tracks and just stare at the scene in front of you.

Time passes, and yet, the fight does not end.

Her foot lashing out to strike her opponent, a silver haired man, surrounded by four massive suits of what seem to be armor, the brief moment where the two part, where a pause in the combat takes place, is enough for you to turn your gaze to him.

He is a human, you can tell that much just from a single glance.

However, standing with his hands in his pockets, the amount of Spiritual Power he is giving off dwarfs even the man you had fought outside. He lies at the center of his own storm of blue, the master of the armors at his side, the spirit that pours out from him goes into them seamlessly, and even from here you can tell that he's controlling them with his thoughts, the crushing blows, each enough to destroy a building in one shot, each fast enough to appear around their target near simultaneously, striking at her weak points, it is a feat of near impossibility for the girl to repel them as she is, with open palms, batting aside titanic limbs that should crush all the bones in her body in one shot, getting closer and closer, her speed so out of this world that...

No...

It wasn't just her speed...

She was fighting this battle like she knew everything about her opponent from the start. There was never a single attack the man could muster up that would break the small smile on her face, her movements were fast, but not panicked, confident instead of distressed, there is none of the "sense of danger," normally present in supernatural battles, and for the first time, Akane's real "face," the expression of someone with an "awareness," of the world that was almost haunting, shows itself as she draws and raises her hand.

That face knows too much.

Something inside of you screams that, that she should not be able to fight like that, that this whole mission should not have worked from the start, that it was odd that she was able to take this place so easily, but as that primal sense goes off...

Darkness and electricity mix into a mass of spiritual force so dense that the room itself feels like it triples in weight.

It lurches forth, a mass of destruction, a magic meant for nothing other than vaporizing the opposition, and the man disappears inside of it. For a moment, the magic stops, shakes, as if the beings on the other side are pushing back on it, but as the floor bursts apart, concrete cracking, the building itself shaking, the massive sphere seems to overpower it's target, driving him and his familiars through the back wall, a storm of dust and debris making it almost impossible to see anything when the smoke from the fire was taken into account.

"Ahhh~<3 Well, that went better than expected~ Guess it's time to clean up~"

Even the voice seems older.

Her miasma shooting out through the room, dark figures, incarnate shadows, start to form in the shapes of humans around the room, while they have no features at first, but slowly, one by one, they start to become the people that had existed here mere minutes before, even the face of the two you and Michio had struck down outside, slowly appears from the nether, stoic expressions replacing the anger they had shown in their previous life.

And as you watch all of this, somewhat distracted...

"Yes, Jonathan?"

The young woman questions you without turning around, seemingly focused on this current task.

[Airen]

One-Eyed Man
Shadow Vortex

Somehow, you got the feeling that the bloodlust of this thing was not pure, or rather, that even like this, a part of it was restraining itself from killing either you or the dragon; when you grab him, arms locking around his waist, there is a brief feeling of tension, of bloodlust, where it felt almost like your head had been soundlessly torn from your body, but as that feeling passes, and the both of you fall back from each other, it reveals itself as just that, a feeling, an image of a future that could have been attempted, but one that had not come to pass.

This sort of thing is unsatisfying, while you had shoved him, now into the path of the blade, your muscles pushing themselves to the limit, the first real moment of satisfaction comes from ancient sword piercing his stomach, the momentum and spiritual strength behind the God's own magic doing the damage that would otherwise be impossible, should be impossible. The force is his own, overwhelming, and he is driven back by it, feet digging into non-existent earth as the sword stops upon it's hilt reaching his flesh. It's an impressive wound, dead center, likely to have severed the spine of any human that was struck with it, ESPer or not, but...

Where an ESPer would have certainly collapsed from such a dead on strike to a vital area, it wasn't a wound that was fatal alone, something that more stood out as a "stunning tactic," than a "decisively fatal strike."

And... As far as that goes...

This thing isn't human at all.

Still standing, standing because this body is just a form he happens to find 'convenient,' the man slowly withdraws the blade from his false flesh, almost seeming to twist the blade the to test the wound, before pulling it from his body.

What emerges is more akin to darkness than blood, a thin spray of black and purple fire, something that splashes onto the floor of this world, this dead dark world, and immediately seems to disappear.

"..."

Ignoring this wound, the star god raises his hand, and snaps his fingers.

A magic circle appears beneath your feet, spreading out about thirty meters in any direction.

No, to say it appears would be incorrect... As if an invisible hand was sketching it, the circle pieces itself together rapidly, the characters covering it's surface making no sense to you at all.

In the distance, the dragon slowly pulls itself back up.

And standing, gaping hole in his chest, the God looks at the sword again, it's edge covered in purple flames...

And tosses it into the ground in front of you?

[Airen]

Farimah Rajavi
Zweiteturm ~ Training Room/Junk Room (?)
???

One blow.

Defeat it in one blow.

That seemed to be the future Lena was steering you towards, handing out the answer, then watching to see what you do with it, the grey-haired woman says nothing further, but she stands, stands for a brief moment before you close your eyes, focusing on the 'warmth,' that existed within the titan of discarded objects. You can't see it with your eyes, it has covered it, covered it for the sake of protecting itself, much like you would protect your heart or head, but as you charge, avoiding the fist, leaping from what's left of the scattered mountains to it's arm, and from it's arm to it's chest, attacking the place a heart would exist on a human, you do so flawlessly, moving perfectly in spite of your fatigue from the day's events.

It's there, in it's false chest.

That has to be the place, all of your senses tell you that it must be so, and thus, turning yourself into a spear, once more attempting to put the idea of "cutting through," to use, the Farimah Rajavi that takes flight, leaping up to piece the distant goal, does so...

By tearing through everything on her way to the target.

Or rather, piercing through it all like an arrow, your body shakes, glancing blows hitting your legs and back as things fall apart around you, but with the sound of crashing metal, and the feeling of passing through something warm, something burning crimson, is what greets you when you emerge on the other side of the monstrosity, momentum lost as you begin to plummet, plummet alongside the monster that is now falling to pieces, and while you would be fine from a fall this small...

"Yosh~ Not so bad, huh?"

When you land, Lena has already caught you, arms underneath you, supporting your legs in a casual way that made it clear she didn't see anything embarrassing about this current situation.

[Katie]

Mikagura Mika
Location: Zweiteturm ~ Infirmary
Time: ???

“We’re bruised, battered, and beaten. You know that, I know that, and logistically Nami and I going out is a bad idea. I’m well aware.”

The words come out a bit colder than I intend, but I don’t want to be patronized. The goddess who makes those words sound so forlorn is like an enchantress, and even now, I feel like I should do as she says, not for my sake, but for her’s. To stop Nami and I from doing whatever we’re doing.

I calm myself down with a sigh. There’s no need to be emotional, Mika, even if this is a decision without any logic. You’re helping Nami, and Nami was never a person to think with her brain. Always with her heart. Follow that train of ideas.

“Humans… don’t want to acknowledge that they’re helpless. And sure, maybe we had a rough patch earlier with Yagami. But if we can do something to help anyone else out there right now, we’ll do it, because being human is a bit about sacrifice. Even if it doesn’t make any sense. Concern, as you may know, leads people to do strange things.”

My argument isn’t very solid, but I’m simply explaining—stating what I think. Maybe I’m wrong to speak for Nami. Maybe I’m not. I shouldn’t overthink things.

I move out from my secluded spot behind the bookshelves, holding my head down—seeing Yami is going to make the feeling feel worse—and go past her, opening the door, beckoning for Nami to follow.

“We’ll figure something to do when we’re out there.”

The usual plan: have none.

[Snax]

Jonathan R. Black
Neo Aoyama - Agency Ruins
Midnight

"....Hm."
Although she had called upon him, Jonathan couldn't help but sit and stare for a second, distracted by the spectacle he had just seen. He himself had, no doubt, been picking a fight with her earlier. Part of him had already sensed the danger of such a rash action, but didn't wish to believe it due to the belief in his own strength and the dream he had within himself.

However, that image was already shattered due to the man, the Eclipse Driver he had fought.

He was not strong.

He was merely a headstrong idiot basking in arrogance, trying to usher in an age of the powerful when he himself was just another pawn in the works -

.......

But Jonathan merely smiled. His will was not broken. His dream still stayed true -

He would just have to get more powerful, no matter the cost.
Even if it cost him his soul.
Even if it cost him every piece of flesh, every drop of blood.
Even - if he died.

The weak can indeed grow strong - but they needed someone to push them.
His ideology had not changed - it now merely had an additional directive.

Usher the weak into the era of the strong.
Only those who strive to better themselves succeed.

And he, Jonathan R. Black, would be the progenitor of such a case.

"......"

Hmm.

Coming to his senses, Jonathan shook his head and looked Akane straight in the eye, a broad smile still across his face, his eyes alight with new-found enthusiasm.

"Well, I assume you already know - but there is a certain girl you've shown me before who is currently here in this field. I did tell Michio to watch her and her entourage in case, but no doubt they have no escape as of now. Wanted to tell you that. Also..."

He spread his arms around, exaggeratedly so -

"Thank you-."

He bowed deeply, smiling as he raised his face.

"-for enlightening me."

A blood-stained, maniacal grin.

[Five_X]

Farimah Rajavi
Zweiteturm ~ Training Room/Junk Room (?)
???

"Ah... well, hello!" is all I can manage to say as Lena cradles me in her strong arms - it reminds me of how truly powerful she is. She's just like me, in her own way, though I suppose like many others she may not have interpreted God's gift quite like I have.

The vast construct of refuse has wicked away completely into nothingness, like a flame dissipating. It leaves only traces of its existence, not not one trace of that is its smell; the room fills with the sweet scent of pomegranates, a rich fragrance that surrounds me now, clearing up my senses, blowing away the foggy haze that had afflicted me. I imagine this is simply God's unspoken message to me: you have done well today.

I can't help but let out a long, satisfied sigh, as though I'm ready to go to sleep.

In a way, I'm surprised that she's done so much for me. Am I so special to deserve this attention? I have to wonder if it's my personality and actions which keep her close to me, or the holy message I carry from God. The gospel of Mani must be spread across the land, and I know for a fact that God appreciates my serve with both sword and word, but - there's something quite special about sharing a connection with another person. I guess you could call that... being friends? It doesn't fall within my divine mandate, but I believe that two souls supporting one another are truly holy. After all, the path to Heaven, the path out of this accursed, corrupt world, is not necessarily a solitary one. I just don't know if it suits my position to make friends, rather than make honest converts. If I were to inspire people through my personality, wouldn't that mean they'reinspired by me, rather than God?

This is, in itself, a falsehood: no human can be venerated as God Himself is. We are inherently flawed, the offspring of Adam and Eve - ultimately the false creations of Satan, Ahriman, the King of Darkness, he whose names are too numerous. When God sent the First Man to expel the Darkness and destroy the beings of evil who served Satan, those beings took His Light into their bodies and mated with each other, creating Adam and Eve: the progenitors of humanity, their bodies the corrupt creation of Satan, their souls the radiant Light of the one true God. So it was that God sent Jesus to Adam and to Eve, to make them understand that His Light was inside them, and that the realm that called their own was merely that of Satan, defeated but growing stronger. Adam and Eve did not listen: they saw the images of perfection that God had created, in the forms of the Radiant Jesus and the Maiden of Light, and lusted for that perfection, believing that they could create this image for themselves - and so they mated, and the consequence was the spread of humanity, within them God's trapped Light. So He again sent Messengers, in the form of Jesus the man, and Mani the prophet, to awaken humanity to the Light within them, to the Truth that they could join Him in the Kingdom of Heaven; if they did so, if everyone embraced the Light, then the Kingdom of Darkness which we call Earth would crumble away, leaving only God's heavenly paradise.

I believe myself to be God's latest Messenger, in a dark time in which His Light is very nearly extinguished. It is my duty to save every soul in this corrupt world - and to take into my body the Light of those who cannot be saved.

I am the last hope for the Light. I cannot allow myself to be slain, nor can I allow myself to be corrupted and taken from my righteous path. For if I fail, then the Darkness will at last overcome us all, extinguishing the Light of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Looking into Lena's bright eyes, I hope that I see in her soul an awakened Light. The first soul I have awakened on my journey, a sign that I can continue and succeed. If I can save one soul, then surely I can save another, and another, until the whole world has been awakened to His Light - even if some of those souls have to be released from their bodies by my holy strength.

"Well, next time we'll be fighting beside each other, right?" I ask her, a smile on my face. There's no reason not to smile now, after all, with that foul-smelling demon gone. "Sisters should stick together! And maybe get a bit of lunch or something, for now."

But... maybe not in this room, I'd hope. It's nicer now than it was, but I feel something else coming along now, too...

[Verg Avesta]

One-Eyed Man
Shadow Vortex

No stopping. Not even for much-needed breath.

The feeling of distaste when fighting an opponent like this, a foolish clown who could never understand beings like him, made One-Eyed Man want to kill the deity only so much more. He wanted to get this over with. He wanted to strike his hands into the oozing depths of the deity and pull it apart, kicking and screaming. He wanted to devour what power it had left, take it as his own, and then continue his fight with the only one in this forgotten space who deserved it.

For a split second, the white-clad man flashed a grin, as he heard the gigantic beast rise in the distance.

"!"

As the lump of iron, sharpened and covered in the flaming purple, is thrown towards the man, he acts immediately. Even in his mind of berserk bloodlust, he knows he has to get out of the magic circle before it finishes. Therefore, he jumps straight towards the incoming sword. While the weapon is in mid-flight, he directs one perfectly aimed kick at its handle, sending it shooting through the darkness.

The god wanted to use the sword so much.

Therefore, One-Eyed Man returned it with crashing speed of sound, a meteoric arrow of death aimed straight at where his heart should have been.

And as if that wasn't enough, One-Eyed Man then fell to all-fours, springing forward while keeping himself low. While the sword would strike the deity from above, he would attack from below, with a sweeping strike ready to rip off the legs that carried the false body.