Request: I'd like to see Caim and Angelus interact with Zero and Michael. It would be interesting, seeing as how Caim and Zero are seen as remorseless killers by others and the relationship between Angelus and Michael. At least, before he became Mikhail. A one-shot would be fine.

Thanks in advance.

I know you said a one-shot would be fine but,,,,,, I'm probably going to make this into 3-4 parts lmao 0-': Also this is written reallyyyyy badly, idk if I'm gonna write in first person for the other parts. I also haven't really touched this up or anything so it's kind of just... meh )-: Enjoy tho

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Prologue – Chance Encounters

The Intoner, Zero, was what the recorders called a 'singularity'. Someone who could change the world with one simple action. Yet, her powers didn't stop there—her very being could enter and impact the world at any time and at any place, involuntarily creating a completely new timeline. She usually came into existence sometime during 997 AD, and 'usually' was once 'certainly' until a new and unexpected branch was formed. This extremely irregular singularity was born in 1080 AD, yet all five of her sisters had still existed before her, in the time they were meant to be in. The world was as if Zero was born in the past, some recorders theorising that the new and misplaced Intoner was, in fact, a reincarnation, and not as powerful of a singularity as the 997 AD Zero. There is still no evidence to the magical theory of her 'reincarnation', or her strength as a singularity, and thus she was still recorded by the Accords accordingly.

This standalone Zero's life was nothing extraordinary. In fact, it was the same; born as Rose, forced into a life of crime, was executed at the age of 17. Rose was possessed by the Flower as soon as her life left her body, essentially reviving her and using her as its puppet (an event similar to 1014 AD, where Rose was sentenced to capital punishment). The newly made Intoner threw away the name Rose and became Zero, and lived under the rule of the Flower for three years. What stands out the most about this singularity is that her life force—her will to live, one might say—was stronger than that of any other Zero. Thus, she did not try to commit suicide (as she once did in the past), which meant that her five sisters never came into existence (as is what happened in 998 AD). During the three years in which the Flower possessed the Intoner, she met the dragon, Michael, the same as if the event were to occur 100 years ago. The circumstances of which formed their alliance, however, differed greatly. The usual Zero formed a partnership with Michael so that she would have the power to kill her sisters; the irregular Zero, with no need to kill her sisters, had no need for the dragon. Although that was reality, Zero and Michael became a team for a reason unknown to the recorders, and even more mysteriously, unknown to the very Accord assigned to observe the important interaction. It was simply dismissed as a meeting beyond reason, or even destiny.

Yet another clear difference between both the regular and rare singularities is that this rare Zero formed a pact with Michael, whereas every other Zero did not. This meant that the existence of a pact between man and beast had already been implemented sometime before the Intoner was born. So far, three things have made this singularity stand out from the rest; the fact she was born in 1080, her strangely overpowering will to live, and her pact with Michael. The strangest of all these factors is certainly her will to live, since every other Zero would not hesitate to throw her own life away. This new singularity simply may have been born that way for the sake of her future; the recorders summarised that if Zero had tried to kill herself because of the Flower's hold, what was supposed to happen would never actually happen. That is what makes this particular Zero so strong—she goes against not the world, but herself, whilst being oblivious to what her actions may cause. For instance, the singularity not killing herself led to her meeting the prince of Caerleon, Caim. Zero was 19, and Caim, 24. They both lived in completely different worlds; the only things connecting them being Caerleon (where the irregular Zero and Caim both reside, albeit in very different areas), their pact partners, and the fact that both of them were singularities. To have two singularities be present in the same era was exceedingly rare, and for both of them to meet was the same as winning the lottery 796 times in a row. Luckily for the both of them, Caim's influence on the world was significantly weaker than Zero's, which made the whole situation a lot less dangerous than it could have been.

What made Caim so much weaker than Zero was the fact that he could not be born at any random time. Caim had to be the son of Gaap, had to be prince of Caerleon and had to witness his parents slaughter, all so he could wage war against the empire and the Cult of the Watchers. These restrictions rendered him trapped in the birth year of 1075 AD, with only three ways to die; in Midgard, year 1099 or 1117, or Japan, year 2003. For Caim, there is no true ending, and his influence can only reach so far. Zero, however, had much more freedom than Caim. She simply had to be born into poverty, had to have been sold to a brothel, had to murder any number of people, and had to have died to welcome the Flower's possession. This could have happened anywhere in the world, at any time, in any branch. Out of all the possibilities, Zero's chances of meeting Caim were extremely slim; yet because she was such a strong singularity, she was able to meet him. The Intoner was able to meet the prince of Caerleon, all because she didn't take her own life. It was almost as if the singularity knew that she would come into contact with Caim, and bend the world in a way it had never been bent before. As if this meeting was her reason for living, even though she couldn't have possibly known that she was destined to meet the damaged prince. What else Zero had not known, though, is just how much danger the branch was in as soon as they met.

Their meeting had the power to shatter the timeline completely.

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Prison cells are complete shitholes. Especially imperial prison cells. Trust me, I've spent a lot of time in Eastern-Midgard jails, and this dump certainly takes first place in the shittiness department. I've been trapped in here for a while now, and the imperial guards refuse to let Michael near the prison. How the fuck is he scared off by a few arrow-shooting assholes, anyway? Seriously, Michael. I'm sure the strongest dragon in the world has some kind of plan, but it's taken him fucking weeks to work out how to break me out. Just blast the whole place to smithereens, dragon! Honestly... and if the cold dark of the cell wasn't enough, the newest prisoner won't stop laughing. I only saw her briefly when she was making her way to her room, escorted by two guards. She was an elf, grinning like a madwoman and laughing with double the craziness. We made eye contact when she walked past, and with all that laughter you'd expect to see something in her eyes, yet there was nothing. All that could be seen was death, and it honestly took me off guard when I saw her. I've seen plenty of dead eyes before—I've killed enough people to recognise the emptiness—but I've never seen someone living with the eyes of a corpse. The hell was an elf doing here, anyway? And why only one? What did they do to completely murder her soul? I was curious, but not curious enough to ask her. She was crazier than I am, and she looked like the kind of person who wouldn't go down easily— which meant she was someone I didn't want to get involved with.

Her laughing hadn't stopped once since she came, and the other inmates were getting sick of it. The cell next to mine belonged to a middle-aged man, and his shouts of 'shut the fuck up' and 'we're trying to sleep' just made the elf woman laugh harder. He eventually gave up, thankfully, and her chuckles began to pipe down. The poor girl finally giggled to exhaustion. Relieved sighs breathed throughout the prison, some sighs even coming from the guards littered around the prison sector. I simply rolled my eyes, and took the new silence as an opportunity to sleep.

I dreamt of nothing.

I noticed that ever since I died, I haven't been able to dream. I only see the blackness of my eyelids, and I become painfully aware of the world around me. It's almost like I'm still awake, with only my eyes closed. I realised that the thing I missed the most about being alive was being asleep. In a way, dreams were my salvation; a temporary escape from the cruelness of the world. From all the betrayal, the men, the warped justice. And now, I can't escape. Although, life as Zero wasn't so bad—I had Michael now. Michael... I wonder what he's doing right now. I haven't spoken to him in case the guards found out I had a pact-beast, but I missed him. I've always been with Michael—we were with each other every day, doing things every girl and her dragon would do; getting into trouble, razing and murdering, Michael breaking me out of various prisons whenever I got caught... Which wasn't often, mind you. And the jails I were normally sent to were small and insignificant; not this giant tower of extreme defence. I'm not surprised I wound up here, though. I've killed lots of people in order to survive. Now I have to keep killing to keep my dragon alive; afterall, if I were to die, Michael would too. Such is the downside to any pact between man and monster. Suddenly, laugher interrupted my faux-dream thoughts.

That fucking elf.

She woke up the entire sector. Everyone was banging against their bar doors, groaning and yelling at her to shut up. I couldn't sleep anymore, not with all this noise. I hate everyone in this stupid fucking jail. That crazy bitch honestly made me want to hang myself, and I'm sure everyone else felt the same. Eventually, everyone quietened down, the only noise being the elf woman laughing like a maniac. Two guards with glowing red eyes sauntered into the sector, pausing in front of my cell to talk to one another.

"No matter how much I hear it, I can't abide that voice." The shortest spoke, armoured body shifting uncomfortably. He was here yesterday with the same partner.

"Is that so? I've grown fond of it, I have." The taller guard said, accent heavy with imperial culture.

"Long as it's a woman, huh? You're the odd one, liking an elf like that." His partner spoke, arms motioning in the direction of the elf's cell, "Have you seen her eyes? Pretty scary, if you ask me. Even when she smiles, they're dead."

"Me, I feel sorry for her. Better for her if she had died with the rest of her family." He scoffed, eyes glowing a vibrant ruby red. The short guard shrugged, and both men paused to listen to the psychotic laughter emanating from the back of the prison sect. I watched their eyes, heads hidden under unique iron helmets. The tall imperial sighed, "Right, then. Let's go settle her down."

"Careful, mate! She'll get you for sure!" The shorter one shouted, panic evident in his shaky voice. His partner's eyes smiled.

"That's all right. We're not her type, now, are we?" He replied, taking a few steps forward. Suddenly, the ground and walls started to tremble. An earthquake? Michael?

"What the-!" The shortest one shouted, steadying himself for whatever was coming.

"Bloody hell! The Union! They're attacking!" His red-eyed partner shouted, getting blasted away by the force of whatever had just hit the prison. The elf's laughing had been cut short, and all the cells in my sight were reduced to rubble. Instantly, my room flew apart—crushing me underneath the wreckahe in the process. It was a bomb, there was fire everywhere, the structural skeleton of the building being all that remained amongst the flame and rubble. My eyesight was quickly fading and I could feel my body breaking under the weight of the wall and ceiling, but I managed to crawl forward using my bloodied and near-broken arms. Huffing, I pulled my head out from the collapsed bricks, eyes scanning the corpses strewn across the ruins. My eyes landed on where the elf woman's cell once stood. She wasn't laughing anymore, her body limp against the ground. A few pained groans escaped her mouth, showing me that she was still alive—but barely. Two orbs rose up through the blaze and fallen bricks, one blue and the other a warm gold. They stopped in front of the woman, chasing each other in an unending dance.

"It is too soon for you to die," spoke a masculine voice, the orb of fire shooting up into the air, "Now, you will come with us." The two orbs floated in front of the injured woman, as she sat up and eyed them with suspicion. Oh, this was the beginning of a pact. I scrambled from the wreckage, biting my lip to stop myself from yelling out in pain. I twisted my head to look over at my legs, only to see that I was completely missing my left leg. Blood was pouring out from raw flesh—spurting everywhere, like a fountain, unending, almost black. I couldn't feel my right leg, my arms, and the numbness started spreading all over. I was dying of blood loss.

Once I felt my entire being go numb, a sharp pain shot through my entire body. The Flower. That fucking Flower.

The Flower sprouted forth from my open muscles, and I screamed in pain. An arm came out. A head. A body, covered in blood. It was me. This is the second time I've revived, bathed in the Flower's blood, filled with overwhelming pain. Something was different this time, though. My right eye hurt like a bitch. I brought my hand up to touch it, finding that not only was I blind in that eye, but I had no eye at all. It was the Flower, showing its putrid self to the entire world. Wincing as I touched the petals, I decided to leave it be for the time being—I'll dig it out of my skull later. I looked down at my previous body, dirtied and broken. I removed its clothes, donning my usual attire over my newly born and bloodied body. I looked to the side, making eye contact with the newly-healed elf woman I had seen in person only once before. Her eyes were lifeless, and she began muttering to herself.

"Dead, dead." She spoke, enough for me to hear over the burning fire, "They are all dead..." I simply watched her, silent, as she looked down at her hands. "Uhh... Ahh..." she breathed, her gaze rising up once more to take in the scenery around the two of us. She locked eyes with me once more, the life in them slowly returning. "... A light? I saw it." She said, speaking to no one in particular. I was still silent, wary around the unscathed elven woman. Could the light she was talking about be the two orbs that came out of nowhere? Actually, where in the world did they go? Suddenly, she crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach and moaning in pain. If she really did form a pact whilst I was regenerating... then what did she sacrifice for their power? I looked down at her fallen form, taking steps over the mess of corpses to get closer to her. Then I heard footsteps, marching, more than thirty pairs of feet surrounding the outside of the jail. I clicked my tongue, diving under the cover of a pile of bricks. The smoke in the air was slowly dissipating, the fire becoming weaker as time slowly began to pass. The elven lady lay crouched on the ground still, and I kept myself low as well. If I was caught without my dragonbone sword in this state, I would surely be overwhelmed and caught again. I looked above, single eye calling out for oxygen, and scanned the sky for any sign of Union forces. There was a dragon in the night sky—a silhouette different from Michael's, much to my despair. I glanced over to the black-haired elf. She was muttering something, but I couldn't hear it over the crackling of the dying flames. Actually, I couldn't hear anything other than the fire—the marching had ceased without me noticing. The woman got up silently, walking towards me. I stood up to meet her, readying myself for whatever she had coming. Instead she asked me a question, the two floating spirits of fire and water hovering by her sides.

"Are there any children?" Her voice cooed dreamily, her elven accent thicker than the smoke in the clouds. I raised a single brow.

"... The fuck do you mean?" I coughed out, voice raspy from the fierce air, "If there are any, they'd be in a different sector." Why was I even telling her this? Looking into her eyes, what was once death was now hunger. Her brows furrowed, gaze cast beyond and at the Flower I had come out of. She pointed past me, head tilting to the right.

"What's that?" She queried, stepping past me. I turned and followed her, figuring it would be more beneficial for me if I stayed close to someone with a pact-beast close by. I shrugged, figuring I should at least tell her. I wasn't normally this talkative—maybe it was all the energy that came with getting regenerated wanting to be released.

"My dead body." I answered casually, stepping over a dismembered hand. We quickly approached my freshly forgotten corpse, and I watched with a morbid curiosity wondering what the hell she wanted with it.

"Children are so much sweeter, but..." She started, grabbing my naked corpse and pulling it closer towards her, "I guess an adult will do."

And then she bit down on it, ripping apart its shoulder and chewing on its raw flesh. Blood dripped carelessly down her chin and on her shirt, my old corpse twitching at the unexpected contact. I stared with a blank expression before casually looking away. This wasn't what I was expecting, but I wasn't really surprised either. This jail was reserved for the crazy and the unwillingly captured, after all. Honestly, I was disgusted, but I let the cannibal elf feed on my dead self to her heart's content. Eventually her excited face turned into that of a scowl as she began digging into my left thigh, and she quickly spat out the meat with disgust. The Flower's toxins must have been spreading through my body slowly, making the old me taste like shit.

"Adults taste so..." She got up from her knees, wiping the blood away from her mouth, "... disgusting." I looked her up and down, partly in disbelief and partly in my own disgust. Don't all humans taste like asshole anyway? "Maybe it's just you." She smirked, looking at me. I simply shrugged my shoulders, neither in agreement or disagreement. Who was I to testify whether or not I tasted better, or worse, than the average human? I snorted, not saying a word. I turned from her, stepping through the burned arch that was once the gate to the sect, before quickly withdrawing at the sight of twin silhouettes. There were two people; an old man with an intricately marked scalp, and a boy a little older than me with dark brown hair. The older man was mumbling something about 'having faith' and 'finding the voice', whereas his much younger companion didn't even bother to acknowledge him. I quickly pressed myself against a miraculously intact pillar, scanning the area and the sky. Much to my surprise, the dragon that was once so far away hovered above the prison and looked down at the partners I was hiding from. The cannibal noirette I left behind walked past me, and faced the two men as if she had expected their arrival. Both parties slowly met, only a few steps apart.

"You too have a pact-beast. What is your name?" The old man warbled, voice warped with time. His face was serious, unchanging. The elven woman swayed at his words, meeting his gaze with an unreadable stare.

"Arioch." She spoke slowly, almost as if she was in a dream. The old man's eyes hardened.

"You surrendered your womb." He spoke out of the blue, making Arioch face him properly for a moment. Her attention was quickly drawn from the tall man to the younger one, and she strolled towards her new target.

"Tell me. Are there any children here?" She asked with a carefree smile, uncomfortably close to the brunet before her. He remained silent; the red dragon that had been monitoring them landed behind him.

"Fear not; they have been evacuated." The elder spoke on behalf of the silent, armour-clad brunet. The cannibal elf sauntered over to the speaker, arms harmlessly swaying about.

"So, there are none here? A pity. They're so sweet..." She replied, looking back towards her pact-beasts. Her eyes flew past those of the two elemental orbs and met with mine, a gentle smile plastered on her face. I gave her a blank stare, unsure if her expression was an invitation to join them or not. I instead stood my ground, deciding it would be easier to spy on the conversation than to actually participate. The old guy looks like the living embodiment of a headache, anyway. Both partners eyed Arioch suspiciously, the elder tightening his grasp on his staff. Without warning, the noirette turned and lunged at the young man, grabbing him by the arm and positioning her mouth above his clothed shoulder. "... But an adult will suffice."

Without warning, she sunk her teeth into the young adult's skin, causing him to step backwards in surprise. He remained completely silent as she began to tear the fabric from his shoulder, trying her best to reach his fresh skin.

"Get back, elf!" A feminine voice resounded through my skull, and I looked up at the dragon in surprise. It was the red monster that had shouted—but how? Was it one of the men's pact-beasts?

Immediately after the giant dragon's warning, the sage started to chant something in a foreign language; "Hom gallech ne'allay fray natila," over and over as sigils twirled around his staff. Arioch ignored the chanting and continued to bury her mouth into the surprised boy's flesh, growing more ravenous by the second. The brunet tried to push her off, but even his strength couldn't compete with that of the elf's. When the third chant came, Arioch trembled in pain and fell to the floor. Unconsciously, I took three steps forward, drawn to the crowd for a reason unknown to me. I remained unnoticed as they watched the cannibal writhe on the ground, her panicked moans and groans filling the heavy air.

"This lock spell will hold her, but for how long I cannot say." The tattooed sage spoke, lowering his staff and loosening his tough grip on the wood, "I will take her with me for her own good, as well as for others around her."

"Speaking of 'others around her'..." the great dragon spoke up, making eye contact with me. Her two, golden eyes pierced my single cerise one. "... the elf was not alone."

The two followed the dragon's stare and their eyes met me, standing a ways in front of the pillar I had previously hidden behind. I lifted my chin up, peering down at the group before me. Tattoo-head was the first to speak up, face as serious as ever.

"What is your name, young lady?" he queried, no obvious suspicion evident in his voice. I scowled in response, strolling forward as the elf on the ground once did.

"...Nothing important." I responded, eyes unblinking, boring deep into his milky optics. He nodded, blinking in hopes of breaking the tension.

"You have a pact-beast, yet I cannot deduce what you traded away." He continued, posture loose and harmless, "where is your absent pact-beast?"

"That's a bit personal, don't you think?" I spat, inching forward until I was a ruler's length away from Arioch's constricted form. "Tell me something about yourself first. Who are you? Who is he?" I said, tilting my head in the direction of the silent man. The elder passively raised his free hand in the air, telling me that he meant no harm.

"I am the hierarch Verdelet," he replied before motioning to his companion, "and this is prince Caim of Caerleon." My frown quickly withered away. The hierarch, and the prince of Caerleon, right here, in front of me? Why are they here? I shook my head, finding the whole situation to be unbelievable. Laughable, even. I couldn't care less about the prince, the hierarch, or their pact-beasts. I didn't even care about what they were going to do with Arioch. I just want to find Michael, get my dragonbone sword and continue on with my life. I wouldn't be able to do any of that if I told them my name; they would know who I am. Not that that really matters—I could easily take them all out with my bare hands. How strong could an old man and some pampered prince be?

"... Name's Zero." I finally replied, hands resting by my side. "And my pact-beast is none of your business." I sniggered, stance open and uncaring. Caim and the dragon instantly became wary, most likely communicating through some kind of link between the two. I eyed them and shrugged, showing them I really don't care about whatever suspicions they may have.

"You knew Arioch?" Verdelet questioned, dismissing my incompliance to his previous question. I snorted, resting the back of my head on newly raised palms.

"No." I replied bluntly. He seemed shocked at my answer, and Caim's eyes gave away the annoyance he was feeling towards me.

"Yet you were in the same gaol?" Verdelet garbled, honestly surprised. I glared at him, wishing he would just shut up.

"You talk too much, hierarch." I hissed, offensive stance engaged. Caim could tell what I was about to do and immediately drew his sword, jumping in front of the tattooed hierarch. His eyes glowed with an unbridled rage—it was as if he was telling me not to kill the old man.

"Zero..." Verdelet grumbled, shaking his head in disappointment, "Have you no faith in the gods? You have slaughtered hundreds, but for what aim?"

"With what power." The dragon corrected, reptilian eyes scanning my features. I stood unmoving, not giving anything away. Yet still, the red dragon came to a realisation all on her own, "... Michael?" I flinched at his name.

How the hell did she know Michael?

My awkward response seemed to evade the milky eyes of Verdelet and the pained eyes of Arioch, but Caim and the dragon noticed every movement I made. The red beast let out a draconic smirk.

"Michael..." She repeated, a reminiscing look carved into her scaly face. She knows Michael? Why didn't he say anything about her? I gritted my teeth, blood temperature rising at every mention of his name. Caim raised a questioning brow, standing his ground in front of Verdelet.

"What the hell do you know about Michael?" I interrogated, the flower in my socket sending an ebbing pain throughout my body.

"To think Michael would have such a similar pact-partner..." She continued emphasising every syllable in my partner's name, carrying on to herself as if I had never said a word. How dare she mock me. How dare she bring up Michael? My patience was running thin, and I wanted to get them all out of the way already. Actually, what the hell? Normally I would have dealt with them by now. Why is every part of me telling me to not harm them? Verdelet must have sensed my inner conflict and anger, as he brought up his staff and held it in front of him.

"Hom gallech ne'allay fray natila," he began, and I simply squinted at him. He wants to bind me like he did Arioch? He thinks he can? I jumped over Caim, completely flying over his broadsword and landing on the other side. I reached out to grab the marked hierarch's throat, but I could feel an overbearing rage about to tear right through my back. I ducked out of the way, sliding underneath the bloodlust that had been Caim's sword and standing up to meet the Caerleon prince's face. His stance, his eyes...

He was just like me.

His features were enough to distract me, and I felt myself being locked by an invisible force. The pain was horrendous—nothing compared to my regeneration or my right eye, but enough to bring me to my knees and bind me like the cannibal fallen at my side. I furrowed my brows, trying my hardest to stay awake, my vision fading.

The last thing I saw was a sick smirk on the prince's face, before my eyes closed completely.