The Room JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE was in was not normal, by any means. For one, the Space seemed to warp and shift, or was it always that way?

It had always been that way. The power of JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE was so great as to warp time itself. But the man that stood there saw the time changing, warping. Reality bending, to suit the needs of JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE. He had always seen it, will always see it. He saw the timeline shift. Black walls changed to gray, then a star-filled sky.

"JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE, Great Weaver. You are very powerful, and is master of the Three-Moon initiative, their God."

"What… is… it… you… are… here…. For…?" His weary mandibles croaked out.

"JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE, I ask of you to please redirect the following persons to the afterlife of New Jerusalem. First, Magnus Steelsoul. His soul shall be delivered to you. While several other persons will come. I will keep you notified."

"Why… should… I… help… you…?" His seven million eyes looked apprehensive.

"Lord, JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE, you are most powerful. However, I am an agent of an agency even more powerful. They recruit all variety of lifeforms, non-lifeforms, and anti-lifeforms. I have their backing. Harming me or otherwise hindering my mission, namely to detain… a lifeform, no. I dare not call it life; it drains from life to exist. It is more akin to a Virus. I will not invoke its name. It has a nasty habit of knowing far too much, after all. In any case, this will provoke the agency's wrath. I would rather not."
"Is… this… a… threat?"

"Just as my ceaseless immortality is a curse, it is a blessing. It is widely known that I cannot die, I've tried myself. I assure you, I have plenty of time and resources to compensate you handsomely. If I find myself unable to do it at first, I will go at it again and again until I obtain what you desire. So what is it that you would want, my lord?"

"I… shall… confer."

"Good. Perhaps I could offer assistance with the complete destruction of the Witch-Queen, her name be damned?"

"Yes…"

"Then it is settled. Let's create the contract. You could do this for me and not alter the contract to your own ends, I assume? I have heard you are a credible lord. I would rather not shatter this assumption. I shall lend to you the services of one of my lesser mercenaries, Providence, the Profaned God. While I've been trying to fire her for a while now due to ethical concerns, I feel that I could still get a few more good missions out of her. Goodbye, and I wish you luck. Long live Humanity, Long live the IMPENETRABLE."

Normansson ticked off a box from a checklist. It is written in Arial font, clearly stating in English:

"Negotiate Afterlife for Gappies. JALAKÅRA OF THE IMPENETRABLE is nice choice."

The next line says, hastily scribbled unlike the first, and haphazardly squeezed into the lines in a language that is not the one shown here; it is translated for your convenience.

"Harness the living weapon (note: seems like a nice kid, if a bit lonely. make appeal to humanity, bring a couple board games, bring sister and rest of mansion crew if possible mandatory.)"

And so he did. Before he did, though, he hastily vanished and reappeared a moment later with a glass bottle full of liquid. Wonder what it could be…

Teleporting once more and reappearing unceremoniously out of the courtroom, he comes face to face with Hong Meiling.

"I can't let you through. Who are you, anyway?" Hong Meiling says.

"That is irrelevant. I'll let myself through. Inform the Mistress she has a new guest, and that he brings gifts of fun and games." Normansson, his mouth and eyebrows flat and cold. He does not look very fun whatsoever, but do not assume he is incapable of having fun.

"Hey!"

Once again, an unceremonious teleportation. He vanishes on the spot, reappearing at the Mansion's primary gates, stepping aside to let Meiling through. Hong Meiling fails to notice him, somehow. It was probably just good luck on Normansson's part. Beads of sweat fall off Normansson. He notes Trench Coat and Trilby hat was a very poor choice of clothing in late Summer, where it was still hot. He checks his watch, Hammer and Anvil engraved onto it.

"Anyone in here?"

The Mansion of the Devil is wide and cold, far too big on the inside. A cool breeze, directly due to the size of the mansion, relieves him for just a moment. Then it becomes apparent that his clothes are too thin. The price to pay for such attire, he hoped to fit in but now he's hot and cold, at the same time.

Click, Clack, as the shoes of the thin man creates sounds in the Great Library. He explores the mansion, never quite running into anyone.

"Shouldn't there be a Scarlet Devil in here? And why is this place so damned huge?", as he muttered to himself. Jesus, this man does do a lot of expository talking-to-himself. He briefly considers using a 'Needle', a handy word for a fancy Mekhanite gadget that collapsed manifolds in space, the full name being 'Neutralization Device for Time-Space Anomalies and Manifolds'.

Click, Click, Click then he sees it. A small, blue haired... 11-year-old loli vampire. This was nothing like what he had expected (she was supposed to be older), but he could work with it.

"Ah! I assume Hong Meiling filled you in. Alright. I know you're a clever lady. Mistress and mighty vampire, Queen of the Night."

Remilia's face scrunched up and she raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Her confusion was completely understandable. After all, this strange thin man, who happened to be quite handsome, had walked into her mansion undetected, who had no magical powers whatsoever and appeared to be completely human, but looks were indeed deceiving. Also, he was tall. Creepy tall, not the good kind tall.

The Vampire's expression hardens. She senses… something wrong with him. She's absolutely right, there is something very wrong with him. He just seems off and inhuman, even if he seems benevolent.

"So Meiling didn't fill you in? Oh dear, this will be complicated. I'm sorry that I couldn't send you a letter to prepare, I was short on time and I barely remembered. In any case, I brought a gift. Dandelion Wine, my friend makes good wine and I believe that it would make a nice gift. You have to taste it to believe it."

"Come in! I shall accommodate you as best I can." Remilia says, but the air is tense. Normansson senses a trap; Remilia would never let him in so easily.

Sakuya brings them tea, and the thin man acknowledges her with a small

"Thank you."

Then she vanishes and reappears, but Normansson could see what happened. The Maid surveyed him, critically looking at him, then with a mix of revulsion and great fear, time unfreezes. He glares at her during the whole non-time, only staring.

She opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it again. That was a wise decision.

"My dear Mistress, I hate to talk so much. However, I have seen the great destructive potential of your sister. Flandre, I think she is called. Her destructive powers are incredible."

"Have you come to exploit her power? I have the duty to protect her. If your goal is to use her for your own ends, I will not allow it."

"My Lady, I possess far more destructive weapons. If I wanted a weapon, I would order thousands of Beryllium Bronze-Cosmilite alloy Ingots and build myself a computerized clockwork legion in perfect coordination. My most dangerous weapon I cannot invoke, for its very mention is destructive to reality. In all frankness, she would make a very bad weapon; she has a conscience, a Heart for emotions, anger, kindness, love. She's a good kid, even if her mental state is… questionable. I applaud her sanity despite being in the basement for 500 years, she's a bit off but not completely off her rocker."

"You might be lying. How can I know that you won't use her, manipulate her?"

The next words are not spoken, but rather worms her way into her mind like a thousand parasites. It is like a thousand beetles. Absolute.

themaidunderstandsbetterthanyoudo

itisgoodthatsheknowsjustenough

itservesourmutualinterestsbeingverygoodformeandjustasgoodforyou

itwillbenefitbothofus

askher

Remilia is understandably spooked. Then, again.

thatcamefromme

thetallman

theonewiththewine

nowaskthemaidanddrinkthewine

thequestionsaremoreimportantthantheanswersandthewinepleasesthetongue

Now, poor Remilia has no idea what to ask.

Sakuya intervenes and whispers.

"A monster is in the room. He wants to negotiate."

sheispartiallycorrect

iamnotamonster

iamenlightenedandsuperiortohumansandyoukaialike

isimplyam

butyoumaytreatmeasyouwouldamonster

itismutuallybeneficial

nowdrinkyougoddamngothlolita

Remilia is understandably very scared. She thinks she is going insane.

"Haha! My lady. What I am saying is treat me like one of your own! We're all monsters here, in all honestly. Aren't we?"

"You're not going to survive very long with the idea that Youkai are monsters."

"Youkai are products of an inevitable reality, albeit not a good reality. No; what I am saying is far more personal."

"…what?"

He pretends not to hear and pours Remilia a glass of wine, and one for himself.

"For our continued prosperity and mutual cooperation!"

He downs the glass.

Soon, Remilia drinks as well. She does not want to, but she does not want to seem rude to an entity who might as well be incredibly powerful.

Both sides drink measuredly, but the air is less tense and more casual. Drinks tend to do that.

"I heard about this one time where you turned the sky red. Care to explain?" The thin man chuckles out.

"I was being stupid… fufufu. Now let me ask you a question. I've never heard of you; you have not existed in Politics for years on end. Yet if you are as powerful as you claim... you would have most certainly attracted attention."

"I'm new. I have no idea what's going on; all my informants gave me inaccurate information. My lady, I will trust you with an important secret. If you divulge what I am about to tell you, I will have you fed to my God Devourer. I am powerful. I am great. I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. None of what I know matches up with what I see. The info I was provided by my employer is borderline useless, and my own research has been scarcely an improvement. I'm making 90% of this up as I go along. And goddamn it, I need your help. I want to arrange a meeting with yourself, most of the mansion crew, and your dear sister. I would rather like to be friend with one of the most knowledgeable and powerful factions in Gensokyo."

"Yes, yes, but you still haven't proved you aren't making this all up."

"I get the drill. Here's another present. Have fun. It's dark out, as I expected. I'll have to take the fast way out, taking a nice, long night walk might result in me having to kill. Auf Wiedersehen!"

Remilia examines the "present". It is a metal box with weird engravings like a Hammer and Anvil. There are words written on it.

"INSTANT DREADNOUGHT-ANGEL: PRESS HERE".

Predictably, curiosity gets the better of her.

Normansson hears large cracking sounds. Then, he does a 180-degree turn to face the miniaturized Dreadnought-Angel that had come to blow the roof off the SDM. Its 8 great twin-turrets were clearly railguns, probably being able to fire with the explosive force of 200-250 tons of TNT. Toys. The countless secondaries were but barbaric Naval cannons. Nowhere near the true glory of the CotBG Dreadnought-Angels, and lacking in comparison.

"I knew it was fishy..."

He flips out a disc, and a hologram of none other than a smiley face pops out.

"AIC Smiley, bring up the webpage I was reading on instant dreadnought-angels."

"Right! I'm bringing it up now!" The voice is as cheerful as it is disturbing.

"As I expected. I hate GAW, and I hate their trolling. LADY REMILIA, I'M GOING TO NEED THAT BACK!"