Her appearance made [Underground New York] abuzz with excitement. Certain artefacts in the Sanctum of New York, the most magically secure place this side of the equator, started to hum: alarm after alarm shooting up left and right.

What's weird was how easy it was for the Ancient One to locate this possible threat: a simple scrying spell and she was staring at a girl with platinum blonde hair.

The Ancient One can't say for certainty that she was being discreet in checking up on this woman. It was her subtle movements: the girl never made any attempt to flaunt her power, but she never also made any attempt to hide her unbridled magic. Like this demon knew she was being watched and was daring the onlooker to make the first move.

It was a predator versus another predator: the proud and noble lion against the subtle but dignified black panther.

It wasn't unnerving but the Ancient One, out of curiosity, ended up checking in on the happenings of the demon–like how she was able to work with a somewhat functional alliance with the current incarnation of the Iron Fist. The Chinese Sanctorum advised to let it be: the demon could be the yang to the Iron Fist's yin; a foil, an anti-thesis, or at the very least a baby sitter.

In the end, the Ancient One let it be. Besides, she had more important issues to think about, especially since the Ancient One entertained thoughts of stepping down.

Going through a certain restaurant's door and into another pocket dimension (that really isn't a pocket dimension, mind you) some ancient and noble families felt an odd sense of familial tie to the person in question. Certain heads of such families even questioned if this was some sort of anti-divine intervention that made them wonder if their successors were worthy because the woman on the other side of the portal was just so qualified.

In fact, some (otherwise dormant) families ended up getting back some of their clout with just her appearance alone. Like the [Ancient and Most Noble House of Halphas]. Her appearance made quite a stir in the very delicate peaceful-no, non-chaotic times their dimension has ever seen.

Amidst all this, Mirajane was unaware (or is she?) of all the people who clamored to get a glimpse of the new powerhouse of the dimension.

Satana Hellstorm was intrigued. Her flyer was found by someone. Then again magical people and blind people should be able too, but in the few weeks since she's posted the ad only three took up the request: two of which were now currently coursing through her veins. Not to say that she didn't need the extra hand, but the previous two applicants were so obvious about their desire to use her as a stepping stone to unimaginable power that she just had to do the deed first. One does not simply be the daughter of The Devil and not have others wanting to use you. Dog eat dog world and all that.

Honestly she would've preferred to have a blind employee because blind people wouldn't be able to see that her clientele were more or less otherworldly in nature, but the new applicant looks promising. She was nice, friendly and had a certain fire within her that reminded her of her father and other demonic titans. But that is to say that Mirajane Strauss also reminded her, Satana Hellstorm, of her brother. If she knew any better, Mirajane was exactly like her brother. Dark on the inside, light on the inside. Like it was Mirajane's choice to be good.

In any case, Satana wanted to see what Mirajane could do: what else aside from serving and stirring drinks were she able to do?

Mirajane was not as thick as she put herself out to be. She wasn't naïve, nor was she blind. She knew she was being watched, she knew forces were trying to get a hold of her, and she knew others wanted to use her. It's not a matter of her being unable to do anything, it's a matter of her refusing to do anything she didn't want to do.

Some were subtle, like that powerful one who checked up on her with Wizard Saint-level magics. Others, not so much. Whenever the sun was out, these forces couldn't be any more obvious. Erza was the better tracker but Mirajane was no slouch in that regards either. The first thing to tailing another mage was learning how to mask your magic, and these people not only did not hid their magic, it was like they were wearing megaphones yelling to the world that they were there.

They leaped from building to building, hid under the shadows and some camped outside Matt's apartment; some even went so far as to tail her. These were all acceptable actions if they knew how to control their magic. All they did made her demons mock their efforts. Lilith merely chuckled inside her head and assured her that Mirajane will not be harmed. Halphas merely sighed and told her to only call her if the enemies were strong. Sitri... Sitri didn't even bother with Mirajane's stalkers, calling her stalkers something lower than an insect. Her lesser demons were abuzz and clamoring for Mirajane's attention, all desiring for her to use their power but Mirajane told them no–at least not yet.

Because those who followed her were acting suspicious yes, but they haven't done anything bad yet.

Mirajane felt a stir in the air.

Of course, there were always idiots who didn't heed the signs.

Mirajane smiled as the figures before her blocked her path. "Hi! I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave me be."

Two figures stood before her. Judging from their builds, they were men. They were in cloaks not unlike those from her world. For a minute, Mirajane thought they were from Earth Land but that wasn't the case. They had magic, or more magic than the average person here, but that's all there is to it. Magic should not be used as a measure of one's place of origin, because while most of the population were below par in magical levels, there were quite the handful of individuals who could give her difficulty should Mirajane come face-to-face to them.

"Our mistress does not appreciate usurpers." one of them said, a hiss forming every time the 's' sound was pronounced.

"I'm sorry?" Mirajane tilted her head. She adjusted the ecobag that contained her uniform slung on her shoulder. It's new and she doesn't want to destroy it.

"You're very existence is a threat to our queen's power!" They removed their hoods and showed their faces.

Mirajane grew concerned at the sight of their teeth.

Because they were fangs.

Charles Xavier exited Cerebro. Forty fledging humans have awakened their power. That was 400% more than what was expected. Before, the number of awakenings can be totaled with just one hand, and that's for an entire year. Now, Xavier Institute was welcoming more and more recruits. Just the other day, twelve out of the thirty mutants Xavier was able to get a hold of entered the school.

"This is concerning," Charles told to a redhead beside him.

"What is?" Jean Grey asked.

"The more mutants that awaken, the more people Erik might sway to his side."

Once upon a time, Erik and Charles were allies with a common goal. And Charles really did believe that his efforts —getting mutants, schooling them, and honing their powers— were for the benefit of not just mutantkind but also for the world as a whole. Erik didn't; he disagreed with Charles' methods.

Erik also did not share his worldviews. His thoughts with regards to mutantkind were to establish a place where they could live in peace. Noble it might be, his execution of such a dream left a lot to be desired. Because Erik wanted mutantkind to stand above those of humans. It's disheartening to have such a charismatic man on the opposite end Charle's of the politcal spectrum. And as the days pass so do the number of people joining his cause.

Charles can only hope that a world where no conflict between humans and mutants happen soon because he was sure that as Erik's influence grew stronger, the more the world's balance tip towards conflict.

"Let's just do what we can." Jean said, sighing.

"Yes, I suppose we should." he smiled at his protégé. "How's the recruitment drive for instructors?"

Jean Grey's face grew solemn, "Not as good. We've only able to get two."

Charles hummed, "Perhaps I should try recruiting Ms. Strauss again?"

Jean Grey didn't say anything. To say that Mirajane Strauss potential was off the charts was an understatement. Whenever she used Cerebro, Mirajane's mental power was unlike anything she's ever seen. Then again, any proficient telepath knew how to hide their trail against other telepaths. It appeared that Mirajane could be a telepath but she flaunted her power. And such an action was gaudy and tactless in Jean's eyes even though she thought of Mirajane as a nice girl.

"I can read your mind Jean," Charles said, a smile forming on his lips. They stopped in front of an elevator.

"I-you-how?" Jean stammered, caught off-guard. She was sure that no one was peeking into her mind, an exercise that Charles taught her since childhood. Reeling in one's power was one way of improving it, Charles told her. And by now, she'd like to believe that the Professor was having more and more difficulty getting inside her head.

"You've a much protected mind, Jean," Charles said as he pushed the elevator button. The door opened and Charles entered inside. "But you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're still upset that Scott found Ms. Strauss to be rather endearing."

Jean crossed her arms, recalling how Mirajane's sunny disposition made Scott's cheeks go pink. "I don't." She then followed Charles' lead and entered the elevator too.

"As you say, Jean. As you say."

Mirajane was running now. Good thing her uniform's tucked neatly on her ecobag because she just couldn't handle going home with a ruined uniform.

Those who chased her were something akin to the undead, Halpas told her. A being whose soul was corrupted and now served its progenitor. Another demon told her that this particular brand of undead likes to feed on the blood of others. Loyal to a fault, they were the perfect disposable men because in turn, they get a boost in overall strength.

When asked if Mirajane can handle them, most (if not all) the demons she's tamed laughed, "You'd have to be some special kind of idiot to be defeated by such lowly insects."

If so, why was she running then? Her pacifism. Much as her demons hated her for being reactive rather than proactive, it was her choice to be good. And despite their very core being evil, her demons respected her for that.

She was running for her pursuers' safety. Because once she's showed her true power, she–

Mirajane paused. Can she use her powers here? If she recalled Wendy's tale, the [Dragon Slayer] couldn't use any of her magic in Edolas until she was given some medicine by Mystogan. Is her power affected by the difference of the [Laws of Magic] here?

Slowing down a little, she tried to do an incomplete transformation, with her arm first.

In her psyche, the demons she's tamed clamored for her attention. At least the lesser ones.

Her go-to demon accepted her call, earning disappointed shrieks from the demons within her. This demon, her demon of choice, was the inner demon that was present the moment one was born. It represented humanity's capacity for evil, and thus why this demon was so compatible to her–because this demon was a part of her. It was her evil given form. It was:

"[Satan Soul]."

Her magic reacted, mixing with the demon essence. For a moment, Mirajane didn't feel anything but then there was the unmistakable hum of magic. Magic that began to circulate in her veins. But her appearance didn't change.

She willed that only her dominant hand would transform but nothing happened. Mirajane flexed her hand, making sure it worked properly. No problem. But why didn't she transform?

She tried testing it out by punching the ground.

Frigga was beside Heimdall. After his report of the appearance of the [Anomaly], Frigga took it upon herself to monitor the developments. Her husband was well-versed with wars and running kingdoms, but magic and demonology? That was Frigga's forte. Well maybe not so much with demonology but her proficiency with it certainly eclipsed Odin's.

"The question now is: is she a puppet, a vessel or a homunculus?" Frigga whispered to herself as she viewed the [Anomaly]. The demon in question landed a blow on the earth, creating a rumble and disorienting her pursuers.

After Heimdall's emergency report of the [Anomaly] being attacked, Frigga came here as fast as she could.

The power's still there, Mirajane thought, but she wondered if she still had the fortitude that was given whenever she equipped her demons. She initially thought of getting hit but she didn't want to risk it.

Instead, she did the next best thing: canceling her [Satan Soul] before picking another demon. The demons again bellowed for attention–the demon that was usually chosen wasn't working properly. It now was their time to shine.

Mirajane divided her attention between her pursuers and choosing the demon to equip.

Her pursuers, initially wary since Mirajane was able to rattle the earth with just her bare fist, steeled their ground. They carried the noblest orders of their leader. Their queen, their everything. They would not fail. Besides, they've been going easy on their prey, since what threat would this woman pose to their mistress?

The pursuers obviously did not feel what their leader felt when Mirajane arrived. They were just peons; expendable resources to the leader's underground empire. Their queen simply sent these peons out to die because she wanted to see what Mirajane's powers were.

The ancient demons Mirajane had on her roster all through the ruse, of course. It was initially amusing seeing their master run from such lowly creatures. Her kindness knew no bounds. But it's starting to grate on their nerves. The prey chased after the predator? The audacity. Their pride wouldn't allow it.

So when Mirajane paused to choose, the stronger ones sprang forth, each causing a stir on their own. That is, until, she answered.

"Let me…"

Mirajane frowned when this particular demon volunteered herself.

Unfortunately, because Mirajane didn't have time to choose another one, she permitted it. Her power coursed within the platinum blonde, weaving with Mirajane's magic. Her entrance made the ambient magic buzz in excitement. It was like all the world's curses were singing as she made herself manifest.

Except…

Agatha Harkness hummed from her scrying tool. Of course Camilla would make the first move. The ancient vampire was territorial. Camilla called herself a queen, but she was more like a warlord, a tyrant even. All those who entered her realm ended up getting swallowed by her influence, power, or worse.

The moment the platinum blonde manifested her powers, Agatha was already viewing through her tools. Might as well see what this demon could do. She needed to assess if the powerhouse was a threat or not. What she saw did not answer that, but it certainly did not disappoint her either.

The Ancient One exhaled, which earned unexpected curious glances from her apprentices. Baron Mordo especially, he saw something new appearing on his master's face: frustration.

This woman, this Mirajane Strauss, was turning out to be very troublesome.

BGM: No Game No Life: Izuna
watch?v=kIW64eJr_Oc

"All the world's [Curses]," the voice came after a hole in reality opened in front of Mirajane. From the tear, the demon came, emerging flawlessly like a flower blooming in full glory. Dark hair as deep as the night. Eyes as cold as ice. Complexion as fair as fresh snow, the demon has come. "they are mine and mine to control."

Mirajane tensed. That's a first. The first time her demons manifested after taming them.

"I am Seilah," the demon announced, "the [Bringer of Curses]."

Frigga had half a mind to send her warriors but–

"You, who watch my [Mistress] as entertainment," Seilah's eyes were closed but her onlookers felt her gaze on them, "Begone!"

There were sparks and buzzes and sounds and flashes of light all around. All scrying tools observing Mirajane malfunctioned, all spells cancelled. The stronger ones tried to persist before being overpowered one by one by Seilah.

"Even my [Gaze]." Heimdall whispered.

Frigga steeled herself, "Heimdall, assemble my Valkyries. That's a [Class-A] threat than needs to be vanquished."

"But my queen–"

Frigga didn't stop, "Also, get me my sword."

Mirajane grew more concerned. Now that no one was watching, she feared what Seilah would do.

"You hurt me [Mistress]," Seilah told her facing her. "When you tamed me, you tamed the [Queen of Curses]."

Her pursuers ran for them, but Seilah simply yelled, "Kneel."

The two lesser vampires knelt without pause. They were still in control of their minds but their bodies wouldn't listen.

"I would never! You do not deserve it!" One yelled. "I will never kneel before you!" the other agreed. What followed were a string of swearwords.

Seilah didn't bother with them, until one of them spit in their direction.

Without opening her eyes, Seilah's face turned angry. "Silence!" That shut both of them up, "You are in the presence of a [Queen] and her [King]!"

The vampires, proverbially bound and gagged, started to quake on their own. Blind loyalty contradicting with the demon's [Macro]. One's eyes started to turn white, his pupils looking up.

Mirajane didn't say anything, still wary of Seilah. "What do you mean?"

"I meant what I said." Seilah said. She turned around and faced Mirajane. "All demons you possess, they are yours.

She took a step forward "You are our King! Act like it!" Before they…

That's when Mirajane felt it. Seilah's power in her veins. Then the change. The transformation. Her clothes changed followed by her body. Horns on her head, hair still platinum. A kimono made from demon cloth.

Take Over complete. [Satan Soul: Seilah].

Mirajane stood, her pursuers still kneeled on the ground. They were quiet, eyes closed as if they lost consciousness. She cancelled her powers, and reverted back. She was back in jeans, a t-shirt and one of Matt's jerseys. Her boots were still the boots that she owned from Earth Land, one of the few reminders that she's from a different world.

Her pursuers collapsed on the ground, no doubt unconscious because if they died, they would've turned to ashes, said her demons.

Mirajane was victorious, but why did it feel like a hollow victory? Maybe she should…

"You shouldn't have done that."

The noble vampire stirred her goblet. Wineglasses tended to crumble under her grip, and spilt blood's such a waste. Dinner's already been interrupted by the phone call but sustenance should never be wasted. "Oh?"

"'Never provoke sleeping dragons,' ever heard of that?"

She was atop one of the taller buildings in New York, so when she was looking down, she had a nice view of what was happening downstairs. And the scene she saw was a titan fighting against her peons. "I fail to see your point."

"And you're such a bad actress." It was a taunt. An effective one too because it hit the mark right in the center. Though the vampire, out of pride, still hid it. I don't want to give them the satisfaction, she told herself.

"We know you're distressed."

Down below, using her heightened senses, she could see the [Anomaly] in deep concentration before appearing to turn back where she was going earlier.

"I am not!"

"Oh?" the voice said, "Perhaps–"

The line was cut. Conversation between the Elder Vampire and her acquaintance was stopped. There was a crash, the sound of glass breaking, and the angry cry of the cold night's air came. It was impossible given that her walls were glass reinforced by both science and magic.

"Perhaps, you should leave me alone." A new voice asked.

The vampire tensed and drew her fangs. Under the moonlight, Camilla was stronger. Her goblet was still half-full, and she took a quick sip. "Why should I listen to you?" She was buying time because by now because her thralls were most likely assembling now.

"I don't being watched." The [Anomaly] said. Under the moonlight, her hair was unnaturally white. White as snow. And brighter than her fiery red.

"Doesn't matter." She chugged the contents of her goblet as she heard the unmistakable rumble of her thralls rushing for her aid.

Under the moonlight, Camilla was stronger, especially with a belly full of blood. And with the aid of her thralls, so much stronger. A demon her foe may be, Camilla has an army. Strong and blindly loyal to her.

There was a thud and her door's been kicked open. Camilla's sired men pour forth, outnumbering her foe one against thirty and with more to come, each with guns and swords and tools, both inane and magical in nature. Her own army, fully customized to the teeth.

The demon floated unimpressed, hair and tamoto billowing under the chilly wind. Still, like always, she would give them a second chance. Everyone had a right to redemption. Everyone deserved a second change—until she saw the remains of a man on her foe's dining table. Sprawled like cattle, naked and with welts and bruises, fear was forever locked on his face as his life was forfeit.

Magic stirred, answering to the distress of the demon. It was unnatural, but so were demons.

New thralls fell under the sheer weight of their foe's presence. Those who were able to withstand the killing intent found it hard to focus.

Gone was the merciful Mirajane.

Of course, Mirajane's seen worse–she's in the middle of a war against her world's ultimate incarnation of [Evil]: a dragon that was close to being an immortal. She's seen pain, destruction and all the horrors associated with war but this... this was inexcusable.

In front them now was the woman whom demons pledged their loyalty to, the merciless mage that decimated armies.

She was Mirajane Strauss, the She-Devil.

"I will give you only one warning. Cease everything and I'll–"

One of the vampire's guards fired a gun at her. It was fast but Mirajane was faster. Seilah was not at fast as Halphas but that a wrong comparison because Halphas was one of her fastest demons.

"Stop moving." And all vampires within the vicinity stopped moving.

Camilla did what she was told. She twitched on the ground, and with extreme effort, broke free from Mirajane's magic. "Interesting magic."

The power to compel was not a unique magic, but just the use of words and people following your orders was a finesse she so desperately wanted. That type of magic onlly belonged to her cultured and sophisticated self.

Camilla wanted to enthrall Mirajane now. She wasn't referred to as [Camilla the Greedy Glutton] for nothing.

And Camilla is not without magic. She's—

Mirajane concentrated all the magic swirling around. New York was surprising a magically potent place, especially since there was a ley line nearby. The ambient magic, always eager to please, answered.

All around, people who were capable of sensing magic felt it.

Just like that time months ago, but this time, it wasn't a tear in reality. It was magic. Pure, pure magic.

"[Soul Exctinction]!" With Seilah's [Macro] the spell's fire power was multiplied tenfold. Those who saw could've sworn that they saw a dazzling purple light flashing over the horizon.

Billy Kaplan was surprised by the feeling, despite not being able to see it. He also ended up frying his phone with his magic after feeling the excited ambient magic, jumpstarting his journey to the [Path of the Arch Magus].

Megan Gwynn felt like she was being tickled by electricity, the air (or ambient magic, since she didn't know of it yet) humming with excitement.

Nico Minoru felt the [Staff of One] cry in reverence. As to what it was the staff was rejoicing for, she didn't know.

There was one thing that was concering with Mirajane. If anything, it could be described as a weakness. And that weakness was moderating her power. Then again, who in Fairy Tail could ever do that?

The building's top has been blown off. But since Mirajane didn't hold back, harmful debris wasn't a concern because it's been obliterated into dust.

Camilla was on the ground, her thralls reduced to ashes. Reinforcements were gone too because she no longer heard their footsteps. In fact, if she hadn't used her magic to create a shield for herself she would've died.

Her body hurt all over and her magic was almost depleted.

She made an effort to sit up but the next thing she knew, she's been stabbed in the heart.

Under the moonlight, the silver blade shone like a star.

"I-I-argh!" and the ancient vampire returned to dust.

Mirajane can only look in surprise as a man with skin as dark as Misty's cleaned the blade that was earlier lodged inside the vampire's chest.

"Thanks. I've been trying infiltrate her lair for weeks now." The person said a nod. His eyes were blocked by his shades but Mirajane could tell he was happy.

"Who're you?"

The man sheathed his blade. He gave one look at Mirajane before saying, "Blade." And with that the man leaped off of the building.

"So how was work?" Matt asked as Mirajane entered the apartment.

"It was nice." But…

"But…" Matt tried to pry. She smelled oddly of ashes and something else.

"I kind of destroyed a building?" She said honestly, carefully omitting the part where she unknowingly helped a vampire slayer.