I do not own Highschool DxD.

Living for millennia had many downsides to the leader of Heaven.

Yes, he was able to revel in the advancement of humanity, and he had had all the time in the world to enjoy the company of his fellow Angels.

Yet those many years had also come with the cost of both fate's whims and his own choices. The death of his father, the being known as "God", was one such whim.

Michael had succeeded in reactivating Heaven's system, but it hadn't been long before even the Archangel had realized that he could not run the system anywhere near as well as his father could.

Miracles became far less frequent. Faith decreased, and Heaven weakened. With all these worries piled onto him, it was inevitable that mistakes would be made. Many were fixable.

Just as many, however, were not, and all Michael could do was bear the shame.

Few mistakes brought him more shame than the Holy Sword Project.

It had seemed a simple enough proposition – allow Valper Galilei, a man who was known to love Holy Swords immensely to run tests on volunteers to figure out what allowed the chosen few to wield Holy Swords.

That had been what was proposed to him and the upper echelons of the church, anyway.

Only far too late had Michael learned of the utter horror show that the Holy Sword Project had become. Only far too late had he learned that Valper Galilei's love of Holy Swords would be better described as a maniacal obsession.

Instead of the carefully selected volunteers, Valper had used children from the church, who had been explicitly forbidden from even volunteering themselves.

Instead of the approved tests, which would have been harmless, the unwilling children suffered horribly at the hands of the vile archbishop's insane schemes.

And then, when the research was finished, they were all murdered.

That, more than anything else, was beyond Michael's understanding. Once Valper's research had been seized, it had become painfully obvious that there was no need to kill the children; if all that was needed was a gene, wouldn't small samples of blood be enough?

A small amount of study was enough to confirm that thought, and it became the method by which crystals were produced.

Michael had personally excommunicated Valper the instant he had found out about the archbishop's mania, and condemned him; yet, the Archangel knew that this was a weak gesture at best.

Excommunicating the insane archbishop did not fix anything.

It could not revive the slain children. For all his power, he could not give them back their lives.

Thus, as one might suspect, when Gabriel had requested a second project to research another one of the church's swords, the leader of Heaven had been rather apprehensive. He had put his faith in the church to create a way for any exorcist to use a Holy Sword, and it had backfired spectacularly.

Yet Michael also could not disagree with his sister's assessment. This Jack was inexperienced, knowing little, while also being in possession of the Boosted Gear. It was a perfect storm of rotten luck for the new Angel, both to be attacked for unknowingly possessing the Red Dragon Emperor and to have the current White Dragon Emperor as a rival.

And so, in spite of his own apprehension, Michael had acquiesced. He had gone to a man in the Vatican, and declared to him what it was he was seeking.

Leo Ornstein, the fifth wielder of Saint George's sword, had immediately agreed, just as Michael had hoped he would.

And so, the research had begun, but it had been run very differently than the research done on the Excalibur.

Father Ornstein had given his blood for testing without question, and Michael, with the help of the Seraphs oversaw every single test and comparison that was done upon the blood of the natural-born Holy Sword wielders of the church. He would often speak to the old pastor, asking him if anything excessive had been demanded by the clergy.

Michael refused to take even the tiniest risk of this attempt going awry.

The research's progress had been rapid, and it was after barely a month of seeking that the specific gene was identified that allowed Ornstein to use the blade.

Another month later, and it had been extracted from the blood samples.

One full week after that, the end result had been finished – a new type of crystal had been birthed, which all research indicated would allow Issei to wield Saint George's sword.

This just left one thing to do.

"I am more grateful than I have words for, Father."

The seventy-seven year old man seated by the fireplace in the ancient library chuckled. "Think nothing of it, Lord Michael. I am a member of the church; it is my honor to aid Heaven's mission."

Ornstein reached out with the fire poker he was holding, turning one of the logs over. "Though I must ask, Lord Michael – why now?"

The Seraph tipped his head to the side, the crystal gripped in his left hand. "What do you mean?"

"I remember..." the old man said, his eyes shutting and his head shaking. "I remember the day we found out about the result of the first Holy Sword Project like it was yesterday. I remember so well your excommunication of Valper."

He turned the log once more. "What I'm asking, Lord Michael, is… why the interest in Ascalon now?" The elderly dragonslayer smiled slightly as he looked over the arm of the chair. "Is it to do with the Jack of Hearts?"

Michael blinked, confused as to how the old pastor knew of his sister's Jack. Issei, to his knowledge, had yet to be delegated to the church on any missions, no matter how tiny. Gabriel had insisted on letting him grow stronger and more accustomed to being an Angel before she did that, and the other Seraphs had seen her logic quite plainly.

"I heard about him from one of the congregation," Ornstein explained, his face amused. "Apparently, Lady Gabriel's Queen mentioned him to her students at one point or another. Not by name or anything of the sort. Just his title."

Michael sighed, deciding that there was no point in lying about it. "Yes, it is for his sake. He will need it for what is likely to come." The Seraph laid a hand on the old man's shoulder. "I ask that you not spread that piece of information."

Ornstein smiled. "Thy will be done, Lord Michael."

Michael turned around, before looking back forlornly at the elderly pastor.

"The offer is still open, Father Ornstein. We still have cards unused."

Ornstein gave a light sigh, though his smile never wavered. "Lord Michael, I refused you before, and I must refuse you again. I do not seek Sainthood. My old bones crave rest more than anything else, and I've no desire to live forever. Better for me to leave the Brave Saint's positions to the church's new blood."

"And yet you were among the most skilled exorcists of the church," Michael countered. "Even as a simple mentor to the newest Saints, your presence would be well appreciated. That, of course, is before we address your skills as the church's premier dragon slayer."

Another chuckle came from the old pastor. "Lord Michael, I can count on my fingers the number of times that my skills with Ascalon were required. As for my skills as an exorcist… you've plenty of capable exorcists within your decks already. My presence would be of no additional help to that cause." He put the fire poker down and folded his hands in his lap.

"Though… I would, at some point, seek to meet the Jack of Hearts, if it would be possible. Simply to know who am I passing this torch to."

Michael sighed, disappointed at being refused once more. "I shall see. If circumstances allow it… I shall as well. Good night, Father Ornstein."

"Good night, Lord Michael."

Heaven's leader vanished into a cross.

And cut. Yeah, pretty short, yadda yadda. Just want to give an idea of where Michael was and what he was doing.

And yes, I know what you're all thinking with regards to the pastor's name. And yes, you're right.