Chapter 1

Zakaria could feel the blood pissing out of his wounds as he ran through the woods.

It was pointless trying to escape, he knew. This was it, the big one, the apocalypse, the end of the fucking world. Sitting down and waiting for oblivion like those kids he left behind had a certain appeal to it, he could admit, but he had learned not too long ago that just sitting there and letting it happen wasn't him. Even though just sitting and waiting would give him what he wanted, he was going to go out as he came in, kicking and screaming.

Not even Armageddon would stop him from going out fighting.

What a fight it was. He was still bleeding heavily from what those monsters in that facility had done to him, but he was proud in the knowledge that he had given just as much back to them with his trusty machete, which sat holstered in his belt. He could feel his body growing lighter as more and more of himself leaked out of it. This was hardly the first time he'd been a bloody mess, but it was the first time he'd done this much running in this condition.

He chanced a glance behind him.

The cabin was gone. A giant arm was sticking out of the ground, enormous and terrible. The hand alone was big enough that the entire cabin would have fit in it with no problem. The trees were falling all around him as he continued running, running, running.

The ground shook, which it had been for several minutes now, but this was different. This was stronger. He felt the ground jut upwards beneath him with such force that he launched into the air. This is it, he thought. Now that he'd lost his footing, it didn't matter where he landed; he knew he wouldn't have the strength to get up again. That one shake of the ground had killed him.

Then he wasn't in the forest anymore.

His mind, ever alert, looked to where he just was, and he could see the forest through whatever he'd just flown through. It was like a … a gap of some sort. A rip. And it was closing. He could see his world crumbling, just coming apart at the seams, and the view was shrinking more by the second. He looked around and immediately regretted it. The best way his surroundings could be described was as nothing. Literally nothing. Zakaria found that he could not breathe, for there was no air, nor was there anything else. Somehow, instinctively, Zakaria knew that there was no time, space, matter, or anything of any kind bar Zakaria himself. It was empty. Or rather, it was emptiness.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

That scream came not from Zakaria, but seemed to come from nothingness itself. Something started to form, something which instinctively terrified him on a level he had never experienced, and that was saying something.

Then he landed on concrete.

Above him, the rip closed. As it did, he heard the angered, pained screech vibrate through every bone in his body and shake his brain inside his skull.

Wherever he had landed, it was no longer the middle of the night. The sky above was a deep orange, and the streetlights were coming on as the sun set. Yes, he was in the street, that much he could tell. Civilisation. Someone to find his body in the morning after he inevitably bleeds to death. He turned his head, something which took a lot more strength than it ordinarily would have, to see if he could find some clue as to where he'd landed. In one of the many shops that lined the street, he could see a sign written in …

Kanji? he thought as he stared at it. Am I in Japan?

The change in location was excellent. At the very least, it should take longer for this place to be ripped apart. At least, assuming those things beneath the Earth's surface were only in that one location. He doubted anyone would be that lucky. Rather than focusing on the inevitable destruction of the world, he decided to think of his current circumstances. This blood loss was a real pain in the ass. All that talk of not laying down and dying and here he was, doing just that because there wasn't enough blood in his body to do much else at this point. Yet having death so close eased him in a way nothing had in a while.

After all, death had been his end goal for quite some time. He'd even tried to die before, multiple times, but he had learned the hard way that just killing himself was a waste of life.

This thought sent a jolt of motivation through him. Not enough to make him move, but enough to make him know that he should at least try.

That jolt was met by another bump when he felt … something appear around the area he was in.

He sat bolt upright, not even feeling the damage he was doing to his own body. He'd lost too much blood to feel pain by now. Whatever that was, it was nothing like he'd ever felt before. There was power behind that he didn't recognise. Different even than the abominations he had just been fleeing. If he had to put a word to it, he supposed that word would be "energy." It was like a massive dome of energy had appeared around the area.

This isn't the centre, he thought, reaching out with his mind to find the edges. … Yes, that's it. That's the centre.

He was standing up before he even knew it. Motivation had come, and he was on the move once again. He moved towards the centre of this dome. He didn't understand why he was doing it, but he rarely knew why he did these things. After so many years of hellish encounter after hellish encounter, some things were just ingrained into his behaviour like instincts. Only while other creatures' instincts prompted them to flee from danger, his prompted him to go towards it.

But what the hell, right? It wouldn't be the first time he threw himself into a dangerous situation he probably wouldn't get out of alive. It wasn't even the first time he'd done that today.

His senses led him to a park. There were a fair number of trees around the pathway, which brought to mind a few past experiences and set him even more on edge than he already was. What remained of the day's sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the trees to create an eerie glowing effect. He limped on until he came to a clearing with a fountain.

There were two others there, one human and one … something else.

The human was a teenager, from the look of him. Average height, short, spiky, brown hair, light, brown eyes. He looked Japanese, which Zakaria thought odd since those hair and eye colours weren't exactly standard in Japan, at least not to his knowledge. The teen was wearing an open grey jacket with black buttons over a black shirt with white and red stripes accenting the collar, dark grey trousers, and black shoes. He was also currently on his ass from shock, staring at the clear non-human in front of him.

The non-human was a beautiful young woman whose only signs of being non-human were the pair of black, feathered wings protruding from her back and the spear she was holding which appeared to be composed entirely of light. She had long, silky, black hair down to her hips, violet eyes, and fair skin. But it was what she was wearing that really stood out. The whole load of nothing she had on looked like a bunch of black, strap-like objects that looked like they might have been leather around and under her breasts, a thong-like piece held around her hips by three thin straps, gloves that ran right up her arms with small lengths of chains hanging from them, shoulder guard-like objects on her shoulders with three large spikes sprouting from her right shoulder, and black thigh-high heel boots.

If there were enough blood left in Zakaria to achieve an effect, all of it would probably be flowing down right about now. His libido may not be what it once was, but his body still had the reactions of a heterosexual male when seeing something like this. Unfortunately, there wasn't much blood to go to his brain, either, so the first thing he did was a comment on this clearly dangerous woman's appearance.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" he asked her. Both she and the teen turned to face him, only just noticing his presence. "Or I guess a better question would be: what aren't you wearing? The apocalypse is no reason to risk giving yourself a cold, lady."

"Wha—? Who the hell are you?" she asked. Her voice was deep, alluring, and currently annoyed-sounding. "I didn't detect anyone else around here!"

"T-Tasukete!" the teen shouted to him in Japanese. "Nani ga okotte iru no ka wakaranai, anata wa watashi o tasukenakereba naranai!"

"Sorry, kid, but I don't speak Japanese," Zakaria said offhandedly, trying to ignore the way his body was swaying, determined to crash to the ground before he could take so much as a single step more. He turned his attention to the lady. "So what's up with you, lady? Big black wings, a spear so bright it'd probably blind me if I looked directly at it, an outfit that doesn't so much scream 'battle-hardened warrior woman' as it does 'try to pull this one off, cosplayers.' Never seen one like you before."

The woman glared at him for a few moments. "Never mind," she said, seemingly having decided something. "You look just about dead, anyway, so at least I won't have to worry about wiping your mind or killing you myself. I can just kill this pathetic little idiot and be done with it." She turned her attention back to the teen, who looked up at her with fear in his eyes. She pulled back her arm, prepared to launch the spear, and …

SCHLICK!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

… promptly started screaming, dispelling the spear in pain, as Zakaria's machete found a new home in the exposed skin on her side. She clutched at the blade as blood dribbled out of her from around it, and she pulled. It didn't take much effort to get out. When it came out, she immediately dropped it in favour of holding a hand to her side, which was now pouring blood out. She gritted her teeth and glared at Zakaria, who had used up what little strength he had left to throw that machete and had missed. He had been trying to get her in the neck.

Nevertheless, he had hit her and done damage. Seeing her glare, he decided to do something sure to turn her attention to him if that injury hadn't already: he grinned at her.

"I can't believe a filthy fucking human just did this to me," she hissed out in pure malice. "You wanna die so fucking badly? Fine! The idiot can wait. You've just pissed me off far more than the boring day I've had up to this point." Another spear of light formed in her free hand. "Say goodbye to your worthless little life, asshole!"

Can't come soon enough, Zakaria found himself thinking. As she pulled her arm back to aim her throw, he closed his eyes. Mom, Dad, Beth, Nancy, everyone … I'll see you soon.

SCHLICK!

Death couldn't come soon enough for Zakaria, but he had never wanted it to be like this. As the spear of light entered his chest, he was surprised to find that he felt absolutely nothing. The other wounds he had sustained this evening all ached as they should have, but that spear pierced his chest, went right through his body, and stuck out of the other side, and he felt absolutely nothing. The spear quickly vanished, leaving him to bleed profusely from the hole it left, and he still felt no pain whatsoever.

Even through the haze of blood loss, he was lucid enough to hear what the woman said next. "All right, now for y—"

The feeling, that dome around the area, vanished as she spoke. No … it was more accurate to say it shattered. Something had broken through it. Zakaria thought he knew what. Ah, and the end of the world has caught up with me. Couldn't let me die without one final reminder that the Earth is fucked.

"Shit!" the woman cursed indignantly. "No, no, no! This wasn't supposed to happen like this! Fucking damn it!" Though his eyes were closed, Zakaria could feel her eyes burning into him. "This is all your fault, you fucking asshat! Rot in Hell, you interfering shitbag!" She paused, weighing her options, then growled as she reached a conclusion she didn't like. "Damn iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" she yelled in rage.

The sound of flapping wings starting and then getting quieter and quieter indicated to Zakaria that she had left. Evidently, she'd failed to kill the teen in time.

One last good deed before I kick the bucket, Zakaria thought as he felt himself drifting away.

The last thing he heard was the teen he'd saved saying, "Senpai …?"

Waking up after that was an unpleasant surprise. Why …? he thought, anguished. Why won't you just let me, fucking, die!?

The pain was gone. That was something, at least.

Zakaria opened his eyes and slowly sat up. For the briefest of moments, he thought he might have been in Hell. He was on a couch in the middle of a room which was covered in demonic-looking symbols, and the most prominent of which was a huge one engraved on the floor in the centre of the room. He was on one of two couches on either side of a coffee table, at the end of which sat an armchair. The room was lit by candlelight. As he sat up, the blanket that had been covering him fell away, and cold air hit his bare skin. That was when he realised he was naked.

Zakaria was a man of 24 who looked far older than he really was, mostly due to living a life with far more stress than the average person, with medium-brown skin, short, curly, black hair, and somewhat large, grey eyes that had been dulled over the years. He was tall and quite muscular, though his build was relatively average. There were scars on every inch of his body, a few of which he had put there himself. Those were mainly on his wrists, but a few had been formed when he'd thrown himself off of things. One particularly nasty one on his chest had even been necessary for his survival. The most notable one, however, the one that was always on display, was a burned-in symbol on his left cheek.

"Ah, so you're awake," said a woman's voice.

Quick as a flash, Zakaria was on his feet. He raised his hand in an instinctive gesture and his machete, which was on the other side of the room atop a pile of new clothes, flew into his hand like it was magnetised. He held it up in a combat-ready stance that made it clear he was ready to defend himself if necessary.

The young woman tensed up for all of about half a second before relaxing again and smiling at him. "So that's what Rias sensed in you," she commented. "The boy you saved said you moved too fast for him to see, but I'm starting to think you didn't move at all to make that throw. Ufufu."

Zakaria took a moment to observe the young woman. She was in her late teens, probably around 18 years of age, and she was gorgeous. Her exceptionally long, black hair was tied in a long ponytail, reaching down to her legs with two strands sticking out from the top and sloping backwards, with an orange ribbon keeping it in place, and she had violet eyes. Her body was incredibly voluptuous, which Zakaria could tell even through her clothes, which appeared to be a school uniform. She was wearing a white button-down shirt which looked like it was liable to break open at the slightest heave of her ample chest with a black ribbon tied around the collar, a black shoulder-cape with white highlights around the edges and a matching corset around her waist, a red skirt with white lines highlighting it at the bottom, and a pair of brown shoes over a pair of black, calf-length socks.

"Where the hell am I?" Zakaria asked her in a level tone.

"Akeno?" came another woman's voice as a door opened, and somebody joined them. "Is our new friend awake?" As she turned to face him, her eyes scanned the machete in his hand for the briefest of moments before a kind smile overtook her face. "Now, now, there's no need to be worried."

"I'll judge that when I know what's going on here," he said, eyeing the new arrival.

She was wearing the same uniform as the other one, and it hugged her almost as tightly, but not quite, and she had short white socks, but those were the only real differences. This new girl was still a beauty, with pale skin, blue-green eyes, and long, beautiful, crimson hair that reached down to her thighs with a single hair strand sticking out from the top and loose bangs covering her forehead while side-bangs framed her pretty face. As mentioned, she had quite the buxom figure, though not quite as shapely as her friend there.

A few years ago, being faced with these two might have made Zakaria blush, but his libido wasn't what it used to be.

"Then ask your questions," the redhead said calmly. "We'll answer them as well as we can."

"Where am I?" he asked again.

"You're in the clubroom of the Occult Research Club," the redhead explained. "It's a club at Kuou Academy."

"And who are you two?"

"My name is Rias Gremory. I'm the president of the Occult Research Club."

"And my name is Akeno Himejima," said the other one, bowing politely. "Vice-president. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Might we get your name before we continue?" Rias asked.

"… Zakaria. Zakaria Holland," he introduced himself. "What happened to me?"

"You were already quite wounded before the fallen angel impaled you with her spear of light," Rias said. "The spear probably would have finished you off, anyway, but you looked like you were running on mostly fumes. Gave us quite a struggle with the clean-up operation, too, might I add. You bled all the way from the street to the middle of the park. Ordinarily, we'd let the fallen angels go about their business as long as it didn't directly affect us, but we detected a strange and powerful energy signature within the area where she set up her barrier. We couldn't afford not to investigate."

That'll be the portal, Zakaria thought, the pieces falling together a little bit. "I fell through something," he admitted. "It was like a rip or a tear; I don't know how else to explain it … It led into some sort of bizarro place, all black except for these little rips in the world. It took me from some woods in the middle of Vancouver to that street just by the park." He shook his head. "How are we even here right now? The world should be ending."

The two of them looked at him, gone out. "The world is ending?" Akeno was the one to ask.

"There were these things. The scientists called them the Ancient Ones. They were being kept happy by this fucking ritual thing where these kids I was with had to die, but they failed, and the Ancient Ones got up. They were ripping the world apart around me when I fell through that weird rip. What happened?"

Rias hummed. "Seems like our readings were correct. The energy near where you came in, it felt like some sort of portal, but it wasn't like any I'd ever seen before. It was far too powerful. From the way you're describing it, I'd say …" She hesitated here as if she couldn't quite believe she was about to say this. "… I'd say you fell through a portal between dimensions. That … isn't something I've ever heard of before. Whatever these 'Ancient Ones' were doing, it must have been ripping your world to shreds."

He nodded along with what she was saying. It meant something about his life that this wasn't the weirdest idea he'd ever heard. "So not even the collapse of my entire universe can finish me off … Ain't that a bitch?" He chuckled bitterly. "How am I alive, by the way? I'm pretty sure you said that spear thing should have killed me."

"It did kill you, Zakaria," she informed him. "You were just slipping away as we got there. I brought you back … as a demon."

"… A demon?"

"Yes, a demon."

Zakaria went quiet, slowly lowering his machete. There was a change to the girls' demeanours as they saw that the tension had been diffused … but now it was replaced with an entirely different one. He wasn't saying a word. He put his machete down on the coffee table and sat on the couch in complete silence.

"… snrk …" the tiniest of snorts escaped him. "Heeheehee …" It got louder and louder by the second. "Hahahahaha … Hahahahahahahaha!" He couldn't hold it in; he just couldn't stop laughing. All this time, all these near-death experiences, so many years waiting to see the end of this shitshow finally… and now I'm a fucking demon. This wasn't genuine laughter. This was hysterical. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The two girls looked at one another with concern etched across their faces. Rias gave Akeno a nod, and Akeno walked over to Zakaria. She placed her fingers against his forehead …

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—"

… and he fell backwards onto the couch, fast asleep.

When Zakaria woke up again, it was much less of a shock. He also felt genuinely good for the first time in quite a while. Whatever Akeno had done to him, it wasn't merely to render him unconscious, but to truly put him to sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept well – habitually taking dream suppressants for several years would do that to a guy. Dreamless nights of sleep were awful things, even if you never remembered your dreams when you had them. Part of you still knew you had them, and their absence was felt somewhere in your mind that you couldn't find or comfort.

He shook such morbid thoughts away and sat up.

I thought this felt roomier than before, he thought as he looked down at the double bed he was lying on. The room he was in was significantly more regular than the clubroom he had been in before. It was very spartan, which was the way he liked things: just a bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a bedside table. The walls were coloured pretty blandly in white. On the bedside table, he saw his machete placed atop a pile of fresh clothes. The blade had been cleaned to a shine it probably hadn't had since before he got it, and thinking about it, probably a good amount of time before the previous owner had it in their possession. He could only assume the ones he had arrived in had been thrown away. All those rips and all the blood staining them had probably damaged them beyond repair. Not that he held any particular attachment to them. As long as he had his machete, he was golden.

Well, not golden, but as close to it as he was capable.

As he lifted the quilt off of himself and moved to climb out of bed, he ran his fingers along the large scar on his chest. That was his reminder of how much his life was worth. Death couldn't come soon enough, and he would accept it with open arms when it was his time, but he would no longer actively seek it. He would not remain idle while his life was in peril.

He stood up and got dressed. The clothes were pretty bland, too. Just a white button-down shirt, a pair of black trousers with a matching belt, and a pair of black shoes. Plus socks and boxer shorts. Bland though they may have been, the material felt nice. He wondered how much these simple garments had cost.

Then he left the bedroom, moving cautiously through what he saw was an apartment. Not that caution was doing very much for him. There was somebody else in there, and the central area of the apartment connected to all the rooms – there were three, most likely two bedrooms and a bathroom – while in itself containing both the living room and the kitchen. However, the place was big enough that both could have easily been their own rooms had there been walls put up. demons must have quite a bit of money, he reflected as he took in the appearance of the one who was now looking at him with dull eyes similar to those he guessed he also often had.

She was another girl, younger than Rias and Akeno – he would guess maybe 16 or so. Even for a girl of that age, she was rather petite. She had golden eyes and snow-white hair with two long bangs at the front going past her shoulders and several loose bangs hanging over her forehead, while the back was done in a short bob cut. She also wore a black cat-shaped hair clip on either side of her head. She wore the same school uniform as Rias and Akeno but without the shoulder-cape and with a pair of knee-length black socks, and hers was far less form-fitting due to her comparatively smaller body.

"They told me to wait for you to wake up," she said in a tone of voice as flat as her expression. "I'm supposed to take you back when you're ready."

"I'm ready now."

GRUMBLE!

"No, you're not," the girl said dryly as his stomach rumbled. "Rias only got you this place last night. It isn't stocked fully, but there's bread. Eat."

There was something … strange about this girl. That wasn't a bad thing in the slightest; it was just that he had learned to recognise when people were repressing. He did it himself all the time. This girl was speaking in short, near-stunted sentences, and she kept all the emotion out of her voice and off of her face. It was apparent to someone like him that she was repressing. It wasn't any of his business, however. He wouldn't ask. Other people's emotional problems were things he wasn't equipped to deal with, anyhow.

Seeing that he wasn't going to be able to argue with her, he moved over to the bread bin on the kitchen counter and took out a couple of slices. He put them in the toaster and started toasting them. "I know you said this place isn't stocked but is there any butter at least?" he asked. "Dry toast is shit."

"In the fridge," she said.

He went over and opened the fridge, finding the butter quickly. He was disappointed by the lack of alcohol, not that he expected to find any. Christ, I need a drink, he thought, unconsciously licking his lips in longing. How long had it been? Two, maybe three days? Now that he was in a calmer environment, the craving was coming back to him. That never-ending thirst …

The toast popped out of the toaster, and he went over to butter it. He didn't bother spreading it evenly. He didn't even bother cutting it in half or anything – he just spread some butter over it and started eating.

"I'm Koneko," the girl said suddenly.

He swallowed what he was chewing. "Zakaria," he said.

They sat in silence as he ate the rest of it.

"Okay, I'm ready now," he said.

"Drink," she told him.

If only I had some, he thought. Then, out loud, he said, "Oh, you mean water." She gave him a look – it was just her regular expression, but something about it felt like a "look." "Fine," he conceded, going to a cupboard, and taking out a glass. He filled it with water, then gulped the whole lot down in a few seconds. "Happy?"

She just nodded and led him to the centre of the living room part. On the floor, he noticed, was another one of those demonic-looking circles. Koneko stood in the centre of it and waited, looking at him. He took that to mean he had to stand in the middle of it, too, so he walked over and did so. Almost immediately, the circle began to glow. The light got intense enough to blind him, and he closed his eyes to get away from the light, which was far more intense than it had any right to be.

When Zakaria opened his eyes again, he was back in that clubroom. The demonic symbols were a lot less disconcerting to him now. The moment they arrived, Koneko walked off and took a seat on one of the couches. Zakaria moved with caution and sat on the couch opposite.

Not even a moment later, one of the doors opened and in stepped two teenage boys, only one of whom Zakaria recognised. It was the kid he saved in the park the night before, and he looked perplexed. The other one just screamed "pretty boy." He had short blond hair, greyish-blue eyes, with a small mole beneath the left one, and fair skin. They were both wearing the same school uniform, with a black blazer with white highlights, a white button-down shirt, black trousers, and brown shoes. While the new boy wore his uniform correctly with a black ribbon around his collar, the one Zakaria saved the night before had his shirt open without a ribbon and a red T-shirt underneath.

"Hey, you're that guy!" the one he'd saved exclaimed.

"How observant of you," Zakaria remarked dryly.

The teen blinked at him. "Huh … I, uh, I kinda got the impression last night that you didn't speak Japanese."

"I … don't …" Zakaria said, confused. "You're speaking English, aren't you?"

"Hell no. I don't understand a word of it."

"That's just one of your new demon powers," the one he didn't recognise explained. "Everything is translated for you. Anything anyone says to you will be interpreted in the language you're most familiar with, and everything you say to them will be translated so that they can understand."

"That's convenient," said Zakaria.

"Yes, it is. I'm Yuuto Kiba, by the way."

"Zakaria Holland."

"O-Oh! My name is Issei Hyoudou," said the one he'd saved last night, bowing his head. "Thank you for what you did last night. I don't exactly understand what was happening, but I know I was in trouble, so thanks a lot for saving me."

"No worries, kid," said Zakaria. "I was bleeding to death, anyway."

"Oh, good, everyone is here," came Rias' voice as she and Akeno stepped out of the room off to the side. "I know it's terribly rude, but between calming Issei down and taking care of our new arrival, I'm afraid I didn't get a chance to shower last night. Well, now that everyone has arrived, we can get started." She sat down in the armchair at the end of the table as Akeno moved off to do something. "This meeting serves two purposes. You, Zakaria, are being given an orientation on your situation. How are you, by the way?"

"Good," he said. "The breakdown was over by the time I woke up."

"I suppose I should be happy about that. You're rather relaxed about all this."

"My first breakdown had me hacking a man to death. Hysterical laughter is pretty mild by comparison."

"… I see."

"Tea, anyone?" Akeno said pleasantly, pouring from a pot and into teacups on the coffee table in front of them.

Zakaria picked his up, and while the others delicately sipped and blew on theirs, he just swigged a mouthful immediately. "Delicious," he said, showing no signs of it having burned his mouth.

"Thank you very much," Akeno said happily.

"Continuing on," Rias said, "we're here to brief you on your new life, Zakaria, and in doing so, I hope to make you an appealing offer, Issei."

"What kind of offer?" Issei asked with a very eager expression on his face. It was pretty clear what kind of offer he wanted to hear.

"To become a demon," said Rias. "I'll get straight to the point. Everyone in this room is a demon except for you, Issei."

"… Uh-huh."

Rias' smile widened. "You look like you don't believe me. I would say I understand, but you saw your date grow black wings and stab our new friend here with a spear of light, didn't you? That was a fallen angel. They're beings who used to serve Heaven but were sent to Hell as punishment for evil deeds and intentions."

My money's on lust, Zakaria thought, thinking back on the fallen angel's outfit.

"Their kind are our enemies," Rias continued. "We demons have been at war with the fallen angels since time immemorial, fighting for hegemony over the underworld that humankind calls Hell. Each of the two factions controls one portion of the underworld. Demons like us build our strength by forging pacts with humans and exacting payment. Fallen angels seek to manipulate humanity and destroy demons. There are also proper angels, who follow the will of Heaven, indiscriminately targeting demons and fallen angels alike. These three factions have been locked in eternal conflict since the beginning of time."

"So … Yuuma was one of these fallen angels?" Issei asked. Zakaria just assumed Yuuma was the one that had impaled him.

"That's right," Rias confirmed. "She made contact with you for the sake of a mission that, thanks to Zakaria here, she never got to accomplish."

"A mission?"

"Yes. To kill you."

"But why!? Why would she want me dead!?"

"Calm down, Issei. It's nothing you did … Let's just say you were unlucky …"

"Unlucky!?'"

"Last night, you went on a date with her, and she led you to that park, where she intended to kill you before Zakaria's portal dropped him not far away and he put quite a dent in her plans. She had to get close to you to learn if you possessed something dangerous to them. I'm sure the response wasn't particularly strong, which is why it took her some time to confirm it. But then she found it. Your body is the vessel for a Sacred Gear."

"Sacred Gears are exceptional powers entrusted to certain humans," Yuuto picked up after her. "A lot of famous historical figures are believed to have possessed them. It's the power of their Sacred Gear that inscribed their names into the history books."

"Even today, Sacred Gears continue to appear in the world," Akeno added. "I'm sure you've heard of great individuals playing important roles in society? Many of them possess Sacred Gears, too."

"Most of these items aren't capable of much more than making a few waves in human society," Rias went on, "but some have power formidable enough to threaten demons and fallen angels. Issei, raise your hand." Issei just looked confused. "Quickly now."

Still looking confused, Issei raised his hand. Zakaria looked on in barely visible interest, wondering what power would have been worth trying to kill the kid over.

"Close your eyes and visualise the most powerful thing that comes to mind," Rias urged Issei.

"Th-The most powerful …?" Issei clarified. "L-Like Satoru's energy-wave attack from Dragon Orb …"

"Very well. Imagine that. Picture it at its strongest." She waited a few seconds. "Slowly lower your arm and rise to your feet." She paused as he did so. "Now put yourself in that stance. The absolute strongest pose, all right? Don't hold back." Issei did nothing for a while, hesitating quite clearly now. "Come on."

Sighing in resignation, Issei put his hands together, open, at the wrist, then held them close to his chest. "Dragon Wave!" he declared as he thrust his palms forward.

There was a change to the weight of the room, Zakaria noticed. It felt like the air in the room was full of something.

"Now open your eyes," Rias told him. "This room is overflowing with energy, so you shouldn't have much trouble manifesting your Sacred Gear."

Issei opened his eyes … and in a flash of light which lingered, becoming a glow which spread from the palm of Issei's left hand down to his elbow. The light dissipated as quickly as it appeared, leaving a red gauntlet in its place.

"Wh-What the hell!?" Issei exclaimed.

"That is your Sacred Gear," Rias informed him. "Now that you have manifested it, you can use it whenever you like. The fallen angel - Yuuma Amano - considered your Sacred Gear a threat. This is why you died, Zakaria."

"I was dying anyway," Zakaria said. "I left most of my blood in my universe, and I leaked plenty onto the street in this one. But the way you've been talking about it, it sounds like you brought me back."

"Yes, I did," she confirmed. "When we transported to your location to investigate the energy signature the portal which dropped you here was producing, I could sense the power in you immediately. That's why I made a gamble and brought you back as my demon servant. From what I've seen so far, I'd guess you have telekinesis. Is that right?"

"It is," he confirmed. "I also seem to have some kind of mental block. I've had things try fucking with my head before, but it hasn't worked."

Rias hummed, pleased. "Useful powers," she remarked. "I'd say I made a good decision." Her expression turned serious once more. "I need you to understand, though, that when I brought you back, I brought you back as my servant, an honoured member of Rias Gremory's Familia. All the demons here are my servants, as well. I don't like to think of myself a tyrant, but I do need you to understand that until such a time as you're ranked high enough to gain your own servants, you work for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said without batting an eyelid. "I guess I owe you my life, anyway. Not like I was planning on doing much with it, so at least now there's a point to it."

Rias once again looked briefly concerned. "I'm glad you understand," she said, then she turned back to Issei. "My offer to you, Issei, is to join us. I would like to offer you a place on my Familia as my demon servant. Pay attention, Zakaria, because everything I'm about to say applies to you, too. If you agree to work under me, Issei, you're in for a treat. What you see here, this group of demons, is called a Familia. Just so you know, demon society is divided into different strata. I have a noble title. In our world, one's status largely depends on birth and upbringing, but there are some demons who manage to climb the ladder. Everyone starts as a novice at first."

"Could you please stop talking as though this were a college recruitment!?" Issei exclaimed.

Rias smirked at him. "You know, if you become a demon, you could become very popular with the opposite sex."

"How!?" Issei asked immediately.

Hook, line, sinker, Zakaria thought, shaking his head in disappointment at Issei's behaviour. Great. He's one of those guys.

"Most pure-blooded demons perished in the Great War long ago," Rias explained. "As a result, there was a critical shortage of loyal servants. The power and majesty that we used to possess when we stood at the forefront of our great legions were lost, too. Without fresh blood, we were doomed to perish. Just like with humans, there were male and female demons, and we are capable of bearing children. However, it would take eons for our numbers to recover through natural birth alone. Such a thing would leave us defenceless against the fallen angels. That's why we have been finding suitable humans and turning them into demons - as our retainers."

"So, I'd just be a stooge?"

"Oh, don't look so down. Let me get to the point. This conversion method only helps increase the total number of lesser-ranked demons. It doesn't bolster the number of powerful ones, so we introduced a system to give reincarnated demons - that is, those who were once human - a chance to rise up. If a reincarnated demon proves worthy, they will be granted a noble rank and title, regardless of how they were born. This system has really boosted our population. You might be surprised to learn just how many demons are running around. Like the members of my club, there are plenty who have chosen to blend into human society, too. I'm sure you've met more than a handful of us already without realising it."

"There are other demons here!?"

"Yes. Some humans are able to detect us, but most can't. Those filled with powerful desires, or who want to make a deal, are better at sensing our presences. They're the type who usually summon us, using the leaflets that we hand out. Then there are others like you, who can tell us apart but can't bring themselves to actually believe we exist. Not until we show them our demonic powers, anyway."

"S-So when you say I can earn a noble title ...?"

"You have the potential to gain your own servants, yes."

"… So wait, you're telling me that if I join you, I could have a harem of beautiful female servants?" Issei asked.

"Yes, it's certainly possible."

"… I'm in!"

I apologise to any Japanese-speakers for the attempt at writing Japanese with Issei near the start there. I used Google Translate. It's supposed to say, "Help me!" and "I don't know what's going on, you have to help me!"

Yes, as they figured out in the story, this is a fic with an OC from another universe. Though he's not from our world, hence his complete lack of knowledge of High School DxD. He is from a different fictional universe that I'll be revealing more details of throughout the story and will be getting a prequel story covering his life there, so look forward to that. I know I'm looking forward to writing it. You can thank the light novels' introduction of the multiverse for this – it opens up so many possibilities.

Just in case anyone was confused, Issei's lack of introductions during the exposition dump at the end there is due to the fact that he already met them all on the night Raynare planned to kill him. Y'know, the whole "investigating a powerful unknown energy source" thing.

Here are the harems at the moment:

Zakaria: Raynare, Kalavana, Akeno Himejima,

Issei: Rias Gremory, Asia Argento, Koneko Toujou, Irina Shidou, Ravel Phenex, Le Fay Pendragon, Elmenhilde Karnstein, Ophis,

They'll be bigger than that, but those are the only members I've decided on. Feel free to make suggestions, but know that I'll be considering the character more than I usually would be due to the more specific backstory of my OC and the personality which has resulted from it. Hell, the reason Issei's is much bigger than Zakaria's here is that those are characters I guarantee aren't going to work with Zakaria's nature. Probably going to throw Mittelt into Issei's, too, but not sure on that just yet.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the new story. See you all next time.