A/N: Okay…so, after writing the last chapter, I was in a melancholy mood, because…well…the last chapter was melancholy. And I was in a happy mood about five minutes ago when I found out that three (count 'em! Three!) people had reviewed the first chapter.

…And now I have to be in a melancholy mood again, because I'm writing a new chapter to this story. Yes, I know what you're thinking (maybe)…"Why do all these fan fiction authors have to write these somber, angsty stories?" The answer is complicated. See, the funny stories get the most reviews, and the slash romance fics (for some strange, no doubt disgusting reason) get a lot of reviews, so that's out too.

The answer is that…well…I'm a melancholy person. Yeppers, that's it in a nutshell. So there.

…And this author note is dragging out…a lot. So let me give you the bottom line: I don't own D.N.Angel. I don't own any of the characters. I just own my own imagination (thank god!) and this storyline.

Savior… Chapter Three: Surrounded by Darkness

The windows of the Hiwatari mansion were pale and foggy, with a small crust of snow around the edge of the frames. It was night, and the only light aside from the misty moonlight that flitted through the windows was that of seven large pillar candles, floating on wicker rafts in an indoor pool full of closed lotus buds and gigantic koi. Their flickering flames danced with the shadows on the nearby walls, but failed to illuminate the darkest corners of the immense, cavernous room in which they floated.

Satoshi watched as the flames struck the frames of his thin glasses and splashed onto the marble-tiled floor, like sparks skittering away from a newly forged iron chain…

He lazily ran his fingers down a nearby length of chain. It was cold now—it had been many long, quiet years since it had been forged with magic and heat, in the dungeons directly below the very floor he sat on…forged to hold and enslave the artworks of the Hikari family…forged to protect them from the troublesome Phantom Thief Dark…

"How did it come to this?" he whispered. He glanced around, letting his eyes fall on some of the sealed artworks held in this room, this dungeon for the Hikaris' artworks…

He sighed, his melancholy feelings emanating out from him like an aura. He could feel the souls of all the sacred artworks in this room calling out to him, begging him to free them from their prison. Their voices were like the Harpies of Greek mythology, their screams so terrible that he felt they could tear him limb from limb. He could feel their angry mantras sneaking into his mind, their harbored power brooding just under the surface, waiting to strike at him like the bite of a coiled viper.

Pathetic things, Krad said. Art with a soul is an abomination. I don't know why your ancestors ever created them.

"Shut up, Krad," Satoshi spat coldly. "Even you must feel the presence of their magic calling you." A wicked smile crossed his face. "My ancestors created you, Krad. You're just like them."

…You just crossed the line, son of the Hikari.

Suddenly, terribly, a spike of pain was hammered into his skull, penetrating into his mind with the force of a freight train, knocking the wind out of him. Satoshi screamed in agony as he lost control of his body and his mind succumbed to the pain, sending spasms of shock up and down his arms and legs, causing him to writhe and shudder on the floor. "K—R—A—A—A—A—A—D!"

And then it was over. Satoshi lay on the floor, limp, sweating icy cold bullets, staring with misty eyes at a wall that was swirling in and out of focus. The flicker of candlelight had become a rolling fireball in his vision, and the vague outline of shadows seemed like giants doing cartwheels around Stonehenge.

Consider that your lesson in mortality, Hiwatari, Krad hissed, using Satoshi's false last name as an insult. Your ancestors may have created me…but they made me far too powerful for their own good. All the works of the Hikari were made with magic. Mortals, by their very nature, cannot understand magic…and so they value and distrust it. But when they dabble in it…they tend to go in over their heads. They drown, so to speak.

The bone-chilling clarity of the malicious laugh that followed cleared Satoshi's head a little, allowing him to gain enough presence of mind to at least sit up, leaning against the legs of a statue he didn't have the capacity or the desire to identify.

Krad's chuckle dissolved into a casual sigh. You are the result of such meddling. Over their head and surrounded by enough power to kill them all in one fell swoop, they created me—one with the power to keep their creations in line. He cackled again. Idiot mortals, your forefathers.

Satoshi said nothing. He didn't have the energy to argue with Krad—as much as it pained him to hear the abomination's voice. Instead, he adjusted his skewed glasses on the bridge of his nose. His vision returned immediately to normal.

Little did they know that I would always haunt their sons…intent on destroying the very artworks they designed me to protect.

Satoshi frowned. "Why?"

…What?

"It's a simple enough question, Krad," Satoshi whispered mischieviously. "Answer it."

Krad didn't answer immediately. Then, after a few moments of silence, he said, I couldn't tell you.

"Oh?"

At first, I considered saying it was out of spite…that I'm just haunting the sons of the Hikaris simply to bite the hand that feeds…But that isn't my style.

Satoshi snorted doubtfully.

Then I considered my hatred for all things beautiful.

Satoshi kept listening, but Krad mysteriously didn't continue.

"…Well?"

…I don't need to explain myself to you, Hikari.

Satoshi shrugged and stood up. "Do you want to know what I think?"

Not particularly, Krad said.

Satoshi chuckled and started to walk. "I think you have an inferiority complex."

Krad coughed suspiciously. Oh really?

Satoshi nodded. "I think your need to destroy my ancestors' artwork stems from the fact that you fear things that have more power than you."

And how do you figure that? Krad scoffed. Though his voice was strong, Satoshi intuitively knew that he had hit a vulnerable note. Krad was a part of him, after all.

"Your power comes from greed," he continued, stepping up to a tall marble statue. It was the Toki no Garashin—a winged Pegasus rearing back on its heels, ready to trample anyone standing in its path. "The artworks you desire to destroy have beauty, and they were made by loving hands, and their power was given to them by the imagination of an artist gifted with power beyond that of any mortal man." He paused. "Love, beauty, imagination…these things have more power than any magic."

Krad said nothing for a moment.

"You aren't answering because you know it's true."

You are dangerously close to incurring my wrath again, Hikari, Krad hissed, his tone warning.

Satoshi smiled wryly, knowing he had touched a nerve with his immortal alter ego. He caressed the marble skin of the Toki no Garashin lovingly, feeling its muscles ripple in response to the touch of its maker. Or, at least, one with the blood of its maker.

"The Guardian of the Wind," he whispered, listening as his words echoed in the cavernous space. "Sculpted to life by Sarashina Hikari."

At his words, the stone wings of the Toki no Garashin quivered, as though they were ready to take flight. Though he knew it was simply the candlelight glancing off of the pegasus' giant, shiny eyes, he could have sworn he saw them glittering to life.

What would you do if I took control of your body, right now, and tore the heart, soul, and body of this thing to shreds?

The shock of Krad's voice suddenly appearing in his head, coupled with the sudden sensation of his blood boiling in his veins, made Satoshi recoil violently, pulling away from the Toki no Garashin like it was a burning pillar of flame. "I won't let you," he whispered, shocking himself with the uncertainty of his voice. "I'll stop you."

Krad laughed bitterly, a laugh that reverberated even in the deepest corners of Satoshi's mind. Look at you. You're shaking in your bare feet. If you didn't keep the temperature down here at a balmy eighty-seven degrees, I'd swear the Ice Age was starting again.

Satoshi swallowed uneasily, attempting to gather himself again. "I won't let you destroy this…the legacy of my family. I was born a Hikari…my destiny is to create, not to destroy." Before Krad could protest, he continued, "And even if you are inside me, the protector turned destroyer…I won't let you stop me from fulfilling my destiny."

…Suit yourself. Krad sighed, and Satoshi found himself sighing as well—one of the damnable quirks that resulted from recombinant DNA. I'll leave you in the company of your treasures.

As Krad's menacing presence left Satoshi's mind, he sighed again. His muscles relaxed, and found himself moving toward the koi pond. By this time, the candles were about to put themselves out, the flames having burnt the wicks down dangerously close to a sea of melted wax.

He took a deep breath and blew out the nearest candle. And the next one…and then the next one. Gently, easily, with no hurry at all, he blew out all the floating candles, until only one was left.

This one he watched as it flickered uneasily, teetering on the brink of extinguishment. As though it knew it was drawing its last breath, the flame grew more intense, exerting a greater force, giving off a greater light and a greater amount of heat than ever before—so much, in fact, that a nearby lotus blossom opened prematurely, allowing Satoshi to have only the briefest glimpse of its vibrant pink blossom before the candle snuffed itself out, plunging the prison of Hikari artwork into darkness.

It was in this solitary, quiet darkness that Satoshi's cell phone rang brazenly. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket, flipped it open, and held it to his ear.

"What is it?"

The voice on the other line was Inspector Saehara's. "Commander Hiwatari, s-sir. We got a letter from the Phantom Thief Dark. It's a warning note."

"Where?"

There was a hesitant pause.

"Where is Dark going to strike!"

"He's coming to your house, Commander. The note says that tomorrow night, at 8 o'clock, Dark will be coming to steal the Toki no Garashin."

Satoshi snapped the phone closed and tossed it into the koi pond, where it sank to the bottom with the others. As he listened to the gentle waves ripple across the surface of the pond, lapping onto the marble floor, he remembered the words of his father, just before he had passed on.

"There is a person, Satoshi…a person who will stop at nothing to steal our treasures. You are the only one that can stop him. Inside of you is the savior of our line…Be strong, my son. Save us from the menace of the Phantom Thief…Dark!"

Satoshi closed his eyes and let a rare tear slide down his cheek. "Daisuke…why did it have to be you…that I must protect my line from?"