Hi!

This is the final version of my SI story i've been writting. I know I've posted and deleted at least 4 stories, each with a unique premise. However, i felt them lacking, either immersion on myself (the SI) or they didn't started in a point where i could truly feel satisfied. It is until i realized a good phase where the SI story could begin. I felt starting the character's age at 6 y.o. because it was the age where i truly got detached from my parents and entered Elementary School, where I first socialized and truly started the process of my growth and independence. Therefore this story will reflect that. :D i thank you all for your support.

Also massive thanks to keiyon, Sayuri-Colorless, Ricc850, MeMyselfAndI82907, , Lelouch Kaname, DTResistance, CrazyFangirl43700 and Chibi Chibi Chibi Sensei for accepting my Beta Reading request long ago for this story. I apologize for having to restart and start the story again. I promise this time is for good and I'll end it :D. I hope to see your advice and reviews of Ch. 1 soon.

Also, the heroine of this story will be Koneko :D. I also posted a poll on my profile with the premise of applying a Rule 63 on either Cao Cao, Georg or Diodora.

Normal Narration

"Dialogue."

'Thoughts.'

Retrospective narration (Flashback)

Alert: The SI POV's sections will be intricate in its writting style to allow a bi-sighted perspective and see more.

"Dialogue."

First Person P.O.V. Description and narration -Unless Otherwise Indicate

Normal Narration

~SI Thoughts.~

SI Subconscious *The Traitor* *(Will Appear in Ch. 1)

'Life isn't kind, but it comforts with its beautiful sights. '

From a window a red-haired man mused in his thoughts as he gazed at the activity of the everyday citizens he rules over. The title of King resting on his shoulders isn't any less easy than that time he waged war to take it for fair reasons. The building has nine levels, at least this part. All levels are to spread evenly the seventy-two pillars of the underworld. These pillars are the Underworld's devil families known as clans, each clan has a unique power which gives them a standing nobility title in between the society of devils. Such title of nobility demonstrates the worth and the political power of each family. Today will be the monthly meeting where as always the four great satans, rulers of devils, inform their actions as heads of government. Today shan't be the exception.

He could see rows occupying themselves. As his friends arrive, the absence of a seat of the four kings was dully noted. Yet his soft smile graced his face, the future of the devil faction is being birthed. Peaceful times mark the times where the most progress is done for a race. These generations are the ones that will change the underworld for better or for worse. He clutched his heart however, the past weighted, choices carry a weight with them. Hearts cannot be betrayed or silenced, and due to his very Gremory blood. His heart is above all else. He hoped, that maybe perhaps in the future, Grayfia Lucifudge. A good friend of his during the devil civil war, might forgive him for choosing Tikvah Furfur instead of her.

The Chamber of Representatives picks the Lords and Ladies of each devil clan, Thirty-Two pillars are the ones that are left. Each Devil King presents their progress and requests permission to implement their actions; the Supreme Representatives acts as the supreme Unicameral power of Devildom, established since the Dawn of the Civil War once it ended. The Chamber of Representatives represents all devils and approves all laws and notions asked by the Kings and acts as a instance of conflict-solving in case a problem between clans arises.

'No one said being Head of State and Government would be easy.' Sirzechs Gremory breathed out a short sigh, as the herald announced the start of the meeting. Before any matter could be addressed, a button was pressed.

The Herald announced.

"Lord Saeron Vapula, Baron of Vapula. Tamer of Lions and Civil War Veteran. Son of Byron and Marianne Bael." A brown-haired man with bulky build, in his mandatory black suit rose and stated out.

"Lords and Ladies of the Realm. Today, a challenge has been declared to our reign and to our fair Devil Kings. In our very lands, our very allies threaten to overthrow us and retrieve from us our powers. They make us guilty of the Civil War horrors they've caused, of the bloodshed and the shame, the Old Satan Faction has wormed itself between us. In our families, and our very own government. We must eliminate this threat, I request for a full-front attack to the Sitri Memorial Hospital and depose Gelluidur Bael Lucifer as Lord Bael and assassinate his son for being the bearer of the blood of Three of the Old Four Kings!" The man's purple eyes glowered with firm and a fire to them, obsession itself in obtaining the seat he has always desired but was denied.

"Outrageous." Lord Sitri was the first one to lash out at Lord Vapula for such a suggestion. "You're suggesting the assassination of my only Grandson, my Daughter's only son!"

Lady Sitri wore her poker-face well yet in it one can see the pronounced focused glance to Lord Vapula, always analyzing and calculating her enemies and those to her house.

"Attacking the underworld's only hospital is not the wisest choice Lord Vapula."

"When have the lives of others have been a problem? We celebrated Crowning Day with an act of selfless sacrifice for the children we today bear."

This caused many displeased and haunted faces to fill the faces of many Lords, yet no one looked as weighted as Sirzechs Gremory who spiked his power. And called everyone's attention.

"That day and that name shan't be spoken before me! Any of that man's actions or titles are an insult to House Gremory. If you still value any sentiment towards your sister Venelana. Refrain from glorifying a mass murderer, Uncle."

Votes were immediately made.

29 against vs. 3 in favor.

Lord Vapula growled, cursing out loud.

"Curse you all! You shall realize your mistake today! When that spawn and his relatives come right through our doors and claims himself as our Absolute Monarch and enslaves us all once more! May he not spare any of you." Lord Vapula turned around madly, glaring at each of the rows before settling his hate-filled glare to his nephew Sirzechs.

Before eventually vanishing from the meeting. The fast interaction of Lord Vapula with the chamber was reflected on the unpleasant faces of the Lords and Ladies of each of the pillars. Whispers were in the tongues of Lords and Ladies of the realm. How the man had a son, a powerless boy who possessed no power of destruction. A shame on the blood of Zekram Bael. Sirzechs Gremory sat back down wearing a frown on his face, he stared at his hands.

'I truly hope this generation doesn't makes the mistake we blindingly made.' Sirzechs acknowledged in his thoughts with a longing gaze settled on the roof of the chamber. Today would mark a special day, today the first child of one of the Four Great Satans will be born. He almost smiled casually at the thought.

'Who thought Serafall would've been the first?'

The constant beeping of the monitors is a harsh song that maintained his eyes half-lidded, the constant smell of disinfectant so much time has made him forget the smell of nature. The feel of the wind against the skin, the sheer feeling of the warmth of the sun, a tragic process in which made him depressed and crying himself every night. Death is hard to accept in any and all of its formats, moreover when life started to look up to him. Yet, life is hardly something that can be predicted or even foretold in the future. In reality there exist no prophecies and each human define their own fate. They are merely pitted before the very own formulae of causality and casualty.

Thirty, only son and sadly accepting of his fate.

God is the first one who takes the full-brunt punches of our anger, or Karma. He saved humanity and believed he would get to have a happy life, yet the cancer won't cure itself with a miracle or with the kindness of love. Akin to a parasite slowly growing, eating away his life.

It's funny, I'm pitted to die with my body giving away on me slowly. His thoughts mirrored the irony of the situation.

Two years ago his father died, and his mother followed a pair of years afterwards.

His whole body aches. And yet, in the lonely room, he braced through his self-disgust.His very abdomen was already opened with a colostomy bag, intestines that ceased to work. Already the oxygen mask being insufficient, soon enough they'll have to sedate him to put a tube through his throat to have an artificial machine give oxygen. A dark-haired male approached and through the epidural catheter inserted the analgesic agent which would aid my body.

"You have visits." Reginald, an Anesthesiologist. We studied in the same college and practiced residency in the same hospital. Funny it is, in my second year in Pediatric Surgery, my body simply started giving out on me. He burdened through the tears which welled in his eyes and swallowed.

Please, help me. Why do you want to take it all away? He gripped the sheets. The oncologist already came by with the surgeon team and they all reported the same news.

Tumor

Managed to be reducible and thus after reduced and extracted.

Stroke, partial nervous system infarction.

There was no need to tell them what his opinion about Endotracheal Intubation would be. Being sedated and not aware of his death would be something he couldn't bear…a piece of himself, even such a tiny one clings to the fact that he would be able to see his loved ones one last time.

~God, I apologize for all my sins…for not being the most faithful of your sons. I need you to show a miracle…~ Clinging to religion as the last portion of his atheist and mostly religiously skeptic life.

In a moment to those things fantastical or impossible, as a medium to anesthetize, it's realist, it's dark, but a truth. We cannot deny our weakness or our emotional weakness, we need of others, and we are alone, religion or work are our only coping methods and once you cannot work, religion is all that is left, Religion, my emotional opium…all it causes in the end, is for him to lose hope each time more.

Faith.

Faith is to believe, but what happens when you cannot do so anymore.

He sees him approach from the isolated team of Internists and Surgeons with a stack of papers inside a manila folder, he holds his stern and empathetic expression. It is hard these days to maintain a professional detachment when we are prone to emotions. This career ain't a walk in the park, after all. They all have to take hits from life lest we feel not real. He stood by his side mildly fidgeting as he turned his eyes to the paper. He studied medicine and he knows exactly what he has. Reginald was about to explain, but he guessed, his faulty personality to interrupt others before they talk got better of him. His very own anxieties speaking, knowing with anticipation the intentions of others.

"Ferdinand-."

"I know," He interjected before he could speak, shaking the head gently in a negative, not wanting him to waste his breath.

"I want to have my last breath conscious, my friends, conscious as I can be, do please, I know it's selfish, I don't blame you and I know nobody will. For that reason, do please, let my eyes contemplate one last time…could I see the gardens?" Reginald with a stern nod took the papers back. Ferdinand felt, fear, of his future, the uncertainty. "Reginald." He turned and met his glance, as Ferdinand's eyes turned to the bed-sheets, trying to find a motive, anything.

"Is there a life after death?" He asked, wishing to be the wind to escape from himself.

~WHY DO I HAVE TO DIE!~

"I'll paint myself another life, I shall decorate in my dreams and all my desires, in that afterlife." He closed my eyes and glanced to the ceiling. "Please, burn my body, all of it; leave no ashes, burn my soul, leave nothing, I want nothing…please destroy me." Reginald frowned at Ferdinand's voice, it was the nearest thing to suicide he could have. May as well eliminate him from existence, his memory, everything he was. To be destroyed forever, wanting nothing with this life anymore. Too much sadness and self-disappointment. With a nod, he left as the party of doctors were outside and he could hear outbursts and discussions, it was usual; Internists and Surgeons fighting each other, Anesthesiologists being in the middle.

·Knock· ·Knock·

The knocks on the door brought Ferdinand out of his musings. The doorknob twisted ever so gently and revealed Andree. A beautiful tanned-skinned woman with the most beautiful brown eyes he has ever seen. Black formal pants, black low-heeled shoes and a blue-colored blouse underneath her white coat, her curly-hair arranged in a high ponytail.He felt ashamed and embarrassed of himself as she walked forth. Her face looked strained, sad almost.

Is it for me?He felt hopeful, a twisted hopefulness.

But I was sadder at the fact that he'll die, not being able to see her ever again. The silence was hard to swallow between them both, he held the covers up to his chin."Hey." He croaked weakly shyly and restrained himself. She greeted with the same shyness and polite moderation and waved lightly at me. "I'm embarrassed," He called out awkwardly as she glanced at his bedridden state.

It was hard to believe that someone with so many dreams as myself was stopped by this. "Why?" She Asked kindly and with empathy and he glanced to the side rather sadly. "I'm bedridden and slowly getting weaker, I'm dying." She shook her head by her side was the paper, to get me to accept the mechanical ventilation, she would sign for him if he allowed it.

"You can go on; you don't have to stop your dreams." She trailed off and he sighed, turning towards her.

She looked so beautiful in her solemn self, he saw her smile only once from afar. "Dreams…" He mused out, asking himself of his dreams, a long time ago Ferdinand simply ceased to have them. Was it perhaps the loss of innocence, or just simply, being so bland that he didn't have dreams. "You can continue your own." He motivated her and she gasped.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, denying it so.

"This isn't about me." She tried to maintain her last composure, but Ferdinand closed my eyes and glanced at the ceiling. On the bedside table a tiny blue box rested, it was almost months ago he almost forgot of its existence. The past almost seemed to have never existed. "Would you've said yes?" Ferdinand asked out of the blue, he barely had any leftover fear or inhibitions, this could finally ask the question he held back for months. The chemotherapy was too much weight for him. Would Andree have said yes if he were more forward?

"…" She stayed silent and glanced at her lap.

He took a breath and turned to her. "I concentrated so much on my studies that, I barely had time to focus on myself…I feared and stayed on the sidelines. Losing all that I loved. At least I managed to try speak out my feelings." He contemplated and chose to state it so clearly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

A snort came out as his reply. Tears cascading down his eyes as he spared his lap a glance. It was already too late, and he didn't want to stare at the hopeful expectation. Why shamefully repeat what was already answered? When he would die today or drunkards, losers, and dopamine-fried freaks gamble. Such was grandfather's words.

"This might not mean much to you, please; let the medicine go and live, life is short and so much is already given and risked that we barely have time to see ourselves. I…I never managed to love myself. Until already it was so late. Don't lose yourself as I did…don't end up like this. Please." He closed his eyes and hung the head.

"Please, sign it." She pleaded to him as if hoping he would, but all she gained was a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry."

A young female nurse, younger than him. Blond-haired and forest green eyes dressed in white, prepared him, sat him in a wheelchair. He smiled kindly, even if his shape seemed to deteriorate. Andree however argued.

"So this is the Story of Ferdinand C? Taking it all with himself!?"

...

"...Why?"

The recurrent question came from her lips reasoning for perhaps swallowing everything into HIS own darkened being to which he simply didn't answer. His saddened eyes stared at her firm ones.

"Please..." Raising her head to meet his eyes, puffy red eyes that were just about to cry. He shook my head. "I am tired Andree. I've fulfilled most of my purpose in life now that I've realized it." He smiled, he loved; he was hated and he prevailed to be happy enough to have luxury. Yes, the tender caress of a lover was never felt by his skin. Yet, there were more things that encompassed love than the tender caress of a lover.

It is a sad reality with Middle and High-Income families the generational staff passes and yet it is when in the middle of the shit-fest called adult life where you realize that your parents educate you and promote you for a world that very much is more twisted, darker, harsher and ever more predatory. Andree was foolish as he was fooled, we were all fooled by the world and by society. Educated for a world that in the end turned around to be different and no doubt his parents died seeing him the same lonely person as he had been for a long while. It is rather funny to see the unfairness of life yet that's what it's the component of reality, some are born rich that they have to barely do anything and others have to bust their back to build their lives and find out the tables have turned and the game they've been indoctrinated to play is very much outdated, old and long ago discarded.

Taken away by the wheelchair to the gardens, connected to the oxygen tank dutifully. Taken through the hallways, I saw the Pediatric ward one last time as they took me towards the gardens. The sound of my sadness dulled with a relief, a relief. A freedom in the chest, of realization that I was blessed to have lived a good life. It all flashed before me, it was so sudden when I found myself by a door. A door opened brightly to reveal a beautiful garden; Grass, Roses, and trees all around, slowly being led to the center, into the grass,

"Wait."

My hands gripped the chair's side as I was up, muscles screaming at the strain they were forced to. I turned to see Andree, sweating and heaving. She firmly faced me, distanced.

"If you give up I…I." She hesitated speaking, she glanced at me and hung her head. Raising her head once more she confronted.

"I won't be able to know how true my feelings are."

…

Did she?

"Please, don't give up." She pleaded and he nodded and gave her a smile.

"Do you-?"

"Yes, I hold feelings for you."

He removed my mask to breath it one last time.

"I'm sorry.." He shook his head and turned away. All while she had her eyes widened, inwardly realizing what was happening.

"You can only keep running so much!" She cried out in exasperation towards him.

Perhaps the next time it'll be better, I promise.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, for a woman who had to be dragged to the sad life he was a protagonist of and for the unborn child he'll never see. His duty with the world has ended. The pain in his body spread so much as he clung to the wall so tightly. Embraced by her on his back, what was left of his strength to slowly perhaps, die. Be taken by death itself, while he was in the warm arms of the person that in the end confessed to him.

"You're married." He commented sadly.

"I married...believing i would've been happy. Yet, I felt nothing. I had no support; and eventually he cheated on me." She could barely contain her own sadness as she spoke out. "I was wrong, I should've taken you since the prom. i should've taken you for myself and never let you fly away. Perhaps this-."

"Some aren't made for love..." I told with finality.

She grimly stared at the floor, holding onto his wounded self. As if attempting to have a tug-of-war with death. "You can't leave." She stated and he could only smile sadly.

"I'm tired Andree..."

It all seemed so far away as darkness seemed to engulf him. It was too late to escape from God's Bloody Rage. Death's embrace. His lips curled up in one last smile, to the world and to his own self. He realized it, there was hope in his world and in his life.

"Perhaps...if there is a next life." He mused deliriously.

Thank you...

He can be a free bird and love others. He had proven the world that love can be truly nurturing, that its not toxic. That with his own honesty and kindness, empathy, he can obtain someone's love.

Dying a painful death, enduring…with a smile upon the lips.

~I can finally drop the pen and keyboard. The Chronicles of a struggling boy who wanted to help others and be loved have finally ended. Not bad, huh, not bad at all. What will be my next story's name?~ He thought and had a good idea.

The young rat leaps into a new adventure.

Indigo eyes sharply eyed, above him beautiful green skies with purple hues, the light of the day a beacon to mean the dawn of a new day with new opportunities on life. For men, women and children alike enjoying the spoils of what life can give. Air to breathe, the constant sound of the waves of the ocean crashing with the rocks of the surface. The ocean, a beautiful blue color, a sea wild yet tame that in its beautiful dance of waves relaxes even the most hardened of men. From a balcony's edge with a beautiful sight of the ocean, on a rare angle it rarely allowed itself to be view.

~Wherever you are…I hope you the best.~

A silent prayer was sent into to image of the morning's ocean. It all starts with a single pulse, a universal sound of life and vitality. A symbol that can mean many things, love, affection, birth and many more.

"My Gorgalad…my dear Gorgalad." A woman with tears in her eyes burst out her emotions to him. The first words said to a man who was supposed to be dead.

On the balcony's edge, with a hand resting on it. Paper and ink, a book, closed and sealed.

The Underworld, the realm where Devils live, hardly is appreciated or allows its natives to appreciate its beautiful crystalline oceans and sights it can offer. The problem with most nobility is that they never give themselves the chance to open themselves, that is the reason of their arrogance and why in history have been always fighting rebellions from those they rule over. The Devils, a supernatural magical race created by Lucifer with the body of his wife Lilith. Creating the first three princes and afterwards creating seventy-two noble devils with a few counted extra-demon families. Giving them all powers, and giving to each low and middle classed citizens to rule over.

The figure of Devil King, once the symbol of Devil Power and the seat of absolute power in all its figures of word. Was usurped and taken away by the remnants of the 72 noble devils the Original Lucifer created, this decisions stemmed after the King's death. And the Bael Family who ruled in stead of the absent King. It in the end lead to the bloodiest war ever known by devil kind; men died and women and children of the four princely families were all brought to the sword. The cruel act, something reproached by the Bael, was done. When the war was done, all traces of Devil Culture and history before the civil war were destroyed and rewritten to the vision that would please the new seats of power.

This prestigious place of darkness and sin, littering with powerful castles and towns around them. Thriving and survival is the main priority for the harmonious body of Kings that have divided by four the functions that a single supreme being once did, but it was also a place for a simplified yet persistently complex issue that ate away every single person bothered enough to become aware of it, which gave the Devils a nasty reputation and opened them for mocking of all other myths and magical races they shared the universe with.

Extinction

Extinction has become a glaring problem that fills the thoughts of studious nobles who aren't ignorant or obnoxious enough to not see the glaring problem. Something which was heightened with the end of the Devil Civil War. Counter measured were immediately applied to counter this horrible development, yet instead of being effective it exacerbated the problem to the point of leaving merely a few decades before Devils disappear from the universe completely.

Most of these devils, at least noble born ones, live in exuberant castles with luxuries all around them. And the castle near the ocean wasn't an exception, the castle had a very ancient look, unlike most modern households which chose a more mansion-like design, the Bael Family strictly chose the late-medieval castle design, it was overall a beautiful settlement. Treasure and riches weren't lacking for a devil family, such system maintained and carefully administered by the Agares Family, it has been for generations their duty. In between such big hallways and even bigger halls, it would be common for eyes to get lost in the gigantic luxury Devil castles offered, in between so much servants taking care of such buildings, it gave no room for many to not learn the name of their staff except those on the upper leading brackets.

Devil Families, are a nobility structure where the first born inherits it all.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Father."

A silver-haired boy straightened out of reflex, staring yet at the depths of the ocean, a beautiful sight compared only to the greatest pleasures in life. The suit he wore which was on rare occasions due to its tightness and not commodity in movement, restricting freedom of allows skin to breath for the sake of sharpness and fit with social standards of formal etiquette. As part of the high-society one is expected to wear the most expensive silks treasures worth could by for the sake of appearance, the eyes judge and are where people get the worth of a man. The coveted first impression. From a race that used to consume souls and be the beasts crawling in the night, it was reduced to a political complex apparatus where power was mostly measured by the bloodline you were born with and the treasure you boast. One can easily see now why devils are being extinguished and discarded for the sake of reincarnating sacred gear users and other beings.

Power.

"Everyone's waiting for you downstairs." Taking a hold of his spiky hair. I closed my eyes as my father tried fixing it for me to look perhaps a bit less untamed and rebellious. His lips curving into a face of effort as he tried to comb a spot but another would defy his notions. Devil clans are complex structures with inside traditions each of their own with a set of rituals and unique criteria which are all packed into a concept so big and yet so simple, that makes things so complex and yet unique.

Family

Being in charge of such structures or even representing them is a duty not many find comfortable or even likeable, heck, many young heirs just fall mad in their lust for power and end up corrupted. Their ways dragging their families to the bottom of the chain, allowing new families to rise to the spotlight.

"I am having doubts."

"We all have them." My father replied sympathetically, a figure of immense wisdom and knowledge, power and a pillar of strength where someone as complicated as myself could rest. Knowing his power was a comfortable shield and yet also an unnerving statement that he was meek, wimpy and weak.

"I was your same age when my father had to bestow upon me the heirship of the Bael Clan while he took charge of the Agares Clan."

The relaxing sound of the dancing waves of the ocean, meeting their end in the rocky hills proved to be the most reassuring comfort he could receive.

"I…I still feel unsure." A pair of hands found themselves firmly on his shoulder before his Father's right hand went to his cheek.

It didn't stung, in fact it felt…warm. It wasn't a hesitant touch or even one for aggression, but one of profound deep affection. I found myself staring at darkness and a tightness engulf my being completely.

An embrace.

And I didn't know how to react.

"We believe in you and we both love you." His father's voice reassured and tried to undo the hug.

"Not yet…please." He politely asked.

~I...love this sensation.~ Those were my only thoughts. After such an emotional moment how could a child's lips not curve upwards in a genuine smile. Love and affection is the best teacher and master, if only people learned it instead of making duty their master. Life on earth would be different. With more security and less hesitance, he turned to get ready for this day. Only to find once again darkness engulfing my vision and once again restrained in a tighter embrace.

"Son-chan!" Swayed like a doll side by side as a woman's voice spun around and giggled in pure joy. At the expense of dizziness and possible nausea. Once outside of the restraining boa-constrictor quality hug, the woman's lips smeared all over his face and cheeks. As thousands of magical stars were between them she winked at him.

"Happy Birthday!" The crown of his head was kissed, his ears. "My baby is growing." The overly affectionate woman combed his hair and straightened his uniform, cleaning until stars instead of dust came out of her efforts and now the young man had a brilliance unnatural and yet so fitting to his presence.

"You pamper him too much." His father grunted, maintaining his arms crossed and head turned caused the dark haired woman to giggle. "Jealous much Gellu-tan?" The blushing man pouted.

When you are asked; Who do you love the most? Many name their wife, fiancee, girlfriend, or even a friend. Never truly being able to name someone else but someone they are so intimately attached, and they confuse and believe intimacy is simply physical when however it transcends, it's not just physical but also an aspect of emotion itself. An aspect of the self which mediates and shapes our personality, our entire world and our very mind. The way we see the world and how the world sees us. Sadly sometimes the soul, a simple repository for energy constantly retrieved of its memories and given back life gives not, experience.

"Operation Birthday is On!" My mother struck a silly pose, not caring for how people saw her.

She wore her pink magical girl dress. And the sharpest tools in the shed might understand her, if she lived the life of any and most sheltered nobles of the days in the sixteen to seventeen century. Her life met the light when the twentieth century and its trends. I respect them since, unlike most War Veterans who end up as perhaps complex people with an overly obsession with duty and yet faux perceptions and messianic hopefulness about love. They both are down to earth, emotionally intelligent and splendid leaders in their own right. She outstretched her right arm which held a star-tipped small rod, which when she did such gesture tiny magical stars were emitted. That's my mother, the most powerful woman in the underworld and the most childish woman to the world of devils. She took in the character of an heroine named Miracle Levia-tan, a magical-girl which defeats evil with magic and protects the weak. She's televised and has so since before her son was born. Being a foreign affairs authority, she is also in charge of making alliances with other myths to promote friendship of the Devil Faction. Most of the time she is occupied either recording episodes, doing Foreign Relations endeavors or around the Bael Castle keeping things in order.

The mother-father duo naturally bickered and chuckled with each other. Father's right arm encircled my neck and dragging me near to him. It caused me to almost stumble. Descending the stairs, a dark haired man with deep purple eyes waited for us. Black suit fully tided and arranged, not a single speck of dust on his being. His ancestor Zekram Bael and the first Bael to ever exist.

"It is good to meet you, I was starting to believe you three might've escaped in one of Serafall's impromptu family trips."

"Mou, they are fun."

Lady Bael stuck out her tongue at the ancestor who sweat-dropped at the mother's immature antics. Escorting us to the castle's gardens, two throne-like chairs were on a podium a short gap of space between the podium and its stairs.

"Many familiar faces could be seen, but duty had to be taken care of first. "Ferdinand, stand on the podium facing both thrones, you both know how it's done." The ancestor went to the rest of the invitees which stood in the garden. Glasses of wine on their hands as they talked. Ladies and men dressed in dark colored suits and women in expensive bright dresses to heighten their walked the stairs and on the podium.

I knelt before them.

"Lords and Ladies and dear family members."

Lord Bael lightly rose his voice to address the audience, the mutters of talk stopped as they all turned around and paid him attention. Father took a breath and his right hand taken a hold of by my mother who also looked firm and solemn.

My name is Gorgalad Bael Agares.

I'm a Self-Insert born in this world, someone from the 'original world' that either 'shifts' into a different universe or simply takes the life of a determined character. Either relevant (known) or irrelevant secondary (unknown).

"Today is a very special day for House Bael…"

The system, which coordinates life and death in this world. Crafted by God himself, and a sentient computer which has domain and power over everything that is born in this world. In a show of glitch in the system, a minimal failure of fabrication, I somehow managed to be born as a…Original Character (OC) in this universe, a character that in the 'Canonic' version of this universe. A blank file. Someone who isn't supposed to exist in this urban magical fantasy of True Angels, Fallen Angels and Devils. Being part of a generational gap. By the time I was conscious enough of my surroundings, I discovered that I was the Bael clan's heir by blood and, my Grandfather Eddard whom wanted to retire from the duties of leading a devil family, made it clear I was his heir too. Therefore the burden of the two most powerful Devil Pillars fell upon my infant shoulders.

"…the birth of a heir in a devil family is a symbol of stability and strength. It means the very survival of a bloodline for at least another millennia."

As hard as it might be to born as a Self-Insert doesn't makes you powerful or even a prodigy. Compared to other devil nobles, being born with the power of destruction was hardly anything special. Most of the Clan's members bearing the same power. The same with the Water-Manipulation powers I inherited from my Sitri blood. I wasn't a gifted child or even prodigious by the standards of the Devil Society.

"My son Gorgalad Bael Agares, is apt aged to be crowned Prince. …you are not a child anymore in the eyes of your equals."

In my pseudo-isolated state of living in the Bael Castle, has made me complacent, ignorant and selfish. I find myself where I dream to be; having a family with a rich historical background and an even richer historic bibliography to read absorbs most of my time. Even if my Lord Father and Mother prefer me to go outside and do more practice with my magic and self-defense skills. Which are done diligently and dutifully as the Heir I must be.

Lord took a hold of the crown and presented it before me, stored inside an ornately-detailed wooden box. The crown looked ancient and it was a simple demonic metal circlet with a square-cut topaz and sapphires into it. My Lord Father crowned me. "Raise now Gorgalad Bael Agares, son of Serafall Sitri and Gelluidur Bael. You're officially the heir of Houses Bael and Agares. The child has died…"

And all the invitees chanted in unison.

"And the crowned Dark Prince rises."

I will be the prince the Bael and Agares Clans deserve.

As everyone applauded he waved at them. Once lowering himself from the stairs, people continued chatting as his back was patted a little bit too strong which almost made him fall face-first to the grass.

"Gorgalad!" Sairaorg voiced out loud as he approached by my side, my gargantuan of a half-cousin is perhaps one of the strongest devils in the underworld, a figure of respect and who possessed possibly the best peerage. By his side an orange-haired servant bowed respectfully. "I congratulate you for your 12th anniversary my Lord."

"Don't be so tight Regulus. This is my cousin here we're talking about." Sairaorg called forth and from his hand brought forth a gift wrapped in blue and golden motif paper wrap and a indigo-colored ribbon. Never let it be said that the aspiring Vapula Lord and strongest devil of his generation doesn't has an eye for detail. "On the behalf of Lord Sairaorg's peerage, we wish you also a happy 12th Birthday my Lord." Kuisha Abaddon was originally intended to be shoved up on him, her uncle Bedeze was one of the many Lords who aided his uncle Saeron Vapula to rebel against his father's reign as Lord Bael. He apologized to his father, stating that he wanted to bond with Koneko first before he could be dropped another servant. Also, he could see it in Kuisha's eyes that she enjoyed serving someone as Sairaorg.

He bowed back in reply.

"And I thank you for coming." He replied to his elder cousin and elder brother figure whom nodded to him. As he went forth, he found a blue-haired boy drinking juice with a blond-haired woman with a revealing dress, tanned skin and with facial markings, with a grin.

"So, Mr. Prince now?" The blue-haired male teased him, as he rolled his eyes.

"You know how they get with the titles." He chuckled out loud, as the bells on his pants jingled making sound around. In most people it would irritate him since he hated noise. However, with his best-friend he might justify it and even bear it.

"Cheer up, not everyone can boast the fact they are heirs of two of the 72 pillars. You can strike up two marriages, lucky sod." He playfully smacked his left shoulder as he drank more juice. He was dressed formally as much as he could yet his button up shirt was unbuttoned with half the buttons, the belt of his pants had bells hanging from and his blazer was of a garish neon blue. Which didn't fit the black pants and shoes he wore at all.

"From me." Handing his gift, he took it, stacking it up with Sairaorg's and he rose an eyebrow, it felt lighter than his cousin's. "You're staying?" He asked however his friend looked to the side. "You know how my parents are, but I'll do this time."

He grinned and fist-bumped with him.

"Ferdinand." He turned and met with his Aunt Sona Sitri who stood there alone, ignoring the loud friend he had.

"Aunt Sona." He replied as his lips curved up, of all the people that supported him the most during his life and stayed by his side, none has ever been since th beggining as she has. Embracing her as he chuckled, she embraced him too. "You've grown bigger."

Once disengaging from the hug she spoke.

"Been working all day. Didn't wanted to leave you chatting alone with the adults." She stated casually as she took off her glasses as she stared expectantly at him. "Will all the invited come?" She asked casually as his smile was soon met bitterness.

"The devil society thought that losing the pre-engagement party of Rias Gremory would insult our ruling King Sirzechs." The face she did was a half-forced smile as she nodded, yet one could've seen her fists clenched tightly. With a smile, he simply stared to the side.

"I don't mind, really. I prefer to enjoy my birthday with those I cherish the most." He replied to her which made her close her eyes and for a single second, she cleaned her glasses once more, and passed an arm by her eyes to clean them also.

"When is your appointment with Lord Beelzebub?" She wondered out of his appointment to create his evil pieces and have them finally tied to him. "Tomorrow actually. Most devil children would've had them already at 10, yet since mine were a custom order made of a special design and materials I send to Lord Beelzebub. He took a pair of years to end this special commission for me." With this she widened her eyes.

"You managed to convince him to use Star Sapphires as the base to produce them and be weighted with a transitioning metal core composed of the alloy of Aximium and Olympian Obsidian?" She asked as he nodded, he brought forth a tiny journal made about supernatural minerals. "They've used the same components of Agreas Crystals for many years, tasting other components with minimal amounts of Agreas Crystals would be an interesting endeavor in the process."

She nodded, mostly apparently it was aesthetic since they kept the same performance as Agreas Crystals from what she was described. Yet her nephew found the subject worth of research and a passionate topic to speak about whenever he's with others. As he went on to speak passionately about Devil History and Healing Magic.

"But what about you? How have you been?" He always had time to ask others about themselves also, as insisting as he was on it.

And she wouldn't change a hair about him. After all, she promised her elder sister she was going to marry and take care of him. The precious treasure of their family.

Gelluidur Bael

With a clenched fist, Gelluidur stared from his office's window at the party going on. After the crowning ceremony of his son, he chose to retrieve himself back to his office to meet with Zekram Bael, his wife following after him.

"To believe they would ignore my descendant's 12th birthday and ascension as a devil-grown." Zekram Bael's face held a hateful scowl as he gripped the desk's edge tightly.

Serafall stared to the side sadly.

"It seems that our devil society weren't prepared for our love." Gelluidur bitterly expressed as he turned to Serafall. "Our son, who bears your smile; my grandfather's hair and the Bael's eyes." He wondered on.

"Tell him." Zekram growled forth. Which Serafall turned her widened eyes from Zekram to Gelluidur.

"Absolutely Not! My son is still too young to be told the truth." She called back and turned to her husband who glanced into her eyes.

"He's grown." He excused and was about to go out to the party, yet Serafall took his hand. "Madara." SHe called his secret name, intimate between them. He turned sharply at her.

"Twelve is too young."

"He cannot be a boy forever Sera."