A/N: No, this is not abandoned, although I did leave it floating around due to a few different reasons (goes for all my fanfics past last September to be honest). But as I always say, the chapter stopped flowing, yet the ideas and lore keep building (and oh boy this has had quite the development regarding in how it differentiates from the main story, of which I'm also writing the next chapter).

A huuuge difference compared to the main story is the fact that the Magic War, which in the main story ended a year before canon, here is still ongoing, albeit not as a fully conventional war. On a side note, the original idea for this chapter has been pushed for the next one.

With that said, I invite you to read, enjoy and review (or don't, but hopefully yes).

Disclaimer: "Highschool DxD" is not my property, all rights to its respective author. This is merely a fan project and I only claim ownership of the original elements in the story.

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Chapter 3
Sour Memories

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"Breach and clear. Eight, right. I got left. Fourteen, center. Lethal force authorized." Fourteen nodded, his back against the wall as he acknowledged the instruction, counting the seconds in his mind while controlling his breath. His commander went from five to one on his left and made a fist, prompting his partner, Eight, to blow the door inwards with a single fist after casting a simple silence spell. They rushed in a moment later.

He went third, straight towards the centre of the room. Despite the shots he heard by his left, Fourteen found nothing but an empty floor in front of him. He checked his right: Eight had just knocked unconscious what appeared to be a civilian, and to his left, his commander shot twice towards the last person in front of him, a second corpse by its feet making him feel uneasy. He hated killing.

His attention went back towards his sector when he heard a door open, instinctively calling a magic circle on his fist and throwing it frontwards. The man that appeared through the door couldn't register the action, hitting the wall to his back with enough force to dent the structure and falling unconscious the second after.

"Check the bodies. Fourteen, sweep the building."

Fourteen nodded, crossing the door through which the man he knocked out appeared. The hallway was clear, and so were the other rooms, all engulfed in an exasperating silence. 'Strange,' he thought. He was sure whatever occupants were in there would've been alerted by that point. He gulped a bit before heading upstairs, his fists clenched and ready to throw another punch as his eyes scanned for an ambush, his ears searching for any clue.

There were three rooms upstairs, two of them open and clear. One showed signs of its occupants leaving in a rush. 'Probably from where the man downstairs came from,' Fourteen reasoned. The third room was closed, and, as he approached silently, occupied, as he observed through the crack of the wood with the frame. Three men, all in guard around the door. They were also armed, which made them hostiles.

He refrained from clicking his tongue as a reflex, although he couldn't help tensing himself. Going through the door was the clear-cut way, but aside from the slim chance of them hurting him with their bullets, the noise they'd make would alert the entire sector of the city. He went to the room next to it, placing his palm on the wall. A simple short-lived silence spell later, he threw back his hand, and…

[BOOST!]

The feeble wall was no match for the armoured fist with several times its normal strength, allowing Fourteen to jump through the structure half a second later. The three men didn't stood a chance: two were beaten into unconsciousness with a single punch before they reacted, and the third barely managed to raise his rifle before being hurled forward by a spell, his head meeting the fist in crimson armour face-first just before the silence spell wore off. Fourteen surveyed the scene, nodding to himself before dispelling the [Sacred Gear] and searching the room, picking the three bodies with a wind spell, and moving everything back to the first floor.

"Any luck?" Inquired his commander, to which he nodded. Fourteen handed the few documents he found upstairs, dropping the three men he carried with him to the side for Eight to search for.

"You guys found something?" He asked out of curiosity. His commander simply shrugged, nodding before throwing something at him. He caught it with ease, finding a ring with a complex symbol engraved.

"[Echelon]?" Fourteen muttered, raising an eyebrow. "I thought they disbanded last year."

"I thought so too. Someone came back from the dead, as it seems, and without the devils help for a change."

"Sounds like someone didn't learn anything after the war. They were practically hunted to extinction, weren't they?" Eight asked, still searching around the unconscious people.

"Yet here they are and cooperating with the cabals again… we need to inform command of this."

"Are we allowed to contact divisional command, though?" Asked Fourteen, scratching the back of his head. "I know we have radio silence for this mission, but given the importance of this…"

"The Council will understand. I hope so, at least." Declared the commander, sighing. "Sixth Division is still mostly aligned with us regarding internal politics. If there's a command it is safe to speak to, it's this. Prepare to bail out soon."

Eight and Fourteen nodded, yet the latter casted a worried look at their victims. They usually took prisoners, tied them for when they came back, or let them be, but in this situation…

"What about them?" He pointed to the still alive four unconscious men.

"What about them?" Repeated his commander, and despite the pre-dawn darkness, Fourteen could bet he saw him raise an eyebrow. Meanwhile Eight, his search of the bodies finished, moved towards the exit to mount watch.

"We can't let them give the alarm. The easiest thing is to tie them up, but…"

"Huh, sir?!" Eight quietly called from the door. "You might want to see this!"

The two made their way to the house entrance, where Eight was. He shakily pointed towards the raising points in the sky, which slowly elevated until they reached the limit of a magic dome covering the city.

"What… the… f…" the commander muttered.

"Those… those are magical attacks, aren't they? Quite powerful at that." Eight muttered, his eyes wide in disbelief and voice shaking from nervousness.

"What if they were alerted of our raid?" Fourteen asked.

"Impossible. We sent an EMP and a magic pulse before going in, and those attacks come from downtown, too far away for them to have heard us," his commander answered, biting his lower lip. "They couldn't have recovered their magic before we knocked them out either."

"Would they be for the battle of the city?" Eight chimed in, yet the commander shook his head.

"No, it can't be. Fighting is low intensity position warfare for now, and the few times it escalates it's always when one side performs an offensive."

"Was there any offensive scheduled?"

"Negative. Neither from them, if prisoner data is any good."

"But then how? Is it for another part of the city…? Oh, oh no."

"What is it, Fourteen?"

"Analog communication. The last three I took out were entrenched in a room upstairs, tons of fried equipment. They could've had some analog gear in there to communicate in case of emergency." He turned to his two teammates, eyes wide and cold sweat over his forehead. "We're dealing with [Echelon], right? Tricks like this are how they always worked, isn't it?"

"Bloody hell…"

"Wait… isn't that coming towards us?" Eight interrupted, taking a step back. "That's too many spells for three guys."

""Huh?"" Both Fourteen and their commander turned their heads up, noticing the now-descending spells changing directions and increasingly accelerating…

…directly towards them.

"Shit! Run, now!"

But it was too late: the attacks' speed was constantly augmenting, and the three barely managed to get to the street before they reached them. The last thing Fourteen managed to hear before being engulfed by a sea of flames was-

"-Hyoudou, wake the fuck up!"

Issei's eyes shot open as he jumped from his seated position, his legs going from limp on the floor to kneeling and his hands reaching for a non-existent gun at his belt. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was exactly, noticing the disapproving (and slightly scared) gaze of his boss at the bar. Looking around to avert his gaze, Issei noticed the backroom behind the bar's counter, full of crates, lockers and a few personal belongings of the people that worked there. Also noticing how close he was to the corner, he arrived at the simplest conclusion: he sat against the wall earlier, falling asleep accidentally.

That would also explain the bitter memory from a few months prior, unfortunately.

"Sorry, boss. Fell asleep."

"That I see." He crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised as he inspected Issei. He looked no worse for wear, despite the messy dream he seemed to be having and the fact he was sleeping on the floor. "Are you ok? While I like people dedicated to the job, I don't have uses for people without proper rest. You know that, right?"

"Yessir." Issei dragged the combined words a little, pulling up to his feet. "But don't worry, I'm still able to work properly. Just came here to have a little rest in between shifts."

"Uh-hu…" his boss nodded slowly, clearly not buying the excuse. "Well, whatever. But if you need to take a day off or something to get some proper rest, just send me a message, 'kay? We're not going bankrupt just because a bartender is absent once or twice."

"Sure thing. Well, I should get going."

"See ya."

Issei nodded and fixed his hair before stepping out of the backroom into the counter. The evening shift was almost done, its last minutes intertwining with the start of the early-night shift that followed it. That also meant that the bar, for a while, had twice the people working on it, which in turn gave way to an easiness to get drinks for the customers… and some infighting among the workers as well.

"Who the hell took the rum?"

"Ya can't do a martini to save yer ass, damnit!"

"Move it, move it!"

"Table 14, quickly or we'll lose our tip!"

"Do we even get tipped in here…?"

"Don't know, don't care! Move it!"

"Well, that's a custom order from hell if I've seen one…"

Issei sighed inwardly at the scene, pulling up his sleeves and walking towards the mid-point between the centre and the corners of the counter: the spot with the lowest number of servers and customers of all. He questioned himself about joining the mess but decided against it, instead staying in the background and waiting for the evening shift servers to vacate the area in the upcoming minutes.

"Bored?" He heard someone ask, raising his gaze to meet theirs. Chocolate eyes met blue eyes, and Issei smiled as he took a couple steps forward to meet lieutenant Alice Meter face-to-face.

"Not really. Just waiting for the counter to clear itself of people. On both sides," he replied, uncrossing his arms. Instead, he chose to support himself on the table with his hands. "It's messy, yes, but the good kind of messy."

"I know what you mean." The German blonde shrugged, taking a seat in the stool next to her. "It's a different kind of messy if one compares it to combat."

"Like the ones you went to do at Alexandria, right?" He allowed himself a victorious smile, teasing Meyer. "Oh wait, no, that was just an exercise, was it?"

"Smartass." Alice rolled her eyes as she held her elbows on the table, her crossed arms on her chest. "Now you'll tell me that there was a secret mission taking place right under our noses the entire time, right?"

"It would be pretty funny, but it's not the case," he replied with a grin.

Technically speaking, Asia's rescue wasn't right under the Overwatch's noses: they had an entire ocean between them, facing (and distracting) different entities, and Issei was pretty sure most Overwatch personnel weren't exactly in the know of the true purpose of the exercise (Central Teams weren't exactly open with their assignment. If anything, it was the opposite), so he wasn't actually lying when he said as much.

"Still, it's the first time in a while that I've come here during rush hour. It's way busier than I remember."

"Well, we aren't exactly a massive place, so even a small crown can put a stress on us. Having double the servers in a counter designed for half of them isn't exactly helping us." Issei shrugged at his own comment, lazily observing the agglomeration of people in the central point of the counter.

"I take it as the reason you aren't working right now?" Alice teased with a grin, which Issei answered with one of his own.

"I'll take a few minutes off until the evening shift leaves."

"Does that mean I can't get a beer until they go away?"

"Hey, I never said that." He picked a beer glass and walked to the nearest beer taps, mentally preparing himself for pushing aside some coworkers in his way. "There's always room for beautiful girls in my bar."

"Is not your bar though," she countered with a wider grin.

"Nor are you a beautiful girl yet here you are," he teased back with a playful smile. Banter with Alice was a failproof way of improving his mood, something he specially needed after the memories in his sleep. He often considered her one of his only true friends in the backstabbing place that was the [Organization], at least for the ones involved in its underworld. After a while (and a bit of struggle which included pushing people out of the way in less than kind manners), Issei was handing the full pint to the blonde officer, who raised it on a mocking toast.

"For our successful mission!"

She took a large mouthful of the golden liquid, smiling to herself. Issei simply shrugged at the scene, resting his arms on the counter as he surveyed the scene.

"Is lieutenant Kaltenbrunner not joining you today either?"

"Franz?" Alice wiped some foam from her lips at Issei's gesture. "He said he was tired. He was never one for hot climates, and summer in Egypt isn't really what you call 'cold', right?"

"Agreed. Is he okay though?"

"Fine and dandy!"

"That's good."

The mention of Egypt brought back the memories of his earlier involuntary nap. He couldn't help it: it was the last time he had set foot on a desert, and it was a screw-up of sorts that made him opt-out of active duty (definitely not the biggest screw-up of the [Organization], though, that title was still owned by Operation Roma from two years ago. The witch-hunt for culprits lasted way too long for his taste). He carried his gaze over the clients: while the main type of customer was the high-profile individual who wanted some secrecy and calm, probably while discussing sensitive topics, the bar was also home to those who performed special missions and needed a place to drown their sorrows and worries in legal poison, with a minority of happy individuals who accompanied them. His boss had actually described them not too long ago in simple terms he and hadn't forgotten the words he used.

"Of the wounded, forbidden, destroyed, lost minded, depressed, failures, and the occasional optimist with short life expectancy."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Just how my boss described the second half of our customer base a while ago," he replied, shifting his gaze from the mass of drunk people to his friend. "At least by his own words, that is."

"Kinda harsh if you ask me."

"Can't say he's that wrong, to be fair."

"To what group am I implied to belong?"

"My guess is the one not made of those."

Alice shrugged and resumed her drinking. Issei gave a short smiled and went back to resting on the counter, observing the people. The number of servers was dwindling, and the time for him to join them was near.

But, until that moment, he could allow himself to be on the sidelines a bit more.

"Shouldn't you be working by now?" Asked Alice, an eyebrow raised.

"Look who's talking," he replied, his playful smile returning.

"I said nothing." She went back to her pint. Issei had to suppress a giggle at her antics.

"A little banter never hurt anybody after all."

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A/N: So, yeah. I wrote half this chapter while sleep-deprived on a plane (did I mention I love planes?), but since I keep most of my notes in discord or google docs I can't really consult them that much (specially on international flights). As such, the topic of aggressive guests, which was planned for this chapter, was pushed to the next, instead picking a lighter chapter to explore a bit of this Issei's past and his bar's clientele.

I also wrote this in English from the get-go, instead of writing in Spanish (my mother language) and then translating it. Why? Dunno, mostly the first part, I guess.

That would be all. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, review (or don't) and read ya later,
RedSS.