Hi ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)
Sadly, looks like I'll be dropping 'No More Family Secrets'. The one where Issei got 2 vicious siblings. It was on a trial run, and didn't cross the threshold where I can consider continuing it. I'll leave it up on my profile for around a week and see if things improve, but if it doesn't, then imma scrap it. It happens, and I'll be able to allocate more time and effort into this story instead, since I like this one a lot. Speirs is a blast to write, and I've prepared plotlines up until the very end
He's basically inspired by all those male characters that you often see in those obnoxious sigma edits. The unholy amalgamation of all 'he's literally me' characters we all wish we are. There's a bit of Arthur/Tommy Shelby, the Driver, Alfie Solomons, Jack Reacher, the Punisher, James K. Delaney from Taboo (great show. Tom Hardy did amazing as always), frickin Alejandro from Sicario, Number 5, and so and so.
Basically he was a crack chaotic neutral sigma guy with a lot of issues.
Anyway, enough whinging, here's your meal
enjoy folks
Please Be Normal
〖Chapter 5〗
⦕ Spite, the Greatest Motivator ⦖
"Hang in there buddy. We're nearly there. I can see the vault. Just a bit more, and you'll be the big goddamn hero you always wanted to be."
"...Speirs…"
"Shut up. Just stay with me. You're the cure to all of this bullshit. I can't carry it, but I can carry you."
"For all this time…"
"No, you're not doing crap. Stay with me."
"...Thank you, and I'm sorry…"
"Spare me the emotional crap. You should've waited for me. Why did you raid the place alone? Are you stupid? You're not immune to their claws, moron!"
"I am stupid enough to have fallen in love with you, despite knowing your job… so I suppose… I… am… the idiot…"
"And I warned you and told you it's a bad idea but you never listened, did you?"
…
"...Becks? Say something. …Becks? Becks! Rebecca! …Fuck's sake…"
Back at his home, in the quiet solitude of his bedroom; his only bedroom through his journey as the Custodian as any room he'd designated to be his bedroom would willfully transformed into his bedroom of his choosing. A benefit for working the Auditors of Realities to all Custodians, Speirs stood before a wall with several cork boards and cabinets.
Each covered with a tapestry of memories from his countless journeys through the Universes. The soft, warm glow of his bedside lamp cast gentle light on the mementos that adorned the boards. Each photograph, trinket, scrap of paper, even a wrapping of a Cornetto held a story, a piece of history, a memento of both his successes and failures.
In some Universes, though their future might have relied on a single person, there had been scenarios where the hero's survival wasn't the key, but what they carried instead.
His gaze drifted over each item, each photograph and artifact representing worlds he had saved, civilizations he had protected, lives he had touched and changed. But despite his efforts, the bittersweet truth gnawed at him: the memories of his existence were systematically erased. His eyes lingered on a monochromatic picture of a group of post nuclear survivors. Three guys including him and two girls, posing in a huddle, smiling at the camera, never realizing what fate had planned for them.
He remembered their names, their stories, and the bizarre faces he received whenever he emerged from his death. Same couldn't be said for them.
A small, handcrafted doll from a distant civilization caught his attention next. He had stumbled upon it during a time of war, lying still in the hand of a little kid in bright red dress, the rest of her body buried under the ruins of her house. She wasn't anyone important in that Universe. But she was the one that had gone up to him and told him he dressed funny.
Damn brat…
Lost in his thoughts, the Custodian felt a mixture of bittersweet emotions wash over him. Regret and sorrow mingled with the anger that had carried him through all these years. The memories remained, both the ones that brought joy and the ones that left scars. He carried the weight of his journey, a traveler through time and space and Universes, forever shaped by the tapestry of his experiences.
He didn't leave his old world without souvenirs either. He had his leather biker jacket and helmet with him, the former hung by the door, the latter hanging by the mirror of his bike. He couldn't take his original motorbike with him, sadly enough. Fuel issue. Not all worlds used petrol. And even in the occasional cases that they did, the components were different. At worst, he'd damage his chopper with no hope for spare parts.
But that wasn't all that remained from his old world. Taking up a huge chunk of space on his wooden cabinet was an ordinary fire ax and a classic red crowbar. At the spot next to them was his toolbox.
A bit odd for mementos; but those were the tools he'd used often during his previous life as Leonard Speirs, casual biker and a mere firefighter determined to dedicate his life to rescue as many people as he could, prepared to throw his life to raging hellfire if it meant rescuing another kid or their pet dog.
Now, he wanted to save life not to be a savior, but purely out of sheer spite towards his employers.
He also didn't want any Worlds to suffer the same fate as his, but primarily? Spite was his main driving force.
That's right. He had busted his ass all this time out of sheer spite. It fueled the stubborn flame (anger issues) that burned brighter than a collapsing star. For each world he succeeded in turning their fate around was another laughter on their faces, and they could do nothing but drop him on to the next one and pray that he would fail.
With an amused 'heh', Speirs took a final look at the wall of mementos before turning away, ready to tuck in for the night just as Kunou barged inside his room. His sick sense of humor humored him by placing her as the weirdest sentient memento of all.
She stared at him, her eyes wide and teary, clutching her tail like a comfort pillow. She was already in her sheep onesie; it caught her eyes when they went shopping and the only piece of outfit she'd frontally requested him to buy.
"Let me guess… Another nightmare?"
She sniffled. "...Yeah…"
"You're not lying to me just so you don't have to sleep in your room, aren't you?"
"No!" Kunou vehemently protested.
"This is what happens if you lie to people; they start not believing you," he explained as simply as he could. The Kitsune kit was six after all.
"...Kunou isn't lying… Well she lied before, but Kunou isn't lying today!" a sniffle broke her correction. "Tonight! …Sorry for lying…"
Call him soft but Speirs did retain a bit of heart. "Fine, fine, you lil' rascal…"
Kunou's eyes brightened with relief, and she approached him, her tail swaying. "Uppies!"
"Spoiled rodent," despite his crass word, Speirs extended his arms, and she leapt into his hands. "Who raised you and made you this spoiled, huh?"
"You did."
"Hmm… Smartass."
He could feel the slight trembling of her small frame, and he held her close. Kunou nestled against his shoulder, her small form pressed against his. His fingers brushed lightly over her back, a comforting gesture as he allowed her to find solace in his presence.
Their moment was broken by the hushed tune of his cellphone.
Carrying her, and with great sense of exasperation, Speirs picked up his phone.
Rias G - Devil it stated.
Seeing her name popped up slightly irritated him, but not to the point where he'd ignore the call. He did tell her to strictly call his number if it was important, after all, and if the Gremory girl overstepped that boundary this very first day, then he might start considering finding better and less intrusive allies.
"Speirs."
"Good evening… Speirs, I'm sorry for calling you this late, but… is Hyoudou with you right now?"
"No. I left after we ate. It's Kunou's bedtime. Why?"
"Strange… He didn't come back to us either. When he was with you, did he mention anything to you? Did he tell you where he's going? Or anything at all?"
"Well he did mention he wanted to have a harem. I gave him my piece of mind about it. Standard be a better person and all that crap— nothing discouraging him from reaching his oh-so-noble goal of his. And then I left. He stayed behind. Said he had some things to think about."
"Some things to think about…?"
"I dunno. Self-introspections, I hope. Why?"
"Oh no…" he picked up the distress in the Devil's voice, and he already knew this would be a longer night than he'd expected. "...Normally he'd text me if he's home. He's been attacked by Fallen Angels twice now. I'd ask my Servant to watch him, but I thought you'd take him home this time."
"Have you tried calling him first?"
Rias sounded offended by that. "Of course I did! …He wouldn't… or couldn't pick up his phone. He didn't reply to my messages either. I got worried so I sent Koneko to check his home… and he isn't there. …Goodness, that boy— what if he's gone to that church after all that…?"
"He didn't mention anything about it though."
"No… but any chance you've inspired him to?"
"...Well I did tell him to be a man first before seeking girls."
"...I'm not blaming you for this as my negligence is partly to blame… but this is why I refrain myself from encouraging him too much. He's too good for his own good, and he's impulsive. A terrible combination… I'll need time before I can secure the permit to investigate the church outside of town as it's under the Grigori's territory. My hands are tied at the moment, Speirs, and if that is where he's gone, alone, then I fear I'll be too late."
"I know you owe me nothing, but please. He's vital to this world, yes, but he's also important to me. At least find out if he's in there, and we'll handle the rest. There should be around 20 of them, maybe more in that place. You don't need to do anything else— I just need the confirmation. Do this for me, I'll think of a fitting reward for you."
"Alright, alright. I get it, Lady, no need to beg. I'll drop by the stinkin' church…" About time he paid those Fallen Angels a visit either way, though he was hoping he could do it tomorrow. "I'm dropping Kunou off first, though."
Rias breathed a sigh. "Thank you so much. All my Servants are looking out for him, but I'll be at the school gate. You can just drop her off there. Sorry for interrupting your time, and thank you again."
The call ended there, and with a hefty sigh, Speirs looked through his phone's apps while sparing a glance at the dozing Kitsune on his arms.
She let out a yawn, more of whine than a yawn, really, and viciously adorable.
"...Do you have to go somewhere, Uncle?"
"Yep. Sorry, kiddo, but I gotta change and work for a bit. I'll drop you by the nice sisters, alright? And be nice."
"...Okay…" Though displeased, Kunou wasn't entirely against it. She liked those people. They were nice to her. She liked nice people. "...But Kunou wants ice cream."
"Fine, fine… I'll get you your ice cream. Tomorrow."
"Yay~!"
With this tiny troublemaker dealt (read: bribed) with, Speirs scrolled through his contacts and dialed N.
"This is Speirs. I need your help."
Break
In the outskirts of Kuoh town, the half-moon cast a gentle glow over the abandoned church that had become a haven for rogue Fallen Angels. The noise of his bike likely alerted the miscreants inside, but Speirs was more annoyed than bothered. He didn't fancy having to postpone his rest.
No wannabe heroes dying today. This, he swore.
Armored only in his standard biker attire and helmet, both of which were relics of a decayed world, Speirs waited some meters away from the dark entrance of the dilapidated church, leaning against his bike, the black and V-twin Suzuki SV650 roadster as he stared at his phone. He kept his helmet on as some measure of protection; he might be immune to magic but a punch to his face could still leave a bruise, and he'd rather avoid that.
Black, malevolently whirling portal tore the space and time continuum not far away from him, and stepping out of it was the gothic lolita girl from yesterday. She still had her striking yellow hair and the same outfit, but her sapphire blue eyes… how to put it… lacked light? Speirs could take a guess of what Nyarlathotep had done to her new follower, especially since it might have been weeks for her, but he couldn't care that much.
"Rookie," he instead greeted her as he lifted the visor of his helmet. "You look like shit."
"Please," Mittelt grumbled. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. "...Just get it over with. What do you want— ahem… need, o esteemed client of the Baleful Lady Nyarlathotep…?"
He quirked up an eyebrow. What did she do to this runt? "Disgusting. Stop that."
"Lady N wants me to be professional when dealing with her clients… PR stuff. She doesn't want to lose to Hastur. Or according to her, 'the Noisy Yellow'"
"Yeah, well, I'm their regular either way, and I find your professionality highly disturbing. So quit it. I'd rather you act like you would normally."
"Alright, that's your request, not mine…" Mittelt sighed as she glanced around, finding the place to be all too familiar. Then she remembered. "Ah. The hideout. …It's been a month huh…"
"A day."
Her eyes bulged out. "A DAY?! But I- but I swear I—"
"Time dilation and that sciency stuff," Speirs told her dismissively. "Look, Arla isn't available but she sent you; so I'm guessing this won't be your first gig playing cleaner then?"
"...Luckily. Please don't ask. …So many bodies… " Mittelt said as she shivered, hugging herself. "I swear you Custodians are all sociopaths."
"Guilty as charged." Speirs shrugged as he replied. His line of work would degrade his sanity and deprive his moral values after all. Right now, they might as well be shallower than a puddle of a drive by.
Mittelt decided to ignore that as a darkest form of humor as she glanced at the church, then back at him. "Are you going to kill all the people there…?"
"Maybe. But if you want to convince some of them to fuck off, then be my guest. And while you're at it, find the boy. Issei, I mean. Ask around if he's not there. If he isn't, then maybe you won't have to stay for long."
"...I'd rather stay here for eternity but alright, I'll sniff something out. Hopefully…"
The girl plodded her way to the church, devoid of hopes and dreams. Yikes.
Whatever happened to Debbie Downer over here? Speirs idly wondered about the nightmarish scenario and sanity-twisting experiences Nyarlathotep had handed out to the brat, and he found himself sympathizing with her. Still, she asked for it, so… And her being this docile was quite convenient too.
It'd be interesting to finally find out how the miscreants of this world fight, as well as their resilience. He didn't consider taking out Fedora Guy as an achievement. The bar was too low to be set as a standard. But if he had to guess, Devils, Fallen Angels, Angels and whatnots— all would primarily rely on their magical bullcrap like most fantastical creatures he'd fought a million times before. Take that away, and they'd be like fish out of water.
Speirs didn't have to wait for long before Mittelt reappeared under the shadows of the doorless entrance, and phased herself right before him — skirting through space and time, appearing like a black blur to the untrained or trained eyes. He wasn't surprised. She was practically Arla's disciple now. Of course that psycho would've taught and armed the gothy brat with a few of her tricks.
"Well?" he prompted. The girl in brat's visage looked marginally brighter compared to ten minutes ago, but he could detect reservation in her eyes and uncertainty, as if she was a kid that knew she'd got caught stealing from the cookie jar or ate too many sweets.
"Uhh… I… Well," she cleared her throat. "He's… there alright. Alive. Just…not well."
A hostage situation…? Speirs had seen where this was going. "How is he?"
Mittelt started to sweat and twiddle with her small fingers. "He's… erm… let's say that he's been better…?"
"Details, blondie. Is he limbless? Nails torn off?"
"What? Ew— Gods no! I forgot how sick you guys are… erm… uh.. No offense, S-Sir."
"Uh huh. His condition, please."
"Uhh…" for some unknown reason, Mittelt grew even more nervous as if she was the one responsible for all of this. "...W-well, you see… he's… being used as target practice at the moment… but… when he gets too hurt, there's this girl named Asia Argento heals him straight away, and the cycle repeats. Y-you might've heard of her."
"How did they get the jump on him?"
"...They didn't, that's the thing. He came here all by himself, looking for trouble…"
And trouble he got. Speirs had to let loose a huge sigh after hearing that. That dumbass… served him right for throwing away all sense and consideration out the window. Especially after what they had discussed in that clubroom not even a day ago.
"I'm sorry to say this, but is he an idiot?" she therefore said.
"He is." Someone's about to receive an earful at the end of this. But at least Speirs now knew he needed to keep a closer watch to the boy until he manned up properly. "Alright then. Thanks."
"Why are you bothering yourself with him anyway?"
"Job requirement."
"Oh." Mittelt understood enough. Issei couldn't die. Else this world might die. "...Him…? Out of all people…? …Seriously…?"
"You shouldn't be surprised. This happens more often than frequent."
Speirs hopped off his ride, and drew out a plain curved-claw hammer that was kept between his jeans and back.
The fact that he only armed himself with a mundane weapon didn't go unnoticed by Mittelt, but she'd seen a Custodian using a pencil to skewer someone's ear… A fucking pencil. If there was anything she'd learned regarding the Custodians from her brief stint as the Crawling Chaos' slave follower, was that they were highly resourceful people, and extremely, disgustingly, disturbingly, expert at being brutally violent.
She had witnessed a Custodian purposefully letting himself be swallowed whole by a Dragon only to rip it apart from inside out.
They'd tell you they held no supernatural powers, but that was a big fat lie. Their immunity to any worlds' magic or high-tech arsenals was one, and their ability to dish out controlled violence to any worlds' residents no matter how resilient was the second. If they were left to their own devices, they could take control of an entire Universe.
But no. The Primordials — Auditors of Realities — were too smart for that. Despite their apathy, they meticulously handpicked selfless people who would do anything for what they loved. And even then, if a Custodian should ever defy the Auditors, what could they do? At most, their defiance would only bring another form of entertainment for these uncaring gods.
…Never had she felt truly helpless in her life that she'd embrace being a nihilist in an instant.
But Mittelt supposed at least now she never had to worry about dying. All things considered, she was in a pretty decent spot to be in. Her only problem was Nyarlathotep, and her… lessons.
Watching him walk past her brought her back to her senses as she called out to him. "H-hey!"
"Wot."
"...Uh… I know this is a bit much to ask but… Some of my friends are there. J-just two! Only two… and it's not like they're actively participating in torturing your guy…"
Speirs reclined against one foot. "...Aaaand… You barging into my house like a bunch of Jehovah Witnesses is her order, right?"
"Jeho-what?"
"Doesn't matter. You want them out? Then convince me."
"Because… I asked nicely?"
"Right." Speirs sauntered inside. If she wasn't taking this seriously then their life didn't mean that much.
"W-w-wait wait!" Mittelt hurried. "They're not evil! They're just… y'know… pragmatic, I guess. So like… cut them some slack…? I tried to talk them out of this but they're… they're like this… stubborn, loyal to a fault sort of people unlike me…"
She twiddled with her fingers—her nervous habits, it seemed—and looked up at him with pleading eyes.
"So pretty please? Please. I'm begging you here. Th-they're just like me. They're stuck between a rock and a… bigger rock? A-anyway they're in this because they can't say no, or they'll be executed otherwise! They already knew too much!"
Knew too much? Oooh, he liked the sound of that.
"What about the rest?"
"I don't give a crap. They made fun of me because I mooched up with Raynare — she's our boss. My friend. Sorta. The one that I'm asking you not to kill. The rest can go screw themselves for all I care. I'm not trying to talk you out of killing my former co-workers here, Mr. Speirs, and Mistress N has set me a quota anyway. I actually need you to off some guys."
Wow. No camaraderies here. She might just survive Nyarlathotep. …But Mistress? Seriously? Did that eldritch prick come up with that herself or it was just this brat's mooching getting to her?
"Alright, fine." Speirs laughed, entertained. He did intend to spare some for questioning and to tell the tale. "But if they throw hands at me, I'll bash their face in. So you better point out whose skulls I can put a dent in."
Ew. More work. "...Okay, but I'm only here to clean after your mess, not help you create the mess… That's… that's fine, right? I don't like them, it's not like I want to hurt them or anything… They're still my people and it feels kinda wrong…"
"Really. You don't look too conflicted about it. Are you trying to bullshit your way out of this?."
Mittelt swallowed. Curse these Custodians. "...Alright, I just don't want to get my clothes dirty. Can't you let me have this one at least? I have the shittiest of luck lately…"
"Should've just said it outright, kid. But fine by me. I'm feeling it right now."
The former Fallen Angel shuddered. She had no idea what 'it' meant, but she had an inkling it was the Custodians' innate craving for violence.
Break
It was a slow day, but it picked up the pace near midnight. That moronic skirt-chaser thought he could just waltz in their hideout like he was some big time hero — how deluded could he be? He came here with the intention of rescuing his 'friend' that he'd only known for what, a week at most? Only to get himself captured and beaten and now treated like pincushion, with the added bonus of scarring this precious crybaby friend of his.
"You did this to yourself, you know," she said at the boy, now fully limped, held only by the pair of chains binding his wrists and ankles against the moldy wall. It was a lucky find that this forsaken holy place was built atop a dungeon.
"...I didn't think there'd be a hundred of you…"
Eighteen, actually. Used to be twenty, but Dohnaseek was apparently MIA whereas that noisy midget Mittelt had found a new assignment directly from her superior. A bit rare that someone that low would receive an assignment directly from one of the Cadres, but not one unheard of. Raynare herself was the living proof.
Good for her.
As for this idiot…
Back then she felt spite for the boy for being granted a Sacred Gear despite being a nobody, but now, Raynare just felt pity. Pity and amazement that a sentient being could be this brainless and shortsighted. Might be her innate Fallen Angel acting up though. They were the Watchers of Humanity; and maybe the feeling she felt right now was just severe disappointment that washed away her anger towards dear ol' God's favorite creation.
Raynare's slender fingers brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze shifting for a moment before returning to Issei. "I'm not saying this to make fun of you, much as I wanted to keep it that way," she admitted, her voice softer now, almost as if she were confiding in him. "It's just... genuinely puzzling."
Issei's eyes met hers again, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. The anger he had initially felt began to dissipate, replaced by a self- introspection about how he could fuck this up so badly.
"I can't believe how stupid you are," Raynare remarked, her voice carrying a cold amusement. "Well, congratulations. You've made a big deal out of yourself. A big joke, that is. All to save one little girl. It's almost touching, really."
"She's not just a little girl! She's my friend!" Issei barked back viciously despite his bleeding temple, arms, legs— nearly all parts of his body, really. Her underlings hadn't just used him as a throwing target, some had used him to test their lightswords' effectiveness against a Devil's bare skin as well, much to the horror of the Holy Maiden weeping several paces away from him.
Asia was left relatively unharmed. Mentally scarred, but physically untouched. The ritual required the sacrifice to be in a healthy condition after all. And unlike him that was bound quite close to the wall, Asia only had her mouth muffled with a rage, and her ankles chained and had longer chains that she could reach him. But she wouldn't dare to reach him. Raynare's lackeys had warned her joyously that if she healed Issei without their agreement, they would start ripping off his limbs one by one. That got her to play nice.
Raynare had made it clear that her underlings wouldn't harm him that far, however. Dumb as he might be, he did carry a large bargaining value as Rias Gremory's Pawn.
"How touching. But are you even aware of how deep you are in right now? I don't think you do, do you," she began, smiling cruelly as she cupped his bloody chin to make him look at her in her eyes. She relished the stalwart defiance in his eyes, truly the eyes of a boy that knew nothing, before she continued, "You've not only attacked our territory —you a Devil, attacking our territory, the Fallen Angels'— which is already bad enough for your stuck-up Master, but you also got yourself captured… You're now my hostage, Issei-kun~!"
To further drive her mockery, to further rip him apart from the inside, she used Yuuma Amano's voice for that last bit.
Several Fallen Angels that were around laughed mockingly as Issei's chest burned with a mix of rage and desperation. He had hoped to rescue Asia, to prove himself as a worthy friend, but now he was little more than a captive audience for the Fallen Angels' twisted amusement.
"Still not able to see the bigger picture? Jeez… really… What was that Devil thinking…? I thought she was smart but then she brought you back out of all people… And for what? A Boosted Gear you don't even know how to use? What a waste…"
"Yeah…? Then let me off these things and we'll see for ourselves!"
"Right as if I'm ever doing that, idiot. Do you really take me as a fellow moron?"
Raynare's gaze never wavered, her violet eyes locked onto Issei's, and he hated how similar her eyes were with Akeno's, only much more malicious.
"You're a fool, Issei." she said, her words cutting and unapologetic. "Anyone who's willing to risk their life for someone else's sake is a complete and utter fool. But even a fool has his own kind of courage, I suppose… though I don't know if it's bravery or stupidity. Seems to me it's the latter. Rias is going to be sooo disappointed in you. She might even consider throwing you out."
Issei realized he couldn't say anything to that. "..."
"That man from before is heading here, Raynare. He's entered the church," That was Kalawarner's voice. Her second in command. The tall and busty Fallen Angel called her out from where she was standing before she approached the new pincushion. "Let's leave."
Ah, right. He's here. The man that Mittelt warned earlier. The asshole that caused her to lose two of her men. One of which albeit lacking brains, was quite helpful nonetheless with his ability to cook actual edible food. Once she dealt with him, she'd rip out the information of where he kept Dohnaseek. If she had to guess, he'd tossed that idiot over to the Devils'.
"Right… him…" Raynare snarled, giving her attention back at Issei. "What did you Devils do to Dohnaseek?"
"Dohna-what…?"
"He's the one that tried to kill you a few days after you turned into a useless Devil."
"Oh, the fedora guy." Issei completely ignored the 'useless' bit. Having received a ton of insults, he was now practically immune to it.
Raynare suppressed her urge to laugh. It was so fitting. "Yes. That."
And now she resisted the urge to choke him to death because of his shit-eating grin. "Heh… you didn't know? S-San got your guy. Serves you bastards right messing with our ordinary, peaceful human life—"
A right hook to his cheek halted his sentence.
"...Ow."
"S-San…? Are you talking about that man? Leonard Speirs?"
"Heh…" Issei spat a glob of red at the dusty marble flooring. "Damn right."
"Tch. What is he, your new friend? Contractor?"
"Even better; he's independent. He's not with us, see. You just picked the wrong guy to mess with, Yuuma-chan~"
"Tsk." Raynare seethed, her voice a venomous hiss as she struck him again.
Issei winced, the sting of her slap sharp against his skin, but he held her gaze, his own defiance unwavering even in the face of her growing anger. In fact, his resolve had only grown stronger.
"Sucks to suck, doesn't it?"
Raynare knew better than to waste her time with him. So she stood up, looked at her nearby subordinates, and said, "Shut him up."
One of her minions raised a hand. "...Does that mean we can kill him?"
"No you idiot, just shut him up. Knock him out or something. Three of you stay here, the rest, come with me. About time we take care of that man…"
She left along with Kalawarner while the Fallen Angels that stayed began to ready themselves, positioning themselves with weapons and spells. Issei braced himself, swallowing a spit full of blood. He deserved this, he thought ruefully. He'd realized his mistake and, if he ever got out of this, knew he'd have to apologize to Rias no matter the reason.
"Don't worry, Asia-chan, we'll get out of this," he said as the lights of the lightspears lit up the large sanctum, smiling, putting up a brave front so that the girl would stop her tears. It did the opposite. "But it looks like I'm gonna need your help again before that."
The thrown light spear pierced his body, and Asia's muffled scream amounted to nothing.
At the chapel of the church, two particularly frightened Fallen Angels kept themselves afloat, avoiding danger in the form of a man in a biker outfit and a helmet. He couldn't touch them from down there, but they couldn't touch him either. Not without trying to get near him and have a bone broken.
"W-we've gotta stop him," assessed the female Fallen Angel. The Biker walked beneath them, aware but completely disregarding their presence as he simply walked through the bodies he dropped, stepping past the broken pews, towards the stairwell leading down.
The one flying next to her looked as if he wanted to smack her head. "You don't need to tell me that, idiot— What do we do?! Our shit doesn't work on him! Is he even human?!"
"He's going down, Abasar— W-what do we do?! Our guys are down there!"
"Sweet Remiel. Remy, my friend. If you care about them so much, then be my guest."
"He… He stomped Reggie's face in! I don't wanna die! But I don't wanna get fired either!"
"You want to choose between getting fired or getting a dent in your head?!"
Meanwhile, Speirs had gone deeper down the stairwell, the narrowness of it effectively forced them to swarm at him one by one. A battlecry could be heard, followed with a loud unmistakable, sickening impact — a collision of brittle bone and unforgiving force of a remorseless sociopath armed with a mundane hammer.
The two Fallen Angels gulped. They took a glance down, stared at the corpses of their allies, and collectively made up their mind.
"I didn't get paid enough for this! Screw this, I'm not dying here today."
"B-but Bassy— Abasar!" The scream grew louder, and Remiel heard a loud thunk and one of her co-worker screaming a name, before suddenly reduced into gurgles. Colors were drained from her face as she recoiled in fear, and Remiel immediately flew outside over to catch up to her friend. "W-wait! Wait for me!"
As they fled the scene, Mittelt who was cloaked in the shadows, breathed a sigh of relief. Not, mind you, because those two chose wisely and extended their lifespan, but because now she could do her job. While the possibly least unhinged of Custodians went on to do his business, leaving a gruesome crime scene where blood-soaked memories clung to every pews, broken statues, ceramic floors and all sorts of surface like a malevolent fog, Mittelt went on to do hers..
With a mere flick of her hand, she unleashed a surge of dark energy that pulsed through the air, tendrils of eldritch power reaching out like ethereal fingers. The room responded, as if recognizing the touch of a force beyond comprehension. Bloodstains, once soaked into the fibers of the carpet, began to tremble.
Nyarlathotep's blessings worked its magic, unraveling the carnage before her. Blood lifted from surfaces, suspended in the air as if held by invisible strings while the tendrils engulfed the corpses, consuming them to their smallest atoms, leaving nothing in its wake.
It was rather satisfying, if she might add. She didn't like cleaning as that was all she was told to do when she was a lowly ranking Fallen Angel, but now that it didn't take as much effort, it was kinda fun seeing the change of cleanliness.
But likely it was just her mentally tuning out the horrors so she wouldn't lose grip on whatever sanity she had remaining.
The black tendrils withdrew, the eldritch energy retreating like a tide, returning into her shadow, leaving only a sense of hushed awe. She had to get used to this, Mittelt had told herself. One way or another. Because if she didn't, well, she might lose her job and therefore forfeited her life.
She agreed not to dwell on it too much, and hurried towards the underground sanctum as she recalled Speirs didn't know what Raynare or Kalawarner looked like, and likely wouldn't bother asking.
A helmeted headbutt broke his next victim's the Fallen Angel's nose as she tumbled down the stairs in a nearly comical fashion, complete with curses and 'oofs' and 'argh's, but nobody was laughing.
Speirs never took any fights lightly. He couldn't die forever, but he could still get hurt. It was fortunate that this Universe's lack of wars and incentives to prepare for war had consequently drastically reduced the combat knowledge of its inhabitants, these winged-weirdos especially.
For a dilapidated church, he'd never expect to find a cavern down here. Probably used to be a hideout. He did recall that in this World's Japan history, there was a time where Christians and Catholics were being forcibly driven out. Religious intolerance tended to be that icky regardless of the Universe, it seemed like.
He descended down, and stood before another group blocking a massive double door. Three girls, two guys.
"Who the fuck are you?!" one of them demanded. A woman. Chesty. Angry. They were all dressed in formal business suits, reminding him more of a group of very angry real estate agents rather than a dangerous mob.
"Where's Hyoudou Issei," he demanded back, his voice a bit muffled from his full-faced gray helmet.
"H-hah… so you're with the Devils, huh? Do you have any idea what you're doing right now?"
"But I'm not though."
"Bullshit!"
"Yeah nah I don't care what you believe in, Lady." The Biker shrugged. "I wanna see your manager."
"Manager… You mean Raynare…?"
"Yes. Her."
"After murdering half of her men… Our friends!? You have the guts to think we'll just let you through?!"
Sure enough, he was the bad guy here in their eyes. A random nobody in a helmet strutting to their home and wrecking their shit? Yeah, he'd be royally pissed off too. But Custodians cared little about the tiny details and more about the bigger picture. And those that didn't have a role in the bigger picture should wisely stay off of his lane.
"What if I ask nicely?"
That blew up her veins as she shouted, "Over my dead body!"
Take out their magical bullshit and all of a sudden they had no idea what to do with their fists, evidently having only learned to fight using their magical spears and helplessly clumsy at using their fists. Not that they didn't have any technical skills; they could throw a punch, but he was just marginally better at hand-to-hand and had taken down assholes twice his size. He imagined none of these chumps had ever been mugged either, because if they had, then this—
Speirs let a buzzing lightspear crash against his shoulder, failing to do any damage or leaving a dent against his biker jacket, much to her shock.
—should not be—
He gripped the light-infused weapon with his left hand, jerked it, dragging the bewildered wielder along with it,
—this easy.
and brought down the hammer on her chin, dislocating her jaw with an unsettling crack as she slumped to the floor, her body twitching before foam started to come out from her mouth.
"Is that enough for me to step in, or you wanna see if there's an afterlife." He gestured the viscera-ridden hammer towards them, as if stating 'your choice'.
He waited a moment, watching the rest of the group, letting it sink in. While it was true he was out for blood; especially since the Fallen Angels did try to crash his place, Speirs wasn't so callous that he'd proactively seek out every single one of them.
Mittelt still thought he was a psychopath nonetheless. Yes, she was here, lurking in the pools of shadows, waiting, watching, wishing she'd brought snacks earlier.
But instead of running away, they all conjured their corrupted holy weapons and charged at him all at the same time. One slung a lightspear at his helmet as a distraction, but Speirs firmed it as it skidded off, bouncing away like it was made of rubber instead of concentrated light energy.
The distraction didn't work. Speirs measured the approaching Fallens as they circled him, one standing by the stairway to block his escape. Smart, he thought. They didn't go after him one by one like morons. Credit where it's due.
But that didn't help them. The burlier guy grabbed him from behind as they began their assault, but Speirs threw his head back as his grappler stumbled backwards, clutching his broken nose, yelling curses before screaming as Speirs brought his foot down over his ankle, snapping it, and then stomped on his family jewels.
His scream The other female lunged, her lightspear blazing as she put all her body into it, even using her wings to propel her forward. Speirs dodged to his side, letting her cut through air, before yanking her dark feathered wing and forced her into the ground. He'd have finished the job if the male Fallen Angel didn't restrain his hammer wielding arm, and the other female Fallen hadn't just tackled him to the ground, causing him to lose grip of his hammer.
On top of him, her expression was one of pure rage and desperation as she summoned her lightsword and attempted to drive it through the visor of his helmet and straight to his right eye, but it couldn't pierce. Her confusion was quickly swept away along with her strength as Speirs grabbed her head like a ball, gripping her firmly, and drove his thumbs deep into her eye sockets.
Her harrowing scream and desperate clawing at his hands was short-lived as she'd lost her consciousness.
And her sight as well.
"L-Lucrezia!" cried the male Fallen as he watched his compatriot's body crumpling.
Speirs was about to push her off, but was given no respite as the second male charged, fury and vengeance in his eyes. His lightspear darted like lightning, but Speirs simply used the female on top of him as a meatshield. The lightspear went through her back and through her chest, and her death rattle was not unmissed.
As horror struck the male Fallen, realizing what he'd done, the weight of reality finally crashing down on him like a boulder, Speirs threw the body off him and used the Fallen Angels' disbelief to get up, pick up his hammer, and crack his neck twice, saying nothing.
"Y-you… You monster!"
Speirs shrugged. "Yep. You gonna do something about this monster?"
He shifted his hand, and the two remaining Fallen Angels twitched, recoiling in helpless terror.
"You're gonna die if you stay," he told them. Not as a warning but more as a well-intentioned head's up. Let's call it pity. "Fuck off. I won't kill ya if you don't try anything funny."
The two Fallen Angels exchanged a look, before one of them, the one with the broken ankle, said his piece, "Yeah I'm… I think I'm done here, Rob."
"What? He killed our friends!"
"Well I ain't dying for the dead! I got a wife and kids at home!"
"He broke your leg!"
"It can get better! If you're dead, you're dead!" the limper shouted, moving away, walking around Speirs like he would avoid a pit. "...You're not gonna stab me in the back, right?"
Speirs didn't have time for this. "Just piss off," he said as the man scrambled up the stairs, hopping each step, cursing and wincing. Traumatized, but being able to see another day and his wife seemed to provide him with enough motivation to never look back.
With just remaining, he stared down the Fallen Angel, as if waiting for his flight or flee response to kick in. He heard a groan coming from the female Fallen he'd taken down the first time, noticed the guy's hopeful look, and knelt down as he brought his hammer up, preparing for a swing.
"D-don't!" pleaded the last surviving Fallen. For now at least. "W-we'll go… Let me take her with me, o-okay? We-we'll go… I swear."
Speirs would then wait for him to evacuate. The Fallen Angel rushed to her side and carried her — Speirs even went as far as helping him get her up and put her arm over his shoulders despite the Fallen's evident dread. He wasn't doing it out of sympathy, but so these two could scram already.
Now alone with a single corpse, Mittelt stepped out from the shadows, summoning her 'pets' to perform her clean up duty.
She recoiled in disgust at the remains of her former coworker, and hurried the disintegrating process as she glanced up at him. "And that wasn't even the most barbaric stuff I've seen you Custodians do."
"We can be pretty nasty, yeah."
With a fitting sense of humor to boot. Worse was that these Custodians couldn't get tired. They didn't need to eat, they didn't need to sleep, they wouldn't tire out, and they could fight for as long as they should. Their organs and needs were forever stuck in a stasis. The food or drinks or smoke they inhaled would simply phase away into nothing after passing their throat — Mittelt didn't know how it worked, but then again, they were agents of beings higher than anything she could imagine. Some bullshit was to be expected.
"...Psychos…" she muttered under her breath. Saving Universes or not, they were too primal to be considered as humans.
Speirs heard her alright; he just didn't care. He came here to rip out information about this world and to send a message.
"They're waiting for you behind this door," informed Mittelt.
"How many are there?"
"Twelve. Looks like they're gonna jump on you the moment you open that door. Raynare and Kalawarner included… And I just came up with this but I can restrict them. I just need your permission."
"Permission granted."
Mittelt sighed. At least this guy was level-headed to a certain degree. "You got any plans?"
"Ehh… A few came to mind..."
"...Dunno why I even bother asking; of course you do," she grumbled as she melded back into the pool of shadow. "They always do…"
Speirs wondered if she had met one of the more violent Custodians. Francis Castle came to mind. Frankie, to him. The Punisher, to most.
And with that, Speirs unzipped his biker jacket, and drew out a rather small device; a metal pipe with threaded ends, that served as the casing for the explosive components and a surprise for these bozos behind the door.
He kicked both doors open, and just as Mittelt said; the Fallen Angels charged right at him, their lightspears poised for strike. His actions bore an air of calculated malevolence, and without a moment's hesitation, he activated the detonator with a flicker of sadistic satisfaction bred from executing a successful plan.
The blast and explosion that followed was a cataclysmic inferno, engulfing both Speirs and the charging Fallen Angels in a maelstrom of fire and force. The shockwave tore through the sanctum, a deafening roar that obliterated all in its path. The double doors splintered and shattered, flesh and viscera that were made up of Leonard Speirs as well as these brave flock of Fallen Angels (his victims) decorated the walls and floors with red.
As the smoke and debris settled, the once-ferocious Fallen Angels lay vanquished and scattered. Raynare and Kalawarner, their forms untouched by the devastation, stood at the threshold of the destruction. Their wide-eyed stares were glued on the scene before them, the shock apparent in their face. The brutality of the explosion was a nightmarish tableau that sent shivers down their spines and shook even Kalawarner's psyche.
Kalawarner swallowed, not realizing that her yellow lightspear had slipped from her grip.
"Did… did he just…?"
Speirs indeed blew himself up, dragging the others with him in a blaze of glory.
Raynare's once-confident demeanor had crumbled in the face of the insanity before her as she struggled to process the event that had taken place, and why her underlings had been reduced to scattered pieces. Not all of them, though. One of the bodies was right before her, headless.
"What just happened?"
As the smoke began to lift, revealing the extent of the carnage, Raynare's horror deepened. Her gaze was drawn to the fallen forms, their broken bodies and misplaced bones a haunting testament to the brutality of the explosion. The marble floor was stained with a mixture of blood and ash, a morbid palette that painted a gruesome scene. They did not notice that their assailant's body had disappeared. Hard to tell anyway. He was only bits and bobs of himself.
"That… that bastard killed himself…? Speirs, was it…?"
Kalawarner's voice trembled as she spoke Speirs's name, a mixture of dread and disbelief coloring her tone. The calculated malevolence behind his actions had left an indelible mark, a chilling reminder that they were dealing with a force that transcended their expectations.
"That's my name. And you better remember it well, ladies."
He emerged from the smoke, his helmet gleaming amidst the devastation, his black biker jacket evidently unharmed. They gawked in confusion as he walked over the remains, leaving footprints of ashes as he glanced around, viewing his work. Speirs didn't agree with the jihadist's extremist values but he did agree that this full on balls to the walls method was disturbingly effective.
"Y-You?! But you were—"
"Dead, yes. But I don't stay that way very long."
"How did—" Kalawarner struggled to form a question because of how distraught she was, and settled on demanding his identity. "Who are you?!"
"You just said my name not a minute ago," he pointed out. "So which one of you pricks sent Fedora Guy over to my house? Is it you, Ms. Borderline Nudist or you. And what's the deal with this place?"
Raynare and Kalawarner's horror morphed into hot fury. Completely disregarding his questions, the Fallen Angels exchanged a resolute glance, their expressions hardening with determination. With a shared resolve, they surged forward, wings unfurled and weapons at the ready.
If they could see through his helmet, his expression was one of annoyance rather than satisfaction. The malevolent glint in his eyes was a reflection of his determination rather than triumph. He didn't grin or smirk, his features remaining taut and focused, albeit the biker helmet hid any hint of his emotions.
Gripping his trusty hammer, Speirs allowed them to close in, and waited for the opportune moment to strike back.
Break
In the cold, grim confines of the dungeon underneath the sanctum, Hyoudou Issei hung suspended, his body a canvas of bruises and wounds. A group of Fallen Angels surrounded him, their cruel laughter and malevolent intent casting a pall over the air when suddenly, dusts fell off the ceiling as the dungeon shook, but Issei couldn't feel it. Actually, he couldn't feel anything. One thing he knew was that these Fallen Angels punks couldn't shut him up.
"What was that?" asked one of the surrounding Crows.
"...Might be Miss Raynare. Let's go check it out. You, stay here."
"Right!"
"Leaving so soon…?" With a bloodied grin, Issei grunted as he lifted his head to stare and mock his abusers. "I… could do this… all day…"
Chained beside him, Asia's eyes had gone dry from the tears she shed, no longer able to cry even as she sobbed. "Issei-san please stop…"
The one that barked the order barked another one, "And for fuck's sake, shut him up."
"My pleasure."
A punch to his gut ripped the air out of his lungs as Issei lurched forward, but the Crow didn't stop there. His body trembled with each blow, the pain a relentless assault that seemed to consume his very being. His defiant spirit remained unbroken, but his body might break soon.
"Stop! Stop! You're killing him, stop! Please!"
"Is that so? I'm killing him? Well I'm sorry brat, but I'm just—" he landed his right foot on Issei's chest, once again knocking the wind out of the boy. "—doing my orders!"
"It's fine Asia-chan—GHA—! …This… guy… ain't shit… GHK— alright that one hurts…"
"Stop it! Stop! STOP!" and at last, she couldn't take it anymore. She gave up asking for God's help, and cried as hard as she could, "NOOOO!"
In the midst of the dungeon's despair, a surge of energy seemed to ripple through the air as Asia's desperation and helplessness awakened something in her. Her tear-stained face was aglow as her deep desire channeled the power of her Sacred Gear. A gentle radiance enveloped her, pristine green in color, and the chains that bound Issei and herself seemed to tremble in response.
"...H-hey stop that!" The Fallen Angel, Greg, short for Greggory, knew that this situation did not bode well for him, and rushed over to give the Maiden a walloping.
But Asia's healing energy surged, forming a green barrier that kept him from entering.
"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—" in despair, Greg summoned his electric lightspear and slammed it against the spherical barrier. "HEY YOU BETTER OPEN THIS FUCKING THING! I-I'm… I'm warning you!"
As Issei's battered body began to mend, the wounds closing with a miraculous speed, the pain that had consumed him moments ago was replaced by a sense of rejuvenation, a reprieve from the agony. His strength returned, his body renewed in a way that defied explanation.
Greg watched in shock as Issei's wounds vanished before their eyes. The sudden turn of events seemed to catch him off guard, his sadistic glee giving way to a mixture of surprise and alarm, and shifted into one of pure panic as he saw crimson lights gathering at the boy's left arm.
"COME ON! ACTIVATE, TWICE CRITICAL!"
Issei, fueled by Asia's healing and driven by an indomitable will and a huge desire to return the favor to his assaulter, felt a surge of power within him. His eyes blazed with fervor, his spirit unbroken despite the torment he had endured. Drawing upon his strength, he activated his Twice Critical as the crimson gauntlet enveloped his left arm.
But the air around his gauntlet seemed to crackle with energy as his Twice Critical rapidly evolved into something greater. The dormant power within it awakened, fully fueled by his desire to be strong for those that couldn't; and the Boosted Gear manifested in a blaze of ethereal fire, responding to his host's burning desire.
"{BOOSTED GEAR: FIRST LIBERATION}"
The chains that had held him captive were now a mere hindrance, his newfound strength rendering them insignificant.
"{BOOST!}"
His gauntlet announced with a deep, rumbling voice that was oddly familiar to him. The power that surged through him was an unstoppable force, a torrent of strength that defied the cruelty that had been inflicted upon him. The chains shattered like fragile glass, their remnants falling to the ground in a cascade of broken links, trickling against the walls.
"{BOOST!}"
"W-wait, wait wait… Wait, wait, wait, wait wait— no no no no no! Wait wait wait!"
"PAYBACK IS A BITCH, ISN'T IT?!"
With a roar that resonated through the dungeon, Issei blasted the Fallen Angel with a frontal punch square on his face, sending him flying towards the other side as he crashed against the cave wall, and crumpled unconscious to the floor.
"Alright, Asia-chan, let's get the hell outta here. We've gotta help S-san too!"
"Issei-san!"
"Oof—!"
Asia had run straight to him, rushing forward with unbridled emotion. Asia, her tear-streaked face a portrait of raw relief, tackled him in a tight embrace, her arms encircling him as if trying to convey all her pent-up emotions in that one gesture.
His surprised expression melted into one of warmth as he struggled not to allow impure thoughts enter his brain. There was a time for everything and this ain't it.
"Ahaha… I made you worry, didn't I? Sorry."
"Issei-san…! I'm sorry…!" Her tears, a testament to the emotional turmoil they had endured, mingled with his own sense of triumph. He returned the hug, his arms wrapping around her, conveying his gratitude and relief.
"Now, now— now's not the time, Asia-chan. We've gotta help S-san, alright? He definitely could use your healing!"
Sniveling, Asia pushed herself away and wiped her tears. Her nun outfit was in tatters, but that didn't matter right now.
"O-okay!"
Little did they know that Speirs was already halfway through with Raynare and the rest of her lackeys, having reintroduced to them how it felt to feel dread, and causing all of them to suffer PTSD by just looking at a hammer.
To be continued…
Speirs went Hotline Miami and then full on allahu akbar on their ass. He's unhinged
As fuwamoco says, "EXTREME VIOLENCE"
Issei got his moment of badassery too. I ain't writin this just for Speirs to be badass, but to spread the badassery. Everyone will get their moments. You get a moment. You get the moment. I'm going Oprah on this fic
Mittelt turns out pretty fun too. a legal child labor, trainee of a malevolent eldritch being
Also, new cover. That right there is my boy Speirs. He's cool as heck. my oc. donut steel. pls
To address that one guest that thinks Akeno will be a lovey-dovey couple with Speirs— it can't happen. Sorry for spoiling, but there's no way that Speirs, a 25+ year old guy that has been 25+ for 7 years, someone who is born in a more fucked up version of our world cranked up to 11, would even consider a barely legal teen no matter how bombastic she looks and go 'yeah i'd tap that'. It's fucking gross. I get icky just writing it
It's a matter of principle, you see. He's too sigma for that. (Cue BMTH's CYFMH)
Also, he's an adult. An actual adult. Let's not joke around and pretend the dxd main characters are mature — they're not. They're not written to be mature. That's why they're funny and entertaining. The adults are there mostly to be side gags and goof around with all their siscons or pure unadulterated dumbassery, and matter only when Ishibumi wants to put them in a spotlight.
So yes, while indeed Akeno has taken interest in Speirs, ill-intentioned as she might be, he's born with an anti-jailbait innate wall and has his own preference. He's not in an occupation where a long-lasting relationship is preferable, and Akeno is the type that would turn insane if she can't see her boyfriend for more than 3 days
SpeirsxAkeno or anyone her age is just not happening, though it doesn't mean she won't try to make her move for the heck of it, because she's a sadist that sees Speirs as a challenge, not a man.
Anyone above that age and mature enough to accept Speirs' as a short-term fling is fair game tho.
On a TOTALLY unrelated note, fox mommy Yasaka will make her official appearance in the next chapter. Just don't come wailing at me because i changed her design, however. Just her eyebrows. And bangs. I can't stand those and I just have a deep distaste to foreheads. I'm foreheadcist. And her brows look like they'd crawl out of her face and turn into golden fluffy caterpillars
I've managed to set a (more or less) sensible plot line so that Ingvild and a slew of others show their face earlier as well, so keep an eye out for hints on her.
Follow this story for more of Speirs' unhingedness and Issei's growth towards the man he's always dream himself to be, and review. Reviews quicken this story's writing, because just as spite is what drives Speirs, reviews are my fuel
