Author's Note: I know this chapter took a while to make, and I apologize for that. My life has been hectic lately, what with school, family matters, and a great deal else. As a result, I've had very little time to write despite this chapter being mostly done for a while now.

I will be taking time away from this project for school, but I'm not going to stop writing it.

It's come too far to stop now, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, feel free to review, I always respond to reviews. Enjoy.

Chapter 15:

A Grimm Verity

Shinigami-sama frowned with curiosity as he adjusted his reading glasses and turned the page of his newest novel. He didn't need the glasses; his eyesight was perfect. The glasses did, however, give him a scholarly look that he rather liked.

It was close to two in the morning at Gallows Manor, well past the bedtime of most humans his age. But he was a shinigami. He did not need sleep or sustenance to function, unlike his weapons, who were already snoozing in their separate bedrooms.

Things like sleep and food were luxuries he knew would not always be available to him, but his book of choice was rather fascinating, and after a long day of dealing with his daughter and the reappearance of a long-dead enemy in Mosquito, he felt he deserved some time alone with a good book.

That, and his favorite character had just been killed. It was a moment in the novel that demanded an answer. He found he could make the time to read on.

As he was about to turn the page, a familiar sound emanated from his phone, the signature pinging his mirror made when he was receiving a call.

With a sigh and a grunt of effort, he reached over and grabbed his phone off the coffee table. Unsurprisingly, it was Tezca, the only other being at the DWMA that didn't need sleep. He stood against the black background of his domain, his eerily ever-smiling, faux-furred visage appearing in stunning clarity on his screen.

"Tezca," the Grim Reaper said. "It's good to see you."

"I'd apologize for calling you at this hour, but you seem to be awake, so I'll just skip straight to the bad news, if you don't mind."

Shinigami-sama raised an eyebrow. "Bad news?" he repeated.

"Yessir."

"Out with it." His words were firm, but laced with uncertainty. After all, what was so urgent that it warranted a call in the dead of night?

"We have confirmation from the German Branch that a DWMA student, a female meister, was killed in action during a routine mission."

The news hit the death god like a bullet, his eyes widening in shock, sorrow, and sordid fury all at the same time. Ever since he had taken over for his father, fatalities at the Academy had been reduced to zero. No one, student nor faculty, had died since Asura had been sealed away, save for a particularly old weapon who had passed away due to a complication with cancer.

To hear that a student, one of his students, had been killed, was a new and horrible experience for him.

He quickly snapped to focus. "Tell me everything. Now."

Tezca nodded. "The student's name is Arika Morishita, formerly an E.A.T. Student in Class Dark Moon. She was killed in action by overwhelming numbers after accomplishing her mission with her weapon partner, who was the only one between the two of them to survive the incident. Details of his account are still being verified and investigated by the German Branch."

"And her soul?"

"Secured by unknown assailants. Recovery was impossible. Morishita is officially K.I.A."

"Where is her weapon now?" Shinigami-sama's tone was deadly serious, his eyes glowing with power, knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. "What is their condition?"

"He's en route to Death City Airport, on a black flight straight from East Germany. His condition is stable, but I can't speak to his psyche."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Time of the incident was about seven hours ago."

"What!?" Shinigami-sama exclaimed incredulously, only barely keeping his voice down to avoid waking Liz and Patty. "Why did this take so long to reach me!?"

Tezca shook his head. "Red tape. The German Branch needed to confirm the death and do the proper rites, as well as an autopsy." When he saw that the Grim Reaper was not satisfied with his answer, he added, "Also, you were dealing with a vampire today, not to mention Kid's…incident."

Shinigami-sama let out a deep, angry sigh. "Get that weapon home safely, Tezca. I want him secured by our best three-star meisters the moment he touches down, is that understood? I'll go there myself if I have to."

"Sid and Naigus have already been notified, as well as a few high-level three-stars. They'll be his escort back to the Academy."

"What is his ETA?"

"7:45 our time."

"I want him in the Death Room as soon as possible. He speaks to me first, no one else. Is that clear?"

"Everyone already has orders to bring him to you, ASAP."

Shinigami-sama tilted his head in confusion, his expression still intense. "Who gave the go-ahead for that?"

"No one did, sir. It was at the student's request."

His eyes widened. "What? There's no way that a student who just lost their partner is stable enough to be making decisions like that."

"He isn't," Tezca admitted. "The psych eval done by the German Branch's dispensary pinned him for PTSD and severe emotional trauma. It's all in the case file."

"They already have a case file ready?"

"Yessir. Everything's been filed as Shinigami's Eyes Only. I have it here for you, courtesy of the headmaster."

Without prompting, the demon mirror's avatar pushed out of Shinigami-sama's phone screen and into the real world, appearing as a miniature version of himself holding a regular-sized file. It was a thick red folder marked "S.E.O." and sealed with a Death skull. As he took the folder, Shinigami-sama noticed that the labels on the tabs were in alphabetical order.

He winced when he saw the words "Next of Kin" on one of the latter tabs.

"That should answer all your questions, boss."

"I'll see you in the Death Room," Shinigami-sama said curtly, giving Tezca his cue to leave.

The demon mirror's image disappeared wordlessly as Shinigami-sama put his phone back down on the table, suddenly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. His night was ruined, and his day was suddenly very, very busy. But worst of all, one of his students was dead, and until her weapon arrived, he was in the dark about why.

Then again, perhaps he did know.

His eyes narrowed dangerously as his mind focused on a single word said by Tezca during their conversation, a word that had haunted his meetings with his staff and advisors for days: Germany.

It's undeniable now…everything points to them…to the Grimms.

Sitting back in his chair, he immediately began looking through the case file, doing his damndest to memorize every line and get every fact straight. He quickly confirmed that the weapon in question, a young man from the UK named Trevor, had personally opted out of treatment for his psychological scars at the German Branch in order to help the Academy with its investigation into his meister's death. A grimace spread across his face as more of the details filtered into his mind, confirming his worst fears.

That boy couldn't know it, but he was the key to unraveling this mystery the DWMA was suddenly under pressure to solve. It was fortunate that he was so intent on avenging his meister, Shinigami-sama mused. Otherwise, he would be responsible for scarring a boy forever in order to gain intelligence on a new enemy.

Forgetting his glasses and focusing intently on the file's pages, the Grim Reaper would continue doing his research into this case until the sun came up.

In the darkness, a lone wolf wanders, searching for prey. It has no pack to rely on, but it need not rely on them. They were only good for food, after all.

With a sharp inhale, his nose twitches, catching a scent. Faint, but there. Amphibian.

He charges off, starving, his eyes hollow and soulless.

Eventually, the scent becomes stronger, the pine and dirt of the forest no longer able to mask it. He knows his prey is here. Like a song filtering through the air, he can follow the smell.

It matters not what the creature might be.

All prey must die.

The wolf curls its head around a tree trunk and spots the frog, small, but fat, its head flat and its eyes looking out over the nearby lake. It is unaware of his presence. Its back is turned.

Slowly, so slowly, he inches forward, the pads of the feet stifling the sound of his movement.

Finally, he reaches his target, rears back, and lunges forward, teeth piercing into the cool flesh of the frog's body, blood and meat flying out from the sheer force of his bite.

Then he hears the cry of a woman, and stops dead.

He looks down.

What he has killed is no longer a frog, but a woman with silver hair, and wide, dark eyes. A woman wearing a black dress with white polka dots. A woman that is pregnant.

Her neck is in his mouth.

He has crushed her spine.

She is dead.

He steps back in shock, mouth dripping with her blood. His paws suddenly become hands at the ends of arms…complete with a pelt of human skin and hair. Claws extend from his fingers, though, and they, like his teeth, are dripping with crimson.

"Eruka…?"

He then realizes what he has just done.

"No…Eruka!"

That he has killed his wife and unborn child.

"ERUKA!"

That the wolf has gotten out…and has slaughtered everything he once held dear.

"ERUKAAAAAAA!"

He can still hear the music, faintly, the gentle notes of an old piano being played, paired with the rhythmic clicking of a weathered toy soldier's gears. It distracts him for a moment, making him turn away from the body. Then he hears another sound.

The sound of a baby crying.

With a start, Free awoke, shooting straight up out of bed, his claws slowly manifesting as he threw the covers aside, drenched in sweat. He couldn't hear his heart over the sound of his erratic, labored breathing, but it felt like a jackhammer was rattling his ribcage. Eyes wide and mouth agape in shock, he immediately turned to find that his wife was still beside him, that she was still asleep.

That she was still alive.

But his less than stellar reaction to his nightmare had caused her to stir, which Free recognized as a sign that, if he didn't shut up, he'd wake her. Bad idea, in his experience. He quickly got out of bed and shuffled out of the room, one hand on his chest, one hand on the wall.

He remained silent, his night vision allowing him to wander into the kitchen without hitting anything.

Sighing as his heart finally calmed down, he poured himself a glass of water and braced himself on the countertop, cradling his forehead with one hand.

What was that? he thought. I can't…remember.

The more he tried to grasp at the fading image of the dream in his mind, the further it got away from him. It was like trying to catch mist with his bare hands. The details eluded him, but what he could remember scared him.

It was just Eruka…screaming.

"Dammit…what's going on with me?"

Free looked at the glass of water in his hand, at the way his hand trembled.

"Maybe I just need to exercise." He brightened immediately at the thought. "Yeah…exercise. I can handle that. I'm immortal, after all."

Workouts were his therapy. Anything could be fixed with single-minded self-improvement. He had proved that.

Stress from the marriage, stress from Eruka's pregnancy, stress from running the DWMA's gym elective class for EAT students; all of it could be beaten by some pushups, situps, squats, and a run around Death City.

Knowing that Eruka wouldn't wake up if he was quiet enough, he tossed his glass in the dishwasher, snuck into their room, grabbed a pair of shorts from the closet, and left out the front door, careful not to let it slam.

Barely anyone was up at this hour. He liked the early mornings for that reason. Great time to workout before work.

Work didn't start for him until two in the afternoon, anyway.

Trevor was anxious. Scratch that; he was tired, but could find no sleep. The flight was taking forever, and he couldn't get the images out of his head.

The only thing that gave him any comfort at all, despite the overwhelming emotional torment and the lingering physical pain from the incident, was her jacket.

It was faux leather, and cropped, a favorite of hers. Dyed bright red and studded with brass buttons that had no hope of ever being used to close up its front, it was obviously a knockoff of some designer brand. It was also the first thing her mother had bought her when her family arrived in Nevada, so the story went.

She wore that jacket everywhere.

Now…it was all he had left of her.

He could still smell the blood on it, and while it repulsed him, it wasn't enough to get him to let go. No, he thought. He would never let go.

Never.

"Attention, passengers, we are now arriving in Death City airspace. We'll be on the ground in fifteen minutes. All first class passengers, be ready for departure."

The voice startled Trevor at first, but he remembered that the voice he heard was the captain's. He was the only real passenger. 'First class passenger' was their way of referring to him.

He was their charge, their witness, their VIP.

He gulped when they began to descend, his body bracing itself subconsciously as the plane's nose turned down toward the earth. It took a while for the craft to level out and touch down, then slow down, but by then, Trevor was sorted. He knew where he was, and what came next.

The three-star meisters from the German Branch that were also in the plane sprung into action the moment the plane stopped, with one of them gesturing to follow them. They walked in front of and behind him, escorting him out of the plane and down the steps to the runway, all of the meisters having a weapon in hand. It felt alien to him, having so many people fuss about him when usually, DWMA students were expected to hold their own.

When he got to the bottom of the steps, he saw two familiar people and two he didn't recognize.

One of them was a blue-skinned man with tattoos alongside a dark-skinned woman with bandages all over her body. These folks he recognized as Sid-sensei and Naigus-sensei, faculty of the Academy and highly skilled three-star meisters. The other two were in matching black suits, one a pale man with silver hair and stubble, the other a woman with deeply sun-kissed skin, dark brown hair, and vibrant eyes that were green…or were they blue?

Sid gave him a solemn nod as he approached. "You're Trevor Axion, right? E.A.T. student from Class Dark Moon?"

Trevor nodded, not sure if he could even give a verbal confirmation at that point. His voice was still somewhat shot from all the horrendous screaming he had done back at the German Branch Headquarters, his eyes were still red and raw from all the tears he had shed. He must have looked like hell, because he certainly felt like hell.

"We're so sorry for your loss, kid," Naigus said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Losing a partner like that is never easy."

He swallowed hard and said, hoarsely, "Thank you," his cockney accent only barely coming through. It was very little consolation, but it was something other than orders and directions, which he truly was thankful for after the trials he'd been through at the German Branch.

"Normally, we'd be escorting you home," Sid began, "But we're under orders to escort you to the Death Room immediately, apparently by your own request. Do I have that right?"

"Yes, sir," he answered numbly. "I…I want to get whoever was behind this…for her. Shinigami-sama has to know…what happened."

"That's the way to be," the woman in the suit said with an approving nod. "You're doing the right thing."

Trevor was going to say something, but stopped when he noticed that her eyes had actually changed color, from blue to a deep royal purple, and were shifting again to fuschia.

"This is Ethan and his wife Rio," Naigus explained. "They're gonna help us get you to Shinigami-sama safe and sound."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, but we should get moving," Ethan said, his eyes on the space around them, scanning for threats. "We don't want to give your enemies a chance to get to you before you can meet with him."

Trevor's eyes widened. "Do you think they followed me? Here?" he whispered shakily.

"It's doubtful, but possible," Sid admitted, his expression unchanging. "Either way, he's right. Time to exfil." He turned to Naigus. "Let's go."

Naigus and Rio quickly and silently transformed, becoming a combat knife and a snub-nose revolver, respectively. They settled into their partners' hands with practiced ease, and Sid and Ethan nodded to each other in a way that said volumes of their discipline and teamwork. With a hard swallow and a grim nod, Trevor settled in between them and about a dozen other senior DWMA members, ready to make his long, secured trek to the Academy proper.

He tightened his grip on Arika's jacket, a small trickle of crimson seeping into the skin of his fingers.

Never let go…

Gray Star had been awake for an hour, pretending to meditate. In actuality, she had spent the last sixty two minutes staring at the ceiling, trying not to imagine all the things that could go wrong at school. Trying and not succeeding.

Kim-sensei had warned her not to get too far into her own head, to stop herself from going down dark rabbit holes, but all her instincts told her that something bad was bound to happen.

With a sigh, she sat up, made her bed quickly, did a few pushups and situps, dressed, and stepped outside her door. She found Sage waiting for her, dressed and ready to go. He nodded solemnly to her, and gestured to the front door.

He knew she wouldn't eat breakfast, and he had already had his, so they just carried on and left the apartment in silence.

It wasn't a cold silence, but an understanding one. They both knew the situation, who they had to protect, why it was important. There wasn't much to discuss.

When they got to Kid and the twins' apartment, it was Lenny who answered the door. He and his sister quickly filed out, somewhat glum looks on their faces. As the door closed, Gray Star caught a glimpse of Kid in her pajamas, striding past to light a smoke on the balcony out past the kitchen, and her heart skipped a beat.

She didn't actually know why there was a visceral reaction at all, and just assumed it was because her shinobi instincts told her that Kid still had it out for her.

Yeah, that was it.

"The package is secure, as they say," Sage noted.

"Thanks for helping us, Sage," the twins said in strangely dejected unison. "You too, cous," they added as Gray Star came down the front steps.

"It's okay. That's what family is for," she said with a smile.

Sage raised an eyebrow. "For defending against would-be assassins?"

"In our family? Yes. All the time."

The demon shadow weapon gave her an impressed frown and nodded in approval, apparently surprised by both her blatant honesty and the truth of her statement in hindsight.

She shook her head. "C'mon, let's get going. The others'll meet us there."

It was a decent walk from the apartment to the Academy's front steps, and the whole way, Sage asked the twins questions to make sure they knew how to get to the school without Kid's help. Their answers didn't inspire confidence in him. When they did finally get to the Academy proper, they were met by Specter and Nina, as well as Honey Lang and the Pots.

"Good to see you, Honey Lang," Gray Star said as they approached. "Thanks for helping us."

"Sure thing, girl! Always ready to help a friend." She smirked. "Speaking of, I gotta ask: why didn't Allie ask for my help when you were out looking for Jen and Len the other night?"

Gray Star blinked in surprise. "I…don't know, honestly. Maybe she figured we had it covered so long as we had all the eight main roads covered?"

"No, it wasn't that," they all heard Allie say.

Turning around, they found that she was just coming up the steps alongside Flint. The others weren't too far behind, in small side conversations or on their phones. Allie just shook her head as she regarded Honey Lang.

"I must have double tapped your contact or fat fingered it or something," she explained, "Otherwise, I would have totally had you come along. We needed all the help we could get last night."

Honey Lang chuckled as the Pots positioned themselves on her right and left. "You know, if it was left up to me, I betcha Wind and Water could have found the twins pretty quick. They are Earth Shamans, after all. They can use the power of nature or some shit to find folks."

"That makes sense," Sage said with a nod. "I was wondering why you weren't a part of the search effort, but I was left to assume you were busy and couldn't come."

"Nope, I'm just an idiot," Allie said, pinching the bridge of her nose out of sheer annoyance with herself.

"Oh, you do that too," the twins muttered, recognizing Shinigami-sama's habit in her.

"Hey, at least we found 'em before it got too late," Specter said as he joined the conversation, bringing his sister with him. He turned to Honey Lang. "If things had gotten bad, you would've been our first call."

The pot meister grinned. "Fair 'nuff."

"Hey, speaking of first calls, why aren't Slash and Post here?" Nina piped up. "They could have helped yesterday and today, and Slash would never turn down a fight, even if her ass was on the line."

Slash Hudson La Grange and her brother Post Joseph-Louie La Grange were the children of Jacqueline-sensei, demon lantern and weapon of Kim-sensei. They were an odd duo, Slash a loudmouth rocker girl and Post a brilliant, studious mute. But they made for a flashy and deadly team, infamous for their strange abilities and the fact that they were the only non-witch weapon and meister pair required by the Academy to take advanced classes normally intended for magic users.

"Slash and Post are out on a mission right now," Rose said, pointing to some texts on her phone. "She's been updating her Deathstagram. Apparently October is Costa Rica's rainy season, so she's bored as fuck right now."

"Huh, must have missed that," Max remarked, checking his phone out of habit. "I wonder who they're after over there…"

Val just sighed and folded his arms. "We should be focusing on who's gonna come after us. The twins are kinda marked for death, man." When he noticed that Lenny and Jenny were literally shaking in their skate shoes, he added, "Uhhhhh, I mean, you're not actually marked for death. Just…you know…metaphorically."

"Talk about stressful," Specter said flatly. "I wish I had an edible handy."

Nina chuckled. "Dumbass. I have a couple spares if you really need one."

"Save it for when you get home," Max said coldly. "Now's not the time for that."

Honey Lang chuckled. "Chill, guys. I think we can handle this. What's the worst that could—" she was cut off suddenly as Pot of Wind tugged on her jeans. "What is it, Wind?"

Wind and Water were identical twins in every sense of the word; they had the same whitish blonde hair, the same dark skin, the same almond-shaped blue eyes. She could only be differentiated by her pure white overalls and newsboy's cap, which was only marginally different from her brother's dark blue version of the same outfit. But Wind was definitely the more cautious of the two.

She had a knack for spotting trouble, while her brother had a knack for getting into trouble. Specter and the gang all knew this. So when Wind pointed to a group of four students approaching from the Academy doors, everyone immediately tensed.

They all looked like first-years, which was unexpected. The troupe consisted of three boys and one girl, the girl having orange curls and a sneer that could kill a charging elephant, while the other boys ranged from scrawny to jacked, all of them wearing some variation of the same knowing smirk. Something was off about them, too, like they had a built-in air of superiority.

"What the hell are y'all lookin' at?" Flint said, folding his arms as the quartet approached.

"My name's Roxanne," the orange-haired girl said. "This is my partner, Sting," she said, gesturing to the reedy boy next to her. "Those two are Benny, and Hill."

"And?" Val said expectantly.

"And we want to duel your friends right there," Sting said with a grin, pointing at Jenny and Lenny.

"As a mob?" Allie said with a scowl. "Over my dead body."

"Yeah, what makes you think you can just roll up as a squad and beat up Kid's weapons for shits and giggles?" Nina spat. "You're low on brain cells if you think we're gonna let that happen. Get lost."

"You know how this goes. If they don't step up…" Benny began.

"...they can say goodbye to their rep," Hill finished. "Whatever's left of it, after yesterday."

Everyone grimaced as the duo fist-bumped. Despite their disgust, everyone knew that they—unfortunately—had a point. The twins were the son and daughter of one of Shinigami-sama's weapons, but without the respect of their peers, that didn't mean much.

And with Kid effectively being blacklisted by almost all of the first-year E.A.T. students already, the consequences of losing rep at their school were crystal clear.

Gray Star grimaced as she recalled all of her mother's stories about how her father had become the most hated student at the Academy multiple times throughout his career. Not that he cared. He thrived on notoriety.

Roxanne just chuckled. "Just get out of our way. If you wanna fight, let's just fight. But we're not leaving."

"You must be brave or stupid if you want to pick a fight with us right before homeroom," Max said with a shake of his head.

"I'm gonna go with stupid, Maxie," Rose said with a malicious grin. "We got the numbers advantage, not to mention they're challenging some of the best our class has to offer."

"Some?" Stanford muttered to himself.

Specter narrowed his eyes in determination. "Your best move is to back off before this gets ugly."

"I agree with mini-me. Now's not the time to be picking fights."

The tension evolving between the two groups immediately faltered upon hearing a deeper, darker, more calm version of Specter's voice emanate from somewhere nearby. Everyone turned their heads and were surprised to see Specter and Nina's father, Soul. He was leaning back against one of the Academy's exterior pillars, a very neutral expression on his currently unshaven face.

"Oh, shit," Benny said under his breath.

"It's the last death scythe…" Hill whimpered.

Soul just shook his head. "You guys are really out of the loop, huh?"

Roxanne gulped. "What do you mean? Are we in trouble?" she ventured. "We didn't do anything."

"No," he said calmly. "I just wanted to give you these."

He reached into the confines of his pinstripe suit, and Roxanne and her posse flinched instinctively as if he were reaching for a weapon despite the fact that he was one. What he drew instead, however, shocked everyone. Four black armbands with a white Death skull insignia stitched into them.

Mourning bands.

"Someone in your class is gone," he continued coldly. "And you're out here picking fights." A frown tugged at the corners of his face, making him look more cross than he probably was. "Have some respect for the dead."

He tossed the bands at them, and the kids held them at length like they were hot coals or live grenades before examining them with a sort of morbid curiosity. They looked to Soul for an answer, but he didn't give them one. He just pushed himself off the pillar and walked over, making them take a few steps back out of fear and reverence.

"Get out of here," Soul said, jerking his thumb back at the Academy doors. "I'm not gonna report you this time, but if I hear anything about unsupervised duels today, I'm not gonna let it slide, get me?"

Roxanne and her friends all exchanged worried looks, looked at Specter and company, then up at Soul, then finally nodded in understanding and left, defeated.

Max let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Soul-sensei."

"Yeah, thanks for the save, dad," Specter added, his shark teeth making an appearance as he grinned.

"Not that we needed it," Nina huffed.

Soul just shrugged, not frowning but not smiling. "If it had become a fight, you guys would have won. But it wouldn't have looked good for anyone involved."

"Yeah, right," Rose said with a snort. "We would've destroyed them."

"That's exactly the problem, firestarter," Flint said flatly.

Allie nodded in agreement. "Flint's right. If we were pinned for this fight, even if we didn't do anything wrong, people would talk. And we all know what talk can do to people at this school."

Rose shook her head and said nothing, clearly not convinced. She had always been the more aggressive one between her and Max. Even when they were kids, she had both bullied and protected him despite being his younger sibling.

"I don't give a shit about rumors," Soul began, "but I have a feeling this school is gonna get hit with a storm of gossip and bad press soon."

"Is it true, what you said?" Val asked. "That someone died?"

"I wish it wasn't, but, yeah. Someone's dead. A first-year."

Max's eyes widened in shock, everyone else reacting and looking at each other for answers.

"Was it…I mean, was it…" he swallowed hard and trailed off, unable to finish the question.

A grim smile split Soul's face. "It's not anyone we know, if that's what you're asking."

He watched as they all sighed with relief, and he relaxed a little bit himself.

"Do you know who it was?" Allie asked.

"I do, but I can't say," Soul said. "I've probably already said too much. But I know you won't go around blabbing to everyone about this." He shot his own daughter and Rose a knowing look. "Right, ladies?"

Nina and Rose each rolled their eyes before making a big show of drawing Xs over their hearts, something their respective parents had often made them do as part of a promise not to gossip when they were younger.

Soul nodded approvingly. "Good. Last thing I need is Shinigami-sama finding out that I let need-to-know information slip."

"What, we don't need to know?" Honey Lang said, mock offended.

"Bossman's going to make an announcement officially later. Right now, we're just making sure the press and the people of Death City don't get the…" he trailed off as a group of three-star meisters headed by Sid and Naigus approached from the Academy's front steps, headed for the entrance.

"…full picture."

It was a veritable crowd of people, most of them in black suits that, while similar to the ones worn by the DWMA three-stars, were slightly different in style. The only ones not wearing suits were Sid, Naigus, and someone who was heavily obscured by the folks surrounding him. But the gaps between their arms and torsos did allow some details to peek through.

A bit of blonde hair here. Some blue denim there. And something in his arms that was so red it was blinding.

That was all they got as the newcomer and his security force entourage made their way through the front doors of the school just as the bells for first period rang.

"That was…interesting," Stanford said, which made everyone turn and look at him.

"Jesus, Stan, I forgot you were here," Val said flatly.

"Who was that?" Allie asked.

Soul just put his hands up in defeat. "I'm not at liberty to say. Just forget you saw anything and get your asses to class." He looked at his children along with Max and Rose. "You know how your mom and Ox…I mean, Professor Ford …get when you guys are late to homeroom."

Specter snickered, earning him a punch in the arm from Max, and from there, a little bit of life returned to the group. They said their farewells and jogged away, some more worried than others about being late. Soul smiled as he watched them go, half proud and half saddened. In a perfect world, all his kids and their friends would have to worry about would be gossip, parties, flirting, and sometimes homework. But their world was more complicated than that.

They were kid soldiers, warriors training and fighting real threats.

He folded his arms and looked up at the Academy's grand facade, at the large skulls that looked out over Death City and the candles that cast golden light on their smooth white granite faces.

It's been a while since we lost anyone, he mused. Hope that kid's doin' alright.

Trevor sat with his hands in his lap, unsure of what to do with them. His entrance to the Death Room had been abrupt and fraught with commotion as folks with weapons secured the area and led him to the raised dais that made up Shinigami-sama's office space. Now, he was sitting on a comfy sofa with her crimson jacket over his legs, nervously looking around as the chamber's illusory clouds spun lazily in a circle overhead.

"First and foremost, I need to tell you that I'm sorry for your loss," Shinigami-sama said, snapping the young man to attention. "Losing a meister is hard, but losing a friend and a partner is even harder."

Silence hung in the air between them for a moment. No one else was in the room. The Grim Reaper had sent everyone, even his weapons, out for the sake of privacy. It almost made Trevor uncomfortable, but he knew better than to think that way. This was the safest and best way to do what he had set out to do.

To tell his story, and to bury the bastards that had killed Arika.

"Thank you," Trevor said numbly. "Coming from you…that means a lot."

"I hope that it won't be the only consolation I can give you." The Grim Reaper folded his hands together and sat back in his chair, thoughtful. "I read your case file in its entirety as soon as I was informed of your situation. Am I right in saying that you arranged to see me immediately after the incident?"

He nodded.

Calling Arika's murder merely an incident chafed at Trevor's soul. He knew Shinigami-sama meant well, but that word didn't do the situation justice. It couldn't mask the severity of the pain it had caused him.

His grip on her jacket tightened.

Was causing him, he corrected himself.

Shinigami-sama sighed. "What you went through was traumatic, which should go without saying. Normally, I would recommend a full psychological evaluation and treatment for severe PTSD, among other things." His eyes narrowed. "However, in this instance, I'm glad you came to me first."

Trevor's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Honestly? Because it saved me from the responsibility of mentally scarring you in order to get ahead in an ongoing investigation."

"Ongoing…you mean…you know who did this?"

"No, not for certain," the Grim Reaper admitted. "But you may be able to help us identify them and eliminate them before they can hurt anyone else."

The tone shift in the room was immediate.

"You have to understand; the last time the DWMA had to deal with an organized threat like this was over twenty years ago, when your instructors and I were still students, like you."

His eyes narrowed as he recalled the struggles he, Maka, and Black Star had gone through dealing with Medusa, Arachnophobia, Noah, and finally his own brother Asura.

"We're on the brink of all-out war against a cell that wants our Academy dismantled, a cell that we don't have many leads on. But your case file…what you went through…it may yet give us what we need to find this cell and eliminate it."

Shinigami-sama paused to let Trevor take everything in, then continued.

"Before we go any further, I need to explain something to you." He leaned forward in his chair, his expression deathly serious. "I know you're still recovering from the loss of your meister, but as of now, you are officially a part of an ongoing investigation. As a key witness, we may need you to become an active participant in Academy missions pertaining to this investigation, which among other things, could include field work."

"Field work," Trevor said, a whisper of hope in his voice. "You mean I can go out and take down the bastards who did this?"

The Grim Reaper nodded. "Potentially. Normally, I wouldn't allow such a thing. When it comes to missions and investigations like these, personal involvement can be dangerous. My father, for instance, lost dozens of his elites to their own personal vendettas, as well as their grief." He grimaced. "But in this case, we have no choice. Whether we like it or not, you're involved in this. You've potentially seen our enemy firsthand, and because of that, we need your help."

"But what can I do?" Trevor said solemnly, his hands open as if he was literally grasping for an answer. "I'm a weapon without a meister…"

"I can only imagine how hard it is for a weapon to lose a meister, and while I can't help you work through the problems that stem from that, what I can do is find you a new meister."

"I don't know if I'm worth that much…I couldn't save Arika. Who's to say I can save my next meister?"

"Mr. Axion…look at me."

Trevor's eyes widened. He hadn't even realized that he was looking down at her jacket, that his vision was swimming with tears, that his grip on its faux red leather was white-knuckle. With a shake of his head, he finally looked up to see Shinigami-sama wearing a softer, more mournful expression that he was used to seeing on other people.

"Arika's death is not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I didn't put a halt to student missions going into Germany. Had I done that, your meister would be alive, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

For a moment, anger, like lightning, forked through the neurons of Trevor's mind. Of course it was his fault. It had to be.

But…he knew that wasn't true. He just wanted Arika back, back and alive again. Blaming someone who was, at best, indirectly responsible wouldn't change anything.

Especially when that someone was willing to shoulder all the blame for his sake.

"No," Trevor said softly, then again, more clearly, "No. This isn't your fault, either, sir. Arika…she…" His grip tightened. "She saved my life…by sacrificing her own."

Shinigami-sama nodded once in understanding. "It's not enough of a reason, is it?"

"No, it isn't."

Another nod. "Vengeance…isn't the answer. But bringing these people to justice may bring a catharsis that therapy may not be able to." He suddenly brightened at the sound of the Death Room's chamber door opening. "That said, we do have access to a medic, therapist, and healer all in one, not to mention a soul specialist. Between them, I'm sure we can take care of you."

Trevor turned his head as he heard two sets of footsteps approach. After a double take, he understood what Shinigami-sama meant. Under the last guillotine archway stood Dr. Franken Stein and the Academy nurse, Kim-sensei.

"Good to see you both," Shinigami-sama said as he stood up. "Please, take a seat anywhere."

Kim-sensei opted to sit next to Trevor, placing a soft hand on his shoulder and giving him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said calmly. He didn't know why, but somehow, her words did make him feel better, if only for a moment.

Stein simply turned a nearby wooden chair around so he could rest his arms on the back, sitting equidistant from everyone.

"Trevor," Shinigami-sama began, "Now that everyone's here…I want you to try and do something for me."

When Trevor didn't say anything in return, he continued.

"I want you to walk us through what happened, to try and recall as many details as possible to give us a clearer picture of this threat."

Trevor must have unconsciously flinched, because Kim gave him a reassuring smile and said, "If it gets too difficult for you, let me know, and I'll use my magic to soften the blow."

She waved her hand for emphasis, leaving behind a trail of bright pink and fuschia particles in the air.

"I…I mean…" Trevor trailed off, unsure of what he could add.

To his eternal surprise, he felt determined. He was scared out of his mind, sure. But he was determined.

Yes, he would tell her story, and though it would kill him inside to tell them how it ended…he would do right by her and see it through.

For her.

"Alright, um…I guess I'll just start from the beginning, eh?"

The adults around him nodded in agreement.

"Right…"

He steeled himself, took a breath, and began.

"When we landed in Dresden, everything was business as usual…"

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Arika said happily, quick to snap pictures of everything she could find at the airport.

To be fair, the airport itself was beautiful, a massive showcase of modern architecture with sweeping white arches and large triangular windows that created intricate criss-crosses of shadow that stretched across the pristine tiled floors in a symmetrical pattern.

But she wasn't taking pictures of any of that. She never did take pictures of what most tourists did. So far, she had captured the bottom of a stranger's coffee cup, the shoulder of a young boy who was crying as his mother guided him to the bathroom, and the toe of her own shoe slamming into a support beam.

To call her even an amateur photographer was generous, but her pictures were fun, all the same.

She twirled about to face him, her raven-colored hair getting in her face before she brushed it aside, smiling ear to ear. Her short, straight locks were colored a deep blue in places in order to match her eyes, a decision made last minute the night before their flight. It looked good on her.

"Come on, Ari, we need to get going," Trevor said, subconsciously scanning the floor to make sure the luggage he was dragging behind him didn't hit anyone's toes. "Grendel isn't going to take himself out, right?"

"Ugh, fine," Arika said, mock crestfallen. "I suppose business comes first."

It was late afternoon in Dresden, and the buildings in the plaza outside the airport cast long, deep shadows as the sun glided toward the horizon line, laughing as he did.

"Are you sure we have good intel on this guy?" she asked, staring at a page in her notebook. It held the ticket from the missions desk as well as her own doodles and bullet points on Grendel, an ogre who was supposedly responsible for various deaths across Germany.

Trevor nodded. "That Hiro guy said something about how he only comes out at sunset."

She checked her phone. "Sun sets in an hour. Should be enough time to drop off our stuff, find a perch, and wait for this goon to find some dumbass wandering around Zwinger Palace."

"He sticks his neck out, we take his head off, job done," Trevor added with a grin.

They were used to setting up long range killboxes for their targets, what with Trevor being a long range weapon. Grendel, apparently some type of ogre or beast out of German folklore, had been snatching folks and consuming their souls within Dresden city limits. Zwinger Palace was the site of the last attack, and by all accounts, it was where he would strike again.

But he wouldn't last long in an open courtyard with rifle fire raining down from on high.

"I wonder what our pad looks like this time around," Arika said as she jotted down a few more things into her notebook, mostly some quick math regarding firing angles and the occasional doodle. "I hope we have a good view from our balcony."

Trevor chuckled when he saw a sketch of a rifle round blowing a cartoon ogre's head off. Her red jacket fluttered in the breeze as she walked ahead of him, taking in the sights. When she spun around to look at him, a sheer delight in experiencing a new place painted on her features, a part of him was happy too.

He didn't know how much he would miss seeing her wear that jacket until it was too late.

As he listened to the young man's story, Professor Stein did his part to evaluate Trevor's relationship with his deceased meister. It wasn't because he doubted its solidity or strength. Rather, in addition to evaluating the evidence of the case and determining its relevance to the DWMA's investigation into the Grimms, he was also determining who could possibly be Trevor's replacement meister.

He already had a candidate in mind, but he still wasn't sure if she was a good fit for Trevor, or vice versa.

Kim, meanwhile, listened carefully for signs of trauma or stress hidden in his account. The fact that he had begun the story with his meister alive and well was a good sign, even if it wasn't necessarily pertinent to how she died. She made a mental note to evaluate just how much of an effect his loss had on his ability to process his emotions.

He looked to be holding himself together, but only barely. But that was because the trauma of what had happened to her was about to be laid out before everyone in the room, an outpouring of information, grief, and suffering. She had to hope her tanuki magic could keep him from having a nervous breakdown, for his sake…and possibly the world's.

"This is so boooooriiiiing…" Arika said, drawing out the last word as long as possible to convey her frustration.

"It's only been a half hour, luv."

"Doesn't make this any less boring. Just watching other people sightsee. Riveting."

"Well, it's…" Trevor checked his watch. "…seven-aught-five right now, and the reports say Grendel makes a meal out of most folks before the sun goes down."

"This is a prime time for him to strike…I wonder why he only goes after muscular guys."

Trevor shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe he was tired of hunting middle-aged mums?"

"No!" she said with a laugh. "Can't be that. Everyone he's killed has been a ripped dude in his thirties. Guess that's his type."

Her eyes widened and she suddenly sat up, alert.

"Speaking of…we've got a juicy target running right through the courtyard…dead ahead, twelve o'clock, and one bogey moving to intercept."

Trevor squinted and put his hand over his eyes to focus his vision, but it only took him a moment to see what his meister saw. A large, lumbering creature with dark green skin, shaggy black fur, and a canine head was about to rip a young jogger in half. The man was clearly terrified, sprinting away as fast as his legs could carry him.

Of course, he tripped and fell, allowing Grendel to take his time approaching, one clawed hand raised to strike.

"Trev. Gun, please."

Jumping into action, Trevor disappeared into a ball of light, rematerializing as a Winchester 1886. He settled into Arika's grip, and she, with practiced ease, curled into a shooting position and aimed downrange at her target. It only took a moment of mental math for her to figure out her distance from Grendel.

One breath. One second. One pull of the trigger.

On the ground, Grendel's potential victim scrambled away, desperate to get back on his feet and get away but his limbs failed him. It was as if his arms and legs wouldn't obey his commands. He let out a cry and averted his eyes as the ogre before him moved to tear his throat out.

There was a loud sound, and then…a moment passed…then another, and another.

When the man opened his eyes again, he found that Grendel was not attacking him anymore. The beast's focus was elsewhere. Looking down, he realized that the beast was wounded; a fresh hole had been blasted into its shoulder.

He then realized that was his cue to book it, and did so, his heart beating like a wild rabbit's.

Grendel turned and snarled only to see a pinprick of light bloom on a distant rooftop, then feel another bullet carve through his hip. On that rooftop, Arika chambered Trevor's lever and fired again. This time, she aimed for the head, but the monster ducked out of the way just in the nick of time.

So she chambered, then fired again. Chamber, then fire. Chamber, then fire.

Chamber, fire, chamber, fire, chamber, fire!

The sound of Arika delivering shot after shot was rhythmic in a way that was almost soothing to Trevor. He knew that if Arika fell into her rhythm, their targets were bound to go down quick. And that turned out to be the case with Grendel.

Just as the sun began to fall past the horizon line, the massive black-furred ogre wolf of Germany fell, his body perforated all over, and twisted himself into onyx ribbons, his crimson soul left to float in Zwinger Palace's main interior courtyard.

Arika grinned and rested Trevor on her shoulder, satisfied with a job well done.

"Kill confirmed," she said.

She said that every time they got their bad guy.

Or rather, she used to say that.

The clock ticked life away as she sat there, the cig in her teeth burned down to the filter. Smoke hung in the air, laughing gray skulls weaving wispy trails around the smoke detector that was dangling from a hole in the stucco ceiling, suspended by its own electrical wires. She felt neither asleep nor awake, and it took mental serious energy to figure out whether or not she had her eyes open.

Kid was out of cigarettes, out of brain cells, and out of patience with herself.

She had things to do, and no time to do them, but she couldn't focus. Emails littered her laptop screen, multiple windows displaying warning after warning, pages to read, assignments to do, due dates, stipulations, prompts, mandates, and on and on and on. It was endlessly frustrating.

Cartons of cigarettes were scattered across her room, with a small mountain of them burying her feet in white cardstalk and red labels.

Another breath of nicotine shot out of her nose as she stared blankly at her screen. When her eyes wandered to the time in the bottom left corner, she snorted. It was close to noon.

Shinigami couldn't be killed by smoke inhalation; she had figured that out.

She wondered, morbidly, if a shinigami could die of starvation.

It was quiet in the halls of the DWMA, unusually so. But that was fine. She enjoyed the stillness.

Prof. McLoughlin grinned as she looked out the massive hall windows and into the training forest, a sandwich in one hand and a coffee in the other. She expected to see some of the students out there, talking, having a good time. To her surprise, no one was really out and about.

A ding from her phone kept her from thinking about what that could mean. She swiftly put the sandwich under her arm and withdrew her device from her coat pocket. The home screen always made her smile in a sad way.

It was a picture of her and her weapon from ages ago, a picture of a girl who had just turned sixteen that day and a man who had survived the horrors of World War II. Moving past that memory, she found that the notification was from a company email. An Academy email.

The subject line had "URGENT" in it, which she knew wasn't a good sign, but she wasn't all that worried. So often, these emails were Shinigami-sama announcing some formal event or reporting an increase in absences. They were never really urgent.

Out of obligation to read it more than anything, she opened it and read the first few lines. Her heart stopped when she saw the words "Arika Morishita" and "KIA" in the same sentence just a paragraph down. The world stopped making sense in that moment, a storm of emotions ripping through her mind.

The first emotion to surface, though, was sheer rage. Anger. Spurred on by her disbelief, she was around the corner before her lunch hit the floor tiles, sprinting for the Death Room with everything she had.

It wasn't true.

It couldn't be true.

Not one of her students.

Not her.

As Trevor ate Grendel's soul, a chill ran down Arika's spine, causing her to shiver for a moment. He didn't notice. It would prove to be a moment he'd agonize over for many days.

"Hey, Trev…" she said slowly, her head turning on a swivel, "…you ever feel like you're being watched?"

He swallowed hard as he turned to look at her. "Sometimes…why?"

He watched as she scanned the horizon, and almost flinched as she reflexively reached out for him as the sun fell further out of view. Were it not for the tone in her voice, he would think she was grabbing at his arm to show him how beautiful the sky was. The expanse above them was indeed a layer cake of marmalade, violet, and black with stars, a gorgeous sight.

If only they had the chance to see it.

"We've got company," she said slowly, eyes narrowed. "The bad kind."

Trevor's head snapped frantically to and fro, trying to locate what his meister clearly perceived as a threat. He finally spotted them, silhouettes on the rooftops and balconies of the buildings surrounding Zwinger Plaza, barely visible in the quickly fading light. There were even some bogies standing on the exact spot he and Arika had shot Grendel from mere minutes ago.

"What are those things?" he breathed.

"I dunno, but let's put some holes in them before they surround us!"

As if they were waiting for her cue, the shadowy figures bolted toward them, a swarm of thirty or more closing in from all sides. Trevor half-expected to see wolves or ogres after fighting Grendel, but in fact, these creatures, whatever they were, varied in shape, size, and seemingly even species. Humanoid cats, rats, what looked like small devils and even animated shadows and puddles of black ichor all rushed toward them.

The closest were able to dodge Arika's shots despite her stellar aim, and before long, the monsters had completely encircled them.

"Arika!" Trevor called out, warning in his tone.

"I got it!"

Sensing what she wanted to do, they both cried out in unison: "Let's go, soul resonance!"

There was a bright flash of light, and some of the monsters paused momentarily while the others continued to barrel ahead. When the light subsided, Trevor's lever action rifle form was not at all different on the outside, but on the inside, something drastic had changed. More power surged through him, Arika's soul feeding him a new and deadly ammunition.

"Express."

The first creature to reach them, something resembling a bipedal antelope, was only barely able to dodge out of the way as their opening shot with the new caliber ripped through the air, actually taking out one of its comrades in the process.

When the antelope did arrive and attempted to gore Arika with its horns, she pulled the trigger again and disappeared, which confused the creature. Two more shots rang out, and she was put suddenly behind it, Trevor's barrel pressed against its head. One trigger pull took its head off quite easily.

As she used Trevor's new explosive power to launch herself out of the swarm of shadowy monsters, Arika noticed something that didn't seem right.

"Trev," she said in alarm, "These things aren't normal!"

"What gave you that impression, love!? The fact that they came out of nowhere, or the fact that they seem to be made of living black ink!?"

"Their souls are green!"

"Green?" Trevor narrowed his eyes in thought. What could that possibly mean?

Unfortunately, he had no time to figure it out, as one of the mob on the ground below sprouted wings and began to make chase. Two more shot after them, launched by sickly extra appendages. Arika was able to get some distance and blast the first beast away, but the two that followed struck her in mid-air and sent her careening toward a low rooftop.

Trevor watched helplessly from his soul pocket as she cracked the red tiles on impact, blood beginning to spill from where one of them had cut her arm.

"Arika!" he cried.

She looked up just in time to avoid a lethal blow, but was still slashed across the shoulder by sickle-like claws, the force of the attack throwing her body sidelong and into a wall. Pulverized stone and stucco made a cloud around her as she raised Trevor to fire, shooting blindly through the dust as more of the creatures made it onto the rooftop. A few bullets did manage to hit something, a few guttural screams tearing through the air.

As the shadows grew closer, she prepared for close quarters combat.

Two beasts rushed in, claws at the ready, but she deflected one by using Trevor's rifle form as a shield. Firing at the same time, she blasted a hole in the other, the force of the shot burying Trevor's stock into the first monster's face. It was sent flying back with a canine-like yelp.

For a brief period of time, Arika was able to hold up against the onslaught, shooting her assailants out of the air, pole vaulting over them on the ground, and spinning Trevor around like a flag twirler to beat them down wherever they were.

But it wasn't enough. A few attacks broke through, claws and teeth tearing into her flesh, her own blood staining her clothes as she did her best to defend herself. In the end, Arika chose to make a break for it, using every ounce of power Trevor had to jettison herself out of danger.

But something was waiting for her on the ground below, a fiendish looking bear with glowing green eyes that leapt up and crashed into her at full force. The blow made her change direction, serving her up to be smacked down by a shadowy imp wielding what looked like a mallet. Trevor didn't see much else as he was thrown from Arika's grip, clattering onto the ground as his meister slammed into a pillar on the inner perimeter of the courtyard.

"Arika! ARIKA!"

He turned back into himself and found her crumpled at the foot of the pillar, a distinct blood trail starting halfway up the stonework and ending where her head was.

"Arika, please, get up!"

When she opened her eyes again, he knew something was wrong. She was worried, panicked, but somehow, her eyes were calm, if a little unfocused. Like she knew something he didn't, that she had bad news that she didn't have the heart to tell him about.

"Trev…" she said finally, unable to lift her arm to hold him despite putting in the effort.

He met her more than halfway and took her hand, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Arika…"

She tightened her grip, but it didn't amount to much. If she was clinging to life, her hold on it was weak already. He put his hand over hers.

"Just…go…" she breathed. "I'm…done."

"No, I won't leave you, Ari!"

It was at that moment that every one of the shadow monsters on the rooftops above made their way down, a thunderous stampede of hooves, feet, and limbs crashing onto the earth and paved stones of the Zwinger Palace courtyard.

She coughed up a gout of blood, a mere hint as to the damage done to her insides.

"Run, Trev," she managed to say, "They can't get you too."

A green fireball came out of the swarm, missing Trevor by inches.

"Go!" she cried. "Please!"

It took everything he had to not try and shield her, to not fight to the bitter end and die alongside her. But in the end, it was her eyes that did him in. He knew that look.

The look that told him everything was going to be alright…even when it wasn't.

He ducked just in time to avoid a lethal strike from the same bear-like creature that had attacked them earlier, its claws carving out parallel chunks of stone out of the pillar and kicking up a massive cloud of dust. Tucking and rolling to the side, he made a break for it, sprinting as fast as he could. Two more creatures, the imp with the mallet and a strange bearded humanoid with a small pickaxe, attempted to block his path, but he simply jumped over them.

The last thing he heard was a scream, and then the overwhelming cacophony of growls, grunts, and howls that was the swarm of shadows behind him.

Though he desperately wanted to, he knew he couldn't look back.

She was dead, and there was nothing he could do.

The only thing he could do was honor her last wish, and make sure they didn't get him too.

"I ran…all the way to the German Branch," Trevor said slowly. "I just followed the signs until I got to the gates, and…they took me in."

Shinigami-sama nodded, frowning. "From there, they fended off your pursuers and launched an investigation."

"It's all in the case file," Stein said, waving the file in question before throwing it on the skull table.

The thud it made when it hit the wood startled Trevor. It was a heavy folder, packed to the brim with perfectly arranged paperwork. Weathered from dozens of hands flipping through it, the pale red manila had a label on it that Trevor had come to understand the meaning of in bold black print: "S.E.O."

Shinigami's Eyes Only.

As he squinted at it, he realized there was another label on the folder: "Ongoing investigation".

"But Trevor's insights did yield something important, didn't they," Kim-sensei said. It wasn't a question.

Shinigami-sama nodded. "Indeed. We better understand the capabilities of our enemies."

"These creatures you described all have their roots in European folklore," Stein explained. "Goblins, dwarves, gremlins, imps, ursa minors, shadows, oozes, catfolk, ratfolk…etcetera."

"That tells us that our anti-DWMA cell is based in Europe, specifically in Germany, and that we've encountered them before."

"Really?" Trevor said. "Um…where did you—"

A loud crack interrupted him as something burst into the Death Room, crashing through its doors.

"Fucking hell!" he swore, surprising himself. "What was that!?"

Looking around, he realized that everyone else was ready for action, all of them wearing distinct and unique expressions of surprise. He thought they were under attack for a moment. But as he registered their expressions, he realized that they were less alarmed and more…concerned.

It was only when he turned around that he understood why: his Resonance teacher was fighting Shinigami-sama's pistols.

"Professor McLoughlin?"

Reference Notes

Roxanne, Sting, Benny, and Hill: The four first-years that challenge the gang to a fight are named after various musical references. "Roxanne" is a song that was made by the band The Police in 1991. The lead singer of the band's nickname is Sting, hence why these two are a pair. The other two may be obvious to those who are meme savvy, but the "Benny Hill Theme" as it's called is a song often used for humor in old internet content and even nowadays. These four are throwaway characters, but I thought it'd be fun to give them reference-y names for the hell of it. And because I'm a music nerd.

Grendel: Grendel is one of the antagonists from the classic story/poem Beowulf . It's a work I've never actually read all the way through or studied, hence why Grendel in this story is just a classic beast-like entity.

European Folklore: Stein mentions the types of creatures Trevor and Arika battled against in Germany, and says that they all come from European folklore. I myself don't know if this is true; I'm sure some do. The one that doesn't quite fit is the ursa minor, which is actually a constellation, not a monster or beast in any kind of folklore as far as I know. Constellation and folklore scholars, feel free to correct me.

I plan on putting reference notes for all of my chapters moving forward, as I have a ton of them in my old chapters (have fun finding them!) and plenty I know will show up in the future.

Here's a hint: The name Pushka should sound familiar to those who have read the manga, and those who are musically inclined should have fun with Slash when she's introduced.