We're rolling closer to the edge of a big hill, so buckle up.

In the dead of the night, Rias woke up shivering with cold.

A chill that came from within, rather than without, and her sleep-addled mind imagined for a moment that her bones had frozen while her flesh stayed warm.

An explanation presenting itself as Akeno stirred by her side, Rias pressed a hand to her chest and brought forth 'those'.

The eight Pawn pieces whose appearance differed so wildly from when she had checked them before bed.

The pieces retained their vivid crimson color, but the polished marble had been replaced by a stone that was rough and cold, and the shape of the Pawns themselves had twisted to resemble the upper bodies of gaunt, cracked bodies of otherwise featureless, faceless humanoids.

Gripping the edges of their pedestals as if they were in the process of pulling themselves free, like corpses crawling from their own graves.

The golden inlay was gone, but that knowledge soon became her sole piece of comfort.

For if one looked close at the eerie pieces of Rias held in the palm of her hand, they would see that the Pawns had their countless cracks sealed by weathered, battered iron.

As Akeno woke enough to properly appreciate the bizarre sight her King was transfixed by, Rias let out a shallow sigh, full lips settling into a wry smile.

"It seems I'll have to take more time to scold him between kisses."

Now, if only he would hurry up and return, so that she could get started on that.

Helheim was a busy, yet peaceful place.

It made a certain amount of sense when you thought about it, that the dead probably didn't have the same struggles that the living did.

Despite the fantastical nature of a city carved from the crystal of a massive cave, the place had a homely, small town sort of feel to it. Maybe because everyone knew the name of everyone else, or maybe because everyone cared somewhat for everyone else, it felt like an insular little community, just blown up in scale by a couple thousand or so.

… Even the reminder of how many children there were, among the forsaken dead, did nothing to tarnish that.

The adults around them worked hard to preserve that second chance at childhood, after all, and none the least among their reasons for doing so was their knowledge of the Goddess who ruled over them.

The Goddess who had been sealed away in the bowels of the earth, long before she'd had her own chance to be a child.

The Goddess who…

Sat on a stool with endless patience, as two of her younger subjects worked with great determination to twist her ankle-length hair into a braid, for a reason Yuuji hadn't really figured out.

Well, as long as they were having fun, right?

Yuuji turned his head back forward, looking out over the balcony.

But only for a few moments, as he felt a tug on the hem of his shirt.

Looking down, Yuuji found one of the little girls, looking up at him with big bright eyes and holding up a thin circlet made of what looked like a smoky black crystal.

Accepting the circlet with one hand, Yuuji let his other hand be taken by the kid, who led him over to the still-seated Goddess, her hands on her knees but her back straight.

Both little girls pointed, and giggled for some reason when he nodded in return.

Only when he'd placed the circlet carefully upon her head did the Goddess move.

Or rather, fidget, unable to look him in the eyes for some reason.

Giggling to each other, the little girls ran from the room, out onto the balcony, where they phased right through the bannister before soaring out into empty air, in search of a new game to play.

After watching her ghosts fly free with a hint of warmth in her golden eyes, the Goddess rose from her stool to her full and impressive height, taller than him by an inch or two even while barefoot.

"Does it suit me, my Chosen?" The Goddess asked with a teasing smile, the hem of her dress floating up a bit as she gave a graceful little twirl.

"It does, your stylists have good taste," Yuuji nodded quite seriously.

… Once again, he evaded the weight of her words.

Or rather… simply ignored them. He had yet to take umbrage with her still referring to him as her Chosen, despite how he had denied her at every turn, over the passing days.

Well, she supposed that one who had earned the favor of a Goddess had earned a bit of leeway towards his cheeky behavior?

After all, it was surely a high honor to be the first and only to be chosen by the Mistress of Helheim.

… In truth, she should have been most wroth with him.

To deny her, to refuse her should have been an unforgivable insult, especially as bluntly as he had, and yet she found she did not mind.

For she had come to understand that it was not truly her that he had denied, but rather, he had merely prioritized his existing loyalty above all else.

Such devotion was worthy of praise, even when it was an obstacle to her.

And after all, though she had no intentions of wielding such knowledge against him, in a very real sense, he was undeniably and indisputably hers already.

Half of him, that was.

And that was precisely why she had kept such knowledge from him- she was of like mind to her father, who would shamelessly use every advantage, but she was also of like mind that bringing an early end to an enjoyable game was a lamentable waste.

With a hint of a smile upon her thin lips, the Goddess of the Dead slipped up behind the Half-Devil who had returned to the balcony, draping her arms over his shoulders as she considered how she wished to tempt him on that new day.

Once again, he offered no response to her embrace, and once again, did not realize at all how much that simple inaction meant, in a land where the only true warmth to be found was his.

He'd taken to mentally referring to the 'two Helas' as Hela White and Hela Black, in reference to the way their personalities shifted with their sclera.

He had his theories on how the 'division' worked, but his blunt and too-brief summary was that Hela White was spacey, whereas Hela Black was scheming.

Both sides had their charms (read; were fun to tease), but the balance between their innocent and bold sides was less clear cut than one might expect.

Either side of her seemed surprisingly touchy for a Death Goddess, though, but Yuuji didn't really mind. The close contact seemed to make her happy, and, aside from how he really did owe her for what she'd done for the Arsenal, being able to enjoy having a hot girl draped all over him was a good way to keep reminding himself that he was alive.

He felt… different, in a way that was hard to describe. His body didn't feel weak, in fact, his condition felt better than ever, yet in seeming contradiction of that, something about his sense of self felt… tenuous.

Clinging to him always was the nagging feeling that if he closed his eyes, it might not be Kazami Yuuji that opened them.

Her touch was the only thing that kept that feeling at bay. Her touch, and the constant presence of 'them'.

"Mm, not yet," Hela White said, after she'd finished molesting him just a little.

Hela White was the less expressive side, but as someone who lived with Koneko (he was aware he counted as well, but it wasn't like he could watch his own facial expressions on a regular basis), picking up cues wasn't all that hard.

She hadn't quite found what she was feeling for with those cool hands that seemed to reach deeper than the skin, and it both concerned and relieved her.

"So what's the diagnosis, Doctor?"

"Have to stay," Hela White explained without meeting his eyes, seemingly staring at his chest as if monitoring his heart.

… Which she probably could, didn't seem like a difficult thing for a Goddess to pull off. Might just like his muscles though, wouldn't be the first.

Hela Black emerged with a blink of long lashes, and the Goddess gave a small, frustrated sigh.

"I did not wish to do this at such an early juncture, but it seems I have no choice." The Goddess grumbled.

It was a very Goddess-like thing to do, Yuuji would later reflect.

With but a brief sentence, she had set a metaphorical ball rolling down a steep hill, and nothing would ever be the same. Not just for him, but for all the countless, no longer nameless dead he'd brought to her realm with him.

"Come, my Chosen, let us go seek out the first of your number."

The first, or rather, who they referred to as First- the very first wielder of the Arsenal Memoir.

A Half-Fallen Angel with eight wings whom all the Arsenal deferred to, and held in the highest esteem.

… And the only spirit of the Arsenal Memoir to remain nameless, even in the presence of the Goddess of the Forsaken.

It was said that the roots of a truly old tree drank deeply from the waters of the underworld.

So perhaps that was why their ghosts could be found there, within Her realm.

Or perhaps it was instead that the trees themselves were forsaken in their own way- few mourned the passage of a single tree, and it was the Goddess Hela who welcomed those forsaken into her realm.

And so they found her in the place she had grown so fond of- in a sprawling grove in the heart of the buried city, rested the last nameless soul of the Arsenal Memoir.

Bloody wing-stumps brushing skeletal bark, she turned her blindfolded gaze their way with a bright smile, rising to her feet to take the hem of her tattered dress in her mismatched hands, offering a gentle curtsey.

"My Host and my Goddess, a pleasure to see you both," she greeted, every soft syllable laden with warmth and fondness.

"No need to stand on our accounts," Hela Black said as she took First's in her own, mindful of the state of the Echo's hands, but showing no repulsion at all in clasping the mutilated appendages.

It was a kindness shared by every denizen of the buried city, that both Arsenal and Host appreciated equally- there was not a soul in all of Helheim that would look down upon the scars of another.

The two women sat side by side beneath the drooping bows of the skeletal tree, and Yuuji took up position just across from them, seated in dead grass that proved softer than it must have in life.

"Have you been sleeping properly? Eating well? Getting enough exercise?" First was immediately asking. "I don't know if any of those matter here, but Yuuji, you mustn't forget that you're still alive and growing, okay? Oh but don't overdo it, your body is still healing!"

"Ah, that is why we have come to you, actually," Hela Black gently interrupted. "Yuuji's condition is taking much longer than expected to stabilize."

"Oh dear, that is a bit of a problem, isn't it?" First cupped her cheek with her good hand. "Why don't you tell me the details while you're explaining to Yuuji what you needed to do to save him?"

The white returning to her eyes, the Goddess averted her gaze- a nervous tic of hers in that she switched to her less expressive side when flustered.

"Complicated."

"Is it, or are you just worried about Yuuji being angry with you? For no reason, I might add- Yuuji is a prickly boy but he's actually very kind," the dead spirit lectured the Goddess.

"Guh."

"There's one too many things to unpack there," Yuuji said drily. "Not sure why you expect me to complain, but even I don't have a personality bad enough to criticize the method you chose to save my life."

First nodded readily as Hela shuffled awkwardly.

"I have told you that I wish for you to be mine," Hela Black said softly, without looking their way. "And I am aware I am owed recompense… but this and that are separate things, and I wish to avoid them becoming conflated."

It was a simple wish, dear to her half-beating heart, one that went against her position as a Goddess, yet was explained by that very same nature.

A simple wish that paradoxically hampered her goals.

"... Wait, that's it?"

"... Pardon me? What do you mean, 'is that it'?" Irritation bubbling within her breast, the Goddess glared at the Devil, while… The Fallen covered her mouth with one hand, and tried not to giggle as she realized what was coming.

"It was never you I was rejecting, I like you just fine."

An endless cavern shuddered in time with the mistress of that entire realm.

She had understood that he was not truly rejecting her, it was simply that he had other loyalties he could not betray.

… Or rather, she had thought she had understood.

And she had been wrong.

Alas, for the Goddess who remained a young maiden in many ways, averting her gaze once again was a futile gesture.

For all that she remained a living bridge between life and death, blood still flowed in her veins.

And her cheeks were far, far too pale to conceal even the slightest hint of a blush.

Pride in her Host welled up within her breast as First savored the cute stretch of silence. She was all but certain that he did not understand the weight of the kindness he was showing the mistress of the buried city.

Who in their right mind would treat a Death Goddess as a normal girl?

… Their Host would, just as he treated all the nameless dead within his mind and soul as people just like him, in that brusque and awkward way of his.

With such blissful thoughts occupying her ancient mind, the beauty with ruined wings sat in silence, savoring the presence of the miracles at her side.

Wholly unaware that the miracles had only just begun.

The first Host of the Arsenal Memoir, and the one she hoped would be the last.

First… and last?

Those words could describe the Arsenal itself, in a way, couldn't they?

… They could?

The gaze of a Goddess had a certain weight to it, and she felt as if her heart had suddenly ceased to beat, even though it had been a long time since it had beat at all.

"First… and last?" Hela repeated, slowly.

… Truthfully, she wasn't aware she'd spoken aloud, and perhaps she hadn't, as Yuuji seemed somewhat puzzled. But a Goddess would always hear more than was spoken.

"... That is what we are," First began, tenuously. "The Arsenal is… the first and the last. I cannot tell you what that applies to, only that I am undeniably certain those words are true." Connected even now, countless Echoes and Shouts nodded thoughtfully along with her, sharing both the ignorance and the certainty.

Curse that unreliable memory of hers, it was unfair that it plagued her so even when her killers hadn't damaged her brain at all.

The Goddess was still, for a very long while, and neither she nor Yuuji made the slightest move to catch her attention.

Without warning, her gaze fell upon Yuuji as she dropped a fist into her hand.

"Ah, so that is why your Sacred Gear was never finished."

… For but a brief moment, the entire Arsenal Memoir, teeming with half-formed ghosts, was completely, and utterly still.

Hela White, feeling the weight of countless gazes both near and far, tilted her head to one side in an innocent display of confusion.

Being stared at by silent hordes of the warrior dead would be an unsettling experience for those in the vast majority of known worlds, be they supernatural or not.

For the Goddess Hela, it was a happy reminder that the cute new children in her realm were good listeners.

Adding to the incongruity of the scene was how the Goddess had managed to convince Yuuji to give her a lap pillow, the Half-Devil stroking her red and blue hair as if it were simply a matter of course.

Few among the living were willing to pamper her, and so she intended to indulge while she could, 'dignity of a Goddess' be damned.

"To my eyes, your Sacred Gear is incomplete, perhaps more than half-finished, but only just," the Goddess began. "But you all seem to agree that the phrase 'the first and the last' bears weight, do you not?"

Countless nods in unison, how adorable.

The spurts of blood from torn veins and crackling of bones long broken only added to the appeal, in her opinion.

"I have sought the knowledge of those Sacred Gear bearers already within my realm, and they tell me that the Sacred Gears were crafted by Yahweh in order to be a weapon for humans against the supernatural. Is it not strange then, that your home after death is a place of such torment? That a weapon meant to protect humans instead steals from them?"

No answer was truly necessary, for the bitter nature of the Arsenal Memoir was a wound that remained ever open. There were no such things as 'old wounds' to those who always suffered.

"If the believed purpose of Sacred Gears was, in fact, the true intention of their maker, then I believe the cruel nature of the Arsenal Memoir is born of its incomplete nature. Thus, the 'first' Sacred Gear to enter the world unfinished, and thus, perhaps… the 'last' Sacred Gear to be made."

"God', that is… Yahweh, is dead," Yuuji corrected himself due to present company, while idly noting the absence of the usual headache, "but the Angels speak of a 'System' that runs Heaven, which was thrown out of order by his death."

Not minding that all eyes were on him, Yuuji pondered for a moment.

"So then, if Hela's guess is correct, maybe the Arsenal Memoir was never released on purpose… an 'incomplete program', of sorts."

There was no way of knowing for sure, but the theory made sense and they hated it, every last one of the Arsenal Spirits.

Their Host was no exception, and the depths of his anger surprised him.

But only for a moment.

Without even realizing it, he'd truly come to view them all as his 'comrades', and in no way could he look favorably upon the source of their suffering, even if…

"... It really was just an accident, wasn't it?" One of them, or perhaps many of them, sighed bitterly.

They were broken from the start, and there was no one to blame.

"... So cute even when silly," Hela White murmured suddenly, eyes shifting to and fro as if to take in everyone at once.

"Sad accident then, happy accident now," the Goddess insisted into the silence that followed. "Brought you to me."

It was a fact about the Goddess known as Hela that never made it into the stories.

… In all the realms, none were better suited than she to soothing the restless spirits of the dead.

"Perhaps your Gear will not be so Sacred when I am done," Hela Black began, sitting up with a wry smirk. "But if you allow me, I shall see it rendered whole."

There was only one answer to give, and only one voice to give it with.

Once they were more or less alone, Yuuji, with uncharacteristic politeness, had brought up a glaring potential issue in Hela's plan to complete the Arsenal Memoir.

Time.

There was only so long he could keep those back home waiting for him, but-

"To the world of the living, it will take a single night."

"And to the world of the dead?"

"Ah, my lovely Chosen, didn't you know? Time is the first thing lost to the dead." Hrla Black stroked his cheek as she smiled.

"Of course, to take full advantage you would have to be dead, but now that you've found your footing in either realm, the consequences will pass you by."

It was another reason she coveted him so dearly, as she herself had been born with 'footing in either realm'.

"This the part where you tell me what 'being rebuilt' meant for me?" It was, as she had been spending a good deal of time sounding out his personality to determine whether he would be angry with her, and what she might do about it.

"Indeed, my Chosen," Hela Black pushed on, past the strange tremor in her cold heart. "My usage of the term was rather literal. The holy power that seeped through your veins was quite potent, you see. While it surely destroys Devils, the particulars of how that destruction manifests is as something akin to 'erasure'."

That had been the state she had found her intended in.

"Half of your body, half of Kazami Yuuji, simply did not exist when I ascended upon you." The Goddess slowly revealed, watching him carefully. "Even that 'Twilight Healing' I glimpsed in your memories would have served no use in alleviating your condition as your wounded state had become the norm."

Even putting aside his corpse-metal arm that resisted the Light, Yuuji's 'reality' no longer contained an intact and functional body. In a sense, being barely alive had become his normal state of being.

"So then you 'rebuilt' me instead of healing me?"

"Indeed, with the help of the gentle dead who haunt your soul. From their memories of your warmth, and your strength, and the beating of your heart I cast a new mold, bringing the Yuuji of the past to replace what Yuuji had vanished from the present. It is not so different from the way my subjects appear in death as they did in life." But that was a method for the dead. If just a little bit more of him had remained alive, or what remained of him had not had such a strong affinity for death, it would not have worked.

"In truth, Yuuji," the Goddess gravely confessed. "In truth, it should not have worked. In truth, you should exist now as a being half dead and half alive," like the being she was believed to be. "But you are sorely loved by the dead, and they wished so dearly for you to remain living."

Of their own accord, her cold hands found their way to his cheeks, and the Goddess whose touch would be scorned by most took quiet joy in the way by how the gesture was not met with even the barest of shivers.

"And thus, while half of you remains fully a Devil," enough for the other claim upon his being to retain precedence, "half of you is something else… not a Draugr as expected, no, the breath in your lungs precludes that," strong lungs because she had made them herself…

… Rather, he was half… w-well… she had always wondered what it would be like to have one of her own…

"Look, even if my hearing is pretty good, you have to actually make noises for me to hear them."

"... Einherjar!" The Goddess of the Forsaken Dead quietly blurted out, one side of her mind racing to determine why her always cold cheeks seemed to be burning.

"... Einherjar, that is your 'other half'," Hela Black clarified, more quietly.

"... So I guess they're not just limited to Valhalla, then?" According to myth, Einherjar were the chosen dead that resided in Valhalla, but it was no surprise that the real version didn't quite line up.

"Even Skadi has her own," the Goddess murmured with a hint of a smile. "Valkyries are similarly spread out through the Nine." She didn't have any Valkyries either, but what of it?

… The significance could not be repeated enough, of how, half or not, Yuuji was not just any Einherjar, but the one and only among her Einherjar.

Belatedly, it dawned upon her, and when the thought made the Goddess smile, it was a smile that half-belonged to a Goddess, and half-belonged to something else.

While undeniably being all woman.

… Her Chosen was something that had never before existed, and perhaps never would again.

He, too, was both the first and the last.

Akeno's eyes snapped open at the same time her libido spiked, the unquestionably sexy sound still seeping through her senses.

Turning her head to one side, she pondered whether she should take offense to Rias having a wet dream, when there was someone sharing the bed with her who was more than happy to make Rias wet while she was still awake.

Akeno watched Rias writhe seductively on the bed for a few more long seconds before forgiving her, on account of the impromptu show her King was putting on.

A particularly passionate shudder rocked those bare curves, and Rias awoke abruptly, her expression a potent blend of bewildered and horny, guaranteed to awaken the sadist in any lover.

"Ara ara, don't stop on my account~" Akeno tittered as Rias glanced her way, likely by accident.

… Neither herself nor Yuuji had inner sadists that required a lot of awakening… or were all that 'inner' to begin with, for that matter.

"A-Akeno~!? I-I- w-w-what is~!?" Rias moaned again, husky and low, as a sudden tremor made her breasts bounce audibly.

"So… not a wet dream?" Akeno guessed with an eyebrow raised.

"N-no!? It feels like… kya~! Like I'm being… ahn~ massaged! From the inside out~!"

"... I'm not sure if that's supposed to feel good, but I'm the last person to be judging kinks."

"T-they're really, really good with their hands~!"

"... Yuuji-level good?"

That actually managed to bring Rias to a halt for a moment, brief as it was.

And then, still writhing and moaning sexily, Rias began to float straight up into the air without seeming to notice.

Akeno slowly blinked several times in succession, and then rubbed her eyes.

Her King was still naked and levitating in a kinky way.

Aware that any ghost strong enough to possess a Pure Blood Devil would be impossible to miss, Akeno concluded that the wet dream was actually hers, and settled back to enjoy the show while considering methods to recreate it while awake.

She was getting pretty good at using electrical stimuli, so…

Unaware of the sexy schemes of her Queen, Rias moaned as eight little things deep inside her became something more.

It played out like a fever dream that felt so very real.

Two bodies entangled, two voices overlapping so tightly he couldn't tell if it was his thoughts or her words.

"Yes, just like that… open yourself up to me, and I shall give myself to you."

A bed with a canopy bleached white bone.

"You must feel this, and I need to feel you."

Funeral shroud curtains.

"Take what is freely given."

Burial cloth sheets.

"Let the emptiness be filled, be it mine or yours."

A mattress stuffed with crow feathers and moth wings.

"One miracle for another."

And not a stitch to cover the body of either.

"Nothing forgotten, nothing left behind, nothing- where are you touching~!?"

A startled moan.

"W-well I suppose I do not mind if you wish to take the lead, or should I say, as expected of my Chosen?"

Pale white flesh shivering beneath calloused hands.

"B-brute! Fool!"

"... Want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare!"

Gasps and sighs giving way to a scream that shook everything, as something was lost and everything was gained.

Like a dam breaking on a moonless night, with a great rushing and roaring, that which was lost poured free from the dark.

Something which had never been whole became more than it was ever meant to be.

… Akeno was trying to decide whether or not to panic as the thrashing of her King reached an erotic crescendo.

As that slim white back arched up into the open air, thin pillars of crimson light emerged from Rias' shuddering bosom, from which rose eight misshapen pieces of carved crimson stones.

"... The Pawns?"

No, could she even call those Pawns anymore? Also, what the hell was he doing this time?

… Like a sun inverted, the pieces sapped heat and light from their surroundings until both words lost their meaning, yet she couldn't say the sensations were uncomfortable in the least.

Even as Akeno witnessed her own end in startling detail, at least until the visions granted her a glimpse into the end of someone else.

… A headstone of rough crimson rock, a name inlaid with battered iron that she couldn't make out no matter how she squinted, despite knowing in her heart what those two words would read out to be.

As Akeno was being made to understand what the new pieces were composed of, the Pieces sank back into Rias' chest, and her King's trembling, sweaty body floated gently back down onto the bed.

And yet, despite the representations of her absent lover being carved from his future tombstone, Akeno was not worried at all.

Deep in her heart, she was convinced that she had borne witness to a new beginning of sorts.

And in spite of how she wasn't feeling worried at all, that changed immediately when Rias immediately sat bolt upright, mirroring Akeno after the cold shock they had both just felt, racing up their spines like an ice cube sliding upwards.

The dormitory wards, alerting its tenants of an imminent attack, and a presence ejecting itself rapidly from a bedroom on their floor as Grayfia took the vanguard.

Instantly, the two were out of bed, naked bodies clad in their reinforced uniforms seemingly by reflex as they burst from the bedroom and soared down the hall. Akeno took point as Rias projected an arcane rallying cry to the entire dorm, Xenovia and Irina already at their heels.

Normally, Rias would feel immense pride at how quickly her peerage hit the ground running, except that she'd made it down the common room to see what Akeno was seeing, through the glass doors, and down the road.

It couldn't be helped that not a single one of her rapid predictions had included a firing line with the dormitory set in its sights, not when the 'troops' in question were Dragons.

… And the way a muffled roar from high above was cut short suggested that Grayfia had already been tied up.

It took her a fraction of a second to conclude that the dormitory defenses weren't going to hold, and a fraction more to accept that she couldn't summon the Garden in time.

They reached the half second mark as the swirling flames in open jaws reached their highest intensity, and a silver blur smashed through the front doors on her way out.

"R-Rossweisse!? Wait, don't-!"

Feet planted wide, back ramrod straight, silver hair whipping in the burning wind as the slender body of the Valkyrie became the sole barrier between the dormitory, and the tidal wave of flame set to sweep it all away.

And for a moment, dragonfire was all but forgotten as daybreak arrived hours early.

… Heralded by the dawning of a silver sun in the dead of night.

"SVALINN, RISE!"

Even as the brilliant silver light pierced her vision, Rias didn't lose sight of her Valkyrie for even a second.

"Artificial Dragons instead of car bombs? Terrorism is evolving in strange ways."

"Failed products. Disposable."

"Oh, it's a 'you still have to take us seriously' kind of moment." It sounded like the barking of a beaten dog when he put it that way, but terrorism thrived upon infamy.

'You're not a real terrorist if no one knows your name' was a phrase they often used back at the office, even if it was sometimes applied to organizations instead of individuals.

"Strange? Casualties, where?"

"Yeah, not getting any reports either... well, let's hope that's good news, oh, Lamb says JB is in the shelter already, so that's a load off."

"... Indeed. Now, it is a bit early for you to depart my realm, but I suppose it can't be helped. Well, I wished to gain the head wife's approval anyways, so perhaps it is for the… best?"

"... Recognize the big guys?"

"Black scale duo are Nidhoggr, the tree-like one is Ladon, while the largest is Apophis… their clones, at least. The Khaos Brigade is showing their true fangs if they're sending Evil Dragon puppets to multiple locations."

It was one hell of an opener, especially if the ones being thrown out were 'failed products'.

"... But we have tarried long enough. The Nidhoggr will be met Dragon for Dragon, and thus, Ladon is your target." The Dragon left unmentioned had been met with a maid, and the Goddess had her suspicions that it had drawn the shortest straw.

"Kazami Yuuji, heading out."

Such a simple phrase, and yet it sent her cold heart racing ever so fiercely.

At last, at long last…

She had found a way to make Qlippoth bleed for what they had done to her family.

As the flames and silver faded, Rias watched Rossweisse lean heavily against her shield, relieved to note that manageable fatigue was all that had struck her Rook as she took a good look at Rossweisse's trump card.

The thick, tear-dropped shaped body of the shield was made entirely of a gleaming, silvery metal, and was tall and broad enough to completely shelter and conceal its wielder's body. The point faced downwards, and was currently sunk cleanly into concrete for added stability. With the shield boss as its center, a silver sun spread out its gleaming rays, serving as deceptively sharp blades to jut out from the upper sides of a shield that was light as it needed to be, for one person, and one person only.

Untarnished by the fire of nine dragons, Svalinn had lost none of its luster, as befitting the Divine Shield that had chosen Rossweisse above all else…

As befitting a Silver Sun crafted from the same metal as Mjolnir itself.

If they had been caught unawares, their home would have been reduced to ash, and likely all or most of them dead, and yet… Not so much as a single spark had made it past her brave shield maiden, and thus, in the brief lull that followed, Rias couldn't help but ask a question that, in her mind, no longer needed an answer.

"Feeling worthy of that shield yet, my brave Valkyrie?"

Above the skies of Kuoh, winter had arrived early to bear its frozen fangs at a monstrous three-eyed serpent over seventy meters in length.

A mockery made from a mockery of a Dragon, a twisted imitation of the Evil Dragon Apophis.

Lustrous black scales gleamed with embedded gemstones as it coiled and thrashed through the sky.

… Its thrashing intensified when Grayfia kicked another of those silvery gems out of its body, leaving an angry gouge in brackish purple flesh that promptly froze shut.

The Dragons had merely slithered out of a low mist, appearing in the center of one of the best defended cities in Japan with no warning. Grayfia had been confident that the others could perhaps mount a defense if given time, but in truth, there had been none.

What was presumably a pincer maneuver had been sprung early by the Apophis imitation, and Grayfia would have died to no avail, searing acid stripping the flesh from her bones had she been but a fraction of a second slower.

Fortunately she had just barely given them the time needed to rally… or rather, for Rossweisse to unleash her Divine Relic and single-handedly shut out the second assault.

Galvanized by Svalinn's shine, the other residents of the dormitory were methodically tearing the gathering of lesser drakes to shreds, and speaking of 'tearing to shreds'...

A dozen or so blocks away, a sleek blue Dragon was roaring her fury as she pinned a larger, more serpentine form upon the rooftop of her 'lair', flying blood and scale visible even from a distance as the Khaos Karma Dragon savaged the clone (?) of the Abyss Rage Dragon.

Which left two of the Evil Dragon clones uncontested- she had some semblance of awareness as to what Uriel had gotten up to, but wherever had the crow flown off to?

… With luck, he'd caught the trail of Dimension Lost- if she had picked up on the most likely culprit of the sudden invasion, the foremost expert on Sacred Gears most certainly had.

Dismissing further musings as untimely, Grayfia gathered her power, hastening to finish off her foe before the worst happened-

And then the worst happened.

Perhaps they had caught the scent of their brethren's blood upon the wind, but the second Nidhoggr clone and the solitary Ladon clone, who had been rampaging through downtown unchecked, turned as one and made a beeline for the dormitory, crushing everything in their path.

Ruthlessly snuffing out that spark of panic, Grayfia resolved herself to surrender a limb or two to her current dance partner in favor of preventing those below from being overwhelmed.

… It started slowly at first.

A rumble like an earthquake, growing steadily in volume until it drowned out the sounds of a city in flames where Dragons ran amuck.

It was as if the earth itself was roaring its outrage, yet when that emerged, the ground in its way rippled rather than ruptured, as if it were topped by water and not asphalt.

The second Nidhoggr clone was launched, no… carried high into the air, as if being banished to the heavens by an earth that refused it.

Borne upwards in the jaws of a serpentine Dragon that had restricted himself to a form almost a half-mile long.

The largest Dragon to have ever existed, a 'World Serpent' dwarfing even Great Red in size.

The Dragon King of the Norse, Jormungandr.

And yet… the reason Grayfia had nearly forgotten how to fly had little to do with the newly arrived behemoth, nor the foe she was battling at the eye level of said behemoth.

No, it had to do with the far greater absurdity that, somehow, wasn't as surprising as it should be.

It was the man with the gun who had nearly made her fall out of the sky. Not because he'd fired at, or even looked at her, no, his gun was aimed downwards, his body roughly perpendicular to the ground.

It was the fact that the sniper was lying backwards and prone upon Jormungandr's head that had stolen all of Grayfia's attention.

A gunshot she couldn't make out the sound of, and a flash of verdant green sailing a distance she wouldn't even bother to measure.

Almost as if by coincidence, the charge of the Ladon clone became something more akin to a jog, and then a stumble, as its brain belatedly processed that the lowly thorn that had pierced it had brought an end to the brain's vessel.

As Jormungandr bit the Nidhoggr clone in two, the Ladon clone sank to the earth, never to rise again.

Acting as one, two women took that as their cue.

A maid clenched her fist, and the hoarfrost seeping into her opponent's veins abruptly turned into thorns, in time with a Dragon Queen biting through the neck of her own thrashing foe.

As the World Serpent gazed over the city with Dragon dripping from his jaws, the dark figure standing on his head waved her way in silent salute, before quietly launching himself airborne, drifting down to the city upon wings of mismatched iron.

|""Are you certain hanging back is the right call, Sister?"|

|"Mhm. Was told 'a good woman knows when to wait'. Shouldn't interfere with the reunion."| Hela whispered through the portal she was hiding between her elder brother's horns.

She had sought out every scrap of wisdom possessed by her cute subjects with 'experience' had to offer, all in an effort to appeal to her Chosen as much as possible.

Her Chosen had seen through it all, but gave her points for effort regardless.

… Perhaps her biggest stroke of luck was to inherit the blood of one of the few pragmatic Gods in existence. Other Gods would never have deigned to seek the advice of their believers, but her father had taught her to always use what could be used.

There had been obstacles in the way of Yuuji becoming hers, obstacles that couldn't be destroyed lest her Chosen reject her for eternity.

But there had been no obstacles in the way of her becoming his.

The daughter of a trickster had chosen the incomprehensible without a second thought, and nothing would ever be the same for her again.

Annoying.

Inconsiderate.

Wretched, disgusting, putrid fucking worm!

Fully aware that it was a tactical failure in an uncertain situation, Akeno poured an excessive amount of power into letting the wild lightning roar in lieu of her own voice, practically searing clean the inside of the last hindrance's skull.

Taking a large step back to clear herself of death throe range, Akeno's gaze cast wildly about, emotions running rampant, even though she'd kept a level head when she'd discovered her city up in flames.

He's here he's here where is he he's here-!

That tree-like behemoth, that matched to a T the description of the Evil Dragon Ladon, had gently come to a halt, dropping dead at the end of the block.

Straining eyes of a Queen had just barely been able to make out the small puncture between its dull eyes.

Ladon had been slain with a single strike, no… a single bullet.

She knew of exactly one person who could snipe an Evil Dragon with a gun, and where was he!?

It was a tactical failure on her part, letting someone get arm's length without noticing.

A mistake that could have been fatal… to the underwear she was wearing, because she'd missed him that much, and kissing him felt so good, that she would have screamed for joy had her lips not been sealed.

The moment the kiss broke, she slapped him hard, and tasted his blood when she kissed him again.

She slapped him again after the second kiss, but after the third kiss, he caught her hand and pressed his red cheek against it, smiling gently.

"I'm home, Akeno."

… And just like that, her world made sense once more.

Yelling to be heard over her overflowing love and delight was a strained inner voice reminding her to maintain her dignity as his King.

Then her wayward Pawn kneeled and bowed to her, and the solemn air that followed saved her pride from being cast aside.

… But only just.

"Kazami Yuuji, reporting for duty."

A dark, shapeless mantle covered her Pawn's kneeling form, obscuring all but his bent knee and the battered metal fist he'd placed against the scorched concrete.

Its hem seemingly melding in with the long shadow he cast behind him, a shadow that to her gave the impression of a great gate open wide.

But no longer did it seem as if a great multitude was concealed within that darkness, no, something about that darkness was far, far too unified for that to hold true any longer.

Kneeling before Rias Gremory was an army of one.

"You have kept me waiting, my Servant," his King answered with the gravitas befitting her station. "Have you achieved what you set out to achieve?"

"Seekvaira Agares and her peerage have been avenged, and…" Yuuji looked up at her for the first time, with a lopsided smile that looked as if it hadn't quite figured out how to fit on his face.

"... So have I, Rias, so have I."

Rias was confident she'd used up tomorrow's share of poise by restricting herself to nothing more than a slight smile.

Without leaning at all, she offered her hand to her Pawn, giving him silent permission to rise.

She didn't bother at all with attempting to force back down the little thrill in her breast as Yuuji's flesh and blood hand clasped her own, though she took immediate note of how his hand was just a little colder than it should be.

The moment they were eye to eye, she ceased to be his King and transitioned entirely into the woman who loved him, marked by clasping his cheeks with both hands for a long and tender kiss, giving her love and anxieties voice where words failed her.

… His arms around her waist just felt so very right, and for a moment, she let herself stop thinking, in favor of just feeling.

He had kept his promise and returned.

Her family was whole once more.

And… no… wait just a moment.

Rias placed her hands on Yuuji's chest and pushed him to arms length.

"Yuuji, I could have sworn you came down from the sky."

"I did."

"... From the direction of the gigantic Dragon King who swam up out of the ground."

"You mean my ride?"

"... We'll get back to that in a moment." Rias reigned herself in with visible effort. "As you can see, we're in a bit of an emergency situation, so, as much as I'd like to spend more time on this, you'll have to rush the reunion a little and help the others look for survivors-"

"Is this the part where I tell you that most of our neighborhood is in the basement with JB?"

"... Most of them?"

"We're working on the rest."

"... We? No, that doesn't matter for the moment, if they're all down there then I'll send Rossweisse down to help Yuria calm them-"

A glint of metal caught her eye, interrupting her train of thought.

The thin figure approaching as if to pass was vaguely feminine and consisting entirely of sleek, sharp metal with a nostalgically weathered sheen.

Said figure was carefully and gently carrying past the slumbering figure of the lady with the nice garden from four houses down, and clearly making her way to the dorm.

As 'she' passed, the faceless metallic figure turned her head and gave Rias a polite nod as their 'gazes' met, giving a better view of her curving metal ram horns and pointed metal ears.

Belatedly, Rias came aware of dully glinting figures scattered all about, silently and methodically evacuating homes of their neighbors, each rescue slumbering peacefully without exception.

… That included the pets.

But looking around like that naturally brought her gaze a certain way, and then she just couldn't ignore it any longer.

Rias liked to think that she'd kept pace with her Pawn's nonchalant absurdities rather well, all told, but the Goddess of Helheim had been right there for a while, and was being disconcertingly patient and unobtrusive about it.

Poor Rossweisse, as the only other Norse present, seemed the most flustered and confused out of everyone.

Yuuji, who had been quietly engulfed by hugging women at some point or another, belatedly turned his head (Raynare helpfully ducked her own to clear his view) to find Hela White looking at him with wide eyes, and ever so slightly red cheeks, clearly not prepared to have been outed.

"Oh, that's probably because she saved my life, fixed my Sacred Gear, and wants to offer me a job and her virginity."

"..."

"Too brief, Rias?

"...Too brief, Yuuji. Too brief."

"It's been a while since I've seen you up above the waves, you're rather far from your usual currents, no?" A pale, blue-haired beauty said as she sat on the edge of the huge condominium that made up her residence, feet dangling over a six-story drop without a care.

The man standing somewhat back and off to the side was a towering Scandinavian man with long, tousled brown hair, sharply dressed, but his imposing edge somewhat softened by his lazy posture, golden serpentine eyes drooping as if fighting to stay open.

"Didn't expect to see you in Japan either, but I'm less curious about that and more curious about how someone is cloning our least-liked brethren."

"I can agree to that, Jormungandr, did you notice anything off about the taste?" They'd both bitten rather deeply of the Nidhoggr clones, after all.

But, unlike Tiamat, Jormungandr had bitten the real Nidhoggr on more than one occasion in times past.

"Tastes like topsoil instead of bedrock- all the right pieces but no history to season the meat."

"A recent creation, then?" Tiamat quirked an eyebrow.

Jormungandr nodded, though he still wasn't looking her way.

Instead, his gaze was trained off in the direction of the divine presence, but Tiamat took no offense at not having his full attention, not in the least due to how her attention was divided in similar fashion.

Her intended mate was there too, after all…

"I take it you intend to be involved in the coming war, then?" Tiamat asked casually.

"Mm. Has the wyrm's stink all over it, so I have a hunch that if I stick around for long enough, I'll finally have another shot at sinking my teeth into the real Nidhoggr's throat."

"Two of Loki's children are getting involved then, hm? The poor Aesir are going to be rather flustered about that, aren't they?" She'd noted that that wasn't the whole reason, but cared little for it, doubtful that his other purposes might be at odds with her own.

Dragons took friendship rather seriously, after all.

Jormungandr's lazy expression shifted into a brief smirk, mirrored by his counterpart as they gazed out over the city.

"Oh, come to think of it, I should give Sister a hand." Jormungandr said suddenly, straightening as if all his fatigue had been a lie.

Tiamat let her own slight smile widen- training her senses into the distance with ease, aware that only the finest of entertainment would abound when the Midgard Serpent was feeling mischievous.

It was important to be dignified, and not surrender the upper hand.

She was a Goddess after all, even if she was the one making the request, she couldn't let the Devils look down on her.

… The place they'd gathered in was called a 'common room' and was kind of scary for some reason.

"And what is it that you desire from my servant, Lady Hela?"

"Sex."

… That wasn't what she meant to lead with, but it wasn't as if it was an untrue statement- her 'other side' always cut to the heart of the matter.

"... I see?" Did she? She had heard that Devils had always been an adaptable race, she supposed.

"And I-"

Hela froze, head cocked to one side as if listening intently, but her body completely and utterly motionless as she did.

"... Request." Her Elder Brother was so smart.

"You wish to put in… a request?" Rias repeated, slowly.

"Mm."

"I am listening?"

"My first request is for Kazami Yuuji to serve as my Herald, a vessel to aid in dispelling the regrets of the countless overlooked casualties, those that spring from the machinations of supernatural entities that meddle in the mortal realms," Hela Black stated formally. "I suppose you could also say that I wish to be his patron, as he works to fulfill the original purpose of the Arsenal Memoir."

"The Arsenal Memoir?" Rias tried not to come across as desperate, she really did, but the Goddess knew something about one of her greatest concerns, and-

"There is no need to fear, Rias Gremory," flaunting her expectations, the Goddess of the Dead showed a soft smile. "The Arsenal Memoir is the destined doom of Kazami Yuuji no longer. I have seen to it."

"... And what, precisely, do you mean by that?"

"I mean that it is no longer entirely a Sacred Gear, among other things," the Goddess shrugged. It would be important before long that the Arsenal Memoir's nature had changed so fundamentally. "It is now…"

Rias wasn't the only one who leaned in as the Goddess trailed off dramatically.

… Or rather, just went silent.

She wasn't the only one to notice that those golden eyes had abruptly become hemmed with white instead of black, but they didn't notice a change until the Goddess spoke up, her rich voice suddenly toneless and quiet.

"... Something else?"

"... Pardon?"

"Forgot to name." The Goddess woodenly averted her gaze.

"... I see." Rias decided to pretend the last several sentences had never been uttered, and proceeded accordingly. "I'll have an explanation as to why you were altering my servant's soul without my knowledge, then." A debt was owed, but if the debt was owed to the divine or the demonic hedged entirely upon the motives of the divine.

"Emergency? Like Yuuji better alive? Is warm." Ah, so she did owe the Goddess, quite a bit at that-

Suddenly, every eye in the room was trained upon Yuuji, though Hela was just imitating everyone else.

"... How many more times are you going to go off and get yourself hurt, somewhere out of reach?" JB asked softly.

"Never, if my luck holds."

"... O-oh? That's fine then, I suppose." And she meant it, too. Her response may have sounded flippant, even with the visible heat in her cheeks, but that was just because JB had immediately picked up on how Yuuji was being sincere.

Yuuji's rare voicing of his own wishes was enough for the tense atmosphere in the room to soften.

Rias felt like there were more questions than answers still at that point, but just then, Grayfia, who had been scanning the entirety of the city from the rooftop, ported into the room.

"The disproportionate response has reduced the damage to a level more befitting a mundane riot than an assault by almost two score Dragons, Ojou-sama." Grayfia reported after gaining the King's attention. "Our local Seraph wishes to convey that his 'miracle-making was on point', and it would seem that a combination of his efforts and the Arsenal Spirits has reduced the human casualties to a handful. Sitri-sama and her peerage are currently aiding the faculty in fielding the Kuoh Academy gymnasium as an emergency shelter."

"Any word from the higher-ups?"

"Azazel is already taking care of the 'information flow', but before that, I believe we have a more pressing concern, Ojou-sama?"

Grayfia was partially turned away, gazing past the common room and into the communal kitchen.

To the stranger who was busily raiding the refrigerator.

As if sensing the gazes, the handsome and androgynous man rose and turned, sharp blue eyes innocently wide, and a half a piece of cooked bacon between two slender fingers.

He was tall, and pale in a way humans generally weren't- his skin and his chin-length hair both white like ash. Above his pointed ears were a pair of thin, mismatched black horns, and he was wearing a stylish, white-pinstriped suit with black lapels and a collar of coarse black fur.

Unmindful of the many gazes directed his way, the strange man with no presence finished the piece of bacon, and then another.

"Hello, Papa," Hela White greeted with a quiet wave that was returned by the horned man.

"P-Papa!?" Rossweisse choked, going pale. "Lord Loki?"

"Oh good, we can skip the introductions," the newly revealed Loki grinned. "Great, because I don't have any time to waste, need to skedaddle before my absence is noticed."

"Then by all means, dear guest, feel free to inform us of the reason for your visit." It was Grayfia who spoke up with a polite bow, playing the proper hostess even as she surreptitiously put herself between the God and the rest of the room.

"I'm here to make a deal, obviously," the Trickster shrugged.

"With whom, might I ask?"

"My daughter's Einherjar, of course," Yuuji made no reaction as, for some reason, he became the center of attention yet again.

… He was pretty sure it wasn't his fault this time, though he was kind of curious why Hela looked smug, as if she'd just been complimented?

… Those gazes from the others were kind of heavy, huh?

"I'm listening."

"Simple trade, Yuuji-boy," the God opened his arms as wide as the irreverent smile on his face.

"Help me free my son, and we can cut off your scaly new problem at the source," the God explained. "My boy has nothing to do with that, of course, buuut I figure we can spring your sister free at the same time, which will take away the means of mass-producing Evil Dragons."

There was total, utter silence, and within that total, utter silence, Loki, with his hands raised in a gesture of surrender, suddenly had his head pinned between the wall and a large handgun, streaked with verdant green.

"Oops, touched your reverse scale, huh?" Killing intent that even a God couldn't ignore had many implications, but one stood out from the rest.

"Hela, daughter dearest?" Loki called out, his tone mild and his eyes not leaving the barrel of the gun.

"... Yes, Father?" Hela Black answered hesitantly, features even more pale than normal as her gaze darted between the two men, and her hands waved fretfully in the air.

"Daddy approves of your taste in boys."

We're dropping bombs, and dragons, and gods, and raise your hand if you thought I'd forgotten about Kazuki.

The pieces are all in place for the Evil Dragon War to start, and if you know anything about how that came to pass, you might understand why a supernatural terrorist organization picked up Yuuji's sister.

But first, we'll have some other important details to get into, like Yuuji's Sacred Gear, and what its finished and intact nature is supposed to represent.

After all, a few of you have noticed, but an identity-stealing soul cage doesn't really seem like much of a gift from God, does it?

There's a few more bits to handle (not all as revelatory), so we'll have something of a mini-arc before we get into the last major arc of the story, and things get wild once more.

PS: you may have noticed, but I'm not using the throwaway villain-of-the-week Loki from DxD, because he's lame and a waste of such an interesting figure. Instead, we'll be using a mixture of my own ideas and other interpretations l like more, such as the Loki from the Magika Kenshi series (which is where I draw his appearance from).