/ "Dialogue." /

/ 'Internal Thoughts.' /

/ "Flashback Dialogue" /

The Underworld

It was not a realm reserved solely for devils but a vast, sprawling dimension with multiple factions and layers. Each territory, though inconsistent in its geography, held its own distinct identity. It was immense, larger than the human world—if one excluded the oceans—but here, vast lakes and jagged mountain ranges took the place of the sea.

On the Fallen Angel continents, the atmosphere was markedly quieter compared to the devil territories. Though the land itself was available, the population was starkly imbalanced—far sparser than that of their counterparts. Both realms had their share of urbanized cities, but while the devils spread across not only bustling metropolitan hubs but also vast rural landscapes, the fallen angels were confined strictly to their urban centers.

They were a unique race, yet lacked a growing population. They could only expand in three ways. Through the natural reproduction of pure-blooded Fallen Angels, by receiving souls cast down from Heaven, or through the creation of mixed-race offspring, typically born from unions with humans.

There was no peerage system, and the technology was not yet advanced enough to even come close.

At the heart of this desolate yet imposing landscape stood a towering structure, its shadow dominating the largest city the Fallen Angels possessed. This was the headquarters of the Grigori, the ruling faction of those cast down from Heaven, tasked with maintaining what little order remained among their kind. The structure loomed like a somber monument to their history, where ambition, betrayal, and power had shaped them.

In the grand assembly hall, the highest-ranking members of the faction convened. Veterans and intellects of countless wars and battles, these individuals had once stood as angels in Heaven before their fall. Now, they were leaders of a fractured race, striving to keep control over their dwindling numbers.

Only one held the title of Governor General—the first Fallen Angel and the most powerful among them, Azazel. However, his strength did not solely lie in his raw power but in his leadership. Unlike many who had fallen from grace, Azazel knew the value of humility. He did not rule alone, nor did he seek to. His authority remained unchallenged because he allowed others to advise him, to tell him when he was wrong, and to guide his decisions. It was this willingness to listen and collaborate that kept his leadership strong and intact, fostering a rare unity among the fallen.

This was further proven by the fact that Azazel was the only original leader still alive since the Great War. The almighty God, and the Four Satans—they were all gone now. He alone remained, the last of those who had once shaped the fate of the world

Among the ranks of the Fallen Angels, many held high positions of authority, but four stood out as the core leadership.

Azazel - Shemhazai - Baraqiel, and… Kokabiel.

Kokabiel, the Executive General, was once a force to be reckoned with. His title carried power and influence, and he had long served as the military commander of the Grigori. Known for his prowess in battle, he had been indispensable in the early days when the Fallen Angels faced countless threats.

If you were to wage a war, Kokabiel was the one you would want leading your armies.

However, there had not been a war in… hundreds of years.

His usefulness to his race and to the world, was null, as it had been for so long.

All Fallen Angels shared a common fate. Excommunication from Heaven, cast down by God for violating the seven deadly sins. It was fair to say that nearly all of them fell because of lust—a desire deemed impure, especially when it involved humans. The almighty had explicitly forbidden such relationships, but the allure of mortal beauty had tempted the angels, leading to their fall.

However, Kokabiel's seventh sin was not lust, but wrath, a deep-seated desire for chaos, for war. His thirst for destruction—against enemies, against the world—burned relentlessly. But for him, there was no war to fight, no battlefield to dominate, and no worthy adversaries he was allowed to kill.

His fury simmered, trapped in a world that no longer had use for him.

As a Cadre, Kokabiel still held influence on paper, but in practice, few took him seriously. The older generations, who had once fought alongside him, had either died or retired. The newer ranks of Fallen Angels knew him only as a figure from history, a relic of an era long past, despite the fact that he still lived among them. Kokabiel's fiery ambitions and relentless calls for war and dominance were met with resistance at every turn. His proposals for reclaiming their former glory, for challenging Heaven and the other factions, were consistently shunned, dismissed by the other governing leaders.

The Grigori, once a formidable faction, now struggled to maintain relevance in a rapidly changing world. After the Great War, they abandoned the projection of power, choosing instead to bunker down, relying heavily on technological advancements to gain an edge over other races. They had grown closer to humans, integrating with mortal societies in a bid to survive. But on a larger scale, things were grim. The economy stagnated, the population declined, and their influence on global affairs continued to wane.

A warrior forged in the fires of ancient conflicts, he was now forced to endure the slow decay of his people, watching the organization he helped build stumble toward irrelevance. He had been shaped by war, defined by wrath and conquest, and now he was expected to stand idle as his kin languished in their own weakness.

Before them all, four low-class Fallen Angels knelt.

"Your actions could have caused a war." Shemhazai's stern voice echoed through the hall, his expression cold and unyielding as his gaze locked onto the disgraced group before him. As the Vice-General, second in command, he carried the weight of responsibility.

Baraqiel, his low and gravelly voice cutting through the tense silence, spoke next. "You're all lucky to even be alive." His dark wings rustled slightly as he regarded them, the weight of his disappointment hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

Penemue, the Chief Secretary of the Grigori, looked forward with a more measured approach. Her violet hair cascaded down her shoulders, and despite the gravity of the situation, her voice remained calm, though laced with quiet reproach. "Raynare-chan," she began, her eyes fixed on the leader of the disgraced group, "You killed a boy with a Sacred Gear because you feared he would wreak havoc on the world. But then, you claim to have been bested by different human—an agent of the devils—and after that, you attempted to steal a Sacred Gear from another human."

Her gaze sharpened, each word carrying the weight of disappointment. "So tell me, who was truly wreaking havoc against the humans?"

"I did it For Azazel-sama!" Raynare blurted out, desperation clear in her voice. "To earn his fav—"

"My favor?" Azazel's voice cut through her explanation, low and simmering with displeasure. He stood at the head of the room, his violet eyes sharp and unforgiving. "Well, you've certainly done a remarkable job. I know your names now—and I suddenly regret learning them." His voice grew colder with each word, the sarcasm and contempt biting. "Congratulations. You've brought shame, embarrassment, and the potential for war to us."

The room seemed to hold its breath. Raynare's eyes widened as the weight of her idols words sank in. There was no favor for her—only scorn. Her once confident facade crumbled before the leaders.

Azazel's gaze flickered over each of the fallen angels before him, his disdain apparent. "I have no favor for those who bring us closer to ruin," he said, his voice hard. "Especially not for something as reckless and short-sighted as this."

The room fell into a heavy silence, and in the corner, Kokabiel stood, arms folded. Unlike his fellow Cadres, he didn't speak, didn't scold. Instead, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes gleamed with something else—amusement, perhaps even anticipation. Where the others saw only failure, Kokabiel seemed to see something more.

An opportunity.

Kokabiel's gaze drifted downward, almost in quiet admiration. Like most Fallen Angels, he held no love for devils or angels and regarded humans as mere tools, their existence serving only to fuel the ambitions of his race. These four, however—Raynare, Kalawarner, Mittelt, and Dohnaseek—were low-ranking members who had failed spectacularly. To him, they were insignificant, their errors not worth the effort of defending.

A grin slowly curled at the corner of his mouth. He had plans of his own for the human world, plans that could reshape the balance between Fallen Angels and devils. But as he watched the scene unfold, a thought crept into his mind. Perhaps he could intervene, save them from the humiliation about to befall them. After all, a small gesture of goodwill could earn him leverage down the line.

Yet, the temptation was fleeting. No. It was better to allow them to face Azazel's disdain. The shame would break their spirits, making it easier for Kokabiel to manipulate the pieces for his own ambitions later. Letting them feel the weight of their disgrace would pave the way for his future machinations.

"It's decided," The Governor-General's voice echoed through the hall, cold and resolute. "We are banishing you four."

Raynare's eyes widened in horror, her voice trembling as she dared to speak. "Y-You're excommunicating us?" The other three gasped, unable to even formulate words.

It was indeed ironic. Once, they had been cast out of heaven, exiled from paradise. Now, they would not even be allowed to live among the exiles of the Underworld. The final blow of disgrace was worse than any punishment they could have imagined.

Azazel, scanning the room for any dissent, asked flatly, "Any opposed?"

The assembly remained silent. Not a single voice rose in their defense. Not even Kokabiel, who sat watching with his dark grin, made a move.

This was an opportunity.

"You will remain in the human world," Azazel continued, his tone one of absolute authority. "If I hear that you're wreaking havoc—killing humans or infringing on devil territory without permission—we will leave you to your fate. Or, deal with you ourselves."

The countryside lay before him, calm and quiet, a rural expanse marked by dense forests and towering trees. Rocky paths wound their way through the landscape, aqueducts carrying the natural spring water that fed the nearby rivers, their clear waters inviting for a drink. Lush, rolling hills stretched in every direction, with the occasional breeze stirring the grass.

When Sasuke had first arrived in this world, he had been struck by how different the air felt compared to his own. The quality here was noticeably worse than in the shinobi world. It hung thick and suffocating in the cities. But out here, far from the industrial sprawl, it felt more familiar—almost comforting. This part of the world possessed a nostalgic scent, a faint reminder of the forests, rivers, and open skies of the place he had once called…

The Land of Fire.

It brightened his mood, and reminded him of what this was all for. Though tedious, and seemingly unproductive, everything was done for a reason, all for the grand goal.

The Grand Goal.

He sat on a weathered stone wall. They were far from the city, this area is a seemingly abandoned, or rather, a getaway from Rias' own clan. It provided an escape and proper training grounds, as fighting too close to people will only cause devastation.

Sasuke stared at them, a mix of disappointment and pessimism etched across his features, coupled with a lack of ambition.

Ten days.

The Uchiha had only ten days to transform this ragtag team of volleyball players into a fighting force—one that could stand up against a much larger, more experienced, and arguably more capable peerage.

The 'King' had made a bold decision—she had not so humbly asked Sasuke for help. He had made one thing perfectly clear. If he were to assist them, he would be in charge of their training. Rias, desperate for any advantage in her battle against Riser, had readily agreed. Yet it was evident to Sasuke that she hadn't fully comprehended the depth of her commitment.

Where to even begin?

There were various disciplines to learn.

Close-quarters combat. Ranged combat. Defensive techniques. Magical warfare.

However, not everyone needed to master every discipline. Some would focus more on certain skill sets than others.

Sasuke did not know any magic. That was evident. However, he was aware of his own strengths and limitations. For now, he needed to concentrate on physical combat, which suited him well, especially since Issei, Kiba, and Koneko all relied heavily on close-quarters techniques.

He had been assessing them for a while now, and what he saw did not impress him.

"Hyoudou…" The Uchiha muttered aloud, his voice carrying across the open air, "Hopeless." He had been defeated by one of Riser's pawns without even counter attacking, it had been embarrassing to see. Issei flinched but said nothing.

His black eyes, concealed by the illusion of the Transformation Jutsu, shifted toward Kiba and Koneko. He had seen them fight before and had gathered enough insight to evaluate some of their weaknesses.

"Both of you—same problem. You can't close the distance against a ranged user. You're reliable in close combat, but that won't help if your enemies never let you near. You need to work together and mirror each other."

Kiba's expression tightened, but he kept his composure. Koneko, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride, her face as impassive as ever.

Sasuke's gaze shifted toward Asia, who stood quietly among the others, her hands nervously clasped together. He had never had a particularly high opinion of medical ninja. While he had relied on Karin in the past, it was always out of necessity rather than respect. They were support, not warriors.

"Stay in the back," He said coldly, his voice void of sympathy. "You're useless against the enemy."

Asia looked down, clearly hurt but remained silent.

Next came the 'King' herself. The challenge with dealing with magic users was that Sasuke had no knowledge of how to wield magic. While it might not be impossible for him to learn, he had never bothered to do so, believing he would never need it. Rias, however, employed more than just basic elemental spells. She possessed a Kekkei Genkai, a bloodline ability passed down through her family.

Sasuke understood that he could not assist her with that, as he had no idea how the power of destruction worked. However, he had one potential method to accelerate her progress in a short amount of time.

".. Why don't you ask your brother to help you?" He brazenly asked, not knowing how difficult it is for Rias to speak about her brother. The Uchiha knew about this Lucifer, or as he has been told, as the fake Lucifer.

"The Usurper."

"The Pretender."

"Crimson-Haired Prince of Destruction."

"The Embodiment of Destruction."

Those were quite the titles and rumors to be had. But since they had come from them, he was inclined to believe them. If it were true, then he would be the perfect one to teach her how to properly use her blood power.

Rias frowned slightly, her crimson hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she hesitated, her gaze drifting away. "My Onii-sama…" she murmured, avoiding eye contact.

Akeno smiled softly, her usual teasing tone subdued. "Rias-sama doesn't like to bother Maou Lucifer-sama too much. He's very busy, and it's not always easy to reach him."

The High-Class devil's expression grew contemplative as she turned to redirect the subject, "Do you have any siblings?" She asked carefully. "I'm sure you know how difficult it can be to ask them for things... sometimes."

Sasuke's gaze sharpened at her question. For a moment, memories of Itachi flashed through his mind, stirring something within him. But he chose not to answer, maintaining his cold, unreadable expression and brushing past the inquiry.

Finally, his eyes shifted toward Akeno. Unlike with the others, his gaze lingered on her a moment longer. "The Queen is the strongest piece on the board," He observed aloud. "You're the most promising here. Your power nearly killed the fallen angels, and you possess a much greater reserve of demonic energy than the rest. Your holy power could be useful against other devils."

Akeno smiled, her usual playful demeanor masking a spark of pride. Though Sasuke's judgment against them all felt harsh, it was undeniably accurate. However, his criticisms hung over the group like a dark cloud.

"You got something to say?!" Issei suddenly roared, stepping forward, his face flushed with anger. "You talk a lot for someone so strong, but you wouldn't have done any better against Riser's peerage! You're not the one fighting!"

Sasuke didn't even look at him. His attention shifted back to Akeno. "You," he said, his tone firm.

The Queen raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "What about me?" she teased.

"I'll start with you." Sasuke replied, his decision seemingly made.

Before Akeno could respond, Rias interjected. "On the contrary, perhaps you should start with Issei. He has the least experience, and it would make sense to focus on his development first."

Koneko muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear, "He's only good for peeping…"

Rias sighed, crossing her arms as she glanced at her Pawn. "Issei selfishly consumed all of my pawns, but I expect great things from him. I'll leave his fate in your hands, Uchiha-kun."

Sasuke shot her an irritated look. "If he can manage to throw a proper punch, I'll think about it."

The red-haired woman smirked, undeterred, "Clearly, you haven't been paying attention. My Pawn has grown exponentially." She raised her voice, "Issei! Show him."

"Yes, Buchou!" Issei shouted eagerly. He stepped forward and thrust his hand into the air, "Boosted Gear!"

[BOOST]

[BOOS!]

"More!" Rias commanded.

[BOOST] ... [BOOST] ... [BOOST]

Akeno nodded, impressed. "Five times," she remarked smoothly. "That's a record."

"Go ahead, Sasuke, face him!" Rias tried to order, gesturing toward Issei. But the human remained seated on the stone wall, unmoving.

Issei, adrenaline coursing through him, rushed toward Sasuke with newfound confidence. "I can't hold this much power for long!" he cried, extending his arm. His palm opened wide, and a bright, pulsing beam of red energy shot forward, hurtling toward Sasuke with incredible speed and force.

The blast obliterated the stone wall, carving a path of destruction as it raced toward the distant mountains. For a brief moment, the peerage watched in stunned silence, wondering if Sasuke had been decimated by the attack. The wall had crumbled, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

"Perhaps you're worth something after all."

The devils turned to see the human sitting on what remained of the structure, now slightly to the right of where the beam had struck. His expression was unchanged. "But work on your aim."

The Sekiryuutei, red-faced and embarrassed, scratched the back of his head. "Jeez... I thought you died."

Sasuke stared at the boy. That attack had considerable power behind it, and despite the result, the devil hadn't actually missed. The Uchiha had simply moved to the side to avoid the blast. It was a dramatic improvement, especially considering that just a day ago, Issei had been knocked down by a single Pawn piece.

"Don't bother with that." The Uchiha commanded, prompting Issei to put his hand down, "If you use that power, you won't have any energy left for later. Let's focus on less demanding things for the moment."

"Like you would know..." Issei muttered quietly.

The human crossed his arms, his gaze steady as he looked directly at Issei. "Before we get into this, I need to know you're serious," he said, his tone calm but firm. "Why are you fighting? Why risk your life—for her? You do understand, if she loses, there's a chance they might let you walk away, right? You will be free again."

The pawn's fists clenched as he stood taller, his expression lighting up with resolve, "I want to help Buchou!" he declared, his voice filled with pride and determination. "I serve her, and I will fight for her. The last thing I want is freedom from her. She is the most important thing to me." His loyalty rang clear, the intensity in his voice echoing through the air.

"... Why?"

Issei's brow furrowed, but his resolve didn't falter. "I don't know much about these devil politics," he admitted, "But if Buchou doesn't want this, then I stand by her. I'll fight and die for her because it's the right thing to do. And because she believes in me. Not like something you or Riser would know! Both of you are a bad influence."

What?

"Speak up." Sasuke demanded, "I don't recall ever threatening to force a marriage on her."

Issei pointed, "I know how she looks at you. And I swear, I will not lose to you, to Riser, or Kiba. I will prove to Buchou I am the best man for her!" He noticed the steward was still confused, "I've seen how you treat women at school. Like they are a bug, or nuisance, and I don't care if buchou fawns over you. I will treat her much better than you ever could!"

The training hasn't even started and Sasuke is already rubbing his temples.

"Where did you even come from?" Issei asked, irritation in his eyes, "You just appeared out of nowhere and now you're in our club. Buchou let you in and you don't even do what we do. And you refused to be one of us!"

Sasuke stared blankly, something about the question catching his attention. Where did he come from? No one at school had ever asked him that before, and for a moment, he was unable to give a proper answer. His cover story was that he was a local of the countryside, but somehow that answer felt forced, too simple, and easy to be seen as a lie in this situation. Instead of responding, he decided to change the conversation entirely.

One thing was clear—while many at Kuoh Academy were intimidated, even scared of him, Issei was different. The boy recklessly faced threats for the sake of someone else, driven by loyalty and guts. To Sasuke, it was pathetic, yet undeniable—it was Issei's resolve and is what gave him guts.

And in the shinobi world, guts, at the very least, meant something.

Seeing the unwavering commitment the Pawn held for his beloved master, Sasuke paused.

His thoughts shifted. Perhaps, there was an opportunity here—one he hadn't fully considered before.

"Hyoudou Issei." The Uchiha said in a low, measured voice. One that intimated his classmate, and made him wary.

Issei, still wary, narrowed his eyes. "W-What is it?"

The Uchiha's gaze dropped, his tone taking on a serious edge. "I promise you this—I have no intention of pursuing Rias in the way you think. She's all yours. I don't see things the way you do. If you want her, that's up to you."

Sasuke wasn't entirely ignorant. He understood what it meant for someone to love another, even if he had no interest in such things himself—not now, at least. But he could see what Issei wanted, and he knew he stood in the way of that. He was the obstacle Issei would have to overcome. However, there was a potential advantage in this situation, one that could ultimately serve his own goals. If Issei's determination was as strong as it seemed, he knew he could use it—perhaps even turn it to his benefit.

Issei flinched, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. It was true—he loved his 'King', and jealousy had been gnawing at him, especially with the newcomer around. But hearing it stated so bluntly left him momentarily speechless.

"And… What do you want from me?" Issei asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of uncertainty and hope.

He didn't need to elaborate for the devil to realize—this was an offer. An exchange.

Suddenly, his training partner moved without warning, appearing before the devil in an instant, their closeness ensuring no one else could hear. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it carried a weight that sent a chill through the air. "Listen carefully," he began slowly "When I ask a question, you'll answer. That's all. We won't be friends, but we can be something close to allies."

He leaned in slightly, his gaze sharp, but his words oddly detached. "I want her to win this fight, but I'm not one of you. I never will be, and I don't want to be. You can have Rias—if that's what you want—but you'll help me."

There was a pause, deliberately allowing the silence to linger, pulling Issei further into the tension of the moment. Sasuke's eyes sharpened, calculating. "Tell me things no one else bothers with... small details, information, names, what's happening with the other devils." He stepped back, his gaze narrowing, carrying an unspoken threat. "And keep this between us. I think you understand what happens if you don't."

His voice lowered, a quiet, dangerous edge to it, almost daring Issei. "Do this... and she's yours."

The long game.

Issei stared at him, confused and a little perplexed. They were on the same side, after all—there shouldn't be any need for secrecy between them. Sasuke was here to help Rias win and earn her freedom, just like he was. So why was he asking for all this?

Sasuke took it, and they shook hands, sealing their unspoken pact. Issei's smirk suggested he believed he had gotten the better end of the bargain.

For a moment, he hesitated, weighing the deal, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, he nodded, extending his hand.

"Deal."

With the agreement solidified, Sasuke leaped back, a shift in the atmosphere around him as he raised his hands defensively. "Now, to get you motivated, I'll cast an illusion. Don't be fooled—it will still be me." He swiftly formed three hand seals, and with a puff of smoke, his form shifted.

Issei's eyes widened in panic as the smoke cleared.

"R-Riser!?"

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly frustrated, though beneath the irritation, he could feel something stirring within the devil—anger. He could sense radiating from Issei. It was raw, almost unrefined, but there was potential in it. Anger could fuel power, as the Uchina knew well.

In a fight, anger is as good as courage.

He stood tall in his altered form, his expression reflecting Riser's arrogant confidence. "Come!" Sasuke commanded, his voice laced with challenge. "And don't disappoint."

Issei's eyes narrowed in response, the weight of the challenge hitting him fully. He clenched his fists, anger surging through him, fueling his determination. This wasn't about proving something to anyone else anymore—not even to Sasuke. It was about proving it to himself.

"As if I didn't want to hit you before! Now…!"

With a growl, Issei charged forward, his Boosted Gear flaring to life.

[BOOST]

"Attack me. I will not move."

Those who knew the peerage likely also believed the Queen was the strongest piece in Rias' arsenal. Perhaps it was true, perhaps not—but to him, her potential stood above the rest. Akeno had a mastery over magic, with lightning as her affinity. Coincidentally, it was an element he, too, had honed to near perfection.

Akeno stared at him with a hint of confusion, though her playful nature never failed to shine through, regardless of the situation. Whether happy, sad, or even uncertain, she always found amusement in the moment.

"Sasuke-kun, if you were looking for a little pain, we could have arranged for a more... private setting..." She teased, her words dripping with playful suggestion.

He smirked, his confidence unwavering, and replied, "Don't worry. You won't hurt me."

Taken aback by his boldness, Akeno didn't press further. Instead, her expression shifted, and with a quiet resolve, she lowered her gaze and transformed, slipping into her battle attire.

BOOM

With a deafening roar, the devil unleashed a powerful bolt of lightning, pouring additional holy magic into the spell to amplify its potency. The air crackled with energy as the thunderous crash echoed, sending a plume of smoke billowing into the sky. A thrill of exhilaration coursed through her, but it quickly shifted to concern. Rushing forward, she cleared the haze, expecting to find destruction in her wake.

To her astonishment, Sasuke stood amidst the chaos, his hand outstretched in a defensive gesture. Though covered in grime from the attack, he remained unscathed. The ground around him, however, bore deep scars from the sheer force of the impact, a testament to the power she had unleashed.

Akeno's eyes widened in genuine curiosity. "Is that... lightning on your hand?" she asked, noting the crackling energy still dancing along his fingertips.

Lighting, like fire, can deflect and counter one another if the force behind it was greater or at the equivalent.

"That's impressive," She remarked, her voice softening. "But alas, I'm not much of a hand-to-hand fighter myself. I prefer to put my hands to... other uses." Her words trailed off with a sly tone, her playful nature once again bubbling to the surface, hinting at all the tantalizing possibilities that lingered beneath her teasing.

In this world, magical abilities were channeled through intricate magic circles—an essential catalyst for offensive spells, defensive barriers, teleportation, seals, and more. To see someone like Sasuke wield such power without relying on those circles was rare.

It was however, something usable for her. He relied on hand seals and chakra for jutsu, but Akeno had no chakra. Hand seals wouldn't work for her. Still, with her mastery of multiple affinities, there might be a way.

"What other magic can you use?" He asked.

She paused thoughtfully before replying, "Fire. Water. Ice."

Ice. That word stirred old memories, memories of Haku—deadly and beautiful, his ice techniques as lethal as they were graceful. Sasuke remembered vividly. One day, perhaps, he would attempt to recreate that Kekkei Genkai. Water and wind… maybe even earth could be combined to replicate it.

"Water," Sasuke said, his mind sharpening to the task at hand. "Flood the area. Infuse it with lightning. That'll obliterate them all."

Akeno tilted her head, her teasing tone returning. "Ara, not a bad idea. But what happens if Issei-kun or someone else is fighting on the ground with them?"

Sasuke ignored her question, his eyes hardening. "You'll be outnumbered. It's best to kill as many as you can before they can become a threat."

Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by his bluntness. "People don't typically die in these games... we're in a separate dimension for them."

His gaze remained cold, his tone unwavering. "People will die in our dimension. It's better you learn how to keep yourself alive. Better you than them."

Koneko fell to her knees, her hands pressing into the ground, barely keeping herself upright. Around her, craters pockmarked the earth—deep impressions from punches meant for sparring partner. Yet, the ground bore the brunt of her fury, not him. He stood untouched, unmoved, though a flicker of satisfaction crossed his features.

For someone so small in stature, her strength was remarkable—on par with a Jōnin, perhaps even greater. Rock Lee came to mind, another deceptively frail-looking fighter. Sasuke had learned, back then, never to judge someone by their appearance. Koneko was no different.

She was an enigma. A young Nekomata, part of a rare species known as Nekoshou. Sasuke couldn't help but wonder, would she have belonged to a summoning contract in his world? The shinobi world used many intelligent species, but Koneko was more devil than cat—her true nature hidden beneath layers of power she didn't fully access.

"Are you done?" He asked, his voice even, showing neither impatience nor irritation.

Without answering, Koneko lunged. Her speed was astonishing, but not enough.

Her fist, brimming with raw, feral strength, came crashing toward him. Sasuke didn't flinch. His open palm met her strike with ease, his feet sliding back a mere inch from the impact. And that was it. Her hair, once whipping wildly, fell around her face, concealing her eyes. She exhaled shakily and let go, collapsing into exhaustion.

"You can recover," Sasuke said, his tone softer. "I know you can."

She looked up at him, her golden eyes wide with fatigue, but understanding dawned in them as they met his gaze. Slowly, she nodded, resigned.

"Senpai…" She muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, "You use chakra... not human energy."

"I do." he replied smoothly, watching her intently.

Koneko's brow furrowed as she continued, "… You have lots of chakra." She hesitated, almost as if the thought troubled her.

"I do." Sasuke repeated, his calm demeanor unshaken.

"…Too much… more than even…" Her voice trailed off, the end of her sentence swallowed by hesitation.

Sasuke's gaze darkened slightly, though his voice remained controlled. "If you can master it, there's no such thing as too much."

"How do you have so much?" She asked, her curiosity piqued.

It was an interesting question, one with more than a few answers. Answers she wouldn't understand—answers he wasn't willing to give. Yet, he knew he could offer her something. Something that would satisfy her curiosity, without delving too deep into the past he preferred to keep hidden.

"My parents," He said, his voice steady but distant. "My family. My ancestors. My home."

There was no need for her to know the whole truth.

He placed his hand gently on her head, his touch surprisingly warm. "The real question is, why don't you use your own power? You rely only on your physical strength. No magic. No senjutsu. That could be the key to unlocking your true potential. More offensive power, more defense, speed, everything."

She stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. But she shook her head and walked over in the other direction.

The power senjutsu offered immense strength. Sasuke did not have it, but Naruto had mastered it. Madara had taken Hashirama's and essentially fought the war, alone, with it, without even his own eyes.

The same potential lay dormant within Koneko.

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the air. Steel on steel, engaged in a rigorous session of swordplay. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground, but the atmosphere was charged with intensity. The shinobi's movements were swift and precise, each strike calculated and deadly, a testament to his rigorous training.

Kiba, brimming with determination, mirrored Sasuke's intensity, but despite his resolve, he struggled to keep up with the Uchiha's pace. His strikes were powerful but lacked the finesse and fluidity that came with years of experience. Yet, under the relentless guidance, the Knight's resolve only strengthened. He felt the weight of expectation on his shoulders and was driven to push beyond his limits, striving for mastery.

"I thought you were a magician at first," Kiba said, a teasing smile breaking through the tension of the spar, "You're far better than me."

'Those eyes again,' Sasuke observed to himself, his instincts sharp as ever, but he quickly refocused on the training at hand. He understood all too well that delving into another's personal struggles was a boundary not to be crossed, especially in his line of work.

Those were the eyes of vengeance.

Suddenly, Kiba slammed his sword into the ground, yelling, "Sword Birth!" In an instant, swords erupted from the earth, aiming to catch his partner off balance. The air crackled with energy, but the blond quickly realized that he had underestimated his opponents reaction time. With fluid movements, Sasuke dodged each sword, his body weaving effortlessly through the onslaught as if he were dancing.

His movements were precise, almost graceful, as he balanced effortlessly on the hilt and tip of the blades that had erupted around him. The control over his own weight was so finely tuned that not a single sword pierced his shoes. After a whirlwind of strikes, he emerged victorious, his blade now resting at Kiba's throat. The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air, a silent reminder of the skill gap.

The prince's voice rang out, accompanied by a smile of acceptance. "I yield," he admitted graciously, breathless yet filled with admiration. "You're the best I've ever met. I learned a lot from that alone."

Sasuke lowered his sword, his eyes narrowing as he saw that distant, conflicted look in Kiba's eyes. He let out a breath, then decided to offer something more than just criticism. "I'm only going to say this once," He began, his voice low and serious. "You have some potential. But in a real fight, you can't let whatever's holding you back keep you from staying focused. If you do, you'll end up getting yourself killed." His gaze hardened. "And not just yourself—others too. Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll take down the ones you want. But if you're not... you'll lose sight of who you really are."

He had no real desire to involve himself in whatever personal demons plagued Kiba, but leaving it unsaid felt wrong. Years of battle-hardened experience had shaped him into someone who understood the weight of internal conflict far too well.

With everything that had happened, he had come to understand more—his emotional intelligence had grown. The last encounter with Itachi had transformed his perspective. Sasukee was no longer just a vessel of vengeance. Now, his goal was to bear the burden of his world, to create a revolutionary time, and hopefully lead it into a far more advanced society, one free from the chains of hatred and despair.

Kiba's surprise was evident, a mix of respect and introspection washing over him. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on Sasuke, absorbing the gravity of his mentor's advice. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, one that the knight did not expect the human to notice.

"Again."

It was late.

The countryside mansion had settled into silence, and those who had trained relentlessly throughout the day had finally succumbed to exhaustion. The only sound was the faint rustling of wind through the nearby trees. The air was cold, swirling gently around the estate.

Sasuke sat and leaned against a wall, apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the moon. It hung high in the sky, casting its pale light over the world. The cold air nipped at his skin, but he found it soothing. It wasn't the moon he had known all his life. This one was just… a moon. No Kaguya sealed within it. No Otsutsuki threat lurking beyond it. No Ten-Tails.

A soft voice called out, one he recognized from earlier. He wasn't the only one struggling to sleep.

"You're awake too?" Akeno's gentle voice broke the stillness of the night.

Sasuke glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of her. Her usual smile played on her lips as she approached, her dark hair, usually tied in an elegant ponytail, now flowing freely down her back. The simple night robe she wore swayed with the cool breeze of the night, and the moonlight seemed to accentuate her every graceful step. She looked more relaxed, almost ethereal, in the moon's glow.

Akeno's smile widened, her eyes glinting with that familiar flirtatious charm. "I prefer the quiet of the night too. It's peaceful."

"Queen," Sasuke addressed her, his tone formal and detached. "You should rest. You'll need your energy. Don't think tomorrow will be easier."

The devil chuckled softly, the sound gentle against the night air. "You don't have to be so formal with me, Sasuke-kun. We trained together earlier, didn't we? Just call me Akeno. Are you saying you'll push me even harder tomorrow?"

He ignored the playful edge in her words, but he obliged her request. "Akeno, then." His tone remained cold, unaffected by her teasing, as though the familiarity made no difference to him. They sat apart in silence, their legs barely touching on the narrow stone ledge. The dark night was still, the quiet air surrounding them like a comforting blanket. The devil, ever observant, let her gaze linger on Sasuke for a moment before she spoke.

"I hope I'm not bothering you," She began, her voice gentle but curious. "I just saw you and thought... you looked lonely."

Sasuke didn't immediately respond. His eyes remained fixed on the sky, and when he spoke, his voice was low, distant. "I prefer being alone."

Akeno hesitated, sensing the weight behind his words. But she wasn't easily discouraged. "I understand that feeling… But even people who like being alone can get lonely."

There was a flicker of something in his gaze, but his reply remained stern, "More people need time alone. It helps them think."

She caught the subtle hint, knowing he was referring to more than just himself. Maybe Rias, or maybe something deeper, but she let it pass without pressing. Instead, she kept her smile, soft and understanding. "I do too… sometimes."

They both fell silent for a moment, the gentle night air wrapping around them. Akeno's eyes wandered to the horizon, her expression wistful. "This place feels so different from Kuoh and the city. Do you miss it?"

Sasuke glanced at her, his tone indifferent. "Kuoh?"

"Kuoh Academy… or, well, home, I guess. You're a transfer student, right? Where are you from?"

The question lingered in the air, and for a moment, Sasuke's expression darkened. He had been asked this before, but Akeno's curiosity felt different, more genuine. Less like an interrogation, more like an offer of understanding.

"I'm from a village in this country." he said quietly. It wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough. "This place reminds me of it."

Akeno nodded softly. "When I was ten, I traveled a lot around Japan. I visited small villages, places most people wouldn't know. I was helping to purify spirits back then. It's possible I passed by your village without either of us realizing."

Sasuke turned to her, skepticism clear, "At ten, you were traveling alone?"

Her gaze drifted toward the moon, "It wasn't always easy," She admitted. "But it was what I had to do. It's... a part of who I was." Her voice softened, her smile faltering for just a second, as if the memories weighed on her more than she let on. There was a quiet shift, a connection unspoken but present. Akeno's playful demeanor returned, though her tone remained serious. "Do you miss home?" she asked softly, her eyes now searching his face. "We've noticed... you don't go back often. But you're also a transfer student. You're always here, but never there. So, do you miss it?"

"Friends? Family? Maybe you have someone back home waiting for you?"

Friends. Yes, Sasuke had once thought he had them. Karin, Suigetsu, Jugo—they had followed him, fought beside him, saved his life more than once. But were they really friends? He wasn't sure. Perhaps, in some distorted way, they were. But he knew the truth now. He had abandoned them. Left them behind without so much as a word of explanation. Karin, especially.

And then there were Sakura and Naruto. They were a different story, tied to a different part of his life. There was so much unsaid between them, so much unresolved. He didn't expect Sakura to ever forgive him, not after everything he had done. And Naruto... Naruto wouldn't give up, he never had. He wouldn't lay down and die, no matter how much Sasuke had tried to push him away.

Difficult thoughts. Painful ones. He didn't want to dwell on them. But they lingered in the back of his mind, always there, reminding him of the ties he had severed and the people he had hurt along the way.

And the fact that he still had to go through with what he had planned.

Did they all think he was dead?

Maybe not, as they were still in the Infinite Tsukuyomi.

"... There's no one waiting for me," Sasuke finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, an echo of his solitude. "But I will get back home. I have to go back. I need to go back."

Akeno slidcloser, her presence both soothing and mischievous. "Well, well... now we have something. You don't need to hold back, Sasuke-kun. Your secrets are safe with me."

He turned slightly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Are they?" His tone was sharp, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You serve someone. That's your own fault."

The devil shrugged lightly, her smile unwavering. "I do. Rias is my best friend, my family, my home. That's why I don't miss 'home'—because she is my world and has been since we first met."

Rias is her home.

It was difficult to understand. How could someone tie their entire sense of home to another person? He chose not to argue, accepting her words even if they felt foreign.

Sensing his internal struggle, Akeno broke the silence with a soft laugh. "That's why I'm awake," she confessed. "I'm… distressed. I can already feel gray hairs forming."

Her tone was lighthearted, but the strain beneath it was clear. She was worried—genuinely worried.

Sasuke studied her, his gaze piercing through her playful facade. "What is it?"

"I'm very worried… for Rias. I'm scared we will lose." Her voice grew vulnerable, the usual teasing gone. She turned to face him fully, her eyes searching his. "Do you think we'll lose?"

The response was calm, measured. "I don't know. But there's more than one way to get out of this. Just focus on yourself. Work on getting stronger. Without strength, you have nothing."

She shook her head gently. "I don't like to think that way. It's not just about me. It's about all of us—together." Her voice softened, filled with warmth. "And that includes you too. Being here, helping us… Buchou and the rest of us, we appreciate it."

Sasuke smirked slightly, a hint of his typical smoothness returning. "… I'm not one of you."

Akeno tilted her head, her smile widening but softening with understanding. "You don't have to be a human, devil or a reincarnated devil. You're a member of the Occult Research Club. That makes you one of us."

His black eyes met her violet ones, and he could see the sincerity in her words.

But she had no idea.

It wasn't about being human or a devil.

He wasn't from here.

For some reason, I ended up rewriting this 3-4 times. I know not a lot happened, but it will pick up.

Tony: Definitely a lot Great Red glazing, I admit. And for this story to work, it sort of has to happen.

Thanks for the reviews! I read them all! I know this story is moving kind of slow, but it will grow and things will happen. I also decided why not give a little more attention to Kokabiel, not much, but anything to make it more interesting.

Let me know what you think!