Disclaimer: I do not own Highschool DxD and 'High school dxd: The Thunder God' by 'thunder_god18'. They belong to their respective owners.
Enjoy.
The neon signs of some unknown district bled into the rainy night, reflecting in the slick asphalt and painting the world in a melancholic, electric blue.
A young woman, Akari, hurried along the sidewalk, clutching her worn textbooks to her chest.
She is a woman in her late twenties, though stress and exhaustion etched lines around her kind, hazel eyes, making her seem older, her brown hair, usually tied back in a practical bun, had come loose in the downpour, strands clinging damply to her pale face and she wore a simple, unfashionable clothes – a plain grey raincoat over jeans and sturdy boots – clothes that prioritized comfort over style, a quiet statement in a town brimming with youthful exuberance.
Akari wasn't a student, but a librarian at the town's aging public library, a place of quiet refuge she cherished.
Tonight, however, refuge seemed far away as she had lingered late, engrossed in translating an obscure grimoire – a personal fascination that often bled into her off-hours.
Now, the streets are deserted, the cheerful chatter of the people being replaced by the drumming rain and the unsettling silence of shadows and as she rounded a dimly lit corner, she heard the coarse laughter and felt a prickle of unease.
Two figures emerged from the alleyway, blocking her path, appearing to be teenagers, albeit much bigger and bolder than the usual students she has familiarised with as their eyes are as predatory as they sized her up, their leers making Akari's stomach clench.
"Well, well, what have we here?" One sneered, stepping closer, reeking of cheap cigarettes and something sour. "Lost, little librarian?"
Akari tried to sidestep them, her heart hammering, but they moved with her, cutting off her escape. "Please," She murmured, her voice trembling slightly, "I just want to go home."
"Home?" The other one chuckled, grabbing her arm roughly. His grip was like iron. "Maybe we can show you a better time than going home to dusty books."
Panic seized Akari as she struggled, but they were too strong.
They dragged her towards the alley, the flickering streetlight casting grotesque shadows around them.
Despair began to creep in, cold and suffocating.
This was it.
She was alone, vulnerable, and utterly helpless.
Then, the world shifted.
The air grew heavy, thick with a pressure that felt both physical and metaphysical.
The jeering laughter died in the abusers' throats as the rain seemed to intensify, not with sound, but with a strange, vibrating silence that pressed on Akari's ears.
The very shadows in the alley deepened, swirling and coalescing into something that defied description.
It wasn't a creature in the traditional sense.
It was… an absence made manifest.
Imagine the void between stars, given form and sentience and as it shift it's tapestry of non-colors, of geometries that twisted just beyond the edge of perception, the tendrils of inky darkness writhed and pulsed, not like tentacles, but like expressions of a reality utterly alien to this world.
Eyes, or what Akari's terrified mind interpreted as eyes, opened and closed within the shifting form – not eyes of flesh and blood, but points of impossible light, like glimmers of distant universes.
From its non-mouth, a sound emanated, not a roar or a growl, but a low, resonant hum that vibrated in Akari's bones, a sound that spoke not of language, but of cosmic indifference and ancient power.
The abusers recoiled, releasing Akari's arms as if burned as their bravado evaporated, replaced by a terror that mirrored, and amplified, her own.
But while Akari's fear was rooted in self-preservation, theirs was something… different.
It was the fear of the mind unraveling, of sanity fracturing against something utterly incomprehensible.
The eldritch entity turned its attention to the abusers.
It didn't lash out physically.
Instead, it reached into their minds as Akari watched, paralyzed by a primal terror, as the men's faces contorted.
They didn't scream, not at first.
They just went still, their eyes widening, pupils dilating until only black filled their sockets.
Then, whimpers escaped their lips, escalating into choked gasps and finally, full-blown, hysterical sobs.
It was a silent torture, a mental assault that left no physical mark but ravaged their consciousness.
Akari saw them flailing, their bodies spasming, but they were held immobile not by physical force, but by sheer psychic agony.
She could hear their fragmented, broken whispers.
"No… please… make it stop… the darkness… the voices…"
The eldritch entity wasn't inflicting pain, not as Akari understood it.
It was showing them… something.
Perhaps it was forcing them to confront the echoes of their own cruelty, amplified to an unbearable degree.
Perhaps it was peeling back the layers of their reality, exposing the meaningless void that stretched beyond human comprehension.
Whatever it was, it was breaking them down, shattering their minds into fragments of gibbering madness.
Akari, despite her own terror, felt a strange shift within her fear.
Initially, it was pure, unadulterated panic.
But as she watched the abusers crumble, something else began to stir – a cold, detached satisfaction.
These men who had threatened her, who had sought to violate her, were now experiencing a torment far beyond anything she could have imagined.
It wasn't revenge she felt, not exactly.
It was… balance.
The scales of justice, cosmic and terrifying, were tipping.
After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only minutes, the entity ceased its mental assault.
The abusers collapsed onto the wet pavement, shuddering wrecks of men as their eyes were vacant, unfocused as their minds shattered beyond repair.
They would never be the same. They would likely never understand what had happened, only be haunted by the fractured echoes of cosmic horror.
The eldritch entity then turned to Akari.
It's shifting, non-Euclidean form seemed to… soften as the pulsating darkness stilled somewhat.
One of the tendrils, thicker than her torso but strangely delicate, extended towards her.
It wasn't a hand, not even close.
It was more like a limb grown from a living shadow, textured with impossible patterns and shimmering with an inner light that wasn't light at all.
Akari's breath hitched in her throat as the fear warred with a nascent, bewildering curiosity.
She should run.
Every instinct screamed at her to flee.
This was not a savior in any human sense.
This was something… other.
Something that had just inflicted unimaginable psychic torment.
And yet… it had saved her.
It had intervened.
And now, it offered… something.
Hesitantly and trembling in fear, she reached out as her fingers brushed against the alien appendage.
It wasn't cold, nor warm but just…neutral.
Like touching the absence of sensation, yet feeling the presence of immense power.
As her hand connected with the tendril, a wave of… something… flowed through her.
It wasn't unpleasant.
It was… information.
Impressions, like the images that flickered at the edge of her conscious mind, becoming too vast and complex to fully grasp.
She felt… seen and understood.
Not as Akari, the librarian, but as… a point of consciousness in a vast, indifferent universe.
And then, a strange calmness settled over her.
The fear didn't vanish entirely, but it receded, replaced by an almost surreal sense of peace.
She looked up at the shifting form of the entity, and for the first time, she saw not just terror, but… something else.
Something akin to curiosity, or perhaps even… loneliness.
Reflected in those impossible eyes, she saw not malice, but an alien awareness, vast and unknowable, yet somehow… present.
A smile, small and tentative, touched Akari's lips.
It was a smile of pure, bewildered wonder.
A human, offering a smile to a being from beyond the stars, a creature of nightmares and cosmic indifference.
It was absurd.
It was impossible.
And yet, in the rain-swept alleyway, beneath the flickering streetlight, it felt… right.
"Thank you," She whispered, her voice barely audible above the rain as the words seemed inadequate, ludicrously small in the face of such unimaginable power.
But she had to say something in order to acknowledge this impossible, terrifying, and strangely…comforting presence.
The tendril pulsed gently in response.
From the entity, a flicker of… understanding?
It seemed to emanate such a thought yet it was hard to tell, to interpret the actions of something so utterly alien.
But in the silence that followed, Akari felt a connection forming, fragile as spun glass, yet undeniably there.
This was the beginning of something utterly bizarre, something unimaginable.
A librarian, rescued by an eldritch abomination from the depths of cosmic night.
A human, offering a smile to a being that dwelled beyond human comprehension.
A budding relationship, born from terror and wonder, against all odds, against all reason.
Akari didn't know where it would lead, what form this connection would take.
But as she stood there, hand resting on the alien tendril, a strange sense of hope bloomed in her chest.
Whatever it was, it was something… and even she, Akari, lost in the quiet corners of the world, deserved something.
Even if that something was a romance with a being that defied reality itself, a love story written in the language of starlight and shadows, a tale she would never have dared to dream, yet now, with a trembling smile, dared to live.
Anymore ideas and let me know in the comments below.
As always...
Ciao...