Prologue Finale: Fateless Gospel
Xanothos
"Fate is not a cage except for those who fear it."
- Location
- The Space Between Words
Prologue Finale: Fateless Gospel
As I watched a pissed-off nekoshou sadistically toy with a high-level Fallen who had dared to lay hands on her little sister, I came to the frankly epiphanic conclusion that today was a fucking disaster.
First, said high-level Fallen jackass destroys an airport and kidnaps Asia Argento. Then, when a couple of unlikely allies and I (seriously, who the fuck replaced Freed Selzen's personality with an ironically unholy amalgamation of Alexander Anderson and pre-corruption Kirei Kotomine?) went to confront him, it turned out that the jackass was Mastema. As in an actual, named Fallen Angel from the Bible.
We were outclassed from the start. And then I'd gone and used up entirely too much energy when I—
I almost fell back through my hole in the wall for the third time in a few dozen seconds, staggering during a wave of nausea. Whether I regretted ending Raynare's life or not, this was an awful feeling.
'Mom always did believe that ending the life of another sapient being was an act that would scar the soul.'
Your mother was wiser than you know, my partner of a heart not-so-white.
The Count continued to speak as I grabbed the wall and steadied myself, grimacing as my vision swam.
Even as I speak, my – no, our Pitch-Black Flames of Vengeance are engraving a sigil of memory and proof onto your heart of hearts. An immortal reminder of the Vengeance that you have reaped.
So long as that mark remains meaningful—as you long as you remember that the taking of a life is never an act to treat as light—your heart of black will become an Avenger...and not a Beast.
I threw off a shudder as he said the final word. For some reason, that term made me feel...cold.So long as that mark remains meaningful—as you long as you remember that the taking of a life is never an act to treat as light—your heart of black will become an Avenger...and not a Beast.
A particularly loud bang to my immediate right snapped me back into my present, reminding me once more that I really needed to stop spacing out in the middle of things before it got me killed.
Kuroka was still cradling her sister to her chest, but around her purple sigils appeared and disappeared between one moment and the next, lashing out at Mastema with writhing tendrils that were only visible from the way they distorted space. One such tendril yanked Mastema toward Kuroka even as several others snapped into being around his midsection, binding his arms and wings to his sides.
The kick that Kuroka then landed lit up the room like a comet dropping through the atmosphere and I realised that must be Touki. Bound and drawn towards Kuroka as he was, Mastema could only bend double to vomit blood and bile as the nekoshou followed her kick with a knee to his already battered abdomen.
Even as the Tempter of God was recovering, Kuroka vanished in a ripple of space and appeared above his head. Her heel gleamed with brilliant purple light as it came down on Mastema's head, driving it almost a foot into the concrete floor and shattering the surrounding material.
Approaching the crater, Kuroka paused to finally set her unconscious, wounded sister to the side. Then she reached down into the shattered ground and pulled Mastema up by his throat, her slim, clawed fingers wrapped around his neck as she didn't even seem to strain.
"When I'm through with you," The Sage purred maliciously, "you'll be begging for the release of death." She considered him. "But I won't grant it. You'll live on…" Her grip suddenly tightened. "As a testament to what happens when you lay a hand on my SISTER!"
I took that as my moment to start making my way toward Koneko when the other two were preoccupied.
That was a mistake, and it kicked off a chain of events that only took a few seconds to complete.
Kuroka's feral gaze snapped to me as I took my first stumbling step, and I instantly froze in my tracks.
As the SS-Class Stray Devil turned her focus on me, a tendril of distorted space snapped into being around me, Dantes' powers already reacting to the idea of being 'confined'.
Mastema, taking advantage of her distraction, pulled himself from her grip – heedless of the long gashes torn in his throat from her claws.
A rift of Light appeared immediately behind him the moment he was free. Willowy arms in white robes lined with crimson caught him as he slumped, the eight coal-black wings of the golden-blond Fallen behind him flaring from behind a dancer's build.
A coil of coruscating steel-grey Light shot from beneath the newcomer's robe, wrapped around the waist of an unconscious Mittelt and reeled her in. A second lashed out for Dohnaseek, but was intercepted by Freed in a streak of Light, the former Exorcist lashing out with a fist that gleamed with white-gold Light at the encroaching whip.
Liquid steel forged by an Angel's soul clashed with the hand of a mere man.
The hand lost.
But the man didn't move.
Freed flinched as the grey Light pierced through his aura and his arm, but he still stood firm. The newcomer went to attack again, but almost as one Kuroka and I lashed out at him. Well actually, I lashed out at him – Kuroka aimed for Mastema.
The Fallen clicked his tongue in aggravation and hurled himself back through the rift behind him, Mastema and Mittelt dragged alongside. The Flames of Vengeance were only an inch behind them when the tear in reality snapped shut.
There was a momentary silence. Then Kuroka rounded on me, her eyes burning with an unearthly light.
I was standing between her and Koneko.
Franky, I'd rather be standing on top of Krakatoa at t-minus no seconds, but I held my ground.
"Move aside, odd little man," Kuroka commanded. "I will be taking my sister with me. You're only alive because you're trying to protect her." Her eyes narrowed. It had roughly the same effect on my composure as a missile lock flashing green. "Don't make me change my mind."
I swallowed, but shook my head. If I could stall her long enough, maybe I could buy the ORC enough time to arrive and get Koneko awa—
There was a finger on my head.
Kuroka stood behind me, Koneko cradled in her arms. "Sleep."
I did.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Freed regarded the yokai that had just rendered his nominal ally unconscious with a wary gaze, standing between her and a cross. The cross that held the kindest, most understanding girl he'd ever met.
The cross that held the love his life.
The SS-Class 'Stray Cat' Kuroka was known to him, as she was known to every Exorcist that graduated their gruelling training. Freed that even if he used that he would only be able to hold her for a moment or two, and that was a generous estimate.
By the way the woman stared knowingly at the cross behind him and the girl who hung limply from its chains, Freed knew. He knew that, should he attempt to get in the way of her escaping with the person who mattered to her the most in the world, even if only for a moment, Kuroka would have no problem striking at the person who mattered most to him.
It truly pained him to allow the Stray to take Gremory's Rook; aside from the Ruin Princess herself, Koneko Toujou had been the member of her household who had shown him the most kindness, in her own quiet, subdued way.
In this case, however? He had to choose between fighting a battle he knew he couldn't win and thereby risking the safety of his beloved Asia, or standing aside from the Sage that was staring at him and not giving the incredibly powerful woman a reason to lash out at him.
And that was just no choice at all.
Freed gave her only a measured look before he turned pointedly away. He felt yet another burden drop heavy on his neck, another pendant for the necklace of guilt, but still severed the chains that held Asia aloft with a single slash of his Light sword. Before the girl could fall she was already in his arms.
The former Exorcist knelt as he cradled her small form gently, holding her with all the care he had to give. Feeling her even, though shallow, breaths on his cheek was enough to lift his tension, or at least a great deal of it. The Fallen hadn't had time to complete the ritual.
He paid the faint noise of Kuroka's portal no mind as he held the woman he loved to his chest.
However, his moment of snatched peace was not to last.
Moments after Kuroka departed, the pounding of several sets of feet approached the demolished hideout.
First on the scene was Rias, who took in the injured form of her Queen and the unconscious man who'd burned Raynare to nothingness in her first sweep of the room. There was enough intensity in her eyes that the bespectacled pair of Sona Sitri and Tsubaki Shinra barely registered to the—admittedly distracted—former Exorcist.
Her turquoise gaze landed on him after only a moment. "Father Selzen! Where is Koneko?" Rias demanded, with perhaps more force than necessary. Freed couldn't blame her for it, though. Rias Gremory was many things, but foremost amongst those things was a protector of her family.
"...I didn't know that your Rook was the Stray Cat's little sister, Miss Gremory," he told her.
His voice was quiet, and his words apparently a non-sequitur – but Rias wasn't stupid. Her already pale complexion faded further as the words sank in. "You don't mean to say that Kuroka has taken her?!"
The redhead's expression was a picture of despair, and Freed gently laid Asia to one side before he hung his head in an attempt to distract her. "I am sorry, Miss Gremory," he rasped, his throat filled up with guilt and sorrow alike. "I knew there was no way I could hold that monster of a woman off, but I didn't even try; I couldn't, not with the woman I love at risk."
Rias had paced over to Akeno and laid a hand on her arm. From the way the energies in the room shifted, Freed guessed that she was sharing her Demonic Energy with her Queen so that the brunette could recover more quickly.
As the King with brilliant crimson hair tended to her friend and confidant, she regarded Freed with an expression that betrayed the conflict in her heart. "...I want to be angry at you. To lash out, to blame you, Father Selzen," Rias bit out, clearly choosing her words carefully. "However, had our positions been reversed – had it been one of my precious household under threat by someone stealing away your loved one?" Rias let out a weary sigh, the corners of her eyes glinting wetly. "I'd have done the same thing."
Freed simply nodded and raised his head, his gaze shifting to the prone brunet who was just starting to stir.
"That guy," Freed muttered, just loudly enough to be heard. "He didn't stand aside even in the face of his likely death. Even if it was a suicidal decision...I can't help but respect that conviction, that devotion to a friend." He turned to Rias. "You're lucky to have such a loyal Contracted Magician, Miss Gremory."
Rias' chuckle was so hollow that it could have swallowed the sun. "Johan-kun isn't a Contracted Magician of mine, not even close. In fact, we've barely known another for more than two weeks." She shrugged. "But it seems that in spite of that short time, they've bonded incredibly quickly."
Freed nodded distractedly, his eyes pulled to the now-identified Johan, who was struggling to sit up, an eerie glow flashing beneath his skin from time to time as he moved. The man was mumbling something under his breath that Freed barely managed to catch.
It was a shame he didn't speak French. Otherwise, he'd have known what to make of the mumbled phrase.
[Wait, and Hope]
"Attendre, Espérer."
"Attendre, Espérer."
In hindsight, the azure light that engulfed Johan's body was a pretty good clue.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After I woke up and healed most of my injuries with Avenger's second Noble Phantasm, things turned hectic rather quickly.
Asia regained consciousness shortly after I did and set about healing Freed, Akeno and Dohnaseek without a word of complaint. In fact, if I hadn't pointed out that I could heal myself and let her work on the others, she would have healed me too and not spared a thought for her own ordeal. 'Honestly, that girl is something else.'
Indeed. And to think I called your heart White.
That child...truly, I don't know which I should hope for. That her heart should remain pure and faithful, a shining bulwark of salvation and a salve for those lucky enough to be in ignorance of the bleakness of man? Or for her to confront the darkness within us all, becoming blemished by it, but in doing so, inuring herself against the howling Dark?
Both options leave a foul taste in my mouth.
I sighed. 'People of her quality are rare indeed. It would be a waste to have it ruined, though in this darker side of the world it may well be an inevitability.'That child...truly, I don't know which I should hope for. That her heart should remain pure and faithful, a shining bulwark of salvation and a salve for those lucky enough to be in ignorance of the bleakness of man? Or for her to confront the darkness within us all, becoming blemished by it, but in doing so, inuring herself against the howling Dark?
Both options leave a foul taste in my mouth.
The Count's feelings were of affirmation, but neither of us commented on that subject further. Instead, I drew my attention to the twisted, wretched husk that had once been the Fallen Angel Kalawarner.
I shuddered in revulsion, and not a small amount of rage. This...was an atrocity, a violation of mind, body and soul on the absolutely fundamental level. (It wouldn't occur to me until later to wonder how I knew these things, as rattled by events as I was.)
My anger and disgust and many other things all burned in my heart every moment I saw her, and I could feel the way they fed the powers of the Avenger Class. My tenant was of a mind with me, even more than usual, both disgusted and enraged by the senseless monstrosity that had been passed off as a 'just punishment' for some supposed treason.
So when I demanded 'Can we save her?', I knew the Count was truthful when he replied.
Not even Attendre, Espérer has the means to heal someone so fundamentally broken and violated. We could reverse the transformation for a few seconds only, just enough time to grant her the merciful peace of death, rather than the eternity of solitude and torment that awaits her now.
I swore under my breath, clenching my fists in fruitless anger. 'That's… GODDAMNIT!'
All this potential—the powers of a Legendary Spirit at my fingertips—and all I could do was helplessly rage against being stuck with two utterly wretched options.
I was so busy with self-recriminations and anger that when a hand came down on my shoulder I leapt almost a foot into the air, spinning towards the toucher with a hand that bore dark flame.
I recognised the bedraggled but now-whole Dohnaseek after only a moment, even as my heart was trying to catapult itself out of my ribcage, and it clicked that he'd backed up several paces and raised his hands to show they were empty.
Why people kept doing that was beyond me.
The Flames of Rage wreathing my fist flickered out and I slumped, the sheer exhaustion of being angry so long catching up with me. "Sorry," I mumbled, "I'm a bit on edge."
Dohnaseek let out a snort. "I can't imagine why," he remarked, his voice dry enough to turn the Sahara green with envy. Then the dapper Fallen's eyes turned to what was left of his former comrade, and his expression flattened.
I knew he had to be burying how he felt about the situation. I knew that it would be terribly rude to ask about it. But I'd had enough of today's shit, and politeness and propriety could go and fuck themselves with the same anthrax-covered spade. "Is there any way she can be healed?" I asked bluntly, shattering Dohnaseek's calm facade like glass.
The man took a deep, shuddering breath, then spoke quietly. "The only one who could've reversed the Stygian Quietus...has long since passed from this world." He shook his head. "The only thing that could spare her now would be the vaunted bloodline of the House of Bael." He shot a look at Rias. "Her skill with it wouldn't be sufficient to break through the Light ravaging Kalawarner's body and soul, though."
He shook his head and gave a wry chuckle. "It's hopeless. The only one who could grant her the dubious mercy of uncreation with any degree of certainty would be the Lucifer, and what reason would he have to go out of his way to give that to a Fallen, especially one who'd been allied against his sister?"
"He'd do it if I asked him."
Rias' voice was weary and strained, and when we turned to look at her it was plain to see that her composure had long passed 'fraying at the seams' and gone into full-on collapse. Worry was etched into her every muscle.
"That won't be necessary," I said quietly. "I can't heal her, but the spirit within me believes that we can revert this vile metamorphosis long enough to grant her the mercy of death."
The line between Avenger and myself had begun to blur again – our emotions were too similar to stop it completely. But we could keep our autonomy and maintain our own consciousnesses, even if only through sheer determination and a stubborn defiance.
Dohnaseek looked at me with no small amount of trepidation, then visibly steeled himself. "Do it...but I'll be the one to end her suffering." A single tear traced down the path of his left cheek as he looked at her, but he didn't seem to notice. "I owe her that much, at least."
I nodded, then knelt before Kalawarner's twisted, damaged husk, feeling the violent and ferocious rage which her Light had turned upon her.
I placed a hand on her head, and I invoked the Noble Phantasm once more.
[Wait, and Hope]
"Attendre, Espérer."
"Attendre, Espérer."
Fueled by our incandescent, howling rage at the injustice of it all, Kalawarner's body slowly began untwisting itself. Her eyes became wild with panic and pain, and she began to writhe and thrash beneath my hand. The only reason she didn't throw me off completely was the fact that she was literally hanging onto her life by a single strand of Hope.
Dohnaseek, a cobalt knife of Light in hand, knelt beside her and took her hand. He leaned forward and whispered a few words in her ear – I wasn't sure what, but she stilled almost immediately, then stared into his eyes.
"Do it," she whispered.
She didn't drop his gaze until the dagger sank into the back of her neck, killing her instantly.
Nausea welled up within me, and I stumbled away from the scene before I emptied my stomach in a corner.
One part of my brain calmly noted that my response to merely assisting in the euthanizing of a doomed woman was significantly more dramatic than my response to literally burning someone to subatomic particles.
The rest of my mind and a good portion of my gut's response was to kick that part of my brain in the metaphorical dick and tell it to shut the fuck up.
After vomiting one more time I felt a pair of small hands press gently into my back and, while the self-hate and nausea didn't vanish, they were dulled somewhat. The urge to vomit a third time subsided completely.
With a shaky gesture, I managed to conjure my dimensional pocket's mandala, and with a thought towards what I needed I pulled a napkin and a bottle of water from its depths.
After rinsing my mouth several times and wiping the bile and spittle from my lips, I turned to the girl who'd eased my suffering. Thinking back on the couple of words I'd actually bothered to learn in Italian, I inclined my head to her and said "Grazie."
My pronunciation was undoubtedly dreadful, but the radiant smile I got in response was worth embarrassing myself.
"Don't worry, mister," Asia reassured me in English, "I speak English. It's Japanese that I'm clueless with." Her feelings over that were clear from her pout.
…
Between her and Koneko, I'd be dead by Type-Moe Diabetes before I hit thirty.
Unfortunately, I wasn't fully able to appreciate Asia's adorability. Not when Kuroka had taken Koneko and we had no way to get her back.
And that is where you are wrong.
I turned my attention inward.
They have no way to track them, the young cat or the black cat both. I, however, can use the residual energy from the black cat's spell to track her.
Thus, the question then becomes…
Why should I?
I gritted my teeth. 'If this is one of your tests, Dantes, I'll not be pleased. This is no time for games.'Thus, the question then becomes…
Why should I?
There was a beat of silence.
Then my passenger's voice came again, and this time there was a depth of ice to it that I had never experienced before.
Dare you attribute the name of that milquetoast to me again, BOY, and you shall regret it.
My hand flew to my head, pressing against my temple as I swallowed the urge to groan. I felt like I had a shard of ice lodged in my brain.
...That said, you have a point.
I know less of the dynamic between those two than you, but I can tell that this is not the path to a proper resolution of their estrangement or the injustice that plagues them.
I cannot blame this 'Kuroka' for stealing back her sister from people she clearly sees as captors.
Turn your mind away from your mope, boy. Your position is no different from any other's in the world; your situation is not ideal, but that means only that it falls on you to make the best of it with the tools you have at hand.
And of the many tools in the hands of man, my teachings are always a potent aid.
And of the many tools in the hands of man, my teachings are always a potent aid.
With his usual cackle, Avenger withdrew from the conversation, leaving me to ponder his words and consider my next move.
While I was standing there, a puddle of vomit on my right and a corpse on my left, Rias' words drifted to my ears. "...could do that, I would be in your debt, and the House of Gremory always repays its debts handsomely."
The small, blonde ex-nun looked at Rias with a small smile. "I don't need you to pay me for helping somebody, Miss Gremory. Especially since you put your people in danger to help Freed." Her smile faded. "Especially since one of your people was kidnapped because I was too wea—"
Her words were interrupted when Rias pushed a finger against her lips. "I know you think you're to blame," she began. I'm sure everyone here is blaming themselves for one thing or another." She took a shaky breath. "But if we just stand here pointing fingers, there won't be any justice for that woman—" she jerked a thumb at Kalawarner's corpse, "—and Koneko...Koneko...Koneko will remain lost!"
Rias was visibly holding back tears, and it almost broke my heart to see. Someone who was normally so full of spirit and life teetering so obviously on the edge of despair? It was enough to firm anyone's resolve, and I was no different as my doubts disappeared like morning mist.
Despite my sympathy for Kuroka's plight.
Despite the fact that I couldn't possibly defeat her.
Kuroka's actions were tearing apart the people who'd taken me in upon my arrival in this world. Injustice of Kuroka being separated from her sister or not, I couldn't stand by and do nothing as my friends suffered, not while I had the means to even attempt to make the slightest difference.
I stepped forward and looked at Rias. "You can track someone's location if they have one of your fliers, right?"
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After Johan's shocking declaration and abrupt departure to pursue an opponent far above his means, Freed and Asia had accompanied the Gremory heiress back to her base so that Asia could heal the Light poisoning Kiba had been afflicted with by Raynare.
Freed had been ready for a fight when the Knight of Gremory had laid eyes on him, but Asia had swooped in and laid her hands on Kiba's festering wound.
Shockingly, even though the marks of her former affiliation were plain to see, Kiba did not treat Asia with any resentment or anger. Though, Freed mused, he supposed that shouldn't exactly surprise him; after all, she'd managed to soothe the savage beast within him with but nine words, after all. By comparison, a survivor of the Holy Sword Project would be even less likely to resent one such as her.
After a few minutes of grueling work (the Light had managed to spread a surprising amount, considering Raynare's specialties and lack of power), Asia straightened, bowed to Rias and Kiba in turn, then made for the door, catching Freed's hand in hers as she passed. Freed was struck dumb for a moment by her uncharacteristic boldness, but followed her quickly as she tugged on his hand.
The cassocked duo had gone almost halfway from the Academy to the church when something broke him from that dumbness.
They had stepped onto an empty side-road, and they had barely begun walking down it when a buzzing in the back of Freed's head made him step forward, pushing Asia behind him as he palmed his Light sword.
A slender youth with black hair and violet eyes stepped from the shadows. A demure smile covered his face as he addressed Asia. "Do you remember me, dear one?"
Freed didn't know who this Devil was, but he could feel the presence of several more surrounding them, so he snapped, "Cut the shit; we've had a long day. Tell your Peerage to show themselves."
The boy closed his eyes and sighed, his polite mask discarded in favor of an expression of utter disdain. "How droll; a competent member of the Church for a change." He snapped his fingers, saying, "Though, I suppose it'd be 'former member of the Church', if you're with this slut."
From the shadows came several nuns, each with eyes that were roughly as expressive as those of a fish several weeks dead. They arrayed themselves almost robotically, surrounding Freed and Asia while remaining just outside melee range.
The boy let out a manic giggle. "Soon you'll be all mine, little Asia!"
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The sunrise is generally accepted as being a beautiful sight.
When your eyes feel like they're covered in sand, you've been running all night and you're half-frantic with worry, it's just a sign of how long it's been since you got to work.
It turns out that when you can draw strength from negative emotions, being half-depressed, half-panicked and completely pissed was a good thing. My time wouldn't have been half as good if I was even close to a well-adjusted human being.
Thank God I wasn't.
In the distance before me, the temples of Kyoto loomed. Somewhere within that city, a precious friend and little-sister figure waited, being kept from the people who had been there for her, who had more or less raised her.
I felt for Kuroka. I really did. But this wasn't the way to go about doing things.
'I hope I can convince her of that. If not…' I patted my pocket, reassuring myself that the flyer was still there. 'Well. Then things will get extremely complicated.'
My partner, you have a miraculous gift for understatement.
The Count's raucous laughter echoed in my head as I continued my run towards Kyoto. 'I'm coming for you, Koneko.
'Just wait for me.'
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________AN: Well, this chapter was heavy. It's never fun to have unpleasant things happen to the characters you care about, but such is the burden of an author. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.
Edit: Removed mention of an ill conceived plot device.
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