The peace conference room felt less like a historic summit and more like a dysfunctional family reunion nobody asked for.
Devil side: Sirzechs Lucifer lounged in crimson, radiating effortless charisma that bordered on weaponized.
Beside him, Serafall Leviathan twirled a pen like a magic wand, humming an idol tune in full magical-girl regalia.
Grayfia stood sentinel by the tea cart, maid uniform pristine, expression a polite sheet of ice.
Sirzechs and Serafall. Rias and Sona. The resemblance was almost insulting. Softcore dictator big bro, spoiled little sis. Then the magical-girl gremlin counterpart to the strict, glasses-wearing student council president.
It was like the universe had a template for "Gremory-Sitri sibling dynamic" and just copy-pasted it across generations.
Angels: Michael radiating so much forgiveness from a mile it was intoxicating, next to a white-winged girl whose beauty made even Aphrodite look mortal.
Hyoudou's eyes kept darting her way. Down, boy.
Fallen Angels: Azazel grinning like the universe's most irresponsible uncle; Vali, already bored, mentally calculating how many people could die before lunch.
The Occult Research Club seated near our end of the table like bodyguards who forgot their lines. Rias sat rigid, clearly screaming internally about family crashing her school life. Asia whispered prayers. Koneko lounged, Kiba recalculated his life choices. Xenovia crossed her arms, bored.
Hyoudou—hormone battlefield in human form—split his attention between the Angel girl and Serafall's skirt hem, survival instinct barely winning.
Sona's council looked equally miserable—lined up like they'd been dragged here at gunpoint.
"This is…," Haruka whispered.
"No comment," I said.
And then I felt it.
Every pair of eyes in the room shifted toward us at once.
Azazel was the first to break the silence, grin widening like he'd just unveiled a new toy.
"These," he announced, spreading a hand toward us with theatrical flair, "are my allies. The Hero of Nagano… and his merry band of friends."
He sounded almost proud. Almost.
Sirzechs flinched—barely. A crack in the composure.
I wasn't supposed to be here. Not like this. Not in his script.
Michael's gaze was worse.
Not wary or hostile, but… sorrowful.
Like he knew something about me he wasn't allowed to say.
"I'm like, hey, what's up, hello~," I sang under my breath, dragging out the Trap Queen hook in blatant mockery.
A few blinks. One twitch from Grayfia. Worth it.
I straightened, smile easy.
"I'm Kokonoe Takashi. With Midorikawa Suzuka and Yamamoto Haruka."
I gestured lightly between us.
"And we're here to step up where the current factions don't give a fuck."
I said with a cheerful tone, dripping with venom.
Suzuka nudged me, gently, concern in her eyes.
"Kokonoe-kun…," she said softly.
Haruka grinned.
"He's right, you know?~," she said, voice sing-song.
Serafall froze mid-twirl, pen raised like a wand, then burst into delighted squeals.
"Kyaa~! So spicy! Rias-chan, your stray puppy has fangs!" She winked at me, eyes gleaming. "I like him already~!"
That was the most gaslighting shit ever.
"Course you do, budget Madoka-chan" I muttered.
Sona snickered like she couldn't help it, before catching herself.
Grayfia's stepped closer to Sirzechs, like a silent warning.
Michael flinched slightly, wings folding, sorrow lingering in his gaze.
Azazel laughed, loud and genuine. "Kid's got balls. You're staying—my kind of trouble now."
Rias and Sona looked at me like I complicated the discussion just by opening my mouth.
Sirzechs's polite smile stayed flawless, crimson eyes calm, measured, almost gentle.
"Kokonoe Takashi," he said, smooth as aged wine. "My sister's Rook. Or… what remains of one, I suppose."
A faint, knowing curve touched his lips.
"It's good to see you've found your voice. Though stray devils who speak out of turn tend to find themselves… corrected. Quickly."
I yawned.
"My Evil Piece broke. I'm human. And sure, devils excel at crimes against humanity—but killing one at a peace conference? That's low, even for the Usurper of the Underworld."
Sirzechs's smile didn't crack. Crimson eyes calm, almost kind—the mask of someone used to crossing lines.
"Human or not," he said, smooth as wine, "power recognizes power. Disrespect… recognizes consequence."
He leaned forward slightly.
"You act like the Rook title was your only chain. Chains come in many forms—some forged by others, some by ourselves. Break one, another waits. I'd hate for you to learn that the hard way. Especially with so many caring whether you live or die."
I looked at him flatly.
"I'm a reincarnated anomaly. You kill me, chances are I'll come back as a shadow and murder you in your sleep," I said.
Sirzechs's smile held, but something in his eyes shifted—just a flicker, like a candle flame catching a draft.
He exhaled softly, a hint of amusement in the gesture, leaning back with deliberate slowness.
"A shadow that murders Maou in their sleep," he murmured, voice low, thoughtful, as if savoring the notion. "That would be… inconve—"
"Onii-sama! Stop it!" Rias' sharp voice cut through the room.
Sirzechs blinked once—genuinely surprised. The gentle mask flickered, replaced for a heartbeat by something raw: a big brother caught off-guard by his little sister's fury.
Rias didn't wait.
"This is a conference," she said, voice trembling but steel beneath it. "Not a courtroom. And he"—she jerked her head without looking at me—"is not your stray devil to threaten. His Piece broke. He answers to no one here. If you want to 'correct' him, you'll have to go through me first."
The words landed heavier than any magic circle.
Serafall's pen froze mid-twirl.
Azazel's grin widened, delighted.
Michael's sorrowful gaze shifted to Rias—proud, almost relieved.
Grayfia's eyes narrowed, but she didn't move.
Azazel spoke up.
"Like I said, the boy is my ally. Any action against him risks retaliation from the Grigori."
Sirzechs cleared his throat, crimson eyes flicking away from me.
"Very well… regarding the recent developments in Kuoh…" he said, voice smooth, measured.
"Let us proceed with the matter at hand."
I stayed quiet, letting the clown show play out—no need to say something that'd get me killed.
Sirzechs leaned back slightly, his polite smile still in place, crimson eyes calm and measured.
"Azazel. After hearing this report, I want the opinion of the Governor of the Fallen Angels."
Every gaze in the room shifted to the black-haired man lounging in his chair like he'd rather be anywhere else. Azazel let out an stupid grin, scratching the back of his head.
"Regarding the mess a few days back… Kokabiel, one of our central Grigori leaders, kept quiet to me and the others. Acted on his own. His current whereabouts are unknown, but he's built quite the following inside our organisation. And now he's cosy with Gabor LaVey, head of the Oblivion Syndicate. That puts everyone at risk—devils, fallen, angels, humans, the whole damn board."
Michael sighed, wings folding a little tighter.
"As for the explanation, it's the worst kind… but I know you personally never wanted anything large-scale against us. Is that true?"
Yeah. Leave it to these geniuses to miss the point: if LaVey gets his way, we're all fucked.
What's the difference between the Three Factions and the UN Security Council? Absolutely none.
Azazel snorted. "Aah, I don't give a shit about wars. When Kokabiel started badmouthing me too, you've got that report as well, right?"
He had. Kokabiel had trashed his own bosses, obsessed with Sacred Gears and little else. Sirzechs's gaze sharpened.
"Azazel. One question. Why have you been gathering Sacred Gear possessors for decades? At first we thought you were building human forces to wage war on Heaven or us, but…"
"Yeah," Michael-san added quietly. "When we heard you secured the Vanishing Dragon, the wariness was… strong."
Azazel's grin turned bitter.
"Sacred Gear research. That's it. If that's the problem, I'll send you the materials. I'm not waging war on anyone. I don't have any interest in it at this point. I'm perfectly satisfied with the world as it is. I've even ordered my subordinates: 'Don't fuck with human politics.' No religion meddling either. No business in devil affairs. Damn, is my trust level really this low with the Three Factions?"
Sirzechs exhaled through his nose.
"That's true."
"That's right," Michael-san murmured.
"That's exactly it☆," Serafall chirped, twirling her pen like nothing was wrong.
Their agreement landed in perfect sync.
Azazel just shrugged, still grinning like the universe owed him a drink.
"At least you rebuilt Nagano, unlike the Devil leadership—which, again, couldn't be bothered to give a shit," I chimed in.
Shock tore through the room.
Suzuka and Haruka's eyes darkened, hands clutching mine like anchors.
"I have a question for the Maou," I said, voice even but cutting. "Was the delay personal? Retaliation against me—for defending it when no one else would, for acting outside orders?"
For a split second, Sirzechs stiffened—then the mask returned.
"No. The delay was not punitive," he said evenly. "Oblivion targeted several noble estates in the Underworld—a lot of casualties, no survivors. We believe LaVey is testing our response time… and our unity."
His gaze held steady.
"Nagano was caught in that same strain—divided priorities, stretched resources. It was not retaliation. I regret that it seemed otherwise." A brief pause. "And I thank you—for acting when others did not."
This was bigger than I thought. Cooperation wasn't optional anymore—it was mandatory.
The girls flinched beside me.
"If every faction's under fire right now," I said quietly, "letting egos get in the way is a fast track to death. Divide et impera, amirite?"
I paused.
"Yet here we are… debating who counts as a stray and who doesn't. Spectacular. The UN had better luck stopping wars in Somalia and Palestine," I deadpanned.
Yeah. They felt the sting, but let it blow.
"The kid is right," Azazel said, stepping up. He turned to the faction leaders. "Then, let's make peace. Originally, wasn't that the intention of you Angels and Devils as well?"
Michael and Sirzechs agreed.
Michael actually smiled.
"I intended to propose the same," he admitted. "The war's original cause is gone. God and the Maou are no longer here."
The air tightened.
No one flinched at the word "God."
Which meant they already accepted it.
Azazel barked a short laugh.
"Look at you. Finally saying it out loud."
Michael didn't rise to it.
"We guide humanity. That hasn't changed."
Sirzechs folded his hands.
"If war begins again, Devils won't survive it."
Azazel nodded.
"And if we all go at it? Mutual extinction. Then humanity goes with us."
He spread his hands lazily.
"Do you think a world without God collapses?"
No one answered.
Azazel grinned.
"Sorry. It doesn't."
He leaned back.
"The world moves even without God."
Silence.
For a moment, no one spoke.
I was raised in Romania. Orthodoxy isn't just religion there — it's identity. My grandmother used to drag me to church in Brașov every Sunday, whether I wanted to go or not.
And now I'm sitting here, listening to angels calmly admit God is gone.
So Nietzsche was right.
Maybe that's how I keep functioning. Overpowered on paper. Still just… surviving. Like a low-budget Natsuki Subaru with better stats and worse coping.
"Now then, since the discussion has considerably been moving in a good direction, is it all right if we hear about the matter of Sekiryuutei-dono?" Azazel cut in.
Of course.
Give the pervert the mic and pray he doesn't embarrass himself.
Hyoudou turned to Asia for a split second, then fixed his eyes on Michael.
"Why did you exile her?"
Damn. Kid's got balls. Reminds me of me.
Michael inclined his head, voice soft and measured.
"I can only apologize for that. …After God was annihilated, only the System remained to govern divine protection, mercy, and miracles. Simply put, it's the mechanism God created to perform those acts above ground. Holy effects—exorcism, crosses, all of it—draw from the System's power now."
He said it gently, as if that explanation somehow erased centuries of the Church's crimes.
Classic.
I can separate faith from religion just fine.
What I can't stomach is the complete lack of agency it leaves everyone else with.
Hyoudou blinked, still trying to process it.
"After God died… some system trouble occurred… is what you're saying?"
Michael nodded, calm as ever.
"To be honest, it takes a heavy toll on anyone who uses it—except God Himself. With me at the center, the Seraphim managed to reboot the System somehow… but compared to when God was around, divine protection and mercy for believers are incomplete. Salvation is limited now. Unfortunate, but true."
So, the Watcher checking out left a power vacuum the size of a blackhole.
Figures.
"That's why we had to distance certain people tied to the Church—anyone who could destabilize the System. Sacred Gears that interfere qualify. Asia's Twilight Healing, for instance. Your Boosted Gear too, Hyoudou. And Divine Dividing."
Hyoudou frowned.
"Asia's included because she can heal Devils and Fallen Angels?"
Michael nodded again.
"Exactly. If a believer can heal enemies of Heaven, it erodes faith around her. Heaven runs on believers' faith. Twilight Healing is effectively forbidden because of that. And as another example of destabilizing influence—"
Xenovia cut in, flat.
"People who know God's dead, right?"
"Yes, Xenovia. Losing you was a blow to us, but if too many outside the Seraphim and select high-ranking angels learn the truth and get near a direct connection point… the System glitches hard. I'm sorry. We had no choice but to brand you and Asia heretics."
Michael actually bowed his head to them.
Damn. Never thought I'd live to see the Angel boss grovel. Marking this day on the calendar.
Asia and Xenovia just stared, stunned, like they didn't know what to do with an apology.
Xenovia recovered first, shaking her head with a small smile.
"No, Michael-sama. Please don't apologize. The Church raised me. I always sensed something was off, but knowing the reason… there's no point asking why."
"The fact that you became a Devil is our crime."
"It's fine. I regretted it at first, sure. But the things the Church forbade—the things I can do now—they color my days in ways I never expected. I might piss off other believers saying this, but… I'm satisfied with this life."
Xenovia is settling into Kuoh. Obviously. She's even getting cozy with Hyoudou, somehow.
Asia piped up, soft but earnest.
"Michael-sama, I'm happy too. I have so many important people now. And meeting you—the one I always admired—it's an honor!"
Poor Asia. Still pure even after everything.
Relief softened Michael's face.
"Thank you for your forgiving hearts. Xenovia, I entrust Durandal to you. Knowing it's with Sirzechs' sister's peerage puts me at ease—it won't fall into reckless hands."
I held Michael's gaze a second too long.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
I tilted my head slightly, tone flat enough to pass for polite.
"You know… I used to wear your name," I said. "Kinda regret that I did."
A faint pause.
Michael didn't snap back. Didn't look offended. If anything, something in his expression softened — not hurt, not anger. Recognition.
"I understand," he replied gently. "Names carry weight. Sometimes, they're given to us before we're ready to bear them."
He stopped and looked at me, gently. Like a father looking at the prodigal son.
"I hope, at the very least, it once meant something good to you."
So this is how you're gonna play it.
"It's the name my father gave me," I said evenly. "We had a complicated relationship. I think you know that. I noticed the way you kept looking at me during the conference."
I held his gaze.
"You saw it all, didn't you?"
Michael didn't deny it. He didn't look away, either.
"Yes," he answered, calm as ever. "I am aware of the circumstances surrounding your life and death."
I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, hot and insistent. I glanced sideways at Suzuka.
She squeezed my hand—gentle at first, then firmer, fingers threading through mine like she was bringing me back to earth.
Haruka shifted closer without a word. Her head settled against my shoulder, warm and steady, while her grip on my arm tightened, unyielding.
They weren't just holding on. They were holding me together.
I dragged my gaze back to Michael.
"Was it fun?" My voice cracked on the last word, raw and thin. "Watching all that?"
The room went still. Even the faint rustle of wings and fabric seemed to pause.
Michael didn't flinch. His expression didn't harden into defensiveness or soften into pity. It simply… stayed. Open. Quiet.
"No," he said, the single word soft but clear. "It was never fun."
He let the silence breathe for a heartbeat.
"I watched because turning away would have been worse. Because every moment you refused to break completely deserved to be witnessed. And you refused, Mihai. Through the pain, the rage, the choices that cut deepest—you refused to go dark entirely."
His eyes never left mine.
"I did not enjoy your suffering. I grieved it. And in the long hours when no one else could see, I hoped—futilely, perhaps—that someday you would understand the name was never a mockery. It was a quiet promise: that even the brightest fall, and even the fallen can stand again."
He glanced briefly at Suzuka and Haruka—their hands on me, their bodies a silent wall—then back.
"You were never unseen. And you are not alone in carrying what was placed on your shoulders."
The words settled like cool rain on fevered skin.
I swallowed. The tears didn't spill—not yet—but they stayed at the edge of my eyes, waiting for the right moment.
Suzuka's thumb brushed once across my knuckles.
Haruka pressed her cheek a fraction closer.
Michael leaned back slowly, folding his hands on the table.
"I will not ask you to forgive the name, or the father who gave it, or the heaven that failed to catch you. But if the day comes when you want to speak of it—without apology, without performance—my door remains open."
"You bet," I replied. "I've got some things to ask you. I hope you can answer me."
Michael inclined his head slightly — not triumphant, not wary.
Simply attentive.
"Then ask," he said, voice steady and unhurried. "If it is within my authority, I will answer plainly. If it is not… I will still answer honestly."
His gaze didn't waver.
"You have my word."
Yeah. Not the right place. It's kinda personal.
"In private," I replied.
Michael nodded.
In the meantime, Azazel's gaze slid to Asia. She noticed. Her whole body tensed.
Azazel spoke quietly.
"Seems my subordinates killed her without reporting it. I got the memo too."
Asia stayed quiet.
Hyoudou stepped in front of her anyway, shoulders stiff, jaw tight, staring Azazel down like he could win on stubbornness alone.
"That's right, Asia died once. E-Even I was killed by Fallen Angels, but above that, Asia! It may be something that occurred in a place you don't know, but the Fallen Angel girls who admired you killed Asia for your sake."
Kid really does wear his heart outside his body. It's reckless. It's loud.
It's… something I never let myself be.
Rias nudged him. "Calm down, Ise."
He shot her a quick apologetic look that clearly meant no.
Azazel didn't even flinch.
"It's true," he said casually. "We eliminate Sacred Gear users who might threaten us. That's strategy, not cruelty. You had power you couldn't control. That makes you dangerous. Dangerous things get removed."
Right.
Of course the Fallen Angel Governor would package preemptive murder as risk management.
And the worst part?
He was calm about it.
That sociopath is my ally.
Tell me who your friends are, and I'll tell you who you are.
…Yeah.
Yikes.
Hyoudou's fists tightened.
"Thanks to you, I'm a Devil."
Azazel shrugged.
"Do you hate it? From where I'm sitting, the people around you seem pretty glad you survived."
"I-I don't dislike it! Everyone is good to me, and I know I'm getting special treatment! But—!" Hyoudou blurted out, voice shaking.
He swallowed.
"Even if I apologise now, it's too late. So I want to do something only I can do… something that helps you stand on your own feet."
…Say Grandpa has zero compensation skill.
Azazel clapped once, amused. "Now then. Let's hear from those who could actually shake the world. The invincible Dragon-samas. Vali?"
Vali shrugged. "As long as I get to fight strong guys, I'm fine."
That's it?
You're okay with that answer? You seriously only care about combat? That's less an ideology and more a public safety issue.
Azazel's eyes slid to the other dragon kid.
"Then, Sekiryuutei?"
Hyoudou scratched his cheek. "Honestly, I don't really get it. There's too much complicated stuff. My head's a mess. And I'm busy looking after my junior Devil, so when you ask what I think about the world… I don't really have some big feelings about it."
Yeah.
The kid was even more clueless than I was.
Azazel leaned forward slightly.
"But you have power that can move the world. If you don't decide, those of us at the top can't move either."
He paused, staring straight at Hyoudou.
"Let me put it simply. If we go to war, you fight on the front lines. If that happens… you won't be able to sleep with Rias Gremory."
"…?!"
Hyoudou reacted like he'd just been handed a death sentence.
"If we make peace, no fighting. And what matters then? Continuation of the species. Prosperity. You could spend every day making children with Rias Gremory. Simple, right? War means no sex. Peace means sex whenever you want. Which do you choose?"
Yeah, Grandpa is having the time of his life.
"I choose peace! Peace! Definitely peace! I want to do ecchi things with Buchou!"
He said that.
With Rias' brother in the room.
Asia, Kiba, Koneko? They sighed like this was a scheduled weekly event. Rias turned red enough to qualify as a stop sign.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Haruka and Suzuka looked at me like I'd lost it.
"That's just how he is," I muttered under my breath. "He's not a bad kid. Just… aggressively hormonal."
Haruka snorted. "Please. Azazel's having the time of his life. Old man's edging him on like it's a hobby."
Suzuka's fingers tightened slightly around mine. "You talk about Hyoudou-kun like he matters to you," she said softly, careful. "Like… a friend."
Yeah.
Maybe.
Kiba offered Hyoudou a tight smile.
"Ise-kun… Sirzechs-sama is sitting right there."
Sirzechs actually laughed.
Hyoudou immediately started backpedaling, hands flailing like he could physically grab his dignity before it hit the floor. I used to live for moments like this.
"U-Um… I'm kinda an idiot, so ninety percent of what you're all saying is going over my head," he admitted, scratching his cheek.
"But the power inside me is strong, right? So I'll use it for my comrades. For Buchou, for Asia, for Akeno-san… for everyone. If they're in trouble, I'll protect them."
He hesitated, then added, quieter—
"I'm still weak. I know that. But even if I have to risk my life… I'll live alongside them."
Yeah. That's what pulls people toward him like glue, despite the weaponized hormones.
The second he finished, a strong aura tore through my nerves.
Vampiric… Romanian.
There was no mistaking it. Gasper.
My body locked for half a beat before I forced myself to move. Yeah, that's a time-stop.
I scanned the room.
Michael was by the window, calm as ever. Sirzechs and Azazel had gone sharp—no smiles now. Leviathan, Grayfia, Vali—moving. Of course the monsters at the top could push through it.
"Oh," Azazel muttered, glancing my way. "Frost boy's back."
"What the fuck happened?"
The room split in two—those frozen mid-breath, and those still breathing.
Most of the club was locked in place.
Rias could move.
Hyoudou, Kiba and Xenovia too.
I looked right.
Suzuka blinked, confused—but moving.
Haruka—
Frozen solid.
"Kokonoe-kun…," Suzuka said, fingers tightening on my shoulders. "What's happening?"
I didn't answer right away.
Out the window, shadows cut across the sky—thin silhouettes balanced on broomsticks and staffs, coats snapping in the wind.
Yeah. Not subtle.
"Wizards," I said flatly. "We're under attack."
Of course we are.
Peace conference, global stakes, fragile alliance—
—and somebody decides to crash it like it's open mic night.
Great.