Latest update:August 26, 2026
Summary:Reborn as just a small-devil-town devil, dreaming of making it in the big devil-city. Gambling it all with his fickle, chaotic power system to make his ordinary devil-dreams come devil-true: the Great War won, Heaven burnt down, the souls of all the ningen claimed, and Devil society returning to those good old-fashioned devil values (on which they used to rely).
Word count:117k
Chapters:10
Prologue
[The Underworld]
"No son of House Nebiros is gonna join one of those new-fangled 'Peerages' and rub shoulders with all those pretend-devils runnin' loose!" The seven-foot-tall, rooster-headed devil scoffed at the idea, taloned fingers fixing the jewelled cravat of his maroon, seersucker suit.
"They're called 'Reincarnated Devils' now, dad," I spoke up, and his big golden beak frowned down at me.
"Don't right care what those danged 'New Satans' call those pretend-devils, son! They turned something beautiful and perverted it! Outlawed owning ningens, that is. It took your grandpapi two hundred years of vile, dishonest devil-work to trick all those sinners outta their souls. Near damn broke his shrivelled black heart when we had to do the right thing and put 'em all down instead of freeing them. All of our field ningens! And even the house ningen too! Oh, he was a good one, that ningen. 'Souls of serial killers always make for the best help' your grandpapi always used to say. Polite, meticulous, masters with knives too! Cooked like an angel if you'd pardon the expression. These centuries, you can scarcely find a ningen like that to torment. No, sir, not anymore! And—"
The rooster devil stopped to pat his maroon suit, and when he didn't find what he was looking for, he turned his feathered head this way and that, glancing around the tables on the balcony, the afternoon wind nudging his red, spiked rooster comb.
"... Gosh darnit, now how's a devil s'possed to talk about ningens without a stiff drink? Stay put for a hot minute there, son. I say stay put!" He marched off, muttering as he left me sitting on the balcony. "Must have left my flask in my study."
With a sigh, I settled back into the wooden chair, straightening my own black seersucker suit.
I had never seen Dad this direct before, he usually went on wilder tangents and longer rigamaroles... But to be fair, I've also never had a conversation with an anthropomorphic rooster-man before either. Contradictory statements, yes, but that was perfectly in line with my new, contradictory state of existence I've found myself in.
That of being a Pure-Blooded Devil in Highschool DxD.
It was still unclear what had happened that I suddenly found myself in this world. I did not recall dying, though I did recall my past life... in a sense.
From my point of view, I am and have always been "Malal Nebiros", only son of Phoghornus Leghornath Nebiros. His rooster-devil features didn't pass on to me though. No, I was just your average, human-looking, silver-haired, country-boy devil of seventeen, Underworld summers... who woke up in bed one day with memories of some human living in a world that was a work of fiction. A work of fiction that I wished I had watched beyond just an episode or two. But my head was still reeling from that 'my entire universe is fictional' part, it was a lot to wrestle with.
In the face of that? Looking like (and actually being) Vali Lucifer's cowboy cousin was the least of my problems.
An Underworld populated by Devils, ruled by Four Satans and using Reincarnated Devils to fight in Rating Games... they weren't just fiction anymore.
Rating Games—just like football, basketball, or any other sport in the human world—were what was playing on the television in every barbershop, pool room and bar in town. And it's been like that for as long as I could remember. The 'characters' in them were just as real too, people even grumbled every time they lost a bet when some 72 Pillars noble forfeited a Rating Game out of political reasons rather than a fight, or whenever their favourite failed to rise in rank that year. There was even a poster of the Rating Games' #2 Rank, Roygun Belphegor (Or more specifically, her massive armoured tits), that's been decorating my bedroom wall for the past three years.
The point was: this was real life for me.
It was all real life inhabited by real people with real hopes and dreams, including Malal who I found myself as. Like any Devil teenager, he had a half-baked plan to run away, join a peerage, climb to the very top of the world, then tyrannize the population and monopolize all the women. All in all, pretty average teenage Devil aspirations.
Just another small devil-town devil dreaming of making it in the big devil-city.
But as if summoned by me even thinking of leaving the farm, the devil Phoghornus came swaggering back, a polished metal flask sticking out from in his golden beak. He belched, half-sounding like a rooster's 'bawk!'
"Now, where were we, boy?"
"The family ningen?" I supplied.
"Right! Right!" The 7-foot-tall rooster-devil slapped my back, "The good ole' days when we used to torment sinners good by giving 'em endless, back-breaking labour growing our crops. 'Course, we didn't need no ningen's help. Heck, we didn't even need the crops to begin with! No, sir, tormentin' them ningen was what really mattered! It was our Satan-granted right as Devils to torment sinner souls. But look at where we are now, boy! Growing crops on our own! The great House Nebiros... with no ningens to torment and reduced to doing good, half-honest work to survive!"
He gestured a black-suited arm out beyond the railing. And under the purple sky of the Underworld, beyond our plantation-style mansion, a vast field of crops stretched as far as the eye could see. A multicoloured sea of flora. The colours were divided neatly in rows, like the colours of a great flag, it even swayed under the gentle valley breeze like one. The gentle greens of Devil-Sugar and Devil-Teas, the stark whites of Devil-Cottons and the pinks... of Devil-Opium.
"And all for what?" the rooster-devil said, his voice climbing, "Just so that these ningen we've been turning into pretend-devils don't have their feelings hurt?! Dignity in freedom, or whatever load of crock! Good grief, these new 'Four Satans' ain't even trying to do the name of 'Satan' injustice! Proves your pa right, that's what they do. And what do I always tell you, boy?"
"In this house, there's only one Satan, and that's Satan." I recited.
"Yes, sir!" He declared, clutching his suit jacket like a human priest clutching his vestments, "'least the last set of 'Satans' were proper, principled devil-folk. Crushing the weak, tormenting sinners, and most of all, they weren't afraid to give those light-slinging, feather-flapping, halo-wearing, Great-War-losing Angels what's coming to 'em!"
He stopped to shake his fist in the general direction of the Heavens, but the porch's ceiling fan was unthreatened by the rooster devil's angry gesture. It did get Phoghornus to calm down, sighing as he looked back to me with his bright, copper-orange rooster eyes.
"Son, now, I ain't tellin' you not to dream. That fire in you? That's our Lucifer blood talkin', and don't let anyone take that from you. And our time will come to light a match on all of heavenville, butcher them angels and claim the souls of them ningen to torment for all eternity... What your pa is tryna tell you is to keep both boots on the ground while you're looking at the clouds. And right now, you got yourself a growing farm right here, a solid roof, and all the Satanic kin of House Nebiros in town. Makes no damn sense to leave that all behind thinkin' the world owes you lights and billboards just 'cause you got Lucifer as your great-great-grandpapi!"
He was mistaken though. I didn't expect to coast by using my bloodline. No, I fully intended to fight and lie and steal what I wanted. And what I wanted was all of it. All the riches, all the power, and all the women.
"I know, dad, but..."
"You ain't even listening, boy! I don't wanna hear another peep about running off to those big cities and playing those city-slicker sports games! You understand? No, you're gonna stay here and sexually abuse your little sisters like a proper devil! Just as Satan intended!"
But before I could argue back that I didn't want to stick it in my sisters (yet), we heard it.
Clicking on wooden floor, like a hundred stiletto heels stepping on wood. And getting closer by the second. Behind the wispy curtains, a large shadow navigated the upstairs living room, winding around furniture and advancing in our direction. And finally, it pushed aside the curtains to emerge under the afternoon light. More than half a tonne of dark brown centipede segments, moving on a hundred chitinous legs... and the torso of a (particularly stacked) human woman in a dotted, navy blue sundress and braided green hair. She smiled serenely as she held a wooden tray against her soft, white apron.
"I figured you boys would like some iced tea." she said, holding out the tray and showing off the two tall glasses of amber-coloured liquid with ice cubes and lemon slices floating in them.
"Thanks, mom." I accepted a tall, sweating glass.
"You're welcome," She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, an almost pleading tone in her voice, "But Mal, dear, listen to your pa. You know we mean well. And your sisters have been waiting forever for you to start molesting 'em too. No one's expecting you to get them pregnant overnight, but... your pa and I... we'd like for you to at least start trying to knock 'em up."
The former human side of me was a bit disconcerted by this, but the devil Malal Nebiros had only heard this a thousand times.
"I know..." I murmured into my iced tea. "But you know how they are."
"Drippin' for you?" She smirked.
"With the way they are, that's not going to mean much."
The Rooster-devil just shook his head. "Boy, you're lucky you even have a blood-related sister to molest, much less two! Your grandpapi had to kidnap your mother here from his sworn rival and raise her as his own. We darn near broke up when I found out she wasn't my real sister!"
"But..." The centipede-devil skittered up to the rooster-man, looped an arm around his and smiled at him. "Through the Grace of Satan, we moved past it, sugar. Together."
I quietly sipped my ice tea as my parents made eyes with each other.
"Dear," she said without looking away, "can you go downstairs and ease the lid off the stew for me?"
"Gladly!" I said, accepting the distraction that my mother was giving me, "Thanks for the talk, dad, you gave me a lot to think about."
"Just don't let that thinkin' wander off without a map and a compass, because I've seen thoughts like that get lost, start a family, and start thinkin' violence won't solve anything like some ningen." He said, paused, then slapped my back and laughed outloud, "That was a joke, son! Go cogitate, ruminate, marinate that noodle of yours over what we talked about!"
"But don't marinate too long though, dear," Mom added with a gentle smile, "Supper will be sorted out in half an hour."
"Alright. See you in a bit," I said, giving both the seven-foot-tall rooster-devil-man and the centipede-devil-woman a hug. Then, I skipped over mom's armoured, trailing centipede body and left the two chimeras to their quiet, balcony conversation.
The walk to the kitchen gave me time to think, what with it being on the other end of this stately plantation house. And it was surely a big estate, because as with anyone growing opioids, our family was very well-to-do. For all the good that did at least. There wasn't much to buy with the money in this small, nowhere town. Most of the money just went to dad's ongoing, centuries-long renovation of the house with the best woods, bricks and concrete from all around the Underworld.
It was a new house by devil standards too, barely five hundred years old.
Dark wood corridors leading to Victorian-esque parlors arranged for conversations that had ended centuries ago. Spiked chandeliers dangled overhead and threatened to fall on your head. Snarling gargoyles were carved into the panelling and made the sight of sharp teeth ever present. Heavy furniture crouched low and dark everywhere, all clawed feet and curved arms, while painted portraits watched from the walls. Men and women with severe expressions and medieval modes of clothing and armour, their most lively expressions reserved for the oil paintings where those same devil ancestors held aloft heads of angels, or standing atop a heap of skulls or tormenting screaming sinners with barbed whips. And somewhere, a grandfather clock marked time with deep, metallic clicks that echoed through the halls.
If this was in the human world, this would have been the perfect location for those 'haunted mansion' films, but my family called it home. The generally intimidating atmosphere was meant cow guests and ningen that we no longer hosted...
Dad already considered himself a mean rebel for updating it to such a 'modern' style, two hundred years back.
Taking a shortcut through the largest parlour. I stopped as I passed the fireplace. There, on the mantle above it, an angel's wings was pinned on a fine wooden plaque. The feathers still soft and white as snow even after all the centuries since it was torn from its victim.
I kept walking.
What a brutal unforgiving world to be born in. This world of Devils.
Only the strong should thrive here. And in the Underworld, 'strong' almost always meant the magnitude of one's Demonic Power. That is to say, the Devil's version of the 'intelligence' attribute in videogames. The more 'points' you have in it, the higher your 'mana pool' was and the better spells that you can access. Some inherited distinct expressions of Demonic Powers like the Bael's Power of Destruction or the Sitri's specialisation with their Water Spells. Other Devils, those who were powerful and imaginative enough, would even manifest their own 'unique spell' exclusive to themselves, such as Sirzechs' Ruin the Extinct.
Thus, you were either possessed of great demonic power, or you were born to serve the Devils that were.
That was the widespread belief.
The Great War demonstrated to all the Factions, and the Devil Civil War five hundred years ago carved the lesson into the very foundations of modern Devil society. Indeed, the current Four Satans—Sirzechs, Serafall, Ajuka, and Falbium—only acquired their titles because they had overpowered their predecessors in terms of Demonic Power, and pried it loose from their dead hands.
It had been a violent and bloody uprising that left thousands dead; every Devil collectively agreed that this was the most respectable method of gaining political power in the Underworld.
As for myself... this 'Malal Nebiros,' he only had slightly above-average levels of Demonic Power to his name. He would have been lucky to have been chosen as a rook or a knight over someone with even a halfway-decent Sacred Gear. And even then, he'd be a middling one at that. He simply did not have the raw Demonic Power or the talent to be anything more than some background character despite being from a bloodline that descended from Lucifer himself.
'Background character in Highschool DxD' would have been precisely what I would have been doomed to be... had I not gained a new power the morning I recalled that human's life.
CHAOS GACHA
The infinite chaos of the endless and infinite multiverse condensed and refined into the form of a Gacha available at your very fingertips! Maybe you will become a shapeshifting fire monarch, or maybe you will be a supreme tinkerer... or a supreme lady killer. The possibilities are functionally endless! So go ahead and gamble to your heart's content! The endless, ever-changing multiverse awaits, so gamble with the Nuclear Chaos and see what fate has in store for you!
The message did not appear in some videogame-style HUD or pop-up window.
No, every word and letter in that message was seared into my mind just as clearly as my own name. And I knew it all by heart. The premise of this Chaos Gachawas simple: A random power, talent, item or familiar would be granted to me every time I 'achieved' a notable feat. And the greater the achievement, the greater the possible reward.
Of course, I was going to use it to my fullest advantage.
Of course, I will.
I wanted to be more than just a 'background character' in some horny manga. My blood boiled at the thought. I was a Devil. I naturally craved power and absolutely resented being commanded by someone I perceived as lesser. So, the thought of being a 'background character' to someone called the 'Oppai Dragon'?
What Isse got, I wanted.
No, I wanted even more than that. Unlike him, I wasn't about to stop at just the 'main cast' of women. I wasn't going to rest on my laurels once I surpassed the Four Satans. I wasn't going to be sated with just a cushy job and a lofty title; I wanted real power. And though he may have the [Boosted Gear], I had the Chaos Gacha. And once I've attained enough achievements... I knew which one was going to win in the end.
Though, an inherently chaotic system was not without its downsides.
Even now, I was feeling the curse. My family, and even my very existence was a 'curse.'
Through 'my' memories of living here all my life, I knew that everyone in the town of Nebiros that was located in Nebiros Valley unsurprisingly bore the last name of Nebiros. Living here, it was less of a question of whether you were related to someone, and more of a question of just what kind of relation? Sister, cousin, sister-wife, Cousin-wife, cousin-sister-wife or some of the more esoteric combinations. Not that I held it against these people. Nebiros Town did not even exist in 'canon' Highschool DxD as far as I could recall.
This was clearly and undoubtedly all my fault.
Yes, I was the one who likely caused this entire town to inbreed itself into existence. This was all due to a little side feature in the Chaos Gacha: Curses. Gain a curse of random strength, gain a somewhat equivalent power/talent/item/familiar in return. It was something 'taken' at the start. And the one that I had rolled was...
-CURSE-
[Bad Blood] |Severity 7|
You were born into a family of bad people, could be criminals, cultists, crooks, gangsters, or god forbid, a corpo.
|Resolve: None, a one-and-done deal.|
...
So, I wasn't just born to a family of inbred hicks, or drug farmers, or slavers, or sadistic otherworldly devils. No, I was born to a family of inbred, drug-farming, slave-owning, sadistic devils living in the middle of nowhere. Well, formerly slave-owning and only moderately inbred.
I'm sure the curse would have been a bigger deal if the human whose memories I woke up with had a stronger influence. But for a pure-blooded devil like me, it was a clear advantage. Especially since, in return for this 'Curse', I gained something as well.
[Intermediate Item Construction] |Rarity: Rare Skill|
You know how to make decent magical and enchanted items, if you know fire magic, you can turn a regular sword into a sword that can light itself on fire on command. If you have the ability Invisibility, you can probably make a cloak that suppresses your presence.
...
A worthy trade.
How else could one describe this skill when Demonic Powers ranged from Elemental spells like Fireball to Defensive ones like Barriers to Teleportation to Appearance Manipulation and even Mind Control?
Even someone like I who had only been taught the basics such as the elemental 'spells' could grow to be a great power. The sky-high potential was all there in this deceptively unassuming skill, looming like an arsenal of nuclear weapons, just waiting for me to piece together the launch codes. Any spell I can learn and anything I can imagine, I can also fabricate, even alter their effect slightly. It wasn't clear by how much, but there it was, hinted at in the description from 'invisibility' to 'presence suppression.'
I had, in just this skill alone, everything I needed to eventually take over the world of Highschool DxD.
The last few weeks, I had already spent just exploring and exploiting everything I could do with these enchantments. This black suit of mine being woven with Barrier magic being the foremost example. And I would have done more if I knew more useful spells.
It was a shame that there was no 'Great Library of Nebiros' for me to learn spells from; otherwise, I would have stayed here and studied until I had 'end-game' items. Joining the peerage of a high-class Devil was then the next best thing, they'd give me the readiest access to all the spells I needed. Actually joining was the problem; they don't recruit from remote areas such as these. They certainly wouldn't recruit any low-class Devil nobody who walks up to them (save for Rias Gremory though).
Violence, once again, was the answer.
A 'Middle-Class Devil Promotion Test' was needed to prove myself in everyone's eyes. Three straightforward sections: A brief essay about my aspirations as a Middle-Class Devil, a written exam over general topics about the Underworld, and finally... a brutal, one-on-one cage match with another hopeful while everyone watches.
Oh, if only all my tests in the past life were like this!
But afterwards? My name will be made known to all the high-ranking devils in the Underworld, especially to anyone looking to recruit peerage members.
That part should at least be easier thanks to my Pure-Blooded Devil pedigree. Unlike me, a Reincarnated Devil was a risky investment for High-class Devil looking to fill their peerage. Non-humans like Koneko/Kuroka notwithstanding, these Reincarnated Devils had no storied family history, no possibility of having inherited greatness or Demonic Power from their predecessor. Only their human-only Sacred Gear gave them a fighting chance. If they had one, that is. Pure-blooded Devils were just the more reliable choice. The fact that we're in short supply and very much still in demand only added to my advantage.
But that was only useful if they knew that I even existed.
So, once again, my ambitions point towards leaving this small town to take the 'Middle-Class Devil Promotion Test' for the big city. And I wasn't going to achieve much here for the Chaos Gacha either, a world away from where all the fighting and enemies were.
The idea of running away from home didn't bother me, not anymore. Past Malal had agonised over the decision until I 'woke up' with him. The maturity of two whole souls granted me the wisdom to see what I needed to do. That previous conversation with my parents? It was only my attempt to do it with their blessing. They'll come around eventually. Devils respected strength above everything else after all, especially those who descend from the original Lucifer. And I had no intention of stopping until I was on the top of the food chain.
Reaching the kitchen, I tilted the lid slightly on the stew bubbling on the stovetop before hurrying up to my room to pack.
Unfortunately, they were already there: my least favourite family members.
The twins stood just outside the darkwood door of my bedroom, on the floral, maroon carpet that ran down the hall. And against the plantation house's wallpaper and panelling, their ten-year-old girl silhouettes were immediately visible: short, lanky and unfortunately quicker than they looked. Because the moment I turned the corner...
"There you are!"
Spoiler: SFW Image: Twin Brats
Their matching golden eyes that they inherited from mom locked onto me, then their light green hair that they also inherited from her streamed in the air as they ran to me. The twins were still in their usual matching blue outfits that they'd copied off train conductors, complete with the flat-top conductor's hats. They really liked their trains. I've already been told the story about how Dad had lost the right to name them in a poker game somewhere. He said that he couldn't remember who it was, but it was clear that it must have been someone Japanese.
Nozomi and Hikari. Both beautiful Japanese names for a pair of beautiful girls... who I wished were someone else's beautiful sisters. Preferably that of some alien lifeform on the other side of the universe.
"Onii-chan~ We heard everything!" Nozomi, the one with the light green twintails and the little blue shorts, grinned smugly. "This can't be the day when you finally can get it up, could it?"
Hikari, the one with the loose curtain of light green hair and the blue miniskirt, nodded in agreement. Her slow, almost sleepy voice agreeing with her twin. "The Onii-sausage isn't sad and droopy anymore? Impossible."
"Only one way to find out. Pyahahaha!"
"Be annoying later, I'm busy right now," I said as I walked past them, but they fell in step on either side of me, and I had to bat away their grabby little hands from my crotch.
"But we've been practicing, you know!" Nozomi grinned, golden eyes twinkling as she curled her voice to a lewd half-moan, "Ahn! Onii-chan~ Is that your pinkie finger poking me?"
Hikari stepped up after her, talking slow but just as bratty. "It went squirt-squirt already? As expected of Onii-chan..."
I tried to close the door in their faces just as I passed the threshold, but alas, they slipped in quickly. Instead, I frowned at the twins who now stood smiling in my bedroom.
"Get out of my room."
"Nuh uh! Not until you show us a magic trick and make your sausage disappear! In one of us!" Nozomi just grinned, and beside her Hikari wiggled her white-gloved fingers at my crotch.
"Wiener, wiener, disappear his peener!"
Two lolis literally asking for it... Someone else in my position would have folded immediately. Or at least, someone who did not know them. Because the last thing I was going to do was give the little brats what they wanted, even if it was my cock.
My overwhelming spite for all the pranks, teasing and general spoiled brat behaviour they've put me through over the years eclipsed most of my desire to have raw, unprotected threesome sex with two blood-related, loli twin sisters. Besides, they also had much higher demonic power than I currently had, which was naturally going to make 'correcting' them physically impossible. In fact, if I tried to stick it in them now, there was more than a coinflip chance that they'd be the ones doing the correcting. What exactly that meant for me, I didn't know. And unfortunately for them, I was not into putting myself at the sexual mercy of two enormous spoiled brats.
My eyes went to bratty thighs encased in snow-white stockings, disappearing up into a pair of little shorts and little skirt respectively.
... But I'll definitely be coming back to show them who was boss one day. Shouldn't disappoint mother by notpounding my sisters at some point.
"What are you even up to?" Nozomi asked, her curious eyes watching me haul a big, brown suitcase onto my bed, "Supper's in fifteen minutes, and we're definitely not gonna set the table on our own."
The suitcase's shiny brass clasps clicked open, and I answered.
"I'm running away."
"..." They stared at each other. Burnished gold eyes blown wide, dinner-plate round and their small mouths open in surprise. Their identical expressions made them look the most twin-like they've ever been.
Nozomi broke first.
"When are you going? Can you go now?!" She bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning like she'd just been handed a can of gasoline and a match. Meanwhile, Hikari was already rummaging through my dresser's drawers, picking out clothes and tossing the rejects on the floor.
"Onii-chan will need all his socks to run far, faa~aar away." She muttered.
"Good idea! Let's help him pack!" Nozomi joined her sister.
"Why," I asked slowly, watching my wardrobe get pillaged, "are you two so excited about this?"
Nozomi didn't even look back. "Because if you run away, we get to turn this room back into our model train room again!" She shot me a sharp wag of her finger. "You really inconvenienced your sisters, you know."
"Yup. That wasn't nice of you, onii-chan, being born."
"So you running away is basically the closest thing to a refund we're ever gonna get!"
"Item bought by mistake. Return to seller." Hikari said solemnly, walking over to my suitcase and stuffing socks in by the armful. "One-star review. Item ate all our snacks yesterday and- bwuh!"
Hand on her face, I pushed one-half of the little green-haired menace away from my sock-explosion of a suitcase, and started packing in earnest, folding in my essential clothes. "Those were my snacks that youstole. Now, just let me pack in peace if you two have nothing useful to add."
"Oh, that's easy." Nozomi scoffed, "There's a westbound freight clearing the yard in forty minutes. Local pickup just finished switching. If you're heading to the big city, you could stowaway in one of the cars."
"Super Train Conductor powers activate!" Hikari announced, eyes closed and fingers to her temple like a prophet communing with distant spirits. She nodded, as if finding what she was looking for. "Boxcar thirteen. The lock's still busted."
"... You were the ones to break it while screwing around, weren't you?"
Nozomi snapped her gloved fingers, delighted. "Oh, right, that's the train car they were loading the furniture in! Onii-chan could sneak in, kick back on a couch and ride smooth all the way to... " She said, completely ignoring the accusation as she mentally traced the train's line through a spreadsheet only she could see. "Hmmm, junction after Leviathan's Reach, I think. Then mainline north to..."
Hikari's gold eyes looked at me, she nodded once. "Big city terminal: Whereverberg, Far-From-Here-Ville."
"Exactly where Onii-chan needs to be!" the pig-tailed twin cheered, and grinned a toothy grin at me, "Your sisters just gave you a free train ticket to the (sorta) nearest big city! Aren't we the best?"
"That's..." I paused, hands on the edge of the suitcase, mulling over what they had just said...
It was true that any city would be good. Even if the Promotion Test Centres weren't available in every major city/territory, there was at least transportation to territories that did. The largest test centre was in the Territory of House Glasya-Labolas. And the cherry on top was I wouldn't be on any passenger list. A lone devil of great power, appearing out of nowhere one fateful day. Very poetic. The pageantry of Rating Games could not be denied, because in this day and age in the Underworld, a little showmanship can open a lot more doors than people would expect. Still, this was highly unusual: the twins giving me actually useful and helpful information for once...
"You two are the best." I admitted, continuing packing.
"Hehehe! Of course, we are!" Nozomi smiled, greedily and shamelessly accepting the compliment. "Praise us more!"
"Only if you have any more useful advice."
The twins just glanced at each other, their light green hair swaying as they did their usual twin thing and communicated with only their eyes and some facial expression. "Depends." Nozomi relayed their consensus, "What are you even gonna do there in the city?"
"Joining a peerage, grow stronger, do great achievements, reach the top where everyone knows my name."
"You mean you want to be like those bigshot Rating Games players on tv? You?!"
"Me."
"Oh, you were being serious! Pyahahahahaha!" She bust out laughing. Meanwhile, Hikari shook her head pityingly, already disappointed in a future that she was no doubt assuming was inevitable. "Onii-chan's so confident at all the wrong times…"
Then they shared a glance, sending each other messages through their twin-telepathy before the both of them lunged forward. Small faces pressed into my sides, arms wrapping around my middle with surprising strength. For a heartbeat I stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden weight of them, by how warm they were. This... wasn't how we usually did things.
Nozomi spoke first, voice muffled against my suit. "Making a big, stupid decision that you're gonna regret like this… You're growing up so fast."
Hikari's arms tightened, fingers bunching fabric like she was afraid I might slip through her hands. "You're really gonna leave today?" She hesitated, then added, quieter. "For realsies?"
"Yes, today." I said without a drop of hesitation. Because this was a race, no doubt about it, and I was competing against others for the prize. Against one other person, really.
Hyoudou Issei.
I could see his face without even trying. This human with half my discipline and twice my luck, born with a Sacred Gear that could topple the world. He'd be spotted earlier and closer to the limelight, practically the centre of the universe. The raw power and growth potential granted to him by the [Boosted Gear]beggared belief, and outscaled even my Chaos Gachafor the next few years. So, I had to leave, right now, or else 'Canon' would start and leave me far behind. And once it did, it was going to be near impossible to catch up back to it. If that happened, I may as well cede this universe to the 'Oppai Dragon.' So, I really had to leave. And I had to do it now.
"Hehehehe... Onii-chan's room is ours now on. No take-backs!" Nozomi was the one to say, and I felt her grin against my side.
"Yeah, you can have the room," I said, resting a hand briefly atop each of their heads. Light green hair soft under my palms. "When I come back, I'll build my own mansion here anyway. And it's gonna be so much better than this room. Heck, I bet Dad won't even mind if I do it after changing back the law about owning and tormenting ningens. But... that's going to take a lot of work, I definitely won't be coming back for a while though. So, tell the folks I'll write home."
"Okay…" Hikari's voice came soft, almost sleepy, against my stomach. The twins didn't pull away. If anything, they leaned in harder, like they were memorizing the shape of me while they had the chance. Then she tilted her head up just enough to speak clearly. "And Onii-chan?"
"Yeah?"
"Please get hopelessly lost in the big city, okay?" Hikari pleaded, "This room really is perfect for our trains. At least for a decade."
"And if you're mailing back ningens for dad, mail us some snacks too!" Nozomi added immediately.
The buckles on my suitcase clicked shut, and I exhaled through my nose, a smile tugging despite myself.
These selfish little brats.
But as if they'd heard the thought scrape past my mind, Nozomi and Hikari peeled themselves off me at the same time and hopped onto my bed like a stage. The mattress's spring creaking as they did. The afternoon light from the window catching their light-green hair as they spun in circles, hand in hand.
"Tick-tock, Onii-chan," Nozomi sang, grinning wide as she spun around. "You better hurry or you'll miss your train! Pyahahaha!"
"Overnight freight departing for crash-and-burn station," Kari intoned, spinning with her sister. "All aboard."
"Yeah, yeah," I hefted the suitcase. It felt heavier than it had any right to be, my whole life compressed into a rectangle of dark brown leather. I turned for the door, tipping my hat to my two sisters. "I'll see you twerps later."
Behind me, their voices chased me down the room, overlapping and alternating, braiding together the way they always were.
"Goodbye~" "Bon voyage!" "Auf Wiedersehen~" "Sayonara!"
The twin's cheering followed me past my bedroom's—now their model train room's—doorway. My boots thumped against the familiar, flower-pattern, maroon carpet in a fast rhythm, each step pulling me farther from the room I'd grown up in. And from the kitchen, the savory fragrance of mom's signature devil-chicken stew drifted through the house. One last, home-cooked supper attempting to convince me to stay.
I kept moving, and didn't look back.
Even when I reached the front door, I didn't hesitate... though I did pause. My eyes went to the console table with the mirror. A silver-haired devil teen in a suit and cowboy hat, all in black, stared right back at me. His hand reached out to take a small family photo from the console. The folks, my sisters, me... All of us smiling, caught in a moment frozen in time just a few years ago when I didn't have to complicate things with my dreams.
I slipped the photo into my black suit's pocket, close to my chest, and stepped out under the afternoon sky. Amongst the rustling grass and swaying trees of the estate's front field. And just as the gentle breeze brushed across my cheek, words imprinted themselves onto my mind.
Feat Achieved! — Go West, Young Devil
Gather the courage to run away from home and chase your dreams.
+1 Bronze Gacha Ticket
...
It was the very first ticket I've earned since 'arriving' here. Ironic that I'd get it for leaving. I wasn't sure how to roll a metaphysical ticket, but just as the word 'roll' formed in my mind. The ticket reacted, burning away like a worry being lifted from my thoughts. And as it left, something else appeared, slipping into my chest pocket.
[XX - Judgement] |Common Item|
Tarot Card - Allows you to compel someone to tell what they think is the truth without being able to intend to trick you. 120 Hour Cooldown
...
I turned the black-and-gold card over, admiring the intricate art inlaid with gold thread. A winged skeleton in the clouds trumpetting down at naked humans writhing on the ground, as if the doot-dooting of his golden trumpet was unbearable to them. With an amused exhale, I slid the card back into my pocket. I hoped for a familiar, something to keep me company, maybe even a horse to ride off into the sunset. But I guess being able to make honest people wherever I go is even better.
How fitting that I'd get a parting gift.
My grip tightened on my suitcase handle, and I stepped forward, fallen leaves crunching under my boots. Because somewhere, beyond the fields and the town of Nebiros, was a train.
My train.
I didn't even know where it was headed, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that it was about to leave without me in about thirty minutes. My grip on my suitcase tightened as leathery, bat-like wings spread out behind me, pushing me through the air as I chased after my train, and my dreams.
Just a small town devil, living in a lonely world, taking the midnight train going anywhere.
(Two days after) [Sitri Estate, Underworld]
Sona Sitri sat straight-backed in her chair, and not a crease out of place in her Kuoh Academy uniform.
With a quiet exhale, she rested her chin on her lightly curled finger, her violet eyes peering past her thin-rimmed glasses and to the chessboard that rested on the polished desk in front of her. The morning light making the pieces cast long shadows on the checkered marble.
Once again, she studied the board in silence.
Midgame. Black to move.
It was a hardfought battlefield. Black's knight was pinned, and the lone bishop was sacrificed earlier to maintain an aggressive forward momentum down the king-side flank of the board. That momentum has since evaporated, and crucial black pieces sat defeated outside the board including Black's Queen, leaving White with excellent odds to win. The conclusion made her frown, because she was the one with black pieces. Worse still, her peerage performed precisely like this current game: promising, but forced to resort to aggressive and unreliable tactics to compensate for the lack of experience... and the lack of pieces.
A stack of folders lay open beside the board. Printouts from Middle-Class Devil database. A roll of names and faces with brief descriptions of their abilities and disposition. Portraits circled in ink, others crossed out just as cleanly.
Her penmanship filled up the margin on the side with notes. This one had power, but without discipline. Another had discipline but without potential. This one was perfect, but far too old for her peerage. And yet another to the growing pile of candidates who were too proud to leave the Underworld... or at least, couldn't handle the commute to the Human World. This one... she had contacted, but his price was exorbitant, even for the Heiress of House Sitri, and likely because she was the Sitri Heiress. Devils of the Sin of Greed always overplayed their hands; her peerage was better off without them anyway. Maybe.
She refrained from clicking her tongue.
Too many maybes, and not enough 'definitelies'. The most promising one wasn't even in the Middle-Class Devil database, because she had found him herself.
Genshirou Saji.
His dossier lay to the side, a recently orphaned human teen in a neighboring prefecture who had exhibited signs of a Sacred Gear. She was fortunate that the Grigori had informed her first; otherwise, another King would have snatched him up. And as for which Sacred Gear he possessed, the lab she'd sent his samples to needed more time to conclusively confirm. Now, she wasn't the type to rely heavily on luck in any of her strategies, but she hoped that Genshirou-san's Sacred Gear was really what she suspected it to be: A fragment of Vritra, the Black Dragon King... Not only was it a unique Sacred Gear, but one of the fabled Draconic ones too. Very powerful, and consequently, very valuable for any young King looking to fill the ranks of her untested peerage. But that was only if Genshirou Saji really did bear one of Dragon Vritra's Sacred Gears.
She lifted her teacup, a fine porcelain piece stained in Sitri-blue, and took a single frustrated sip.
For his recruitment strategy, she needed more time. More time to verify Saji's Sacred Gear, more time to prepare her 'arguments' to convince him to swear himself to her, and even more time to train him once he accepted her generous offer. It was all running on schedule and slated to finish in less than seven to eight weeks.
But unfortunately, she didn't have seven to eight weeks, because she had a Rating Game to win in four.
And she didn't care how many times her sister reassured her with her lilting 'Sona-tan, just believe in the heart of your pieces~ Ehe☆! ' That kind of meat-brained advice was better suited for someone like Rias. And unlike the Gremory heiress, she actually had goals in life beyond loafing around day after day, growing stupider... and fatter.
'Uuu, Sona-tan is being so mean to Rias-chan~ Just because she grew a cup size...'
Teacup clicked softly on the saucer. Porcelain on porcelain.
Sona Sitri was NOT one to lose a Rating Game. Even if it was under the guise of just 'An amicable unofficial Rating Game between Sona Sitri and Seekvaira Agares, heiresses of two distinguished houses from the esteemed 72 Pillars, showcasing the meteoric potential of their new generation.'
Their Houses may be on friendly terms, but the show of strength and of skill that was the Rating Game was visible for everyone. To be recorded and disseminated, then made available to be picked apart and analyzed by any devil in the Underworld who had access to DeviTube. Maybe even clipped and shared if it was embarrassing enough. And that essentially meant that the win or loss will be known for all time throughout all of Creation. Personally, she had nothing against the Agares Heiress, but... Seekvaira was in the way of her own personal goals for the future. Not to mention, she looked like someone who'd lose a lot of Rating Games. So, imagine how devastating it would be, not just to her reputation as the Sitri Heiress, but also as a future headmistress to a Rating Game Academy, if she actually lost to someone as pathetic as that?
'Sona-chan is just jealous that Rias-chan has been hanging out a lot more with Seek-chan the past few months. They're just catching up, ya know~?'
Her fingers reached out and nudged the black knight forward, in range of White's king piece...
Check.
... right before she tipped her own king piece. Marble clicking on marble.
Black resigns.
Because she knew that was as close as she'd get to winning this game. The last desperate move that would be countered by the enemy queen the very next turn, followed by a checkmate in six moves. It couldn't be helped; her strategic options were severely limited by her incomplete pieces. But Sona knew that was no excuse; Seekvaira hadn't assembled a full peerage either. In fact, they were matched, piece by piece. The problem lay in that— No, Seekvaira might have an actual dragon for a Queen piece, and Riser Phenex might have his Queen Piece taking the promotion exam now. But Sona Sitri was not going to admit to anyone that she had the weaker pieces. Never.
Instead, she'll admit that she needed to find a strategy to utterly destroy Seekvaira Agares, and fast.
'Ehe... Sona-tan, this is supposed to be a friendly match between our houses. We just want you two to put on a good fight☆'
... was what her sister had said to her over dinner last night. But she didn't want to just give a 'good fight☆' for House Sitri, she wanted to claim victory for herself, for her dreams, and for all devils who will benefit from them. A Queen, two Bishops, a Knight, a Rook and a Pawn... that's what she currently had to work with. Her other seven pawn pieces, she reserved for Genshirou Saji who she hoped would be a dragon worth all seven of them.
And that left her with...
With a wave of her pale hand, she summoned the Evil Pieces in question: A Black Knight and a Black Rook.
Either piece would do, depending on who she'd find. But really, the 'find' part was proving to be particularly challenging. The stack of printouts neatly aligned on her desk attested to that. Faces stared up at her in rows on the papers: some were crossed out, others were encircled and annotated 'waiting for response' in her tidy handwriting that was slowly transforming into a frustrated scrawl with every iteration, and others still lay unread at the bottom of the pile, patiently waiting their turn to inform her all the reasons why they're better off anywhere else other than be in her peerage.
She'd need at least another day to sort through all this.
'Sona-tan should try doing things like Rias-chan and—'
"No. Just... no." Sona told the empty room and reached under her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose. "I don't think I'll be trying Rias' way of doing things."
And by that, she meant focusing all her energy into... doing nothing. Just sit back, laze around and believe with absolute confidence that some freak-of-nature with immense fighting ability and even more immense potential was just going to come stumbling out of the countryside in the next 24-hours looking for their first peerage. Ready to join, ready to fight, and with no enormous price tag attached.
Satan, even with that idea just bouncing inside her own head, it sounded absolutely, positively stupid as—
[Elsewhere]
A devil in black strolled into the main lobby of the Promotion Test Centre. The smile underneath the shadow of his black, wide-brimmed cowboy hat almost as wide and bright as his large belt buckle.
"Mornin.' This where a devil can take the Middle-Class Promotion Exam?"
- Prologue End -
Site: Questionable Questing