The Shadow's howl tore through the silent Kuoh night, a psychic and sonic tsunami. Humans slept on, blissfully unaware, their minds shielded by the collective unconscious's normal barriers.
But for Devils, Fallen Angels, and other supernatural entities, it was a physical blow, a scream of purest shadow essence that clawed at their very beings.
Sona Sitri jolted awake in her dorm bed, heart hammering against her ribs.
"Tsubaki?!" she gasped, disoriented. Her Queen was already at the window, her face pale, eyes wide with terror as she stared towards the town's outskirts.
"President…" Tsubaki whispered, her voice trembling. "What is that?"
Yuuto Kiba was still awake, reviewing fencing techniques in his room. The howl hit him like a physical wave. He staggered, dropping his practice sword. He rushed to his window, looking towards the source. His eyes widened in disbelief at the distant, impossible silhouette blotting out the stars.
"W-What…?" he breathed, a cold dread settling in his stomach. "PRESIDENT!" he yelled, grabbing his phone, but the sight held him frozen for a crucial second.
Ruruko Nimura—one of Sona's Pawns—was already running, sprinting towards the Sitri heiress's dorm like hellhounds were at her heels, driven by pure, instinctive terror.
"PRESIDENT! PRESIDENT!" she screamed into the night.
"Rias! WAKE UP!" Akeno was shaking her King roughly. Rias groaned, blinking sleep from her eyes.
"Akeno? What—?" She followed Akeno's terrified gaze out the window. Her blood ran cold. "Oh Satans…" she whispered, scrambling out of bed.
The howl also ripped Koneko from her sleep. She tried to sit up, to run, but her body refused. Every muscle locked in primal terror. Her Nekomata ears and tail burst forth uncontrollably.
She curled into a ball, trembling violently, unable to tear her eyes from the monstrous shape visible through her window, a silent whimper escaping her lips.
The seared, shuddering sphere of wings unfurled with violent force, shedding charred feathers like black snow.
Shadow Azazel, wounded but enraged beyond measure, rose. It tore through the remnants of the church roof as if it were paper, stone and timber exploding outwards.
It hovered above Kuoh Town, a grotesque constellation of darkness and limbs against the moonlit sky—a mass of undulating wings surrounding a pale, gargantuan face with lidless eyes that now blazed like bloody suns, each containing a pinprick of sickly yellow pupil.
Countless skeletal arms writhed from its central maw, grasping at the empty air.
It opened its eyes fully, bathing the town below in an unholy, bloody light. "It seems humanity remains stubbornly blind," the thousand voices rumbled, a mixture of disappointment and cruel amusement.
It tilted its massive head slightly, focusing on a single, seemingly insignificant black butterfly perched delicately on the tip of one tattered wing.
"They are not yet ready to embrace your gift, Father. Their unconscious slumbers still."
The butterfly's wings fluttered once. A voice, smooth, ancient, and dripping with malevolent intelligence, spoke directly into the Shadow's mind, yet the words seemed to vibrate in the very air.
"No matter, my beloved child. While mankind's collective mind remains barred, the other mortals dwelling in this fractured reality are quite… receptive. See?"
The butterfly's antennae twitched towards the town below, where figures—Rias, Sona, Kiba, others—were visible, staring up in horror.
"Observe their delicious terror. Philemon sent a champion, wielding the power of the 'Universe'… amusing, in its futility. We shall have such fun unraveling him, my dear."
The butterfly lifted off the wing. "Prepare. Our game enters a new phase." With a final, dark shimmer, the butterfly—Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos—vanished into the night.
Azazel pushed himself up from the rubble, bruised, battered, and bleeding from a gash on his forehead. The sight of the colossal Shadow blotting out the sky sent a fresh wave of dread through him.
"I have to call Grigori… mobilize everything…" he gasped, trying to summon a teleportation circle for reinforcements, his fingers trembling as he traced the sigils.
Elizabeth materialized beside him, her gaze fixed on the hovering abomination, then shifting to Makoto, who stood amidst the ruins, breathing heavily but radiating fierce determination.
"No one in this world possesses the means to combat Shadows," she stated, her voice chillingly calm. "Save Makoto Yuki. Your armies would be slaughtered, or worse… corrupted."
"All will be explained," Elizabeth added, her tone brooking no argument. "Now, if you wish to aid him… truly aid him… go. Prevent the Devils of this town from interfering. Contain them. Keep them away from here. Their fear will draw the Shadow's attention, make it stronger."
She turned her piercing blue eyes fully on him.
"That is the help he needs now, Councillor. Go." Without waiting for a reply, she dissolved back into her butterfly form and flitted away.
Meanwhile Sona teleported directly into the ORC room, finding Rias already there, pale-faced, staring out the window. Akeno, Tsubaki, and a breathless Ruruko arrived moments later. Panic hung thick in the air.
"Rias! What is that thing?" Sona demanded, her voice tight with fear, her usual composure shattered. "Is it a Fallen? Some new breed? The wings… but the size… the feel of it…"
"I don't know!" Rias admitted, her knuckles white where she gripped the windowsill. "It radiates pure malice… darkness… unlike anything I've sensed! We need Sirzechs! Now!"
Sona nodded frantically. "Yes! And Serafall! Immediately! This is beyond us!" Her pride was utterly forgotten in the face of existential terror.
A blue butterfly fluttered through the broken window, landing gracefully on the central table. Light coalesced, and Elizabeth stood before them, serene amidst the panic.
"Elizabeth!" Rias gasped. "Do you know what that is? What's happening?"
"Good evening," Elizabeth replied politely. "Yes. The entity you perceive is known as a Shadow."
"A Shadow?" Sona echoed, bewildered and frustrated. "What does that mean? Explain! Now! This is our territory!"
"This location is unsuitable for a comprehensive explanation," Elizabeth said, her gaze sweeping over their terrified faces. "I came only to urge you: remain here. Seek shelter. Do not approach the church ruins. It is for your safety."
"Our safety?" Sona exploded, her fear momentarily overridden by outrage. "That thing is over our town! You will tell us what is happening, and you will tell us NOW!" She took a step towards Elizabeth, magical energy crackling faintly around her.
Before Elizabeth could respond, a blinding pillar of pure, incandescent light erupted from the ruins of the church, spearing upwards with divine fury. It struck the hovering Shadow dead center.
The light wasn't just bright; it was holy, absolute, scouring away the pervasive darkness like sunlight vaporizing mist.
The Devils in the ORC room cried out, shielding their eyes from the overwhelming radiance, their arguments forgotten in the face of this new, terrifying power.
'Universe! Cease this delay!' Lucifer's voice, vast and impatient, thundered in Makoto's mind. 'Annihilate this abomination!'
'The Fallen One speaks truth, Makoto,' a deeper, calmer, yet infinitely more powerful voice resonated—the voice of his truest self, the core of the Universe, Messiah. 'Let us end this. Now.'
Makoto felt the power coalescing, the strain immense, the cost terrifyingly clear. But he nodded. There was no other way.
"Ryoji! Disengage!" he yelled, his voice raw.
Thanatos, locked in a desperate aerial duel with the Shadow's lashing wings, broke away instantly, dissolving back into Makoto's psyche.
Makoto raised the Evoker once more. This time, the gesture felt final, monumental. He pressed it to his temple, his eyes closing for a split second, centering himself amidst the maelstrom of power and the Shadow's enraged shrieks as it weathered Leviathan's holy onslaught. He poured every ounce of his will, his hope, his burden, into the summoning.
"MESSIAH!"
Azazel, shielding his eyes from the initial pillar of light, witnessed the impossible. The blinding radiance coalesced, shaping itself not just into light, but into a form.
Descending gracefully, bathed in the holy luminescence, was a being of serene, overwhelming power. It appeared robotic, yet profoundly divine—a sleek, golden-armored figure with a halo of light, its features impassive, beautiful, and utterly alien. Messiah.
It descended until its finger gently touched Makoto's outstretched hand.
The moment of contact unleashed apotheosis.
Pure, unadulterated holiness exploded outwards. It wasn't an attack; it was an annulment. A fundamental denial of the Shadow's right to exist within a reality governed by light.
The radiance engulfed the monstrous form, not burning, but erasing. The countless wings dissolved into motes of darkness that vanished before they could fall. The skeletal arms crumbled to ash.
The massive, pale face contorted in silent, ultimate agony before fading like a bad dream upon waking. The howls of rage cut off abruptly, replaced by an immense, ringing silence. The oppressive shadow-presence vanished, replaced by a profound, cleansing calm.
The light faded as swiftly as it had come. Messiah vanished. The power sustaining Makoto snapped. All color drained from his face. His eyes rolled back. His body went utterly limp, like a puppet with its strings cut, and he crumpled towards the scorched, rubble-strewn earth.
"Boy! MAKOTO!" Azazel roared, lunging forward. He caught Makoto before he hit the ground, cradling him. The boy's body was terrifyingly cold. Azazel pressed frantic fingers to Makoto's neck. Nothing. No pulse. No flutter of life. Ice flooded Azazel's veins.
"WAKE UP!" He shook him gently, then more desperately. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare die because of me! Not like this!" He gathered the limp form, preparing to teleport, to find Grigori's best healers, to do anything.
Elizabeth materialized in front of him, blocking his path. Her usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by an unnerving, absolute calm.
"Put him down, Councillor," she commanded, her voice devoid of inflection.
Azazel stared at her, fury and terror warring in his golden eyes. "PUT HIM DOWN?!" he bellowed, holding Makoto tighter. "He's freezing! I can't feel his heart! He used that power to save me! I will not let the Messiah die! MOVE!"
Elizabeth didn't flinch. Her blue eyes held his, ancient and inscrutable. "Put. Him. Down."
The command held the weight of inevitability.
"His journey is not over. The Universe endures." She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. "Trust the process, Azazel. Even in this."