The briefing started at dusk.
Rias had commandeered the ORC's main room, pushing furniture aside to create a makeshift war council. Maps of Kuoh spread across the central table. Patrol routes marked in red. Enemy positions in black.
The exorcists sat on one side - Xenovia rigid, Irina tapping her fingers against her thigh. Kiba had claimed the spot closest to the door, hand never far from his sword. The rest of the peerage filled in around them.
Mira stood in the corner. Watching. Waiting.
"Teams," Rias said, her voice carrying the weight of command. "Assault group: Kiba, Xenovia, and Ryder. You'll breach the primary entrance and draw attention." She looked at Kiba. "This is not a vengeance mission. This is reconnaissance in force. Understood?"
Kiba's jaw tightened. "Understood."
He didn't mean it. The Enhanced Analysis flagged every tell - the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes kept drifting to the map's church marker.
He's going to go off-script.
"Obviously. Trauma doesn't wait for permission."
"Second team," Rias continued. "Irina and Koneko. Flanking approach from the east. Your objective is to locate and secure any hostages."
"Got it, partner!" Irina flashed a thumbs-up. Koneko nodded once.
"Third team is myself and Akeno. We'll provide aerial support and barrier maintenance." Rias's crimson eyes found mine. "If the ritual reaches critical mass, we abort. No heroics."
She's looking at me when she says that.
"You do have a reputation."
I'm working on it.
"Intel confirms Kokabiel's forces at approximately two hundred fallen angels," Xenovia reported. "Most are low-level, but his inner circle includes several cadre-rank warriors."
"Valper Galilei is also present," Irina added, her cheerful tone dropping. "He's overseeing the fusion ritual."
Kiba went still.
Valper Galilei. The architect of the Holy Sword Project. The man who killed Kiba's family - children experimented on, discarded, murdered for failing to become weapons.
His trauma.
The Watcher's words from yesterday echoed. His trauma will be your downfall.
"The ritual is at sixty percent," Xenovia continued. "If they complete it - "
"They won't," Kiba said. His voice was flat. Dead. "I'll make sure of it."
Rias opened her mouth to respond -
The wall exploded.
[RESTORATION ATTACK: EXTRACTION TEAM]
Scout #1 (Chronos) aged my blade to dust.
Scout #2 (Silence) nullified sound - no casting.
Scout #3 (Rust) decayed the floor, dropping me to the basement.
Three on one. Shackled by tactics.
[ECHO STATUS: 44%]
[Dohnaseek's combat instincts: AVAILABLE]
The basement was dark. Cold. The floor above groaned, debris raining down.
I could hear fighting upstairs - the crash of Xenovia's blade, Akeno's lightning, Koneko's fists. But down here, it was just me and three Restoration agents.
Chronos approached first. His hands glowed with temporal energy - the same power that had turned my blade to rust. "The Core is separated. Extraction proceeds."
"Negative," Silence said. Her voice was barely a whisper, but I heard it through the dampened sound. "Protocol requires - "
"Protocol is obsolete." Rust stepped forward, the floor decaying under his feet. "The Watcher wants him unstable. We make him unstable."
They're trying to break me. Push me toward 50%.
"They're doing a poor job of it." The Fragment's voice was calm. Almost amused. "Shall we show them what real instability looks like?"
No. Controlled. We do this controlled.
"Boring. But acceptable."
I let Dohnaseek's instincts flow.
Not takeover. Integration. The precision. The contempt for weakness. The cold calculation of a veteran killer.
Chronos lunged. Temporal touch aimed at my chest.
I pivoted. Used his momentum against him. My reconstructed blade - demonic energy, not steel, so his aging couldn't touch it - swept up in a perfect arc.
His head left his shoulders.
The satisfaction that flooded me -
Pathetic. Died because he was slow.
WASN'T MINE.
But I used it anyway.
[ECHO SPIKE: 45%]
Silence and Rust froze.
"Report," Silence whispered. "The First Fragment is stronger than data suggested."
"Extracting now is unwise," Rust agreed. "Retreat. Reassess."
They vanished into shadows I couldn't follow.
The mark on my wrist pulsed. Hot. Hungry.
"Closer," the Watcher's voice echoed. "Every day."
I climbed out of the basement through the hole Rust had created.
The ORC was a disaster zone. Walls cracked. Furniture shattered. Scorch marks everywhere.
But the peerage was intact. Xenovia had taken a shallow cut across her arm. Akeno's hair was singed. Everyone else looked battered but functional.
"Scouts?" Rias asked as I emerged.
"One dead. Two retreated." I dusted debris from my shoulders. "They know I'm here now. They'll report back."
"How long before reinforcements arrive?"
"Twenty-four hours minimum," the Fragment estimated. "Extraction teams travel light. Heavy support requires coordination."
"Day, maybe less," I said. "We have a window."
Rias processed this. The Enhanced Analysis tracked her decision-making - calculated risk, operational tempo, asset preservation. She reached the same conclusion I had.
"Tonight," she commanded. "We hit them now."
"The ritual is at sixty percent," Xenovia objected. "If we wait - "
"If we wait, the Restoration brings reinforcements. If we wait, Kokabiel completes his fusion." Rias's voice brooked no argument. "We move in three hours. Full assault."
Kiba's eyes had already gone distant. Lost to calculations I couldn't follow. Lost to ghosts I couldn't see.
I put a hand on his shoulder.
"Together," I said. "Not alone."
He looked at me. For a moment, something human flickered behind the vengeance.
"Together," he agreed.
But the word sounded hollow.
The next two hours blurred.
Weapons checked. Wards reinforced. Communication protocols established. The exorcists prayed - Xenovia silent and intense, Irina cheerful even in supplication.
Kiba sharpened his blade. Over and over. The sound of steel on stone filled the silence.
Mira found me on the roof.
"You killed one of them," she said.
"Chronos. Temporal manipulation." I touched my wrist where the mark still burned. "The others will report back."
"The Restoration doesn't forgive. You've made enemies."
"I had enemies before."
"You had a Watcher." She moved to stand beside me - three meters away, always three meters. "Now you have both. And in - " She paused. "How many days?"
I checked. The number surfaced without prompting.
"Seventeen."
"Seventeen days until the Watcher's deadline. You're at - "
"Forty-five percent." The Echo had climbed during the fight. Dohnaseek's satisfaction, now integrated. Part of me. "Rising faster than before."
"Integration is the only way out."
"Or suppression."
"Suppression just delays." Mira's voice softened slightly. "I've watched hosts try. They break eventually. The Echo builds, the pressure mounts, and one day..." She trailed off.
One day they become something else.
"One day they become me," the Fragment agreed. "Or something wearing their face."
Encouraging.
"Truth rarely is."
The mark glowed in the darkness.
Eleven days. The Watcher's voice had said eleven during the fight. I'd lost track of the exact count - the psychic assaults scrambled time perception.
"Seventeen days to 50%," the Fragment corrected. "The Watcher rounds down. He enjoys the drama."
He's trying to scare me.
"He's trying to destabilize you. Fear, rage, grief - all catalysts for Echo acceleration." A pause. "He's using your friends' trauma because yours is insufficient. Kiba's vengeance. Asia's faith. Rias's responsibility."
And if I integrate before he can push me over?
"Then he loses leverage. Integration isn't suppression - it's synthesis. A stable hybrid doesn't break the way an unstable host does."
So we integrate.
"When you're ready. Forced integration is worse than breakdown."
How do I know when I'm ready?
The Fragment was silent for a long moment.
"You'll know. Or you won't. There's no third option."
The assault was in two hours.
I stood on the ORC roof, watching Kuoh's lights flicker in the distance. Somewhere out there, Kokabiel prepared his fusion. Somewhere out there, the Restoration regrouped. Somewhere out there, the Watcher watched.
Kiba appeared beside me. Silent as always. His sword hung at his hip, freshly sharpened, hungry for blood that hadn't been spilled yet.
"Valper will be there," he said.
"I know."
"I'm going to kill him."
"I know that too." I turned to face him. "But not alone. And not at the cost of the mission."
"The mission is personal."
"The mission is survival." I met his eyes and held them. "Kill Valper if you can. But come back alive. That's not optional."
He considered. Something in his expression shifted - not acceptance, but acknowledgment.
"You sound like Rias."
"Worse. I sound like myself."
A ghost of a smile. Gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Eleven days, little thief," the Watcher whispered. "Then you belong to me."
I didn't answer. I was too busy planning how to save my friends.
And if Kokabiel got in the way - I'd add him to the list of problems to solve.