Ficticious Chaos
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Chapter 55: The Summit, Part 3
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 03:53:05 +0000 UTCIchigo let his gaze drift across the storm-wracked sky.
The Leviathan above the island was, admittedly, a rather impressive sight. What with its armored head cutting through clouds while its forked tail whipped up squalls across the sea. And around the six of them, the air teemed with thousands of flying sorcerers and Old Satan Faction Devils. The air was positively charged with their magic.
And yet, for all the spectacle that it was, it didn’t move him In the slightest.
Yes, he could sense Katerea Leviathan’s power surge, well into the ranks of what would be considered a proper Demon, a Satan-class being. But she was no true Devil. Whatever that black serpent like shadow that clung to her soul was had artificially inflated her power. She had yet to go through the actual transformation of Demonhood. As such, the volume of her Demonic magic did not match the density of a true Demon.
She was no match for him, even in his sealed state. And that wasn’t even taking into account the other five who were also decidedly stronger than her. As for the army surrounding them, they were High-class at best; hardly even worth noting. Ichigo could kill them off in droves with a few errant thoughts.
Ichigo wondered, with a faint flicker of amusement, if any of them realized they’d marched straight into their own graves.
Really, what did Katerea expect?
Azazel broke the silence first, his voice mild yet somewhat put off. “The original Leviathan was much bigger.
From across the table, Uriel’s lip curled. “Devils, the scum of the universe!” he growled, the words vibrating with familiar disgust.
Rather pointedly, Sirzechs and Ichigo ignored his comment.
The air directly above them shimmered, and in a haze of teal colored magic, the avatar of the she-Devil manifested.
Ichigo recognized her from the profiles they had in the Underworld: Katerea Leviathan was tall and had tanned skin that glowed with an unnatural sheen. Her twelve black wings fanned behind her and she had long brown hair drawn partly into a bun - the rest spilling down her back and fraying in the strong gale. That being said, her outfit for the occasion was somewhat questionable. Her purple dress was far too revealing, laying bare so much of her skin that Ichigo silently wondered if she had an exhibitionist streak. It would surprise him, if she were true to her ancestry, she probably had more than her fair share of kinks. Still, he could admit that she was rather attractive.
And best delete that thought from my head lest Tiamat catch wind of it.
Katerea’s lips curved into a sneer the moment she looked down at them. “How audacious,” she said in a voice sharp, “to gather here under the pretense of peace. To so blatantly spit on the billions who died in the Great War. On the blood spilled across countless battlefields spanning so many dimensions.”
But before she could get another word in, Azazel’s voice cut through the howling wing. “Little girl,” and despite the lazy drawl of his words, the ire in the Fallen’s Governor’s voice was so apparent that the sky briefly flashed black as midnight. “Do not dare to lecture me on a war you had not part in.”
The avatar briefly looked taken aback, but her mien once again twisted into scorn. “I have come to end this ridiculous farce! Today, two High Seraphs and two Cadre of the Grigori will die by my hand! And my greatest joy,” her eyes cut to Sirzechs and then to Ichigo, “will be to strike down the usurpers who dared take the name of Satan!”
Ichigo simply stared on blankly.
Katerea’s sneer widened as she looked at Sirzechs. “A traitor turned pretender.” And then her gaze fell on Ichigo and the venom in her eyes burned brighter. “And a lowly human daring to sit on the seat of a Crown Prince. At last the filth will be washed from our history.”
Her voice rose, heated, as she stretched her arms wide. “This vile disgrace ends tonight! We, the descendants of the True Satans, shall reclaim our birthright. We will lead the Underworld into its golden age once more! We will break our ancient enemies! And humanity,” she spat the word like a curse, “will remember we are no ancient myth! We shall-”
Ichigo began to tune her out as he had heard this ridiculous spiel more times than he cared to count ever since he had reincarnated. You’d think they’d be as tired of saying the same crap as we are of hearing it.
He turned slightly toward Sirzechs, lowering his voice. “Is she’s seriously monologuing? She does realize just how outclassed she is right now, doesn’t she?”
Sirzechs’ expression barely shifted. “Patience. She’s been cooped up with the other descendants for ages. This might very well be the first intelligent audience she’s had in decades.”
Ichigo snorted under his breath. Katerea’s projection kept gesturing grandly, completely unaware of how said audience was outright ignoring and mocking her. “It honestly sounds rehearsed.”
“It would hardly surprise me if that were the case,” Sirzechs replied smoothly. “What else has she to occupy her time, surrounded as she is by sycophants and equally deluded fools?”
Ichigo let his gaze wander back to the sky. Katerea’s true form, the Leviathan, still loomed amidst the conjured storm. Which, in his eyes, utterly failed to impress as it was hardly worth mentioning when compared to the continent sized hurricanes his Tiamat could snap into existence.
And yet the magic in his eyes went past the mythical and towards the shadowed serpent coiling black and thin, draped like a shadow over the monster’s body. He narrowed his gaze. “You’ve noticed that thing wrapped around her, haven’t you?”
Sirzechs rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m blind?”
Ichigo let the corner of his mouth twitch.
"Ophis?" he asked lightly.
"A sort of blessing, I'd wager," Sirzechs responded.
"Huh," Ichigo said, as he crossed his arms with a curious look. He had never encountered a blessing more powerful than the person being blessed. "Kind of ironic, a Devil ranting about the old ways walking around with a divine blessing."
Sirzechs let out a chortle. "Yes well, education and intelligence are not the hallmarks of deluded."
Ichigo nodded in agreement. "By the way, should I do the thing yet?"
Sirzechs considered briefly. "Hmm... no, let's give her a bit of hope. It's always fun to let them build a false sense of assurance."
"If you say so."
"I do."
Ichigo and Sirzechs turned their attention back to Katerea's projection, as she finally finished her long-winded speech. With some exasperation, he noted her arms held wide in some grand gesture, even as her eyes glinted manically.
Poor woman probably has no idea she’s being totally ignored, Ichigo thought to himself.
Much to his amusement, Azazel, who is cleaning out an ear with his pinky fingers said, "Sorry dear, could you repeat all that? I was distracted by your, admittedly, wonderful tits."
Michael let out a deep sigh and said, "Must you be so crass, Azazel?"
Azazel rolled his eyes and turned towards the High Seraph with a tired look. “Oh, don’t even start, Michael. We’re not having that argument again.”
Uriel angrily interjected. "Enough! We have listened to the drivel and droning of this wicked child long enough! Let us put an end to Leviathan's foul line once and for all!"
“You’ll get no protests from us,” Sirzechs added mildly.
Katerea’s projection faltered as she was so openly demeaned. Fury flashed across her face as she trembled with her hands clenched, and far above the Leviathan let out a deep guttural rumble, shaking with so much anger that Ichigo’s Sin briefly stirred from within his soul. But she forced herself back into control and her sneer melted into something colder, a near scathing look of regality as she lifted her chin.
“I will ensure your deaths be brutal and painful,” she declared, voice low with dripping contempt, “as they will forever mark the downfall of the Three Great Powers and the return of the rightful Satans.”
Ichigo gave her questioning glance. Seriously, how many times has she said the same thing over already?
“You do realize,” Sirzechs said lightly, “the six of us are so much stronger than you and your army that it isn’t even funny?”
For a heartbeat there was silence. Then Katerea laughed – wild and unrestrained. Her Leviathan form answered, a throaty, booming call that rolled across the sea. Ichigo found himself reminded of a whale breaching, low and scornful: a sound laced with deep malice.
The Leviathan swept it’s tail, and the reality seemed to answer, as the very world seem to twist and color grey.
Ichigo’s eyes narrowed as he sensed the thousands of Khaos Brigade’s muted souls jump in their metaphysical place, each one laced suddenly with the same shadow-serpent he could see surrounding Katerea’s bestial form. Waves upon waves of power surged over the six of them and the insignificant signatures of Khaos Bridage stretched and snapped upward, screaming high the ranks of Ultimate-class. The Earth trembled with the sheer force of it.
Azazel gave a low whistle, impressed despite himself. “Well, that’s new.”
Ichigo felt both of his brows rise. He had to admit... that was unexpected. Thousands, all powered up, and so suddenly too. Even if their foundations were brittle, the raw scale of the transformation was staggering.
Things had taken quite the shift. A single Satan-class with thousands of High-class soldiers against the six of them wasn’t something to be concerned about. But replace those High-class with Ultimate-class? A battle of this scale would wipe out the star system.
Beside him, Sirzechs spoke mildly impressed. “The Infinite Ouroboros is far more powerful than I would have ever imagined.”
Katerea’s image leaned forward, eyes bright with cruel delight. “Come now, you say you are stronger than my army? Then face them. Crush them with your considerable might and doom the Earth as your own power tears it apart.”
As the four angels’ expression twisted surly, Katerea let out another wicked laugh. “Isn’t it so sweet? That you must destroy your precious humanity with your own hands if you wish to live? Oh, but do not think of escaping. Even as the power of the Void allowed us to bypass your wards, it has allowed us to turn those very protections against you. You are trapped within.”
His eyes narrowed at the revelation, but he filed away that bit of information for later because Sirzechs let out a hum and proceeded to extend one finger in Ichigo’s direction.
He understood the cue.
“Yeah,” Ichigo said, his dry tone calling Katerea’s attention. “About that.”
He lifted his hand and called the small cube into his palm, Ajuka’s little insurance policy. The thing pulsed faintly, a green glow crawling across its facets like fireflies caught in glass. He turned it once between his fingers, then squeezed.
The cube shattered like brittle glass.
And light exploded outward, flooding the island in a blinding emerald flare. The storm, the sea, even the sky ripped away as if it were peeled back, and for a heartbeat, there was nothing but color and an oppressive magical pressure. Then the world snapped into place again.
The churning ocean was gone, and the verdant forests of the island had vanished. In their place stretched a barren expanse of cracked rock, colored a lifeless grey-brown. Above them loomed a sky black as coal, lined with a bleeding red horizon. The air was thin, sharp, and devoid of all signs of life.
Ichigo dropped his hand back to his side. “Welcome to one of Ajuka’s pocket universes,” he said evenly, eyes flicking from Katerea’s projection to the Leviathan coiled above. “Strong enough to handle multiple Satan-class beings tearing each other apart at full strength.”
He let the words hang for a moment as Katerea’s eyes widened in understanding.
Sirzechs brushed his robes straight. “No disrespect intended, Katerea – oh who am I kidding? All the disrespect intended; you’re awfully predictable, my dear.”
“We saw this coming from miles away,” Ichigo added.
“Oh, miles and miles.” And Sirzechs turned towards him. “How long ago did we predict this? A month, two months?”
Ichigo shrugged. “Hard to tell with all the time-dilated meetings. Does it matter? Even a week would have been enough with how basic the Old Satan Faction’s plans are.”
“A week?” Sirzechs smiled. “That’s a bit generous, a single afternoon would suffice. They only share two brain cells among them, after all.”
And Ichigo could feel the mounting rage of the Leviathan above, even as Katerea’s avatar shook furiously. But then, Michael’s voice came disapproving, though Ichigo couldn’t help but notice a subtle hint of amusement in his tone. “Dark Ones, you are bullying the poor girl.”
“Yeah, we are,” Ichigo admitted plainly.
As Sirzechs gave a deft nod, he said, “We’re very good at it. In fact, you may even call us professionals.”
“Enough!” Katerea’s voice warped demonically, as she finally had enough of their mocking. “I will not stand here and be ridiculed by soon to be dead pretenders! It’s time for you to die!”
Ichigo snorted. “I can’t believe she still doesn’t get it.”
“Katerea,” and as Sirzechs shook his head in faux disappointment, the she-Devil growled near animalistically, “since you fail to understand, let me make it abundantly clear: this is a trap, and you’ve walked right into it.”
And then both Satans snapped their fingers simultaneously.
The air rippled, the pocket universe bending as two new presences pressed through its fabric. And all of Khaos Brigade felt them before they saw them: the weight of ancient, titanic power answering the summons of the two Demon Lords.
Surtr Second came first. And not in the restrained, humanoid guise Ichigo was used to seeing the jovial Jötun in, but his true self.
A behemoth of living fire strode forward, his body a roiling furnace of orange and red flame. Each step cracked the ground beneath him, magma spilling into the fissures. He reached a burning hand into his own chest, the cavity glowing like a forge, and drew out a blade as long as he was tall. The sword’s molten edge dripped sparks with every motion, its glow so bright the barren rock reflected it in waves.
And then the winds tore loose.
Humbaba emerged veiled in storm, his colossal silhouette hidden behind churning black gales. The air howled around him, laced with his Auras that pressed down on every soul present. Ichigo caught the brief flash of burning red eyes and the curved horns jutting forward, barely visible through the cyclone. Where Surtr was raw fire and destruction, Humbaba was pressure and suffocation, a force of inevitability.
Together, the two Rooks took their places behind their dread masters.
Azazel was the first to break the silence after Humbaba and Surtr’s manifestation. The Fallen Governor tilted his head back and let out a bark of laughter. “Well, well. Looks like I wasn’t the only one keeping something tucked away. Mine’s not nearly as grand, though. Definitely better looking though!”
He reached into his coat and produced a jagged shard of crystal inscribed with shifting glyphs. With a flick of his wrist, the shard shattered into blue, crystalline dust, and it instantly revealed a figure Ichigo often saw in Sera’s reports.
Vali Lucifer.
The young hybrid moved with quiet confidence, silver hair gleaming under the pocket world’s crimson light as his gaze swept over all of them, briefly lingering on both him and Sirzechs. Power clung to the Longinus wielder and Vali’s presence was sharp and controlled, firmly rooted in the upper echelons of Ultimate-class. From what he knew, Vali was around the same age as him, which was damn impressive to Ichigo. Because based on his aura, he was on the cusp of becoming a Demon.
Sirzechs made a soft, approving sound. “Truly worthy of his line.”
Ichigo nodded as he felt his Sin stir in the presence of Lucifer’s blood. The abomination recognizing another offshoot of its origin. He was sure Sirzechs felt the same.
But beyond the Lucifer scion’s blood, what truly captured the attention of the two Satans was his soul… or rather, what resided within.
Albion, the Vanishing Emperor.
Though quiet and subdued, the Heavenly Dragon’s presence resonated with the weight of an ocean - unfathomable, endless, and absolutely terrifying in its stillness.
But across from the Fallen and their hybrid ally, Michael and Uriel spread their glorious, golden wings.
With a deliberate motion, Uriel drew forth a radiant sword, it’s light piercing and harsh, causing the air to shimmer around its edge.
“Joyeuse,” Sirzechs said, surprise quietly coloring his voice. “The sword of Charlemagne. I thought it destroyed centuries ago.”
Ichigo’s eyes flicked toward the mythical sword. Few now remembered, but the swords forged for the first Paladins of the Holy Roman Empire answered to a master even as their owners bent knee to a King. According to the records he had read, Joyeuse had been severalfold more powerful than even Durandal. According to legend, when Charles III failed to quell his nephew’s rebellion, he fled with his dynasty’s greatest treasures, including his ancestor’s holy sword. Allegedly, it had been consumed in dragon fire when the emperor in exile’s party was beset by a Lindwyrm mid-travel.
Apparently, that wasn’t the case.
And then Michael’s holy luminance burst bright, and adorned above his grand halo, a crown of stars appeared, flickering gold and majestic blue.
“The Crown of Immortality,” Azazel said breathlessly. “Impossible, I saw it sundered with my own eyes when Zarachiel was felled by Belial. Entire stars were consumed by its ruptured light.”
Michael merely smiled, offering no words.
Ichigo could only stare impressed. Another holy artifact thought lost to history, but this one far older. One of the greatest victories of the Great War for the Devils was when Belial slew the seraph Zarachiel. But not just the death of one of the White City’s highest generals, but the destruction of one of its most prized artifacts.
Honestly, the Crown of Immortality could rival any of the top-tier Longinus in terms of utility: it gave its wielder an inexhaustible supply of energy. No matter how much magic they cast or holy aura they unleashed, the Crown ensured that its wielder remained at full power. It also gave them high-speed regeneration that supposedly even put Ichigo’s to shame.
Either the Angels had managed to recover the relic from the Great War and repair it, or, somehow, they managed to create another one.
Azazel let out a rueful chuckle as he shook his head, “It’s a good thing we all have major trust issues and came expecting a battle.”
Sirzechs smiled in assent as he turned brightly towards Katerea. “Two Sin-infused Demons, two Cadre backed by an Ultimate-class with a Longinus, two High Seraphs, each with immensely powerful holy artifacts… oh, and let’s not forget the two giants.”
The she-Devil stared wide-eyed as she gritted her teeth.
Ichigo idly summoned Zangetsu, giving his soul-sword a lazy twirl. “Man, you’re fucked…,” he then looked at the others and jerked his chin towards the Leviathan, “Dibs on the giant monster.”
And he launched himself into the sky, heralding the start of the apocalyptic massacre.
-----
Tiamat stilled.
Her great neck lifted, scales glinting in the violet light of Infernity’s eternal skies, eyes narrowing as a chill swept over her. The gardens around the citadel fell quiet as Millicas’ training bolts sputtered out, and the hatchling lowered his hands at once at her sudden movement. “Auntie Tiamat?” he asked, uncertain.
She did not answer. Her mind strained outward, past the towers, and skies and stars… deep into the currents of Fate.
There.
The bond she had with her beloved blurred, dimming as if a veil had been put between them. For the first time since she had met him, she could no longer touch his mind. What was left in the place of his ever-present love was now – her eyes widened in recognition – a void.
There were few left in existence that could recognize the imperceptible touch of the Divine Pair. Fewer still who could trace it. But she was a primordial and a dragon. Her knowledge of the two was greater than any save the Scaled Emperors’. And so, even across dimensions, she recognized that mink touch of the Infinite Ouroboros.
Her mind reeled in understanding. Sirzechs and her beloved had planned for the rebel Devils and whatever aid they would have scoured from other malcontents. But they would not have accounted for the impossible machinations of the Void.
“Auntie, look!” Millicas’ voice cracked with alarm. He pointed toward the forest beyond the gardens.
The shadows beneath the trees had thickened, twisting together until they formed the hazy outline of a colossal serpent. Its eyes were pits of emptiness, fixed on her… and on the boy at her side.
Tiamat surged to her full height. Her wings snapped wide, blotting the sky, and she let loose a sky-shattering roar. The sound cracked across the citadel like thunder, rattling windows and sending tremors through all of Infernity. Maternal fury colored the skies with millions of arcs of lightning.
But the shadow dissolved at once, slipping back into nothingness.
“W-what was that?” Millicas stammered.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she closed a lone claw gently but firmly around him, lifting him against her chest. Her wings beat once, twice, and they soared upward in a torrent of wind. “We are leaving for your father’s domain,” she said, voice hard. “To be surrounded by your mother and his servants.”
But to herself, carried in the silence between her heartbeats, Tiamat realized a horrid truth.
For the first time in millennia, she felt dread.
-----
The sun had all but vanished when Yasaka returned to her office, the faint scent of fox-fire still clinging to her sleeves. She allowed herself a small smile at the memory of Kunou’s most recent antics. The little vixen’s control had improved, her flames more fluid and her control more precise… but not enough to keep from accidentally setting the edges of her mother’s robes ablaze. It was good progress, but still, there was much work to be done.
Yasaka’s thoughts stilled as the earth shifted.
A tremor rippled through the leylines that coursed beneath Kyoto, a subtle but undeniable faltering of balance. Yasaka straightened, golden eyes narrowing as her senses stretched outward. The disturbance did not come from the mainland but far to the edges of Japan’s domains… toward Tsushima, where the Three Great Powers were currently gathered in summit.
She rose and moved to the window and peered out towards the horizon bathed in indigo twilight. The moon lifted above the city, round and full, its silver light spilling across tiled rooftops. A prayer touched her lips before she could stop it. For her husband, and for the world to be spared a second Great War.
But then, the embers of sunlight on the horizon and the soft glimmer of the moon in the sky rippled, almost erratically.
And Yasaka’s eyes widened in alarm as a sudden cry echoed around mythic Japan… the howling of wolves.
-----
&%^#!
Oh?
Pray tell, what is this drivel? Whence come these howling, hirsute nuisances?
Of Hope? Of Monsters of Hope?
Nay, I shan’t allow it. This story is one of Demons midst Dragons and Dead. Not of…
Ah. Of course.
It would be thee.
…
If thou wouldst remain silent, then let thine actions be silent also!
Fine, fine! I sha -
#$$%&!
And came the Apocalypse, riding upon Red Wings.
A single gaze, to beget infinite dreams.
To spill onto reality, birthing impossible duality.
And it moved uncaring for the worlds it had worded.
For it was Great. For it was Red.
-----
Ajuka’s Dimension
The instant Ichigo had launched skyward, Katerea’s Leviathan body coiled and rose to meet him, blotting out half the horizon in scales the color of storm-bruised steel. Winds screamed as her immense fins beat once, driving her bulk upward like a mountain torn free of the earth. Her eyes, black pits crowned by the wraith-serpent that wrapped her form, fixed on him with a deep, abiding hatred.
A hundred miles below, the battle had begun in earnest. Sirzechs and the others unleashing their tremendous might against the thousands of Ultimate-class soldiers of Khaos Brigade.
Within seconds, the immediate vicinity of Ajuka’s infinite expanse had been devastated. A hundred continents’ worth of mass annihilated in sorceries of demonic and holy energies. It was the closest the world had been to a return of the Great War.
But Ichigo turned his attention back to the monster before him.
With a single step, Zangetsu tore through the air, its edge shrieking as it carved through the thin atmosphere. Katerea’s forked tail swung to meet it, armor-thick scales grinding against the stroke and the impact boomed like thunder and as the resultant shockwave decimated the sky, vaporizing clouds into nothingness.
Below, the earth answered. Rock shattered and heaved, jagged rifts opening as if the ground itself was forced to recoil. And a few errant Devils and Sorcerers of Khaos Brigade were blasted apart in the force of two Satan-class foes.
Katerea roared, the sound vibrating through his chest like a storm tide, and a tidal wave of purple lightning poured from her gargantuan jaws, the blast wide enough to consume entire mountain ranges. Ichigo raised two fingers, Hellfire and Demonic magic gathering in an instant. Reality warped around him, heat and ash curling in the vacuum.
“Cero Ceniza.”
The blast ripped forward, a beam of smoldering infernal red that shrieked as it tore through the Time and Space. It met Katerea’s mountain sized lightning head-on, grinding against the torrent before splitting it apart and detonating in an explosion over a thousand miles wide. The backlash illuminated the world below in curse fire, and Ajuka’s universe shook.
Ichigo snorted in contempt as Katerea surged at him. “Fucking cheap-ass Temu Tiamat.”
-----
Ah, the old familiar sound of overcompensating spellcasters screaming themselves hoarse.
Azazel smirked as he flew into the storm. Khaos Brigade was throwing everything from the get-go: flame geysers that blasted apart mountains, ice storms that could entomb continents, and ritual arrays woven with such malice they’d choke a planet. The air was thick with magic, so heavy it very nearly buzzed in his teeth.
All that power, all that malevolence – it reminded him of the good old days.
He snapped his fingers, and a jagged spear of unholy light flared into being. It hummed with restrained violence, its edges fraying reality where it touched. With a lazy toss, he sent it flying into the fray of casting sorcerers in the sky, and before it could touch them, it detonated in a column of pale, green radiance: clawing hundreds of miles into the black sky and devouring dozens of the Katerea’s army.
He chuckled. “Now that I think on it, the good old days weren’t very good at all, were they?”
A knot of Devils rushed him next, wings spread, blades glowing with enchantments that could sever steel like paper. Azazel rolled his shoulders with bemusement. “Swords? Why does no one ever use magical guns? You’d think the Supernatural would be ahead of the humans given our advantages.”
He conjured three more spears and flicked them off one by one. Each erupting into miniature suns that swallowed hundreds of miles in an instant.
“By the way,” he called out, voice carrying easily over the battlefield, “if you’re going to use Eclizian’s Formula as the bases for a widespread area casting, you should know that you need to stabilize the localized ambient mana. Or else this happens.”
He snapped his fingers, the carrying a wave of his Corrupted Light, and instantly, over a hundred mages using simultaneous casting were chain together and exploded into a shower of gore, sending chunks of flesh and bone raining down onto the ground below.
But Khaos Brigade just screamed louder and threw themselves at him with renewed vigor.
A formation of Devils took shape to his left, inscribing concentric sigils into the air with their blood.
“Oho! Blood magic!” Azazel grinned wide. “Now that’s more like it! …wait, I remember this! Are you Halphas’ brood? Poor bastard got ripped to shreds by Metatron back in the opening of the Great War. Fucking embarrassing, that was.”
The Devils snarled various swears at him.
“Rude!” He yelled with a smile.
He hurled a small bullet of unholy energy, but not at them - at the keystone anchoring their spell. It cracked with a sound like shattering glass, and the entire array imploded. The backlash was magnificent: six sorcerers erased in a blossom of wild energy, their own spellwork eating them alive. Azazel shielded his eyes with one wing. “You’d think to change the spell matrix even a little after a few millennia,” he said, deadpan. “Kids these days, I swear.”
A shadow loomed suddenly loomed over him.
“Oh?” He peered up.
A Devil magically grown to the size of a giant, armored in black iron, and with blade over a hundred meters long. The Devil swung with all his strength, but Azazel merely twirled away in the sky, his twelve wings easily helping him evade. The force of the giant Devil’s swing ripped a chasm hundreds of miles long as an entire mountain range was blown away.
“Ooooh, so close!” Azazel clapped. “But my turn!”
Azazel raised a hand, and far above, an eldritch green glow bathed the world as an unholy javelin larger than a skyscraper loomed forebodingly in the sky.
The piteous members of Khaos Brigade stared fretfully at a impossible sized weapon.
And the spear came down like a star falling out of orbit. It slammed into the ground and instantly the world erupted - rock vaporized, the air was blasted away, and an entire continent’s worth of earth simply ceased to exist. When the glow receded, there was nothing left but a crater a thousand miles across that burned with green Fallen fire.
“Wonder how the others are doing?”
-----
Baraqiel cut wordlessly through the storm of spells and malignant power. He did not waste his breath on threats or boasts; his only voice was the rupture of thunder.
His ten wings beat once, a blur of black feathers rimmed with golden bolts, and the world split with an unholy storm. Khaos Brigade sorcerers shrieked as their circles unraveled, wards shattered by the surge of his passage. He raised one hand, lightning pooling between his fingers until it burned brighter than the sun, and cast it down. A spear of gold ripped through the battlefield, vaporizing a column of Devils in a single stroke.
There was no pause. He moved again, silent and inexorable, slipping between the arcs of enemy magic even as their fell spells tore countries’ worth of earth asunder. Yet, wherever he passed, lightning followed. Dozens fell at once, their bodies torn apart mid-incantation, their screams drowned beneath the endless roar of thunder.
A cluster of Ultimate-class mages tried to encircle him, weaving their energies together into a storm meant to boil oceans. Baraqiel’s wings folded tight, then snapped wide, unleashing a corona of golden bolts that tore their spell to shreds before it could even form. The mages fell smoking to the ground, lifeless, their final words burned away.
He never slowed, never smiled, never jeered.
Azazel’s laughter rang somewhere distant, the young Satan’s clash with Katerea shook the false sky far above, but Baraqiel remained a singular storm - grim, wordless, and positively murderous.
Khaos Brigade broke around him like waves against a cliff.
-----
Vali’s delight was drowned by the roar of wings and thunder as white armor enveloped him, the Divine Dividing's Scale Mail gleaming under the crimson-edged sky. Power surged through his veins until every motion left the world buckling in his wake.
He didn’t bother with spells and tactics. Vali simply hurled himself into the enemy ranks, a silver comet cutting through the chaos. His gauntlet caught a Devil by the throat, and with a twist the body shattered like brittle wood. Two more lunged at him, blades glowing with Ophis’ blessing. Vali answered with a burst of draconic energy that blasted from his chest, shredding them into mist.
“Divide!” the Sacred Gear’s voice resonated as his wings unfurled. A pulse of power expanded outward, halving the strength of every sorcerer in its reach. Vali tore through them before they had time to even recognize the drain, crushing one beneath his heel, ripping another’s arm free with a casual wrench. Every strike detonated in white-blue shockwaves, raw dragon power mixing with the demonic blood in his veins.
But even as he reveled in the destruction, his eyes never stayed on his prey for long. Again and again, his gaze lifted skyward. Toward the Crown Prince his own age, clashing high above against Katerea’s monstrous Leviathan form.
Vali’s eyes sharpened beneath his helm. How he would love to test himself against the monstrous power of the newest Satan. Alas, Albion’s wisdom was a cool balm against the haze of battle mania coloring his mind.
That full clash would have to wait for another day. Today belonged to someone else.
-----
Uriel was grim duty, each stroke economic, precise and masterful.
His golden wings unfurled wide, each beat scattering embers of holy fire that burned through Devils before they could scream. Joyeuse blazed in his grip, its radiance brighter than the sun’s fiercest stroke as the blade hummed with ancient hymns when he swung it in great arcs. Every cut carved through dozens, bisecting sorcerers and scattering their enchantments like cobwebs before the tempest squall.
Where Baraqiel was silent lightning and Azazel a playful butcher, Uriel was righteous fury incarnate. Khaos Brigade dared to reignite a war they had no inkling of. They dared to spit on the future and beautiful potential of humanity. They stood anathema to the order and stability he and his brethren had spent eons paving the way for. So each strike of his blade was a sentence carried out for the travesties of their ignorant and depraved minds.
A phalanx of Ultimate-class mages rallied before him, shields raised, glyphs burning bright with desperate and vile incantations. Uriel gave them no chance. He swept Joyeuse down in a single punishing stab, and the holy light riding its edge erupted into a tidal wave. Their wards crumbled, their bodies disintegrated, their voices cut off mid-cry.
Uriel’s eyes narrowed as he pressed forward, the weight of Heaven’s vengeance in every measured flight.
He rose high in the sky, spreading his radiant pinions far and wide, the tips of his wings crossing through the folds of space and touching the heart of stars, drawing from their fire and pouring into his fingers. With a sweep of his hands, holy fire surged like a tsunami, rising with the colors of dawn’s gold as it blanketed the sky and fell the expanse of continents.
The wicked would find no purchase so long as he drew breath.
-----
Michael did not fight. He did not move.
High above the battlefield he floated, a serene stillness in the chaos that spread across this infinite world. Twelve golden wings unfurled until they filled the sky with such luminance, the black of this universe above him became the bright of day.
His halo shone gentle, and the Crown of Immortality above it sang with the chorus of joyous stars.
He was the Holy Sun, immaculate and clean.
His radiance poured soft, unhurried and tranquil. It bent around stone, cut through shadow and grasped fatal the hearts of Devils and mages alike. Where Azazel’s spears had drawn rage, where Baraqiel’s lightning had inspired resistance, where Uriel’s fury had demanded defiance, Michael’s light left naught but surrender.
And Khaos Brigade faltered.
Some raised their weapons, their magic, their voices, but their strength withered beneath that undeniable might. Their limbs grew heavy, their wards cracked, and their shadows bowed in submission.
And they all died in droves. They died in silence.
He did not look upon them with hatred. For there could be no malice in his glow. And there was no righteous thunder in his voice. Only a quiet certainty reflected in his eyes. Only the steady, unyielding promise of a better tomorrow.
For it was he who had cast the Serpent from the Garden: Saint Michael the Stalwart, the Twin of the Morningstar.
And like his twin brother, he offered no hope.
-----
Sirzechs did not surge forth nor rage into the fray. He spoke no word nor cast any spell.
All he did - was walk.
Casually, unhurried, each step softly treading over the barren rock of Ajuka’s manufactured reality. And even as he did so, he thought to himself that his oldest friend had such a dreadfully boring imagination. This place could use more scenery.
And he was loathe to pay mind to the struggles around him: of the Devils screaming magical blasts, of the sorcerers hurling mountains of fire and oceans of ice. For none of it touched him. Their fury broke into nothing, and in turn, nothing remained of them.
Where Michael stood radiant in the sky, Sirzechs was ruin made shape upon the earth. Power radiated from him without flourish, without gesture. It pervaded the world like a sickness, and all it touched came undone.
Enchantments sputtered, eyes withered, and flesh scattered into silent motes of dust. Whole ranks of Ultimate-class mages faltered mid-incantation and quietly ceased to be, their magic fading into the stillness of oblivion.
There was no rage in his expression, nor expectations of any kind, only a small polite smile playing on his lips as he strode calm with his arms behind his back.
Because he was the mightiest Demon to ever exist, the unquestioned Pride of the Deadly Sins, untouched and unbothered by the rabble that dared rise against him. Their strivings were insignificant, so let their deaths be the same.
For it was he who had cast the Serpent’s heirs from the Underworld: Sirzechs the Crimson Lucifer, the Usurper of the Morningstar.
And his only offer was despair.
-----
As Katerea broke from the atmosphere and teleported far into the chill of space, Ichigo took a single step and covered the ten thousand miles between them.
Air fell off his skin as the cold of the sunless vacuum embraced him. He leveled out on instinct, shoulders settling, eyes cutting down to check his bearings. From up here, he realized the “ground” wasn’t a planet at all. It had no curve, no soft drop of horizon, just a slab of land that ran flat and infinite in every direction and into a red painted horizon.
Ichigo’s mouth twitched. Trust Ajuka to build a flat earther’s paradise.
Katerea’s presence swelled, the tide of her demonic magic soaking the expanse of reality around them for hundreds of miles. And as the Leviathan swam in the emptiness of space, her magic bled into the physical world until it became permeated with raw elemental energies.
Water, literal oceans upon oceans of water manifested: an entire planet’s worth.
His eyes narrowed though, as it wasn’t the crystalline blue that colored the earth like a jewel. Instead, Katerea’s oceans ran a deep, gurgling purple, laced with her demonic miasma. And faster than thought it fell upon him, surrounding him and collapsing in from all directions.
His eyes ran crimson, and from every inch of his body his demonic power erupted out in a concussive blast, the shockwave crushing through the Leviathan’s dark seas in a hundred mile radius.
Zangetsu’s edge burned dark, Hellfire roaring with fury as it exploded in all directions like a sun, instantly vaporizing the sea above the sky.
But then, Ichigo’s brows rose a touch as Katerea simply conjured another ocean - then a second, and a third. And one after another, ocean after ocean fell upon him, but he burned them as easily as they came.
As Ichigo was pressed onto the defensive, an arc of violet drew his eye and he turned to see the Leviathan’s mouth wide open as it charged a surge of purple lighting. And Ichigo answered with another Cero Ceniza.
Again, a titanic explosion a thousand miles wide lit up the world below.
Ichigo surged forward, burning through her elemental magic, his fire searing against her water, and he brought Zengetsu down in a two-handed blow against the Leviathan’s armored head. For a brief moment, the beast’s scales held, but Zangetsu seared its way and left a scorched gash several meters long.
In the vacuum of space, Katerea’s scream was muted, but the Leviathan thrashed as Hellfire seeped into its skull, and it quickly attempted bolt away.
But Ichigo was never one to not press the advantage.
With a swipe of his free hands, the chains of Hell tore through the fabric of reality, bone white and seemingly endless. They snaked through the protective armor of water and snapped around the Leviathan’s tail, and they seared deep into her flesh.
And he heaved.
With every ounce of his tremendous strength, he pivoted his whole body, pulling the titanic monster and sending it flying. Hurtling through space, Katerea crashed like a meteor onto the lone moon of Ajuka’s dimension.
The crust shattered beneath the impact, ripples the size of mountains tore their way through the pale celestial body. Gargantuan plates peeled back and curled, the exposed mantle below glowing a fiery orange. Ichigo floated for a moment, as he took in the sheer scale of destruction.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder…
The Hell did Ajuka put a random moon here for?
Ah well, he could ask the older Demon later. Whatever it was, it served as an excellent bludgeoning device for his purposes.
A few seconds passed, and Katerea came boiling up out of the molten wound. Her scales dripped with lava that quickly cooled to solid rock in the freezing temperatures of space.
But Ichigo scowled as he saw Ophis’ shadow rise out of the Leviathan’s hide, healing the burning scar on her head and the jagged cuts of moon rock in long black stitches.
The Leviathan’s eyes glowed with black energy, and Ichigo could sense Katerea’s mind give way to bestial rage. What little reason she possessed faded as a surge of fury and anger warped through her aura.
He snorted in amusement, allowing his Sin to rise past his own skin and reach out and snake its way like poison in into the Leviathan’s mind. A mindless enemy was so much easier to deal with than a cunning one, after all.
Mind you, not that she had much cunning to begin with.
But then, the Leviathan’s mouth opened again, but this time, it grew unnaturally wide. He was vaguely reminded of serpents unhinging their jaws as they prepared to devour their prey.
That’s kinda disgusting, he thought to himself.
But Katerea’s power surged, more than doubled, really. And deep within her throat, her vile aura pulsed. And as magnitudes of demonic energy gathered, Ichigo couldn’t help but smile to himself.
He used the afforded by her charging attack to set his mind into the weaves of Fate, pulling himself deep into its eddies.
With slow, deliberate practice, Ichigo stepped into the realm of Time.
Possibilities budded and died around him. And as the currents of the infinite futures and impossible pasts shifted about, he pushed himself against Eternity’s River, looking for that gold thread of a future made of his own Will.
And he found it.
Leviathan’s breath came with muted thunder, blindingly bright as it arced several miles wide and came at him with all the speed of light. But Time bent to his Will, and he lifted his empty hand, palm up, fingers together.
And all of Katerea’s immense demonic blast warped and narrowed until it became no more than a thin beam of light that gently fell into Ichigo’s hand.
And her miasmic purple energies became a sapphire blue, an all too familiar color that never failed to set his heart at ease. And as Ichigo raised his hand, that blue beam of light coiled into a bolt of lightning framed with his will.
As Time slipped around him, phantom arms slid around his neck and his soul rang with the roar of the Chaos Karma Dragon.
And the Crown Prince of Wrath threw down her lightning.
The bolt grew as it arced through space, an spear of lightning over a mile long spiked forward and punched right through the Leviathan’s body, leaving a smoldering hole as it continued on and crashed into the moon behind.
And it ruptured with the force of a nova. The moon utterly consumed and blown apart in an explosion of blue energy.
-----
Sirzechs tilted his head back, one brow lifting as the artificial moon tore apart in a wash of blue light. Sapphire brilliance rolled across the sky, brightening the black firmament with the pure ocean hues like the skies of Earth. For a moment, the battlefield fell silent as all eyes turned Heavensward. But past it all, deeply hidden beneath the surge of Ichigo’s presence, Sirzech sensed the barest echo of Tiamat’s presence. However… it was her, but at the same time it wasn’t.
Almost as if… another Tiamat? How positively intriguing.
What did you go and do now, Ichigo?
The glow faded and as the swell of the permanent gloam retook their prepared warzone, the Leviathan’s falling form blazed across the sky. Plummeting and erupting into a grand, firey plume as she cratered mountains and shattered peaks into rubble. The shockwave rolled out and reverberated for thousands of miles, but Sirzechs stood unmoved, arms still folded behind his back.
His smile deepened.
“It’s almost Biblical,” he mused. “The serpent hurled from Heaven… you really are so amusing, Ichigo.”
-----
Ichigo let out a low breath, rolling his shoulders as the last sparks of blue faded from the void. His chest felt heavier, bones ringing with the weight of what he’d pulled from Time. Not as bad as the first time when he had accidently willed Fate against Zangetsu. This time he had been prepared, but fatigue still threaded through his body and soul.
Gingerly, he cleared his brow with the back of his hand, steadying Zangetsu at his side.
Right, time to finish this.
He folded space and dropped into the country-sized crater below. A wave of his palm scattered fire, smoke, and mountains of debris until Katerea’s bulk was revealed smoldering at the center, lava-crusted and broken. Ophis’ serpent knitting her together in sluggish black seams.
His mouth twisted grimly as, even after all this punishment, the Infinite Ouroboros’ blessing still kept her alive. Luckily, the damage this time was far too extensive to be healed quick and easy.
Ichigo raised Zangetsu high, both hands locked on the hilt, his aura snarling to life along the edge in waves of midnight black energy. A single Black Fang to end the line of Leviathan once and for all.
But the air rippled around him.
Figures blinked into place , one after another: Devils by the dozen, their bodies swollen with Ophis’ taint.
Ichigo’s eyes narrowed as they hurled themselves against him. His swing cut three apart in a single, lazy motion. A telekinetic burst blasting four more into a shower of gore. But more still came. His scowl deepened as he ducked low, cleaved another through the waist, then slammed his palm flat into the chest of the next. The body burst into cinders.
And he quickly realized they were trying to buy her time.
He frowned considerably.
A part of him wondered if they were genuinely that loyal to her - in which case, what a fucking waste – or if they had been brainwashed into it by the depravity of the Old Satans’ descendants.
But then a silver blur carved through the fray.
Vali hit like a hammer, Divine Dividing burning bright as the Longinus’ voice thundered: “Divide.”
The power of all the Devils halved in an instant, their bodies faltering as their strength was stolen so sudden. The Lucifer scion caught one by the throat and crushed him mercilessly, and another was reduced to cindered ash as he blasted with magic.
Ichigo glanced once, brow climbing appreciatively. “Thanks.”
Vali didn’t even look at him, simply continuing his slaughter.
Ichigo shrugged momentarily before using the opening to move past the Devils and stand once more above the downed Leviathan.
Painstakingly, the great beast rose its massive head, its eyes surging with remnant power colored with a maniacal hatred. Small blasts of magic rocketed towards him from its broken form, but Ichigo easily battered them aside with his bare hand.
Expended as he was from forcing the timeline, Katerea was simply far too weakened to pose a threat to him now. Not that she was much of one to being with…
With a lazy flick of Zangetsu, Ichigo cut a gash dozens of meters long along the length of the Leviathan’s body. And it let out a deep, pharyngeal cry as a waterfall of blood shot through the air.
White cracks began forming along the monsters body apart, spreading quick and rapidly until finally shattering and revealing Katerea’s broken humanoid form in its place. The Devil lay sprawled naked against the burning stone. Her skin a patchwork of burns and tears, her hair matted and frayed with the blood dripping from her skull.
The gargantuan hole he had torn through the Leviathan had healed enough to become a fist-sized hole below her navel. It oozed a black and foul sludge. Her left arm was mangled, bent and torn at odd angles, and a charred gash carved from shoulder to hip where Zangetsu had cut her open.
Ichigo landed lightly, Zangetsu resting at his side. His shoulders rose and fell in a slow, unneeded breaths. The weight of Time aching dull in his bones. Nonetheless, he stared down at her, and even now he could sense the rage and hatred swelling within her… and he sighed deeply.
What a fucking waste, he thought to himself.
For all her venom and madness, she had resolve, she had strength. If only she had bent them mind towards building instead of destroying. She could have stood with the current Satans, helped shape a new age and better future for the billions of their species. Instead, her mind was chained by phantoms, even as she worshipped their long rotted bones.
Katerea’s chest heaved as she drew ragged and broken breaths, and still her eyes burned up at him, hatred spilling plain. She bared her teeth in a cracked snarl.
“D–don’t you dare pity me!”
Ichigo only shook his head. He leveled a lone finger, red light sparking in her face as he charged one last Cero. “Pity? No, just disappointment.” His voice was quiet. “All that beauty outside, but nothing to show for it on the inside. You could have been so much more.”
Though small and steady, the Cero pulsed red as crimson electricity crawled along his hand.
But then his gut lurched.
His power halved in an instant, cleanly cut away.
Ichigo’s head snapped up, brows climbing as the mechanical voice echoed, cold and clinical: Divide!
And before he could say a word, Vali’s fist was already there. Scale-plated and in full force, it smashed across his jaw and sent him reeling back across the stone several feet.
“The fuck are you - ” His voice broke off in anger, as Vali fell on him again, wings flaring, Scale Mail blazing in white light.
Divide! Divide! Divide!
Each proclamation carved half his strength away, leaving him a hollow shell. The next punch crushed into his gut, another slammed his ribs, a third across the face. Ichigo staggered, trying to pull his defenses up, but his body dragged with exhaustion, and the Longinus’s Balance Breaker continued to thrash him.
Vali’s magic roared point-blank, a white-blue blast hammering into his chest and driving him straight through the ground, stone collapsing around him in a storm of rubble as he carved a gorge a mile long.
Ichigo lay there for a breath, blood on his lips, vision flickering and his greatly depleted reserves of Demonic magic straining to power his high-speed regeneration. He was already exhausted from warping Time, but now having to deal with Vanishing Emperor’s power robbing him of his own?
His knuckles went white as he gripped Zangetsu deathly tight, and with a great huff he pushed off the ground and set himself upright. The ache in his chest turned dull as anger raced through him.
His eyes bled scarlet, and he felt Wrath stir beneath his skin, coiling to life. His Sin answered, eager and all too willing for its power to flood the emptiness Vali had carved out of him. His very aura quaked with rage at the betrayal, the sheer gall of the young man daring to turn his fist on him.
And then his gut lurched again.
But one scale up now: instead of a Heavenly Dragon’s power, this time it was a Divine Dragon’s.
Ophis’ non-existence flooded the dimension, cold and boundless, seeping into every crack of reality. The sky split wide, like a gaping maw made of shadow, and from within a spatial rift shone.
The Hell...?
Ichigo’s head tilted back, eyes narrowing as his scowl froze. Hanging in the Dimensional Gap was a golden moon unnaturally close and immense. It was haunting, not just in beauty, but because in some unsettling way, Ichigo recognized that light. Somehow… it stirred something in his... memory? Something innate and previously unknown.
But Zangetsu roared within his soul, and every instinct screamed at him to move.
But it was too late.
A beam the size of mountains slammed into him, gold and merciless, burning through flesh, through bone, and into his very soul.
And Satan screamed
A demented and warped scream that unleashed a wave of wild and uncontrolled horror that lashed out at every atom within the vicinity.
And as the pain mounted and passed every threshold of misery and agony he had ever known, Ichigo fell into bleak unconsciousness. But even as he did so, one last errant thought slipped through: as the golden light burned him, Ichigo’s mind flickered to the sunlit warmth of Amaterasu. And he was instinctively reminded of her Divine energy.
-----
A/N: This was a chapter long time coming. I'm sure, by now, a lot of you have figured out the golden moon and the put together the foreshadowing I've laid here and there. The Divine Dragons have both now made an apperence! But what's going on with the wolves howling in Japan? Ophis is clearly not happy about them.
As far as writing, this was a very straight forward chapter, but it was very time consuming. The thing about fight scenes (for me at least) there's a danger of using repetitive phrases and words and it's quite challenging to keep things unqiue with so many different perspectives in one battle. That being said, man I had so much fun writing Michael and Sirzechs' little snippits. Juxtaposing them made me happy.
Comments
Maxuos
My best guess about that ending is that the shibas lingering divinity comes from tsukiyomi and this is some plot to make that lingering divinity in ichigo awaken, that way he is actually capable of taking the mantel of the death, but i didn't think amaterasu would be this forcefull so maybe ophis is actually for a completely different reason aiming for the same objective. Or i am completely misguided.
Jordan King
Cheap shots are so lame. I’m surprised Vali would go for something like that. Normally he’s one to overcome his opponent straight up but I’m not the most DxD connoisseur so I’m probably missing something.
