I stood amid the ruins, Laevateinn still radiating heat in my hand, when the first scream cut through the night.
Reality crashed back like a physical blow.
The city. The people. In my rage, I'd forgotten where we were, forgotten everything except my need for answers. My vision, so focused on Azazel during our battle, now expanded to take in the devastation around us.
Buildings with gaping holes punched through concrete and steel. Shattered glass carpeting the streets below. Fire alarms wailing, their shrill chorus joining the distant sound of approaching sirens.
And the people.
Civilians gathered at the edges of the destruction, some filming with their phones, others helping the injured. A woman cradled a bleeding child. An old man sat dazed on the curb, his face streaked with dust and blood.
"Shit," I whispered, the sword's flames dimming slightly as horror replaced rage.
I'd done this. In my single-minded pursuit of answers, I'd turned downtown Shinjuku into a war zone.
Azazel stepped up beside me, his expression grave as he surveyed the damage. "This is why I wanted to talk somewhere private."
My jaw clenched. "Don't."
"We need to contain this," he said, ignoring my warning. "Every supernatural faction in Japan just felt what happened here. And the humans..." He gestured to the gathering crowd below. "They saw everything."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
—
Three days later
The headline on the newspaper read: "MISHIMA CORPORATION LEADS EARTHQUAKE RECOVERY EFFORTS." Below it, a photo showed emergency workers in Mishima-branded gear helping clear debris from what remained of a high-rise apartment building.
I set the paper down on my desk, rubbing my eyes. I hadn't slept much since that night. How could I?
The official story, now accepted by everyone from local officials to international news outlets, was that Shinjuku had experienced a localized but powerful earthquake. Structural engineers had been quoted explaining how the unusual damage pattern resulted from the area's specific geological features.
Not a single mention of a battle between supernatural beings. No amateur footage of a man in black armor wielding a flaming sword. No witness accounts of a twelve-winged angel hurling spears of light.
Azazel's memory manipulation had been thorough and precise
Still this wasn't me. The real me would never have been this reckless. This impulsive.
I was having a hell of a time controlling my emotions, and the dragon's elixir had influenced me far more than I'd ever realized. I'd been so focused on the physical benefits that I'd completely overlooked the psychological effects.
Each passing day, I could feel it changing me. Making me more aggressive. More possessive. More willing to bare my teeth at the first sign of a threat. Dragons weren't just powerful; they were territorial, possessive, and absolutely fucking intolerant of anyone trying to control or fooling them.
This won't do I need to do something about it.
Then-
"The final reports are in," Alessia said, entering my office with a tablet. "Seventeen injured, no fatalities. Property damage estimates stand at approximately 3.2 billion yen."
I nodded, relieved that no one had died. That had been my biggest fear, that in my rage, I'd caused deaths I couldn't undo. Well not yet.
"The relief fund?"
"Fully operational. Medical expenses covered, temporary housing secured for the displaced residents." She scrolled through data on her tablet. "The reconstruction contracts have been signed. Work begins tomorrow."
I'd mobilized every resource at my disposal. Emergency response teams, medical staff, construction crews, PR specialists, all deployed within hours of the "earthquake." Money flowed freely, bureaucracy melted away, and the Mishima name opened doors that would have remained closed to others.
It was the least I could do.
"And the... other matter?" I asked.
"Reports from various factions confirm what we suspected. Your display of power has not gone unnoticed. The Norse and the Hindu are particularly... intrigued."
I bet they were. One of their legendary weapons, wielded by a human teenager against the Governor-General of the Grigori? I imagined Odin himself was probably laughing somewhere in Asgard.
"And Kokabiel?"
"No sign yet. But Azazel reports increased activity among certain fallen angel factions. Movements that suggest preparation."
I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the Tokyo skyline.
I already had my suspicions, it was Kokabiel, the moment the church showed me evidence that there was a fallen angel involved I already knew It was probably Kokabiel. But I wanted to know it from Azazel directly, I wanted him to tell it to me, but he hid it. Lied to me. And it hurt.
"There's something else," Alessia added, her tone shifting slightly. "Sona Sitri has requested an urgent meeting. She seems... concerned about recent events."
Of course she was. I'd effectively announced my supernatural nature to the entire supernatural world with all the subtlety of a nuclear explosion.
"Tell her I'll meet her after school tomorrow." I turned back to my desk, pulling up more reports on the reconstruction efforts.
Alessia nodded and turned to leave.
"And Alessia?"
She paused at the door.
"Thank you."
A small smile touched her lips. "Just doing my job, sir."
After she left, I sat alone in my office, thinking about how quickly everything had changed. In a single night, I'd gone from a hidden player in the supernatural world to a name on everyone's lips.
—
The student council room was empty when I arrived, save for Sona herself. She stood by the window, silhouetted against the afternoon light, her posture rigid. I closed the door quietly behind me, but she didn't turn.
"Do you have any idea," she said, her voice carefully controlled, "what you've done?"
I set my bag down on a chair. "Hello to you too, Sona."
She turned then, violet eyes sharp behind her glasses. "Don't. This isn't the time for your usual deflections."
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth would be a good start." She crossed her arms. "A flaming sword that made even my sister nervous. The Kavacha and Kundala—divine armor that was supposed to be lost centuries ago. And power enough to fight the Governor-General of the Grigori to a standstill."
She shook her head. "I knew you were strong, Leon. I've always sensed that. But this..."
I walked to the chess table and sat down. "I never claimed that."
"No, you didn't." She moved to sit across from me, her movements precise, controlled. "But there's quite a difference between 'strong' and 'wielding weapons that terrify gods.'"
"I didn't think it would matter to you."
"Not matter?" She leaned forward, voice rising slightly. "The Four Great Satans held an emergency meeting about you. My sister called me personally to ask about you. Every faction is scrambling to reassess their position now that they know what you're capable of."
That got my attention. "Serafall knows about me?"
"Of course she does." Sona's eyes narrowed. "She's the Leviathan. Did you think you could unleash that kind of power and the rulers of the Underworld wouldn't notice?"
"What did you tell her?" I was curious.
"That you're the Mishima heir I've been working with on our hospital project. That you've never shown any hostility toward the devil kind." She hesitated. "That I... trust you."
I fell silent.
"When I heard what happened in Shinjuku, do you know what my first thought was?" She continued.
I shook my head.
"I wondered if you were safe."
Sona..
Now I feel like shit.
"I've never met anyone like you," she continued. "Someone who challenges me intellectually. Who sees me as more than just the Sitri heiress or Serafall's little sister."
"You've always been more than that to me," I said softly.
Her eyes met mine, and for once, the careful mask she always wore slipped entirely. "What am I to you, Leon?"
The directness of the question caught me off guard. In all our conversations, all our chess matches, we'd carefully danced around this, whatever this connection between us was.
"You're..." I searched for the right words. "You're the first person in this world who made me feel like I belonged somewhere. You saw me. The real me."
"That's not a very precise answer."
"Precision isn't always possible with feelings."
"Feelings?"
I reached across the table, covering her hand with mine. Her skin was cool to the touch, but she didn't pull away.
"Yes, feelings. Complicated, messy, completely illogical feelings that I don't know what to do with." I smiled slightly. "Especially since you're a devil heiress and I'm... whatever I am."
"A human with draconic essence, divine armor, and a world-ending sword," she supplied helpfully, but there was a hint of humor in her voice now.
"See? Complicated."
"I've never been afraid of complexity."
"No, you haven't." I squeezed her hand gently. "It's one of the things I admire about you."
"Just one?" A small smile played at the corner of her mouth.
"I could list others, but we'd be here all day." I paused. "And I suspect you still have official devil business to discuss."
She sighed, though she didn't withdraw her hand. "Yes. Unfortunately, I do. The various factions are watching you now, Leon. Some will see you as a potential ally, others as a threat."
"And the Sitri Clan?"
"That depends." Her expression grew serious again. "What are your intentions?"
"Right now? Find Kokabiel. Make him pay for my parents' deaths. After that..." I shrugged. "I haven't thought that far ahead."
"You should." Her grip tightened on my hand. "The supernatural world doesn't allow for improvisation. Alliances, territories, power balances, these things matter."
"And where do you fit in all this?"
Her violet eyes held mine. "Where do you want me to fit?"
The question was loaded with implications, possibilities that stretched far beyond our current situation.
"By my side," I said simply. "If you want to be there."
The blush returned to her cheeks, deeper this time. "That's... a significant statement."
"I mean it."
For a long moment, she just looked at me, something vulnerable and uncertain in her expression. Then, with deliberate care, she leaned across the chess table.
Her lips were soft against mine, the kiss brief but unmistakable. When she pulled back, her eyes were wide, as if surprised by her own boldness.
"I've never done that before," she admitted quietly.
"Was it okay?" I asked, equally soft.
A small smile touched her lips. "Acceptable.
I couldn't help laughing. Only Sona would analyze a kiss like a scientific experiment.
The moment hung between us, fragile and precious. For a few seconds, we were just two people acknowledging a connection that had been building for months.
Then reality intruded in the form of a knock at the door.
Sona withdrew her hand from mine, composure returning instantly as she adjusted her glasses. "Enter," she called.
Tsubaki opened the door, her expression professionally neutral. "Forgive the interruption, Kaichou, but your next appointment has arrived."
"Thank you, Tsubaki." Sona's voice betrayed nothing of our previous conversation. "I'll be with them shortly."
As Tsubaki closed the door again, Sona turned back to me. "We're not finished with this discussion. Both the official and... unofficial parts."
"I look forward to continuing both," I said, rising from my seat.
"Leon." Her voice stopped me as I reached for the door. "Be careful. Kokabiel is dangerous—more dangerous than you know."
"I will be."
"And..." She hesitated. "Come back. When it's done."
The simple request carried weight beyond its words. It wasn't just about returning physically, but about coming back to her, to what we'd just acknowledged between us.
"I promise."
And I meant it.
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