The room was quiet, cloaked in dim moonlight slipping through the curtains.
Arthur lay on his bed, still dressed in his black funeral shirt, now unbuttoned and wrinkled.
His jacket lay discarded on the floor, his tie hanging loosely from the nightstand. His body was physically exhausted, but the real weight sat in his chest.
In his hands, he held a piece of paper.
It was old parchment, delicate and lined with scriptures carefully inked in golden script.
Gabriel had handed it to him quietly before she left, no grand speeches or dramatic declarations, just a simple, honest gift.
"If you ever find yourself in need, use this. And I will come."
She told him.
Arthur exhaled, his breath shaky.
His fingers traced the edge of the paper.
Then he gently placed it on the nightstand beside him.
He turned over onto his side, his back to the world.
His body ached from grief, from the weight of a goodbye that would never get easier.
"…I'll get used to this feeling... eventually."
He murmured.
Then, silence.
His eyes closed. And he drifted off.
...
When Arthur opened his eyes again, he was no longer in his bedroom.
He stood in a familiar space.
This was his inner world where he and Ddraig shared their thoughts.
And waiting for him was a massive red dragon, his emerald eyes piercing through the smoke.
Ddraig.
Arthur exhaled and stepped forward, the echo of his footsteps ringing faintly through the realm.
"Yo."
Arthur greeted casually.
Ddraig's deep voice rumbled in reply.
"You look better."
Arthur gave a tired shrug.
"Still feel like hell... but less depressed, I guess."
Ddraig's massive tail thumped once against the ground, not in irritation but in acknowledgment.
"You faced your first true loss and you stood tall. Well done."
Ddraig said.
Arthur looked up at him, then away.
"Tried to."
Ddraig leaned his head forward slightly, a playful smirk in his draconic tone.
"I'm also impressed. Not every day a Cambion forges a bond with an Archangel."
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"You were always watching, weren't you?"
"I always am. It's my job to observe you... partner."
Ddraig rumbled proudly.
Arthur crossed his arms and exhaled.
"So? Why am I here?"
Ddraig's smirk vanished.
His eyes grew sharp.
"Because, it's time you get your shit together."
Arthur blinked.
"What?"
"Remember, the enemy has seen what you're capable of and lived to tell the tale."
Ddraig said firmly.
"What happened two weeks ago was not the end. It was the beginning. You awakened your Longinus, you revealed your demonic heritage, and now you've become a target of the Old Satan Faction and possibly the world."
Arthur clenched his jaw.
"I know that."
"Then act like it, Arthur!"
Ddraig growled.
"Every second you waste grieving is another second they grow stronger. They will come back to finish what they started and possibly involve you extended family in the crossfire."
Arthur's fists trembled at his sides.
"Then tell me what the hell am I supposed to do?!"
He snapped.
Ddraig grinned, eyes flaring with wild fire.
"Two words."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"Huh?"
"Training montage!"
Ddraig declared proudly.
Arthur blinked.
"...Seriously?"
Ddraig's wings flared out as his voice boomed across the realm.
"It's just that simple, partner! Train until your bones break and your muscles tear! Train until you reach your limit! And when you do, train until you surpass it! Train until you can train no more!"
Arthur stared in stunned silence.
"You are now the Red Dragon Emperor! You carry the Power of Destruction in the palm of your hands! The past wielders of the Boosted Gear have thrown away peace, comfort, and even love in pursuit of their destinies because this world does not wait for hesitation!"
Ddraig roared.
He stepped forward, the ground shaking under his massive claws.
"There are always those who destroy families, who spread war, who crush peace beneath their heels in the name of their beliefs or superiority. They will burn the world just to prove a point. And to that, I say..."
Ddraig reared back and *roared* with all his might.
"FUCK ALL OF IT!"
Arthur's eyes widened.
Ddriag's voice lowered, serious again.
"The words of your enemies mean nothing! Their ideals, their reasons, their plans, they're just noises in the background carried by the wind. If you want to train, then train! If you want to fight, then fight! If you want to kill, then kill!"
He pointed a massive claw toward Arthur, fire blazing in his emerald eyes.
"But do it without hesitation. With clarity, with purpose, and with only if YOU said so!"
Arthur felt a heat was bubbling inside him.
Not just the heat from the inner world, but an inner fire, burning deeper in his soul.
"I've watched many of my previous wielders die in regret."
Ddraig said solemnly.
"Some early. Some broken. Many were consumed by doubt, unsure of their place in this cruel world. But you..."
His claw lowered, and his voice grew soft but firm.
"You are the most talented host I've ever known. Maybe even the only one who could change everything. I will not sit idly by as a one-in-a-million existence sulks in the dark."
Ddraig lowered his head and gazed at Athur's form.
"So tell me, Arthur Pendragon! Are you going to wallow in self-pity for the rest of your life? Or are you going to draw the line in the sand..."
He slammed his claws down.
"AND RAGE?!!!"
"..."
Arthur was completely silenced by Ddraig's words.
He looked down, a shadow hiding his eyes.
And then his voice came, quiet.
"That night... when I lost everything…"
Arthur whispered.
He saw it again, the flames, the bloody image of his mother, the sinister smirk on Euclid's face.
"That moment… all I wanted to do… was to destroy everything."
His hands shook as he clenched his fists hard.
"There was only one thing I felt that night."
He raised his head, eyes blazing beneath shadowed bangs.
"Revenge."
Arthur said with venom.
"You're right, Ddraig. The world won't wait for me to get my shit together."
He took a step forward, fists clenched.
"I'm going to fight back. And I'll make sure that albino fucker suffers a thousandfold for everything he did."
Another step.
"And not just him. I'm going to wipe the entire Old Satan Faction off the face of the earth! And if anyone gets in my way, they will all burn! Anyone, even the gods themselves!"
He stopped in front of Ddraig, fire in his eyes and fury in his voice.
"That... is a promise!"
Ddraig's heart roared with pride.
He could see it now, the warrior clad in red scales, cutting down all his enemies with righteous fury, destroying everything in his path.
Arthur raised his fist, the edges trembling with newfound resolve.
"Will you fight beside me, partner? Will you follow me as I break the threads of fate?"
He asked, voice deadly serious.
Ddraig grinned wide, his ancient soul alight with joy.
"Until the bitter end, partner."
Arthur's fist rose higher.
His lips curled into a smile but not the innocent one he once wore.
This smile was now bloodthirsty.
"Then let's show this world the true meaning of hell."
Arthur growled, his eyes glowing red.
Ddraig slammed his claw forward, their fist and claw meeting in a fist bump.
"Partner, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words."
The dragon boomed.
The fire spread across the realm, red, wild, hungry.
Arthur Pendragon is no longer fucking around.
And the world would soon know it.
DxD
In a castle shrouded by darkness, a dim throne room sat in eerie silence.
Jagged spires loomed over the blackened halls, and flickers of blue flame lit the cold stone walls.
At the center of this chamber, atop a throne carved from obsidian, sat a silver-haired man draped in regal blue and silver robes, his sharp eyes dulled with boredom.
He tapped his fingers against the armrest, each sound echoing like a drumbeat in the oppressive silence.
His long silver hair framed a face of ageless arrogance, and a neatly trimmed beard did little to soften his expression of utter disdain.
His gaze wandered toward the towering doors across the chamber before he exhaled, frustrated.
"Ugh… this again. Another day of nothing. How mind-numbingly dull. When will those Brigade brats gonna be done with their shit?"
He muttered.
He closed his eyes, just about to drift into a nap out of sheer disinterest, when the throne room doors groaned open.
His azure eyes cracked open with a spark of irritation as footsteps echoed across the chamber.
A figure entered, slightly hunched, his steps slow, his body covered in bandages that were stained with blood.
He moved with pained obedience before kneeling at the base of the throne.
"Lord Rizevim."
Euclid Lucifuge said with reverence.
Rizevim opened one eye fully, raising a brow.
"What the fuck hell happened to you? You look like you lost a fight to a toddler."
He asked dryly, staring at the cuts and blood.
Euclid remained kneeling, his head bowed.
"I came to report my findings regarding the human world, my lord."
Rizevim let out an unamused snort.
"You're wasting time on such boring shit? What are you doing playing around in that boring cesspool of dirt and monkeys?"
Euclid gritted his teeth beneath the bandages, forcing himself to remain composed.
"Do you recall the exorcist woman Sirzechs protected nearly two decades ago?"
Rizevim leaned back in his throne, folding one leg over the other as he narrowed his eyes.
"Hmm… vaguely. And?"
"She and Sirzechs had a child together. A boy named Arthur Pendragon."
Euclid said.
The name hung in the air for a moment.
Rizevim's gaze sharpened, but his tone remained unimpressed.
"...And?"
Euclid swallowed his breath.
"He possesses one of the Seven Excaliburs, inherited Sirzech's Power of Destruction, and the Boosted Gear. A Longinus."
A long silence followed.
Rizevim didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Then...
"…That's it?"
Euclid blinked.
"M-My lord?"
"That's your grand revelation?"
Rizevim asked, voice laced with growing irritation.
"You come crawling under my heels, looking like you got trampled by a horde of tumbleweeds, just to tell me that a hybrid brat has some flashy toys?"
Euclid hesitated.
He then recalled a silver-haired boy who'd vanished from their grasp last year.
Another hybrid with a Longinus.
"…That is what I am concerned about, my lord."
Euclid added nervously.
"He reminds me of Vali. Your grandson, he too had a Sacred Gear. The Divine Dividing. This boy… could be-"
"-A threat?"
Rizevim interrupted with a scoff.
"Should I be afraid, Euclid? Should I tremble and piss myself in fear because two half-breed misfits crawled out of obscurity with some oversized lizards in their chest?"
His fingers drummed against the throne, then stopped.
The air changed.
Without warning, a silver aura began to surge from Rizevim's body.
It wasn't loud, it wasn't explosive, it was subtle yet unbearable.
A crushing pressure swept across the room like a tidal wave.
The walls groaned and the floor cracked.
Euclid gasped as the weight slammed into his back, pinning him to the floor.
Blood splattered from his mouth as he struggled to breathe.
The stones beneath him fractured under the sheer pressure of the aura alone.
Rizevim didn't even stand.
"You forget who you're speaking to."
He said, his voice cold and cruel.
"I am Rizevim Livan Lucifer. The Son of the Original Lucifer. The True Heir of the Morning Star. And the guy who will rip your guts and use them as a noose if you piss him off."
He leaned forward slightly, and the aura sharpened like a blade.
"I do not fear freaks of nature. I erase them."
Euclid cried out, blood pouring from his nose, eyes, and mouth as he clawed the floor, his body trembling violently under the weight.
"The next time you interrupt me with trivial shit like coughing babies with hydrogen bombs. I WILL kill you."
Rizevim hissed.
And just like that, the pressure vanished.
Euclid gasped for breath, collapsed in a pool of sweat and blood.
He shakily pushed himself up and lowered his head in shame.
"Y-Yes, Lord Rizevim… F-Forgive me."
"Get out."
Without another word, Euclid limped out of the throne room, leaving behind only silence.
Rizevim leaned back with a yawn, his irritation faded, his mood indifferent once more.
"I show him a sliver of power and he pissed himself. Pathetic."
He muttered.
He rested his head on one hand and let his eyes fall closed, prepared to finally nap.
But a single name lingered in his thoughts.
Arthur.
Rizevim frowned slightly, though his eyes remained closed.
"…Another little half-blood brat."
He thought briefly of Vali, of that same rebellious spark in his grandson's eyes.
"Maybe he's alive… maybe not."
He mumbled.
"But who gives a fuck?"
And with that, Rizevim drifted into sleep, the cracks in the throne room walls the only evidence of his brief, terrifying irritation.
The calm before the storm.
DxD
Hello readers!
GIVE ME ALL YOUR POWER STONES OR THIS ACCOUNT WILL COMMIT TOASTER BATH! (p.s.: this is a joke, don't disown me please)
Thank you everyone and see you later!