The morning air was thick, and with a silence, it was far too calm for Eiji Kuroryuu's liking.
Usually, the classroom was alive with energy—people flirting, arguing, snoring, or complaining about homework like it was a national sport. But today? Today, it felt like the school was under a soundproof spell. Even the morning sunlight felt... off. Not fake, exactly. It felt as though someone was puppeteering reality and had forgotten to flip the switch for the right atmosphere.
Eiji absently tapped his pen against the desk, his eyes sliding from the clock to Seraphina Falcor. She sat a few desks away, eyes locked on the window like it held the universe's secrets. Her lips were pursed, fingers tapping silently in a rhythm that didn't match any song he knew.
That was a sign—a big one.
When Seraphina looked that serious, something was about to explode or already had.
Eiji didn't have to wait long.
The final bell rang a shrill scream that barely stirred the students who rushed out the doors like they were escaping from a prison. Eiji was still packing his bag when he felt a subtle pulse on his wrist. The invisible communication glyph engraved there shimmered.
"Eiji. Research Club. Now."
Seraphina's voice, short and sharp, cut through his thoughts. And then nothing.
No goodbye. No context. No, please. Just now.
The Research Club's room felt more like a pocket dimension than a school facility. The scent of aged parchment, spell residue, and burnt incense clung to the air like stubborn spirits. Ancient tomes lined the shelves in organized chaos. Mystic diagrams and sigils were pinned across corkboards. A glass case in the corner held artifacts so cursed-looking that they practically whispered, 'Open me and die horribly.'
Eiji stepped in cautiously.
Miya Tsukihiro was already there, lounging on the couch with a box of strawberry Pocky sticking out of her mouth like a cigarette.
"Well, this smells like 'bad news Tuesday,'" Eiji muttered.
Miya offered him a stick without looking up. "More like 'shitstorm special.' Want one before you lose your sanity?"
He took one. "Cheers to mental collapse."
Before he could ask what was happening, the room's heavy wooden door creaked open—not just regular creaking. No, this was a dramatic, slow-motion anime villain entrance, complete with creaking.
Two girls stepped inside.
The first looked like she'd walked out of a gothic royalty simulator. Short, black, silky hair. Eyes like sharpened amethysts. Her every movement screamed I own this place. She wore the Ota Academy crest on her uniform, but somehow, it looked like she'd redesigned it into haute couture.
The second? It's a walking death flag. Crimson hair cascaded down to her back, and her face was so blank a monk might've sculpted it on an emotional cleanse. Her mist-gray eyes locked onto Eiji the moment she entered.
He felt like someone had stuck his soul in a freezer.
"Let me guess," he said, popping the Pocky in his mouth. "More devils. Because clearly, our school has a 'Buy One Soul, Get a Devil Free' deal."
Seraphina smirked. "Student Council."
"Even better. Bureaucrats with magical powers. Yay."
The black-haired girl stepped forward. "Kirika Barbatos. Student Council President. Heir of House Barbatos."
Eiji blinked. "That's a hell of a name drop. Should I bow or sign my soul over now?"
She ignored the sarcasm. "You're the anomaly Seraphina's been babysitting."
"Babysitting? Please. She practically raised me. We've got bonding trauma."
"I like you already," Kirika said dryly.
The redhead finally spoke. Her voice was soft but carried an edge like a freshly sharpened blade. "Aika Lucross."
Eiji's expression turned from amused to alert. "Hold up. You're the chick who jumped me in the alley last week!"
Aika nodded as if he had just confirmed the weather. "Correct."
"THE HELL?!"
Seraphina raised a hand. "It was a test."
"A what?"
Kirika stepped in. "A simulation. We needed to see how you'd react under pressure. Contract scenarios, enemy threats. Basic devil training."
"Right, so ambush me like I'm a horror game protagonist. That's healthy."
"You survived," Aika said. "And counterattacked."
"Yeah, and you ruined my jacket. I liked that jacket."
"I formally apologize," Aika said. She bowed slightly. "It was not intended to kill."
"That's... reassuring."
Miya giggled into her sleeve. "He's fun when he's flustered."
"He's growing on people," Seraphina said, deadpan.
Eiji sighed, slumping into a chair. "Alright. Mystery guests are introduced. Now tell me what apocalypse is dropping this time."
Kirika's face turned serious. "The Church is moving."
Silence. Absolute, cut-the-air-with-a-blade silence.
Eiji sat up straighter. "Moving? As in... on us?"
Seraphina nodded. "They're targeting Amane."
His stomach twisted. "She's just a kid."
"They want her Espiria Gear."
Kirika added, "And they're working with rogue Fallen Angels."
Even Miya froze mid-chew.
"That's insane," she muttered. "Fallen Angels and the Church? That's like oil teaming up with napalm."
"They're desperate," Kirika said. "And desperate enemies are dangerous ones."
Eiji's fists clenched. "So what now?"
"We form a temporary alliance," Kirika replied. "Your group. Mine. If a war comes to Kusunogi Academy, we won't face it divided."
Seraphina placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "We protect Amane. No matter what."
The sky was bleeding orange that evening as Eiji, Miya, and Amane walked home together. The tension was as thick as concrete. Every footstep sounded louder than it should. Eiji kept scanning rooftops and alleyways like a hawk.
"Being hunted by angels now, huh?" Miya said, sucking on a candy lollipop. "Just another Tuesday."
"Technically, Fallen Angels," Eiji corrected.
"Oh, well, that's just sunshine and roses."
Amane didn't say much. She kept walking beside Eiji, her fingers brushing his occasionally like she was trying to stay grounded.
Then, the world twisted.
A ripple shimmered in the air, and everything went still in the blink of an eye. Birds froze mid-flight. The wind died.
A barrier had slammed down around them.
"What the hell?!" Eiji growled, his eyes lighting up with faint glowing patterns.
Miya spun around, fingers already forming a spell circle. "This isn't normal. Multi-layered wards. High-level stuff."
The sky flickered like static, and she appeared.
Descending with wings blacker than regret, her eyes glittered like stolen rubies. Her curves would've belonged on a magazine cover if they weren't currently being used to carry enough killing intent to flatten a building.
She smiled like a cat finding a box full of mice.
"Ahhh... I finally found you, little gear girl," the Fallen Angel purred.
Eiji shoved Amane behind him. "You're not getting her."
The angel landed without a sound. "Let's test that."
The fight wasn't cinematic—it was warfare. Spells cracked the pavement. Shadows burned holes in the air. Miya launched holy chain spells like she was dealing tarot cards. Eiji's punches came faster than a camera shutter, reinforced with unrefined power.
But the enemy was fast. Precise. Elegant.
And she wasn't trying to kill.
She darted past them both like a bullet of shadow, her hand wrapping around Amane's wrist before anyone could blink.
"NO!" Eiji roared, lunging.
The barrier flared again, slowing him. Just enough.
The Fallen Angel giggled. "She's the key, you know. But you'll figure that out too late."
With a blast of wings, she vanished.
Amane was gone.
The air returned to silence, but it wasn't peace.
Eiji stood there. Frozen. Shaking. His fingers curled into fists that bled.
"I... I couldn't stop her..."
Miya walked up, gently placing her hand on his back.
"I'll bring her back," Eiji whispered. "No matter what it takes."
Above them, the stars flickered like eyes.
And the first war of the new age had begun.
End of Chapter