Disclaimer: I do not own Highschool DxD or Nasuverse works, they belong to their respective creators.

Of Man and Demons

Prologue

By: dabananaman

Cackles... I heard cackles.

Submerged in the void of unconsciousness, a distinct sound reached me.

The malignant laughter of fire.

My nose twitched, I frowned.

Death was here-and it was overwhelming.

I relented to open my eyes, but a beacon lit up at the far end, as consciousness crashed onto me.

The curtains withdrew, there indeed was fire.

The mountains, the plains, everywhere was alight. It was as though God's wrath was unleashed.

I lofted through the clouds, a phantasmal existence.

Just then, invisible force barreled through the land, ripping lands and churning mountains.

I was immediately drawn to it.

Descending from the skies, what once looked light an ocean of ants, became an unending stream of monsters.

Legions upon legions of vulpine abominations, all converging on a basin nested between hills.

I strained my eyes, barely making out the silhouette of a man.

He was a maelstrom, dancing and jittering throughout the infernal horde.

His arms, what I could make of it, were whips of water.

They rapidly alternated pin-point strikes and elegant, almost half-hearted strokes that barely grazed the opponent, composing a harmonious symphony.

Bodies piled up all around him, and a blossom of crimson sprung forth from the spring of death.

Then, as soon as it began, it ended.

The insurmountable landslide was halted, reorganized into mountains of decaying flesh.

I stood behind him, watching him, his even breath didn't seem to match his shoulders.

Just by one glance I could tell... they belonged to those carrying the weight of the world.

But... how could I know?

There was no time, my eyes jerked skywards, to the horizon, where a black, galloping mist of monsters raced towards us, the very ground shaking in fear.

I looked at him, and for that split second, a tear materialized in the air, and a shortsword shot out, landing in his hands.

It was as long as an arm, with a garnet red blade. Patterns, flowing like waves of towering tsunamis, lettered it.

He set his right hand forth and... made a shallow slash on his palm?

Beads of blood fell onto the blade, and it reignited, as if life was breathed into it.

The man wielded the now scarlet weapon, glowing with barely restrained power, with his good hand.

Without ado, he began chanting an aria.

"I sacrifice myself to you,"

With those few syllables, the sword seemed to respond, it's murky radiance clearing up by the second, a giant rising from slumber.

"now, reveal your true self!"

He swung the sword, and a unseeable brush redesigned the canvas with haphazard strokes.

Everything was devasted, damaged beyond recognition by the ethereal force that emanated from the blade.

The invincible wave of creatures fell, their carcasses imploded, as if they were killed from within.

... Wait.

He didn't release it.

He didn't say it's name.

This wasn't the full power of the, no doubt, Noble Phantasm.

An attack more or less equal to Excalibur...

What?

... What the hell was that?

An eerie silence bestowed the ravaged landscape, but he was as tense as ever, almost as if still expecting another threat.

Then I felt it.

First it was a gently shake, then it became a rising thump, and finally, when the earthquake stopped, I was at a lost for words.

A shadow, of apocalyptic proportions, loomed over us.

Before I could get a clear hold of what it was, radiance erupted.

It was as warm as the Sun's embrace, but containing scorn a thousand times stronger than the hottest dessert.

The flames passed through me, I didn't exist.

I wondered about the man, and saw that, moments before the dawn of death, he breathed.

The train of doom met him head-on, but just as he was to meet demise, the inevitable parted away.

No matter how hard it blew, the flames never reached that man, a barrier that which could not be seen protecting him.

It ended. The stranger stared defiantly at the monstrosity, as two other blades shot out, the dull reddish one being released, floating in the air.

One was a perfect combination of black and white, red hexagonal patterns sprawling and fading away in the haze of a cloud.

The other could only be described as... otherworldly.

It was a holy sword, one which's power could be felt even without it being released in the slightest.

Carvings of civilization were etched all over it.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it changed.

Azure blue power erupted from it, not having the slightest essence of holiness, it's makeup was far more... human.

However, it's output exceeded any holy blade of legend, even that of the King of Knights.

The man leaped into the face of danger, his arms coming up to intercept multiple strikes from it, creating shockwaves that destroyed the Earth bit by bit.

I could no longer keep track of their gratuitous battle, the damnation was too bright, forcing me to look away, and I could no longer keep track of the rate at which they exchanged strikes.

As my vision darkened, and I felt the familiar anchor of reality pulling me back, only one thought lingered.

That Holy blade...

"Guh!"

I awoke with a gasp, perspiration adorning me.

My head throbbed, painfully so. It must've been that dream.

That dream...

It seemed so surreal, but some deep, instinctive part of me denied that, for all it's impossibilities, I felt that there was a fragment of truth behind it. No normal dream could be so easily burned into my mind, afterall.

Ignoring the drill mowing through my head, I got out of bed, and forced myself into the bathroom. Performing the usual routine, I cleaned myself up and got ready for the day. Nothing noteworthy having occurred in the process. I'd long given up on taming my hair, whose fringe always changed altitude and sometimes even directions every morning.

In fact, it might even be an undiscovered true magic.

Jokes aside, I brushed my fringe, naturally slanted to the right, revealing the left of my fore while gradually covering the rest. I ran my palm through the soft surface, curbing any stray strands of upright hair.

After a tenuous period of two minutes, I gave up, it'd fade away naturally, and I had long since stopped paying so much attention to the more physical aspects of life. In my youth, I had thought of myself to be handsome, an idea reinforced by my peers. My face lacking strong jawbones but obvious contours, eyebrows that were intense and slightly arced but not overly so, a lip not too wide and not too small, with two ebony eyes adorned with "beautiful" eyelashes and double eyelids. Along with my black-brown hair and "gorgeous" fringe.

Even though appearance is a concept rooted purely in personal preference and feelings, I think I can safely say I'm not ugly in the slightest.

Though I had been called, jokingly, as an asian trying to be a caucasian, my features more prominent but not that well defined.

It didn't matter though, appearance was just a slight modifier in life, to me at least. All the various bonuses and advantages afforded by "looking" good, could be earned through sweat and consistency. Well, that's what I think anyways, I don't go around imposing my thoughts on others.

I quickly changed, I had a meeting in the clock tower with my master soon, and the last time I was late I had a taste of many of his delightful "pranks".

My attire consisted of nothing but a grey t-shirt and jeans, but they were laced with so many charms and runes that those of the moonlit world' think twice before engaging in battle with me, but that never happens, much to my delight.

I did enjoy a good fight.

I chose to leave my conventional weapons out of this one, the Mage's Association in London was well guarded, any supernatural being wouldn't even think of attacking, and I had more than enough of spells to destroy pretty much anything.

Checking that all was set, I vacated the house with a snap of my fingers.

The first thing I noticed when I rematerialized was the old, dusky smell that pervaded my nostrils.

Yeah, no mistake, this was the Clock Tower, old and grim.

As I made my way into the building and up to his office, on-lookers parted away from me, occasionally cupping their hands together and whispering something to others.

Out of curiosity, I expanded my hearing, and heard things like "Bane of the Moonlit", "Impossible prodigy", "Bladedancer". Of course, there were also insulting ones like "Lowly easterner" or "inhuman" and so on.

Funnily enough, I heard "Second coming of the Wizard Marshall" as well. Flattery aside, there'd be no way I'd take up the position. I become dangerous after long periods of deskbound duties.

And more importantly, I already had a goal in life.

Making my way through the colossal building, as the creaks and cracks of old mahogany wood reverberated through my ears, I ignored the progressively increasing glares sent my way. They were also being directed to me from older and older people.

Relics of the past, I called them.

It wasn't so much as their old age than their unwillingness to adapt that led to their moniker. I respect those who are old with wisdom, and try to adapt to newer generations. They who understand the current circumstances, and choose that which is appropriate to guide the inexperienced.

It's too bad though, many of the elder spooks here had neither the intelligence, nor the maturity to do that. They'd prefer to keep to themselves and their craft, only giving a damn about the outside world when it poses a threat to them, no I mean, their thaumaturgical studies.

I understand the importance of keeping one's thaumaturgical theories a secret, but unlike the rotting minds of the Association, I actively worked to contribute to the better of the human race, rather than try to reach a goal as abstract and meaningless as the root.

To me, reaching the root is only an action, it is the driving force behind that action that matters, as is with almost everything else in my life. Almost all Magi wanted a glimpse at Akasha simply because their ancestors did.

A hollow cause, how laughable.

But then again, my philosophy isn't perfect, and I sure am not perfect as well. I still remember very vividly how my fellow apprentice in training, one Rin Tohsaka, unleashed utter hell on me after I laughed at her when I learned of her non-existent cause for joining the Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War. In the end, her white haired boyfriend, Shirou Emiya, came to my timely rescue.

And like her, he also didn't have a cause of his own, or rather, he inherited it from his father. Eventually, we sat down, chatted and became good friends. I'd even go with him on particularly risky missions sometimes, and receive pleading from Rin right after she denounced his importance to her to ensure his safety.

What a tsundere that woman was.

That was two years ago, back when I was eighteen, 2020. How could I forget, I mean, I still have the mental scars left by Rin's Kaleidoscope powered Gandrs, needless to say, they hurt like hell.

And if those two impressionable people didn't leave their mark on me, meeting one King of Knights certainly did. While I could tell from a single glance that the adorable blonde haired woman was a servant, it took me a full moment to recover from the shock of acknowledging her identity, even though she carried the scent of a dragon... and had a very obious stout air around her... and had a sword, which's aura could be felt even under that strange Bounded Field.

... Now that I think about it, I guess I was just in denial of the obvious.

Looking back, I could safely say even when constrained by a weak vessel and class restrictions, King Arthur, or should I say Arturia, truly lived up to her title of the King of Knights, the one and only that wielded the strongest holy sword in existence, a candidate for Grand Saber. Her skills were top notch, being able to keep me moving, even though I was under the effects of a restriction spell by my own volition.

It didn't matter where I striked, or what elaborate traps I set, Saber would just plow through them elegantly, evading my every attempt to gain a foothold in the situation. It was as though she knew what I was doing, wading through the minefield of death, acting on subconscious instincts bordering on precognition alone.

After a long protracted stalemate, I finally cornering Saber with a series of cumulative moves. In response, she shed Invisible Air, and revealed her trump card.

Excalibur... calling it the mightiest of holy swords would only be an insult, it was so much more than that. Just by gazing at it's light, I could feel the aspirations of soldiers, warriors past and present, their echoes ringing true in that blade, exemplifying a desire to be renowned. At the same time, it also reminded me of so much pain and cynicism, the exalted light of Excalibur was simultaneously so similar to that of death, that final pit stop before the end.

The light at the end of the tunnel, a distorted imagery of the world, displayed by dying nerves struggling onto the thread of life, but to no avail.

Perhaps it was my warped mentality, but I wasn't awed into submission, and thus earned myself precious time to prepare for the beam of false hope.

Even though I was fine, the surounding landscape was reduced to char. Luckily we were in another unpopulated dimension when the fight took place, or else the lawsuits would've come endlessly.

The look on Saber's face was absolutely monumental, she started fussing over every detail, all previous traces of her dignity lost.

Heh, who knew King Arthur was a sore loser?

I was so submerged in my own thoughts that I never realized I'd already reached his office, till my head booped the door, my body on autopilot the whole time. Shaking myself out of the trance, I entered.

"Hey there old man." I said, closing the door.

In front of me, seated behind a wide desk, was Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, also known by his various other titles such as Wizard Marshall, Kaleidoscope, Old Man of the Jewels. ... Also my mentor, and a pseudo-guardian figure.

He was clad in his usual black blazer, worn over that neck collared suit with silver ornamentation. In his hand was a glass of red wine, which was put down as I entered. It was only when I sat down, did he begin. "So, how is my little cupcake doing?"

I grunted, he always had to call me that. "Cupcake" was a nickname Zelretch gave me when he found me as an orphan. He took me in, and began calling me that after awhile, as I was smaller than him and was a total softie on the inside. "Would you please stop calling me that?" I asked, a metaphorical question by all rights, I already knew the answer.

"Nope!"

I massaged my forehead in silent frustration. Despite having lived with him for a good while, there were still times where the old man's antics were unbearable, and this was when he wasn't trying to fool around. Setting that aside, I decided to get a grip on the situation, Zelretch messed with others frequently for his own fun, but that rarely applied to me. Chances were that if he called me here on such short notice, then it was something serious. And when he got serious, well...

"So Zelretch, mind telling me why you called me here?"

"Can't a magician see his adorable, little apprentice every once in a while?" As expected, Zelretch danced around the bush, with that godforsaken smile on his face. Hmm... perhaps I could help him remove that... by massive blunt force trauma.

Keeping my cool, my face fell into a blank expression of disinterest, no need to fuel the fire further. The gray-haired man's laughter died down after a moment, as I internally rejoiced. Clearing his throat, Zelretch began, "I've been getting reports from my familiars. Seems the scope and scale of your operations are increasing."

Concern radiated from those red orbs, making me slightly uncomfortable in the well furbished chair. This was gonna happen sooner or later, might as well get it over and done with.

"Now... I'm not going to stop you, I know it's your dream, your goal to enact vengeance against those who slaughtered your family," I kept a firm facade, but at the mention of that, my heart began to crack.

"but it's dangerous, so-", "Are you done?" I interjected harshly, we'd been through this many times, and he always got the same answer, so why, why repeat?

Why rouse buried emotions?

Why force me to relive my nightmares?"

He gestured placatingly, and I begrudgingly allowed him to continue. "As I was saying, it's dangerous, even if your main targets are the "Devils", there is still a certain amount of risk, so I thought you could use some help."

Help? From where?

As if reading my thoughts, Zelretch continued, "I am sure you have heard of servants."

Servants?

Hmm...

Now that I think about it, the old geezer might be onto something.

Based on my limited knowledge, A class servants such as Artoria, were in the same league as high class devils, and from what I've heard, there were many stronger potential servants than her. It wasn't just physical parameters or the scale and power of Noble Phantasms that came into consideration when delegating the "strength" of a servant. It was too much of an abstract term, there were simply too many unaccounted variables, too much unknown.

But aside from that, I could field no small number of servants with my simply inhumane reserves of Od, totaling at about fifty-thousand units of Prana when converted, and still leave enough breathing space for my own spells.

It was a gift and a curse all in one, honestly.

Being the human with the most amount of Magic Circuits to ever grace the Earth, two thousand Magic Circuits with one thousand five hundred substitutes in total if I remember correctly, landed me comfortably on the top of the shit list of the Clocktower, or also known as the "Sealing Designations". That was without how all my Circuits were patterned symmetrically through my soul, forming an intricate grid not unlike that of the human nervous system

Magi all over the world wanted to get a literal piece of me, they'd probably wage genocide just to accomplish that. But the ones that were stupid enough to actually try? Yeah... bad ends are plentiful.

It always puzzled me, why was I bestowed upon this peerless double-sided sword. Earlier into my life, when I first began my tutelage under Zelretch, I'd learned of my... unique circumstances.

It was my origin.

Having unique origins are really blind leaps of faith. On one hand, we have Magus simply enacting mysteries unreachable by others simply because of their origin, on the other hand... we have people who struggle to learn everything due to the same cause. It could practically determine the fate of a Magus.

For me... it seemed like the latter case till Zelretch gave up on teaching me external spells, and taught me Gandr. It was then I knew where I truly shined. It seemed that the universe, in order to compensate me for my inability to even comprehend the act of enacting traditional external spells like grand rituals, bestowed upon me unmatched talent in the field of internal manipulation. Simply put, all mysteries generated from my Od matched, or even eclipsed that of Mana, while reducing the costs by a huge factor.

All thanks to my origin of "Jonathan" and "Self", though I was the first recorded case in history to have my own name as an origin. And thank goodness it didn't have my last... I think it's better to not think about it at all.

"Ahem." I came face to face with my mentor's disapproving gaze. I looked away in embarrassment immediately, seems like I zoned out for the umpteenth time. Seeing that he got a hold of my attention once more, Zelretch spoke," Now, I am going to repeat myself one last time, so listen carefully." I nodded, I could afford to miss nothing.

"I thought you could use a servant. Just one, as you specialize in small squad tactics, and your operations require precise strikes rather than brute force." I agreed wholeheartedly.

Sensing my approval, the Wizard Marshall got up, and made his way across the room. A bright silver teleportation circle lit up under his feet, illuminating the otherwise gloomy room fit for one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors. "Come on, we are going." I promptly followed him, as my mind wandered to possible locations of the ritual.

It was a narrow search in all honesty. There were few places one Earth the Kaleidoscope could not simply barge into with so much as a snap of his fingers. Remove the ones that didn't have the equipment to facilitate servant summoning, and the results you got was close to zero.

In fact, the only place that I could think of that fit both criterias was...

Chaldea?

If the obvious insignia was any reliable indication.

Grey walls spanned my peripheral vision. There was a blast door, heavily reinforced by the looks of it, with four guards each equipped with matte black armor and a Scarab compact assault rifle.

I knew those pieces of tech, they were manufactured by Crytek.

A quick Structural Analysis yielded negative, it seemed the room was magically shielded, more than adequately so. My curiosity an undying flame, I wasted no time working around the defenses. At last, after a brief period, I slid through, and the secrets were all mine.

I almost wished I hadn't though. With new sensory input relayed into me, I could see all the hidden weapon emplacements and traps. From fully automated machine guns that shot enchanted hypersonic flachettes capable of nailing down servants, to railguns pacing enough kinetic energy to destroy a tank, to prototype volt guns that fried the nervous system just by glancing hits.

The walls were no better, they were reinforced with magically enhanced Carbon nanotube armor, capable of withstanding an obscene amount of damage. They made the toughest of conventional armor plates look like paper in relation to steel.

And last but not least, each and everyone of the death traps were shielded by a myriad of mystical and mundane means. They were immune to technological sabotage, and only the most prodigal of Magi could enact the simplest of spells on them.

Looking downwards, I found myself to be standing on a circular transparent panel that was wide enough to fit a cargo truck completely. Peering beneath the transparent glass engraved with mystical markings, I saw machinery, smooth and sleek, yet conveying magnitudes of power. Repeating the same trick I had done just before, I fully expected the functions of the strange apparatus to be revealed to me, only to be rebuffed by static continuously after a few tries.

It seemed that the apparatus was extremely important. Only that would warrant that much protection. But without precise details, I could only guess.

I looked downwards for a moment, silently acknowledging the fact that my master moved on to converse with the guards. It seemed like he was well known here, which was all the more better. Jogging towards Zelretch, I quickly came up with a conclusion to that device.

It was a relay, of sorts. If my guess was correct, then the magic circle Zelretch possessed was only the first part of the key, that panel was the second. It could rapidly analyse passengers mid-transit, and filter out unauthorized ones. Hey, maybe it could even suck the information out of enemies trying to hijack the circle with some random quantum technobabble!

Seriously, with the stuff the mundane world has now, I don't even wanna think about what they had here. And from what I knew about Chaldea, they stood beyond cutting-edge techology.

It wasn't unbelievable. With the aversion of "Light-year Genesis" in 2016, Chaldea was heralded as the saviors of humanity by the UN in secret, and thus received a massive boost in funding. Simultaneously, the near extinction of humanity seemed to cause a ripple to spread throughout mankind. Petty squabbles between countries quickly ended, international pacts were formed with little hesitance, and acceptance of different ethnic groups and religions quickly became widespread.

Humanity was now moving forward as one, or well, the official version said so. It always bugged me, how previously dubbed "controversial" technology like genetic engineering, nanotech, AI development would suddenly be welcomed by people worldwide with open arms. And countries giving up top secret technologies for the "good of mankind"? Yeah right.

Crytek was also formed during this period, acquiring experimental blueprints and geniuses all over the world, they had quickly become the world's leading company in technology.

To me, it seemed like no small dose of "brainwashing" was involved, with the Counter Force most likely behind it. Either way, humanity was growing stronger by the day, and that was fine by me. Although I'm a tad bit worried about the sudden change. Alaya was pushing humans as a whole forward, most likely to meet a new threat, one that I had a hunch of.

I sighed, my questions would be answered soon enough, might as well not think so hard till then.

Increasing my pace, I caught up with the old geezer, as we proceeded deeper into the facility.

We'd been walking steadily for a good ten minutes. The first half making our way down the hallway that offered a clear view of the snowstorm outside, and the latter half navigating our way through a labyrinth of corridors. The paint scheme of the facility as a whole it seemed, was a calming stark white, in clear contrast with the gunmetal grey exhibited glamorously at the welcoming mat.

Perhaps it was to keep the staff relaxed? I didn't know what businesses Chaldea poked their nose into, but if they had the power to prevent humanity from being wiped out, then it was safe to assume that it was pretty darn taxing.

But really, a research facility? More like a military organisation researching tech. Up until now, every acre that I've scanned was positive with tools of massacre. Just what were they guarding against? The welcome mat packed enough firepower to kill multiple servants in a single volley, and even the insides were full of armaments.

There were few creatures on Earth as powerful as servants, so just what were they fearing?

We stopped in front of an elevator door, just as a ray of light sweeped through Zelretch.

"Spiritron scanners, looks through the soul. Impossible to fool." Zelretch explained. My eyes widened slightly. Spiritrons were quantum particles that formed the soul, I had picked that up in my brief schooling in the Clock Tower. But I had never thought Spiritron-based technology would be actualized so soon.

Then, out of the blue, the beam stopped when it reached me. It's once calm cyan blue becoming an angry orange within a matter of moments. Hidden emitters embedded in the walls sprang to life, forming a web of threads that weaved through my very being at a hectic tempo. My heartbeat started rising as adrenaline flooded my system, I had already formulated multiple plans to escape. If need be, I could break through the glass, and brave the frozen mountain air. My body was fully capable of doing so.

The emitters, working in tandem, would occasionally jerk, blinking and emitting patterned sounds.

Something wasn't right, and the machines didn't know why. And if I had to hazard a guess, they'd sick the turrets on me the moment they reached the end of their contingency coding.

Reacting against my pessimist predictions, the orange beams reverted back to sky blue, as they dissolved. "Must be a glitch in the system." Zelretch assured me as we entered the elevator. Only darkness met my stare as I looked out of the viewing panel. With the ding of closing doors, we began our descent.

A comfortable silence hanged in the air, until the reflections on the metal buttons brightened. Turning around, I was greeted by something I would've never imagined in my wildest dreams.

Outside the viewing panel, displayed in all it's dark glory, was a man-made cave. The cavern was illuminated by the faint blue glowing of angular patterns running through interconnecting black plates that occasionally arced skywards at the end. But what had really gotten hold of my attention, was the tower that loomed across all in the dimly lit landscape. It was made of interlocked metal slates that were positioned at different angles on every layer, forming an illusive helix. The lines converged together, forming serveral terminuses that was connected straight to the base of the gargantuan structure.

Maybe it was their uncanny resemblance to Magic Circuits that put me on edge, as I calmed my mind and expanded my senses. I sensed gargantuan amounts of Magical Energy pulsing inside the patterns, all of them fed directly to that tower.

Whatever it was there, it must've been a Prana hog.

But I wasn't done yet in the slightest, tracing back the Magical Energy all the way back to it's origin, I quickly retracted my senses, lest my nerves be seared.

I gulped, coming to the foreboding conclusion of my little enterprise.

This place... it was built on multiple major leylines!

To be able to effectively wield power of that magnitude...

Just what did Chaldea do?

What sort of geniuses do they harbor?

And most importantly of all, why did Zelretch know so much.

...

Why did Zelretch know so much?

A split second rant proved to be the progenitor of a moment of intuition. I gazed sharply at my mentor, suspicion rising within my heart. Deciding not to beat around the bush, I inquisited, "Zelretch, just how much are you not telling me?"

He was caught off guard, if the widening of his eye was anything to go by. But being Zelretch, he soon recovered, and laughed. "You were always too sharp for your own good."

I kept my stare firmly leveled, not satisfied with his jolly fooling at all. Calming down, he began. "I'm sorry Jonathan, but these things that I didn't want you to know are crucial to our efforts."

Crucial to our efforts? What was so important that he couldn't tell me? I thought our bond went deeper than just a simple student-teacher relationship, could he not just afford a single penchant of trust in me?

"It's like you said," the vampire continued, "information is on a strict need-to-know basis. Imagine you knowing everything, and then getting captured, the enemy would obtain crucial data. They'd be able to severely hamper our efforts at safeguarding humanity, jeopardising the safety of countless others."

But still...

"Is that truly what you want?" He finished, with a look that rivaled my own in terms of intensity. His reasoning was like tiny glaciers that chipped away at my rage. Slowly but surely, the fire subsided, and the rational part of me took over once more.

Dammit, I'd done it again!

"I...I'm sorry Zelretch, I didn't mean to... you know..." I could barely croak out an apology, if it could even be called one, shame overwhelming. How could I so casually betray my own ideas? But my master accepted it fast enough.

Placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, he said, "The answers you seek will be given to you soon enough, for now, just be silent." I nodded, there was nothing more that needed to be said. I looked out the window, fixated on that monolith sticking out of the ground, my heart thumping in anticipation.

There was so much I needed to know.

The clockwork of metal gears could be heard from behind as we entered the nerve center of the entire facility. Ahead, men and women of different racial groups and nationality were seated behind desks, typing away at holographic keyboards with information I couldn't fathom. In front of us, stood a woman of average height, with snow white locks trailing down to her midback.

She wore a black dress accompanied by yellow, with rose red stockings and high heels. The woman reeked of the authoritative air of a leader, and almost immediately had I recognized her as Olgamally Animusphere, the head of the Animusphere house and one of the thirteen lords of the Clocktower.

She turned around to greet us, those ember orbs displaying respect and gratitude as she bowed lightly to Zelretch. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Wizard Marshall." As they begun the long, arduous process of "engaging in formalities", I took a quick glance at the director of Chaldea.

She was beautiful by all rights, but what caught my attention wasn't her looks, but her scent. She smelled... different from a human. Not so much that she'd be a non-human, but not quite right either. I'll have to find out, it'd be devastating if Chaldea was infiltrated by a potential hostile.

"Is he the test subject?" My ears twitched, test subject? Snapping my head towards the origin of the sound, I came face to face with the director's judgmental gleam. I quickly checked myself out, becoming self-conscious all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the primitive drive to attract the opposite gender?

"I'm not impressed." She stated with an off-handed wave, and so was I. Rules of nature aside, had I known we'd be coming to such a formal location, I'd certainly have had an entirely different choice of apparel. Right now I looked like a guy going for a beach party in the middle of summer, right in the Command Center of perhaps the most important agency on Earth.

Yeah... totally would've had a different choice of clothing.

Attempting to salvage the situation at hand, I extended my arm, and with a charismatic smile, introduced myself. "I'm Jonathan, apprentice of the Wizard Marshall, no surname. Nice to meet you, Miss Animusphere."

Backing up a little, she replied, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid our relationship is purely of a formal one."

Ouch, that hurt.

But with a smile of her own, she reprieved me of my pain. "But please, do call me Olgamally or Marie, for short."

"Thank you, Olgamally," I said, withdrawing my hand in the process. It was certainly less than I hoped for, but more than I expected. And such distance was to be expected from such a prominent figure like her. For all one knew, behind every friendly face encountered in the supernatural world, laid a bed of knives, especially so for those in promiscuous positions. I could sympathize fairly well with that fact.

Oh and before I forgot...

"Olgamally, if I may..."

"Yes?"

"Is your body that of a human?"

Her jaws dropped, as her face resembled that of a deer in the headlights. Seems like I had hit a critical spot, though judging by the expression on Zelretch's face, it was more of a personal question, I guess, than the danger of being exposed.

After no short moment, Marie regained her wits. Her face a perfect depiction of dilemma, she explained, "It... was destroyed in an attack during Chaldea's investigation into the first temporal singularity encountered in the Grand Order Conflicts."

Ah, I see. No wonder all the added security, they'd been sabotaged before on the eve of an important event. Manners not forgotten, I had hastily apologized to Marie for such a blunt intrusion into her privacy, mentioning my reasons for doing so afterwards. She'd waved it off, saying my concerns were completely justified.

For no reason, my guts of me highlighted a possible link between her and Zelretch. Their involvement was likely deeper than mere acquaintances.

It was far fetched, but my guts were accurate mostly. It matched with how Olgamally looked at Zelretch. If he saved her, then she'd be grateful by all means.

Breaking me out of my monologue, Marie asked, "How did you find out about... it?"

Oh ho, this was where the fun began. Coaxing my face into an impassive mask, I replied, "It's your scent."

"M-My s-scent?!" The white haired woman stammered. Wasting no time to zone in on the kill, I pressed on.

"Yes, all humans have a distinct 'smell' of sorts, you just deviated from it a little." I revealed in a deadpan manner, though on the inside I was a mess of cackling fireworks. Placing my palm against my forehead, I began rubbing it in a dramatic manner, as if calming a raging headache.

"My, my, director. Whatever were you thinking?" I added, with a admonishing smile laced with a bit of hopelessness directed at Marie. The dash of pink that previously graced her cheeks began blossoming like the flowers of spring, as a tick mark bulged out of her unblemished temples.

"H-How d-dare you!" In her flustered state, Olgamally looked like a mother trying to reprimand a disobedient child, but desperately failing to keep a straight face while doing so. Her eyebrows constantly twitched, with confused facial muscles not knowing whether to voice out her fury at being undermined so casually, or to resonate whatever else she was feeling at the mention of such a precarious topic.

But... it was really cute, and that was pretty much all I needed to keep me going.

Our banter continued on for a good while, with Zelretch getting a good laugh out of it. Finally, in a never before seen act of kindness, the greying man decided to put our poor director out of her prolonged misery. "Jonathan has been trained extensively under multiple branches of Chinese Martial Arts, and due to his prodigious talent, he has mastered many of them. As such, his senses are far beyond that of a normal human's."

I squirmed a little, my old man had blown several facts out of proportion. I only learned Shaolin Martial Arts and a few others, and while it's philosophies and tchniques greatly complemented my hybrid style magecraft, I was not close at all to mastering any of them. Just take my other master for example, he could instill a death like state upon me with so much an act as just exhaling, while standing a good few dozen meters away.

Such was the power of one who had mastered the internal arts. Obtainable only after decades of thorough training even with my talent.

Though I must say, through the arduous mental and physical conditioning, I've attained the optimum modern human state. That included the ability to see a candle miles away, hear the Brownian motion of particles in the air, have smell many times superior to that of a dog's, and able to go toe-to-toe with servants physically. Though the latter should also be attributed to my exclusion from civilization for far too long, and my subsequent inability to be reintegrated into Alaya's domain afterwards.

It's a hunch, but I blame my origin for this, though with the circumstances involved, I should be thanking it instead.

Back to the present, seeing that my adorable victim was on the verge of stability, I gave one last parting shot. Gently, I spoke, "But Olgamally, jokes aside, I do think you smell pleasant."

If she was a Sakura before then, now Olgamally was a fully matured tomato. I could almost see the steam rising out of her ears, as one of THE ten lords of The Clocktower broke down right in front of us. Lava boiling underneath her cheeks, Olgamally barely stuttered out an excuse as she retreated to her office to retrieve some items.

And before she took so much as a single step, the heel of her shoes slid, as she fell, or would have, had I not caught her in time.

"Th-thank you." Olgamally muttered, dazed. Unsteadily getting out of my grasp, she attempted a cough to regain some semblance of dignity, before setting off for her office, cheeks hot.

I smiled, playing around was so fun. Even with the body of an adult, I still retained some childish mentality. Though being the apprentice of the Troll, one could hardly blame me now could they?

But still, Olgamally's reaction was far stronger than I had imagined.

I wonder why? Was she never teased before?

There was more to her than met the eye apparently, but I'll just let things happen naturally.

A low chuckle resonated into my ears as I thought. Turning around, I found Zelretch silently laughing.

"What?" It was nothing more than a conversation starter really, I already figured out why he was so upbeat.

Those ruby red orbs beared onto me, conveying joviality and mirth. On an exasperated note, Zelretch said, "Oh it is nothing, you just never change do you?"

"Nope!" I cheerfully beamed, a perfect mimicry of Zelretch's own expression while submerged within the hazy pleasure of being an irresponsible pustule of society.

His face did an immediate hundred eighty change however, as he cautioned me, almost chastisingly . "Though I do hope you know your limits. I will not save you from a pack of rabid females again.

A strong mental image shocked those memories awake, causing me to scratch the back of my head while laughing nervously.

Ever since junior high, I couldn't help but flirt with girls all the time. And add in the fact that I was a hopeless romantic as well, it wasn't a surprise that I broke many hearts along the way. There was the briefest glimmer of hope for change when Zelretch took me in, but it was quickly snuffed out too. And with my luck, I found out women of the twilight world were many times scarier than their counterparts in not time.

With so much under my belt, I guess it was safe to say I was intimately acquainted with the saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

But really, who else ould flirt with girls unconsciously? I must've been cursed from birth.

Hey... maybe Zelretch did it for shits and giggles!

And speaking of shits and giggles...

"Why are you scolding me all of a sudden?!" I faked a hurt look. "I'm just following in the footsteps of my big, strong master, and I got scolded!" With a look of faux admiration, I continued, "I mean only one person would be demented enough to receive pleasure from other's suffering, and now I'm starting to resemble him!"

"Boy, you are two thousand years too young to challenge me!"

"Oh yeah?!" My facade broke down almost immediately. What succeeded the staring contest between student and master was joyous waves of laughter. Zelretch and I, we were an odd pair really, with our own unique and wacky personal dynamics. Humor, even in the most heavy of atmospheres, was commonplace between us. It almost always lightened the mood, and sometimes served as a reminder of how much we trust each other.

The clanking of heels on the floor alerted us of Olgamally's return. Seemed she had long since regained her composure. That blush was long gone, and in it's place was a look filled with sternness.

Our own laughter quickly wavered out. It was time to get serious. With her in the lead, we proceeded out of the command center.

We'd been walking for a few minutes now, towards the site of the servant summoning ritual. I'd learned that I was here to prototype new improvements on the FATE summoning system, namely, an upgrade that would enable the system to summon a servant with the highest compatibility with the master.

In layman terms, the upgrade would substitute the catalyst with the master's soul. After analysation of the candidate's soul was complete, a door to the Throne of Heroes would then be opened. And through undisclosed means, a Heroic Spirit that corresponds best would be copied into a servant form.

At least, in theory.

And that's why I was here, as an over-glorified guinea pig.

I just can't wait!

But thinking back, the original FATE system was already fundamentally different to the original of the Fuyuki Wars. It had caused some differences in the servants summoned. Of course it was nothing like the "tainted" servants created by the dark grail, but I couldn't help but wonder.

"May I inquire about the specifics of the FATE system? What exactly are the differences between the servants summoned by that and the ones brought forth by the Holy Grail?" I posted the question to my company, both obviously more well versed in the current state of things than me.

"The FATE system has two main advantages compared to the original." It was the director who answered. "One being it's capacity to summon heroes, and even Divine Spirits of all ethnic spheres. And secondly, is the ability to 'Ascend' a servant."

Ascend? Was it making them stronger or something?

As if having a secret eyeball concealed behind her back, Olgamally enlightened me. "'Ascension' is the process of bringing a servant closer to their legend's point of conception, reforming them into a stronger form by means of regressing back to their beginning."

"And just how large is the margin of improvement?" I asked.

"In the seventh order, the master of Chaldea, Ritsuka Fujimaru, along with his team of six 'Ascended' servants, could hold their ground against a weakened Tiamat, the primordial Babylonian Goddess of creation."

...

...

I take back all the doubts I had. If six 'Ascended' servants could survive against a primordial goddess, even though a weakened one at that, then I'm so in for the job.

They would be able to take down even the strongest of opponents from the other world.

"Tell me, Jonathan, what do you know about the 'Devils'?" Olgamally rang out. I seized for a moment, Zelretch must've told her. Regaining my usual demeanor, I replied with not so much as a second thought.

"They are like weed in the garden, which will grow out of our scope to manage should we not take immediate action." I voiced out my opinion, fury laced within every syllable.

The white haired woman acknowledged with a soundless nod. She stopped sharply, rotating her head around those ember orbs meeting with my mentor's. With a soundless exchange between the two, she turned to me.

"Tell me, what do you know of 'The Merger'?"

"The Merger", they called it. The joining of another world, one still within the Age of the Gods, with ours that occurred in the 1980s. The Counter Force had overtaken the new world almost instantaneously, assimilating it into their own domain. But that hadn't changed things in the slightest. Phantasmal species of all kinds, long thought extinct or gone, suddenly roamed the Earth in startling numbers.

Alaya had quickly lessened the restraints on modern humanity, allowing us to better adjust to the Mana-rich air signature of the Age of Divinities, but it wasn't nearly enough. In the end, help came from an unexpected place. Gaia, not wanting mankind to die off completely, engineered several super plagues that wiped out the more malicious segments of humanity, whilst increasing the density of every human soul left.

But even then, humans survived just barely.

Chaos reigned supreme in the Clocktower, as Magi rushed to identify the cause of the sudden re-enaction of the Age of the Gods. Soon, they knew about everything. It turned out the Age of Man hadn't suddenly ended like previously thought, instead the reappearance of creatures of myth was caused due to the combination of two different worlds.

The rulers of the Clocktower had also found out that while many of the alternate counter parts were weaker than our own versions, new threats to humanity, or more specifically, new threats to their advancement of thaumaturgy, came into existence. Namely the "Devils", "Angels", and "Fallen Angels".

The World actively resisted the existence of these creatures, being threats to the planet and humanity at the same time. Just being outside for too long would result in their deaths. However that didn't affect them in the slightest, their strongholds were isolated from the rest of the world with their own versions of Bounded Fields that deterred the Counter Force from intervening.

The higher-ups quickly classified the information, as hypnosis spells were casted worldwide to prevent the ignorant from discerning the truth. Magus scrambled to conver their tracks, as contingency plans were set in motion.

A little known laboratory isolated within the snowy mountains was quickly brought into the fold as well. It's name, the Chaldea Security Organisation.

Founded as a research facility to safeguard the future of the human race, it drafted talented scientists and Magi of all fields, meshing the art of the past and knowledge of the future into something surpassing both. Chaldea had already invented LAPLACE allowing observation into the past. This had brought the Mage's Association's attention, which resulted in a detrimental increase in funding. Construction of artifices such as CHALDEAS which would've taken much longer to complete, was now reduced to a few years.

It seemed the nobility of the Clocktower were capable of achieving much, when putting aside their differences.

But such is human nature to grow complacent with stagnation, and in the blink of an eye, months and years passed by. The head ponchos started to grow a little too comfortable in their ivory towers, confident in the safeguards that have protected them for so long to continue functioning forever. As a result, resources were shifted elsewhere from crucial projects.

Chaldea was no exception.

It was relegated to a lowly observatory that carried out inhuman experiments under the banner of watching out for mankind.

But alas, even the mightiest of dams would erode away, be it by the constant flow of water, or an unexpected flood. Things went well up till the beginning of the 21st century. The otherworlders were still in the dark about events, and any who came close to figuring out were swiftly silenced. Everything seemed to be fine... till they reappeared.

Gods and phantasmal species... of our own world returned. However, this time they were not strong enough to overpower humanity. But the same couldn't be said for the magical community.

It would've been a new golden age honestly, one where humans weren't treated as playthings and Magecraft had regressed back to the Age of the Gods. Under the protective influence of Alaya, humanity would've rushed forth, receiving the advantages inherent to both the Age of Gods and Men yet possessing the weaknesses of neither.

But that's what happens in a happy story. Unfortunately, happy stories aren't in great abundance. The first things the Gods did was to consume their alternate counterparts, increasing their already unimaginable power even further. This alerted the enemy, and soon expeditionary groups surged forth from those few hot zones, mapping out the new world.

Even at their best, the most seasoned of combat Magi and Enforcers were no match against them.

They quickly gained their bearings in the new environment, and proceeded to do what they did best, draining off humans like overgrown leeches. The "Angels" revealed themselves to the Holy Church, acquiring additional power through faith. The "Fallen Angels" being the least discriminate faction out of the Big Three, just recruited talented humans as occasional mercenaries and researchers.

The "Devils" acted according to their nature, they just took. Be it by deception or brute force, the hellspawn abducted unclaimed humans with magical potential all over the globe, satiating their primitive desires for control and seeking more knowledge about this world at the same time.

I myself would've met a fate certainly worse than death had it not been for the timely intervention of Zelretch.

Tensions rose quickly, and fortunately a diplomatic solution was found. But everyone knew that was just the opening barrage of a grand series of shadow wars that would rage across the planet in the years to come. Investments were quickly funneled into the revitalization of long dead programs and the enhancement of already existing ones, but with so much to deal with and a limited amount of resources, speed was dismal.

In the haze of panic, the organisation started by Marisbury Olgamally was forgotten, deemed unimportant in the current scheme of things. The father of Olgamally was a man of extraordinary vision, capable of comprehending experimental revenues of warfare and means to defend against them, but not everyone understood those of unique insight.

To the lords, the opponent was that which existed in the present. And as such, requested funding by Chaldea was denied for the most part. Seeing no other alternatives, Marisbury participated in the Fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail war, and won.

His wish: For prosperity.

And as such, his theorems, which had long been deemed as abstract and impractical, found acceptance in those that mattered. Also, Marisbury had garnered enough financial support for maintaining optimal functionality for Chaldea, as well as ensuring CHALDEAS ran smoothly.

He was right in the end.

The irony was, for all our preparations against the otherworlders, we had never noticed another looming threat. In that single chime of a clock, the surface of the Earth was reduced to ashes, devastated by our own past. Humans having been pushed to the very creek of defeat.

Chaldea survived only due to the magnetic field of CHALDEAS, and promptly began an uphill battle to reclaim our future.

This epic quest lasted through the whole of 2016 and 2017.

Hundreds of servants were summoned, all in a desperate bid to stop the machinations of Goetia, Beast I. The Beast-class servant had assumed the form of Solomon, the King of Magic, to prey upon mankind. He'd taken a twisted pity on humanity and sought to rectify our suffering, through the complete incineration of humanity and recreating the world into one where the laws of death didn't exist.

In the obvious end, Chaldea won, and was claimed as the saviors of humanity. That was all fine and dandy, except for one small fact.

Devils were found to have aided Goetia in the bringing of Armageddon, apparently worshipping him and his demon gods as almighty lords. Aside from the literal treasure trove of information regarding demonic physiology and their particular form of magic present in corpses, a conference had been quickly assembled.

The official authorities of the Underworld had denied responsibility, and delegated the blame to various extremist groups. They'd even offered assistance in the apprehension of those criminals, when found.

We had no critical evidence against them, but everyone shored up just in case. Afterall, just how much could you trust a devil's words?

And we arrive at today. Where I'm about test a new add-on for the FATE summoning system.

I rubbed my temples, ignorance really was bliss sometimes. And I had to act as an agent of sorts for Chaldea after this whole shtick too.

"Are you ready?" I turned, meeting the glance of the director, I could see her concern as clear as day.

Hah, trying to act all hard and rigid but such so soft on the inside, she's just like Rin.

Though I chose not to comment, the time for fooling around was over.

Nodding, I proceeded towards the center of the room. There was a circle inscribed onto the ground, it's markings black, yearning for a stream of mana. Various complex apparatus lingered the top of the room, with several particularly ominous looking ones pointed towards me.

Despite the repeated assurance of my safety, a figment of doubt couldn't help but spark within me.

Soon, Olgamally and Zelretch had moved up to the control room, overlooking the ground floor below. Nodding to them, the woman in charge had hastily begun issuing commands to the staff.

Rays of white light shot out from the ground, dissecting me. Hmm, Spiritron Scanners, no doubt. Turning skywards, I glanced nervously at crew, their fingers dashing away, inputting commands into the consoles. But even when anxiety infested my blood, my heartbeat and breathing was calm. Instincts long instilled by my martial arts training coming into play.

Before long, a rumble rang through the floor, as sky blue flooded the circles, bringing the angular patterns on the floor to life. Arcs of mana curved throughout the machinery overhead. My eyes darted everywhere, studying everything, curiosity overwhelming uncertainty for a spare moment. I might not get a second glimpse at all these fantastic marvels.

"Spiritron analysis complete. Safeguard verifcation complete." A voice, feminine in nature, but distinctly artificial in origin, rang through the room. This was it, there was no going back now.

Glancing upwards, I saw the determined, but collected, expressions of everyone, lessening the worry in my heart by a minuscule amount. Mana flowed, no flooded to another circle opposite of mine, emitting a short flash that enveloped the whole room. When I opened my eyes once more, the circle was glowing a stable lipstick red, causing me to release a breathe I hadn't realized that I was holding.

"Prana levels at eighty percent and climbing. Corridor formation ready. Destination coordinates locked in. Throne of Heroes." Almost as if mirroring the staff seated within the control room, beads of chilly sweat rolled down my forehead. It was natural to fear the unknown, and even more so when your life was potentially on the line.

"Prana levels at ninety percent. Corridor resolution enhanced. Final safeguard verification complete." All sorts of funny feelings sowed through my chest, in direct conflict with my stable heartbeat. The crew had stopped typing, and all eyes were on me. Olgamally flipped a glass casing, fingers poised to lunge forth and seal my fate.

"Prana storage full. Servant summoning ritual commencement ready." She looked at me, and I could only look back. There was no vote of confidence or some quirky last minute joke that I could come up with, but we both knew that this had to be done. So when my vocal chords failed me, my neck muscles did not. Fingers, shaking, she pressed the button, as I felt prana spike within the circle opposite of mine.

Aquamarine laced out from beneath me, connecting the two magic circles. This was it, the addendum of make or break.

"Ritual commencement confirmed. Spiritron data input successful. Deterrence field enacted." Deterrence field? An ominous feeling perforated my guts. Something wasn't right here, but nevermind that, I had the foreboding feeling that things were about to come crashing down.

Reflexively, I began heating up my Magic Circuits, and subtly got into a position more suitable for my Eastern Magecraft techniques. That must've changed my readings somehow, as Olgamally reached for a mike, comforting me. "Relax, everything is looking fine here. You have nothing to worry about."

Right... It's always like this before things landslide downhill. But I complied nevertheless, reducing the oscillation of my circuits, lest I impede progress.

"Calculation complete, matching Spiritron profile acquired. Servant summoning in T-minus 5..." I gulped, forcefully swallowing the lump of bile in my throat.

I hated this feeling of helplessness, of leaving up my fate in the hands of others, not having a say at all.

"4..."

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

"Corridor initiation sequence begin." The low whine of machinery rose to irritating pitches, as Prana spiked within the circle. I stood there, frozen on the ground, adrenaline bundling up my body, robbing me of control.

I blinked, then twice. Nothing had happened.

The Prana levels still stayed at the same all time high, and the sounds hadn't gone away either. And judging by the dumbfounded looks on the people inside the secure box upwards, something had gone awry.

"Bzzzcht." What? I heard something, like a short electrical static. Honing down on the origin of the noise, I found myself staring at the circle where my servant should've materialized. Then, right in front of my eyes, the unthinkable happened.

At first, Mana sparked through the air, riding on cerulean blue lightning. I had barely the time to speak before the powerful speakers announced.

"Warning. Unidentified external energy source detected. Servant summoning circle compromised." By the time eyes were downstairs, the small nexus of bolts had enlarged to encompass the entire circle. It's greedy tendrils occasionally swiping the walls, leaving deep scorches within one of the hardest materials known to man, enhanced to the point where only Noble Phantasms and the likes would've been able to scratch it.

I didn't dare to so much as get a feel on the density of that. It'd have blessed me with migraines. One particularly venturous arc raced towards me, intent on taking my head. It missed me by a few inches, my passive Chi field acting as a barrier, pushing it away. My eyes narrowed, as I quickly casted a simple barrier spell in front of me. An intricate pattern of interwoven sigils and shapes flashing into existence.

While my field was a powerful defense, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Well, this can't get any worse than it already is, right?" I had no idea how true the opposite of my words would ring.

The sprightly little eyesore condensed, then with a mighty heave, it expanded. Releasing a wave that uprooted tiles and sent them flying in all directions.

The amalgamation of lightning had shrunk back to the center of the circl. It condensed, before lashing out, revealing a spherical void with blue lining in it's place. Things that were flying one moment past were now moving in the opposite direction, towards that beautiful singularity.

"Danger. Radiation reaching hazardous levels. Redundancies failing. All staff, please evacuate."

I could barely keep my footing straight as I struggled against the immense suction. I didn't have the capacity to get a precise lookout from the situation upstairs, but it was disorder, consoles sparking and Olgamally barking out orders. Short-lived klaxons blared, before their glass casings were cracked, and they were sucked into oblivion. Even with multiple spells that enhanced my mass, local gravitation force and so on, I was slowly loosing ground in this tug of life and death.

"Alert, deterrence field failure. Cause... unknown." Really? That's just great! Got any more great news?

Sarcasm aside, I was busy fighting for my life. If Magecraft couldn't stop my fall, maybe the second could. "Second - Refract!" There was no effect whatsoever, whereas space should've started expanding in front of my outstretched palm, all I saw was my black demise starring right back at me. Gritting my teeth, I tried it once more.

"Second - Refract!" Again, failure. Desperation clawed through me, as I tried once more, only to be rebuffed again. It was like some... mental block was in my head. I knew, yet couldn't exactly recall just how to activate the second Magic.

"Alert, trans-dimensional corridor hijacked. Large Spiritron structures incoming."

Large Spiritron structures? Could it be? Was this... thing actually attracting Heroic Spirits?!

"Alert, broadcast siphon hijacked. Large Spiritron structures incoming."

Shit! It was using me as bait! But what made me so appetizing to Heroic Spirits anyway?!

The small sphere once the roughly the size of a fist was now as big as a car. I could see, from it's gleaming surface, warped images of masses of colors with no particular shape, racing towards me from the other end. Among them, was a golden one with occasional sprites of bloody red. For some reason, deep down, something clicked as I gazed upon that congregation of pure energy.

"Guh!" I slipped, focus lost, a rare occurrence.

Re-anchoring myself, ingrained mental fortitude forced down the torrent of fear as I saw my barrier start to vaporize, motes of glowing substance flowing towards the end.

This was bad, I was a goner if a miracle didn't happen soon.

But... I can't just face defeat face-down like this! I haven't come this far just to fail! My nerves send rippling waves of citric as I clench my jaws hard, eyes stinging at my utter helplessness.

Was... was Zelretch right? Had I overestimated myself? Had I truly forgotten that I was only one man, and could only do so much?

... No... I refuse defeat! There had to be a way... there had to...

...

...

Reality splashes onto me, sub-zero frostbite gnawing at my face.

There was no solution. My luck had ran out at last.

No matter how skilled or brave I was, I'd hit the wall.

This was it... the end of the line I guess.

But...

Suddenly, without warning, the black orb pulsed, and sent a shockwave rippling through the room. My arms came up reflexively, and futilely, as I was thrown to the wall, denting it as cracks cobwebbed it's way across the polished grey surface.

My eyebrows furrowed for a split second, but not from the pain, my body had long been as hard as diamond, but from the ethereal glowing trail of particles that stretched from me till the harbinger of death.

A sudden wave of fatigue, far surpassing the norm, hit me like a truck.

Damn, my Od was being drained at an alarming rate.

My external spells flickered out of life, unable to keep up with the immaterial locust in the room, while my inner mysteries were faring slightly better.

I formed a vicious snarl, pointless anger.

My mind was blank. Robbed of my skills, assets and incapacitated, I was weaker than a normal human, amounting to nothing.

My eyelids, weightless flesh became blocks of lead, as I struggled to maintain consciousness.

"Hah." I laughed, basking in the satire humor of the world.

In the end, despite all my efforts, I was still just another ant.

My vision was blurry now, and incoherent thoughts were failing to form.

How I wish... I...

I...

...

...

Servant summoning complete. Turbulence cause... unknown.

Diagnostic system running...

Complete. Major systems failure, begin repair sequence. Servant catalog sequence initiated...

...

...

Error. Does not compute. Servant catalog failed.

Cause: Irregularity present. Begin redundancy scans.

Warning. Repair sequence defunct. Power reserves low. Non-critical systems shutdown initiated. System unable to complete orientation.

...

...

Redundancy scans complete.

Anomaly. Non-human Servant. Class incompatible. Biological vessel. Abnormal levels of divinity detected.

Cause: ...unknown.

Alert: Spiritron structure unchanged from pre-dimensional transition.

Calculating alternate possibilities...

...

...

New contender assumed: Heroic Spirit

Warning. Power reserves critical. System shutdown imminent.

Heroic Spirit catalog sequence initiated...

Female. Non-human anti-Heroic Spirit. Sky Attribute.

Closest estimated vessel class: Caster

East Asian Origins

Identification: ...

Error. Unexpected obtrusion detected. Compensating...

Warning. Power reserves expended. System shutdown in progress.

Compensation failed.

Identification failed.

Assuming FATE_SUM_HS#1 as temporary marker.

...

Logged.

...

System Shutdown.

AN: And that's it. This is the first chapter of the rewrite of Agent of the Counter Force, Of Man and Demons. I personally felt that the original story was written on an impulse, and was too undeveloped. So I rewrote it, with a clearer plot in my head.

This fic will be medium paced, with updates around 10K words out about every month. I'll try, but there aren't any promises. It'll be stepping on a middle ground between light and serious fics, with elements of both. The story won't entirely focus on the interactions of Issei and the MC either. Both will go their separate ways, but there will be times where both characters will have moments together.

The first chapter is mainly world-building, and the subsequent ones will have more action, but they won't always be straight out fights. Infiltration, subterfuge and the likes are going to be commonplace too.

So... I'm done for now. What do you think? Please leave a comment and thanks for reading!