PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE! IMPORTANT:

Author's Note:

HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN A WHILE!

*Dodges missiles and thrown chairs*

Well, fuck, me. We're actually back huh? (Hopefully for real this time). Although this won't make sense to someone binge-reading this story for the first time, for the rest of you reading chapter-by-chapter and waiting for updates, you'll understand what I mean by it's been a while.

I'll be honest and admit that I had plans to discontinue and rewrite this story. It occurred to me, after a lot of writing and rewriting that the Dragonborn is just so ridiculously overpowered in this setting that it isn't even funny. Giving him Ddraig's power may have been unnecessary, because there are A LOT of ways he could have quite literally curbstombed the DxD universe even without the Boosted Gear.

A Dragonborn with the power of the Boosted Gear? Forget it. It's... over. Literally. Writing conflict against such odds would make soooo little sense that I would have to (and did find myself) constantly giving ridiculous nerfs to Seth in order to give the enemies a fighting chance.

When you have the Slow Time Shout which can be made into a 'ZA WARULDO' shout, it becomes insanely difficult to write any kind of realistic battle where you would actually be in any sort of danger, unless you're a massive idiot or a Goku-type fool who wants to always fight your enemies at full power. It's also why Jotaro had an out-of-my-ass power-up for Star Platinum to be able to stop time, otherwise he would have been curbstomped by Dio.

Adding limits to the Slow Time shout would be a nerf. Making him unable to use it would be a nerf. And nerfs aren't fun.

So that left me with two options:

OPTION A: Decide to go back, and soft reset the story by making Seth not able to get the Boosted Gear (which means adding Issei back into the story) in order to be able to ensure that fights and events going onward have actual stakes (and make me able to follow canon) -

OR

OPTION B: Say fuck it, and roll along with what we've already got, which means giving all the cast of DxD ridiculous power boosts and abilities that they should not have for the purpose of making the curb-stomps that much more entertaining when they're tougher, and pad words with waifu moments, lemons, lime, character development (maybe?) and Seth being his own worst enemy by making life difficult for himself due to his underestimation of just how insanely powerful he is.

OPTION A would likely make for a better, more balanced and traditional story with character arcs, growth, etc, whereas OPTION B would likely turn this into a semi-crack-like porn-with-plot power trip fantasy... which may occasionally have character arcs, growth, etc.

OPTION A would also take a significantly longer time for the story to continue (someone once said 90% of rewrites are never continued) whereas OPTION B would have us be able to pick the story up right where we left off and guarantee updates and more chapters because I'll be prioritizing having fun while writing over having to be meticulous in creating a traditional story.

I'm open to either option because I have ideas for both, but ultimately, it's the readers who enjoy reading this work who may or may not quite be fond of one idea or another.

Regardless, if you guys do go for Option A, rest assured that I won't be deleting anything that's already been written. Instead, I'll merely advance forward and work out the change in timeline into the plot ala ReZero-style reset.

Please, please tell me what you think, because this is honestly the wall I hit that's been keeping me from writing this story for a long, long while, and I'm about ready to tear it down by any means necessary.

That said, here's a chapter, continuing from where we left off last time.

[Previously, on Force Without Balance]

In case you can't remember and/or aren't in the mood to go back and reread what the story is about, here's a HonestTrailer style recap:

Seth is a Vampire Dragon Emperor who killed Issei after making him fuck his mom and got a thumbs up from Ddraig for it. Viser complains about her lack of candidacy for Waifu Status, and Seth nukes a portion of the underworld and kills a Satan to prove that you can be Best-Girl without being Waifu.

Asia becomes Waifu and is playing around with magic trinkets to boost her confidence. Vali goes Tsudere and experiences Seth's ZA WARULDO.

Rias grows a pair and tells Riser to fuck off. Pretty-boy Kiba is dead and Koneko considers Seth's offer for Waifu position and going stray from Destruction-Waifu, in order to find her sister, FemItachi-Waifu.

Chess-Waifu Sona is suffering from the aftermath of an unscheduled deepthroat by Frenzy Father Freed. Dohnaseek is madly in love with Raynare, and Raynare is madly in love with Azazel, and Azazel is a chad who doesn't give a fuck. Mittelt likes to bait human pedos and kill them. And Raynare's group are all in hiding because Seth used Selzen to blow up Kuoh Academy while he was experiencing a 40 Day and 40 Night+ sabbatical in ZA WARULDO WORLD.

Everyone and their dog, their dog's dog, and their dog's grandmother's dog is getting ready for the restart of the Holy War, while the Old Satan Faction is laughing maniacally in the background plotting something which will no doubt end badly for them because they're C-Tier villains who have less screen-time than pantyshots.

Ophis made a cameo once and is calmly waiting in the background until I figure out how to write an epic battle for the Infinity-Waifu, whereas Pervy-Waifu Aika is convinced that Innocent-Waifu Asia has somehow become embroidered in a grand criminal scheme by bad, bad people, because it's harder to believe the alternative that Asia is living a life similiar, yet vastly superior in quality to Bella from Twilight.

And now, back to the show.

Dead Man's Drink

"Because if you really think about it, about all of it, then you start to think-think," the Vampire said. "You start to question. To ask questions. To fill in the gaps. The holes. The tiny crevices. And you see, they don't want you to do that."

The bar was an amalgamation of ideas. A mishmash of different concepts, haphazardly slapped together into some thematic, unholy combination of strip club and brothel. He couldn't particularly say he was displeased by the teenage girls in skimpy school-uniforms going about serving the clearly enthralled human patrons, but at the same time he couldn't admit to being pleased by the amount of drool he'd need to wash off his boots from the human males barely restraining their sexual appetites.

"So," the Vampire prattled on. "I thought, and I started to think. And so I began to understand. Devils, Angels, Dragons, and Gods – a supernatural battle for the eons. While humanity bares their barren aggression like a cat with its claws trimmed down to flesh – the facets of the supernatural engage in a contest deciding the ultimacy of their species and place in the universe – and I ask, what for?"

Manning the barstool, a dark-haired pale-skinned woman lapped up everything the Vampire said like Lazarus begging for scraps at the rich man's table. Vali found his lips pressed into a state of annoyance. He couldn't recall what had sent off the Vampire into a tirade on the metaphysical. He'd started off with some ramblings about Determinism and Free-Will, arguing for and against his own perceived question as to whether the universe was deterministic in nature. Somehow, the concept of compatibilism got thrown in, and along the way, some questions, certainly profound, but ultimately meaningless, had been tossed at him that he'd responded with a grunt, shrug, or idle nod.

"Tell me," the Vampire finally turned to him. "What do you think?"

The owner of the establishment, he noted, again, for the umpteenth time, was tall. Imposing. In physical height alone he certainly dwarfed most individuals of Japanese birth. There was no denying he was a foreigner, despite the jet-black mess of hair that hung from his head. His red vampiric eyes sparkled like the blood moon of fables, and his fangs would ever so softly peek underneath his lips when he spoke.

"Is it too early to resign?"

The Vampire's lips twitched. "Yes."

The Red Dragon Emperor was a Higher Vampire. Admittedly, Vali would say that he was, if nothing else, a somewhat fair individual. By all means, the White Dragon Emperor had no cause to live. No reason to draw breath. His corpse should be in the empty wilderness of hell, ashes upon dry, demonic wind that would make its way into the eyes of insignificant creatures and be naught but a moment's irritation.

"You didn't give me your answer."

"I didn't know there was a question."

The Vampire made a sound that was reminiscent of an irritated mutter. "Determinism." He extended his right hand, a small, whispering red-flame appearing within it. "Free-Will." His left hand extended, a brighter, more malicious, blue-flame.

"Why does it matter?"

"Amuse me," the Vampire drawled. "What does a descendant of Lucifer himself, think about the nature of the universe?"

Vali shot his gaze to the pale-skinned girl manning the bar. Almost zombie-like in nature, she appeared. Her shoulders rose and fell as if to say 'What are you looking at me for?'

"Of all the pointless…" he extended his hand, grasping for the red-flame.

The Vampire's eyes flittered as his face contorted in surprise, and a small hint of satisfaction. "So," he said. "You believe everything in the world is already determined from the get-go."

"Isn't it?" He pointed to himself. "We were fated to battle, and we did. The White and Red Dragon Emperors – clashing, again, and again, and again –"

"Except this time," the Vampire said. "You lost, but didn't die."

His lips thinned. "That doesn't change anything. We still fought. One of us still lost."

"Yet, here you are, still breathing," the Vampire closed his right hand over the blue glow of Free-Will. "By my, choice."

A spark of annoyance ran through him. "What's your point?"

The Vampire's lips curled into a thin smirk. "Nothing." He crossed his arms, levitating away. "Nothing at all."

Vali watched him saunter off, giving off small, tiny laughs as he did so. He took a seat at the bar, turning to the pale woman. "Is he always like that?"

"More or less." She poured liquor from a bottle into an old-fashioned wooden mug, sliding it across. "Though he's been different, lately."

He looked down at the liquor suspiciously. His eyes turned to the pale-skinned woman. Her own eyes rolled. "Please. If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn't be stupid enough to make it so obvious."

Tentatively, he rose the mug. His lips kissed the wooden cup, his tongue tasted the burning liquid and no sooner did he imbibe the substance, did he feel a fire swirling in the pit of his stomach, and a harsh kick connect with his liver.

He nearly choked on the substance, coughing and hacking to the pale-woman's amusement. "Imagine that. The All-Powerful White Dragon Emperor, bested, by a cup of liquor."

Heat rushed to his face, be it from the alcohol or from the woman's words, he could not tell. "What – what is this?"

"Mead."

"Mead?"

The woman hummed. "Mead." She rose the bottle. "Nord Mead." She placed it back down. "A cup makes humans flat out drunk instantly but makes people like us tipsy."

Ignoring the still smoldering fire in his belly, he glanced over the woman a second time. "People like us?"

"You think I'm this pale because I'm shy of the sun?"

He examined her warily. Vampires, as he knew, did not tend to travel alone. Yet, none of his senses or instincts told him that the woman in front of him was a significant threat.

"I'm not a vampire, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then… what are you?"

She grunted at the question. "An employee. A senior employee."

Vali could feel the amusement bridle up within him. "You expect me to take orders from you?"

"Listen, White Dragon asshole," the woman cleared her throat, clearing the table. "I don't really know if you've noticed, but you lost to Seth-sama. You're alive, right now, only because he let you be alive. But do you know what I have that you don't?"

She pointed, brazenly, to her chest. "Tits."

"What does that have to –"

"Unless," she interrupted. "You magically grow a pair of fucking tits, or make Seth-sama suddenly decide he wants to know what it's like to fuck a guy in the ass, it means there's a pecking order. That order, currently, goes Seth-sama, ditzy nun, me and then you."

He scoffed. Scoffed. For a few seconds, the burning desire to smack the pale woman burned within him just as much as the alcohol in his stomach. He didn't, however. The second his hand moved; his brain replayed the events of his battle. Of the one-sided massacre that could barely have been called a battle. He was alive, yes, alive, with his pride wounded, but alive nonetheless.

That… monster that walked around with such a casual air could completely and utterly destroy his existence. The thought flashed through his brain as his hand moved, stilling it. The woman's gaze turned to his hand, his, naturally followed. The limb shook in place, shuddering like a starved orphan on a metal bench in the dead of winter.

Vali… he heard his partner's voice. His partner's ever-so-silent voice. A voice that receded into the depths of his mind ever since his loss. The resigned, defeated, despondent sound of the voice that had always supported him, encouraged him, and guaranteed him of his strength and superiority –

A mug landed in his hand. He blinked, staring with blurry vision at the offending object. Staring at the liquid within. The woman was looking at him no further, busy, seemingly, with other tasks.

"It hurts."

His fists clenched the cup. "What?"

"Weakness." The woman said. "Weakness, hurts."

"I'm not –" not weak.

He wanted to utter those words. His lips molded, but shook and faltered. He was Vali Lucifer – the White Dragon Emperor. He'd trained, fought and lived for nothing more than battle after battle. Loss was nothing new to him. Failure was a part of the process. He had surpassed and surmounted opponents strong and powerful.

He was not weak.

He was not supposed to be weak.

So… why?

Why?

His lips, parched, desperate for an answer, took a large, heavy gulp from his mug. The woman, silently, refilled the mug after he'd brought it down from his lips. The burning in his stomach, finally began to match the burning in his heart.

"But, you're lucky," the woman said. "At least, you have some measure of strength. That feeling, the one eating at you now, imagine that feeling, intensified a thousand times. Imagine it present with you every minute and every second. Present with you since you drew your first breath, and knowing that it would be with you at your last. Knowing, that there is absolutely nothing you can do to change it."

He couldn't imagine it. Couldn't picture it. No matter how he envisioned it, the concept of knowing that you would be eternally weaker than another was… insane.

"How do you… live with that?"

The woman's eyes shone purple. She reached down behind the bar, emerging from within it, a crisp-looking, neatly folded uniform.

"By learning to serve."

XXXXX

Unknown Location

Above all else, choose victory.

Potissimum eligunt uictoria. There was no honor in defeat. No triumph in destruction. Honor died a dog's death, drops of blood smeared unto grass from the enemy's blade. The strips of flesh, tearing forth from jugular as stillborn scars. The loser's lips entangled with death as the tongue of their enemies discovered the throats of their daughters and sisters, their mothers and aunts. The merciful ones will put sons in chains, and the unmerciful will send them, stumbling and inexperienced, into death's open legs. They would meet her with longing. Eager, parched, desperately pleading for her embrace, for they had drank from life's avaricious chalice, and their thirst had not been quenched.

Choose victory.

How much she regretted teaching that motto.

"Reign it in Griselda."

Of the beings that existed in the universe, few were capable of spewing from their mouths those words to Griselda Quarta and not discovering their heads eternally disconnected from their shoulders. Unfortunate as it was, the young man who appeared beside her was amongst that number.

His priest clothes were elegantly ironed, no doubt not of his own doing. Blonde hair and green eyes highlighted a young, youthful face, to which many an unfortunate young nun had surrendered to temptation.

"My dear Dulio," her words dripped like liquid nitrogen. "Whatever do you mean?"

An ever-present weariness was imbedded in the young man's sigh. "You know that I mean," he gestured. "Your bloodlust." Lazy green eyes flickered delicately. "I don't think they can't take much more of it."

"They," the word spat from her lips. She breathed in, calming herself. "They," she tried again, maintaining an air of softness. "They will be rather fortunate. Fortunate indeed, if the least of their worries is surviving a little tough love from their loving mother."

Her eyes flickered to the duo. "Is that not so, girls?"

"Yes, Mother Griselda."

They were on their knees, of course. Heavy iron crosses lay atop their bare laps. Their hands extended outward and away from them, each one wielding another iron cross, and balanced precociously atop each cross, were bowls containing the sacred communion wine.

Their arms did not shake. Unstable arms meant unstable faith, and she did not suffer those whose faith was not as solid as a rock. The bowls balanced atop the cross were never to wobble, never to allow a single drop hit the ground.

"I wonder," the ever-present source of her daily annoyance spoke, "Is there even a point in punishing them?"

"My dear Dulio," try as she might, she could not keep the ice out of her words. "You understand what it is that they have done?"

The man revered as the World's Strongest Exorcist yawned further. "They did what exorcists are supposed to do: slay devils."

"They killed members of the peerage of a Satan's sibling."

"Truly?" Dulio's eyes gained more focus in them than she'd ever seen. He turned to the kneeling duo.

"Is that true, Xenovia, Irina? You killed a Devil in service of a Satan's family?"

"That is true, Saint Gesualdo."

Dulio's hands came together in a large, single clap. "Brilliant." He crossed his arms. "Griselda… we should be celebrating them."

Try as she might to keep the exasperation and frustration out of her tone, she could not. "Dulio, you understand what the repercussions of their actions entails, do you not? Surely, surely you do."

"War."

Her lips folded, pressed hard against each other. "That is the outcome we're trying to avoid."

"A meeting then?" Dulio's expression soured. "To sit across traitors of heaven and spawn of hell… Since when do angels break bread with enemies of God's Kingdom?"

"Since the need to avoid unnecessary bloodshed," Griselda stressed. "I am not in favor, nor am I in support of it any more than you are, Dulio, but we cannot fight a war on two fronts. If war erupts –"

"Griselda."

Sudden, came the frost. Prepared she was not, mentally nor physically, for the abrupt condemnation of all heat to the farthest reaches of oblivion. Indeed, she overlooked the man known as the Strongest Exorcist due to his character. Often, she disremembered why the man was regarded as the Trump Card of Heaven, due to his personality.

She was not his equal.

Were there a physical measure of estimating the gap between them, she would be descending a bottomless gorge to the center of the earth, and he would be on Mars, feet caked with red, alien sand.

"When you go out to battle against your enemies and see horses and chariots and people more numerous than you, do not be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, is with you."

When most quoted the scripture, they did so as a mnemonic. A statement, memorized, repeated, entrenched in memory as citation, a line to recall when pertinent.

When Dulio Gesualdo quoted the scripture, he did not quote. Each and every word was announced with the same conviction as one declaring the blueness of the sky and greenness of the grass. Unshakeable belief emanated every word, thus so that the scriptures he uttered pierced into the mind of listeners as though they were hearing it anew.

His green eyes flashed with life, and they pierced her gaze like shouts thrust against the walls of Jericho.

"Do you believe, Griselda?"

Many others who dared question her faith would have died before the utterance concluded. "How dare –"

"Do. You. Believe?"

Frost ascended her toes and harassingly clawed up her legs like the sinners and forsaken, grasping unto the righteous in a final plea for redemption.

"Of course."

"Then tell me," Dulio's green eyes spoke of a slow, tempering flame. Into it, she gazed and saw, Daniel, his hands rubbing the belly of a slumbering lion. She saw Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, untouched by the embers of the wicked. David picking his five smooth stones against a laughing giant.

"Tell me, Griselda… why you believe we who have the Lord's favor, cannot triumph against his enemies?"

Because the Lord is Dead. She dared not speak those words. Dared not make that utterance.

A long time ago, they had made that mistake. The news was rendered to all the higher ups in the church. She remembered the despair, disbelief, and blatant refusal to accept such a cruel truth. Many fell to the wayside. Nuns tore off their garments and threw their naked bodies atop priests and strangers. Fathers renounced their faith and entered bars and brothels, choking whores with rosaries as their cocks released years of frustration into hired wombs.

They rescinded the declaration immediately. Explained it as a 'test of faith' to find those truly dedicated to the lord, and excommunicated all those who'd shattered mentally. She still remembered several of them, crawling back, begging for acceptance and forgiveness, justifying, rationalizing, explaining their actions as a result of the grief that overpowered them from hearing such disheartening news.

She remembered Dulio Gesualdo being unlike those individuals. She remembered the rampage. The resulting clean-up which required numerous supernatural communities coming together to wipe the memories of humans en-masse and repair the damage. A freak storm could be explained. A devastating hurricane and super-massive tornadoes could be explicated. Magnitude 10 earthquakes and thirty-foot tidal waves could be attributed to a temper tantrum from mother nature.

All of this happening across the world in the span of a single day?

No amount of human logic or rationalization could explain it.

She remembered how it long had taken Michael, Gabriel and Uriel to find and subdue the distraught wielder of the Longinus. The amount of effort it was needed, to defeat him, placate him, and wipe the announcement from his memories completely.

As far as the Zenith Tempest holder was told, the Lord was on 'extended mission' to find and terminate the final enemy of mankind –

Death.

Thus, the Kingdom of Heaven was under delegation of Michael, until the Lord returned from vanquishing Death, and the final rapture began. This was the carefully woven tale that was originally designed for the Strongest Exorcist, but ultimately became the de-facto explanation for God's absence used by the Archangels.

Griselda knew very few humans were capable of handling the reality of God's death. There were fewer than ten, perhaps fewer than five, humans in the world who knew the truth.

Dulio Gesualdo was not amongst them. Hence, the Strongest Exorcist believed, rightfully, as he should, that the ceasefire between the Three Factions was a waste. He believed, rightfully, that they were to launch a crusade against the Devils and Fallen, and wipe out the enemies of the righteous from the plane of existence.

So far, the only tether that held back the wielder of the Zenith Tempest was the lie that they were waiting for the Lord's return, and that they would not take action to vanquish his enemies unless said enemies chose to make the first move.

Things had changed.

Someone had played them all for fools. The theft of the Excaliburs had all been a seemingly small plan in someone's larger gambit. Her unfortunate student and apprentice found themselves conveniently at the wrong place at the wrong time, and thus, thus, the entire world was on the precipice of warfare once more.

Things would have been salvageable had they not killed and been spotted killing a devil at the scene. At which case, they could have claimed plausible deniability about the event. A memory-goddess or sufficiently talented magician could be brought unto the scene, pluck the memories from their eyes and establish their innocence in the bombing of the school the Satan siblings attended.

That was no longer an option. Griselda knew. There were only two options left once the meeting ensued, which was to hand the duo over to be killed or enslaved by the Devils as scapegoats in order to maintain the peace, or refuse and prepare for war.

It seemed like such an easy trade, the lives of two young women freely given to prevent war. Griselda didn't want that. Dulio, who took a liking to her young students, also would never allow it. Tobio would object further.

And if the Angels of Heaven were willing sacrifice two innocent and promising lives to the hands of evil merely to retain a fractured armistice, there would be a severe split between the Church and Heaven.

It would not be an exaggeration to term it a Civil War.

"You're right."

War was coming. This was not a question of if any longer. Nor was it even a question of when. The most pertinent question, was how?

The first shot that ignited the full blown, and perhaps final battle between the forces of light and darkness –

Where would it come from?

"My dear Dulio," she said the words. "I thank you, for re-emboldening my convictions. You are right. We should not be punishing those who do good."

With a snap and a single crack of a whip, she took the iron crosses off the girls. The bowls of communion fell into their hands quickly, never letting a single drop fall. Neither had it in them to turn their gaze upwards to look at her, and she could not blame them. Enforcing punishment on them was a necessity not because their actions were wrong, but because it was needed in order to alleviate the blame that would befall them otherwise.

"…Above all else, choose victory."

Those were her own words. A shame, how low she had fallen, to find herself punishing those who'd taken them to heart.

"Get dressed and get ready." She said at last. "Archangel Michael and Archangel Gabriel will be descending soon and then…"

She needn't explain further.

"Where is this meeting supposed to be taking place?"

"Neutral territory," she said. "At the town where the Satan's siblings resided."

Dulio hummed displeasingly. "Enemy territory, you mean."

"The siblings no longer reside there and – where are you going?"

The Zenith Tempest wielder made his way off with his hands in his pocket.

"…to see it."

"What for?"

"It's the starting point." he explained. "Where it all begins…" With a wisp, his form vanished. "…and where it'll all end."

XXXX

Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine-nine percent chance source of anomalous energy readings originate from within. He didn't need his power to tell him that. Ajuka ignored the human pedestrians giving him odd looks and wide berths. His lips thinned, his lungs filled with their oxygen, deflating as his right hand came upwards to rest idly on his nose. He's not even trying.

Perhaps, perhaps the being did believe he was trying. Insomuch as masking his overwhelming power signature was as futile as attempting to cloak a beached whale with a lady's handkerchief. Perhaps, also, it was that the being felt there was no need to hide his unique magical signature. A blend so atrociously inexplicable that to compare it to a mug of coffee made by a human barista, would be regale the coffee-maker as a pioneer on the level of the Picassos and Leonardos, the Donatellos and Michelangelos.

Eighty-nine-point-three-one-one-seven percent chance that energy signature is a match. There was no mistaking it. The unknown assailants, dubbed the 'Scorned' by the more PR-enthused parts of Devil Society, did in fact have a similar magical fingerprint to the being within the innocuous looking building.

Ajuka's eyes lazily swung to the signboard, written, both in English and the Japanese Hiragana: The Dead Man's Drink. The Satan shook his head twice, a scoff furthering its way out of his lips. A drink for dead men, or a place where dead men come for their final respite?

It mattered little.

He'd found the culprit responsible for the attack on his people. The person responsible for the death of one of the Satans, and likely, the entire instigator of the conflict between the three factions. Seventy-seven-point-nine-two percent, his power told him.

Now, all that was needed was to approach further, and eliminate the threat once and for all. With two steps, he called upon his power to determine how efficiently he would decimate his opponent.

Zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-one percent chance of success.

Ajuka Beelzebub's hand froze just before he touched the door. His lips pursed. What are the odds of defeating the enemy single-handedly?

The Kankara Formula, the ultimate calculation demonic power embodying the concept of creation, resounded an answer for him: Zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero –

The 'zeroes' continued to ring off within his head, endlessly, infinitely. Ajuka blinked. He did not want to believe it. Yet, he knew it was true. Strange, the Satan mused. Cognitive dissonance…? His brain held two entirely contradictory notions. The first was simple: His Kankara Formula was absolute, and could not be wrong. The second was simple: He was Ajuka Beelzebub, a Satan, and one of the strongest devils in existence, hence, it was impossible for there to be a foe he stood absolutely no statistical chance of winning against.

The two contradictory ideas could not reside in his brain simultaneously. One had to surrender. Either his belief in the infallibility of his Kankara Formula, or his belief in his superiority as a powerful being.

The decision was made swiftly, because Ajuka had little need for pride. His strength had always come as a side-effect of his studies and interest, and unlike the vast majority of devils, he was not above believing in his own imperfection.

What are the odds of defeating the enemy with significant and powerful aid? Ajuka tried again. This time, he heard something far more favorable.

Ninety-eight-point-nine-seven-one percent.

There. Ajuka stepped away from the door. Apparently, to approach the being within as it were was to immediately and definitely incite his own demise. Asmodeus stood no chance, that much was clear now. They were facing a foe which was more than powerful enough to decimate a Satan singlehandedly. Prudence was necessary.

Odds of defeating the enemy with Sirzechs as my aid? Ajuka ran the numbers.

Five-point-zero-nine-seven-five percent chance of success.

…That can't be right. Again, Ajuka was stumped. Earlier, he confirmed that it was possible to defeat the enemy with powerful backup, and who could have his back that was more powerful than Sirzechs Lucifer himself?

Odds of defeating the enemy with Sirzechs and Serafall? Ajuka inquired.

Two-point-three-three-three-one percent chance of success.

The numbers went down. Somehow, the inclusion of Serafall would only worsen their already abysmal odds of victory. A bark of laughter almost escaped Ajuka's lips. A challenge, he thought. My, what a challenge.

He began to run the numbers. Odds of defeating the enemy with Sirzechs and Grayfia?

One-point-two-four-one-one percent chance of success.

It went down again. Less than even when he attempted it with merely himself and Serafall.

Odds of defeating the enemy with my peerage, Sirzechs and his Peerage, and Grayfia and her peerage?

The answer came: zero-point-nine-nine-four-eight percent chance of success.

Ajuka steepled his fingers in front of his hands. Without another word, he turned, vanishing and reappearing elsewhere down the street, where his brain began to calculate what it meant. The more the firepower, the lower the odds of success. There were numerous possibilities, but only one sprung to mind.

Ajuka jerked straight. Odds of the enemy toying with their opponents?

The answer was swift: ninety-nine-point-seven-five-percent.

A laugh escaped Ajuka's lips. So, that's it, is it? The odds of success went lower with more firepower, because the more people that attacked meant that their enemy would be forced to fight more seriously. It was a common trait of immensely powerful beings, utterly and completely assured of their superiority. They would only ever fight at the level of their opponent, ever so slightly matching their power to that of their foe in pursuit of a thrilling battle. Zeus, Thor, Odin, amongst others were fond of doing this.

Yet, they never did this when they felt there was a genuine chance of losing – when they felt there was a genuine threat. However, going by what he could extrapolate from his data, Ajuka wasn't pleased.

The only reason that Sirzechs and I possess a five-percent chance of defeating the enemy is because… they'll be toying with us?

The thought didn't sit at all well with the Satan. There was a being casually residing in the human realm with enough power to fight against the two strongest devils in history, and to do so for sport.

…Bothersome.

Ajuka did not like the Ineffable. Ineffable Beings were… annoying, to say the least. The Ouroboros and the Great Red remained in the Dimensional Gap and had little care for mortal affairs, so there was ne'er a need to be concerned. Trihexa was thankfully still sealed away, and thus, not a headache. Death was… Death, and they did as Death did, idly reaping the souls of mortal and immortal alike, and amusingly making the 'Death Gods' bow and dance to their every whim and fancy. Yet, even Death did not generally attempt to stir the hornet's nest. And Yahweh was dead, thankfully.

All the beings with truly vast and ineffable power were typically too lazy, uninterested, busy, or bottlenecked from making use of it for selfish ends. Ajuka knew, were the Great Red to one day descend from the Gap on a bored whim to annihilate reality – reality would be annihilated. There would be naught to do but muse as to whether or not his friendship with Sirzechs had truly been the best part of his existence, as he awaited the inevitable. Perhaps he would use his final minutes to engage in a few choice pleasures of the flesh? No, no, that would be a waste. He would rather spend it on his research.

Research… I'm missing my research. Ajuka almost groaned in school-girl like frustration. A declaration of war between the factions would interrupt his research so terribly so, although it would, simultaneously, provide new avenues for it. War was an inevitability, Ajuka knew, yet, he'd clung to the idle hope of delaying it for several more centuries at the very least.

Then there was those 'Scorned' creatures that had attacked the underworld. Ajuka was very interested in discovering their origins, picking and prodding away at what secrets they could potentially reveal. There was a caveat of problems with that, as well.

Ajuka pressed his lips thinly. Odds of defeating the enemy with the combined might of the Three Factions?

Five-point-three-two-two-four-percent.

The Satan almost sighed. The combined entire three factions has roughly the same odds of success as Sirzechs and I fighting alone?

Earlier, his Kankara Formula had ascertained to him that it was possible to defeat their foe with powerful and significant aid, so who in the world was –

It can't… Ajuka pressed his lips tightly. Odds of defeating the enemy with the aid of… the Great Red?

The answer was apt: Ninety-eight-point-nine-seven-one percent.

Ajuka was not amused. He was not amused in the slightest. His power was telling him, that the only way he would prevail against his foe was if he possessed the Dragon of Dragons at his back. If you needed the Embodiment of the Apocalypse in your corner to win against your foe, it was a sign that you were against a foe which you should not be fighting.

Odds of somehow, managing to pit the Great Red against this enemy?

The answer was swift: ninety-one-point-one-one-one percent.

Ajuka was pleasantly surprised. He knew immediately there was a caveat. Odds of pitting the Great Red against this enemy and surviving?

Zero-point-zero-zero-zero –

There it was. He probed further. Odds of pitting the Great Red against this enemy and the world remaining intact?

One-point-zero-

Of course. Ajuka sighed. He could defeat this enemy, certainly. Doing so, however, came with a ninety-nine percent chance to end the world. It wasn't even worth being considered a pyrrhic victory. The Great Red was the supernatural equivalent of what humans considered "the doomsday option" or "Mutually Assured Destruction."

Ajuka attempted another approach. Odds of defeating the enemy with the aid of the Ouroboros?

Negative nine-hundred and ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine-nine percent.

The Satan's brows rose.

Calculating… Parameters inconclusive. Attempting this approach will yield a significantly negative result.

A significantly –

Ajuka took a sharp breath. Odds that the Ouroboros Dragon will join forces with our foe should they be pitted against each other?

The answer was sharp: One-hundred-percent.

"…I see." Ajuka said. "A hundred percent certainty."

Statistically, it should have been impossible. Nothing was ever one-hundred-percent certain. Unfortunately, Ajuka was dealing with beings that cared little for mathematical improbabilities.

"…Odds that the Ouroboros Dragon will join forces with our foe, eventually, sometime in the near future?"

Ninety-five-point-nine-nine-nine-five percent.

"…bothersome."

Ajuka crossed his arms underneath his chest, closing his eyes, and exhaling a soft, irritated breath. An opponent that cannot be defeated without considerable loss, and, in time, will join forces with the Embodiment of Infinity…

Making an enemy out of them meant guaranteed destruction. Devil Society had already lost a Satan and an entire portion of the underworld. The Fallen and the Church were more than eager to use this opportunity to launch an offensive, and honestly, they did not need any more enemies.

Ajuka Beelzebub threw up his hands and made his way back to the lair of death, new calculations already running.

He'd always enjoyed making bridges than he did enjoy burning them.

~~~~~ Force Without Balance ~~~~~

Dead Man's Drink

Verily, Lucifer's scion witnessed greatness. Beneath the fickle-minded building which failed to decide upon its identity as gentleman's club or brothel, another madhouse sat.

There were, of course, many a time Vali had witnessed the peerless craftmanship of humans. Certainly, their architectural sense was capable of evoking sensations of awe and wonder, so much so that the unfortunate souls of great engineers condemned to hell were quickly given blueprints, a forceful pat on the back, and a finger in the direction of the nearest construction site.

"Be quiet and don't touch anything," the bartender woman was named Viser, as Vali soon learned. The descendant of the original sinner begrudgingly adjusted his uniform, perturbed at the exactness of the measurements.

They descended down a flight of stairs hidden from the main building, entering into a corridor and coming up across a site that left Vali with far too many questions than answers.

The interior of the hidden bunker was more repellent than the caricature above it. Part-dungeon, with open chains hanging from gray-bricked walls and part-cell, with a large iron cage unfit to hold anything except humans. Part-workshop, clearly, with unusual desks glowing menacing auras, cupboards showered vials, flowers, ingredients and potion bottles of varying liquids. Part-smithy, somehow, with a tanning rack, forge, workbench and anvil decorating the corners and doing their best to appear inconspicuous. Finally, part-office, with the comparatively anachronistic modern desk and large leather swivel office chair.

Amidst this wondrously chaotic combination of rooms, the Red Dragon Emperor tinkered. His brow was furrowed in more concentration than Vali had seen him utilize for anything else. His lips would move softly, muttering words underneath his breath that absorbed the fullness of his concentration. Vali's gaze caught unto his lips, attempting to make out the words, nonsensical as they appeared.

…Restoration-Alchemy-Enchantment loop, Vali managed to pick up. Numbers in the millions… shatter reality… grand effects…

His mutterings went silent. He tilted his head skywards, as if recalling something long forgotten. Red eyes flickered towards them instantly.

"Vali," came the angelic slither. "How decently do you fare in one-versus-many battles?"

His pride almost demanded he scoff at the question. How decently do I fare? Battles in which the odds were against him were the bread and butter of the White Dragon Emperor. The more enemies that came, the further he divided their strength and added to his, the greater he became. Battles upon which the numbers were stacked against him were merely battles upon which the enemies devastated themselves.

"Decently," he crossed his arms. "Why?"

"By this time tomorrow, you're going to kill some rather important people."

His brows, both of them, inched higher than he anticipated. "…What?"

"Don't worry. A few hours from now, it'll make sense."

The Vampire paced back and forth across the room, delicious amusement flickering on his face. A devious expression that did not appear to bode well in the slightest for anyone, yet alone the Lucifer scion himself.

"Ah, yes," the Red Dragon Emperor chuckled. "Ah, yes, lovely. Simply lovely. I've been expecting you. Viser will get us some refreshments. I'd like to play Black. Standard rules? Fair enough. I choose d5 as my opening move regardless."

"Seth-sama?" Viser cleared her throat, clearly disturbed. "Is… is there anything we should know?"

A deep rumble tore from the Vampire's throat. "Merely amused, honestly, that despite standing directly next to you, neither of you are capable of seeing him." The vampire tilted his head. "I admit I'm curious as to how you're doing it. It doesn't quite feel like invisibility, nor is are you completely ethereal… so… what is it?"

Vali glanced beside him. The woman did the same. Neither of them could see anyone present. For a few seconds, Vali regretted his loss to the clearly insane, if not deranged and unhinged Vampire before him. That regret turned into terror in seconds, as a weight crashed into the room, and the scion of Lucifer found himself incapable of breathing.

The figure appeared like ripples travelling across water. His green hair and sharp eyes were unmistakable. No devil could misidentify the visage; none could claim ignorance to the sheer power that rolled off him in waves.

"A party trick," the words rolled off the tongue of the man that sent Vali's blood pumping and yet, his devil instincts screaming. "I simply tone down my own attunement to reality. Or rather, I place myself at a frequency which is typically too low for most beings to perceive."

"Must be excellent for spying on bathing women."

"Should I ever find myself idle enough to perform such an inane task, then perhaps." The green haired man tilted his head forward. "I play e4. I suppose a Scandinavian defense works in your favor." His lips twitched. "I'll admit, a game of Chess was not what I had in mind when I came here."

Ajuka… Beelzebub. Vali's blood was pumping. The Super-Devil. The only being in the Underworld revered as the equal to Sirzechs Lucifer. One of the most powerful devils in existence. That was the man who was amongst them, the man to whom the blasted Vampire so amusedly held conversation with as equals.

"Pawn takes d5," Ajuka said. "If you'll forgive my intrusion. You have a rather lovely abode. Incredibly practical."

You could take him, Vali told himself. You could. He probably, probably, could. Yet, his recent loss had humbled him. Vali's brain was working on full blast, and if Ajuka's famed Kankara Formula actually did even half of the things it was rumored to do, then it was a pointless matchup.

"Knight f6." The Vampire said. "I did originally try to go for an aesthetic appeal, but practicality seems to be what I ended up with." The Vampire shrugged, before gesturing his hand to his chair. "To what do I owe the honor, of a Satan coming down to my little abode?"

"Pawn d4," Ajuka continued. "It recently came to my attention that you'd made your home here, in Kuoh. I felt it pertinent to offer a housewarming present."

"Bishop g4," the Red Dragon Emperor grinned. "My, my, a housewarming present? Delivered in person by a Satan?" He turned to Vali. "Did you hear that Vali-kun? Viser? A housewarming present straight from the Beelzebub."

Vali tried to move. He did. He tried to activate his Sacred Gear. He did. He really did. Yet, it were as though he were rooted to the spot. As if he were two-dimensional figurine, futilely attempting to claw out from pages and exist on a higher plane. Idly, he managed to turn his eyeballs to the woman. Viser. She was just as frozen, no, perhaps worse off than he was. Her face was etched in an unholy smile of abject terror, to which the Vampire either choose not to acknowledge, or to which he was amused by.

Vali didn't know.

"Pawn f3." The Beelzebub said. "Granted, this present should have come sooner, as I feel it would have aided in ensuring we did not have a… conflict of interest."

Vali wasn't sure his ears were hearing correctly.

"Ah, you mean with Asmodeus-kun."

A heavy thump landed unto the floor. Vali's eyes latched unto it. The head of the Satan Asmodeus rolled away from the Vampire and landed at the feet of the Beelzebub.

"Rather unfortunate conflict of interest, it was. I had no interest in Falbium, but, I did have a minor complaint with his brother. A shame we could not mediate the matter, civilly."

A chill ran across the room. The Vampire's smile was almost saccharine. "Bishop f5."

"I see," the Beelzebub said. "Unfortunate, for Falbium indeed. But, I must ask about the nature of this particular complaint you had, to ensure we can resolve any further issues… civilly." The Beelzebub's eyes never went low. "Bishop B5… check."

"Knight bd7." The Vampire made a humming noise. "A rather aggressive game you play there, Ajuka."

"And you seem to play a rather relaxed game. One might almost think… you're not even trying to win." Ajuka responded, tilting his head. "Pawn c4."

"Perhaps," the Vampire moved cross to his seat, idly taking his place on it like a throne. "If you must know, Falbium's brother had unfortunately run afoul of a person I hold dear." Red glowing eyes cut across the room. "The punishment of course needed to suit the crime." The vampire waved his hand. "Pawn e6."

Ajuka's gaze glanced to the side, to the woman. Then back to the Vampire. "You summoned an army to raze the Glasya-Labolas Territory because… of her?"

The woman's face was somehow increasingly reddening, despite being locked in shell-shocked terror.

"What is mine is mine," the Vampire said. "Anything that decides to damage what is mine, be it past, present or future…" A chilling fanged smile appeared on his face. "Well, you've seen the outcome for yourself."

The room was eerily silent, for several thick seconds. "I see." Came the short response from Ajuka. "Am I to believe you have suitably conducted your vengeance?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," the Vampire repeated.

"You would condemn the entirety of Devil Society to perish for the crimes of one devil?"

"Yes." The Vampire chuckled. "I suppose the fault truly lays with you, Beelzebub. Your creations, the Peerage System, Devil Pieces…" the Vampire hummed. "…that's where it all started. So, I suppose, then, this would be your fault?"

Ajuka said nothing. The room basked in uncomfortable, tense silence.

"It's your move, by the way,"

"There is something more, isn't there?" Ajuka said. "You have the means and the numbers to completely wipe us out. Yet you haven't."

"Clever." The Vampire said. "Your move, now, don't keep me waiting."

"What is it you desire?"

The Vampire grinned. "Why don't you play your next move, and perhaps I'll tell you?"

"Pawn takes e6."

"Bishop takes e6."

"Bishop takes d7 – check."

The Vampire's grin grew. "Queen takes Bishop."

The room was tense. Vali knew Chess. He couldn't play it without a board, like the two monsters were currently doing. Certainly couldn't do it while holding a conversation. Whatever it was that was going on, Vali couldn't begin to comprehend it.

All at once, as though a startling realization came, Ajuka Beelzebub jerked.

"…that's it? Really?"

The Vampire shrugged. "Despite my appearances, I'm truly a simple being with simple desires."

"They would be offered to you on a silver platter if you merely but asked –"

"Do you want your discoveries handed to you on a silver platter?" the Vampire scoffed. "Would you be satisfied if someone approached you, invention in hand, shoving it into your chest and patting you on the back for successfully holding it?"

Ajuka muttered something like a tired sigh. "The challenge which comes from my research is only gratifying when I know I'm not in pursuit of an impossible task. It is frustrating otherwise." The devil's hand flared to the right. "More so… there are circumventions to that problem."

Bright, brilliant light filled the room. The Kankara Formula spurned to life, and before Vali's own eyes, a pile of multi-colored dust emerged. The dust blended together, rising and climbing until whitening into what was unmistakably a skeleton. Then, parts of the dust continued up, forming what were clearly the internal system of kidneys, heart, lungs, liver and brain. An initial layer of skin emerged immediately, wrapping tightly wound the organs. The major layer of skin followed, revealing the form to be feminine, endowed, and flowing with long, thick black hair.

Vali's breath hitched as the finer features came into view, the face clearly being unmistakable.

"…Ju," the voice cracked. "Juka-chan? What's… what's going on? Where are we? Why can't I feel my –"

With a snap, her lips vanished. Vali stared, awestruck, as Serafall Leviathan, or at least, what looked to be her exact body-double, dropped to the ground, immobile.

For the first time, the Vampire Dragon Emperor was not smiling.

"…What is the meaning of this?"

The Vampire did not sound pleased.

Ajuka gestured, simply. "Whereas Sirzechs possesses the penultimate Power of Destruction, capable of erasing everything, my Kankara Formula is his antithesis. So long as I know the formula, the correct calculations, I can manipulate anything. Matter, vectors, variables – and of course, I can combine all of that information and use it to create… anything."

"That is not the answer I'm looking for."

Ajuka pointed down. "This, is a perfect biological duplicate of Serafall Leviathan, from memories and mannerisms to gut bacteria and hormone secretion."

"And why, exactly, have you created a clone of Serafall in my office?"

"Because I am giving her to you," Ajuka said. "She is yours to do as you see fit."

The room was unnervingly, unerringly silent. The Vampire placed his hands into a steeple across his desk, his eyes sharper than ever. There was no amusement present any longer. No coy smirk. He was business, all-business.

"…I do not understand."

It was the first time Vali heard the man say those words.

"It baffles, and at the same time amuses me, that the reason you haven't yet wiped out all of devil society is because there are a select few devil women you wish to, for lack of a better word, recruit." Ajuka said.

"To which I offer a solution. To those women which cannot join you, I shall grant you perfect clones of them. And to those who have no obligations holding them back, they will be given freely, to you… as a political exchange."

"And why exactly, would I ever accept fakes when I can have the originals?"

"Because you have no way of knowing the difference," Ajuka said simply. He pointed to the Serafall-clone. "If she were to stand side-by-side with the original, you would be incapable of telling them apart. If I were to shuffle them around, and wipe their memories as to who was the original and who was the clone, and have you pick – you would never know if you chose the original or not."

Ajuka's eyes hummed with power. "They are perfect copies. I could kill the original and replace her, and no one, not you, not Sirzechs, not God nor Death, would ever realize it." Ajuka paused. "Death would wise up, eventually, upon having to reap a single soul twice. Regardless, that's a different matter entirely."

"You…" the Vampire paused. "They…" The Vampire paused again. "…even their souls are identical? You can create a perfect duplicate of a soul?"

"I created the Devil Pieces. This isn't my first foray into manipulating around souls. Human souls, devil souls –" Ajuka shook his head. "Regardless, yes. I can."

The silence in the room stretched even further. The Vampire rose. Then, Vali felt reality begin to whimper. As though an inexplicable force was drawing upon an eldritch, unspeakable power, the concept of existence felt paper thin.

"LAAS."

Vali saw it. His life. His birth. The moment he emerged into the world. He witnessed it, like a wild, vivid fever dream. His body shook away from the incapacitation, as the concept of being alive swelled through his bones, travelled from cell to cell, atom to atom.

The room shook. The world whimpered, cried, bemoaned the single utterance of a word which commanded a response. It was like watching a pimp backhand a recalcitrant whore, a bouncer tossing aside a drunken beggar.

From that single word, Vali felt his soul expose itself. He felt naked, despite being clothed, fully. Felt raw, exposed. He was incapable of hiding, of deception, of lies or falsities. He was an open book, with a finger running down the spine, and a thumb flicking through the pages.

"YAH."

Reality screeched harder. The second word was a missile. A pen. A blade. A knife. Targeted, it searched, hunted, piercing outwards from the room like a hunting dog with wet-noses buried into the dull foot imprints of hares.

"NIR."

A sense of wrongness pervaded and settled with the final word. A wave burst forth from the Vampire, travelling a distance to which Vali could not envision. The distinct sensation of being 'seen' hit him. Swelled him. He felt as though a thousand eyes in a thousand places were staring at him all at once. As if he were on a grand, elegant center stage, with blaring lights, locked down upon his form. An audience, watching, observing, looking, waiting –

The sensations ended just as quickly as they came. The pressure in the room settled, the mysterious reality-altering words leaving shudders and tremors travelling down his spine. He lay prone on the ground, catching his breath from the process, the woman, Viser, equally as stunned and silent as he was.

Yet –

"Fascinating!"

The Beelzebub remained standing; eyes farther open than ever. Enthralled, was the word. He was enthralled. "This is the first time I've seen such an event… fascinating, fascinating… do… do you know what you just did? No, silly me, of course you did. How you did it is what I'm interested in… to anchor commands into the fabric of space and time into mere words… though it's of a language I'm most certainly unfamiliar with…"

Monsters, Vali felt burn in his chest. Monsters, the both of them.

"…she has a soul." The Vampire said, somewhat disbelievingly. He turned to the Beelzebub. "You can create souls… from nothing."

"Not, nothing," The Beelzebub shook his head. "Energy. Star-stuff, if you wish to be poetic. Of course, demonic power also has its aid, but nevertheless, I'm more interested in that spell you just cast. It felt as though you were searching my soul with a magnifying glass. Did you perchance find anything interesting?"

The Vampire stared, silent. "…you are a rather miserable and empty man, Ajuka Beelzebub."

Ajuka laughed. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."

"She has a soul, but I noticed she doesn't have anywhere near the same level of power a Satan should have."

"That's because of laws about conservation of energy," Ajuka explained. "Feed her up, give her some training, and she should have the baseline power of a Satan eventually."

"…do you have at all, any, moral compunctions about this?"

"This?" Ajuka's eyes narrowed. "Do you mean creating an identical clone of my comrade without her knowledge and consent and handing it over to a Vampiric Dragon who can control the cosmos with words? Or perhaps meeting you in secret and to appease the being responsible for the deaths of one of my comrades and vast majority of my people? Or do you mean playing god and creating life? I'm afraid you'll have to be somewhat more specific."

The Vampire paused. "All of it."

"You sound like you're a mortal," Ajuka chuckled. "Or a human, at least." He mused. "At the end of the day, the only thing I truly care about is furthering my research, and ensuring Sirzechs doesn't have to deal with more workload than he needs to. Super-Devil, Satan – I honestly didn't want any of it. But Sirzechs did, and so, I find myself having to do things that he can't or won't… because he believes in a fixed system of morality."

"And you don't?"

"Do you?" Ajuka laughed. "Morality is limiting. I do not care for it. Gods create and destroy life on a whim, some do so without purpose or meaning. Some would claim it immoral to do so, others would disagree." The Satan shook his head. "I do not fancy myself a god despite having the power to best several of their ilk. However if I did, my creations can take solace in the fact that they exist for a purpose that goes beyond merely the eternal repeating worship of my own greatness."

He pointed to the Serafall-clone. "She will be glad to know that her existence means that the real her, and her sister, will live out their days peacefully."

"I did not say I was accepting her."

"Yet, you did not say you were going to refuse her either."

The Vampire was silent for several further seconds. Ajuka sighed, gesturing his finger outward. A blade emerged from his hand, hovering over the Serafall-clone's neck. "If you truly do not want her, then I suppose I'll simply kill –"

The pressure in the room increased three-fold.

"Kill her, and I end you here."

Ajuka could only manage a smile. "Of course." The Satan's smile grew further. "I remember clearly what you said about your possessions. I take it… that means you've decided to keep her?"

"…"

"Very well." Ajuka nodded. "If there are any more individuals that you are interested in, I'll do what I can to ensure that they reach you. I suppose you would not mind Serafall's sister, to make it balanced?"

"You –"

"Unfortunately, I do not have the complete data to make a perfect clone of her right now. However, with some time, I should be able to give you a perfect clone of her, as well as Sirzechs' sister…" Ajuka paused. "Hm… though Sirzechs wouldn't be fond of the idea, I'm certain he would prefer it to having you take his 'real' sister. Of course, I could always swap them around so you get the 'original' and he gets the perfect-copy –"

"Enough." The Vampire rose his hand. "No more clones."

"What?"

"No. More. Clones." The Vampire stressed. "None. Ever."

Ajuka Beelzebub's lips twitched. "As much as I'd love to follow that order, I'm afraid my priorities will always lean in favor of what is most optimal for the situation… unless of course… I had certain, assurances."

"…For the meantime, I will halt my campaign against wiping out all devils from the world."

"Excellent," Ajuka said. "Unfortunately, as it stands, due to certain actions of yours, even should you choose not to wipe us all with your army, it is a threat we very well may face from the combined forces of the church and the fallen. If, perhaps, they were not a factor in this equation…"

"Ajuka…" the Vampire growled.

The Beelzebub smiled. "It would be a tragedy, if the first Serafall were to fall in battle, and the second one were to be the only one left alive… in such a case, would it matter if she were a clone or the original?"

"…I'll see to it that the Devil Faction isn't disturbed."

"Truly?" Ajuka smiled. "In that case, I will see to it, that Devil Society comes to understand that we have strong and powerful allies in the form of the famed Red and White Dragon Emperors."

There was so much pressure in the room that Vali felt as though his head was going to split. The two men faced off against each other, somehow, the entire dynamics at the start of the meeting spun completely on its head. The Vampire looked a few short steps away from murder, whereas Ajuka looked more pleased than should have been legal.

"There are numerous questions I have regarding your workshop and magic, but I'm afraid there are other obligations I have that must be attended to elsewhere. It is rather tiring, leading a society."

"Rather tiring."

"I'll inform the train operators to grant you access to the underworld. I do hope we can continue to exchange information and be of much help to one another…" Ajuka paused. "…ah, silly me. I do seem to realize that I do not know your name."

"…Seth."

"No relation to brothers Cain or Abel, I hope?" Ajuka mused.

"None that I'm aware of."

"Then, Seth," the Beelzebub smiled. "Call me Ajuka. My office, is always available to you."

"We didn't conclude our match."

"But you already knew the outcome, didn't you?"

"…how many moves? Twelve? Thirteen?"

"Eleven." Ajuka said. "It was a good game. You're a much better caliber of player than I'm used to."

"I had a decent chance of winning."

"You did," Ajuka admitted. "If only you hadn't played defensively."

The Vampire, uncharacteristically, remained silent.

"Goodbye, Seth." Ajuka said, tilting his head. "It was a pleasure."

The pressure in the room vanished as the Beelzebub did. Vali felt air rush through his lung at an increased pace, all the weight of the world flying off his shoulders. He coughed, grunted, and sprung to his feet as quickly as he could, doing his best to ward off the appearance of weakness.

Viser took her time, shakily rising to her feet. There was a moment in which nobody said anything, because nobody knew what to say. The Vampire remained rooted to the spot, his face unreadable.

The silence was immediately broken by a loud, feminine yawn, in which the naked doppelganger of Serafall Leviathan groggily sat up, blinked, and stared in confusion into the room.

"…this isn't Sona-tan's bedroom… is it?"

~~~~ Force Without Balance ~~~~~~

Sometimes, Ajuka's own genius frightened him.

"You… what?"

"I found the person responsible for the attack on the Glasya-Labolas territory, made them our ally and convinced them to prevent the Angels and Fallen from attacking us, if not outright telling them to destroy the other two factions for us."

"…and what did it cost?"

"They want some devil women to add to their harem."

"…you're joking."

"I'm not."

"Ajuka, if I'm getting this correctly, you're telling me, you managed to simultaneously create a major ally for us, eliminate a major enemy, and possibly prevent all-out war… and all it costs… is… women?"

"I will never quite understand what is so alluring about women to be so overvalued."

"…which women?"

"That's the caveat. If I'm getting this right…" Ajuka took a deep breath. "Your sister, her peerage, Serafall, Serafall's sister, her peerage, your mother and possibly your wife."

"…Ajuka."

"I can clone your mother, wife and sister if it comes to it, but her peerage will have to go. I made him believe I can create an infinite number of perfect clones, but it takes far too much magic power, especially to create clones of powerful individuals. I can only create about three more for another two hundred or so years. It should be enough for the ruse to last."

"And you're sure this is the right choice to make? We can't defeat this foe?"

"He's one of them, Sirzechs." Ajuka sighed. "Ineffable."

"You confirmed it?"

"I stood in front of him and searched for a limit to his magical power." Ajuka said. "It's not infinite, but it makes both of us look like a drop in a bucket. We lucked out in that he's fairly young – naïve. He's not like the other Ineffable Beings who've outlived us by millennia and will outlive us by further millennia. He's crafty, but not as much as he thinks. Smart, but lacking in just enough experience for us to always be one step ahead. The best thing we can do right now is ally with him. I calculate nothing but positives from doing so, and only absolute negatives from making him our enemy."

"…you're not the one prostituting your family, Ajuka."

"I'll clone them, Sirzechs so it's fine."

"But you can't let him know they've been cloned?"

"…no."

"So that leaves the world having to believe the narrative that I gave out my own family for the sake of peace?"

"Believe it or not, that will actually enhance your reputation, rather than hurt it. Many devils feel you're soft, but if they believe that your family is no longer your weakness…"

"I have a better idea, Ajuka. A battle, one on one."

"You'll die."

"I would rather die than let the world believe that Sirzechs Lucifer is the type of devil who would abandon his family."

"Don't be foolish! Your death will accomplish nothing! You will die, and he will take your family regardless, all for what? Pride?" Ajuka hissed. "Listen Sirzechs! It is not every day you encounter a being with the potential power of the Great Red, but the mental aptitude of a hormonal human teenager. I understand your attachment to your family, Sirzechs, but to not take hold of this opportunity is –"

"I've made up my mind, Ajuka."

"Sirzechs, listen to me! You can't –"

Ajuka grit his teeth. He bit hard and resisted the urge to swear. He'd perfectly estimated how much affection Sirzechs had for his family, but grossly miscalculated how much pride the Lucifer possessed in his image of having great affection for his family.

Sirzechs would rather die than have people believe he gave up his sister, mother and wife. He would rather that he was seen, fighting for their honor and dignity till his dying breath, than let it be seen as someone who signed them over out of cowardice.

If Sirzechs went ahead with his asinine one vs one challenge, which Ajuka's power told him was increasingly likely, then –

Then…

The answers, and predictions, all came charging into his head all at once. Ajuka Beelzebub sat in his office, staring blankly and disbelievingly.

"It… can't be."

He remembered the opening strategy Seth used. The reluctant, lazy, defensive method of play. "It's like you're not even trying to win," he'd told the being.

"Of course."

He wasn't.

Seth wasn't trying to win.

Ajuka hadn't see it. He'd been playing on a rather small board, focused only on one tiny corner. Whether or not the three factions went to war, whether or not Sirzechs accepted or refused the demands, whether or not Ajuka created clones –

It didn't change the outcome.

Seth wasn't trying to win, because he'd already won.

There was almost no possible outcome of the series of events which would follow, in which the being would not get what he desired. Not unless Ajuka went out of his way to kill and murder several women out of spite. No, perhaps, even if Ajuka did do that, that would only serve to benefit him further. No doubt he could resurrect the dead, a tiny fact that slipped underneath Ajuka's notice until just recently.

Whether they died, whether they lived, whether Ajuka killed them, whether the war happened, whether it didn't happen –

The crash had already long since occurred, and the Satan had been engaged in a futile battle against inertia.

"…Terrifying."

Ajuka Beelzebub could not, and did not remember the last time someone had done something to set his blood aflame like this and alight him with a newfound passion and respect. Not since –

Not since Sirzechs.

The old Sirzechs. The blood-grizzled, bone-faced wielder of the Power of Destruction. The Sirzechs before he became tamed by administrative life. The Sirzechs before he had a younger sister to which he embarrassingly obsessed over to the point of pseudo-erotic fixations. The Sirzechs before he was a father and leader. The Sirzechs from a much, much different time.

Ajuka hadn't seen that Sirzechs in ages. He'd seen a flash of him, when he'd destroyed the creatures that invaded the Glasya-Labolas Territory, but other than that…

Well, the Beelzebub thought. I suppose it's time I moved on to something new.

A new… Sirzechs.

And this one, at least, seemed to know his way around a workshop. In Ajuka's mind, that was always a plus.