[ 3rd POV ]
The taste of defeat still lingered on Tsubaki's tongue when her consciousness crept back like an unwelcome guest.
Her eyelids fought gravity for what felt like hours before finally surrendering to the inevitable, and the first thing she registered was the sensation of warmth beneath her head.
Soft thighs cushioned her, and fingers gently carded through her disheveled hair with tenderness. The scent of lavender wafted down from above, unmistakably Momo's signature perfume, and Tsubaki's damaged consciousness pieced together the situation one fragment at a time.
She was in her bishop's lap, being treated like some wounded warrior from a period drama, and the sheer mortification of it threatened to drag her back into unconsciousness.
Her glasses were gone. Split down the middle during that catastrophic exchange with the blonde girl who'd smiled while demolishing her defenses.
Throb
Her head pounded like someone was using her head as a drum, each pulse sending fresh waves of agony.
"Tsubaki-senpai?" Momo's voice drifted down "Please don't move too quickly. Your body needs time to—"
Tsubaki pushed herself upright anyway.
The world tilted sideways for a nauseating moment, gravity doing its damnedest to reassert its dominance over her, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself through sheer bloody-mindedness. The Queen piece burning in her chest provided just enough supernatural resilience to keep her from face-planting back into unconsciousness, though it was a near thing.
She blinked hard, trying to force her vision into something resembling clarity, and the factory ruins gradually resolved themselves from abstract shapes into recognizable devastation. The remains of industrial machinery jutting from rubble piles like the bones of irons.
And standing in the center of it all, backlit by the moonlight through the destroyed roof, was Sona Sitri.
The sight of her president standing there with her full peerage behind her like chess pieces on an endgame board sent relief flooding through Tsubaki
"President..." Tsubaki's voice came out desperate "Where is—"
Her gaze swept the ruins in increasingly frantic, searching for him, but all she found was just rubble and her fellow peerage members picking through the destruction like archaeologists examining ancient ruins. The absence hit her harder than she expected, her fist clenched around her heart as she imagined the worst...
"Motohama is fine" Sona said. She didn't turn around, still watching Saji and Tsubasa haul a twisted support beam aside "He left to check on his companions after we secured the area"
Whooooosh
The breath Tsubaki didn't realize she'd been holding escaped in a rush that left her feeling lightheaded.
"If he hadn't summoned you in time..." Tsubaki's hands clenched into fists against her thighs. The memory of Jeanne's cheerful smile as holy swords rained down like divine judgment "We would have been killed tonight. Both of us"
Sona finally turned and uncrossed her arms with deliberate slowness, the gesture somehow conveying both authority and gentleness.
"You're mistaken, Tsubaki"
The words landed like stones dropped into still water, ripples of confusion spreading across Tsubaki's consciousness.
She blinked, her damaged vision making it impossible to read the situation that usually betrayed Sona's thoughts "I don't... President, what do you mean? He must have used the summoning flyer to—"
"Motohama-san didn't summon me" Sona's voice remained calm "He engaged both opponents alone... Fought them to a standstill... he succeeded in severing the silver-haired swordsman's right arm before we arrived"
Silence.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, as if nature itself recognized the magnitude of that statement. Tsubaki felt her brain short-circuit, neurons firing in random patterns as they tried and failed to process information that contradicted everything she knew about power scaling in their world.
"He didn't summon you?" The words felt foreign in her mouth, like she was speaking a language she'd only just learned "But then how did you—"
"We heard an explosion" Sona adjusted her glasses "From this distance, it was loud enough to rattle windows in the student council room. I made the decision to investigate immediately"
Krak-krak-krak.
Somewhere in the rubble, something settled with a sound like breaking bones.
"So he..." Tsubaki's voice barely qualified as a whisper now "He was aiming for that? The demolition, the collapsing infrastructure... it was a signal?"
Sona's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but held grudging respect.
"Among other things. He must have create a dust cloud that obscured his movements from the swordsman. His tactical thinking under pressure is impressive for someone with less than a month of combat experience" She paused, then added almost as an afterthought "Not only that, he kept you safe while he was engaging with opponents throughout the entire engagement"
"Motohama-kun put himself in such danger..." The words slipped out unbidden, barely audible even to her own ears "For me?"
Momo's hand found her shoulder, squeezing gently in silent support, and Tsubaki felt something inside her chest that had been frozen for years start to thaw. She'd dismissed him alongside Matsuda and Issei as human garbage to be tolerated at best, avoided at worst while maintaining careful distance like he carried some social disease that might infect her through proximity. And all the while, underneath that perverted exterior had lurked someone capable of this kind of selfless courage?
Sona was still watching her with those unreadable eyes behind reflective lenses.
"Keeping that aside" she said, her tone shifting back into pure analytical mode "we need to discuss the details of tonight's events. He said they identified themselves as the Hero Faction of the Khaos Brigade, correct?"
Tsubaki forcibly shoved her emotional turmoil into the mental box labeled 'deal with later' and straightened herself.
"Correct, President. Two members. The blonde girl called herself Jeanne and wielded a Sacred Gear called Blade Blacksmith, capable of creating holy swords with various elemental attributes on demand...." She paused, remembering red eyes assessing her "The silver haired one approached Motohama-san with a recruitment offer. Stated that the Hero Faction seeks humans who transcend their limitations through Sacred Gears. But I didn't see his sacred gear"
"If they succeed in recruiting him," Sona said slowly, each word carefully weighted "we would lose access to the Sleep Disease potion. And not just that, every other potion he's capable of producing will become a potential weapon in the hands of such an organization" Her hands clasped behind her back "The losses would be... significant. For the entire devil race, not just our territory.....Tsubaki"
Tsubaki realised she had been so focused on the immediate threat, on her own humiliating defeat, that she hadn't considered the bigger picture. Motohama's potions weren't just convenient tools, they were potentially game-changing assets in the delicate balance of power across the factions. Healing potions that worked on devils. Enhancement ones that bypassed limitations. And who knew what else he could create given time and resources?
"I'll need to contact my sister immediately" Sona continued "Request detail about this hero faction, Perhaps even—"
"President!"
The blonde pawn was jogging toward them through the rubble, Tsubasa and Reya trailing behind with identical expressions of frustration. He stopped a respectful distance away, hands on his knees as he caught his breath, and Tsubaki noticed his uniform was torn in several places.
"So....did you find it?"
Saji straightened, shaking his head with visible disappointment "I searched every corner of this mess, President. Under every pile, inside every hole" He gestured broadly at the devastation surrounding them "But I couldn't find it. The arm that got cut off? It's not here"
Tsubasa nodded confirmation, brushing concrete dust from her short hairs "We looked around the entire area. If it was here, we would've found it by now"
Sona pushed up her glasses.
"Is that so.." The words came out in a slight disappointment. She stood still for a long moment, gaze distant as she looked at the spot where he was earlier "Could it be that he...?"
---
[ Motohama's Pov ]
My bedroom smelled of blood and bad decisions.
I lifted Nothung in front of my face. The Demon Sword stayed in my grip, a subsonic vibration that I felt in my bones more than heard with my ears, and for something that had been gripped by a severed hand less than an hour ago it was remarkably clean but emitted aura of malevolent energy that made my skin crawl in ways I couldn't quite piece together.
"Kalawarner...." I said without looking at her, my eyes still fixed on the blade's hypnotic gleam "Can you sense any presences around the house? Anyone watching?"
"There seems to be no concealed observers I can detect" She paused, followed by curiosity "Why do you ask? And more importantly..how did you get your hands on such a powerful Demon Sword?"
I finally lowered Nothung.
And set it down on my study desk with exaggerated care, like I was handling a live grenade instead of a legendary weapon, then turned around to face my fallen angel roommate.
The sight that greeted me was exactly what I'd expected and simultaneously nothing I'd been prepared for. Kalawarner sat on my bed, completely naked, one leg crossed over the other.
"Would you believe If I say I found it in the rubble?" I leaned back against my desk.
"...."
I crossed my arms "Listen, Kala. I think we need to step up our game. Spend more time training" I drummed my fingers against the desk, considering how to phrase this "What I'm about to tell you stays between us. Don't tell Asia. Not yet. She doesn't need the extra stress while she's still adjusting to her happy new life"
She nodded as I gave her quick details of Hero Faction's recruitment pitch. The fact that I was now marked for death by someone who collected Demon Swords like other people collected stamps and had both the skill and motivation to follow through on his promise.
"You are now a target of the Hero faction?..." Kalawarner said.
"Yeah." I rubbed my face, feeling exhaustion settle into my bones like wet cement "That's it, So we need to—"
GROOOWWWWL.
My stomach interrupted with a sound like a dying whale.
"Right. Can't plan about survival strategies with an empty stomach. Let's have dinner first, then we can continue this talk"
Kalawarner nodded and got up without protest for further details.
Within seconds she'd pulled on one of my oversized shirts that hung on her frame like a dress. The domestic scene was so jarringly normal compared to the conversation we'd just had about terrorist organizations and murder threats that I felt reality whiplash.
"You should rest. Your body needs recovery time even if the wounds are healed"
Then she was gone.
The door clicked shut with a soft click, and I was alone with my thoughts and a Demon Sword. Fantastic. I slumped into my desk chair, feeling springs protest under my weight, and stared at the ceiling like it held answers for my new predicament.
I have to take this leader role more seriously.
I'd been operating on instinct and luck so far, making shit up as I went along, treating this like some kind of isekai power fantasy where the protagonist stumbles ass-backwards into victory through plot armor and convenient coincidences. But tonight had stripped away that comfortable delusion. The enemies were real and so were the consequences.
The possibility of getting the people depending on me killed through my incompetence was for real.
Asia.
Kalawarner.
They were all betting their safety on my ability to not fuck this up. And so far, I'd been playing this entire situation with all the strategic planning of a drunk person playing chess against a grandmaster.
Starting now I had to prepare carefully not just for the dangers that I know, but also for the ones that I am not aware of.
But before that, I had a ticket to roll.
I pulled up my system interface with a thought.
The familiar blue screen appeared in my vision, transparent and glowing, displaying my unused Gacha ticket.
[ Rank 3 Gacha Ticket ]
Right. The system had dropped me a prize for not getting murdered. How thoughtful. I'd been saving it, telling myself I'd use it when I had time to properly appreciate whatever random gift it had decided to throw my way.
After tonight? I'd earned a hit of dopamine, even if it came in the form of digital gambling.
The screen erupted in blue light sparkles and effects that would've made a mobile game developers weep with pride, and text began scrolling across the display in that dramatic font the system loved to use for anything remotely important.
[Familiar Acquired]
I blinked.
A familiar? The system was giving me a familiar? Those were supposed to be in rewards? Well, this wasn't expected....
More and more details filled up on screen:
---
Type: Shadow Familiar
Rank: III
Status: Bound
---
Huh.
A shadow familiar. That was... actually pretty damn useful considering my current predicament. Stealth operations, surveillance, maybe even assassination as I was willing to cross that particular moral line. The system had rather given me something helpful instead of a useless item for me, to collect dust in my room.
FWOOOSH!
The blue screen dissolved into bits of light that swirled around my bedroom like fireflies on steroids, and from the center of that miniature light show, something emerged, resembling something black and feathered....
A crow?
It appeared in my room with zero fanfare beyond the visual effects, then settled into a lazy circular movement around my ceiling. Glossy black feathers caught the dim light from my desk lamp, and when it turned its head to look at me, I found myself staring into eyes that glowed with faint blue glow.
"...not bad" I muttered, extending one finger.
The crow, my crow apparently, since we were bonded now according to the system, landed on my offered perch with surprising weight. Talons gripped my skin without harming it, and I could feel an odd resonance between us. Not quite telepathy. More like... awareness. I knew it was there and it knew I was here.
It was small, but it was kind of bird you'd overlook in an urban environment because crows were everywhere and nobody paid attention to the local wildlife. Which, thinking about it tactically, made it perfect for surveillance work. Who'd suspect the random bird perched on a telephone wire of being a magical construct linked to a wannabe alchemist?
"Welcome to the team, little one" I said, absently stroking its feathers with my free hand.
The crow tilted its head.
It regarded me with those unsettling blue eyes, and I got the distinct impression it was judging my life choices. I was sitting in my bedroom at ungodly hours, petting a magical bird while a Demon Sword sat on my desk and a fallen angel made dinner downstairs. My life choices were objectively terrible and getting worse by the day.
The path ahead is going to be more dangerous.
I'd been happy that I hadn't gotten dragged into the Riser engagement arc. That particular clusterfuck of politics and arranged marriages and rating game battles had seemed like exactly the kind of main plot I wanted to avoid. But the Hero Faction showing up out of nowhere and Siegfried personally marking me for death? That made everything infinitely worse.
I sighed as I felt like I dodged a bullet, only to get hit by a canonball.
Can't really complain now can I? Even if I do complain what it would change exactly?
Nothing.
"All I can do is get stronger" I continued, organizing my thoughts out loud because sometimes hearing yourself say things made them feel more real "Get Asia and Kalawarner to elevate their overall combat strength. And for that—"
"—for that, I need ingredients. Not just from the underworld, but from other realms. Norse, Greek, maybe even Heaven if I can swing it without getting smited" I looked at the crow perched on my finger.
I have to contact Serafall, only she can arrange the ingredients from different realms.
The crow just watched me with those glowing eyes, waiting for... something. A command? Direction? I didn't know how this familiar bond thing worked yet. The system had dumped it in my lap with no instruction manual and expected me to figure it out through trial and error
"You're going to need a name" I said, changing the topic "Can't just keep calling you 'crow' or 'hey you' every time I need—"
I stopped.
Thought about it for a moment and finally decided with the coolest name I could think of.
"How about... Sýr?"
The crow's eyes flared brighter for a moment.
Not a dramatic flash. Just a subtle intensification of that blue glow, and through our bond I felt something that might've been acknowledgment. Or maybe I was projecting human emotions onto a magical construct.
"Sýr it is then" I nodded, satisfied with my naming convention "Do you have a human form?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them "Like, can you shapeshift? Transform into something other than—"
Sýr tilted its head.
Left, right. Like it was processing the question through whatever passed for a familiar's brain. I waited, hope building in my chest despite my better judgment telling me to stop expecting it to be like Rias's familiar.
"Yeah, that's what I thought" I sighed, slumping back in my chair "Got my hopes up for nothing. Of course the shadow familiar is just a—"
FLASH!
Light exploded across my vision with pure white radiance, the kind that seared afterimages into your eyes and made you see spots for the next five minutes. I threw up a hand instinctively, squinting against the sudden supernova that had apparently decided to detonate in my bedroom, and distantly wondered if this was how I died.
Not from terrorist swordsmen or fallen angels or devils, but from spontaneous magical combustion triggered by asking my familiar a stupid question.
Finally, The light faded.
I blinked away the spots dancing across my vision, trying to force my eyes to remember how to function properly, and gradually the world resolved itself back into recognizable shapes.
Except.
Except where there had been a crow perched on my finger, there was now a girl.
Sitting.
On my lap?
Facing me directly with her face approximately six inches from mine.
What the—?
My brain went through several emotional stages in rapid succession and finally settling on shocked acceptance of my apparent reality.
The girl, because yes, this was definitely a human-shaped person currently occupying the space where my familiar had been, she was slender, athletic, with black hair pulled into a high ponytail that somehow defied gravity in ways that suggested either magic or illegal hair products. Loose strands drifted around her face like they existed in their own personal wind current, and the lower half of her face was covered by a fitted black mask that left only her eyes visible.
Her eyes faintly glowed blue. Exactly like Sýr's crow form, but scaled up to human proportions and somehow even more bluer.
Her outfit was a matte-black detailing her voluptuous figure that would make Kardashians jealous.
We stared at each other.
Sýr tilted her head.
The gesture was identical to her crow form, just scaled up to human proportions, and somehow even more unnerving when performed by a masked girl sitting in my lap.
I opened my mouth to say... something. Anything. Maybe "hello" or "can you please not sit on me" or "this is fine actually" or literally any combination of words that would break this increasingly surreal silence.
CREEEAK!
The door to my room opened.
Time slowed to a crawl as my head turned toward the sound with all the enthusiasm of a man watching himself getting caught by his wife, and standing in the doorway with a tray of food was Kalawarner, her expression was one of pleasant that lasted approximately 0.3 seconds before her brain registered the scene.
Me, sitting in my desk chair.
Sýr, sitting in my lap facing me.
Both of us in, what looked like the most incriminating position, just missing the preferred nudity.
Kala's eyes twitched as Syr faced her and tilted head in oblivious unawareness of the situation.
As someone who never been in this situation before, I thought of most reasonable action right now I could think of.
I turned to face Kala and patted the spot next to me with a welcoming smile.
"Hey, Kalawarner. Come here and join us!"
. . .
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