Minutes later…
The hallway was silent.
Takashi's mutilated corpse, split cleanly into left and right halves, lay motionless on the cold floor. A grotesque sight smeared in red.
Until—
Twitch.
A finger moved. Then another.
Wet, tearing sounds followed as the two halves began to twitch and inch closer together, dragged by some invisible force. Every stray droplet of blood, every smear on the floor and door, slithered back toward the body like iron filings pulled by a magnet.
The pieces joined unnaturally. Bones knit. Flesh reformed. Organs realigned.
Within moments, the body was whole again. No signs of the brutal, surgical dissection remained. Only the bloodstains fading into his skin like ink into water.
He was alive.
Takashi gasped, jolting upright.
"Aaaahhh!"
It wasn't physical pain. It was something deeper. His hands flew to his head as he dropped to his knees, gritting his teeth. Something was burning inside his mind. A flood of images, sounds, and memories of his death clawed at his sanity.
He sucked in deep breaths, trembling.
"I know who she was," he muttered, voice low and hoarse.
Unsteady, he got to his feet and shut the front door with a dull click. He didn't lock it. Didn't even look at the bloodstained floor. Just walked toward the table, straight past the untouched glass.
He picked up the jug with both hands and drank directly from it.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
Water spilled down his chin, but he didn't stop.
"A fallen angel…" he mumbled, lowering the jug with a trembling hand.
His mind replayed the moment she revealed her wings. Black wings. Not some costume, but real, feathery, unmistakably divine… or rather, corrupted.
That was all the confirmation he needed.
She was a fallen angel.
And if that was true—
His breath caught. His eyes widened.
"Wait a minute. Do I still have everything?"
Panic surged. He immediately placed his hand on the jug, then a marble appeared in his hand instead. It vanished just as quickly.
He let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay, that's still working."
But then he felt it.
A void.
His face tensed.
"No."
His expression darkened as he reached inward, toward the thing that had become second nature since the simulation.
His shield.
Gone.
His most reliable weapon.
His ace.
The Sacred Gear. Missing.
"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered. His eyes widened in horror. His lips curled in frustration, fury, and something else—fear.
That confirmed it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
She wasn't just some cosplaying threat. She was real.
And this world… this messed up world really has DxD in it.
He staggered back a step, bracing a hand on the table. His voice cracked.
"Shit. Shit. This just went from weird to suicidal."
A few minutes ago, Takashi thought the biggest thing on his plate was dealing with cannibalistic freaks who hunted humans for lunch.
Now?
Gods. Angels. Demons. Dragons.
He clenched his jaw.
What the actual hell kind of crossover madness is this?
And the worst part? Humans were at the bottom of the food chain.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair and paced in circles. "This isn't just bad. This is DxD bad."
Back in his old life, this world was just another anime fans drooled over for the fan service. Busty devils. Flirty angels. Overpowered high school kids.
People forgot what this world really was.
Devils needed humans to form contracts, sure. But let's not kid ourselves. Those were selfish deals. Eternal slavery, in the end.
Angels needed humans too. For similar reasons.
Fallen angels? Oh, they were the worst. They hunted humans. Especially those born with sacred gears—gifts from God himself.
"Of course Azazel's an expert on sacred gears," Takashi muttered bitterly. "You think he just asked nicely? No. He ripped them out of people. Studied them like broken toys. Bet he didn't lose sleep over how many died for his research."
He slammed his hand against the wall, teeth grinding. His sacred gear—his shield—was gone. The one thing that could've saved his life when things hit the fan.
Gone.
Taken.
He didn't even need to guess who did it.
"That bitch was a fallen."
And vampires?
"Oh yeah. Can't forget those bloodsuckers. To them, humans are walking blood bags. Livestock."
His throat felt dry again. But this time, water wouldn't help.
There were other creatures too. Beasts and monsters beyond imagination. You name it, it probably wanted to eat, enslave, or experiment on humans.
"Great. Just great," he hissed. "I'm stuck in a crossover apocalypse… and I'm playing it on nightmare mode."
He shut his eyes and drew a shaky breath through his nose.
If it wasn't for that resurrection card…
His hand curled into a fist.
That pain—it wasn't just physical. For a few seconds, it felt like his soul was being torn apart. Scattered across a thousand screaming echoes. He didn't want to imagine what would've happened if he hadn't had that fallback.
In fact, he wouldn't have been able to. There would've been nothing left of him.
"Damn it," he hissed under his breath and slammed his palm on the table.
I need to know what timeline this is. Where in the plot I've landed. His thoughts raced. Kuoh Town… I've heard that name. It's familiar. Too damn familiar.
"If only I'd remembered earlier," he muttered bitterly, raking a hand through his hair. "Maybe I could've avoided her. Maybe I wouldn't have lost my two biggest cards."
Frustration bubbled under his skin—at his loss, at his own carelessness. He clenched his jaw.
Calm down. Calm down. Beating himself up wouldn't fix anything now.
Taking a deep breath, then another, he forced himself to focus. Let the fog clear.
"Alright. Let's go over what I know about High School DxD."
*********
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