Kuoh Academy – Late Morning
The sky above Kuoh was clear, a rare lull in the summer heat. Birds fluttered above the school's gates, a tranquil silence falling over the classrooms. And yet, to those sensitive to magic, something had shifted.
In the Occult Research Club room, Rias Gremory looked up from a game of chess she was idly playing against herself. Her crimson eyes narrowed.
"A distortion," she murmured.
Koneko tilted her head. "A devil's spell?"
"No. Not demonic in origin."
Kiba stepped forward, having just returned from the main building. "It started when the new transfer student arrived. Amon Monarque."
Rias tapped a rook against the board, deep in thought. "Then perhaps it's time I met him."
Second Floor Corridor
Amon stood by the window, watching students pass like raindrops against the flow of time. Every now and then, he'd blink — not for the sake of moisture, but to refocus the tether of his awareness across a dozen overlapping perceptions of reality.
He was here. But he was also elsewhere. Reflected in the windows. Echoing in whispers. Touching strings no one could see.
It had begun.
A moment later, the air cooled slightly.
A familiar presence — crimson, elegant, proud.
Amon turned slowly as Rias Gremory approached, her presence cloaked in noble stillness, like a queen surveying her court.
She stopped beside him, eyes sharp but not unkind. "Amon Monarque, I presume."
He inclined his head. "Miss Gremory. What a pleasure."
"No need to be so formal," she said, tone pleasant but wary. "I find it curious how quickly you've integrated into Kuoh Academy."
"I find myself curious about many things too," he replied, smile faint. "For example: why does a devil of noble blood disguise herself in the shell of a schoolgirl?"
Rias narrowed her gaze. "You know what I am?"
"Oh, I know what you want to be. And what you fear you'll become." Amon's eyes gleamed behind his monocle. "You carry burdens not meant for mortals. You shoulder expectations from beings who deal in bloodlines and thrones. All while pretending to care about high school festivals and student council meetings."
She said nothing for a long moment. But the air had gone still.
"You're not a devil," she said at last. "Nor an angel. But you're not human either."
"Ah, now we're asking the interesting questions." Amon stepped away from the window, shadows dancing faintly along the walls. "I am not of this world, Rias Gremory. But I'm in it. And perhaps... for now, that's enough."
Kuoh Academy Courtyard — Same Time
Azazel's hidden observer drone buzzed silently above the courtyard.
"Still no fluctuation in signature," came the report over the Grigori line. "But localized distortions are increasing. Like micro-tears in reality."
Azazel leaned back in his chair in the Underworld, one brow arching.
"Let him poke the fabric a bit. I want to see what breaks."
Main Hall Bell Tower — Noon
No one used the old bell anymore. Its structure had been condemned. The door sealed. But today… the wind stirred differently.
As students flooded the halls for lunch, the temperature dropped just a few degrees.
A girl on her way to the courtyard paused beneath the bell tower, hearing a soft chime. Just one. Quiet.
"Was that…?"
She turned to look. The bell hadn't moved. But the sound echoed again. Louder this time. More… off-key.
In the library, a row of books dropped from the shelves in unison. In the gymnasium, all basketballs rolled into a perfect circle and stopped.
In the faculty lounge, the clock ticked backward for three seconds — no one noticed.
Atop the roof, where Amon and Rias now stood finishing their quiet conversation, a single feather of gold drifted down between them. It dissolved before touching the floor.
Rias turned, hair ruffling in the breeze. "What did you do?"
Amon looked up at the sky. "I said hello."
"To who?"
He smiled. "To the world."
Occult Research Club – Evening
"It's spreading," Akeno said softly, examining a glowing runic circle that had appeared in the center of their summoning table — one no one had etched.
"It's not a curse. It's not even malicious," she continued. "But it moves. It wants to be seen. But only by some."
"Symbols of an older language," murmured Rias. "Like they were carved into the fabric of the school itself."
Koneko touched the edge. "He's marking territory."
Mirror Room – That Night
Amon stood alone, bare feet touching the cool stone of his sanctum. The mirror walls shimmered with faint illusions: images of Rias, Sona, Azazel, even Serafall — distant, but felt.
In one corner of the room, a crude sculpture had formed from melted desks, chalkboards, and shattered windows — it looked like a malformed angel with too many wings.
Amon regarded it thoughtfully.
"Too soon for war. Too late for innocence," he whispered.
He walked to the center, flicking his monocle. A silver glyph bloomed on the floor — a ring of impossible geometry that had no start or end.
"Let them chase shadows. I'll give them a story."
He tapped his foot once.
Next Day — Classroom 2-A
Issei jolted awake from his nap.
"Dude!" he whispered to Matsuda. "I just saw Amon in my dream! He was building a tower out of mirrors and all the girls were in it, but, like, reflected backward. And then he turned into a…"
Matsuda blinked. "You too?!"
Across the room, several students seemed distant, dazed. One girl was sketching a spiral endlessly on her notebook. Another hummed a tune no one had taught her.
Amon sat two rows back, smiling at his notes. On the page: an architectural sketch of Kuoh Academy, but rewritten — bent, broken, warped. With one extra tower that didn't exist.
Yet.
Grigori Base – Monitoring Room
"Sir, we have something," said a crow-themed agent.
Azazel looked up from his desk.
"What now?"
The agent handed him a printout. A geometric anomaly centered precisely above Kuoh's bell tower. Expanding slowly. Like a bubble of compressed perception.
Azazel exhaled.
"So the game begins."
Occult Research Club — Secret Meeting
Rias stood at the chalkboard, diagramming intersecting ley lines around the school.
"Everything centers here," she said, pointing to the old bell tower. "No devil magic. No angelic traces. But somehow older. More primal."
Akeno leaned on her staff. "He doesn't want to conquer. He wants to rewrite."
"Rewrite what?"
"The rules," Kiba offered grimly.
Rias nodded. "We confront him tomorrow."
Final Scene — Mirror Room
Amon placed a piece on his private chessboard. It was neither black nor white.
Red.
He turned his eyes toward the moonlight filtering through his fake window.
"Come, Lady Gremory," he whispered.
"I wonder what you'll break first — my mask... or your belief that this world is safe."