April 21st, 2012, with Irumi, Morning.
The morning sun beat down on another section of the training field, its light glinting off the metallic scales of the colossal cyber-dragon, Fafnir. The air hummed with accumulated power, each pulse a deep, resonant thrum that vibrated in the chest of the Persona.
{BOOST!}
{BOOST!}
{BOOST!}
Three consecutive echoing announcements came from the Boosted Gear, each one causing the green jewel on Irumi Ito's gauntlet to flare with intense viridian light.
Waves of raw, multiplicative energy cascaded through her body, making her muscles thrum and her blood sing with potential. Her hair, stirred by the power leaking from her, floated as if caught in an unseen current.
Across from her, Fafnir stood like a mountain of living iron and playfulness, his metallic jaw fixed in a grotesque, perpetual smile. He clicked his claws together, creating sparks that sizzled in the grass.
"Fafnir, try to contain yourself," Kohryu advised, standing nearby in his serene human form—an old, wise man leaning on a gnarled walking stick. His voice was calm, but his eyes, ancient and knowing, missed nothing.
Grayfia Lucifuge observed from a respectful distance, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her primary focus was the legendary Boosted Gear, a power she had only read about in various texts describing the known holders of the Longinus. Yet, her sharp eyes kept flicking to Fafnir.
'He is the Fafnir Persona? His composition is... anomalous,' she thought, her mind already categorizing the possibilities. 'Lord Ajuka would be utterly fascinated. He would likely wish to analyze his molecular structure and energy signature for decades.'
"Here I come, Fafnir!" Irumi shouted, her voice tight with concentration and excitement. She lowered her head and charged, her fist pulled back, aiming a mighty blow at the dragon's shin.
'Partner! Not like this!' Ddraig's voice protested in her mind, a note of exasperation clear even through their mental link.
But Irumi, riding the high of three consecutive Boosts, didn't listen. She put all her enhanced strength into a single, decisive punch.
CLANG!
The sound was that of a sledgehammer hitting a bank vault. The impact shuddered up Irumi's arm, making her teeth rattle, but Fafnir's scale didn't even acquire a scratch.
The dragon slowly lowered his enormous head, his single red eye focusing on the tiny girl before him.
"Magiiician," he screeched, his voice a grating combination of metal and mockery. "You can't resolve fights with just puncheees."
"Oh, this was actually rather smart of you, Fafnir," Kohryu joked, a small smile touching his lips as he ambled closer.
'Who is that man, truly?' Grayfia wondered, her analytical mind working. His energy was vast and serene, yet completely alien to any devil, angel, or fallen angel or any kind if mythological being she had ever seen.
"Veryyy fun," Fafnir shrieked, apparently pleased with himself.
'I told you, partner,' Ddraig sighed as the glowing red energy around Irumi's gauntlet faded, the Boosted Gear power dissipating. 'You must try a different approach. Brute force alone is the weapon of a fool.'
Irumi growled in frustration, shaking her stinging hand. "What should I do then? This is a gauntlet! Gauntlets are made for throwing punches!" she protested, thrusting the red metallic artifact towards Kohryu as if it were evidence in a trial.
"I am quite sure it has other abilities. Ddraig?" Kohryu asked, turning his attention to the jewel.
The gem on the Boosted Gear glowed softly. "It does. The power stored inside the gauntlet can be transferred to another or... shot as a projectile," the Welsh Dragon explained.
Irumi's face lit up as if someone had switched on a bulb. "Oh! I have an idea!" she exclaimed, her frustration instantly replaced by eager innovation. She turned to the giant cyber-dragon, clasping her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Fafnir, can you be my test subject? Pretty please?"
"Of couurse, Magiiiician," Fafnir screeched amiably, settling his bulk down into a more comfortable position, looking for all the world like a patient, monstrous punching bag.
"They seem to be having... fun," Grayfia remarked to herself, a rare, almost imperceptible sigh escaping her lips.
"How is Irumi doing?"
Grayfia turned to see Makoto approaching, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the scene.
"She just mentioned having an idea," Grayfia reported, her voice neutral. "But it seems she does not yet fully comprehend the mechanics of the Boosted Gear."
Makoto nodded, watching as Irumi now pointed her gauntlet at Fafnir like a child aiming a toy pistol.
"Fafnir and Kohryu are here with her. I should probably go check on Rias," he said, a faint undercurrent of concern in his voice that the ever-perceptive Grayfia did not miss.
"Who is with the Young Lady?" she asked.
"Lucifer," Makoto answered simply, already turning to leave.
The name hit Grayfia like a physical blow. "What do you mean?" she asked, her composure cracking for a microsecond.
Instead of answering, Makoto broke into a run, heading back towards the manor. "Stay here, Grayfia," he called over his shoulder. "It's better if I go alone."
Grayfia stopped herself from following, a cold dread settling in her stomach. 'Lucifer... the original?' The implications were terrifying. 'If the Great King faction were to learn of his existence... the balance of power would shatter. I must inform Sirzechs immediately.... a new Civil War would be catastrophic. Or if the Old Satan Faction cames to know of this...'
A visceral chill ran down her spine. She had met the Lucifer of her world—or at least, what remained of his legend. A being of pure, calculating evil, a madman whose pride created an entire race for the purposes of revenge and dominion. The thought of that name attached to a tangible power, here and now, was a threat beyond anything else.
Meanwhile, oblivious to the brewing storm, Irumi was deep in thought. 'Senpai Himejima said magic is based on one's imagination, but I don't have enough magic power of my own. Ddraig, can I use the Boosted Gear to make up for that?' she asked her partner.
'In theory, yes,' Ddraig replied. 'You could use the accumulated energy to fuel a spell. However, your magical reserves are currently so low that it would require an excessive number of Boosts and a great deal of time to generate enough power for anything significant.'
Irumi frowned, but her determination didn't waver. She focused again, pointing her gauntlet at the patiently waiting Fafnir. 'Ddraig, can you Boost me?' she asked.
{BOOST!}
The gauntlet flared once more. A single pulse of power flowed into her, but it felt like a drop in an ocean.
"Magiiician, time is our enemyy," Fafnir commented, idly using a claw to pick at his formidable iron teeth. He was the picture of boredom.
"Yes! I'm almost ready!" Irumi insisted, squeezing her eyes shut in concentration. She imagined the energy not as a fist, but as a bullet. A compressed sphere of pure force. She aimed her gauntlet like a gun, her index finger extended along the top.
"Come on, Ddraig, do it!" she shouted.
The jewel on the Boosted Gear glowed brightly.
{SHOT!}
A sphere of red energy, about the size of a baseball, erupted from the gauntlet. It shot across the field with a sharp crack, trailing a faint crimson haze. It was unrefined, its form wobbly, but it was a projectile nonetheless.
Fafnir didn't move to avoid it. Instead, he simply lowered his head and opened his jaw, catching the energy sphere in his mouth as if it were a tasty morsel. He snapped his jaws shut with a sound of grinding metal.
"Not baad, Magiiiician," he screeched after a moment, smacking his lips theatrically. "I prefer foood more spicyy, tho."
'He... ate it?' Grayfia thought, her professional detachment returning as she analyzed the result. 'That attack was... disappointingly weak. It wouldn't even scratch a Middle-Class devil. Still, the underlying concept isn't without merit.'
She mentally noted that against the weakest members of Riser's peerage, such an attack might at least be a distraction or even a useful attack.
"Hey! Fafnir! You can't just eat my attack!" Irumi complained, stomping her foot in frustration.
"Excuse him," Kohryu said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "He gets peckish when he's bored."
The Huanglong walked over to Irumi, his stick tapping softly on the grass. "That was a good first attempt. The form was unstable, and the power was negligible, but the idea is sound." He pointed his stick at her gauntlet.
"Now, try again. Use more Boosts first, store more power, and then try to shoot again. We need to discover your current limit for energy storage and projection. Once we know that, we can begin working on concentration—focusing that same amount of power into a smaller, denser, more destructive projectile."
Irumi nodded, her initial frustration replaced by renewed purpose. She took a deep breath, raised her gauntlet, and focused. This was no longer just about punching. This was about learning a new language of power.
{BOOST!} the Boosted Gear announced, and the field once again began to hum with accumulating energy.