Yuma stood before them, defenseless and exposed to her sister's glare. She took a deep, shuddering breath, the silence of the room pressing .
"I was the one who asked Luke to come to the park," Yuma began, her voice strained but gaining strength as she spoke. She didn't look at Riis, but kept her eyes fixed on Kyra.
"I noticed his energy was different, and I wanted to know why. He told me he died and was reborn as a devil. I told him about Lamina Mortis, how he killed our mother, and how he took you, Kyra."
Kyra closed her eyes, a muscle ticking in her jaw. Riis remained rigid, her ruby eyes blazing, waiting.
Yuma continued, recounting the full exchange—Lamina's appearance, his arrogant attempt to recruit Luke, his reference to Luke's Apostles' Eyes, and his offer to exchange Kyra for Luke's loyalty.
"When Luke refused to abandon me, Lamina attacked with his shadow puppets," Yuma explained. "Luke knew he couldn't win alone, so he used a full Multi-Promotion to the Queen state, which amplified all his abilities at once. He commanded me to take control of the darkness we defeated. That's how I formed my own shadows and daggers. He was only able to fight Lamina one-on-one by using a family fighting style called the Dynast Arts and adapting to Lamina's own moves."
Yuma paused, her chest rising and falling quickly. "Lamina was defeated when Luke used a technique he called Chess Space and created… the Crimson Knights. It was a massive projection of power. He beat Lamina with a single, precise strike and forced him to release Kyra and remove the curses on both of us. Lamina knew he was beaten, and he fled."
Silence reigned in the room. Riis's face was a study in cold, calculated fury.
"The Apostles' Eyes," Riis finally said, her voice a low, terrifying growl. "Lamina Mortis knew about them. Why? And how could a fallen angel know about one of the thirteen Divine Arsenals that has been missing for centuries?"
Kyra finally moved, stepping away from the hearth to stand beside her sister. "Because Lamina Mortis isn't just some random fallen angel, Riis-sama," Kyra stated, her voice heavy with resentment. "He is a direct descendant of Tamiel. And if Tamiel is involved, this isn't just a skirmish; it's a political move."
Akane and Riis exchanged a look of alarm. Tamiel was one of the original leaders of the Grigori, the faction of fallen angels.
"Our mother, Sariel, was one of the Seven Grigori," Kyra explained, addressing Riis directly. "She was powerful, but she committed the ultimate sin in their eyes: falling in love with a human. She sacrificed her position and power for him. Lamina Mortis, as Tamiel's heir, views our lineage as a stain to be cleansed. He wants to eliminate us, or, in his twisted view, co-opt our power."
Kyra's eyes, usually a calm red, hardened into a fierce glare. "Lamina didn't just want to kill Luke. He wanted Luke because of his unique power. The Apostles' Eyes are dangerous enough, but on a devil, they are a literal weapon of fate. Lamina saw Luke as an asset, a tool that, once corrupted, would guarantee his rise to the top of the Grigori. And Yuma and I were leverage."
Riis stood up, her composure completely gone. She began to pace, her movements sharp and agitated. "So, because my Pawn befriended the daughters of one of their founders, we are now in an open feud with Tamiel's successor. An open feud that could turn into a full-scale war."
"It gets worse," Kyra interjected, her gaze returning to the opulent furniture of the room. "Luke's technique, that Chess Space and the subsequent creation of the Crimson Knights… that is what nearly killed him. It wasn't external damage."
Riis stopped pacing, her crimson gaze locked on Kyra. "Explain."
"The eight pieces in his soul—his Eight-Pawn Pieces—they are the core anchors of his devil existence. They are what define his strength, his abilities, and ultimately, his soul. When he commanded them to undergo a Multi-Promotion and instantly create eight named, independent entities, he violated the natural law of their power structure. He forced a metaphysical strain—a conceptual tear—in his own soul's architecture. The pieces literally cracked," Kyra finished, her voice grave. "I used a conceptual patch, combining all your raw magical energy to seal the tear. But if he uses that power again before his soul fully stabilizes, he will die. Permanently."
The room fell silent once more, this time choked with a dread far deeper than fear of battle. Riis slumped back onto the velvet couch, her hand gripping the edge until her knuckles were white. The life of her Pawn, her closest ally, was hanging by a thread, and her immense demonic power couldn't touch the wound.
"He is a fool," Riis whispered, the anger replaced by a profound, agonizing worry. "A reckless, kind fool."
Akane, always the voice of tactical reason, broke the silence. "The current problem is two-fold: Luke is metaphysically unstable, and Lamina Mortis knows where we are and that he will be vulnerable. This house is too exposed, Kyra."
Kyra nodded in grim agreement. "We need a secure, hidden sanctuary. A place where Lamina would not dare to attack."
Riis immediately straightened up, her eyes flashing with renewed determination. "The Morningstar Headquarters. It's a space protected by a powerful cloaking spell and an anti-fallen angel ward. It's located in a dimension only accessible by my top generals. Lamina Mortis would need an army to breach it, and he knows I would be there waiting for him."
She looked at Yuma and Kyra. "Kyra, you stabilized him. You are the only one who truly understands the nature of his injury. You and Yuma will come with us. You are under my protection now, both as the daughters of Sariel and as allies who saved my servant's life. You will stay with him until he is stable."
Yuma's eyes widened, a flicker of hope and relief washing away the terror. "Riis-sama… thank you."
Riis gave a curt nod. She looked at Kyra, a fierce resolve settling over her face. "Kyra, I will leave Akane, Kotori, and Asuna here to prepare the dimensional gateway. I need you to stay with me and plan the next move. We must anticipate Lamina Mortis's next strategy. We are not just protecting Luke now; we are protecting our entire faction."
Kyra met Riis's gaze, a newfound respect shining in her red eyes. "Understood, Calamity Princess. Let's go."
Meanwhile, in Yuma's bedroom, Kai sat by Luke's bedside, watching his friend's pale, still face. Asuna, her eyes red from tears, gently laid a cool cloth on Luke's forehead, her hands glowing with a soft, residual healing light.
"He said he was going to tell me about my mother when we got home," Yuma whispered, standing in the doorway, watching the scene. She felt an overwhelming surge of guilt.
Kai didn't look away from Luke. "He will," Kai affirmed, his voice low and certain. "Luke keeps his promises. But first, he needs to survive the promises he makes to himself."
A heavy quiet settled over the room, broken only by the rustle of the luxurious curtains and Luke's shallow, slow breaths. Kai and Asuna exchanged a silent, worried glance.
The fate of their friend, and possibly their entire faction, now hinged on a fragile, conceptual patch holding his cracked soul together long enough to escape.
Riis and Kyra moved with a swift, synchronized intensity that belied their opposing factions. They retreated to the opulent but now tense living room. Kyra immediately went to a dark mahogany desk, pulling out a thick, leather-bound journal—a grimoire, its pages edged with silver—while Riis activated the communications orb on her wrist.
"Akane, Kotori, your first priority is to stabilize the area around the bed," Riis commanded into the orb, her voice low and sharp. "Akane, put up a temporary perimeter that detects dimensional displacement—a Grigori specialty. Kotori, you and Asuna will focus on establishing the primary defensive ward around Luke himself. Nothing comes within three feet of him."
"Understood, Riis-sama," Kotori's voice crackled through the orb.
Riis glanced at Kyra, who was rapidly sketching a complex geometric pattern on a blank page of the grimoire.
"I'm outlining the modifications we need for the transport portal," Kyra explained without looking up. "Luke's soul signature is conceptually fragile right now. A standard dimensional shift could sever the patch I placed, so we need to filter the portal energy. It requires a specific array, a blend of fallen-angel shielding and high-grade demonic stabilization runes. Riis, your faction's spatial magic is the strongest I know; I'll need your knowledge of its core matrices."
Riis nodded, pulling a chair to the desk. The air of animosity between the two powerful women was replaced by a grim, shared focus.
"The Morningstar Headquarters is accessed via an alpha matrix that utilizes the raw power of the Calamity Princess title," Riis stated, tapping a finger on the grimoire next to Kyra's sketch. "I can bypass the external key, but the internal dimensional turbulence will still be an issue. If we incorporate a Blood-Iron Binding into the frame of the portal, it will give us the necessary metaphysical rigidity, but you'll need a catalyst."
Kyra's deep red eyes met Riis's crimson gaze. "My own blood. It carries the bloodline of Sariel, a former Grigori. It will work perfectly as a dimensional sealant. We need to do this quickly. Lamina Mortis is arrogant, but he is not slow. He will realize the power he just faced was temporary, and he will likely return to finish the job while Luke is incapacitated."
In Yuma's lavish bedroom, the remaining allies worked with frantic, controlled energy.
Akane was already moving, her hands crackling with arcs of blue electricity. She did not cast a spell; she wove one. The lightning spread along the walls and window frames, forming a shimmering, nearly invisible web.
"Dimensional displacement perimeter is active," Akane muttered, her brow furrowed in concentration. "If Lamina tries to use a secondary teleportation spell, we'll know a second before he arrives."
Kotori, meanwhile, was working with the fragile Asuna. Kotori placed four small, intricately carved wooden figurines at the cardinal points around Luke's bed.
"We need your light, Asuna," Kotori instructed gently. "You have to channel your healing aura, but instead of focusing it into Luke, you must project it around him. It needs to act as a sheath—a layer of pure, stabilizing energy that shields the conceptual patch from the portal's vibrations."
Asuna, still shaken but determined, nodded fiercely. She knelt by the bedside, her hands hovering over Luke's unconscious form. A gentle, brilliant white light bloomed from her palms, not penetrating his skin but encasing his body in a soft, ethereal cocoon. The air around the bed immediately felt warmer, safer.
Kai stood watch at the door, his dual Knight Swords resting against the wall, his eyes scanning the room, ready to spring into action. He was their immovable guardian, his presence a silent promise of violence to anyone who dared to disturb his friend.
Yuma, seeing the focus and commitment of Luke's friends, finally allowed herself to believe they could win. She looked at her unconscious sister, Kyra, and then at Luke.
They were bound now, their fates permanently intertwined.
"I'll help," Yuma announced, walking toward the working group. She raised her hands, and a faint purple magic circle appeared. "I can weave a layer of darkness around Asuna's light. Light attracts the attention of the Grigori; darkness shields against it. It will make the cocoon invisible to external scrying."
Kotori's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she nodded approvingly. "Good thinking, Yuma."
Yuma poured her own power—the shadows she had wrestled control of in the fight—into the shield. The bright light from Asuna dimmed, enveloped in a soft, swirling layer of purple shadow, becoming a perfect, invisible shield around Luke.
A few minutes later, Riis and Kyra strode back into the room. Kyra's hand was bandaged, and Riis's eyes held a fierce, controlled focus.
"The core stabilizing matrix is ready," Riis declared. "Kyra's blood has sealed the dimensional filter. Akane, open the portal, use the coordinates for the Morningstar alpha matrix."
Akane nodded, raising her hands. A violent, churning sphere of crimson and black energy tore open in the center of the room. This was not a soft, shimmering magical door; it was a violent tear in space.
"The dimensional turbulence is minimal, but Luke must be moved now," Kyra urged, her eyes on the volatile gateway.
Kai immediately stepped forward and gently, carefully, lifted Luke into his arms. Luke remained limp, the crimson glow of the raw dimensional portal washing over his pale face.
"Yuma, Kyra, you go first," Riis commanded. "Then Asuna and Kotori. Kai, you and Akane will guard the rear and collapse the portal immediately after we pass through."
Yuma glanced at the chaos of the room, then at the ferocious, determined look on Riis's face. She felt a surge of loyalty—not to a queen, but to a fierce protector. She nodded and passed through the screaming dimensional tear with her sister.
Riis stood at the edge of the portal, looking back at her remaining servants and her incapacitated Pawn. A chilling calm settled over her.
"Let's go, everyone," she said, her voice a low, final whisper. "We're going home."
The dark-blue light of Lamina Mortis's retreat condensed into a flash, spitting him out onto a platform of obsidian rock overlooking a vast, swirling black ocean. This was a private dimensional pocket, a desolate sanctuary only known to a select few high-ranking Grigori.
Lamina stumbled, dropping to one knee as the pain from the fresh, deep cut on his back—Luke's final, perfect backstab—seared through him. He pressed a hand to the wound, his elegant suit now torn and stained with his own ethereal blue blood. His ten black wings flared out behind him in an uncontrolled, angry spasm before he forced them to recede.
"That insolent insect!" he snarled, his voice a low, chilling hiss that carried across the desolate plane. The lazy condescension was gone, replaced by a raw, cold fury.
He stood, drawing upon his remaining power to mend the worst of the damage. As the wound closed, he turned his focus from the pain to the combat he had just endured. His expression hardened into a grim certainty.
"The Dynast Arts," he murmured, the name a bitter taste on his tongue. "That boy's adaptability is terrifying. He took my own swordplay and turned it back on me."
But his lips curled into a slow, predatory smile as he recalled the surge of crimson power.
"However, even the most dangerous power can be fatally flawed," Lamina mused, his purple eyes narrowing as he analyzed the residual energy imprint of Luke's final move.
"That 'Chess Space' and the 'Crimson Knights'… such incredible strength, but it was unrefined, volatile. A forced, rapid evolution of his devil core. That raw power could only have come at the cost of catastrophic metaphysical damage."
Lamina laughed, a cruel, cold sound that echoed the truth of his observation. "He tore his own soul to win that fight. He is now crippled. The irony is delicious—the only thing that can kill Luke Akuma is Luke Akuma himself."
He knew the Calamity Princess, Riis, would be moving fast to stabilize her Pawn, likely relocating him to the deepest sanctuary of her faction. The chase was on.
"You have your little alliances, Luke Akuma," Lamina whispered, walking toward the edge of the obsidian platform, the wind whipping at his coat. "You have bought yourself a few hours of painful rest. But the Apostles' Eyes are too great a prize to surrender, and the blood of Sariel will not be allowed to escape me again."
He raised his hand over the black ocean. A sphere of pure, inky darkness materialized and then dissolved, spreading into the dimensional ether. It was a net of invisible, undetectable spies—not shadow puppets, but highly refined Grigori reconnaissance spirits designed to track the subtle energy signature of a major dimensional shift.
"Find them," Lamina commanded the spirits, his voice resonating with cold authority. "Find the tear in reality. Find the little lamb and her sister. And find my rival's little Pawn. When I return, I will claim what is rightfully mine, and the Morningstar Headquarters will become the tomb of the Calamity Princess and all her servants."
His purple eyes gleamed with vengeful promise, a hunter preparing for a long, necessary pursuit. He stood on the desolate rock, already planning the systematic dismantling of Riis's forces, starting with the helpless boy who had dared to stand in his way.
The violent, churning tear in reality—the portal—snapped shut, leaving a faint scent of ozone and burning darkness hanging in the air.
Riis, Kyra, and the others burst forth from the dimensional matrix, finding themselves in a space that was the antithesis of Yuma's opulent but exposed home.
They had arrived in the Morningstar Headquarters.
It wasn't a castle, but a massive, geometrically imposing structure carved from what looked like pure, dark obsidian. It was set high on a plateau in a perpetual twilight dimension. Above them, a stylized, crimson pentagram, the symbol of Riis's faction, glowed faintly in the sky, serving as both a light source and a colossal ward. Guards clad in black-and-crimson armor immediately materialized, bowing deeply to the Calamity Princess.
"The infirmary wing. Now!" Riis barked, her voice echoing off the obsidian walls.
Kai, still carrying the unconscious Luke, sprinted ahead, followed closely by Yuma and Asuna. Kyra and Riis, accompanied by Kotori and Akane, followed at a controlled, urgent pace. They moved through corridors lit by the same crimson light until they reached a secure, internal chamber marked with multiple powerful wards—a sanctuary designed to protect the most vulnerable assets.
Kai gently laid Luke onto a surgical bed carved from white crystal. Asuna and Kotori immediately began to work, their hands weaving a net of stabilizing magic over Luke's cocooned form. Yuma stood silently beside her sister, her gaze fixed on the boy who had risked everything for her.
Riis watched the scene for a beat, her lips pressed into a hard line, before turning her attention to the immediate political danger.
"Kyra. Akane. With me. We convene in the tactical room. The defenses must be brought to full alert," Riis commanded.
The tactical room was a minimalist space centered around a massive holographic projector that displayed the three-dimensional layout of the Headquarters' multiple defensive layers. Riis stood at the command terminal, her crimson aura flaring slightly as she activated the high-level wards. Akane stood ready, monitoring the energy output.
Kyra was the last to enter, her expression grave. She crossed her arms, her eyes scanning the holographic map, which shimmered with layers of protection: an external cloaking field, an anti-dimensional intrusion grid, and the core Grigori-repelling wards.
"We have about twelve hours before Lamina Mortis can reliably locate this dimension," Kyra stated, her voice devoid of emotion.
"He will be consumed by his failure, and he will be planning something systematic."
Riis turned, her crimson eyes unwavering. "Tell me his methodology, Kyra. Why is a descendant of Tamiel obsessed with this level of purity? This is beyond simple factional rivalry."
Kyra exhaled slowly. "The Grigori—the fallen angels—they are not a united army. They are a fractured society, bound by ancient, shared grievances. Lamina Mortis's ancestor, Tamiel, was not just a leader; he was an advocate for the faction's 'spiritual' purity. He preached that their fall was due to the taint of the human world and that any further mingling of bloodlines is a catastrophic insult to their heritage."
Kyra paused, her gaze becoming distant and cold. "Lamina has inherited that fanaticism, but twisted it into political ambition. He has risen quickly because he offers a terrifying simplicity: eliminate the 'tainted' bloodlines—those who have fallen for humans—and recruit those with unique, sacred power to elevate the Grigori above the other factions."
Akane chimed in, pointing at the holographic display. "So, he wants to prove his lineage and rise to power by eliminating Sariel's bloodline—Kyra and Yuma—and co-opting the Apostles' Eyes to guarantee the Grigori's supremacy. This is a direct challenge to the three other factions, Riis-sama."
Riis nodded grimly. "Exactly. He is using this as a pretext for a power grab. But the very thing that makes Lamina dangerous is his arrogance. He views this as a cleansing, not a war. He will not send a full army; he will send the most refined, elite force to achieve his goals quickly."
Kyra stepped forward, tapping a finger on a zone of the holographic map. "When he strikes, it will be a surgical assault. He will use his shadow creations to sow confusion, but his main strike will be personal. He's looking to retrieve his pawns and collect his prize. He will exploit the one weakness in your defenses he knows—that you will be focused on Luke."
Riis looked at Kyra, a flicker of appreciation in her eyes. "Your insight is invaluable, Kyra. You understand the mind of your tormentor better than anyone. From this moment forward, you and Yuma are no longer just targets; you are critical tactical assets. We will use your knowledge to turn his purification campaign into his grave."
The Calamity Princess straightened, her voice gaining a sharp, commanding edge. "Akane, put the inner circle on high alert. Double the anti-teleportation wards. Kotori and Asuna are to remain with Luke. We wait for him. And when he comes, he will find the entire power of the Morningstar faction waiting for him."
The alliance was sealed, not by an oath, but by a shared enemy and a desperate need to protect the unconscious Pawn. The hunt had begun, and the Headquarters had become the trap.
The atmosphere in the secured infirmary was one of anxious stillness. Luke lay utterly motionless on the crystal bed, still shielded by the invisible, stabilizing shroud woven from Asuna's light and Yuma's darkness.
Asuna, her usual effervescent energy subdued by worry, sat closest to him, her gaze never leaving his face. Kotori stood guard by the entrance, her expression a mix of weary vigilance and quiet fear, while Kai paced the perimeter, his anxiety a palpable, restless presence.
"He is stable," Kotori finally broke the silence, her voice hushed. "The conceptual patch is holding. But the damage was... terrifying."
Kai stopped pacing, his dark eyes shadowed with concern. "He went too far. I told him that power was unstable, but he always pushes his limits."
"He did it for us," Asuna whispered, gently adjusting the cool cloth on Luke's forehead.
"He did it for Yuma, to save her sister. That recklessness is also his kindness."
A few feet away, Yuma was cradling her sister, Kyra, who was now sleeping soundly, finally safe after years of terror. Yuma watched Luke, the weight of his sacrifice pressing down on her. She had been the catalyst for this disaster, and the gratitude she felt was overwhelming, eclipsing the guilt she'd carried for so long.
While the others kept their anxious vigil, Luke's consciousness drifted in an infinite, quiet expanse.
He found himself in the void again. It wasn't the pure, empty blackness he sometimes experienced, but a crushing, oppressive space. He saw a vortex of death—not just the cessation of life, but the concept of finality, an abyss of non-existence that tried to pull his fragile consciousness under.
So, here I am again, he thought, his mental voice calm despite the existential dread.
He kept floating around the place, observing the swirling colors of the void, when he saw the golden light again. It was the same beckoning light he sometimes glimpsed when he pushed his power. As he reached it, reality shattered and shifted.
He found himself standing on his Chess Space—a colossal platform of black and white squares suspended in a blue, starless void with white cracks of pure reality running through it. The board felt stable beneath his feet, a familiar anchor in the cosmic chaos.
He then noticed, on one side of the board, a dark, imposing gate. It had a malevolent aura emanating from it, and tendrils of purgatory flames licked at its iron frame. On the opposite side of the board, he noticed a gate of pure, sculpted gold and white. It radiated a majestic, comforting aura, and soft, heavenly light bathed its surroundings.
Around him, eight keys surrounded him, floating at eye level. Four were clad in crimson with a jagged, dragon-like design etched into their metal. The other four keys were golden with a flowing, heavenly design.
Luke then noticed his eight Pawn pieces had dissipated from his body and were lined up in front of him on the chessboard. They were all clad in the familiar crimson, but four of them—two in the front rank and two in the back—were producing a faint golden light at their cores.
He reached out. Two keys—one crimson and one golden—drew closer to him. He touched them slightly, and both keys detached themselves from the group, flying toward their respective gates. The crimson key slotted into a lock on the dark gate, and the golden key clicked into place on the white gate. Both gates, now with their first locks undone, pulsed faintly.
Six keys remained floating around him. Luke felt a surge of confirmation, a cold, distinct understanding of his current path.
The cosmic scene violently dissolved, and he felt a sudden, sharp, almost painful pressure—as if he'd been kicked out of his own dream—and his eyes snapped open.
Luke's eyes, now black again, blinked several times against the dim crimson light of the room. He realized the ceiling was different—it was high, vaulted, and made of the same dark, polished stone as the walls. He wasn't at home or anywhere familiar. He got up from the crystal bed, feeling a dull strain but otherwise intact. He looked down and saw he was no longer in his school uniform, but in a simple, oversized white cotton shirt and trousers.
Asuna walked in at that moment, carrying a small metal dish with water. She got so stunned seeing Luke standing that she dropped the dish. The sound of metal hitting the floor, followed by a splash, shattered the stillness.
"Luke!" Asuna gasped, the terror in her voice instantly replaced by immense relief. Unable to contain her emotions, she ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. "You idiot! You absolute idiot! I thought—you're awake! You scared us all half to death! Riis-sama was furious! I was so worried!"
Luke awkwardly patted her head, comforting her and gently calming her down.
Kotori and Kai walked in, drawn by the sound of the dropped dish.
"Luke!" Kai said, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face as he walked forward, clapping Luke gently on the shoulder. "Good to see you up, you massive fool."
Kotori gave him a curt but deeply caring greeting. "Don't ever do that again."
"Where are we?" Luke asked, looking around the highly secured chamber.
Kai's smile faded slightly. "The Morningstar Headquarters. Riis-sama's deepest sanctuary. You've been out for about eight hours."
"Eight hours," Luke repeated, processing the lost time. "Do my parents know I'm gone?"
Kai chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry. Riis-sama talked to them. They said it's fine if you're with her."
What did she do... Luke thought, a mix of resignation and relief washing over him. Whatever, I can't say I didn't expect this, but I really wish she wouldn't mind-bend them, though it does help since they don't ask questions. But my sister will be a different story. Never mind about it.
Luke then asked, his voice instantly becoming serious, "How long until Lamina Mortis gets here?"
Kai, Kotori, and Asuna all flinched, flustered that Luke had immediately grasped the gravity of the situation. They knew better than to treat him like an ordinary human.
Kotori walked to a side table and handed him a neatly folded set of the Seishu Academy uniform. "You should get dressed. Riis-sama will want to see you immediately."
Kotori and Asuna walked out to inform Riis, a new urgency in their movements. Kai headed for the door, but Luke stopped him.
"Kai," Luke asked, his eyes catching his friend's. "Have they killed each other yet?"
Kai paused, a wry smile returning to his face. "I don't think you need to worry," he replied, knowing Luke was referring to the newly formed and highly volatile alliance between Riis and Kyra. He then headed out, leaving Luke to dress.
Luke quickly changed into the familiar uniform, the fabric a comforting normalcy in the strange, secured room.
What was that in there, he thought to himself, zipping up his jacket. More importantly, four of my pieces did that. I hope it won't affect my Crimson Knights, but this does give me something to think about.
He focused for a moment, sensing the subtle, new connection to his power—a connection that offered both immense potential and catastrophic risk. With his curiosity piqued and his mission clear, he stepped out of the infirmary, ready to face the Calamity Princess and the fallen angel sisters.
Luke walked into the Tactical Room, his mind no longer focused on the strained alliance or the surrounding chaos, but on the cold, ancient knowledge that had violently surfaced in his mind.
Riis, Kyra, and Akane all turned to face him. Yuma, who had quietly followed Luke out of the infirmary, stood near the door, her eyes fixed on him.
"You're awake," Riis stated, her voice sharp. "Now, explain the knowledge you supposedly possess about Sariel's history."
Luke didn't hesitate. He walked past them toward the holographic map. His eyes, fixed on Kyra, held a disconcerting, distant clarity.
"Kyra said her mother, Sariel, was the Angel of Guidance," Luke began, his voice level and analytical, yet carrying the unnerving echo of ancient authority. "That is the accepted lie of the Grigori elders. The truth, recorded in the forbidden Book of Watchers, is that her true function was the Angel of the Stellar Rulers."
He paused, letting the title sink in. Riis's crimson eyes widened fractionally. Kyra stared, stunned. Yuma, standing by the door, felt a profound, heart-stopping terror mix with a sudden, overwhelming pride. Her mother was more than a fallen angel; she was a cosmic lawgiver.
"Sariel's sin was not merely falling in love with a human," Luke continued, gesturing toward the map. "Her true sacrilege was the Celestial Gift: she taught humanity the laws of the Moon's Path and Cosmic Motion. This is a secret that predates the flood—the key to commanding time and cosmic alignment."
He looked at the sisters. "Your bloodline acts as the living archive for the knowledge to access and wield the Keys of Time and Motion—a lost piece of the Divine Arsenal. Lamina doesn't want to kill you; he wants to capture you alive to extract that secret and claim cosmic power."
Luke pointed to the massive pentagram ward on the holographic map. "Lamina is seeking to reverse the cosmic law—the punishment for the sins of knowledge. He will bypass this defense, because he knows the ancient flaw in the very ward that was established by the original Archangels of Judgment."
The room was silent, choked by the weight of ancient truth.
"How... how could you possibly know this?" Kyra demanded, her voice a strained whisper, searching his face. "That information is sealed in texts only the highest ranks of the Grigori know!"
Luke felt a cold wave of exhaustion. The memory of the sheer agony the Apostles' Eyes had put him through—forcing him to absorb cosmic secrets through traumatic visions—crushed him for a moment. He quickly masked his distress.
He looked away from their gaze, staring at a distant wall. "I have... a lot of bad memories," he said, his voice dropping slightly, the authority replaced by a weary reluctance. "Memories of things that haven't happened yet, and things that should never have happened at all."
He glanced back, his eyes dark and evasive. "Answering your questions about how I know what I know will be difficult. It's hard to remember which facts are mine and which ones were just... put there."
Yuma immediately stepped forward, pulling her eyes away from the terrifying holographic map and looking at her friend.
"He doesn't have to tell you anything!" Yuma declared, her voice ringing with firm conviction. She faced Kyra and Riis, instinctively shielding Luke. "He just risked his life and broke his soul to save us from Lamina Mortis! You can tell he's in pain. He's telling the truth—he's always telling the truth, even if it's the kind of truth no one wants to hear."
Yuma's fierce loyalty was a powerful anchor in the room. Riis stared at the girl, realizing her fierce emotional defense was Luke's only current weakness—and greatest strength.
Riis finally broke the tension, her eyes settling back on Luke with a chilling seriousness. "Very well, Luke. We don't need to know the source. We need the solution. You have given us a window into Lamina's strategy. Tell us how to fix the flaw. Now."