"Ah, a pleasure to meet you. I am Shemhaza, Vice-Governor of Grigori."
"The pleasure is mine. I'm Souma Kuramoto, a member of the Grey Wizards. I look forward to working with you."
"I've heard much about you from Azazel. Moving into a new environment is always a shock; did you sleep well last night? If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you. I think I was so exhausted that I passed out the moment my head hit the pillow."
The next morning, I finished my preparations and followed Barakiel through the research facility. We were heading to a different sector than yesterday, moving through a restricted route reserved for high-ranking officials. I didn't run into a single soul, which was a massive relief. Waiting for us behind a set of heavy doors were Teacher Azazel and a man with silver hair I hadn't met yet.
He had neatly trimmed silver hair and wore a refined, cool-toned outfit. He radiated an aura of professionalism that was the polar opposite of Azazel's "eccentric genius" vibe. Currently dressed in a white lab coat similar to Azazel's, he looked like the kind of intellectual professor that made you want to stand up a little straighter just being in his presence. When he noticed us, he offered a gentle, welcoming smile. I felt the tension finally drain out of my shoulders.
It was normal. A perfectly normal, polite introduction. I was so moved by the lack of insanity that I felt a stray tear prick at my eye. Thank goodness. I had started to worry that every first meeting with a Fallen Angel leader was destined to be a disaster. My sudden emotional reaction clearly confused Shemhaza, however.
"Um... is something wrong?"
"No, sorry. I'm just... moved. I'm so happy to have a normal greeting with a Fallen Angel that I'm almost crying with joy..."
"...Azazel, Barakiel. A word. In the hall. Now."
"Wait, Shemhaza! The 'creepy-hand-wringing' thing was stopped by Mephisto, so that shouldn't count!" Azazel protested.
"And the 'iron ball excitement' was only because the prototype was such a masterpiece..." Barakiel added, his stoic voice wavering.
"Hall. Now."
""Yes, sir...""
I watched the Governor and the Lightning Leader get dragged away for a lecture, deeply impressed by the Vice-Governor's place in the hierarchy. It was a different kind of "smiling pressure" than Lord Mephisto's. I suppose you need someone that serious to keep Grigori running. Without him, Azazel would likely be highly productive but headed in a completely nonsensical direction.
+++
Eventually, the three returned. Azazel walked up and started aggressively ruffling my hair. I swatted his hand away—it wasn't my fault he got scolded for his own behavior.
"You seem quite close with Azazel," Shemhaza noted with a chuckle.
"Well, he's been my teacher for about a year. Am I being too informal?"
"No, don't worry about it. It's just rare to see."
"To most humans, Fallen Angels are objects of terror or loathing," Barakiel explained. "Especially Azazel, the Governor mentioned in myths. Few people, even among our own kind, treat him with such natural ease."
I nodded. I sometimes forgot that Azazel was a legendary figure. I'd never dream of being this casual with Lord Mephisto, but Azazel's personality just made it impossible to stay formal. If you don't push back against him, he'll just steamroll you. To me, the Fallen Angels weren't "evil"—they were "eccentric."
"You trust him, even though he has the power to kill you in a heartbeat?" Shemhaza asked, his eyes growing serious.
"I know I'm weak," I replied. "If he—or anyone else I've met—wanted me dead, I'd have been gone a long time ago. If I spent every second worrying about that, I'd never get anything done. It's too much work to be that paranoid."
It was a naive outlook, but practical. I chose to trust the people I decided were worth it. Besides, I have a partner with a built-in "moral compass" that alerts me to malice.
"I appreciate the trust, Kanata," Azazel said, looking at my chest for a moment before shaking his head. "But I am the leader of an organization. Depending on the era and the political climate, there may come a day where I have to be your enemy for the sake of my people. Trust is important, but never lose your skepticism."
"Why are you saying that after I just said I trust you?" I grumbled.
"Because..." He trailed off, an unreadable emotion crossing his face. I didn't quite understand it, but I took his advice to heart.
+++
"Alright, let's get to the research," Azazel said, shifting the mood. "We're going to test your ability to modify rituals using Holy Light."
Unlike Magic or Mana, Holy Light is difficult to transform into other substances. This makes "wizard-type" attackers rare among Angels; most prefer to shape the light into arrows or spears for direct combat. High-ranking Angels often coat themselves in Holy Light as an all-in-one offense and defense.
"Now," Azazel said, "we need to see where your Sacred Gear stands. If your partner is heavily influenced by the System, it might refuse to tamper with angelic rituals."
I doubted that. My partner knew that the God of the Bible was dead because I knew it. Shemhaza set up a standard defensive barrier used by lower-ranking Angels. I summoned my spear and focused.
"Script Rewrite."
The ability activated without a hint of resistance. In fact, it was easier than hacking magic. I didn't have to fight to find the path; the power flowed through the ritual like it was home. In seconds, the barrier was mine.
"...That was incredibly efficient," Shemhaza said, clearly surprised.
"It felt so natural," I admitted. "There was almost no resistance compared to when I work with Mana or Magic. It mixed with my aura perfectly."
"I see," Azazel muttered. "Your aura is becoming identical to the spear's divine aura. Since the spear and Holy Light share the same origin, the affinity is perfect. Your partner is effectively providing you a master key to the System's language."
"Wait... so you're saying...?"
"The Spear is carrying you. Again."
"Dammit! I knew it would be something like that!"
My "talent" was just my partner's overprotectiveness again. But it opened up a terrifying tactical possibility.
"Teacher," I realized, "I don't have to be the one to hit them. I can use Separation. I can give a fragment of my spear to someone faster and stronger. They hit the enemy, and I perform the analysis from a safe distance through the link."
Azazel blinked, then grinned. "You absolute devil. You've been accidentally creating a perfect support-type Sacred Gear this whole time, haven't you?"
+++
After the theory was done, it was time for the "fun" part.
"Alright, next is combat data. You're sparring with Barakiel."
"Wait! Why the jump to a final boss?! I just got here!"
"The best way to raise a Gear's quality is extreme combat experience," Azazel said with a wicked grin. "Most users would die, but you have the best mentors in the world. Why waste the opportunity?"
I couldn't argue. If I wanted to be useful, I had to be able to survive. I looked at Barakiel, who was standing stoically.
"Barakiel... please be gentle," I begged.
"...I understand. You are very honest, boy."
That evening, after a grueling session of being blown away by holy lightning, I sat down to a traditional Japanese dinner Shemhaza had specially prepared for me. He and Barakiel were surprisingly easy to talk to once the business was done. It turns out even legendary Fallen Angels can get passionate about a good bowl of rice.
***
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