The air above Kuoh trembled subtly, a quiet ripple that only those with keen supernatural senses could perceive. It was the type of sensation that hinted at more than a casual disturbance—it was the signature of something that did not belong to this world.
In the training grounds beneath the Hyoudou residence, Vali stood silent, staring at his palm. Ever since the encounter with that shadowy Amon manifestation, his instincts had been on edge. The sensation of being "observed" hadn't vanished—it had intensified.
"So, it begins," Azazel muttered under his breath, standing at the monitor, arms crossed. "He's probing Vali now. Faster than I thought. Too fast…"
Xenovia glanced at him from across the room. "You expected this?"
"I expected Amon to manipulate from behind the scenes a while longer. But now, he's pushing forward. Vali is a valuable piece—and not just because of Albion."
Vali clenched his fists. "He wants me for something. I could feel it. Not just curiosity—there was intent."
"Your soul, your potential, your bloodline—there are many reasons a being like Amon would want you," Azazel replied. "But if he's acting faster, then we're running out of time."
Meanwhile, in the Occult Research Clubroom, Rias was pacing. Issei watched her in silence, sensing the tension rolling off her in waves. Since the Rating Game, her instincts had been alert. Riser's behavior, his unnatural surge of power—it had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.
"Issei," she said suddenly, turning to face him. "Do you think... Riser was in control during that final moment?"
Issei hesitated. "He acted strange. But... he didn't seem possessed. Just—different. Like something was using his emotions to fuel him."
Akeno spoke from her seat. "And that's what makes it dangerous. Because we couldn't tell."
Koneko added, "That's what makes Amon different from normal enemies. He doesn't take over like a devil. He blends."
Rias exhaled, then turned to her desk and picked up a sealed letter bearing the insignia of the Church. "This came today. An official Vatican response. They've confirmed Amon's presence... and that he's something they've feared for centuries."
Issei blinked. "Wait, centuries?"
Rias nodded. "According to their ancient archives, he's listed as a 'Taboo Born of Knowledge,' supposedly an entity that never should've existed. The Church calls him a conceptual error, a corruption of divine systems."
"So not a devil. Not an angel. Not a god," Issei muttered. "Then what is he?"
Azazel's voice rang out from the communicator. "He's a parasite of possibility. And right now, he's looking at Vali as his next stepping stone."
—
Vali stood alone on a hill near the outskirts of town, staring out at the moonlit trees. Albion's voice echoed in his mind.
{You feel it too, don't you? The gaze.}
"I've lived my life being hunted by gods and monsters. This one... feels like both."
A faint chill passed through the air. For a moment, Vali thought it was the wind—until the shadows twisted, and a figure emerged.
He wore the face of no one, cloaked in a shifting coat of feathers and fragments of time. Amon's presence was more suggestion than substance, but Vali felt it press against his soul.
"I've watched you," Amon said, voice calm but heavy. "A son of Lucifer, destined for greatness... but trapped in a narrative written by others."
Vali tensed, power rising. "You speak like a puppeteer."
"I am merely a composer. I see symphonies where others hear noise. You, Vali, are a note that refuses to harmonize. That is beautiful."
Vali narrowed his eyes. "You came here to flatter me?"
"I came to offer. Possibility. I can unchain your destiny. Free you from the burdens of lineage. Show you what you can truly become."
"And the price?"
Amon's smile was slow and too wide. "A glimpse of your future. A taste of truth."
In a flash, the world warped.
Vali found himself standing in a different landscape—one where the sky bled golden light and cities floated in pieces. He stood atop a pillar, watching himself fight... something. A reflection? A god? It wasn't clear.
Amon's voice echoed around him. "In this reality, you break through the narrative. You defeat both gods and devils. You become something greater."
Then the scene shattered.
Vali returned to the hill, gasping. He dropped to one knee, Albion's energy reasserting itself.
{He's trying to plant something. Resist.}
Vali's vision flickered. He felt something clawing into his spiritual circuits.
"No."
He roared, releasing an explosive surge of demonic and draconic power. The nearby trees were reduced to splinters. Amon's form scattered into a thousand birds of ink.
"Very good," Amon's whisper echoed. "Resistance proves worth. I will return, Vali. Your fate is too enticing to ignore."
As the echo faded, Vali fell forward, sweating.
Azazel arrived moments later in a flash of light, his spear ready, eyes sharp.
"You're late," Vali muttered.
"I expected him to act through others," Azazel replied grimly. "Not to appear to you directly. Are you okay?"
"He didn't take control," Vali said. "But he tried something. A vision. And he left... something behind."
Azazel frowned. "We'll run a deep scan. I'm not taking chances. You're too important to lose."
Vali glanced at the horizon. "He's escalating."
Azazel nodded. "And we'll respond."
—
Back in the Underworld, deep in a hidden chamber lined with sigils of forgotten knowledge, Amon leaned back upon a throne of black crystal.
Vali had resisted.
Interesting.
The draconic boy was more than just potential. He was a wedge—something that could split the delicate balance between the factions.
"Too early to possess," Amon mused aloud, tapping a long finger against his temple. "But not too early to tempt. A second parasite? No. Not yet."
He looked toward a mirror that rippled with Rias's reflection.
"She prepares for the Church's envoy. And he... Issei... still hasn't realized the pattern."
Behind Amon, fragments of sequences hovered—glowing runes of corruption and paradox. The Sequence of Error pulsed faintly, incomplete but active.
"Soon, Issei. Very soon... I will unwrite your story."
And in the depths of his throne, something ancient stirred.