The week that followed the Familiar Summoning Ceremony settled into a bizarre, exhausting rhythm for Noir Sullivan. His mornings were dominated by the crushing need to maintain the "Lord of the Abyss" persona, his internal focus constantly fighting the spiritual civil war. His afternoons, however, were an unexpected, chaotic reprieve spent playing "house" and other absurd games with Valac Clara and the perpetually mortified Asmodeus Alice.
It was Friday, and Noir was still marveling at the fact that he was surviving high school through sheer, terrified acting and the presence of two summoned gods hiding in his soul. He had a few minutes before he was due to meet Clara and Asmodeus near the library.
As he walked, he heard the faint, tuneless humming that usually signaled Clara's imminent arrival. But this time, the humming stopped short.
Noir paused behind a decorative column, curious.
Clara was standing near a stairwell, surrounded by a group of older, rough-looking demon students who were leaning against the stone steps. Clara's posture was subdued, her usual manic energy dimmed.
"Come on, Clara, don't be stingy," one of the taller demons sneered, holding out a grubby hand. "It's been a long day. If we're gonna bother hanging out with your noisy self, the least you can do is conjure us up some of those imported human sodas. The ones with the bubbles."
"Oh! The fizzy ones!" Clara chirped, regaining a hint of her usual cheer. She reached into her pockets, her hands already producing a six-pack of brightly colored cans. "Here you go! We were just playing hide-and-seek, but I can get you drinks now!"
Another demon snatched the cans. "Hide-and-seek? Pathetic. Go fetch us some rare mana gems, the kind that taste like sulfur. Do that, and maybe we'll sit next to you at lunch next week."
Clara's bright eyes flickered. "Lunch? Okay! I'll be right back! I think I saw some shiny rocks near Sensei Kalego's office!"
She started to bound away, but the bully grabbed her arm roughly. "Don't rush off, friend. Just remember why we talk to you. You're a noisy distraction, but your pockets are useful. Don't forget the deal."
Clara didn't struggle. She simply nodded, her head bowed low, and hurried away from them toward the library.
Noir remained hidden, waiting for the bullies to disperse. As they sauntered off, laughing and cracking open the human sodas, Noir moved to follow Clara. He caught up to her just as she was rounding a corner, her steps quick and her usual humming still absent.
"Clara?" Noir called out softly.
She jumped, startled, and immediately forced a bright, wide smile. "Noir! You're early! I was just getting you the new fantasy book you said you liked!"
"Clara," Noir repeated, walking beside her. "You don't have to get me anything. I saw you back there, by the stairs."
Clara's forced smile instantly faltered. She dropped her gaze to the floor.
"Oh," she whispered, her hands nervously clutching the hem of her mismatched skirt.
They walked in silence for a long moment, the only sound the faint rustle of her ill-fitting uniform.
Then, in a quiet voice that was devoid of her usual, overwhelming speed, Clara confessed the truth.
"It's okay, Noir," she said, her voice small. "I know why people play with me. I'm loud, and I'm clumsy, and I'm bad at sitting still. The only thing I'm good at is my magic. If I don't give people stuff, they don't bother. Without the snacks and the toys, people wouldn't bother playing with me. It's just how it is."
Noir felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest—a profound empathy that cut through the fear and the exhaustion of his own facade. He knew exactly what it felt like to believe you were utterly worthless and only tolerated for your utility. He had lived that life, serving a cruel master on a fishing boat, believing his only value was in his labor and his silence.
They found Asmodeus waiting at their usual spot, looking annoyed but dutiful. The moment Clara saw Noir, all the sadness vanished, replaced by an amplified, frantic burst of her chaotic energy.
"Noir! You're here! Have it all!" she cried, running straight to him and thrusting both hands deep into her pockets.
In a split second, she had pulled out an overwhelming cascade of items: a glittering tiara, a steaming mug of cocoa, a full roast chicken, a video game console, a giant lollipop, and a sheaf of perfectly crisp demon dollar bills.
She dropped them all in a pile at his feet, ignoring the disgusted look on Asmodeus's face.
"You can have them all! I'll give you anything you want! I can get you a new carriage! I can make you a bigger horn! So please, please, keep playing with me!" she begged, her eyes wide and wet.
Noir stared at the pile of random, valuable goods. This was not the gesture of a friend; this was a desperate bribe.
"Clara, stop," Noir said, his voice firm. He used the tone he usually reserved for his "Lord of the Abyss" act, but this time, it was laced with genuine, urgent distress.
He pushed the pile of treasures gently away with his foot. "I don't want any of this. I don't want your stuff. I want you to stop doing this."
Clara froze, her manic energy dissolving instantly. Her mouth trembled, and her eyes, still wet from her previous confession, widened in absolute, heart-shattering panic.
"No… no, no, no," she whispered, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Tears welled up and began streaming down her face, staining her cheeks. She was utterly distraught.
"The snacks! The snacks are the nuisance fee! It's the price! If you don't take the price, you're leaving!" she wailed, her voice cracking with pure misery. "I know I'm loud and I'm clumsy, but I have to pay! You're bored of me now! You're going to leave me like everyone else! You won't play with me tomorrow!"
Clara sank to her knees amidst the pile of discarded treasures, sobbing uncontrollably, her entire body shaking with the conviction that her only worth had just been rejected.
Asmodeus, witnessing the sudden emotional breakdown, was confused but still dutiful. "My Lord, the child is clearly unstable! Perhaps a quick, dismissive nod will satisfy her? We have a rigorous schedule!"
But Noir didn't hear Asmodeus. He didn't see the clumsy demon student. He saw the terrified child he once was—the boy who thought the only reason he was alive was to haul fish for a cruel master. He saw the pain of forced utility, the crushing loneliness, and the indignity of having to pay for basic human connection.
The exhaustion, the constant fear of his persona, and the raw, empathetic pain for Clara all converged. The seals around his mana core—the ones he had so diligently guarded—snapped under the force of his genuine, blinding fury.
It wasn't the slow, controlled leakage of his previous acts. It was an involuntary, powerful eruption.
The Demonic Chaos and the Seraphim Order were momentarily unleashed, not in a directed blast, but in a raw, overwhelming surge of emotional magic.
A profound, sickening wave of gravity slammed into the ground, causing the stone tiles beneath Noir's feet to visibly crack and buckle. The obsidian horn pulsed with dark, furious light. Simultaneously, an icy, sharp, golden light erupted around him, accompanied by a soundless, terrifying pressure that felt like being judged by an infinite, unforgiving presence.
Noir's crimson eyes burned, fixed not on the weeping Clara, but on the invisible system that had forced her to believe she had to pay for friendship.
"NO!" Noir roared, the sound echoing through the hallway, vibrating with the raw, untamed power of his being.
His voice was not the calculated drawl of the Lord of the Abyss; it was the unfiltered, primal roar of the Primordial Demon, fueled by righteous Seraphim anger.
"You don't buy friendship, and you don't pay a fee!" Noir thundered, completely dropping all pretense. "You never have to pay! I am not leaving you! And if I catch anyone demanding anything from you again, I will burn the entire mountain down around their pathetic souls!"
Asmodeus Alice gasped, falling back a step, utterly staggered by the sheer, unrestrained power and fury of his master. This was not the calculating, silent Lord; this was the genuine, world-shaking anger of a higher power.
Clara, kneeling amidst the scattered gifts, looked up, her tears momentarily forgotten, staring at the terrifying, light-and-shadow-shrouded figure of her new friend.