The air of the Underworld was thick and warm, smelling of ozone, rare flowers, and magic ancient as the world itself. A purple sky, where golden clouds floated lazily, stretched over the boundless domains of the Gremory clan. Here, far from the bustle of the human world, on a training ground surrounded by crimson rocks, her team honed their skills. Rias Gremory watched them from the veranda of the ancestral mansion, her blue-green eyes thoughtful.
Her team had changed. It was visible in every movement.
In the center of the training ground, an impressive sparring match unfolded. Kiba, her first Knight, moved with elegant speed, his demonic swords creating a whirlwind of steel. Against him, clutching the mighty Durandal, stood Xenovia. Her style was the complete opposite—direct, powerful, crushing blows, each carrying colossal holy might. Their blades clashed with a deafening ring, scattering showers of sparks. Xenovia, her new Knight, was quickly adapting to the role of a demon but hadn't lost her fanatical faith in strength. She learned speed and tactics from Kiba, while he, in turn, got used to opposing raw, unbending power like that radiating from her holy sword.
A bit further away, Issei, her sweet, clumsy, but so devoted Pawn, struggled to dodge the stream of flame spewed by the legendary dragon Tannin. The training was brutal, but Issei held on. His movements became more confident, and his shouts of "Boost!" sounded not panicked, but stubborn. "He has a core, Rias," Tannin told her yesterday. "Surprising endurance for a rookie."
Akeno and Koneko were working on a combination. Akeno rained streams of holy lightning on targets from the air, while Koneko, using her incredible strength and the rudiments of Senjutsu, created fissures in the ground, preventing the enemy from escaping. Their teamwork had reached a new level.
Asia stood at the edge of the field, her hands clasped in prayer, her face focused. She wasn't just waiting for the wounded. Under Akeno's guidance, she was learning to use her power differently. She tried to concentrate Twilight Healing not on wounds, but on creating small, shimmering shields of pure light. They were weak and dissipated quickly for now, but Asia's very desire to become not just a healer but a protector filled Rias with pride.
They had all become stronger. And yet, she felt no peace. On the contrary, her anxiety only grew. The reason was simple—his absence. His strange, almost frightened refusal to come with them, his withdrawal in recent days... Something was wrong. What "business" could someone who seemed bored by the very existence of this world have? What could disturb a being capable of playfully defeating a Cadre of Fallen Angels?
"What are you thinking about, my dear little sister?"
A soft, familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Rias turned. Beside her, leaning against the veranda railing, stood her brother, Sirzechs Lucifer. He was in a simple but elegant suit, his crimson hair gently ruffled by the warm wind.
"Brother! I didn't hear you approach."
"You were far away," he smiled his warm, disarming smile. "Watching your fledglings? They're making great progress. I see your new Knight, the Durandal wielder, has fit well into the team. A bold move, Rias."
"Xenovia is strong and loyal," Rias nodded. "She will become a pillar of our clan."
"I don't doubt it," Sirzechs agreed. "Shall we walk?"
They walked along a path strewn with violet gravel, past fountains spewing glowing water, and trees with silvery foliage. For a while, they walked in silence.
"How is your independent ally?" Sirzechs asked casually, finally voicing the name on the tip of Rias's tongue. "Izayoi Jin. I heard he decided not to join you this time."
Rias's heart skipped a beat.
"He has... his own business in the human world," she answered evasively. "He's always been on his own."
"I know," Sirzechs nodded, and his smile became slightly less carefree. "But it is his nature that worries me. Rias, I want you to be very careful with him."
She looked at her brother in surprise.
"Careful? Why?"
"The thing is, Rias..." Sirzechs stopped and turned to her. His gaze became serious. "...that a year ago, a person named Izayoi Jin... did not exist."
Rias froze. Her brother's words sounded like a bolt from the blue.
"What... what do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said," his voice was quiet but firm. "Our best agents checked everything. We pulled all archives in the human world and the Underworld. The result is zero. No birth certificate. No school records. No family. No traces whatsoever. A person named Izayoi Jin was not in this world until the moment he appeared at Kuoh Academy."
"But... that's impossible!" Rias whispered, feeling her hands go cold. "Could his past have been erased by magic?"
"We checked. No traces of magic of that level," Sirzechs shook his head. "The only thing confirming his existence is the transfer documents that arrived at the Academy. Perfectly executed, flawless. And you know what's most disturbing? These documents passed verification. Even Sona, with all her pedantry, found not a single flaw in them."
He paused, letting his sister process what she heard.
"This means that he... or whatever protects him... is capable of deceiving the most reliable systems of our world as if they didn't exist. This is an anomaly of a completely different order."
Her brother's last words hit Rias with renewed force. She knew Sona. Knew her meticulousness. The thought wasn't that Sona was hiding something. But that it hadn't aroused her suspicion. It was beyond comprehension.
A ghost. A man without a past, appearing out of nowhere.
Sirzechs saw the confusion on her face. He stepped closer and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. His gaze was serious, but there was no fear in it—only deep concern for his sister.
"I'm not saying he's an enemy, Rias. By all accounts, he has helped you more than once. But he is a riddle with no answers. And such riddles can be dangerous. I just want you to be careful. Promise me that."
Rias looked at the serene landscape of the Underworld. But now this idyll seemed fragile, illusory.
Her desire to understand him was replaced by a new, cold feeling. Wariness. Fear of the unknown, which was much closer and more dangerous than she thought.
...
Several days passed. A strange, almost silent routine settled in the huge mansion. In the morning, Jin went on his aimless walks, leaving the two pets alone. Kuro, his faithful familiar, put on a real comedy show. If the black cat (which Jin still hadn't named) tried to approach the master, Kuro would immediately jump onto his shoulder and cast a withering glare at her. If Jin petted the cat, the rabbit would demonstratively turn away, showing extreme disapproval with his entire being.
Jin no longer paid attention to this jealousy. His thoughts were occupied with something else. The dream about the "Doll" and the voice of the "Ghost" wouldn't leave his head. The feeling that he didn't control his own essence was irritating. The power slumbering within demanded release.
After lunch, as usual, he headed out of town, to an abandoned wasteland by the river—a place where he didn't have to hold back. Kuroka trailed him, then hid in the bushes, watching.
She expected to see him crushing rocks, but Jin did something else. He approached the bank of the fast, full-flowing river. For a moment, he froze, and then, bolting from his spot, he ran. Straight on the water. His feet touched the surface with such incredible speed that he didn't sink, leaving behind only light ripples and a trail of splashing spray. He ran to the opposite bank and, without even slowing down, turned around and came back. It was a pure, absurd denial of the laws of physics.
Kuroka, watching from her hiding place, froze. This wasn't magic. This was speed beyond comprehension.
Then Jin moved away from the river to the wasteland. He stood in the center, exhaled, and lightly, almost casually, stomped his foot. At that moment, the earth shuddered. A visible shockwave went from his foot along the ground in all directions, kicking up dust and making stones jump. The air around him thickened for a moment and vibrated with a low, threatening hum. It wasn't an earthquake. It was pure kinetic energy released with a single movement.
'So that's it...' flashed through Kuroka's mind. 'That's why Vali lost. He tried to fight a force of nature. Engaging him in open combat is suicide.' Her initial plan to "play" with him finally crumbled to dust, like that rock. Only one path remained—cunning. To find weakness not in his power, but in his soul.
In the evening, exhausted not physically but mentally, Jin returned home. The cat was already waiting for him at the door. He wearily petted her and went into the living room. Collapsing into an armchair, he almost immediately fell asleep.
...
Again, there was a gray world. The Doll, covered in many small cracks, wandered through the city. In a remote alley, she found an abandoned porcelain black cat, beautiful but with a crack on its side. The Doll began to care for it, bringing food, sheltering it from bad weather. Eventually, she decided to take the cat home. Her parents—tall, faceless figures woven from shadows—permitted it with cold indifference.
For the first time, a bright light appeared in the Doll's gray world. She was happy. She played with the cat, brushed its fur, shared her secrets with it. But one day, the Doll had to leave for a long time. When she returned, the house was empty. The cat was nowhere to be found.
She rushed to her parents in panic. But they, stepping out of the shadows, only said coldly:
"The cat ran away. It's your fault. You didn't watch it well enough."
There was no sympathy, no comfort. Only icy, unfair accusation. The Doll's world collapsed. From the double blow—the loss of her only friend and the betrayal by those who were supposed to be her support—an ugly network of deep black cracks spread all over the Doll's body. The light inside her dimmed.
The dream froze. Beside the sobbing Doll appeared the "Ghost." He looked at the broken Doll, and there was no mockery in his voice, but rather a cynical statement of fact.
'Hypocrisy,' his voice sounded in Jin's head. 'They let you get attached, and then made you guilty of your own negligence. Classic. Adults, parents, bosses... they are all the same. Never trust those who promise you protection. The only one you can rely on is yourself.'
...
Jin woke up with a feeling of cold rage and bitterness. This dream was too real; it touched some very old, forgotten wounds from his past life. Betrayal. Injustice. Helplessness.
He looked at the black cat sleeping peacefully on his lap. And icy fear pierced him. The dream was about a lost cat. He instinctively pressed her to himself, afraid of losing this only warm creature too.
Enough. He could no longer just sit and wait for the next nightmare. He couldn't let this "Ghost" continue to poison his mind with its cynical truths. He needed answers. Immediately.
He remembered the deal with Rias—access to the Gremory clan library. This was his only chance. The only thread he could grasp in this world to keep from going crazy.
Jin carefully moved the sleeping cat to the armchair and walked to the table where the magical communicator for contacting the club lay. A mask of cold determination froze on his face. He would no longer be a victim of his dreams. He would not be a doll.
He activated the device. On the other end, in the Underworld, Rias's surprised voice was heard:
"Jin? Did something happen?"
"I need access," his voice was hard as steel. "To your library. Now."