Volume 1: Baby Steps
Chapter 1: A Man and a Dragon
{Unknown Time — Unknown Void}
Even as he sat with one leg folded and the other extended, he didn't feel any real sense of fear or dread.
Confused? Sure. Certainly. But scared? Not even a little.
"What are you?" he heard the rumbling voice say, confusing him further.
Shouldn't he be the one asking that? he thought, but he didn't voice it.
Instead, he remained half-seated on the rocky terrain. Yes, rocky. As in made entirely of rocks. It wasn't ground formed of earth, but solid, sharp, unforgiving stone. Even the mountains far from him were nothing but rock.
Not a trace of earth, soil, vegetation, or water.
It was all rocks and sky.
No sun. Thick clouds. A soft purple hue, yet still bright. The sky was undeniably strange, and he couldn't make sense of it.
Not that he could make sense of where he was, why he was there, or who he was before either.
Well, maybe he knew what he was before, somewhat. Or rather, he knew his life with certainty. What he was, what he did, how his life unfolded. And yet, he couldn't recall how he looked, how he sounded, or even what his name was. Not even the names of the people in his life remained. Only the events did.
"How do you know so much of the world? So much of the future?"
The questions confused him, and his only response was to continue staring.
What else could he even do?
He was around 6'2", from what he could tell in his current state, while the creature before him stood at least a hundred feet tall.
Dark, almost black skin. Scales that felt and looked more like rock, veins of purple spread throughout its massive body. Each time its tail moved, the rocky terrain cracked and the distant mountains trembled. Its claws dug into the hills as if they were nothing more than scattered pebbles. And whenever it opened its mouth, it felt like staring into a cosmic scene, as though a swirling purple sky, a living nebula, existed within its jaws.
A dragon.
That's what it was.
"You know of the devils, the dragons, the gods, and the fallen. You know of the White Dragon Emperor and the Red Dragon Emperor. You know multiple events of the future. Not completely, not everything, yet you still know more than anyone should." The dragon's voice carried confusion, amusement, and anger all at once. "No one should know the future, not even the Dragon of Dreams. Yet you do. Why?"
The question sent him spiraling into a barrage of thoughts.
'White Dragon Emperor? Red Dragon Emperor?'
Standing before a dragon, a real dragon, or even being alive after getting shot felt less strange than hearing the names of fictional beings from a perverted, fucked-up show.
"Media?" the dragon grumbled. "Fiction? A story? A tale that is not real?" His voice rose with anger. "What bullshit! I am real. The dragons are real. What you know is real. And yet it is all fiction to you? A story? Something you saw as nothing more than entertainment?"
He still didn't know what to say to the dragon. If there was even anything he could say. After all, he was just as confused, if not more.
Because what did it mean that a random show he binged sometime in the past was supposed to be real?
'High School DxD?' he almost scoffed. 'Of all the fictional stories that could turn out to be real, it had to be this one?'
This wasn't a dream either. He could feel the sharp rocks biting into his skin. He could feel things.
Not the bullet that had torn through his chest, but the ground he sat on now.
"Your existence makes no sense," the dragon muttered. "You do not belong to this world, this universe. And yet your soul remains here, trapped like mine."
Trapped.
He didn't like the sound of that.
So he finally decided to ask.
"Who… are you?"
If the dragon was going to kill him, it might as well do so after answering a few questions. He had already died once. How much worse could a second death be?
"And how can you read my mind? My memories?"
The dragon stared down at him, eyes vast enough to rival his entire body.
"I do not know how I can read your mind," the dragon answered honestly. "But the fact that we are both souls, not physical entities, may be the reason. For as long as I can remember, I have been trapped here. The time when I was alive has long been forgotten by those who are physical. I barely remain a thought to a countable few."
The dragon's voice softened slightly. "When I was alive, when I had a body, when the living knew me… I was called Veylith, the Black Dragon, the Purple Abyss, or as the other dragons named me." His voice soured at the last part. "Veylith the Envious."
What he said next left the man speechless.
"The Third Heavenly Dragon. The forgotten one."
If the DxD world being real instead of fictional wasn't shocking enough, the existence of a third Dragon Emperor certainly was.
Still, rather than letting his confusion spiral further, he chose to ask.
"Forgotten? What do you mean?" He already had a guess. "And does it have something to do with the fact that my memories of the show never mentioned your name?"
He said the word show weakly, unsure of how the dragon would react.
The dragon scoffed. "A show," he repeated, lingering on the word. "Humans have certainly developed far. To be able to create so many marvels. Even a way to fabricate artificial stories in a visible, moving medium."
Thankfully, the dragon didn't seem offended.
"But yes," he continued. "I was one of the three who fell and was cursed. The other two were turned into what you call Longinus, as your memories suggest."
Longinus. A gift from God to humans, or a flaw in His creation that turned out stronger than even He had imagined. Weapons that allowed humans to stand on equal footing with other races during the War of the Races.
"There are many Longinus," the dragon went on, "but only a select few possess a consciousness within them. Not because they miraculously gained one, but because a conscious being was either sealed inside or turned into a Longinus directly. The Heavenly Dragons are Longinus that were both transformed and imprisoned in that form."
The dragon settled against a rocky mountain. "Ddraig, the Red Dragon of Domination, was trapped and turned into the Boosted Gear, capable of multiplying the power of its wielder many times over. Albion, the Vanishing Dragon, was turned and sealed within Divine Dividing, allowing its user to divide an enemy's power and absorb a portion of it."
The man already knew all of that and waited for the dragon to speak of himself.
"As for me," the dragon said, "I committed an act that made the God of the Bible so furious that he cursed my very existence to be forgotten and sealed forever. Never to be freed again."
"What did you do to make God so furious?" the man asked, baffled. After all, even Satan of the Bible had more freedom than this dragon.
The dragon laughed. "I stole what he valued most." His laughter turned sharp, almost manic. "I stole from humans, his most beloved. Their ability to evolve. To go beyond their limits. To be free. To learn more than any other race." His voice twisted. "I stole it. No… I tried to copy it. And for that, for that, I was punished."
The dragon sounded both bitter and proud.
"I gained the ability to learn and replicate what other races could do. Humans possessed the ability to copy everything. Perhaps not through magic as we did, but through their minds. As I have seen from your memories, illusions once exclusive to certain races were replicated by humans through what you call technology. Holograms." His eyes gleamed. "They could copy, steal what others had. And I copied that from them."
His voice rose. "I gained the ability to learn the abilities of humans and every other race. And because I was born with magic, I was not bound by the limits humans faced. I needed no technology, no time, no testing. I could copy abilities at will."
As the dragon's voice grew louder, the man realized just how monstrous that ability truly was.
"And out of anger, wrath, and yes… fear," the dragon said bitterly, "God punished me. I did not fall in war like the other two. My body was destroyed by God himself. Before I could grow enough to surpass him, he erased my flesh. He banished my soul to his prison realm and left me to rot here." His voice dropped to a low snarl. "All so he could face the Beast of the Apocalypse alone and… die."
The man could barely believe it. A dragon who had stolen from the God of the Bible, frightening Him enough to erase its body entirely.
And now, both of them were trapped in a realm he had no reason to be in.
"But you," the dragon scowled, "you are different. The same gods I know exist in your world as well, but only as names. With no physical presence. Your world is so similar, yet so very different. And you… you are a unique human to end up here."
He wasn't sure about unique, but he knew one thing for certain. Being here was a mistake.
Regardless of which religion was real in his world, he should have ended up in hell. And this wasn't hell.
This was some kind of void. Maybe that was what he deserved.
"Your memories aren't simple," the dragon cackled. "What were you?" he mused. "A killer? A servant? A lackey for the rich?"
Close. The dragon wasn't far off.
"A fixer," the man answered. "For a certain family of criminals. I fixed whatever mess they made."
The dragon seemed amused. "Not something a dragon would ever do. But your memories were interesting, at the very least. Still, it is strange that you cannot even recall your own name."
Dragons despised serving others, but even so, Veylith enjoyed those memories.
"You possess no magic. No special abilities like those from my world. And yet you rushed in to kill, to protect, to prevent, with your life on the line. You have killed many, protected undeserving rats, and died for it." His voice darkened. "And no one batted an eye."
That was the worst part.
His death didn't matter.
He had been valuable, yes. A fixer who could kill even the most skilled gangsters. Someone with connections built over years, connections the family itself considered rare. And still, after saving them for over a decade, they sent him on a mission with less than a single percent chance of success.
After his death, he was sure they simply found someone else. Maybe not as good as him, but good enough.
"None of that matters now," the man sighed. "I'm already dead in my world. And I'm probably stuck here in this void for the rest of eternity."
He was tired. Exhausted from all the bullshit that came with being a fixer. And even if he was trapped here, in the void, with a grumpy dragon for eternity… he didn't mind. At least he wouldn't be at the beck and call of some drug addict anymore.
Without a hint of fear, he sat down on the rough ground, greatly amusing the dragon.
"Courage is one thing," the dragon said, staring at him, "but indifference is another. You may be trapped here just as I am, yet you do not seem to care."
"It's not like there's an exit," the man shrugged casually. "Worst you can do is kill me, if that's even possible here. And honestly, that doesn't sound so bad."
The dragon was left speechless.
Never once had he encountered a human who did not fear death, or the idea of being trapped in an endless, eternal void.
Especially not one who would share it with him. Veylith, the Black Dragon.
Veylith initially believed the man was merely putting up a brave front. But as time passed, and as he peered deeper into the man's soul, the dragon realized the truth.
The man was genuinely unbothered.
Still, Veylith hoped he would eventually break. That he would go mad in this unmoving place where not even time flowed. Everything here was frozen, locked in a single moment. No wind. No motion. The only time anything shifted was when Veylith willed it so. The ground cracked. The mountains trembled.
Despite time standing still, the dragon could still estimate how much had passed in the real world.
Countless years since his own imprisonment.
And a month or two since the man's arrival.
Even now, the man either sat on the ground or lay there, staring blankly into nothing.
It frustrated Veylith. Despite coming from what might have been a higher realm, the human preferred silence.
By the sixth month, Veylith had finally had enough and chose to be the one to speak.
"The Red Dragon Emperor's host," he said. "That perverted boy. Do you believe he will become stronger than what you saw through your media?"
The human considered the question, then nodded. "Much stronger. Possibly the strongest host there's ever been."
"Why?" Veylith asked, intrigued.
"The show was what you'd call perverted slop," the man said flatly. "A story where you don't expect real twists or unsolvable problems for the main character. He's the protagonist. He's meant to be the strongest." He shrugged. "If the genre were different, maybe a thriller or a tragedy, he might not have survived. Might've even died somewhere down the line. But it's neither. So the obvious answer is that he becomes absurdly powerful."
It irritated Veylith that Ddraig and Albion continued to grow in fame while he remained forgotten, sealed in this void. The only consolation he found was that Ddraig's host was an irredeemable pervert who tarnished the Red Dragon's reputation, no matter how powerful he became.
As time passed, Veylith grew accustomed to the man's presence. He didn't mind it. The human was quiet, never disruptive. He simply shared the space, occasionally asking or answering questions.
"I wouldn't mind being a Longinus if my host were someone like you," Veylith said suddenly. "It's been almost a year since you arrived, and you are far less repulsive than most humans I have known."
Perhaps it was the endless time in the void that had softened him. Or perhaps sharing this place with the man for so long had done it. Either way, Veylith meant what he said.
Unlike Ddraig's perverted host, or Albion's edgy half-devil, he greatly preferred the human in the void. In Veylith's eyes, the man was calm. Dignified. Worthy of being called his host.
If such a thing were even possible.
And perhaps… it wasn't impossible after all.
Because on the three hundred and sixty-fifth day, exactly one year after the human entered the void, something unexpected happened.
"The ground—" Both Veylith and the man stared as the earth cracked open, splitting into a massive chasm. "This has never happened before…"
In all the years Veylith had been trapped here, nothing like this had ever happened. The only exception was when the human had appeared in the void a year ago. But even then, the sky hadn't cracked.
So what they were witnessing now was unprecedented.
"It isn't just a hole," the human said with a faint frown. "I can… see through it. Like looking through muddy water."
Veylith's vision was no different.
Through the opening, shimmering with a faint translucence, they could see beyond the void. And what they saw caught them both off guard.
"Is that… Earth?" Veylith asked, amused, seeing the human world for the first time in centuries. "I can see humans."
They appeared blurry, almost like silhouettes. Dark shapes, indistinct. Yet among them were a select few, only a handful, who carried a strange glow.
Veylith didn't understand what that meant. But the human seemed to.
He noticed the man stepping closer to the opening. "This could be…" The human hesitated, then pushed his hand into the murky gap.
The moment it crossed through, his hand began to dissolve, turning into a dark stream that flowed downward.
He pulled it back instantly, amusement flashing through him. His hand was still there, intact, but something felt wrong.
When they looked again, both Veylith and the man saw the faint stream trailing from the opening, drifting toward one of the glowing figures. The dark vapor reached the human, one of the few who shone, and slipped inside him. The man below jerked suddenly, glanced around, then scratched his head in confusion.
"What… is this?" Veylith asked, intrigued, hoping his companion had an answer. To him, this looked like a path. A fragile, hopeful route out of a prison he had been bound to for ages.
The only problem was what he had seen. The human's hand had nearly vaporized. Escape was tempting, but not at the cost of losing oneself.
The human, however, had another idea.
He moved along the opening, searching through it until he found another glowing figure. A middle-aged man sitting in a park.
Once again, he pushed his hand through.
Once again, it dissolved into vapor and drifted toward the target.
He pulled back quickly, watching as the faint mist reached the man below. The man stiffened, eyes glazing over for a brief moment.
Both times, the humans reacted the same way. A sudden jolt. A momentary trance.
And that was enough.
"I think… I know what's happening," the human said quietly.
Veylith raised a scaly brow. "Then tell me."
"The vapor only goes toward the ones with a glow. And every time it touches them, they enter a trance." He paused. "Almost like… something is taking control."
Veylith wasn't foolish. He grasped the implication immediately.
"You believe the vapor is attempting to take over their bodies?"
It was unsettling, but not unheard of. Even in life, Veylith had known magic that dealt with souls and possession.
"My guess is that if I fully pass through this crack, I might be able to take over a body," the man said, lips pressed thin. "The problem is, there's no way to be sure."
Veylith tested it himself, pushing a clawed finger into the gap. His essence seeped out, drifting toward the same glowing individual the human had targeted.
He frowned.
Shifting position, Veylith focused on another glowing human. Despite the new target being clearly in sight, the vapor still veered toward the original one.
Even from a distance.
As frustrated as he was, the human still seemed amused.
"Interesting," he said. "Looks like you can only aim for the one I go for."
"Are they telling us to fight for control over the body?" Veylith asked, irritation creeping into his voice.
"Possibly," the human replied. "Or… we might have to share the body."
That didn't sound any better to Veylith. But the man clearly wasn't done thinking.
"How confident are you that God didn't create a way to turn you into a Longinus?" the human asked suddenly, catching Veylith off guard.
"He banished me here. Trapped me forever," Veylith said venomously. "He certainly didn't plan to make me anything other than a prisoner."
The man didn't back down. "Did he say it?"
Veylith frowned, ready to argue, but the more he thought about it, the more his frustration grew. The being that had sealed him away hadn't spoken a word. Only looked at him with disappointment.
"What are you thinking?" the dragon finally asked.
The man stepped back, crossing his arms as he thought.
The crack still hadn't closed, which was a good sign. It meant they had time.
"This definitely isn't my world," he said. "I don't remember things like that existing back home."
He gestured toward the strange birds flitting through the air, creatures the humans below seemed completely oblivious to.
"Those are supernatural creatures, right?"
Veylith nodded. "Familiars."
Familiars were mostly invisible to non-supernaturals, only revealed at their owner's command.
"Which means this is most likely your world," the man continued. "And if I end up in a body, I'm getting dragged straight into the supernatural side of things."
Veylith tilted his head, confused. "Or you could just live a normal life, away from all that."
"Possible," the man admitted. "But do you really think that's likely if I'm taking over someone else's body? Assuming that's even what's happening. Someone's bound to notice, and I don't like that outcome."
Being noticed by the supernatural while having no way to defend himself sounded like suicide.
"Us taking over a body together means either we fight for control," the man went on, "or God never fully erased the possibility of you becoming a Sacred Gear."
There was also the chance God had nothing to do with this at all.
Still, given the situation, he preferred to take the risk.
Worst case scenario, his soul vanished. He'd already accepted death once, back when he took a bullet to the abdomen in his world.
"You can take the risk with me," he said, "or stay here, trapped like before."
That was what frustrated Veylith the most.
Grinding his teeth, the dragon muttered, "If we have to fight for control, I'll devour your soul."
The man smirked. "Deal."
With that settled, the most important task left was choosing a body.
"Pick one," Veylith muttered, but the man had another thought.
"If you do end up as a Sacred Gear, or even something similar… something capable of using your original powers," he said, "it'd probably be your copying ability, right?"
Veylith didn't know why he was asking, but he nodded anyway. If Ddraig and Albion retained their signature powers, it made sense that he would too.
"Probably," he said.
The man's smirk widened.
"Then we should choose carefully." He looked at the dragon. "Mind telling me a bit more about your abilities?"
Veylith found it oddly amusing. This was one of the rare moments when the human seemed genuinely animated and not the uncaring guy that simply lazed around the void.
"I can steal the core power of someone I kill, or someone who's already dead," Veylith said. "By consuming their shadow, I permanently take their abilities. And by being near someone's shadow, even while they're alive, I can temporarily copy their power."
He paused before adding, "Once I steal a power, I can't discard it. It stays with me. There was never a limit to how many I could take… but if I end up like Ddraig or Albion, there will likely be one."
"Which means I need to be mindful of what abilities we copy. If we end up permanently stuck with something useless… that'd be a waste," the guy shrugged. "In theory, at least."
Theory.
After all, they weren't even sure they could actually take over a body. Still, risking their lives sounded better than staying trapped in a void forever.
"Just pick a young body," the dragon grumbled. "Or is there something specific you're looking for?"
It wasn't that Veylith wasn't curious. He just didn't want to spend a second longer in the void now that an escape had presented itself.
"If you end up as a Sacred Gear, we need to be somewhere safe," the man said. "Dragon Gears are rare and hunted. We can't just drop ourselves into a den of devils, fallen, or mad researchers."
Veylith thought for a moment. "Unlike Ddraig and Albion, I believe you have to interact with other races to survive. A secluded life is possible, but knowing a few people is better." His eyes narrowed. "The question is which race, and which individuals."
They both knew every race had good and evil. In the end, it came down to who benefitted them the most.
"The devil hierarchy is a mess. And aside from a few, most of them look down on humans," the man said, earning a nod from Veylith. "Fallens are the same, if not worse. Angels… they don't really hunt humans, aside from a few who turn them into holy soldiers."
Dragons were an obvious non-option. They barely cared about anyone, including their own kind.
Youkai were reclusive, and most other monsters simply ate humans.
There were human factions that believed in human supremacy, like the Hero Faction, but that seemed idiotic to him.
"Do you know what we need to protect most?" he asked.
Veylith thought for a second. "Our minds?"
"Exactly." He nodded. "We need protection against mental interference. And most devils use hypnosis. Same with fallens."
"Draconic power can shield the mind most of the time," Veylith said, "but it isn't perfect. If someone manages to read our thoughts, it'll be a problem."
That was the real issue. Mental defense against all races wasn't easy.
"From what I remember, devils and fallens are the biggest offenders when it comes to mind tricks. Dragons don't really bother with that. And angels…" He hesitated, then shrugged. "They're strong, sure. But they're not as cunning or manipulative as devils and fallens… They are kind of slow. The real threat is the dark side."
Veylith finally saw where he was going.
"Devils and fallens can't invade the mind of someone protected by holy power," the dragon said.
"Exactly." A grin spread across the man's face. "Our best option is someone tied to the Church. Preferably a decently powerful one. Not too high-ranking though. The upper brass would turn me into a weapon for their crusades." He glanced through the crack again. "Maybe an orphanage run by such a church."
"That… is a smart choice," Veylith admitted, impressed. Then again, given the man's former profession, sharp thinking came with the territory.
"We also can't appear in Kuoh," the man clicked his tongue. "I checked the year on a poster. It's almost two decades before Ddraig awakens."
Before Rias and Sona, Kuoh had different management. Without proper information, he wasn't willing to risk it.
"Somewhere close, then?" Veylith asked. He had seen the memories and knew everything eventually centered around Kuoh. "We still need to be nearby to steal and copy abilities."
Which led them both to the nearest town with a church important enough to matter.
"Airi Town, huh?"
South of Kuoh, only a few minutes away, and home to a fairly large church.
Veylith stared at the church and frowned. "It is blessed, that is certain."
With that in mind, their eyes searched for a decent enough body. Looking around, they finally spotted a facility next to the church—an orphanage.
Reading the blurry text, barely making out the words, they figured out that it was overseen by the church, which made them both breathe out in relief.
"Three boys," Veylith muttered. "Not bad."
There were three boys: two around twelve and one a little younger than ten. There were a few girls as well, who had the glow on them, but neither of them had any interest in taking over a girl.
However, Veylith was a little off—whether intentionally or not.
"Four boys," he said, which made the dragon a little unhappy.
"You cannot be serious about taking over the body of a baby barely a year old…" Veylith grumbled.
What he was looking at was a baby, one that hadn't even spoken his first word yet.
Still, there was a reason for picking that baby.
"I do not know Japanese, Veylith," the guy said in a deadpan tone. "Other races have the ability to immediately master languages, which makes sense. Devils are known for lying and scamming, and they can't do that without speaking every language. But the point is, there's no guarantee I'll be able to figure out the language after taking over the body. And imagine a twelve-year-old who can't speak the native language and instead speaks English. On top of that, I can't mimic how those boys act. If we don't act the same, people will get suspicious."
Veylith felt a little embarrassed for missing such an important detail. "With a kid, you can act like yourself and no one will be suspicious."
A baby didn't exactly have a defined personality or manner of speaking, so any changes wouldn't be noticeable.
It was a little annoying, but Veylith had to admit it—the man was smart.
"So, we're going after the baby?" Veylith asked, and the guy nodded.
"It's unfortunate, but I'd much rather take over a child who hasn't formed his first thought than a kid with dreams and hopes."
The dragon scoffed. "Yeah, right."
He had seen his memories and read his soul.
Veylith knew for a fact that the guy didn't care about any of that, not even for a second. He was only saying it as a joke.
"So, we take over the kid?"
"That's what we'll do, Veylith—" and without another word, he jumped through the crack.
Veylith's eyes widened. The dragon hadn't expected the human to jump so brazenly, without thinking longer or preparing his mind. His body turned into vapor and immediately entered the baby's body, causing the crying to abruptly stop.
"Crazy bastard," the dragon clicked his tongue. "I hope this isn't a mistake."
With that and a sigh, Veylith followed suit—hiding the hope and excitement behind his stoic, draconic face.
After all, he was free.
Free after years he had long since lost count of.
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{A/N: Just wanted to write a DxD story with a different angle. Hope you all like it!
Got a pat reon named RedLamp01 with 30+ chapters and more stories.
}