"That's the Red Dragon Emperor's Gauntlet! The Boosted Gear! That's one of the Thirteen Longinus! That is a top-tier, god-killing Sacred Gear!"
She whirled on Giratina, her pigtails whipping through the air.
"How?! Where?! How did you get your hands on the soul of the Welsh Dragon?!"
Giratina gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug.
"I sensed a concentration of strong draconic energy that felt… unanchored. So I picked it up."
She said it like she'd found a lucky penny on the sidewalk.
The room went dead silent again.
I turned to Serafall, my concern rising.
"Is it dangerous for Mashiro? I don't want her arm falling off or her soul getting eaten by a lizard."
Serafall took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.
"…Not exactly," she admitted, her eyes still glued to the gauntlets.
"Actually… It's probably the best immediate power-up she could receive. It's a shortcut to high-tier status."
Mashiro blinked, looking at the glowing red metal.
"The Boosted Gear contains the soul of Ddraig, the Welsh Dragon," Serafall explained, her tone unusually serious.
"Usually, the Gear chooses its host, and if the wielder is incompatible or fails to earn Ddraig's respect, it can lead to… well, madness, death, or simple inactivity. But," she glanced at Giratina, "given who is presenting it, I suspect the 'negotiations' with the dragon have already been handled."
I looked at Giratina.
She didn't say anything, but the cold glint in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.
Ddraig had probably been given a choice: cooperate or be deleted from existence.
"And its ability?" I asked.
"It doubles the user's power every ten seconds," Serafall said.
"It enhances physical strength, magical capacity, and can even transfer that power to others. It's basically a multiplier for existence."
I rubbed my chin, thinking.
"So, no matter how weak she starts, she becomes a ticking time bomb for the enemy. She's like a late-game rock-paper-scissors cheat card. If you don't beat her in the first minute, you're done."
Serafall nodded.
"The only downside is that the boost scales with the user's natural base strength. If you start at zero, doubling zero is still zero. But Mashiro isn't a zero. Also, her base endurance needs to be as high as possible to endure the surge of incoming strength."
I turned to Mashiro.
I didn't want to force this on her.
I walked over and crouched down slightly so we were eye-level.
I wanted her to see that I wasn't just barking orders.
"So? What do you think, Mashiro?"
I asked softly.
"If you agree, we'll go with this plan. We'll go to another world, you'll get this power, and we'll train. But if you don't want it—if it feels like too much—we'll figure out something else. I promise."
I gave her a small, reassuring smile.
"This is your life. It's your decision."
Mashiro didn't answer immediately.
She looked at the crimson gauntlet, then at me, then at the others in the room.
She seemed to be weighing the quiet life she had known against the chaotic, sparkling, dangerous world she had just fallen into.
Then, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with a sudden, quiet spark of curiosity.
"…Can I see more of the world?" she asked.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was clear. It was an honest request.
My heart skipped a beat.
There was something so earnest about her.
"Yeah," I said, my voice softening.
"You can. We're literally going to an entirely different world, Mashiro. You're going to see things no one else has even dreamed of."
I scratched my cheek awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed by my own sentimentality.
Akeno didn't miss it.
She leaned over and elbowed me lightly in the ribs.
"Ara ara~ what was that expression just now, Zevion? You looked almost... sweet."
"Nothing! It was nothing!"
I said instantly, my face heating up.
Mashiro nodded, her decision made.
"…Okay. What do I need to do?"
I turned to Giratina, my expression hardening.
"Handle it. But I'm holding you personally responsible, Giratina. Make absolutely sure she isn't harmed during the integration. If she so much as gets a headache, I'm going to be very annoyed."
Giratina bowed her head deeply.
"As you wish, Master."
She took the gauntlet and approached Mashiro.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
It wasn't just pressure; it was like the air was being replaced by something thicker, something horrifyingly terrifying.
Space began to crack faintly around Giratina's feet as distortion energy leaked out of her.
She looked down at the crimson gauntlet.
Her golden eyes turned cold—colder than the void between stars.
"If you so much as attempt to harm or hinder Miss Mashiro," she whispered to the gear, "you will experience the most bitter, agonizing end imaginable. I will pull your soul from that cage and scatter it across a thousand distorted dimensions. Do you understand, Red Dragon?"
The pressure focused entirely on the gauntlet.
For a split second, I could swear I saw the green gem on the back of the hand flicker in a way that looked suspiciously like a shiver.
Then, the pressure vanished.
Just like that.
The room felt normal again.
Giratina reached out and gently pressed the gauntlet against Mashiro's chest.
It didn't clatter against her; it passed through her skin like a stone falling into a still pond.
There was no blood.
No scream.
No resistance.
A ripple of crimson light washed over Mashiro's body, her hair lifting for a second in an invisible breeze.
Then, it settled.
"All finished, Master."
Mashiro blinked and looked down at her hands.
"…Oh."
She patted her chest.
Nothing.
No discomfort.
No dramatic explosion of power.
No glowing runes.
She just looked like Mashiro.
"That was… incredibly anticlimactic," I noted.
"I was expecting at least a small explosion. Maybe some chanting?"
"I also adjusted the Sacred Gear's internal parameters," Giratina added. "To increase compatibility and ensure the dragon remains… cooperative."
"Of course you did," I muttered. "Poor red dragon. He never stood a chance."
I stood up and stretched, my joints popping.
"Well… I guess we're ready. Pack your bags, ladies. We're going on a trip."
Rias frowned, her brow furrowing with genuine concern.
"What? Already? Zevion, you've been running around all day. You've dealt with fallen angels, dragons, and financial ruin. You should rest tonight and head out tomorrow morning."
"Aww," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"Is my sweet, sweet Rias actually worried about my well-being? I'm touched."
She turned a very pretty shade of pink.
"Shut up. I'm being practical. An exhausted leader is a dead leader."
But I shook my head.
"The world is moving too fast, Rias. We don't have the luxury of a good night's sleep. We need to get Mashiro settled and get stronger as soon as possible."
I gave her a reassuring smile.
"Besides, remember the trick? Once I enter another dimension, I'll return here at the exact microsecond I left. I can sleep for twelve hours on the other side and come back here refreshed before you can even finish that sentence."
Before anyone could argue—
*WHAM.*
A small, deceptively powerful fist slammed into my stomach.
The air left my lungs in a single, pathetic wheeze.
I doubled over, clutching my midsection.
"Ghh—!"
I looked down.
Koneko was standing there, her fist still clenched, looking up at me with her usual expressionless face.
"What… was that… for?!"
I gasped.
She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Now you are injured. You need rest to heal."
She didn't move an inch.
"So you must rest. Now."
I stared at her, still trying to remember how to breathe.
"…Violent cat logic. It's a thing. Apparently."
But, annoyingly, she was right.
I was beat. My brain felt like it was made of wet cardboard.
I sighed, finally straightening up.
"Fine. I'll rest once we cross over. I'll make it a priority. Happy now?"
Koneko nodded once.
Satisfied.
"Zevion."
Sona's voice was quiet.
I looked over at her.
She wasn't looking at the others; she was looking directly at me with a strange, heavy determination in her eyes.
It was a look I hadn't seen on her before—hesitant, yet firm.
"When you come back… there is something I need to tell you," she said.
Her voice wavered just a tiny bit, which for Sona was the equivalent of a breakdown.
"So… make sure you come back safely. Don't take unnecessary risks."
I swallowed hard.
The weight of her words felt heavier than Giratina's aura.
"…Okay. I promise."
I forced a grin, trying to shake off the sudden gravity of the moment. "
Anyway, for you guys, I'll be gone for literally zero seconds. It'll be like I just blinked."
I glanced around the room.
"Wait, where are Irina and Tsubaki? And the rest?"
Xenovia shrugged, looking equally tired.
"Sleeping. Most of them hit their limit an hour ago. It's been a long day for everyone."
"Fair enough," I said.
"You should all get some sleep, too. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."
I looked at my core team—Giratina, Ravel, and Mashiro.
They were the ones coming with me into the unknown.
My inventory was looking dangerously low, and I'd need to restock on basics before we really got moving, but that could wait for the "other side."
Serafall suddenly leaned in and winked at me, her mischievous grin returning.
"Oh! By the way, Zevion-chan!"
"Yes?"
"When you come back, I'll have a special gift ready for you!"
She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"A very special one. To celebrate your successful mission!"
"…."
A cold, terrible feeling crawled up my spine.
"…I have a very bad feeling about what you consider a 'gift,' Serafall."
She just laughed and waved as she started leading the others toward the guest rooms.
One by one, the lights in the house began to dim.
Soon, the living room was quiet.
The frantic energy of the day had finally settled into a low, buzzing anticipation.
It was just the four of us now, standing in the shadows of the foyer.
Me.
My silent, god-like partner.
My loyal familiar.
And the girl who is going to inherit the power to kill gods.
I looked at the door, then at the empty air where our portal would soon appear.
"Ready?" I asked.
Mashiro nodded.
Ravel stood tall.
Giratina simply waited.
"Then let's go see what another world looks like."
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