Disclaimer: Just in case nobody realized I don't own nor do I claim ownership of Highschool DxD, all characters and worlds belong to their real world respective owners. I'm just having some fun, that's all.
Warning sexual content disclaimer: All characters and actions are above 18+
Highschool DxD: The Cursed King of Kuoh
S1 Ch 19: Let's Go For A Run
"Alright," he said, voice low and almost conversational. "Now I'm pissed."
Freed scrambled backward, heel catching on a fallen chair, knocking it aside with a clatter. "T-That's impossible," he muttered, staring at the healed flesh. "You're supposed to be dead."
Before Sukuna could take a single step forward, the wall to his left exploded inward.
Concrete and splintered wood burst into the room in a violent spray. A heavy boot crunched down onto the debris as a tall figure stepped through the wreckage as if it were nothing more than a curtain.
Black wings unfurled behind him, feathers scattering dust with each controlled movement. The air shifted, charged suddenly with the faint scent of ozone and something sharper—holy energy that prickled faintly against Sukuna's skin.
Freed's panic upon seeing Dohnaseek shifted instantly into relief. "About time," he breathed.
Sukuna, however, merely raised one brow. Slowly, deliberately, he looked the fallen angel up and down—lingering on the gray trench coat, the polished boots, the severe expression.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Oh great," Sukuna drawled. "A pervert's here."
The room fell into a stunned silence.
Dohnaseek blinked once, visibly thrown. "Excuse me?"
Sukuna gestured lazily to the scene around them: the abandoned apartment, the late hour, the middle-aged man in a trench coat stepping through a destroyed wall toward a teenage boy standing alone in the dark.
"What exactly," Sukuna continued mildly, "am I supposed to think?"
Freed had to stop himself from laughing, while Dohnaseek's face darkened several shades.
"I am not a pervert," Dohnaseek snapped, wings twitching sharply behind him.
Sukuna's expression did not change. "That's precisely what a pervert would say."
For a brief moment the tension in the room shifted—not from fear, but from indignation. Even Freed seemed unsure how to respond.
Dohnaseek exhaled slowly through his nose, visibly reining himself in. "Enough. You will come quietly, and answer for the death of one of our own."
Sukuna's upper pair of eyes narrowed slightly, amusement flickering through all four. Raynare's final moments surfaced easily in his memory—the panic in her voice, the disbelief in her eyes when she realized she wasn't the predator in that encounter.
"You mean the burnette?" Sukuna asked casually. "She screamed quite a bit. It was fucking hilarious."
Freed stiffened. Dohnaseek's gaze sharpened.
"You dare mock the Grigori?" Dohnaseek asked coldly.
"Hey you're insects to me so it's hard to tell you apart," he shrugged. "And what exactly happens if I don't come along with you pervert?"
The temperature in the apartment seemed to dip.
Movement flickered at the edge of the hallway. The human client—the man Sukuna had come to visit as part of his so-called "devil duties"—had returned, pale and shaking. He must have fled during the earlier gunshot, but fear or curiosity had drawn him back. His glasses were crooked, his shirt stained with beer, hands trembling visibly as he peeked around the frame.
Dohnaseek noticed him immediately.
In a blur of motion far too fast for the human to comprehend, Dohnaseek crossed the room and seized the man by the collar, dragging him forward. The client let out a broken yelp as his feet left the ground.
"If you resist," Dohnaseek said evenly, tightening his grip, "he dies."
The man's eyes darted wildly toward Sukuna. "P-Please," he choked, voice cracking. "Help me—"
Sukuna looked at him. Not with cruelty or anger. Just a stone cold assessment.
The man was weak. Soft. Pathetic in every measurable way. A creature that consumed and hid and trembled. He had begged earlier too—about trivial things. About fantasies. About desires.
Sukuna just gave another small shrug and flicked his wrist sending out an invisible slash. The man's whimpering stopped, his body went limp in Dohnaseek's grip before his head slowly fell off and tumbled across the floor. Blood sprang from the body's neck like a fountain splashing the fallen angel's face.
Silence swallowed the apartment as both Freed and Dohnaseek looked at the dead client in shock. Sukuna stared down at the head and its dumb expression before slowly looking back up at the pervert fallen.
"You were saying?" He asked sarcastically with a sly grin.
Dohnaseek's jaw tightened, now he had no leverage. This devil or rather this monster couldn't be manipulated by human collateral, or operated under the standard rules of morality.
Without another word, divine light flared in his palm.
A spear of radiant energy formed instantly—a brilliant violet spear of light, so bright it washed the room in harsh illumination. Sukuna's elongated shadow stretched grotesquely along the wall, four eyes glowing crimson in the reflected light.
Dohnaseek hurled it.
The spear struck Sukuna clean through the shoulder, driving him half a step backward. A sharp hiss filled the room as holy energy burned against newly devilish flesh. Smoke curled from the wound, the scent sharp and acrid.
It hurt far more than when he faced Raynare, now that he had become a devil. For the first time since regenerating, Sukuna's lips twitched—not in fear, but irritation.
Freed seized the moment racing toward Dohnaseek who grabbed him by the collar, and wings snapping open in a powerful gust that scattered dust and debris across the room. They blasted through the broken wall into the night sky.
The apartment fell quiet once more.
Sukuna looked down at the spear embedded in his shoulder. The divine construct hummed faintly, radiating residual energy. He reached up calmly, fingers curling around it. Cracks spider-webbed along its glowing surface. With a slow squeeze, the spear shattered into drifting particles of fading light that dissolved into the air like dying embers.
His flesh began to knit itself back together, muscle and skin reforming under the steady hum of reverse cursed technique. The pain dulled quickly, replaced by steady warmth as regeneration completed.
He picked himself up off the ground and walked toward the jagged opening in the wall. Cold night air rushed over him, carrying city sounds upward—engines, laughter, distant music. In the distance, two dark shapes streaked across rooftops beneath the moonlight.
Sukuna's smile grew.
"Oh alright," he muttered softly. "Let's go for a run."
Cursed energy surged through him, flooding his limbs in a violent, exhilarating rush. The wooden floor beneath his feet cracked under the sudden pressure as reinforcement wrapped around muscle and bone like invisible armor.
He crouched low before jumping. The building trembled as he launched himself into open air, clearing the gap between rooftops effortlessly. Wind tore past him, whipping at his hair and clothes, the city transforming into a vertical hunting ground of neon and shadow.
Moments after darting after his fleeing prey a crimson magic circle bloomed across the shattered apartment floor, intricate sigils spinning slowly within its glowing perimeter. The ruined living room flickered red as demonic energy pushed outward, displacing dust and settling debris in slow spirals. The air shifted, heavy with power.
From the center of the circle stepped Rias, her crimson hair catching the glow like living flame. Behind her emerged Akeno, composed and smiling faintly; Koneko, silent and observant; and Kiba, already scanning the room with a knight's trained awareness.
The circle eventually faded and as they looked around the destroyed room none of them spoke.
The apartment looked as though a bomb had gone off. Furniture lay splintered and overturned. The walls were cracked and pocked with impact marks. The faint smell of gunpowder lingered beneath something sharper—ozone and scorched air. The coffee table had been cleaved nearly in half, though not by any visible blade.
In the next apartment lay the headless human client, his blood forming a puddle on the floor.
Rias's expression hardened slightly. "We were too late," she murmured.
Kiba stepped forward cautiously, kneeling near the body. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. This was the part of devil work that never made it into the fantasies of contracts and favors.
Koneko closed her eyes briefly and inhaled.
The room held layers of scent—fear, alcohol, dust, and something metallic beneath it all. But cutting through everything else was the unmistakable trace of light-based magic. It burned faintly in the air, like sunlight trapped in smoke.
"There's light residue," she said quietly. "Strong. And…" She sniffed again, nose wrinkling slightly. "Fallen angels."
Akeno's smile thinned at the edges. "How unpleasant."
Rias walked toward the gaping hole in the wall where concrete and insulation spilled outward into the night. The curtains flapped weakly in the breeze, carrying in the cool scent of impending rain.
"And Sukuna?" she asked.
Koneko stepped closer to the broken wall and inhaled deeply once more. Her golden eyes opened slowly.
"His scent goes out the window," she replied. "Same direction as the fallen."
Rias exhaled through her nose, gaze lifting toward the skyline beyond. The moon hung low behind drifting clouds, silver light reflecting off distant rooftops.
"So they came for revenge," she said quietly. "For Raynare."
Kiba rose to his feet. "Then we should pursue them immediately. If they attacked him—"
"They attacked him," Rias interrupted, though there was no panic in her tone. Only calculation. "But I doubt they understood what they were attacking."
A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.
"They bit off more than they could chew."
Akeno tilted her head slightly, dark hair sliding over her shoulder. "Ara ara… you sound very confident, President. Aren't you worried?"
Rias glanced back at her peerage. "I would be," she admitted, "if I hadn't already seen what he's capable of."
She almost felt sorry for the fallen angels.
Almost.
Kiba frowned slightly. "Then what are our orders?"
Rias's expression sharpened into that of a noble devil accustomed to command. "First, we repair the apartment. Structural damage, wall integrity, everything. Then we erase any human witnesses' memories within a three-block radius. I refuse to sit through another one of Sona's lectures about 'reckless peerage management.'"
Akeno covered her mouth lightly as she laughed. "My, my. President Sitri does get very strict when paperwork is involved."
"Yes," Rias replied flatly. "And I am not listening to her complain about city infrastructure damage again."
Her gaze drifted once more to the night beyond the ruined wall.
"And when Sukuna finishes whatever destruction he's currently causing," she added, "we will clean that up as well."
Akeno's violet eyes gleamed with amusement. "So you're not concerned?"
Rias folded her arms, crimson hair shifting with the breeze.
"I'd be more concerned," she said evenly, "if he were the one being chased."
There was a brief pause.
"Still," she added with a faint narrowing of her eyes, "when he returns, I'll be giving him an ear full."
Koneko blinked slowly. "He won't listen."
Rias sighed. "I know."
Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance as the devils started repairing the apartments.
o-O-o
High above the city, black wings cut sharply through the night air.
Dohnaseek flew at full speed, wind roaring past his ears as the abandoned church came into view miles ahead. His grip on Freed was firm—one arm hooked beneath the exorcist's shoulders, hauling him like unwanted cargo.
Freed, for his part, was deeply unhappy.
"Do you mind?!" he snapped over the rush of wind. "I have legs, you know! This is undignified!"
"You were nearly killed," Dohnaseek replied tersely, adjusting his hold as they banked sharply around a rooftop antenna. "Your recklessness compromised the mission."
"Oh please," Freed scoffed. "You saw that thing regenerate! That's not normal. That thing is no normal devil. And when the hell did it become a devil?! I thought he was some clan reject!"
Dohnaseek's jaw tightened. He did not respond immediately. The image of the boy's four eyes and casual expression replayed uncomfortably in his mind.
Freed continued grumbling. "And carrying me like a bag of groceries? At least try to maintain some dignity—"
"Hey!"
The voice came from above them, making both men look up instinctively.
A figure dropped from the sky. There was no flare of wings. No magic circle. Just a dark silhouette descending rapidly against the clouded moon.
Sukuna fell like a meteor, his heel connected with both of them simultaneously in a brutal midair impact that detonated with a thunderous crack. The force sent all three plummeting downward in a tangled collision of limbs and feathers.
They hit the street below with explosive force. Making concrete fractured outward from the impact site. Windows rattled in nearby buildings. A parked car alarm began shrieking somewhere down the block before abruptly shorting out.
Dust rose in a thick cloud.
Dohnaseek groaned as he pushed himself upright, blood trailing faintly from the corner of his mouth. Freed rolled onto his back, coughing, coat torn and smeared with grit.
Rain began to fall—light at first, then steady, cool droplets darkening the asphalt.
A pair of boots touched down softly a few meters away.
Sukuna straightened slowly, rain sliding over his skin and catching in his hair. The faint red glow in his eyes reflected in the pooling water at his feet. He rolled his shoulders once, stretching casually as though this were nothing more than light exercise.
"That was rude," he said mildly. "Leaving without saying goodbye."
Freed pushed himself to his knees, glaring. "You insane little—"
Sukuna ran a hand back through his hair, slicking it away from his face. Rainwater streamed down his temples, tracing the sharp lines of the black markings etched across his face. The moisture only made the tattoos stand out more starkly against pale flesh.
He reached down and, without ceremony, tore the remains of his already damaged shirt away, letting it fall into a rain-soaked heap beside him. His torso was fully exposed now—lean muscle marked with jagged, symmetrical black patterns that seemed almost alive beneath the dim streetlights.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the rain.
"Much better," he murmured.
Dohnaseek rose fully to his feet, wings spreading again despite visible strain. Freed staggered upright beside him, wiping blood from his lip.
Sukuna's smile widened.
"Now that we're outside," he continued smoothly, gesturing to the empty street stretching in both directions, "let's enjoy the open space."
He tilted his head back, letting the rain wash over his face before snapping it forward again, droplets scattering outward.
His four eyes locked onto them.
"Now," he asked pleasantly, flexing his clawed fingers as cursed energy began to coil subtly around him, "shall we begin?"
Rain fell steadily now, a cool curtain that blurred the streetlights into hazy halos. Water gathered along the gutters and reflected the fractured skyline, turning the empty road into a trembling mirror. Thunder rolled again, low and distant, as if the storm itself were drawing closer to witness what came next.
Freed and Dohnaseek attacked together.
Freed rushed forward first, boots splashing through shallow puddles as he brought his sword down in a sharp diagonal arc. The steel hissed through the rain toward Sukuna's shoulder.
He shifted slightly to the side. The blade passed within inches of him, cutting nothing but air. He didn't remove his hands from his pockets. His expression barely changed.
Freed pivoted smoothly into another swing, faster this time, aiming for Sukuna's midsection.
Sukuna leaned back just enough for the edge to pass in front of him, rain droplets scattering around the blade. He exhaled softly, almost bored.
Behind him, the air cracked with holy energy.
Dohnaseek descended from above, spear blazing in his grasp as he drove it downward toward Sukuna's back. The lance cut through the storm like a streak of lightning.
Without turning, Sukuna shifted his stance again, allowing the weapon to strike only pavement. The impact burst apart a section of asphalt, sending fragments skittering across the wet street.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to be impressed? Come on, you can do better."
Freed scowled and stepped back, drawing his sawed-off double barrel. He fired several shots in rapid succession. The muzzle flashes flared bright against the rain-darkened street, each round humming faintly with holy energy.
To Sukuna, the bullets might as well have been drifting through syrup.
He tilted his head once. A round passed harmlessly by. He shifted again, stepping slightly aside as another streaked past his shoulder. His movements were minimal, efficient—barely enough to avoid each shot.
Dohnaseek lunged once more, this time thrusting his spear forward with precision. Sukuna raised a hand at the last second. The weapon pierced through his palm, divine light flaring brightly on contact.
Smoke curled faintly where holy power met cursed energy. Sukuna's fingers closed around the fallen's fist holding it like a vice.
The Fallen tried to pull away, but Sukuna's grip tightened, locking him in place. Slowly, Sukuna drew the fallen angel closer until they stood nearly face to face.
The King of Curses smiled—not angrily, but with unsettling amusement.
"More! Show me more!" he shouted excitedly.
He snapped his head forward in a sudden motion. The impact forced Dohnaseek backward, breaking his balance. Before he could recover, Sukuna pivoted sharply and delivered a powerful spinning kick that sent the fallen angel crashing across the street. Dohnaseek struck a nearby building, disappearing through a burst of dust and fractured concrete.
Sukuna turned back toward Freed.
Freed had already placed both hands against the pavement, chanting quickly under his breath. A glowing yellow sigil formed beneath Sukuna's feet, radiant even against the darkened street.
"Pillar of Judgment!"
A towering column of holy light erupted upward, engulfing Sukuna completely. The rain hissed into steam as it touched the beam. The brilliance washed the street in blinding gold, rattling nearby windows and shaking loose debris.
Freed stepped back, breathing hard as the light roared. Then, it slowly faded. Smoke drifted from the scorched pavement where Sukuna had stood.
Freed allowed himself a thin smile. "Ha! Burned him all away—"
"Not quite." The voice came from directly behind him.
Freed froze. His shadow stretched unnaturally along the wet ground behind him, shifting against the direction of the streetlight. It rose upward, separating from the pavement as though peeling away.
Sukuna stepped out of it. Faint marks from the holy pillar still lingered across his skin, but they were already fading, healing steadily.
"Now that kinda hurt," he remarked.
Freed spun and slashed in a wide arc toward Sukuna's neck. Sukuna caught his wrist mid-swing.
The air around his fingers shimmered. "Cleave."
A sharp distortion rippled outward. Freed cried out as his arm was bisected, his sword clattering across the ground. He staggered backward, clutching his injured arm, shock and pain overtaking his earlier confidence.
Sukuna tossed the dismembered arm aside like trash.
"That last one had some bite," he remarked casually, glancing at the last of the fading burn marks along his torso. "But still not enough."
Freed struggled to steady himself, breathing uneven, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He tried to step forward again, but his balance faltered.
Sukuna frowned slightly.
"Get up," he ordered. "We're not finished."
Freed attempted to stand, but his strength was clearly failing him; blood loss and trauma were taking their toll.
Sukuna clicked his tongue in mild annoyance and began walking toward him then a sudden rush of air interrupted him. Dohnaseek burst back into view, wings beating hard despite visible strain. His spear reformed in a flash of radiant light as he dove toward Sukuna once more.
Sukuna's eyes brightened.
He flipped backward smoothly, the spear passing through the space where his chest had been moments earlier. Landing lightly behind Dohnaseek, he grabbed the fallen angel by the collar and used the momentum to slam him down into the rain-slick street.
The impact cracked the pavement. Before Dohnaseek could react, Sukuna lifted him again and hurled him down the block. The fallen angel crashed through a billboard, sending fragments of plastic and wood everywhere.
Freed, seeing the monster distracted, rushed forward trying to blindside him, only to be struck by a backhand that sent him flying into a nearby wall. Bricks fractured under the force as Freed collapsed and slid down.
Sukuna glanced over at him briefly.
"Stay," he said calmly. "I'll be right back."
He bent his knees and launched upward, cracking the asphalt beneath his feet as he shot into the air.
Wind howled between the towers as Dohnaseek spiraled through open air, rain scattering from his feathers in uneven bursts. His vision blurred from the earlier impacts, the city below tilting and swaying as he struggled to stabilize himself. One wing faltered before snapping wide again, catching enough air to halt his descent.
He hovered unsteadily, chest rising and falling hard. For a split second, there was nothing around him but wind and rain.
Then something moved in the corner of his vision. A pink blur.
He came in fast—too fast to track properly. The kick landed squarely, folding Dohnaseek midair and launching him sideways into the glass face of a nearby skyscraper. The windows exploded inward as he crashed through, tumbling into the darkened interior.
Sukuna followed without hesitation.
Inside, office desks and cubicle walls shattered as Dohnaseek rolled across the polished floor. Papers burst into the air like startled birds. Fluorescent lights flickered violently before going dark. The only illumination came from lightning flashing through broken windows.
Dohnaseek barely regained his footing before Sukuna was there again.
A sharp upward soccer kick caught him in the ribs, launching him up through the ceiling. Concrete and steel gave way as he was driven upward floor after floor, smashing through each level in a rising column of debris.
He burst through the rooftop. Dohnaseek hovered weakly in the middle of the sky beneath the full moon, wings trembling. His breathing was ragged now. One wing dipped lower than the other, refusing to respond properly.
"So this is how Lady Raynare died," he thought, shocked by the overwhelming power.
Sukuna appeared in front of him again—no rush of wind, no warning—just there. His four eyes gleamed crimson against the silver moonlight, and that wide, ear-to-ear grin stretched unnaturally across his face.
Before Dohnaseek could react, Sukuna seized him by the head. The world flipped as they plummeted downward.
Sukuna drove him straight through another building from rooftop to basement. Floors collapsed in rapid succession as they descended, steel beams twisting and walls disintegrating under the force of their fall. Dust and fragments followed them like a trailing storm.
They landed in the underground level with a thunderous impact that shook the surrounding structure.
A column of moonlight poured down through the massive vertical breach above them, illuminating drifting dust and fractured concrete. Rain filtered faintly through the opening far overhead.
Dohnaseek lay motionless for several seconds before attempting to move. His breathing was shallow, labored. One wing lay bent at an unnatural angle, refusing to fold properly.
Footsteps echoed softly across broken stone. Sukuna approached slowly, hands relaxed at his sides.
He glanced up at the moon framed in the ragged hole above.
"The moon is beautiful tonight," he said casually. His voice carried easily in the hollowed space. "Makes it much easier to see how weak and pathetic you are."
Dohnaseek forced himself onto one elbow, staring up at him. Fear—raw and unfiltered—had replaced the earlier conviction in his eyes.
"What are you?!" he demanded hoarsely. "What the hell are you?!"
Sukuna scratched lightly at the side of his head as though thinking.
"The last dumb crow asked the same question," he replied.
He stopped a few paces away.
"Stand up," Sukuna said. "I was just starting to have fun."
Dohnaseek's body trembled as he tried to rise. His strength faltered. Panic crept visibly across his expression. Desperation overrode pride. A faint magic circle began forming beneath him—light-based teleportation energy flickering weakly into existence.
Sukuna's fingers twitched. "Cleave."
The forming circle split cleanly down the middle, the light shattering into fading fragments before it could stabilize.
"I don't recall saying you could leave," Sukuna continued calmly.
Dohnaseek's breathing turned uneven. He tried again to push himself upright, but his limbs refused to cooperate. The fear in his eyes deepened as Sukuna took another slow step forward.
"How disappointing," Sukuna muttered. "All that talk of revenge. Of divine judgement. And this is all you amount to?"
Dohnaseek clenched his jaw, anger flaring briefly through terror. "Shut up!" he shouted. "You're nothing but a dog for that Gremory bitch!" He shouted having seen the crest Rias had given him.
For a moment, the space went very still. Sukuna's grin did not disappear, it changed. The edges stretched slightly wider, shadow falling across his eyes.
"A dog?" he repeated softly, almost amused.
His hands came together in a deliberate motion, forming a familiar hand sign. The shadows at his feet stirred.
They deepened unnaturally, thickening and rising like liquid tar given shape. From within that darkness emerged something vast and predatory—a colossal hound formed of living shadow. Its body was sleek and powerful, edges rippling like smoke. Four red, pupil-less eyes opened slowly within its skull-like face.
Its breath misted in the cool air, as it lowered its head toward Dohnaseek. Sukuna tilted his own head slightly.
"Then you're dog food." He gestured lazily forward. "Sick him."
The massive hound darted out—flowing across the ground like a tide of darkness. Dohnaseek barely had time to react before the shadow hound was on top of him. Immediately ripping into his body tearing his left arm and wing off and swallowing it whole before biting into his collarbone and throat. His screams filled the air, but were cut short as the hound dragged him by his head down into Sukuna's own shadow.
The basement fell silent, with only drifting dust and the moonlight remaining. Sukuna exhaled slowly.
"How boring," he muttered. "Enjoy becoming dog shit crow."
Above, sirens began wailing faintly in the distance.
Sukuna glanced upward toward the open sky, then toward the direction where he had left Freed unconscious in the street.
"Right," he said to himself.
His shadow spread beneath him once more, widening like an ink spill. Without hesitation, he stepped into it. The darkness swallowed him whole as he shadow traveled leaving the destroyed building behind.
o-O-o
The street where he had left Freed was quieter now.
Rain continued to fall in a steady rhythm, washing dust and debris into the gutters. Streetlight flickered weakly through drifting mist, casting pale reflections across cracked asphalt and shattered brick.
A shadow stretched unnaturally along the pavement and peeled upward.
Sukuna stepped out from it, hands sliding casually into his pockets as though he had taken a short walk. His eyes scanned the street with mild curiosity.
The exorcist was gone.
Only a dark streak marked the pavement, rain diluting it slowly but not yet erasing it entirely. The trail led down the road, uneven and staggered.
Sukuna tilted his head slightly, following the trail with his gaze.
He could pursue. Hunt him down like a rabid dog. Dragging him kicking and screaming back into the open and finish what he started.
Then he shrugged.
"Insects," he said dismissively. "They always crawl back under their rocks."
He had his fun, and chasing scraps was beneath him.
The rain soaked his hair, strands falling into his eyes as he began walking down the street at an unhurried pace. His posture was loose, relaxed, no trace of the sheer violence that had torn whole buildings apart just moments earlier.
He began to whistle faintly, an off-key little tune that echoed oddly in the empty night.
"I'm sure I'm going to hear about this later," he muttered to himself. "That tomato head's going to lecture me forever over a little horseplay."
Despite his words, his lips curled faintly upward. Sirens wailed somewhere far off. Shadows stretched long across broken storefronts. Sukuna just kept walking.
o-O-o
The doors of the abandoned church burst inward with a violent crash.
Freed stumbled through them, half falling against a column before catching himself. His breath was ragged and uneven. One sleeve hung empty and darkened, his remaining hand gripping the edge of stone to steady himself.
"I need-" he began hoarsely. "Help."
Candles flickered violently as a presence filled the chapel. A tall figure descended from the upper rafters, wings spreading wide all six of them. Her attire was as immaculate and revealing as ever. Eisheth regarded him coolly.
"What happened?" she demanded. Her voice carried effortlessly through the chamber. "And where's Dohnaseek?"
Freed struggled upright, sweat beading along his brow despite the chill in the air.
"That…thing," he breathed. "The pink-haired monster…He was stronger than we thought. He-"
His voice flattered as dizziness overtook him. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue.
"He toyed with us. Like it was nothing."
"Details," she said sharply. "Now."
Freed opened his mouth again, but the words came slower now. His strength was fading, vision blurring at the edges. He started swaying where he stood.
Eisheth clicked her tongue softly.
"Enough," she decided. "You'll speak when you're able to actually stand like a man."
She then turned sharply. "Bring the nun here."
An exorcist nodded and hurried from the chamber.
Minutes passed. The air inside the church felt heavier than before, charged with a restrained tension. Freed lowered himself carefully into a nearby bench as two moved to stabilize him.
Footsteps returned. The exorcist who had left re-entered the chapel, holding something in one hand.
"My lady," he said cautiously. "The nun is gone."
He raised the length of a knotted bed sheet. "She used this."
For a moment the church was silent, then the candles nearest Eisheth guttered violently as her aura flared.
"She escaped?" Her voice was low and dangerous.
The exorcist bowed his head. "Yes."
"Find her," she ordered. "Search the surrounding blocks. She couldn't have gotten far."
Several figures dispersed at once.
She gestured sharply towards Freed. "You two stabilize him. I want to hear his intel."
A familiar fallen stepped closer to her side.
Kalawarner lowered her voice slightly. "Lord Kokabiel is not going to like this."
Eisheth's eyes flashed as she turned to her subordinate.
"Then perhaps," she said coldly, "we should correct it before he hears about it."
Kalawarner hesitated for a fraction of a second, making Eisheth narrow her eyes at her.
"Don't make me repeat myself," she said coldly, "Go help search."
The fallen inclined her head and flew out of the church. Despite her outward composure, a faint chill ran down the high ranking fallen angel's spine at the thought of explaining this to Kokabiel. Failure was rarely tolerated among the cadre and Kokabiel even more so.
Within the blink of an eye everything had spiraled out of her control, and she refused to be the scapegoat it all got pinned on.
A/N: If you like this story and what to read ahead chapters 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27 and 28 are already available for Patrons.
Just go to to Google and type in RoguePrince69 and click the link.