December 7th, 2024 — Earlier That Day — Osaka Underground

  The dingy bar reeked of stale beer and desperation, its patrons hunched over grimy tables as if physically weighed down by their secrets. A thick haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air, creating a gray filter through which the world appeared just a bit more miserable than it actually was.

  Or at least, that had been the case until Ryuu Hanma entered. The massive fighter's presence cleared a path through the crowd as effectively as Moses parting the Red Sea. Conversation died, glasses froze mid-sip, and even the jukebox in the corner seemed to lower its volume in deference to the Beast of the East.

  Ryuu slammed a photo onto the bar counter with enough force to crack the aged wood. The bartender, a thin man with nervous eyes, flinched visibly.

  "Tell me what you know about this one," Ryuu demanded, jabbing a finger at the image of Varkas. Despite his casual tone, the undercurrent of menace was unmistakable.

  The bartender glanced at the photo, then quickly away, as if the mere sight of Varkas might somehow summon him. "I ain't seen nothing," he muttered, suddenly very interested in polishing an already spotless glass.

  Ryuu's massive hand shot out, grabbing the front of the bartender's shirt and pulling him halfway across the counter. "Try again," he suggested, his smile never reaching his eyes.

  "Look, man," the bartender wheezed, his feet dangling above the floor, "even if I knew something—which I don't—talking about the Seven Deadly is a quick way to end up dead. Or worse."

  Ryuu released him with a disgusted grunt, turning his attention to the rest of the bar's patrons. Every pair of eyes quickly found something else to focus on—the bottom of a glass, a suddenly fascinating wall stain, anywhere but the imposing figure scanning the room.

  "The Beast of the East asking questions instead of cracking skulls? Times have changed," someone muttered just loudly enough to be heard.

  Ryuu ignored the comment, his gaze settling on a thin man in the corner booth who was trying far too hard to appear disinterested. With a few long strides, Ryuu crossed the room and yanked the man up by his collar, pinning him against the wall with casual strength.

  "You know something," Ryuu stated. It wasn't a question.

  The informant's face paled to the color of chalk. "I-I don't—I can't—" he stammered, eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape route that didn't exist.

  Ryuu leaned closer, close enough that only his captive could hear his next words. "The kid they took. Tell me where."

  Something in Ryuu's expression must have convinced the man that his odds of survival improved with cooperation. "I don't know exactly," he whispered urgently, "but there's been talk. Unusual activity around abandoned religious sites. Father Ashbourne only works in places with religious history—supposedly purifies them before his rituals."

  Ryuu's grip tightened slightly. "Locations. Now."

  The informant frantically listed several possibilities—abandoned churches, decommissioned monasteries, forgotten shrines scattered throughout Osaka's outskirts. Ryuu committed each to memory, his expression darkening as the list grew. When the man finished, Ryuu released him abruptly, causing him to collapse onto the sticky floor.

  Outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across Osaka's streets as Ryuu consulted his phone, mapping the potential locations. The frustration of the past hours weighed on him—every lead had been a dead end, every contact either ignorant or too terrified to speak.

  "How the fuck is a bone supposed to protect him from the Underworld?" Ryuu muttered to himself, recalling Takao's cryptic assurance about the fragment he'd given Rei. The memory of holding it briefly during their training session returned—the strange warmth it had emitted, the way it had seemed to pulse with a rhythm that matched nothing in the natural world.

  His thoughts shifted to his own encounter with Akuma and the Underworld, mere days after his release from prison. The meeting had been orchestrated by the Seven Deadly, a "courtesy call" to ensure the Beast of the East understood the new power dynamics in Osaka and recruit him for Akuma's cause.

  Akuma had been as terrifying as the legends suggested—his very presence made the air feel heavier, as if gravity itself bent to his will. But it was Father Ashbourne who had caught Ryuu's attention that day—standing at Akuma's right, his priestly robes glimmering faintly, as if resisting the dark presence beside him. When Akuma revealed his plans for finding and exorcising Lucifer's vessel, Ryuu had refused to join their cause, seeing through Akuma's self-serving intentions.

  Father Ashbourne had frowned then, his pride wounded when Ryuu suggested he was merely a pawn in Akuma's schemes. "I am no pawn," the priest had declared, his voice carrying more authority than expected from his slight frame.

  "No pawn, huh?" Ryuu said aloud now, his characteristic swagger returning as pieces clicked into place. Father Ashbourne wouldn't immediately deliver Rei to Akuma—a zealot like him would want to perform his own rituals first, to claim the spiritual victory before turning over the physical vessel.

  "I'll find exactly where you are," Ryuu promised the empty air, "and kill you."

  With renewed determination, he scrolled through the locations on his phone, mentally prioritizing them based on isolation and religious significance. The fourth on his list caught his attention—an abandoned chapel on the outskirts of the city, once renowned for hosting relics of dubious authenticity, now forgotten by all but the most dedicated historians.

  It was as good a place as any to start.

  The underground chamber felt vastly different now than it had during the exorcism. The oppressive spiritual weight had lifted, replaced by an atmosphere of cautious uncertainty. The candles still burned, but their light seemed warmer somehow, less threatening.

  Father Ashbourne moved carefully around the space, gathering Rei's scattered belongings—his torn shirt, his phone, items that had been carelessly tossed aside when the ritual began. His movements were measured, deliberate, like someone trying to navigate unfamiliar territory.

  Rei sat on the edge of the stone altar that had been his place of torture just hours before, watching the priest with wary eyes. His chest still bore the fading marks of burned handprints, though they were healing with unnatural speed. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, manageable but persistent.

  Father Ashbourne approached with Rei's shirt and a plate of simple food—bread, cheese, some dried fruit. "You should eat," he said, his voice lacking the zealous edge that had defined it during the exorcism. "Regain your strength."

  Rei accepted the food but made no move to eat it immediately. "What are you doing?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone. The sudden shift in Father Ashbourne's behavior—from torturer to caretaker—made no sense to him.

  Father Ashbourne sighed deeply, setting the plate down beside Rei. "Righteous Vessel," he began, the words hanging in the air between them.

  Rei stiffened at the term. It was the first time anyone had referred to him as righteous, especially in the same sentence with the word "vessel" that had plagued him for so long.

  "Wait, hold on," Rei said, raising a hand. "Just... slow down. What's a 'righteous vessel'? You were calling me 'foul' an hour ago."

  Father Ashbourne winced slightly at the reminder. "I was... mistaken. Blinded by assumptions and dogma." He sat down across from Rei, his posture less imposing than it had been before. "Tell me, are you aware of what lives inside you?"

  Rei looked down at his hands, considering the question. "There are... things. People, maybe? I see them sometimes when my eyes change color." He glanced back up at the priest. "Only two that I know about. One has red eyes, the other blue."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "And during the exorcism, you were inside my consciousness somehow, weren't you?" Rei continued, his voice growing stronger. "I remember seeing you there, in that dark place with all the doors."

  Father Ashbourne nodded slowly. "Yes, I was pulled into your mindscape. That bone in your pocket..." he gestured toward the fragment that now sat visible in Rei's pocket, occasionally emitting a faint golden glow, "isn't ordinary. It carries divine power."

  "Divine?" Rei asked, skeptical. "Like... God divine?"

  "Precisely." Father Ashbourne's voice carried new reverence. "Come with me. I want to show you something that might help you understand."

  Rei hesitated, then grabbed the plate of food, devouring it with uncharacteristic hunger as he considered his options. He could try to escape—Father Ashbourne seemed unlikely to stop him now. But curiosity won out over caution. If there were answers to be found about what was happening to him, this might be his only chance to discover them.

  "Alright," he said, brushing crumbs from his hands. "But no more torture, right?"

  "Never again," Father Ashbourne promised solemnly. "I swear it."

  They walked through long hallways, their footsteps echoing against stone floors worn smooth by centuries of use. Portraits of religious figures lined the walls, interspersed with candles that cast dancing shadows across solemn faces. The deeper they ventured, the older the surroundings seemed to become—modern fixtures giving way to ancient stonework, electric lights replaced entirely by flame.

  "Right here," Father Ashbourne said, pausing before an arched doorway adorned with symbols Rei didn't recognize. He pushed the heavy door open, revealing a chamber smaller than the one they had left but somehow more significant in its aura.

  Rei stepped inside, then froze, his eyes widening in shock. "What the hell is that?!"

  In the center of the room, resting on an ornate pedestal, lay a life-sized figure crafted entirely of gold. It depicted a human-like form with wings, the metal worked with such skill that the feathers appeared almost soft despite their metallic nature. Father Ashbourne turned to Rei, surprise evident in his expression. "You recognize this?"

  "Sort of?" Rei said, approaching the figure cautiously. "After I woke up from that assassination attack, I had these weird visions. I saw someone with six arms, and there was this golden figure..." His voice trailed off as he struggled to explain. "This is so weird—how can I recognize something I've never seen before?"

  "Because," Father Ashbourne said quietly, "a piece of him lives inside you. This represents Archangel Michael—the warrior of God, the one who defeated Lucifer in the first great war."

  Rei stared at the golden figure, pieces clicking together in his mind. "So you're saying I've got Lucifer AND his enemy inside me? That's... that doesn't make sense."

  "It makes perfect sense," Father Ashbourne replied. "You're not just any vessel, Rei. You're THE vessel—capable of containing powers that would destroy anyone else. Light and dark, angel and demon." He moved around the golden figure, his expression thoughtful. "Most people think it's about choosing one or the other, but maybe it's about balance."

  "Balance?" Rei repeated. "Between an angel and the devil?"

  "Touch the bone fragment to this statue," Father Ashbourne suggested. "If I'm right, you'll see the truth for yourself."

  His tone was earnest, lacking the commanding authority he had wielded earlier. This was a request, not an order—the actions of a man seeking confirmation rather than imposing his will.

  Rei hesitated, weighing his options. Something in Father Ashbourne's manner had changed fundamentally—the fanatical certainty replaced by something more humble, more questioning. It was this change, more than anything, that prompted Rei to reach into his pocket and withdraw the bone fragment.

  The moment his fingers closed around it, he felt a subtle warmth radiating from the yellowed material. As he approached the golden figure, the warmth intensified, spreading up his arm and throughout his body.

  With a deep breath, Rei touched the fragment to the statue's surface.

  Instantaneously, his eyes began to glow with that same golden-yellow light that had flickered during the exorcism. The physical world around him fell away as visions overtook his consciousness—not memories from his own life, but something far older, far more profound.

  He saw armies clashing across a battlefield that spanned dimensions rather than mere physical space. Angelic beings with multiple wings and faces that defied human comprehension fought against creatures of similar power but twisted purpose. The destruction was beyond anything Rei could fully comprehend—worlds shattering, realities bending, existence itself seeming to fray at the edges where the battle was most intense.

  At the center of it all, two figures stood in singular combat—Michael, radiant with divine purpose, and Lucifer, beautiful even in corruption. Their duel transcended physical combat, each blow sending shockwaves that rippled through creation itself.

  The armies collided again and again, blood that shimmered like starlight spilling across the battlefield as angel fought angel, brother fought brother. But Michael's forces gradually gained the upper hand, their righteousness a tangible force that pushed back against Lucifer's rebellion.

  The scene shifted, and Rei saw Michael floating triumphantly above a fallen Lucifer, who lay broken upon a desolate plain. A single tear fell from Lucifer's eye, catching the light as it traced a path down his still-beautiful face.

  "My return will destroy the celestials!" Lucifer screamed, his voice echoing across the void between worlds.

  "The Lord rebuke you!" Michael responded, his voice carrying the weight of divine judgment.

  With terrible finality, Michael drove his spear into Lucifer's form, then again, and again—each impalement sending shockwaves across creation. As his blood spilled forth, Lucifer reached toward the moon, his expression a mixture of defiance and terrible promise.

  "Soon," he whispered, the word somehow reaching Rei across the vast gulf of time and space.

  The vision faded abruptly, and Rei found himself back in the chamber, his hand pulling away from the golden statue as if burned. His eyes gradually returned to their normal black, the golden glow receding like a tide.

  "Whoa," Rei breathed, staggering slightly. "That was... intense."

  "What did you see?" Father Ashbourne asked urgently.

  "The war. Michael and Lucifer fighting, armies everywhere, worlds breaking apart..." Rei rubbed his temples, the visions still echoing in his mind. "It was like watching the universe tear itself apart."

  "And now you understand," Father Ashbourne said softly. "You carry both of them—the conqueror and the conquered, the righteous and the fallen. That's why you're so important, why everyone wants to control you."

  "Great," Rei muttered. "So I'm basically a walking cosmic time bomb."

  "Or," Father Ashbourne offered, "you're the key to preventing another war like that."

  Inside Rei's mindscape, behind the blue door, Hikito paced with growing agitation. Having witnessed everything through Rei's eyes, his rage had reached a boiling point.

  "This can't be," he snarled, the chains binding him to his door rattling with his movements. "We're meant to bring Lucifer back as the final vessel, not trust this zealot!"

  His pacing slowed as doubts began to creep in. Why was he so focused on Lucifer's return? The question had never occurred to him before—his purpose had seemed as fundamental as breathing. But now, faced with the revelation of Michael's presence, he found himself questioning his own motivations.

  Was he truly a reincarnation of Rei's father, as Leonis had suggested? If so, what did that mean for his identity, for his purpose within Rei's consciousness?

  "Rubbish thoughts," Hikito muttered, dismissing the doubts even as they took root deeper in his mind. He returned to his position behind the blue door, watching through Rei's eyes, waiting for his opportunity.

  Back in the chamber with the golden statue, Father Ashbourne placed a hand on Rei's shoulder. The gesture was tentative, as if the priest was still unsure of the boundaries between them after everything that had transpired.

  "Your first real test will be against Akuma," he said, his voice grave but tinged with newfound purpose. "He seeks to bring Lucifer out of you, and we can't let that happen."

  Rei looked up at Father Ashbourne with concern. "Akuma? Isn't that... shouldn't we not say his name? What if he hears us?" The warnings Kage had given him about the lord of the Underworld came rushing back, particularly the danger in speaking his name aloud.

  Father Ashbourne smiled, the expression transforming his austere features into something almost grandfatherly. "He holds no power in this sanctuary. We're protected here."

  No sooner had the words left his lips than a tremendous crash echoed through the catacombs, the sound of someone—or something—forcing their way into the lair. Both Rei and Father Ashbourne jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion.

  "Stand behind me," Father Ashbourne commanded, his mana surging visibly around him as he took a protective stance. The irony wasn't lost on Rei—the same man who had tortured him hours earlier now positioned himself as a shield.

  They moved cautiously toward the source of the disturbance, advancing through the long hallway that led back to the lair's entrance. A shadowy figure approached from the opposite direction, each footstep causing a tremor that felt strangely familiar to Rei.

  "Ryuu?" he whispered, recognition dawning.

  As the figure drew closer, the candles illuminated the massive frame of Ryuu Hanma, his expression a mixture of fury and determination. "Hey brat," he called out, eyes fixed on Father Ashbourne, "this priest wasn't molesting you, was he? I'll kill him right now."

  Ryuu's characteristic smirk faded as he tightened his fist, muscles tensing in preparation for delivering a devastating blow to the priest.

  "WAIT, WAIT!" Father Ashbourne and Rei shouted in unison, both jumping forward with hands raised.

  Ryuu halted mid-stride, visible confusion replacing his anger. He looked from the priest to Rei and back again, trying to make sense of the scene before him.

  "Ryuu, listen," Father Ashbourne began, lowering his guard in a gesture of surrender. "I screwed up. Big time. This boy isn't what I thought he was—he's not some evil vessel." He bowed his head slightly, humility evident in every line of his body. "I let my hatred cloud my judgment."

  Rei stepped forward, positioning himself between the two men. "Ryuu, I'm okay," he assured his mentor. "He's... different now. Something happened during the exorcism."

  Ryuu's booming laugh echoed through the hallway, the sound incongruous with the tense atmosphere. "Well," he said, crossing his massive arms across his chest, "this ought to be good. Start talking, priest."

  The three stood in the flickering candlelight—the repentant priest, the confused vessel, and the skeptical warrior—each representing a different aspect of the celestial conflict that had spanned eons, now converging in an abandoned chapel on the outskirts of Osaka.

  The bone fragment in Rei's pocket pulsed once more with golden light, as if acknowledging the significance of the moment—a brief, subtle reminder that forces beyond human comprehension were at play in the unfolding drama.