‘Hmm, that could have gone better, but all in all, not bad,’ Momonga noted internally the results of the past negotiations.

After all, he still had absolutely no idea who exactly Rias Gremory and Akeno Himejima were. But judging by the fact that the demons watching them obeyed her orders and had appeared instantly, as soon as Momonga looked into Rias' eyes, and she reacted strangely for some reason, when she recoiled – she was someone important.

Maybe she was a commander of some sort…? Apparently she wasn't too surprised by the appearance of the invisible people, so she was at least aware that they were there. Perhaps she had even sent them there herself to watch the proceedings or maybe just as backup and just pretended not to notice them the whole time? Perhaps she hoped to be able to attack Momonga if necessary, if he didn't notice the people's presence?

On the other hand, these people weren't even strong enough to penetrate his passive defenses – but Rias shouldn't have known that, given the surveillance protection Momonga used. In which case, Rias would have been planning to the best of her capabilities and knowledge and used someone strong enough, by her standards, for her possible ambush or at least emergency defense.

Well, she at least has some tactical acumen on her side, as creatures from level thirtieth to forty were about the same as what Momonga himself would choose as a human shield. At least if he was prepared to retreat at the first sign of trouble, as the ratio of cost to expected effectiveness was terrible – namely, zero. They were completely useless except for the very possibility of the chance of intercepting a strike aimed at Momonga.

But in that case, the plan regarding ambushing Momonga made no sense.

Against a level one hundred player, especially given the inability to gather information about him, it might require either several battles for intelligence gathering, or two or even three level one hundred players. Thirtieth and Fortieth level creatures in this case could act solely in the role of living shields, disposable test objects, living projectiles to disarm traps or for reconnaissance at the cost of their lives.

‘So either someone was using Rias as bait, to gain information about me, or she has extremely seriously underestimated me and my abilities, or from her point of view level forty is strong enough to use against an unknown threat…’ Momonga frowned at the potential implications coming from this information.

‘On the other hand, this is a new world after all, and I’m judging using only simple basic information gathering spells from the past – and I've already come across one really strong being of this world, the 'Great Red Dragon'. Umu, staying vigilant in this case is still a priority.’

Momonga ended that line of thought with a nod, as he sat silently in the classroom as the teacher drone on about one subject or another, as Momonga didn't really know what they were talking about. If nothing else, that meeting with Rias had allowed me to pass lunch without suspicion.

‘Getting back to my other thoughts. I don't know Rias’ identity yet, but she at least has some weight in the local balance of power.’

Momonga nodded to himself, not paying attention as the teacher, who, seeing his action, cheered up a bit as he continued his lesson.

‘And judging from the outcome of our conversation, as long as I go about my business quietly, or at least without implicitly being against her interests, she will not attack me. It can't be called peace, because she will definitely try to gather information about me to find out my weaknesses – then again, I'm actually already doing that by using Pandora’s Actor as a proxy. Which means that this ‘peace’ is precarious – but, for the moment, we've both outlined red lines that no one should cross.’

After another look up at the board, and seeing nothing that he could understand, Momonga returned to something that is actually fruitful – planning his next move. Unknowingly, Momonga’s action, shaking his head, caused the teacher to panic and check his writing on the board to fix the mistake that the newly transferred genius had noticed.

‘Rias apparently doesn't want me to stay in this town for long – understandable, no one wants an unknown near their base, but I managed to convince her that I would just stay within the confines of Miki's residence. Hmm, come to think of it, I wouldn't mind walking around town and maybe doing a bit of shopping. Ha, I'd be happy to get out into nature, something that I couldn’t have done before. Indeed, the opportunity to enjoy nature, I don't think even the rich could afford it in my past world, excluding perhaps the artificial gardens of the arcologies. But here, I need nothing more than to get on a car drive.’

Momonga remembered exactly how he'd gotten to the academy this morning before frowning, causing the teacher who'd caught his expression to falter slightly.

‘No, get me off the wheel, how about a train ride instead? Or even by bus. Hah, but that would obviously require money, and there's no way I can start earning money willy-nilly, especially since it’s against the academy’s rule.’

As it turned out, the high school of this world was something full-time and disallowed any part-time work. And, although he still hadn't received his tuition bill yet, probably because he would get it at the end of the month. Hah, finding an earning opportunity at the moment was already difficult, and now he has to work around the academy’s rules as well?

‘Maybe I can use doppelgängers?’ Momonga thought for a moment.

‘Send them to work in this world after summoning them, to find them proper identities though… Finding identification for himself was already causing him so many issues, to find them for the doppelgängers too would be close to impossible. After all, if this world were anything like his past world, strange amounts of wealth gained would be scrutinized heavily by the authorities – especially for taxing purposes. Maybe he should just make them mine for mineral resources to sell? Processing raw ores into ingots should be profitable enough. But then again, where would I find a seller that wouldn’t ask too many questions?’

Another errant head shake, and the teacher had to scramble once again – how could he have missed such a simple mistake?

‘Hmm, maybe if I could easily find some high paying job in this world that I would be good for – maybe killing monsters? But apparently the monsters of this world were hidden from ordinary people, which makes it unlikely that I could easily find such a job. I could ask Rias, but apparently she didn't really want to do business with me in general, preferring that we both not interact too much. Not to mention that she would obviously start gathering information about my abilities, even if I hid it, some would definitely leak out. This, of course, assuming that she would actually have a job killing creatures that she would be willing to offer me and pay for… Ha, perhaps I shouldn't have done what I did in the end? While necessary, it did sour our relationship a bit, making it awkward if I were to ask a favor now.’

Unfortunately, Momonga's own [Create Body] spell, though it created a perfectly natural body, was somewhat limited in functions – while it was capable of simulating the body's sensations and physiological responses within certain limits, it could not fully reflect its emotions. More specifically, it followed a strange system, mirroring the actions of Momonga's normal undead body and his undead body could not display his emotions, except for rare exceptions like blinking or opening his mouth. In this case it led to the fact that without additional assistance, his new body could only display a small range of emotions, mostly through the eyes, with almost no involvement of his facial expressions themselves. But Momonga could compensate for this disadvantage by manually maintaining his facial expressions, just as a person could smile just by moving their lips, it just wouldn’t show in his eyes.

In his opinion, a wide smile with dead eyes just looks creepy as hell, so he preferred not to show any expression. At least it worked really well as a poker face, not showing Momonga’s inner panic at all.

After the previous night, during which Momonga had worked out several appropriate facial expressions, he had settled on what he considered a standard ‘polite and calm’ expression, and just kept that same expression all the time. However, during the conversation with Rias, Momonga was struck by great nervousness, as if he were sitting in an interview in his former world. And so, while Rias only asked him questions, making him only answer and answer, Momonga himself was unsure whether he could ask a question in response.

So when his nervousness hit its ceiling at the end of the meeting, Momonga, after his passive skill got rid of his emotions, decided to do something so that Rias and Akeno would not take advantage of his weakness. He had issued them a warning, determined to show that he could be serious too. And to do so, he stopped faking his facial expression in his current body for a moment, instead returning that to a completely impenetrable mask before looking seriously at Rias with more than a clear hint of a threat.

And it ended up causing the men who had been standing silently around Momonga all this time to rush forward, defending their charge, almost making Momonga react violently.

Luckily, Rias called her subordinates back before it could have turned into a full-fledged battle. Still, his attempt to impress Rias was rather unsuccessful, and all Momonga himself could do was turn around and quickly walk away, pretending as if it was all part of his plans.

And so, from that moment on, Momonga sat silently in the classroom, watching the lessons gradually go by in front of him. If he had less control of his actions, Momonga would have loved to begin scratching his head in annoyance – that was such a failure!

Hah, well there’s no use in crying over spilled milk, he’ll just have to move forward without expecting any cooperation from Rias’ part.

Still, the idea of enrolling in a school, itself, wasn't that bad in Momonga's mind. He barely remembered what his elementary school was like, only remembering that he generally liked learning – and from a rational point of view, the idea of going to school to get smarter and better at running Nazarick wasn't bad. Of course, seeing that what the teacher was speaking and writing were basically Greek to him, and he could probably learn the language much easier now, he needs a lot of studying to catch up to the curriculum. Besides, by staying in school, he could actually look closer at the human world, escape from Nazarick, and gather more information.

In general, there were a bunch of reasons why in the end, Momonga's plan was not bad.

At the same time, however, Momonga suddenly realized that the school in this world did not provide specific information, concentrating instead on general information. Perhaps Momonga should have remembered this earlier, but the last time he visited a school in his former world was decades ago, and he hasn't even thought about formal education since. Especially since mentions of a school were usually when he came across vacancies of various levels, like ‘high school diploma required’.

Considering that certain jobs required a certain level of education – it would be logical to assume that at the school he could get that very knowledge he needed. At least that’s what he thought would happen.

Momonga doesn’t really know what the teacher’s teaching, but he doesn’t think he’s teaching on how to operate certain heavy machinery, or the complex machination of things that his previous world’s high-level jobs required. Perhaps it is something that requires special permissions? It’s strange how the classes he’s been in have been a shotgun blast of all possible subjects. Why would he even need to learn the reason a specific author chose a red door in his writings instead of blue?

Momonga could somewhat understand the necessity of learning geography and language, gathering information is basic warfare 101 after all. But why advanced algebra and literature?

In addition, Momonga had seriously underestimated the time and energy he needed to spend on school. The realization that he needed to study for a full year, day after day, five days a week, for half the day came to Momonga only when he suddenly realized that he had spent seven and a half hours on school today. Of which only an hour and a half was spent on all kinds of breaks, which meant he had studied for the full six hours.

And that’s only for 1 year! To think that a normal education was supposed to take 12 years…

Of course, that was only half of his regular work shift, and after each work shift he found time to play YGGDRASIL, which meant it wasn't such an obstacle. But to think that every year, eight hours total would be spent on only one thing…

‘This is the most useless and frustrating grind I've ever had to think about.’ Momonga shook his head, forcing the teacher to look away, then, in a slightly shaky voice, continued reading a paragraph from the textbook.

‘Every year, for twelve years, eight hours a day, with only weekend breaks, ha… Why do I have to do this! I don't even like this quest, and I wasn't promised any significant reward at the end! And I’m even used to the uselessly long grind in YGGDRASIL!’

The grind in YGGDRASIL was divided into two types – one that players liked, and one that was rewarded by the developers. If a player enjoyed dealing with hordes of low-level enemies, turning entire armies into nothing with a single spell? Then they didn't really need a reason in the form of a reward to go to the same location and kill the same enemies over and over again. And the one the Players didn't like doing? The developers could promise or even hint at some reward, or Players could accidentally find out about some rare drop and go grind the same boss – even if they didn't like the grind itself!

In Momonga's situation, however, he didn't like the grind, and he didn't like the fact that he wasn't entitled to any significant reward for it in the end. At least not one that he could see.

Apparently, as was proven in his easy admission, barring the surprise of the supernatural presence accusing some hiccups, he could forge documents pretty well with his magic. If he were to use real crafters and maybe by carefully studying the documents of this world, he could get rid of the need to get documents legally!

‘Ha, besides, I can't even go to work properly if I'm completely tied to the school from morning till night – and with Pandora’s Actor gathering information even in my absence there’s no reason to stay. Especially since I've already fully exposed myself to the local faction, while Pandora’s Actor, thanks to my bad luck, was able to slip under their noses easily – why do I need to stay? I could just stay in Nazarick… Okay, maybe sitting indefinitely in Nazarick with nothing to do isn't any better either – besides, with Albedo there… Ha, Albedo, there’s another headache that I would prefer to never have to address.’

Momonga shook his head, and the teacher, who seemed to be somewhere between life and death by this point, finally gave his soul to God and could only murmur something about studying a textbook on their own. ‘Okay, even so, I should stick around for a couple more days, maybe I'll even change my mind about staying in school? And, ha, Miki, I'm sorry for how things turned out, that I accidentally destroyed your life for something I didn't even like in the end, Miki, I apologize very much!’

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

A moment later the bell rang, snapping Momonga out of his musings, whereupon he shifted his gaze to his watch, then to his teacher, whose face was changing between all the colors of the rainbow, attracting Momonga’s attention. Which just seems to make their pallor worse for some reason. ‘Hmm, maybe he's sick? If so, I hope he has the money to pay for treatment – I'm sorry, teacher, but I have nothing!’

Shrugging internally at his teacher's strange condition, Momonga blinked as he realized that his [Arcane Sight] had determined that he actually had magical powers. After which Momonga shrugged.

‘Rias has clearly already made the first move against me…’ Momonga turned away, eager to exit the class and school entirely. ‘So getting out of here soon might not be a bad idea – but along with all my previous actions… Ah, I'm starting to get a headache.’

***

"I'm going to have such a bad headache in the morning…" Miki paused her libations for a moment, looking at herself in the frosted black reflection of the television, before she scoffed and put her hands back on the bottle of wine, swallowing a big sip. "Ha, that hits the spot!"

When she got back to her empty home after dropping off Satoru, Miki found that she didn't know how to live her life anymore. Everything seemed pointless and useless, the world seemed ruined, and where yesterday the idyllic garden of beautiful family life had bloomed, now was only slowly fading ashes. Probably if it were not for a completely random chain of coincidences, Miki would have still been asleep, having exhausted all her strength in repeating the same thoughts in her head a thousand times in a row the day before.

However, Miki had gotten out of bed, and had faced the earnest Satoru as he had cooked breakfast. Ha, what a silly thing to do.

Miki took another large gulp of wine before she tried to rise from her seat on the couch, and found that she’s unable to put her legs under her. She leaned to the side and almost flew into the refrigerator, before she froze and wrinkled her face.

She had seldom drank alcohol – she might have allowed herself a little sip of wine for the holidays in the past few years. But other than that, she had never had a passion for alcohol in any form. She had tried it, of course, and once or twice in her distant youth had drunk to the point where she could definitely be called ‘drunk’, but even so her level of familiarity with alcohol was extremely close to zero.

"Ha, that's right, with alcohol you need to have some snacks along…” Miki paused, after which, putting down the wine bottle that luckily hadn’t spilled even with her rough handling, she opened the refrigerator, peering into it to find her snacks

"Ha, wine is supposed to… What is it supposed to be accompanied by? Cheese and chocolate? Haha, there’s neither!"

Miki's gaze came across the neatly packed dishes that Satoru had prepared this morning, and she hummed sadly to herself. "Okay, the food Satoru cooked looks and tastes like the most expensive restaurant food I have ever tasted in my life. Maybe not cheese or chocolate, but it will absolutely do as an appetizer! Maybe I should have drunk sake instead of wine to make it go together better…"

Pulling out a container from the fridge that contained… something from her morning breakfast, Miki made her way back to her seat, grabbing the bottle and closing the fridge before settling down in front of the TV again.

In the morning, finding herself with Satoru as he showed her concern, Miki felt… Better.

Much better than she had expected – much better than she thought was possible, given her morning.

The trip a little later had been… unusual – the mildest word Miki could use in this case, but it hadn't been bad in the end. No, in a way, it was even… Interesting.

If Miki needed something to distract herself, a car ride at a couple of hundred kilometers an hour on a road jammed with morning cars rushing to work by the inhabitants of Kuoh was exactly what Miki needed.

Then in the principal’s office, Miki found out that in addition to his previous incredible qualities, Satoru is also a genius in about all areas of human knowledge. After that, Miki said her goodbyes to him, sending him to school and… And as she slowly walked home, Miki suddenly realized that with each step she walked, moving away from Satoru, the thoughts that seemed to have receded completely from his mere presence began to return again.

With each step that she walked, each moment that she moved away from Satoru, from Kuoh Academy, Miki felt her past thoughts begin to press more and more into place. About Gorou, about her marriage, about Issei…

About Issei, her Issei, her son… The son for whom she had sacrificed her health, her strength, her entire inheritance on the best doctors and medicine. And to move in with Gorou, she had given up all her friends and dreams. How stupid she had been…

Miki barely put the cold container of food down before taking another large sip of the wine.

Ha, no, of course not, Issei, her son, it wasn't his fault. Gorou, it was by following him that Miki had almost cut all her ties to the past world – giving up her once seemingly wonderful career prospect because he had promised to take care of her. For her to become a housewife, halting her career, she had even stopped talking to all her past friends.

Why hadn't she seen red flags before? Gorou always pretended to care about her, but if only Miki hadn't been so blind… If only she had seen what he actually is…

‘Miki, honey!’ Gorou's voice sounded pitiful and squeaky in Miki's head, reflecting her inner state and the copious amount of alcohol she had drunk.

‘With your health, you shouldn't be working! I'll take care of the two of us, but in the meantime, you lock yourself in the house, don't talk to anyone, cook, clean, do the laundry, and wash – it's a lot easier than shifting papers at work! Oh, I know about how much you wanted to go into the teaching career, but then you'd start socializing with other people – what if you're just like me and started chasing after the nearest man! No, stay home, Miki, you're tied up inside your cell now, where you have to clean up every day and make sure the bars don't rust. Just perfect!’

Miki took another swig of her bottle of wine before reaching for the food container and opening it.

Issei wasn't to blame, not at all for what had happened, but… He was so much like his father. Looking at him, Miki would remember Gorou and anger and pain started to boil inside her. It was not Issei's fault, absolutely not his fault…

Miki could say it over and over again, but making herself not only say it, but also hear it, was much harder.

Miki hadn't met Issei in the morning, and when she met him again at school – he only reminded Miki how much he had taken after his father. She wanted to cry for how low she had fallen, judging her own son for his father’s action. At the same time, she could only cry after realizing that even knowing the wrongness of her feelings, there was nothing she could do about them.

It seemed that, at this time, only Satoru remained her ray of hope in this strange and unsteady world, which, overnight, had ceased to make any sense.

Miki put the eel sashimi in her mouth, and then leaned back on the couch.

As soon as she thought about Satoru, her thoughts, which seemed to be full of unsolvable questions, wavered and retreated a step.

When Miki was with Satoru, when he showed her his caring or poised adulthood, when he helped her, or even when he drove, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding dangers - Miki felt… protected.

Did it make any sense at all? Or was it all a consequence of yesterday's betrayal? Did her psyche, now wounded, damaged and scarred forever by what had happened, with her sanity was already beginning to slip through her fingers, her thoughts began to muddle through? The effect and the cause had switched places, and tomorrow she would wake up in a small room with soft white walls?

Miki raised the bottle of wine again, and then, after greedy gulps of the last drops, she didn't even set it down, instead letting the now empty bottle fall from her hands to the floor and roll away.

To hell with cleaning, to hell with her responsibilities, there were no more responsibilities!

There was no family, no home, no husband, just her, she was alone, an aging housewife who had lost everything in an instant. She didn't even have a job, the last time she had had a job six months ago was as a librarian for a couple of months, because she was tired of sitting at home. She had worked three or four hours a day, two or three days a week, and only for two months… Did she even remember what it was like to wake up every day for work, to go to that – did she remember what ‘work’ even was?

Her world had fallen apart – Gorou hadn't even shown up on her doorstep after yesterday to try to even apologize or explain himself. She'd even gotten a call from his work, so apparently Gorou hadn't shown up there either… And rightly so, let him run away with his tail between his legs – the bastard!

Ha ha, twenty years of marriage turned to nothing in a dozen minutes on one fateful evening.

And in the sea of her shaky life, there was only one lighthouse, seemingly immovable even in this storm – a lighthouse called ‘Satoru’.

Only Satoru had kept her from falling into a meaningless existence that morning, lying in her bed and crying from her own weakness, only he could throw off her silly thoughts. And, when Miki found herself cut off from him – the thoughts returned again. With each step, with each passing moment, the memories began to appear, crumbling Miki's mind. She did not have the strength to return home on her own – her strength had run out a couple of streets before her house.

All the pathetic remnants of her strength were only enough to go to the nearest store and to so many bottles of wine that she could carry.

So, all Miki did when she got home was drink alcohol, pausing between panicked sobs and hysterical laughter, trying to drown out her thoughts for the last… last twenty-four hours? After all, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since Satoru took his first step over the threshold of this house.

It wasn’t so long ago that her life had turned upside down, and yet it felt so long. As her thoughts seemingly slowly break through the lid of her skull, digging into her brain and turning it, along with all her thoughts and memories, along with her entire worldview into a meaningless liquid mush. She could only drink more to dampen the pain, as her head mixed together the seemingly supposed to be always separate thoughts. Husband and lover, son and scorn, Satoru and…

Miki just wanted things to be simple again.

Her seemingly unsinkable titanic of quiet family life turned out to be a cardboard boat in a small stream. It sank not even because it ran into a rock, but simply because its cardboard got wet, and it was time for it to fall apart. The world ceased to have any meaning and everything that Miki thought was sacred, thought inviolable, became nothing.

Miki just wanted it all to end. For someone wise and knowledgeable and full of understanding coming along and telling her how to live her life. What was the sacred meaning of her twenty years of marriage to Gorou, how she should feel about Issei now, how she should live her life now, what was her damn meaning in life?

Miki had once asked herself this question – and had once come up with the answer. Her raison d'être was to be Gorou's wife and Issei's mother, a model housewife and, later, a grandmother.

And, as it turned out, she didn't know a damn thing.

She couldn't even guess a single letter of her reason for living, her seemingly appropriate answer couldn't even fit into the puzzle given to her. And now, as if she were just as trapped, as if, when doing a crossword puzzle, she easily gave an answer, barely hearing the question. Giving an answer consisting of five letters, only to discover that that answer had to consist of twenty letters, three numbers and two apostrophes!

Nothing made sense, everything made no sense, and she was a boat stuck in a storm…

The latter, however, was due not only to the metaphysical storm in her life, but also to the fact that Miki had already drunk enough to not only be considered merely ‘drunk’. She was rapidly approaching the state of being ‘half-dead’ if only judging by her blood alcohol content.

Miki stood up, whereupon she reached for another bottle of wine with an unsure step and in a couple of awkward movements pulled the cork with a corkscrew before taking another sip.

Gorou was out of her life, she didn't want to see Issei, and Miki had never believed in God.

Miki wanted, genuinely wanted someone, someone kind, wise and strong to appear and solve all her problems.

Miki took another helping of the exquisite sashimi, where did Satoru even find such a fresh fish? As she felt instantly a little better, along with her thoughts rearranging itself.

"Satoru…” At the thought of the newcomer, the person responsible for revealing Gorou’s trickery, Miki could only smile sadly, feeling her soul grow a little warmer. "If only you could help me…"

***

"How… Fascinating!" Issei, Pandora’s Actor, gently treaded the strings of Miki Hyoudou's soul and thoughts, watching with bated breath, as slowly, as if in the throes of birth, her soul was re-forged. In place of the spark of purpose that had burned out in the past, a new one rose, quite young and small, but quickly rising before his own eyes, gradually flaring up more and more.

"Father… I thank you a hundred, no! A hundred thousand times for every movement that You make in this world, that I can make in this world, and I am so, so grateful to You that I can see the bestimmung in her soul."

Issei obeyed his Father's commands, primarily what He said directly – he had studied the occupants of Kuoh Academy carefully for the past day. Classes were surprisingly easy for him, he could always use his teacher's knowledge as an answer to any question, even if he didn't know the answer himself when it came to history or literature, but most of the time he didn't even have to answer correctly. No, he needed only to answer, as Issei had always answered.

Skimming over the thoughts and memories of his surroundings, quite uniform in their perception of Issei, it showed that he was only required to answer what people expected to hear as his answers. Sometimes guessing, sometimes blundering, and sometimes showing unexpected strange wit in non-obvious places, forcing his ‘irrational and unusual’ answers, where there seemed to be no logical connection between the question and the answer. In the sense that these answers pointed not to logical systematic weaknesses or strengths in Issei's education, but were merely a random sampling of possible choices, each of which was quite randomly defined as ‘suitable’ and ‘unsuitable’ for Issei. All based on such fuzzy concepts such as ‘I think Issei knows this’ and ‘I think Issei couldn’t answer that’.

Pandora’s Actor acted to seem as ‘ordinary’ as possible in the perception of all the people around Issei.

And, since Issei wasn't even supposed to pay attention to the progress of the lessons and the questions and assignments from the teachers, he devoted himself entirely to the study of his surroundings.

Mostly, of course, it was all meaningless. All around him were empty stupid people with empty stupid meaninglessness in their souls and heads. Miserable souls, so miserable that they were not even capable of understanding what exactly they were deprived of.

Just as a blind man couldn’t comprehend what it meant to ‘see’, so do the people of this world were doomed to exist unable to fully comprehend what they had never had in the first place.

And yet among the tasteless dust and irritating emptiness there were exceptions, oh so appealing exceptions.

Kiba Yuuto, as for example. His hatred and purpose, all pointing in the same direction were so exhilarating to watch, all the while he put on a facade of calm. A little further along is Akeno Himejima, a magnificent and unique figure. Similar to Kiba Yuuto, and yet so different from him.

Where Kiba should have been a [Holy Swordsman], a road tragically cut off, Akeno was born as a [Half-Fallen Angel] and could not get rid of that stigma. Where Kiba was full of hatred for the world around him – Akeno was full of disgust for herself. And where Kiba was torn between two inner fires, Akeno created a clamp of her own, trying to strangle herself, each time approaching and recoiling from that boundary, walking in circles, unable to leave her own self.

Kiba was a loyal [Knight], Akeno was a loyal [Queen], and they both pursued their goals. Kiba's goal contradicted his loyalty, the destruction of all [Holy Swords] – while Akeno's goal coincided with her fidelity. To destroy forever the very notion of ‘Akeno Himejima, the fallen angel’.

A wonderful, unique being, a magnificent exhibit, looking at which Issei could pull out a new mask, a new emotion and a new reaction time after time. He now understood why his Father liked to collect not the prints of personalities, but their wholeness enclosed in the overall shell of a living being. Turning what would only be paintings in His gallery into living artists, continuing to paint new and new masterpieces, even when the artists themselves became exhibits.

And even more – Issei felt his mind tickle with a pile of thoughts of each new discovery prepared for him by Father. For in His mercy He not only bestowed the greatest reward at the end – but also rewarded Issei at every step of the way as he followed according to His will.

All the more incredible, was to see how the seemingly certain truth of the world about the invariability of the blindness of those born outside the mercy of the Forty-One crumbled under his gaze. Father wove His actions into a single thread, moment by moment, creating a vision for one who was deprived of it, as if in the stories of men making the blind see – a miracle. But of course, on a level that was beyond the imagination of any creature but the inhabitants of the Great Tomb, surprising even their imagination and consciousness.

Father also was outlining for Issei, a new path, a new stage of his play, rising to a crescendo step by step, allowing him, Issei, Pandora's Actor, to play first fiddle in His great play.

For this was a test for Issei as much as it was his reward, it was a punishment as much as a blessing. For such was the will of the Greatest Supreme Being that determined the very meaning of these words and concepts, just as the lesser beings determined only one of them for each of their decisions.

Now Issei saw what his Father was doing, and what role Miki played in His great infinite play. Why she had ascended the stage, and how she would be exalted by His will, and how she would be brought down if it were His whim.

In other words, Issei saw both his role and his path…

"Father!" Issei smiled, exultant – inwardly, of course, he would not fail to play his part. "Your faithful son will play the part assigned to him, as You have decided then, and will turn the audience into actors and the actors into stars. For Thou hast already taken the actress from her two-person little street box and raised her to the great stage before the eyes of the world. And all that remains to me is to act in Your will and grant her those lines that she will have to utter. To see if she is worthy to be the one standing on that stage, or to be rejected as talentless."

"Father, please look at me as I enact your will!" Issei could not restrain himself, responding with a high military salute before reporting back to his Father, all-seeing eye.

"Vater mit uns!"