Madness: DxD

Incident: Harbinger's Bastion

I clean a blade that's seen better days. It's chipped but not dull yet.

Footsteps.

Y/N: You're late.

Mayday: You sound disappointed. I thought you liked the suspense.

Y/N: Suspense gets people killed. You didn't. So I'll allow it.

I lean back against a crate stamped with old sigils, half-scratched out. Trophy, I guess.

Mayday: The sisters are restless. Word's spreading. Overlords going quiet. Territories collapsing overnight.

Y/N: Yeah. Funny how silence follows screaming.

Mayday: How many Overlords are left?

I don't answer right away. Counting never helped anyone sleep.

Y/N: Five. Not counting a friendly one.

A pause. I can hear her smile through it.

Mayday: They were never gods. Just loud landlords.

Y/N: Hell's full of those.

I push off the crate and pace. Boots on concrete. Familiar music.

Y/N: I'm calling because I need your cult armed. Properly. No more ceremonial junk.

Mayday: Of course you do. And of course the answer is yes.

No argument. Never is. Loyalty like that should make me uncomfortable. It doesn't anymore.

Mayday: But we'll need supplies. What you're asking for takes more than scavenging.

Y/N: Got anything in mind?

Mayday: There's an angel base on the eastern fault. Old extermination hub. Stockpiled gear. Blessed arms. Shields. Enough to outfit an army.

That gets my attention.

Y/N: Angels. In Hell?

I let the words hang there, tasting wrong.

Mayday: They come down more often than you'd think. Population control. Keeps Hell from spilling over.

I stare at the ceiling like it might explain itself.

Y/N: They're barely struggling to maintain stability back home but they send armies in Hell?

Mayday: Yes. They're doing it right now.

I exhale through my nose. Damned Auditor. I'll fully kill you one of these days. Or maybe you'll kill me.

Y/N: Which means the base is—

Mayday: Lightly defended. Most of their forces are topside. Burning neighborhoods. Making examples.