The city below hums like a bad habit. Neon bleeds into smog. I lean on the railing, ceramic mug warming my hands. Coffee's burnt. Still better than most things down here.
I take a sip.
Footsteps.
Measured. Unhurried. Closing the distance like they already own it.
I don't turn.
Y/N: You know, most people knock.
A shadow stretches across the balcony tiles, long and theatrical.
Alastor: Ah, but where's the drama in that, my dear Harbinger of Death?
I finally glance over. Alastor stands there smiling like he's about to host a funeral and a game show at the same time. Suit immaculate. Eyes alive in that wrong way.
Y/N: Balcony's closed. Hotel policy.
Alastor: I am policy.
He steps closer. The air prickles, like an old radio warming up.
Alastor: Now, before pleasantries rot on the vine, care to explain why the lobby resembles a demolished armory?
I take another sip. Let it stretch.
Y/N: Carmine sent a tungsten golem after me.
That gets a twitch. Just a microfracture in the smile.
Alastor: Tungsten? How gauche. She used to have taste.
Y/N: An Overlord possessed it. I caved his head in.
Alastor: Naturally.
He leans on the railing beside me, looking down like the city owes him money.
Alastor: You've been busy, Harbinger. Overlords don't simply vanish unless someone very determined is trimming the hedge.
Y/N: I'm not the determined one here. You are.
Alastor: I noticed. I always do.
I finally look straight at him.
Y/N: Then you already know who's next.
His grin sharpens.
Alastor: Carmilla Carmine. Arms dealer. Matriarch. Control freak. A woman who hides her heart behind her daughters.
Silence settles between us, thick and comfortable.
Y/N: I'm already on her tail after that stunt she pulled with the damned golem.
Alastor: Oh, I'd be offended if you weren't.
I set the mug down on the railing.
Y/N: Thought about asking Vaggie what she knows. Turns out she has an apprenticeship with Carmine.
Alastor: Mm. And the moment you ask, she sings like a canary straight to Carmine.
Y/N: Precisely.
Alastor: Smart man.
He taps his cane once. The sound echoes wrong.
Alastor: Carmine's cautious lately. Pulled back her shipments. Shifted operations closer to home. It would be difficult to track her down.
Y/N: You mentioned she has daughters?
Alastor: Clara and Odette. They aren't fighters. They're Sheltered. Educated. Loved.
I straighten slightly.
Y/N: Loved people are leverage.
Alastor's smile blooms, delighted.
YOU ARE READING
Madness: DxD
FantasyWe are taught that strength is what keeps us alive. So he became strong. Strong enough to endure the battlefield. Strong enough to command men into hell and lead them back out. Strong enough to win a war that should have destroyed him. They called h...
