The street glows. Neon signs flicker, arguing with each other. I walk. Carmine walks beside me, posture perfect, coat immaculate despite the blood that hasn't quite finished drying on my knuckles.
Y/N: You're quiet.
Carmine: I'm always quiet.
Y/N: No. This is extra quiet. The kind that means you're thinking.
She glances at me sideways. One eyebrow lifts a fraction.
Carmine: You annihilated the Overlords in days. I'm allowed a moment.
Y/N: They were sloppy.
Carmine: They ruled Hell.
Y/N: That explains it.
She exhales. Not a laugh. But close.
Carmine: You really don't see it, do you?
Y/N: See what?
Carmine: What you did.
Y/N: I removed obstacles.
We pass a storefront with shattered glass. A demon scurries away when it notices us. Carmine watches it go.
Carmine: You reshaped the hierarchy of Hell. Permanently.
Y/N: I'm kind of an expert at this point.
This time she actually smiles.
Carmine: You're impossible.
Y/N: Yet alive.
She hums, amused despite herself.
Carmine: I suppose loyalty does come with occupational hazards.
Y/N: You could've left. I wouldn't have followed you.
Carmine: I chose not to.
Y/N: That was your first mistake.
Carmine: I've made worse.
Y/N: Hold it. Why are the signs off?
Carmine: That's irregular. They're never off.
We stop. Something is wrong. The neon signs of the hotel are off and I can hear a group of people waiting inside.
Y/N: I smell foul play.
Carmine: You're right. Something is wrong.
Y/N: Not for long.
I don't slow down. I accelerate. Shoulder into the front doors like I'm breaching a bunker.
Wood explodes inward. Splinters scatter. I step through smoke and dust, weapon up—
Y/N: And nobody shoots me.
Lights snap on. Streamers fall. Confetti drifts like it's mocking gravity.
Charlie: Surprise!
Charlie stands frozen, cheeks red. Cherri Bomb's perched on the railing, grinning too wide. Angel Dust lounges on a couch like he paid rent. Rosie smiles with that polite knife-behind-the-back warmth. Mayday stands near the stairs. Carmine steps in beside me, blinks once.
Carmine: ...Surprise.
Y/N: This better not be a musical.
Angel: Relax, tiger. No jazz hands. Promise.
Cherri: Hey, Harbinger. Nice entrance. Ten outta ten. Real "apex predator" vibes.
Y/N: I was expecting gunfire, not confetti.
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...
