Upon Silver Wings (Sekirei x Angel Reader)

A New Directive

Birmingham, England, Modern Day

The light in the old Red Lion pub was middling at best, the people there within churned the warm air into a great din, and upon a bar stool, a man in his early tweinties sat gazing into a half-drunk pint of bitter. His clothes hung off him, his hair lay in an unkept mess down his back, and beneath his glazed eyes, purple bags sat. It had been a long few years, but at least now he would get a well-earned holiday. Or so he thought.

Then he felt it. That far too familiar shift in the world, as all stopped, and fell silent. He did not need to turn around to know who was now behind him.

"What is it now, Azrael? You promised me time off and I am quite intent on taking it, especially after the last stunt you just pulled. I mean what kind of sadist sends someone into a nest of nuckelavee armed only with a sword and some bath salts !?"

"Well it worked, didn't it?" toned back a voice far too smug for its own good. "And anyway, that's beside the point I've got something that mig-"

"-No."

"Wait you really need t-"

"NO"

"Takehito Asama."

At the the young man finally turned around, fixing his eyes upon a tall thin unshaven figure behind him. This man's eyes were pale grey, as was his cropped hair. And in the left sleve of his suit, no arm lay. This rugged figure was however, somewhat offset by the bright fuchsia suit which he was proudly wearing. No angel should be wearing anyithng that garish. Especially not the Lord Seraph of Death.

"What are you weari-. Never mind. Why bring up 'Hito, he's been dead for years, what's happened"

"Minaka has happened, and not in a small way. He has taken Asama's S-plan and decided to use it as battle royale. He who wins gets to controll the jinki that came with the Sekireis' crashed ship, and hence usher in a new age of gods."

"He has no idea. He does that and half of reality will burn. He needs stopping, yes, but why send me? I'm hardly at full power."

"Well, therein lies the reason to choose you. The Sekireis' winging has a rather interesting effet on angelic binding magic."

"Meaning?"

"If you contract enough of the right Sekirei, the spell that the eight voted to be put upon you will finally be removed."

"Michael will take this very badly. He never likes lack of control."

"I'll deal with Michael, so what say you?"

For a moment, contemplation flickered across the young man's face, before his lips curled into a grin.

"I'll do it."

"Excellent. Now come, we need to be outside for this."

The young man then grabbed an old waking stick which leant on his stool, and walked out of the bar, wincing with evey right-foot-step, Azrael following behind.

"Ah, yes!" Exclamed the fuchsia-clad Angel. "You need to look somewhat presentable, excuse the alchemy."

With a gesture of his fingers, the seraph sent a wave of heat towards the younger angel, and his appearance shifted and reformed. The old clothes which hung like bags were gone, replaced with a crisp black suit, black overcoat, and deep purple scarf. His long bedraggled hair to was fixed, straightened, and pulled back into a tight ponytail.

"There, now you don't look like you've just been fighting monsters, oh, and here," Azrael handed over a leather satchel, "this has the same carrying capacity as a small warehouse, it should have everything you'll need."

"Thanks, I think."

"Right, I'm going warp you over directly, and before you say it; yes. I have ensured the Japanese government won't ask any questions about you. All ok?"

"Yeah?"

"Brilliant. Good luck, F/N."

With that Azrael snapped his fingers. The world pulsed white, and F/N felt a weightless dizziness, before tarmack smacked up against his feet, and the outskirts of Tokyo flicked into view.