Metempsychosis

Wrote this chapter listening to song of the ancients of Nier: https://youtu.be/nhgEuhL0jxI?si=EiUt05vmvZnglcvvMaybe I had been hasty in my decision of taking Luna in, to make her mine. Oh, I didn't regret it at all.Her memories assured me that. More than that, she reminded me of what I was in the past, of what maybe could have been.Looking at her was like looking at a troubled mirror. The goal was to make sure the mirror didn't become clear, that the image in it didn't become a perfect reflection.Helping Luna was not coming from a charitable place at all. I was a devil after all. Of course, there was something I gained by helping her.Looking at her, I remembered someone who had to leave everything behind, who had to cut all ties to survive, to thrive.In the end, it had all been worthless. Enough money to make nothing truly impossible yet in the end, that person had been alone, alone at the top surrounded with quiet diamonds and crystals, with quiet gold and an empty house.In the end, that person had died alone, no one there, no friend, no family. Wished, that person had that they could spit in the face of the cruel god who gave and took everything from them so many times, spit at the god who ensured they knew fairness wasn't something you should expect to be given even from those you were ready to shift the axis of the world for.No the truth was that fairness wasn't given, it was taken with force, with such brutality no one will ever dare to think to try to take it from you.This is what they had been taught before ironically becoming a spawn of light and sin, the spawn of a witch and a morning star, a spawn of destruction who also gave everything they ever wished for in cowardice.This was the thing with cowards. Their only privilege was regret. I knew that. I fucked things up enough but Luna, she was a twisted mirror, the one who hadn't broken yet, who would never break no matter what.She was like a flower in a desert devoid of any moisture that stood proudly above the dunes that tried to swallow her.I couldn't give everything to the fool who lost everything so many times. After all, how could you give anything to someone thinking they weren't worthy of it?What I could, will do will be making sure that the Moon I had taken as mine would never lack anything, would never wish for anything, fed and nurtured, protected by the terrible might I could bring on the world if it ever dared to displease me.This is what I could do. This is what I will do. She was a twisted reflection, her mind a fissured glass canvas but what had been broken could be mended with gold.My room had already shifted following my will, no spell needed to be cast, my demonic energy following and realizing my will without me asking to.The room ceiling had changed, replaced with a view of the stars, a display I knew was more real than just a representation of the cosmos. This was like a gate, a gateway into the heavens. Wasn't it normal when the moon had always bathed in its darkness?The bed had become bigger, wider, the room expanding so that things would not feel cramped.The closets were open, filled to the brim with clothes from the most mundane muggle clothes to the most extravagant wizard outfits.The girl bullying Luna had loved locking her out of the Ravenclaw's dormitory. If that wasn't cruelty enough, they liked destroying or hiding her personal affairs.Fortunately for me and unfortunately for them, I had memorized my schedule with one gaze and I knew that my first class this morning was with the fourth-year Ravenclaws and Hupplepuff and I already knew how to make them understand the errors of their actions, how stupid they had been to fuck with something that was mine.Oh, how I loved demonic energy and the fact that I had been a shameless nerd. I had so many ideas. The best is that I could do anything, anything as long as I ensured my students got rid of the wizarding world's infestation problem A.K.A Voldemort and Dumbledore would be smiling at me as if the second coming of Jesus.I thought about simulating a Shibuya incident with the only given consign of surviving. I could purposefully ensure they would be targeted by the likes of a certain sadistic patchwork curse.A little trauma never hurt anybody after all. It also builds character. Sometimes, people needed to be traumatized to stop being dumbfucks. I was the perfect example of that. I was totally fine at every level. Me, having mental disorders? Perish the thought.Maybe I could do something else. I could go Meta on them like I could insert them in a fanfiction world like my demonic energy and my memories should be enough right?I would just put them in a fanfiction written by Silver or maybe Arrixam like in an epic battle where just being in the surroundings will result in them being slaughtered or something like that.It would be too quick though. The power levels in most of their stories were absurd like What do you mean you're using a spell using the true name of the Abrahamic god and evocating the Sephiroth?What do you mean your character is potential incarnate and is an omniversal god using boobs to access his true power and yet it is not enough because Adam Mccain or Cain Mcadam or something clearly a biblical reference is unable to be touched by similar primordial powers unless you had true love because true love was a true thing and not only a thing in fairy tales and it was the necessary component to beat the buffed cosmic version of the first killer.Maybe…it was only right I had died the way I did because otherwise, I feel like the brain rot would have been the reason why and it would have been crueller like I don't know, drowning in a skibidi toilet with this treasure I summon Mahoraga bet on Hakari type of shit.I really needed to focus. The one who gave me my powers and reincarnated me if there was truly an intelligent being behind and it wasn't the result of just pure luck was truly sadistic.Demonic energy was shaped by will. I would be surprised if anything happened because my demonic energy felt more like an overenthusiastic dog wanting to do everything to please me but if I slipped while thinking about something stupid, things would get very wrong like a bot playing human answering first to the posts of a writing forum full of degenerates and masquerading as a human even though we all knew their nature weird.I truly needed a lobotomy. Focus, focus Rias. You were thinking about how to deal with Luna's bullies.I could think about this for longer. I had, after all, all the time in the world or as close to it with me being a devil.I hoped, truly hoped I would succeed with Luna, that I wouldn't be another encounter full of misery. Could a child unloved by their parent become a good one?Could someone who didn't know how love should be shown even though they only wished to do so could be a good parent?Luna wasn't a passing fancy I could, should get rid of after being bored of it. She was a person, a child, mine at every level. No, it was wrong. Almost at every level.There was one thing missing from it becoming the case. Transporting itself in the material world, a chess piece floated above me bathing the room in crimson.It looked like a mirage, like something non-consolidated, like a blurry memory transposed into reality.It looked like an evil piece but it wasn't one. After all, I had given up the role of Rias Gremory to Sophia and what was Rias Gremory, what was a pureblood heiress without her evil pieces?No, what hovered above was a copy, an incomplete replica, one that I knew would pale before a true evil Piece made by the lord of the Flies.For the first time since my arrival in this world, I felt a strain on my demonic reserves. It was as if I was being exsanguinated.I could feel my essence waking up from its slumber working to ensure I wouldn't drop dead from the amount of demonic energy I was using.Ajuka Beelzebub was truly a monster. This false piece was the proof of it. I knew I had low Ultimate class demonic energy levels, enough power to easily fuel a giant star for more than a century yet it wasn't enough to create a replica of an evil piece.Contrary to what most believed, the success of the evil piece wasn't due to the fact that it could reincarnate other races into devils.Devils were after all capable of doing anything as long as they had enough power. How many myths existed of devils strengthening champions, giving them talents, abilities beyond the scope of the mundane?No, what the evil pieces did was that they allowed any Pure-blood devil to reincarnate any race as long as they weren't too others into devils so much more easily.Surtr II, the rook of my brother was technically a divine being due to the fact he was the clone of the kind of the fire jotnars, descendants of the primordial Ymir.Even my brother would have struggled to reincarnate such a being without an evil piece and he was a super devil. The evil piece allowed us to cheat and this is why it was a wonder.The evil piece allowed us to cheat without any cost, without any fear of death due to the fact our demonic energy was our literal lifeblood.More than that Evil pieces were elegant in their work. They followed a pattern, a structure. They perfectly reincarnated when one done only with demonic energy could have flaws, irregularities.Imps were the results of devils having failed in the past in successfully reincarnating mortals. They technically created devils but more bastardized versions of the real thing. There was no chance of this happening with an evil piece.It wasn't ideal but sometimes, you had to do with what you had. More than that, this universe had something that would allow me to finalize the process properly.Finally, the chess piece took form, a barbed and twisted queen falling into one of my hands. First, I would use this on Luna.It will change her, make her more like me and ensure nothing even when I'm gone would be able to hurt her.I wondered how it would change her. This was another flaw with this method. You were never sure of the results. You just knew that what would result would be a creature of the abyss. Everything else, well, it was in the hands of Tyche.Secondly, to ensure she would be truly mine, I will use a trope I had read a lot of times in Harry Potter fanfics, you know, those fanfics where the protagonist had five family names, is the heir of the Potter, Black, Slytherin, Peverell families and whatever else the author monstrously cooked.Honestly, I wasn't sure if it was the same exact thing that existed in this world, if things didn't differ. I hope it didn't. Adopting someone in your bloodline the way those fics depicted if it had been available in DxD would have made a lot of people die due the my ancestors fighting for it. The only reason why I was entertaining this idea was because Luna had known about its existence and had brief details about it.Plans, plans, plans. It was said men make plans and God laugh. What about God himself though I wondered? What happened when God himself planned things? Simple, the world spun on its axis like it ought to. Was it narcissistic to refer to myself as god in that example? Technically, I was god thanks to Kagutsuchi.Nevertheless, adopting the girl needed the accomplishment of other formalities. First, there was the fact she already had a father, a father who loved her even though the man could have, should have done way more.Luna hadn't even told him that she had been bullied because a part of her deep down didn't believe he would have been able to do anything.It was a sad thing, the hopelessness a child could feel due to the belief that nothing their parent would do would be able to make anything better.It was like accepting to sink, accepting to suffer, shedding some of your childhood innocence. It was growing, maturing in a cruel way, in a way that shouldn't be but was.Fortunately, dealing with Xenophilius was something that could wait.What couldn't wait was making sure Dumbledore and the other members of the faculty knew she was now mine.I didn't really worry about that. I knew Dumbledore would do anything I asked of him. I could ask him to jump and his answer would be how high.The man was desperate to keep me happy because I was the answer to all of his problems.I was sure that most of the other residents of Hogwarts whether it was students or teachers knew what I had done with Harry Potter class yet nothing happened.No one tried to arrest me, to barge into my room. I had a blank check to do anything I wished for not that I needed permission."Hi," a soft voice brought me out of my thoughts.Luna had fallen asleep moments after I had brought her to my room. It was almost disconcerting how quickly she did but I guess I should have expected nothing else from her.I hadn't fallen asleep, to be honest. I had watched how her chest expanded as she breathed, how innocent and carefree she looked.She was a child. Not only her but most of the people living in this castle but something about her gave me more of the feeling of being in the presence of a child, of someone who needed to be protected."Good Morning Luna," I told her with a forced smile I hoped couldn't be recognized as one. I wanted the best for her but the little problem was that I didn't know how I should be interacting with her except maybe trying to appear more kind, more welcoming."Yesterday wasn't a dream? It was real?" she asked me, her eyes peering into mine."Yes, it was. Do you regret it?" I asked her. Do you regret shaking the hand of the devil? The question was silent yet I knew she heard it."I don't," she answered no hesitation in her voice.I felt a true smile bloom on my face. Well, it already was starting well. I don't think I would have easily accepted a negative answer, not when I already felt so attached. Maybe it was my Gremory side, maybe it was because I was a devil and thus greedy. Maybe it was just me."So why should I call you? Should I call Miss Rias? Mom? Professor?" she asked me, her eyes staring straight into mine.What are we? What are you supposed to be she was asking me. A child? A student? A fancy?Looking into her eyes, into her memories, the word mother only gave me one image, an image of flames rushing toward me.The flames, they were still as if it was a video that was paused. Those flames, they were probably what Luna saw as she thought of her mom. Memories could be fickle.How easy, how tragic it was for a child to only remember their mother in such a way? Pandora Lovegood was gone and only I remained.Even then "You may call me anything you want to," I told the blonde-haired girl. "It won't change anything."It wouldn't change anything. No matter what, she was now mine. She was the only thing I could truly call mine now and I would be on my knees before Riser before I intentionally hurt her."Don't you fear me though?" I asked her. "Don't you fear I could hurt you? Don't you fear you could regret your decision?"I didn't know but I wanted her to be saying it, for the words to come from her mouth "Fearing the future is useless. Whatever happens happens but even then, I don't think you would hurt me. After all," she said a shy smile etched on her lips "Mothers don't hurt their children."My heart would have skipped a beat had I been a lesser being. Mothers don't hurt their children. Mothers don't hurt their children. If only it was the truth. If only everyone had as mothers Pomona Sprout or Narcissa Malfoy or Molly Weasley.Mother did hurt their children and the worst was the fact that in most cases, it was because of love. Love was the cause of pain. What greater heartbreak there was than a child and their mother being nothing more than strangers? There could be no heartbreak without love."Yes," I told her with a soft smile as I pressed the false evil piece I had created onto her skin "Mothers don't hurt their children. Happy Birthday, Luna," I told her.She giggled "Today isn't my birthday.""Maybe not Birthday," I agreed. "Let's say rebirth.""Rebirth?""Yes, rebirth. It is a new beginning, your new beginning, the birth of a new Luna and appropriately, I got a gift.""What is it?" she asked me, her curious gaze lingering on the evil piece."A change of paradigm. You're mine, you're my child." I tried to ignore the warm feeling I could feel inside, the emptiness, the guilt gone for now as Luna, my child smiled."This is more a formality than anything. It'll make you a little more like me. After all, families share similarities don't they?" I also wanted everyone in the castle to know she was mine."I accept," she told me.Softly, I pushed the chess piece and it sank into her skin as it was water hydrating a plant. I felt myself lose my grip on the object as it continued to sink.I tracked it down with my eyes, watching it continue moving through her, toward her soul before plunging into it.For a moment nothing happened and I feared that my replica had failed, the next instant, the world turned red.Demonic energy pulsed into waves from Luna. The girl's eyes were closed and she was sweating as she was having a fever.Space, I needed more space. immediately, my room shifted, turning into an empty plane, the only thing distinguishing it from a complete void were the flowers and the vegetation I could feel under my feet.What I expected happened. This time, the demonic energy of the girl didn't pulse. It exploded from her violently.My clothes burnt immediately. The air itself screamed in agony as it became supercharged with demonic energy.She rose in the air surrounded by a dark sphere of scarlet-coloured demonic energy. She was changing, her body morphing and shifting as if she was growing out of it.From her head, two curved horns grew, from her back exploded two silver leathery wings, astral symbols etched and drawn on them. The blemishes, the little imperfections that all humans had began to disappear.In the false realm, over in what had once been an empty sky was now a crimson moon. It shone ominously like a dark omen, almost like a coronation.With one thought, a dark suit with white, black and red coloured sneakers appeared to cover my nakedness, clothes reappearing to replace the ones I had lost.The phenomenon, the transformation seemed to be finished. Her eyes were closed as she bathed herself in the feeling."I think," she told me as she opened her eyes, identical green-blue to the ones I had, a serene smile etched "This is the best gift I have ever been given.""Only the best for my daughter," I said to her my instincts screaming at me that I was not alone anymore and "Happy Birthday Luna," I the devil wished to my spawn.Now, I just needed to convince her to make the moon fall on her bullies Bloodborne style. No one expected to fight against a lunar princess.*scene*Louis Philip Delafosse allowed himself to sigh ignoring the bad looks the men around him were giving him.This was the thing with them. They were so stuck up, boring. It's as if they were always sitting on a barbed pole.Well, knowing some of them, they probably had been just before coming here. Honestly, he wondered again how everything went so wrong.He had never been the kind of person to be stuck in one place. He has always loved moving, travelling.This is why he hadn't wanted to become the appointed priest of a church, preferring missionary work.Unfortunately, he was 'special', blessed they had said, capable of doing things most would only read about in books, miracles.Louis Philip was born with the ability to breathe into the world miracles through holy words, banish evils, heal the sick and all the other miraculous stuff a Saint was supposed to be able to do.Saint, this was what they called people like him. It was a title he found too gaudy because he was really far from being one in his personal opinion.Jeanne d'Arc, Saint Georges, Saint Nicholas, Nightingale, the Apostles, Mary of Magdalene the Templars the more faithful cardinals and all the Popes the catholic church ever had were saints.The fact that every pope had been a Saint should be proof that Saints weren't really saints.Pope Alexander VI was in his opinion the perfect example of that fact but it seems as if he was the only one to acknowledge the fact that them being blessed, living saints didn't mean they were perfect.Because of the adulation given to Saints like him and them becoming rarer and rarer, the remaining Saints like him were given more and more responsibility and this is why he was stuck waiting in a room with four other people he wished he could have never gazed at.Honestly, he had in the past avoided the meetings by lying, always giving a false excuse but this time, he knew it wouldn't work.After all, they were in crisis. The Pope had in full service collapsed, tears of blood running down his cheeks.The statue of the holy mother, the mother of the divine lamb had cracked. The same night, power, so much more power than Louis Philip had ever thought possible to imagine had surged into existence, bathing the world in its supremacy.Louis Philip was sure that everyone on Earth blessed or not blessed had felt something. To be frank, Louis Philip would admit he was he wouldn't say fearful but out of his zone of comfort.Dealing with the things that lived in the dark, destroying them and their vile work came naturally to him. Killings ghouls and vampires came easily to him.Healing people, making it rain or making plants grow, dealing with the life-sucking paperwork someone of his functions had was what he had expected his entire life to be.There hadn't been any true threat to the church, its teachings and its believers since the witch's burnings.He knew he had responsibility as a saint even though he had never asked to be one but really, how could his luck be so abyssal?He was sure no saint before had to deal with this bullshit. Sister Annabelle, one of his aids even though she was more his glorified secretary more than anything else would have told him that God gave his toughest battles to his greatest soldiers.In his opinion, this was a load of bullshit. The guy was Omniscient and Omnipotent. He probably didn't need to do so.In his opinion, the guy upstairs did it because he was a lazy bastard. It wasn't blasphemy! Mankind was supposedly made in his image and humans were nothing else more than lazy fucks. Only when shit got real humankind tried doing something even if humans knew about it before."You continue looking at me like this and I'm going to believe you're in love with me Cardinal Jean Pierre Aveline." The disapproving look on the cardinal's face stayed the same. The other French Man didn't even show telltale signs of being vexed."You're a Saint, Louis Philip Delafosse." The Saint rolled his eyes. Here with the complete name. It was always the same thing with Jean Pierre Aveline, the cardinal who was the closest to the Pope. It was said everything the pope knew, said or did was because of him. It was said instead of directly guiding the pope, God created the Cardinal Aveline.The older man always acted as if Louis Philip was his son, as if the two of them being of French origin meant he had a personal duty to complicate everything for him.The cardinal continued speaking "You're a representative of the almighty's will on Earth. Being the youngest of us doesn't excuse you from acting dignified. Act in a manner befitting Someone of your station!"The cardinal wanted Louis Philip to be acting as if he shat gold. Each of them here being saints in his opinion shouldn't give them so many expectations to uphold even if he had to acknowledge that he probably could if he wished to, turn Shit into Gold. He just would need an appropriate or close enough Bible verse or maybe a good Enochian-fueled miracle.He was sure that The three other Saints in the room were paying attention to the 'scolding' he was receiving even if most of them seemed as if they didn't.Saints were trained to spread god's will on Earth in any manner which means they were capable of a lot of things.After all, when every wound could be mended, every ailment healed, when the soul could be brought back from Azrael's embrace as long as it was quick enough, training didn't have to have any limits.Saints had their bodies broken and healed in endless cycles to make them supernaturally strong, strong enough to slay the evils in the darks with their bare hands.Their flesh was opened so that Enochian runes could be inscribed on their bones. Their senses were removed from them until they could act perfectly without them, hear without ears, see without eyes, smell without a nose.This is why he could the microscopic facial change on the faces of the others, how the skin of one of them shifted millimetres on a corner indicating a suppressed smile, how the ears of another one almost twitched. The last one, an old woman didn't try to hide the amusement in her eyes as her gaze crossed with his.He would have sighed if he didn't know it would make things more annoying "I understand Cardinal Aveline, my apologies."Better apologize even though he didn't feel sorry at all. This was the thing with older saints, well with most of them he thought as his eyes wandered to the old woman.They expected perfection. They wanted imageries, symbols. What was worse was that they knew it was something easily possible for one of them. They had been trained to reach that ideal.This was why a sigh had been akin to Louis Philip insulting and spitting on the grave of the older French man. Not human, Saints. This had been what they had been taught.Objects of divine will set on the Earth, tools of the heavens devoid of any humanity, only appearing as such to not scare akin to angels of the old testaments.This was the reality of a saint. This was the reality he should uphold. This was a reality he wasn't sure he could accept."Leave the boy alone Aveline," the old woman spoke amusement dancing through her words. "I think it is enough."It had to be acknowledged that it was nearly impossible for Women in the church to reach high positions. Women couldn't be priests, couldn't be cardinals. A woman would probably never be a pope.This is why the woman on the other side of the room, who had shamelessly and fearlessly addressed a cardinal said to have almost as much power as the Pope and made him shut up was an anomaly.The cardinal gave her a nod before finally shutting up. It was moments like that made him believe there could be some good in this world.Ingrid Stampa, the unofficial leader of the Schoesnstatt movement, a religious movement that had spread on every continent, high officer of the Vatican State. Ingrid Stampa, General of the Templars, personal trainer of Saints and the most powerful saint alive after the current pope himself.When she spoke, people no matter their status in the church obeyed. If women could be pope, Louis Philip was sure she would have been the actual one instead of Jean-Paul II.Her harmless smile and her looking like a kind old grandma you would expect to bake you cookies couldn't distract him from the nature of the woman before him.Ingrid Stampa wasn't a believer. No, she wasn't one. A believer had faith and faith was trusting something a deep part of you didn't believe was real, acknowledged as illogical.Ingrid Stampa didn't believe in God. She followed God. She was worse than a fanatic and this was why she was the perfect leader for the templars.This was why she hadn't stopped smiling when she had been etching with holy nails Enochian runes into his bones when he had been five and trashing in agony and pain.The sound of a door opening caught the attention of all the saints Presents. Like hawks, their gazes locked on the form of a man who seemed to be trapped between youthfulness and old age. The man seemed to have difficulty walking, leaning painfully on a golden cane with each step that seemed herculean for him. Flames writhed and moved from his sockets like a macabre flower blooming.The man stopped above the stairs separating him from them. Simultaneously as if filling an invisible signal, they all fell on one knee, their head turned toward the ground, away from the Bishop of Rome."I have called the five of you here because you are the one I know will lead us out of the encroaching darkness. Things have changed."The voice of the pope was raspy as if he had been in a desert without any water for an eternity."Your holiness," the voice of the cardinal Aveline rang "May I ask you of what darkness you are speaking about?" The man had said what everyone and if that wasn't the case, at least, what Louis Philip was thinking.Louis Philip heard the pope a deep breath as if preparing himself to run a marathon "I hope I'm wrong, that I'm interpreting wrongly the visions I received from the holy trinity but I fear that there is a possibility that the sensation, the power we all had felt days ago was Venus falling onto the Earth."Louis Philip sucked out a breath in shock. He Heard two of the other saints gasp. The only ones who seemed to not have reacted were the templar head and the old French cardinal.Theology hadn't been his favourite subject but a saint's mind needed to be as polished as their bodies. A healthy soul in a healthy mind in a healthy body. This had been the mantra.Venus was the star of the morning. Venus represented beauty but also pride. Venus, the morning star had been seen as a god by the Romans, a god they had called Lucifer.Saying Venus had fallen on the Earth was to the pope telling them there was a chance the devil himself was walking on the Earth, out of Gehenna and not through a vessel but in pure divine flesh.Fuck everyone saying and believing god gave his greatest battles to his toughest soldiers. There were battles and there was slaughter.There hadn't been demonic presence, activity since the crusade and even then, it had been due to demons possessing humans.Had demons, fallen divine beings coming directly from the grace of the creator incarnated, there would have been no doubt that there wouldn't be any church existing and this was with demons other than the Morningstar."I won't ask you to fight against such a threat if I'm not wrong. No, I need you for something else," the pope told them. "We need information on the whereabouts of the entity who appeared on Earth.""We need to know if I'm wrong. We need what it has been doing, if it's truly a threat or not. Louis Philip, Georgio, Amelia, it is with a heavy heart I give you this mission.""We are Saints! Serving him is our nature!" the three young saints answered. This was what they had been taught to say, to believe that even if with how his displeasure about the church in general, it wouldn't be something that would change. Saints stopped serving when they died.The three young saints rose in unison before beginning to walk out. They had been given a mission and would do everything necessary to realize it.Over them, the image of the Holy Father bore his gaze on them, the symbol and the presence of the divine seemingly mourning something."Your holiness. May I ask you what else you think it could be?" Louis Philip heard The voice of the cardinal say."Honestly, I would prefer it to be the devil because no matter how unlikely, I know with faith, we will win through God's grace but if it is the other one?" The Pope chuckled."I fear there would be no point in praying after all. What's the point of praying against god when facing his final judgement?" and those words were the last Louis Philip Delafosse heard before the doors closed behind him.