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Sirzechs Lucifer had stood before gods, demons, and beings that could crush mountains with a thought. He'd seen worlds burn and rebuilt them from ash. But the moment Kaelthar stepped into the room, every instinct in his body screamed one thing.
Run.
The air around him thickened—heavy, quiet, endless. Not the suffocating pressure of raw demonic power, but something deeper, older. It wasn't even malice. It was just... existence. Vast, unending, indifferent.
He forced himself to breathe, his expression calm even as his pulse quickened. To his eyes, Kaelthar looked utterly human—relaxed posture, faint smile, eyes that gave away nothing. But beneath that still surface, Sirzechs could feel it.
Boundless. Limitless. Wrong.
The sensation wasn't like standing before a stronger devil. It felt more like standing before the concept of power itself. Something that existed before hierarchies, before bloodlines, before creation decided to sort the strong from the weak.
For the first time in centuries, Sirzechs Lucifer felt small.
The study door shut with a soft click behind them. The rest of the world went silent.
Kaelthar stood by the window, watching sunlight break through the clouds over the gardens. He didn't turn when Sirzechs spoke.
"You've been holding back," Sirzechs said evenly, voice calm but low. "Even now, you are."
Kaelthar glanced over his shoulder. "If I wasn't, your estate would've collapsed the moment I walked in."
Sirzechs didn't reply immediately. His fingers flexed once at his side before he forced them still. "That wasn't an exaggeration, was it?"
"No," Kaelthar said simply, turning to face him. "It wasn't."
The quiet between them was heavy, stretching like the space between stars. Sirzechs studied him—the faint glint in those golden eyes, the way Kaelthar's aura didn't flare but existed. It was like staring into a calm ocean and realizing it had no bottom.
"What are you?" Sirzechs asked finally. It wasn't an accusation. It was genuine confusion. "I can't sense a limit. Your energy feels like…" He hesitated, searching for words that didn't exist. "Like the world bends around it."
Kaelthar's lips twitched, not quite a smile. "Would you believe me if I said I don't know anymore?"
Sirzechs frowned slightly. "That doesn't sound like the answer of someone who's lost."
"Maybe not lost," Kaelthar said, stepping away from the window. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made the air tremble. "Just… misplaced."
Sirzechs watched him carefully. "Misplaced where?"
Kaelthar shrugged. "Between what I was and what I chose to be."
The phrasing made something tighten in Sirzechs's chest. "You speak as though you weren't born here."
Kaelthar met his eyes. "I wasn't."
The Maou went still. "Then—"
"Before you ask," Kaelthar cut in, tone calm, "no, I'm not an angel, not a fallen, not a god. And certainly not a devil." He paused, eyes faintly glowing. "But I've been all of them, in a way."
Sirzechs couldn't hide the flicker of unease that crossed his face. The energy radiating off Kaelthar now wasn't rising—it was revealing itself. Layer by layer, like curtains pulled back from something that shouldn't be seen.
Even the mana in the air seemed to bow.
"I see," Sirzechs murmured, forcing his tone steady. "So when you walked into the estate, that… pressure. That was your true nature leaking out."
"Not leaking," Kaelthar corrected gently. "Reminding."
"Reminding?"
Kaelthar stepped closer, not threatening, but impossible to ignore. "Every creature in this world remembers what it means to kneel before something greater. You just forgot what that feeling was."
For the first time in centuries, Sirzechs had no answer. The room itself seemed to shrink. His instincts screamed that this man could erase him—erase everything—if he willed it. Yet Kaelthar's gaze was calm, almost kind.
It didn't make sense. Power like this was never gentle. It devoured. It demanded.
Kaelthar simply was.
Sirzechs exhaled slowly. "And yet… Rias. You love her."
Kaelthar's eyes softened slightly. "I do."
"You could destroy worlds," Sirzechs said, voice low. "And yet you stay in one. For her."
"That's the difference between strength and meaning," Kaelthar said quietly. "One fades without the other."
Sirzechs looked down at the floor for a long moment before speaking again. "You could have hidden this from me."
"I didn't," Kaelthar replied. "You asked to see, and I let you feel enough."
Sirzechs gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Enough to remind me what fear feels like. I haven't felt that in a long time."
Kaelthar smiled faintly. "Fear's not weakness. It's recognition."
"You sound like my father," Sirzechs muttered.
"I'd like to think I sound better," Kaelthar said, his tone teasing enough to break the tension slightly.
That earned a small smirk from the Maou. "You've got nerve. I'll give you that."
"Would you have preferred I knelt?" Kaelthar asked with quiet amusement.
Sirzechs chuckled. "No. That would've made it worse."
The two men stood there for a while—one a king of the underworld, the other something beyond even that—sharing the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled.
Finally, Sirzechs moved toward the decanter on the side table, pouring himself a drink. He gestured toward Kaelthar. "You drink?"
"Not often," Kaelthar said, accepting the glass anyway. "But I'll make an exception."
The liquid shimmered faintly red in the light. Sirzechs took a slow sip before speaking again. "I don't know what you are, Kaelthar. But I do know this—Rias doesn't choose lightly. If she's chosen you, I'll trust her judgment."
Kaelthar inclined his head slightly. "That means more than you think."
Sirzechs studied him over the rim of his glass. "Still… if you ever turn that power against her—"
Kaelthar's expression didn't change, but something in the air did. For an instant, the room went silent again. Every flicker of magic, every whisper of sound—gone.
"I won't," Kaelthar said simply. "Ever."
Sirzechs believed him. He didn't know why, but he did.
He nodded once. "Then we understand each other."
Kaelthar set his glass down on the table. "We do."
When Kaelthar left the room, the pressure lifted, like a storm finally passing. Sirzechs let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The walls seemed lighter, the air thinner.
Grayfia appeared quietly by the doorway, her voice measured. "You felt it too."
He gave a faint, humorless laugh. "Felt it? Grayfia, I couldn't even measure it."
Her silver eyes glinted. "Then what is he?"
Sirzechs looked out the window toward the garden where Rias stood waiting for Kaelthar. "Something the world hasn't named yet."
Grayfia nodded slowly. "Should we be afraid?"
Sirzechs smiled faintly. "Maybe. But not him."
"Then who?"
He turned to her, eyes distant. "Whoever made him."
---
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