Sona’s message had no ornamentation.

  “Meeting at the Gremory Club. Attendance required.”

  Kaelan read it twice.

  The second time with the same fatigue one uses to confirm a medical appointment they do not want.

  It wasn’t fear.

  It was the feeling of stepping into terrain where words become weapons.

  He crossed the campus still in uniform, his body functioning on inertia. The sky was clear, but Kuoh felt… compressed, as if the air had decided to become more rigid since the bridge incident.

  When he reached the club building, the presence of barriers greeted him as always: discreet, well-woven, the kind of magic you don’t notice until you try to cross it without permission.

  Akeno opened the door for him with an impeccable smile.

  —Kaelan-kun. You’re just in time.

  Her voice was soft.

  Her eyes were not.

  Kaelan entered.

  The Occult Research Club smelled of freshly made tea and incense. Normally it was warm, almost domestic. Today the scent was there for another reason:

  it covered the tension.

  Rias sat with perfect posture, as if comfort were a luxury one allows oneself even in the face of crisis. Akeno served tea with ritual calm. Koneko sat still, gaze lowered, but with that feline silence of someone who had already decided where to jump if something broke.

  Asia sat with her hands together, gripping the cross as if it were a habit she didn’t know how to stop. Kiba was rigid, shoulders tense, gaze fixed on a point on the floor as if avoiding a certain place were the only way to maintain control.

  Sona stood beside Rias, straighter than anyone. Tsubaki and Saji a little farther back.

  Kaelan felt the weight of every presence before anyone spoke.

  And above all, he felt something he did not want to feel.

  It wasn’t his Resonance.

  It was the room’s expectation.

  Rias spoke first.

  —Thank you for coming.

  It was not courtesy.

  It was authority.

  —We have guests.

  The door opened softly.

  Xenovia Quarta and Irina Shidou entered with the same certainty as people who believed they were walking within reason. Their white cloaks were clean. Their steps did not hesitate.

  Xenovia carried a long sword wrapped in cloth marked with symbols. It did not shine.

  It didn’t need to.

  The entire room responded anyway: demonic instincts tightened as if someone had put a blade to all their throats.

  Irina, on the other hand, was smiling.

  The smile of someone who, if she were not holding an Excalibur, might have looked like an innocent guest.

  —Good afternoon —Irina greeted energetically.— Sorry about the bridge. We didn’t mean to scare anyone.

  Xenovia said nothing. First she looked at the room.

  Then she looked at Kaelan.

  It was instant.

  —The pawn —she murmured.

  It was not an insult.

  It was a classification.

  Kaelan held her gaze for a second… then looked away.

  Not out of cowardice.

  Out of strategy.

  Rias did not give them time to impose the atmosphere.

  —Sona explained the encounter to me. —Her voice did not rise, but the room shifted around her.— Now speak. What do you want?

  Irina stepped forward as in canon, taking the role of “bridge” even if she didn’t know it.

  —Recently, the holy swords Excalibur that were under the custody of the Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox Churches were stolen.

  Koneko did not react. Akeno continued serving tea. But the pulse of the room changed.

  Kaelan felt Kiba tense as if that word had been a direct hook to the stomach.

  Rias narrowed her eyes and spoke with the same calm a noble uses when stepping on a mine and deciding not to show it.

  —The “original” Excalibur no longer exists. It was broken a long time ago.

  Irina nodded, grateful that she did not have to explain from the beginning.

  —Yes. The fragments were recovered and reconstructed through alchemy. It was divided into seven different swords. Each has its own capability.

  Xenovia took a step forward and pulled back the cloth covering her weapon.

  She did not fully draw it.

  She did not need to.

  Just showing the edge was enough for Kaelan’s body to scream rejection.

  Heat in the skin.

  Deep nausea.

  An ancient instinct whispering: if you touch that, you die.

  —This is Excalibur Destruction —Xenovia said.— Catholic custody.

  Irina lifted what looked like a rope.

  Kaelan blinked when he saw the object move like a living thing.

  The rope changed shape and became a katana.

  —Mine is Excalibur Mimic —Irina said proudly.— It can transform, so it’s easy to carry. Protestant custody.

  Xenovia glanced at her, severe.

  —Irina. There is no need to reveal details.

  —Trust is tactical too —Irina replied with that stubborn warmth.— Besides, I’m not going to lose to devils.

  Akeno laughed softly.

  —Such convenient faith.

  The conversation was following the course of canon.

  Until Xenovia frowned.

  And everything changed.

  Her eyes, which had been measuring the room like an enemy chamber, fixed on a point with surgical precision.

  She did not look at Rias.

  She did not look at Sona.

  She looked at the room as if she smelled something.

  As if light had a scent.

  —…There is another one.

  The phrase fell without volume, but with an edge.

  Rias did not move.

  Neither did Sona.

  Kaelan felt his blood drop a level.

  Irina blinked.

  —Another what, Xenovia?

  Xenovia did not answer Irina. She took one slow step toward the center of the club.

  It was not a threat yet.

  It was certainty.

  —An Excalibur —she said.— Here. Now.

  The silence was total.

  Kiba lifted his head for the first time with a horrible reflex, as if the body had understood something before the mind.

  Kaelan felt the urge to say no.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  But the room had already taken note of the truth.

  Rias spoke calmly.

  —Yes.

  Irina froze.

  —…What?

  Xenovia turned her gaze, and for the first time she was not looking at “devils.”

  She was looking at a problem.

  —This was not in the report —Xenovia said.— If there is an Excalibur here… it means someone recovered it. Or hid it.

  Sona intervened, cold and exact.

  —It was recovered last night —she said.— After an incident involving an irregular bearer. It was contained and placed under Gremory custody for territorial security.

  Xenovia tightened her jaw.

  —And who touched it?

  The question was direct.

  It was not aimed at Rias.

  It was aimed at the weak point in the chain.

  Kaelan.

  Rias looked at Kaelan for a fraction of a second, just enough to give him an honorable exit.

  Kaelan chose the minimum truth.

  —I moved it —he said.— To take it out of where it was. And to get someone injured out of there.

  The answer was enough to make the air heavier.

  Irina took an involuntary step back.

  —…A devil… moving an Excalibur?

  Xenovia did not look scandalized.

  She looked offended by a reality that should not exist.

  —An Excalibur is not an object that is simply “moved” —she said.— It is a holy weapon. And if a devil touched it, then…

  She stopped.

  Because saying it out loud would make the idea real.

  Rias cut off that line before it turned into accusation.

  —We are not going to discuss dogma here —she said.— The sword is contained. And it will not be touched.

  Xenovia looked at her coldly.

  —It belongs to the Church.

  —It is in my territory —Rias replied.— And while it is in Kuoh, it will be handled under my supervision.

  Xenovia held that gaze.

  Two authorities colliding.

  Not in volume.

  In legitimacy.

  Irina swallowed.

  —Rias… does this mean that… you already have one of the stolen swords?

  Sona answered before the question became political.

  —It means one sword left the normal circuit and was stabilized before it could become a greater incident.

  Xenovia closed her eyes for a second.

  When she opened them, her tone did not lower.

  It changed.

  —Understood. Then I will go see it afterward.

  Rias did not blink.

  —No.

  The word was simple.

  Final.

  Akeno continued serving tea as if there were not a threat two meters away.

  Koneko barely lifted her gaze, like a cat deciding the jump was no longer hypothetical.

  Xenovia tilted her head.

  —Is that a refusal?

  —It is a boundary —Rias said.— You did not come to inspect my house. You came to deliver a message. Finish it.

  For a second, Irina seemed to remember she had to breathe.

  —Yes… the message.

  She returned to the mission, as in canon.

  —The Excaliburs were stolen. One from each Church. The ones responsible escaped to Japan. To Kuoh.

  Rias leaned back with a measured exhale.

  —It seems my territory attracts incidents.

  —The ones responsible are Grigori —Xenovia said.

  Rias opened her eyes slightly.

  —Fallen Angels?

  —One of their leaders —Xenovia confirmed.— Kokabiel.

  Kaelan felt a different kind of pressure in his chest, as if that name were not just information.

  As if it were a nail.

  Sona showed no reaction.

  But Kaelan knew her well enough to notice the faint adjustment of her glasses:

  a sign that the board had risen to another level.

  Xenovia continued, as in canon, but with an extra edge now that she knew there was an Excalibur in that room.

  —We sent priests and exorcists. They keep dying.

  —Then you came to ask for help —Rias said.

  Xenovia looked at her.

  —No.

  Canon returned.

  —Our goal is that no devil interfere in the battle over the Excaliburs. We came to tell you not to get involved.

  The tension drew tight like a rope.

  Rias did not stand.

  But her aura became present.

  —That way of speaking —she said.— Is it a threat?

  Xenovia answered without emotion.

  —Headquarters believes that devils and Fallen Angels may cooperate. It would be logical. It would be convenient.

  Akeno smiled with dangerous sweetness.

  —What an offensive imagination.

  Rias spoke firmly.

  —We will form no alliance with Kokabiel. In the name of House Gremory.

  Xenovia seemed satisfied, as in canon.

  —That is enough.

  But now, with the Excalibur in the room, she added something that in your version makes sense to exist:

  —Even so, one point remains.

  She looked toward the center of the club again.

  —That Excalibur you recovered… cannot remain “unreported.” If it disappears, the Vatican will assume the worst.

  Sona replied without opening any cracks.

  —It will be reported through formal channels. Without public exposure. Without panic. Without territorial loss of control.

  Xenovia held a brief silence.

  Then she nodded once.

  —We will return tomorrow.

  Irina tried to soften the ending.

  —And we promise not to attack anyone… unless you do something really suspicious.

  Her eyes fell, inevitably, on Kaelan.

  Not as threat.

  As human curiosity.

  Kaelan did not answer.

  Because the room had not yet reached canon’s second trigger.

  Asia.

  Irina and Xenovia stood to leave, as in the original.

  And then Xenovia looked at Asia.

  —When I saw you at Hyodou Issei’s house, I thought perhaps it was you.

  Asia froze.

  —Are you Asia Argento? —Xenovia continued.— The “Witch.”

  The word was a stone.

  Asia lowered her head, as if the body remembered the humiliation before the mind did.

  Irina widened her eyes, surprised, and for the first time her smile broke.

  —Really…?

  Asia did not know what to say.

  Xenovia continued, relentless, as in canon.

  —Do you still believe in God?

  Asia swallowed.

  —…I can’t set it aside.

  Xenovia drew her sword slightly.

  Kaelan felt the demonic rejection rise into his throat.

  The room became an edge.

  —Don’t touch her!

  The voice exploded before anyone could stop it.

  Issei was already standing. He had not looked at Rias. He had not waited for permission. He put himself in front of Asia with his body tense, fists clenched, the Boost Gear reacting on pure reflex.

  —Who the hell do you think you are, calling her a witch? —he spat.— Where was your God when they left her alone?

  Xenovia observed him with surgical coldness.

  —And what are you?

  —Her family —Issei answered without hesitation.— Her friend. And if you take one more step, her shield.

  Asia lifted her head, startled.

  —Issei-kun…

  —Don’t move —he told her without looking at her.— You do not have to endure this again.

  Xenovia frowned.

  —A holy maiden turned devil… and still believing. It is a contradiction.

  —You don’t know anything! —Issei took half a step forward.— You don’t know what she suffered! You don’t know what she lost!

  The tension detonated.

  Kiba moved then, placing himself beside Issei.

  Not in front.

  At his side.

  —If you draw a sword —he said in a low voice— you will have to go through us.

  Demonic swords appeared around Kiba like a dark swarm.

  Rias stood at last.

  —Enough.

  Her red aura expanded, not as immediate threat, but as barrier.

  —This will not be resolved here —she said.— If you want to measure strength, you will do it where I decide. And under rules.

  Xenovia accepted, as in canon, because she also understood balance.

  Irina looked at Asia with silent guilt.

  —I’m sorry —she whispered.— I didn’t mean for this to…

  —It does not matter —Xenovia said.— Irina, let’s go.

  Both of them left.

  But the room did not return to normal.

  Kiba remained still, breathing as if he had been running.

  Asia’s eyes were wet.

  And Kaelan…

  Kaelan felt the Resonance answer, not to Excalibur, but to the moral collision.

  THM.

  Only once.

  As if the world were reminding him:

  this is only beginning.

  The barrier closed with a red pulse.

  It was not violent.

  It was absolute.

  The air of the practice field became denser, as if the world had decided to isolate that space from the rest of Kuoh. Outside, the peerage members watched in silence. Inside, four figures stood opposed.

  Issei Hyoudou was breathing hard, the Boost Gear half-activating on emotional response alone.

  Beside him, Yuuto Kiba held his demonic sword with both hands… but his stance was wrong.

  Too rigid.

  Too restrained.

  Across from them, Xenovia Quarta drew Excalibur Destruction without ceremony.

  The holy light fell like a sentence.

  Kaelan, watching from the edge of the barrier beside Sona, felt the impact even without being inside. It was not pain.

  It was rejection.

  An ancient instinct screaming that that blade did not belong in this world.

  Irina Shidou spun Excalibur Mimic in her hand, casually transforming it into a short sword.

  —Do not retreat, Issei —Xenovia said.— If you are going to stand in front of a witch, do it with dignity.

  —Shut up! —Issei roared.— You know nothing about Asia!

  And he charged.

  Not with technique.

  With heart.

  Issei went straight in, the Boost Gear roaring as he threw a direct punch toward Xenovia’s torso.

  She did not move.

  The blow landed…

  and was deflected with a simple turn of the wrist.

  Excalibur traced a clean arc that passed inches from Issei’s neck.

  The air whistled.

  —Slow —Xenovia judged.

  Irina appeared from the side, Mimic extending like a flexible lance. Kiba reacted on reflex, blocking the strike with his demonic sword.

  The clash was brutal.

  Kiba’s sword shrieked, the demonic metal holding…

  but vibrating dangerously.

  Kiba took two steps back.

  And then it happened.

  Excalibur’s aura touched something deep.

  Kaelan felt it even before Kiba reacted.

  It was not only fear.

  It was memory.

  Kiba clenched his teeth. His breathing turned uneven. Images that were not there tried to impose themselves: chains, screams, small bodies gathered around a white altar.

  —No… —Kiba muttered.— Not now…

  Xenovia advanced without mercy.

  —Do your hands tremble, devil? —she said.— Then you do not deserve to wield a sword.

  Excalibur fell.

  Issei threw himself in front of it without thinking.

  The impact hurled Issei several meters back, rolling across the ground. The Boost Gear absorbed part of the damage, but the strike still knocked the air out of him.

  —Issei! —Asia shouted from outside.

  Irina hesitated for a second.

  That second was enough.

  Kiba screamed.

  Not in rage.

  In rupture.

  Dozens of demonic swords erupted around him like a dark swarm, burying themselves in the ground, floating, pointing.

  —SHUT UP! —Kiba roared.— YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK!

  The swords shot forward.

  Irina reacted instantly, Mimic transforming into a flexible shield that blocked most of them. Xenovia advanced through the projectiles as if danger did not exist, her Excalibur cutting down every demonic sword that crossed her path.

  Every impact made the air bleed.

  Kaelan clenched his fists.

  The Resonance reacted.

  It did not explode.

  It tightened.

  Sona took half a step toward him without looking.

  —No —she said quietly.

  Kaelan drew a slow breath.

  It was not his fight.

  Not yet.

  Inside the barrier, Issei got back up unsteadily.

  —No… —he gasped.— I won’t let them hurt her… not again…

  The Boost Gear responded.

  —BOOST.

  The mechanical voice rang out.

  Issei charged again, this time with more control. He struck. Missed. Struck again. Xenovia blocked every attack with surgical precision.

  —You have strength —she admitted.— But you lack faith.

  —I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR FAITH! —Issei shouted.— I CARE ABOUT HER!

  Irina moved quickly, attacking from behind. Kiba intercepted the blow, but this time he did not step back.

  —I won’t run —he said, voice broken.— Not anymore.

  Xenovia frowned.

  For the first time, not out of contempt.

  Out of recognition.

  —Irina —she ordered.— Let’s finish this.

  Both moved at once.

  The clash became total.

  Explosion of light.

  Impact of auras.

  Rias’s barrier vibrated.

  Outside, Akeno smiled with dangerous tension. Koneko crouched low, ready to spring if anything crossed the line.

  Kaelan watched.

  Not in fear.

  In bitter understanding.

  This was not just a fight.

  It was a collision of beliefs, traumas, and wills that did not know how to yield.

  When the dust settled, Issei was on his knees. Kiba was breathing with difficulty, one knee on the ground. Xenovia and Irina were still standing.

  Rias raised a hand.

  —Enough.

  The barrier opened.

  Xenovia lowered Excalibur, though she did not sheathe it.

  —You are not weak —she said.— But neither are you ready.

  Irina looked at Asia, genuine guilt in her eyes.

  —I’m sorry —she murmured.— Truly.

  Kiba did not answer.

  Issei clenched his teeth, but did not argue.

  Kaelan felt the Resonance beat once.

  THM.

  Not as warning.

  As record.

  Because something had changed.

  Not in power.

  In direction.

  The war was no longer a future possibility.

  It had begun.

  The barrier dissipated completely.

  No one spoke immediately.

  The club smelled of tea again, but it was no longer comforting. It was an old smell, like something remade too quickly.

  Issei stayed still, staring at the floor. He rubbed his hands together once, as if he still expected to feel the weight of the Boost Gear.

  He did not lift his gaze.

  Neither did Kiba move.

  He was rigid, shoulders too tense for someone who was no longer fighting. His demonic sword had disappeared, but the intention remained there, floating, not knowing where to go.

  Rias watched both of them in silence.

  Akeno set the teapot down on the table with excessive care.

  Koneko was the first to notice what was strange:

  no one was injured…

  and yet no one was fine.

  Issei inhaled, long and slow.

  —…I was a mess —he murmured.

  It was not a confession.

  It was a statement.

  Kiba tightened his jaw. He did not reply.

  But the gesture was enough.

  The silence became uncomfortable.

  Not hostile.

  Uncomfortable.

  Asia looked from Issei to Kiba, not knowing which one to approach.

  Sona crossed her arms, evaluating without intervening.

  Issei lifted his head only slightly.

  —I didn’t know when to stop.

  Kiba turned his face just enough not to look at him.

  —Neither did I.

  Nothing more.

  There were no direct reproaches.

  No apologies.

  Only that strange feeling of having been too close to something they still did not fully understand.

  Rias spoke at last, firm, closing the crack before it opened further.

  —Rest.

  No one argued.

  But no one relaxed either.

  Following the story really helps more than you think.