"—!"
Yukino froze mid-step, her heart suddenly clenching for no clear reason.
It was pure instinct—an ancient, primal reaction every living creature possessed when confronted with danger.
Tap... tap... tap...
The sound of deliberate footsteps drew closer, each one heavy and purposeful, until the source finally appeared before her.
It was a man—dressed in a way that immediately felt out of place.
He looked to be in his thirties, wearing old-fashioned clothes and a long black cloak, like someone who had walked straight out of the Middle Ages into the modern world. The sight of him against the city backdrop was almost surreal.
His appearance wasn't particularly striking, but his eyes—sharp and malicious—made the air feel colder. When they met Yukino's, there was no trace of admiration or curiosity, only the detached gaze of someone evaluating a disposable object.
That look alone was enough to be offensive. Under normal circumstances, Yukino would have frowned and met it with icy disdain.
But this time... she felt only fear.
"W-Who are you?"
She instinctively stepped back, forcing herself to sound calm, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her unease.
The man didn't answer. He just narrowed his eyes and let out a low, sinister chuckle.
"So you've already started to sense it... Not bad. To think that a mere human could feel danger on instinct alone... No wonder that thing chose to lodge itself inside you."
He spoke as if to himself, like she wasn't even worth addressing. His tone made it clear—Yukino wasn't someone he considered qualified to converse with him.
A chill ran down her spine. Real danger. Her eyes darted around—and that's when she realized something terrifying.
The area around them was empty. Completely empty.
They were near a train station, yet not a single person was in sight. Even at night, this place was never deserted. The eerie silence screamed of something unnatural.
"What's wrong? Looking for help?"
The man finally spoke directly to her, his tone dripping with amusement as he savored her fear.
"Don't bother. No one's coming." He took a slow step forward, smiling darkly. "I've already set up a barrier to repel people. Even the Church agents stationed in this city won't notice anything for a while. As for ordinary humans? They won't come near at all."
Yukino kept backing away, her breath trembling as she forced herself to speak.
"What... what do you want from me?"
The man only laughed softly, the sound cruel and condescending.
"Ignorance truly is bliss. Knowing too much will do you no good." His grin widened, predatory. "You don't have the right to question me, human. A lowly creature like you should simply accept its fate—and prepare for judgment."
And with that, the world she knew shattered.
Slap!
With a sudden sound, a pair of dark wings unfurled behind him—massive, feathered, and black as midnight.
Not the leathery wings of a devil, but the wings of a fallen angel.
"You—you're a devil?!"
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
The man's expression twisted into fury.
"A devil?!" he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You dare compare me to those filthy, degraded beasts?! You wretched human! I am Varden, a proud fallen angel—one who defied even God Himself!"
His voice thundered with hatred.
"To call me a devil is unforgivable!"
Varden raised his hand, and dark light gathered in his palm—corrupted, impure, coalescing into the shape of a glowing spear.
"First sin—insulting me."
"Second sin—being blessed by the same God I despise, and harboring a dangerous Sacred Gear within you."
"For both sins combined—your life ends here."
The declaration came from deep within his throat, like a voice echoing out of hell. Yukino didn't even hear the end of it—her instincts screamed louder than his words.
Run.
She turned and bolted.
But she had barely taken two steps when the air itself seemed to crack.
Shnk!
A wet, tearing sound cut through the night.
Yukino froze. Her legs wouldn't move.
Her pupils trembled as she slowly looked down.
A spear of light had pierced straight through her abdomen, burning and bloody. Hot, red liquid dripped down her uniform and splattered onto the pavement.
"Kh...!"
She coughed, crimson spilling from her lips. The pain didn't even register—just the fading warmth of her body, the strength draining from her limbs, the cold closing in.
She collapsed, her vision blurring. The world dimmed as her cheek pressed against the spreading pool of her own blood.
Behind her, Varden wrenched the spear free and looked down on her with arrogant contempt.
"With that, my task is complete."
"They told me to observe first, not to act rashly... but honestly, who'd want to stay in a city crawling with Church dogs?"
"No matter what Sacred Gear you possessed, it won't matter once you're dead."
His smile was vile, his tone mocking.
"I don't waste time on insignificant humans."
But Yukino couldn't hear him anymore.
Her vision narrowed to a pinprick. The sounds faded. Her eyes lost focus. Consciousness began to sink into the dark.
And in that final moment, one voice echoed through her fading thoughts—
"Do you believe in the existence of devils?"
"If you still cling to the world view you've been taught these past seventeen years, then there's no point in continuing this conversation."
"When you finally witness something that shatters everything you believe in—then we'll talk again."
His words replayed faintly in her mind.
"So... this is the truth of the world..."
With a faint, regretful breath, Yukino closed her eyes.
Varden turned away, flapping his wings as he ascended into the night sky.
This city belonged to the Church. For a fallen angel like him—one who had turned his back on heaven—it was like flying into a den of wolves. The longer he stayed, the greater the risk of being hunted down.
That was why he intended to leave quickly.
But tonight, Varden would not escape.
Because the parchment Yukino still clutched in her dying hand began to glow.
The red magic circle etched upon it flared to life—rising off the page, expanding outward, and forming a gate of light.
Boom!
Before Varden could even react, a blast of demonic power tore through the air and struck him square in the chest.
"What—?!"
He crashed to the ground hard, kneeling in shock.
And then he saw him.
From the fading glow of the magic circle, a figure stepped out—calm, composed, and terrifyingly familiar.
"I just heard from Sona about you filthy pigeons this afternoon," the newcomer said coldly. "And by evening, you're already showing up. Eager, aren't you?"
Varden's expression contorted.
"A devil?" he hissed, voice thick with hatred. "Why is a devil in the Church's territory?"
Leo hadn't even unfolded his wings, but the demonic power radiating from him made it clear enough who he was. To a fallen angel—especially to one like Varden—there was no creature more loathsome.
Devils and fallen angels were eternal enemies.
In the Underworld, they shared the same realm, divided into two halves—each side warring for dominance since the dawn of time. To the fallen, devils were filth. That hatred ran so deep it had become instinct, carried over even from when they were still angels.
But Leo didn't so much as glance at Varden's glare. His eyes were on the girl lying in the pool of blood nearby.
Her life was fading fast. Barely a flicker remained.
When he looked back at Varden, his face was emotionless.
"You dared lay a hand on someone I set my eyes on," he said quietly. "So tell me—have you decided how you want to die?"
Varden's only response was rage.
"You dare threaten me, you lowly—"
He never finished the sentence.
BOOM!
A mass of demonic power, black as fire, crashed down and engulfed him completely.
His scream tore through the night—then vanished.
When the blast faded, there wasn't even ash left behind.