A lone figure stood at the edge of the cliff, his silhouette barely illuminated by the pale moonlight.
The wind howled around him, carrying the scent of iron as thin streams of blood dripped from his fingertips, defying gravity as they coiled toward a single, growing point in his palm.
A deep hum resonated in the air. Dark red light flickered to life, forming a perfectly round sphere no larger than a baseball.
But despite its size, the space around it trembled unnaturally.
This wasn't an ordinary Cero.
His Blood Manipulation wrapped around the energy, layering it in an impenetrable cocoon of crimson, suppressing every fluctuation, every unstable vibration, every sign of its monstrous presence. The sphere didn't grow—it condensed. With every second, the energy within it became denser, crushing itself under an impossible weight.
The mountain beneath him remained silent. No eruptions of power, no violent outbursts. Nothing to indicate the devastation taking form within his hand.
Yet, the air itself was growing heavier.
One minute.
The black and red sphere pulsed, its surface veined with streaks of his own blood, merging with raw spiritual energy. The fusion was seamless, almost unnatural. His Hollow Mask amplified his power and further stabilized the compression.
His arm stiffened under the immense pressure, muscles screaming as microscopic tears formed and healed instantly—Ban's Regeneration working overtime.
He barely noticed.
Ten minutes.
The compression had increased a hundredfold. Every drop of energy was forced into the same unchanging space. The sphere remained the size of a baseball, yet its sheer density was becoming unnatural.
If released now, the resulting explosion would reduce mountains to dust, but it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
Thirty minutes.
The air had changed. It felt wrong.
A deafening silence replaced the wind. The world around him had stilled, as if nature itself recognized the aberration forming in his palm.
Gravity itself was bending. Small particles of dust floated, rising unnaturally as if pulled toward the Cero. Tiny distortions—barely noticeable warps in space—flickered around the sphere before vanishing, like reality was struggling to contain what was being created.
Still, the size never changed. It remained locked at the same baseball-sized sphere, yet the weight behind it had reached monstrous levels.
One hour.
His body should have collapsed. His arm should have been torn apart. Any normal being would have disintegrated under the sheer stress of holding it.
But Ban's Regeneration repaired everything instantly. His body could break a thousand times, and it wouldn't matter. He could hold this forever.
And so, he continued.
Two hours.
The compression had reached its absolute peak.
He stopped pouring more energy in.
He couldn't charge it any longer otherwise the Cero would self-destruct due to his lack of control.
The Cero was no longer a mass of spiritual energy.
Even light struggled to escape it. The edges of the sphere were pitch black, yet the deeper core burned with a crimson glow—a dying star compressed into the palm of his hand.
The mountain beneath him finally gave in. The rock cracked, splintering into jagged fractures as an invisible force pressed down on the terrain.
The moment he released it hell would break loose.
"I underestimated the madness hidden inside of you." Kaguya, like an ethereal being, floated behind him. Her divine eyes looked down on the landscape holding vast amounts of population.
"What madness my dear? This is but just an efficient path towards success. Why let small hesitations ruin the long game? I exchanged the location of Grigori from you for a mere 100 World Essence. You're such an exploitable fellow." Tatsuya's gentle gaze peered down in a similar fashion to Kaguya.
"I thought you would've laid low, this isn't like you." Kaguya had not fully recovered, her wisdom, her intellect, and her knowledge were all disoriented.
Tatsuya didn't blame her, for survival, many things had to be considered and Tatsuya would never let his fate be in the hands of others.
"You shouldn't arrogantly claim to know someone, Kaguya." Tatsuya's face, devoid of emotions, remained fixed in Kaguya's eyes, "There are still things you have yet to consider my dear System. What I'm about to do is an absolute necessity—"
All of a sudden Tatsuya froze before he raised his head.
His eyes flickered with a sharp gleam as he flew high into the night sky.
"I am a human."
He raised his palm and looked down at the world beneath him.
"This world full of impurities… I shall cleanse."
A soft voice echoed in the starry sky.
"May Heaven and Hell cease to exist."
A single movement. That was all it took.
His fingers twitched—just slightly—before opening fully, releasing the compressed Bloody Cero.
For a split second, nothing happened. The sphere, which had remained perfectly still for two hours, no longer had a force keeping it restrained. And then—reality split apart.
A thin black and crimson beam erupted from his palm, no wider than a bullet at first, before reaching the size of a basketball.
But it was not the size that mattered…
It was the force.
The air around it imploded, collapsing inward as the Cero ripped through the atmosphere at speeds that should have been impossible. The sheer gravitational pull of the compressed energy caused the clouds in the night sky to spiral violently, forming a swirling vortex that followed the beam's trajectory.
It took less than a second to reach Grigori.
…
Deep Underground, Beneath a Supposedly Abandoned Industrial Complex
The research facility was alive with activity. Rows of computers displayed holographic projections, analyzing Sacred Gears, tracking supernatural energy fluctuations, and monitoring faction movements across the world. Fallen Angels and human researchers moved between terminals, their voices murmuring in hushed conversations.
Then the alarms screamed.
A sharp, high-pitched wail tore through the facility, cutting through the noise like a blade.
Red lights flashed. Screens flickered.
"What the hell is that!?"
One of the scientists, a younger Fallen Angel with only four wings, froze as a massive spike in energy readings flooded his monitor. Numbers surged past readable levels, climbing exponentially. The system couldn't keep up.
A different researcher slammed his hands against the console. "Energy levels exceeding all known supernatural thresholds—this isn't a natural event!"
"Is it a Longinus attack?!" someone shouted.
No answer. Because no one knew.
Then came the external cameras.
A blurry, grainy image appeared on the main screen—a streak of crimson and black light tearing through the night sky like an executioner's blade.
Azazel had lived for thousands of years. He had seen wars, betrayals, gods fall and devils rise. He had survived the Great War, outlived even some of Heaven's original leaders.
And yet—this?
He had never seen this.
The energy readings were wrong. They weren't just high—they were impossible.
It was not the amount of power that horrified him.
It was the fact that such a vast amount of energy was gathered without a trace!
The screens in front of him glitched, static cutting through the data feeds as his researchers screamed over each other.
"Governor-General! The energy output is still climbing—this isn't normal, it's—"
"We have incoming! Direct hit in one seco—"
Then the monitors exploded.
The last thing Azazel saw before the screens went dark was a streak of black and red light descending from the sky like divine punishment.
His mind snapped into action.
"GET OUT!" he roared, his wings flaring open as he grabbed the nearest scientist and shoved him toward the emergency exits.
Fallen Angels scrambled for the corridors, wings beating furiously as they rushed toward the underground evacuation routes—but it was already too late.
The Cero struck.
For a fraction of a second—there was silence.
An invisible barrier appeared covered with countless magic circles.
But…
Crack!
…
Baraqiel was not a weakling.
He was one of the strongest warriors in Grigori, a fallen warrior of Heaven who had fought in countless battles. His body bore the scars of divine and demonic weapons alike.
But the moment he felt the pressure descend from the heavens, he knew.
"We are going to die."
The words escaped his lips before he could stop them.
His subordinates—dozens of warriors, soldiers, and researchers—looked at him in terror. Some had already drawn their weapons as if preparing for an enemy they couldn't see.
"Shuri forgive me… Akeno, my lovely daughter, if... if only I could see you onc—"
He didn't get to finish.
His words barely left his mouth when the Cero struck—!
Silence.
There was no explosion. Not at first.
The beam pierced the earth in absolute silence, sinking into the ground like a drill made of raw death. The moment it made contact—the entire landscape trembled.
The surrounding forests didn't burn. They ceased to exist.
The mountain above the Grigori base detonated from the inside out, not because of an explosion, but because the very space within it collapsed. The air itself seemed to shatter, forming cracks of pure darkness that expanded outward before crumbling into nothingness.
Then—it erupted.
The energy, compressed to its absolute limit for two hours, finally expanded.
A split second later—sound returned.
BOOOOM!!!
A roar, deeper and more violent than any natural force, erupted from the epicenter. A shockwave of pure force flattened everything for miles in an instant. Entire sections of the ground were peeled away, as if an invisible hand had scraped the surface of the world clean.
The underground base—Grigori's heart, its research, its leaders, its history—was swallowed whole.
For a moment, the Fallen Angels inside saw nothing but light.
Those closest to the impact were vaporized instantly, bodies reduced to specks of dust before they could even scream.
Those further away felt their skin sear away, their bones fracture, their wings catch fire.
Then the base itself collapsed.
Steel beams, reinforced magical walls, entire levels of underground structures folded inward before being obliterated completely. The research labs, the storage chambers, the command center—all of it ceased to be.
Grigori was gone.
…
The shockwave reached as far as the outskirts of human cities, causing buildings to tremble, glass to shatter, and electronics to fail.
A crater, miles wide, replaced what was once Grigori. It was as if something had taken a massive bite out of the land itself.
There were no bodies left. No wreckage. No survivors. Just an empty void where a faction once stood.
The world would notice.
For the people of Japan, it was a night like any other.
The neon glow of Tokyo's skyline burned against the darkened sky, traffic streamed through city streets, and thousands of lights flickered inside homes, businesses, and skyscrapers.
Then, at exactly 2:16 AM, the world changed.
It began with a pressure. Not a sound, not an explosion—just a deep, suffocating weight that crushed against the atmosphere. Birds froze mid-flight, animals screamed and bolted as their instincts recognized something unnatural.
Then—the sky lit up.
From the distant horizon, a pillar of black and crimson energy descended from the heavens, expanding at an impossible rate. The clouds twisted violently, spiraling inward toward the epicenter, forming a black void where the stars had once been.
Then—the earth shook.
Tokyo Tower rattled, its steel frame groaning. Skyscrapers swayed, glass windows vibrating so violently that some burst outward, sending shards of glass cascading onto the streets below.
People woke up gasping, their breath stolen by the sudden pressure in the air. Car alarms wailed. Emergency sirens blared across the cities, triggered by seismic readings off the charts.
In Kyoto, monks at a Shinto shrine collapsed to the ground, clutching their chests as they felt a presence that should not exist.
In Osaka, the waters of the bay receded unnaturally, before surging back in a rogue tidal wave that crashed against the docks.
And in Kuoh Town—where the most powerful supernatural factions had secretly gathered—the sky turned red as the heavens cried tears of blood.
That night, Japan bore witness to a rain of blood.
…
Deep in the Underworld, Sirzechs froze mid-sentence as the tremors reached him.
He wasn't on Earth. He wasn't even close to Japan. And yet, he felt it.
The aura that burned through the sky was not Demonic. It wasn't Holy. It wasn't even Draconic.
It was pure energy.
The monitors inside the Lucifer estate flickered, showing satellite images of the red sky over Japan, the shockwave tearing across entire regions.
"Ajuka."
The name left his lips before he even turned.
Behind him, Ajuka Beelzebub, the greatest mind in the Underworld, was already analyzing the event. His emerald-green eyes narrowed, his fingers moving rapidly across a holographic display.
The energy readings were fluctuating too much. Too chaotic. Too unstable.
Sirzechs' expression darkened.
"Something just erased Grigori."
Akuja muttered darkly.
Both Super Devils looked at each other before disappearing.
…
Inside the highest layer of Heaven, Michael's eyes snapped open.
The divine crystal before him flickered, showing the aftermath of the devastation.
Not just destruction. Not just death.
Total erasure.
"Gabriel, summon the Seraphs."
Gabriel, who had been kneeling in prayer just moments ago, looked up sharply. The gentle warmth in her eyes was gone—replaced with frost.
(Image)
"Has war begun?"
Michael's lips pressed into a thin line.
"No. This... is something else but perhaps…"
The Strongest Angels of Heaven unfurled their wings as they disappeared.
…
Deep within Asgard, Odin chuckled bitterly.
"What foolishness is this?"
A goblet of mead sat untouched on the table before him. Instead, his eye was focused on the burning scar left in the sky above Japan.
"A new monster has appeared, has it?"
The old god sighed, rubbing his beard.
A trace of worry lingered in his eyes.
…
Japan was in chaos.
The human world was left with an unexplained disaster on a massive scale.
The cause of this chaos had long escaped and four of the strongest beings in the world gathered.
Sirzechs, Ajuka, Michael, And Gabriel were the quickest to the scene.
They looked at the devastated surface of Japan and quickly locked their gazes on the base of Grigori. A deep crater had been carved as if a nuclear weapon had been dropped.
Not only did Grigori cease to exist it was completely annihilated. There was not even a hint of any life, only the residue of the holy energy of the dead Fallen Angels.
Michael's eyes were full of sorrow.
"They had once been our companions… Azazel you..."
The air was dead.
Michael stood in the center of it all, wings folded, his golden armor dirtied by soot and traces of energy that refused to dissipate.
A few steps away, Gabriel knelt on the blackened glass-like surface where the earth had once been soil and rock. Her fingers trembled as she touched it. Nothing.
No life. No trace of what had been.
Her lips parted, but at first, no words came. Then, finally, her voice cracked.
"Not even souls remain…"
Michael exhaled slowly through his nose.
"I know."
Gabriel was barely listening.
She was still kneeling, fingers pressing against the unmoving, dead surface beneath her. Her eyes glistened—not with rage, not with duty.
Grief.
Her voice came out quietly, trembling.
"We cannot ignore the humans."
The others turned to her, but she wasn't speaking to them. She was speaking to herself.
Michael's lips parted slightly, his expression tightening.
"Gabriel."
She stood abruptly, her hands clenched at her sides. For the first time in thousands of years, her expression was defiant.
Her wings flared, light pooling at their edges.
"I don't care about the politics," she said, and it wasn't like her. It wasn't the soft, gentle Gabriel they knew.
Sirzechs exhaled slowly. "Gabriel, you know we cannot—"
"I won't. They won't know." Her voice lingered in the air, she was already gone.
The three remaining figures stood in silence, the faint shimmer of light where Gabriel had just vanished still lingering.
Ajuka sighed, already knowing what she would do.
They all knew why.
Because even if Heaven could not intervene in the supernatural balance, even if war was not yet on the table, Gabriel could not watch humans suffer and do nothing.
Sirzechs Lucifer stood with his arms crossed, crimson hair shifting slightly in the unnatural air that refused to settle. His eyes, glowing faintly red, were unreadable.
"Four million people are dead." His voice was flat, controlled, but too controlled. Forced neutrality, because whatever emotion was lurking beneath it didn't belong on the face of the Maou Lucifer.
Ajuka Beelzebub, standing beside him, adjusted his gloves, his emerald eyes scanning the vast emptiness before them.
Unlike the others, Ajuka had not spoken. Not immediately. He had been processing.
And now, as his fingers moved subtly, holographic magical interfaces flickered to life, displaying incomprehensible formulas, calculations beyond human understanding.
Finally, he spoke.
"This wasn't divine power. This wasn't demonic. This wasn't draconic." His voice was calm. "An unknown energy… Too many variables I can't pinpoint. Very odd."
Sirzechs finally turned his head slightly surprised at Ajuka's failure.
Ajuka Beelzebub was a Super Devil like Sirzechs.
But unlike Sirzechs who relied on his Bloodline ability, Power of Destruction, Ajuka had with his own unique experiences gained an incredibly broken ability.
It was called the Kankara Formula.
This ability allowed Ajuka to manipulate the phenomena that occur in the world by using his demonic powers to fill in the calculations of the natural phenomena. By using a specialized magic circle, he is capable of affecting the outside world in various ways.
Him not being able to calculate something was no short of mind boggling!
Ajuka continued, shifting his hand, and a recorded projection of the event replayed.
The blurry figure with his palm facing the sky slowly became clearer.
It was a tall man.
He wore a long, black, tattered coat with a deep crimson lining. There were a few letters in white on his robe written in Kanji. His long black hair fluttered due to the wind currents around him. The highlight of his appearance was a mask.
A bone-white mask.
The mask had two jagged crimson stripes running vertically over the eye sockets. The mask's mouth was lined with sharp, interlocking teeth, giving it a skeletal, menacing appearance. Narrow slits for the eyes concealed his gaze.
As they were speculating who this individual was all of a sudden their expressions shifted.
Something extremely eerie occurred.
The masked man who had been silently gathering energy on the screen suddenly looked up. It was as if he was looking straight at the three of them.
"I am a human."
A hollow voice echoed from the holographic recording.
Ajuka, Sirzechs and Michael felt a chill go down their spines.
"This world full of impurities… I shall cleanse."
At this moment the masked man released the charged beam of pure energy towards Grigori and the millions of humans below without any hesitation.
"May Heaven and Hell cease to exist."
______________________
A/N— The pure bliss I had while writing this chapter... Chat have I cooked?
You can tell why I was telling you all to wait till 7-8 chapters. The story takes a huge turn from here and the pace of the story will be really really fast while still keeping the characters relevant.
Anyways...
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Hope you enjoyed because the coming chapters will be even better.