#Shadow of the Leviathan

[crabs-with-sticks]

Just finished reading The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett and one of the many things I loved about this book was the way that it represented neurodivergency. I don't think I've ever read another book which has explored that to this depth (granted I haven't really gone out of my way to do this).

Like, Din having dyslexia was really influential to the plot and his character arc, but also wasn't like the only thing he was struggling with. And I loved seeing Ana being just...well very Ana, aka very autistic coded.

The moment at the end of the book (spoilers I guess) where there is just a beautiful moment of neurodivergent solidarity between the two. How Ana tells him that she chose him BECAUSE of his neurodivergency, and how she saw it as a strength. How she believes that the empire needs to be able to work for all of them. Low key made me emotional.

Anyway, would highly recommend the book. Its a fun murder mystery fantasy book with leviathans, spontaneous eruption of trees from the body (not a euphemism), and two very neurodivergent detectives with a very funny and endearing dynamic.

[rifulofthewest]

You can always count on Robert Jackson Bennett to come up with a strange reason to introduce animals in his fantasy worlds

The Founders trilogy?

Gray monkeys who have a "fun" life because humans are shitty magicians

Shadow of the Leviathan series ?

Sloths who are magically enlarged and used to transport things because humans are lazy

I have my own little side quest while reading his books: to find how people torment animals in this particular world

[libraryofbaxobab]

October 9, 2024:

Ok this one's my fault; I didn't pay enough attention. I thought this was part of his other series and was confused when I didn't recognize the characters. By the time I figured out we were in a different universe, a bunch of the mystery had happened and I kinda checked out mentally.

I liked the investigator character, she intrigues me. And the way people have powers-- mostly the physical side effects of augmentation-- is so cool! The main character is basically a human camera, for he has undergone some procedure to give him eidetic memory. Some people are huge because of their augmentations. Some people have combat powers, or construction powers, or engineering powers, or numbers powers! That kicks ass.

So really this rating is for myself, I did an okay but not great job of reading this book.

5/10 #WhatsKenyaReading

[meltotheany]

Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Blackwell’s | Bookshop “And when the Empire is weak, it is often because a powerful few have denied us the abundance of our people.” if you’re looking for a fantasy murder mystery that has a sherlock and watson dynamic, with a setting that feels like you were dropping into attack on titans, with themes of systemic injustice, and discussions on classism, with a story that follows a queer mc with a learning disability… well, i am here to tell you to please look no further in this world, the land is separated by rings, and those rings are walls that are constantly being reinforced to keep leviathans out and the people safe. especially the outermost wall, that is also constantly being manned by a military force. also in this world, people are able to get magical augmentations that enhance abilities – and there is a vast range of different augmentations from strength, to sight, or even memory. this land, these augmentations, and different sorts of technological advancements are constantly changing and evolving because of the flora and the importance of the array of plant life on this land. also, this story takes place right on the cusp of the wet season, where the land is less forgiving, alongside the leviathans trying to breach the walls. and if the leviathans do reach the shores, their blood and bodies have a very strange effect on the land and can make a place completely uninhabitable. and lastly, a murder rather unusual, involving the flora in this world, just happened and no one has any clues as to why or how, but the empire needs it solved before the wet season officially hits. this story follows an assistant to a detective, named dim, who is an engraver, which means he has an enhancement that allows him to remember everything he is seeing, and relay it back to his detective with 100% accuracy and certainty. this is because of an augmentation that he has, and he is able to extra anchor the memories with a vial of a fragrance he is able to tie the experience to. and truly, him exploring all of these places, and manors, and crime scenes, and attaching all of these clues to scent, was one of my favorite parts of this book. but the detective herself? oh, ana is the best character i’ve read in years! truly a new favorite for me! ana is a bit of a mystery herself throughout the book, so i don’t want to say too much, but she seems to be banished to the outer ring, but she needed a new assistant for a murder mystery in which she is very much needed to solve. and together we watch din and her work together and try to find the murderer(s), while more and more mystery ensues. this was just a really fresh story, and something that really pushed the bounds of both fantasy and mystery genres. yet, also combining both and making a really beautiful and harmonious experience for readers. this felt different to read, and special to consume, and it really surpassed absolutely every expectation i had prior to purchasing this book at b&n because i love the trend of covers being printed directly on hardcovers with no dust jackets. “Born into systems beyond our control, into relationships and organizations that obligate us to change, all so our families may prosper… That’s what the empire is, isn’t it?” to me, this story really also discusses themes of classism and social injustice, where the rich colonizers get to live in safety in the most inner walls, while also having the money to protect themselves from any and all things. while the essential workers who are trying to make all the walls and land a safer and better place are forced to work and live in unsafe conditions. and while people from impoverished communities are forced to give everything they have, in hopes that something will make it back to their families so they will be able to live a tiny bit of a better life. (please know, there is a lot more i want to say, but i won’t because of spoilers – but i really loved some of the themes and thoughts that i felt like were presented within this story!!) “If you ...

[lilibetbombshell]

[tokay-blog]

3 - Parasite I hate those shadow leviathans that only get in the way in cramped caves x) With a mouth like that, the role of parasite suits them better. Chelicerates in the dead zone swim around with rotting wounds, so why not add a reason for that? By secreting acid or gastric juice, the parasite calmly dissolves the shell of these shrimp and gets to the meat, which doesn't heal well

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[velikaja]

different subnautica stuff, including robin, al-an and my silly guy

ah yes apparently me and my friend developed a strange addiction to leviathans

V if you're reading this it's us

[p---l---c]

welcome to Mermay, subnauticaheads

[hakugin0]

Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain. Get this man off my brain.

[nyuska-art]

Shadow Leviathan

I really like the game's design so I drew this gorgeous creature 🤭

[rolex-kaard]

drew all the (living) (regular) bz leviathans

[busnautica]

The red lights turn off. The controls go dark, joysticks limp in Al-An’s grip. The headlights shut off.  The thing lets them go. Whatever it was. Wherever it had come from. It lets them go and disappears, and the only reason Robin can even tell is because that blue mouth and red markings vanish somewhere out in front of them.  And then it hits her.  They're dead in the water. Dead, five hundred meters down, in a pitch black cave, with a tank that gave them less than four minutes of air and a sea truck cabin with a steadily depleting oxygen supply. A sea truck that was extremely damaged, maybe unrecoverable, but thankfully, for the moment, didn't seem ruptured.  Logic. Panic kills. Need logic.  Robin tries coaching it into herself, but somehow isn't able to. Just feels the fear gripping the both of them, the adrenaline causing her body to shake and leans into it. Doesn't mean to, doesn't want to, but there's not a lot of positives at the moment.  The flashlight is blindingly powerful in comparison to the previous darkness. Al-An holds it in one hand and tries pressing the ignition with the other, but all that happens is a soft clicking noise when the button is pressed. The engine's aren't online. They've probably been torn clean off.  Logic. Al-An’s good at logic. Al-An can handle it.  "Robin, calm down," Al-An's suddenly saying. Harsh, maybe without meaning to. He sounds stressed. Speaks through gritted teeth. "You're going to cause us both to panic." 

something something i said wounding was my comfort fic, and therefore again I need comfort lmfao - but also Oh my god my hand slippded my hand really slipped why go through grief when i can watch alyou go through it again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway - I know you said not to say sorry but sorry i gotta tag you once more @crypticvirago - go read the rest here

[puppetmaster13u]

What if- What if DC x Subnautica Below Zero

Shadow Leviathans Batfam, Frozen Leviathan Wonder Woman, Glow Whales Superfam, Iceworms Speedsters, Cryptosuchus Cyborg, Brinewings Arrowfam; Eyejelly Marvel, Feather Fish Hawkwoman, etc I am open to further ideas

Bonus DP crossover of the Phantom crew crashing on the planet or getting stuck there when visiting Sam or Tucker who is working there.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Shadows of Divinity

Here is Chapter Six Summary: Summoned unexpectedly to the Devildom, Nephila—an imposing figure with an ethereal grace—finds herself navigating a world of demons, secrets, and hidden truths. Towering above those around her, Nephila’s presence commands attention, but it’s the sense of something more, something ancient, that truly unsettles those she encounters. With no knowledge of her own mysterious origins, Nephila must uncover the secrets of her family's lineage while contending with the intrigue and suspicion that follow her every step. As the Brothers, the Royals, and the angels attempt to unravel the enigma that is Nephila, they are drawn into a web of past events and divine legacy that could reshape the very fabric of the Devildom.

Tags: @leniisreallycool

Chapter Five Chapter Seven

Chapter Six: Awakening and Unraveling

Nephilia’s consciousness drifted in a hazy twilight, caught between the reality she knew and a realm of dreams that felt both foreign and familiar. Since the incident with Levi, she had been submerged in this strange state, suspended in time, unable to wake but not entirely at rest. In her dreams, she glimpsed fragments of a world she couldn’t place—a battlefield drenched in light, angelic beings clashing with overwhelming force. The scenes were disjointed, like shattered glass attempting to reform into a coherent picture, but she couldn’t piece them together.

She tried to grasp onto something, anything, that would make sense of what she was seeing. A flash of wings, a sword made of pure light, the sound of a trumpet blaring over the cacophony of battle—it all felt familiar yet impossibly distant. The dreams left her with a sense of urgency, of something unfinished, something crucial she was supposed to know. But each time she reached out for clarity, the images would blur and dissolve, leaving her with nothing but a lingering frustration.

The dreams intensified, and with them came a growing awareness of something at the edge of her consciousness, as though she were on the verge of a great revelation. The fragments that eluded her began to trickle back, filling in the holes with snippets of a history that wasn’t her own, yet felt deeply embedded in her very being. She felt as if she stood on the precipice of understanding, ready to grasp the truth that lay just beyond her reach.

But before she could fully comprehend what was unfolding before her, a voice cut through the chaos. It was a woman’s voice, gentle yet commanding, filled with an inexplicable warmth that spread through Nephilia’s chest like sunlight after a storm. The emotion it stirred within her was powerful and overwhelming—something she instinctively recognized as love, though she had no idea who the speaker was.

"It isn’t time for that yet," the voice said, its tone soothing, like that of a mother comforting a child, as it echoed through the void. "There is still much you must do. They need you more than they realize. It is time for you to wake, Nephilia. Wake up."

The words reverberated within her, pulling her away from the dream and back toward consciousness. Her body felt heavy, as though she had been asleep for ages, and her head pounded with a dull, persistent ache. With a sharp gasp, her eyes flew open, and she found herself staring up at the ceiling of a room she didn’t recognize.

The pounding in her head intensified, making it difficult to focus. She blinked, trying to orient herself, but the memories of what had happened before she fell unconscious were scattered and fragmented. The last thing she could clearly recall was grabbing Levi’s hands, feeling a surge of power—both hers and Mammon’s—flood through her, and then... nothing. The rest was a blur of light and sound that left her feeling dizzy.

As her breathing slowed and the fog in her mind began to clear, Nephilia struggled to sit up, wincing as the pounding in her head echoed with each movement. Her body ached in places she didn’t even know could hurt, as though she had been through an intense battle. The memories of her dreams clung to her like cobwebs, refusing to dissipate, and she found herself grasping for their meaning even as they slipped away.

Who was that voice? Nephilia’s heart raced as she tried to process the fragments of her dreams, the disjointed images and the warmth that had enveloped her in those final moments before waking. There was something important, something she was supposed to understand—but it remained just out of reach, like a word on the tip of her tongue that refused to be spoken.

With a determined breath, Nephilia pushed the questions aside for now. She needed to find out what had happened—how long she had been unconscious, what state Levi was in, and why she felt so... different. Something had changed, and she could sense it in every fiber of her being. The familiar weight of Mammon’s pact still pulsed in her chest, but there was something else there, something new and yet familiar all at once.

Her first instinct was to reach out, to find Mammon or one of the others and demand answers, but something held her back. The warning from the voice echoed in her mind, reminding her that it wasn’t time yet. Whatever it was she was supposed to understand, she would have to be patient. For now, she needed to gather her strength and face whatever awaited her in the waking world.

Slowly, Nephilia swung her legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to steady herself before she stood. Her knees wobbled slightly, but she forced herself to remain upright. Whatever had happened, whatever was coming—she was determined to face it head-on. And she had a feeling that nothing in the Devildom was ever going to be the same again.

She finally took a moment to take in her surroundings, her gaze drifting across the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. She was certain this wasn’t the House of Lamentation. The space was far too opulent, too grand, compared to the somewhat lavish yet homely environment of the place she had come to recognize as her home. The room was vast, with high ceilings adorned with intricate gold leaf designs that shimmered in the low light. Velvet drapes, heavy and rich in color, framed tall windows that overlooked a garden she couldn’t quite make out. The furniture was exquisite—each piece carved from dark, polished wood, upholstered in deep reds and purples. A grand chandelier hung above, its crystal facets catching the light and scattering it in a dazzling array. Everything about the room screamed luxury.

The bed she had been lying on was massive, covered in silken sheets and plush pillows that were almost too perfect, too pristine. She felt a pang of discomfort in her chest. Where am I? she wondered, her heart beginning to race as her eyes darted around the room, searching for something familiar, something to ground her.

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts, the door creaked open, and she turned her head sharply in that direction. Barbatos stepped inside, carrying a tray of food that looked far too lavish for a simple meal. The sight of him brought her some measure of relief.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” Barbatos greeted her with a polite smile as he approached the bed, placing the tray on a nearby table.

Nephilia’s eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. "Where am I?" she asked, her voice steady despite the rising anxiety she felt.

Barbatos straightened, his expression unreadable. "You are in the Demon Lord’s palace, Lady Nephilia. After the incident, Lord Diavolo thought it best to bring you here so you could recover and so we could monitor you. You have been unconscious for two days."

She blinked, trying to process this information. Two days?... She had been asleep for two days in the Demon Lord’s palace. Diavolo's palace. It explained the grandeur, the opulence that surrounded her. But it also made her feel even more confused. "What...what happened in the student council room?" she asked cautiously, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Barbatos hesitated for a moment, a rare occurrence that did not go unnoticed by her. There was a subtle tension in his posture, not one of fear or unease, but rather of uncertainty. "I believe it would be best for you to eat and get dressed before discussing that matter with Lord Diavolo. He is eager to speak with you," he said, his tone polite but firm.

Nephilia fell silent, sensing that Barbatos wasn’t going to divulge any more information at the moment. There was something in the way he spoke, a careful choice of words, that made her feel as though there was more to the situation than she knew. A sliver of fear crept into her chest, mingling with the confusion that had been swirling within her since she woke up. Without another word, she complied, reaching for the tray and beginning to eat, though her appetite was nearly nonexistent.

The food was exquisite, each bite a delicate balance of flavors that might have brought her joy under different circumstances. But now, it only served as a distraction, something to focus on other than the gnawing feelings that refused to leave her.

Once she had finished eating, Barbatos, who had moved toward a wardrobe in the corner, returned, holding a dress in his hands. "This was meant as a welcome gift from Lord Diavolo upon your arrival in the Devildom. However, it required some alterations to fit your figure correctly, so it was not ready until now," he explained as he presented it to her.

Nephilia took the dress from him, her fingers brushing against the fabric. It was simple but elegant, made of a material that was both smooth and delicate, yet sturdy enough to withstand wear. The craftsmanship was impeccable, with subtle embroidery that caught the light just right, giving it an understated beauty. As she held it, a strange feeling blossomed in her chest—a mix of gratitude and disbelief. She had never been gifted something like this before. All the nice clothes she owned were remnants from her work as a model, cast-offs that had been altered to fit her frame. But this...this was something made specifically for her.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as she looked up at Barbatos. He offered a small nod in response before taking his leave, quietly closing the door behind him.

Alone once more, Nephilia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her eyes drifted down to the dress in her hands, and she ran her thumbs over the fabric again, feeling its quality, its weight. It was a beautiful gift, one that should have filled her with joy. She glanced over at the pair of heels that Barbatos had placed by the bed, her thoughts racing. Why had Diavolo gone to such lengths? What had truly happened in that room? And why did she feel so... scared?

Nephilia took one last look at herself in the mirror, trying to steady the nerves that threatened to overwhelm her. The reflection that stared back at her was regal, poised, every inch the image of someone who belonged surrounded by these opulent walls. Yet beneath the surface, she was struggling to grasp the situation.

The door creaked open, and she turned to see Barbatos standing there, waiting for her. His expression was as calm and composed as ever, but she could sense the watchfulness in his gaze, as if he were assessing her, making sure she was ready for whatever awaited her beyond that room.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice a smooth, polite invitation.

Nephilia nodded, taking a deep breath before following him out of the room. Her heels clicked against the marble floors, each step echoing in the vast corridors of the palace. As they walked, she couldn’t help but take in her surroundings, the sheer grandeur of the place. It was like stepping into a dream—a place of beauty and power that seemed almost too perfect, too otherworldly to be real.

The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings depicting scenes of battles, of demons commanding legions, of landscapes that seemed to stretch into eternity. Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm, flickering light that made the marble floors beneath them gleam. Everything about the palace was designed to impress, to convey a sense of ancient power and authority.

Barbatos led her through several winding corridors, each one more ornate than the last, until they finally arrived at a set of large, intricately carved doors. He paused, turning to face her with a respectful nod.

“Lord Diavolo is waiting for you inside,” he said, his tone even, though she could still sense that hint of uncertainty lurking beneath the surface.

Nephilia swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the doors. She knew that whatever awaited her inside, it was going to change everything. But she had no choice—she had to face it, had to find out what had happened, and what it meant for her.

“Thank you,” she managed to say, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her.

Barbatos inclined his head once more before stepping aside, allowing her to approach the doors. With a deep breath, Nephilia reached out and pushed them open, stepping into the chamber beyond.

The room was vast, even more so than the one she had just left. The ceiling soared high above, supported by massive columns of dark stone that were adorned with intricate carvings. A large, ornate rug covered the floor, its deep colors complementing the dark wood of the furniture. At the far end of the room, a large fireplace crackled with a low fire, casting a warm glow that softened the edges of the space.

Diavolo stood near the fireplace, his back to her, his hands clasped behind him as he stared into the flames. He was dressed in his usual regal attire, every inch the Demon Lord, yet there was something almost contemplative about his posture, as though he were lost in thought.

Nephilia hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. She had faced many powerful beings since arriving in the Devildom, but something about Diavolo was different. He exuded an aura of nobility that was both magnetic and intimidating, and despite his often warm demeanor, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always evaluating those around him.

“Lord Diavolo,” she finally said, her voice breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Diavolo turned to face her, a small, welcoming smile on his lips. “Nephilia, I’m glad to see you awake and well. Please, come in.”

She stepped further into the room, the door closing behind her with a soft thud. As she approached him, she could feel his gaze on her, studying her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

“Barbatos mentioned that you wanted to speak with me,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, though her heart was racing.

Diavolo nodded, gesturing for her to take a seat on one of the plush chairs near the fireplace. “Yes, there is much we need to discuss.”

As she sat down, the warmth of the fire seeping into her, Nephilia couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Whatever Diavolo was about to say, she knew it was going to change everything she thought she knew about herself and her place in the Devildom.

“I’m sure you have many questions,” Diavolo began, his voice gentle but firm. “And I will do my best to answer them. But first, I must ask—how much do you remember about what happened in the student council room?”

Nephilia hesitated, searching her fragmented memories for anything that made sense. “I remember Levi charging at me... and then there was a surge of power. But after that, it’s all a blur. I don’t know what happened, but I felt... different.”

Diavolo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving hers. “What you experienced was the manifestation of your magic—a magic that is more complex than we could have anticipated.”

She frowned, confusion knitting her brow. “My magic? What do you mean?”

“There is much about your origins that remains a mystery,” Diavolo said, his tone measured. “But what we have discovered is that you carry within you a power that is both ancient and unique—a power that seems to be awakening.”

Nephilia’s mind raced, trying to process what he was saying. “Are you saying I’m not human?”

Diavolo’s smile was tinged with something she couldn’t quite place—sadness, perhaps, or maybe sympathy. “You are human so far as we know, but there is more to you than that. It’s possible that your bloodline carries traces of this magic, which may explain the manifestations you’ve been experiencing.”

Nephilia’s heart skipped a beat. “My bloodline... But they're human, aren’t they?”

Diavolo nodded slowly. “Yes, they are. But it seems they are also much more. And it seems that you, too, are more than what you appear to be.”

She sat back in her chair, her mind reeling from the revelation. It was one thing to know that she was different, that she had a connection to the Devildom through magic, because she had always been different compared to other humans. But to hear that she might be something more than human—something not entirely of this world—was overwhelming.

“Can you tell me what really happened with Levi?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with a trace of apprehension. “I need to know what I did.”

Diavolo’s gaze softened, and he nodded, understanding the weight of her question. “Of course,” he said gently. “You deserve to know the truth.”

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before continuing. “When Leviathan transformed, it was clear that he had lost control. The intensity of his envy had driven him to the brink, and in that state, he became dangerous—more dangerous than usual. But what was unexpected was your reaction.”

Nephilia leaned in slightly, her heart pounding as she listened.

“When Levi lunged at you,” Diavolo continued, “You reached out and grabbed him, and at that moment, something remarkable happened. Your pact with Mammon reacted in a way none of us thought possible.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on hers as he explained. “From your back, the outline of wings began to form— red and gold magical energy. At the same time, horns appeared on your head. The energy was powerful, but what was most striking was that it wasn’t just your magic. You had somehow combined your own with Mammon’s.”

Nephilia’s eyes widened, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend what Diavolo was saying. “Combined... our magic?” she echoed, her voice filled with disbelief.

Diavolo nodded. “Yes. It was as if your magic and Mammon’s merged into something entirely new. Separate magics typically function in tandem, complementing each other rather than blending together. The act of merging two distinct magical energies is an exceptionally challenging feat, even for those well-versed in the arcane arts. Not even Solomon, with all his expertise, has managed to achieve such a fusion. The energy that radiated from you was unlike anything any of us have seen before. It was... overwhelming, even for us.”

He paused, studying her reaction. “What’s more, it seemed that this combined magic was able to subdue Leviathan, at least temporarily. But the force of it was immense—so much so that the very air in the room became charged with it. When we finally managed to separate the two of you, the magic dissipated, and you collapsed.”

Nephilia felt a shiver run down her spine as she listened to Diavolo’s account. The images he described were vivid in her mind, though she had no memory of them. She could almost see the wings, feel the power that had surged through her. But it all felt so distant, so unreal.

“And... no one knows what it was?” she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Diavolo shook his head slowly. “Not entirely. We can only speculate at this point. It’s possible that this is related to your unique nature, but until we understand more, we can’t say for certain.”

He leaned forward slightly, his expression earnest. “Nephilia, I won’t pretend that this isn’t concerning for all of us. The power you displayed was immense, and it’s clear that there is much we don’t yet understand about you or your abilities. But I want you to know that we are committed to helping you learn more about this power, to help you control it.”

Nephilia nodded slowly, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and fear. The idea that she had wielded such power without even realizing it was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a strange sense of... purpose. As if this was something she had been meant to do, even if she didn’t fully understand it yet.

Nephilia met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes giving her a measure of comfort. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Diavolo reached out, gently taking her hand in his. “You are stronger than you realize and have already endured more than what most could handle. And whatever the future holds, know that I am here to support you every step of the way.”

The warmth of his touch and the reassurance in his words eased some of the fear that had been gripping her heart. She still had so many questions, so many doubts, but for now, she would have to trust that she would find the answers in time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her resolve beginning to strengthen. “I’ll do my best.”

Diavolo’s smile returned, full of quiet confidence. “I have no doubt that you will.” He leaned forward slightly, his expression earnest. “Given the intensity of what you experienced, I believe it would be best for you to remain at the castle for the next few days. This will allow us to monitor your magic and ensure that both you and your abilities remain stable. Once we have confirmed that, you can return to the House of Lamentation.”

Nephilia felt a surge of apprehension at the thought of staying in the castle, but she recognized the wisdom in his suggestion. “I understand. If staying here will help me ensure everyone's safety, then I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

Diavolo nodded, his eyes filled with quiet confidence. “Thank you for your understanding. Barbatos will assist you should you require anything. Take this time to rest and gather your strength.”

Nephilia offered a small, determined smile. “Thank you, Lord Diavolo. I appreciate your support.”

He returned her smile with a nod. “You’re most welcome, Nephilia and please, just call me Diavolo."

The next few days passed in a quiet, almost surreal blur for Nephilia. The grandeur of the palace was a constant reminder of how far she was from the life she had known, yet there was an odd sense of tranquility that settled over her as she adjusted to her new surroundings. She was excused from attending classes in person at RAD, which gave her time to rest and reflect on everything that had happened.

Diavolo had made it clear that her well-being was of the utmost importance, and so, under his watchful eye, she was given the space to heal and explore the power that had so suddenly awakened within her. But beyond the formalities of her stay, a subtle, almost imperceptible bond began to form between her and the demon lord.

They spent much of their time together in the castle’s expansive library, a place Diavolo often retreated to when he wasn’t attending to his duties. The library was a treasure trove of ancient knowledge, with shelves that stretched up to the high ceilings, filled with tomes that detailed the history of the Devildom, the Celestial Realm, and even the human world.

One afternoon, as they sat across from each other at a large mahogany table, Diavolo broke the comfortable silence with a question. “Tell me, Nephilia,” he began, his voice gentle but curious, “what was your life like in the human world?”

Nephilia paused, considering how to answer. She had been asked this question before by others in the Devildom, but with Diavolo, it felt different—more personal. “It was… normal, I suppose,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. “I grew up in a small town, nothing special. My parents were good people, strict but loving. They were always pushing me to do my best, to excel in everything I did.”

Diavolo listened intently, his golden eyes never leaving hers. “And did you? Excel, I mean?”

Nephilia smiled faintly. “I tried. I did well in school, but there was always something that set me apart from everyone else. My height, for one. It was hard to blend in when I towered over everyone, even as a child.” She chuckled softly, the memory tinged with a mixture of fondness and sadness. “I never really fit in, but I guess that made me stronger in some ways.”

Diavolo nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve always been fascinated by humans and their resilience. You all face so many challenges, yet you continue to push forward, to adapt.”

She tilted her head slightly, intrigued by his words. “You really are fascinated by humans, aren’t you? Why is that?”

He smiled, a warm, genuine expression that softened his regal features. “There’s something remarkable about your kind. The way you experience emotions, the way you create and innovate, even in the face of adversity… It’s something that we demons, and even the angels, often overlook or take for granted.”

Nephilia found herself returning his smile. “I suppose it’s easy to forget the value of something when you’re used to it.”

Diavolo chuckled, a deep, rich sound that echoed through the library. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Their conversations deepened. Diavolo would ask her about human customs, about the way humans lived their lives, and Nephilia found herself sharing more than she ever thought she would. She told him about the simple pleasures of her world—walking through a park in the fall, the smell of dew in the early morning, the sunrises and sunsets, the way the moon and stars looked on a clear night. In turn, Diavolo shared stories of the Devildom’s history, of the ancient battles and the political intrigue that shaped the world they lived in.

They spent their evenings together as well, often dining in a private dining room away from the grandeur of the palace’s main halls. The meals were lavish, prepared by Barbatos of course, but it was the company that made them special. They would talk late into the night, their conversations ranging from light hearted banter to more serious discussions about the nature of power and responsibility.

One evening, they found themselves in the gardens. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated the path ahead of them as they strolled through the neatly manicured hedges. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of the night-blooming flowers that surrounded them.

Nephilia walked in silence for a few moments, her thoughts wandering. Diavolo, sensing her contemplative mood, glanced over at her. “You seem deep in thought,” he observed, his tone inviting her to share whatever was on her mind.

She looked up at the night sky, the unfamiliar constellations twinkling above them. “I’ve been thinking our conversation about the differences between humans, demons, and angels,” she began slowly, her voice thoughtful. “At first, I thought the differences were vast, but now I’m not so sure. From what I’ve seen, we’re not as different as I once believed.”

Diavolo’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? How so?”

Nephilia considered her words carefully. “Well, for one, the emotions you all experience—whether it’s joy, anger, sadness, or love—aren’t so different from what humans feel. I’ve seen it in the way the brothers interact with each other, in the way you speak about your responsibilities and your dreams for the exchange program, and even in the way Barbatos is dedicated to you. It’s all very… familiar, in a way.”

Diavolo nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“But what really sets humans apart, at least from my perspective, is the passage of time,” she continued, her gaze distant as she thought back to her life in the human world. “For us, life passes by in an instant. We’re constantly having to change and evolve because time slips through our fingers so quickly. We don’t have the luxury of immortality, so we’re always aware that everything we do, every choice we make, has a finite amount of time to play out.”

Diavolo’s expression grew more serious as he listened. “You’re right, time is something we often take for granted. It’s easy to forget how fleeting life can be when you’ve lived for millennia.”

Nephilia nodded. “But there’s something else I’ve noticed too—something that I think is even more significant. Humans aren’t defined by a single nature like most demons and angels are. From what I can tell, it takes demons and angels a very long time to grow and change their habits, but that’s to be expected from beings for whom time means very little.”

Diavolo tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “What do you mean by ‘a single nature’?”

Nephilia smiled faintly. “Take the brothers, for example. Each of them embodies a specific sin, and that sin seems to dominate much of their behavior. They aren’t completely defined by it, of course, but it’s a big part of who they are. The same goes for angels and their virtues. It seems like it would be hard to break away from those traits, to grow beyond them.”

Diavolo nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. Our natures are deeply ingrained in us, often guiding our actions and decisions. It’s a part of who we are, and it’s not easy to change.”

“But humans… we’re not like that,” Nephilia continued. “We’re more fluid, I guess. We’re capable of embodying many different traits and behaviors depending on our circumstances. We can be kind and cruel, brave and fearful, wise and foolish—all in the same day, sometimes. We aren’t bound by a single nature, and I think that makes us more adaptable, more capable of change, but it's also what makes us so dangerous because we are unpredictable.”

Diavolo looked at her with a new sense of admiration. “That’s a fascinating perspective, Nephilia. I never quite thought about it in that way.”

Nephilia shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. In the end, we all want the same things, don’t we? To be happy, to find meaning in our lives, to protect the ones we care about. Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

Diavolo’s smile softened, a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “Perhaps not. But it’s your differences that make you so interesting, so… remarkable. You bring a new perspective to our world, one that we could all benefit from understanding better.”

As they reached the end of the garden path, Diavolo glanced at her once more, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Nephilia, may I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she replied, turning to face him.

“If you could change anything about the Devildom—or even about the way humans, demons, and angels interact—what would it be?”

Nephilia considered the question for a moment. “I think… I would want there to be more understanding between our worlds. Less fear, less prejudice. We could be capable of so much more if we worked together, if we saw each other as equals rather than as enemies or strangers.”

Diavolo smiled, a look of genuine admiration in his eyes. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s one of the reasons I started the exchange program in the first place. I hope that by bringing our worlds together, we can create something truly extraordinary.”

Nephilia nodded, feeling a warmth inside her as she gazed upon his face. “I hope so too.”

Another evening, as they sat in a quiet alcove of the palace, the warm light of a nearby fireplace casting a soft glow on their surroundings, Diavolo found himself reflecting on the conversations he and Nephilia had shared over the past few days. The more he learned about her, the more intrigued he became—not just by her experiences, but by the way she viewed the world, and by her.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Nephilia,” Diavolo began, his tone gentle yet curious. “You once mentioned that your parents weren’t religious. I found that interesting, especially considering where you are now. Would you mind telling me more about their beliefs?”

Nephilia looked thoughtful, her gaze shifting to the flickering flames. “It’s not that they were atheists,” she explained. “They were open to the possibility of a higher power, or even entities beyond what humanity understands. The universe and its infinite possibilities are too vast, so they didn’t dismiss the idea that something greater might exist, but they didn’t feel the need to follow a specific dogma or deity to determine whether they were decent people.”

Diavolo nodded, listening intently. “So, they believed in the potential for something greater, but they didn’t rely on it to guide their lives?”

“Exactly,” Nephilia replied. “They believed that being a good person wasn’t something that had to be dictated by an external force. It was about your actions, your choices, and how you treated others. It is learned with time. They never subscribed to the idea of good versus evil in the way many religions do. To them, life was more nuanced than that.”

Diavolo leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Nephilia took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts before continuing. “It’s not that they didn’t believe in the existence of bad actions or harmful behaviors. But they understood that most people have reasons for the way they behave, for the choices they make—reasons that aren’t always clear at first glance. For them, the concept of good or evil was too black and white, too rigid to truly encompass the complexities of human behavior.”

Her eyes met his. “Let’s say, for example, that a man stands on trial for murder. He admits to committing the crime, and half the jury has already decided he’s guilty or an evil person before hearing the full story. But what they don’t know is that the man he killed had harmed his wife and children, and he acted out of a desperate need to protect them. Or consider someone who’s been caught stealing. At first glance, they might not seem to be in need, so people are quick to condemn them. But what if they’re trying to feed their starving family?”

She paused a moment before continuing, "Of course, there are certainly people are truly deplorable, who commit atrocities simply because they can or because they enjoy the suffering of others. And even more who act out of a sense of entitlement or superiority, who do harm because they feel they’re above consequence. But those people are exceptions rather than the rule. More often than not, the person who is labeled as evil is a victim themselves. Humans learn through imitation when we’re children, absorbing the behaviors and attitudes of the adults around us. We learn how to treat others, how to perceive the world, based on what we see and hear. It’s the same with beliefs and relationships—and even cruelty."

Her gaze grew distant for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. "The world, and people, are far too complex to be neatly categorized into good or evil. Those terms don’t capture the full scope of what drives us, what shapes us. Someone might do something terrible, but if you look deeper, you might find a history of pain, neglect, or fear that led them down that path. That's not to say that their actions should be excused, people must learn from their choices and take responsibility, but you have to understand that they didn’t arrive at that point in a vacuum."

Diavolo’s gaze softened as he absorbed her words. “So, your parents believed that judgment should be reserved until one truly understands the circumstances that led to someone’s actions.”

Nephilia nodded. “They believed that people are shaped by their experiences, by the pain they carry, and by the circumstances they find themselves in. It’s easy to label someone as evil or bad, but it’s much harder to understand the reasons behind their actions. You can never really know just how much hurt a person carries. Just because someone wears it well, doesn’t mean the burden isn’t heavy.”

Diavolo considered her words carefully. "Do you believe the same as your parents, then? That morality is more complex than good and evil? That people are products of their circumstances?"

Nephilia met his gaze steadily. "In many ways, yes. I too believe that people are shaped by their lives, for better or worse. But I also believe that everyone has the capacity to change, to choose a different path. It’s just that some people need more help, more compassion, and more understanding to get there."

Diavolo’s expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It’s a perspective that’s both wise and kind. There’s much that demons—and perhaps even angels—could learn from people like you."

Nephilia felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, a sense of validation that she hadn’t realized she needed. "Thank you, Diavolo."

In the castle, Nephilia and Diavolo sat together in one of the smaller, more intimate sitting rooms—a space far less grand than the throne room, but still luxurious in its own right. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow that made the room feel cozy, almost homely, despite its grandeur.

Over the past week, Nephilia had grown more comfortable in Diavolo’s presence. Their conversations had flowed easily, ranging from the trivial to the deeply philosophical. There was a natural rhythm between them now, a sense of companionship that had developed surprisingly quickly.

Tonight, as they sat together, Diavolo asked her about the books she enjoyed reading. "You’ve mentioned your love for reading a few times now. What kinds of stories do you find yourself drawn to?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed, genuine interest.

Nephilia smiled, taking a sip of the tea Barbatos had prepared. "I like books that make you think, that challenge your perceptions. But I’m also a sucker for a good mystery or a bit of romance," she added with a small chuckle.

Diavolo’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "Romance, you say? Do you have a favorite kind? A grand, sweeping love story, or something more subtle?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I think I prefer something in between. Grand gestures can be beautiful, but there’s something special about the little things, the quiet moments where love is shown through actions rather than words. It feels more genuine, more lasting."

Diavolo nodded, considering her words. "I understand what you mean. The small gestures can speak volumes, can’t they? A simple act of kindness, a thoughtful word… those are the things that linger in the heart."

Nephilia looked at him, sensing a subtle shift in his demeanor. There was a warmth in his gaze, something more than just friendly curiosity. But before she could dwell on it, he spoke again, his tone light but sincere.

"Speaking of gestures… Tomorrow, before you return to the House of Lamentation, I thought we might take a walk through the gardens again, since you enjoy them so much."

Nephilia blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer. "That sounds lovely, Diavolo. I’d like that."

He smiled, pleased with her response. "It’s settled then. I’ll look forward to it."

Their conversation continued, but Diavolo found himself slipping small, thoughtful gestures into their interactions. As they talked, he poured her another cup of tea, ensuring it was just the right temperature. When she mentioned how she enjoyed watching the fire, he adjusted the logs so the flames would burn more evenly, casting a warmer glow across the room.

As the night wore on, Nephilia began to notice these subtle actions. They weren’t overt, but they were there—small, considerate gestures that made her feel cared for in a way that was both comforting and unexpected. She wasn’t sure if it was just Diavolo’s nature or something more, but she found herself appreciating the attention, even as she tried to convince herself not to read too much into it.

"I’ll miss having you around the castle," Diavolo admitted, his voice tinged with something that Nephilia couldn’t quite place. "It’s been… refreshing, spending time with you."

Nephilia looked at him, her own feelings mirroring his. "I’ll miss being here too. It’s nice to getting to know you, Diavolo. I didn’t expect to become friends so quickly."

"Nor did I," he admitted, his gaze holding hers for a moment longer than usual. "But I’m glad we did."

As the evening drew to a close, Diavolo stood, offering her a hand to help her up. "I’ll walk you to your room," he said, his tone as courteous as ever, though there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Nephilia took his hand, feeling a warmth spread through her at the contact. "Thank you."

They walked in silence, the connection between them stronger than it had been just a week ago. As they reached her room, Diavolo paused, hesitating for just a moment before speaking.

"Goodnight, Nephilia," he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gesture so fleeting she almost thought she imagined it.

"Goodnight," she replied, her voice equally soft.

As she entered her room and closed the door behind her, Nephilia couldn’t help but smile. There was something blossoming between them, and whatever it was, it felt right, like the beginning of something she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for.

And perhaps, in time, she would find the courage to let it grow.

Nephilia walked towards the house with a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. Diavolo had insisted on escorting her back to the House of Lamentation himself, a gesture that both comforted and unnerved her. Now, as she stood before the imposing structure, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.

Diavolo walked beside her, his presence a steadying force as they approached the front door. His warmth had been a constant during her stay at the castle, and now, as they returned to the House of Lamentation, that warmth was like a shield against the uncertainty that awaited her. "I’ll explain everything to Lucifer," he assured her, his voice calm and reassuring. "There’s nothing to worry about, Nephilia."

She nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. The thought of Lucifer’s stern, calculating gaze lingered in her mind. He had always been guarded around her, and now, after everything that had happened, she knew he would be even more so.

As they stepped into the house, the atmosphere inside seemed to shift. The air felt thicker, charged with tension, as if the very walls of the House of Lamentation were holding their breath. The familiar, somewhat dark and foreboding interior of the house now felt even more oppressive, each shadow cast by the dim lighting seeming to reach out toward her.

It didn’t take long for the others to notice her arrival. The sound of the door opening echoed through the hallways, drawing the brothers toward the foyer like moths to a flame. Lucifer was the first to appear, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto her with a mixture of wariness and scrutiny. His presence, as always, was commanding, and the tension between them crackled in the air.

"Lord Diavolo," Lucifer greeted with a nod, his gaze briefly flicking to Nephilia before returning to the prince. His tone was polite, but there was a hard edge to it. "I trust everything has been resolved?"

Diavolo offered a reassuring smile, though there was an underlying seriousness in his expression. "Indeed, Lucifer. Nephilia’s magic has stabilized, and there’s no cause for concern at the moment. I wanted to personally assure you of that."

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Though he didn’t voice his doubts, Nephilia could sense his concern—his protectiveness over his brothers, his wariness of the unknown. It wasn’t just the immediate situation that troubled him, but the broader implications of what Nephilia represented. She was an anomaly, an unpredictable factor in a world he had meticulously controlled for millennia.

Before the conversation could continue, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the tension, and Mammon came barreling down the stairs. His face was a mixture of relief and frustration, his blue eyes wide with emotion. "Neph! Finally, yer back!" he exclaimed, nearly skidding to a halt in front of her. "Do ya have any idea how worried I’ve been? Lucifer wouldn’t let me come to the castle to check on ya, even though I’m supposed to be yer guardian! And why didn’t ya contact me?!"

Nephilia couldn’t help but laugh and smile softly, the familiar warmth of Mammon’s antics easing some of the tension in her chest. "Do you remember that my phone was confiscated before the quiz? They never gave it back, so I couldn’t contact you even if I wanted to."

Mammon’s frustration melted into sheepishness, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, right... I guess I forgot about that," he muttered, his bravado slipping away.

As their exchange continued, the other brothers began to emerge, drawn by the commotion in the foyer. Each of them regarded her with varying degrees of wariness, their eyes carefully assessing her as if she were a potential threat. The atmosphere in the room was thick with unspoken tension, a far cry from the initial chaos she had been thrust into when she first arrived.

Asmo was the first to break the silence, his gaze sweeping over her with a mix of curiosity and caution. His usual flirtatious demeanor was tempered by a hint of unease, though he masked it well. "Nephilia, darling! That dress looks absolutely stunning on you! I’m so jealous!" he exclaimed, his tone playfully envious. "Where did you get it? And when?"

Nephilia offered a small smile, sensing the undercurrent of tension in his words. "Diavolo had it made for me."

Asmo’s eyes widened in surprise, though his lips curled into a pout. "A custom dress from Lord Diavolo himself? Oh, I’m even more jealous now!" he sighed dramatically, but the usual warmth in his voice was tinged with something else—something that made her feel as though she were being sized up, evaluated.

The others, too, reacted in their own ways. Satan’s gaze was sharp, calculating, as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. Beel, who usually radiated a calm, almost gentle aura, seemed more guarded, his broad shoulders tensed as he watched her with careful eyes. Even Lucifer’s gaze, though outwardly calm, held a flicker of something darker—something that made Nephilia’s heart beat a little faster.

It was clear that what had happened with Levi had left its mark on all of them. They were wary of her now, uncertain of what she was capable of or what she might do next.

As the conversation continued, Nephilia’s thoughts drifted back to Levi. The concern she felt for him gnawed at her, growing more intense with each passing moment. She had been so caught up in her own situation that she hadn’t had the chance to ask about him until now.

Her voice softened as she addressed Mammon again. "How is Levi doing? Where is he?"

The room fell silent, the atmosphere shifting as the brothers exchanged uneasy glances. Mammon’s earlier lightheartedness faded, replaced by a more somber expression. "He hasn’t left his room since the quiz," Mammon admitted quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. "He was really shaken up after everything that happened. He’s been hidin' away, avoidin' everyone."

Nephilia’s heart clenched with guilt and worry. Levi’s isolation was a direct result of what had transpired, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was responsible for his distress. "Can I see him?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Mammon hesitated, glancing at the others as if seeking their input. But when none of them objected, he nodded. "Yeah... I think he needs to see ya too. Just... be gentle with him, all right? He’s... he’s not takin’ it well."

With a deep breath, Nephilia nodded in understanding. "I will," she promised, already steeling herself for the conversation that was about to come. She knew that whatever she faced when she stepped into Levi’s room, it wouldn’t be easy. But she also knew that she had to do it, for both their sakes.

As she turned to head up the stairs, she could feel the weight of the brothers’ gazes on her back. They were watching her, waiting to see what she would do next. And though the road ahead was uncertain, she knew she couldn’t back down now. Not when so much was at stake.

As Nephilia disappeared up the staircase, the room was filled with a heavy silence, the brothers' gazes lingering where she had just stood. The tension that had been palpable since her return seemed to hang in the air, unspoken but understood by everyone present. Lucifer, his eyes narrowed in thought, turned to Diavolo, who remained calm and composed, despite the underlying seriousness of the situation.

"I know she must remain here due to the exchange program," Lucifer began, his tone measured and controlled, "but do you truly trust her, Diavolo? After everything that has happened, after the power she displayed—can you honestly say that she poses no threat to us or the Devildom?"

Diavolo met Lucifer's gaze steadily, his expression thoughtful but unwavering. "As of now, yes, I do trust her," Diavolo responded, his voice firm. "I was unsure at first, as any of us would be when faced with something unknown, something potentially dangerous. But after spending time with her, after many conversations and mine and Barbatos' observations, I can attest that Nephilia had no knowledge of her magic or any harmful intentions toward us. She was completely truthful when I questioned her, Lucifer. Every word she spoke was sincere."

Lucifer's brow furrowed, his eyes searching Diavolo's for any hint of doubt. But there was none. The Demon Lord's conviction was clear, and it sent a ripple through the room. The brothers, who had been tense and uncertain since Nephilia's return, began to relax, their wary expressions softening ever so slightly.

Satan, who had been watching the exchange intently, let out a small breath, as though some of the weight on his shoulders had been lifted. Asmo’s posture, previously stiff with caution, eased, and his usual easy smile returned, though it still held a hint of curiosity. Beel’s ever-present concern seemed to lessen, his broad shoulders no longer as tense. Even Lucifer’s stern expression softened just a fraction, though his wariness did not entirely fade.

The reassurance from Diavolo seemed to settle over the group, dispelling some of the unease that had taken root in their hearts. But it was Mammon who broke the silence with an exasperated huff, his frustration evident as he threw his hands up in the air.

"I told ya that from the beginning!" Mammon exclaimed, his voice rising in indignation. "But none of ya would believe me! I kept tellin’ ya she wasn’t a threat, but no—no one wanted to listen to Mammon!"

The room fell silent again, the brothers exchanging glances. No one spoke up, whether out of embarrassment or a reluctance to admit that Mammon had been right all along. It was rare for Mammon to be taken seriously, and rarer still for him to be correct about something that concerned them all so deeply.

Mammon’s eyes swept over his brothers, waiting for someone to acknowledge his point, but when no one did, he let out an irritated sigh. "Assholes," he muttered under his breath, though there was no real malice in his voice—only a resigned frustration. "If any of ya actually got to know her, ya would’ve learned that by now."

With that, Mammon turned on his heel, not waiting for a response, and headed toward the stairs, intent on following after Nephilia. His departure left the room in silence once more, the brothers left to contemplate his words.

As he ascended the stairs, Mammon’s footsteps echoed softly, and the tension he had carried since Nephilia’s disappearance began to fade. His mind was focused only on her now, on ensuring that she was all right, that Levi wouldn’t do anything to upset her further. There was a protective instinct within him, something that had grown stronger with each passing day, and he wasn’t about to let his brothers’ doubts or their cold shoulders keep him from looking after her. She was a part of his family now.

Back in the foyer, the remaining brothers exchanged thoughtful looks. Diavolo’s words had done much to reassure them, but Mammon’s reaction had left an impact as well. Though they had been skeptical of his attachment to Nephilia, there was now an undeniable truth in what he had said. Perhaps it was time they all took a closer look, time to truly get to know the woman who had suddenly become so integral to their lives. The tension slowly dissipated, leaving behind a collective sense of contemplation and, perhaps, the first stirrings of acceptance.

Nephilia stood before Leviathan’s door, her hand suspended in mid-air as she wrestled with the uncertainty that had rooted itself in her heart. The hallway was eerily quiet, the shadows cast by the dim lighting dancing across the walls, as if the very atmosphere of the House of Lamentation was holding its breath in anticipation. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to knock, to take that first step toward reconciliation, yet a part of her hesitated, paralyzed by the fear of rejection.

She knew that what had transpired between them during the quiz had left scars, not just on Levi but on herself as well. The memory of his anguished expression, his eyes wide with disbelief and pain as she had inadvertently shattered his pride, haunted her. She couldn��t shake the guilt that gnawed at her, a constant reminder that, despite her intentions, she had hurt someone she wanted to consider a friend.

As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, a familiar presence approached. Mammon appeared at the far end of the hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. When he reached her, he offered a reassuring smile, the warmth in his eyes cutting through the fog of doubt that clouded her mind. There was something grounding about Mammon’s presence, a steadying influence that helped her find the courage she needed to face what lay ahead.

He leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper meant only for her ears. "I’ll be right outside the door if ya need me, Neph," he murmured, his tone gentle, yet firm in its promise of support.

She returned his smile, the simple gesture conveying her gratitude more than words ever could. It was a small comfort, but it was enough to bolster her resolve. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned her attention back to the door and, with newfound determination, knocked softly.

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, as if the entire house had been enveloped in a heavy shroud of tension. The seconds ticked by, each one stretching into an eternity as she waited, listening intently for any sign of movement on the other side. But there was nothing—no sound, no response, just an oppressive stillness that made her heart sink.

Refusing to give up, Nephilia knocked again, this time calling out in a voice that was steady despite the turmoil she felt inside. "Levi? It’s Nephilia. Can we please talk?"

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. She strained to hear anything—a creak of the floorboards, the rustle of fabric—anything that might indicate Levi was willing to engage with her. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a reminder of how much she didn’t want to leave things unresolved between them.

Then, finally, there was a sound—soft, barely audible through the thick wooden door, followed by a muffled voice. "Go away."

The pain in those two words hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless. The rawness of Levi’s voice, the way it trembled with unspoken hurt, made her chest tighten with guilt. She pressed her forehead against the door, her fingers curling into fists as she tried to steady herself. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. She hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Desperate to find the right words, Nephilia’s mind raced, sifting through every conversation they’d had, every shared moment that might offer her a way to reach him. But nothing seemed sufficient, nothing felt like it could bridge the chasm that had opened between them. Just as she was about to despair, a memory surfaced—a scene from TSL.

In the story, there had been a rift between Henry and the Lord of Shadows, a misunderstanding that had driven a wedge between them. Henry, desperate to mend their bond, had spoken words that had reached the Lord of Shadows. Words that, perhaps, could do the same for Levi now.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Nephilia spoke, her voice soft but infused with a quiet determination. "Lord of Shadows, I know you’re hurting, but shutting yourself away won’t make the pain disappear. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’m still here. I’ll always be here. So let me in. Let me help you carry this burden."

The silence that followed was so absolute that it felt as though the entire house was holding its breath, waiting for Levi’s response. Nephilia’s heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears as she pressed herself closer to the door, willing him to hear her, to let her in.

For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and she feared that her words had failed to reach him. But then, ever so faintly, she heard movement from the other side—a hesitant shuffle, the sound of feet shifting on the floor, as if Levi was struggling with some internal conflict. She held her breath, hope flickering to life within her as she waited.

Leviathan opened the door just a crack, enough for Nephilia to glimpse his wide, wary eyes, before he quickly retreated, scurrying back into the sanctuary of his room. He moved with a kind of frantic urgency, his steps quick and almost panicked as he sought refuge in the familiar confines of his tub, where he hastily burrowed under a fortress of pillows and blankets. It was as if he was trying to shield himself from the world, to hide away from the reality of what had happened.

Nephilia hesitated at the threshold, her hand still resting on the doorknob as she watched Levi disappear beneath his cocoon of comfort. The sight tugged at her heart, and she found herself rooted to the spot, unwilling to intrude on his space any further. She quietly closed the door behind her, the soft click of the latch the only sound in the room. The atmosphere was heavy with tension, the air thick with the unspoken words that hung between them.

She didn’t move closer, instinctively knowing that any sudden action might only cause him more distress. Instead, she remained where she was, her gaze gentle and her voice soft as she broke the silence. "Levi... are you okay?"

For a long moment, there was no response. The only sound in the room was the faint rustle of fabric as Levi adjusted his position, hiding himself deeper within his makeshift fortress. The silence stretched on, oppressive and suffocating, until Nephilia couldn’t bear it any longer. She needed to bridge the gap between them, to reach him somehow.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her guilt. "The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt any of you."

The room remained still, and for a moment, she wondered if he would respond at all. But then, she heard the softest of sounds—Levi’s light breathing, barely audible but there, a sign that he was listening. She held onto that, drawing strength from the knowledge that he hadn’t completely shut her out.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, Levi lifted his head just enough for his eyes to peek out from beneath his mountain of pillows and blankets. His gaze was cautious, filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity, as if he was trying to determine whether he could trust her. The sight made Nephilia’s heart ache; the vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

When he finally spoke, his voice was small, almost childlike in its uncertainty. "How... how did you do what you did in the student council room?"

Nephilia took a deep breath, steadying herself before she answered. She knew this conversation would be difficult, that the truth might only deepen the rift between them, but she also knew that honesty was the only way forward. "I didn’t know I could," she admitted, her voice tinged with a sorrow she couldn’t fully hide. "Everything went blank, and I wasn’t really in control in that moment, just like you weren’t. When I grabbed you, it was instinctive, but the magic that manifested after... it wasn’t of my own volition. It just... happened."

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he processed her words, his mind clearly racing to make sense of what she was saying. His gaze flickered with a mix of emotions—confusion, disbelief, and a hint of something darker, something more fearful. Nephilia could see the turmoil in his expression, the way he struggled to reconcile what he had seen with the explanation she was offering.

"I don’t understand," he finally whispered, his voice trembling. "Magic doesn’t just... happen. Not like that. You merged your power with Mammon’s. That’s... impossible."

Nephilia nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. "I know. It shouldn’t have been possible. But it happened, and I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but... I’m just as lost as you are, Levi."

The silence that followed was thick with uncertainty, the gravity of their situation pressing down on them both. Nephilia could see the fear in Levi’s eyes, the way he was grappling with the unknown, and it mirrored her own feelings of helplessness. She had no answers, no explanations that could ease his fears—or her own.

"Levi," she began, her voice gentle, almost pleading. "I wish I could tell you that I know what’s going on, that I understand what’s happening to me... but I don’t. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or anyone else. I’m scared too, and I don’t want to go through this alone."

Levi’s gaze softened, the tension in his body slowly easing as he listened to her words. There was something in her voice, a raw honesty, that made him want to believe her. He knew what it was like to feel lost, to be afraid of something you couldn’t understand. Like when he had first come to the Devildom and was learning about his sin and what it meant to be a demon. Nothing made sense then, it was all so terrifying for him, and he had always wished he had had someone who understood what he was going through. His brothers had been in the same boat so there was little chance to comfort each other. In that moment, he realized that he and Nephilia weren’t so different after all.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, as if giving her permission to stay, to be there with him in his sanctuary. The fear in his eyes lessened, replaced by a tentative, fragile trust that they could build between them.

Leviathan slowly emerged from his cocoon of blankets and pillows, hesitating for a moment before fully revealing himself. His movements were careful, almost shy, as if he were stepping into unfamiliar territory.

Nephilia watched him closely, her heart tightening at the sight of him in this state. The dark circles under his eyes suggested sleepless nights, and his usual composed, if somewhat aloof, demeanor had crumbled, leaving behind a demon who looked as though he was trying to figure out how to put himself back together.

"It's... it's kind of like the plot to Mega Necron Galaxy Force: The Tale of the Lonely Star Prince," Levi said with a small, awkward laugh, his voice still a bit shaky. He glanced at her, his gaze a mix of embarrassment and tentative hope. "You know, where the protagonist accidentally merges his power with the star's energy source, creating a completely new and unpredictable form of energy. It’s... terrifying but kind of cool at the same time."

Nephilia couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the comparison. Levi had a way of finding parallels between his life and the anime he loved, even in situations as serious as this. It was endearing in its own way, and she could see how much comfort those stories gave him, how they helped him make sense of the world. "I suppose it is," she replied, her tone gentle. "Though I have to admit, I didn’t expect my life to turn into an anime plot."

He smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "Yeah, neither did I."

Levi shifted nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket as he avoided her gaze. Then, as if gathering his courage, he looked up at her, his eyes serious and determined. "Nephilia... can you come closer?" he said, his voice low but steady.

She hesitated for a moment, sensing that something significant was about to happen, but she nodded and took a few steps toward him, closing the distance between them. The room seemed to grow quieter, the air thickening as she stood just a few feet from the tub.

Levi swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he clenched them into fists to steady himself. "I... I’ve been thinking," he began, his voice wavering. "About what happened in the student council room, and about Mammon. I hate to admit it, but... maybe stupid Mammon was right about you. And maybe he was onto something with that pact. He’s been... different since then. Better, even. And... maybe... maybe it could be the same for me."

Nephilia’s breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. Levi, the demon of envy, was asking her to make a pact with him. It was something she hadn’t expected, especially not after what had happened. The thought of it, after the chaos that had ensued with Mammon’s pact, filled her with apprehension. But there was also a deep-seated feeling that this was something they both needed, that it was a step they were meant to take.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with concern. "After what happened... I’m not sure what making a pact with you will do to me, or to you. I don’t want to hurt you, Levi."

He held her gaze, his eyes full of determination despite the fear she could still see lingering in their depths. "I’m sure," he said, his voice firm. "I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don't trust Mammon often, but since he trusts you... I'll trust you, Nephilia. I'll trust that whatever happens... it’ll be worth it."

She searched his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all she saw was resolve. He was serious about this, about the pact and what it could mean for both of them. With a deep breath, she nodded, making her decision. "All right, Levi. Let’s do it."

Leviathan's eyes remained locked on Nephilia's as she came to sit by the tub, his resolve clear despite the undercurrent of nervousness in his gaze. She placed her hands in his, noticing the nervous shaking that had began. She gave them a gentle squeeze as reassurance and he took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice shaky but firm.

"I, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy, bind myself to you, Nephilia," he began, his words charged with a weight that made the air around them hum with energy. "With this pact, I offer my strength and my power, sharing it with you, just as you share yours with me. Together, we shall face whatever comes, our fates intertwined."

As Levi spoke, Nephilia felt a rush of energy surge through her, a warm, steady pulse that resonated with the new magic in her own veins. It was different from the chaotic energy she had felt during her pact with Mammon—this was calmer, more controlled, yet still potent, a force that seemed to align perfectly with her own.

Levi’s grip on her hands tightened as he continued, his voice growing more confident with each word. "I promise to protect you, to stand by your side. And in return, you will do the same for me."

Nephilia’s heart pounded in her chest as she listened to his words, feeling the pact mark beginning to form on her wrist. The swirling pattern of green and purple light glowed brightly, pulsing with life as it wrapped around her skin, solidifying the bond between them.

Levi’s voice softened. "This is our pact."

The mark on her wrist flared brightly for a moment before settling into a soft, almost invisible glow, the light fading as the magic fully integrated into her being. Nephilia could feel the difference immediately—a sense of balance and stability that hadn’t been there before. The power within her felt more controlled, more complete, another missing pieces had finally clicked into place.

Levi released her hands, his expression one of quiet awe as he looked at the new mark on his own wrist. "It’s done," he murmured, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. He glanced up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and something else—something like hope. "How do you feel?"

Nephilia took a moment to breathe, to absorb the new energy that flowed through her. The bond between them was strong, tangible, and she could feel it pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "I feel... different," she admitted, her voice soft as she searched for the right words. "Stronger, but also more... balanced."

Levi nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, that’s exactly it," he agreed, his tone carrying a sense of wonder. "It’s like something that was off before has finally been corrected."

Nephilia met his gaze, and for a moment, they simply stood there in silence, both of them processing the profound change that had just taken place. The air between them was lighter now, the tension that had hung over their interactions dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

"Thank you," Levi said suddenly, his voice sincere. "For trusting me with this. I think... I think this will be good for both of us."

She smiled, warmth flooding her chest at his words. "I think so too," she replied, her voice gentle as she took a step closer. "And Levi... if you ever need anything, you can always come to me. We’re in this together now."

Levi nodded, his expression softening as he looked at her. "Yeah... together."

It was a partnership, a mutual understanding that would guide them through whatever challenges lay ahead. And as they stood there, side by side, Nephilia couldn’t help but feel that this was only the beginning of something far greater.

[transingthoseformers]

Misread a post and thought you said biting and chewing on the inside of Shockwave

Now I'm thinking about Shockwave with the pussy teeth, if that's something that interests you 🧍‍♂️

🪶

I'm willing to dabble a little...

But mostly because that's kind of a badass image