[POV: Amon]
In the silence between heartbeats, Amon stood within the cracks of reality, watching.
The chamber was dark, lit only by flickering candlelight—though even the flames burned with a quiet unease. It wasn't natural fire. It was fire that burned because he convinced the wax it had always meant to be a torch.
Amon adjusted the silver monocle perched over his eye, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
"Riser is adapting well," he mused, his voice echoing within the metaphysical rift. "But he's still unaware. Excellent."
He glanced down at a mirrored surface rippling like a pond. In it, Riser Phenex stood in his private quarters, training half-heartedly under the watch of his sister. The parasite—his—nestled deep within the folds of Riser's essence, dormant but steadily altering the young noble's fate.
"I wonder…" Amon's fingers brushed the air and parted the image. "Will you shatter your cage when the right moment comes, or remain a puppet dancing for a god's forgotten throne?"
A pause. Then: "No matter. Your fate belongs to me now."
Amon turned, robes fluttering without breeze, as whispers poured from the shadowed walls—faint echoes of fates stolen, gods betrayed, oaths cracked like broken glass.
He would not act recklessly. Not yet. The game was just beginning, and his pieces moved perfectly.
—
[Scene: Occult Research Club – Afternoon]
Issei wiped sweat from his brow, panting hard after sparring with Kiba. "Man, that hurt! You goin' easy on me or what?"
Kiba offered a graceful smile. "Believe it or not, I was."
"Cheeky pretty-boy…" Issei grumbled.
Rias sat behind her desk, chin resting on her palm. Her crimson hair shimmered under the room's gentle light, but her eyes were elsewhere—distant, calculating.
"This match against Riser…" she murmured.
Issei glanced at her, then at Akeno who was brewing tea in the corner. "Bucho, you okay? You've been thinking about him a lot lately."
"Of course she has," Akeno replied with her ever-playful lilt. "It's her engagement on the line."
Rias frowned. "I don't want to marry Riser. I won't let my future be decided by others. We'll win the Rating Game… even if it kills us."
Koneko, munching on her sweets, murmured, "Let's not die."
Issei puffed out his chest. "Don't worry, Rias! I'll blast that chicken-flame guy with my Boosted Gear and save the day! Believe it!"
"Don't mix up your shounen quotes," Kiba muttered.
Rias allowed herself a small smile. "Thank you, Issei."
Her eyes flicked toward the door.
She hadn't said anything aloud, but lately… something about Riser's presence felt different. He hadn't visited her again since that awkward encounter—but she sensed a shift. Not in his power. In his… behavior.
Still, nothing concrete.
—
[Scene: Grigori Headquarters – Underground Chamber]
Azazel leaned against the cold metal console, arms crossed, watching data scroll across the holographic screen.
Michael stood beside him, serene but stern.
"You're certain?" the archangel asked.
Azazel tapped a sequence and expanded an image—a faint aura signature, twisted like a Möbius strip.
"Monocle. Silver staff. A tendency to talk in riddles and make gods paranoid. Yeah… I'd say I'm sure."
Michael's eyes darkened. "Amon."
"The Blasphemer." Azazel's voice dropped. "My brother."
Michael nodded solemnly. "I remember him. Not just from Heaven—but from before. He deceived even Yahweh."
"And now he's back," Azazel murmured, narrowing his eyes. "And he tried to infect that boy. Issei Hyoudou."
Michael closed his eyes. "Then it means he's after the Sacred Gear."
Azazel's brow furrowed. "That's what I thought. But something doesn't add up. Amon doesn't steal tools. He steals... significance."
Michael opened his eyes again. "You mean... he wants Issei's fate?"
"Yes." Azazel's voice became steel. "He's manipulating Riser too. Though no one's noticed. Not even Riser."
Michael's wings flickered, golden and still. "What do you intend to do?"
"Watch. Wait." Azazel turned. "And if necessary… kill him."
—
[Scene: Riser's Estate – Night]
Riser stared at the mirror. He saw himself. But not quite.
His usual cocky grin, the effortless confidence—it was all there. And yet… there was something behind his eyes now. A glint that felt alien. Ancient.
He blinked. "Just nerves," he muttered.
Behind him, his sister Ravel knocked. "Brother? We leave for the Rating Game preparations tomorrow."
"I know," Riser answered. "Let's crush that little rebellion."
Ravel paused. "…You sound different."
He turned. Smiled. "Do I? Must be the excitement."
Ravel nodded hesitantly, then left.
As the door closed, Riser turned back to the mirror. And for just a second… his reflection smirked before he did.
—
[Scene: Occult Research Club – Late Evening]
Issei sat alone on the couch, Boosted Gear dormant on his arm.
He stared at it. "Why'd someone like that come after me…?"
He'd been told about the parasite. About the being called Amon. He didn't get it—truth be told, it freaked him out more than he let on. The idea that someone could control him from the inside…
He clenched his fist.
"No way. I'm not letting anyone use me."
Rias stepped in, eyes soft. "Issei."
He jumped. "Bucho?!"
She approached, sitting beside him. "I… just wanted to say thank you. For everything."
Issei blushed. "I-it's no big deal! I mean, I'm your servant and all!"
She smiled. "You're more than that."
He didn't know what to say.
She stood. "Get some sleep. We train early tomorrow."
"Right…"
He watched her go.
"…I won't lose. Not to some flame freak. Not to some parasite. I'll protect them."
The Boosted Gear pulsed faintly.