A cloudy day enveloped the city in a gray shroud. Raindrops lazily flowed down the glass of the coffee shop, leaving behind winding paths. I sat at a table by the window, mechanically stirring the cold coffee that the waiter had just brought with a spoon. My gaze wandered along the wet street, but my thoughts were somewhere far away, hovering in the clouds of memories. In one hand was a phone, my fingers habitually scrolling through the news feed, social networks, notifications from work. All this was background, meaningless noise, while I was drowning in my thoughts.
How quickly does time fly?
I sip bitter coffee. Just recently I was full of energy, burning with enthusiasm, ready to conquer the world.
And now?
Squeezed like a lemon. Working days replace each other in a merciless rhythm, drowning in routine and hopelessness. I used to believe that I could move mountains, but now it all comes down to paying off loans, utilities, and buying something to eat. Life was slipping away like sand through my fingers. I smile sadly, putting my cup on the table and put my phone next to me. My hand reached for my backpack, where an old, slightly tattered volume of the High School DxD manga lay. The cover with its colorful characters evoked a warm but bitter nostalgia.
I run my fingers along the worn edges, remembering how I got this volume. Back then, in my school years, buying manga was a whole adventure. You had to earn some money, which was not easy for a teenager, and then wait for delivery for months. The Internet and delivery services existed, but everything was not as simple as it is now - a couple of clicks, a couple of dollars, and in a couple of days the volume is yours. Back then, every purchase was an event, and the wait was excruciating, but exciting. Sometimes the package never arrived, and it was a small tragedy. I smiled, remembering that naive joy.
How did I get to this point?
The answer was obvious. It all started at school, when I came across anime. It captured me, so quickly, madly. Each new episode was a holiday, but good titles quickly ended, and I craved more. Then I discovered manga - it was like a new world. Pictures, emotions, stories - all this absorbed me. But sooner or later, manga exhausted itself, and I asked myself: What's next?
The answer was novels and ranobe. The transition from bright animation to static pictures, and then to pure text seemed crazy, but I got hooked. And then I came across fan fiction - a real Pandora's box. Fan stories opened up an endless stream of content, where beloved worlds came to life in new versions, adventures, destinies. It was a madness that fueled my passion for years. But now even fan fictions started to get boring, and I was left alone with routine and emptiness.
My gaze fell on the DxD volume. When I first saw this anime as a schoolboy, it struck me with its frankness. Nude heroines, lack of censorship - it was like an explosion for a teenage brain. I watched it with bated breath, not really delving into the plot, enjoying only the fan service. But later, as an adult, I saw something more behind it. Behind the bright girls and comedy, there was a world with great potential - intrigue, battles, complex relationships. I immersed myself in DxD fan fiction, read everything that was considered worthy, and each story left a mark on my soul. Now, sitting in a coffee shop, I looked at the volume and asked myself:
Why did I feel so nostalgic?
I took a sip of coffee, asked the waiter for more and again stared out the window. The clouds began to disperse, and weak rays of sun broke through the grayness. I couldn't help but smile, imagining how great it would be to be in the world of DxD. Talk to the heroes, meet Rias, Grayfia, Aken, Issei, and immerse myself in their adventures. But I quickly dismissed the thought.
These are just fantasies.
In that world, an ordinary person like me wouldn't survive a day. Dragons, demons, angels - all of that looks good on screen, but in reality it would mean a quick death. It's better to stay here, in a boring but safe world.
Suddenly, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and my heart rate slow down. My breathing became shallow, and I instinctively grabbed my chest.
Heart attack?
I've always had problems with my heart - a slight tingling that I ignored, thinking it would go away. Doctors threw up their hands, saying that everything was fine, and I stopped paying attention to it. Now, it seemed, I was reaping the fruits of my recklessness. My mind became clouded, my eyes closed, and I felt myself falling to the side, knocking over a cup and a volume of manga.
The screams and panic around me were heard as if through cotton wool. My gaze fell on the opened page of the manga, where Sirzechs Lucifer sat on the throne, and Grayfia Lucifuga stood next to him, her cold gaze full of devotion. I smiled bitterly.
Quite poetic.
Before the darkness swallowed me.
***
Waking up was hard, like emerging from a deep, viscous sleep. My eyes stubbornly refused to open, my eyelids felt like lead. But somewhere on the edge of my consciousness, a thought flashed:
If I am still conscious of myself, then I am alive.
The doctors must have revived me after that attack in the coffee shop. However, when I finally forced myself to open my eyes, the world around me was not a hospital room with white walls, but something completely different. A huge hall, richly decorated, with high ceilings and exquisite furniture, surrounded me. The aesthetic of the space was almost regal, with dark wood paneling and gold accents. The main question that was pounding in the temples was:
Where am I?
I looked around, trying to collect my thoughts. Papers, pens, and inkwells were scattered across the massive table in front of me. My hands, resting on the arms of the chair, caught my attention - they were covered in calluses, abrasions, and scars that I had never had. I froze, looking at them as if they were someone else's.
What the hell?
My heart began to beat faster, and I tried to stand up, but I stumbled, feeling that my body was... higher? Heavier? I grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling, and then noticed several strands of red hair falling across my face.
Red?!
My hand trembled as it touched my head, feeling long, thick hair that was clearly not mine. I ran my fingers through the strands, looking at their bright, fiery hue, and panic began to overwhelm me.
There was a large mirror with a gilded frame nearby. I staggered towards it, each step giving my body an unfamiliar weight. When my reflection became clear, I froze, not believing my eyes. In front of me stood a tall, handsome man with long red hair and piercing blue eyes. His aristocratic clothes, reminiscent of ancient robes, emphasized his imperious posture. He was painfully similar to Sirzechs Lucifer from High School DxD. I stared at him, unable to utter a word, while my mind screamed:
It's not me!
Could it be... reincarnation?
The thought was so absurd that I almost laughed, but panic was growing. I was shaking, trying to comprehend what was happening, when suddenly I coughed, and black blood spurted onto my hand. I stared at her, horror gripping my body. The coughing got worse, sending pain through my lungs, and I spat out more of the horrible stuff, which now coated my palms and dripped onto the floor. I was choking, my heart pounding, and my mind was in hysterics. Death? Already? If this was a second chance, I had been tricked. What was the point of transferring me into a body that was about to die?
At that moment, a black letter materialized in front of me, hovering in midair. I stared at it, stunned, until it opened on its own, revealing the text. The words, written in elegant script, read:
[Greetings, new arrival! Congratulations on your transmigration. How are you feeling? I imagine it's crap, since I know what's going on with you. I'm the one who cursed Sirzechs Lucifer as a child, dooming him to a slow death, in order to prepare this body for you. Why? It's a secret. But don't worry - this is an alternate universe where the protagonist doesn't exist, and Sirzechs was doomed anyway. Your arrival doesn't really change anything. But you won't give up, right? I'm giving you a chance to become something more. Maybe we'll even meet. In the meantime, as is customary, I'll give you a small gift: a bottle of growth and healing pills. You'll figure it out. Good luck!]
The letter burst into flames and disappeared, leaving behind a small bottle with several pills that rolled across the floor. I picked it up, still shaking, my fingers shaking so badly I almost dropped it again.
I'm not going to die
I open the bottle. I swallowed the bitter pill, feeling it burn my throat, and then the heat spread through my body. My head was splitting, fragments of memories flashed before my eyes - alien, gray, like frames from an old film. I saw battles, intrigues, faces I had never known, but the emotions were muted, detached. When the visions receded, I breathed heavily, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The panic began to subside, and my body began to feel a strength I had never had before. I clenched my fists, and the air around me trembled, a light gust of wind knocked the papers off the table, scattering them across the room.
"Ha-ha-ha!"
I laughed - loudly, almost hysterically. It was madness, but I was alive. Alive! Power coursed through my veins, and I felt... different. But my laughter was cut short when the door to the hall swung open. I turned around, and my heart sank. In the doorway stood a woman whose beauty eclipsed everything I had seen in my past life. Silver hair, cold but deep eyes, a graceful figure in a strict dress - my subconscious whispered:
Grayfia Lucifuge. Sirzechs Lucifer's wife. My... wife?
She quickly ran up to me, her eyes full of worry and love. Her hands gently touched my shoulders, holding me as I tried to catch my breath.
"Sirzechs, are you okay?" Her voice was shaking with worry. "What happened?"
I looked into her eyes, feeling my heart pounding. When in my past life had anyone ever looked at me like that? With such care, such love? I was just an ordinary guy, lost in a routine, and no one had ever looked at me like I was the center of their world. Warmth spread through my body, causing a tingling sensation, but then a cold thought struck me:
She's not looking at me. She's looking at Sirzechs. At her husband.
My face must have shown the pain, because Grayfia frowned, her hand still on my shoulder.
"Sirzechs?" She repeated, her voice wary.
I swallowed, trying to collect myself. The memories of Sirzechs that I had gained from the pill were fragmentary, but I knew that Grayfia was his queen, his support, the mother of his child. She was willing to follow him to the ends of the earth, and the knowledge made me sick. I had taken over his body, his life, his love—I shouldn't be here. But her gaze, her warmth, her closeness made my heart beat faster, and I couldn't resist.
"It's okay, Grayfia," I said, my voice hoarse but gentle. "Don't worry."
She narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing me. Her hand slid to my elbow, and she led me to a chair, helping me sit down. Her fingers touched my arm gently, her gaze full of concern, and it made me feel awkward—but in a pleasant way. I looked at her, trying to figure out how to act in this body, in this life. She didn't know I wasn't her Sirzechs, and that thought was like a knife in my heart.
"How can you be okay?" she said, her voice stern, but there was pain in it. "You can't exert yourself in your condition!"
I remembered that the real Sirzechs had never hidden his illness from her, the curse that was slowly killing him. She was his closest person, his confidant, and he shared everything with her. That knowledge only made me feel more guilty. But I looked into her eyes, feeling my heart betray me, succumbing to her warmth, her care.
"I've gotten better," I said, trying to sound confident. "Really, Grayfia."
She looked at me doubtfully, her lips trembling slightly, but she didn't argue. Instead, she continued to hold my hand, her fingers gently squeezing my palm. I felt her warmth, her love, and it was both the most beautiful and the most painful thing I had ever experienced.
I am not the one you love
But my body, my heart, everything was drawn to her. I was a stranger in this world, but her gaze made me want to become what she thought I was. Want to be Sirzechs Lucifer.
I couldn't take my eyes off Grayfia. Her kindness, her care, the warmth of her hands - all of it was too attractive for a broken person like me.
My past life was cold, devoid of parental warmth, friends, or love. The only outlet was anime, manga, fan fiction - worlds where I could feel alive, even for a moment. But now, looking into Grayfia's eyes, I felt something new, unknown. My breathing quickened, my heart beat so hard that it seemed like it was about to burst out of my chest. My face was burning, and I felt myself blushing.
Was this falling in love?
I had never experienced anything like this, but this feeling was frightening and beautiful at the same time.
Grayfia must have mistaken my state for something else. Her hand quickly touched my forehead, and I felt her warm breath, the light scent of her perfume. She was so close that I couldn't help but tense up, afraid that any movement I made would be misinterpreted.
"Sirzechs, what's wrong?" Her voice was stern, but full of concern. "You're all red! You need to rest!"
I gently take her hand, trying to imitate the voice of Sirzechs from his memories - deep, confident, with a slight warmth.
"It's okay, Grayfia," I said, looking into her eyes. "Really, don't worry. I've recovered."
Her eyebrows rose in surprise, a silent question hanging in the air. I knew she wouldn't believe it that easily - Grayfia was too perceptive. She would start asking questions, and I needed to come up with an explanation that wouldn't reveal the truth. Tell her that I'm not her Sirzechs, but a stranger from another world, occupying her husband's body? That would be absurd.
"Hey, Grayfia, I'm not your Sirzechs, I'm some guy who rented his body. It's okay, I'll give it back and we'll sort this out!"
No, that sounded crazy, and I didn't want to complicate an already difficult situation.
"I found a way," I began, trying to sound confident. "In an old grimoire I've been looking for for a long time. I used it in a fit of rage, and... lo and behold, I'm healed. Got myself back in shape.
I raised my hand to confirm, focusing on the magic that now flowed through this body. A small ball of dark energy formed on the tip of my finger, shimmering with destructive power. I manipulated it like a toy, even though I knew from Sirzechs's memories that this tiny ball could reduce a city to dust. It was a show of control, of power, of confidence.
Grayfia froze, her eyes widening in surprise, but then her face softened. She exhaled in relief, the tension leaving her shoulders. Her gaze became gentle, affectionate, meant only for me… no, for Sirzechs. To everyone else, she had always been a cold queen, with a piercing gaze and an impenetrable mask. This moment of vulnerability, this openness of hers, astounded me. I tightened my grip on her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin, and repeated,
"It's okay, Grayfia. Really. It'll be okay now." She believed - not me, but his voice, his confidence, his tone. Suddenly she stepped closer and hugged me, her chest pressed softly against mine, and I felt warmth spread through my body. My heart was pounding, my thoughts were confused. I hugged her back, breathing in her scent, feeling her closeness. It was new to me, unfamiliar, almost frightening. But at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder:
Do I have a chance? To become what she thinks I am? Or will I always be a stranger in this body?
My mind was in turmoil, but I decided to push these thoughts away. My stomach rumbled traitorously, and to ease the situation, I said with a slight smile:
"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to have a snack."
Grayfia laughed softly, her laughter like the sound of bells, and I couldn't help but stare at her. That sound, her smile, it was like balm to my soul.
I must fight for my happiness.
I may have occupied Sirzechs' body, it may sound like stealing, but to the outside world, I am Sirzechs Lucifer, Grayfia's husband, a symbol of love and strength in the Underworld. And if that's the case, then I will do everything I can to justify it.
But my thoughts couldn't completely ignore reality. The fragments of Sirzechs' memories that I had received painted a disturbing picture. The Underworld was in turmoil. The factions—devils, angels, fallen—were all tensely watching each other. The strange movements in Heaven, the activity of the fallen, the rumors of ancient enemies awakening—all of it created a sense of impending disorder. Sirzechs Lucifer had fought for the world, and now that burden was on my shoulders. I looked at Grayfia, at her love, her devotion, and I realized that I was doing this not just for myself, but for her. For their family, for their world.
"Let's go," I said, squeezing her hand gently. "We have things to talk about… and eat."
She nodded, her eyes still full of concern, but with a glimmer of relief in them. We headed toward the dining hall, and I felt my resolve growing. I wasn't ready for this life, this role, this love. But I wouldn't give up. I would take Sirzechs' place, not as a thief, but as someone worthy of his name.
For Grayfia, for this world, for myself.