She Who Laughs (Vampire the Masquerade/DxD)

[Critian Caceorte]

Hello, and welcome all, to the World of Darkne-

...Aaaaand it's gone.

This story, essentially, was the waking fever dream of mine for the last few months. I had thought of the idea of the Antediluvians, the all powerful and mythical progenitors of the Vampire Clans, reincarnating into another setting for a while now, but it was only recently that I came up with the setting in question: High School DxD, a setting where the Consensus would have been, and indeed was, screwed and DP'ed to Kingdom Cum, and beyond. Since I've already written stuff for SB and SV, I also figured I might as well complete the Trifecta and post something here.

So! Summary: Gehenna has occurred. The Antediluvians are dead. The werewolves and werebears and werecrows and werepeople, what have you, are just hours away from completing their ritual to free and purify the Wyrm, thus resetting humanity back to the stone age but healing the minds of the Triat in exchange. Caine is the only elder vampire still left, and since he can't leave the Earth to avoid being destroyed due to the specificity of God's curse, he decides that, what the hell, maybe it's time he becomes a better grandparent and help his kids. And so, he does. He transports all of their souls to a world where God is Dead, so that they might reincarnate and live nice, happy mortal lives.

Of course, things are most definitely not going to go down that way, but you can't blame the guy for trying, right?

Anyway, that's the premise of this story: Reborn Antediluvians in DxD, what could go wrong? Well, as those same former vampires will soon find out, quite a lot.

Quite a lot.

 

[Critian Caceorte]

"It seems that this is the end of the world as humanity knows it."

A lone voice spoke out loud in the void that what had been known as the Shadowlands had become. A translucent figure, eyes unseeing but instead visioning as the whole of what was occurring in the world of living flashed before his sight. The trickster dead, laid low by reflections and nukes. The dragon, constrained yet further by the spider as she tightened her grip on him and his children. He gripped the top of the brick wall to his right tightly as image after image scrolled past the inside of his eyelids. The usurper traveling to the Beehive, as his far more awarded relatives kill and consume what the chaff of humanity. The light of the One, making his second debut amongst humanity to rally it's champions. The changers of reality, bound in war with the corRuptEd tOolMaKerS-

The spirit clawed at his ephemeral cheek to regain his focus, his eyes briefly opening to reveal the clouded surface of a blind man. "There's no time for falling back into the Madness… I must see what will happen, not what has already occured. I must!" The stare closed, as more scenes flowed by. Dracul taking control of humanity's form, Earthshaker failing to merge with her prey, the Shape- Sister, screaming in frustration as her plans for ascendancy crumble- A gasp issues from his mouth, the past and present finally transitioning to the future in his gaze. Dragon shakes off Spider, and humanity lives. "And Kindred die. I see."

Malakai, lost soul of the entity now known as Malkav, crumbled to the ground and onto the wall as exhaustion and the weight of the future fell upon his shoulders. A prophet, one who lost his sanity in life and unlife, yet only regained it once death had passed by. Even now, as the Seventh Great Maelstrom sought to destroy what was left of the Shadowlands, he merely sat there, and observed, as civilization crumbled under the force of gods and godlike beings. He sighed in his hopelessness, the scarred optimism dying off in his voice as he spoke, "At least humanity will still have a future… That's a far better result than most would have expected. It only took a reset to a time before the stone age, so I guess that's a decent price to pay for survival." His face contrasted the words he was speaking, a grimace formed on his visage, a once handsome face to contrast his sister's divine beauty now marred by self-inflicted scars and pulled out hair. And to think, such defects had been acquired in his time as a ghost alone, never mind the damage he had done to himself while he still possessed a body and its insanity. But, the time when good looks would have benefitted him had long past, and now he lay, a single soul in an empty city of shadows, relegated to the backwaters of history as the living world as he knew it died a sudden, but painful, death.

He started to chuckle as a darkly humorous thought crept into his mind. "It's funny… Arikel, I and everyone else thought it would be the One returning that would kill us and render the vampire extinct… but nope! It was all our own actions and nature itself that proved our undoing. Why else would things turn out this way? Sister, much as I loved her, was a stuck-up bitch who slept with more people than she had IQ points, Saulot only achieved inner peace after making a mess for everyone else to deal with, and yet every one of our cousins were worse!" He paused, then corrected his statement. "Well, Haqim was alright, so I guess he didn't deserve what he received. But one man out of 13 does not redeem the rest! It was hardly any wonder our Grandfather decided to lay his curses down upon us just as the One lay its upon him! He merely accelerated the process of our eventual self-destruction…" He trailed off, eyes opening once again to take in the realm around him… and to reminisce.

He was in the echo of some fallen city… which that was, he had no idea. It didn't matter anyway. Wherever he looked, despite the difference in architecture, all he could see in his mind was the long fallen City of Enoch. Oh, he wasn't enough of a fool to idealize the city itself, he was more than aware of the barbaric practices which occurred within its walls… yet, he still had some good memories of his time spent there with his sister and the others. Debating philosophy with Saulot, Set and Irad as the moon shone overhead; going hunting (for animals, not men) with Ennoia and Churka, gazing into the waters of prophecy with Zillah and the Eldest, watching in wonder as Arikel shaped the stone underneath her fingertips into monuments of sublimity… and growing crops with his grandfather. That was a joy from his past which he sorely missed, hearing Caine instruct him in how best to arrange the grape vines to produce the greatest tasting wine (how he knew which tasted best, while he was in his undead state, Malakai still didn't know and chalked up to his heightened senses), which places to plant the flowers so that they would receive the most of that sunlight which the Kindred were denied. Those few moments of happiness, rare as they were and rarer still as time went off, helped to color his life beyond the discordant state of his mind. It was sad, then, that their time in the First City (a mere three thousand years, at that) had been founded on unsteady ground, ready to collapse at the slightest provoca… tion…

Malakai blinked as a new sound, something that shouldn't be possible considering how all of the other ghosts in this place had been consumed by the Tempest even as more poured in, filtered into his ear. Granted, due to how powerful his hearing was, that sound came from dozens of miles away, and covered up by the roar of the tempest, but it was still noticeable… and coming closer. He closed his eyes as he willed his clairvoyance to orient itself towards the incoming object. What he saw was… unexpected, to say the least.

Coming down the translucent road which once connected this city of nonexistence to others, was a wheeled wagon which sputtered as puffs of smoke came out of the tail end. A car, he corrected himself, having seen such machines before in prior prophesying periods. It was painted and stylized entirely in black, but that wasn't what made it stand out (aside from its currently shifting position, of course). No, that would be the vibrancy of its appearance and form. "Normal" objects within the Shadowlands had a dull or translucent appearance, owing to their origin as mere memories of objects coming from the Skinlands or "Real World". That this particular vehicle was painted a bright green and looked as solid as any object on the other side of the veil was… strange, to say the least. As it crept along the street, his sight focused on the individual driving the car. As the image became clearer, his face morphed from an expression of surprise to one of utter shock.

"It can't be…" he muttered, "He's still alive? How? It's been millennia since…" he trailed off on his sentence even as he rose to his feet to try and move closer to the slowly encroaching object.

It took him longer than he would have liked to run towards the car, even in life he had never been as great of a master of the art of speed, as any of his siblings or cousins… or nieces or nephews and so on. Long story short, for one of his (former) kind, he was slow. His pace picked up to a sprint as he raced by building after dull grey building across the broken cobblestone streets. Eventually, after quite some time he finally was able to spot the vehicle with his natural senses, and in turn, it's occupant.

The man was, physically, of Arabic descent, with a pale hue to his bronze skin tone, and long coal black hair held together in a ponytail by tied twine. Atop his nose were a large pair of circular sunglasses, and on the bottom of his ears were a pair of gold earrings, the last remnants of his previous occupation he still kept. He wore for this occasion a red polo shirt and tan slacks, and Malakai had to admit it was odd seeing the man's upper body covered. After all, the last memory he possessed of him was the man only clothed by a simple white skirt (Weren't they called kilts in this day and age? Maybe his memory was failing him) girded up by, what else, a girdle, and wearing a golden medallion that signified his office and importance over all his subordinates.

Malakai tried to speak, to communicate his surprise at this sudden appearance, but no words came out. The man turned the key in his car, shutting it off, before stepping out the left side and falling without a hitch onto the dusty pavement. Looking up at the spirit, his face shifted to give a small smile as he opened his arms widely. Confused by the action, the Antediluvian could only stand still as the shorter man moved forward and hugged him.

"It is nice to see you in decent health, lord Malakai," remarked Jabal, the Ghoul of Caine.

The man in question could only look down, still in disbelief before finally able to put in the effort to respond. "Jabal… How… You're dead!"

The Ghoul blinked before pulling away from his embrace and looking the spirit in the eye… before chuckling. "Oh, no, sorry to worry you, my lord. Despite my appearance here in the Underworld, I in fact have yet to die, but I can see quite easily how you could make the connection."

Malakai shook his head. "No, I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about the Flood. How have you survived for so long, and through that disaster? When the 13 of us gathered once more after the waters receded, none of us were able to find you! We thought that you either drowned in the sanctified waters, or had been devoured by one of us for nourishment while we had been caught up in the rage of the Beast!"

Jabal blinked, before slowly shaking his head. "No, none of that occurred. When Lord Caine informed me as to what was occurring, as the rain fell down upon our heads, he created a chamber in the earth for me to rest in, alongside a stockade of his blood. He directed me that once the floodwaters had evaporated, I should still remain inside that chamber and only use my gifts to view things from a distance. I believe my Lord used his great power to hide away the evidence of the chamber's existence, so that it could never be found. By the time that you or any of Enoch's brood were of strong enough power to detect me, you had obviously put the idea of my survival out of your minds, and thus did not bother to look further. I had only left my hideaway after seeing Churka's demise in the Indus Valley, I couldn't bear to see any more of your siblings and cousins die by that point."

He snorted, as his voice took on a melancholic tone. "Of course, by then, it had been much too late. Only 5 years later, and all of you began to awaken and kill each other and your broods. It was only a couple of days ago that I finally received a new command from my Lord: to find you, and transport you to a new location. The first step of that mission was accomplished in just this moment."

Malakai furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around at his surroundings. "Jabal, we're in the Underworld, and I'm but a wraith. There IS no new location that I can go to, outside of Oblivion to be destroyed. Unless…" he trailed off as his eyes widened. His gaze fell back down upon the servant's head. "Are you taking me to see my Grandfather?" It was the only logical thing he could think of. Jabal, after all, was Caine's personal servant, and the only semi-mortal man outside of the Mages to have as much power as one of the other Flood Survivors.

Thus, it was to his surprise that Jabal actually shook his head in the negative. "Actually, no. Lord Caine is currently enjoying his last moments with a scholar of Ennoia's brood, back in the world of the living. Due to the specificity of God's curse upon him, he cannot escape into any other realm to avoid the planet's inevitable destruction of all things STATIC. After all, he was cursed to 'Wander the Earth,' and not 'Wander Mars.'" The ghoul gave a sharp laugh at that little joke. It wasn't really funny, to Malaki's senses at least. "No, there is another place where I am to take you, the last of the 3rd​ Generation. A… different place. Not a paradise, for most definitions of the word, but certainly not one where you need worry about the things that plagued you and your compatriots for millennia."

Malakai's former dumbfounded state returned with a vengeance. "Then where the hell is this place supposed to be? Are you suggesting that we go beyond the ninth planet into that realm of space where things man was never supposed to know or encounter thrive?"

The stare that Jabal gave back was a flat one. "My lord, your Grandfather is many things. Inadequate with regards to children or family, perhaps, but he's no fool. Not even you, back when you were still roaming the earth in your madness, were a fool, simply a troubled man. No, Lord Caine wants me to take you to a world, a new one. A new… Earth." The antediluvian was taken aback by this, so the servant rushed to explain. "Lord Caine felt that while he was justified in laying down those curses upon you and your descendants, he hadn't been a good parent to the 13 of you back in the days of the First City, which he believed is what lead to most of your degradations into insanity and megalomania. Present company excluded, of course. So, as recompense, he wanted to see what would happen when you were all granted a second chance at mortality. Obviously, with the world dying around us and the werecreatures battling it out, that's not possible here, but on another Earth, one not connected to this reality, the possibility lies there.

He tried utilizing his power to search for a world without God, whose influence he believed is what led to the rest of you falling into madness, present company not excluded this time. While I don't know the specifics of that endeavor, all I know is that while some were found, placing you and your siblings and cousins on those worlds would have been a disaster for a number of reasons. It wasn't until just before I ran into your Grandfather again that he had found a suitable place to live."

"And what world is that?" Malakai questioned, still in disbelief of all that he was being told. It wasn't every day, after all, that one was told about a new lease on life that wasn't some form of scam.

"I told you he tried looking for worlds without God," Jabal began, "what he found eventually was even better. A world where God was dead."

Silence invaded into that space, as the taller of the two men could not prevent his jaw from dropping. No words were spoken for many minutes, as he contemplated those preposterous words. "That… that's impossible, isn't it?" he finally managed to grit out.

"I thought so as well, at first, but Lord Caine assured me that it was the truth. Out there, in the multitude of universes, there is one where the Lord God once existed, but eventually ceased to be. A factor of damnation for the Angels, certainly, but for men like us? It is El Dorado and Zion mixed into one round whole."

"And Grandfather wants to simply, what, resurrect us? Reincarnate us? While the old world crumbles back into the primitive ages? Whatever did we do, that I did, that deserved such? Why should I have earned such a reward, when all I did was-" Malakai found his words cut off as Jabal's hand pincer-grabbed his cheeks to silence him. The other hand gripped his shoulder hard.

"Never say that," rebuked the servant harshly, his eyes piercing like arrows into Malakai's own. "Never say that you are deserving of nothing. It was no fault of your own that you were cursed with an illness of the mind from the One. Not a single bit of it. You, of all of your siblings and cousins, are the most innocent of your collective crimes. You wouldn't blame a child for doing a wrong they had no perception of, would you? So stop thinking the same for yourself!" The ghoul took a moment to calm down, before he continued on, his hand letting go of Malakai's face as he did so. "Originally, your Grandfather was only going have you, Haqim and perhaps Saulot reincarnated, because he felt that of the 13, you three were the most repentant and innocent. I think the events of the past two months, however, have changed his mind, and now in his compassion he wants to see if all 13… no, if all 16 of you can improve and become better people if given the opportunity."

The antediluvian blinked, as he tried counting up the third generation members that he knew of. "Absimilliard, Arikel, Cappadocius, Churka, Ennoia, the Giovanni head, Haqim, myself, Saulot, Sutekh, the Usurper, the Eldest, Troile, and Ventru… that's 14," he muttered out aloud.

"You're forgetting Ilyes and Laza," Jabal smugly countered. The look on his lord's face as he realized what that statement meant was far too enjoyable to see. Eventually that expression morphed into a deadpan face, one primed for snark.

"…If I ask how was that even possible, you're going to have an explanation ready, aren't you?"

"Correct," the servant confirmed.

"…I'm just going to assume you're right and move on."

The ghoul chuckled at that statement, it seemed his Lord's quota for big surprises today had been exceeded. "Very well then, Lord Malakai. Hop on into the right seat of the car, I'll start it up." The spirit did so as Jabal moved to the front of the car and rotated the lever on the front in one smooth circle, starting the engine back up. As the vehicle sputtered to life, he hopped back into the driver's seat and pulled a lever on the left, a shudder passing through the carriage, before he stomped onto one of the pedals and made the car move.

Malakai inspected the vehicle once the two of them were in motion. "How did you even come to acquire a vehicle such as this? It's not the ghost of a car, I can tell that much, so how did you even get it here?"

Jabal laughed, obviously this was a story of his that he liked to tell. "Shortly after I had left my hideaway, I came across an upstart Euthanatoi who was convinced that I was a 'source of evil in the world that needed to be purged.' Said that straight to my face, even. So, since he decided that the world needed to be rid of me, I figured that he needed to be rid of his Model T. He's not dead, he only suffered a few broken bones, and I believed this ride would help me in my journeys around the Earth. As providence would have it, he had enchanted the damn thing to be able to go into the Underworld, and considering my current mission, I'm certainly not complaining."

He continued laughing as they rode along, though Malakai couldn't help but ask: "What is a Euthanatoi?"

The servant waved him off. "Just a wizard serial killer, no need to worry about it."

That wasn't exactly reassuring.

*****

Malakai felt the change when it happened. Suddenly, what seemed like a dismal reality quickly transitioned into a strange realm of forests and wildlife. Oddly, he felt something that had been tugging on his soul… snap. Whatever it had been, it had lead back into the Underworld, which they had presumably left.

"We've left the Underworld, and are now in what some call the 'Middle Umbra.' At least, I think they do, I have little experience with the Spirit Realms. In any case, there is a mage outpost near here that had been abandoned in the current events. Normally, we'd be barred from entry, but thankfully the facility runs on passwords, and not some form of scanning for reasons I know not. Probably just laziness of some sort, now that I think about it. Regardless, the reason we are headed there is so that I can undo the damage that's been done to your soul thanks to your time spent in the Underworld."

The spirit sharply turned his head towards the ghoul. "How are we supposed to do that? Not even Grandfather or Saulot had the ability to heal a soul as old as myself from the wounds of Entropy."

"Correct," agreed Jabal. "Even the healer's art can only resurrect the recently deceased. However, in the facility there is a device that can reverse the damage done to a soul, thus transforming you into an honorary member of the 'recently deceased.' From there, I simply have to take your spirit to the Material World, and Lord Caine can incarnate and transport you to the other world in a new body."

"So we are going to see my Grandfather, then?" questioned Malakai.

Jabal took one hand off of the steering wheel to shake it in a "so-so" manner. "Yes and no. How the device works is that it places you into a vessel for containment once it is finished healing the damage you sustained, presumably for your safety. You likely won't even see your Grandfather's face when he transports your soul, as we'll end up thousands of miles away from where he is on Earth. The only reason he can even pull off a feat like this from that distance is-"

"Because he's Grandfather, and he can do things like that," interrupted the grandson.

The servant nodded. "Correct. For all his limitations, Lord Caine's power is still astonishing. I still haven't figured out how exactly he created that sundial of his, and it's been millennia since the First City was still around!"

Malakai frowned in thought as they passed through a steel gate which interrupted the endless wild. "I think Haqim eventually figured it out, but I don't remember if that's true or not." He paused in his recollection as a large grey building suddenly appeared before them. "JABAL-"

The ghoul was already pushing on the brakes as the tires of the vehicles screeched to a halt, eventually stopping an inch before the duo would have crashed into stone wall. Pulling on the parking brake, Jabal turned off the car, a happy expression on his face. "I think I'm really getting the handle of this 'driving' thing! Wonderful!" Malakai was gobsmacked at the man's cheerfulness despite them almost having a collision. Not that it would have hurt them, per se, as they were both of supernatural durability, but the car was presumably of less formidable make. He shook his head in disbelief, muttering as he followed the servant around the facility.

"I think his 'gift' for horses is translating to his 'skill' at driving."

In short, he had no talent whatsoever.

*****

To a man who had mainly lived in the days of man where food was more important than money and nakedness the fashion standard of the millennia, a facility such as this was quite astonishing to walk through. Devices and gadgets he could not name (and that was after having experienced much of the past centuries through his clairvoyance!) mixed in with simple tools like hammers and levers, albeit scaled up to size and filled with more parts than he had ephemeral teeth. They had entered through a small door in a covert corner of the facility, wherein Jabal had pulled out a small piece of green paper ("a post-it note," his mind told him, though how he knew that he did not know), read off of it, and pushed several times into a form of tablet fused into the wall. A chime had been heard, and the door, had opened. This lead them inside to their current location.

There was a map of sorts posted onto one of the walls of the building, which Jabal was looking at while reading more details off of the note. "Floor 3, Room 7b… Ah, here it is!" Obviously, he had found where they were supposed to go. The servant went over to a door marked with the sign "Stairwell" and went through, with Malakai following behind him. Their increased speed did them a favor as they glided up the stairwell, at the rate they were headed, an elevator or something of that nature would have been too slow. They reached the third floor, passing through the stairwell doors, and the ghoul motioned his lord to the direction they needed to head towards. This took them to a double door constructed out of some flimsy metal.

He knew it was flimsy, because rather than inputting a password, Jabal simply punched a hole through the doors. Did he really only know the building's password, and not the one for the room they needed to go to? Regardless, the doors, or anything really, were of no match to a man with such mastery over the art of strength. The two of them ducked their heads through the gaping opening, and turned around to look at the device they had been searching for.

The first aspect of the machine that caught his attention was the wide glass cylinder which extended nearly to the ceiling. Inside and past the glass door lay a chair covered in straps and restraints (undoubtedly for some unruly test subjects) fused to a metal bottom. The cylinder connected itself via tubing to another device that to Malakai simply looked like a large box. Masses of wires connected the box to various outlets in the wall. Overall, all he could tell about the device was where he needed to sit.

He looked towards Jabal. "And you know how this device is supposed to operate?"

The servant shrugged and waved the post-it note. "I do now." Sharpening his senses Malakai saw the handwriting written on the note, and while he couldn't read what it actually said for some odd reason (Was it enchanted to hide the message away from all but Jabal's eyes?) he could at least tell that it was his Grandfather's handwriting, even if it was his first time seeing such for any written language other than Enochian. Whatever doubts he may have had regarding Jabal's intentions, which, of course, there were none, they had immediately eased away.

The man in question waved his lord over to the chair. "Now, I need to strap you into this chair before I turn on the device. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to say otherwise, the process is likely going to hurt. We are, after all, reconstructing your soul, and the best healing always has to cut inside just a little to solve the problem."

This gave the mad scientist wannabe a perplexed look. "I may be a wraith at this current moment in time, but could I not still just use my abilities to dull the pain?"

Jabal shook his head, a small grimace appearing on his face. "Unfortunately, in order for this to work, I can't have you making any expenditures of your spiritual energy. It's going to throw the machine off, and put us back at square one. Or, at least, I believe it will. Better to just be safe and not do anything that could possibly halt the process, right?"

There was some hesitation on Malakai's part, but eventually he nodded his head in agreement. "Right." He moved into the cylinder and sat down in the chair, trying to remain visibly calm as Jabal moved to strap him down with the restraints. It was actually fairly difficult, he had rarely been tied down like this before, in his worst moments of insanity, so not only did it provoke an instinctive fear of his, claustrophobia, it also reminded him of some bad memories. Not a winning combination to be feeling at the moment.

Finally, all of the restraints were in place. Jabal moved back to leave the cylinder and close the door, but before he did so, he leaned his head back into the chamber, a sad smile on his face. "You're going to be just fine. Your Grandfather was rarely ever wrong in his predictions, just like you, and since he's sure that everything is going to be alright, I think you should trust in his faith." The servant nodded his head, reminiscing about some memory Malakai knew not. He straightened up, his hand on the handle of the chamber, and said, "Before we begin, your Grandfather instructed me to say a few words to you." Jabal removed his sunglasses so that he could stare right into Malakai's eyes, as he did so, his face slackened for a brief second, before morphing into a mixed expression of sorrow and love. His mouth emitted but a few short phrases in a language Malakai hadn't heard in over seven thousand years.

"I love you, Malakai, my grandson, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a terrible parent, to you and all of your siblings and cousins. And I'm sorry, but this… will be our last goodbye."

The grandchild could not help but widen his eyes, he knew exactly what a possession looked like. "Grandfather?" he replied back in that same tongue. The man currently moving Jabal's body nodded his head, a greater smile than before on his visage, as he looked away, and closed the door. Grandfather… Perhaps he should be asking why Grandfather could not just immediately transport him once his soul had been restored instead of having to wait until he was back in the Material World, since he could obviously still possess his servant without issue, but Malakai didn't truly care about that. He got to see Grandfather, albeit in someone else's body, and maybe that was good enough for him.

Switches were flipped, he could hear them. Buzzing noises started to emerge from the top of the cylinder. Those noises grew and evolved into a cacophony which drilled through his ears. The pain of such eventually moved into his skull, and Malakai's World was Pain.


…And then, it was darkness.

A/N: Apologies for the lack of DxD stuff just yet, this is a send-off to the World of Darkness in effect, as such, we'll be focusing heavily on the DxD side more with chapter 1.

 

[Critian Caceorte]

Spoiler: VtM Stuff

Vampire the Masquerade (VtM):
Vampire: An undead monster that was once human that now subsists on human blood. Alternate names include "Kindred" and "Cainite". Originating in a curse by God dealt to Caine, the famous "First Murderer," it became passed down to people for generations through an act called the "Embrace." For reasons unknown, the curse also provides several benefits to those infected by it, which include:
-Immortality of the "Does Not Age" variety
-Reduced Vulnerability to Trauma (A pistol is an annoyance, and not something to be feared)
-Increased physical prowess for short durations
-Special powers fueled by blood called "Disciplines"
-The ability to utilize blood to heal oneself
-The ability to enslave people through feeding them vampire blood in what is called a "Blood Bond"
-The capability to drink a human's (or animal's, depending on age) blood through the canine teeth, and then heal the wound instantly through saliva
Being a curse, there are, of course, some quite drastic downsides to being infected by it:
-Extreme Vulnerability to Sunlight and Fire (which can only be mitigated through avoidance and specific Disciplines) and extremely potent Faith (which cannot be mitigated)
-A Dietary Requirement of blood. Small portions are consumed each night just to survive, but reserves can quickly run dry given sufficient usage of Disciplines and other powers.
-A Pale countenance and low body temperature that gets worse with age and eroding humanity. This can be temporarily resolved through an application of blood, but such only lasts for about 15 minutes and can quickly put a strain on reserves.
-The inability to eat or drink normal foods, such are immediately vomited out as soon as possible.
-An inability to heal naturally, like a living thing would
-Withdrawal symptoms in the form of an awakened reptilian brain-like urge called "the Beast", which can either force the body to act in sheer rage (especially in cases of being hungry, or in matters of physical provocation) or sheer terror (mostly in situations involving fire or sunlight)
-An increasing drop-off in learning development and retention
-The eventual loss of creative abilities
-An increasingly rarifying taste in blood that eventually prevents any nourishment being drawn from animals and even humans, thus necessitating cannibalism.
-A decrease in potential power with each "generation" of vampire "embraced."
-The ability to be enslaved through drinking vampire blood.
-Full Body Paralysis when staked through the heart
-A deep sleep known as the Torpor, which can be inflicted involuntarily either by the above method or through lack of blood whilst one sleeps
-A specific curse, related to one's "clan," that was passed down from the Clan's Progenitors and inflicted by Caine himself.
-The ability to have one's soul consumed by another vampire in an act known as "the Amaranth" or "Diablerie"
There are believed to be 1 vampire per 100,000 humans (or 70,000 Vampires total in the Modern Nights), though some areas vary in these numbers due to Vampires preferring large urban areas and thus congregating there.
Embrace: The act of creating another vampire. To do this, a human must be drained of blood to the point of death by the vampire, and then fed a few drops of the vampire's blood. The curse of vampirism inherent in the blood takes over the human's body, killing them and converting them to an undead state. Each embrace of a vampire down a family line leads to a new "Generation" of vampires, which is expressly not a good thing. On the other hand, more fledgling vampires running around means more pawns to use against one's enemies.
Generation: The level of distance one is from Caine himself, and thus the inherent limits to one's potential power and blood capacity. Originally, generations did not provide any difference in potential beyond capacity, but after certain actions taken by Caine's grandchildren, the man in question laid down a curse of weakening onto Vampirism itself as well as specific curses for each grandchild. Thus, each time a vampire is embraced, their generation is considered to be 1 step "higher" than their sire, and their potential is worsened. The only way to overcome this generational gap is through the monstrous action known as "the Amaranth" or "Diablerie". In the Revised/Third edition of Vampire the Masquerade (which is the timeline that will be used for this story) there have been observances of up to 15 generations of vampires thus far, though later editions (20th​ Anniversary, which I will be using for rules, and 5th​ edition) have expanded this number to 16. Note that there are certain colloquialisms associated with both the generations and a vampire's actual age, if a vampire of the 7th​ generation is newly embraced they technically can be called by the name of "Elder", but as always actual power and competency is favored over potential, thus such terms are usually reserved those vampires that are truly of such ages. The list of generations is as follows:
Generation 1: Caine, the First Murderer and Vampire. As the progenitor of the entire Vampire species, Caine holds both the greatest amount of power as well as authority over the rest of Kindred kind. Estimated time of Embrace: circa 200,000 BCE.
Generation 2: The few people that Caine embraced out of a desire for companionship. Of these, only three are "known" and have already been killed by their children out of fear and jealousy. Their deaths are what lead to Caine's curses upon his grandchildren and descendants in the first place. Their names are Enoch (the Wise King), Zillah (the Seer Wife) and Ired (the Strong General). Estimated time of Embrace: circa 10,000 BCE.
Generation 3, the Antediluvians: The 13 Grandchildren of Caine who killed their parents during the event known to the world as "the Great Flood," and were cursed by Caine for doing so. Each was the founder of their own clan of vampires, and thus passed down their Discipline specialties as well as their curses to their children, and grandchildren, etc. Their potential is nearly limitless, compared to their descendants, and their great age has granted them vast power and knowledge, as well as an insatiable thirst for other vampires' blood. Effectively, they are (un)living gods, and feared as such by their children. Estimated time of Embrace: circa 8000 BCE. Maximum Discipline Level: 10
Generation 4 and 5, the Methuselahs: The direct children and grandchildren of the Antediluvians, and thus possessing most of the power that their parents and grandparents wield. They derive their names from the famously long lived biblical figure Methuselah, who lived to nearly a thousand years of age. Thus, for any non-Gen 4 or 5 vampire to earn the title, they must surpass the same amount of time living on the Earth, and any who do not are treated with little, if any, respect usually. Due to their long age they are usually unable to derive nourishment from the blood of humans anymore, and thus must depend on Vampire blood, or the blood of other Supernaturals such as the Werewolves. This is also why they rarely get up out of torpor anymore, preferring to influence their children in less direct ways. Famous members include Gilgamesh, Odin, Menelaus of Sparta, Odysseus and Enkidu. Average time of Embrace: 5000 BCE to 0 CE. Maximum Discipline Level: 9/8
Generations 6, 7 and 8, the Elders: The great grandchildren of the Antediluvians and so on, they are the most active political force in the Modern Nights. Typically whenever there is a local Vampire leader of a city or area, that leader is a member of this generational block. They possess a decent amount of power thanks to their age, but due to their relatively high generations they are rarely any match for a Methuselah without plenty of prior planning. Average time of Embrace: 1000 BCE to 1500 CE. Maximum Discipline Level: 7/6/5
Generations 9 and 10, the Ancillae: The experienced, if not particularly powerful generational block of vampires. At this age and generation, they have a good grasp of how things are run and can often hold minor positions of authority within Kindred society. At this point the power capability has mostly stabilized even though minor decreases are still present in each generation. Average time of Embrace: 1000 CE to 1900 CE. Maximum Discipline Level: 5
Generations 11,12 and 13, the Neonates: The most common generational block, and usually the youngest present, these vampires are quite weak compared to their elders but still possess some small measure of power they can use to overtake humans. There exists essentially almost no difference in power between these three generations. Average time of Embrace: 1800 CE to 2004 CE. Maximum Discipline Level: 5
Generations 14 and 15, the Thin-Bloods: No title is regarded with more disgust, and yet fear, than that of the Thin-Bloods. Prophesized as an omen of Gehenna, their existence is considered a blight upon Kindred society. A fairly sizable number of lower generation vampires simply kill these aberrations off. This is the exact opposite of what should be done regarding them, but the elders won't know this until Gehenna has finished. Among the oddities of their condition are an extremely high tendency to be Caitiff (a term meaning that one was born without clan, without flaw but also without ease of learning), blood pools that can only be used for certain tasks, reduced damage from the sun and the occasional ability to sire or birth a true child… which always has odd effects for the child in question. Average time of Embrace: 1990 CE to 2004 CE. Maximum Discipline Level: 4/3
Clan: 13 "family" lines of Vampires which descend from 13 different progenitors known as "the Antediluvians", a word which means "Before the Flood." Each Clan has a clan weakness that is unique to their members, but in turn are also able to learn certain Disciplines easier than usual. While there are always 13 clans at any one moment in time, the specific ones have changed throughout time, and the remnants of past clans usually become known as Bloodlines.
Bloodline: A line of vampires which have diverged from the norm of a clan (Current or Former). Most of them have some substantial difference between themselves and their Clan of origin, such as different and strange "Clan" Disciplines, a special weakness, or even stranger things. There are a few Bloodlines, in fact, that claim to be the remnants of extinct clans, though such claims must be verified before they can be confirmed by the society at large.
Caitiff: A type of Vampire that does not express any traits related to a clan, such as Disciplines or a weakness. They tend to become outcasts, unable to fit in with the Clan-based society at large. On the bright side, Caitiffs can generally learn any "common" Discipline without having to drink another vampires blood, even if it takes slightly more effort than usual. Caitiffs don't have to be Thin-Bloods (there are some of the 8th​ generation even) but nearly all Thin-Bloods are Caitiffs.
Sects: Most vampires in the Modern Nights no longer judge their political opinions solely on what their clan believes, but also on what sects they sympathize with most. There are three main political sects, though there are of course dozens of smaller ones:
-The Camarilla, the largest organization of Kindred in the world, which focuses on organizing the various vampires around the world and ensuring that the veil of secrecy that separates the world in the day from the world at night, the Masquerade, is maintained. The sect was founded by members of Clan Brujah, Gangrel, Malkavian, Nosferatu, Toreador, Tremere and Ventrue and nominally is the governing body over Kindred from those clans. By the time of the Final Nights, however, the Gangrel were on the verge of pulling out, and it was only the fact that Gehenna had arrived which prevented them from doing so.
-If the Camarilla are all about order, then the Sabbat are devoted to chaos. Firm believers in the fact that they are the top dog of the world, not humans, the Sabbat seek to reject human civilities and beliefs and go their own way into the night. Some see them as barbarians, and perhaps, from an outsider's perspective, they are, but it's not like the Sabbat really care what everyone else thinks about them. They overthrew their Elders in the past, so who else could possibly stand up to them? While they have members from possibly every clan in the world, they are largely held up by the efforts of the Lasombras and the Tzimisce.
-The middle ground between the two, and yet the force most looking for "change" of some sort, are the Anarchs. Though technically a group operating within the Camarilla, the Anarchs are out to alter the current state of affairs… though in what specific way, no one can really say. All they know is that they wish for a more egalitarian form of society, rather than the top down hierarchy of both the Camarilla and the Sabbat. A fair portion of the Anarchs are Brujahs, though there's even a Ventrue or two that make up part of the ranks.
There are also some clans that remain independent of these three sects, such as the Banu Haqim, the Followers of Set, the Giovanni and the Ravnos, along with a fair number of Tzimisce.
Blood Bond: Vampire blood is an extremely addictive substance, supernaturally so, and multiple doses of it is enough to bind someone to a vampire for nearly eternity, whether they themselves are a vampire or no. The dosages must take place on separate nights to have the greatest effect. One dose is enough to make the vampire likeable and attractive in the drinker's eyes, two doses engenders feelings of love and affection, and three doses creates a total slave for the vampire to control.
Ghoul: It may be addictive, but partaking of vampire blood while still a living mortal does have its benefits. The partaking of such vitae turns the drinker into what is known as a "ghoul." These still living humans gain as part of their benefits:
-Resilience of form, which translates to a better ability to withstand injury from such things as gunshots and stab wounds.
-The ability to heal wounds both like a human (over time) and a vampire (through the expenditure of blood)
-The ability to learn and utilize Disciplines at a much slower rate
-Age-based immortality as long as they continue to intake a regular dosage of vampire blood.
Of course, becoming a Ghoul risks developing a Blood Bond, thus street-savvy ghouls make it a point to only get singular doses from different vampires, in order to stymie this issue. There is also a special type of Ghoul called a "Revenant" who don't require drinking blood from vampires. Ghouls start off with a very shallow pool for blood that they absorb, though not only can they overdose (with all the implications of that word), their pool increases as the centuries go by.
Revenant: A rare type of ghoul only produced through esoteric methods, such as two Thin-Blood vampires having a child together (of those who can, of course), breeding programs involving generations of normal ghouls, a pair of Revenants having a child together (which has lead to entire families of Revenants roaming about), rare and esoteric blood magic rituals, and, it is rumored, the legendary feat of resurrection that can only be pulled off by the most powerful of the Salubri, a now largely extinct Bloodline. The two biggest differences between Revenants and the standard Ghoul are that Revenants are usually born this way, rather made, and that Revenants can produce their own vitae slowly over time to use for their powers. This means that while they can still absorb vitae from vampire blood, they are not dependent on doing so. On the other hand, Revenants, unlike Ghouls, do not possess the immortality of their more common cousins, merely great longevity, so it is rare to see a revenant live past more than one century.
Disciplines: A type of power fueled by blood that is natural to the vampiric condition. While there are a multitude of different Disciplines out there, Clans (and bloodlines) of vampires always have three in specific that they find easier to learn, which are natural to them. Attempting to learn a Discipline outside of these three is not only more difficult, it requires drinking the blood of a vampire that knows that Discipline, a scary proposition for most Kindred. Thankfully, it only takes the one dose to learn the beginnings of the Discipline, everything else is up to the vampire to practice and develop. There are 8 "common" Disciplines of which all clans have at least two of in their "Clan" Disciplines, and Kindred mythology points to those 8 being the first Disciplines that Caine himself learned when he studied the mystic arts under Lilith (though strangely "Protean", a Discipline restricted to the Gangrel clan and those who drink their blood, is also sometimes counted among these 8.) Along with the 8 common disciplines are numerous clan-specific Disciplines that have strange effects, even to Kindred sensibilities. Of the 13 current Clans, here are the Disciplines that some of them possess:
-Animalism (Common), the art of commanding the Beast Without (Animals and the like) and the Beast Within (The baser instincts of Vampires, mortals and other supernaturals). Powers range from communicating with animals, removing the Beast from Vampires and others, to even causing the Beast to physically attacking the vessels it dwells in. Possessed by: the Gangrel, the Nosferatu, the Ravnos, and the Tzimisce
-Auspex (Common), the art of superior senses and clairvoyance. Powers range from sharpening one's senses, seeing auras and astrally projecting one's consciousness to distant locales. Possessed by: the Malkavians, the Toreadors, the Tremere, the Tzimisce and certain Bloodlines of the Banu Haqim.
-Celerity (Common), the art of speed. Powers range from generally increasing velocity, accelerating projectiles and vibrating one's atoms at such speeds as to travel through terrain. Possessed by: the Banu Haqim, the Brujah and the Toreador.
-Chimerstry (Clan-Specific), the art of illusions. While other Disciplines may play on occasion with such, it is the Ravnos who have truly mastered this skill. Powers range from simple static illusions, swords crafted from dreamstuff which deal crippling damage and the ability to transform illusions into physical reality. Possessed only by the Ravnos.
-Dominate (Common), the art of hypnotism and commanding others. Such powers usually require eye contact with the target in order to function (though certain powers can alleviate that requirement). Powers range from implanting commands, possessing targets, hypnotizing large crowds and eventually entire generations. Possessed by: the Giovanni, the Lasombra, some of the Malkavians (it's complicated), the Tremere and the Ventrue.
-Dementation (Clan-Specific), the art of insanity. The Malkavian's specialty, it revolves around deducing, exposing and creating mental illnesses in others through "spreading" some of the Malkavian's own. Oddly enough, only some Malkavian's possess the Discipline, while others possess varying levels of Dominate. It's often chalked up to a prank from their Antediluvian, and no outsider bothers to question things further. Possessed by: Well, I already said who they were, didn't I?
-Fortitude (Common), the art of durability. While the other common Disciplines might help in acquiring and feeding from one's prey, it is this art which Kindred rely on when things take a turn for the worse. Powers include an increased ability to withstand damage (even from the sun or fire), breaking weapons on one's own skin and negating the pain felt from wounds. Possessed by: the Gangrel, the Ravnos and the Ventrue.
-Necromancy (Clan-Specific), the art of raising the dead. Necromancy has been a tradition among mortals for millennia, but it was only with the Giovanni that it's full potential could be unleashed. Unlike most Disciplines, Necromancy is subdivided into various "Paths" which include spells the Giovanni can cast. Paths include the Sepulcher Path, devoted to summoning and controlling ghosts, the Bone Path which raises the physical dead, and the Path of the Grave's Decay, which focuses on deteriorating one's foes, among many others. Possessed only by the Giovanni, though they can be willing to share in their expertise… for a price.
-Obfuscate (Common), the art of stealth. Powers range from conditional invisiblity, to hiding one's aura, to even inventing new identities for one to wear. Possessed by: the Banu Haqim, the Followers of Set, the Malkavians, and the Nosferatu.
-Obtenebration (Clan-Specific), the art of shadows. There is a reason that few Kindred outside of the main clan Lasombra possess this art, and that's because they take a very dim view on anyone else using it. Powers range from shadowy tentacles, teleportation through shadows and imprisoning foes within the darkness. Possessed only by the Lasombra, and don't you forget it.
-Potence (Common), the art of strength. While largely the simplest of the arts, there are still a few tricks that a master of Potence can pull. Powers range from increased strength, long-distance jumps and smashing blows which cripples foes. Possessed by: the Brujah, the Giovanni, the Lasombra and the Nosferatu.
-Presence (Common), the art of charisma. Whereas Dominate is direct and to the point, this art is far better able to convince larger groups of mortals and kindred in subtler fashions. Powers include auras of religious awe, inducing love in individuals and causing entire cities to erupt into chaos. Possessed by: the Brujah, the Followers of Set, the Toreadors and the Ventrue.
-Protean (Clan-Specific), the art of shapeshifting. Caine may have possibly possessed this art himself, but only the Gangrel were deemed worthy enough of inheriting it (so some say). Powers include growing dangerously cutting claws, changing into animals and fusing with the earth itself. Possessed only by the Gangrel.
-Quietus (Clan-Specific), the art of assassination and vitae manipulation. This Discipline is one of the more diverse ones among the somewhat "normal" arts, and that wide range of utility is exploited for every drop by the Banu Haqim. Powers include fields of silence, terrible poisons that scourge the body and soul, and tampering with the taste of a mortal's blood. Possessed only by the Banu Haqim, and in multiple varieties.
-Serpentis (Clan-Specific), the art of Set. No, that is no hyperbole; this is the Discipline that Set's Followers use to strive closer to become like him. This can take many forms, such as growing razor-sharp tongues, changing into a snake or taking on Set's own image for a power boost. Possessed only by the Followers of Set, though once you've converted to the faith, they'll gladly teach you the basics.
-Thaumaturgy (Clan-Specific), the art of MAGIC. While the Tremere, upon becoming vampires, lost access to the greatest of their sorcerous powers, they were still able to retain a fraction of it as blood magic, which they dubbed "Thaumaturgy." Like Necromancy, this art is divided into numerous paths of varying abilities. Some paths include the Path of Blood, which manipulates its namesake, the Lure of Flames which conjures up one of vampirism's greatest weaknesses, the Path of Elemental Mastery which communicates and commands objects, the Path of Mars which enhances one's battle prowess… There are far too many paths capable of far too many different feats to count. Possessed only by the Tremere, and they like to keep it that way.
-Vicissitude (Clan-Specific), the art of fleshcrafting. One of the biggest reasons for the Tzimisce's onerous public opinion is due to their command of this art. With it, they can perform surgery with a fingernail, change form into a hideous werebat state called "the Zulo form" and alter their own blood to become highly acidic and/or flammable. Possessed only by the Tzimisce, and perhaps its better that way.
More Disciplines than just these exist, of course, but they can only be found in rare Bloodlines. Thus, possessing the abilities of one of these tends to draw people's attention towards the user.
Diablerie: An act that even most Kindred consider abominable. Simply put, the Kindred drinks another vampire dry of their blood, before sucking out their soul and consuming it once the blood is all dried up. This terrible action leaves literal marks on its performer, which can be detected by looking at the vampire's aura. This of course isn't even mentioning the psychological effects that such an abomination can lead to (Split Personality Disorder, an addiction to killing, etc.) So why would any vampire even think of doing this? For a number of reasons. Sucking out a rival's soul is any easy way to make sure that rival stays dead, it lets the vampire absorb a bit of the knowledge and ability regarding Disciplines that the rival possesses… and if the rival is of a lower generation than the Kindred, the Kindred's Generation is reduced. In a world where once you are assigned a generation (which determines potential power and blood expenditure) by the sire who embraced you, that is normally final; such a temptation is just that: Tempting.
Jyhad: Not the religious wars that this word typically brings to mind, but rather a war of subterfuge, politics and bloodshed. Jyhad is the game that all Kindred play, willingly or not, and its effects have been the "natural death" of most vampires. For a race that no longer needs to truly worry about anything besides sustenance and a place to sleep, the only way they can die is through the power struggles they become entangled with. It's highly suspected that the Antediluvians and Methuselah's of the various clans are subconsciously directing their spawn to achieve some unknowable goals, which is partially why these conflicts have been continuing for millennia.
Gehenna: The End Times. The Apocalypse, as the werewolves would call it. It is the span of time in which vampirekind is expected to go extinct, and possibly the rest of humanity as well. In the third edition of Vampire the Masquerade (which this story uses for its timeline), Gehenna officially occurred in 2004/2005, to close out that era of the World of Darkness. Later editions which returned to the setting bumped the time up to some unforeseeable date (20th​ anniversary edition) or redefined it as a cyclical event (5th​ edition). Regardless, here it has happened, and the consequences it has had on the World of Darkness are dire.
Golconda: Long ago, after Caine had been fully afflicted with vampirism as it appears today, an angel of the One came down to offer Caine a chance at repentance: Should he ever repent of his sins fully, he would have the curses placed down upon him removed. Such a glorious state was called "Golconda", and it remained a minor detail in the mythology of the vampires until an ancient vampire by the name of "Saulot" achieved it. From then on, he taught of his ways to his children, who then spread it around to those they supposed worthy of the trial, for it was no gift. No, it was a test of one's moral fiber, and if one was left wanting during it, there could be no repeats. Those few who succeeded in this mental test of morality gained a number of benefits, such as no longer having to suffer the ravages of the Beast, a greatly reduced need for blood, and the ability to learn and utilize Disciplines at levels not normally allowed for one's Generation. There are rumors, in the Modern Nights, of a group of vampires called the "Iconnu", who have dedicated themselves to remain free of Kindred politics and to spread information about this legendary state around.
The First and Second Cities: After wandering the wastelands for many millennia, Caine decided to finally settle down in a human city for some companionship. He chose a city lead by a King named Enoch, who quickly abdicated his throne to this godlike being, and in return was Embraced to become like he was. For this, Caine renamed the city "the City of Enoch", or, the First City. This City is where Caine, the Second Generation and eventually the Third Generation resided, and for the vampires, it was a paradise… for the humans, however, it was much less so. Eventually, God sent down a Flood across the Earth, which wiped away the First City and left it to waste away in the Underworld. The Third Generation, rising from the flotsam, decided to recreate the First City, which they called the Second City (some believe this city to have been the City of Babel. Others snidely suggest it was more along the lines of Sodom and Gomorrah). This city fell apart socially rather than physically, and the 13 Antediluvians went their separate ways.

Finally, here are some other terms that will very occasionally (but not commonly) be used throughout the story from the World of Darkness:
Werewolf: Also known to the Kindred as "the Lupines", they are shapeshifting, walking WMD's fully ready to rip vampires' faces off. They really, really hate vampires, and they possess powers related to the Spirit World. Beyond the Prologue, they do not make an appearance in this story.
The Spirit World: Also known as the Umbra, it is the place where spirits live, and there are different sections of it that are divided from each other. The High Umbra is a place dedicated to the spirits that represent universal ideals, the Middle Umbra represents the spirits of nature, and the Low Umbra (also known as the Underworld) represents the spirits of the dead aka ghosts. There is far more to it than just that, but such is beyond the focus of this story.
The Triat: The embodiements of the metaphysical concepts of Creation, Preservation and Destruction, known as the Wyld, the Weaver and the Wyrm respectively. Due to circumstances, they have been corrupted from their original goals, becoming the embodiments of Chaos (Wyld), Stasis (Weaver) and Corruption (Wyrm) instead. In this scenario of the End Times, the Weaver tries to take control over all of reality, and it is only through the Lupines and other werebeasts enacting an enormous ritual to purify the Wyrm and save reality that it is thwarted. As a side effect, all creatures tied to both Stasis and Corruption, such as Vampires and Ghosts, are erased in the aftermath. Luckily for the main cast, Caine had the foresight to see this coming, and had their souls transported to another world to avoid them suffering this fate. Not so luckily for Caine, he could not escape the Earth due to his curse, and is thus presumed to have been killed.
The Consensus: In the World of Darkness, reality, beyond the absolute basics, is run by what humanity believes it should be run. Due to the efforts of a certain organization, and increasing levels of urbanization, humanity has moved on from a "Magic and Faith" based paradigm to a "Science and Reason" based one. As such, any attempts to alter reality through the former method are met with resistance in the form of a negative force called "Paradox."
Mage: Humans who are able to push their own personal ability to alter reality to such a degree as to utilize it in the form of magic. They come in 4 varieties, 3 of which are tied to the Triat and one of which is the balance between the three:
-The Marauders: Representing Chaos/Wyld/Dynamism, they are utterly insane and living life within their own Reality Marbles as they push their paradigm on reality that it breaks instead. Most of humanity that they even interact with are dead or altered, because madness.
-The Technocracy: Representing Stasis/Weaver, they are the reason that humanity has moved on to Science instead of Magic. Most of Humanity likes them because they got toilet paper out of the deal.
-The Nephandi: Representing Corruption/Wyrm/Primordial, these are Mages who despise Reality, and they seek to either erase it completely or to bring humanity down to their level. Most of humanity, if they ever found out what they are actually like, would hate and kill them on sight.
-The Traditions: Representing Balance/Question, these are the typical mages one thinks of in regards to Magick. Some of humanity likes them because they are cool, others are jealous because they want powers to, and the rest don't believe that magick exists and so can't believe it when a mage performs a spell in front of them.
Mages are an important part of both Caine's backstory as well as the history of Clan Tremere. Besides that, however, they aren't too important for the story as a whole.
The One: aka God, Jehovah, what have you. He is the one who in the World of Darkness supplied the power for the creation of the universe (he didn't actually create it, his angels did.) He is also the one who cursed Caine with vampirism for the murder of his brother Abel. After the Flood that God laid upon the Earth, he vanished to places even the Angels know not where. It is currently unknown if the God of the World of Darkness and the God in DxD are the same person, or different people.

Spoiler: DxD Stuff

High School DxD (DxD):
God of the Bible: The name used to refer to the version of God that existed in DxD. He promoted the Abrahamic religions, created and lead the Angels, invented special devices of the soul called "Sacred Gears", and made an enemy of most of the other pantheons as well as the Devils. In an early volume in the series, God was revealed to have been dead for quite some time, though the specifics of it aren't brought up until far, far later into the series lifetime.
Sacred Gear: Special magical devices that implanted into young humans' souls at birth, determined randomly by a system that God created. These devices grant their user special magical abilities, and can evolve with time. In addition, due to the mounting failures of God's system, Sacred Gear users have discovered special abilities called "Balance Breakers", which are achieved by essentially jailbreaking the system, thus allowing the Sacred Gear the ability to do things it should not be able to do. Of these devices, the most powerful are known as the God-Killers, the "Longinus", and there believed to be around 13 of them. For this story, none of the Sacred Gears will be given to any of the reborn Antediluvians, it would not be fair otherwise.
The Three Races: Within the sphere of the Abrahamic Religions, there are three main supernatural races in conflict with each other:
-The Angels, Paragons of Virtue, who seek to cover up God's death in order to not lose worshippers while at the same time promoting true virtuousness, a conflict that has some of them on edge. The Angels rarely ever fight themselves to their diminished (and unreplenishing) numbers. Instead, they take the best and most faithful of their followers and train them as "Exorcists", the Sword of the Church. They can be distinguished from the other two races by their pure white (or gold) wings.
-The Fallen Angels, the Tarnished Angels of Sin, who find themselves outnumbered on both sides. Unable to produce the true Holy power of the Angels, and not capable of really resisting the fell powers of the Devils, they have been forced to organize as much as possible and turn to recruitment and study of other supernaturals to make up for their small numbers. They possess black, crow like wings.
-The Devils, Descendants of the original 72 Demons of the Ars Goetia, they are Nobles and Monsters in like measure. Because of the fact that their whole lives have been filled with sin, they seek to promote such in mortals, especially due to the fact that they possess a new method of creating new Devils: the Evil Pieces. These devices, created by the Devil Leader Ajuka Beelzebub, allow a Devil noble to transform another living being into a devil that will serve as his servant. They normally possess only one pair of bat like wings, compared to the multiplicity of their counterparts, though some Devils possess more than one pair.

 

[Critian Caceorte]

Post reserved for character page.

 

[Tera Forma]

Special magical devices

Click to shrink...

Sacred Gears are not magical artifacts. They are part of the system of miracles of the Biblical god.
Divine miracles and magic are different concepts. As are different concepts and many other supernatural phenomena.
Devils are not descendants of seventy-two pillars. Devils are literally a race of creatures created as a military force by the first Lucifer. Seventy-two pillars, these are the strongest representatives of all the devils created. There are many other details, but these are general indicators.

 

[kinigget]

...this can only end well

 

[Critian Caceorte]

Sacred Gears are not magical artifacts. They are part of the system of miracles of the Biblical god.
Divine miracles and magic are different concepts. As are different concepts and many other supernatural phenomena.
Devils are not descendants of seventy-two pillars. Devils are literally a race of creatures created as a military force by the first Lucifer. Seventy-two pillars, these are the strongest representatives of all the devils created. There are many other details, but these are general indicators.

Click to shrink...

Ah, thank you for providing some clarification. I've been rereading DxD in order to prepare for this story, though it seems that in my haste to publish I have gotten a few details wrong, I'll double check everything on the Wiki before revising the Terms list for DxD.

 

[Akuma-Heika]

"It seems that this is the end of the world as humanity knows it."

A lone voice spoke out loud in the void that what had been known as the Shadowlands had become. A translucent figure, eyes unseeing but instead visioning as the whole of what was occurring in the world of living flashed before his sight. The trickster dead, laid low by reflections and nukes. The dragon, constrained yet further by the spider as she tightened her grip on him and his children. He gripped the top of the brick wall to his right tightly as image after image scrolled past the inside of his eyelids. The usurper traveling to the Beehive, as his far more awarded relatives kill and consume what the chaff of humanity. The light of the One, making his second debut amongst humanity to rally it's champions. The changers of reality, bound in war with the corRuptEd tOolMaKerS-
The spirit clawed at his ephemeral cheek to regain his focus, his eyes briefly opening to reveal the clouded surface of a blind man. "There's no time for falling back into the Madness… I must see what will happen, not what has already occured. I must!" The stare closed, as more scenes flowed by. Dracul taking control of humanity's form, Earthshaker failing to merge with her prey, the Shape- Sister, screaming in frustration as her plans for ascendancy crumble- A gasp issues from his mouth, the past and present finally transitioning to the future in his gaze. Dragon shakes off Spider, and humanity lives. "And Kindred die. I see."
Malakai, lost soul of the entity now known as Malkav, crumbled to the ground and onto the wall as exhaustion and the weight of the future fell upon his shoulders. A prophet, one who lost his sanity in life and unlife, yet only regained it once death had passed by. Even now, as the Seventh Great Maelstrom sought to destroy what was left of the Shadowlands, he merely sat there, and observed, as civilization crumbled under the force of gods and godlike beings. He sighed in his hopelessness, the scarred optimism dying off in his voice as he spoke, "At least humanity will still have a future… That's a far better result than most would have expected. It only took a reset to a time before the stone age, so I guess that's a decent price to pay for survival." His face contrasted the words he was speaking, a grimace formed on his visage, a once handsome face to contrast his sister's divine beauty now marred by self-inflicted scars and pulled out hair. And to think, such defects had been acquired in his time as a ghost alone, never mind the damage he had done to himself while he still possessed a body and its insanity. But, the time when good looks would have benefitted him had long past, and now he lay, a single soul in an empty city of shadows, relegated to the backwaters of history as the living world as he knew it died a sudden, but painful, death.
He started to chuckle as a darkly humorous thought crept into his mind. "It's funny… Arikel, I and everyone else thought it would be the One returning that would kill us and render the vampire extinct… but nope! It was all our own actions and nature itself that proved our undoing. Why else would things turn out this way? Sister, much as I loved her, was a stuck-up bitch who slept with more people than she had IQ points, Saulot only achieved inner peace after making a mess for everyone else to deal with, and yet every one of our cousins were worse!" He paused, then corrected his statement. "Well, Haqim was alright, so I guess he didn't deserve what he received. But one man out of 13 does not redeem the rest! It was hardly any wonder our Grandfather decided to lay his curses down upon us just as the One lay its upon him! He merely accelerated the process of our eventual self-destruction…" He trailed off, eyes opening once again to take in the realm around him… and to reminisce.
He was in the echo of some fallen city… which that was, he had no idea. It didn't matter anyway. Wherever he looked, despite the difference in architecture, all he could see in his mind was the long fallen City of Enoch. Oh, he wasn't enough of a fool to idealize the city itself, he was more than aware of the barbaric practices which occurred within its walls… yet, he still had some good memories of his time spent there with his sister and the others. Debating philosophy with Saulot, Set and Irad as the moon shone overhead; going hunting (for animals, not men) with Ennoia and Churka, gazing into the waters of prophecy with Zillah and the Eldest, watching in wonder as Arikel shaped the stone underneath her fingertips into monuments of sublimity… and growing crops with his grandfather. That was a joy from his past which he sorely missed, hearing Caine instruct him in how best to arrange the grape vines to produce the greatest tasting wine (how he knew which tasted best, while he was in his undead state, Malakai still didn't know and chalked up to his heightened senses), which places to plant the flowers so that they would receive the most of that sunlight which the Kindred were denied. Those few moments of happiness, rare as they were and rarer still as time went off, helped to color his life beyond the discordant state of his mind. It was sad, then, that their time in the First City (a mere three thousand years, at that) had been founded on unsteady ground, ready to collapse at the slightest provoca… tion…
Malakai blinked as a new sound, something that shouldn't be possible considering how all of the other ghosts in this place had been consumed by the Tempest even as more poured in, filtered into his ear. Granted, due to how powerful his hearing was, that sound came from dozens of miles away, and covered up by the roar of the tempest, but it was still noticeable… and coming closer. He closed his eyes as he willed his clairvoyance to orient itself towards the incoming object. What he saw was… unexpected, to say the least.
Coming down the translucent road which once connected this city of nonexistence to others, was a wheeled wagon which sputtered as puffs of smoke came out of the tail end. A car, he corrected himself, having seen such machines before in prior prophesying periods. It was painted and stylized entirely in black, but that wasn't what made it stand out (aside from its currently shifting position, of course). No, that would be the vibrancy of its appearance and form. "Normal" objects within the Shadowlands had a dull or translucent appearance, owing to their origin as mere memories of objects coming from the Skinlands or "Real World". That this particular vehicle was painted a bright green and looked as solid as any object on the other side of the veil was… strange, to say the least. As it crept along the street, his sight focused on the individual driving the car. As the image became clearer, his face morphed from an expression of surprise to one of utter shock.
"It can't be…" he muttered, "He's still alive? How? It's been millennia since…" he trailed off on his sentence even as he rose to his feet to try and move closer to the slowly encroaching object.
It took him longer than he would have liked to run towards the car, even in life he had never been as great of a master of the art of speed, as any of his siblings or cousins… or nieces or nephews and so on. Long story short, for one of his (former) kind, he was slow. His pace picked up to a sprint as he raced by building after dull grey building across the broken cobblestone streets. Eventually, after quite some time he finally was able to spot the vehicle with his natural senses, and in turn, it's occupant.
The man was, physically, of Arabic descent, with a pale hue to his bronze skin tone, and long coal black hair held together in a ponytail by tied twine. Atop his nose were a large pair of circular sunglasses, and on the bottom of his ears were a pair of gold earrings, the last remnants of his previous occupation he still kept. He wore for this occasion a red polo shirt and tan slacks, and Malakai had to admit it was odd seeing the man's upper body covered. After all, the last memory he possessed of him was the man only clothed by a simple white skirt (Weren't they called kilts in this day and age? Maybe his memory was failing him) girded up by, what else, a girdle, and wearing a golden medallion that signified his office and importance over all his subordinates.
Malakai tried to speak, to communicate his surprise at this sudden appearance, but no words came out. The man turned the key in his car, shutting it off, before stepping out the left side and falling without a hitch onto the dusty pavement. Looking up at the spirit, his face shifted to give a small smile as he opened his arms widely. Confused by the action, the Antediluvian could only stand still as the shorter man moved forward and hugged him.
"It is nice to see you in decent health, lord Malakai," remarked Jabal, the Ghoul of Caine.
The man in question could only look down, still in disbelief before finally able to put in the effort to respond. "Jabal… How… You're dead!"
The Ghoul blinked before pulling away from his embrace and looking the spirit in the eye… before chuckling. "Oh, no, sorry to worry you, my lord. Despite my appearance here in the Underworld, I in fact have yet to die, but I can see quite easily how you could make the connection."
Malakai shook his head. "No, I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about the Flood. How have you survived for so long, and through that disaster? When the 13 of us gathered once more after the waters receded, none of us were able to find you! We thought that you either drowned in the sanctified waters, or had been devoured by one of us for nourishment while we had been caught up in the rage of the Beast!"
Jabal blinked, before slowly shaking his head. "No, none of that occurred. When Lord Caine informed me as to what was occurring, as the rain fell down upon our heads, he created a chamber in the earth for me to rest in, alongside a stockade of his blood. He directed me that once the floodwaters had evaporated, I should still remain inside that chamber and only use my gifts to view things from a distance. I believe my Lord used his great power to hide away the evidence of the chamber's existence, so that it could never be found. By the time that you or any of Enoch's brood were of strong enough power to detect me, you had obviously put the idea of my survival out of your minds, and thus did not bother to look further. I had only left my hideaway after seeing Churka's demise in the Indus Valley, I couldn't bear to see any more of your siblings and cousins die by that point."
He snorted, as his voice took on a melancholic tone. "Of course, by then, it had been much too late. Only 5 years later, and all of you began to awaken and kill each other and your broods. It was only a couple of days ago that I finally received a new command from my Lord: to find you, and transport you to a new location. The first step of that mission was accomplished in just this moment."
Malakai furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around at his surroundings. "Jabal, we're in the Underworld, and I'm but a wraith. There IS no new location that I can go to, outside of Oblivion to be destroyed. Unless…" he trailed off as his eyes widened. His gaze fell back down upon the servant's head. "Are you taking me to see my Grandfather?" It was the only logical thing he could think of. Jabal, after all, was Caine's personal servant, and the only semi-mortal man outside of the Mages to have as much power as one of the other Flood Survivors.
Thus, it was to his surprise that Jabal actually shook his head in the negative. "Actually, no. Lord Caine is currently enjoying his last moments with a scholar of Ennoia's brood, back in the world of the living. Due to the specificity of God's curse upon him, he cannot escape into any other realm to avoid the planet's inevitable destruction of all things STATIC. After all, he was cursed to 'Wander the Earth,' and not 'Wander Mars.'" The ghoul gave a sharp laugh at that little joke. It wasn't really funny, to Malaki's senses at least. "No, there is another place where I am to take you, the last of the 3rd​ Generation. A… different place. Not a paradise, for most definitions of the word, but certainly not one where you need worry about the things that plagued you and your compatriots for millennia."
Malakai's former dumbfounded state returned with a vengeance. "Then where the hell is this place supposed to be? Are you suggesting that we go beyond the ninth planet into that realm of space where things man was never supposed to know or encounter thrive?"
The stare that Jabal gave back was a flat one. "My lord, your Grandfather is many things. Inadequate with regards to children or family, perhaps, but he's no fool. Not even you, back when you were still roaming the earth in your madness, were a fool, simply a troubled man. No, Lord Caine wants me to take you to a world, a new one. A new… Earth." The antediluvian was taken aback by this, so the servant rushed to explain. "Lord Caine felt that while he was justified in laying down those curses upon you and your descendants, he hadn't been a good parent to the 13 of you back in the days of the First City, which he believed is what lead to most of your degradations into insanity and megalomania. Present company excluded, of course. So, as recompense, he wanted to see what would happen when you were all granted a second chance at mortality. Obviously, with the world dying around us and the werecreatures battling it out, that's not possible here, but on another Earth, one not connected to this reality, the possibility lies there.
He tried utilizing his power to search for a world without God, whose influence he believed is what led to the rest of you falling into madness, present company not excluded this time. While I don't know the specifics of that endeavor, all I know is that while some were found, placing you and your siblings and cousins on those worlds would have been a disaster for a number of reasons. It wasn't until just before I ran into your Grandfather again that he had found a suitable place to live."
"And what world is that?" Malakai questioned, still in disbelief of all that he was being told. It wasn't every day, after all, that one was told about a new lease on life that wasn't some form of scam.
"I told you he tried looking for worlds without God," Jabal began, "what he found eventually was even better. A world where God was dead."
Silence invaded into that space, as the taller of the two men could not prevent his jaw from dropping. No words were spoken for many minutes, as he contemplated those preposterous words. "That… that's impossible, isn't it?" he finally managed to grit out.
"I thought so as well, at first, but Lord Caine assured me that it was the truth. Out there, in the multitude of universes, there is one where the Lord God once existed, but eventually ceased to be. A factor of damnation for the Angels, certainly, but for men like us? It is El Dorado and Zion mixed into one round whole."
"And Grandfather wants to simply, what, resurrect us? Reincarnate us? While the old world crumbles back into the primitive ages? Whatever did we do, that I did, that deserved such? Why should I have earned such a reward, when all I did was-" Malakai found his words cut off as Jabal's hand pincer-grabbed his cheeks to silence him. The other hand gripped his shoulder hard.
"Never say that," rebuked the servant harshly, his eyes piercing like arrows into Malakai's own. "Never say that you are deserving of nothing. It was no fault of your own that you were cursed with an illness of the mind from the One. Not a single bit of it. You, of all of your siblings and cousins, are the most innocent of your collective crimes. You wouldn't blame a child for doing a wrong they had no perception of, would you? So stop thinking the same for yourself!" The ghoul took a moment to calm down, before he continued on, his hand letting go of Malakai's face as he did so. "Originally, your Grandfather was only going have you, Haqim and perhaps Saulot reincarnated, because he felt that of the 13, you three were the most repentant and innocent. I think the events of the past two months, however, have changed his mind, and now in his compassion he wants to see if all 13… no, if all 16 of you can improve and become better people if given the opportunity."
The antediluvian blinked, as he tried counting up the third generation members that he knew of. "Absimilliard, Arikel, Cappadocius, Churka, Ennoia, the Giovanni head, Haqim, myself, Saulot, Sutekh, the Usurper, the Eldest, Troile, and Ventru… that's 14," he muttered out aloud.
"You're forgetting Ilyes and Laza," Jabal smugly countered. The look on his lord's face as he realized what that statement meant was far too enjoyable to see. Eventually that expression morphed into a deadpan face, one primed for snark.
"…If I ask how was that even possible, you're going to have an explanation ready, aren't you?"
"Correct," the servant confirmed.
"…I'm just going to assume you're right and move on."
The ghoul chuckled at that statement, it seemed his Lord's quota for big surprises today had been exceeded. "Very well then, Lord Malakai. Hop on into the right seat of the car, I'll start it up." The spirit did so as Jabal moved to the front of the car and rotated the lever on the front in one smooth circle, starting the engine back up. As the vehicle sputtered to life, he hopped back into the driver's seat and pulled a lever on the left, a shudder passing through the carriage, before he stomped onto one of the pedals and made the car move.
Malakai inspected the vehicle once the two of them were in motion. "How did you even come to acquire a vehicle such as this? It's not the ghost of a car, I can tell that much, so how did you even get it here?"
Jabal laughed, obviously this was a story of his that he liked to tell. "Shortly after I had left my hideaway, I came across an upstart Euthanatoi who was convinced that I was a 'source of evil in the world that needed to be purged.' Said that straight to my face, even. So, since he decided that the world needed to be rid of me, I figured that he needed to be rid of his Model T. He's not dead, he only suffered a few broken bones, and I believed this ride would help me in my journeys around the Earth. As providence would have it, he had enchanted the damn thing to be able to go into the Underworld, and considering my current mission, I'm certainly not complaining."
He continued laughing as they rode along, though Malakai couldn't help but ask: "What is a Euthanatoi?"
The servant waved him off. "Just a wizard serial killer, no need to worry about it."
That wasn't exactly reassuring.
Malakai felt the change when it happened. Suddenly, what seemed like a dismal reality quickly transitioned into a strange realm of forests and wildlife. Oddly, he felt something that had been tugging on his soul… snap. Whatever it had been, it had lead back into the Underworld, which they had presumably left.
"We've left the Underworld, and are now in what some call the 'Middle Umbra.' At least, I think they do, I have little experience with the Spirit Realms. In any case, there is a mage outpost near here that had been abandoned in the current events. Normally, we'd be barred from entry, but thankfully the facility runs on passwords, and not some form of scanning for reasons I know not. Probably just laziness of some sort, now that I think about it. Regardless, the reason we are headed there is so that I can undo the damage that's been done to your soul thanks to your time spent in the Underworld."
The spirit sharply turned his head towards the ghoul. "How are we supposed to do that? Not even Grandfather or Saulot had the ability to heal a soul as old as myself from the wounds of Entropy."
"Correct," agreed Jabal. "Even the healer's art can only resurrect the recently deceased. However, in the facility there is a device that can reverse the damage done to a soul, thus transforming you into an honorary member of the 'recently deceased.' From there, I simply have to take your spirit to the Material World, and Lord Caine can incarnate and transport you to the other world in a new body."
"So we are going to see my Grandfather, then?" questioned Malakai.
Jabal took one hand off of the steering wheel to shake it in a "so-so" manner. "Yes and no. How the device works is that it places you into a vessel for containment once it is finished healing the damage you sustained, presumably for your safety. You likely won't even see your Grandfather's face when he transports your soul, as we'll end up thousands of miles away from where he is on Earth. The only reason he can even pull off a feat like this from that distance is-"
"Because he's Grandfather, and he can do things like that," interrupted the grandson.
The servant nodded. "Correct. For all his limitations, Lord Caine's power is still astonishing. I still haven't figured out how exactly he created that sundial of his, and it's been millennia since the First City was still around!"
Malakai frowned in thought as they passed through a steel gate which interrupted the endless wild. "I think Haqim eventually figured it out, but I don't remember if that's true or not." He paused in his recollection as a large grey building suddenly appeared before them. "JABAL-"
The ghoul was already pushing on the brakes as the tires of the vehicles screeched to a halt, eventually stopping an inch before the duo would have crashed into stone wall. Pulling on the parking brake, Jabal turned off the car, a happy expression on his face. "I think I'm really getting the handle of this 'driving' thing! Wonderful!" Malakai was gobsmacked at the man's cheerfulness despite them almost having a collision. Not that it would have hurt them, per se, as they were both of supernatural durability, but the car was presumably of less formidable make. He shook his head in disbelief, muttering as he followed the servant around the facility.
"I think his 'gift' for horses is translating to his 'skill' at driving."
In short, he had no talent whatsoever.
To a man who had mainly lived in the days of man where food was more important than money and nakedness the fashion standard of the millennia, a facility such as this was quite astonishing to walk through. Devices and gadgets he could not name (and that was after having experienced much of the past centuries through his clairvoyance!) mixed in with simple tools like hammers and levers, albeit scaled up to size and filled with more parts than he had ephemeral teeth. They had entered through a small door in a covert corner of the facility, wherein Jabal had pulled out a small piece of green paper ("a post-it note," his mind told him, though how he knew that he did not know), read off of it, and pushed several times into a form of tablet fused into the wall. A chime had been heard, and the door, had opened. This lead them inside to their current location.
There was a map of sorts posted onto one of the walls of the building, which Jabal was looking at while reading more details off of the note. "Floor 3, Room 7b… Ah, here it is!" Obviously, he had found where they were supposed to go. The servant went over to a door marked with the sign "Stairwell" and went through, with Malakai following behind him. Their increased speed did them a favor as they glided up the stairwell, at the rate they were headed, an elevator or something of that nature would have been too slow. They reached the third floor, passing through the stairwell doors, and the ghoul motioned his lord to the direction they needed to head towards. This took them to a double door constructed out of some flimsy metal.
He knew it was flimsy, because rather than inputting a password, Jabal simply punched a hole through the doors. Did he really only know the building's password, and not the one for the room they needed to go to? Regardless, the doors, or anything really, were of no match to a man with such mastery over the art of strength. The two of them ducked their heads through the gaping opening, and turned around to look at the device they had been searching for.
The first aspect of the machine that caught his attention was the wide glass cylinder which extended nearly to the ceiling. Inside and past the glass door lay a chair covered in straps and restraints (undoubtedly for some unruly test subjects) fused to a metal bottom. The cylinder connected itself via tubing to another device that to Malakai simply looked like a large box. Masses of wires connected the box to various outlets in the wall. Overall, all he could tell about the device was where he needed to sit.
He looked towards Jabal. "And you know how this device is supposed to operate?"
The servant shrugged and waved the post-it note. "I do now." Sharpening his senses Malakai saw the handwriting written on the note, and while he couldn't read what it actually said for some odd reason (Was it enchanted to hide the message away from all but Jabal's eyes?) he could at least tell that it was his Grandfather's handwriting, even if it was his first time seeing such for any written language other than Enochian. Whatever doubts he may have had regarding Jabal's intentions, which, of course, there were none, they had immediately eased away.
The man in question waved his lord over to the chair. "Now, I need to strap you into this chair before I turn on the device. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to say otherwise, the process is likely going to hurt. We are, after all, reconstructing your soul, and the best healing always has to cut inside just a little to solve the problem."
This gave the mad scientist wannabe a perplexed look. "I may be a wraith at this current moment in time, but could I not still just use my abilities to dull the pain?"
Jabal shook his head, a small grimace appearing on his face. "Unfortunately, in order for this to work, I can't have you making any expenditures of your spiritual energy. It's going to throw the machine off, and put us back at square one. Or, at least, I believe it will. Better to just be safe and not do anything that could possibly halt the process, right?"
There was some hesitation on Malakai's part, but eventually he nodded his head in agreement. "Right." He moved into the cylinder and sat down in the chair, trying to remain visibly calm as Jabal moved to strap him down with the restraints. It was actually fairly difficult, he had rarely been tied down like this before, in his worst moments of insanity, so not only did it provoke an instinctive fear of his, claustrophobia, it also reminded him of some bad memories. Not a winning combination to be feeling at the moment.
Finally, all of the restraints were in place. Jabal moved back to leave the cylinder and close the door, but before he did so, he leaned his head back into the chamber, a sad smile on his face. "You're going to be just fine. Your Grandfather was rarely ever wrong in his predictions, just like you, and since he's sure that everything is going to be alright, I think you should trust in his faith." The servant nodded his head, reminiscing about some memory Malakai knew not. He straightened up, his hand on the handle of the chamber, and said, "Before we begin, your Grandfather instructed me to say a few words to you." Jabal removed his sunglasses so that he could stare right into Malakai's eyes, as he did so, his face slackened for a brief second, before morphing into a mixed expression of sorrow and love. His mouth emitted but a few short phrases in a language Malakai hadn't heard in over seven thousand years.
"I love you, Malakai, my grandson, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a terrible parent, to you and all of your siblings and cousins. And I'm sorry, but this… will be our last goodbye."
The grandchild could not help but widen his eyes, he knew exactly what a possession looked like. "Grandfather?" he replied back in that same tongue. The man currently moving Jabal's body nodded his head, a greater smile than before on his visage, as he looked away, and closed the door. Grandfather… Perhaps he should be asking why Grandfather could not just immediately transport him once his soul had been restored instead of having to wait until he was back in the Material World, since he could obviously still possess his servant without issue, but Malakai didn't truly care about that. He got to see Grandfather, albeit in someone else's body, and maybe that was good enough for him.
Switches were flipped, he could hear them. Buzzing noises started to emerge from the top of the cylinder. Those noises grew and evolved into a cacophony which drilled through his ears. The pain of such eventually moved into his skull, and Malakai's World was Pain.


…And then, it was darkness.

A/N: Apologies for the lack of DxD stuff just yet, this is a send-off to the World of Darkness in effect, as such, we'll be focusing heavily on the DxD side more with chapter 1.

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[Critian Caceorte]

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Thank you, I should have noticed that the formatting got messed up when I pasted the chapter from the Word doc.