Beyond the Old Ones

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely a fanfic for enjoyment.

Cross-over from various games, books, anime, manga, and movies.

The familiar characters you see here belong to their respected authors and owners.

"Speech"

Time*

Chapter 23: It's An Accident

An hour later*

I stretch my back, feeling a satisfying crack as I finally finish preparing all the essentials I'll need for the future. Among the supplies, there's one particularly important item—a backup for my silver ritual knife, just in case I ever lose it.

The main preparation is the Holy Night Powder, a finely ground medicine explicitly designed for Beyonders. It serves to help guide one's powers before conducting ritual magic, creating a potent wall of Spirituality and establishing a clean, undisturbed spiritual environment. However, it has its limits—its benefits extend only until I secure a personal silver ritual knife or reach Sequence 7.

To accompany this powder, I've also crafted a specialized medication that neutralizes its scent, along with the essential oils typically used in these rituals. These two items alone have consumed more than half of my materials, yet they're worth it—enough to support a dozen rituals without needing a restock.

After carefully putting everything away, I rise from my seat and take a moment to stretch, feeling the tension ease from my muscles. With everything in its place, I'm ready to step out and make the most of the day ahead.

Just before stepping out, I decide to perform a quick ritual. Holding my silver ritual knife, I carve a delicate wall of Spirituality around myself, sealing the space to ensure the ritual proceeds without interference. With practiced precision, I complete the motions and allow the ritual to take effect, transporting me to the Sefirah Castle.

Upon arrival, I switch over to the Card of Fool, feeling the subtle shift as my connection to its power strengthens. Settling down at the laptop that resides here, I begin typing, invoking Computational Divination to seek out the answers I need. Once the divination completes and the laptop's screen fades, I leave the Sefirah Castle, feeling the pull of reality as I find myself back in my room; then, I quickly leave the bedroom.

A few hours later*

Rain pours down in steady streams as I stand atop a secluded rooftop overlooking the empty, shadowed alleyways of London. Below, I watch as Ciel and Sebastian confront Angelina Dalles—Madam Red—and her accomplice, who has already cast aside his disguise. Grelle Sutcliff stands revealed: a grim reaper adorned entirely in red, long, dark-red hair framing a face with razor-sharp, shark-like teeth. His chartreuse eyes seem to glow with an unnatural light behind her red-rimmed glasses, accented with chains and tiny skulls. Everything about his appearance is striking, a vivid spectacle against the drab backdrop of the rainy alley.

I shift focus for a moment, activating the Card of Paragon. Almost instinctively, I correct my perception, acknowledging Grelle as a she, based on what I recall reading about her true identity and desires. This slight adjustment makes me wonder: could I potentially sway Grelle to work under me if I offered something she desperately desires—becoming an actual woman without the need for painful surgery or difficult methods her kind might have to endure to change their gender?

Meanwhile, my thoughts turn to Angelina. Although canonically, she should die here, the web of contacts and influence she's built over the years might be worth preserving. Her network could prove highly useful, and with the right approach, I could likely devise a means to secure her loyalty, avoiding the typical fatal outcome this encounter would have for her.

I consider my options from my position as the rain continues to fall, rattling against the London night.

A sudden vision flickers through my mind: my head tilting just as the sharp crack of a gunshot rings out. Acting on instinct, I swiftly swap the Card of Wheel of Fortune for the Card of Abyss, feeling the intense surge of powers and alertness as it takes effect. In a fluid motion, I draw a kunai, anticipating the path of the bullet and deflecting it mid-air with a precise twist of my wrist.

Driven by instinct, I abandon my post, observing Ciel, Sebastian, and the situation below, focusing entirely on the source of the attack. I sprint toward the shooter, evading a volley of bullets that slice through the rain around me, each one narrowly missing as I close in on my target. Finally, within range, I throw my kunai, watching as it embeds itself deeply in the shooter's left eye. The figure drops instantly, lifeless, without so much as a sound.

I glance down at the shooter's face, taking in his features—a middle-aged British man with short brown hair and piercing black eyes. Oddly, he's dressed in an expensive black suit, which stands out compared to the gritty setting of a London alley. The assault rifle he used, an FN FAL, hints that this was no random thug; someone with access to such weaponry likely has significant backing or influence.

Crouching down, I retrieve my kunai, wiping the blood off on the dead shooter's black suit before switching to the Card of Paragon. As the power settles over me, I frown, searching my memories from both lifetimes for any trace of who this man might be, but nothing comes to mind. He's a stranger, without even a shadow of familiarity in my past or present. The question of who sent him and why lingers unanswered, gnawing at me as I stand back up, casting one last look at the lifeless body sprawled before me.

As I analyze the shooter's presence, a thought strikes me—perhaps his appearance wasn't meant for me at all. It's possible he arrived with a separate agenda, one disrupted only because I happened to occupy the very spot he had marked as his own target location. Judging by the FN FAL, he brought a full assault rifle instead of a sniper, his approach to assassination certainly seems unconventional. Nevertheless, I'll save these questions for later; with Computational Divination, I can likely uncover his original intent.

For now, I turn my attention back to the scene below. The earlier gunfire undoubtedly alerted Ciel and Sebastian, hinting at the conflict above. I move quickly, returning to my original vantage point just in time to see the climax of the confrontation unfolding. Sebastian has sustained injuries; his usually composed demeanor strained as he faces off against Grelle, her chainsaw whirring ominously close. It appears they're all on the verge of a dramatic monologue.

Before things go any further, I switch to the Card of Twilight Giant, feeling the surge of strength fill me instantly. With a burst of speed, I leap down and land between Angelina and Grelle. Without hesitation, I slam my left elbow into the side of Grelle's chainsaw, knocking it off course just as it's about to pierce Angelina's torso. In a single, fluid motion, I've averted her death, shifting the tide of the encounter and ensuring Madam Red remains alive for the moment.

I follow up with a swift, explosive strike, channeling enough Spirituality to amplify the blow, knowing full well that a grim reaper's body can withstand far more than any ordinary human. I drive my left knee hard into Grelle's unguarded torso. The impact is brutal, sending her hurtling through the rain-soaked air. She narrowly misses colliding with Sebastian, slamming into the wall instead with a resounding crash.

But it's clear this won't be enough to keep her down. With an enraged screech, Grelle bursts out of the rubble, chainsaw roaring as she lunges at me. Swiftly, I employ a rapid foot technique, sidestepping her assault with ease. In a blur, I maneuver beneath her, circling around to seize her by the shoulders. With a powerful leap, I push off, shifting into a handstand above her before swinging my right leg in a full arc.

My foot connects squarely with her face, sending her flying once more, crashing back into the wall with enough force to break the wall at this point. For now, she's down, but I keep my guard up, prepared for whatever counterattack she might try next.

All of this unfolds within mere seconds.

"Chikao?!" Ciel yells, his voice laced with shock as he finally processes the sudden turn of events.

"I must say, this is quite a surprise." Sebastian said with a hint of disbelief.

Even without glancing over, I can feel Sebastian's gaze locked onto me, assessing my presence and every movement with an intense, almost analytical observation.

Grelle's screech cuts through the air, laced with even more fury. "How dare you hit me in my beautiful face?! Not once! BUT TWICE!" Her eyes flash with pure rage as she reemerges, her anger boiling over. "Such a brute like you doesn't know how to treat a fine, classy lady such as I! For a lady, her face is her life!"

I inwardly wince, remembering my earlier thoughts about recruiting her. Well... there goes that plan.

Grelle turns on Angelina, brandishing her chainsaw as she points it accusingly. "And you! I'm so disappointed in you, Madam Red! Failing to kill that brat makes you plain. I would have killed you by now if not for this brute! I loved seeing you drenched in the deepest crimson of spattered blood, Madam Red! But now? You're nothing but a letdown, swayed by silly emotions. I broke the grim reaper rules for you, killed women not on the list, and helped set up your alibi… but you're just like all the others! You don't deserve to wear red at all… no, ma'am!"

For a moment, I just stare blankly at her monologue, caught off guard by her passion for murder mixed with betrayal.

"And you!" Grelle whips her furious gaze back to me, only to choke on her words mid-sentence. "I—"

I'm already in front of her, delivering a high kick squarely to her face, snapping her head back, though this time, not hard enough to send her flying. Not stopping there, I focus Spirituality through the arteries in my left leg, then stomp down on her right foot with a forceful crack, shattering the bones beneath my heel.

"GAH! MY FOOT! AND WHY THE FACE AGAIN?!" Grelle shrieks, stumbling as pain surges through her, and I watch her fury contort into genuine anguish.

Without a pause, I drive a sharp blow into Grelle's right wrist, causing her grip on the chainsaw to loosen. Seizing the moment, I pry the weapon from her hand, tossing it behind me, out of her reach. In one fluid movement, I sweep her legs out from under her, sending her crashing sideways to the ground. Before she can recover, I plant another firm kick directly to her face, propelling her across the ground.

"AH!" Grelle shrieks, clutching her face. "AGAIN WITH THE FACE! WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST MY FACE?!"

I finally break my silence, shrugging as I watch her glare up at me. "To be fair… I have no idea why I keep aiming for your face. Maybe you've just got a face that makes people want to attack it?"

From behind me, I catch Sebastian's faintly amused comment, "He isn't wrong…"

Grelle, still cradling her bruised face, scoffs indignantly. "With a beautiful face such as mine, why would anyone attack it? If anything, people should be protecting it with their very lives! My face is art!"

"Was." I cut in, my tone dry.

"What?" Grelle glare sharpens, blazing with renewed fury.

"Was, as in, right now, your face is anything but beautiful." I pause, considering for a moment. "Actually, I don't think your face was ever beautiful to begin with."

Grelle's eyes widen, and for a split second, her outrage seems to take on a new depth. She huffs, spluttering, and I can practically feel the shock radiating off her as she tries to process the insult.

"I'll kill you!"