Throne & DxD

Hello masters-in-arms, here is part 2 of the side story I am working on. Please tell me you thoughts on the story so far, your feedback is greatly appreciated. I do not own any characters in this story besides my OCs. I have opened commission log if anyone is interested in getting a one-shot chapter, just leave a comment if you want one.

Metamorphosis XI (Part 2)

The first thing I noticed was how heavy my body felt. I couldn't move properly, and everything around me seemed... massive. The light was blinding, and my thoughts felt sluggish, as if I was swimming through syrup.

I tried to move my arms, but they didn't respond the way I expected. Instead, tiny fingers wriggled in front of me. What the hell? Why are my hands so small? Panic started to creep in as I looked around. Everything was blurry, shapes and colors melding together in a disorienting mess.

Then it hit me. My body, my surroundings, everything felt wrong. I tried to speak, but only a pitiful wail escaped my lips. That's when I realized it. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no," I thought, the panic rising to full-blown terror. "We've been reborn. We're babies."

I flailed, trying to make sense of what had happened. My memories came rushing back. Zelretch. High School DxD. Cheat skills. Everything leading up to this insane moment. My mind screamed, but my tiny body only produced more cries.

I tried to roll around to get a better look, but my body was too fragile to move, I turned my head—or rather, it lolled awkwardly to the side—and saw her bundled next to me. Even with my blurry vision, I could tell it was her. Her wails sounded just as distressed as mine.

"John? John, is that you?" A familiar voice rang in my mind, clear and unmistakable. "Wait... Jane? This is telepathy!" I responded, stunned.

 "She's here too." I thought, relief washing over me. "You're here! What is going on? Why are we babies?" Jane's voice was frantic in my head, echoing the same panic I felt. "I don't know, but I blame Zelretch," I shot back.

 "We're in this together," I told her, trying to calm down.

"Okay, Jane. Now explain why out of all the worlds we could have gone to, you chosen High School DxD. I asked. "Because, my oh so incompetent other half. This is Zelretch we are talking about, he is not to be trusted. Didn't you find it strange that someone like him, a fictional character granting our wish, wanting nothing in return? I chose this world because the age of gods hasn't ended yet. If we find a god that can help us, it will sever our ties to him, and we can truly be free." She said as she coos and waddle her infant limbs. 

 The sound of a door creaking open drew our attention. A warm, comforting presence approached. Through the blur, I could make out the shape of a woman. She leaned over us, her voice soft and soothing as she began to hum a lullaby. I couldn't understand the words, but the melody was calming, easing the panic that gripped my tiny body.

I felt her pick me up, her arms steady and gentle. This must be our new mother. She held me close, and for a moment, I forgot about the craziness of the situation. The warmth of her embrace, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat—it was... comforting.

"Okay," I thought, "This isn't so bad. We just have to survive until we grow up. Easy, right?"

Then I heard a loud, wet sound and felt something disgusting in my diaper.

"Oh, for the love of—this is going to be a nightmare," I groaned internally as the woman—our mother, I assumed—laughed softly and began to change me.

I glanced at Jane again, who had calmed down but was looking equally confused and annoyed. Somehow, even as a baby, she managed to give me that look that said, "A THOUSAND CURSES!!!"

"We'll get through this, sis," I thought. "One dirty diaper at a time. We'll get through this, sis," I thought. Hearing Jane groan in my mind. "Don't remind me," she replied.

The next few days were a blur of trial and error as we adjusted to our new infant bodies. Moving our limbs felt like trying to swim through molasses, and every small success—wiggling our fingers, rolling onto our sides—felt like climbing a mountain. Jane and I communicated telepathically, keeping each other motivated and laughing through the absurdity of it all.

"Hey, John, watch this," Jane said one afternoon. I turned to see her managing to roll onto her stomach. "Victory!" she cheered in my mind.

"Show off," I replied, focusing all my effort on copying her. Moments later, I managed it too, though I promptly faceplanted into the soft bedding. "See? I can do it too."

Each day, we grew a little stronger, a little more coordinated. We even started to recognize patterns in our mother's movements and sounds, though her words were still incomprehensible to us. It was almost comforting, this slow but steady progress, and for a moment, it felt like things might be okay.

That illusion shattered one evening. The peace of our little home was broken by the sound of splintering wood as a group of thugs barged into the hut. Their rough voices and heavy footsteps filled the air, sending a wave of panic through me.

Our mother stepped in front of them, her voice firm but desperate as she tried to stop them. I couldn't understand her words, but her resolve was clear. One of the men raised his hand, and in an instant, a burst of magic obliterated her. She was gone, just like that.

Jane's cries filled my mind and the room as I froze, paralyzed by the sheer brutality of what I'd just witnessed. Before I could process what was happening, a figure in a black cloak appeared. She moved swiftly, scooping Jane and me into her arms. Her face was hidden, but her grip was steady and protective.

As the hut burned behind us, the woman carried us away, her cloak billowing in the wind. I looked back at the flames consuming what little we had known of this new life, my mind a whirl of fear, anger, and confusion. "Jane, we'll survive this," I thought, more to reassure myself than her. "We have to."

Years passed, and with that came the horrifying realization of where we truly were. From our whispered telepathic conversations and the things we observed around us, we pieced together the truth: we were in the Hero Faction of the Khaos Brigade. The same group that had taken us from our mother. The same group responsible for her death.

Our hatred for these people grew with each passing day. They saw themselves as righteous, as heroes, but we knew better. We saw through their lies, their grand speeches about justice and balance. For us, they were nothing more than murderers. Jane and I never stopped reminding each other of that day, the fire, the way they obliterated our mother as if she were nothing.

Now, around the age of 13, my sister and I found ourselves at the training grounds. The sprawling field was filled with recruits and seasoned members honing their skills, the sound of clashing weapons and shouted commands creating a cacophony of discipline and chaos. We weren't spared from the rigors of their training. Our instructor was a retired drill sergeant—a grizzled, intimidating man whose bark was just as fierce as his bite. He believed in tough love, and his lessons were relentless.

"The art of war is not for the faint of heart!" he barked, pacing in front of us. His sharp eyes bore into each of us, daring us to falter. "You must be precise, calculated, and, above all, unrelenting! Again!"

Jane and I exchanged a glance, our telepathic connection buzzing with shared thoughts.

"Think he ever stops yelling?" Jane asked dryly, her mental tone laced with irritation.

"Doubt it. Pretty sure he yells in his sleep," I replied, trying to suppress a smirk as I adjusted my stance.

Despite our disdain for our captors, we threw ourselves into the training with a ferocity that rivaled even the most dedicated recruits. Every swing of the blade, every precise step, every calculated strike—we treated it as preparation for the day we'd make our escape, the day we'd exact our revenge.

The drill sergeant approached us as we sparred against each other, his piercing gaze observing every move. "Hanzo! Shizuka! Faster, sharper! You think your enemy will give you time to breathe? Again!"

"Yes, sir," we replied in unison, our voices steady despite the exhaustion burning in our muscles.

Jane lunged at me with a wooden blade, her strikes fast and precise, forcing me to parry and counter. She smirked as I struggled to keep up, her mental voice taunting me. "Come on, John, don't tell me I'm better than you already."

"Dream on," I shot back, sidestepping her next attack and going on the offensive. Our sparring sessions often turned into subtle competitions, each of us pushing the other to improve.

After hours of grueling drills, the sergeant finally called for a break. We collapsed onto the ground, drenched in sweat but alive with determination. Around us, other recruits rested, some exchanging tips and camaraderie, while Jane and I kept to ourselves.

"We're getting stronger," Jane said, her tone serious. "If we keep this up, we'll be ready soon."

"Yeah," I agreed, glancing at the other recruits. "And when the time comes, they won't know what hit them." The training grounds may have been their domain, but every lesson we learned brought us one step closer to freedom—and vengeance.

"John, we need to get stronger," Jane said, her voice cold in my mind. "If we don't, we'll never be able to leave this place... or have our revenge."

"I know," I replied, anger simmering beneath my calm tone. "We'll play along for now, but one day, they'll regret everything they've done." The world around us saw us as children of the Hero Faction, but inside, we were anything but loyal. We were survivors, waiting for our moment.

While we continued our training with these monsters, someone caught our eye. Cao Cao and Siegfried—figures we immediately recognized from the High School DxD light novel and anime. But seeing them in person, growing up alongside them, was an entirely different experience. Their presence was more oppressive, their every movement calculated, radiating a kind of authority that sent shivers down our spines.

Cao-Cao's sharp eyes scanned the training grounds, his gaze sweeping over everyone and everything as if assessing their value. He exuded an intimidating aura, his stoic demeanor and cold gaze a perfect complement to the Hero Faction's soon to be leader.

Siegfried stood next to him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but no less intimidating. The two of them moved with purpose, their steps light but deliberate, their demeanor exuding the confidence of men who always knew they were in control.

As we watched, someone handed Cao-Cao a clipboard. He glanced at it briefly before scribbling something down. His expression didn't change, but there was a tension in the air, as though his thoughts carried weight far beyond what was written. Even among the other recruits, they stood apart, untouchable and always scheming. Once he finished, he handed it back and left the training grounds, Siegfried trailing silently behind him.

"Did you see that?" Jane's voice cut into my mind, sharp and focused.

"Yeah," I replied, my gaze still fixed on the spot where they had been. "What do you think they're planning?"

"Nothing good," she said, her tone filled with unease. "Cao-Cao doesn't do anything without a reason. Whatever's on that clipboard, it's important. I've got a bad feeling about this."

So did I. Cao-Cao's reputation from the stories was one thing, but seeing him in person made it all too real. His cunning, ambition—they were things that could swallow anyone who wasn't careful. And Siegfried? He was no less dangerous, a sword in human form, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Both of them were a constant presence in our lives, a reminder of the dangerous world we were stuck in. Their actions only solidified our determination to escape—no matter the cost.

We exchanged a quick glance, our telepathic link buzzing with unspoken thoughts. "Stay sharp," I reminded sis. "If they're up to something, we need to be ready."

"Agreed," she replied. "Let's just hope they're not looking for us."

But deep down, we both knew better. In the Hero Faction, everything was connected, and if Cao Cao and Siegfried were plotting, it was only a matter of time before their plans reached us. For now, all we could do was keep our heads down and wait for the moment we could finally make our move.

The next day arrived with an unsettling air of tension. All the recruits, including my sister and me, were gathered at the main gate of the village. The instructors stood at attention, their faces grim as they announced the day's task: hunting demonic beasts. A ripple of unease spread through the group. Most of the recruits looked worried, but Jane and I were terrified. We knew this was only one piece of the Hero Faction's insane plans—a test designed to weed out the weak and mold the survivors into their ideal soldiers.

As we marched through the dense forest, the instructors led us to a large, ominous cave—clearly a monster den. The air was thick with the scent of blood and decay, and faint growls echoed from within, sending shivers down my spine. The instructors stopped and turned to face us, their expressions cold and unyielding.

"Your task," one of them barked, "is to slay at least ten demonic beasts. Each of you must bring proof of your kills. No exceptions."

"What?!" someone in the group exclaimed, their voice trembling. The rest of the recruits murmured nervously, the fear palpable.

Jane and I exchanged a panicked glance, our telepathic link buzzing with frantic thoughts. "This is insane," Jane said, her mental voice sharp with terror. "They're sending us to die."

"Stay calm," I replied, trying to steady my thoughts despite my own fear. "We'll figure a way through this."

On the sidelines, Cao-Cao and Siegfried stood silently, observing the scene with detached interest. Their mere presence added to the oppressive weight of the moment. They weren't here to help us. They were here to watch.

"Attack!" the lead instructor commanded, his voice slicing through the tension like a whip.

The recruits hesitated for a split second, then, as if driven by instinct or fear, surged forward. Jane and I were dragged along in the chaotic rush, our feet moving against our will as the crowd stormed the den.

What followed was nothing short of a massacre. The demonic beasts—hulking, grotesque creatures with razor-sharp claws and glowing red eyes—burst from the shadows, tearing into the recruits with horrifying ease. Blood sprayed across the forest floor as screams filled the air, the recruits' weapons barely scratching the monsters' thick hides. Limbs were severed, bodies thrown like ragdolls, and the stench of death grew unbearable.

Jane and I fought desperately to stay alive, dodging and weaving through the chaos. I managed to stab one beast in the side with a sword, but it barely flinched before swiping at me. I hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as Jane pulled me to my feet.

"We can't keep this up!" she shouted in my mind, her voice frantic. "They're too strong!"

The remaining monsters circled us, their glowing red eyes full of malice, ready to strike the final blow.

As we huddled together, thinking this was the end, a strange sensation coursed through our bodies. A warmth, an energy like nothing we had ever felt before, began to build within us. Suddenly, our bodies glowed with a light. It hit us all at once: our Sacred Gears had awakened.

In my hands, a double-edged sword materialized, its blade pulsing with a energy. Beside me, Jane clutched a book, its pages glowing faintly as if alive. The monsters hesitated, growling in uncertainty as we rose to our feet.

"John, I think we can do this," Jane said, her voice steady in my mind.

"Let's finish this," I replied, gripping my sword tightly.

Together, with our newfound power, we barely managed to finish off the remaining monsters. My sword cut through their thick hides like paper, while Jane's book unleashed bursts of energy that disoriented and burned them. It wasn't easy, and every strike pushed us closer to exhaustion, but somehow, we endured.

All around us, recruits were falling, their cries of agony cutting through the forest. A few managed to land killing blows on the beasts, but it wasn't enough. For every monster that fell, another seemed to emerge from the shadows, their fury relentless. The ground was slick with blood, the forest floor littered with mangled bodies.

Somehow, through sheer luck or determination, Jane and I survived. We fought as a team, our telepathic link allowing us to anticipate each other's movements. Together, we managed to take down several beasts, our weapons coated in their black, oozing blood. But the cost was high. Of the dozens of recruits who had charged into the den, only a handful remained, their faces pale and haunted as they stumbled back toward the forest's edge.

Cao-Cao and Siegfried watched the carnage unfold without a hint of emotion. As we regrouped, battered and broken, Cao-Cao stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the survivors. For a moment, his eyes met mine, and a disappointed expression was shown.

"Disappointing," he said, his voice carrying a chilling finality. Then they turned and walked away, leaving us to absorb the horror of what we had just endured. Later that day, we are back in our crappy shed, bandaging ourselves up, even after the healing magic that was given to us.

"We have to get out of here, sis! Today we were just lucky, the next time will be the end." I communicated to her, terrified. "I know! That's why I have these." She removed a floor board and pulled out a bag, revealing it to be monster bait and a map of marked spots. "We will spread these around the village and activate them tomorrow, during morning training. Then we raid the armory to cripple the faction's power."

"Then let do it." I responded. We took our share of bait and made our way though the village in the middle of the night. Making sure that we were not caught by the guards and placing the bait in unsuspected places, blind spots that we research though out our time here.

The next day, before we could fully comprehend the implications of our newly awakened Sacred Gears, Jane and I were separated from the other recruits. No explanations were given, only curt orders and cold stares as we were escorted to an isolated facility deep in the forest. It was far removed from the village and the training grounds, a place shrouded in silence and dread. The facility loomed before us, a monolithic structure of gray concrete and steel, devoid of any warmth or humanity.

Inside, we were restrained on cold metal tables. The icy touch of the steel cuffs around our wrists and ankles made it clear that this was no ordinary training exercise. The air was stale, laced with the faint smell of chemicals. Faint echoes of screams reverberated through the sterile hallways, sending a chill down my spine.

Our captor finally revealed himself—a man whose presence radiated authority and malice. He introduced himself with no fanfare, only a name spoken in a clipped, cold tone. His piercing blue eyes and cruel smirk made my skin crawl. "You," he sneered, looking at us like specimens rather than people, "are lucky to be useful. Your Sacred Gears—Twice Critical—may be common, but the potential you'll awaken here will makes you... special."

His words were venom, and I saw Jane's fists clench against her restraints. I could feel her anger burning through our link, matching my own. But there was nothing we could do. The nightmare began.

The physical torture was brutal and methodical. Needles injected us with substances that burned through our veins, electricity surged through our bodies, and blows rained down on us without mercy. But the worst part was our psychic link. Every jolt of pain I felt was mirrored in Jane, and every ounce of agony she endured echoed back to me. It created an endless loop of suffering, amplifying each instance of torment tenfold.

What made this whole ordeal worse was that we were surrounded by mirrors, seeing our pain POV, makes it all unbearable.

"John," Jane's voice trembled in my mind, but her words carried strength. "I'm not going to break. Don't let them win."

"I won't," I replied, though every fiber of my being screamed in protest.

The mental torment was worse. Using magic, the DOCTOR pried into our minds, dragging our most painful memories to the surface and twisting them into grotesque nightmares. Memories of our mother's death were replayed in vivid detail, her screams overlapping with our own. The link between us made it inescapable—intensifying our pain, her fear fed mine, and mine fed hers, creating a spiral of anguish.

Then came the drugs. Potent and mind-altering, they dulled our ability to resist and made it harder to focus. Combined with spells of compulsion, they were meant to break us down completely, to rewrite our very thoughts.

"You will be perfect soldiers," the man said, his voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction as he injected another dose into my arm. "You will serve the Hero Faction without question."

"They think they're breaking us," Jane said, her voice firm despite the torment. "But they don't understand. We will make them all pay!!!"

"They'll regret this," I replied, anger surging through me even as my body ached. "One day, we'll make them regret everything they've done."

Every second in that facility felt like an eternity, the pain and torment testing the limits of our resolve. But through it all, one thought remained clear: we had to survive. For ourselves, for each other, and for the vengeance that burned in our hearts.

The next day, when I woke up, my entire body ached as though I'd been ripped apart and stitched back together. The bright lights above me stung my eyes, and it took a moment to realize I was in a hospital bed. My wrists were bound by leather straps, and beside me, Jane lay on another bed, her face pale but her chest rising and falling steadily.

A mage stood nearby, murmuring incantations as a soft glow emanated from their hands. The magic coursing through us was painful yet strangely soothing, forcing the fractured pieces of our minds and bodies to stitch themselves back together. Slowly, clarity returned, the fog of drugs and spells lifting like a heavy curtain.

"John?" Jane's voice whispered in my mind, faint but there.

"I'm here," I replied, relief flooding me. "Are you okay?"

"No," she admitted. "But we have to get out of here. Now."

She was right. If we didn't act soon, we might never get another chance. Jane mustered what strength she had and activated the monster bait. A deafening roar echoed through the village, shaking the very walls of the hospital. The ground trembled beneath us as chaos erupted outside. Shouts and the sound of boots on cobblestones filled the air as the Hero Faction scrambled to respond.

The mage turned their attention to the commotion, muttering something about securing the wards. That moment of distraction was all we needed. Summoning every ounce of strength, I staggered to my feet, my hands trembling as I grabbed my Sacred Gear sword. With a single swing, I decapitated the mage. The blade clattered to the floor as I stared at what I'd done, nausea rising in my throat.

"John, focus!" Jane's voice jolted me back to reality. "We have to move!"

Shaking off the hesitation, I helped her to her feet, and together, we made our way out of the hospital. The village was in chaos, the roar of the monsters driving everyone into a frenzy. Guards rushed past us, weapons drawn, completely oblivious to our escape.

We headed straight for the armory, knowing it was our best chance at survival. Inside, we were greeted by an overwhelming sight—racks of mystic weapons, shelves lined with ancient books, and tables piled with enchanted items.

Jane immediately grabbed a storage bag, its enchanted capacity perfect for what we needed. We filled it to the brim with everything we could carry—blades, potions, grimoires, and anything else that might prove useful. Further inside, my eyes were drawn to a weapon standing out among the rest: Gram, one of Siegfried's signature swords.

I reached out to take it, but the blade wouldn't budge. Gritting my teeth, I pulled with all my might, but it refused to move. My sword glow, the blade dispersed leaving the hilt, I gripped the hilt of my Sacred Gear, feeling its power stir within me. An idea struck.

-Bypass Overtaker-

With a determined grunt, I jammed the hilt into the base of the sword. The two fused instantly, light flaring as the weapon accepted me as its wielder. The blade pulsed with energy, and I knew it was now mine.

I turned to find Jane clutching a new grimoire, its cover shimmering with an eerie light. She gave me a nod, and together we left the armory, moving quickly and quietly toward the edge of the village. We stopped briefly at a hidden spot where we'd stashed our supply bag, ensuring we had everything we needed for the journey ahead.

At the outskirts of the village, we turned back. Flames and smoke rose into the sky, the result of the monster bait still wreaking havoc. Jane opened her grimoire, her eyes cold and focused. With a wave of her hand, the book's pages glowed, and explosions erupted throughout the village.

"You never told me about explosive, Jane" I stated. She turns to me, "Do you believed it was unnecessary?" speaking coldly. "NO!" I replied.

We watched in silence as the Hero Faction's stronghold crumbled, their forces thrown into chaos. Hatred burned in our eyes, but for the first time in years, we felt a sliver of hope.

"Let's go," Jane said, her voice steady as she closed the grimoire.

I nodded, and without looking back, we disappeared into the forest, leaving the Hero Faction crippled and broken in our wake. Waiting for the day me slaughter them all.

Back in his domain, Zelretch observed the chaos unfolding in the Hero Faction's village through a shimmering crystal. The twins had executed their escape plan with precision, leaving devastation in their wake. The sight has amused him—he always enjoyed a good twist—but it also left him puzzled.

"This doesn't make sense," he muttered, frowning. "I didn't send them to the Hero Faction. What went wrong?"

He paced the vast expanse of his domain, the crystalline reflections of countless realities swirling around him. Something had shifted, altering the course of the twins' fate. After a moment of contemplation, his eyes widened in realization.

"Fae Bell!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the kaleidoscopic void.

From behind him, she appeared, her appearance was elegant yet mischievous, her smirk radiating defiance.

"You rang?" she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Zelretch turned to face her, his expression darkening. "What have you done?"

Fae Bell crossed her arms. "Oh, come now, Wizard Marshal. Don't act so surprised. You weren't going to give them enough suffering. Life needs suffering to grow, and I merely ensured they got a healthy dose."

Zelretch's frown deepened. "You interfered with my plans," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "The Hero Faction was never meant to be part of it. That place is a cesspool of twisted ideologues and maniacs."

"Precisely why I chose it," Fae Bell replied with a sly grin. "You were soft. Letting them bumble around in DxD's safer corners wouldn't have forged them into anything remarkable. You should be thanking me."

"This is my world!" Zelretch snapped, his anger barely restrained. "Their suffering has been amplified beyond reason. Do you even understand the consequences of your meddling?"

"Oh, spare me the lecture," Fae Bell said, rolling her eyes. "I understand perfectly. And look at them now—stronger, smarter, driven by purpose. Suffering has made them grow. You would've coddled them. How dull."

Before Zelretch could respond, Fae Bell's gaze shifted. Her smirk faltered for a brief moment as she focused on another reflection in the crystalline void.

"Well, well," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. "It seems our little pet has conquered another floor."

Zelretch's eyes followed hers to a shimmering image of Kio, battered but triumphant, standing on the latest floor of his grueling trials.

Fae Bell's smirk returned, venomous and mocking. "While you waste time arguing with me, he's surpassing even your expectations. I do love watching you squirm, old man."

With one last vile remark, she vanished in a swirl of dark energy, leaving Zelretch alone in his domain.

He stared at the shifting images before him, his expression unreadable. The twins, Kio, the ripple effects of Fae Bell's interference—all of it.

"What to do," he murmured, his tone contemplative. "What to do indeed." The crystalline void shimmered in response, as if reflecting his uncertainty.

At the ruined village of the Hero Faction, a somber atmosphere filled the air as the remaining members surveyed the destruction and tallied their losses. Amidst the chaos, a man approached Cao-Cao and Siegfried, clutching a report in his trembling hands.

He began his debrief with a nervous stammer. "Sir, we've tallied the damage. There are… significant casualties. Additionally, there's something strange—one of our mages was found dead in a hospital room. But, there were no signs of a monster attack in that area. And… the twins, Hanzo and Shizuka are gone."

Cao-Cao's sharp eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent, letting the messenger continue.

Another man stepped forward, his face pale with unease. "Sir… the armory was raided. Several weapons and items are missing." He hesitated, his voice faltering as he glanced nervously at Siegfried. "Including… Gram. Familiars identified the twins going in and coming out."

The tension in the air grew palpable. Siegfried's expression darkened immediately, his fists clenched. Before anyone could react, he struck the messenger with a powerful punch, exploding the man in to flesh and bone. "They took Gram?!" Siegfried's voice was a roar of fury, his anger barely restrained. "Those fuckin pieces of…" Cao-Cao stepped in, placing a firm hand on Siegfried's shoulder. His voice, though calm, carried an edge of authority that brooked no defiance. "Siegfried, enough. You have other weapons at your disposal. We will get it back, so focus."

Siegfried's jaw tightened, but he nodded grudgingly, reigning in his temper.

Cao-Cao turned back to the gathered group, his voice cold and commanding. "Set a bounty on the twins' heads. Spread word to our allies and inform our operatives. These thieves will not escape us. They may think they've gained power, but they've only painted a target on their backs."

The Hero Faction regrouping amidst their shared anger and loss. The twins' disappearance—and the theft of Gram—was more than a blow to their plans; it was a challenge. And Cao Cao was determined to respond in kind.

Side Story, CH end