DxD: Celeste 2

DxD: Celeste 2

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Commissioned by Althero and Chaosbrain

Wordcount: 2000

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I stared as Hyoudou Issei and sighed.

“Well, that answers the question whether or not retroviral gene-editing changes personalities.” The Hyoudou that I knew was a pervert, but he had it under control and was generally considered a regular person in society. “Or, maybe it was the lifelong propaganda preparing everyone for life fighting against interdimensional enemies?”

“The more you talk about your previous world the more I’m terrified, but interested.” Azazel shook his head, while I flipped through channels on my drones on my holographic screen. He looked at me enviously, while he worked on a shit computer that had no modularity, was difficult to repair, and couldn’t interlink with dozens of others to become a supercomputer. It was gross. “You say that this young man is one of the most powerful beings in existence?”

“He held off Trihexia and an army of interdimensional demons from reaching earth for almost three hours on his own. He almost died, but he did it.”

“Bwuh.”

I clicked and looked through the rest of my invisible drones for other Longinus Users and powerful Sacred Gears. The True Longinus was nowhere to be found, along with Telos Karma, Innovate Clear, Dimension Lost, Annihilation Maker, and Absolute Demise. I supposed that, since there wasn’t much of an apocalypse going on, it was likely that they weren’t awakened and unlikely to.

Canis Lykaon was with the Grigori with Tobio Ikuse and not Santiago, but it was technically earlier in time and South America was very, very different. Sephiroth Graal was apparently with the Tepes and I couldn’t locate them. Incinerate Anthem belonged to some magicians with names that set off a lot of childhood memories that weren’t all too pleasant. Man, I wished that I never went through that phase as a teenager. I remember dying, but remembering all the edgy stuff I did… made me want to relive those final moments.

Anyway, finally, there was Divine Dividing with Vali Lucifer.

Who was… disappointing.

“Wow. One sigh and I know you’re thinking about Vali. I feel bad for the kid.” Azazel raised an eyebrow, while I settled on looking at the Lucifer’s great grandchild in this dimension. “Was Valerie really that good?”

“I grew up fighting against her and getting better fighting against her.” Valerie had a really, really troubled phase getting out of the house, but before that she defined perfect. Great grades, immense power, and a really, really great body that broadened my horizons. She had style, grace, and could kick me in face to shut me down 9 times outta ten… and not because I’d let her. “This guy’s a high eight, maybe a low nine, and I bet I’d kick his ass if we were the same age.”

“I think you mixed something in there than I shouldn’t know.”

“You have a literal harem, you can endure listening about my love life back home.” Man, I missed them more than I though. Sure, we’d gone our separate ways to pursue what we all wanted. Song was around helping worlds save themselves with everyone who wanted, while everyone else pursued hobbies or did their own thing. Still, we could reach other just fine and get together. I probably saw everyone once a month and saw Song and Val once a week. But, here I was in another world with a less developed culture and lacking in partners with the proper, ahem, toughness for what I liked. “Have you finished making Homunculi yet?”

“Please stop asking me speed up creating a new race, just so you can get your rocks off, Father.”

“You know what? You make a valid point. I’ll stop… but just so we’re clear, I want them made so I can jumpstart AI production to reconnect back home and not make partners purely for pleasure. Even if that would be hot, Song would be very angry at me for it.”

“I can’t believe it. I actually liked you more when you had a stick up your ass and literally threw me out of Heaven.”

“Shut up, you know you like you this me more.”

Azazel grunted and rolled his eyes, but he hasn’t stopped smirking since we started talking

Yeah, even with how topsy-turvy and weird this world was, I was glad to find Azazel was still the same person that he usually was.

But back to my plans of gathering a strike team to handle problems, after my little, brief break.

“When you’re making Homunculi, tell me, because this guy needs to get roughed up and trained up. This world’s too peaceful for Dragons to really be all they’re worth.” At Vali’s age, Valerie could fight against a budding Aspect. This guy didn’t even hold a candle to Hyoudou during the Chimera war. He definitely couldn’t last against Destruction let alone tango with Ouroboros’ higher ups. “Oh, and how’s my program doing with the stock market?”

I built a supercomputer and coded a program to buy low and sell high with ridiculous efficiency, so that I could acquire funds. I’d be embarrassed to show it off in any forums back home, especially with the shit hardware, but here in crazyland…

“You’re a multimillionaire. In a half-a-decade you’ll be a billionaire. Congratulations. You now have even more of everything anyone wants.”

Yep.

Figures.

Well, time to revolutionize the hardware, so humanity can benefit AND make what I needed for me.

After dinner with my kid from another dimension, though.

“Want to get some food and maybe scare the Church a little?”

“…yeah…”

…

Crazyland did have one thing over home: food.

Years of wartime preparation and careful food management left humanity with a lot of sustainable options that everyone could get and barely any high-quality, high-maintenance ingredients. Samples and stuff were taken and secured, but they were for when the war was wone or if we colonized another planet.

That meant that even the swankiest restaurants usually handled only one breed of cow for their steaks, one kind of high-quality butter for their dishes, and one kind of flour, even with different consistencies, for all their pasta, bread, and other things. However, in an earth that wasn’t ravaged by nukes, massive monsters, and other portents for the apocalypse… artisanal chefs worked with artisanal ingredients and it was amazing.

I was eating a dish in Italy that was just the best pasta, best cheese, best pepper, and best oil prepared by the best chef… and it was exponentially better than the best Italian food I could get back home. Even though we had access to luxury stock, Creighton controlled just how much of that existed and he didn’t go out of his way to secure the very best of the best. It was a logical, calculated move to just retain the culture and knowledge for the future… but I couldn’t help but think he was at fault for making me look like a pig.

Because I was on my fifth bowl of pasta, most of the restaurant was staring, and I intended to keep eating for the rest of the night.

The chef looked at me like I was crazy with every order, but I was pretty sure the mustachioed Italian was in love with my appetite and barely stopping himself from asking me what dish I wanted next.

I’d make his career if I asked him for everything on the menu, so I probably would.

Oh, and Azazel was here too, I guess.

Morbid fascination filled his features.

“Where is it going? You’re eating more than a human should, but you don’t look like you’re going to stop.” I finished the bowl and started on the bread, after ordering another bowl. The bread didn’t just taste like bread. It had earthy notes, tangy notes, and an irregular crunchiness of the crust, while also faintly tasting of the pasta and the local olive oil. It blew all focaccia I had back home out of the water, before I dipped it in local balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, and olive oil. At that point, it basically just showed off. “Did you modify your stomach just to eat more?”

“I eat as much as I want and don’t get fat.” I’d probably have better self-control, if I’d eaten more as a child. However, in my early years, I was focused on things like controlling my berserker rage and manifesting powers that could stave off the apocalypse. A bad move in hindsight, since I could barely stop myself from talking with my mouth full. “Always could and always will and that’s that.”

Azazel sighed at my non-explanation, but I shrugged since that was all I could give him.

He should see Destruction when she finds out Song is cooking anything.

Or, Coda whenever she enters a Gelato shop.

Those two left no survivors and had no shame.

But that was enough of my frenzied consumption.

“So… that’s Zenith Tempest, huh?” The Church had responded to Azazel’s arrival with their Longinus user and a few no-name Exorcists. Well, they probably had names, but I didn’t know them. They were probably dead back home. “Huh, he doesn’t look like anyone that I know.”

Azazel made a noncommittal gesture and shrugged, before taking a bite of his own meal. He’d eyed up my meal, but I was sure that he was on his third steak and fifth bottle of wine. The cheeky brat was being as much of a glutton as me!

“The Church keeps him secret. They probably did the same back where you came from, though I imagine that a storm or two has assisted their forces once or twice in dire situations. Maybe some rainfall on cities to prevent them from burning too much?” Azazel mused and raised his glass towards the Church’s representatives. The Exorcists tensed, but the wielder of Zenith Tempest just gave a nod and lifted his own glass. “Dulio’s also in close contact with Michael. I hear they’re developing their own way to make more Angels… I believe that it’s the Brave Saint System, you said?”

Thankfully, Azazel obfuscated his words, since that project was a secret. I almost didn’t notice the illusion he placed on his lips and the faint other words sent in every other direction from his spell. He was very clever at being sneaky.

I wasn’t as good, so I just nodded, before changing the subject and taking a sidelong look at them.

“Hmmm. You know, they don’t look as bad as you told me they were.” Azazel’s information on the Church was filled with a lot of things that didn’t happen back in my world. The Holy Sword Project was an egregious one that I was glad was stopped… but I was angry at for even existing. I had half a mind to show up and reveal myself to just ask about that brand of stupidity. “Honestly, it sounds like someone’s pulling their strings, since they’re weak.”

Heaven lost the Great War here. A lot of Angels fell that didn’t in the past, while I truly died too. The Devils had their Civil War, but because they weren’t that hurt, it didn’t harm them nearly as much as it did in my own world. The Grigori, meanwhile, were as strong as they were in my world… but Azazel didn’t have as many trusted lieutenants keeping an eye on everything, since Ouroboros wasn’t waging a secret war against him for Nephilim and Homunculi.

It raised a lot of questions about the current state of things.

None of the obvious dangers I was looking for seemed to exist, but that didn’t mean that danger didn’t exist. There were enough common threads around and about, as well as potential conflict, that I couldn’t afford to be lax.

So, I questioned Azazel about his statement regarding the Church’s ineptitude and maliciousness without Heaven watching over them thoroughly… and he frowned as I he realized I was questioning his laissez faire approach to ruling over the Fallen Angels.

He was angry at my accusation, but he swallowed it and gave me a nod.

“I’ll look into it.”

“Good.”

And, for now, that was that.

There was more information to be gained, more things to build, and contacts to be made.

Even if I intended to go back home, I wasn’t going to let this world fall apart.