Chapter 5: The Brewing Storm

Night had settled deep over the mansion, but sleep didn't come easily to Luis. The echoes of Grayfia's words still lingered in his mind. He had rejected Sirzechs's offer, and in doing so, had chosen a path filled with uncertainty. But Luis wasn't one to second-guess himself. His decision had been final.

Still, as he lay there in the dark, his body tense and his mind racing, he couldn't shake the feeling that the storm Grayfia had warned him about was already gathering strength. He wasn't afraid of what was coming—he never was—but the idea of being constantly hunted was… bothersome.

Luis's crimson eyes opened, glowing faintly in the dark.

Let them come.

He would crush every single one of them.

Suddenly, his senses flared, a sharp tug in his mind that set his instincts ablaze. Someone—or something—was nearby. He could feel the presence approaching, slowly at first, but steadily closing in on him.

Luis sat up, his muscles tightening as the air around him seemed to grow heavier, darker. The presence wasn't like before. It wasn't a devil. It wasn't human either. It was something… different. Something powerful.

He stood, his movements quick but controlled as he made his way toward the window. The courtyard outside was still, bathed in the pale light of the moon. But Luis could feel it—the weight of a gaze, watching him from somewhere just beyond the shadows.

His pulse quickened, not in fear, but in anticipation. Whoever was lurking in the darkness was no ordinary threat. This was something new.

And Luis had a feeling it was here for him.

Without warning, the air around him rippled, a soft hum that sent a shiver down his spine. A presence materialized in the courtyard below, cloaked in darkness but unmistakably there. A figure slowly stepped forward, their features hidden beneath a hooded cloak. But Luis could feel the energy radiating from them—an aura unlike anything he had encountered before.

He watched, his eyes narrowing. Whoever this was, they weren't here for a friendly chat.

The figure moved with a grace that was almost unnatural, their steps silent as they approached the mansion. Luis's body tensed, his instincts screaming at him to prepare for battle. But he waited, watching, calculating.

Finally, the figure stopped just below his window, their face still obscured by shadows. There was a moment of silence, heavy and charged with tension, before the figure spoke.

"You are Luis, the one who defeated Diodora Astaroth."

The voice was soft but carried an edge of authority, each word dripping with purpose. Luis didn't reply immediately, his mind racing. Whoever this was, they already knew about him. The news of his fight with Diodora had spread faster than he anticipated.

"And who are you?" Luis asked, his voice cold and sharp.

The figure remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating their next words. Then, slowly, they pulled back their hood, revealing a face that was both familiar and foreign at the same time. Silver hair shimmered in the moonlight, and piercing golden eyes met Luis's own crimson gaze.

"My name is Azazel," the man said, his expression unreadable. "Governor of the Grigori."

Luis's eyes widened slightly. Azazel—the leader of the fallen angels. So, it wasn't just devils he had to worry about now. The fallen angels had taken an interest in him as well.

Great.

"What do you want?" Luis asked, his tone flat but edged with impatience.

Azazel smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "To talk. You've caused quite a stir, you know. It's not every day a human—or whatever you are—manages to shake up the balance of power in this world so quickly."

Luis remained silent, his gaze locked on Azazel's. He didn't trust him, not for a second. But he wasn't foolish enough to think this meeting was purely a coincidence. Azazel hadn't come here without reason.

"You're not interested in alliances, are you?" Azazel continued, his tone almost amused. "You turned down Sirzechs's offer. That's bold, considering the situation you're in."

Luis's jaw tightened. "Get to the point, fallen angel. I don't have time for games."

Azazel chuckled softly, but his eyes remained serious. "Very well. You've made enemies. Strong ones. And while I admire your independence, the fact remains that if you keep going down this path, you'll find yourself surrounded. Even your power has limits."

Luis crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving Azazel's. "And what are you offering? Protection, like Sirzechs? I'm not interested in being anyone's pawn."

Azazel shook his head slowly. "I'm not here to offer you protection. I'm here to offer you an alternative. You see, unlike the devils or the angels, we fallen aren't as… rigid in our ways. We don't care about titles or power structures. We care about survival."

Luis raised an eyebrow. "Survival?"

Azazel nodded. "You've disrupted the balance. And that's fine by me. But the devils, the angels—they won't see it that way. You're a threat to their order. But if you align yourself with us, with the Grigori, you won't have to worry about being hunted. We don't care about controlling you. We just want to make sure the world doesn't fall into chaos."

Luis stared at him, his mind racing. The Grigori… they were a faction of outcasts, fallen angels who had rebelled against the heavens. They didn't play by the same rules as the devils or the angels. But could they really offer him what he wanted?

Freedom.

Azazel seemed to sense his hesitation and took a step closer. "Think about it. You can remain free, unbound by anyone's rules. All I ask is that you don't destroy the delicate balance we've worked so hard to maintain. In exchange, you get the peace you're looking for. No more devils knocking at your door. No more threats."

Luis considered his words carefully. It was tempting. The promise of freedom, of being left alone, was exactly what he wanted. But deep down, he knew there would be a price to pay. There always was.

"And what happens if I say no?" Luis asked, his voice low.

Azazel's smile faded slightly. "Then you'll continue on your current path. Alone. And sooner or later, you'll be overwhelmed. I'm not saying you can't fight them off—your power is impressive. But there are forces in this world that even you can't handle by yourself."

The silence between them stretched out, thick with tension. Luis weighed his options carefully. He had already rejected Sirzechs. He didn't want to be part of anyone's grand plan, but…

Azazel's offer wasn't about control. It was about survival. And Luis knew better than anyone that survival often came with hard choices.

"I'll think about it," Luis said finally, his voice unreadable.

Azazel studied him for a moment, then nodded. "That's all I ask. But remember, the storm is already brewing. Don't wait too long to make your decision."

With that, the fallen angel vanished into the night, leaving Luis alone with his thoughts once more.