Chapter Text
Church bells resound through Rome, Italy. The sky is a dark, foreboding purple, the crescent moon in its usual state, grinning widely, pupils small, blood dripping from its teeth. This is nothing out of the ordinary.
Illuminated by its glow, a pink-headed witch sporting round glasses and freckles sits on her broomstick, looking down upon the vast city. She wears a hooded jumpsuit and has snake tattoos crawling up her arms.
“Go on, eat. Lots… and lots… Eat lots to become the ultimate evil,” she hisses.
In a dark alley below, a girl winces. Something horrifying forms out of her back, and she screams.
The witch’s plan is coming together.
--
Galo revs his engine as his motorcycle whizzes through the streets of Rome, bustling with street vendors and customers eyeing fresh fruits, vegetables, and meats. His weapon, Lio, has his arms wrapped around his bare midsection, trying to ignore how good it feels to grip his meister’s abs. Galo wears a trenchcoat with no shirt underneath, an interesting fashion combination, if nothing else. The wind whips through his fluffy hair, making it even messier than it was before.
“Italy is so cool!” Galo says. “Oi, Lio, are you getting hungry? We should get some pizza! This is Italy, after all!” His eyes twinkle and his mouth waters at the thought of having his favorite food, authentically. He eats pizza like every other day, but real, Italian pizza? He’s never had that before!
In response, Lio pinches his neck, which is met with an “Ow!”
“Galo, we have to focus on our extracurricular lesson, we’re not here to vacation.”
“That hurt,” Galo whines. “And I know that. Our target this time is killer Sonson J, right?”
“Just as long as you know,” Lio sighs. He leans forward and rests his head on Galo’s shoulder, closing his eyes. The pair of them are fairly affectionate with each other under the guise of it being a “meister-weapon” thing, although literally everyone else but them knows that’s bullshit. Lio didn’t sleep well last night, so he almost wants to fall asleep like this, the wind whipping in his face, breathing in Galo’s familiar scent. If only they didn’t have work to do. Fuck school, man.
“Then again, he only comes out at night, yeah?” Galo asks snarkily.
“Either way, sightseeing comes afterward! First, we have to gather more information about the city,” Lio says. Seriously, he loves Galo, but he’s such a pain in the ass sometimes!
“Okay,” Galo grumbles, a big fat frown on his face.
He parks the bike near the steps of one of the many cathedrals in the city and the pair disembarks.
“Information gathering, information gathering…” Lio murmurs to himself as he flanks Galo. Galo’s mind is somewhere else, and in his dejectedness he bumps into a man.
“Hey, hold it, you!” The man says in a thick Italian accent, pulling Galo up by the collar of his jacket, forcing him to make eye contact. The man is probably in his 30’s, sporting a horrible neckbeard, piercings everywhere, a backwards baseball cap, and black eyeliner caked on. Galo scrunches up his face in response to being so close to the man, close enough for some angry spittle to land on his face. Close enough to tell that he hasn’t showered recently.
“Oi! Let me down,” Galo whines. He struggles in the man’s grip.
The man gets even angrier and clutches Galo’s coat harder. “Do you know who you’re messing with when you do that?! Eh?!”
“Sorry man, I can’t understand you, your pronunciation sucks ass, frankly,” Galo tells him, shrugging. He wishes this guy would stop spitting in his face! Does he have any concept of personal space?
Lio sighs, watching things unfold as more men start to gather around them. Fucking hell, this is exactly what they needed this afternoon, Galo getting caught up in a pointless brawl.
“Heh, no problem! If you don’t get it, we’ll just explain it to you!” one man says, cracking his knuckles.
“This town is controlled by the Materazzi! Don’t you forget it!” the neckbeard man spits, throwing up a gang sign.
“Eh, that’s nice and all, but frankly, I don’t really care! You don’t scare me. I could easily take you,” Galo says proudly. He crosses his arms and stares down the offender, ready to pick a fight, if need be. Who the hell do they think he is? He’s one of the top one-star meisters at Promepolis Academy and known widely for his athleticism and talent! These guys should be scared of him!
“Galo, let’s hurry up and go gather some information,” Lio sounds exasperated, pushing his way through the mob.
“Yeah, all right.” Galo releases himself from the man’s grip fairly easily now.
“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?!” Neckbeard Man yells, grabbing Galo by the back of his collar and yanking him.
“Hah?” Galo chokes out.
“You think you can cross the Materazzi and get away with it?!”
“We’ll teach you to talk to us like that!” another man adds. They all look at Galo like he’s an easy target, smiles widespread and eyes menacing.
“Let him have it,” someone sneers.
Galo sighs at this. Man, what a bother. He just wants to get on with his lesson. But if these guys want a piece of him, he may as well give it to them. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Galo throws some punches, reducing them to a big, pained heap in what seems like hardly a few seconds. He quickens his pace a little to catch up with Lio, who is completely unfazed by it all.
“I wonder who we could ask,” he murmurs.
“Good question. Let’s try that pizza shop on the corner!” Galo’s mouth begins to water again.
Lio sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Come on, Galo; do you ever think about anything that isn’t pizza?”
--
The church bell tolls.
It’s another night and the witch once again sits on her moonlit perch. “Go on, eat. You are the form of the ultimate weapon and meister,” she says. She is using a telepathic connection to talk to the girl who currently serves as her puppet.
Not far below, the girl huddles in Santo Mario Novella Bascilia, the unofficial hideout of the Materazzi gang. She has caramel skin and light pink hair that is big, poofy and unkempt. Her tattered black dress hangs off her tiny frame as she trembles in fear.
“Hey, what do you want?” a gang member questions her, as she is positioned in the middle of the church, men all around her, staring at her, sizing her up. Surely this little girl couldn’t take on all of them?
“Eat lots of souls,” the woman’s voice echoes in her mind.
“I can’t, H-Heris,” the girl murmurs, her voice wavering. “I’m not up to it yet.”
Her big, black sword gleams in the dim light of the church. One of the men’s angry faces is reflected in it. “What’s your deal?” he growls.
“They’re not even close to Kishins,” she says. Do these people really deserve to die? she wonders to herself. She already knows the answer. But she can’t tell Heris that. Heris will get mad.
The girl’s refutation is futile, though; she knows this by now. But it doesn’t stop her from trying.
The men ignore her confusing words and continue interrogating her. They’re getting restless now, huddling closer around her, cracking their knuckles and casting threatening glares.
“I asked you what your deal was!” a man yells.
“Who are you talking to?!” another one adds.
“Don’t be difficult, my dear,” Heris sighs, knowing what this has come to. This isn’t her first rodeo — no, far from it. What she’s going to do next isn’t anything out of the ordinary for her.
“Nake Snake… Cobra Cob-bra…” She chants, black magic in the form of a snake spewing from her mouth.
“It’s all right, have faith in yourself,” she continues as her magic circles the church. “Thyma, you will be a Kishin.”
The magic completes its descent, disappearing into the back of Thyma’s head. All is dead silent for a second as the crowd stares. Then, suddenly, she starts laughing, as if someone just said something absolutely hysterical.
“I am a Kishin!” she says.
“Don’t think you can come into our castle and just walk out again, filthy brat!” someone growls, walking closer to her and giving her a shove.
“This is a public place,” she responds, a newfound air of confidence about her. “There isn’t any place that has been given to you. Which is why Ragnarok will eat you. Right, Ragnarok?” She grins, looking to her blade for confirmation, holding it up.
In that moment, a terrifying mouth appears on her sword and screams.
Overcome by the deafening sound, the men cover their ears and yell expletives. “What the fuck is that sword?!”
Thyma smirks. “Listen, everyone. Has anything amusing happened?” Her eyes move about the room wildly. “The doors here open inward.” She’s making very little sense at this point, overcome by a manic state.
Still standing, she leans back in some semblance of a backbend. “Yesterday sure was fun. What was it that happened? I can’t remember. What’s more, my blood is black.”
The screaming continues. The witch smirks. Blood seeps from the moon’s mouth.
All is as it should be.
--
Galo’s boots thump on a roof as he runs towards his target.
“Finally found you!”
Before him is the man they were sent here for, wearing a brown paper bag with circles cut out for his eyes, hunched over with a knife in hand.
“Sonson J, homicidal maniac of Emerald Lake. I’ll extinguish you with my burning soul!” Galo yells, in his typical Galo fashion.
Finally, they’re exactly where they should be. This is the part that fills Lio with adrenaline. He lives for the feeling of Galo’s calloused hands gripping his hilt, tight enough for Lio to feel the excited thrum of his pulse. If Lio closes his eyes, he can pretend that this is all there is in the world, just him and Galo, their souls tangled together, in perfect sync.
Galo jumps and runs towards the killer, clutching the katana. Sonson, in turn, lifts his blade and runs towards them as well.
In one decisive slash, Sonson is killed, turns into black matter, then a red orb. His soul.
As Galo lands, Lio transforms back into a human. They’ve done this song and dance many times before, so he goes ahead and grabs the soul eagerly.
“That’s our quota for our extracurricular lesson, right?” Galo asks.
“Yes,” Lio confirms. He lifts the soul and takes the whole thing into his mouth, his fangs flashing in the moonlight. He chews a bit, swallows, and just like that, the deed is done, and they have completed their lesson. He belches loudly and brings his hand to his mouth, his cheeks dusting pink. Too late, because Galo’s already chuckling at him.
Galo studies him a little, seemingly lost in thought. “Hey, Lio, do souls taste good?”
Lio nods. “They don’t really have any flavor, but the texture and the way they feel going down can’t be beat.” Getting used to eating souls was probably the hardest part of enlisting at the academy, but since it meant getting stronger, he’d adapted rather quickly. Galo prides himself a lot on their strength, so seeing him happy gives Lio an extra incentive.
“Hmm! I wonder if Aina and Lucia are having any luck collecting souls,” Galo muses.
“They’re perpetual no-soul remedial-lesson fanatics, so I doubt it.”
“Poor Aina,” Galo sighs, sympathizing with his best friend. Lucia is known for being unhinged, so he imagines she’s a hard weapon to work with. As for Lio, he isn’t really scared of anyone, but he is scared of Lucia.
“So, then, should we head home?” Lio turns, yawning, ready to go fetch the motorcycle and finally get some rest after today’s excitement.
“Wait, Lio—” Galo starts. Lio looks at his meister expectantly.
Galo narrows his eyes, then turns to look at a church a few blocks away.
“That building… I’m sensing so many wound-up souls.”
Galo has the ability of Soul Perception, which allows him to sense nearby souls along with their danger levels. He wasn’t even using it consciously, but it’s coming in full-force now, like alarm bells ringing in his brain. He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate and get a better idea of the situation.
“I’m reading the souls of a weapon and meister,” he says. “And 50 or 60 human souls surrounding them.”
“You can sense all that?” Lio asks.
“Yeah,” Galo says, quietly. Lio was expecting something a little more cocky, “Of course I can! I’m the world’s number one meister!” so when he doesn’t hear it, his brows knit together in worry, knowing that what Galo is sensing seems serious.
“I think it might be those Materazzi punks from earlier. We have to go save them!”
Lio blinks. These are the same people that antagonized Galo not much more than a few hours ago, yet Galo is still willing to go out of his way to save them. This is just one of the many reasons he admires his partner. Always willing to help people out, even those who hurt him.
“Okay, let’s go.”
--
Galo is uncharacteristically quiet on the ride over.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” he finally says when they pull in front of the cathedral. The church bell tolls, giving off a foreboding aura. Lio, unable to come up with anything reassuring to say, squeezes Galo a little tighter before dismounting his motorcycle. They’d faced a lot of scary things together; they can face whatever this is, too.
“Oh fuck,” Galo gasps, moving closer to the church. “What the hell?”
“W-what is it?” Lio panics a bit.
Galo’s gaze doesn’t move from the church.
The bell stops.
Galo holds his breath.
Silence.
“They’re all gone,” he murmurs. “The 50 or 60 souls all disappeared in one moment. Leaving just the meister and the weapon.” He clenches his fists.
“Shit.”
Galo takes a few steps closer and places his hand upon the door. Whoever they’re about to face really isn’t fucking around; that much is clear.
I get the feeling that I shouldn’t open this door, he thinks. But I have to see.
“Are you sure about this, Galo?” Lio asks from behind.
Galo nods, his mouth set in determination. “Yeah. As students of Promepolis Academy, we have to see who did this.”
“Okay.” Lio is uncertain, but he trusts his meister more than anyone, and this situation is no different.
Lio can instinctively tell when Galo’s nervous. He steps up next to him and takes both of his hands in his own and presses their foreheads together gently, closing his eyes, and taking a second to breathe deeply. This is a ritual for them sometimes. It’s not necessary for Soul Resonance, but it helps calm both of them down before a fight. Lio goes ahead and changes into his katana form.
The way Galo clutches his hilt a little too tightly, breathes a little too quickly is not lost on him.
Galo gives just the slightest push and the twin doors swing open, a mysterious gush of wind from inside flapping his trench coat with it.
A girl stands at the end of the hall, near the altar, her back towards the doors. Her fluffy pink hair and her dress flow in tandem with the wind from outside. One of her arms is gripping the other, as if she’s nervous, strangely enough for someone who just wiped out at least 50 souls at once.
“You see? These doors only open inwards,” She says, now turning to face the pair.
“She’s all alone. What happened to her partner?” Lio whispers.
“Lady Heris, two others have arrived,” a voice from seemingly nowhere says.
“Keep it down. Ragnarok, you be quiet,” she chastises.
“The souls I’m reading are of a meister and a weapon, and both of them are directly in front of us. In other words, there’s a weapon inside her body,” Galo says.
The girl’s forest-green eyes widen. Bingo.
--
“Ugh, I fucked up,” Gueira says, both hands in his mop of red hair. He’s sweating bullets. And talking to himself.
“To think Galo would be on an extracurricular lesson… In order to see him, I have to come to the academy. But there is one giant obstacle here for me at this school…”
“Meis…" he grumbles, his voice full of fear. “All I want to do is see my son, but Meis is such a pain in the ass!”
“But your papa… your papa is not gonna back down!” His eyes are fiery now. “Once I get past this barrier, your papa’s love is going to grow infinitely within you, Galo!”
Meis walks in without a knock. Gueira had been sitting in the infirmary, where Meis just started working last week. Gueira puts two and two together when he sees Meis’ lab coat, and realizes the folly of his actions.
“The hell you doing in here?” Meis asks.
“Ack…! You know, just the usual,” Gueira’s voice wavers a bit. He twiddles his thumbs, staring down the person he fears most, the bane of his sad existence.
Needless to say, Meis does not know.
“Just as well. I was looking for you, anyway,” Meis pushes the bridge of his glasses up, the light reflecting off of them.
“REALLY?!” Gueira can’t help but exclaim in shock, then corrects himself, softly, “Uh, I mean, why’s that? You’re not going to perform more experiments on me, are you?” Gueira throws him a fiery glare, barely masking his fear.
“Nah, but I did swap your left and right middle toes.”
Gueira screams, chucking his shoes off and inspecting his feet.
Meis snorts. “Just kidding.” He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, even though he’s not supposed to be smoking in here. Authority doesn’t scare him. Very little scares Meis.
“Galo sure has grown up,” he says, exhaling the smoke languidly. He talks with his hands, using the cigarette he’s holding to accentuate his points. “You know, I was positive your marriage was gonna fail. But seeing you all snuggled up with him reassured me. What a happy couple. I’m glad to see you doing well, Gueira.”
Gueira is avoiding eye contact like the plague. Just kill me now, he thinks.
“Actually,” Gueira, after a long silence, finally gets the balls to say. “You may not be aware, but we got divorced last month.”
“Oh, I know,” Meis snorts again, taking another drag.
Gueira punches his arm, but Meis doesn’t react. “YOU ASS! Stop picking on me!”
“Even so, I’m glad you dated someone who made you happier than I did.” Meis sounds a bit sad at this, contradicting his own words.
Gueira is quiet, studying him for a moment.
“Oh, by the way,” Meis, for some reason, seems to remember the reason he sought Gueira out in the first place. “The Demon Sword showed up.” Gueira’s eyes widen.
“What?”
--
“What do you mean, Galo? There’s a weapon inside that girl?” Lio asks, his voice reverberating a bit from within his blade. His reflection within the sword shows his brows scrunched up in confusion. They’ve never encountered something like this before.
“Yeah. Get ready, she’s coming.”
Suddenly, the girl’s face contorts and she hunches over, clutching her head. She makes pained noises, which increase in volume, finally building up into a scream.
Galo holds his breath, his grip on the katana tightening.
A tall, shadowy figure emerges from her back. Slowly, it takes the form of a large, muscular man, but with X’s where his eyes and nose should be. To put it lightly, he looks terrifying.
He makes unintelligible noises, then gives his meister light punches on the head, to which she grumbles. “Thyma, I want to eat sooooouls,” he whines. He continues to pinch her nose and poke her as they swap verbal attacks.
Galo sighs, ignoring their bickering. “You know that hunting human souls is forbidden! Are you students at Promepolis?”
“Promepolis? What’s that? She said it was okay to eat them. What’s wrong with that?” Thyma says. She sounds genuinely confused.
“A lot!” Galo grunts. What the fuck is this girl’s deal? Who was she talking about?
Thyma blushes and looks at the ground, suddenly bashful. “I’m not very good when it comes to talking to boys.”
“Never mind that, his soul looks tasty,” the shadowy figure from Thyma’s back adds.
“Meisters and weapons are forbidden from hunting the souls of humans, for any reason whatsoever.” Galo lifts his sword and assumes an offensive stance. “As a student of the academy, I cannot condone this!”
“Let’s do this, Thyma,” the figure says with a poke to her head. He disappears into a dark, purplish cloud not far above her. She reaches into the cloud to grab the hilt of a sword, and the rest of the shadows come together to form a blade.
Without warning, Thyma rushes forward. “She’s coming from below!” Lio warns, and Galo blocks the attack. The clank of metal-on-metal resounds through the empty church.
Galo growls at the underhanded attempt and punches her in the face. Thyma is taken aback, giving Galo time to pin her down, holding his blade to her throat.
“You can’t cut me with a stroke like that,” she says simply, seeming unaffected. Thick, tar-like blood begins to seep from her throat. “I have black blood, you know.”
This alarms Galo, and he leaps backwards.
“What’s up with her body?” Lio asks.
“I think her blood is her weapon,” Galo says. “That’s why I was able to cut through the skin, but her blood hardened and stopped the blade at her blood vessels.”
Lio growls. “Then how the hell do we damage her?”
“I don’t know. The odds are stacked against us just swinging at her, and I don’t know if Inferno would even work. If only I could shoot soul wavelength attacks like Aina, I could actually do some internal damage.” Galo sighs. Damn his luck, of course Aina wouldn’t be on a mission when they actually need her.
“Tsk tsk,” Heris says to Thyma telepathically. “Why are you holding back on them?”
“W-well, I don’t really know how to act around b-boys,” she stutters. Her face reddens, and she buries it in her hands.
“Silly girl. You should kill them.”
“Oh, I can kill them, can I?” Thyma’s disposition does a full 180, and she suddenly gets a crazed look in her eyes. “I didn’t realize that.”
“Who are you talking to?!” Galo yells.
Thyma disregards him. “Ragnarok…” Thyma lifts her sword and positions it in front of her face. ”Scream Resonance.”
“Goobee," a mouth on the sword says playfully, and emits an ear splitting screech. Galo and Lio wince.
A purplish attack is fired at the two of them. Galo blocks, and Lio grunts in pain as the attack hits his blade. Thyma jumps and swings her sword down at them, and Galo narrowly dodges.
“GALO, HE’S COMING! GUARD!” Lio yells.
Thyma’s sword hits Galo’s, hard. The pressure from the sword combined with its continued screaming cuts into the katana, and blood gushes from the wound.
“LIO!” Galo yells. He manages to kick Thyma out of the way. “YOU BITCH!”
“You okay, Lio?” Galo tries to catch his breath, his eyebrows pulled together in concern.
Blood is still dripping and Lio’s reflection in the blade looks worse for wear. “Don’t worry about that. I’m prepared to die for my meister!”
Lio’s selflessness makes Galo want to break down and cry. He’d really rather be anywhere than here right now. He’d rather be curled up on the couch of their shared apartment, watching some shitty romcom Lio picked out, both of them safe and alive. He’d rather hug Lio tight and tell him how glad he is to have him as a weapon, because he means so much to him, and situations like this make him never want to take him for granted again.
Yet. Here they are, fighting for their lives, when they could have just avoided this place. When it was Galo’s idea to come here. By all means, Thyma needs to be stopped. It’s the right thing to do. But still, Galo can’t help but be flooded by a wave of guilt. He’s not religious, but he’s really scared, so he prays to whatever god is up there that the two of them make it out of this alive.
I’ll protect you, Lio, he thinks, even though he’s not sure he even can deliver on that promise.
While there is still some distance between him and Thyma, he tries to think of how the hell he’s going to get himself out of this one. He can’t guard, nor can he do any damage.
Swinging her blade around, Thyma lunges at them, and Galo dodges, knocking her to the ground with a swing.
There’s sweat pooling on his forehead as he stares down his opponent.
I fucked up.
Thyma rushes forward again, jabbing at Galo several times. He swiftly dodges each one, but is pushed back towards the wall in the process.
“Galo!” Lio yells. “The hell are you doing?! You need to guard!”
But he can’t. He knows what will happen if he does. There’s no way he’s letting Lio die. Galo would rather die himself before he resorted to that.
And yet. He’s exhausted all his options. The only solution left is to run away.
Galo’s back slams against the doors. “Oh! The exit!” He slams against it again a few times, but the doors won’t budge. “The fuck?”
Thyma lifts her blade high. “That’s no good, is it? You’d better pay attention next time. These doors only open inward, remember?”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Galo’s eyes widen as he realizes the situation he’s fucked himself into. Tears well up in his eyes.
Thyma begins to swing.
“GALO, GUARD!” Lio yells.
“I CAN’T!”
The sword makes contact.
Before Galo can react, Lio transforms back into his human form, arms outstretched, shielding Galo. Time seems to crawl to a standstill. He sees the sword slice the whole length of Lio’s torso, sees the blood spurt, feels the tears roll down his face.
The air is thick with the stench of blood. It nearly chokes Galo. He can hardly breathe. He can hardly think. He wonders if his heart is even still beating.
He finally reacts just in time to catch Lio before he hits the ground.
“LIOOOOOOO!” he screams.