Chapter 11
Replacement

Sweat ran down the little blue-haired boy’s face. The strange man before him looked like a devil, like something born of nightmares. Then, at last, the man spoke again.

“So, this is how it’s going to go. That little fool you gave yourself to? He got me killed.” His grin widened, disturbingly calm. “I’m not letting that slide. I’ll take your place… in a few days.”

The boy’s eyes widened, trembling. “W-W-What? No, I can’t! This is my place!”

He opened his palm and summoned a bubble. Azael’s face twisted, amused but wary.

“Oh? Gonna fight me now?” Azael sneered. “Well… you’ll fall at the hands of me, Azael.”

The bubble shot toward him, fast and silent. Azael raised his hand, and from holes torn into his forearm, thick bloody veins slithered into his palm. More holes opened across his hand.

The veins tangled and twisted, forming a long, jagged red katana. With a single brutal slash, Azael cleaved the bubble in two. Blood splattered.

The boy’s eyes widened in fear. Sweat poured down his face as he spread his arms. A hundred bubbles formed around the room, each spinning violently in a chaotic frenzy. He dropped his arms. The bubbles froze in place for a second, then dropped like rain, deadly and fast.

Azael just smiled, teeth and blood everywhere. The bubbles fell closer, then began popping one after another, each one bursting as they neared him. Azael’s body was riddled with holes, and from each of them, his veins lashed outward, slicing through the falling spheres before they could even touch him.

The boy gritted his teeth. Hardened bubbles formed around his limbs as he dropped into a stance and lunged. Azael raised an eyebrow at the sudden charge and caught the first punch. But the boy pivoted, his lead foot twisting, elbow covered in bubble armor whistling toward Azael’s jaw.

Azael stepped back, narrowly dodging the blow, and countered with a brutal kick to the boy’s stomach. The impact launched him across the room, blood trailing from his mouth.

Still trembling, the boy staggered back to his feet and into another stance. Azael’s laughter echoed around the chamber.

The floor was soaked in blood. But most of it wasn’t the boy’s, it was Azael’s. The man was bleeding heavily, his grotesque veins thrashing like they were alive.

In response, the boy summoned more bubbles, this time creating two towering knights made of hardened spheres. Each carried a greatsword and massive shield.

They charged.

Azael watched, mildly intrigued. “This should be fun.”

He stepped into a defensive stance.

The first knight came from the left. Azael deflected the strike.

The second lunged from the center. Azael parried, then struck at the knight’s side, but his blade bounced off its shield. His face fell flat with boredom.

“I’m bored, man.”

The veins from his body writhed.

A moment later, the knights were gone, sliced in half, dissolved, popped.

The boy recoiled, throwing up a layered shield of bubbles between himself and Azael. But Azael was already preparing the next move. Veins snaked from the holes in his palms, twisting into a glowing red diamond.

He launched it.

The diamond tore through each bubble effortlessly, one after the other. But instead of the sound of pain, there was only a single, soft pop, and a hole in the wall.

Azael grinned wider.

Then he turned, wind had shifted behind him.

The boy was there, teleporting into position. He struck. A bubble-encased fist landed clean against Azael’s face. But when the boy followed up with a kick, Azael caught his leg.

Blood poured from the boy’s nose. His eyes were starting to bleed too.

Azael’s grip tightened, crushing the boy’s foot.

The boy cried out.

Behind Azael, a shadow moved. Another bubble knight struck, but Azael turned just in time, catching the knight by the head. With one hand, he crushed its skull. The knight popped.

The boy, desperate, threw a flying kick at Azael’s head. But Azael blocked it easily and launched him across the room.

Before the boy could even hit the ground, Azael had already caught up, grabbing his arm and hurling him over his shoulder.

And then crack. A flurry of blindingly fast movements shattered the boy’s arm, bones snapping out of his skin.

Slamming him down, the boy lay in a mangled heap. Tears ran down his face, his foot crushed and ruined, his arm broken and bent in three different directions.

Azael loomed over him like death itself.

Grabbing a fistful of the boy’s hair, he lowered his head next to the boy’s ear.

“I told you—I’m taking your place. If that fool’s body could hold two gods… maybe things would be different.”

Azael closed his eyes.

“Your connection will be lost. Slowly.”

Time passed.

Azael now sat alone in the room, lounging on a floating bubble like it was a throne. He sighed.

The boy still lay in the corner, recovering.

“It’s been a couple days. You’re still not up yet? Weakling.”

The boy didn’t respond.

Azael raised his hand lazily, and a screen formed in the air, a vision of the mortal world, from Shiro’s perspective. The boy was sprinting around a training field, doing lap after lap.

At least he’s not wasting time, Azael thought.

Then a girl came into view, long golden hair, shining white eyes like twin moons. Her smile was bright, gentle, genuine.

Azael tilted his head. “Oho? She’s cute. Please tell me this is his girlfriend.”

The boy, still lying broken in the corner, stared at the screen, tears dripping down his face.

“No.”

Azael frowned.

“Damn. Disappointing.”

Then he blinked, watching Shiro some more.

“What’s this dude’s name again?”

The boy whispered bitterly, “…Shiro.”