AGG: NSS: Himejima 4

AGG: NSS: Himejima 4

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Commissioned by Wirdo

Word Count: 2001

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“Good morning, Miyakuro-san.”

“You’re not welcome, and I don’t want you here. If there’s a single bug in my house, I’m throwing you into a volcano. Get it? Yeah? Good.” Sullen-faced, narrowed-eyed, and sloop-shouldered, I didn’t see any of the appeal that had Angela chase after Miyakuro… let alone his childhood friend or Freischutz. Oh, wait. The latter merely wanted to utilize him. “Yeah, you’d think that wouldn’t you. But, no. Walking jailbait actually has a heart, but it’s guided by a magic-centric compass and a bunch of idiots with grudges. Meaning, I’m fucked.”

“Dear, oh dear, you certainly have no courtesy at all, do you.” Of the Preservers, I must say that Li Song is middling in terms of courtesy. Miyakuro is the deepest end at nonexistent. Hyoudou attempts to have it, but he’s guided far too much by his crotch. Santiago and Sitri, meanwhile, are on the upper echelons. However, my interest in older men and slender boys are quite limited. “Have you no shame about looking into a woman’s mind?”

“Augh, message received. Stop bombarding me with pictures I don’t want.” Miyakuro’s Eye of Wisdom dimmed ever so slightly. It must’ve been quite the terrible tool, since everything and anything that wasn’t behind profound protection was laid bare before him. Though, it was certainly kind of him to wordlessly provide passive protections upon all the Preservers. I’m sure that he did such a thing so that he could stand them, more than for their benefit. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. As if you’d enjoy being able to see everything about everyone everywhere, Himejima.

“Well, given my line of work, I’d enjoy quite a few more advantages than I’d normally have. Information gathering is quite the bore, so the convenience of having an Eye of Wisdom would be immense.” Passing the boundary, I escaped the Arcology and entered a separate, pocket dimension. The feat of power and skill was not lost to me, especially as I felt fresh wind upon my face. I look upon a cloudy sky, and a traditional Japanese compound renovated slightly for modern times. It was both quaint and modern, quite the feat for a Norse god reincarnated into a Japanese boy’s body. “You must feel the same about my arm and a leg, don’t you? Can’t you empathize with that, Miyakuro-san? Wouldn’t mobility and another hand be endearing to you as your Eye is to me?”

“Hmph, I see that Azazel still has a pair of balls and the power to back them. Congratulations on lucking out and getting the best possible parent to raise you, mutt.”  A bark of laughter, harsh and nearly reminiscent of a dog’s snarl, left Miyakuro’s lips. The Reincarnation of Odin, mere centimeters from me, suddenly seems less threatening and imposing after his bout of barking laughs. I allowed my guard to lower ever-so-slightly. I didn’t feel any urge whatsoever to lower them completely in the presence of a god, though. Perhaps, if he’d only had the strength from before his death, I’d relax. But, given his most recent display of strength, that wasn’t the case. This was a chief god of a pantheon who’d learned well from his death and now had a human body and psyche. The word [i]dangerous[/i] did not suffice for him. “So, tell me, Nephilim. Are you here to talk with Angela or the Reincarnation of Michael?”

“Angela.” Thankfully, I could readily answer that particular request without any duplicity whatsoever. Being the reincarnation of the greatest of Archangels meant little in terms to the work we did together, so I can safely say that I had no interest in that particular side of Angela. No, the Angela I needed was the very, very capable smuggler and hacker with a black hole for a stomach. To empathize this, I presented my tithe for my audience. “I don’t think the Archangel of Archangels would be very pleased if I offered him this many pizzas in exchange for his time.”

“No, that stick in the mud never would.” A sharkish smile snuck its way upon Miyakuro’s features. I could only wonder how Li managed to interact so well with this frightening man. He managed to overcome the weakness of imposed divinity and death itself in one stroke, had nearly all his magics available to him, and is Odin the Allfather, the most feared of all the gods, even with the Indian pantheon in consideration. Ruthless, pragmatic, and utterly brutal against all threats, going as far as to slaughter other Pantheons that threatened the neutrality of the gods during the Great War, he is the very essence of what Li Song should hate. “But, just as you should learn little girl, death changes people quite thoroughly.”

“…” Of all the gods, Odin is the wildcard. While not the most powerful, he is the most capable. Whether it be dealing with tricksters, guiding heroes, or leading wars, he was spoken of with reverence and fear by warriors who stole and took whatever they could. Some might say the faith of multitudes mattered more than the many, but what of a god whose name left the lips of warriors when they killed their first man, at every victory and defeat, and who held sway over a whole realm from which armies of honored dead continued to fight and war and train to this very day, waiting for one of the only gods of war who holds sway over both the living and the dead. Yet, all I see before me is a young, hobbled man with too sharper tongue than his own features. “I suppose so.”

“Well, at least you can learn. Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Himejima. It’s good that you can believe your eyes instead of the warnings of that old pervert you call a father.” We passed the threshold of his domicile. Tatami mats, wooden construction, and the scent of paper filled the household. He hobbled on his good leg until he was turned to face me. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right. Kitchen’s third door down the hall in the left. And, Angela’s sty of a room is across the kitchen. The Wi-Fi password is I_OWN_YOU. That’s all you get from me. And, if you don’t clean up after yourself, make sure that you can survive a volcano. Get it? Yeah? Good.”

I didn’t get a word in before he teleported away, presumably far, far away.

Nevermind the fact that he’s the Allfather reborn, I didn’t understand how Li Song could befriend such an utter septic razorblade of a human being.

…

“Hello.” Angela Ioseva is a woman of few words. Possibly due to her interest in gathering information rather than giving it away. Briefly, I entertained the notion of Archangel Michael being part of the KGB, but that inspired more terror than humor in my Nephilim mind. The thought of the most rote and strict Archangel, along with all his might and power, subscribing to Soviet Union’s philosophies regarding life was a terrifying one. I would rather have Lucifer return in his prime over such a thing. Anyway, I would’ve gained nothing more than that greeting for my trouble, if not for the tithe I’d brought. “Is that pizza?”

“Yes it is. They’re all for you. Four whole pizzas for a job well done.” Azazel ingrained in my mind that the best way to have loyal subordinates is to be fair, kind, and generous. Cruz was undoubtedly enjoying his weekend stay at a rather magnificent resort, but Angela would appreciate this showing just as much. I did, after all, hand-deliver artisanal pizzas composed of actual cured meats to her room. It was straight from Fallen pastures and farms in the Med.  Some would say I was treating her better than my other subordinate. Angela is amongst that number of individuals. “Five minutes from the oven, but maintained in very, very special containers—

I did not have time to go into details. The scarred smuggler, who held claim over the power and might of Saint Micheal the Archangel, was upon the pizzas in an instant. The handmade discs of baked dough slathered with cheese, sauce, and toppings had only a moment to be whole, and fill the room with the scent of glorious simplicity made in art, before they were each taken apart  Each construct, with differing, classic flavors, were separated from one another. Consumed concisely and mechanically, at speeds that bordered on repulsive. I did not know if I couldn’t speak because I was entranced or horrified by the sight.

The fact of the matter is that my tithe disappeared in the span seven minutes, with Ioseva faintly smiling and patting her stomach afterward.  

“Could not allow to get cold, so I ate it quickly.” Quickly was an understatement, but one does not make as many friends as I do without being able to handle a few absurdities. Seeing a slim, scarred blonde scour discs of dough from the world in a few minutes was fairly low in terms of strangeness. I was actually disappointed by how much I was taken aback by the scene. I ought to have expected nothing less, actually. “Thank you very much. I understand completely that my work is appreciated.”

“If only everyone could say what they mean like you do, Angela.” That would be a monkey’s paw amongst monkey’s paws of a wish. Society will completely and utterly deteriorate if everyone spoke with such bluntness and carelessness. I’m quite sure that Angela wouldn’t be able to stand herself, if she chose to speak to each other. Amongst the Preservers, she keeps company with a Concept with a bevy of wild gods in her head and the Reincarnation of Odin. Outside of the Preservers, she’s friends with the most genteel woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Her keeping herself company would result in a singularity of stoniness. Still, such things would be quite crass to say. “Would you like for some of my own pizza, too? We can chat whilst we eat.”

I took careful measures to ensure that “my” pizza would be one that got better as it got cold. So, Ioseva had no reason to scarf it all down and apologize before parting ways.

“I would. But, you are here on business. I will hear of your business first.” Angela displayed an immense amount of respect and self-discipline with such words, but the image was somewhat ruined by the fact that drool was escaping the corner of her mouth. I could only assume that “my” final pizza was very, very delicious and was merely going to become more so the longer I talked. Though I spoke only due to the generosity of ambient temperature’s interaction with a specific foodstuff, I was more than willing to take such an opportunity without hesitation. “Please, talk about business. For as long as possible. Keep all of my attention on you, please.”

Thus, I was able to speak to Angela Ioseva.

Over a cooling pizza, in her room, after she’d already made four others disappear down her gullet. This is after I managed to gain the right to enter after speaking to Miyakuro, the Reincarnation of Odin, whom I feared the most amongst the Preservers.

After all of that, I could finally act.

Somewhere, surely, I knew that my father was laughing himself silly at that mere thought  of my current circumstances.

But, the caveat of my meeting was that I saw Angela Ioseva as Angela Ioseva.

Not as the Reincarnation of Michael the Archangel.

I was quite miffed and annoyed, rather than overjoyed and giggling, therefore I was permitted entry.

Truly, I lived in a strange, strange world to be able to handle this situation with any semblance of tact and ability.

However, what else could I do besides learn, adapt, and conquer.

How else could I manage to procure points by acquiring Tuzi artifacts scattered all over Asia, besides speaking to Angela Ioseva and currying favor with her?