Fragile.
That was the first word that came to Ereshkigal's mind when describing humans. As the goddess of death, the mistress of the underworld, if anyone had the authority to speak on human fragility, it was her. Maybe Nergal too, but he was a lost cause.
Personally, she always found human fragility a kind of irony. They died. Always died. But for each one that left life, three more burst into the world of the living, screaming, ready to repeat the same pathetic cycle: birth, life, death. An emotional recycling system, like an eternal planting cycle. Except, instead of corn, what grew was suffering.
Overseeing this process was her job. For thousands, maybe tens of thousands of years. Souls arrived, wept, complained, begged, and she… did what was necessary. No exceptions.
No mortal escaped.
Well… until *he* showed up.
"And… let's save Uruk together!"
Seriously. He said that.
With a smile on his face.
In the middle of the underworld.
Ereshkigal stared at that boy as if he'd suggested turning Kur into an amusement park. He had to be insane. Possibly the most unhinged mortal to step foot on that cursed ground, and she'd seen it all. Even poets. But he was alive. *Alive*. Heart beating, blood pulsing, and that inconvenient spark in his eyes.
Over the millennia, yes, some living beings had invaded her domain. They all fell. Every single one. She welcomed them as she did any unwanted guest: with lethal hospitality. But this one? This one had the audacity to ask for her light, the light of a death goddess, to save a city that, deep down, belonged to her. After all, all those humans would die eventually. They were hers by right.
So she did what any sensible goddess would: she attacked.
But Ryougi Kazuya… didn't back down.
There he was. A mortal surrounded by shadows, in the depths of the underworld, facing a millennial goddess like it was an RPG. And it wasn't just him. The Servants by his side fought with fervor. They threw everything at her. Magic, lightning, inspiring shouts. They seemed to believe they could defeat her.
Ereshkigal almost laughed.
Weapons don't harm gods so easily.
But words… words hurt.
As if he were judging her for thousands of years of isolation. As if she'd chosen it.
"Your so-called 'first choice'... what a joke! You stayed down here, forgotten, and now you take it out on others like it's their fault!"
His words exploded like grenades in her chest. She felt anger. Then shame. Then a strange emptiness. Like a flame slowly fading, even when you blow to rekindle it.
Ereshkigal tried to convince herself she still hated that mortal. That she wanted to see him crawl. But… then came the final blow: he used a Command Seal. Not to win. Not to kill.
But to protect her dignity.
Who does that?!
Who looks at a death goddess and says, "You deserve respect"?
Only a complete lunatic.
Ereshkigal knew, in that moment, she'd lost. Not to an army, not to spells, not to time. But to that human smile. To that stubborn compassion. To that light that insisted on illuminating even the darkest corners of Kur.
She never stood a chance.
But, even defeated, she got to see him.
Face to face.
And deep down, though she'd never admit it, she hoped that wouldn't be their last meeting.
---
Ereshkigal smiled at the memory, one of those small smiles that bloomed more in her eyes than her lips, as the silence still enveloped them in that improbable peace.
That was the first time she truly saw him.
Her first time, not the secret glimpses through Ishtar's body, when she watched from the windows of the living world, pretending she wasn't curious. No. That was the real first time.
In that moment, she didn't understand. How could she? He was everything she feared and everything she never expected: life, light, stubbornness… warmth.
She should have felt anger.
But she felt something else. Something that grew quietly, like flowers in a forgotten field. Something she hid under layers of denial, masks, and divine reluctance.
And now, here, in the middle of that ridiculously narrow bed for three racing hearts, she recalled that first look. She tried not to think about when their journey ended, when she thought she'd never see him again, but now she was by his side, summoned again—though she wished it hadn't come with her sister.
Speaking of Ishtar, she was oddly quiet. Well, the Lady of Heaven had a lot on her mind.
---
Ishtar had lost count of how many mortals she'd seen pass through the world. So many, more than she bothered to tally. Most were forgettable: fleeting, noisy creatures desperate for divine attention. But a few… a few left a mark. A spark. A fire ignited in the midst of her tedious eternity.
Kazuya was one of those. No, he was *the* one.
He'd climbed to the top of her list with an ease that would've made countless dead heroes roll in their graves. Ishtar knew it. And she reveled in the thought.
She, the Lady of Heaven, had seen it all. Lived among kings, warriors, priests, poets… and still, she'd never met anyone who had the same effect as that mortal with rebellious hair and determined eyes. Kazuya made her heart race, an insignificant detail for a god, except when it shouldn't happen.
He kindled a fire within her. A fire that claimed her body like a living memory that she was still there, alive, present, and—though she'd never admit it aloud—enchanted. Likewise, she noticed something curious about him: his steps grew lighter when they were together, as if the world weighed less with her around.
She was one of those people for him. And that… genuinely made her happy.
Of course, her sister was too. And just remembering that, Ishtar wrinkled her nose with unsubtle annoyance.
But it was in that conversation, that night marked by desperation and tension before Tiamat's threat, that everything changed. That everything was sealed.
"So? Spill it! You agree with him, don't you? I'm a useless goddess, aren't I?" she exploded, full of celestial drama. It was the kind of thing gods did when on the verge of an existential crisis. Justified, too. Without the Bull of Heaven, their chances of victory were practically nil. She knew it. Ritsuka knew it. Everyone knew it.
Yet he looked at her with a calm smile and placed a hand on her shoulder, a firm yet gentle touch that said, "Hey, don't fall apart now."
"As long as you're still willing to fight, I won't call you useless. Ishtar, you still want to fight with us, don't you?"
She stared, stunned. No lies, no judgment. Just faith. It was absurd. Incredibly foolish. Maybe suicidal. But… also real.
"Stay here and fight? Against the mother goddess of Sumerian myth? You expect me to stay and fight?"
"Well," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing, "you're a war goddess, aren't you?"
The response should've infuriated her. But his smile, that serene confidence amid chaos, was enough to make her heart stumble. And then, as if that weren't enough, he added:
"Not to mention, you're gonna stand there while Gilgamesh tries to prove you're useless? Last I checked, you've got a bow that can fire Venus like an arrow. It might not defeat Tiamat, but it'll sure leave a mark."
Ishtar remembered the exact feeling from that moment. An unexpected warmth. An absurd clarity. For the first time in ages, she felt… strong. Present. Important. And she replied, voice wavering but resolute:
"I-If I have to… I'll do more than leave a mark. I'm a war goddess, so don't underestimate me, Ryougi Kazuya!"
She wanted to stop there. But she couldn't.
"I expect you to do your best too. But you better not die, okay? A lot of people are counting on you."
His laugh echoed in her mind ever since. That light, radiant laugh. Like a sun piercing the black clouds shrouding her soul.
From then on, she couldn't forget him.
And maybe, just maybe… she didn't want to.
---
While the two goddesses sat in silence, Kazuya let out a sigh. Not the dramatic "oh, what a cruel life" kind, but a short, resigned puff, like someone accepting the fate of sharing a bed with two goddesses whose egos outshone celestial dragons. He barely moved, wary of sparking another sisterly spat or, worse, being crushed between two divine presences in competitive mode.
"Hm…" he mumbled, eyes half-closed. "I should've summoned Arash. He only explodes once…"
Ishtar, of course, didn't let it slide.
"What did you say, idiot?!" She lifted herself half an inch, just enough for her hair to slide down his back like a cloak of sunlight.
"Nothing, nothing…" Kazuya replied quickly, raising a hand in a pacifying gesture. "Just thinking out loud. Nothing a love goddess like you can't forgive, right?"
Her response was one of those crooked smiles that said, "I forgive you, but only because I want to, not because you deserve it." Pure Ishtar: explosive, vain… and dangerously enchanting.
"Hmph. Lucky for you, that face of yours is cute." She lay back down, this time with purpose. Her head rested on his chest with the ease of someone who ruled Venus and now ruled a very confused mortal's heart.
On the other side, Ereshkigal shot an accusatory glance, as if to say, "Again with this?" but stayed silent. Her silence had more layers than underworld bureaucracy, yet Kazuya understood.
Ishtar shifted, clearly uncomfortable—not physically, but the discomfort of a goddess used to knowing everything, suddenly grappling with questions even the heavens couldn't answer. In truth, she sensed her Master's unease and wanted to shift to a topic less delicate; he'd died, she'd missed him, and all the rest…
She felt it wasn't the time for that. Her Master found it all a bit unnatural; she couldn't blame him. Being reborn and suddenly having people from his past life reappear in a world where he'd lived differently for seventeen years was intense. So, though she ached to ease her longing, she decided to wait for him to process it all.
She didn't need to say it aloud to her sister. Ereshkigal was always better at reading their Master's emotions, though Ishtar would never admit it.
With that in mind, she made a throat-clearing sound.
"But leaving that aside. This world…" she murmured, with a rare serious, focused look. "There's something wrong with it."
Kazuya opened one eye, surprised by her tone.
"Wrong like… 'the coffee here's weak' or 'reality's collapsing'?"
She ignored the jab. Ishtar propped herself up on her elbow, her black hair spilling like a nighttime waterfall.
"When you summoned me…" she continued, "something was off. I felt it. Eresh and I were pulled together, and it wasn't like a Holy Grail War or Chaldea. But the weirdest part…"
She frowned. Kazuya sat up, sensing this went beyond divine inconvenience.
"It was the knowledge."
He raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Ishtar looked at him, her playful gaze giving way to a sharper edge. She now seemed less a love goddess and more a war strategist.
"When we're summoned, we usually get an automatic download of the era's basics. A gift from the Grail, you know?" She twirled her finger, as if drawing an invisible spiral. "But here… it was distorted. I got fragmented data. Something about angels, demons, factions, schools. A world where the supernatural's secret but present. Where heaven and hell make treaties, and humans can wield strange powers. I also learned how you summoned us—a gift from your life as Chaldea's Master? I don't fully get it, but it seems you have some access to the Throne to call us and enough energy to sustain us without issue, like we're back in Chaldea."
Kazuya kept a Saitama-level poker face. He didn't want to talk about his unique skill. As for sustaining them with his magical energy? He didn't even feel his reserves being tapped to keep the two Servants in this world. Infinite magical energy for the win.
Ereshkigal nodded, aware her sister was avoiding sensitive topics beyond what had already been touched, and she didn't want to trouble her beloved Master further. She'd wait for him to return to normal on his own. With that in mind, she added, "Yes, I had the same experience during my summoning. Can you tell us what's going on, Master…?"
Kazuya let out a long sigh. Not the resigned kind from before, but one that said, "Okay, time for the truth."
He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.
"First, I want you to understand we're in a completely different world from yours. I'm sure you've noticed…"
Ishtar rolled her eyes, puffing out her chest with her usual "I already knew" air. "Of course I noticed! The sky here's way more… saturated. Something in the air's different. More magical, maybe?"
Ereshkigal, more thoughtful, touched her chin. "I felt it too… like the energy here's alive. It's oddly comforting. Almost like… Uruk in its golden age…"
Kazuya nodded. "That's because this world's different at its core. Magical energy saturates everything, even the air. An amount of magic only seen in the Age of Gods—well, on a much smaller scale, since this world's infinitely inferior to your original one, but you could call it that, considering gods walk among men here."
Ishtar's eyes widened, surprised. "Wait… you're saying this world's still stuck in that era?"
"Exactly. But let's take it step by step. First, you need to understand multiverse theory."
"Multiverse is a term for the hypothetical set of possible universes, including yours. In short, infinite worlds, each with its own systems, laws, and histories."
Ereshkigal frowned slightly, worried. "So… our world… the Age of Gods ended. But here… it continues?"
"Yes," Kazuya replied. "That's the biggest difference. In this world, the Age of Gods never ended."
The two goddesses stared in silence. A silence heavy as a prophecy.
Ishtar reacted first, pouting. "Tch, that explains the massive energy everywhere. But… I'm intrigued."
Ereshkigal seemed more absorbed. "A world… where gods still rule… there must be much pain, but also much order. That's… terrifying and beautiful."
Kazuya nodded. "Here's the rundown. First, all mythologies are real. Norse, Greek, Hindu, and especially Biblical. Norse gods live in Asgard, Greeks on Olympus, and so on."
He paused to let it sink in, then continued.
"The dominant mythology here is Biblical. Demons arose from the underworld, created by the original Lucifer using his wife Lilith's body as a base. They formed the 72 demonic noble houses, extra demons, and armies under them. They live about 10,000 years. They were led by four original Satans. All human-like, except for black bat wings."
"Then come the Angels, servants of the Biblical God. They have white wings, halos, and wield holy light that burns demons and fallen angels."
The goddesses stared as if he'd said the sky was made of cheese.
"Fallen Angels…" he continued casually. "Angels who went rogue. Impure thoughts, bad choices, the usual. They were cast out and now form a faction called Grigori, led by a guy named Azazel."
"Now… what happened to these races…" The mood grew heavy. Funeral-level heavy.
"There was a war. An epic, world-ending kind. Three sides: angels, fallen angels, demons. Demons were led by Lucifer, Beelzebub, Leviathan, and Asmodeus. Angels had none other than God himself. Fallen angels? Azazel, obviously. Amid the chaos, two insanely powerful dragons appeared: Ddraig and Albion. The Heavenly Dragons. Strong enough to kill gods."
Ishtar's ruby eyes gleamed like someone announced a gold jewelry sale.
"TWO god-killing dragons? I WANT TO RIDE ONE!" she shouted, leaning forward.
Ereshkigal practically hid behind her dress sleeve. "That sounds horrific…"
"It was," Kazuya said, expression casual. "The three factions had to unite to prevent a bigger catastrophe. In the end, God sacrificed his life to seal both dragons into Sacred Gears, artifacts that trap their souls. Now they're known as Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing."
"G-God… died?" Ereshkigal whispered, as if saying it aloud were a sin.
Ishtar crossed her arms, puffed her cheeks, and gave her classic spoiled goddess scowl. "What kind of God dies like that? In my day, he wouldn't last two minutes with a celestial bull chasing him! Weakling!"
Kazuya raised an eyebrow. "Kinda expected that from you."
Ereshkigal stayed quiet. Her red eyes lowered slowly, as if she'd heard the name of someone she once knew.
"Even from another mythology," she murmured, "he guided many lives. Knowing he's gone… it's like feeling something we protected broke. Fragile."
Ishtar huffed. A classic.
"Ugh, here comes the depressing talk again. Eresh, do you have to go 'tragic poetry' mode all the time?"
"Sorry if I have empathy," Ereshkigal replied with a cute pout, puffing her cheeks.
"But I'm curious," Ishtar continued. "What kind of enemy could defeat this so-called God?"
"Trihexa," Kazuya said, dropping the name like a bomb. "The Beast Emperor of the Apocalypse. It wanted one thing: total destruction. God fought it but had to use most of his power to seal it. He entered the war exhausted… and died."
Even Ishtar fell silent for half a second. *Half*. A second.
"Okay, this Trihexa's definitely on my 'avoid at all costs' list…" she said with a nervous chuckle.
"After that," Kazuya went on, "the three factions pulled back. Today, they're in a Cold War. No direct attacks, but no hugs either."
Ereshkigal raised her hand, still with that look of someone who'd watched a tragic historical drama. "And… the leaders?"
"Demons have new Maous: Sirzechs Gremory as Lucifer, Ajuka as Beelzebub, Serafall Sitri as Leviathan, Falbium as Asmodeus. Angels are led by Michael. Fallen angels stick with Azazel."
"Now, about those Sacred Gears I mentioned… They're artifacts created by God and given to humans. Some heal, some blow stuff up. The strongest are called Longinus, unique weapons that can kill gods. If you have one and lose… well, goodbye."
"Like a Noble Phantasm!" Ishtar exclaimed, excited.
"Kinda," Kazuya said. "Only humans or human hybrids can be born with one. Angels and demons can get one… if they resurrect a human with a Gear. Fallen angels even developed a creepy ritual to steal Gears from others."
Ishtar rolled her eyes. "Typical. When they can't create, they steal."
"These Gears have an advanced mode called Balance Breaker," he explained. "It's the final stage. Awakens when the wielder feels something intense. Strong emotions, sacrifice… they say it's a flaw in the divine system."
"Flaw?" Ereshkigal tilted her head, curious. "But… isn't that kind of beautiful? A system that responds to the human heart. Even a system made by God… couldn't ignore our feelings."
Ishtar huffed even louder. "Beautiful? I call it lazy design."
"Hey! I just thought it was poetic!" Ereshkigal shot back, sulking.
"And what are these Longinus?" Ishtar asked, slipping back into 'collector of deadly artifacts' mode.
"They're the elite Gears. Each is unique, with multiple abilities and god-killing potential. Called tools that destroy God. There are thirteen. The first was True Longinus."
The two fell silent. A rare occurrence.
"Weapons that kill gods… handed out randomly to humans?" Ishtar whistled. "Kazuya, give me one. Come on. Just a little one."
Ereshkigal looked at him, blushing, almost tripping over her words. "Do… you have one? Not that I'm curious! Just… worried, you know?"
Kazuya smiled. Enigmatic mode activated.
"I'll leave that to your imagination."
Ishtar narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "That was a yes disguised as 'none of your business,' wasn't it?"
"Or an 'I'm so cool I don't need to tell you,' which is worse," she added, crossing her arms dramatically.
"Are you two praising me or trying to pry?" Kazuya countered with a crooked smile that irritated and charmed at once.
"Depends," Ishtar replied with a mischievous grin. "Will you give me a Sacred Gear if I say you're the most amazing human I've ever met?"
"No," he answered instantly.
"Damn."
Ereshkigal rolled her eyes. "You really thought that'd work?"
"It worked on half the Mesopotamian gods. Thought it was worth a shot," Ishtar shot back, shameless.
Kazuya shook his head. "Okay, back to the point. Not every Sacred Gear wielder knows they have one. Some never awaken. Others manifest in danger. And the stronger it is, the bigger a target you become."
"How does an ordinary human handle that?" Ereshkigal asked, genuinely.
"Most don't," Kazuya shrugged. "They live a normal life until a fallen angel shows up in the school sky and tries to rip out their soul."
"Nothing new. But back to it…" Ishtar practically rolled over him until she was draped across his chest. "You've got one of these Sacred Gears and won't let me play with it?"
"Definitely not the kind of toy you borrow."
Ereshkigal flushed. Ishtar let out a wicked laugh.
The morning hadn't even properly started…
But the clock didn't care. Kazuya glanced at the digital alarm blinking red: 6:47.
Crap.
He sighed, rubbing his face. "Okay… time to face the world."
The two stared as if he'd announced the apocalypse.
"You're leaving?" Ereshkigal asked, sitting up slightly.
"I've got class…" Kazuya explained, sitting on the bed and stretching. "School. That human institution that slowly drains your soul over twelve years."
Ishtar snorted. "Pfft, you still bother pretending to be a normal student? I'd refuse on principle."
"You refuse to get up before noon," he retorted. Then he stood, casually stripping off his clothes.
Silence.
Ishtar raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading like a cat spotting fun. "Oh? We didn't even have to ask for a striptease today."
Ereshkigal froze, eyes wide, hands covering her face—but with fingers parted. "Ka-Kazuya…!"
He didn't seem to notice. He walked to the wardrobe and began dressing in his school uniform with the ease of someone who'd shared a room with two deities forever.
"Relax, guys. I'm pretty, not dangerous."
"I disagree," Ishtar whispered, still admiring. "Definitely dangerous."
"There should be a divine law against this kind of morning provocation," Ereshkigal mumbled, voice muffled, ears bright red.
Kazuya pulled on his pants calmly, then grabbed the white shirt, buttoning it leisurely. "You two stay here, okay? I'll be back after class."
Ishtar stretched on the bed like a bored goddess on her throne. "And what are we supposed to do? Stare out the window like dogs waiting for their owner?"
"You're goddesses. Figure something out. Just don't destroy the apartment." He grabbed his tie but decided against it. "And no magic that turns the couch into a gold throne, Ishtar."
"Buzzkill," she grumbled.
Ereshkigal finally lowered her hands and spoke softly: "You'll really be back this afternoon?"
Kazuya looked at her with a gentle smile. "Of course, Eresh. I won't abandon you, don't worry…"
The underworld goddess blushed again, looking away, hugging the pillow like it was a shield against that disarming sweetness.
Kazuya was at the door, backpack over his shoulder, ready to face another day at Kuoh Academy.
"Don't destroy the world till I'm back."
"Bring me some jewels or Swiss chocolate, and I'll consider your case…" Ishtar shouted, huffing.
The door closed, leaving two goddesses in a silent room…