Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     The night was dark, cold, and dreary, full moon clearly present in the sky. Akira Kurusu, former Phantom Thief, current student, sat… helping file papers. He’d asked Yoshida if he’d be able to apprentice under him, somewhat, so, here he sat, far later than either he, or the politician had expected. The kind older man had insisted he assist a swath of recent hires who’d still not entirely acclimated to their job. 

     Yoshida insisted that the group go home after they’d already spent much more time at the office than usual, sending them all off with a kind wave. He’d intended to file the rest of the papers himself, but Akira refused to let Old Man Tora go it alone, helping with what he could and brewing the man the best coffee he could with the limited utensils at hand. 

     Their brief, calm quiet was, however, dampened by hastened knocking on the window, both of them shooting glances to the glass, yet the young adult’s eyes blazing a bright, eerie yellow. Yoshida, glancing back to him jolted, knocking a knee off the underside of his desk. Suddenly, his aide shot him a dour look. 

     “You alright here, Tora? There seems to be something pressing I’ve gotta take care of.” After a pause, noting his mentor’s questioning look, he added, “Thief work, I’m sure.” 

     The politician frowned, worry crossing his face, before calling, “Stay safe, young man!” to his already departing aide. 

-     -     -

     Aki- no, Joker, sprinted up the stairs, the bag he’d desperately grabbed as he departed slung across his shoulders. From it, he pulled his dagger, Paradise Lost. Out the window he’d seen a black-clad figure sprinting up the wall, yet, worse, legions of white, angelic figures with glowing halos. Another god wasn’t something he’d stand, not now, not ever. 

     As he stood at the top, he paused, dozens of gunshots rung out, the door already perforated with bullet holes. Oh well, being a Thief never meant he couldn’t afford to be reckless every once in a while. Booting open the door, he lept out, seeing the figure from before firing into the small horde of angels, spraying blood and feathers everywhere. 

     One struck at her, but she simply backflipped over the staff, sending more bullets flying to the angels and planting the butt of her gun into the head of one. Not one to be outdone, Akira stepped in, swinging his dagger to one that attempted to sneak up on the figure, cleaving through it easily. 

     The angels seemed to only take notice of Akira then, pausing and turning to the newcomer, before charging. Akira simply grinned, spinning his dagger in his hand and returning their gazes with his blazing yellow eyes. The black-clad woman shot him a look too, before waving a hand towards herself and declaring, “Welcome to the party, young one!”

-    -     -

     Akira and the woman stood back to back, though Akira couldn’t help feel he lacked something she didn’t. A working gun. As such, when she shot a kick out, firing the gun clipped to her heel, Akira crouched down on the ground, readying a leap, yet snatching the other gun from her heel in one swift movement. 

     He disconnected from her, jumping onto the closest angel to him, stabbing his dagger into its neck and holding on, wrapping both of his legs around the thing, shooting with his other hand as the creature spun in pain, firing slow, precise shots that each hit their targets. As the angel he rode fell, so did he spinning and using the momentum it carried to turn the corpse into an oncoming axe, the axe wielding thing suddenly stopping as a new hole sprung forth from its chest as the woman shot it. 

     And like that, the rooftop grew silent, the woman staring down at the young man, keeping a gun trained on him. Lacking many options, Akira shrunk beneath the corpse, aiming the stolen gun straight back at her through the body. 

     “Now who might you be? You seem a tad ordinary to be a demon, yet you can see me.”

     “Just somebody trying to stop these things from trying to take over humanity. What say we put the guns away before we talk?” 

     Chuckling, the woman obliged, putting her hand on her hip and relaxing her gun arm to her side. “Now you seem to be an interesting creature. Why would you think these things have any interest in humanity, hmm?”

     This gave Akira pause. “How about we swap questions?” He grinned, pushing the corpse aside and standing. “Can’t have me spilling my guts without you spilling yours.”     

     “Oho, cocky one, aren’t you? Well, I suppose I’ll oblige. I’ve yet to see eyes like that on a human and I’m quite curious.” Turning, she traced a circle with her heel, from which a blood red, bubbling portal appeared, that she promptly stepped into, falling through. Akira, figuring she may well be his best bet in understanding what was going on, stepped inside as well. 

-     -     -

     Through the portal, he found himself in… an ornately decorated bar. Behind the counter stood a massive man, tattoos adorning his face and eyes covered by sunglasses. The woman strode up to a stool in front of the bar, sitting down gracefully, placing her guns on the counter. “Now who’d you drag in this time?” The man asked the woman. 

     Akira simply stepped forward, placing the woman’s gun on the counter next to him alongside his dagger. “Call me Joker.” 

     The man nodded, glancing down at his dagger, asking, “May I? Special blade you got there.” To which Joker simply nodded, watching as the man grabbed the dagger and began to study it intensely. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but the man interrupted. “The hell kinda demon went into this, kid? Never seen anything like it.”

     Akira steeled his expression, how the hell could this guy know a demon went into making it? Leaning towards the man, propping his head up on his hand, he replied. “Satanael, actually.” 

     The man and the witch both froze. “What’s up?” Akira asked, confused. 

     “Why, I’ve not heard such a horrendously fabricated lie in ages, you must try harder than that, dear.” The woman replied, icily. 

     “Nah, Bayo, it’s… that’s definitely from something real damn strong.” The man replied, seeming more confused than anything. 

     “Are you hearing him? The boy’s mad, we both know a mere… whatever it is couldn’t kill something of that magnitude.”

     “Ouch. Plus, I never killed Satanael, Satanael is me.”

     Immediately, ‘Bayo’ snatched her gun from the counter, aiming at Joker. “Explain.” She demanded. 

     “There’s a power I have. It lets me call deities, demons, monsters, whatever to cast spells and- what’s with that look?” 

     “There are only two umbran witches left, boy. Do not claim something you do not possess.” The woman said, venom dripping from her words. 

     “I’m… not a witch?” Joker replied, confused. 

     “Then your claims of forming pacts with demons? Are you a sage, then?” She challenged. 

     “Not a clue what you’re talking about.” Joker replied. “I’ve only got the ability to summon them in another dimension, the Metaverse.”

     She half lowered her gun, clearly confused. “Then what of Satanael?” 

     Joker smirked, taking the opportunity to show off. “Simple. Most people only have one of these, they personify the person and are… some extension of the person themselves.” He paused, glancing to the barkeep, who’s eyes glowed a hellish red. Ominous. “Satanael is the strongest form of mine. I gained its power and used it to kill a god that planned on enslaving humanity.” 

     The two kept their eyes on him, before the woman laughed, outright, full blown laughter, completely lowering her gun, placing it on the counter. “I see what’s going on here, you simply wished to spin some elaborate tale, showing yourself as more than you are.” 

     Before Joker could retort, the man responded, “His eyes, Bayo. Ain’t seen anything like ‘em. He’s got something up his sleeve.”

     As the two others launched into a small debate on his eyes, within Akira’s head he could hear Arsene. Trickster. Allow me to show them their folly. With your command I’ll prove your tale irrefutably.

     Nodding his head, Akira felt a splitting headache form. Much worse than the years ago he’d first summoned Arsene, yet… as he felt an odd sensation grow within his head, he wasn’t worried. Suddenly, from his back, he felt two small gouts of a familiar azure flame. And from those circles of fire sprouted two massive wings. Black, feathered wings that he’d know anywhere. Arsene’s. 

     The two others in the bar stared at him in utter confusion as Akira wobbled in place, his new wings curling around him to protect him as he fell to the ground, passing out.  

-     -     -

     When he awoke, he was in an odd room that smelled of oil and gunpowder. He made to sit up, noting his lack of wings, but he found he couldn’t. He was simply too exhausted. 

     Beside him came a voice, though nobody was there, “You’ve exhausted yourself, young one. And from the looks of things, you’re a witch after all.”

     “The hell do you mean? Those were my persona’s wings.” Akira responded. “How do you keep going invisible?”

     “I tend to stay in a realm adjacent to yours, purgatorio. It makes things easier. To be honest I’m shocked you can see me at all.” 

     “This god gave me something I call the Third Eye. Lets me see things I shouldn’t and it sometimes slows my perception of time.”

     “You’ve Witch Time, then?” She asked, confusedly. 

     “I… maybe? It only happens sometimes.”

     “Have you any family members that might be witches?” She asked, tentatively. 

     “I’ve never met my mom, so she could be, I guess.”

     As soon as he said this, the woman’s face went pale. “Oh dear.” She simply said. 

     “You know my mom?” Akira asked, confused. 

     “Why, dear, I believe I am your mummy.” 

     “I…” Joker paused, remembering her… risqué method of fighting, “very much doubt you’re a nun.”

     The woman somehow went paler.

-     -     -

     As soon as Bayonetta had left the room, leaving on a short errand to pick something up for Akira, apparently, the barkeep stepped in and properly introduced himself. 

     “So, you’re a witch, huh?” Rodin (which was, apparently, the barkeep’s name) asked rhetorically. 

     “Guess so, why?”

     “How’d you make that knife of yours, then? That’s not something witches really get into.

     “I didn’t make it.” Joker admitted. “Have a couple friends who work with persona, they’re the ones to do it, not me.” 

     The man hummed. “I see. Tell ya what, I’ll give you the same deal I gave your mommy. You find me angelic records or bring me personas, I’ll make you some kick-ass weapons.” 

     Akira laughed, “I can’t get access to my supply of personas anymore, but I’d be happy to pay for your stock with whatever currency you'd accept.”

     “Damn, you sure as shit didn’t get that politeness from Bayo.” Rodin chuckled, clapping Akira on the shoulder.

Chapter Text

     After much discussion,  Akira decided he’d join the wom- his mom. She was headed to what was apparently an honest to god gate to actual, literal Hell so she could get her friend’s soul back. Japan was just a short pit stop on her way. Combine Akira’s bleeding heart with the fact that deep down he desperately wanted to get to know his mother (not that he’d actually tell her that) and Akira agreed quite readily. 

     Rodin, the giant man behind the bar, seemed to have questions for him, but Bayonetta seemed to be in a rush, ushering Joker into another portal and bringing him to a tiny airstrip where a small, oddly stressed out Italian-American man opened the door to usher them into the plane. Bayonetta, though, simply motioned to Akira and leapt up atop the wings. 

     Chuckling to himself, Akira hopped up and pulled himself up one handed as he’d done in the Metaverse hundreds of times. Since awakening to Arsene in the real world he felt… energized, stronger and, hell, if his long-lost mother was crazy enough to stand atop a flying plane, why couldn’t he?

-     -     -

     “Young one, have you formed a pact with your demon?” His mom asked. 

     “I… think so?” Akira replied. Satanael, within him, wordlessly answered. “Yes. Satanael just confirmed that.”

     “Hmm. Good. Anyways…” she trailed off, before sending a sweeping, telegraphed kick towards Akira. Akira instinctively dropped, catching himself with his fingertips and springing into a handstand, returning a kick. As he did, out of the corner of his eye he noticed something strange. 

     Bayonetta sidestepped his kick, pulling him to his feet and joining him in glancing around. They could both see the propeller as it spun, no longer a blur, but slowly rotating in place. Momentarily, the flow of time resumed as usual. 

     “That, young one, was Witch Time. You may activate it on command, however I felt a practical demonstration was easier.” 

     “That… makes sense, I guess.” Akira replied, still not entirely understanding. To him, slowing time was more of a Third Eye thing, he’d usually only really use it to see hidden passageways or occasionally to hit baseballs at the batting cage easier. Maybe it was more like that?

     With a moment of concentration, suddenly the propellers slowed again. And with another, it went back to normal. At his side, Bayonetta clapped her hands. 

     “Bravo! You catch on fast. As to be expected, you are my kin, of course.” 

     Before either could ruminate on that particular metaphorical elephant in that particular metaphorical room, they felt the plane they were in began to shudder. In front of them was what seemed like an army of angels. 

     “Oh lovely, seems they’ve brought a welcome party!” Bayonetta’s exclaimed, readying her guns as Joker’s wild smirk grew. 

     A cluster of angels flew at their plane, too many for Bayonetta to shoot out of the sky and, as such, Joker used the trick Bayonetta had taught him shortly before takeoff, creating a small portal with the wave of a hand, Arsene’s claw reaching through and slashing a cluster of angels into chunks. He kept this up, keeping the spear-wielding angels away from his mother, who fired into the oncoming horde. 

     The cacophony of gunfire ended rather quickly, all things considered. This was because the plane swerving and swaying from the angels’ attacks had Bayonetta and Joker flung from the plane in a wild dive towards the mountainside village below. 

-     -     - 

     The two had landed in a church of all places, Bayonetta landing on her feet with Akira gliding in behind her on Arsene’s feathered wings. The angels chasing them uncaringly crashing through the stained glass windows. “Young one, how about I show you another little trick of us Umbra Witches?” Bayonetta asked as she pulled a massive piece of medieval torture equipment from a glowing sigil. 

     “Looks lovely, how do I do it?” Joker cockily replied. 

-     -     -

     To the ire of Lavenza and the amusement of Igor, their guest simply couldn’t stray from trouble. Lavenza kept tabs on her trickster after his departure from the Velvet Room, but even if she hadn’t, there was only a single guest of theirs that even knew of the Velvet Room’s guillotines and currently, they kept disappearing into thin air. \

     They kept being pulled through large blue sigils of a sort she’d never seen before. Her master chuckled as she sat on the guillotine, face scrunched up with annoyance, her chainsaw sat on her lap as she readied herself to be pulled through the portal, too. 

-     -     -

     Joker didn’t quite expect to gain the attention of the Velvet Room, but he wasn’t all too surprised when Lavenza joined the guillotine as it was pulled through the portal he’d summoned. Bayonetta seemed mildly surprised, though, to see a small blonde girl firing blasts of blinding Almighty energy and swinging a chainsaw larger than her around with equal measures of reckless abandon and ease. The three simply continued the increasingly short-lived fight until, in a final spray of blood, Bayonetta turned to Lavenza, scrutinizing her. 

     “Dear, I don’t think children should be wielding weapons like that.” She began, causing Lavenza to scrunch her face up in childish anger. 

     “I have business with the Trickster.” She replied, glaring at Akira’s mother. “I believe this is something best discussed with my Master.” She added, looking back at Akira.

     “Can m- Bayonetta join us?” Akira asked as Lavenza waved a hand, opening a familiar velvet blue cell door in thin air.

     “I believe that is acceptable.” She confirmed, stepping into the glowing portal. 

-     -     -

     “So… where are we?” Bayonetta asked, putting her hands on her hips and staring directly at Igor.

      “Good to see you again, Igor. Been awhile.” Akira began, ignoring Bayonetta’s question. 

     “Trickster, you’ve been well, I take it?” The shrill-voiced old man asked. 

     “I have! As you both can probably tell, I’ve reunited with my mother, Bayonetta.” Joker replied, motioning to the still-confused woman. “Bayonetta, meet Igor and Lavenza, these two helped me greatly in my previous line of work as a Thief.”

     “Charmed. I’m this one’s mummy, as he said.” Bayonetta replied. 

     Immediately Lavenza’s face went unreadable, while Igor simply chuckled amicably. “Lovely to meet you, Bayonetta.” Igor replied.    

     “Y-yes, nice to meet you.” Lavenza replied, curtsying. 

     Joker clapped his gloved hands together. “Now that introductions are out of the way, I wanted to ask. Igor, Lavenza, would you happen to know how I can use demonic powers without the demons?”

     “This is not our particular area of expertise, though I’d wager due that to your… unique lineage, as well as your unique connection to the Metaverse that rather than drawing power from wherever your mother does that you draw it from the collective unconscious.” Lavenza answered, hesitantly. 

     “That does seem to be the case, thank you, Lavenza.” Igor praised. 

     Joker hummed thoughtfully. “So, to summarize for Bayonetta’s sake, rather than draw power from Hell and its demons, I draw power from humanity's will?”

     “Correct.” Igor replied. 

     “Cool. Sorry for stealing your equipment, by the way.” Joker apologized, to Igor’s amusement.  “

     Trickster, that equipment was created by Yaldabaoth, we’ve no further use for it.” With a pause, Igor’s grin grew and he continued, “Though I suppose we’ll keep it in storage, as you seem to have found use for it.”

-     -     -

     As soon as they’d left the Velvet Room, Bayonetta began walking off, listing off the details of another spell as her and her son continued out of the church. Apparently this was quite a simple one, allowing one to alter their clothing and use their hair as a sort of… conduit of sorts, manipulating it at will, hence his mother’s clothing. As soon as he understood this, Akira manipulated his into his signature Joker outfit, to his mother’s tutting, almost jokingly disappointed reply. 

     “Dear, you’ll need to learn to walk in heels if you’re going to be using these.” She explained, tossing four large, ornamental maroon pistols to her son. “Think of them as a nice little gift from mummy, to make up for lost time. They’re called Scarborough Fair, made by Rodin for yours truly.” 

Chapter Text

     Eventually, the two had made their way to a plaza, pristine stone walkways lined with water, some of the plaza seemingly half-submerged. Over the click of Akira and Bayonetta’s matching gun-heeled boots, they heard the swooshing of wings, both of them taking a sidelong glance to the other, waiting for the angels to get closer.  

     They didn’t, however, opting to fly directly past the witches, directly at a young boy wearing an oversized hoodie. Akira was about to jump into the fray to save the boy, but soon found the boy himself was fighting, throwing cards that sliced through and dissolved the angels. That being said, his fighting style seemed sloppy and he obviously grew tired easily, so Akira didn’t even bother pointing his gun to the boy when he threatened Bayonetta with his little playing card. Akira did, however, opt to leap from the perch he’d taken above the fountain, landing from a flip mere inches behind the boy. 

     This cut off the child’s taunt, him turning and holding a card as if to throw it at Joker. “Where’d you come from, you damn stage magician?”

     “Above your head, little one.” Akira replied, tauntingly, using his mother’s choice of words.

     “Oh, you both think you’re real funny, huh? Well, you won’t be laughing when I-.”

     “Cut the tough-guy act, kid.” Akira commanded. He’d had quite enough of the child’s shitty attitude. “You have questions, we may answer, but we’re both awfully busy, so I’d prefer it if you could get your questions over with, so we could be on our merry way.

     “Who do you think you are, insulting me like that? And how the hell can either of you see me?”

     “With our eyes.” Akira answered, at the same time as Bayonetta replied with “because we’re in Purgatorio.”

     The boy repeated that last word, clutching his head. Bayonetta walked up to the boy and bent down, asking directly in his ear, “going to Fimbulvetr on a shopping trip for mummy, little one?”

     The boy stumbled backwards, “maybe, but she told me never to talk to strangers!” He exclaimed.

     Joker couldn’t help but burst out laughing, cutting off whatever the kid had been about to say. “That’s not nearly the quip you think it to be.” 

     At the audible flapping of wings from above, the kid turned and ran, yelling about how “they sensed him,” and entirely leaving Joker and Bayonetta to deal with the small flock of angels landing between them and the boy, who was currently making his escape into a church in front of them. 

     “Bayonetta, you go after the boy, I’ll take these new boots for a walk.” Joker told his mother. 

     “Are you quite sure?” She asked, either concerned or surprised at his offer. 

     “Oh, I’m sure. I’d love to go for a little dance with our guests here.” Joker replied cockily, readying his pistols and absentmindedly spinning one in his hand. 

     Bayonetta nodded, calling that they’d meet in the church in a few minutes as she transformed into a panther, leaping over the angels and bounding up the side of the church, immediately being confronted by a massive angel. Akira quickly tore his eyes away from the woman’s fight, stepping back as a spear stabbed into the floor where he was. 

     Joker stepped close to the spear, tucking behind it as another angel angled a sweeping slash to him, the blow being blocked by the still-embedded spear. Wasting no time, Akira activated Witch Time just as Bayonetta had taught him, springing off the spear and landing with a boot to the head of the angel that’d dare swing it, Joker firing the gun in his boot as he used the angel’s head as a springboard, launching himself into the air further The teen twisting himself around as he’d done in Sae’s Casino, aiming all four of his guns to the cluster of angels beneath him and firing as fast as he could manage, a barrage of hot lead shredding the angels’ horrid attempts at blocking with their bare arms. 

     Landing on the ground with a flourish, Joker stowed his right pistol for a moment, turning to sprint straight at the closest angel and pulling himself into a roll, drawing his dagger and slicing the bare underbelly of one of the centaur-shaped creatures as he rolled. “Shame you all seem to have two left feet, I was quite looking forward to having some decent dance partners, too,” Joker stated, finding himself somewhat disappointed by how easily the group went down, each only taking a few swipes from Arsene’s claws or a meagre few kicks to take down. 

     “Oh, come on. The damn Grail’s minions lasted longer than this. If this is truly the best Paradiso has to offer, maybe we need a Satanael for that place, as well.” Akira taunted as another angel fell. From within his very soul, he felt a familiar pang, putting a hand to his forehead as he felt, rather than heard a familiar, yet horrific giggle from the depths of his mind.

     “Looks like you little angels are about to get a new playmate.” Joker cackled, the voice in his head joining along. 

     With the same portal he’d normally use to summon Arsene, he chose a different demon. Beside him stepped Alice, curtseying her dress as she waved her hand, from the air behind her appeared a barrage of forks and other assorted utensils, darts, playing cards and the familiar form of teddy bears, dynamite strapped to their chests. The projectiles sliced and speared the angels mercilessly and the teddy bears lept onto any survivors, exploding in a puff of smoke as Akira knelt down to praise Alice on a job well done. 

     Before he could reflect on their victory, he heard the crashing of brickwork, seeing his mother on the wall of the church, stepping back and gracefully evading a sword stab from an utterly massive angel. The angel seemed to be in rough shape already, gouges and cuts lining the arms and legs of the knightly angel. By the time Akira ran to the wall and began running up it, his mother had summoned a demon from… a portal made from her hair. 

     Her suit stay in place, a spiral of hair erupted from the top of her head and slammed into the ground, a massive figure emerging and sawing the angel with its own sword, eventually slamming it down with enough force to send the sword and the stain that used to be the angel hurtling through the church and out the other side, Bayonetta jumping inside and catching herself on the fixture of a chandelier. 

     Joker followed, opting to let the effects of the moon fade, returning his gravity to normal as he swung out his grappling hook, landing directly in front of the body parts that used to be the angel Bayonetta had killed, apparently having landed where the kid was running, as he now lay trapped. Whether this was simply coincidence or actually planned by Bayonetta wasn’t commented on, though the woman soon joined Akira, observing the boy as he wriggled, trapped, but unharmed. 

     “So, Little One ,” Akira began, using his mother’s insult. “What do you know?”

     “Nothing, comes to mind.” The kid lied. “Now hurry the fuck up and get this thing off of me!” He yelled. 

     “That’s no way to talk to a lady, little guy.” Joker chided, chuckling to himself. 

     Bayonetta idly commented, “no wonder his guardian angels wanted to give him a spanking,” laughing along. 

     “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” The kid snapped back, before seemingly getting an idea, unsubtly changing his tune immediately. “Hey, you’re both going to Fimbulventr too, yeah? What say we make a deal? You both need my help getting there, so how about we work together?” 

     “You seem to have skipped school the day they taught basic negotiation skills. You’re supposed to negotiate from a position of strength, Little One.” Bayonetta replied, holding up one of the kid’s cards between her gloved fingers. The tossed it, the card failing to light up as it had when the kid himself had thrown it, instead falling weakly to the ground. Before the kid could laugh at her, however, Bayonetta unleashed a barrage of bullets, shredding the corpse trapping the boy and freeing him. 

     “I don’t give a fuck who you are or why you’re off to Fimbulventr, but stay with us and you’ll end up there in one piece.” Bayonetta said as her and Joker walked past the boy and out the doors of the church, the boy scrambling to catch up. 

     “We sticking with codenames around the kid or are you using your real name?” Joker asked Bayonetta.

     “Either are fine by me. I somehow doubt anybody wishing me harm would be able to track me down.” Bayonetta laughed. “So, Little One, Bayonetta or Cereza, take your pick.” 

     “What makes you think you can just keep calling me that?” The boy fumed. 

     “It’s true.” Joker laughed. “In comparison, you’re rather little.” Shaking his head, he gave the boy a small, genuine smile. “That being said, Joker or Akira, either or, for me.” 

Chapter Text

     As it turned out, this was a harder promise to keep than Akira had thought as, seconds after they walked out the church’s doors, a large fissure from the ground crashed through the concrete. Before their eyes, a large figure emerged, destroying entire buildings as it rose, clamping down with metal talons on the rooftops above them and talking in an unfamiliar language. One that Akira found he understood perfectly, despite never having heard it prior. The thing had a massive marble face and features befitting a dragon, maw and claws metallic and gilded.

     He and Bayonetta listened to the thing’s spoutings of a ‘Sovereign One’, but Akira scantly heard a word. His eyes were locked on the hole the thing had emerged from and, more importantly, the homes the thing had destroyed. He knew what he had to do to prevent further harm to anybody nearby, so he cut the thing off with a gunshot. “You take our new friend further ahead. I’ll take this fuck down.” 

     “You believe you’ve got what it takes, dear?” Cereza replied, glancing to Akira. 

     Akira forced the scowl from his face, not replying with anything but a nod and springing into a leap, having Arsene hoist him up and through the gap between the Angel’s neck and the ledge of the building. 

     Soon enough, Joker was in the air, launching barrages of bullets to the Angel as he kept the fight away from the town. The thing’s landing had crushed the rooftops and Akira knew that with the power he and his mother possessed, they needed to keep damages contained. 

-     -     -

     “Damned show-off.” The child grumbled as he and Cereza walked down the street, idly watching Joker’s impromptu aerial dogfight. Seeing how quickly he’d sprung into action and the prowess with which he fought made Bayonetta proud, yet… it did somewhat worry her how quickly he’d sprung into combat. And how bothered he seemed by the Angel’s destruction. 

     She’d thought Akira a warrior, but, then again, she didn’t quite know the kind of man her son was, yet. She only really knew that he’d hastily agreed to get involved once again with magic he didn’t understand for the sake of a woman he hardly knew. On reflection… perhaps her son’s clear bleeding-heart wasn’t entirely surprising, considering that. 

     Realizing she’d not replied to the Little One’s snide comment, Cereza shot another glance up to the dogfight above, “I daresay it’s not being a showoff if one can hold their own to the extent he can.” 

     “Oh yeah?” The Little One challenged, “then why’s he not killed that bastard, yet?” 

     The boy did, admittedly, bring up a good point. Her son was more playing with his opponent than killing it. She’d taken stock of his fights before yet… now he didn’t dare dive for the killing blow as he had before. He’d duck forth for a slash across the Angel’s face, leaving a bleeding gouge, but he’d not dart in for the kill. Not to mention how sloppy he was being. 

     “You may well be right, Little One, however, I’m sure he’s a plan in mind, I’ve taught him well in what little time we’ve had.” Cereza replied, confidently, in contrast to her innermost thoughts.

     “Well he’d better hurry his plan up, then, if we’d like to get to Fimbulventr on time,” the boy griped. 

     Before Cereza could reply, black clouds flooded in from the horizon, a black, gloved hand emerging from them, swooping across the sky and snatching the angel as it attempted to flee, mercilessly crushing the thing to a spray of red mist as Joker fell from the skies, his demon- persona carrying him down, though clearly only just. 

     As he landed alongside Cereza and the Little One, the Witch quickly took stock of her son. He was exhausted, completely and utterly, panting and bruised. Did the brat underestimate his opponent to such a sheer degree that he’d be left barely conscious?

-     -     -

     Akira felt good, great , even, after he’d summoned Satanael to kill the Angelic monster that had dared attack the city and, sure, he may have overdone it, but, well, the thing deserved it. Clearly though, his tutor didn’t agree, considering how, as he crashed into the ground a little rougher than he’d expected, he was only met with a harsh glare. 

     “What the hell was that?” Was the immediate question Bayonetta asked, as Akira tried to steady himself as they walked, which was proving frustratingly difficult.

     “Satanael you mean?” Akira huffed, knowing that wasn’t what she meant in the slightest. 

     The kid snickered, “aww, seems like mummy’s scolding you.”

     Ignoring him, Bayonetta continued, “you know damn well what I meant. You were playing with the damn thing, not killing it.”

     “And? That Angel destroyed multiple homes, Bayonetta!” Akira challenged, the words not quite having the bite he wished them to, considering he was hardly standing upright. 

     “I couldn’t care less if you’ve a bleeding heart, but you were reckless and sloppy. You are my son and I expect you to act as such. You were a damnable cat playing with its food and now, you’re unable to fight.” Bayonetta scolded. 

     Akira, unable to find much of a retort, simply replied, “it deserved it,” which felt hollow to his own ears. 

     “I’m well aware.” Cereza replied, glare softening ever so slightly. “I’ll teach you the most basic of shapeshifting spells, young one, that way, you can rest while I bring us towards our goal.”

     “...Sorry.” Akira mumbled, sudden guilt from the realisation that he’d slowed them down  flooding in.

     “Don’t fret, young one. You made a mistake, but you’ve not slowed our trek, yet.” Cereza assured. And that was the last words said in regards to Akira’s reckless outburst, the two Witches delving into the spell Cereza had told Akira of. 

     Apparently, the shape he was to take was based on him, he’d not have much say. It wasn’t entirely surprising to Akira, then, when he was turned into a small cat, appearing nearly identical to Morgana, minus the collar.