Jin awoke to the sensation of a soft touch against his hair. Consciousness returned reluctantly, surfacing from a viscous, drunken slumber in which there had been neither dreams nor nightmares—only a blessed emptiness. He cracked his eyes open. The first thing he saw was a high ceiling of dark metal and soft, diffuse blue light streaming from hidden panels. The air was cool and clean, carrying a barely perceptible scent of flowers.
"You're awake, master?"
The voice was quiet, deferential. Jin turned his head. Standing beside the bed was a young Fallen in a strict but elegant maid's uniform. She held a hanger with neatly pressed clothing. No sooner had he sat up in bed than the door opened silently and an entire squad of identical maids entered the room. They moved in seamless, wordless coordination, like a well-oiled machine. One brought a tray with water and something resembling an invigorating elixir. Another threw open the curtains, revealing a view of the Grigori base's corridor humming with life.
Jin froze, unaccustomed to this level of service. Here he was surrounded by silent, professional care. He expected to feel irritation at the intrusion into his personal space, but instead felt only a mild, almost amusing surprise. He relaxed. Let them do as they pleased.
They helped him up and escorted him to a spacious bathhouse finished in dark, almost black stone. The hot water washed away the remnants of the alcoholic stupor and the aching fatigue in his muscles, and obliging hands helped him dress in the offered clothing—a simple but high-quality black shirt and dark trousers, perfectly fitted to his form. It was strange, but not unpleasant. After bathing and changing, he was led down long, echoing corridors to the already familiar armored door of Azazel's laboratory.
The maids bowed deferentially and, leaving him before the entrance, withdrew silently. Jin glanced after them for a moment, waved a hand in thanks, and then, closing the heavy door behind him, entered.
The chaos was gone. The laboratory had been surprisingly tidied. The broken bottle had vanished, the blueprints were neatly stacked on a separate table, the empty pizza boxes and sake bottles had disappeared. Even the air seemed cleaner. The only thing disrupting this newfound order was the owner himself.
Azazel sat at his console, completely absorbed in whatever was unfolding on the holographic screen. He hadn't slept. The dark bags under his eyes had deepened further, his hair was disheveled, and his gaze darted feverishly across lines of incomprehensible text and shifting images. He was muttering something under his breath, occasionally scratching his head, and seemed utterly oblivious to Jin's presence.
Jin stepped closer, peering curiously over his shoulder. Diagrams resembling the structure of the human soul flickered on the screen, along with ornate script he had never seen before, and three-dimensional models of complex organic and mechanical structures. It looked like the fever dream of a biologist and an engineer.
"So, found something interesting?"
The question made Azazel flinch. He whirled around, and Jin saw his eyes—reddened from lack of sleep, but burning with such fanatical, obsessive researcher's fire that it was a little unnerving.
"Jin!" He exhaled wearily, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. "You're finally awake?"
"I didn't drink that much," Jin snorted.
"You have no idea what you drank," Azazel muttered, but immediately waved it off. "Never mind. While you were sleeping it off, I haven't been idle. After our... conversation last night... I conducted several tests. Using samples of your energy that I had the foresight to collect while you were snoring on my table."
He jumped up, his fatigue vanishing in an instant, replaced by a lecturer's fervor.
"And what I've discovered... it turns everything upside down! Look!"
He pulled up two pulsating spheres of energy on the main screen. One—crimson-black, unstable, aggressive. The other—dazzling gold, pure and warm.
"Demonic energy and holy power," he explained. "Two poles, two opposites. They conflict, they annihilate each other. An abyss between them. There's also nature energy, Senjutsu, Touki... dozens of variations, each with its own 'frequency,' its own structure. They can interact, but they never truly mix. And now..." he brought up a third sphere, azure-blue, calm and steady, "...your energy."
He moved the image of the azure sphere toward the demonic one. Instead of the expected conflict, the azure energy smoothly enveloped the crimson-black, and it... became more stable, brighter. Then he moved it toward the holy one. The same effect—the golden radiance intensified, grew more concentrated.
"It's neutral!" Azazel was almost shouting with delight. "Absolutely neutral and universal! It doesn't conflict with anything! Moreover, it's capable of feeding and amplifying any other form of energy! It's like a universal blood donor for magic itself! Do you understand what this means?! It means you are, theoretically, capable of using any magic! Demonic, angelic, draconic... anything! Your energy is a pure, primordial source that can be channeled in any direction!"
He rushed to one of the shelves and retrieved a small, dimly glowing crystal.
"A demonic storage artifact. Try it. Just touch it and pour in a little of your power."
Jin took the crystal. It was cold and nearly lifeless. He focused, directing a light impulse into it. The crystal instantly blazed with bright light, vibrated, and runes that hadn't been there before raced across its facets.
"Incredible..." Azazel whispered. "Full charge in a fraction of a second. Now this."
He handed him a simple wooden cross emanating a faint holy aura.
"Touch it."
Jin touched it. The cross, which should have burned the hand of any being with dark energy, remained completely inert. But when Jin poured his power into it, the wood glowed softly with a golden light, and the aura became several times stronger.
"This... this is simply..." Azazel was at a loss for words. He dashed back to the console. "Alright, enough theory. Time for the most interesting part. Come on."
He led Jin to another part of the laboratory—a spacious, empty room with obsidian walls capable of absorbing any energy discharge. A specially designated testing chamber.
"Now—a test of interaction with pure light force," Azazel announced. "I'll create a small light spear. Your task is not to destroy it, but simply... hold it. Let's see how your body reacts to direct contact."
He concentrated, and a blindingly yellow clot of light flared in his hand, quickly elongating into a meter-long, vibrating spear.
"Here."
Jin extended his hand and easily took the weapon. It was almost weightless, warm like a sunbeam, and vibrated faintly, as if alive. No discomfort. No rejection. He calmly held in his hand what would be deadly poison for any devil. Seeing this, Azazel whistled in admiration and began rapidly scribbling on his tablet.
Jin, meanwhile, decided to go further. He studied the spear closely. It was beautiful, but... imperfect. Somehow... crude. If his energy was universal, if it could feed anything... what would happen if, instead of destroying it, he... supplemented it?
He concentrated. Instead of activating his "Code: Unknown," which erased any magic, he did the opposite. He directed a thin, barely perceptible stream of his own energy into the spear. This process immediately caught Azazel's attention. He froze, his eyes locked onto Jin's hand; he watched with fascination, afraid to interfere.
Jin felt his energy penetrating the structure of the light weapon, intertwining with its foundation. He wasn't breaking it. He was connecting, feeding it directly, rewriting the source code.
And the spear began to change.
The blindingly yellow color, characteristic of Fallen weapons, began to pale, receding from Jin's hand. It was replaced by another—a pure, cold, white-platinum light, far brighter and more intense. The radiance became so powerful that Azazel had to squint. The spear itself began to elongate, its form becoming more elegant, sharper; fine, glowing patterns resembling frost designs on glass emerged on the blade.
Jin stopped when the spear in his hand had transformed into a true work of art—a meter-and-a-half blade of pure, unearthly light, exuding an aura of absolute, undeniable holiness. Azazel, shaken to the core, slowly approached. And immediately recoiled, as if hitting an invisible wall.
"Kh... What the..." He felt his skin burning, his Fallen essence howling in agony.
The sensation was familiar—that was how devils reacted to holy water or crosses. But this was... dozens of times stronger. The closer he got to Jin holding the new spear, the more unbearable the pain became. His dark feathers seemed to scream.
He understood. Jin hadn't simply altered the spear. He had purified it. He had turned the "tainted" holy power of a Fallen Angel into something... absolute. Pure light, unbearable for any, even the slightest, impurity of darkness. A light that could, likely, incinerate a High-class devil with a single touch.
Jin, noticing the strange expression on Azazel's face, glanced at the spear, then at him, and understood everything. He clenched his hand. With a quiet chime, the spear dissolved into myriads of glowing particles and vanished.
Back in the laboratory, Azazel was deeply pensive. He poured himself a glass of "Ash," downed it in one gulp, and looked seriously at Jin.
"Your power... it's dangerous. Incredibly dangerous, especially for devils. If the ruling elite of the Underworld learns what you're capable of... you'll become their number one enemy. A target to be destroyed at any cost."
He stepped up close to Jin.
"Join Grigori, Jin. Under my wing, you'll be safe. We'll study your power, teach you to control it. We'll give you resources, knowledge, protection. You won't survive alone. Sooner or later, they'll come for you."
Jin calmly met his gaze.
"I already knew I was an outsider. In your world, and in the human world," he shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, Azazel. But I'm not looking for protection."
"But..."
"Is there anything else you found?" Jin cut him off, his voice firm. "Anything concerning... me."
Azazel, though disappointed by the refusal, understood that pressing the issue was futile. For now. He sighed and nodded toward the console.
"Yes. There is something."
He pulled up the image captured the previous night. A schematic human figure, at the center of which blazed an azure, flame-like sphere—Jin's soul. It was bright, powerful, but that wasn't the strangest part. From its very center, like the roots of a tree or a microchip, a complex, nanotechnological pattern spread in all directions.
"This is your spiritual state," Azazel said quietly. "I compared it to others. A devil's soul is crimson, an angel's—golden, a human's—pale, almost transparent. But yours... it's different. And this pattern..."
He enlarged the image, zooming in on one of the "roots." It became visible that it consisted of myriads of tiny, barely distinguishable dots, moving slowly, circulating, like platelets in blood.
"This isn't fiction, Jin. Each of these... let's call them nanomachines... represents something like a miniature, primitive Sacred Gear. They're all connected, working as a single system."
He restored the previous image. The technological grooves could be seen slowly but inexorably spreading further, encompassing an ever-larger portion of the azure flame of the soul.
"But that's not the main thing," Azazel's voice grew grave. "Conducting a deep analysis, I found something else. In these nanomachines... a blueprint of another soul is already embedded. Different from yours. It's similar to how Ddraig's soul is sealed within Issei's gauntlet. Only here... it's built into your very essence."
Jin stared at the screen and understood everything. The dreams. The "Ghost's" voice. The foreign emotions.
"The power I received along with this body..." thoughts flooded his mind at breakneck speed. "It didn't just enhance me. It's trying to... displace my own soul. Replace it with the original personality. It's overwriting me."
He raised a heavy, composed gaze to Azazel.
"Can it be stopped?"
Azazel slowly shook his head.
"Jin... what's happening to you... shouldn't even be possible in principle. It's beyond the scope of everything I know. I... I have no idea how to stop it. Or if it even can be."