The Hunt Never Ends

By: Bubbajack

Beta: Diller, Grammarly, William Wiltrose

Disclaimer: I do not own Bloodborne, or Soul Eater. They belong to their respective owners.

Ch.1: The Hunt Continues.

'It was supposed to be a simple trip to visit a long lost relative. How did it come to this?' Soul 'Eater' Evans couldn't help but think to himself as he stood in a field of white lilies, over a blood mooned sky, in the background the crackling of fire, coming from a church burning could be heard.

It seemed like an eternity ago since he left Death City, traveling to the hinterlands of Germany upon receiving an elegantly written letter to come to a castle known as Cainhurst. According to the contents of the letter, it lay on the outskirts of an unknown city called Yharnam. It also had mentioned something known as 'Paleblood' at the time, he had no idea what that was. Had he known what terrible horrors and unforgettable truths he would uncover in that city, he never would've let Maka convince him to go in the first place.

For, instead of a sprawling castle overlooking a nice hamlet, he found a city chock to the brim with blood crazed psychopaths, one of which saw fit to knock him out then give him a much unwanted blood transfusion. A transfusion that connected him to the Hunter's Dream, where he now stood. Blood, which unleashed the bestial madness within men, turning the weak willed into Beasts, or in the case of some like his 'Aunt' vampires.

He then began a terrible adventure. One that took him into the depths of the earth, fighting pre-human Pthumerians. Against a clan of witches that had taken the proverb "The eyes are the windows to the soul" too literally, to the dreams of madmen, blood addled Hunters, and ascendant gods. Through it all, he learned, bit by bloody horrifying bit, the Truth. The Truth of Madness. The Eldritch Truth. And with understanding, came a new type of Madness…

Now, he was at the end of the road, and on the ground before him; lay his mentor who was slowly breathing his last breaths. The person he depended on at the beginning of this mess, yet the deeper he delved into the mysteries surrounding Yharnam, the more he understood that this man was more a prisoner than he of this Dream.

The 'He' Soul was referring to was Gehrman, the First Hunter, a white-haired wizened man clad in Victorian-era clothing consisting of a hat, brown coat over a shirt and vest, brown slacks, and a simple loafer on his left foot, his right being replaced with a wooden leg. Gehrman lay on the ground, heaving with exertion, covered in his own blood. Getting on his knees, Soul took the old man's hand, so as to hear his last words.

"You, have done well, boy." He gave the albino's hand a weak squeeze before he continued, "But there is one last challenge…to win, you must…you must see. Look beyond the Moon…The Night and the Dream…were long."

With those last words, Gehrman, the First Hunter was finally put to rest. Standing, shaking the blood off of his cloak, he reached within his pockets and pulled out a long, thin, organic cord. All along its length it was covered in bloodshot eyeballs. Without a moments pause, he devoured the Three-Thirds of Umbilical Cord, suppressing a groan as the sudden headache action brought on, he then glared ready and defiant, at the Blood-Moon.

The tentacle headed, faceless, skeletal creature that appeared from the sky could be nothing less than a Great One. This…Moon Presence, would fall just like Amygdala, Ebritas, and Mergo's Wet-Nurse. Picking up the blade of his fallen master, while placing the haft on his back, Evans fired a single shot from Evelyn, to act as both warning and challenge to the creature. The Great One him like a savage animal his warning going unheeded…his challenge accepted. After fighting the likes of Father Gascoigne, Henryk, Lady Maria, Gehrman, and even the source of the Hunter's Nightmare, the Orphan of Kos, all of which were truly skilled opponents, this Great One was weak by comparison.

It thrashed around like a mindless Beast, galloping on all fours and swiping at him with clawed hands, while occasionally letting out a rain of blood, which he wisely avoided, or bellowed out a shriek akin to a Cleric Beast that could likely shatter glass. After all the blood and terror he'd gone through to get to this point, he was none too impressed to find that this creature was the one pulling his strings.

Soul easily weaved through its rain of Paleblood, before slashing at it with his fallen master's blade, the flesh tore easily from its hindquarters letting silver droplets of its own lifeblood nourish the flowers beneath it. He was so intent on making the source of all the misery he had witnessed, some of which he had caused either knowingly or unknowingly, that he didn't even care when the Moon Presence slapped him away, making his body ragdoll across the ground. Spitting out a glob of silvery blood, the albino picked himself up and with a battle cry rushed back into the fray. The Old One lunged at him as well intent to crush the life, and the blood echoes out of him.

But Soul was waiting for it to do this. With a smirk plastered on his face, he raised Evelyn and fired, stunning the creature for just a moment. A moment was all he needed however for he bum rushed the Great One, tossing the blade aside and burying his fist deep into its skull reaching for its grey matter. Unable to force his arm fully through the Eldritch Beings' flesh, he tore his arm out, causing a massive spay of silver blood and hurling the Moon Presence backwards.

Not wasting the opportunity, Soul leapt atop the Great One, snapping the blade to the haft of the weapon as he did so, turning the Trick Weapon into a scythe, a weapon he was oh so familiar with. Raising the Burial Blade above his head, the albino Hunter prepared to deliver a killing stroke, only to be thrown back, pierced in the chest by a mass of tentacles, even as he gored the abominable creature in the head, losing his grip on the blade in the process.

'I got arrogant. And it might've just cost me my life. Not cool.' Soul thought to himself as he reached within the folds of his duster before injecting himself with the final three remaining Blood Vials he had from his previous fight with Gehrman.

He managed to push himself to his feet just in time to see a red light flash from within the hollow hole that counted as the Moon Presence's face. Then, he felt it. His strength, no more than that, his very will to fight, to live, was being drained from him. Suddenly the idea of laying on the ground felt very inviting as his limbs felt leaded and heavy. His breathing labored, his eyes blurry, his mind fuzzy…

In his mind's eye, flashed a trio of faces. An intellectual looking girl with dirty-blonde hair and pale-green eyes.

A dark-haired girl, her hair also in pigtails hanging out in strands, which were in sharp contrast to her indigo colored eyes.

Next came a short-haired blonde, sky-blue eyes filled with childlike curiosity, a cowboy hat on her head.

A violet-haired witch with amber catlike eyes appeared in his mind's eye next smirking seductively.

Then

Lastly was her face. One that he would always remember even if he slipped into the deepest throes of mania. Tall, voluptuous, and clad in a pale-yellow Qipao her jet-black hair trailing behind her tied in a ponytail. Ever kind, ever caring, ever willing to lend an ear and listen to his woes.

Souls' eyes snapped open and his body went ridged as he thought of how close he came to losing them all. Forever. His eyes narrowing at the Moon Presence, which still had Gehrman's blade embedded in its skull, the albino came to a decision.

'Time to end this.' He thought. He had wanted to end this with Gehrman's weapon, as a sign of respect to the First Hunter. Yet he realized there was a difference between being a scythe used by another and using a scythe himself. If he had a week, he felt he could master the weapon himself. But Soul didn't have a week, just a scant few seconds until the Great One recovered and finished him off. And so, he drew his favored weapons, the Kris-curved Bowblade of Simon and Evelyn. Loading the firearm with Bone Marrow Ash, he also loaded a couple of quicksilver bullets into the Tiny Tonitrus, and charged. Knowing only one of them would be leaving this Dream, this Nightmare, alive.

He fired Evelyn grinning in savage fury as the bone ash and blood infused bullet struck home, stunning the bestial Great One, granting him hope, and a second wind. He knew he couldn't let up however and continued his relentless assault. Jumping forwards, he stabbed the Hunter Tool into the ground unleashing an arc of lightning that charred the Eldritch Being's hide and it let out a piteous moan akin to that of whale song. He felt no pity for this creature however, for it more than any other of its kind was the source of he Hunts. The Hunts that caused the death of so many… Gascoigne, Henryk, Viola and her children, Vicar Amelia, Ludwig, Maria, and who knows how many others. His thoughts filled with the faces of the dead, Soul morphed the blade into its Greatbow form, extending the hidden second blade downwards which automatically strung the weapon. Firing of shots made solely of congealed blood and infused with moonlight, he dashed towards the Great One.

The blood bullets impacted with the force of sniper rounds against the Great One's chitins hide. Once he was close enough, he used the ancient Hunter Art of Quickening to dash behind the Beast, his Bowblade now closed and covered viscera. Seconds later, the now headless body of the Moon Presence, scissored off by the Hunter's transformation attack, collapsed into the earth, all the while reaching for him desperately. As he watched the Great One's body begin to dissolve into so much mist, Soul began to laugh.

"I did it! It's over, this Hunt, this Nightmare, it's finally, finally over…so cool." He sighed to himself in relief.

Then, he felt it. It started at the base of his neck, the pain. But it grew rapidly, from a slight discomfort, to a migraine, to whiplash to feeling as if his skull was about to physically burst open. Soul began screaming, begging for the torment to cease. He could feel his Soul Wavelength fluctuating out of his control, and growing more and more powerful more potent by then second. It was too much, it was just too much for a mere human body to contain…So he stopped trying…

His let his Soul Wavelength burst out of him like an explosion. After it was all over he felt different, changed. Everything around him felt sharper, in higher focus. He could now see strange colors he had no name for, he could see the sound of the Doll approaching from behind him each flower giving off a small pealing note. Smell now had color, hearing shape. Yet, despite all this new sensory information, one thing he found he couldn't do, was move.

He felt and saw the Doll wrap her arms around him before bringing him up to her eye level. Now, looking at her face, he could tell how truly exquisite her craftsmanship was. Her hair shined like gossamer strands in the moonlight, her eyes, a beautiful aquamarine, looked at him with motherly concern. This concern was voiced when she asked "Are you cold, Dear Hunter?"

'Cold, no not really. I would like to know why I can't move though.' He thought to himself.

Much to his surprise, the Doll answered him, "Dear Hunter, you have Transcended the Hunt and found Paleblood. You have become an infant Great One. That is why you cannot walk."

'I'm a Great One?' Soul thought with fear evident in his tone.

Smiling, the Doll nodded replying, "Indeed Good Hunter. If what I have gleaned while channeling your acquired Blood Echoes is correct, this was the goal of both those at Byrgenwerth, The Church, and even your own kin at Cainhurst was it not? You have succeeded where they all failed…Is that, not a good thing?" she queried, confused by his fear.

'I-I never sought to ascend to a Great One, Doll. I just wanted to stop the Hunt, and the mad experiments' of the Church and Byrgenwerth once I found out what they were doing…what they had done, in the name of 'science'.' He said in distaste, Soul's thoughts drifting ever so briefly to Medusa, and the Snake Witches own experimentation with Black Blood, which led to his infection and the rise of Little Ogre in his Soul. Thankfully ever since his transfusion he seen hide nor hair of the foul little cretin. Soul was hopeful that it meant he had gone the way of the dodo.

His memories turned from sour to sweet as he recalled his friends back at DWMA. Maka, Black Star, Liz, Patty, Kidd, Kim, Lord…Death…

With a start, he realized, his Hunt was not over. If his estimation was correct, there were at least five more Great Ones that needed to be hunted down. Possibly more if Death Weapons could be counted as Kin…

'Woah, hold on a minute there Evans, you're talking about killing Shinigami-sama, your friend's dad… possibly his son too if he is a threat…The hell was that? That thought, it wasn't mine, was it?'

He thought about all he knew about the Great Ones. Though they were a race, each individual one appeared to be unique physically. In essence, each Great One could be considered the Progenitor of its own species. Animals he knew from watching Discovery Planet with Maka, would fight each other over resources in a given area, to assure their kind not only survived but thrived. However, due to each Great One being its own singular unique entity, procreation was a nigh impossible process. Even a slim chance of begetting an heir required mating with humans, most of whom lacked the ability to bear the infant Great One to term…except, for those of certain bloodlines.

It gave him an idea but that was something to ponder another time. For now, he had more immediate concerns, like walking for example.

'Evetta.' He addressed the Doll by the name he gave her, prompting her to focus her gaze on him. 'Is there some way I can regain human form?'

"I can only speculate Good Hunter, but if you are now a Great One, and as such just like others of your kind, would you also be able to shape the world around you according to your thoughts? Including how you look?" Evetta inquired.

'Good idea lemme give it a shot.' He replied. He focused on himself how he looked before…or at least, how he envisioned he looked. Mist surrounded his form and when it cleared Soul felt… human again for lack of a better term.

'Mirror, I need a mirror.' He thought wanting to take in his appearance. The Dream's denizens reacted to their new Lord's whims. From a pool of Paleblood a full length mirror was hoisted out of the ground by the Messengers. These voiceless, yet disturbing looking infantile creatures smiled at him as they held up the mirror, giving their signature hollow laugh.

Instead of taking in his appearance in the mirror, he turned a suspicious gaze back and forth from the Doll to the 'little ones' as she called them. For he remembered walking the Nightmare of Mensis and the most horrifying creatures therein. It was not Amygdala that filled him with fear, for Rom had already fallen by his hand by that point. No, it was the Winter Lanterns, twisted fused perversions of both the Messengers and the Doll, a mass of childlike corpses and eyes, carrying the same lamp that brought him back and forth to his one sanctuary…The Hunter's Dream.

He had already been slightly suspicious of the Doll seeing as it cried tears of white blood. Something that is 'just a doll' like she claimed wouldn't be able to do that. No matter what it may have felt.

Stepping away from the mirror, and calmly putting his hand on the hilt of his Chikage, Soul asked, "Doll…What are you, what are you really? And don't say just a doll because if that was the case, you wouldn't be able to cry. And unless I'm wrong after killing both Gehrman and the Moon Presence, the Hunter's Dream should've collapsed with neither Gehrman's memories to give it shape and the power of the Moon Presence to make it corporeal. Also, when I found the Old Hunter's Workshop, I didn't find Gehrman's corpse anywhere acting as an anchor to the Dream in the physical world…but I did find yours."

Clapping her hands, the Doll replied happily, "You have become oh so very wise my Dear Hunter. You are correct, Gehrman was not the Host of the Dream, I am. Allow me to explain. It was after the burning of Old Yharnam by the Powder Kegs that the time of Hunters working in the shadows was over. The Healing Church had decided to take a more direct hand in dealing with the Beastly Scourge. This meant Gehrman and his secret, hidden Workshop was no longer needed. Due to his perceived betrayal by Lady Maria, he began constructing the Doll not wishing to be alone. He took such good care of her over the years, that the Doll wished to fulfill Gehrman's desire, though it was inanimate and could not move nor voice this heartfelt wish."

The Doll paused for a moment, giving her Dear Hunter a moment to digest all she said, before she continued, "I heard her plea, and as it would also benefit myself, I offered to create this Hunter's Dream as a refuge for both the Doll and Gehrman."

"And? You said you benefited too. What did you get in return?" Soul asked the Doll.

Bowing slightly, the Doll replied, "A physical form."

Then, it all clicked into place for the Cainhurst albino. Seeing the look of surprise on his face the Doll covered her face, to mask her giggling before she said, "You seem to have figured it out my Dear Hunter. Tell me, who am I?"

"Oedon. Your Formless Oedon."

Again the Doll clapped happily, clearly pleased by his deduction, "Yes indeed my Dear Hunter."

This raised a while slew of questions however, "Ok, if that's the case, and you're the one who created the Hunter's Dream, then what does the Moon Presence have to do with all this? Why the Hunts? What are the Messengers and why…just why?"

The newborn Great One was stunned silent by Odeon's reply, "She was mine and Gehrman's child. Born here, in the Hunter's Dream. Gehrman upon seeing what he gave rise to, rejected both her and myself. Luna wanting to gain her father's approval, collected the Bastards of Loran, the Messengers as you know them, and had them look for those who could resist the call of the Beast Within, and made them Hunters. Those that would seek to stop the Scourge of Beasts. This is what she thought he father wanted, purpose."

Yet the Doll, Oedon, shook her head and replied, "T'was not so. Gehrman came to see the Dream, and the constant Hunts he had to oversee, as a cruel Curse. He did not wish the life of a Hunter upon anyone else, especially the unwilling. So should a Hunter fall to the lure of Blood or wish to cease the Hunt, Gehrman would oblige them. Ending their life here in the Dream, and allowing them to live again, to find their worth in the Waking World."

"Curse the Fiends and all their children, and their children too. Curse them all, and curse them forever true." He said, quoting a voice he heard upon being taken into the Hunter's Nightmare by an Amygdala.

Though he whispered this, it carried upon the air, and the Doll nodded, confirming his suspicions. "Indeed, for it was there in the Fishing Hamlet of Innsmuth, that the Curse of Blood started. For, we are sympathetic to humans. And Byrgenwerth, upon discovering them and their contact with the Great One Kos, tortured and killed them all. Drilling open their skulls in search of eyes. It was this act that brought about the Wrath of Kos, the Curse of Blood, The Plague of Beasts. I believe Gehrman, being that he was the First Hunter, was reminded of this savagery he no doubt took part in every time he was forced to send another Hunter out on the Night of the Hunt."

Soul's mood soured at the thought of Gehrman being a part of the Fishing Hamlet Massacre. In truth, he should've seen it coming, Gehrman being the very First Hunter, it was likely he was indeed part of the group of Byrgenwerth scholars who cursed all that came after them. He felt only slightly less sorry for the man then. Did he do something horrendous? Yes. Does that mean he has to see that same mistake repeated over and over again for how many centuries'? No, he may have lost his respect for Gehrman but he was glad he could put the man to rest.

His thoughts returned once again to the Doll. She was Odeon herself, he had just killed the closest thing she had to both a husband and a daughter, and yet… "You don't hate me? I killed your husband and daughter, and you don't despise me with all your being?" he said unconvinced.

"Oh Dear Hunter, when Gehrman abandoned her, Dearest Luna abandoned me in turn. All but forgetting about me in her own Hunt for her Father's approval. I lost my Child years ago."

Soul felt saddened for the Great One, only for his mind to blank when he heard her say cheerily, "But now, everything is better! You have finally come! A Hunter with both the strength and courage to evolve into a newborn Great One, one with the courage to end poor Gehrman, and the strength to oppose Luna."

"Surrogate." Soul muttered to himself.

"Hmm?" the Doll said, catching his muttering once again.

Resisting the urge to smack himself, Soul replied, "From what I've come to understand by consuming the Cord of the Eye, each Great One has trouble conceiving a child and thus, longs for a surrogate. Though in the case of the Moon Presence-uh, Luna it was different. It didn't want a child, it wanted its father's approval. Which leaves us, the Hunters. We, I, am your surrogate child."

"Yes, and? Is that so wrong? Look me in the eye Dear Hunter and tell me that my desire for a child is wrong." The Doll, Oedon all but demanded of him.

He locked his crimson eyes with her silver one's intending to do just that, only to stop when he saw the unshed tears of quicksilver gathered around her eyes. His thoughts then turned back to his struggle through Yharnam, and how the Doll was always willing to aid him. Either with by channeling his blood echoes, or doing something as simple as offering him a warm smile and a kind word upon his return to the Dream after a time of Hunting.

'If I did this now, I would be breaking a woman's heart. And that, right up there with betrayal is definitely not cool.' And so sighing he told her, "Fine, I won't say that. But I will say that you shouldn't expect me to call you mom or anything like that. It's just not cool."

Once again, the Doll raised a hand in front of her mouth in a failed attempt to silence her giggling fit. Upon seeing the dour look she was being given, the Great One managed to calm herself enough to say, "I am sorry my Dearest Hunter, I just find it so adorable when you act like that."

"Glad I amuse you." He said sourly before he stepped up to the mirror and finally gave himself a once over.

Soul was very much surprised to find he looked much like Wes did when he last saw him. His hair was now longer, coming down over his eyes, and extending just below his neck in the back. He was also lankier, having filled out and become less stocky then previously. He felt like a whip or a snake, all corded muscle ready to strike. He was still clad in his preferred Hunter's uniform, the Cainhurst styled uniform of Maria minus her hat which he replaced with the Beast-fur trimmed hat of Djura.

Satisfied with his look, he began making his way out of the lumenflower field, toward the headstones. Specifically, the one that would take him to his oh so distant relative's throne room.

Teleporting in from the Dream always felt odd to Soul, even now with his ascension to Great One status. When transitioning from one place to another, there was a sense of weightlessness, and he felt his stomach drop out from under him as if he were riding an elevator, and then, all at once it came back. Gravity as well as his stomach which always made him feel slightly nauseous. Taking a moment to let his stomach settle, he found himself once more in Annalise's throne room. Giant statues, all half shrouded in shadows due to the sparse candles spread throughout the throne room greeted him. He took a moment to admire the décor something he sadly couldn't do very often in Yharnam due to constantly being on high alert for both blood-crazed villagers, Mad Hunters, and Beasts. Finally taking his fill of the statues, he approached the ring of candles and bowed respectfully to his several times great-aunt.

Upon seeing him she spoke, "Ah, Henaid, you return to us. We worried for your safety nephew."

Sighing, Soul said, "Annalise, we've been over this. Please don't call me that."

"Why doth thou hate thine name, tis your proper name tis it not?" the Queen queried.

Taking a standing position yet staying within the circle of candles, the white-haired hunter replied "My name is Soul not Henaid."

The masked queen replied pointedly, "Thine last name is of Welsh origin. Thus, thine's first name should also be such. Also, thine is the last of the Vilebloods' along with mine self, and a proper name one befitting royalty is needed."

For the second time in what felt like a very short while, Soul felt himself surrendering to the whims of a woman. "Fine, call me what you want. I didn't come here to argue with you about my name anyway."

"Verily, what brings thine into our presence today?" Annalise asked.

His smirk hidden under the shadow of his tricorn cap, he replied, "I have become a Child of Blood."

The Vileblood Queen stat ramrod straight staring at him in silence for a moment before she asked in a tone that seemed to physically ache to know, "How?"

"By doing what a Hunter does best, hunting. I kept hunting until there was nothing left to Hunt. Beasts, the Blood-crazed, even the Great Ones fell to me."

"And so, soaked in blood you ascended." Annalise finished, before slumping in her throne, seemingly defeated.

She jerked slightly when she felt her nephew's hand land upon hers. Looking up and through the slits of her accursed helm she saw him smiling kindly at her, his crimson eyes were full of warmth, and understanding.

"C'mon, let's get outta here. Whatdaya say?"

Soul could feel his distant relative's surprise even with the mask on. "Leave Castle Cainhurst? Our home?"

"Your prison." Soul corrected before he said gently "There is nothing left for you here Annalise. I slew the cause of the Blood Moon, and thus, your chance of being chosen to bear a Child of Blood."

Annalise Queen of the Vileblood's sighed before musing aloud, "I should be cross at you for that. Yet, we cannot find it within ourselves to be so. Such is our melancholy."

"Maybe this will cheer you up." Soul then bit his thumb and ran his now pale silver blood down the side of Annalise's helm. Nothing happened that the Queen could tell. But then, she noticed a peculiar scent. The scent of a Hunter, but it was much more pungent. Feeling a weight lift from her shoulders, Annalise looked down noticing several pale white flower petals in her lap. To her left, she could feel Henaid dusting more of the petals from her hair.

'Wait.' The queen felt around for her mask. An item that had been just as much a cage as being sealed in her throne room by that Church fanatic Logarius years prior. Much to her astonishment, she found that the accursed thing was gone.

"How?" she mouthed.

Smirking a bit, Soul replied cockily, "I decided to see if I like other Great Ones could affect the world around them by existing. I can affect reality to my will."

Soul then focused on a faraway statue, attempting to turn it into something else, only for nothing to happen, "Lame, it looks like I need to be in direct contact with what I want to effect."

Looking back towards his distant ancestor he beheld her face for the first time. She, like himself possessed pale skin but hers was pallid and corpselike. Her face was aristocratic with high sharp cheek bones, blood red pale lips, and black eyes that seemed to twinkle as if they held the light of the cosmos themselves.

Chuckling slightly he said, "There, now I can see the family resemblance. So, you ready to get outta here?"

A smile gracing her face for the first time in many moons, the Vileblood matriarch replied to her fellow kinsman "Verily."

Offering his 'Aunt' his arm he said "Right this way then."

(…)

The last remaining Vilebloods soon found themselves within the Hunter's Dream. Annalise marveled at the Church, the overcast sky and the full blood red moon in the sky. While she did that, Soul made his way into the Workshop he made his way around back to the Bath Messengers. As he suspected, they held Gehrman's attire. By offering them a little bit of his now momentous amount of insight, he was able to gain the attire of his mentor. He carried the folded garments with reverence to the Great Tree, and hidden under it boughs, changed into the attire of the First Hunter attaching the mans fanglike badge to the makeshift necklace he had around his neck which held all the other Hunter's badges he had gained in his adventure in Yharnam. He may not have agreed with all Gehrman may have done, but he did guide him, in his own way. And thus, the albino decided to honor the man's long vigil in the Dream by wearing his apparel henceforth.

He was greeted by the sight of both Annalise and his newly adopted 'mother' chatting amicably, sitting in the alcove where he first noticed the Doll. The two greeted him with a wave as he approached, and the Doll, 'I really should just think of her as Oedon I suppose.' Soul thought to himself, was the first to comment on his change in apparel.

She said, with neither approval nor distaste in her tone, merely a statement of fact. "Dearest Hunter, you have clothed yourself in the vestments of Gehrman."

"Yeah, he's been looking over this place, these Hunts for who knows how long. I figured he deserved to be honored somehow, regardless of what he did in the past. Anything less on my part just wouldn't be cool." Soul told her with a shrug. "So what were you two talking about before I showed up?"

"You Dearest Hunter." The Doll began only for Annalise to finish, "Or more specifically you're rather complicated love life."

This statement caused the Hunter to frown and send a half-hearted glare the two women's way before he stuck his hands in the pockets of his old mentor's slacks and, marched hunched into the Workshop, muttering as he past, "It's none of your business."

Grasping his arm as he went past, the Vileblood Queen said, "Oh come now Nephew. Tis no reason to be so fraught with rage. Thine's interest in the women of the East is perfectly natural. For we of Cainhurst have had an infatuation with those lands and there people since days gone by." Annalise reminded him as she locked midnight black eyes with his crimson red ones.

Shaking his head and sighing the Newborn Great One replied, "It doesn't matter anyway. It's probably better if I just either stay a bachelor my entire life or better yet, become a hermit someplace far away from people."

Annalise didn't know what possessed him to think such things. She was about to question him on his thoughts when he quite easily pulled his arm out of her grasp and headed silently into the Workshop. Going over to the large coffin where all of his access things were stored within the Dream, Soul silently drew out several Hunter Weapons, a couple of them duplicates he'd found in the Chalice Dungeons. Taking them over to the workbench he began working them over, fortifying them with bits solidified blood he had scavenged from around Yharnam as well as the Tombs of the Gods. He paid extra special care to make sure each weapon was fortified as well as could be.

He had no idea how much time had passed since he began his work, as, here in the Hunter's Dream, time was meaningless, as was the need for essential things like food, water, or sleep. Once his task was done, he made his way back out of the Workshop, to find both Oedon and Annalise silently waiting for him.

Before either of them could speak, he held up a hand and said, "Just forget about it, ok? Let's just…let's just get outta here."

The women gave their silent ascent, before standing and walking over to the Hunter who seemed to be staring at the gravestones in thought.

"Hmm, how to get to Death City from the Dream?" he pondered aloud. He was vexed for a moment before he had an idea. Drawing one of the non-poisoned throwing knives he kept on his person, he sliced his palm, allowing his Paleblood to drip onto the ground in the shape of a rather large Hunter's Mark. Looking the rune over to make sure it was correctly shaped, he beckoned the two women forwards to join him on the glyph. Soul then thought of Death City, specifically the apartment building that he Maka rented.

Oh so slowly he felt his physical form fade, his last conscious thought was 'I wonder how Maka and the others have been doing well since I left.'

(…)

'This is all that punks fault. If he hadn't left, Maka-chan would be fine.' Spirit Albarn thought to himself as he walked down the guillotined hall that lead to Shinigami-sama.

Passing through the last archway, he arrived for the meeting, last as usual. Some of his fellow Death Weapons were giving him disapproving looks, while others shot him looks of sympathy. Standing in from of the Death God, he said in an unapologetic toneless voice, "Sorry I'm late sir."

Shinigami-sama merely waved off his apology, saying "Think nothing of it Spirit-kun…how is Maka-chan doing, any better?" he asked concernedly.

The Death Weapon merely shook his head to the side and grunted, "No, no change."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully she'll recover soon….Anyway, onto the reason for today's meeting. As you know there has been an increase of Madness all over the world lately from as of yet unknown circumstances. According to Dr. Stein, this Madness is unlike any we've ever encountered before."

Taking that as his queue, Stein stepped forwards, turning the crank in his head as he did so, before saying, "Correct Shinigami-sama, this Madness has no identifiable cause. It clearly isn't coming from the Kishin as he is still locked below in the Alter of Madness. What we do know however is that this particular Madness seems to give rise to Werewolves of the Immortal Clan."

Clearing his throat and fixing his spectacles Stein continued, "From what I've read in reports, the increase in Werewolf sighting has increased six-hundred percent around the world, with the highest density being found somewhere in Europe. As you all know, those of the immortal Clan are notoriously hard to kill. It was only due to the Eight Warlords banning together that the threat the Immortal Clan represented became a distant memory. However, due to the increasingly frequent encounters with these creatures over the past two years, all Students of the DWMA have been recalled, and have not been allowed outside of Death City for the past year. This has in turn lead to an increase in Afreet, and Witch activity."

"We know all this already Stein, get to the point, will you?" she groused.

Both Death Weapon and Meister glared at one another from over the rims of their respective glasses for a moment, lightning sparking in their gazes, before Stein merely sighed and said, "My point is Azusa, that due to the information that has been provided, I these new Werewolves are a different breed entirely."

"What makes you say that Stein?" Spirit, Steins old partner questioned.

"From what I've been told, all of your attacks on these creatures were ineffective, correct?" the Mad Scientist asked.

Nodding the Gunbow retorted, "Yes but as you yourself just claimed, harming one of the Immortal Clan is difficult."

Shaking his head, Stein retorted, "No, I said they were hard to kill there is a difference. According to reports from the Dark Times verified by Shinigami-sama himself, those of the Immortal Clan could be wounded, but they healed incredibly quickly. Whereas these new Werewolves by contrast, do not even seem to be affected by Soul Wavelengths. Aside from Madness that is."

A long and heavy silence descended on those present. Eventually, it was broken by Marie Mjolnir who voiced what everyone else was thinking, "If they are not of the Immortal Clan, then what are they Stein?"

The mad scientist pushed his glasses up, causing them to flash before he replied, "I don't know. I honestly don't know."

That chilled the Hammer Death Weapon to the bone. For the analytical Stein to not have the answer to such a quandary troubled her greatly. She was reassured after he took a drag off his newly-lit cigarette and said, "But I'm sure with time and some firsthand study, I can figure it out."

"Shinigami-sama!" Azusa said sharply and out of the blue, "Three people have just entered Death City via magic."

"Yes, I feel them." He told the group. 'One is very strong. The other two as well feel off…'

Sir, should we intercept them?" Sid Barret asked his skin the color of a corpse due to zombification, a bandana covering the hole in his head inflicted by Shalaua Gorgon.

'That powerful Soul Wavelength, it feels so familiar. It is, could it possibly be?!' he thought.

"Sir?" Sid asked attempting to get an answer to his question.

Shaking himself out of his daze, the Death God replied, "No, there's no need. They'll come to us."

Several of the Death Weapons felt like protesting, yet held their tongues. For if Shinigami-sama wasn't worried, why should they?

(…)

Soul felt himself solidify along with Annalise and the Doll. Looking around, he was happy to see he had arrived exactly where he'd intended, and the sun was just beginning to set. He stood right outside of his and Maka's apartment, yet he noticed immediately that something was wrong, as there was no warm inviting light coming from Maka's window, and for her to be out this late was unusual. He then noticed that the glass window that was his room had been boarded up, slash marks coved the wall, and cracks as well as holes were all over the street making him think some kind of battle had taken place. Deciding to get to the bottom of this, he headed into the lobby of the apartment. Seeing Edgar, the slightly portly man in his late fifties with his bulbous nose and greying hair who ran the place wasn't present, Soul rang the service bell.

He waited a moment before dinging it again. He was about to do so a third time when he heard Edgars hoarse voice call out from the back, "Hang on a mo' and I'll be right wit'cha."

Soul silently waited then and a few seconds later Edgar arrived out of the backroom in which he slept. His hair looked greyer, and had gone white on the sides, and he seemed to have gained a bit more weight, as well as a few more worry lines on his brow, and his dark grey eyes seemed almost forced shut by the wrinkles his brow had accumulated since the Hunter had seen him last.

"Now, whut can Ah do for ya-"Edgar's sentence died in his throat as he saw who stood at his front desk, his brow forced up through sheer surprise he managed to get out. "Yung Maser Soul, is that you sir?"

In response, Soul took off his hat, and nodded respectfully to the elderly apartment renter. "It's been awhile Ed, how ya been?"

A smile lit the old man's face as he replied, "Well bless my soul, It is you! We all took you fer dead, especially Mrs. Albarn. Where you been these last three years lad?"

Seeing the look of shock cross the boy's face, the landlord asked "Yung Maser, is every'thin well?"

In response, Soul uttered out, "D-Did you just say three years Ed."

The apartment manager nodded, "Aye, that I did…Yung Maser did you truly have no idea you been gone all this time?" he asked fretfully.

Soul nodded, thinking 'Three years…I've been gone three years. It…it felt like a single night. What's happened since I've been gone? Has Maka found a new Demon Weapon to partner with, has Black Star ascended Tsubaki to a Death Weapon, did anyone find out Kim is a Witch?' These and many more questions raced around the albino Great One's skull just begging to be answered.

Seeing the young man in distress, Edgar came from around the desk and pulled a comfortable armchair from the fireplace and eased the young man into it. He then hustled into the back room and came back out with a steaming cup of green tea soon after. Presenting it to the albino, he said, "Here, sip at this. It'll calm yer nerves."

Edgar was right, sipping at the tea did calm his nerves. After he'd settled some, the proprietor posed a question, "Where you been all this time Yung Maser?"

Soul was silent for a moment before he finally said, "I've been slogging my way through a horrible Nightmare. One full of blood and fangs, victory and loss, but mostly loss. Only two companions and I were able to make it out alive"

The elder of the two men nodded sagely, "That bad eh?"

The haunted look in the boys' crimson eyes said it all. Clapping him on the shoulder, the landlord said, "You can rest easy now lad, yer back amongst the livin'. But I suppose you'd like to know what's happened in yer absence, yeah?"

Seeing him nod, the man replied, "Just a tick then."

Edgar then moseyed over to the entrance where he found both Annalise and the Doll standing just outside his door. He beckoned them inside saying, C'min, C'min. warm yer'selves by the fire. Have a cuppa tea. No point in standin' out there in the loomin' dark and cold. Es'pecially now a'days."

In short order the two women were served tea and shortbread cookies. Once all were situated, the man began to speak, "Now, you be wonderin' wot happened since ya left. Les's see here…Well, the most important thin' I can think of is the re-emergence of the Immortal Clan, about oh, six months after yew left Yung Maser."

"The Immortal Clan?" the albino queried.

Nodding vigorously, Edgar continued, "Aye, Nigh-unkillable werewolves from the way I heard tell of it. According to rumor, they heal so quick their impossible to put down by all but the strongest Meister and Lord Death himself."

This news troubled the young Great One, for these creatures sounded oh too similar to those who had succumbed to the Beastly Scourge back in Yharnam. He felt his heart drop into his stomach with Edgar's next sentence.

"Also the moon dun changed. It's full and red as blood every night now. Strange Ah tell ya, strange."

Rushing from his seat, Soul looked to the west, where a full moon, red like the maddened eye of a Beast was slowly rising over the horizon.

The Bloodmoon.

'It can't be, I stopped it. I stopped the Ritual of Mensis.' Soul thought to himself.

"Yung Maser, is every'thin al'right?"

"Edgar, please show Annalise and…Mrs. Evetta to a three bedroom apartment. Help them get situated and I'll be back soon." The boy replied his tone sharp as steel and cold as arctic ice as he put several coins, solid gold if the landlord wasn't mistaken, on the front desk. He then donned his hat and pulling his black scarf up over his nose before heading out into the twilight.

'It's a shame he didn't stay.' The older man thought, 'I was about to tell him about Mrs. Albarn.'

(…)

Kimial Diehl was many things. Witch and Meister, Healer, and Traitor to her own kind.

'It's strange, I never thought I'd survive if my secret came out, yet here I am, walking down the streets of Death City and not a care in the world…well almost.' She thought as she walked along her Demon Lantern partner, Jacqueline O. Lantern Dupree towards the DWMA girl's dorms. Tsugumi Harudori and her Meisters, Anya Hephbern and Meme Tatane accompanying them. As Kim walked she reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled something out, gazing at it reverently. Seeing her friend's gaze fixed on something in her hand Tsugumi asked, "What's that Kim? A good luck charm you made?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the thought of a Witch doing something to bring good luck, Kim replied, "No, it's…well here."

The NOT Demon Halberd found herself holding an origami heart, painted bright red in what appeared to be permanent marker. What surprised her however, was the paper it was made from. A thousand dollar bill. Giving the Lantern Meister a curious look, was all she needed to do as she hurriedly took the item in question back before saying hurriedly, "Look, it was given to me a long time ago. The person who gave it to me told me that I had a good heart, and that I shouldn't let anything make me think otherwise."

The Halberd gave a surprised, "Oh~! So is that why you…you know, came out like you did?"

Giving the smaller girl a look she replied, "You make it sound like I was a lesbian coming out of the closet…but yeah, that the main reason. Plus it didn't feel right, sitting back doing nothing when others were coming back from the job, being mauled near to death by the Immortal Clan."

Tsugumi nodded remembering the day Kim ousted herself as a Witch…

(…)

It was a temperate November morning. Anya, Meme, Kim, Jacqueline and she were just about to enter the DWMA when they noticed a helicopter coming in for a rapid landing. Curious, they made their way over to the helipad, only to be told to stand aside by Dr. Stein as he rushed two gurneys past them. To their shock and horror, they saw both Ox Ford and Harvar D. Éclair, both of them grievously wounded, to the point that it looked like the only thing holding them together was Dr. Stein's Soul Stitches.

Concerned, we followed them into the hospital as far as the nurses would allow us. Yet, even from here we could hear Dr. Stein shouting commands.

"We need A-positive and B-negative blood in here now."

"Suters, scalpel, get him on a morphine drip…Ok, it looks like Mr. Éclair will be fine now-"

He was cut off by Nygus who called out "Doctor, Ox Ford is coding!"

"Shit! No time for a crash cart. Clear, Soul Menace!" A momentary pause before "Nothing. Clear, Double Soul Menace!" Another pause before, He's still flat lining, ok one last time. Clear, Triple Soul Meance!"

There was a long pause then until they heard Dr. Stein speak with a weary tone in his voice, "We've done all we can. Call it, time of death… 7:15am."

Suddenly Kim was rushing forwards towards Ox and Harvar's operating room. We all followed, watching from the doorway in awed silence as she performed a miracle. Upon seeing her, Dr. Stein said calmly, Mrs. Diehl you can't be in-"

But the pinkette ignored him rushing over to Ox's side she said to his still warm corpse, "I don't like you, not in the way you want me to Ox Ford. But for some reason you're willing to put up with me. So, I guess that makes us friends, and I can't just let a friend die."

She then place both of her hands on his chest and intoned, "Tanunucoon Raccooncoo n Ponpon Ponkitanu Pon Pon Pon."

From her palms, a golden sphere of ethereal light spread until it encapsulated the spear Meister's body. She kept up the glow for several minutes. Even as sweat poured from her brow and fatigue clearly began to set in. She did not let up until Ox Ford drew his first shuddering breath. After which, she let her arms, which probably felt like lead at that point drop, the sphere of light fading along with it.

She took a minute to compose herself, then, she raised her hands above her head before turning around and saying simply, "I surrender."

This seemed to amuse Dr. Stein as he smirked slightly before lighting a cigarette and, placing a hand on the newly confirmed witches shoulder, he said, "Come on Mrs. Diehl, I believe a visit to the Death Room is in order.

To which Kim responded, dryly, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a moment to write out my will would you?"

This cause the mad doctor to chuckle again before taking her by the shoulder and leading her out of the room where we stood apprehensively. Jacqueline stepped forwards fire in her eyes, as she said, "If you're going to arrest Kim, you'll need to arrest me too!"

"Jacqueline what are you doing?!" Kim asked her Demon Weapon.

"What a Demon Weapon is supposed to do, stand by their Meister's side." She replied, never taking her eyes off Stein, as she continued, "I knew about this the entire time, so if you're going to arrest her, you'll need to arrest me as well, got it?"

Shrugging the grey-haired doctor replied, "Fine come along then. What about the rest of you? Shouldn't you be in class?"

I took the liberty of speaking for my Meisters, "We're going with them…as moral support."

"Suit yourselves." Stein said as he led us to the Death Room. Once we were in front of Shinigami-sama's mirror he stepped from it saying cheerfully, "Yo, hi Hiya. What seems to be the trouble Stein?"

I had a feeling Shinigami-sama already knew why we were here, he was just playing dumb. But she stayed silent as Stein said, "Sir, Kim Diehl has just revealed herself to be a witch. I would like your opinion on what to do on the matter."

Using one of his giant Styrofoam-like hands, the Shinigami rubbed the lower half of his mask, where his chin would've been located, for a moment before he asked, "What did she do that caused her to reveal her identity as a witch?"

Stein replied, "She brought her fellow EAT classmate, Ox Ford, back from the dead after I failed to help him myself using conventional methods."

"Hmm, highly unusual…for Magic to be used for anything other than destruction. No doubt other witches didn't take kindly to this. Isn't that right, Kim-chan?

Kim shook her head before saying timidly, "No Shinigami-sama."

Nodding, the Death God, said, "I thought not, do you have anything you'd like to say in your defense?"

This caused Kim's aquamarine colored eyes to flash as she said with a bit of heat, "I have nothing that needs defending! I was born the way I was, I didn't choose this. Besides…" She finished in a quieter tone.

"Hmm?" the Shinigami pressed.

Glaring into the eyeholes of his clown-like mask defiantly, Kim said "Regardless of what happens to me here, even if you destroy my body and take my soul. You can't change what I know."

"Which is?" the Death God inquired.

In response, Kim asked to reach into her pocket, which the Shinigami allowed. She cupped something in her hands, something the rest of us couldn't see. Something I now knew was the heart-shaped piece of origami. Showing it to Lord Death, she said to him, "I know who I am."

The Death God looked at the hidden object cupped in her hands, and then, without warning clapped his oversized palms together before saying, "Ok."

"Ok?" We all echoed.

"She can stay." The Death God declared.

We all sans Dr. Stein, cheered at the news, rushing forward to congratulate our friend. After we'd settled, the Shinigami spoke once again, saying, "However, I would like you to carry a pager to the hospital at all times. Starting now, consider yourself both employed and perpetually on call by the DWMA hospital division."

Saluting, the Tanuki Witch replied, "Yes Sir…but what about my position as Meister?"

"We'll be sure to find time to send you out on missions, but, I feel you would be more useful in a supportive role until we figure out what did this to Ox Ford and Harvard." The Shinigami replied.

Kim nodded silently, before asking, "So uh, can I go to class now?"

"Oh yeah sure! Run along now kids and have a nice day!" the Shinigami told them, his tone jovial, waving as he sunk back into his mirror.

(…)

'That was a year ago. And it's all thanks to this thing that Kim-san is still with us.' Tsugumi thought looking down at the origami heart with a newfound respect, before glancing at Kim.

She had grown her hair out, now stretching in a pink sheet going down her back, curving in tips at the ends. She was a bit taller, had gained a slightly better figure, and had become more confident in herself. She was warmer and open than before her secret as a witch was revealed. Her love for money remained however, and when, where, and however possible she would trick other's into buying things for her. But, she never even mentioned charging her friends for her healing services

"Whoever gave you this must've been really wise." She said to the pink-haired witch.

Kim smiled fondly saying "He was-is-"she corrected herself firmly, "He is. Very much so."

She was about to hand her back her keepsake when a sudden large gust of wind picked up taking it from her grasp, and she and Kim could only watch, helplessly as it was carried off by the cool breeze of the coming night.

But then, there was sudden blur of motion, a disturbance in the air which ended in a loud thud several feet in front of the group of girls. Focusing their collective gazes a few feet in front of them, they saw him. He was clothed in garb that seemed to be from a different time period altogether. What looked to be a fedora on his head, a brown and slightly dingy set of dress clothes underneath a ragged brown duster coat, the cape on the shoulders all but torn to shreds.

"His clothing his clearly from the Victorian-era." Anya muttered loud enough for them all to hear.

As he drew nearer, they began to make out finer details. The fact that he carried a massive curved sword on his left hip, what looked to be a flintlock pistol holstered on his right side. A black scarf was pulled up over his face concealing all but his red eyes, and the few strands of white hair that poked out from beneath his hat. They then began to notice a peculiar scent coming from the stranger. The cloying scent of flowers intermixing with the pungent iron tang of blood, and the slightest hint of musk.

His strange apparel combined with his equally odd weapons, strange yet alluring scent, and the fact that the full red moon was rising as a backdrop behind him made the mysterious approaching figure seem rather menacing in nature. He came to a stop three feet away from them and held out a partly clenched fist towards Kim. Reaching forwards, the witch cupped a hand beneath his, and he deposited her origami heart into her waiting palm.

"T-thank you." Kim said wary of this strange man who just nodded in response. As Kim attempted to remover her hand away from his however, he gently grasped her wrist before speaking in a low tone, "One should guard their heart closely. For it is a weak and fragile thing, in need of constant protection from external influence. So hold your heart close and only give it away to someone you know will cherish and protect it from all the Horrors and Beasts in this world."

He then let go of her wrist before walking past the group. Yet, they heard a whisper on the wind, some final words of advice "You have a heart of gold. Don't let them take it from you."

Upon hearing these final parting words, Kim stood ramrod straight before spinning on her heel and looking for the mysterious man. But, he was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he had faded into the night like he was a half-forgotten dream.

"Did any of you see where he went?" Kim asked hurriedly, while rapidly looking around for the man.

Tsugumi, Anya, and Meme shook their heads collectively while Jacqueline approached her Meister, and placing a calming hand on her shoulder, asked, "Kim, what's going on? Do you know that guy from somewhere?"

Face scrunching in aggravation and distress, the tanuki witch replied, "Yes…no…maybe. I might know him. I won't know for sure until I see him again and get a chance to talk to him."

"Well it doesn't look like that's going to happen tonight. Plus, it's getting late, so how about we go home and we'll help you look for this guy tomorrow? I mean, it's not like he'll be hard to find with that getup of his."

The Lantern Meister nodded morosely, complying with her demon weapon's request. She was in silent contemplation for the rest of the night, and Jacqueline knew her Meister was thinking intently about that strange man and didn't bother her.

As she lay in her bed that night, all Kim could do was think, 'It could've been a coincidence. That, or has he finally come back?'

With this thought rolling back and forth through her mind, Kimial Diehl fell into a fitful sleep.

(…)

'It was nice, seeing Kim and some of the others again after all this time. She seems to have lightened up too, so good for her.' Soul thought as he used Quickening to dash up to, and into the DWMA.

He took out Evelyn as he walked, as well as a piece of horn from the Vicar Amelia that he'd hollowed out and covered in silver, flicking a small silver cap open at the narrowed end of the horn, he poured some bone marrow ash into the flintlock before loading the quicksilver bullet. His gun locked and loaded he made his way towards the Death Room.

A sense of serenity came over Soul as he walked down the guillotined hallway, the type of calm that came with the assurance of defeating a strong foe. Yes, he knew if it came right down to it, he could in fact kill the God of Death. Provided there were no other unforeseen obstacles present, Spirit Albarn, the current Death Scythe, notwithstanding.

When he came to the end of the hall however, he found not just the Shinigami and Spirit, but also every other three-star Meister and Death Scythe currently in the Death God's employ. This was a fight Soul was unsure he could win. Even with his newfound power as a Great One. So, he decided to try another tactic.

Approaching in full view of all those present he stopped well away from them, standing there silently for a moment before pressing his feet together, rising his right hand straight up, and holding his left arm out at a right angle. He held this pose for a moment before slowly switching the position of his arms.

Lord Death could only stare in shock! If this person was whom he assumed he was, he should have absolutely no knowledge of that gesture. As knowledge of its use died out more than eight-hundred-years ago with the fall of Yharnam. Yet, here it was being used once again. It did nothing to allay his fears about the sudden return of the Immortal Clan. The fact that he was dressed as a Hunter of all things only amplified his fears.

For Hunter's hunted. They Hunted Beasts, Great Ones, and Kin of Great Ones. Lord Death knew if it came down to a fight, he and his would win, only because they had numbers on their side. But he also knew they would not attain victory without heavy losses on their end, losses they couldn't afford.

Seeing Spirit about to go over and apprehend the young man, Lord Death put one of his massive hands on the Death Scythe's shoulder and shook his head to the side. He then beckoned the young man closer with his other hand. The Hunter let his arms drop to his sides, and he approached, yet his hands stayed within deceptively easy reach of his weapons Lord Death noted.

'He's tensed and ready for a fight. This won't do.' The Shinigami thought to himself. Plus the boy had all but beckoned him, engaging in an ancient pact, asking for his aid. And of all his kith and kin, the Death God was the most sympathetic to humanity, believing in the power of their spirits.

And so, the God of Death did the only thing he could, and what ancient etiquette required of him. He took his true form. That of the black clawed, death tattooed, skull faced, Reaper of Eight-hundred-years ago. This was the face that all Witches feared, and even unto this day, still do.

Giving the Death God a respectful bow, The Hunter spoke his tone sounding gruff, world-weary, and yet oh so wise. "Greetings Shinigami. This Hunter has just come in from a long Hunt and seeks refuge before he ventures out again into the nightmarish night, seeking to put an end to yet another Nightmare."

The Shinigami's voice, now sounding darker yet no less kind replied, "You may rest at ease here Hunter, for there are no Beasts, nor Blood-addled fiends that require the mercy of your blade."

"Oh, and what of Great One's? How do I know you have not started this Beast Plague yourself?" he queried, sounding suspicious.

Lord Death silenced the coming protest from those around him with a slash of his clawed hand before saying, "I swear upon both my flesh and my consciousness that I did not do this."

Shaking his head, the Hunter retorted, "Your life, either here or in a Nightmare, holds no weight with me. Swear on something meaningful. Swear…swear upon the life of your Surrogate that you did not do this, and I shall believe you." The Hunter requested.

Once again, the Lord of Death found himself at a loss for words. 'How…how does he know about that?'

The Death God was oh so tempted to ask just how much he knew about Great Ones; but upon seeing the odd looks his subordinates were giving him, he decided against it. There were some things they just didn't need to be privy to after all. So instead he said, "I swear upon the life of my Surrogate, that I have not brought about this Beastly Plague."

Upon hearing the oath, The Hunter nodded silently. And the Shinigami took that as his que to continue, "Weary Hunter, might I know your name?"

"…" Now it was the Hunter's turn to pause before answering, yet answer he did. In a most beguiling fashion. "I am Henaid Evans, the Last Hunter."

"Evans!" the name fell from Spirit's lips like a poison and he sprouted a black scythe-blade from his wrist before he charged at the Hunter, swinging in maddened grief.

The Hunter easily sidestepped the enraged Death Scythe's assault. Bobbing his body left and right while nimbly moving backwards on the balls of his feet.

As Spirit continued to slash at him he raved, "It's all your fault Evans! What happened to my darling little girl, my sweet Maka…Its. All. Your. Fault."

The Death Scythe punctuated the last four words by slashing all the harder at the Hunter, all to no avail. Their one-sided fight ended rather abruptly when the Shinigami Reaper-Chopped Spirit in his head. He then began berating him in a severe sinister tone.

"You fool! Do you have any idea what you've done? You have violated the sanctity of a scared oath that has existed for eons! In attacking this Hunter after I vowed to grant him sanctuary, you have made me seen a lair, shamed me, and tarnished my honor Spirit Albarn." Death himself spoke in a tone that promised a punishment the likes of which hasn't been seen since he skinned the First Kishin, Asura alive.

"B-But Shinigami-sama, h-he, the Punk, m-my daughter…" Spirit said quivering in abject fear.

At the mention of the young scythe-meister, Death's ire cooled if only just. For he said in a chiding tone, "I realize you are worried for Maka-chan, Spirit. We all are, but you don't realize that by attacking this Hunter, one who I've granted sanctuary to, he could ask for my life in return."

Several gasps were heard and Marie Mjolnir called out, "Surely you wouldn't actually let him kill you, would you Shinigami-sama?"

"If he demands it, yes. The ancient pact is absolute in its rules." The Death God said solemnly.

Taking a drag off his cigarette, Stein commented, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't your death release the Kishin?"

The skull masked Shinigami nodded silently. All eyes turned to The Hunter, wondering what he would decide. Said Hunter was silent for a time before he finally spoke. "You can keep your life."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief only to tense slightly when he continued, "But, only on a few conditions."

"Name them." The Shinigami demanded.

Ticking them off on his fingers, as he spoke, he said, "Firstly, to prevent this from happening again, I want him accompanied by someone who can keep an eye on him from now on." He said pointing at Spirit, before adding, "Preferably someone he'd feel uncomfortable being around."

The Shinigami's mind immediately went to Stein before he shook his head slightly. 'No, that would be letting him off too easy. Besides, him and Stein get along at heart…Hmm, yes, I think that would be perfect.'

"Done." The Reaper replied, sinister glee entering his tone which caused Spirit to gulp in fear.

"Secondly, I'm reserving the right to ask a favor from you at any time in the future. One you'll have to grant, no matter how absurd it might be." The Hunter told the Great One.

Lord Death hesitated this time. After all, he could ask to execute Kidd and he would have no choice but to grant it. But, this Hunter seemed reasonable, so perhaps he could be bargained with?

"So long as it does not bring direct harm to any innocent in this town, then done." Death replied.

The Hunter gave a brief nod, "Agreed. Lastly… lastly I require a certain bit of information."

"About?" the Reaper inquired.

The Hunter paused before he removed his fedora and pulled down his black scarf, revealing his face to all.

"I KNEW it was you, you PUNK!" Spirit shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the cocaine-haired albino.

But Lord Death saw more. Soul 'Eater' Evans' red eyes were tired, weary in a way that worried him. His face looked haggard, and his mouth lacked its usual cocky smirk. Instead, his mouth was arrayed in a thin frown. His stance was loose but could easily become that same agile combat stance he had used against Spirit in a split second. He didn't know what happened to Soul Eater, but he knew he had gone from a near carefree child, to a hardened veteran Hunter. One that has possibly seen too much.

"Soul-kun, you have returned to us, at long last." Lord Death said by way of greeting.

His frown deepening slightly, the boy gruffly requested, "Soul Eater Evans feels like a distant memory or someone else entirely at this point. Call me Henaid."

"As you wish, what was it you wished to know, Henaid-kun?" The Death God asked.

"What has happened to my old partner…that is apparently, 'all my fault'?" The Hunter asked, ignoring the scorn filled look Spirit was sending his way when he threw the man's words back in his face.

It was Stein who answered, after he'd lit another cigarette. "She did not take your disappearance well Henaid. After three weeks with no contact from you, she became frantic. Wanting to send out search parties to look for this Castle Cainhurst. We did, at Spirits behest, but found nothing. No castle exists in the location she specified."

Stein took a drag off his cigarette, "This in turn led to believe you had been kidnapped and, as time dragged on, killed. She slumped into a deep depression for about six months, her grades dropped, and it didn't look like she was taking proper care of herself. Her clothes were a mess as well as her hair. Then, when she didn't come to school for a week, Black Star, Tsubaki, Kidd, and the Thompson sisters became concerned. What they found in the apartment was…dissection worthy."

He then took another drag on his cancer stick, causing the Hunter to glare at him menacingly, and prompting him to continue without further delay. "They found Maka…had succumbed to Madness."

The proclamation by the resident mad scientist caused the cocaine-haired albino's frown to deepen even further before he said, "That shouldn't be possible. She has an Anti-Madness Wavelength."

Stein smiled in a creepy knowing way before he said, "True, but it only protects her from external madness, the Madness of others. Not, her own, internal Madness."

Looking down in shame, the albino said, "So it really is all my fault."

"That's ri-"Spirit was silenced prematurely by another Reaper-Chop.

Soul bowed to the Shinigami before saying "Thank you, I know all I need to for now."

He then donned his fedora, pulled up his scarf, and began his walk towards the exit of the Death Room, only to stop when the Shinigami, his voice now back to its jovial tone, called his new name.

"Henaid-kun, what are you going to do?"

Stopping he turned slightly so he could look back at his fellow Great One before he replied, "I'm going home and try and get a decent night's sleep. Probably won't though. Then, early tomorrow I'm going to work on fixing this mess I've created."

He kept walking then, calling behind his shoulder, "And then, come nightfall, Henaid joins the Hunt."

(…)

Number of Words: 12,113 – Date Completed: 12/13/15

(…)

AN: Well…ta-da! What do you guys and gals think? This is the first story of its kind. The First Bloodborne/Soul Eater fic in existence as far as I know. This chapter is a little short (for me anyway), but I did only bother to take four days to write it so, eh. Also, this is going to be an eventual SoulXHarem fic but I'm not going to make it easy for any of the characters involved. That said, I hope you all enjoy and till the next chap, Bubbajack out!