High School DXD : Amen

The soft glow of celestial lamps illuminated the stacks of documents spread across the pristine marble desk. Arishem sat at its center, his fingers tracing the edges of old parchment, his golden eyes scanning each page with unwavering focus. The weight of Heaven's justice bore down upon him, but he welcomed it. This was the path he had chosen—the role he had been elevated to.

With a quiet exhale, he placed one document aside and reached for another. Each report, each testimony, each faded page held a puzzle piece in a centuries-old mystery. The evidence was sparse but disturbingly consistent. A pattern had emerged, a conspiracy that had been buried under layers of bureaucracy and the fear of igniting war.

It all began with Asia Argento—her unjust excommunication had first drawn his attention. Her supposed crime? Healing a devil, something considered a grave sin. And yet, as Arishem delved deeper, he discovered she was not the first.

There had been others. Other nuns, priestesses, and holy women cast from the Church under eerily similar circumstances. Their alleged crime was always the same: aiding a devil. But the real question was why?

How had a devil infiltrated such sacred places undetected?

Why did the descriptions of the "devil" match in nearly every case?

And why did these women disappear soon after their banishment?

One testimony, in particular, caught his eye. A former high-ranking exorcist, long since retired, had spoken of a magic circle found near the last known location of one of these nuns. It had been dismissed at the time, buried under political pressure, for one simple reason:

The magic circle bore the crest of House Astaroth.

Arishem's brow furrowed as he set the paper down. Astaroth. One of the great pillars of the Underworld. A house that produced one of the four Satans—Beelzebub, formerly Adjuka Astaroth.

The discovery had been quietly silenced, swept away under the justification that Adjuka had long abandoned his family ties when he ascended as Beelzebub. But that did not erase his past.

If a member of House Astaroth was truly responsible for these incidents, the implications were severe.

Were the missing women being targeted for a specific reason?

Was it a coincidence that they had all been cast out before disappearing?

Had there been an intentional manipulation of events to remove them from Heaven's protection?

Arishem tapped a finger against the desk, deep in thought. The Church was notoriously rigid, but to exile so many holy women under similar accusations was... too neat. Almost as if the hand of an outside force had guided their downfall.

And yet, despite all these troubling questions, no one had dared to investigate further.

Until now.

Arishem sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling in contemplation. Tomorrow was the summit. A delicate peace had been established between the three factions, but if there was to be true justice, the past could not be ignored.

The Devils and the Fallen had sins to answer for.

He could not allow this to be buried any longer. The Council of Heaven needed to acknowledge that the Church had failed its own, and those responsible must be held accountable. Even if it meant calling Beelzebub himself to answer for the actions of his House.

He would bring this before Michael. The leader of Heaven must be made aware before the meeting.

The time for silence was over.

Justice would prevail.

----

Arishem closed his eyes, his fingers steepled as he let the information settle in his mind. There was something missing—a link between the disappearances of the holy maidens and the fallen angels who had sided with Kokabiel. The timing of these incidents was too precise to be a coincidence.

He needed more information—and he needed it now.

His golden eyes flickered with celestial light as he extended his hand, calling upon one of Heaven's swiftest and most reliable agents.

A soft hum of divine energy filled the room as a silver-blue magic circle formed in the air. From its center emerged Sariel, the Seraphim of Knowledge and Guidance. His long, silver-white hair fell over his shoulders, and his piercing sapphire eyes gleamed with intellect and insight. Dressed in his flowing celestial robes, he gave a polite bow.

"You summoned me, Arishem?" Sariel's voice was calm, yet there was a note of curiosity.

Arishem wasted no time.

"I require every available record on the holy maidens and nuns who were excommunicated under similar circumstances to Asia Argento," he commanded. "Specifically, those whose disappearances followed shortly after their exile. Compile the details of their locations, their last known correspondences, and any suspicious activities leading up to their banishment."

Sariel's sharp mind immediately caught the weight of the request.

"You suspect an orchestrated pattern?"

"I don't suspect—I know," Arishem replied. "But I lack the final piece to confirm it. There's more at work here, and it extends beyond the Church."

Sariel's expression darkened slightly. He had been gathering knowledge for Heaven for millennia, and rarely did patterns like this go unnoticed. For it to have been concealed, someone powerful had to be involved.

"What else do you need?"

Arishem's gaze sharpened.

"Information on the Astaroth clan," he said firmly. "Not just the noble family itself but anyone within their extended peerage whose activities increased in influence during the same time period. Look for new members, unexplained promotions, or acquired sacred treasures."

Sariel exhaled slowly. Astaroth. That was a dangerous name to investigate.

"That is a bold accusation," Sariel warned.

"I am not accusing—yet," Arishem clarified. "But their name has appeared in conjunction with these disappearances, and I will not ignore it."

Sariel nodded, already formulating the best way to gather this information.

"I will have the records compiled within the hour. If there is a connection, I will find it."

"Good," Arishem said. "Bring it to me directly. The truth will not remain buried."

With another bow, Sariel vanished in a flash of divine light, leaving Arishem alone with his thoughts.

He gazed at the scattered documents before him, knowing the truth lay somewhere within them. The answer to a mystery that had been festering for centuries.

And when the truth was revealed, justice would follow.

----

The soft rustling of parchment filled the chamber as Arishem meticulously scanned the compiled records. His silver eyes moved swiftly over the documents, his sharp mind piecing together the fragmented details like the final strokes of a divine mosaic.

Then, the pattern emerged—undeniable, inescapable.

Diodora Astaroth.

The heir of the Astaroth clan. A young noble devil. His peerage numbers had grown after each disappearance. Not one or two, but all the missing holy maidens and excommunicated nuns had ended up in his grasp.

A pulse of celestial power rolled through the room, the very air thickening under the sudden shift in divinity. The candles flickered violently, the golden glow of the Holy Realm itself wavering as if Heaven itself recoiled from the revelation.

Arishem's hands, steady and resolute, clenched the parchment. His silver eyes—usually calm, unwavering—blazed with radiant intensity, pure streaks of divine energy swirling in their depths. A quiet tremor ran through his form, not of doubt, but of the sheer gravity of what he had uncovered.

"They prayed..."

His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an otherworldly weight.

Those young women had prayed. They had cried out for deliverance. Their faith, no matter how battered, must have remained—and yet, they had been left to suffer in the shadows of Hell's deception.

"What has he done to them...?"

The parchment in his grip ignited—not in ordinary fire, but in sacred luminescence, reduced to glowing embers that spiraled into nothingness. He did not need to read further. The implications were clear.

For years, they had been subjected to this fate. Without Heaven's knowledge. Without intervention.

His breathing slowed, controlled, yet the space around him shook. His power was reacting—not as rage, but as divine reckoning.

"This injustice must be righted."

A single, resounding pulse of divine energy spread through the chamber, silencing everything. The very walls of Heaven trembled, and a faint, distant chime rang across the celestial plane, as if the Will of Heaven itself had stirred.

Arishem straightened, his ethereal wings unfurling slightly, silver and gold flames flickering along their edges. His expression had hardened, his silver eyes gleaming with righteous purpose.

The time for revelation was over.

The time for judgment had come.