Shadow's Eclipse: The Saga of Cid Kagenō by Danzy-Migrated to QQ (EiSxDxD)

*The Author moved over to Questionable Questing, so if you want to stay up to date with his stories you will have to follow him on there*

Latest update:November 1, 2023

Summary:Meet Cid: a LARPer who appears cooler than he is. Vague quotes? Yep. Enigmatic goals? Check. Stylish clothes? Absolutely. But he's no hero, just an unapologetic edgelord caught in a World rich of supernatural drama. For he lurks in the shadows... and unintentionally gaslights everyone into believing he's always five steps ahead, eclipsing their plans. (AU!DxD/EiS/FunnyEdgy/FudGy)

Link:https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14262956/1/Shadow-s-Eclipse-The-Saga-of-Cid-Kagenō

Word count:121k

Chapters:13

〖 Prologue 〗

⦕ I Am… Positively in the Wrong World ⦖

This is a weird thing to say, but I can't shake this bizarre feeling – a gut-deep, unsettling certainty that's telling me I've been transported to the wrong story, the wrong world. I'm 97.8% sure (give or take a little dramatic flair) about it. I feel like I should've been reborn as some noble scion, basking in the wonders of a fantastical realm, instead of... an already grown up, healthy 18-year-old Japanese guy with a completely clean record who is of course orphaned, and lives in an ordinary apartment. Adieu, my fantasy lineage!

It is saddening that I have to be separated from my real parents… and maybe I'll start feeling sad once I get over the fact that THIS WORLD HAS ALL SORTS OF SUPERNATURAL STUFFS BABY. WOO.

Which directly translates to as long as I have the will, the perseverance to train… and sheer fucking will… which I suppose I just mentioned earlier, I can be the one thing that I want…

To become the Eminence in Shadow.

What does that mean, you ask?

Heh. Simpletons like you won't get it.

My ultimate (fantasy) goal is to be the puppeteer pulling the strings behind the grand stage, the maestro orchestrating the intricate dance of life. Hero? Villain? Nah, too basic. I want to be the chessmaster, the enigmatic figure who navigates the shadows, while blending seamlessly with the common folk. The "Eminence in Shadow" is my endgame, and I'm going all in.

But, of course, life loves to throw curveballs.

Scratch that, more like a truckload.

There's this concept of "Sacred Gears" in this world, which sounds cooler than liquid nitrogen. I've got to have one – not just want it, but crave it with a passion that could set the world on fire. But here's the kicker: you can only get these babies at birth. It's like winning the lottery, and let's face it, I've never been the luckiest guy in the universe. I wouldn't touch a gacha game with a ten-foot pole.

But wait, there's a glimmer of hope! In my first few weeks in the blink-and-you-miss-it town of Kuoh, I've stumbled upon whispers and rumors and even witnessed a way to snag a Sacred Gear even after birth. Here in this small, unassuming town of Kuoh… the perfect starting ground of my soon-to-be headquarters for the soon-to-be legendary underground syndicate – "Shadow Something" (I haven't settled on the name yet, but rest assured, it'll be cool).

And then, there's the matter of my new name – Cid Kagenō. It wasn't exactly my first choice. In an ideal world, I'd have picked something as plain as rice – maybe Yamada, Honda, or heck, even Kenji. They're like the Japanese equivalent of "John," but I'll make do with Cid. A name is just a label, and I'm all about adaptation, improvisation, and overcoming.

An Eminence in Shadow knows that the world is a grand stage, and Shadow is poised to claim his spotlight

But first, I got some burgers to flip.

In the midst of my grand aspirations for jaw dropping entrance and "Nani?!"-inducing grand reveal, I find myself clocking in at the most "McAverage" place you can imagine – McRonald's. Yeah, it's not exactly the clandestine lair I had in mind, but hey, a mastermind's gotta make ends meet and my tiny apartment isn't going to pay rent by itself.

So, let's just say that I'm not "flipping burgers" – I'm orchestrating the culinary symphony of the fast-food world.

You see, even mundane tasks can be part of a grand, covert operation in my book. I like to call it "Mob Arts" – it's like being the undercover agent of the fast-food world.

Every day, I don my McRonald's uniform, complete with the not-so-subtle twist of the golden arches. The grill is my canvas, the spatula my paintbrush, and the fries are my artistic medium. I create culinary masterpieces that tantalize the taste buds of unsuspecting customers, all while maintaining a façade of utter normalcy.

"Mob Arts," you ask? Oh, it's a sophisticated craft that involves being an unassuming background character in the daily grind. I'm like a chameleon, blending into the fluorescent-lit jungle of the fast-food industry. I'm the guy who hands you your Big Mac with a smile, who welcomes you with a slightly-forced smile along with a healthy serving of "Welcome to McRonald's! How can I make your day awesome?"

But in my mind, I'm orchestrating covert operations more complex than a heist in a spy thriller.

As Cid Kagenō, I am the undisputed champion of making sure the ice cream machine doesn't break down – an accomplishment in itself! I take the art of flipping burgers to a whole new level, a culinary ballet of perfectly timed flips and precise seasoning. And let's not forget the finesse with which I wrap those delicious McRonald's creations, every fold and tuck done with the grace of a shadowy operator.

My fellow employees are oblivious to the fact that they share their shifts with the Eminence in Shadow. They think I'm just another burger flipper, but beneath that grease-stained apron is a mastermind plotting world domination. Or at least, plotting the perfect way to deliver your Happy Meal.

Once my McRonald's shift comes to an end, I bid farewell to the hustle and bustle of the fast-food world, at least until my next cover mission. As I hang up my apron, it's time to engage in the most mundane interactions with my coworkers. You know, the usual small talk that we all indulge in.

"Goodbye, Shido-san," says Akiko, my fellow fry-master, as she hands me a grease-stained high-five. "Don't forget to restock the ketchup packets next time."

I flash a charming, albeit discreet, smile and promise to restock those ketchup packets like the world depends on it. Akiko is completely oblivious to the fact that she's working alongside the future Eminence in Shadow. It's almost comical.

"See you tomorrow, Hiroshi," I reply to the guy who's usually on the burger station. Hiroshi, always with a look of perpetual indifference, grunts in response. His only aspiration in life seems to be flipping burgers and occasionally catching a break to sneak a snack. No grand plans for world domination there, that's for sure.

Lastly, there's Yumi, the bubbly drive-thru queen, who never misses an opportunity to chat about her latest fashion conquests. "Oh, Shido-san, I got this new skirt, and it's like, totally fabulous! You have to check it out."

I nod and promise to swing by her Instagram later. Little does Yumi know, my idea of fashion includes sinister black capes and sunglasses at night – perfect for orchestrating shadowy maneuvers.

As I leave the not-so-glamorous realm of McRonald's, I can't help but chuckle at the mundane lives my coworkers lead, utterly oblivious to my double life as Cid Kageno, the mastermind-in-training. But in the grand tapestry of my world, they play their roles, just like I do, with a side of fries and a dash of "Mob Arts" secrecy and a not-so-subtle twist of the golden arches.

Now, it's time to step back into the shadows and continue my quest for world domination from the shadows.

In the comforting embrace of the night (what a line), I meander through the labyrinthine streets of Kuoh Town, a place that defies geographical logic like a cat wearing a tuxedo. I can't help but ponder its existential significance. It's like someone decided to drop a dollop of fantasy right in the middle of mundane Japan, and Kuoh Town is the whimsical cherry on top.

Now, bear in mind, I may be magically transported to Japan after my spectacular charge at the floating two magical orbs that hummed with sound that was oddly familiar to an incoming truck, but Kuoh Town is like the quirky bonus level that wasn't part of the original game. A cosmic equivalent of that one extra nugget you find in your McRonald's bag – delightful and perplexing at the same time.

And although the building design is definitely of good ol' Nippon culture; this 'Kuoh Town' is not in my original Japan. Oddly enough, upon checking the map, Kuoh Town is the only addition of this world's Japan that I can tell at a glance.

My gut feeling tells me that this place is pivotal to this world's cosmic plot, though I must admit, my gut feelings have been about as reliable as a fortune cookie lately.

(And while his assumption turned out correct, it was nonetheless a poor basis to set his grounds on. Annoyingly, this happens rather often.)

You might think I'm no slouch in geography, and from a bird's-eye view, I've got Japan's map etched in my brain like a well-worn treasure map. But when it comes to navigating the ground, I could get lost in a paper bag. Sometimes, blending in requires a bit of "lost tourist" theatrics, just like that VTuber faking bewilderment in the heart of Tokyo. Let's not call it pretending; it's more of an art – a lost art known as "Mob Arts" that I've perfected in my former world.

Now, let's get back to the real plot twist – magic. I can feel it in my bones. I've got this strange sixth sense tingling, telling me that magic is as real as those peculiar vending machines that dispense anything you can imagine. How I unlocked this magical perception is anyone's guess.

Was it the waterfall meditation, my profound TV gazing, yoga stances that would make a pretzel envious, the awkward attempt at Ouija Board communication, the 40-day "Let's Be Jesus" fasting experiment (spoiler alert: I'm no messiah), or maybe it's because I once tried to summon Cthulhu with the R'lyehian chant? Beats me. The methods are irrelevant; as long as I can sense that there's magic that is potent in this world, that's all that I give a crap about.

Magic, my friends, magic is like free Wi-Fi in this world – it's everywhere, and it's begging to be tapped into.

Now I can sense it, caress it with my newfound magic radar, but can I wield it? What's the point of being tuned into the magical wavelength if you can't crank up the volume? Especially when everyone around me seems as clueless about this mystical gig as a cat trying to understand a Rubik's Cube. They're just regular, non-magic-savvy folks, navigating the banal maze of everyday life. I used to dream about a world where magic was as normal as ATM withdrawals, where using magic is an ordinary thing that won't freak the public… so this does make my goal of blending in with the masses a lot more difficult… In other words, a challenge.

Nice… I mean, excellent.

Challenges are my jam, my bread, and my butter. I thrive on them, and I'm here to prove that even in a world of magic and mystery, I can take this world's oddities by the horns and make them dance to my tune, all while maintaining my disguise as an ordinary guy who somehow landed in this magical circus. Behold, the Eminence in Shadow.

But to defeat the magic users, or anyone else for that matter, I must first become a master observer. It's all about gathering intel, learning the ins and outs of my potential adversaries. How do these magical folks fight? What's their go-to move? Are they team swords or team magical artillery? And let's not forget their range of engagement – that's the gold mine of information. In my old world, people couldn't conjure a sword out of thin air or shoot lightning bolts from their fingertips. Magic is the game-changer, the nuclear option, and it could either make them unbeatable or expose their Achilles' heel if they over-rely on it.

Now, here I am, three days deep into this bizarre realm, and my luck has been about as consistent as a broken vending machine. Plus, I've been thrown back into the high school grind, reliving the glory days of second grade. Yes, it would be oh-so-convenient to ditch school altogether. After all, I've aced this level before back in my old world with a perfectly average score. But getting expelled or suddenly requesting an escape from a prestigious school and scholarship for no apparent reason? That's a flashing neon sign that screams "Pay attention to me!" And that's not the kind of attention I'm seeking.

Key; entered, lock; opened, door; clicked—I let my musing carry on as I step into my 'home'.

My humble abode in this land is an utterly unremarkable rented apartment. It's the kind of place that blends into the tapestry of mediocrity, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You see, an Eminence in Shadow can't afford flashy accommodations; that would blow my cover faster than a gust of wind.

The apartment is sparsely furnished, just the essentials to get by in this world. A bed, a desk, a dresser, a laptop that doubles as my undercover command center, and of course, a mini-fridge stocked with more instant ramen than I'd like to admit. It's also got a bathroom. No hot water though. My apartment is as plain as white bread at a gluten-free bakery, and it's the perfect hideout for my not-so-ordinary existence.

Uniform; off, basic t-shirt; on — as I settle into my humble abode, my mind races with thoughts of my next move before I embrace sleep and prepare for tomorrow's school.

It's time to meditate, not in the traditional sense of seeking inner peace, but to connect to this elusive magical Wi-Fi that hums beneath the surface of this world. It's like trying to join an exclusive club without an invitation. You've got to know the secret handshake, or in my case, the mystical incantation. Maybe it's as simple as thinking happy thoughts and sprinkling fairy dust. Or perhaps it's a complex series of chants, combined with a precise alignment of stars and a sprinkle of stardust. Either way, I'm about to embark on a journey into the unknown, and I'm not exactly equipped with a GPS.

I find a quiet corner and sit down cross-legged, closing my eyes, and focusing on my breath. It's a form of meditation, but in my case, I'm seeking to unlock the secrets of this magical realm, like a hacker trying to crack a hidden code. I imagine my consciousness as a radio, tuning into the wavelengths of magic that permeate the world.

But hey, I've never shied away from a challenge. Challenges are like my morning coffee – the thrills necessary for survival. So, I resolve to tap into the magical wavelength of this world, just like I'm trying to snag the last Wi-Fi signal at a crowded coffee shop.

The image of a network connection bar pops into my mind, and I envision it filling up as I delve deeper into my magical meditation. It's not an easy process, and it certainly doesn't happen overnight. I've come to accept that my path to mastering this newfound magical sense won't be a walk in the park. But challenges are what keep life interesting, right?

As I continue to meditate and strive to connect to the magic Wi-Fi, I can feel the threads of the mystical web brushing against my senses. It's like trying to grab smoke with your bare hands – elusive and ever-shifting. Yet, I persist, knowing that with time and practice, I'll figure out how to tap into this extraordinary power source.

So here I am, Cid Kageno, an ordinary guy with an extraordinary dream, meditating in his mundane apartment, seeking to unlock the secrets of magic in this bizarre world. The Eminence in Shadow may be my endgame, but the journey to get there is turning out to be a magical adventure of its own.

〖 Chapter 1〗

⦕ The Curtain Rises ⦖

The next day dawns, and I'm off to Kuoh Academy, my unassuming façade fully in place complete with one cowlick, ready to continue honing my Mob Arts.

Kuoh Academy is a realm of gender proportions that would make a dating app developer drool with envy. With a female-to-male ratio of 9 to 1, it's like stepping into a real-life anime high school, minus the giant robots and sentient tentacles. The poor guys here are like rare Pokémon in a grassy field, and every mundane interaction with them is an opportunity to fine-tune my Mob Fu.

As Cid Kagenō, I've chosen the covert approach, embracing the path of shadows and subtlety. I don't want to be noticed, remembered, or even acknowledged if I can help it. It's a challenging road, full of perilous pitfalls and daily inquiries about the age-old "Does this uniform make me look fat?" But I'm not one to do things half-heartedly. Becoming the Eminence in Shadow demands mastery of the art of blending in while I decipher this world's cryptic rulebook, even if it means enduring high school all over again.

I navigate the bustling swarm of students like a ninja slipping through a crowded bazaar – unnoticed, invisible, and utterly unremarkable. It's like witnessing a master of disguise weave through a maze of sheep without a single bleat of suspicion. Mob Arts isn't just a hobby for me; it's a way of life. I've even perfected the "busy with my phone" act – my social invisibility cloak. But when you're as outnumbered as a snowman in a Sahara summer, every moment is an opportunity.

The classrooms are a symphony of teenage drama, with students gossiping, teachers droning on, and textbooks that could cure insomnia. It's like walking into a soap opera, only with a less compelling plot. Yet, I slip through it all like a chameleon in a kaleidoscope factory. I've become the background character, a student but not really a student, a spectacle of everyday life without the spectacle. A magic trick without the magic.

But I'm not just a student; my real mission is to analyze my classmates. I notice how they interact, who's the queen bee of the hive, who's secretly crushing on someone, and who's plotting their meteoric rise to high school stardom. Who's got the quickest reflexes? Who looks like they can recite spells in their sleep? And who's more likely to think that a "magic wand" is a fancy new dessert at McJonald's?

These observations are like precious gems in my Mobhood; they help me determine who to avoid like the plague.

During lunch break, I put my Mob Arts to exquisite use. I blend seamlessly into the cafeteria crowd, my eyes scanning for potential allies or adversaries in this magical chessboard. To the naked eye, I'm just another student pondering the cafeteria dilemma: mystery meat or the slightly less mysterious meat?

Without realizing it, school is over.

"Yo, Cid," a voice I'm growing all too familiar with, a boyish voice, calls out from my left.

Ah, it's Hyoudou. Hyoudou Issei. A brown-haired classmate of mine. Just your average guy, like most of the students here. I can sense that this school houses some Supernaturals, but I can't pinpoint them yet. It's as if they have some kind of scrambler or jammer installed, scattering their magical traces. Knowing they're here is one reason I can't just up and leave this school.

Now, normally, Hyoudou comes as part of a package deal, flanked by his two best (and probably only) friends – The Baldie and The Glasses – known collectively as the Perverted Trio. Hyoudou is the unofficial ringleader of that peculiar circus, and I have absolutely no intention of turning it into a Perverted Quartet, as catchy as that might sound.

But today, it's just Hyoudou. And my instinct is tingling.

"Hey," I greet him casually. "Sup."

"You free today, Cid?" he asks, and I can practically smell his ulterior motive from a mile away. That, or he desperately needs a shower.

"If you're going to ask me to get you porn mags, it's still a no. Just because I'm 18 doesn't mean I'll buy stuff for you. Unless you're paying me."

"No! It's not that! And damn, you're a cheapskate..." His swift denial sounds more like an outburst. Could it be that he's about to share something of actual worth for once, and it has nothing to do with ogling girls and why the pattern of their panties somehow hold a key to a great secret?

He continues somewhat nervously, in a way that makes me want to smack him. "Look, man... I… I got a date."

Huh.

Huh?

Seriously?

I guess miracles do happen. As expected from a world of magic!

"Well, good for you," I say to him. Genuinely, of course. And sort of surprised. "Congrats."

"Hehe thanks— wait, no. Look, man, thanks for that, but I need your help."

"I'm not buying you condoms."

"Not that!" Hyoudou exclaims before pausing to consider. "...Wait, for real? Do you carry one— no, of course you don't. You're afraid of girls."

"Yeah, man. Girls give me the heebie-jeebies," I lie with practiced ease, allowing the words to slide off my tongue like butter on a hot pancake.

Hyoudou, my unsuspecting comrade in this high school charade, raises an eyebrow and offers a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry for you, dude."

"We all have our crosses to bear," I sigh, and he mirrors my expression, probably thinking my "girl-phobia" is the worst fate one can suffer in this world since having to watch grass grow.

In truth, I'm not the least bit afraid of girls. But in this estrogen-soaked educational arena where pigtails and butterfly clips reign supreme, it's just far more convenient to paint myself as one of the nondescript background players. It reduces the number of regular folks I have to engage with to keep up my Mob facade, and staying away from the fairer sex won't raise any eyebrows. If anyone inquires, I'll just toss out some fabricated traumatic backstory or another equally plausible piece of nonsense. My utterly unremarkable straight black hair adds another layer of camouflage to help me blend into the horde of unremarkable guys.

Hyoudou, bless his clueless Mob heart, plows on despite the awkwardness. "You're probably the worst guy I can ask this, but I literally have no one else to turn to." His voice oozes desperation, and embarrassment tags along for the ride. Is he really going to ask me for dating tips?

"But seriously, man, if you could drop some first-date wisdom on me right now, that'd be great. Seriously great," he pleads insistingly, his eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation. It's like watching a drowning man cling to a piece of driftwood that's actually a rubber duck.

He really did just ask me for dating tips.

My brother in christ, are you stupid? I'm supposedly terrified of girls. It's like asking cat grooming tips from someone who's scared of cats. It's like asking a fish for advice on mountain climbing. A worm on how to fight birds.

"You do realize you're asking a guy who's afraid of girls for dating advice, right? I don't even know what your girl is like."

"Well, yeah, but you're logical!" he exclaims, latching onto my non-existent expertise and as if logic is the secret sauce to successful dating. "And 'my girl' huh? I like the sound of that… A-anyway, c'mon man, give me some pointers! I'd ask Matsu or Moto, but yesterday, those two looked ready to uppercut me when I spilled the news!"

Of course, they would. Just a few days ago, the three of you were having a full-blown pity party about the misery of singlehood. They're probably saltier than the Dead Sea right now. How do I know about their pity fest? Well, I was graciously invited, but I humbly declined, citing my part-time job, though mostly because such eccentric gatherings don't align with my Cid Kagenō persona.

"...Should I take her to the amusement park?" he wonders aloud, his eyes filled with stars, envisioning a whirlwind romance amidst cotton candy and roller coasters. "That sounds good, right? There's rides and… rides. Haunted houses—"

"Eh... Isn't that a bit much? Are you rich? Didn't you just spend your allowance on those stuffs?"

"'Those stuffs' is Eroge!" he suddenly shouts, before slumping down. "...But yeah. I'm broke."

Well well. A common ground.

Well… when in doubt, go for the most basic answer. "Erm… uh… take her to the movies before you eat? You don't have to do much when watching a movie, and you can always just… talk about it later when you eat if you're clueless."

Upon hearing this, his eyes gleam as if he's just stumbled upon the Holy Grail. "Dude, you're a genius. Why didn't I think of that? Thanks, Cid! The next ramen's on me! If things go well, I mean!"

And off he goes, likely to meet his newfound love interest. I can already tell that I'll be learning what not to do from him when I'm in full mob-mode; making that kind of rushed exit is definitely on the list.

As for me, it's time to make like a mob and skedaddle. Normal mobs don't stick around school.

I'm on my way somewhere that's definitely not school when it hits me like a feather-light caress on my skin – the essence of magic, faint but undeniable. Someone tickled my magical antenna, and boy, do I feel tickled.

Excitement courses through me as I follow the mystical trail. Imagine my surprise when I find out that the source of this arcane beacon is none other than Hyoudou's new girlfriend. Well, isn't this a plot twist for the ages? She does exist. I guess it's a farewell for your Mobhood.

Nevertheless! This is excellent news for my covert magic studies. With my carefully cultivated persona as Hyoudou's "more than acquaintance, less than friend," and my self-professed "fear" of girls, I can hang around them without raising suspicions or jealousy. All while discreetly observing her magical prowess.

Looks like my luck isn't so bad after all.

She's sporting a snazzy green blazer from a different school and has Hyoudou's arm draped around hers. Maybe it's just me, but her enthusiasm seems a tad forced. But eh. Then again, what do I know about relationships? In this world, societal norms might be as flexible as a gymnast's back.

Speaking of which, what's the deal with those absurdly short skirts and bloomers during gym class? Are we in a time warp back to the '90s?

And it looks like instead of following my brilliant cinema-before-dinner plan, they're heading straight to the park. Well, why not, I think to myself. I've got a soft spot for that park. It has this inexplicable allure, like it's destined to be a historical site for countless 'first encounters.' Call it a chuuni's intuition, but I predict many dramatic meetings here in the near future, like a low-budget movie with a limited number of shooting locations.

I keep my distance, blending into the crowd as if I'm an assassin on a mission. Fortunately, the park is a hot spot for high schoolers from various institutions, including that girl's school, and, well, who knows which other ones? Names and educational institutions are not exactly my forte.

As they venture deeper into the park, things take an intriguing turn (always wanted to say that).

A ripple in the fabric of reality catches my attention. It's tricky to describe, but trust me, it's there. Those two lovebirds simply vanish near a fountain as if they've walked into the Backrooms. Yet, oddly enough, no one else seems to notice this disappearing act. No one but me, the unassuming observer who's now seriously considering getting a detective's hat.

I fixate on the spot where they vanished, examining the threads of magic that have unraveled like a frayed sweater. It's like they've entered a different dimension, one I can't quite access. The fountain has become a mysterious gateway, and I'm the nosy neighbor peering through the curtains.

Let me in. Let me in goddammit.

Regardless of my entry point, it's as if I'm unceremoniously ejected back into the first room. My repeated circling around the fountain doesn't do any favors for my reputation; the bystanders wisely choose to keep their distance from the weirdo doing a bizarre dance around a public water feature.

Time for a different approach.

These magical essences are like the strands of cosmic sweater threads, and I'm beginning to wonder if I can wield cosmic scissors to cut through them. But what kind of scissors can slice through the fabric of magic? Or maybe I need some cosmic shears, but I left those in my other pants. Logic tells me that only something from the same or higher plane can interact with these magical threads. I'm essentially Mr. Mortal here, but then again, so is Hyoudou, and he somehow slipped into that hidden room. So, perhaps it doesn't discriminate based on origins. Maybe all he needed was a medium... in this case, the girl.

So I need another Supernatural to help me get into this hidden room. Any Supernaturals hanging around, willing to assist? No? Yeah, I thought as much.

Time to take matters into my own hands, quite literally.

I find a bench at a comfortable distance from the fountain and settle down, adopting a posture as if I'm about to meditate or pray. Onlookers are giving me strange looks, but right now, I couldn't care less. I need to empty my mind, focus, and...oh, achieve tranquility. It's difficult at first, but once you get the hang of it, it's as easy and relaxing as sipping a pretentious tea.

And it lets me refresh my head, and helps me zero in on my senses. I tune out all the unnecessary noise. The world around me fades away, and the park-goers are no longer in my visual field.

Instead, I see it. I see them. Magic isn't just an abstract thing like faith or justice, it's completely visible. The skies take on a purple hue, and I'm grinning like the mad genius I am as I gaze upon the mystical fabric of magic for the first time. It's like a delicate light blue, scattered and formless like the remnants of a cosmic cat's playground, with a massive cocoon enveloping the entire fountain.

My fingers delicately pluck a wayward strand of magic, handling it like cotton candy that doesn't melt all over your hands. It's got that cool, liquid feel, like tar without the icky goo factor. If I can just figure out a way to vacuum this stuff up, the possibilities are practically a wizard's dream. But for now, I've snagged myself a marble-sized chunk of magic—let's dub it Mana, for the sake of simplicity—and it's a solid starting point.

My grin transforms into a grin of the Cheshire cat variety, stretching from ear to ear. Here I stand, Cid Kagenou, a pioneer of a new era, clutching the key to what I'll lovingly name the Shadow Dimension. It's thematic, you see, and it slots perfectly alongside the mundane dimension, like a ninja in plain sight.

As I feel a glorious laugh bubbling up, I decide to save it for later. The moment requires stealthy preparations. I need to slip into my disguise and tuck away my backpack, for the birth of The Eminence in Shadow is nigh.

Oh man, the excitement coursing through my veins is practically electric. Good thing I've got both the time and cash to order my custom outfit. Naturally, it's an all-black ensemble, complete with a masquerade mask I snagged on the cheap from Amazonk and some red contact lenses from a certified weeb emporium. After all, you can't have The Eminence in Shadow parading around in neon pink threads. That would be a fashion faux pas of legendary proportions.

All suited up, I don't need a mirror to know I look dope. Unfortunately black jeans and black pea coat with a custom hood underneath the collars don't make me look that unique, so these are just my temporary 'Shadow Outfit'. But for now, these shall suffice. If I had more patience, I'd have gelled my hair to style it differently. Maybe once after I mastered how to control this world's Scattered Mana (yet another made up term he made on the spot), I can do all this in a flash.

Until then, I'll make do with what I got.

Huh? Where do I get all the money from?

Heh. I'll always find a way. (he splurged his 'savings' from buying questionable 18+ things for Hyoudou and the gang)

As for my weapon of choice, while you can't go wrong with a sword, because swords are really versatile — first, you can have sword-users use a different weapon and suddenly become more powerful or badass, or have sword-users flourish their blade before a battle, or have them 'borrow' their companions' weapon and suddenly master them, "Haha, I can handle this weapon too!", immediately multiplying their badassery points. That's just way too cool! Also, swords with black blades! I really like when the blade reflects that ominous looking gleam, and it's amazing how it can look really ominous while upping the cool factor to eleven. I really like how it can fulfill all those abstract needs. Being able to switch up the styles on the go is a lot of fun too! It's actually so much fun! You have European styles, various Japanese styles, different methods for different kinds of swords such as claymores or two-handers, and then you can add your own flair to make it seem like you come up with your own swordsmanship. It's a lot more refined and skilled compared to blunt weapons. We really need swords to become a thing in the whole world and start selling them like Americans sell their guns in Walmart. Don't. You. Think. We. Really. Need. To. Officially. Give. Everyone. Swords?

But I don't have a sword. And more than that, unfortunately, a sword is difficult to conceal and I don't want to get in trouble with the police as a law-abiding Mob. And even if I got through that, I definitely can't fit one in my school backpack unless it's a foldable sword, in which case it's just a toy sword. So I brought with me my most trustworthy tool that isn't really that suspicious unless I carry it at night, and can easily be concealed as an umbrella handle.

A crowbar.

Do you know that crowbars are really versatile as well? First, you can have crowbar-wielding individuals transform their utility tool into a tonfa-like weapon when wielded backward, instantly showcasing their adaptability and resourcefulness. And—(he went on for quite a bit, but basically, you can use it as a tonfa and break people's helmet or skulls) —I have fond memories with crowbars during my time as the Stylish Biker/Gangster Slayer. Don't. You. Think. We. Seriously. Need. To. Officially. Equip. Everyone. With. Crowbars?

And now! The moment this World has been waiting for… my grand entrance.

Approaching the silk-like pink cocoon, I consider my choices, and most importantly; my line. First impressions are important and especially a key moment for characters like me. I can't fuck this up.

…

But before all that, how do I get in there anyway? Do I just tear this thing? Surely you can't expect me to peel it strand by strand, that'll take me forever. I do have a crowbar at hand, but prying it like a crate isn't really that stylish.

Oh well. One quick way to find out!

Placing both hands on the cocoon, I rip it apart like a kid tearing into a massive birthday present, and suddenly, all the colors return to the world.

Raynare is, at first, confused when she sees a pair of floating black gloves, and proceeds to panic when those floating gloves tore apart her barrier, ripping a black tear in her small domain.

She freezes the moment she realizes the skies have shifted from its purple hue to standard blue skies. Something has gone horribly wrong when all of the sudden, every lowly human around her is staring at her. At her pair of black wings. At her barely covered body. At her true form. Worse, they are now staring at the boy bleeding on the ground, where her purple lightspear is still firmly embedded in his stomach.

"H-hey… is this real? Are we being punk'd? Has cosplay gone too far?"

"Bruh, check out those thighs—"

"Who're you 'bruh'ing at?! I'm your girlfriend!"

'No! What happened?! How did—' Her heart sinks as she realizes the gravity of the situation. The humans around her begin to panic and react with shock, confusion, and alarm:

"Ew, who's that weirdo? All black in this heat? Just looking at him makes me feel stuffy."

"Uh… I-isn't that Hyoudou? Is he… alright?"

"Is… is that… blood?"

On the ground, Issei weakly raises his hand, his face partially submerged in his own blood, and utters a final desperate plea: "...H-help…some…one…"

Raynare's eyes widen further as the first scream pierces the air, quickly followed by a cacophony of screams and the onset of chaos. This is a disaster she must escape from immediately. Wiping these "humans" memories is a simple task, but it won't prevent her from facing a severe reprimand from her superiors. She hastily starts conjuring another barrier to contain the situation before it spirals further out of control.

But first, to address her new troublemaker. A man in all-black.

Shit. I didn't mean to do that.

I didn't mean to turn this park into a riot zone. Now's everyone's running and screaming. That Mob was right though, this outfit is stuffy. I'm sweating already.

Gotta say, I didn't expect to see my classmate would fall victim to… whatever that light-weapon-thing is... which is a TOP CLASS MOB LEVEL OF MOBBERY! Getting taken out by the first supernatural we encounter? This girl must be a main character in the grand stage of life. Salute, Issei, salute. From one Mob to another. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.

And I know one other thing; that blitzy thing sticking out his back is most definitely magical. It's way cooler than that umbrella handle-crowbar combo I've got going on. I mean, who wouldn't want a prop weapon that gleams like a hundred neon signs at a rave party? Yep, it's like the golden ticket to magic town. I want it, and I want it bad.

As for the girl who turned him into a human shish kebab, I could swear she used to look much younger and not as curvy as the woman flying over here. And didn't have any black wings. But eh. Details.

What really bugs me, though, is that I didn't get to see how she manipulates her Mana. Damn it. (So Cid ruefully thought, completely unaware that he had only partially obliterated her magical barrier and therefore preventing her to create another as one still stood, and completely apathetic that his classmate was dying. Alas, Mobs aren't known for their empathy.)

But that's a problem easily remedied… And I have to say, that look in her eyes, the confusion, her dramatic reaction at my dramatic entrance… YES! YES YES YES— THIS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR BABY! It feels a thousand times more satisfying when the 'stare of disbelief' comes from something that isn't human. I can barely hold back a grin, but I have to. Because an Eminence in Shadow's first entrance needs to exude deadpan and mysterious vibes. I can't risk falling into the 'potentially a villain' category by grinning like a maniac.

Hah… And to think this is only the beginning of everything… Shadow's curtain rises, and onwards to my jaw-dropping debut!

Link:https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14262956/2/Shadow-s-Eclipse-The-Saga-of-Cid-Kagenō