Chapter 1

I Woke Up Where!?

Hello – Text

"Hello" – Talking

'Hello' – Thinking

Hello – Emphasis

oOoOoOoOo – Scene Break

xXx – Chapter Start

xXx – Chapter End

'Hello' – Important Title

xXx

It was dark here.

Actually, scratch that. This wasn't just dark, it was fucking black as pitch. He couldn't even see in front of his own face.

'How the hell did I get here?'

As if encouraged by the thought, a brief collection of memories appeared into his mind. There was a car, a little girl and….screaming? Wait, the car was speeding and he saw it going at….oh.

So that's what happened. He pushed the girl out of the way of the car, but couldn't move fast to get out of the way himself. He took the hit right in the chest.

Jeez, what a way to die. Still, at least the girl got out okay. If nothing else, he could say he didn't do it for nothing. Positives, right?

Still, was this what it was like to die? To just wake up in an endless black void and drift aimlessly? Well, at least it was better than endlessly falling. Or waking up in some fire and brimstone style Hell.

Was this Purgatory, then? The place after physical death where souls are purified for their sins before going to Heaven? All he could say for sure is that this didn't seem like Hell.

Then again, given a little time, even this place would probably be some kinda Hell in its own right. Endlessly drifting through nothingness and perpetual dark? The monotony of it might drive him insane.

Hopefully it wouldn't last.

oOoOoOoOo

'98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. You take one down, pass it around, 97 bottles of beer on the wall.'

oOoOoOoOo

'993, 986, 979, 972, 965, 958, 951, 944, 937, 930, 923, 916, 909, 902, 895, 888…'

oOoOoOoOo

'HOW FUCKING LONG AM I GONNA HAVE'TA WAIT?!'

Dammit, he had no idea for how long he'd been waiting. Maybe hours, maybe days, but nothing happened at all in that time. The only thing he could do to pass the time was constantly recite something repetitive to himself.

Well, he had to think it actually. The acoustics in this place sucked balls. He remembered trying to shout as loud as he possibly could and there wasn't any sound at all. He couldn't even feel any vibrations from his lungs, throat or face. It's like it wasn't even there anymore.

…Wait a minute. He couldn't feel anything!

Panicked, he immediately started moving, flapping his arms and legs, clenching his teeth, blinking his eyes, anything to show he could still feel something.

Nothing. He didn't feel a damn thing, not even the slightest ghostly imitation of a physical sensation.

What the hell was happening to him?

oOoOoOoOo

He couldn't feel. He couldn't see. He couldn't taste. He couldn't hear. He couldn't smell.

He couldn't do anything.

Numbly, he realized he should probably be panicking about that, but he somehow couldn't even work up the fear.

Because whatever this place was doing to his body, it was affecting his mind too.

He couldn't help but wonder why this was happening to him. He wasn't exactly a saint, he knew that, but he did what he could to be a good guy and help people. He always slipped a few dollars into a donation box whenever he came by a spot for Veteran relief or Christmas donations or the Salvation Army. He was always nice to his neighbors and helped his friends and family out when he could, sometimes just helping people just because.

One time in particular popped up from what remained of his fading memories. That time when he was working as a courtesy clerk at a store. He was out collecting carts one day and saw a pair of vagrants asking for some food. He remembered they had a dog with them. He always liked dogs.

He knew that they must've actually needed help from how they wrote the sign. They weren't asking for money, like most of the other signs he'd seen, which set them apart slightly. When people were asking for money, they could actually be using it to get their fix, like alcohol or some drugs. But those guys were asking for food, something they actually needed instead of wanted.

So he walked up to them, saying, "I'm on my shift right now, so I can't get you any food." Then he handed them 20 $. "But I can give you some money to buy it yourselves."

He didn't even ask them for the change. They needed it more than he did.

Sure, he'd done a few things he wasn't proud of. He watched some porn online every once in a while. He'd lied a couple times, he got into some trouble on a few occasions and he picked a few fights when his temper got the better of him. But he never did anything to warrant something like this.

So why the hell was it happening to him? Why as he sentenced to just fade away into oblivion, without any feeling at all, or even his memories or thoughts to make it easier? WHY?!

Silence was his only answer.

oOoOoOoOo

He was almost done now. His memories almost entirely gone, all sensations long since dead. There was nothing.

And soon, he'd be nothing too.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing…..

'What's that?'

He felt something. He couldn't quite place it but it felt….warm? What was warm supposed to mean? Was it something nice?

He felt so peaceful as the warmth enveloped him. So content.

"Yeah, warm feels good."

…..Wait. Feel?

Yes. He could feel it. He actually felt something!

As if whipped into a frenzy, he thrashed in search of it. Searching for whatever gave him the sensation in his body….IN HIS BODY!?

He could feel his body moving again! Feel it thrashing and struggling in the void as he sought the warmth that gave life back to what was empty stillness mere moments before.

But he couldn't find it. He could feel the warmth but he couldn't follow it. What was he going to do? How could he find it? And what was with this strange feeling on his face? In his eyes…..HIS EYES!?

He opened them. Opened his eyes for what felt like the first time in his life all over again. He blinked as he felt the tears building up, keeping them from blurring his vision.

But he could see now! He could see where the warmth was coming from, now!

It was light. He felt warm because of the light shining down on him. He could see the light!

The light shining through a doorway. A way out.

He struggled to move, fought to somehow make his way through the endless blackness of the void. He kicked his legs and flapped his arms. He twisted his body and tried to roll. He even tried taking great deep breaths of nothing to blow himself to the way out. He didn't care how desperate or silly it looked, he had a way out!

And slowly, ever so slowly, he was making progress. Inch by inch, foot by foot, meter by meter he was getting closer. Getting warmer as more of that soothing light washed over him and pushed him to try harder.

He didn't know for how long he moved but he didn't care. What mattered was that he was close. So close to the door of light.

It was right in front of him now. Just a few more meters, just a few more feet, just a few more inches!

So close that the light was almost blinding, he reached out to touch it.

Just a grazing touch, fleeting, a split-second, but he touched it.

And then the void around him was replaced by a world of blinding light.

oOoOoOoOo

He regained consciousness somewhere, his upper body shooting up to push aside some flimsy covering, and let out a startled gasp. He briefly moved his arms and legs to check if his body was in working order, clenched his hands and wiggled his toes to see if he could.

'Oh, thank god my body is working again.'

He was also feeling some light on his body. Sweet, warm light. Oh how he missed that feeling. It was so good to be back. His eyes were still sensitive, though, so he decided to keep them closed for a while longer. No point looking around if he'd just blind himself.

He was still reeling from the experience of drifting in that nothingness, that endless void. He could still remember the feeling of his mind slowly deadening and vanishing to the point where he couldn't even think. He was pretty sure he'd have nightmares about it for years.

He felt around, trying to test the new environment. He felt….sheets. Was he in a bed? Feeling around a little more, he decided that, yes, he was in a bed. A very large bed. Much bigger than the one at home. Was he in a hospital?

He gave the air an experimental sniff, trying to catch any of the scents he'd come to associate with hospitals. It wasn't that they actually smelled bad, just very flat and sterile. It must've been the chemicals.

But he didn't smell anything like that. Just the scents of normal air and….perfumes? What places did he know with a bed that had a bunch of perfumes?

'Well, this is gonna be a fun story. Now my friends are gonna be making jokes about the day-'

"Gaaaaah!" He was suddenly overcome by a splitting headache, releasing a keen groan of pain. Dammit, was this what migraines felt like? Holy shit, this was painful!

Fortunately, the pain faded quickly. Letting it slip away, he briefly wondered what could've caused it. All he did was think his na-"Oooowwww!"

Dammit, there it was again! What the hell was going on? He just seemed to get a literally splitting headache whenever he…..wait a minute. Were the headaches from….?

Taking a moment to collect himself, the young man slowly gathered his thoughts and started going through his memories. One event at a time, one moment after another, he slowly worked his way towards a friend called him-

OW! Okay, that answered the question. The headaches popped up whenever he started thinking his name. Maybe a different approach?

Opening his mouth, he prepared to say his name out loud. But the moment before he could say something, he felt an overwhelming feeling of nausea and fought to keep himself from vomiting in bed.

'What the hell? I can't even think or speak-'he felt it building in response to his thoughts, like something just lining up in his thoughts ready to pierce his skull. '…Dammit.'

Well that sucked. He wasn't exactly a psychology major, but he was pretty sure he'd never heard of a mental disorder like this before. What the hell was he gonna do?

Well, at least his closed eyes were feeling a little better. They were finally adjusting to the light, meaning he could open them. That was good, maybe he could get some idea where he was by looking at his surroundings.

Rubbing his fingers over his closed eyelids, he worked a little more sensation into them. Once finished, he opened his eyes to see wherever he may be.

…..And started gawking at his surroundings like a fish out of water.

"What. The. Fuck?"

He couldn't help it, the words seemed to slip out on their own. Because he was looking at a place he knew for a fact he'd never been to before. Hell, he was convinced that there wasn't a place like this within miles of where he lived.

First off, the room itself was massive. Its interior probably had more room on its own than a small house. The actual furniture all looked like stuff from a fancy antique shop. Everything seemed to be made with a combination of Renaissance and Gothic themes in its construction. Patterns of red, gold, and orange coming together with woods constructs of mahogany, pine and maybe oak. The walls themselves were a pale painted plaster with exquisite molding on the top and bottom, with patterned vertical stripes of red and gold. The bed he was laying in was covered in huge sheets of various reds, apparently silk. The floor itself seemed to be covered with a huge single rug, almost fitted to the corners, showing a floor of carefully placed tiles underneath. In a departure of the rest of the room, the rug in question seemed to be of Persian design.

Frankly, all the furniture and contents of the room could probably take care of the whole payment for a small house. Just where the hell was he?

And then he saw the glass doors to the side of the room. Large, almost large enough to fit the proportions of the room itself, the two doors each consisted of a single wooden frame with five square opening in which the glass was held. Briefly, he wondered if it was even possible to open.

Getting up from the bed (and happy to note that he was learning some kind of sweatpants), he walked around it to the doors to try and peek out. He didn't see any other windows to see anything outside, so the glass imbued doors were his best bet to get a look. He could only hope he recognized something outside.

When he reached the doors and looked through one of the glass openings, his hopes were immediately dashed. He didn't recognize anything! There was just a flat expanse of land ending in high mountains that he could tell were many miles away. Looking more carefully, he could also see a few small towns in the distance. They weren't large, each probably no more than a mile or two in circumference, but they were still there. Wherever he was, it apparently wasn't completely remote. Maybe he could find a way home.

'Well, there's the hope at least. But still, where am I?'

Turning back, he started examining the room, seeing if he could find any clues about where he was and who lived here. He looked through the drawers, under the bed, beneath the couch cushions, in the dressing closet-'Whoa! Somebody's got expensive taste.'

All the clothes in the closet were masterfully tailored, apparently made of silk of varying colors. Looks like whoever lived here liked to have a varied wardrobe. Looking around inside, he noticed there was even a wooden frame hiding one of the corners from view. Did the owner of this place actually dress himself in his own closet? Weird.

Taking a closer look at the clothing, he tried to find anything with some kind of name tag on it. If nothing else, he should at least know who brought him here. Only polite to know whose bed he was sleeping in. It took him some time, but he eventually found something with a name on it. Or, at least it looked like a name, if a strange one.

Vashyron Furtur.

Furtur? Where did he hear that name before? He could've sworn he remembered it from somewhere.

Dismissing the thought, he left the spacious closet and looked over the room again, hoping to find something more concrete. Glancing in the direction of the bed, his eyes were caught by something strange on the table beside it.

A Chess set. A very incomplete one, if his eyes were telling him the truth. There was only eleven pieces on the board, all of them white.

But, for some reason, he had a feeling that these weren't regular Chess pieces. Walking closer to the table they were set on, he another look at them

The pieces were al beautifully carved and polished, with a number of tiny details that seemed to make them almost alive. The manes on the Knights had tiny, barely noticeable grooves to show each individual hair, even on the back. The Rooks all seemed to be made up of smaller pieces of the white material, perfectly carved and positioned into the construction of both single towers. The Bishops were both designed in a typical manner, but the heads were very distinct, more similar to the hats of the genuine Medieval Bishop than some dot. The Pawns were the only piece that were relatively unadorned, but they were still crafted very well. Smooth on the surface with no marks at all.

Taking one of the Pawns in his hands, he was surprised to discover it was warm to the touch. Smooth in his palm and finely textured, it felt oddly…..right, as he held it in his hand. Like it belonged there. He could also swear he felt something under the surface. Some kind of flow and….a pulse. A pulse that was perfectly in tune with his own.

'Creepy.'

Putting the Pawn back in place, his eyes traveled to the book on the table, beside the Chess set. The Title was especially weird.

'The Construction of A Peerage', Ajuka Beelzebub.

Wait, he definitely recognized that name. Ajuka Beelzebub was the name of a character in an anime called….no way. That was impossible!

Grabbing the book, the young man swiftly began reading. Trying to make sense of what he just couldn't believe was happening. This couldn't possibly be real, it had to be a prank.

Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The architecture of this room, new strange location, the Evil Pieces –because that's exactly what they were, they couldn't be anything else- and the manual. The very thorough manual. This thing had all the information on Peerage creation that one could ever want to know.

Could he really be in an anime?

That train of thought was interrupted by the sound of an opening door. Turning to the disturbance, he saw a quartet or rather beautiful women walking into the room. If they were at all disturbed by his lack of upper clothing, they didn't show it at all. They just formed up in front of him in a perfect line and gave him a deep bow in perfect synch. The image was compounded when they chorused him a greeting that was just as synched as their movements. Likely long practiced.

"Good morning Master Vashyron. How may we serve you?"

The words sounded…wooden. Rehearsed. As if they were speaking in as carefully a blank tone as they could without being offensive. It was a little disconcerting.

It also made it clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was really in the world of Highschool DxD.

xXx

Well everybody, this is the first chapter of my Highschool DxD fic, The Will To Power. Those of you who have heard of Friedrich Nietzsche may get the meaning of the Title and its implications.

Now, to make some things clear about this fic. Like Joshua from World of Remnant: Online, Vashyron is gonna be a powerful character, VERY powerful in time, but he's gonna have to work for it. I've honestly gotten real sick when the MC of any medium rapidly gets power-ups for no work just because he's the MC. Vashyron is gonna work himself to the bone to get powerful, he might find some tricks to make progress a little quicker, but he's not gonna get everything on a silver platter. That's one of the problems I've always had with Issei, all of his power seems to get handed to him by somebody else. The other problem is that he's such a massive perverted loser that I can honestly say I kinda like seeing him get his ass kicked.

Another thing I'd like to tell, is that there will be lemons in this fic. I'm gonna write them onto a separate story so I don't risk this one getting taken down, but there's gonna be lemons.

Finally, something that I'm sure is a bit of a concerning topic. Pairings and Harems. Given the situation Vashyron is in, he's gonna get a harem. It's also gonna be a small harem, I'm not gonna try and drown him in beautiful girls, this isn't gonna be that kinda fic. I don't have anything against a good harem fic, but it has to be executed right, with actual relationships and development between the people involved.

One thing I hate about shows like DxD is that, while there's plenty of so called romance, there aren't really any actual relationships. Romance comes after the relationship, not before, and the dynamic of the relationship in question also helps dictate the details of the developing romance.

Seriously, why do all the girls Issei meets immediately fall in love with him? Because he was nice to them? Because he rescued them? Helped them get over some issue? That's not a romance, it's a joke.

Vashyron's will have a unique dynamic and development with his relationships with all four members of his harem and the actual romance will happen after that. NOT before. Exploring that kind of thing is one of the reasons I'm interested in writing this fic.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. Hope you've liked the chapter, and please stay in tune for Chapter 2.