The Arizona sun was hot, but Jace Carter didn't care. He leaned back against the bleachers, squinting past the stage as the last few names were called. His name had already been read—loudly, even a little awkwardly—and he'd already done the awkward walk across the stage, shook the hand of the principal, and tucked his diploma into his gown pocket like it was a napkin.
All around him, kids were cheering, parents were crying, and someone's little cousin was blowing an airhorn like they were at a football game.
Jace?
Jace was smiling.
Not because he was sentimental or overwhelmed with pride—but because for the first time in eighteen years, he felt… free.
He had no regrets. No lingering what-ifs. Just this heat, the buzz of accomplishment in the air, and the promise of a summer unchained from school walls.
A girl to his left nudged him.
"You didn't cry."
He glanced over. Madison, one of his classmates. Kind of cute. Super emotional.
Jace raised an eyebrow. "Should I have?"
She blinked. "Everyone else did."
"Peer pressure doesn't work on me," he said with mock seriousness, placing a hand over his chest. "I am a man of stone."
She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're too cool to feel things. We get it."
Jace grinned. "Exactly. I bottle up my feelings and channel them into sarcastic comments and competitive video games."
Somewhere behind them, someone shouted his name. He turned to see a group of his friends waving near the fence. One of them held up a sign that said 'JACE = LEGEND' in poorly cut construction paper.
He gave a lazy salute and called back, "Damn right I am!"
The crowd laughed. A few adults looked over disapprovingly, but Jace didn't care. He was done playing by rules he didn't write.
His parents found him near the snack stand after the ceremony. His dad, a former Marine, was dressed like he still ran drills in the morning—shorts, polo, sunglasses, posture that could snap steel. His mom, a sweet-faced woman with a tactical mindset hidden behind a PTA smile, wrapped him in a crushing hug.
"We're so proud of you," she said.
"I know," Jace said with a chuckle. "I mean, look at me. I graduated without setting anything on fire."
His dad grunted. "Low bar."
"Still a win."
They stayed for pictures, hugs, more pictures, and an awkward moment when his mom tried to straighten his hair. Then came the part Jace had actually been waiting for—the freedom to leave.
He ducked out before the crowd finished clearing, claiming he had to "use the bathroom" and never returning to the group chat for the afterparty.
He wanted space. Time. Just a little quiet to take it all in.
Later that night, he walked the edge of the neighborhood on foot, headphones in, backpack slung over one shoulder. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the familiar sidewalks. His favorite playlist droned in his ears—lo-fi, mellow, something to match the vibe.
This was peace.
His peace.
He wasn't the smartest. He wasn't the strongest. But he was content. And that? That was rare.
"I don't need to change the world," he murmured aloud, voice soft under the stars. "I just want to live it."
And then, because fate has a sense of humor…
Headlights. Screeching tires. One very confused squirrel.
And Jace's last words, muttered in disbelief as the world turned sideways:
"…No freaking way I just got Isekai'd by a Ford."
There was no pain. No broken bones. No tunnel of white light.
Just a click.
Like a switch being flipped in the middle of a quiet room.
Jace Carter floated—nowhere and everywhere. No body. No form. Just thought.
"…Huh," he muttered. "This is way less dramatic than I expected."
Then came a voice. Calm. Slightly amused.
"You're early."
Suddenly, the void reshaped into a glowing office. A man sat behind a floating desk, dressed in an immaculate white suit with golden trim. His hair shimmered like starlight. His eyes held galaxies.
Jace stared. "God?"
"Close. Administrative Overseer of Cosmic Mishaps. You died prematurely. Wrong timeline, wrong truck."
Jace blinked. "You're telling me I got Isekai'd… by accident?"
The man held up a folder: "Carter, Jace – Collateral."
"The truck was meant for someone else. You were thirty-seven seconds ahead of schedule."
"Punctuality kills," Jace muttered.
The man continued, "Per universal law, you're entitled to a reincarnation compensation package. Three wishes, new life, memories intact. Interested?"
"Oh, hell yes," Jace grinned. "Lay it on me."
"State your wishes."
Jace raised a finger.
"First, I want all of Gojo Satoru's powers from Jujutsu Kaisen. That means Six Eyes, Limitless, Infinity, Blue, Red, Hollow Purple, and Domain Expansion: Unlimited Void."
The man nodded, jotting notes mid-air. "Granted."
"Second," Jace continued, "I want all of Sukuna's powers. Cleave, Dismantle, his cursed flames, and Malevolent Shrine—his Domain Expansion too."
The man raised an eyebrow. "You realize that combination is… absurdly overpowered?"
Jace smirked. "That's the goal."
"Granted—on the condition you train them responsibly. You'll start young and locked until your body matures."
"Fair."
"And third…" Jace tapped his chin. "Give me a gacha system. One that can summon items, powers, or people from any multiverse. Totally random. One moment it's a divine spear, the next it's a can of corn."
The man blinked. "Sentient gacha system, I assume?"
"Absolutely. Make it petty. Let it roast me every time I get trash."
"…Granted."
The Overseer closed the folder with a clap.
"You'll be reborn into the House of Gremory, a noble devil family in a world known as High School DxD. Your name: Kael Gremory. Middle child. No one will detect your power. Not at first."
Jace gave a mock salute. "I'll keep it mysterious. Just the way I like it."
"Then good luck, Jace Carter—"
The man's voice echoed as the world folded inward—
"—or rather, Kael."
Light. Noise. A newborn's cry.
Somewhere in the Underworld, a child with white hair was born, eyes closed beneath a thick blindfold.
In his head, a voice whispered smugly:
"Welcome, Kael. Gacha Roll initializing in 3… 2… 1…"
The chamber was quiet.
At least, for a moment.
Then came the cry—short, sharp, and startlingly focused. Like someone honking a horn just once, then deciding that was enough.
Venelana Gremory cradled her newborn son in her arms. The child was eerily quiet now, his tiny face drawn tight—not from distress, but tension. His fists clenched. His jaw, for a baby, was unnaturally rigid. And most notable of all?
His eyes.
Tightly shut.
He hadn't opened them once.
Across the room, Sirzechs watched silently, arms folded.
Beside him stood Ajuka Astaroth, genius and already the Underworld's most curious mind. He narrowed his eyes, analyzing the child with surgical focus.
"…His body is fine," Ajuka murmured. "No mutations, no curses, no demonic instability. But his expression…"
Sirzechs glanced at him. "What do you think it is?"
Ajuka didn't answer immediately. He walked closer, circling the child slowly. His gaze dropped to Kael's face—specifically the way his brow creased and his jaw tightened every few seconds. Like he was gritting his metaphorical teeth through some invisible storm.
"…Sensory overload," Ajuka muttered at last.
Venelana looked up. "What?"
Ajuka adjusted his glasses. "He's not in pain. Not exactly. But there's pressure. Something internal. His brain might be receiving more input than it can handle—light, sound, magical stimuli, even spiritual presence. It's overwhelming him. If he opens his eyes…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
The healers murmured in agreement. Several detection spells had already been cast. None could read what kind of energy flowed through the child. It wasn't demonic, divine, or sacred.
It was something completely alien.
"His body is reacting like it's being bombarded," one of them whispered.
Kael, meanwhile, was indeed feeling the full force of the Six Eyes awakening.
Even through closed eyelids, he could perceive everything. Every aura in the room, every fluctuation of devil magic, every breath someone took. The Limitless curled within him like a calm ocean waiting to become a hurricane.
He clenched his tiny fists harder. Too much… slow it down… I can't open my eyes yet.
Ajuka stepped forward suddenly.
Without a word, he grabbed a clean strip of cloth from a medical tray and carefully wrapped it around the baby's eyes. He moved quickly, but gently—tying it snug behind the infant's head.
"Until we understand more," he said, "we shield them. He needs insulation—something to filter whatever he's perceiving."
Sirzechs raised a brow. "Will that be enough?"
"No," Ajuka said, stepping back. "But it'll help. For now."
He looked at the baby one more time, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
"I'll design something better. Something that can filter stimuli more precisely. A true blindfold, one with magic woven into its threads. Give me time."
The tension in Kael's face relaxed slightly.
The cloth helped. Not enough to open his eyes, not yet—but enough to reduce the pressure from a tidal wave to a storm.
"Wow, look at you. First day out the womb and already getting a personal item from a genius. Must be nice."
Kael ignored the gacha system's commentary. His focus was elsewhere—on breathing, on stabilizing, on holding back the godlike powers boiling beneath his infant form.
"Has he still not opened his eyes?" one healer whispered.
Venelana shook her head. "Not once."
"He might not be able to," another offered. "Or he chooses not to."
Ajuka simply observed him in silence.
A baby who clenches his fists from strain. Who instinctively shields himself. Who endures instead of cries.
This one's different.
Kael remained silent.
Let them wonder. Let them theorize. No one would ever know the truth—
That he was holding back a storm.
And someday, when he did open his eyes… the Underworld would never be the same.
The manor was bustling. Word of the newborn Gremory child had spread fast, and for a noble family with immense status, every birth was a matter of political and magical curiosity.
But this one?
This one had the entire house on edge.
Inside Kael's private nursery—newly built and magically sealed—Venelana sat beside his crib, rocking gently as she watched her strange son. He was quiet. Always quiet.
He rarely cried.
He never opened his eyes.
And he wore the simple black cloth blindfold Ajuka had tied for him the day he was born.
She'd tried to read to him, to hum lullabies, even to introduce small magical toys. He never reacted strongly. Just the occasional faint smile or barely perceptible frown, like a critic giving a silent review of everything he experienced.
Still, Venelana had grown fond of him. Fiercely protective, in fact. Something about his calmness felt… ancient. A little frightening. And she didn't like how the nobles whispered.
Later that week, they held a formal introduction—a custom among noble devils. A quiet gathering. Close family. Few observers.
Zeoticus Gremory stood at the front, proud and poised. He lifted the small bundle of white-haired mystery for all to see.
"Behold—my son.
The second son of the Gremory line.
His name: Kael."
The room responded with polite claps and hushed curiosity.
Sirzechs, now dressed in full formal robes, stood beside his father, expression unreadable.
Kael didn't move in his arms. Just breathed softly, blindfold secured, fists gently curled. Even the nobility couldn't help but glance nervously at him. Something felt off. Not wrong—but unreadable.
After the ceremony, a few high-ranking nobles approached the family to pay respects.
Lord Bael, ever the prideful figure, stepped close and peered into the crib. "He… doesn't open his eyes?"
Venelana smiled politely. "No. He hasn't once since birth."
"He looks… tense." Bael squinted.
"Because he is," Ajuka said from the other side of the room, stepping in like a summoned spell. "I'm currently working on a better blindfold that will allow him to function more comfortably."
Bael raised a brow. "He can't function now?"
Ajuka shrugged. "He's handling more than most grown devils could."
Bael didn't reply—just grunted and turned away, muttering something about "oddities" in noble bloodlines.
Back in the corner, Kael was mentally filing everything.
"Wow. Nobles really know how to stare like they're looking at a lab rat."
The gacha system snickered in his mind.
"Maybe I should roll you a monocle. Fit right in."
Roll me a pie to throw at them instead, Kael thought.
"Noted."
When the crowd had thinned, Sirzechs finally approached the crib alone. He leaned over the edge, watching the tiny child lying there as still as ever.
"You're really something else," he whispered. "You don't cry. You don't flinch. Even Father's power didn't scare you. What are you hiding behind that cloth?"
Kael didn't respond. Of course not. But his head tilted ever so slightly.
Sirzechs blinked.
"…Did you just acknowledge me?"
Silence.
Sirzechs grinned.
"Guess we'll get along."
He gently placed a hand on the edge of the crib, just beside Kael's arm.
Kael didn't move.
But inside his mind?
Not bad. Might not mess with you. Too much.
As the day ended, and the guests faded back into their estates, the Gremory family quietly gathered in the private wing of their manor.
Venelana and Zeoticus. Sirzechs. Even a curious Grayfia, who had heard of the "silent baby devil."
They didn't understand him yet.
But they all agreed on one thing:
Kael was strange.
Mysterious.
Silent.
And one day, they suspected…
Terrifying
Kael Gremory was not a normal baby.
He didn't babble. He didn't giggle. He didn't reach for shiny things.
Instead, he sat quietly in his crib, expression unreadable beneath his blindfold, listening to the hum of magical energy in the air like most children listened to lullabies.
His mind was sharp. His thoughts were clear. His body, though infantile, was adapting more quickly than it should have. And deep within his soul, three sources pulsed with dormant power:
The Six Eyes, constantly adjusting to filter data even through total darkness.
The Limitless, sealed but simmering—Infinity already acting as a passive buffer between his skin and the world.
And Sukuna's curse, asleep but restless. A demon waiting for the door to crack open.
But at the forefront of his mind today?
The gacha system.
"Yo, Captain Blindfold. It's Day 2. Ready for your daily disappointment?"
Kael sighed mentally. Let's get it over with.
"Spinning the wheel of cosmic absurdity…"
"Congratulations! You've received: 'One (1) Portable Bento Box.' Description: A basic wooden lunch box. Smells faintly of soy sauce. May contain traces of rice from another dimension."
…Seriously?
"What, were you expecting Excalibur?"
I'd settle for a spoon with potential, at this point.
"You're in luck! The chopsticks are slightly enchanted. They hum when pointed toward dramatic tension."
Kael didn't respond. Just slowly filed the information away with a mental note to test the bento box later.
That afternoon, Venelana peeked into his room to check on him. She found Kael sitting up in his crib—completely upright and balancing far too well for a one-week-old.
He wasn't moving. Just holding the small bento box with his tiny hands, tilting his head toward it like a philosopher gazing upon a forbidden relic.
"…Zeoticus?" she called out without taking her eyes off him. "He's doing the weird thing again."
Later, Sirzechs entered. The moment he stepped into the room, the chopsticks in the box began to hum.
Sirzechs stopped.
"…What is that sound?"
Ajuka, arriving just behind him with a clipboard and a smug grin, simply replied, "Dramatic tension."
Sirzechs gave him a look. "You're enjoying this way too much."
Ajuka shrugged. "He's more fun than you were as a baby. You mostly drooled."
Kael, still facing the wall with the bento box in his lap, let out the faintest huff of amusement. None of them noticed it.
That night, Kael stared into the box again.
The system was silent for once. No taunting. No snark. Just stillness.
And Kael, against all odds, was content.
He didn't need a powerful weapon yet. He didn't need a miracle. He didn't need the world to know who he was.
All he needed… was time.
Time to grow.
Time to train.
Time to prepare.
Because someday, the blindfold would come off.
And when it did?
The Underworld would regret every smug glance. Every doubt. Every assumption.
Kael Gremory wasn't just a mystery.
He was a countdown.