Klaus leaned against the wall, a glass of bourbon cradled in his hand, his expression unreadable beneath the soft, flickering light. The air around him was heavy, not with dread, but with a sense of something inevitable pressing in. Things had grown... complicated.
If he was being honest with himself, he didn't truly hate Ki Song. No, hatred required a certain simplicity, a certain blindness—one Klaus no longer possessed. He understood her. And that, perhaps, was the real curse. When you could understand someone's reasons for cruelty, for betrayal, for violence... it became harder to condemn them, even when you wanted to.
That was one of the many cruel ironies of the Law of Original Sin. It granted him sight—clarity so sharp it could cut through lies, through masks, down to the bone of truth. But that same clarity came with a price. Sometimes, the truth wasn't a light in the dark—it was the darkness itself. And in seeing it, Klaus often found himself flirting with madness.
He no longer considered himself entirely sane. Not after everything he had endured, witnessed, become. He chuckled softly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. It was a strange sort of amusement—half bitter, half indulgent. His habits certainly didn't scream "stability." But then again, he had stopped pretending to be stable long ago.
Still, he was at peace with himself—or at least, with the parts of himself that remained. The rest… well, he wasn't so sure. A part of him still clung stubbornly to the shreds of his humanity, even as the rest of him continued to ascend into something far beyond mortal. But even that resistance was fading. Sooner or later, he would shed the last of what made him human. He could feel it coming like a storm on the horizon.
It wasn't just the way he lived now—or rather, the way he didn't. He barely ate anymore, not out of discipline or asceticism, but because his body no longer seemed to need it. Days, weeks, even months could pass without food, and he wouldn't notice. It should've felt unnatural. It should've disturbed him.
But it didn't.
And that was what troubled him the most—not that he was drifting away from mortality, but that he no longer found anything strange about it. His bottom line, the one that once defined where his conscience began and his cruelty ended, was slipping. Lower and lower. Until, eventually, there would be no line left at all.
And what then?
He wasn't naïve. He knew what he was: a cruel, sadistic bastard wrapped in charm and intellect. But what would he become once he shed even the illusion of restraint? What monstrous version of himself waited at the end of that descent?
He took a slow sip from his glass, the bourbon warm and smoky against his tongue. His calm eyes—so often void of emotion—carried a subtle flicker of unease.
And then, strangely, his lips curled into a smile.
He paused, frowning at himself. Why am I smiling?
Klaus shook his head with a quiet sigh.
The glass in his hand shattered without a sound, shards suspended in the air like tiny stars—frozen in time. Then, with a soft pulse of magic, they compressed into a single, glittering speck no larger than a grain of sand.
He studied the dot floating above his palm for a moment, expression blank, then flicked it out the window without a second thought.
His gaze drifted ahead—there she was. Tatiana, laughing softly while chatting with MoonVeil. Perfect timing. Things were finally aligning.
Yes, he had technically sold his sister to the Song Clan, but come on—why dwell on the negative?
"This is just... strategic diplomacy," Klaus muttered under his breath. "An opportunity for growth. And happiness. Possibly lesbian happiness, but still—happiness."
Besides, Tatiana did seem to like her. That counted for something, right?
He waited, watching from the shadows as MoonVeil chuckled at something and stepped away to grab drinks, leaving Tatiana momentarily alone.
That was his cue.
Klaus's form shimmered, blurred, and then condensed into a slender, bashful-looking girl. Delicate features, nervous posture, a soft, hesitant smile. A disguise so sweet it gave him a sugar rush just looking at it.
Time to test his new Ascended ability.
He stepped forward with a flustered giggle.
"Oh my! What a lovely surprise! Aren't you Lady Tatiana?"
Tatiana blinked, surprised—but not unpleasantly so. The girl before her was adorable, squirming slightly and unable to meet her eyes. Tatiana smiled, intrigued.
"That would be me, love. And your hostess for the night. How can I help you?"
Klaus felt a thrill shoot down his spine. Not because he was crossdressing—well… maybe a little because of that—but mostly because this might actually work.
"Oh? It's nothing, really," he said, hands wringing nervously. "I just… I saw Saint MoonVeil and, well… I've heard she's so gentle. So graceful. So—um—composed…"
He gave a sweet, dreamy sigh, cheeks tinged red. Then, peeking up shyly from beneath lowered lashes, he asked:
"Miss Tatiana... Do you... like Saint MoonVeil? I-I mean, I wouldn't blame you! She's so beautiful..."
Tatiana tilted her head, expression flickering with amusement and a spark of mischief.
What was this girl's angle?
Sure, she liked MoonVeil—who wouldn't? But this little sugarplum acting like a lovesick puppy was definitely fishing for something. A wicked gleam entered her eye as she leaned in, voice coy and silky.
"Who knows~ I might fancy her. But I'm far more interested in why you care so much..."
Inside, Klaus grimaced.
Lesbian alert!
He nearly rolled his eyes—but externally, he maintained his sweet-girl façade, eyes going wide as he backed away nervously.
"I-it's nothing! Forgive me!"
And with that, he darted back into the crowd, leaving Tatiana blinking in confusion.
She huffed, brushing her hair back with an exasperated sigh.
"What a weird kid... cute, though."
Meanwhile, across the hall, Klaus repeated the exact same stunt with MoonVeil herself—same lines, same face, same flustered awkwardness.
And based on the results?
It could work.
It could actually fucking work!
Hell yeah! He wasn't dying today, boys!
He practically skipped down the corridor once it was over, his grin stretching ear to ear.
The best part? He hadn't even changed his outfit. Same clothes. Same perfume. Same ring. And neither of them noticed. Not even Tatiana.
Now that… was interesting.
So this is how the new ability works... huh.
Klaus smirked to himself, lips curled like a knife's edge.
He was very pleased.
Klaus sat at the now-deserted bar, swirling a glass of orange juice like it was aged brandy, wearing the most done-with-this-shit expression imaginable. The ballroom was long since emptied. The dancing was over, the champagne was flat, and the people had slithered off to do whatever backroom deals or scandals they did best.
And yet... his lover still hadn't shown up.
He tapped the rim of his glass, brooding like a rejected Victorian widow.
"Where the hell is Cassie?" he grumbled to Anna, who was sipping something dangerously green beside him.
"Maybe she got caught up?"Anna offered with a bright smile, hoping to calm him down.
"Caught up? I swear to the gods, did I get dumped?!" Klaus hissed, half in panic, half in indignation. "No—no, no, no. I did not fumble. I'm not fumbling twice."
He glared into the orange juice like it held all the answers.
A horrible memory surfaced.
One he'd tried very, very hard to bury.
The Professor Incident.
Gods, no. Anything but that.
Back then, he'd been barely sixteen—bold in combat, fearless in battle, with a penchant for older women and a brain full of teenage hormones. And he was absolutely useless when a certain professor, with long legs, a tight blazer, and devastating confidence, gave him a sultry wink in a café.
What did he do? What did the great Klaus, The Smiling Man and The Morning Star, do?
He teleported.
On reflex.
Right out of the café.
Straight into a supply closet.
And stayed there for six hours.
Hiss... Even killing Dad was a walk in the park compared to that traumatizing experience...
"Never again," he muttered grimly, taking another sip of orange juice like it owed him rent.
Anna, who had been leaning on the bar next to him, gave him a nervous glance.
"You look like someone poisoned your orange juice with regret, sir."
"They might as well have."
Right then, the ballroom doors creaked open.
A guard stood tall and bellowed, "Presenting the Ascended: Song of the Fallen! Raised by Wolves! Nightingale! Sunless!"
But Klaus didn't flinch. Didn't turn. Didn't even blink.
He just stared at his drink like it had betrayed him.
Meanwhile, Cassie stepped into the hall… and paused immediately.
Sunny, standing in the hallway, was practically vibrating with rage. In his hands, he clutched a crumpled letter like it had personally murdered his dog. His jaw was clenched, his aura borderline murderous.
Cassie offered a nervous smile, stepping beside him like someone approaching a bear mid-rampage.
"Sunny… I'm sure it was just a joke. You know how Klaus is. His sense of humor is…" She hesitated. "...unique."
Sunny turned his head with the slowness of tectonic plates shifting.
"You read this?"
Cassie winced.
"I… glanced."
Effie, meanwhile, was wheezing. When the letter had first arrived, she had been at Sunny's place. Naturally, she read it before he did. Naturally, she didn't keep it to herself. She told Kai. Kai told someone else. And now? Now even the Firekeepers knew it.
"Give me that," she said, snatching the letter from Sunny's trembling hands with the gleeful energy of someone about to read the emo kid's dairy.
She cleared her throat dramatically and began in her best Klaus voice, full of mockery and charm:
"Hey Sunny. Remember when I beat the shit out of you? I wasn't even going all out, dawg.
What did you expect, you poor bum? That your outskirts-ass could do something?
Anyway, after not really thinking about it, I've decided to invite you to my party to celebrate my second nightmare completion.
It's not like your masturbator dick can pull something like that again after I broke every bone in your motherfucking body.
Seriously, don't come after me again. Fuck you, It wasn't even a good duel.
With love,
From someone who used your face as a cum towel :---"
There was a moment of pure, stunned silence.
Then Effie exploded into laughter again, wheezing like a hyena as she clutched her stomach.
Cassie had turned a deep crimson and was now trying to un-exist herself via sheer willpower.
Sunny… Sunny just stared at the floor like it had personally betrayed him.
Effie snorted. "Honestly? Ten outta ten letter. Iconic."
Back at the bar, Klaus gave a faint smile, distant but smug.
"Ah, poetry," he murmured to no one. "And people say I don't know how to write."
***
Hey everyone! I'm back!
Sorry for the long break — exams have been eating me alive (and they're still not over, help).
But hey, I finally found a bit of time to write again… and guess what? Comedy is back! I really needed a break from all the serious drama.
That said, I won't be able to release chapters as frequently as before, so thanks in advance for your patience.
As always, huge thanks for your support — you guys seriously keep me going.
Enjoy the chapter, and until next time!
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