The streets were already swallowed by the veil of night as Klaus walked calmly through the dark. His steps were aimless, his figure drifting like a ghost—lonesome, hollow, and spiritless.
He glanced at an old bar with a touch of gallows humor in his smile, shaking his head faintly.
The night felt unusually cold, despite it being summer. Klaus wore only a simple shirt, pants, and his signature white lab coat. A bizarre, ridiculous outfit—but he never seemed to care about appearances.
Smiling faintly, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bar was alive with noise—people laughing, drinking, talking like the world outside didn't matter.
Still, he wasn't in a rush to sit down or order a drink. He scanned the bar, as if searching for someone.
Meanwhile, Tatiana was already there, seated in a quiet corner, wearing an unremarkable outfit. She sipped a beer, her emerald eyes watching the room with weary alertness.
Sitting across from her was a woman with skin pale as death and eyes as blue and sharp as ice. Her lustrous black hair flowed down to her shoulders, and she wore the standard uniform of a government Master.
Tatiana glanced at her, then leaned back with a tired sigh.
"No use trying anything. The government asked him what reward he wanted… and this is it. Nothing will change that now."
Jet shrugged, clearly not too concerned. Her crystalline blue eyes were sharp but dulled with exhaustion—perhaps from overwork.
"I don't care what that smiling creep is up to. It's not my business. Wake of Ruin just asked me to be here in case things get out of hand."
Tatiana nodded, though her eyes held a trace of sorrow. Her exquisite features were drawn tight with concern.
"Good. I don't want anyone interrupting him…"
While they talked, Klaus had already found who he was looking for. With an exaggerated, humorous posture, he approached a table where a handsome man in his thirties was sipping wine with his partner. The man was tall, with short black hair and eyes, and brutal scar peeked out from beneath his collar.
His partner, a graceful woman, had playful black eyes and soft brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her smile was warm and subtly seductive.
Klaus smiled warmly at them, his expression cheerful and friendly.
"Привет, друг. Какой у тебя замечательный вкус... Можно?"
"Hey there, friend. You have excellent taste… May I?"
Klaus nodded toward the bottle of wine. The man looked at him, chewing his food, then glanced at the bottle. After exchanging a look with his partner, he shrugged.
"Конечно, продолжай."
"Sure, go ahead."
Klaus nodded, picked up the bottle and a glass, and began to pour himself some wine, watching each drop with mild fascination.
The man studied Klaus, wary yet curious. Then, after a sip of his own wine, he asked:
"Мы знакомы?"
"Do we know each other?"
Klaus tilted his head, downing the wine in one swift gulp before refilling his glass.
"Хм... Издалека — да."
"Hmm… From a distance—yes."
Tatiana was now fully focused on the conversation. She didn't interfere—just listened quietly, fingers laced together on the table, her expression shadowed with exhaustion and a flicker of grief.
The man continued cutting meat and placed a slice in his partner's mouth, which she chewed with a pleased hum. He then put down his knife and pushed his hair back.
"И? Чего ты хочешь?"
"So? What do you want?"
Klaus frowned slightly, twirling the glass in his hand before taking another sip. Then he turned to the woman, smiling politely and giving a small bow.
"У тебя прекрасная девушка."
"You have a lovely girlfriend."
The man gave her an amused look and shook his head.
"Ты пришёл сюда из-за этого?"
"You came here just to say that?"
Klaus leaned back in his seat, relaxing. His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand—unfocused, slightly hollow.
"Нет... Просто, я тоже любил... Одну маленькую девочку."
"No... It's just, I once loved someone too. A little girl."
The man raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fist with interest.
"Серьёзно, чувак? Что ты несёшь? В конце концов, мы все кого-то любим."
"Seriously, man? What are you going on about? We've all loved someone."
Klaus chuckled, nodding.
"Пожалуй..."
"Maybe so..."
The woman smiled, finding his reply oddly charming. The man, still grinning, gestured at the roasted meat on his plate.
"И эту курицу тоже любила её собственная мать."
"Even this chicken was loved by its mother."
He picked it up and showed it to Klaus.
"Вот, посмотри на неё."
"Here, take a look."
The woman giggled, covering her mouth with her palm. She leaned forward, eyes wide and curious, her voice soft and dreamy.
"А где теперь та маленькая девочка?"
"And where is that little girl now?"
Klaus lowered his gaze, letting out a humorless laugh.
"Она утопилась..."
"She drowned herself..."
The woman's expression fell, lips parting in quiet apology. The man's eyes widened in disbelief. He grabbed a piece of bread and bit into it silently.
"Утопилась... сама? Почему она утопилась?"
"She drowned… herself? Why would she do that?"
Klaus's expression darkened. A soft amethyst glow shimmered in his eyes. In the background, melancholic music played—quiet, distant.
"Потому что мы — животные, друг... Животные... Четверо ублюдков её изнасиловали... Всю ночь я её искал... Утром я нашёл её... У озера, она была зажата между камнями..."
"Because we are animals, my friend… Animals. Four bastards raped her… I searched for her all night. In the morning, I found her… by the lake, pinned between the rocks…"
At a nearby table, Tatiana quietly closed her eyes. She covered her face with one hand, but a single tear escaped and ran down her cheek.
Jet, frozen in place, didn't move. She didn't know what to do—but she really didn't like where this was going.
Klaus's expression was now hollow—utterly inhuman. He leaned forward, lighting a cigarette and inhaling the smoke slowly.
"На ней было белое платье... Знаешь, Иван... Она была такой красивой. Даже в смерти она была прекрасна."
"She was wearing a white dress... You know, Ivan... She was so beautiful. Even in death, she was beautiful."
Ivan's eyes widened in disbelief and horror. He tried to stand up—but couldn't. He felt frozen in place, paralyzed. He couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't even breathe. All he managed to do was whisper a few trembling words, his voice filled with terror as Klaus's eyes began to glow with that disturbing amethyst light.
"Как... ты знаешь моё имя?"
"How... do you know my name?"
Klaus laughed quietly, leaning back with one brow raised as smoke coiled around him, wrapping his figure in a ghostly shroud. The woman beside Ivan was clearly frightened now, frozen in place with wide eyes.
"Я нашёл троих, знаешь? Ты — последний..."
"I found the other three, you see? You're the last one..."
As those final words left Klaus's lips, Ivan's pupils dilated violently. His mind screamed at him.
Breathe, breathe, breathe… just breathe…
He was shaking. Sweat poured down his face. His heart thundered against his ribs, erratic and violent. His muscles clenched, and his breath turned shallow and ragged.
But Ivan was no longer in the bar.
And he wasn't facing Klaus.
He was in the Void—a formless, eternal chaos.
There was nothing, yet there was everything. An infinite chaos spread before him, and from that madness, something took shape—something unspeakable. Countless amethyst eyes, each etched with impossible patterns, opened across the abyss. Every single one of them was locked onto him.
The abomination had no stable shape. It shifted endlessly, like a blank canvas endlessly rewriting itself.
And then... the shape stabilized.
It became a colossal sandworm, so massive it seemed the universe itself strained to contain it. Rows upon rows of jagged, glass-like fangs opened within its abyssal maw.
Then it devoured everything—life, time, light, and Ivan himself—cell by cell, until nothing remained.
No light.
No darkness.
No sound.
Only an unknowable Void.
Klaus leaned back in his seat, one arm draped over his face as if shielding his eyes. Of course, it was all just an illusion. None of it was real.
But for Ivan?
It might as well have been.
When Klaus finally opened his eyes, screams were echoing through the bar. Ivan's headless body still sat in its chair, rigid and spasming. His partner, drenched in gore—blood, brain matter, chunks of flesh—was frozen in a state of absolute terror.
He didn't even know what he felt in that moment. His face was bleak and empty, frozen in time.
But his eyes were wide—unnaturally wide. Wide enough that they looked like they might bulge out and fall.
But then—he laughed.
A humorous grin stretched across his lips as he shook his head, looking around the bar. The other patrons were panicking, clawing at the exits, trying to escape. But it was no use.
The entire place was sealed.
From the outside world—and from salvation.
Klaus lingered a second longer, then gave a casual shrug—and snapped his fingers.
Like a line of dominoes, heads began to explode. One by one. Splashes of blood, bone, and flesh painted the walls until the entire bar was soaked in carnage.
Klaus stubbed out his cigarette on Ivan's neck, letting the embers hiss into the seared, headless stump.
Then, with haunting nonchalance, he began to eat.
The soft click of knife on porcelain echoed in the room, along with the delicate clink of cutlery.
Pleasant music played softly in the background—light, classical, almost cheerful.
Like nothing had happened at all.
***
Hey guys! How are you all doing?
So, this moment was actually foreshadowed way back in Chapter 3—when Klaus asked the government for information about Ivan. And yes, he was talking about Aurora, his lost love.
I'm not exactly sure how this chapter turned out—it's a bit short, but hopefully not too bad!
With this, the mini-arc officially comes to an end… and next up: the war arc begins!
As always, thank you so much for your support. It means a lot! Hope you enjoy the chapter!
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