Klaus stood still, his sharp gaze flicking between Mordret and Cassie, suspicion darkening his expression. The caution in his eyes slowly morphed into thoughtful doubt, his features tightening as he spoke, voice low and cold.
"Hmm... Cas, that really you?" His voice was mocking, casual—but his fingers twitched over his spear. "Because I'm like… this close to blowing your head off just in case."
Cassie's eyes widened, her expression torn between disbelief and outrage.
"What the hell do you mean blast my head off? You heartless, paranoid bastard! Of course it's me! What kind of psycho opens with that?!"
Klaus grimaced, taking a small step back with a casual shrug.
"Then prove it."
Cassie let out an incredulous sigh, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Is this some kind of new flirting tactic? Because if it is, it's trash."
He raised an eyebrow, visibly thrown for a moment before sighing in almost disappointment.
"...Yeah, alright. It's you. Guess your pretty little head gets to stay on."
Before she could spit back a retort, Mordret smiled—that smile—and his fingers twitched near her spine. The message was clear.
"My, my... Such a romantic reunion. I never imagined you capable of such tender affection, Dream. I always thought you were a heartless monster without a shred of conscience."
Klaus didn't react. He leaned on his spear, one hand in his pocket like he was waiting in line for coffee.
"Meh... Don't flatter yourself. And I'm not the traitor here—you are, you silver-eyed freak."
Mordret's smile soured, the silver in his eyes chilling to a glacial sheen.
"Is that so? Your words ring hollow, Dream. You watched in silence while they destroyed my Reflections—my birthrights. They shattered my body, fractured my soul, and locked me in that damned box for years... and you—" his voice trembled, venomous "—you did nothing."
Klaus's gaze drifted toward the wreckage, as if searching for something more interesting than his accusations. Then, slowly, he raised a finger, pointing it straight at Mordret as he took a step forward, irritation bleeding into his voice.
"I did everything I could to protect you—"
Mordret laughed, a sharp, bitter bark that echoed through the air. He released Cassie, replacing himself with a mirrored Reflection that pressed a blade against her back. Then, with a flare of dramatic flair, he leapt from the cliff's edge and landed before Klaus with the grace of a fallen angel.
"Protect me?" he spat, grinning with manic disbelief. "You're ashamed of me! You stood there like a coward and watched while they dragged me away. Watched while they tortured me. Watched while they buried me alive in that box."
Something snapped in Klaus.
"I never watched you suffer!" he shouted, voice raw and full of fury. His expression twisted, cold and unforgiving. "I warned you Anvil would never accept you! I told you he would never see you as anything but a fucking monster! He wasn't just a power-hungry lunatic. He was a Supreme. What the hell was I supposed to do, Mirror?!"
Klaus's voice lowered, but the intensity didn't waver. His eyes burned with bitter light.
"I was a child. And so were you. I begged you to stay with me. Begged. We had no one else. But you—" his voice cracked slightly, only for a moment "—you left me. You left me to chase power, to chase glory. You wanted to be the Prince of War… and your reward? Your own people chained you like a dog."
He laughed bitterly, his arms wide in a gesture of defiance and pride. His eyes shimmered with a mix of rage and insanity.
"And yet… despite all of that, I was the only one who accepted you. As you were. No matter how monstrous, no matter how cruel. You were my brother. Blood or not, I didn't care. I just wanted you by my side."
His voice dipped, low and lethal. "So what the hell do you want from me now?"
Mordret stared at Klaus, expression hollow. But then—faintly, almost imperceptibly—true emotion flickered in his silver eyes. A mixture of hatred and fury.
"I wanted you to fight for me!" he hissed. "I wanted you to do something! I screamed for you when they tore my soul apart. And you never came. So maybe… maybe all this rage belongs to you."
Klaus snorted. "Of course you did."
Klaus let out a cold, humorless laugh, throwing his head back as if mocking the gods themselves. His smile was sharp enough to cut glass, eyes wild.
"Ahhh, of course! All this rage, always directed at me. I'm the eternal sinner, the world's favorite scapegoat. It's always my fault, isn't it? Go on then. Blame me. I don't care anymore."
His voice dropped, the final words delivered with venom and finality.
"Guess what, brother. That status? The one where I gave a shit? That little label where you still mattered to me have been... Revoked."
Behind them, Cassie stood frozen—shoulders tense, eyes wide. Her hands trembled slightly, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn't expected this. Not the emotion in Mordret's voice. Not the sheer wrath bleeding off Klaus in crashing waves of killing intent.
But in some twisted way... it made sense. She could see it clearly now. They were raised together—bound not by blood, but by loneliness, desperation, and pain. In a world that had given them nothing, they had only each other.
And now, even that had shattered.
Klaus's eyes were hollow. Empty. His expression unreadable, as if even the weight of the moment failed to stir anything inside him.
"And now what?" he asked, voice low, almost bored. "What exactly do you hope to achieve with this little spectacle? What is it you want, Mirror?"
For a beat, Mordret said nothing. Then he let out a soft, almost delighted laugh, like a child presented with a long-awaited gift.
"Oh, Dream. I think I know exactly what I want..." He tilted his head, smile widening. "I want to kill all your precious little spirits."
Silence.
Then Klaus laughed—a jagged, humorless sound as he clutched his knee, trembling with wicked amusement.
"Ah, of course! How could I forget?" He leaned forward, grinning madly. "But the answer is no, dear brother. So kindly go fuck yourself."
There was no hesitation in his tone. No remorse.
Klaus would never agree to that. It had taken nearly a decade to bind the right spirits—each one an anomaly, a sliver of his soul made manifest. They were aberrations, yes, but so was he. Even Loki, that deceitful little shit, was his creation… his child, in some twisted way only he could understand.
Mordret chuckled and leaned casually on his sword, gaze drifting over the scorched wreckage around them.
"Oh? But they're dangerous, aren't they? And getting more dangerous by the day... Or perhaps," he said with a dark glint in his eye, "I should enlighten your charming little witch over there. Share a few truths she might find… disturbing."
He turned, casting a sly glance at Cassie, and smiled—a grin laced with venom.
"You see, Lady Cassia, every spirit he's crafted serves a very specific purpose. Each one tailored with exquisite precision to eliminate those who carry divine blood." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Take Lich, for example. The old bag of bones can trap me in a cage of seals I can't escape. Then there's that formidable dark knight—an avatar of true darkness, the one element that nullifies my reflections..."
He spread his hands innocently, a picture of feigned disbelief.
"Quite the coincidence, wouldn't you say, Lady Cassia?"
Cassie said nothing. She studied them in silence, mind spinning. Mordret's words had a terrible weight to them. She didn't want to believe it—but the pieces were there. Klaus's spirits… they were too well-designed. Too specific. It did look as if he created them to kill those like her friends… inheritors of Divine Lineages.
Mordret's smile widened as he noticed her hesitation.
"And what of Sunless, hmm? True darkness is the natural predator of shadow, just as it is the eternal rival of light. Your precious Klaus is killing three birds with one stone. Doesn't it trouble you… knowing he forged monsters tailored to destroy your allies?"
He offered her a pleasant smile, as if he were sharing a secret over tea.
Klaus rolled his eyes and slumped down onto the upturned deck of the ruined ship, exhaling with evident irritation. He knew what Mordret was doing. Stalling. Buying time. But so was he. Every breath, every heartbeat gave him a moment to recover his essence. And though Mordret hadn't openly spilled secrets, he had left enough breadcrumbs for someone as intelligent as Cassia to trace the truth.
"I won't kill them," Klaus said flatly. "End of conversation."
Mordret studied him for a moment, his smile fading into something colder. Something quieter.
Then, with a sigh that sounded almost regretful, he said, "Then I suppose… I'll have to kill her, hmm?"
Cassie's breath hitched. Her eyes flicked between the two of them, unease blooming in her chest. Her essence stirred, finally returning enough strength for her to glimpse the immediate future. She turned to Klaus with mounting dread.
He wasn't smiling anymore.
No quip. No teasing glint. Just that flat, unreadable expression—so cold it scraped against her bones. It wasn't anger. It wasn't madness. It was detachment—that terrifying, clinical apathy she had only seen in someone like... No, she didn't know anyone who was looking at life with so much indifference.
Then, slowly, Klaus lips curled into a smile—an unsettling, razor-thin thing that didn't reach his eyes.
"Then do it."
Mordret raised an eyebrow, amused. Then he laughed again and turned to Cassie, flashing her a grin that made her stomach turn.
"As you wish."
He snapped his fingers.
A heartbeat later, Cassie gasped as a reflection emerged behind her—blade piercing her chest with surgical precision. Her sightless eyes went wide, confusion and betrayal washing over her face just as the reflection kicked her over the cliff's edge.
Klaus's eyes remained as cold as ever as he watched her body fall. Then, jaw clenched, he raised his arm. Cassie froze mid-air, suspended like a marionette on invisible strings. A blazing light erupted beside him as Hemera tore free from his soul sea, wings ablaze with furious, golden fire. She dove down like a comet, catching Cassie's limp body and cradling it in flames that refused to burn—only warm, only heal.
Mordret paused, expression tightening.
Hemera was here? That didn't make sense. If she was with Klaus, why hadn't he used her flames to heal himself? Why hadn't he unleashed his spirits from the beginning?
Why was he fighting alone?
Something wasn't right.
And more than that… he'd hesitated. He'd saved her.
Mordret tilted his head.
"So you really do love her…" he murmured. "You pitiful bastard."
He clucked his tongue, then grinned, stepping forward like a man about to deliver a killing blow.
"Well, well. This is a development. But you do realize I could kill her right now, don't you?" His tone was light, almost playful. "If I unleashed all my reflections… she'd be ash before your little phoenix could blink. And you, my dearest brother, are running on fumes. You did something stupid again, didn't you? You really reduced yourself to a mere demon… just for your twisted experiments?"
He gestured grandly. "Cornered. Exhausted. Spiritless. The Mighty Original Dream—reduced to a broken matchstick."
Klaus said nothing. He didn't need to. Everything Mordret said was true. He'd exhausted himself, and Hemera's flames were flickering. They weren't healing, just delaying the inevitable. If they fought here and now, Cassie would be caught in the crossfire—and she would die. Even if he won, he wouldn't have the strength left to act. All his preparations, all his plans, wasted.
He leaned back against the wreckage of the ruined ship, the hull splintered and overturned beside him.
"Let's make a deal, then…" he murmured.
***
Yeah, i know i made Mordret more emotional here but i needed some way to explain their bitterness and past.
I think what happened to Cassie was little unexpected but what did you expect? He has attribute called Cold-blooded. It's not for decoration. Well, he bluffed but that didn't end well, huh?
So how was it? Do you have anything to say about this chapter?
And lastly, im glad you're enjoying story and grateful for your support!
Enjoy :)
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