In the ruined corridor where Klaus had fallen, nothing moved. His body lay broken, the forbidden Reality Severance spell having extracted its terrible price. Blood pooled beneath his motionless form, flesh ashen and torn, the rune on his palm dim and fading. The homunculi kept their distance, silver bodies hovering at the periphery, awaiting instructions.
Within the darkness of Klaus's failing consciousness, sothing stirred. Not the Klaus Lionhart who had led Team 55, who had fought to protect his comrades—but sothing older, sothing that had always existed behind the façade. His true self.
The space between heartbeats stretched into eternity. In this lightless void where consciousness hovered at the edge of oblivion, a presence manifested—ancient and terrible, familiar yet alien.
Gluttony.
"The vessel is dying," Gluttony's voice resonated through the void, not spoken but felt. "Your current incarnation has damaged it beyond self-repair."
A cold laughter echoed in response—Klaus's voice, yet fundantally different. Colder. Crueler. Utterly devoid of the humanity his current self had displayed.
"How amusing," Klaus's true self said. "My current incarnation is surprisingly resourceful. Using a forbidden spell to stop that pathetic creature... I didn't think this version of had such potential."
"The vessel will cease functioning within minutes," Gluttony replied dispassionately. "All your preparations will be wasted."
The true Klaus seed unconcerned. "Is that why you've broken our agreent? To warn of what I already know?"
"The agreent was non-interference until certain conditions were t," Gluttony reminded him. "Those conditions now exist."
Another cold laugh. "Indeed they do. The Opposition moves openly at last. The fools actually believe they can control a gateway between worlds."
In the physical world, the rune on Klaus's palm flickered weakly, responding to the conversation occurring beyond mortal perception.
"What would you have do?" Gluttony asked, though the question seed rely ceremonial—a formality between ancient conspirators.
"Take the vessel," Klaus's true self commanded. "It's damaged, but serviceable enough for your purposes. Stop whatever that weak thing is attempting."
"And the survivors? The human girl?"
A dismissive sound, like wind through dead leaves. "Save her if you can. This incarnation was trying so hard to protect her... it would be a sha to waste such dedication." The cruel amusent in his tone made it clear that human lives ant nothing to him beyond their utility.
"Another Arkdieu must be behind this," the true Klaus continued. "Or perhaps an apostle playing at greater ambitions. Either way, I find it irritating. Centuries of careful planning threatened by this... distraction."
"You see this as rely an inconvenience?" Gluttony asked.
"I see it as entertainnt," the true Klaus replied, his voice laced with malevolence. "Let them fail. Let their precious Convergence collapse. It amuses to watch them scramble for power they cannot comprehend."
"As you wish."
In the physical world, darkness began to seep into the corridor—not from any entrance, but from the spaces between spaces, from a realm parallel yet forever separate. The darkness coalesced around Klaus's broken body, tendrils of void-like energy probing at his flesh.
The rune blazed to life with obsidian light, responding to Gluttony's presence. The inky darkness flowed into Klaus through the mark, following pathways that connected vessel to Arkdieu.
Within the void of consciousness, the true Klaus watched with cold satisfaction. "Don't get too comfortable in my body, old friend. This is a temporary arrangent."
"As all things are," Gluttony responded. "I will return the vessel when my task is complete."
"See that you do." The true Klaus's presence began to recede deeper into the darkness. "I have plans for this world that require patience... and proper timing."
"Your ambitions have always exceeded your reach," Gluttony noted without inflection.
A final, chilling laugh echoed through the void. "And yet, here you are, doing my bidding once again."
With that, the true Klaus vanished into the depths of his own consciousness, leaving Gluttony to take control of the dying vessel.
In the corridor, Klaus's body convulsed violently as Gluttony's essence flowed deeper. Blood seeped from his eyes, his ears, his mouth—not from injury but from the fundantal incompatibility between mortal flesh and an Arkdieu's power.
The homunculi finally overca their hesitation, flowing forward with chanical precision. Crystal appendages extended, hardening into weapons as they approached. Before they could reach him, a pulse of pure darkness erupted from the rune, expanding outward in perfect silence. Where it touched the artificial beings, they simply ceased to exist—not destroyed but consud, their substance drawn into the void.
Klaus's fingers twitched. Then his hand. His arm. Movents impossible given the catastrophic damage to his body. The blackened veins spread further, tracing patterns across his skin that resembled no human anatomy—sigils and whorls that spoke of sothing ancient and inhuman.
His back arched suddenly, body convulsing one final ti as Gluttony completed the possession. Then, with eerie stillness, the body went quiet.
For a mont, nothing happened. The darkness receded, the blackened veins faded, the rune's glow dimd to a faint ember.
Then Klaus's eyes snapped open.
Where once there had been blue irises, now existed only darkness—absolute and all-consuming, as if soone had carved holes in reality itself. Not rely black pupils or darkened sclerae, but abyssal depths that reflected no light, showed no bottom, contained nothing but void.
His silver hair began to change, color draining away from root to tip, replaced by the sa consuming darkness that filled his eyes. Within seconds, every strand had transford, becoming not rely black but a shade beyond black—a color that seed to devour light rather than rely absorb it.
With chanical precision, the body rose to its feet. Movent that should have been impossible with such injuries now executed with fluid grace. Blood still seeped from nurous wounds, yet they no longer affected the vessel's functionality.
"Insufficient." The voice that erged from Klaus's throat was his yet not his—layered with resonances that no human vocal cords could produce. "This vessel is damaged beyond optimal functionality."
Gluttony flexed Klaus's fingers, observing the movent with clinical detachnt. "The forbidden spell nearly destroyed it completely. Integration is... imperfect."
He turned Klaus's head, those abyssal eyes perceiving energy flows invisible to normal senses. Through layers of concrete and steel, he could see the Convergence nearing completion in the barrier control chamber above—could sense the Duke directing the process, unaware that the ga had fundantally changed.
"The Opposition moves openly at last," Gluttony observed. "As was inevitable."
The rune on Klaus's palm pulsed with renewed intensity, channeling more power into the damaged vessel. Fresh blood seeped from his wounds, yet Gluttony paid it no mind. The body was rely a tool, a temporary conduit for a fragnt of his true power.
"This vessel will not sustain my presence for long," he acknowledged. "Hours at most. Perhaps less."
He began to move toward the distant barrier control station, each step leaving faint afterimages in the air—not from speed but from imperfect integration with physical reality. The body moved with unnatural fluidity, joints bending at angles impossible for a normal human.
As Gluttony ascended through the ruined facility, his abyssal eyes narrowed slightly—the only outward indication of his thoughts. "The threshold must not be completed. The Opposition must not succeed."
Whether this intervention served humanity's interests or rely the inscrutable gas of beings beyond mortal comprehension remained unclear. The only certainty was that sothing ancient and terrible now walked the halls of Northwatch, wearing Klaus's flesh like an ill-fitting garnt.
As he approached the upper levels of the containnt zone, the distant sounds of battle reached him—Alexandra's desperate last stand against the Duke and his forces. The threshold between worlds was nearly complete, the barrier reconfigured into a doorway that would soon open fully.
Gluttony paused, black eyes staring upward through layers of concrete and steel.
"It begins."
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