Tempting Offer

Ki Song remained quiet for a while, her gaze lingering on the moonlit ripples of the lake. Despite wearing the delicate guise of a child, the weight of her presence was anything but innocent. Her aura, veiled behind youth, pressed heavy upon the air—an overwhelming force of will and intent.

Klaus grew increasingly impatient. He had better things to do than linger in moonlit gardens, exchanging stares and silence. Dozens of names buzzed in his mind—important people he was meant to meet, alliances to forge, schemes to set in motion. Noah might handle the social maneuvering in his absence, but Klaus hated depending on anyone. Especially with Cassie arriving soon. The thought of her waiting alone left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"…I wonder what could compel someone like you," he murmured at last, eyes narrowing, "to crawl out of your rotting castle and greet the moon."

Ki Song didn't look at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the mirrored surface of the lake, where the moon's pale reflection shimmered like a fractured coin. She sighed softly, as if the answer were so obvious it scarcely deserved to be spoken.

"You really are alive," she whispered. "I had my doubts… but recently, your movements have been more—reckless. You leave trails, little Star. Even if I hadn't felt the earthquakes and ripples of the Night Temple's desecration… I would've known."

Klaus reclined further, cigarette burning between his fingers. His posture was relaxed, but his smile—sharp and thin—cut like a blade. He crossed his legs and cocked his head, suspicion blooming in his voice.

"And what exactly gave me away?"

She finally turned toward him, and her expression curved with sly amusement.

"Perhaps the fact that no other Awakened could orchestrate the death of a Transcendent," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "You're the only one capable of such a thing, little Star."

Klaus clicked his tongue in annoyance. He had expected as much, but hearing it spoken aloud—his own mistakes echoed back at him—still irritated him.

"I figured you'd put it together eventually. The question is… what do you intend to do with that information?"

He glanced over his shoulder—and the child was gone.

In her place stood a vision of haunting beauty. The Raven Queen. Her skin pale as bone, with long raven-black hair cascading like a dark waterfall down her back. Her eyes glowed faintly—enchanting, yet cold, holding that ancient stillness found only in things long dead. She was breathtaking, and terrifying.

"You think I'll hand this over to Vale?" she asked softly. "Resume the hunt? I must admit… your deception was flawless. Even I believed you had truly died. But here you are—reborn, wearing a new face. Still, I can't decide whether I'm impressed or revolted by your… craftsmanship. Peeling off your own face—really, Icarus?"

Klaus chuckled darkly, smoke trailing from his lips.

"Coming from a walking corpse, that's a curious standard of disgust," he mused. "But yes… I am wary. So let me rest in peace, Aunt Ki. I'd like to stay dead a little while longer."

"Don't worry," she murmured. "I won't tell Vale. I'm not as heartless as he is… but I'll need something in return."

Klaus narrowed his eyes. Of course. He'd expected as much. Still, this could work in his favor.

He inhaled deeply, the cigarette burning low between his fingers.

"Let's hear it, then."

The Raven Queen studied him in silence, her playful demeanor fading. What remained was the cold gravity of a sovereign making war.

"You," she said at last. "I need you, Lightbringer. I need you to fight for me in the war that's coming. You know the signs. You stopped one before, once. But this time… you won't."

She leaned back, exhaling a tired breath that rustled the lake's surface.

"You're aware that Antarctica will soon become the battlefield—my forces against Vale's. I need your strength. Your mind."

Klaus said nothing, but his smile returned—crooked and amused, bordering on feral.

"So you want me as your sword? Fine. I'm not opposed. But don't mistake me for a pawn, Auntie. I have a price."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"I'm listening."

Klaus tapped ash from his cigarette and gave a wry, bitter laugh. His voice, when it came, was quieter.

"I want to pass on my blood," he said after a pause. "To someone unrelated by blood. I want… my legacy to live through my siblings."

For once, the Raven Queen looked genuinely surprised.

"You wish to share your blood with your adopted kin?" she murmured, eyes narrowing. "Touching. Noble, even. But no… I cannot do that. My ability allows me to control and pass blood to my chosen daughters, but not for you. I'm sorry, little Star… Ask for something else."

Klaus gritted his teeth, biting down on his frustration. He exhaled smoke harshly through his nose.

"Fucking hell…" he muttered. "Fine. Just don't tell that emo bastard I'm still breathing."

He paused, then let out a dry, amused laugh.

"…Gods, just who hurt that guy? Anvil walks around like the world stole his puppy and pissed on his grave."

Ki Song gave him a long, almost maternal look before shaking her head.

"Only you would mock a demigod like a sulking teenager. Anvil is Supreme, Icarus. He's not some broken-hearted schoolboy."

Klaus shrugged.

"In my eyes," he said simply, "he's a miserable mongrel. Nothing more."

He stood slowly, brushing ash from his coat. His smile sharpened.

"I can't waste my life chasing your ambitions, aunt Ki. I have my own goals. But I'll fight for you in Antarctica. I'll give you what information I have on the Valor forces. All I ask in return… is your blood."

Silence fell. For a long moment, the Raven Queen said nothing. Then, at last, she nodded.

"I can grant you that."

She stepped closer, studying him with new curiosity.

"But how do you even have access to Valor's secrets, my boy? How could you possibly—?"

He grinned, flicking the burnt end of his cigarette into the lake.

"That, my dearest aunt," he said with a wink, "is my business."

Klaus took a step back, intending to leave Ki Song in peace, but something unseen weighed on his shoulders. He halted mid-motion, as though shackled by invisible chains—the oppressive pressure of her supreme will bore down upon him like the weight of a mountain. He turned slowly, a nervous smile creeping onto his face.

"Uhmm... Auntie, can't a nephew enjoy a little freedom?"

She laughed, the sound as smooth and melodious as a wind chime in spring—pleasant, disarming, and oddly dangerous.

"Oh? I could allow that," she mused with a tilt of her head, "but I thought you might indulge me with a moment of conversation."

Klaus's smile faded as his brows furrowed, the amusement in his eyes giving way to a guarded curiosity. He nodded once.

"What is it, then?"

She did not answer immediately. Her silence was not hesitation but consideration, like a strategist examining a chessboard before making a decisive move.

"How about we deepen the bond between our families? I'm offering a marriage proposal. I've noticed your fondness for Eunbin. So, tell me… what would you think of such an arrangement?"

Klaus arched a brow, intrigued despite himself. A tempting offer—undeniably so. The Chaos Ascendancy would soar in power, bolstered by such an alliance... yet power never came without strings. Accepting meant inviting Ki Song's influence into the heart of his organization, opening doors to her watchful eyes, her ambitions—and likely, her spies.

He had bled too much from betrayal already.

To safeguard against such treachery, Klaus had long since instituted protocols: each of his subordinates underwent intense screening, their memories inspected by Miseria, their loyalty etched into bone and soul by Lich's runes. They had the freedom to walk away before joining—and if they refused the terms, Miseria would erase their memories entirely, as if the Chaos Ascendancy had never touched their lives.

Even so... it was a tantalizing offer.

Klaus had no qualms about selling his own body, if the price brought profit or power—but his pride? That was a different matter. He could endure subservience, but never enjoy it.

"And why," he asked at last, voice dry, "would you offer me something so... generous? What makes you think I won't betray you?"

She smiled, the gesture softening her sharp, elegant features.

"Hmm... A fair concern. But I accepted the Prince of Nothing—Mordret—into my ranks, didn't I? I assume you're the one who nudged him toward me. His Aspect is versatile, yes, but it is utility at its core. Divine or not, it can be countered with enough insight. Surely, you understand where I'm going with this?"

Klaus chuckled darkly, folding his arms.

"Oh, I see it clearly. You're anticipating Nephis's return. You know she'll side with Valor, and that puts you at a disadvantage. So you want me—her brother—to crush her in your stead. How poetic."

Ki Song nodded with dispassionate grace, as though plotting fratricide were a mundane chore.

"Why?" he asked, voice colder now. "Still worried I might care for her?"

"She's your sister," she said simply. "But Mordret insisted you care only for the family you choose, not the one you were born into. Perhaps he's wrong. Perhaps a flicker of sentiment still burns in you... Who knows, truly?" She leaned back, water flowing over her feet in gentle currents. "But you understand something Nephis does not—the true weight of a Divine Aspect. You possess one. Mordret does. And so does she. Nephis is an undying force of destruction—capable of breaking Mordret. But you... I am convinced—no one of equal standing can best you. That is why I make this offer."

He tilted his head slightly, amused.

"You're right about Nephis. She'd go to Anvil—his cold, apathetic heart is easier to fool. You, on the other hand…" His eyes twinkled with mock admiration. "You're far too shrewd for her childish games."

Ki Song's gaze remained steady.

"Indeed. Do you think me a fool? We shattered her world, razed her family. She breathes vengeance. It would be idiocy not to expect retaliation. Cliché, yes—but predictable. And since you're her brother, we shattered your world too... yet you gave us the means to do it." Her voice softened, but did not lose its edge. "You understand the greater good. She does not. She's still a child."

Klaus said nothing for a moment. The weight of this conversation was shifting, and not in a direction he liked. His smile became brittle.

"Maybe I do understand it. But you should know—I no longer care for the world, or for humanity. I've done my duty. It's over. Now, I serve only myself."

Ki Song frowned slightly, her head tilting as if studying a wounded animal.

"Do you? Perhaps. The world did not reward your faith, I know. Wars, betrayal, grief, suffering... It's no wonder you lost faith in humanity. Still… even shattered, you protect your own. You always did. You don't have to pretend, Klaus. Not to me. You don't need to act like the rest of us—performing goodness like it's a role. You were kind. You still are."

Klaus burst into laughter, throwing his head back and slapping his knee, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Kind? Me?" he scoffed. "Now that's a performance worthy of the stage. But no, I'm not like you. I'm not afraid of change. I cast off my humanity long ago. I no longer care which face I wear or what fate befalls the rest of you. I simply want to do whatever I please. That's it."

He spread his hands in a careless shrug, voice casual, almost relaxed.

"Drink. Smoke. Fuck. Destroy. Create. Change. I just want to indulge myself. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I don't. I don't care. Morals are fine, sure. But I'll be the judge of what's right and wrong for me. Whether I commit kindness or cruelty—it will be my choice. A balance between sin and virtue, perhaps."

She stared at him, silent, almost stunned by the vehemence in his tone and the mania in his eyes.

"I see... Well, enough philosophy. What do you think of my proposal?"

Klaus gave a small shake of his head, an almost theatrical refusal. Her eyes narrowed, but before she could speak, he smiled—charming, almost cheerful.

"I'm not sure about myself and Eunbin..." he said slowly, lifting a hand to gesture toward the balcony beyond. Though it lay hundreds of meters away, both he and Ki Song possessed the sight to perceive it clearly.

Two young women stood there in quiet conversation. One—Moonveil—was ethereal in her beauty, her alabaster hair shimmering like spun moonlight, her eyes reflecting a dreamlike glow.

The other—taller, regal, and resplendent in a dark, gem-studded gown—was breathtaking. Her golden hair flowed like sunlight over her shoulders, and her emerald eyes glowed with charm and intelligence. Her presence was magnetic.

Tatiana.

Of course it was his sister.

Klaus chuckled, tilting his head in mock thought.

"Well? It seems my sister fancies your daughter. So, I believe we have ourselves a deal."

Ki Song considered that. Having Klaus would've been more advantageous—but even Tatiana wasn't a poor prize. Clever boy… He had preserved his sovereignty and offered his sister instead. A subtle refusal dressed as cooperation.

"Welcome to the family, Mr. Zakharov."

Klaus shook her hand, his smile steady. But inwardly, he grimaced.

Sorry, sis... Ahh... I really fucked up this time.