Chapter 4: The remnant

Axel stepped out of the elevator, the soft chime signaling his arrival on the apartment floor. The corridor stretched ahead, familiar yet distant, as if viewed through a foggy lens of memories not entirely his own. The walls bore the same neutral tones, the carpet muffled his footsteps just as he remembered—or rather, as the original Axel remembered.

As he approached his apartment, the door opened, revealing James, who was just stepping out. The two locked eyes briefly.

"I've placed your bags inside," James said, his tone casual but with a hint of concern.

Axel nodded, offering a faint smile. "Thanks, James."

James gave a small wave before heading down the corridor, leaving Axel alone. He turned to face the door, the keypad awaiting his input. Fingers hovered over the keys as he punched in the familiar code. The lock clicked open with a soft beep.

Note to self: Change the password. Can't have everyone knowing it.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to be greeted by a sight that made him freeze in place.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath.

The living room was a shrine to the color purple. Lavender walls, violet curtains, and a plush lilac rug that felt like stepping onto a cloud. The furniture was upholstered in various shades of purple, and even the TV and game console had custom purple skins. Gigantic plushies, some larger than life, occupied every corner, their button eyes staring blankly.

Despite having access to the original Axel's memories, nothing had prepared him for this overwhelming display.

He moved cautiously through the room, his weakened body protesting every step. The hallway led him to the master bedroom, where he hesitated before opening the door.

Inside, the theme continued—perhaps even intensified. The bed was adorned with sheets featuring Sofia the First, the walls decorated with purple floral wallpaper, and the curtains matched the bedspread perfectly.

"No wonder they call you Princess," he whispered, a mix of amusement and disbelief in his voice.

He approached the wardrobe, opening it to reveal an array of pastel clothing. His hand reached in, pulling out a crop top that shimmered under the room's lighting.

"There's no way I'm wearing this. Never," he declared, rolling his eyes.

The thought of someone from his past life—especially from the organization—seeing him in such attire nearly made him laugh. The great assassin Z, reduced to pastel frills and glitter? They'd die laughing.

He sat heavily on the bed, pulling out the original Axel's phone. Navigating through the apps, he searched for moving services, settling on one that boasted same-day delivery and setup. Within minutes, he had placed an order to remove everything in the apartment and replace it with items more to his taste.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. Movers came and went, hauling out purple furniture and carting in sleek, dark-toned replacements. Axel directed them with the efficiency of someone used to orchestrating operations far more complicated than a redecorating job.

By evening, the apartment had undergone a complete transformation. The lavender wonderland was now a modern, minimalistic space with muted colors, leather accents, and cool lighting. Axel nodded in approval, though his body sagged with fatigue.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his temples. The exertion of coordinating the move, even if he hadn't lifted a finger physically, had drained him. The fragility of his current body irked him to no end. Back in his original life, any sign of weakness could mean death. Now, every movement reminded him of just how far he'd fallen.

After a much-needed bath, he raided the newly organized wardrobe for something less offensive. He settled on a simple plain shirt and a pair of trousers—nothing fancy, just something that didn't sparkle or hug his waist like a clingy octopus.

Curious, he wandered into the gym room. Once an empty space, it now housed a full range of exercise equipment. Treadmills, weights, even a punching bag. But he knew better than to push himself. His muscles still trembled from simple exertion. Trying to train now would be like asking a toddler to bench press.

With a sigh, he left the gym and returned to the living area, where he retrieved Axel's laptop. He opened it and raised an eyebrow. "Not bad," he murmured, powering it on. As soon as the interface loaded, his fingers danced across the keyboard with unnatural speed—a ghost of the skills he once had. But even that ghost faded quickly.

"Tch. Still too slow," he hissed. His wrists ached, fingers trembling slightly. He wasn't back to full strength. Far from it.

Still, he had accomplished enough. He had managed to access the dark web and place orders with underworld sellers. His list included illegal computer components, tools no ordinary citizen could procure. That had always been one of his greatest advantages: he wasn't just a killer, he was a hunter. A master hacker. There was no target he couldn't find.

In the underworld, they had a saying: If Z is hunting you, don't bother hiding. Just dig your grave.

He smirked at the memory.

The movers had cleared out one of the three bedrooms entirely. That room would become his control center, where he would assemble his custom rig once the parts arrived. It would be the heart of his new network.

He leaned back in the chair, calculating mentally everything that needed to be done from this point onward. A sigh escaped him.

"Well, it's just the first day," he muttered. "I can do everything else once I'm fully recovered."

His will was strong, but even that had limits. His body screamed for rest, and for once, he considered obeying it. Just as he made his way to the bedroom, the doorbell rang.

He stopped mid-step, groaning.

Who the hell...

He checked the door camera.

Jayvaughn.

Axel fidgeted immediately, grabbing handfuls of his hair in panic.

"What is he doing here?" he hissed.

The idea hit him like lightning.

Maybe I should just ignore it. Pretend I'm already asleep.

But just as he tiptoed back, Jayvaughn's voice echoed clearly from outside the door.

"Don't even think about pretending to be asleep. I know you're awake."

Axel flinched.

"That annoying demon," he growled.

Axel opened the door just as Jayvaughn raised his hand to press the doorbell once again. Their eyes met briefly, and without a word, Axel turned around and walked deeper into the apartment. Jayvaughn stepped inside, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and wonder.

The last time he'd been here was more than a year ago, when Axel had caught the flu and stubbornly refused to go to the clinic. As the leader of the band, it was Jayvaughn's job to check in on every member. Back then, the apartment had been drenched in hues of purple—lavender curtains, violet cushions, even a lilac rug.

Now, it was entirely different. Muted grays and sleek blacks dominated the interior. Clean lines replaced Axel's usual mess of plushies and posters. It felt like someone else lived here.

"Does being in a coma change not only your personality but also your taste in decor?" Jayvaughn asked, turning toward Axel with a teasing smile.

Axel gritted his teeth and cursed him silently. Go to hell, he thought. But his body, or rather, the remnant of the original Axel still attached to this body, decided to react violently. A searing pain pierced through his soul, making him stumble slightly.

"Fuck," Axel hissed under his breath, clutching his chest.

Jayvaughn's smirk vanished instantly. He rushed forward, concern flooding his face. "Are you okay? Let me help you sit down."

Surprised by the sudden relief washing over him the moment Jayvaughn touched him, Axel froze. The soul remnants, which had been tormenting him just a second ago, began to recede as if pacified by the contact. Unbelievable, Axel thought bitterly. A single touch from this guy and the original Axel's soul remnants go all hearts and flowers.

Still, Axel kept his face blank and allowed Jayvaughn to guide him to the couch. Jayvaughn helped him gently, studying Axel's face. There was no blushing, no shy glances, no fidgety fingers. This wasn't the Axel he remembered.

The Axel—well, the one Jayvaughn knew—would have turned red and stammered from just a touch. Now, this version stared at him with unreadable eyes.

Jayvaughn sat beside him and leaned forward. "So, did your near-death experience change more than just your taste in decor? Did it make you stop liking me too?"

Axel blinked. Who the hell asks something like that with such a straight face? But thank God he wasn't the original Axel, because that guy would've combusted on the spot.

Without missing a beat, Axel replied calmly, "You know, I almost died. And I nearly died because I liked you. Knowing there'll never be a return of that feeling, wouldn't it make sense to stop liking you entirely?"

That was the wrong thing to say.

A violent wave of soul-tearing pain surged through him again. Axel's vision blurred, and he bit down on a groan. "You bastard," he cursed internally, "You're not even alive, you're just a remnant! How dare you attack me for giving up on unrequited feelings?"

As if in retaliation, the remnants intensified their assault. Axel broke out in cold sweat, his body shaking.

Jayvaughn jumped to his feet. "You're definitely not okay. I'm getting my keys. You're going back to the hospital."

Axel, barely conscious, reached out and grabbed Jayvaughn's wrist. The moment their skin touched again, the pain ebbed. Not completely, but enough for Axel to breathe.

His mind raced." No way I'm going to keep suffering when there's a solution right in front of me". In one swift motion, he yanked Jayvaughn back and pushed him down onto the couch and sat on his laps.

"Axel! What the hell are you doing? Get off me!" Jayvaughn barked, startled.

Axel ignored the outrage and looped his arms around Jayvaughn's neck. "I don't want to go to the hospital. I'll be fine soon, so just... let's stay like this a bit."

Jayvaughn blinked, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability. He was about to protest but paused when he noticed Axel's trembling beginning to calm. Axel's shivering frame started relaxing against him.

Sighing, Jayvaughn wrapped his arms around him loosely, resting one hand on Axel's back, stroking it comfortingly. When his hand slid lower and landed on Axel's waist, he gave it a gentle squeeze.

Soft.

Really soft.

Before he realized it, he was kneading the waist absentmindedly.

Axel jerked back like he'd been electrocuted, leaping to the other side of the couch and wrapping his arms protectively around his waist.

"What do you think you were doing?!" he demanded, wide-eyed.

Jayvaughn stared, momentarily stunned. Then he tilted his chin up arrogantly. "I was wondering why your waist is that thin and soft for a guy."

Axel opened his mouth to retort but snapped it shut. He didn't have an answer. Frankly, he'd been wondering the same thing. "I really need to bulk up once I'm fully healed", he thought grimly.

He exhaled heavily and sat across from Jayvaughn. "Why did you come here, anyway?"

Jayvaughn leaned back, finally relaxing. "Noah had a surge of inspiration last week and composed a new track. I think it's pretty good. We're all going to vote on whether we want to produce it. I came to ask if you could join us tomorrow in the instruments room."

Axel raised a brow. "Noah didn't say anything this morning when he and James picked me up."

Jayvaughn shrugged. "Maybe he wanted to surprise you. Anyway, considering your condition, you don't have to come. We'll wait until you're better."

Axel looked at him with quiet determination. "I'm fine. I'll be there."

Jayvaughn studied him, trying to gauge whether to push back. But Axel's expression didn't waver.

Finally, he nodded. "Alright. Meeting's at ten. Get some sleep."

Axel gave a silent nod.

Jayvaughn stood up, hesitating for a second before speaking. "Goodnight, Axel."

"Night," Axel replied simply.

Jayvaughn left the apartment, and as soon as the door clicked shut, Axel slumped back on the couch, exhausted.

"Damn this body. Damn that remnant. And damn Jayvaughn." That was his last thought as he made his way towards his bedroom to get himself a much needed sleep.