Cassie's eyes snapped open.
She gasped, body jerking as she clutched her chest where the blade had skewered her. The fabric of her dress was damp and clinging. Raising trembling fingers, she pressed them to her collarbone, then brought them to her nose.
Blood.
It was real. All of it.
Her breathing hitched as the realization settled like ice in her lungs. She clenched her jaw, fury and sorrow dancing violently across her delicate features. Her ocean-blue eyes—sightless, yet hauntingly expressive—burned with raw emotion.
After everything...
How could he?
She hugged her knees to her chest, the gesture instinctual and childlike, as if trying to hold herself together. Her shoulders trembled, and tears welled up, not from the pain of being impaled—but from the deeper, more savage wound Klaus had inflicted.
He was the only one she could be honest with. The only one who had listened—who understood her dreams, her grief, her broken past. The only one who held her without asking her to change.
And yet…
That cold indifference in his eyes when he said "Do it."
Like she was disposable. Just another pawn.
She wanted to believe it was a nightmare. A cruel illusion. But the sting in her chest and the taste of iron on her tongue told her otherwise.
And worst of all… she still loved him. Gods help her, she loved that bastard.
She wiped her tears roughly. This wasn't the time to fall apart. This was war. The future had already veered off course. Klaus had that effect—wherever he went, logic shattered and chaos bloomed in his wake.
Cassie straightened her back, smoothing the tattered remains of her bloodied dress with trembling hands. Her skin, miraculously, was healed—thanks to Hemera's flames—but her spirit felt as fragile as glass.
The flying island was in ruins. The once-beautiful ship now hung upside down, like a broken toy in a child's tantrum.
Her Awakened perception flared to life, scanning the wreckage. And there he was—Klaus, sitting calmly, meditating amid the carnage like he hadn't just let her die.
Her eyes narrowed.
Dragging her body forward with purpose, she rose shakily to her feet. Her dark hair, tangled and dirt-streaked, clung to her cheeks. Blood soaked her clothes. She looked like a ghost. But in every step she took, there was quiet grace—unshaken dignity.
Then, towering over Klaus's cross-legged form, she took a long breath—
—and kicked him square in the face.
The crack echoed across the ruined deck. Klaus tumbled backward with a grunt, nose gushing blood as he blinked up at the sky.
He didn't even react. Not really. The Faceless was already reshaping his features, bone snapping back into place.
He'd felt her coming. He let her hit him.
Maybe it would help.
Cassie stood silently, fists clenched, her breath shaking with suppressed rage.
Klaus raised his head lazily, about to speak—
—Thwack.
Another kick.
And then she was on him, straddling his chest and punching him again and again with wild, unrestrained fury.
He didn't fight back. Didn't even defend himself.
After a few minutes, Klaus lay sprawled beneath her. Nose broken. Jaw slack. Teeth scattered like dice. He stared up at the grey sky, utterly unfazed, as the Faceless worked like a sculptor restoring a cracked statue.
Cassie raised her fist once more—but this time, he caught it.
His eyes met hers—calm, unreadable. He sat up slowly, and Cassie slid off his chest, landing in his lap. He wiped blood from his lips, grumbling under his breath.
"Okay. Great. You got your punches in. Satisfied? Can we move on from the melodrama now?"
Cassie tilted her head, her smile dark and bitter. Her voice laced with venom.
"Satisfied? Oh, I don't know, Nik. I mean, someone let the enemy murder me. So maybe I'm just a little off balance."
Klaus rolled his eyes, clearly done with the conversation before it even began.
"Right. Yeah. I'm the asshole. I let you die. Boo-hoo. You want a medal? A fruit basket? I don't know what to tell you, Cassie. Blame me all you want. At this point, I'm just… profoundly over it."
Cassie was silent for a beat. Then her voice came, soft and broken, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingernails biting into his neck.
"…Why? Why did you do it?"
Klaus sighed like she'd asked him why the sky was blue.
"Okay, look. One—I wasn't about to sacrifice my spirits. Took me years to gather them. Literal blood, sweat, and screaming souls. Not doing that again. Two—I honestly thought he was bluffing. And three—I had a way to keep you alive, all right? Whether you buy that or not is your business. I don't have the energy to explain the whole damn plan."
Cassie's jaw tightened, fury radiating from her like heat.
"Oh, wow. That's just amazing. What a beautiful romantic gesture—'I knew you'd survive getting stabbed through the heart.' Gods, Klaus. You're unbelievable."
Klaus looked at her, his expression flat and tired. Like someone being yelled at for dropping the toast butter-side down.
"And you're yelling about morality? Seriously? After all this? Lady, the whole damn board is on fire. There's no right or wrong anymore. Just moves and counter-moves. And frankly—"
He raised both hands in a shrug, eyes deadpan.
"I don't care."
Cassie stared at him, mouth slightly parted in disbelief, chest heaving with fury. Her voice came out low and trembling, not from fear—but from the sheer weight of betrayal lodged in her throat like glass shards.
"You don't care?" she echoed, eyes burning. "You don't care? I almost died, Klaus. No—I did. I fucking died!"
Klaus tilted his head back with an exasperated groan and let his body flop onto the ground like a man who'd just lost his last bit of will to pretend this conversation wasn't draining the life out of him.
"Oh my gods, Cassie, again with the melodrama," he mumbled, waving his hand in a lazy circle like he was swatting away a fly. "You're alive, aren't you? Walking, talking, kicking my face in like some golden-haired vendetta fairy. You think that just happens if I didn't plan for it?"
Cassie stepped forward sharply, jabbing a finger at his chest. "You didn't plan shit. You gambled with my life like it was some spare pawn in one of your damn schemes!"
Klaus gave her a look that somehow combined contempt, amusement, and exhaustion.
"No, see, that's where you're wrong. Everything is a pawn, Cassie. You, me, Mordret, the flaming wreck of this overpriced sky-yacht—all pawns. The only difference is, I don't whine about it over candlelight and cry into my pillow."
"Because you don't feel anything!" she spat. "You look at people like they're equations. Numbers. Disposable tools. You used me, Klaus! And now you're sitting there with your 'woe is me, I don't care, I'm above it all' face like you're some sort of tragic anti-hero when really, you're just some super fucked up devil!"
He laughed—bitter, sharp, with no humor. "Oh, that's rich. The moral compass has entered the ring. Tell me, Cass—how many people have you watched die while whispering some crap about destiny and sacrifice? Don't pretend you're any cleaner than me."
"At least I care when it happens!" she shouted, pointing at him. "At least I feel something, Klaus! You bury everything under that smug, detached mask like you're too evolved to give a damn."
Silence stretched between them. The wind howled through the broken ribs of the ruined ship. Somewhere, the metal groaned.
Cassie didn't turn back. Her fists were clenched, her jaw tight, trying—desperately—to hold herself together.
But Klaus? Klaus just stood there, staring at the ruins of the ship like it owed him money.
"You know the problem with you, Cassie?" he said finally, voice casual, like they were discussing the weather. "You think the universe gives a shit about your feelings. It doesn't. It never did. That's lesson number one in surviving this hellhole—you either get over yourself or you get buried under your own tears."
Her back stiffened. "And you think being a hollow husk makes you better?"
He snorted. "No. I think it makes me useful. Look at me—still standing. Still breathing. Still solving problems while everyone else cries about ethics and friendship like it's gonna stop reality from steamrolling them."
Cassie turned then, her face pale with disbelief. "You let me die. And now you're preaching about efficiency?"
"Yes, and look—you're not dead. Congratulations. We both get what we want." He waved a hand like a magician after a cheap trick. "You got your second chance, I got my tactical advantage. We good?"
"We are not good!" she screamed. "How can you stand there and act like it doesn't matter? Like I didn't—like we didn't—!"
She took a step forward, trembling. "Why do you do this? Why do you push everyone away? You act like nothing matters and then expect us to still be there, orbiting your self-destruction like it's gravity!"
Cassie opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to scream. To weep. To believe him. To hate him. All at once.
Instead, she just whispered, "You're a monster."
Klaus shook his head slowly, with a grim smile.
"No, I'm a demon— and a handsome one at that. Monster? Tsk... Just make me a beast at this point. So either punch me again or sit the fuck down. We've got a dragon to kill."
***
And yes, second chapter is out. I wasn't planning to but im feeling bored so i still did it. I don't have much to say about this chapter, i like writing fights as you all know. Not this... I don't know, drama? Yeah, it is drama. Probably.
Anyway guys, time is coming to slay dragon! Hell yeah!
Thanks for all your support and happy you're enjoying story!
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