Chapter Text
Amidst the raging flames, Klein strode forward with a revolver in hand. His grip tightened around Death Knell as Ince circled him, seemingly attempting to drag him into a dream. Unmoved, he remained perfectly calm as he raised the weapon forward and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The thunderous shot slammed into Ince, hurling him to the ground with tremendous force. The cracks spreading across his head widened even further.
"That shot was for Ma'am Daly."
...
"This shot is for Leonard."
...
"This shot is for Megose."
"This shot is for the Keepers."
"This shot is for the destroyed Blackthorn Security Company."
"This shot is for all the Nighthawks."
"This shot is for me."
...
"This shot is for the Captain."
The cocoons swayed gently, each encasing a different person. They appeared to come from every walk of life and every corner of the world. Some wore jeans, while others clutched cell phones. Some were dressed in elegant clothing, while others possessed strikingly beautiful features.
Though every one of them looked as if they were alive, their eyes remained tightly shut. Klein's gaze froze. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though he had returned to Earth, standing once more on bustling streets crowded with people.
Then he noticed that three of the cocoons had already split open. They hung empty, swaying gently in the wind. Klein stood motionless, silently taking in the surreal sight before him.
Klein awoke to the familiar sensation of pain. A groan escaped his lips. It felt almost like the beginning of his transmigration all over again, the same dizzy, dreamlike disorientation, as though he had been abruptly forced back into a corporeal body after existing as nothing but a spirit for an immeasurable stretch of time. He struggled against his unwilling limbs before finally prying his trembling eyelids open.
A wash of crimson light greeted him. The crimson moon, most likely. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, wincing as something hard and brittle cracked against his skin with the movement. Flakes of dried matter crumbled away, and Klein briefly wondered what they were before his attention was swiftly drawn elsewhere.
He blinked, staring in dumbfounded silence at the all-too-familiar scene before him. 'Mr. Franky's apartment?' he thought, instantly confused. 'Why does this place look like...' That couldn't be right. Klein's gaze swept frantically across the room. Everything was the same. Every piece of furniture, every corner, every familiar detail.
Why was it exactly as he remembered? More importantly, how was he here? Then, as though answering his questions, Klein's mind began to supply him with fragments of understanding. Each revelation was more bewildering than the last. Benson Moretti. The name hit him like a bucket of ice water.
He choked on his own saliva, dread seizing him as his mouth fell open in silent disbelief. The full weight of his situation settled over him, crushing and inescapable. "No," he managed, the word leaving him with visible effort. "No, no, no," he continued in denial.
Klein's heart pounded violently against his ribs, each frantic beat feeding the fear tightening around his chest. It was terrifying. He didn't think he had ever experienced anything so utterly terrifying.
He lurched to his feet, the world suddenly so tight and suffocating that he thought he might vomit onto the floor. A scream clawed its way up his throat, soundless, tasting like iron and despair.
'It can't be,' he thought. 'It can't be true.' Klein stumbled toward the mirror and collapsed against it, his eyes wide with terror. "No," he choked. "No way." His fingers dug into the frame until his knuckles blanched.
For a long moment, he remained hunched there, staring at the floor, dreading what he already knew he would see. Then, slowly, he forced himself to look up. Benson's terrified face stared back at him from the cracked reflection.
Klein gagged, horror twisting his stomach, but nothing came out. "Oh, God," he choked, his voice breaking.
"There's no way."
He denied.
"There's no way."
Klein spent what remained of the night in stunned silence, too frightened to move.
Dawn eventually came, but it brought him no comfort.
Once again, Zhou Mingrui had awakened in a body that was never meant to be his.
Death would have been kinder than this.