"Captain!" Klein screamed, raising his revolver.
Dunn's head turned slightly at the sound of Klein's voice. Something flickered across those gray eyes—relief at seeing Klein alive, fear for Klein's safety, and desperate hope all tangled together.
"Klein!" Dunn's voice was hoarse, raw from screaming. "Stay back! Don't come closer! This thing—it's too powerful! You need to run! Get out of Tingen and—"
The Child of the True Creator roared, a sound that Klein felt in his bones more than heard. The creature's attention had shifted from Dunn to Klein, sensing fresh prey.
"NO!" Dunn shouted, trying to pull the creature's focus back to himself. "Look at me, you bastard! I'm your opponent!"
The being lashed out with an appendage that was part tentacle, part claw, part something that defied categorization. The attack was impossibly fast, covering the distance to Dunn in a fraction of a second.
The appendage struck Dunn in the chest, lifting him off his feet and hurling him backward.
The captain's body crashed into a large marble tombstone with a sickening crack. The tombstone shattered from the impact, and Dunn crumpled among the fragments.
"CAPTAIN!" Klein was running before he consciously decided to move, his revolver already firing. Demon-hunting bullets struck the Child of the True Creator's mass, and the creature recoiled slightly, shrieking in annoyance.
The wounds Klein had inflicted regenerated almost instantly, corrupt flesh flowing like liquid to seal itself.
But at least he'd gotten the thing's attention off Dunn for a moment.
Klein reached the captain, dropping to his knees beside him. Up close, the injuries were even worse than Klein had thought.
Blood poured from Dunn's mouth , severe internal injuries. His breathing was labored, each breath a wet, rattling sound that made Klein's stomach clench with fear.
"Klein," Dunn gasped, blood bubbling at his lips. "You... you need to run. Can't win this. Just run. Save yourself."
"I'm not leaving you," Klein said, his hands already moving to check Dunn's injuries.
But even his limited medical knowledge told him the truth, these wounds were fatal. Dunn was dying, and there was nothing Klein could do to stop it.
"Stubborn... just like me," Dunn managed a weak smile despite the pain. "Should've known... you wouldn't listen."
The Child of the True Creator roared again, advancing toward them. Its multiple eyes fixed on Klein with hungry intelligence. It knew he was a Beyonder, could sense the spiritual energy within him.
Fresh food. Fresh power to consume.
Klein's seer abilities flared, showing him futures branching out from this moment.
In most of them, they both died here. The Child of the True Creator broke free completely, rampaged through Tingen City, killed tens of thousands before the Church could respond with enough force to stop it.
Melissa and Benson would die in those futures. His siblings, who should have been on a train far away by now, would be caught in the devastation.
But there were other futures. Unlikely ones. Futures where Klein did something desperate and impossible.
He had the Antigonus family notebook. The cursed artifact that had been a constant weight in his coat pocket since he'd become a Beyonder.
Filled with knowledge of the Fool pathway that mortals weren't meant to know. Secrets that could drive people insane just from reading them.
If Klein used that knowledge directly... if he channeled the notebook's power through himself and his Seer abilities... he might be able to create a seal strong enough to contain the Child of the True Creator.
It would kill him. The corruption would consume him completely, burn away his sanity and his life. But it might work.
Klein pulled out the Antigonus notebook with steady hands. Strange how calm he felt now, faced with the certainty of death. Maybe it was his seer abilities helping him accept the future he was choosing.
Or maybe he'd just finally found something worth dying for.
A thought flashed in his head. What if he called for help ? Maybe Kokabiel could help.
But he shook his head. He didn't wish to bother him. He saw Kokabiel's message. He was with his family, catching up with leaving for 50 years. He needed that peace.
Klein sighed and looked above at tue night sky and thought quietly , 'The stars look so beautiful tonight.'
He took a step forward.
Dunn's eyes widened when he saw the cursed artifact. "No. Klein, no. That thing... will kill you. Don't... don't do this."
"I have to," Klein said simply, meeting the captain's gaze. "There's no other way. You know that as well as I do."
"There has to be..." Dunn tried to sit up, tried to stop Klein, but his broken body wouldn't respond.
"Please. Klein. You're like... like a son to me. I can't... can't watch you die."
Klein felt his throat tighten. "Captain. Dunn. Thank you. For everything. For taking me in when I had nothing. For teaching me what it means to be a Nighthawk. For being the father I never had."
Tears streamed down Dunn's face, mixing with the blood. "Klein—"
Klein opened the notebook.
The effect was immediate and overwhelming.
Power exploded through Klein's body—vast, ancient power that his Sequence 7 Beyonder characteristic was never meant to contain.
The notebook's corruption resonated with his spirituality, amplifying both in a deadly feedback loop that threatened to tear him apart from the inside.
Klein felt his sanity cracking like glass under pressure. Madness poured into his mind. whispers in languages that predated humanity, visions of things that should never be seen, knowledge that burned his consciousness just by existing in it.
But within that ocean of insanity, Klein found what he needed. The ritual. The sealing method that could bind the offspring of an evil god.
It required sacrifice. Complete sacrifice. A life freely given, consumed utterly to forge chains strong enough to hold divinity.
Klein's life.
Words flowed from his mouth unbidden—ancient Hermes, but older even than that. Languages from before writing existed.
Syllables that hurt his throat to speak, each one burning away a piece of his existence just to vocalize.
His spirituality blazed outward like a bonfire, fed by the notebook's corrupt power. Mystical chains erupted from Klein's body, forged from the fundamental essence of what made him Klein Moretti.
Each link was carved from his memories. His personality. His hopes and dreams. His love for his siblings. His friendship with the Nighthawks.
Everything that made him who he was, systematically consumed and transformed into bindings strong enough to hold a god's child.
He whispered, " Now I understand what you went through..."
The chains lashed out, wrapping around the Child of the True Creator.
The creature roared, fury and disbelief mixing in that horrible scream. It had expected easy prey, weak mortals to consume. Instead, it found itself being bound by powers it couldn't understand.
The entity thrashed, lashing out with all its corrupt strength. Attacks that could shatter mountains struck the chains, but they held barely. Straining under the pressure. But holding.
"KLEIN, STOP!" Dunn was screaming now, trying desperately to crawl toward him despite his broken body. "You'll die! There won't be anything left! Please, there has to be another way!"
"There isn't," Klein said. His voice sounded distant, dreamlike.
The corruption was spreading faster now, consuming his mind piece by piece. He could feel himself disappearing, the person called Klein Moretti being systematically erased to fuel the seal.
He poured everything into the chains. His spirituality.
His Beyonder powers. His memories of Earth and Zhou Mingrui, the person he'd been in another life. His memories of becoming Klein Moretti.
Every moment with Melissa and Benson. Every case with the Nighthawks. Every laugh, every tear, every small moment of joy and sorrow that made up a life.
All of it fed into chains that wrapped tighter and tighter around the Child of the True Creator.
Klein thought about the chat group. About Kazuma's ridiculous schemes that somehow worked. About Jin Woo's quiet strength and dependability. About Yoruichi's effortless cool and Robin's thoughtful wisdom. About Kokabiel's strange kindness beneath that wall of emotional distance.
He hoped they wouldn't blame themselves for his death. Hoped they'd understand he'd chosen this freely, with full knowledge of the cost.
The entity was sealed now, bound by chains it couldn't break. The tear in reality that had allowed it to manifest sealed itself, corruption contained once more.
And Klein Moretti burned away like paper in a flame.
His body began dissolving into ash, the corruption from the notebook consuming what remained. His consciousness fragmented, pieces of himself disappearing into nothing.
His last thought was regret. Not for dying, he'd made his choice and accepted it fully.
But regret for everything he'd never get to do. Adventures he'd never have. People he'd never meet.
Watching Melissa become an engineer. Growing old with Benson.
Regret that he'd finally found belonging with the Nighthawks and the chat group, only to lose it all so quickly.
The chains solidified, sinking deep into reality. The Child of the True Creator was sealed, trapped by bindings it couldn't break.
And Klein Moretti began to burn away.
"Tell Melissa and Benson," Klein gasped as his body started dissolving into ash. "Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them I love—"
A gunshot rang out.
Klein's head snapped back, a bullet hole appearing between his eyes. His body collapsed, the corruption from the notebook consuming what remained.
Dunn screamed—a raw, broken sound of pure anguish.
From the shadows stepped Ince Zangwill, a smoking revolver in his hand. The former archbishop smiled coldly, his eyes showing no remorse.
"Goodbye, Klein Moretti," Ince said calmly. "Your sacrifice was necessary for the story."
In his other hand, he held a quill—0-08, the sealed artifact that could write fate itself. The quill had orchestrated everything. Old Neil's death. The Child of the True Creator's manifestation. Klein's return at exactly the right moment.
All of it had been written by 0-08, and Klein had died exactly as the story demanded.
Dunn tried to stand, tried to attack Ince, but his injuries were too severe. He collapsed, watching helplessly as Klein's body finished dissolving into ash.
Ince Zangwill smiled down at Dunn, and something in that smile made the captain's blood run cold. This was the smile of someone who'd orchestrated everything.
In Ince's hand was a quill. Not an ordinary quill, but a sealed artifact—Dunn recognized it from Church records. 0-08. The cursed artifact that could write fate itself, that twisted reality to create stories it found entertaining.
"You..." Dunn gasped, blood pouring from his mouth. "You monster. You killed him. You killed them all!"
"I killed a pawn," Ince said dismissively. "Nothing more. Though I admit, the boy played his part well."
Dunn gasped, understanding flooding through him. "You did this. Old Neil. Klein. You orchestrated all of it."
"Guilty as charged," Ince said pleasantly, as if discussing the weather. "Though I had help."
He gestured to the quill in his hand. "0-08 does love a good tragedy. And this one, a young hero sacrificing himself to save the city, witnessed by his dying captain, his father figure, this is exactly the kind of story it craves."
"You monster," Dunn tried to stand, tried to attack, but his body wouldn't respond. "Klein was innocent. He was just a kid trying to help people. And you killed him for a story?"
"He killed himself," Ince corrected mildly. "I simply arranged circumstances so that would happen. There's a difference."
"There's no difference!" Dunn's voice cracked with rage and grief. "You murdered him! You murdered Old Neil! You've destroyed the Nighthawks!"
"I've created art," Ince said. "The quill demands stories, and I provide them. Your team was simply convenient material."
He raised his other hand, and Dunn saw he held a revolver.
"Now, I'm afraid your part in this tragedy needs to reach its conclusion," Ince said.
"Can't have witnesses who know what really happened. The official story will be that a sealed artifact broke free, and brave Captain Dunn Smith and his promising young assistant Klein Moretti died heroically containing it.
Very tragic. Very moving. The Church will give you both posthumous honors."
Dunn laughed—a broken, bitter sound. "You think killing me changes anything? The Goddess will know. The Church will know. You can't hide this forever."
"I don't need forever," Ince said. "I just need long enough to complete my plans."
Dunn's vision was fading, darkness creeping in at the edges. The injuries from the Child of the True Creator were fatal. He had minutes at most.
He crawled toward where Klein had fallen, his hand reaching for the ash that was all that remained of the young man who'd been like a son to him. Ince allowed this act of kindness.
"I'm sorry," Dunn whispered. "Klein, I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I couldn't—"
His hand closed around the Antigonus notebook, now dark and inert. Klein's final legacy.
Ince aimed the revolver at Dunn's head.
"Goodbye, Captain Smith. Thank you for your contribution to the story."
The gunshot echoed across Raphael Cemetery.
Dunn Smith, Captain of the Tingen Nighthawks, died clutching that notebook. His last thought was regret that he'd failed to save Klein Moretti.
Ince Zangwill stood over two bodies and a sealed evil god's offspring, 0-08 writing frantically in his hand. The quill was pleased with how the story had turned out.
Such beautiful tragedy. Such perfect sacrifice.
Ince walked away, leaving death and ash behind him. He had more stories to write. More tragedies to orchestrate. 0-08 was never satisfied for long.
Above Tingen, dawn was breaking. The city began to wake, completely unaware that Klein Moretti and Dunn Smith had died in the night, sacrificing everything to save people who would never know their names.
*****
On a train heading to Backlund, Melissa and Benson Moretti dozed fitfully, exhausted from fear and confusion. They didn't know yet. Wouldn't know for days.
But Klein had saved them. His last act had been ensuring his siblings survived, even if it cost him everything.
The Antigonus notebook lay in the ash where Klein had fallen, dark and silent. Waiting for someone to eventually find it and continue the cycle.
*****
Heaven - Present
I opened my eyes, the vision fading. My hands were clenched so hard It was like black holes force compressed, but my newly regained emotional state was manifesting physically.
Klein was dead.
Murdered in treachery. First by sealing the corruption, then by Ince Zangwill's bullet while he was already dying. And Dunn Smith, who'd tried desperately to save him, had been executed to hide the truth.
All of it orchestrated by a cursed quill that wrote tragedies for entertainment.
"Ince Zangwill," I said quietly, my voice deadly calm. "And artefact 0-08."
My twelve wings materialized, black as the darkness of night, with starlight swirling within each feather.
The temperature in my office dropped as my power leaked out, frost forming on the walls.
Klein hadn't just died fighting. He'd been a pawn in 0-08's story. Sacrificed for the quill's amusement while the real villain walked away clean.
Gabriel rushed in immediately. She flinched when she saw my state. She spoke hesitantly. " What happened brother? Why are you so angry? Please calm yourself and tell me!"
I sighed and let the power fade away. I walked towards her and embraced her gently. " I am sorry sister, I have to visit another world now. I have a friend... Who was killed. I need to sort some things. I truly am sorry Gabriel."
Gabriel wanted to ask for more but controlled herself. "How long?" She asked shakily after a breath.
I shook my head. " Maybe one year at most. Earlier if possible. I don't want to leave you guys like before."
Gabriel sniffled and clutched my clothes. " And you promise to return? To Heaven, to us?"
I smiled softly. " You are my family, of course I'll always come back, no matter what."
She smiled at that. " You promise?" She raised her pinky finger.
I chuckled as she still remembered this small gesture I once taught her. I don't know how I knew it, just felt it.
I hooked my pinky finger around her and whispered, " I promise."
She nodded weakly. " I'll tell the others. Don't worry about us. Go and help your friend."
Looking at her one last time, I teleported beyond the DxD world. The void between worlds.
I pulled up the chat interface. The others were still panicking, waiting for answers.
I had to tell them about this.
But first, I was committing a name to memory.
Ince Zangwill. Former archbishop turned traitor. Current wielder of 0-08.
My omniscience showed me where Ince was now, still in Klein's world, believing himself safe with 0-08's reality-warping protection.
He wouldn't be safe for long. I could erase him with a single thought, but I also saw how his death will be necessary for Klein to advance to Sequence 4.
I began typing in the chat group, my movements mechanical as I struggled to contain my rage.
[Heaven's Wrath : I've confirmed what happened to Klein. He's dead, for now. I'm going there myself.]
I saw some messages popping up but I closed the chat as my body burst into nothingness. And there stood my true form.
Since I'm going there, I'll need something not mortal but yet not fully my outer god self.
My enormous body started condense into a human like shape, but without any visible human features except my eyes that showed the worlds swirling within.
I hope that world will is strong enough to handle this. It is stronger than DxD world but better be safe than sorry.
I placed countless seals and illusions to hide my true self. Otherwise the world along with nearby others will perish.
Although some gods of that world might still perceive a hint of my true self. This would stop them from interfering.
Then, like Icarus flew towards the sun, I flew towards the Lord of The Mysteries World.