A wagon door slammed open.
A woman climbed down with visible effort, boots hitting the ground heavily. She wore ornate gold armor chased with crimson inlays, a red cape hanging stiffly from her shoulders. Sweat plastered her hair to her temples as she threw off her helm in frustration, revealing a striking face twisted with rage.
She trembled—whether from paralysis or fury, it was hard to tell.
With a grunt, she drew a double-bladed sword, the hilt shaped like a blooming rose. She raised it with shaking arms and pointed it at Klaus.
"I am Lorelei Wullock," she declared, breath ragged but voice fierce. "And I swear upon my blood—will protect this treasure with my life. You will walk past my corpse before you take it."
Klaus turned toward her slowly, as though admiring a painting.
He removed his foot from the officer and strolled closer.
"How touching," he said lightly. "If you're offering your body so willingly, perhaps I should enjoy it before you die. It's been a while since I tasted a woman."
The color drained from Lorelei's face.
Panic flashed across her features before she crushed it down, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She forced her feet forward, each step heavy and unsteady.
"I'll kill you," she hissed.
She swung.
Her blade passed cleanly through Klaus's chest.
—or rather, through the afterimage he left behind.
"W–what—"
Klaus was suddenly behind her. One arm slipped around her waist with unsettling gentleness, pulling her back against him.
Lorelei gasped, panic surging full force.
"What are you—!"
Her words cut off as Klaus pressed a cloth to her face.
The scent hit her instantly—sweet, heavy, irresistible.
Her free hand clawed weakly at his arm. Her vision blurred. Tears welled up as hatred gave way to despair… and then to resignation.
So this is how it ends, she thought bitterly.
Darkness claimed her.
Klaus lifted her easily and carried her back toward the wagon. Soldiers watched helplessly, eyes burning with fury and shame. One man forced words through clenched teeth, swearing vengeance unto the end of the world.
Klaus ignored him.
He laid Lorelei gently on a bench inside the wagon, adjusting her cape so it covered her properly. Then he stepped back out.
He glanced at Shane.
"Ten minutes. No more."
Shane nodded, already finishing up. One final wagon—clearly the treasure carriage—yielded its contents quickly. Gold and gems vanished into his ring. Then his hand paused over a smaller chest.
Inside lay a cube-like puzzle, etched with unfamiliar symbols.
Shane frowned.
He pocketed the cube instead of storing it away.
Six minutes later, they were done.
Shane slipped into the forest without a sound.
Klaus lingered a moment longer. He turned back to the paralyzed soldiers and gave them a casual wave.
"Remember our name. We might meet again."
Then he vanished like smoke.
Minutes passed.
Slowly, painfully, feeling returned to numb limbs. Soldiers groaned and pushed themselves upright. Confusion and anger rippled through the convoy.
Inside the wagon, Lorelei stirred.
She bolted upright, breath hitching, hands flying over her body. Armor intact. Clothes untouched.
Nothing happened.
Relief flooded her—followed immediately by a sharp sting to her pride.
She clenched her jaw.
"…Am I not that attractive?"
***
Out of the woods—dozens of mountains away from the ruined convoy—the two figures finally slowed.
The forest here was thinner, the trees shorter and wind-bent, their leaves whispering sharply as if gossiping about what had just passed through. Klaus and Shane stumbled into a narrow clearing between jagged rocks, boots skidding on loose gravel. Both of them bent forward, hands on their knees, breath coming out in harsh, uneven pulls.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Shane straightened first, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. His usually composed posture wavered just a little as he exhaled.
"…We ran," he said dryly, "for an hour straight."
Klaus dropped onto a flat stone, sprawling on his back like a man sunbathing instead of fleeing a crime scene. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his tone remained infuriatingly relaxed.
"Mm. Good exercise. Keeps the joints young."
Shane shot him a look. "I almost tripped back there."
"Almost," Klaus echoed. "Yet here you are. Alive."
Shane huffed and leaned against a tree, eyes scanning the treeline out of habit. Only when he was satisfied that nothing followed did he relax his shoulders.
"Do you think they'll chase us?"
Klaus tilted his head, watching a bird flutter nervously from branch to branch above them.
"Unlikely. Half of them are still trying to remember how their legs work." He closed his eyes briefly. "And their pride will keep them busy yelling at each other for a while."
"That woman," Shane muttered. "Wullock blood runs hot."
"She'll live," Klaus replied lightly. "And hate me forever. I've been collecting that sort of thing."
Shane reached into his pocket and pulled out the small cube he'd taken from the chest. He weighed it in his palm before tossing it toward Klaus.
"Then explain this."
Klaus caught it lazily with one hand and sat up. The cube was cool to the touch, its surface etched with angular symbols that didn't belong to any modern script. They shifted subtly when viewed from different angles, as if resisting being understood.
Klaus frowned—just a little.
"…Ancient," he murmured. He rotated it once, then twice. "But not anything I recognize."
Shane crossed his arms. "That's not reassuring."
Klaus tossed it back. "If I don't know it, it's either very valuable or very dangerous."
Shane smirked faintly. "Why not both?"
Before Klaus could respond, Shane began fiddling with the cube, turning sections experimentally, like a curious child with a puzzle toy. There was a soft click.
Both men froze.
The cube pulsed once—then began to glow from within, a deep, ominous blue seeping through its seams.
"…Shane," Klaus said slowly, already shifting his weight.
Shane's eyes widened. "I didn't mean to—"
The glow intensified.
Shane yelped and instinctively hurled the cube away.
"WHY IS IT GLOWING—"
Klaus moved.
In one fluid motion, he grabbed Shane by the collar and vanished.
Phantom Jump.
Reality folded.
They reappeared in a blur—hundreds of meters away—landing hard on a thick tree branch that groaned under their combined weight. Leaves exploded around them as Klaus slammed a hand into the trunk to keep them from falling.
For half a heartbeat, it worked.
Then the world behind them turned white.
The explosion bloomed like a second sun, far larger than it should have been. Light and force tore through the forest, racing across the distance as if space itself meant nothing. The shockwave caught them mid-breath.
The tree shattered.
The light swallowed everything.
Including both men,