suspended in the night sky like a solitary star adrift in a sea of clouds. The air was thin and still. Wisps of vapor drifted lazily past him, brushing against his coat like fleeting thoughts. The world below was distant, irrelevant. Up here, everything was quiet—no voices, no battles, no ambition clawing at his back. Just the sky… and the infinite silence of the cosmos.
Klaus closed his eye, letting the moment wash over him.
He'd always felt strangely at peace in the air—weightless, unanchored. But it wasn't just the sky that drew him. It was what lay beyond. The cosmos. That infinite ocean of light and shadow, beauty and madness. It called to him in a way nothing else ever had.
Space wasn't empty. Not really. It was everything and nothing at once. Boundless, unknowable, and unafraid. Klaus admired that.
And yet, tonight, there was something—someone—far more captivating than the stars.
Cassie floated beside him, her form effortlessly held aloft by Klaus's gentle manipulation of gravity. At first, she'd panicked. The feeling of having nothing beneath her feet was foreign and overwhelming. But now, now that she'd relaxed… she was laughing. Genuinely laughing, letting clouds pass through her like a spirit made of light.
The sense of freedom made her giddy.
"I think I get it now," she said, voice soft and awe-struck. "Why you disappear up here sometimes… it feels like the world disappears too."
Klaus didn't say anything. He simply watched her. Or rather—he let her see through him. She couldn't see with her own eyes, but she was using his. He made sure to take everything in for her—every cloud's movement, the gentle shimmer of starlight, even the way the moonlight painted her skin in silver hues.
Of course, he wasn't using his Divine Eyes of the Void. Last time she'd looked through those, it overwhelmed her mind completely. The sheer volume of perception—the impossible geometry, the twisted layers of reality, colors that had no name—nearly broke her.
Cassie had only caught a glimpse before her nose bled, her temples throbbed, and her vision burned into blackness.
What she hadn't understood until then was just how different his perception was.
Still… she was curious. Watching a cloud drift lazily through her hand, she tilted her head and asked, "How do you teleport?"
Klaus quirked a brow, then casually flipped upside down in midair, arms and legs crossed like a lazy cat. A smirk danced on his lips.
"Hmm… do you think wormholes are real?"
Cassie frowned, thoughtful. "They… should be, I guess? Tethers and gateways are kind of like them."
"Close," he said, amused. "Let's put it this way. Imagine the cosmos is a giant, flat sheet. Now bend it just the right way—poke a hole in two spots—and you can jump across vast distances instantly. That's what a wormhole is. A shortcut between two impossibly far points."
She listened closely, trying to keep up.
"I open those doors," he said. "I see hundreds—sometimes thousands—of shimmering orbs. Each one a different destination. I pass through them in less than a second. But…" He held up his hand, letting it flicker translucent. "Miss the right angle, mess up the timing… and I could fall into the vacuum of space. Or worse."
Cassie stared at him, a little slack-jawed. "…That's insane."
Still, she felt a tinge of envy. Klaus could see such a beautiful world whenever he wanted. He could fly in the sky, see stars and the wonders of the world at any moment, while she remained grounded—watching him soar freely above. He was free in a way most people would never understand.
But... was he truly free?
She knew he wasn't. It wasn't the world holding him back, but rather shackles he had forged himself. That was the heartbreaking part—seeing someone so powerful, yet bound by duty, responsibility, promises... and guilt.
He reminded her of a traveler who smiled through the storm, laughing with a heavy pack strapped to his back—so no one would feel the need to help. So no one would worry.
And that… hurt her to see.
She didn't want Klaus to float among the stars just to escape the rot of the world below. She wanted him to fly simply because it brought him joy. To laugh not as a defense mechanism, but because he was truly happy.
Because she knew Klaus didn't only see the beauty of cosmos.
He saw the sins, too.
Cassie had seen the truth—through his eyes, she'd seen the hidden sins of the world. When she saw her own reflection in that sight, it wasn't her face she saw… but a serpent. A creature of lies, of misdirection, of fear. The truth Klaus saw in her wasn't beautiful. But he hadn't turned away. He hadn't flinched.
To see herself that way—it was horrifying.
And yet... that only made her feelings for him stronger.
Because how could you not love someone who truly saw your real face—and still chose to love you? Not just the good parts, but the bad ones, too.
It made her love him even more.
But she also couldn't help feeling sadness for what he sees every day.
She glanced at him, and the quiet ache urged her to be closer. Maybe if she could just reach him, just touch him—maybe some of that heaviness would ease.
With a determined huff, she tried to float closer.
She failed miserably.
Instead of a graceful drift, she tilted awkwardly, legs flailing, dress ruffling, and body spiraling like a kite caught in crosswinds. Her expression twisted into horror as she spun, only managing to grab a puff of cloud for balance—which obviously didn't work.
Klaus turned just in time to witness the spectacle.
He blinked once.
Then burst out laughing.
"Bwahahahaha!"
She looked... embarrassing.
And funny, if he was being honest.
Cassie's cheeks burned crimson, her hands flying to cover her thighs.
"Nik... can you... uhm... why are you staring—stop staring at my underwear!"
Klaus waved a hand in dismissal, smirking.
"Meh, It's not like I don't already know what's inside the mystery box."
Her mouth dropped open. What?!
"I swear, Klaus—I will kill you," she hissed through clenched teeth, looking away, mortified.
Cassie began plotting instantly. Poison. That was a classic. Would it work on him? Nephis and Sunny were both resistant, but Klaus wasn't the same. He was more like Mordret in that way—still very human, in some areas. Maybe she just needed the right dose…
Meanwhile, Klaus had finished laughing (mostly), and with a casual wave of his hand, gently adjusted the air currents around her, balancing her body midair. In seconds, Cassie found herself sitting comfortably on a soft, misty swirl of cloud beside him—like a queen on a floating throne.
She exhaled deeply, her dignity somewhat recovered.
Klaus leaned back, arms crossed behind his head as he floated lazily beside her, the stars above them and earth below.
Cassie floated closer, her voice barely a whisper. "It's beautiful… what you see. But I wish you didn't have to see so much of the ugliness too."
She pursed her lips, uncertain of the words gathering on her tongue. Then, with a soft exhale, she let the silence fall away.
"Nik… I know that sometimes you feel frustrated, bitter… and disappointed."
Klaus didn't respond at first. He simply reclined in the sky, one hand lazily propping up his head, the other loosely at his side as he floated like a leaf caught in an endless breeze.
His eyebrow arched faintly. "Hmm? How so?"
She smiled gently, her expression softening as she looked up at the stars.
"Sigh… I mean, look at us. We're at the pinnacle of our kind. Humanity has survived the collapse of the old world, we've discovered Dream Realm, fought back the nightmare creatures, and built a new civilization on the bones of the old one…"
Klaus shrugged, puzzled. "So? Sounds like progress."
She chuckled, soft and self-aware, and shifted her weight slightly—then, without much thought, laid her head in his lap.
It was awkward. Floating in midair while lying in someone's lap should have been weird.
But somehow… it felt natural.
"Well… We've clearly moved past the Dark Ages. There's no nuclear wars, and we live longer, healthier lives with access to comforts unimaginable a century ago… But at the same time, life is incredibly hard. Over ten thousand people died just yesterday because of gate outbreaks around the world. Millions still live in extreme poverty, and even in wealthy societies, there's constant unfairness and daily struggle..."
Her tone turned quieter, more reflective. She, too, could see the world from a different perspective—much like Klaus. And what she saw… wasn't something she liked.
"We're divided. We keep failing to solve our problems while creating new ones, all while destroying the world in the process. In many ways, we're still living in dark times. It's so easy to feel disconnected, powerless… like we're staring down problems far too big to fix..."
She swallowed, her expression growing more still—like a calm lake hiding something deep beneath the surface.
Because her visions didn't show peace. They showed ending.
Everyone dead. Everything burned.
And she would be there. A witness to it all.
"So the state of the world fills us with dread. With hopelessness. I feel it too. And I understand why you're disappointed… why you're tired. It's one of the defining stories of our time, and… there's truth in it."
Klaus's face was cold and unreadable, his gaze distant, touched with melancholy.
Cassie sighed, smiling faintly despite the storm in her heart.
"You know my true name, right? Song of the Fallen… It means I'm destined to witness the fates of others. To carry the memories of those long gone. To stand by, powerless to stop what I see coming. Just a watcher..."
Her smile faded, replaced by something sharper.
"But I don't want that, Nik. I hate it. I loathe it. I don't want to just watch as the world is overrun by Abominations. I don't want to be a passive soul in a dying story. I don't want to watch as the people I love are swallowed by monsters and silence. I don't want to be a poem carved into the last page of a book no one will read."
Her voice wasn't shaking. It was steady and fierce.
"And you—" she looked up at him, her blind eyes fierce with light "—you understand that, don't you? You see how broken it all is. How cursed our story feels."
She went quiet again, her hands clenched and her jaw tight.
Cassie didn't want comfort. Not really. She didn't want false hope or sweet words. All she wanted… was to spit in fate's face.
Klaus shook his head and smiled softly, ruffling her hair.
Cassie huffed, cheeks puffing out in protest. "Nik…"
"Well… I see. But we are storytelling creatures, love. We think in narratives and live in a network of stories that make up our world. So, without minimizing the darkness, we try to add the story that helps us deal with the world."
He said it with a humorous expression and laughed again—loud and full of life, arms thrown wide to embrace the endless sky. His hair danced in the wind, and for a moment, it felt like nothing could touch him.
Cassie could only smile as she watched him, whispering so quietly that not even the stars would hear.
"I hope you always stay like this, Nik… Free."
Klaus glanced back and chuckled, shaking his head.
"I hope so too."
Her smile widened—until something caught her eye. A flicker of white in the corner of her vision.
Wait…
Was his hair… turning white?
***
Hey guys! So… what do you think happened at the end? Can you guess what he did? It's probably an easy one, so I bet you figured it out.
Cassie uses Klaus's eyes when she wants to see the world—but when it comes to seeing his face, she relies on her future sight instead. I didn't write "she used her Awakened ability" every time, so I hope that part came across clearly.
Thanks so much for reading and for all your support—I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
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