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[Lord of the Mysteries] For the Ones We Left Behind 13/15 (5265 words)
Title: For the Ones We Left Behind 13/15
Fandom: Lord of the Mysteries
Character/Pairing(s): Audrey Hall, Leonard Mitchell, Melissa Moretti, Benson Moretti, Klein Moretti, Xio Derecha, Fors Wall
Rating: PG-13
Warning: blood, violence, and an Amon scare.
Summary: MI9 catches Benson Moretti, and end up with more than they expect.
Klein was in a dilemma.
High sequence Beyonders were always a pain to fight, but he found it especially irritating to fight against MI9 demigods, if only because they had the ability to warp and change reality as they saw fit with only a few words.
Case in point, somehow stripping his disguises.
It didn’t make sense! He should have been able to bypass that rule seeing as he arrived as a historical projection of Gehrman Sparrow, and therefore under all the disguises should be Gehrman Sparrow.
Yet even after having thrown himself into the historical void, he could feel that his features were still that of the thin and scholarly Klein Moretti, which didn’t make any sense at all! Did those rules still apply even in the historical void? He could only enter because he would remain in the same spot in the physical world, rather than the spiritual realm which was layered over reality and could be traversed and therefore counted as teleportation.
He brought his hands to his face and scowled as he realised his Faceless abilities had somehow been rendered useless by the command so long as he remained in the area affected. He couldn’t linger long! He couldn’t leave the others to face off against MI9 without any help, but as a historical projection, he had a limited amount of spirituality that had been given by Fors. She offered everything she could, but there was still a difference between a sequence five providing spirituality for a sequence three.
He could summon help, but that would deplete the spirituality fast enough for him to disappear as well, or drain Fors once more.
If it came down to it, Klein lampooned, he would be able to summon just once for help.
He loitered in the historical void as he thought, stepping between recent eras with half a mind to step into Sefirah Castle to see what items he could use for this fight, even if he might lose it after. Creeping Hunger would have been helpful, but Klein wasn’t willing to go to Amon to get it back.
Without his summons or disguises, anything he attempted would be prohibited and restricted the moment he tried!
He paused, and realised that it didn’t matter! While he trusted Audrey, Fors, and Xio to handle themselves against MI9, accidents could happen and he wasn’t going to leave them on their own when the plan originally included him.
Especially not with Benson and Melissa in the frey.
It was fine… no one should recognise Klein Moretti— other than his siblings. But if the others caught a glimpse of him… well, the worst had already happened. Didn’t he originally step away because he wanted to keep his siblings safely away from the Beyonder world?
They were now already caught up in it, and it was his fault.
But he was still reluctant to reveal his identity under Gehrman Sparrow. How would he—
Movement caught his attention, and Klein’s gaze sharpened as he looked over the section of historical void that was blank just a second ago.
It was a dark shadow creeping into existence, a familiar black shadow that crept in under his senses, waiting a distance away from him to seem non-threatening, but also wagging its tail.
Wagging its…?
There was a familiar red flame on one side of its face, as the Hound of Fulgrim stretched out its front paws to lower itself into a bow, except with its head up and looking at him with excitement.
It was the same one as before, Klein realised, and he asked, “Are you willing to accompany me?”
Not as a summon, but as a fully realised sequence three creature following him into battle.
The hound tilted its head to the side, and the tail wagged faster in affirmation. Next to it, several more of the shadowed Hounds came into existence, each of them looking eager as they slowly padded their way over to him with friendly postures, their tails up and wagging and some with their tongues hanging out their impossibly wide mouths.
They were— strangely cute, Klein thought, as he very cautiously laid a hand on one’s head, only to feel it press up against him, eager for the contact. The first time he met a Fulgrim Hound, Klein was prepared for battle, and their actions blindsided him entirely.
The others came up eagerly to vie for his attention as he pet the Hound, and they felt more like lap dogs whining at his clothing rather than the fearsome Guardians of Sefirah Castle.
Cute, Klein thought, expression slowly softening to a smile as a cold nose pressed against his palm. He liked the sleek elegance of cats, but the Fulgrim Hounds weren’t bad, either. With their flaming red eyes and fang filled mouths that pulled back to its ears, the wispy shadows that made up their bodies which were cool and soft, and the way they brushed against his legs only to stop and stare up at him for approval was— it was cute!
He couldn’t trust anyone with no good reason to help him, because there was either a hidden cost or a chance of betrayal, but the Hounds of Fulgrim were his allies, if only for the moment. If they truly served the master of Sefirah Castle, then they would help him so long as he kept that title.
That could solve one issue.
As he pet the hounds absentmindedly, pondering his shifting problems, Klein glimpsed another movement in the distance of the historical void. Unlike the Fulgrim Hounds, it didn’t feel friendly at all.
“Let’s go,” Klein said to the dogs, who perked up eagerly. Beyonder creatures were known for their intelligence— the higher the sequence, the smarter they were, and Klein could see the Fulgrim Hounds were creatures that could easily understand his intent, if not his words.
They followed as he moved away from the historical void toward the present time, some even cantering eagerly ahead of him, looking back every few seconds to ensure he was following. It was a very endearing gesture, and Klein smiled before he wrapped the scarf he had as Gehrman up higher on his neck and face, attempting to obscure his features in this manner if he couldn’t physically change his form.
At the very last, he could pretend to be Gehrman for as long as he could, and if he was lucky enough, soon enough the last rule would end and he'd be able to change back into the crazy adventurer before anyone noticed.
He stepped out of the historical void to find most of the fog gone, and his marionettes motionless across the plaza, the beady eyes of vermin and small animals awaiting his command once more.
This time, he pulled from even further away, sensing the spirit lines of feral cats and dogs that were left behind as the citizens moved away, and manipulating them to him. If necessary, he could change their form, make them better suited for battle against MI9, but that was merely a precaution.
Klein wasn’t going unprepared, and every Marionettist needed his marionettes.
On one side of the plaza, looking somewhat worse for wear was Amyrius and Celt, who were both furious and holding weapons. There were the bodies of MI9 agents littered about, and Klein even saw secretary Luan under a fallen gas lamp.
Across the plaza behind the rubble of some buildings, Klein could sense Xio and Fors, and he looked over at them only to catch Melissa’s gaze. She was peering out dangerously from behind the stones, her brown eyes feverishly bright as she stared right at him.
As one of the Hounds of Fulgrim with a single eye brushed up against his waist, Klein looked down and requested, “Protect the others.”
They would understand what he meant.
He couldn’t see where Audrey was, but he had a feeling she was there keeping the situation under control.
Klein had no problem against two demigods, even if he was merely a historical projection with limited spirituality. With the help of Miss Justice and the Hounds of Fulgrim, he should be able to end the battle quickly.
As they raised their guns to aim at him, Klein darted toward them and lifted a hand to aim an air bullet in their direction. Something small that wouldn’t take too much spirituality, and wouldn’t alarm Benson and Melissa behind him.
Still, the result of the air bullet resounded as a boom in the air around them, and as Celt dodged the attack aimed for his shoulder, there was a sharp crack from the building a distance behind him where stone chipped off.
Two could play that game, Klein thought triumphantly as he dodged out of the way of Amyrius’s tackle. As a magician, he didn’t need a physical gun, and so long as he could dodge them, their strength wouldn’t overwhelm him.
So the problem was their speed.
As Celt took aim at Klein, he suddenly staggered, but then grit his teeth and continued his motions with a slight delay; yet when he shot, the bullet went wide into the sky rather than toward Klein.
Amyrius growled as he got close, and then stumbled over his own feet, eyes unfocused in a wave of dizziness. He recovered quickly enough, his entire face a dark mask of anger, but his movements remained jerky as if suffering through a headache that left him unable to concentrate.
I’ll have to thank Miss Justice later, Klein thought, and kicked out with all his strength behind Amyrius’s knee as he swerved behind him.
Amyrius stumbled, but to Klein’s embarrassment, didn’t go down. Klein kicked again, and then a third time for good measure, before the Minister finally dropped to his knees, his eyes both furious and blurred.
The man opened his mouth, “Exil—”
Yet he didn’t manage to finish his command before a swirl of fog washed over them to disrupt all spirituality for a moment, and in the same manner that Klein appeared, another figure walked out of the fog.
Danger!
Acting on instinct, Klein kicked the Minister in one direction and dodged in another, his clothes flapping in the wind left by the cannon of air that hit the space where they were, crumbing the cobblestone underneath until there was nothing but dirt and shrapnel. The sound of it was belated, an explosion that thundered through his ears.
Klein fell to the ground and rolled to a stop, pushing himself back up to his knees, eyes locked on the figure who appeared.
An older man with a long white beard and black eyes without a hint of light, wrapped in a black robe, using the Air Cannon ability—
Zaratul! Was “He” the one watching me in the historical void?
Was following him to this physical location a sequence one ability or did “He” use a miracle to do that?
The angel of the Seer pathway calmly scanned “His” surroundings, “His” gaze passing over the others until “He” came upon Klein, and then “He” smiled darkly.
—
Fors Wall felt completely over her head.
The man that just showed up was an angel! “He” didn’t attempt to mask “His” presence at all, and that power shook Fors to the core. This sheer presence… it was a real angel, and “He” wasn’t here to help them!
Her hands were shaking hard enough that she could hardly hold onto Xio’s sleeve. Fors hadn’t been this frightened during the fight, hadn’t been this frightened when facing off against demigods, and she hadn’t been this frightened when those shadow dogs appeared out of nowhere. Even now, as those dogs surrounded the group protectively, Fors shook like a strong wind would blow her over.
“Fors,” Xio whispered to her, “can you open a door?”
Could she get them out of here? Fors poked around at her intuition and spirituality, and pressed against the space around them before she shook her head. The rule against teleportation was still in effect, and that meant escape through doors or the spirit realm was out of the question for someone not powerful enough to defy a demigod.
“Who…” Benson spoke up from where he peeked alongside Melissa. There was something strangely calm in his tone, although his posture was that of a coiled snake; but with shaking limbs. Fors felt bad for a moment, as whatever pressure she was feeling, civilians definitely had it worse.
Then the man reached out to the darkness in a manner too familiar to Fors, and pulled a person from the fog.
The historical void? Fors thought with horror. Was that angel of the Seer pathway? With knowledge of the terrifying way Mr. World fought, the angel who appeared was cast in a whole new light for her.
Dear Mr. Fool, Fors thought somewhat deliriously, help!
For a moment, she imagined that the strange looking Mr. World glanced in her direction, but Fors was sure he was more focused on the angel opponent.
Next to her, one of the shadow creatures growled at the fight, stepping forward and then crossing back to them again, as if it couldn’t decide whether to stay with them or join the battle.
The decision was made for them a split second later when the creature turned sharply and lunged out, intercepting Celt who had sped toward them suddenly, catching the man’s leg between its sharp teeth and yanking him off balance.
The man twisted as he fell and pointed his gun point blank at the shadow creature and pulled the trigger once, again, and a third time, causing the creature to let go of him with a sharp whine of pain. It staggered back as the unearthly bullets left holes in its dark form, and then promptly melted into a puddle of shadow and disappeared.
In response, another of the shadow monsters charged at the man, red eyes glowing with fury as it seemed to melt and break apart into two creatures, and then three.
“Summons are prohibited!” Celt yelled out once more, layering another rule to the already heavy area. Once again, it did nothing to the creatures, who now sank their teeth into his arm and side, yanking at him and pulling him as if attempting to rend him limb from limb.
Benson yelled and covered Melissa’s eyes, pulling his sister close and attempting to hide her entirely.
The fight, which had somehow yielded no casualties so far out of a strange respect from both parties, splattered the area with blood.
“All spiritual creatures are restricted!” Amyrius’s voice bellowed.
That had more of an effect on the creatures than the previous command did, although the effect was minor. The ones that didn’t have their teeth clamped into Celt’s flesh snarled and lowered their haunches, looking ready to pounce the moment Amyrius got within range.
Oh, Fors thought with some shock. The reason why those creatures hadn’t attacked directly was because they were still trying to protect them.
The two MI9 demigods seemed to have come to the same conclusion, as Celt’s eyes hardened as he jerked within the grasp on those monsters, and Amyrius turned to aim his gun at the huddled mass that was Benson and Melissa.
Bang!
Without thought, Fors threw herself upon the siblings because she didn’t know if the shadow creatures could move fast enough, and she squeezed her eyes shut in despair, expecting the pain to bore through her back.
But there was nothing.
Fors opened her eyes in a panic at the lack of pain, and saw Xio stare back at her in surprise from the other side where she also lunged forward to protect the Moretti siblings.
The bullet didn’t hit either of them!
They looked upward only to see the shadow of another figure, and Fors nearly gaped to see Miss Audrey, no, Miss Justice standing between them and the demigods, her form just starting to twist and contort in a way that made Fors dizzy, with the most noticeable part being her arms, bulging through her dress and covered with silver-white scales, the claw-like fingers on her hands tearing through her delicate white gloves.
The clatter of a bullet hit the ground, but there was no red blood to accompany it.
“Don’t look,” Audrey gritted out at them, not turning around. She didn’t sound like the sweet young woman Fors was used to, something distorting within her voice to make it sound darker, smokier, and inhuman.
Her mythical creature form! Fors understood, and turned her face away after she made sure to adjust herself in order to fully cover Benson and Melissa’s view as well.
“Cover your ears!” Xio snapped at the siblings and from what Fors could feel through her squeezed shut eyes, they did so. Being non-Beyonders, they were more susceptible to the madness of a mythical creature before them, and if they ran, they’d make an easy target for Celt and Amyrius.
So right now, they would have to rely on Miss Justice and those shadow creatures to fight for them!
—
Zaratul wasted no time with greetings or niceties, instead resorting to “His” usual moves by pulling out the blank-eyed form of sequence one Knowledge Emperor Roselle from the historical void, and then a figure that Klein was unfamiliar with whose presence was just as intimidating as Roselle.
Three angel-level figures against him, and Klein didn’t have the borrowed spiritual energy to match that in battle. But that didn’t matter, because he was merely a historical projection himself despite being the main consciousness, and he merely had to lead the danger away from the others.
With a snap of his fingers, Klein attempted a flame jump to the other side of the plaza, only to find that ability blocked.
Still? Why are only rules still in place the ones I need broken?
Then his figure staggered as his mind screamed with an injection of information, buzzing, hot, and overwhelming, until he collapsed down entirely into a shred of paper that soon tore and disappeared.
With Paper Figurine Substitution, Klein appeared at the other side of the crumpled statue, and brought waves upon waves of marionetted animals upon the three figures, letting them take the blunt of the attacks. Dozens of rats and nesting birds plus a good number of feral cats and dogs tried to bury the three angels alive, and Klein abandoned each marionette when they got too close to being destroyed, feeling the pain for the ones he couldn’t leave in time.
With the way Zaratul’s eyes followed his figure, Klein knew his best bet was to lead the angels away with himself as bait, which meant he would give up on participating in the fight against MI9. That should be fine, with both Audrey and the Fulgrim Hounds taking care of the situation.
With that in mind, Klein turned and ran in the opposite direction, silently cursing his inability to teleport. At least Paper Figure Substitution worked! He didn’t know the area well, but Klein had a mental map from the meeting with the others earlier, and the danger would be leading these figures into an area with civilians, so his best bet was to make his way up to the Tussock River or toward Aston Cemetery—
Klein reached for more marionettes with each second, drawing on any unfortunate animal left on the streets, the larger the better. If he couldn’t teleport, but could still switch—
As the pale projection of Zaratul’s historical summon appeared before him to strike down with a large scythe, Klein switched places with a marionette rat the size of a small cat, choosing to give up the marionette immediately.
Klein did that three more times to draw the battle away, ducking through side streets and narrow alleyways to look like he was trying to lose them, knowing that Zaratul was eying his switches closely. If “He” could follow Klein in the physical world through the historical void, there was no way “He” would lose him here now.
With any luck, Klein thought grimly, Zaratul only did this because “He” thought Klein was the real deal, and would leave disappointed by the time Klein’s own historical projection ended.
There!
Another switch, this time with a cat, and Klein could feel the restrictions breaking as he got far enough away from the original fight. With barely a thought, he switched back to his Gehrman Sparrow disguise between one step and another, and then found a flame several kilometres away, snapping his fingers to jump to it.
With the snap, he stepped onto the uneven cobblestone of the plaza.
Klein froze in shock for a moment, feeling all the restrictions settle back into place and the familiar features of Gehrman melting away once more to uncover his disguise.
Danger!
He switched with another marionette again, ignoring the sharp spike of pain when he lost the Spirit Worm in the process as the historical projection with the scythe came again. The next moment, he was crouched by a pile of rubble, and he noticed the third figure that Zaratul must have pulled out.
It was the deceased George III!
The man had a blank expression on “His” face, but arms in the air, and Klein could feel his perception of the surroundings distort and buckle down, attempting to cut off contact with his marionettes.
Klein attempted to switch once more, only to run into a spiritual wall blocking him in every direction. The three figures closed in on him slowly while Zaratul watched in the background, and Klein shot with an air cannon once, blowing away the Roselle projection, before his mind warped once more and he found his aim distorted after that.
Not good! He was far enough that he could see but not hear the fight between Audrey and the two MI9 demigods in his periphery, and he hadn’t managed to lead Zaratul away at all! If he disappeared soon, would the high sequence Seer go after the others with no target before “Him”?
Klein took a second to think about how bad an idea it was and then reached into the historical void to pull his own trump card before even that ability was distorted.
He only had the spirituality for one projection, so he reached with a hand, grabbed onto an arm, and yanked.
Work, work, work, Klein pleaded, all the while hoping that his ridiculous idea wouldn’t work at all.
The figure from the historical void took one step out, and immediately its eyes brightened and it reached up with one hand to adjust the monocle on “His” eye with an amused smile.
“Oh,” Amon said as “He” took in the surroundings and grabbed onto Klein the moment he let go and tried to escape. Then “He” looked over at the other historical projections, the fight across the plaza, and a suddenly panicked Zaratul, and “His” smile widened into a grin. “Oh, you’ve truly brought me something fun, Mr. Fool.”
The grip on his wrist was like steel, and Klein struggled only for another second before deflating, and watched as Amon’s smile grew teeth and then there was a glint on the monocle and both George III and the unknown scythe user staggered and faded away as their time was stolen from them.
“Admittedly, I don’t normally eat from outside my pathway,” Amon said, “but who am I to decline a gift? Hello, little Zaratul.”
Being a survivor intelligent enough to understand “His” own limitations, the old man turned to run immediately, only to stagger and fall still as the thought of escape was stolen from “His” head.
It was bewildering and just as frightening to see happen to someone else, Klein thought darkly. It’s still fine, he just needed Amon to get rid of Zaratul for him, and then he would dispel the projection—
As if reading the thought, Amon focused “His” attention on Klein once again, and said, “You’re not kicking me out of the party so early, are you? You invited me, after all.”
And then, much to his shock, Klein’s connection with that projection was cut. Amon was operating on “His” own! Amon tsk’ed delicately, looking around with that smile still on “His” face. “Where is this? I don’t recognise this place. How did you get here?”
With it being dark as it was and the area around the plaza bombed to pieces, it didn’t look anything like the Backlund of just a few months ago.
“Did you bring me here because you need my help?” Amon continued to ask, looking as amiable as ever. “He” glanced over at Zaratul and said to Klein, “Should I give “Him” to you as a present? Would you consider being my Blessed if I prove I would choose you over “Him”?”
At Amon’s words, Zaratul started gasping for air, “His” hands going up to claw at “His” throat as the ability to breathe was stolen from “His” body, and Amon’s entirely black eyes turned to bore holes into Klein.
“I could give you “His” Beyonder characteristics to prove my sincerity.”
At this point, Zaratul gave one last gasp and then turned into paper, “His” figure disappearing even as Amon gave a chuff of amusement.
“Oh, little Zaratul,” “He” said lightly, “you need to do better than that. Surely you can’t be worse at escaping me than a newfound Seer, can you?”
As soon as those words were spoken, a figure hiding in the shadows— the Zaratul who managed to escape a few metres away to hide— dropped down as “He” was rendered docile once more.
Amon leaned in and spoke quietly into Klein’s ear, even as Klein attempted to pull away from the warm breath, “What do you say? Wouldn’t you want a backer like me, Mr. Fool? Look at what I’m willing to do for you.”
“Would you leave everyone else alone?” Klein asked, his voice hoarse through the scarf that had partially fallen away from around his face.
“Of course.” Amon’s eyes darted over to the fight on the other side of the plaza. “Why would I care about the flies that buzz around you?”
Klein smiled, and then said honestly, “My answer will never change.”
Amon’s smile faded. “How boring.”
At this point, the grip on his wrist was bound to leave bruises, but that was inconsequential.
If I’m really so boring, Klein lampooned despite himself, why do you keep asking the same thing and expecting a different answer!
“I suppose as a historical projection, I only have so long to find where you are. Is it faster to explore or find out from you directly?”
“You cut our connection,” Klein answered confidently. With what Amon already did, there wouldn’t be much spirituality left. “You can’t draw spirituality from me to do that.”
“Oh, Mr. Fool,” Amon’s smile was back and brighter than ever. “I can just steal that.”
Klein’s eyes widened a fraction the second he felt the rest of his spirituality start to drain away dangerously. Amon didn’t know that he was a historical projection himself! Without that spirituality, he would just disappear!
Taking advantage of the fact that there were no others restricting him now, Klein used the last of his power to switch his consciousness and control to a new marionette as the body of his historical projection dissolved from lack of spirituality.
As the body in Amon’s grasp disappeared, “He” laughed happily.
“Oh, I see now,” Amon said, “should we play a game of hide and seek, then? Should I use the ones over there as bait?”
With a wave of “His” hand, dozens upon dozens of small creatures moving around the plaza dropped dead, and Klein’s connection to them disappeared. Another wave, and then there were less than five scattered about.
The pain made Klein tighten his jaw and freeze as his Spirit Worms died, but he didn’t dare to make a noise and distinguish himself from the pitiful remains of his marionettes. Yet that didn’t help him hide at all as Amon’s eyes darted to him in the dark and the angel said happily, “That form suits you very well. You have the same look in your eyes.”
Klein turned and ran, but didn’t get far before hands wrapped around his midsection and he yowled angrily as he was bodily lifted into the air.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” Amon said gleefully, holding the speckled black cat high in the air effortlessly despite the hissing and violent struggles. “Perhaps I should keep you like this?”
With the limited spirituality Klein had when he summoned Amon, that historical projection wouldn’t last more than another few minutes. He just had to outlast “Him”, and have Amon keep “His” attention on Klein as a distraction.
With that in mind, Klein twisted with the finesse of his current form and bit down on Amon’s hand.
The angel didn’t seem to mind, although “He” squeezed harder and harder until Klein was forced to give up his assault and go limp in order to prevent fragile bones from breaking.
“Yes,” Amon said, “This form suits you very well indeed.”
With that, all the other marionettes were killed, and Klein could only twitch an ear as the connections were severed.
This is fine, Klein thought desperately through the surging panic that made the cat he possessed want to claw its way through the one holding it. So long as I keep “His” attention, everything should be—
Suddenly the remaining fog in the entire plaza was swept away windlessly, and a calm wave of power stepped forward and proclaimed, “All historical projections are restricted.”
The grip around his midsection disappeared and Klein flailed a second as he dropped, but ultimately landed on his feet low to the ground, both winded but also surprised that he was still there.
If Amon disappeared— wasn’t Klein also a historical projection? Wasn’t he…
He was possessing a marionette right now! Klein was stunned. Did that mean this was a way to bypass the historical projection time limit?
No, he could still feel spirituality leaking away second by second, although it was more difficult to ascertain since he was in a body that didn’t have any spirituality to begin with. The drain was slower because of that.
But more importantly—!
The man who stepped into the plaza had a severe frown under “His” thick black beard and a very familiar face with piercing blue eyes. Klein had seen the side profile of that man before many, many times, enough to identify “Him” instantly despite never having met “Him”.
Another high sequence Beyonder of the Arbiter pathway? “He” was an angel! While Klein was certain Miss Audrey could handle her own against Amyrius and Celt, he didn’t think she and the others were prepared to take this person on as well.
As such, Klein found himself stepping in the man’s way, ears flattened and hissing as if he could do anything in this form.
It’s fine! Klein kept repeating to himself in his thoughts, realising that the original plan had gone completely off the rails and now he didn’t even have the spirituality to escape into the grey fog anymore. The moment he released this marionette, he was likely to end up back in the Forsaken Lands where he hid his physical body. I’m just the distraction!
But the man only frowned at him with no clear expression, body language relaxed against the (admittedly) not-so-threatening street cat.
And then from behind the man, a wave of people started to appear from the darkness.
A/N: Amon: /appears and disappears within the span of two minutes at most/ :(
Yes, Celt's connection of a connection informed Zaratul that there was a fight that might concern Gehrman Sparrow. He was belatedly informed of the time and place, and the minor miracle was finding Klein through the wide expanse of the historical void.
I'm playing with abilities again, as Klein often switches places with marionettes, but can actually possess them as well.
As I was in the middle of writing this story, I was hit by the urge, the absolute pregnancy craving, to see cat!Klein. Thus, the story was altered slightly to fit this in!
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Fandom: Lord of the Mysteries
Character/Pairing(s): Audrey Hall, Leonard Mitchell, Melissa Moretti, Benson Moretti, Klein Moretti, Xio Derecha, Fors Wall
Rating: PG-13
Warning: blood, violence, and an Amon scare.
Summary: MI9 catches Benson Moretti, and end up with more than they expect.
Klein was in a dilemma.
High sequence Beyonders were always a pain to fight, but he found it especially irritating to fight against MI9 demigods, if only because they had the ability to warp and change reality as they saw fit with only a few words.
Case in point, somehow stripping his disguises.
It didn’t make sense! He should have been able to bypass that rule seeing as he arrived as a historical projection of Gehrman Sparrow, and therefore under all the disguises should be Gehrman Sparrow.
Yet even after having thrown himself into the historical void, he could feel that his features were still that of the thin and scholarly Klein Moretti, which didn’t make any sense at all! Did those rules still apply even in the historical void? He could only enter because he would remain in the same spot in the physical world, rather than the spiritual realm which was layered over reality and could be traversed and therefore counted as teleportation.
He brought his hands to his face and scowled as he realised his Faceless abilities had somehow been rendered useless by the command so long as he remained in the area affected. He couldn’t linger long! He couldn’t leave the others to face off against MI9 without any help, but as a historical projection, he had a limited amount of spirituality that had been given by Fors. She offered everything she could, but there was still a difference between a sequence five providing spirituality for a sequence three.
He could summon help, but that would deplete the spirituality fast enough for him to disappear as well, or drain Fors once more.
If it came down to it, Klein lampooned, he would be able to summon just once for help.
He loitered in the historical void as he thought, stepping between recent eras with half a mind to step into Sefirah Castle to see what items he could use for this fight, even if he might lose it after. Creeping Hunger would have been helpful, but Klein wasn’t willing to go to Amon to get it back.
Without his summons or disguises, anything he attempted would be prohibited and restricted the moment he tried!
He paused, and realised that it didn’t matter! While he trusted Audrey, Fors, and Xio to handle themselves against MI9, accidents could happen and he wasn’t going to leave them on their own when the plan originally included him.
Especially not with Benson and Melissa in the frey.
It was fine… no one should recognise Klein Moretti— other than his siblings. But if the others caught a glimpse of him… well, the worst had already happened. Didn’t he originally step away because he wanted to keep his siblings safely away from the Beyonder world?
They were now already caught up in it, and it was his fault.
But he was still reluctant to reveal his identity under Gehrman Sparrow. How would he—
Movement caught his attention, and Klein’s gaze sharpened as he looked over the section of historical void that was blank just a second ago.
It was a dark shadow creeping into existence, a familiar black shadow that crept in under his senses, waiting a distance away from him to seem non-threatening, but also wagging its tail.
Wagging its…?
There was a familiar red flame on one side of its face, as the Hound of Fulgrim stretched out its front paws to lower itself into a bow, except with its head up and looking at him with excitement.
It was the same one as before, Klein realised, and he asked, “Are you willing to accompany me?”
Not as a summon, but as a fully realised sequence three creature following him into battle.
The hound tilted its head to the side, and the tail wagged faster in affirmation. Next to it, several more of the shadowed Hounds came into existence, each of them looking eager as they slowly padded their way over to him with friendly postures, their tails up and wagging and some with their tongues hanging out their impossibly wide mouths.
They were— strangely cute, Klein thought, as he very cautiously laid a hand on one’s head, only to feel it press up against him, eager for the contact. The first time he met a Fulgrim Hound, Klein was prepared for battle, and their actions blindsided him entirely.
The others came up eagerly to vie for his attention as he pet the Hound, and they felt more like lap dogs whining at his clothing rather than the fearsome Guardians of Sefirah Castle.
Cute, Klein thought, expression slowly softening to a smile as a cold nose pressed against his palm. He liked the sleek elegance of cats, but the Fulgrim Hounds weren’t bad, either. With their flaming red eyes and fang filled mouths that pulled back to its ears, the wispy shadows that made up their bodies which were cool and soft, and the way they brushed against his legs only to stop and stare up at him for approval was— it was cute!
He couldn’t trust anyone with no good reason to help him, because there was either a hidden cost or a chance of betrayal, but the Hounds of Fulgrim were his allies, if only for the moment. If they truly served the master of Sefirah Castle, then they would help him so long as he kept that title.
That could solve one issue.
As he pet the hounds absentmindedly, pondering his shifting problems, Klein glimpsed another movement in the distance of the historical void. Unlike the Fulgrim Hounds, it didn’t feel friendly at all.
“Let’s go,” Klein said to the dogs, who perked up eagerly. Beyonder creatures were known for their intelligence— the higher the sequence, the smarter they were, and Klein could see the Fulgrim Hounds were creatures that could easily understand his intent, if not his words.
They followed as he moved away from the historical void toward the present time, some even cantering eagerly ahead of him, looking back every few seconds to ensure he was following. It was a very endearing gesture, and Klein smiled before he wrapped the scarf he had as Gehrman up higher on his neck and face, attempting to obscure his features in this manner if he couldn’t physically change his form.
At the very last, he could pretend to be Gehrman for as long as he could, and if he was lucky enough, soon enough the last rule would end and he'd be able to change back into the crazy adventurer before anyone noticed.
He stepped out of the historical void to find most of the fog gone, and his marionettes motionless across the plaza, the beady eyes of vermin and small animals awaiting his command once more.
This time, he pulled from even further away, sensing the spirit lines of feral cats and dogs that were left behind as the citizens moved away, and manipulating them to him. If necessary, he could change their form, make them better suited for battle against MI9, but that was merely a precaution.
Klein wasn’t going unprepared, and every Marionettist needed his marionettes.
On one side of the plaza, looking somewhat worse for wear was Amyrius and Celt, who were both furious and holding weapons. There were the bodies of MI9 agents littered about, and Klein even saw secretary Luan under a fallen gas lamp.
Across the plaza behind the rubble of some buildings, Klein could sense Xio and Fors, and he looked over at them only to catch Melissa’s gaze. She was peering out dangerously from behind the stones, her brown eyes feverishly bright as she stared right at him.
As one of the Hounds of Fulgrim with a single eye brushed up against his waist, Klein looked down and requested, “Protect the others.”
They would understand what he meant.
He couldn’t see where Audrey was, but he had a feeling she was there keeping the situation under control.
Klein had no problem against two demigods, even if he was merely a historical projection with limited spirituality. With the help of Miss Justice and the Hounds of Fulgrim, he should be able to end the battle quickly.
As they raised their guns to aim at him, Klein darted toward them and lifted a hand to aim an air bullet in their direction. Something small that wouldn’t take too much spirituality, and wouldn’t alarm Benson and Melissa behind him.
Still, the result of the air bullet resounded as a boom in the air around them, and as Celt dodged the attack aimed for his shoulder, there was a sharp crack from the building a distance behind him where stone chipped off.
Two could play that game, Klein thought triumphantly as he dodged out of the way of Amyrius’s tackle. As a magician, he didn’t need a physical gun, and so long as he could dodge them, their strength wouldn’t overwhelm him.
So the problem was their speed.
As Celt took aim at Klein, he suddenly staggered, but then grit his teeth and continued his motions with a slight delay; yet when he shot, the bullet went wide into the sky rather than toward Klein.
Amyrius growled as he got close, and then stumbled over his own feet, eyes unfocused in a wave of dizziness. He recovered quickly enough, his entire face a dark mask of anger, but his movements remained jerky as if suffering through a headache that left him unable to concentrate.
I’ll have to thank Miss Justice later, Klein thought, and kicked out with all his strength behind Amyrius’s knee as he swerved behind him.
Amyrius stumbled, but to Klein’s embarrassment, didn’t go down. Klein kicked again, and then a third time for good measure, before the Minister finally dropped to his knees, his eyes both furious and blurred.
The man opened his mouth, “Exil—”
Yet he didn’t manage to finish his command before a swirl of fog washed over them to disrupt all spirituality for a moment, and in the same manner that Klein appeared, another figure walked out of the fog.
Danger!
Acting on instinct, Klein kicked the Minister in one direction and dodged in another, his clothes flapping in the wind left by the cannon of air that hit the space where they were, crumbing the cobblestone underneath until there was nothing but dirt and shrapnel. The sound of it was belated, an explosion that thundered through his ears.
Klein fell to the ground and rolled to a stop, pushing himself back up to his knees, eyes locked on the figure who appeared.
An older man with a long white beard and black eyes without a hint of light, wrapped in a black robe, using the Air Cannon ability—
Zaratul! Was “He” the one watching me in the historical void?
Was following him to this physical location a sequence one ability or did “He” use a miracle to do that?
The angel of the Seer pathway calmly scanned “His” surroundings, “His” gaze passing over the others until “He” came upon Klein, and then “He” smiled darkly.
—
Fors Wall felt completely over her head.
The man that just showed up was an angel! “He” didn’t attempt to mask “His” presence at all, and that power shook Fors to the core. This sheer presence… it was a real angel, and “He” wasn’t here to help them!
Her hands were shaking hard enough that she could hardly hold onto Xio’s sleeve. Fors hadn’t been this frightened during the fight, hadn’t been this frightened when facing off against demigods, and she hadn’t been this frightened when those shadow dogs appeared out of nowhere. Even now, as those dogs surrounded the group protectively, Fors shook like a strong wind would blow her over.
“Fors,” Xio whispered to her, “can you open a door?”
Could she get them out of here? Fors poked around at her intuition and spirituality, and pressed against the space around them before she shook her head. The rule against teleportation was still in effect, and that meant escape through doors or the spirit realm was out of the question for someone not powerful enough to defy a demigod.
“Who…” Benson spoke up from where he peeked alongside Melissa. There was something strangely calm in his tone, although his posture was that of a coiled snake; but with shaking limbs. Fors felt bad for a moment, as whatever pressure she was feeling, civilians definitely had it worse.
Then the man reached out to the darkness in a manner too familiar to Fors, and pulled a person from the fog.
The historical void? Fors thought with horror. Was that angel of the Seer pathway? With knowledge of the terrifying way Mr. World fought, the angel who appeared was cast in a whole new light for her.
Dear Mr. Fool, Fors thought somewhat deliriously, help!
For a moment, she imagined that the strange looking Mr. World glanced in her direction, but Fors was sure he was more focused on the angel opponent.
Next to her, one of the shadow creatures growled at the fight, stepping forward and then crossing back to them again, as if it couldn’t decide whether to stay with them or join the battle.
The decision was made for them a split second later when the creature turned sharply and lunged out, intercepting Celt who had sped toward them suddenly, catching the man’s leg between its sharp teeth and yanking him off balance.
The man twisted as he fell and pointed his gun point blank at the shadow creature and pulled the trigger once, again, and a third time, causing the creature to let go of him with a sharp whine of pain. It staggered back as the unearthly bullets left holes in its dark form, and then promptly melted into a puddle of shadow and disappeared.
In response, another of the shadow monsters charged at the man, red eyes glowing with fury as it seemed to melt and break apart into two creatures, and then three.
“Summons are prohibited!” Celt yelled out once more, layering another rule to the already heavy area. Once again, it did nothing to the creatures, who now sank their teeth into his arm and side, yanking at him and pulling him as if attempting to rend him limb from limb.
Benson yelled and covered Melissa’s eyes, pulling his sister close and attempting to hide her entirely.
The fight, which had somehow yielded no casualties so far out of a strange respect from both parties, splattered the area with blood.
“All spiritual creatures are restricted!” Amyrius’s voice bellowed.
That had more of an effect on the creatures than the previous command did, although the effect was minor. The ones that didn’t have their teeth clamped into Celt’s flesh snarled and lowered their haunches, looking ready to pounce the moment Amyrius got within range.
Oh, Fors thought with some shock. The reason why those creatures hadn’t attacked directly was because they were still trying to protect them.
The two MI9 demigods seemed to have come to the same conclusion, as Celt’s eyes hardened as he jerked within the grasp on those monsters, and Amyrius turned to aim his gun at the huddled mass that was Benson and Melissa.
Bang!
Without thought, Fors threw herself upon the siblings because she didn’t know if the shadow creatures could move fast enough, and she squeezed her eyes shut in despair, expecting the pain to bore through her back.
But there was nothing.
Fors opened her eyes in a panic at the lack of pain, and saw Xio stare back at her in surprise from the other side where she also lunged forward to protect the Moretti siblings.
The bullet didn’t hit either of them!
They looked upward only to see the shadow of another figure, and Fors nearly gaped to see Miss Audrey, no, Miss Justice standing between them and the demigods, her form just starting to twist and contort in a way that made Fors dizzy, with the most noticeable part being her arms, bulging through her dress and covered with silver-white scales, the claw-like fingers on her hands tearing through her delicate white gloves.
The clatter of a bullet hit the ground, but there was no red blood to accompany it.
“Don’t look,” Audrey gritted out at them, not turning around. She didn’t sound like the sweet young woman Fors was used to, something distorting within her voice to make it sound darker, smokier, and inhuman.
Her mythical creature form! Fors understood, and turned her face away after she made sure to adjust herself in order to fully cover Benson and Melissa’s view as well.
“Cover your ears!” Xio snapped at the siblings and from what Fors could feel through her squeezed shut eyes, they did so. Being non-Beyonders, they were more susceptible to the madness of a mythical creature before them, and if they ran, they’d make an easy target for Celt and Amyrius.
So right now, they would have to rely on Miss Justice and those shadow creatures to fight for them!
—
Zaratul wasted no time with greetings or niceties, instead resorting to “His” usual moves by pulling out the blank-eyed form of sequence one Knowledge Emperor Roselle from the historical void, and then a figure that Klein was unfamiliar with whose presence was just as intimidating as Roselle.
Three angel-level figures against him, and Klein didn’t have the borrowed spiritual energy to match that in battle. But that didn’t matter, because he was merely a historical projection himself despite being the main consciousness, and he merely had to lead the danger away from the others.
With a snap of his fingers, Klein attempted a flame jump to the other side of the plaza, only to find that ability blocked.
Still? Why are only rules still in place the ones I need broken?
Then his figure staggered as his mind screamed with an injection of information, buzzing, hot, and overwhelming, until he collapsed down entirely into a shred of paper that soon tore and disappeared.
With Paper Figurine Substitution, Klein appeared at the other side of the crumpled statue, and brought waves upon waves of marionetted animals upon the three figures, letting them take the blunt of the attacks. Dozens of rats and nesting birds plus a good number of feral cats and dogs tried to bury the three angels alive, and Klein abandoned each marionette when they got too close to being destroyed, feeling the pain for the ones he couldn’t leave in time.
With the way Zaratul’s eyes followed his figure, Klein knew his best bet was to lead the angels away with himself as bait, which meant he would give up on participating in the fight against MI9. That should be fine, with both Audrey and the Fulgrim Hounds taking care of the situation.
With that in mind, Klein turned and ran in the opposite direction, silently cursing his inability to teleport. At least Paper Figure Substitution worked! He didn’t know the area well, but Klein had a mental map from the meeting with the others earlier, and the danger would be leading these figures into an area with civilians, so his best bet was to make his way up to the Tussock River or toward Aston Cemetery—
Klein reached for more marionettes with each second, drawing on any unfortunate animal left on the streets, the larger the better. If he couldn’t teleport, but could still switch—
As the pale projection of Zaratul’s historical summon appeared before him to strike down with a large scythe, Klein switched places with a marionette rat the size of a small cat, choosing to give up the marionette immediately.
Klein did that three more times to draw the battle away, ducking through side streets and narrow alleyways to look like he was trying to lose them, knowing that Zaratul was eying his switches closely. If “He” could follow Klein in the physical world through the historical void, there was no way “He” would lose him here now.
With any luck, Klein thought grimly, Zaratul only did this because “He” thought Klein was the real deal, and would leave disappointed by the time Klein’s own historical projection ended.
There!
Another switch, this time with a cat, and Klein could feel the restrictions breaking as he got far enough away from the original fight. With barely a thought, he switched back to his Gehrman Sparrow disguise between one step and another, and then found a flame several kilometres away, snapping his fingers to jump to it.
With the snap, he stepped onto the uneven cobblestone of the plaza.
Klein froze in shock for a moment, feeling all the restrictions settle back into place and the familiar features of Gehrman melting away once more to uncover his disguise.
Danger!
He switched with another marionette again, ignoring the sharp spike of pain when he lost the Spirit Worm in the process as the historical projection with the scythe came again. The next moment, he was crouched by a pile of rubble, and he noticed the third figure that Zaratul must have pulled out.
It was the deceased George III!
The man had a blank expression on “His” face, but arms in the air, and Klein could feel his perception of the surroundings distort and buckle down, attempting to cut off contact with his marionettes.
Klein attempted to switch once more, only to run into a spiritual wall blocking him in every direction. The three figures closed in on him slowly while Zaratul watched in the background, and Klein shot with an air cannon once, blowing away the Roselle projection, before his mind warped once more and he found his aim distorted after that.
Not good! He was far enough that he could see but not hear the fight between Audrey and the two MI9 demigods in his periphery, and he hadn’t managed to lead Zaratul away at all! If he disappeared soon, would the high sequence Seer go after the others with no target before “Him”?
Klein took a second to think about how bad an idea it was and then reached into the historical void to pull his own trump card before even that ability was distorted.
He only had the spirituality for one projection, so he reached with a hand, grabbed onto an arm, and yanked.
Work, work, work, Klein pleaded, all the while hoping that his ridiculous idea wouldn’t work at all.
The figure from the historical void took one step out, and immediately its eyes brightened and it reached up with one hand to adjust the monocle on “His” eye with an amused smile.
“Oh,” Amon said as “He” took in the surroundings and grabbed onto Klein the moment he let go and tried to escape. Then “He” looked over at the other historical projections, the fight across the plaza, and a suddenly panicked Zaratul, and “His” smile widened into a grin. “Oh, you’ve truly brought me something fun, Mr. Fool.”
The grip on his wrist was like steel, and Klein struggled only for another second before deflating, and watched as Amon’s smile grew teeth and then there was a glint on the monocle and both George III and the unknown scythe user staggered and faded away as their time was stolen from them.
“Admittedly, I don’t normally eat from outside my pathway,” Amon said, “but who am I to decline a gift? Hello, little Zaratul.”
Being a survivor intelligent enough to understand “His” own limitations, the old man turned to run immediately, only to stagger and fall still as the thought of escape was stolen from “His” head.
It was bewildering and just as frightening to see happen to someone else, Klein thought darkly. It’s still fine, he just needed Amon to get rid of Zaratul for him, and then he would dispel the projection—
As if reading the thought, Amon focused “His” attention on Klein once again, and said, “You’re not kicking me out of the party so early, are you? You invited me, after all.”
And then, much to his shock, Klein’s connection with that projection was cut. Amon was operating on “His” own! Amon tsk’ed delicately, looking around with that smile still on “His” face. “Where is this? I don’t recognise this place. How did you get here?”
With it being dark as it was and the area around the plaza bombed to pieces, it didn’t look anything like the Backlund of just a few months ago.
“Did you bring me here because you need my help?” Amon continued to ask, looking as amiable as ever. “He” glanced over at Zaratul and said to Klein, “Should I give “Him” to you as a present? Would you consider being my Blessed if I prove I would choose you over “Him”?”
At Amon’s words, Zaratul started gasping for air, “His” hands going up to claw at “His” throat as the ability to breathe was stolen from “His” body, and Amon’s entirely black eyes turned to bore holes into Klein.
“I could give you “His” Beyonder characteristics to prove my sincerity.”
At this point, Zaratul gave one last gasp and then turned into paper, “His” figure disappearing even as Amon gave a chuff of amusement.
“Oh, little Zaratul,” “He” said lightly, “you need to do better than that. Surely you can’t be worse at escaping me than a newfound Seer, can you?”
As soon as those words were spoken, a figure hiding in the shadows— the Zaratul who managed to escape a few metres away to hide— dropped down as “He” was rendered docile once more.
Amon leaned in and spoke quietly into Klein’s ear, even as Klein attempted to pull away from the warm breath, “What do you say? Wouldn’t you want a backer like me, Mr. Fool? Look at what I’m willing to do for you.”
“Would you leave everyone else alone?” Klein asked, his voice hoarse through the scarf that had partially fallen away from around his face.
“Of course.” Amon’s eyes darted over to the fight on the other side of the plaza. “Why would I care about the flies that buzz around you?”
Klein smiled, and then said honestly, “My answer will never change.”
Amon’s smile faded. “How boring.”
At this point, the grip on his wrist was bound to leave bruises, but that was inconsequential.
If I’m really so boring, Klein lampooned despite himself, why do you keep asking the same thing and expecting a different answer!
“I suppose as a historical projection, I only have so long to find where you are. Is it faster to explore or find out from you directly?”
“You cut our connection,” Klein answered confidently. With what Amon already did, there wouldn’t be much spirituality left. “You can’t draw spirituality from me to do that.”
“Oh, Mr. Fool,” Amon’s smile was back and brighter than ever. “I can just steal that.”
Klein’s eyes widened a fraction the second he felt the rest of his spirituality start to drain away dangerously. Amon didn’t know that he was a historical projection himself! Without that spirituality, he would just disappear!
Taking advantage of the fact that there were no others restricting him now, Klein used the last of his power to switch his consciousness and control to a new marionette as the body of his historical projection dissolved from lack of spirituality.
As the body in Amon’s grasp disappeared, “He” laughed happily.
“Oh, I see now,” Amon said, “should we play a game of hide and seek, then? Should I use the ones over there as bait?”
With a wave of “His” hand, dozens upon dozens of small creatures moving around the plaza dropped dead, and Klein’s connection to them disappeared. Another wave, and then there were less than five scattered about.
The pain made Klein tighten his jaw and freeze as his Spirit Worms died, but he didn’t dare to make a noise and distinguish himself from the pitiful remains of his marionettes. Yet that didn’t help him hide at all as Amon’s eyes darted to him in the dark and the angel said happily, “That form suits you very well. You have the same look in your eyes.”
Klein turned and ran, but didn’t get far before hands wrapped around his midsection and he yowled angrily as he was bodily lifted into the air.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” Amon said gleefully, holding the speckled black cat high in the air effortlessly despite the hissing and violent struggles. “Perhaps I should keep you like this?”
With the limited spirituality Klein had when he summoned Amon, that historical projection wouldn’t last more than another few minutes. He just had to outlast “Him”, and have Amon keep “His” attention on Klein as a distraction.
With that in mind, Klein twisted with the finesse of his current form and bit down on Amon’s hand.
The angel didn’t seem to mind, although “He” squeezed harder and harder until Klein was forced to give up his assault and go limp in order to prevent fragile bones from breaking.
“Yes,” Amon said, “This form suits you very well indeed.”
With that, all the other marionettes were killed, and Klein could only twitch an ear as the connections were severed.
This is fine, Klein thought desperately through the surging panic that made the cat he possessed want to claw its way through the one holding it. So long as I keep “His” attention, everything should be—
Suddenly the remaining fog in the entire plaza was swept away windlessly, and a calm wave of power stepped forward and proclaimed, “All historical projections are restricted.”
The grip around his midsection disappeared and Klein flailed a second as he dropped, but ultimately landed on his feet low to the ground, both winded but also surprised that he was still there.
If Amon disappeared— wasn’t Klein also a historical projection? Wasn’t he…
He was possessing a marionette right now! Klein was stunned. Did that mean this was a way to bypass the historical projection time limit?
No, he could still feel spirituality leaking away second by second, although it was more difficult to ascertain since he was in a body that didn’t have any spirituality to begin with. The drain was slower because of that.
But more importantly—!
The man who stepped into the plaza had a severe frown under “His” thick black beard and a very familiar face with piercing blue eyes. Klein had seen the side profile of that man before many, many times, enough to identify “Him” instantly despite never having met “Him”.
Another high sequence Beyonder of the Arbiter pathway? “He” was an angel! While Klein was certain Miss Audrey could handle her own against Amyrius and Celt, he didn’t think she and the others were prepared to take this person on as well.
As such, Klein found himself stepping in the man’s way, ears flattened and hissing as if he could do anything in this form.
It’s fine! Klein kept repeating to himself in his thoughts, realising that the original plan had gone completely off the rails and now he didn’t even have the spirituality to escape into the grey fog anymore. The moment he released this marionette, he was likely to end up back in the Forsaken Lands where he hid his physical body. I’m just the distraction!
But the man only frowned at him with no clear expression, body language relaxed against the (admittedly) not-so-threatening street cat.
And then from behind the man, a wave of people started to appear from the darkness.
A/N: Amon: /appears and disappears within the span of two minutes at most/ :(
Yes, Celt's connection of a connection informed Zaratul that there was a fight that might concern Gehrman Sparrow. He was belatedly informed of the time and place, and the minor miracle was finding Klein through the wide expanse of the historical void.
I'm playing with abilities again, as Klein often switches places with marionettes, but can actually possess them as well.
As I was in the middle of writing this story, I was hit by the urge, the absolute pregnancy craving, to see cat!Klein. Thus, the story was altered slightly to fit this in!