The sun filtered through the thin curtain, illuminating the room with a soft light.
Klein, still sleeping, felt a throbbing pain in his head, as if someone had struck his head with an axe repeatedly.
No!
It was more like a sharp object had pierced his temple, twisting it in the process!
In his stupor, he tried to turn over, hold his head, and sit up, but he couldn't move his limbs. They refused to budge, leaving him completely immobilized and defenseless.
He felt as if he had spent the entire night drinking, even without touching alcohol. He tried to concentrate his will on waking up to take some medicine and go back to sleep, but his will seemed as insubstantial as a wisp of mist, present one moment and then gone the next. His thoughts refused to be controlled or examined. No matter how hard he tried, his focus kept slipping away, while random notions and images bubbled up unsolicited.
Finally, he opened his eyes, fully freeing himself from his reverie. He blinked a few times, trying to organize his thoughts, but all he found was confusion.
"... Am I in the hospital...?" he murmured, his voice hoarse.
His last memories came like an electric current that numbed his mind: he clearly remembered handing in his resignation letter with trembling hands, but a heart full of joy. That job sucked the life out of him more than anything, and quitting it had been like breaking invisible chains. He was so happy that he walked the streets laughing, even skipping like a child who had just gained freedom.
And then... the headlights. Horns. A blinding flash.
He widened his eyes, his body suddenly cold. He turned in bed, his heart pounding hard, and only then did he notice the place around him: a simple room, smooth walls without decoration, a light curtain swaying gently with the breeze, and basic apartment furniture; bed, a small dresser, a table with a chair.
None of that was his...!
And more importantly, that wasn't any hospital as he had imagined!
Swallowing hard, he got up slowly, his bare feet touching the cold floor. The room was silent, almost too strange.
"Where... am I?"
Klein staggered as he stood up, and a new wave of pain shot through his head like a blade on fire.
"Ngh...!" He groaned, pressing his forehead with a trembling hand.
The touch made him freeze.
His hand was pale, so pale that it seemed almost translucent under the soft light coming through the curtain. The fingers were long, the skin smooth and without any of the small calluses and scars he remembered carrying since adolescence from working too much.
A shiver ran down his spine.
And then, a golden strand fell over his field of vision. Shining threads, like polished gold or golden sand, cascaded before his eyes. He blinked, confused, bringing his other hand to his head and gently pulling his hair.
It was real.
It was his...
"... What the hell...?" His voice failed, weaker than intended.
Klein ran to the small dresser, where a stained mirror rested against the wall. With each step, the feeling of strangeness only increased: his breathing was too calm, his skin too cold. And when he finally leaned in front of the reflection, he felt his legs weaken.
The image in the mirror left him stunned!
He was beautiful...
He was extremely handsome to the point of being indescribable!
His reflection showed a boy of sixteen or seventeen years... His mind went numb trying to find words to describe the impossible vision his eyes beheld; the boy seemed like someone who had stepped out of a divine painting into the real world. His beauty was so intense that it was uncomfortable to stare at for too long, something ethereal, almost inhuman. His golden hair, slightly disheveled, fell in soft waves, capturing the light as if made of pure gold threads. His eyes, of the same luminous tone, had a calm but piercing glow that made anyone feel small when holding his gaze. The fair skin, flawless, seemed to know no imperfections, as if molded by celestial hands.
The clothes he wore contrasted with the regal aura his bearing conveyed. Instead of majestic attire, he wore a modern but impeccably chosen outfit: a slim-cut white shirt, fitted to his body, with the first buttons open casually, revealing a bit of his perfect neck and collarbone, and dark slim pants, accompanied by socks meant for well-polished dress shoes, completing the image of modern sophistication.
Despite his elegant and simple clothing, there was something in him that no clothes could contain, an impossible-to-ignore magnetism. His calm countenance carried an aura of natural superiority, not arrogant, but inevitable. He seemed to belong to another plane of existence, someone who shouldn't walk among ordinary people, but who, for some reason, chose to dress simply and blend into the world.
Who was this!?
He simply didn't recognize himself.
What is happening?!!
Did some madman experiment on him while he was unconscious to save him from the hit-and-run? Or... Or, was this one of those reincarnations he had seen in various stories he read in his adolescence when he had time...?
"This... can't be me..." He whispered, stepping back.
The headache returned, even more violent, accompanied by fragmented memories that didn't seem like his, distant voices, narrow corridors, a smell of blood and iron.
The memories flooded his mind like a river bursting a dam.
Klein fell to his knees, his hand gripping the side of the dresser hard enough to leave marks. The headache seemed to want to split his skull in half, but along with it, images, sensations, and memories that didn't belong to his previous life fitted together one by one.
Were these the memories of his current identity...?
Ironically, his name remained the same, Klein.
The surname, on the other hand, was Tepes.
His current name was Klein Tepes Moretti.
And he was a Dhampir!
Someone who was born through rape; the Vampire Lord Tepes, who was the brother of the head of the royal Tepes family, had taken for himself a human descendant of Merlin, used as nothing more than a blood vessel and slave to his desires. From that forced union, he came into the world, unwanted from the first breath for being a Dhampir.
The images came quickly: the contemptuous looks, the poisonous whispers, the suffocating loneliness.
He had grown up alone, without any affection or recognition, until he met Gasper Vladi and Valerie Tepes, the only two people who could be called friends in that hell. They too had been rejected like him for being Dhampirs, and that created a deep bond between the three. The memories of that time were marked by simple but meaningful moments: timid laughter on silent nights of escape, whispered conversations to avoid attention, and the companionship born from shared pain.
However, cruel fate didn't allow them happiness for long. During an escape attempt, an accident occurred. They were discovered and hunted by several vampires, and in the midst of the pursuit, Valerie and he stayed behind to give Gasper a chance to escape.
A series of tragic events unfolded. Valerie, in an attempt to protect him, ended up being mortally wounded. She died in his arms, confessing her feelings in her last moments of life and asking him to survive at all costs.
Overcome by pain, survival instinct, and his dear friend's last wish, he committed a thoughtless act: to heal his wounds and continue fighting, he ended up sucking Valerie's blood, even while desperately apologizing. However, something abnormal happened in that process. Inexplicably, he not only absorbed her blood but also took her very soul and, with it, acquired the Longinus that belonged to her, Sephiroth Graal, which had been used to help Gasper escape earlier...
This fact left him completely broken. Not only had he lost his most precious friend, but he had also been responsible for devouring her entirely, taking for himself what should have been hers alone.
After that event, consumed by fury and despair, he lost control. His memory was fragmented, but he knew he had massacred all the vampires pursuing them that night, guided only by hatred and the pain of loss.
After fleeing that place, he ended up reuniting with Gasper.
The two spent days on the run, wandering aimlessly, not knowing what they would do from then on.
However, luck was not on their side. Along the way, they crossed paths with vampire hunters.
They were pursued like animals for days, deprived of rest, food, consumed by constant fear and hunger that eroded their strength. Hope faded slowly, until only the bitter certainty remained that the end was near.
Even so, his predecessor resisted. He fought to the limit of his existence, spilling enemy blood and carving a path through despair. He managed to take down hundreds of hunters, but in the end, the price was too high. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, his body trembled, exhausted and cold, about to succumb to death. By his side, Gasper, who had been protected until the end by him, also fell, defeated and wounded, unable to go on.
He had failed to protect his friend.
The last image etched in his mind before losing consciousness was of hair red as blood. Rias Gremory.
The blurred vision of her extending her hand shone in his memory, accompanied by the comforting warmth of her magic and the unique sound of chess pieces being activated. She didn't let them die. She brought them back to life as reincarnated demons, her personal servants.
However, even receiving a second chance, the original 'Klein' couldn't free himself from the weight of his guilts. He carried within him the painful memory of having sucked the life from the girl who loved him and of not having been able to protect Gasper in the past. Besides the horrible past he had, he became a somewhat distant person, uncommunicative, distrustful of the other group members. The only exception was Gasper himself, to whom he still clung as his only true bond. But even so, he maintained a friendly and polite relationship with all members, including his supposed 'master', to whom he owed the favor of saving Gasper's life and his own.
It didn't take long for him to get used to the life of a reincarnated slave of Rias.
.... While everyone went on with their lives, he sank deeper and deeper into his own darkness. Loneliness, remorse, the weight of having been responsible for Valerie's death and the failure to protect Gasper mixed in his mind.
Some time later, Rias moved to Japan, taking all her servants with her, including him.
Gasper, however, ended up being confined.
Why?
Well, he had been born as a dhampir, the fruit of Vampire Lord Vladi and a human mother. But that mother never lived to raise him; she died right after Gasper's birth, who was born as a mass of darkness that accidentally cursed his mother and several servants to death. Between the absolute terror his true form awakened in his superiors and the uncontrollable instability of his Sacred Gear, the [Forbidden Balor View], Gasper was rejected by everyone around him.
That, in fact, was the "reason."
To contain his power, they sealed him in a room on the first floor of the Occult Research Club. He had permission to go out at night, but the agoraphobia he developed over so much trauma prevented him from taking a step beyond that room. But by his own choice, he ended up remaining isolated behind the barriers that protected him or, at least, that he believed protected him.
And, in a way, that was selfishness.
Because it left behind the original Klein, the only one who had been by his side all that time; it was as if he had cut all the ties they both had.
Ironic that the most vivid memories besides his friend dying in his arms were the days he would visit Gasper, but his friend didn't even want to see him. Gasper's silence inside that room weighed more than any battle they had ever faced together. Every night he waited for a visit that never came, every moment Gasper remained trapped in his own agoraphobia, fed the feeling of abandonment.
And abandonment was a blow too hard for Klein, who already carried several deep traumas. His only friend had hidden away, and he was left alone. Gradually, he sank into depression, until he reached the point where hope dissolved completely.
.... Besides Gasper, who else did he have in this world? No one...
The night before, Klein made his decision: he would commit suicide.
And it was at that instant, in the silence between life and death, that "he" took over the body.
These were the memories of his current identity!
Klein gasped, leaning against the mirror, his breathing irregular. His head still throbbed, but now it wasn't just pain: it was memory, identity, something he couldn't deny.
He wasn't just the Klein who had quit an abusive job in his old life.
He was Klein Tepes Moretti, Dhampir, reborn as Rias Gremory's Bishop.
The images, the pains, the memories that weren't his still echoed in his mind like distant thunder. Gradually, the whirlwind of foreign memories calmed, leaving only an uncomfortable silence, as if the room itself was waiting for his reaction.
He blinked, dazed.
"No... it can't be..." He murmured, his voice failing.
The golden reflection in his eyes returned the truth he didn't want to accept. He had been reborn. Not just anywhere, but in a world he knew all too well; High School DxD. A story he had read years ago. A novel full of demons, angels, gods, dragons, and monsters capable of destroying worlds.
And he was in the middle of it.
"I was reborn... in DxD...?" The phrase came out almost like a nervous laugh, but it faded immediately when the memory of Valerie surfaced, too vivid.
But it wasn't the same DxD he knew. It wasn't the original novel's version. Valerie wasn't alive; in this 'alternate world', she had died in his arms, and he had stolen everything from her... even her Sacred Gear.
The shock made his legs give way, and he fell on his butt on the cold floor.
"You've got to be kidding me..." He brought his hands to his face, laughing without humor: "Of all possible places, I had to end up right here?!"
His heart beat fast, a mix of panic and disbelief. He remembered every arc, every absurd enemy this world hid: Kokabiel, Loki, Cao Cao, Trihexa... and he was stuck as a simple bishop of Rias Gremory.
A slave.
The meaning of that word fell like a stone in his chest. All the courage he had gathered to free himself from his miserable job... everything he did to finally conquer his freedom, now was nothing but a cruel joke.
"I wanted freedom... and I was reborn as a damn demon slave..." He murmured, with a mix of anger and impotence: "This is a cosmic joke, it has to be...."
He clenched his fists, trembling.
Huh?
A bitter feeling arose in his heart.
He cared little about this current identity. To him, that "Klein Tepes Moretti" was an idiot. A cowardly teenager who decided to kill himself because he couldn't bear the loneliness, because he willingly accepted the slave collar and never questioned anything.
"Idiot..." He spat the words, grinding his teeth: "Killing yourself for that?! Accepting being a slave as if it were destiny? How pathetic...!"
He rubbed his face, trying to push away the frustration. His mind spun.
If there was one thing the original Klein didn't have, it was willpower. But he, the Klein who was reborn in his place, did. He wouldn't accept this miserable fate of bowing his head forever.
Even if this world was cruel.
Even if it was full of enemies beyond his comprehension.
He wanted freedom.
And if this world wanted to chain him again, he would tear off his chains with his own hands.
His breathing calmed, but his golden eyes now reflected a different gleam. Klein let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders relaxing forcefully. His mind was still a mess, but little by little, the whirlwind of foreign memories fitted into his own stream of consciousness.
He stood up slowly, his legs trembling, and sat back on the bed. The mattress sank under his weight, the light creak echoing through the silent room.
When he rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over his face.
He reviewed the memories from yesterday and discovered that he was almost at the beginning of the "plot" of the original novel. Rias had sent Akeno and Koneko to keep an eye on Issei Hyoudou, who yesterday was approached by a fallen angel. His 'master' asked him to follow Issei, but he refused and said he wasn't feeling well and came home under her worried gaze and that of his peers.
"This apartment..." He murmured thinking about it, remembering how he got his home...
Maybe, he could use this to achieve his freedom...?
Yes, he remembered. This place wasn't by chance.
The simple room, the clean but cheap furniture, the dresser with the mirror... everything was the result of a contract. A rich young woman, obsessed with vampires, had been his client. Her wish? To be bitten by one and have her blood sucked. In exchange for that morbid whim, she gave him this apartment as payment.
Demons had this strange ability to fulfill people's wishes in exchange for closing a "contract" with them; it was a way to "rise" in status. Such contracts would accumulate points until they had enough to be promoted, from Low-Class Demons to High-Class Demons capable of having a title and their own nobility, but this method was a tradition, and few achieved real freedom through this path.
Anyway, in demonic society, slaves like him would always be looked down upon by Pure-Blood Demons, and they would always hinder his promotion. So, achieving his freedom through this was impossible....
Could he remove his Evil Bishop Piece?
... Unlikely.
All he knows is that Evil Pieces are a set of fifteen chess pieces given to High-Class Demons to increase their population by reincarnating other beings into Demons.
He had no idea how the mechanics of these Evil Pieces worked properly, and before knowing everything he could about it, he couldn't take such a risk.
In the same line of reasoning, another thing that came to his mind regarding Evil Pieces.
His potential.
In terms of potential, he should be worth six to eight Pawn pieces according to what Rias told him...
The number of pieces that may be needed to reincarnate someone into a Demon depends a lot on the person's potential. If the person in question has a latent potential greater than average, in those cases, it will be necessary to use several pieces to reincarnate the person successfully. According to Rias, different types of pieces cannot be used on the same person (for example, a knight and a pawn on the same person) and it is also not possible to recover used pieces, so it is common sense that Demons should use their Evil Pieces carefully and wisely.
A normal Bishop is worth three pawns, and in terms of characteristics, they gain enhanced demonic power and magical abilities that they can use to cast a multitude of spells. However, more powerful spells consume most of their demonic and magical powers, which takes a long time to recover, forcing them to use their power carefully or risk becoming vulnerable to physical attacks....
But he had been reincarnated with a Mutant Bishop Piece.
'Mutant Pieces' are evil pieces that have undergone a mutation due to the Demonic Power of the person who had them, as the name suggests. If reviving a person requires more than one piece, then using a Mutation Piece would be enough to reincarnate that person instead of having to use several pieces.
Mutation Pieces can be a Queen, Rook, Knight, Bishop, or Pawn.
They are said to be very rare, and only one in ten Demons possesses the Piece, and Rias possessed a Mutant Bishop....
The 'Mutant Bishop' that had been used to reincarnate him into a Demon originally belonged to Gasper, if this world followed the original story, but in this alternate reality, only a normal Bishop was needed to reincarnate Gasper, who didn't have as much potential.... Unlike him, who possessed an unexplored Longinus due to the guilt his predecessor felt toward Valerie.
Klein let out a heavy sigh, the air escaping his lungs as if carrying all the weight of the situation.
With each emerging memory, each detail he pieced together from this body's past, his irritation only grew.
"Tsk... what a mess..." He growled softly, running his hand through his golden hair.
His predecessor had received a second chance at life. Power, opportunities, even a unique Longinus in his hands. But what did he do? Nothing. He buried himself in banal contracts, closed himself in his own pain, and let time slip through his fingers like a child unable to fight against his own fate.
Klein laughed without humor.
"... Life really is unfair. If I had been reborn when I was just a child, I would have trained and worked hard enough to get stronger and none of that involving Valerie and Gasper would have happened... If I had been reborn after reincarnating as a Demon, I would also have had time to train and plan better how to achieve my freedom... But now it's late, I have little time..."
The irritation burned in his chest like embers. It wasn't just anger at the previous Klein; it was anger at fate itself. Once again, he had been thrown into a situation of servitude, as if life made a point of reminding him that no matter how much he sought freedom, he would always have a collar around his neck...
The reason he thought he had little time was that his Longinus was the target of a certain delusional Demon who wanted to use it to revive an army of Evil Dragons....
And that would happen in about a year from now, since he remembers that Issei was a Demon for a little less than a year when the attack happened...
In other words, even if he freed himself from his slavery as a reincarnated Demon, he was destined to be used as a toy in the hands of others due to his power.
In short...
It all came down to strength!
He needed to get stronger at all costs!
Klein raised his hands before his eyes.
Pale, cold, and too refined to belong to someone who once carried heavy boxes, cleaned floors, lived with calluses and fatigue. Now, they were the hands of a being that shouldn't exist among humans.
He clenched them into fists, so tight that his knuckles cracked.
These same hands had torn the life from Valerie, consuming her entirely until nothing remained but memory and guilt. These same hands had failed to protect Gasper, allowing the only true bond in his life to leave him alone, isolated in a self-imposed prison.
But now... now these hands would be different.
Not hands of a victim.
Not hands of a slave.
Not hands of an idiot who bows his head to a cruel fate.
"... To be free..." The voice came out low, laced with venom and determination.
Klein closed his eyes for a moment. Remembering his past life...
Endless jobs, days dragging in silence, the constant humiliation of living under rules he didn't choose. Bosses who treated him like disposable trash. Colleagues who looked at him as if he were invisible. Friends who never came when he needed them. Family? He laughed bitterly; he never had one worth having...
He had lived like a puppet, waking and sleeping in a miserable cycle, serving the whims of others without ever being able to choose for himself. When he dared to dream of change, life came and crushed him, reminding him that he was nothing but a disposable pawn on a board he didn't understand.
That's why the idea of freedom never left his head.
It wasn't a whim.
It wasn't a beautiful philosophy.
It was survival.
Without freedom, he was nothing but a chained dog, waiting for orders and kicked when he was no longer useful.
"I just wanted... to live for myself." He murmured, almost like a confession.
That was it. To live without needing to bow his head. To live without feeling that every choice was made by someone else. To live without needing to fear that someone could take everything from him at any moment.
And now, ironically, he had been reborn in this world only to be thrown back into the same place: a piece in someone else's hands. A bishop. A slave.
His teeth clenched so hard it hurt.
"Never again..." He whispered, hatred and pain mixed in his voice: "Never again will I bow my head...."
Klein smiled calmly, his golden eyes shining with determination and coldness.
"I will be free...." He declared, each word laden like an oath: "Even if I have to drown this entire world in blood...."
But first....
Looking at the clock on the wall, a sigh escaped his lips.
It was time to go to school.
__________________
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