A shrill, mocking laugh echoed from his hand.
"Oh, you are so pathetic. You've already lost your grip on reason. You've plunged headfirst into the abyss—and you're unravelling faster than I expected, ha, let me give you a little… assistance."
If Remy was losing grip of his body before, now it was truly gone; he had no control.
"Since I'm you can't let you die now, can I?"
The dark smoke swirling around Remy thickened, solidifying into something slick and sinister.
Sharp lines took shape: a frock coat, fitted trousers, and a structured waistcoat—sculpting a grim silhouette.
A walking rod formed underneath the figure's grasp, its tip silver and shaped like a raven. Midnight-black hair lengthened, falling like a shadow.
A plague mask settled over the face, and finally, a dark top hat perched atop the head with eerie grace.
"Oh my, how exquisite it feels to taste air again," the cold voice whispered—no longer Remy's own.
"Well, since you can't even finish your revenge, we'll help you a little—just enough to keep you alive," the entity said, stepping forward.
The sharp echo of his shoes clipped against cracked stone, slicing through the thick tension and drawing every eye.
"What are you?" a soldier shouted, his voice cracking with fear.
The shadows writhed and twisted, swallowing the fading light, and suddenly—
A gun rested heavily and sure in his grasp. Its polished walnut stock felt warm and smooth beneath his fingers. The long, slender barrel of dark steel gleamed faintly, catching the last embers of daylight, edged with delicate engravings worn soft by time.
Every curve and joint whispered of careful craftsmanship—an object both beautiful and deadly.
This, too, was a double-wielded weapon.
"Kill him!" one soldier barked.
The crowd surged forward like a tidal wave, but the crack and thunder of gunfire sliced through the air, sharp and sudden as lightning splitting the sky. The scent of burning powder mingled with sweat and blood. Bullets tore through flesh and bone—cries of pain and the wet thud of bodies hitting the ground echoed all around.
He moved like smoke—vanishing and reappearing in the shadows, a ghost among the chaos. The staccato roar of his shots was punctuated by sickening snaps and screams as heads were severed, limbs torn apart by blades that flickered like shadows in his hands.
The coppery tang of blood filled the air, thick and choking.
He was truly Reaper incarnate.
Though he hadn't harmed any civilians, they instinctively recoiled, fear rippling through the crowd like a wave.
"You… you how are you, Santa Muerte?" spat one of the old women he had just saved from the soldiers.
"Haaaa… So what if I am?" Remy replied, his voice low and cold. "But where is your god now, when you're all being slaughtered like chickens? You fear what you don't understand—poisoned by the teachings of those who enslave you, then kill you at their whim. If wanting to live makes me a devil… then a devil I am."
He drifted toward the city's edge, where a barrier pulsed crimson, thick with the metallic stench of iron and blood.
Spark! Spark!
He was expelled after touching it.
"Hmmm, this might be a real problem—a blood dorm…" he muttered, eyes narrowing. Just how many infant lives had they sacrificed to build this?
"To kill children just to trap these people… ha! There truly is no bound to what they would do to keep their fleetting power. How utterly ridiculous."
Remy peeled off a glove; it melted in the air. The gun in his hand twisted and warped into a blade. With deliberate strokes, he sliced his palm, letting blood drip onto the ground.
He traced sigils in the crimson drops.
Moments later, the blood pulsed bright crimson, and the barrier tore a small opening with a sound like tearing flesh.
He sank to one knee, weak and wavering. Then, a soft, whispering sound echoed through the air as he whispered something—his voice a quiet hiss like a fading breath. In an instant, he vanished.
Moments later, he reappeared just outside his shake. Before him stretched a trail of blood, stark against the ground, leading straight to the front door.
"Ohh, no, I'm too late."