The moment Kaguya reached for his hand, their memories synchronized instantly.
In a flash, Khan absorbed everything—her daily life, her dull routine as a student, the pointless drudgery of sitting in class, playing her role as Student Council Vice President, and passing the time in the Archery Club.
Nothing extraordinary, nothing exciting—just the tedious masquerade of a normal student life.
For her, the modern world was still something she didn't want to fully abandon. As much as she could disregard her original world, she wasn't ready to cut herself off completely.
No internet, no modern conveniences, no technology to indulge in whenever she wanted—how the hell was she supposed to live like that?
But just as she was contemplating her situation, her expression twisted unnaturally—a clear reaction to absorbing Khan's memories.
The blood, the chaos, the shifting power plays of Rome.
Her body stiffened, her breath caught, and then—
"Another me… You killed someone?"
Her wide, disbelieving eyes stared straight at him as she scrolled through the flood of memories, her frown deepening.
"As much as we love reading about ruthless, cold-hearted MCs in web novels, did we really turn into someone who treats murder like an art form?"
"I don't know," Khan said, unbothered, his tone void of any guilt or hesitation. "It just feels natural."
Kaguya sucked in a slow breath, trying to process it.
"We were never diagnosed as psychopaths or sociopaths," he continued, casually shrugging. "Not by a doctor, not by anyone. But isn't this how people in power operate? You adapt, or you get brutally eliminated."
Kaguya fell silent.
A memory resurfaced—one from their past life.
They had never killed anyone before, but they had come dangerously close. There was that one time, the details hazy, blurred like an old dream. Someone older than them had suffered at their hands, humiliated, broken—and later, that same person had reported them to their parents, screaming at their doorstep, demanding compensation for what they had done.
Yet—the details were blurry.
The more she tried to recall her past life, the more she realized how little she actually remembered.
Their family? A vague blur.
Their social circle? Barely worth recalling.
Their entire past existence? Nothing but fragmented pieces.
All that remained were random bits of knowledge, completely detached from any real emotional connection.
It was as if the universe had erased everything that didn't matter—leaving only the things that would shape them into who they were now.
"So, another me... Do you think our crossing into another world was the work of God or some other powerful being? If so, what is their purpose?" Kaguya mused, her crimson eyes gleaming with suspicion.
She didn't believe for a second that their circumstances were natural.
No, the idea that someone—or something—had fragmented their soul into ninety-nine pieces and scattered them across blank worlds seemed far more likely.
Were they an ally? Or an enemy?
"That's for us to find out," Khan replied smoothly. Then, with a sharp smirk, he added, "Since we can't track down whoever the hell reincarnated us, we should focus on grinding our strength until the beings who threw us into this mess don't matter anymore."
Kaguya nodded, completely unfazed.
After all, only narcissists like them could truly believe that they would surpass the God who scattered them across 99 worlds in 99 different bodies.
"Then what do you want me to do? Do you need my help?" Kaguya asked, tilting her head.
"Of course," Khan smirked, his expression shifting into something wicked, his grin laced with perverted intent. "I need a lot of help… to enter that space again."
Kaguya pouted, instantly understanding exactly what he meant.
Before she could respond, Khan leaned in without hesitation, capturing her lips in a deep, demanding kiss.
Their bodies rolled across the sheets, hands roaming, breath hitching. Lust burned between them—and just like that, their clothes were discarded, thrown aside like they meant nothing.
Khan pinned Kaguya beneath him, spreading her eager legs, and without a second of hesitation, he slammed his cock inside her soaked, waiting pussy.
"Aahhhn~! Khan—!" Kaguya cried out, her nails digging into his back as his thick shaft stretched her open, filling her to the hilt in one deep, brutal thrust.
He didn't ease into it. He didn't tease her.
No—he fucked her like she belonged to him, ramming his cock into her tight cunt over and over again, pounding her with relentless force, making her moan and scream his name with each savage thrust.
Her juices coated his cock, the obscene sounds of their fucking echoing through the room.
She was completely dominated, her body surrendering to his relentless pace as he claimed her entirely, pumping his seed deep inside her, over and over again.
And hopefully—with this, they'd meet another female version of themselves soon.
***
Compared to Khan and Kaguya, who indulged themselves in pleasure without a care, Nero slipped away from Rome in the dead of night.
She had claimed she would depart tomorrow, but that was nothing more than misinformation, a calculated deception born from caution. She didn't want anyone to know the truth—except for herself and the other her. Only they knew that she was leaving now.
There was no grand army marching at her side, no regal outfit that proclaimed her as an emperor.
Instead, she carried only a pair of swords, a simple cloak draped over her shoulders, and a plain dress, nothing like the opulent garments she usually adorned.
As she moved through the empty streets, she glanced up at the moonlight piercing through the darkness and let out a sigh.
The night was still long.
Who knew what awaited her in Britannia? What was happening there in her absence? And more importantly—where the hell was Crimson Moon?
What about the other True Ancestors? Those territorial bastards were usually so possessive over their lands, yet they were letting singularities run wild and Floros trample all over their world. It made no sense.
Were they really the Crimson Moon and True Ancestors she knew?
Or were they just hollow echoes, fabrications of another parallel world constructed by Alaya?
The thought gnawed at her. The entire concept of Alaya and Gaia in the Nasuverse was vague as hell, and she wasn't about to waste time trying to untangle that mess of cosmic bullshit.
If Crimson Moon was real, then why hadn't she already swatted Goetia for messing around in her domain?
Nero sighed again, shaking her head.
This was going to be a pain in the ass, but she had no choice but to push forward.
Hopefully, she could make it through whatever awaited her.
And hopefully, Khan would manage to pull something from that blank space—some new power that could turn the tide in their favor.
***
"Burrus…" Agrippina's voice carried a mix of amusement and something more sinister as she greeted the praetorian guard commander.
Burrus frowned the moment he saw her. The Empress Mother didn't usually concern herself with people like him unless she had a reason—and that reason was never good. His sharp eyes studied her warily, his instincts screaming at him to keep his guard up.
"Lady Agrippina," he greeted back, keeping his tone neutral. No matter how much he distrusted her, she was still Caesar's mother, and that meant she was owed a certain level of respect.
Khan and Nero? They had the luxury of being casual with her, mocking her even. But Burrus? He wasn't stupid enough to take that risk.
Agrippina's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Tell me, Burrus… have you ever wondered why our new Caesar and Nero are eerily similar? Their personalities, their methods, their ruthlessness—it's as if they're mirrors of each other."
Her words should have been nonsense, but they weren't. No, she had just struck at something far too accurate for his liking.
Burrus had noticed it too.
The way Khan and Nero bent the Senate to their will, the way they tamed the praetorian guards, the way they commanded absolute power—it was almost identical. Too identical.
And yet… what was her point in bringing this up?
"Yes, they are indeed similar, Lady Agrippina," he finally answered, keeping his voice measured. A response neither confirming nor denying anything, because if there was one thing Burrus knew, it was that Agrippina played dangerous games.
The Empress Mother merely chuckled, as if amused by his carefulness.
"I always wondered why they were so alike… why that man possesses all of Nero's skills, her speed, even her blood." Her voice turned quieter, more deliberate, her eyes gleaming with some twisted revelation.
"It turns out," she mused, "we are all connected far deeper than we ever imagined."
Burrus's frown deepened, but before he could press further, she dismissed him completely, brushing past him like he was nothing more than an inconvenience in her way.
And then—she laughed.
Not a pleasant laugh. Not even a mocking one.
It was the kind of laughter that belonged to the unhinged. The kind that echoed in dark corridors long after its owner had left.
Burrus exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to shudder.
He had wanted to say something. He had wanted to question her further.
But in the end? Fuck that.
He sighed, shaking his head before resuming his patrol.
Whatever madness Agrippina was playing at, it had nothing to do with him.
Why the hell should he waste his time on a crazy bitch like her?
No.
Never.
He had his own life to live.