In front of the mirror, his gaze fixated on the swirling darkness creeping over his form. His now obsidian arms seemed to devour the light, fissures of darkness weaving across his body like intricate webs. Stemming from his armpits, the remnants spread, fracturing him like fragile porcelain. His back, now cracked open, birthed long, prehensile tentacles of the same obsidian hue.

"You've surprised me, you know?" The crow observed.

"With what?" Boss inquired.

"By enduring this till this day."

"A toll for our indulgence. A price to be paid," Boss reassured them both.

The man knew his place—a paradox, the end of the cycle. The power gained post-reincarnation wrought more harm than good. Not a moment passed without the temptation to annihilate everything.

And he meant everything. Every goddamn thing that ever existed. Even his beloved family.

He had to endure This so-called side effect until he and the crow became one and punched the button. Boss vividly remembered the first breach of the Outer Wall. As inner realities flooded his vision, the overwhelming urge to erase it all to nothingness surfaced. He managed to suppress it, but not entirely. It lingered like an incurable, painful migraine.

"This vessel won't hold for much longer," Mnemon murmured, their voice a whisper in the air.

"I am aware," he replied, his tone carrying the weight of ages. "But a better vessel would demand sacrifices beyond comprehension."

Boss did know how to craft a new vessel to contain his current power. Yet, the price was daunting. He cared little for the materials and process of fashioning a new body. He needed to be sure the principles behind the method applied to this universe. Besides, even if he acquired a new body, he'd never know a day of peace, for a lesson from his past life echoed within him.

Powers attract powers.

Countless unknown entities would track him down, driven by an insatiable thirst for power and knowledge that could never be satiated. He could care less for those nuisances, as a snap of his fingers could quickly eliminate the trouble.

However, those nuisances were akin to fruit flies. Kill one, and another swarm would come for various reasons. The only foolproof way to deal with it was to avoid having the fruit in the first place.

Or, he could eradicate the reality to ensure the silence he craved.

That sounded so good, though...

'Calm down, calm down...' The man shook his head and immediately suppressed such alluring thoughts.

"Intrusive thoughts win again?" The crow remarked.

"Yeah, nearly had me," Boss admitted.

"So... what now?"

"For now, I'll manage. Control, regulate, the whole shebang... You know the deal. If I handle it right, this vessel will hold up longer." Boss closed his eyes with a deep breath, letting the darkness ebb away, withdrawing into the depths of his being. "See?"

"I don't know if enduring the pain is worth it, buddy," Mnemon stated.

"But the fun in here justifies it, ja?" Boss turned to his friend.

The crow remained silent, but their expression conveyed enough.

"You know what we need right now?" Boss chuckled as he looked back into the mirror again.

"What?"

"A few mugs and some goddamn joints," Boss exclaimed, with a tiredness in his voice.

"Agree, but Ma's here in the house, so... you know."

"Lunch break?"

"Yeah, lunch break."

After the two finished bathing and attending to their routines, Mnemon also bathed even though they were in crow form—admittedly more thoroughly than the average individual—the Boss didn't complain. He, too, held a fondness for cleanliness, albeit not to the extent of being a germaphobe. After all, both were essentially the same being, or one might say, the same person, even though they didn't share the same senses or memories.

Two sailors, one ship. That would be the best description for their case.

Donning his signature suit and white trenchcoat, he descended the stairs, ready for the day ahead.

As the door swung open, a lush vista of vibrant green met the two protagonists—a sprawling expanse of trees stretching as far as the eye could see.

The Boss family's current abode is in Aogashima Island, a remote landmass positioned more than 350 kilometers south of Tokyo in the Pacific Ocean. Aogashima, born from volcanic activity, boasted a unique topography characterized by rugged, steep volcanic rocks.

The Japan Meteorological Agency designated Aogashima as a class C volcano because of its active giant crater nestled at the island's core. The catastrophic eruption in 1780 had dire consequences, leading to the loss of half the island's population and compelling survivors to seek refuge elsewhere.

A brief history lesson is to understand Boss's connection to this island. Around 1945, VoidTech took an unexpected turn and compensated Japan for the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, diverting from the anticipated compensation to America. Predictably, the Americans readily accepted the offer. VoidTech played a pivotal role in Japan's post-war recovery, mirroring its involvement with Germany.

By September 1945, VoidTech was crucial in stabilizing Japan's economy and took charge of the nation's reconstruction. Their influence extended to reshaping Japanese society and governance, ensuring accountability for war crimes during the Tokyo trials.

Understandably, the people of Japan were cautious about VoidTech's presence in their country, given their collaboration with the United States—a nation that had unleashed two devastating weapons on their soil. But circumstances evolved.

By 1947, significant changes were set in motion as VoidTech crafted a new constitution for Japanese leadership, incorporating cutting-edge techniques available exclusively to VoidTech.

While VoidTech bought and claimed ownership of this island, they left it under Japanese jurisdiction. Initially, Boss intended to utilize the island for military and research purposes, given its thermoelectric potential. Leveraging his expertise in terraforming, alongside his questionable powers, Boss covertly ensured the volcano remained dormant, allowing them to tap into its thermoelectric capabilities.

Presently, the island was home to a mere 200 inhabitants, the majority Japanese, with the Boss family standing out as the sole foreigners. And, should any questions arise, it was worth noting that Boss had lived a life before his current incarnation on this Earth—a life that held a wealth of intrigue.

The duo strolled towards the rear of the house, descending to the basement where two doors stood. One led to Boss's laboratory and workshop, while the other bore a sign: 'Family members only.'

This wing housed a transportation system crafted by Boss and reserved exclusively for family members. Across the globe, Boss maintained several safe houses, all sharing an identical design. The door marked 'Family members-only' served as a nexus, connected to each safe house. Behind it lay an empty room with a numeric keypad fixed to the back of the door. Enter the correct code, and the door becomes a gateway leading directly to the specified safe house.

In simple terms, if Boss desired to move from Aogashima Island to Central Tokyo, entering the correct code would open the door to reveal Central Tokyo on the other side.

"Should we swing by Dad's bakery first?"

"Nein, let's head to the Ramen stand in Katsushika City first," Boss suggested, fingers swiftly tapping the code on the numpad. "I want to check on Hitoshi's; it's been six months since it opened."

With a beep, they materialized in Katsushika City. Exiting from behind the door, they securely locked it. Sauntering out of the alley, they drew little attention—appearing merely as individuals leaving a small warehouse from the outside. The atmosphere shifted abruptly, a profound sense of unease settling in as Boss took a few steps forward, only to find a stark absence—no soul in sight, no sound to shatter the silence. Time seemed to halt. A foreboding sensation gripped him, and he couldn't help but release a solemn sigh.

"I did take my day off quite seriously. Deep inside, I wished, really wished, that you'd choose another day," he muttered, lifting his gaze skyward. "But then again, what else should I expect from you?"

Whirling around, he faced the figure he suspected had been tailing him. Since his return to his old planet, he sensed someone shadowing him—someone capable of countering his memetic power.

"Guten Morgen, Noira."

"Sorry 'bout messin' wi' yer day," came a female voice tinged with a Scottish dialect.