The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse

“Fuck, that was a close one,” Klaus groaned as he forced his eyes open. He was lying in a large room with a huge, comfortable bed. His chest was wrapped in bandages, and his vision was blurry. His eyes felt like they were the heaviest thing in the world.

The pain in his chest and inside his body hit him hard as he slowly adjusted to the light in the room.

“Klaus,” a weak voice suddenly called from beside the bed. Klaus knew turning his head would hurt, but hearing such a soft tone from Miriam, the War Goddess, he had to look. Yes, Klaus remembered every detail about everyone, no matter how small.

His brain and his skills as a Universal Enigma made it impossible for him to forget. Even if he didn’t want to remember, his mind would hold onto everything. So when he heard her weak voice, he couldn’t ignore it. There she was—Miriam, the emotionless, ruthless War Goddess, weeping like a baby.

Klaus didn’t know much about her, but like any curious guy, he had used the internet to learn a few things. From what he found out, Miriam didn’t like people.

Not at all. She hated humans. She protected them, but she despised them. Nobody knew why, but that’s just the way she was. Ever since she started her rise to power, no one had ever gotten close to her.

According to rumors, she only liked one person—the Leader of the Overlords. Some even said they were sworn sisters, but aside from her, Miriam hated everyone.

So, to see her showing emotions like this, Klaus didn’t need to be a genius to know she had broken down. Her heart and mind were clearly in chaos. The look on her face said it all and Klaus could tell she was in pain both mentally and emotionally.

“Miriam, help me sit up,” Klaus said, trying to get her attention. As expected, Miriam moved quickly, climbing onto the bed to help him. Despite the searing pain in his body, Klaus sat up with her help, though his body kept reminding him just how much it hurt.

Klaus looked around the room and immediately realized this wasn’t his. He leaned back, resting his head on the pillow behind him. Miriam, who had just helped him sit up, was about to move away when Klaus gently grabbed her hand. She tried to pull free, but she felt powerless.

You’d think someone with her strength could easily break Klaus’s grip, but at that moment, all her strength seemed to vanish, and she just kept weeping.

“You know, if people saw you like this, they’d start thinking you’ve been faking the whole emotionless, ruthless War Goddess act,” Klaus said, trying his best to lighten the mood. “Even I’m having a hard time believing it.”

But he was right—Miriam didn’t stop crying. Klaus was at a loss. He was far better at flirting with women than comforting them.

“Klaus… I’m useless,” Miriam suddenly blurted out, her quiet weeping turning into full-on sobbing. Klaus’s heart hurt for reasons he couldn’t quite understand when he heard those words.

“Stop lying to yourself,” he said softly. “Someone like you is far from useless. You’re the protector of this whole region. A useless person could never do that.”

Klaus knew why she said it. He knew she was blaming herself for not being able to save him—twice now—when he had been on death’s door. It was too much for someone who claimed to be his big sister. But…

But Klaus stopped himself from finishing that thought. There was no point in digging deeper into her pain right now. Instead, he sighed and held her hand a little tighter.

“Miriam, you’ve done more than anyone could. I wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for you. Twice, you saved me when no one else could. So don’t say you’re useless. You’re far from it. Just being here is more than enough”

Miriam’s sobbing slowed, but tears still streamed down her face. She looked at Klaus with red, swollen eyes, her lips trembling. “But I couldn’t stop it… I couldn’t stop any of it,” she whispered. “You almost died because of me. Twice. I am a failure.”

Klaus shook his head, forcing a smile through the pain in his chest. “You didn’t fail. I’m still here, aren’t I? You got me out of there.” Of course, he knew saying those words wouldn’t make much difference but he still has to say them.

“Stop crying, Miriam. If anything, we should be happy I’m still alive. Who knows when I might try dying again,” Klaus joked, hoping to lift the mood. But Miriam wasn’t in any condition to laugh.

“Klaus…” she tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Her mental state was too fragile. “I couldn’t do anything right. I couldn’t save you… I couldn’t save Big Sister. Mom was right. I’m just… I’m just a useless thing,” she choked out, and the dam of tears burst again.

Klaus held her hand tightly, feeling that he was finally getting closer to the real source of her sorrow. But he didn’t push. He just let her feel his presence, hoping she would open up in her own time.

He wouldn’t let go. Klaus knew for her to be this devastated over his near-death experience, something deeper was going on. It had to be psychological.

“Klaus, do you think I’m useless?” she asked, her voice shaky, as she looked at him with eyes he would never forget. The pain in her gaze, the need for validation, and the overwhelming self-doubt were all too clear.

‘What happened to her to make her feel like this?’ Klaus’s heart ached, not from any lustful thought but from the sheer agony he saw in her eyes. They were the eyes of someone who had doubted themselves for a long time, someone carrying an immense burden of guilt.

She looked broken, sad, and completely unsure of herself. Klaus could see it as plain as day—the need for validation, the desperate search for acceptance. There was no mistaking it. And in that moment, Klaus understood that Miriam was in deep pain, far beyond anything she had ever let anyone see.

“Miriam…” Klaus started softly, choosing his words carefully. “You’re not useless. You’re far from it. Whatever happened in the past doesn’t define you, and it doesn’t make you less of the person you are today.”

He didn’t know the full story, but he knew he had to reassure her. Miriam wasn’t just some cold, emotionless goddess. She was human, with wounds of her own. And right now, she needed someone to remind her of that.

“Klaus, I’m not a good person. I’m not a good sister. I always let down the people that mattered the most. I’m the worst,” she cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

Klaus tightened his grip on her hand and shook his head gently. “Hey, hey, stop that,” he said softly but firmly. “You are not useless. And I’m not just saying that because I clearly want to steal your heart.”

Miriam paused for a second, still crying, but something about Klaus’s words made her listen.

“No, I mean it,” he continued. “From what I’ve seen, someone who made my mom smile every day can’t be useless. I don’t care what anyone’s said or what you’ve been through, but know this—you’ll never be useless in my eyes. Far from it.”

Klaus raised her hand to make sure she was focused on him. “So stop blaming yourself and read my lips: you are not useless. You hear me?”

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Miriam stared at him through her tear-filled eyes, her breath hitching as she tried to process his words. The doubt was still there, but Klaus could see a flicker of something else—a spark of belief, or at least the hope for it.

“I… I don’t know…” she whispered, still uncertain.

“You don’t have to know right now,” Klaus said gently. “But trust me on this. You’re worth more than you think.”

With the little strength he had left, Klaus gently pulled Miriam closer, placing her head on his chest despite the pain that surged through him. His Overlord Healing was working overtime, but the ache still persisted. Even so, he didn’t care. Miriam needed this moment more than he needed relief.

“Miriam,” he whispered, “it’s okay.”

She wiped her tears, her breath still uneven. After a while, she muttered “Klaus, I want to tell you a story,”