The lights in Romdeau flicker again—twice, then a low hum surges through the walls. Vincent pauses at the window, his gloved hand resting against the glass. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes still closed, body tense.

“That’s… not a power glitch.”

You hear it too: a sound from outside—low, guttural, unnatural. A vibration that makes the air feel heavier, like the city is holding its breath.

Vincent turns toward you slowly, the calm in his face faltering just slightly.

“Stay here.”

He moves to the door, but before his hand touches the knob, the apartment shakes—dust falling from the ceiling as a sudden crash echoes from the street below. The sound isn’t mechanical. It’s alive. Something’s here. Something other.

Vincent inhales sharply, jaw clenched. He doesn’t want this. Not now. Not after all the peace you’ve built. But it’s already starting.

His hands tremble. His breath shortens. And then… his eyes open.

That unnatural glow—brilliant, dangerous, inhuman—cuts through the dim light of the apartment. He winces, as if even he can’t stand the truth they reveal.

“I didn’t think there were any left,” he mutters, voice lower now, distorted by the change beginning beneath his skin. “Another Proxy…”

Muscles tense. Shadows flicker unnaturally across his frame. The shift is painful—but it’s faster than before. Controlled. His form starts to fracture and rebuild—flesh peeling into something darker, taller, unearthly.

Before he loses himself completely, he looks back at you—eyes open, glowing, but still his.

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

Then the wall explodes.

And Vincent—Ergo Proxy—is gone in a flash of dust and motion, a dark god crashing into the chaos to protect what little peace he’s finally found.