The 0th Corps Commander Became Trash! [ TCF x INTKOT ]

Chapter 1* - Cale? It's Deon!

I had a sudden thought while looking at Deon and Cale... What if Cale reincarnated as Deon and regains his memories 24 years later where the story officially begins

This is a self indulgent fic, so it won't go according to the novel this will be a more crack fic treated seriously. (Maybe)

Deon/Cale is gonna be a bit ooc since his personality is now a mix of the both of them and has knowledge from the novel, he also knows that his brother doesn't hate him.

I hope you guys enjoy my crazy ideas 🙏🙏🙏

***

Deon was currently in his room working on paperwork that he detested with his whole soul. Of course, with Ed since he refuses to do a mountain of paperwork alone. And besides, Ed was more suited for this task than he was.

"Sir Arut this should be the- S-sir Arut?!"

Ed stammered, he looked at Deon who had his head face planted on the table.

"Ed... I'm going to sleep. don't. disturb. me."

Deon said in a low tone, reciting each word slowly in hopes that Ed would understand and let him sleep. However, his tone led to Ben misunderstanding and assuming that Deon thought that Ben was challenging his authority. Which was not true.

"Y-yes!"

Ed quickly mustered up enough courage to reply, he grabbed each document on the table and bowed dozens of times before heading out of Deon's room in a hurry.

"Haah... I want to retire."

Deon exhaustingly sighed, he wanted to run away so badly. But the security in the Demon King's castle was so tight!

Exhausted, Deon decided to lay on his bed. He thought about the resignation letter he was going to give to the Demon King.

***

"Where... Where the hell am I...?"

When he woke up, Deon was in an unfamiliar space. However, it also felt familiar somehow. The place made him feel a more relaxed and less on guard than his own house.

It was a pitch black room, as if the curtains were shut tightly not leaving a hint of opening. No color or light was shone in the room, but he could clearly see his foot and hands.

"My child, you're finally here."

A man white hair akin to his and bronze skin appeared in Deon's vision. He seemed familiar, but he wasn't able to pinpoint as to why.

"Who are- Ugh?"

Deon was about to ask who the man was, but suddenly clutched his head. He felt a splitting pain, even more painful so than the blood he coughed and the feeling of being burnt in the sun.

Memories flowed into his head, they were of a red-haired man who was similar to him. Both wanted a peaceful life, but life decided to fuck them over.

Cale Henituse was the name of the man, and that man was also Deon.

"God of fucking Death."

Deon finally cursed out the name of the God talking to him, he gave a strained smile as his hands were curled into fists. His current life raised another question, how come he couldn't catch a break in every life?

"Haha, my dear Cale you finally remember me!"

God of Death squealed at the acknowledgment of Cale. The once serious and seemingly cold God of Death was no where to be found whenever it came to his favorite human.