Flashes of memories, twenty-four years worth of them, flooded through their mind and cut through running numbers and various calculations.
For one long moment, Viper had difficulty grasping what just happened.
Then the fourteen year old information broker, that had spent the last six years running, and running, and hiding, that had killed when they were nine, and ripped a man's mind into tatters ten, kissed a boy eleven, a girl twelve, had seen more of the world -knew more of it- than most people would by thirteen, took control and reigned in the burgeoning panic at dying.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Viper steadied themself against the wall, the wood under their boots, the wallpaper against their touch, the crisp air of being this high on the mountain.
Well okay. They amended.
It was not the idea itself, of dying, that disturbed them. In their line of job, their way of life, they had since accepted that if they were going to die, then it was never going to be pretty -they had long since cemented, that if they were going to die, then it was going to be by their own hand if possible.
It was... they weren't quite sure, honestly.
But there had definitely been a sense of vertigo. Spiritual vertigo, maybe.
Like when riding a Viking, or a roller coaster. Like suddenly falling. Falling through one body and into another.
...Or, maybe, it was the idea of death. Just not Viper's.
That would make sense, yes.
Huffing an exhale, they straightened, just feeling their surroundings, reorienting themself to the here and now.
Though, that bit of fear of falling, they could admit was entirely Viper's.
As an Esper -the most powerful Esper, apparently? So that meant there were others?-, falling was a foreign concept.
Viper blinked. Then shook their head, bringing a hand up over their eyes under their hood.
Right, right.
If they were getting this right, and they were certain they were, then they had just received the memories of a maybe-alternate self. But also a maybe past life.
Where Viper was a fictional side character in an anime about the tenth Vongola.
Maybe. It was hard to tell. Unlike other animes with more drastically different setting, this and that world seemed to be similar at least on a surface level.
They were definitely no cursed baby, and they haven't met anyone named Checkerface, nor joined an assassination squad (an odd thought considering), but they knew of a Vongola, a Vindice, and- hmm, squinting in thought, they pulled up a mental list of some prominent figures and yeah, there's a Skull de Mort at least.
Huh.
Well.
Huh.
They decided to completely skip past the existential crisis.
And to also start moving from their stationary position, as these things should be better contemplated somewhere with at least a modicum of privacy.
"Oh. Hello."
Viper turned.
At the end of the hall was an older man, blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, bangs framing his face, and wearing an entirely charming grin.
Daniel Cavallone.
Viper was entirely taken aback by the squeal that they had to consciously choke down.
So their previous-other self was enamoured with Dino Cavallone, nice to know.
Or recall, as was the case.
They were more Viper than that other person, in that way that you're more your present self than your five year old one, but they weren't different people-
Right. They should disseminate through this somewhere they could afford to sink into their own thoughts.
Not in the halls of their mafia employer's mansion.
Viper cocked their head to the side, "Hello."
Eyes too sharp to be genuinely friendly scanned their person. They wondered why he bothered as the dark of the night would've covered anything that might've been incriminating.
Not that there was anything.
They really had just been walking back to the room given to them after a brief swing by the kitchen.
"I should go back now, then." They paused long enough to allow him to add anything.
They might even get some extra cash if he wanted an errand done.
"Right. Good night, er,... Viper."
It was the little things, like the awkwardness people had when they tripped on what title to tack on before their name, that made Viper think that interacting with their fellow humans wasn't completely impossible. That, and money.
They glided down the halls, feeling eyes on their back, not particularly intent but neither casual. The room they had been given for the night was in the west wing, an impersonal guest room with a fluffy bed.
Closing the door behind them, they let Mist Flames trickle out, filling the space around them and pressing against shapes and cracks, letting the physical world effortlessly mold it like water in a container, tracing the form of every surface and painting a highly accurate 3d layout of the room in their mind.
A movement echoed back to them, a tiny spider crawling in a corner of the room and on the carpet, a row of ants repeatedly marching over the same turn to bypass a slight concave in the wall. If they had wanted to, they could focus and outline things on a microscopic level, but that was both unnecessary and needlessly exhausting on their focus. They just needed to be aware of anything that might be serving as a surveillance technology.
They sauntered towards the vanity, slipping off their cloak with a click of the chain and draping it on the bed. They took a seat on the arm chair, pulling off their cowl.
Viper pulled up the suitcase on the ground by their feet, plopping it on the desk. Lime green eyes blinked slowly, considering.
So. Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
Mammon -they mouthed the word, finding it surprisingly palatable for a name they most likely hadn't given themself- was the Mist Arcobaleno, one of the Seven Strongest -and they would admit there was a bit of a thrill there, though they had never consciously chased after such a title because who would-, the Vongola's independent assassination squad Varia Mist Officer.
As for their past/alternate self, they hadn't actually given Viper as a character much attention, more smitten by the likes of Hibari Kyouya, Miura Haru, Belphegor, and Byakuran (something to set aside for later, this one).
The rest of the Arcobaleno other than Reborn were really more of an extra and canon wouldn't be for a few decades yet, they didn't even know what year it was supposed to be set in, only that they at least had more 'modern' conveniences than there was currently. At least a phone that didn't weight a ton.
Clicking open the belt, they rummaged inside.
As was the case, they had nothing urgent concerning them, except for that Fated Day and the other Arcobaleno. And even then, there hadn't been much shown about them as a group, other than that Representative Battle at the end in the manga.
Rather, Viper was more focused on the actual real world information this... phenomenon, brought them. World History.
Past/alternate had a bit of an obsession with it.
There was no way to know what the difference of having Dying Will Flames in this world had changed from that world in a more in depth sense, but as for general history...
Well, namely, there was an Adolf Hitler currently rallying people against communism. It was the August of 1940.
Their hand brushed the leather of their organiser.
Viper smirked. Bingo.
They retrieved a pad of paper and shoved aside the suitcase to allow space for them to write.
Viper flicked their wrist and in their hand was a too big custom coin. Snapping their fingers, the opposite faces of the coin clicked into different directions, revealing it to be a slide-open mirror.
Open. Close. Open. Close. Click. Click. Click, as they straightened the ideas revolving in their mind.
The rest of the night was spent creating a timeline of global events, listing on another page certain facts to note. Particular brands that would take off and inventions that would one day be either worth much, become a commodity, or a necessity.
A mosquito snuck into the room via the door and they frowned.
What idiot left a window open, Viper loathed bugs and insects. Specifically flying ones.
Clenching their hand (more of a gesture to help with mental command than actually anything necessary) and there was a crushed insect carcass on the ground.