Did the Helper really become my Servant? No, that didn’t feel right.
With Pandomonium or Callister, I could sense a genuine connection. But with Trembly? Nothing. All I had was the faint trail of spit clinging to its paper body, letting me track where it was. That was it.
Seojun’s sincere proposal died a quick death, shot down by a snort from McCullan before the words had even finished leaving his mouth.
“Not a chance in hell. You want me to tangle with that crazy bastard and his knife? Forget it.”
Looking at the scene playing out in front of me, I had to admit it was completely ridiculous.
The paper crane in my hand was going absolutely nuts—thrashing around like some kind of pissed-off breakdancer, its shabby wings shaking with what I could only describe as pure, concentrated rage.
The sudden beam of light hit his eye like an act of violence. After cowering in total darkness for so long, the brightness pierced through Seojun’s closed eyelid, sending sharp pain straight to his skull.
“Fabio, don’t!”
A tiny hand shot out, snatching the purple poppy from my fingers and hurling it against the stone floor.
“You can’t just eat strange things you find on the ground!” Callister’s small face scrunched tight with worry. “You’re a god, Fabio, but a young one! You have to be careful! What if you get sick?”
The silence that followed was heavier than the cold creeping into their bones. Seojun rubbed his arms, a useless gesture against the goosebumps crawling up his skin. The chill wasn’t from the air—it was the memory of that freezer, of being locked inside with the dark pressing in.
Callister was so frustrated he burst into tears, his tiny body shaking with sobs. He looked so much like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum that I had to wonder, does the mind regress along with the body?
Seojun’s stomach plummeted. He bit down hard on his tongue, swallowing the scream rising his throat. The sharp sting was familiar; he’d bitten the same spot again, and it hurt like hell. But it worked. His fear escaped as nothing more than a quiet, choked gasp.
So, this was it. My last chance. If Pandomonium ignored even this desperate gambit...well, my next stop was Mother God’s horrifying afterlife.
You’d think I’d be panicking, but a strange sort of calm had settled over me. Death, damnation... whatever. At this point, it was out of my hands.
I was too drained to even keep my eyes open. I felt him take my hand, pressing it against his tear-soaked cheek as he nodded frantically.
“If I have to deal with this crap again, I’ll stop being a person. From now on, I’m Cynthia’s guinea pig! Bobby’s dog! No, screw that! I’m a stray dog now. A mutt with zero rights and emotional damage!"