“…Servants?”
My thoughts froze for a moment. Callister had said it so casually, like it was nothing.
“Well then, shall we get going?” he said, already moving on.
“Hold on... are you saying you’re my servant?” The question sounded ridiculous even as I said it.
This arm Callister gave me... he once said we were connected. That he could feel what it felt. He wasn’t wrong. I tested it by tracing shapes on my palm, and he recognized them instantly.
What fresh hell is this?
No seriously, what in the name of sanity is happening?
A voice. From the crack. Had... had it just spoken?
The sheer absurdity of it short-circuited any normal reaction. Fear? Disgust? They simply weren’t there, overridden by a profound sense of the unreal.
Good thing Tartar Sauce wasn’t here right now. If he was, he’d be watching the entire psychological meltdown happening behind my stiff expression.
“I understand.” Athanas’s arms fell away from me, the warmth of his embrace vanishing. The light in his eyes dimmed… yeah, no doubt about it, he looked disappointed.
“He chooses to forget?”
But external mental interference should be impossible.
Even with the Saint’s relentless probing, he couldn’t find a single crack in Fabio’s mental defenses.
It must be coming from within... or maybe another Watched One is causing this.
So, I’m the one who’s still unsure about our ‘relationship’? Is that what you’re getting at?
Geez, this is ridiculous. Just a few days ago, I was loudly proclaiming to Adna and Ter, “Homosexuality? Me? Absolutely not, couldn’t be me!” And now, all of a sudden, I’m supposed to be Athanas’s fated lover?
Eventually, I had to prove to Adna I could handle eating by myself, even going as far as scraping the bowl clean right in front of her.
“But... if there’s a victim, doesn’t that mean someone must be the perpetrator? Whoever committed the crime surely bears the heavier sin. So why weren’t they punished?”
…What the hell?
These memories belong to someone who died. How could they possibly break through Oblivion?
And more importantly... why was Oblivion used on her at all?
Adna, of all people, had the audacity to say that?
If anyone deserves a lifetime achievement award in emotional cluelessness, it’s her. She’d sweep the Emotional Ignorance Olympics without breaking a sweat.
The dense wall of text vanished, leaving only a hazy afterimage that clouded my thoughts. I struggled to process what had just happened.
Ultimate HappyHappy?
Why? How? How the hell did Happy God manage to—?
Adna had already smashed my door down with an axe once before, so the second the knocking started again, I rushed to open it. Better that than hearing it turn into splintering wood.