Except for my Callister, every Holy Flesh Container unit is connected to the others.
Calling it a “connection,” though, doesn’t really do it justice. It’s less like a connection and more like a single living organism, split across thousands of bodies.
…What does that smile mean?
I almost asked. Almost. But I didn’t. Because if he said something like, “Oh, this is your third life, by the way”—yeah, no. I genuinely didn’t think I could survive hearing it.
“I could tell you. But what good would that information do you right now?”
“……”
I forced myself breathe.
House Lizard had a point. Say I learned Oblivion's true name this second, then what? What exactly was I going to do with it?
It wasn’t Athanas. It was me.
Past “me” had completely lost it. Just rambling, not even hearing the insane things coming out of his mouth.
Get used to killing me?
You said that to someone with Retrograde?
Was he out of his mind?
…Well. Yeah. Obviously.
“Of course… they’re all me.”
When I said that, House Lizard strolled over to the shelves and grabbed a book off one of them. He brought it to the desk, held it by the spine, and gave it a good shake. Pages came loose and drifted down onto the wooden surface.
For a moment, all I heard was white noise.
It wasn’t exactly shock. More like a full system crash—that specific kind of numbness when your brain realizes it can’t process the sheer scale of disaster, so it just… shuts down.
The world shifted in an instant, snapping into focus as a room tiled in sterile white.
House Lizard looked down at the white lab coat now draped over his shoulders and let out a low chuckle.
"Well, this is awkward. I may be a doctor, but not the medical kind."
To think my missing arm turned into a key scenario item... it’s actually unbelievable.
The thought was so ridiculous, I almost laughed.
Is that why the Saint kept staring at me earlier? Was he sizing me up? Trying to decide if the rest of me was worth harvesting too?
I stared at the paper crane. I hadn’t meant to give it a name, but it had apparently taken it that way.
The more pressing issue: how the hell do I cancel making this thing my Servant?
I have no idea.
Pandomonium’s gaze snapped to mine. For a moment, the world fell silent—and in his eyes, I saw my own confusion staring back at me.
“...Your system window. Did it look like a busted calculator?”
“Yeah. Glitched to hell. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Well, that was a conversational hard left. I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Nothing.
The answer? The guy standing right behind me had stabbed it. Period. End of story. And it wasn't some distortion, reality-bending situation, either.
Andrea had no idea I was a Watched One. How could he, really? Even if he suspected that Fabio had some hidden backstory, the last thing he'd expect was me walking through his door with freshly minted divine power.