“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?”
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?
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.
The first thing I saw was a system window.
What the hell?
That shouldn’t be possible, but there it was, hovering in my vision. Something was off, though. I should’ve been screaming my head off, but there was no pain. Just a sharp, metallic tang flooding my mouth, like a handful of copper pennies melting on my tongue.
Pandomonium’s expression shifted, the placid calm draining away to reveal cold irritation beneath. My hands shot up to my throat, clawing at nothing while something invisible squeezed my neck.
A lump of anxiety rose in my throat.
Is this all your doing, House Lizard? Did you manipulate Reyes too?
House Lizard shook his head.
“No,” he said, his voice disturbingly calm. “I bear you no ill will. There’s no reason to be afraid. I exist solely to assist you.”
Pandomonium acted like I hadn’t said a word. Without a glance back, he turned and strode straight toward the Main Building.
I lunged after him, grabbing his arm with both hands. “Wait! Hold on—stop!”
My feet scraped uselessly against the ground as he kept walking, dragging me along like I weighed nothing. Trying to stop him was like trying to anchor a moving car—five solid meters of pure, undignified resistance.
“Callister...”
I started to ask if he was okay, but then I actually looked at him.
“...Why the hell are you naked?”
“My clothes fell off while I was crawling.”
I blinked. Behind him, his clothes were laying on the floor strangely. The tunic and pants were still holding their shape perfectly, like their wearer had just… deflated and oozed away.
Talk about OP game mechanics. How were you supposed to counter something this broken?
No wait. I’m playing for Team Order now.
Obviously the Church of Order would have god-tier defensive abilities. The real insanity was that someone had dared attack the Cathedral before the starry sky even opened.
Once a sanctuary is activated, and the Cathedral bell rings, its sound sanctifies everything within earshot. But there’s a catch—the protection only lasts as long as the bell keeps tolling. At most, a few dozen seconds.
My hand flew to my mouth a moment too late. Warm vomit oozed between my fingers, trailing down my wrist in viscous rivulets.
I carefully set the poker down, letting the metal softly clink against the ground. Then I raised my hands, palms forward, making sure they were clearly visible.