"You've cut me off from my core…" The Will of the City of Calamity staggered, its form crumbling. Unable to stand, it collapsed to one knee, looking up at Alaric with disbelief in its eyes.
A Sefirot could indeed be split or torn apart... the Brood Hive had been fractured by the Oldest One... but in The City of Calamity's understanding, such a feat was far from simple.
"Cheer up, Caly. When it comes to granting autonomy to an avatar, no one in the myriad realms does it better than me. Even my true self struggled with this for quite a while!" Alaric said with a smile. If one were to name Nyarlathotep's defining trait, it would be His countless avatars.
And, conveniently, Alaric... this mini Nyarlathotep... had regained some forgotten techniques after recovering his memories.
Like how to make an avatar fully independent, severed from its core.
Of course, this was taxing for Alaric in his current state, and he wouldn't use it lightly. But The Will of the City of Calamity had made him angry.
Alaric approached The City of Calamity's severed will, his Nyarlathotep presence pinning it to the ground. Against the complete City, he might not have managed this... his power wasn't fully restored... but this was merely a fragment he'd carved out.
He placed a hand on the will's forehead, and a distorted, bubble-like mark appeared, locking into place like a shackle. In the next moment, The Will of the City of Calamity transformed, shrinking rapidly until it became a palm-sized cat, black with peculiar red limbs.
"Perfect!" Alaric said, satisfied, as he picked up the cat and gave it a couple of pats.
Nice texture.
Unable to resist, he patted it again.
"What have you done to me?" The Will of the City of Calamity demanded, its eyes filled with disbelief. It struggled, but as a cat in Alaric's hands, it had no leverage.
"Just sealed your power a bit. Honestly, it was a little taxing, but thankfully, there's still plenty of bubble power left," Alaric explained casually, smiling. "Instead of asking what I did, you should be wondering what I plan to do next."
The Will of the City of Calamity fell silent for a few seconds, then stopped struggling. It glared and hissed, "If you've got the guts, just kill me."
"Kill you? Why would I do that? You're a carefully prepared gift! No one ruins a gift before delivering it," Alaric said, rubbing the cat's head again. "Remember what I said earlier? What you gave Medici wasn't grace... it was more like a curse."
A sinking feeling stirred in The Will of the City of Calamity.
Alaric continued, "So I've decided to teach you what a true gift looks like."
The Will of the City of Calamity understood... Alaric intended to offer it to the War Angel Medici.
Its expression darkened, a surge of violent intent rising within. Coldly, it said, "He's not worthy!"
For the City of Calamity, a symbol of conquest and disaster, submitting to a weaker being was worse than death.
Alaric raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and said slowly, "You know, the last one to say that was the Red Priest's Uniqueness. It's Medici's now."
The Will of the City of Calamity froze.
Alaric smiled and went on, "Worthy or not isn't up to you... it's up to me. And even by your own rules, it's survival of the fittest, right? So you submit to me, and I decide your fate. Isn't that only natural?"
The Will of the City of Calamity said nothing, either conceding or too stubborn to argue.
Then Alaric's expression turned cold. "And you... a chaotic, filthy mess, used by the Oldest One and then by the Primordial One... have the nerve to think you're worthy of associating with Medici?"
The Will of the City of Calamity felt a pang of fear. It realized Alaric was serious... he genuinely despised it, believing it unworthy of the Hunter.
For the first time, the mighty Sefirot felt aggrieved. It, a coveted entity, was being scorned.
And yet… if you despise me, why give me to that Hunter?
"Probably because I'm a pragmatist," Alaric said, as if reading its thoughts. He smiled. "Even as a fragment of a Sefirot, you can still be quite useful."
While Alaric didn't want Medici to become a Calamity of Destruction, he didn't mind strengthening him within controlled limits. A small portion of a Sefirot's power was a fine choice.
Then, as if struck by a thought, Alaric added, "Now, let's see what the Oldest One's contingency really is…"
The Lemon Restaurant was growing eerie.
After Alaric left, Klein and the others stayed put as instructed. Lil' Amon tried to slip out several times, only to be restrained by Klein. Danitz, overwhelmed with nerves, nearly paced in circles until Klein's "Gehrman-style" reassurance calmed him, leaving him sulking in a chair.
This stalemate might have continued until Alaric returned or something disrupted it, prompting Klein to lead everyone out.
But a disruption did occur, and it wasn't what Klein expected. Just minutes ago, everyone in the restaurant... except a few tourists, including the waiters and Bansy natives... suddenly froze.
Klein couldn't find a better word than "shut down" To describe it. One moment, the Bansy residents were smiling or bustling about; the next, they stopped, like machines switched off, standing motionless.
Klein even saw a guest pouring wine, only to freeze mid-action, the liquid spilling across the floor.
If not for the fact that he, the tourists, and his group could still move freely, Klein might have suspected a time-stop effect.
The anomaly sparked panic among the tourists. After weighing his options, Klein chose not to leave immediately but to calm the others instead.
"Mr. Gehrman, are we really staying here?" one tourist asked, his voice trembling with fear as he glanced at the frozen natives, clearly on edge.
"The outside isn't safe," Klein said, eyeing the thick fog beyond the window. He wasn't sure what the fog might hold in this anomaly, making the restaurant the safer bet for now.
***
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