The instant Ash's words concluded, the two Horrors began to move, their compliance not a matter of choice.
Their bodies lurched forward, like marionettes suspended on unseen strings—or more precisely, bound by the inexorable chains of the True Reality script.
A radiant glow intensified around them as Ash's "one sight" inexorably drew them across the gleaming stage floor.
Regardless of how defiantly Numbers 200 and 199 attempted to glare, resist, or exert control over their movements, their efforts proved utterly futile.
Observing their forced progression, the host whirled toward the cameras with unrestrained, almost frenzied delight, microphone raised triumphantly.
"Ohhh folks, look at that! Our contestants are charging straight toward the Nine Boxes of Doom! From this point there will be no refunds, no escape, and no mercy! Give them a roaring round of applause for their boundless enthusiasm!"
SNAP!
Ash snapped his fingers once.
Clap!
Clap!
Clap!
