"What is cyttorak?"
Arrietty hummed, swinging her legs from the brim of Sen Getsusa's hat.
Below, her queen interrogated the dying man.
"My eye… that's mine!!"
The man's wounds visibly mended.
Red light streamed from his withered sockets, cloaking his body in a crimson cocoon.
"cyttorak is—"
"cyttorak?"
Sen Getsusa blinked curiously, then stepped back to the girl's corpse before he could answer.
The jewel-like eye still floated there.
"You dare speak His name!"
Paralyzed below the neck, the man twisted his head, glaring sideways at Sen Getsusa and shouting, "This space is sealed by the great Crimson Lord! When He arrives, I'll get my eye and an immortal body!"
"Give it to me! I can—"
Sen Getsusa flashed a row of small white teeth: "Spare my life?"
Suddenly—
"Of course not merely spare your life."
A strange voice echoed through the corridor.
Sen Getsusa turned instantly serious, hand slipping to her waist.
The voice, neither male nor female, deep and steady, carried an alluring—aroma; yes, Sen Getsusa smelled a blend of many fruits in the sound.
She looked around.
Unnoticed, blood began to seep from the walls.
Rivulets ran down the ceiling; within seconds the shabby corridor was drenched in scarlet.
The blood slid to the floor and crept toward Sen Getsusa's feet as the lights flickered.
The one-eyed man lay in a pile of bricks, watching excitedly as crimson liquid crawled over his body. "Yes! Great Master! I summoned You! Grant me eyes and flesh! Immortality—I want to live forever!"
The deep voice hesitated.
"The offering?" it asked, as if from an immense distance.
"An offering? Yes, yes! I've presented six corpses for You, and their terrified eyeballs!"
Another silence.
"You do know who I am?"
The cocooned man writhed in ecstasy, slamming the back of his skull against the ground. "Exactly! Ah—it hurts! Yes, I know who You are!" "Great Crimson Master! cyttorak! The almighty demon!"
This time the voice answered at once, though laced with mockery.
That was no comfort to the desperate man.
"Next time you make an offering," it said, "learn the difference between demon and devil, human."
"Tricks and bargains are the devils' game." "Demons don't deal with humans."
Sen Getsusa watched the man's face with interest: first he listened patiently, then, as agony spread, he grew frantic—followed by pain, despair—and finally numbness.
He stared blankly at the corridor ceiling while blood dripped onto his face, slowly flooding nose, ears, eyes, mouth.
Seconds later a scarlet cocoon formed.
The voice addressed Sen Getsusa: "Young Planeswalker, care to bargain?"
She shot the cocoon a sidelong glance. "Didn't you just say no deals?"
"I said no deals with humans," it corrected. "Are you human? Planeswalker, want to hear my price?"
Sen ignored the creature's sophistry.
She wasn't some twentieth-century relic ready to auction herself off.
She strolled over and knelt beside the girl's corpse.
Removing her shawl, she gently draped it over the broken body.
In her ear the voice kept murmuring: "Let me see… power? No. Lifespan? Hmm… love? Or perhaps beauty?"
Sen folded her arms, half-smiling at the cocoon. "You think I lack beauty and need to trade for it?" "I'm gorgeous, got it?"
The girl gave the cocoon a petulant kick; the hard shell rang out.
Your barrier won't hold me, demon."
Sen turned to leave, bored. "Thought devils and demons might be interesting, but it's the same clichés…" "A Planeswalker short on power or lifespan?"
She paused mid-stride.
The voice had uttered one last offer: "Parents?" "Aha… I understand. You've never seen them. After your foster parents died you were alone. So why not ask me—who walks the Multiverse—to let you meet them? Even hell can't bar my way." "All you need pay is a tiny… tiny price."
Sen stood motionless, head lowered.
On her brim Arrietty paced anxiously, rappelled to the girl's shoulder, and bit her queen's earlobe, trying to wake her.
Sen only stared blankly, stroked the Little Knight's head, then turned away, face cold. "Don't joke about my parents, demon."
The voice chuckled. "Really don't want to see them?"
Sen's small shoes clicked as she walked back and lined her foot up with the lifelike eye.
She ground her heel into it. "Goodbye, Mr. Chatterbox."
Crunch! The gem-like orb shattered under her shoe.
Nearby the human-shaped red cocoon trembled as the gem broke, blooming like a withering flower. Countless silk-like red lights scattered and melted into the air.
Yet the voice returned, unangered—almost admiring. "Keen perception." "You're qualified, girl. Want my power?"
Sen blinked at the shattered eye beneath her.
Even with the energy source gone the voice echoed, and the surging blood grew thicker.
Not good.
She edged toward the exit, bantering with the unseen speaker while plucking Arrietty from her brim and shielding the faerie in her hand. "No need—I'm not suited. I'm spendthrift, vain, and super lazy…"
She was almost at the door; the barrier couldn't stop her.
But the speaker had seen through her stalling.
The barrier vanished, and colossal power descended!
"cyttorak's gift—no one refuses." "Young Planeswalker, you surpass the last Red Tank!" "Grant me endless war and ruin!"
Sen and Arrietty looked up.
The ceiling above them was no longer old yellow; it reflected a vast Universe.
Crimson ribbons drifted in loops.
Magnificent stars spun between them, meteors piercing the bands; a deep star-field of secrets and a colossal throne.
Upon it sat a being gazing down at her—cyttorak, sovereign of the Crimson Universe.
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