Even that wouldn't solve the problem.
Albert didn't just want to survive.
He wanted this over.
The leech.
The ticks.
All of it.
His hand paused at his neck.
If he could temporarily awaken someone from a tick's control… then why couldn't he confront the ticks' consciousness directly?
If the chain of control was:
Mushroom → Leech → Ticks—
Then perhaps he could trace it backward.
Through the tick.
To the leech.
Albert endured the stabbing pain in his neck and focused.
The tick was right there.
A slight push of will—
And he slipped into its mind.
The interior of its consciousness appeared in abstract form: a crude corridor, simple and unadorned. Down that passageway, a red glow surged toward him like a crimson tide.
The tick—
No.
The will behind the tick—
Was trying to devour him.
Albert's nerves began to numb.
