He wasn't supposed to feel pain.
And yet Charles's voice seemed to pierce through the air, slip into his ears, and burrow deep into his mind.
In an instant, the world became vivid again.
A dull ache throbbed inside Eisen's skull. His heart began to spasm inexplicably. He turned stiffly to look at Charles.
Without anyone noticing, the ticks clinging to his cheeks and skull began to wither like fungi deprived of moisture, collapsing limply one after another.
In the well, Albert and the others had completed their task and wearily lifted themselves from the water.
The ticks' fragile bodies swayed faintly, trembling under an unseen strain—then fell in great patches, revealing beneath them battered scales and the true form of the colossal serpent.
"…Charles?"
Eisen's gaze was hazy at first, then gradually cleared. The purplish-red veins along his sclera receded like vines withdrawing into shadow.
