Brianna put the sopping wet phone back into her drenched bag.
Even after finishing the notification, she couldn't fully digest its meaning for a long moment.
"No... that's not right. It can't be just a few sentences."
Her low voice was like a paper towel in a downpour, quickly beaten and dissolved by the rain—but the Host could surely still hear her.
"Something that can shatter the boundary between illusion and reality, inject doubt, and blur the lines... It's all too vague. What does that even mean? What can it do, and what can't it do? It can't possibly turn everything into modeling clay, to be molded however one pleases, right?"
The Host laughed, his voice suddenly laced with new, sharp splinters. "Why are you asking me?"
Brianna froze.
'Shouldn't I be asking you?'
