In the heart of the cavern, as Midas stood beneath the oppressive gaze of the Behemoth, he held on firm, challenging the very essence of the situation.
His gut was telling him he was close to touching the truth, so he kept pushing forward without care. But everyone behind Midas looked at him like he was a madman.
Did he just proposition the Behemoth?
Did he just—? You know what? Never mind. It's over.
Expecting the Behemoth to merely swipe its massive arms, turning Midas to bloody mist before turning to them, the Chosen aimed their weapons and readied themselves to swoop in at any moment. But Midas held his arm up signalling them not to move.
What was he thinking? Did he want to die so badly?
