The young man wondered for a moment, how could finding weapons of mass destruction could relate to finding a demon's sister. He wasn't familiar with the race other than the novels he would see occasionally displayed on the street, Crim wasn't sure if they had some artifact to call them from the underground or wherever they lived.
The Child was having a hard time wiping the tears to stand up his stoic face, but every time his mind echoed the word sister, the trauma was too hard for him to keep poise.
Crim wasn't sure how to comfort the lad, as he had never experienced a way to make somebody stop crying gently, he had been too used to getting slapped around till he 'Became a man' they called it.
'Well, actually there is one person I remember…' Crim hid the thought deep into the crevices in his mind. He landed his hand on the youngling's Fraggle black hair, scratching away at his scalp as the child's sadness turned into anger.
"STOP!" The child yelled like he saw his loved one getting murdered, despite it just being a headpath.
"What happened to your stiff expression? Too tired to hold it?"
He teased. Much to the annoyance of the child. Approaching closer Crim blurted out:
"So if I get your sister back, what is my reward? I don't do things for free, so in return, you have to offer me some stuff that you deem equal to your sister. A prized artifact, perhaps a heirloom?
I will get you your sister as long as the rewards are worth it. So let us cut a deal"
Offered Crim; The young man unintentionally conjured a white paper with words transcribed on it in the process. Despite his surprise, he tried to maintain a composed demeanor, pretending as if he had intended to perform this unusual feat.
"A deal?" The child said tilting his head, while Crim observed the piece of paper in awe upon analysis he learned that his wants and requirements had been written on it in a formal style. It was the deal visualized in his mind perfectly replicated.
"What's a deal?"
The young man bewildered, rubbed his eyeballs.
"How old are you?"
Crim was taken aback, realizing he hadn't asked this question earlier. He had always heard stories about demons in novels or whenever he could access media – which was rare—how they were often depicted as semi-immortal beings, living for centuries while maintaining a youthful appearance. This concept extended to certain races from distant galaxies as well.
One prime example of this was the Higolobs, known as the wise elders who showcased their incredible longevity and experience.
"120," said the "grown" man.
'I'm f-cking younger?!? Even if he is a demon he should at least be tall, not sit at a childish height of 158cm(5'1 feet) Wait scratch that how did he never hear what a deal is? This takes living under a rock to a whole another level!'
"Okay then before I get to the point I have a few more important questions, first of all, what is this void-like place and how are you in here? Second, why will I die in a few months if I don't upgrade this essence thing, and lastly how can I get out?
Think you can answer?"
The demon nodded and extended his hand toward the young man's forehead. A sense of confusion fell over Crim, rendering them silent for a moment. Then, the young man responded, "We're here."
Crim was somewhat dazzled by the demon's answer. He couldn't resist a quip, "Never knew my forehead was big enough for two people." After saying it out loud, he realized that it had sounded better in his head.
The child, Scizon, the young demon from the academy, corrected him, "Not your forehead, your mind." He was oblivious to Crim's sarcasm, but the young man shook his head, dismissing the naivety of the demon.
"Okay, whatever your name is, what about my second question?" Crim inquired.
Scizon replied, "My name's Scizon, the most promising young demon in the academy, or at least I used to be. As for your second question, you absorbed too much demonic energy during the transformation. It's too much for your body to contain. It tried to settle in your magic cores, but they were too fragile to hold such dense energy. The density of a magic core is just a fraction of the smallest Power essence. If it breaks your Power essence, your body will be destroyed by the energy."
Crim looked overwhelmed by the information and asked, "Can I get the simplified version?"
With a nod, Scizon clarified, "The energy is too powerful for your body, and it's harming you."
Crim nodded and pressed on with his next question.
"You will in a few minutes," answered Scizon, "There's no technique to getting out since you can only be here while you sleep, though despite the affairs going on you should feel fully rested still."
"So you are telling me I will come here every time I'm asleep now?" Pondered Crim
"Pretty much, yeah." Answered Scizon.
Crim found himself increasingly frustrated. Here he was, dealing with a demon who was a century and two decades old, yet acting more childishly than a third-grader. And know he had been informed he would have to babysit him for the rest of his life, he didn't want his sleep be more worrying than reality, the thought of spending a whole 12 hours hanging out with a demon grated on him.
For Crim, one of the best aspects of sleep was the bliss of not knowing how long you were unconscious. He likened it to a fast-travel mechanism on a long journey, a welcome respite from the monotony of waiting.
"So do you accept my deal or not?"
The young man extended the piece of paper to Scizon, who looked conflicted as he wrote his signature written with a weird alphabet like he had been stuck between two ideas inside his lifeless eyes.
"I will take anything at this point."
Crim heard before the void dissapeared into white.