Confused, I push deeper into the connection. That's when I see it – a haze clouding the cult leader's mind, like a thick fog obscuring his thoughts. Within this murk, I catch glimpses of clarity, quickly swallowed up by the surrounding darkness.
"He's... drugging me," the cult leader's voice whispers in my mind, fragmented and disjointed. "Can't... think clearly. Can't resist."
The realization hits me like a physical blow. The cult leader isn't willingly working with Taesung – he's trapped in a chemically induced haze, his will suppressed by whatever Taesung is injecting him with.
I try to respond, to offer some words of comfort or assistance, but the connection is fragile. It's like trying to hold a conversation underwater, the words distorted and difficult to grasp.
"I'll help you," I project, hoping the thought gets through. "Just hold on. We'll find a way to clear your mind."
