The young exorcist stood before me, summoning his katashiro talismans, his eyes locked onto mine. Meanwhile, I had already prepared my Silveit threads, ready for the inevitable clash.
Between us, only the blizzard raged, a whiteout swirling around us, its icy fury making the young exorcist's pale clothing blend into the landscape. He smirked, almost amused.
"You've changed, child. Your face... something's different. What happened?"
The being in front of me, wearing the face of a young exorcist, was no exorcist at all. I didn't bother answering his question. Instead, I leveled my gaze and declared coldly:
"—You're a bug, aren't you?"
At my accusation, the young exorcist laughed—a chilling sound that echoed through the frozen wasteland—and nodded.
"Indeed. I am the insect."
