For the first time, Cyrus truly understood the exasperated, half-dead look Yuno often gave him when he did something questionable. Now, he wore that same expression as he stared at the bizarre scene before him.
Licht was standing casually on a flying carpet–one adorned with vibrant, symmetrical patterns along the edges and chaotic, asymmetrical designs sprawled across the center. The carpet was floating three stories high, swaying gently in the night breeze as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Cyrus blinked twice, his brain struggling to process the sight. He had thought that getting knocked out by a ridiculous book was the peak of his absurd experiences. But no–this bastard, Licht, had outdone himself once again. Not content with tormenting him in dreams, here he was, floating on a magic carpet in what seemed like reality.
The General pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling an incoming headache. "This can't be real..." He muttered to himself.
