Drip… Drip… Drip.
"Stem,"
[…What?]
"Who really was coming?" he asked, a nagging feeling gnawing at him. He suspected Stem had purposely exaggerated the situation's severity, steering him here rather than confronting whoever or whatever awaited outside.
[…You will find out soon enough.]
"Why do you keep doing this?" he muttered, frustration evident in his tone. He let out an exasperated sigh. "The more you keep secrets from me, the less I trust you. The more I hate you."
A low vibration hummed from the depths of the abyssal cave.
[It's all for your own good.]
"I DECIDE THAT, OKAY?!" he roared, anger bursting forth. He despised the feeling of being a puppet—each decision already accounted for, invisible chains binding him, robbing him of his autonomy. It felt as though he was merely a pawn in some grand scheme.
