The young boy's vision snapped back into focus, the connection with the void creature severed as abruptly as it had formed. The dark haze that had enveloped his mind dissipated, leaving behind a deep, unsettling stillness in its wake. Ethan blinked rapidly, his breathing uneven as he adjusted to the normality of the room around him once more. His body trembled with a mixture of adrenaline and exhilaration, though his face was lit with a certain feverish glee.
"Job done, I'm guessing?" Silas' voice broke through the tense silence. He stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest, watching the boy with an air of quiet satisfaction. His tone was calm, measured, but there was a weight behind it, as if he already knew the answer before asking.
Ethan's eyes flickered toward him, still wide with the residue of excitement, and a wide grin spread across his face. "Yes!" His voice was breathless, alive with a mixture of triumph and awe. "I can't thank you enough! I'll praise the Void for giving me this gift!" There was a fervor in his words, an almost manic edge that made his body quiver as if filled with newfound energy. His faith, already deep, had been further cemented by the success of what had just transpired.
The room felt charged with a strange, dark energy, as if the remnants of the void's presence still lingered. The shadows in the corners seemed darker, and the air heavier. Silas, the one responsible for this transformation in the boy, allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction, the corners of his lips curling upward. He had seen this kind of devotion before, and he knew how dangerous and useful it could be.
With an easy grace, Silas turned toward the door, his movements slow and deliberate. "I must leave now," he said, his voice low and steady, yet filled with an unspoken authority. "There is much work to be done, and I must continue spreading the Void's teachings."
He reached for the door, pausing for a moment before turning his head slightly to glance over his shoulder at Ethan. His eyes glinted with something sharp, something calculative. "The Empire will definitely investigate this." His words were a warning, cold and direct, cutting through the boy's euphoria like a blade. "But worry not. As long as you act as you did before—innocent, unnoticed—no one will suspect a thing."
Ethan's grin faltered for a moment, but Silas's next words quickly reignited his determination. "If you need me in the future, just speak to the void creature. It will know how to contact me. But be careful, Ethan… tread lightly." There was a finality to his tone, a cold, lingering threat hidden beneath his otherwise calm demeanor.
As Silas stepped out of the house, the thick fog outside seemed to swallow him whole. The swirling mists, dense and oppressive, consumed his figure until he vanished entirely into the gloom, leaving nothing but a faint whisper of movement in the dark.
Ethan stood there, his body still, but his mind was a whirlwind of emotion—fear, awe, and most of all, the intoxicating sense of power coursing through his veins. He had done it. He had succeeded. His hands, still shaking, slowly clasped together as he dropped to his knees. The stone-cold floor beneath him felt grounding, as if it connected him more deeply to the entity he now served.
His lips moved without thought, forming words that seemed to bubble up from the darkest corners of his mind. The words were incomprehensible, a stream of murmurs and whispers in a language that had no place in the mortal realm. It wasn't the boy speaking, not really. It was something deeper, something ancient, resonating through him, as if the void itself was guiding his tongue.
The room grew colder as he prayed, and the shadows around him deepened, shifting slightly as if listening. Each murmur was filled with reverence, with praise for the gift he had been granted, for the connection he now had with the void.
Silas lay sprawled on the bed in the dimly lit room of the inn, the rough fabric of the mattress barely registering beneath him. Though his body showed no signs of physical exertion, the weight of what he had accomplished pressed heavily on his mind, like an invisible burden. Teaching someone the secrets of the Void—the raw, dangerous power that flowed from that dark realm—was always a draining process. His mind felt like it had been pulled in countless directions, stretched thin by the intricate web of manipulation he'd woven.
His eyes were fixed on the ceiling above, tracing the faint cracks in the plaster as if they might provide some kind of relief. But no relief came. He was teetering on the edge of sleep, the exhaustion dragging him down, pulling his eyelids lower and lower.
"Another success?" came a voice from the shadows, soft and sultry, cutting through the silence like a blade