There seemed to be a storm brewing beneath Antonio's calm face. He looked at Azathoth, and there seemed to be ice buried in his dark eyes.
For a moment, he remembered the string of reports from Ulysses Valen when he escaped from the bar today, even reaching him and Sabrina... But after a split second of deliberation, Antonio decided not to bring it up. Regardless of whether the other party knew about it or not, if he spoke it out loud, the originally friendly favor would become a hidden threat, undoubtedly making communication even more difficult.
"What do you want?" the human asked, ready to bargain.
**
Around six in the evening, Williams and Yuri returned home with Erica. Antonio hadn't left yet, but their conversation had come to a temporary halt. To his surprise, the young man who claimed to be 'Azathoth' was surprisingly easy to talk to.
His request was not easy to fulfill, but it was much simpler than Antonio had expected.
I wonder if Igor had any credit for this? He glanced at the gray-haired young man, not too discreetly. This time, the young man caught his gaze and tilted his head to invite him, "Since it's already this late, why don't you stay for dinner?"
Antonio was stunned for a moment: "Is there dinner?"
During their previous conversation, the large apartment was completely silent, with no other sounds except the chirping of insects and birds outside the window. If it weren't for the black-haired, red-eyed boy who popped his head out from the open balcony to greet Azathoth and ask a few questions, Antonio would have thought that no one else was there except them.
The kitchen was open plan. He glanced in that direction when he walked in. It was also empty. There were no ingredients displayed outside and no smell of home, as if no one had used it for a long time.
Williams's obsessive-compulsive disorder... What he didn't know was that other people in the room had also complained about it.
In short, the people here seemed to be out of touch with the real world, so the option of staying for dinner naturally did not appear in Antonio's mind.
"Unfortunately, Williams is out for something today, and Azathoth and I don't have time to cook." Igor walked to the refrigerator, opened the door of the freezer and took a look. "I'm afraid we can only order takeout."
This answer was surprisingly down-to-earth. And Williams is fine, but how come you and this... God's Agent can also cook?
Antonio couldn't help but twitch his lips, unsure what expression to put on. The little Omega girl who had been sitting quietly doing her homework that night put down her pen and looked up at him curiously, her green eyes sparkling. Antonio felt like a caged beast.
A boy with black hair and red eyes had already emerged from the balcony, his mobile phone in hand, the air of a grown-up, asking everyone what they wanted for dinner. It looked like they were ordering takeout, and it was unclear whose money they were paying for. Behind him followed another little girl with gray hair, dark skin, and an old red heart-shaped hairpin. Her features bore a resemblance to Igor's. As she walked, she turned her head and stared at Antonio, like an immature animal spotting an intruder. Antonio knew this child. Wendy, and the Sullivan family were both remarkable and equally worrying.
Ulysses Valen, the innocent victim of Arthur's misfortune while repairing the zoo's sewers... Ulysses Valen, once rumored to be a rising star in the medical field, later became a lunatic many shunned. He recently faced off against the elite of the Red Line Legion, reportedly displaying raw but still talented combat skills and terrifying self-healing abilities. Previous reports suggest he still can't feel pain, whether it's a congenital condition or a sequelae of his uncontrolled superpowers. He's been looking listless, as if he's been forced to work without a good night's sleep for ten days or half a month. He and Williams were discussing something in low voices.
Williams, a 'person' who had never existed before, seemingly appearing out of thin air. He was effortless, polite, and tolerant, his manners and interactions were mature, suggesting he had received a good education. Yet, no one knew him, just as no one knew Azathoth or Hugo.
As for Azathoth...
Antonio turned his eyes away as he tried to avoid him as he passed by, feeling that there was some kind of terrifying shadow wrapped around him. Only when he looked closely could he feel the chaotic and crazy gaze, as if an ugly monster from the abyss was coveting the outside world in the darkness. At this moment, Antonio was actually very grateful that the other party had been wearing a cloak and not walking on the street.
Otherwise, how many people would cry and worship him even at the cost of losing their minds, and how many people would become mentally confused due to pollution and eventually die in pain, fear and delirium?
Where's Igor? Is he conscious? Is he still alive?
Antonio suddenly lost the courage to investigate further.
His weakness was not revealed in his words. Hiding himself had become an instinct: "No need for dinner..."
"Really?" the little boy, holding his mobile device but never looking at the screen, making people wonder how he was operating it, asked with his face tilted upwards. "Wouldn't you like some takoyaki? I ordered a lot."
“…”
As soon as Hugo finished speaking, Antonio felt a slippery black thing flash by in the corner, like a cat hiding and afraid to see people, but he knew it was definitely not a cat.
At this moment, the Minister was horrified.
A crack appeared on his previously stable expression, and he had to raise his hand to cover his mouth to hide it: "No, thank you... Excuse me, I'll take my leave first..."
The security door opened and was forced to slam shut with a loud bang.
Hugo looked innocent: "What's wrong with the octopus balls? They're delicious?"
Igor said, "You really want to see his expression change? Antonio's temper is usually not as good as it is today, and he probably really doesn't have the mood to socialize. Even when he talked to us, it seemed a bit reluctant."
"Oh," Hugo said thoughtfully, "I think it's a bit funny how he looks so serious and embarrassed but has to deal with it."
"...Then you might have something in common with the Archon." Igor glanced at the android speechlessly. "What did you order for takeout?"
"Big portion of takoyaki, sweet and sour pork, durian pizza, and pineapple purple rice."
Igor thought about it and did not comment on this complex and unique combination. At least they were brightly colored and looked pretty good. Azathoth should like it.
**
Around ten o'clock, the street lights in the apartment complex were dim and bright, emitting a bright white light, which became even dimmer after the curtains were drawn.
The children have gone to bed, and the adults are still doing what adults do.
For example, staying up late.
Igor switched to a thicker quilt suitable for winter and tucked his thinner one back into the closet. As he sorted, he watched the tiny tentacles jutting out from odd corners of the closet door to help him straighten the quilt. Without turning back, he whispered, "Did you agree to this, Antonio, because of me? Will it be difficult?"
Of course he believed in Azathoth's ability... but sometimes, how should I put it, humans always can't help but have some unnecessary worries, and this is especially prominent among those with a sense of responsibility.
And now Igor no longer thinks that such a question will cause Azathoth to misunderstand and think that his followers are doubting His strength, so he said it naturally when he thought of it.
"Well, actually, I've always felt that the Federation's sacrifice of you was a loss for them, but seeking compensation for you is necessary, so that's one of the goals." Azathoth said absentmindedly, as if he were contemplating something else. "Saving people isn't difficult, you just need to choose the right method. I know Arthur very well... I used to know him very well, and I'm prepared for what he might do. Right now, there are other issues that need to be resolved."
"What's the problem?" Igor looked at the two tentacles in the cabinet with a bit of distress. Because the owner was not paying attention, they were not properly controlled and were tangled together and could not be untied no matter how hard he struggled. The place that had just been made was messed up, and some annoyed little tentacles could be vaguely seen. He hesitated whether to reach out and take out the quilt and help untie them.
The cabinet was so full right now that he definitely couldn't get his hand in. Azathoth spoke in a low voice, a little hesitantly: "It's just... well, I've always felt that my past was insignificant, and I don't really care about it, but humans' focus has always been different from mine. If you're interested and could understand a little bit, it wouldn't be bad if I think about it... Igor? Igor?" He raised his voice slightly for the last two sentences.
"What...?" Igor snapped back to his senses. "Sorry, I, you, I meant your tentacles..."
"Oh." Azathoth realized something slowly. He untied his tentacles a little embarrassedly, carefully spread the quilt, and then closed the cabinet door from the inside, making those stupid tentacles disappear from the human eyes. "I didn't notice it just now."
"You mentioned... the past?" Igor actually heard what Azathoth said, but he didn't react. Now he had to concentrate hard to avoid showing any inappropriate expression. "I have always been interested, but I thought you were reluctant to talk about it."
"It's just a little complicated." Azathoth sighed, "Sometimes I don't understand it myself, and I'm too lazy to think about it."
There were too many chaotic times and fragments of memory, large and small. When he was still "He," he wandered the universe, as if walking in his own dream, a random thought, some sudden decision, interests that appeared and disappeared like lightning... He had too much, everything belonged to Him, and nothing belonged to Him. God was the creator and bystander of the world.
He has recorded every trace of the birth and disappearance of life, but has never been the protagonist of the story.
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