Garcia had a nightmare.
Or not a nightmare.
He rubbed his forehead, waves of unbearable pain coming from deep within his right eye. His brain felt like it was being split in half, brain matter and blood gushing out, while his right eye stared at a scene without blinking:
A young man in a black cloak knocked on his door. A full moon hung high on the pitch-black velvet curtain, and the young man's shadow stretched long on the ground. The shadow revealed a creature with huge tentacles and tumors entangled around it. They were wriggling on the gravel ground, and the pebbles the size of fingernails were like the constantly blinking eyes of the giant creature.
The doctor suddenly woke up and pressed his palm hard on his eye socket in pain, as if this could relieve the pain a little.
Just then, he heard a knock on the door of his apartment number 183 in the Coliro district of the capital.
"Boom, boom, boom."
Rhythmic sound.
Garcia's eyes widened in horror, and he involuntarily looked towards the gap in the curtains. The night on the capital planet was quiet and peaceful. The stars twinkled in the sky, illuminating the earth with clear light.
It was a moonless night.
He breathed a sigh of relief and asked in a rough voice, "Who is it? What's the matter so late at night?"
**
Wendy sat in the basement of Joyce's old house, holding her rabbit doll, her eyes dull, as if she had suffered a major blow.
Shirley stood beside her, watching the gray-haired, dark-skinned girl in a daze. After a long moment, she said, "Your brother doesn't want to come back."
Wendy's eyes rolled stiffly, and she asked, "What did you do to him?"
"I just wanted to talk to him, but he was taken away."
"...After you sent out the army?" Wendy said sarcastically, standing up with her puppet in hand. "Do you really value him so much? Just because of a small piece of divine bone in his leg?"
Shirley's face was pale, but her eyes were bright. "You know about this, too. I told you you couldn't use that power anymore... Is it sleep or the portrait? Can you control anything where a picture appears?"
Wendy stared at her with her golden pupils. "Guess what, Shirley. I won't tell you."
"That's for your own good."
"Hypocritical," Wendy spat. "Ugly. Full of lies. Your guilt only serves to satisfy yourself. You know what is right and wrong, but you would sacrifice anyone for your own sake."
"...What do you think of my indifference?" Viscount Joyce said, "Have you seen your brother? What on earth is he with?"
"I don't know." Wendy answered simply this time. "I can't see him. He's under protection... or imprisoned, whatever you want to call it. No one can communicate with Igor by any means beyond his consent. My appearance in the portrait in Igor's dream last time has already made him alert. If you do this again, you will probably anger him."
The girl chuckled as she spoke, "What are you going to do? How can you deal with this situation when you don't even know who your opponent is?"
"You used Him... Aren't you worried about Igor? He could very well be an incarnation of the evil god, or a projection of some of His power into the universe. We even believe it's a sign that threats within the universe are gradually awakening."
Shirley stared at her intently. "That's why you're here. Even if you don't worry about the safety of others, what about Igor Sullivan? How do you think he'll be treated?" Wendy secretly pinched her palms. She remained calm and said, "I just know that nothing good will happen to my brother here."
“…”
The gray-haired girl watched the tall Alpha return empty-handed, and couldn't help but slump her shoulders in frustration, then angrily hammered the metal water pipe in front of her.
Of course, she was extremely worried about her brother's current situation.
But—as she herself had said, even though the divine bone that replaced her spine had increased her strength, Wendy still faced an insurmountable peak. The unknown being guarding Igor Sullivan was like a dragon guarding its treasure, silently shielding anyone from coveting it.
The question is, how does He view His brother?
Wendy thought absentmindedly that no matter how precious a toy is, once you lose interest in it, it will be discarded.
She rubbed the rabbit's head in her hand and placed it together with the hairpin that was previously pinned on her bangs.
**
"If possible." Garcia, the director of the Porto Alpre City Hospital who was on vacation and an old friend of Igor's, was curled up in his easy chair. He glanced at the figure in the bathroom with a hint of fear, and then whispered to Igor, "Next time you come to see me, please let me know in advance."
The warm orange light reflected on the frosted glass was undoubtedly a human figure.
But he just felt something was wrong.
Imagine one windless and moonless night when there's a knock on your door and in walks an old friend you've only met once in years, who's still wanted by the National Security Agency. You have no idea how he escaped, or how he managed to be so comfortable and even seem to be doing well while on the run.
Beside him, there followed a stranger wearing a black cloak and with an obscure face.
In response to your puzzled gaze, the stranger said nothing, but just nodded silently and perfunctorily.
Your old friend, as if not noticing your confusion, offers a fairly reasonable request: he wants you to help check his mechanical prosthesis.
During this process, a stranger in a black cloak asks you to use your bathroom. You suddenly feel his damp scent, and you can also smell a fishy smell that is different from pheromones and can only be obtained through real contact.
At that moment, Garcia thought that this man had just crawled out of the sea.
He had no idea how close he was to the truth.
Igor said, "I will. I'm sorry this visit was a bit hasty."
His expression seemed a little helpless.
Who could have imagined that Azathoth would take him on a spontaneous trip, quickly travel through a journey that would take a day and a night by boat, circle the inland sea back to the capital in just less than six hours, and then walk to Garcia's apartment in the Colillo district?
During this process, Igor didn't have time to say hello to Hugo and the others, but Azathoth said they should have already known.
"Hugo constantly monitors this city, or rather, this planet. This vigilance is etched into its chips, and it won't change even for hundreds of years," the god said. "However, most of the time it doesn't process these images seriously, merely recording and storing them. If we ignore it for a while, Hugo will realize something's wrong and proactively search for intelligence around it."
"That way, it should be the first to discover we've reached the coast. Since the network signal was blocked after the military showed up, the surveillance cameras it controls here will also be able to spot us once we've landed."
"But can't this be solved by just sending a message?"
"Well, Hugo probably won't ask for help in this area," Azathoth, who knows androids well, confirmed. "Especially if it wants to contact me, it has to go through you... I don't think it hates you, but the idea of 'asking a human' itself must be quite difficult for it."
In fact, Azathoth also has his own mobile terminal, which he occasionally takes out to play games, listen to music, read novels and comics. The apps installed in it are all very otaku-like... Recently, there are one or two R18 software that need to be mosaiced and are specifically used for reading books (the evil god said: The tentacle book is very interesting, but some of the plots are too weird. Although it is interesting, I can't get into it. After hearing this one time, Igor said:... No, this is not something you are asked to get into).
But most of the time he is the annoying guy who doesn't reply to messages.
Azathoth: I have no idea how to respond, and I forgot about it after a while.
So, out of consideration for the former lonely old god's difficulty in socializing, he gave his mobile device to Igor for safekeeping when he was not using it.
Hugo also knew about this, so he simply sent the message only to Igor.
Sure enough, not long after, Igor received a message from the android. It was an address, and below it was a message:
"I saw Shirley Joyce go over there. There are no cameras or internet access inside. If Azathoth wants to take revenge on her for interrupting his date, he can go over there and see what secrets she has."
Igor: “…”
It's terrifying to have an AI around that has the ability to violate other people's privacy at any time.
He couldn't help but cover his face. When he thought that Hugo might have seen the whole process of Azathoth's confession to him, he had an urge to stay in Garcia until the end of time and never go back.
Azathoth knew what he was thinking and comforted him, "I pressed the nearby camera at that time."
So if Hugo watched the video footage from that time, he would see huge tangled tentacles with the words "Refuse to Watch" written all over them?
Igor's mouth twitched... Seriously, even if there was no one there, what could they do in the internal swimming pool of a suite?
Originally this was just a slightly embarrassing thing, but Hugo's imagination might make the whole incident even more confusing.
He simply stopped thinking about it and, upon entering Garcia's apartment, began to discuss the issue of his mechanical leg directly.
It was nearly dawn, and Garcia knew his old friend's character well. He would never ask for help at such a rude time unless it was a special occasion. So he listened intently, but couldn't help but show surprise as he kept examining the left leg, which looked so sci-fi-inspired.
"What do you suspect is in here?"
"I don't know." Igor said, folding his slender fingers. "That's exactly what I hope you can help me figure out."
"Of course...it's not a big deal," Garcia muttered, glancing back towards the bathroom.
Igor drummed his fingers on the table.
"I hope you can leave him alone, but you can trust him completely...because we are currently in a relationship."
He spoke these words as naturally and calmly as possible, without revealing Azathoth's identity.
But the moment he finished speaking, Garcia still showed a shocked expression as if to say, "Fuck, am I still dreaming?"
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