The puppet's joints creaked and twitched as it knelt before Kyle, its porcelain face cracked in several places, one glass eye missing.
Its movements were slow, each word dragged out as if the very act of speaking drained the last remnants of life from its frame.
"My… mistress… Lucia…She… sends this… message…"
It rasped, voice hollow and metallic.
Kyle placed the crystal it had given him earlier against its chest, allowing the faint mana thread to activate.
The puppet's body jerked violently before the projection began—Lucia's voice, soft yet strained, filled the air.
"Kyle… I'm sorry I can't meet you in person. I'm sorry for abandoning you, but time is short. The Chief God Arkenas has begun a plan—nine empty seats on the divine council, and he's inviting mortals and immortals alike to fight for them. The one who fulfills the conditions will ascend to godhood. If… the wrong people succeed, our world will fall."
