"Wake up! Wake up, I'm talking to you!"
A voice, insistent and slightly irritated, pierced through the cotton wool of unconsciousness. Someone was shaking his shoulder carelessly, roughly.
Instinct acted faster than thought.
THWACK!
His hand, like a snake, shot toward the offender a sharp, powerful blow meant to create distance while his body was already diving into a roll, evading the perceived threat.
The sensation of danger pounded in his temple; Saigo felt it in his gut, as real as the ache in his muscles.
"Ow!" a loud, offended cry sounded right by his ear, finally pulling him out of the abyss of confusion.
Saigo opened his eyes and froze like a statue, petrified in the middle of... Nothing. Absolute Nothingness. No ground under his feet, no sky above just a whitish, starless, infinite void, shimmering with a faint, unearthly light.
And in the middle of this Nothingness stood two people: him, and a girl.
Well, he was fine, but she... she was short, fragile, like a reed. Wrapped in a black yukata with a barely visible silver pattern exactly like a candy in a strict wrapper. Hair black as pitch, cut unevenly, as if hacked off with a single knife stroke. And eyes just as black, bottomless, reflecting... the void. They completed the picture of unreality, strangeness, which tickled his already taut nerves.
"Did I... die?" he asked, slowly tilting his head. His own voice sounded hoarse, alien.
The girl, rubbing her bruised arm (his blow had found its mark), made a face. "Almost," she replied simply, with a touch of annoyance.
"Almost? How?" insistence returned to him along with clarity of thought.
She just sighed, like an adult tired of stupid questions. "They're already dragging you off for resurrection. You have a strong spirit, Saigo. It just doesn't want to leave your body, clinging to physical existence like a burr."
The words "strong spirit" sparked a faint ember of pride somewhere deep inside. "And who, exactly, are you?" he asked, peering into her un-childishly serious face.
"Me? Well," she coughed for importance, straightened up to her full small height, and put on a mask of utmost solemnity. "I am Auta..."
"Goddess of Shadows?" Saigo finished for her, raising an eyebrow. His voice was full of skepticism. He still refused to believe his ears.
"Well, yes!" she confirmed, slightly offended at being interrupted.
"Prove it," he blurted out.
"Is this not enough?" she spread her arms wide, indicating the surrounding Nothingness.
Saigo nodded, stubbornness igniting in his green eyes. "Illusions haven't been canceled. And there are plenty of intoxicants in the world after some of them, you see stranger things."
"Ugh..." she shook her head, as if disappointed in his stupidity. "Oh, alright."
There was no flash, no smoke. She simply sank downward. Not fell, but sank through the non-existent floor of Nothingness. And in the same instant, from the darkness, right beneath his feet, an Eye looked at him.
It was enormous. Filling all the space below. Absolutely black, no white, no iris just an abyss sucking in his gaze.
And for the first time in his life, Saigo regretted his ability to see in the dark. Because he saw too well. He saw the infinity of that blackness, the cold, indifferent mind hidden behind it.
His knees trembled on their own not from fear of a specific danger, but from an ancient, animal reflex before something immeasurably vast and alien.
His heart didn't beat faster it, on the contrary, froze, as if hoping it would be less noticeable in stillness. His mind was paralyzed, stunned by the vision.
With immense effort, he suppressed the primal impulse to flee blindly. He stood. Just stood. And looked down into that abyss, trying to... get used to it? Comprehend it? He didn't even understand what.
The Eye blinked. Once. Slowly, with the slowness of eternity itself. And vanished. As suddenly as it appeared.
The girl popped out of the darkness beside him, as if emerging from black water, brushing invisible dust from her yukata sleeve. "So? Believe me now?"
Saigo nodded. Silently. Words simply stuck in his throat. Yes, he believed. The terror had been too real.
She approached, her black eyes studying his face. "You're brave," she said thoughtfully, as if making a discovery. "Many are afraid. They try to run away screaming, or attack in a hysterical fit. But you... just stood there. Well done." Praise from a "goddess" sounded strange.
"Why am I here?" he asked, finally finding his voice.
She came right up to him, looking up from below. "You just... interested me. After all, it's not every day that one of my followers kills a High Dragon. And fights, even if he loses, even if it's a bit clumsy... but still fights a Phoenix." A barely noticeable smile touched her lips.
"I lost," he reminded her harshly.
"Hardly surprising," she shrugged. "You're young, Saigo. And I want to talk about that. I assume you remember Katarina's proposal?"
"No!" Loud and clear, without a shadow of a doubt. Like a sword striking an anvil.
"But why?!" The girl-goddess waved her arms frantically, like a regular child denied candy. Her seriousness evaporated instantly.
"I have a conscience. And honor, for that matter," Saigo cut her off. His thoughts, however, were racing, analyzing the situation. Him? A follower? Yes, like everyone, he made offerings at altars on holidays, swore by the names of gods in moments of despair.
But it was ritual, habit, not faith. He felt as distant from the gods as a mortal in their world could be. And now he was here... face to face with one of them.
"Hehe, 'conscience and honor' from a killer?" she remarked slyly, becoming serious again.
"A job is a job," he parried, but his internal dialogue was occupied with more important questions: Why me? And what does she want?
"Answer me..." his voice grew quieter but more insistent. She leaned in again, her black eyes seeming to peer right into his soul. "What do you want to hear?"
"Why me? Why have you appeared to me?"
She shrugged her small shoulders again. "You're a member of my flock. And you are strong. Very strong. That's enough."
"There are other strong ones," he objected.
"And what makes you think I haven't spoken with them?" she parried, squinting slyly.
"Someone would have blabbed... about meetings like this."
"Phew," she exhaled, as if with relief. "Yes, you're right. We gods do not interfere in mortal affairs openly. And I'm only talking to you because you're... on the edge." Her gaze grew heavy. "Though, as always, it seems." She waved a hand. "But let's return to my question. Why? Why refuse?"
"I've already answered."
"That's not an answer! Those are just words!" childlike displeasure sounded in her voice again. "So still... no?"
"No."
"What if I..." she took a step forward, and something dangerous flickered in her eyes.
Saigo's fists clenched on their own. Goddess or not, she felt pain. He'd seen that from her reaction to the punch, and he was ready. Even here. Even before this... thing that called itself a goddess.
"Ugh," she stepped back, snorting irritably. "Where do you stubborn, aggressive rams even come from?"
Saigo caught himself thinking that he'd heard this phrase about stubborn, aggressive rams somewhere before. Very similar... from Katarina, or was he imagining it?
"Well, since you're such a stubborn ram," she concluded, folding her arms across her chest, "I won't insist right now. But you must move closer."
"Why?" he asked, wary. It sounded like an order disguised as advice.
"Soon... a very unpleasant situation is going to begin. And someone must take responsibility for resolving it." Her voice became ominously quiet.
"What? What are you talking about? What situation?" Saigo stepped toward her, but at that moment...
WHOOSH!
A strange pressure squeezed him from all sides. From above, as if breaking through the ceiling of nothingness, a blinding, cold light poured down. It struck him directly, burning away images, thoughts, this very reality.
"Time's up, Saigo..." the goddess's voice came through the growing roar, as if from a deep well. "Remember my words... And I feel... we will meet again..."
Saigo could no longer hear her. The light filled everything. It was everywhere—in his eyes, his ears, every cell. It pressed, burned from within with a cold fire, displacing his mind.
Thoughts disintegrated like sand. Only the blinding, all-consuming, deafening white remained, and then... another nothingness.