Silence returned once more.
But it was not the silence of exhaustion.
It was the silence of calculation.
The blood around them began to cool slowly, as if the ground itself had grown tired of screaming and burning. The sphere of blood that had previously enclosed Ashen had completely melted away, leaving behind sticky black residue clinging to the rocks, like traces of something that was never meant to exist in the first place.
Ashen remained standing.
Same posture.
Same coldness.
Then he spoke.
"Can you—"
He paused for a fraction of a second, not searching for words, but as if selecting an exact formulation.
"Can you imprison part of my aura inside you?"
The question landed like a direct strike.
The giant monster showed no surprise.
But inside it…
Echoes exploded.
Imprison?
The immaterial?
An aura?
The voices surged suddenly—some mocking, some terrified, some excited.
"Imprison…?"
The monster said it in a multi-layered voice, as if the idea itself had awakened memories it had never intended to touch.
Its body trembled slightly, then stabilized.
The vertical eyes closed.
As if the entire being were sinking inward.
"Wait."
One word.
And for the first time, it sounded like a real request—not an order, not a threat.
The monster began to remember.
Not with its own memory…
But with the memories of others.
Interwoven images burst into the air around it, faint reflections, as if reality itself were remembering.
Priests with split skin, drawing symbols with the blood of others.
Sorcerers laughing as they sealed souls inside skulls.
Madmen screaming in dark tunnels, speaking of binding what cannot be grasped.
"Yes…"
It finally said it.
"There is."
It opened its eyes slowly.
"A spell.
Ancient.
Incomplete in most of its versions."
It stepped forward once.
No threat in the movement—only the weight of its presence.
"A spell to imprison the immaterial.
Blood.
Energy.
Even the soul can be bound.
That is how they imprisoned me inside this mass of chaos, along with hundreds of tortured souls."
The voices inside it began to argue.
Impossible!
Possible!
Dangerous!
It was tried before!
The monster suddenly raised its hand.
They fell silent.
"But it is not complete imprisonment.
It is not control."
It looked at Ashen closely.
"It is stabilization.
Binding.
As if you leave a trace of yourself… reminding chaos to bow."
The air trembled slightly.
Ashen showed no technical curiosity.
"Will it work?"
One question.
Functional.
The monster answered:
"It works… if the price is paid."
Ashen did not ask about the price yet.
He knew that everything in this world demanded a bloody cost.
But the monster did not continue immediately.
Instead…
It asked.
"Why?"
The voices inside it did not object.
The question was shared.
"Why help me?"
A direct question.
No manipulation.
No psychological probing.
Ashen did not turn to it immediately.
He looked into the void.
At the ruin.
At something no one else could see.
Then he said:
"I helped you before."
A short sentence.
The monster waited…
Ashen continued:
"I expect repayment."
Then, after a brief silence:
"And if you do not… it does not matter."
The words carried no threat.
No warning.
Not even disappointment.
They were simply the truth.
The voices inside the monster burst into laughter.
Does not matter?
It does not matter!
The monster itself let out a low, fractured laugh, as if thousands of throats were laughing in sick harmony.
"You are strange, Ashen."
It said it—not as praise, and not as insult.
"Most beings who say 'it does not matter'… are lying."
Ashen replied without looking at it:
"I do not need your help to continue."
Then he added, in a steady, cold tone—a clean stab:
"In your current state… you may not even be capable of helping me."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Not because the insult was harsh…
But because it was precise.
The giant monster did not get angry.
Did not rage.
Did not try to prove otherwise.
The voices inside it whispered:
True…
We are incomplete…
Then…
It laughed.
Louder this time.
Chaotic.
Contagious.
"Hahahahaha…"
The laughter was like a storm.
The rocks shook.
The remnants of blood scattered.
"Good.
Honest.
Cruel."
Then it spoke, its voice suddenly calmer:
"You do not need me.
And I need you… but not as a master."
It looked at Ashen steadily.
"That makes the deal clean."
The word deal settled in the air.
Ashen finally turned toward it.
"So there is a spell."
The monster nodded.
"Yes."
"And it requires a price."
"Yes."
Ashen did not ask further.
The monster continued on its own:
"And the price… is not symbolic.
Not a small amount of blood."
The voices inside it began to whisper greedily.
Blood…
More…
"We need a large amount.
Enormous."
It did not say how much.
It did not need to.
"Blood… is the best medium for the immaterial."
Ashen fell silent.
The monster tilted its head slightly.
"We can search for creatures.
Beasts.
Stray entities."
Then it added, without any restraint:
"Or… cities.
Villages."
It was not a suggestion.
It was a list of options.
The silence stretched.
Ashen showed neither rejection nor acceptance.
Only…
Silence.
The monster watched him.
"You will not ask if this is right?"
Ashen answered:
"No."
"You will not object?"
"No."
"You will not agree?"
"Not now."
The monster smiled—a wide, terrifying smile.
"Good."
Then it said, as if speaking to itself as much as to Ashen:
"An alliance without illusions.
Without trust.
Without morals."
It looked at Ashen for a long moment.
"We both know…
That we may turn on each other at any moment."
Ashen said:
"Natural."
A final silence fell.
Not the silence of hesitation.
But the silence of confirmation.
Thus…
A dirty alliance was born.
Not by promise.
Not by oath.
But by a temporary balance…
Between two predators who both knew that one might devour the other someday.