Cyn felt his own voice echoing inside his head. He could hear it clearly—yet it did not leave his lips. Or perhaps it did leave them, but he had lost the ability to hear it. He could no longer distinguish which was which.
The only sound that truly reached him was that man's voice, resonating in his ears as if offering guidance and advice.
"Once you bring out your other self," the voice said calmly, "only then will you truly join us, Lord Sadist. I expect that moment to come soon. My only wish is that you make proper use of the mask—it adds a wonderful flair and serves as excellent promotion for us. So do your part. Hahaha."
Cyn was left stunned when he saw the man withdraw his hands, leaving him suspended there like a frozen sculpture. As if he were some sort of immobilized figure.
If one were to name his current posture, it would be The Fallen Princess Statue—a princess without a knight to catch her in his arms.
