Kael tried to scream.
No sound came out.
He tried to breathe.
Nothing.
The first sensation wasn't pain, but emptiness. A strange emptiness, as if his body had been replaced by air and cloth. There was no heartbeat, no blood, no weight. Only darkness… and an uncomfortable pressure against his back.
Am I dead?
The memory struck like a delayed blow: the accident, the cold, the absolute certainty that he hadn't survived.
Then why could he think?
Something rough brushed against his awareness. A texture that should never be felt from the inside.
—Here it is —said a male voice, hoarse—. The puppet.
The darkness tore open.
Light burst in, and with it, a horrifying truth.
Kael had no eyelids.
He had no real eyes.
What he perceived did not come from a human body, but from an artificial, limited, twisted awareness. In front of him stood a circle of hooded figures, symbols carved into the floor, and black candles burning with a greenish flame.
—Does it really work? —asked another voice, younger, with a nervous laugh—. It looks… small.
Small.
Kael understood his situation when he saw his reflection on a metallic surface: a humanoid figure made of cloth, with an oversized head, short limbs, and visible seams. His mouth was nothing more than a stitched line. His eyes, dull buttons.
And on his back…
A hole.
—It's a low-class cursed object —explained the first voice—. Perfect for testing. If it breaks, it doesn't matter.
Object.
The word pierced his mind.
Before he could process it, something happened.
Something hot.
Something alive.
A hand entered through his back.
The sensation was indescribable. It wasn't pain, nor pleasure. It was invasion. As if his consciousness were shoved into a corner while another presence occupied a space that should never have existed.
In that instant, the world exploded into information.
Contact detected.
Synchronization initiated.
Forbidden Puppeteer System activated.
Kael didn't understand the words.
But he felt them.
Suddenly, he had muscles.
Not his own.
Borrowed muscles.
The man's arm moved… and Kael felt the motion as if it were his. The human hand lifted him, spun him around, forced him to walk clumsily across the altar.
Laughter echoed around them.
—Look at it —someone mocked—. It looks alive.
It doesn't look alive, Kael thought.
I am.
Then he felt it.
Foreign emotions leaking into his mind: arrogance, cruelty, a spark of fear buried beneath layers of malice. Disordered thoughts, fragmented memories.
Kael understood.
The hand wasn't just controlling him.
It was connected.
Ability available: Mental Thread (Level 1)
Do you wish to influence the host?
He didn't know how, or why, but a certainty rose with absolute clarity:
If he said no… this would never end.
The hooded figures began the ritual. Forbidden words. Glowing symbols. The puppet —him— was used as a catalyst for something vile. He felt the flow of dark energy pass through him, stain him.
They do this every day, he realized.
They use things.
They use people.
They use monsters.
—Push more mana —ordered the leader—. If the object breaks, we'll get another.
Something inside Kael broke.
Not the cloth.
His patience.
Yes, he thought.
He didn't say it out loud.
He decided it.
Mental Thread activated.
The host blinked.
His breathing turned uneven.
A tiny doubt, almost imperceptible, was born in his mind.
What if something goes wrong?
Kael pushed a little harder.
Fear.
Confusion.
The hand trembled.
—What's happening? —someone asked—. Why are you hesitating?
The ritual destabilized.
The energy imploded inward.
The man screamed.
Not in physical pain.
But in terror.
Kael saw through his eyes as darkness devoured him from within.
When it was over, the body collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
The hand withdrew from Kael's back.
Silence.
All eyes fixed on the puppet.
—Wh-what… what was that? —someone whispered.
Kael couldn't move on his own.
He couldn't speak.
But inside his mind, for the first time since he awakened, something felt clear.
Host eliminated.
Anchor successful.
Ability acquired.
That's right, Kael thought.
If this world was full of people like them…
Then he would be the object that destroyed them all.
And this —he knew it with icy certainty—
was only the beginning.