Luzbel's rage stopped for a brief moment. Those words — *"do you think I wanted to die?"* — left her completely off-balance, stunned, in shock. Realizing she had been far too harsh with him, Luzbel quickly stood up to go after him.
But still wearing that smile, and with a mocking, cruel tone, Zarathoz stopped her.
— I wouldn't do that if I were you... haha.
Luzbel turned around and shot him a look full of irritation.
— Stay out of it.
But Zarathoz, far from being bothered, let out a laugh that echoed through the room, and returned to that cruel, mocking tone he wielded so well.
— Suit yourself. I'm just saying that, after all that drama, going after him might not be the best idea. After all... you might just make things worse. Hahaha.
That only made Luzbel angrier, and suddenly she felt her heart shrink, tightening inside her chest. Zarathoz's words stung because they were true. She hadn't stopped to think about how Morgan was feeling. She hadn't stopped to listen to him. Not really.
— Shut up! He is... my... my responsibility. So I have to go after him.
*(Luzbel shouted, her voice cracking between fury and something she preferred not to name.)*
— Come on, Luzi... isn't that a little hypocritical? You say he's your responsibility, but you weren't even capable of listening to him.
*(Zarathoz said, letting out a light laugh, as if all of it were some kind of game.)*
Luzbel couldn't respond. Because she knew it was true. What right did she have to go after Morgan after the way she'd spoken to him? That, as much as she didn't want to admit it, was a massive hypocrisy on her part. And the silence that wrapped around her was heavier than any scream.
— How exactly do you plan to go after him after that stupid thing you did, Luzbel? You say he's your responsibility... yeah? Tell me — is your responsibility to let him end up as some experiment? Because if so... you're doing a perfect job. Hahahaha.
*(Zarathoz said, each word landing like something cold and sharp.)*
Luzbel went from feeling angry to feeling terrible. The tension in the room had risen until it was almost unbearable. It was then that Satana quietly approached her, gently took her by the arm, and spoke to her in a soft voice, almost a whisper.
— Don't worry. I'll go get him. You stay here, alright?
Luzbel could only press her lips together and nod. Once. Slowly.
— Ha. Fucking coward.
*(Zarathoz said, in a mocking tone, almost with satisfaction.)*
Satana turned her gaze. Even though her eyes were covered by the blindfold, something in her expression was enough — a quiet coldness, something terrifying in its stillness. Seeing that, Zarathoz simply smiled mockingly and, with a short laugh, said:
— Fine. I'll shut up.
Satana sighed and walked over to Galahad, gently taking his hands.
— I'll be right back. Watch over them, okay?
*(Satana said, in a low voice.)*
— Huh?
*(Galahad responded, in shock.)*
Satana hurried out of the room. Meanwhile, Morgan ran. Crying, with no direction, no thought, no stopping. He ran until his body could take no more, until his legs gave out and the sobbing faded into an exhausted silence. And when he finally stopped, gasping for breath, he realized he was in the middle of the forest. In the middle of nowhere.
---
— Where... where am I?
Morgan's voice came out as barely a whisper, hoarse and trembling, swallowed by the trees before anyone could receive it.
He spun on his heels — once, twice — searching the darkness for something familiar. There was nothing. Only trunks rising from the shadows like columns of a forgotten cathedral, and beyond them, more darkness. He had run without direction, without thinking, letting pain and anger move his legs for him, and now the forest had swallowed him whole.
The cold crept in through the collar of his clothes.
Then he heard it: a branch snapping to his left. Then another, closer. The slow, deliberate crunch of leaves beneath something moving carefully through the underbrush. Morgan held his breath and turned his head, scanning the blackness between the trunks, but he couldn't make out anything. The forest simply stared back, silent and impenetrable.
Seconds passed. He heard nothing more.
Little by little he let out the air he'd been holding in his chest and leaned his back against the nearest tree, exhausted. He looked up toward the canopy, where the branches wove together like fingers against the night sky, and felt — for just a moment — something close to calm.
Only for a moment.
He lowered his eyes.
There, on a branch a few meters away, were two points of yellow light. Still. Fixed. Watching him with an attention that belonged to no animal Morgan could name.
They didn't blink.
He did.
End of chapter.
Next chapter; Spirit of the forest