Hinda kept silent, only feeling as if she had crashed once more into a transparent wall, her head smashed and bleeding.
Bologue blinked; the cold, rigid mask of his face softened again. He ended his exchange with Aimou and slipped free from that vacant trance.
"All right, Aimou, it's your turn."
Bologue spoke as he reached out a hand toward Medi.
Medi's eyes widened. At this moment, in his gaze Bologue had already twisted into some loathsome thing beyond imagination. Bologue's palm began to tremble, splitting off a blurred double-image, as if two hands overlapped—and then those hands clamped savagely around Medi's skull.
Ether invaded Medi's mind again; this time he no longer had any defense to speak of, like an open diary left for anyone to flip through.
"No, no…"
Medi's former mocking expression had utterly vanished; in his heart only an absolute terror of the unknown remained.
