Death, Devotion, Dissonance

But contrary to Endra's hopefulness, Twelve was a bastion of calmness and acceptance. 

"Then let me ask you this. You see a woman hanging dead on a rope. But when you bring her down, sure, you see some of the rope marks on her neck, but you also see a fainter trail made by something much thinner than a rope. What's her cause of death?"

"Strangling?" Endra asked. 

"And how do you know that?"

Endra thought about the question, and frowned.

"I think anyone could tell that with some thought."

Endra knew he was being stubborn. And he knew what Twelve was trying to say.

"Then with some thought, you can also understand what I'm trying to say."

Endra frowned, being read so easily.

'The golem acting as Heim Morton is a spirit who spent an ungodly amount of time next to the professor… So much so that when he suddenly finds himself in the man's body, he can perfectly act as the man himself. And it's possible for them to be still sane, since I'm living proof that spirits can stay functional. Kind of.'

"But…"

"Give it up," Twelve said.

Endra wanted to retort, but he couldn't find the words.

'Am I doomed to be a voice in the boy's head forever?'

The thought sent a chill down his spine. He sighed, but it came out as almost a whimper.

'No…no, no,' he shook his head. 'It's your destiny to receive the short end of the stick,' he told himself. 'In fact, it was a mistake to get so excited about this whole thing in the first place.'

'Set your expectations to zero and you'll never get disappointed. Isn't that the only reason you managed to stay sane on Earth?' 

Most of Endra's undeath, he spent fighting against hope. He knew the emotion would be better off dead considering his situation. Unfortunately, the damn thing was persistent. No matter how many times it was smashed to pieces, it came back to gnaw at his heart as if nothing had happened.

But every time Endra decided to fall into hope, he'd be left broken or half-insane. He'd think he would learn his lesson after all that, but every time, he'd find himself grasping at that drug known as hope.

Even now, after all that Twelve said to him, it was offering solutions to his problem. 

'It's not the end of the tunnel,' something at the back of his mind was saying. 'The Empress… Yes! The Empress should be able to help!'

Endra did not care if it was possible or not. No, it should be possible, since she's a goddamn goddess and all. Since she had myriad arms, she wouldn't mind sacrificing one for Endra, right?

"Well, I suppose the only choice I have left is to go bug the Empress about it."

He said almost as a joke. But it was a possibility, so he couldn't cut the hope from his voice.

But Twelve did not affirm or deny him, and instead asked a question.

"Hmm, in the vision," Twelve said, pondering. "After she said that no one can listen to whatever she's about to say… did you catch what she said?" 

Endra guessed she was talking about the moment when the Empress's voice distorted. 

'The Empress seemed to glance at me for a moment there… does that mean she could choose to reveal the information if she wanted to? But she didn't, so what does that mean?'

"No, I didn't. It was unintelligible to me."

'Why? Is it important?'

Twelve fell into thought at the remark.

"Are you trying to say that she knew what we were doing here?" Endra asked, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he was feeling.

"Mm…" she nodded. "But since she didn't allow you to hear, I don't think she'll accept your request…"

"Why?"

Twelve only shrugged. 

'Of course, she doesn't need to answer every little question. And usually, I'm not someone who's this talkative either… Am I acting like this because she's the first person who I've talked to besides Evin? No, I talked to Bella and Edmund before… Argh, my mind's all over the place.'

"But you have another choice on your hands," she continued slowly.

Endra's ears perked up again.

"Another choice?"

"Yes. Moreover, it's only available to you in the World of Souls."

Twelve smiled sadly after the remark, and pulled out a knife. Its edge held the same eerie feel as the Empress's sickle. She offered the knife to him.

"…"

'Ah…'

"Kill the boy's soul and take over his body. And, this is the only chance you have. Outside the World of Souls, there's no chance of you overpowering the boy."

Twelve's words were enticing. Taunting, even, but her tone was filled with reluctance. Endra didn't know why she was doing this, but he could tell she didn't want to put Endra through this.

'Fuck.'

Endra desperately wished he was someone who could tell Twelve to piss off with that offer of hers. Someone who could look at the years ahead of living as a voice in someone's head and only laugh at it all. 

Laugh at his circumstances and not let a bit of it bother him.

But he wasn't someone like that. He wasn't a hero of a fairytale. In fact, he was closer to a villain. He was weak and he was tempted.

'I'm even surprised I didn't think of it before…' he smiled self-depreciatingly. 

Pushing down his conscience, he took the knife from Twelve's hand.

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Does it matter?" Twelve tilted her head.

Endra had no answer to it. 

'Fuck, fuck, fuck…'

"Do whatever you wish," Twelve sighed. "Take the opportunity, waste it, or perhaps do something completely out of my expectations."

She got up from her seat and quickly walked towards her room. 

"Fuck… fuck… fuck…" 

Endra was left muttering curses under his breath. 

It was ironic. His whole undeath, he spent wishing for the power to influence life. But now that the opportunity presented itself, he found himself not wanting it.

"Truly, humans change quickly," he whispered to himself. "I'm sure the me of ten years ago would've stabbed the boy in the head already. He wouldn't even care if the boy's still a damn baby. He'd consider it a mercy, even."

He wondered what happened during those ten years that he no longer considered that choice so obvious. 

"No…" he found himself whispering. "Nothing much has happened."

*****