-Drip...-
He felt something... cold land on his forehead...
-Drip...-
Then it slid down his cheek and to his ear...
-Drip!-
Ah! It came back to his forehead! Good boy...
-Drip!!-
Oh... It went back down... goodbye...
-Drip!!!-
Wait... why was he asleep again? Wasn't he supposed to be triumphantly standing over the corpse of—
-DRIP!!!-
"Wha—?! Who—?! Where—?!" He woke with a start, half-expecting to be on a hospitable bed, or inside a tent, or even face-first into the sand... But this place was none of th—
-Bonk!-
"Oww!!" ...ose...
He whipped his head around, frantically scanning the barren snow-white room for the bastard that dared send him to horny ja—
-Thump!-
"Ow! Stop it, goddamnit!" ...Will you please let me narrate in peace?
"Hohoho! My apologies, both of you," A sweet, honeydew like chuckle answered his cries, her delicate laugh arousing one's mood like the soft ringing of bells on a rainy autumn morning...
"Hmm... I wouldn't call it that, but I suppose you artists have always had a flair for exaggeration," Again, she deigned to speak in our unworthy presence, her singsong tone closer to a choir of angels and cherubs than any ordinary being...
Finally, it seemed Connor recovered from the sharp pain on his forehead, "Who are you? And where am I?" He nervously asked, head bobbing around looking for the owner of the voice from earlier.
"Up here," He looked as instructed and was met with quite the surprise: there, hanging from the ceiling of the room, was a giant teardrop-shaped mass of water; what's more, it had... a face?!
It smiled in amusement, the plump heartlike lips that jutted out from the mass widening in the process, "Hello," It greeted nonchalantly, before smoothly sliding back and subsequently dropping onto a comfy little throne the same colour as everything here, all the while staring at Connor, waiting for his response.
He quickly got the memo, if confused by the fact that he had to greet a sentient water droplet, "H-Hello," He shyly returned the gesture.
She seemed amused at this(not that he could tell, he didn't have a doctorate in reading the emotions of said water droplet) and spoke, "Are you comfortable?"
He raised an eyebrow, confused at what she's insinuating. There was an awkward moment of silence between the two until she realized he had no idea what she meant.
"Are you comfortable with my current form, or would you prefer something more familiar?" She reiterated, though he couldn't even answer before she began to transform.
He looked on in awe as her watery insides started to whirl around fiercely, the clear liquid turning a bubbly tan and her previously rotund appearance to the form of a human. Eventually, she was a dead ringer for some average actress he'd seen once or twice back home— makeup and everything.
She smiled.
"Now then," She leaned forward, her hands stretching out in a 'come hither' motion.
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Once he was a comfortable distance for both of them, she continued, "I'm sure you have questio—"
"Where am I? Who are you? And where are my..." He gulped, unsure if he was actually worthy of the next word coming out of his mouth, "Friends?"
She licked her lips, eyes glinting a dangerous light, somewhat akin to a cougar eyeing a tasty piece of meat, "Oh... your friends?" she asked, her voice dripping with a hidden menace that wasn't there earlier.
He stifled a shrill 'eep!' though he managed to nod, warily studying her face.
The staredown went on for a good while, both parties unwilling to give an inch...
Except that wasn't how it went. Because after only a mere minute of staring, she raised her hands playfully, clearly showing she gave in, "I see you have changed... I love it when my toy— champions gain something from their journey,"
She stood up and snapped her fingers. Instantly, the room shifted dramatically. It first filled with a black gaseous substance, infecting the white with its darkness. And as the room got darker and darker, he felt increasingly tired, but right as he was about to drift off to sleep, the room came back into view, and he was shocked.
He was back under the sun, back to the desert, where he could see Malkov in the midst of cheering for him, where he could see Mariya's eyes staring straight at him, a small flicker of a smile on her face and... himself, mid roar, charging at Hikma.
"As you can see, they're fine," He was pulled back to his own reality by her intervention.
He furrowed his brow, amazed by the feat, "How... how is this happening?"
He heard a giggle before she materialized in front of him, "We're in my realm; I've temporarily whisked your consciousness away from your body a bit after you broke the illusion,"
Another piece of news that stumped him, "Illusion?!"
To his dismay, she waved him off dismissively, "No need to ruin the surprise," she said and snapped her finger for the second time. And in the blink of an eye, he was back.
"I believe I've satisfied two of your questions," She paused to sit back down on her throne, "As for the third one..."
Suddenly, her demeanour shifted. From the lax and friendly neighbour next door to something far more formal: he could see it now, how everything about her changed. The way her back straightened and her smile gave way to a professional poker face reminded him of the emperor to a certain extent. Except, the emperor could never exude authority as natural as she; he could never make you feel so small and helpless just by sitting there; he could never. Be. Her.
Finally, as Connor finished taking in her image, she spoke: her voice now strict and curt.
"I am Fate." She paused to stare straight into his eyes, her own a pupilless orb of cloudy white solely intent on peering into the depths of his soul, "Infernos, Lord of The Divine Laws, what have you,"
He felt a chill in his spine, "I am the arbiter of this world. Nothing can exist without me. Nothing. And yet... Yet!" She snarled in hostile malevolence, and for a moment, just a moment: he truly felt as if he was going to die...
"And yet, they want to rebel against me!" She breathed out roughly, and it took her a while before she could calm down, "I apologize. I was supposed to introduce myself; you've seen something embarrassing,"
Idly, Connor wondered why she was suddenly so polite, but that was put on the back burner when he remembered how angry she was and wisely decided not to press further, "You don't have to apologize; I wasn't bothered,"
She nodded appreciatively and continued, "Thank you. Anyways, with my introductions finished, I want to address why I've brought you here,"
Fate snapped, and a glass-like rectangle appeared in front of him. With a wave of her hand, the rectangle hovered down to Connor's level.
His eyes widened, and for a good reason too: as on the rectangle was where his body was, mid-dash and everything! Naturally, he was confused as to why she showed him this and turned to ask such. Her answer was telling.
"You..." He waited for her expectantly, eyes occasionally shifting from her face to the screen and back again.
"Constantine Callaway..." He held his breath; somehow, his instincts were screaming at him; they were telling him: 'Whatever you hear next is important! So listen up!'
He could see the contours of her lips open, and he swallowed in anticipation. His expression was—
"...Are weak,"
"???" Priceless...