Noirs hand was shaking as he saw the centre of the black fog. A humanoid silhouette seemed to breathe the darkness, its claws slowly drawing over a bloody figure on the ground, focussed on elicting as many screams as possible from its victim.

While previously striding majestically, Noir was pretty sure he was just about to sully his pants and would have turned around and ran pretending this was just a dream, if the pained voice wasn't that of Marc.

He knew what he did next was stupid, the glorified stick in his hands not optimized to actually hurt someone, but his rage blossomed and overwhelmed his rationality.

When his staff hit the beasts back, it resonated.

It was the simple thrum you might feel when holding a weak cable or the side of a drum someone was beating, but the resonance reached much deeper.

Where his staff hit, he felt a measure of control.

"I am the warper of flesh, and I command this resource to buckle under my power!"

The words left his mouth without his own will, drawing something from his creations and channelling it directly into the point of impact, where he felt something grow and spread. Barely a hundredth of a second later, the shadowy figure took a step back and screamed.

Noir knew he had fucked up right then and there, backpedaling as much as possible while his opponent readied its claws to punish the man that dared attack it.

"I call upon the strands of fate to assist me."

He said next, the words much more devout than anything he would ever say.

As the foreign darkness continued spreading, Noir held his staff like it was the only barrier between him and certain death.

Next, he took his left hand and slowly dragged Marc towards the shop entrance, the feeling of power growing the closer he was to his constructs.

As he dragged his apprentice inside, he felt something channeling between him and the boy, his wounds healing as the beast outside ran for its life.

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"Now he will believe in Magic, heck, if I didn't know that I made this rooms air as drugged as legally possible, even I would start to believe. What is it with those Voices in my head, anyway?"

He asked as he set Marc on a futon he had placed in the shops back corner as he had waited for the living space to be finished.

"We are not just Voices, young one."

The gentle, somewhat feminine voice answered, the snort of an old man following as the other one answered.

"I am a fragment of the Flesh warper, and like my colleague over there, have been sent to train you in the disciplines of the divine. Though it is quite cramped in here, normally, everyone just gets one shard per apocalypse. What did you do to be screwed with the curse of trinity?"

Noir smiled. "I know you are just fragments of my imagination and addled consciousness, probably because I forgot to take my pills with the tea this morning. But I'm going to indulge you anyways. I am Noir, Experimental Taxidermist and expert Divinator. Or, you know, I pretend to be one and take the money from others while I give life advice around randomly laid Tarot cards. Of course the advice is specified for the cards. I am after all paid so these people get to see me interpret the pictures for them."

He explained, the gruff voice audibly groaning.

"Let me guess, you had your imaginary friends for a little too long?"

It asked, Noir nodding.

"Yeah, they diagnosed me with some shit and gave me pills that supressed most of my imagination to the point of aphantasia. And as soon as I forget to take them, shit like this happens."

The dissapointment was palpable.

"Well, we got good news and bad news. The good news is that everyone now has voices in their heads, and those who can't handle it give in to them and become things like you have seen on the outside. Call me Warper, by the way. Being called Gruff voice all the time is pretty annoying."

Noir smiled. "Sure... let's say I believe you just for the sake of the thought experiment. What will happen next?"

The more cheerful of the voices chimed in at that.

"Given your past experience with voices, it will be impossible for us to overwhelm you. We both hold eachother back. Unless you draw upon our aid too much, you should be fine. And once you cross the next threshold, you will be capable of anything we can assist you in anyways. We do recommend keeping an eye on the boy, if he is as precious to you as we think, his death would turn us into one of the Monsters. Just remain inside, craft some minions and try to understand the future before you."

Noir sighed.

"I won't believe you unless you are still here when I take my... fuck."

His eyes went whide as he realized something.

"I have no pills left... I'll have to buy some tomorrow. And there will be no more incense for me once I wake up."

And thus, he barred the door shut and went to sleep on a particularly big pillow he had placed on the floor for the few people that came inside to read, instead of asking him to lay out their future.

He would not leave his student alone after his first drug induced accident, not when he himself was almost as fucked up.