Sunny froze.
He was not being subjected to a harrowing attack, and yet, that did not make him feel any less alarmed. If anything, he felt more shaken than he would have if the Puppeteer had thrown all its profane power into an obliterating assault.
Because despite the fact that the world had changed, and Sunny himself was vastly more powerful now than he had been before, one truth remained the same since the turbulent days of his youth.
It was that among all the horrors of the Nightmare Spell, none were more sinister and dreadful than the ones who could speak like humans.
'Damnation.'
He looked up and studied the motionless Puppeteer, who loomed far above him like a black insectile cliff.
'Don't answer, don't answer, don't…'
Then, his lips moved on their own:
"...Who's speaking?"
There were a few moments of silence, and then the soft voice resounded from nowhere — it was as if the wind itself was answering:
"I am Moth."
Sunny narrowed his eyes, unsure what to say.
