Chapter 315: The Mouse In The Trap [3]
I stared back at Ossian, and despite the cosmic horror pressing down on me, despite Zephyr’s vacant eyes and the weight of impossible choices, I found myself chuckling. It was a cold, bitter sound that echoed strangely in the bone chamber.
"There’s no real choice here, is there?" I said, my voice dropping all pretense of fear or respect. "You’re not offering me three paths. You’re offering me one, the second one, and dressing the other two in costumes so horrific that ’damned salvation’ looks like the only rational option. You’re trying to make me choose to be your herald because that’s what you need. Right?"
Ossian’s smile didn’t falter, but the amusement in his violet eyes sharpened, becoming colder, more analytical. "Think whatever you wish, little mouse. But my offer stands, exactly as I stated it."
"Then how can I trust you?" I shot back, pressing the advantage his own manipulative nature had given me. "You already swore an oath upon your life that we would be ’safe here’. And yet, here we are." I gestured at Zephyr’s catatonic form. "What value does the word of the Architect of Discord truly hold? You said it yourself - you feed on broken promises and twisted truths."
I took a step forward, my own gaze hardening. "And there’s another thing. This whole performance. The tragic history, the flawed guardian, the tempting quest. It’s too perfect. You’re not just a prisoner trying to escape; you’re an ’artist’. You enjoy this. You craft narratives and watch others dance within them. It’s not just about freedom for you, is it? It’s about the game, the thrill."
I let the accusation hang in the air, watching him closely. "So I’ll ask you again, Architect. Why would I ever believe you’d honor a deal? The moment we take that Stone, you have no reason not to simply kill us both. Or worse, make us your permanent puppet for the next act of your play."
"You doubt my benevolence?" Ossian purred, though the light in his sockets flickered with something dangerous, irritation at his masterpiece being critiqued. "You are hurting my feelings."
"Your ’benevolence’ is a tool, same as everything else," I countered, my mind racing, stitching together a new plan from the threads of his arrogance. "You need something from us. Something you can’t just take. Otherwise, you would have taken it already."
I looked pointedly at the Nexus Stone, then back at him.
"The lock requires a willing hand to turn the key, doesn’t it? You can’t just possess one of us and make us take it. The seal that binds you here has a clause. A safeguard against exactly this kind of situation. It has to be a choice. A conscious, willing decision to remove the Stone. That’s why the elaborate story. That’s why you’re trying to negotiate instead of just overpowering us."
He’s really good at weaving lies.
"You can’t take it by yourself. And certainly can’t interfere directly. And that’s why..." I met his gaze, the final piece clicking into place. "You’re not giving me a choice . You’re asking for my help . And you’ve gone to all this trouble because you can’t get it by force."
The chamber fell utterly silent. The playful malice vanished from Ossian’s expression, replaced by a still, cold intensity. The shadows around him stopped their playful coiling and simply hung, heavy and menacing.
For the first time, I was looking at the true Architect of Discord, not the playful trickster, but the ancient, frustrated entity trapped in a cage of his own making.
"...clever," he finally said, the word a soft, deadly whisper that seemed to suck the air from the room. "Too clever for your own good."
"I know, right?" I smiled faintly.
The game had changed.
I had called his bluff and exposed the core rule of his prison.
Now, it was his move.
"..."
The silence stretched between us like a taut wire, and then I saw it - a new emotion flickering across Ossian’s skeletal features. Not anger, not frustration, but something far more unsettling.
Fascination.
Pure, predatory fascination.
"Hahaha!" His laughter erupted suddenly, but this time it wasn’t mocking or cruel. It was... delighted? "That’s why I like you, little mouse. You are genuinely different from all the other individuals I’ve met over the millennia."
He leaned forward, his violet eyes burning with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Oh, I’ve encountered beings far more brilliant than you. Ancient beings who could unravel reality with a thought, scholars who mapped the very foundations of existence, heroes whose names echo through legend..." He waved a dismissive claw. "But they were all so... predictable. They followed their nature. The heroes charged forward with noble hearts, the scholars sought knowledge above all else, the ancients wielded their power with arrogant certainty."
His gaze fixed on me with laser focus.
"But you... you have something that makes me want to crack open that clever little skull of yours and see exactly what’s ticking inside. You think like a predator while claiming to be prey. You analyze like a scholar but act like a survivor. You’re suspicious of everything, yet you walked directly into my domain anyway."
The shadows around him began to writhe again, but differently now - less like threatening serpents and more like curious fingers, reaching toward me.
For the first time, I wasn’t sure if I’d cornered him... or if I’d just made myself his new favorite toy.
"Most fascinating of all," he continued, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper, "you saw through my performance, identified the rules of my prison, called my bluff... and yet you’re still here. Still talking. Still playing the game even though you know the deck is stacked."
He tilted his skull, studying me like a particularly intriguing specimen.
"Tell me, what makes you think you can win against someone who has had millions of years to perfect the art of manipulation?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but Ossian raised a skeletal finger.
"Actually, don’t answer yet. I think you misunderstand the nature of our... negotiation." His voice took on a silken quality that made every nerve in my body scream warnings. "You’ve correctly identified that I need your willing cooperation. But ’willing’ has such a flexible definition, doesn’t it?"
He gestured casually toward Zephyr’s motionless form.
"Let me provide a small demonstration of what ’unwilling cooperation’ looks like."