"I find that somewhat amusing."
"You created me with your own hands and granted me all these abilities, yet you remain incapable of giving me this freedom you speak of."
Agaroth found himself unable to understand it.
The man standing before him possessed the power to build an entire world from nothing, complete with planets, stars, and the creatures that lived upon them.
He had even created Agaroth himself.
And yet...
He could not pull him out from between the pages of the book.
None of the other Writers had been capable of doing so either.
In the end, they had all turned their backs on him.
All except Frey.
Arlecchino had been the first to leave.
The others followed one after another once they had all grown tired of Frey's world.
In the end, Agaroth was nothing more than a word written upon one random page...
One page among millions.
