Was he really in the novel? It was something hard to accept.
His common sense completely denied that possibility, but it didn't seem to be a dream either.
In a way he couldn't deny what he saw, that was clear. But for some reason, he didn't feel the emotion he would have thought he'd have when transmigrating.
But why?
"Son, are you alright?" Baltazar asked, putting a hand on his shoulder and kneeling on one knee to be at his height.
A strange warmth invaded him, a feeling that wasn't really his, and that he needed to learn to control.
"I am yes... But my friends..." Lloyd lowered his gaze.
It was understandable he didn't feel joy. He'd transmigrated yes, but the moment he appeared he'd been beaten and his friends mistreated.
Gustavo probably wasn't alive anymore.
"I understand, Sebastian could you..."
"Of course," the butler didn't need orders to act, he knew perfectly what to do.
Lloyd's fists clenched tightly, his guts were churning. He was worried, so much so he wanted to cry... For people he didn't really know.
No, if he was Lloyd Morfeus now, then those boys were his friends, not strangers.
"Well, do you want to go home or do you want to wait?"
Baltazar's voice was no longer so cold, it seemed he'd tried to soften his attitude.
The blond looked his father in the eyes, he seemed genuinely concerned.
Was this really the evil tyrant from the novel?
He didn't seem like it. Though in the novel, Baltazar didn't have any children, maybe in the original work Lloyd hadn't survived... Though there was no point worrying about that now.
"I'll wait."
His father nodded, standing up again.
"That's fine, but let's do it outside," he said, putting a hand behind his back, guiding him toward the exit.
Lloyd didn't resist, that place full of xeno corpses wasn't the most welcoming after all.
Upon leaving, a breeze of fresh air caressed his face, Lloyd felt he could breathe comfortably again.
"Mmm?" the boy noticed something from the corner of his eye.
Turning around he could see someone familiar. Black and dirty hair, old and worn clothes, but with bright golden eyes that stood out on her expressionless face.
It was that brat.
"Calypso," he said quietly.
In the novel, one of Baltazar's henchmen was called that.
She was a woman with black hair and golden eyes. A nephilim, with the power of putrefaction and death.
A curious character, since even if Baltazar hated xenos, he got along well with her.
"You know her?" the man asked. "It was thanks to her I knew where you were, she came looking for help."
The blond blinked in surprise.
She cared about him? But why? Lloyd's memories were clear, he'd made her life hell.
"I see... I'll have to thank her."
The boy started walking toward her. Calypso didn't move, just kept her gaze fixed on him.
"So you went for help, huh?" Lloyd asked.
The girl nodded.
"I see, that saved my life."
The blond's body trembled for some reason, as if his body rejected apologizing to that girl.
"Well it's natural you'd do it, after all an inferior being like you must be at the service of people like me," the boy then blurted out, too fast to avoid it.
The relief was instantaneous, but Lloyd was confused.
Why had he said that? It wasn't something he'd decided, his body simply acted on its own.
Was it a habit of this body? Like muscle memory.
It was dangerous, he needed to learn to control those impulses, they could get him in trouble.
However, Calypso didn't seem bothered by his words, in fact, she'd nodded.
The boy couldn't help but feel bad.
Had he traumatized her to that point? He needed to find a way to make up for his mistake.
"Mmm," the boy reflected a bit, until reaching a conclusion. "Though even dogs get a reward when they do something good, so you can ask me for something."
His idea was to give her something as thanks, though he hadn't said it in the best way.
Though hearing that, Calypso's expressionless eyes filled with hope for a brief moment, then passed to an expression of doubt.
"Come on don't be shy and ask, I'm a man of my word," he said.
Calypso seemed to look at him reproachfully when he said that.
"I-I," she began, her voice seemed like a whisper, as if she feared to speak. "I want... I want you to never abandon me."