"Dude, you're thinking way too loud!"
Grey froze, feeling his heart skip a beat. The fear hit so hard that his scalp went numb and his hands prickled with goosebumps. The sudden voice in his head sounded at once like a distant echo and a whisper right by his ear.
"The old monster! He's still alive! He's right inside my mind!" the realization struck Grey, sending a wave of cold terror through him.
He started breathing heavily, like a bull after a fight. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to run away with his tail between his legs. But he couldn't.
"How is this even possible? I saw with my own eyes how his consciousness dissolved into my sea of soul. Why do I still hear this cursed voice?" he thought frantically. "Right, I was supposed to receive all his knowledge, but instead I got nothing but fragments of meaningless, scattered memories… Does that mean I never defeated the old monster at all? How arrogant of me to think that a cripple like me could kill a Sky-dweller…"
"Hey, buddy, stop calling me old! I'm only a few years older than you!" the voice protested, as if responding to Grey's deepest thoughts.
"Y-you… can you read my mind?!" the boy whispered, feeling panic spread through his entire body.
"Ah, if only! Though I'm not sure I'd want to hear everything going on in your head," the voice replied with a hint of irony. "But I can vaguely pick up what you're thinking when you get too emotional."
A pause hung in the air, as if the speaker was waiting for Grey to process what he had just heard.
"And why do you think I'm some kind of old freak?" the voice continued. "What did I ever do to you? Alright, I admit it, I took over your body without permission. That was… a bit rude of me. But how was I supposed to know you were still alive? I didn't understand what was happening myself!"
Grey listened to all that nonsense with a stone-cold expression.
At the same time, he tried to focus and return to his sea of soul to fight the uninvited guest once more. But every attempt ended in failure.
He just stood there, frozen like a puppet with its strings cut.
Realizing the silence had dragged on, Grey decided to keep the conversation going. If the old bastard wanted to stall for time, he would gladly play along. He needed a breather to gather his thoughts.
"W-why did you choose me to take over?" Grey asked directly, genuinely wanting to hear the answer.
"What? What are you talking about, kid? When did I ever get to choose?" the voice replied in surprise. "Looks like I died in my own world, and then I ended up right in a desert. Uh… it feels kind of creepy talking about my own death…"
"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?" Grey snapped, cutting him off. He no longer cared about manners after hearing such blatant lies. "Of course you had a choice! You could've died with dignity instead of taking over a weakened child in a desperate attempt to survive! Stop talking nonsense! Who gave the order? Pompey? Orion?" In a surge of emotion, Grey stopped holding back his voice, nearly waking the old man and Sheryl, who had been dozing peacefully.
"Kid, I don't even know who the hell you're talking about," the voice replied with a hint of irritation. "I was born and raised on Earth. I got robbed and, I think, shot. A hospital bed, bright light, darkness, intense pain, and then I was in your body. I thought I'd become just another transmigrator, like in those third-rate novels. Who would've thought the original owner of the body was still alive?!"
Grey felt like his head was about to split apart.
The words of his interlocutor made no sense at all, as if he wasn't talking to a human, but to some kind of monkey.
"What novels? What do you mean 'born and raised on Earth'? Are you some kind of strange plant subspecies? Do you even realize how stupid your excuses sound?"
"God, it's so hard talking to a prehistoric human! A commoner! An idiot! What do you even know? Earth is the name of my world, a planet. Imagine a huge blue sphere floating in endless space, where intelligent beings like us live. Novels are just made-up stories people write out of boredom. And no, I'm not a plant, and not a demon either! I'm the same kind of human as you!"
"So you weren't one of those who attacked our village?!" Grey asked again, doubt still lingering in his voice, barely believing the words of the uninvited guest.
"Hallelujah! Someone get this guy a Nobel Prize. I don't even understand what village you're talking about. You mean the place I saw in your memories, with the cat-girl, a couple of strange pets, and that silver-haired mother and daughter? That village?"
"That's right, you bastard! How dare you imagine yourself hugging my mother!" little Grey flared up again, recalling the images he had seen in his sea of soul while they were fighting for control over the body.
"Hey, hey, easy there! Easy. I admit, I let my imagination run a bit. But damn it, your mom is smoking hot. What man could resist that kind of temptation?! I'm not even going to apologize, since it was a natural reaction, and I didn't do anything wrong. Just a little fantasizing. Like you're any better."
Grey felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger.
He couldn't believe the nerve of this… thing, daring to speak about his mother like that. But at the same time, somewhere deep inside, he was beginning to realize that maybe he wasn't dealing with an enemy, but with something completely different. And that scared him even more.
"Let's say I'm willing to believe you," Grey said slowly. "What are you trying to achieve by talking to me? Want to lull me into lowering my guard, play on my emotions so you can take over my body? I assure you, I'm more ready for a fight now than ever!"
A heavy silence followed.
It seemed the other side truly couldn't answer the accusations. With every passing minute, the situation grew more tangled.
At last, the Earthling broke the silence. "Listen, my name is Grey, just like yours. I'm from another world. We don't have magic, no other races, just humans. By some strange twist of fate, I died in my world and woke up here, in your body. Believe me, I really want to go back. Just look at yourself, a little boy with no strength, living in a pigsty. Do you think I dreamed of a life like this?"
"…But… I don't want to die again. So if you don't find me a new body, you'll have to put up with me. I can promise I won't harm you or anyone you point out. I can even help you with your goals. Isn't it tempting to gain the knowledge of an entire civilization?"
This time, the voice sounded completely serious.
By the end of the monologue, little Grey caught hints of melancholy and hope in the speaker's words. His instincts remained calm, as if there was no danger.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Grey did his best to stay composed and think logically. If he thought about it, there was a strange sense to what the voice was saying.
He recalled that foreign world he had found himself in before the battle of souls.
It had been unlike anything he had ever seen before. Moreover, his opponent's actions in the sea of soul had always seemed strange, even clumsy.
No matter how badly wounded a Sky-dweller's soul might be, it should have been far more experienced in handling it than a youth like him. It was truly odd that he had managed to subdue a Sky-dweller so easily.
"Alright, it's not like I actually know how to get rid of you for good," little Grey admitted. "Your words explain a lot, but I still find them hard to believe. Can you tell me more about your world?"
Reluctant curiosity mixed with caution in his voice.
He still didn't fully trust this strange being, but he was willing to listen, to better understand what, or who, he was dealing with.
The older Grey hesitated for a moment, but still answered:
"Yes, I can, but I have a few conditions. We'll discuss them later, if you don't insist. You remember the girl, right? She's in an advanced stage of a purulent infection. I'm surprised she's still breathing. Maybe we should deal with this urgent problem first?"
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over Grey.
While the conversation with the alien "intruder" could hardly be called pleasant, it had distracted him from his agonizing dilemma.
The boy shifted his gaze back to Lily's motionless figure, then to the vial tightly clutched in his hand. Despite the dark night and the clouds hiding the moon and stars, Grey felt as if he could clearly see the small, exhausted succubus and the little bottle with its clear liquid.
"What do you think I should choose?" he suddenly asked for advice, turning to the only one he could share his secrets with, the strange voice in his head. He wasn't looking for a ready answer, he just wanted to hear an outside opinion.
"Hey, kid, don't dump that responsibility on me!" the voice protested. "I have no idea what your relationship with her is, or the real value of that weird little bottle. I just woke up, and only because of your chaotic emotions. The decision is yours, I don't want you blaming me later."
"Didn't you just offer your help? Where's your word now?" little Grey muttered раздраженно. "I'm willing to hear your opinion…"
The Earthling did not rush to answer. Just as Grey began to think the other had disappeared, the voice rang out in his head again:
"Sigh… I don't really understand the morals of your world or the rules here," the older Grey began cautiously. "Personally, I'd advise you to make a choice you won't regret later."
Little Grey fell into deep thought over those words. Despite their simplicity, they struck something deep inside him. All this time, he had been unconsciously ignoring one important thing: what did he truly want?
Grey tightened his grip on the vial, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.
Years of striving, dreams of strength and independence, all of it flashed through his mind in an instant. Then, the image of the defiant Lily lit up in his thoughts, reminding him of the moments they had shared.
At last, he moved, putting the small bottle back into his bottomless pocket.