Tiramisu's eyes drifted away from the countless screens before her. The flickering light painted her delicate features in ghostly hues as she turned toward the trio, her gaze settling on Cain and Meylin.
"So, you are the Scarlet King," she said softly, her tone neither mocking nor impressed—simply certain. "And you are the Master's first disciple."
The trio's eyes twitched in unison. None of them had expected her voice to sound like that. It was tender, melodic—almost childlike, a whisper that felt like velvet brushing against their ears. Such gentleness did not belong to a being rumored to have defeated a Neo-Angel. For a fleeting instant, their composure wavered.
Appearance meant little in the world of gods and conquerors, but even so, their minds strained to reconcile the image before them—a small, graceful furry being with a voice like silk—with the overwhelming presence they felt pressing upon their souls.
