Hugo stared at the small, fur-covered creature crouched among the tomato vines.
For a long moment, his brain refused to connect the dots.
It was eating—no devouring the tomatoes.
His mother's tomatoes.
The realization struck like a cold slap.
Of all the nightmares that could've crawled out of a magical portal, this… this thing had chosen to vandalize her garden?
Hugo's grip tightened around the wooden plank in his hand until the edges dug into his palm. "You—stop that!"
The words came out sharper than he intended, echoing slightly through the yard.
The creature froze.
A smear of tomato pulp glistened around its snout as it slowly lifted its head.
For a second, they just stared at each other — boy and beast, moonlight stretching thin between them.
Then it swallowed, patted its stomach with both paws, and said in a perfectly clear, articulate voice:
"You called, master?"
Hugo blinked, trying to process what he was seeing. "…You… what are you?"
The creature straightened, chest puffed out proudly. "I am a Lich King."
There was a beat of silence, long enough for a distant car horn to sound from down the street.
"A… what now?"
"A Lich King," it repeated, grave and dignified, as though announcing royalty. The gold silk of its robe shimmered faintly under the moonlight, embroidered runes pulsing like tiny heartbeats.
Hugo rubbed a hand over his face trying to push that the headache he felt coming. "And why are you here?"
The creature's head tilted slightly. "You granted me permission, master."
Then something clicked.
The pop-up, the flickering interface. The message asking for entry.
"Wait… Randalf the Lich Monarch?" Hugo asked carefully.
"At your service," it replied with the earnestness of a butler announcing tea.
Then it burped — softly and politely. The faint scent of tomato drifted upward.
Hugo closed his eyes briefly. "Of course."
He glanced around. The neighborhood was quiet. If anyone saw this, he'd be institutionalized by morning.
"Come on," he muttered. "Before someone thinks I'm harboring a talking rat."
"As you wish, master."
Hugo exhaled through his nose, shoulders stiff with the quiet disbelief of someone who had officially run out of emotional bandwidth. He steeled his heart and bent to pick the creature up, deciding it was best to just deal with the mess indoors.
But before his fingers touched fur, the world twisted.
Air folded. Space bent. The night vanished.
He blinked—and suddenly, the dim yellow light of his basement flickered above him.
The cold cement floor pressed against his socks.
He was home.
"What the…" he whispered.
A faint hum came from the above — the refrigerator's low buzz — and the comforting clutter of his desk came into view.
Except now, perched on that desk like a smug ornament, was the creature, crumbs on its muzzle, face buried in what used to be his birthday cake.
"Splendid," Randalf murmured, eyes half-closed in bliss. "Truly splendid."
"..."
"...That was my cake."
The creature licked a paw, utterly unbothered. "Ah, my apologies. I required sustenance after the summoning. Ectoplasmic exhaustion can be… unpleasant."
Hugo just stared, he didn't even have the energy to sound sarcastic anymore.
Randalf brushed crumbs from his robe, then looked up, face bright and expectant. "Now then, master — how may I serve?"
Hugo stared at him for a long time. "Why are you here, exactly?"
"You summoned me, master," Randalf said cheerfully, voice still sticky with frosting.
"Yeah, I know that, but… why? From where? How? I just tore my token and got a D-Class Resonance rank. I didn't sign up for… this. A fat, hungry raccoon in a gold robe?"
Randalf frowned, patting his robe as if adjusting the dignity of his situation. "First of all, I am a Lich, not this… raccoon thing you speak of. Secondly…" He paused, scratching his chin with a stubby finger. "Well… I have no idea either. I was just… minding my business when I sensed my master seeking a summon, so I requested permission to come."
Hugo rubbed his forehead, the headache crawling up like some unwelcome parasite. "And how exactly do you know I'm your master?"
Randalf stared into nothing for a moment, considering, then shrugged. "I don't know. I just… know."
"Great. Just great."
"What would you like me to do for you, master? You seem troubled," Randalf asked sincerely, though the sincerity was slightly undermined by the frosting smeared across his tiny muzzle.
Hugo stared at him. "Well, you could start by stopping that." The Lich froze mid-lick, then snapped upright like a soldier standing at attention.
"What else?"
Hugo exhaled, shoulders slumping. "I… don't know. What can you do?"
"Anything," Randalf said immediately, no hesitation.
Hugo arched a brow. "Anything, huh? Then… can you fix this damn useless resonance of mine?"
He said it half-jokingly, but Randalf didn't laugh.
Instead, the little creature hopped down from the desk and landed soundlessly.
Then, without hesitation, it began climbing up Hugo's leg like a determined squirrel.
"Wha—what are you doing?!" Hugo yelped, trying to back away.
"Hold still, master," Randalf said, tone calm and grave. "This will only take a moment."
Its tiny hands pressed against Hugo's chest.
The touch was cool — not in temperature, but in essence, like something vast and unseen brushing the surface of his soul.
Hugo froze.
For an instant, the world seemed to bend inward.
He felt something probing deep inside him — through the layers of flesh, bone, and memory — until it touched a place he didn't know existed.
It was cold and endless.
A rhythm pulsing faintly beneath everything.
A silent ocean trapped within a cage too small to hold it.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the sensation vanished.
Randalf dropped back down, dusted his tiny robe, and looked at him with mild disapproval. "Hm. As I thought. Several channels blocked for some reason. One nearly severed entirely. How you even manifested a reading at all is… fascinating."
Hugo blinked, still catching his breath. "I… what?"
"Your flow is constricted," Randalf continued, pacing in a circle. "Your body's core lattice was never properly aligned."
He stopped and looked up at Hugo, eyes faintly glowing blue.
"In simpler terms — you are a cup trying to hold an ocean. Would you like me to fix that?"
Hugo hesitated. He didn't understand half of what the raccoon was saying, but one word cut through the fog.
"...Fix? Yes. Definitely yes."
Randalf nodded once, satisfied. "Then hold still, and try not to scream."
Before Hugo could protest, the air shifted. The basement light dimmed to a dull red hue. Shadows rippled like liquid along the walls, drawn toward Randalf as if magnetized.
The creature lifted its staff — a pale rod etched with runes that pulsed with cold, blue light.
A low chant began, words that carried weight, making the air vibrate.
Each syllable pressed against Hugo's skin, heavy and ancient, as if reality itself was listening.
The temperature plummeted. Frost crawled across the desk.
Then came the pain.
Dark tendrils erupted from the floor, curling around him — not constricting, but piercing, threading through his being. He gasped, eyes wide, every nerve aflame.
Cold surged through him. The sensation was terrifying and pure, like drowning in starlight.
The tendrils pulsed once — and shattered into motes of light.
Hugo dropped to his knees, gasping, sweat freezing on his skin.
The air felt clean, sharp. The pressure in his chest — gone.
A faint chime rang in the air, soft and crystalline.
The interface blinked back to life before his eyes.
[Changes Detected]
[Scanning...]
[Resonance Rank: SSS]