"I won’t."
Sylvia’s voice was firm.
There was no hesitation in it. No weakness. Only the cold certainty of refusal.
For a mont the book said nothing.
Then the page slowly filled with new words.
"I am a god. I have already seen how this ends."
"You will accept my offer."
The text appeared calm and perfectly even, as if the outco had already been decided.
Sylvia’s hands trembled slightly.
"I won’t," she repeated.
Her eyes flickered for just a mont, but she forced herself to remain steady.
"You... how can you even ask this?" she said, her voice tightening. "It only proves one thing."
"You aren’t in control."
"Not as much as you pretend to be."
The pages of the book flipped suddenly.
They stopped on a blank sheet.
Yet no words appeared.
He was waiting.
Sylvia realized it imdiately.
He knew what she wanted to say next.
But the Unknown God was letting her speak anyway.
Perhaps because conversation was more entertaining when the other participant believed they still had agency.
Sylvia clenched her hands.
"If you could act freely, then why make all these deals?" she demanded. "Why not co down here and take what you want yourself?"
"I will not deprive Damon of his one chance to fight back against unfair odds."
For a mont the page remained empty.
Then a single image appeared.
Damon.
A sword driven through his chest.
Blood running down the blade.
His eyes filled with despair.
That was the only reply.
Sylvia’s breath caught and she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.
Then new words appeared beneath the image.
"You are correct."
"While I am a demon... I am also a god."
"And what kind of god would I be if I did not give mortals a fair chance?"
The page shifted.
For a mont the text seed almost amused.
"I was about to tell you everything."
"The future."
"And how to avoid it completely."
"But no matter."
"You have made your choice."
The pages slowly turned again.
Then they stopped.
"A new offer."
"I will show you a glimpse of what is to co."
"In exchange, you need only do one simple thing."
Sylvia hesitated.
This was different.
Better... perhaps.
"And what is that?" she asked carefully.
The book began writing again.
"I only need you to see the Lake of Tears."
Sylvia’s expression hardened imdiately.
"I won’t help you destroy it," she said.
Her refusal was imdiate.
The Unknown God did not seem bothered.
His response appeared just as calmly as before.
"Very well."
"Then I will make you a promise."
"I will not destroy the Lake of Tears."
Sylvia frowned.
Sothing about this felt wrong.
Too easy.
She could not see the trick yet, but she knew one had to exist.
New words appeared.
"No need to be suspicious."
"While there are no absolutes..."
"My promises are absolutes."
The book continued.
"Promises I make, and promises made to , cannot be broken."
Sylvia still hesitated.
This deal felt dangerous.
Almost... demonic.
"Then... you haven’t made the promise yet," she said cautiously.
"Of course."
The words appeared instantly.
Then a new line ford.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"I promise, in the na of the Demon God..."
The letters that followed seed distorted, as if reality itself resisted writing them.
"A*t*ir I*a Ac**x."
"To uphold my end of the covenant."
The air in the room grew colder.
Sothing about the agreent felt ancient.
Old.
Like a ritual older than language itself.
Sylvia’s instincts scread at her that this was dangerous.
But she was desperate.
And desperation made mortals accept deals they normally never would.
She swallowed.
"What do I need to do?"
"Pick up a worm from the ground and place it in your eye."
Sylvia read the words and imdiately went pale.
Her gaze drifted toward the floor where the maggots writhed in small, sickening clusters. They had co from her—vomited from her own body monts before.
The sight alone made her stomach twist.
After the revolting experience of throwing them up, the thought of touching them again filled her with disgust.
But the covenant had already begun.
Slowly, she knelt down.
Her fingers trembled as she reached toward the ground and picked one up.
The thing squird between her fingers.
Her stomach churned.
For a mont she hesitated.
Then she raised it toward her eye.
Before she could even react—
The worm lunged forward.
It burrowed into her eye with a wet pop and a spray of blood.
Her vision exploded into red.
Pain tore through her skull like lightning.
Black veins erupted across the side of her face as she collapsed onto the floor.
"AHHHHHHH—!"
Her scream tore through the room.
A raw, gut-wrenching cry of agony that echoed outward into the silent void.
Her body convulsed as the pain ripped through her nerves.
Minutes passed.
Then slowly...
The pain stopped.
Sylvia lay there breathing heavily.
Her hand trembled as she lifted it away from her face.
Her left eye was intact.
More than intact.
It felt... clearer.
Sharper.
As if the world itself had peeled away its layers.
Yet at the sa ti it felt wrong.
Like the eye no longer truly belonged to her.
She slowly turned her gaze toward the book.
And from her left eye—
She saw it.
Not a book.
Not anymore.
It looked as if a night sky had been forced into the shape of a book.
Inside it she saw everything.
The omniverse itself.
Galaxies.
Star systems.
Entire universes drifting like grains of dust in an endless cosmic ocean.
The deeper she looked, the more the vastness swallowed her mind.
She felt herself becoming lost.
Entranced.
Then—
She saw sothing within that infinite sea.
Herself.
Standing there among the countless worlds.
A small figure inside the boundless void.
One of her eyes duller than the other.
"Now you truly are a White Seer."
The voice ca from directly behind her ear.
A whisper.
Sylvia spun around instinctively.
No one was there.
The voice continued softly.
"Perhaps it would be better to call you..."
"The White Witch."
A tear of blood slipped from Sylvia’s eye.
Then the whisper ca again.
"Wake up, White Witch."
Sylvia jerked upright.
Her head snapped up from the desk.
Her cheek had been resting on the book.
Her entire body was covered in sweat.
Her heart pounded violently as she looked around.
Her room.
User Comments
0 comments from readers