Chapter 8: (CH7)THE ETHICS OF POWER
The apartment walls felt thinner than usual, like they were barely holding back the chaos outside. Distant screams echoed through the cracked windows—sirens, roars, something shattering. Luis sat cross-legged on the floor, counting his Soul Essence for the third time.
300. Still not enough.
Zyx floated lazily near the ceiling, upside down like a bored bat, spinning an imaginary coin between his fingers. "You know," he said casually, "there’s a faster way."
Luis didn’t look up. "If you’re about to suggest killing other Hosts again—"
"Not just any Hosts," Zyx interrupted, flipping midair and hovering right-side up now. "I mean the weak ones. The ones who’ll die soon anyway. Think of it as... early recycling. Efficient and eco-friendly."
Luis’s grip tightened around his wrench. "No."
"Oh come on—"
"I said no." The words came out sharper than he meant. Luis took a breath, tried again. "I’ll fight if it’s life or death. But not for crafting materials. Not just because it’s convenient."
Zyx hovered in silence for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and shrugged. "Fine. Enjoy your moral superiority while slow-roasting in bunny hell for the next week."
Return to the Forest
Dawn painted the forest in pale gold, but there was nothing peaceful about it. Luis’s muscles still ached from the day before, and the Rustfang Hares had grown smarter—skittish now, darting through the underbrush like they knew what he was.