"Wake up," a seemingly devilish voice reverberated in Bob's mind, stirring him from a deep slumber from which he could've never awoken. Bob felt a surge of anger, unbeknownst to and incapable of grasping the gravity of the situation.
It seemed Behemoth had shattered his reasoning.
"Who dares…" Bob groaned, trying to release Draconic Authority. However, at that moment, a sharp pain assaulted his insides, forcing him down. A disgruntled noise escaped his maw, along with saliva.
"You fucking bastard…" Arthur muttered under his breath, wiping away the Dragon's saliva with an expression of disgust. He heard weak laughter from the other side. "Get back to work, Nihilus!"
Bob's anger was unrestrained, yet the fear of the monstrosity that had crushed him (quite literally) prevented him from swinging at the crimson-eyed man.
"How did you even become a Fake Dragon?" Arthur inquired.
"Why do I have to tell you?"