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"Vigil, save me!"
"Hurry, save me, he's in my head..."
Sercy's thoughts were in disarray, unable to maintain his Elf Form, as he stumbled and lurched towards Vigil.
Feeling the tentacles writhing beneath his skin, he pressed down hard with his fingers and easily tore off his nearly melted face, which was void of any blood flow. The pale-white muscular texture was exposed, with finger-length tentacles slowly twisting.
Sercy grabbed and tore off the tentacles, but more and more emerged from the flesh. Until his eyes burst, several tentacles stretched out from his eye sockets; his thoughts and whispering voice gently called out together, and he finally became quiet.
He gradually understood everything.
The bizarre change occurring right in front of him was completely ignored by Vigil; his mind was not in his body, standing still like a wooden stake, his thoughts roaming in the vast world, lost in its intoxication.