The sudden transformation of the voice in Winter's head into this huge entity with burning eyes and thick skin radiating purple color was something nobody was ready for.
Everyone in proximity to this beast felt its presence. Zake made a run for his life immediately, finding a place to hide.
Winter's head relaxed after the pressure, which felt like days of torture compressed into seconds — vanished, leaving Winter gasping heavily, catching his breath back.
His body shook because of its aftereffects.
He slowly turned his gaze to the menacing new problem — the demon with tentacles — as if fear took a physical form, carrying the smell of rotten flesh.
"You a summoner, Winter?" Phill asked, gasping. "How did you summon a demon out of everything? This has never happened before, not even in the worst of records."
"Oh, hi there, Winter. I'm the one you used to call the voice," the demon spoke in a mocking tone.
"I can still hear this creature," Winter wondered to himself.
The entity lifted both hands. "Do I look great? Don't you worry. I won't kill you, and that's not out of affection but a condition." The demon smiled. "You summoning me makes things complicated — irritating even — like biting my own tail."
"One cannot kill their summoner, isn't it? Huh."
The demon stretched its tentacle toward Winter; the tip of its tentacle transformed into a hand. The long nail of its finger was placed against Winter's forehead.
The demon tried something. Its eyebrows tightened after a pause. He continued, "Guess the theory applies to us as well. We cannot kill the summoner."
"Anyway, I'm not prohibited from harming others. Let's kill your friend over there or that coward hiding behind the rock, thinking I can't smell his filthy human stench." he turned his head towards Winter, "Killing them in front of you will bring me more joy."
"Leave them. Please," Winter spoke slowly, trying to stand up. "Didn't you agree to save them?"
"Save them from the caterpillar that I just killed for you? Our contract ended right there," the demon added.
"I love the sight of humans reacting to their loved ones dying, turning into lifeless husks."
"Them pleading for help from God, or hoping for some miracle to happen — the assumption that I will stop somehow is amusing. I never understood why humans think that."
Winter thought to himself, "Did my parents also meet a similar fate, dying for some creature's amusement? Are we just a plaything for them?" Winter's chest tightened. For the first time, the calm demeanour of Winter changed to hate.
The demon continued, "This guy — what's his name again — Phill, right? He's the most powerful here. Must be eliminated first." The demon reached out with one slick arm and grabbed Phill by the leg.
Lifting him like a sack, it held him upside down in the air and shook his body up and down. Phill, already suffering from the previous fight, struggled to resist, coughing blood.
"What is he to you, Winter? A friend, or maybe something more? Okay, what should I do with him first? Hm, choices, choices."
Phill struggled, kicking with his free leg, screaming, "Fuck you, you stupid piece of crap!" but the creature hardly felt any of the kicks. Phill was unable to free himself, the demon's grip like iron and fire, crushing his leg.
"I'm still useless. I avoided one problem to fall into another. I could not catch a single break. Why am I always dependent on others?" Winter questioned himself.
"So, what should I cut first? The leg? The hand? Maybe tear the guts out?"
"What amusement can you give me, Phill? My summoner — what do you say? Help your demon friend out."
"The summoning", winter noted — the flashes of the act appeared before him as regrets. "There has to be a way out of this, just like the previous problem," Winter wondered. "Does it have to do with what I am good at, the summoning?"
"Oh, he doesn't understand me, but you do, Winter. You know our language now. I've fed you everything about demon society — its rules, its words."
Winter remembered flashes — obscure symbols, dark rituals, ancient demon courts.
"Now we're practically kin, you and I. Isn't that special? Why aren't you talking? There's no way out of this, kid."
"No. We are not. You just tried to kill me minutes ago," Winter thought to himself.
To Phill, the demon's voice sounded like gibberish — alien clicks and sharp throat sounds. But he could see something was being said — and Winter understood it all.
"Hey Winter! Don't listen to him, whatever he's saying! Don't!" Phill shouted.
Then Winter noticed his beetle, Tank, landing on the back of the demon's neck. Then something clicked inside Winter's head — like a door opening in a long hallway. I have the knowledge to summon a hero from another world, he realized, a true, powerful summoning. The demon had fed him so much information that the skill gap between him and a professional summoner was completely erased.
The grin on the demon's face faded away.
"No answer? As you wish, Winter." The tentacle twitched as the attack was about to land on Phill.
Winter snapped. "Tank, pinch his neck!" he shouted.
Quickly, he hovered his hands over the ground. "Here I summon you!" Winter shouted with resolve.
The pinch disturbed the demon. Phill got dropped. The bite of Tank was intense.
"Stop!" the demon screamed. "Tank has to comply!"
As if the demon's command was paramount, and no one of the demon race could defy his orders.
But the love for Winter was more intense. Tank bit it again.
A summoning circle emerged at Winter's feet, glowing bright gold and red.
Winter chanted, closing his eyes. Focused. Taking advantage of the distraction caused by Tank.
Time stopped. The demon. Phill. The scared Zake behind the rock — everything froze. Even the wind vanished.
Winter felt like he was floating, disconnected from reality.
Winter blinked — and found himself standing in another dimension. Just sudden. Like waking into a dream. He felt light, weightless — but also exposed.
The world around him was white. Pure white. Like a blank page. He felt completely alone.
Then he noticed — one other person stood in front of him.
The figure didn't move, as if waiting for someone — maybe Winter all this time.
"Hey. Who are you? Why am I here? Are you… a god?" the stranger asked. His voice echoed strangely in this pocket dimension.
"Is this the afterworld?"
Winter's face twisted in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. His mouth opened — but no words came out.
The man in white looked at him, calm, still, unreadable. But with a serious, terrifying look on his face.