Under the gaze of those scarlet eyes, as beautiful as rubies, Emlyn, the Moon, immediately felt himself sinking into an exquisite fantasy.
He forgot that the body before him, with its fair, translucent skin and emerging feminine features, had been a dismembered, swollen, rotting corpse not long ago. Instead, he felt that it was exactly what he had always wanted: a flawless articulated doll, the dream companion whose flaws of moving and speaking he could actually tolerate!
And it—no, she—looked at me first. She likes me too... The misconception had barely surfaced in Emlyn's mind when he noticed that those eyes were not fixed on him, but on the Mother card he held up. The gaze lingered on the pregnant Roselle's swollen belly, as though trying to pierce the card and enter another space.
In an instant, madness and chaos flooded the previously emotionless eyes. The breathtakingly beautiful face twisted with pain and resentment. The slightly parted mouth, which had revealed white teeth, opened wide and let out a piercing roar in ancient Jotun, its voice somewhere between male and female:
"Omebella!
"I curse you!"
Omebella? Wasn't that the identity the Ancestor once assumed—the Giant Queen of an ancient epoch, the Goddess of Harvest?
With the matter touching upon the Sanguine Ancestor, Emlyn finally broke free of his fantasy, and a trace of wariness entered his gaze as he looked at Zedus.
The roar had clearly carried hatred. Whether directed at Omebella or the present Earth Mother, it was no good thing.
Still, he was not overly nervous. After all, there were four angels here, along with two Sequence 3 Saints—himself and Mr. Hanged Man. Although the corpse before them had revived and even become somewhat adorable, it had no Beyonder characteristics. How powerful could it possibly be?
He was