Minotaur and Baphomet had originally been locked in fierce combat, but the sudden upheaval of their surroundings left them momentarily dazed. By the time they came to their senses and prepared to strike back at the floating ice, a laugh that made their hair stand on end from the depths of their souls, accompanied by a bizarre little tune, drifted into their ears.
"Who could you be? Today is special. Everyone has put on a mask..."
Ding, ding, ding—there seemed to be the crisp metallic clinking of a music box turning.
Minotaur abruptly raised his head and looked toward the source overhead.
He could not make out its full form. High in the sky, he could only see a white doll's head, like a child leaning over a table and looking down. Its mouth remained stretched into a bizarre curve as it sang a chilling nursery rhyme.
"Who could you be? Your mask is a bull's head, my mask is a black shadow..."
"Who could you be? Chop off your mask with an axe and let me see the true face behind the bloody shadow."
At first, the two archdemons could still control their own movements. But as the lyrics changed, they discovered that every part of their bodies seemed to have been bound by threads, forced to dance along with the white doll above.
Baphomet raised the great axe in his hand and stared at Minotaur with scarlet eyes. "I can't control myself. Get out of the way!"
But as soon as he spoke, another bizarre string of syllables emerged from his throat. They had a bouncing rhythm, popping out one by one. "Who could you be? Let me see your true face."
Minotaur could not move either. He could only watch helplessly as Baphomet's giant axe cleaved toward