"Wizet..." Draco seemed to be searching for reassurance. "Can you see it? Can you see that eye?"
He suddenly realized something. After hesitating, he still asked, "You can't see that eye, can you?"
Wizet nodded. "I only have a strong feeling of being watched, but I can't see anything."
"Draco, would you mind letting me look at your memories? I want to know exactly what you saw."
"Of course!" Draco nodded repeatedly. "What should I do?"
Wizet raised his wand. "Just relax. Don't resist my mental magic."
The process of drawing out the memory went more smoothly than expected. As Wizet raised his arm, the wand followed its movement and drew out a silver thread.
The other end of that silver thread remained connected to Draco's temple.
With a flick of his wrist, the silver thread clinging to the tip of Wizet's wand drifted upward, spreading into something like mist. It rapidly gathered and solidified in midair, forming a floating silver sphere.
That was the image Draco had seen.
The moon, which had looked like a silver disk, now had blurred edges, as though it were wrapped in viscous, translucent gel.
As if it possessed life, it transformed into a gigantic eyeball stripped of its eyelids, pulsing along with the gel surrounding it in grotesque spasms.
The shadows of the craters, which should have been yellowish-gray, now twisted and converged toward the center of the moon, forming a deep blotch like a pupil.
That enormous "eyeball" no longer cast down gentle moonlight. Instead, it poured forth something cold, like a gaze.
This was the source of what Wizet had sensed earlier. The moon now resembled a huge, cold, emotionless eyeball.
The moonlight that should have spilled across the world had become a bone-chilling, icy stare.
"I can see this creepy