Without a doubt, the moment Lynn heard those words, he knew his dear Feather Pen had agreed.
Feather Pen was still as softhearted and kind as ever.
She could not bear to see a lost young man like him wandering without direction.
Just like a little child, he could only get better with a big sister's warm hugs and kisses, only then become stronger and sunnier.
Gurgle, gurgle-
Lynn closed his eyes, feeling the breeze and coolness in the room.
To ordinary people, that thick, squirming sound might indeed have been chilling and hair-raising, but to Lynn, it was the sweetest music imaginable.
He felt that sticky touch.
He knew.
Feather Pen's true form had arrived.
Perhaps if he opened his eyes right then, he would see that twisted, misshapen Nameless Horror sharing his bed. At any time, that would absolutely qualify as a mysterious encounter of the third kind worthy of a collection of bizarre tales, yet Lynn felt warm instead, because his mother had taught him from childhood to get close to nature and embrace his fate.
And now... he had done all of it.
Lynn hugged her without hesitation.
"Thank you."
But that cold, sticky sensation did not last long, and the sense of deformity and distortion soon faded amid waves of light.
Lynn had not used Mimicry or Remnants of the Past.
Feather Pen had made all those changes herself.
Because even for something like a hug.
The pure, ethereal Goddess of Fate would never let herself remain in that hideous, grotesque form. Perhaps it was only an illusion, but that illusion of the past was filled with tender love and care for Lynn, this lost child. Though he could indeed be terribly improper at times, that was only what showed on the surface. Deep down,