With a casual tug, Lin Chuan pulled Amon's phantom into his hand, where it became a tiny, translucent worm with twelve rings.
He extracted it without killing it.
That's us Tricksters for you. Raw power? Check. Special mechanics? Check. Our impossible abilities are downright underhanded.
Other Tricksters can't do it because they're bad at it. The great Faceless One can. They should take a good, hard look at themselves.
Lin Chuan did not stop there. He pinched the Worm of Time between two fingers and gently kneaded it-it felt decent enough.
At least it was not quite the enormous monstrosity he had imagined earlier. Perhaps that was down to its appearance?
Come to think of it... how would it taste?
Lin Chuan studied Amon thoughtfully. Watching him wriggle in his palm, he could not bear to leave the esteemed Angel of Time exposed like this, without a shred of privacy.
So he pressed his right hand to his left breast and prayed devoutly:
"I wish to change back into my original clothes."
"I wish for the monster's corpse before me to disappear."
"I wish for a raven to appear here and be successfully parasitized by the Amon in my hand."
Snap!
Lin Chuan snapped his fingers, granting his own three modest wishes.
And so, the Amon avatar here-or simply Amon, for that matter-
Watched with his own eyes as a... Trickster with black hair, black eyes, and elven features, yet dressed in the same white robes as a certain paranoid man, stuffed him into the raven.
The raven awoke.
He immediately beat his wings and flew out of Lin Chuan's palm, then circled the sealed room in bewilderment.
Lin Chuan remained still, smiling as he watched the little white-ringed raven make several futile circuits before finally landing helplessly on a