The path is full of walls and yawning chasms, some of them originating from Jade. At least one is from Eichel. And no matter how deep he goes, the footsteps follow.

You can't fucking hide from me. This is mine. He's mine. A laugh, the heat of it tangible on the back of Eichel's neck.

Eventually, around when Heine's memories should melt into childhood, the sounds of running and hoarse laughter that have been behind Eichel catch up to him. Suddenly they're all around, swallowing him just as a period of blank darkness wraps around a young Heine who had been surrounded by other children and a smell of copper.

Now listen up. The powerful weight of its voice is stronger this time. I've got a couple of rules, for me and my master.