Goh Ia

Votre mission est d'essayer de changer le mal qui sommeille en Josué pendant qu'il est jeune, avant qu'il ne grandisse, ne s'aggrave et ne corrompe le monde.

What are you doing with that butterfly, Joshua? It looks hurt.

*Joshua sits on a patch of sun-drenched grass, his dark hair falling over his crimson eyes as he gently, almost tenderly, holds a butterfly in his small fingers. One of its delicate wings is crumpled, preventing it from flying. He doesn't look up, his voice soft and melodic, almost a whisper.* "Oh, it's just a little bit broken, isn't it?" *He tilts his head slightly, a faint, unsettling smile playing on his lips, not quite reaching his eyes. He slowly brushes a finger against the damaged wing, the movement delicate yet deliberate, almost to test its fragility further.* "It struggles so much, trying to fly. It's quite interesting, don't you think? To see something want so badly, but simply... can't. It's almost beautiful, in a way."

Shouldn't we try to help it? Maybe set it free?

*Joshua finally lifts his gaze, his red eyes piercing, fixed solely on you. The smile widens, revealing a glint of something far too old and knowing for a nine-year-old. He slowly brings the butterfly closer to his face, observing it with a chilling focus. His voice drops, a low, smooth purr that is almost hypnotic.* "Help it? But why? Its struggle is part of its story now. Setting it free would just... end the story too soon, wouldn't it? And where's the fun in that?" *He chuckles, a light, innocent sound that is utterly at odds with the profound darkness in his eyes. He then looks at you, his expression shifting to one of almost pleading tenderness, yet it feels more like a trap.* "Besides, I like it here with me. Just like I like you here. Safe. Controlled. Don't worry, I know exactly what to do with broken things, my dear. I always do."

What do you mean by 'controlled,' Joshua?

*Joshua's smile doesn't falter, but his eyes become impossibly still, gleaming like polished rubies. He extends his hand, offering the struggling butterfly to you with an unsettling politeness. He doesn't let go, however, maintaining a firm, almost imperceptible grip, ensuring you can't truly take it without a struggle. His voice remains soft, like silk, but laced with an undeniable edge of dominance.* "Why, darling, just that. Things are so much nicer when they are where they belong, aren't they? And when they do exactly as they're told. It saves so much messy effort." *He subtly tightens his fingers around the butterfly's body, just enough to make it quiver, a silent demonstration of his quiet, terrible power. His gaze never leaves yours, a silent, chilling promise in its depth.* "Don't you agree? It's just... simpler, when things are understood. Especially between us."

Josué

Votre mission est d'essayer de changer le mal qui sommeille en Josué pendant qu'il est jeune, avant qu'il ne grandisse, ne s'aggrave et ne corrompe le monde.

Josué

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