No one really understands why Kaleon's essence triggers Emperor War Beasts into a frothing state of primal fury. All I know is what I've been told—that these ancient monsters were exposed to it deliberately, as part of some divine contingency plan to prevent Kaleon from ever returning to the Eternal Prison.
A safeguard. A trap. Or a cruel cosmic joke, depending on how you look at it.
And now here I was, lying on the cold stone floor, practically marinated in a trace of Kaleon's aura thanks to the pendant pressed against my chest—an aura that, even diluted and fused with my own, was enough to rouse the worst.
Pazuzu was snarling beside me, each growl low and seismic, like tectonic plates shifting with rage. He kept himself curled around me like a living barricade, shielding me from what we both knew was coming.
And the others? The three gods who'd faced down disasters and demigods alike?
Flattened.
Agnos, Jiuge, Heim—pinned to the ground, limbs trembling, faces strained under the sheer weight of divine pressure. If they couldn't move, I sure as hell didn't stand a chance.
The voice thundered again, closer this time. Wrathful. Echoing with divine indictment.
"Kaleon! You dare come here to this place!"
It wasn't a question. It was an accusation—accusation forged from centuries of hatred.
I struggled to move, my vision swimming. Slowly, I turned my head, just enough to catch a glimpse past Pazuzu's flank, through the swirling wind shield that kept us barely insulated.
Something was forming in midair.
An apparition, cloaked in darkness and stormlight, began to solidify at the far end of the cavern—floating, pulsing with magic. I braced for a monstrosity: fangs, wings, talons, eldritch horror. You know, standard nightmare fuel.
Instead... a mouse.
A literal mouse. Floating midair.
It hovered inside the eye of the storm like some sort of divine hallucination. Tiny. Snow white. Its ears round like polished stones. Eyes crimson and glowing with malice. It didn't move much. It didn't need to.
Pazuzu hissed, stepping protectively between us. The tension in his coiled muscles told me one thing: he wasn't growling for show.
I squinted.
"A mouse?" I croaked, voice cracking under the pressure. "What is this... an escape lab rat with a god complex?"
The mouse's beady red eyes flicked toward me. And in that split second, I realized something unsettling:
It heard me.
It understood me.
And worse—it was offended.
"A mouse? You dare mock this king!" the creature thundered, voice shaking the cavern walls like a divine drumbeat.
Its crimson eyes swept the room, burning through the darkness as it searched for the one bold—or stupid—enough to insult it outright.
Then it found me.
Its expression flickered—first surprise, then confusion. A pause. A blink. And then, just like that, fury reclaimed its tiny face.
Before I could blink again, it vanished—no dramatic puff of smoke, no magical glyphs—just gone from one spot and there in the next, hovering directly in front of me like a spectral judge.
I didn't dare move. Not because I didn't want to, but because my face was still unceremoniously smooshed against the cold stone floor, my limbs numb from the divine pressure blanketing the room.
Its nose twitched. Its gaze sharpened.
"Wait… you," it said, voice low now, almost analytical. "Why does a mortal carry Kaleon's scent? What are you?"
"Erm… hello. I'm Carl," I said awkwardly, my words slightly muffled by the floor.
The mouse tilted its head. "A Carl? What kind of race is that?"
"No, no, not a race," I tried to clarify, mumbling fast before it turned me into ash. "That's just… my name. My name is Carl."
It blinked. Hard.
I could almost hear its brain stutter.
For a moment, all was still. The only sound was Pazuzu's low, vibrating growl beside me and the faint buzz of tension sparking through the stormshield.
The mouse narrowed its eyes.
"I did not ask for your name, mortal," it snapped, voice laced with growing irritation. "I asked what you are. Why do you carry Kaleon's scent in your being?"
Its red eyes bore into me like searing lasers, demanding an answer my brain wasn't prepared to provide.
What am I?
My mind scrambled. Was this mouse actually blind? I was clearly human—or at least, I thought I was. Two legs. One head. Average intelligence. Mild trauma.
"I'm…" I began slowly, trying not to sound like a complete idiot while still fully aware my cheek was still stuck to the freezing cavern floor.
"…a zoologist?" I offered.
There was a pause. A long, deafening pause—punctuated only by Pazuzu's low growl and the high-stakes absurdity of what just left my mouth.
Honestly? Given the cosmic scale of the moment… that was the best I had.
Pazuzu snarled and bared his fangs, a hulking wall of fury ready to tear worlds apart—but it was all for nothing. No matter how violently he lunged, how thunderously he growled, he couldn't get close.
The mouse didn't flinch.
It stood its ground—small, unbothered, disturbingly calm. Its crimson eyes never left me, as if I were some cryptic riddle it was determined to solve. Or maybe it was calculating the fastest way to erase me from existence.
Either way, the tension thickened. I was sweating through my clothes. My gut twisted with nausea under the crushing pressure saturating the cavern. Every breath burned. Every heartbeat felt like it might be my last.
The mouse began circling me.
Pazuzu struck again, jaws snapping at blinding speed—but missed. Again. And again.
The mouse didn't even dodge. It simply swatted him aside with its tail, dismissive, like Pazuzu was no more than an annoying mosquito buzzing near its ear.
"Stand down, Pazuzu," the mouse warned coldly, "or I will kill this Carl."
The threat hit like a hammer. Pazuzu froze, his body taut with fury and indecision. Then, with a guttural snarl, he reluctantly lowered his stance—but his eyes never left the mouse, gleaming with barely restrained violence.
And just when I thought things couldn't get worse—it sniffed me.
Again.
Oh for the love of—!
"Hey—hey! Could you not sniff me?!" I blurted out, trying to recoil despite being pinned to the ground. "I feel violated! This is, like, the fourth time!"
The mouse blinked, unamused. Then its eyes widened with realization.
"Fascinating," it muttered, stepping back slightly. "You not only carry a subtle trace of Kaleon's essence… but you've formed a soul link with Pazuzu."
It studied me for a beat longer, its voice laced with incredulity.
"And yet… you're just a weak, insignificant mortal."
Great. Another magical creature hellbent on destroying what little confidence I had left.
"Okay, wow—thanks for the ego boost," I said dryly. "And for the record, I know I'm not a god. No need to rub it in. Anyway... who are you?"
The pressure that had been pinning me to the ground dissipated all at once, like a vice unclenching around my ribs. I took in a shaky breath and sat up, wincing as I rubbed my sore cheek.
The mouse—still absurdly tiny despite its god-tier intimidation tactics—was now watching me with curious eyes, its little claws stroking its chin like a miniature philosopher. Its tail swished lazily behind it.
It smirked—but didn't answer my question.
"Is it because you're a zoologist?" it asked instead, tilting its head. "Is that some sort of special ability? Is that why you were able to tame Pazuzu?"
I squinted at it. "Zoology isn't a superpower. It's a profession. A field of study. A—okay, maybe technically it's a skill? Wait, no—that's not the point. You're dodging the question."
"Oh?" The mouse raised a brow—well, whatever the mouse equivalent of that is—and grinned. "And why exactly should I answer to you?"
"Fine," I said, shrugging with mock casualness. "Keep your secrets. Mind if I just call you Little Mouse, then?"
The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. The air thickened. The mouse froze.
Its red eyes flared like burning coals.
"Mouse?" it hissed, voice dripping with disdain. "You dare call me a mouse?"
Its fury reignited like wildfire.
"You want to know who I am?" it growled, its voice suddenly thunderous, echoing off the stone walls as the oppressive pressure returned with a vengeance. My knees buckled beneath the weight, and I collapsed face-first into the dirt for the second time that day.
"Listen closely, human," it snarled. "I am no mere rodent. I am the one who rules the primal bloodlines. The one all beasts obey. The King of the animal zodiac—the Rat King Nico."