Maruki's expression flickers again, expressing a sense of hopelessness at what he's just witnessed. "I have not hurt her in any single way," he tries to say, but the trembling suddenly disrupts his speech, causing him to wobble as the shadow pierces his words with icy needles of doubt and pain.
"Every part of me, you emptied out and you filled with yourself."
"Shut up," He mutters under his breath, his voice seething with barely controlled rage, as he steps forward, the weight of his conviction forcing him to take control.
His body suddenly seems to tremble with the power rising within him—his pupils dilating into two perfect golden orbs, an ominous glow burning through his eyes as he spreads his arms, summoning the power within. The gold rings flare with a harsh light, the symbols of his authority over cognition and reality—only, this time, they don’t flicker. They pulse.
The black tentacles whip toward him, but Maruki's response is fast and deadly. With a sharp, forceful motion, he slaps them aside, not just with physical strength, but with the weight of his mind behind every movement.
"You are too foolish to understand," he grinds out, his voice low and dangerous, "Too foolish to realize that such minor things—"
His words falter.
And then, his breath catches, his right pupil flashing gold with irritation. His head jerks, eyes darting upward as a voice—no, an entity—interrupts him. Maruki’s entire body tenses, his mind snapping back to reality, his grip on the situation beginning to fray.
"Azathoth, what the hell are you doing?!" Maruki screams, his voice raw with frustration. His fingers run through his hair, undoing the neatness of his appearance as he violently tugs at the strands. The sleek, controlled image he so carefully cultivated shatters in an instant, as wild strands spill from the sides of his head, making him look unhinged. His voice is laced with anger, but it’s not directed at the poor Shadow in front of him. No—he's speaking directly to the golden bead that stands to his natural brown gaze, that persistent, pulsing presence that nestles within and beside him. The voice in his head. Azathoth.
"You know, Takuto," The voice spills through his mouth that the shadow can hear him. "You’re more than capable of so much more. You’ve always been mine to command. Let me show you how powerful you truly are."
Maruki’s hands tremble at his sides, but his voice remains steely, though strained.
“No.” He spits the word out like venom. "You will never take over my body.Help me- don't use me.”
Azathoth’s voice grows quieter, almost a murmur of doubt.
"You can’t fight it forever. Why not embrace it? Why struggle against what’s meant to be?"
Maruki’s eyes narrow, his body stiffening as the golden eye flares again, its light burning with intense clarity.
“Stay. In. Your. Lane.”
The pulse of gold dims, the pressure inside him dissipating as Azathoth recoils, retreating back into the recesses of Maruki’s mind. The golden eye flickers out of existence, leaving only the shadow of its presence.
With a final, shaky breath, Maruki steadies himself, hands clenched at his sides. He looks ahead, the oppressive weight of Azathoth’s influence gone—for now. Turning his attention back to the trembling Shadow, Maruki’s voice becomes measured again, though it’s tinged with undeniable weariness.
"No words of mine is going to reach you. Not like this," he says firmly, brushing off the Shadow’s earlier remarks. The anger still lingers in his voice, but there's a certain coldness to it now, a detachment. The words that once might have stung, now feel insignificant to him. "You're wasting my time. Get out of my way- now."
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"Every part of me, you emptied out and you filled with yourself."
His body suddenly seems to tremble with the power rising within him—his pupils dilating into two perfect golden orbs, an ominous glow burning through his eyes as he spreads his arms, summoning the power within. The gold rings flare with a harsh light, the symbols of his authority over cognition and reality—only, this time, they don’t flicker. They pulse.
The black tentacles whip toward him, but Maruki's response is fast and deadly. With a sharp, forceful motion, he slaps them aside, not just with physical strength, but with the weight of his mind behind every movement.
"You are too foolish to understand," he grinds out, his voice low and dangerous, "Too foolish to realize that such minor things—"
His words falter.
And then, his breath catches, his right pupil flashing gold with irritation. His head jerks, eyes darting upward as a voice—no, an entity—interrupts him. Maruki’s entire body tenses, his mind snapping back to reality, his grip on the situation beginning to fray.
"Azathoth, what the hell are you doing?!" Maruki screams, his voice raw with frustration. His fingers run through his hair, undoing the neatness of his appearance as he violently tugs at the strands. The sleek, controlled image he so carefully cultivated shatters in an instant, as wild strands spill from the sides of his head, making him look unhinged.
His voice is laced with anger, but it’s not directed at the poor Shadow in front of him. No—he's speaking directly to the golden bead that stands to his natural brown gaze, that persistent, pulsing presence that nestles within and beside him. The voice in his head. Azathoth.
"You know, Takuto," The voice spills through his mouth that the shadow can hear him. "You’re more than capable of so much more. You’ve always been mine to command. Let me show you how powerful you truly are."
Maruki’s hands tremble at his sides, but his voice remains steely, though strained.
“No.” He spits the word out like venom. "You will never take over my body.Help me- don't use me.”
Azathoth’s voice grows quieter, almost a murmur of doubt.
"You can’t fight it forever. Why not embrace it? Why struggle against what’s meant to be?"
Maruki’s eyes narrow, his body stiffening as the golden eye flares again, its light burning with intense clarity.
“Stay. In. Your. Lane.”
The pulse of gold dims, the pressure inside him dissipating as Azathoth recoils, retreating back into the recesses of Maruki’s mind. The golden eye flickers out of existence, leaving only the shadow of its presence.
With a final, shaky breath, Maruki steadies himself, hands clenched at his sides. He looks ahead, the oppressive weight of Azathoth’s influence gone—for now.
Turning his attention back to the trembling Shadow, Maruki’s voice becomes measured again, though it’s tinged with undeniable weariness.
"No words of mine is going to reach you. Not like this," he says firmly, brushing off the Shadow’s earlier remarks. The anger still lingers in his voice, but there's a certain coldness to it now, a detachment. The words that once might have stung, now feel insignificant to him. "You're wasting my time. Get out of my way- now."