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‘Agh... Hector...’

“Garovel!”

The reaper just hovered there, the gash clear as day and smoldering.

“We’re leaving.” He vainly tried to take the reaper’s arm, phasing through it like smoke. “Dammit, we have to...! You have to follow me, Garovel!”

‘The children...’

“They aren’t here,” he said. “They must be with Colt. We have to get out of here.”

‘Alright, just... listen.’

“I swear to goddess, if you tell me to leave without you...!”

‘No... but I can’t move. I need you to... carry me.’

“Fine, fine. How?”

‘I have to attach myself to your soul... Come closer.’

“Okay. Do it.”

Immediately, Hector’s body felt stranger. Everything had a dull ache to it, and his strength diminished. He could feel the reaper’s presence, he realized, like a cloud hanging over his shoulders, dark and familiar... and weak.

‘Go quickly...’

He ran. He chose the closest elevator, but when the door didn’t open as soon as he hit the button, he moved to the next. The fifth attempt yielded immediate results, and he rode the small lift up in silence, listening intently for sounds of pursuit.

The door opened again, and he found himself in a closet, which led into the back of a drugstore. No one was around, as it was still the middle of the night. He slid over the counter and made his way outside. With no key to lock the door again behind him, he felt a bit bad about it but had to leave and hope no one took the opportunity to rob the place. Then again, the store was involved with Rofal, so maybe it deserved it.