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‘Yeah. Anywhere but my center, and you won’t hurt me.’

‘You’re sure about this...?’

‘Duh.’

‘A-alright...’

‘Don’t hold back. This is important, Hector. If you don’t learn this properly, we are both going to die. You understand? The only way to really stop a servant is to kill the reaper, and reapers can’t even touch each other, so it has to be you. Sooner or later, we will find ourselves in that situation, and if you can’t kill them, they will kill us. There is no doubt here.’

Hector nodded slowly. ‘Okay. I, ah... I won’t...’

Garovel’s brow lowered. ‘Excuse me? You won’t? Hector, what the--’

‘N-no, I meant, ah... I won’t let anyone kill you. I’ll protect you. Definitely.’

For a moment, the reaper just looked at him. ‘Well, prove it, then.’ He held out his skeletal hand.

Hector gathered his focus again. He envisioned the presence in his hand again. Determination colored everything in his mind. This had to work. Garovel’s life depended on it. He felt the massless weight, stronger than before. He threw the punch.

Garovel’s hand obliterated on impact. The reaper reeled back. ‘Agh, fuck! You asshole!’

‘Oh, shit! I’m sorry!’

‘Only joking.’

‘Agh, wha...?’

‘That was better, though. Good job. You’ve pretty much got it down, already, but you should keep practicing until it becomes second nature.’

‘You dick...! I really thought I hurt you!’

‘Oh, c’mon, that was funny.’

‘But your hand is gone! How does that not hurt?!’

‘Yeah, about that, um. It’ll grow back. And I don’t really feel pain. At least, not in the same way you do. It’s more like an extreme unease. It’s painful in the same way that a sudden surge of anxiety or fear is painful.’