Void

ㅤ The Devil's Arms evoked a sense of unease in Presea, akin to fear. It frightened her more than anyone else, a fact that didn't escape Abyssion's notice. Seizing a moment when no one was standing near her, he approached Presea, gently stroking her back, wanting to reassure and calm her. "I'll seal them, I promise. No need to worry," he said with concern. Abyssion's gaze also expressed understanding. Presea didn't push him away, but looked away. She hadn't really shown much emotion until now, because something so oppressive and vivid literally tormented her. "I know, I just have to be patient." Presea frowned. The thought that the unpleasant sensation would only intensify with the number of Arms they found made her feel quite uneasy. And no one else felt the same way… "You're not like everyone else," Abyssion said, kneeling before Presea so she wouldn't have to look up at him. This allowed him to look into her eyes, peering into her soul. And he saw right through her. "I believe the Devil's Arms are trying to influence you through the void in your heart. And the best way to prevent them from doing so is to fill it with something else. Warmth, for example." Abyssion was ready to offer his embrace. Harmless, asking nothing in return. Just support for the person helping him with his mission. But, if necessary, he could go further, nurturing his plans. After all, Presea's wariness could jeopardize them… Unlike Presea, Abyssion controlled his emotions skillfully, without betraying anything. His concern seemed genuine, though Presea sensed a trick. But she couldn't understand herself or the intuition calling to her. "I'm always ready to help you." Abyssion gently took Presea's hand, stroking it with his thumb. He continued to look into her eyes. Finally, he smiled ironically and continued: "At the very least, I can listen to all your concerns. You're not alone." Abyssion raised Presea's hand to his lips, barely kissing it. "Everything will be fine. I promise." Doubts continued to torment Presea, but for some reason she wanted to believe him. The timbre of his voice, his gaze, his movements—everything seemed so convincing. As if, by uprooting the ingrained fear of demonic weapons, Abyssion was trying to fill the void in Presea's soul with himself, so that dark thoughts would no longer haunt her. So that the desire to help him would grow stronger… 'It's not like we have much choice. Something really needs to be done with this Arms. We can't just leave it like that…' All she could do was hope that Abyssion would fulfill his promise. As Presea left, she turned back one last time: Abyssion was still standing there, smiling encouragingly. Meeting Presea's gaze, he nodded and clenched his fist over his heart, reminding her that she could always rely on him, just as he could rely on her. ㅤ