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Gil stays. Richard steers the point of the Not Sword to rest against his chest. "Can you feel this?" he says.
"...No."
"A good start. Then, Charlie, this is all we're going to do." He applies force to the vile hilt, driving its point— you can't look— driving its point into Gil's chest. There's a squish sound, like stabbing mud or a wad of pond scum. No screams. "Can you feel that?" he asks again.
"Um..." Gil says. "I-I-I mean, I feel something, but it doesn't... hurt. If that's what you meant."
"It was, thank you." Hand atop yours, Richard waggles the Not Sword back and forth, widening and deepening the incision. Then he withdraws. "That should be sufficient. Would you like to retrieve the sample, Charlie?"
You swallow down some mucus. "What?"
"Reach in and grab a handful. Take it out."
Not the most sanitary. Or couth. But it's the least likely to go horribly, terribly wrong, and you can't let Richard do everything for you (what would Gil think?), which is how you find yourself a little more than wrist deep in Gil. He is runny inside, except for the big round things, which you take into your hand and snatch out from him. Safely outside, you unfold your palm to find a smear of bluey-pink gak and five or six still, sopping beetles.
"Oh, fuck," says Gil, and grabs them from you without asking. "Oh, shit, I-I-I— ohhh— oh!"
One beetle has moved. The rest follow suit, slowly, waving their legs and antennae, flipping onto their black bellies. Gil breathes a great sigh. "I-I'm still here."
"You are in them, I presume," says Richard. "Good! I wonder if you might attempt to alter your state again?"
"What?" Gil cups his hand over the beetles. "I-I-It's still not going to—"
"I think you underestimate yourself, Mr. Wallace."
"...Uh..." Gil shoots a desperate look at you. You shrug. "...I-I-I mean... one more time, okay? And then you have to shut up about it. I-I told you, I'll survive just fine as..."
He trails off and shuts his eyes again. Trapped in his hand, the beetles take flight— or that's what it sounds like, at least, with the buzzing. Buzz. Buzz. More boils. It stagnates there, just like last time, and you think Richard overplayed his hand—
—then Gil draws himself up, suddenly, and snaps open scalding blue eyes, and there's a second where you see a vast, sudden melting: the collapse of a hollow candle. Then blue light consumes him, and you, and your ears sting and eyes ring until just as suddenly it's gone. There's about 400 beetles hovering there.
"What the <span class="mu-i">fuck?</span>" they say.
"Fascinating," Richard says reflexively.
You wipe your eyes once and for all and straighten up. "What do you mean, what the... eff? You magycked yourself. Duh."
(5/6)
