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…………..Erika Kruppman opens her eyes
and those feel much, much heavier than usual.
???: The process has concluded successfully.
Groggy, she lets herself waste some seconds to put it all together. Right, right… It’s still that room, that planetarium library in the middle of nowhere, so she’s still captive at the Order of the End’s secret base. And the Relay still works. And that’s the Toymaker. And that’s… over there, that’s…
Erika Kruppman.
Erika’s shocked gasp never happens. When she touches her mouth and finds nothing there, Erika sees that her fingers are made of wood and that her hands are those of a life-sized mannequin. Stuck in a nightmare, she tries to run away- but wooden chains are holding her down to a fancy wooden throne.
◙ The Toymaker: Do not worry, Erika Kruppman. The situation is not as dire as it seems.
Like ultrafuck it isn’t! Erika tries to scream, but nothing comes out. She doesn’t even feel her lungs to begin with. Her struggle is put to a halt when she hears something dragged across the floor, scratching the tiles as it gets closer-
and it’s a mirror, in which an oversized marionette is tied to a chair. Frozen, Erika just stares at it, her mind burning with implications.
◙ The Toymaker: I apologize if the process of becoming self-aware is challenging your suffering threshold. Regardless, Erika Kruppman, I’m sure you will thank me for this.
It’s, of course, ‘Fuck You’ the first thing to go through Erika’s high-class mind- but it stays there and cannot escape it.
◙ The Toymaker: I, too, consider this Bird Call to be invalid- yet I can neither break you out nor stop the production of your Friends, which are sure to turn the tide of battle.
An army of Toys with omniscience… the very thought sends shivers down Erika’s wooden spine, letting her know she can feel just right yet.
◙ The Toymaker: Therefore, I have transferred your mind and Soul Gem to this design, identical to those to come, so that you may interfere with Faction Leader Hush’s plans- who is a heretic to our sacred Order.
Being wood is making it hard to focus or care about anything else, but then the mirror catches her eyes. The marionette she inhabits right now, despite it all, is indeed an object of beauty. It has no mouth or nose or features except yet its two eyes are quite big, two simple shiny stones of a very deep and complex blue, and her long blonde hair, now turned into a simple cloak falling from her head, had remained. The neck is longer, the arms are longer, the legs are longer- and its short but wide dress is made of nothing but the pages of books.
With a clank, Erika hears the chains hit the ground. Standing in front of the Toymaker, the, perhaps, single most important asset of the Order of the End, the living marionette is still stuck in place despite not being chained
