As I clicked the question mark, my heart thudded violently in my chest. I waited—anticipating a reaction, a response, something—but nothing happened. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Then the pain hit.
It tore through me like a sudden bolt of lightning. No, worse—it felt as though my skin were being stripped away, my body stretched beyond its limits. The agony was overwhelming. I wanted to scream, to thrash, to prove that this was real and not some twisted dream. Make it stop, I begged in my mind, but my plea was answered only by the crushing weight of my own silent terror.
Then a presence emerged.
Not a voice—not truly—but a thought that wasn't mine, echoing inside my head. It urged me to ravage this world, to rule it, to make all kneel before me and abandon every trace of humanity I still clung to. I was desperate. I wanted to reach out, to grasp that thought if it meant the pain would end.
But something held me back.
An intuition—quiet yet firm—warned me to stop. To endure. To bear the pain until the end.
I froze, resisting the pull of that darkness.
And then, suddenly, everything vanished. The pain, the fear, the silent screams—all gone, like wind passing through an empty space. I stood there, shaken and confused, when a chime echoed in my mind.
Congratulations, Host. You have completed the requirements for a new role.
Before I could react, it continued.
Congratulations on becoming a Watcher—one of the unfortunate engulfed by the Csallex Virus.
"Oh," I muttered.
Then realization struck.
"…Huh?!"