Zagreus, who had been standing a few steps behind him, tilted his head.
"You heard something?"
"Yes. A voice."
Zagreus didn't seem alarmed.
"Don't worry about it. What you heard was from a broken soul. Sometimes, fragments like that retain echoes of their old selves. It's just bits of memory, and reflexes. They speak without really being aware."
Nameless Death looked at the flame again.
He could tell it had no Seed of Existence or Core inside it.
Just as Zagreus said, it wasn't alive, not anymore. It was only a piece of something that used to be.
He took a slow breath and stepped forward again.
This time, he moved carefully, letting his fingers hover above the flame for a few seconds before lowering his hand into it again.
The fire accepted him quietly.
And the voice returned. It was smoother now, and more coherent.
"Neo… what happened to you? Why are you so injured?"
Despite being prepared, the voice caught him off guard. It was too warm, and soothing.
