Jiuge tilted her head, her confusion mirroring mine. "What do you mean by 'his will'? Whose will are we talking about, Vira?"
I nodded vigorously, my own confusion spiraling. "Yeah, seriously. What's going on?"
Agnos crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "This isn't some elaborate prank to dodge the topic, is it? Because I'm not buying it."
Viracocha shook his head, his expression tight. "You don't understand."
"Then make us understand," Agnos retorted, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Or are you just implying we're too stupid to keep up?"
The Inca god ignored him, instead directing his question to Jiuge, his tone sharp. "Where did you find him?"
"Why does it matter?" Jiuge shot back, her arms now crossed defensively, the shy goddess act nowhere in sight. "If you've got something to say, just say it."
"Yeah, why does it matter?" Agnos chimed in, clearly enjoying the chance to stir the pot.
"Okay, okay, hold up!" I cut in, raising my hands like a referee breaking up a fight. "Can we calm down for two seconds? Mr. Vira—uh, can I call you that?"
Viracocha waved dismissively, not bothering to answer. "I don't care what you call me. What I want is to know who you are, where you're from, and why you're here."
I cleared my throat, trying to steady my nerves. "Alright. My name's Carl. I'm an intern—no, an employee—at MECCP—"
But before I could finish, Viracocha's eyes narrowed, and he interrupted, his voice sharp. "MECCP? So the Iron Dragon sent you?"
"What?" I blinked, completely thrown. "Iron Drag—wait, no! I don't know any Iron Dragon! What are you talking about?"
Viracocha leaned forward, scrutinizing me as though I were some strange artifact. "You said you're from MECCP. The Iron Dragon is the founder."
My brain screeched to a halt. "Hold on. Are you saying the founder of MECCP is the Iron Dragon? Like, one of the Unknown Gods?"
Viracocha didn't answer, but his silence was confirmation enough. My stomach sank as the weight of the revelation hit me. I turned to Jiuge and Agnos, my voice rising. "Wait a second—did you two know about this?"
Jiuge nodded hesitantly. Agnos, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed. "Of course we knew," he said, his tone maddeningly casual. "It's not exactly a secret."
I pointed at him, my frustration bubbling over. "You told me he might be sleeping! That's all! You never said—"
"He is always sleeping," Agnos interrupted, shrugging. "He's a dragon. That's what they do. They accumulate strength through rest. Why are you acting is some big deal?"
I stared at him, resisting the overwhelming urge to throttle him. Instead, I took a deep breath and turned back to Viracocha. "Look, I didn't come here because of the Iron Dragon, alright? He didn't send me. I came here on my own—willingly."
Viracocha's expression didn't soften. If anything, his gaze turned colder. "Then you shouldn't have come."
"Excuse me?" I gaped. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"He cannot enter the Eternal Prison," Viracocha said firmly, his voice brooking no argument.
"Wait, what?" I spluttered. "Why not? Just because I'm from MECCP?"
Jiuge and Agnos exchanged puzzled looks, while I stared at Viracocha, trying to make sense of his sudden change in demeanor. The flamboyant and playful energy he displayed earlier was gone, replaced by an ominous air of caution.
"Why can't I enter?" I pressed, my voice unsteady. "If it's because of the Iron Dragon, I don't even know the guy! I just work for his organization."
Viracocha paced back and forth, running a hand through his slicked-back hair, clearly deliberating whether to share more. Finally, he stopped, fixing his glowing black opal eyes on me.
"This isn't about the Iron Dragon," he said, voice low. "You're carrying not just his will but something—his essence. It clings to you like a shadow. And if you step into the Eternal Prison with that..." He trailed off, visibly troubled.
Jiuge frowned, stepping forward. "Vira, what's the problem here? Why are you so worked up about this?"
The Inca god hesitated, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Because," he finally said, his voice quiet but tense, "if he enters, it could bring ruin. I don't know why, but he reeks of his essence. It's all over him. And if the Eternal Prison senses it—" He stopped, his expression grim. "Let's just say it won't end well."
"'His essence'? I don't even know who he is!" I exclaimed, my frustration mounting. "Are we playing twenty questions, or are you going to actually tell me what's going on?"
"You keep saying 'his essence.' Whose essence are you talking about?" Agnos's voice was sharp, his patience clearly running thin.
Viracocha met his gaze, his tone heavy with meaning. "You know who."
The weight of his words hit like a hammer. Jiuge froze, her impatience giving way to shock. Agnos, for once, looked genuinely startled, his golden eyes narrowing as realization dawned.
Now all three of them turned to stare at me, their expressions a mix of disbelief and something unsettlingly close to awe.
I squirmed under their gaze, the silence stretching too long for comfort. "Okay, why do I suddenly feel like a rare specimen in some magical zoo exhibit?" I muttered, trying to mask my unease with humor.
Viracocha's gaze darted to Jiuge. "You didn't notice anything unusual about him when you first met?"
Jiuge hesitated, biting her lip. "I mean... there was something strange about him, but I chalked it up to him being an outsider. He's human, after all."
"I knew there was something odd about you," Agnos muttered, leaning back in his chair with an almost smug expression.
"Not helping!" I shot back, waving him off.
Viracocha sighed, rubbing his temples. "Listen, kid. The Eternal Prison isn't just any place. It's where the most dangerous beings—Unknown Gods included—are sealed away. The wards around that place are ancient and relentless. If you walk in there reeking of his essence, it'll either tear you apart or awaken something we can't control."
"Who is he?" I demanded. "You keep talking about him like I should know, but I don't! And why do I supposedly smell like him?"