---
The silence was almost unbearable.
Not because it was threatening.
Because it was unfamiliar.
For three weeks he had listened to Drip Drip Drip in darkness. Then he had listened to screams and fighting and system notifications. Even last night had been full of snarls and howls.
Now there was only water, wind, and the soft hum of insects.
Sekhmet closed his eyes.
For a moment, he let himself pretend he was somewhere else. Somewhere normal. Somewhere with laughter and warm food and a bed that did not try to kill him.
Then he remembered where he was, and the illusion shattered.
He sat up again and scrubbed harder, as if he could wash the memory off his skin.
Red faded from his hands. Blood loosened from under his nails. The water around him became a faintly pink halo drifting outward.
Sekhmet frowned at it.
He should have known peace would not last.
The lake was small. The creatures that lived here would notice disturbance quickly.
He was almost finished. His skin felt cleaner, his hair less heavy. He splashed water over his shoulders one more time.
Splash...
And then something moved under the surface.
A ripple.
Not wind.
A ripple that traveled against the natural flow.
Sekhmet froze.
His eyes narrowed.
The water ahead bulged upward slightly, like something big had inhaled beneath it.
Bloop...
Sekhmet slowly backed toward the shore, careful not to panic, careful not to thrash and draw attention.
Then a head popped out.
Plop!
A frog’s head.
Only it was not a normal frog head.
It was the size of a human head, green and slick, with bulging yellow eyes and a mouth wide enough to swallow a chicken whole. It blinked once, stared at Sekhmet’s naked human form, then stared at the red-stained water spreading around him.
The frog head’s expression changed.
It became deeply offended about it.
The head rose higher.
A neck appeared.
Then shoulders.
Then arms.
It was a frog beast shaped like a humanoid, wet and slimy, with long limbs and a chest that looked like it had been sculpted from a swamp. It wore a necklace made of fish bones and what might have been someone’s finger bones, but the aesthetic was so ugly it felt more like a crime than fashion.
The creature opened its mouth.
And screamed.
"RIBBIT—WHAT IS THIS?"
Sekhmet blinked.
The frog beast slapped the water with one webbed hand.
Splash!
"THIS IS MY HOME," it shouted, voice echoing off the lake hollow. "MY PRIVATE LAKE. MY PERSONAL GLORIOUS WET PALACE."
Sekhmet stared at it, stunned.
The frog beast’s eyes bulged harder, as if it was trying to physically force Sekhmet to feel shame.
"AND YOU," it continued, pointing dramatically, "YOU HAVE BROUGHT FILTH INTO IT."
Sekhmet glanced down at the faint pink water around him, then backed up.
"You live in a lake," Sekhmet said slowly. "A lake. In purgatory. Do you not... already have filth."
The frog beast gasped as if Sekhmet had slapped its ancestors.
"HOW DARE YOU," it croaked. "THIS LAKE IS HIGH CLASS. THIS LAKE IS LUXURY. THIS LAKE IS—"
It sniffed the water and recoiled.
It gagged.
"—BLOOD," it croaked in horror. "YOU HAVE PUT BLOOD IN MY LAKE."
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.
"I did not do it on purpose," he said, voice flat. "I am washing."
The frog beast shook its head violently, droplets flying.
"NO EXCUSE," it shrieked. "YOU ARE A WALKING DISASTER. YOU ARE A DIRTY TWO-LEGGED PROBLEM. YOU ARE—"
It leaned forward, squinting at Sekhmet.
"Naked," it said with sudden disgust. "WHY ARE YOU NAKED IN MY LAKE?"
Sekhmet’s jaw tightened.
"I am bathing," he said, voice colder. "That is what people do in water."
The frog beast slapped the water again, sending a wave toward Sekhmet.
Splash!
"PEOPLE DO NOT BATHE IN MY LAKE," it yelled. "PEOPLE ASK PERMISSION. PEOPLE PAY RENT. PEOPLE—"
Sekhmet sighed.
He had woken up. He had found water. He had started feeling human again. And now a frog monster was screaming at him like a landlord with no property rights.
He was not in the mood.
He activated Blood Eye.
The world sharpened slightly. Information unfolded.
[System notification- Frog Lake Beast.
Species: Mire Croaker Guardian Battle Power: 2000
Status: Angry. Territorial. Dramatic.
Note: Water-aligned chaos body. Weakness to dehydration and blood contamination.]
Sekhmet stared at the words.
Territorial. Dramatic.
He almost smiled.
So the system can be sarcastic too.
The frog beast saw Sekhmet’s eyes narrow and took it as an insult.
"DO NOT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT," it screamed. "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO DIRTY MY HOME. YOU MUST APOLOGIZE."
Sekhmet’s voice came out tired.
"I am sorry," he said, with absolutely no sincerity.
The frog beast narrowed its eyes suspiciously.
"That apology had no emotion," it said.
"I am tired," Sekhmet replied. "My emotions are on break."
The frog beast puffed up, chest swelling like a balloon.
"THEN I WILL TAKE PAYMENT IN BLOOD," it croaked.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.
"No," he said.
The frog beast’s arms spread wide.
"YES," it croaked loudly, as if volume could rewrite reality. "I WILL TAKE YOUR CHAOS STONES. YOUR WEAPON. YOUR—"
Its eyes flicked to the rock where Sekhmet’s coat sat.
"And your tiny red bat," it added. "That is a strange snack."
The bat, perched on the rock, blinked once.
Then it puffed itself up to the maximum possible size of a creature that was still extremely tiny.
"Batbatbatbat!"
Sekhmet glanced at the bat.
"Do not," he warned.
The bat ignored him and fluttered forward, hovering above the water like an angry garnish.
The frog beast’s eyes widened.
"WHAT IS THAT...," it croaked. "A BERRY WITH WINGS."
The bat flapped closer, offended.
"Batbatbatbat!"
The frog beast leaned forward, squinting.
"IT IS LOOKING AT ME," it croaked.
The bat hovered directly above the frog beast’s head.
The frog beast’s mouth opened.
"GET AWAY FROM MY HEAD," it croaked.
The bat’s body trembled.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.
He realized what was about to happen a half heartbeat too late.
Prrrrt!