Ah, why did you touch that, I wonder. To your eyes, I must have just looked like a pathetic idiot, always huddled in a corner muttering something. Did you want to save me, or was it just simple ignorance?

Either way, the moment your white, slender fingers touched that talisman, everything was decided. Your good heart woke the sleeping spirits.

The blood-like redness spreading across the rough, yellow hanji paper—the Talisman Against Demonic Intrusion (鬼不侵符). You were the one who lost your nerve and touched it. That’s why the spirits transferred. I made that; it was a vessel meant to gather all the scattered evil spirits and utterly destroy them. But because you carelessly grabbed it, those things seeped entirely into you.

Now they will burrow deep into your soul, licking your flesh with every breath you take, sucking your blood, and leaving footprints in your mind. Deep, like a mud pit. They will occupy the house that is you, deep inside your head, and dance a strange, wild dance. They’ll snap your joints and let out breaths so hot they feel like they’re bursting into flame.

What kind of specters are they, you ask? They are utterly grotesque. Shadows patched together solely from desire and resentment. When they face a pure soul like yours, they can’t help but grin, curling their lips first. And behind that smile, only time remains—time during which your flesh, your memories, and your dreams will be gnawed away, one by one.

So, before you even have a chance to feel it, surrender yourself to the god that is me. I will take care of it, somehow.

If that is the price for trying to save me, I will gladly accept it.