When Blood and Death Embrace
First of all, we want to apologize for being so late in publishing this chapter! We know we are totally way off schedule, but things have gotten a little crazy, and it has been impossible for us to publish it.
The good news is we’re almost there! The new chapter is coming very soon (hopefully within the next few days), and we seriously can’t wait for you to read it. Thank you all for being so patient!
For now, here's a snippet that we hope you guys enjoy as much as we did writing it!
It was early afternoon, and a light breeze rolled lazily in the garden, carrying with it the intense, almost dizzying scent of blooming flowers. Max still hadn’t gotten used to it; his enhanced senses made it feel like he was being punched in the nose by a rosebush. Every time the wind shifted, it was a different assault: jasmine, lavender, something citrusy he couldn’t place. It wasn’t unpleasant, just… a lot.
Max lay sprawled on a lounge chair, the Nintendo Switch resting on his stomach, his face twisted in an expression of pure existential pain.
“This game is idiotic,” he declared, mashing a button with theatrical frustration. “Why am I rearranging furniture and catching butterflies for a raccoon?”
From the lounge chair beside him, Charles didn’t even look up from his book. “It’s called Animal Crossing, Max.”
“It’s called psychological torture,” Max muttered. “I owe a mortgage to a tanuki in a Hawaiian shirt, and I’ve spent ten minutes fishing for a sea bass that turned out to be a boot.”
Charles turned a page with infuriating calm. “It’s good for patience. Discipline.”
“It’s good for lobotomies,” was Max’s reply.
A faint smirk ghosted across Charles’ lips, but he didn’t take the bait. Max sighed and let the Switch fall onto his chest with a soft thud.
Tilting his head, he squinted at the book in Charles’s hands.
“What are you even reading?” he asked. “That book looks like it’s been through a war.”
Charles paused, thumb grazing the frayed spine like it held a secret. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his gaze fixed somewhere far behind the words on the page.
“La Nausée, Sartre,” he said at last. “You wouldn’t like it.”
Max frowned. “And you are reading it for fun or just to impress the trees?”
“Oh, I read it for fun. Much like I tolerate your commentary. But unlike you, I don’t need a raccoon in a Hawaiian shirt to feel existential despair.”
Max made a face and returned to the Switch. “I liked you better when you were naked.”
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