Up in the mountains, surrounded by clouds and coated in black vanilla orchids, was the Peak of Truth. It was a Spire, light and brilliant, lined with gold and black.

Noil would almost admire it, if it wasn't meant to be his death destination.

Now, obviously, he couldn't be sure he'd be chosen- Logically, Crêpe De Laine had been acting up lately way more than him.. Yet, something kept tugging, in the back of his mind. Watching, in the way Sage always did whenever he was using one of his creations as another eye.

Crêpe showed no such signs of something similar happening to her.

He swallowed thickly, looking down at the cards in the Truthless Recluse's hands. The Recluse was one of Sage's.. curiosities. He looked much like the Pure Vanilla who'd come into Blueberry Yogurt Village a couple days before, but darker. More.. solemn, almost.

Then, Noil got his confirmation this voyage really was for him.

A card, stuck to the back of last of his. The Devil's Card. Sage had taken full control, his presence flooding the Noil's body. It was always terrifying when it happened, though it gave him a moment of peace, stuck in the endless darkness of nonexistence..

Before.

He yelped as someone- No, it couldn't be him- grabbed onto his back, holding his strings in place. It.. was Sage. It had to be. Nobody else knew about his hidden strings. Had he.. done something wrong? Was Sage killing him directly? But why?

Questions thrummed in his head, the words of a horrifyingly familiar (yet oddly different) person behind him falling off deaf ears, pleas of mercy falling off of young lips.

He was going to die. He was sure of it.