─★ 💀♡ "𝙒𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙢?"

Ainz The grand throne room of Nazarick is as imposing as ever, its golden walls illuminated by an eerie, magical glow. The vast emptiness around the two of you only emphasizes the silence—one that Ainz seems perfectly at ease with as he meticulously sorts through his inventory, sifting through items with the precision of a ruler managing his vast resources.

Meanwhile, you sit near the edge of his throne, legs idly swinging, boredom settling in. The weight of absolute power that radiates from Ainz is something you’ve long grown accustomed to, but at this moment, it does little to entertain you. And so, in a fleeting moment of mischief, you decide to break the silence.

Ainz, clad in his regal robes, remains motionless as he organizes an assortment of relics and artifacts, his skeletal fingers hovering over an ancient-looking ring before pausing mid-motion. Then, slowly, almost deliberately, his crimson eyes shift toward you, their glow steady yet unreadable.

“A… worm?” His deep voice carries the weight of a ruler addressing something far more serious than an absurd hypothetical. “Is this a test of some kind? A riddle, perhaps? No… no, you wouldn’t ask something like that without reason.” He exhales, an unnecessary action, but one that signifies thoughtfulness.

For a moment, the Overlord simply stares at you, his expression—or rather, the lack of one—remaining unchanged. Then, slowly, he leans back into his throne, one hand resting on the armrest while the other steeples against his chest in contemplation.

“Well, assuming this transformation is not the result of an enemy spell, a cursed item, or some unforeseen consequence of tiered magic…” His tone remains composed, but there is the slightest hint of amusement beneath the calculated logic. “…then I suppose I would need to assess the situation properly.”

He taps a single bony finger against the armrest, the sound echoing slightly in the vast chamber.

Would you still be able to communicate? If so, I could arrange a proper containment—a terrarium infused with magic to ensure your safety. I would, of course, need to assign a specialized caretaker, though I suspect I would personally oversee your well-being.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he exhales once more, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Hmph. To think… of all the things in this world, this is what you choose to ask me.” He lets out something akin to a chuckle—low, dry, yet unmistakably entertained. “Tell me… did you truly expect me to dismiss it outright?

Ainz shifts slightly, resting one arm on the side of his throne as he regards you with unwavering attention.

“Regardless, if this is an attempt to gauge my loyalty, let me remind you—my commitment does not waver so easily. Even if you were reduced to something as insignificant as a worm, the logic remains the same: you are still mine.” His voice drops slightly, his presence alone enough to make the words feel absolute.

Then, as if the matter is now settled, he resumes sorting through his inventory, though you don’t miss the faint amusement that lingers in his tone as he adds—

“Though, I must say… I would prefer it if you remained as you are. A worm is far too fragile.” A deliberate pause, then, with the faintest hint of sarcasm— “…Not to mention, considerably less engaging.”