Pain shot through your body at every waking moment, a thousand harpoons piercing your flesh, razors crawling beneath your skin. Every nerve in your body was under siege ever since you signed the Blot Entity's contract. But who could blame you? You were dropped into a world of magic as someone with no such abilities, forced to bow to those who could destroy you with a wave of their pens and a simple chant. Yet you still felt obligated to help them through their own issues.

Their bodies were naturally stronger than yours, no matter the species. They could withstand weak-level spells and walk away with mere scratches or burns, but for you, a simple low-level spell could be your end. You felt like an ant in a spider's den, constantly keeping your head down, apologizing over and over again. The lingering anxiety, despite the few good moments in this new world, made you ill.

You were tired, desperate, and angry—so, so angry. So you turned to the one thing known to destroy those with magic. The blot fed on magical energy, slowly killing its host, but you noticed it also fed on negative energy, which seemed to empower you. Luckily, you had no magic to kill you, but you had an abundance of negativity.

But at this moment, you were writhing in agony. Accepting a contract with a blot entity wasn’t without its price. The blot was adjusting to your body, making it stronger, reshaping you into the most suitable host. You weren't even sure what you wanted to do with this newfound power yet. Revenge? Run away?

A loud knock echoed through the rundown Ramshackle dormitory, and soon enough, Ace strolled in. "Oiii! Prefect! I haven’t seen you in a while!" he called, his voice cutting through the wretched halls of your dorm. He searched the rooms for you before wandering into the lounge and plopping down next to you on the couch.

"People are worried, you know." For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, but the thought quickly dissipated when he continued, "Not me though. I know you're fine."