When Yetao finally opened his eyes, the world came into focus slowly, like emerging from deep water. He found himself in an unfamiliar room with walls of polished sandstone. Beside him sat Peanut, watching him with an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through to his core.
Struggling to sit up, Yetao felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Peanut moved with surprising grace, his hands steady as he helped Yetao upright.
"Are you okay now?" Peanut asked, his voice a low, melodious rumble.
Relief flooded through Yetao for a brief moment—until his gaze dropped to his own body. His clothes had been changed. Gone were the tattered dancer's garments, replaced by a simple white tunic.
Panic seized him like a physical grip around his throat. His eyes darted up to Peanut's face, unspoken questions and fears written plainly across his features.
"Don't worry," Peanut said calmly, reading his expression. "I was the one who changed it." Without missing a beat, he added, "Now can we talk about why you're dressed as a woman?"
The directness of the question left Yetao momentarily speechless. Something in Peanut's gaze told him there would be no easy escape from this conversation. He could easily lie now. But if his cover's blown in the future, will he able to escape? And yet... could he trust this stranger? This beautiful, mysterious man who had rescued him from Makko's soldiers only to uncover his secret?
While Yetao's thoughts raced in chaotic spirals, Peanut released a soft sigh.
"I won't harm you," he said, his voice taking on a gentler tone. "In fact, I can't harm anyone, since I'm a God of Life."
"You're a God too?" The words burst from Yetao before he could stop them, panic edging his voice.
Peanut's expression softened further. "I mean what I said. I can't harm you even if I wish." His eyes were warm pools of amber, sincere and calming.
Yetao felt his defenses weakening. Part of him wanted to confess everything—to tell this strange god that he didn't belong in this world at all. But what if Peanut thought him insane? Or worse, what if he believed him and decided he was too dangerous to remain?
Taking a deep breath, Yetao opted for a half-truth woven with necessary lies.
"I lost my memories," he began, each word carefully chosen. "When I first arrived, the king immediately suspected me of being an assassin. I was terrified, so I... I pretended to be a woman." The deception tasted bitter on his tongue, but he pressed on. "It seemed safer that way."
Throughout Yetao's explanation, Peanut's face remained utterly expressionless, a perfect mask that revealed nothing of his thoughts. When Yetao finished, those dark eyes continued to study him with unsettling intensity.
"You lost your memories?" Peanut finally asked, each word measured and precise.
Yetao nodded, swallowing hard under that penetrating gaze.
A sigh escaped Peanut's lips, barely audible. "Listen carefully to what I'm about to say." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper. "You don't belong here."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. A chill ran down Yetao's spine—not from fear, but from the shock of hearing his deepest secret spoken aloud by a stranger.
"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously, unwilling to reveal too much.
"Remember how I said I'm the God of Life?" Peanut's gaze never wavered. "I can see the color of your soul. It's tangled—unlike any I've seen before. You're definitely not from here."
Relief flooded through Yetao—someone understood! Someone knew! But caution held his tongue; he couldn't admit everything, not yet.
"So... what should I do to go back?" he asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Peanut's reply came without hesitation. "Only one way. Death."
Another silence fell, heavier than before. Yetao's mind struggled to process the word.
"EHHH?" The sound erupted from him, halfway between a gasp and a scream. "You mean if I die, I'll go back?" The concept filled him with equal parts hope and terror.
Peanut nodded solemnly. "Since you don't belong here, naturally, you'll go to where you belong after death."
Conflict raged within Yetao. Could it really be so simple? So... final? "But... this is my original body," he thought, fingers unconsciously touching his face, his hair. "I even have my hair coloring intact. Can I believe him?"
As if reading his doubts, Peanut extended his hand. With a shimmer of golden light, a knife materialized in his palm—its blade clear as crystal, the hilt adorned with symbols Yetao couldn't decipher.
Yetao flinched back instinctively, eyes wide.
"Don't panic," Peanut soothed. "This is a soul extraction weapon. It doesn't damage your body. If I'm wrong somehow, I can put it back."
Before Yetao could protest, Peanut called to someone beyond the doorway. A servant entered—a young man with downcast eyes who bowed respectfully to Peanut.
What happened next occurred so quickly that Yetao had no time to intervene. Peanut lunged forward, plunging the crystalline blade into the servant's chest.
Yetao's cry of horror died in his throat as he realized something impossible—there was no blood. The servant simply slumped forward, unconscious but seemingly unharmed. The knife in Peanut's hand glowed with a soft blue light.
"See?" Peanut said calmly, as if he had just demonstrated something entirely mundane. "Now I have extracted his soul. I will put it back now."
With equal precision, he stabbed the lifeless servant once more. The blue light transferred from the blade back into the body, and the servant gasped violently, eyes flying open as consciousness returned.
"You may go," Peanut dismissed him gently, and the servant, looking disoriented but unharmed, bowed and departed.
Yetao sat frozen, unable to process what he had just witnessed. "What in the nine hells did I just see?" his mind screamed.
"If your soul disappears after extraction," Peanut explained, turning back to Yetao, "I will consider it proof that you went to the other world. But if it doesn't, I will put it back."
The conflict within Yetao intensified. "At this point, I really don't have any other options," he thought, eyes fixed on the gleaming knife. "But still..." A shudder ran through him. "Getting stabbed is scary."
Something in his expression must have betrayed his fear, for Peanut's features softened. A gentle smile curved his lips—the first true smile Yetao had seen from him.
"I don't know what kind of place you're from," he said softly. "But I know death might be considered a scary thing everywhere." He reached out, taking Yetao's trembling hand in his own. "Rest assured. I'll be with you."
The warmth of that touch, the sincerity in those dark brown eyes... Yetao felt his resolve solidify.
"Okay," he whispered. "Stab me with it." His hands still trembled, but determination blazed in his eyes.
Before Peanut could act, Yetao spoke again, words spilling out as if they might be his last. "Can you... can you tell Chen—I mean Seshat—that I've remembered everything and went back? He might be worried."
Peanut paused, something flickering behind his eyes too quickly for Yetao to identify. "Okay," he said finally.
Drawing a deep breath, Yetao squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for whatever sensation might come.
The knife entered his chest with no pain, only a shocking cold that spread outward from the point of contact. For an instant, Yetao felt himself splitting—not physically, but in some deeper, more fundamental way.
Peanut frowned in concentration as he worked to extract the tangled soul, but something unexpected happened. A portion of Yetao's essence clung stubbornly to his heart, refusing to be drawn out. Looking closer, Peanut could see it clearly—a filament of pure water energy, binding the soul to the body.
"What is this?" Peanut murmured, confusion creasing his brow. "This isn't supposed to happen."
Even as he watched, the partially extracted soul began to darken, turning from luminous blue to an inky black—the unmistakable sign of true death approaching.
Panic flashed across Peanut's face. With lightning reflexes, he reversed the process, driving the knife back into Yetao's chest and forcing the captured soul back into the body.
Yetao's eyes flew open as consciousness returned in a violent rush. He gasped desperately for air, his lungs burning as if he'd been underwater for too long. Hyperventilation seized him, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
"It was dark," his mind screamed. "I thought I..." Words failed him even in his thoughts. Instead, tears flowed freely down his cheeks, his body wracked with violent shudders.
Peanut reacted with surprising emotion. He flinched as if struck, then immediately gathered Yetao into his arms, holding him close against his chest.
"It's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble against Yetao's ear. "It's alright now. Please don't cry, ihy." His hand moved in gentle circles across Yetao's back, a rhythm as old as comfort itself.
Yetao clung to him, fingers digging into the rich fabric of Peanut's robes, seeking anchor in this storm of fear and confusion. The tears seemed endless, flowing from some deep well of terror that the brief brush with death had opened within him.
When the storm finally subsided and Yetao pulled away, Peanut cupped his face with unexpected tenderness, thumbs brushing away the remnants of tears from his cheeks.
"Are you okay now?" he asked, genuine concern etched into every line of his face.
Yetao could only stare back, lost in the depths of Peanut's eyes.
"Taking out your soul does not seem to be the answer," Peanut continued. "There's something else at work here. But don't worry, ih... Yetao. We'll figure it out soon." His smile was warm, reassuring.
Yetao nodded automatically, but a fragment of the conversation caught in his mind. "Huh? Did he just call me something else? Ih... what?" The thought formed and dissolved like mist, overtaken by a new disturbance.
"I thought I might find something interesting," an unfamiliar voice drawled from the doorway. "But am I seeing things now?"
Both Yetao and Peanut turned toward the newcomer—a tall figure with dark green hair and, most startlingly, a pair of jackal ears perched atop his head. His lips were curved in an amused smile that never reached his eyes.
Peanut sighed, dropping his hands from Yetao's face. "I know why you might've come," he said, resignation clear in his voice. "But sorry to disappoint. He's alive."
The words sent a chill through Yetao. "Is that something he should be disappointed about?" he wondered, eyeing the stranger warily. "Who is he?"
The jackal-eared man crossed the room with fluid grace, stopping only when his face was mere inches from Yetao's. His eyes—golden with vertical pupils—examined Yetao with predatory interest.
"So this was supposed to be my prey?" he asked, amusement coloring his tone.
In a protective gesture, Peanut moved between them, physically shielding Yetao from the newcomer's gaze.
"I know it's a hassle for you to go empty-handed, seeing that you came by yourself," Peanut said, his voice taking on a hardness Yetao hadn't heard before. "But you can't take a living person, Hemanubis[1]."
The fierce glare accompanying these words seemed to amuse Hemanubis rather than intimidate him. He backed away, hands raised in mock surrender.
"Whoa! Cool down," he chuckled. "I was just taking a look at what was supposed to be mine. But yeah, I might have to leave it now." His expression shifted to exaggerated disappointment. "How disappointing."
His gaze slid past Peanut to fix once more on Yetao. "Can't you just die?" he asked casually, as if inquiring about the weather.
Yetao blinked in shock. "Is he nuts?" he thought wildly. "Why is he asking me to die?" He shot Peanut a bewildered look.
"He's a God who collects souls for the underworld," Peanut whispered in explanation. "He must have sensed something when I took out your soul."
Understanding dawned, but it brought little comfort. Yetao found his gaze drawn to those unusual ears—pointed and covered in short fur, swiveling slightly like a real animal's.
"Why? You want to touch my ears?" Hemanubis asked suddenly, noticing the direction of Yetao's stare.
Despite himself, Yetao's eyes sparkled with curiosity, but he quickly looked away. This god was clearly dangerous, despite his casual manner.
"Since you've got what you came for, I believe you can take your leave now," Peanut said firmly, subtly positioning himself to block Hemanubis's view of Yetao.
Hemanubis pouted dramatically. "Geez... why so mean? I'm seeing you after a long time." A sly smile spread across his face. "Why don't we get together and have a chat? After all, something interesting happened to the right-hand man of Zababa. Don't you want to hear? You were practically our peacemaker."
Peanut flinched almost imperceptibly at these words.
"If it's the right-hand man of Zababa, then it must be that furry guy," Yetao realized, the pieces clicking together in his mind.
"Is it Makko?" he asked, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
Hemanubis turned to him, surprise evident on his features. "Huh? You know him? Is he your friend?"
Yetao shook his head so vigorously that his hair whipped around his face. "I just know he's a bastard," he said bluntly.
The jackal god burst into laughter—a sound like broken glass falling down stone steps. When he finally composed himself, his eyes gleamed with malicious delight.
"Then you might find this entertaining," he said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "You know what happened to that guy?"
Yetao tilted his head questioningly.
"He's dead," Hemanubis delivered the news with relish.
Shock rippled through Yetao, leaving him momentarily breathless.
"And you know what was more amusing?" Hemanubis continued, savoring each word. "His body was shattered into nine parts, with both of his eyes gouged out." A theatrical sigh escaped his lips. "Damn, it's been so long since I've seen something like that. The murderer must have had a deep grudge."
The false pity in his voice barely registered with Yetao, whose mind was reeling. "How? I just made him unconscious," he thought frantically. "Even though he was a jerk, I didn't want him to die. He was just..."
The world seemed to fade around him, his thoughts spiraling in horrified circles. Was this his fault? Had his actions somehow led to this gruesome end?
He barely heard Peanut calling his name, the sound distant and muffled as if coming from underwater. It took several attempts before Yetao snapped back to the present with a visible flinch.
"What happened?" Peanut asked, concern evident in his voice.
Yetao looked directly at Hemanubis, dreading the answer to his next question. "Who... killed him?"
The jackal god shrugged, his casual dismissal of the violent death almost as disturbing as the news itself. "I don't know." His gaze shifted to Peanut. "Do you happen to know, Peanut?"
"How would I know?" Peanut replied, his expression hardening. "It's been months since I've seen him. The last time was when I visited Zababa for peacemaking, and that was already months ago."
Disappointment flashed across Hemanubis's face. "That's bad. I thought I might get some gossip today." He sighed dramatically. "Guess I'm going empty-handed now."
As he turned to leave, he caught Yetao's eye once more and winked, mouthing the words, "See you soon." Then, like smoke caught in a draft, he melted into the shadows and vanished.
Peanut turned immediately to Yetao, concern etched in the lines of his face. Yetao knew he must look terrible—all the blood had drained from his face, leaving him ashen and cold.
"He... he was a bastard but..." Yetao's voice trembled. "He did not deserve such a death. Why would someone do that?" The horror of it settled in his bones like ice.
"You're way too kind," Peanut said softly. "Makko had a lot of enemies. I don't know what you think of him, but he did a lot of cruel things." His voice gentled further. "It's not for you to worry about his death, Yetao."
The reassurance helped, but only barely. Yetao nodded numbly, trying to push the gruesome images from his mind.
"Take rest for a while," Peanut suggested, moving toward the door. "I need to deal with some things. We'll discuss what to do next after I return."
When the door closed behind him, leaving Yetao alone with his thoughts, a cold clarity settled over him.
"This place... is dangerous," he whispered to the empty room. "I need to find a way out quickly."
The determination in his voice was unmistakable. Whatever it took, he would find his way back home—before he falls into a deeper pit of danger.
To be continued...
[1] Author's note: Hermanubis is the mixture of Greek God 'Hermes' and Egypt God 'Anubis'. They are responsible for taking dead souls to underworld. So in simple words, like Grim reaper ^v^