Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 79: Promise

A shiver ran down Maggie and Elisa’s spines at the same time, as their helpless eyes followed their companion — turning into something else before their very eyes.

Dylan’s once-beautiful eyes had been replaced by a bottomless black, almost imperceptible, as if even light refused to enter.

He trembled, seized by a cold from elsewhere, his teeth grinding as he struggled against something invisible and internal.

And yet, the demoness had remained there, just a few meters away, her wide twisted smile frozen on her childlike silhouette.

Like a blasphemy carved onto a face too young, too innocent.

"I no longer have anything to do here," she finally said.

Both women tensed at her words, but the creature didn’t seem to see them. Her gaze swept over them without meaning, as if they were nothing more than shadows on the edge of her world.

She slowly tilted her head back, and a shadowy breath slipped from her mouth.

Her body began to melt, dissolve, drop by drop — not like she was melting, no... like she was returning to the earth. The ground swallowed her soundlessly.

Only a cold breath hovered a moment longer, suspended in the air.

Just before vanishing completely, she lifted her eyes to Dylan, locking them with his in satisfied silence, then cast a final look at Maggie and Elisa.

"At the next full moon... when his flesh is nothing more than a refuge for my soul.

I will return to claim what is owed.

And with that... I bid you farewell."

Silence fell again. Thick. Charged.

Even the wind seemed to hesitate.

Dylan was still on his knees, hands buried into the dirt, as if trying to anchor himself — to not be swept away by something greater than him.

His eyes, now nearly normal again, betrayed a new depth.

Something stirred in them. Barely contained.

Maggie stepped forward, her pace heavy, her gaze fixed on him like on a wounded animal. Her weapon stayed within reach.

Elisa, meanwhile, kept a bit more distance. But her focus didn’t waver. She was analyzing, calculating — and maybe quietly despairing.

"We can’t leave him like this," Maggie growled, her voice rough, laden with barely restrained anger — or was it fear?

"You saw it. What he’s becoming... That’s not Dylan anymore. He’s a fucking egg. And she’s going to hatch through him."

Elisa clenched her jaw, but didn’t respond right away.

She looked at Dylan, who was breathing heavily, each breath jagged like he’d been running for hours.

A sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and his hands were still trembling.

But it wasn’t exhaustion. It was something else.

A constant internal struggle. A silent war.

"There’s still time," she said at last, more to herself than to Maggie.

"Three days, Elisa. Three days until the full moon. You really think we’re gonna make it that far?"

Dylan slowly lifted his head toward them.

His gaze wasn’t hostile — not yet, at least.

His pupils contracted in a way that didn’t belong to anything human.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, cracked — but lucid.

"I... I feel... something inside me."

He placed a hand on his chest, as if trying to rip something from beneath his skin.

"It’s like... a presence. It speaks to me sometimes. Or... I think it’s me, but I’m not sure anymore.

Sometimes I feel strong. Weak. And sometimes I feel... good. Too good. Like I’m in ecstasy."

He hesitated. Lowered his eyes.

"And that scares me."

A tense silence followed.

Maggie turned to Elisa, her stare hard as stone.

"If he turns, I kill him.

I’m telling you now, Elisa. That’s the only thing I can still do for him. As his superior."

"And I’m telling you we can still save him," Elisa shot back, sharper than she meant to.

"We can’t kill a man for what he might become. Not yet. Not while he’s still him."

"He’s not a man anymore," Maggie spat.

She took a step back, eyeing Dylan like he might burst at any second.

"He’s a pressure cooker with a demon soul inside. And I won’t just stand here waiting for the whistle."

Elisa stepped toward Dylan and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched at the touch.

"We’ll find a way."

She looked to Maggie, eyes dark and resolved.

"Even if it means doing the impossible. Killing a fourth-rank demon, if we have to."

Maggie grunted, saying nothing. Her gaze never left Dylan, her hand gripping her weapon tight.

In the distance, a bird took flight, startled by something unseen.

Dylan slowly lifted his eyes to the sky.

The moon — thin and white — floated barely visible in the daylight haze.

He whispered, almost to himself:

"She’s calling me again... even from here..."

Elisa stepped back half a pace. Not from fear. Not exactly. More like the way one shifts away from a crack in the earth — not yet open, but threatening all the same.

Maggie turned her eyes to the horizon.

There was something in her gaze, just a flicker — regret, maybe. Or a memory too heavy to carry in daylight.

Then she clenched her jaw.

"We should bind him. Now. Before it’s too late."

Dylan winced.

"Like a dog?"

His voice was calm. Too calm.

As if anger had drained out of him.

Or as if... he understood.

"No," Elisa murmured. "Like a man we still want to save."

Maggie didn’t reply, but slowly pulled out a roll of cloth — the kind they used to wrap injuries.

It wasn’t strong enough to hold him, not really. Not now.

Not since this.

Dylan didn’t move as she approached.

He even held out his wrists.

His eyes were fixed on some invisible point ahead. A gesture of surrender — or trust.

The makeshift bindings closed around him, slow and deliberate.

Every knot seemed to sap a bit more warmth from his body.

When it was done, Maggie stepped back, breathing hard.

"He’s stable," she said.

But her voice betrayed her. She didn’t believe it herself.

"This won’t hold you. Not really. But if you try to take it off..."

Her gaze hardened, voice steel.

"I’ll assume it’s not you doing it. And I won’t hesitate."

Elisa knelt in front of Dylan, searching his eyes.

"Can you still hear us? Really hear us?"

He blinked. Slowly. Like waking from underwater.

"Yes... but so does she.

She hears everything. She... tastes your voices. Your fear."

A smile flickered across his lips — Too brief. Too cold.

Too not him.

Then it was gone.

His voice returned. Lower. More human.

"I’m sorry."

Silence settled again.

Dense. Brittle.

As if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then Elisa stood, eyes dark, jaw tight.

"We need to move. Now.

Find a place to sleep before we enter the Heroes’ Graveyard."

Maggie nodded — then added, lower, almost to herself:

"And a plan B. Just in case."