"So, Mr. Arbiter... is this your wish?"
Delilah asked, clearly seeking confirmation.
Merciless on the other hand didn't respond right away.
For a moment, he closed all four of his eyes at once. The world, vast, chaotic, and boundless, all seemed to shrink away, swallowed by the deep, silent darkness behind his lids. In that brief stillness, there was nothing: no sound, no motion, no teasing voice urging him onward.
For that short interval of inward satisfaction, there was nothing but him and his clarity.
And when he opened his eyes again, the calm that settled over him was palpable, like the steady weight of a decision made. He let out a quiet breath, soft and final, the sound barely audible, and said to Delilah.
"Yeah."
He said, his voice steady but firm.
"Good... well, let us settle this then."
From there, Delilah began to explain how this was going to work, or rather, how she was going to grant this wish.
"The book will be forged from your flesh and blood."
She said.
