Three days passed like a blur. A fog covered Mutasm's eyes, his mind filled with hundreds of thoughts and in complete turmoil. For the past few days, he did his chores, made food, and put Hope to sleep in a daze. Not focused on anything at all. The sun had just begun to find its way into the cave this morning, but Mutasm didn't notice it. Even the accidental shocks from touching the tip of the bone sword multiple times, as he sharpened it, could not pull him out of it. Miška also visited him a few times every day. Expecting he had come to a decision every time. Yet, his response was nothing more than a noncommittal grunt that made it clear they were not on the same page. Sighing, she would leave in a huff.

Why had she given him time to think? Why torture him by giving him the night to think? Did she not know he had a conscience? The longer it lasted, the more he felt horrible for even considering sacrificing the cute Little Hope for his own gain. At the spur of the moment, when she had first given him the option, he would probably have done it, but now it was an entirely different matter. Her large and innocent eyes would stare at him with pure trust. Knowing with absolute certainty that he would never hurt her. That level of faith made it almost impossible to give in to his desire.

Turning his head towards Hope, playing and rolling around with a smile of joy on her face, she sat in her fence with a doll he had made for her from dry grass. A glum look was plastered on Mutasm’s face, his shoulders unable to pick themselves up and his back too weary to straighten. Sighing, a small smile spread on his face unintentionally. Watching Hope being her adorable self always made him happy; no matter how difficult everything has been. That even made it harder for him. She would continuously feel great pain when sacrificing her power for him to remain pure if he gave in to his desire. Imagining a crying Hope with a pain filled face caused his heart to rise to his throat and heaviness on his entire chest.

Shaking his head, he sighed again. “I can’t do this to her. We are probably going to die either way horribly. At least my suddenly awakened and holy conscience doesn't eat me up before then,” said Mutasm, reasoning with himself. It was the last push he needed to come to his final resolution. He felt himself get wrinkles just thinking about the pain Miška had promised would happen to the person sacrificing. She had continued to speak after telling him of the only options he had, and it probably was important, but he wasn't listening then anymore. His mind had been too focused on the fact that one of them had to sacrifice themselves. If it were a person other than Little Hope, or someone much older, he would have done it without a second thought. His life was more valuable to him than the life of a random stranger he met just a few weeks ago.

“Good Morning!” screamed Miška as she bulldozed her way in without the illusion even reacting to her presence. Jumping up startled, he screamed in fright. Looking towards her with wide eyes and a heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, he stared at the crazy lady for a few long seconds. She, used to Mutasm’s overreacting every time to her jolly entrance, walked past him without blinking once -- then again she didn't have eyelids or eyes to blink with. With a quick pace, she hurried her way, skillfully dodging all the things sprawled across the floor of the cave. Mutasm had been too much in his depressed state to really notice the mess until now. Branches littered the ground, rocks of various sizes, and even the purple potatoes were thrown about everywhere.

Shaking his head, he got up with a grunt, his aching muscles too tired for any movement. He needed to clean the place up as Miška did her usual. Having made it to Hopes fence, an enormous smile bloomed on her face. Looking towards Mutasm with knowing eyes, she picked up Hope and her doll. Hope, noticing her enter, quickly sat up and raised one hand begging to be picked up from her little prison; the other hand clutching her doll like her life depended on it. “Hello! Little Hope, do you want to play with aunty Miška again?” said Miška in greeting to the ball of fluff. Mutasm watching from the corner of his eye was left utterly astonished yet again by how quickly Hope grew. It hadn’t even been a few weeks since all Hope could do was whimper and baby speak. But now, with an incredible amount of understanding in her eyes, she nodded to Miška’s question with an enormous smile of expectation.

Frozen bent over, right hand extended to pick up a couple of sticks, he stared at them. Miška sat down with Hope and began to roll around with her, both giggling like children the entire time. Miška seemed to be happier than usual today. The past three days she would come in with a ghost of her joyous smile when she had first begun talking to Mutasm. Shaking his head, he probably saw things that were never there; his foggy sight must have made him imagine her solemn mood. Picking the sticks he had his hand wrapped around, he began stacking them back to their corner of the cave, the stones to one of their own, and the food the same.

It took a while, but he eventually had the entire area cleaned up, and things sorted out. Of course, the only place to be quite the mess was where the two were playing. Sitting down a bit away, he watched them enjoy themselves, Hope giggling crazily, a beautiful smile and crescent eyes made it quite clear how much fun she was having. Once again, he couldn't help himself. A smile formed on his face, as an invasive nervous feeling invaded his stomach. After what seemed to be a few hours, Hope had finally exhausted herself. Falling asleep in Miška’s arms, she was placed in her fence and covered by her blankets by her.

Turning towards Mutasm, she walked towards him, sitting down on the opposite side of the cave. Her sly smile never faltered once, as she began to speak, “I assume you've finally come to a decision?” she asked, knowing full well that he had. “Y-yes, I think so,” said Mutasm, the nervous tension that had built up in him taking its effect in his words. Releasing a ragged breath, he tried hardening his face, the moment was too important to look like an idiot. “I-I am going to let her live her life fully. For both of us to stay p-pure, I will,” gulping, Mutasm found it harder than he imagined. Saying those words seemed like an impossible task now, but through it, he pushed past the struggle. “I will sacrifice my power or anything I gain from the blight,” he quickly said in one breath. Mutasm couldn't stop halfway, he needed to say it all, or he wouldn't be able to say any of it.

Miška sly smile turned into one from ear to ear. The smile was so wide, he thought she might snap something in her jaw - if she had anything to snap. “Okay, I will help you get started, but after that, you will have to do it yourself. Before we start do you have any questions for me?” said Miška with a voice on the edge of screaming for joy. Mutasm knew that this meant she would have a reliable source of a power boost. Every time he sacrificed what power he could have used to become stronger himself, she would feel the same ecstasy she felt before. In his mind, he looked at it as a drug for her. It had been evident that the ecstasy brought horrible memories up, yet, she could not stop wanting more.

Then again, who wouldn't want a way to power up and stay pure at the same time. And from what she had said before, the gods of the Gyvūnai -- who seem to be beastkin -- were a pompous group. Anyone who thinks they are better than another will always be extremely dangerous to deal with. She would need as much power as possible to keep her afloat. It also would be essential for her to stay alive thought Mutasm. He planned to demand that she blesses him with the first of her powers. She hadn't told him what it was, but from what he got from her, it was the only power he could get that he would not be forced to sacrifice to stay pure. Anything no matter what it was would help him greatly.

“Yes, I want to know what your first power is. You never explained it,” said Mutasm, determination lining his face. He had stated his intent on the sacrifice already, and though he still felt butterflies in his stomach, he needed to get as much from her as possible. As he watched for any reaction, her face quickly turned into one of understanding in intent. Frowning, she had not been prepared for him to recall that at the moment. ‘My first power? Ah, yes, my first power,” said Miška as she quickly changed her slip of facade into one of thought and deep contemplation. “Hmm, my first power is quite simple actually. Yet, I am not so sure how it would turn out if I blessed you.”

Closing her eyes, a pulsing green light began to shine from her eyes. Opening them again, she looked at Mutasm with an intensity that made him quite awkward. For long seconds of silence, Mutasm fidgetting in place as he drummed his fingers on his thigh, she sat there staring at him. It felt like she was looking into his soul. Shivering at the thought, he waited, until finally, she drooped her shoulders in exhaustion. Releasing a breath he had not known he held, he had to ask, “Is everything alright?” Looking closely, Miška looked like she had just finished a marathon. Taking deep, ragged breaths, body shaking from exertion, and sweat glistening on her green body. It took a bit of time for her to regain any sense of decorum or balance, but she eventually looked up with a frown. “I am not sure it will work on you,” exclaimed Miška in between two large deep breaths.

“Not work on me? Why not?” said Mutasm in incredulity, was she being cheap with her powers or was she being serious. It would not be a good sign if she were miserly to someone who would literally be her power bank. “It won't work because of two reasons. The first is that you are obviously not from this world,” said Miška. Watching Mutasm frown, she raised her hand before he could say anything. Pointing at Hope and herself, she continued, “Your body doesn't work as ours does. You came here, to this world, in the state of Fitrah - absolute purity - which is inconceivable for any person who lives in this world. It also means you can't gain powers or insight beyond insight.”

“Insight beyond insight? What is that supposed to mean?” asked Mutasm, this was not turning out as well as he had hoped. “Insight beyond insight is how the people of this world grow. The universal word for what happens is known as Baserrah. Using the Vitsaus, they would grow based on the depth of understanding they have on a natural occurrence or the way something works. It is what they gain in return for the corruption that inhibits their hearts and souls. The Vitsaus would send an image to them, a form of insight. All they have to do is recall it and hone it to something useful,” explained Miška, a dawning look of understanding hit Mutasm.

“You're saying that there was no way for me to get stronger, then why would you put me throu-” said Mutasm, but once again was interrupted by a disappointed and upset look from Miška. Stopping, he cleared his throat and lowered his head in embarrassment. His face blushed as he waved her to continue; promising silently to not interrupt her again. “You are always quite ready to jump to random conclusions. Wait and listen, foolish boy. Where was I, oh yes, you cant gain Baserrah and as such you cannot grow stronger like normal people. You grow stronger on a much more efficient path. You seem to absorb krotálisma from the air every second. Through simply breathing, touching, eating, and even more frightening by simply existing. It enters through your very pores.”

A devious smile adorned her face, but her eyes spoke a different tale entirely. They weren't crescents like usual. Instead, they were as wide as normal; a sign that it was as fake as her facade of joy and happiness. Looking down at his chest, she stared at what was there. Looking down, Mutasm found nothing out of the ordinary. Just his dirty and ripped shirt. Tilting his head, he knitted his eyebrows. Looking back at her, then again to his shirt multiple times.

But, she spoke finally. Her words seemed to echo in Mutasm’s mind. Not do to any part of her actions, but because of the words, she spoke themselves. His eyes widened, and mouth felt completely dry. “Though you can't see it, the Vitsaus has begun to take root within you as well. You too have the rotten tendrils you despise so much.”