In a moment of clarity, it hit me like a freight train. All those breadcrumbs, all those hints, and here I am stumbling around in the dark. Blind as a bat, lacking the insight I need to see what's right in front of me.

Kichil's words echo in my mind like a haunting refrain. He could have led me to the answer, the very thought I've been searching for all this time. And where does that thought reside? Deep in the recesses of my own mind, locked away in the most hidden corners of my consciousness.

This dream, it's not his playground, it's mine. My mind conjured it up, and now I find myself caught in the middle of it all, with that damn parasite gnawing away at my sanity.

Kichil had me on the ropes, halfway through tearing me apart, until something snapped inside me. Pure rage, boiling up from the depths of my soul, breaking through the haze and bringing me back to reality.

I snapped one chain with a swift jerk of my hand, halting his movement. "Kichil," I growled, "you played me for a fool back in my world. I see through your facade now. You're no god, just a prince of deception, and I'll cast you out of my mind like Michael cast Lucifer out of heaven. I AM SEETHING WITH RAGE, AND I WILL SHOW YOU THE TRUE MEANING OF FEAR. The lamb will indeed devour the wolf." With those words, I transformed my body into a writhing mass of worms and serpents, scattering the nocturnal creatures across the ground.

Kichil grasped the gravity of his predicament, his heart pounding in his chest as he fled with desperation pulsing through his veins. He ran through the labyrinthine passages, seeking sanctuary in the depths of his own subconscious. Perhaps there lay a hidden path, a loophole to salvation.

But as the walls trembled and threatened to collapse, Kichil turned to witness the obliteration of his refuge. A shiver crawled down his spine as he realized he stood alone, stranded amidst the ruins of his own making. And then, as if conjured from the shadows themselves, I materialized before him, wearing a grin that spoke of insanity.

With a grip like iron, I seized his face, my words dripping with a twisted kind of glee. "I am the predator, the apex of all that lurks in the dark. You can't outrun me, Kichil. Not here, not ever." And in that moment of revelation, I whispered two secrets into his ear, the keys to unlocking the mysteries of my true power and the location of my elusive contract.

First off, my power's dubbed 'Freak Show'—manifestation turned materialization. Any horror conjured in my mind springs to life. The downside? Drains the mental tank, can't pull it off too often. But here in the dream world, my realm, I call the shots. Minds beware, my power reigns supreme.

Secondly, where hides my contract? Million-dollar puzzler, that. Dumb yet cunning, I transformed it into the scabbard of my katana. Crafty, right? No one's sniffing that out. Now scram, little hare, bolt for the exit, and shred my contract!

Kichil bolted toward his portal, his laughter echoing through the air like a sinister symphony. "HAHAHAHAHA! You're too arrogant, feeding me all this intel. I'll shred your contract and be done with you!"

But what awaited him was a Lovecraftian terror beyond the bounds of our world. His desperation had clouded his judgment, rendering him blind to the truth. There was no escape through that portal; it was a one-way ticket to hell, my hell. To put it plainly, that gateway led straight into his own mind. We'd be plunging from my dream plane into his, where I'd have free rein to exploit his deepest fears, to utterly destroy him. And oh, the twisted delight I'd take in it all. After all, time was on my side.

In the realm of dreams, time dances to its own tune, a slow and languid waltz that defies the ticking clock of reality. Here, hours stretch into days, and days into eternity. It's a place where one can linger, lost in the labyrinth of their own mind.

For Eros, this is where his nightmare begins. I'll break him down, piece by piece, like a surgeon wielding a scalpel with ruthless precision. His mind will be my canvas, and I'll paint it with the colors of his deepest fears and darkest memories.

In this twisted theater of the subconscious, there's no escape from the horrors I'll unleash upon him. His sanity will fray, his reality will blur, until he's lost in a maze of his own making. And when he wakes, he'll find that the nightmares I've planted in his mind are all too real, haunting him like ghosts in the shadows of his own thoughts.

And when I'm through, I'll stitch him up just right and marvel at my handiwork—a human turned mere object, lost in the abyss of his own mind. Kichil emerged from the dream world, finding himself right back where he started, but the thrill of escape coursed through him, setting his pulse alight. With a swift cut of his dagger, he severed the bungee rope, victorious. His pride swelled as he stood over me, ready to claim his spoils. Gripping my katana, he swiftly beheaded me. declared his triumph, his words dripping with contempt. "THIS IS MY VICTORY, I WIN." he spat, his arrogance on full display. "You got too cocky, you worthless piece of shit. Ripping your contract apart will be a sweet release, a moment of pure ecstasy." He chuckled, a twisted grin stretching across his face. "It's like I've got the spirits of my tribe by my side, guiding my hand. I'm blessed by the gods themselves."

He burst into hysterical laughter, the sound echoing through the cold alleys of Manhattan like a possessed man. For a full five minutes, he cackled without restraint, his eyes gleaming with madness. Then, with a sudden, violent motion, he seized my scabbard and snapped it in two. And there, in the aftermath of his fury, lay a torn-up contract, my contract, its pieces scattered like the remnants of a shattered life, my life.