Zheng Xiu looked at the Bone Chair.
The first time he sat on it, it had been a bit prickly.
But after he got used to it, it was fine.
Now, before the Game Table, a thick fog crept in. Two horrifying arms extended out of thin air from within the mist.
The arms opened, palms up, as if to say: Please, have a seat.
Or perhaps: Go on and sit, Master.
"Fine, I'll sit."
Zheng Xiu's tolerance for strange events was far greater than it used to be.
After plopping himself down, Zheng Xiu sat across the table from the pair of white arms.
"Who are you?"
Zheng Xiu asked.
[You know that your questions cannot be answered here.]
[If you have lived within a mystery from the very beginning.]
[There is no way to begin answering.]
Zheng Xiu froze.
The arms in the fog suddenly raised an index finger.
It was as if between those two hands, within the fog, there was a face with a mouth. The index finger was placed precisely before the lips.
Shhh...
[Who are you?]
[Where do you come from?]
