The hellhound’s tail tapped once, a dull drumbeat. It was listening. It was always listening.

Berz1337 snorted. “Names feel like contracts.”

Kharon padded closer, pressed his warm muzzle to their palm, and stayed.

Dr. Marin nodded. “And does he ever get predictive? Does he warn you before he acts?”

— end —

Dr. Marin leaned forward. “Soft doesn’t mean gone. It means different tools. If Kharon steps back sometimes, you can try new tools. You can try being recognized by someone who isn’t trying to cut you open.”

“Language,” Berz1337 said. “The jokes I use as armor, the sharp edges. If I lose those, maybe I lose the only person who knows how to survive inside me. Maybe I become… soft. And I don’t know who gets to be soft.”