Descent

Jest blinked. 

The voice was cold and indifferent… as it was supposed to be. But after spending some time in the company of the warm and friendly anomaly, it sounded a bit jarring. 

And strangely comforting.

He hesitated. 

"C—congratulations on conquering the Nightmare, Ascended Anvil."

Anvil nodded matter-of-factly, then looked around and pursed his lips, as if evaluating the cost of repairs needed to restore the sleeping chamber. A moment later, he looked into the distance — most likely reading the Spell's runes. 

Then, he turned back to Jest.

"Thank you. But what are you doing here?"

Jest felt his mouth suddenly turning dry.

"Well… about that. Actually, we have been dealing with a bit of a situation here."

Anvil frowned slightly. 

"What kind of situation?"

Jest coughed. 

"That, uh… nothing too serious?"

He thought for a moment, and then said: