21- Ignore her. She’s half-joking

The five Familiars turned their gaze on me at once. The weight of their attention, even restrained, was palpable. I suddenly felt tiny, exposed, uneasy under the scrutiny of these primal entities.

"Young man, your ether capacity is phenomenal for your age. Truly impressive," Number 1 said, his compliment almost drawing a smile from me. "However," he continued without pause, "compared to the Master's, it's but a speck of dust in an endless desert. An atom before a galaxy. A drop in a cosmic ocean. A matchstick facing a supernova. A mosquito in a dimensional storm. A…"

I raised both hands, cutting him off with a groan.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Thanks, really. You've had centuries to perfect your humiliating metaphors."

The old man gave a mock cough. "I was merely illustrating…"

"It's illustrated, framed, and hung on the wall," I grumbled. "Let's move to the solution before my ego melts in a corner."

He raised a translucent hand. "The issue, you see, is distance. The Northern Forest is far. The bond tying us to the Master…" He glanced at the snoring heap in unicorn underwear. "…would likely stretch and snap before we even reached the elven clearing. We cannot sustain our manifestation that far from him."

A chill ran down my spine. "So… impossible?"

"Not entirely," Number 1 corrected. "There are other ways. But only one is viable given the circumstances." He fixed me with an intense stare. "We would need to use you as a host. Draw on your ether to manifest and act there."

Uh… okay. The idea was weird, but not necessarily terrifying. I was willing to do a lot to save the mission. "I see. But… what's the catch?"

Number 4, the translucent woman, let out a faint hiss that sounded like a scornful laugh. Her milky eyes studied me with chilling coldness. "The catch, worm, is that your fleshy shell is pathetically weak. You couldn't handle even one of us inside you for a second. Your mind would dissolve, your body would burn. Your soul would drown under our weight. Your flesh would crack like porcelain under the pressure. Your bones would turn to glass, shattering under forces you don't even have words for. Your heart would burst silently. You'd scatter into the ether, forgotten before you even—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!"

Apparently, long-winded descriptions are their thing.

"But…" I tried, grasping for a way out, "what if only Number 5 needs to manifest? If it's just him using my ether for the illusion? Since the rest of you don't need to act?"

Number 1 shook his head slowly, a glint of pity in his ancient eyes. "Even so, young man. Even sustaining a single one of our full manifestations, even the… seemingly lightest…" His gaze flicked briefly to Number 5, who pouted. "…would drain your ether reserves instantly. A second would be a miracle. And after…" He let the sentence hang, but Number 4's icy stare finished the thought.

Wait… The sheer scale of the gap hit me like a fresh blow.

"You're saying… just one of you… would drain all my ether… in *one second*?"

My voice was a stunned whisper, but oddly, I didn't doubt their verdict. The aura they radiated, even subdued, was proof enough. Humiliation mixed with grim resignation.

Speck of dust… atom… that stings.

The Magister's snoring only amplified my frustration.

Then the angel-winged girl, who'd been watching the whole scene while swinging her legs with infuriating nonchalance, let out a theatrical sigh. She did a loop in the air and planted herself in front of us, hands on hips, her moon-staff glowing softly.

"Why are you all thinking like old rocks?" she asked, her voice clear as a bell, a wide smile lighting her angelic face. "The solution's super simple!"

A deafening silence fell.

Number 2 tilted his head.

"Simple, you say?"

The girl stuck out her tongue. Literally.

"Yup!"

She spun in the air, her moon-staff tracing swirls of light.

"You're looking for a brute-force solution. I'm suggesting a trick!"

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm all ears, little angel."

She winked at me.

"We won't shove a whole one of us into your body. That'd burn you up like a torch soaked in oil. Like a forgotten match in a furnace. Like a butterfly gently pushed into the core of a fusion engine…"

Here we go again…

"Like you swallowed a sun that won't shut up. Like a snowflake tossed onto a volcano's tongue. Like a feather dropped in a flamethrower's blast. Like a sugar cube falling into boiling caramel. Like an old film catching fire under a broken projector. Like a firefly trapped in a halogen bulb. Like…"

I raised a hand. "Not to cut you off, but there's a crowd waiting behind that portal."

Number 3 pouted, clearly miffed.

"You're no fun, you know. I was on a roll."

"You can save the rest for later," Number 1 interjected. "You know how hurried humans are. Our Master being the exception."

She crossed her arms and huffed loudly. "Fine. We just fractionate."

A murmur rippled through the circle of Familiars.

Number 4 narrowed her eyes.

"Fractionate?" Number 1 echoed, skeptical.

She nodded, all chipper.

"Instead of projecting all of us, we send just a fragment, a faint echo of our essence. A lite version."

Number 4 frowned.

"That would be an insult to our nature."

"It'd be efficient," the girl shot back, arms crossed. "And more importantly, possible. Just enough presence to channel power, guide, interact minimally. A moderated extension, tailored for him."

She pointed at me, and I stiffened despite myself.

Number 5, silent until now, lifted his head from his crossed arms.

"A partial emanation… an ether puppet, carried by the host but powered by a controlled flow…" He straightened, suddenly intrigued. "It's theoretically doable. If he can regulate the transfer. And survive the initial sync."

I swallowed. "Define 'survive.'"

Number 3 shrugged. "It stings a bit. The kind of existential pain that makes you regret having organs. But it passes."

Number 1 remained pensive, lacing his fingers and resting them against his lips.

"The risk is high. If the imprint's unstable, it could expand. Spread beyond limits. Consume the host unintentionally."

Number 4 gave me a radiant smile.

A psychopath…

"So, what do you say, human? Wanna take the risk?"

I stared at her, my thoughts a mess.

Part of me screamed no. But it was the only way to pull off this mission smoothly.

Without the elves' Hive, we're done. And I really don't want to lose my job…

"Fine… let's do it."

Number 3 clapped her hands, delighted.

"Awesome! Take off your shirt, sit cross-legged, and think hard about a waterfall flowing backward. I'll draw on your back with your blood."

I blinked.

"…What?"

Number 5 sighed.

"Ignore her. She's half-joking."