Cain stared at Faith's cocoon for several long seconds after stepping back.
The strange emotional warmth flowing from the cocoon still lingered around him, wrapping around his thoughts like invisible threads that refused to loosen. Even after separating his hand from the surface, traces of those memories remained in his mind.
Faith smiling at him.
Faith crying because of him.
Faith looking at him like he was the center of her entire existence.
"…Damn this blood pact…"
Cain muttered internally.
Because the deeper he looked into it, the more unsettling it became.
At first, he thought it merely forced emotions.
Then he realized it strengthened attachment.
Now—
It was affecting memories themselves.
Not fabricating them completely.
But twisting interpretation.
Amplifying emotional value.
Making every small interaction endlessly meaningful.
And worst of all—
He could not properly interfere with it.
That fact alone disturbed him more than anything.
