[After touching one of the purple marbles, you find yourself in Professor Atchison's classroom, staring down at the spirit of a child. It's not terribly surprising to you that this kid was so attached to that mask. Not really. Any child of Subcon would be. Losing it was like losing an arm or a leg.
Your thoughts drift briefly, bitterly to a home long gone, with green trees and neat paths, and neat little homes where children laughed and people carried about their business with smiles on their faces.
But then the child finishes signing the Contract you gave him. And now he's yours.
"Good work, kiddo!" you cry out, and the contract disappears in a puff of purple smoke as you clap your hands together. "And welcome aboard! Hope you're ready for an eternity of servitude, because death isn't about to get you out of this! It's legally AND spiritually binding! Ahahahahahahahaaaa!"
The kid isn't impressed, but you don't care. You've been waiting to try out this trick for a long time. You step to the side and with a quick gesture of your hand, the boy's spirit is flung into the limp body of a doll laying nearby. It twitches unnaturally, and little by little, like an eye opening, the darkness under the hood gives way to a bright yellow light, your brand new minion rising to begin his unlife of servitude.
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Your thoughts drift briefly, bitterly to a home long gone, with green trees and neat paths, and neat little homes where children laughed and people carried about their business with smiles on their faces.
But then the child finishes signing the Contract you gave him. And now he's yours.
"Good work, kiddo!" you cry out, and the contract disappears in a puff of purple smoke as you clap your hands together. "And welcome aboard! Hope you're ready for an eternity of servitude, because death isn't about to get you out of this! It's legally AND spiritually binding! Ahahahahahahahaaaa!"
The kid isn't impressed, but you don't care. You've been waiting to try out this trick for a long time. You step to the side and with a quick gesture of your hand, the boy's spirit is flung into the limp body of a doll laying nearby. It twitches unnaturally, and little by little, like an eye opening, the darkness under the hood gives way to a bright yellow light, your brand new minion rising to begin his unlife of servitude.
Damn you're good.]