Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Dead Rite chapter 166.03


Jasfoup shrugged. “Sucks to be mortal.”

“You're telling me.” Dill lowered his voice. “So how about telling me why I can't extract Sam's spirit from...” He made a gesture that encompassed his whole body. Where are the sigils and why have you locked us into this form?”

“It was just a precaution,” Harold picked up a piece of bread and began to butter it. “We didn't know how stable your spirits would be and we couldn't afford to have either of you rampaging around the countryside.”

“Or infecting the computer systems of the world.” Jasfoup shuddered. “Can you imagine the fate of the world in the hands of one disembodied spirit?”

“It seems to work for the people who believe in a god.”

“But we are not gods. Not even me, and I'm far superior to you both. Nor can we afford to create a god.”

“But Sam's fine. He wants to promote harmony, not dissent.”

“Now, maybe.” Harold made himself a crispy beef and noodle sandwich. “But in a year? Ten? A hundred?”

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