Jiang Xiao's heart pounded uncontrollably, the appellation—"Demon Child"—stirring an inexplicable force within him.
His gaze once again became astute and complex, his brows furrowed as if he was struggling to recognize this sudden identity.
"Demon Child?"
He whispered, his voice carrying a hint of self-mockery and disbelief.
The corners of Pennywise's mouth curled into a sinister arc, seemingly reveling in Jiang Xiao's confusion and struggle.
Its body slowly leaned forward, almost allowing one to feel the cold air emanating from the distorted face.
"Yes, Demon Child, haven't you realized? Your existence, your power, your thoughts...they aren't something ordinary people can understand."
Pennywise's voice was low and seductive.
"Do you feel it? That power that belongs to you, that urge to unleash it?"
"Your world is false, our world is real..."
"You must have noticed already, compared to that false world, this place...it can make you feel at home..."
Home?
