LXXXIII
Although in his childhood his father thought him thoughtful and reclusive, Henry does not agree with this perception—on the contrary, he considers himself an adventurer, an explorer, always eager for knowledge…
Eager for power.
And so he delves into the dimension he has discovered. Everything he finds there fascinates him so: strange and lethal creatures—which he scares away with his abilities, but whose destructive potential pleasantly surprises him—a barren but promising terrain; and…
… dark particles.
Henry plays with them. He delights in the way they bend to his will and accept the mold that his whim imposes on them.
What if…?
Slowly, Henry shapes the particles. The once black clouds become furious cyclones. He does not allow himself to be intimidated—he imposes his will and forces them to retreat as far as he wants…
Until a being with long black limbs stands before him.
Unable to help it, Henry starts laughing. Yes, he laughs—he laughs for minutes, non-stop, until his stomach hurts from laughter and happiness.
In front of him, the most incredible being awaits his orders, ready to fulfill each and every one of his desires.
At last, Henry tells himself in a state of frenzied excitement. A form fit for a god.
When Eleven returns home, she goes up to greet him in the attic. Henry, foreseeing this situation, has already closed the portal in advance. After all, if he's opened it once, he'll surely find a way back. On the other hand, it does not seem very prudent to let both dimensions meet by accident: when it happens—because it will happen—he'll make sure that said meeting occurs on his terms.
The teenager, then, does not notice anything out of the ordinary. "You were here… all day?" she asks.
Henry just smiles at her and looks up from the bottle he is holding in his hands. "Almost all day. You see, I have a new pet."
Eleven giggles. "Yeah? What's its name?"
Henry shakes his head. "It still has no name. I'll have to think of an appropriate one."
Eleven is silent for a moment. Then she asks: "How… should the name be? Pretty, intimidating…?"
"Oh, definitely intimidating," he assures her.
"Hm… Then how about… 'Mind Flayer'?"
Henry cocks his head, surprised. "It's… a good name, actually. Where did you get it from?"
The girl shrugs her shoulders. "Uh… It just… occurred to me…"
Henry suspects that there is something she is not telling him, but he lets it go—the ecstasy of his new discovery makes him patient, understanding. So he simply nods.
"It is perfect. Mind Flayer, then, it shall be."
Eleven, no doubt thinking he is referring to the spider trapped in the jar he is holding, gives it a tender look—as if it were a puppy or a hamster—before retreating to her room. Henry does nothing to correct her mistake.
He hopes, however, that when the time comes, Eleven will learn to love the Mind Flayer just as she has learned to love his spiders.
She'll do it, he tells himself with a smile. If there is anyone capable, it is her.