Zelgadis had burned out the flame of his anger until the only thing left was anguish. He curled into a ball, shaking, repelled by his new, chimeric form and without any way to escape it.

Dilgear found him that way, limp and pathetic, and when Zelgadis wouldn’t answer him, he laid down beside him like the dog he resembled, curling around the boy’s newly twisted form.

“I’m a half-thing too, it’s not so bad,” he murmured.

“You’re not a monster,” Zelgadis finally replied.

“Depends on who you ask.”

Diglear nuzzled him, and Zelgadis put his arms around him and wept.