"Y-yes, alright." Shen Qingqiu takes a couple deep, calming breaths as Anzu sits next to him, and manages at least to stop his shaking and cool the temperature of his face. But he leaves one of his hands lying open on his lap, palm up, just...You know. Just in case Anzu might like to hold it or something. It's up to him.

"So, I...I spoke to that entity the cult was worshipping," he says quietly, in an unsteady voice. "It had the same name as a...a fictional god I'd read about in my original world. A character in a story, invented to amuse and frighten the author and his penpals...or maybe not." He shrugs. "The...entity I spoke to claimed to span dimensions, it even said it wasn't going to let some 'jackass from Rhode Island' tell it what it couldn't do. Maybe Old H.P. touched something real, when he was writing his stories..."