A muted protest died in Simon's mouth, unuttered when the 'cutest lich of all time' began redoubling her power. Instead of grousing, mouthing off, or even fleeing for his life, he sat transfixed, captured by an unholy fear and fascination for whatever was about to happen...
Before he could process what Akayuki was saying, it was happening!
The bright, brilliant, unholy surge of energy through him gnawed through the numbness that he had almost gotten used to, worming its way into his flesh. Beautiful, brilliant pain exploded from every wound that had ever magically healed.
Simon lost himself in the roiling whitewater rapids of agony; there was a kind of bliss as he recognized the peppering of arrowheads in his back, or the hangman's noose that had broken his neck, or when a crow had pecked his eye out, or the broken ribs from a beating, or the myriad of other small damages he had sustained in the last year and a half. Most terrible were the purposeful, grand agonies that Monmouth had inflicted on him. His mind flickered in and out of being as he struggled through the repeated assaults on his brain that his former master had inflicted on him.
Through the journey of torturous sensation, he dimly heard himself screaming...or was he laughing? Crying? Angry? Terrified? ...in pain? The sensations that were overwhelming him roared through his flesh and made him feel gloriously alive again, even through the fires and freezing, the stabbing of the pine needles on his face as he writhed on the forest floor, the raw feeling of the air on his face like sandpaper...he could FEEL!
His lungs caved in from lack of air and he could feel it...it wasn't like when he'd been alive...oh no, he was still dead, but now he could FEEL things again! The weave of his shirt, the rock he didn't know was in his boot, the sensation of BEING! And she did this!
Akayuki had blessed him with sensation once more, when he'd been told before it was beyond the power of a necromancer to undo the works of another...she'd remade him, and made him better...
She was batshit crazy, but she had remade him. What else could she do? Simon found himself wanting to see, wanting to follow, wanting to find out. As the storm raged through him, he found himself realigning his mind and mastering the overwhelming and familiar rush of feeling. It was like picking a familiar lock...it took him seconds to recognize the mechanism of feeling again, and he had mastered himself moments after the initial surge of power ebbed. To his surprise, he was wheezing with maniacal half-screaming laughter. The insanity of the sound seemed right, and he trailed off before pushing himself up to a kneeling position before the lich. Wide eyes, manic, remade, and...ready to serve.
"My lady," He started, voice hoarse and full of wonder. He bowed low to the ground before the child-lich. "I was a stupid zombie before, but I see your power and understand now. How may I best serve you?"
A small part of him was incredulous that he should serve a child. A petulant, maniac of a child who was as insane as the day was bright, but...it'd be foolish to not side with such power when all of the world would see you destroyed, now wouldn't it? She, at least, could remake any destruction the world could inflict on him...