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“Anyway, enough of this,” said Morgunov. “You’ve answered to my satisfaction. Take your turn, and then let’s get out of here.”

“Already?” said Germal. “This will only be my second question.”

“What, that’s not enough? How many more could you possibly have for me? Aren’t you Primordials supposed to be all-knowing?”

“If only that were so.”

“Geez. Y’know, you’re comin’ across as kinda pathetic, right now. In fact, you’re makin’ me feel like the term ‘god’ applies more to me than it does to you. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“I can only apologize.”

“If this is some subtle strategy to make me arrogant and careless, then it won’t work! My carelessness has already given you plenty of chances! Don’t tell me you need even more! Greedy! That’s what that is!”

“I know my second question for you.”

“Out with it, then.”

“Why did you kill Dolf Rachman?”

Morgunov stopped.

Germal just waited for him, however. The son of a bitch.

“...That’s completely out of nowhere,” said Morgunov, suspicious. “Why do you care about that?”

“Kehe. I will admit it: you do not make it an easy process, but yes, I have been looking through your memories. And that is one that stuck out to me. I cannot discern your feelings from that time. It seems they are quite tender to you. A sore spot, perhaps? Surprising, for a madman like you. It has made me curious to know more.”

Psychics. This was precisely why he’d grown to hate them in his youth. These days, his feelings toward them had waned a bit. He’d grown powerful enough that they’d ceased being a real concern. And perhaps he’d begun to think that, as long they knew their place, they might not be so bad, after all. Fun to play with, even.

But now he was being reminded. Of what they were really like. When they lacked fear. When they’d been truly threatening. He understood completely why his ancient predecessors had sided with the Vanguard against the Kingsparrows. He would do the same, if such a time ever came again.

“...Ask me something else,” said Morgunov.

“Oh? Well, now you are only making me even more interested. Can it really be such a sensitive subject for you? Surely not. For a battle-hardened emperor such as yourself? How could that be?”

“This tack won’t work, either, Liar.”

“What tack? I’m simply confused. Because from everything you’ve claimed thus far--everything you even seem to believe--you love to see brilliance in action. You love human ingenuity. It’s why you’re an inventor. Why you’ve been once since you were but a boy. And yet, with Mr. Rachman--”

“You’re wasting your time. And your question.”

“Well, that’s my decision to make, now isn’t it?”