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The world had shifted all around him. Darkened and stretched, molded and compressed, swirling and sinking. Pulling on him. Mentally. Physically. Every which way. Even his aura senses were smothered. Hell, even the Scarf was blinded.

But still, Hector did not budge.

There was no reason to panic.

Garovel wanted to. Hector could sense that.

But it was okay, Garovel. Everything was fine.

Sermung didn't harbor any malice or ill will. The man hadn't even wanted to let Hector in like this. In fact, he still didn't, even now. Hector could sense reservation still in here. A contrarian desire to be left alone, despite all this misery and mayhem.

Ah, wait a minute. There was a second aura at work. Was that Sermung's reaper? Inviting Hector in despite Sermung's reluctance. Or perhaps it was the other way around? Difficult to tell when the two auras were so deeply intertwined.

Time seemed to be losing meaning now, too. With everything around him distorted like this--darkened and concealed--Hector couldn't even feel the outside world anymore.

But that wasn't such an abnormal occurrence for him, at this point.

Still no reason to panic.

Him and Sermung in an ocean of darkness.

And Sermung wasn't even entirely here, Hector realized. The aura was distracted. Perhaps the man's mind was elsewhere. Still talking to him out in the real world? Or perhaps it was gone even further afield? Thinking of greater problems, far away?

Anything to get away from the boredom. The dwelling. The endless death and suffering.

Wow.

Familiar, yet not.

Obviously, all this stuff was far older and deeper than anything Hector had experienced. Shit. So this was how bad it could get, huh? This was his future if Garovel hadn't saved him, wasn't it? Or perhaps it still was, and Garovel had merely delayed it.

Goddamn.

Emotions swirling. Making their silent arguments. Trying to sway him. Convince him of their dark truths. Their morbid pragmatisms. Their tragic inevitabilities.

And yet, still, Hector did not budge.

He was a fortress, and they were not welcome inside. It didn't matter how powerful they were in Sermung's mind or anyone else's. His own will was the arbiter of his emotions. No one else.

But he did sympathize. He allowed that much, at least. The familiarity of it all was impossible to ignore. The unspeakable desperation.

It wanted answers. Solutions.

Hector didn't know if he could provide those. But also didn't know that he couldn't. Not for certain, anyway. Not without trying, at least.

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Sermung fell quiet at that.

Hector wanted to say more, but somehow, he doubted that there was much he could tell the oldest servant in the world that the guy hadn't already heard countless times before. Presuming overmuch also seemed like it would be quite the conversation killer here, too. Even with the benefit of his aura reading, he shouldn't act like he knew everything or had all the answers.

Because he certainly did not. That was another thing he knew only too well by now.

Garovel's private words arrived in Hector's mind. 'Ask him about the Yigorosks when you get a chance.'

Why the reaper wasn't simply asking the man himself, Hector did not know, especially considering how keen Garovel had seemed to meet him a moment ago.

Hector took his time, though. There was something in the man's aura again. Something new. Something bubbling up. A question wanting to be asked? Hector welcomed it and just waited, listening attentively.

"...Do you believe in destiny?" said Sermung.

"Not even a little bit," said Hector without hesitation.

Sermung chortled. "So certain. Might I ask why not?"

"Because the world is full of too much nonsense."

"An interesting answer. Too much nonsense, you say? So in your mind, an unfunny joke that makes no sense... is actually evidence of free will?"

Hector bobbed his head a little. "Technically, yeah, I guess so. But really, if free will doesn't exist, then... wouldn't that also mean that... there's basically no such thing as right and wrong? Because we'd all just be doing whatever we're destined to do?"

"...Indeed."

Hector reared back a little at that response.

That was one of the very last things he would've ever wanted to hear from the emperor of the Vanguard. He couldn't help prying into the man's aura again, despite Sermung's earlier protestation.

This suddenly felt far too important to ignore.

"You have a youthful fire in you," said Sermung. "Hold on to that for as long as you are able."

Hector was only partially listening, because the aura was saying so much more now. A sense of resignment. A loss of purpose. Aimless. Hopeless. Boredom. Misery. Countless wounds that had never healed.

And so overwhelming. That was the worst part. As Hector pressed into it, it didn't even resist. If anything, it welcomed him in like a sinking mire, ready to swallow him whole. Drag him down with it. Bring him around to its way of thinking.

But Hector did not budge.