Page 4035

In silence, Ettol waited. No further thoughts ran through his mind. No planning was necessary. He already knew everything he needed to know. And dwelling on it further would only give more openings to Jonah, who had obviously become a greater threat than Ettol thought.

So he simply sat there. Stewing in an emptiness that was only too familiar.

Nerovoy returned to consciousness, but Ettol didn't even have the care to fuss over him again, so he suppressed him totally and returned the reaper to his previous spot inside the coat.

There would be no need to keep up appearances this time, after all.

And at length, the others finally began to arrive.

Damian. Feromas.

Late, as usual, though still not as late as Parson and Overra, apparently.

So much the better, though.

This presented a rare opportunity, didn't it? A chance to truly cut loose and experiment. See how much he'd grown since reincarnating--and perhaps get a true measure of how much more he had to go.

They were gods, weren't they? As much as he tried not to dwell on it, not let it go to his head... it was still the truth, wasn't it? Others might deny it--and even he might pretend to--but let us be honest here...

What were the limits, truly?

And worse still, his powers were so difficult to test. It wasn't like with all those servants who could safely conduct all sorts of experiments with their materializations and so forth, so long as they had a sufficiently large and empty space to play around in.

No. Ettol didn't need space. He needed subjects.

Minds.

Poor Damian. He didn't deserve what was about to happen to him.

Heh. Or did he? He was an active member of Abolish, wasn't he? Whether it was part of this trio's long plan or not, he was still serving those wicked human emperors.

And he'd always been a bit of an asshole, besides.

"What's the matter with you?" said Damian, who'd already been talking to him for a short while now. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

Ettol just stared at him. A friendly smile might've helped here, but Ettol could hardly even muster one. It probably wasn't enough.

An unsuspecting mind. So vulnerable. So many options.

No one really understood how much strength it took to hold himself back all the time. When the world was at his fingertips, when he could get whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it--no one understood the sheer level of temptation that filled every social moment of Ettol's existence.

Even other psychics didn't seem to know. As often as he'd encountered and spoken to them over the Ages, they just...

They didn't get it.

Well, of course not.

They weren't the God of Impulse.

Page 4034

The vault. His precious sanctuary from Ettol. The place deep within his psyche that he relied on in order to conceal his most important things. Everything he'd just retrieved from it needed to be returned there or discarded totally--along with everything new that he'd just learned, of course.

Above all, keeping Sermung's secrets was paramount. Not that the man needed his help with it. Tenebrach was more than capable enough. Jonah knew that even if he himself took no precautions to purge or protect his knowledge of the Crystal Titan, that reaper will have already done it for him.

Tenebrach was truly remarkable. Without a doubt, there was no psychic, living or dead, whom Jonah admired more. He could only hope to be of comparable mastery, one day.

But of course, that would also mean that Ettol...

Bah. He could agonize over it some other time. It was time to retreat. While he didn't necessarily want to leave the meeting with his old friends entirely in Ettol's hands, it was better to play it safe. Go dormant. Cover his tracks. Rely on old scars. Keep awareness to a minimum.

Yes.

Yes...

Mm.

Hmm.

Germal stirred.

Sitting on a stone bench by the wall.

Jonah had given up control, eh?

Naturally. The poor lad couldn't maintain himself for very long. Germal did indeed pity him, hateful though he was.

What had he gotten up to in this place all by himself?

Musings on the past, apparently. Sifting through more of Ettol's ancient memories, of course. Perhaps that should have been concerning, but there was so much go through that it hardly--

No.

Wait.

What was this feeling?

An unnamed anger.

That wasn't coming from Jonah. That was in Ettol's own heart.

Why?

Ettol wasn't like Jonah. This wasn't baseless. He didn't hold grudges for no reason.

There was something residual. A lingering trace. But of what? Too meager to tell with any certainty.

And yet just enough to know its essence.

Deception.

He'd lost something, just now. Had it taken from him. By Jonah?

Of course by him. Who else?

It never ended. It was never going to. Not until Ettol learned his lesson.

Sympathy? Pity?

Thrown in his face, every time. Used against him, every time.

What, then, was to be done? What, Jonah?

Nothing to say? No words of defense? Not even angry ones?

Silent treatment.

Or exhaustion?

Ettol burned.

Like never before, he felt it. True hatred for his other self.

Fine, Jonah.

Let us do things your way, then.

Page 4033

Jonah exhaled heavily. "This is why Parson thinks you're too soft."

"Parson..." Sermung removed his hand. "After your meeting with him today, I'd like you to prepare an assessment of him and Overra. Then deliver it to me when next we meet."

Jonah's brow tilted. An assessment, eh? There was no need for further clarification. There was only one type of assessment that Sermung would want from someone like him.

An evaluation of his friend's mental state. Both psychic and psychological.

"You could simply stay and assess him yourself," said Jonah.

"I want your opinion," said Sermung. "You know him better than I do."

"Is there something about him that has you worried?"

"...Radicalization."

"By most metrics, we are all radicals, are we not?"

Sermung simply leveled a stare at him.

Yes. Jonah knew what he meant. His impulses wanted to defend his friend, but the best way to accomplish that was to conduct the requested assessment honestly. After a moment, he returned a nod.

After that, their conversation didn't continue for much longer. Jonah searched through the vault in his head another time and ended up providing Sermung with two more potential hotspots, but then, as suddenly and strangely as he'd arrived, the Crystal Titan was gone.

Jonah hadn't even gotten to ask how the man had harnessed Ettol's domain to teleport in, though he did have some ideas about it. No doubt, Sermung's quest had been paying off in more ways than the man cared to share. Or perhaps Tenebrach was growing more powerful.

Or both.

Now there was an unsettling thought. And somewhat encouraging, too.

Sermung had always been virtually impossible to assess--psychically or otherwise. But on this particular occasion, he couldn't help feeling like Sermung had been particularly odd.

More tense than usual.

And more powerful, too.

Or maybe that was just Jonah's own senses heightening. As he grew older himself, perhaps he was beginning to glimpse some of the Titan's inestimable strength.

Ah, but he had to be careful now. Tenebrach's assistance would be wearing off soon. He needed to refortify himself for Ettol's reawakening.

Yes.

This was the delicate balance that had to be maintained. Jonah knew that he was not strong enough to overpower Ettol.

But that didn't mean he was weak.

Their struggle was, in some ways, a feedback loop. They were both growing stronger not just from age but from one another, as well. True, Ettol was outpacing him, but not by as much as the bastard seemed to think.