This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
“It didn’t matter what you wished or not!” Scylla slammed the tip of her staff into ground, cheeks flush with anger as her composure quickly slipped away.
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t just brush it off when your damnable little pet Emperor went around killing technologists one-by-one!” She stabbed a finger in his ribs, yelling in his face. “And how DARE you blame me for your ex-lover’s spat!
“I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Clio, but I wouldn’t hunt her down in cold-blood!” The white mage snarled.
“You had your little secret voidsent hunt her down, I’m sure! Because that’s what you have always been… just a little man behind a mask, too afraid to confront your failures, too afraid to fight your own battles, to the point that you would murder those who loved you!”
Scylla continued forward, pulling Amon forward towards the entrance doors of the Research Facility. She knew that she should just leave it at that- that talking to Amon was pointless. Justice required respect, and she knew that Amon had very little for her. The fact that he blamed her for his own shortcomings with Clio was final confirmation of this.
“There are better things to spend your last moments of clarity than comforting yourself by making up stories and involving ME in your guilt-complex driven plots!” The girl murmured, pressing her hand against the door as they responded by drawing up lines of runic light.
“Your emperor sentenced her. You led her to the termination chamber. You killed her because she wouldn’t join you in your drug induced voidsent-ridden hells-hole! It was easy, wasn’t it? People’s lives were but worth a simple motion, hmmm?”
With a flourish and a bow in mockery, she twisted her wrist, pointing her thumb down in the Allagan way – as if replicating the vote that would send prisoners to death.
His rage and frustration had grown so vast behind his eyes that it was almost physically painful to endure.
THIS. This was another reason he’d crowned the princess’ head with mutts. That know-it-all sneer and tone of disdain when she knew nothing at all.
“That’s false!” Amon snarled. Over and over again. Those were the only words he managed to spit out, given the fevered pain that overwhelmed him.
It wasn’t often that he worked up into a flurry of emotion like this. It was enough to consider maybe… even maybe… finding a way to remove his choker and taking her down in a blaze of uncontrolled furious aether… even if it would consume him as well.
Finding his strength, he dug his heels into the metal of the ground and pulled back against the restraining node. He may not have a lot of dexterity, but his cloned form did hold some of the natural strength of his youth. Though Amon was usually non-aggressive, Scylla had pushed enough of his buttons to unlock that rare, unseen belligerence that hid under the surface of his normal calm demeanor.