Noctis did not flinch from Eos's reaching hand, clearing his throat while brushing invisible dust from his sleeves, he unhurriedly said, "I know your foundations are more robust than most can ever imagine, Lord Eos, but as you have found out, killing me is only hurting you and not me. Every memory you have taken has come from Noctis, the Primordial, and not from me, the Architect of End. How long do we have to make this dance before you admit your failings and allow me the chance to explain my position?"
Eos paused, his hand an inch from Noctis's face. Although the Primordial of Screaming Void did not show it, his heart, which had been accelerating, slowly settled. He may have a flamboyant attitude, but Noctis did not want to die. Primordials were never meant to be killed, and every time he was killed, it took a toll on his individuality and psyche.
