Her gaze pierced through Ikenga as she drew closer. "Do you fear death, brother? Do you fear me?"
Ikenga held her gaze. "I do fear death, but I do not fear you."
"But I am death?" Keles's voice was a soft, dangerous whisper, a subtle challenge in the stillness of Zarvok's observation chamber.
Ikenga didn't flinch. He maintained his steady gaze, his grip on her arm firm but not tight. "You are the vessel through which it manifests, Keles. You are the harbinger, the watcher, the guide. But you are not the inevitable cessation itself. Death is a force, a fundamental truth of existence. You are its most powerful conduit in this realm, perhaps, but not its entirety."
Zarvok, who had been silently observing the entire exchange, let out a low chuckle, the sound like grinding stones. "A nuanced distinction, Ikenga. One that few would dare to make to a goddess, let alone the Goddess of Death."
