"So, your daily life is basically handling palace affairs, more palace affairs, and… even more palace affairs." Alaric summarized.
"I also read books and suppress rebels…" The Death Consul countered, earnest in his rebuttal.
"Besides the first, it's all just work." Alaric said, glancing at him with a smile. "Such a dull life wouldn't even get a paragraph in a play. It's a wonder you put up with it."
"I had no choice." The Death Consul replied calmly. "I am the Death Consul, a child of my father. But I'm not the only Death Consul, nor the only child. If I couldn't endure, death would be my only fate."
Alaric shot him a look, amused by his composed demeanor. "Sounds like you're not too fond of your dad. Ever thought about stabbing him in the back?"
The Death Consul met his gaze without a second's hesitation. "I can't beat him."
"Pfft…" Alaric burst out laughing, eyeing the Death Consul like a fascinating toy.
Then he asked, "So, if you could beat him, would you kill him?"
The Death Consul lowered his eyes, his lashes trembling slightly. His voice was soft but resolute. "I would. Just as he wants to kill me."
Alaric was struck, both by the Death Consul's candor and the imprint Death had left on him... not just external influence but a shadow etched into his soul.
The Balam Empire's survival laws were deeply ingrained in this puppet's behavior, including his indifference to life.
Not that Alaric thought the Death Consul's mindset was wrong. He smiled. "Too bad I can't visit your time. I might've helped you fulfill that wish."
The Death Consul, surprised by the response, looked up. "It's fine. He's already dead."
As a child of Death, he knew he couldn't have escaped his father's influence if Death were still alive.
"Don't be so sure." Alaric said, smiling. "Maybe he'll resurrect through you."
The Death Consul paused, his expression unsurprised, as if he'd long suspected his "fate." He looked at Alaric. "Then you'll kill him."
"So certain?" Alaric raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know what you need my future self for, but you won't want a disobedient Death who might oppose you." The Death Consul said calmly. "And you're my friend. Books say friends avenge each other in times like this."
"Yep, if Salinger resurrects through you, I'll definitely kill him." Alaric said, nodding with a grin, unfazed by the idea of targeting a Sequence 0.
Unlike other Sequence 0s, Salinger was easy to deal with... plenty of Sequence 0s held grudges against him. The Goddess of the Night, for one, would be more eager than Alaric. The Ancient Sun God wouldn't pass up a chance to take down the one who caused the Pale Disaster either.
"Thank you." The Death Consul said, mimicking gratitude from books he'd read. "If you die, I'll avenge you too."
Alaric glanced at him, then laughed. "That's nice to hear."
As they strolled down the street, Alaric's steps halted, a smirk forming as if he'd spotted something amusing.
The Death Consul caught it, following his gaze to a young man approaching with a strange black box.
"Mr. Lucifer!" Klein, holding a camera, spotted the pair and froze before jogging over. He greeted Lucifer first, then hesitated, looking at the Death Consul. "Mr. Azik?"
"Strictly speaking, this is the Death Consul." Alaric corrected with a smile.
Klein wasn't entirely surprised but grew visibly cautious. He studied the Death Consul, comparing him to the Azik he knew, concluding they were vastly different yet shared subtle similarities.
And… Klein stole a glance at the Death Consul's face, recalling historical accounts of the Death Consul, muttering inwardly, "Not as cold as I imagined…"
This angel seemed calm, not cruel.
"Who's he?" The Death Consul asked Alaric, curiosity in his eyes.
"Klein Moretti, your student, your junior, and someone like a child to you." Alaric said, introducing Klein with a smile.
Realizing he hadn't introduced himself, Klein said sheepishly, "Mr. Death Consul, just call me Klein."
"Hello, Klein." The Death Consul said, his gaze softening as he studied Klein from head to toe, as if memorizing him.
Klein grew uneasy under the scrutiny but held still.
After several seconds, the Death Consul looked away.
Klein exhaled in relief, then, remembering something, asked nervously, "Mr. Lucifer, since the Death Consul is here, what about Mr. Azik?" His worry was palpable.
"He's probably still merging memories. Want to head back and check?" Alaric asked, smiling at Klein.
Klein nodded without hesitation.
Alaric turned to the Death Consul. "Let's go back. Time's about up."
The Death Consul had no objections.
The trio headed back, reaching the villa soon enough since Alaric and the Death Consul hadn't wandered far.
Inside, Azik no longer looked pained, clutching his head. He was drenched in sweat, like a warrior after a grueling battle, yet his smile was gentle, like a victorious general, as he saw the three return.
"Looks like your memory fusion went well." Alaric said, unsurprised. "How much did you recover?"
"About a third from my Death Consul days." Azik replied. "The rest will probably need some conversation with my past self... some stimulation to recall."
He looked at Alaric with gratitude. "Thank you, Your Excellency Lucifer. Without your mask, I might not have held onto my sense of self."
"No need to thank me. Just a small reward for an excellent actor." Alaric said with a smile, satisfied with the outcome.
He hadn't planned to fully restore Azik's memories in one go, so this progress was just right.
And… "The Mask Maker potion's fully digested after this. Now I can advance to Sequence 6 Avatara." Alaric thought, a rare spark of anticipation flickering within him.
After all, the name Avatara sounded like it came with the ability to create avatars!
***
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