Through his mask, golden orbs quietly looked over his hand. A hand that was closed in the tight wraps of his glove, his eyes couldn’t help but narrow at the bittersweet feeling of what it was like not needing an armor. Ever since that damned night, where his body had been destroyed beyond recognition and now— he was no longer even what he used to be. Due to those, he considered monsters, at the hand of those THEY called monsters, and yet their atrocities had grown to be beyond anything a Demon ever did in the past decades.

He could feel it all. He could feel anger— hatred… all of it. He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t remember the last time he could rest at ease. Every single second of his life he was through excruciating pain within the depths of his very soul that burned with the flames of a wrathful God.

He considered himself more of a God than those who once dared to call themselves such. And yet, at this moment, the man was all but whole. Especially under this armor and yet, after all these years none of his feelings changed about it, and vengeance more than ever felt like the only option available. No, it was. But the plan was not ready yet however its wheels in motion more so than ever. His position in the Rune Knights was secure and yet the anger, the hatred— both of them to this day were difficult to handle but there was no other way.

For a brief moment an odd, purple haze began to smoke out of the air chambers of his mask until suddenly his ears picked up on something: one of the small fries suddenly walked in his room, as the man’s instinctive magic release immediately faded away.

‘Captain Dethener, you’re requested in the halls.’

Silent came. An eerie one, through the deep breathing of his ventilation system before he nodded.

“I will be there shortly.”

A sense of superiority overwhelmed the one lower in the hierarchy as he just quietly gazed towards the sitting figure; he could only see his back, with that black cape that ran down. It was an unusual attire for a Rune Knight but it was part of the man’s vital system. There was no way he could have had it otherwise without having to go through modifications that he deemed to be unnecessary. He stepped away and closed the door.

Once more, he was alone.

“Soon.”

"It's been a while since I've met someone with eyes like yours."

It was a frank and unhesitating admission. Normally, he would be gratified to receive such praise from a creature extolled as being divine and without peer, but the claws wrapped around his throat ensured that he felt nothing but the discomfort of imminent suffocation. He mustered up what strength he could and tried to raise his arm; this action, which took no more than a few seconds to perform, felt like an eternity to the young mage as his consciousness slowly began to drift. He managed to grab hold of the other's arm, and noted that the being's skin was cold to the touch. There was something ironic about a God being so repulsive, not in appearance, but in nature - in the stories, they always emanated warmth; true, they were often said to be irascible when faced with impudence from what they could only perceive as lesser beings, but they could also be immensely generous, capable of bestowing the greatest of gifts.

Then Asahi remembered. He had come here in search of such a gift, and had no intention of dying. Suddenly, he felt stronger, the grip on his throat felt looser and he could wrap both of his hands around the God's arm. He tried to pry him off, but it was a futile attempt. The God noticed this, threw back his head in a reverberating guffaw and flung Asahi away with inhuman strength. "What's your name, child of man?" he rasped. Of course, he did not receive an immediate reply as Asahi was busy coughing and spluttering, still unable to formulate a proper sentence. In this regard, the God demonstrated holy restraint, waiting patiently for the young mage to gather his bearings and give him an answer. Eventually, it came and the God mulled over it thoughtfully

"I'll remember that. As a courtesy, I'll tell you mine. I am Ringjax, Lord of Phantasms and King of Spectres!" the way he announced his titles seemed like overkill to Asahi, but the young mage tolerated it. He knew that his life was in Ringjax's corpse-like hands. If he continued to fight, he would be killed. If he ran, and somehow managed to escape, he felt as though he would never be able to come back here. Either way, his life was forfeit.

Ringjax considered his words carefully. "Why did you come here? You woke me up from a deep, deep sleep. Out of respect for your formidable will, I did not kill you immediately but... the more we talk, the angrier I get at having been woken up...." he began to trail off, the bemused expression on his beautiful face was reminiscent of a human who just realized he had been trying to hold a conversation with a fruit fly.

Asahi dropped to his knees, and explained himself quickly. "All of my friends were wiped out. Because I was weak, I couldn't protect my friends or my ambitions. That's why I've come here!" he shouted it in as loud a voice as he could manage.

"I cannot bring your friends back to life, child of man. My condolences. Take refuge in the knowledge that you will be seeing them soon," the thinly veiled threat suggested that Ringjax was done with this charade. He wanted to go back to sleep. He began to step forward, uttering arcane incantations that manipulated the shadows around his cave; it would give him the power to kill Asahi as quickly and as painlessly as possible. It wasn't as though he harbored any ill-will towards the young mage in particular but since he knew the location of this hiding place, it was dangerous to let him live.

Asahi realized immediately that he had been misunderstood. "My friends are in a place where nobody can ever hurt them again. I've already accepted that they're g-gone. But as long as I'm a-a-alive, I still have my a-ambition. I came here for your p-power. So I don't have to lose anyone again, so I can protect my ambition!" he managed to articulate his wishes surprisingly well considering the damage he had just sustained to his larynx. It was enough to stop Ringjax in his tracks, enough to arouse the Lord of Phantasms' curiosity.

"A child of man has an ambition worthy of my power? Do tell," the inkling of sympathy that had been present in his voice before had completely disappeared. Clearly, he had felt affronted by Asahi's haughty declaration. "The world's strongest mage," was the labored reply he received.

For a mere second, Ringjax was dumbfounded. "You really are a child of man," he spat venomously as he continued his strides over to the mage's battered body. "Yes, with a lofty ambition like that, you would surely need my gifts," he continued, a tinge of regret in his voice that he had bothered to fling the young mage such a great distance. There was a part of him that hoped he would just turn tail and run, but in retrospect, he was just creating more work for himself. "But I'm afraid your arms are far too short to grasp that title," he raised his foot and kicked Asahi, propelling him until he was at the mouth of the cave.

"You slithered your way past my minions and into my lair just so you could beg for my power? If a snake like you became the world's strongest, there would be no need for me to hide out in places like this!" he sauntered over to where Asahi's body lay, half of it covered in the shadow of the cave and half of it illuminated by the sunlight outside. The young mage had not replied to Ringjax's disparaging comments, so he had just assumed that he had already lost consciousness. But the mage's hand was raised, an index finger pointing to the general direction of the cave's entrance; with considerable effort, his lips began to move and his voice came out as a weak whisper. 

"Didn't sneak in. Look." was all he could manage before blacking out.

The God looked at the entrance to the lair and saw the bodies of his minions littered about. They were far weaker than him, even put together and then multiplied exponentially, but they should have been more than enough to overwhelm an inquisitive human. Ringjax's drowsiness had been completely dispelled at this point, and the light of day meant that he could see Asahi's figure properly for the first time. The marks around his neck that Ringjax had inflicted were apparent, but there were other wounds too. He was barefoot, his clothes were tattered and a deep gash adorned his abdomen. The foul expression on his face had subsided. Wordlessly, and with uncharacteristic gentleness, Ringjax grabbed the young mage's collar and dragged him slowly back into the confines of the lair.