"Ask," Xavier said.
"THE FIRST QUERY," the voice boomed, vibrating through Xavier's bones. "YOU WEAR THE FLESH OF A MORTAL, BUT YOU WALK WITH THE BLOOD OF KINGS AND THE BLESSING OF STARS. YET, IN THE DARKNESS OF YOUR OWN MIND, YOU ARE NEITHER."
The empty sockets bored into him.
"ARE YOU THE PLAYER WHO CONTROLS THE PIECES, OR ARE YOU MERELY THE VESSEL THE UNIVERSE USES TO CORRECT ITSELF? NAME THE MASTER OF YOUR SOUL."
Xavier stood still. The answer that rested on the tip of his tongue was Me. I am the master. But the air around him tightened, the gold on the statues gleaming menacingly. That was the arrogant answer. The lie.
He thought of the System. The missions. The Goddess Astraea. He thought of the way his life had been steered, guided, and rewarded.
"I am the vessel," Xavier said, his voice steady.
The pressure increased. The face waited.
