Hearing this, Alaric wasn't surprised. He looked at Azik with a delighted expression, like a playwright admiring a perfect creation. "You're truly a surprising actor."
"Perhaps you deserve a reward." Alaric said softly, almost as if it were an illusion.
Azik sensed something shift, but when he tried to pinpoint it, nothing seemed amiss. Confused, he looked at Alaric. "What did you do to me?"
"I just placed a mask on you." Alaric said with a smile, settling back onto the sofa and sipping his tea. "It's called [Love]. You can think of it as the love of family."
"What does it do?" Azik asked again.
"Not much. It's an anchor to hold onto when divinity tries to consume you." Alaric said, smiling without exaggeration. "With it, you'll never forget that love, even if your humanity is entirely swallowed by divinity."
Azik froze, pursing his lips. "I've never heard of such an ability."
"Have you heard of the Shadow of Time?" Alaric countered unhurriedly.
Azik fell silent, then gave a wry smile. "Fair point. If you have something as extraordinary as that, this doesn't seem so strange."
Taking a deep breath, Azik looked at Alaric. "So, what must I do to meet the Death Consul?"
"Survive." Alaric said plainly, without theatrics or exorbitant demands. He met Azik's gaze calmly. "Survive, devour your other soul half, consume the past of the Death Consul, and live on as Azik. Then atone for your sins."
Closing the blank book, Alaric's golden eyes locked onto Azik's. "I'm looking forward to this performance. Don't disappoint me."
As his words fell, a figure appeared on the sofa beside Alaric, identical to Azik in appearance but vastly different in aura. Dressed in ornate Balam Empire-style clothing, the figure evoked darkness and death.
The Death Consul opened his eyes, his gaze... matching Azik's... devoid of emotion, making him seem like a lifeless doll, existing under another's control.
"Ugh…" Azik clutched his head in pain the moment he saw this version of himself. Countless memories flooded his mind... unfamiliar, distant pasts and haunting nightmares that consumed his entire being.
In his daze, Azik heard a voice: "Survive, Azik."
"Otherwise, your children will belong to the Death Consul."
The voice carried a playful tone, part encouragement, part mischievous jest.
Yet, in that moment of turmoil, Azik found his anchor. The self forged through millennia of reincarnation grew vivid. Memories bathed in sunlight surfaced, clashing against the cold, dark past.
Alaric watched Azik, caught in the struggle between humanity and divinity, and shook his head without speaking. His attention shifted to the Death Consul with interest. "You're different from what I imagined, Mr. Death Consul. I didn't expect that, stripped of Death's influence, you'd be such a…"
Alaric hesitated, then chose the word: "puppet."
The Death Consul turned to him, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. "Who are you?"
"Call me Lucifer, for now." Alaric said with a chuckle. Growing intrigued, he poured a cup of tea for the Death Consul. "You seem lost."
"Your Excellency, anyone would be in my situation." The Death Consul replied, accepting the tea but not drinking. His impassive eyes studied Alaric.
"No, I mean you're lost because you're free from your father's influence. It's disorienting." Alaric said, shaking his head. He poured himself another cup of tea, sipped, and smiled. "How does it feel to have a self?"
The Death Consul went quiet, his silence mirroring Azik's. After a few seconds, he said, "It's… nice."
"Haha, such a blunt answer! Aren't you afraid I'll tell your father?" Alaric laughed, eyeing the Death Consul.
"You're powerful. Lying to you could be just as costly." The Death Consul said calmly, glancing at Azik, who was clutching his head. "You chose to help my future self. I trust you won't tell my father."
"So sure this is the future?" Alaric raised an eyebrow.
"This moment isn't in my memories." The Death Consul said, his gaze settling on Azik with a complex expression. "He's free from our father's influence... not entirely, but enough to prove this isn't my time."
"Are you envious?" Alaric asked, smiling.
"I'm jealous." The Death Consul admitted bluntly, lowering his eyes. "Envy is a good emotion. My father never taught me that. I only know jealousy."
"Your dad… what a piece of work." Alaric said, shaking his head with a jab at the neglectful deity. Curious, he added, "You must see what he's doing. He's merging with his past... with you, the Death Consul. He's using his future to devour you."
The Death Consul showed no surprise, only calm as he looked at Azik. "That's good. A puppet without a self shouldn't exist."
Alaric raised an eyebrow, suddenly recognizing why the Death Consul's traits felt familiar... this self-destructive desire…
He chuckled, extending a hand to the Death Consul. "Alright, Mr. Puppet Without a Self, want to take a stroll in the future with me?"
The Death Consul looked up, puzzled. "Don't we need to watch him?"
***
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