Fury and outrage came just like Theseus had predicted.
Akthon's eyes went wide and then narrowed into fiery slits of mana as his bright violet aura erupted from his body like a storm. Humans, tables, and chairs were sent flying or tumbling on the floor like autumn leaves.
"You are the Red Carnival?" The Bastet-Upyr roared, his teeth turning into fangs and sand-colored fur covering his skin. "You are the insane bastard who made mother shed countless tears?
"The failure who couldn't even die properly and turned into an Abomination? Are you that Theseus?"
"I am." The Bastet-Meneos could have explained that he was a clone. That he had played no part in the old Theseus' decisions and had been born barely two years back.
Yet he preferred to remain silent and carry the burden of his original self's crimes along with the powers and knowledge that Theseus had inherited from him.
