The air in the observation chamber felt thin, as if the sheer weight of the truth being spoken was consuming the oxygen. Mordecai's gaze was fixed on the courtyard, but he wasn't seeing the stone or the smoke; he was seeing the architecture of his own soul, and it was a structure built on the shifting sands of caution.
"You are a demon lord," Pavellia said, her voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a clarion call.
She didn't say it to flatter him; she said it to remind him of the terrifying reality of his own existence. "You were given that title by a system and even a god that assessed what you were capable of and gave you a designation accordingly."
"The system gave you a gacha that can pull anything from anywhere..."
"You have been using it at single pull intervals for six months because that was the structured, safe, measured approach. The structured approach served the city during normal operation."
