give praise, for he has no equal

[seducer]

[ the world is still in one piece, and belial isn't particularly bothered by their grand finale being thwarted. he'd intentionally poked a few holes in the plan—"forgetting" to destroy those documents gabriel and cagliostro found, and telling lucilius to have fun at etemenanki in front of the singularity and her friends, informing them where to go—leaving just enough possibility for either outcome to occur. it's more interesting when the chips can fall either way, and belial is all about keeping things interesting, thriving on the chaos he creates.

also, their failure means he gets to spend more time with the love of his life. watching the world burn and disintegrate together would've been romantic and he isn't opposed to it happening eventually, but it would have been anticlimactic to spend 2000 years bringing lucilius back and then die with him two hours later. he wants to draw it out, savor their reunion fully, before going out with style.

belial grins as he pulls lucilius close to his body, holding him tight when he takes off with his eight draconic wings spread wide, leaving the divine tower behind. he's tired and probably shouldn't even be moving right now, but the combination of adrenaline and avatar's maddening power pumping through his system is what fuels him to keep going anyway, his wings flapping hard enough to break away from the dimensional rift's gravitational pull.

that was a close one; had he arrived even one minute later, it would have been too late. belial adjusts his hold on lucilius and tosses a quick glance behind him, seeing the tower being sucked into the unknown beyond the shimmering rift. the airship he left to the crew is still in one piece and at a safe distance; belial grins and wishes he could see the looks on their faces when they find his... ah, parting gift. but as fun as it would be to stick around long enough for the explosives to go off, they both need to get to a safe location and rest up properly.

he draws in a deep breath and flies toward the eastern parts of phantagrande, landing in the courtyard in the center of the stone mansion he'd purchased a few decades earlier; he's made some good money over the years and decided to buy some nice properties to stay at. it's decently secluded, located at the end of a long pathway over a large hill, so they're unlikely to be bothered. finally, it's just the two of them. ]

So, Cilius—what's next on the agenda? A bath? I think we both need a nice, hot bath to rest our muscles in after today.

[ he gingerly sets lucilius down on his feet and relinquishes his hold on him. the sound of heels clacking against the stone tile almost makes him shiver. ]

Comments

[noga]

[ Lucilius was too tired to complain when Belial pulled him into his grasp, taking the chance to rest his worn body, and Belial, apparently had enough sense, for once, not to take the opportunity to do anything inappropriate that required complaining about; on his part, he took the opportunity to rest his body, relaxing in Belial's grasp and closing his eyes. The second they land, though, he slips out of Belial's grasp with an irritated grunt, opening his eyes and staking stock of their surroundings.

The skydweller building that meets his eyes is secluded, overly, unnecessarily luxurious and decorative, the two of them standing in the open center surrounded by tall walls of stone. Primitive. But it is secluded, and it is large— large enough to give give him the space needed to set up a new laboratory, as well as as fit in anything else he might need. The question now is how secluded this particular area is, and how likely some unknowing skydweller is likely to stumble upon and bother them. None are likely to have the brains to understand or suspect their true intentions, even if they were to see his work with their own eyes, but eh doesn't want anything getting to the Singularity or the other Primarchs.

And speaking of which—

What's next, Belial asks. What's next, as if nothing important had happened. As if they didn't just lose, as if they didn't get defeated— as if hundreds of years of planning didn't just go down the drain— no, far worse. All that, perhaps, he could deal with. The Singularity, the two elements circling her whose full power and importance she herself isn't aware of— all three of them, far too unaccounted for, far too unpredictable. That his failure came on their behalf is acceptable, inevitable. That Belial doesn't care— of course he doesn't, the idiot. But that is predictable. Bearable.

What he cannot bear with is the realization that he was also defeated by the spare. That useless, unrefined, incomplete creature he let Lucifer keep around as a pet, a toy, something to entertain him— Lucifer, whose power he sensed, who he saw standing behind the spare in all his dignified power, upon taking that finishing blow. Lucifer, siding with the spare over him— choosing his useless toy over him—

These are the mounting thoughts that make Lucilius understated irritation and acceptance of their situation mount into anger. Fresh out of battle, the anger is easy to focus on. Far, far easier than the thought of the Speaker, and having to bear with the implications of all his words. ]

Our next step, [ He snaps, stalking off inside, every step of his heavy, sullied armor clicking loud and harsh. ] is to start over. I have no intention of giving up. [ Find the backup pieces for other plans that he had scattered across the skies before the rebellion and before Lucifer discovered the truth, set up a new laboratory, formulate and rework his calculations to account for these new elements— it can be done. It will be done. So what if it all went out of his control, with far too many unaccounted for elements getting unnecessarily involved? So what if all his creations dared to evolve beyond his control, into areas his designs went unaccounted for, into such contradictory creatures beyond anything he had any control over. He is still here, and so—

A sharp spike of exhaustion and pain makes him stumble and nearly fall just near the entrance, and he slumps against the stone briefly, getting back on his feet with his arms leaning against it with a grunt. Even in Lucifer's body, designed by his own hand to perfection, his physical limitations inevitably betray him. ]