[Training] I still don't want to be here

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Gods and mercy didn’t quite fit the mold of what Deimos had experienced. Safrin and Ludo seemed to tolerate him at best, and he’d never been in the presence of either Frey. But there were others blessed and anointed by them, favored and beloved. The Reaper and Sword had simply grown from worlds where he relied upon himself and not the deities overshadowing the worlds; had seen where manipulations ran deep, where one herald could easily warp and misguide individuals. So he kept his distance when and where he could, his measures and machinations, his calculations and efforts, sometimes working, and sometimes completely falling apart. He had no intention of pushing Sah in any direction – that would be the man’s endeavors to pursue. Instead, he tilted his head vaguely, pulling hard at one particular shingle until it broke and shattered in his hands, brushing it aside so that it fell off the roof in pieces. “What do you know about the gods here?” They rest of the warped, meddlesome portions were gone, leaving only the empty space in which the General would contort and create. He removed his gloves for better access to incantations, leaving them on a flattened portion, while his palms became gilded, while enchantments swarmed through his veins, sprang to life without hesitation. One by one, the shingles meant to replace emerged, and while he did hone his concentration on his task, he could at least answer to the best of his abilities. “I am not certain on the deaths.” Possible, if they hadn’t been granted a cure in time, if they’d been lost out on the ethers, vestiges, and voids, as he’d tried to do to himself – gone and broken in so many ways. “Recovery has been decent. I have been told to go easy on myself.” The slightest of grins thereafter indicated he really hadn’t; pressing forward and onward, head bowed, striving to enact action and response. He made no mention of being cured and immediately fighting a monster; but that was par for the course in Caido. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace