He scoffs and looks away, gazing out across the false city he has built out of dreams and memory. The façade fails the further away from the Capitol one wanders. The towering structures...artifice. Even without Zodiark's influence weighing on his thoughts, he longs to bring their civilisation back.

"As if I would stand by docilely and allow it," he sneers. "There are no better options. Do you think my brethren and I have not considered aught else? We have had thousands upon thousands of years to try.

"...Besides which," he adds in a mutter, mouth pressing into a thin line, "removing His tempering now would only kill me."

It would be a lie to say a part of him does not want it. How nice it would be to lie down someday, close his eyes, and forget about the world.