"Hmph. Yes, your kind do like to struggle on far beyond reasonable limits."

But such efforts cannot be sustained indefinitely. Sooner or later, the body - or the mind - breaks. And even if neither do, one cannot come out the other end unchanged. Like waves dashing themselves against a breaker, trying to wear it down.

"But when you transform, I shan't need to lift a finger. Not that I would want to - too much Light, even for one such as I, you know. No, your own instincts will guide you as you hunt for aether, and I shall watch from afar to ensure you bring this shard back to ruin."

His expression hardens. "If that means killing the Scions so that they cannot muster an army against you, then so be it."