The words were not even directed at him, but Noah felt a profound sense of revulsion rise through his existence as he listened to this being speak.
Every word the Idol had said was horrid, and every word the Idol had said had been said with the casual pleasure of a being who took genuine satisfaction from remembering the suffering he had caused, a being who drew a small refined joy from cataloguing the specific horrors of what he had done to a woman who had wanted to escape him so badly that she had tried to collapse her own existence multiple times to prevent the continuation of the encounter.
And he truly, existentially believed everything he said.
