Sylas didn't speak when his gaze met Gogo's across the layers separating the Demi-God and God Planes, and after only a moment, he was the first to look away.
There was nothing more to say between them for now, and his attention instead turned inward as his newly formed eyes seemed to click into place like the rotating gears of some impossibly complex mechanism.
His irises spun in slow layers, emerald Runes swimming beneath their surface while his pupils constricted and dilated on command, each movement more precise than anything his old eyes had ever been capable of.
There was a beautiful sort of synergy to them now, one that followed the arc of his Will so naturally that there was almost no distinction between thought and sight.
The connection between his eyes, his Will, and by extension his Charisma had become so seamless that the world itself felt more responsive, as though everything within his gaze had been placed a fraction closer to the palm of his hand.
