Vanity's laughter continued for a few more seconds before fading into the vastness of the room.
The Revolutionary gave him no answer. She had learned long ago that it was useless to try to convince this man once he had decided to amuse himself at her expense.
He could spend hours provoking, simply to observe how far his patience could last; the boredom of the centuries must have already reached his last neurons.
Silence…
She settled herself further back in her seat.
No sooner had his body found its place than the familiar sensation manifested itself.
A deep warmth spread from the throne into his limbs, then slowly flowed through his body like a current seeking to fill every empty space. His breathing, now more regular, accompanied the gradual return of his energy.
That was the price that accompanied its current level.
She possessed more power than she had ever had before, but this power had ceased to be freedom. The higher she rose, the closer her existence became to her throne. Her influence could reach vast distances, her gaze could pierce the layers of the world, and her will could carry weight. But she was condemned never to interfere in the lives and decisions of humans.
The more she wanted to act on her own, the more she had to accept gradually leaving behind the level that had made her existence almost untouchable.
Vanity was right about one thing.
It was absurd.
She already possessed enough power to be envied by those who occupied the lower levels, and yet she always sought more to the point of willingly losing some of that privilege.
But he didn't really understand what she was actually looking for.
It only supports widows and orphans.
Attracting all the desperate.
She closed her eyes and fell into a sleep similar to the other two who shared the room.
The image of the room where our dear landlord was located appeared in his vision.
He was still sitting in front of the console.
His dark hair was slightly disheveled after hours spent in front of screens, his eyes were puffy, and his pale, bluish complexion, with his sleeves rolled up, revealed his thin forearms. He no longer looked like the husband who had been seeking her approval just a few minutes before.
His attention was completely absorbed by the data.
Several windows were open around him.
All this wealth, but he cannot change his nature.
The Revolutionary observed his face with a small, knowing smile.
– (You still haven't found its signal?)
He abruptly turned his gaze and shook his head.
- Not yet.
He said this aloud, alone in his office.
She didn't seem upset.
– So show me what you've found.
He slid open several windows and looked up at the sky as if searching for her.
– I managed to trace it back to its last stable signal.
"The Revolutionary" came so close to the image that it seemed as if he was looking for a way to prove that he was unreal.
– I don't think so.
He enlarged the map in the hope that she could see it better.
– The loss…
Someone or something is deliberately obfuscating certain information, he continued.
She observed the lines.
–. .
Do you think someone will intervene?
She did not answer him.
– You could at least tell me what you're really looking for.
"The Revolutionary" gave him silence.
Hopefully he now knew his wife well enough, ensuring that these possibilities remained open when the time came.
The Revolutionary woman broke the connection.
The image disappeared.
In the boundless hall, the other three gods remained silent.
But as soon as she turned her head in his direction.
– I advise against it.
A smile immediately appeared on Vanity's face.
– That reassures me. You haven't changed, Gourmandise.
The air in the room seemed to contract.
The Revolutionary slowly placed her hand on the armrest of her throne and squeezed it.
Vanity burst out laughing.
– Still as touchy as ever.
She almost felt like leaving her throne.