Void studied Leonidas for a moment, his expression caught between surprise and thoughtful understanding. Void spared him a long glance, his face back to the same smile.
The Prince of Desolation leaned back in his spinning chair.
He did it slowly, seemingly in no particular hurry, fingers laced together over his chest, abyssal eyes fixed somewhere above Leonidas's head.
The chair rotated a few degrees to the left, then a few back to the right, as if Void were rocking himself through thought.
"Quite the life you've lived," he said. "A living hell for seventeen years. But it wasn't all bad either. You met new people, formed bonds, and fell in love."
There was no mockery in it. If anything, Void had acknowledged his struggles and given him justification to struggle more, to fight until his last breath, for the people he loved and the bonds he had formed.
