"Sounds truly ironic," Asmodeus mocked, "you're so concerned about authenticity, yet you fell in love with a phantom you never truly understood."
"It's nothing, to you, I'm just a pastime, a toy in your long life. You seem so attached to me, but it's only to maintain your ridiculous self-esteem."
Ewen said nonchalantly, "Your appearance is fake, your words are fake, your body is fake, everything about you, everything is fake, chaotic and void, utterly meaningless.
But one thing is real, my emotions as Erwin Flesher, my actions, the book I wrote because of it, everything, absolutely everything is undeniably real and has truly existed, beyond doubt, beyond denial."
Ewen was frighteningly sober, as if the warm, vulnerable side he had just shown was merely an illusion to numb Asmodeus.
"No one will remember you, Ewen."
Asmodeus, unable to conquer Ewen, could only seek to destroy him.
