Gemma blinked. His serious expression morphed into confusion.
"Your what?"
Nico thought for a moment, then realized the discrepancy. He hadn't ever really told anyone what had happened to 'heal' himself back on the shore. Well, he hadn't really told Gemma he'd been sick either, but Kido was his significant other, and she knew, so it was almost implied that he did too.
Either way, nobody besides Seishan even knew what a Spirit Creature was. He told everyone it was an Echo, but for people like the other lieutenants, whom he trusted, he hadn't bothered to withhold that information.
"That's a discussion for another time. I meant my Devil."
Gemma scratched his chin, observing the aloof man beside him.
'Ah... so he has an Echo — a Spirit, I guess — that can grow stronger.'
That was both awesome and scary.
He shook his head and grinned.
"Interesting. I assume you'll fill me in later, but for now, tell me what you've been up to. It's been a while since we've talked."
Opening his mouth, Nico prepared to say something bland like "hunting", or vague like "training", but then felt Shaman tug his mind away from that idea.
It'd been a while — perhaps the first time ever — since he'd had someone he could call a friend. Or, well, who would call him that.
Nico chose his words carefully.
"Well, I've been playing again. It's been a hobby of mine since I was a child. My mother taught me everything, but the ones I know best are guitar, piano, percussion, and flute."
The older man grinned toothily, swirling his wine glass and leaning back pompously. "I can't imagine you of all people playing a flute…"
Nico shrugged.
"I preferred piano and guitar."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"They're more the elegant instruments."
"Pftt! Elegant?! I'll have you know I was a drummer before being infected!"
"No need to take it personally."
Gemma scoffed.
Nico continued, glancing out at the dancing and talking crowd of guests:
"Other than that, I've moved into Ravenheart. The whole territory is exotic. It's a gorgeous palace nestled between fiery volcanos and frozen peaks — that's what the title of some article said, and while I find it less grand than described, it's true." He paused. "I have no real job there. Instead, Clan Song has been training me, and I've been undertaking experiments with my Aspect Abilities. They are quite versatile. Narrowing down the best way to use them has been troubling."
He crossed his arms.
"Can you imagine attempting to construct a block of pure gold from soul essence? Or filling a wine glass? Or restoring a severed hand? What differentiates each substance in relation to soul essence? How are my creations separate from the original? Turns out, some things I can create are simply wrong on a fundamental level. It's all so complicated."
Gemma listened, keeping a reassuring smile on his face as he slowly pushed his glass away.
Nico relaxed into his seat.
"It's almost there, though. I can feel myself drawing closer to an epiphany, and there's just some application I'm missing."
He turned his head towards Gemma.
"Regardless, what have you been doing?"
Before the man could answer, a female server skirting around the edge of the crowd appeared before them.
"Excuse me, gentlemen. Would you like anything?"
She was holding a silver tray with some exotic food neither had ever seen in their life, so they politely declined.
It was a stark reminder that there wasn't anything private that could be discussed here.
Gemma then went on about his journey home, briefly speaking of his dead family before moving on to how he found Kido, and they, together, were moved to a remote citadel in the Song domain. They spent most of their days either working various jobs in the Dream Realm or spending time together in the real world.
It was sort of odd for Nico. Hearing about how normal people lived their lives, that is. Kido and Gemma attended parties, watched movies, frequented affluent restaurants, and spared no expense towards comfort or entertainment.
It made him realize they had no reason — not that he knew of — to join him. They were happy. They didn't appear to have some existential goal like becoming the most powerful Awakened. They didn't need to reshape society, feed off of others emotions, or potentially usurp the hidden Supremes.
So why had they agreed to become part of his cohort? They most certainly didn't know his goal, and they lived a content life free from being forced to undergo more trials. All Nico had told them was that he planned to hunt, get stronger, and challenge more Nightmares.
To that end, nothing else.
So, eventually, when the time felt right, Nico rose from his chair and said:
"Let's go somewhere else."
Gemma cocked a brow but followed regardless. He didn't ask where.
Leading them through the crowd, Nico passed several people he both did and didn't know. At least a dozen of his sisters were here too — of which he had to divert both Eunbin and Hel multiple times before escaping.
They soon reached a private stairwell, ascended several floors, and took a turn right that led to a wide, open hall. At the end of the hall was a balcony that overlooked the entire compound, and beyond that, the city.
Illuminated by the moon and its scattered stars, the night sky was stunning.
It was such a tranquil sight to see after two years in a realm without any — especially since NQSC was often cloudy. Memories of Nico's home in the Southern Quadrant flooded back, and he suddenly found himself thinking that all that was missing were the auroras.
Gemma, too, seemed struck.
They stood in silence for a while. Neon lights glowed far in the distance, and the alloy buildings on which they were plastered rose high into the sky. There was a constant bustle of movement, although from this distance, neither could see it.
Closer, the entire overhanging ledge was built of flawless marble, with wide relieves and arches, carved railings and vicious gargoyles on either side. Chandeliers still lit up the hallway behind them but the light was faint here.
The hum of the party had all but disappeared. Nico could feel the hundreds upon hundreds of people's emotions buzzing in his head, still, so he ordered Shaman to clear it, and before long, only Gemma's and its were left.
Gemma soon asked, his voice quiet but not small:
"Why did you take me here?"
"To understand you."
"I see…"
He paused, then sighed and looked up at the distant night.
"Then listen well, Nico."
After that, neither spoke, but Gemma reminisced, and Nico obliged his request. The cold flame in his heart fed him everything, and the empathic nature of his being beckoned it closer, deeper, and clearer.
Until, laid bare, was the Sanguine Huntsman.
And he was scared. Because the world was ruled by powerful legacy clans and systematically-built power. Those who were weak rotted. Those who were strong rotted too — only slower. He, who'd merely been a lower-middle-class citizen all his life, didn't know the true extremity, but after watching his parents hospitalized after a gate crisis — one where the government had opted to protect a nearby bunker of business owners instead of an entire block of helpless civilians — he realized everyone who couldn't defend themselves would die.
In a world like that, even Awakened feared for their lives.
But that wasn't the true reason why.
The truth was, he remembered Gunlaug. He remembered what would happen when people without control — people like the Bright Lord — were suddenly handed the guillotine. When they were corrupted. When they were demented. When they would go to any length to keep their position.
Even should it bring destruction.
Even should it bring death.
Which was why it was necessary to become as powerful as possible and latch onto likeminded individuals striving towards that same goal.
To him, Nico fit that criteria not just because he was strong, but because he was just. He did things not because they were right or wrong, but because they needed to be done.
It may have been hypocritical to say that. For Spell's sake Gemma knew if Nico was in the government's place during that gate crisis that cost him his parents he would've done something similar.
Still, he had changed enough to realize there could never be a clean victory at all.
He had changed enough to realize that there at least had to be a victory, pyrrhic or not.