"How about I get Amon to form a band to play music in the background?"
Medici glanced at Alaric, picturing the scene, his smile growing more unrestrained. He drawled, "Make sure to take pictures."
"No way I'd miss capturing Adam's dark history!" Alaric replied with a look that said, Do you even need to ask?
He then eagerly discussed various plans to torment Adam with Medici, before yawning, visibly tired. "I'm exhausted. I need a nap."
Even with Alaric's deep spirituality, summoning the Death Consul and the Angel of Imagination back-to-back had taken its toll. Though not fully depleted, he was close enough to feel drained.
Medici glanced at him, pointing to the left. "Third room on the left is a guest room. If you need anything, ask the Aurora Order folks."
"Okay, okay!" Alaric gave Medici a thumbs-up, yawning as he headed for the door. Just before leaving, he paused, turned back, and said, "Don't get into a fight with Adam. I don't have the energy to back you up right now."
Medici nearly rolled his eyes. "Do you think I'm a powder keg ready to explode? If I were that impulsive, I'd have fought him already."
His smile took on a self-mocking edge. "Relax, I know more about restraint than you do."
Alaric looked at him, said nothing more, and, genuinely tired, waved before heading to the guest room to rest.
Click...
The door closed, leaving Medici alone in the study. He stood silently, his gaze seemingly fixed on the intelligence reports on the desk, but a closer look revealed his unfocused pupils, lost in thought.
"Tch!" Medici clicked his tongue irritably, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it, took a drag, and let the faint mint flavor fill his mouth, sharpening his mind.
He stood there, smoking one mint cigarette after another until his stash ran dry.
"This stuff's kinda addictive." Medici muttered, unsure if it was praise or complaint. Holding the last cigarette between his fingers, he glanced in a certain direction, a mocking smile curling his lips. "What, you know I won't forgive you, and you still came to apologize?"
The golden-haired priest appeared silently across from Medici. His gaze swept over the cigarette butts littering the floor, and he frowned slightly. "You should use an ashtray. This is too messy."
Medici's hand stilled, the mint cigarette crumpling under his grip. He looked up, glaring at Adam, and let out a sharp laugh. "Hahaha! What should I call you now... Angel of Imagination? Sun God? Or just Adam?"
"They're all me, ultimately." Adam said, his golden eyes meeting Medici's, his expression tinged with a sigh. "You know that, don't you? That's why you're in such… pain, Medici."
"Enough!" Medici's face hardened, like a hedgehog bristling after a soft spot was prodded. His expression turned mocking. "Sometimes I think I should take a page from Amon's book."
When it came to whether the True Creator, Adam, and others equaled the Sun God, Amon and Medici differed. Simply put, Amon rejected any "father" but the original Sun God. To Amon, anything less than 100% was fake.
"I wouldn't mind if you treated me like Amon does." Adam said calmly, his golden eyes holding a hint of warmth. "If it would set you free."
"You're still the same, huh!" Medici laughed suddenly, meeting Adam's gaze. "I wondered how much humanity would change you. Turns out, you've just gone from a cold puppet to a slightly warmer one."
Adam didn't argue, simply watching him, his golden eyes carrying a touch of sorrow and resignation.
"I'm sorry, Medici." Adam said suddenly.
"In the Fourth Epoch, I betrayed you, hurt you. I failed your trust and your loyalty."
Medici froze. Despite bracing himself, hearing the apology stunned him.
Then, somehow, he started laughing... uncontrollably, louder and louder, until his body trembled.
Adam watched silently, saying nothing.
Under that gaze, Medici's laughter faded. His face became expressionless, as if all emotion had been spent in that outburst.
He looked at Adam. "Fine, I heard your apology. And then? You expect me to forgive you?"
"I don't need your forgiveness." Adam said, shaking his head. "I just hope this eases your pain. That's what my humanity wants."
"If you really want to ease my pain, let me stab you and hang you from a lamppost with a sign that says, 'This was a necessary sacrifice,'" Medici said, his face still blank, reciting the plan he'd discussed with Alaric. "Amon can provide the background music. Got a favorite tune? How about a dirge?"
Adam listened, lowering his eyes. He didn't seem surprised, nor did he agree outright.
"Looks like our great Mr. Adam has a sense of shame after all!" Medici's blank expression broke into a sneer. He pulled an apple from somewhere and bit into it fiercely, as if tearing into someone's flesh.
Adam looked up, sighing helplessly. "The first part is fine. The second, no."
Medici raised an eyebrow, catching Adam's meaning. "You really do have shame!"
He understood... Adam was okay with the stabbing but drew the line at being hung from a lamppost with a sign and Amon's musical accompaniment.
***
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