[He should expect it by now. That none of his flippancy ever truly lands any longer, for X’rhun possesses what very few people on Eos could ever manage: a filter that divided Ardyn’s pervasive uncaring statements from his actual intent and feeling. Like sifting through sand to locate precious minerals beneath.

And it should be annoying to the man, who relies so much on this tactic that it’s hard to rebuke it when someone goes straight into the heart of the matter. But though they have been departed — and longer still for X’rhun, so it would seem — how easily they fall back into old routine. He nearly expects for him to ask the difficult questions, or at least offer a willing ear to listen to what he knows must be bothering him.

This man sees right through him, as always. Some things have not changed.]

Then you shall listen to what you have heard before. What you know about me, whether unspoken or otherwise.

[He impales a vegetable cleanly with his fork, like it were a thing to be killed before eaten.]

When we were in New Amsterdam, I was mortal — technically, at least — and I endured it simply because I knew Eos still awaited me. That there was work yet to be done, a star to drown in the endless night. And now? What reason do I have to endure anything? I do not wish to return, and… I am fairly certain that I am too tired to live, dear friend. [He exhales a breathy, ironic laugh.] And yet this vast universe cannot even grant me that much. An astral cannot be bothered to keep his promise of destiny tightening its noose around my neck.

Maybe I’ll ask a favor of you — tell you to run your sword through my heart and see if it sticks this time.