Arkadius's smile held depths that seemed to mock reality itself as he contemplated the elegant complexity of his orchestration. His red eyes gleamed with satisfaction that transcended mere tactical success—this was artist appreciating masterwork that had required millennia to achieve proper form.
"To be honest, I'm not in full control of the other ego," he began with tone that suggested confession yet carried undertones of pride rather than concern. "Somehow it dominated and hijacked one of my fragments, creating entirely new sense of self using power I had the Icarus cult cultivate specifically for this purpose."
