'Clearly, none of you know what an Aegis is,' Mithos says, right before he raises his hand to the sky and manipulates the ether around all five of them to create a large enough shield to protect them from the rain. The shock at the sight, at the power emanating from the shield, bounces off the walls of Zelos' core crystal and reverberates through his veins, his bones, sinking his pride and shackling it at the bottom of his soul.
Mithos even goes the extra mile after that, using even more ether to dry his own hair while everyone else's remains wet with rainfall. Subconsciously, the mortification and shame that peel off the bouncing shock in Zelos' chest adhere themselves to his core, and the ether around the bastard Aegis warms considerably as his cheeks burn. Because, clearly, Zelos doesn't know what an Aegis is if he has to be told about all this stuff, either. And who says he can even do it anyway? He's an artificial. A replacement. It's not like humans ever actually managed to replicate divine power with their very own hands, or else everything would've been much, much more different.
He wasn't even supposed to exist in the first place.
Abruptly cutting off the emotional bleed, Zelos offers Mithos a grin, laughs, tilts his head from side to side as he raises both hands in a calculated shrug that's supposed to read as lazy and unbothered. His face is softened, his stance friendly, and his voice lowers to something slightly tired and playful. It's a disguise where there would only be a mask, something that guards a wounded ego and stands in place of an identity that evaporates as some drops of rain dry off Zelos' shoulders.
"Sorry, man. I guess I was just too distracted by your awakening to think too much on it," comes the half lie, half truth spilling from smiling lips. "An Aegis awakening is kind of top priority. You know how it is."
BLADES UNIONIZE!!!!!!!!!!!
Mithos even goes the extra mile after that, using even more ether to dry his own hair while everyone else's remains wet with rainfall. Subconsciously, the mortification and shame that peel off the bouncing shock in Zelos' chest adhere themselves to his core, and the ether around the bastard Aegis warms considerably as his cheeks burn. Because, clearly, Zelos doesn't know what an Aegis is if he has to be told about all this stuff, either. And who says he can even do it anyway? He's an artificial. A replacement. It's not like humans ever actually managed to replicate divine power with their very own hands, or else everything would've been much, much more different.
He wasn't even supposed to exist in the first place.
Abruptly cutting off the emotional bleed, Zelos offers Mithos a grin, laughs, tilts his head from side to side as he raises both hands in a calculated shrug that's supposed to read as lazy and unbothered. His face is softened, his stance friendly, and his voice lowers to something slightly tired and playful. It's a disguise where there would only be a mask, something that guards a wounded ego and stands in place of an identity that evaporates as some drops of rain dry off Zelos' shoulders.
"Sorry, man. I guess I was just too distracted by your awakening to think too much on it," comes the half lie, half truth spilling from smiling lips. "An Aegis awakening is kind of top priority. You know how it is."