Despite himself, Mithos is a lot fonder of Lloyd right now than he has any right to be. But they're fighting towards the same goal, and seeing Lloyd ruthlessly press towards it? Mithos is glad they're on the same page. His own sword weighs heavy and brilliant in his hands, a chunk of the daytime sky that cleaves easily through one guard, and then another, killing both them and their blades.
Unnecessary violence, one might say, but Mithos thinks otherwise. Witnesses can't speak if they're dead. By the time anyone figures out what happened here, they'll all be long gone.
Mithos wonders, briefly, if it's worth keeping anyone alive long enough to interrogate, then discards the thought. If there's one good thing about blade eaters...
"Malos?" he asks, looking over his shoulder. "Which way?"
"Hold on," Malos says, and he's clearly off balance, still sluggish. (And that's why there's only one good thing about blade eaters.) "Sorry. Ether's pretty thin wherever they've got Anna. I'm okay, but. Feeling it."
Mithos' ether boils, all of his worry and terror sharpening into rage that pounds like drums against his core. How dare they do that to Kratos!?
(His mind helpfully supplies Kratos' reaction last time he was deprived of even a little bit of ether, and all Mithos feels is cold cold cold fury. He pushes it aside. No matter what state they're going to find Kratos in, it doesn't matter, in the end. It doesn't change anything.)
"Then we need to hurry," Mithos says, sharp. "Which. way?"
Malos points, not vaguely, but not exactly usefully, either. A straight line will not get them through walls-- though Mithos isn't exactly against knocking walls down, if they have to.
"Dunno if you want me going first," Malos adds with a frustrated exhale as he lets his arm drop. "Probably gonna be useless against any guards we run into. So. Thoughts?"
"I don't intend to leave anyone here alive," Mithos says. "Splitting up isn't exactly the smartest option, but if I draw their attention..."
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Unnecessary violence, one might say, but Mithos thinks otherwise. Witnesses can't speak if they're dead. By the time anyone figures out what happened here, they'll all be long gone.
Mithos wonders, briefly, if it's worth keeping anyone alive long enough to interrogate, then discards the thought. If there's one good thing about blade eaters...
"Malos?" he asks, looking over his shoulder. "Which way?"
"Hold on," Malos says, and he's clearly off balance, still sluggish. (And that's why there's only one good thing about blade eaters.) "Sorry. Ether's pretty thin wherever they've got Anna. I'm okay, but. Feeling it."
Mithos' ether boils, all of his worry and terror sharpening into rage that pounds like drums against his core. How dare they do that to Kratos!?
(His mind helpfully supplies Kratos' reaction last time he was deprived of even a little bit of ether, and all Mithos feels is cold cold cold fury. He pushes it aside. No matter what state they're going to find Kratos in, it doesn't matter, in the end. It doesn't change anything.)
"Then we need to hurry," Mithos says, sharp. "Which. way?"
Malos points, not vaguely, but not exactly usefully, either. A straight line will not get them through walls-- though Mithos isn't exactly against knocking walls down, if they have to.
"Dunno if you want me going first," Malos adds with a frustrated exhale as he lets his arm drop. "Probably gonna be useless against any guards we run into. So. Thoughts?"
"I don't intend to leave anyone here alive," Mithos says. "Splitting up isn't exactly the smartest option, but if I draw their attention..."
He lets that offer hang in the air, and waits.