"Thanks," Mithos says, gingerly taking Zelos' core crystal from Sheena. He turns it over in his hands, probing it gently with his own ether, pinging it for regular system checks. Zelos' ether doesn't feel sick, and there are no cracks or deformations on his crystal, so Zelos is probably okay. Mithos almost thinks thank the Architect before he remembers the Architect is exactly why they're in this mess to begin with.

"Yeah, he's fine," Mithos reports, handing Zelos' core crystal back to Sheena. "At least, he isn't damaged, which is what I was worried about. Father should know better than to play around with that much ether." Mithos scowls, trying to wrestle with the icy bitterness that rests in his core. His hands clench, unclench, clench again at his sides. "I mean, I'm glad he got us out of that mess, but there were definitely better ways to do that than just blowing Zelos up. He could have killed us. All of us. If I'd reacted just a second slower--"

Mithos breaks off, keeps glaring. More than angry, he feels betrayed. If Father wanted to help, why choose Zelos, instead of his son? Was it because he thought Zelos expendable?

Mithos isn't really sure he prefers that option. In fact, he's quite sure he doesn't.

"But maybe Father doesn't care about that," Mithos whispers, tired, furious. "I wouldn't be surprised."