It was quiet everywhere. Gadreel had never had many servants. Just a few necessary ones. Ones he could trust. If anyone asked him whether he preferred to be feared or loved, he would've deemed the question pointless. It was so easy to be both simultaneously.

Treat them well like they were a part of yourself, but let them see the uglier side of yourself. In an understandable light, of course. Everything in the world had an ugly side to it. Gadreel was no different. For that, they could love as well as fear him.

The thing was that Gadreel fundamentally didn't feel anything from treating people well. On occasion, he gave bonus checks to his maids. They cried, kissing his hand, spent it on their children or whatever they wished, and had a glint in their eye for a while. Gadreel curved his lips up at all that, but what he understood others to feel deep in their core was alien to him. The touch of an ethereal force on the soul caused by the interaction of some kind seemed like a worldwide deception.

Grief? Joy? Surprise? Horror? Disgust? All just an external perception as far as Gadreel was concerned. He'd learned how they looked on others and what they did to people, how they made them act and how he could use them. But never had he felt any of that. That... touch was...

Gadreel made it to the dining hall's door and pushed it open, intruding on the silence that had continued on and on ever since he woke. And in his white getup, he walked over to the table that had been set for him.

He sat down and ate, thoughtless.

The consumption of food. Being alive.

There were people who starved to death. Gadreel had once thought he would too. Then he realized that he was a different human. That he did not know his parents, perhaps not because they had abandoned him, but because they did not exist. A human like that. A person? A child of the world. An intellect conceived for the purpose of experience. But a lacking experience. One beyond the heart.

Beyond good and evil.

How was it to take control? Observing this weird race of people and finding that you are above them. Only to find that you are not. That existence, after all, is equal. That while people die to their feelings, you who would die for them, are just the same but different. And how you view each other is just a matter of... delusion, under which lies a truth so simple you want to reject it for being what it is in a manner so straightforward that it seems like an act of disrespect in and of itself.

How dare you sully my perfectly incomprehensible existence? How dare you show me a God to being in the form of simplistic discovery?

People want to understand. They don't want to understand. In whichever order. Life, while shoved into a box, is sensation without explanation. A mystery, not to be solved, but observed. Recognized for all its absurdity while passing by.

That is... what is... life.

"Pain once shook me awake. Now I sleep again. And I am afraid," Gadreel muttered as he finished his food.

"Excuse me." The voice of a young man surprised him slightly. "Did you say something to me?"

"Qiel," Gadreel said sluggishly. "I didn't know you were coming."

Qiel showed himself through the door opposite Gadreel, wearing his Western-style hat even while inside. "You didn't get my letter?"

"Letter?" Gadreel raised his brows at that. "I haven't read any." Then he gestured at a chair. No matter. Sit."

Qiel went to take a seat but seemed uncomfortable still. "Is something the matter?"

"How so?"

"You look like you haven't slept."

"I have slept. Plenty."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Qiel nodded hastily. "Right, of course."

Gadreel rubbed his face. "What do you think about me, Qiel?"

"W— What?" Qiel seemed to tense at the question and fell silent, but Gadreel's gaze told him to answer. After stuttered mumbling he managed. "You're a supremely intelligent man without limit in the world."

Gadreel yawned. "I mean my personality. Intelligence is not a personality trait."

Qiel was even more baffled by this and seemed to want to move on to another topic, but Gadreel knew what he would say.

"You're a... generous man. A model of what a human should be. You're tactful even if ruthless in the pursuit of your goals. And you are strong, in an intangible way."

Gadreel gave a slight smile. "A model..." he tilted his head at Qiel. "Do you know what I think the Idea of a Human is?"

Qiel gulped audibly, having some sort of image in his head. "I— I don't, I'm afraid."

Gadreel looked downwards to the side. "I've always thought the most human human that all humans aspire to be is one that feels most deeply. I have seen men like that. Men so full of contempt they have crushed their wives and stabbed their children. I have also seen men who are so deeply and unwaveringly enamored that their courage is unbeaten and their endurance for suffering limitless. But there is a one-dimensionality to these beings. I have rarely seen men who exhibit both qualities. Never both to an extreme. But those people might still be called two-dimensional. Do you think the Idea of a Human is two-dimensional?"

Qiel shook his head.

Gadreel looked back at him. "Then how many?"

"T— Three?" Qiel answered, a whine to his shaky voice.

"Yes," Gadreel nodded. Then more enthusiastically. "Yes! Qiel it is good that you came. Good. Very good, in fact. For quite some time now, I have felt that I am dead. You remind me that I am not. Not yet." Gadreel closed his eyes and breathed deeply with his chin to the ceiling. "You are correct. The Idea of a Human is three-dimensional much like this reality of ours. The Idea of a Human feels a stabbing contempt as well as a limitless love, however, it does not stop there." Gadreel was glad to be speaking again, but he gave a turn to Qiel. "What more is there?"

"Both... At the same time?"

"Yes, of course. Both. Three-dimensions is a world in and of itself. It is a world of feeling. Of sensation." Gadreel spread his arms in a grand manner before squeezing them back in close and putting the tips of his fingers to his temple. "But we humans live in our minds. The world is truly ours. But at the same time, we have never touched the world. We are animals. We have brains. We live through these brains. But the brain never touches. The brain never sees, hears, smells, or tastes. Our bodies do, and they tell us what it is like." Gadreel moved his hand on his forehead before drawing it away as his eyes watched. "So then, to be three-dimensional, one must transcend our bodies. One must feel the world for everything it is. Feel the contempt, feel the love, feel both, feel what is beyond, in between, and all at once. That... is the Idea of a Human."

Qiel blinked and it was silent for long. A pleasant silence. Expanding on the little Gadreel felt was always pleasant. Or at least serene.

As he saw that Qiel was afraid to speak, he talked first. "Well, onto other matters." He gestured with a hand. "Please, go on."

"Right." Qiel nodded and cleared his throat. "As I'm sure you recall, I sent you a report on a matter in Arlryk that might've interested you approximately 7 months ago. About a figure called the liveD."

"And there has been a new development?" Gadreel asked, raising his brows in genuine interest.

"Well, you see, I believe the liveD is the son of Ares," Qiel declared. "I know you believe he is in hiding, waiting for the dust to settle in Mircrest, and you have increased protection on the Acelot branch in case of an assault, but I ask that you will hear my theory."

Gadreel smiled lightly. "Oh, but of course I will hear it."

"Thank you, Sir." Qiel interlocked his fingers and smiled nervously. Then he started building a puzzle with his words and solved it while Gadreel observed his speculations, commenting here and there.

The theory was logical. All the way from how the liveD was most likely to be one man rather than a group to how impractical it was to stay in Mircrest.

"So the son of Ares left Mircrest and went to Arkryk to continue his battle against organizations whose existences he objects to?" Gadreel looked for confirmation. Qiel gave it in the form of a nod. "And while he is strong enough to kill off the Evaporation Squadron, he just abandoned the ones responsible for him being hunted? Why not attack Acelot? Or any branch for that matter? Or even the president now that he knows that he works for me?" Gadreel paused only to let Qiel open his mouth but stay silent. "That's right. 'Why?' is the question. Your puzzle is one with pieces missing. I work with a puzzle like that as well, however, I do not involve you in that work. Please refrain from doing the same to me," Gadreel concluded and stood.

Qiel simply nodded and left his gaze downcast. "I see. I am sorry."

"Don't be. I was interested to hear of Uzbec's return. Thank you for bringing that to me," Gadreel said not to beat the poor young man into a hole. He meant it. William had once said he would rather have an Uzbec than a Sherridan. The man's capabilities were known far and wide. It was truly rare to find an individual who accepted his nature when it was one of unfiltered but controlled violence. "Now, I must go. I tire of this day. I wish for the next to come soon."

Fortunately, the next was soon. As it was then. Right before he saw William the next time.

The last time.