Ryku took a deep breath once he exited Dalric’s room. He hadn’t felt so on edge in years. Since Dalric had freed him and the rest of the slaves at the bottom, he hadn’t experienced the absolutely domineering presence he first felt. During their climb up, he felt much more like a man. He was still exceptionally strong, the ease with which he single-handedly tore through the Baron’s men proved that. The others still constantly talked about it in awe. He wasn’t a titan in human skin anymore, however. Just a powerful human. Powerful enough that Ryku would still gladly take him to be his master, his needs, but not as powerful as he first imagined him to be.

That is, until last night happened. It was only for a moment, a brief fleeting moment, but in that moment Ryku felt the power of a volcano erupt out of Dalric. The composition of it felt different than before. His ahjer sense wasn’t advanced enough for him to really pick out what was different, but the imperious nature of the impression remained unchanged. It was a clear reminder of why he needed to do his very best to win the man over.

The only thing that may ruin that was the potential reality that Dalric didn’t have control over his own mental facilities. From the eruption to the razor sharp swipe to the death clinch, Ryku could have died thrice last night. If he re-lived it ten times, he truly couldn’t say how many more mornings he’d wake up to see.

The clinch in particular, Dalric had almost squeezed the life out of Ryku before he crashed on top of him. At the time, he thought that was it for him. It was clearly a sign that Dalric had lost his battle with whatever sought to control him and Ryku would be the first victim. In that moment, he truly faced his mortality. That Dalric quickly passed out did not mean that all was suddenly won, merely that his body had run out of energy. Ryku kept it calm outwardly, but anxiety racked through his own body when it came time to remove the Devil Glass. It got even worse when it was just the two of them, at any given moment he could have been eliminated. In the end, his worries were only partially founded. Dalric had all but confirmed his theory, but his reaction recontextualized the death grip into just an aggressive hug. He was himself. For now.

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There would be a next time.

That was still a frightening prospect. A blood lusted Dalric could cause exceptional harm. Would cause exception harm. The loss of life would be grave. Even in a scenario where whatever fought him for control of his body did not have homicidal ambitions, as far as he was aware body hijacking was not only a lost art, but it could only occur when there was a massive gulf in power. What on Frysta could be massively stronger than Dalric?

Thankfully, it seemed that the path toward complete autonomy was already charted. Better yet, it seemed that Ryku could play a meaningful role in completing the journey. He’d have been happy to be of service even if Dalric truly didn’t want his presence, but he didn’t think his hopes were ‘ill-fated’. He thought the opposite. He could feel that he was getting closer.

He wouldn’t have mentioned a next time if his future plans didn't include me.

A smile crept onto his face. There would be a next time. He just had to be prepared.

“Ryku.” A voice called out to him, shaking him from his thoughts, “Is everything fine?” It was Adlartok, “He had six pieces in?”

He turned toward his paperwork-companion, “Adlar, we’re good. It was just an emergency measure.”

“For seventeen hours?”

“He’s a stronger man than most. You’re aware.”

“Still… to survive something like that is…”

Ryku laid a hand on the massive shoulder of the atka, “He’ll be fine. Instead of worrying about him, we should worry about those mountains of folders we have to double-check.”

Adlartok let out a pained chuckle, “Ah…”

“Now.” He swiftly gripped the shoulder before any unbecoming ideas could sprout, “Let’s get back to work.”

“Of course.”