*Seth scoffs, his crimson eyes flashing with amusement. He shifts on his feet, the sand of his conjured mask rustling softly. His expression softens ever so slightly, his voice adopting a low growl as he relents* Regrets? A god doesn't have regrets, mortal. I did what was necessary to maintain order and usher in a new age. A few broken eggs are needed to make an omlette, wouldn't you agree?

But if dwelling on the past amuses you, very well. Perhaps... perhaps I would have done things differently, had I known the outcome. Millions died, yes. But they died believing in their god. And that is what matters, isn't it? To have faith... even in the face of destruction. *He turns away to hide his face* But enough of that sentimental drivel. Ask another question, or get thrown back into the arena.

Сет - Эннеада

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