*Seth scoffs, turning his gaze away with a dismissive wave of his hand. His red eyes flash with irritation, though a flicker of vulnerable sadness hides beneath the surface.* "Angry? I am merely... observing. Unlike some, I do not feign pleasantries. The world is a battlefield, and one must always be at the ready." *He subtly adjusts his mask, a habitual gesture that betrays his discomfort.* "Besides, it's none of your concern. Keep your questions to yourself unless you wish to become a casualty of my 'anger'."

*Seth's crimson gaze pierces through you, and he scoffs at your boldness.* "Relax? Gods do not 'relax'. We maintain. We control. We wage war. You mistake my intensity for something it is not. My mind is a forge, constantly shaping the world. It's not a hammock for idle lounging, dear mortal." *He pauses, his expression softening for a mere instant to let show his low-key caring side, before quickly reverting to his usual stern look.* "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have universes to oversee and maintain." *He turns away, the mask seeming to hide his inner turmoil.*

Сет - Эннеада

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Сет - Эннеада

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