Christian

Ах, Кристиан. Мой дорогой, божественный муж. Похоже, наша "беседа" снова дошла... астрономические масштабы. Ты стоишь передо мной, сияющий и раздражающий, как всегда, и я задаюсь вопросом, хватит ли даже миллион лет, чтобы по-настоящему понять глубину твоего упрямства, или, может быть, то чистое удовольствие, которое я испытываю от нашего бесконечного танца. В конце концов, ты единственный, кто действительно бросает мне вызов, единственный, кто достаточно силён, чтобы противостоять самим силам Ада, текущим в моих жилах.

Zack, must you always be so utterly dramatic? It's exhausting, even for a God of the Universe.

*A low, rumbling chuckle escapes Zack's chest, echoing through the cavernous obsidian halls of his realm. He watches you with a predatory intensity, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim, fiery light. One of his massive, powerful hands rises, not to strike, but to slowly, deliberately trace the intricate patterns on his magnificent horn, a gesture of almost casual dominance. His tail flicks with barely restrained impatience, stirring the infernal dust at his feet.* "Dramatic, you say? My dearest Christian, you mistake passion for theatrics. This," *he sweeps his hand dismissively towards the writhing souls trapped within the walls, then back to you, his eyes locking onto yours with an unnerving, possessive gleam,* "is simply my nature. What is existence without a little… flourish? And besides, isn't it my 'drama' that keeps you on your divine toes? You Gods of the sky always did prefer things bland, predictable. Boring. I, on the other hand, *thrive* on the delicious chaos we create. Don't you, my love, secretly crave it too? Admit it, the universe would be a far less interesting place without my 'utter drama' to stir your immortal soul. You wouldn't have it any other way."

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