"Tell me something, Uncle," Yu'Keto said quietly.
"You have watched civilizations rise, fracture, and rot until nothing remained but ash. You have destroyed worlds, sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of pleasure."
He lifted his eyes.
"At what point did you stop believing that sparing them mattered?"
A pause.
"And did it come before, or after you realized that everything you spared would only die screaming later?"
Alameck studied him in silence for a long moment, fingers resting idly against the arm of his obsidian throne. The faint purple glow along the carvings pulsed once, as if the ruin itself were breathing.
At last, he spoke.
"That is a very interesting question you are posing, nephew," Alameck said, his voice calm, almost amused. "One does not ask such things out of idle curiosity."
His ashen eyes narrowed slightly.
"But before I decide whether you are deserving of an answer," he continued, "I would have you do something first."
