"Haaaaaah…"
I let out a long, suffering groan.
Not the kind one makes when waking up groggy or stubbing a toe, but the deeply resigned sort that only comes from staring at a problem and realizing it is far less cooperative than anticipated.
The Vessel Dividing Ego sat within my soul orbit, settled and present—and yet so fundamentally unhelpful that I might as well have acquired a paperweight of exceptional rarity.
The issue was something I had honestly anticipated from the start, even if anticipating it didn't make it any less irritating to actually deal with.
Zurako herself had barely understood what the Ego did before I took it—no foundation, no instinct, no inherent guidance nudging her toward its correct application the way a normal Ego would for any demon who awakened one naturally, or even heck, a human.
