'Arrogant, cold, insufferable bastards.'
Simon had met enough gods in his previous life to recognise the attitude. Mara had answered the question she was given. The God of War had asked why she was there, and she had explained.
How was she supposed to hear, "Why did you think you could interrupt me?" inside those words?
Apparently, understanding a god included guessing what he had neglected to say.
Simon glanced at Mara with a faint trace of pity. She was accustomed to commanding armies, not dealing with beings who could change a question and blame others for answering the original.
The God of War was particularly unpleasant in that regard.
Suddenly, another pulse of pain scattered his thoughts.
Unholy Regeneration continued repairing his body, but the foreign Aether kept undoing too much of its work. He was not recovering quickly enough. The god could finish this conversation and find him dead without lifting another finger.
'Time... isn't enough.'
