there is comfort in familiarity. in performing a task that was so engraved into him that even chaos could not make it rot away. here, the dusk god stood, staring at a group of floating islands- sky strewn, he'd been told. and he certainly didn't miss the skydoms- but there was still quite a bit of beauty in it. without the power he'd gained from his rage and grief, beelzebub knew better than to simply act on impulse. not when he was still so unfamiliar with the world, with the vulnerability-
with the chance to really build from the ground up β and oh, how he hoped he'd be able to rub it in lucilius' face! the sorry excuse for a new dawn god who had abandoned his purpose of creation to seek entropy- β
there were many beautiful places on these sky isles, so different from other parts of the strange world, but not so different from the unique styles of each skydom that he'd seen. and the people, too- different from the ones he'd observed before β but still so distant. since his creation, everything around him was as fragile as an insect β - and wasn't that what he had to do now? γ hesperus, this is what you were made for. evening star, you will then destroy and clear the way for new life. γ maybe he'd missed this more than he wanted to admit.
after a time, he spots someone interesting- rather, it seemed he had been spotted. this time, it's a young man with white hair, and he thinks back to long lost days. while his divine senses seem to have been lost somewhere in this strange awakening, his intuition remained. there's something holy- or it should've been holy. like a light that was snuffed out before it could truly burn.
he's reminded a little of lucilius.
