"No one even remembers what it's like to have you around," Oriole said with a shake of his head. "If you ask me, then that sounds just like losing them."
"I don't need them to like me or remember me," Arthur said while raising his hands and staring at them. "I just need them to be alive. This is the difference, Oriole. I don't mind it if no one likes me. But I've seen it."
"Seen what?" Oriole asked as Arthur paused, as if in a dream.
"I've seen what would happen when the Nameless takes over this world," he said and stared at Oriole. "I've seen worlds that were sucked dry by the gods. I can't have the same happen to ours."
"I know," Oriole said with a sigh. "I understand that it's a burden to make a difference. But—"
"You don't," Arthur said as his hands turned to fists. His expression was unreadable, but if one looked beneath the surface, they could see the throat-cutting rage within him. "No one does."
