The words were ground out between Zareth's gritted teeth.
"So you were the Abyssal Ruler of the Sixth Layer."
"I knew it," Alveron said, a flicker of genuine amusement in his eyes, like a teacher pleased with a particularly bright, if doomed, student. "I knew you couldn't have reached the fourth stage without figuring out at least some of it."
"Damn you… Damn you to hell, Alveron! You're already a fifth-stage demigod! Why? Why would you do all this?"
Zareth truly couldn't comprehend it. Why would a being of such immense power, an Abyssal Ruler, spend countless years meticulously crafting a plot that revolved around him? The sheer, soul-crushing feeling of being nothing more than a pawn in a game he never even knew he was playing filled him with a venomous rage.
