[Master, if I may be blunt…] Thea's voice, usually a model of calm and logical , was laced with a words sounded remarkably like disgust.
[She is a predator. She enslaves the young men of her worlds, breaks their wills, and uses them for her own amusement. I have seen it all. It is… disgusting.]
Sunny listened, a thoughtful silence filling his God space. He decided to test the boundaries of his creation's newfound personality. "But what can we say, Thea?" he asked, his tone deliberately casual. "They are her creations. Does a painter not have the right to burn his own canvas?"
[I disagree, Master,] Thea replied instantly, her conviction unwavering.
