Socrates was someone ancient.
A being the realm itself had chosen to lock away.
Xenos looked at that 'being' through the metal bars for a while, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dark.
"Well..."
He let out a long breath.
"I'm in good company, it seems."
He then chuckled, the sound echoing.
"No wonder you're so strong."
Socrates tilted his head, the long curtain of matted hair sliding to one side; his similarly gray eyes' dulling a little behind it.
"Is that all?"
Xenos blinked.
"Hm?"
It seemed Socrates was expecting more of a reaction.
Unfortunately, he was dealing with Xenos, someone who never acted the way anyone wanted, practically the most unpredictable existence in this stratum, one day perhaps even in this entire realm.
"You want more?"
Socrates stared for a moment, only to shake his head, actually giving up.
"No, never mind. Just... listen up, boy…"
He pointed at his legs, bound in thick, rusted chains that still shimmered with Divinity.
