[ He gets close enough to reach out to him — or the ever-dwindling remains of him — before he stops, observing. Amos had just cleared himself of discord, only to find it ratcheting back up in his system again, as big of a surprise as what he'd just done. Outwardly he remains stony and impassive, but inwardly there's a sense of holy shit. Even as he watches Set go through his myriad of reactions — hungry and curious and desperate and gleaming in the midst of certain death — a part of Amos remains awed.
He doesn't know what it means, that he can do this now. Doesn't know how often he should, or if he ever will again. Just that this time — this time, it was worth it.
Amos locks eyes with Set, telling himself he feels nothing. Vindication, maybe. Success. As Set takes the time to mock him, even in death —
And then he's gone. The black hole presently has nothing to consume, anything within range already swallowed up within. It's eerily still, so Amos closes the distance. Reaches out to collect Set's shard from the void. Wraps his hand around it, and begins to apply pressure from fist alone. ]
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He doesn't know what it means, that he can do this now. Doesn't know how often he should, or if he ever will again. Just that this time — this time, it was worth it.
Amos locks eyes with Set, telling himself he feels nothing. Vindication, maybe. Success. As Set takes the time to mock him, even in death —
And then he's gone. The black hole presently has nothing to consume, anything within range already swallowed up within. It's eerily still, so Amos closes the distance. Reaches out to collect Set's shard from the void. Wraps his hand around it, and begins to apply pressure from fist alone. ]