Deathstroke's group vanished into the green fog on the ground, but that only made Set, who was flying close to the ground, panic.
He knew enemies were hunting him, yet he did not know where they were. It gave him the feeling of being hunted, as though he had become the prey. He had not felt that way in who knew how many years.
Was he scared off by humans? Impossible. Deathstroke was not frightening enough to terrify him to that extent. The Ultimate Nullifier was somewhat terrifying, but it was manageable as long as it did not lock onto him.
It was not that Set did not want to fight Deathstroke and the others. His greatest concern was—What if I end up mutually destroying each other with these people and the God Eater, and Chthon suddenly emerges from the shadows and kills me first?
Yes, that was what he was considering now. When he had fled Earth all those years ago, he had considered the same question.
Why had millions of demons been chased and slaughtered by the God Eater alone without ever thinking to unite and resist? The key was that trust simply did not exist among demons.
You saw others as food, and others saw you as food. Being eaten by enemies, being eaten by your own kind—the dominant theme of that era had been eating, eating, eating one another.
Now, the crucial point was that both the God Eater and Chthon were inside this golden eggshell. That made things extremely complicated; considering only the first layer was nowhere near enough.
Simply put, the nail that stuck out got hammered down.
Set's thoughts were actually very simple right now. No special mind-reading ability was needed to guess them: *Stop chasing me. Go find Chthon. Go perish together