That feeling of having everything under his control was truly intoxicating, impossible to relinquish.
Smack!
Just then, someone caught his hand-it was Grisha Adam.
Amon instinctively tried to pull his fingers back, but sudden clarity swept through his mind. A slight smile followed. "Even I nearly fell for it?"
He stared at Grisha Adam. "Are you sure you can resist His temptation?"
"I'm not sure."
He admitted it frankly, then paused and smiled faintly. "But I'm still very confident I can suppress the Oldest One's consciousness."
Amon raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because the Primordial hidden deep within my consciousness may be one of those least willing to see the Oldest One awaken in this world. If the Lord of the Mysteries awakens, at worst, They'll fight again. But if the Oldest One awakens, everything will converge, and the Primordial will never have another chance to turn things around. Perhaps after convergence reaches its ultimate extreme, the Oldest One will split apart again, but the Primordial born from that split will no longer be Him."
"If you were the Primordial, what would you do?"
Surprise appeared on Amon's face. "Oh, you're killing two birds with one stone. While using the Primordial to suppress the Oldest One, you're also using the Oldest One to suppress the Primordial? You anticipated all this from the start?"
Grisha Adam did not answer. He took the "Thread" symbolizing fate from Amon's hand, sending ripples through the surrounding space. The moment the Thread touched his palm, it swiftly wound around him and sank into his skin.
In an instant, a strange light flashed through his eyes. His aura suddenly grew deep and heavy, as though he were establishing a connection with some ancient, powerful force. Endless voices rang out in his mind.
But he remained utterly unaffected