There was so much power. So much. Far more than he had ever anticipated. The power of a God was something else – and now Claudia had been a foolish enough wench to add hers into the mix too. It was like a cooking pot of the finest meal, and soon it would be cooked, and a portion of that power was sure to be his.
He'd seen the strength of it already, as wielded by Beam, and he knew that to only be a portion of it. There was no way a mortal could manifest it all truly and completely. But Francis was sure he could – given enough time. He had more tools and knowledge at his disposal than a mere boy. Granted such a thing, he would make it his life's work to control it.
And yet… It wasn't he that was granted it. The thought sullied his smile, and brought him grimly back to reality. It was he that had been chosen to be the centre of this power, the centre of the stage that Francis himself had made… It was some boy of unknown origin.
