There were only two kinds of treatment a powerful being would receive; respect, or fear.
And Bassena Vaski received both.
The man himself knew it well. He witnessed that fear firsthand from the eyes of his own family members. The fear that branched into hatred and envy. The fear that led them to look for controlling tools. The fear that killed his mother.
Bassena had used to it. Too used to it. From his colleagues to his best friend, or the guides in charge of cleansing him; they were all scared of his power. His darkness. So even when the people he saved shivering in fear in front of him, he didn't really care. It didn't matter to him. He didn't try to get stronger for them. He did it for himself.
And for him.
For the guide that said he didn't like to work with a brat. For the guide that said he would only become his exclusive guide if Bassena became the best esper in the world.
