"You know me," Zariel said, his smile fading to a wire-thin line. His silvery leaden eyes glowed with a perception of truth that did not seem to exist in reality but beyond it, masking his true intentions eternally hidden beneath a veil of mist.
"Uncle," Altair said.
"Are you liking my gift?" Zariel asked.
Altair knew he spoke of the 'Soul of the Indomitable' and said, honor predicated in his voice, "Very much so, uncle. It has kept me sane."
"It does more than that," Zariel intoned, rising from his chair, his words echoing not through the hologram but through space and time across the vast expanse. "As you drown in the ocean of knowledge of the Realm of Spirit, you will find that it strips you of direction, of purpose. But if you wish to claim that power, truly claim it as I had done, once, to make it your own for a mere moment that allows one to see past infinity, then embrace the Soul of the Indomitable' within its depths."
