Facing Annan's calm counter-question, the grey deity said nothing.
He just sighed deeply.
That other face of his, always changing, finally began to show sorrow, just like his other face that seemed to be perpetually weeping.
The next moment, the deity riddled with cracks finally crumbled apart.
Like grey petals, or perhaps moths.
The fragments that detached from His body floated in the still air, forming a vast tornado... blowing towards the distant skyline.
And below it stood a young man with white hair and a body full of cracks, rooted to the spot.
He seemed especially frail.
If one observed closely, this was how he looked before he took on the mantle of "Eternal Duke."
This was a nightmare world constructed from the desires of many.
This probably meant that...
Midas's deepest wish now was to not become the "Eternal Duke" all those years ago.
"...Can I talk to Elle?"
