[ Midnight grunts, remembers Spot repeating on your right, your right, on your right, dumbass, and shoves away Kaveh's blade just enough to create space. Kaveh has better range than him, but with a blade like his, he can only move so fast. And Midnight understands what it takes to defeat someone who outmatches him. He takes risks, then prepares to create solutions for his deficiencies. He is used to seeing the world in these sorts of risks.

He thought about answering Netzach, thought again. Revised. ]

Perhaps.

[ Said as though he really, truly thought, at one point, the answer was no. The pointed ears and teeth, though... Maybe, in this one specific story, he can afford to tighten his expectations somewhat.

But the script comes to him before his own. When the wind comes for Kaveh's wings, it's only the understanding that this little god commands him that turns his blade from Kaveh's heart to the fold of his sleeve, slicing it cleanly over his arm.

He pauses there, blade hovering over skin, fire already dying at his feet. ]

I fell away from the grace of the gods long ago. If a god cannot take my reins, I shall take my feet and walk where I will. This is how a demon chooses: my answers come from myself. Where there are no gods to save me, I create my own.

[ Then quietly, to Kaveh. ]

Darling, cut me if you like. You can find out for yourself.

[ There is no Originium in this world. The demon Midnight is in this story has never suffered from so much as a headache in his life. ]