"Do you understand why I can't be your guardian now?"

“No.”

Masque lets the form under their skin flicker through again. "I'm Sinspawn."

Zveran stands up shakily, walking to Masque on fawn-like knees. He stands in front of Masque, and raises his hands to try and cup their face. 

They flinch away, forcing themself back to something resembling human.

Zveran lets his hands drop. 

“You’ve been Sinspawn the whole time, yes?”

They shrug.

"Then why would my opinion of you change? You clearly don't follow Sin."

"That doesn't mean I won't."

"I don't believe that you would. And I don't think you believe it either."

"You make no sense."

"I wasn't aware I ever had."

Masque sighs. "You won't be dissuaded will you?"

"Masque, if I have ever given you the impression that I wouldn't be your friend, I heartily apologise. I am utterly devoted to you."

"That is not-" Masque stops. "That is, this is...a peculiar state of affairs."

"We are a peculiar set of people."

"I'm not human. I never will be again."

"Either is Aten."

"Yes. But he's an aeon. I'm the thing you're supposed to destroy. Part of it at least."

Zveran flinches back. "I...I can't do that. I won't destroy you."

"You're a Summoner. It's your calling."

Zveran wants to say 'I'd rather die'. But dying is rather the point of a summoner, isn't it?

He makes a frustrated noise, kicking at the nearest whatever, impotent.

Masque twitches, not quite flinches. "There's no point in being angry about the way things are."

"I accepted that I'm going to die. I'm passed being frightened of that. But I-"

He looks over to them, his heart aching. "I can't kill you."

"-I'm already dead."