Work Text:
For someone so furiously involved in theatrics, Zenos’ lacklustre response to his actions was a spear to the psyche.
Inevitably, it wouldn’t matter. None of it would matter. Directing Zenos to the endgame of Zodiark was the goal, something that filled his mind and his dreams day in and day out, and influencing the counters on the check-patterned board was easy in itself, but would it kill him to react a little?
An audience member, a little interaction.
No, all he cared about was that vile little speck. That Warrior of Light. Another important piece on the chessboard that didn’t acknowledge his genius.
At the lack of attention, he mimed stabbing himself in the gut.