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Amon gripped Klein's chin, lifting it up and forcing Klein to meet his eyes. Klein flinched upon realizing that he was unable to move—he had had his ability to move stolen from him!
He had no choice but to look directly into the clear crystal monocle gleaming in front of him as Amon smirked faintly.
“Mr. Fool, trying to run away again?"
Klein could not respond, for he had not been given his voice back yet.
Amon’s lips widened into a cruel smile as he watched Klein struggle to break free from "His" grasp, but was unable to do so, thanks to the theft "He" had performed on him earlier.
"He" noticed that Klein was thinking about evoking the true name of the Storm God, Leodero. "He" thought it was amusing how such an interesting human at such a low stature thought this would go unnoticed by “Him”.
But—“He” thought it was interesting. Klein had not tried to invoke the true name of the Storm God before.
So Amon decided to let that thought be. “He” was curious—oh so curious—at just how Klein would attempt escape! Then "He" would track him down and capture him once again.
Though Klein couldn’t move his eyes, Amon could have sworn “He” caught the faintest flicker of defiance in them.
Ah, this was what made this toy so interesting, Amon thought to “Himself” as “He” drew “His” hand away from Klein's chin. “He” watched in fascination as the Scholar of Yore exhaled slightly, sweat trickling from his forehead.
Amon pinched the monocle on "His" right eye, looking down at Klein, who had just opened his mouth to shout "Leodero”.
Amon watched as a bolt of lightning ripped from the clouds above, aiming towards the two.
At the very last moment, he outstretched his hand, plucking the lightning from the storm.
Klein looked up, shocked, as there remained nothing where lightning should have been. He clenched his jaw, the small spark of hope he had gained upon enacting this plan extinguished.
Amon smiled amicably, squatting down until “He” met the other’s eyes once again.
“He” pinched his crystal monocle, observing Klein, who stood rooted to the spot despite—or perhaps due to—his fear, as he shook slightly, yet made no new attempt at escape.
"Tsk, tsk. You’re really making a habit of this, you know?"