"Earth made you win your bet. How very kind of it," Elias said, his voice carrying a faint trace of sarcasm.
Dreke, lost in his reverie, didn't seem to notice. He continued writing the process he was going to follow this time in the diary.
Every time he made a mistake, he crossed out the last line and wrote the correction above it.
"Kind? It was merely fulfilling its purpose. These wild places exist to be conquered and used. That world was weak and insignificant," he answered without a care in the world. "Its only value was in providing me with a stepping stone, and even that it failed to achieve perfectly."
Elias watched him, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. The coldness in his eyes intensified as he observed Dreke's every movement and every notation in the diary.
He was memorizing it all, especially the handwriting and the writing style, etching it into his mind.
