Not too much, no. Even Emet-Selch may not be able to full deny the instincts that have risen within him, but he is still willing to be patient. To wait while Elidibus thinks matters over and though he is, to some extent, aware that this is likely as much a product of the instincts he has been saddled with as it is his own nature, he is none the less willing to wait. To give Elidibus that time, even as he notes the lingering fear. Fear that speaks to the terror that all but surely has Elidibus fully within his grasp and is no doubt even now warring with his more logical side.
And irony it is indeed, to find faith in fear.
"I do. As would any of us who survived those final days."
Theirs had been the hands that first created Zodiark. It had been they who had longed for salvation so desperately as to create the first primal and imbue it with naught less than a desire for hope. For salvation, and the possibility that there might be a light in the darkness.
"Have I ever given you cause to imagine I would be less than thorough?"
He doesn't wait for answer. Instead, he reaches for power yet remaining to him, before - with a thoroughly familiar snap - calling bindings into being. Ones that Elidibus will no doubt recall from when he had bound a misbehaving piece of technology, though he will find that these are wrought in such as to be not easily broken, even with the power Elidibus still commands. Admittedly, for the sake of simplicity he has only opted to bind Elidibus' hands and feet but that will sufficient to keep him from fleeing - and with any luck, the unearthly glow of the bindings will be enough to mark ELidibus as his to claim and thus keep any further predators away.
"You will need to walk, yet, on our return."
The bindings around Elidibus' feet allow him enough space to do that, if only just. And with them being as tuned to Emet-Selch's very will as they are, there is reason enough to expect that attempts to flee would result in not even that much of an allowance.
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And irony it is indeed, to find faith in fear.
"I do. As would any of us who survived those final days."
Theirs had been the hands that first created Zodiark. It had been they who had longed for salvation so desperately as to create the first primal and imbue it with naught less than a desire for hope. For salvation, and the possibility that there might be a light in the darkness.
"Have I ever given you cause to imagine I would be less than thorough?"
He doesn't wait for answer. Instead, he reaches for power yet remaining to him, before - with a thoroughly familiar snap - calling bindings into being. Ones that Elidibus will no doubt recall from when he had bound a misbehaving piece of technology, though he will find that these are wrought in such as to be not easily broken, even with the power Elidibus still commands. Admittedly, for the sake of simplicity he has only opted to bind Elidibus' hands and feet but that will sufficient to keep him from fleeing - and with any luck, the unearthly glow of the bindings will be enough to mark ELidibus as his to claim and thus keep any further predators away.
"You will need to walk, yet, on our return."
The bindings around Elidibus' feet allow him enough space to do that, if only just. And with them being as tuned to Emet-Selch's very will as they are, there is reason enough to expect that attempts to flee would result in not even that much of an allowance.