[ Oh, there you are, Carver thinks, and the triumph twists sick in his throat. He knows what men are deep down, what they always are in the end. The vicious, hungry things that men become when their backs go to the wall, when they learn what they could lose. Only his people were ever pure. This stillness fits strange on Cy, like maybe he's put it aside for a long time. Like he tried to hide it but it boiled back up. What sort of ghosts follow behind a god, Carver wonders. What does he name them. Do they stand in the corners like Carver's do. Do they do they do they.
Carver just smiles. I see you, he thinks. I fucking see you. ]
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Carver just smiles. I see you, he thinks. I fucking see you. ]
What're you the god of?