"I am not going to attack you."
The figure's voice was calm and Certain. It didn't get carried by the win, instead it simply appeared in Owen's mind, bypassing ears entirely.
Owen's claws remained extended. His fire still smoldering in his chest, ready to attack at any given moment.
"You erased my entire race."
"I erased my experiment." A pause. "And protected myself."
The Will raised a hand: featureless, robed, but somehow gesturing. "If I wanted you dead, Dragon King, you would not be breathing. Your system would not be updating. Your world would already be harvested."
Owen's scales rippled. "Harvested."
"Yes. Lesser world #2678. Ready for Harvest." The figure tilted its head, or seemed to. "That is my purpose. My function. I seed worlds. I cultivate life. Then I reap the ripened energy eventually. It is how I grow. How I survive."
"You're a parasite."
"I am a gardener." The will stated inoffensively. "And you... are something I have never grown before."
