While Juliana got busy with the, uh… cleanup, I went back to reading Rexerd's journals.
Up to this point, his journals had been a chaotic mess of half-baked theories, late-night philosophical ramblings, and whatever else spilled out of a mad genius' brain at three in the morning.
Mixed in with the illogical drivel was his personal sob story.
Apparently, his fiancée left him for some prodigy Hunter a few years ago. So, he blamed the heavens for saddling him with low Soul Potential. Classic tragic backstory.
Around the same time, someone in his family died of Essence Poisoning.
He grieved. Understandably.
Then he started asking questions — the kind of questions that sound profound right up until you actually think about them.
Like, why are some people born with low Soul Potential, and others with the destiny to become humanity's greatest?
Why does Essence kill some children and turn others into superhumans?
Stuff like that.
It was sad.
Not his ramblings. No.
