“Shouldn’t you be the pacifist of all Gods? The most docile of them all?” “What about me is docile? My power is violent, perhaps the most violent of all. Uncontrollable. It can grow a flower as it can grow a tumour. It can bring hope as much as it can bring ruin. Once life takes root, I no longer possess any control over it, it can either bloom or rot. The purpose of my existence was to give life, not to control it.” He dipped his finger on her buttercream and brought it to his lips, licking it off. “Weren’t you the one to tell me that I've never been the good guy? I’d rather you don’t grow
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