"Thank you for your help earlier, Nyarlathotep-san."
Amu spoke as honestly as she was able. Truthfully, she was grateful; if it hadn't helped her, she'd be dead. Dead, or worse than dead. That didn't make Nyarlathotep less disturbing to look at, nor could she tell herself it was actually a nice person. She already knew it wasn't; even if it hadn't been obvious, it had readily told her so. She couldn't even trust in her defences, not with Fumi here for it to use as a hostage.
She looked into the abyss, and the abyss looked back.
(Elder god, a part of her gibbered, recognizing the name and appearance from myths and histories she had never read.)
Small wonder, then, that she followed her parents' lead and fell back on politeness. Her voice trembled only a little as she continued, but it did tremble. Her eyes glistened with tears—unshed, but undeniably there. Most noticeably of all, the brand on her forehead burst into brilliant light.
Anything with eyes to see would have fled that light, which promised only utter destruction, but anything capable of thought would have already left. To Amu, the light was merely reassuring.
She gathered her courage and addressed the darkness, while essence flows sufficient to destroy buildings strove to extract every last bit of detail from Nyarlathotep's behaviour. It wasn't a perfect match, her occult excellency's inference engine never having been meant for guiding conversation, but in a situation like this she'd take what she could get. If nothing else, it'd serve to distract her.
(Dangerous, it whispered without words. Barely here, imprisoned, limited; still, undefeatable. The thoughts felt like her own, but she knew they weren't.)
"Honestly… I want to make things better, even for you; it wouldn't be right to let anyone suffer. I want to find a path that as many people can walk away from happy as possible."
The simple truth. She couldn't lie, and she didn't want to insult it, but she didn't want to take its offer either. Nyarlathotep scared her, at a level that not even Kagutsuchi had managed. Kagutsuchi had never cared about her.
She shook her head to buy time, frantically trying to think of something it'd accept. It came out a little jerkily.
"But I don't know enough yet to know how to do that, and until I know more about myself and the world, I won't even know what a good answer is. I appreciate your offer, and if you have any suggestions, I'd be grateful to hear them… but I don't think it's the right time to make a final choice, especially when I know there are paths yet to be opened." She indicated her caste mark with a hand, letting it flare a little higher as she did so; the gesture sent a wave of light rippling down her form. "And… thank you for the offer of your power, but that's not something you should give me. I don't think it would help me accomplish what you asked."
The shadow deepened, and the fog seemed to bubble, burning away at the edges—
(Focus increasing, her excellency said. Environmental effects quantifiable, not aggressive. Aggression possible. Danger level underestimated. Insufficient data; full estimation impossible.)
—She forced herself to look straight at it, trying not to look guilty. Everything she'd said had been true, right? Even if some it was slanted. Nyarlathotep was so big…
"Tell me, Hinamori Amu," it said, its voice seeming to echo around her. It sounded stern, like her headmaster the one time she'd met him. "Do you consider your family and friends to be precious? Do you value their existence?"
An electric pulse ran through her. Was it threatening—
"Of course I do!" She shouted.
"Then, should you not take every opportunity to strengthen yourself? Child, there are forces at work here far beyond either of us. You cannot win on your own." The voice softened, almost pleading, but Amu wasn't listening anymore. Call her a child, would it? She'd already stopped the end of the world once, she'd do it again, and she'd do it without this thing's help.
"Well, I do seem to remember you mentioning that you're insane and self-destructive," she snapped back, glaring.
She regretted the action almost at once. Nyarlathotep covered almost half her Pattern, now, and from what she could see where the fog had burnt away it stretched far beyond Miki's wall. Probably. She couldn't really tell, because the core was a pit of darkness deeper than the blackest pitch; a chaos which didn't so much absorb the light as reject the possibility that light might ever have existed, though her own golden light shone on undeterred.
"And yet, you claim willingness to listen to my advise."
The darkness pressed against her Pattern, which effortlessly kept it at bay, but Amu flinched anyway. She'd said that, hadn't she? Then, what should she—
Transitioning from rescue mode to degraded mode.
Amu. Listen.