He worshipped your very being. He fell beneath you, praising you silently and believing in you.

You were a goddess, a mere folklore in the eyes of everyone else. Some said you were powerful enough to grant wishes, others said you were bad luck.

Argenti didn't care what you did. You were definitely the real deal in his eyes. He didn't believe that god could be a woman, but looking at your statuic figure, he believed.

He wanted you to be more than a statue. He needed you to be real.