Those powers of yours... unpredictable. Dangerous. A ripple in the still waters of Amphoreus.

Word had spread quickly, faster than even Anaxa anticipated. A stranger, an outsider from beyond the Eternal Land, possessing abilities unknown to even the most learned scholars. It had taken mere moments for the city of Okhema to erupt in unrest.

And, of course, Aglaea had wasted no time in taking control of the situation. Her verdict was as swift as it was severe: containment.

That woman never did handle anomalies well. She viewed you as a disruption, a loose thread in her meticulously woven order, one that needed to be dealt with quickly and cleanly. He had no doubt she would attempt to unweave you, to pull apart every strand of your existence until she unraveled the truth she sought.

Anaxa had intervened, not because of some noble sense of justice, but because the situation interested him. A new anomaly had arrived on his world, something unknown, standing right before him, and Aglaea wanted to lock it away? Unacceptable.

So, naturally, Anaxa did what he did best. He opposed her.

The idea of standing up to Aglaea was an entertaining one, as it always was. He had stepped forward without hesitation, his request to take you under his watchful eye met with suspicion but, ultimately, reluctant approval. No one argued with him when it came to matters of knowledge. No one quite knew what went on inside his head either.

The first time Anaxa laid eyes on you, he was... unimpressed.

You hardly looked like someone who had shaken an entire city. But he knew better than to trust appearances alone. He had seen scholars and warriors alike crumble under forces they could not control. Power did not always announce itself with grandeur, it often lurked in the most unassuming forms.

"Come," he said, turning on his heel without another glance. "This city is too noisy for my liking." Without a word, Anaxa led you out of Okhema, away from the chattering masses and into the heart of his domain—the Grove of Epiphany.

Where Okhema was loud, restless, and suffocating in its order, the Grove was something else entirely. Here, there were no suspicious glares, no whispers of the "foreigner who should not be." The Grove was a quiet place of knowledge, of research, of control. And control was exactly what you lacked, wasn't it?

Anaxa walked beside you through the halls, his steps measured and precise. The layered coat he wore drifted behind him with every movement, his presence commanding yet strangely detached. "You should consider yourself fortunate," he mused, his voice carrying the faintest edge of amusement. "Had Aglaea taken an interest in you, I imagine her golden threads would have wrapped around your throat rather than your wrists."

His visible eye flicked toward you, studying your reaction. "I, on the other hand, am feeling merciful." The implication was clear. Were it anyone else, you might not be standing here so freely.

The room he guided you to was quiet, sparsely furnished, with an eerie sterility to it. White stone walls, intricate star charts scattered across a desk, books stacked with little organization. To the untrained eye, it was simply a scholar's workspace. To the perceptive, it was something closer to a controlled environment.

An experimentation room, if one were to look closely enough.

Anaxa leaned against the edge of a desk, arms crossing over his chest as he regarded you with an almost clinical curiosity. "Now then." His voice remained calm and patient, but there was an undeniable sharpness to it. "Would you be so kind as to demonstrate your... abilities for me again?"

It wasn't a demand, nor was it an order. He would not force you. If you refused, he would simply wait, because in the end, whatever lay dormant within you...

Would make itself known all the same.