EVENT #1: THE EMPTY THRONE

[aionmods]

The Empty Throne

DESCENT

Nearly two weeks after being dragged from shrine caverns, you hear along the grapevine that the "the throne room is complete." It doesn't take long to figure out what that means; the ritual grounds that you have been hearing mention of are finally prepared, and it's only a short while before you are once again being gathered together for travel. As a small mercy, at least this time the journey is short.

Through a passage that has been blocked by a gathering of soldiers for the entire length of your stay, a stairway is revealed to you. It leads deep into the ruins, through unfamiliar structures and into the bowels of the earth. Though your feel your are mostly going downward, the walk is still long on account of how many stairs their are, and the soldiers escorting you are restless. They are now being led by the stray, mask wearing Achamites that have been accompanying the group till now, silently observing. Whatever place this is, it seems that they now hold court.

Funneled into the chambers below, you are greeted by a massive, domed enclosure of stone. Positioned around its circular radius are twelve thrones in various states of disrepair, sized as if meant to seat giants. The backs of these thrones all differ slightly in design, though most have great cleaves of stone broken loose from their architecture, as if subjected to some great cataclysm. Each is engraved with a sigil, though some have been obscured by the destruction wrought. The throne closest to the entrance has been almost entirely demolished, making it impossible to glean much about.

The dome's ceiling appears to be hundreds of feet tall at its apex, its smooth surface disrupted by stalactites that puncture through its form like teeth. As a result, many chunks of the original structure seem to have cracked and collapsed in to the floor below. When examined closely, these fragments of the domed ceiling seem to be made of a material strangely reflective in quality, though caked in many years of dirt and grime. If large enough sections are cleaned, patterns may emerge, revealing designs that look almost like star maps. The floor beneath your feet as a similar, but subtly different quality, covered in wreckage and ruin but can be cleaned to reveal complex patterns of intersecting lines.

A careful eye will indicate that these lines all lead towards the center of the room - the one space that has been cleared and scrubbed prior to your arrival. Here, the lines converge, with carefully preserved marking in the stone that bely increasing levels of runic complexity the closer you look. This is where the ritual will be held, you are told.

THE RITUAL

There is not much time to regain your bearings before you are being shuffled forth towards the ritual space; no, all the waiting has already been done. Under the command of the smaller group of Achamites, the Hylicians will make heavy use of the whips in leading everyone to their places along the rune-inscribed circle. Before that, however, small cuts will be made to each prisoner with an athame, either on their hand or arm. With a sharp, burning sensation in the afflicted skin, these cuts will spread into wounds reflecting the image of one of the eleven sigils displayed on the thrones encircling the group, and matching the shrine they were originally pulled from.

With this accomplished, they can finally be taken into the circle. With a design comprised of four triangles overlapping, the design of an open eye carved at its center, all prisoners will be led to separates points on its design where the lines cross. Seemingly arranged by their shrine sigil to be closest to whatever throne represents them, they will be brought to their designated positions one by one. Any attempts to flee or disrupt the process will be dealt with swiftly and harshly, exacerbated by the increasing levels of paranoia and fear in the soldiers themselves. Whatever is being done here, they don't seem happy to involved with it either.

When everyone is in place, the seeming master of ceremonies will finally emerge. A dark haired woman will appear from the shadows, motes of golden light fluttering about her otherwise darkness-clad visage. Moving towards the center of the circle, she will stand over the marking of the eye and begin working her magicks. As if on cue, the soldiers will withdraw any remaining whips and scurry to the outside of the circle, only for new bonds of ethereal energy to lash out of the ritual circle itself, binding each and every prisoner and dragging them down to their knees. Among the soldiers, you can hear mutterings identifying this woman as "the Aion."

"Come," she says to the coterie of robed Achamites, who will approach the circle with an assortment of vials collected into cases. There is enough for each prisoner to be given a drink, and so they will; a vial of abyssal liquid will be forced into each one of your throats, no matter how uncomfortably it must be done. While no less ruthless, the Achamites have a different way about them as they work, forcing themselves upon you with a strange familiarity that feels more akin to a mother forcing their child to take medicine than the suspicious hostility of the soldiers. As the foul liquid touches your tongue, it takes on a consistency almost like a living thing, crawling down your throat even if you refuse to swallow, all while the Achamites stroke your hair and make saccharine assurances.

Once all the prisoners have been fed their vial, the Achamamites too will retreat from the circle - all except for one. Joining 'the Aion' at the center, the two of them will begin enacting a planned ceremony of sorts, that culminates in the following scene:

The Achamite kneels before the Aion, lifting their masked face to meet their dark gaze. They speak, in practiced tones.

"To the Kenoma my body, to the Kenoma my soul."

In response, the Aion holds the Achamite's face between their hands in almost a loving gesture. She speaks softly:

"By the blood of the Martyr, I accept your sacrifice."

From the Aion's hands a darkness spreads across the Achamite's body, as if they are melting and dissolving on a cellular level. She kneels along with them, cradling them as their body breaks down, pooling in a void-black liquid around their knees. It drains into the lines of the ritual circle, surging out towards the prisoners.

Within moments, the ritual is complete.

KENOMA SICKNESS

As this dark power surges throughout the ritual circle, you will find yourself almost consumed by the tide. Whatever foul creation you were forced to swallow wakes within your chest, and you can feel it move within your veins, inside you lungs, behind your eyes. As quickly as it begins, the flood of darkness washes over you, but not without leaving you stained.

Something has changed in its wake. As you return to your senses, you will notice the magical bonds of the circle have fallen away, leaving you free to move; for once, the soldiers will not move to lead or restrain you. Instead, the Hylicians warily back away from the ritual space, retreating towards the only path upwards, where they form a defensive line. The Achamites that linger make a series of ritual gestures, praying in voices too soft to hear. The Aion woman stands in the center, her hands blackened with residue from the person you just watched fall to pieces in her arms.

"You will be given time to find your truth," she says. "Use it well."

As you recover from the experience enough to stand, she and her Achamite entourage are already retreating to join the Hylician guard. Gradually, your situation will become clear: they intend to keep your trapped down here. However, it will not be the same as when you waited before. Instead, the soldiers simply intend to block your only exit out, and otherwise leave you free to roam the full diameter of the throne room, seemingly free to do whatever you want as long as it isn't trying to break free of the cavern's confines. Each day, they will offer to their prisoners a limit supply of food, water, and firewood, but nothing more. Beyond that, you only have your increasingly dirty white robes and the same bedrolls as before.

❖ COMMUNION
The first change you will experience is an itching darkness in your mind, like a psychic wound that is becoming infected. The sort of thoughts you would normally try to force down become increasingly hard to resist; despair, hatred, and fear will plague you, and requiring great feats of will to silence even temporarily. Phantoms of the things you'd rather forget will become a constant companion, all while a presence seems to whisper: when you accept your fate, the pain will stop.

Worse than this, the darkness of your mind may not remain private. As if awakened by the ritual, your empathetic sense has become impossibly strong, to the point that you feel the broadcasted emotions and thoughts of others, and in turn, your darkest thoughts will be psychically projected to others with a volume proportional to the intensity with which you feel them. This effect is most potent between those sharing Legacy, with the capacity for their identities to become momentarily confused. In all cases, this connection may bleed into your dreams, or manifest as hallucinations.

❖ TRANSFORMATION
Yet, your mind is not the only thing that ails. In proportion to the strength of your emotions, your body may begin changing to match your state of mind. Physical transformations akin to those mentioned here will begin to manifest, themed to your inner suffering and the most negative aspects of your self conception. These alterations may shift from moment to moment, depending on the turbulence of your emotional state. They may or may not be painful.

❖ AFFLICTION
Along with the above effects, characters may also experience various more mundane ailments; essentially anything traditionally associated with illness could fit. Weakness, nausea, body aches, and chills are all common options. Along with this, void-black ooze may start to trickle from virtually any orifice. While it may stain clothing and skin, the material itself will dissipate after a few minutes in a manner reminiscent of ectoplasm. This effect may also appear around your Shard, as if the stone itself has begun to bleed.

RESISTANCE

Even as the Kenoma threatens to overwhelm you, you still have the power to fight. Though it may be a grueling war of attrition, you can force back its advances with sufficient will to survive and resist the darkness. Of course, your captors are not going to make this easy for you. Those that fight hard enough to expel the Kenoma from their bodies and spirits will take at least a week to do so, and for that duration they will be trapped within this chilly cavern, haunted by their worst thoughts and emotions.

The bedrolls barely strand up against the cold, your clothing doesn't at all, and to be comfortable you'll require fire. Yet, there is a limited amount provided to you, along with food and water, and the soldiers do not seem to be making any effort to distribute it evenly. Achieving basic warmth and sustenance may become a battle against your fellow inmates, all while you struggle against the enemy infecting your body. Cracks in the dome of the cavern lead into some smaller caverns and crevasses in the stone that can offer some privacy or protection, but the more splintered the group becomes the less the supplies will hold up. Fortunately for you, neither the cold nor starvation will kill you, but it will make you suffer.

Yet, you may still persevere. As you fight back the Kenoma, something else will be cultivated in its place. Bit by bit, a comforting and warm presence will grow within you, gradually disrupting the maladies afflicting your body and mind. Your faith and perseverance has been rewarded with an attunement to the Pleroma, the Kenoma's cosmological opposite; given enough time, the Kenoma will be forced from your being entirely, in the form of void-black sludge. Only then will your power begin to shine through, the abilities of your past life slowly returning.

You must keep your guard. With or without otherworldly power, escape will be a struggle.

ACCEPTANCE

Or, you may choose the easy option. Maybe the Kenoma resonates with your history and emotions in a way that makes it seem like it isn't the enemy. Maybe the depths of your despair are too deep to escape. Maybe your simply lack the strength to fight. Whatever the reason, sooner or later, the Kenoma claims you. The more you let it in, the less it feels like a poison and the more it feels like strength. The darkness settles comfortably into the cracks and holes of your spirit, and you awaken to its power. You feel the change viscerally.

This world is not good enough, a voice seems to speak through the Kenoma. This suffering you feel, the cruelty that has birthed this darkness in you... it is simply the rot that is consuming this existence. A better universe awaits, one forged by your own hand, and all you need do is first bring about this broken reality's end.

Whatever effects you were suffering from the Kenoma's presence will fade away, and in its place, you will feel your endurance bolstered. The clarity is stark in comparison to the mire you were trapped in before. As the other prisoners suffer around you, the Aion woman from before and an accompaniment of a couple Hylician soldiers will approach you among the ruins, as if summoned straight to your location. She looks you over, her dark eyes impassive, and then asks:

"Did you feel it?"

She doesn't actually wait for an answer, your expression alone enough to assure her. She'll tell the soldiers that you are free to go, and that you are to be given a share of their food and a change of clothes. She'll escort you out of cavern and towards the upper ruins, where the soldiers and Achamites have set up camp. This feels natural to you, somehow, like you and her are on the same wavelength in a way that is hard to comprehend. She is like you, you sense. That dark power is within her as well.

She doesn't linger with you for long, but she will see that you are on your way before heading back to the caverns. She'll say that the voice you heard, that promise, was the Regent, the ruler of this land. They spoke of a power that could birth a new, better universe, and they weren't misleading you. It's within their reach, closer than ever, and if you help them achieve it you will be rewarded lavishly. For now, you are free to regain your strength while the others make their choices. She only asks that you stay in the area and be ready to join the Regent in Achamoth when all is prepared.

If you're prone to boredom, though, she will mention that you'd really be doing the prisoners a favor by convincing them to accept the Kenoma like you did. You could convince them with words, or by making their situations so unbearable they won't have a choice but to break. However you'd like. It won't be worse than what's coming for them if they carry on this way.

When she parts ways with you, you are left to your own devices. Somehow, you feel inclined to cooperate. After all, the Regent did have a point.

QUESTIONS

Are the involuntary transformations during the Kenoma sickness period temporary afflictions or permanent ones?
By default they are temporary, but characters can also keep a couple keepsake changes if you'd like! An Aion's physical appearance is something that is generally in flux, and so even if you keep something from this event, you can always alter it later.

What kind of supplies are going to be distributed to those who accept Kenoma and leave the caverns?
They'll be given food, water, and clothing. They'll be given more/better rations than they were as prisoners, but it's still the sort of food that is limited by the fact that they are out here on a mission. The soldiers will have some fresh meat from prey they've been hunting in the forest, and will generally be having a lot of stew-based food going. There are actual spices in it, though, so that's cool. This is all set up where the Hylicians are camping.

As for clothes, they will get a fresh set (including boots or shoes) and some soap to clean themselves up in the nearby creeks and ponds. Hylici has an aesthetic that leans towards ancient Greek/Roman, so while they won't have anything fancy with them, you are free to assume they are able to acquire anything in that general ballpark. They do also have pants, though. While it is now spring and Horos has a generally temperate climate, it can be chilly at night.

Will Pleroma attuned be able to escape once they've regained their powers?
Yes, they will be allowed to escape at that point, and a second log will be going up to cover that part of the event. This log should generally cover up until shortly after Pleroma start ejecting the Kenoma's influence. Characters are permitted to escape by their own power if they somehow devise a plan to do so, but as we know the Pleromas are at a significant disadvantage in this situation, some characters who have fought against the Kenoma particularly valiantly will be given some magical assistance to help the survivors escape.

Will the Kenomas be able to try to stop them?
Yes! The second log will be set up to contain some PVP, though given the Pleromas do need to escape, we ask that you play nice. There will be a battle, but it will be structured in the context of the Pleromas having to hold off the Kenomas long enough to escape, so it will be relatively brief.

Can we speak to "the Aion"?
Yes, she will be around for the full length of the event. All characters will have the chance to find her watching over the group whether they are Kenomas or soon to be Pleromas. She will not be that talkative, though, so anyone tagging her will have to lead the conversation. She will not make small talk. Martyrs will recognize her as one of them.

Comments

[goldendeceiver]

[ At the very least, the lack of lies is appreciated if nothing else. It's not like Ernesto would have believed it if M had started to make him outlandish promises that he had no way of keeping, but he's already filthy, worn down and dejected looking. To not be treated like a fool on top of that is a small way to spare what little dignity he has left.

Worn down as he is though, there's still something in Ernesto's gaze that seems to sharpen when M asks him to share his fears about what giving into the Kenoma will entail. It's a fair enough tactic, and a good way to ask things more directly, but... ]

I've always been a little uncomfortable talking about myself that much.

[ It's an opening that Ernesto doesn't want to give up much. ]

Why don't you just tell me a little more generally about this change in perspective you had, Mr. M?

[affal]

( the only lie that he would make is in saying that it was because he respected ernesto so much that he refuses not to insult him with obvious untruths. it's not to say that he doesn't have some shred of respect for the perro, but that's just not the form that respect would take. no, instead he views this interaction as he views any other: what outcome is the most advantageous to him? if makoto had concrete reason to believe that successful conversions would have real positive outcomes for him, he might be more serious, but as far as he can tell the attempt is valued whether or not it bore fruit.

so what could be useful to him in this? well, ernesto, of course. he doesn't want to insult his intelligence or degrade his dignity, especially not when makoto is all-too-familiar with what he's going through. he wants to further the tentative arrangement that they might continue to foster, and he does so by continuing the honest brokering of limited pieces of information.

he hums, seemingly understanding. he wouldn't have been so eager to open up either, especially given the circumstances.

he pauses, thinking on how to phrase his answer. )

It's an issue of "the carrot or the stick."

( he drops his hands from where his fingers had framed ernesto's face, gesturing with one hand as if to weigh one option, ) What we suffer through in here feels punitive. I don't think it needs to. ( he weighs the other. ) It's not an interrogation. It's an opportunity. What I've found is that it's not mindless, not unconstructive... Which means that it can be negotiated with.

( ...or so he tells himself, and thus, it controls him. it's hard to say. but he certainly wouldn't be aware of that! )

[goldendeceiver]

[ The exhale that Ernesto lets out almost sounds like a laugh, but with just a smidge too much "downtrodden" in it. He certainly understands the point being made here, though there's a big problem with seeing the deal this way in the first place. ]

If I'm being complete honest, the carrot seems a little rotten.

[ This time he does manage an actual huff of laughter as he looks down at the floor, an amused smile twitching briefly into place on his face. ]

I'm not sure the carrot is much better than the stick, if it's going to make me feel sick.

[ That's all to say, the shift from thinking about this as punitive is pretty damn hard, when the reward doesn't seem like much of one to him. He's not a man with lofty goals himself, so any power that might be promised to him wouldn't be particularly useful to Ernesto. ]

[affal]

( he hums, seeming understanding.

really, he does understand ernesto's point. if only the picture of what its ultimate intention was was clearer, if only it hadn't been so heavy-handed in its attempts to wrench him to its cause. it all contributed to why it had taken makoto days to adopt the Kenoma's cause instead of a few hours. but if a picture is worth a thousand words, how many words is a grand design over the future of all that is? makoto's spent the better part of the last four years attempting to hone his tongue into fine silver, but the intricacies of that sort of summarization escape him.

instead, he focuses on the points directly in front of him: )

Sick? ( his head cants slightly to one side. ) I suppose you must mean metaphorically, because I assure you, the rotten way that you feel right now would not persist. I myself feel better than I've felt since first arriving in this place.

( he'd stretch out his wings as a demonstration (get it... demonstration...), but for some reason he thinks that might have the inverse effect that he's going for here. he refrains. )

[goldendeceiver]

[ The wings aren't going to get any judgement from a man sporting an extra set of ears and a tail. That particular style of wings might not exactly be a common feature where he's from, but it's not like wings of some variety don't exist among people in his world. They're not exactly something that Ernesto is looking to gain himself though.

And while the promise of feeling healthy again is theoretically more reassuring, he'd already been able to guess that much would be the case. It hadn't been enough to woo him over to that side yet, and it still wasn't the carrot that was going to make him fold.

Not yet anyway.

It's why he shakes his head just once, a sad smile on his face. It doesn't really match up with his words. ]

I'm sure that's probably true.

[affal]

( in all honesty, it's far too easy and generic of a tactic to win someone over. if ernesto had jumped to take it here and now, makoto probably would have respected him less. he's not down here with the same intention he had when forming contracts with mortals — for one thing, mortals summoned demons with the intention to form a contract regardless, so while maneuvering and manipulation is well enough in his wheelhouse, acting as a salesman... isn't. he finds himself curious both of what it was that all of them are either accepting or combating in their own private ways, but he's also still curious of the individuals themselves. was it truly inevitable that they would succumb to the Kenoma? with the way that the Aion that had enacted the ritual watches them, he doubts it. there's too much wariness in her and the soldiers that kept them in here — if it was a sure thing, there would be no reason to pay such close attention.

so what would happen to ernesto if he didn't give in now, or within what might be considered a "reasonable time"? ah, but makoto thinks it would simply be a waste if the answer was "something unconscionably bad."

he studies the sad smile, scrutinizes the look in his eyes; makoto's own lid closed for just a moment, and he exhales a long, slow sigh. )

I want to help you, Ernesto. I truly do. But I understand. I'm not entirely convinced this is the sort of decision that can or should be rushed or forced. ( case in point: he's fairly certain he fought against it for at least an additional day or two on the principle of having been bothered at all. the story that makoto tells himself is that he had only decided to accept the Kenoma when he had started to get a sense through the gaps in its mental assault that he was misunderstanding the nature of its advances. that "oblivion" was a mistranslated shorthand of its intention, and that it would leave more of him in tact for their mutual benefit, as that was more useful to the both of them than a mindless pawn.

but that's just what he tells himself. the truth is probably more murky than that, aided by the degradation of his will to fight on and his soul's natural affinity towards what the Kenoma is. )

Until then, please, count me as a resource to you. Anything I know or suspect, I will tell to you. That, or, ( and here he takes a cursory look around, his lips pressing into a faint frown. ) I can see what I can do about bringing you more supplies, if that might help. ( whether ernesto wants to agree to such an offer from a demon, though, is entirely up to him.... )

[goldendeceiver]

[ Too bad their roles aren't swapped them, because Ernesto makes for a half-way decent salesman. Though he has yet to be able to sell people on ideological beliefs so far.

Especially ones he himself doesn't believe. If he was really going to cave in so easily, he would have already done it, and would be right alongside Mr. M trying to urge others to stop making themselves miserable.

This time though, he doesn't feel like championing a belief he doesn't hold, even if he does find himself liking several of the people who have already accepted it. Ideological differences have never been a make or break for Ernesto in forming his opinion on others though, and he appreciates that despite being on other sides of the fence here, Mr. M is willing to do what he can to help Ernesto out.

The sad smile manages to pull a little tighter, look just a little more pained. ]

I haven't been feel great ever since their ritual started. I can barely keep down what they've gotten us already, but I do appreciate the offer.

[ He looks off to the side for a moment, before thinking of something that might be more helpful to him than food. ]

If you happen to hear anyone talking about a third option here, let me know though. The two I can see for myself right now aren't looking too great.

[ Giving in or getting killed... Hell of a couple of choices. ]

[affal]

( so-called ideological differences don't really factor into makoto's decision-making either, because, frankly, he doesn't really care about that kind of thing — what he sought to gain from the Kenoma wasn't so broad and conceptual as it was specific and quantitative. the Kenoma could have its oblivion and the Regent could have his supposed utopia if makoto got his revenge. it was as simple as that. others like ernesto had more hurtles that had to be overcome before pledging their allegiance, however, and he didn't necessarily fault them that. the intersection of individuals and their aims and goals to makoto was just a complex web of potential give and take, of alliances and adversaries that aligned based on the situation and context at hand. it's rarely personal. a part of his withered heart had even felt pity for his former employer when he had left him, a body indentured to the brothel he had once run, but his had been a necessary stepping stone makoto had needed to take to get closer to J.

so long as he deluded himself that the path ahead of him now also lead to that eventual destination, there's virtually nothing he wouldn't do. a word of warning to the wise, though there are some that could use that tenacity of his to their own gain as well.

he nods, frowning, sympathetic. he hadn't really been all that interested in eating either when he'd been down here, even though the hunger pangs had nearly felt crippling; such a physical discomfort was nothing in comparison to the feeling of the Kenoma eroding at your mind and your person. so he understands when it's pointed out that such easier offerings wouldn't do much good.

no, it's a far harder ask that would actually be useful to him. makoto pauses, the look in his strange eyes becoming sphinxlike. weighing what value information like that would truly have, what it might be worth... what it might cost him to give it to ernesto, even if he did happen to catch wind of such a thing.

still. he doesn't like to completely discard an opportunity. ) I think they are doing everything they can to make sure such a thing doesn't, or even can't, occur, ( because that would lead to the most of them choosing to accept the Kenoma, yes? ) but... if I do hear of anything, I will.

( it's no use to him if ernesto wastes away in this cave forever, after all. )

[goldendeceiver]

[ Having concrete goals in life probably makes things easier in a lot of ways, and in some ways Ernesto would wish he could relate. In a technical sense he's had them before, but only because he was working towards someone else's end goal, rather than working towards his own. That's the problem with being a waffling mess of a person, knowing what you want to work towards is hard. Hell, even pinning down what his ideals may or may not be is a challenge enough, so he's almost proud of himself for figuring it out in this mess.

He'd be prouder if this wasn't such a struggle for him though. Hearing Mr. M sharing his suspicions doesn't make it any easier either. The word "can't" feels like an almost unbearable weight the minute it leaves the other man's mouth, but Ernesto still keeps the smile steady on his face. He already knew this, so there's no point in showing his disappointment now.

Well, beyond his ears flattening against his head. ]

I figured as much, but I appreciate it regardless.

[affal]

( there's something potentially marvelous and potentially disastrous about not yet having found the goal or goals to set one's life upon. makoto could sympathize with where ernesto is now — he had been in a similar position once, when he had been newly stumbling through his first few weeks as a demon in hell. the experiences that are forced upon someone or that they stumble into themselves tend to hone them, focus them, until they are driven enough by virtue or by indignation to find an aspiration for themselves.

he is so stubbornly steadfast in his vendetta against his demon master because of how he had been treated and what had been done to him. if none of that had ever happened... well, things would be very different.

so that's why the precious stone as of yet unfreed from its rough is of particular worth and value. who knows what ernesto might experience here and what it would convince him is the most important thing to pursue?

makoto is certainly interested to find out. if ernesto got to that point, that is. he hopes so, truly.

he reaches out to place a hand on the perro's shoulder. and then he makes to stand. )

Until next time, then, my friend. And there is always space for you back in camp, if you so decide.

[goldendeceiver]

[ A diamond in the rough, huh? In the real rough right now, considering the conditions he's going to have to continue to endure for some time yet it seems. It's not like he really thought any of the converts would be able to actually get him out of this mess, at least not without him accepting the same offer that they did, but it would have been nice.

Hope springs eternal, though if Ernesto is being honest it feels like his hope has been dwindling down to near nothing. Maybe that's why there's the pained look on his face, even as he keeps smiling when Makoto makes that promise about the space for him.

He's still not completely sure he's strong enough to continue to refuse it. For now the conversation at least allowed him to focus his troubled mind for a bit, and he still has the strength to not take any offered hand.

Ernesto politely but pointedly doesn't respond to the comment about the space still there for him. ]

Take care of yourself, Mr. M.