Interlude XVI: Ica
Ica wasn't one for games.

Being a literal embodiment of her Master's untapped abilities, the phoenix hadn't expected to mold herself into this demeaning approximation of her Master's... preferences. She was power. Pure Essence made manifest. To think that she'd stoop to lower herself simply in a vain attempt to knock some sense into the idiot that was her host?

Inconceivable.

And yet, as Ica watched her Master reabsorb each and every page of her repressed memories, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the lengths she had undergone for this event to even happen. Creating a human analog of herself had been the first step, despite her host already being able to understand her through her sheer thoughts. Next came the complete overhaul of the mindscape, which would enable her Master to better understand the place that was her own mess of a mind.
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