[ Matt is quiet as he listens. His fingers turn gentler, drifting from detangling to simply stroking Tezcatlipoca's hair. He wonders what the word disciple means to him. Tezcatlipoca mentioned not meeting so many believers, even among mages, so maybe it's something like that. Someone who has faith in you. Matt can understand wanting to preserve that--the sacred relationship between god and man, the mutual reaching out.

Tezcatlipoca turns to look at him. To Matt, his eyes are sharp as a bird of prey's--a meat-eater's. Matt remembers, from what he's read, that it's not always so enviable to be a god's favorite mortal. ]

I guess it is, [ he admits, feeling guilty. ] And if I could save everyone from my world, so their souls could move on to the next one ... even if they weren't in the same container they were before, you know, the same body ... I'd do that.

But since I can't, I thought about who would want to be here with me. At the end of the world, or the start of the next one.

And.

I don't know.