Just once. For just a single time, I needed someone to fulfill the goddamn role that they were supposed to do without boring themselves to death over it. Sure, they were clones, but it simply meant that I could be either as callous or as insensitive as them when the chips were down, but the main reason as to why I kept myself from slipping off that slope is because of...

...Wait. That was it. Maybe I could make a new template out of this. If stuck-up idiots were made to be stuck-up idiots, then they would have no incentive to change their own mindset. Blank slates, however? They could be influenced by anything, so not a great choice either. So...a balance of both, then.

For this Root's sake, I hope that this does work out. If it doesn't...? I might have to ask Azathoth's help for this.

Squeezing a favor out of your boss is supposedly easy, unless said boss could create and delete entire multiverses on a whim. Yeah. Not good. Might have to get a little bit creative with my guardian here instead.

Given that magic slowly bled off until the world around it slowly grinds anything related to Mystery into nothing more than dust...

...Hmm. This creation would be taking longer than I expected.

/Salem/

The world was currently in great shape. Humans flourished, the Grimm are being held back, and the different Kingdoms seemed more interested in reelection than the innumerable army of Grimm outside their walls.

Not that the Grimmlands were any better, however. "Still no sign of Ozma?"

Salem glanced up from her Seer, turning towards her right hand and his jarring manipulation of light. "Nope. The curse is still working yes, but I have a feeling that he doesn't want to be found. Maybe he's just hibernating and taking his time. I don't really know what flows through that idiot's head."

"Even though you're a God?"

"I'm an avatar of one." Her right hand stressed, massaging his temples in irritation while the ball of light that he materialized zipped around him in apparent concern. "As much as I'd like to solve...whatever you two are currently going through, the big guy in my head is missing. Last time I spoke to it, they said that they were busy terraforming other worlds."

Salem sighed. "Until that time comes, we shall wait, then."

"Hopefully the idiot didn't go insane from lack of company." A forlorn sigh escaped the young man's lips, even as he slammed his head into his chair's armrest. "...No, of course he would. Those assholes just wanted to twist the knife even further."

The stone seat underneath her cracked at the mention of those two gods, and Salem took a deep breath in order to stave off the dregs of bloodlust that came with the mention of the Brother Gods. As much as she wanted to rage about her and Ozma's current situation, there wasn't much she could do, especially in the name of revenge.

The Gods of Light and Darkness were already dead for a long time, after all.

"You know I can't just wait here in a tower, waiting for him to raise up arms against me. And it's not like I could just go out like...this." She motioned to herself, the pasty white skin and red veins only accentuating her point. She had enough common sense to know that not only would she be the subject of stares in a human settlement, but would also be the subject of numerous torches and pitchforks.

"Leave it to me, then." Her right hand said, a thin smile on his face as Salem grimaced at the pleading look in his eyes. "I'll try to find him for you."

The earnest look on his face brought warmth to Salem's smile, but it was tempered by the fact that she could sense his hidden motives as clear as day. "You just want to get out of the tower and explore, don't you?"

Coldness seeped into her statement, and her right hand simply glanced away from her as he tried to whistle innocently. Tried, being the keyword, since for all of his natural talents and skills upon being an avatar of a god, her right hand couldn't whistle to save a life. A thing that she had incessantly teased him for since the day that they had met.

"Nope." He eventually said once Salem's stare grew even frostier. Both of them knew that he was lying, yet the Dread Queen of all Grimm couldn't help but let out a sigh.

She supposed she could let a friend have his vacation time. "Fine, Bree. I suppose you win this time. But, I have some conditions."

"Go on..."

"You shall return here every month with souvenirs and pictures, and you shall stay for a week so that we would be able to catch up." Salem closed her eyes, her imperial voice ringing through the castle's throne room as she could hear his chuckles close by.

"Alright", he eventually conceded, even as Salem opened her eyes and found her friend leaning back with arms raised, "I'll do as you say, my Queen. Would you like a clone with that as well?"

"I suppose I shall." Magic weaved by her side, and a thin smile formed on Salem's face as a perfect clone of her friend appeared from a hail of mirrors and light. Both versions, real and fake, bowed down with wide smiles on their own faces, even as Salem's laugh tinkled through the still air of the tower.

"Well then, I suppose I must be off with my search." The real one said, before a cloak of mirrors assailed him and left the clone behind. Salem leaned back against her throne with her friend's clone standing right beside her, and she closed her eyes to let her imagination take her away.

She imagined her love opening those doors leading toward this room, a hungry look on his gaze as his eyes roamed the room before finally settling his gaze on her. Then with a single step, his sword flashed in the air, a glint of silver running down its edge, and he began to speak with great enthusiasm–

"My Queen, I would suggest retiring to your chambers before engaging in your...fantasies."

The Queen of the Grimm opened her eyes, sending a flat look towards the clone of her right hand. "You're as annoying as the real one."

"I live to serve, my Queen."

And it also had the same damnable tongue.