Dimentio sighed. They had fallen into a kind of routine, with Dimentio procuring all the equipment Mr L listed and Mr L spending most of his time in the mechanical workshop. Dimentio was finding this much to his surprise it was quite an education. He had done some unofficial procurement himself and was quite the expert with 'local area networks' and 'webcameras'. Mr L's antics in the lab had proven to be quite amusing, especially the time when he took the Pervitin for the first time and spent a chunk of the morning running around in circles convinced that a manifold was haunted.

Still, there was something gnawing at Dimentio. It wasn't like that strange feeling, almost like grief when he last spent time with Luigi, awaiting the Count's summons, more like a strange feeling of regret. Not enough time to dwell on that, preparations need to be made.

He knew it wasn't long before everything would need to be in place. When Sammer's kingdom falls, he knew the Count would be unable to resist the drama watching that wretched world fall into the Void, leaving the Dark Prognosticus unguarded. Of course the Count was ignorant of that, but guess who wrote the spells of binding which protected it? That gave Dimentio a shot of glee - the final invocation was so near and his rightful place as a god of chaos, destruction and rebirth all but assured.

One thing was certain, godhood was a lonely place. He knew that would be his destiny and could feel himself detaching from what remained of his physical presence. It would be premature to do so too soon, the pretence of mortality still needed to be kept up.

The brief spurt of endorphins now gone, Dimentio still could not shake this existential aura of sadness which had persisted for more than a week. Then he remembered. That time in the cell, Luigi had managed to keep up a brave front for so long, but whenever he thought Dimentio had left for the duration, he would break down sobbing, calling out the names of his loved ones. A particular one, Mario stood out. Who was he? a brother? Lover? Not sure now but it made Dimentio think: Who was the last person to give him succour; to lay their hands on him and demand nothing in return, to show him kindness?

He sighed. Damn it! I know what will happen if I keep dismissing these feelings, they will fester and poison one like a boil lanced before it is ripe. That green clad fool, if he had seen sense and if Dimentio could have shown him his vision they could be working on the future together. After all what is a God without a High Priest. And if you are a God, who can punish you? Who is the only one to judge you if you have sinned? Oh wait that's me!

He grinned and set of to Mr L's quarters, a plan having formed.

Dimentio adjusted the neckline of his black silk dressing gown as he looked at the drawn curtains of Mr L's four poster bed in the middle of the twilit room, lit only by the light from the Void.

Why so nervous? You just need to do a simple block to keep Mr L under while he sleeps if you are worried he will struggle. It doesn't need to last long. Taking a breath he walked around where the curtain was cocked. He could see that Mr L had worked until he'd dropped and had simply shed his clothes and climbed right into bed. He stood and watched him, hearing his breathing, seeing the rise and fall of his chest, loosely covered by the black and green counterpane. He looked so peaceful; no bruises obvious in the dim light, none of the bluster and aggression present in the set of his features. Despite his full moustache, the lean muscles and the hair on his chest he looked almost innocent in sleep.

What would it like to have those arms hold you? Why not find out?

He moved closer and gently pulled the sheet down. Mr L did not stir. Conscious of the chill Dimentio pulled the curtain shut behind him, to do that he had to climb onto the bed. He could see that Mr L had dispensed with nightwear, he had just stripped and got into bed now that he could see his chest, flank and most of one leg, the curve of his thigh visible.

He felt a surge of excitement mixed with fear. Whats wrong with you? You've wanted this for how long? Another tug of the bedsheet and you would see him in all his glory. What are you waiting for?

No no, that doesn't seem, well right. Dimentio took another breath and gently touched the man's chest. Mr L stirred, then gently grasped his hand, pulling Dimentio alongside him. Dimentio froze. Mr L still seemed asleep but he had put his arms around him as him he was as familiar as a lover. Strange feelings surged in his mind - once his ascendancy was complete that would be another detail he'd not have to worry about- but these were so unfamiliar they left him discombobulated. Still, Mr L was smiling now.

Come on Dimentio, you can still use that block if you want to. Even if you do he might still enjoy it- NO NO! He felt Mr L shift around and get comfortable with him in his arms. He could feel the muscles of his chest through the thin fabric of his gown, when had anybody just held him like this. To his horror he felt his face get wet - he did not have his mask on and this physical form was a close approximation to what he looked like when he used dark magic for the first time as a youth- and felt words rise up unbidden.

" It's...it's so lonely here without you. It is the loneliest place being a god. There are some who don't know it but I do. I know I'm a god and there is just ME! Me! Oh to be ignorant again!"

He felt Mr L stir. He stiffened as it has occurred that if Mr L was to wake up he would find an intruder in his bed. The drug that Dimentio offered him was known to increase aggression as well as alertness and it dawned on him he was very vulnerable in a dangerous place. Mr L would not know it was Dimentio and there would be nothing to stop him from snapping his neck in self defence.

However, Mr L stroked his hair and muttered something soothing to him as he held him. It wasn't clear as he was still asleep but it sounded like:

'"S ok, So 'k I love you, love like as much I love my brother, like lifekind So'k, io ti amo ti amo".

Dimentio felt something strange, almost like an invisible wave of warmth and joy. How tempting it would be just to stay here and not move. To think you had something more physical on your mind! He sighed.

Then the warm feeling disappeared like a puff of air in a vacuum. To stay here would be like signing your own death warrant. Once sentimentality clouds your wits you're doomed! As will he be. Now he had to extricate himself from the bed; dimension hopping would wake him instantly - better leave that for when you're on the other side of the curtain.

Safely back in his quarters Dimentio lay in bed stunned. Mr L had a knack of complicating things, even as he slept. Why did his eyes burn and his throat ached? And now why was release from this pain only granted as he sobbed like he has not done so for centuries?