I'm topical.
Or something.
.
"When I say the earth is needlessly limited," Seto said slowly, "people have a tendency to believe I'm advocating for space travel. And, on the one hand, I do. It's important to know more about the universe. But that's not what I mean, primarily, when I say that. I'm not Elon. I have no interest in, nor intention to, make Mars habitable."
Kisara hummed. "What do you mean, then? Primarily. When you speak of the earth's limits."
"I mean that we should break them," Seto said, his voice sharpening; he gained in pitch and volume as he continued: "The purpose of limits shouldn't be to avoid or ignore them, but to confront them. No problem is too big to do something about it! If it's too big to do anything about, then it's not a problem, it's just a fact of reality." He pointed at Kisara. "That's the key to all this. That's the goal certain people have." When Seto talked about certain people, he was usually talking about his own peers: fellow businesspeople, fellow rich investors. "To treat difficult issues like an intrinsic part of life so that they can be safely ignored. It's easier. Cheaper. There's no need for change."
"You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?" Kisara asked, more to herself than to Seto.
"I made that jet to prove to myself that I could," Seto said. "I've used it for vanity flights. Mokuba told me about a dream he had when he was little. He dreamed that he and I flew away on a dragon. I resolved, the day he told me, that I would make his dream a reality. That was all I needed to do, and it's all I did. It's all I ever used it for."
Kisara smiled. She didn't need to ask which dragon Mokuba dreamed about.
She already knew that it was the same dragon that slept in her blood.
"Sometimes," she said eventually, "it seems like you have built your life and reputation around being the precise opposite of Elon Musk." Kisara looked more curious than critical. "Did you stop flying in your dragon jet when it became common knowledge just how often he flew in one?"
"That sniveling fuckwit does not ride in a jet like mine," Seto snapped, "and he can't pilot one, either." He paused. "But yes. That is precisely why I stopped flying it." He crossed his arms over his chest. "He wants to act like the savior of humanity, but all he ever does is make a cosmic joke out of everything I've ever tried to make. If I were to dedicate the rest of my life to the ruination of his, I would die proud of my legacy."
"Would you like me to eat him for you?"
Seto eyed Kisara for a long, long moment, trying to decide how to answer. Did he want her to eat Elon Musk? Or was there too much catharsis to be had in having the man as a target? There was no question whether she was serious; she most definitely was. Kisara St. Vincent had lied about a great many things throughout her life; for her own survival, her own comfort, for the good of what she wanted to make of her life.
But she never lied about eating people.