Cord presented his theory, saying:
[While I want to believe Floki is the victim, I fear we do not have that luxury, because Floki is, in truth, just like any other soul — a being bound by choices, consequences, and the fragile threads of existence, just like you and I, caught in the same vast web of struggle and shared destiny.]
Maru leaned closer, carefully considering Cord's words, his mind turning over the implications of such a claim, and trying to grasp what Cord truly meant by invoking the phrase "you and I," as though it carried a deeper resonance beyond mere comparison, hinting at a profound equality of spirit and circumstance.
Certain he had Maru's full attention, Cord continued:
[First, Floki bore both the privilege and the curse of being chosen by one of the elders — your proclaimed 'dad' and my master — at a time when his abilities had not yet fully bloomed. That decision set him on a relentless path, compelling him to strive beyond the limits of his generation, to prove himself worthy, and to seek power by any means necessary.
It was a burden that shaped his destiny, driving him into a ceaseless struggle for recognition, influence, and mastery, a struggle that consumed his spirit and defined the trajectory of his life.]
Cord pressed on, his voice steady:
[Second, we granted Floki a luxury we denied ourselves, turning a blind eye when he chose to journey to a distant island, far removed from our watchful presence, in pursuit of greater power. It was a freedom we never allowed ourselves, for we feared the magnitude of our own abilities and underestimated his.
We shackled our strength by becoming rivals, keeping one another in check, while Floki was permitted to grow unchecked, to cultivate his might in solitude. He rose freely, without interference, and we did not so much as blink — well, not blink in the literal sense, as we have no eyes, but I trust you understand the essence of what I mean: we allowed him to ascend beyond restraint, and that choice carries consequences we can no longer ignore.]
Cord's tone grew sharper as he concluded:
[Lastly, Floki has remained on that island for the better part of a decade, and the only progress we visibly perceive from that crafty, insufferable brat is his continued inability to wield his powers effectively — unable even to restrain a monster for more than a few fleeting seconds.
Yet, for someone as cunning as Floki, it is entirely possible he has mastered his abilities to an extraordinary, perhaps even terrifying degree, achieving feats we never imagined. Moreover, we know well that although Floki's powers may appear weak, unreliable, and of little use in direct combat, he is a genius engineer, scientist, and craftsman.
What assurance do we have that he has not created constructs, devices, or tools to compensate for his shortcomings, weaving intellect and invention into weapons that could rival our own strength and alter the balance of power forever?]
The three reasons Cord gave were undeniably valid. Anyone who possessed motivation — or was forced into it — combined with great talents, sharp intellect, and the patience of time, could inevitably evolve into a "monster."
Maru weighed these arguments carefully, realizing that Floki might no longer be the promising recruit he once admired years ago. Instead, Floki could now be a master of his craft, capable of dismantling beings stronger than himself with unsettling ease. If what Cord suggested was true — that their lapses in memory, losing entire days or fragments of time, were the result of Floki's ability brought to a perfected, mastered level — then the implications were staggering.
It meant Floki had not only refined his powers but perhaps transcended them, wielding influence over perception, reality, and the very fabric of their awareness.
Cord had no idea that the theory he presented — and the seed of doubt born from it — had already taken root in Maru's mind, slowly shifting his perspective and drawing him toward Cord's side. As Cord concluded, he declared:
[Those three reasons are why I believe we should not blindly accept Floki as the victim here. Instead, since we remain ignorant of what Floki has truly been doing, how his skills have evolved, and the ways he may have changed, we must consider the possibility that he is the perpetrator of our current condition.
At the very least, we must acknowledge that it is open to debate whether Floki is truly a victim in this situation, or whether he has become the architect of our misfortune, shaping events with intent and precision beyond our comprehension.]
Seeing that Cord was finished, Maru offered a soft smile and clapped his hands lightly before speaking:
[What a compelling argument. You truly have the makings of a judge, or perhaps even a jury, in this sense. I cannot help but wonder what someone like you — so motivated by truth, so prepared to defend a motive with unwavering conviction — is doing here as a mere familiar. Your words carry the weight of reason, and your presence feels far greater than the role you've been assigned, as though destiny itself has misplaced you.]
Cord seemed momentarily confused about where the conversation was heading, but he did not protest. Instead, he calmly listened to Maru's playful teasing, enduring the remarks about his supposed talent as a prosecutor, judge, and his uncanny ability to see matters from unique perspectives.
Maru continued until Cord could no longer contain himself, gurgling loudly — a sound that startled Maru into silence. After a pause, Maru finally said:
[Still, you made a great many points, and it is reassuring to know that someone is watching out for me, guarding my path with such conviction and clarity, even when the truth itself feels uncertain and elusive.]
Maru paused, his words heavy with accusation:
[I initially thought you were the one that murdered him or you probably bashed his head in and hid his remains in alongside other bones in a secret place around the cove of this island.]
Maru stopped momentarily, staring into the two deep pools of darkness that Cord had for eyes, searching desperately for defiance in his expression or some protest against the accusation he had just voiced.
Yet Cord only regarded him with a somber stillness, his gaze fixed upon Maru's patchwork face — the rough stretches of skin, the uneven tufts of hair, and those bleak, lifeless eyes that seemed to swallow light. Without flinching, Cord spoke with chilling directness:
[Of course you did.]
His words carried no hesitation, no tremor, only the weight of inevitability, as though he had already accepted the truth long before Maru dared to speak it aloud.