Emotions flared in the room. Mithias stood observant, considering all he had heard and witnessed, from the belligerent council member's violent outburst, to the Traveler's professional dismissal, to Asha's anxious scans for an exit. 

Mithias allowed his attention to linger on the latter. The young knight had eyes just like his. He had noticed. In fact, the resemblance of the black-haired human clad in elements of plate and bearing a sword reminded him so much of... himself. He probed her thoughts first, finding them to be easily predictable. She was alarmed, yet her thoughts were practical, like those of the warrior she was. She was innocent, pure in intention, and a helper, no... a healer, to others. Mithais could see the memories of her past actions like images in the flickers of flames, but he had no time to dwell. Chance were, he would have loved her, had he been mortal, but such attachments were meaningless to him now. 

Mithias's mind-seeking attention then floated to the next being, known as Asura. Immediately, he was repulsed by the cacophony of madness barely held in check by the demigod's will. Reading him further would likely result in a headache. Thus, he moved on. He scanned briefly past Frojund, noting him as having some significant, hidden power, yet not knowing what form exactly that power took. The other human-looking being calling itself Travis read similarly, but his emotions were more clear. For the moment, Travis appeared interested, yet he was hiding his discomfort and wanted to be in control. Very logical, of course. Mithias did admire his outward self-control. 

In contrast, the yellow-eyed member of the hooded council, exhibited a complete lack of control as he smashed the nose of the speaker, Oswald. Instantly, Mithias sized him up as a potential threat. This one's mind, was far more difficult to read, full of fire and rage, and a superiorly relentless will. The latter surprised the psychically gifted creature that Mithias was, for it at least rivaled his own in magnitude. Secretly, the ex-vampire honed in on him for a moment, peeling the layers and seeking out more information on this "friend" that had asked him to protect their worlds. ... a light, white wings, a smile. Mithias drew what conclusions he could. Whatever the friend was seemed in complete contrast to the hulking, demonic beast that impatiently explained the situation to them. Who could say how that matchup ever came to be. 

The demon called Oswald was quite different than Mithias had expected. His daily activities revolved around torture and punishment, yet he took no sadistic pleasure in it, only the satisfaction of justice done. He was devoid of sympathy, cold as ice, to the suffering he incurred on his prisoners. Getting on his darkside was utterly permanent, as he seemed to have no concept of mercy or forgiveness. Perhaps, he was the perfect executioner. Mithias then had to wonder, who was the judge? 

Then there was the last fellow. He, or it, was tall, with eyes of sickly glowing green, a metallic body, and unearthly resonant voice. He represented the "other side" of this council's present conflict. He was the one charged with invading and potentially destroying the present company's homeworlds, overrunning them with "demons, zombies, soldiers, or whatever else," all in the name of forming a unified empire of reason. 

Mithias narrowed his eyes at him, and it was to him that he spoke. "I know of you, Necron." The verbalization of such knowledge came as a shock. Mithias continued, once that shock had worn off. "For I have spent some time in your universe. You claim the noble goal of peace before us, via imposed rule by reason, yet you must know that there is one other who has already succeeded in this. You know of whom I speak." Mithias met the Silent King's undead gaze with his ironically mutant-looking eyes. The implication was obvious. 

Mithias had never attempted to read the thoughts of a Necron before, and so he tried to do it now. He had so many questions as to the true intentions and sanity of the galvanized xeno before him, yet, he could get nothing. The shell was empty. It was like trying to read a computer. In fact, the Necron was psychically and spiritually invisible to Mithias, not even registering as a soul. A Necron would be his ideal assassin. 

Mithias grunted a soft derisive sound. "You would in no way be worthy."