[Potential 4. Insecure]

Set leans over to the sound of linen gently swishing and slides the tablet out from the Seneschal's bound hands. She looks it over, ensures that the orders are in place, no extra guards or wrong locations to deceive her. When she's done, she nods to herself and replaces it at the other end of the desk, outside of the Seneschal's reach. Though perhaps left alone he could scooch his chair over to get it, as long as he's careful not to knock himself over in the process.

Set steps away for a moment and examines the room. The fight was quick, a series of blows and portals, a sudden and decisive win. His retainers would have finished their falls by now. Perhaps a few were still clinging roughly to the roof, others fallen to the gardens and courtyards and now recovering, but still some distance from this office with its commanding view of the city. 

Her gaze strays down to the city in miniature. All that jumping about and neither she nor the Seneschal had damaged it. Set wanders over and stands among the buildings, picks up a few trees and admires them. Even her little waterfall garden is there in miniature, and the tofu stall where she had eaten out. This thing was truly spectacular, not just practical for planning, but truly a work of art. It might well be the unique creation of some Annunaki crafter, one of a kind and irreplaceable in its eye for detail. She looked over at the Seneschal. "Truly spectacular craftsmanship. You had this made for you?" She laughs with the dismissal that the Seneschal might make such a work himself. "Did you pay nothing for it? Claim such a thing as the right of your position on your vaunted chain? Pathetic."

Anathet knew what Marianne would do here. She saw the challenge in the Seneschal's eyes. She knew a man like him wouldn't mourn the suffering of a thousand slaves but his heart would break over the loss of a precious toy. Break him inside, make him hurt, let him feel the pain of the masses in his own heart and be scarred by the revolution to come. That was the way of the Phantom Thieves, wasn't it? Anathet almost lifted her foot and with a great golden sandal crushed the Seneschal's palace in miniature like Godzilla himself had come to rampage in Babylon. 

Almost.

Something in her heart stopped her. She just...she couldn't inflict that on the Seneschal, not though he deserved it. That kind of pain, that's what they were fighting to stop, wasn't it? The goal wasn't just to gather it all up and throw it back on the Annunaki. They had to be stopped, but Anathet didn't want to do that by destroying all the beautiful things in Caphtor. Then there wouldn't be anything beautiful left and her heart cried for that. 

So instead, with an angry grunt, she turns the Seneschal's chair and flings him into a corner so he can see nothing. No jockeying to his tablet for freedom, his men will find him tied and punished like a child and that will be that. The tree though, is on his desk by the tablet, and Set is already long gone before he can see her cry.