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"Don't I have a say in this?"
Suddenly the gaze of the present Yozi fell upon Jet and he felt the true gravity of their attention. He tried to swallow the knot forming in his throat and continued.
"I was under the assumption that we are here for a purpose. Working towards a common goal. No? It seems quite reductive to limit me to the service of one, since I'm so "special". It'd be more prudent to dedicate me to the goal, above all else. That way I can benefit all without hampering the others. Well? How about that?"
There was a solid two minutes of silence, with the Titans simply glaring at him. Jet practically felt their attention flaying his soul, but he bit his tongue and clenched his fists to bear it. Finally the creatures looked at each other as Malfeas spoke.
"Is This Satisfactory?"
"No."
They answered in unison.
"Are We Happy With This?"
"No."
The Yozi continued to argue among each other, each one giving long-winded speeches about the strange and esoteric reasons why they should be the ones to claim the 49th Prince. Jet was about to raise his voice to demand them not to ignore him but as he's about to speak he starts uncontrollably coughing. The fit gets worse and worse until he falls to his knees. The hand he held to his mouth was drenched in mercury, since his body no longer had a drop of blood in it. His elevated heart-rate resulted in the concoction of stimulants and anesthetics flushing from his system, and as his heart slowed down to more natural levels he realized just how far he pushed himself. He barely had a mote of essence left in his body. If things were dragged out much longer he would've crumbled from the strain. His vision was blurring and his breathing was heavy. He was about to lose consciousness as the Yozi around him kept arguing.
Then they fell silent.
An explosion went off in the middle of the arena and a powerful gust of wind washed over all present. All eyes were drawn away from the titans and to the epicenter of the burst, where a glowing pyre of green light was slowly overtaken by golden sunlight with a giant snapping turtle rising from within. Standing in the middle of it was Jet. Or rather, someone wearing his skin. The look in his eyes was different. He stood tall and proud, with a colde certainty to his gaze that did not waver even as he looked directly at the dread demon princes. His eyes darted from one to another until he scoured all of the titans.
"Where am I?"
He looked at the bronze skinned king.
"Malfeas... you cur. You dare drag your betters into your stinking hole? You'll pay for this insolence-"
