Privacy or Safety

“Don’t do this.”

The appearance of a bright yellow Rethavok-like in the middle of the secret control room was strange, but no one seemed to really be reacting to it. Almost if teleporting Rethan ghosts were only uncommon, here in the 9th Legion bunker.

“Arkadin, why are you here?” Retvik asked. Unlike the majority of Rethans present, Retvik was wearing a space-ready suit. The other Rethans had been talking him through his next mission. “You normally do not appear within secret bunkers.”

“Normally I don’t have to stop idiots from setting up god-surveillance devices. The privacy of deities is pretty fucking important when it comes to the continued existence of the universe!”

“Why?” the other Rethan, clearly the leader of this whole operation, tutted. “You gods are dangerous and unpredictable. We need to know what you are doing in order to protect our civilians.”

The Thantophor sighed, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t know what you are doing.”

“Did you break the satellite in the first place?” this leader Rethan tutted some more. “You did, did you not?”

“No, I didn’t break it. All your stupid semi-atmospheric junk broke it. But I will be very tempted to break it if you go ahead with your plan.”

Retvik glanced at the other Rethan. “Mastakon, maybe we should reconsider. After all, this is the Lord of Death asking us to not go through with this.”

“We are going ahead with this plan, Retvik!” Mastakon hissed. “I am certain that us tracking godly interactions in order to protect our fellow Rethavok will not bother you deities in the slightest! You are gods, you do not have to worry about trivial things like life and death. Surely sacrificing a small amount of your privacy is not an issue?”

Arkadin took a long, deep breath. He had been hoping that these Rethans would be swayed a bit more easily.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“There are some things us Deities do that cannot be seen by mortal eyes. But more importantly, there are godly… things that you can simply not know about. Your tracking satellite has the potential to partially unveil them, and if you do, the consequences will be dire.”

Mastakon didn’t seem to believe Arkadin’s words. “What would happen, should we go ahead? You do not seem like one to make threats and carry them out.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right!” Arkadin smiled, a harsh hint of sarcasm in his voice. “The god of death doesn’t carry out his threats. It’s not like everything in existence dies by my hand!” The Thantophor snickered, then straightened himself out. “I am not the problem though. I discovered this operation first. My family… they don’t know yet. And I have no idea how they will react when they do.”

“So your siblings may threaten us in the future?” Retvik asked.

“Not just them…” With a sigh, Arkadin turned to Retvik, putting his hands on Retvik’s side, holding him tightly. “Listen to me, Retvik. Don’t do this. They clearly won’t listen, so I’m just going to let them suffer. But you, you are better than this. Don’t go.”

Retvik looked down, brushing away Arkadin’s hand. “They are right though, we do deserve safety from godly interaction…”

“You don’t understand. If… if she finds out… If Kenon finds out…”

“Then the 9th Legion will pay for it then. All I am doing is helping them get started.”

“Retvik, I am asking you, no, begging you, don’t do this.”

Retvik tutted as he pulled away completely from Arkadin. “And what happens if I do go ahead?”

“I… I don’t know…” the Thantophor sighed, disguising his anger with laboured breaths. “I can’t see that far ahead, but it can’t be good…”

“I am sure we will be fine,” Retvik patted Arkadin on the shoulder. “We are Rethans, we are no stranger to bad consequences.”

The Thantophor’s anger swiftly bubbled to the surface. It was one thing for these normal Rethans to ignore him, but Retvik too? Arkadin had had enough.

“Well don’t you fucking dare blame me for what’s to come!” Arkadin sneered as he disappeared in a puff of black smoke. “This is ALL on you!”