It took a long time for Grey to calm down. Unfortunately, the sort of rage that he could exhibit now and the sort of rage he could in the past were two completely different things.
When the Grey of the past was pissed off, at most some drywall would suffer.
When the Grey of now was pissed off, it felt like the air itself was being boiled alive. If not for the quality of the airship they were in, and probably due in part to the fact that the world itself was frozen and couldn’t seem to take any damage at all right now, they would probably already be crash landing some place.
The grey of the world faded away to color once more and the Great Udon signed off with one more bloviating, self-aggrandizing speech that Grey didn’t hear a single word of.
His ears were ringing with the sharp echo of a high pitched whine, the vessels in his eyes so dilated and overheated that everything around him became a blur, there were even so many goosebumps rippling across his skin in an odd static-like feedback loop that it felt like all his muscles had gone to sleep and he had forgotten the feel of touch too.
He had never been so pissed off in his life. He couldn’t even rejoice at the fact that his grandfather had definitely seen him this time, that he knew that his grandson was alive and his heart could rest easy.
BANG.
Grey kicked the table he had been resting his feet on and it went flying, shattering against the glass curve of the flying vessel. Once again, had they not been in such a sturdy ship, that would have likewise sent them plummeting down to the earth below.
Amunet didn’t say anything, and Brad and Mauve could only watch as well. They weren’t exactly 100% sure why Grey was so pissed off, but as they thought about it, their expressions sank too.
The things the Great Udon had done were so subtle for the most part that unless you were in the thick of things, they were easy to miss.
Most people would just think he had given praise to newbies of the Cracked World and given them some highlights to watch. In fact, most people would think that Grey should be the happiest of them all. After all, he received the most praise, he had been one of the few warriors of a Cracked World to ever take down an alien Race, and the only one to ever kill one of a Higher Race.
Based on this alone, Grey’s fame had touched upon an unprecedented level. His personal chat would have been flooded with people already had the Hosts not hiked up the prices to a ridiculous level, even straight up barring some people from getting a look.
But all Grey could hear were the echoes of those zone names.
He clenched his fists, taking deep breaths that didn’t seem to do anything to calm him down.
"And what do you think this is going to do, exactly?" Amunet finally cut in.
Grey’s head whipped toward her so fast anyone else could have flinched. In fact, despite only being able to see the back of Grey’s head right now, both Brad and Mauve very much did. They didn’t have to be able to see to guess the kind of look in Grey’s eyes right now.
There was a burning coming from him, an unendurable fury that flickered in the flames of his crimson eyes. His white hair looked like it was radiating its own light, but rather than making him look holy, he looked just like an archangel sent on a mission of judgment.
Except this archangel had no target to vent on, and Amunet seemed intent on providing that target.
Yet, she didn’t seem to notice the danger she was in at all. Instead, she sneered.
"What are you going to do? Kill me? Do it. You might as well have already."
Amunet didn’t know Grey all that well, but she knew enough. She certainly knew enough to know that this was probably retaliation for something he had done too.
He could never leave well enough alone, he always had to one-up someone as though he was in a battle of meeting pretending-to-be-sane people and was insistent on being the craziest one.
Was she only thinking this because he had insisted on doing everything in his power to screw her over since the moment they met again for the second time?
Maybe.
But that was far from the point. She was right, and Grey’s reaction told her all she needed to know about just how right that meant she was.
"You’re on fucking thin ice." Grey said, his voice an octave deeper than usual.
"Oh no, woe is me," Amunet waved her hands around, "not the fucking thin ice. Whatever will I do?" she stood up in her own furious rage, "please tell me for the tenth time how incompetent and worthless I am. I really need to hear it, maybe jerking yourself off in front of everyone again will definitely make you feel better this time."
Grey’s jaw clenched, veins writhing across his chin line. The ruby in his eyes grew deeper and it seemed he might really attack at any moment now, and given the state of his mind, it was hard to say if he could hold back.
With his current level of strength, a strike like that would mean immediate death for her.
"Guys, we don’t have to be like this," Brad tried to mediate. "We don’t know each other that well, but we could do decent things in the future, don’t you think? If we put our heads together, I’m sure we can think of something? It’s not over until it’s over, right?"
Neither Amunet nor Grey seemed to hear him.
"Well, go on then." Amunet held her chin up higher as though to give him a better angle to knock her head off her neck. "Hit me. I’m sure that’ll fix everything like it’s fixed everything else for you."