"She is," he agrees quietly, his voice cool and tempered. "She told me what happened to it, how it came to be like it is." He pauses, the silence meaningful. There's no outrage, but there is wariness. A man who leads his students to such a tragic end is one that has his priorities super screwed up. "Glad to hear that it's not like that with the other Great Ones."

Odeon's exploits remind him of Zeus, and the comparison makes him chuckle darkly a moment before the words truly sink in. Then he stiffens, hands unfolding and gripping the chairs of his arm with a ferocity that turns his knuckles white. "He's not going to seek her out, is he?" he demands. That formless bastard better keep his non-existent paws off Adia if he knows what's good for him.