(Dark contemplates this. It has been awhile since He fought, but with the slow yet steady regaining of His godly strength… Well, perhaps an occasional test is called for. However…)
In My world, conquest was a reward all its own. And I can understand how death in the heat of battle can be a great honour for many a warrior.
But how is it that you are so determined to die, that you seek it out with no sense of dignity? Surely, there are things in your life worth living for?
(He’s genuinely puzzled by that. Even the least intelligent species in the multiverse still has a survival instinct, and Dark knows this quite well.)