Knowledge had led to the foundation of this great civilisation. Knowledge separated people from the beasts, and knowledge lasted forever. It grew like a mighty tree, passing from generation to generation like a seed that became a stem, a trunk that branched and took it in unexpected directions. A mathematical novelty could become a weapon of war; a sundial could improve crop rotation. Even so-called lore paled beside the wonders of the physical universe. Zavros shared the Primate's vision for a world that had thrown off the shackles of magic. A world of libraries and universities, where the mysteries of the heavens were unravelled, and people were given the same opportunity to learn, rather than follow some archaic system of enchantment academies and builders' guilds.

Zavros wanted to know why blood could fill a human with life, yet take away the blood and he would die. Why did a babe die if it was never held — something Zavros had tested himself? Why did a man's temperament change when he was wounded in the head? And if more of his brain was taken out, how is it he could sometimes talk, but not move his hands, or move his hands but not talk?

As for lore, why was essence a poison, the deadliest poison imaginable, yet a substance that could fill objects with life? Did no one ask? And how could elixir rejuvenate a man's vitality and heal his wounds? What strange fluid now flowed through the Primate's veins?

Zavros burned to find out. Any more experiments though would require more essence. Essence that Moragon needed for the war effort. Essence he did not have.

"Destroyed." Zavros sighed, looking at where the refinery used to be. "Completely destroyed."

"Good to hear," a voice said. "That was my objective."

Before Zavros could react, a hand curled around his neck, twisting him and shoving him back against the wall.

Zavros looked through his oculars, down the length of his nose at the blue eyes that blazed in front of him. "You," Zavros said. "The one who is unharmed by essence." He nodded, looking pleased, even in the position he was in. "Ah, it all makes sense."

"I'm glad you remember me," Killian said. "I would say it's good to see you, Zavros, but I would be lying. Tell me, I want to know. How many did you kill before you got the elixir right?"

"Killian… Killian," Zavros tut-tutted, "what lies have you been listening to? Once we were friends, and you shared our vision for the world."

"Not any more," Killian said. "I stole for the Primate… I even killed for your cause. Not any more. Answer my question. How many have you used for your experiments? How many died for the knowledge?"

Zavros shrugged. "I keep only the statistics that are of interest to me. I can tell you percentages, but numbers?"

"I should kill you now," Killian said.