Emet-Selch stared at Dragelion with a wry smirk as the man felt the need to make some sort of quip. One of those types, eh? "Oh, I wouldn't say that just yet. One wrong step, and there may yet be one young, strong body. Not for no reason that many have met their end here, no?" After all, this place could be dangerous. There was a chance that none--well, none but him anyway, would be going home this day. Things changed a little bit when the death of the flesh was an absolute non issue. His immortality was that of the soul, he was no regenerator, but far more transcendent. Ah, but that soliloquy would be delayed as his attention was grabbed by Keimusho, who had clearly recognized him, and well, he was running wild with that recognition. Was the jig up in some ways? Oh dear.

Ah, the Au'ra was Doman. The fury coming from the man made that obvious enough. Emet-Selch made a soft snorting sound as he shrugged lightly. Well, at least he didn't need to introduce himself. Not to the people here. Just his luck, eh? Along with someone who recognized him, there was that one fellow, Caius Dragelion. Oh, he'd heard of him. The man was making quite the name for himself in this world, and Emet-Selch knew all too well what path those types of people would walk, given the chance. At the very least, the noblewoman would make for decent company. She didn't seem to come already predetermined to detest him, and she seemed cultured enough. Still, he would respond to the shinobi. "Yes, yes. 'Tis I, Solus zos Galvus, founder of Garlemald." He rolled his eyes before answering Mu's question before Caius. "As for what our dear friend Dragelion means, during that mystery of de Lune, I absconded with his body and tried to revive the man. To no avail, I might add."

Well, okay, that wasn't the entire story. But yes, he did in fact try to revive the man. That part was actually completely true. It's just he was also responsible for more shenanigans regarding that entire night. "But it was best that I said nothing on that front at the time. To say I could do it and then fail would have accomplished nothing save to raise the butler's spirit and then dash it completely. A tad cruel, don't you think?" Granted, that wasn't his thought process at the time, but he felt that if nothing else, raising the poor man's hopes would have been awful. Fandaniel may have enjoyed such wanton cruelty, but Emet-Selch did not. Even then, Fandaniel's crystal had been irreparably damaged. There was only so much that could be done to any shard raised up.

But the disdain and indifference gave way to a wry smirk, as his eyes trailed to Caius. "Though I suppose I should behave. Aside from being flanked by two up-and-coming Warriors of Light, well, 'twould not do for our group to splinter before it's even formed. Especially when the Lady has business to conduct." If those two became a problem, he would deal with them. But for now, he gave a courteous bow to Lady Hilda. He'd at least keep some measure of decorum as the group entered into the tower. It was majestic, a sight worthy of song, no doubt. Were that his eyes able to meet such wonders with the wonder it deserved. His introduction was finished, and with them inside, he was able to focus his attention on the machine.

"Allow me, my Lady." He remarked, pressing the yes. Was the inquiry to be entered vocally? Worth a shot. He thought for a moment and then entered his inquiry. "If you could please show us to the Ocular, that would be appreciated. Thank you." He doubted this would be identical or even greatly similar to the Crystal Tower he had wrought, but he had hoped there'd be enough similarities that he could reasonably navigate the place. And for that, well, the Ocular was an important area of the tower.

They split up.

There were new souls he hadn't bothered to track down.

Perfect.

It would begin simply. Once again taking on the ravaged illusion of Jules, he simply sent another shade, this time to where Keimusho, Genesis, and Emma were waiting. There the ravaged shade of Jules would appear once again, right beside Primrose, his head leaning back as another ghastly wail exited his lips. "The cat man... The cat man... The cat man...!" It was a shout directed at no one in particular, and really didn't mean anything on its own, well, out of context. But when you had a murder mystery going about and the deceased tended to show up and start shouting, well... Emet was enjoying himself, at least for the moment. And then the visage began to collapse towards Primrose, vanishing just before any contact. Because hey, if he's going to be doing this, why not give her a little fright? It was just a bit of fun. Granted, this might spook her a bit.

And then again, just one more time. The shade appeared, this time with Vincent, Lumina, and Susan. It stood, ghastly for just a moment, before twisting its head to stare at Lumina, before a loud, shrill wail emanated from it for a few moments before it vanished. No, no. No need to say anything at this point, at this point, he just needed the multiple parties to all be able to confirm that at some point, a vision of the deceased had in fact appeared for them. From there, it might be possible to simply... put the rest together, yes? Content with his newfound meddling, Hades dropped the glamour once the shade was safely vanished, chuckling lightly. Hythlodaeus would be proud. Back in the time of Amaurotine, Hades was far too much of a grouch to take part in simple play like this.

Still, there wasn't much else he could really do with the books on the shelf. Maybe he could figure out something once this was over. Or perhaps even beforehand. Who said he was a grinch? He chuckled lightly, looking more closely at some of the notes in the meantime. Well, it seemed like he had more to do, once this was over. It had been a while since he'd seen Cissnei, perhaps go say hi to her once this was over? She was one who enjoyed the danger of it all, he wondered for a moment, perhaps she was right at home here.

One had to admit, for two people who were supposed to be arch enemies, well, kind of, this was going surprisingly well. His lips curled upward in a smirk. "Are you sure he did not simply break it himself? 'Twould seem he fits the blonde homewrecker part." Alexander was a bit too quick to rush to violence, as much as he said he didn't want violence to be the only answer. Then again, it was the only thing he was really good at. But Emet-Selch could see the man getting into a squabble, it turning violent, and Alex destroying his own place in a moment of red hot rage. The incarnations throughout the ages generally had quirks that followed them, but each incarnation would ultimately have a different personality, and would thus be a different person.

No matter how much Emet-Selch yearned for it, Alexander was not Azem.

But where were his manners? Stepping back inside, he held the door open and ushered her in. "But yes, of course, come in." Once she stepped inside, she would notice that his office was... rather extravagant. Fine pottery, plush rugs, antiques littering the room as well. He was obviously doing extremely well for himself. Well, mostly. His success was rather moderate, and while enough to live on, it wasn't enough for this. Of course, when you could literally magic money into existence and commit massive amounts of fraud, what you could and could not afford became a non issue.

But, Alexander, right. "It's something that's always followed him, I'm afraid." Or, rather, the soul. Alex was not Azem, and it wasn't fair to say they were one in the same. But talking about it this way made it less esoteric and thus easier for Cassandra to digest, he was sure. Sitting down at his desk, he neatly folded his hands together and continued. "It's just he's always had a support group to catch him. He doesn't have that here. So it's far more apparent." In some cases, it worked out well. His friends would always catch him and his atrocious fortunes would reverse sooner or later. Other times, it killed him, and the soul would reincarnate anew.

"Now, I believe you had need of me for something?"

There she was. Silver haired, tall and powerful. Magic and death oozed off of her. Oh, she was alive, so far as he could tell, for sure. But she had a keen connection to that everlasting void that long hungered for all of life, most keenly for those who called themselves undying. But he would not be fooled by mere appearances. Before him stood an adept sorceress, perhaps not to his level, but definitely not one of the myriad existences, feeble and fragmented, in the remnants of his world. Perhaps a handful could measure up, but not many. He looked down at the table, where the purple card lay as he bit back an amused huff. Well, he had to admit, whoever the matchmaker was certainly possessed some manner of keen judgment to them. To pair up two immensely powerful beings, well, there were unique qualities to this matchmaker. Perhaps something to look into when the night was still over.

He gave her another look, her hues making themselves known. A twisted light, was the best way he could describe it. Once shining and radiant with a glowing white, spots and speckles of the dark wormed their way in and twisted it from within. She had given the name of Yunalesca, but how should he respond? He would never give his true name of Hades, goodness, no. But as he came to learn of this world, and the marvels it could facilitate, the utility of Solus and Galvus became less and less. If he were to truly commit to saving his people, then he would do so with some measure of pride. A minor reveal in the long run, perhaps. Several already knew he was here, but one would come if he heard the name he was about to give. It was only a matter of time, perhaps.

So he smiled, unmoving. He spoke up, his voice nasally and languid. "I am Emet-Selch." The title came to his tongue like a long forgotten taste. A title that held meaning to him yet had no meaning in this world. Not unless he gave it such, and he gave it that meaning of duty. But, well, no need to be so blunt about it. "And Emet-Selch means..." He paused for a moment. In truth, it meant the Architect in his native tongue, but well, why go into that? He had been one of the longest to hold the seat, the last to hold the seat, and as such, he felt that perhaps the answer was appropriate as his hands unlaced, laying flat on the table, revealing the smile. "Me." Yes, that would do.

He reached over to get the bottle opener, drilling it into the cork as he began to speak. "I must confess, I had not expected our dear host to be able to come up with a matchmaker for me, but it seems that I can still be surprised." It was an attempt at smalltalk as he finally made some progress with the damned cork. "Tell me about yourself, Lady Yunalesca. I'm sure you have plenty of stories, do you not?" One cloaked in a hue such as hers would undoubtedly have something to wile away the hours. There was a pop as the cork was pulled out, the fragrance of the wine greeting his senses. Pleasant, he could tell. A sweet vintage.