It gnawed at her insides, scraping slowly against her psyche to see the dual lines of their followers. Not for the same reasons as Victory, oh no, hers was a more primal need, the incessant desire to watch them all burn. The sensation was quelled only by an overwhelming amusement that tugged her attention away from slaughter. There had been so many little moments like this where she would find herself at His side before others. Not His wife, her. Regardless what it made others think, to Morrigan it simply was satisfying. She was not just another pawn and it was well that everyone knew it.

Unfeeling gaze moved across the ranks of those assembled, finally coming to the end where suddenly hatred blazed. Syn. She had long envisioned the moment they would inevitably come into conflict, the girl who stole the powers of others, and the woman whose power could not be taken. It was Syn's continued usefulness that had spared her time and time again. One day that usefulness would run out and watchful eyes would not be upon her. It gave Morrigan something to look forward to.

It was perhaps with undue unkindness that her visage only softened back to apathetic as she finally found her eyes meeting those of Psion. His continued gifts given to him by the Conduit gave him all manner of things, except the ability to hide that flicker that caused the beast within to let its instinctual passions slam foremost into the front of her mind once more. She would have words with him later...if she could contain herself that long.

A small breath was released as she looked upon the entire group once more.

"Pitiful." More mouthed than spoken, the single utterance left her in a contemptuous whisper.