That breaking things bit was me, heh. I've been thinking more about that and ruthless in general.
The title of the route is extremely relevant. It's not the "ruthless" route, it's specifically "The Ruthless Master". This means many different things at once. It's your part in this story. It's the actions taking place. But more importantly, it's one of the sacred roles the labyrinth was built around.
Whether it's gradual or harsh is fairly irrelevant. It can be either depending on your choices. Are you withdrawn immediately and justifying your bad decisions the entire time or did you accidentally "slip" and break your promise to never send Asterion to the valley? The reason goodness can exist is because of the Gods and their lack of imagination. "The Ruthless Master" is almost like a fast food training video or an infomercial. They take things to their worst possible conclusion to get the point across, regardless of how realistic it would be for you to get in those situations. This is how Gods saw human nature. The labyrinth was constructed to give a human the power to gain could ever want except one: Time. No matter how gradual or suddenly the shift to Ruthless Master is, no matter the excuses or motivations, it's all just a reverberation of the past playing out again. What may seem like once to you is something Asterion has lived through more than an unforgivable amount of times.
I haven't mentioned it until now, but Act 1 of The Ruthless Master is titled "Time Demands His Due". Chapter 12 pre-TRM is very different from Chapter 12 normally because of how much work is done to establish how stark our leads perception of time is. This comes through the dance between Asterion's thoughts and Nemesis's offerings. This of course happens throughout the good route, but there are a few distinctions. Nemesis no longer filters her words to be approachable by the reader and is instead focused on the timescale of someone who has lived multiple thousands of years. She likely knows we could be listening, but at that point, it is too late and wants to emphasize that no matter how important and rational we view our actions, we are utterly insignificant to the two of them.
Then there's the brilliant mechanical shift. Asterion talks about the delay between action and reaction. Likewise, there are stops inserted mid-sentence to punctuate the unnatural rhythm as well as emphasize the cruelty of endless mundanity without having a will. It's a dance between Asterion and those writing and coding. Probably the cruelest sentence is uttered here: "Reign yourself." How easily a false freedom from submission could be misappropriated into a slogan of self-power. It occupied both and considering it's said of a prince, there are many layers at play to make two words put together sting.
This repetition, odd rhythm, and self-torture to cope with physical torture all work in tandem to highlight how non-existent your voice is at this point. It's almost been entirely removed from what should be a shift into Asterion wanting to trust you. You are a blip. Your words aren't new. They're not unique. They're not special, and in the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things, you'll be gone. This really highlights what helps the main story work. Part of why the romance is so special between you and Asterion is that it forces Asterion into a human timeframe. A good master to Asterion may be akin to a good month to us. The timescale is so vastly different that he knows there will eventually be another person to take your place. So while a romance with Asterion may be akin to a life well-spent, something eternal and sacred to your identity and experience, Asterion has to cope with knowing how finite that time is. However, because of that mortal fear he gets a chance to experience humanity to a fuller degree than he's previously been afforded.
As for Nikos and his actions, I think the fifteenth tablet is likely the most relevant thing here. There are a few things that stick out, but there's one line I want to point.
"A price must be paid to do what is right, all men know."
In a tablet titled "Folly". The right thing only requires a price when there is injustice attached, be it personal or societal. In many ways, The Ruthless Master is allegorical using figures we will understand*. It feels very ritualistic. Nikos sees the old gaining power and thus uses that opportunity to play by old-school rules. "An eye for an eye." Justice was something entirely different then and Nikos, through Nemesis, can exploit that way of thinking at the cost of harm done to at least him, possibly others.
*God, I'd love for Nikos to put on a one-person stage play iteration of this. Using a stripper pole from Luke to ascend as everyone watches on in dismay lmao. Maybe Khenbish and his die would appreciate it. :P I low-key ship them but that's neither here nor there. I just want Khenbish to be happy and I think Nikos and his oiled and burnt optimism would stick with him.
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Okay, I really need to get sleep. I just have a couple of thoughts while writing this and replaying some of The Ruthless Master route. Wish I had more energy to more into the allegorical aspects, but I don't know if my train of thought will be there tomorrow. Anyway:
Really cute to have the Fake Argos snake say the master is peacocking about.
I find it interesting that Asterion plays the Lyre. It so heavily emphasizes the strings over other material. Considering the imagery of the fates, it feels like Asterion taking some control over the strings in his life. It also brings to mind the labyrinth and yarn, also a part of "Folly'. Folly itself isn't inherently negative, more just unrealistic with an undercurrent of foolishness. Interesting that Folly is a tablet with no ornamentation that also mentions the potential of a surprise rekindling.
God, I hope even a fraction of this makes sense lmao goooooodnight