This story ran off with me. It took off like a culprit from a crime scene, dragging my head with it. Consequently it is going to be a lot longer than I'd previously anticipated. So I've decided to split it up into parts, and give it a format more suitable to its anticipated (absurd) length. So here it goes.
Prologue
It was disgusting, the way Kratos crawled back to them like a wounded animal. Forcystus thought he had more of a spine than that. But the moron had gone soft, as humans are wont to do.
"There is a lesson to be learned here, I think," Forcystus said, whirling the wine around in his glass. It was a fine white, from the expansive vineyards just south of Altamira. It was a little dry for Forcystsus' tastes, but wine was wine, and he wasn't the type to turn it down.
"What sort of lesson would that be?" Kvar sat across from him, legs folded, monitoring Forcystsus' alcoholic intake a little too closely. He took none for himself. For a second Forcystus considered that the wine might be poisoned—after all, any gift from Kvar was likely detrimental. But if Kvar killed him now it would be too obvious who was culpable.
"I'm still deciding that," he answered, raising the glass to his lips.
"Well, I think the obvious lesson is to never cross Lord Yggdrasill."
"But you have to wonder what sort of ignorance would drive someone to do that. Risk his life like that. Abandon his ideals."
Kvar sneered, crossing and uncrossing his legs. He seemed more fidgety than usual—giddy at this exciting new development, perhaps. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me, no."
"You poor man. I suspect you'll never understand the human condition the way I do. But I'm curious to hear your theories."
Yes, Forcystus had plenty of theories. The least likely and basest was that Kratos had found a skirt to chase, and would risk everything to get under it. The second reason may have been that Kratos had discovered something that none of them knew, and it was so utterly repulsive he had to escape. That was also not likely—he'd been in Yggdrasill's inner circle since that inner circle was drawn thousands of years ago. It may be that Kratos had his own designs to overthrow the ruler of Cruxis and seize power for himself. That, too, seemed out of place. No motive stood out to Forcystus as probable. What was even more puzzling was that Kratos had not only cast himself down from the highest echelon of authority conceivable, he had actually mingled, and worse, mated with the inferior rabble so below him.
"I'm at a loss," Forcystus admitted.
"I guess you'll never know." Kvar seemed to revel in the knowledge that he alone possessed. Forcystus didn't want to give the bastard the pleasure of seeing him beg for information, so he merely stared at him, scowling. Their tense silence marked the end of small talk.
The Cardinals' gazes made their way slowly from one another, through the violet-tinted window and into the sequestered chamber below. Hooked into a hissing apparatus lay a bruised and mangled form that was once a complete woman, now a sorry mess of broken bones and slashed skin. She was breathing, her heart beating, but she didn't have enough strength left in her broken body to truly be considered alive. Her left arm, from the elbow downward, was missing.
"Did you ever retrieve the exsphere?" Kvar asked.
"We couldn't locate it."
"Ha! What a sorry excuse for a Cardinal. You really should have left this whole affair to me." He stood, striding up to the window and looking down at the sleeping woman. "She was, after all, my property. I'm of the mind that you should return her to me. We will all be better off for it."
Not a chance in hell, Forcystus thought. "Given her condition, moving her at all will pose substantial risk to the project. She stays here, for now."
Kver pursed his lips, defeated. "What about the little boy?"
"What about him?"
"Any plans for him?"
"I suppose we ought to dispose of him."
Kvar shook his head. "Keep him around. At least until he's a little older. I've found that fourteen or fifteen is the most advantageous time to implant the exsphere. With his genetics I have no doubt he will produce a superlative product."
Forcystus mulled over his wine, saying nothing. Without invitation, and without taking his eyes from the window, Kvar decided to continue. "Tell me, Forcystus, have you ever tried implanting an exsphere on a child?"
"No."
"I don't recommend it. They can't handle it. How long they last depends on their age. I've never tried with an infant, of course, that would just be a waste of time, but toddlers only last a couple days. Five to ten is a little better. Eleven to thirteen, they last a few months, but their bodies are weak, their minds undeveloped. The exsphere gets no sustenance. It drains what little it can out of them and they dry out like fruit in the sun. You can almost see the stone wring their strength from them. They can't do labor, they can't produce a viable product." Forcystus grit his teeth. Of course Kvar would be the first of the Cardinals to try an exsphere implantation on a human child. "So if you want a good product out of him, save him for later. I'll be happy to take him when he's ready. Show you the ropes on how to make a truly superior exsphere."
Forcystus frowned. Kvar always liked to dangle his little successes over the other Cardinals' heads. They had all tried to fulfill the Angelus Project, but only Kvar had the sheer strength of will to go through thousands upon thousands of subjects looking for the perfect host. The others hadn't the know-how to process so many people in so little time—they mused among themselves on how Kvar found the energy to capture so many, to test and dispose of so many, to turn his entire ranch into a slaughterhouse nearly overnight. The practice was unsustainable, but it didn't have to be. Kvar only had to go through so many thousands before he found the right one.
If it hadn't been for a sudden defection so unforeseeable it seemed to be an act of the gods themselves, Kvar would be Desian Grand Cardinal and have half of Cruxis groveling at his feet for his favor. In a way, Kratos saved Forcystus the indignity of being Kvar's underling. And for that, begrudgingly, he was thankful.
"I wish you the best of luck recovering my project," Kvar said, probably sensing Forcystus' indignation from across the room. "And, as is understandable, I wish to be informed of any developments."
"I'll be sure to let you know how the project is going," Forcystus said. Only if my life depends on it.
Kvar flashed him his usual soulless grin, and exited the room, patting Forcystus' shoulder on the way out. Condescending prick.
Forcystus pensively returned to his wine. He took another long look through the tinted window and into the sterilized room below, running through logistics in his head. When he thought he might have everything sorted out, at least for the near future, he absentmindedly skimmed the label on the wine bottle before pouring himself another glass.
