Beneath the main headquarters of the Malkuth military in Grand Chokmah, within the cold, wet dungeons where criminals and enemies of the empire were left to rot, Saphir Wyon Neis seethed. Well, the man that had formerly been Dist the Rose seethed as much as he could in his pathetic state, anyway.

Nose running down to his chin, Saphir lamented the mucus freezing to his once-perfect skin, and the matted knots in his once beautiful hair. His hair, lovely and flawless, and which had been the color of a pale pink rose, the sort to be blessed by the season of summer, and had been the source of his own God-General moniker. Now, all he could think of regarding himself and roses was an old folk song lyric, "and all I ask and all I pray…the last rose of summer is gone, long gone". Indeed it was, as he sat in this dank cell, arms around his knees and shivering, living in the past. The Rose was gone, wilted, crushed and left to decay, slowly fading away into nothingness.

Not that He would care. He never came to visit, except for the rare occasion when He had needed some information on fontech that only Saphir's genius would obviously provide. He had stood there in all of his refined and resplendent glory, serpentine crimson eyes boring a hole into Saphir's heart, and his alluring lips turned upward in his usual mocking and infuriating smirk. Much to Saphir's shame, His ravishing visage set Saphir's loins afire even still. The Love of his life had taken the fontech information, like He had taken everything else in his life, and had left Saphir with the fallout. Oh, how he had cried afterwards.

Gazing woefully at the blank, gray walls of his prison, Saphir ceased to seethe and once again began to weep uncontrollably. This is what he hated the most. Everything he had ever done in his Yulia-forsaken life had been for Him. He had devoted his entire life to Him, had dismantled aspects of himself just to serve Him, had driven away the only other person who had ever cared for him because of Him. Saphir had seared his innate compassion and softness from the very core of his being for Him, to be the better and more masterful scientist that He needed. He did not value weakness. This denial of the self and subsequent self-destruction for the sake of another had included the sins of their youth: His replication of the Professor, then the countless experiments and schemes that followed in the attempt to create the Perfect Replica and bring her back- for Him. The cold and heartless experiments on both replicas and originals had had adverse effects on many- including on a certain young man named Vandesdelca Musto Fende, which had led to the destruction of Hod and the subsequent path that Van Grants took in his life. The ruination of Hod had caused Him to ban fomicry, to abandon his experiments, the Professor, and even Saphir forever. He had banished Saphir from His life, since as far as He was concerned, Saphir was no longer any real use to Him and was nothing but an obsessive pest. This had shattered Saphir to such an extent that he had joined the God-Generals in the Order of Lorelei, partly as revenge and betrayal against Him but also to continue in his research; in the hopes that if Saphir himself brought the Professor back that He would love him and let Saphir be by His side again…

Saphir hugged his legs closer to his chest, squeezing his eye shut. "I am so fucking pathetic," he whispered to the wall, wiping his nose on his prison uniform.

"YOU ARE," bellowed a deep voice in response.

Saphir yelped and jumped from his sitting position to stand with his back to the wall, shaking. A visitor? Who the hell was this?

Saphir was only able to make out a shadowy figure outside of his cell, even with his eyes as accustomed to the darkness as they had become. Apprehension gave way to pure terror as the figure stepped through the bars to reveal himself- a heavily armored knight, shrouded in darkness. The figure's armor was completely black with little ornamentation, and no face showed through his helm; with the exception of his eyes which shone with an unnatural cerulean hue

. Saphir eyes wandered to the large broadsword in the mysterious figure's hand, which also was eerily glowing blue, and he shivered as he felt a desperate chill settle over his psyche.

"W-who are you?" Saphir squeaked, too terrified to even attempt playing the part of the intimidating Dist the Rose. This was one of the most secure prisons in all of Aulderant! He had promised Saphir that he would be safe here, in solitary confinement, away from the other prisoners, away from danger…

"THAT DOES NOT REALLY CONCERN YOU, NOR HAVE YOU BEEN GIVEN THE PERMISSION TO ASK ME QUESTIONS. VERY WELL THEN, I WILL INDULGE YOU THIS ONCE, SAPHIR WYON NEIS. WHERE I AM FROM, I WAS ONCE NAMED ARTHAS MENETHIL, PRINCE OF LORDAERON."

Saphir blinked in confusion. The name was wholly unfamiliar to him, and he certainly did not know of a Lordaeron of which this figure could claim to be a Prince. Saphir was certainly a well-read man, and yet…

"I HAVE RELEASED HE WHO WOULD SEIZE GLORY FROM THE BINDING CHAINS OF DEATH ITSELF. I HAVE GIVEN HIM LIFE SO THAT HE MAY SERVE ME IN THE FULFILLMENT OF MY OWN GOALS IN THE FIRST OF ALL WORLDS, AZEROTH. VANDESDELCA MUSTO FENDE HAS NAMED YOU AS ONE OF HIS FAITHFUL MINIONS IN HIS PRIOR FAILED CAMPAIGN HERE IN…AULDERANT. YOU HAVE BEEN IMPRISONED HERE BY ONE...JADE THE NECROMANCER."

Wisely casting his eyes downwards in deference, Saphir stammered in response, "W-what would you have me do, Lord Arthas Menethil?"

The first of all worlds? Azeroth? What the hell is that? Does He know of its existence?

"I WOULD HAVE YOU SERVE ME, DIST THE ROSE, AND ONLY ME. ONCE YOU ARE RELEASED I WILL GRANT YOU GREAT POWER, AND WITH THAT YOU ARE TO DESTROY THE NECROMANCER. WE CANNOT AFFORD TO HAVE HIS LOT RUNNING ABOUT, UNCHECKED."

Saphir clenched his fists and blinked back tears at the naming of his Beloved for a second time, memories plaguing him of the times he had betrayed Him in the past. He had vowed never to do so again, although it really had not been possible to on account of being locked in this cell. The prospects of great power and seeing Jade squirm were tempting, but the thought of actually killing Him was totally unthinkable and brought on a sudden wave of nausea.

Saphir raised his gaze to defiantly stare into the ghastly visage of the dark knight and whispered, "I will…never betray my Jade again." Unclenching his fists and standing tall with purpose, he spoke more loudly and boldly. "I am no longer Dist the Rose, I am Saphir and I…will never cross my Jade!"

His insubordinance was met with immediate action as Arthas swiftly pointed the tip of his frosty broadsword to Saphir's throat. His cold, penetrating gaze caused Saphir to shiver and the unearthly chuckle that followed was even all the more frightening.

"YOU…ARE A FAGGOT".

Saphir trembled despite himself, and answered brazenly, "That may be so, but I am Jade's faggot! He is the only one I will serve. You can't have me!" Saphir lowered his eyes and his tone as he continued, "Kill me if you have to, I don't fear death." That was a lie, but he would certainly rather perish than betray Him ever again. Saphir gasped as the sword nicked his throat, eliciting more frigid laughter from Arthas.

"NO…I DO FIND THIS…AMUSING. I THINK I WILL LEAVE YOU TO YOUR FAGGOTRY…FOR NOW."

The sword at Saphir's throat then blazed with power, and in a flash of azure brilliance, the shadowy knight vanished. Saphir was forced to his knees, breathing heavily as strange sensations overwhelmed his body. Had Arthas granted him with power in spite of his defiance? Saphir used the wall behind him to steady himself and walked towards his cell door, which was now open. He was…free?

Saphir stepped outside, to find Him and begin his life of"faggotry".