It's a logistical nightmare, thought the emperor as he tried to sort out habitation for the newest generation of Yeleth. It had only been a few weeks and his people had already overpopulated the continent they had conquered.

Under normal circumstances this wouldn't have been a problem, but the continent that had been stolen was simply hanging in the middle of a blank dimension, its continued life sustained by the magic he and his highest sorcerers had weaved around the continent when they first arrived. Now that the Yeleth numbered in billions, the less powerful Yeleth were turning to cannibalism as the land was increasingly unable to sustain them. Ko-dorr made sure that any that were caught were given a suitably gruesome death, but had been unable to stamp it out entirely. Fortunately most of the casualties had been echidna slaves, but it was starting to become uncontrollable.

This was why he'd arranged a communion with the most powerful yeleth sorcerers and scientists. He re-examined the time piece that had been looted from one of the echidna cities. It was curious mechanism, but quickly figured out by the scientists. It gave little hope, for although his people were quickly unravelling all the secrets of their enemies, his empire would tear itself apart before then.

*************

Weeks had passed since his host had been imprisoned along with these... creatures within what he'd begun to think of as the nightmare country. Vichama forced his weakened host forward towards the next town full of victims, his hold over it dwindling as the finite chaos energies he'd used to manifest began to finally fade. The host redoubled its efforts, almost as though it sensed his weakness. The struggle was intense, and lasted longer than usual, but he finally forced the consciousness, once named Khalac, back into its corner.

Vichama felt a brief satisfaction at a memory, for he'd cut off the mentality of the echidna from its own memories, eventually erasing its sense of self. Currently the only remnant of 'Khalac' was a stubborn flicker of rage and a feeling of betrayal, which fought against its own dissolution even as it continued to battle the war god.

This mental diversion finally ran its course, and Vichama remembered that if he failed to get to a chaos emerald soon, the steady discharge of chaos energy would force him to abandon the host before he could slaughter anything more.

He directed his gaze towards the town, now closer, and trudged towards it. Before he could have flown to get there, but if he didn't conserve his energies now he wouldn't have any for the slaughter once he got there.

*************

"It's clear that the current system of singular overlord is unworkable, there's too much land and too many people for one being to accommodate them all." Many at the table were shocked, not by the idea, for they all knew it, or counted on it in their personal plans, but by the admission. Ko-dorr, Haggra knew, was phenomenally arrogant, so she immediately began to suspect a long term trick which would ultimately work out in the emperor's favour, if she allowed it.

She was startled when a bulky Yeleth patriarch named Dastral rose suddenly, his teeth bared in a feral smile.

"If you're saying that you are insufficient for the task of ruling the yeleth, you should surrender your position to someone better suited." And if you're going to suggest it's you, I'll kill you myself. Haggra thought as she glanced contemptuously up at him. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees as Ko-dorr gave the impetuous patriarch an inscrutable look before speaking.

"I am saying, as the most gifted leader of any yeleth house, that no single yeleth is capable of governing our people." He said clearly "Certainly not anyone without the foresight to see the benefits of the situation being offered." This surprised the female yeleth, as more often than not, Ko-dorr simply punished impertinence with death.

"What, exactly, are you proposing, emperor?" Haggra said quickly, cutting off Dastral who was about to splutter back a challenge. Unlike some of the patriarchs and matriarchs, Haggra was one of the yelethi leaders who had already been ancient when given her personal chaos emerald. Like the thirteen others seated around a finely built wooden table in a pristine white room, she had her gem dangling on a chain. The only Yeleth who didn't flaunt their prize was the emperor himself, who alone held the access to the remaining five that had been captured, save for the white emerald, which the echidnas had stolen from its owner.

"I am 'proposing'," The way the emperor emphasised the word, propose, indicated his distaste for the term, "That we divide up the continent into regions governed by houses, organised from our current clan loyalties."

"Obviously, there are some difficulties involved in oversight and legal problem." Tenedias, a tall, lanky yeleth said, cutting off many of the slower clan leaders "I assume that you intend to retain a certain degree of control, my emperor?"

"Of course, my house shall be empowered by imperial law and handle the enforcement of any laws clans have within their own territories." Thus allowing your soldiers a presence within any clan's territories at any time, thus minimizing any thought of rebellion, Haggra added mentally.

Most of the other yeleth leaders looked around with the same dour expression. It wasn't a complete surrender of power, but at least they would have some degree of autonomy, now.

"Why should we accept even a fraction of you authority, you ancient fool?" But, of course, there's always a fool who wants the whole pie when offered a piece of it without a dagger within, Haggra thought, leaning back and watching lazily as the inevitable violence ensued.

She suspected that Ko-dorr planned for the upstart's attitude, in fact, the ancient yeleth had probably counted on it for a necessary show of force. She wasn't disappointed at the emperor raised his hand and Dastral doubled over, a thin red gruel slipping out of the younger yeleth's teeth. She watched dispassionately as the patriarchs flesh lost its cohesion, sagging off his bones and spilling across the floor as a red gooey substance.

"Is there anyone else that would oppose the house of law?" Ko-dorr's question and unspoken ultimatum were greeted by silence. "Then the lands and territories that would have been allocated to the House of Dastral will be divided up among you. You are dismissed." Haggra was pensive as she and the other patriarchs stood to leave, for the rules of the game had changed, but the stakes remain the same as they had before.

*************

He didn't know what he was fighting, or even who he was; all he knew was that he had to fight, or else he'd fade. The presence, the entity that he had always fought...Was it always? He had no memories of a time before this... faltered, its strength weakening enough to allow him access to the other parts of the consciousness. He touched a... past? Memories of a life, one that seemed almost alien to the non-stop struggle for control that was his existence, and a girl with blue eyes and pale brown fur.

"Tikal!" He uttered, mismatched memories flooded back, almost overwhelming him, but ultimately galvanising his will.

"You stole my life!" He shrieked, the words not passing his lips as the presence gritted their mouth, digging in its defences.

"You started the war!" The accusation was hurled, and the presence felt indignant

"Started THAT war? I, the great Vichama, would never have orchestrated such a disorganised mess as that. It was merely a convenient means of pressuring my high priest into assisting in my manifestation. And you should be honoured that I, an almighty god, chose to use you as my avatar, you pathetic excuse for a host." Although the words were strong, the presence' hold over the body felt tenuous. Khalac didn't bother to reply, he simply focussed as much will as possible to forcing the presence out.

"I know you're weakening, echidna," This comment held a ring of truth, as Khalac was indeed exhausting his reserves of will, but he also knew that the 'god' was almost out of chaos power. He sensed the innate connection between vast amounts of chaos energy and the manifestation of a deity's power. He also had a nagging feeling he was missing something, but at the time he couldn't spare the time to think about it.

The struggle went on for minutes, although from his perception it felt like days.

Finally, when his reserves were almost depleted when the presence said; "Since you want to have this body so much, mortal, I'll allow you to keep it." Khalac was so relieved he failed to notice the particular emphasis and tone the god had used, if he had he might have been a bit more wary of what was to come.

With that the presence was gone so instantaneously that Khalac collapsed to the floor, so unused to being in control of his own body that his bladder relieved itself unbidden.

He cursed about this, his speech slurred as he struggled to regain full control of his body, which began prickle painfully in every place. He tried to determine the source of the pain, but couldn't discern anything. The pain intensified inside his stomach, which felt like something was tearing its way out. The red furred echidna curled up into a foetal position, trying to will the pain away so he could focus on what he needed to do. This became extremely difficult as his stomach burst bloodily open as a tentacle tore its way out and split into two, each end opening to reveal row upon row of teeth. The pain spread to other areas, and Khalac realised, even in his agony, that his body was being torn apart by mutation. Vichama had left him with just enough chaos energy stored within his body to mutate every part of it. He realised that only a god could truly control the vast amounts of chaos energy needed to become a god, and now he was suffering the warped humour of the war god.

He tried as hard as he could to summon up the memories of his past, focussing on the one he held dearest, but was unable to cry out her name as he died, for his voice box had already begun to mutate, along with his jaws and tongue.

Hi, it's me again. Yeah, I yet live. Anyway, here's chapter thirteen after a long wait. I took great pleasure (as I always do) in horribly killing Khalac (I know he didn't do anything wrong, I just like killing off my creations before the story ends.)

Please note, this does indicate a trend in my storywriting. If a character isn't part of the core cast, they will die a horribly painful death, just to satisfy my personal desires of torment for my creations.