From the very moment he stepped onto the ship, Aetius Varius had felt a nagging sort of sensation within his core. He could not identify the cause of it, not even when Ulysses had stiffened up in that telltale way he had learned to recognize.

So here he stood, dark azure robes fluttering in the light breeze, a hand upon his sword sitting at his hip; ordered to watch over the deck of the Malevolence while the Supreme Commander went to claim the Golden City for the Armada.

Aetius cast his gaze outward into the ruined city, leaning against the railings of the Armada flagship. It was not too difficult to imagine the former glory of this legendary city, even with the broken paths linking the pyramids and the vegetation that had overtaken the towers, greenery creeping up the sides of the once majestic pyramids and snaking into the cracks in the once polished marble.

Had he possessed the eyes of a human, the Assassin would have permitted himself that moment to take it all in. It was impossible to explain, although he could feel a sense of connection to the ruins. Anything to keep his mind off of his heightened sense of alertness, of something wrong and something he needed to address with immediate urgency.

The assassin's right hand rested against the spot where his flesh had been pierced by the blade of the traitor clockwork Argentius. With the effort of Bishop, it had already healed to nothing more than a scar of bronzed over flesh, yet another in his quickly growing collection.

Aetius straightened himself, sharply pivoting on his heels so that he now faced the few other clockworks left behind with him: boots clanking with every step he took as he paced around the ship. His fingers had clenched tightly around the hilt of his schiavona sword, and his lips thinned into a line underneath his hood.

Being a clockwork, his memory was impeccable, every detail recorded. So inevitably, he remembered how Argentius had slipped through his fingers. It sent a fire through his circuitry, and it burned in his processor, occupying his lines of thought. By this point he had learned to name a majority of the emotions he was naturally capable of, from anger down to hatred and loyalty.

And it was hatred that consumed him now.

It was hatred which exploded into a thousand destructive fragments when the two figures from not too long before burst from beneath the deck of the Malevolence, one dashing toward the gangplank and the Golden City, the other attempting until a line of marines had formed a barrier between him and his escape.

Amethyst eyes darted frantically from the row of clockworks to Aetius himself, Argentius Domitius Septimus' panicked hyperventilating audible even from where he stood on the deck.

Aetius took his time, sauntering towards the traitor with his sword drawn and at the ready. He would remedy his mistake now, by removing him from existence so he could no longer possess a threat to his creator's already dwindling health: the others could deal with the swashbuckler Adrian Devereaux.

"Argentius Domitius Septimus."

Argentius whirled around, fumbling for his personal blade from its scabbard at his side. The Assassin's lips almost twitched up into a smile at the spectacle: it was all too clear just how afraid he was.

In spite of this, though, his reaction time had not been slowed in any way: once more, showers of sparks flew between blades when they clashed, the momentum enough to throw Argentius off balance, staggering back until he regained his footing. Aetius did not bother waiting for him, however, dashing forward and slashing at his torso. There was no need to be honorable with a traitor.

Argentius let out a pained cry, his hand clamping over the wound ripped through his uniform and skin, leaving behind a deep gash, blood spilling from it profusely. Varius - he did not know why - sheathed his blade and found himself advancing upon him in a way which he only subconsciously noticed was all too similar to how a predator would, upon their wounded prey.

"The Supreme Commander had spared you, and yet you turned against him."

Amethyst eyes stared pleadingly back into the voids in his face, in place of his eyes. It was just all too pathetic, imperfect, and to think his own creator was obsessed with him in the first place, that he was part of the reason why Ulysses' mental stability was eroding away bit by bit each day. It kindled the flames of hatred within him evermore.

Had Aetius possessed human eyes, they would have narrowed beneath the shadow of his hood out of the poisonous emotion known as hatred. Argentius' very existence was a mistake and a threat to the Supreme Commander. And as the Supreme Commander's soldier, it was Aetius' duty to ensure all such threats were properly taken care of.

Aeitus tightened the fingers of his left hand around his throat until the amethyst eyed clockwork was gasping for the much needed oxygen his system was screaming for, fingers clawing feebly at the hand of the assassin to no avail.

"For the crime of treason against the Armada, as the successor of the Supreme Commander, I, Aetius Varius Septimus, hereby sentence you to death."

One twitch of his wrist had forced the Hidden Blade out of its chamber within his right hand gauntlet, its razor sharp tip burying into the delicate flesh of Argentius' throat up to the very hilt, the steel stained an eerie shade of scarlet.

He could not feel Argentius' blood spilling onto his hand, yet his leather glove was stained a definite shade of crimson. Argentius gagged, blood spilling through Aetius' fingers as the traitor's frame sagged to the floor of the deck, violent tremors running through his form which slowly died down when the flow of blood was far too copious for his hand to stop.

The clockwork's deactivated frame had hit the deck of the Malevolence soon after, blood pooling from the gaping wound opened in the side of his throat by Aetius Varius' hidden blade; the weapon sliding back into its housing with another twitch of his wrist. His death seemed to have lifted the weight which had lingered from the second that Aetius had sworn to eliminate the traitor.

It was relieving, yes, that was the correct human word for it.

"Dispose of his frame, ensure there are no traces left behind."

He would have to return sometime to wash the blood off of his hidden blade later, although it was only a fleeting thought until Aetius was certain the other clockworks aboard the ship had tossed the traitor's bloodied frame overboard, into the dark lower depths of the spiral. Aetius could not prevent himself from wincing upon the sight of the blood, and even more from the thought of what were to happen if Ulysses was to find out about this.

The clockwork Assassin cast his gaze toward the ruins, metal planks creaking beneath his boots as he walked back toward the Malevolence's port side. Briefly, he wondered just what else could be happening at this moment in the ruins, for it was completely impossible to see or hear anything of the troops that had went with the Supreme Commander.

"Servius, Albinus, retain position on the ship."

Aetius climbed onto the railing.

"I shall ensure the safety of the Supreme Commander."

There was no need for him to look back once he jumped away from the ship and into the ruins. The other clockworks would fare perfectly well with him gone, he was certain of this.

Tracking down the Supreme Commander's presence was not too difficult, not with the legion of clockworks trailing him and the glow of the Apple, the brilliant glow which seemed nearly brighter than the sun itself.

Aeitus had half expected for Ulysses to snap at him for disregarding his commands, but the Emperor said nothing even after glancing in his general direction, his attention far too focused on the still surprisingly intact stone door of the pyramid before them.

Aetius glanced around the area: Adrian was nowhere in sight, although that did not necessarily mean he was not here somewhere. Perhaps not in close proximity, for one of the clockworks would have sounded the alarm: although it would indeed be quite a sight to watch the fool deliver himself right into the hands of the clockworks under the command of Ulysses -

The glow from the Apple narrowed into three beams of light, each focusing on a singular point until they formed a triangle upon the stone doors. Dust flew into the air, stone scratching against stone while the door lowered, opening wide and revealing the path leading down into the very heart of the once glorious ruins.

The path to the complete domination of the Spiral.

And so ends Argentius Domitius Septimus. I truly do pity him at times, though being a traitor of the Armada never ends well for anyone involved.

There shall be one more chapter remaining until Valencian Empire officially concludes (sighs) it's so hard to believe that I only started this series like two years or so ago and now it's grown to this size.

However, some announcements: after this concludes, I will be taking a break from working with Ulysses' epic saga (but that does not mean forever, of course) to work on some other writings, such as a one shot dump which will fill in the gaps in the timeline of VL/VE (there will also be a few noncanon one shots included, but those will be clearly marked to differentiate between canon and noncanon) and likely a Dishonored fanfic as well, but that is still TBD. I will not, rest assured, abandon this three book series, and I will return to working on it in the future to put up Valencian Assassin: Maestro Assassino.

Read and review :D until next time!

-Hades