The room is lit with glowing purple crystal lamps, both suspended from the ceiling and mounted on the walls. In the center, a single, massive chandelier dangles over the round table with eleven chairs.

In one seat sits a flaming figure, his armor blackened not by the flames and soot, but by the very nature of his being. His face is mostly hidden by his hood, though burning orange eyes and a mouth lined with sharp teeth are visible.

"Let us commence."

All of the others nod. "Yes, Vladmovos."

Vladmovos directs his attention to the center of the table, extending his hand as a flaming runic circle appears. A map of the world is projected, taking up the whole area of the tabletop.

"Brothers. Sisters. I bring this before you because I feel conflicted. I believe, as you all do, that we were created for one purpose: to bring this creation to heel beneath us, to beckon our Dark Age. I have confidence, indeed pride, in our powers and purpose, yet I cannot shake a disturbing premonition. I seek your counsel, dear siblings, because… I fear for us all."

The man seated to the left of Vladmovos - an elf-like man with gray skin, white hair, and black armor - is surprised, his pure white eyes widening. "Strange… Brother, what spawned this fear?"

"Nothing short of a nightmare, Inteller. It may seem strange to you, that a Son of the Corruption could have a nightmare, but it is true."

Inteller nods, clearing his throat and keeping his long white hair away from his face. "I will look into the matter if you like. As for guidance, I'd like to hear what the others have to say."

The woman to the right of Vladmovos - clad in flowing garments of black cloth, her skin porcelain and pale, and her eyes betraying a hint of trickery - is the first to speak. "First things first: what happened in your nightmare? What did you see?"

Vladmovos grimaces. "Memento, I do not care to explain, for your sake. Such terrors can only be borne by the Mighty."

Memento merely smirks, however. "And once again, your arrogance is your undoing." She holds out one hand. "[Projection: Nightmare]."

Vladmovos lurches in his seat as his mind is opened to the others, a blue glow appearing above the table. It's clouded, but clears quickly.

Indeed, the sight is a nightmare.

Their castle is ablaze, many of the towers damaged or collapsed, the large crystal in the central tower shattered and dim. As the flames dance up the blackened walls, a resounding crash sounds through the area, sending shockwaves through the dust hanging in the air. The towers collapse one by one, with the central tower crumbling into a pile of rubble as the vision ends.

The whole table is silent, then another woman, one clad in brown alchemist's garb, speaks up.

"What the hell were you thinking?! That's not a nightmare, that's a premonition! How long have you kept this from us?!"

Vladmovos grimaces. "A month."

The alchemist gawks at him. "A month?! Are you nuts?!"

"Silence, Imitacia!" he yells, standing. "I am your leader; you defer to me, and I defer to none! To speak towards me in that manner is unacceptable!" His fire climbs to twice his height in his rage.

Imitacia shrinks back, suddenly scared for her safety. A little girl is heard screaming.

Now a man who is half angel, half demon makes his voice heard. "Wrath is not a virtue befitting a leader, brother. Understand that we are simply confused; scared, even. It does not excuse Imitacia's insolence, but you can strive for better."

Vladmovos growls. "I did not ask for your input, Debāucheé."

"Of course, but what manner of divine being would I be if I did not freely offer it?"

"Would you cut it out with the holier-than-thou act?" a raspy, irritated voice calls. It belongs to a corpse-like figure with a strange, parasitic creature making up his upper jaw, leaving the upper half of his head to lean off to the side. His eyes are a dead, sickly yellow.

Debāucheé sneers as his demonic side flares. "Judge not, lest ye be judged in turn!"

"Oh, shove it up your ass!" Necromorph retorts.

Before the two can start going back and forth, someone fires a large frame revolver into the ceiling. The shot echoes through the chamber, silencing everyone as they turn to look.

He stands, revealing his dark leather trench coat and white shirt stained with blood, his eyes a contrasting bright red and manic blue. He holsters his gun as he grins. "As much as I love listening to you all bitch at each other, 'me myself and I' says we oughta look at what we know and go from there."

A little girl in a white sleeveless dress with long, curly, golden brown hair stands up in her seat. "Tem-tem's right! Whatever V saw is super scary, but maybe it can tell us something!"

The table falls silent, then the massive beast speaks. "THIS TRULY IS A NIGHTMARE, IF A KILLER IS MORE AWARE OF MATTERS THAT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS."

Inteller nods with pursed lips. "As much as I hate to admit it, you make a fair statement, Mutago."

Tempo laughs to himself as Polaris smiles.

"So, I guess this means those annoying 'context clues?'" the fourth female asks. The beam of purple light shining on her accents her natural, slightly tanned beauty; it helps that her outfit is confident to the point of provocative.

"Yes, Theatica. Memento, show us the nightmare again," Inteller says.

Memento nods and projects the image of the nightmare once again, doing her best to clear the image of her signature mist.

Everyone except Tempo gasps.

A desert warrior with blank white eyes and his face covered in cloth finally speaks. "Mortals scream their cries at our gates! Their woes would please the Nightmare's ears if they were not so defiant!"

"There's so many, and I can't tell who or what they all are!"

Necromorph notices something: a demihuman with the signature yellow eyes of the Reborn, his most powerful converted servant.

Her blade is turned against him.

"Wait, look at that one! She's Reborn! Why is she attacking us?!"

Inteller leans in for a closer look, though he can't make out any more details than his sibling. "She looks exactly like I'd expect, knowing your powers, Necromorph. My only guess is that she underwent a drastic, unforeseen change."

"Yeah, no kidding, Wise Guy!" he shoots back, snarling. "This kind of thing is impossible! Once they're mine, they're mine." He slouches back in his seat and slicks back his "hair," only for it to go in all directions again.

"Let's face it: we're gonna haveta rethink our methods, or this is what's gonna happen," Tempo states. "The original plan's out the window."

"The Manifestation of Madness states the obvious once again!" Sandman says with an irritated groan.

"Sandman, be silent! We cannot quarrel amongst ourselves if we are to survive!" Vladmovos clenches his fist, takes a deep breath, then exhales. "Tempo, do you have any suggestions on how we proceed?"

Tempo scoffs. "Not me, but Temp might."

He closes his eyes and lets his other half take over, opening them again to reveal they're both a calm blue.

"Apologies once again for the crazed one's behavior; what sort of trouble are we in now?"

Inteller relays the information that Vladmovos' nightmare revealed, and the Corrupt nods.

"I see. Unusual, but I don't think we can't work around this. Imitacia, how well hidden are we?"

She glances around for a bit, apparently caught off guard. "You're asking me?"

Temp smirks. "I addressed you by name, didn't I?"

"I… suppose you did." She clears her throat and brings up a world map, with a shining purple dot in the central wasteland.

"Right, there's the castle," she says, pointing to the dot. "Each area surrounding us is a fragment of the merged realities - 11 of them in total, by my count, maybe more. It's already been a couple months, and nobody's come after us yet, meaning they don't know about us, or they do and just aren't making any moves."

The map vanishes as she looks at Temp again. "What was the point of that?"

He looks at her seriously, silent.

She raises an eyebrow. "Well?"

Necromorph, however, seems to think of something. "We're being left alone." He stands. "They aren't setting foot in our realm. If they know where we are, they aren't doing anything about us."

"Because they don't know of our plans," Inteller adds. "Therefore, why bother? Best to clear up their own misgivings before making a trek into a barren waste to investigate a random castle."

The flames around Vladmovos grow as he chuckles darkly. "Meaning our power can grow unchecked. Once they finally take action…"

Everyone at the table nods. It will be far too late.

Temp stands and bows. "I'll take my leave for now. Tempo's getting impatient." He closes his eyes, which revert.

"So, whaddaya say? I'll admit I don't like sittin' on my ass for a while, but if it's our best shot, then we take it."

"Heh. For once, you had a good idea, Speed Freak. Plus, that means Stitch can just make a huge army without restrictions."

Polaris pouts, however. "I wanna go out and play," she whines while crossing her arms.

"There, there, Poli. I'll play with you after this. Got that sim-u-thingy working yet, Inteller?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "I am a librarian, a researcher, not a technician. And it's not a 'sim-u-thingy'; it's a simulation chamber. I trust I don't need to explain it?"

"What's a simulation chamber?" Polaris asks. "Can I play with it?"

"You most certainly can, Polaris. And you can use it as much as you like, whenever you like," Inteller responds. He gives her a knowing, dark smile.

The girl giggles delightedly and runs over to Inteller, hugging him. "Thanks, Intel!" she says.

Mutago starts to laugh, a flame growing in his maw. His nymphs laugh along with him as a cacophony rises in the room. "OUR DARK AGE SHALL BE THE AGE OF PERFECTION."

"One of learning and enlightenment, to be sure."

"As long as we can all get a little crazy, I'm in!"

"The arts could certainly use a little love~"

Everyone voices their agreement, none more than Necromorph. If anything, the Plagued seems to be plotting something, but what that is, none can say for certain.

"Then it is decided! My brothers, my sisters, we shall bide our time and allow the people to destroy themselves before we strike. Let the weak quibble and tremble at our feet," Vladmovos announces, the flames around him brightening.

"Hold."

Everyone turns to look at Sandman.

"While the Nightmare agrees that our current course is most desired, what becomes of us should these playthings enter our home?"

"Ooh~ I'm more than willing to entertain guests~" Theatica answers, chuckling to herself. It draws a few grimaces from the others.

"I could study them, see what I can find out," Imitacia adds.

Polaris pouts. "But that means I won't get to play with them, Imi! They'll be super bored, and I will, too!"

Imitacia just blinks behind her goggles, unsure of how to answer.

"I have an idea," Memento states.

"Well then?" Vladmovos sneers. "Out with it."

The maiden of memory and sorrow smirks, a glint of hidden danger in her eyes. "We welcome them in."

There's a cacophony that's quickly silenced by a roar from Mutago, who holds her gaze. "THIS INTRIGUES ME. I WILL HEAR YOU OUT."

"Thank you. It's quite simple: as Necromorph mentioned earlier, they don't know about us, or if they do, they don't care much. We can certainly stay hidden if they don't come here, but if they do, then why not treat them as true guests to win their trust?

"It will make their fall all the more satisfying."

Slowly, the others glance at each other, then start to laugh. Even Polaris and Imitacia join in, reveling in the prospect of causing endless misery.

It's Debāucheé who speaks next. "The foolish, so-called gods of this world will be forced to watch their creation crumble beneath us!"

"Then it's decided!" Vladmovos roars, a fist raised in triumph. "All who enter this castle are guests until the time of our ultimate victory! My brothers! My sisters! Our time will soon be at hand! We are the Corruption, masters of this world!

"TO THE FALL OF THE LIGHT, AND THE DAWN OF OUR DARK AGE!"


A.N.: Short? Yes. Sweet? Oh, not at all.

This right here is not connected to the main story of Corruption. It's a new set of events, starting a couple months before things really get going (attack on Tempest, Subaru's troubles with Rem, etc.). Things are gonna get... interesting

This is something I've been thinking of doing since I started working on Corruption, even before. It crossed my mind back when Chaos was still doing Battle of Worlds. A darker turn of events than what's already going down in the main story, really. How, though, can it get darker?

Welcome to the worst possible timeline.

Welcome to IF.