Note: Sorry if this chapter is a little dull, but I've been distracted by a great deal of idiotic theatrics the past several days and have thus been distracted. Either way, here's the next chapter. I hope you don't completely despise it. If you do, oh well.

Immersing herself in the steaming water, Lucy languidly ran a bloodied hand down the white-tiled wall, leaving a crimson streak down its length, the dark, rusty hue in stark contrast against the snowy purity.

Sinking more deeply into the tub, the blood staining her began to weep off of her in rivulets, appearing as though her pores themselves were exuding the sanguine liquid. Idly, Lucy watched as the blood oozed into the water; in just minutes, the entirety of the water was stained red. It was as if she were bathing in the blood itself, submerging herself in the life force of the recently fallen.

Lids growing heavy as the heat of the water eased her into a lull, Lucy drifted off to sleep pondering how it would feel literally to bathe in the blood of one's enemies.

Sometime later, Lucy found herself once against in Orochimaru's lair, awaiting orders. He was, ever punctual, already there waiting for her arrival. Mirthless smile painted across his ashen face, razor-sharp cheekbones appearing ready at any moment to burst through the flesh of his cheeks, golden eyes slightly narrowed, he beckoned for her to come closer with one long, slender hand. Eyebrows slightly raised at the out of character gesture, she nonetheless stepped closer, even though she unconsciously touched a vector to the black mark that would forever mar the pulse of her neck.

"Ah, my dear Lucy. How lovely of you to come visit. Please, have a seat." Bemused, Lucy carefully lowered herself into the chair that had been conveniently placed across his own, never once removing her gaze from Orochimaru. Her master he might be, but she was certainly wary of him; serpents were well-known for springing when least expected, after all. Nevertheless, she kept her expression neutral, making sure that her eyes didn't give away any suspicions that she might be harboring.

Orochimaru's smile grew and with it Lucy's confusion. Just as she was about to voice her perplexity as to why she had been summoned, Orochimaru began to speak. "How are the children? Are they doing well?"

Somewhat taken aback but quickly recovering, Lucy allowed a smirk of her own to cross her face. "Ah." So this was what this little rendezvous is all about, she thought wryly. How pragmatic of him. "As well as can be expected, Orochimaru-sama. They all recognize me as they're mother and seem to have no objections to it. Moreover, all of them are responding well to the cursed seals; as of yet, there have been no markedly poor reactions or mortalities. I can't speak for the future, but I'm willing to predict that there will be a high, if not one hundred percent survival rate." Her report completed, Lucy crossed her legs, awaiting his verdict.

At this point, his grin seemed as though it might stretch from ear to ear, like the infamous smile that so adorned the faces of a number of unfortunate Glasgow residents. His response was summed up in but one word. "Excellent." Relieved at having been spared a monologue, Lucy descended from her perch, intent on leaving so that she might fulfill another, more pressing social obligation.

Now it was Orochimaru's turn to cock a brow. "And what, may I ask, is the rush?" If Lucy wasn't mistaken, his voice held a slight inflection of discontent, as if he hoped for her to stay longer so that they might continue conversing. Any other day, she would appease him, but at the moment, she simply could not. However, she respectfully turned around to face him before saying "The children are calling me right now." Satisfied, Orochimaru leaned back in his seat, his expression melting into what on any other person could be described as a peaceful repose, although on him it was best expressed as the look that a boa constrictor might assume after swallowing a live goat. "But of course. A mother shouldn't leave her children alone for long."

Finally, Lucy was able to make her way towards her children. They were all trying to talk to her at once, their voices blending together so that she could barely distinguish one from the other. It was a wild din in her head, a violent clamor that made it feel as though her head might burst, so she abandoned her legs, instead using her vectors to take flight through the halls before finally landing before the door that housed her offspring.

All of a sudden, the noise that had been previously roaring through her ceased entirely. They could sense her presence and were aware that she was now near. Slowly, Lucy pushed open the door.

Standing in front of her in a perfect row stood six Diclonius children, children that she herself had borne through the use of her vectors. Silpelits, all female, bearing the uniform appearance of the Diclonius, fair-complexioned with hair and eyes in varying shades of pink and scarlet. As if on cue, they disbanded from their tidy row, surrounding her, their ruby eyes full of wonder at Mother. Mother, the Queen, the strongest of them all, the original Diclonius, the one who brought them into this world with her vector virus, the one who would lead them in the obliteration of hornless so that they might carve out this world in the image of the elves.

Lucy smiled, a true smile that for once wasn't laced with sarcasm or bitterness. She stroked the downy heads of her children, her hands lingering at their horns. She would be sure to raise them to make those glossy projections of bone something to be proud of, to feed them the knowledge that their Diclonius birthright manifested in them as the power to reach further than any mere human, the power to crush both stone and enemies with ease. She relayed this to them telepathically and immediately they understood, their blood-hued eyes alight with a combination of eagerness and blood lust. Their instincts were strong, yes. But before they could be sent out onto the battlefield, they needed to be given a test.

In the corner of the room stood a large wooden box, kept shut by a series of padlocked chains. Every so often, it would shake violently, as though its contents were struggling desperately to escape. Indeed, hard, labored panting and subdued growls could be heard emanating from it, and this time the box quaked so violently that it nearly toppled over onto its side. The young Diclonii looked at it curiously, their thoughts all centered on what might be imprisoned within the container.

Lucy's smile stretched wider, revealing her rather prominent canines. "This, my children, is your test. Show Mother your arms."