"No!" I screamed in agony. Mercer dragged me back to Nocturnal so she could finish her communications.
"That's what I thought..." Nocturnal hummed matter-of-factly. She continued, saying, "You won't be my slaves forever, because when you return to my plane of oblivion you won't be slaves there. Plus, my plane of oblivion isn't as unbearable as, say, Molag Bal's." I grunted in disappointment, as did Mercer.
"But, wait! There's more!" cried Gallus, sounding like an overexcited street vendor.
"Oh yes! There's always more with Nocturnal! I can influence your luck. Maybe that one pin that won't budge will. Maybe your pickpocket target will stay asleep for one minute more. Maybe the heist targets will remain at their other residence, just so you can succeed!" Nocturnal preached.
"That's pretty appealing..." Mercer admitted.
"I agree!" I chanted.
"Then it's settled then. You protect the Twilight Sepulcher with your lives, and I will give you a little... Luck. Go get your armor and divide the powers amongst yourselves. I'll be watching..." Nocturnal said as her image and voice slowly faded.
Gallus motioned for us to follow him to a stone room with buckets of unprotected Nightengale armor.
"We'll have to fix that little security issue..." Gallus muttered as Mercer and I grabbed our sizes and put them on. This was the same black hood and cuirass that Gallus was wearing when I met him.
"Does this look like it fits?" I inquired, turning to face Gallus. He just stood there speechless.
"Mercer... Look... At..." Gallus whispered shakily. Mercer turned and gasped.
"Karliah..." Mercer trailed off.
"Your eyes aren't red anymore... They're purple." Gallus breathed.