Black, viscous sludge splattered onto the dark stone tiles. Adam Taurus hadn't quite made it to the toilet before doubling over in the bathroom, tears stinging his eyes as he held his stomach and what felt like liters of the stuff heaved forth from his mouth. Between bouts, he sobbed, pitiful whines bouncing off the walls of the cavernous and extravagant restroom. He plodded forward on hands and knees, dragging himself through the tarry fluid as he closed the distance between him and the blessed porcelain bowl. He pulled himself up onto it, forgoing hygiene in favor of resting his cheek on the rim. He panted. Sludge surged up, out, staining the water black.
Adam Taurus curled up next to the bowl and sobbed. His body, his corpse, was trying to reject the new limbs that infected him. The oily appendages had sprouted black veins around their points of installment, slowly creeping towards the center of his chest. They made a few centimeters' progress each day.
He felt it should worry him, but worry was not known to him. Not anymore. Salem had freed him from worry. The longer the limbs remained, the more detached some of his emotions became. He could not mark the day of its occurrence, but he knew worry, concern, sympathy, empathy, fear, pride, and humor had all fled him within the last week. He could not remember what they were like. He could not remember most things, save for that which Salem or Cinder made him remember. Remember your past. Remember your betrayal. Remember your fall. Remember revolution. Remember to love Cinder. Remember to love Salem. Remember murder. Remember you are a Taurus. Remember you are a demon.
He could not forget some things. Blake, she burned his mind. Thinking of her was like taking a branding iron to the skull, but he could not stop thinking of her. He wanted to tear her asunder, rip her limb from limb, peel the skin from her flesh, and chew on her bones. Amber eyes seared his brain. Bite off her face, crack her open and drink her blood. He clawed at his head, black claws tearing through skin as if he could rip the fire out.
Black bile bubbled up again, so he bent back over the toilet. After another ten or twenty minutes of heaving, he forced himself up, keeping a wary eye on his reflection.
He was taller than he used to be, by a considerable margin, he estimated he was at least 7 feet tall, now, likely owed to the hulking unguligrade legs that had been fused to his corpse. His long, black kimono reached the floor, covering his black cloven hooves. It was odd, standing on his toes all the time, but not altogether unpleasant. What was pleasant was the dark crown of horns that now sat above his brow. The new limbs, he had surmised, somehow affected their growth. No longer did pitiful black spikes slant a scant 5 or 6 inches back from his forehead, now great, dark horns curled out at least a foot to the sides of his head, their tips bone white and curled forwards with wicked points. Taurus indeed.
The claw marks in his head barely bled before his Aura surged, forcing the wounds shut and burning them closed in seconds. His Aura couldn't throttle itself anymore, it went all out for everything, including healing, causing even minor cuts to heal too quickly and scar. Not that he
could tell them apart. Every inch of him was scarred, now. Mottled, ugly skin, pink and raised over every inch of his front, including his face. Even the SDC brand was obscured under dense burn scars, and now both of his eyes were a combination of milky white scar tissue and inky black ooze, creating uncanny swirls. No hair could grow on his thickly scarred head, nor did it seem inclined to.
He felt he should be repulsed by his new reflection, but revulsion had fled him. He admired the horns, they were perfect for goring the tender meat of Salem's enemies. He admired the hooves, they let him reach Cinder's targets quickly and could cave skull and plate with ease. He admired his arms, they allowed him to heft his great blade and his claws flensed flesh just as well. These were gifts. He doubled over again, gripping at his twisting gut and gritting his teeth. With great effort, he managed to keep it down as he stood back up.
He hobbled from the restroom, swallowing wretched bile as he lifted his sheathed nodachi from the coat rack. It was a hulking thing, blade alone at least 5 feet long, and about 7 feet long including the hilt and sheath. Cinder had given it to him not long after his 'resurrection' as a gift from Salem.
Adam closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, fighting down the nausea as he straightened his posture, then tied his sheath to his belt. The sheath occasionally tapped the floor as he stalked the wide stone halls, making a distinct staccato of clops and taps that heralded his presence in the echoing palace.
It was an odd building, Salem's palace. They made him forget the trip he took to get here, but he had seen enough of the outside to know it wasn't in any kingdom, at least not one that he had seen. The sky was always red, and the dirt was dead and blackened. Very few plants lived here, and the only animals he had seen had all been Grimm. The palace itself was a great stone mass on a cliff overlooking the spawning pits. It was wide and long, blocking most of the horizon with its towering walls and spires that threatened to scrape the clouds. The walls on the inside were pristine and the stone had an odd, metallic quality that sparkled in the light of the many lanterns and chandeliers, while the floor was mostly some kind of reddish marble tile, only occasionally broken by long black rugs.
He came upon the great iron doors to the meeting hall before long, and pushed them open with ease.
"Taurus," drawled Cinder, "kind of you to finally attend. You are late."
Adam bowed, at which Emerald and Mercury chuckled. "I am sorry, mistress. I did not want to sully her majesty's floor with my bile."
Cinder rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Perhaps if you didn't fight against your new body, this wouldn't be a problem."
Adam felt something rise within him. He wasn't fighting his body. Why would he? It was a gift. And how could he be expected to command his own immune response? Maybe if she had been more careful piecing him together… Rage. Boiling hatred. Pain. Fear. Sadness. His clawed fingers twitched as memories and urges rose like tidal waves. Cry out. Lunge forward and wring Cinder's throat. Tear her lackeys asunder. Paint the hall red.
He grit his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to forget these feelings and obey his mistress. Inhale, obey, exhale, forget.
After a few long moments, the emotions slid away and the memories crawled back into the recesses of his mind. Each day it became easier to let go. The punishment just wasn't worth a fleeting flash of emotion and memory, and he suspected his limbs could also influence it as their hold deepened.
"I will forgo punishment this time," Cinder continued, "you are lucky Salem has not arrived yet. She would not be so merciful."
Adam bowed again. "Thank you, mistress." Then, without a further word, he pulled a chair from the table and placed it behind Cinder's right side. He had no place at the table. His place was at Cinder's side.
He eyed the rest of the attendants. Mercury and Emerald glanced at him, whispered to each other, then chuckled. Cinder glared at them, but didn't say anything else. Across the iron table sat Arthur Watts and Roman Torchwick. Neo stood just behind him, locking gazes with Adam as Roman and Arthur tried very hard not to look at each other. Her eyes were strange, and he did not like her ever-present smugness.
Just as it looked like Roman and Arthur were going to say something, a frothing spot of black ooze began to spread on the dais at the end of the room. It bubbled, tar-like fluid crawling down the steps as a tuft of white hair slowly rose out of the pool. White hair, red eyes, white skin, marbled with inky black veins, then a long, dark dress as she pulled herself up to her full height.
Adam reveled in her presence, his limbs pulling him from the chair and prostrating himself before his queen. He could feel them squirming with delight as she spoke, her voice like a thousand Blakes torn apart before his eyes. "My children," she intoned, "I hope you have not waited too long."
Everybody averted their eyes from her, save for Cinder. Some were simply too feeble to handle her presence, even being in the same room as her felt as though her Aura was actively trying to supplant his own. She looked at Adam with a loving gaze, her hand raising slightly.
"Rise, Taurus. And please, sit at the table. You are one of ours." Her blessed voice soothed his roiling body, and he hastily obeyed, pulling the heavy chair across the stone floor before taking a seat. Cinder eyed him disapprovingly. "I am sure you are all famished."
Mercury, Emerald, and Roman perked up, but nobody spoke. Adam's hollow stomach rumbled loudly. Cinder glared daggers at him, but Salem merely chuckled.
"Perfect." She said with a small smile before stretching her arms before her, fingers splayed wide as she pulled something out of the pool she'd previously risen from. Its head was like a crystal ball containing a swirling storm of red and black smoke, with bony plates on the bottom of the sphere and a base like a toothy black maw. It floated off the ground, leaving a little space between the floor and the six wispy red tentacles that dangled from its base.
Salem placed her hands on the sphere and focused for a few moments, then pulled back. A couple minutes later, the iron doors burst open.
A delicious scent flooded the room, heralding the arrival of at least a dozen platters and bowls. The servers were all human, and each one bore a smile so wide it almost hid their terror. Each bore a single horn, inky black and seemingly affixed to their foreheads with dark veins that ran under the skin.
A covered dish slid in front of Adam, and he couldn't stop himself from salivating. The scent was unfamiliar to him, but he was excited to savor his queen's hospitality.
Emerald and Mercury stared his way, snickering as the servant slowly pulled the cover off.
A reflective bowl, wide and with a flat bottom, holding a heaping serving of bite-sized shapes and chunks.
Dog food.
Something rose within Adam, but he quickly quashed it, digging his fingers into the bowl and shoveling the food into his mouth. It was a gift from his queen, and he could not squander it. Each chunk tasted like meal and sand, but he chewed and swallowed it regardless.
Emerald guffawed, and Mercury laughed so hard his chair tipped backwards and dumped him onto the floor. Cinder glared at Adam, her knuckles white. Had he done something wrong? He looked up at Salem.
Salem was livid.
With a flick of her wrist, the servant who had delivered his meal cried out before collapsing. Adam jumped at the noise, ready to leap out of his chair before seeing the servant. He was splayed on the floor, limbs twitching as drool leaked from his mouth. The horn was gone, shunted deep into his skull.
Salem turned to Cinder, who pushed her chair back with a scrape and knelt. "I apologize, my lady," she glanced hatefully at Adam, "he is clearly an animal. I should not have allowed him to attend."
Salem sneered at her, then redirected her glare to Emerald and Mercury, the latter of whom had just sat down in his now-upright chair. "Leave."
The two returned her look with wide eyes, then stumbled over each other's words. "I-it was just a—"
"We were just joking!"
"He's not even alive!"
Salem scoffed and waved. A total of eight servants rushed the pair, two on each arm, and pulled them out of the room. They cried and kicked, but their words couldn't be discerned over each other. Eventually, the iron doors shut behind them, and all was quiet again.
One of the remaining servants, another male human, hurriedly scooped up their plates, which were as of yet untouched, and deposited them in front of Adam, taking his old plate and fleeing the room with it. He felt himself immediately salivate.
A steaming bowl of ragout, brimming with beef and vegetables, alongside a gourmet platter with lamb chops, bread, and a dark brown sauce. The dishes alighted his senses, the delectable scent making the aftertaste of dog food even more unpleasant.
Salem appeared before him— he had been so focused on the food he missed her approach— and bent down to match his gaze. She reached a hand out, her cold, soft skin cupping his cheek. Her dark red eyes locked softly with his, and he felt his Aura surge. There was a sensation of comfort, like a warm blanket or a mother's embrace, and Adam felt a great sense of ease.
Salem suddenly turned her eyes to Cinder, giving her a glare before sweeping across the others in the room. "Let it be known," she declared, "my things will be treated better. He is a treasured and loyal servant, and I have more invested in him than almost any of you."
The room remained silent, but quiet understanding passed over the group. Salem gave Adam one last look before straightening up and returning to sit in her throne.
"Now, how are the affairs of my kingdom?" Salem asked, focusing on Cinder. She seemed to have a small internal battle, her eyes flicking rapidly between Adam and Salem, before sighing and standing to address her queen.
"Vale is primed. Abraham's insurgency has already opened more tunnels from Mountain Glenn to Vale, and the unrest among the Faunus is causing refugees to flock to their side. No more Huntsmen have been spotted in the area as of yet, though some Atlesian scout drones have been destroyed." Cinder announced before bowing and returning to her seat.
Salem closed her eyes and nodded. "Ozpin is afraid of causing another uproar over his child soldiers. However, I find it interesting that he has not sent any professional Huntsmen to scout the area. One would think he has sufficient manpower, given that he has recalled so many of them. Perhaps he is planning to make a decisive move…" she gently stroked her chin, "Torchwick?"
He jumped in his seat, then hurriedly removed his hat and stood. "My lady?" He asked, the words sounding odd from a man so egotistical.
Salem raised an eyebrow. "What do you think I would want from you?"
Roman opened his mouth, quip at the ready, before deciding a little wit wasn't worth being skinned alive. "Dust acquisition has been more difficult without the White Fang helping, but we've pretty much sucked Vale dry. Dust prices are astronomical, nobody in Vale can get a steady supply without emptying their wallets, and the SDC has announced they will put a hold on train deliveries to Vale! Beautiful stuff, really. I mean, we're the only ones with supply, we can set the price at whatever we want!" Roman laughed. "We're gonna bankrupt the whole city!"
Salem gave him a weary look. "We are not selling the Dust."
Roman, whose smile had been threatening to split his face, suddenly drooped, expression souring like someone had run over his dog. "Not selling?" He whined.
Salem gave him a hard look. "Not a speck. We will be using all of it."
Arthur entered a coughing fit as he choked on a piece of food. "All—" he hacked and wheezed, unable to speak until Roman leaned over and smacked him between the shoulder blades. A piece of steak flew from his mouth, back onto the plate.
"All of it?" Roman completed for him, ignoring Arthur's glare. "With all due respect, that much Dust could make all but Vale's 1% reliant on us! We could upheave the whole city without firing a shot! What would we even use that much dust for?"
Salem waved away his concerns. "You needn't worry about that. You're getting paid, that's all you care about."
Roman's mouth hung agape, but snapped shut when he saw Cinder's smirk. He knew that smirk, he knew it from before the thing with the train.
There was fire in her eyes. Enough fire to burn the world and rule over its ashes.
Roman's eyes widened as the enormity of their plan hit him. Salem was right, he was here for the money, and they were paying him handsomely, extremely handsomely, but what's the point of money if there are no peasants left to dangle his Lien over? He looked back at Neo. Her expression was deadpan, as usual, but he could see the concern behind her eyes. They were thinking the same thing.
Time to split.