Into the Devil's Eye

by Akularz-Shati

DON'T KNOW THE LORE? NO PROBLEM! (see note in chapter 1 for details) Drukhari invade our reality and capture a young woman. She uses her vast knowledge about the Dark Eldar and her sharp mind to stay alive. Will she be interesting enough to be more than just a torture slave? It seems as if fate is smiling upon her... or is someone smiling in particular...? Image by Dmitry Brushray.

19. Chapter 18 - A Favour and a Strife

My dear readers,

I know, my breaks are getting longer. There was a lot of commotion in my life in the last months and I barely found time to write. On top of it all, I struggled with my own demons for quite a while again, who wanted to keep me from continuing. But now I am back! The chapters before the Carnival are tough for me to write, and I am stalling with writing what comes after the Carnvial, so I am not entierly inactive.

Thank you for your continuing support and all the nice reviews and comments and PMs I got. It always warms my heart to see that my writing gets appreciated and supported, though I always take such a long time with my chapters.

Well, then. Enjoy!

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Chapter 18

A Favour and a Strife of Skill

"I could take out your eyes whilst you still see out of them, I could add a one-way valve to your lungs so that you breathe yourself to death, exploding from the inside out, I could make you feel as though you are giving birth with every beat of your heart, I could trap you inside your own body and make you my beautiful puppet, if I wanted to…
So I ask you: why would I kill you, child?"
— Haemonculus Salthazar when asked by a captive if he was going to kill her

"MOST FASCINATING." Vlokarion kept from rolling his eyes. Urien had said that sentence for at least ten times by now, since he had read the list of secret enhancements the Overlord had demanded for the child, and had started rummaging in his notes and samples, to gather all that was needed to integrate said enhancements.

To tear his mind away from the greatly annoying Master Haemonculus, he thought back to the session in which he had given her the first row of enhancements – those she had asked for, and some more. Her request had been reasonable, but she clearly had no idea how far it was allowed to go and how much he could do for her. She was so young – it was unsurprising that she had not thought of everything and despite her sharp wits, she clearly also needed some more time to fully understand that stretching the rules was necessary if she wanted to survive – even for a slave, at some times.

Though Vlokarion had been allowed to taste quite some bits of her suffering and had already known that she was mind-bendingly sweet, nothing had compared to the river of mellowness he had drank from her as she had lied under his needles. Vlokarion had forgotten what it felt like to be drunk, but what he had experienced as she had screamed her skull out on his table, was what he imagined it had to feel like. Yes, the process was excruciating and he had not lied to her as he had told her that adrenaline optimised the integration process. It was a complicated balance he had to find here. On one hand, he wanted to draw all the suffering he could get out of her; on the other, he had to be utterly careful not to break her, since the Overlord had made unmistakably clear what would happen if he broke her. The ancient monster surely was picky about her, and it was so unusual, since it was so unlike him. That he had plans for her was apparent and if one knew what kind of upgrades he demanded for her, it made a lot more sense why he was not concerned with sending her into the Carnival.

Those upgrades ensured utter control over her, that much was clear. To what end this level of control was needed, was a riddle.

Vlokarion suppressed a smile when he thought about his ingenious design, which would enable him to tap into a part of Temira's modifications secretly, without the knowledge or permission of the Overlord. It would be delicious and educating, to say the least.

Vlokarion had teeth-gnashingly traded with Urien to have him help him, but only because it had been absolutely inevitable. It had 'only' cost him one third of the payment he would get from Vect for his work on the girl that exceeded the Carnival services, since Urien owed him for the botched delivery of the message. This payment, on the one hand, was for the ancient mon-keigh samples he had needed to decode her regenerative powers completely, on the other, it ensured Urien's silence and Vlokarion needed that security before he told the tyrant that he had to enlist Urien for the task, for Vect would be displeased, to put it mildly.

Sadly, there was no way around that. Not telling the tyrant was not an option, for if (and, most likely, when) he found out that something so vital had been kept from him, he would be furious. And a furious Overlord mostly led to consequences, which were too dire to calculate with.

Vect would be displeased enough as it was.

Vlokarion was torn out of his pondering as Urien suddenly exclaimed, "Ah! Here we have it!"

The ancient Haemonculus pulled a rack filled with tiniest test-tubes out of the depths of his sample-collection and flourished it in front of Vlokarion as if it was the most precious artefact his colleague had ever been allowed to gaze upon. There was truth to that, though. Mon-keigh samples that ancient were nearly unique in this city, and, of course, Urien possessed most of them.

"Here, this is it!" Urien said excitedly, as he pulled one of the test-tubes with an utterly steady hand out of the rack and handed it carefully to Vlokarion. This absolutely perfectly executed motion mocked his usual, senile demeanour. "This is the key to her regenerative powers, as well as the genetic pointers to the rest of her intriguing upgrades. We should begin immediately, as we have little time on the matter."

A self-satisfied smile played over Vlokarion's face, "I shall start working, you will provide the theoretical knowledge."

Surprisingly calm, Urien retorted, "Do you really think that you have enough time, working all by yourself as it is? One month is painfully short to do the rest of the decoding work, especially considering your insufficient preparations."

The smile deepened on Vlokarion's face. "My preparations might not be as insufficient as you think. I might have… exaggerated that fact a bit." However, he decided to dispense with the games. "Enough of this, Urien! I know very well that you only plot to get your hands on her, for whatever plan you have cooked up now. I can assure you that I won't let it come to this. She is mine and mine alone!"

Now the face of the ancient Master Haemonculus also distorted into a terrible grimace of anger and he spat at Vlokarion, "We shall see whether you veritably will not need my help, Vlokarion. We shall see." His last words were a hiss.

---

I awoke extremely slowly and arduously. My senses only climbed back to consciousness in a languid manner. Breathing was painful, like a thousand needles stinging into my lungs…

That slapped me out of my dullness.

I groaned, as I remembered what had happened to me, and wished in the same moment that I had not. This torture would never leave me for sure. The fact that I still could recall the feeling of those needles in my flesh and bones all too clearly just made it worse. I tried to repress the memory, like I had done with so many other things around here, but it simply did not work, the image and feelings were just burned into my mind.

Unconsciousness had been my relief eventually, after hours of unimaginable pain. Vlokarion had not deigned to give me an anaesthetic.

I wanted to cover my face with my palms and jumped as I almost miscalculated and slapped myself into the face, as they moved way easier than they had before. Of course, every movement made my limbs throb with pain.

This time, I heard someone beside me before I heard their voice. I heard the gentle movement of well-oiled machinery and the subtle rustling of fine cloth. As he spoke, I almost did not recognise him, for I heard every nuance in his voice, every different tone of his multiple vocal chords, a melody I had never hearkened like this before, "Easy, child! You have barely recovered from the procedure and straining your upgraded body too much so early could lead to dire consequences."

I slowly turned my head to the side – it freaked me out how easy this was and that I could feel every little fibre of the bedding I was lying in – and tardily opened my eyes.

This brought the next shock for me.

My vision was thoroughly changed.

I realised that the room I was lying in was actually dark – but my eyes almost immediately adjusted to the non-existent lighting and I perceived Vlokarion clearly in front of me, even though my vision was lacking colour in this utter darkness.

I stared at him in absolute bewilderment – clearly, he had enhanced my senses, I panicked over the thought of what he had done additionally – and asked, dragging and weak, "What… have you done… to me…?"

Vlokarion chuckled – and it was a somewhat mischievous chuckle, I could hear the nuance in it – and said, "I… got a bit carried away. In addition to your requests, I gave you dark vision, sharper senses in general and faster reflexes. You are going to need all of this, believe me."

I sighed deeply and turned my head back. As I took this deep breath, I coughed, since I suddenly smelt so many different things around me. Vlokarion smelt of toluene, mineral oil – was it oil crayons I smelt? – copper, iron – I realised that this had to be the mixture of blood – pain – the heavy, sharp musk of adrenaline – and death – the sickly sweet smell of decay – yes, I had not known until now that those smells existed, but somehow, I now realised it. The whole room was drenched in an odour of everlasting despair, suffering and sickness. I ascertained that the last bit of odours came from me. It was unsurprising, but what freaked me out was that I could smell myself. It was usually not possible for humans to do that. And I smelt like I had been close to death, which was probably true.

Pulling myself together, I said, "I guess, a grand 'thank you' is in order, considering that you helped me along so greatly. I am just not sure how I shall adjust to all these new sensations."

This time, Vlokarion laughed in all earnest. "In time, my young one, in time. Also," He snorted with laughter. "I am not done with you."

Now he had my full attention again, and I looked at him in silent horror.

It amused him; that much was evident, the grin on his face did surely show that. "Yes, there are some more bits I want to give you, since they will make you even stronger. Don't worry, it is all well within the limits of the rules, it is just that rarely slaves think about that. From what I have heard though, this season's competition actually uses their brains, so be on your toes for equally upgraded enemies. Considering that I am the strongest favour-giver you have, I make it my responsibility that you make it out alive again. I will upgrade your body in terms of regeneration, which slows down your need for food and sleep, but also boosts your healing capabilities. Handy, isn't it?" Vlokarion was euphoric and he clearly showed me how much he enjoyed upgrading me.

The worst thing about it was that I was not allowed to be ungrateful here, for he was right – I would need each and every advantage I could get. Still, I was not happy in any way to face this torture once more. Therefore, I mustered every ounce of decency and subservience I had left, and answered, "Surely, my lord. May I ask… how… and when... you will commence the rest of my upgrades?"

Vlokarion's grin widened and he tapped the tips of his fanned-out fingers against each other, looking very much like an archfiend, which he certainly was. Staring at me from under his brow, he said softly, "Are you afraid of it, child?" His voice gave me the shivers, with all these new nuances I now heard in it. The way he was using it now, it shot a cold shiver down my spine.

I blinked, barely handling all my overloading senses, and simply answered, "Y… yes."

A malicious, deep chuckle escaped his scrawny frame. I gasped at the intense goose-bumps his next word produced in me, "Good." He stretched the word to infinity, as it seemed to me and his voice was dripping with the satisfaction and joy it brought him to see me frightened. It only now occurred to me how dangerous and evil Vlokarion was. Apparently, seeing me suffer on his table had triggered something in him, something dark, something vile and he now wanted more of it.

After bathing in my fear for some moments, which seemed like an eternity for me, he said, "Nonetheless, those upgrades will be commenced in a different manner. You will see when the time is ripe. For now, I need you to relax and regenerate. We will commence the second part of your upgrading in four weeks' time."
In one, fluent movement – which made me dizzy, since I could see every crease of his clothes follow his motion with newfound acuity – he got up, stretching his elongated spine, on which he had sat and looking down on me, he continued, "A servant will bring you food and drink. Eat. Rest. Take it slowly. Your brain needs time to adjust to your new senses, reflexes and strength. I will be with you again later." With those words, he slithered out of the room, which I now recognised as his quarters.

Now I had time to let it all sink in. I had to face the fact that I had strayed once more a bit further from my humanity, from the original being I had been a year ago. The thought was intimidating, but also somehow exciting. I always had longed to be different… well, I always had been, which was why I had only had very few acquaintances. That thought brought me back to Lisbeth. I wondered how she was doing and dearly hoped that she did well, considering the circumstances. Of course, there was a small voice in the back of my head that told me that she was doomed, considering how badly Vect had reacted to her before I had left, but I ignored said voice. Chasing this thought away was way too easy. That brought me back to the notion that I had strayed quite far from my former self…

I silenced my spinning thoughts with an angry huff. Driving myself insane would not do me any good, in fact, there were a lot of people around here that would do this for me anyways.

I jumped as the door opened - I jumped because I heard the door opening; it had been absolutely inaudible to me before – and I turned my head to see who was coming in.

I really was not sure. The only thing I was sure of, was that it was certainly a Wrack – the mask was distinctive in that regard. But was it Savva? Or another of Vlokarion's probably numerous minions? What also appeared to me once more was its odour. I could smell that this thing was mainly composed of artificial flesh, chemicals and genetic modifications. I caught whiffs of plastic, steel and 2-Mercaptoethanol. The latter was quite a pungent, earthy and sharp smell. Most people disliked it; I always had been fond of it. It reminded me of the days when I had worked protein assays in a laboratory.

However, I got the answer to 'who was with me' almost immediately, as the limping creature said to me, "Savva is here to bring the slave some nourishment."

I forced a smile upon my face, realising in the same second that such niceties were probably wasted on the Wrack, but continued anyways, "Savva, it is good to see you again. You positively have changed. Has the Maester rewarded you?"

Savva set the tray it was carrying down on a small table beside the bed, then nodded frantically and confirmed proudly, "The master has rewarded Savva for helping with modifying the slave. Savva did well."

I now realised that Savva reminded me of a dog, which would jump around happily every time it was told that it was a good boy. I really wondered again at this point, how this broken and utterly humiliated creature maybe would aspire one day to become such a magnificent mastermind like Vlokarion. What was even more disturbing was the notion that Vlokarion also possibly once had been like that.

These thoughts really were crass and unsettling.

What also was disturbing was that I had not realised that Savva had also been there all the time. I only remembered Vlokarion. Then again, I had no idea what Savva's tasks had been during it all. Apparently the Wrack had not been close to me, for which I was somehow grateful. Though I knew that Savva was nothing but a poor, tortured soul, it certainly creeped me out more than Vlokarion, though I was aware that appearances did not matter around here whatsoever.

"That's… good to hear, I suppose," I said.

"And now, Savva is allowed to take care of the slave while the master is busy," Savva beamed, the hint of its black eyes shining through its metal mask.

I kept from sighing and rolling my eyes. Was Vlokarion punishing me here? I was damn sure that he knew that his minions unsettled me and though Savva was somehow cute in its childish joy, it certainly was unnerving.

However, the next bad news was already coming, as Savva now said, "But now, the slave must eat, to regain her powers! Because she is not allowed to move much, Savva will feed her."

"No… not you… of all the people…" I thought desperately, but as it seemed, there was no way around this. Since Savva seemed like the type which only possessed gross sensory motor skills, this would be a mess, in more than one way.

However, I got completely fazed as Savva started feeding me. It showed a level of delicacy I had not expected. Though I felt humiliated by the act itself, to say the least, Savva was doing a great job. I really had not anticipated that it would have that level of fine motor skills. Savva did not produce a mess, and did not make this whole thing unpleasant for me, though it was awkward as all hell to be fed by a Wrack, who usually only were used for assistance in rather tortuous matters.

Savva seemed to enjoy its task; apparently Vlokarion had made clear to it how precious and important I was and I figured that this portended to Savva how paramount its task in keeping me healthy was.

Though I felt humiliated while it fed me some quite fine, but simple dishes, I took in the nourishment with delight. I needed the strength; that I was aware of.

After it was done, I thanked it, and it retreated with the tray in hand, leaving me all alone once more.

I realised after it was gone that I was still quite spent, and I closed my eyes, giving my mind and body a break from my situation and not finding it hard to fall asleep again.

---

Urien floated about in his laboratory, radiating with malicious glee. Vlokarion had fallen for his ruse this time, utterly and completely. In fact, that the lad had thought he knew everything he, Urien Rakarth, planned, just played into his hands.

Soon, Vlokarion would discover that the sample he had gotten did not reveal everything he needed. The sample held the key to boosting the regeneration process in a mon-keigh body, but for all the other veritably complicated upgrades and modifications that had to be imposed on the child, it was simply insufficient.

Or, rather, Vlokarion would discover the whole truth once it was too late and he had to enlist his very own help to get the work done in time. And then it would be child's play for him to get the samples he wanted from the child.

To make things seem even more humiliating for Vlokarion, he would secretly introduce another, needed sample into the mix, only to put Vlokarion in his place by showing him that only he, Urien Rakarth, was the master of genetic and bodily manipulation.

He would not trade his help for the samples from the girl, no, he knew that Vlokarion would never agree to that, and besides, it would only alleviate his victory, if he did not take in secret what was rightfully his, only to be able to flaunt another outrageous work later on. No, if Vlokarion knew that he had the child's DNA and tissue samples, then his ultimate victory would not be as sweet as it would be this way.

Now, he again had to wait until three quarters of the month passed. He estimated that Vlokarion would discover the missing information by then.

Why was time crawling along all of a sudden?

He really wondered how everybody managed that annoying feeling without constantly eradicating anyone that crossed their way. He chuckled fondly as he beheld his blood-covered laboratory. It had been time for new servants anyways.

---

I awoke from an uneasy slumber. I had tossed and turned in my sleep and I had no idea how much time had passed. Drowsily, I opened my eyes, looked around and jumped as I beheld Savva beside the bed, who stared down at me with anticipation.

Not entirely awake, I asked, "What… what are you… doing here?"

Savva, now apparently happy that I reacted to it, said, "Savva is watching over the slave, as the master has told Savva to do."

I still was tired and felt absolutely whacked and annoyed, and asked, carelessly now, "Savva, what gender are you actually? I really can't tell."

It did not seem to mind, "Savva is male."

Male. Huh. Now I had my answer. It made things easier, for when he would have answered with 'female', I would have been totally confused.

Then it occurred to me that my last toilet visit and bath had been a while ago. Since Savva seemed to be utterly dedicated to making me feel comfortable, I said to him, "Savva, could you show me where the bathroom is? I really need to freshen up."

Savva nodded frantically, stepped to the bed and before I could voice any resistance, he picked me up – without effort, I should mention – and carried me across the room, through another door.

The bathroom we entered behind it was small and frugal, only the most necessary things found in it. The tiles in it were black, as was the entire interior that was in it. Though the sight was somewhat depressing, and it unsettled me that I could only see because of my new-found dark vision, I pushed it all away and directed Savva to sit me down on the toilet. That I was naked made things a lot easier.

I jumped at the thought that I really did not mind the fact right now, though I remembered the time very clearly when my master had forbidden me to wear clothes; the lack of choice had bugged me greatly back then.

Savva did as I had bidden him and sat me down, then remained beside me.

I looked at him askingly.

He apparently did not get what I meant.

I sighed and said, "Do you mind leaving the room?"

"Yes, the master said…" Savva started.

But I cut him off. "There are certain things I want to do alone. This is one of them. I will call you when I have finished and I need your assistance again."

Savva looked at me utterly confused for a second, then he nodded and left.

I took another deep breath and released it with a sigh once he was gone. I dearly hoped that he would only be around as long as I was this utterly weak and I also hoped that this while would not be too long. He already annoyed the hell out of me right now.

After I finished my business and managed with some strain to clean myself – though my muscles worked far more efficiently than before, they still were sore and it seemed to me that my brain still had a hard time with moving them at all – I called for Savva again.

He returned immediately, only to ask me attentively what I needed next.

I told him that I wanted to take a bath, and he prepared one for me. Somehow, I enjoyed this power I had over this utterly strange minion. What I did not enjoy about it was that he was hounding me like a dog. He put me into the pleasantly warm water and watched me relentlessly as I bathed. I was not able to get rid of him and closing my eyes only helped so much. Savva seemed to play for keeps, but I needed to have a word with Vlokarion about it. His Wrack took the whole thing too seriously.

After a while, which I had enjoyed very little, considering that every movement hurt and Savva was guarding me like gold, I was back in bed, feeling exhausted and tired of Savva's presence.

Luckily, I got relieved of it pretty soon, as I, ignoring his constant stare, fell asleep.

I was far from being at the top of my game.

---

I awoke again, feeling pretty drowsy, lying curled-up to a ball on my right side. I winced as I felt that I was no longer alone in bed, but I felt smooth, almost waxy skin against my back and a slender, long-fingered hand that lay on my waist.

I knew who that was before I even looked, as his smell engulfed me. I really had a hard time adjusting to this new, fine sense. As the chemical mixture of Vlokarion's odour shrouded me, I smelt a new nuance in it: paraffin. The obviousness almost made me laugh, as the smell matched up perfectly with the waxy consistency of his skin.

I was grateful for having Vlokarion back, which was, objectively, pretty strange, especially considering the circumstances. Nonetheless, I felt that he already had done a lot worse things to me, so I did not have to fear his caresses.

The Haemonculus chuckled softly behind me and said, "Now, child, I hope, Savva was good to you?"

I sighed and replied, "In a way, yes. He certainly did his best in keeping good care of me. But, to be honest, he overdid it. There is a certain level of privacy I require. And getting watched when I bathe certainly oversteps that kind of boundary."

Vlokarion sniggered once more. "I see. It is unsurprising. You see, child, Savva is incapable of judging said boundaries correctly. It is simply not in his programming."

Programming.

That clearly was shattering. To-be-Haemonculi got programmed to be exactly that. First, a mindless servant. Then, a cold-blooded master. The process was as confusing as it was appalling. Considering that Haemonculi were involved, it was unsurprising. But that did not take the dread away.

"I… I have to admit, I am not sure whether I understand, but I certainly accept it," I said.

Vlokarion chuckled again, but this time, his chuckle had somewhat of a fatherly quality. It was pretty queer, considering that he was lying in bed with me. "I don't expect you to understand, child. This understanding is certainly beyond your reach." I heard and felt him sit up behind me. "Nonetheless, you are a charming addition to my bed and certainly keep me warm while resting."

I now turned around to face him, came to lie on my back, the blanket only covering enough of me for modesty's sake, and said, "Glad to hear that, Maester. And there I thought you did not have to rest."

Vlokarion smiled down on me, his teeth flashing in pure white, a crass contrast in the black-and-white dark vision I possessed now. "You are right; I don't need to rest. But sometimes, it is a nice diversion, especially considering that I get to have you around when I currently do." With these creepy words, he started examining my body and testing it in terms of reflexes and sensitivity. I had this done to me by his hand before, but this time, it was surprising and frightening. I learnt new things about my body, reflexes I had so far not possessed, intensities of touches I had not felt like this before and I wondered that if I ever got out of the Carnival alive, whether I ever would be able to adjust to the needs of my master.

I had no time for the thought, so I chased it away. Besides, as things looked, Vlokarion would pre-train me for that eventuality anyways.

I stopped dead in my pondering and my eyes grew wide as Vlokarion opened a small case he apparently had brought with him and I saw a set of needles inside it. My fright was apparent, as Vlokarion smiled indulgently and said, "Child, are you conducting belonephobia? You can do better than that, now can you?"

"It is… a bit hard… to overcome," I said, voice trembling. The memory was still fresh and I had neither forgotten the feeling, nor my own screams.

"You are delicious, my dear, but I am afraid I have to tell you that you will have to adjust yourself to them again. Needles are, after all, paramount in my line of work," Vlokarion said and shook his head. "I have to test whether your nerves connected properly. It might sting a bit, but will be in no comparison to what you experienced during the active modification process." He took one of the finer needles out of the box and said to me, "Hold still!"

I closed my eyes this time and focused on my breathing, to get myself under control again. I had a hard time with it as I felt him pricking me with said needle time and again, and I felt very much reminded of the modification process. Only my mental training kept me from jumping up and running away.

That, and the inability of even moving one muscle correctly.

My spinning thoughts were silenced, as he said to me, "Do you actually have a name, child?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him confused for a second, before I realised that he actually never had heard my name. "My name is Temira," I simply said.

He hummed as he stitched another spot on my body. "Lovely. Suits you, child," he said. "Did you know that in most cultures it is said that giving someone your name gives them power over you?"

"I am very well aware of that, Maester," I answered truthfully. That was why I was not comfortable at all with telling him my name, but I did not really have a chance there.

"So, it was even so in your culture?" he asked.

"It was considered occult and ancient knowledge in my time, Maester," I answered truthfully.

"Curious. Something gets lost in the past, and then re-emerges millennia later again. Time is a wonderful thing," Vlokarion mused.

I did not know what to say to that, I just hoped that he would be done soon and not use this knowledge against me.

For now, it did not seem that way, for he said, as he was done, "Not bad at all. Once more, your regenerative powers are working their wonders."

I looked at him, utterly confused. "I possess regenerative powers? I mean, out of the ordinary?"

Vlokarion smirked. "Indeed. Far stronger than I have ever seen in any human before you."

"Is there any evidence as to why that is? I mean, genetically speaking?" I asked, now curious on a scientific level. I was sure that he had already analysed my DNA at some point.

The smile on Vlokarion's features deepened. "I would not be much of a Haemonculus if I told you that piece of information, agreed?"

I sighed. "I am sorry, Maester. I did not want to pry in on your secrets. I won't dare to ask again, Maester."

He gently stroked my cheek. "Smart child. It is always refreshing to see that you know exactly what to dare and what to leave. It is a rare occasion with slaves, you know? Most don't understand that piece of wisdom: you have to be content with simply not knowing and understand that not everything needs an explanation."

"Considering that curiosity is one driving part of human nature, it is unsurprising. Then again, it also killed the cat," I said, smirking.

Vlokarion clearly did not know that saying, for he stared at me for some time, not blinking for far too long, and I could almost see how his gears were grinding. Then, slowly, he seemed to get the point and a broad smile showed on his features and he started laughing. Seeing such untainted joy on these features was confusing at best, unsettling at worst. "I have to remember that one!" he sniggered.

"I really am surprised again and again by the things you find highly amusing, Maester," I had to admit. It was queer, to put it mildly.

"Good. That keeps you in suspense," he purred and laid down beside me again. Showing me his – still – surprising strength once more, he pulled me against his side, wrapping his long, sinewy arm around me. I rested my head on his bony shoulder, again I found that touching his body did not bring me any comfort. I did not dare moving too much, as I did not trust myself yet to control my upgraded body.

However, Vlokarion snapped me out of my pondering once again as he laid his other hand upon my cheek and said to me, "You will have to move eventually, otherwise you will never learn how to control your newfound strength. Let's start with something small." With that, he forced my jaw effortlessly open and pressed his mouth upon mine.

As it did every time, it felt utterly strange to be kissed by him, because he felt and tasted so different.

Tasted. So. Different.

I exhaled sharply as I realised that also my sense of taste had been enhanced greatly. I had not noticed it before when Savva had fed me, because the dishes had been new to me, but I knew what Vlokarion had tasted like before. Bitterness punched my taste buds, with an intensity I had never felt before and I had a hard time with keeping myself from gagging because it was so extreme. After I got used to it, I got to feel more nuances of the taste, metallic components, sour touches and the longer Vlokarion held the kiss, the more I felt that his saliva actually seemed to be slightly corrosive for me now. I felt a mild tingling and burning sensation as his tongue touched mine and it needed most of my willpower to return his kiss without struggling, while fighting with my differently reacting muscles. I found that I wanted to explore my new strength and try and push him away from me, but I knew all too well that this would be a terrible mistake.

Vlokarion let go of me after a while, smiled at me and softly caressed my cheek. "It is still a shame that you are not my pet. I could use the distraction."

Though I really did not feel like it, I smiled at him and said, "Well, then we should use what time we have wisely, Maester."

"Indeed. Still, as much as I enjoy taking in your warmth and essence, I have other matters to attend to, and a lot of things to prepare for you still. Savva will keep you company and see to it that you get exercised again. When you get sent back to the Crucibael, it is paramount that you are not out of practice, as I have gathered that you will be training with Lady Hesperax herself."

"Yes, Maester. I am grateful for all the help you deign to give me."

"Good. Now, have some more rest. When you wake up again, it will be time for you to take your first, literal steps… Temira," Vlokarion announced, and left for the bathroom. Hearing him calling me by name shot an icy shiver down my spine. I felt very uneasy with this turn of events. He came back after a short while, though, clad in his wide, dark robes once more, and then left the quarters without saying another word.

I somehow was left with the feeling that Vlokarion was keeping something from me, something that concerned me in particular. I knew that his time was limited with getting all my enhancements right, but he seemed to be concerned with something far greater. Though I knew that I possibly would never get behind it, it nagged at me. Things that made Haemonculi restless certainly were a fatal concern for everybody else.

Though I felt vexed by the thought, I curled up to sleep once more.

---

I awoke softly and gently; this time, my sleep had been truly regenerating. I even managed to stretch myself without too much pain and wrong calculations about my new strength.

One breath and I knew that I was not alone. Savva was with me.

I opened my eyes and sighed as I looked at him.

"Back to feed me again?" I asked meekly.

"No. The slave has to do this herself today," Savva answered.

"Alright. Give me some time to sit up," I said.

I had not been exaggerating. I needed at least ten minutes to sit up. Carrying my own weight was hard and brought the pain back to my muscles. Also, estimation of my strength was really complicated and I had to be really careful not to overshoot with my movements.

As I had managed, I was handed a tray by Savva, with numerous dishes on it, some of which I knew.

Once more, my enhanced sense of taste rewarded me with overshooting salivary glands. Would I ever get used to it? Besides, handling fine motor skills was a task in and of itself; all in all, I could not really enjoy breakfast.

Then I had to get to my feet. I took some deep breaths before I tried, expecting to hurt all over again. I tried…

…and would have fallen onto my face if Savva had not caught me.

I cursed, he laughed. "The slave has to take it slow. Otherwise she will hurt herself," he said as if this was one of the basic truths of the universe.

"I am aware of that," I sighed, noticing on the side how effortless Savva had caught me. I had known that Wracks were really powerful, but now I got a pretty good demonstration how great their physical strength had to be.

I let him set me on my feet, and only as he was sure that I would not fall over, he let go of me. Somehow, I thought this gesture to be touching, but the warm feeling got drowned in the notion that he actually only did it because he was ordered to. I should not confuse his caring for me with affection, because there was none.

He followed me like a dog to the bathroom, but halted in front of it. Almost sullen, he said, "The master forbade Savva to go inside with the slave"

"Thank god," I thought, but just nodded.

Managing only with exertion, I did my daily routine and was also happy that I found some clothing for me. It were briefs and a short tunic. Again, so much fabric covering my body was unusual for me, but I had already felt that it was pretty cold down here, so I was grateful for it.

"Savva will now show the slave around," he said as I had stepped out of the bathroom again.

I just nodded and followed him.

Savva led me through the main room and then through a door I had not seen so far. It was on the far end of the laboratory, almost unremarkable, and it slid aside with a gentle hiss.

Behind it, another corridor opened up, and it was filled to both sides with tanks of different sizes, filled with different fluids, some empty, some holding strange entities I could not name. They seemed to be in different stages of development. I looked around in wonder and Savva explained to me that this was Vlokarion's Grotesque laboratory. The longer we walked down the aisle, the broader the room got and I could see a lot of his creations floating in tanks. It was an eerie sight, as the whole room was glowing with a greenish-bluish sheen, which emerged from the tanks.

We went through another room, which looked similar, only that it also contained some workbenches, which seemed to be primed to add machinery to something. I learned that this was the Talos laboratory. What spooked me most was that I could see some specimens in early stages, which showed how they were made. Different species were used as a basis for these terrible creations, and though it scared me, I also felt honoured, for I knew that Vlokarion was one of the best when it came down to the creation of Talos and his works got appreciated far and wide. I had no means of comparing them, but to me, though terrible, his creations were impressive. I supposed that it was the scientist in me speaking here.

What really surprised me was, on the one hand, that we had not met Vlokarion until now, and how quiet it was down here. I knew how it was in the rest of the tower, but in Vlokarion's demesne, everything was actually pretty quiet. I wondered why that was.

The next rows of rooms were the holding cells for Vlokarion's unfortunate test subjects. Some were simple cells; some were covered with force fields. A constant wailing and groaning could be heard around here, and the smell of fear and disease mixed with this horrifying background noise.

I did not like being here, for it reminded me of what I tried to ignore.

As we passed another row of cells – by now I was wondering where Savva was leading me; we had passed a lot of doors we did not explore – I heard someone say, "Pathetic."

I turned around to the cell from where I heard the word. I blinked a few times, confused and not sure what I should feel about being insulted in such a manner, for I was sure the word was directed towards me. "Big words from someone not even courageous enough to show me her face," I spat back.

I had not to wait for long. A woman, who looked like she was at the right end of the forties, stepped to the bars. She was clad in what was left of her armour, and her red-brown hair was tangled. Her grey eyes shone with a strong spirit and a sense of determination. "Good enough for you, traitor?" she hissed at me, while transfixing me with her hard stare.

I was used to much, much worse concerning stares, though.

Savva cut in from the side, "The slave and Savva should go now…"

"No, Savva, she apparently has something to say, so let's hear it!" I stated determinedly and with a dangerous inflexion. Turning towards her again, I said, "What, exactly, makes me a traitor? And who the hell are you to assume of me what I might or might not be?"

She snorted. "Typical. Only a heretic would not recognise the majesty of the inquisition when she sees it before her. I am inquisitor Octia Aureliana Steelheart and you will address me as such!"

I shot her a vitriolic smile, "I will do no such thing. Inquisitor or not, I will give respect when it is due, and right now, you have given me no reason to respect you."

That took her aback, that I did not even flinch at her mentioning of being an inquisitor. I never had liked the inquisition. To me, they had always been a bunch of pompous fools, most of them not worthy of what they are, corrupt as anybody else. Only very few, in my opinion, were noble enough to truly bear the title of inquisitor.

"Spoken like a true heretic!" she spat, "You want to know why I think you are a traitor? Look at yourself! Following an abomination of the enemy around without any restraints, looking well-fed and well-preserved. Tell me, what did you do to become so privileged? Licked enough boots?"

I snarled back, "You have no idea what I had to go through to survive as well as I do."

"If I had met you back on my ship, I would have burned you without asking twice. Pray that I don't get out of here to show how little mercy I have left for traitors like you!" she hissed.

"Well. Let me break this to you: this is Commorragh. No one walks out of here ever again. And as for your lack of mercy," I really had to laugh at the thought. "I think you will quickly find out that what you thought is merciless is actually just child's play around here." I lowered my voice to an angry snarl. "But thank you for making yourself known to me. I will ask the Maester whether he allows me to watch when he tears you apart."

Sadly enough, if I scared her, she did not show it. She just shook her head and replied, "May the Emperor have mercy on your soul, lost child."

I scoffed at her, "Please. Spare me your sermons." Then I turned and stormed out of the room, in the opposite direction of where Savva wanted to lead me.

I only stopped as I had brought a door between me and that arrogant bitch of a woman. My mind was racing. What the hell had just happened? Why was every human I met so unbelievably narrow-minded?

Savva caught up to me quickly and scolded me, "The slave should not run around alone here."

"I… I am sorry, Savva. Can we go back? I need some time to think," I said.

Savva nodded and brought me back to the quarters.

I still felt like someone had hit me in the face.

---

Vlokarion followed the conversation between Temira and the inquisitor with a slight smile. This was going better than expected; if that imbecilic excuse for the "crown of humanity", as they liked to call themselves, kept walking down that path with her words, his task would be significantly easier. Temira was not taking this well, which was unsurprising, considering the amount of brainwashing she had been subjected to. However, what indeed was astonishing was how much she had retained of her original personality. Most changed greatly under the pressure; in the case of Temira, it was only her emotional landscape and her values that got reshaped. A masterpiece in of itself, but Vlokarion had seen Vect doing this time and again. Before, it had been a recreational distraction, in case of Temira, well, Vlokarion did not know what the tyrant was up to precisely, but he surely understood that there was more to her than to the rest.

Vlokarion also knew that it was time to bring Savva a bit closer to his final goal, which was becoming a Haemonculus, as was clear. He had been a formidable student as of late, and he was playing the part of the dim-witted and simple servant magnificently. Of course, he still understood his position perfectly and that he was nothing more than that to Vlokarion, but he was a lot sharper than he let on towards Temira. However, Vlokarion wanted her to believe that Savva was stupid. It was just a minor thing, but a card of his hand that he did not want to reveal. Still, he enjoyed watching this masterpiece of acting Savva displayed; this one would be a magnificent manipulator one day and all would be none the wiser about his actual wits. It was a feat necessary for a successful Haemonculus – never show what you can really do, otherwise you become boring too quickly. Surprising and keeping clients on their toes while not seeming haughty about it, was the real masterpiece to be achieved here. If only Savva could match his acting skill with his biotechnological skills…

Vlokarion tore his thoughts away from his most promising Wrack and back into the here and now. He had to report back to the Overlord considering his progresses. One was the progress of subtle intrusion into Temira's mind, the other the sufficient deciphering of her genetics. And, with that highly unpleasant talk, he would also receive instruction on what to say to Temira to make her react to the inquisitor's ramblings in the right way.

Vlokarion sighed. He started to sense that he did not get paid enough for his services.

---

I was sitting on the rim of the bed, staring into nothingness, as I heard Vlokarion enter. The sound of his elongated spine rustling over the stone floor was distinctive.

I still had not processed entirely what I had seen and what the presumed inquisitor had said to me. I had known that humankind in this time was zealous at best and fanatic at worst, but this kind of lunacy I had not expected. There was no reasoning with my own kind, as it seemed.

Vlokarion's hoarse voice ripped me out of my pondering, "Savva told me what happened." It was a simple statement, but I knew that there was much more behind it. It would have been wrong to say that Vlokarion felt sorry or remorse for what happened, but I sensed that this had not been planned and he had wanted to avoid that I talked to the inquisitor.

I did not answer. I could not; I was not able to think of something fitting.

So, Vlokarion sat down on the other side of the bed, continuing, "Though I figure that it might be somewhat traumatic to you, seeing one of the most despicable specimens of your own kind, I have the feeling that this was also somewhat eye-opening to you. Am I right?"

I closed my eyes and exhaled audibly.

"Not yet ready to talk about your feelings, hmm? Let me try it for you: you feel disgusted by your own kind, yet try to reason with her behaviour because of the things she might have gone through. I can help you with that part, though. I have not touched her so far. She might have heard some of the things that had happened to others, but she was untouched when she arrived here and she had remained untouched. So, as an inquisitor, as puny as their organisation is, she should be beyond such quick judgement, agreed?" He made a short pause, to let the words sink in. "So, I suggest you cast your doubts in that regard aside. She hated you for what you have done, Temira. She rejected you for what you are. Therefore, let me ask you: who is the imbecile in this scenario? The one in the cage or the one walking free and receiving honours the other can only dream about? Isn't the mindset of mon-keigh just… disgusting?"

I stared silently into thin air for a while, but slowly, I started to tremble. It was not because I was crying, or because I was afraid, but because I was… angry. And this time, it was no helpless anger, but I had a clear focus and I would have an outlet for once. I had not survived this long and fought so hard, just to be rejected by my own kind with such disgusting words. Yes. Vlokarion was right. They were disgusting, all of them. One part of humankind despised me; the other consisted of quivering fools and cowards. There was nothing in between. There were no decent people to be found in the human race.

I was the only one left.

And I would not go down, oh no!

I turned around to face Vlokarion and I growled, "Yes. And I will destroy them for what they are. I will show them all in the only way I can: I will win the Carnival and I will vanquish them all!" Hatred spoke out of me. I hoped that I could nurture it long enough so I would be able to truly do what I just announced I would do. But I would at least leave my mark on history, and if it was the last thing I did around here.

If humanity rejected me, then I would give them a damn good reason to do so.

Vlokarion flashed an evil smile. "Well, if that ain't a new tone! Finally, I have missed that stalwart determination in you, child! With that thought in mind, I suggest you start sparring with Savva tomorrow, to keep those muscles exercised. The second round of modifications is due only in quite a while and it is best if you are in top shape by then."

I nodded, feeling no longer like the whining weakling I had been the past months, and said, "Thank you, Maester. My time down here has given me much more than modifications."

The smile stayed on his features. "Seems as if, child. Now, I think you should get some rest, for tomorrow will be straining for you."

I nodded and lay down to get some rest.

My dreams were sweet again.

---

I felt new determination as I awoke the next morning. The hatred still burned in me and I was eager to finally get going with my training again. I found Savva beside me, and today sitting up, eating and doing basic things was a lot easier than yesterday. I had no idea whether I adjusted so quickly or if I just pushed myself with my renewed willpower through it.

Savva again led me through all the corridors and rooms we had visited yesterday, but I found that the inquisitor was no longer there. Maybe Vlokarion already started to have his fun with her. Served her right. I felt no remorse or pity for her.

Finally, we reached a round room, where Savva halted and said, "This will be the training room for the slave. She will train her body with Savva and her mind with the room."

"What do you mean with that second part?" I asked him, confused.

"The slave has to learn how to adjust to her new senses. The room will stimulate her senses and help her adjust," he explained.

"I see," I replied, not quite happy about that. It would be uncomfortable, to put it mildly. Of that, I was sure.

But, for now, I had to make due with Savva anyways. Basically, he was a living punching bag for me. I quickly found out, no matter how hard I punched him, he did not seem to feel my assault whatsoever. Savva seemed to be a lot tougher than I had expected. But that was the idea of the whole training session: me being able to try out my strength and speed on an intelligent, moving target. Savva let me hit him without resistance in the beginning, but, of course, things did not stay as easy for me all the time. He then started defending himself, forcing me to do complex manoeuvres, to test my new agility, and more than once he let me taste the sand floor. It was good for me, tough. It pushed me to work harder, and I knew that I would need all the training I could get. Also, I got to feel that Savva was not as stupid as I had thought. He used a lot of wits in combat, clever manoeuvres and outsmarted me time and again. I even learned some combinations and counters from him. Also, what I had sensed earlier now also showed: Savva was unbelievably quick, mocking his massive stature. His looks certainly were deceiving when it came down to movement; that he was, after all, Eldar, showed clearly.

The other part of my training was far less fun. The training simulation for my senses started out with exposing me to extreme sensations, so I learned how to handle my newfound senses and their new limits. In the second step, the simulation had me do tasks like solving basic maths or pushing a row of buttons or aligning shapes correctly under maddening circumstances, like loud noises or strong smells, so I learned to concentrate even when my senses were overloading.

I threw up more than once and even fainted a few times, as it was that much to handle. It was not pretty, but it was necessary. Those training sessions left me with terrible headaches most of the time, and each time a different sense was tested… or more at once.

I hated it, but I knew it had to be done.

So, my days were filled with training, and my nights got mostly spent with Vlokarion, who shared the bed with me, exchanging occasional caresses and kisses. It took me some time to get used to him again, especially his kisses, but I managed alright, as I could handle those things quite easily by now.

Thus, my time before the second round of modifications passed slowly.

---

Vlokarion was glad that he currently had Temira occupied with Savva in the back of his premises, far away from his genetic laboratory, where he was currently steaming with anger. He did not want her to know what was actually going on and that there was a play of powers currently engulfing this whole place that endangered her a lot more than anybody else around here, considering that it all happened because of her. If she caught wind of it and so much as breathed a word of this to Vect, he was in a lot of trouble. The tyrant thought her safe down here – well, as safe as anyone could be in Commorragh – and showing him that he, Vlokarion, was actually unable to guarantee her safety, would impose penalties too dire to calculate with.

Urien had fooled him again.

The samples he had gotten from him were incomplete; this was not the entire information that was necessary to install all the upgrades on the girl.

The worst thing was that he could not prove it. Now, it looked like he was not skilled enough to integrate the templates into her DNA, for transcription of RNA and translation of the necessary proteins to alter her body to give it enhanced regeneration power and reduced food consumption and to make the off-the-charts implants work correctly. There was just a tiny, tiny bit missing, small enough to be introduced later on elegantly, without being forced to reveal that indeed something was missing, and he knew exactly that Urien was playing at that. Still, the missing part was small enough that it also could have deteriorated over time, since the samples were ancient, and rebuilding it was impossible, if one did not have extensive knowledge over the DNA structure of primal mon-keigh.

Again, Urien was the only one possessing enough of that knowledge.

Vlokarion gritted his teeth and his breath came in hard, sharp bursts. It needed all of his considerable willpower to not burst out in a fit of anger that would most likely destroy most of his premises. How he hated this old bastard! One day, he would destroy him. And he would make it slow. Very slow. A death so slow and agonising that the whole Dark City would tremble before his expertise. He would make it something Commorragh had never seen before and with this, he would finally take his rightful place as Master Haemonculus.

Alas, time was of the essence now.

After he had taken enough time to calm down again, he resorted to silent plotting. No. He would not let the old monster see that he knew what was up. He would play the game of this old bastard, humiliate himself by admitting that he could not do the job and invite Urien over.

But not before he had finished some preparations.

Because when Urien would come here, this whole place, not only his main laboratory, would function as his eyes and he would immediately know when Urien tried to steal some samples. He would turn the tables and then would impose all the humiliation upon Urien by foiling every attempt of getting some of Temira's DNA. Maybe he even would slip Urien false samples and then watch with malicious glee how the old bastard tried to decipher what he had been given and find no evidence of Temira's specialness. Those secrets were his and his alone.

However, that also meant that the second round of Temira's modifications would be considerably arduous for him, as he would have to watch out for Urien's sleight of hand attempts and commence the upgrades, for he knew that the old bastard would not come around any earlier. They would operate on her and craft the genetic vectors in one go, as Urien usually worked. And since he needed his help, he would have to bow to this modus operandi, even if he disliked it.

Still, Vlokarion smiled. There was a lot to be done and he felt that the odds were finally in his favour.

---

Ever-smiling, Archon Nuscul walked down the corridors of Zuol's domain in Corespur. It surely had been annoyingly hard to convince 'his grumpiness' – Nuscul's mental description of Zuol – to have a word with him in private. Nuscul knew that the old Archon despised him, since they could not be any more different, and saw him like an immature child, which had risen to power just because of its connections. Nuscul was aware that Zuol knew that he was a formidable foe in combat, but also their styles made clear how different they were. Matters in which Nuscul was playful and overbearing, Zuol treated with belligerence and efficiency. What Nuscul found entertaining, Zuol considered a waste of time. Sometimes Nuscul thought that Vect had only put him in the Circle to watch that eternal tit for tat. The Overlord was known for his sometimes pretty peculiar sense of humour.

Nuscul's grin widened as he walked to Zuol's private audience chamber, as the way was lined with things just suiting Zuol so perfectly. It was a long row of achievements and tokens from great foes he had slain, collections of finest weapons and armour and, as a grim and gruesome reminder, the whole display was crowned with the head of his very own father, preserved in fluid, mounted right over the entrance of Zuol's audience chamber. Nuscul shook his head. "Typical," he murmured to himself.

As he and his bodyguard arrived at the door, he motioned them to stay outside. Secrecy was of the essence now.

Nuscul could not hold a small chuckle in as he stepped into Zuol's private audience chamber. The Archon was awaiting him at the head of a long table made out of ebony, sitting in a throne-like chair, arms crossed and staring at him from under his brow. Slightly behind him, to his left, stood an Incubus, hands resting on the hilt of the impressive Klaive, which he had set down before him. In here, apparently the most precious of Zuol's achievements and weapon-collections were displayed and Nuscul could not help but notice the fact that those things grew bigger in size.

Without any form of greeting, Zuol growled at him, "What's so funny?"

He could not keep it in. "Compensating for something?" Nuscul chuckled.

He had not thought it possible, but Zuol managed to draw his face into an even bitterer scowl than before and barked at him. "If you came here to make fun of me, insolent brat, you can turn around right now."

It took all of Nuscul's composure not to answer that with another quip – Zuol made this too easy, really – but rather to walk up to the seated Archon in a casual manner, seating himself to his right without asking and saying, again the lopsided smile on his face, "My, my, it surprises me that you thought that this would go without me teasing you, old chap. What's with your fan boy here? I'd rather keep this between you and me only, as it involves parties that, ah, are known to have eyes and ears everywhere."

Zuol, who had followed Nuscul's every movement with the attention and intention of a hawk ready for swooping down for the kill, let out a low growl, but gestured to the Incubus, who moved out of the room without making a single sound. Nuscul shuddered on the inside. He never had liked Incubi; they were too quiet and sincere for his taste.

Now drawing his face into a fierce smile, Zuol said, "Now that you don't have to be any longer scared by being outnumbered, pretty boy, what do you want? Considering the urgency of your message I thought that you could at least for once drop that stupid attitude of yours, but it seems as if you can't, and I am wondering whether you are not just here to steal my precious time."

"Awh, you hurt my feelings, Aaryn!" Nuscul stated in an overly theatrical tone. But he understood by the slow narrowing of Zuol's eyes that he had to stop trying the Archon's patience, lest all of this had been for naught. However, it was impossible for him to help himself – Zuol made such a perfect target for his quips that he just had to exploit the fact that he for once could talk to the old warrior without Vect breathing down his neck. Dropping the jovial demeanour all of a sudden, he said, "Well, since you are in such a great mood, I'll make it short. Vyras is trying to frame you."

Zuol barely kept from rolling his eyes. "As if I did not know that. I am aware that I am his current target."

That was a little more knowledge than Nuscul had hoped Zuol had, but one did not hold the second highest position in the Circle by being an ignorant fool. No matter. He had a lot to bargain with still. "Sure, he tried to frame us all time and again, but here comes the fun part: this time, there is proof," Nuscul said.

Zuol was not convinced, "And what should this proof be? And why, by the Muses, would you bring it to me and not rather use it to take me down?"

A smile flashed on Nuscul's face, "Oh, Aaryn, because I would miss your grumpy behaviour during the meetings so much!"

"Cut it," Zuol growled.

Nuscul sat straight up and leaned a bit in on Zuol, "Because this time, if I don't share with you what I know, you are done for. What is this worth to you, hmm?"

"That entirely depends on what you believe to know," Zuol snapped.

"Do you really think I would come to you with just a belief of something?" Nuscul's smile showed a viciousness that was rarely to be beheld on his features. "I want you to make sure that I rise in rank in the Circle once Vyras is gone and not have someone else sat right before my nose. You know more about the closest candidates for a Circle position than I do and I want you to make sure that it is I who gains power and not someone else. Also, I get seven eighths of Vyras's domain when he falls."

"You must be joking!" Zuol grated. "Putting in a good word for you with the Overlord is one thing but seven eighths of Vyras's domain? Stop dreaming, kid!"

"Three eighths for you," Nuscul hissed, dead serious all of a sudden.

"Six. You are three ranks below me and you want to make me stick out my neck for you. You have to do better than that. Besides, I am quite sure that you need my troops and leadership when you want to take Vyras down," Zuol insisted coldly.

"Deal!" Nuscul beamed, now instantly jovial once more.

Zuol, aware that he should have bargained for more, harrumphed, "Either you tell me details about this grand knowledge of yours or I'll have you thrown out right now!"

"Easy now, old-timer! Do you really want to be responsible for the death of Vect's new favourite toy? I think that even you possess enough social intelligence to see, even though he has sent her to the Carnival, that she entertains him more than any slave he had in – at least – the last millennia. Do you think he will take kindly to that? Of course, not officially, a slave is a slave, but you know it will always be easy for Vect to find an excuse to have your head."

"What?!" Zuol's voice came like a gunshot. "Vyras, that little snake, it's always the same with him. But that is low, even for him."

"Pretty low, I agree," Nuscul commented.

Zuol sat brooding for a while, obviously extremely annoyed and concerned. Then, through clenched teeth, he said, "Alright, seems as if I have to agree to your still outrageous terms, considering that torturing and murdering you right now is not an option."

"Oh, lucky me," Nuscul stated without smiling, for once. Still, he was pretty sure that this was Zuol's attempt at a joke. But he did not need to know that he saw through that.

"So, what do you know?" Zuol asked.

"Quite recently, Vyras moved some greater sums around, all running into the very specific direction of a certain bounty hunter corporation, which happens to be associated with the current Carnival. Of course, all those things are running through your accounts. Need I continue?" Nuscul elaborated.

"How very elegant," Zuol sneered. "Hesperax will be backing the case against me, then."

"Indeed. She doesn't like to be disrespected. But wait! It gets worse," Nuscul continued.

Zuol sighed. "Go on."

"It also has to be said that you are, as of now, associated with Vect's favourite antagonist," Nuscul said.

"Why the hell has she any interest in that petty matter?" Zuol asked.

"Do you really want to ask that question?"

"Spare me." Another deep sigh escaped from the old Archon. "Very well." He straightened himself in his seat. "I think we should bring the matter to the Overlord's attention, as soon as he deigns to give us an audience. After all, this is a major scheme against him and who knows how long the two have been working together. I take it that your research is well-founded and that you will not share it with me beforehand so I can't claim it for myself?" Annoyance seemed to ooze out of every of Zuol's pores by now.

Nuscul smiled coldly. "Make me look good and I will make you look good, Aaryn."

"Of course… Yevhen," Zuol growled.

"Oh, my! That familiarity! I feel ennobled!" Nuscul burst out with a roar of laughter.

"Don't overdo it, pretty boy. You get paid enough for your cordial assistance," Zuol grated. He got up, snatched his Demiklaives and Splinter Pistol from the side of his seat and readied himself to leave, possibly to convey a message to the Overlord that he and Nuscul desired an audience with him. Before he did, though, he turned around and said in a falsely sweet tone, "Oh, there is just one thing, Yevhen: we all know that our Overlord can only be swayed so much for rewards, so there is no guarantee that you will get what you want, if your evidence is not good enough. My hands may be bound after all."

Nuscul's smile now was icy and he said in an equally frosty tone, "Go to hell, Aaryn."

"Not if I can help it," the old Archon smirked. "And certainly not alone," he added with bared fangs.

---

Nervous did not even cover what I was when the day was finally here on which my second round of modifications was due. I was terrified. I had not forgotten what the last time had felt like, and though I had not only regained my strength and senses, but had them advanced significantly, I still was unsure how I should stand a second round of the needle-horror without snapping.

Yes, I remembered that Vlokarion had said to me that the second round would commence differently, but I always reminded myself that he was a Haemonculus and lying came so natural to him like breathing to another being. I had not forgotten how much he enjoyed my horror about having to face a second round of modifications and he could be very well lying to me, just for the thrill of tasting my fear once more. I was not naïve enough to even believe for a second everything he told me.

I paced in Vlokarion's quarters for quite a while; I had no idea how long I still had to wait, the Maester had left me before I had woken and Savva also had not come around for his usual rounds. I had not eaten today and I remembered very well why Vlokarion had also prevented that the last time he had modified me. I was dead-sure that he would do the same thing to me this time too.

I almost jumped because I was so tense as the door finally opened and Vlokarion slithered in. He noticed my fright, of course, but deigned not to comment upon it – his smile was all the reassurance I needed that he enjoyed seeing me terrified. "Come!" he ordered.

I nodded and followed him into the main room of his demesne.

My heart almost stopped as I saw who awaited me there additionally. It was no one else but the Master Haemonculus himself, Urien Rakarth.

I shot Vlokarion a panicked look, but then remembered my manners, bowed and said with a trembling voice, "Greetings, Master Haemonculus!"

"Oh, how delightful that the duckling is still retaining its formality!" Urien croaked. "Even when being so very scared," he added with his deep, smooth voice.

Several things struck me at once as I heard him speak for the first time with my enhanced senses. His croaking voice was so terrible for me to hear because he used layers of his vocal cords which clashed harmonically with each other. And I also realised that he was using a different set of vocal cords for each of his voices. The level of control he had over his body was astonishing. I wondered how much more he could do.

Also, his scent engulfed me, as pungent as I had thought it would be. I smelt sharp chemicals, like used for tanning hides, ether, mould and the earthy smell of leather. The mixture was hard to bear for my nose and I needed a few seconds to get my roiling stomach under control.

Nonetheless, him being here meant for me that this round of modifications would be even more terrible than the last one. However, I knew that I had to be very careful here, so I said, "Thank you, my lord. I feel honoured that you will be working on me." It was only half the truth. I knew that I should feel honoured, but I was petrified right now. I did not want to feel his hands upon me.

"And how smooth the lies flow from its lips…" he answered in his crooked voice. "It has been well-trained indeed by its master." He floated towards me.

"I… I am sorry, Master, I did not mean any disrespect!" I pleaded.

"Urien…!" Vlokarion started in a warning tone beside me, but the Master Haemonculus waved him off in a reassuring manner.

I did not dare to move as he halted in front of me, laid one of his numerous hands onto my cheek, smiled at me – never before had I seen such a horrible facial expression – and said in his bass voice, "Of course, you did not, little child." With a whisper, which made his words so much creepier than any other inflexion he could have used, he said, "Onto the table with you! We have much work to do!"

I nodded and with the posture of a beaten dog I did as he had bidden me. I was slightly shivering as I lay down on the cold metal. What I found disturbing and reassuring at the same time was that this time there were no needles above me. Though I was relieved that I would be spared at least that experience a second time, I was also not really reassured about what they would do to me instead.

They both also came to the table, Vlokarion right of me, Rakarth left of me. It really was not a reassuring sight.

I looked at them confused as Vlokarion drew a translucent liquid up into a syringe and none of them made any efforts to bind me down in any way. My confusion had to be apparent on my face and was seemingly highly entertaining for the two monsters, because they both chuckled. "The duckling is confused about the lack of restraints," Rakarth rasped sardonically towards Vlokarion. "How quaint!" he added. Looking at me, he said, "Does it really think that physical restraints are the only means for us to immobilise it?"

Horror engulfed me completely and I barely kept from crying. I knew what he meant.

As Vlokarion sank the needle into my arm, he said, "You won't feel a thing this time, child, considering that open surgery is too much for you to bear and we don't want you to break… yet."

The anaesthetic almost immediately took hold of me and pushed me into an artificial slumber…

---

"Shame," Rakarth stated as the girl had been narcotised. "She would be a treat. So sweet."

"Indeed, she is," Vlokarion gloated. He enjoyed that Rakarth would not get more than just some drops of her fear to drink. Temira was his to relish. "Enough musing. We should get to work!" Vlokarion stated.

"True…" Rakarth agreed, lost in thought, and it was evident on his face that he still enjoyed what he had gotten to taste from her and was musing about what he was missing.

Thus, they indeed got to work, to a very complex operation for both of them, and definitely more straining for Vlokarion as he had to watch out for Urien trying to steal samples of Temira. The battle that was fought here was conducted on a level only the fewest of beings could comprehend, let alone recognise. It was not only that Vlokarion had to foil all of Urien's attempts to steal from him, but also to do it so subtly that no offence could be voiced by the Master Haemonculus.

Vlokarion found that his preparations had been sufficient, he was as sure as he could be that he caught Urien every single time; investing into a considerable amount of additional eyes proved to be useful, along with all his preparations of fake samples he almost willingly presented to Urien. He seemingly let him win, let him have the samples the old monster thought to be from Temira, and kept completely from showing any knowledge or concern over the topic.

As Urien left after hours, in which they had worked on Temira, Vlokarion stared at the door which had just closed behind the Master Haemonculus with a broad, gloating smile. "This time, I got you, old bastard," he hissed to himself.

All he had to do now was to strain his ears to enjoy Urien's screeches of defeat, which could be heard pretty quickly thereafter.

---

I almost had gotten used to the feeling of awaking slowly and arduously around here. The last round of modifications had refreshed that memory, many occasions before it had conditioned me to it.

The first thing I sensed was that I was not alone. Someone was beside me; one consciously drawn breath and I knew it was Vlokarion. His scent was unique.

I groaned as I slowly opened my eyes, but closed them again quickly, for everything was spinning around me.

"Easy, child! This was a complex operation – you will need time to adjust, like the last time," Vlokarion's voice echoed in my ears.

"What… did you… actually do?" I asked, again I had to adjust to the fact that speaking was hard and forming words was arduous.

"Your new upgrades took surgeries all over your body, mostly micro-incisions, and the biggest and most delicate part was brain surgery," Vlokarion explained.

"I… I see…" I commented.

"Take your time with waking up. I will be back in a while, then we will see whether everything works as planned," Vlokarion stated.

"Yes… Maester," I said.

Vlokarion got up and left his quarters.

I was grateful for the silence in his quarters right now, because my head was pulsing with exquisite waves of pain; it felt as if my brain wanted to burst my skull. I lay quite still for a while, taking the changes of my body in, and slowly I tried to move again. With relief, I found that I could – I had not lost the ability of using my muscles correctly and as I managed to open my eyes and look down on me, I found that Vlokarion had not been lying – there were several, small cuts all over my body, covered with gel-patches, and I noticed with surprise that they already started closing, slowly but steadily. Vlokarion had not been lying about my regenerative powers.

I was happy about the generosity he showed me, but it also left a bitter taste in my mouth when I thought about the possibilities for punishment my master would now have with me. Stronger healing powers also meant that I could stand far more punishment than before. It was a double-edged sword.

I had no idea how long I lay there, slowly regaining more and more of my composure and strength – far too quickly, as I realised – but as Vlokarion came back, I was already sitting up.

He smiled as he beheld me and said, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Maester, it does," I agreed.

He sat down beside me on the bed and attached a small, metallic patch on the side of my neck. "This is a cortical monitor. It will give me data about your brain while I conduct the tests, so I can see whether everything works as intended."

With that, he started testing me, in terms of motor skills and cognitive skills. As far as I could tell, I did well and also Vlokarion seemed to be satisfied.

"As expected," he commented as we were done. "Everything seems to be in order. Let's see how you do in the next few days," he said. "However, you should now rest again. You still need some time to regenerate."

I half-expected him to now lie down beside me, but he did not, just shot me a somewhat curious look and then left again. I was puzzled by his behaviour and could not make heads or tails of it, since he had enjoyed lying beside me until now very much, but there was no telling what an enormous load of tasks he still had on his hands.

Therefore, I took his advice and laid myself to rest again.

---

The next few days were marked by mind-shattering headaches. They came out of nowhere – in one second, I could be completely fine, walking around with Vlokarion in his premises and assisting him with some of his tasks, in the next second I had dropped to the floor, writhing in pain that almost blocked out my vision as my whole head was hammering and felt as if it was about to burst. Vlokarion explained to me that it was normal after the changes I had gone through and that he was positive the problems would fade after a while.

I sincerely hoped that he was right. However, challenging a Haemonculus about his expertise was really unwise, therefore, I kept my doubts to myself.

The headaches stayed until one week and a half had passed.

It was an agonising while.

---

Vlokarion observed Temira's healing progress with a lot more concern than he let on towards her. What had been done to her had never been done to a mon-keigh before, so there was no telling how it might affect her. He had not lied about her headaches though – it was unsurprising that she experienced them, considering what she had been put through. Nonetheless, he had lied too, because Urien and he had done much, much more to her than what he had told her. As things looked now, she possibly would never know. The Overlord wanted it that way and he had every reason to.

Vlokarion sighed as he stepped into his communication chamber, from where he always contacted Vect. He just hoped that now everything would work just as intended. Though he was as sure as he could be, it still was a bit of a leap they all took there.

He sent his calling sign to Vect, who most likely awaited his message with the uttermost impatience. The communication they had established had been tested against the best decoders, both man and machine, and all had failed, most of the living ones had gone insane while trying it. If there was something like a safe connection in Commorragh, it was this line.

"I take it you have good news for me," the Overlord's voice boomed through Vlokarion's com-bead.

"Yes, Overlord, indeed I have. She is ready, though there were some minor complications," he stated.

"What kind of complications are we talking about?" Vect demanded to know.

"Massive headaches, but nothing more. Her cognitive functions and motor skills are flawlessly restored," Vlokarion explained.

"I see. That much was to be expected. Very well. When shall we start?" the Overlord asked.

"Give me time to get back to her, about five minutes. She should be fast asleep right now, so she will not feel a thing," Vlokarion said.

"Good. Until then," the Overlord agreed.

The connection got severed.

Vlokarion sighed, got up and slithered back to his quarters, where he knew the girl was sleeping. He just hoped that everything went just as expected. With all the trouble he had gone through with Urien, he really could use a break for once. He almost chuckled at that thought. He had never imagined that he would actually wish for a break, with him most of the time being constantly under-engaged. It had been a refreshing change of pace.

Quietly, he entered his quarters, only to find Temira sleeping deeply in his bed, just as he had predicted. She had been put through a lot and it was unsurprising that she slept as deeply as she did. Her body needed every ounce of strength and regeneration it could get. Vlokarion halted beside the bed, attached the cortical monitor to her neck and then stared down at Temira, observing closely what transpired next.

All of a sudden, the whole body of the girl curled itself up to a ball, all muscles strained, and a pained groan escaped her throat. The whole spectacle only lasted for a few seconds; afterwards, her body relaxed, she lay still again, breathing fast, covered in sweat.

Then, slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking several times, carefully moving her head.

Vlokarion, equally carefully, asked, "Temira?"

She screwed up her eyes, rubbed them slowly and with an utterly sharp inflexion that so far had never been heard out of that throat, she said, "Not… quite."

Now Vlokarion smiled fondly. "Ah, Overlord, I am pleased to see that everything worked just as intended."

"I would call it… differently," the thing that looked like Temira, but was not, said. It rolled onto its back, lifted its hands before its face and slowly moved its fingers while staring at them. It reminded of a puppeteer testing out the strings of his marionette. "This is… considerably arduous. So… dull… imprecise."

"It is a mon-keigh body after all, my lord," Vlokarion stated.

"True. I expected as much," Vect in Temira-form declared.

"I guess it will take some time until you adjust to her body, Overlord," Vlokarion said.

"If all goes well, it will be both ways. Mon-keigh bodies are quite adaptive, I think it is safe to say that it will also adapt to my demands, though I am aware that it will be, after all, just a mon-keigh body," Vect stated determinedly. Hearing Temira's voice used in the manner Vect used to speak certainly was unsettling. She immediately seemed far more menacing than before. Also, a maliciousness shone in her eyes that never had been seen in there before and an indifferent expression of contempt was displayed on those soft features.

With a grunt, he sat up; it was evident that Vect was struggling with controlling the imprecise muscles of a mon-keigh body. He shifted to the rim of the bed, stared at Vlokarion out of Temira's viridian eyes and said, "Now that we have established how pitiful mon-keigh motor skills are, let us have a look at the next step: their insufficient senses. Cut me." He offered Vlokarion Temira's left lower arm.

Vlokarion did as bidden and drew a small, yet rather deep cut down the inside of the arm.

Vect frowned, yet seemed to be lost in thought.

"Interesting," he said after a while, in which he had watched the blood billow from the wound.

"My lord?" Vlokarion asked.

"I now see why mon-keigh can stand so little in terms of pain. They only feel one nuance of it, never delving deep enough into the feeling to understand it truly. On the other hand, it is laughable how little they feel and how much they are hurt by it," the Overlord stated and shook the head. "Very well. We have little time, and I have to explore a lot in this body."

"Is the division of your mind actually working as intended?" Vlokarion asked.

"Yes, that part works quite nicely. However, considering that there is not much to fill in here, it is not hard. I think it will not be a problem to control her if needed and still concentrate enough on my daily business," Vect stated. Then, he got her body to her feet; it was visible that the mon-keigh body could not follow the commands of an Eldar brain as desired. It probably would take some time until Vect could dumb down his commands enough to make her body comply with them like he wanted.

For a while, he walked around in the quarters, and it was remarkable to watch how quickly he actually adjusted. Soon, Temira's body moved with an unknown grace, but Vlokarion's masterful eye also saw that it was a lot of strain that was put on the muscles. A single look at the monitor, which showed him the data of the cortical device, was enough to make him understand how much strain the procedure put on her brain and mind as well. Temira most likely would feel the repercussions of Vect's ventures into her body afterwards, both mentally and physically. Also, Vlokarion was aware that it would be an unsettling sight for most, as he knew that what was walking around in front of him was the Overlord himself, but others would not. What made it so strange was that Temira's body looked and felt completely different when 'possessed' by the Overlord. She radiated a confidence that had never been seen on her so far – Vect's confidence, as it stood – and had an almost queen-like demeanour.

For a moment, Vlokarion caught himself wondering what Temira could have been if she had not been captured. However, he dismissed the thought with an internal grin again. She was a mon-keigh. What a stupid notion to think that she would have had any better purpose elsewhere than being the perfect tool for the Overlord.

And for him, too. But that little secret he kept to himself. She would be his eyes and ears in Corespur, if she survived the Carnival, without ever knowing, which was perfect, because this way, no one could question her about it. This way, he at least had a chance of finding out in time if the Overlord's favour towards him had decayed.

Vlokarion was ripped out of his pondering as her unusually sharp voice pierced his mind, "Very well. That is enough for now. The next night I will try and do some more complicated things than walking. I can only stand this dull confinement for so long," Vect stated. "Although I have to say, the broadcasting of her senses works just as intended. I can sense everything she experiences, which will make for some delightful perspective when she is in the Carnival. And I am looking forward to trying out the mental communication between her and me. It will aid me nicely in manipulating her."

"I am glad that you are pleased with my work, Overlord," Vlokarion said.

A cruel smile showed on those youthful features. "Quit the submission, Vlokarion, I am not buying it. Your pride is oozing out of your every pore." The puppet walked back to the bed.

Vlokarion took another quick look on the small monitor and said, "If you had not suggested it, I would have advised that you retreat now. The mental strain is getting too much for her to handle. I suggest taking this venture exceedingly slowly."

"I agree. I think we have strained dear Temira enough for today. Until tomorrow, when I will stay a bit longer." With these words, he laid her body down, her eyes closed and with another spontaneous spasm his mind left her body.

Vlokarion grinned widely. Everything was working just as planned.

Now all he had to do was to collect his overdue reward.

---

Unbelievably straining did not in any way describe my next awakening. I felt as if I had run a marathon while I was asleep. All my muscles were sore and I felt terribly cold inside, as if I had been filled up with ice, as if a cold fire had burned me out completely from the inside. Cold, sick and empty.

With a groan, I opened my eyes, and beheld Vlokarion beside me, who sat on the rim of the bed and looked down at me. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Terrible. I am sore all over and I feel as if I had been filled with ice cubes," I said.

He nodded. "Alright. That was to be expected."

"Expected? From what?"

"First, your mind had to adjust to your upgrades, now it is your body that has to do the adjusting. It will take about two weeks still, I am estimating. After that, you will go back to the Crucibael," Vlokarion explained.

"I see. Well, nothing to do but push through it, right?" I asked.

"Indeed. You best get going. Savva is waiting," Vlokarion explained. Then, he left.

I obeyed and got up, though it was arduous. I thought to myself, "Let's hope that you haven't fucked up this time." Yes, I really hoped that Vlokarion had not botched one of the upgrades or even Rakarth tried to introduce something to torment me. I could never know, but if things did not die down once I was back at the Crucibael, I was done for.

With those gloomy thoughts, I went on with my day.

---

Vlokarion monitored Temira constantly, to be sure that he estimated the strain on her body correctly. It was a tough business for her for sure and she was walking on the rim of maximum strain, but he was confident that she could bear it. During the day, she trained with Savva and her senses, at night, Vect did his exercises with her body. Her body got very little rest these days, but Vlokarion was vigilant that it did not get too little. He watched the progress the Overlord made with surprise and astonishment. He had estimated that it would take longer for Vect to master her body, but it only took him a few days to transfer his skills to her body. Still, the strain he put her body under was at the maximum levels it could take, but this mode was only meant for rare occasions and emergencies, not to be used constantly on her. Her body would withstand it from time to time.

Three days before Temira had to go back to the Crucibael, they stopped the nightly invasions of Vect into her body, so she got some time to regenerate, before she faced her training with Hesperax.

Though Temira did not feel too confident about her new upgrades, since she suffered a lot as it was, he knew she would get her confidence back once her weakness was over.

---

When I had lost all hope concerning my strength, I finally felt better. It was only shortly before I left for the Crucibael again and I was really glad that I got at least three days left in which I had time to gather my strength. I hoped that Vlokarion never had to work so invasively on me again, as it clearly was a lot of strain that I was put on me.

I spent the last days training and regaining my strength, and boosting my confidence again. I somehow felt sad that I had to leave Vlokarion again so soon, as I had enjoyed the time with him together. Going back to the Crucibael meant that I went back to getting pushed around again. I expected that Hesperax would make it all even worse for me and that my upgrades just had made me somewhat usable for her.

On the day I left, I was to go with Savva again, who would bring me back to the Crucibael.

Vlokarion said to me, "Don't you dare go dying in the Carnival! I don't want to have wasted all those hours working on you, though I have to admit, I enjoyed them."

I smiled as he caressed my cheek and answered, "I am not planning on it, Maester. I am looking forward to seeing you again."

He smiled widely, "As am I, Temira, as am I."

With that, I left for the Crucibael again.

In front of my room, also Savva said his goodbyes to me. "Thank you for training with me, Savva. You really helped me along," I said to him.

"Savva was happy to assist. Now the master will reward Savva!" the Wrack cooed happily.

I smiled. I could not help but like him. "Well then. I shall not be keeping you any longer!"

Savva had not to be told twice. He scuttled away.

With a heavy sigh, I observed him until he was out of sight. Somehow, I would miss him too. Then, I turned and entered my quarters.

What immediately leapt out at me was the metal box on my desk, as well as the note attached to it. With a heavily beating heart and suddenly trembling hands, I took the note and opened it.

I swallowed heavily as I read the lines the message held,

"Hello my dear,

Kind regards from Yaelindra.
I allowed myself to upgrade your favour a bit. That vial of poison was a cute idea, my sweet child, but not good enough. See for yourself what I turned it into.

Nonetheless: you owe me.
You know what that means.

Good hunting,
T. E."

I put my hand before my mouth and collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, as I had read those lines. That insufferable bastard! It seemed as if Ea'nash would go to all the lengths just to get me a second time into his bed. Once really had been enough. And now that he knew what I could stand the least, I was sure he would use it again on me and make this second night a living hell for me.

I shook my head and pushed the thought away. Right now, I had other things to worry about and there was no telling whether Ea'nash would really get me, if my master did not allow it. Besides, if I died in the Carnival, all of this worrying I did right now was for naught.

I put the message aside, as reading it over and over again would do me no good, and opened the metal box carefully.

My eyes grew wide as I saw what was inside. It was a pair of finely crafted daggers, and I read from a note that was inside that the daggers could be poison-coated by pushing a small button on the downside of the hilts. I took the daggers out and gave them some testing swings. They perfectly fitted into my hands, were absolutely immaculately balanced and had just the right weight for me. It really was a great upgrade of the favour Ea'nash had prompted for me. I had to be grateful for his intervention, but I was not grateful for what he was imposing on me with that again.

And I had to tell my master about it. He would not be pleased that I had needed help, to put it mildly.

With a heavy sigh, I placed the daggers carefully back into the box. Then, I went for a shower and went to bed. Sleeping seemed like a terribly hard task right now, but I knew I would need every ounce of strength tomorrow, when I would have my first training session with the grand mistress of all Wyches herself.

I just hoped that Ailith had not lied to me in that regard and that Lelith would think too I was ready.

This night, I rested uneasy.

---

Lisbeth had tried to end it for herself by now – not by her own hand, she had no means to do so whatsoever – but she had already tried to make some critical mistakes in a row, to annoy Vect so greatly that he would annihilate her – and she had apologised silently to Temira for being so weak. However, he had shown his true sadism and composure when she had done that. The Overlord had easily seen through her ruse and all he had done to her was laughing at her for her weak attempt of suicide – which had hurt more than any physical torture. He had not punished her for any of her mistakes in any other manner, just to show her that her life would end when he decided it, but also made clear in the same turn that if she thought of daring him in such a manner ever again, he would truly make her wish that she was dead.

He never stopped tormenting her, and by now, Lisbeth was not sure whether it was the physical pain that was slowly breaking her or if it was the mental torture he subjected her to. She would never forget one of his speeches, which he had given while slowly sinking a blade into her, re-opening one of her numerous wounds, turning the blade in her injured flesh, relishing her cries and talking to her like he was telling a story to a child, "Does that hurt? That is just stimuli. You are just reacting to it. You will get used to that, even if you are quite slow with it. Pain. You can get used to pain, you can adjust to it - you can adjust to pretty much anything, just as long as there is routine. Yes, routine, the human mind, it craves it, needs it. However, if you take that away, that… that is when most of you pathetic creatures break. When you take away day and night and food, no water, no patterns…" Lisbeth could not forget this terrible smile he had flashed at her in this moment, before continuing, "And you know what the best thing about that is? Even though you know what is happening… rationalising it will not save you. Most think that torture is pain, but pain is only a small part of it. Another, far more important part is time. Time, to slowly realise, your life is over." That horrid baring of his fangs. "You and me, we have time."

Though he had invaded her mind with that once more, as it was with all the things he said to her when he was torturing her, he had also opened her eyes with it and had made her understand why she was not able to adjust to what he was doing to her. He had not taken away all of the routine yet, that he had made painfully clear to her, but now she understood why it was so hard for her to resist him. How had Temira stood this for so long without snapping? Had he really treated her so differently? What was she doing wrong that he pushed her so hard?

At this point, Lisbeth was not sure of anything anymore.

It made no sense to Lisbeth, as most things he did made no sense to her, but at least that she had understood by now, that it was impossible to make sense of his actions.

Today was another day in hell, on which she had to serve in the throne room. Though it took all her strength to even walk, she actually enjoyed those days, because she got a little bit away from him when she was serving other Archons. Not that those gave her any kind of break, but somehow, it was easier to bear when she got even the smallest amount of time for herself.

However, she was feeling particularly terrible today and she found her thoughts circling around the topic of suicide once more and how she would not be able to do it. At times like these, she wondered how she actually managed to go on. And why she did. But, as it seemed, the flame of life was not so easily extinguished. Also, the Overlord had imposed on her that she was to coordinate all the other slaves today and Lisbeth was feeling particularly desperate about that, because she had no idea how to manage that, as she had not forgotten what Temira had told her about the incompetence and reluctance of the slaves to obey her. She would not have the strength and guts to hurt them to do their jobs. She would fail and that Vect would probably beat her senseless at the end of this day was a certainty for her.

Sighing deeply, she entered the kitchen, barely hearing the mocking remarks of the overseer down here and went to the other slaves. She tried to keep her chin up, to push through, trying not to seem weak, but as she stood before them, she was not able to get a single word out.

All she managed was to break down and cry.

And what then happened, she had not expected.

Lisbeth had expected that the slaves would ignore her and that the overseer would come around to flog her into doing her work, but instead she found herself surrounded by several human slaves, she got hugged and stroked and shushed. A young woman, seemingly about her age, said to her, "Hey, I know how you feel. It's alright, just let it out."

Never before had reassurance from strangers felt so good. Lisbeth only managed to stutter, "Th… thank… y… you."

The young woman smiled at her and said, "You have to coordinate us today, right?"

Lisbeth nodded.

"Let's do this together, ok? I'm Novia. What's your name?" Novia asked.

"L… Lisbeth," she answered.

"Ok, Lisbeth. Let me show you around, together, we can do this!" Novia reassured her.

And so she did.

The longer Lisbeth spent time among the other slaves, the better she felt. Still, she was puzzled about what Temira had told her about the others; they were not bad, in fact, they were as desperate as her, but they made her feel like she belonged. And that feeling gave her the strength to continue.

To survive until Temira came back.

Temira would come back.

She had to come back.

Nonetheless, for today, Lisbeth avoided the topic of Temira, since she did not want to start a discussion with the others, who had just picked her up.

So the day went pretty smoothly for her, as far as she could say, and the fact that Vect, for once, did not have her punished in between showed that she had done better than usual. Yes, he even refrained from hurting her afterwards, when she was with him again in his quarters.

However, she did not go completely unscathed. She never did. As Vect had locked her up in the cage for the 'night', he shortly halted in front of it and stared down at her for a few seconds. By now, Lisbeth could at least return his gaze for a while, though it still felt for her like he was piercing her brain with it. After that long stare, he slightly shook his head, a small, vicious smile graced his features and he said to her, "You just made it so much worse for yourself." Lisbeth expected to be hurt after that statement, but he did nothing to her, just let her be and went to bed.

She spent the night with a racing mind what he could have meant by that.

---

Plots, plots, plots. Where will it all lead?

Let's see.

As always, reviews, PMs, comments, gift cards, flowers... whatever kind of interaction you deign to give me, dear readers, is much appreciated!

Stay safe.

Love,
Shâtî