Dear readers,

I thought December would be a good time to gift you a new chapter. Consider it my Christmas present to you!
I hope all of you are doing well and can have a beautiful, white Christmas and a great new year!

The past weeks certainly have made me enormously happy, and hence, propelled my creativity upwards, as I finally found a new job and it is actually one as a professional writer. It is just a small thing, but to be able to also write while making some coin with it, makes me really proud and happy.

And, to make this clear once and for all: unlike a certain author who has double-monetised his books through a popular series, I will finish this story, even though I take a long time with the chapters. So, stop fearing that the story won't continue, it will. And it will finish, but in its own time. :-*

Of course, since the waiting period was still quite long, I will take the time to respond to your reviews thoroughly.

Ronmr: It is always good to be back! Glad that you see it that way, I am honoured.
desaira: YOU IZ MUCKIN ABOUT. I PUTZ THA SNOTLINGZ IN THA TELLYPORTA. THEM IZ TOO LOUD.
Grocamol: Thank you! Glad that you still like the story!
bobshady: Thank you so much! I am happy that I could make Vlokarion's gruesome work beautiful to behold, because that was just the way I had it in mind.
Avid reader: Thihi. I love the expression "always never a bore". Gotta remember that!
bigwoof: Thank you, my dear friend! Yes, sadly, the lamppost has to wait until the Parody. :D And thank you for your wonderful ideas, once more!

Again, huge thanks to SindelV, who is still my loyal and awesome beta. Without you, it would not be this good and possible. I just love your ideas.

And, again, all the thanks in the world to all of you, my dear readers, though I torment you so with my enormously long updating times! And yes, the fight scene in the last chapter is still missing, hubby is not feeling so good currently.

Also, don't forget that you can check out the uncensored version of Chapters 6, 8 and 16 on AO3! Please leave a Kudos there if you take a look-see!

And, als always, I hope you enjoy it!

Love,
Shâtî

Chapter 20

Carnival of Death - Into the Thick of it

"Every weapon your prey wields can be turned against them,

given sufficient application of wit."
— Archon Drekarth X'uskul

WAKING UP WAS incredibly hard this time. It felt like I had to push with my consciousness through some kind of sticky ooze, which tried with every move to keep me locked in. I had no idea how long I was lying there, fighting hard for my senses.

As I finally regained them, I was drenched in sweat and panting, as if I just had finished my training with Hesperax. I blinked several times and slowly moved my head, to shake this annoying torpor off, and distressingly slowly, the numbness left my body and I could think clearly again.

I sat up and looked around. I was in a completely blank and dark room - once more, Vlokarion had done right unto me - and it was made completely out of metal. Well, room was not the right description for it. It rather was a corridor, barely wide enough for me to lie in the curled-up position I had awoken in. I figured it was done like this for competitors who had not been smart enough to invest in darkvision… or had someone who thought of it for them.

I got up, world spinning once more, and took a second to stabilise. Though my head still took its time with clearing up completely, I pushed myself. No time to waste. Forcefully grunting some more blood into my head, I moved along the corridor. If I had not seen, it would have been possible for me to grope my way out of this metal corridor…

…but I would have missed something.

Overhead I saw a closed hatch, which I would have missed if I had not been able to see in here. This surely was no coincidence. I anchored myself between the walls and made the short climb up to the hatch. I was not surprised as it opened easily and inside, I found a small, filled backpack. I took it out and climbed down again, heart pounding nervously, as I was curious what I would find inside.

With slightly shaking hands I opened it and carefully reached inside. I pulled out some rations, consisting of the usual paste I already knew, packaged in translucent tubes and a medical kit. Both things were really useful, but I still missed my daggers. I looked up to the now opened hatch again and thought for a second. Then I sighed. It was barely big enough to crawl inside and I was pretty sure that someone around here had caught up on my mild claustrophobia. But nothing was ever easy in Commorragh, and most certainly not for a slave.

Therefore, I climbed up again, and this time, I shoved myself into the duct. It was harder than I had imagined. Breathing got hard pretty quickly, as the narrow tunnel was barely wide enough for me to fit in, and my used air had nowhere to escape to. I was drenched in sweat in no time, and just hoped that I was right with what I guessed and not subjected myself to this torment for nothing. I knew what it felt like to suffocate, and if I gave up, I was sure that I would die in here before I had even begun being a competitor in the Carnival.

This was not an option. I had not come so far only to give in to a little claustrophobia.

So, I fought through it, wheezing, sweating, heart pounding and with a cold, cold feeling in my stomach, the fear making every movement a fight I almost lost. I let out a strained, yet triumphant sound as my right hand finally grasped another package. I drew it to me and reached beyond it, just to be extra sure that I had not missed anything, and only was satisfied as my palm pounded against the back wall of the duct several times and in different places.

Feeling dizzy and barely keeping my movement in check to not make it an uncoordinated mess, I shoved myself back again. Stars were dancing in front of my eyes. This was no good. I was about to faint. I used every ounce of my willpower to push against the panic that wanted to engulf me.

Not like this.

I was better than this.

I wanted to see Lisbeth and my master again!

Crying out, I put in one last effort and fought for air the second my head was out of the duct. Since I forgot to coordinate anything of my body but my breathing, I fell ungainly onto the floor and enjoyed taking some breaths of unused air. Then, I opened the package.

"Yes!" I hissed triumphantly, as I found, for one, my daggers in the small box. Then I grasped something soft made out of a sleek material, and drew it out of the box. It unfolded itself into a bodyglove. I almost had missed it even with my advanced vision, because it was a special kind of darkness in darkness.

No doubt this was a stealth suit.

What the hell? Whose courtesy was that? Or… was it a trap?

I quickly, yet thoroughly, scanned my memories about the rules of the Carnival, but found none against what I now held in my hands. Oh, it really would come in handy.

Before I slipped it on, I touched the back of my left shoulder. I only now realised that the spot had been burning for quite a while. Had I scratched it while I had been shoving myself through the tunnel?

I looked at my fingers, but found no blood. I shrugged. Maybe it was just some irritated skin.

Then, I slipped into the suit, still with a raging mind about who could have forwarded this gem to me – there were quite some candidates, I had to admit - and found that the suit had two sheaths for the daggers at the sides of my thighs, their placement perfect not to hinder my movement. Of course, the suit fitted me perfectly, but I had not expected anything else.

It was weird being enclosed completely in this vantablack material, but it felt great on my skin, as a matter of fact, it felt like a second skin, as if I wore nothing at all. It was utterly breathable. My head was also enclosed completely, but the suit fitted me even there perfectly, as my face was enclosed in a stiff mask that clung to my face. There was material to easily breathe through before my nostrils and mouth, before my eyes were openings covered with some hard, translucent material and at the top of my head the suit had a hole, where I could put my hair through. Beneath my feet I had some slim soles, protecting my feet against sharp surfaces, but giving me perfect tactile sense of the ground I was walking on.

A masterpiece.

Well, the people with the best connections had my back, so what had I expected?

I took one last, deep breath, shouldered the backpack and then went towards the exit. It was a heavy, metal door, fitting the style of the corridor. My heart beat faster the closer I came and I swallowed, even though my mouth was dry. My hands were shaking.
All the preparation, all the desperation, all the training, all the pain… it had brought me to this very moment. The moment, in which everything I had learnt would be needed. The moment, in which mere simulation became reality.

The moment it all mattered.

Inhaling deeply and giving myself a push, I opened the double gate.

I needed to give it quite a powerful shove to get it open. The wings then swung aside without making a sound.

"My god," I breathed.

I looked upon a killing field.

There could have been no battle. Bodies were strewn across the small square I was looking at, blood, gore and excrement splattered everywhere. From what I could see, the unfortunate slaves that lay here, had been torn apart by something… big. Not only were the bodies fouled up beyond all recognition, I also could see claw and bite marks on walls and floor.

Even though I was considerably more jaded than a year ago, I still felt sick. I had never witnessed such carnage from this up close before. I fought the queasiness down as hard as I could, there was no time for that now.

What made it all worse, was the fact that I saw some other containers, similar to the one I had woken up in, around here, all opened and also drenched in blood and gore, which meant that those that had died here, had been competitors.

Why was I late again? Did I get to play in hard mode immediately?

"If you dare to dawdle, things will get... complicated for you."

The words of my master echoed like a baleful song in my head.

Shit.

It seemed as if I immediately started with the 'complicated' part.

Cursing on the inside, I started to move. The environment beyond the square would make it easy; the Sprawls were war-torn, shattered ruins, providing a lot of shelter and small spaces, but also a lot of obstacles. However, with my stealth suit, I would have it quite easy to hide.

So, I advanced, around the square, hiding behind debris, looking around, heart beating fast. Nothing so far.

Beltis had trained us well, I knew where to look for cover, how to move, how to use every shadow to my advantage. Though the kind of movement I used right now was not the fastest, it was the safest, and considering that I probably was in deep right now, it was the wiser choice, even though I knew I needed to hurry up. However, being quick and dead would not help me at all.

The smell made concentrating quite hard too.

Even though I was used to the smell of blood and spilt intestines by now, I never had perceived half-rotten innards and excrement with my new senses so up close. I retched more than once, fighting down bile and breathing flatly, as the stench of death engulfed me. I needed to get out of here before I really threw up.

I worked my way around the left side of the square, and found that one bigger road was crossing my way to the safety of the ruins. One last dangerous obstacle.

I had not even realised before that I had senses this sharp, as I rather felt some movement to my right than I saw or heard it. It was like the tingling of imminent danger, without seeing it coming, the compression of darkness, the hint of a warning, the feeling that made your hackles rise. And I knew: something was lurking in the shadows over there. Even though I strained my senses, I could not perceive it otherwise, I just.. knew… that it was there.

I hesitated. Should I try and run for the other side or should I rather hide?

I decided to go for it.

I bolted out of my cover.

As I was quite in the middle of the road, I heard sniffing and a low growl from where I had sensed this something. Then the sound of big paws falling into a gallop. Wet breathing. It caught up to me easily. Then a jump.

I lunged forward into a dive roll, feeling that the creature missed me by centimetres. I felt the puff of air its body hit me with as it flew past me. It had to be enormous. I did not even look, but kept on dashing, as fast as I could, ducking low.

Gigantic claws were scraping over the stony floor behind me as the beast tried to change directions. I did not even draw my daggers. It just sounded too big to fight. I just ran, rapidly changing directions, using all my speed to reach those contorted ruins. Though it was just some metres, it felt like hours. The scratching behind me stopped. Then more gallop towards me. I saw a small gap, in which I hoped the beast would not reach. I had almost missed it, but somehow it still had caught my eye. It was my only chance.

Putting all the strength I could muster into a desperate lunge, I leapt into the narrow gap I had seen. I landed quite hard on my side. Luckily, I had landed in some kind of oily fluid, which made me slide some more, dampening the impact. I slid towards a pipe I could fit in. I did not think, but used my momentum and struggled into the pipe. The frustrated yowl I heard behind me assured me that I had done the right thing. Only as I my way was accompanied by desperate howling and no more movement behind me, I dared to look.

I wished I had not.

The monster that now stared at me looked like the vicious, reptilian brethren of a sabre-tooth tiger. Six completely black eyes, set in a long, slender, utahraptorian head covered with dull, black scales stared at me, while a big maw with two enormous, prominent fangs and a cluster of pointed teeth growled at me. I quickly started crawling again as I realised that the saliva the monster spewed into the pipe started to sizzle on the metal - most likely some kind of strong acid. The beast proved its intelligence as it tried to reach me with one of its claws - each one set on a paw with four digits, long and sharp as curved knives.

I did not stay to find out whether it still found some kind of way to reach me.

The floor of the pipe I was in, was still covered with this oily fluid. I was glad that the suit was between me and the oil, as I had no idea whether it was toxic or corrosive. It was strangely odourless, for which I was grateful, as my nose and stomach just so recovered from the stench of the dead.

As I crawled along, the noises of the beast slowly fading away behind me, I remembered what Hesperax had said. That the Black Heart sent their slaves in to entertain and to die. Would this really be my fate? Granted, I barely had made it out of this situation and I guessed that it had been quite delicious for the viewers. But I had already outdone myself and I had the strange feeling that I would do so again. However, what if the game was rigged from the start? What if I could not win, no matter how well I did and how hard I tried?

No.

I shook the thought off. This would get me nowhere. I needed my attention here, not lost in thoughts about what might be and what could have been.

I would try, no, do this with all my strength. I would come back to Lisbeth. I would come back to my master.

That I owed the three of us.

The messenger never knew what hit her. A dagger, expertly wielded, slashed her throat, making her soul leave her body with a wet sigh and a fountain of blood. Normally, he would have enjoyed the bloody rain and drunk the still warm, aromatic fluid, but right now was not the time for such lengthy pleasantries.

He was in trouble.

Archon Pachu'a Masara Vyras sighed.

It had all gone so well. He was dead sure that Vect had been none the wiser, Malys had made sure that he got distracted, the Overlord's attention focused on the disputed, ticking time bomb in his cellar, Khaine's Gate.

Had she betrayed him?

No.

There was no sense in that. She wanted to stop the Overlord as much as he wanted it, which was why they had agreed to work together in the first place. But, somewhere, something had gone wrong. Nuscul had snitched to Zuol about him framing the old warrior. But how had he gotten this information? It surely had been too well hidden for that joker to discover.

No matter.

It all had gone awry. His last hope was that the bounty hunter would pull through and finish the girl off before she made it out of the Carnival. There was not much time for any of them to react, so there was a chance of success for that. Alas, it was a slim one.

Vyras shook his head. Hope. What had it come to that he had to rely on that childish notion? He had to act quickly if he wanted a chance to save his head. The messenger he just had killed had just confirmed his dire suspicions. Now there was only one way out for him. If he was quick enough with getting to her, Malys could help him out of the city. It was his only chance.

He scoffed. It was ironic that this travesty and the lack of backup plans was happening to him, of all people! Someone had played him, and expertly so, but gnashing his teeth about it would change nothing.

No, cold composure was his game and he would see it through to the end. Commorragh would never see his unrestrained side. He was the iciest Archon in this city and he would make sure that it stayed that way.

As he fetched the last piece of his weaponry, he heard the distant sound of fighting outside. He bared his fangs in silent defiance and then sighed.

Here came Vect's hounds.

My journey had been too quiet so far. I had wandered the ruins of the Sprawls, heading in a general downward direction. The deeper I went, the darker it got. Between the burnt-out buildings, which looked like sharp teeth against the bloody sky, the crimson light barely reached. I had seen broken towers, probably once as mighty as the spires of High Commorragh, had traversed the feet of enormous statues, which now lay shattered and had darted over broad, once splendorous boulevards, now littered with debris. In the distance, below me, I had seen several sources of faint, bluish light, and had figured that those were markers for the safe zones. I was not sure whether I would have noticed them with my normal vision. My enhanced senses, however, picked the light up easily. I currently was heading towards the closest. The air was ripe with the smell of death and decay, but so far, I had not encountered another massacre or even another competitor.

I was wary.

So far, this had been far too easy. I knew I was late and I had figured that the monster I had encountered back then had only been a preview of the things that would hunt me down. Nonetheless, nothing had.

I had wondered back in training why building up stamina had been such an enormously profound part of it, now I understood why. Sneaking, having your senses peeled and expecting to fight every second for several hours needed a tremendous amount of stamina. My heart rate was constantly severely elevated, whilst I kept my breathing flat, which only added to the physical strain. There was nothing I could do about it, and tensing muscles up for a sneaky stance for such a long time required enormous strength. I was at the limit of my body and mind and I knew that if I did not rest up a bit soon, that it would impact my performance in a likely battle.

As the blue light indicated, and hoping I was right with my guess, it was not far anymore.

My way now led me to a bigger square. I loathed crossing such an enormous open space and was currently crouching behind a bigger boulder of rubble, looking for ways around. However, I realised soon that the ruins around the site were unscalable, the walls around it fused together to sheer, blank surfaces.

It all reeked of a trap.

I observed the square closer. The mosaic stone it had been made of, was scattered everywhere, making for a pretty roughed up surface and easy to trip on. Also, something about the warping pattern of the floor seemed… off. I could not put my finger on it, but I had the inherent feeling that...

Movement to my right.

Somebody else was here.

I subliminally ducked a little bit more into my hiding spot, submerging myself completely in darkness. The smallish figure I now observed appeared and vanished between the big boulders, but not because it tried to hide. My field of view simply was not better. It strolled towards the square, gait somewhat stumbling and shambling.

I breathed very flatly and watched what transpired further. The figure came quite close to my hiding place and I recognised her.

Josmina.

She seemed to be physically unscathed, as far as I could tell, but she was just in her training clothes, at which something had torn, because her bustier barely held together, revealing a big part of one of her breasts. She had no gear on her whatsoever, and something seemed to be wrong with her, judging from the way she moved, even though I did not see any injuries. She would be an easy target and would make for good practice.

Then again, maybe I could use her to find out what was wrong with the site…

I was in a pickle. If there was nothing there, then she might be able to reach the safepoint before me and that I could not have.

As she reached the edge of the square, she halted. I saw that she was slightly swaying. I had no idea what she had encountered so far, of course, but it had been something serious, as she seemed to be not in complete control of her senses. Then again, when had she been? It could also very well be that Thyndrak additionally had poisoned her the night before, to watch her die in an entertaining manner.

I frowned deeply as Josmina suddenly laughed. It was a short, innocent laugh, like the one of a girl playing with her friends in the yard. The purity of it shook me to the core.

Then, she started to walk into the open space. I readied myself to lunge at her when the opportunity presented itself and no trap was sprung.

The half-naked girl tumbled over the enormous open space, her smallish frame seeming even smaller. The crimson light reached a bit more down into the depths in this wide space, bathing her in the light. I watched as she walked, unhindered, almost looking like a child-like ghost amongst the harshness of the surrounding ruins. It was somehow a calming and mesmerising view.

I shook it off. She had almost crossed one quarter of the square. I had to take her out.

Noting my lack of emotions on the side, but too much pressure on me right now to truly grasp it, I dove in deep, running silently after her, daggers flashing.

I almost got her. I coiled up for the lethal jump.

A soft clicking noise.

And the world in front of me exploded.

A minefield.

Josmina got torn to pieces before my very eyes by a flash of barbs and wires that bolted out beneath her, her life ending in an explosion of body parts, like a fountain of blood, flesh and bone… and I got showered in what was left of her.

Luckily for me, there was no blastwave. Nonetheless, the sheer shock made me tumble backwards, as I was covered in blood, wet, warm pieces of organs and flesh, pieces of bone (which luckily had not punctured me) and other things I could not name. I fell, breathing heavily, fighting against the instantaneous nausea. I lost. I ripped the mask off my face, turned to the side and threw up.

I crouched there, retching and coughing, slowly realising what just had happened. Never before had I seen someone getting ripped apart so abruptly and so violently. Being covered in that person's remains was also a new horror. Though I still felt somehow numb, I was shaking. At least it had been quick, right? In fact, so quick, that she did not even have time to scream.

It did not help to dissuade the notion that this could have been me.

I took stuttering breaths and whimpered while taking them. And there I thought that I had been so well-prepared. What a stupid notion! Nothing could have prepared me for a near-death experience like this. Oh, I almost had died around here, yes, but it had been… different. Seeing a life ripped apart so quickly in front of one's eyes and sharing what was left of them…

I retched once more, but it was senseless, nothing came out.

I was shaking. I was out of control.

Look up!

The thought flashed so hard through me that I actually lifted my gaze and what I saw made me gasp.

Suddenly, around the square, dozens of figures had emerged. Some were shambling towards me, like zombies, others crawled on all four. I heard hissing and moaning sounds. The figures were spindly, pale humanoids, only shreds of thin hair left on them, their bodies gaunt and their faces sunken in. Bloodlust glowed in their black eyes, the bone had broken through the tips of their fingers, giving them curved claws.

The Parched.

Indeed, I was late.

Get up!

That jolted me upwards. I grabbed my mask, put it on, recollected my daggers, jumped to my feet, the paralysis suddenly gone, and bolted for the blue light.

I remembered that in the millisecond before Josmina's death I had seen the patterns the mines drew on the square. Adrenaline surely was one hell of a drug. My perception was impeccable.

And my dexterity was too.

Though I was running as fast as I could, as the Parched now started running towards me, also showing me that those that galloped on all four were terribly fast, I managed to avoid the mines.

They came from all sides.

I passed the square, diving back into the maze of the ruins. Rattling sounds behind me confirmed that at least some of my hunters found a sudden death, but they also awaited me on the far side of the square. I dodged through them, hacking at their reaching claws with my daggers. I dismembered some, terrible screeches following me. I grunted in pain as some managed to scratch me at my waist and thigh. Their curved claws dug deep. I bit through the pain and kept on running, though I could hear their rattling breaths and quick steps.

Then, I saw the pillar of blue light in front of me.

Whipping myself once more to higher speed, I dashed towards it.

If I was wrong, I would die here.

I saw an entrance. I ran for it. A moving shadow to my left. I ducked just in the right second as it darted towards me. I managed to have the Parched rolling off my back, hitting the floor beside me with a soft thud.

Then, the entrance.

I jumped for it, landing in a dive roll, daggers swirling, ready to fight. With a swishing sound, the barrier closed behind me and the former translucent pillar became opaque, enclosing me in it.

The Parched outside howled in disappointment and I could hear them pounding and scratching against the walls.

Too close. This had been too close.

I breathed heavily, slowly allowing myself to relax. I sunk to the floor, panting, and put the daggers down. I needed to clean them before I sheathed them. Slowly, I realised the pain. My left side and thigh burned and I took a look, whimpering as I did. I had eight deep scratches there.

I looked around in the resting area and found to my great surprise and happiness that there was a small opening in the wall where water gurgled out. It seemed to be safe, but I would not let chance decide that. I put down my backpack, and after some short rummaging I found the indicator test I was looking for.

With shaking hands, hoping, I did the test, and hissed a triumphant "Yes!" as I found that the water was indeed clean.

I could not wait to get what was left of Josmina off of me.

Nuscul was in his element. It had been a while since he had fought his own kind and it was refreshing. It was not the mindless, easy slaughter he was used to from the raids, but an invigorating, sense-sharpening kind of combat, which let him breathe deep and fully enjoy himself. It was just the right amount of challenge, not too little that it was boring and not too much that it became a drag after a longer time.

Vyras had good soldiers, that much was clear, and it delighted him to show them their place. So far, he had only suffered some small nicks, which were a good stimulant for his senses.

Zuol was closing in from the other side, and they only left Vyras one way to run to: alone and into his personal hangar. They made it look like it was a mistake on their side, to drive him exactly there, otherwise the old snake would never take the bait.

Reminiscing on when they had planned that particular masterpiece had been a mistake. Nuscul was propelled out of his pondering by a hard hit to his waist, a blade biting into his flesh. Damn, they knew how to employ their numbers. And he just realised that he had gotten lost in the slaughter and drawn too much away from his own men. Being surrounded in a corridor was unfavourable… or was it?

Just. Perfect.

Laughing and drawing strength from his own suffering, he pushed against the blade, inserting it deeper into his side, drawing close enough to employ his own blades. The warrior never knew what hit him. One of his daggers slashed his throat. The second one burrowed itself into the side of the warrior to the right of the lucky hitter, numbing him instantly with potent toxins. Blood was raining down on him from the throat wound, Nuscul licked what hit him off his face. Just what he needed. The last months had been too tense. This fight made him breathe easily and relaxed him, his own pain, the agony around him, the showers of blood and exposed viscera were just too exhilarating.

Nuscul fell into a relaxing trance, the toing and froing of the fight gave him a good rhythm for it. Dancing through the rows of his enemies, dodging blows, dealing lethal wounds made him unwind like nothing else. It reminded him of his days in the Crucibael, only that now he had reached an echelon of fighting skill that cancelled the need to fear for his life. He simply did not have to, though he was wounded himself. But that was how a good battle had to go.

As he emerged from his battle-trance, he breathed deeply and looked around. Ah, carnage! How he loved it! He had made his way through the corridor in which his enemies had thought to have him locked in. The outcome was that he had left a trail of bodies behind him, and now stood in front of the door to Vyras's chambers. His lifeguard scuttled behind him and one of them asked, "My lord, are you alright?"

Nuscul sighed and took another deep breath. "Yes, I am. Those scratches are nothing." Looking over the shoulder of the Kabalite that had just spoken to him, he saw one of Vyras's warriors trying to get away. With perfect style he threw one of his daggers after him and hit him right into the neck, pinning him onto the floor.

"Sloppy," he commented towards his lifeguard, who all winced, "now get my dagger!" The warrior did as bidden immediately.

Nuscul pushed the door open, only to find the quarters empty except for the dead body of a slave which had been recently killed. Nuscul stepped over the body and went into another room, where he knew the secret door to Vyras's personal flight deck was. The door was left open, apparently Vyras had left in a hurry. In the same second one of his spies reported that Vyras had left Corespur in his personal flyer. Just as planned.

The warrior handed him his dagger and as he did, Zuol also came in with his Incubi in tow. Nuscul had to admit with a slight feeling of jealousy that the other Archon did not even have a scratch. Damn, half-baked Incubus.

Zuol grinned as he beheld the wounded Nuscul, and commented, "Made a mistake, did we?"

Nuscul returned the grin and said, "No, I am simply not hiding behind heavy armour and like to feel the combat." He was known to go into battle only adorned with a bodyglove and some minimal armour in critical places. He needed to be utterly flexible.

Zuol scoffed, but deigned not to comment on that. Changing the subject, he said, "I take it that it is working?"

Nuscul nodded. "He took the bait. He is running to her."

Zuol chuckled. "This is going to be good," he said mockingly.

The break certainly had been good for me. The cuts on my side had almost vanished, and I had been able to nap a bit, replenishing my strength. The pounding of the Parched had made relaxing rather hard, but I had managed somewhat. Also, I did not dare to stay for too long, as I still had quite some catching up to do if my estimations were correct. It was hard to tell whether I was correct at all, considering I did not know how much time had passed before I had started racing, but I felt uneasy in that regard.

Therefore, after napping and grabbing a bite, I left the resting area and ventured on, deeper into the Sprawls.

The labyrinth of the ruins got more claustrophobic the deeper I went. Where broad squares and boulevards had dominated in the first place, now narrow streets and tunnels guided my way. Though it made hiding easier and did not force me to run over vast, open spaces, it made me uneasy. If I should encounter an enemy here, I would have little opportunity to avoid them if I figured that they were too strong for me.

Also, there was an armada of traps to be found. Nasty contraptions all over, ranging from classic traps like tripwires connected to poisoned needles and spiked pits to sophisticated traps with poison gas and barbwire spring traps, activated by barely-seeable laser barriers and deviously hidden pressure plates.

Then, I came to another tunnel, which I had found no way around. I always tried to avoid tunnels, for if I stepped into a trap, dodging them would be a hell of a lot harder in there. But this one I had to go through, as it seemed.

I stepped carefully into it, scanning the surface of the tunnel for any traps. So far, my enhanced senses had prevented me from stepping into traps and I trusted that it would be so again here. Complete darkness engulfed me, as the crimson light was blocked out in here, and my darkvision guided me.

After a few minutes, I came to a straight part of the tunnel, and what I saw there made me gasp in horror.

I looked at a forest of blades, arranged so that getting through them without injuring myself was impossible. As I inspected them closer, I saw that they were mounted on hinges in the walls. "Oh, no…" I breathed as I realised what that meant. It was simple and cruel. I would have to push the blades aside with my body weight, and I would cut myself when doing so. It was a game designed to hurt and there was no way around it. I had to make sure that I kept my hands and face intact and did not sever any important sinews, as those would not heal so quickly again.

For a moment, I pondered whether I should go back and search for another way. Then I shook my head at my own naiveté. The Carnival was designed to injure and hurt, what was I thinking? That I could avoid suffering? Laughable! I knew better than that!

Therefore, I took off my suit, as I did not want to ruin it unnecessarily and put it into my backpack. Then, I decided to push with my left side against the blades, shielding my head with my arm. I quickly found that the blades were sharp - but not so sharp that they cut my flesh like butter, as this would have been inevitably fatal. No, they were just as sharp that they gnawed at my flesh, tearing the nasty wounds of blunt blades, which were jagged things that hurt even more than a clean cut.

I gritted my teeth, determined not to make a sound, as they started cutting me. My teeth-gritting soon turned to pain-wrecked grunts. I had wanted to stand it calmly, without tears, but I quickly found that the blades were arranged so that they drew new cuts with each instance of the game, and also lightly pierced old wounds.

At some point, I could not take it without screaming and crying.

Not much of a stealth attempt. But it was impossible to stand it silently.

I even longed for a sharp, clear cut as I could see the end, not this blunt tearing and nagging at my flesh. My blood ran down on me in streams, soaking my bra and pants. I just stumbled forward, pushed against the blades, pain and desperation. All in all, this passage was only about ten metres long, but it were the longest ten metres I had ever walked.

Finally, I made it through and just fell to my knees, screaming out as I tore my wounds with that, but no longer did I have the strength to remain standing.

I crouched there, crying, sobbing, shaking, the floor beneath me tinted in crimson, before my blood slowly started to clot. I felt dizzy, as I had lost a significant amount of blood, but I pressed my breathing to push what was left of it into my head. I was crouching on a small square and fainting here surely was a death sentence. Slowly, I stopped to bleed and the pain dimmed down to a manageable throbbing.

In an instant, my senses focused as I heard footsteps in front of me.

I looked up and saw a male contestant standing in front of me. He also was littered with cuts, which showed that he had taken the same way as me, but his wounds were not as fresh as mine. I gulped as I saw that he held a composite bow in his hand, on which he had nocked a nasty looking arrow with a barbed head.

This was it. There was no way in hell I would dodge that, not in the state I was in. Was this really the way I went out? Killed by a cheater? The irony was killing me.

He hesitated.

Suddenly, a shot rang and the head of the man exploded like an overripe watermelon. The pieces of his head splattered to the ground around him, luckily, this time, they missed me, even though the wet sound made me sick. Bow and arrow dropped useless to the ground and his body remained standing for a second, as if it had to accept the fact that its head was gone. Then, with a fleshy thud, it too dropped to the floor.

I did not have the strength to really feel sick. I was too dizzy and too spent to even muster an appropriate emotion.

My eyes widened as out of nowhere a shadowy figure dropped down next to the corpse, gathered up the bow and quiver the man had had, and left again, climbing to the top of the tunnel. All of this the figure had done without producing a single sound, not even my enhanced senses had been able to pick something up.

This had to be one of the bounty hunters. And he surely had saved my life.

I took the chance I was given, crawled behind some rubble to no longer kneel in the open and caught my breath there.

This had been far too close.

Anticipation tinted with malicious glee filled the viewing area. Most of the Archons smiled satisfied as they saw the suffering of the contestant of the Black Heart on the enormous viewing screen. She surely was sweet to behold, struggling against the pain, but ultimately failing to stand against it. Of course, this game was designed to hurt badly, and it surprised nobody that such a young girl could not face it quietly.

But what really let the malicious glee explode in the room was the fact that she now kneeled in front of another contestant, about to be killed, even though the other one acted against the rules with a ranged weapon.

Though the Black Heart did not usually win the competition, her performance so far had been a good mixture of luck and skill, which made it entertaining to watch. That she should die so soon surely made some of Vect's enemies happy.

Great was the disappointment as one of the bounty hunters was there in time to take out the cheater, even though some rapt sighs were heard at the beautiful death of the boy.

Apparently, the girl got another shot at proving herself. The game remained afoot. This also had merit.

Archon Dhariaq Bladetongue of the Pierced Eye sighed. And it had been such a nice afternoon. A few hours of peace, was that so much to ask? Smiling, he stood up, produced a splinter pistol and without hesitation, turned around and shot another bystander in the room through the left eye.

The cheater had apparently been his slave and Bladetongue had known who had helped him cheat. That individual was now dealt with. After all, Vect's and Hesperax's wrath was not worth it.

After this short interlude, which left some people with a light soul-snack, the viewing continued and the body was carried away.

After a short while, I had gathered myself so much that I was sure I would be able to continue. I had scanned my surroundings avidly, to not fall for such a stupid ruse again. It was embarrassing enough as it was.

As I trusted my knees to carry my weight again, I sneaked over to the corpse. He had a backpack with him, and as things stood, I needed all the medical equipment I could get. I snatched the backpack, and decided to search it somewhere in good cover. Out here in the open it was a stupid idea.

As I was about to turn around, something on the corpse caught my eye. It was a tattoo on the left shoulder blade of the man. It was an abstraction of a Drukhari rune, but I was pretty sure that it was the rune for 'passage'. What did that mean? I suspected that the tattoo was not one he had had before the Carnival and also, it looked quite fresh. Black tattoos only looked so dark when freshly done. Something was nagging on my mind about that, a dot, I should be able to connect, but I still felt light-headed and my thoughts were blurred by pain and blood loss. Nonetheless, I made a mental note about it, as I had a weird feeling that it would prove useful to me at some point.

I yelped as something dripped onto me and left a nasty burning sensation on one of my wounds.

I looked up and gasped. Thick, black clouds had formed and it started to rain. Black rain. Acid rain.

Not wasting another second, I bolted away from the small square I was on, and into the safety of another burnt-out ruin. On my way there, I gasped and yipped, as some raindrops fell on me and burned my skin. I only barely managed to dodge under a broken roof that gave me just enough shelter to take cover from the main rain shower.

The next near-death experience.

And I already felt jaded about it.

However, I was not sure whether this was a good thing…

Vyras had not expected this level of cooperation. That Zuol would actually team up with Nuscul against him was something he had not anticipated.

Stupid.

His forces were as good as lost, they could not stand against the combined might of the other two armies. Not that it mattered, now that it all had gone down the drain. They were dispensable. His life was not.

All he had been able to do was to sneak out on one of the numerous, hidden pathways he had installed in his demesne a long time ago, had taken a flyer and had fled.

Even though the situation was dire, he smiled to himself. His escape had apparently not been noticed, because he only had to go through the normal security measures of Corespur and he did not get halted there too.

"Sloppy, Asdrubael," he chuckled to himself. It seemed as if the Overlord had calculated with him getting easily caught, because two Archons were after him and he had not yet put out the message to his security forces that Vyras was not to leave Corespur.

However, the old spymaster was still careful. He made his way around the city seemingly aimlessly, to confuse would-be hunters and then hid in a certain spot he had scouted out a long time ago, in case he ever had to flee by himself.

There, he set up a connection on a secret channel only he and Malys knew about, to make it safe for them to communicate.

It did not take long until she picked up. "What do you want? I'm busy," she snarled.

"I got busted," Vyras replied calmly.

"You fucking idiot! I told you that bounty hunter was a stupid idea!" she hissed, "Don't you dare come here! I can't have Asdrubael snooping around in my region."

"Oh, but I will come to you, Aurelia. And you will help me escape out of the city," Vyras said, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"And why will I do that?" she asked, mocking his inflexion.

"Because if you refuse, I will tell Vect all about your involvement and other plans, in details, you wouldn't want him to know," he replied.

"If he catches you, you will sing anyway. You have to do better than that, Pachu'a," Malys retorted.

"Oh, but I might forget about the compartmentalisation and deletion mechanisms implanted in my head, which protect certain secrets," Vyras smirked. It was a shame that only small portions could be cut off this way, and he had filled them with information he was sure the Overlord knew little or nothing about, to delete them the second he got caught. Alas, the rest would be for Vect's taking. If one overdid it with those artificial mechanisms, insanity was ensured. Most Haemonculi were known for this kind of madness, as they lived off their secrets, but the most prominent non-Haemonculus example for it was Archon Thyndrak. She had been ever-paranoid that anybody else could learn the secrets of her Kabal and had her mind parted too often. Now she had few sane moments, slowing the development of her Kabal down. Nonetheless, they seemed to be occurring often enough that dethroning her was impossible. However, this level of insanity was something Vyras simply had not been able to afford in his former position.

"Fine," Malys growled, the annoyance clear in her voice, "come here. And make sure you are not followed!"

"My dear, I have shaken off pursuers before you were able to walk," Vyras sighed.

"Yes, we can all see how well that experience has served you," Malys snapped and severed the connection.

Vyras sighed. She could be a handful and he still wondered why the hell Vect had ever been interested in her. She was sharp, yes, but her personality was pretty annoying.

Vyras took some detours on his way to the Poisoned Tongue. He still had to assume, even though there was no sign of it, that the Overlord had some kind of surveillance on him and if he showed his connections too directly and had Malys uncovered too, he would lose his only way out of Commorragh.

Vyras despised the situation he was in, but there was nothing he could do. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a small voice still whispered to him that there was something he had overseen, that the tyrant held an ace he did not know about, but he ignored it resolutely. That was what Vect was best at: making everybody around him believe that he was infallible, keeping people so scared with it that they did not dare to make one forbidden move, always assuming that Vect would somehow know.

Vyras had been Vect's spymaster for millenia and understood that often enough the tyrant was not entirely aware of all the machinations. Often enough, things just fell into his hands or other people forwarded names of traitors, to make themselves look good in front of the tyrant, trying to harbour favour with him.

Yes, Vect surely had built up a very good, tight net in this city, and his most important tool and weapon was fear. Even the mightiest Archon feared Vect, perfectly aware that the Overlord held the biggest military power in the city and that he could crush them all like flies if it pleased him. And this fear worked far more for him than an armada of spies could.

But it did not work on Vyras.

He knew better.

The Archon steered his flyer into the belly of the Poisoned Tongue's spire, on the bottom, to not attract unnecessary attention. To his relief, he was let in without any kind of problems. It seemed as if Malys kept her word.

A bit, but not entirely relaxed, he climbed out of the flyer, and was greeted by an honour guard, as it was custom between allied Archons. Malys and him had exchanged some Kabalites a while ago, which would function as their honour guard in the other's demesne, as warriors of another Archon could not be trusted. But Vyras knew these Kabalites, they were those he had left in her tower.

Without further ado, he marched with them to her throne room; word had already been distributed that he was here and he was not hindered in any way, just the way it should be. Yes, this would work. He would be known as the first Archon that outwitted Vect himself!

Then, the doors of the throne room swung open, he marched in, head held high, bathed in his triumphant mood…

...only to have it shattered as he realised who was sitting on Malys's throne.

Asdrubael Vect.

The goddamn Supreme Overlord.

Vyras's blade sprung into his hand, he was ready to fight this out, and just as he did, he found that his honour guard had dropped dead behind him. Of course. They had been silenced and poisoned. An aerial two-component poison, if he had to guess. He lowered his sword. Fighting was not an option, especially because Nuscul and Zuol closed the trap with some warriors of their own behind him.

He had been played. So very, very played.

The Overlord started laughing. In fact, the whole room chimed in this laughter… except Malys, who stood beside her own throne, like a child that had been put into a corner for punishment, her jaw tense.

"You fucking bitch!" Vyras spat in her direction, "You ratted me out! I should have known that you are still his stupid lapdog!" This was simply too much humiliation. He dropped some of his cold façade, there was no need to be polite towards her.

Vect stopped laughing in an instant and said, "My, my, Pachu'a, I am not used to such strong language from you! Unfortunately, I have to disappoint you. Malys here was quite loyal towards you. Of course, she was not loyal enough to not drop you like a hot coal once her hide was on the line. No, you brought this entirely on yourself."

"Very well. Then let's get this over with," Vyras said, drawing together all his composure, though he knew that it was over for him. Death was sure. There was nothing he could do about that anymore.

Vect laughed again, but this time, his laughter chimed menacingly alone. "Oh, please. I sincerely hope you are aware that this will not be over quickly." He gestured to Zuol and Nuscul. "Gentlemen, if you would be so kind. I want to get back to the only throne room that matters in Commorragh and not overstay my welcome in dear Lady Malys's demesne." Of course, it was clear that if he deigned to set up residence permanently in her throne room, that there was nothing she could do about it.

Vyras thought for a split-second about whether he should commit suicide. But if he failed in it, then his lengthy demise would be even worse. And Nuscul and Zuol were too close already and he knew that both were far quicker than him.

Therefore, he threw his weapons angrily on the floor and did not resist as he got shackled.

Vect got up, mockingly stroked Malys's cheek and sneered, "Thank you, my dear. It would have never been as fun without your help."

Malys took it breathtakingly well. She flashed an icy smile at Vect and gave back, "It was my genuine pleasure, Overlord." Her inflexion made clear that she meant the entire opposite.

"Oh, Aurelia, do not be so dramatic! Rather be glad that I do not mind you plotting against me. In fact, you did me a favour by using one of my Circle members for your little plans. Housekeeping is always such a nuisance, so nice of you to help me with it," Vect continued mocking her.

Malys shot him a stare that could kill, but said nothing else.

Vyras could not help but smile maliciously. At least, she also got her share of the fall and humiliation.

However, it was little consolation.

He was doomed and all that came next would just be pure suffering.

The rain had subsided, barely in time. I had curled up in my small corner of safety, vigilant not to touch the pools of acid that had formed around it. While waiting, I inspected the backpack and found some useful supplies. Unfortunately, it mattered little, as I had used the extra medical equipment I had found almost completely up already. Patching myself up after the ordeal I had gone through had been direly necessary, because even though I regenerated faster, it was by far not fast enough for this amount of injury.

Even though watching out for dripping acid had been taxing, the rain had also acted to my advantage, as other competitors sneaking up on me were unlikely. After I had patched myself up, I had donned the suit again and had tested whether it would protect me from the acid rain. I found that it did not, but then again, this would have been too easy.

Hence, I had to wait until the rain passed, which gave me time to rest and heal up a little. It certainly would make my next encounter with another competitor a lot easier. The pain was manageable after the break, not as tearing and nagging as before and if a bit more time passed until I had to fight again, it would even be impossible to exploit my injuries.

Therefore, I started sneaking deeper into the maze again as the acid was no longer falling from the skies. I had to hop around a lot, as pools of acid were to be found everywhere, since the ground was littered with holes and did not absorb the liquid. It was taxing and did not help with sneaking.

As I wandered deeper and deeper into the arena, I wondered whether I was on the right track. I remembered that my master had told me that the more direct ways to the goal needed skill and brains, and I was sure that I was using one of the shortest ways possible. Navigating was manageable, as the Ilmaea did not move in the sky, so it was possible to use them as a checkpoint for general direction. Time and again, though dangerous, I climbed a higher building to get a better overview of the situation, and in general, I was sure that I was going just where I had to. So far, I had not encountered anything that needed my brains, rather my senses, stamina and pain-tolerance had been tested so far. But who knew how big this arena really was and how long I had to walk still to get to that part?

I would see it, and there was no use in wondering about things I could know nothing about.

Fog had slowly moved in. At this point, I felt lucky that it seemed to be just regular fog. Normal weather phenomenons were something I had almost forgotten about. The fog made it easier to hide, but it also robbed me of my vision, which was bad, considering the amount of traps that were around here still. I had to be incredibly careful not to step into one.

After a while, I had the distinct feeling that I was shadowed by someone. I tried not to let it show that I felt it, but I planned my way accordingly, giving me more opportunities to look over my shoulder without making it too obvious. It seemed to me as if I saw movement at the corner of my eye, a figure moving just so far away that I could only see it vaguely behind the wall of fog that was surrounding me. It was very likely that it was another competitor, but so far, I had not found a good place for an ambush. The path I was currently sneaking down was rather narrow, with very rare opportunities to hide and look around. I did not like that at all. This was just too convenient. Had I missed someone, who now tried to get a good jump at me in a narrow space? If so, they would be in for a nasty surprise, because close-quarters combat was my speciality.

For a long time, I was forced to play this game. Then, the way forked in front of me. Both paths looked similarly narrow, so I could not extrapolate which would be more favourable for me. As far as I could see, also no traps were attached to each path, even though this was highly suspicious. But I did not have unlimited time, I had to keep moving. As I could not make out anything that could be better or worse for me, I chose the right path.

I knew I was fucked when a wall closed behind me. I had overseen something. Suddenly I felt dizzy. What was going on?

I decided to move forward, as I was sure that opening up that wall again would not work. The lightheadedness stayed and paired with a headache. My breath rang with echoes in my ears.

I jumped as I heard something behind me. It sounded like glass scratching over rough stone. I ducked into a small niche and looked around. My eyes grew wide as I did.

There was a figure behind me. But it was not a competitor. It was a... thing, which looked like it was made out of white polygon-shaped crystals. It seemed to glitch around, rapidly changing form and position. I had no idea what it was.

But I knew that if it got me, I was done.

I did not know why I thought so, but this thing triggered my deepest, instinctual fears and something in me screamed that I had to run, louder than any rational thought. I turned on my heels and started to sprint. The dizziness made it hard, and I rather tumbled forward than I ran straight. The narrowness of the corridor helped with that. I again looked over my shoulder. The thing closed in on me. I would not make it. I would die here. Getting torn to pieces. Dissolve. Cease to exist. Nothing would be left of me. Sheer adrenaline and panic kept me going. I was dashing along the path as fast as I could. My senses were overladen with fear.

Think!

I did not want to. I was not able to. I just wanted to run.

The panic that was holding me tightly made me stumble… and fall. I knew I needed to get up again. But I could not. The fear was making me feeble and uncoordinated. I did not think to get up. I just thought about getting away. And not leaving that horror out of my sight. I turned around and screamed, as I saw how close the thing was. I crawled backwards and cried, "No… no... please… not like this…" all strength gone, I fell to the ground. I covered my face with my arms, whimpering, as the thing had almost reached me. I could not bear looking at it. At my killer.

SNAP. OUT. OF. IT.

The thought flashed through me like a command I could not disobey. With it, I took a deep breath that hurt like hell, as my muscles were still tensed up from the panic.

Wait.

The figure had to have reached me by now! What the hell?

Trembling all over, I lowered my arms… and gasped. There was nothing there! Also the fog was gone. Had it all been just an illusion? A psychotropic drug?

Then I realised it.

The fog.

Something had been in it.

There never had been anybody th…

The thought disrupted, I rolled around as I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Not a second too early. With a terrible clank, a broadsword blade hit the stony floor at the spot where my neck just had been.

One thing could be said about the slave-girl - Temira she was called, he had to remember that, knowing the names of his slaves was so unusual: her timing was impeccable. The moment in which Pachu'a walked into Aurelia's throne room and realised what actually had been the case, got sweetened for him by Temira's fear of the psychotropic hallucination she was seeing. Her mind was rather creative with it, Vect had to admit. Managing malicious laughter had not felt so easy for a long time. Her overshooting panic and horror were entertaining and refreshing to feel, even though what was utterly overwhelming for her was just a small spark of emotion for him. It was nothing that would overtake him in the slightest, but it just made the moment so much sweeter. He had to keep from sighing with delight.

Mocking Pachu'a and Aurelia at the same time was delicious too. They both had it coming. His arrogant ex-spymaster had felt so safe, thinking he could outsmart him with the failsafes he had installed. Vect was aware that Pachu'a had his mind compartmentalised, and there was nothing that would extract those parts of knowledge, but it mattered little at this point. He would still have a lot of fun with him, because it did not happen too often that Archons of Pachua's stature were found guilty of treason. And he knew that his former spymaster was tough, both in mind and body. He would be entertaining for quite a while, until he allowed him to perish. Already a line of punishments was forming in his head and he thought it was time to try out a new toy he had longed to use for a long time publically on Pachu'a. It would serve as a warning example for the other Archons too and would dissuade any further attempts of treason - for a while.

As to Aurelia… he was used to her usual planning and plotting, it made things amusing, but her interference with Khaine's Gate had been simply too much and he needed to reprimand her like this. Not that it bothered him in the slightest. Putting her into her place was, after all, always delightful. She just made it so satisfying, because she was steaming and they both knew that she would not completely back down. Aurelia would learn from her mistakes and try it again differently, more subtly, and it would be diverting to search for her next attempt of undermining him. It was an eternal game with her, one he enjoyed as a light diversion, but nothing more.

Aaryn and Yevhen had done an excellent job in planning the whole ruse and finished the arduous work for him, just as they should. It went without saying that he would not reward or praise them for it, they had simply done what they were here for and Yevhen had barely drawn his head out of the noose with this agreeable plan. The cub had shown why he was in his Circle after all. Keeping his Circle on their toes was a necessary precaution, somebody that was not exceptionally sharp all the time had no place in it.

He had to keep from grinning too much because Aaryn and Yevhen were unaware of what their actual part in all this was and breaking those news to them would just make his day even better. Actually, he was glad that a treason of that size had happened, it would shake things up a little and would break the usual routine. Of course, he would not act like it, after all, he did not want to encourage his underlings too much. They would plot nonetheless. A little plotting and backstabbing was fine and standard, too much of it, even though it would prove to be entertaining, could be problematic in a way he did not want to deal with.

While he was conducting the scene for Vyras, he drank up what the girl made him feel in a small part in the back of his mind. This kind of feeding was actually something new, getting emotions fed so raw and directly even stimulated him a bit. Sorting them out made for a nice, small occupation for his constantly bored mind. Not that he cared about her panicking and crying, after all, she was a means to an end, but for the first time in what probably seemed like an eternity for someone else, the stream of emotions he tasted did more than barely just keep him going. It made him realise that the ancient human, which Temira was, had a different set and strength of emotions, of course, still nothing compared to an Eldar, but definitely more vibrant than the Imperials had. It was an interesting concept, on which he could build. It still did not make her more than just a quaint diversion from his usual ennui.

He and Vlokarion had outdone themselves. They had tried to get this kind of connection going before, but it always had ended in failure. They had never before been able to nuance how much of him invaded the subject, and his full presence was simply too much for a human mind to bear. Instant insanity was the outcome. Even when he had taken her body over, he had projected only a small part of himself into her; what he had become over the years was more than anyone else could shoulder, especially an individual of the lesser races.

He was also positive that Temira's particular mindset and biochemistry was perfect for it. The minds he had tried to use it on in the past had been just too narrow, and as soon as he had tried to invade them they had snapped, overwhelmed by his mere presence. He had observed that she felt it too, but by far not as strong. She felt physically cold and mentally numb after he had taken her over, which was quite a success compared to the previous experiments. What surely added to her good adjustment, was that Temira had already accepted him on another level, without ever even meeting him, which would be the next step on her way to total obedience. All that showed that the slow indoctrination process he had his doppelgänger use on her worked just fine.

Everything was moving along as planned. It was a feeling which he never grew tired of.

Now he just had to get her through the Carnival alive. And for that, that pesky Imperial she was now facing had to die. On to watching the fight then.

No, this is not a cakewalk for Temira. But she will kick more ass in the next chapter, I promise!
And what the hell is up with Lisbeth?
Also, I hope that with this I dissuaded the last doubter from thinking that Vect actually feels something for Temira. As I told you: it was all a well-laid plan. Mr. Overlord does not give a damn about anybody but himself.

As always, please leave a few words (or a longer review, whatever you like) on my work or write me a PM if you are too shy for public comments. I love discussing my work, Wh40k in general and other stuff!

Peace and love to you all. Stay safe.