And we're updating! I actually didn't know anyone was invested in this, but I got a request for an update, so here it is! This chapter doesn't cover any of the events shown in the comics, but rather focuses on why someone as prideful as Ogron would take orders, and so submissively at that. He's kneeling to Neruman in the comics, and that just doesn't feel like a very Ogron sort of thing to do, so here we're going to see why Ogron would bow to Neruman. And if you like it, please, please leave a review! It lets me know people like the story, and gets me motivated to write more.
Ogron stared up at the ceiling, absentmindedly wondering what time it was. What day it was. What month. He was afraid to wonder what year. He was fairly sure it had been at least a week since Neruman had freed him and his friends from Omega. Well, 'freed' was perhaps the wrong word to use. It implied they were now, well…free. In actuality, they hadn't been permitted to leave the stone chamber Neruman had left them in since their arrival in Neruman's lair, and had neither seen nor heard from their new master in that time either, their only assurance that he remembered they were in there being the shadows that appeared intermittently with trays of tasteless food, vanishing without saying a word. Ogron wasn't even sure if they could speak. If they could, they weren't talking to them.
'You should eat, y'know,' Anagan remarked, drawing Ogron's attention from the seventy-five cracks on the ceiling. He knew how many there were because he'd counted them. Nineteen times. His mind was far too active to lie in a cell and do nothing; he needed to do something soon, or he was going to go crazy.
He sighed, sitting up and turning to Anagan, who was eating the aforementioned tasteless food that had just been delivered.
'It'll help you get your strength back,' Anagan coaxed. Ogron picked irritably at the food, garnering a raised eyebrow from his friend. 'You're not eating, you're just making it smaller.'
Ogron sighed, flopping back onto the bed. 'Why did Neruman free us from Omega if he just wanted to lock us in here?' he groused.
'Maybe he just doesn't have anything he wants us to do yet,' Anagan offered.
Gantlos nodded in agreement. 'I'm not sure we should be hoping for a task, Ogron. We're pretty safe down here. Any mission Neruman might send us on is likely to wind up with us fighting the Winx, and we're not exactly at full strength.' He stretched his hands out, summoning weak seismic waves that barely managed to ruffle Ogron's hair in the breath of a breeze created. 'The Winx would wipe the floor with us.' Ogron had to admit that Gantlos had a point; they weren't exactly the formidable wizards that had been able to defeat those fairies without breaking a sweat. He scowled at the knowledge of his own weakness, unable to keep from remembering the number of times they'd had the Winx defeated at their feet, and he'd just arrogantly left them, so obnoxiously confident in their own prowess that it had never once occurred to him that a group of barely-graduated fairies could so much as scratch him. He'd never imagined they'd have the power to overcome a convergence spell fuelled by the magic of the Abyss.
He shook his head; he didn't want his mind going back there. Those memories only led to his time in ice, and that…that was far too awful to think about. He wondered if he was mentally scarred by the experience. Probably. Not that he could do anything about that. He'd just deal with it the same way he dealt with all his other trauma: force it into a dark void in the back of his mind where it could only escape through his nightmares.
He bolted upright as the door to the cell creaked open, roughly a dozen shadows pouring in through the opening, forming into nightmarish beings with horns and glowing orange eyes. Eyes that were focused on Ogron and his friends for the first time.
'The master commands your presence.' Ogron just stared for a moment upon hearing the gravelly voice emanating from the shadows. He couldn't tell which was speaking; it was as though the words came from them all at the same time. However, he quickly snapped out of it as one surged forward and seized his arm, dragging him forwards.
'Hey! Get off!' He shook himself out of its grip. 'I can walk on my own.'
'Then walk.' He looked to his friends, both eyeing the shadows warily, before taking a deep breath and following the shadows out of the cell, staring around at the building he was in. So far he'd only seen his cell and the hallway outside, though he'd been too cold and disorientated upon his arrival to pay much attention to that. All the corridors looked much the same, walled with dark grey stone, the floors identical, the only light coming from weakly-flickering torches interspersed along the wall. Ogron couldn't help noticing that the shadows avoided the anaemic auras of light; perhaps they couldn't maintain their forms in them? It would make sense if they were nothing more than bespelled darkness. He filed the thought away, in case it might ever be useful.
After trekking through hallway after hallway, and up enough flights of stairs that Ogron was left in no doubt that their cell was far enough underground to qualify as a dungeon, they came to a set of large doors.
The shadows surged into the wood, the doors swinging open in a mass of black and grey, and Ogron's breath caught in his throat. The room beyond wasn't specifically imposing. It had the fairly standard columns and braziers of any standard dramatic villain lair. (Ogron had often wished he had procured such a lair for himself; his temporary lodging in the Gardenia sewers was a source of constant, grating humiliation that never really shut up.) So, really, all Ogron should have felt from the room was that Neruman rather lacked originality. But something about the ambience left his stomach churning with quiet, well-hidden fear. The way the shadows on the walls flickered in a way that was just a little too wild to be from the brazier flames gave Ogron the horrible feeling that he was walking in a sea of sentient shadow slaves, and he had no idea what they were capable of doing to him. In all likelihood, they could do nothing without Neruman's orders, but that did precisely nothing to ease Ogron's mind, as he doubted Neruman possessed even the faintest imitation of morals, and, from the stories he'd heard, mercy was rather a foreign concept.
He swallowed hard as the man himself raised his gaze from where he was seated on the towering throne that appeared to have screaming faces entombed in the architecture. Ogron decided not to focus on those, telling himself that it was most certainly a decorating choice, and definitely, undeniably, hopefully not any sort of indication of what happened to those that failed Neruman. Unless the universe had decided to take up its old pastime of screwing with him for amusement again. In which case they were doomed anyway.
'I see you finally deigned to join me,' Neruman drawled, drumming his fingers as though Ogron and his friends had somehow been dilly-dallying.
'Excuse me?' Ogron asked, confused. 'Your shadows only just came to-'
Neruman's eyes flashed dangerously, and Ogron quickly fell silent. 'Ogron?' Neruman's voice was soft and dangerous. 'In case you were living in some foolish, pitiable delusion of still having the merest scrap of control over your life, let me make it perfectly clear that you do not. You do not speak back to me, you do not disagree with me, you do nothing that I do not permit. Is that clear?'
'I-'
'Did I permit you to speak?' Ogron almost snapped that any reasonable person would take a request for assertion of understanding as an invitation to speak, but Anagan quickly elbowed him, and he pressed his lips shut, taking a deep, slow breath and nodding.
Neruman nodded approvingly at Ogron's submission, while fury roiled inside Ogron's soul. He was the leader of the Wizards of the Black Circle! He shut up for nobody! And now he was silencing himself for some walking cloak? This was pathetic.
'Well, now that we've cleared that up,' Neruman said, dusting his hands off as though utterly destroying Ogron's autonomy was merely a tedious little task he could check off his list, 'we can get on with what I called you here for.' He snapped his fingers, and as he did so, Ogron noted that the skin was wrinkled and puckered, blemished with green pustules. His stomach roiled at the sight, and he wondered just what Neruman looked like under that hood. He had heard the stories of the other wizard's failed attempt at a true immortality spell, a shot at reaching the same plane of existence as the Great Dragon itself, and the disastrous results that had followed. But the legend had hardly come with the gory details, and, observing the apparent effects of the failure, he found himself rather glad of that. Though, in the back of his mind, it deeply unsettled him to be working under a man who had been willing to do that to himself in pursuit of power. And he'd thought he was an out of control madman…
An illusion appeared before Neruman, and Ogron's eyes widened to see Klaus and Morgana inside it. What? Why was he staring at a suburban dad and the former Queen of the Earth fairies, who now appeared to be dressed as a housewife rather than an imposing warrior queen?
'Why are we-?' he started, but a sharp look from Neruman reminded him he wasn't supposed to speak, just hear and obey.
'Morgana is in possession of a necklace. I require it.' Seriously? They were being sent on a scavenger hunt for jewellery? He was not Neruman's errand boy.
'She's a former queen; she probably has a hundred necklaces. Do you want any one in particular, or should we just grab the first bling we see?' Neruman rolled his eyes at Ogron's sarcasm, and Ogron let out a startled yelp as one of Neruman's shadows popped out from what Ogron had correctly identified as a carpet of the enchanted minions, slapping Ogron sharply across the face.
'I would caution you not to take that tone with me,' Neruman remarked conversationally as Ogron rubbed the red mark blooming across his cheek, hissing with pain. 'Unless you would like more bruises to match the one I'm certain you'll soon be sporting.'
Ogron scowled, but didn't speak, and Neruman continued. 'Yes, I do wish for a particular necklace. This one.' The illusion changed to show a delicate necklace dripping with jewels, light almost seeming to spill from the accessory. Ogron would have thought it a magical artefact, if he didn't already know almost every terrestrial artefact.
'This necklace is the source of Morgana's magic,' Neruman explained, and Ogron scoffed, half with surprise, half with incredulity at Neruman's misinformation.
'Something you wish to say?' Neruman asked, raising an eyebrow. 'I'd advise you to think about your answer carefully…'
Ogron grimaced as he touched the tender skin on his cheek, but this was ridiculous! 'I'm sorry, but…the source of all her magic? Please.'
Neruman's eyes burned quietly, though there was a hidden gleam of satisfaction that told Ogron that, somehow, this correction was exactly what he'd been hoping for. 'Yes, the source of her magic. She is a Major Fairy, is she not? They have power sources to contain all that magic you stole then failed to wield.'
Ogron ignored the jibe with valiant effort nobody was going to acknowledge, because nobody ever did. 'Well yes, of course, but Morgana's powers are not contained within…within some gaudy trinket! They are held within her crown!' Ogron knew he was right. He'd torn the magic out of that crown himself, then felt it return to its home the day the Winx had freed the Earth fairies. He didn't know what second-rate delusion Neruman was getting his information from, but he was quite certain that he was professing utter tripe, and Ogron was most certainly not going to stand around and listen to it like some obedient child!
Neruman snickered. Just…sat there and snickered. Ogron felt quite certain the joke was somehow on him, but, after speaking nothing but the truth, he couldn't see how.
'Your arrogance is simply precious, Ogron,' Neruman chuckled, and Ogron's cheeks heated up with ire.
'Arrogance and being right are two completely different things-' he started, but Neruman cut him off.
'Yes, yes, of course they are. And since you are wrong, you are most definitely being the arrogant fool the Winx froze like an ice cube.'
Ogron opened his mouth to bite out a furious retort, but Anagan caught his wrist, shaking his head.
'Ogron,' he hissed, eyes narrowed with determination and concern. 'Seriously, don't.'
Ogron shook Anagan's hand off, but managed to hold his tongue.
'Given how long you've been frozen, it's quite understandable that you would be a tad…behind the times,' Neruman taunted, and Ogron flinched. He didn't know how long they'd been frozen, and he had the horrible feeling Neruman knew just how much it had been eating away at him, and was rather relishing hinting at it. 'Morgana's magic was contained inside her crown. Until she gave the crown and the mantle of queen to a woman I believe you may have heard of?' The illusion switched to show the crown Ogron had spoken of resting amid a familiar sea of messy blue curls, and Ogron's blood boiled.
'Morgana…Morgana made her queen?' he demanded, his voice cracking with incredulous fury. Nebula had overthrown her queen, attempted to freeze the planet, and tried to kill everyone in Gardenia. For their crimes, Ogron and his friends had been imprisoned in frozen hell, with no hope of release until a sadistic madman had broken them out and bound them to his service. But for her crimes, Nebula had received…had received a promotion?!
'Yes, the unfairness of it all is just delicious, don't you think?' Ogron did not. His teeth clenched at the unbelievable bias, but Neruman just waved his hand, moving on from what had honestly been a metaphorical punch in the stomach for Ogron. 'Anyhow, Morgana was hardly going to leave all her magic just lying around on someone else's forehead. Hence…' The necklace appeared again. 'This. Rather nice, don't you think? Crafted by very skilled gemsmiths on Eraklyon. Her magic now resides within these jewels.' Neruman's lips curled into an amused smile. 'So, you see, Ogron, Morgana's powers are in fact contained within a gaudy trinket. This gaudy trinket.' He leaned forwards, his tone light and conversational, though dripping with pleasure at proving Ogron wrong. 'It would appear you were wrong. I'd ask if this is a new sensation for you, but, having heard of your many, many, many, many failures, I should imagine you are quite used to the feeling.' Ogron's cheeks burned, and he looked down at the ground, cringing at his outburst being proven so utterly inaccurate. He hated being wrong. And from the way Neruman was taunting him, he could see the other wizard knew it.
So far today, Ogron had been ridiculed, slapped and berated for opening his mouth. So, it would stand to reason that speaking up was an evidently poor course of action. Ogron had never done particularly well when it came to listening to reason. The lingering chill that clung to his bones was a testament to that.
'Alright, so Morgana's magic is in the necklace. Why do you need her magic in the first place?'
'That is really none of your concern.'
'Oh, I think it is! If we're running into a mission, I'd rather like to know why we're risking drawing the Winx's attention!'
Neruman's eyes narrowed. The shadow was just as fast as last time, and Ogron winced, internally groaning as his face became symmetrical with matching red marks.
'I did warn you about that tone,' Neruman sighed, sounding like a parent berating their misbehaving child. 'Now, as I said, you do not need to know why I need the necklace. You do not need to know anything except that this is what it looks like, and it is in Klaus and Morgana's house. You will go, you will fetch it, and you will give it to my contact, who will give you further instructions. You will do no more, and no less. Is that clear?'
Ogron gritted his teeth, flinching slightly. He hated how…how powerless he was! He wanted nothing more than to blast this intolerable narcissist off his twisted throne, but Neruman had cast a spell preventing him from using his powers without permission.
Anagan answered first, bowing his head in what was an admittedly smart sign of submission. 'Yes, Lord Neruman.'
Gantlos's reply came through gritted teeth as he glowered at the two bruises starting to darken on Ogron, but he knew when to take orders. 'Yes, Lord Neruman.'
Neruman's eyes swivelled to Ogron. 'Ogron? Is that clear?'
Ogron glared furiously at Neruman, his response being spoken through clenched teeth. 'I'm sorry, you didn't give me permission to speak. Perhaps you should be clearer in future.'
Anagan quietly facepalmed at Ogron's blatant display of disrespect, and Gantlos tensed as Neruman stood from his throne, walking down the steps with a casual, leisurely gait, as though he was simply walking to the park, going out of his way to step on every small creature he could spot on the path.
'You know,' Neruman murmured, his voice soft and threatening, 'I had thought you a rather intelligent man, Ogron.'
'Apparently you thought me a submissive man.'
'No, no…' Neruman replied, his tone pensive. 'I thought you could be a submissive man. Your friends know how to take orders; you are going to have to learn.'
Ogron's eyes burned as he glared up at Neruman. This wasn't smart. He knew that, in theory. But he was sick of being derided and treated like a minion! 'Keep dreaming.'
'I do not believe in dreams,' Neruman said dismissively. 'I believe in actions and lessons learned.' He waved a hand to Gantlos and Anagan. 'You two may return to your room.'
'You mean their cell?' Ogron snapped. 'I don't know why you don't just call us your prisoners! Do you enjoy deluding yourself that we'd actually serve you willingly?'
Neruman's eye twitched ever so slightly, but he otherwise ignored Ogron. 'Leave.'
Gantlos shook his head, refusing to move an inch. 'Whatever you're going to do, it's not-'
'Gantlos, when I say leave, you leave, or my shadows drag you out of here kicking and screaming. Now, leave.'
'He doesn't take orders from you,' Ogron snarled.
'He does now,' Neruman replied. 'Now, what are we choosing? Willingly walking away, or kicking and screaming?'
Gantlos looked set to take kicking and screaming, but Ogron sighed, shaking his head. He was more than willing to let his stubbornness drag him into whatever wrath he'd already incurred, but he wasn't letting Gantlos get dragged down with him. 'Gantlos, Anagan, leave. Apparently the walking shroud would like to talk to me alone.'
'Ogron…' Gantlos started, but Ogron gave him a harsh look, and he reluctantly nodded, backing up.
'Good,' Neruman acknowledged, summoning his shadows to escort Gantlos and Anagan back to their cell. 'I'll send the shadows to fetch you when it's time to go.'
'Don't antagonise him,' Anagan hissed to Ogron as the shadows' tendrils closed around his arm. 'I'm serious, Ogron. Just swallow your pride and apologise.' The number of times Ogron should have listened to Anagan was right at the boundaries of numbers created by mathematicians. And yet, despite the numerous consequences Ogron had faced for his disregard of all common sense, every time, he simply obeyed the first whim that came from his prideful temper.
As soon as the doors swung shut on Gantlos and Anagan's worried faces, Ogron spun to face Neruman. 'So, what's the plan here? Because I can take more hits, you know. Do you honestly think you're the first person to try and hurt me to get me to sub-'
'You're far more talkative now than when I freed you,' Neruman remarked, inspecting his rotted nails as though they were of far more interest to him than Ogron's words.
'Well, I'd imagine that has something to do with me not being so cold I can't think,' Ogron snapped.
'I could put you back there, you know,' Neruman said, and the words sent a shiver down Ogron's spine. Back to Omega…the words reminded him of just how much of a hold Neruman truly had over him. But he wouldn't be cowed. Not by this…this pair of novelty lights and a hood!
'But then who would run your errands for you?' Ogron snarked, falling back into the comfortable role of the aloof, sarcastic villain he'd lived for so many centuries.
'There is hardly a shortage of pathetic failed villains in this universe,' Neruman scoffed.
'Well, if I'm so expendable, then I can't see why you're so concerned by my standing up for myself.'
'Because you don't stand anymore.' Neruman finally looked up from his nails, smirking. 'You kneel.'
'Kneel,' Ogron repeated incredulously. 'Kneel?'
'Kneel,' Neruman confirmed.
Ogron laughed incredulously. 'I kneel before no one, you pathetic shadow puppet.'
Neruman cocked his head. 'Well, it's never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. Kneel.' Ogron stayed standing. 'Kneel.'
'If your plan is just to repeat a monosyllabic order until I get so sick of your voice that I bend the knee, then I'm afraid it's a rather pointless endeavour.'
The smile that crept across Neruman's face made Ogron's stomach churn. 'Thank you for letting me know. I had planned to give you another few minutes of chances to realise just how powerless you actually are and get down and bow, but thank you for saving me the time.'
Ogron unconsciously took a step back as Neruman raised a hand, the shadows of the room coalescing as he clenched his fist.
'What are you going to do?' Ogron demanded, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. 'Beat me?'
Neruman shook his head, chuckling softly. 'Oh, no. You won't be reached through physical violence. I can already see that.' He paused, thinking. 'Well, I suppose that's not entirely true; everyone has a breaking point. But by the time I hit yours I do believe I would have driven you quite mad with pain, and that would render you useless to me, not to mention that it would take a while and I'd like to have you in Gardenia by tomorrow, so we're going to avoid those methods. Not that they wouldn't be most enjoyable to watch, but I'm a busy man.' The calm, casual nature with which Neruman spoke made Ogron's skin crawl, but he refused to demonstrate fear.
'So then what are you planning on doing to me?'
'I already told you: I will make you kneel.' Ogron opened his mouth to once more assert that he knelt before no one, but fell silent as Neruman reached out a finger and beckoned, as though calling a child.
'I'm not coming to you-'
'I am not calling you,' Neruman interjected. Ogron was about to ask who on Earth (or wherever the heck they were) he was calling then, when he felt a sharp tugging at something deep inside him.
'What are you doing?' he demanded through gritted teeth. It felt like he was being pulled apart at phantom seams, and, whilst not exactly painful, it was a strange, disconcerting sensation.
'Calling that.' Ogron gasped with shock as a grey shape crept across the floor underneath him. The silhouette was so familiar…
'Oh my God…' he muttered as recognition hit. Neruman was calling his shadow. His gaze flicked up to the other wizard, his skin prickling with nerves as he realised he truly had no idea what Neruman was capable of. Kneel, whispered his mind. Kneel now, and this can end. What are you even clinging to? About five minutes later, he was going to wish he'd listened. But he seldom did.
His shadow crept to Neruman's feet, and the sorcerer bent, caressing it. A wave of nausea swept over Ogron; though it was just his shadow, it still felt like part of him, and watching it practically simper before Neruman was sickening.
Neruman's fingers glowed purple, waves of power washing over the shadow. It glowed for a second, before rushing back to its rightful place under Ogron. He shifted experimentally. The shadow moved with him. What had Neruman done? He wasn't in pain…
'Okay, let's try this again.'
Ogron glanced back at Neruman, frowning. 'What?'
Neruman's voice was cold enough to bring back flashbacks of Omega as he spoke again. 'Kneel.'
'Haven't we already been over-' Ogron was cut off as his legs gave out beneath him, and he plummeted forwards, his head hurtling for the cold flagstones. He instinctively tried to throw his arms out to catch himself, but, to his shock, they refused to follow his commands, apparently taking their own initiative and setting themselves rigidly at his sides. What?!
He squeezed his eyes shut, but his head didn't hit the floor. As he opened his eyes, he found his body locked in a rigor mortis, bent on one knee, his head bowed towards the floor.
Panic washed over him, and he tried to look up, to stand, but his body wouldn't move.
'What…what did you do?!' he demanded, his eyes straining to look up at Neruman, but he could see nothing but the floor beneath him. The floor he knelt on against his will. 'What did you do to me?!'
'I simply flipped a power dynamic to help you understand ours,' Neruman replied with a sadistic cheer. 'You see, normally your shadow cannot do anything without you doing so first, and it is bound to follow your every movement. But I've allowed it to take the reins for a while. You now take orders from it. And it…' Neruman purred, kneeling to be able to look into Ogron's horrified eyes, 'takes orders from me.'
'No…no!' Ogron tried to struggle, but he couldn't move a muscle. 'Let me go!'
'Hm…' Neruman mused. '…No. No, I do not believe I shall. And I think we've heard enough of your voice for one day.' Ogron felt that same paralysis creep across his jaw, locking his lips in place until all he could do was flick his gaze in panic. 'You don't speak unless your shadow permits it. And your shadow won't permit it until I do. And I think perhaps you need quite the long lesson in obedience, Ogron.' He smirked at Ogron's inability to respond. 'I must say, it's quite nice to finally be able to speak without your impudent interruptions.' Neruman began to pace before Ogron, Ogron unable to lift his head to see, only seeing the movement of the other wizard's shadow. 'I almost feel bad for you, you know. You're trapped in the past, in this powerful being you used to be. You can't accept the weak shell you've become. All your power, all your imposing might, all of that was left in the shattered ice of Omega. All that left that frozen hell is my newest minion. A man useful for naught but obeying my words.'
Ogron wanted to snarl for Neruman to shut up, but his lips wouldn't move. Nothing would. His neck ached as his head stayed bowed, while his muscles started to tremble from holding the bow. He wasn't held in place by magic; no, he was holding himself up by his own power, and he had no choice but to keep going as his muscles groaned with strain.
'I had rather hoped to avoid this, you know,' Neruman continued, holding a one-man conversation. 'I'd been anticipating that you'd be so grateful that I'd had the grace to drag you three has-beens from that hell that you'd do as I asked willingly. This is why I try to avoid optimism. Always lets you down…' He ceased his pacing, turning to return to his throne. 'Now…I have a plan for how you're going to steal that necklace. And, even without hearing you speak, I can already tell your thoughts: you make the plans. You're the leader. This is why muzzling you was smart. And for that aforementioned plan, I don't actually need you and your fellow slaves to leave until terrestrial nightfall. And right now it's…about nine in the morning in California. So I suppose you can just stay there until it's time to leave. After all, you look so comfortable.'
Ogron's heart sank. He was…stuck? Stuck like this for hours?
'I could have done worse, but I think this will be most effective. I think you're already learning this little lesson, aren't you?' Ogron's cheeks burned with humiliation as he was left kneeling before Neruman, prostrate like the mindless pawn Neruman sought to make of him.
'You really should have knelt when I told you to… Well, I suppose it's a bit late now.'
Ogron's every muscle trembled, sweat beading and trickling down his brow as he wished for the release of collapse, his back screaming for respite. It had been hours, and he hadn't been permitted to move a muscle. He had never been so utterly humiliated, locked in a bow before the man he'd asserted he'd never yield to.
'Hm…' Neruman spoke, and Ogron mentally braced himself for another slew of insults and derision. However, to his relief, Neruman was finally done. 'I need you to leave soon, so I think we can stop now.' Ogron could have sobbed with relief. He was so tired. Everything ached.
Neruman stood, watching Ogron shake. 'Now, have we learned our lesson?' He flicked his wrist, and Ogron finally felt his jaw relax. He gulped in air, relief flooding his chest at the scrap of control.
'Yes, Lord Neruman.' He hated how submissive his voice was, but he was desperate. He'd do whatever he had to to be free of this, and, though it galled him to his very core, Neruman was right. He had learned a lesson here.
'Good. Now, just before I let you up, I'm just going to run through the plan. You don't mind staying down there a little longer, do you?'
'…No, Lord Neruman.'
'Alright then. Now, I want you to go to Gardenia, and you will set Morgana's husband's bar on fire. Just the stock, I don't want a scandal drawing too much attention. While you've drawn them out of the house, you go in, get the necklace, grab some other trinkets to pull focus, get out, and you'll receive further instructions.' Ogron rankled at that plan, thinking of roughly a dozen adjustments he'd have made, but this time he found it far easier to hold his tongue, his breathing slow and ragged as he listened.
'Is that clear?' Neruman asked.
'Yes, Lord Neruman.'
'Good. Now, if I let you up, can I be assured you will follow my instructions to the letter?'
'Yes, Lord Neruman.'
'And who is in charge here?'
'…You are.'
Neruman's voice was dripping with cruel glee as he spoke. 'And who is the servant?'
Ogron's mind rebelled against what he was about to agree with, but he knew now that he had no choice. '…I am.'
'Who is the pawn?'
'…I am.'
'Who is my puppet?'
Ogron swallowed hard, forcing the words out. 'I am.'
'Excellent!' Neruman clapped his hands with delight at Ogron's submission. 'You can let him go now.'
Ogron's shadow relaxed, and Ogron felt himself take control of his body again, a control that rapidly slipped away as his trembling muscles gave out and he collapsed to the floor, gasping.
'Oh, don't be so melodramatic,' Neruman snapped. 'Get up.' Ogron didn't move, his body too spent to even peruse the proposal of standing. 'I am more than capable of putting your shadow back in charge and forcing you,' Neruman warned, and Ogron, his skin crawling at the thought of being enslaved to his own shadow again, managed to drag himself upright, his legs swaying beneath him.
Neruman signalled to his shadows. 'Bring the other two back. It's time for them to go.' The shadows flitted from the room, a dark, silent tar sweeping through the darkness. 'Oh, and, Ogron?' Ogron looked nervously to Neruman. 'I think I'm going to leave that enchantment on your shadow. Call it a little reminder that you will kneel whether you choose it or not.' So Neruman could force him to his knees, mute him, whenever he so desired? Ogron felt sick. But he said nothing, his body too spent from the lesson to let him consider disobedience and risk another few hours of kneeling.
'Ah…' Neruman sighed. 'Finally. You hold your tongue. The silence is so pleasant…'
The doors swept open and Gantlos and Anagan walked inside, surrounded by a menacing black mass of Neruman's minions. Gantlos rushed to Ogron immediately, his eyes scanning him for injuries. He relaxed slightly when he didn't see any, but his expression stayed heavy with concern as he took in the sweat pouring down Ogron's face and the tremor in his muscles.
As Anagan hurried over after Gantlos, his gaze just as concerned, Neruman rose, flicking his wrist. The shadows in the room coalesced into a dark vortex, a strange, dark light spilling from the centre.
'This portal will take you to Gardenia. Ogron has been appraised of the plan, and I'm certain he'll ensure you all follow it to the letter. Is that right, Ogron?'
Ogron nodded weakly. 'Yes, Lord Neruman.'
Gantlos and Anagan exchanged worried, wide-eyed glances at Ogron's submissive, exhausted voice.
'Perfect. Now, go.' At Neruman's order, Ogron turned and walked towards the portal on trembling legs. Gantlos and Anagan exchanged a shocked look, but quickly followed him.
'Ogron…' Gantlos murmured as they stepped through the portal, walking through into the cool night air of the city that had set the stage for the worst failures of their lives. 'What did he do to you?'
Ogron glanced at Gantlos's hand on his shoulder, the gesture heavy with love and concern, but all it made him feel was weak. He had been utterly humiliated before Neruman, and his soul rebelled against the thought of sharing that with his friends.
Shaking Gantlos's hand off, Ogron dredged up the energy to walk forwards, towards his new life of servitude. 'It doesn't matter. We have a job to do.'
Poor Ogron. I wrote Neruman as pretty sadistic here, and with some far more insidious powers than he was given in the comics. I think this answered the question of why Ogron would bow to Neruman. Especially as Neruman can play Ogron's shadow like a puppet now. And I tried to give some explanation to Morgana's necklace, which always felt pretty random. This was the best I could do.