ATTENTION: I had to take a bit out of this one too, too explicit for M rating. I wrote a short summary of what is happening instead. If you wanna read the detailed version, hop over to AO3!
WARNING: spoilers for the Path of the Dark Eldar in this one! I marked it in the text!

Dear readers,

I meant to get this one out so much faster - but then shit hit the fan.
One of my cats got severely sick and was diagnosed with a chronic heart disease. He was in and out of the vet clinic for two months now, and now finally things are looking up and stabilising. You can probably imagine I had no strength nor time left to get more writing done.

Then, at 2am two days ago, inspiration hit me on how to finish this one up, and so I did!

To my reviewers:
Xager-the-Chaos-King: I think you'll like where this'll go! Can't say much more than that. ;) Thank you for your assessment, you definitely have a firm grasp on the situation! :D
MrNarwhale: Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it so much!
evolution-500: You might not be wrong, but we'll find out! Thank you!
TichePotato: I get you wanted to make this a 40k joke, but at the time it arrived at my doorstep, I was still hurt about people not commenting and it sadly failed at its aim.
bigwoof: all discussed in the PMs, thank you! Still sad you had to skip.

ALSO, GUYS: evolution-500 consulted me on a very hilarious Lobo/40k crossover they wrote! It's called "Fight Night" and it's about Lobo stumbling into Commorragh and getting the hots for Lelith. It's hilarious, I had a FANTASTIC time reading it and I strongly urge you to do so too! You can find it here on this site! Hop over to evolution-500's profile!

I hope I can give you some nice Sunday reading.

Enjoy!

Cheers,
Shâtî

Chapter 30

Become Undone

"He who sees his own doom can better avoid its path.
 He who sees the doom of others can deliver it."
— Eldrad Ulthran

"CH-CHOSEN ONE…?" I stammered, still quite left in disbelief. Realising the rest he had said, I continued, "And I'm the first one… ever?"

Vect chuckled. "Did you really believe anybody else ever met my high expectations?" He let go of me and got up.

I remembered that Chu'uk had told me, which now seemed a lifetime ago, what a Chosen One was: "Oh, these are the very best of our slaves. Lucky. Most skilful. Those who knew when to put a knife in someone's back, how to endure their master and those who obeyed without asking. Those are the ones that get rid of the slave collar. It is a long way, a bloody way, a way, which asks for unscrupulousness and intelligence in equal terms; but I get the feeling that you might have got what it takes."

Who would have thought that this weak, arrogant bastard had gotten something right after all?

The thought made me smile.

"Something amusing you, Temira?" my master asked.

I looked at him, tearing my stare away from nothingness, and replied, "I just came to realise that late Archon Chu'uk, with a streak of rare intelligence, suspected that I could attain the position of Chosen One eventually."

"Not 'late' at all, Temira," Vect smirked.

"He's… he's still alive?" I asked in disbelief. I had been sure that by now, Vect had killed him. It had been years since he had been imprisoned. Then again, the thought was naïve in itself. If anybody knew how to prolong suffering beside the Haemonculi, it was Vect.

"Of course! After this utterly insulting 'assassination attempt' - and I detest honouring it by calling it this - he deserves all the suffering he can take." He flashed a toothy grin. "Do you want to see how he is faring?"

My face lit up. "I would very much like to, master!" That would just make my day. I hated Chu'uk with a passion, since he had treated me so very badly. He had been a moody, unrestrained asshole, and he deserved everything he got.

Vect smiled truly joyously for once. "Alright, as soon as you can walk again. We will discuss the aspects of your new position then. Rest now, I still have some work to do." Having said that, he changed into some robes and left the quarters again.

So, I remained sitting on the bed, awaiting his return.

Since I had little else to do - and could do little else, considering the condition of my leg - I watched with utter fascination how my flesh mended. I only had the opportunity once before to actually watch it, but back then, my mind had been latched on to other, far direr things, since it had been after my severe punishment for feeding Vyras.

I wondered how it worked, what Vlokarion had altered in my body to boost my regenerative powers so massively. My biotechnology knowledge, me attaining it now seeming as if I had done so in a different life, made me wonder and consider several possibilities. All those I knew of, which science had suspected back in my dimension, would have given me immediate cancer. Messing with enzymes and DNA usually had that effect. Not for a masterful Haemonculus like Vlokarion, of course, yet it still was incredibly impressive. To attain his knowledge… it was a dream, and would remain one forever.

As I watched, I suspected that another boost had been added to this upgrade recently. My wounds had regenerated rapidly before, but not that quickly. The cut I had sustained had been so deep that it had torn one of the smaller ligaments connecting my foot to my shank, and in the Carnival an injury like this would have spelled doom for me. I had barely been able to take what the bounty hunter had done to me back then, and those cuts had been more superficial than this one.

When Vect came back, the wound was gone for a while, and I had showered in the meantime, knowing that my master would order me to do so anyway. Because of my stronger ability to regenerate, I felt that Vlokarion had done a great deal more than just drug me to make me forget, but I was wise enough to not push the issue.

It was either this, or Rakarth's expertise in fleshcrafting showed that much. Both were possible, really, and there was a reason why he held the unique title of Master Haemonculus. As much as I liked Vlokarion, Rakarth was far beyond him in that regard. However, when it came down to extracting life essences, Vlokarion wore the crown.

As the Overlord came back, he asked as he passed me, "Able to walk again?"

I nodded and replied, "Yes, master."

Vect stopped at the table, poured himself a glass of wine, downed it in one gulp and sighed relishingly after he had swallowed.

It was a strange sight. The nagging feeling of something going on that truly vexed him almost turned into certainty. I had only ever seen Vect drink in moderation, strange for the Dark Lord of the Drukhari, but it was how I had observed it. Chugging a drink like this was very unlike him.

However, I knew better than to comment on it, and slipped out of bed in one fluent movement, evading all the barbs and spikes with ease, enjoying my enhanced body a lot. "Anything I can do to take the tension of this day off you, my lord?" I asked him carefully.

A single chuckle shook his tall form, then he turned around to face me and replied, "I am afraid what I am currently dealing with is beyond even your skilled hand, my dear Temira. But do not burden your mind with these matters - they are mine to handle." His gaze shortly trailed into the distance and I understood his mind was still working intensely on whatever issue that had arisen. However, he snapped out of it quickly again, and his eyes transfixing mine. "Now, I suggest we pay a visit to Verisael before dinner - in case the sight might be too much for you."

That made me feel uneasy, but I had said yes, and now I had to tough it out. Backing down was not worthy of Vect's Chosen One. I was aware I could lose the privileged position far quicker than I had attained it, and I would be damned if I let it come to this, just because I was not able to handle the sight of torture.

It was a paradox - I had little to no issues watching some of my kind getting torn apart by Rakarth and Vlokarion, but the thought of seeing Vect's extremely skilled hand on somebody made me feel insecure.

In the past I probably would have equated it with getting an idea of what he might have done to Lisbeth, but I found with relief that this was not it. I successfully cut all emotional ties with her, even though it only had been a few hours ago.

No, it was much simpler: it was the thought of knowing that I could end up there anytime, if I was not careful. It sounded crazy, now that I had risen to the highest rank any slave could wish for, but I was fully aware of how fragile my privilege was.

The thought came paired with self-satisfaction. I prided myself with keeping a cool and rational head, even though it would have been natural for me to be drunk with victory right now. No, it certainly was what had made me so successful in the first place: being extremely cautious and smart about my actions.

Vect gestured to me to follow him, and I halted with surprise in my step as he started ascending the metal-grid winding stairs. I had suspected that one of his personal torture chambers was up there, but I never…

Wait.

I had been up there.

It had been, where…

I shivered. So this was where I had killed Lisbeth. The same place where Vect kept Chu'uk. Had he even been in the same room? My stomach grew cold again. Was this another test, to see whether I could stand Chu'uk's mockery about becoming the very same thing I had tried to distance myself from in the beginning? Back when I had thought I could stand strong? That I could stay human?

I gritted my teeth and followed. No, I would not fail if this was another test. I had come too far to back down now.

I followed my master through the door. Behind it was a narrow corridor, and I realised with surprise that I could see down on the extremely ornate mosaic hallway that led to the Scrying Chamber and the secret door to the second set of quarters. It was a nice place to spy on people, measure their emotions and reactions and whatnot.

To hold all the aces when they faced him in the Scrying Chamber.

Every part of Corespur was a tactical masterpiece, crafted to be unbreachable and to allow Vect to control everything from the shadows.

Just like he wanted it.

My thoughts were drawn back into the here and now as the Overlord opened a heavy door on the other side of the corridor. The smell that engulfed me as the gate opened with a small hiss was one I knew all too well.

This was where the torture chamber lay.

The sharp odour of adrenaline, paired with the heavy musk of fear-laden sweat and the metallic tang of blood played around my nose. I no longer gagged at the sensation. I was so used to it that it did not even bother me.

The room behind it was not particularly large for Corespur, and quite frugal. There was a surgical table with shackles on it, but the fine lines running through the metal told me that it had to be quite variable. Quite similar fine lines ran through the walls too, hinting at hidden drawers and cupboards, probably holding a large variety of torture instruments. I curiously also noted some subtle knobs in the corners of the room, which hinted at generation spots for force fields. Even though it did not look like much right now, this room was probably extremely versatile.

I wondered why Vect would bring me here while everything was sterile and empty, since I assumed he was testing me, but I also realised that I would never know, so I discarded the thought almost immediately.

We did not linger in the room, which I also realised I remembered from deeds of the recent past, but took a sharp left turn and went through another door, which connected to a second hallway.

The hallway was lined with six doors, which clearly were prison cell doors. Naturally, Vect had to keep the prisoners of his private playground locked up tight, as they usually were extremely dangerous specimens.

- SPOILER FOR THE PATH OF THE DARK ELDAR STARTS HERE -

All but one.

At the end of the hallway, on a broader space, lit dramatically by an oval window high up on the wall, a cowering statue made of black glass could be seen. It was an almost life-like statue of a Drukhari man. He was on his palms and knees, his posture looking as if he had been petrified in the moment he had been writhing in agony, and his face was contorted into a silent scream, conveying unimaginable suffering.

Could that be…?

It had to be, right?

I hesitated in my step for a second, and Vect naturally sensed it. He turned around and asked, "Something the matter, Temira?"

I leant a bit to the side to get a better view of the statue and then asked quietly, "Is this… Nyos Yllithian?"

The Overlord chuckled and turned to look at the statue too. "I sometimes forget about your vast, in-depth knowledge about Commorragh's history. You are correct. This is indeed dear, foolish Nyos."

Nyos Yllithain, former Archon of the Kabal of the White flames, had dared to plot against Vect with a few other Archons by resurrecting the Overlord's greatest rival, El'Uriaq, the only opponent Vect ever had to defeat indirectly, by having a burning Salamander ship crash into his satellite realm. Everything was reduced to ashes and the exploding Warp drive made sure the inhabitants met a fate worse than death, turning them into twisted spirits, forced to wander the wasteland forever, while being chased by Slaaneshi daemons. Eventually, Yllithian was caught as the main culprit of the conspiracy, and was turned into a living statue via the glass plague virus.

Yes, Yllithian was still alive in there, condemned to outlive his days in the Overlord's private dungeon, unable to move, but still able to perceive everything around him, and feel anything done to him. It was a terrible fate, yet I had found even when I had read the story back in my dimension that Yllithian was a fool for trying to defy Vect in the first place, and got what was coming to him.

The Overlord ripped me out of my pondering by saying, "Not to worry, Temira, Nyos is as harmless as they come." He then moved to the last door on the left side of the corridor, and gestured to me to come.

I shivered as I stepped close to Yllithian. I was not sure whether my mind was playing tricks on me, but I thought that his eyes followed me, a spark of despair and hatred shining in them. So close to the statue, I felt coldness emanating from it and I shivered again. It was eerie, to put it mildly.

- SPOILER ENDS HERE AND EXPLICIT TORTURE SCENE WOULD START HERE -

Summary of the tortue scene: Vect shows Temira what he did to Chu'uk. Ch'uk is suspended on barbed rods and Vect exacerbates his suffering by yanking at a weight which is attached to Chu'uk's feet, after Ch'uk recognises Temira, cusses at her and is insolent towards her after she tells him she made the position of Vect's Chosen One. Chu'uk is also hindered from regenerating via soul-feeding through a device which looks like a black orb, which Urien gave to Vect. There is also an Asuryani female slave in the room, unconscious, but all limbs dislocated, as an unattainable meal for Chu'uk, right in front of his nose.

- EXPLICIT TORTURE SCENE WOULD STOP HERE -

Be that as it may, even though I enjoyed seeing that Chu'uk got what he deserved, I was happy not to have to stay in the room longer than necessary. Witnessing torture still was a lot for me, as little as I liked that weakness about myself. I could not fight my human nature entirely.

The Overlord led me back to his quarters, where we sat down for dinner.

"Thoughts?" he asked me.

I looked at him startled for a second, as this was a question he had never asked before, but I knew not answering was not an option either, so I replied, "I found it… creative. Though, master, am I correct in assuming that some kind of substance or detail I didn't catch was added to the rods? What he expressed didn't quite match the method."

Vect chuckled and gave back, "Smart girl. You are correct. The rods are set with micro-barbs, which act as syringes. Those constantly exude weak acid, not enough to eat away his flesh, but making sure every movement and pressure on his tissue is agony, as it is kept in an inflamed state."

"I see," I simply gave back. I still was unsure how wise it was to make conversation in general, and what the rules of my new position were, so I refrained from speaking. My master seemed to enjoy the quiet too, so that was that, and we ate in silence.

After dinner, we went to the garden, which I found to be able to face without terror, where he had me massage his head.

As we were done with this, we went back to the quarters, where he spent some time examining some datapads while sitting in the horror-chair, and I endured by his side, but found with relief that the thing did not touch me this time.

After what felt like hours, he finally put down the last pad, reached down to me to gently run his fingers through my hair and then asked, "Now, I am sure you wonder whether your promotion changes anything, am I not right, Temira?"

I looked up to him and replied, "Yes, I do, Overlord."

"I am surprised that you did not ask earlier."

"I was not sure whether it was appropriate."

Vect sighed. "Yes, I can see why. I have been quite strict with you recently, so I cannot blame you for being cautious." He shook his head. "Nevermind that now, and let me explain. With the position of Chosen One, some things do indeed change for you. For one, you are herewith allowed to ask 'why' again."

He let that sink in, and sink in it did. I raised my eyebrows in surprise and meekly told him, "B-but I'm still a slave, and…"

"Yes, I know what I taught you. However, that shows me that you have not entirely understood the meaning of your new position. Being a Chosen One is more than being a slave, you see. You are still my servant, and you still are at my mercy, yes, but your position comes with privileges and expectations that exceed those of a mere slave. And one of the greatest of those expectations is independent thinking, understanding and acting, if appropriate. Now, you cannot really be expected to understand things if you are not allowed to question them, do you not agree?"

I nodded. "That makes sense, my lord." I shortly drifted off in my mind, and the realisation of how many privileges I had had in the past hit me. It surprised me, and made me realise how highly the Overlord had thought of me in the beginning. That made it hurt even more that I had failed him so much that he thought it necessary to treat me like a regular slave, and hardened my hatred towards Lisbeth, who had made me question and fail him in the first place.

Good riddance.

"In terms of clothing, apart from the loss of the collar, you will get less scanty things to wear, and will be allowed footwear again," Vect continued explaining.

I simply nodded, but my mind raced. I had clearly underestimated the impact of my promotion. At the same time, I was nervous about wearing shoes again, because it had been such a long time that I hoped I would not have to deal with high heels or somesuch. I never had been fond of them in the first place, and it was a new source of discomfort and instability I would rather not deal with. But considering this was Commorragh, I expected the double-edged sword.

"And, last but not least, this position elevates you over any slave, and also over any other Chosen One, considering I am your master. You are now on top of the entire slave hierarchy, Temira, and I expect you to behave as such. Tolerate no insolence or disobedience from anybody below you. You are an exemplar now, and you have to be a paragon for all other slaves and servants - and as you know, obedience is key for any underling."
I nodded again and smiled. I liked the sound of that a lot. I had always craved to hold power over others, and this was the perfect opportunity to execute it.

Vect smiled too. "I am positive you will do fine in your new position." He patted my cheek.

"There is one thing I would like to know, master," I stated, ready to show him that I was not afraid to use my new privileges.

"Go on."

"When will the raid on Bakka commence? I know it has to be coming up soon, if my time calculations are correct."
The Overlord's expression showed satisfaction, but also complacency. "Ah, that. It is already done, my dear, executed while you were training for the Carnival. I reckon your time calculation might be a tad off." He then stood and got ready for bed.

I did not entirely buy it. Yes, it could be off, but it was also equally likely that he had told me a fake date back when I had divulged my knowledge of the future. It made sense, actually. I had barely been in his service for a few days, why would he trust me with information that was apparently important?

That, or it had been done much, much longer ago, and I had not told him anything new in the first place. It would be logical, because when I had been in the Crucibael, I had not seen or heard anything of the Cult of Strife moving out, and I knew they had been with the Black Heart on that particular raid. Either way, judging from his reaction, he would not tell me the truth, so I let it rest. It was not important for me to know and I would not dare the blade for curiosity's sake.

Vect's voice drew me back into reality, "Now is also a good time to remind you that you are still allowed one favour, for your commendable behaviour when we first met."
I blinked in confusion and replied, "I thought I had lost that privilege after I made so many mistakes." I stood and walked to him, to help him doff his robe.

"No, I stand by my word, Temira. That much you should have realised by now." His tone was casual, not implicating that I had insulted him, fortunately.

Inflexion notwithstanding, I decided to be careful, "Of course, my lord, yet, I hope you can understand my reasoning."

Vect nodded. "It is sound. Now, is there something you wish for?"

I was nervous to ask, heart pounding. Of course, I had milled the thought around in my head time and again, hoping I still had the wish free. And there was something I really wanted, but I did not want it to come off as something it was not.

"Master, since I have served you faithfully for a while now, and I enjoy your presence, I'd like to ask for my wish that I get to be with you always. The real you, not a doppelgänger. I hope my loyalty has shown you that you can trust me." I tried to stay calm, even though I knew this was a big ask. I did not want him to think that this was some idiotic love confession, because it was not, but it was important to me.

Vect chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair once, in a possessive caress. "Ah, my sweet Temira. You really are innocent in your own right, asking me this. I appreciate your affection, my child, but I think you know as well as I do that I cannot abide by that, as it would give me a potential weakness to exploit. No matter how loyal you are, you know that this knowledge would make you an eternal liability."

I nodded. "You are right, master. I just wanted to give it a shot."

Vect chuckled. "Daring, but I shall allow it. What else?"

Oh, I actually knew that one too, now that I searched my feelings about it.

Looking him straight in the eye, and with a wrathful gravity in my voice that startled me for a second, I told him, "I want to kill Ailith. I've wanted to kill that bitch since I met her, and I never managed to even touch her, which is unsurprising."

Fangs bared in a wide grin, he announced solemnly, "Wish granted."

Lelith Hersperax's suspicions and spies had been nothing but correct.

Another day, another time pondering things in her sanctum. It happened quite frequently now - much more often than in the past millennia. Accepting that Asdrubael was slowly going insane had taken a lot of time. What she had felt for a long time when being around him, now was confirmed. He was losing his mind.

First, she had tried to dismiss the messages and information she got as not confirmed enough, not clear enough, tampered with, something, any thing, so she did not have to believe the dire truth. However, it now turned out to be true.

That Asdrubael demanded Ailith's life for his goddamn Chosen One was the last straw. He had to know that this stunt would cost him dearly in terms of support. The Kabals would frown at him for giving a capable Hekatrix's head on a silver platter to a slave - no matter how excellent said slave was.

Lelith was positive that Asdrubael no longer cared. No wonder, with what he had in mind.

He was planning on sacrificing most of Commorragh - structure and lives alike - for some kind of ascension, and thus, gaining even more personal power. Maybe the rumours were true, maybe the usual regeneration did no longer work on him. It would fit. Age-wise, few came close, and almost all who did, were weak and only kept alive by a stranglehold they had everybody around them in. Asdrubael naturally had a web of blackmail around him too, but he had never weakened in all these years.

As Lelith thought back to when she had made the decision of looking into his sinister plans, she remembered thinking that maybe she could use her influence to stop him. However, by now, she had realised that it was no use. Even when she used all her influence and pulled all her allies together, it still would not be enough to stop him. If her sources were to be believed, everything was in place already, the stage set, the actors paid off, ready to wreak havoc at Asdrubael's command, to leave Commorragh awash in chaos - and it would all start here, in the Crucibael. In the end, he had made a mockery of the gift he had given her all those years ago. She should have seen it coming.

Lelith had lived long enough to know when it was better not to fight but retreat, as little as it was in her nature. It was not that she was worried about her image in Commorragh, not with what she would be avoiding with a strategic retreat, but it was going against every fibre of her being. Lelith never backed down from a fight. However, this was a fight so monumental it would mean throwing her life away, since perfect battle-prowess and two daggers could do nothing against the presented challenge. For wasting her life, she had survived for far too long.

No, fleeing once would not kill her reputation, especially since she had a plan in mind on how to make a grand comeback, should things turn out differently than she thought. Bringing back Lucius the Eternal and eviscerating him in the arena would certainly prove once and for all that she alone was the mistress of combat.

However, now she had to be patient and wait for the right moment to make her exit - preferably quite dramatically so.

Still, first came the hard part - not letting Asdrubael see how little she liked that she had to sacrifice Ailith.
Then again - better Ailith then her.

That made it easier to fake the smile.

My heart was pounding fast as I stepped into the cell where Ailith was bound. I was not nervous, this was excitement.

I still was left in disbelief about the fact that my master would grant me something so problematic - after all, sacrificing a Hekatrix to a slave was outrageous. However, I did not worry about that, after all, he knew best what he could and could not allow himself. It was not something I questioned, and it was beyond my comprehension. No human could ever rule Commorragh.

I was surprised that the Overlord did not want to be present for this. Ailith would perish, and he certainly had enjoyed drinking her suffering, seeing that he was always hungering for more.

I supposed it was another test, to see what I would do. It made sense. I had ascended to the rank of Chosen One - I better picked up the pace.

However, for once, the expectations did not bother me, because I would enjoy this. If that bitch thought I would make this quick, she was in for a bad time.

"You're just as pathetic as I thought - needed me on a silver platter to do anything useful, huh?" Ailith spat at me immediately, a translator converting her words into Low Gothic for my ears.

Although the jab did irk me a bit, I kept my face carefully composed. I really hated not to be allowed to talk to her in the Drukhari tongue - insults and threats were particularly fun to utter in it. So, I gave back in Low Gothic, "What's the matter? Can't handle not being on top of things, hmm? Now you finally know what it's like to not have any chance against the one pushing you around," I gave back, and oh, did it feel great! How I had longed for taking revenge on her!

Hatred sparked from her eyes. "You have no idea what I do and don't know, you pathetic cunt. Damn, if I had known you were that good at sucking the Overlord's dick, I would have made sure you never make it out of the Carnival alive!"

I laughed at her. This low blow was so ridiculous, it did not even hurt. "You know what's funny?"

"You thinking you're relevant?" Ailith interjected.

My fist landed in her face. She did not make a sound, but spat blood. "Don't interrupt me," I calmly said, keeping my emotions in check.

Ailith scoffed. "Or else? You're going to kill me more?"

I leant close to her. She tried to bite me, I dodged her attack, and hit one of the paralysis points on her neck, just like she had taught me, leaving her in painful cramps and unable to move her head.

I leant back in, flashed what I hoped was a creepy smile and replied with lowered voice, "Or else I'm going to show you what a good student I actually was and how much a certain Haemonculus has taught me." That was a bit of a stretch, Vlokarion had not taught me anything about how he was torturing, but I had watched him enough to extrapolate some things. Combine that with the lesson in Drukhari anatomy he had given me, I figured my knowledge was decent for a human.

It was hard to tell whether the comment scared her, but I believed to see her confidence waver a little. That was good enough for me. I straightened myself again. "What is funny though, is that everybody thinks that I'm solely the Overlord's whore. Good for me, really. Underestimate me. It's fun, I have to say."

A single laugh shook Ailith as the effect of the paralysis point waned. "The whole Haemonculus stunt certainly explains why you're suddenly fast enough to dodge my attacks." She raised her head to look at me, the chains she was bound to the wall with slightly clinking. "It's almost impressive how you managed to prostitute yourself to everybody. The favours you got required all the bootlicking. How does it feel to be a traitor to your kind and completely accepting the slave role?"

"You know," I replied, acting as if I was contemplating her words, "this probably would hurt if I was an indoctrinated Imperial - which I'm not."
That she had not known, I could see it. Apparently she had not heard about my slip-up in training.

"That said, I can tell you how it feels: right, " I told her and I meant it. It felt good to be able to admit it. I never had held much love for my own kind, I always had adored other races more, even back in my dimension, where all this had been fantasy.

"Aww, I never thought you actually had the stuff to be a sociopath. How good for you!" Ailith mocked me, using her sickly-sweet voice that I hated so much.

Enough! I would not let her taunt me! I got as far as any slave could ever hope to come!

I jumped her, burying the index and middle fingers of both my hands into different pain points, and watched with pleasure as her face distorted in agony. As I was that close, I hissed into her face, "But let me ask you something: how does it feel to know that when I'm done with you, you are going to meet the thing you fear and hate the most? Looking forward to being She-Who-Thirst's bitch? It's a shame I can't be there to see it!"

"Fuck… you…!" Ailith grunted back through clenched teeth.

"Oh, I will jerk off to this memory I'm about to create, thanks for asking," I told her dispassionately and rammed my knee into her stomach, making her dry heave.

Before she could catch her breath, I snarled at her, "Let me give you a taste of what awaits you in She-Who-Thirst's realm!"

Asdrubael Vect was surprised to find that he felt a tad fascinated by what Temira did to Ailith. Creative, that one, at least for a mon-keigh , decent anatomy knowledge too. He figured that was the training part Temira had referred to, he highly doubted Vlokarion had parted with some secrets concerning torture.

What genuinely amused him was what Temira felt. How she had correctly figured that this was, even though reward, also another test! How she pushed herself to do more than she would have wanted without him visibly breathing down her neck! Naturally, she did not know that he was actually very close by and watching - it would be a shame to let Ailith's suffering go to waste, Drukhari essences were potent, after all - but that she behaved the way she thought he wanted it even without him being openly in the room made him feel very satisfied.

Yes, truly, Temira was now completely under his spell, and now she was ready to play her part. Somewhere, deep down, it relieved him. It would have been thoroughly frustrating if all his hard work with her would have been for naught, even though tearing her apart would have been entertaining. All her upgrades ensured that.

Maybe he would find another candidate after her passing that he could mould so, because what the Temira project had shown him was that a completely brainwashed personal slave held its own joys. Her unquestioning obedience and unwavering loyalty stroked his ego, and her matching skill set was… diverting.

Yet, this was not her purpose, or, not for much longer anyway. No, what he would reap from her fitting passing would be much more rewarding than any devotion of hers ever could.

When Ailith had finally succumbed to her multiple wounds and expired, he rose from his hidden seat and left to attend to his other duties, today with a relishing smile on his lips.

This predicament was… suboptimal.

Vlokarion was absolutely convinced that it had been a calculated move of Vect to have Urien stitch Temira together, and no other. He knew that the Overlord would not usually pay Urien's steep rates just for having a minor injury patched together, especially one of a slave. Vlokarion was dying to know how in She-Who-Thirst's name the Overlord had caught wind of the little clash he and Urien had going on, but he was dead-sure that he had.

Now Urien had a tissue sample of Temira, and he would be able to read everything about her out of this.

Vlokarion smirked nonetheless.

Sample or no sample, he had enough advance in his work to have Urien not figure out in time what he was planning. He was confident about this, and it even was a cautious estimate. He just wondered why the Overlord had played that gambit - usually, he did not care about the power struggles of the Haemonculi.

Vlokarion figured it had something to do with his task, and the pocket realm Urien had created for Vect. The Overlord probably wanted to balance things out between the two masters, to be sure they were kept in a stalemate about their skills and shared secrets.

Annoying, but of little impact, fortunately.

No, he would not falter because of this setback. Even though Urien had the key, he still had to know where to put it. And a perfect clone, even though he had proposed the question to Urien, would not be first on his mind. After all, what was one mon-keigh in the big picture of things? Urien only viewed Temira as a 'duckling', as he so aptly put it - he would not suspect his high ambitions for her.

Putting himself at ease with the screams of another unfortunate subject, Vlokarion enjoyed a little drink of warm, freshly-spilled blood.

I was excited. It had been a while since we had gone and watched one of Lelith's performances! I vividly remembered the last time I had seen her fight, before the Carnival, and it had been enchanting.

On top of it, it would be a duel against another Succubus, named Yvraine, so it was bound to be a high-speed, adrenaline-rousing battle!

I extremely enjoyed walking behind my master through Corespur, not bound by collar or chain. I enjoyed the new silken, asymmetric, waisted tunic I had been given, and the slight leather sandals I was wearing. Despite my fears, I had not been presented with stiletto high-heels, but simple, thin-soled strap sandals with an intricate pattern of leather strings that clad the entirety of my shanks. My muscular physique certainly enhanced the look of my outfit, and I was very pleased about that. My look was rounded off by an intricate braid, which elongated the top of my head, underlining my sharp features, which had been shaped through training and hardship.

I was an accessory to my master, but I felt like I was a worthy one, probably for the first time ever since I was in Commorragh.

To my great surprise, we did not enter his personal flyer, but boarded something I had only read about: his flying ziggurat.

I had thought it had been destroyed in the past, but apparently it had been rebuilt - much like the doppelgänger, which I was sure I had dealt with for quite a while.

The ziggurat was extremely spacious inside, it was a fortress in itself, and I made sure to follow my master closely, to not be completely lost in it. It had several floors, each one dedicated to something else - drives, weapons, navigation - and the bridge, on which we stopped and Vect seated himself in a throne worthy of his stature, was located on the topmost level.

Then, we made our way to the Crucibael. The ziggurat had incredibly smooth movement. When you were in it, you did not realise that it was moving at all. I only knew that we were because there was a viewing screen which showed where we were going, apart from a lot of instruments, which I had no hope of deciphering.

"You seem rather excited by all of this, Temira," the Overlord remarked snidely.

I nodded. "Yes, master. You see, I'm currently once more experiencing legend, as I only read about this here ziggurat in my dimension. It is still an overwhelming feeling."

Vect chuckled. "Your childish wonder about these mundane things is simply quaint."

I just smiled innocently and thought it wiser not to speak.

We quickly arrived at the Crucibael, and the external cameras picked up the heart of the arena.

"A drink is in order, Temira," Vect said to me, expecting me to know what he wanted.

I nodded and got up, determined to find out where I would get his liquor from.

I found that the lack of the collar made it a lot easier for me to ask around. When I asked some standard Kabalites for the way, I was not met with mockery or hostility, but simply with a cold, grunted instruction on where to go. Apparently, they knew better than to injure the Overlord's most prized slave.

I mixed a drink I thought would fit the occasion, and got back to my master, who took the beverage smilingly and satisfiedly.

"Good to see that I have not misjudged your capabilities," he remarked with a grin.

I bowed and gave back submissively, "I'm happy that it is to your liking, master."

Vect chuckled and gently stroked my cheek with his clawed gauntlet, something that still had goose-bumps race down my spine. "Look at you. Afraid to call me 'master' in the beginning, now almost solely addressing me with that term. Seems as if Lisbeth got something right, after all."
The remark that the traitor had helped me in some regard stung, but I knew he was testing me, so I bowed again and replied, "It seems as if, master. Where would you like me?"

"Beside my seat. Sit down, be quiet and watch. I know you will like today's performance."
He was right. The spectacle that unfolded in the Crucibael today was exquisite. The high-speed battles before the main event got my blood boiling, and had me hot and ready for the main show.

It was just as exhilarating as you would expect.

One of Lelith's Succubi crossing blades with her was precisely as mind-blowing as you would think. I was so grateful that I possessed senses to follow the grim toing and froing in the arena, especially with the smaller skirmishes that rounded the whole experience up, commencing around the main duel. Yvraine, the challenger, was something to behold - she even managed to hit Lelith once!

My heart was beating fast, and my cheeks were glowing with excitement. I certainly understood why the Drukhari loved the arena fights so much, and why Lelith was such a mistress in those arts.

The duel lasted.

My blood was boiling. This fight was not an open-and-shut case! The Queen seemed to have found an equal match. I was enamoured with the show in front of me, completely lost in the moments of entrancing duelling.

The irony was, it all would have been over for me, if not…

It was a feeling Vect was all too familiar with: the tingling of danger down his spine, tensing up his scalp, curling his muscles, making him ready to strike against an unknown enemy.

It took him a few seconds to correctly label the type of danger: there was an amassing of psychic powers coming, like a growing shadow in his mind, shooting him into a state of high alertness. Psionics as powerful as these meant a tear in reality so big it would cause a Dysjunction and that meant chaos, destruction and daemons all over Commorragh.

Yes, the feeling was strong, much stronger than anything he had felt - with one exception, namely the impending Fall.

This was it. This was what he and Urien had been waiting for, and it took the form of a new deity born, right in the heart of Commorragh. It was about to happen in the next minute or so. Something down in the Crucibael. Improbability concentrated on one point in space and time. The converging of powers beyond his control.

He slightly bared his fangs and gave a low hiss.

Vect knew what all this meant. It was something he had learnt in his long life, and it certainly had kept him alive at a lot of occasions. The feeling when the hairs at the back of his neck stood up. Actual danger.

As exhilarating as the feeling was, the knowledge that he had to truly strain his wits to deal with this, he knew that this was one of these times when it was best to be somewhere else - and fast.

I winced visibly as my master suddenly barked, "Get distance to the Crucibael, FAST!" There was an urgency to his voice I never had heard before. I immediately knew that this was serious.
I wanted to know what was going on, but knew better than to intrude. If something unsettled the Supreme Overlord of Commorragh so much that he found it wisest to retreat quickly, you did not ask questions.

And. Right. He. Was.

A minute after he had given the command - and the ziggurat being well away from the Crucibael - a bright light hit the arena, nesting itself in Yvraine's forehead. She began to scream in tones I had never heard before. I was shaken to my core, and I had thought not much could faze me anymore. Her screams were filled with agony and… wonder. Her eyes turned a glowing white and she floated several metres into the air.

Then, the explosion hit. I could feel it in my entire body. My nose began to bleed.

The ziggurat was shaken violently, and I instinctively braced myself by grabbing the edges of my master's throne, even though I cut my hands on the sharp edges. I was sure that if the Overlord had not decreed it to move away, it would have crashed into the arena below.

The screens on the ziggurat blacked out, and it was impossible to know what was happening down there - only the choir of terrible screams from below, even audible through the thick walls of the flying fortress, told the story.

The Overlord continued barking orders, having the crew steer the shaking and buckling construct back to the top of Corespur. It surely felt like it was barely holding together.

I now understood it. This had to be what he had been so preoccupied with all along. He had seen this catastrophe coming, somehow. No wonder he had been so tense and stressed these past months!

I was terrified. I never had seen my master so worried.

Of course, it was a minimal line in his face which you could only spot if you had seen and known him for a while, but I knew that this particular furrow of his brow was something I had never seen before. I kept quiet, and out of the way, squeezing myself against the throne, conscious not to be underfoot while the crew was pacing about nervously, yet decisively.

Eventually, we reached the tower, and I followed my master like a ghost, into the Scrying Chamber, where he continued to bark orders, organising Commorragh as best as he could, rallying his forces against a foe that had no name and face.

I huddled against the throne, feeling as small as never before, while forces moved around me that were far too large for me to comprehend, watching with terror as the scrying mirrors grew dark one by one.

The only bastion of calm that I had in all this turmoil, was the aura of grim determination my master oozed out of his every pore.
I hoped he was on top of this - because if he was not, I was just as doomed as the rest of the Dark City.

This was it. Now or never.

Barely had Lelith avoided being devoured by Yvraine's ascension. It took all of her exceptional skill to dodge the impossible and the divine. Everything was a blur of motions, lights and sounds, even for her. In these moments, she dissociated from her body to block out the devouring pain the psychic waves of the emerging goddess brought. Those that never had mastered this skill, were paralysed with pain and helplessly were torn apart by the psychic chaos that raged in the Crucibael.

Though even Lelith could not shake off the shock entirely, she drank from her own fear and boosted her prowess, propelling herself out of the deadly arena in an act so stunningly acrobatic, it gave some that were paralysed one last glimpse of perfection before they perished.

What she regretted most was that she could not finish that haughty Yvraine. The irony was crushing. She had felt that something was in the air, that a great change was coming, her suspicions resting on Asdrubael's sinister plans. Now there was a new player around and time would tell how this player would fare. Time to see how Asdrubael handled this opponent. If anything could spite him, it was the divine.

For now, Lelith knew all she could do was retreat.

Considering that the whispers she had caught had also spoken of a new power with new challenges in store rising, she would wait and see. Before seeing Yvraine's ascension, she had thought those whispers spoke about Asdrubael finally doing what he had always wanted, namely ascending to godhood and to undisputedly rule forever. It seemed as if those plans were off the menu for him. Served him right for wanting to backstab her!

Maybe this new deity was worth giving a shot, because for the fracture of a second, she had not felt She-Who-Thirst's grip on her essence. It had been the freest moment of her life. She wanted more of that. She needed more of that.

Flashing a vicious smile, she somersaulted onto a passing jetbike, its unfortunate rider swiftly kicked out of the saddle, to plummet to his death deep down below in the surge of psychic energy.

As Lelith sped towards the heavens, she was aware that the decision she had milled over for years had been made now. Time to leave Commorragh and Asdrubael behind, and see what Yvraine had in store.

I hope I gave Lelith's arc a somewhat satisfying end. I had different plans for her, but canon fucked me over on this one, I gotta admit. I had to restructure quite a lot of the story to make Yvraine fit into the entire thing.

As usual, I hope some of you will let me know whether you liked it!

Have a good one.

Cheers,
Shâtî