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Marina smiled a bit in her sleep as she lay on the bed... and Zerrex lingered a few moments longer before turning and leaving, brushing his hair back before carefully closing the door behind himself. Then he turned and left his quarters, emerging into the hallway with the damaged pillars and surprised to find the group of Dragokkaren that were currently camped out and looking at him with awe.

They blushed deeply and bowed, a few of them in uniform, a few in traditional clothes, and some in what would be called plain clothes in the civilized world... and Zerrex guessed that if Narrius had managed to do anything good for Hez'Ranna, it was bring in far more trade and cause the economy to flourish... even if that was just an accident of his great war on the entire world.

Zerrex nodded to them respectfully... then carefully made his way through the throng of camped-out soldiers to the doors... and was unsurprised to find out many others had set up bases around the Ring. He paused to glance up... and saw soldiers all lined up, apparently facing three other figures... and Zerrex halted in his attempt to force his way through the crowd one way, and instead turned to go in the other direction, muttering under his breath. "Of course Churchill has to give some great speech to the masses..."

People don't learn very fast, that's all. Drake said in an ironic voice, and Zerrex gave a slight grin at this before staring as a female soldier ground herself against him as he passed... before his grin widened and he winked at her as she tossed him a wave. She'd definitely taken on more of Cherry's characteristics than were probably meant to... and then he coughed and carefully stepped over a small child who stared up at him in awe from his position on the ground, murmuring an apology as he continued to wend his way towards the door and again wondering if he'd really done such a kindness in causing all these soldiers to defect. War, after all, wasn't just about killing your enemy as fast as possible... but economics and politics as well.

The stairwell, thankfully, was empty... and Zerrex made his way quickly up to the floor above, pushing his way through the double doors and wincing a bit as he remembered this was also where he'd kicked Churchill's ass the first time through. He paused as he noted all the soldiers currently in attendance were rebels, as well... and he carefully pushed his way through their ranks as Churchill's voice rang out proudly through the hall, soldiers looking at him with surprise, a few with amazement... and a few just with irritation. "This is our day of pride, soldiers... the day that we have finally seen the fruits of our efforts spring forth, the day when we have finally made a successful attack against the enemy and crushed their spirits, their pride, and their forces. The capital of Hez'Ranna is within our grasp, and soon we shall seize it in our grasp and... and we our honored by the forerunner of our campaign being present!"

Zerrex blinked, and then the soldier drew back from around him as Churchill pointed at him with a grin and probably a bit of retribution, and the Dragokkaren said firmly: "Lord Zerrex has returned to us after days spent inside the enemy's territory, sizing up their strength and then attacking them at their most vital points... not only annihilating the enemy's genetics facilities, but destroying the fearsome RED Unit Commanders and freeing hundreds of thousands of soldiers from Narrius's brainwashing. No longer does the Patriarch hold the upper hand... now we, and all the other rebels like us scattered throughout Hez'Ranna... will not only be able to join together and unite to form one coalition of righteous vengeance, but we are on equal ground with him, if not greater! The entire world backs us, not him, and his forces are disorganized and demoralized, scattered and without their commanders to guide them... all of this thanks to your efforts, and the hero who has proven himself again and again, Lord Zerrex!"

Oh, this is cheesy. And horrifying. Zerrex winced as the soldiers clapped politely and he made his way to where the three Dragokkaren were clustered, Albatross rolling his eyes and Huck grinning, apparently not understanding that it now looked like Zerrex had come all this way just to get pointed out... and thus plenty of the soldiers here likely now hated his guts. Churchill, of course, looked cheerful and righteously amused, obviously understanding that he'd just scored a major point for 'regaining his supremacy' from the Drakkaren who he obviously still loathed.

The reptile made his way to the front... then he coughed and shook Churchill's hand, making the much-larger Dragokkaren wince when he squeezed much harder than was necessary. "Thanks... Church." A glare that Zerrex ignored as he cleared his throat and turned to the soldiers, wincing as the large Dragokkaren slapped him a few times on the back and saying mildly: "But what I did wasn't anywhere near as important as the bravery you soldiers have displayed in your continuous defiance of the Patriarch and your attacks on Uroboros... many a time you have all proven your bravery, torn down the walls of the capital, and withstood barrage after barrage of attack... and you all are far more deserving of praise than myself." He paused as he felt a few of the soldiers looking at him with a bit less coldness and more calculation, apparently trying to decide if he was honest or not.

"But I'm sorry if I've interrupted... I only came here to steal away Commanders Huckleberry and Albatross for a routine debriefing on the information I've gained from my infiltration of the city." He paused and smiled, bowing to the crowd and then glancing up at Churchill, saying pleasantly: "So please, continue your speech, Colonel-General."

Churchill twitched and glared at the hidden insult in the mix of the ranks, clenching his fist at his side as he implied that the Dragokkaren had no clue whatsoever what was actually going on in the military or how the rankings even worked. Then he turned and jerked his head to the two Dragokkaren... and Huck motioned to a door at the other side of the room, and the three made their way towards it and slipped through as Churchill began to speak again in a slightly lower tone than before.

They slipped into a wide hallway beyond... and the moment the doors were closed, Huck cackled and Albatross sighed and leaned against the wall as the larger Dragokkaren bounced back and forth on his heels, grinning stupidly as he slapped Zerrex on the shoulders. "Nice work, Boss! You really fucked up Church's flow there... and thank God you got me out of there. I hate standing there and lookin' all fuckin' pretty or some shit like that." He shivered and made a disgusted face. "Him and his speeches. Irritating shit, really is."

Zerrex nodded, looking distastefully at the closed fire doors as he rubbed at the swastika tattoo on his arm, muttering: "That's always pissed me off, to be honest... I'm sure Narrius does the same thing with his solders, but more cursing and calling them worthless than praising them with political nonsense words and catchphrases." He paused, then glanced over at Albatross, adding in a quieter voice: "And so did you discover anything on Mengele's laptop, or were you dragged away too fast?"

"I still have it in here." Albatross looked faintly amused as he gently patted the large back pocket on the back of his uniform, which was probably big enough to hold a few boxes of shells, but was currently occupied only by the slim laptop of the now-deceased geneticist. "Huck and I just had enough time to disarm before Churchill found us and dragged us up here to stand on display with him... I don't think he realizes we're just doing this to humor him more than anything else anymore. He's no longer a base commander, nor a Colonel or a General of the GA... but when he's not boring the troops, he can sometimes at least get their morale up."

Zerrex nodded again, then he brushed his hair out of his eyes as he turned his attention back to Huck, who was relaxing now against a wall and fiddling a bit with his handgun, which looked like it had jammed somehow. "And what about the excess soldiers? They're kinda everywhere..."

But Huck grinned wide at this, glancing up as he wiggled the slide and caused an unused bullet to fall out of the receiver, where it had managed to lock up the entire weapon. "Oh, we're great. Right now we're just setting up some tents outside..." He paused, then winked. "These dudes are prepared as shit, though. Apparently your Queen Cherry had a secret protocol set up with some of the children's commanding officers in case of your arrival... they led groups of soldiers into some of the weapons storehouses and ran off with some magnetic field generators. We set them up to cover our base in a medium-range force field that metal can't penetrate through, since we've got no artillery... likewise, we won't even be able to like, walk through it or whatever if any of our dudes have any kind of metal weapons on them... but they'll be able to stop anything short of heavy explosive artillery.

"Basically, we're pretty set in terms of defense now... sure, the generators are pretty obvious and probably could be taken on by some lucky shots or a bomb-car, but they generate such a powerful electromagnetic field that they'll create a sorta... shock effect on an artillery shells that come towards us, compressin' the explosive heads and setting them off in midair." He grinned widely. "It's some pretty slick shit, really."

Zerrex looked at Huck blankly, losing his concentration and for some reason thinking instead only of how damn hungry he was, then he shook his head and asked dumbly: "What?"

"Fuck you." Huck rolled his eyes, groaning and grabbing his head before holstering his handgun with a sigh. Zerrex blushed a bit, rubbing the back of his head as Huck sighed and knitted his fingers together, looking musingly back and forth before adding mildly: "Otherwise, we're pretty good. We've got a mess tent set up outside, and we're going to perform a few raids on Uroboros and beg around the farms for anyone who sympathizes with the rebels, get them to give up some extra goods if they have the stuff to spare. Toiletries and stuff will be pretty nasty too, for a while, until we get like... some sort of super bathroom built, but as it is, we've got a few outhouses and portable toilets set up outside, and I'm sure they've all been trained for jungle combat, too."

The Drakkaren nodded slowly once more, then looked over at Albatross to see if he had anything to say. The one-eyed Dragokkaren only made a face for a few moments however... then he sighed and shrugged a bit. "I don't know if our defenses are really as stable as Huck likes to brag... the shield only half-covers us, leave us exposed from behind. It creates a half dome... and there's the problem of being unable to counter the enemy as well.

"But what's really bothering me is that we're going to be using up our stock of food damn fast... we've had to divide up our rations pretty sparsely, and we only have enough for a few months with all these soldiers." He paused and laughed a bit. "I will admit, however, that we've already been able to establish contact with all the other rebel bases over CB frequencies and then switched to private military codec... and they're all pretty thankful for the boost of soldiers as well. We have a few information techs working their asses off in the tower, talking with the other rebel bases... but there aren't a lot of other camps."

Albatross stopped and shook his head, murmuring quietly: "Remember, in all of Hez'Ranna, there's only maybe... twenty major city centers, and a few other scattered settlements through the jungle. All of these, of course, are reinforced with clone soldiers and military personnel... although many of them are basic infantry and almost all of their specialized units are shipped in from Uroboros, although a few of the other major military centers also have their own breeding facilities and genetics labs.

"Otherwise, most of the other major cities are guarded and patrolled by tanks, combat armors, and basic military infantry..." Albatross paused. "However, we have as-yet unconfirmed information that Narrius has deployed almost all of his heavy military vehicles out to other countries... he's using them to lay heavy attack and put pressure on other cities, which explains the lack of military vehicles in Uroboros itself.

"Unfortunately, we also received a pretty serious warning." Albatross made a face, and even Huck solemned from the half-taunting he'd been doing of the blue Dragokkaren, going from flapping his arms and making wide arm gestures to resting back against the wall. "Almost all of Narrius's remaining combat vehicles have withdrawn into a defensive formation in the city... and the rest are being loaded up and prepared for transportation with teams of Enforcers, and they're apparently heading here." Albatross said quietly. "Worse still, it appears that most of the other rebel encampments have been under constant attack... and many of them are just small groups of soldiers in tents in no-radar zones, or groups of civilians gathering in woodsheds and the outer limits of mostly-unguarded settlements.

"And Narrius has also disappeared completely off the radar with his private military force... even the spies left in Uroboros can't find any trace of him, and we've had no messages from them whatsoever... which his bad, because I told the guys in the office upstairs to contact me the moment they heard even a rumor from one of our infiltrated soldiers about the Patriarch's whereabouts." Albatross shook his head slowly, then he fixed Zerrex with a look and gave a bit of a grim smile. "He's not the kind to lay up in a bunker, is he?"

Zerrex snorted and shook his head, saying softly: "Not at all, no. If he's vanished off the map, then he's probably got some nasty plan in mind... what other defensive options do we have?"

"Squads deployed to patrol the tunnels beneath us and report back at the first sound of trouble, we've now got access to soldiers in type five shell armor overlay that are patrolling the outer limits around the wide dome of the shield..." Huck said slowly. "And that shit'll stand up to a direct hit from a mortar and only leave a few bruises on the guy inside. It's also got a thermal suit inside it so they're safe from extreme heat and cold, too."

"I positioned soldiers on the roof to watch the area with thermal goggles and standard military binoculars, too, for any incoming... whatever." Albatross added mildly, then he paused and glanced over at Huck. "And big guy here wants to get the rail cannon working again, and start a communications line and see if we can build a supply route between ourselves and the other rebel encampments stationed nearby."

Zerrex nodded a bit, resting back against the wall and sighing softly, shaking his head and frowning as he looked at the floor. "It doesn't make sense..." he paused, then glanced up at the two and smiled a bit. "But... I guess I also owe you two an apology for messing your heads up earlier..."

"Fuck that." Huck said airily, blushing a bit and waving a hand. "We acted like assholes, Lord Zerrex, that's all it comes down to. We pushed you into a corner, and you just reacted, that's it."

"I should have been a bit more tactful." Albatross admitted mildly, then he traded a lame look with Huck before turning his gaze back towards him, adding: "We didn't really... think of you, just of the nephilim inside you. Worried that he controlled you or-" And then his single lavender eye widened in shock as Zerrex felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders, and something loom up over him and a black muzzle appear near his features, along with several long white locks composed of white energy.

Drake's body curved up out of his back, and he could feel the darkness trailing down his spine to connect with his dark-energy pants as Zerrex sighed and crossed his arms, and the dark nephilim said mildly - as always in a dark-cloned form of Zerrex: "You know, I have feelings too, and that really hurts them. I recognize I have my flaws and I can be a bit of a prick at times... but I've done a lot for Zerrex here, too."

"Sorry." The Drakkaren muttered, rubbing the back of his head and blushing a bit as Albatross and Huck continued to stare in shock and perhaps terror at the creature leaning out of Zerrex's back, and continuing to grin and look at them with black, hungry eyes. "When I was attacking the Patriarch's facilities, I... picked up the other half of Drake, since he was cut into two." Zerrex didn't feel like going into the details of exactly where that other half had been stored, but winced at the look the two Dragokkaren gave him, raising his hands. "Hey, it was the only way to get him to stop eating at my brain! He wouldn't shut up until I snagged the other chunk of him... and he's agreed to help in return for me snagging his physical half."

"True." Drake muttered and looked disconsolate as he leaned on Zerrex's shoulders, then began to melt back into him, Zerrex tilting his head and wincing as the creature's head stayed awkwardly birthed from the side of his neck like a horrible growth, the rest of his body vanishing into the lizard's form, tendrils of darkness rolling across his scales. "So I've been helping dumbass wind his way through Hez'Ranna and deal with some of these freaks..." A pause, and he added mildly: "And believe me, I wish I could control him. Then we'd have less falling over."

A moment later, Zerrex reached up and smacked Drake's head lightly, splattering black gunk over his own cheek and the walls and causing the dark nephilim to recede completely into his body with a disgusted growl. Then Zerrex coughed and looked up at the two; Albatross seemed a bit less horrified, but Huck was still gaping dumbly as the Drakkaren mumbled a weak apology and blushed deeper. "Sorry... he's... stupid." At least I don't get beaten up by little kids.

That was a fluke! Zerrex blurted inside his own head in reply, which just made Drake snort and roll his eyes, before he looked up as Huck rose a hand and a single finger. He only continued to stare for a few moments... before asking dumbly: "Can all his body parts do that? Because um. You could be really popular with both chicks and dudes if like, y'know-"

"Oh my Gods, go play with your toys!" Albatross said disgustedly, and shoved Huck towards the fire doors as the other Dragokkaren cackled. Zerrex, meanwhile, gave both a sigh of relief and roll of his eyes, once more amazed by Huck's innate ability to break the ice in any situation... or at least say something so stupid it made any awkwardness irrelevant.

After a minute or so - the time it took Huck to control his laughter - Albatross finally glanced over at Zerrex and asked mildly: "So uh. Interruptions aside... do you have any idea of what Narrius would be planning if he's pulled back all his forces like this?"

Zerrex frowned a bit, glancing down and then shaking his head slowly. "It can't be something so small as a standard military attack using tanks and military vehicles. Sure, it can be devastating, and I'm sure it'll take him all of five minutes to recognize where our vulnerable point is... but it'd be pretty easy for us to set up a rocket defense or even prepare a counterattack that would give us the upper hand. It's too... simple for him, I guess you could say.

"I also know that Godsmite isn't complete... so he won't be able to use that against us, either." The Drakkaren shook his head slowly. "It won't be anything classic military, however, when he does attack us..."

"Those giant fuckers certainly weren't very classic military." Huck agreed, then he growled under his breath. "Bastards started destroying Uroboros, too, like they were fuckin' partying... what do you think that shit means? Have we been chasin' the phooka horse all this time? The Patriarch's even abandoned his goddamn mansion and palaces, sounds like he's pullin' a phantom act to me."

Albatross snorted at this, and the smaller lizard made a face. "No, I don't think we're dealing with any ghosts... something way more sinister than something as simple as a vanishing and reappearing act. I don't doubt he's got some secret facilities somewhere, readying some kind of quick attack." He paused and then frowned and leaned back against a wall, rubbing at his head slowly. "We have to have missed something..."

"I'll tell the soldiers to infiltrate the genetics facilities and Narrius's private labs, Estates and palaces." The one-eyed Dragokkaren said immediately, frowning a bit before he glanced over at Huck. "You think you could repair that long-range transmission hacker that some of the soldiers brought back?"

"Yeah, but we'll have to set it up in the jungle somewhere, away from the fields here... the electromagnetic field will screw with our ability to receive transmissions." Huck paused, then rubbed under his muzzle thoughtfully. "Okay, okay, yeah, I think I know what we can do. But it's gonna take us some time to get it set up."

"That's fine." Zerrex paused and laughed a bit as he rubbed at his head, before saying embarrassedly: "Where's the uh, cafeteria again? I'm getting pretty frigging hungry."

Huck snorted laughter, then he grinned and slapped Zerrex on the shoulder. "Just go back down to the ring and right out through the passage. It's near the elevator, retard. Remember how to get there?" He winked and nudged him teasingly, then glanced up at Albatross as Zerrex glared up at him. "Come on, Albossatross. You can walk with me."

"Great." Albatross said mildly, then he looked at Zerrex and nodded, tipping the bill of his cap to the Drakkaren. "I'll see you around. Take care of yourself, Lord Zerrex..." Then he paused before smiling as he dug in his pocket and pulled out a plain black cell phone. "Here, if you need to contact us for any reason, don't hesitate to call. We're already logged in the memory, along with the administrators for the various other sections of the rebel force."

"Thanks." Zerrex said gratefully, taking the phone, then he paused as a small holder formed in his waistband and the Drakkaren tucked it easily into this. Albatross noted this with a curious tilt of his head, whereas Huck was too busy bouncing impatiently from foot-to-foot like a toddler that needed to go to the bathroom.

Then he nodded to the two before making his way carefully back through the other room, walking slowly along the edge and watching Churchill run drills with the soldiers in groups, and unable to help but give a slight smile as he worked his way towards the doors: it looked more like a high school gym class than military training, as one group ran laps while the others sat around and apparently just talked, Churchill blathering all the while. Of course, Zerrex still gave a sigh of relief when he managed to slip through the doors and into the stairwell: the last thing he wanted was Churchill forcing him to lead the military training.

After a good twenty minutes, he finally managed to wend his way through the crowds and into the cafeteria, then he winced a bit at the amount of people present and how many of them were staring at him. For a few moments he stood at the head of the cafeteria... then he finally coughed and wound his way carefully through the rows of tables to the back, picking up a plastic tray and then taking his place in line with the other soldiers.

A Dragokkaren clone at the end of the line took a glance at him... looked away... then glanced back in apparent shock. Zerrex winced at this, keeping his emerald eyes away as he rolled them upwards and coughed, blushing a bit and attempting to look unimportant as he slid his tray down the thankfully self-serve line, grabbing himself a bit of salad, some bread, and grilled fish and potato salad... before frowning a bit as he picked up some plastic utensils at the end of the row. There was very little of everything here, however... and as the Drakkaren walked over to a drink dispenser, he noticed a stack of fliers, snagging one and a can of cola as he felt a strange, burning thirst in him.

He stood for a moment, then shook it off as he swallowed thickly, wincing. He really wanted some whisky... some alcohol... and he cursed quietly under his breath before forcing his attention back to finding a seat... and deciding to take a seat on the steps at the side of the cafeteria hall when he caught the hopeful gazes of almost every soldier in the hall turn towards him. The reptile sat and bowed his head silently, picking at his salad idly with his fork as he sighed a bit and closed his eyes... and after a little while, he willed the thirst away.

He'd started noticing this particular problem soon after Marina had been born, and when he'd been cutting down on his drinking because of Cindy's concerns for Marina's health. He still didn't honestly understand how those things were connected, but he'd figured it was alright: he was willing to make whatever sacrifices were needed for his wife and daughter and... youngest daughter. He smiled faintly, then lowered his muzzle a bit more, whispering quietly to himself: "And then it started."

At first he'd felt... weird. He'd developed a bit of a tremble... felt irritated more often than usual... gotten more frustrated. And there had been an odd burning in the back of his throat... a need to take a drink more and more often. But he'd resisted... and sometimes it went away for a little bit, other times it didn't, and drove him insane until he'd either given in or turned his mind to something else.

It went up and down... gotten better and worse... and Zerrex had realized he might have a bit of a problem. Sure, he'd never really gotten drunk off anything he'd poured into his system... but he had come to depend on it, maybe. He could sit and drink... and it would help him feel better, sometimes, too, and to relax... and he'd come sometimes to associate drinking with peace, perhaps, with... good things.

Once he'd realized what the route of his sudden irritability was, however, he'd felt horrified and disgusted with himself... even ashamed. He'd hated that he'd let something like this sneak up on him, that he'd become... dependant, maybe even addicted. But he'd never been able to quit entirely... and that had been another source of his shame as he'd always end up taking 'just one more drink,' that always resulted in another and another.

He quietly shoveled salad into his mouth, eating slowly as he sat back a bit on the steps, looking out over the soldiers thoughtfully before shaking his head a bit. The Drakkaren reached down, cracking the can of cola open and taking a sip from it before continuing to eat and mentally reprimanding himself for once more roaming down a path he didn't need to follow right now. I have more important things to tend to than my own failings... and I can at least manage that problem right now by keeping busy with my other urges.

He nodded to himself a bit, then paused and frowned, glancing up and muttering quietly: "So what the hell are you up to, father... literally the root of all my problems..." A pause and a cold grin. "But I guess without you I wouldn't exist..." Then he glanced down and added darkly: "But sometimes that seems like it would have been a blessing."

Narrius snorted in disgust as he walked down a steel, sterile hallway, red eyes cold as two Unseen Seers walked slowly behind him, both males covered in surgical scars and naked except for their white loincloths, rawhide bandoliers that connected into golden shoulder armors, and the tight ivory blindfolds they wore. Scientists and Enforcers alike quickly stepped out of the Patriarch's way as he approached a pair of heavy electronic doors, which slid into the walls as he entered what looked like a massive, circular control chamber, the walls clear metal looking out into a dank darkness and computer terminals circling the entire octagonal room.

He stepped down the short few steps leading into the center of the area, placing his hands on the octagon-shaped table in the center: on every angled surface it had a control panel with all manner of buttons and levers, and the center of the strange, large terminal was open, looking into a glowing white, circular core. The Unseen, meanwhile, took up their positions by the doors as Narrius tapped in a short code and pulled one of the levers, causing a holographic image of a DNA chain to appear, immediately snapping: "How long until Godsmite is completed? What's Mengele's status, why the hell hasn't it updated in more than an hour now?"

"Doctor Mengele Tstegi has been terminated." said a clear female voice, and Narrius's ruby eyes flashed in surprise, as he glanced up at the holograph of the slowly-rotating hourglass-shaped gene chain.

Narrius looked down for a moment into the white core, squeezing the sides of the terminal, and then he glanced back up with a cold grin and asked in a disgusted voice: "Was it Subject-0 that terminated him?"

"This has been confirmed as of fifty-nine minutes ago." The voice agreed, and Narrius nodded slowly, looking more-than-displeased. He shook his head, then glanced back up and focused his ruby eyes on the chain and the few bits and pieces of red on the chain that indicated damaged or inactive genes that still needed to be programmed properly.

"Fine..." he said dismissively, then hit another few buttons on the control panel before ordering: "Run a full analysis of Mengele's findings, and then enter his genetic properties into the partial reconstruction chamber." He paused, then grinned coldly. "Just rebuild his brain, it's the only part worth anything... and then extract his mental data and put it into the AI computer. The ULTIMA system can take care of the rest."

"Yes, sir." The computerized voice responded, and this was followed by a series of clicks and taps before one of the clear metal windows flickered and a diagnostics screen appeared on it. Narrius glanced over at this, then he turned his attention back to the terminal as he tapped in a few more buttons, and the genetic string fizzed out and turned into a virtual, three-dimensional map of the world.

Narrius looked over this coldly as it slowly rotated on one axis... then he snorted and shook his head at the distribution of power and global information it provided in real time from his various satellites and military centers, including population estimates, miniature damage reports, and his percentage of global control.

The last had suffered massively... and Narrius snarled at this as he barked: "Computer! Why the hell has my power suffered such a blow?"

"Riots and rebel forces have emerged internationally." the computer responded calmly. "Currently, Hez'Ranna has suffered the largest blow and suffered the greatest loss of military power and control. Also, we have confirmed that the Breeding Queen one has been terminated, which has apparently caused a revolt in military power, led by Subject-0. Rebel forces have also been noted to have increased tremendously in technological and numeric power. Current threat ratio has increased from thirty-two to eighty-five percent to Uroboros and vulnerable points have emerged in Sectors five, six, seven, nine, twelve, twenty-two and twenty-seven."

"Don't give me worthless statistics." The Dragokkaren snorted, then looked coldly up at the world map again. "What areas are giving us the most trouble?"

"Ire's inner states are heavily defended and are using missile redirection technology to interfere with artillery and long-range missile strikes, and have tank-trapping pits to halt our advance forwards." The mechanical female said calmly. "The united northern kingdoms of Kendrew and Kesteven have also posed a major difficulty, using the terrain to their advantage and tactical warfare designed to delay our soldiers' movements towards their capital. As per orders, we are deploying assassins to deal with their King and High General, codename Wyvern. Once he is eliminated, we anticipate no further delays in operations."

Narrius snorted, looking distastefully at the map as a wintery kingdom came onscreen, in the colder northern lands, protected by mountains and forest... but not entrapped by them, a short field cut around the capital cities and with small thermal signals dotting the area here and there: either soldiers or hot patches where infantry had recently been or motors and heat-retaining devices were placed. Then he hit another button, zooming back out onto the world map as he muttered: "Stupid pelts. Thinking they're superior to my forces... ridiculous. I'll simply crush the warrior tigers out of existence, then." A pause, and then he asked coldly: "What are the military statistics for that section of the world?"

"Seventy-two percent General Army, twenty percent mobile artillery, including tank and aerial bombing units, eight percent elite units; total of twenty-thousand units currently deployed and moving in a straight-line razing formation. Estimated five thousand casualties: these have not been included in these calculations." The computer replied easily. "Enemy forces estimated at thirty-eight thousand troops in total, currently attempting to maintain a defensive line to prevent penetration around its extensive borders while withdrawing all possible troops to defend its capital. Extensive bombing runs have severely damaged enemy trade lines and fortifications, however. All aerial vehicles have failed to reach the enemy capital due to anti-aircraft countermeasures, however."

The Dragokkaren made a disgusted face, then he asked darkly: "Does the enemy have nuclear capabilities? Give me a complete tactical history."

"Unknown." A pause, and then the holograph of the world faded, instead bringing up a flickering image of a male white tiger, tall and powerful, arms held out to either side and with small bone spikes sticking from the major joints: a moment later, the image flickered, and the fur, skin and flesh melted away from half the image to instead reveal the bone structure, vascular system and inner organs of the species. It began to revolve slowly on the spot, as a genetic chain appeared to the right of the tiger, revolving at the same speed as the tiger's image. "Cultural studies and genetic qualities indicate that they are more suited for melee combat: they possess similar muscular designs as Drakkai and are naturally-powerful creatures. Their behavior appears to revolve around traditional honor beliefs and a monarchy system involving rulership through power and domination; they were a natural enemy of arctic dire wolves, who possessed similar qualities and have been recorded to have clashed many times over the years, each kingdom attempting to enslave the other.

"Because of their cultural habits and the psych profile completed and assembled on their leader, known only by the name of 'Killer,' nuclear capability is possible but extremely unlikely. Their military still prefers to clash with melee weaponry and utilizes high-grade ranged weaponry and powerful offensive tactics, but tends to prefer meeting enemies with equal force instead of overpowering them through the use of advanced technology. Also, the use of explosives and artillery seems to be primarily defensive instead of offensive; Seers have also been unable to detect any strong presence of processed plutonium or uranium.

"No other serious threats have been detected in the north: one area, ruled by a rival general of Lord Killer's, was demolished by one of the loaded bomb trucks carrying a cold nuclear explosive, which also opened up the first line of battle for our soldiers to move in through. The ruler was apparently offered sanctuary by Lord Killer, but his current whereabouts and status are unknown." The female voice continued easily. Then the slowly-spinning hologram paused before vanishing, and the DNA chain instead rose in its place, expanding and pointing out certain genes. "It has been noted that the stronger members of the species possess a distinct genetic mutation that has caused a distinct bone formation our scientists have called 'thorns.'

"These bone thorns are noted to be naturally sharp and capable of both attack and defense, estimated calculations placing them at twice or greater the normal density of bone comparative to others present in the body. Currently, research teams in the northern encampments are dissecting the bodies of enemy soldiers and examining both genetic and physical data, which will be uploaded to Paradise computers through direct satellite link within twenty-four hours. Status reports and enemy evaluations are also due from commanding officers within twelve hours."

"Inform me when they're here." Narrius commanded evenly, then he tapped a short command into the computer, causing the hologram to vanish. He tapped his finger on the side of the console slowly... then asked irritably: "What's the current operational status of Paradise?"

"Currently forty-two percent active." the computer replied promptly. "Thirteen percent remains inactive due to computer and technical malfunctions; this includes the Forbidden Tree and Apple of Eden, which comprises seven percent of total systems. Paradise remains at rest in hibernation mode, with all systems functioning at minimal power instead of optimal performance; systems, however, are preparing for phase three of the activation process, and Paradise will boost to eighty percent activation within three hours, with all systems at nominal power and capability."

Narrius made a disgusted face at the technobabble, then he snorted and shook his head in distaste. "I want Paradise up and running in one hour. Bypass the safety systems."

There were a few clicks, and then the female voice replied calmly: "Command postponed until override is activated and voice is confirmed as being a Class A military officer." A pause, and then the system fizzled static as the Dragokkaren's red eye twitched. "Please speak the override command clearly and precisely with the command order."

"Code Azazel. Override main power restraints and bypass all safety systems." The Dragokkaren said slowly and calmly, but he was gripping the side of the console tightly, looking frustrated... then he reared back a bit with a wince when the lights flickered and the white core of the console went dark for a moment.

It turned back on after a few seconds, and the female voice said apologetically: "Systems have failed to initialize due to incomplete wiring in the central cortex computer system and damaged connections between the CCCS and the core nervous complex. Please reenter override command at the nearest control hub."

Narrius's face twitched again, then he snarled before turning away from the terminal and clenching his hands into fists at his sides, stomping away and heading back up the stairs as he glanced from one Seer to the next and snapping: "Come!" before shoving the metal doors open when they failed to slide apart quickly enough, causing the gears to squeal in their sockets as he stomped down the hall, followed by the two emotionless Unseen. Then he turned hard right to another electronic door, hitting a button on the wall that quickly opened it with a pneumatic hiss and glaring around at the computer- and scientist-filled room.

They immediately all stood and bowed to him respectfully, and Narrius gave them a look of disgust as he waved a hand, watching them immediately scuttle back into their desks to start working hard again, obviously terrified of any sort of reprimand from the Patriarch or his bodyguards. He looked over them with distaste, then snorted and glared furiously over the group before asking coldly: "How many of you have been working on getting Paradise up and running?"

"Sir!" five of the scientists stood up, and Narrius flicked a hand irritably in the direction of the door, dismissing them from their duties as he glanced at the two Unseen. They both shared a nod as the scientists filtered out, then followed them silently into the hall, and a moment later, shrieks of agony rose up as the shutter closed, but before it could shut completely a thick gush of blood came in through the hall and splattered against the floor and nearest console.

The other technicians paled as Narrius snorted at this, then he walked over the nearest control terminal and tapped away at the buttons for a few moments, causing the monitor to flicker from the data it was currently spilling out in code to instead switch to a black screen with the word 'ULTIMA' in the top left corner. A moment later, the Double Standard of Hez'Ranna flickered into existence, and a mechanical, simpering voice asked: "Yes, Lord Narrius, Patriarch of Hez'Ranna?"

"Ultima, override the security system on the power grid and deactivate the power monitor. I want Paradise up and running within one hour." Narrius commanded darkly. "Don't bother me with codewords, I trust you can verify my voice and the fact I'm standing right here in front of one of the terminals."

A few clicks, and then the AI computer replied smoothly: "Yes, Patriarch, I shall override the security countermeasures for you, no other verification is necessary. I'm currently accessing the core mainframe of Paradise and my estimates is that with all powerlines supplying energy at ninety percent and rerouting power from the subground stations instead of into Uroboros, Paradise will be operational within fifty-two minutes."

Narrius nodded, looking somewhat more pacified as he asked mildly: "When will the systems have stabilized enough for movement and launch?"

"I calculate roughly twenty-five minutes after systems gain full activity." Ultima responded, and Narrius sneered a bit at this; that, at least, was within the timeframe he wanted to hear. "Should I prepare all systems for the launch process?"

The Dragokkaren paused and tapped his fingers idly against the console, then he nodded slowly; the benefits definitely outweighed the risks in this situation... and most of his necessary soldiers and weapons were already safe inside Paradise, with the others deployed to guard Uroboros and the rest of Hez'Ranna for invasion or attack by the rebels. Overplaying his hand was impossible at this point, and he was certain that the rebels knew about Godsmite by now, from Mengele's interference... so he might as well put the rest of his cards down on the table and let them see for themselves how hopeless the battle was. After all, it might even make them decide to just give up, as such worthless scum should in the face of a far-superior adversary.

He smiled ruthlessly at this, then said softly: "Activate launch process, then... and also activate all Paradise-controlled underground production facilities. Gear up the labs and the Black Enforcer manufacturing facility... roll up tank production to fifty, and wake up Medusa and the Sisters, and slowly wean them off sedation." A pause. "Speaking of which, has the Blind Girl's body arrived?"

"Analysis of her body and the chemical composition of her petrified state is currently being analyzed." Ultima said after a moment of clicking. "A full report on the composition of her body is due within the hour."

Narrius nodded again, then he crossed his arms and asked coldly: "That leaves one last little bit of business, regarding Subject-0... how well have he and Drake fused together?"

Ultima paused for a long moment; either an AI reaction or the machine pulling together several silent calculations. Then the screen flickered before displaying two genetic codes side-by-side, saying evenly: "The dark nephilim and Subject-0, judging from security footage and energy measurements taken during moments of conflict, show at least seventy-five percent mental assimilation and fifty percent physical combination. Symbiosis has developed to at least stage three, with a possibility of having already reached stage five, where both beings have started to take on each other's characteristics and physical abilities, as well as experiencing mixed emotions and sensations.

"Better data will be produced after Subject-0 is located and scanned by high-accuracy magnetic resolution satellite: currently attempting to target Subject-0 utilizing genetic scanners from orbiting satellite relays." Ultima paused again, then made a few more mechanical whirrs before adding plainly: "Would you like me to build a composite of Subject-0?"

Narrius tapped his fingers slowly, then he shook his head and replied irritably: "No, but inform me when you have his exact location and lock on to him, so that we can target his relative location to Paradise and prepare to deal with him by whatever means necessary." He paused, then asked: "Where are the scientists currently analyzing the Blind Girl?"

The screen immediately flickered, bringing up a small map. "She is currently being held in the systemic biology labs, on level five. Shall I inform them of your imminent arrival or interest in the project?"

"No, I'll go and pay a visit now, best to let them be surprised." Narrius responded with a slight, cold grin, then he turned and left, saying idly over his shoulder: "Keep working, Ultima. I'll pay a visit to you in person later on."

"Thank you, Lord Patriarch." simpered Ultima, sounding almost sickeningly happy as the Dragokkaren turned and paused in front of the shutter, then the machine added quickly: "Allow me, Patriarch."

Then the shutter slid open, and Narrius stepped out into the hall, glancing idly over the butchered bodies of the scientists that were already being carefully bagged up by staff in grey uniforms, a few others in the same sterile outfit mopping up the blood mindlessly and nodding respectfully to the Patriarch when he stood out. The other Unseen, meanwhile, were standing ready, blood splattered on their bodies and soaked into their loincloths, and the Dragokkaren glanced idly over them before asking the maintenance staff mildly: "So exactly what are you doing, wasting time with this useless shit? It only takes one of you to clean up a set of bodies, last time I checked, and one to mop up the blood on the floor."

The blank-faced Dragokkaren looked up at their master, then nodded before three of them turned and walked away from the tasks they had been doing, their faces still expressionless. Narrius watched them with dry entertainment, then he snorted quietly; brainwashed soldiers were only so useful, after all... but servants who had undergone brain alterations really pushed the line between useless and worth some little value. But it was better to give Enforcers or dedicated soldiers who failed in a mission or exam some sort of job that would make them feel like they were doing something for their country than just kill them and leave them rotting... if, of course, they could even feel anything after being lobotomized and reprogrammed with a simple 'domestication' machine that sat in its place.

The Patriarch buffed his claws against his shirt, turning his attention to the nearest expressionless janitor and glancing down at him mildly, then he kicked him hard in the stomach, causing the uniformed Dragokkaren to flop on his side and spasm a bit as Narrius said mildly: "Double-time, worthless shit. By the time I get back here, I want this hallway sparkling, or no rations for the rest of the week for you and the rest of your scrawny crew." In reality, of course, Narrius would decide on whim whether or not he wanted to feed the servant-class Dragokkaren... they never whined about not getting any food, after all. "Now hurry your ass up."

Then he turned and shoved his way past the other servile reptile, knocking him into the wall as he clutched his mop close and stared blankly at the ground, waiting for the Unseen to pass as well before once more slowly going about his work, as his fellow worker began to drag away a corpse to the nearest dump chute, both of them emotionless and empty; puppets that served Narrius's every whim.

Of course, the Patriarch had already put both drones out of his mind, as he strode quickly towards the elevator at the end of the hall with the Unseen at either side. One of them stepped forwards and hit the button for him as they approached, and Narrius shot the guard a dark look, causing him to swallow and draw back as he said coldly: "Don't overstep your bounds, and don't patronize me. Or I'll tear you apart."

The Unseen nodded as the doors clicked open, and then the three stepped into the empty elevator, Narrius hitting the button for the fifth level labs without bothering to look. After a few moments of descent, the lift halted, then the doors slid open and revealed another stainless-steel passage, which Narrius quickly strode down, then paused and glanced up at the BOW insignia above a pair of heavy black double doors. He nodded, and the Unseen opened these for him, permitting Narrius to step into the small room beyond.

It was a sort of plain dressing room, and the Patriarch glanced with distaste at the medical gowns, face coverings, and other odds and ends on the wall before approaching the airlock and hitting the button to open it: the Unseen had strict orders not to follow him in here, even if it hadn't taken more than a silent glare of his ruby eyes to give it. Instead, they stood outside, guarding the doors leading into this laboratory section to prevent anyone from entering or exiting while Narrius performed his personal inspection of the facility. He snorted at this euphemism, as he tapped the button to open the clear metal, sealed door in front of him, then he stepped into the airlock and crossed his arms with distaste.

The gate slid back shut behind him, hissing shut as it resealed itself, then the vents on either side of the wall of the cubical airlock opened, and a combination of air, pure oxygen, and bacteria-killing agents was blown into the room with a gushing roar, which was overlaid with the hum of fans that ruffled Narrius's pristine suit and blew the air down towards filters at ground level. After thirty second or so of this, the purifying system halted, and a moment later the clear metal shutter in front of the Dragokkaren slid open and the Patriarch stepped out of the airlock, brushing idly at his suit as he stepped into a cold steel hallway that was lined with windows looking into different labs and experiment rooms.

Narrius slowly made his way down the passage, glancing back and forth idly at the scientists who were working hard on their different projects, before pausing near the end of the hall and pushing through a door, stepping into a room with a group of Dragokkaren carrying clipboards clustered in front of a capsule full of clear liquid that swirled slowly around its occupant. And the Dragokkaren smiled slightly at this, his eyes narrowing as he asked in a calm, easy voice: "How have things been going with the restoration?"

Several of the scientists jumped, and the project leader spun towards Narrius with something like shock before he forced a smile, pulling off his facemask and bowing respectfully. "Patriarch Narrius... so good of you to drop by..." he murmured, then paused and added in his quiet voice, wincing slightly: "Unfortunately, it seems that the deterioration on the Blind Girl's body is too severe to bring her back to life... we have, however, successfully discovered a way to reverse the petrifaction process..."

He paused, then motioned for the scientists to continue whatever they were doing before heading over to a nearby stone table, upon which sat a broken hunk of arm that looked as though it had come off an incredibly-detailed statue... except for the fact that many of the cracks along the arm's surface were clogged with blood, along with the shattered end of the limb. Narrius looked down at this with distaste before he said mildly: "Didn't I order that she was to be restored with as little damage as possible done to the body?"

"Yes, sir." The scientist nodded as he picked up a vial and a syringe, slowly filling it as he glanced up at the Patriarch with a flush. "The workers dropped her body carrying it in, though. Apparently the stone that composes her form had become very brittle over the years... and her brain is dead, along with several of her major organ systems. But even the loss of her limb and vital functions may be repairable, or at least we'll be able to design a puppet from her body.

"But the real breakthrough is this..." and now the scientist lowered the syringe and deftly stabbed it into the upper arm through the stony outer layering, before injecting the clear fluid: and a few moments later, the area of the arm he'd stabbed twitched, then slowly turned from stone back to flesh, slowly spreading along the arm as Narrius tilted his head, looking only mildly curious at best. The scientist, however, watched the process with complete enthrallment before looking up at the Patriarch and smiling. "See? We've engineered a new substance called GR-32. It literally has the capability to reboot augmented genes and restore the original format of the genetic coding by replacing and rewriting genes that show any trace of synthetic DNA..."

Narrius nodded at this, then he said softly: "But you disobeyed my orders." A pause as the scientist stared at him... then he screamed when Narrius's arm lashed across the table, seizing him and dragging him forwards as the Dragokkaren added coldly: "And today especially, is not a day where I appreciate being crossed."

The scientist grabbed at the Patriarch's wrist, trying to pull away... then Narrius grinned darkly as his hand crackled with electricity, causing the leader of the project to scream, jerking backwards several time as his body began to smoke, his legs jittering and his bladder letting go as his body convulsed with agony, then the Dragokkaren looked at him with disgust before the electricity turned from blue-tinged to white, snapping back and forth over the scientist's body in long arcs before Narrius simply opened his hand and let the dead geneticist fall to the ground in a smoldering heap, smoke leaking from his eyes and gaping, twisted mouth as his scales sparked lightly. He snorted, then wiped his hand against his jacket in distaste before glancing up at the group of remaining scientists, taking in their expressions of horror. "You... Renault. You're project leader now."

"Sir." The Dragokkaren nodded, trembling a bit and bowing slightly, then he asked in a squeaky voice: "What are your commands... Lord Patriarch, sir?"

"Dispose of this garbage." Narrius placed a foot on the body of the scientist he'd just killed, twisting his heel and looking down at it with distaste before glancing back up to Renault and continuing idly: "I also want you to continue the analysis of the Blind Girl... if her nerves are still intact and she hasn't suffered too much damage from this idiot's miserable failings, then prepare her body for rewiring and mechanical design. And get rid of this, too." He made a face, reaching out and shoving the tray that the arm rested on off the metal table, spilling it and the syringe onto the floor with a clatter, before he paused and picked up the vial, looking idly down at it.

He was silent for a few moments, then asked slowly: "Where did this come from? The label isn't from this lab..."

"Apparently it was developed by one of Dr. Tstegi's understudies, after he took some of his research... um..." Renault trembled as he shuffled through his clipboard quickly, then he said faintly: "Unfortunately, he was killed in the riots... but his data was kept on the military computer mainframe, so it should all be uploaded to Paradise..."

Narrius nodded, then he left without a word, tucking the vial into his pocket and heading out of the lab, a slow grin beginning to spread over his features; he thought he might have just found the last piece of the puzzle he needed to complete his plans for destruction... and how he'd be able to ensure the death of his renegade son.

He strode quickly through the halls, then exited the BOW Division and crossed the hall into an empty office. He sat down at a computer behind a desk, then tapped several buttons, bringing Ultima onscreen and asking coldly: "What's the status of Black Requiem and my son?"

A hesitation... and then the AI said slowly: "Black Requiem was terminated during the defense of your private Estate... and the status of Eve is currently unknown." Another long pause, then the screen flickered and showed Marina's bedroom from the view of a hidden camera... and the Patriarch's red eyes widened in shock as he saw the bloodstained blankets of the bed... blood and... something else... then a moment later, the camera rewound and a security recording began to play out of- "Imagery confirms Subject-0 and Marina... and the abortion of your-"

Narrius snarled furiously, then he grabbed the flat monitor and tore it out of the terminal, turning and hurling it across the room as he shouted: "Don't play with me, Ultima! Don't show me such fucking filth when I make a location request!" Then the Dragokkaren spun and slammed his fists down into the computer's control board, smashing it in as electricity sparked from his hand, his suit tearing slightly at the seams as his muscles bulged, his teeth gritting in fury, animal snarls rising in his throat before he raged: "Fuck!"

Zerrex glanced up from where he sat, feeling a strange tremor in the air... then he shrugged and sighed as he continued to eat his grilled fish with a look of distaste. It probably wasn't anything important, after all... but he couldn't shake off a feeling that something relatively important had just happened. He paused for a few more moments... then shrugged again and glanced down at the food on his tray, moving it around idly and then forcing himself to continue eating, even though he wasn't really hungry anymore. He recognized, however, that he needed the energy... and that he couldn't afford to waste any food here, with everyone down to rations and the soldiers not fortunate enough to have passes for the mess hall likely only getting the equivalent of one meal a day.

The Drakkaren rolled his shoulders slowly as he sat back on the steps, continuing to watch the other soldiers idly, trying to find some peace in their behavior, their laughter and cheer. So many of them were grinning - clones and not alike - and almost everyone looked like they were in a good mood... it really was a wonderful thing to see. He paused and smiled a bit as he rested back, taking another slow sip of his cola and then shaking his head slowly as he remembered the speech he'd given earlier... before the attack.

Back then, he'd said there were no winners in war... but he didn't really believe that. Sure, it wasn't like winning a game, or winning a prize... but the cold, hard truth of it was that there was. To the victor go the spoils, and in this case, it was not only being granted the chance to live and survive and prosper... but to restore some sort of civilization and tranquility to a world that had been saturated with chaos for far too long.

Even this war would have a victory, although likely a hollow one... except Zerrex didn't think that the civilized world would be pushing on Hez'Ranna again anytime soon. He glanced down, closing his eyes and thinking idly back in the past, remembered sitting at the door as his father held meetings in the conference rooms of the Estate to discuss tactics and military movements with his fellow Commanders... the people he'd always thought of as his 'inferiors.'

With Narrius, it always came down to the same thing: wipe them out. Not simply 'defeat the enemy' or 'force the enemy to withdraw,' but instead a much plainer, worlds more ruthless tactic: destroy them. He'd never had a problem simply commanding his soldiers to use whatever means necessary to exterminate the opposing forces like they were cattle to be slaughtered... and he hated himself for this... but it was the only quality of his father that he'd liked. No, never his method and means - once Narrius had used Agent X, an inflammatory agent, to kill a group of soldiers below an orphanage... which had also killed all the children and patrons in the building above - but... his coldness in battle. And Narrius... as much as he hated everything about him... could never be called a coward.

The Drakkaren smiled grimly at this, glancing down and quietly eating the last few bits of salad, then he paused and bowed his head. His father was terrible and monstrous... and none of his qualities were quote-unquote 'good,' but he had never been a coward. Zerrex despised that fact about Narrius, that he was just too ruthless or maybe too animal to feel fear, know and recognize what it was; and he knew that the Dragokkaren also had a long, decorated career that put his own Goth Legion experiences to shame.

If he remembered correctly, Narrius had first been rumored to have joined with a gang in Hez'Ranna more than... a century ago, perhaps, and built up his own private platoon. He knew nothing of Narrius's parents or home, or anything else about his father: he only knew that he had grown up here, with his brother Requiem, and he'd been born into a family that had taken the position of aristocrats... but Narrius's original home had been the dark jungle of the Cradle of Life.

Drake grunted at this, and Zerrex glanced up as he muttered: You know, there's an old Hez'Ranna legend about the Narrius family that emerged over the years of his rule... it came to surface because Hellabos - at this time, obviously working for Narrius - ordered the destruction of all hard copies of birth records over a hundred years old. Narrius's were eradicated, presumably... but everything was updated to electronic by this time, and these even Narrius can't destroy with the internet and how easy it's become to access information on all levels, from anywhere, with the proper skills and knowing where to go and what to do.

So you're interested. Drake said mildly, then he nodded a bit mentally to the Drakkaren, before saying quietly: Since you're in a crowded area, I'm not going to cut you out of reality for more than a few seconds. This might hurt... but the full story is only going to take less than a minute. It's a bit long though, so... bear with me, and try to put up with the pain. He paused, then asked awkwardly: Are you okay with that?

Zerrex smiled slightly at this as he finished off his grilled fish, then he glanced down at the tray and blinked: he didn't remember eating the potato salad, but apparently he'd devoured it, because there was nothing there. Then he shrugged and put the tray aside, taking a sip of his cola and murmuring under his breath: "Thanks. I am... just give me a moment."

He paused, then closed his eyes and laced his fingers together, and inside Zerrex's head, Drake twitched away in shock, muttering: That's...

Shut up. Zerrex said mentally, but his voice was gentler than might be expected, as he squared his shoulder and took a deep breath before forcing his body to relax. Immediately, however, Drake began to squirm, and the Drakkaren asked in a sharper voice: The hell's your problem?

You can't do that with me in your head! Drake replied in a frustrated voice, apparently mentally clawing at himself. You're trying to create an opposing process... doing that could literally squish me out of existence! And where the hell did you learn that, anyway?

"It's one of Requiem's forbidden martial techniques." Zerrex murmured under his breath, then he sighed and relaxed, rolling his shoulders and letting go of the focus he'd started, feeling his mind working a bit faster nonetheless. "But alright, Drake. You take point then, and lead me on this little journey. Looks like I can't be using this trick with you symbiotically connected to me, then."

Bastard. Drake muttered, but he sounded a bit impressed nonetheless. A few moments later, however, Zerrex felt his mind twist as a flare of pain went up in his head, before he plummeted out of reality and into a black, white and red world of the past.

The Dragokkaren and Drakkaren are all in traditional dress, but not made of the rawhide, processed material that Zerrex has seen on the others in his tour of Uroboros and this strange country. Instead, these clothes - dirty, ragged, but far more durable-looking - made their future counterparts look almost like tawdry, cheap imitations, with their hanging strings and beads.

Many of the Dragokkaren wear jewelry - and spotted with jungle-debris or not, it still looks more expensive and more beautiful than even most of the junk toted by the rich losers from Apple Villa. But these are obviously not just worn for style or flair... they are marks of status, and every one of them is twisted in sacred symbols that Zerrex somehow knows and recognizes: a bracelet in the shape of a snake, with three curves to symbolize the entrance, the path, the exit: birth, life, and death. And of course, around the neck of one Dragokkaren, hanging on a silver chain, is another golden snake, eating its own tail: infinity, Uroboros.

There are twenty or so of them in the tribe, standing near a campfire... and this is obviously one of the more nomadic bands, with their large tents and wheeled carts: some of these carts, however, look almost like moving homes instead of carriages, one of them more a moving palace than anything else, with silver-plated wheels covered in golden runes. This is obviously the home of the leader of the village, always ready to be pulled through the secret paths carved in the jungles that lead between their places of worship: the holy temples.

Zerrex understands that they move back and forth between temples that they've built, in worship to their gods, and for protection from the monsters of the wildlands here and enemy tribes. The reptile also notes that there are chained Drakkaren, naked of anything except for tattoos on their bodies that denote them as slaves - a symbol of a hand over the breast, surrounded by a twisting black line. The reptile looks at this curiously for a few moments, and then understands: eternal grip, eternally held. These slaves look miserable, locked in shackles and neck chains to one-another and one of the carts... but they don't realize that they also have an advantage over the other slaves of the world. They truly will be protected by these Dragokkaren instead of treated as expendables... and once the dishonor of being stolen away or kidnapped-slash-taken prisoner from an enemy tribe fades, they may even have the chance to prove themselves as Iuratus.

Zerrex notes that there are only two of these present... a female and a male, both powerfully-built and tall: these are the traits seen as attractive by the Dragokkaren, after all, along with impressive endowment in males and bust size in females. And also, almost all of them have red scales... but the tint is so faint in this world of blacks, and whites, that Zerrex can barely see this is fact from anything other than his brief knowledge of Hez'Ranna.

The Iuratus have silver collars on, and golden bracelets and ankle shackles... and their tattoos have been modified with three small lines on the top and bottom now cutting through the jagged circle. He looks at them curiously: they are naked except for loincloths... but kneel on the ground in front of the male Zerrex guesses is the chieftain, the male wearing the Uroboros pendant.

He also carries a spear... the same spear as Requiem has always favored, the sacred fighting spear, made of a single length of bamboo and with a plain blade. Three feathers hang from the neck of the spear, white, red and black... and Zerrex is somehow sure that these are the real colors of the feathers in reality, as well... or were, since he is in the past now, experiencing a past that may never have been. They symbolize the three traits a warrior must show to gain the privilege of undertaking a sacred quest... and only upon the completion of this quest, may he become the chieftain of the tribe. These three holy traits are strength, wisdom, and honor.

The chieftain, however, looks quiet and unnerved... a rarity, Zerrex somehow knows. His tribe all look worried as well: seven females, nine males, and four young children, three male and one little girl clinging to her mother's leg. The Iuratus are still kneeled, holding high velvety cushions: upon one sits a silver, twisted kris... and upon the other is a small cup, almost a chalice but without the handle. It almost looks like a golden bowl, but is a bit too small... and curls up a bit too high.

Finally, the chieftain turns his spear over and places it blade-down into the ground, before he picks up the kris and the cup, and the Iuratus withdraw to the other slaves. They murmur, and the Iuratus silence them quickly before bowing to their master as the chief steps around his spear and holds out both objects.

The gathered tribe immediately kneels in front of him, and they all bow their heads respectfully... and fearfully. Zerrex sees them all from his vantage point, back in the trees, easily able to see them in the clearing where they have set up their tents and gathered their carts, only a short distance away from the temple that looms overtop the others... and finally the chieftain says in a powerful voice, speaking in an ancient dialect of Hez'Rannan that Zerrex yet somehow understands: "Who will challenge the darkness that has infested our lands, our holiest temple, Nature's Womb? All Hez'Ranna, all of our sacred island, has become sick and infected... look at the dying trees which bear us no fruit, the plains that yield no game, the state of the fellow tribes and even the great village of Snake's Tooth. And it is because of the living darkness that has taken up its home in the mother of all other temples and of all our tribes.

"All fifteen of the Great Chieftains have decreed it must be destroyed... even our little brothers fear and flee from it." The chieftain paused, then sighed and rose the cup and kris above his head. "And we must first either appease this monster as a new god and turn our backs on Holy Mother Earth, appease it with an offering of the shed blood of our children... or we must take up arms against it, and a brave hero must step forwards to kill the monster."

The members of the tribe looked uneasily back and forth... then the youngest girl, clinging to her mother's leg, stepped forwards, trembling and whimpering, but forcing out as her mother kneeled behind her and looked at her with sorrow: "If no one will step forwards, then I will offer myself to the darkness... ask it to go away and allow it to take me if it so wants, for my family, for our people..."

"Mianna, don't..." whispered her mother, gripping her daughter's shoulders... but the little girl shook her head as she snuffled and wiped at her eyes.

"No Momma. I'm the smallest... I'm the weakest, and I'm sick with the Tremor, anyway." whispered the little girl, then she smiled a bit and bowed her head, kneeling in front of the chieftain. "If it will save my people, I will give my life..."

"No, no!" said one of the males, sounding outraged as he stood, gesturing violently with one arm and startling the rest of the crowd: he was a powerful, huge Dragokkaren male, with a silver necklace around his neck, several large fangs and feathers dangling from this. He also wore a long loincloth and had a kwaibar strapped to his lower back, and plain sandals over his feet... but his position was best illustrated by his silver armlets and shinguards, and the dark, twisting tattoo over his body.

He looked around at the others, then threw his arms out and said angrily to the chieftain: "Why don't we assemble our forces, assemble an army, and kill the dark creature? Why don't we all fight as one, instead of sending one to attack, pretending they are a hero, a savior, only to be killed... and that will serve only to fuel the power of the monster and crush our own spirits! Let us attack as-"

"Silence, Manore." said the chieftain firmly, but he looked at the younger male with compassion in his dark eyes. "We must follow the rules of the tribe, and the rules of honor... without them, there is nothing that separates us from the beasts and this very-"

"Damn the rules!" Manore shouted, and he turned to his fellows, looking at them imploringly as he gestured at the girl... and Zerrex realized that she was his illegitimate child. She had the same eyes... "I don't want to sacrifice another innocent... will none of you stand with me, stand and help me? Will... will no one... forget the... the rules for just... for just..."

He fell to his knees, slumping forwards, and the chieftain stepped quietly over to him, placing the kris in his belt and holding the cup in his other hand as he gently grasped the shoulder of the young warrior, who began to cry quietly and grasped the chief's hand tightly. He rocked back and forth, and the chieftain said gently: "We would just be sending an army of warriors to their deaths, and leaving our slaves and children unprotected. The darkness has been smart in taking its stronghold... the Mother Temple's entrance, after all, is just a small room at the top of the staircase, safeguarded inside stone. The monster will wait for us at the entrance, and kill our soldiers as they attempt to squeeze through in groups... and we know that we cannot lure it out from its stronghold.

"All that's left is to believe in the sacred prophecies... that when darkness comes, good will also rise from the very loins of that which craves to kill all life, and defeat it. And only one who follows the code of honor may destroy it, who meets darkness with the pure light of unyielding righteousness, of forceful honor. In a battle that all our lives hang on, between the warrior of right and the monster of wrong, the sacred clash of angel and demon.

"Long have we understood that the deepest pits of the Mother Temple were to never be disturbed, but we did not follow these teachings... and the foolish actions of one greedy child who explored too deep into the temple has released the darkness from her Womb, the deepest and darkest part of the temple." The chieftain paused and added gently. "And we are all said to be descendants of Asteroth, Mother of Hell, and our ancestors tell of coming into this world from the Holy Temple... and how they used to worship a great, evil priestess who whispered incantations that would summon night or lure the little cousins close so we, the higher species, could kill and feast upon them.

"But they also record of a great warrior, who led the others from their stupor, forced the priestess down deep into the depths of her unholy temple, and then sealed her into the sacrifice pit, where she was killed by the furious spirits of the dead. But her own raging ghost has now infected these deep places... and it has now broken free and seeks revenge.

"That is why we must follow the rules of honor written by this great warrior and his disciples. To destroy her once and for all." The Chieftain finished gently, and then he blinked when Manore stood and shrugged off his arm, before turning and heading quickly off into the jungle. "Manore!"

He stopped, then looked over his shoulder and grinned weakly. "I am sorry, but I have to leave. You're right... someone does have to kill the monster... and it may as well be me as the next warrior."

"Manore!" shouted the chief, but the Dragokkaren was already sprinting into the jungle, ducking and weaving through the trees. Zerrex, of course, realized - just as much of the rest of the tribe did - that Manore was more full of false bravado than he was of righteous intent. But at least the little girl was offered a little bit of hope, smiling quietly instead of stoically facing her impending death.

He didn't turn back... but he did slow from a run the nearer he drew to the temple, wincing and rubbing at his head as he sighed and quietly approached the goliath stone structure. Then he stopped some feet away, sitting down and resting his chin in his hands glumly, as he murmured quietly: "I'm no hero... oh give me a sign, Great Spirit... help me out here, huh?"

And as if summoned by that sign, a Dragokkaren poked its muzzle out of the bushes and peered at him, and Manore stared dumbly back at it, before sighing and muttering: "Oh, you're a Cubba... what do you want?"

The moment that Zerrex heard the word, he understood exactly why the other Dragokkaren was acting oddly, crawling forwards on all fours, naked and looking at Manore with a foolish, innocent curiosity. It was a rare Dragokkaren from the wilderness, referred to as one of the 'little cousins,' or unevolved animals... a Dragokkaren that hadn't yet evolved, but instead still had the mentality and body of an animal. It lacked wings, for one thing... and although it had larger musculature, its limbs were shaped so that it was built lower to the ground and was able to move easily on all fours.

The Cubba, however, moved curiously closer towards Manore, who looked disgusted as he stood up and rose his arms, waving them a bit as he let out a shout, apparently hoping to scare the Cubba away. It flinched back... and when its face turned towards Zerrex, he was horrified to find it had the same features as his father, yet at the same time, not exactly surprised. Narrius, after all, was far more beast than civilized being...

The Cubba, however, didn't run away. Instead, it whined lightly in its throat and pawed at the ground, apparently trying to communicate something to the larger Dragokkaren. Zerrex recognized that there must have been a lot of strange warfare between not only the other tribes, but the Cubbas as well, who he figured likely moved in packs... and who would not understand the difference between Cubba and evolved Dragokkaren, rape and love.

Manore waved and paraded around for a few moments, making himself as imposing as possible... before he finally sighed and sat down, shaking his head and murmuring: "I would have scared away half the jungle by now and scared away the other half... what do you want, little Cubba?" Manore fixed it with a cold glare, then he paused as it toddled a bit closer, looking up at him curiously. A pause... and then the Dragokkaren's eyes brightened. "I know... you want to take the place of Li, is that it? You're a gift, you're going to... that's it!"

He stood up suddenly, smiling warmly and leaning down to clap lightly, and the Cubba straightened a bit, looking up at him attentively before Manore turned and headed towards the temple. The Cubba followed, likely more out of curiosity than anything else... but once they reached the clearing of the temple, at the mouth of which swirled a great darkness, the Cubba whined in its throat and tried to draw away.

Manore, however, quickly turned and snagged its neck, jerking it forwards and muttering: "Come on, come on, just a little bit further. Up the steps, and everything can be okay again..." He stopped as the Cubba tried to draw back again... then he sighed a bit before finally smashing an elbow down into the Cubba's back, knocking it senseless to the ground. It lay stunned... and Manore hefted the creature up onto his back, then grunted and started forwards - the Cubba was bigger and bulkier than he was, but he managed to heft it up enough so that only its toeclaws dragged along the ground.

He forced himself up the stairs, climbing step after step towards the sweltering, dark jaws of the temple, shouting loudly: "Darkness! We bring a peace offering! We bring a sacrifice of... of one of the strongest warriors of the land! He has offered himself to you, for the prospect of peace... please take this offering, and let the rest of us live in peace, and we even promise one sacrifice for every year of your reign, may it be so glorious and long..."

He laughed shakily, wincing as he stepped in a puddle of blood, then forced himself to continue upwards. He was growling in pain, eyes clenched as if he was suffering a terrible migraine, and his body trembling with horrible strain... before he finally stepped up to the top of the temple, leaning forwards and throwing the Cubba into the dark mouth of the cave. It hit the ground and yelped loudly... then screeched in terror and immediately spun, attempting to run out of the mouth of the cave... but a living darkness shot forth, tendrils of blackness wrapping around the poor creature as it screamed in terror before it was dragged back into the nightmare of whatever lay beyond.

Manore covered his face, staggering down the steps and staring in horror into the darkness... and a few moments later, a dark, cruel laugh rang out of the mouth of the temple, and asked in a silky, feminine voice: "Do you think I'm a fool? This is not a warrior, a Dragokkaren. This is a Cubba, an animal... but even his life is worth more than yours, foolish child.

"But you've given me an idea. As I am, I can poison the lands, but cannot leave this place... and there is a great world beyond this island that is out of the reach of even my most potent powers. And insulted as I am by this 'sacrifice,' I have a will to do more hate and damage to you savages, you traitor children. So I will send forth an emissary... I will pass from this world, but in my place leave a true monster, a parentless creature who will show you no mercy... because he is only born for destruction and chaos... because he knows no love, or compassion, no misery or joy, only destruction... only darkness... and he will bring this unto the world."

And then the voice died out, and the entire world seemed to tremble, birds taking wing from the trees and packs of animals stampeding, Cubba and Dragokkaren alike looking up as a chill passed through the air, and Manore felt the stairs shift under his feet before he fell and rolled down the bottom with a yell of pain and terror... and a few moments later, it was over, and darkness like smoke floated up into the air, a few long tendrils of it reaching up to the sky with a twisted, broken laugh before it dissipated.

Manore was on his back, one arm crossed over his chest and the other supporting himself as he panted quietly, staring up in terror as a figure slowly emerged. The Cubba emerged... but now it stood on two feet, and its eyes had turned from a faint grey in this black and white world to bitter, deadly red. Half-formed, mutant wings tore from his back, ragged and unkempt, damaged and useless, rotten and dead... but the Cubba grinned coldly, tilting his head back and forth ,before he asked calmly: "What's wrong, little child of Hez'Ranna?"

"Monster! Monster! The darkness has birthed a monster!" Manore shrieked, then he spun around, clawing through the dirt before charging into the jungle, crashing his way through as Narrius arched his back and roared to skies above... and then the world slowly began to fade out, and Zerrex felt a shiver race down his spine as the last thing to fade away were those terrible crimson eyes that seemed to look at him even through the darkness.