"W-what will… h- happen t- to us?"

Unlike me or the High Matron, Zaraxus cared not about the human- the only human to gain enough courage to exit their home- in the slightest. There was no emotion to his words, nor did the undead even look at him. Yet, his voice boomed with enough power to reach every pair of ears in the city no matter how deafened their ears were by the earlier explosion.

"You have three choices. One: Pick up your arms and die. Two: Gather your belongings and leave. Three: Remain in this Necropolis and thrive. I care not what you do. But within my domain, you will be protected from the filth spread by the living; and when you die." The perpetually scowling undead pointed to his kin, already putting their unlimited stamina to use by rebuilding the city into a better version of what it was before.

---

<<"What are you doing now?">> Matron Etyl asked with genuine interest nearly an hour after Zaraxus' short address. Yet Amun kept tinkering with his undead as he had been doing since the Death Jarl relocated his lair and us to the floating rock- to the dusk moon above.

It was an unsettling place that birthed an unsettling feeling. An icy sphere, populated only by neglected winds that howled in protest of their perpetual migration across snowy mountains and corpse-filled valleys. It felt like a great beast once appeared in this land if only to devour any semblance of society before they left the corpses to a food chain that never existed.

I felt like an… angel or some such as I landed on that world at Amun's side. Like I was his agent, reporting in on a lost territory and lost members, but there was eagerness burning in my heart as he rang a strange necrotic bell, shaking the corpses awake and summoning many more to populate the moon with tens of thousands of zombies and surprisingly few shadows. Many of them were the martial undead raised by his Ki. The only ones, other than the shadows, to follow us. The others began doing what the living often dedicated themselves to, only better. They dove into construction, mining, refining, and many other crafts with the enthusiasm of an imbecile, throwing every ounce of energy at the simplest tasks.

It was hard, splitting my split attention between what was ahead and what was passing us; massive worm-like machines that could bore through mountains in minutes, crystals that howled with the anguish of a thousand souls, buildings and outposts with strangely organic designs.

I was unsure of what I was seeing, but I sensed this place- the moon itself- was somehow becoming… something. Something that would be controlled from here, the summit of what Amun called the 'north pole.'

<<"Zaraxus has earned a higher station.">> Came the absent-minded reply, yet it told the High Matron all she needed to know regardless.

His flesh was currently… off, allowing the hinges of his ribs to swing wide enough for Amun to sink both arms into the chest cavity and install enchantment after enchantment into the undead; and he was not the only one. Others were teleported to and from the place at a dizzying pace. Most of them draugr but several metal-armored skeletons and zombies of electricity or poison and other elemental types. They all received the same treatment Zaraxus was currently getting, wherein enchantments were carved and inlaid into his teeth, hands, pelvis, ribs, and sternum before they were sent elsewhere.

<<"In truth, Zaraxus' station should have improved already. Unfortunately, I only recently obtained the means to create enchantments. So, his station is to increase further. He was granted a magical weapon last year. He has his crown and that is his mount.">> Amun paused to gesture to the large spherical crystal- or egg, resting on a pedestal. <>

<<"Others?">> High Matron Etyl echoed, looking around the empty fields.

Amun pulled himself from the ribcage and reached out to place his right thumb on Zaraxus' brow, his other four fingers splayed across his jaw while his left hand mirrored the placement, putting his thumb on the naval and the fingers splayed across the chest. A practiced breath pulled that vile, unholy darkness from Amun's core, forcing High Matron Etyl and me back a step before the wickedness surged into the undead, forcing us back again, then a third time once the scream of ecstasy reverberated through the cavern.

The wicked energy poured Zaraxus' bones as if uncountable pores littered its surface, secreting an oily ooze that seemed to solidify upon making contact with the air, wherein it morphed into nerves and sinew and ligaments and absurdly dense muscle of solid darkness that exuded a golden ichor, bringing multiple changes to the undead being.

A long and slender appendage emerged from his tailbone. Long, serrated claws grew from the fingers and quickly reshaped into fleshy digits. His teeth sharpened into rows of jagged shards. White-marked horns of darkness sprouted from above his brow, curling back around his head like a ram's, but no skin seemed to grow from the foul energy.

Not until Amun released his hands to radiate his divine essence.

Zaraxus' crown, I realized, was like a catalyst for this power. With a single flick, an absurd amount of the painless silver-blue light flowed into Zaraxus from the head down, causing him to scream bloody murder as his old skin crackled into existence over his new flesh like ice-cold water on magma.

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When the eternal moment was over for the creature, he quickly stood to bear his unrecognizable form. No longer was he a pale and emaciated being who radiated a deathly cold. His skin was now full, smooth, and only a bit pale. Healthily so. His body radiated strength, almost like that of a vampire with horns, but with silver-blue eyes that looked out at the realms much differently than they did mere moments ago; with no malice. Only… indifference, perhaps; and unbridled intelligence.

<<"Wicked Mana, as the energy used by devils is called, coupled with a blessing of the World Weaver, makes Zaraxus a Sovereign of Gloom. He is more cunning, wise, and intelligent than even the oldest liches across the realms. More importantly, he is now seen as neutral when divined upon.">>

I turned to the High Matron, knowing she would test the claim, and her backpedal told me the claim was true, though I needed her not to verify. I could feel… nothing, coming from Zaraxus, other than power of course. But no hostility, malice, or even a threatening aura; despite the glare he occasionally threw at us.

However, Amun was still not done.

<<"As far as I'm aware, no yield will come from me giving him more umbral or necrotic arcana. Therein lies the reasoning for his wicked and divine boons. But still." Amun flexed, pouring divine light across the environment. "There are more blessings to give. Blessings of the ArcaTech, the Owl, and the Eternal."

More bursts of light. A deep blue akin to Iris' tunic; the black and gold twilight; the blue-green of his arcana and necromancy; all painless energies to stare into. All, evidently, domains of Amun's divinity that sent me spiraling into an internal debate while my eyes remained glued to the undead.

There were hardly any changes to be seen on the outside. Only archaic, angular veins of divine blue light grew over his hands, running up his arms to his neck and face to form glowing rings around his temples. That, and a great set of black wings, reminiscent of an owl's plumed from his back before disappearing just as fast. On the other hand, his spirit revealed something that would have been impossible to believe, had I not stared at it for minutes: a heart of arcana, pulsating beside the black heart formed from Amun's wickedness. Beating each time its partner went to rest. Pumping, not wicked ichor into veins and arteries, but arcana through a circuit that was instantly recognizable to my eyes.

<<"Blessings from my divine domains promote Zaraxus from a Sovereign of Gloom to an Umbra Emperor.">> Amun explained with more satisfaction than pride.

I found myself stepping forward ignoring High Matron Etyl's ire in light of this mind-breaking discovery. <<"And… what does that accomplish?">> I asked, hardly attempting to control myself.

<<"The blessing of the ArcaTech, the blue veins, allows him to communicate with and control the things created by him or me remotely. Devices and machines, including but not limited to forges, factories, workshops, Lore Skulls, and Uma's. Plus, it makes it easier for him to learn and remember new things. As far as the other aspects.">> He gestured to the wings. <<"I'm sure you can see it for yourself. Now then.">>

Almost eagerly, Amun conjured an ornate knife and stabbed himself in the gut, draining the exuberance- and life- from his face in an instant, in turn igniting the blue-green flames of his necrotic ki. Then, upon clasping his hands together, he replaced his hands on Zaraxus' face and chest.

In hindsight, I could never come to understand why the sight of meditating undead was declared insignificant to my brain. I saw them. For hours, I looked upon them. I even made mental notes about their behavior, thinking it was only a quirk of Amun's monastic way. I even saw his ki raise undead yet I thought nothing of it. Then I saw that blue-green fire flowing seamlessly into Zaraxus' 'mana heart' and being pumped through the circuit, and I nearly lost my footing.

'Is this possible?' High Matron Etyl signed, but I wanted to shout. Of course, it would work. The fact I never realized the signs hidden below my nose bothered me to no end, but shouting was the last thing I could do.

'Even under normal circumstances,' I began flicking my fingers, 'Ki can easily be imbued into another creature. It is only a matter of the recipient's ability to contain it without injury. That is why building the circuit, or the 'path,' is necessary. Without it, the effect is no different from suffering a Stunning Strike. However, Zaraxus is undead, so necrotic ki would only empower him with no risk of injury, even without the path. So yes, it is possible, High Matron - to contain it, but not accumulate it in the way we can.'

While everything I said was true, Amun's Ki Ponds had yet to be opened. His ki was not dense enough to make any significant changes to Zaraxus. Not until the army of martial undead poured their collective ki into him. They arrived sprinting and fell in shambles by the dozens, eventually creating an impassable mound for the hundreds of their kin behind them to dismantle or be flung into a pit of darkness until the last wave came and went.

When Zaraxus stood, he seemed no different from the fiendishly celestial form I saw earlier; other than the heart of arcana, serving as a crude well to pump the necrotic Ki throughout his body. With that, paired with the divine, wicked, and arcane energies he just received, it was hard to even think of him as an undead creature, much less a creature at all, but a calamity.

<<"With this, Zaraxus, of course, has increased strength and martial abilities, but the true aim of this process was to make him wiser and more open to the living as he is the undead. Incredibly so.">> Amun grinned in the way only maniacal artificers did. <<"A Doom King is the monarch of a necropolis such as this.">> He gestured to the city above our heads, in the lands below. <<"A Sovereign of Gloom commands an undead kingdom. An Umbra Emperor commands an undying empire, encompassing a place like the Bodhi Peninsula.

<<"Beyond that, is the Noctis Sage; of which there will only be so many. One at the head of every Legion, responsible for an entire realm ruled by the undead. Above all of them, is only one: the Abyssal Sage, Zaraxus.">>

With the poise and grace of a divine avatar, Zaraxus swept his great wings, taking to the skies below his deathworld to look down on his land of the living; and with a voice as calm as the serene seas, he addressed his dominion for the first, and second time.

"Remain in my domain and you shall thrive, not simply survive. Live free and do what only the living can do. Learn, grow, live. Temper your souls until your time comes and join us when it has passed. In exchange, we shall do what only the dead can; work unceasingly to protect and maintain the Legio Noctis, Eotrom, and her allies. Remain or stay! We shall not decide for you!

“We shall not keep you!"