With his auburn hair spread sporadically over his half-shut silver eyes, Gadreel lay thoughtless in bed. He gently ran his fingers along the deep scar that stretched diagonally between his eyes from forehead to cheek. Getting assassinated in his sleep had never scared him. And ever since he had acquired Sherridan, the thought of an assassination seemed amusing.

That woman was a miracle born of hardship. He hadn't pried into her past too much. She had threatened him over it. Well, of course that hadn't stopped him. She just didn't have much of a past. She had erased it with blood.

Child soldier was his guess. It would've explained her need for a master-servant relationship despite how powerful she was by herself. She wanted the familiarity of the only close relationship she had ever had, but of course, she also desired to live out her childhood fantasies of being a kind of dominant servant.

Her hair color had the same explanation as that of the Zalfarian lineage. That was to say no explanation.

How frustrating the world was. When there finally was something interesting, it was such a murky matter that it simply had no charm to it.

Ancient rituals probably somehow related to essence and or the blood of cursed beasts to mutate bloodlines. That's what William had said. Whatever. All just theories.

It was weird though. William had told Gadreel of Sherridan when he asked. He really didn't expect Gadreel to betray him. Even when it was so obvious. Even when he retreated and cultivated power of his own.

Nevertheless, when the moment came, William put up a fantastic fight abandoning all delusions. It was admirable, though it still was a little embarrassing how a man so observant could be so blind in the first place.

But Gadreel had to wonder if he had succumbed to delusions himself.

Sherridan had retreated. She was gone. Where? Gadreel did not know. She had been gone for months, having begun to turn sour ever since the Son of Ares ripped the evaporation Squadron to shreds before disappearing completely.

The bounty had worked against them and the delusions of men had made it impossible for even spies to keep track of Aurelius. Spottings were everywhere. So really spottings were nowhere.

Gadreel had gotten sleepy. Expecting something to happen was such a bore sometimes. Even his appetite had disappeared. It seemed Sherridan had gotten enough of Gadreel. She had asked him so many questions only for his answer to always be the same: "I don't know."

Well, she would return when something happened and Gadreel needed her again. Hopefully.

Gadreel rolled over in bed. "I know nothing," he said weakly with a chuckle.

Then he buried his head in his pillow. Lately, he found himself reminiscing. Like a man on his deathbed. Exactly like he had done once before.

***

Back when his face had no scar, after the complete annihilation of Verdua, Gadreel had retreated to his mansion deep in the woods on the South-Eastern side of Mircrest where most of his supporters gathered. His attack on Verdua had been a little premature. It was always the statement he was going to make, but he hadn't informed his support before doing it. Making it too formal would have ruined it.

Of course, there was outrage of sorts. Jameson in particular had been vocal about the matter. It did not matter. Now that they had been revealed as traitors, they were stuck.

The war had begun. Everyone was ready. They all expected a civil war, unlike anything that had been seen before.

That is when Gadreel slept.

He would not leave his quarters, he would not speak, and he would not listen. Franz visited him constantly, worrying that now that he had erased his past, he was empty. It was true in a sense. He did feel empty, but the emptiness was familiar.

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He himself was not sure what it was.

Then one night he woke to seemingly nothing in his enormous chambers. Just a feeling. He did not move. Not even an inch. Then he felt a sharp touch on his neck as he lay on his side. He shot one eye open and the touch was withdrawn. Then he closed the eye again. He waited a while before turning nonchalantly as if asleep.

Without opening his eyes, he said, "I've been expecting you."

Then a weight descended on his. A knee on his chest. "Have you? You guards sure hadn't."

"Through the front door?" The knee pushed down harder, making Gadreel lose his breath a little. As a reaction, he tightened his core, but it was good manners to not use essence when one's counterpart wasn't either. "Ah, I forgot to tell them. Silly me. I will miss Jaque and Roff. They were the most pleasant out of the bunch, but hard workers all of them."

"Mmm, you're a good actor." A blade pressed against his throat and opened his skin. "If this is you buying time, forget it. I'll get out of here long before even half the reinforcements needed to defeat me arrive."

Gadreel opened his eyes and peered at the woman with purple hair shrouded in darkness. "Do you want to know why I did it?"

"Don't tell me you urinated just now," she scowled misinterpreting.

"Not yet," Gadreel responded, sparing a glance down at his crotch before looking back up sternly. "I mean Verdua."

"Crazy bastards do crazy bastard things. I need no explanation from a madman."

"But you have not killed me yet."

"Sharp observation there." The faint blue blade pressed down harder.

"I did it," Gadreel said as he reached out to touch Sherridan's arm and closed his eyes, "because I wanted to." Sherridan's blade disappeared and Gadreel's eyes jumped open.

In her moment of shock, he pushed her knee off his chest to the side so that she was straddled on him. Then he launched into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her waist so that they were chest to chest, peering into each other's eyes.

Suddenly there was a blade to Gadreel's throat once more. But he did not care.

"You do what you do because you want to as well, do you not?" There was something in Sherridan's eyes. A flicker of excitement. Gadreel pushed on it. "Yes, I know a fair deal about you, Sherridan. You know about me as well, I presume."

"I know enough to kill you," she answered coolly, feigning indifference.

"But not enough to let me live?" Gadreel inquired, tilting his head. "Then let me tell you. I am Gadreel. You could say that I'm a man of great ambition, but that description would skew my character. You see, I don't care about really anything. I just want to feel something," Gadreel said, putting real emphasis on his words for the first time in the conversation as he tightened his hold on her waist.

Sherridan wrangled in his grasp a little. "You know I could kill you before you knew it happened, right?" she said, a kind of natural vexation in her voice.

Gadreel gave a small laugh and leaned closer until their lips almost met, ignoring the blade to his neck, and whispered, "Do it... if you wish."

She had never experienced anything remotely close to her predicament. William was a power player. He never gave it up. He always just pushed and pushed. Sherridan had never even heard of anyone giving the opposing party all the power just to show that they were unable to use it for whatever reason.

A moment of silence passed. Gadreel did not die. Sherridan relaxed in his grasp and the blade disappeared. "Tell me, why haven't any reinforcements come by now? The guards outside should've been noticed by now, but nobody has rushed into the room."

"That? It's because they've been here the whole time. You'd be surprised how many men fit in a basement." Gadreel laughed to himself. "We must be surrounded by now. They were here just in case you killed me for some reason."

Sherridan showed a wicked smile. "You really are quite something."

Gadreel loosened his grip and leaned back. "I'm quite aware. For better or worse."

Sherridan almost chuckled and leaned in closer, leading to Gadreel back on his back. "I regret to inform you, however, that I am not yours with this little trick."

Gadreel took his hands off her and raised them over his head. "Of course not. You are a free woman. I merely do not want to kill me when the play is just beginning."

"And what is my role in that play?"

"You have none. Unless you're under William."

"I am not under him."

"You're following his orders now, aren't you? Well, technically disobeying them as we speak, but you're here because of him."

"So you would rather have me under you."

"I quite like you on top of me," Gadreel said with a smile. "But I would most prefer you by my side."

"So that I could be your friendly slave?"

"Oh, but you don't do it for money." Gadreel propped himself up with his elbows to get a little closer. "You just want to feel something. Like me."

"That's how you intend on using me? Convince me that I want to do what you want me to do?" She scoffed.

"No, I won't use you. You will use me," Gadreel said, laying back down and shutting his eyes.

She laughed. A genuine laugh. With that, Gadreel knew he had her. For life.

"Use you? How will I do that?"

"You will make me provide you a spectacle unlike any other."

"And what will I do?"

Without opening his eyes, Gadreel spun them both on the large bed, reversing the position. Then as he was on top, he finally opened his eyes again and said with a wavy voice, "You will watch."