Compulsion. Obligation. Need. That is what she felt, looking at the figure. It was such a strong sensation, which she couldn’t possibly hope to resist anymore, the chance that it would finally end and she wouldn’t need to live with it for the rest of her life, it was all too tempting.
She checks the time, it is 8:54. “No no, I can’t be late!” This is her chance at getting Ludwig to really trust her, she can’t let some skeleton ruin it, no matter how inconvenient the timing is. She gets up, as much as she can, anyway, quickly changes into her suit, and carefully stumbles to the door. Every step she takes feels like wading through a thorny bush. She leans against the wall, panting, opens the door, and with lumbering steps, makes her way to the railing, her arms hardly strong enough to support her body as she leans on it. The people around give her curious and suspicious looks.
Everything hurts, the pain only got worse since she stood up. She isn’t going to make it to the lifts like this, let alone Ludwig’s office.
“Are you alright, sire?” She hears a familiar voice and looks up to see Andreas standing on air platforms at the next floor’s level. She exhales, somewhat relieved.
“No…” She manages to say. “Please, take me to Ludwig’s office.” She pleads, legs trembling.
“What happened, sire?” The crow asks, taking a few steps in the air down to her level.
“Doesn’t matter! You have to… Take me there. Please.” She collapses onto her knees, feeling as if both of her legs are broken. Andreas looks at her with concern, but doesn’t question it, at least not verbally.
“Very well, sire.” He goes over the railing and gently picks her up. He then starts walking downwards in the air. Seeing someone walk down air as if there’s a stairway is surreal enough, but experiencing it, even more so. She can see so well from up here…
Her eyes are drawn to the warehouse entrance and an overwhelming compulsion comes over her. She has to go in… She absolutely has to.
She shakes her head, snapping out of it, deeply worried for a good moment before a wave of calm comes over her.
She is taken right in front of Ludwig’s office where Andreas puts her down. She struggles to stand up, teeth gritted from the pain in her legs.
“I could arrange a meeting for you at the medical room, sire.” He states with a hint of apprehension in his voice.
“I… May need that. Thanks.” She responds without turning and opens the door to Ludwig’s office.
Inside, the silver wolf is sitting at his metal desk, waiting with his hands put together. He was smiling when she entered, but it quickly turns into a look of concern.
“Are you… Okay?” He asks as she lumbers over to the desk.
“I’ve been better…” She says in response, grasping at her chest.
Ludwig stands up and goes to help her stand.
“What even happened to you?” He asks, pulling a chair from another desk and sitting her down.
“I just woke up and… Let’s just say that I didn’t sleep too well…” She manages to say.
Ludwig raises an eyebrow at that.
“It’s a cat thing.” She blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind, causing him to shrug and sit back down at his desk.
“Anyway… I wanted to talk to you about something very important.” Solomon can’t help but feel rather impartial about his statement. She is interested, but her head is spinning and everything hurts.
“Due to several suggestions from peers, I have chosen to recruit you as a member of The System for the time being.” The wolf states with a stone cold expression. “Shaquia… Her idea must have worked.” Solomon nods, looking rather uninterested and tired.
“But, I need a little information from you.” Ludwig begins to say, but Solomon doesn’t understand his next question from the pulsing on her head. She feels a sense of dread inside her… But that’s not all. She can sense the feeling of calm. The two sensations at the same time make her head hurt. Distracted, she closes her eyes and rubs her forehead.
“I know, it’s a hard question, but…” The wolf says, but Solomon interrupts him.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” She says at last.
“Does this happen every time you don’t get enough sleep?” Ludwig complains with furrowed brows.
Solomon nods slowly, rubbing her aching wrists.
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” She promises.
“Hm. Back to the original question…” Says the wolf. “These people that you worked with… Are they also Mystic Ones?” He asks bluntly, causing Solomon to heave. She feels panicked, but calm, no, downright serene at the same time. That calm overcomes her, feeling like a suggestion as to what she should do… He already knows. He is just testing her.
“Yes.” She gives a straight answer.
Ludwig smiles, then chuckles softly.
“Well then. What magic types are there?” He asks, lightly tapping the desk.
“Electric, frost, and light.” She says in the same, docile tone. She doesn’t mention Adelar, since she didn’t hear him be mentioned in that conversation she overheard.
“That’s all it took, eh?” Ludwig laughs. “You are an Acid One without a doubt, living up to the legends with how quickly you sell out your friends.”
Anger. Hatred. Rage. They all overcome Solomon as she quickly stands up and slams a hand on the desk, marking prominently displayed on the back of her hand.
“Our deal is still up.” She declares weakly, but determined. Her other hand slightly twitches. “If you as much as lay a finger on them…” She pauses, not finishing her sentence.
“I never said I would do that as a result, now did I?” Ludwig says with a grin. That grin… Solomon feels mocked. She is not being taken seriously, is she? The feeling slowly distances from her, getting replaced with the pain in her body that she briefly forgot about. She sits down, grasping the arms of the chair.
“I’ll have you know, your little friends caused me quite the trouble at Lion’s Den. Three owl guards, seven staff members, and a Mystic One, a good friend of mine, Harper. All dead. Do you expect me to overlook all of that?” He asks in a grim tone and expression.
“What? They killed eleven people there?” She feels bewildered because of what was shared with her, but collects herself. Or rather, she feels like she collects herself.
“If you want me to help you, you will have to.” She states with a smug grin.
Ludwig slams on the desk, it sounds metallic. Too metallic… Solomon looks at his hand, still a colour of silver, but smooth and shiny. His hand then seems to be covered with fur once again. Solomon figures it out right after.
“You’re one as well, aren’t you?” She asks.
“Why are they so important to you anyway?” He demands, ignoring the cat’s question. “You could have everything here. Why do you choose to stick with them?”
Solomon shakes her head, sensing a newfound confidence rise from deep within her.
“I’m not as deceitful as you think. But just as deadly.” She exclaims. “Grayson and that tiger… That was me.” The wolf grits his teeth as he looks at her in disbelief. “Camille and that butler? That was me as well.” Ludwig stands up from his desk, growling. “And now Lion’s Den… Seems like the legends rubbed off on them.” She says with her arms crossed, smirking.
A silver sheen appears on all of Ludwig’s body, including his suit. He reaches out, grabs Solomon and lifts her up. She can see his other hand clenched into a fist. But she cares not.
“Go ahead. Lose your chance at the Acid One’s alliance.” She says, not a hint of fear in her eyes.
The same can’t be said for her mind. “Solomon you idiot! Why did you say any of that? Do you see who you’re trying to convince?” But that is as long as her internal panic lasts before that strange sense of calm washes over her mind once again.
Ludwig looks her in the eyes with a growl.
“You admit to murdering members of an organisation right to its founder…” He says, his expression turning to a toothy smile. “That takes some nerve. You’re not afraid in the slightest, are you?”
Solomon shakes her head in response. In her mind, a brief scream.
“You live up to the legends, Acid One.” He puts her back down, laughing. The metallic lustre disappearing from his body.
“So…” He says, as if she didn’t just admit to her crimes. “All of those were your doing?” Solomon thinks back to the scenes. There is definite proof of acid damage at both of them. “I have to say, I didn’t think you had it in you.” The wolf exclaims. “They weren’t just anyone. They were skilled in their magic, and you overcame all of them?” He asks, looking almost impressed. Solomon just nods in response. “I didn’t want to say any of that… Why, why did I do that?”
These thoughts don’t last long and are replaced by a sense of immense satisfaction. Whatever she’s doing, it seems to be working so far.
“I need the strongest in my organisation. And you… You will be the strongest yet. Join us, and I’ll turn a blind eye to all the damage you and your little friends caused.” He reaches out, expecting Solomon to shake his hand.
“Leave them alone, and I will join you.” She states.
“If that’s all it takes… Fine.” Ludwig says with a chuckle.
Solomon then reaches out and shakes the wolf’s hand. After that, he takes out a piece of paper.
“Sign this, and it’ll seal our deal.”
Solomon looks down at the sheet, a contract detailing her duties as a member of the organisation. After a quick read, she can see that she wouldn’t sign her rights away by joining, but it isn’t likely that they would let her go all too easily. “Above all, keep the organisation a secret.” A notion she can understand.
She takes a pen and writes her name on the paper with remarkable indifference. The wolf watches on, looking pleased.
“Welcome to The System.”
And so, it is done. Solomon is now a part of the organisation that she was so desperate to find just a few days ago. She knows that there is one reason behind them doing this: they couldn’t take her power, so they need her as well. That might be the only reason why she’s still alive. “You’re only doing this for your friends, Solomon. This will keep them safe… Hopefully.”
“I think you’ve earned this.” Says the wolf and hands her a radio. “Use this if you need help or have any questions.”
Questions, Solomon certainly has.
“You’re different from what I’ve seen before.” She remarks, her head pounding.
“Why of course. An ordinary wolf couldn’t lead an organisation like this.” He replies, his hands gleaming. “I am True Metal.” He adds. Solomon can’t help but express her lack of understanding.
“And that means?”
“My entire body is covered in the colour of metal. My magic and I, one and the same.” He states. Solomon thinks back to Thalia. “She’s just like him… But with darkness. No doubt they’d be interested in her.”
“Exceedingly rare, but its power is undeniable.” Suddenly, his entire body becomes covered in metal again. “None can harm me in this form.” He adds.
“It’s metal then? I can melt metal.” She says and takes a mental note regarding that, causing Ludwig to frown and power down his magic.
“Very observant…”
Solomon wonders what exactly might that other combination be that’s similar to her power. It’s a sore spot for the wolf, it must also be able to damage him in some way.
“So what’s the plan?” Solomon asks with a heavy sigh.
“We can discuss that when you’re feeling better. Go now, do whatever cat thing you need to do to make this go away.”
Solomon nods and stands up to leave. Her legs feel like they’re going to explode. She stumbles out the door, where Andreas is still waiting along with Shaquia.
“Good Lord, you look terrible.” The lynx remarks with a look of sympathy.
“I am aware, thank you.” Solomon responds with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “But guess what… I’m one of you now.” She informs the two of them, her head still spinning, vision getting blurry. Shaquia looks pleased, Andreas looks more concerned about her condition.
“Good! That means we can let you in on more and more as we go on.” Shaquia says before Solomon falls to her knees, panting heavily.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Sire?” Says Andreas, looking down at her along with the lynx.
“I really need… To rest.” She says as she collapses on the floor.
Solomon wakes up in a bed at what she guesses is the medical room. She feels a soothing light on her arms and head. Looking up, there is a person in a lab coat and a mask, Solomon isn’t sure what species he is.
“She’s awake.” He states in a calm manner. She feels decidedly better than she was before becoming unconscious. Looking around, she sees beds, some empty, but most not. “Maybe they’re the warehouse staff?” She doesn’t see Sal, however, figuring that he must have recovered already.
She looks to her left and notices Stefano sitting by her bed.
“Oh… Hey, instructor. Fancy seeing you here.” She says in a lighthearted tone.
“I had to come check on my apprentice, didn’t I?” He responds with a smile. “I’ve gotten to know some rather unfortunate news about you, however.” His smile fades, which slightly worries Solomon.
“Could you give us a minute?” He asks the Bright One shining his light on the cat. He nods and walks over to another patient.
“So, you met Camille? A gecko, Frost One?” He asks candidly. Solomon feels a sense of guilt… No, she feels nothing. Absolutely no strong feelings about the incident.
“I have.” She responds calmly.
“I see… I was informed that she died. By your hands, no less.” Says the otter, sombrely.
“I did it. Yes.” She says, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to face the otter. He doesn’t respond for a couple long moments.
“Camille… She always had such strange methods, but they worked. Always so blunt and impatient…” He begins to say. “And to an extent, terribly annoying. But your power… Your acid… She didn’t deserve that.”
Solomon opens her eyes and looks at the otter.
“I didn’t use it on her!” She exclaims, thinking back to the scene. The sound of that crack. “I broke her neck.” She states, regaining her composure.
Stefano nods.
“I see… That makes it… A little better.” He says as he leans in closer to the cat.
“But then why did you have to kill her?” He asks with a grim look.
“Camille saw my marking, that’s when things got bad.” She lies, a sense of peace overcoming her. “I couldn’t let her take me. Or live.” She states, coldly.
Stefano nods once again.
“Very well, Solomon.” He says in a ghastly tone. “I’ll await your return to the training hall when you feel better.” He stands up and walks out of the medical room.
Solomon shakes her head, snapping out of the sensation. “Just like earlier… This is bad.” She lies in bed, looking at the ceiling, thinking. Whatever happened in her last dream can’t have been good… Her dream! She could go back and see what happens!
Just then, Shaquia enters the medical room.
“Solomon?” She says, giving her a look of deep worry.
“I’m fine, please, just leave me alone for now.” She responds in a tone harsher than she intended. The lynx nods and simply leaves.
Solomon checks the time, it is 10:34. closes her eyes and tries to go to sleep… She opens them soon after, seeing that she can’t just sleep right now. She glances at her watch. It reads 13:57. With a gasp and a blink, she checks again. Sure enough, she isn’t misreading it. “How…?” Not only did she sleep for over three hours, but there was no dream to speak of. Not one she can remember, that is. She would normally be elated about that, but the implications terrify her. If this is what it wanted all along…
A terrible compulsion comes over her mind right after. She has to get out of here. She has to go to the warehouse. She just has to.
Solomon sits up, then gets out of bed. Her legs still hurt a little, but it’s definitely more bearable. “Why would I want to go there?” She questions for just a second before the thought overcomes her once again. Get to the warehouse.
She walks to the medical room door, nothing but the warehouse on her mind.
“Miss! Why aren’t you in bed?” She hears a voice come from behind her. She merely opens the door and exits without even looking. Her eyes are drawn to the lifts and she makes her way towards them.
“Miss!” She hears the same voice say.
Annoying. So unfathomably annoying. She turns around and shakes her head. The nurse looks ahead in surprise.
“Miss, you have to…”
Solomon breaks into a sprint. No longer caring for the lifts, she will take the stairs. Some try to stop and question her, but she is fast and light on her feet. They can’t get her. Not when she has something so important to do. Others eye her suspiciously. How could they possibly understand?
She runs down all the way to the main hall. No one follows. Good. She walks to the entrance of the warehouse, the guard stationed there nods and lets her in. She walks in and looks around. No one’s in sight. She shakes her head and looks down, rubbing her temples. “Why… Did I come here?”
Another sense of compulsion: knowledge, wisdom, information. She has to find the book again. It will answer all of her questions, she just knows it will… But if that raccoon is here and spots her, it’s over. She can’t risk that.
She looks down at her feet. Those shoes… Too loud. Her steps will echo throughout the warehouse. She’s a cat, her steps will be silent without them.
With that thought, she takes off her shoes and begins wandering the warehouse, looking out for any workers or the raccoon. A turn left, and there he is, on top of a ladder, rearranging items she couldn’t care less about. The book… She has to find the book.
She thinks back to her first time here. One turn here, straight ahead, one more turn, one more long hallway…
And there it is. The container she saw Benedict place the book into. Intense joy comes over her. Quietly and carefully, she walks over to the container. It’s locked with a padlock, nothing she couldn’t deal with. She grabs the padlock and powers up her magic. In a couple seconds, it is no more than black sludge. She powers down, hoping no one heard that, and swings the container open. There it is…
Carefully, she takes it out of the container, and a realisation hits her. “How am I supposed to read this?”
She feels an idea form within her: it’s likely written by Mystic Ones… She’s a Mystic One. Surely, there is a way for her to read it. She places the book on the table and holds her hand above it. She lights up her marking, as if infusing an object, no acid comes out, but her magic is present.
She watches in awe as the formerly unreadable symbols are perceived as plain English in her eyes. “Ledger of the Mystic Ones: A Comprehensive Guide and History of Magic.” It reads. She gasps softly. Finally, what she was searching for all this time… Answers.
Greedily, she opens the book. The first page is dedicated to the authors, all with old names she doesn’t recognise, a mild sense of doubt looming over her mind.
She shakes her head, flipping pages. The next few are a table of contents. She skims through it, seeing pages and pages dedicated to nothing but the history of Mystic Ones.
She looks around, but doesn’t see anyone. She continues reading. There’s only one thing that she wants to know… She sees that in-depth information on the different types of magic is towards the back of the book. She flips through the pages, seeing the names along with proper illustrations, combinations, incompatibilities… All of it is in this book. How long was she supposed to wait until she could read all this?
She looks at the names on the top of the pages as she flips through. Blazing Ones, Frost Ones, Lightning Ones, Windswept Ones… So much content dedicated to just these four. Bright Ones, Dark Ones, the combined pages on just these two outnumber the previous ones. Metal Ones, Sanguine Ones… She’s so close, she can feel her tail flicking from side to side in excitement. One more page, the anticipation inside her grows palpable…
“Origins of Splicing” it reads at the top. Solomon is dumbfounded. “Where is it?!” She inspects the pages and on closer look, she sees that one page has been torn out.
Fury builds inside her. She can almost feel her blood boil as she looks at the torn base where her answers should be. It looks so mocking… So tantalising! She came all this way, she’s done everything she has, only to be denied her answers? And why only one page? She stifles a shout of anger and loses concentration, a drop of acid drips onto the book.
She looks down at it in panic, trying to wipe it away before it could cause any damage… But no harm comes to the book. The drop of acid slides on the paper like a raindrop on a leaf, all the way to the where the page was torn, shining as it does.
A green, spectral page forms where the page was torn. At the top of the page, it reads “Acid Ones.” Solomon can’t stop herself from softly laughing in delight. Finally… She will have her answers.
She takes the book in her hands and with redoubled interest and yearning, begins reading the first line. “A mockery of nature.”
Her heart sinks. She blinks once, twice, making sure she read it correctly. She compares it to the first line of Blazing Ones. “Soothing warmth or raging pyre, the duality of Blazing Ones cannot be ignored. Although rare in nature, Blazing Ones are the most common type of Mystic Ones.”
This makes no sense. She re-reads that one sentence over and over again. She powers her magic down and up, but still, it reads the same. “What does that even mean?”
She reads on. “The first and hopefully last artificially created type of magic.” Solomon feels a sense of pride inside her, but it is quickly replaced with horror as she reads on. “Rather than a blessing from nature, it is a curse, made by a once great mind which it carries with itself.” She shakes her head and softly begins to sob as she reads on. “There can only ever be one Acid One as a result of its origin. Every one hundred years, a most vile and evil person is chosen to bear the spiral markings, cursing them to be haunted by its creator in their sleep. Those chosen as hosts are invariably selfish, deceitful, and have their loyalties go as deep as pockets, much like the one who created it. If such a person is discovered, they are to be executed immediately. See: The Two Cities incident.”
Solomon recoils, almost falling over. She leans on a shelf and begins to pant. “No… No, this can’t be!” She may have done things that she’s come to regret, but she isn’t evil… It just isn’t true. She’s never killed anyone that didn’t warrant it.
She feels obligated to continue reading. She doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to read what other horrible LIES are written in the book.
She leans over the page once again. “It is made to have but one purpose: to destroy. It allows the Acid One to create, control, and turn any liquid into acid. Even its blessing only serves to protect the Acid One’s belongings from the magic itself, uncaring as to what happens to those around.”
Solomon remembers what her first thought was when she got to know exactly what her infusion/blessing can do. What she did right after, she made sure it wouldn’t affect her things. “NO! I was happy I could do something that wasn’t destruction…” The thought quickly fades as she reads on…
“Compatibility: none. All who attempt to splice Acid will invariably have their blood turned to acid due to the unique defensive reaction that the original creator added to it. A testament to his greed, how he wanted no one else to have such power.” She sees a small, crude illustration of a figure, melting, dissolving from the inside.
Solomon feels sick to her stomach. No. She cannot continue. She weeps as she falls to her knees. She’s about to slam her fist against the floor… But finds herself unable. Her hand just hangs in the air, unmoving.
“What is happening?” She feels a great sense of anger, rage burning inside her, it’s unlike anything she’s experienced. But no… She isn’t angry. She is sad, terribly sad about the information she just learned. But then why, why does she feel angry, still? Trying to collect herself, she suddenly becomes aware of something: she feels like someone is standing behind her, and she’s feeling that person’s emotions as well as her own at the same time, creating an impossible mixture of drowning sorrow and blazing resentment.
Her heart beats faster and faster as she comes to the realisation.
“No no no, leave me alone!” She shouts, not caring if she’s heard anymore. Her hand moves against her will, each finger bending and straightening one by one. She feels her other hand move as well, they grab the edge of the table and pull her up. One hand grabs her head and makes her look down at the book.
“Please, stop! Someone-” She cries out, her other hand clasping her mouth shut. She reads the last lines of the page. “Additional notes: The name of the original Acid One, its creator, has been removed in later editions, for he has been deemed unworthy of the honour of being included.”
She can feel the anger rise to a boiling point as she reads it, the hand holding her head slams the book shut, then hits the table with enough force to make her wince. Strangely enough, for just a moment, the rage is taken over by a sense of worry, but it doesn’t last long.
Solomon sobs as she looks down at her hand, the marking glowing intensely. Gathering what little willpower she still has, she pulls her hand away from her mouth, reaches forwards and looks… The markings glow so intensely, they resemble circular lights more than spirals. The hue seems ever so slightly different, rather than dark green, the marking glow in an intense, piercing green colour.
She can take no more of this. She wants to lie down and cry, but what good would that do for her? She needs help, and she needs it now.
“HELP!” She yells and to her relief, hears hurried footsteps soon after.
“Solomon?” Says a voice she recognises as one belonging to Benedict. A hand is over her mouth again, she fights to turn and look at the racoon. Nearly stumbling into a shelf as her hand flails. She tries to pull the hand away from her mouth, but she can’t break free from the creator’s influence.
“What happened?” Benedict asks, concerned, walking closer.
She shakes her head as if to say “don’t come any closer”, but he doesn’t seem to understand. Her once flailing hand relaxes, hanging by her side. She wants to scream, she wants to wipe the tears from her face, but her left hand is firmly around her mouth.
Then, her right hand violently reaches towards the raccoon, pulling her with it as she nearly falls over with each step.
“Whoa, what are you doing?!” He asks in a panicked tone, taking a step back. She involuntarily rushes at him, trying to do everything in her power to tell him to run.
“Stop or-” He begins, but sees that there’s no reasoning with her. Not in this condition. He puts his hands together and opens up his palms. “You give me no choice!” A stream of water shoots out from his hands, hitting Solomon and pushing her back. She falls onto her back, soaked.
“I’m sorry!” Says the raccoon, taking a step towards her. “Have you calmed down now?” He asks, worried.
Solomon’s left hand releases her mouth, both of them now touching the wet floor.
“Benedict!” She cries out, and hears a sound all around her: sizzling. Looking around, the water is turning into acid, eating through the floor. The liquid moves away from where she’s lying, her hands still in contact with it.
“RUN! Get away from me!” She shouts, in tears.
The water she was blasted with is all turned to acid. It moves around the floors, seemingly controlled. The shelves that make contact with it start to sink into it and tip over.
“What are you doing?!” Yells the racoon. The acid is quickly dissolving the floor, leaving a pillar of concrete where Solomon is now kneeling.
Benedict takes his radio and rushes to the entrance.
“Backup! I need backup at the warehouse!” He yells into the radio.
“What is it?” Shaquia asks, sounding more concerned this time.
“Solomon, her power… Oh God… Bring the tranq rifle, Andreas!” Is all the cat hears, coming from her radio. She is left alone with her thoughts. Or at least she wishes, for she is not entirely alone, and won’t be for the foreseeable future.
The acid spreads, and eventually stops when it is no longer in contact with her hands, turning into a black liquid. Inside her, the sense of hatred, ire, betrayal persists.
Benedict soon comes back with the other higher-ups, including Ludwig. The looks on their faces say it all.
Lifting her head, she gets a good look at the sheer destruction she caused: The hole around the pillar that it left looks to be about twenty metres deep and fifty metres long in all directions. She feels a sudden sense of guilt and remorse.
As she spots them, her hands move on their own to cover her face as she sobs. Ludwig starts laughing, he laughs for many, long seconds.
“Marvellous!” He finally says, his expression that of ecstasy.
Shaquia is left speechless.
From the footsteps, Solomon can hear one of them pace around.
“Please… I didn’t do this!” She cries out weakly, unsure if they even hear her.
“I’ll handle this, sire.” Says the voice of Andreas, somehow still calm. Her hands move away from her face, she sees him float above the pit the acid made, holding a tranquiliser rifle. Looking over to the rest, Benedict is carefully looking from the hole to her, then back to the hole, grasping the sides of his head.
“Be still, sire.” Andreas aims the rifle at Solomon.
Her hands are then moved forward in a defensive stance as she stands up, hoping it’ll make it easier for him to hit.
Andreas fires, a dart hits her in the neck. Unlike last time, she is delighted to feel it.
“Got her, sire.”
Her hand pulls out the dart and tries to hold on to the wound. “Turn any liquid into acid…” She thinks back to what she read. That would neutralise the effects of the dart. She also would rather not have acid in her bloodstream, whether or not she’s immune to it.
“It’s my body… And I won’t let you have it!” She shouts as she takes a step to the edge of the pillar.
“What are you doing?!” Ludwig shouts. Her hand no longer resists and goes limp before she has control over it again.
“And don’t you dare…” She feels herself getting dizzy from the dart, her vision blurring. She loses her balance and tries to fall back onto the pillar, but due to the dizziness, is unable to. As she starts to fall, her hand stretches out to grab the edge against her will, but can’t quite reach it. Four blurred figures is all she sees before it all goes dark.