“Whooohh. Whhoooh. Take it easy, boy,” said Julius. He patted the side of the horse who’d suddenly seemed a bit too energetic. “We’ll be setting off soon enough.”
Julius was quite familiar with this horse. Out of the dozens that occupied the royal stables, it was his favorite and he’d ridden it for hundreds of hours before. Julius could tell something was off. The horse was breathing more heavily than normal and it seemed to continually stir like there was an itch that it couldn’t quite scratch. He started to look over the horse, searching for what was wrong.
“Do you need any assistance, brother?” asked Cesar from atop his own stallion a few dozen yards away.
“No, it’s fine. With the kingdom’s best handlers looking after him, I doubt it can be anything serious. Chrome here is probably just a little restless. I haven’t been able to ride him much as of late,” said Julius as he turned his attention back to his brother. The horse and whatever was going on with it didn’t matter, not compared to the more important concerns at hand.
“It’s been a while, but I thought you loved hunting. You used to go practically every day when we were boys. The thrill of the chase and the great feeling of release when you catch your prey and you feel its life draining away in your arms after you slit its throat. There’s nothing else quite like it,” said Cesar, shuddering slightly simply from recalling such memories.
“I used to go hunting so much because you’d always want to, or don’t you remember that, brother. It was also a valid excuse to go out, get some fresh air, and more importantly, to get away from Crasteous and his endless lectures,” said Julius.
“Yes, it has been so long I nearly forgot about old Crasteous,” said Cesar. “The hollow was the only one of us who could stay awake all the way through his lectures. Should have known then that something was wrong with him.”
“Now, Cesar. That is no way to talk about our brother.”
“You’re right. There’s no reason to ever mention him in the first place.”
“Ce-,” Julius started before cutting himself off. He had other things to discuss with his brother and didn’t want to waste time or dampen Cesar’s temperment on this.
“Haha,” Julius chuckled. “Crasteous. Good times.”
“Perhaps it was for you,” said Cesar. “Now, are you ready to go? We’re losing light.”
“Hang on, I’m sorry about bringing that up. I guess my social skills might be a bit out of practice with how busy the resettlements and wartime logistics…,” Julius began before he was interrupted.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t enjoy your position, that it is such a burden. I know you must love the way everyone adores you and is willing to do just about anything you want. All of this so-called work you do is just something you choose to do. If you wanted, you could just sit back, take it easy, and enjoy everything the world has to offer,” said Cesar.
“From what I hear, you have been enjoying everything the world has to offer enough for the both of us,” said Julius.
“Well… I have to enjoy it while I can,” said Cesar. “Unlike you, I won’t be important until the day I die. Pretty soon your new wife will start pumping out some kids and then my role as the spare heir will be gone and done with.”
“Yes, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about that,” said Julius.
“Oh, so we are finally getting to the real reason you invited me on this hunt,” said Cesar.
“Yes, I admit I invited you today as a pretext to have this conversation. So let’s just get this business over with now so that we’ll be free to spend the rest of the day on bleeding some poor beast,” said Julius.
“Fine, profess your purpose, my dearest brother,” said Cesar.
“I hear that a certain mind-altering alchemical concoction has been circulating among the young nobility as of late,” Julius began.
“There are always substances circulating among the nobility in one form or another,” said Cesar.
“I’m talking about the white powder that caused Berus Tiberon’s heart to give out and drove Gino Mesrus into such a manic state that he throttled three of his nubile female servants while they slept. If the rumors are to be believed, he rutted their cooling corpses with his inflamed member until sunrise,” said Julius.
“Ahhh, and you assume I know about this sort of stuff,” said Cesar. “I don’t know if I should be pleased that my brother deigned to request this much from me or insulted that he thinks this my expertise, but either way doesn’t change the result. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do, Cesar. Don’t bother lying to me. I’ve heard that not only are you into the stuff, but you and your coterie are the ones behind it all,” said Julius, his eyes meeting Cesar’s head on briefly before Cesar shied away. “I can see it in your eyes right now. They are all red and bloody. I can see it in your skin. It’s all pale and loose, like you have recently lost a lot of weight. I can even see it in the way you are sitting there on your steed. You can’t stop quivering for a single second. Don’t lie to me. It’s obvious.”
“Fine, I am behind it. So what?” snapped Cesar.
“So what? Didn’t you hear what I said about Berus Tiberon and Gino Mesrus? Spreading it around is wrong and that’s not even mentioning the fact that you’re using the stuff yourself. You’re going to….”
“I don’t need to hear lectures from you. It’s my body and I’ll do with it as I wish. I believe that much at least isn’t within the bounds of your highness’ authority, nor is it within the bounds of his majesty’s. The same goes for the others. I never forced anyone to take it, nor made them do anything while they were under its effects. If they can’t control themselves, if they can’t bear the enhancement of dust, then that’s their problem,” Cesar snapped back, his voice bellowing so loudly that even the guards maintaining a security perimeter around them could overhear from over fifty meters away.
This reaction caught Julius by surprise. He’d been hearing reports about the effect of this ‘dust’ for a couple of months now and was aware that extreme mood swings were one of the symptoms. Julius had known his brother had fallen under the sway of this new drug, but he hadn’t thought it had gone so far so fast. A surge of duty filled Julius. He knew that he had to get help for his brother.
“I know I can’t make you do anything. The Gods know that father has tried before and if he’s failed, I know I don’t have a hope of succeeding….”
“So, you know your limits,” said Cesar.
“But I can still hope that you can see the light,” Julius continued. “I haven’t given up on you yet, brother. I can-.”
“Do what you will. You can waste the rest of your life on it for all I care. But you called me here for hunting and that is what we will do,” said Cesar.
Cesar flicked the reins and his horse stormed off down the trail. After a brief sigh, Julius copied his brother’s action, but the result was quite a bit different.
The horse instantly bolted. Overreacting to his master’s command, the horse charged forward with everything it had. Julius’ years of equestrianship immediately kicked in. He pulled back on the reins to signal to the horse to slow down. Again, the horse overreacted. It slammed its feet into the ground to stop itself so fast that the momentum of the rest of its body quickly overwhelmed those legs.
The horse’s knees broke as both horse and rider tumbled forward headfirst and crashed into the ground. In the process, the horse also did half a flip and landed on top of its rider.
“Oh my god, Prince Julius.”
“Get it off of him.”
“Quick, send for a healer.”
A dozen guards and servants snapped to attention. Some ran over to check on Julius while the rest ran back to the palace for the Royal Physiker.
It took half a dozen muscular men to lift away the horse. Below it, the scene was as bad as all the guards and servants had feared. Prince Julius had been completely crushed. It was unclear how fast it had happened, unclear whether it was from the bleeding or from suffocation, unclear whether the impact had knocked Julius unconscious or if he’d been awake and aware of it all, but one thing was certain. Prince Julius, heir to the throne of Xebrya, was dead.
After the incident, Cesar circled back. As the guards and servants tried to save Julius, Cesar remained seated on his horse watching. His body continued twitching slightly, a side effect of all the dust coursing through his veins, but his heart and mind were steady.
Everything was as planned.
----------------------------------------
“He was a perfect boy. More beloved by the common people than I ever was and held in high regard by all of his peers. He would have made a fine King, but alas, that is no longer to be,” said King Bardis Bos.
It’d only been a few days since the incident and yet he appeared to have aged several years. In public, he remained stony and stoic. In public, he couldn’t afford to show any sign of weakness. But here in the privacy of his study the king finally allowed himself to shed a few tears.
“But enough of all that, give me a summary of today’s reports,” said the king, quickly wiping off his face.
“Are you sure you want to go straight back to work? No one would think anything of it if you clear your schedule for a few days,” said Augustus from his place at the king’s side.
“No, I’m afraid that the kingdom needs its ruler in such trying times as these and I’ve already been away for the first half of a day,” said the old king. “Besides, I could use the work to take my mind off of Julius, especially after that disaster of a funeral.”
The funeral was just this past morning. The king and Augustus had only just returned from it. Both wished fond memories of the fallen crown prince or tears streaming down the faces of the many in attendance were what would be remembered of the event in years to come, but both knew that something far less virtuous would be the first thing on everyone’s minds.
“Yes, Cesar’s behavior was... very characteristic of him,” sighed Augustus, choosing to be diplomatic.
“Characteristic…? I don’t know that I would go that far, but it was a grotesque display. Propositioning your brother’s young widow at his funeral, bellowing it out as loudly as possible….”
“If it helps, Cesar wasn’t necessarily in the clearest state of mind,” said Augustus.
“It doesn’t. Where did I go wrong with that boy? He wasn’t like that when he was younger, but in these past few years…. The people he surrounds himself with… like the young Midas, erghhh. Ah well, enough of my babbling. Get to the reports,” said the king.
“Yes, of course.” Augustus flipped through the papers in his hands to remind himself. “Refugee resettlement is continuing, but still at a much slower pace than required if it is to be completed before winter. The slums at the edges of Castlemere and many of the other cities of the Kingdom are overflowing. Crime is rampant, fueled by growing food shortages that are likely to persist for the foreseeable future.”
“I thought I commissioned a thousand carpenters to build new housing in all the major cities,” said the king.
“Yes you did, but wood shortages are slowing the progress of the carpenters. I had efforts in the worse impacted areas shift from wood to mudbricks, but it requires greater time and manpower,” Augustus explained.
“How would you suggest we speed up the process? Right now, especially with the warmer weather as of late, people can live outside, but this won’t be the case in a few months,” said the king.
It was his duty as their liege to try to do what was best for all of his subjects, but a sense of duty wasn’t the only thing that drove the king into doing this. Many of the nobility may have believed their magic gave them complete supremacy over the commoners, but the old monarch was wise enough to know that wasn’t the case. Mages were supremely outnumbered a thousand to one and the commoners could destroy them all if there was a mass movement to do so. It was in all of their best interest to see that the common folk maintained at least the bare minimum to survive.
“I think we should have a few units from the Mage Union lend a hand,” Augustus suggested. “Their abilities could speed up the process substantially and with the Immortal Legion currently acting as the backbone of the war effort, I think we could spare a few units from the Union, at least for a little while. It wouldn’t even weaken the front by much since many of the cities that are in the greatest need of additional housing happen to be where the Mage Union has people stationed. If something were to happen they’d be there to take back up their arms, so to speak.”
“The nobles will give me an earful for making them stoop so low as to act as construction workers,” said the king.
“Yes, but there isn’t a better way. Remember, the vast majority of the workforce is still desperately expanding our farmlands in the hope of planting food crops before the season grows too late,” said Augustus.
“Fine… Message General Lyndholm and have him reassign the necessary personnel. I’ll deal with the nobility’s discontent. For the time being there are plenty of other things for them to complain about,” said the king. “How are the food shortages?”
“It’s bad, but not any worse than predicted. Many bellies will be grumbling, but we should make it through this winter without too many deaths,” said Augustus. “However, this will empty our granaries. If the new farmland we’re opening up doesn’t prove to be sufficiently fertile….”
“I understand,” said the king. Normally a certain number of farmers were needed to produce a certain amount of food on a certain amount of farmland. When the southern peninsula was taken by the necromancers, many had died but still, a large number of people had relocated to the north. These people still required the same amount to eat as before, necessitating a comparable increase in farming in the central region. The problem was that all of the best farmland in the region was already occupied and it was unclear how productive the newly cultivated land would be. Next year there could be mass starvation if it didn’t prove to be good enough.
“Move onto something else,” said the king. “I could use some good news.”
“I suppose the reports on increased undead incursions on our southern border can wait for a little while,” said Augustus as he started flipping through the pages he was holding. It took him a long moment for him to find something that wasn’t grim in one respect or another. “Ah, here we go. I did as you requested and summoned the heroes that negotiated peace with the beastmen to the capital for a banquet in their honor. They departed from Crystalpeak two days ago.”
“Good. How long until they arrive?” asked the king.
“Five or six days, depending on whether they run into any problems on the road. I’m afraid that with so much of our military focused on the south, the northern roads have grown less secure,” said Augustus.
“Good, they need to be here soon. We’ll need time to prepare and I don’t think we will have much of it,” said the king.
“Need? I don’t understand why this seems so important to you. I mean sure they solved a major issue for the kingdom and deserve to be rewarded, but with so many other things going on, does this deserve your attention?” asked Augustus.
“It’s not about rewarding them or even about what they did. It’s about who one of them is,” said the king.
“I mean, I can understand that it would be nice to have her… But that still isn’t so important… Unless….”
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Augustus’ eyes flashed.
“You intend to….”
“Yes,” the king answered before Augustus could ask. “What? Do you have any better ideas? With the way Cesar is, I don’t see any other way.”
“But what about the court? They won’t like…,” Augustus began.
“Many of them don’t like the way things are headed right now. Don’t like the fact that all of the efforts they’ve spent developing relationships with Julius have been wasted. I think I can convince enough of them to go my way,” said the king.
“If you say so.”
“Start analyzing the court. Create lists of those firmly with or against us and, more importantly, a list of those who could be persuaded,” said the king.
“As you wish, father.”
----------------------------------------
“I can’t believe you did that. It would have been better if you hadn’t gone in the first place than to have done that,” said Anuz Midas. Usually, the young man kept himself restrained and subservient around the Prince, but in this case, he couldn’t help himself.
“What? I never wanted to go in the first place, but you said I had to,” said Cesar.
“All you had to do was sit there. I never suggested you go up and speak. What made you think it was a good idea to go up there and deliver a eulogy on all of your brother’s faults?” asked Anuz.
“What? I just couldn’t stand hearing all those other people saying so many good things about him. I just wanted to make sure that everyone listening got the full picture. I mean… sure, Julius spent some time fighting the undead to the south with the Mage Union, and sure, he volunteered himself in helping construction efforts for the refugees, but he didn’t do any of those things out of some inner purity of his heart,” said Cesar, his voice gradually growing in intensity until it bordered on a shout.
“But all he cared about was all of the praises people sang. Inside he was just as vain and narcissistic as everyone else, as me, if not even more so. His position wasn’t earned. He was born to it. He was just lucky. His only real achievement was that he was able to deceive the general populace for so long. I couldn’t stand these lies holding strong for all time so all I did in speaking was to reveal the truth. What’s so wrong about that?”
“Barring the fact that it is generally considered in poor taste to speak ill of the dead,” Anuz began. “You had the gall to say those things to his widow.”
“What? She’s beautiful, unmarried, and now that I’m next in line to the throne, it’s important that I start securing the line of succession,” said Cesar.
“Perhaps,” said Anuz neutrally. “But this incident stirred up some of the darker rumors that have been spreading about you in recent days.”
“Rumors? What do I care about the prattling of lesser men?” said Cesar.
“You shouldn’t care at all, Your Highness,” Anuz agreed. “So long as it remains just prattling. The real issue is if it turns into something else.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Cesar.
“The rumors are that you were responsible for your brother’s sudden turn in fate,” said Anuz.
“What? But there were a dozen guards around us, many of them mages, and none of them saw me do anything nor were they able to sense me using any sort of magic…,” Cesar raged. “You promised that no one would figure out what we did to the horse.”
“Shhh…. Keep it down, I told you before that we should never speak of it again. It may be safe to speak here, but it would do no good to get into bad habits, Your Highness,” said Anuz. “No one has figured anything out. If they had, we would have been imprisoned by now. As for the rumors, they are only natural considering that you had to personally be present when everything went down.”
Cesar’s face reddened slightly. Anuz had wanted to do it at some random time, but Cesar had demanded that he be present, that he be able to watch.
“Well fine. It’s over then. Why are we still talking about it?” said Cesar.
“Because you badmouthing your brother, you making vulgar attempts at his widow is stirring up the rumors. If it gets bad enough, there might be calls for a more thorough investigation. I did everything in my power to conceal our involvement, but no safeguards are absolute,” said Anuz.
“What should we do?” asked Cesar.
“I will communicate with some of our people and see if we can quiet down some of these rumors. Meanwhile, you will stop blabbing about all the issues you had with your brother. Or better yet, perhaps you should stay out of the eyes of the public entirely. A new shipment has just come in and word has it that this batch is the purest yet,” said Anuz.
Anuz Midas walked across his office to a large wooden chest sitting in one corner. He reached inside, grabbed one of the many identical fist-sized burlap pouches, and tossed it to Cesar. Cesar caught the bag and immediately pulled it close to his chest.
“Don’t just toss this stuff around like that,” said Cesar, clutching the pouch-like it held the most precious thing in the world.
“There’s plenty more,” said Anuz.
“Yet the amount is finite, so all of it is precious especially since you keep giving away so much of it,” said Cesar.
“Very well, highness. In the future, I will not toss it around,” said Anuz. “However, I would like to remind you that I’m not just giving it away. It is what funds all of our operations and shores up your support with a bond firmer than any promise. They need us because without us they lose access to the dust.”
“Sure, I understand all that,” said Cesar. “How about your espionage and alchemy experts? Have they figured out the formula yet?”
“No, that is proving more difficult than originally thought,” said Anuz. “Something about unique organic compounds never before seen in any known plant species.”
“What!? How are we in control of the situation if we aren’t in control of the substance? At any time they could cut us off and all of our plans will be ruined,” said Cesar.
“I know, but that isn’t too worrisome,” said Anuz. “You know our suppliers and they don’t have the connections necessary to operate things. They need us as much as we need them. Our bond is the tightest that can exist, mutually beneficial.”
“Alright, but I still want you to figure out how to make the dust. Everything must be done to ensure its continued supply,” said Cesar.
“Of course, Your Highness,” Anuz agreed.
“Now, when can we proceed to the next step. Getting rid of Julius was good but we have a long way to go before I have my kingdom,” said Cesar.
“One step at a time, My Prince,” said Anuz. “We must wait until the king officially declares you as his heir apparent and entrusts you with the secrets of the Divine Array. Then we’ll be free to move out whenever we want.”
----------------------------------------
“So from the sound of things, General Cerberus’ operations in the Eastern continents have all gone smoothly?” Apollyon asked as he skimmed through the written report.
“Y-yes, s-sir,” Mord stammered. “Except for the draconoids, who have a natural resistance towards our soldiers’ fire attributes, we’ve successfully taken all of the major cities. From there we have begun to spread out and expect to take all the smaller towns within the next few months. All organized resistance against us should be removed within the year.”
“Good,” Apollyon nodded. “I assume we have a plan to take care of the draconoids.”
“Philestes has two options pending your approval,” said Mord. “First, he’s had the science division develop an airborne toxin specifically to work against draconoids. Unfortunately, the concentrations needed to kill a full-grown draconoid has proved to be too great, at least thus far. If deployed now, the toxin wouldn’t kill the draconoids but would render them sterile. Then, it would only be a matter of two or three centuries for them to all die out.”
“I know that our glorious return to the surface has taken millennia and in light of that, a few additional centuries may not seem like much, but that is still far too long. Besides, if we do it that way, the draconoids will be completely wiped out, depriving us of the breeding stock necessary to spawn slaves capable of serving in Gehenna,” said Apollyon. “What is the second option?”
“The second option is to hold off for the time being. Once we’ve completely subdued the rest of the continent, we’ll be able to conscript warrior slaves from the nearby countries, merge them with our freed up forces, and take out the draconoids with overwhelming force.”
“So we won’t be in complete control of the Eastern hemisphere for two to three years. I can live with that,” said Apollyon noncommittally, allowing Mord to take a breath of relief. He was only the messenger, but Mord knew Apollyon could crush him in a second if displeased. “Now, give me a rundown of the situation in the Western hemisphere.”
“Things in the western hemisphere are also advancing although perhaps not as quickly as was hoped. While our flesh animator allies have successfully inserted spies among the human forces, they still haven’t been able to overcome the magical defensive array originating from the human capital. The spies have been steadily working to remove the defensive sigil, but since they are normally stationed on the frontline, over 100 miles away from the array, they haven’t seen much success as of yet,” Mord explained.
“And what exactly is being done to correct this problem?” Apollyon asked.
Apollyon had thought it a great boon when the flesh animators quickly aligned themselves with daemonkind as soon as they became aware of their renewed activity on the surface. All they’d need to do was provide some technological and strategic assistance, allowing the daemons to focus their limited forces on taking the Eastern continents. However, it hadn’t been working so smoothly thus far.
While the plague daemon scientists engineered to take out the insectoids infesting the Southwestern continent had been effective at first, the bugs adapted surprisingly quickly so the flesh animators had only been able to seize a quarter of the continent before their advance was halted.
As for the Northwestern continent, while alterations of the climate had, as predicted, destabilized the northernmost shapeshifters and brought them into conflict with their southern neighbors, the fall of Niflheim and the abatement of those alterations allowed the situation to normalize in recent months.
“The new Soul Emperor, Nazir Utril, believes that his current approach will eventually produce results. He simply asks for some patience as well as perhaps a daemon operator capable of keeping an eye on things in the human capital on a more permanent basis,” said Mord.
“I thought the whole point of having allies was so that we wouldn’t have to dedicate our forces directly,” Apollyon sighed. “Oh well, I suppose this is only for one more soldier. Go ahead and give the shriveled elf his covert operative. Perhaps we can spare one of the men scouring the ocean for the Adversary’s former capital.”
The total daemon population was only slightly more than a million. Only a small percentage were capable of surviving the relatively glacial surface on their own and even fewer were also capable of shapeshifting or otherwise concealing themselves so that they might blend in among the various races. The few daemons that met all these requirements were key to Apollyon’s various plots and were busy wherever they were deployed. They didn’t have any operatives to spare so if Apollyon wanted to aid the flesh animators he’d normally have to divert focus from elsewhere.
“Very good sir,” Mord nodded making a quick note on his notepad. “As for the operative, we could reassign assets searching for the ruins of Atlantis, but there is another option.”
“What do you have in mind?” Apollyon asked.
“The new Gehennan bio-magical technology division chief, Malphestos, has recently succeeded in inserting an artificial neural command implant into a succubus. The device has passed all the lab tests and Malphestos has recently requested deploying it for a field test,” said Mord.
“Malphestos…? He is the scientist who created the augmented murlimp soldiers that have proved themselves so useful on the Eastern continent. I’ve looked forward to this upcoming project of his,” Apollyon nodded. A rare smile appeared on the lord of hell’s face. “If he says it’s ready for a field test, then go ahead.”
“Yes sir,” said Mord, making another note.
“Now that it’s come up, how are our efforts in the ocean search going? Are the merpeople still presenting problems?” Apollyon asked.
“O-one moment please,” said Mord, suddenly panicking as he shuffled through the report he’d compiled. Ocean progress hadn’t been something he’d planned to discuss this evening. Apollyon wasn’t the type to forgive even the slightest errors from those around him. Fortunately for Mord, he was spared from having Apollyon notice his unpreparedness.
Bbrrring. Brriiing. Bbrriing. Apollyon’s cellphone, a disgusting but necessary device in this human infested world rang on the table a few feet away. Not many people had that number so Apollyon knew it had to be important.
“At ease. I’m taking this,” said Apollyon.
Mord bowed and quickly excused himself from the room. Apollyon hadn’t specifically requested this, but Mord still left the room since it would give him a moment to review the oceanic operations without Apollyon seeing.
“Hello,” Apollyon answered the phone.
“Is this Harold Marigold, the very rich, very smart guy who runs a lot of television stuff?” asked a man with a thick New York accent on the other end of the line.
“Yes,” Apollyon answered. He recognized the voice but pretended not to.
Harold Marigold was the human identity Apollyon had assumed after coming to this world. Harold had been a multi-billionaire media mogul who lived and worked from his Manhattan office before he was reduced to ash and relocated to a trash bin. In the last two years, Apollyon had made good use of this identity, giving him both a clear view of even the most secretive undercurrents of Earth society and a hand in influencing things behind the scenes for the betterment of daemonkind.
“Please hold for the President of these United States,” said the man shortly before there was a rustling noise and an off-pitch recording of ‘Hail to the Chief’ started playing. Apollyon hated having been made to wait by a human especially for such a foolish ploy, but if this call was what he thought it was, Apollyon knew it would all be worth it.
“Hey, Harry. It’s your president. Thanks for taking the call,” said the president, after making Apollyon wait for nearly five minutes.
“No problem at all, Mr. President,” Apollyon replied, pretending not to notice that the voice of the president was identical to the voice that had put him on hold in the first place. “I know that whatever you want to talk about at this late hour must be important. I hope it’s not that you have to cancel our weekly tee time, I always look forward to that.”
“No. Of course, I wouldn’t be missing that. I always feel much better after one of our games,” said the president. Apollyon had used their weekly tee times to refresh and adjust the subtle mental compulsions he’d placed on the president. “But I’m afraid I’m calling you about another matter.”
“Oh…. As always, I’m an open ear,” said Apollyon.
“Well…,” the president hesitated. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about this thing going on with Jeffy-boy and the recent news reports about some very bad looking behavior of his.”
“I’m aware of the situation,” said Apollyon, you’d have to be living under a rock to not know about all the cringe-worthy details of this story.
“Well, I don’t quite understand why it matters quite so much. I mean it’s bad and wrong and all that but I mean it was just some photographs. It’s not like he personally did anything and he was still doing a good job and the economy numbers are doing just great for almost everyone. So if you sum things up he’s still doing good things, but my people told me that with all the public people complaining since the brainwashing of the no-good mainstream media, I had no choice but to fire Jeff this morning,” said the president.
“I heard about the tweet, Mr. President,” said Apollyon.
“Well, I had no choice but to do it that way after he was put under house arrest…,” the president began defensively.
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t accusing you…. I mean think how efficient doing things that way is. You don’t have to invite them in, slowly doll out the bad news, and then deal with whatever angry response they produce. The way you do it seems much easier,” said Apollyon.
“It often is,” the president agreed. “If only more people saw things the way you always seem to. Ahh, well. I guess that’s why I like you so much.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” said Apollyon.
“In any case, back to what I wanted to talk to you about. With Jeff gone, I have an opening in my cabinet. I could really use your help in the Department of Energy now, my friend.”
“Oh, wow I really hadn’t been expecting this,” Apollyon lied. “Are you sure you want me? You know that energy isn’t exactly my field of expertise.”
“That doesn’t matter. It’s just a managerial position anyway. You’re very smart and look the part. You’ll instill a lot of confidence in the markets. If it helps, your country needs you. So don’t screw around with me and just say yes,” said the president.
“Very well. If you put it that way Mr. President, I have no choice but to acquiesce.”
“Aquise? Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
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Hssssssss.
A geyser of opaque gasses shot out of the edges of the containment unit filling the cluttered laboratory before revealing the unconscious succubus within. The succubus showed signs of stirring but had yet to completely awaken.
“Good to see you again on this most fine day,” Malphestos smiled, he was in a great mood after all his waiting he’d finally been given the red light. “I finally got approval to send you out on a field test. What do you think, Lilith?”
The succubus’ eyes snapped open, reacting to the sound of her name. This much, Malphestos had expected. The next event, not so much.
“You bastard. I know everything you’ve done to me. I’m still awake in here when that thing is in control,” Lilith screamed. She immediately charged at Malphestos, her arms fully extended to claw her tormentor’s eyes out.
Thunk.
Four restraints, one connected to each of her limbs, kept Lilith a few inches short of her target.
“Dammit. This isn’t the end. I don’t know how, but I swear if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll personally see you freeze alive in a pit of liquid nitrogen for this. Just you wait, I’ll…,” Lilith continued until Malphestos moved to a nearby control console and pressed a few buttons.
Lilith froze. She remained standing but her arms fell limp to her sides and while her eyes remained open, they were completely still as if in a daze.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean… I didn’t know that the chip was inactive,” said Malphestos’ latest assistant, a middle-aged djinn, who fell to his knees, begging Malphestos for forgiveness. He’d known about Malphestos’ reputation before he’d been forced to take this assignment.
“Don’t worry. Mistakes like this happen,” said Malphestos.
“Please, sir. Forgive me. It was just an accident,” the djinn continued.
“Really, it’s alright,” said Malphestos, reaching down to pull the djinn to his feet. “No damage, no wrong. Really, I hold some responsibility for this; I was attempting to correct the chip’s weakness to soul magic last night. I should have checked to make sure it was still active before I left.”
“Thank you, sir. It won’t happen again. I promise,” said the djinn, his jackhammering heart finally steadying. The djinn moved to return to his post at one of the sensor readouts, but suddenly, Malphestos’ hand flashed out and grasped the djinn by his throat.
“You’re right. It won’t happen again,” Malphestos smiled, taking sadistic pleasure in snuffing out the faint glimmer of hope that he’d given the djinn a moment before.
The djinn assistant’s eyes bulged. The natural heat given off by his body doubled, an instinctual defense response, but it could do nothing to Malphestos. The djinn tried to say something, tried to defend himself in some way, but in Malphestos’ tight grip nothing came out except for a few hoarse screeches.
“Don’t worry… Alternatively, perhaps you should worry a great deal more, depending on your point of view. You’ll survive this day. Lilith will be leaving soon and I’ll be needing a new test subject,” said Malphestos.
The djinn raked his claws across Malphestos’ arms as Malphestos walked them both across the room and retrieved a needle. After a quick injection, the djinn was rendered unconscious and dropped to the laboratory floor.
“Now what was I doing?” Malphestos turned to look over the entirety of his laboratory. “Ah, yes. Lilith, Command Prompt.”
Malphestos walked back to Lilith’s side.
“Bio-chip Control Version 7.8c. Subject: Lilith Demogorgon, ready and awaiting new mission parameters,” said Lilith in a dull listless tone.
“Go to the test room and run a full system diagnostic. I need to make sure you’re in peak condition before you’re deployed,” Malphestos commanded.
Lilith walked over to the adjacent room, a large empty chamber. Once Lilith centered herself, she proceeded to test the motion of every one of her muscles, first by weirdly extending her limbs in various stationary stretching positions before switching to a set of complicated acrobatic maneuvers. Once a full compilation of acrobatics was completed, Lilith shifted to casting every sort of magic she was capable of.
Normally, Malphestos would have let the chip do its work on its own, allowing him to spend his precious time working on something else, but he didn’t do that this time. Malphestos watched as Lilith completed all these tasks. He had to make sure everything was functioning perfectly. Once Lilith had drained the majority of her mana on a final display of her fiery arsenal, she returned to Malphestos’ side.
“System diagnostic complete. Muscle control, 97%. Mana control, 63%. Mental constraint of the host is also well within the system’s tolerance,” Lilith reported.
“Hmmm, magic control is still low, but I guess it’ll have to do. No project is without room for improvement,” Malphestos sighed to himself before taking up a datapad and passing it to Lilith. “Take this. Review its contents and use it to update your mission parameters.”
Even when Lilith reached the surface for her mission, Malphestos would be monitoring her and if needed take more direct control. Nevertheless, he truly hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. What use would an enslavement chip have if you had to remain in direct control all the time if the subject couldn’t use their problem-solving abilities to find a solution to whatever challenges that came up?