Heavy boots echoed through dark tunnels as Acolyte Davros Savilette made his way to Lab 13. 

He took a stiff breath of humid air, rubbing sweat from his bald head in annoyance. 

Davros hated making this trip. Venturing into the Districts was a chore, but District 13... Even with Crecius' efforts, there was no way to dispel the scent of poverty.

"Should we tell the Lord, Sir?" A blockish looking Acolyte asked beside him.

"Our Lord’s time is valuable, Dipple. He cannot be bothered with common concerns." Davros replied. "Let's see what the Scholar has in store, first."

Dipple nodded his understanding.

He was a good Acolyte, even if he was from a hayseed house in the Skirts. Unfortunately, being a hayseed meant he could never be trusted to report on an incident like this. A proper executive was needed. A Blessed of Kaden City stock.

The two Acolytes reached a heavy steel door.

Dipple handed Davros the blue crystal lantern. He moved to the door, swinging it wide with a mighty pull.

They were greeted on the other side by a short man in purple and white scholar's robes. The scientist had his head bowed low in deference.

"Qorvast." 

Davros addressed the researcher. 

"Which of your creatures is causing trouble today?"

The scholar raised his balding head from its subservient tilt. 

He had a harried look about him, which was not unusual for the fidgety academic.

"Apologies, Sir." The man squeaked out, glasses pinching the bridge of his nose. "I would not have sent for you if it were not truly urgent."

Davros squinted, eyes struggling in the darkness of the cavernous lab. Glowing lights of varying colors hovered in the distance.

"Let's walk and talk." He suggested, allowing Acolyte Dipple and the anxious Qorvast to take the lead. "What are we dealing with?"

"It's Subject 9, sir." The researcher started. "We've lost containment."

"Naturally." Davros grimaced. 

Subject 9 was the only thing here worth his time.

Well…

Subject 3 had some merit.

"When did this happen?" He asked, approaching two rows of massive glass tubes, each extending from mounts on the floor and into a network of thick tree roots along the ceiling.

"We don't know." The scholar muttered. 

The shifty man turned his head, shying away from Davros’ piercing gaze. 

"There is evidence that the breach may have been concealed from us. I'm looking into it."

The group moved between aisles of tubes. Most were dark and empty, but some were still lit. Filled with viscous fluids glowing with complex magics. Forbidden magics. Magics that gave life to the wretched creatures within.

"So, why am I here, Qorvast?” Davros asked, throwing an expectant look at the scientist. “We have protocols for this, yes?" 

"Of--Of course, Sir." The man stammered. "Protocol is to liquidate the subject when a breach is discovered."

"And?" The Executive pressed.

"Well-- It's--" The researcher began, struggling to find the right words. "It's just--"

"It's best you see for yourself, Sir." Dipple cut in.

Davros narrowed his eyes at the two men.

Sweat glistened on their anxious faces.

Qorvast’s work had always made him feel queasy. His success’ could be considered abominations at best, but his failures… Davros could hardly imagine.

Thunk.

A muffled thud caught the Acolytes' attention. He scanned the room, identifying the source.

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It was one of the glass cylinders nearest to him. He focused in, eyes alighting on a tube with a deep purple glow.

The Executive smiled at the familiar creature within. 

Soon my sweet. He mused. We'll have our time.

"It's this way, Sir." Came the hesitant voice of Scholar Qorvast. 

The two men had moved ahead while Davros was distracted. They were waiting by a hallway at the end of the aisle.

The Executive moved to join his colleagues, not sparing a second glance for the glowing purple cylinder and the writhing woman within.

"It's just down this hall, Sir."

Dipple gestured down the curved corridor.

Davros raised an eyebrow. 

Neither of his companions had made any moves to enter the dark passage. 

Qorvast reached out a hand, offering the Executive a gold ringlet with dark stones set on both ends.

"You'll want to wear this, Sir." The researcher muttered, head bowed. 

Davros looked at the device skeptically, then glanced at Dipple who was busy fastening one around his own neck.

"It's called a suppressor." Qorvast explained. "It's a necessary precaution, to prevent the Entity's more volatile energies from corrupting you."

The Acolyte frowned at the nervous researcher. Sweat now covered the man's face. 

He glanced back at Dipple, who seemed unaffected by the collar.

Davros sighed, moving to clip the device around his throat.

"You might feel a bit of disassociation at first." The Researcher warned.

The device clicked into place around the Executives neck. 

His eyes widened.

Disassociation was an understatement. He'd been separated from his well of magic.

Concerned, but not quite panicked, Davros tapped into that well.

He relaxed as the power swelled. It was a bit harder to reach, but still there. 

His nerves settled, and soon, blessedly, the feeling faded, his body adjusting to the sensation.

He gave the Scholar a withering look. 

The man’s cheeks twitched in embarrassment.

"Shall we continue?" 

Qorvast motioned to the dark corridor.

Davros nodded for them to continue.

The trio moved along the tunnel, hard boots echoing against the walls.

The lights of the lab behind them winked out as they passed the horizon of the curved hall. Only the subtle glow of Dipples' lamp remained.

They walked on, the lamp's crystals casting jagged shadows across the narrow space.

Davros’ brow furrowed.

Something had shifted.

There was a new presence in the atmosphere. 

A foreign energy. 

It pushed against them, pulsing. 

Davros gritted his teeth.

This power was incredible. He could feel it trying to grip him, subvert his defenses, invade his mind. 

The Executive was suddenly very glad for the suppressor around his neck. He could tell the effect of the entity was not quite as potent as it might have been.

They pressed forward. 

The energy grew stronger with every step, waves of power acting on them like a physical force. It was constant, like a warm gust of wind lapping against his skin. Even the blue light from the lamp rippled in tune, causing their shadows to dance across the walls.

"Here it is." Qorvast said, voice quivering under the pressure of the Entity.

They’d arrived at a heavy steel door with a hatch wheel in the center.

Acolyte Dipple dropped the lamp, moving to turn the wheel. 

He grabbed both sides, giving a great heave.

Thunk.

The Sound echoed down the corridor, thrumming through them.

Dipple looked back to Davros, seeking permission.

Davros nodded.

The door swung wide.

His breath caught.

They were now exposed to the full power of the Entity.

It washed across them like an ocean current, oppressive, unflinching, unending.

Dipple and the Scholar stepped back in surprise, raising their hands against the waves of energy.

Executive Davros Savilette stepped forward.

A smile bloomed on his frown lined face.

It was beautiful, incredible. A darkness so vast…

He stared at it, eyes glowing with rapturous splendor.

The black mass of horrifying magic pulsed with unquenchable thirst, drawing in all light around it.

Its power rippled against reality, warping it, changing it.

"Magnificent." Davros whispered, the words disappeared into the cacophony of power around him.

The Executive frowned, hearing a yell beside him.

"My Lord?"

It was the researcher.

The man had a hand held out, trying to block the waves of energy. Sweat streaked diagonally across his cheeks, pressed back by the everpresent power.

"What am I looking at, Qorvast?" Davros shouted. 

Rushing energy echoed through his ears.

"The inner core, sir!" The Researcher yelled back.

"Inner Core?"

He gave the scholar a confused look. 

"There's an area of effect that extends beyond this chamber, Sir. It's almost undetectable." The man shouted. "We don't know what it's doing, but we're calling that the outer core."

"How far does it go?" Davros asked, turning his head toward the bookish man.

"We don't know." The harried man replied, eyes affixed to the dark mass.

"Well, you'd best figure it out, Scholar!" Davros advised. "'I don't know' is not an answer our Lord accepts."

The Researcher nodded.

The Executive smiled.

This was why he'd chosen Lord Crecius among all the other offers.

To see such wonders.

A virgin unknown.

A transcendent force.

What a wonderful night this turned out to be.