I return to the White City and walk slowly back into the apartment I had built for myself. I didn't feel like having some sort of manor built for me, it's just a simple house, much like the one from Yotesden, the only difference to others in the White City is the wall surrounding a small garden in the front. It has all I need, a lounge, a kitchen and dining area, and a bedroom that also works as a study, this last room takes up the entire second floor. while everything else is contained on the first.

I come through my door slowly, my head hung low and an urn in my hands. I set my mom on top of the hearth and I slump down on my couch. I rub my tired eyes as I just sit there as the golden rays of the afternoon sun turn to red. I continue sitting there, trying not to think for a while as the red turns to a dull purple. The hearth is ash and cold as the purple gives way to darkness, a darkness that now embraces me as I just sit there. Face in my hands, sad, angry, and so full of emotion it's hard to come to terms with it all. In such a short time, I did such heinous actions... I don't know if my own mother could forgive me for them all...

At some point, I realize I am alone in the darkness and I stand up, trudging up the stairs and into my bedroom and study. I strip out of my armor and put my weapons away. In the pale light coming from the moon through my window, I can see the armor that I made out of Silus. It hangs from the wall, empty and heavily damaged. I make a mental note to repair it later, but the night is too late and I don't have any tools to work on it.

I sit on my bed for a second but find I am not feeling sleepy, so I head over to my desk, and with a striker, I ignite an oil lamp. I grab a small strip of soft leather and what is effectively a primitive pencil using graphite much like the ones I am familiar with. Using a small knife I sharpen it and spread a large sheet of paper out across my desk.

I begin drawing plans, using the soft leather much like a rudimentary eraser, it's not perfect but better than nothing when it comes to fixing my mistakes. Admittedly I am a pretty terrible artist, and detail is lacking but the concepts are made clear. Prior to my current plans, I was going to try and make this design in a few years, taking my time with getting the technologies more mature before advancing them further. Now, I need them.

I always understood once I developed the first ironclad ships, no matter how closely I guarded the powerplant technologies, someone would make something similar or figure it out on their own. Luckily the Alrius Kingdom hasn't had border wars or anything as such, that would've resulted in other kingdoms developing the technology themselves or at least creating countermeasures. The only ones who have faced my ironclads, no longer exist and their entire kingdom is burning thanks to a massive civil war and slave revolt. Since my plans will result in me quarreling with the Alrius Kingdom, who have a small fleet of ironclads, I must create the next step in the evolution of metal ships.

This results in my idea of a dreadnaught-style airship. While nowhere near as large as a real battleship, it in theory will be the best counterplay possible. I am simply designing the concept, but will leave it to Markus and the actual engineers to make it a reality to the best they can, but I make note of some specifications that are a must.

First, a belt armor of almost 10 inches, immune to powerful magic, and highly resistant to cannon shots. Second, all guns forward design, the bridge will sit in the stern section with two turrets on the dorsal and ventral side. Then since the ship is tapered toward the front, at least three sponsons along the sides for broadsiding and more firepower. The bow will also be designed with extra armor to balance against the bridge and for ramming. My drawing includes secondary batteries of cannon, but I note these are not required. Last is the caliber, I decided the main turrets would have twin 12-inch guns (305mm), and I already have an idea of how to create a proper anti-armor shell, and a new idea for a gunsight and rangefinder, but I think someone else is already figuring both of these out.

I keep working through the darkness, replacing the lamp oil three times through the night. Then I hear the front door open. Someone moves through my apartment and gently walks up the stairs. Just by her stride, I can tell it's Mekare. I don't look up from my work as she enters the second floor. I ask,

"How was your trip?"

She makes a sudden gasp as if I startled her before she replies,

"Oh, it was fine. I got to see my mother and some... friends..."

I grunt in reply as she walks over to my desk and looks down at what I'm working on. She asks,

"What is that? Are the ones you've built so far not enough?"

I respond sharply,

"Nothing that can be improved is ever good enough. "

I can only imagine that she frowns at this response before she sighs and steps away. She tells me,

"Well... It's been such a loooonnggg trip and I'm sure you missed me, master. I'm going to bed... I would prefer the other side of it to be warm."

She then heads over to my bed and I hear the distinct sounds of her stripping. I lean to my side and grab something off of the floor. The lamp begins flickering on my desk as the oil runs out once more. The pale moon shines through the window illuminating the very well-built figure of Mekare as she prepares for bed facing away from me. She pauses when she hears me stand and begin approaching. I can make out the edges of a smile on her face as she lets her tail curl. I hear her breath quicken when I get close. She then inhales sharply and stiffens her posture as cold steel presses against her back, right between the shoulder blades and right along her spine. The sword that was leaning against my desk, now pressed against her naked body.

We stand like that for a while, me holding my blade against her and she holding still out of fear. I take this moment to fight the urge to simply drive my blade forward, to kill the succubus who represents another chain on my wrists. While she failed to seduce me, or use whatever odd magic is under her control she represents the Dukes' control over me. or at least attempt at control. She is a spy who lies in my damn bed. Her constant fucking attempts only serve to piss me off, her disregard for my personal space, and everything she is and represents makes me angry. The more I think about it, the more I imagine it, my grip tightens further as I prepare to thrust the blade forward.

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Mekare for her part doesn't move. She stands stock still, even her tail is frozen stiff. After an agonizing moment that goes on forever, she speaks, asking a careful question,

"I could tell I missed something while I was gone... what was it?"

Somehow her words hit something soft inside me. I know it's not her magic because she has admitted and I have experienced her best efforts have no to little effect on me. It's not that, it was simply the correct question to ask. I feel my eyes water as guilt and sadness eat away at me. At this moment I am weak and at a disadvantage even though I have the sword in my hand. I lower the blade and walk back toward my desk, I tell her while trying to hide the tears in my voice,

"Go to bed...Nothing happened that is a concern to you..."

I sit down back into the chair at my desk, the wood creaks in protest as I throw myself down while wiping my eyes. I hold the pencil in my hand as if I were about to continue my work, but I don't bother relighting the lamp. I'm trying to pretend, even to myself, that I am hard at work, the past has not happened. The sword clatters to the ground as I drop it, not caring about it for the moment.

I hear bare footsteps grow close and a thin hand grabs mine, removing the pencil from my admittedly loose grip. I stare at the paper before me, the darkness shrouding the dreadnaught from sight. I don't look up at her as she steps around the desk and sits on one of the corners closest to me. I ask flatly,

"Do succubi have parents?"

She pauses and responds gently,

"Yes, how do you think we come about?"

I shake my head and respond,

"I just didn't know if things were the same... do you love your parents Mekare?"

I hear her take a long breath, one that I recognize as the response of someone who has suddenly understood a situation. She whispers quietly to herself,

"Oh shit..."

I answer her question before it is asked,

"On the hearth downstairs... there is an urn. Within it is my mother... back in Yotesden, my home, and a grave for my people, my father is buried in my backyard. I lit the funeral pyre for my mother, and I dug the hole and collected the bones of my father. Neither of them saw fifty years of age... neither of them watched their son become a man, and neither had the opportunity to become grandparents.

I have done things... many things that even my own mother would find hard to forgive. You know a few of them well as you assisted me in these actions. I butchered two innocent women recently...justified by a lie using my mother as the basis for it... at the core of the lie...

I saw what was done to her...

no burn... no cut... no whipping...no starvation...no humiliation...no bodily shaming ever came close to the pain I felt seeing her... what had happened even though I know the exact pain she suffered... what I felt imagining the horrors committed against me... being committed against her...it hurt a hundred times worse, to the point where I felt as if I was about to die...but... the one responsible for her death..."

I look up at Mekare who stares back at me with horror in her eyes as I finish my statement,

"...Is Me..."

I don't sob... but tears stream down my eyes as I look at the woman. There is a glimmer of sympathy from what I can see in the pale light of the moon. Her eyes shine for a moment, not with magic, but with tears, as she attempts to imagine herself in a similar situation and in failing to do so gets wet in the eyes. I then ask her,

"Your ability... the one where you make someone addicted to yourself... can it drown out feeling? Like a drink or a drug? Can you destroy all that I am? Just numb myself, dull this terrible pit within me? Fill me with lust or false love? Anything at all?

If so... have your way... ruin me as you want. Feed off of me as needed until you are so full you are about to burst... do as you need...I don't care anymore..."

Mekare responds,

"Fuck me... that is terrible...I don't know what to say... "

I throw my hands into the air and my voice raises slightly,

"Isn't that what you want out of me? Why hesitate now?"

She shakes her head and tells me,

"I can't say that was ever what I really wanted out of you... per se... more so it's a means to an end... or a meal...Isa... I... no... I don't know, this is way out of my depth to deal with... I am sorry to hear this happened to you, I cannot imagine what it feels like..."

I take a long breath and a moment to right myself. I calm myself down but don't feel any better. Aside from the moments surrounding my mother's death, I haven't done anything to purge the negative emotions from myself. I've only added to my negative mental state, as pitiful as I am being, it feels somewhat good to let it out even if it was done in a less-than-good way. At least it was Mekare in the danger zone, not someone I would really give a damn about. With another deep breath, I say to her,

"My bad... It's just been... difficult. I don't think I'll ever be fully right again...

Simply put, I am done being bossed around by anyone and you... well, I'm not entirely sure who you work for or why, but regardless you are an attachment to Duke Hasslerouge even if you aren't his servant or whatever."

She responds,

"I am not under his service, I only reported back to him on you to keep my cover..."

I nod and ask,

"Now tell me... why should I allow you to continue living? "

Her posture straightens as she realizes my breakdown doesn't mean I am no longer dangerous. She then responds,

"You should let me live because we can help one another... and no I do not mean by the reputation of my kind."

I exhale sharply, amused for the moment. I ask,

"Then enlighten me on what you offer."

She then explains the entire plan of the Demon King. From the goals of the succubi as infiltrators into the human kingdoms. Their job is to gather intelligence, and allies, and potentially remove the supposed many heroes across all the kingdoms. She then explains the overall goal of the Demon King wishing to conquer the entire world, but admits to not understanding the reasoning, simply stating that she herself is a servant under him and has no method to resist. Her offer is for me to work alongside or under the Demon King and gain the support of their forces.

With a whole new situation clear to me I have to make a decision and I respond with a question,

"What do you want Mekare? In your deepest desires."

This catches her on the back foot. Her entire explanation sounded practiced like a sales pitch from a car dealer. She thinks for a moment before responding,

"I... my goals are for the glory of the Demon King."

I tap my desk impatiently and after a moment of silence she breaks and answers what I assume is more truthfully,

"What I want... more than anything else in the world... It's probably similar to your goals... I do not want to serve anyone... but I...and my kind do not have the power to resist."

I strike the iron while it is hot,

"How about you reach for that goal? We both can push toward our goals, against and around those who we currently serve."

She laughs while shaking her head and responding,

"Now that is a deal... I won't swear to that idea yet... as I am not sure you can pull this off. Right now I will get the Demon Kings support in order to achieve your goal... afterward... how about we work on mine."

I respond,

"Sounds like a deal to me."

She responds in a sultry tone,

"Are you sure you want to make a deal with a demon?"

I respond back in a similar tone,

"If my deal is with a demon, yours is with the devil himself."

In that darkness, both of mind and of the night, two conspiracies to become free began...