X
In the Caverns, the Archivist took out frustrations on a
hapless deconstructionist. The man hadn’t done anything in particular
to deserve punishment. However, someone had to be chastised for the loss
of Kean, Lorcan and Niamh. This one had been offered up as sacrifice by
his squad, no one else willing to shoulder the blame.
Deep in
the darkness of the Caverns, the feral machines screamed, hungry for the
blood they could smell. The eeriness of it made everyone’s hackles
rise, though no one moved until the victim was unconscious. As soon as
he fainted, the Archivist had him removed and fed to the Howlers.
For
a moment an oppressive silence filled the Caverns. The Archivist looked
around, feeling the weight of stone and hunger. It was naturally
beautiful here, such a conflict with the terrible things committed in
the darkness of various recesses. The Howlers began to make themselves
heard, feeding on not just flesh, but the screams and the fear as well.
They echoed in every tunnel. The Archivist shivered and fled to the
Cells.
The Howlers never left the Caverns, their minds so
hideously warped by torture they couldn’t even be reset. They were
malformed; shuffling through the darkness, skin only partially attached
revealing the mechanisms beneath. They were ravenous monstrosities,
devouring anything biologically organic, though they had no reason to
eat. All the androids and gynoids were threatened with the Howlers,
especially if a reset was out of the question.
The
deconstructionists had tracked Kean to the end of an alley, but no
further. She seemed to have vanished without a trace, as she had so many
years before.
This time, however, failure was not an option. She
must be found and brought in alive. She must be broken and pressed into
service.
As the very last of the demi-god Septemberists, she must be harnessed.
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