"Now, let's stop wasting any more time," the woman said, her voice steady, calm, yet carrying an edge of command.
Violet eidra shimmered along her hand, wrapping her fingers in a serpentine glow that pulsed faintly with power.
"Bring out your hand and we will complete the contract."
Rox tilted her head slightly, her tone dry.
"Do I need to… like, take off my gloves?"
"No need," the woman replied promptly, her words clipped, her eyes unwavering as she waited for Rox to comply.
Rox gave a subtle nod before slowly raising her right hand, her movements reluctant but deliberate, until her palm hovered in front of the woman.
The woman closed her eyes then, her lips parting just enough to let a stream of words slip through—
"Eiskravken… in servkhan ex sruviya… mumble*"
an ancient tongue, low and deliberate, almost like a chant.
The sound was faint, yet it carried an uncanny weight, each syllable vibrating in the air as though the tent itself strained to listen.
The scroll responded immediately.
It began to whirr with power, its runes igniting brighter, weaving together into flowing shapes.
Then, like serpents breaking free, two ribbons of mist shot outward—each inscribed with transparent, ghostly runes.
One mist slithered toward the woman's hand, the other toward Rox's.
The moment they touched, both women felt it.
A sharp searing sensation lanced across the tops of their hands—not unbearable, but deep, primal, like a mark being etched straight into the soul.
Rox's jaw clenched at the sting, her fingers twitching before she forced herself to keep them still.
The woman didn't flinch, her composure rigid, though the faint tightening of her brow betrayed that she too felt the burn.
Seconds stretched until finally the scroll's glow dimmed.
The mists dissolved into nothing, their ghostly language evaporating into the air.
With a faint hiss, the parchment itself crumbled into fragments of ash that drifted downward before vanishing entirely against the floor.
Rox lowered her hand slowly, flexing her fingers as if testing them.
A faint warmth lingered just beneath her glove, a reminder of what had just been sealed.
"Now…" the woman spoke at last, her piercing gaze locking onto Rox's.
"We are branded."
Rox flexed her hand again, staring at her gloved palm as if trying to see the mark hidden beneath the fabric.
The warmth still lingered, pulsing faintly like a reminder of chains she couldn't see but now felt bound to. She let out a sharp exhale through her helmet's filters.
"So… what happens now?" Rox finally asked, her voice flat, though the question carried a weight of unease.
The woman, still composed, tilted her head slightly, violet light flickering in her eyes before fading.
She clasped her hands behind her back and answered with calm authority.
"Now, you follow me."
Rox narrowed her eyes, but after a brief pause, she nodded once.
With little choice left, she fell in step just behind the woman.
They moved through a narrow passage of the tent, the heavy fabric swaying slightly with each breeze.
The muffled sounds of activity outside blended with the faint hum of machinery inside. Soon, the cramped space opened into another section of the massive headquarters.
This area was alive with movement.
Dozens of cloaked figures milled about, each hunched over datapads, terminals, or glowing crystalline projectors.
Holographic maps of star systems flickered in the air, runic coordinates marking key sectors. Others whispered in low, hurried voices, their words laced with tension.
"…fleet movements near the Black Veil…"
"…supplies from the Crimson Route delayed again…"
"…target's location confirmed, but the cost will be steep…"
The woman led Rox deeper still, weaving past rows of data-brokers hunched over their work, their faces hidden beneath hoods as glowing runes flickered across their screens.
The further they walked, the quieter the air became.
The murmurs and clatter of the outer sections faded, replaced instead with a low, resonant hum—something deeper, alive, like the growl of an engine buried under the floor.
They reached another section of the headquarters, its entry guarded by two heavily armed soldiers who stepped aside the moment the woman approached.
She didn't need to speak; a single glance was enough.
*flap!
The flaps parted, and Rox followed her inside.
The chamber beyond was unlike the others.
It was darker, lit not by runic lanterns but by the eerie glow of pulsating bio-organic sacs embedded into the walls.
Each one throbbed faintly, casting strange shadows that moved across the ceiling.
The air here was heavier, damp with a scent of iron and musk.
And at the center of the room—
it waited.
The Vakaryan.
It towered over both women, a humanoid silhouette wrapped in layers of chitinous armor that looked grown rather than forged.
Rox's eyes observed it…
Its long arms, armoured and massive still.
The creature's head was ridged and angular, crowned with horn-like protrusions that curved backward like a predator's crown.
Beneath the ridges, its eyes glowed with a dull, amber light, unblinking, piercing.
Its torso flexed with every slow breath, the plates of its carapace shifting against each other with a sound like stone grinding over stone.
Behind it, a cluster of barbed tendrils shifted lazily, each movement carrying the promise of violence.
And the most prominent of them all,
Two swords, massive in size, attached at both sides of its hips.
Though it stood upright like a man, everything about its form screamed alien—
born for war,
built for slaughter.
Even through Rox's helmet, the pressure of its presence sank into her chest, like standing in front of an apex predator that was choosing—deciding—whether she was prey or tool.
Still, she had faced Vakaryans before…
Yet this one in particular,
Is abnormally large.
The Vakaryan tilted its head slowly, mandibles clicking together with a sharp
*tch! *tch! *tch!
Then, with a voice that was more growl than word, it rumbled,
"…Corvi."
The woman's voice cut clean through the tension.
"Yes. Rox Aggro." She stepped forward without hesitation, her cloak dragging faintly along the ground.
"She will serve with us now."
The Vakaryan's mandibles clicked subtly as it observed Rox with its piercing eyes.
It leaned closer, towering over Rox until its amber eyes locked with the reflection on her visor.
"…We'll see if you're useful, birdmeat."