Deicide the God Eater
The Thirteenth Chapter

Darknesswas just the gown the Abyss chose to wear. On the day she divided her lightless mass before me, I was stunned ather true form. Everywhere I turned shewas there gazing back at me, millions of eyes and fangs writhing around thelight swallowing void that was her mouth. The rest of her was a disgusting assemblage of fibrous muscle thatconsumed the horizon and all of the sky. – Deicide.

Upon awaking the Abyss dragged Deicide tohis feet as if he were a life-sized puppet, disoriented by the slight increasein his dimensions the first few steps he took were measured and cautious. He closed his hands, cracking the knuckles ofhis great brown fists. As he flexed hismuscles he felt he could hear the tightness of the muscle fibers contractingbeneath his skin. His tongue quiveredinside his mouth making him aware of the growth of several new teeth, like rowsof saw blades. The Abyss swirled aroundDeicide, admiring his completed physique, cooing and moaning as she made herinspection. In her eyes Deicide couldsee his reflection; his irises remained like brilliant diamonds, as did the battlescars he received in his youth, ancient mementos of misplaced trust.

Long ago, Nott had wanted Deicide to havehis scars removed, but Hellmouth and Great White, who had many wounds betweenthem, felt that their pup needed the reminders, and so along with informationof how to reassemble Deicide if he should pass, a string of code was set asideto reform him with a certain set of scar tissue. Many of the people that had taught Deicidehis most valuable lessons had also hurt him a great deal, though he supposed hehad done the same, perhaps greater. Hecould still remember Ecocide raking her claws across his face, her tearsstinging as they fell into his fresh wounds.

Stuffing the dark memories to the back ofhis mind, Deicide began to wonder about his location, the wet and rusted decaysurrounding him did not appear as old as before. Suddenly he was made aware of the presence ofhis Amanuensis routing eaters to his position, but he could hear booted feetattempting to slide silently across dusty and warped deck plates. The Abyss absorbed sounds that would seemnonexistent to the sharpest hearing and echoed them back to Deicide’s ears. Deicide spun slowly as a man in an old dusterswung a lead pipe toward him, before Deicide could fully face the man the Abysshad already disarmed him and began to peel open his carcass as if his skin was therind on some demonic fruit. The manscreamed as his ribs were snapped from his spine, a gush of foul gray airescaped as one of his tar filled lungs was torn open like a half full vacuumbag. A warm pool of blood and urine wasformed underneath the spectacle as the Abyss began to devour the corpse, noisilyand carelessly spattering the walls with blood.

Several others emerged from the shadows,brandishing antique automatic weapons and hatchets fabricated from scrap. Deicide shifted into the center of thedisplay as the guns began firing, a single umbilical swipe removed the lowerjaw of a man who was screaming before him, and as the man gargled the blood inhis throat Deicide ripped his tongue out, nearly by the root. Then he whirled and vaulted over the mangushing blood from the top of his neck. TheAbyss charged through the fray like a black tsunami, amputating limbs andabsorbing hot bullets into her oily folds. Deicide reached out with his sharp fingers and plucked a collar bonefrom a man only to twirl and jam it into the eye socket of another, the jaggedbone speared through the man’s brain and shattered against the inside of hisskull. The carnage on display remindedDeicide of the early campaigns he had led personally, when he lacked thenumbers to discourage drawn out wars, back then, the only way he could convincea nation not to fight was to reveal to them just how horrible he could be.

A sputtering battle cyborg peeled away fromthe shadows and with the sovereignty inside Deicide’s killbox, the cyborg fellupward and was impaled on a broken support beam high in the overhead. Then Deicide allowed him to fall back to theground as he pressed the cyborg into a crumpled sphere, when he was finishedwith him he looked like a wadded ball of aluminum foil. The hollers produced from the suffering bandexcited the wicked pair, making grins where there had recently beenscowls. As a few of the men attempted toretreat, their path was blocked by the Abyss, child-like giggles from an arrayof voices emerged from her darkness. TheAbyss coiled around their bodies after she had gouged them to tatters,squeezing their pulverized, red innards out of the ragged holes.

One man, done with witnessing the horror,placed a pistol in his own mouth only to have it torn away by Deicide; hesmashed the gun in his fist as if it were made of putty. He clamped onto the man’s arms and held himat arm’s length, watching him shiver under his menacing glare. The Abyss screeched an unintelligible noiseonly understandable to Deicide. Heremembered the horrifying future which lay before him, knowing that it was hisweakness that had caused it. With teeth,he quickly tore open the man’s throat, nearly decapitating him, his head hungto the stump of his neck by a few red ribbons. The Abyss watched like a proud mother as Deicide chewed the fleshwithout reservation or shame. Tendrilssurged from her black mass onto the carcass and gently pulled it away fromDeicide who had seemingly slipped into a maddening trance. Even with the halcyonic ciderDeicide still felt the cannibalistic urges, leaving him wondering what wasawaiting him on this tenebrous path. Herefused to allow someone to steal his empire because of his own complacency,according to Nott’s words, saving the Aeolipile meant allowing himself tolisten to the voice he ignored the most, his own.

His eyes detected movement and he felt theAbyss winding up the alien anatomy inside her lurid bulk. When Deicide heard the voices of his RiskEaters he relaxed and the Abyss began to soften. As much as the Abyss seemed like anindividual entity she was actually just a part of Deicide, linked within thehollows of his subconscious the Abyss acted as an external nervous and immunesystem, but the medical staff continued to propose that she was a cancer thatacted in Deicide’s best interest. Shewrapped herself around his neck and slid down his shoulders and back, pouringherself to the floor, once more becoming a cloak. Deicide was agitated at the way sheprominently displayed her mass, all except his head was completely draped inher organic cloth. Attempts to push herbehind him were met with a choir of feminine giggles, the fabric turned to oilas he heaved her up over his shoulders and she flopped back down on top ofhim. The older he became the more itseemed that he was chained to the whims of this tangible Id, no longer was shethe whispering umbra of his childhood.

“Lord Deicide,” an eater said. A group of Risk Eaters peered carefully atthe blood stains on the deck and mumbled amongst each other. Ichor stepped out in front, just as medics onDeicide’s personal staff rushed to the noble’s side. Immediately they began tapping the bleed pitsin his umbilicals, drawing samples of chemicals that had already circulatedinto his blood stream. He was annoyedthat the Abyss stood aside so easily when Nott’s colleagues muscled their waythrough. Deicide shooed them away oncethey had collected what was required for their ongoing research, his personalEMT’s showed him much more concern and tact, while the extremist Sicariiswatched in silence.

“Shay’s been borderline psychotic, everyonewas on call. No off days,” Ichorsaid. Deicide had never seen the manlook so tired. In fact they all looked frazzled;most of them probably were not used to combing through the Fringes, which wasonly comparable to wandering in a vast desert, no circulated air, or any otherconvenient facilities such as running water, or water period depending on thelength of time it was separated.

“She didn’t think I could handle myself?” Deicidesaid.

“You’ve been gone nearly a year,” Ichorsaid. Deicide rubbed the back of hisneck as he stared at the ground.

“Why didn’t they just rebuild me?” Deicidesaid.

Ichor shifted on his toes. “Lady Nott left orders to block theprocedures,” he said.

Deicide shook his head. “Left orders?” Deicide said, his antennaswere already blinking rapidly. Ichorplaced his hands on Deicide’s shoulders.

“What happened?” Deicide said.

Ichor shrugged. “She went into the Machine,” he said. “She told her staff to consider herterminated.”

Deicide pulled away abruptly. “And no one went to go get her?” Deicide said.

“No one has access, not even you,” Ichorsaid.

“Then cut the damn door down!” Deicidesaid.

But Deicide already knew the answer tothat. No one entered the Machine itself;it was the single place on the ship that Deicide had never been able toexplore, though it was supposedly connected to every major space within theship, and every District power plant. Everyone had been told that the engineering plant of the Aeolipile was maintenance-less,but Deicide just knew that Nott had a special group of Somnus Engineers thatcontrolled its functions, or had bred some deaf-mutes to deal with the physicalrepairs, how could a plant not need a crew, but what of the early days? As far as Deicide could remember there hadonly been rations for the two of them.

“She’s gone, Ant,” Ichor said. Deicide began shaking his head slowly; theAbyss gazed at him from behind his right shoulder with a pair of cheerlesseyes. Deicide plopped down into theAbyss, head in hands. Tears dripped downonto her oily hulk, only to be reabsorbed and sent back into the umbilicalsystem where the pure water would be extracted. Deicide summoned a cloud of anxiety as he began to tighten his fists andstrain his muscles, the sound became frighteningly audible.

Two eaters grabbed Deicide under an armpit. “C’mon sir,” one said, but Deicidedid not move. His new body was extremelyheavy, even for two eaters and they looked to Ichor for help. The hard-faced Weaver had his arms folded infront of Deicide, glaring down at the man, indifferent to his brooding.

In a calm voice he spoke down towardhim. “C’mon, Ant let’s go,” Ichor said;tightening his lips as the suggestion was ignored. Then he berated the man.

“Ant, get the fuck up!” Ichor said. Everyone paused and tried to pretend they were inanimate objects. Deicide stirred and rose without the help ofhis subordinates, while Ichor grabbed the scruff of Deicide’s neck as if hewere a pup. He pressed his foreheadagainst the top of Deicide’s head and began to whisper.

“Stop, alright? Clean your fucking face. These knuckleheads need you strong, or elseall this shit is gonna fall apart. Okay?” Ichor said.

“Ich, she-” Deicide said.

“Shut up! There’ll be time for that. Rightnow people need to die, and those that live need to be afraid that they’renext. Understand?” Ichor said, watchinghis favorite pupil nod, knowing hate was spinning inside Deicide’s head.

Back inside the Aeolipile Deicide waswaiting for his children to be brought to him. His estate inside the O-Country had been remodeled since hisdisappearance some months back, perhaps a project to keep the housekeeping busywhile he was away. He was fully reclinedin his study watching flames from his simulated fireplace, when a door slidopened behind him. Five children walkedin on their own while another two were carried by Nott’s aides. Deicide looked at their eyes, some purple,brown or some lighter shade, skin the color of khaki. They each had a short umbilical plugextending from their lower backs, though nothing was running through them,certainly not vestige material.

“They’ll be bigger than their Dad in a fewyears. They aren’t showing an aversionto the treatments.” A woman said. The children sat down on the floor in frontof him. He felt sorry for the lovelies,as they would have very little time to actually be children before they werecommanding their own armies. It was arelief to him though; that they would not grow up exactly how he did; hoppingfrom planet to planet scheming for money and influence to fuel his warmachine. His offspring would be taskedwith the upkeep of his legacy, ensuring his ivory tower never crumbled.

“There’s the oldest two, Silex and Caissa.Then there’s the little monsters, Eldora and Asotus. Capella and Gue’guerre my cuties. And this sad little guy is Amicus,” she said,the tiny boy in her arms was the only one that had Nott’s gray complexion andyolky eyes, but on his face was the morose stare of his father now looking backat him. He wondered, did Nott really doit, did she manage to birth them a child from both their genetic material? Either way he would cherish the boy, if onlybecause he reminded him of Nott.

The eldest children, Silex and Caissa weresurprisingly well spoken; he discovered that they had already read through theShip’s archives several times. All ofthem were being trained by many of the same grizzled instructors that hadtaught him during his youth. Hellmouthand Great White popped in as if Deicide had willed them into the room, theyimmediately came over to the children and encouraged them to show their fatherwhat they had learned. Deicide wasexcited to see that all but the youngest two could spread a small killboxaround themselves, even if they were only able to slightly manipulate gravity.

Deicide laughed as the crimson headedEldora already well-muscled, was busy wrestling his free arm, unable to pin itdown. He smiled as she grunted andstrained against him. All of thechildren already seemed set in their own personalities and he spent the rest ofthe night guessing amongst the other adults which bad habits they had picked upfrom him. At first his cubs had lessenedthe pain of the blade driven through his heart by Nott’s departure, but as hewoke to their faces every morning he realized it would never be taken out.

He continued to plan his response againstthe Districts which had struck down his men and women, members of his entouragewhom he considered his blood even if a few were not, people who watched overhis children; people he shared meals with. The message would be elaborate and exceedingly violent, but he knew nothow, bombs, and even full scale raids would not exhibit the magnitude of hisrage. He sat on the floor of the greatstone coliseum that Great White used to exercise the children; it was locatedon the lower decks of the Aeolipile, a recreation of the crumbled AbstrusianEmpire. Deicide looked on the place notas a symbol of power, but a crude memento of his childhood. Hard lessons were learned here, much of theold blood stains here were his own, put there by his mentors Hellmouth, Whiteand Ichor. He held his youngest boyAmicus in his lap as they watched his older children spar with legends of fightcraft.

Because of their privileged birth theywould be taught the advanced techniques of a martial art that was prohibited tothe general population of eaters. Dreadfully translated to ThePathless Journey, these secrets kept the inflexible power structure oftheir military-oriented society intact. Money could only purchase so much power for a civilian and a soldiercould never buy. Status was wealth andit could only be garnered by specific and exemplary services rendered, doledout by someone who sat aloft in this infallible structure. It was a system so rigid that it barelyappeared to change when looking through the long range records; families wereshuffled in and out to give the elite some genetic variety, but the hands holdingthe reigns never changed, even in the military.

“Eldora, if you’re going to use that punch,you have to use your entire body, from the furthest knuckle to the very tip ofthe toe. See?” White said, demonstratingthe attack. The children were gatheredaround in a loose circle as White instructed the children individually. Hellmouth was making her way toward thegroup, causing Asotus to squirm, already knowing the fate which lay ahead.

“Uh huh, thought you were gonna miss out onPT?” Hellmouth said, gold teethglistening in the simulated twilight. The children groaned and marched toward her with their eyes to theground, dragging their feet against the stone floor. Deicide winced as he remembered his own PTsessions with the woman; he could guarantee there would be some vomiting andteary eyes tonight. As he bobbled Amicusaround in his arms he was approached by the Twins, Destra and Sinistra. He wondered if Nott had warned them abouttheir possible futures as lumbering freaks. He gave them a small grin and decided to keep quiet.

He had kept his adventure a secret fromeveryone, even the closest of his staff, explaining away his disappearance as amalfunction with the eccentricities of the folded space within the ship, evenif they were privy, they would dismiss his sightings as delusions caused by histransgressing into his final phase. Thegenetic amuck had torn him apart and reassembled him into something familiarthat looked back at him in the mirror, but he felt very different. The desire to complete his mission wasswelling deep within his mind, causing the Abyss to increase her size androughen her texture. Amicus turned andpoked at the alien creature with a tiny finger. The Abyss swirled around him and giggled, pulling at his gray cheekswith her inky tendrils. Deicide spoke tothe Twins without turning away from the suffering of his children that he foundso amusing.

“How are they?” Deicide said.

“Nott would be satisfied,” Destra said.

“That’s a bold claim,” Deicide said,remembering his wife’s pride in her craftsmanship.

“Which precinct has the raid?” Sinistrasaid.

“None of them,” Deicide said.

“We have to strike back; it’s been far toolong already,” Destra said.

“Ichor briefed me. I’ll have a small entourage,” Deicide said.

“We understand you wanting to participate,but that’s foolish, Ant,” Sinistra said.

“Do Hellmouth and White know?” Destra said.

Deicide turned around to face them. “Who’s the Captain of this ship?” Deicide said, alerting the instructorsnearby. The Twins were silent, staringback at him with hard eyes, their demeanor had changed and they began to speakharshly.

“You still retain the mind of a child,don’t you Prince?” Destra said. Deicide’s eyes turned to white slivers. The gall, Deicide thought, but attacking themwith harsh words would only prove their point.

“Now that your oedipal queen has rescindedyou feel the need to assert yourself,” Sinistra said.

Destra looked to her sister. “It’s understandable,” Destra said.

Sinistra nodded to Destra. “Yes, perfectly understandable,” Sinistrasaid.

“But you have your place,” Destra said.

“As our lovable Prince,” Sinistra said.

“I’m not a figurehead,” Deicide said,letting Amicus run to his nanny. Hestood and tried to keep the Abyss from winding herself up, an act that everycreature understood, even if not from her world. In the half world that bore her, there was noword for violence; one may as well tell another person that one is living.

“For the ship, you are,” Destra said.

“Abstrusian custom,” Sinistra said. Deicide turned away at that, having norecords on how his culture was originally ran. He had never seen the Twins act in such a way; it saddened him and hewondered if there was a coup forming in his executive branch. But then he remembered how the men weretreated, with so few numbers of them, and all hopes of reproducing naturallydashed away, men were simply sexless helpers of his home world. It was only the other male clones of Antino Ithat were revered, and many of them died only a few years after birth. Yes, it had been only him, finally christenedAntino II, prince of Abstruse, a useless title as Abstrusians had eradicatedthe nobility millennia ago.

Hours laterDeicide was ready to unleash havoc upon the District of Privy; rebels fromthere had aided the resistance in the Altura attack. The Abyss had wound her dark innards astightly as she could compact them. Atthe moment he was ignoring emergency transmissions routed through hisAmanuensis. He was waiting for the smallentourage he had ordered to arrive. Hehad been notified earlier that they had captured a high ranking leader in oneof the resistance groups. Deicide wantedthe chance to punish the man himself, but the pair of Weavers, Two Spine andSolemn, had insisted that he simply speak to the man first. As Deicide heaved a sigh and turned in theother direction he saw a group of Risk Eaters headed toward him.

“Well, howis it?” Deicide said, opening his armsto Rodela, but she never entered his grasp.

“It’salright, I guess,” Rodela said. Deicidewas hurt by her coldness, and knew everyone else had noticed. Hash spoke up to ease the awkwardness.

“You sureyou want to do this, sir? We could justbring him to you,” Hash said.

“No. Let’s move,” Deicide said, as they turnedtoward a smaller set of apartheid gates for personal on foot. This would enable them to warp directly toany Risk Eater station. As they madetheir way through each gate Deicide moved closer and closer to Rodela.

“What’swrong?” Deicide said; the Abyss aped his empathy.

“Nothing,” Rodelasaid, folding her arms.

“I know it’snot exactly what you expected it to be,” Deicide said.

Deicideshifted even closer to the woman and sighed, wrapping his arms around her. Everyone else tried to ignore the pair, butthere were sure to be rumors after this showing. Deicide kissed the top of her head and rubbedher shoulders.

“Can we talklater?” she said.

“Sure,” Deicidesaid. Then they all strolled into thereceiving area of the Risk Eater precinct. He stopped short of entering when he saw the state of the place. TRS cans were spilling their contents allover the checkered tile floor, their mechanisms clogged, hindering it fromcompleting their work. Deicide had noguess as to when the filters for the ventilation covers had been cleaned; itwas as if the entire building had been abandoned for years. He expected a leather skinned squatter toemerge from behind a desk at any moment and ask them for spare change.

“Damn,couldn’t someone have thrown some of this in some filing cabinets?” Deicide said.

“It wasprobably last shift, sir.” Hash said,scratching his scruffy chin. His collarwas unbuttoned and his uniform wrinkled. Deicide sighed and thought how useless some of his soldiers actuallywere outside of a battle situation or a bar fight.

“Oh please,Hash. Retirements a little far off to bethinking like a short-timer,” Deicide said, shaking his head.

“This isdeplorable. Little will help you if Shay replaces you all working in this sty,” Deicidesaid. He was shown into theinterrogation rooms below and found two young Risk Eaters guarding a door atthe end of a long and dark hallway. TwoWeavers emerged when he knocked on the door. It was Two Spine and Solemn, the shrewd pair that had dived into thesecrets of this District after Deicide and his entourage had beenattacked. Deicide placed a hand on eachof their shoulders, his normally dejected pout, stretched into the grin of awolf god.

“So?” Deicidesaid.

“He refusesto speak to anyone else,” Solemn said.

Two Spinepointed a thumb at the door. “Some gameymeat in there. Even Sol, couldn’t makehim talk,” Two Spine said.

“He doesn’t haveany cybernetic parts, but still, watch yourself, sir.” Solemn said. Deicide nodded to them both and then strode into the room. A single light hung from the overhead,illuminating the cramped gray room. There was an aluminum desk welded to the floor and a prisoner wasshackled to his seat on the other side of it. He wore the pea green coveralls of an inmate and his regal looking facehad been brutality beaten. Had Solemnbeen given enough time she could have cracked the man before she had reachedthe end of her protocol sheet, but Deicide had demanded to see the prisoner. Deicide plopped down in one of the empty chairs,leaning back with his hands in his lap, smug grin pulling at the corners of hismouth. His chair squeaked as he pulledit closer to the table and folded his hands underneath his chin.

“Well, speakman,” Deicide said.

“Only ifyou’re ready to listen,” he said.

“What the…doyou know who I am?” Deicide said,thumbing to himself. The Abyss spreadherself throughout the room, so that she could listen for inflection andinconsistency.

“A man whohas been entrusted with countless lives,” he said.

“That’s newfor a rebel. I see you wear the garnetrag. You’re a part of the Apocrypha?” Deicide said.

“I am,” he said.

“You all have risen to the top of mylist. Starting today soldiers areordered to kill all Apocrypha on sight, preferably in public,” Deicide said.

“Yet I still breathe your air,” he said.

“We want to extract as much from you aspossible,” Deicide said.

“That is only partly true,” He said.

“What?” Deicide said.

The bedraggled man chuckled. “We?” he said. “I live only because there is something YOUwish to know.”

Deicide crinkled his brow and smiled whileleaning back the in chair, but the eyes of the rebel leader never left hisown. As the two stared at each otherfrom across the table, Deicide noticed just how disheveled the man actually was. His beard was dirty and patchy; there werefresh bruises on the corners of his face and blood in one of his eyes; yet hestill retained an air of a gentleman, even a lord. A moment later the smile on Deicide’s face hadvanished. He brushed his fingers acrossthe aluminum table and lowered his chin as if to protect his throat.

“Our shepherd shall guide us out from underthis veil of ignorance. No longer shallour fates be determined by superstition and invisible gods. It is you who shall lead the way, God Eater,”the man said.

“What is this nonsense?” Deicide said.

“We will be led unto a new Existence, byway of our Lord. A man of flesh andblood, forged into the image of a true God, by his own yearning and desire. You were the son of a man such as this, buthe lost his way, as men tend to do. Asyou have yourself. But in the new worldyou will create on the other side, you will be the Divine. And finally we can be ruled by rationalthought and science,” he said. Deiciderose and glared at the bound man.

“I am no god. I have no such plans,” Deicide said.

“You must complete the circuit beforeopening the way to paradise,” he said. “The end will come, through you or through another. Short or long, death is making his way downthe path.”

“What if I refuse it, if the circuit isleft incomplete?” Deicide said.

“But you must. To refuse would mean throwing your belovedship into ruin and all the lives that have made this possible would descendinto a world of strife. Hell; brought tolife by your doing. I’m sure you’ve seenit,” he said.

“How? How can you know this?” Deicidesaid; his scowl had been transformed into lament and gloom. Sweat began to bleed out of his skin, and hislong antennas drooped down on his head.

“Just know that I do. The Apocrypha looked to you, because you arethe only man who could truly alter his fate. It is only you who can decide for certain where this road shallend. We, your people, are hopelesslyshackled to your decision,” he said.

“Listen. I am no shepherd. I am a man ofblood and steel, a war child; those who refused to kneel before me perished inthe fires of my rage. Would you leave thewolf to tend to the sheep?” Deicide said.

“If the wolf has eaten the shepherd, whatchoice do the sheep have? Redemption awaitsyour acceptance. True, by your hand werethose who rose against you slaughtered, but, you spared the children, the weak,and the feeble. Why?” he said. Truthfully, Deicide did not know why hespared the humans of so many worlds when he had simply annihilated others on awhim countless times. Perhaps thefeatures they shared allowed him to view them as more than thinking animals ashe did so many other races. When helooked at humans, especially their children, he saw his own pups, the samecurve of their cheeks covered in soft nearly invisible hair. Yes, it had been more about their appearancethan genetics with him.

“If you are my allies, then why do you warwith me?” Deicide said.

“Because we must make you see how much wewant to live. Do not allow us to perishin the clashing of gods. In time, ourdescendants will come to understand your choice. Trust me, the internal wars will be savage,but we will survive, save us, and may you never lament your decision,” he said,before finally relaxing in his seat. Forsome time Deicide was unable to speak. Thousands of years it took to become this lurid figure known as Deicide,with his army, even just his own strength and the Abyss, there existed littlehe could not take by force. Yet, ashappened many times in his life, he realized that it was only a single decisionhe made that was monumental. Somewherewithin this ship, or perhaps on the other side of the great divide, there weremore complex schemes at work. Even as herose from his seat he could not help but think that he was just another machinein the array that propelled the Aeolipile forward.

“Speak of this to no one,” Deicidesaid. The man nodded and Deicide fledfrom the room. His posture was rigidwhen he came through the door. Two Spinetried to straighten his collar before Deicide swatted him away. Everyone else on watch was gathered aroundhim, their eyes seemed to be begging for information. The Abyss murmured and cooed, musing only toDeicide her thoughts on the situation. Even she, a ravenous, princess warrior held back on devouring the man.

“The man is a fool,” Deicide said asplainly as he could manage. “He has noinformation to give, but I want him under surveillance, in case a rescueattempt is made.” Deicide tried to maskhis apprehensions by flagrantly exhibiting a cheerful manner, but the Abyss divulgedthe man’s inner turmoil with her incessant whispering. He clapped his hands together and demandedfor the entire station not on duty to take the day off. He also urged his entourage to join him forlunch. Though the meal was exquisite,Deicide had to fight down every bite.