Changeling

(106): Instincts

It took almost half a second for the shock to wear off, and Nestra to understand the implications. And then it was rage all the way down.

“You f-”

And then just as it happened, her anger was pulled back by a conflicting set of instincts warring in her mind. Terror smacked her. It was him. And he was S-class. Sereth could shatter mountains and make the sky rumble. He was a pagan god. Agathon was a full rank above that as well as impossibly ancient, and that was how her more human mind chose to interpret the visceral horror at having him so close. It wasn’t even mana. It was pure Aszhii instincts. Her swear died in her throat, and yet, before she could wail in fear, another conflicting part rose to the fore.

He will not kill me.

Again, she could rationalize it at the conscious level because he had no reason to kill her. He wanted to use her. She was no danger to him. Killing her would get the covens on his ass and as powerful as he was, she didn’t think he could take on Tigress lightly. Those were all surface thoughts to the blank wall of certainty drowning the worst of the terror: Agathon was Aszhii, therefore he would not kill her.

The surge of conflicting emotions smothered her brain. In the meantime, Agathon lightly stepped forward and out of the Spire disguise, instead replaced by a human.

If he’d taken her human dad’s shape, Nestra believed she would have tried to kill him anyway but Agathon instead chose the image of a white man with deep dark hair graying at the temple, a square jaw, piercing gleam blue eyes, and a face that models would kill for. A controlled A-class aura pulsed gently from him while he sat in a very human leather chair that hadn’t been there an instant before, smoothing his perfectly tailored if vintage dark suit. Mira was set against the wall with a yelp while her brother’s corpse disappeared. Suddenly, Nestra was on the set of some twenty years old finance drama vid starring an impossibly attractive first gen CEO. His avuncular smile complemented the relaxed posture to give that mentor meeting vibe, incongruous in the heavenly capital but somehow he pulled it off. Nestra wanted to throw up.

“I would offer a seat were I not so certain it would be refused. There is a privacy bubble around us. Feel free to speak up.”

“You rabid cunt.”Ah shit. The invitation had been too much and now Nestra recoiled, but Agathon didn’t react.“Is that all?”

“I... You...”

Nestra breathed in and out. Thoughts jumbled in her mind and no amount of B-class brainpower could help her.

“You have questions, of course, so I believe I can save us some time by answering the most obvious.”

He was perfectly conversational which somehow made it even fucking worse.

“This is — how do humans put it? Ah yes. This is my turf. I knew you were here when the real Spire first found you and wrote a report, which one of ours intercepted. I understood your goal quickly. Although simple in approach, it was workable and likely to succeed, therefore I replaced him after your first meeting. The reason why I didn’t stop you was that I simply wanted you to have a pleasant time here. The capital is one of the beating hearts of civilization, culture, and art in the many worlds. It is also my birthplace. I decided to honor your cunning and commitment by allowing you to complete your plot and, imagine that, you did it! With minimal assistance. I merely made sure to keep Sorai’s child safe during ‘baby’s first scheme’. Granting you temporary access to the palace’s outer layer added to the charm of the visit, did it not?”

He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. Nestra wanted to pluck them out, yet even as tame as he appeared, fright still haunted the back of her mind. She still struggled to process how weird this all was. Agathon, sitting here having a conversation.

“I... but... why?”

He leaned back in the seat, casually bringing a cup of something hot to his lips. The smell of coffee wafted to Nestra, possibly the first time the capital smelled of it.

“Because I wanted to spend time with my precious young daughter, of course.”

“You fucking abandoned me you ASSHOLE!”

The insult slid over him like a shadow on the surface of a kaiju.

“Let it all out,” he allowed in a fatherly tone.

The floodgates opened.

“You raped my mom; you abandoned me, and now you have the balls to call me daughter? Fuck you. You never earned that right, you sorry sack of shit. You are nothing like a father. You’re barely even a fucking genitor you loser scum. You’re lucky I’m so weak or I’d plant my sword up your ass and wave you around like a meat sock you disgusting, vile, shitty... URGH!”

Something stopped Nestra’s next step forward. At some point during the tirade, she’d shed her mask. She now towered over Agathon while Mira weeped against the wall. Once again, a blank wall of conflicting instincts pulled her back.

She would never reach him. He would not allow it.

“And that is why I didn’t tell you. Right now, your ethics system is molded after the surprisingly potent human framework. Your sympathy goes to your mother who didn’t cast you out, from what Serethion told me, and so your mind is still steeped in it. It makes you forget an obvious, immutable fact:

“You are Aszhii.

“I deceived your mother because it would give you, my child, the very best chances of survival: a kind, talented parent of an assuming yet powerful alliance, one with the least chance of early assassination.”

“YOU!”

“It was an act of care for an Aszhii, something you are not willing to believe right now, yet is still true. As for the starvation, other Aszhii survive similarly difficult circumstances, as you did, successfully as befit one of my more gifted heirs. You still think of reproduction like a human. You see child-rearing the human way. Those are beliefs you hold very strongly, because you have left this aberrantly welcoming society merely a few months ago. You are still drenched in host kin beliefs like a newborn in water of her mother’s womb, ignoring the obvious, the unchangeable truth.

“You are Aszhii.

“Right now, you are understandably furious as most humans would be, so in order for us to have a bonding moment, and for me to judge the fruits of my efforts, I deceived you. That rage of yours will hound you for years to come and I will tell you freely that I. Do. Not. Care. In eighty years, it will have faded along with your backwater mindset, then you will bargain with me and serve my purposes just as my might will serve yours, Aszhii to Aszhii, and player to player. Do you know where my confidence stems from?”

He leaned forward again, no longer the mentor but a predator in human guise.

“While Sereth is powerful, he is hopelessly kind-hearted and naive for someone his age. You are different. At heart, what matters the most to you in the end is the result. You are a pragmatist, and you will do what must be done in order to accomplish your goal no matter how painful and humiliating it might be. And so you will come to me.”

Now he was back to sipping his espresso.

“I need you for a special mission, your portal skills to be precise. And I will have this one time service one way or another, even if it means keeping dear Serethion a little longer.”

Nestra didn’t trust herself with an answer. He had won this round from the moment she had made contact with the wardens. She’d taken a gamble, and lost. It was bullshit.

“What happened to the real Spire?” she asked, more to break the silence than because she was really that furious.

Agathon lifted an imperious brow.

“I had him temporarily transferred. Contrary to what you may think, I try not to kill agents when I don’t have to. Blood clogs the wheels of a smooth operation. Besides, are you sure you truly care?”

He smiled.

“Since I replaced him after your first meeting, every pleasant moment you spent together was with me. Honestly, you should have noticed something was terribly wrong. What secret police would allow a mercenary to masquerade as one of them, wearing their uniform? What officer would educate one who is not of his blood, and does not intend to recruit besides? Ludicrous. I even covered your savage core consumption in the most ham-fisted manner.”

He tutted.

“Terrible loss of self-control that, but what else can I expect from someone who awakened just over a human year before? I will remind you again that this is a taboo practice that should only be performed in the absence of witnesses. It would have been better to deface the corpse and pretend half of Guts’ chest floated off in the canals.”

Shame’s acid fingers pushed through Nestra’s chest. At least it distracted her from the cold rage.

“No, you were served a perfect meal on a suspiciously golden plate and, like the child you are, you elected not to question it.”

One of Mira’s panicked whines garnered Agathon’s bored attention. A single look was all it took to force the girl into a peaceful sleep. Tension finally left her thin frame.

Agathon noticed Nestra’s gaze.

“Why her? Another lesson for you: always learn everything you can about your partners even when you follow a better schemer’s plans. You cannot trust anyone you did not personally vet. If you had spied on them a little more, you would have realized that little Mira here was the genius and true forger of the pair, with Fennek acting as a, hmm, what was the term? The lightning rod, yes. She was far too malleable, so her brother did his best to protect her even though many of those attempts proved terribly misguided. I believe I will be a much more adept benefactor.”

He smiled like a happy cat.

Nestra thought that he should shove his advice up his ass. She also thought he was beyond her. Completely so. She’s never stood in front of an enemy and believed with such absolute certainty that he was beyond her reach.

Well, he was, but his plan wasn’t.

“You’re doing all of this because you want me to... do something for you?”

“Correct.”

Agathon finished his cup. It disappeared in his pocket dimension soon after.

“I do not expect you to join my retinue. Your feelings will not allow it. The covens will not allow it. Nevertheless, there is something I wish done that requires the participation of a female as I mentioned before. I consider you the best candidate for it, and by that I mean that you are adequate and very cheap because I have something you desperately want: the return of Serethion before your unawakened friend withers and dies.”

Anger surged again.

“It’s not over,” Nestra said with more anger than conviction.

“Oh no, of course not. I expect you to return to Makihel who will now remember you threatened bodily harm if you didn’t get what you wanted. I expect the negotiations not to go too well because there are no other heirlooms she can gather. She will certainly fear you now. After a while, you will likely realize that my offer would be worth hearing. Then we negotiate. Then we both get what we want, the heavenly way.”

He stood up.

“If you have more questions, they will have to wait until next time.”

Nestra was too stunned to think of more anyway. Agathon made his furniture disappear before grabbing Mira’s prone form like the girl was a potato bag. The handsome human mask turned one last time.

“I do not hate you, nor despise you, daughter. I state this because it is important to me that you know and understand. You are merely young, and we are not playing the same game yet. It is my wish that one day, we can address each other as equals, but I also need you to understand it will not happen within this era. See you later, Nezhra. Do not take too long.”

And then he was gone.

The privacy bubble popped. The room returned to normal. In the bed above, Grook grumbled.

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Nestra sat on her ass.

“Fuck.”

***

Nestra was made to wait for Makihel’s return, but she was made to wait inside of her private quarters, so at least there was that. The redeemed princess spent the entire next day outside only returning before dinner. She also left the main door open. Nestra could see two Imperial Guards waiting near the threshold, their presence inconspicuous yet very meaningful.

She was guarded when she first spoke.

“Fennek is missing. I found his blood on the ground, no Mira, and no traces of your companion or your belongings. Would you care to explain what happened?”

“I was outmaneuvered by a ... relative. He took the forgers and the ring, as well as the backup stuff.”

“Ah.”

Makihel mulled the revelation in silence.

“Ah... Indeed? I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

“I know.”

“Unfortunately, those were the only items that could not easily be replicated. With those gone, your only solution remains the forest one...”

Makihel gave Nestra a knowing look. Her hand hovered close to a dagger by her side, not that it would matter either way. Assaulting a princess in the palace was straight up suicide. Instead of replying, Nestra leaned forward.

“I would have thought that we would be past that, however I understand that you come from a cutthroat culture, and so I will not take offense.”

Makihel was unamused by Nestras’s jab at the general imperial backstabbery. At this stage, Nestra didn’t care. She needed something.

“Look. Makihel.”

She lowered her tone.

“Do you really want to see him again? No artifice. No game. Just answer: yes or no.”

And by Riel, Nestra hoped it was a yes.

It took some time for Makihel to react. The possibility of a lie hung between them like a blade, possibly sealing the end of the deal.

“Yes,” Makihel whispered, a sound that was barely audible even with enhanced hearing. “Yes, dammit. He was my brother, is my brother. I cast him away. Yes, I want to see him again.”

“Then there is something you can do to help me. The one who beat me is old, but he has a weakness.”

“Oh?” Makihel asked, curious.

“He is heavenly to the nails. I don’t mean that as an insult, I mean that he doesn’t see any other type of manipulation as worth his time. I have a way to play on that. It will require some intimacy though, and I need a few minutes to set up. And your heartfelt participation.”

Makihel frowned.

“I swear on my family’s honor that I will not harm you. I just... I really need your help.”

Makihel’s expression softened a little.

“Please?”

“My apologies, I must remember that you are not yet the ruthless manipulator so many of my brethrens have grown into. In fact, I had... something I wanted to give you as payment for your services on top of the item that is now lost. Here.”

Makihel picked a box from one of a nearby table. The faint scent of water mana could be felt from inside its elaborately decorated lid. Nestra opened it.

“Wow. Is that...”

“A monster core of the fourth ascension. It was awarded to me by Naila’s mother among other favors so I wouldn’t push for the death penalty. As is my right.”

Nestra made the gift disappear. It smelled tantalizing, even though she didn’t feel she’d truly earned it. She would consider it as payment for services rendered, which was fine too.

“So you will let Naila live? Is it not dangerous to let foes out like that?”

Makihel shook her head.

“My dear old friend will still be exiled, probably spend some time in a salt mine building reinforcing pillars.”

A vicious smile bloomed on Makihel’s satisfied expression. She was the embodiment of Shadenfreude right now, still riding the high of victory. Nestra only wished she could do the same.

“But she will return eventually, and we may even collaborate a hundred years from now. You are still young, Nezhra. One day, you will understand that a known rival is almost as valuable as an old friend. Sometimes they’re one and the same.”

“I’m getting a little tired of people telling me I’ll get it when I grow old.”

“I apologize,” Makihel said. “I should have realized that the timing was poorly chosen. Regardless, there is a high cost to pushing for the death of a well-connected opportunist, especially when exile is the preferred punishment method for overzealous social climbers, a method I benefited from myself. I will not forget that she had me starve, mind you, yet her mother’s gifts go a long way towards soothing my pain.”

Done with her explanations, Makihel paused. Nestra used the opportunity to speak.

“Thank you for the core, really. I’ll put it to good use. Oh, and there is one category of item my relative forgot about that I believe we can still make use of.”

“And what would that be?” Makihel asked, clearly not believing Nestra.

So she told her.

“Absolutely not. I shall die of embarrassment.”

“All those who would see it would be our kind.”

“And you believe it would make it better?”

“Well,” Nestra argued. “It would... speak to them. I believe.”

Makihel huffed and puffed, but in the end, she relented.

***

It took some effort to convince poor Grook that there was nothing she could have done to stop Agathon. For some reason, the valiant girl felt supremely guilty that the ‘cave’ was entered while she was asleep: an embarrassment that reflected poorly on her as a hunter and independent woman. Nestra was pretty sure it was a stone troll thing. Nevertheless, it took little effort to remind her that Agathon was S-class and he could basically enter the Emperor’s cave if he so desired. Then Grook asked if this was a sexual innuendo, so Nestra had to insist that no, she tried to avoid those as some people mistook it as flirting. Nestra also assured her that the expedition was far from a total wash, so there was still hope. One thing was for sure: Grook was extremely relieved when they left the city. So relieved, in fact, that Nestra brought her to a raid before they returned.

It was getting easier to move around the many worlds. Each one had a ‘taste’ of sorts, and some tended to be closer to others to form clusters so if she found the red desert world, she knew one of the heavenly colonies was close by therefore she could travel to the capital in four transfers. The Aszhii world was impossible to miss because it was always at the ‘bottom’, which made little sense on a geographical level, but her brain couldn’t come up with a better comparison.

Sorai was delighted to see Grook return. She was less delighted when Grook returned to her den to sleep and vegetate for three ‘days’ straight, but Nestra understood. Grook had been outside of her comfort zone for a very long time. She needed the break.

That left Nestra to prepare her plan with the coven. They all gathered without delay in the main room, sipping warm liquids with various levels of neurotoxicity. The fruiting season of the growth was ending soon, so Nestra needed to hurry. She quickly exposed what she wanted to do to the group with a special focus on Karamhel, whose understanding of heavenly culture surpassed anybody else’s. The retired general thought about it for a long time before flipping her ears.

“I need to see it. I need to experience what you intend to say so I can judge your performance against what you hope to accomplish.”

“Yes! Yes,” Sorai exclaimed. “A demonstration!”

It turned out to be a good idea that helped Nestra grow in confidence, as well helping everything getting set up faster. When she was done, Karamahel, again, took a long time to answer.

“It has been so long. So long...” she said, wistfully. “I had almost forgotten. You will not sway the older ones, I think, but you won’t need to. I believe your strategy is bold enough to function. And you will have our support, of course.”

Sorai banged the table with her fist.

“Agathon is taking too many liberties with the little one. Games are allowed, but he cheated!”

Blinky flashed her disapproval. Agathon hadn’t done anything the other covens would frown upon just yet, though she admitted they would approve of Nestra’s loyalty. From afar.

“I will support her,” a voice said from the side. “I alone. You will provide support in case the ancient schemer offers challenge.”

All eyes and sensory organs turned to Moon Dancer. It was more words stringed together than she’d uttered since Nestra’s arrival.

“I am finally ready,” she concluded. “I shall greet him.”

***

Agathon’s cathedral looked deserted from afar, though Nestra knew better. There were no sentries because everyone was attending the Harvest, a mimic of an important heavenly tradition. With the growth’s fruiting nearing its end, and many snacks collected for future use, Aszhii would soon return to their wandering ways. Agathon held court now as he distributed favors and tasks among his many children. That left the base undefended in the same way a precinct was ‘defenseless’ if most of the cops were in a meeting. Nevertheless, it gave Nestra the opening she needed, if barely. She landed on the roof, then followed the same path that had led her inside. As before, some of the expansive maze of corridors showed signs of habitation, though they were currently empty. Her silent drift led her through the carved growth towards the titanic central nave. Her heart beat against her chest, mirroring her worries. Agathon must be feeling her presence by now despite a generous use of darkness mana keeping her afloat and hidden. He was too powerful not to. What would he do?

She got her answer when a weak ping pulsed against her much improved camouflage. A careful observation revealed a familiar presence waiting at the end of the long corridor, twin horns peeking from behind the frame. She recognized the goat-like humanoid who had ‘welcomed’ her the first time. Agathon’s creature. What was his name again? Ah, yes. Mithran. He was probably here to bar her way. Or maybe to invite her in but make it a show of control.

Hmmm. What now? She could move around him, but there was no guarantee Agathon wouldn’t send him to track her down by messaging him.... somehow. There was also a possibility he was here to invite her further in, despite the possibility of a challenger. Agathon was supremely confident. He might just do that.

“Mithran,” she greeted, revealing her presence.

The male almost jumped. His expression of surprise and panic faded quickly, replaced by a cocky smile that didn’t fool Nestra.

“Well, if it isn’t sister dear. Father has sent me to greet you. He is currently occupied entertaining his grateful children... and your presence is not solicited.”

“I regret to inform you that I’m going to have to insist,” Nestra replied.

The goatman’s smile spread, from tight and annoyed to manic.

“I was hoping you would say that. He also said I was to teach you patience.”

“Can you even teach what you don’t understand?” Nestra wondered aloud.

“Indeed. The same way I can teach defeat,” he replied with a confident laugh. “Or humility. You are not entering the room while father entertains his sons.”

“I am getting Sereth out. Today,” Nestra pledged.

Mithran stood straighter. His stance changed from confident to focused. Mana flooded the tunnel: false earth. A spear appeared in his hand: another growth weapon.

“You can certain try.”

It was on.

Nestra didn’t hesitate. She charged, surprising him with her aggression, but he was still B-class. Mithran used his spear like a quarterstaff held in the middle, shortening his strikes. Simple, fast blows hammered against Nestra’s defenses as he aimed for her flanks but she was faster. An earth armor quickly coated his Skin. Nestra used Precision to land a precise blow on his chest. Both winced.

She’d drawn blood, which dripped down his armor. The sight upset her at a visceral level. Instincts held her back, drowned her desire to win in a sea of discomfort. This wasn’t like the spar against Argent, her lizard brother. That one had been a friendly competition. She was trying to hurt Mithran. He was doing the same. It was wrong. Without the shield of excitement or rage to protect her mind, Nestra struggled to give it her all. Mithran didn’t really anger her. He was pathetic. It was like facing a fiercely loyal, abused dog still defending their master despite it all. The thought distracted her enough that she failed to land another blow as her flurry of attacks pushed a defensive Mithran against the far wall. Every strike was barely blocked, but his strength prevented her from breaking through. He was all controlled fury reflected in the snarl of his face. Clearly he wasn’t sharing Nestra’s qualms.

She was almost too late to react when Mithran jumped back, then pushed his powerful legs against the wall.

“Shit.”

Nestra immediately dropped, using immovable at the same time.

Mithran exploded across the corridor like a missile. The air rushed from the sheer speed. A potent explosion sent small bits of growth flying through the corridor. In one of the side rooms, some pottery fell and broke.

Nestra turned to face the now fully coated form of Mithran while behind her, the stones sealed the corridor leading to the nave. The goatman was now a polearm-wielding behemoth, a minotaur well at home in the close quarters where Nestra couldn’t dodge. So she charged while he laughed.

“You won’t save anyone. Neither your infatuated brother nor the pathetic apes that populate your home planet. You cannot even save yourself.”

He moved forward at a confident, steady pace. Nestra knew she could escape, but she needed to disable him first. If that was even possible. His provocations failed to anger her which was stupid. Fucking maturity barring her from blind fury, dammit. Well she still had to try.

Nestra called water. A tide of false liquid rose from the ground, engulfing her. At the same time, she clad herself in darkness. With a laugh, Mithran struck where he thought she was, missing her. Nestra was above.

The water exploded, drenching Mithran and covering his eyes in a wave of mist. Nestra jumped on the ceiling, then down, striking him on the horn. Her blade clanged. He bleated in pain, as expected.

Nestra extended her hand, calling thunder. The dot of potential appeared on the spot she’d already hit once. A thunderbolt followed.

The growth of the wall extended, blocking her spell in another massive explosion. Dammit, that wasn’t Mithran controlling that. Probably Agathon. She was already within his domain, if barely.

Nestra landed just as a maddened Mithran built stones under his feet as a launching pad. She wouldn’t have time. He jumped.

Nestra blocked. She was slammed back. Immovable reinforced her, then water coated her back. Mithran still crashed her against the far stone.

“Oof.”

Pain. Shock. Every bit of condensed void energy left her lungs. She understood it now: Mithran had immovable as well, but he used it after launching himself. Her ribs hurt where her flat blade pressed them, blocking both horns before they could cave her chest in. Mithran was pulling back. So Nestra grabbed one of them, and punched down his neck. The blow failed to pierce through the stone armor.

Dammit.

“How are you still standing?” he asked, baffled. Then his eyes widened. “You already ascended your bones? When?”

“Try traveling around.”

Rage made him growl, but his smile widened.

“You should have picked the muscles.”

“There is nothing wrong with my muscles.”

Traveling had indeed helped, as had eating an A-class core. Mithran pulled back with a vicious snarl, but now Nestra’s dark water was covering him too. She cast another spell. Electricity scoured her opponent, water guiding it to the cracks in his defenses. His screams made her wince again.

This wasn’t working. She didn’t pursue him hard while he pulled back towards the far end of the corridor.

Attacking him was not just difficult, but Agathon might also help him again by moving the growth around. And those were just light wounds. She would be horrified long before inflicting the type of damage that could keep a B-class brawler down. It was already difficult to control two types of mana at once without the added complications. Too many new tools she had not yet mastered.

Frustrating. In the meantime, Mithran clearly didn’t care, almost as if...

Ah.

Well, that would explain... everything she’d seen this far, including his lack of deference for females while every other male their level showed at least some basic respect. And that meant a new plan. She needed him to charge again, but he was just waiting. He knew time was on his side.

“Are you ready to give up yet?” he mocked.

Nestra weaved her trap. At the same time, she needed to poke him a bit. Electric water tentacles were perfect but too complicated for her right now. Thankfully, she always had a backup.

“You and Agathon think that heavenlies are the unattainable horizon of civilization. That’s why I’m going to beat you both.”

Nestra was out of spells but she wasn’t out of options. Mithran’s confusion was clear on his face when she aimed with her Windowmaker. Good old Windowmaker. Always good at creating openings.

“What the —”

For the very first time in the long history of the abyss, void energy was convinced to accept that yes, nitrocellulose was allowed to ignite here despite there not being a single molecule of oxygen around. The resounding bang sent a crushed mana projectile against Mithran’s armored cheek. Blood splattered against the far wall. Nestra felt guilt, but mostly she felt recoil and a dark satisfaction that she would be the first to bring the light of human engineering to this far corner of the multiverse.

“Get fucked.”

“You!”

He was almost ready to charge. Nestra just had to needle him a little more.

“I bet you already know why you were excluded from the ceremony.”

“I was not excluded,” Mithran hissed, caught off guard by the non sequitur. “Father trusts me to bring his unruly child to heel!”

“It’s the same reason why you can freely attack me.”

She was almost done. Nostrils flaring, Mithran gathered a lot of power in his legs. He was furious.

“And the same reason why you stay here instead of wandering as much as the others,” Nestra guessed. “Or why they consider you with fear and disgust.”

“Shut up! Father loves me! You wouldn’t understand.”

Wow. It was almost too easy. Nestra smirked because she was done, and that was too much for the poor goat man. With a desperate cry, he lunged again.

“Same reason why you didn’t feel my trap.”

Nestra collapsed on herself, letting Mithran fly over her and into the aperture of a quickly opening, newly made portal. He had no way to course-correct mid-flight, and his heavy body traveled through the aperture just as Nestra had hoped it would. Technically, Aszhii could choose not to enter a portal but learned reflexes were strong. She followed him in. It was a very small spot with jungle barely visible beyond the thin membrane of folded space. He was standing up when she entered.

“Because you lack Aszhii instincts. The others feel it, that’s why they treat you so strangely. A bit of a failure, aren’t you?” Nestra mocked.

“Fuck you!”

It felt a little bad to punch down. That guilt only lasted long enough to remember why she was here, and why the fight wasn’t her priority. She was here for Sereth.

“I would beat you, Mithran, but I don’t have to.”

He understood what she meant immediately. His desperate race to the aperture was too slow.

“Safe travels.”

“Wait!”

The last thing she saw of him before leaving was the humiliation and despair on his face as the portal dissipated, dumping the entire subspace into another planet. It would take a while for him to find his way back, assuming he could even do it alone. Nestra winced, touching her tender ribs. Nothing too bad. There would be no battle against Agathon anyway. This would be a social contest. Again.

She shook her head to chase away the guilt. Was it another Aszhii instinct, or was she feeling genuinely sorry for the idiot? Nevermind that. It wasn’t as important as finishing her move.

With a confident step, she continued her path, the noises of conversations growing to a crescendo as she approached the nave. At this stage, the growth shifted to clear a path so Agathon had probably decided to funnel her rather than attempting to stop her. People also stopped talking. Her presence was expected.

Nestra entered the main chamber from a side path, yet even then she was the center of attention. Hundreds of males stood in the open space around tables loaded with victuals, precious drinks in crystal decanters and even small piles of C-class cores. For degustation. All the eyes were on her from a majority of heavenlies, but other species were represented as well. Damn, those were a lot of A-classes, and behind them, lounging on his throne, was Agathon. Their eyes met. Nestra resolutely climbed down the stairs.

“Hmmm.”

The pretense of hesitation froze her. It wasn’t even a challenge, really, or punishment. Nestra was fully inside of Agathon’s domain. He wished for her to stop, and so she did stop. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I do not recall inviting you, daughter. Unless, you have come with a request?”