Notes:

Hello everyone,

At least I managed to cut the time in half till the last chapter. I thank you all for your patience.
However, the chapter is not completely done, 20% are still missing. But I figured that I treat you with most of it in the meantime, considering the worldwide circumstances. I hope all of you are safe and healthy! Don't mess around with this virus, let me tell you that as a scientist!
I will post the rest of it in a separate chapter, so you get a notification and merge the parts later.

Also, I will change Alactel's name to Atanel. I only now realised that I stole the name from someone else's character, whose picture I used as a reference. And I won't steal, that is pathetic and absolutely below me. This update, along with some small corrections in the older chapter, will commence in the next weeks.

Special thanks go to my husband, who wrote the fighting scenes once again, my dearest beta SindelV and the ingenious bigwoof, whose crazy ideas I once more managed to get into this. Thank you all so much. Without you, this story would not be the same.

Of course, I also would like to thank all my lovely reviewers, no matter they reach out to me publicly or per PM. ALL feedback is appreciated!

te. nellis: Thank you!
Ronmr: Yes, I know, I took my dear time. But, once more: I will finish the story. It just will take a long time. So, I have to ask all of you to not ask me when the next chapter will be out and whether I will continue/finish the story. I write whenever the mood is right, so the quality of the story stays the same, and hence, I can't say when the next chapter will be done. It is done when it is. Not earlier, not later. And I WILL finish the story, as hard as it is to believe sometimes with my horrendous updating times.
bigwoof: Thank you, as always.
stabertiger: Yeah, I love dem plot twists! I am happy that you do too.
Grocamol: Indeed. Vect uses assets as he sees it fit. He sees use in her, which is why she has fared so well compared to Lisbeth.
SalemTheSpeakerOfTruth: Thank you for your kind words. I think we have discussed all your points enough per PM. Great discussion!

Anyways, enough rambling! Enjoy the chapter!

Love,
Shâtî

Chapter 21

Carnival of Death - Part 2

"I am War..."
—War, Klaivex of Lord Iutka

I JUMPED TO my feet, backwards, to see who I had to deal with now. I still was dizzy, but I got it under control.

After I had dodged his first effort, Hector Frostfury was as surprised as I was about that fact, disengaging a short distance backwards, watching me closely, only to notice how exhausted I was.

"I will enjoy this, traitor!" he spat at me.

Slightly swaying, barely recovering from what I just went through, I assumed my combat stance, daggers springing into my hands.

"So will I," I snarled.

Alas, he was not dazed, unlike me. With the speed of a well trained athlete, the hulking frame of Hector hurtled towards me across the tiny, paved square, faster than I would have expected. A low growl escaped his sharp, aesthetic face. His arms were spread wide, ready to grapple with one hand, as the probably capable wrestler he was trained to be, while his sword hand drew closer to his body, preparing for a temperamental lunge.

"This is it. My opening. Take it or lose it," I thought to myself in the split second it took this man to rush towards me. But knowing I was exhausted, while he had reserves, I knew, I couldn't give him the space. I dodged backwards and sidewards, towards a short, crumbled wall that had toppled away from the square ages ago. When the lunge came, I knew I had the best chance I would get, because no matter how stupid this knuckledragger was, he would not make the same mistake twice.

I needed to use the poison. He was too strong.

My daggers instinctively shot towards his blade in a cross hold, both daggers facing downwards in my hands, with both hands facing their back towards each other. I pushed his sword away from me. Together with my dodge, it was enough to make his attack miss less than a handful of centimeters. His lunge was, after all, packing his entire mass behind the blade and his hand-eye-coordination was impeccable, unlike his mental prowess.

I slid my daggers forward on the blade of his, finally reaching his lower arm, after what felt like an eternity, probably only a split-second. I cut with one dagger along his right hand ulna, the other one cutting deep along his less exposed radial bone, tearing through a vein, revealing thick, dark blood, with a few light red drops popping up here and there.

Too bad he had not been idle either. His massive left lower arm connected with my right jaw. Not his fist, not his hand, the entire lower arm. I felt my neck muscles tense up as a well trained defense, otherwise he would have snapped my neck. However, the momentum of the onslaught hurled me directly into his sword, which was buried deep between two stones of the broken wall. He also smashed me downwards, making the flat side of the blade connect with the other side of my jaw, finally robbing me of my senses.

I was unaware how much time had passed, but it could only have been seconds. I awoke to the gurgling, retching sounds of my rival, who knelt down beside me, vomiting violently in a heap of small stones beside where I had chosen to welcome his attack. Yes, the intense pain of the poison did this to the people I used it on. I had seen it before.

My chance was now. I shook my head, and grunted, trying to get blood where I needed it, noticing an all too familiar hot, sweaty feeling running down on my left temple, only to find that the poison which coated my daggers had taken too long to affect this bastard. He already had thrown my daggers across the square, and I could only make out one.

And he also noticed me moving.

I jumped to my feet, but so did Hector, spitting, clearing his mouth of his own bile, with a tormented expression. I raised my fists, as Lelith and Ailith had taught me, but this was not in my favour at all. He was already on his legs, I had to finish this fast, if I wanted to make use of the poison still hampering him. So I chose to lower my guard slightly, making him comfortable to use his superior height and weight.

He stepped forward twice, lunging again, with both hands closing around my throat, while I, deceptively half heartedly, tried to defend myself. As soon as his hands attempted to squeeze the life out of me, I tensed my neck muscles, and dived - my hands folded like in a prayer - through in between his hulking arms, biomechanics doing all the work for me, forcing his hands apart, him - still locked in his lunge - driving forward into me, forsaking his superior reach entirely.

He drove me into the short wall, but I was prepared for that, exhaling at the right moment, hurting, but without being stunned.

"Now we are close, you berating piece of shit!", I hissed, driving my thumbs - tipped with sharpened nails, backed by my enhanced strength - into his eye sockets, popping his eyes out, reminding me shortly of the sight when I once stepped on a slug, spilling its guts.

But I was not done here.

My legs locked behind his back, I smashed and locked my head between his chest and chin and ramming my thumbs even further and harder up and away from me, while he desperately tried to claw at me, my face buried and hidden away in his chest. And he screamed. Oh, how much he screamed! That bastard deserved it so much!

I felt his despair as well as his blood spill all over me. I tensed my back, stretching myself forward in a final attempt to finish this and noticed with a satisfying crunch that my right hand was extended more than my left.

"No more intact eye socket for you, asshole," I snarled.

I pulled back my legs, at which time he merely tried to shove me away, which he managed, me being significantly lighter than him, but I caught myself, anticipating that. I immediately lunged again at him, kicking him square in the groin and then I disengaged. He flailed around there for a while, largely blind - I noticed one of his eyes was gone entirely - brain damaged, and still intoxicated, unable to hear me over the sound of his rushing blood. I went to pick up the one dagger I could see, always keeping an eye on Hector, and as soon as I had it, I waited for my chance. Soon he tired, scared, damaged, bleeding and like the animal he was, he let loose a roar. I threw my dagger. Because he stood still, my dagger connected perfectly to his temple. He stiffened, then fell.

And here I stood utterly exhausted, hissing, "Now where the fuck is my second dagger?!"

I looked around more closely, panting. Only as the adrenaline rush slowly subsided, I realised how much my left jaw was hurting. I tasted blood. I spit it out and grunted in pain, as I realised that moving my mouth hurt like hell. I was not surprised if he had damaged my teeth severely.

I paced around the square, growing anxious as it took me some dear time to find my second dagger. When I was about to give up, I spotted it, nudged into a small pile of stones. Cussing, I drew it out, fearing that the blade would be damaged, but Drukhari craftsmanship was impeccable. There was not even a small nick on the blade.

I holstered the dagger, then went over to Hector's corpse to retrieve my second dagger.

I halted as I did.

Hector had fallen onto his face, which was probably for the better, considering the mess I had made of it. As I looked at his mistreated corpse, I felt… nothing. He had it coming. I had won. This was how things were.

Nonetheless, this was not what made me halt.

I saw another tattoo on the back of his shoulder. 'Final' it read.

"Passage. Final," I mumbled, remembering the tattoo I had seen on the other competitor I had met so far, who had been killed by the bounty hunter.

Now it dawned on me what I had forgotten all this time.

"Observe closely, when an enemy turns their back on you."

My master had actually told me, even though it had been very cryptic. It was such a stupid mistake and I was sure that I would answer for it if I made it out of here.

I had a tattoo too. The slight burning I had felt on my shoulder when I had started my long way down here, now made sense. I got one of those words imprinted on me too.

I hoped that I did not need the word I had imprinted on my shoulder, and that I found enough clues on other competitors to know what the tattoos were about. Cutting out a patch of my own skin was the last resort I would go to if all else failed.

I retrieved my dagger. Maybe I was lucky. Maybe I already knew enough runes to enter them somewhere. I had the feeling that I would need these runes for something. For what exactly, was written in the stars.

Wondering and with a hammering head, I made my way further down into the Sprawls. I needed to find a resting area anytime soon. I did not know how much more fights like this I could master in the state I was currently in. Also, it seemed as if I had passed most of the hopeless competitors and started to get into an area where the promising candidates remained.

I had to be wary.

Today was a good day. Lisbeth thought so, because she got to serve in the throne room and that meant that she got to see Novia and the others again!

The Overlord had been rather cryptic about who would be coming, but it mattered little, Lisbeth knew what kind of basics the Overlord demanded. The Overlord had beaten that all too well into her.

As she had left the throne room and entered the hidden pathways that lead down to the kitchen, she allowed herself a relieved sigh. Leaving the Overlord's presence always was good for her, she did not miss the strangling feeling she always had when she was near the Overlord for one second. And yet, she felt guilty about it, the nagging feeling in the back of her head that she had forgotten something or that she would get punished because she was not there if the Overlord needed her.

Still, this day was good. It would be a short break from the horror of having to be with the Overlord, even though every step she took hurt. Lisbeth had found a while ago that this little pain did not matter as much to her anymore. In the beginning, it had been so much worse, now, it was just a constant companion… and a constant reminder of how little the Overlord thought of her.

Finally, she arrived in the kitchen, limping past the leering overseer. She had learnt that worrying about every Dark Eldar she saw was not wise. There was only one she really had to be concerned about and she needed all her attention for that.

She relaxed as she went into the room where the other slaves waited for her. As she entered, Novia was already waiting for her and hugged her immediately. Lisbeth grunted in pain, as Novia was too stormy with her show of affection and squeezed some parts of Lisbeth that were hurting too hard.

As if she was burning hot, Novia let go of her and said, "I am so sorry, Lisbeth!" When she saw how beaten up Lisbeth looked, she covered her mouth with her hand in pure shock and said, "By the Emperor… what has he done to you?"

"Nothing I didn't deserve," Lisbeth replied immediately. If the Overlord got wind of it that she was talking behind his back, it meant trouble and she could not have that.

Novia got the hint, though, and said sadly, "I see."

"I… I have to ask you something, Novia," Lisbeth said.

"Anything," her friend replied.

"Has the Overlord," she swallowed, mouth dry, scared to ask, but she had to, "ever beaten up Temira as hard as me?"

Novia's features darkened. "That other bitch he had before you? No. But no wonder about that."

"Hey! Don't call her that! She's my friend too," Lisbeth snapped.

"You are friends with that monster?" Novia seemed to be genuinely surprised.

"Why do you call her a monster?" Lisbeth asked, hurt.

"Because she is no better than they are! She tortured Bess with those horrible rings and enjoyed it!" Novia gave back.

Lisbeth halted in her thoughts. Enjoyed it? Temira had told her that she had punished Bess, but she had not told her that she had enjoyed it. Temira would enjoy torturing another human? That was… wrong. Why had she not told her? Had she not realised herself? Or had Novia misunderstood? It must have been something the Overlord had done to her. It had to be.

"No… I don't believe that…" Lisbeth gasped, close to tears.

Novia hugged her again, gently this time. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way. I didn't know that you didn't know. If I had, I would have been gentler with my words, I'm sorry."

Lisbeth shook her head. "It's ok." She looked Novia straight in the eye. "But you have to believe me that Temira would never do that by pure self-motivation. It must've been… you know."

Novia shook her head too. "I don't know, Lisbeth. He never beat her up as much as you. She always looked fine, never injured and I heard from others that he actually protected her once. Maybe she struck some kind of deal with him. Or likes serving him. And from what I saw how she treated us, I think it's the latter."

Lisbeth sighed. "If she comes back, I have to ask her." Still, the information that Temira had indeed gotten better treatment than her shocked her. The Overlord was planning something with Temira, it had to be that way. Lisbeth had the terrible feeling that Temira was in danger, yet, there was nothing she could do about it. But she had to remember to tell her!

"Where is she anyway?" Novia asked.

"Fighting for her life in a terrible contest," Lisbeth gave back.

"Oh… I'm sorry, I didn't know. That must be terrible for you," Novia said.

"Yeah. But since I don't get to see a lot of it, I assume she is doing fine. Otherwise, the Overlord would let me know for sure," Lisbeth gave back. "Enough of this. We have to get moving, the last thing I need right now is to make the Overlord unhappy."

Novia nodded. "Sure. Let's get to it."

Lisbeth felt disheartened. Though she enjoyed the company of her crew, she could not stop thinking about what Novia just had told her about Temira. Why would Temira keep this from her and have her find out that way?

Then, to her great dismay, the time she could spend with the other slaves drew to a close, and she had to get back into the throne room, where the Overlord was.

With a queasy feeling and the ever-nagging fear of punishment on her mind, she resigned herself to her fate and entered the throne room.

As it was expected of her, she bowed before the Overlord, before sitting beside his throne. She swallowed uncomfortably, as the strangling sensation in her throat was back. Had it always been like this? Was it her fear that got the better of her, as soon as she was close to him? She could not tell.

With a bowed head, she said, "Everything is set, Overlord."

The Overlord did not even consider her worthy of an answer.

Since she now had time to think again, her thoughts went back to what Novia had said about Temira. For a while, she kept pondering, sad, confused and terrified that she would lose her best friend to this hell they both were in.

All of a sudden, the Overlord sighed - it was one of the annoyed sorts, Lisbeth could tell - and she winced. A second later, the Overlord growled at her, "I can feel your thoughts milling around. What is it this time?"

Lisbeth felt ashamed by her obvious mistake and felt even more ashamed that she had to tell him...

Of course! That was it! That was the reason why Temira had not told her! She had been ashamed of her feelings!

Lisbeth was relieved. Temira was herself, after all. She was still… human.

"I am sorry, Overlord. An obvious answer eluded me, but now I understood it. I will not be bothering you anymore, Overlord," she said, ducked, afraid to get hit again.

Lisbeth was relieved as the Overlord said, "Fine. I need my attention focused on something else anyway."

She looked up as she heard the gate of the throne room open. Lisbeth was surprised as she saw who came in. It was the Archons Zuol, Nuscul and Varys, except that Varys was in shackles and stripped completely naked. What had happened?

Lisbeth was dying to know and she expected that she would, as usual, not get to know, because she did not speak their language. Even bigger was her surprise as she actually understood what they were talking about this time… and it was dire news indeed.

It needed a lot of Nuscul's composure to keep from grinning. This whole thing was just too delicious. Arrogant Varys certainly got what he deserved, thinking he could outsmart the Overlord himself. He delighted in pushing his former superior to the floor.

Still, he had to tread carefully. A job well done did not mean that the Overlord was automatically benign towards those that had done their job well. Nuscul was aware that the mistakes he had made in the past still weighed heavily on his reputation and showing too much pride and confidence right now, or even spoiling the moment with some ill-placed humour, could ruin it all.

"Now that we have some privacy from the prying ears of dear Lady Malys, I think it is time to talk business, Pachu'a," Vect said, the delighted undertone still not gone from his voice.

All in the room (well, at least, all that mattered, the imbecile slave did not count) knew very well that there was little business to be had.

"Oh, please," Varys scoffed, "are you going to tell me that I can buy a quick death by telling you everything you could find interesting?"

Vect smiled. It was one of the dangerous sorts. Then again, Nuscul did not remember a single occasion, on which Vect's smiles had not been dangerous in some way. "Even after all that happened, I still believe that you are smart enough to know that this will not be the case, no matter how good your information might be."

"Then what 'business' are we talking about?" Varys hissed. It was easy to see how distressed he was - which was absolutely unsurprising, given his situation.

"What makes me wonder, is how you conceived the notion that you could outmanoeuvre me. It seems like such an obvious miscalculation for my former spymaster. Did you indeed believe you had finally figured me out?" Vect said, smiling to himself. It still was a facial expression that could kill and make one's blood freeze.

Varys kept silent. There was not really much he could say at this point.

"Not talkative, are we, hmm?" Vect gloated. In a calmer tone, he continued, "Regardless, I will find out eventually, which brings me back to your fatuous plan of having my slave in the Carnival illegally dispatched. Bribing one of the bounty hunters and expecting me not to find out? I have to say, I am almost insulted."

Varys let out a snorted laugh, his voice shaking, "Took you long enough."

Vect did not react to that outright insult in the slightest. Nuscul figured that Varys would dearly pay for all those things and he wondered why he did it. Was he trying to elicit some sort of careless reaction from Vect? What important thing did he know about that made him throw it all away?

"Also, it doesn't matter. I know I am done for, but she will still die and your great plan will go up in flames nonetheless, no matter what you will try to save it and her." Varys sounded strangely confident with that.

Vect smiled slyly. "How sure are you about that, little Pachu'a? Such a presumably sharp mind, and yet so little understanding about correct planning. If you had studied the Foundations better, you would know that you can never cross me by the imagined disruption of one singular plan. She might die, yes. But it will, ultimately, not matter." Now he bared his fangs. "I am looking forward to finding out what you think you know about my great plan." The last two words sounded like an insult and the statement was dripping with mockery.

"Go ahead. I will keep the best parts from you," Varys sneered. His confidence was almost quaint. "Oh, and don't try to pretend that you don't care about her. You need her and we both know that."

The Overlord slightly shook his head, while keeping his gaze transfixed on Varys. "If it were not so ignominious, I would find your theories highly entertaining." With a chuckle, he added, "It seems as if I really have to thank Aurelia for her help with housekeeping. She always was good at sniffing out like-minded conspiracy theorists."

"You can deny it all you want, I know better!" Varys spat.

Vect sighed in an annoyed manner. "Very well, I tire of this little game. I see that you are too impetuous right now for proper conversation. I will let you calm down and then we will try that again later - in a more fitting environment for your lacking behaviour."

With a slight wave of Vect's hand, some warriors came and took Varys away - probaby to Vect's personal dungeons.

Nuscul somehow regretted that the main scapegoat was out of the room and Vect's attention was focused on them again. Somehow, even though they had done as he had demanded, he had a bad feeling.

And the Overlord's next words confirmed it, "And now, to the two of you. Let me enlighten you on your true role in all of this."

I had the feeling of being preyed upon for over an hour at this point. From my peripheral vision I noticed Shatra, stalking me, probably for longer than an hour. She was waiting until my exhaustion forced me to lie down.

What she didn't know was, the longer she gave me time, the more I recovered, thanks to the modifications the Maester had gifted me. These regenerative powers were something else to behold, I was truly grateful.

I led her to believe that I was on the brink of a physical breakdown, often feigning fits of weakness, microsleeps and the likes. The area around me was so desolate, it was more cavernous than ruins. I could use this to my advantage, as Shatra was excellent in close combat, but large, so my advantages were manoeuvrability, flexibility and her believing that I was close to my breaking point. I sucked a bit on one of the rations I had found in the beginning (yes, they still consisted of the semi-solid, tasteless and gooey white paste I had had to endure for over a year now), not too much though, I could not allow myself to compromise my already diminished combat prowess.

My left jaw was still throbbing from the fight with Hector, some teeth were definitely knocked loose, as I had to find out while chewing, henceforth I tried to avoid my left side. I took a small gulp of water, too much and I would grow tired and weary soon.

Shatra was nobody to shake off, I would either kill her soon or be ended by her. Because if I tried to get away from her, I was sure that she would lunge at me the second she realised it and I was pretty sure that I was helpless against her out in the open. The thought of killing again was unpleasant, pictures of disposing of - no, murdering - Hector were etched into my mind, and I knew that slaying Shatra - or at least attempting to do so - would not be any less brutal.

I kept wandering aimlessly, at least to an observer, looking for a good place to confront her, when…

There. The cavern.

A small, cavernous heap of debris came sharply into my focus. I had almost missed it, but somehow, once more, my mind had been forcefully focused on it.

I decided to roll with it. So far, these compelling thoughts I had just helped me greatly. I decided to wonder about it later.

My darkvision allowed me to peer inside, judging the fitness of the place for the deed that lay before me without entering it.

It was perfect.

It narrowed down significantly very soon, with plenty of space above, allowing me to hide away from somebody with a larger physique easily, while also rewarding flexibility more than mere mass. I yawned, pretending to almost fall asleep - my time on earth as being part of a lay actors group came in handy. I also let my gaze theatrically wander around the area, carefully avoiding the spot where I knew Shatra was hiding, before I entered the cave.

As soon I was inside, knowing that no light outside would grant sight onto me, I drew my daggers and backed into the cave as far as I could, without sacrificing my ability to throw my daggers. There still was more space to back up into, which I would need. Shatra was from a Death World after all. She probably had been exposed to a load of toxins which could kill my terran hometown in just some minutes. Relying on my poisons was not exactly a good strategy, so I had to grant myself more angles to work with.

I waited a few minutes. Then I started to make slight snoring sounds. It took Shatra not long to take the bait. Sneakily, she approached the cave and went through the entrance, an entrance not permitting her massive frame easily.

Now.

I threw both daggers, dead center, but Shatra, the natural born survivor she was, twisted her body in the last moment, one dagger hitting the furs she was wearing and the rocks behind her - a definitive miss - while the other one sunk into her lower waist with a satisfactory thud. A scream followed, and she snarled, no signs of poison at work here.

Of course. She was Yaelindra's slave.

I smiled wryly. The poison queen of course had made sure that the poisons she had provided me with would not work on her competitor.

I should have expected as much.

Shatra removed the dagger, I backed further down into the narrow dead end. No chance for flight now. And her gaze had it, the intent not only to kill, but to tear me apart, rage over strategy, she believed this fight was over already.

Excellent, I needed exactly that.

With a roar she lunged down the narrowing corridor, throwing her mass at me the way she probably had been taught and always did it, with the result of hitting several boulders that contributed to the increasing narrowing of the corridor. She clawed, she screamed and her sharp nails slashed the air just a few centimetres in front of my face.

"Good estimate", I thought with relief, because I had used all the space in the narrow niche I was in. I had one arm in front of my body, directed at Shatra, the other one behind me, in the final, tiniest space the corridor allowed.

"COME OUT, YOU COWA…" her bellowing was interrupted by my fist, hitting her chin multiple times, as well as her trachea, just to realise, as I rushed forward to close the distance, that she had an enlarged tracheal plate.

"FUCK!", I screamed in my mind, I knew I could not choke her. While she shook her head to clear herself of the short blackout that hitting her jaw had gotten me, I jumped, propelled myself upwards into the corridor, quickly climbing over her, ending up back to back with her. I buried my feet hard into the ground, shoving her deeper into the narrows with force, denying her any chance to turn around, while my flexibility allowed me to close my arms around her head.

She tried to tuck her head into her chest first, a good defense, but I turned around and kicked her several times into her knee pits, making her slump down, the friction of the narrowing, scar shaped corridor making it hard for her to stand back up as she fell forward into a kneeling position.

When she screamed a roar of helplessness and pain as the debris - made of stone, steel, wires and other sharp things - cut into her, I closed my arms around her neck, bracing my feet firmly on her calves, going hip to hip with her, while my hip pointed away from her. And I started tearing, hard, and knew, I could not strangle her, so I needed to snap her neck. She tried to slip away, but I had my hip firmly braced against her, the more she tried to escape me, the more stuck she became because of the narrowing corridor, while giving herself less space to work with.

Just a trapped animal after all…

I took a deep breath, stretched myself forcefully and tugged at her neck with all the force of my body, using my braced hips as leverage against her. There was a crunch. I let go, thinking my job was finished, but only then I realised I had not killed her, but turned her into a quadruplegic, her face distorted in hatred.

Whatever she thought of me, I was not that far gone. Out of the debris, I pulled a sharp metal rod, apparently former construction material, and went to her. The angle of her neck made it clear it was not a ruse and I refused to let her die like that, caged animal or not. I knelt down, looking into her eyes, pure hatred staring back at me, as I rose the metal shiv.

"I am sorry!" I whispered, as I drove the shiv down into her skull, several times, to make sure she had a quick and painless end. Shatra had been, after all, the closest thing to a friend I had had whilst training. I owed her that much.

I knew not why, out of respect or some other thing, but I felt more exhausted than before. I sunk backwards, panting, just sitting there for a few moments.

Maybe it was just the day.

It was likely, it had been a strain.

Who would have guessed.

I chuckled, started laughing and could not stop for a while. That was probably the most British thought I ever had, "It's been a hassle, this day, hasn't it?"

I shook my head. I was being silly.

Or was I losing it?

No matter.

As I had regained my composure, I looked up again, feeling sick as I beheld the maimed corpse of Shatra. But it was necessary, because she too had a tattoo on her shoulder. I was lucky that the furs she was wearing were asymmetrical, otherwise I probably would have missed it.

'Challenge' it said.

These were certainly parts of a sentence. I felt as if I still missed something. With any luck, I would find out without having to cut myself open.

I got up, retrieved my daggers, which meant shoving Shatra around once more to get to one of them, whilst the other lay in front of the entrance to the cavern.

Actually, the cavern would not have been a bad place to rest up. But I could not bring myself to do it whilst the corpse was in here.

I shook my head once more.

I had to stop thinking like that. It was them or me. And I refused to let it be me.

"All animals. All disposable," I hissed, like a mantra that would save my sanity.

Precisely.

I felt reinforced in my thinking that I was right…

I blinked.

… and that something was off with me.

I only now realised it. My first encounter with the beast had been too sudden for me, my feelings too tumbled back then to realise it. It had taken me a while to understand it but it all boiled down to one thing: I was too good.

When I had encountered the beast in the beginning, I should not have been able to judge my surroundings that well under these circumstances. One of my biggest weaknesses was that I did not react well under time pressure. I had a hard time with those tests back then in Beltis's training. More than once I had failed because of the headlessness I usually had displayed.

But not back then. I could not be completely sure of the time, but I guessed that it had been about two days. I somehow had managed, though I had been blindly running for cover, to keep a cool head and look out for the opportunity that had saved me. I was sure that I would have missed it in training.

Also, the way I had sensed the predator had been queer. It just had been the feeling of danger, pinpointed onto a certain spot, which had made me aware of it. Never before had my danger sense been this accurate.

Then there had been the situation with Josmina and the Parched. I did not know how I had been able to snap out of my horrified nausea so quickly. I was sure that I would have been so lost in my thoughts normally, that I would have missed the Parched and would have perished back then.

The same thing had happened with the crystal-horror-thing. I shuddered as I thought back about it. I had been lost in complete panic, how had I been able to snap so well out of it again?

And the cavern… it just had been perfect for ambushing Shatra. Just as if I had known before even seeing it.

Those commanding thoughts I had, they had been as if someone had given me a slap into the face, only mentally. As if I got pulled out of my own headlessness, by my own mind. It was a truly weird thing.

So what the hell was going on here? Was it just the overshooting adrenaline or something else? And if so, what on earth was this 'something else'?

With completely tumbled feelings, torn between fear, tenseness and confusion, I went further down into the arena.

Zuol would have grinned, if the situation had allowed it.

Varys's wild conspiracy theories were nothing new. He had seen this kind of behaviour before, trying to wiggle out of a hopeless situation by daring the Overlord and accusing him of a bigger, direr plan. It was pathetic, he had expected more stature from Varys.

The most composed always fell the hardest.

However, what the Overlord said next, confirmed his feeling of the coming reckoning he had had all that time, "Yevhen, it were never your own efforts that exposed Varys, which diminishes them quite significantly."

Zuol was sure that Vect delighted in the visible paling of Nuscul's face. Zuol smiled slightly to himself. Malicious glee never grew old. He had known that Vect would not put such a significant task solely into the hands of the second-youngest Circle member!

Vect continued mercilessly, "Valossian had come to me even before your conjoint raid and informed me about Varys's suspicious activities. He suspected him to be a weak link for a long time and hence, had a very close eye on him. We both decided to forward his contacts to you, to put your capabilities of bringing him down to the test, considering your past transgressions." The Overlord paused there, his gaze piercing the young Archon, who was probably sweating blood by now.

Zuol relaxed. That explained the sudden interest of Sythrac in Nuscul. It seemed as if he had little to fear from that side, then. Good.

Vect then deigned to continue, "Undoubtedly, you will be relieved to hear that you, at least, passed that test."

Nuscul nodded stiffly and replied with a small bow, "Yes, Overlord, I am grateful for the chance to prove myself."

"As you should be," Vect uttered sharply. "I am, Overlord," Nuscul gave back dutifully. Everything else was, after all, unwise.

"Good," Vect concurred. "As to you, Aaryn, you redeemed yourself after getting vilified, by helping in catching the detractor. Your part is herewith done in this and you can expect neither repercussion nor commendation for it."

Just a small rebuke, nothing too serious. "Thank you, Overlord," Zuol replied.

"Very well. As to the refashioning of the hierarchy, I will announce my verdict in that regard at the next Circle meeting. And now, I have spent enough time with this disarray in the Circle and I hope for all your sakes that it was the last one for quite a while. I have more important things to deal with. We are done here," the Overlord stated with a cold stare.

Both Archons bowed and left the throne room.

Outside, they both started marching down the stairs in silence for a while, as it was ceremonially expected from them.

As they were halfway down, Nuscul suddenly said, "I guess I still got out on top of that one. I just wonder whether he will promote me or not."

Zuol smiled slyly. "I wouldn't count on that."

Nuscul sighed. "Figures."

Zuol returned, "But if he does, you get to sit beside me in the meetings."

Nuscul let out a short laugh, which sounded tormented. "And I have to keep my mouth shut about that, won't I?"

The older Archon bared his fangs, "Yes, and I can't wait until you start slipping again."
"Don't underestimate me. I can be quite civil if I need to," Nuscul retorted.

Flashing his teeth with a smirk, Zuol said, "Want to bet on it?"

It was time he engaged in a bet he could win.

I honestly was not caring anymore that blood was on my hands. In fact, I now admitted that I had enjoyed dispatching Hector. He so had it coming because of his arrogant, elitist, Imperial attitude. With Shatra, I still had mixed feelings, as I had somewhat liked her attitude. Then again, in the end she had shown that she was nothing more than a wild animal. Good riddance.

Also, they only had been the two notable deaths I had caused until now. In the last hours, I had met some other competitors on the way, but I had been able to deal with them far quicker than with those two. I had found most of them at the exits of different compartments of the arena. Naturally, the exits were choke points that forced competitors to a certain extent to meet. I felt lucky that so far the compartment system had not been an issue for me, even though the whole Parched situation had been too close for my taste.

Also, I had found other runes on the bodies of my fellows in misery, and ultimately, a sentence had formed: Passage to the final challenge. I was certain that I would need this code for something later in the arena, probably to unlock a path that would lead me to victory.

It was blatantly unfair. Most of the competitors could not read Drukhari runes, hence, they would never find out that those runes actually set together a message. But what had I expected? The Dark Eldar did not play fair. It was only natural that they would only allow the fittest to win this race.

I had found a resting area again and had allowed myself to doze a little bit, allowing my most severe injuries to regenerate that much that they were not hindering me anymore. They still made me vulnerable, but would not impede my performance.

At this point, I really wondered how most of the others had made it so far, when they were so careless and possessed such dull senses. A quick dive in, a clean slash and it was all over. I had not even used the poison on my daggers, since they had all been such easy prey. Then again, I did not know how many charges were in them anyways and I did not want to find out in a fight with a tough opponent that their charges were limited or depleted. Waste not, want not.

About murdering in cold blood, I felt… nothing.

They were all so insignificant. Just pawns on a chessboard. Quickly sacrificed, badly trained. Nobody cared about them. I probably did them a favour.

I was so matter-of-factly about taking lives. Nonetheless, I was right and it was time for me to face that truth.

And yet, I knew, some Archons either lost or won bets over them and me, were enraged that their competitor got dispatched or gloated over the death of the useless slaves they had sent in to die.

I wondered which of the above I was, but by now I suspected that I belonged to the interesting ones in this competition. By now, my fears and qualms about being just sent in to die were gone. I had a chance. I had… hope.

My master and Lisbeth. I would come back. I had to come back.

My neck cracked around as I heard someone approaching. I was lucky that I was on a bigger square once more, even though my way was far more restricted than it could be. I was not sure which path I had chosen, or if I had chosen at all. So far, my way had been full of fighting and tests of endurance and pain tolerance. Using my brain had not been exactly a demand. Maybe I had overlooked something and now ran the long way around on the stamina path, but somehow, I doubted that, as I was sure that my navigation had been impeccable.

I hid behind some debris, breathing flatly, readying my daggers for combat. As I saw who was approaching me, I hesitated.

It was Titus Ironmeadow. He would be a tough opponent, he was as equally skilled and strong as Hector and the fight with the latter had been way too hard and too close. I got the jump on him, which was good and would give me a great advantage.

Yet, I hesitated.

In fact, now that I thought about it, there was another way in which Titus could serve me. He was an oblivious idiot. And with a little bit of luck, that could work to my advantage. If he made it to the end and realised that the prize was a lie, a thing, of which I still was completely certain, he would certainly lose it and maybe take some competition with him in a flying rage.

No, Titus served me more alive than dead.

Therefore, I kept hiding and let him pass. I observed in which direction he went and decided to take another route. I had the distinct feeling that I would meet him again, in the end.

Only after he was out of sight, I realised that I just left someone alive to guide them to their - for me favourable - misery. And yet, it felt… natural. Instinctual. Just like breathing. I knew it was morally wrong, but I also knew it was the right thing to do right now.

Why did it not shake me anymore? Was I that dead inside?

No time for that now.

I sneaked away, wary of my surroundings, in case Titus had spotted me and planned on ambushing me himself. In fact, I ended up thanking that idiot, as my very astute observation of my surroundings showed me subtle markings on the wall. If I had not looked so closely, I would have missed them for sure. One was in the shape of a brain, the other in the anatomically correct shape of a heart.

Of course.

Brain and brawn.

I knew which path to take. Now, my brain power would finally be tested.

It seemed as if so far the arena had been designed to separate the wheat from the chaff.

Lisbeth was torn between stomach-freezing fear and a small, flickering, warm feeling of triumph, as she went back with the Overlord to his first set of quarters, those, which Temira also knew and which were much more pleasant to be in. She did not know where that warm feeling came from, and its sensation was so unfamiliar, that the horror of the realisation that she had not felt anything positive in the last months almost snuffed it out again. Still, not all of her was lost and Lisbeth was determined to grasp for every straw she could get, even though the Overlord was pushing her every single day, tearing down all her defences, peeling her personality away bit by bit. The most terrible notion about it all was that the Overlord made sure she realised it, even though her mind was subdued in ways she never even had imagined.

It actually made her suspicious that the Overlord had shown her so little of what Temira was facing in the Carnival. She had to be doing rather well, since she got to see nothing of it, especially because Varys had been plotting to have her killed by an assassin. Would the Overlord do something about it? Did the Overlord care? Had the Overlord already taken care of it and just played with Varys?

Questions she would not get answers to. But maybe it was time to show the Overlord that she was not as stupid as the Overlord thought. She needed something to succeed and even though the notion of failing and taking the fall for it once more almost choked her, she needed to survive and she would not do that if she kept on behaving like a mindless pet. She understood that the Overlord had liked in Temira that she was daring and smart, yet obedient.

So, she scraped together what was left of her courage, though it was almost nothing, and said, as the Overlord had unchained her in his quarters, "I know you won't let anything happen to her, Overlord. Varys didn't lie, did he? You need her for something, Overlord."

The Overlord asked, apparently completely unfazed by the fact that she had understood the conversation, "Humour me. Where does that knowledge come from?"

It unnerved Lisbeth to a degree she could not even fathom that he was always so placid, so unreadable, so unmovable. It made her so unsure of herself! But she pushed onward, "I am seeing it in the way you treat me against how you treat Temira, Overlord. She is different. She is special to you, Overlord. Varys saw it too and acted upon it. And you had him destroyed for that, Overlord."

Still with the smile of a predator, the Overlord gave back, "Special… not quite right. Pleasant. That is the word I would use when describing Temira. She is pleasant to have as a personal slave, because she is so devoted to her task and not a constant olfactory nuisance. But is being pleasant enough to keep her safe at all costs? And is it enough for others to try and take her life by force? Varys's betrayal has layers you know nothing about and I certainly would not call out a blood hunt on him for trying to kill a pleasant slave." The Overlord shook his head, still staring at her. "You understand very little about this place if you believe that. Also, you have proven to me once more how limited your mind is by believing every word Varys has said. He tried to make a desperate case, to lure out something, by throwing foundationless accusations around, that is simply not there, and I let him believe that he did. Do not assume that anyone in this city knows what I really think and plan, least of all those that believe it the most. Maybe you should think about why I am even bothering explaining my thoughts to you. Here is a small hint for you: it is not because I regard you so highly that you deserve an explanation."

Even though Lisbeth was as beaten down as she probably could be, she still possessed a sharp mind and immediately understood his implication. Terror crept into her once more, as she realised that the Overlord probably told her because she was so expendable. It was certainty for her now: the Overlord would end her rather sooner than later.

However, she did not have any more time to think about that for now, because the Overlord chuckled softly, yet maliciously, grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up the stairs, into the library, onto the chair in front of his desk and with a wave of his hand, the Overlord made the big, green crystal, which was lying on the table, glow and project a screen into thin air.

Lisbeth's eyes grew wide as she saw what, or rather, who was on the screen. She was looking at Temira from above. Even though her best friend was clad in some kind of bodyglove, she knew it was her. Temira was currently standing in front of a signboard, on which something was written Lisbeth could not make out. As it seemed, Temira was pondering something, apparently the text on the sign was a riddle or puzzle to gain a certain combination for a keyboard with eighteen keys. Finally, she put in a combination and Lisbeth cried out as suddenly some kind of corrosive got dropped on Temira. She managed to dodge most of it, but some of the liquid splashed onto her lower arm, instantly eating away her flesh, leaving her falling on the floor, screaming and writhing in pain, while the acid was exposing her bones within seconds.

Lisbeth wanted to look away, but, of course, the Overlord made her watch. Reduced to a sobbing mess once more, she could do nothing but sit and weep, as the Overlord growled, while gesturing at the screen, "That was a rather simple test, and if she makes it back, she will suffer for how hard she has failed me, as I expect better of the competitor I hand-picked. And you will watch when I tear her to pieces. Also, by now, she is the only one not knowing that there is an assassin in the Carnival that is out for her. Now even you, the incompentent failure of the both of you, knows about the bounty hunter." Then, the Overlord leant down to her and hissed into her ear, making her blood freeze, "So, slave girl, how sure are you that I will not let anything happen to her?"

After traversing it for a bit, I noticed something about the mind path which I disliked greatly. It gave me little to no opportunity to hide. The mind-path was absolutely straightforward, no routes to choose. It was one subterranean corridor down, with no way to escape it, as it burrowed itself through the debris of the Sprawls. It was narrow, which meant that if I encountered obstacles, I would have no way around them… and also no way around other competitors.

That was something to worry about, but so far, I was alone.

The tunnel design also made it hard to navigate around here. I had no idea where I was going, I just had to trust that it was the right way. I did not like that notion one bit.

After a while, I came to the first obstacle. It showed me how complicated things would get.

In front of me was a wall made out of glass, which had a metal door embedded into it. On the other side of the wall I could see some kind of small drone, which was floating in the air, a button on the other side of the room, as well as another, closed door. In front of the glass wall a helmet was sitting on a bracket and it was connected to a console via various hoses and cables.

I drew closer and found a data-pad lying beside the helmet. I switched it on and was greeted by letters I had almost forgotten: Low Gothic letters or latin letters, as I knew them.

Right.

Most competitors probably were not able to read Drukhari runes. Why did I keep on forgetting that?

I really was losing it.

I read the short text in the now almost unfamiliar font and I was not happy at all about what I got to read. Apparently, this helmet was a device that would transfer my consciousness into the drone I was seeing. I would then be able to control the drone like it was my body and would be enabled to push the button in the other room, which would allow me to progress.

"Yeah, and it's going to be that easy. Sure," I scoffed.

There would be strings attached. I was absolutely positive about that.

Also, I did not like the idea one bit to leave myself unguarded for the duration of the puzzle. If another competitor came along, my body was helpless. And then what?

However, turning back now was a luxury I could not afford. I had to go through with it.

I reassured myself that I had not missed anybody closely behind me, then I took a deep breath and donned the helmet.

As expected, the experience of having my consciousness ripped out of my body was anything but pleasant. First, I felt like my head would burst, then, my body grew cold and limp, starting at my feet. Was that how it felt to slowly die? I wanted nothing more but to rip the helmet off my head again, but I knew I had no choice. I needed to succeed. There was no time for fear or weakness. As the numbness reached my upper body, I collapsed in front of the console, this I could feel all too well. I felt like I suffocated, as I lost control of my body, but somehow, I was no longer able to react emotionally. In the end, it actually felt pleasant. Then, I blacked out…

...to reawaken again. It almost felt like I had blinked and now was here, in this new body. I felt… strange. Lighter. Unaffected by gravity.

I slowly opened my eyes. Somehow, the movement of my eyelids was very precise. No. Not eyelids. Shutters.

What I saw reminded me of what had happened. I saw my own body, half collapsed on the console, with the helmet on. The image was very disturbing, even though I remembered and knew how to get back.

Yes. The button.

I turned around, surprised at how natural it felt moving this new, mechanical body. I had not expected that it would be that easy. I missed being able to turn my head, though. I could feel the shell of the body I was in, not hearing heartbeat and breathing was… disturbing. And still… this artificial body I now possessed, it felt… alive. I could feel the air whiffing over me as I turned and I was able to smell, even though I could not breathe.

I moved forward, towards the button.

I buckled backwards almost immediately again, as a grate got dropped in front of me. I moved backwards to get a good look at it, or to search for a way around it.

Of course, there was no way around it. But there was a way to remove it again.

In the middle of the grate, there was a board with a series of numbers and letters on them. I wanted to chuckle in disbelief, but found that I could not speak in this form.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!" I thought.

It was a radical equation. How I had hated those in school! It was ironic, because I had a good understanding of mathematics, but those abnormalities always had vexed me particularly hard. The irony was killing me. I did not know what I had expected on the mind path, but it certainly had not been solving a radical equation.

I scraped what was left of my mathematical knowledge together, realising how queer it felt. It made me realise that I had not used the scientific knowledge inside me for a long time. It seemed as if I had been in Commorragh for an eternity. Somehow, this time, the thought did not provoke nostalgia or sadness in me. In fact, it left me rather empty. There was no use in mourning over something I would never get back, especially because my life had been barely acceptable. I realised that in a way my life in Commorragh so far had given me something I had always longed for in the life I had led before: to be different and maybe even special.

Even though I could never be sure, I suspected that how I had fared so far in Commorragh was not the average way a slave fared. I had to do well, somehow I knew, even though I was fighting for my life right now.

I tore my thoughts back into the here and now again. No time to ponder those things now.

I found that I had a keyboard in front of me, which allowed me to write down notes, for which I was grateful. Solving radical equations without being allowed to write anything down was nearly impossible… at least for me.

I guessed it was for the better that I could not speak, because otherwise I would have cussed all the time. I had always dealt with those monstrosities by swearing at them in my teenage years. It had always worked, and I did not intend to alter my modus operandi now.

Then, I came to the end, and, of course, found that there was actually no real result. Only an approximation could be made, which was typical for really complicated equations. And this one had been a tough one.

So, I entered into a predefined input screen to which conclusion I had come. Some baleful seconds passed, in which nothing happened. I understood in these seconds that I still possessed my emotional landscape, because I was afraid that I had made a mistake.

However, this time I was left off the hook, because then the board with the equation got retracted into the ceiling… and a new one appeared.

"What the hell…" I thought.

It was a logic puzzle. A progression puzzle, to be precise, where one had to find out how a series of numbers or figures would continue. I looked at it for a while, because, as it was to be expected, it too was not one of the easy sorts, since a series of complicated patterns had to be brought into order.

As I was confident that I got it, I used the instruments the drone was mounted with to enter the correct sequence.

I immediately realised that I had made a mistake as the room started to fill with smoke. I coughed.

Wait.

I was not able to cough.

I turned around to have a look at my body and found that it actually shook with coughs.

Lovely.

It seemed as if my body reacted to what I encountered here.

I had to hurry, it got worse. My eyes were tearing. My lungs felt like they were on fire. My nose was running.

Through tears, I looked at the puzzle again, and after another terrible minute or so, in which I felt like I had to suffocate once more, I realised my mistake and corrected it.

The grid lifted.

Swaying, I made my way to the button, as fast as I could. I found that controlling the drone got harder the more my senses got dimmed. It was all too possible that I would die here.

I refused. Not like this.

Fighting my way up to the button, I made one last push, my sheer determination kept me going for it. I pushed the button…

...and was back in my actual body. I tore the helmet off my head, and crouched on the floor, coughing and snorting, my eyes tearing like I had gotten capsaicine into them.

What the hell? How did it work? There was no danger to me in any way!

Breathing was so hard. Thinking too. Had I been poisoned? How had it happened?

Suddenly the realisation of what I was going through hit me.

Of course.

Psychosomatic reactions.

Somehow, I had still been linked to my body and it had reacted the way it should, by getting the smoke out of my lungs. But there was no real danger to it, no real smoke. Nonetheless, my mind had made it real.

This realisation helped me to get it together. A few minutes later, I breathed freely again, throat a bit sore from all the coughing, but I had not sustained any serious injury, from what I could tell. However, if I had not snapped out of it…

Stop thinking about it, you are wasting time.

Right.

I got to my feet, took a quick look around me, to see whether someone was following me.

Another catastrophe averted. I now understood that this path would not only test my intelligence, but also my willpower.

I dreaded what was yet to come.

He should have known better.

Vlokarion was shaking his head at his own stupidity for the thousandth time. It had not been wise to talk to Temira at the festivities. How unwise, he had found out shortly thereafter. Vect really had been annoyed by the fact. Apparently, he did not want their connection known in the slightest.

Oh well. What was done was done. But at least the backdoor link to Temira had warned him of the Overlord's severe reaction and allowed him to prepare for the repercussions he would have to deal with. Enough time to hide his most favourite toys, in case the Overlord decided to take some of them away. Ironically, it was the most effective way to really vex a Haemonculus.

Yes, listening in on the Overlord over Temira was certainly an advantage that was priceless. Also, he was dead-sure that Vect was none the wiser about it. It was not like he could use Temira against him, he had no control over her whatsoever, but he could, at least, keep an eye on the old tyrant.

Still, Vlokarion was proud of his newest work. The connection between Vect and Temira worked just as intended, and in some ways, even better. The way he could gently influence her thinking was ingenious. It made it possible for Vect to control her without her even realising that he did so.

Perfect subtlety.

A pleasant shiver ran down his spines.

It was his most favourite thing.

Also, experiencing the Carnival through Temira's eyes was delightful too and a very pleasant distraction from his usual tasks. She fought so hard, that little, unpredictable bird. And she suffered so much. It was so delicious, she was so delicious. Even though he could not directly feel what she felt, like the Overlord did, it was still lovely to see. He envied Vect for that.

Vlokarion tilted his head in an intrigued manner as she arrived at the first logic puzzle, which required the drone to solve. Now, where had he seen that design before? What was it, who had it been…

Then, he smiled.

"Ozias, it has been a while since I've seen something from you. Where have you been hiding, my little puppy?" he mumbled to himself in a gentle tone.

Ozias had been one of his students, one of the more promising ones. After his transformation into a full-fledged Haemonculus, he had left his service and Vlokarion had not heard or seen anything of him thereafter, assuming he had perished by someone else's hand.

But, apparently, that was not the case.

Did the Overlord have him as a retainer too? It would fit the old beast to pit him against his former student some day.

Vlokarion chuckled. He had to find out more. "If you want to take my place, you have to do better than that, my boy," he sniggered to himself. It had been a while since he had dispatched another one of his kind.

After he had dealt with Urien, humiliating him so much that he surely would need some centuries to recover from this embarrassment, things had grown… boring.

Vlokarion bared his fangs with a terrible grin.

How refreshing.

The game in the underspires of Commorragh was afoot once more!

After I had allowed myself some sips of water to get my sore throat under control, I moved onwards. Of course, breathing still hurt, but it was not so serious that it was dangerous. Even though I had to think a lot in the next few hours, I got a physical reprieve, which helped me with regenerating.

The puzzles I had to solve were challenging, but manageable. They were mostly about mathematical equations, logic puzzles and memory games. I now was happy that back in my time, I had always held a great love for puzzles and mathematics - at least most of it. Using these parts of my brain was still unusual, but I soon caught up with my knowledge and skill in those regards and mastered all those challenges without much problems.

I now got to understand that the first challenge with the drone had been there to dissuade anybody that did not have the required knowledge and mindset for this path. The following challenges had been harder to solve, but had been less painful if failed. Punishment had been momentarily extremely painful, but did not result in long-lasting wounds.

So far, there had been no indication whether any competitors had been here before me. Either they had all passed without any incident or I truly was the first one to arrive. It was impossible that I had missed or passed another competitor, because of the way the mind path was designed.

However, I found somebody else soon after that realisation.

I now came into another, small room. I gagged shortly as a terrible stench punched my nose. There was a corpse in here, and from the looks and smell of it, this competitor had died of a load of acid that had been dropped on them (it was no longer possible to determine the gender). There was no acidic steam left, for which I was grateful, but the smell of burnt flesh still hung in the air. I tried to calm my roiling stomach, and succeeded just so.

Alright, this would be another tricky and dangerous one. I had to be on my toes.

After I had gathered myself, I had a closer look around and spotted a keypad with eighteen blank keys on it. Beside the keypad was a plaque with some Low Gothic writing on it:

"The combination of keys for the teleporter is untouched by the sign of martial excellence of the arenas. You have three tries. The first one will hurt. The second one will maim. The last one will kill."

I immediately understood which sign the plaque was referring to, but still, it was a tricky one, designed to cause at least one mistake. The keys were arranged in three columns and six rows. If I imagined the sign of the Cult of Strife in the grid the keys were forming, there were two very distinct possibilities that could be correct. Three or four keys in the first column had to be pressed.

About one I was not sure.

I scoffed at the phrasing about the three tries. If the third one would kill me, then it was not really three tries I was having here. Then again, it could also mean that the means that would kill could be avoided. If the lethal step was having acid dropped onto my head, maybe it was avoidable. But if I was right, I should get away with a little bit of pain - or nothing at all.

It actually made me angry. It reminded me of some arcade games that I had played. It had been the same lie there, showing you one life you still had left, even though you were on your last one. It was so unfair!

Suddenly, I giggled.

"You dummy…" I sniggered. It was so irrelevant. Why did I think about it now?

Also, I realised after chuckling for a few seconds that I was wrong. I actually got three tries, the last mistake would just be a lethal one. It was perfectly fine the way it was phrased!

That made me giggle even harder. What the hell was wrong with me?

"You're losing it," I snorted with laughter. Maybe I was. But was it so strange?

Concentrate!

That sent me back into the here and now and this weird, overwrought joy passed.

"Thanks, rational thought," I commented dryly. I had no idea where this imperative rationality came from, but it surely had helped me through some tough times so far.

I sighed, heart beating nervously, then hissed, "Here goes nothing…" and pressed four buttons in the first column of the keypad, leaving out the second and the third…

...and cried out in pain as an electric shock hit me, originating from the keypad.

I tumbled backwards a few steps, my heart painfully catching its beat again. I sunk to my knees and panted, only slowly recovering from this nasty pain that had just been inflicted on me.

"Ouch," I snarled, more angry than in pain, and shook my hand. The last days had toughened me up in terms of pain-tolerance, even more so than my time in training had. I had not thought it possible, but apparently, there was a lot of resistance left in my body. My fingers were still numb and needed a lot of movement and massaging to come back to life again. "Three keys it is then," I murmured and pressed three keys in the first column, this time leaving the second, third and fourth out.

I sighed in relief as the teleporter platform beside me started to glow. It seemed as if I had gotten away with just a minor reprimand.

Tensing up again, I drew my daggers before I stepped onto the platform. There was no telling where it would take me and I expected a fight when I arrived on the other side. Then, I stepped onto the platform.

I had never been teleported before. And in this split-second I hoped that it would be the last time. It was anything but a pleasant experience. It felt like my whole body got electrified again and I closed my eyes as everything became terribly bright and then dark around me. A short, zap-like sound, and I felt floor beneath my feet again after this baleful split-second. With that feeling, terrible dizziness and nausea set in. I tumbled forwards, barely noticing my surroundings and with sheer willpower I forced myself to fall behind something that looked like cover, before I collapsed and fought with all my might against throwing up again.

I only very barely won.

Panting and swallowing down bile for the millionth time since I was in the competition, I crouched on the floor, fighting for my senses. If someone came after me now, I was done for.

After seconds, which felt like years for me, I got a hold of myself again, grabbed my daggers tightly again and then had a look around.

I was on another square, squatting behind a block of debris.

But it was not just any square.

What I saw made me gasp in disbelief.

In front of me was a small dome made out of metal, which had a glass door that led into it. Through this glass door I could see a glowing sphere inside the dome.

This was it!

This was the room in which the prize was in!

I was first!

Then, I strained my eyes and looked closer at the door.

"No, goddamnit, no!" I pressed forward between clenched teeth. I wanted to howl it out and start to cry.

I had a big problem right there.

By now, Lisbeth was not sure anymore if Temira would come back. Time and again, the Overlord had shown her images of her friend failing, injuries she sustained, horrors she endured. And even if she came back, how much would be left of her?

So far, Lisbeth had never thought about it, because Temira had always been the strong one, the one that always had faced her problems in a determined way. The fact that she had lost little of herself when she had first seen her around here, spoke volumes of her willpower, especially because Lisbeth now was in her position, and did not fare well at all. Temira had always been the special one of them.

But now, being confronted with the fact that what may come back from the Carnival would only be a husk, the friend she loved and knew gone, broke something in her that had been whole so far.

Lisbeth no longer knew right from wrong. True from false. Truth from lies. All she knew was that the Overlord knew everything and she knew nothing. Everything was twisted, reality a crooked thing the Overlord dictated for her. Did anything really matter at all?

Because of her pondering she had not been paying attention to what she was doing. Or was it the sleep-deprivation that did it to her? Did it matter?

Fact was that she was staring into her own face in the mirror, in the not-so-pleasant quarters.

Mirror.

No.

The horror-screen.

Lisbeth tried to tear her eyes away, but it was too late.

"No, no, no… not again… please…" she whispered, unable to move, as she saw the Overlord stepping into the bathroom, clad in dark robes, holding a blood-covered dagger in his right hand.

However, he was not alone. In his left hand, he had grabbed a bunch of hair, and from its colour Lisbeth knew that it was Temira before she looked at the hunched, kneeling figure beside him. Lisbeth wanted nothing more but to look away, but her gaze fell upon Temira… or what was left of her. Her body was littered with scars that would never heal, severe injuries that had barely closed, Lisbeth knew how she had gotten all of them, and a lot of fresh cuts, the blood billowing from them drawing grotesque patterns onto her skin.

"Have I not told you that she would take the fall for her failings?" Vect said to her.

Temira was silent, breathing heavily, fear flickering in her eyes.

"Y… yes, Overlord," Lisbeth replied.

"So, do you still think that I care for her?" the Overlord asked patiently, yet with a dangerous tone in his voice.

"No, Overlord," she said.

"Good. Finally, that lesson sunk in. Do you remember what else I told you?" The cruel edge was unmistakable.

Lisbeth started to frantically shake her head. "Please… please… don't… Overl..." Lisbeth broke off with a gasp and froze completely, as the Overlord made his threat reality, as he pinned Temira against the next wall and started flaying her. Lisbeth tried to look away, get her hands in front of her face, break down, anything, but her whole body was completely frozen in terror. Temira's screams echoed in the tiled room, as the Overlord skinned her alive, cutting off her fingers, digit by digit, dismembering her arms and legs, muscle by muscle, bathing in her blood.

However, the true horror for Lisbeth was that Temira was pleading for help. Her help. And she could not move. Lord forgave her, she could not move…

Lisbeth did not know how long she stood there and watched, as the Overlord completely dismantled Temira, without letting her faint. Finally, as there was not much left of her, the Overlord dealt the killing blow, cutting her open from her abdomen to her throat, what was left of her blood rained onto him, and the Overlord buried his face in her sliced throat and drank what came out.

At this point, Lisbeth had tried to throw up several times, but nothing had come out, as she had not eaten in days. Tears were running down her face, her hands had buried themselves so fiercely into the washstand that she had crushed her fingernails and small rivers of blood were tainting the marble wash basin. Lisbeth did not feel the pain, she was locked in utter, true terror.

Then, the Overlord stopped, let go of the lifeless, bloody mess that was left of Temira, just let it drop to the floor like a piece of trash and wiped his face with one of his sleeves, but just managed to smudge the red mess on his face even more. The Overlord came slowly towards her, reaching for her, and in this very moment, it was too much for Lisbeth. She closed her eyes, hurled around, to knock away his hand, and frantically sobbing, she collapsed on the floor, expecting to feel his hand in her hair. Those hands that just had killed her very last reason to live…

As she did not feel the sensation she anticipated, she slowly opened her eyes… and gasped again.

She was alone.

There was no Overlord with her and no dead Temira.

Lisbeth flung her hands in front of her mouth and nose, hyperventilating, slightly rocking back and forth.

It all had been a hallucination. It had not been real.

"It's not real… it's not real…" she was stammering, as she tried to somehow recover from what she just had seen, fake or not.

Lisbeth squealed as an all too familiar voice said, "Now, that certainly was fascinating to watch."

She looked up and saw the Overlord, who, as she now remembered with a heavily beating heart, had been with her after all. Somehow she had blanked his presence out. Of course. The Overlord had been bathing. She had cleaned the mirror. That was the here and now!

Uncaring and cruel as the Overlord was, the Overlord was still in the bathtub, lounging on the rim, eyeing her with a small, vile smile. As she did not react to the Overlord, still locked in the horror of her vision, the smile faded. The Overlord got out of the tub, wrapped himself in a towel and came to her, engulfed in an aura of warmth from the water.

The Overlord crouched in front of her and reached for her face. Lisbeth ducked away, but, of course, the Overlord did not care, because the Overlord grabbed her chin and while the Overlord made her look into his pitch-black eyes, the Overlord asked softly, "What did you see?"

Lisbeth was shaking all over, teeth clattering, her mind and body still in shock. She could not answer, for the life of her.

To her unending surprise, the Overlord waited and gave her time. After a while, without loosening his grip, the Overlord asked again, "What did you see?"

Lisbeth pushed herself to get out anything, and stammered, "Y…y…you… k..k...ki...killed… h...her…" She took a desperate breath. "A...an...and a...as y...you s...s...said, y….you m..m...made m...me w...w...watch…"

The Overlord frowned. "You saw how I killed Temira? That certainly explains the reactions..."

Lisbeth nodded what little space the Overlord let her have.

"And I told you at some point in the past that I would do this and that you would have to watch?" the Overlord questioned her further.

Lisbeth nodded again, eyes wide, heartbeat and breathing still panicked.

The Overlord scoffed. "You are not making any sense, slave girl."
"W...what?" she gave back.

"As I have an eidetic memory, I can tell you that I never promised you such a thing. What good would it do to kill Temira if she comes back to me? She is a good slave, it would be a waste to end her. Silly girl," the Overlord said and patted her cheek, letting go of her chin. Then, the Overlord drew back and got up and back into the bathtub again.

With a chuckle, the Overlord said, "Then again, at least I now know why you are so scared of mirrors. Very well. Carry on! I shall omit your punishment for failing to use my title this time, as I see that you are indeed not in your right mind."

Lisbeth wanted to scream, but was too frozen to do anything but recover. Even the Overlord, who certainly had a very broad view on insanity, had now just told her that she was losing it. A Dark Eldar had told her that she was losing it. Had she really imagined that? Or was the Overlord just lying to make her think she had?

She could not tell anymore.

SHE COULD NOT TELL ANYMORE!

"For fuck's sake…" I continued cussing in a whispered tone.

I now knew what the tattoos had been for. There were five slots embedded in the door and all were fitted with dermal scanners, a thing, all of the competitors knew, as we had covered them in survival training. Beside them, another plaque, which said:

"Passage to the final Challenge"

It was written in both Low Gothic and Drukhari runes, so the meaning would be understandable even for those that were not able to read the Drukhari runes. Since I had read all those words on the shoulders of my fallen enemies, I now knew that it had been expected that I collected those patches of skin, to put them in those slots. Remembering the runes, as I had thought, had not been enough.

So fucking stupid. I should have known that it would be as gruesome as this!

I could have just walked in there and won this. But not like this. I was dead-sure that there was no other way in there. Besides…

Someone was coming. The teleporter activated behind me.

I ducked deeper into the shadows and breathed flatly. With a slight feeling of malicious glee I saw that the one that had come after me did not handle the effects of the teleporter much better than me. When he had regained his composure and sneaked towards the door, I recognised him.

Aszukh.

I was not surprised.

He was a ruthless, intelligent snake. It only fitted that he would come down the mind-path. He drew back into the shadows again, rummaging in his backpack. Again, it did not surprise me that he had indeed thought about taking the skin patches with him. And if all went well, he would open this door for me.

I watched him closely as he placed the patches, gripping my daggers more tightly. It soon would be over. Just this last kill I had to succeed in, and it would be over.

As Aszukh had placed the patches, the scanners came to life with blue lights and whirring sounds. It only took seconds until they stopped and the door opened with a hissing sound.

I coiled up to jump as Aszukh hurried inside.

I had gotten halfway up, as suddenly heavy steps came from my right side. I heard heavy breathing and with a roar, Titus dashed past me, into the dome and tackled Aszukh so hard that he got flung against the wall of the dome. I was sure he had only missed me because he was so loud himself. Lucky me.

I ducked again.

In the same second, the teleporter activated again and Rogal tumbled out of it. He seemed to realise the situation immediately and handled the backlash amazingly well, because he started running towards the dome.

Shit.

"And, lastly, if I were you, I would make sure that I am the first one to reach the prize, and if not, I would not let it be taken out of the room it is in by anyone else than me."

I had not forgotten what my master had told me. I would not let them take the prize out of this dome by any means. Still, there were too many of them. I had to wait and see how the situation unfolded, if leaving Titus alive would play out the way I had anticipated it.

In the meantime, Titus had reached the glowing orb. He grabbed it and with a hiss, the crystal ball opened. I could not see what was inside. But what I saw all too well, was that Titus started shaking.

Uncontrollable rage.

Good.

Wait a bit longer.

It took all my willpower and patience, but I had to wait. Again, I instinctively knew it.

"NO!" he cried out and smashed the ball onto the ground. It did not break, but bounced once and then rolled slowly to the side.

"IT HAS ALL BEEN FOR NAUGHT!" he continued screaming.

Rogal had halted, his weapon beside him, and said, "What?"

"They have lied. It's just a hoax. Just a mocking message inside," Titus said with a trembling voice. He looked like he was about to cry or vomit.

"Told ya," I thought with a triumphant smile.

Rogal shrugged, gripping his weapon tighter. "Doesn't matter. I'd rather win this than not."

"You fool! Don't you see that this won't change anything?" Titus roared.

A hoarse laughter came from the side of the dome I could not see. "There might not be what they said inside, you fool, but winning still will bring you favour. You don't get it, do you? There is no getting out of here, but there is still something like quality of life improvements," Aszukh said, who now slowly stepped into my line of view. Titus had battered him pretty hard, judging from the way he swayed.

"Care to take on this idiot together?" Rogal offered. I knew that Rogal was not much of a fighter. It made sense that he teamed up with Aszukh against Titus.

Aszukh shrugged. "Might as well. I hate those guard types anyways."

"I agree," Rogal concurred.

"Very well, you madmen! I shall strike you down!" Titus shouted and assumed a defensive stance.

So far, so good. Temira is a bit of a badass. Don't worry, she won't become a terrible Mary-Sue character. I still hope that you liked it so far.

As I said, I shall post the rest of the chapter in a separate chapter and then merge them after the main reader flood has died down.

As always, I appreciate reviews or comments of all kinds! Public or per PM, I don't mind!

Stay safe and healthy!