~Content Warning: Violence, graphic descriptions of injuries~
As Witnessed by the Divine
"You dare!"
The Otoroshi snarls in rage, forgoing the usual step of waiting for the thief to attempt to leave with their prize, and launches itself from its perch atop the gate.
[Command issued: Protect]
A glint of light appears between the monster and Argon, and somehow the Great Monarch appears to block the attack. Its movements are stiff and jerking, as if it's fighting its own body. Grabbing hold of the Otoroshi, the large monster is allowed to continue with its momentum before being swung around and tossed haphazardly towards its gate.
The gate, a Blazesteel affair meant to hold the nearly one ton (~2204 lbs~) weight of the Otoroshi as well as being able to withstand any humanoid attempt at destroying it buckles and dents from the impact. The Otoroshi twists and convulses on the ground, its hip and neck having sustained severe injuries from being flung with such force.
"What's going on here?!" A passing guard, alerted by the tremor of the Otoroshi hitting the gate shouts in alarm. "W-what-?" Is all he's able to mutter as he takes in the scene unfolding within the Treasury.
Ant, Wasp and Stag run over to Argon, who is cackling with delight. "All that, with just a though!" His face contorts into a sadistic grimace. "Let's show uncle what we found." He giggles, the power of the Control Diadem having gone straight to his head.
[Command issued: Transport]
The four men feel a tug at something, just behind where their hearts are, and a blinding flash of light. When they next can see, they're in the throne room. Shouts of alarm, the clatter of armor and weapons, crashing of glassware, chaos.
"Argon! What are you doing?!" Dervix shouts in a panic, his face becoming pale as ash once he recognizes the item his nephew is wearing. "No- NO!" He cries, sadness? Anger? Anguish? Perhaps all three.
"Now, now, uncle, there's no need to raise your voice like that. Actvi, don't think I don't see you. If you value your life, you'll stay still." Argon glances at the Ayvin, a cold indifference in his eyes. Only out of consideration for Stag, of course. He's quite the fan.
Actvi gives a frustrated grunt before stopping his creeping flank of the group. "Millibelle! Come on! You can fight it!" Dervix desperately shouts. The Monarch stiffens for just a moment before returning to its unnerving twitching motions.
"Now, now, uncle, you know as well as I that it can't break free. Why would they design an item such as this in a way where there was a chance of it failing?" Argon tuts.
The doors to the throne room bursts open, revealing a gathering of guards, among them the two that were guarding the Treasury. "Milord!" They shout, readying their swords and crossbows.
[Sustain Command: Protect]
A violent gust of air is whipped up as the Monarch flaps its wings towards the guards, knocking them off balance and into a wall.
She seems to be trying to keep damage to a minimum unless directly ordered, thinks Dervix. He hopes Argon will be content with her knocking them around instead of killing them, though.
With Argon and, as a consequence, the Monarch, distracted, the King quickly grabs the Tear of Ashala before kicking the throne to reveal the escape tunnel. Before anyone is able to react, the King's run off.
"After him! Don't let him escape!" Argon yells for his cronies, Ant, Wasp and Stag to give chase.
"Why don't you just send the Monarch?" Asks Wasp, annoyed at being ordered around like this.
"You fool, with the Monarch chasing the King, who's going to keep people from trying to kill me?" Argon chides, backed up by the Monarch giving an ominous growl. The trio realize a bit too late that they no longer have any say in what happens next. Everything will be on Argons terms. Reluctantly, they enter the tunnel.
"Your Majesty, this way!" Dervix flinches as an unfamiliar voice beckons for him in the dark. "Hurry, there isn't much time." The voice urges. As the King enters a side-passage, leading towards the residential area of the castle, he is pulled towards the wall by a firm hand.
"Look into my eyes." A human man, who Dervix now recognizes as High-Elite Vasper, commands. Unable to get away due to the mans abnormal strength, and being frankly too shaken to resist, Dervix obeys.
A shiver runs through the Kings body as his mind is forcefully melded with that of the Monarch. Fear and despair overtakes his mind, this is it.
"You incredible fool. I have never had the displeasure of ever meeting a bigger, more shortsighted idiot."
A familiar voice... But not quite. There's something off, something... lesser about this voice. But he knows the owner nevertheless. It echoes in his head, seeming to shake in barely contained rage. Vasper keeps a stoic expression, trying to ignore the fact that he too can hear the verbal abuse directed at the King.
"Because of you, seven men are now dead. Actvi is barely hanging on."
The words cut deep, hot searing pain through his mind. He falls to his knees, the realization that his actions have led to this being almost too much to bear. "How do I fix this?" Is all he can think.
"Confront the three that are following you. Lock eyes with them, and I'll handle the rest."
The disgraced King kneels, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. The will to keep going is almost lost. If he loses Actvi... If Argon can't be stopped...
"Focus. I can't make you do anything at the moment, I can only instruct. Lock eyes with them."
Footsteps in the distance, hurried. Dervix looks around, but Vasper has left. Gone to be with Seul, who is also hiding down in the tunnels. He doesn't remember telling Millibelle about the tunnels, but from the cursory knowledge being fused with her mind has granted him, if there are written records about something, she knows of it.
"There he is. Given up?" Ant, his voice mocking, walks up to the kneeling King, dagger in hand. As he grabs Dervixs head to force him to look at them, the King suddenly locks eyes with Ant, then Stag. Both nobles recoil as their minds are forced open and the malevolent mind of the Monarch worms its way in.
"H-Hey, guys? What's going on?" Wasp nervously approaches his now blank-eyed 'friends'. Dervix retreats slightly, scooting out of the way of the coming spectacle.
"Look what I didn't do to you, even if you deserve it a thousand times over."
The voice of the Monarch is cold. The seething hate and rage has turned into a cold, calculated anger. Dervix wishes she had kept berating him instead. This is ten times worse.
Ant is the first to snap out of it. His mouth is slightly open, a dribble of saliva working its way down his chin. His normally alert eyes are glazed over, unfocused. He lurches towards Wasp with a guttural groan, barely recognizable as human speech.
"H-el- m-e" He raises his dagger, his knuckles white from gripping the hilt so tightly as he shambles towards a frightened Wasp. Stag follows suit, though he is unarmed- instead reaching his arms out towards his former 'friend'.
"T-this isn't funny! Knock it off! We're meant to get the Tear of Ashala back, not goof off!" Wasp desperately tries to back away from Ant and Stag, only to trip on a slightly raised tile in the floor and falling on his ass.
"No- NO!" Dervix turns away, not wanting to see what happens next. He tried reaching his own mind out to Ant and Stag, if only as a test of his own powers when sharing a mind with the Monarch. There was nothing there. As if taking one too many steps whilst climbing a staircase and feeling the instinctive surge of adrenaline when your foot doesn't stop where you thought it would. Gone. Completely destroyed.
Wasp is soon unable to shout anymore, his neck like a second maw, vomiting blood. A desperate gargle is all that's heard as life slowly ebbs from his body.
"Shame. Seems being trained in Suggestion let him withstand me at current strength. Whatever. Stay here. I'll see what I can do with these two."
Dervix curls up into a ball on the floor, ignoring the dust and grime staining his clothes as well as the slightly damp coldness of the stone floor. He feels the Monarchs attention leave him. He's still bonded to her. There's no escaping her wrath. The only reason he isn't like those two at the moment, is because she still has use for him. He realizes that now.
Dervix curses himself. Ever since he learnt of the Monarch, he's been plotting of how to best take advantage of her. In response, she's only ever acted in good faith with him. And now... He knows he cannot stay on the throne after this. His only hope, should he survive this ordeal, is that the Monarch allows him to rule until his chosen successor, Maybel, comes of age.
One year. Yes, he needs to convince her. There's so much at stake at the moment, changing rulers at this point in time would be disastrous.
Ant and Stag emerge from the throne tunnel, coated in a layer of blood- generously donated by Wasp.
"H-Hey, where's Wasp? Where's the King? What happened?!" Argon looks up from the bound Actvi. Who would have thought the Monarch capable of healing so completely? He quickly smooths his top so as to try to hide his excitement.
[Error - Unable]
The Control Diadem gets noticeably hot as he accidentally locks eyes with Stag. The Monarch next to him tenses, momentarily stopping her spasming motions before resuming again. Both Ant and Stag let out a frustrated groan, shambling forwards.
"What's wrong with you? Answer me!" Argon is getting upset. A growing megalomania has taken hold of him since donning the Diadem, increasing his aggression and decreasing his tolerance of others.
[Error - Control Diadem blocked Control Target, direct control cannot be established at this time]
Once again, the Diadem grows hot.
"Ah, there we go."
Argon freezes. In his mind, there's something else besides him. A cold voice echoes, he can feel the hate it has for him.
"Let's see... How about if I do this?"
[Error - Control Diadem blocked Control Target, direct control cannot be established at this time]
A dizzy spell overcomes Argon as his vision swims for a moment. Nausea overwhelms him, but quickly subsides.
"Oho, so I can do this, but nothing with voluntary muscle control? How odd. Whatever."
"So, dear despot, are you ready for your life to become a living hell?"
Argon shivers. He can feel the sadistic smile the voice emulates. This is something it has been looking forward to for a while.
"You see, my better half would never allow me to unleash my full potential upon the World. Unfortunately for you, she's give the okay for me to do with you as I wish in the pursuit of you getting that damnable thing off your head."
The walls are melting. Ant and Stag's faces are hollowed out, their eyes filled with worms.
"Wh-What's happening to me?!" Argon staggers backwards, his breathing shallow and quick as panic sets in. His skin itches, it feels like there's uncountable little things crawling beneath it.
"I'm giving you what's called a 'bad trip'. It's incredible what the human brain can conjure up that isn't there, isn't it? Oh, and try to stay conscious? Because your 'friends' are very ready to remove your head once you're incapacitated."
"N-nonsense. The Monarch would protect me." Argon warily glances around the room, the movement making him nauseous. Everything spins, he scratches at his skin- trying to convince himself that the squirming sensation isn't innumerable worms just beneath his dermis.
"She wouldn't. The Control Diadem has one weakness. If the wearer goes unconscious, either through applied force or when simply sleeping, the Diadem stops working. It is merely the granter of an Unique Skill, it requires a waking mind to use it."
Argon's throat is dry, he tries desperately to summon some saliva to swallow, but none comes. Movement at the throne catches his attention. Is it Wasp? Here to help him break free of whatever the Monarch has done to him?
"I suppose I should let you know. In my old World- before I reincarnated here- they did some experiments to see how long a human can last without sleep."
A diffuse, shadow-like silhouette emerges from the tunnel. It looks like Wasp's?
"After four days, one requires painful stimuli to keep from passing out. The observed maximum was twelve days, at which point even painful electric shocks were ignored by the body in favor of sleep."
"Why are you telling me this?!" Argon yells, fixated on the approaching figure. He hasn't noticed how his nails are dripping with blood now, having scratched his lower arm raw.
"I'm wondering... How long can the humans of this World stay awake for? We should find out, unless you want me to stop- you just have to remove the Control Diadem from your head."
"Never! You'll just kill me if I do!" The shadow is coming into focus now. It's Wasp, or, what's left of him. Half his face is missing, his head moving oddly with each step he takes, as if the muscles meant to hold it steady have been damaged.
"I promise I wont. If anything, removing the Diadem now and letting me put you out of your misery is a much better prospect than me torturing you for the next foreseeable future until you either off yourself or fall unconscious. But I'll let you live. After all, you're guilty of seven murders and the torture of a high-standing official."
Wasp reaches out to Argon, a ragged hiss escaping his mangled neck, blood bubbling and foaming around his perforated trachea. Just as the walking corpse is about to touch Argon, it falls apart into a pile of blood and worms. Writhing, slithering.
"I'll just turn you over to the people of Parshura, and see what fate they'll prescribe to a mass murdering madman like you. That is, if you willingly remove the Control Diadem. If you refuse, I'll do my very best to induce a panic so deep your mind shuts off, and you'll fall unconscious."
The pool of blood expands, lapping at the feet of Ant and Stag, who seem to take no notice of the pulsing mass of worms making their way up their legs.
"Then, I'll take my sweet time. You know, I can revive the dead? I'll make you my servant. And whenever I feel like taking out some anger, I'll pick you piece from piece, savoring every scream you make. And when you die, I can just make you a new body! Isn't that lovely? An eternity of torture? Monsters do not die of old age, you know, and my hate is eternal."
The nausea returns, it's too much. Argon vomits, his addled mind making the reflux turn into a writhing maggot. He hesitantly raises blood-soaked hands to his temples. Is this how it ends? Either he puts his fate in the hands of the one being in the World that despises his very Soul, or he loses his mind before his life.
"It's your choice."
Argon takes a firm grip around the Diadem, ignoring how the metal sears his palms, or how his heat-damaged skin slouches off his scalp as he pulls the Diadem off his head. Well, not so much ignore, as unable to feel. He's unable to smell the singed hair, has been for a while now.
With determination, Argon throws the Control Diadem onto the floor, noticing how it seems to clatter when it should have gotten stuck in the oozing mass of blood and worms that are now covering the entire throne-room floor.
[Control Terminated]