The scenery passed in a strange indistinguishable blur to her. Between the pain, a strange drowsiness and sickness brought about by being carried like a sack of potato, she wasn't entirely sure about what was going on. Day and night, she was carried without stop. She may have considered resisting, but she just felt dazed and simply couldn't get a grasp on reality. Many days might have passed, but how could she judge that or have any kind of surety? Neither her nor the person carrying her had stopped to eat or do anything, so it was preposterous to think that days had passed. It was just that her grasp on reality was weak, she needed to somehow take it back.

She realized that as she tried to detach herself from the situation, she was able to gain a minimal amount of clarity. It wasn't just a ridiculous thought, she tried her best to just keep track of the time by paying attention to how clear or dark her surroundings were. Days were passing her by, but she didn't feel uncomfortable at all, she didn't feel the need to eat or do anything else, she was just so numb...

Feeling slightly bored, she tried paying some attention to the person who was carrying her body. Who was this person? What was that person thinking? She would really like to ask that person. Oh, that was slightly foolish, how could she communicate with someone without saying anything? And her body was presently unable to really talk in any way, so how could she really ask anything? That had been an obvious truth, or so she thought, but deeper inside her mind she thought it obvious to communicate without words, gestures or expressions. She concentrated, or at least tried to, and paid attention, she was interested, she felt interested. She really wanted to know about that woman who was carrying her. Wait, how did she know it was a woman? She just sort of knew now. How strange.

She felt that she had achieved some sort of success, although in what she wasn't sure. She kept trying to connect, to understand the woman. After an eternity of trying, a single thought flooded her mind: I'm sorry. Anything else? I'm sorry. Was that all the woman was thinking about? I'm sorry. For some reason she felt annoyed by that, so she took her attention away from the woman carrying her. Who was she apologizing to? It didn't make any sense. Was it to her? She didn't remember that woman doing anything that needed apologizing. But then again, she didn't really remember anything at all. Even when she put some effort into it, her memories were as muddled and foggy as her present state. So maybe apologies were in order.

For what? She needed to know, if someone was apologizing to her, then it could only mean that something bad had been done to her. She needed to know about it, but every time she connected with the woman carrying her, she only ever got one answer: I'm sorry. It irritated her. She didn't want apologies, she needed more information about her predicament. She thought and thought about it, after all, thinking was the only thing she could sort of do. After a while, she tried not just paying attention she tried to focus her thoughts and send them to that other woman. She tried, and tried, until eventually she felt something similar to the connection she had before. What are you apologizing for? She instinctively knew that she had sent her thoughts to the other woman, something had passed between them, if not words, at least the feeling, the idea of the inquiry. Then, without needing any kind of effort, she received an answer You don't want to know. No, no, no. That was wrong, most definitely wrong. She wanted to know, she needed to know, if something bad was going on, then she most definitely needed and wanted to know. However, much as she tried, she couldn't get another answer. She wondered when they would stop.

Then she was thrown on the ground. She didn't expect that. What was going on? Then, like an unstoppable torrent, it all came back to her, like her mind had returned from a long voyage. Her head hurt like crazy.

“I'm sorry, figures she would want you aware.”

Sitting on the ground, still slightly dazed, Chelsea Williams looked up at Delilah, then around her. Where was she? Huge grass plains stretched around her with no sign of human civilization, except one thing. Relatively far from them, Chelsea could clearly see some kind of building. A pyramid? Not exactly, although it had a pyramid feel to it.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Chelsea discovered she could speak once again. She thought she had tried to sound brave, but the weakness and fear was clear in her voice. Delilah had taken her away for some reason. Was she actually with the Infected? Had they all been tricked?

“Me? I'm not going to do anything, I've already done my part. She wants you to walk the rest of the way.”

Chelsea wanted to ask where, but she actually knew. It wasn't simply that the pyramid-like building was the only thing around them. She felt it, and she knew Delilah knew she did. She had to go there, there was no other choice, but she didn't want to. She didn't exactly know what would happen to her once she went inside, but she didn't want to. Now she knew what Delilah meant, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to be aware. So she tried denying reality.

“What if I just sit here forever? Nothing is stopping me from doing that.”

But she already knew that was useless. It was like a strong instinct or curiosity had taken her over. She wasn't forced to do anything, but she just couldn't do anything else, it was like she had been gripped by a fear, even if she wanted, she couldn't do anything else. She wanted so much to just run away from that place, but she couldn't do it.

“She will break you eventually, she always does.”

Chelsea didn't need to be told that. She tried focusing on something else, but it was like everything else was boring, too boring. Only that pyramid-like building mattered. Nothing else did. She had to go, she had to walk. Before she realized it, she was standing up. Even though she was so afraid, her legs started carrying her towards it. No. She was terrified. She knew that something that could swallow her whole being awaited inside, but she couldn't stop her own legs. She turned her face towards Delilah, who walked next to her, and pleaded with tears in her face.

“Please, save me.”

Delilah turned away from her, not without first showing a glimpse of a profoundly bitter expression.

“I'm sorry, not even the gods can save you now.”

She already knew it even before she had let out her own plea for help. Closer and closer the two of them walked. The building was so huge that just its entrance towered above them as they approached it. She didn't really want to know, but found herself strangely fascinated as she became able to discern details. She had realized that the building was mostly white, but now she could see exactly why: It was mostly made out of bones. She tried her best, as she entered it, to not think of how it must have been built. The inside was oppressive in its size. She had never seen the inside of the Holy Flame's great temples in Byzanta, but somehow she knew that they would be easily dwarfed by this place she was now inside of.

How could she describe it? Austere? Sterile? Walls of bones. Pillars of bones. Chandeliers of bones. Besides this constant “motif” there were no decorations to speak of. At least the floor was made of some kind of stone. There was also nobody there, Infected or otherwise. Chelsea didn't see any need in commenting about these things, so they walked on in silence. Some time passed as they walked, then they stopped in front of a huge set of doors. Being made of wood, they clashed immensely with all the surrounding bone, but perhaps that was the point. She knew what, who was on the other side. She didn't want any confirmation, and yet her hands found themselves turning the knob and opening those doors. She would rather do anything else, but she couldn't not do it.

The doors opened to a relatively smaller room, some sort of sanctum. Chelsea's eyes were first attracted by the throne on an elevated point at the other side of the room. As everything else, it was made of bones, but curiously showed a much greater degree of craftsmanship compared to everything else. Of course, sitting upon it Chelsea could see her tormentor. Smiling down at her, Matriarch Wu sat lazily. In her hands was a dress of the same design Chelsea saw Delilah wearing all the time. She was certain that it would be a perfect fit for her.

“Welcome, to my favorite place in the entire world. I see my Delilah has taken very good care of you, I hope the trip wasn't excessively uncomfortable, after all, it's you last opportunity for that.”

She then briefly turned her attention to Delilah, who immediately became expressionless. Chelsea felt like she heard a strange echo. Take your place among the others. She then realized that on each side of the room there were three smaller thrones, making six in total. Four were already occupied by girls who were as still as dolls. Chelsea recognized one of them as the one who tried to take prince Charles as he was dying. Delilah sat closest to the Matriarch, on her left. The closest one to the Matriarch's right was still vacant.

“What's the meaning of all this?”

She asked aloud. She actually already knew the answer to her question, but still asked it. She knew the Matriarch would indulge her, after all...

“I do actually enjoy talking with people. I'm flattered you actually remembered that.” Chelsea wasn't sure whether she should be shocked at the fact that the Matriarch knew what she was thinking. “That's a trait I really like in my Maidens. Still, that's a pretty vague question, you know? You could be asking about anything. This place, your situation.”

It wasn't like she could run away anyway. Chelsea calmly entered the room and closed the doors behind her. She was vaguely impressed at how free it seemed she was when she didn't try to do anything against the Matriarch's will. It was also deeply disturbing.

“Well, maybe I am asking about all of those different things.”

She was also surprised at how calm she felt. Was this how it felt like to be in a truly hopeless situation? She knew that there was no way she could escape, she couldn't even really struggle with her body. She wasn't even sure her mind was still completely hers. It felt like it wasn't. So she tried at least to retain some dignity and not look too desperate.

“That's really cute, you know. Faking and all that. But you know what, I'm thinking now that maybe I actually ended up better off taking you. In your position, I'm sure that girl would be crying and begging constantly, while you just asked once!”

That girl? Oh, she must mean Lia. Lia, Chelsea's liege, who surrendered her soul to the Matriarch for a few more years of “independence”. Chelsea didn't know how, but she remembered clear as day the conversation that had happened between the Matriarch and Lia. She also knew that the only reason that she, Chelsea, was standing in front of the Matriarch was because Lia cheated and got herself killed on purpose. Still, Chelsea couldn't blame her, couldn't hate her. Chelsea's own horrific experiences so far made her able to understand how anyone might do absolutely anything to avoid such a fate. Lia had always been more fragile than she appeared.

“I can't help how my heart feels. But I can at least make sure it doesn't completely rule me. That's after all what makes me human.”

She emphasized that last word. She wasn't sure where she was going with this, but it just felt right to affirm her own humanity. The Matriarch seemed slightly amused by that.

“What makes you human, huh. You seem to value your humanity quite highly.” Wu stood, raising her hands up as if praising something. “Of course you do! Who stands atop humanity? Nobody!” She descended one step in front of her throne. “Some might claim that gods are above humans, but what have gods ever done in this world that was not done through humans? God has said that this or that must be done!” She pointed in this or that direction, mocking righteous religious people. “How ridiculous. Are gods a bunch of lazy fucks unable to do anything? It seems like everyone's sky daddy needs people to actually administer any real punishment. However, nobody has ever been able to punish me in the name of their sky daddy.” She descended another step looking pensive. “I wonder, does that mean I am greater than all of their gods? How curious...” She pointed all around her. “Look! Look! Pay attention to this grand monument to depravity, decay and defilement! How many people do you think were sacrificed to build this? Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Millions perhaps? More? I've long lost count. And yet, even though I have become the very essence of all that humans fear and despise...” Before Chelsea realized, Wu was next to her and pressed a finger against her chest. “inside themselves. Here I stand, unpunished.” She looked majestic.

A strange haze started coming over Chelsea. Was she getting confused? Or did she see things clearer than she ever could before?

“What do you mean?”

A meaningless question. She already knew it, but still had to listen to the answer. The truth. The inescapable truth, or so it seemed to her.

“What am I but a human? A collection of humans even! Do I sound so different than anyone else?”

All the Heir Maidens were now standing up. Before Chelsea realized it, they were doing a strange sort movement as they spoke, as if they were a single person. Was it a dance? Not quite.

“Do I do much worse than anyone else would with such an intoxicating and overwhelming power?”

An Heir Maiden Chelsea had never seen before caressed her cheek as she asked softly. She could not say, she did not know the extent of it.

“Would anyone else maintain a fraction of the sanity I have when confronted with the pain and torment I have?”

Another Heir Maiden asked pleadingly. Chelsea felt pity, but had no idea how such a burden could be made lighter.

“Nobody saved me as I drowned in urges and instincts! I braved that stormy sea and emerged alive!”

A third Heir maiden shouted angrily in Chelsea's face. She flinched, feeling the boiling rage.

“I am the loneliest, and yet I can never have a single moment to myself.”

A fourth Heir maiden commented in sadness. Chelsea extended her hand, but recoiled, the girl seemed so unreachable.

“Unlike you, the only certainty I have is my lack of any real free will. Locked in this cage, I am unable to even escape life.”

Delilah cried as she hugged Chelsea. She suddenly understood the Matriarch's soul to the very core, and for a small instant, in spite of everything else, all the horrors, all the suffering, she empathized with her.

She was now lying on an altar in the middle of the room. Wu sat on top of her.

“Yes, that's good. After all, I am human. Or am I? Are you? How many parts do we substitute before you stop being you? How many more until you are no longer human?” She grabbed one of Chelsea's thumbs. “How about we take this off?” Wu tore it off. Even if it was mechanized, it was connected with Chelsea's nervous system, so the pain was excruciating. “What if I change this memory?” It was strange, Chelsea could feel it changing. A happy memory of a stable relationship had become tainted. Why did Franz cheat on her with Lia? “How about...”

Chelsea couldn't take it. She was confused, angry and sad. She sobbed.

“Please... Stop... Mercy... Why are you doing this?”

A useless plea and a meaningless question. She knew why Wu did what she did. And she also knew that Wu would not stop, she would never stop.

“Who are you to ask me anything?” Wu raged as she tore Chelsea's clothes. “You are mine! Now and forever! You are me, you can be me! Nothing is out of bounds.”

She then kissed Chelsea deeply. Unable to resist, a strange liquid was forced down Chelsea's throat. New pains were felt. Screams echoed inside of her: Hatred, sadness, despair, hope, happiness, love. Then drowned by an unquenchable rage. She knew she was screaming, but who else did? Everyone did. Her world changed forever.