“Thousands wait eagerly for the arrival of Dom Q at Terminal 2 of Nova Starport. The artist has topped the charts for the last five years. His first concert on the home planet since he left on a tour three years ago, has drawn the interest of fans and critiques alike. Port officials have set out a special area for those who want to glimpse the singer as he arrives. Dominion authorities have issued a warning that any…”

“Would you turn that drivel off?” Dom Q said with frustration written on his face.

“Dom, you got to relax.” It was the twentieth time he had said those words to the star in the last hour. “You’ll walk down for everyone to see, sign a few posters and we go to the diner…”

“Trust me, Harry, it is not happening.” The young man said and his face twisted in a scowl.

“Come on! You still mad about this?” The plump man jumped and began pacing the luxurious liner room. “That’s why I did not want to tell you, but we are talking about a private concert for Aula Hester! You know, the daughter of our beloved ruler!”

“I said no,” Dom Q stood from the comfortable chair in the Terminal’s lounge and began rummaging through the content of his bag.

Most of the items that came out were trivial and more than common for anyone to be of any interest to the paparazzi skulking about the premises. No matter how hard Harry tried, and no matter the size of the bribes he offered local authorities, one or two of the damn bastards always found a way to spy on his client. Harry watched carefully as folded t-shirts, socks and a variety of salty snacks were piled around the large bag.

“Come on, man. The GS can wait. I told you, I have security covered…”

The young man stopped his search and walked to him and placed his arms on Harry’s shoulders.

“I love your fat ass, like a brother, but your connections are meaningless when it comes to those people.” Dom’s face turned serious as he spoke the next words. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but my last name is not Quintus, it is Hester.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” Harry could feel the blood drain from his face.

“That’s why I enjoy your company, man. You are ready to believe everything I tell you.” The star laughed and turned away.

“That’s not funny Dom.” The plump man sat on the bed again, not trusting his legs. “Why? Why are you refusing this gig? Do you have any idea how many strings I had to pull to get you this dinner?”

“Because I don’t care about the line of Hester. They are nothing but inbred, slimy sacks of…”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! You never know who might be listening.” Harry nearly roared, his eyes scanning the lounge, just to make sure they were the only ones inside.

Satisfied that all looked normal, the ageing man continued with a defeated sigh. “Be honest with me. What have the GS offered you? I’ll double it.”

Dom Q offered him a datapad without saying a word. The plump man was surprised to see the picture of some plain-looking elf girl on it. Sure, the singer had a fondness for their kind, but it was something Harry had attributed to his eccentric nature.

“You must be joking.” Harry looked at his golden goose trying to gauge his reaction. “You only need to ask and I can get you a dozen broads like her…”

“If what that bastard is insinuating is true, you can’t.” There was anger in the young man’s eyes. “I’m not trusting a single word that comes from his mouth, that’s why I want you to find everything you can about this girl.”

As a manager, he agreed to the strange demand, however, this unnerving connection between his client and the GS worried him. Harry had enough pull in the underworld to know the security firm was up to some really shady things. They had half of the big guys looking over their shoulder and the other half refused to even talk about them.

“Come to think of it, there is something you can do, Harry,” Dom Q smiled in the way his manager had learned meant that he would be asking for something unreasonable. “Can you hire me a car? Nothing flashy. The less inconspicuous, the better.”

“A car?” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You are wondering if I can get you car, while we are in the largest passenger Terminal in the entire Dominion?”

“Yes or no, Harry. You don’t need to be sarcastic about it.”

“Of course, I bloody can! I just fail to see why would you ask for something like this…”

“Because, I packed my wallet with my other things,” the singer smiled mischievously. “And because I’m not going to give that bastard the satisfaction to have me marched up to him with an armed escort.”

“Yeh… I don’t think that’s going to work, kid,” Harry let out a sigh and pointed at the one-way glass door separating the langue from the main portion of the Terminal.

As usual, the bodyguards Harry employed were stationed there, making sure that no one was allowed inside without his permission. It was a costly arrangement, that infuriated some of the higher-ups of the Spaceport, but as long as he was generous with the money transfers, they were willing to turn a blind eye and ignore all the complaints. This time, Harry had made sure the amounts he paid under the table were very generous and had a few people from the security staff helping out, keeping fans and journalists at a respectful distance. It had even allowed him and his prised star to circumvent customs checks and the majority of the bureaucracy involved in entering the Capitol.

However, instead of seeing the bored looks of the bodyguards, Harry was looking at heavily armed GS guards win full riot gear and what had to be a corporate drone patiently waiting for the manager to acknowledge his existence.

“That bastard dares call me paranoid,” Dom Q hissed quietly and kicked his bag sending it flying into the far wall.

Harry knew that when off stage, the musician was either sarcastically annoying or brooding, but he had come to realise that such was the price of talent. However, it was the first time he had seen the young man become violent. It was nothing like with some of the other people Harry had worked with, but that was just it, no matter how annoyed or frustrated Dom Q got, he always took it with a faked smile and would allow his manager to take care of the problem.

“Look, Harry, I really enjoy your company, that’s why I’m asking you to go to the hotel and wait for me there. This thing with the GS ain’t going to take long. A day at most. So, just wait for me there, ok?”

“I don’t…” Harry’s protest was cut short by Dom Q placing his hand on the plump man’s shoulder and squeezing.

The manager always knew that the young man was strong, but this was something else. It felt like his fingers were digging right into his bones.

“You don’t need to understand. Actually, the less you know, the better.” There it was, that obviously faked smile that always disarmed him and made him comply with the absurd demands of his prised star.

“How should I put this…” The young man scratched his chin, as he nonchalantly made his way towards the door. “This is a family matter. Besides, I’m not like the others. I don’t take part in their perverted sadistic games.”

Before Harry could comprehend what he had just heard - let alone make any sense of it - Dom Q was walking away with the GS drone and the armed escort.

Cylin was nearing the end of her training session when Martell’s voice interrupted her from the speakers.

“Dominique has arrived.”

“Good for him, but I’m in the middle of something.” She hissed.

“Your playtime can wait. You agreed to the rules…”

“I either blow some steam in here or bury you under this building. The choice is yours.” The words came out sharper than she intended, but sometimes it was the only way he would listen to her.

“Cylin…” She released a fraction of her powers to destroy the speakers putting an end to the conversation.

“Why can’t he understand that the Godslayers are no more? It’s because we humour him, that’s why.” The girl snapped at the lobotomised orc waiting for her command in the training cage.

“It’s because we are weak. Like him, we cannot let go of the past, no matter how much we hide it,” Cylin continued her rant as she adjusted the brute’s settings at the small console attached to the wall.

“You know,” she turned to the mindless creature allowing her anger to guide her, “I miss the old days when we walked among the people like gods! Inney had the best idea – be worshipped as a god!”

Cylin removed all restrictions from the programming and took her stance as the orc shifted inside the cage. For a normal person, this would be suicidal. The creature had its nerves stapled and was genetically enhanced through hormone therapy and muscle grafts. Without the restrictions, it could snap a man’s spine with a single blow.

“Not that I would admit it to her,” she said and sidestepped the beast’s charge as the cage door swung open.

A smile crept on her lips as she saw the creature lose its balance trying to turn and follow her. Perhaps setting its aggression protocols to maximum might not have been the best idea. Sure, it made for an interesting challenge, but there was no strategy behind its mindless dashes. It would have been a simple task to release her gift and end it in a second. She could bathe it in fire. Decapitate it with a kinetic blade. Or pump it with so much radiation its bones would melt. Or just overload the circuitry in its mangled brain with a bolt of good old lightning to the eyes. But that would do nothing to alleviate her frustration. Cylin went through the list of possible conventional attacks she could use as she dodged the massive arm aimed at her head.

“Nadene was the only one who could stop me.” She spat the words, trying to hind the pain from the memories the name evoked.

Lost in thought she missed the kick and felt the ribs on her right-side splinter. The lapse allowed the orc’s fist to clip her shoulder and send her spinning to the ground. Anger and pain clouded her mind for a moment and she nearly lost control of the feral side of her mind. It was as much part of her as it was a different entity entirely. It had taken them time, but they had realised it. The Hollow Gods’ blessing had come with a nasty price tag attached to it. Worst of all, was that it was different for each of the Slayers.

Gracefully she dodged the next couple of attacks, giving her bones the time, they needed to re-knit. Cylin envied Martell in that regard. The man healed as fast as wounds were inflicted on him, while they all had lost that ability as soon as they left the facility under Scoria. It didn’t happen immediately; it was gradual and far more painful as time passed. And it would be a few minutes before her ribs were as good as new.

She wondered if it was worth the cost to have kept the full power of that ability. The melancholy, the angry outbursts, to have a stick up her ass… It would have been too much for her to bear.

“Well, having something up there might be enjoyable for a few hours,” Cylin smirked as she entertained the thought of sharing a bed with Martell again.

A jab from the orc to her forehead quickly put an end to that idea.

“You are right. It would end badly. It always does,” Cylin said as she put some distance between herself and her opponent.

The beast stopped its barrage of strikes, most likely adjusting for her speed and agility. Allowing it to adapt was a bad idea. She knew it was about time to end this. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to be there when Inney arrived. She could not miss the elf’s expression when they told her the big news.

Cylin knew she had been stalling for time. It was precisely because of Dominique. She just couldn’t deal with his paranoia and mistrust towards all of them. The idiot was willing to put the word of strangers before that of those who knew him the best. Indeed, all of them had a good reason to hate each other, but with him, it went too far. Most of all because he hated her.

“It’s not my fault the others liked me better. I was not the one who closed myself and pushed everyone away,” She screamed at the orc and charged it.

Dextrously she used the beast’s large arm to push herself into the air and land on its shoulders. Her slender fingers found the eyes, with a movement practised a million times, and dug deep into the soft tissue. The orc roared in pain, but with its vocal cords surgically removed, only a soft gurgling sound came out of its gaping maw.

“Always pretending to be better than the rest of us! Claiming to have the moral high ground! When his hands are covered in the blood of the guilty and the innocent!” She screamed at the orc, giving voice to the burning anger in her mind.

It tried to peel her off, but Cylin wrapped her legs around its neck. Her strength on par with its. Weathering the few uncoordinated blows to her sides, the girl pushed all ten of her fingers inside the eye sockets and pulled. With a feral scream, she tore the top of the mighty creature’s skull, exposing the mixture of brain and cybernetics underneath.

She could have ended it simply and cleanly. Disconnecting any one of the wires or circuit boards, and that would have been enough. Instead, her fist punctured through the brain, destroying it completely. The animal within her wanted as much to sate its hunger. The orc trembled and fell to the padded floor, trapping her under it.

Heaving, Cylin pushed the half-ton creature to the side feeling the muscles in her arms scream in pain. She stood there, lying on the gym floor, trying to get her breathing back to normal and taking stock of her injuries. Torn ligaments, broken bones, bruised muscles, some internal bleeding; it would be at least two days before she recovered completely. However, it was all worth it.

“Thanks for hearing me out. You are a good listener,” Cylin gently patted the dead orc’s shoulder and unsteadily got up to her feet.

“The blessed Lo’tul and her honoured guards, Mr Regis.” Inney could barely keep her mouth shut as the elf girl introduced her and the two sacrifices.

“Thank you Viin.” That was her name, she smiled behind her mask. As expected, Martell knew she had forgotten and it was all for her benefit.

Once dismissed, the small creature bowed lightly and left the room. Most likely she had been confused at seeing everyone gathered in the study. Inney had noticed it in the girl’s voice and uneasy steps.

“It’s been a bloody long time! Pour me a glass, will you?” Inney could not keep up her role any longer, knowing that their little charade was coming to an end.

She shoved herself between Igo and the nameless idiot he had brought with him. Not that the youngling had no name, after all, he was someone worthy enough to earn his position, she simply did not care to remember it. With unhidden glee, she dropped into the free chair by the table and removed the mask from her face. Happy to be rid of the damned thing.

“Uh-um…” Dominique cleared his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He pointed at the two guards without so much as looking at her.

“Right, right. Cylin, be a dear and do your thing,” Inney waved her hand at the girl, hoping that this time she would actually speed things up, and placed her mask on the table.

Her face twisted when she imagined the confusion written on Igo’s face. How would she have loved to torment him more. To crush everything, he had been taught to believe. A small part of her screamed at the sadistic joy she was feeling. It always did, and she always ignored it. She knew the others were simply indulging her so that she would not complain for the next few months, but she didn’t mind it. She would have her fun.

“I am NOT your attack dog,” Cylin’s remark was said with as much disrespect and aversion as Inney had hoped for.

“Really now…” The elf could not help but bait the poor thing. “It would have made it so much faster…”

That was it, the expression she was longing to see. The mixture of horror and rapture painted on Igo’s face as he saw her true face, made her heart beat faster. One look at the other one of her bodyguards dampened her mood. The stupid face was locked in bewilderment, indicating he was unable to comprehend that she was their Goddess.

How disappointing. With a single swift motion of her hands, she broke the man’s neck. He could not react in time even if he had expected the attack. Only the others stood a chance against her speed. Taking a deep breath, filled with anticipation, she stood in front of Igo gently caressing his cheek.

“Why?” He managed to utter the word through the rattling of his teeth.

“My poor Igo, your devotion knows no limit,” Inney spoke gently to him, savouring his fear. “Sadly, so did your stupidity. I gave you so many chances to change your foolish nature, to renounce the idiotic idea of the purists. I had great plans for you. To make you one of the twenty.”

He had to be punished. How dared he misinterpret her words, when talking to the poor thing in the car. Did he really think, she wouldn’t know he was pushing the insane idea that the Goddess despised the modified elves? Inney was sad and disappointed that he had failed every test she had set for him. She had invested so much preparing him to become one of the Twenty. Pale imitations though they might be, their presence was nonetheless comforting, bringing back the better memories of the good old days.

“I gave you a last chance on the ship. It was I who placed the words in the Asai’s mouth. It was I who wanted to see if you could change. Instead, you chose the path of the Neth’ra.” He had dared to believe that death was a blessing, like all the other mindless fanatics that surrounded her. “We killed the Neth’ra a long time ago.” She nearly hissed, almost losing control of her anger.

“Let me share a secret with you, Igo,” Inney pressed her lips against his ear. “I never wanted to be your god. It was a mistake, I never corrected.”

“Could you hurry up, Inney?” Martell spoke from behind her, his voice showing he had grown tired of her game.

“I really wanted to share so much more with you. But as you can see my friends are eager to speak with me. So much wasted potential. It’s just sad.” Gently she kissed Igo’s forehead and snapped his neck.

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to tell him how and why I became their Goddess, their Saviour!” She barked at the Second, before getting a hold of her emotions.

“You will be compensated for it, once I call Viin back.” The man lowered his head in a poor attempt of an apology.

Inney noticed the smirk on Cylin's face and the conspiratory look shared by Lilly and Till. The anger she felt a moment ago had completely vanished, replaced by the comforting sensation of curiosity. She really wanted to know why Martell had asked her to keep an eye on the elf girl, but being kept in the dark and toyed with was something she enjoyed far more.