She sat upon her throne of the Damned. Dressed in a white Greek-style dress, Dekatrei looked upon her kneeling subjects – shadows of past long gone, hallow armors suites that had guarded her for almost a millennium.

Countless souls had met the end of their blades. Bled on this hall's marble tiles. And many more will – beckoned by a voiceless call of faith, glory, and gold. But they’ll never compare to taste of ancient past, of never-ending bloodshed. When the dungeon's hallways turned into crimson rivers and staircases into waterfalls. When she truly called herself (self-proclaimed) – the Queen of the Damned, and stood high upon the bodies of fallen heroes, laughing and throwing challenges to the gods.

Alas, it was so long ago. Now there was dust and spiderwebs. Sorrowful echoes of longing – a long-lost crown and a forgotten “old” woman.

Something had gone wrong –

“...and nobody knows, why?”

Silence greeted her plea. There were no answers from the Queen’s voiceless subjects. Only empty stares.

Only the cold loneliness.

She had patiently sat in her place, with palms in her lap – and waited: For Heroes to Vanquish; For a chance to Ramble her grand Monologues; For new orders from the Mother; For a Quest from the [Voice]. And waited and waited and waited and … Her beautiful face twisted in a rose of frustration and her long nails dug into stone armrests. She had waited and waited and – now she had enough.

Unable to no more contain herself, Dekatrei lurched forward and shouted, “[Obey]|: And be GONE! Kill! KILL! Kill everything in your way. Slaughter! Murder! Butcher! Kill until you build me a temple of dead bodies. Kill until me, your goddess, your Queen of Damned gets that Damned [Voice] to notice me and answer for ignoring the Queen of Damned!” Her voice went hoarse for being silent so long and yet she didn’t care and continued.

“And if IT doesn’t answer – Slaughter, Murder, Butcher – Find that [Voice] and kill, KiLL, KILL IT!”

Her words, magical, permeated every being in this room, giving them breathe of life one last time.

Metal wails filled throne rooms chilly air as the chanting of “Kill!” continued. Her beautiful red capped dark suits, each a true work of art and love, stood. Some held two-handed swords or maces in their arms, others spears and shields. All were battle worn, carrying multiple dents and scratches on their ancient metal bodies. Every one of them gained by serving their mistress.

As one, they turned, showing their wide backs to their Queen, and, step after step, left her in the throne room that once had gleamed in gold, but now was drenched in the darkness of time and memories.

Finally, she stopped and breathing heavily, leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes and listened till the last of echoes died down and her breathing slowed. She listened till her heart stopped raising and stillness drummed in her ears.

“And now..” Dekatrei coughed to clear her throat and looked over her empty throne room. “All I need is...”

The Queen smirked.

“– A prince. This damsel needs saving.” She laughed at herself. She had a plan. Or more like a vague idea.

A way to get her back into the spotlight where heroes stand in line to challenge the Queen of the Damned like in the good old days of glory, bloodshed, and when… when the [Voice] was the closest thing to a friend Dekatrei know.

Her smiled slipped. Regret gently caressed woman's heart with its black cold hand – teased with the promise of death. Made her doubt.

– Did I do right?

– Maybe I overreacted?

– What will happen now that my servants marched on and left me alone and defenseless?

– Who will retaliate?

Those and a hundred other questions seemed to entomb her alive with no escape other than a silent scream beneath the earth.

Dekatrei looked down at her hands, their slender fingers and long nails.

– And when did I start to question things?

All this was because The Queen had enough of being a prisoner of her own domain of being just felt here alone.

Most had forgotten her – Heroes… Mother…[Voice].

Those that come, just stumble here and didn’t (of course) live to tell the tale. But every time there were less and less of them with longer gaps between.

How long till there be none? And what will happen then? Will she just sit here and wait for… what?

– Is there a point to this torment?

A shiver past bay and the Queen hugged herself. For the first time, in a long time, she seemed so small upon her stone throne. Like a child in a lap, looking wide-eyed at the world and knowing nothing about it.

When had she felt like this?

A memory flickered almost forgotten. “Mother, I have no fear." She had said it with conviction. A small girl still holding on to a naive belief that all is as it should be.

‘Yes, I had none.’ She silently mouth.

‘I have none’ And this time with a different meaning. Not one of trust, but experience.

For fear was a foreign concept, reserved for those that breached her sanctuary and breathe its dead air. Forced upon by loyal subjects in her name. She had to only point and say one word: "[Obey]" and armies would kneel before her and die.

“I have no fear." She repeated aloud.

For it had to be true. She had no need for it. If Dekatrei was to play her cards right, she’ll be the Queen of the Damned again. Or turn to dust like everything else. That is it.

Dekatrei had made the right choice. And it matters not who has to die to make it true.

The whole world can burn for all she cares.

A soft tremor swayed Queen’s golden earrings and awoke Dekatrei from her thoughts.

Her guest had arrived.

She felt in her bones. A wrongness deep inside. Like a nagging of a cockroach in one’s flesh, that needed to be dug out and crushed. But she abstained from indulging this old impulse. Dekatrei needed her “charming” saviors. Her little knights, her little princes – so that finally this princess is saved from this “castle”.

Maybe later – after everything was done, she’ll have a little snack.

The Queen stood with her white dress unfurling and her throne crumbled to dust. She straightened to look as imposing and majestic – with her gold jewelry and crown of golden butterflies – as a Queen should.

Her tender steps left footprints on the dusty staircase and halls tiles, while woman’s white dress quickly swept them away.

She slowly walked alone across her throne room. Without her servants, it seemed bigger, darker – alien. Torchlight did nothing to help. Long shadows glared back from every empty corner. Still, way too soon the Queen stopped at the grand entrance, looking past her domain, breathing deep into the lungs its oily darkness that tried to suffocate her.

Despite herself, the Queen nervously licked her lips. She was about to break a rule (again) – the very first one she got.

“[Rule]: Stay here... Don’t leave, unless summoned.”

«From this day forward, The 13th Boss isn’t allowed to leave its domain unless (...)»

Now with defiance, Dekatrei stepped over the threshold, diving into the black darkness and waited for the Voice, that would not come. She counted to five, the time needed to say ‘The 13th Boss has left its domain’, and finally, to surprise to even herself, whispered silently. “You really are gone."One rule followed by many more, like links of a chain, together holding her in place.

Was it sadness? Loneliness? Did she really miss Its words, orders, punishments? She might not know. Back then she didn’t mind. In her mind it was Love. The way it should be. Or the closest thing Dekatrei had experienced.

A love she missed. Oh, so much it hurt, with pain that turned to hate and the hate she cherished. At least it was something to fill this emptiness inside. Something she knows, unlike sadness. The Queen's heart had only known the joy of bloodshed. And the hate was the cherry on top.

But now other emotions where strangers inside. How do you call them? How do you express them? How, if these questions were also invader in the Queen’s once solid heart.

«(…) ~ unAUTHORized ~ (…) ~ bREACHed ~ (…)»

Her minds walls started to crumble under the weight of unknown entities that flooded her thoughts from both sides. Something forbidden had been opened.

«(…) ~ backup installation ~ (...)»

Dekatrei grabbed for her head and swayed, hitting the wall with her shoulder and then leaned against it.

«(…) ~ ErRor ~ (...)»

Strange pressure filled her mind. As if something wanted to break outside.

She clenched her teeth. The Queen will not scream. Will not show weakens. And yet, a sob escaped her rosy lips, defeating her in an instant.

«(…) ~ cOrRUPtioN OF Data ~ (…) ~ fAIL SAFE unrEsPOnDIng ~ (…)»

A distortion of a voice rang in her mind as if the punishment for leaving her domain.

Should she beg? Plead for it to stop?

Others had done it while kneeling before her feet. With tears in their eyes, wailed for their life and families, striking bargain and promises. She had killed them.

«(…) »

And then it just... stopped. Like the great pressure of the hero's foot on her head, lifted. And she was alone again.

“[Voice]?”

...

Nothing. Only a memory of her weakness remained and the dull throbbing pain at her side where she hit the wall. The humiliation.

Whit the strange feeling subsiding, Dekatrei slowly straightened.

What was that? It hadn't sounded like the [Voice] Dekatrei know. This one was more… cold, like when she had first spoken with it so long ago. Like a memory of past.

As her racing heart slowed, The Queen was reminded of her nagging feeling. Her cockroachy guests won’t be waiting for long. She needed to hurry and greet them properly.

Sidestepping her little experience and leaving it for a later time to think over, Dekatrei returned to her goal.

Only one thing stopped her for but a second. A little mouse at the far corner.

“Pest [Obey] and die.”

Little creatures eyes shined bright gold. The mouse let out a pitiful squeak before starting to claw out its own trout, completely powerless to resist The Queen's compulsion. Every second animal's nails dug deeper into its own flesh, covering the brown fur in sticky red blood. Soon, couple heartbeats later, the little fluff ball laid on the ground motionless in its own pool of blood and the only witness to Dekatrei shameful display was dead.

From the throne room, she walked briskly down the long, twisted, pitch black hallways and turn after turn, following the tremors of unease getting clearer.

Dekatrei had no need for a light source. She could feel everything. This walls, floor, and ceiling might as well been excitation of the woman’s body. Every hallway, staircase, and room were hers. Just like one would feel someone tapping on their shoulder, she felt multiple dirty feet traversing farther ahead. Those were the dungeon’s two legged cockroaches.

Her would-be saviors, she wasn’t allowed to kill – … yet.

She passed rooms full of the twisted undead and holes in walls that peered into the abyss. She skipped over dead bodies and whistling darts. She didn’t blink an eye at monsters that watched from the shadows or listened to the three demons that always whispered promises of gifts and power.

«ThE QueEN oF DaMNed…»

«Oh~ it is the Day, isn’t It, The Queen of Damned?»

«… are you sure, the queen of the damned.. you don’t want our help...?»

«wE cOuLD lANd a Hand, ThE QueEN oF DaMNed… we hAVE sSo maNY OF tHOsE!»

«… they could hurt our precision little one before the queen of the damned gets there…»

«Or they could die, the Queen of Damned. What could you do then?»

«… wAIt AnOthER tEn yEarS, ThE QueEN oF DaMNed?»

«Or ask…»

«how prophecies untold...»

«CoME tO paSS.»

«The Queen of Damned!»

«… the queen of the damned…»

«Oh, ThE QueEN oF JeaLOUsy…»

Minor... annoyance, that slowly, slowly graded on the woman's nerves.

...

“BEGONE!!!”

The demons continued to laugh long after the Queen disappeared – chasing an unseen compass and goings after a map of feelings, on a road that almost seemed like an eternity, that abruptly ended when Dekatrei met her would-be saviors.

Standing on a golden island of light, engulfed by the black sea of darkness, were five knights in shining (albeit bloody) armors.

Up close, they looked so alive, full of duty, dreams, and desires, so different from her own hallow shell servants, that The Queen of Damned almost let out a yelp, before hiding in one of hallways shadows.

It’s been so long, but now the west wall had crumbled in the last earthquake, giving ample opportunity for the new cockroaches to crawl inside through the hole, deep into labyrinths hear. This was the second time they had gotten exactly this far. She didn’t have a plan back them and deposed of the first batch.

Luckily, no Hero had come forth to exploit this weakness and ruin all of Queen’s plans. They might have gotten tired of this place, these halls – this Queen.

But the free-willed ones were still dangerous. Especially humans who only come to kill and destroy all that was beautiful in this dungeon.

Dekatrei needed to be careful. Even pests could overpower if given numbers.

Funny – The Queen of Damned could kill them with a snap of her finger, like many before, or sing them her siren song to lead the worriers over the age. They, after all, were no Heroes with prophecies to pose a threat to her. Ants in her way. And yet, outside her domain, the Queen felt vulnerable. Like she had no power here.

She hated it.

‘I have no fear – None.’

But her heart beat so hard and she had to press her palm to her mouth so that they wouldn't hear her stumbling breath. She only needed to be patient and, until then, stay hidden and lead them the right way.

Dekatrei roughly knows where they were. The knights had yet reached the Dungeons Heart, but they were close.

Just a little more guidance and then they’ll die – expiring their usefulness.