Shrike stared at Zhulong’s face. Or at least, what used to be his face. His first head hung from the center of a wall opposite of the door. As if that weren’t surreal enough, a wooden "death” counter was placed directly below it. There were quite a few tallies. Unsettling as those decorations were, seeing them—strange as it sounded—allayed some of her fears. Only a supremely graceful loser would put their defeats on display. She just hoped that Zhu would still be magnanimous about his failures now that the stakes were higher. “Point dem beady liddle eyes at something else! Ya ain’t worthy of lookin’ at cap’n Zhulong’s old head!” one of her zobaka guards ordered. She grudgingly turned her sights elsewhere. In truth, she might be better off just shutting off her eyes. Zhu’s room wasn’t just disturbing, it was a literal tomb. The walls to her left and right were covered in plaques inscribed with the names of countless fallen zealots, mercenaries, slaves, and animals. Pieces of Zhu’s favorite fallen minions and pets adorned the same wall where his old head rested. Skulls belonging to Dirge the first and Dirge the second were nestled within the upper corners of the wall. Four preserved heads identical to Sarin’s rested between the fallen warmongers. Bundles of long black hair, lopped-off hands, and crude paintings marked the times Zhulong failed to retrieve his deceased vassals’ heads. A surprising revelation was that Sarin One through Nine had been common snakes. Shrike wondered how the current one felt about being named after a pet. The largest trophy in the collection stood opposite of the original Dirge’s memorial. The taxidermied corpse bore an uncanny resemblance to Zhu, but there were too many subtle differences to brush it off as a red clone. It was more gracile, especially in the jaw department. In addition, it was missing several of Zhu’s trademark features, such as his long barbels or his jagged rattle. Whatever it was, its frozen rictus made it clear it did not go peacefully. When the guards weren’t looking, she sneaked a peek at the label beneath its armature. Beneath the flurry of scratch marks, she could make out the words ‘Good night, sweet prince’. “I can’t believe that we received the honor of’ guardin’ the cap’n’s chambers!” one of the crocodilian guards remarked. Mindful of their task, yet unable to resist the urge to marvel at what they considered a holy site, the two took turns watching over her. “When I die, I hope one of me own parts will earn a spot on dese walls.” “Might happen,” the one currently on guard duty replied. “The cap’n had to be so choosy ‘cause of the limited amount of space. I reckon he’s entitled to a few more rooms now that there are a hundred or so vacancies.” The other zobaka scratched his neck nervously. “Ye, really reckon the rest of the black cap’ns are gone for good?” “At least the ones that were on Parabellum. Tampering with dem ziggurats can unleash some evil magic. Remember the time it blew up Zantor?” “Aye, I remember,” the off-shift zobaka muttered morosely. “I overheard Thrugg and some other akhluts yammering and complainin’ about it just this mornin’.” “Those dirty, mutinous otter-whales! Always be clingin’ to the past! I’ll make sure to smack der gobs next time I see ‘em!” “Why does cap’n Zhulong keep em around anyway? ‘Dey ain’t good at fightin’ or laborin’. All dey seem to do is bitch and moan.” “Ah, you know how the cap’n is. He’s a collector. Thrugg and his crew are probably the only akhluts left.” Akhlut

“I hear ‘dey might be the last generation. Their pups are startin’ to come out warped and twisted.” “That so? Well, it’s to be expected. I reckon only two hundred of them made it off of Zantor.” “Never got a chance to visit. What was it like? “ “Wasn’t as warm as Tannin and it was a lot wetter. Had a bigger ocean and a lot more rivers. Was a tad bit safer too, especially since there were so many ammuts around. Unless, of course, you were in the navy. Zantor had some of the nastiest water beasts. Thresher maws, blackdreads, jormuvitans, and ripper dolphins everywhere!” The older zobaka continued to reminisce and Shrike paid rapt attention. His tales fascinated her, and the pair's unwavering devotion to their devourer masters floored her. Even after the BLACK coalition destroyed their ancestral moon, the zobaka zealots didn’t harbor a trace of resentment towards them. A knock on the door several hours later put an end to the nostalgic conversations. “Who—” “It’s me,” an eldritch voice interrupted. The zobaka guards scrambled to unlock the door and bowed their heads. “Greetings, cap’n Zhulong.” “Yeah, good afternoon and whatevs. Did she say anything?” “No, cap’n!” “Great. Good job you two. Now do you me a solid, get out of earshot and make sure nobody comes anywhere near this room.” “Aye aye, cap’n!” Zhu slithered towards Shrike once the two guards had sprinted off. “Right, assuming those two didn’t lie to me, it’s been a while since you’ve said anything. Do you need anything? Food? Drink? Piss break?” “Water,” Shrike rasped. Zhu handed her a bucket-sized mug. Within seconds, she drained a fifth of its contents. “When I said I’d kill you if you said a single word to anyone, I didn’t consider the fact that you might have gotten thirsty or needed to take a leak while I was away.” Shrike hid her skeptical frown behind the rim of her mug. She wouldn’t have put it past him to have deliberately given her zero leeway to bait her into making a mistake. She even refrained from communicating with the guards through hand gestures. “That’s my problem, you see. I have a habit of not thinking things through. Which was fine for most of my life, because I was just a no-lifer that played video games all day. Being an impulsive idiot livened things up. Got lots of laughs.” He spread his arms. “Now suddenly I am the leader of a giant army. Don’t think they’ll be too happy if they realize the guy in charge is a high school dropout. ” He shook his head and let out a sardonic titter. “I figured I wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade going, but who would have thought my past would be uncovered in less than a week?” Shrike quietly digested his words. “So what happens now?” “Well, killing you would be the simplest and smartest solution to this dilemma.” Shrike tensed. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. If he truly intended to kill her he would have already done so. She had to impress or entertain him in some way to ensure her survival. She decided to take a gamble. “But we've already established that you’re an idiot.” A massive fanged grin stretched across Zhu’s muzzle. “Exactly. I don’t know how much stuff you learned about me, but I am sure you realize that I don’t do subtle. I am terrible at pretending that I am something that I am not. Having somebody that I can talk to without having to edit myself or lie to might keep me sane. So here’s the plan—you're going to be my official squire from now on. You know what that is? No? Basically, it means you're my glorified assistant now. When I take off my coat, you hang it. When my back itches, you scratch it. You picking up what I am throwing down?” Shrike frowned. It was good to know that she was not going to die, but she was not terribly enthusiastic about being his stooge. Zhu pinched her cheeks. “Turn that smile upside down.” He snickered as she tried to worm her way out of his grasp. “Like I told you a few days ago, I may hold all the cards, but I know that spite is a dangerous thing to play with. I am not giving you this crappy job just to be a dick—though it is part of the reason,” he sniggered. “I want to keep you close, but it’s probably smart to do it in a way that doesn’t arouse suspicion. The easiest way to do that is to trick the others into thinking that you're just my chew toy slash eye candy. In reality, there is going to be a give and take in this thing I am proposing. You’re going to be around when I go to those long-ass meetings, and boring as they are, you’ll be privileged to some very important information. Play your cards right and you might end up more a partner than a sidekick.” Shrike mulled his proposal over. Of course, she couldn’t reject him, but there was probably no harm in playing hardball. Her intuition once again proved to be correct. “And I can give your people special treatment when we eventually make contact with them,” he said, sweetening the deal. “Or if you're pissed at them for treating you like shit, I can help enact any revenge fantasies you might have.” Shrike smothered a grin and extended her hand. “Deal.” They shook on it. “Great!” Zhu beamed. “Now then, onto the first petty order of the day.” He pounded a fist against his breastplate. “Time to get naked!” Shrike stared at him blankly. “What?” “You heard me. Take it off.” His words started sinking. “Are you serious?” she asked, filled with dread and revulsion. “We just went over this. You’re going to have to do some degrading bullshit to avert suspicion.” He struck his chest again. “Hop to it.” So much for being partners. In hindsight, this shouldn’t have been a surprise. He blatantly undressed her with eyes every time they met. The fact he used to be human didn’t make his lust any more repulsive. For a moment, she seriously considered attacking him. Surely a swift death would have been preferable to this humiliation. But then she remembered the legend of Kanghui. It was said that the father of zonoids began life as a humble snake. Through a combination of luck, guile, determination, and shameless sycophancy, that finger-length serpent went from being a mere animal to a divine being. With that story in mind, she slowly undressed. When her fur coat fell to the floor, she thought of her people. When tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she imagined a world where she had the power to take vengeance on the wretched wyrm. Just as she was about to remove her undergarments, something soft bounced off her face. “What the fuck are you doing, you skank whore?” Zhu demanded. He chucked another pillow at her for good measure. Shrike's face was beet red. “I am doing what you told me to do!” “I told you to take off my armor! Not give me a strip show, you fucking schifosa!” “What?” Shrike asked, her face growing redder and redder. Zhu tugged on his breastplate. “I have been wearing this thing all damn day! Do you have any idea how friggin itchy it gets?” Humiliated, Shrike hopped onto a stool and unbuckled his armor. Zhu continued to harangue her as she worked. “Don’t you have a high opinion of yourself?” he huffed. “Think every guy is queuing up to fuck you, huh? I’ll admit, if you cleaned yourself up, you’d be a solid seven, maybe even an eight. Big emphasis on the cleaning part though! Just look at your arms and lips! You have enough hair to donate a wig to every cancer patient in Topeka! Just look at the furry caterpillar you call a unibrow! I bet you got a bush like a forest too! Hell, I’d probably get carpet burn if I put my dicks anywhere near your crotch! And that smell! Good lord, when was the last time you bathed? I’ve seen plumber buttcracks that were more hygienic!” As the seconds ticked on by, death felt like an increasingly appealing option.