Now they were fully present.

  There were no distracting thoughts. Nothing but the immediacy of the moment.

  Nary a footnote needed.

  There was no other way to enter the Talauthian Last Refuge – a hidden compound that even the highest ranking rogue psions, what scattered few were left that Queen Talisa Talauth could find and bend to her cause, did not know of. Only Talauthians knew of this place, only nine knew of this place long ago, and what was done here was a mystery – it was a gently sloping tunnel straight into a labyrinthine maze of rooms all buried deep underground. When the final remnants of Clan Talauth came upon this place, even they could not understand why the layout was so unnecessarily complex. What purpose did that serve? It had clearly been spirit-excavated a long time ago too. So whatever creation it brought to bear must have been a very long time in the making.

  The ground around them – the brain terrain – curved and warped and contracted into coral-like shapes, folded into rippling curves that curled and unfurled into yet more folds, more hidden gullies. The folds bent into paths, and the paths were all tangled together. It was called brain terrain for it resembled the folds of the brain of most creatures. The Archon found it poetic. Plumbing the depths of the mind, the brain- what better visual representation of the infinite complexity, the untangled chaos, of the mind? Every mind was a maze, but if the way could be seen, if the path was known, escape – freedom – was simply taking the next step. A maze is never closed, can never be. It would cease to be a maze without an exit. It would, instead, be a prison.

  But the mind was never a prison. The way out to the world outside of the mind- it was always there. One only had to step through.

  The way through the natural brain terrain maze had been bulldozed by dozer reavers. Brute force had ripped apart the intricate bends and folds and twisting turns. The Archon found it funny. The Talauthians had fled into their fortress, unwilling to take the fight out here, but still Clan Amallark felt the need to dominate. To destroy this beautiful Aryssal nature. It was flaying. They had flayed a path to their enemy. Desecration. This Aryssal soil had never seen such violence until now.

  And along this path of desecration stood the column.

  All the forces Clan Amallark could muster were gathered here now before the great blast vault doors, towering tall in the depression carved into the earth that led into the death maze. The army had been ordered to closely follow the Suicide Squad as their successful raids continued. All knight legions, all assassins, and whatever carapace resources or Aryssal bodysuits were left were given to the highest performing workers and soldiers, as many that could be removed from the Hive without interrupting vital function. Exactly ten thousand, three hundred, and fifty-seven elvans. And although their commander-in-chief was not there present with them to lead the way, her psionic presence had entangled them all – Amefrid had sobered up and she was at full power now – what they saw was what she saw, but what they thought was what she thought.

  Except for the Archon.

  They stood silently in formation. First, the legions of knights to lead the breach behind the Suicide Squad. Then, all the vassal death squads. Finally, behind them, the psions and assassins. Their bodies were all still. There was no telepathing. Outwardly, it appeared that they thought nothing. Blank. Nothing but dutiful obedience. Not even fear.

  But it was not so, deep inside their minds. The Archon could sense it all.

  It was not individual thought-voices anymore, it was not necessary.

  The Archon felt their fear, their awe, their hopes and dreams. They came together and coalesced.

  The vassals were too beaten down to disobey.

  The clanners were used to the vassals doing all the work, and now that they were about to enter the bloodiest battle that had ever occurred on Aryss, they were terrified.

  There were those who were ready to fight for the glory of the Goddess, but this far from Ultima, they were too far to truly feel the Goddess’s love. Now, in front of the ultimate enemy, the Rogue Queen Talisa Talauth, they only had their faith in the Goddess left.

  The psions only wished to perform their duties without being flayed by Amefrid.

  The assassins had the darkest thoughts of all. They wanted to inflict suffering. They took pride in ending the consciousness of others. Such was part of their training. It disappointed the Archon, how they embraced their cursed discipline.

  And finally, the Princess Amefrid fully believed that killing Talisa will bring her to her mother’s good graces. This was it. Victory was at hand.

  But if she could not be redeemed, and if Senjya would replace her, she would take matters into her own hand. Once the Knight Leader was broken from slaying the Rogue Queen, so too would the Conduit. Then she would ride for her.

  All this was so clearly felt to the Archon now, the minds of all connected to the psionic web save Maetra herself, that the Archon could not help but feel pity for Amefrid, and for Senjya. It was not their fault that their mother had bent them like this.

  Amefrid’s psi-presence no longer felt constricting. It felt pathetic. The denial, the sloth, the indulgence, the entitlement- it had all only weakened her. No longer an anaconda, it was a slug. She did not want what would truly serve her. The prison she remained in had an open door, but she refused to leave.

  And yet, the spoiled child still had to be obeyed.

  Soldiers! Amefrid began.

  Know that on this rote you are carrying elvankind to a new era! An era of peace. An era where all give glory to the God Empress, our Goddess.

  When Clan Talauth falls, then the last rogue clan has fallen. And when the last rogue clan has fallen, Aryss will be yours.

  There will be no more raids. No more rangings. You shall know peace, and contentment. You shall grow old here in these new lands, it shall be your new home. You will have the honor of paving the way- Aryss shall be the new horizon of the Elvan Empire!

  Chants of “Glory to the Goddess!”, “Long Live Clan Amallark!”, and “We Serve the Imperium!” and a smattering of whoops and cheers erupted through the ranks, shouting into their carapace helms. In airless Aryss, they couldn’t be heard by any ears but their own. But the Archon heard it.

  You fight for a new dawn. A new age. The elvan age.

  They pumped their fists in the air. They beat the chest plates of their carapace. They whispered their battle prayers to themselves. All lies. Inside, there was nothing but warbling fear, and loneliness. There was no true connection to this cause. Life was hell here.

  May the Goddess protect.

  All this time, the Archon stood still. Atell, Second and Third stood behind him. They had stood in the very back ranks. But all the legions and all the death squads knew exactly who would take point.

  The Suicide Squad.

  The column parted; they made way. The Archon and his squad marched forward to meet their destiny.

  Now, at the very front of the column, the Archon stood looking at the blast doors. They had been permanently sealed, for if not it would be elementary to open it with psionics. Spirits had been laid all along the door’s edges and they chewed away at the steel, carbide fiber, and gryphantene filaments.

  Kay-El’s thought-voice was faint to the Archon. The Archon could tell that the soldier was suffering, deep inside. He revolted against what had to be done. But the Total Domination had already taken effect. They were in control now. And there was no undoing this. The two souls bound together within the Archon had been irrevocably changed.

  What had to be done, had to be done.

  Serun, clad in his Amallarkean carapace, strode up to the Archon. Though their raw power was cloaked, hints of it could still be scryed, but Serun could not. Still, this unnerved him. There was something different about the Knight Leader now.

  “Are you ready, vassal?”, he said this more to steel himself- was he ready? He was not expecting them to hear it in airless Aryss. But they did.

  They did not respond. Serun left it at that. No time for bullying vassals when the final mission was at hand.

  None of the Amallarkeans knew the full power of them. And they preferred it that way. But the power would have to be revealed eventually. Because this was it. This was the final barrier between Vilithe and Kay-El finally meeting.

  The blast doors breached.

  Within them, Vilithe could still think. She couldn’t quite separate herself from them. She couldn’t quite find her own unique self anymore. But she knew, just as they knew of Kay-El’s faint consciousness resisting this eventuality, when the thought-voice was her own, and when it was theirs- the Archon’s.

  Vilithe thought to herself, no matter how much this hurts me, it will not hurt me as much as it hurts my love. She had to protect Kay-El.

  The Archon knew better. What would happen here would hurt them both.

  But it would be they, the Archon, that would protect them, the lovers.

  What are you waiting for, vassal? Commanded Amefrid.

  The blast doors fell open.

  The tunnel yawned wide. It was completely pitch dark, but they didn’t need light to see. It was not radiation now, but pure psionic energy that the Archon used to navigate. Each mind a realm, and each realm a multitude, and all connected. They could see through not just the eyes of all, but the memories of all.

  It was sparse. Just polished flat stone walls. They could see both the past and the present. They could see the workers that manipulated the spirit-machines that excavated it. The decades that it lay dormant. The flight of the Rogue Queen to her final domain.

  They strode in. The Archon did not bother to raise a weapon. The greatsword slung on their back remained sheathed. The Kalashnikov they carried slung to the side, safety lever yet to be clicked off.

  The Amallarkean Army rushed in, streaming about and just behind the Archon, leveling their rifles, sweeping the long tunnels, but they found no enemy.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The Archon kept walking forward.

  Step by step.

  Silently the forces followed behind. Psionic chatter, the declarations of cleared rooms, commands to follow, even just idle telepathic chitchat, it all felt so small, so insignificant to them now.

  The tunnel got darker and darker. The forces thinned out, unwilling to push further. The army all cowered behind the Archon. Except for Atell, Second and Third. They stayed close behind.

  At the end of the tunnel was a large foyer. It was clear that this space had been used by Clan Talauth but now, under siege, it had been abandoned. Cutlery lay strewn across the floor, the long tables that sat the Clan together arranged in rows. The ceilings rose high. The Amallarkeans flooded the hall with light, and engravings that told the story of Clan Talauth, to those who could read them, but it was all already known to the Archon. They had already absorbed all of the Knight Leader’s memories, though they did not grant them back to the Knight Leader. They did not grant it to Vilithe.

  The foyer stood still. Eerie. Empty. Abandoned.

  Hunt. Seek.

  Amefrid’s commands sent the forces skittering. But they just kept walking forward at the exact same steady pace they had maintained this entire time.

  Contact!

  Ambushes erupted in every nook and cranny. The Talauthians had made their move. Heated gunfire crackled all around the echoing, cavernous rooms and twisting hallways. But none of it seemed to concern the Archon. The Amallarkean legions were too distracted with the fighting to notice the Archon casually striding forward, no weapon in hand. Atell, Second and Third had drawn their weapons too, and they were frantically trying to tell Kay-El that he should as well. But the Archon did not. It all felt so far away, and so quiet. They knew where they had to go.

  As the Archon walked through a great central hallway, with levels upon levels of balconies opening to yet further hallways, a young soldier, without carapace, leveled their railgun at them from up high.

  holdPerson(Zeriel Talauth).hallucinate().imprint().sleep();

  The flow of psionic power came so easily to them that the chain of psionic commands felt like but a single thought.

  Zeriel, paralyzed for just a split second as the Archon entered his mind, now no longer ever remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He could not even find his gun, for it had been hallucinated away. He couldn’t remember at all that Clan Talauth was being attacked. He could not see the battle raging around him- that had all been wiped away. He could not hear the gunfire, they had stolen those sounds away. It seemed to Zeriel that it was just a very quiet, uneventful rotation. He suddenly had an urge to go to sleep, so without a word, he walked back to his sleeping quarters. And once he laid down, he would not rouse until the Archon decided so.

  They walked into a branching smaller hallway now through the third entrance on the left from the great hallway. Six blade dancers now rushed the Archon, dual-wielding broadswords.

  massHoldPerson([ Eshael, Pretor, Saviyen, Asdel, Urisan, Balorn]);

  They all stood stock still now. The Archon walked right past them. The Amallarkeans behind the Archon slew them on the spot, and they imprinted crafted memories for each so that the Amallarkeans would think the blade dancers fought bravely, instead of simply standing, waiting to be slain. The blinking away of their minds affected the Archon, it felt as if a part of them had been plucked out one by one. But this was to be expected, and it did not faze them.

  The Archon entered a large chamber that opened up from an archway built into the smaller hallway, halfway through. There were eighteen soldiers perched on a hidden ledge fixed high on the wall. They readied their guns, waiting for the Amallarkeans to pass underneath before unloading. But the Archon had forged ahead now, far further than any knight or soldier or assassin dared to go, so that they would be the only one striding through. The soldiers popped out of their cover and-

  greaterMirrorImage();

  Now it seemed that there was a whole swarm of knights, each of them donned with Kay-El’s rogue carapace with the wrist blades. These illusions marched shoulder to shoulder, packing the entire room. The eighteen soldiers emptied their rounds into the hallucinations, but they could not shoot in the direction of the Archon, it was impossible. They simply puppeteered them to shoot in another direction if they somehow aimed at their true position, or that of Atell, Second, or Third, who were now close behind.

  The Archon kept moving. They did not stop.

  Therys began to try and scry the Archon. The threads of thought she relayed back to Amefrid were too easy to snatch out – Princess, I’m sensing some extremely strange psionic energy emanating from the Suicide Squad’s Knight Leader – they twisted the telepathic message to its own ends – Princess, the operation is going smoothly, no issues so far – and then they slipped into Therys’ mind directly.

  imprint(

  target: Therys Amallark,

  delete: There is something strange about the Knight Leader,

  update: The Knight Leader is performing excellently

  )

  And just like that, Therys was convinced that the Knight Leader was just doing his job, and that nothing was amiss.

  At the end of the chamber were two staircases, one that led up, and one that led down. From the staircase that led up, a legion of Talauthian Knights – the last remnants of the Queenguard of the Knights of Clan Talauth, numbering twenty-eight in all – now descended upon the Archon.

  massSleep().massHallucinate(param: corpses).massInvisibility();

  The entire legion dropped and tumbled down the staircase into a heap with a clatter, snoozing. But the Amallarkeans would not be able to tell that they were still alive, after all. When they awoke, they would be psionically cloaked, invisible, and given the chance to save themselves by fleeing into the desert.

  The Archon walked to the staircase that led down. Atell, Second, and Third followed closely behind – they had fired blindly up into the rafters when they entered the ambush chamber but were surprised that the bullets were fired in every direction but theirs – the Suicide Squad could sense that something was different about Knight Leader now. Second and Third attempted to think to him, knowing that Kay-El could hear their thoughts, but Kay-El was buried so deep within the Archon that he could not hear.

  Kay, what’s wrong? You haven’t telepathed a thing. I’ve felt nothing but emptiness from you.

  We aren’t supposed to be here! This wasn’t in the plan! Where are we going? And I haven’t felt Vi around too. Where is she?

  Atell remained silent like the Archon. The Archon knew that Atell, who had felt the psionic energy of Kay-El just before he tried to kill himself, was the only one who had connected to the truth of what had happened.

  They placated their squad. They created a simulation of Vilithe and Kay-El’s thought voices.

  In Vilithe’s thought-voice, there’s been a change of plan, bois, direct order from Therys. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine.

  In Kay-El’s thought-voice, we’re just going to be doing cleanup, should be an easy sortie. Just cover my flanks. We led at the entry breach, but it seems like there wasn’t an ambush there, so the hard part’s done.

  Second and Third should have been suspect – they were the Suicide Squad, why would they be drawn back after breaching? And if they were cleaning up, why were they going somewhere no Amallarkean even thought to go yet? – but the Archon had made it so convincing that now they could only bask in their luck. The last mission before return- was going to be a cakewalk!

  And so, they forged ahead.

  The staircase winded down, and down. There seemed to be no end. Interminable. Still, they march onwards. Still, they descended.

  While the Amallarkean forces tried in vain to scour the levels above, Talisa was down here, in her safe room. It felt so obvious to them. The psionic aura of Talisa was unmistakable, and it grew easier to reach with every step.

  And it was then that the Rogue Queen, the last remaining true Queen, could feel the presence of the Archon. It felt both familiar and strange.

  Who are you?

  At last, they had met an equal, and they relished the meeting.

  I am your son.

  There was no response. The spirit of Kay-El stirred. The spirit of Vilithe, overpowered by the Archon, could not comprehend her state.

  Finally, the Rogue Queen responded.

  You are not my child. You intrude. Leave now.

  The Archon could feel the Rogue Queen commanding her psions. They knew before Talisa herself did that she would summon all her forces to attack the Archon, who had come so close, so much closer than the others, to her innermost sanctum.

  The march of carapace boot could be heard from deep within the depths.

  Kay! Kay, we’re made- we gotta head back, this is a death trap!

  The Archon ignored Second and kept walking forward.

  Kay!

  The bootsteps came louder now. And louder.

  The Archon knew a swarm of knights – not just the Queenguard, but the Queenguard Elite – would be coming up the staircase.

  Second and Third retreated, but Atell stayed.

  The first Talauthian Queenguard Elite reached the Archon. The Queen had wrapped her psionic energy all around him. They could not so easily bend his will now.

  Under the helm, though it was muffled, the Knight cried out, “For the Queen!” and he thrust forward with a lithiated thunder spear.

  holdPerson(Bruxei Talauth);

  Just before the spear could strike them, Ser Bruxei’s muscles froze stiff, the crackling arcs of electricity still dancing upon the speartip, the Archon just out of reach. They walked around the Knight.

  Now two more knights came tight together, so that the Archon could not simply walk past them.

  dominate([Caulren, Kelios]);

  The Archon puppeteered the two knights and had them press their backs against the walls, making way for them. The Archon walked right past.

  Enough!

  It did not stop them, who continued to tread forward, Atell close behind.

  I do not know who you are. But only a Queen wields such great psionic power.

  I am no Queen. It was the truth. This was no Queen. They were the Archon.

  Stop! Go no further!

  They did not stop.

  I can sense your ill-intent, archon. You intend to end me.

  They did not respond.

  You can try.

  A cloaked assassin, thinking she could not possibly be detected for her own psionic power was great, fired her railgun at the Archon.

  They simply stepped to the side, letting the shot sail past, and kept walking forward.

  sleep();

  And just like that, the assassin slunk to the side, her back leaning against the wall of the narrow staircase, peacefully slumbering.

  Queen Talisa took matters into her own mind. Now the Archon could feel the power of her mind blast, and this was not something they could simply shrug off. A wave of fear and hatred immersed the Archon, the fear and hatred of the Rogue Queen, the Forsaken Queen, trapped in this hell, this abyss. And there was also sorrow. Deep sorrow.

  For the first time since entering the compound, the Archon stopped walking forward.

  They could feel the pain, the suffering, the carnage, of the battle raging high above him. Clan Amallark was winning. Slowly, bit by bit, the remaining members of Clan Talauth were crushed, flayed, broken, slain, hunted down from every corner of this place.

  The spirit of Kay-El stirred, once again. The spirit of Vilithe was gone. Vilithe’s consciousness was now so deep inside the Archon that their psionic energy was indistinguishable.

  Vilithe Callethe. The Rogue Queen had plucked her name from them.

  Talisa Talauth. They had let her.

  The clash of the Rogue Queen and the Archon’s psionic energy had ruptured the psionic web so greatly that now Amefrid could feel the disturbance too.

  Serun, Juulyn, Jhynie. She ordered, investigate. We have yet to find the inner sanctum of the Rogue Queen. This may be it.

  They were now at the threshold.

  The Archon knew that what would begin after it was crossed would cause Vilithe and Kay-El great pain.

  But the Archon also knew that these two souls that they so loved could not be without each other.

  And that this was the only way their love could be joined.

  So, the Archon summoned them.

  It has all come to this. Decide now.

  They thought it in unison, for there was no choice in the matter.

  So be it.

  The Archon stepped forward.

  Behind the Archon, Serun, Juulyn, and Jhynie were hustling down the staircase. How had they missed this? This place was a maze! And yet- so many resources were spent to dig it out of the Aryssal earth. What secrets did it hold? It didn’t make sense.

  Serun wondered where that vassal knight he hated so had gone. Somehow, the Suicide Squad had just disappeared. Slipped between the cracks. And it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed, and- well, speak of the devil.

  Second and Third, rushing up the staircase, had to kneel when they saw the three Amallarkeans, for Juulyn had puppeteered them.

  Vassal, where is your commander?

  Second spoke aloud, “Mistress Assassin, Knight Leader has descended the stairs, we feared for him. We went to seek reinforcements.”

  Juulyn looked at Jhynie. Did you send him down here? Did Amefrid?

  Jhynie looked back at her octuplet sister. No one was sent down here but us.

  Serun snarled, “You two vassals, you follow us.” He looked back at the assassin twins, “Can we get more forces down here?”

  Juulyn broadcasted a psionic signal but she felt nothing. As if they were sealed down here in a psionic bubble, not very different from the ones in the hexcomb tubes. She couldn’t even reach Amefrid. With alarm she looked at Jhynie, something is very wrong here.

  Jhynie leveled her bullpup railgun and nodded. Do we go back, or go forward? Do or Die. Victory or Defeat. Or Death.

  Looking down into the dark depths of this abyss that they found themselves descending into, Juulyn wanted to run. She wanted to flee. Like a little snaga. She didn’t care. There was something disturbing in the darkness down there. Something beyond what normal psionics should be capable of. Survival instinct flared. Her amygdala told her to fly. Fly, fool. Fly. There are demons here in the nine hells.

  But if they could kill the Queen herself, the honor would be immense. They would never have to leave the hive again. They would surely be raised from the station of assassin to proper governing psion.

  The three Amallark siblings shared a look. They had come this far. They had corralled these vassals to what appeared to be imminent total victory for Clan Amallark on Aryss. Here now, they were free to make a decision, cut off from their Goddess Mother and their Princess. Do they run back like snagas? Or push forward?