Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius and Kanbrai watched Centurion Zenon Skyreaper work systematically. He used a combination of mundane mopping and mana-fueled pressure-washing to clean the blood from the roadstones.

"(He's pretty good at that,)" Kanbrai remarked.

"(He is...)" Tycon mused... "(Your plans from here, Mister Kanbrai?)"

The cat licked at his paw and brushed his face, "(I guess I'll level up by killing rats or somethin'.)"

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "(The Centurion and I are staying as guests of House Vanzano. Perhaps I can introduce our hosts to you as our companion?)"

The cat shook its head, "(I appreciate it, Tycon. But I'm a solo sort'a guy.)"

Tycon smirked, "(I commend your bravery, Mister Kanbrai.)"

"(Please don't.)" The cat mashed its face upon the stone, "(I put my points into a bunch of solo passives, 'cuz I didn't think I'd be able to find a team. I practically get reduced XP in a group.)"

Points? What could that possibly refer to?

Tycon was silently thankful that his System had no resemblance to Kanbrai's. He didn't quite understand the cat's System-specific diction... but that his cultivation was impaired in a group? Tycon would struggle to adapt with such a limitation.

"(Say, Tycon...)" Kanbrai lifted his head, "(Are there healing tanks in this world? Or consumables that heal injuries? According to my System, it'll take me a few days to get back to full hit-points.)"

"Hmm..." Tycon pursed his lips, "(I'll restore your injuries with one of my skills. If we cross paths again, you owe me a favor.)"

"(Fair enough,)" Kanbrai agreed.

...

Tycon wished Kanbrai well, watching the cat slink off down an opposite alley. From what he had learned, he was fairly certain that Tanamar of Vanzano had transmigrated from another world, much like himself, Kanbrai, and Aurala.

...Though that did nothing to change his perceptions or his situation.

If anything, Tycon hoped that the young man would have an edge over his peers. He had the unique ability to think unlike the natural denizens of the Realm.

"Centurion," He called.

"What's up, Optio?" The diligent Centurion had a healthy gleam of sweat on his brow from his hard work.

"Mister Kanbrai, your feline friend, has appreciated your assistance. He's excused himself, as he has another appointment to deal with."

"O-oh..." The Centurion smiled, not entirely certain about what to do with that information, "He... he did, did he?"

"Further, I'll be paying a visit to House Galanis." Tycon opened his pack, retrieving his dark cloak and hood, "I expect to return late in the evening. Leave a window open, if you would."

"How about I just leave the door unlocked?"

"No, I prefer it this way." Tycon smirked, "When I return, Victorius might soil himself if I appear at his bedside in full armor."

"Hm, alright." The Centurion crossed his arms, "Want any help?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. I will be traveling with stealth."

"Very well." Zenon nodded, "You are pretty good at that. Take care of yourself, Optio. I will see to Athena's evening studies."

...

**Content Warning: Explicit torture and death**

"Don't cry, Little Doe," Ialtrae cooed, her Elven voice musical and soothing.

Doe wiped her face, wet with tears. She hated her situation and the humiliation she was forced to endure. She wanted nothing more than to scream-- maybe it would make her feel better?

She couldn't yell at Ialtrae, though... She was far too sweet... far too kind. She didn't deserve this.

Doe hated her for that.

...It wasn't a real hate. She wasn't that petty... but Doe envied her, nonetheless. She couldn't understand how the Elven girl could stay so brave... still appear so strong. Ialtrae had been in captivity far longer than any of them had. They had tried to break her again and again... but she still somehow kept a bit of dignity.

Doe wanted someone to blame... the Eternal Flame for not answering her prayers, her parents for being poor, House Galanis for their tyranny...

If she couldn't blame anyone, she could only blame herself.

She'd spent most of her life doing that.

She was tired of it.

House Galanis' headquarters were deep within the sewer system below Silva... far enough that the city guard just decided it wasn't worth the trouble, poking around. Flame take the lot of them... it was their fault that Galanis' corruption ran so deep.

Somewhere in that shite-smelling underground maze was a dark cell with two iron cages suspended from the ceiling. Within those cages were five women, naked and starving.., and a sixth woman, naked and dead.

Doe shared her cage with Seta. Seta was a noisy bitch... not that she could be blamed for it. The sounds of buzzing insects and the squirming of maggots in her eyes kept Doe wary. She feared that the maggots would burrow into her ears or feast on her still-living flesh.

No matter how exhausted she was, that fear kept Doe awake.

Ialtrae said it was dysentery. Fancy name or not, Seta soiled herself to death. It was not a dignified death... Was it possible to die *with* dignity? Doe absolutely did not want to die like Seta... not that she had a choice in the matter.

Her and Seta's cage was better than Ialtrae's. Hers filled to capacity, holding three women, mashed together... At least Doe could stretch half her body at a time.

The cages weren't built for comfort.

Why would they be?

As a plus, Doe had the option of throwing her humanity away and filling her belly on Seta's rotting flesh. It's not like Seta was using it, anyroad...

Haha... She'd never be able to do that.

Before this, Doe had always considered herself a practical woman. When House Galanis offered her a job in exchange for a few sexual favors, it only took her a few minutes to accept the offer. When her companions were dying in front of the Vanzano estate, she was the first to throw away her shame and beg the golden-eyed Decanus for mercy. After her failure, when she was stripped naked and lashed within ilms of death, she was more-or-less okay with it.

Currently, Doe was nude, suspended from a metal cage, and crying because she was forced to soil herself in the near-darkness. She was malms away from safety, clean clothing, unspoiled food, and clean water.

She had no idea when exactly she stopped being okay with... anything.

Again, tears began to well up at the corner of her eyes. Whenever she thought she had cried herself dry... she found that she had infinite tears.

It was like she had the Realm's worst superpower.

She'd only stop when Ialtrae's gentle voice whispered small comforts...

Doe ran her fingers over the scar tissue on her bicep. How many suns had it been since meeting the golden-eyed Decanus?

"I should have just begged for death, then..." She whispered to herself.