ORIGIN

Chaos-Two's nightmares started the exact same way. With pain.

It felt like someone had shoved a hot wire up their spine. Before Vargas had so mercifully fixed them, nights like these were a reality, when the rain caused their hips and disformed rear end to ache, the raw, grinding bones hurting and hurting until they simply couldn't move. Those days they hid away from Vargas, from the others, not wanting them to see their weakness.

This was where the dreams usually ended. Pain, the fear of being caught and killed, a lingering anxiety that had only been amplified by Vargas' admittance that he hadn't kept Chaos-Two out of some sort of mercy but of horror for what he'd done. Out of selfishness.

This time was different. Anyone near would see Chaos-Two twitching and whining softly, their torment apparent.

Draconua loomed, teeth gnashing, oil dripping from between slick-stained teeth. Beady eyes rolled in their sockets as she reared and thrashed, the ground erupting beneath her.

Chaos-Two could do nothing as they desperately tried to run, their hind legs just as useless as they'd been when they were younger. But the dream didn't have the mercy to take their sight away, it seemed, because they were forced to watch as the Sleepless Chaos descended, her jaws opened so wide they split all the way down her neck, exposing rows of jagged, crooked teeth.

Oil exploded from her maw and drenched them, and it was their mistake as they gasped, the substance getting up their nose, in their eyes, even in their mouth. But no, their torture wasn't over, not yet.

Teeth grabbed them and dug into soft fur, tearing it away and ignoring their agonized screams. She choked them down, blood filling her mouth as quills and claws alike dug into the soft flesh of her mouth, but of course that didn't bother her. Pain was an old friend to Draconua and she was a masochist of the highest order. Pain? Oh she relished in it.

And then Chaos-Two was falling. Falling and falling, the pool of liquid corruption that loomed in the pit of Draconua's stomach rising up to meet them, lifting up great hands to catch them and grip so tightly that the breath was forced from their lungs. Their screams only increased in value as their skin was melted away, every inch of them joining the pool of what had to be thousands of other gembounds stuck within it too.

They saw Sentinel there, a small puppy slowly sinking to the bottom, engulfed by it. Vedette, thrashing and screaming, only making it worse as she became more and more stuck, entangled in it like a fly in a spider's web. Esther. Vjira. Chaos-Four. Dying or already dead.

Chaos-Two's screams disappeared as they went under, everything that was pure and bright being stripped, happiness turning to misery, kindness twisted into hatred, and Khavur...

Throat torn out, Vargas looming over with a hand on Chaos-Two's ugly, distorted shoulder.

"I'm proud of you," he said, and finally Chaos-Two could see themselves reflected in the blood pooling on the ground.

Oil dripped from their eyes, their nose, their mouth. Soft, tawny fur was falling out and their features were sharper, their bones stark against pale skin. But one thing didn't change. It never did.

They still had Vargas' eyes.

A shriek left Chaos-Two's mouth as sobs wracked their body, their head flying up so fast that it smacked against the top of the little nook they'd made their nest in. They flinched and thrashed, clawing at the basin of their bed as they shoved themselves into the smallest corner of their hidey-hole, unable to catch their breath, the whispers and screams flooding in while they were weak.

"H-help me...", they gasped, the touch of chaos feeling more like a hand gripping their heart and squeezing.

They were dying, they knew it. They were slowly fading away... the day had finally come.

Chaos-Two twitched from the phantom pains and the feeling of oil dripping down their back. They had called out for Khavur accidentally, but someone else had come.

Immediately they flinched, terrified it was someone like Cain or Vargas, here to ridicule their weakness. They were afraid to look as Aurelia spoke her concern, their form trembling as they fought down their panic.

"N-no one hurt me," they sniffled, their tail tucked between their legs as they quickly wiped their tears, risking a glance.

The new valkhound that Overseer Cain had brought. They recognized her. Immediately they relaxed, just a little, hoping that she wasn't like the others, that she might forgive them for this moment.

"It's just a dream," they whispered, mostly to themselves to try and calm their churning stomach, "I-I didn't catch your name at the meeting."

They could smell the taint of corruption on Aurelia. They knew it well, for it was the smell of Draconua, of Vedette, of the Black Spire. Of oil-slicked teeth crunching down on bone, cracking and splitting. Of violence and death and decay.

It was strange that Aurelia was acting rather... sane. Kind, even. Asking if Chaos-Two needed help, a phrase that made just the tiniest bit of hope well up in their chest.

Chaos-Two looked unhappy as they shook their head, "A nightmare. A bad dream. But I don't know how you could help unless you somehow managed to get into my head and took them away."

They looked over at Aurelia as she moved closer and hoped she didn't crawl into their nest. Either they'd become extremely upset or immediately adopt her as their own and they didn't know which was worse. Aurelia was... well, a child. And they had a bad habit of getting attached.

"I am," they said, looking away in shame, knowing how she got that name, "... I'm surprised you're at all willing to even be in my presence after what Master Vargas said about me."

Why did Aurelia care? Was she simply too naive to stay away from weakness like the plague? Like everyone else (except Khavur) seemed to?

Chaos-Two shrugged gently, "Weakness is discouraged among the Chaos Forge. I was... I was so terribly frightened by Draconua that I just... ran away. That is why Vargas used me as an example. That is all I am, an example of what not to be."

Bitterness welled up and they wiped their eyes again, curling up in a tight ball in their nest, sniffling, "... I will help garden, but I am meant to become a medic. A healer."

They looked over at Aurelia and wished that she'd never been brought there, that she could have run far away the second she could. Tears came unbidden again and he shuffled over, patting the space next to them.

"Come," they said softly, "My nest is large for a reason."

Mostly because they and Khavur often snuggled together on restless nights, or when it became cold. Or whenever they wanted, really.

"You're kind," they said softly, sadly, "I fear for you. I fear that your kindness will get you hurt. I'm sorry."

This child should not have to think of all of these things. She should have been allowed to be a child. The Forge was no place for children.

Chaos-Two shuddered at the contact, having only had the kind touch of Khavur to sate their need for touch, for affection. But Khavur could not be around all the time, and so they often found themselves itching for a touch, and unfortunately that often drew them to Vargas, their only other stable connection.

"... Family," they said, choking up, "I-I... yes. We're not failures."

They were attached, securely and firmly. Not good, but... what could Chaos-Two do? Aurelia was only a child seeking affection, and even better was the fact that she was offering it back. She wasn't like Vedette and Sentinel, monsters in smaller, cuter bodies.

So Chaos-Two opened their heart cautiously and snuggled closer, setting their head on Aurelia's neck, showing their horns to the outside of the nest in case anyone decided to interrupt them. A warning.

"I will do my best to protect you," they said softly, daring to stroke their hands along smooth skin. A promise not made idly. Chaos-Two had lodged Aurelia firmly on their list of 'to die for'.

"Thank you," they said softly, getting out one last sniffle, "The Forge needs more kindness, I think. But sleep well, Aurelia."

They closed their eyes and settled down, more comfortable now. They felt... they felt okay, actually. The voices no longer whispered and everything was so... quiet.