ORIGIN - the crowd, they gather on the street, and they want blood

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There was no way to know how long it had been. It had woken, half buried in snow, and clawed its way to life, blood pumping, heart screaming, limbs hot but turning cold, cold, cold. It staggered out of Ursa, shuttering, and didn't stop until the air turned a familiar warmth of Cepheus's voidlights. It could not, would not, dig a burrow in Leo to hide in until it's shame subsided. It didn't know how long it had been.

All of the scents on its tongue felt foreign. All of the creatures it grasped for felt strange: the nest of flying pitch rats that it remembered brooding in the tunnel between Ursa and Cepheus was stale and empty. The damn things didn't live especially long, and maybe some idiot had disturbed them...

But Cain could not shake the horrible sensation that it had been gone for eons. That its life, as long as it had been, was suddenly dwarfed by the length of its absence. Even if it had only been a fraction of that time, the very concept was agonizing. It had abandoned its post. It had slipped into sleep. It had become something it had hated in so many other gembounds, a thing that it thought itself better than.

It had failed.

Exhaustion was hitting it hard even as it flew on easy breezes across Pegasus's open fields, craning its way toward its home. It landed and stumbled into the doorway of its home, barely able to stand the new and different scents that plagued the gateway. It prowled past the entrance into Draco, ignoring any that might look upon it and gawk or wonder.

The garnet folded its wings, ears angled backward and crimson eyes peering toward the Black Spire. It had often kept a safe distance from it and the unpredictable nature of Draconua and the pure essence of chaos. For a long, deep moment, it sank in the view of the Spire, and considered if its life was more useful being turned into mulch for the bed of Chaos.

It was a thought it pried itself away from with force, glancing instead toward its den. It would have to investigate and see what had been disturbed--

But not yet. It needed, firstly, to make a report. Bile burned at the back of its throat. It reached for its magic, and found its ability faltering. A prickle crawled up the back of its neck. How weak have you become? It's thoughts hissed.

"Master Vargas?" It spoke with a voice that croaked, a mewl that barely came from its dry, aching throat. "Master Vargas!" The cry, more of a yowl, nothing more than a kitten looking for its mother.

It should have just stayed dead in its stone.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas hadn't known exactly what had happened. Cain had been sent to try and assassinate one of the Hive; it'd been ordered to check in frequently, and it had... stopped doing that. He'd eventually located its chrysalis, and checked on it now and then himself, but to his confusion there'd been no sign of a battle. He was still worried about that: had an assassin assassinated his assassin..?

Worrying.

But truth be told he had more on his plate these days. Cain was a sidenote, a concern but one that he had to set aside for more pressing matters--and gradually, his hope that it would emerge any time soon had faded. It wasn't that he didn't think about it: he did. But it was mostly in the context of, "I wish this Chaos Forge member were half as useful as Overseer Cain."

Overseer seemed a cursed title, in the Forge.

All of these musings were brought tumbling back when Vargas heard that distant call. He turned, thrilled for the first time in... a very long time. How long had it been-? He found himself striding swiftly in that direction, damn near breaking into a run. "Overseer Cain-? I am here," he called, his voice a bellow that carried.

@Cain

Cain felt a swell of emotion as Master Vargas came running. It nearly pushed down the shame, instead flooding its senses with... Pity? Self-pity? It had never wanted to cry before. Not out of emotion. Perhaps pain could bring wetness to its eyes, or dust in the wind, but not... not... not feeling. It couldn't remember ever having this sensation before, and it nearly overwhelmed it.

Its tail puffed to bristles and tucked between its haunches, its brilliant red eyes peering out through a mask that had been broken. Whiskers trembled, claws scraped the stone. The only mercy was that it did not see its own reflection.

Moreover, with a bit of forceful shoving, the shame quickly came back up over the lip and drowned out any warm-fuzzy-sensations it most certainly had not earned. It held its head high as Master Vargas approached, and then promptly bowed its head as Master Vargas drew in to a stop.

"Master," it spoke, gritting its teeth. "... I... I have no excuse." Yes, shame and anger. It could use these two emotions, to sharpen itself back to something better. Something worth being called Overseer.

It needed to know. "How long has my absence been?" It needed to know how many cycles it would have to work without rest to recover from its blunder.

There was more it wanted to ask. For now, it held its tongue. It knew itself a child, a foolish gembound no different than its brood. No different than Scion or the other Garnet or... Or Alpha. Oh, the Orthoclase. It was no different. It was the same as the cat its magic was bred from, the very one who had died in the sands of Hydra. It would wait for its answer, its punishment, its fate, and accept it with the only grace it could offer: bravery.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas stared for a beat, nonplussed. He'd slowed upon sighting his Overseer, but... this was not what he'd expected. He wondered, for a moment--worried, even--that this was fear. He did not want Cain, of all the creatures of the Forge, to fear him--but more worrying was the idea that it might already. On impulse, he pushed out briefly with the power that the little trinket at his ear had granted him.

What he got was... shame? Upset? He slid the magic away and shook his head, nothing but puzzled. "I know you well enough that you would not have abandoned the Forge deliberately," Vargas replied, blunt as ever and equally confused. "You have been absent..." and he glanced off at a wall. He was calculating, in his mind, but likely he looked as though he were searching for a calendar, or a clock, where there was none. Then he looked back to Cain. "...A year? Two? You may report," he added. That was an invitation to explain just where the hell it had been, though he doubted it was anything resembling incompetence.

Cain was anything but that.

@Cain

No, it had not been deliberate... But it was still a failing. Something that it had never done before, something it had thought itself better than.

A year or two. Last it had lived and breathed, Cain had been... What, three years old? Indeed, it had been nearly an entire lifetime.

It was likely small to Master Vargas. It was all Cain had ever known. This-- this was the difference between them.

But it had returned. And the Leviathan gave it an order, or, an instruction. An offer, at least. Direction. It seized it with force, eyes turning upward.

"Of course," it spoke, words coming easier now that it had begun to wet its throat. "I had gone to begin my reconnaissance, and had found a good location to watch and use my magic to further explore. I had borrowed the body of a mountain sparrow to get closer to the Hive's tunnels without threat to myself and sought the white dragon..."

The magic hadn't lasted. It had to give up the hunt after a short period, and rest, and once it had rested, it could continue again.

"My first search had been... fruitless," as expected. It would take several tries, several patient steps closer... "I returned to myself and... I was tired. I thought to rest, for a moment, in the snow. Then I would continue to hunt." It hardly remembered the haze. "... I didn't feel cold. I just felt tired."

It should have been stronger. It should have known better.

"... I don't remember," it said, earnest in its factual, no-nonsense-report, "anything but falling asleep."

For once, it did not reach for its magic to know where Master Vargas's judgement would lead. It simply offered its report, plainly, and cleared its mind of all expectations.

Its trust laid solely upon the razor's claw of its Master's ancient and vast knowledge. It would accept what it was told. It would do better.

It had to do better!

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas was puzzled, for a moment. He shook his head a little. Poison? No-... it sounded more like magical exhaustion. "Did you tax yourself overmuch? That magic--to exchange bodies, it is intense, yes?" Was that all that had happened?

Or-...

"...Or did you forget to keep yourself warm? -Your own body?" Vargas looked suddenly... troubled? It was difficult to tell past his rigid facial hide, but the way his brow drew ever-so-slightly down indicated something had occurred to him. Something beyond his simple question. "I will bring you up-to-date in a moment, of course," he added, but that troubled expression did not fade.

@Cain

Did it overtax itself? The thought was ridiculous. It knew its magical limits-- at least, it thought it had, back before falling dormant for two entire years-- and would never push itself beyond on such a crucial mission. Surely it couldn't have been a magical failing, of all things, not when Cain was a transcended master of its element.

The second question was more troubling. Cain had fur, surely, and... Thinking upon it, it had not felt cold. It tried to rationalize what had happened and found its mind blanking.

"I did not feel cold then," it repeated, ignorant of the effects of hypothermia. "My chrysalis was freezing when I awoke. I-- I got out of Ursa as soon as I awoke, because the cold was so overwhelming."

Surely it would have noticed its own body growing cold. It had felt perfectly warm, perhaps too warm, when it slipped away into slumber.

It hesitated.

"... I do not know what happened. I..." Its ears flattened, its claws digging into the stone. It raised its chin higher, and looked upon Vargas's expression. It wanted to know what Vargas was thinking, and in the same breath knew it had no right to that knowledge.

"There is a weakness in myself that I have missed," Cain said, "My plan lead to failure." Plan to never fail. Always have a perfect plan. A plan that is ninety-nine percent perfect will kill you one percent of the time.

"I.." A deep breath, eyes closing. "Failed."

It did not fear Master Vargas's response. There was, however, a great agony that blossomed in its chest at the admission. Shame and anger was not enough to keep this particular pain at bay as it strobed at pace with its own heartbeat. It felt nigh insurmountable in that moment.

Its Master would know what to do.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

That troubled expession lingered as Vargas listened, but when Cain had finished, he shook his head abruptly and grunted. "I hope you are right in that it was not the cold. I would feel a fool, then. I located your chrysalis and checked it periodically, and it did not even occur to me to take steps to warm it." The source, then, of his concern--laid bare. "That would have been an idiotic failure. But I suppose enough chrysalises survive Ursa--yours did, in the end, and for that I am pleased."

His gaze swung down, peering at Cain for a beat. His tone took on a slightly more reproachful note. "Nevertheless, I believe I have made it clear that 'failure' applies only to lack of intent. So long as you did not decide to deliberately disregard orders and take a very long nap, my only concern is finding out what happened so that it does not strike again." One massive forelimb came up, simply to wave the entire thing away. "Be aware that all of us--the Masters, everyone--simply fell asleep for... centuries, millennia. I do not know, but long enough that the last we were awake, the Throne was shining red stone. Long enough for rock to crumble. That was... a fading of magic, I think." He pondered this for a moment. Maybe it was just that; a fading of magicka, either localized or within Cain itself. Or maybe the Hive had done something-... No; if they'd known where the chrysalis was, they'd undoubtedly have done more to either destroy or convert his Overseer.

"If one of those you Oversee falls into slumber, I expect you to treat them the same way: if it was not deliberate, they are not to be punished. It happens," Vargas finished. "You may make up for your absence starting now... are you ready to get to work?"

@Cain

Cain listened attentively as Master Vargas spoke, hanging on every word. There was a silver lining: it had survived, in the end. It had survived. It still breathed. The sharpness digging into its chest was a confimation: it lived yet.

... And then, Vargas looked down upon his Overseer, and his voice shifted. Here was where the Master would speak to what it could change and improve, what training it needed to--

Cain's ear twitched as it listened. This... Occurance was something that simply happened, at times. It had happened to Master Vargas-- something the Overseer had known deep down, but had ignored as something of the "before times"-- and the rest of the Masters. For a time as long as they had probably lived before, a millennia of wakefulness followed by a millennia of slumber. It was something that Cain considered, mulling over with a look of thoughtfulness that seemed to pull it away from its despair at long last.

It took the words to heart, the instructions embedding themself deep within its mind. It would remember this. "I would never want to abandon my duty," Cain said firmly, something that it believed they both knew, but felt needed to be said regardless. "Being your Overseer is my greatest accomplishment, Master Vargas. It is all I have ever wanted for." It would not let a single ounce of doubt creep into their relationship.

With that, Overseer Cain sniffed and retracted its claws, ears raising to their upright, attentive position, and it shook out its wings to appear more composed.

To be certain, it reached for its magic again, opening its senses. Master Vargas's heartbeat thrum before it, and the pulses of other gembound, valkhound, forge members it knew and others it did not-- spread out around its awareness.

"I am ready," it declared, dismissing those foolish emotions as nothing more than inexperience.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas nodded once. He didn't speak his mind on what Cain had said. Not only that: he tamped down his emotions on it. He knew the hybrid's element, after all. He wasn't sure if it was actively using the same sort of magic he was now capable of... but for it to sense how he felt in that moment would have devastated it. And that would not be fair.

Because Master Vargas heard its dedication--the fact that all it had ever wanted was to serve--and it felt... sad. He felt sad. It was what others might have crueller names for, and he didn't dwell on it, just in case. But--did it not aim for greater things..? Perhaps it did. It wished to see this Nest succeed. Didn't it-? Or was it just... a need to be acknowledged? To contribute, to-... Oh, that was a rabbithole--no mockery intended. Vargas tamped that thought down before that could be picked at, either--by Cain or by him--and addressed the topic at hand. But that faint sadness remained, despite his genuine appreciation for both Cain's loyalty and service.

"I know that. And it is good that you are ready, as there is much happening. The Hive infestations in the various caves are nearly completely cleansed. I am struggling to deal with another rebellious spawn. I still do not have a competent, trained scout. There is a new cave open, one which cycles its contents each--cycle--" (awkward) "and Archon--V-Onyx-Two, if it had not yet earned the name--is its emissary. -Was Andromeda open, when last you were awake? -Cassiopeia?" -And the rest of them, but since they'd opened all at once, he'd leave the rest unspoken and explain only if it were needed. He could not quite remember how long it had been, or when Cain had fallen into hibernation in relation to it all. "Another of the old Overseers has awoken, if she was not yet awake? Nemean was punished for her betrayal, and has returned." Maybe it had known that, too. Maybe it hadn't been as long as Vargas thought.

After living for so long, it all started to blur together, even with a mind as keen as his.

@Cain

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