Vargas glanced at Chaos-Two, but did not yet answer--in part because the explanation would take somewhat long and in part because Esther was once again speaking.

"That depends," he responded to the maned wolf, his answer booming. "What use would you be to us?" He didn't list the ways--not yet. He wanted to think what they thought of, themselves.

Everything was a test.

"If they are of use to us, Chaos-Two, then perhaps." A late answer, perhaps--but there it was. And then he gestured at it--a motion to wait. A motion not to speak. He did not doubt that V-Chaos-Two might have ideas of its own for Esther's use--and might not realize the test that Vargas was posing to them. It might wish to be helpful, and usurp this chance to test them through its own bright offering.

That, of course, would not do.

He studied Esther for a moment. Fighting skills-? The thing was... miniscule, compared to his monsters. He was blunt with his reply. "You would not hold up physically against my beasts. Magic--perhaps. It depends on your abiities, but we can train that. I will make it clear: we are a hierarchy. Disobedience is death."

A pause, stern, to let that sink in.

"This cave--all these caves--are the womb of Chaos itself. We forge monsters for the Creator's design, and we offer them for his use in destruction. You may aid us in this, perhaps, but I am a Master, with an Overseer, and our word is to be obeyed. As for the golem..." Vargas grunted, again eyeing Esther up and down. He was direct--to the point--and though none of his words held any hostility, they also brooked no argument. There was an assumed authority to his words that was so natural that it did not even reek of arrogance. He was a Master. A fact, like the existence of stars, or the cold of the void. "The golem was full of the creation of Order. Order is a crystalline thing: cold, unchanging, severe. Its creation is a fungus--one called 'Mother.' It converts the weak to its cause, to Order. And you may disregard the name!" he boomed, as if half-amused. "This 'mother' cares nothing for its spawn. It is merely a ploy to infiltrate Chaos' nest, and subvert it. Yet it is entrenched, here--in Ursa, and elsewhere--and part of our task will always be rooting it out, and destroying it."

Vargas paused here, waiting to see what Esther had to say--and he glanced, too, to V-Chaos-Two. He was unsure how much of this the creature actually knew, and how much might be new to it; he'd never bothered with it much, before.

Vargas glanced quizzically to V-Chaos-Two. "They can be affected. We all can. They are spores; likely this one did not breathe them in, or not enough," he reasoned. There had been plenty present who hadn't been affected, after all.

There was no time to grow complacent.

Head swivelled back to Esther.

"Then you would be welcome. Any who would serve the Creator are. Tell me one thing: how did you gain His magic, precisely? I have seen it in only one other of your generation. Tell me how it happened: and then I will bring you to my Overseer and it can take you from here."

Vargas stared.

He also glanced down, idly shaking free from Chaos-Two--if it fell, so be it; he wasn't its fucking pillow.

As for Esther, he was immediately gauging the maned wolf "probably stupid" in his mind, noting off the tickboxes: not entirely coherent (check), rambling story (check), nonsensical ('dark thing' of no description? absolutely check). He grimaced faintly, then immediately decided that this would no longer be his problem.

He had an Overseer for a reason, after all.

"Come," he told it. The Leviathan then pushed up, long strides carrying him toward the Black Spire and the Womb off to one side. "ORTHOCLASE-ALPHA?" he bellowed.