He'd heard the first call, and he felt both mild irritation and rising curiosity at the second. The voice was a strong one, and an unfamiliar one--but as he swept into view, long strides carrying him forward, he recognized at least its shape. And as he drew a little closer, he recognized the Gembound itself.

Dragon. Cetus, his memory supplised. Servant of Aquarian. Father of Imp and the creature known as Hunger. Grandfather of V-Chaos-One. The "Imp" part erected a wall of wariness in him: not fear, no, but awareness that the reptile might intend some ill-fated attempt at revenge.

His power as a Master--a power he had not held, the last time they had met--told him more. Told him things he hadn't seen in Cetus. It told him that Dragon's gemstone was a thick, broad scale at his chest. He recognized it as jasper, without even seeing it. And he felt the fire thrumming through it, a strong magic, stored and gathered over many cycles.

Nothing like what he had seen in his era, but compared to many now awakening throughout the caves, Vargas realized that Dragon was relatively old.

"Dragon. I am here," he said, bluntly, and came to an abrupt halt a few body lengths away. His tail twitched behind him, catlike, as he looked the alligator over. Thick, strong jaws. Nothing else to note, bar the magic, he decided. If they were in water, the creature might have had the ability to drag him under but here, on land? Dragon stood no chance if he attacked.

He waited, then, to see what he might want.

"Master Vargas," Vargas corrected at once, though there was no real feeling in it. More, he was preoccupied, curious. What was Dragon doing here..? What would the Cetus recluse, slave of Aquarian, want with him?

The congratulations didn't sit right with him. He wasn't sure why, but it somehow felt insincere. He felt, almost, like Dragon knew something he did not--but he was no mind-reader, so he tucked that thought aside and matter-of-factly took the reptile's remarks at face value. "Ascension would be more accurate," he answered, thinking, "but it is a promotion, too. I have been remade by the Creator." He was stiff, blunt, in his words. With the Forge perhaps he'd have been more open, more descriptive; but Dragon was not Forge. Perhaps if the alligator requested details, Vargas would give them but for now, he simply answered and moved on.

"I have time, for now; speak."

Vargas's many nostrils flared in a vast inhale, an exhale, as he waited. Dragon might have wasted no time in getting to his point but he seemed to dally on it.

Once he had laid it all out, Vargas's eyes narrowed. He tried to think, to remember.

One of Jupiter's-? I do not know if I know any of her soldiers. A rebel, seeking orders..? It seemed strange to him that anyone could have known of the rebellion, even taken part, without knowing which side they were on. But perhaps this was some mindless slave, lost without command.

"I cannot guarantee safety if I do not know more," he began, studying Dragon, "but I have no reason, from what you have so far told me, to seek this one out and cause it harm. I can tell you that Jupiter is dead," he added flatly. Dead, and not the sort of dead liable to spring back up at some later point.

Dead, shredded by a hundred tiny maws from the way he'd heard it told. An irony he was unsure if Dhracia was even aware of.

He shifted his position, staring down at the Gembound before him. "It does interest me, if only to know who has now awoken. But I cannot imagine that someone of the rebellion would not know what side they were on." It held his tone of puzzlement, and not of doubt.

They had either been remarkably stupid, remarkably loyal or astonishingly oblivious; perhaps, even, a little of all three.

Vargas's eyes narrowed at the name Eurydome, but not in accusation. It was a quick search of his memory, instead--a thoughtful stare that, for just a moment, looked through Dragon instead of at him.

"I remember her!" he exclaimed, without quite meaning to. And chastised himself, internally, for the outburst. He didn't quite clear his throat, but he did stiffen upward, moving on to reclaim his verbal dignity. "A good fighter, and an entertaining one. I was wondering how one might not know what side they were on, but with her-? I can believe it. She lived for combat, and I imagine she did little else until Jupiter took her to battle," he added. He hadn't ever seen Eurydome in the rebellion itself, but he'd frequented the arena enough to be quite familiar with its regulars. Eurydome, if he remembered right, had a mixture of two shapes he had come to respect: feline, and upright weapon-wielding humanoid. The two "new metas," really. And she had known, he recalled, how to play to a crowd.

He wondered if he could convince her to perhaps recruit for the Forge. Gaining support from an audience had been, outside battle itself, perhaps her strongest point, and she hadn't shied from bloodshed.

"I will not harm her, if all is as you say. If you send her to me I will speak to her about orders, and purpose; and if you prefer I will tell her what happened to her Master. I will need to explain to her... more about the rebellion. But I think I could find a use for her," he finished.

The question was so far out of left field that Vargas nearly reeled, more from amusement and surprise than any form of shock. His snort was deep, chest-deep, a huff of air that came out bass.

"Imp, you mean. First: I was Overseer, then, and obeyed Nemean, yes. But now more of her actions have become known to me; our relationship is... tentative. At best." He did not chide the alligator for asking, even for his bluntness; Vargas had nothing to hide and Dragon was not being particularly demanding. Just... honest, and he could accept this, provided there was no real disrespect.

"As for the creature itself-? Your child?" (And here, some side-part of Vargas's ever-calculating mind remembered something, ticked it off to address in a moment.) "It is admirable that it is a Champion, not once but twice and once blind. Your design, or his, or both, must be quite worth using. But he was found creating disrespectful mockeries throughout the cave, across the walls--graffiti--of Nemean. You may not know her well but her vanity is... larger than she is," he said, and if he could have grinned... "Suffice to say she did not approve of a thousand drawings of her covered in genitalia." He fixed Dragon with a level stare. "Imp is lucky that only its eyes were taken. I expected an execution that day. Nemean has her vices but in this, she was merciful." And that was truth; he'd fully expected her to have him tear out Imp's throat, rather than his eyes.

"In time perhaps the creature can earn new eyes through service, but until it learns to show respect, I have my doubts. I do not hate it," he added, eyeing Dragon curiously. "I admire its fire, if not its stupidity. But this reminds me of something. I have answered your questions: now you will answer one of mine. Related, I think. Some time ago I created a spawn with the one known as Hunger. This spawn has been... very like Imp, I think. Completely intractable. Wild. Fierce. It flaunts authority, tests every limit. I have been utterly unable to train it. What do you recommend?"

Dragon would know his own bloodline better than Vargas would--and this, too, would test the alligator's willingness to cooperate.