Totum had been helping with this one... and thank the Creator that they had. It was hard work; the specifications had been more specific than usual, and it was three creatures instead of the usual one. Vargas was weary with the labor of it.

That wasn't all, either. Others were already being formed, his work and theirs, somewhat split between the jagged honeycomb hollows at the Womb and the Chaos-free length of Tunnel G.

The Leviathan kept his thoughts on all this to himself. He'd have to address the Chaos Forge soon enough, but... he was still deciding what to say. Those who knew him might assume him to be busy. Those who knew him best might recognize his terse avoidance as something more. It almost seemed like Master Vargas was... troubled.

And he was harried, to be sure.

Whatever it was that he was doing, it was very much out of his usual purview, and had put him very much off his stride.

He looked over his work so far.

The first: the sickly pale lilac equine, its curved horn a mockery of ancient myth. What looked like a delicate and gentle creature at first glance could split that jaw, lengthwise and width-wise both, a gaping maw filled with jagged fangs. The sharp cloven hooves at the hind feet were mirrored by dual claws at the front, meant for hooking in and ripping flesh. Quills lay hidden in the plush fur of the tail, a tail built like a savage whip. It was a thing of beautiful cruelty.

The second: amphibious, bulky, its thick flesh rubbery and wet along its underside, an armored and segmented violet-magenta shell lining its back. Four suction-toed feet with sharp talons provided locomotion, and a second, muscled pair of forelimbs, two hook claws not unlike those of the first creation's. A broad, strong jaw and a sticky tongue ensured that smaller prey would not escape, and larger prey would find this beast no easy opponent.

The third: the largest, but lighter-built than creation two. This one was lanky, tall, walking on short well-muscled hind legs and oversized, quill-tipped wings. A long, thick paddle tail was studded likewise with stiff, stabbing quills; the heron-like neck ended in an entire stabbing face not unlike a bird's skull, gleaming with Chaotic light.

And these three were only the beginning. Who knew how many volunteers this task might gain. How many of the Forge... might leave the caves entirely. Might perish Elsewhere, and never return.

Vargas didn't like to think of it.