Her arrival was forewarned by the onyx smog that collected above the spire. For a minute, the clouds churned and swelled, throbbing with green and violet lightning within the obscurity. Draco's heart beat in time with the erratic flashes. And then a wicked crack struck the spire, echoing deafeningly--and she appeared, a cascade of glimmering oil dropping wetly to the floor and rising again. Hair, shoulders, titanic elegance; like a curtain, the oil dripped away to reveal Lord Dhracia.

It was time to collect her second monstrosity.

@Vargas yo wassup picking up @V-Chaos-Four

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas had been expecting this particular visit.

Chaos-Four had been a purely custom design. Something for storms and darkness, for sea and stealth, though certainly capable of devastation. He had trained it, in those four cycles--but he worried and fretted that it had not been enough. Had Chaos-Four (Nightwing, Terror of Dark Skies--if one were to use Vargas's perhaps overreaching grand titles) learned enough in that time? Had it mastered air and sea; had it gotten a firm grip on its magic, and when and how to use it? The spars, the training, the quiet lessons, the explanation of how to fission--had it been enough?

His stress levels had risen in recent days. He hadn't made a third creation, yet--instead waiting to see if his Lord Dhracia had any specific demands, or requests. But one eye was kept always on the shadows, expecting her to appear and croon her sickly-sweet approval, or her cold and smiling disdain. And the latter might be... deadly, really, for Vargas and for this nest.

The lash of green lightning against the Black Spire left him veering toward it, staring up with--at first--puzzlement at what it might mean. But the figure taking shape from dripping Oil told him quickly enough: Lord Dhracia did like her entrances.

Vargas jerked his head to the left, calling out into the void-light of Draco. "CHAOS-FOUR," he bellowed--"NIGHTWING. Come!"

He'd told it, of course, that it would--in time--carve its own path. The question now remained; what would that path be-? Vargas would likely never know. Lord Dhracia would unleash another of His (and his) creations; and that would be that. It would sink and fail or viciously triumph on the basis of its own merits, and what it had learned here.

And let us hope it succeeds, the Leviathan thought grimly--its performance will reflect on us all.
But most of all, on Vargas.