“Perfect this design.”

This was his command. To be the architect of an ender-of-worlds; one creature that resembled the other, but with his stone, his magic, and perfection.

To this end, he had sent Alpha (whose blood had stained the sands, and Vargas tried not to look at that because he could not take it back; and even if he could have, he should not have, better wounded than dead, better punished than made an example of)-... He had sent Alpha to retrieve the rest. He waited for them, now; he could not risk the dragons turning up unchallenged, and killing the human and the hybrid before he had gotten a chance to work. He had, as an afterthought, realized that it would be best if other Masters were present to defend Lord Dhracia's plans, but he had not thought to ask Orthoclase-Alpha for that (a failing, perhaps; or would Astraea try to sabotage his work? He did not know--he doubted it, but the politics between the others were as yet beyond him). He could only hope that nothing interrupted his plans. Her plans.

He began by ensuring both of them were healthy, and would not die: Doctor's doing, that. The vulture had checked them over, and suggested dehydration; water had been provided. Now he'd commanded the child to sit, somewhere near the vulture, a little out of the way--but certainly not out of sight, no; he couldn't risk that--whilst he paraded the human woman up and down.

At times he watched her move, studying the fluidity of her limbs, the joints; at other times he paced alongside her, observing the way her weight distributed, the way she moved her head, her eyes, how her vision functioned as she walked. Studious, with sharp attention to every detail and the flawless Overseer's memory he had been designed with, he watched. He took her limbs in hand, gently, carefully, and moved them: flexing them, pressing them to see how far they would bend--not painful, no; but he required some idea of their range of movement. The human woman--her designation, apparently, was the name 'Beatris'--had proven reticent, reluctant to speak, though her protectiveness toward the girl was clear. The nameless hybrid Vargas had declared Subject Two, and ensured that her health would be Doctor's top priority, for the time being. (After he had looked over Alpha, of course.)

He questioned Beatris. He tested her intelligence, her method of speech, her tone, the patterns of the movement of her tongue. He memorized the little gestures; the lift of a hand here, the aversion of her eyes there, the sweeping back of a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. His attention was rapt on her, solemn and sharp, as he asked her questions.

"Tell me of the surface above."

She spoke, haltingly, reluctantly, afraid and perhaps resentful: she spoke of the soft earth and the open air, of trees, of sunlight, of settlements. But she did not go into detail and, when he pressed, told him with trembling fear that "she" had told her "not to say too much, or she'll know and come kill me..." Vargas wondered, at this; why would Lord Dhracia defend knowledge of the world above, against him? That was... puzzling.

"Do you know why you? Why she selected you, of all of them? Hm? Speak up," he had added, when she did not immediately respond.

The truth, it seemed, was that she did not know. His Lord had simply appeared to her, predatory and sleek and full of sparking, evil grace, and swept her from her home, her world.

He had her, now, running: racing the length of the tunnel, or part of it, at least; and then back. She was gasping for breath, near to sobbing--he would not kill her, but he wanted an idea of her endurance, the way she ran, how she steadied herself every time she stumbled, how the stumbles were growing more and more frequent...

Vargas watched.

Thoughts were simple enough: he was taking notes.

Emotions were another matter.

The dull regret, the pain, that had come from striking Alpha still rocked him. He would not gain that one back; he could not regain its loyalty, its faith, which it had always granted him. He had to push past that and focus on his work.

Lord Dhracia would kill them all, if he failed. Every wretched beast within this cave. All of his creations children and he had only one chance, at this. Or, at least, he assumed that was all he'd be allowed.

But he could not think about this. He had to focus on his work.

And he had to kill this one--this one racing past him again, a sob catching in her throat as she fell, her breaths too fast to count. He had to kill it; it would not see its home again. That was not so unusual--there were many, he had killed. Too many to count--a number beyond numbers, and he had often enjoyed it. No, not the kill. That was but a satisfying conclusion: a knowledge I had done my job properly. Smoothly. With grace, efficiency. No; the joy was in the hunt, and this is no hunt. There is no sport in this. Six eyes narrowed slightly, and the Overseer--no, the Master, the Leviathan--stepped forward, one arm snapping up, the human landing in the crook of it.

He had to focus-...

She looked to him, but there was nothing to see: only the lifeless stare, six toxic eyes and too many nostrils, as he set her back onto his feet.

"Sit down," he told her, his voice quietly rough, and then he looked back up the tunnel; then to the hybrid, Subject Two.

Was this the world he had helped built-? A question that had already struck him several times, since his Lord's departure. It was... what he had wanted; what he had always wanted, what he had taken joy in.

He had everything he had ever wished for, and yet it was beginning to feel hollow, now.

I will make it sleek. Tall and slender, ethereal--or I will try to; long and golden hair, and golden eyes to match. Perhaps too like Tamulus, but that is what she wanted, I presume-? She will want it with my thirsts, the appetites with which they created me-...

Vargas paused in his thoughts, eyeing Two. Only a child, alone, afraid, destined for death at his hands.

This was the world they would build.

He was to make her an ender-of-worlds. A creature of destruction, of entropic madness. She would have a hunger for destruction, subterfuge, decimation, and betrayal...

...But perhaps a tiny spark of something else would not be so bad.

Inspiration struck him, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the girl, a new fire igniting in his chest. A decision was made, in that moment: one that Vargas hesitated on only briefly, wondering if he would have the strength to push through with it, the courage to face what might come. To turn against everything he had fought for, every dutiful slash of claws through flesh, every obedient tightening of jaws on throat. To step down from the altar upon which he could settle himself. To look away from those terrible, wonderful chartreuse eyes that had approved of him. To give up all that he had, and all that he had achieved, and risk it all on a single gamble.

Perhaps it was against his design--or perhaps not. Vargas was a creature of survival, above all else--and the strength to ensure it. He had been created, after all, to test. If he would do this, he would do it right; if they were as powerful as they claimed to be, then they would win. If not--well, they would not.

They would see which world was left, then.

"Subject Two," Vargas began, tone measured, gaze steady: "I would like to ask you some questions, now."

Though marked PRV, this thread is open to any SoS that would like to join.

@Orthoclase-Alpha @Two @Garnet-Delta @One

Master Vargas.

Garnet-Delta was worried, as much as it tried not to be, that it was slipping away into irrelevance. Its experience and age was lending it to wit, tact, and brutal, cruel understanding of its place in a way it had not known as a child. If it was to be irrelevant, then that was its fate. Still, it rebelled. An rebellion was a dangerous thing; one that it kept close to its chest.

Overseer Alpha, was another. It had found out second hand about Alpha, through Ruby-Beta of all things, and shortly thereafter, the Orthoclase had summoned it for the Master. It had tried (and it had failed) to grasp at Alpha's mind, tongue thick with jealous, coppery bile. Even as a child, it had known this would happen. Still, it rebelled. The notion was difficult to click into its mind. It kept all of this tucked away, deep down into the core of its heart.

It needed to do as it was told to retain any amount of relevancy. It needed to be useful. Its envy and arrogance would not get it anywhere but further and further still from its goal.

Garnet-Delta swept through the adit, down into the den of the warrens where the doctor had set up his things to be tested. The cat-alien fluttered up on to a ledge, out of the way, piercing red eyes watching the scene unfold. If its Master, if Vargas looked to it, it would lower its head and blink slowly, acknowledging the glance without interrupting.

There were two creatures; it did not get the name of the first, but after hearing Vargas address the second as Subject Two, it labeled the other thusly as Subject One. They both reminded it (as they had Alpha) of the upright, purple family in Eridanus, which it had only seen once before, and of Dip. Humanoid-shaped. It listened, tall ears craning forward, as it tried to decipher what Vargas was doing. Testing, it thought, tail tip twitching. He's examining their movements, flexibility-- testing them. For what? But its thoughts were short, as it focused instead on observing. It attempted to use its magic to see in greater detail, but quickly found that a distraction too. Focus. How would it take them down, kill them if need be? After all, if they were prisoners-- test subjects-- if they were to get loose while Master Vargas was doing something important... Perhaps that was a use it could hold itself to.

It tried not to think about the gash across Alpha's face, nor the fact its mind had been closed off, refusing to let it in. That was not its place to question.

The Overseer, had been running on autopilot for longer than usual. Shortly after having grasses woven through its wounds, it trudged through the caves in search of the various beasts they'd gathered or made. Each one for sure could see that its eyes were almost dim; an emotional sort of weariness crept over it, as well as a tightly-closed lead curtain that not even Garnet-Delta - in all its prying - could peel back through magic. They would get past this, then it planned to go through the caves for a time. Find somewhere quiet - maybe sleep much like the ruby had.

No, that was asking for more punishment.

It went to Orion, practically hauling the other Vargas-spawn with possibly more roughness than necessary. A low, simmering anger - frustration? had it lurching towards Beta when it didn't get up fast enough, teeth catching and pulling. Not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to show the wild desperation swimming through Alpha.

Then, it returned to Tunnel P, gathered the smaller Creatures along the way - even Bloodstone, still fresh and likely incapable of combating a dragon if they should arrive. Delta had already gone inside, but it ordered Epsilon - if it came - and Hemlocke to alternate on air patrol (it'd felt strange, too, to have the ability to command.) Sheer numbers would hopefully be a good enough deterrent. Alpha sat by the entrance (far as possible from Beta, if it followed,) ramrod-straight despite its deep-seated weariness, and scanned up and down the corridor, keeping count of life signs in the cave.

Magic backfired, as it usually did, from the lack of focus, and sent a lancing pain through the back of its skull and aggravated its sinuses. A minuscule trickle of blood dribbled from one nostril, and it sagged somewhat, but remained stalwart.

It wasn't ready to come back. Maybe out of a desperation to get more training in before it reported to Master Vargas, maybe to take one more nap before it knew that it would have to work, work more, and work even more for whatever he was planning, or maybe because it was enjoying its freedom just a little bit too much. Freedom to do whatever it wanted, train when it wanted and at whatever pace, sleep and eat as much as it desired, and say whatever was on its mind, about the Overseer, about the Sentinels, about its life, whatever. It was nice...but it knew that it would all have to end soon. At some point, it would have to return and face its punishment for being gone for so long. Because no matter what, they would find it...and it would suffer more the longer it took.

But when Alpha had come to retrieve it, to take it back to the tunnel, something was wrong. Or different, perhaps both. Fresh wounds on its face and a sort of emptiness in its eyes had alerted Beta that this wasn't an ordinary summons, but still, it had attempted to resist, as it always did, trying to take as long as it could to get out of its nest. It wasn't a stranger to being dragged out of its nest by the orthoclase, but the desperate tugging and the hurried push back to the nest had Beta questioning just what was going on. It wasn't its business - it was a tool for Master Vargas, a tool meant to do what was commanded without questions, but it couldn't help but wonder, especially when it returned to the tunnel to see the Master standing over two...things. It had never seen anything like them before and the interest that Vargas had for them was as fascinating as it was frustrating.

Subject Two. Test subjects? For the vulture, perhaps, but why? What were they for? Beta was confused. Alpha had said something about protecting something, but protecting them? What was so important, so special about them? The orthoclase was avoiding it - why? What could it have done to piss it off? It wasn't petty enough to still be upset about its faint resistance. Something here was, quite simply, wrong.

It glanced over at Garnet-Delta, who, it guessed, was just as confused, but not asking questions. At Alpha, far away, guarding the tunnel. At the others that had gathered to help. It was just confused. This was not what it had been expecting, or how it had planned to return.

So it just turned around with its back to Vargas. If he had an intention of telling Beta what he was doing, then he would do so - it would not push its luck by asking personally. It sat back on its haunches and cast its senses around, to keep watch on any potential enemies that would dare to approach.

Bloodstone had tried their best to keep up with Alpha as they made their way through the caves, struggling to keep up with the goliath. They were still only about the size of a cat, and they desperately hoped a growth spurt would arrive sooner rather than later. Trying to run after something who's steps were twice the size of a single one of your lope strides was a bit tedious.

They finally stopped, giving Bloodstone the opportunity to catch their breath before valiantly standing beside Alpha, heads held up high and feet planted on the ground. They occasionally looked to Alpha, not concerned about the wounds, just curious (okay maybe they were a bit worried). Condemn especially kept sneaking glances, wondering what had happened, who had done it, and if they should be worried about that.

After a while Bloodstone sat down and entertained themselves by rolling a rock around in the dirt, one head always on alert while the others paid attention to the rock, watching it roll, inspecting the grooves on it. It helped stave off the boredom.

One had made himself hidden as soon as Vargas had arrived. Not wanting to get in the way, and very wary of the beast, he had chosen a corner to sit, and watch. He curled in, almost defensively, on his 'broken' side, watching with an even mix of curiosity and fear.

The first thing he noticed were the two new creatures. Both were upright, and looked similar, except the smaller one was distinctly canine- perhaps a hybrid from the older one? It quickly became obvious why they were here.

Test subjects. Much like him.

The smaller one even had a name much like his- Subject Two.

The smaller one- the hybrid- sat nearby. She looked terrified- as did the older one. He felt a surge of pity for both.

The older one- already with a name, Beatris, was being questioned and looked at and inspected all over. This intrigued him. Sometimes the Doctor inspected his injured legs- making him walk and observing his gait, testing for pain, range of movement, how the bone had healed. The Master, however, was inspecting everything about this creature. This made him curious as much as it made him dread.

He listened the best he could, to Vargas's questions and Beatris's answers. Most of it was uninteresting, but one thing had caught his interest.

The 'surface above' and the creature's explanation of it. It caught his curiosity, having not even heard of a 'surface above' in the first place.

That's where these two creatures came from, then, or at least it was safe to assume so.

Now the older creature was running, up and down the tunnel, their breaths ragged and mixed with half-sobs. He felt another pang of pity. But what could he do? He was powerless in this situation, the shock of pain down his foreleg reminding him how powerless he really was. A pained exhale hissed through his gritted teeth as he grimaced, waiting for it to subside.

The most he could do was watch-it felt cruel to turn a blind eye to it, despite how part of him wanted to do just that.

More gembound- more sentinels- were filing into the tunnel. All standing silent watch. It made him uncomfortable, and truly understand how important these two were, if they required this much supervision.

coding by wulf for template purposes

The vulture bustled to and fro.

Though he was not particularly afraid of Vargas for any particular reason, it was hard to... prefer not to have him, ah, looming. Quite so close.

And in any case, his job had just increased tenfold. He'd moved the three dying rats aside--poison, or rather venom, and antidote tests (nothing fruitful yet; the last few dozen had died without any change and that was getting tedious). Now his attention was on the women, or rather the woman and the child.

Over--no, Master Vargas, he reminded himself--had stressed half a dozen times in as many minutes that this was his top priority, now. That Masters had been killed over this, and that he--Doctor--was very, very much not a master, lower on the totem pole, and that his death would be very... well, Vargas hadn't really detailed that part but it had been implied, and Doctor, in any case, took his work quite seriously.

Another check, and he was bringing water to the sitting woman: a small cup-like hollowed bone he dipped into his stores. His work space was rather full of upside-down skulls, their hollow places used as planters for his herbs, or receptacles to keep clean water in. And this water, now, he handed off to the woman.

"Drink, and breathe-! Drink, or you will be dehydrated. Which is not good," he added, his words rapid and cheerful. He cast out his magic to check on her, briefly--and the child, who Vargas was now addressing--and then, with a beat of his powerful wings he'd launched out into the air.

A short glide and another flap landed him near Orthoclase-Alpha, and he waddled over as he tucked his wings, jerking his head to and fro so that his good eye could get a look at the Orthoclase's wounds.

"Any pain, or irritation?" he asked it quietly, so as not to interrupt the rest.

permission given by bluebird to powerplay garnet-epsilon into here!
also from hawkweed to pp selenite-gamma in
It was... not entirely adjusted to the new hierarchy yet - even if it'd been indirectly intimidated into silence by the green-pointed behemoth's sheer... well, size. Hemlocke knew it had - or at least, it did have - the authority to order the monstrosity around when it was younger and hadn't been taken under Vargas's command and training. After that point, it gave the orthoclase a respectable berth. Survival of the fittest, and all that - killing it might not be so much a stain on its record as that'd be for Hemlocke. Because, well, it'd be dead.

Anyways - the odd alien moved into action rather stiffly, trailing after its new Overseer with its own spawn close behind. Epsilon hadn't gone off on its assignment yet, and they'd just been in another training session to ensure those basics were down-pat. It'd be a damn shame if the hybrid traipsed off to the Seven and wound up with its own foot halfway down its throat.

Hemlocke chirped a short agreement to the otherwise apparently... off kaiju. Best not to acknowledge and best not to disturb further. It'd initiate air patrol in a moment, though, landing alongside Delta and Epsilon on the interior, waiting to be addressed by the Master. Gamma, unfortunately without flight, fought a rather hard battle up to the perch, but settled in at their sides nonetheless.

Nothing has begun, not yet. But, that heady presence from no longer than a day ago? Wretched and familiar in its unfamiliarity. It couldn't be coincidence, whatever it was.

Dialing up its senses to eleven, the alien stared and waited.

subject two.
lonely little love dog that no one knows the name of
i know why you cry out, desperate and devout

It was different down here. She couldn't see, no, but she could feel it, smell it, and hear it: it was colder, with less open breezes and no warmth from the sun; it was musty and damp, and smelled like the 'rotting fires' dad warned her about; and it was weirdly quiet, with soft echoes and muffled steps, unlike the open air and birdsong she often enjoyed.

Beatris knew these things, too. Quietly, the woman would try to explain to her the things that could be seen; but without touching them and discovering their features for her own, Two could only imagine what crazy monsters thundered about around them. She didn't like their voices and she didn't like their smells. She especially didn't like that they seemed to listen to that mean lady who took her away from her dad.

Two did her best to listen and gauge her surroundings. When the biggest monster did something bad to the other big monster, she immediately recognized the sound. Scrape. Squish. Drop. Her ears had perked, and she listened more, but it did not continue like it had last time, not like with her dad. The air felt bad and she cowered into Beatris, who was shivering with fear.

And then, a bird came to see them. She knew it was a bird because she heard it flapping its wings. It was not her dad, though; his wingbeats were different, longer and larger, maybe. She wasn't sure how to describe it, but she'd be lying if she didn't think of him when the bird came in. It poked and prodded them, and made them drink water. And while the water down here was fresh tasting, the sourness in the air still spoiled it for her.

The biggest monster, the mean one, then made Beatris do lots of things. Jump here, squat there, run, run, and run some more. Two listened carefully, her ears twisting slightly each way to follow the woman through the cave. As she was listening, there were more sounds, more breaths, more heartbeats that drew near. Her sightless eyes looked for them, her head turning in their directions, curious to know who they were, but some of them were not close enough for her to really gauge their appearances.

Beatris stopped running, stumbled, coughed; Two immediately turned her attention back to the adult, her eyes widening and a soft "Beatris?" left her maw. But the bird was here and he only told her to drink water. Then she was okay, yeah?

Two had been sitting quietly with her knees pulled up to her chest, and as the big monster turned to her—she could tell, by the shift in the air and by what she could and couldn't hear as his big body blocked sounds—she clasped her fingers together and felt her ears twist back.

He addressed her—she had come to understand she would be called subject two—and she wondered if he was going to ask her the same questions he asked Beatris.

She felt her lips tighten.

"Daddy said not to talk to strangers," she decided to say, and her milky round eyes narrowed in the direction of the monster as she added, "and not to hit people." She hadn't forgotten. She'd never forget those sounds. "It's mean." But he was just a big mean monster anyway, so did he really care? Two did. She also remembered the sound of the other big monster sniffling, just a little, and she had wondered if he cried. It made her sad, and it made her mad, but she was too scared to get up and approach either of them.

But Tams used to hug her and pet her hair when she cried. She didn't know if the hurt monster had hair to pet, but she wanted him to feel better. So she glared blindly in the direction of Master Vargas and sat firmly on her words. Meanie. Meanie Vargas.

@Vargas

The others were arriving--good. He offered them nods as they arrived, though they did so as he was working with Beatris and so words would have to wait.

When Two responded to him, he eyed her for a long moment. Various responses flitted through his mind--your daddy is dead was first among them, and you have no daddy, foolish child second, but perhaps luckily for Two, Vargas deemed neither of these to be particularly helpful. Her response, though--and she could not see him, but she could hear and feel his size--her response in the face of that was admirable, an iron core, or perhaps one of fire; and Vargas wondered how far it would go. He hoped all the way through. He hoped that she held that courage. That was what he needed to work with. That was part of what he would instill in the new creation.

As for being mean-...

"It is mean," he agreed, pushing away the too-fresh memory of Orthoclase weeping and bleeding in the corner. "But sometimes it is necessary. Now: I am Master Vargas. Therefore, I am no longer a stranger to you. If there is something you require you are to ask this bird--Doctor--for it, yes? Food, or water, and he will see it procured for you. Ahh-... He will get it for you." Or, 'have it gotten' but he doubted the child understood the word 'procured.' "I would like to know about the surface. About the things you like, and do not like. The things you want, and do not want. I will ask you many questions," and then I will kill you. He paused. He imagined it. There was no satisfaction in murdering a fresh spawn the size of one foot. There was... reluctance. He pushed this away. "If you answer to me all of those things, I will ensure you are treated kindly."

Vargas glanced at the gathered servants, and realized that it was past time to address them. He turned back to Two. "There are many in this cave, right now, but neither they nor I will harm you." Yet. He leaned in, and added very quietly, near the child's ear--and loud enough for those close by, and perhaps Beatris, to hear--"Now cover your ears, child, for I am about to get very loud."

Vargas then stepped back, the movement swift and commanding, and looked to his servants and his spawn.

"It is good that you are all here. NOW LISTEN, and closely." His voice was booming, as he turned to face them, filling the tunnel in a way that it had never done before. "You have all been good, and loyal, creations thus far. There is not one of you that I am not proud to call my spawn, or my servants." Well, there was one but it wasn't here, so... "Garnet-Delta, I strongly believe in your potential. We WILL mold you into a weapon, but one that you will be glad to wield." And what did that mean-? Vargas didn't explain, instead shifting his gaze. He moved, muscles rippling beneath the purple skin, tail slicking behind him as if it were somehow both lizard's, and cat's. "Ruby-Beta, you have been missing," he said pointedly, eyes briefly narrowing, "And I trust you had good reason, and that you will stay here, now, because you too have potential to be something great. Aside from your slumber there is little mistake you have made in your training, and your qualities are sterling. Bloodstone," and yes, he even addressed the child, as it had come in, "You are new, and not my spawn, nor any of ours, but you will be a powerful ally in time. We will watch you, as you grow, and we will guard you and train you. Hemlocke, you are an excellent scout, and you have shown nothing but perfection in your work, and that is to be admired by everyone present! Those beneath your command--Garnet-Epsilon; Selenite-Gamma: you hold potential, and with your training are bound to become superb infiltrators and scouts. Hemlocke, you will pass my praise on to those I can sense guarding just outside this tunnel. Now I want all of you to listen, because you will never hear anything MORE IMPORTANT than what I am about to say!"

His voice carried. A roar that echoed across the rock, heard dimly even in Canis, and then it lowered: but still loud, still intense. "None of you are familiar with cave politics and so I am about to enlighten you. You know of Masters, but you do not know who they answer to and only one of you has seen her." Over-long arm swept out, gesturing toward Orthoclase-Alpha. "Orthoclase-Alpha, whom I have named my Overseer. You are all to obey its word. It has been dutiful, loyal, cunning, and strong." Vargas even seemed to believe the 'cunning' bit. "A fusing of random stone and magic, but I could not have designed a better second. And yet you see the wounds across its face." Apparently Vargas was just going to address that- "It was present at the Lord's arrival. She who is the Hand of our Creator. She who has already slain three Masters in recent days for their failures. She who will tear me apart, piece by piece, if I fail at the task she has set me," and he did not sound afraid, but intense--"She who would have torn Orthoclase to pieces had I not struck it and I hope this is enough, merely for seeing her. SHE WHO WILL," he bellowed, "DESTROY EVERY LIVING BEING IN THIS CAVE SHOULD I FAIL!"

Vargas' words were not a howl of stress and despair, but a snarling roar, with his six eyes shifting between each of them. He let them settle, for a moment, staring among each of them in turn. "I do not know how attached any of you have become to the weaker beasts in these caves, but if you value their lives and your own, listen to me closely. I am MASTER VARGAS, you are my servants--the most POWERFUL beings in this cave! Take PRIDE in it!--and if you wish to ensure its survival, and that of EVERYONE in it, you will make sure of two things."

He turned, tail lashing, and swept to the side of Two. One enormous clawed hand reached out to rest on her shoulder, to turn her gently toward the rest. And then to Beatris, for the same. "Our Lord would have me fashion these two into something new. A new creation, with them as the base and it is an impossible task she has set me. A last chance to save what the other Masters have allowed to fall into RUIN. And I WILL do it. But YOU must ensure we are not disturbed. YOU must ensure there is no sabotage--even by other Masters!--disobey them if you must, under my authority! And you must ensure none come into this cave, that these two creatures do not leave it, in either direction. If I am disturbed at a crucial moment, or these otherwise lost, then SO ARE WE ALL."

Master Vargas let the echoes of his roar fade, the intensity of his tone and stare and posture speaking for him, for a moment, as he looked between each of them again. "The fate of these caves rests on me, and on all of you." Another pause. He hoped that they understood. He hoped that they grasped the magnitude of these events. They had not asked to be created, or hatched, or to be his but here they were, a random scattering of creatures once gathered by Desert Rose Thirty-Five merely to protect those in Hydra and now with the lives of all the caves in their hands.

Vargas turned to Alpha.

"Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha--who has yet to choose the name that it has earned--will Oversee you but I expect you all to offer it your advice and suggestions. Scouts will continue to answer to Hemlocke, who will in turn answer to the Overseer. Your tasks are to protect this tunnel, to ensure these two remain alive and present, and secondarily to guard the stones growing here," and he gestured to the massive chryrsalids--some oily stone, a Selenite, a Zoisite--"Are there any questions?"

As far as inspirational speeches went, it was... debatable; but Vargas hoped that the gravity of the situation was clear.

hey guys he's not exaggerating

@Garnet-Delta @Orthoclase-Alpha @Ruby-Beta @Bloodstone @One (lmao sorry he ignored you-) @Hemlocke @Two