for certain definitions of art

----------

She'd meant to only watch.

Haytham had gone to Owais, first, and Owais wasn't the one to keep such secrets; he'd immediately gathered both she and Sylvia, along with a pair of young men who knew how to give and take hits; the latter were sent off to 'cause trouble' before Owais had regarded her seriously, and had Haytham repeat what he had said.

Someone has come for you.

She couldn't imagine whom; oh, there was a brief flash of something, but the man Haytham had described was completely unlike her memory. And so she'd simply tucked herself away in the copse to watch, finding a place in the trees, and when the power had been cut and the artificial sun grew dim, when the men had come over...

Scarlett had nearly forgotten how to breathe. For, dressed in worn clothes with his hair golden like the real sun, his voice perhaps a bit rougher than she remembered but the way he spoke, the way he held himself...it could be no other than her Victor. She'd tightened her grip on the bark, watching them talk, the way Haytham himself fought to keep from looking up to her hiding spot - he had to know she was there, after all, none could escape his sight - but when the power had come back on and the summon-signal blared, she was still in too much shock to move. When she belatedly realized that she, too, was needed, she was torn between trying to sneak away and staying put to avoid alerting the others, who were now quietly discussing the situation with words that nearly made her heart break. 

Oh, Victor, what happened to you?

He was anxious with more than just nerves - there was something to him that reminded her of some of the other Beastmen adjusting to their new senses. The way they were tense, hypersensitive to all stimuli - perhaps even Victor didn't notice how jerkily he moved, and it made her yearn to go to him, to comfort him as she had in the past.

And then the Quintesson had come - likely looking for her - and all thoughts of comfort fled. And when it had noticed her Victor...

All thoughts of remaining hidden vanished as she realized that she couldn't let him be caught. Not here, not now. And so she'd dropped, her barbed tail snapping forwards almost instinctively, and there was an intense feeling of satisfaction as she felt something pump into the monster, something as deadly and toxic as the hatred she'd held for them all this time.

"Don't you dare."

But when Victor met her gaze, when Victor recognized her - she could only imagine what he saw. A monster covered in chitin, a makeshift dress hiding its modesty but for what? She was a beast, through and through, and she turned and fled without thinking-

-and then there was a shimmer of gold, and she ran into it, him, familiar hands reaching for her shoulders. "Scarlett!" his voice called again, and it was all she could do to look up with bright blue eyes that held a mixture of fear and trepidation.

"Victor," she whispered, voice betraying her terror. Surely, now that he'd realized who she was, he would shove her away, recoil, reject her...

But instead he stared at her for but a moment longer - and then wrapped his arms about her armored shoulders, pulling her tight against his chest as his voice hitched. "Oh, Scarlett, oh, God, I'm sorry I took so long, I didn't know-"

He was...apologizing? She blinked dumbly for a moment or two before squirming just slightly, trying to look up at him. And he'd changed, too, she realized - perhaps not as much as she, but not only had his hair lightened from the brown she remembered, but he was sporting something of a beard, now, to say nothing of all those lines and wrinkles she'd noted before. And while he'd always been something of a delicate man, there was strength behind his grip, now. Not so much that she couldn't break it if she'd really tried, but it was to the point where she suspected it was her own modifications that would be the main reason for that. 

"Victor," she murmured, just a little more forcefully now - a tone that had never ceased to catch his attention in the past. It did the trick now, and he went silent, looking down at her with wet red - red - eyes. So he had been changed, too, but...nevermind that. "You...you came for me?" 

He nodded, brow furrowing. "Of course," he answered, before - of all things - some hesitance of his own crept into his expression. "I know that...when we parted, but if you'll still-"

Exasperation surged within her like the surf at a beach. "Oh, you stupid man," she sighed, reaching up to touch his face - and then pausing before lowering her hand. Her claw. The five fingers had merged into two pieces, making it near-impossible to do so many things-! Once again, she mentally cursed the Quintessons that had done this to her, but before her hatred could turn into self-loathing she felt something touch that claw. She looked down at it in surprise, only to see Victor's hands gently, so gently, raising it to cup against his cheek.

"Your stupid man?" he asked hopefully, in a way she never thought she'd hear again-! It nearly made her burst into tears then and there, but instead, she tucked her face against his chest and took a deep, shuddering breath.

"My brilliant, brave, incredibly foolish man...what are you even doing here?" 

"Ah," another voice said, sounding a bit out of breath - and if that was the other man finally having caught up with them, that made sense, but Scarlett didn't bother turning her head - "I am very, very sorry for interrupting, but I think that maybe we all should be taking notice of that?"

Scarlett turned her head just enough to see the man point, and followed it towards the entrance of the vivarium. Even at this distance, it was clear to see that there was some kind of altercation, the sights and sounds of Beastmen against Quintesson making her realize that her attack on the Guard must have been noticed by the others. But this - this was different. Her friends were fighting back, and what was more, she thought she saw pulses of - energy? White fire?

"Oh," she and Victor said at the same time.

—------------------------

By the time the trio had rushed over, the Beastmen were licking their wounds - both literally and metaphorically. The Quintessons were little more than heaps of sparking metal and rent flesh - or cauterized, in some cases. Pravda met Victor's gaze as he approached, looking disheveled but intact - he offered her a relieved smile, which quickly faded as she turned her back to him to address the centaur once more.

"The offer remains open," she said evenly. "It is only a matter of time before the rest of the Quintessons realize what has gone on, and should you wish to escape, now is the time, Owais."

The centaur - Owais - shook his head, wings folding once more against his back. Upper back, Victor noted. "As welcome as your offer is, what you see here is not the only set of captives. Below us, an ocean biome - above, one for those who are still on life-support. I will not leave them," he emphasized, cutting off any argument, "and where would you even take them?"

Where would I take them, Victor thought crossly, pulling Scarlett just a bit closer. Despite her altered form, despite the new roughness in her voice...her eyes were the same, and while her hair had lost some of its luster, it, too, had called him to her. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in it, to ignore the world and simply hold her - but the world would not let him escape it so easily. Indeed, he could see a few of the Beastmen studying the two of them, including that birdman - Haytham? - from before. He glowered at them all, silently daring them to try to take her away from him, though Scarlett was shifting just a bit and so he eased his grip as he gazed back down at her.

How could I let them do this to you? he wondered, briefly considering the option of simply finding every Quintesson in the Spire and dealing with them, one at a time. In fact...the more he thought about it, the better an idea it sounded. He cleared his throat, trying to capture both Pravda's and the Beastmen leader's attention - they turned their heads, granting it to him as he asked, "What if we simply took control of the Spire?"

Various murmurs of shock and surprise followed his suggestion, and even Scarlett looked up at him in astonishment. Victor gave her a reassuring smile before continuing to speak, rationalizing his decision as he went along. "The lot of you made quick work of those Quintessons, and with my own powers, I could get us anywhere within a moment - especially if we were to reconnect with the systems so that I could get a better idea of where our enemies might hide. I imagine the Quintessons would come to retake this place in time, but it would give us time in the first place to get everyone out of here as well as dealing them a blow."

Those gathered around shared looks, a few offering their own thoughts to the mix; It's not a bad idea, there's no way we could take on all of them, who is he? Even Pravda was staring at him in shock, which was likely because he'd never been so bold, before, but - why not?  

And after another moment, Owais held up a hand, those murmurs dying down. "We will hold a vote," he declared. "All, to me." 

As the Beastmen moved, some reaching down to collect stones at the same time, Scarlett began to pull herself free. But not to leave- instead, she once again raised one of those strange claw-hands, touching Victor's face. "Victor- are you mad?" she whispered, eyes wide. "Taking over the Spire? And just what powers are you talking about, how could they be enough?"

Her words cut, whether she intended them to or not. He swallowed, touching her own face - rather, the chitin of her cheek. "They brought me here, didn't they?" he murmured back. "Please, I- I'd take over a dozen Spires if it meant getting you out of here. Trust in me," he begged, and for a heartbreaking second he thought she wouldn't, she'd leave him again-

-but she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, took in a breath, and then reopened them with a softer expression. "You've changed, my love," she murmured, only easing his worry so much. "But...I will. And we need to talk, and soon," she said quietly before looking towards where the other Beastmen were gathering. "Other things have...changed since we last saw another. I've got to go with the others, I'll be right back."

The last was said too quickly for him to respond, and then she was gone, leaving him in confusion - things had changed? Of course they had, of course, of-

"Taking over the Spire-! I did not realize you had such high aspirations!"

Victor didn't respond to Soner at first, watching Scarlett rejoin the others. Then he let out a slow breath, part of him wanting to admit that neither did he, but- "For her, I'd do anything," he murmured, seeking reassurance in the words. But there was none to be had, for the sting of hers still lingered.

Are you mad?

"Victor." Pravda was watching him, studying him. "You are pale."

They were the first words she'd spoken to him since separating, back in the wallspace- and he should have been more welcoming of them. They were spoken out of concern, were they not? But he turned, insead, taking a few steps away and forcing himself to breathe in, and out. In, and out, there was nothing wrong with him...

...was there? His brow creased as he tried to think of his behavior over these past weeks, tried to block out the sound of Soner clearing his throat once more-

"-it is not a bad idea, in theory," the man was saying. "Should we be able to get you and that device of yours to one of the control rooms, then the systems would be ours, no? The problem is, of course, that you are a far more formidable fighter than either of us-"

"-which would prove useful in defending him-"

"Ah, but it would be better to not even be noticed in the first place, yes? Just as you helped with a distraction before, to draw the kalamar away by them thinking there is a true rebellion-" Victor could see him gesture with the words, and could also see the logic. He certainly didn't feel in a state to fight; now that the adrenaline from finding Scarlett was starting to wear off, while he was still willing to face a Spire full of Quintessons - especially since whether he wanted to or not was irrelevant, perhaps they hadn't started a series of events so chaotic as his assault on the Judge but this would surely be noticed sooner than later - he was looking down at his hands and reconsidering just what the scope of his powers were.

Have you ever thought of what else you can do?

Another breath, and he turned back. "Pravda- it does make sense for us to split up, once more." He cast a brief glance towards the Beastmen, towards Scarlett, whose back was to him - that great and terrible tail of hers resting behind her in a slightly curled position. She looked over her shoulder as if sensing his gaze, and offered a flicker of a smile before her attention returned to the group at large - which seemed to be casting votes one at a time, Owais in the center with his wings partially enshrouding whatever method they were using. Victor returned his gaze back to Pravda and Soner, furrowing his brow as once again, he tried to mediate between the two of them. "I'll take another, perhaps - Owais, was that his name? - would be willing to send one of his with me-"

"What, and I am nothing?" Soner looked hurt, and Victor couldn't tell if he was teasing or not. He was a little too tired to try and figure it out, either, more relieved that Pravda seemed to be seriously considering his words and casting her own glance towards the gathered Beastmen.

"If they are willing to help us," she conceded, "it would be good for one to accompany you, and I would be willing to help cover them if so." 

"A stranger, alone with him?" Soner pressed, ignoring the look Pravda shot at him. Victor himself didn't quite understand it, either, but Soner was going on before he could mull over it. "At least give your blessing to me, that I might be there to watch over him! A good thing it would be for this to end in a...misunderstanding," he added, putting particular emphasis on the last word.

"And just what kind of misunderstanding do you think could-"

"They're coming back," Victor interrupted, thanking whatever powers there were that the Beastmen seemed to have a sense of timing, for there was Owais, accompanied by that wolf-woman with Scarlett lingering only so far behind. Haytham was beside her, and the two were holding a quiet conversation of their own as Owais came to a halt before the other group.

"It seems," he said, the barest hint of a humorless smile tugging at his lips, "that we stand with you, strangers."

—---------------------------

Peyman was his name - another canine, but somewhere between the woman's subtle changes and Scarlett's extreme modifications - and he was eager to get going. He was already shifting from foot to foot as Victor once again took Scarlett in an embrace, one she fiercely returned; they held each other close as if they were worried this would be the last time.

"After this is over," he murmured, "we'll have all the time in the world to talk."

She smiled up at him, blinking back tears as she nodded. "We'll need it," she half-joked, prompting him to give her a playful little squeeze before letting go.

"Perhaps - but I can't wait to introduce you to Sadie. You'll love her." Grinning at her somewhat bemused expression, he brought a claw up to his lips to kiss before moving to join with Soner and their new ally.

Most curiously, though...

"Where, exactly, are we going?" he asked of them, looking from one to the other. "I understand some sort of command station, but..."

Soner chuckled, stretching his arms over his head before using one to point down. "A strange Spire this may be, but in my experience, the most vital components are always down. We shall go, find our target while the others make a mess, then return and gather your Pravda once they have destroyed any resistance and then it is as good as ours, yes?"

It was...a great deal more complicated than that, perhaps, but that was more or less the plan. Peyman chuckled a little, gripping a makeshift weapon; many of the Beastmen seemed to have fashioned their own in preparation for this day - or perhaps just as a matter of course? - and his own seemed to be some sort of spear. "Sounds easy," he agreed, tail wagging slightly behind him. 

Easy to get them back in the wallspace, at least, and with as much of a head start as they could get while the other Beastmen made their own preparations. Victor kept half his attention on his tablet pouch, ready for it to alert him for possible messages, but moving down through the insulation, the wiring, the ventilation - it took much of his focus. Not enough for him not to notice when it did buzz at him, and he quickly pulled Soner's hand in alert as he found a place to stand steady and pull it out.

Starting now, he read, just as he felt as much as heard a vibration in the structure. Peyman made a soft sound - not quite a whine, not nearly a whimper, but very much akin to a unsettled dog - of his own, and Victor swallowed down a noise of his own before realizing there was more to the message. Watch your back. - PM

...odd, but he supposed she had a reason for it. Considering he was bringing up the rear, though...Victor couldn't help but cast a brief glance behind him, seeing nothing, of course. He sighed at himself for being foolish, turning forwards once more as another sound caught his attention, this time a full-on yelp-

---------

Pravda was used to people changing on her; it was one of the reasons she held her thoughts so close to her chest, to better protect her heart before it could be hurt. Unlike Victor, who seemed to trust on a whim, which at first had been almost endearing but now was a cause for alarm. For ever since she'd first met Soner, her heart had been nervous, some inner gut feeling warning her of danger. And perhaps that feeling had been overprotective at times - indeed, it had been the same with Victor at first - but it had only grown as they had traveled, and as Soner and Victor had developed a friendship.

Perhaps, she privately acknowledged, there could be some jealousy involved, or some other paranoia; Soner was a stranger, vouched for only by strangers in turn who were, admittedly, on the same side. But further examination of her thoughts and feelings, when compared with the sudden shifts in Victor's behavior...while part of her hoped that this was merely a sign of his fluttering thoughts, so close to reuniting with his wife, the rest of her quietly determined that as soon as they had found Scarlett?

They would get out of here, get them all to safety, and then leave Soner for good. If he was to blame, even in part, they would soon find out. If he wasn't, and this was the real Victor that simply hadn't revealed itself before...he was too great an ally to simply ignore, but she would watch her step around him nonetheless.

For now, she studied him in the dark as he peered through to the pen she had discovered. And while her mind also considered the thought of using the Beastmen as a distraction, she also considered the increase of lines in Victor's face, the sunken skin about his eyes...he'd changed over the journey, she realized, and she didn't recall nearly as dramatic a change in the first leg. No, this had only happened after they left Titanomachia's Meteora, which led credence to the thought that somehow, Soner was involved. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the thought, and she couldn't help but glance towards two dim pinpricks of red that studied them both. 

The pinpricks were getting closer as Soner pushed his way through the various pieces of structure here within the wallspace. Eventually, he arrived next to Victor, trying to peek over the man's shoulder to see what had caught the other two's attention. Pravda watched him for a few long moments before turning her attention to the motion past; one of the Beastmen, one who seemed to have the traits of some sort of hawk or eagle, was moving towards them. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see the two men starting to draw back, and in a moment, made a decision.

"Amical," she whispered, eyes on the Beastman. They stiffened, clearly having heard her voice, but the quizzical expression suggested a lack of understanding - so, she tried again. "Дружелюбный. Friendly."

It was the last that sparked a reaction, though not just from them. Victor was trying to shush her, but before he could offer much, the Beastman spoke. "Hal 'ant huna-" they, he trailed off, looking about almost helplessly.

It was then that Soner stepped in, holding a short conversation before looking back towards Pravda and Victor. "Well," he began with that incessant cheer of his, even if he was thankfully speaking more softly than normal, "we have made contact. Shall I ask of Scarlett?" he added, that directed straight at Victor. The man nodded quickly, and Pravda was at least relieved to be reminded that hadn't changed; he was still clearly intent on his goal.

If a bit...intensely so at times, she amended, thinking back to him snapping at her. She had never seen him like that; he hardly ever raised his voice, and to be so angry over a 'poor choice' of words...was it more than just the words, she wondered? But there Soner was talking again, and startling a bit at the response. Another few words and the Beastman nodded, moving away and leaving Soner to briefly rub the bridge of his nose.

"It seems we are in luck - for that name is indeed familiar to our new friend. But," he continued, raising a hand to forestall Victor's apparent instinct to jump in, "they are closely monitored within there, and it would not do to reveal ourselves so quickly, yes? Our friend is attempting to determine if a distraction can be made, but perhaps yours..."

He cast a look towards Pravda, and Victor followed it before his eyes (metaphorically) lit up in realization. "Primus!" 

Pravda couldn't help but flinch at the name, expression immediately darkening. Victor knew they weren't to mention-! He'd agreed, and now Soner - whose own eyes glinted in the darkness - had the name as well. She scowled as Victor didn't even seem to notice his misstep, instead continuing to speak, suggesting they create some sort of connection- which Pravda wasn't even sure was possible, but after a moment, she let out a frustrated puff of air. "I will ask," she conceded, turning about to pull out her own tablet and send a message.

The one she received in response, however, had her stare at it for a long moment.

Yes - if you connect this tablet to a terminal, I should be able to reboot their systems. I've attached an image to help you. 

Go back for the others after everything gets started. - PRIMUS

That was...not quite what she had expected. The image was welcome and helpful, yes, but the final comment stuck in her mind - had Primus thought she would simply leave them? Either way, she let out the breath she had been holding, looking towards the men. "Our friend," she emphasized, bitterly satisfied to see a flash of realization finally come over Victor's face, "can assist. We will need to find one of these." She turned the tablet around, showing its image to the other two. They studied it before Soner snapped his fingers.

"I saw one through the other vent- I shall do this, yes?" He reached for it, but Pravda pulled back the tablet protectively.

Victor noticed, and sighed in annoyance. "Pravda, don't make this-"

"I will do it," she interrupted, giving him a similar look as she had to her brothers when they were acting foolish. It would leave Victor alone with Soner, a choice she wasn't particularly fond of (especially as it felt she had already left them to themselves far, far too much), but considering it didn't seem to be that far…

Soner pulled back his hand, tilting it from side to side in a gesture. "If you say so! We shall await the signal, yes?" he added, grinning at Victor.

For his part, Victor gave Pravda a look of his own, and for a moment, Pravda thought she saw the old him - the him that had been willing to put his life on the line for children, and for a person he'd never met as well. The moment didn't pass so much as shift, and a determination filled his eyes as he nodded. "Signal if you need help," he said, touching the satchel which held his own tablet, and Pravda only nodded before moving to accomplish her mission.

The thing was, she was relatively certain she wasn't the one in need of help.

—---------------------------

The tablets, proving their worth once more, were useful for coordinating the distraction - for Soner had convinced Victor to wait until the Beastmen gave their own signal before passing it to Pravda. Less than a minute later, the soft vrrrr of the surrounding systems trailed off into nothing, what few lights visible growing dim as well. 

Impatient, Victor immediately drew his hand against the vent. Again, there was that subtle resistance, but it was less this time; as before, only a minor adjustment was needed before Rhisling's glow was illuminating both the wallspace and the mini-world beyond. Soner jumped through before he could, but Victor was quick to follow, trusting that Pravda could simply break through the vent if it wouldn't budge for her.

In the near distance, he could hear yowling, snarling - a fight, perhaps? He hoped that was their own distraction, but for now- "Did they say they'd meet us?" he whispered to Soner, still mindful that Quintessons could enter at any time and it was best they had no reason to focus on anything but their systems - or the scuffle in progress.

"Give him time," Soner murmured, fidgeting with his hands. But before he could say more, there was another soft hiss, a new voice;

"Over here!"

The accent was thick, but the voice was strong and sure. Both men looked towards the sound as the nearby greenery rustled, and there was only a brief moment of hesitation before moving into the copse. It at least provided some measure of privacy, though even in the dark, the strangeness of the Beastman was apparent.

There seemed to be three - four? - of them here, but Victor's gaze was drawn to the largest. Standing upon four legs, they resembled a horse, except- there was a man's body atop of it, much like the centaurs of legends. But that wasn't all of it, for tucked against their back and flank was another mass, one Victor couldn't quite make out in the dark. Nonetheless, the positions and postures of the others seemed to defer to this one, and he squared his shoulders as Soner began to speak in that fluid tongue.

One of the forms - Victor assumed they were the bird-man from before, the shape was similar enough - answered, but the dim glow of the centaur's blue eyes moved away from Soner and to Victor himself. After a few more moments, he interrupted.

"That's enough, Haytham." 

A different voice, a different accent - but a surprisingly pleasant texture accompanied the words, a smooth bass that seemed to reach to one's core. Haytham - if that was indeed the bird-man's name - only protested a moment before another voice, feminine, snorted in derision.

"Better the rest of us can understand, too." Wide red eyes regarded their fellow. "Besides, your English isn't that bad, you've been practicing with Scarlett."

Immediately, Victor's chest went light. "She's here, then?" he pressed, looking around. "She's- she's with you?" 

"Why do you seek her?" The centaur spoke once more, his voice immediately taking command of the conversation. "You are strangers to us. And you only seek one of our number?" There was a surge of anger for this thing standing in his way- but this time, Victor forced himself to fight against it, to take another breath. Keenly aware of Soner watching him, he kept his voice as even as he could as he said, "She's my wife - we were separated years ago. I was told she was in this facility, and I've come to get her out."

It was so easy to say - and yet, Victor felt as though he was missing something. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on- but surely it wasn't important, if it wasn't in mind, was it? He came here for Scarlett, and now, looking from Beastman to Beastman…

Their leader was impossible to read in the shadows, but there was some movement from the other two. They seemed to be looking towards one another in surprise, their body language more like animals than humans'; the woman's large, pointed ears flattened against her skull, and the other's feathers seemed to flare up in alarm.

"Wife?" he repeated, just as their surroundings abruptly shifted from near-black to bright as day. Only the fact that they were shaded by trees kept it from becoming an unbearable change; as it was, the Beastmen all flinched as they immediately reached to shield their eyes, and even Victor raised a hand to shade his own - but for another reason. If the power was back on...

Pravda.

But she was nowhere in sight, and the vent that they'd first seen through - it was still intact. He furrowed his brow in concern, looking at Soner, but the man was wide-eyed gazing at the Beastmen. And as Victor followed that gaze, he quickly found out why.

The centaur was, in fact, the most beautiful human he had ever seen in his life - man or woman. With broad shoulders and a well-toned frame, he could have stepped straight out of a myth with his even bronze skin and striking blue eyes. His hair was tucked within a headwrap, but even what few strands had fallen free seemed almost as if they were intended to be loose wisps to perfectly frame his bearded face. Below that, a chest that was smoothly muscled, with only a bit of hair in the front leading down to where his hips would have been - and from there was an effortless transition in to the body of a horse that would have itself been a thing of beauty, itself balanced between a heavy draft's build and that of an elegant sporting breed -

-and the wings. The wings. Shades of red and gold melded with each other like colors of a sunset, an almost hypnotizing gradient that was, for the moment, tucked on either side of the flank. Victor couldn't tell how they connected from this angle- did they come from the man's back, by his shoulders? Or were they attached to the lower half, could they allow him to actually fly? Belatedly, he realized he was staring, and he tore his gaze away in embarrassment to sight the other two.

The woman was - mostly - human, her pointed ears and furry tail the most change Victor could see, unless her loose clothing - all of them wore a crude style, Victor noted, as if they were only given lengths of cloth and it was up to them to fashion it into coverings - hid more. The other man, in sharp contrast, had a clearly defined beak as well as feathers that had fluffed up all the more. Though the wings on his arms seemed too small to fly - in comparison to Mina's, at least, and even the centaur's - there were more than enough to enlarge his small frame, and combined with the way he was staring wide-eyed in to the distance, it was enough to cause Victor no small amount of alarm.

The others noticed it, too, their eyes on him as he clacked his beak in upset. "They come," he said, only briefly looking at Victor and Soner before his gaze went to the centaur. "Extempaxia with guards-" 

And before he could say more, there was a sharp, high-pitched tone that rang through the area; once again, the Beastmen winced, the woman emitting a soft whine as she reached to cover her ears. The centaur pawed at the ground, looking from his kin before his attention turned to Soner and Victor.

"Stay here. They're summoning us for a count - do not leave this place," he warned before a wing extended to help usher the other two out of the copse. Victor bit back an impulse to ask about Scarlett, Soner reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder and offer a reassuring smile.

"Do not fret. Once the Quintessons are satisfied, we can see your Scarlett, yes?" 

Victor gave him a look, then shrugged off his hand with a tight, unhappy expression. There'd been so many delays already, but- 

"She has waited this long," Pravda had said. And she was right. Why had he snapped at her? Unconsciously wetting his lips with his tongue, he pushed the feelings of regret aside, instead taking a moment to seat himself in the brush with a heavy exhale of breath. Soner watched him curiously, then sat beside him a moment later.

"Tell me your thoughts," he suggested. "You seem troubled- I would offer you a drink, but I think it best you stay sober, yes?"

Even the offer had something in Victor surge with want; he grimaced again, shaking his head as he combed his fingers through his hair. "I don't- I don't know what I'm thinking," he admitted after a moment. "I want to see her so badly, but - if she's here, then for all I know she's one of them," he nodded towards where the Beastmen had gone off to, "and that isn't a bad thing, only I don't know if-"

"-if she's still human." Soner nodded in understanding, but Victor made an irritated sound in response because it wasn't that.

"Of course she's still human!- nothing the Quintessons could do to her would change that, I don't care what she looks like now. But it's not just that, I don't- I can't put it into words," he admitted, closing his eyes and curling his fingers just slightly in a frustrated gesture. "There's something- something else, I feel like we're walking on eggshells and something's about to give-!"

For a long few moments, Soner was silent. Then, he made a thoughtful sound, leaning enough to bump shoulders. "My friend," he declared, "I think you worry too much. You should be happy! The end of your journey is in sight, and before long you will-"

Whatever he had intended to say was cut off by the sound of rustling. Victor stiffened, his mind for a moment flashing back to another time such sound had heralded the ambush of a turbofox, and he reflexively began to get to his feet only for Soner to haul him back down with a 'ssh!' A moment later, Victor heard something that made his blood run even colder.

The electrical hum of armor. How had it snuck up on him, he should have noticed it sooner-! But he'd been talking, and now he could see them, the great hulking frame of a guard-caste Quintesson approaching from the far side of the copse. He flattened himself down further into the brush, glancing wide-eyed at Soner, who was looking back at him with a worried expression. Victor couldn't blame him, for if it had heard them speaking to one another, surely it wouldn't leave until it had discovered the source of the noise...

And then it spotted them, red eyes locking on to the shapes of the two men. Tentacles writhed as it emitted a low warble, a clear command - one Victor vaguely realized as a get up, but he was frozen on the ground like a mouse sighted by a hawk. Soner gripped him tightly, and Victor almost, almost reached for Rhisling as the Quintesson moved forwards-

Shnk!

It froze, abruptly, body going rigid as something dropped on it from above  - and the men stared wide-eyed as it abruptly topped over, as that something (someone) was straightening up atop of it. This one was armored as well, but unmistakably humanoid - another beastman? But their tail was long and segmented, and was pulling out of the Quintesson's body as its owner emitted a low hiss of suppressed anger.

"Don't you dare," she spat down at it, her English clear, without accent, and unmistakably familiar. Victor's red eyes immediately blazed in recognition as he pushed himself up,  mouth dry as the Beastman's dimming blues met his own. For a moment, there was a tense silence - then the figure took a step back.

"No, please-!" He raised a hand, desperation filling him as the figure outright fled, and in the distance he could hear other sounds, other shrieks, not unlike the 'distraction' from before but these ones were mixed with Quintesson cries and shouts-

-but as Victor scrambled free of Soner's grip, none of that was on his mind. There was only one thing that mattered as he clambered to his feet, reaching out for that retreating form.

-------------

By the time they reached the outskirts of Jeddah, tensions had risen despite Victor's best efforts at quelling them. And he himself was on edge and tense, only kept level-headed by the knowledge that Scarlett was close. 

The question remained, of course, how exactly to get her out of the Spire. And it wasn't only that; there were a number of terraforming-tracts nearby, to the point where they actually had to move within one to avoid another one more dangerous. Moving from dry desert to humid jungle was certainly an experience Victor had no urge to repeat, and he looked forward to the time when all this was over with and he could find somewhere to take Scarlett and just try and ignore everything else. Surely there was some corner of the world, as he'd dreamed about, untouched by Quintesson or humans.

He was even irritable enough to have snapped at Pravda when she was bickering with Soner; he wouldn't have said she was sulking, but she was still very much holding herself aloof ever since. And while part of him wanted to apologize, the rest was simply watching how she watched him. Combining such with the memory of Primus studying him during the Underground's flight from London...it didn't make for a welcoming picture, and he tried to simply not think about it. Besides, with the lone Spire looming in the distance, it was enough to keep all of their minds on their goal.

"I can get you closer, yes," Soner conceded, nervously fidgeting with his hands as he looked from the Spire and back, "but of course you understand that the closer we get, the greater a risk there is of being seen? It would be a poor ending if we were to have come all this way, only for you to be captured-!"

Pravda frowned, though to be fair, it didn't seem directed at Soner. It seemed more of simple frustration as she looked towards Victor. "Have you confirmed she is still in there?"

"Our 'friend' has said as much," Victor answered, feeling thoroughly tired that they were keeping up the vagueness. They'd only traveled with Soner for nearly two months, and while it hadn't been a boring trip - they'd at least gotten here safely. Surely a little trust had been earned at this point, but Pravda had insisted, and Victor had all but thrown up his hands. If nothing else, Soner knew they communicated through the tablet, and at least put up the front of being disinterested while occasionally giving Victor a knowing glance. He was doing the former, now, fiddling with his ring as Victor and Pravda discussed the best route to approach.

At least for a few moments - until he cleared his throat for attention, waiting until both sets of eyes were on him before he met Victor's own. "Perhaps this is one of the moments where a spacebridge would be useful?" he asked hopefully, much like a child wondering if they were about to see some sort of show. Victor could count on one hand the times he'd shown Soner his abilities, and Soner had never pushed (in fact, he had scoffed at the thought with, "What are you, a dog to do tricks?"). The fact he'd brought it up now alone was cause for thought.

"I think I could," Victor agreed after a moment, scanning the distance. It would be a bit further than he'd ever done before at once, even including his trip over the channel - for while that was further, he'd taken it in multiple 'jumps', even if they had been unsettling. This one would have to be done in one go, lest he wanted the Quintesson's sensors to pick up some strange activity.

As if reading his mind, Pravda frowned, looking first at Victor and then the Spire. "Are you certain? We do not know if they could sense-"

"-if they could have sensed him, would they not have found him already?" Soner countered before quickly adding, "Of course, the choice is yours, my friend. If you believe it safer to cross on foot, I will do my best to guide you." He squared his shoulders, and Victor thought he caught a glimpse of Pravda rolling her eyes off to the side. 

He let out a frustrated sound of his own, briefly rubbing his nose as he came to a decision. "We'll give it a try," he declared, getting to his feet. As much as he was tempted to ask for a drink to brace himself, he couldn't risk anything short of his complete focus, here - the Spire was but a thin line in the distance, set by the shores of the water. Though, if he bridged up first...

Tugging at the familiar shape, he caught just the hint of a marveled gasp from Soner before he stepped through the portal it made and took 'hold' of its edges. Yes, this was better - an easier view, though the distance still made it difficult to judge. But some quick calculations based on what he saw of other objects, and then he let the portal close.

Falling was familiar to him, by now, though he still didn't particularly like it. But at least Rhisling responded quickly enough as he reached for it once more, reopening and catching himself on its edge before pulling himself through. And while he hadn't gotten too close, he'd gotten where he wanted to be - some ruined buildings, which would serve as cover for him and the rest of his group. Smiling to himself in satisfaction, it was easy enough to bring forth both Soner and Pravda, the latter of which moved to the side to gauge their next move.

Soner, for his part, gave Victor a friendly nudge. "My utmost thanks, my friend! You have saved us much-" "Shhsh!"

Shrugging helplessly at Pravda's silencing, Soner offered Victor an apologetic smile as Victor tried to remind himself that Pravda was only trying to keep them safe. But as of late, her caution had been rubbing on him the wrong way; it felt as if she was almost mothering him. Yes, she was a mother, but there were only so many years between them in the first place-! 

Soner was peering at him, now, and Victor waved a hand in a dismissive gesture as he realized he must have been showing some of his thoughts on his face. Making a soft 'mmm' in response, Soner moved to see what Pravda was looking at, shielding his eyes with his hand as he gazed up. Victor followed as well, studying the Spire and its form.

Unlike those in London, jutting up from the Thames like needles in a vein, the Spire here was alone - and far shorter. But that may have been partly because its diameter was so large, there was no need to rise so high from the water that surrounded it like a moat. Victor judged it a few hundred meters in diameter, at the very least, and for a moment he despaired; they were to find Scarlett in that great structure? It had been difficult enough to find Simon and Joel, and that was with Primus' assistance-! 

He must have betrayed some of his thoughts as he pulled back, for Pravda turned her head towards him with the faintest look of concern. Her brow raised in silent question, and he looked away, pressing his lips together. Better to not share his uncertainty with her of all people, not when she would no doubt be relying on him so much in the immediate future. But first, he had to figure out a way to get them in...

Soner was gesturing, and the other two were quick to follow as he led them towards some greater cover. For this, nearly half a building was still intact - enough for them to regather, crouched low, and for him to ask the question on everyone's mind.

"Now what?"

Now..."We've got to get in there," Victor noted, glum. "But I haven't the faintest idea of where to start." 

As Pravda made a soft sound in acknowledgement, Soner sucked in a breath through his teeth as if something unpleasant had occurred to him. But it was only at Victor's tilt of his head that he offered, "Well, getting in would be a place to start, yes? Unless walls are a barrier to you?"

Victor blinked. "Are you suggesting I go in blind?"

"I am not suggesting anything," Soner said with a shrug. "Merely pointing it out. And if there was trouble, she," a nod towards Pravda, "would be able to fight it off, no?"

Pravda met Victor's gaze, and pressed her own lips together in a mirror of his earlier expression; he felt a brief flash of relief in the thought that she, too, had her reservations about this whole thing. A relief which was quickly replaced by something else, for hadn't she known this wasn't going to be easy-

Where had that thought come from? Victor's frown deepened, and he turned his gaze away from Pravda as her face went unreadable. Such intrusive bitterness was becoming more and more common, and he moved back towards the edge of their cover as the silence turned awkward. Even Soner didn't break it, apparently sensing some of the unease - he nervously reached for his ring to fidget.

Finally Pravda spoke first, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "I trust you, Victor." It was enough to catch his attention, and he turned back with a bit of surprise. "If you believe you can do it, then so do I."

Soner brightened at her statement, and Victor swallowed. "Very well. If we're ready to try, now…?" Both nodded, and taking a breath, Victor took a final long look at the Spire to try and gauge the distance. If he could do so across open terrain, then to imagine within...surely, it was similar? And the worst case would be that he would merely open a spacebridge into say, a wall-

-or a person-

-and he gave the thought a violent mental shove before reaching for Rhisling. It responded immediately, tearing open a connection from here to there. At first, as he suspected, there was nothing but solid metal before them - he grimaced, allowed it to close before adjusting his visualized position, and tried again. This time, it appeared to be some sort of hallway, albeit one skewed at an angle; he gave Pravda a nod before she nodded back, and approached it to peer through.

And then Soner let out a sudden hiss of warning. "Patrol-!"

Victor's head whipped around as his eyes widened, and only Pravda's surprised gasp kept him from losing his focus entirely. He managed to hold on to just enough of the spacebridge to see her clear, but it was a near thing - its wavering edges snapped shut almost like a vice, her wide eyes blazing blue as she spared only a brief look for him before her attention moved to Soner. And indeed, now Victor could hear it, that tell-tale hum-

The three of them flattened themselves into the shadows, hardly daring to breathe. And in the fading light, Victor could see the movement, the hulking forms of the Quintessons as they moved through streets only so many meters away. They were speaking as well in that strange, almost tonal tongue that caused the skin on the back of Victor's neck to prickle. The last time he'd heard it, it was directed at him in vile curses and screams...

A hand squeezed his own. Pravda's, by the strength behind it. He didn't spare her a look, instead nervously waiting for - praying to whatever God would listen - that they would pass by. And when they did, when that electrical sound of their workings finally faded...he let out a heavy sigh of relief that was echoed by those beside him, and finally turned to face them. Pravda was offering a thin smile, apparently any ill-feelings towards the spacebridge discarded in the wake of their near-notice, but Soner...

Soner was eyeing her hand still about Victor's, and then looking at the other man with a look of vague amusement. Suddenly feeling exceedingly self-conscious, Victor tugged his hand free, getting to his feet while clearing his throat.

"I think," he said after a moment, "it's too dangerous to just...go through the halls." At Pravda's tilt of her head, he added, "We don't know if a patrol could be in there, either. And I shudder to think of what would happen if they knew they had intruders inside." 

An increase in security, at the very least, assuming he was able to get them all out in the first place - but Pravda nodded with a shudder, thoughts seeming to echo Victor's own, and Soner rubbed his chin in thought. "Then...how?" he asked. "Caution is all well and good, yes, but we still must get inside to your love, no?"

"She has waited this long," Pravda murmured, "she can wait while we take our time and plan." 

It made sense - to everything but that sudden surge of anger from Victor as he whirled back on Pravda. "I am not having her wait an instant more than she has to-!" he snarled with enough force to brighten her eyes once more. 

"Victor-!"

"For God's sake, if you only wanted me to help you then you should have said as much, but this-" "Easy, easy," Soner interrupted, moving quickly to Victor's side to grab his arm. "Your voice carries, my friend, calm yourself." Another hand moved to his cheek, and Victor closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe in and out, that outrage still fighting to bubble up and over. Since when had his temper become so short-? He'd kill for a drink. But Soner was murmuring even as Pravda remained silent, and finally, Victor forced his eyes open.

"...I'm sorry," he stiffly said, "I don't know what came over me." He meant the words, and yet- and yet, Pravda was not looking at him, instead with her back to the both of them as she regarded the Spire once more. Soner took the apology in her stead, smiling and patting Victor's cheek in a friendly manner before shaking his head.

"Hardly necessary. Those were, ah, poor words." He cast a glance towards Pravda, who didn't so much as acknowledge. "But the question stands..."

In the silence that followed, Victor took another deep breath. "...I think I may have another idea." That finally caught Pravda's notice, and she cast him half a glance as he continued, slowly moving towards the Spire. "Soner, I think...I think this may be the time to take you up on that suggestion."

Pravda blinked. Soner did as well, and then, once he realized the implication, grinned.

—--------------

They waited until dark to cross the water. The Spire itself cast some light, but not enough to cancel all of the shadows that were made - they were able to close the distance up against it before too much time had passed. The packs and supplies had been left behind, tucked away safely to allow them to move swiftly and silently. And once they reached the base of the structure, Victor took point, placing a hand against its smooth surface before reaching for Rhisling.

This would be the first time he'd tried a spacebridge so close to itself, and for a moment, he felt some resistance - as if Rhisling itself was fighting him. Perhaps one of those safeguards Primus had once mentioned, but all it was to him right now was a barrier. Grimacing, he tried once more, adding a bit more 'space' between here and there - that did it, its golden shapes forming a hole in the metal and exposing what appeared to be no small amount of electrical wires, tubing, and other structural forms. Soner climbed through first, followed by Victor, and Pravda took the rear in stony silence.

She'd hardly said a word to Victor since his outburst, and shame warred with exasperation. But dwelling on such thoughts would only distract him; already, his heart felt light and warm enough to stave off any damp chill as the spacebridge closed and left them trapped within the Spire's walls. But Soner tugged at Victor's wrist, leading him forwards, and Pravda didn't resist as Victor took her own to create a chain in the near-total darkness. There was just enough light for his vision to make out the shapes, and apparently, Soner's vision was similar; he led the way as they climbed over, up, and through the strange 'terrain'.

Briefly, Victor wondered how he was deciding which way to go - but as Soner abruptly stopped, Victor could hear the warbling sounds of Quintessons, and himself froze as Soner peered through the slats of a vent. After but a moment of hesitation, Victor joined him, trying to make out what they were saying for a few moments before giving up. Soner, on the other hand, seemed to be paying close attention, and Victor next wondered if he actually understood the language.

Curious, if he did. He turned to sight Pravda, but startled when he noticed she was gone. Almost, almost he called her name, but another sound from the Quintessons moving through the hallway kept him silent; instead, he bit his lip, hoping that she was only checking something they'd passed-

-gone off on her own to get lost-

-another thought that felt almost alien. He was having too many of them lately. But he did see movement, now, back towards where they'd been - and a glint of blue he recognized as the soft, Quintesson-created glow of her eyes peering through another series of slats. Touching Soner's shoulder to signal, he began to move back, only whispering once he got close enough he was certain she could hear.

"What are you doing-?"

She turned towards him, then turned back towards the vent. He joined her a moment later, sucking in a sharp breath of surprise as he caught sight of what had gained her attention so.

When Victor had been held in a Spire, he had more or less been kept in a holding pen; a deep depression in the floor where he and his fellow test subjects had been kept when not being directly used. He remembered, too, something like that during initial Processing, but what lay on the other side was completely different. A holding pen of sorts, yes, but larger and almost terrarium-like, an artificial slice of nature that may as well have been cut out from the desert they had crossed and placed right in the Spire itself...

And it was full of Beastmen.