Sans Fear
He didn’t want to hear it; but the message rang clear. As the orc spat in his face, mouthing the words, Cypress could only hear himself repeating them in the echo of his own head.
‘Make her a weapon, or she’s dead.’
This vial… It was all wrong. The black and white swirling, these powers he knew nothing of. This was not fair, or what he wanted.
Cypress, at the time known simply as Doctor, argued back with the guards. He refused- but if he got too close, his collar shocked him. Every time, it got worse.
His dear friend, Alecka, screamed at him from her cage in the underground base. She pleaded, begged for him to just do as they say.
It took a beating, and the real threat of a blade to her throat for Cypress to finally stand to his feet and inject her with sha-tainted blood.
Some few years later, she was dead. And on this night, Cypress lie there, remembering every moment he had with her- and how no matter which way it was spun, her blood was on his hands.
