TW. Fairly graphic torture. Not the blood and bones kind, but still torture nonetheless.

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Chains rattled through the air, and the tranquil silence was broken by a pained cough.

The world was a blur, the air was uneasy, threatening. It was suffocating .

Another cough rang out.

An array of shady figures stood firmly at front. Piercing gazes cut through the tension in anticipation.

There was one last singular cough, and then there was no longer a pause. They were properly choking in pain. Disrupting that was the sound of a single pair of hands clapping.

"Perfect, we're right on schedule!" The shorter watcher giggled, turning to the others, "They're coming back to themselves."

Remaining watchers exchanged amused looks. The one leading the bunch had a smile of malice as they snapped their fingers, humming smoothly. "Zeichi, that's your cue."

The mentioned watcher separated themselves from the crowd with a step back.

"Thank you, Nixye," She dipped a bow politely, promptly rising back up. "I'll be heading out, excuse me."

She began walking to the exit at the back, with Jaxa giving her a thumbs up as she walked out.

"Best lucks, Zei!" He called out loudly, waving at the open door.

The watcher left the room. Nixye clasped their hands, regathering the attention in the room.

"Splendid, simply excellent! Now," The portal watcher's grin turned sinister as they turned back to Iskall. "Gazes back to our captive, peers. They've awoken."

Eyes went back to their original view of interest, the figure still gurgling out in pain. They laid limply at the corner of the room, binded painfully tight by magic chains. Though, really, the chains were not a necessity, as they were simply too weak to move regardless. The only use it had is to hold them up from doing anything horribly reckless.

Speaking of, Iskall was irregularly pale, sickly even. Cracks of electricity sizzled throughout their skin. Occasionally, a small cry of hurt let itself out. They were only slightly struggling in their binds, twitching at every sharp spark of agony, all of their energy absorbed and completely gone.

Nixye hummed in content, eyes glinting behind their mask. That's the effect it's supposed to have, indicating the success so far.

Then, they looked away, addressing the younger division head besides them. "Jaxa, have you ever turned a player before this?"

He blinked, thinking, "Of course, I have. But Rache- er, Zeichi was a... little more willing than, uh- this. "

He gestured vaguely to the crippled up hermit. Nixye nodded in satisfaction.

"Then, help me out on this," They spoke with a small smile. "Your division's part of the mission has ended anyways. You could lend your magic, I'll need mine."

Jaxa shrugged, coming forth. "Fine by me."

He walked over to the hermit, who involuntarily flinched in that instant. Jaxa kneeled down, and observed, as more of the subtler turning symptoms were now more visible up close.

It was possible to catch glimpses of purple hues going through the body, carving it's home inside the host below the skin. Iskall was shaking , and they probably won't be able to fight much despite being adept at combat. The magic flowed through the veins, causing various erratic reactions and sudden spikes in discomfort.

The closest thing you could compare it to is getting stabbed by thousands of blades from the inside, over and over, throughout your entire body. It's as agonizing as it sounds, and Iskall sounds like they're dying .

Or wishes they could, anyways. Truly, it's an agonizing experience, especially when done by force.

"Perhaps another large dose of magic will do." Nixye snickers over Jaxa's shoulder. He nods briefly, extending a hand to grip Iskall's shoulder unkindly. They flinched.

Seconds later, the room echoed with the loud noise of crackling electrical energy.

Another pained shriek followed.

Then, the sizzling stopped, as well as the screaming. Followed after was silence, highlighting the heavy, erratic sounds of forced breathing.

Jaxa cringes, instinctively taking his hand off to look at himself. And thus, without support, the hermit dropped back to the floor with a pathetic thud.

"Ew, you're right. That does take a lot of energy." Jaxa mumbled, almost annoyed.

The older nearly sneers at his surprise, though their voice retained the composed tone.

"You'll get used to it. I have no idea how you were appointed head of division when you haven't done this at least once," They assured him sweetly, "Be prideful of this - of what you've done. This is an experience for you."

Below them, Iskall's breathing became more ragged by the seconds, struggling uselessly against his binds. They couldn't think - they couldn't hear, speak, or anything. Their heart was convulsing wildly, the bones actually rattling without any input. Their skin felt like it was cracking, and there's the ever-present feeling that they were about to throw up, puke all of their insides out, but nothing comes out but a bit of blood. They keep coughing, and their mechanical eye suddenly feels heavy on his face, tears pooling around the real one. The magic buzzing in his veins, the buzzing. It was maddening. Deafening . Excruciating.

They're barely able to mumble or curse out a single syllable, but when they do, all of the watchers watching unanimously froze.

Nixye's eyes widen, as if the cry for help was the most amusing joke they've ever heard.

" Xelqua? " They jeered, verging on hysterical. "Are you really inquiring about Xelqua , now? Seriously? Oh please, he betrayed you! Get over it."

Jaxa chuckled with them, grinning wildly. "Players, always so trusting and emotional."

"Well, they seem to still be too clear headed for my liking," Nixye sighed with mock disappointment. They snapped their fingers. "This calls for another dose. Jaxa, if you will."

The hand reached out once again.

"With pleasure."

***

Grian practically barged into the room, and all eyes were set on him as he beelined to a particular watcher across the room.

"Gri- Xelqua, welcome back," SB greeted him, momentarily taken aback.

"Zyno!" Grian inquired regardless, seeming a little out of breath, "I need the report - everything going good?"

SB was surprised, though hastily snapped out of it and shrugged. "Of course, don't worry about it. The fight stalled on for just enough, we were able to take all the steps, even with the owner still watching in the overworld. There was a bit of a struggle from him, as we've thought of beforehand, but with Xisumavoid not being able to access the owner's perms and us being able to, it wasn't much of an issue."

Grian sagged in relief, "Alright, alright. That's good."

"Yea," SB agreed, swiping his hand to close the holograms. Turning off his communicator, he faced Grian to ask; "How were things on your end? Was everything according to plan?"

"We managed to get a player, and by calculated chance actually a really good one. We managed to get them here safely, and I think they're getting turned as we speak."

"Awesome. Glad everything's going well for you."

And now, there was silence, because there was nothing left to really do. SB gestured for him to sit down, and he did. They were on wait until the signal comes in. The second to last signal, their cue to begin the main attack.

When it's given, the supporting watchers will be tasked with keeping tabs on the server status from the outside, and Grian will have to join in on the inside for the strategizing. To finally finish this god forbidden mission. Good riddance.

A thought makes its way into his head, but he's quicker to beat it back down. Shaking his head, he looks over the place to ground himself.

"You know, we've, like, yet to properly talk about it," SB suddenly spoke up, moving out of his thinking pose, straightening. "You made the attack happen sooner than it was scheduled to, but luckily for you everything was already in order so it still ended well."

Grian murmured an agreement, tapping on the desk. "Yep. Extremely lucky for that fact. Bless the Enders."

After a pause, SB spoke, almost hesitantly. "You sure you're able to do this?"

And genuinely, Grian fumed .

"We've come this far already, still asking that?!" He rises up suddenly, catching SB in surprise. A few watchers in the area had again stopped working, and turned to them to see what's happening.

Realizing that, he forces himself to control his volume again, calming down to properly rant. "Regardless of what I can and cannot do, we're at a point of no return now, like- genuinely!"

Grian wasn't dumb, of course he wasn't. From the start of the mission, he'd immediately caught on to the ever present doubt. Maybe it was the fact that the watchers had thought he'd softened up after 3 years. Maybe it was because he was new. He has no idea, but he knows it's there.

And underneath, he's got to admit, he despises it. Despises how despite all the preparations, the clear plans, everyone still somehow doubted his abilities.

He bites his tongue, gritting the rest of his thoughts out as he sits back down. "We've declared war, now's our time to wage it. We know the enemy, we've taken our time. Thus, there's statistically a very low chance they get out alive. We will win."

He says the last part with certainty, resolve. Power.

Apparently, it's convincing enough.

"True that, your plan guaranteed that, all's left to do is let the attack division handle it from here," SB remarks, moving a hand to fiddle with his communicator.

There was another long pause in the conversation when neither said anything. All the watchers have focused back to their stations, and even SB has turned his communicator back on to view something.

"So, the... special cases team? How are they?" Grian said the next first worry that came to mind, just another thing to fill in the silence.

SB didn't fully look to talk at him this time, typing something. "You mean the rogue and the listener traitor? They're with the attack division right now, I'm fairly certain. They're a part of the attack force, as you suggested."

"Are they cooperating?"

"The usual amount of cooperation."

"Go figure," Grian huffs, relaxing into the chair. He stills, "D'you reckon if the plan fails somehow, we could just hold both for hostage and see if their brother's give enough shits to try to stupidly save them somehow?"

"That'd be quite a plan, actually. But then again, I'm quite confident enough in your current." The other watcher chuckles lightly.

At that, Grian scoffed, though it came out lighter than how he actually intended. "Oh, so 5you're confident in me, wow, I see how it is, switcher upper."

And then, the talk ceased when another watcher came walking into the room, garnering the attention of everyone in the room with two simple snaps.

"Xelqua, you're up. Follow me," Zeichi called on in her usual business tone; tired, cold and blunt. "Zyno, back to your station until your next signal."

Grian rises up, "I'm getting called in early?"

Zeichi nods briefly at him. "Indeed. Krax has a few questions for you," She states, "The attack will still be held on schedule."

With that statement clear, she starts walking out, a clear cue for Grian to follow. He turns to SB, who nods and gives him a smile, "Good luck!"

"You too," He replied, promptly running out of the room after Zeichi.

He closed the door behind him, and goes out to the halls where the Commander and a group of other watchers he's never seen before waited for him. He glanced briefly at them, though none of them said a word to him. He doesn't bother filling in with his usual chatter either. They already know who he is, and he needs not worry who they are. He turns to Zeichi.

"Good," She commented shortly, ushering him along. "Now, carry on, everybody."

The group of watchers followed suit in uneasy silence. Well, uneasy for Grian, anticipatory for the others, it seems. There's no doubt they've done this countless of times, seen worlds after worlds crumble, while this is only his second time.

Only. Isn't that a wild thought to make.

He doesn't say a word, forcing his mind into white noise as he walked, trying his best to not think about where they're heading, what they're going to be doing.

Zeichi led the small group of watchers through the heart of the headquarters. They eventually went deeper, and deeper down. Down below, and now they're at what's known as the "captive area".

Grian's feet touched the cold, darker end stone tiles, and they finally reached the prisoner area. Cobwebs on the walls, cracked walls. To be expected, no one bothers with keeping this place taken care of.

Most of the cells were empty, of course, because they rarely cared to take captives and keep them in one piece consistently. Keeping a prisoner well enough to not die in captivity is apparently out of their realm of capabilities, in which cruelty still holds number one.

Just then, they passed by an occupied cell. For a moment, Grian accidentally spares a glimpse at the resident, and then he subconsiously stops on his heels. Waves of dread wash over him as he freezes in that moment of shock.

Welsknignt.

Brown hair messy and undone, armor damaged. Left tattered on the floor carelessly, unconscious and bleeding. If it weren't for the slow rising of his chest, Grian would've mistaken him for a corpse.

It was abundantly clear they don't actually plan on keeping him alive.

Something in him clenched, but he had to ignore it. It's not for him to acknowledge. There's nothing there for him. There's nothing left.

Welsknignt is as good as dead, and he's okay with it. He's convinced he's okay with it.

Zeichi's voice echoed through the crimson soaked chamber halls, cutting through his turmoil. "Xelqua, come on now, follow along."

He snaps up immediately, catching himself out of his head.

"Oh, er- yea! Coming, Zeichi!" He strings out meaninglessly, turning away and walking after the other watchers.

He forced himself to look away.

He forces himself to be blind.