Devastation

[Gildarts]

The slow creak of waves splashed against the wood of a colossal sailboat. Stains of salt found their way into the fine etches of wood and nail and corroded all in its path. More powerful than time, or perhaps, more symbolic, was that of the ocean, or even, a single salt-infused wave. The wave lapped at the lower bow of the boat, and made frothing swishes that matched the slow ebb of the tide.

A snake-like creature dwelt in the shadows within a concealed cave, one that was hidden deep within the island. The island wasn’t much to look at, and even less to traverse. Across, it was probably no more than two- or three- hundred paces, and a little less than half as wide. However it was not the surface of this desolate island, nestled away in the darkest depths of the Vasty Deep, that made it so enticingly unique. If one was to stumble upon the wrong current of wave, they would be thrashed in an instant, due to the sheer force of the riptide, or swept away by the current, straight into the cliff face which was littered with sharp-toothed rocks.

If one happened to be crazy enough to drive their boat straight into the cliff, they would find that there was no cliff to collide with, for within the mirage of death and destruction, was the makings of an amazing safe house. One that no one in their right mind would entire with any ship worth sailing. Illusions like this were Behemoth’s specialty.

Sure, he was a secondary in this crazy, insane world. However, while his body’s primary muscles were decaying, as though he were sick, and destined to die due to an unfortunate and unescapable curse. Shadows flickered and danced in the dim light cast by lanterns and torches on the wall. They hissed as droplets of water would fall from the condensation accumulated on the daggers that hung from the cave’s uneven roof. Other illumination bounced off of the luminous gold that lay in great ripples all across a large platform, across from a secret shipyard that had accumulated so many boats, that it was impossible to count without a greater light.

Within this darkness, the kind that had not seen or tasted a hint of sunlight in so long, that the very rocks and water had learned to be nocturnal. Even the plankton in the water did not dare to swim so close to the mouth of the hidden cave. For the darkness was so cold it could be felt for a mile off of the island’s land; this darkness moved in such a way that gave one a sense that it was alive, alive with the evil that dwelled in a single man’s thought.

A figure, paler than a corpse, haunted within these shadows, and dashed out into the light only when he needed. Perhaps it as to snag a trinket from his endless pile, raided from the many ships in his shipyard, or perhaps his nose dribbled so profusely and his fingers had chilled done to his very bones, that he needed a small fragment of heat to keep the muscles alive.

Diamonds of black, surrounded by green, peered cautiously from the darkness, and the gaunt man chased away the cold as he wandered into the open ground, which was scattered with small mountains of gold.

 Why was he there, you ask?

Why would a man who could create such convincing illusions dwell in a place darker than the netherworlds, or if you prefer, the shadow realm? Behemoth -that was the name of the ‘man’ ... if one could call him that- had parted ways with his acquaintance Millie some time ago, and had not seen the woman since. It was only by chance that he had found a connection with this girl, and it was only fate that they part ways.

Behemoth had been left on his island to rot. And rot his body did, while his mind and power grew more than any man could imagine. If a boat sailed too close, Behemoth had ways of dealing with it. Ways that were ruthless, and offered little mercy to those who were unfortunate enough to pass too close.

There had been a news story published on the ONN about this a couple days ago, featuring Ron Burgandy, or something like that. Strange fellow, but it drew unwanted attention to the fiend’s continual act of war.

War against who, you might ask?

Well, this secondary has been marooned out on the island for some time. He could easily escape, though most of his boats are large pirate ships, or huge freighters, meant to be manned by well over thirty people, Behemoth had managed to steal every one. It didn’t seem like he had much of an interest in escaping his island, until he read one man’s thoughts, simply by happenstance.

“Did you hear about that one girl, she and a group of secondaries actually MADE it to the Oververse!”

“Yup, yup! And rumor has it, they came back as PRIMES! How unbelievable is that?”

“Completely unbelievable.” the man had agreed, “That really gives secondaries like us hope for the future too!” while his memories were tossed away by Behemoth’s selective taste.

His voice hissed as he spoke to himself, the crew had been paralyzed for several minutes while he raided their pantry. The stars were out, and glowing luminously. The moon was full and bright, sleek on the serpentine man’s scaly skin. “Yes yes, but where issss the proof?”

The thing was, Behemoth was a master of illusions and lies, so he wasn’t about to fall for one that seemed so outlandishly illogical. “I think I’d like to meet one of these.... Newborn Primessss...” Behemoth’s scowled, it didn’t exactly seem like there was any in his vicinity, and while the secondary was a master of waiting, the world had learned to age without him. It could’ve been eons before one of the select few that reportedly made it to the Oververse, came back, or happened to stroll near.

But there was hope, for something long and distant, told him that if there was no one around from that particular voyage, then there may just be one person who knew about the tale that had spun itself into a truth. Those secondaries that had graced the great and powerful Omni with their presence... Those secondaries would have more friends than perhaps, a prime-born individual.

This inkling was enough to rouse Behemoth the monster, from the safety of his own cage.

“W-w-what are you going to do with us?” the captain of the cargo vessel they both stood on had asked. The captain cowered in his own shoes, shaking, he was the only competent one left on the vessel, and well, the rest had resorted to a numbed expression, that left their jaws hanging in an incorrigibly disgusting way.

“Why...” Behemoth’s voice crept coldly from his mouth as his eyes, sharp, tore through the darkness, “I’m going to kill you of course.”

...

[Gildarts]

Behemoth stole the boat, but then grew very unsatisfied with it. It was a large one. Its cargo was worthless, not that a man who had hoarded many riches from all across the sea, could have cared much about that.

The secondary needed a boat. One to bring to shore, and the ones he stole were meant for traveling hundreds of knots through the great ocean. He was in a bit of a dilemma. It was not as though his illusions could bring shapes to life, no, he was no prime. He needed to steal one, if he was not able to make one.

It had become a routine, to steal things he needed. Ever since that... Behemoth paused as he thought of an accurate descriptor for Gildarts the Legendary Prime, there wasn’t much, other than powerful, or noble, but those stole the authority Behemoth perceived of himself, and decided to leave his thoughts at “the Prime, Gildarts” but yes, the two had escaped that hellish prison, a place where neither belonged.

Gildarts had been put there unjustly, or rather, partially... And Behemoth had paid for his sins, and thought that he deserved freedom, for he had grown very powerful, and slowly rose again to the surfaces of the deep.

Behemoth wondered where the Prime was now. Who he was now. Last the secondary had seen of him, he had died on screen, in a far away verse, on an island that had a purpose of only death. Strange, how that industry ran... Behemoth thought he would make a great assassin, but he never liked to do the dirty work himself. Politics, well, Coruscant really got under his skin, but Behemoth had no intention of testing his newly-refined powers on one who had mastered the same skill as he had.

Mind control was a funny thing, yes, ha-ha, funny. Funny because suddenly Behemoth found himself within their mind. If the individual was weak, then they would easily be corrupted. And if they were strong, such as a prime, or one who’s willpower was untestable, Behemoth usually left them be.

There had been a few on the secondary’s ‘night raids’ that had caught his eye. These individuals had caught his eye, unique, like a treasure, one might say. Behemoth let them live. But only if they were strong enough to survive. It was a bit of a test. If they were worthy, they would remember how to swim. If they remembered how to swim, there was a chance that they would live once more, rather than be forced to drown in the rapid turmoils of the deathly ocean.

Behemoth had a strange way of testing those he found interest in. It was borderline insanity- well, for them. For the Prime, Gildarts, he had waded too deeply into his mind, and it was nearly fatal for Behemoth himself. Magic dwelled there. And those who were wizards were not to be messed with. Then there were those with unique... attributes. Those who had a strong sense of intuition, those who wielded a power greater than they themselves knew. Those who were sometimes known as jedi. Unfortunately, these were a lost race. But in the Omniverse, one might have been lucky enough to find one. Then again, your luck could have just run out.

These people, jedi, were a strange race of men. It was a power in their blood that gave them abilities over matter. Not elemental, mind you, but simply, powers of persuasion. Of both mind and matter.

Behemoth was not one of this breed. But his daughter was. Whether she knew it or not. And it was his daughter he had searched for all this time.

All the wealth in the world was worth less to him than dirt if he did not find his daughter. Oh, you didn’t know? That was what all of this was for. The secret hide out, the abduction of ships, the developing of his mind-reading power. He was looking for a clue, in fact, he had been for months. And the trail that lasted twenty years had gone dry once more.

It was worse than prison for Behemoth, for he could not dream of escape, not without risking being caught or found. Sure, he could wipe people’s memories, but that took time and effort. It was much easier to do it when they were trapped on a ship, and had no-where to run, but into the ocean, where they would surely drown if they escaped. Those he raided were cornered, and while their minds were shipwrecked and their fates inevitable, he always kept the ship and stowed it away in his hideout. He could have let it free, or crash somewhere, however traces of larger items could be traced back by patterns of currents, echo-location, or otherwise scientific means.

Behemoth had visited a fortune teller, and he remembered her prediction vividly. She had told him his fate, along with his daughter, would be found in the Vasty Deep, so he had no purpose to leave his favorite verse. The fortune-teller had been helpful, so he had not bothered to treat her like the rest of his human playthings. He had paid her and left, she happened to have passed through Costa Del Sol on some sort of retreat or vacation, she originally was from the floating island of Dalaran. After the fact, he reckoned that she would not have given him an accurate prediction, for she may have been able to see if he had chosen to empty her thoughts as he had the rest. Behemoth was relieved at let the old mage have her thoughts, for what were they to him but more pieces to a slowly unfurling puzzle?

...

The following day, Behemoth set out to snag a small boat. One he could man himself, and it just so happened that one was passing by that day. The greed showed on his face, and a smile snaked its way across his lips.

The reach of his mind was cast and reeling. Suddenly the boat slowed, as if whoever was captaining the boat was already under his spell. He snickered and used his dingy, taken from one of the larger boats, and made his way out to the motorboat.

“Let me aboard.” he tested the waters, so to speak.

The man unwillingly extended a hand and once Behemoth was safely on the boat, he cocked his head to the side and swept the man’s mind. It was a singular boat, so it made sense there was only one inhabitant. It was a nice boat, sleek and fairly new. Behemoth read the man’s life story as though it were written plainly on his glinting green eyes.

Dusk had settled in the sky and nightfall was soon approaching. The man nearly revolted when he saw such a creature of the night, ghastly in shape and texture, pass over him with the essence like that of a ghost.

“My my, you’ve lived an exciting life. Where are you off to?” Behemoth asked, though he knew he didn’t have to. It WAS a game to him, after all.

“Who-”

“The question.” Behemoth insisted, never breaking eye contact.

“Right,” the man obeyed, willingly enough, “I’m off to....”

“Blah blah blah,” Behemoth said, suddenly annoyed and short tempered. He had found something in this man’s mind that he did not like. A scowl bent his slithering smile and his cheeks had hunched into an uneven frown. “Yes, I see you’re going home. You work well to support for your family, but they don’t know that you’ve earned every penny that you gain by your painstaking second job. Yes, you’ve told your wife a lie. I see it all, your lies, your pain, the suffering trials that time and your life have given to you.”

The man stood there, stupefied in his little haze, his eyes were watery, as though swept in a dream as he looked at his captor, Behemoth. “But to make this interesting, I propose we have a little talk, and perhaps a deal. Shall we?” The greed glittered in his eyes like gold, meanwhile the man looked back, Behemoth almost wished he could undo his charm, without fear this whole raid was completely... unstimulating.

Behemoth quickly sorted out the good and the bad from the man’s mind, there was a decent amount of good, and a decent amount of bad. The had cheated on his wife with numerous women, and once with her sister. It disgusted Behemoth even, so much so that he nearly regretted his offer.

“So you’re going to...” The man began.

“I’m going to pay you, to press a button on my island every 104 minutes.” He snickered. The idea was duplicated from this one show he had seen on the television. Prison got a lot of high and low quality television shows. Behemoth drank up the traces of fear in the man’s mind before continuing, “If you don’t, the island will blow up.”

The man’s jaw dropped.

“There’s no escape from the island. And if a boat comes to close, it is not to save you, but to take you away from your sanity. Your sanity is pressing the button every one hundred and four minutes.” The smile coiled on Behemoth’s face. “Oh, and you must do your best to keep my island clean while I’m away, I can’t have you making a mess everywhere.”

And just like that, the man had had his mind altered and changed. He rowed back on the dingy, though it also had a small motor built in. Behemoth was so certain in his abilities, that he did was sure that the man would do exactly as ordered, because Behemoth had offered enough ‘subliminal’ incentive to last any man a torturous lifetime. None of his treasure would be stolen, for he would seal and hide his cave off from the rest of his island, before attempting to use an older model of a cloaking device over the island itself, to keep the man from fleeing, or being taken away against his will.

The man would have to press that button -which was actually a coconut wedged into a rock, made to look, in the man’s mind, like an elaborate control system from some far-off universe, otherwise known as, Coruscant.

[Gildarts]

Behemoth was now the new captain of this fine vessel, the ships name was actually the Queen of the Waves and that suited him just fine.

The monster made landfall nearly at dawn. He had changed his clothing on the boat, so as not to gather attention, and in the morning when the sun came out, the snake hissed and clung to the shade, as though the world was not welcome if it did not involve living under his rock. He strolled through the streets, busy, as always, sifted through people’s minds.

He liked it when he found art and other beautiful gems among people’s minds, but there was no denying that he was a wolf in sheep’s fleece. He did not fit in, and his eyes wore a sinister expression as he crept through the crowd, while a group of young girls bounded through a farmer’s market that the town was having in a street.

Behemoth groaned. Already it was a few hours to sunset, and he had no leads. But wait! Suddenly the snake leapt out of his skin and shed his lack of hope for something much more interesting. His mind just happened upon a conversation, about a block away. It was the mind of a young girl, picking up a gallon of milk for her mother on her way home from school.

“That new girl was something else, she solved all those math problems in five minutes.” the girl discussed with her friend.

“I thought she was kind of weird,” the taller friend said, hoping to hide the insecurity she felt, when she noticed how threatening the feeling of replacement really was.

“Weird? What makes you say that? I like meeting different people, don’t you?” the shorter friend blinked innocently.

“Oh uh... Yes, of course, but I just-”

Now normally, something like this wouldn’t interest Behemoth in the slightest, but it was the quip that came next that really sealed the deal.

“Plus, her sister’s famous. Didn’t you see her story on the news? Funny that they chose to move here instead of somewhere else, but Primes do curious things now a days. If -I- were a Prime...”

Behemoth quickly filtered the child’s thoughts and found anything of importance. Finally, the school’s name. He sniggered and a triumphant smile overtook him. He wore his victory proudly as he weaved in and out of the crowd and meandered toward the direction of his next prey...

...

The school was pretty empty, save a few teachers packing up for the day. Behemoth growled as he waded his way through the hallways, and finally stumbled upon the front office, where, luckily enough, the guidance councilor and school registrar had not yet left.

“Hello!” Behemoth said, but with too much excitement, that it startled the woman who’s fingers were flicking through paper after paper of the same old thing. At the sound of his voice which resembled fingernails on a chalkboard to the poor young woman, she was given a fright, and, as though shocked by electricity. The papers went in the air, spreading widely throughout the room until settling everywhere, on the shelves, on her lap, and covering the floor. Sheets of papyrus covered the room like a soft layer of snow.

Behemoth snickered in his mind, as his expression grew frightful, to match hers. “Oh no! Are you alright? Oh my I can’t believe... I’m SO sorry...” the manipulation of the act was eaten up, hook, line, and sinker.

“Oh, phew! You gave me a fright sir,” she brushed the wrinkles from the the secretary-themed outfit she wore and began to collect the papers she had made a mess of.

“Oh let me help you with that, and may I again say I’m sorry?” Like a snake, he slithered into her den, and coiled around the carefree buoyancy of her personality.

“Oh that’s quite alright, quite alright, I’m always a little jumpy at the end of the day- oh you don’t have to- oh thank you very much sir...” she giggled and her glasses drooped from her nose, so she straightened them again and looked up at him. In his hands he held a fat stack of papers. She too had collected her share, and her eyes twinkled expectantly.

“So what’d you come in for?” she asked politely.

Behemoth didn’t need to read her mind, and began to start a story that made perfect sense, “Oh I came in because my daughter started her first day here, and I was going to pick her up, but I believe the bus already brought her home. Just my luck, right? But she should be on her way home to her mother as we speak. Then I kind of found myself worried about what classes she was taking, and I asked one of the teachers I met in the hallway... Oh what was her name? Mrs... Mrs. Tw-”

“Mrs. Tilly?” She filled in his blank and he snickered to himself, from behind the cloaking veil of his mask. Trust was an easy thing to make someone believe they had.. Oh so easy. The registrar smiled, “Oh she’s one of my closest friends... I love her sense of fashion, she teaches history, you know, and we are having lunch tomorrow at the local coffee shop.”

“I think my daughter is in her class...” Behemoth continued, but he had been a little shocked, for it seemed that the woman was not only deeming him trustworthy, the look in her eyes was completely and utterly, unnerving. It was full of infatuation and her eyes would not leave Behemoth’s features.

The man was of a very thin physique, and had little muscle on his body, which resembled that of someone who was addicted to cocaine or meth. His muscles were in a constant state of decay, from his many abused years locked up. However his skin was pale, and though his complexion was a little gray, his skin appeared as smooth as silk under the lighting, as though the sun had never touched it. Meanwhile, his eyes were glowing green and luminously, laden with an enticing power. Lastly, his nose and bone structure were protruding from his skin, made more evident by the fact that there was little if any fat on his bones. All of that, while his head was covered in a full stack of rich black hair, almost like a woman’s though his was scraggly and unkept, it rolled down well past his shoulder blades. Someone, like Cindy the registrar, may have seen him and though him exotic. Someone like Cindy may have found him distinctly collectible.

Behemoth hadn’t been flirted with in years. But that was not to say that he had forgotten the notions. And Cindy the registrar was enough his type. She wore glasses, and her attire was moderately formal, the glasses extenuated her blue eyes, and accented her eyelashes. Her nose rolled on a curved slope downward, and her cheeks popped out, young and fresh and vibrant in color, as though kissed by a rose. Her lips were a dazzling shade of ruby, she had recently applied lipstick and was looking to show off her full lips. They glistened now, even in the ugly, florescent lighting that cast a hue of graying color throughout the room. Behemoth’s eyes snagged on hers now, he couldn’t help it, the tone in her voice was undeniably attractive, and the curves of her body were becoming more and more irresistible.

“Well, what’s your na- I mean your daughter’s name.” Behemoth blinked and thought very carefully on his next decision.

“Katia. Katia Adams, oh and I’m William Adams, her father.” His decision proved fruitful in more than one way, as he knew the name of the girl he was searching for. And when he looked down, he found himself holding a file that had all her information written on it. Even her address.

“You’re Katia’s dad? Oh I met her today! Lovely girl, lovely girl, I can’t remember her saying much about her family other than her sister though, oh you’ve raised a fine daughter. Fine indeed. And your wife has raised a beautiful daughter.” Cindy suggested with a certain tilt of her eyes.

“Oh, uh, ex-wife,” Behemoth sluggishly suggested.

Cindy’s whole body perked up, even her eyes glinted as she accepted the new information, “Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that.” Her tone said the opposite.

“So.. Cindy...” Behemoth offered a not-too-subtle smile.

“Oh, how did you know my name!?” She looked startled again, but not fearfully so.

Behemoth’s gaunt hand made it’s way over to the desk, as he leaned over her in her chair and raised up the little sign perched outward that stated: “Registrar: Cindy Wineheart”

“Ah oh! Of course...” She blushed and batted her eyelashes.

“And may I say, Cindy, what a beautiful name...” behind Behemoth’s back, he slipped one piece of paper from the stack that he needed, and set down the rest, all while holding her eyes so easily with his.

...

Behemoth, or rather, William, had just found himself a girlfriend, they were having dinner the following day at eight at a restaurant she had suggested. Rarely did Behemoth play into the games that the plebeians liked, however the man thought someone at the school would be useful, and it would give him a reason to return, if need be. Though, it wasn’t like him of all people, needed an alibi.

The man continued to walk through the town before finding his boat and searching for a map. He was in luck, for there was one stashed in the glove compartment of the boat. It was crumpled but looked to be in fairly good condition. The address on the paper was P. Sherman 52 Walabi Way, and of course, it was just off the coast of this well-over-populated city.

Quite frankly, the city could’ve been empty for all he cared, save the one he was searching for. Her name was Katia, she was... What, ten years old? Pretty young, but seemed to have a keen mind. Something that fascinated Behemoth the more he thought about it. Sure, there were many proteges among the youth of the Omniverse, but none so closely affiliated with a famous secondary-turned prime. It was practically unheard of.

Behemoth’s plan was simple: Go to the address. A girl that young was bound to live with her sister. And if the Prime-turned sister wasn’t there? There would be ways of getting her to return. The monster grinned maliciously, and the propellers stirred in the water.

...

It took nearly no time at all for the man, well-versed in the intricate geography of the ocean and island verse, to find his way to the very doorstep of the girl he was searching for.

Slowly, his heavy boots clunked against wood. The wood of a dock, worn by both time and seawater. He grimaced as he grew closer to the shore, his stolen motorboat was tied to the very end of the dock, and their house was not far from the shore. It was embedded in a little cove, nestled in a distant pocket of Costa Del Sol, that made it seem like a distant and far off island, while still being part of the city itself. Behemoth wondered if they had school boats or buses, because times had changed since he had gone to school. A flutter of thoughts came to his mind as he neared the doorstep, and something in his stomach clenched, as though bracing for a threat. The feeling told him NOT to knock at the door, and, if he was reading it correctly, to beware. This girl.. There was something about her. Something that would not be safe or certain. What that was, however, Behemoth would have to find out.

[Gildarts]

The doorbell rang, through the door he could hear the clatter of forks, spoons, and knives as they scraped a layer of cheap ceramic dish ware into the every food they were eating. Suddenly the food stopped, he could sense the passing of curious looks, and exchange of questioning stares as it was finally decided who would get the door.

They had all sat down for dinner, the whole entire family. Behemoth’s eyebrow raised out of curiosity. Who were these people? There were no primes among them. Finally the door opened, and Behemoth put on his charming yet fragile “William” smile, but he also did not hesitate to make it quite clear who was in charge. “Oh, hi, sorry to bother you, but is Katia here?”

Martha blinked, hesitantly. She had been told to expect trouble, but not so soon. There was a waver of doubt on her face as she deliberated what she would say, and finally settled on, “Who are you?” As Katia looked up at the sound of her name.

Suddenly, the entire family she as living with didn’t matter. The door creaked open, and the rest of the family froze in that very instant. It was not that Behemoth had frozen the time, but he had merely extended his reach into everyone’s minds and pressed “pause” on their weak little brains.

Katia, however, was a different story. The girl had looked up, and struck him almost with an accusatory “YOU!” but she did not speak this, rather, the word formed in his mind telepathically. Behemoth almost snickered, by doing this, the young girl had given herself away. She was rather unskilled, and, vaguely sweeping the girl’s memories, it didn’t seem her sister knew about this particular ability.

“Ah, Katia, what a pleasure to finally meet you.” Behemoth let himself in, as he slinked past Martha and the doorway all together. “Do you know who I am?”

His eyes fixed on her as she pondered an answer, finally she concluded, after giving him a thorough mind-sweep, that she could not derive any information from the man. In-fact, she had never met anyone her power did not work on, this gave her a clue, if not an idea, of who -or what- had just entered through the front door. Finally she asked, “No, who exactly are you?”

“That’s unimportant at this time, not to say that I’m unimportant, but to say that you knowing, is.” He smiled, almost playfully, but below the surface, he too was trying to get a read on the telepathic girl, who made him feel oddly nostalgic.

“So, Katia, tell me about your sister, and the truth please,” he tested his limits, but waited patiently as images, sharp and powerful, sprung into the young girl’s mind, which he read, and welcomed the knowledge into his own.

An image of her was brought to life by a moving memory, one which Katia was powerless to withhold. It was “Christa” which appeared to be her name, in the Nexus. She was a tall woman in her mid to late twenties, she had blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She was quite attractive, but had a very strong air around her and carried an evident dominance in her casual yet poised posture. Her attire was scraggly, yet from her skin bounced a radiant glow, one that shimmered in the white light of the Nexus.

Tears were rolling down the woman’s cheeks, hot and fast, as she looked into Katia’s eyes. Behemoth saw it all from the youth’s shortness, suddenly Christa leapt forward and Katia was smothered in the warmth of a hug that HE felt. Behemoth was a bit startled, and recoiled at the thought of affection, as though it were an unwanted invader in his mind. Still, he continued to ‘watch’ the memory as though it were his own. Katia and Christa both wore great smiles on their faces, and Christa didn’t seem to want to let her sister go. They were reunited, Behemoth put together, after being apart for such a very long time.

Next, the secondary sought answers. What had caused this memory? Immediately, he saw the answers he was looking for, and they were not defended by any kind of firewall, no, despite Katia’s reluctance, she could not fight the sheer power of his mind within hers. She gritted her teeth too, because the experience of him digging for her memories was not only uncomfortable, but something she felt was very painful, for she felt every second of his mind probing hers.

Sharp tweaks, like needles, and the last memory flared in her mind. It seemed to be the death of the young girl, how sad. Christa held the ten year old in her arms, sobbing in some forgotten street in Coruscant. It was a bit sad... No, it WAS sad. Behemoth could feel it, and revolted again at the immense passion of the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He nearly hissed and receded away from her memories, he had attained what he had entered her mind for, the motive of Christa’s adventure, and the pivotal moment of her success -when she was able to summon her sister back to life once more.

While this was all more or less a review of history and events that had taken place within the last year or so of the Omniverse, Behemoth now looked at the girl. “So, your sister’s name is Christa, tell me, this time using words, how did she become a Prime?”

Apparently, Katia didn’t want to answer, and this grew more and more evident on her precious little pouting face. But her mouth, for some reason, moved without her will, and Katia’s tongue rolled on without her yielding it to stop. “Christa became a Prime after collecting a group of individuals- secondaries- to go to the Oververse. Apparently they made it, because, as you seem to be able to see, there she is, in her very Prime form.”

“Is it not unfortunate she did not ask Omni to make you a Prime?” Behemoth asked, “Perhaps in her steed?”

“I’m not sure what happened in the Oververse, because I wasn’t there. My sister was granted what she was by Omni, and she chose, with her newfound abilities, to bring me back to life. For that, I’m grateful.” Katia said stoically.

“Oh, are you now? Do you not resent your sister at all, for the world she has brought you back to?” Behemoth’s tongue snaked in his mouth as he suggested the temptation to believe this, one that he hoped might stain Katia’s mind black with the ever-so-powerful sin, that was doubt.

“No.” Katia’s answer was both honest and stern. She had a strong will. Making her nearly incorruptible. But there were other ways.

“I see. Well, I just thought the whole matter was fascinating, is all, when I heard that there was a secondary, if not an entire group of them, who had become Primes. After all, that kind of thing is pretty... Legendary.” Behemoth’s teeth, sharp and white, flashed in the evening light. He paused for a moment, noticing the young girl’s ample distraction as she looked at the void faces of those she was surrounded by.

“I bet you’re wondering what I did to them.” Behemoth mused, “I might tell you, if you tell me where your sister is.”

A flash of hidden knowledge struck through Katia’s mind. Behemoth waited, and Katia looked mournfully at the people around her. She shook her head reluctantly, denying her own curiosities, and told the devil simply, “No.”

“Understandable. However, you did just make this a lot simpler.” Behemoth turned now, suddenly, and looked the girl straight in the eye. He now spoke, “I came here looking for her you know, but now that I’m here, I think I’ll take you instead. Your mind is rather intriguing, as I can’t read it so simply as I can the commoners. You have a very special ability. Unfortunately for the others, this means their death.”

Flames of hot fire traced along his feet as Behemoth so subtly knocked over a candle, and set the carpet on fire. It spewed with liquid flame and traced all along the corners of the house, slowly making their way for Martha’s family, who were sitting at the kitchen table and staring blankly forward. Martha’s feet were glued to the ground, while smoke detectors suddenly blared in her ears. Katia screamed helplessly, and had sprung up, running to the table in an attempt to save them. However, no one would budge, Katia tried to move their seats, but they were like cement, and sealed into the ground. “Come on! WAKE UP!” She pleaded with the sleeping corpses of her new family.

Finally she gave up on those at the dinner table and reasoned quickly that Martha, who was standing, had the most probability to be awoken. She grabbed the woman’s hand, who had been like a mother to her for the last couple of days while Christa had been away, and now, because of her, she would die and like her house, go up in flames.

The whole room was nearly engulfed with fire now. Sweat formed on the young girl’s brow and stung at her eyes. She clenched her jaw, and used every muscle in her body to pull Martha’s arm out the door. Smoke singed at her lungs now, and the lack of air in the room was making the young girl woozy. It was too hot, her fingers and ears had turned red, meanwhile Katia was sure that the toes of her socks had been burnt through.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” Katia shrieked.

Behemoth stood near Martha, looking at the girl almost pityingly. His eyes glowed green, and were lit by the fire, while his expression was gaunt and unmoved by the young girl’s desperation. “Let her go or she’ll die!”

Behemoth seemed stirred by that remark, but not in the way Katia had hoped. Behemoth moved, only slightly, closer to caress Martha’s cheek. He paused and turned to her, sadistically letting the satisfied tones of his voice leak through, “Don’t you see? That’s the point?”

...

A chill of realization crept below Katia’s skin, death was one of the most fatal things she knew, and while it had not been an end-all for her or her sister, for other secondaries, it was all over.

Her sister!

The thought struck her, that was what this was all about. And sure, if Martha’s entire family died, Christa could bring them back to life, but that was only a conditional thought, and no one, the young girl thought and knew from experience, should have to go through death if she could help it. “If I tell you where she is will you stop this?” Katia pleaded.

“Perhaps,” Behemoth remarked nonchalantly as he tilted his ear closer, waiting expectantly.

“She’s gone to the Pale Moors, tracing back some rumor about murder and an epidemic. Now will you PLEASE stop this?!” Katia begged now, for she looked over to the dining room, and it was so full of smoke that she could not see the other kids any longer, meanwhile, flames knee-high crawled up the back of Martha’s legs. The smell of burnt flesh crept to the young girl’s nose as she nearly got down on her hands and knees, and begged the man to put out the fire.

“My dear, what makes you think that I can?” Behemoth’s tall form towered over her, and suddenly he seemed as though he was going to walk out of the door- no- that was exactly what he was doing.

“STOP! WAIT! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Katia’s voice screamed helplessly, hoarse from the fire and her own tears.

“Can’t I?” Behemoth turned back now, a little amused, but really his intrigue level was below zero. “I may just stop it, if you agree to come with me.”

“Okay, okay, anything... Just please.. Not this.. Don’t kill these people... They took me in.” Katia began to weep, the same deep tears that her sister had when she had witness her parents be brutally murdered and became an orphan.

Behemoth nearly got sick. He hated things like this, and it so deeply disgusted him, this vow of love, that he nearly just walked away right there, but still, he had done this fore a reason. And the fire still sizzled and simmered in the back round, as it continued to heat up the room. Behemoth took a step closer to the weeping girl, who was now on her knees at the doorway, begging for the lives of these meaningless people. It was all a little bit pathetic, but Behemoth could find the value in abusing the young girl’s emotions enough so that the very expression of her sorrow had a personal gain for him.

He extended his index and middle finger and placed the two fingers on her forehead. Katia was now in the room, sitting on the sofa, she blinked and the tears lessened as her lungs drew in clean air. It was like it never happened. The girl’s eyes swept the room, and Behemoth was closer to Katia now, and had stepped away from Martha, who was at the door, and the kids who were eating dinner at the table. They still had the blank expressions on their faces, but they weren’t dead, dying, or burning to death in their own house without the ability to run away.

Katia’s jaw dropped. “How did you...?”

“Sheesh, you’re lucky I didn’t actually light the house on fire,” was what Behemoth said with his mind, a little freer now, because he had asserted his immediate power of the girl, and their situation.

“It wasn’t.... real?” Katia muttered to herself, as though it were unfathomable.

“It was only as real as you made it. Now, come with me, or else they’ll actually die.” in his hand, Behemoth brandished a candle and poured its wax gently on the carpet, “Oh, and feel free to gather your things, while I eat dinner.”

On his lips, his sinister smile glowed with the candle light beaming from below his chin. He looked like an evil monster, the hollows of his eyes were dark, while the pupils looked sharp and venomous. His skin was sickly pale and his cheeks were chiseled mountains, defined by the contours of shadows on the hollows of his jawline.

It was in that very moment, Katia felt as though she had sold her own soul to the very devil himself.

[Tearen Wover]

Millie emerged in Costa Del Sol on the other side of the Nexus Gate with a sharp sigh.

After all her wandering. After all of her attempts to find a new, better place to live, she had wound up back here in her hometown. Leviathan wasn't sure what exactly it was that called her back to this Empire ridden dump. Maybe a part of who she used to be was still ambient enough in her mind to compel her to return home. It could also be because after spending so much time alone, it might be nice to go visit an old friend...even if the bastard was a walking snake.

A crushingly cheerful sun beat down on Millie as she drove her swoop bike slowly through the busy bazaar streets, crowds of shoppers weaving around stormtrooper patrols with nervous glances and hushed whispers. Millie would have liked to say she wasn't afraid like these clowns, but the fact that she had taken great pains to hide her stolen armor and weaponry in the boot was fairly damning evidence to the contrary.

This healthy paranoia served as a healthy distraction from the most pertinent question, however; where the hell did she expect to find Behemoth? It had been weeks since she last left the man's hideout in search of her own fortune. As it turned out, that kind of thinking was a crock of shit. Besides, it wasn't like working for some retired pirate king was her resigning her destiny. Not if it was her damn choice, anyway.

Oh wait, hadn't she seen Behemoth post some stuff on Omnitwitter a while back?

The musclebound black girl pulled her swoop to a stop and withdrew her rugged, well weathered dataverse device from the confines of her cargo pants and began tapping away...

[Gildarts]

Hours became days, days became weeks, and after a few, many things had indeed changed. Behemoth dwelled in the shadows, holding the girl, Katia, captive until she had talked, or at least, had lost the will to resist, and when that happened, Behemoth learned more than he could have ever wished. Behemoth learned everything.

The secondary had gotten several sunburns on his visits to the school, which he allowed the girl to go to, on special occasions. She would learn much more where Behemoth was keeping her, after all. The family she had been staying with? That was easy. Warping the mind was simple, if you knew your way around it. He had, however, come to the dilemma to simply erase their memories -since he had learned long ago that killing or causing the deaths of those he had encountered actually caused more suspicion, than causing his enemies more suffering than death could provide- though, Behemoth would’ve liked to cover his tracks more efficiently, he erased the memories of Martha and the family, and instead left them, at the much persistent pleas of the girl, Katia, let them alone after that.

Perhaps after this whole fiasco and scheme was done, he’d finish them like the pests they were. Until then however, the happiness of the girl meant that she would be willing to train. Behemoth had plans for her, big plans, and even larger for her sister. A sinister smile crept up where only shadows met the corners of his mouth. Today however, Katia was at school. She knew the consequences if she attempted anything, especially with that sister of hers simply a phone call away, and growing stronger and stronger every day.

The kidnapper kept an eye on the girl throughout the day, as well as visited his hot date, some secretary that worked in the school office. She was useful, among other things. Though he didn’t have to keep a physical eye on the girl, since it would be easy for Behemoth to tell if the girl had sent a message, or vice versa, due to his telepathic abilities, he had found himself enjoying the mayhem he caused when he left his hidden cave. His abilities, when he wanted them to, had a most powerful effect on people, and luckily, sometimes Primes. Not only were they unrivaled, but they were nearly immune to the feeble protests Katia’s own abilities had put up. Had it all been a rouse, and the girl, playing ‘nice’ only to risk it all on one vain attempt to get in touch with her prime sister who had deserted her, and was God knew where, it was safe to say that Behemoth would know.

As he was browsing the streets, he thought he caught a flicker of a familiar thought, and as he turned the street corner, having in fact seen Millie, swarming the streets, he had also been caught by new of something, which was spreading faster than wildfire in the minds of the many.

Crowds had not only formed around a poster, but the collected mind of society was also remarking about a certain announcement made by a very famous man on the news. In order to confirm this, however, Behemoth rushed to the nearest poster, assigned to many walls that very morning, in the streets of Costa Del Sol. It was, as you might believe, a very simple poster.

Still, Behemoth hissed as he tore it away from the wall, and held it in his hands for a variable second, before allowing the thick parchment to crumple in the rage of his healthier hands.

The poster was for Karl Jak’s newest “event” which was sure to be publicized, Behemoth’s snarl turned into a smile, and the next thing the secondary did was go online, and watch the video, baiting in primes of all kinds to come and investigate a mystery on his island.

Behemoth’s hopes rose at the thought of a gateway where anything could be. The video concluded, and the man knew what he had to do. It was time to use the many cards in his deck, to get the one thing he wanted most. He would bet anything and everything to get the thing his life had lacked for too long, the loss that had driven the man insane.

It took him not moments, but what seemed like sooner still, to rush out from the city streets in a blaze of passion, and dial a very particular number on the girl’s phone. He could finally have everything he wanted, and Behemoth, had been waiting long enough.