Dante's Abyss Spectators

[Skeletor]

Skeletor sat in his room, one hand held the strange red blob between thumb and forefinger. It wiggled slightly, the occasional pseudopod waving in the air. Skeletor thought he might have detected the vaguest humming, but it was unclear whether the sound came from the goo or simply the electric lights overhead.

“An artefact of power? Who would believe such prattle!” Skeletor muttered to himself, poking the blob with a clawed finger, a small tendril swung out in a futile attempt to retaliate, “You don’t radiate power of any sort! No magic glow, no aura to speak of, ‘the malefactor?’ eh? How pathetic! Karl Jak clearly doesn’t know what power truly is!”

Skeletor almost made to fling the pathetic goo ball into the corner of the room, when a small pseudopod managed to snag his finger. A strange feeling swept over him, and Skeletor’s hunched posture straightened stiffly. A curiosity swept over him and Skeletor focused his will. He had grown accustomed to voices in his head, that was nothing new, certainly. No, there was an undeniable… presence to this one that gave him pause. This was no mere echo of his own thoughts.

“What dark seed are you, my pulsing little friend?” Skeletor asked, his irritation now gone. The Orgosynth pulsed with a swell of excitement, shifting its mass to more firmly grasp his hand. Almost timidly, the voice established itself in his head.

I was called many things by many people, but for you I am a friend.

“I have no need for friends!” Skeletor sneered.

Or a tool. the voice adjusted without pausing I can help you achieve the victory that you seek, together our power will be far beyond what any foe can hope to overcome.

Skeletor cackled throwing his head back in a burst of laughter that likely disturbed anyone sleeping nearby. The Orgosynth paused, waiting to see which direction its newest host was headed.

“You have power for me to use?” the warlock spoke incredulously, staring down at the red membrane that clung to his fist, “Surely you must be joking! You look more pathetic than the child I took you from. You were of course quite helpful for her!” Again, the Malefactor’s response was smooth and immediate.

My power mirrors those who wield it. When they are strong, I make them legends. When they are weak… the Orgosynth trailed off, letting Skeletor draw whatever conclusions he would from the silence.

“Show me.” Skeletor said, standing up abruptly, “I am no weakling, let us see just how true your offer is!” The Malefactor was excited now, quickly sizing up its newest wielder. The crimson membrane slithered up Skeletor’s arm, to take its place on his back. The warlock shuddered, mostly convincing himself it was in anticipation and not unease.

This will need you too… the voice whispered as the membrane stretched tendrils along Skeletor’s frame, I can’t just give the power to you. You have to want it. Skeletor chuckled, head bowed forward. His skull vanished into the darkness of his hood.

“Believe me, I know what it means to want power.” Came his hoarsely muttered reply. Skeletor raised his havoc staff above his head with both hands, his voice growing loud and commanding. “Show me your power, Malefactor!”

You needn’t ask so loudly… the Orgosynth chided, though its voice betrayed its eagerness as its tendrils latched hard onto Skeletor’s back and limbs. The Havoc staff clattered to the floor as Skeletor staggered. The pain was his first response, followed quickly thereafter by a surge of power. Skeletor’s cackle once again split the dormitory, an eerie ringing who’s echoes hung in the corners of the room.

“INCREDIBLE!” Skeletor triumphed, flexing his fingers, “Not since I absorbed that nameless servant of Nebula have I felt such raw power!”

To be shaped and honed. the malefactor spoke, its timid front quickly fading as it better understood its new bearer, Together I can provide us with the power to achieve anything we dream of. But you must be the one to claim that destiny for yourself.

Skeletor clasped the Havoc staff with a newfound strength to his grip, and flung open the door to his room.

“Winning the tournament comes first, you putrescent puddle!” Skeletor japed, though the insult came more as a reflex than anything else. His thoughts were too scattered to put any effort into the putdown.

“Where is that bladed buffoon? I want to test just how much stronger we are now! If he’s still chattering at that clamorous Clydesdale then he will… ” The Malefactor hummed, pleased, but said nothing as Skeletor rambled on.

Barely any prodding at all. He had bonded their power just to see what it felt like.

This host would do just fine.