Night Come Down

Chapter 10 "Transform"

Vulcanalia jolts to attention from staring out the window in the throne room, an imprint of her hand against her cheek. She looks to the door, satisfied that no one was about to enter. She sighed before looking to the Drekar hanging over the outskirts, barely visible through the storm and setting sun. She watched nervously as the storm picked up the pace, reaching the gates before stopping. The upper portion of the pyramid collapsed downward and inward, and Vulcanalia felt a sudden pain in the palm of her right hand. She gasped out of shock and watched as the scar on her hand began to slowly fade.

This meant only one thing to her; Kal'ia was injured, and her life was fading. She looked around the room in a panicked manner before letting out a blast of magenta energy towards the window, shattering it and causing the door to rumble. She quickly shapeshifted into a Lorinthian once she heard the door rattle, taking on the appearance of the engineer from earlier. The door opened with No'lo and a couple guards, weapons drawn.

No'lo; "Numeeva? I thought you went back home... Where's Kal'ia?"

Vulcanalia; *as Numeeva* "I... I don't know! I just came in here and she was gone!"

One of the guards puts a pair of fingers on the side of their helmet, gasping quietly.

Guard; "Sir, one of the patrollers reports Kal'ias' personal speeder is missing."

No'lo; "Goddesses no... Did she leave for the ship herself?"

Vulcanalia; "We need to find out! Get the reserve!"

Vulcanalia ran past the three and the two guards followed, leaving No'lo to see magenta residue on the floor near the window and door.

At the gates, the reserve Lorinthian soldiers drove out to the collapsed wreckage of the pyramid in APCs, weapons drawn. Vulcanalia kept her disguise up, even as her APC was the first to reach the wreck. She used her divine sight to try and look through the crumbled stone to find her soul, but she couldn't see through the stone. What she knew for sure, though, was the Drekar was dead. All the veins, capillaries and arteries that were invisible to the mortals around her were dry and shriveled up, leading from every single flek of stone to a red cylinder with a portion of it caved in, crystalized ruby fluid around it.

Soldiers proceeded to wrap chains and hooks around the stone to drag it away and spread it out, and it didn't take long for them to find the blackened bones of the Neth. Vulcanalia stepped over the debris, making her way to the core of the Drekar as the soldiers began clearing the stone away. Once she reached the core, her mandibles twitched and barely let out breath as she muttered to herself.

Vulcanalia; "Penceroboh..."

Her tone held both recognition and disgust as she examined the remains of the Drekars' heart. She considered moving some of the stone herself, even though it would utterly blow her cover... That was, until, she heard a faint groan nearby. She looked to see Kal'ias' bruised and bloody hand sticking up from the stone, her wrist bent unnaturally. Vulcanalia yelled out at the top of her freshly materialized lungs for the soldiers to come clear the area.

Vulcanalia; *shouting* "She's here!"

As if time had slowed down immensely, the soldiers came and wrapped chains around the hunks of rock around Kal'ia, a few coming over and using their strength to push the stone away. They found Kal'ia, her abdomen and chest crushed by the obsidian like material. No'lo ran to her side as the disguised Vulcanalia kept her distance.

No'lo; "Kal'ia... My Empress... Why would you do this‽"

Kal'ia; "... I-I am to lead by example... And I did... Lorinthia is safe... For now..."

She closed her eyes and let out a precious few more breaths before she went silent. No'lo put his hands on her shoulders, moving a pair of fingers to check her pulse. Vulcanalia didn't even have to do that; She saw an orange mist dissipate from Kal'ia, signifying her Iskel moving from here to the afterlife. No'lo held back tears as he lifted Kal'ias' body and carried her onto an APC and they began the long drive back to Qo'nos, going slow enough that the grieving Lorinthian soldiers could keep pace whilst walking. Once far enough away, Vulcanalia sniffled and let her mortal form collapse into a magenta dust, drifting away in the wind.

No'lo held a funeral for her that night, a piece of the Drekar stone beside him. He dabs a tissue against his eyes before continuing the eulogy. There were three senior Lorinthians standing behind him, a black, chalky stripe going down the right side of their face.

No'lo; "... And so... As my first decree as acting Emperor... Today marks the birth of the Mi'slu'chugh; the wise council, composed of the wisest Lorinthian of each clan. They are to guide the Emperor and Empress whenever they may need advice."

The tomb holding her body was moved into a room in the Capitol as No'lo continued to speak.

No'lo; "The tomb may be visited by all, but it is to not be opened. The Empress' body is to not be exhumed. This is the word of the Emperor and of Vulcanalia; Warriors laid to rest shall be left to rest."

As the tomb was closed, Lorinthians from the crowd came one at a time to the Drekar stone, scraping off dust from the rock and rubbing it downward from their forehead, across their right eye, to their neck.

The tomb closes.

Time passes.

Days.

The lights run out of battery.

Months.

The marble walls turn green and crumble.

Years.

Flora begins to grow inside the crypt.

Centuries.

Nocturnal animals make their home inside.

Millennia.

The original marble door is concealed by vines and plants.

Eons.

...

The tomb opens to two Lorinthians in sleek, green armor with a painted black stripe running down the right side of their armor. One drew directed-energy pistols and slowly approached the casket as the other sighed, his voice deep and gravelly, like someone rolled up a cigar with asphalt and smoked it with volcano fumes.

Male; "Would you stop that? She's not gonna rise from the dead as soon as you touch the coffin."

The other, her voice feminine, adjusted her grips on her pistols.

Female; "It's policy, sir; Weapons are to remain at the ready until the there's no doubt of a threat."

Male; "I doubt there's anything dangerous to a Division Eleven operative in here."

He walked over to the casket and took out a small stick from a pocket on his armor. He held it up to his left wrist and it let out a blue flame, igniting the stick. The flame illuminated a plate embedded into his armor that read "Geroxee, R'tas". He put the stick in between his right mandibles and took a puff, the orange glow illuminating his young and scarred face.

R'tas; "Open it up."

Female; "... Alright, your fault if you're strangled by a Neth."

She holsters her pistols and slowly drags the lid off the coffin, revealing the slightly shiny, and not blackened, skeleton of Kal'ia.

R'tas; "We've been over this, Vatch: it's non-transmissible."

He takes out another cylinder from a pocket in his armor and places it on Kal'ias' hip bone. A small whirr and a puff of smoke followed before R'tas removed the cylinder; a miniscule hole now in the bone. He took another puff from the stick before looking at the sample within.

Vatch; "Well... That was unexpectedly easy."

R'tas; "I agree... Let's get this back to the lab."