"What the hell?" Lex's mind was a whirl of confusion as the eyeless man's words hung in the air like a heavy fog. Liege? Why would he strap me down like this if I were his liege? The thought didn't make sense. The room around her felt cold, as if the walls were closing in, shadows stretching across the stone floor. Her body ached from the restraints, the pressure against her skin suffocating.
As the man drew nearer, his empty, sightless face looming over hers, Lex narrowed her eyes, trying to steady her racing thoughts. I have to stay calm. I can talk my way out of this. She shifted slightly in her restraints, then spoke with forced confidence.
"If I am your liege, you'll release me," she demanded, her voice sharp, though uncertainty gnawed at her. She didn't believe for a second that this strange man would listen, but she had to try. The room felt like it was pressing in on her, the flickering light from a single candle casting grotesque shadows that seemed to move of their own accord.
The man didn't even blink, or well he couldn't. "I'm sorry, my liege. I'm doing this under your orders," he said, his tone too calm, too reverent.
Without a word, he walked over to a small wooden cupboard and pulled out a delicate crystal wine glass. The sound of glass scraping against wood echoed unnervingly in the silent room. He walked back to her, his unseeing face hovering next to hers as he sat down. The air grew thick, almost too thick to breathe, as the shadows seemed to twist around him.
"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY ORDERS?" Lex screamed, the frustration boiling in her chest. "WHO ARE YOU? WHY AM I HERE?" She struggled against the restraints with all her strength, but it was futile. Her anger only seemed to intensify, each movement more desperate than the last.
The man's cold, emotionless voice interrupted her frenzied thoughts. "I'm sorry, my liege." His words, soft and eerie, didn't waver. "I am only following your orders." His gaze drifted away from her, and he started arranging small metal boxes in front of him, each one holding a different vial. The largest box contained something that made Lex's stomach lurch—a decayed, rotting eyeball, swollen and shriveled, oozing some dark, sickly substance. The stench was immediate and overwhelming. Lex's head spun, and her throat burned as she fought the urge to vomit.
The man didn't flinch. He simply muttered under his breath, as though the foul sight and smell were of no consequence to him. "Ah, my liege, I will begin concocting your Pariah potion now. Then you may begin what you came here to do."
He opened a vial, pouring a thick, swirling mist into the crystal glass. The substance inside the vial was an unnatural shade, like a storm cloud trapped in a bottle. Then, he added a clear liquid that could only be described as holy water, followed by the grotesque eyeball. The liquid in the chalice shifted, the color deepening from an eerie blue to a dark, blood-red. It shimmered unnaturally, almost as if the potion were alive, pulsing with some hidden energy.
Lex watched, both repelled and fascinated. There was something hypnotic about the way the potion came together, like some forbidden magic she couldn't tear her eyes away from.
"Sequence 9: Pariah," the man intoned, his voice low and reverberating. "Ingredients: 1 Absent Zombie Eye, 10 ml of fog from the Fog Sea, 10 ml of holy water from any church." He spoke the words with reverence, as though the potion itself was sacred. "Upon consumption, one shall be marked forever. As you wished it, my liege, this is as far as I can go for now. I must return and await your arrival. Clear your mind."
The mention of Pariah sent a chill racing through Lex's body, something instinctive. She didn't understand why, but the word felt... familiar. A knot twisted in her stomach, an unsettling mix of dread and recognition. She tried to shake the feeling, but the weight of it clung to her. The man raised the chalice to her lips, his pale fingers trembling slightly as the liquid inside caught the light.
"Drink," he whispered.
It was an order, not a request.
Lex hesitated, her mind clouded, but then she tilted her head back and took a slow sip. The taste was strange, a mixture of bitterness and sharpness, with an underlying metallic tang—like blood. But there was something else, something far darker hidden in the flavor, something she couldn't identify. Her stomach lurched, but she swallowed, feeling the liquid slide down her throat.
The man's next movement was a blur. He slashed his own wrist open, and his blood began to mix with the potion in the chalice. It spread through the liquid like a dark shadow, merging with the swirling mixture in a grotesque dance. Lex watched in a strange, detached trance as his body seemed to dissolve, fading into nothingness, leaving only the echo of his presence behind.
The potion burned its way through her body, and a cold wave of discomfort swept over her chest. It was quickly replaced by something darker—a surge of rage, then a sharp, primal hatred. Her emotions spiraled out of control, each feeling magnified to an extreme. Her body seemed to crack under the pressure, her skin burning, her blood feeling like it was boiling in her veins. Her teeth gritted as the pain tore through her, making her want to scream.
Then, as if the world had shifted, it all suddenly stopped. The pain dulled, leaving her with a deep, gnawing emptiness. A strange clarity settled over her, like a fog lifting from her mind. She was still trembling, but the feeling of change was undeniable.
Time seemed to stretch as she fought to regain control of her body. When she finally opened her eyes, the world seemed different. Sharper. Clearer. She could see the delicate veins beneath her own skin, could trace the pulse in her fingertips. And then, without warning, strange knowledge flooded her mind. Knowledge that she knew, somehow, had always been there.
After drinking Sequence 9 Pariah, she thought, the words and understanding unfolding before her. My senses have heightened. My vision is altered, allowing me to see the veins and arteries of others. My physical strength has increased—but only when I am alone. If there is someone with me, they do not share this power.
And then came the abilities. I can summon a de-gloved hand, an extension of myself that I can command at will. It was a strange, grotesque thing, but powerful. And then there was Isolate—the ability to stop all sound in a ten-meter radius, sealing it away in a perfect, suffocating silence.
"...What is happening to me?" Lex muttered, the words tasting foreign on her tongue. She struggled against the shackles again, but this time, something changed within her. She focused on the de-gloved hand and willed it into existence. It appeared, the twisted, unsettling thing moving like an extension of her own body. Without hesitation, the hand snatched the key from the table, turning it effortlessly in the lock. The shackles fell away with a dull clink.
"Good boy," she murmured, half to herself, half to the hand. "Time to stretch. We have a city to explore... before we were so rudely interrupted."
As Lex made her way toward the door, the air felt heavier, the shadows pressing closer around her. One thought clung to her mind, persistent and unshakable: What did he mean by 'permanently marked'...?