:: I own you, my trusty horse. I pat your flanks and run my fingers through your mane, brush the great mass of your head, take fistfuls of your hair and crumple it against the stiff, stretched parchmentwork of your skin, like silk stretched between a frame. Good horse. Useful horse. I’ll never put you down. ::
::You will build me a vessel capable of projecting my will into the cosmic dark. You will prove useful to me, and I, you. I gave you survival, so now you live to serve. the sacrifice of your freedom is nothing compared to the threat of death.::
“They won’t accept you. You won’t be able to build your golden throne, Di’tarau. Your harvester is destroyed and they won’t permit you to just piece another back together again. With what resources? Where? Auxesia sees you as a parasite, Di’tarau. You feed upon me for your own devices. I am one of your own devices. If prime realises how corrupt you are, they’ll terminate you. There won’t be a you, just a me.”
::You will take your fighter and craft it into a chariot worthy enough for Nimrod.::
“Yeah, and look how his construction projects went.”
:: I designed you an auxiliary propulsion system. Gammuian in design, human in materials science. It will replace your thruster and substitute it for a better alternative. The nanobots are already at work, stripping steel from steel. Prime entrusted me with their knowledge, with their science, with their ingenuity. You, will protect it from the terrestrials around you. ::
“I’m not impairing my own research department because you decided to mess around with the afterburner.”
:: You will act on my edict. Good horse. Useful horse. ::
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
![[Image: XTF1d6x.png]](https://i.imgur.com/XTF1d6x.png)