Electrical feedback blasted hither and thither as the green skinned creature took centre stage amidst massive crowds of restless Octids, his gloved hand resting patiently on the waiting microphone as he prepared to address the congregation. Just less than a week had passed since the outcome of Robyn Kobayashi's trial had been announced to the general public, and despite the mild state of uproar that subsequently followed the verdict, the general populace eventually descended into a much more passive mood. The Octagon media had already foretold her guilt, and not many people were surprised to hear that, given the overwhelming evidence against her, she was to be considered a traitor and that women of all species were indeed incompetent and would henceforth be legally treated as such by all residents living in Octid controlled systems.

Resistance had been met, however, by small groups who believed this verdict to be proof that the Octagon laws were being abused by the very people who were in a position to uphold them. It had been pointed out numerous times that the case against Ms. Kobayashi should have been declared invalid immediately following the events which occurred just before the trial's closure. Since no verdict had been officially announced by the Octid High Council or their associates during the trial's duration, to proclaim her sentence several days following the trial in question was in direct violation of court procedure. Not to mention the fact that the Empire had yet to explain why many hundreds of Octids including the Emperor himself were witnessed breaking their own sacred laws by somehow permitting themselves to cry. The Octid Empire had been met by several claims as to their own incompetence directed at them by low ranking diplomats and representatives of other species who had the courage to stand against such blatant tyranny. Following this, the Empire rebutted their claims by sending out wave after wave of Octid Patrol units to track down and "coerce" these unsatisfied individuals so that they might see things from a more objective perspective. For by utilising such cruel and destructive methods, there would no longer be anyone left to suggest that their methods were so destructive and cruel.

Ellis let out a sigh of happiness. He loved it when everything cancelled one another out.

"Free citizens of Octagon!" he raised his hands into the air and ignored the pain that throbbed in his shoulder socket. The beating he'd sustained at the hands of Earl had been the worst he'd ever received... a fact that made Ellis wish he had retained Earl's status as an ally. Brute strength and intense hatred were powerful weapons indeed. "I bring you good news! The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated!"

As silence rolled across the gap he left in his speech, he observed the crowds far beneath the podium as they squatted on the ice down below. These sermons were really the only instances where Ellis got to be amongst his people, and as wretchedly ignorant as they were he still felt that had a sort of simple charm to them. Then again, it might have just been the prolonged applause sessions that lasted thirty minutes before and after his five-minute speeches that he really appreciated. These common-folk really knew how to make some noise. He sneered as he contemplated the possibility of an assassination attempt, considering the open-air feel of the address, and then he quickly discounted it as he remembered he had at least five personal bodyguards waiting on the sidelines just raring to take a bullet for him. They didn't want to, of course. They were just programmed to.

"On a far more tragic note," Ellis continued as the crowd waited for him to deliver the previously promised good news, unaware that he had already done so. "As many of you already know, I was recently forced to dissolve the current High Council in order to make way for a new one made up of members hand-picked by the Emperor himself. With my aid, the Emperor selected a number of trustworthy individuals who would never by any means attempt to betray our great Empire as the latter council did so scandalously. Rest assured, this council will be just as open-minded and beneficent to the common man as our last residing council."

There was a short burst of applause as Ellis exploited their gullibility. Not that he was lying; this new council would indeed be as interested in serving the general public as the last one... i.e., not at all. For Ellis had made sure that the new council consisted of nothing but members of his elite Octid Patrol, who would obey his every command without question. It was as if he now controlled every aspect of the Octid government. He almost began to salivate at such a prospect, and as he savoured the moment he cast his mind back six days as he remembered precisely how he'd set about accomplishing such a fiendish goal...

"What a fool!" Harthem, the seventy thousand year old member of the Octid High Council spat as he marched up the corridor away from the trial chamber that had now been filled with the sounds of bawling Octids. "He could have allowed us to preside over this case; but no, he needed to have all the glory of torturing that wench of a female. And now look what he's brought down upon us!"

"Questions, questions, and more questions!" replied Xelldrab, his associate member of the High Council. He was referring to the long and arduous interview that had just been forced upon them by both Gorg and Motto news teams who had been allowed to show live coverage of the trial as per their treaty with the Octid Empire. "To think that we, the representatives of the great and mighty empire of the Octids, would be asked to actually explain the conduct of our people. I didn't become a member of the High Council so that I would have to be called upon to speak for a bunch of underlings. Why didn't they just save their questions for that rabble downstairs? They're the ones who are at fault here. Imagine crying during an intergalactic broadcast...!"

"Inexcusable!" Harthem concurred.

"Aww, c'mon guys," Odinul, the lesser member of the trio, sniffed. He had been wiping tears from his triangular eyes all the way through the interview, and this had made it extraordinarily difficult for Harthem and Xelldrab to try and explain the erratic behaviour being witnessed in the Octid people. "You guys cried just as much as everyone else when Emperor P'twaaang started blubbering."

"Nonsense!" said Harthem, angrily. "We merely had something in our eyes, that was all. The first rule of representing your home world is good presentation."

"That sorta went out the window when you both started wetting your..."

"Enough!" Harthem snarled, cutting Odinul off in mid-sentence. "I was already tired of such false accusations by the time I walked through that door, now I suggest the three of us discuss how we're going to go about repairing this significant blow to our status."

"You mean the blow caused by the fact that we all cried, right?" Odinul asked. "But you just said that you guys didn't cry. So since there was no blow, then there's no need to repair the damage caused by it."

"You're beginning to sound more and more like a traitor every day..." Xelldrab suggested, as the three robed Octids came to a standstill in the middle of the corridor just outside the meeting hall that they typically inhabited.

"I agree," said Harthem, stepping closer to the nervous figure of Odinul and inspecting his head-spike with great interest. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were a female in disguise."

"M-me?" Odinul chuckled, his voice rising and falling like a child suffering through puberty. "A female traitor? You guys know me better than that. I'm too stupid to keep a secret that big!"

"No argument here," Xelldrab commented. "Nevertheless, it would be a much more efficient way to explain the events that have just transpired."

"What would be?" Odinul gulped.

"It's quite simple," Xelladrab said, turning to Harthem with a smirk. "We claim that Odinul here was working for a rebel faction, and that he was the one behind the anomalous bout of sadness we just experienced. We use a lot of technobabble to confuse the press, and there you have it."

"But then everyone would think that I'm...!" began Odinul.

"Oh, you wouldn't have to worry," Xelldrab affirmed, patting an uneasy Odinul on the back. "You'd be executed long before anyone would have time to form an opinion on your actions."

"That's... comforting," squeaked Odinul.

"I have a better plan," Harthem said, practically sliding the noose from around Odinul's chubby neck. "We place the blame on the one man who truly deserves it... the one man who I've wanted to nail for the past five hundred years. At long last, Ellis will pay for his self-indulgence. That overachieving advisor will finally get what's coming to him."

"You really think we can pin the blame on Ellis?" Xelldrab asked, as Odinul continued to sweat beside them.

"Shouldn't be too difficult," Harthem explained. "After all, he was in charge of the trial's proceedings by the Emperor's permission. The blame rests squarely on his shoulders, I don't see why we'd have any trouble getting the public to believe that it's his fault that it all went to heck in a hand-basket."

"Hand-basket?" asked Odinul, whose wealth had always been far too plentiful to allow himself to be distracted by such things. This may also have explained his lack of an in-depth education. "What's that?"

"I'm not sure. It's a phrase the people seem to use whenever we raise the taxes. I think it's rather catchy," Harthem said. "Anyway, the sheer fact that Ellis was the only one in the room with a dry eye should be enough to finger him as the suspect in this case. Then we just supply the authorities with some makeshift evidence, and presto! He's as good as executed."

"I like this plan!" Odinul clapped eagerly, mainly because it didn't involve any harm coming to him or his image. "I can get to work forging some documents if you like."

"Actually, I thought I might do the forging this time..." said Harthem.

"Pleeeeease!" Odinul clasped his hands together and begged his superior. "You know how much I love forging stuff!"

"Okay, okay," Harthem begrudgingly agreed. He lifted up a hand to release the lock on the meeting hall doors. "I suppose that does free me up to set the date of the execution. That way I can make sure it doesn't happen on a day when the three of us are all tied up. We wouldn't want to miss such an important event, now would we?"

The doors snapped open as Harthem felt his way along the pressure-sensitive panel and inputted the correct code sequence. They found themselves confronted by the usual darkened backdrop contained within the symmetrically shaped room, with the walls at perfect angles that turned to form a distinct octagon-shaped pattern. At the very centre of the room, beneath a singular fixture that radiated light down in a translucent cone of energy, there sat the standard council table around which they would often sit and discuss matters of money (usually their own) and foreign policy (the number of alien species under their control had more than doubled in the past eight months). The table was also cut into a distinctly octagonal design in order to emphasise the fact that they were united with a common goal... to serve Octagon. This illusion was maintained as long as you didn't check for any bits of pre-chewed gum wedged underneath the rim of the table.

Today, however, the inanimate furniture wasn't the only thing awaiting them inside the meeting hall. Three other figures had placed themselves where Harthem, Xelldrab, and Odinul would usually sit. Before they could quote the three bears and demand to know who'd been sitting at their table, their questions were answered all at once as the central figure leaned forward into the light and allowed his handsome features to become apparent.

"You needn't worry about that, Harthem," Ellis said, his eyes glazing over as he spoke. "I think you'll find it's awfully difficult to miss your own execution."

Although it was dark, the three members of the council were able to make out the two elite Octid soldiers on either side of Ellis, their visors fixed intently on the newcomers. Apparently Ellis had overheard their quiet plotting, and before they could turn around and call for security the doors immediately slammed shut behind them and then locked automatically.

"I wouldn't think about leaving if I were you, gentlemen," Ellis gloated from his vantage point behind the council table. "The moment you turn your backs on me, my friends here will open fire. And it'll be much more difficult for me to frame you with a number of laser shots aimed squarely in your backs."

"Ellis, you snake!" Xelldrab yelled, pointing a finger at their treacherous captor. "What is the meaning of this?! You're trying to set us up, is that it? This is treason! I won't stand for it!"

"You won't have to," Ellis smiled, before nodding to the Octid soldier on his right. Instantaneously, a red beam shot from the soldier's weapon and struck Xelldrab in the chest, causing him to fall back and collapse in a heap beside the other council members. "Lying down is perfectly acceptable."

"Why are you doing this?" Harthem asked, breathlessly. He looked from his fallen friend and back to the merciless grand advisor, noting momentarily the bruises that dotted Ellis' face like a map of corruption leading all the way up to the tip of his head-spike. Harthem gingerly stepped over Xelldrab's motionless corpse and stood before Ellis with his hands held up in the air. "We've always been partners, Ellis. We've helped you on numerous occasions. Why now do you turn on us?"

"Better to turn on those you trust instead of waiting for them to turn on you," Ellis explained, sardonically. "Or were you not just deciding my fate outside that door? Setting a date for my execution, eh? You'll find that hard with a steaming hole in your chest."

"But you said that would make it difficult to frame us!" Harthem pointed out, desperately.

"Did I?" said Ellis, a slight twinge of consideration entering his voice. "No, if I remember rightly, I said that if I had you shot in the back then it'd make that difficult. A shot to the front, however, is an entirely different matter. That way I can always say I was acting in self-defence. Which, in a way, I am."

"Don't do this, Ellis," Harthem said, inching closer to the table. It was time to barter for his survival, a trick he'd learned in his youth at the Octid military academy. "We can be very valuable to you. We can support all your decisions. Without our backing, how are you going to convince the public that the Emperor is still mentally stable?"

"I think," whispered Ellis as Harthem placed his hands beneath the table's edge and began searching for the laser rifle he'd put there in case of such an event. Unbeknownst to him, however, Ellis had the rifle concealed beneath his cloak and was already stroking his gloved finger along the thin metal trigger as his sentence came to a close. "That these are not the concerns... of a dead man."

The next few seconds seemed to stretch themselves out so long that Odinul thought the very fabric of time was going to snap with the tension. As Harthem's fingers failed to locate the weapon he had in mind, it dawned on him that Ellis must have taken it. Moments later, his doubts were confirmed by his discovery of a single flap of loose sticky tape that was still stuck to the underside of the table; the rifle itself was missing. As Ellis pulled back his cloak to reveal the weapon, Harthem was already in the process of lifting the table and flinging it up and over so that it would flip onto one side and block the view of the armed men. As it began to tip over, Harthem dove towards the door and made a scramble for the lock. Behind him, the table shattered into wooden fragments as laser fire rocked the room and Ellis repeatedly fired through the obstacle and towards the fleeing council member. Harthem's hand ran its way down the panel and was about to enter the confirmation code, when suddenly the panel exploded in a shower of sparks. The Octid soldiers had taken out the only escape route with a single well-placed blast.

"Curse you," Harthem swallowed, his body suddenly hunching forward as he realised a piece of smouldering wood from the table had lodged itself in his leg. He limped his way around so that he could face Ellis, who was now bearing down on him with Harthem's own laser rifle. There was a deathly silence between them as they stared into one another's sullen sockets, and for a brief moment evil acknowledged evil. "I guess you win this one."

"You should have learned by now, Harthem," Ellis said, positioning the rifle between himself and his fallen prey. "I win them all."

A pull of the trigger later, Harthem was on the floor beside Xelldrab. Ellis paused, and then turned his attention to the last remaining council member who was busy slamming his fist against the door frantically.

"Help!" Odinul cried. "Please somebody, help!"

"Turn around," Ellis commanded, placing the rifle in the small of Odinul's back. Odinul was quick to oblige, tears once against streaming down his face for the second time in one night. For this, Odinul felt sure that Ellis would sentence him to an immediate death. But it was not to be. "What... soft skin you have, Odinul."

"...Huh?" Odinul grunted.

"Do you use a natural moisturiser?" Ellis asked, placing an oily hand against Odinul's face and stroking his cheek. "And those eyes... so feminine. You're remarkably pretty for a man."

"Lord Ellis, please..." Odinul winced, hanging his head down low and rubbing his eyes. He turned his head up once more and gave Ellis a more determined look. "If you're going to kill me, at least allow me to keep my dignity."

"How truly stoic," Ellis murmured. "You know, you almost remind me of..."

A glimmer burned somewhere deep in Ellis' eyes as an idea formed inside the catacombs of his mind.

"Yes... You will be perfect," he cackled.

Ellis returned to the present as he felt one of his bodyguards nudging him in the ribs. The crowd had been waiting for him to continue with his speech, and already the people had begun to murmur amongst themselves as he'd drifted off into a state of sinister reflection. If there was one thing Ellis couldn't stand, it was intolerance; if they didn't have the patience to wait for him to continue, then maybe they didn't deserve to hear him speak. Psychotic thoughts ravaged Ellis' mind as he suddenly grew quite angry, but eventually he cooled down as he remembered what the next item on the agenda was.

"And now," Ellis said, drawing the audience's attention back towards him. To the back of the elevated podium, an immense video screen that soared almost as high as the nearest skyscraper sprang to life while faded yellow numbers began to count down to zero in the top left corner of the display. "I will present to you the footage we broadcasted live across the galaxy just over thirty hours ago. This footage will serve to remind all of you that justice will always prevail... and that traitors will not evade our righteous clutches due to some petty legal discrepancies. The execution of Robyn Kobayashi was a matter that God himself requested of our people, and so regrettably I was forced to take the law into my own hands. I say this now as a true follower of the Octid Empire; we cannot let rules and regulations stand in our way of stamping out those who are inferior! Robyn Kobayashi's blood shall be the ink that signs the dotted line beneath the death contract of every treacherous female in the universe. Death to them all!!!"

As Ellis continued to speak, a blurred image of several Octids standing in a semi-circle was now being shown on the screen above him. Ellis' dark and vibrant shadow was cast on each frame of the film as the lights positioned beneath the podium exaggerated his slender physique. Soon the Octids upon the screen were joined by another pair who appeared to be guards, and behind them they dragged a bound and gagged female. Her tender face glistened with sweat, and her eyes were wide and filled with tears. She had neither the physical strength nor the will to struggle, and perceptive eyes may have been able to tell that she had been sedated by some form of drug. Her capulona was shaped like a teardrop and the sweat oozed out from underneath it like sap from an old oak tree, making it look as though it wasn't properly attached to her spike. The guards threw her to the ground, and before she could attempt to get to her feet one of the other Octids had raised a sharpened axe. The blade cut into the air and fell down across her neck. The lack of censorship caused the crowd to wince all at once, but Ellis watched with delight as his plan replayed before his eyes without a single hitch.

He had been right; Odinul made a perfect replacement for Robyn.

"My friends," said Ellis, turning back to the microphone and wiping the sweat from his head-spike. He realised he was breathing far too heavily into the microphone, and his huffing and puffing had momentarily managed to drown out his words. After taking a second to relax, he carried on. "I urge you to refuse to allow the weakness of the female gender to blind you to the potential threat they pose to our society. If a female is not kept in line, they can become dangerous. Their inferiority is infectious; we can all be contaminated by their feminine wiles. It is no secret that they have amassed great numbers in the form of a terrorist group, striking without compassion at our most essential structures and representatives. This selfish group must be stopped at all costs, so I urge each and every one of you to report to your local administration officer with any information you might possibly know about this so-called 'rebellion'. We only wish to spare innocent lives, while they would undoubtedly prefer it if you were all dead. With your co-operation, we can have these rogues snuffed out within the next month. Remember, first and foremost... to serve Octagon!"

A mighty round of applause followed his final words as he spread his arms wide and basked in their support. He closed his eyes and took it all in; the cheers, the chants, the wild adulation, it was almost enough to make him consider raising his speechwriter's paycheque. Down below, each individual intergalactic interpreter was busy translating his words into their native tongue in order for a transcription to be delivered to their respective news stations. But one sound would need no conversion; the crowd noise was deafening and like a wave sweeping across the shores of some unkempt island, the tumultuous support seemed to clear away all the troubles of the past seven days.

But far beneath the layers of seemingly unanimous approval, a sound like the beating of a drum began to echo through the hullabaloo. It was like the sound of a single instrument amidst a vast orchestra playing inharmoniously against the tide. At first Ellis thought it was simply his own heart beating, but then he recognised it. It seemed to resonate from his past, and he could hear it quite clearly now...

Footsteps approached Ellis as he lurked in the pale phosphorescence that emanated from the billboard-sized network of computer screens opposite him. The lab was distinctly more claustrophobic than he remembered it being in his past visits, though it had always been rather small, as anything larger would have made a more obvious dent in the Empire's building investment funds. A personal lab where scientists could study under his instructions without having to worry about the media snooping around and finding faults in his personal experiments was costly enough, not to mention having to bribe the workers to keep their mouths shut. But then if he ever needed a few extra dollars, he could always take them out of the Emperor's personal treasury.

There were four main sections of the underground lab. The first was intended solely for information and data storage, and this was where Ellis was currently waiting. Tightly clustered desks and blinking monitors were strewn about the place in a haphazard fashion, for Ellis didn't want to have to bribe a measly janitor to clean up such delicate materials. If there was one type of person he loathed more than women, it was janitors.

The footsteps belonged to Orville Slyme, the head scientist for Ellis' personal research lab. Even at such ungodly hours, Orville could be found puttering about the lab adding together strings of equations and testing formulae in an effort to better serve his master. He was old and senile, though Ellis knew a genius when he saw one. Sadly, none of them were willing to do the work Ellis wanted from them, so he settled for a ruthless monster instead. The results were always satisfactory, so Ellis never regretted the decision to appoint Orville as his personal head scientist. He did, however, regret that fact that he was forced to install completely out-of-date equipment just so that Orville could get his ancient mind around the complex workings of the systems.

"Ahhh," Orville crooned in Ellis' direction as he rounded a desk in the maze of computer terminals. "Lord Ellis. I'm glad you could make it, hmm?"

"You said the subject was ready," Ellis replied, looking through one of the fogged-up windows into the secondary area of the lab. Usually there would be about a dozen scientists working feverishly in this testing area, but for now it was as empty as the space between Orville's ears. Bits of important equipment were placed (often upside-down or otherwise incorrectly) in various less-than-safe looking containers, and beakers filled with liquid bubbled over and dribbled their way down to the floor from high up on the topmost shelf. It was almost symbolic of Orville's control over his own bodily functions. Thankfully, despite their lack of cleanliness, the science team was excellent at getting an adequate result from their tests. Often it wasn't the result Ellis had requested, but he was willing to take what he could get. "I hope you didn't mean it's ready for me to take it and throw it in the trash outside."

"No, no," said Orville, hurriedly. He motioned for the grand advisor to follow him, and Ellis immediately complied. "I think you'll be very happy with the results of our tests, hmm? The subject reacted according to your wishes in every instance. She's got a great deal of stamina, hmm?"

"Yes," said Ellis, not wishing to engage in detailed conversation with the old man. He'd learned many times that once you begin to discuss something that's even remotely extraneous to the subject at hand, Orville was liable to go off on some old man's tirade about the glory days of the Empire. "Will she be able to speak?"

"You'll find she's quite conscious of her surroundings, hmm?" Orville continued. "She feels pain just as you and I do. Well, more than I do, actually. My right leg's been partially numb ever since that photon grenade went off in my bunker during the Hexagon Wars. Did I ever tell you about...?"

"Is she in there?" Ellis asked, indicating the third section just up ahead.

"Hmm? Hmm?" Orville mumbled, losing his train of thought. "Yes, yes, in there. Yes, hmm?"

"Which unit did you store her in?" Ellis asked, taking a few steps towards the door and preparing to make his way through into the cold interior of the torture chamber. He'd been in here frequently, and he never grew tired of the sights and smells. Just preparing to climb inside was like a ritual unto itself.

"Third one down on your right," Orville responded, cheerfully. "Just past the girl in the knuckle-grinder, you can't miss it, hmm?"

"Thank you, Dr. Slyme," said Ellis, his voice faint as he stroked the door's metal texture. "You may return home for the night. I wish to be alone with the subject."

"Hmm?" Orville asked. "Hmm?"

"Go home, doctor," Ellis scowled, turning his head abruptly to lock eyes with the old man. "That's an order."

Dr. Slyme looked a tad dumbfounded and lost for words, but then he let out a series of muffled grunts and then receded towards the exit. At long last, Ellis was alone with his thoughts. He held his breath and proceeded to type his security code into the panel beside the door. With a sound like bones cracking, the door slid open and a gust of frosty wind seemed to greet Ellis as he bore witness to the wonders of his own personal torture chamber.

Of course, the other scientists didn't consider it a torture chamber. For them it was merely a place to experiment on organic material, to examine the Octid anatomy in serious detail and test their most bizarre reflexes and reactions under the severest conditions. But it was all the same to Ellis. For about twenty square metres, there loomed before him around twenty-five separate containment units each filled with their own female test subject. Ellis moved forward and listened intently, like a hunter entering the jungle while paying close attention to the various animal noises coming from all around. There was the distant humming of the containment units as they buzzed with electricity, and there was that oh so sonorous sound of prolonged agony. To Ellis, it was sweet music that could make him drift into an everlasting sleep where dreams of death would soothe his maniacal soul. From all around him it came, stifled by the sealed doors of the containment units but still quite audible; tinny screams as if from drowning women, and him gazing down at them from the surface of the lake as they continued to be pulled under. He felt his heart skip a beat as he caught sight of one of them gazing out at him through one of the glass apertures placed at head-height on the sides of the units; she was beautiful, submersed in a light pink liquid that had caused her body to shrivel into grotesque proportions. Her eyes were puffy and deprived of oxygen, and they looked like they were ready to be plucked from their sockets. Her naked body drifted from side to side in a hypnotic dance, and Ellis had to force himself to tear his eyes away so that he might return to indulging his original motives for being here.

"Where are you, little girl?" he asked, scouring the units and attempting to pinpoint the precise one he had been directed to by Dr. Slyme. Finally, he found it. It was indeed placed between a knuckle-grinder and an empty unit. The writing on the grey exterior of the unit in question was rather faded, but Ellis didn't need to read it to know what method of torture was being used for this special case. Electrocution was one of Ellis' personal favourites, for it allowed the observer to witness every ounce of pain being exuded from the subject's body without leaving any noticeable marks or scars on their flesh. It was also easier to conceal from the subject precisely when they would be experiencing pain, for there was no physical interaction between the torturer and the subject. This made for some lovely interrogation sessions, though they'd often be short since the subject's will was likely to drop in next to no time. "Open wide, my pretty."

With a flick of a switch, Ellis caused the unit's frontal section to split apart from the rest and slide upwards so that the inside of the machine was exposed. Ellis had always felt that these units were unnecessary, but the scientists had insisted he install them because they found it easier to work if they didn't have to look at their test cases. Ellis had no such difficulty, and he was able to gaze upon the girl's fragile body with the delight one would expect from someone who was watching eggs hatch within a bird's nest. She was wired up to the torture device from her head down to her toes, and her naked body seemed covered with thick, wiry serpents. Only her head and chest remained totally exposed, along with a section of skin just beneath her left breast that had been brutally scarred by laser fire just recently.

"Wake up, Sean," Ellis hissed as he leaned forward and peeled back her eyelids. Her large pupils quickly adjusted to the light and she croaked in acknowledgement of her situation. She found herself unable to move, for she was strapped down to the machine; Ellis relished her impotence. "Hello, Sean. Remember me?"

"Y... you..." Sean coughed, her left eye twitching as she spoke. "Son of... a..."

"Come now, Sean," Ellis chuckled, reaching out and idly tickling her capulona. "Is that any way to treat an old friend? You DID serve under me for a time. Wouldn't you like to again?"

"I never served..." she could barely talk, but her hatred was clear. "I only... did it for... the rebellion."

"Yes, yes, but how about we just let bygones be bygones," said Ellis, condescendingly. He placed his hands on either side of her face and squeezed her cheeks in his cold grip. "How about you do a little undercover work for me? If you know what I mean..."

"What are..." Sean began, but Ellis forced her lips shut by clamping his fingers across her mouth and pressing down. He then fell forward and allowed his head-spike to press close to hers, their eyes now less than two inches apart, hers filled with anger and his with lust.

"Admit it, you always wanted it this way," Ellis laughed as he forced himself upon her. He dropped his hands down so that he could touch her bare skin, but the moment he released his grasp she snapped her head forward and bit him square on the nose causing him to recoil in pain. "GAAAHHH! You rotten little..."

"Don't touch me, Ellis!" Sean screamed, somehow finding the strength to defy his wishes. "You can't treat me this way! And soon, you won't be able to treat anyone this way! I made sure of that when I helped my friends escape... Soon it'll be common knowledge, and everyone will be rising up against you."

"You don't know anything," Ellis growled, patting the wound on his nose delicately and hoping it wasn't going to leave a mark. "When my guards rescued me from you, they told me of how they'd managed to track down Rob and Earl and that they'd swiftly dispatched of them in next to no time. You see; all you did was delay the inevitable."

"You're lying..." Sean accused, her eye twitching at an even greater rate. "All you ever tell people is lies. You're full of garbage, Ellis. People aren't going to put up with it much longer. I'm living proof."

"Barely," Ellis pointed out, and he then pressed a button on the outside of the unit. Sean hardly had time to cry out before she was rocked by bursts of electricity that shot up and down her body; the pain was so great that she felt as though her chest was going to explode. "All those who oppose me will end up just like you. Broken and defeated. Now, tell me the location of your secret base."

Sean tried to speak but her jaw was locked tightly shut, and all that came from within her was a series of mangled screams. Ellis watched her jerking back and forth for a time and then pressed the button once more, causing her body to fall limp. He licked his lips as she struggled to get her breath back.

"Listen to me!" Ellis snarled, rushing forward and placing his hand across her throat. "If you tell me, I'll allow you to live on as my slave. You wouldn't die like the others; instead you'd be free to live as my own personal servant. You'd have a life of luxury, and all you have to do is tell me where they're hiding. You wouldn't be killing them; you'd just be defending yourself. They'd expect nothing less of you."

Sean was still recovering from the shocks she'd been receiving at the hands of her captor. For a moment she began to say things in a dreamlike state with a faraway voice, as if reliving past memories of when she was in a much safer environment.

"Let me... rescue her... Miss Ja... Jane..." Sean mumbled, sadly. "I want to be... her friend... please let me... help..."

"You ignorant woman!!!" shouted Ellis, confused by all that she was saying. "Don't you realise that sooner or later I'll find them anyway and then you'll all be dead?! Is that what you want, a pointless death with your comrades?! Because I'll gladly give it to you!"

"And you call me... ignorant..." Sean said between bouts of weakened laughter. "If you kill me, another five will rise up against you. With every one of us you kill, you serve only to make our movement stronger. For every Rob you put on trial, you introduce our way of thinking to another frightened individual who was previously too scared to speak up. You can't win, Ellis."

"I've already won!" Ellis shouted, vehemently. "I'm just surrounded by a bunch of sore losers, is all! Sooner or later you'll come to accept that the rules may not be fair, but they're the only rules. And you will live by them, or die..."

Sean's laughter rose as he continued to speak in a passionate voice, causing his inflection to deteriorate as it trailed off into less than a murmur. His muscles pulled tightly beneath his flesh as he gnashed his teeth and clenched his fists in a furious rage, and his brain began to split into various different thought pools. Part of him wanted to kill her, the other wanted to ravage her; but every pore on his body exuded an intense desire to silence her incessantly defiant laughter. He reached both hands around her neck and began to squeeze, feeling her cold, almost corpse-like body as he attempted to steal all the air from her lungs. But the smile on her face never waned.

"Uh... uh..." she coughed as he clenched tighter and tighter around her neck, her dried up tongue wobbling to and fro behind her teeth as the dead pupils in her milky eyes rolled back into her oversized skull.

"I'll show you," he ranted obscurely. "I'll show you what real power is, you pathetic creature...!"

He remembered the sound of his heartbeat as it had been when her life was literally in his hands. He drew his fingers along the steel surface of the podium as the crowd noise abated; he looked deep into his blurred reflection within the metal, loose and without any true definition. Nearby, the waves of the ocean roared and he could already make out the tiny dots that signified another wave of transport shuttles flying overhead. He saw them long before the noise from their engines reached the location of the sermon, rocketing by like so many memories he hadn't the time to hold on to. And there was something lying underneath the noise like a message waiting to be read aloud, one moment here and then forever forgotten. All these sounds were trying to tell him something.

"Ugly..."

Lurching back, he caught a glimpse of a series of white boards being held aloft by a few spectators. It wasn't uncommon for listeners to bring supportive signs to one of his speeches; in fact he often tried to encourage it. But these were by no means supportive; in fact, these were the first signs of their type that he had seen in all his years as grand advisor to the Emperor of Octagon. These signs read from left to right in a formation that could only have been resolved beforehand by a good number of the spectators. A long line of Octids held the collection of boards together, so that the bloody red lettering painted on their pristine finishes could spell out a number of crudely spelled words.

"Wee Want Ellis Owt! Octid Women Shud B Free!"

It was positioned right at the very back, like a banner stationed there for all who were now leaving to see. Already it was causing quite a stir, and as the Octid soldiers stormed through the crowds and forced them to disperse, Ellis saw just who happened to be holding the signs in the air.

A number of children, both male and female, were sitting atop their parents' shoulders as they braced themselves for the oppressive force of the incoming soldiers. Both young and old members of the lower class standing side by side, unafraid to feel the inevitable pain that would be inflicted on them by Ellis' men.

"Sir," one of the nearby guards walked over to Ellis and saluted. "Lord Ellis, shall we have the film crews shut their cameras off while we proceed with the routine beating?"

"Ugly..." Ellis said, with his eyes focused on a point somewhere between himself and the horizon.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"That's what she was trying to say," he continued. "When I had her throat in my hands. I could see her lips moving... but there was no sound."

Ellis tore himself away from Sean and fell in a heap on the floor just outside the containment unit's open doorway. Despite her body's reaction to his attempted asphyxiation, her soul had remained as strong as ever. He looked at his hands and curled up his fingertips as he tried to think of some way to strip away her defences and tear a hole inside her so large that he could climb inside and look around. Then he realised he was crying.

"What..." he gasped, the teardrops landing on his gloves and waiting in tiny puddles for his acknowledgement. "But I... can't be..."

"You're starting to feel it, aren't you?" Sean wheezed, her voice a mere whisper due to the pressure she'd been suffering through. "You lost the first battle of your life, and from here on end all you can see is a downhill road. For the first time in your measly existence, you're seeing things through the eyes of those you kill. You lost you hold on Rob, you lost the trust and support of your people, and try as you might you can't hurt me..."

"Shut up!!!" Ellis wailed, throwing his head back whilst trying to stifle the pain. "I am the most powerful being in the world! I decide who lives and who dies! Nobody else is in such a position! Nobody can hope to be!"

"Because nobody else wants to be..." said Sean, turning her head to one side and taking comfort in her body's numbness. "You might exude power, but truth be told you're the weakest person I've ever known. Open your eyes. The more you try to hurt me, the stronger I become. On the outside my people are suffering, but inside we grow the strength to topple your cruel dictatorship. Whereas you pamper yourself and give off an air of confidence, but deep down inside..."

"I don't care!" he snapped. "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Sean sighed.

"I can hurt you," Ellis nodded to himself. He placed both hands on either side of his body and picked himself up. He wiped the tears from the end of his nose and scowled across at her. "I can cause you tremendous suffering. I can break your bones, tear off your skin inch by inch, and gouge red-hot needles into your eyeballs. I can do all this to you, and yet you continue to behave as if you have the upper hand."

"What I have doesn't matter," she replied. "The more you focus your attentions on hurting an individual, the more people are going to rise up against you while your back is turned. Maybe if you weren't so stupid..."

"I WANT TO KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!!!!" Ellis screamed, his voice echoing throughout the lab as he drove his face into hers. His previous desires to take advantage of her were gone, and his head-spike remained lax as he burned a hole deep into her eyes.

"There's nothing you could do that would make me tell you!" she spat.

Ellis let out a groan that seemed to last an eternity as he threw up his arms and stomped away from the unit and hunched over in the centre of the room. Victory was so near, it was within his grasp; yet a single stubborn female was managing to stand between him and his greatest desire. He let out an incoherent growl and stumbled over to the unit opposite hers and pounded on the door. Inside he could just make out the body of another female, her skin pale and her eyes swollen up to the size of saucers. There didn't seem to be any torture instruments inside with her, and she stared back at Ellis quite contently. One thing puzzled him; there was no fear in her eyes, just traces of thin veins that dotted their way around her pupils like sickly decorations. Then she lifted up a hand, and stroked the side of her neck in an imploring fashion.

And then, he smiled back.

"What if I were to tell you," Ellis smirked, turning back to face Sean who had now grown tired of waiting for him to continue his interrogation and had proceeded to count the cracks in the ceiling. "That I could give your people freedom? That I could make you happy, and allow you to be with your friends again?"

"I'd call you a lousy liar," Sean scoffed.

"What if it wasn't a lie?" he persisted.

"I still wouldn't believe you," she said, warily. "You have to learn that if you tell people nothing but lies, eventually they'll just stop trusting everything you say."

"Oh, but you should trust me," Ellis said, his voice oddly calm and soothing. He walked over to where she was lying and gently touched the side of her face. "Did you know you're a very beautiful woman?"

"Quit toying with me!" said Sean. "I'll never find it in my heart to trust you!"

"Sean," he said, letting his eyes fall to the ground. "If you won't give me a chance, I don't think anybody will. Don't you think the right thing to do would be to encourage what small kindness is left within me?"

Ellis sighed and wiped a tear from his eye, and it fell from the side of his face and glanced across hers in a shower of luminescence as fragments of light from the containment unit's interior bounced from droplet to droplet in a chain of incandescence. It was a remarkable moment, and for a fraction of a second... Sean believed what he was saying.

"Ellis?" she asked. "Would you really change?"

"I would do my best," he swore.

As the guards began to circle the cluster of frightened protestors, the crowd began to buzz in a panic. Half of them covered their eyes, while the others tried to make a run for it. All the while, cameras rolled and photographs were snapped up as the media prepared to turn the aftermath of Ellis' sermon into a far more significant event than the sermon itself. Already Ellis could see newspaper headlines spinning in his head, about the cruelty of Octagon and how the people's faith in their Empire was crumbling. He remembered his promise to Sean, and how for a moment it seemed to warm her heart and caused her to let her guard down so that he could see directly into her soul. And almost without thinking, he grabbed the microphone and spoke.

"Guards! Drop your weapons and leave those citizens alone!" he yelled.

The guards were baffled, but immediately yielded to his demands. The crowd began to stir once more as all eyes turned back to Ellis in astonishment; they couldn't believe he'd just spared the lives of a group of supposed traitors. But perhaps the most confused ones of all were the protestors themselves, who now opened their eyes and wondered why they hadn't felt any pain yet. The news teams span around and began filming Ellis as he made a few additions to his speech.

"Let it not be said that I am without compassion," Ellis went on. "Those of you who choose to disagree with my methods are free to do so. But please, next time, I would prefer it if you made your signs a little more legible."

A chuckle broke out amongst the crowd, and soon everyone was laughing politely at Ellis' small attempt at humour. This addendum had caused a good percentage of the crowd to once again warm up to Ellis, and he saw the results in their eyes as they looked at him not with fear but with appreciation of his slight act of kindness. Even the protestors began to slowly lower their signs, though a few stayed quite stalwart as they remained in place whilst the many hundreds of Octids began to slowly pour out from the area.

And as Ellis watched them go, he was reminded of his last moments with Sean after he had made his seemingly heartfelt pledge.

"Well, I STILL wouldn't believe you!" Sean glowered as Ellis smiled down at her. "The moment I let my guard down, you'd be all over me. You just want to creep your way into my head and play around with my trust; well, it isn't going to happen! I'll fight you with my will to the very end! You disgust me, Ellis! I'll never give in to you!"

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Ellis sighed, his brow creasing as he turned to one side and looked as downtrodden as he could. "I was really hoping you'd give me a chance."

He reached inside his cloak and felt around for a few seconds before bringing out a sleek syringe. The liquid inside was a dark green colour, and the needle glistened with a glint almost as deadly as the one residing in Ellis' eyes. He cheerfully squirted a drop or two of the liquid out onto the floor to remove any air bubbles, and then he reached over and grabbed Sean by the side of the face. She squirmed in an attempt to shake him off, but her physical strength was all but gone. It took no effort whatsoever for Ellis to plunge the needle directly into her neck, pumping the fluid into her blood as he watched her pupils drain away into dots. He grinned and gave her a kiss on the lips, before snatching the needle away and placing it back in his pocket. Her expression still hadn't changed since he'd first slipped it through her flesh.

"Do you feel strong now, my sweet?" he asked, his sanity bubbling over as he spoke aloud despite the fact that she could no longer hear his words. "It feels like a dream, doesn't it? You don't know where you are, or who you are... Quite a potent drug, really. I just had it developed... it's for keeping slave girls in line. I'm sure it will be a hot commodity once it goes on the market. From now on, you'll agree to everything I say, as long as I keep you under the influence."

"Uhhnh..." she moaned, her face showing faint flickers of animation as she slowly regained her senses.

"Unfortunately, I can't make you tell me anything just yet," Ellis told her. "It has a startling affect on your neural pathways, makes you forget all sorts of things. But I'm sure once you're used to obeying my every word, you won't even need the drug anymore."

"Uhh... mmm?" Sean stirred as she attempted to ascertain who was speaking to her. "M... master?"

"And then, my dear," he grinned, leaning back and pressing a few buttons on the outside of the unit. As the unit closed and the sounds of her screams pounded against the metal walls and bounced back to greet her, Ellis scratched his nose and allowed himself a slight skip and a hop as he set off down the hall towards the exit. "You will tell me everything I need to know."

The doors slammed shut behind him.

"Tell the guards to wait for everyone to leave," Ellis whispered to the guard nearest to him. "And then have them bring those despicable traitors to me. I shall have to teach them a lesson."

"You're gonna teach 'em how to spell then, sir?" the guard grunted.

"I really must find a way to make you idiots smarter," said Ellis, watching the crowd disintegrate into patches of supporters. He gave a confident wave to the Octids who had stayed behind to show their gratitude, making sure that he was at a good angle for the reporters to capture his prominence while overhead more transport shuttles zoomed across the sea.

The tide was going out, but it was preparing to come in.