[center]-=-=The Core=-=-[/center]

The nebulous form of Panoptos wafted over toward the newest speaker, a construct just as machine as he was man.  Moreso than any of his progeny, the emerald-eyed Watcher nursed an interest in the human practice of prosthesis.  What began as a restorative act to replace limbs lost in tragic happenstance became a way to surpass human limitations, and to bind to human beings themselves their ingenious creations, as had the Makers of old.  [color=50C878]”So be it.  Hold still, halfman.”[/color]  He traced the emblem of the Charred Council onto the cyborg’s forehead as he uttered his question.  [color=50C878]”At least you have a spot of humility, eh?”[/color]  Cackling softly, he drew back and then replied.  [color=50C878]”There is strength in unity, and in a cause to believe in.  That enough for you?”[/color]  The nine eyes of Panoptos aligned in a circle, with which he scanned the rest of the group, who so far remained silent but for the willful mutterings of Kosara.

She, in fact, piped up next.  There was always something to be said for exuberance—and that something tended to never please the exuberant.  [color=50C878]”Patience, little one.  Being one of us means you oppose who we tell you to oppose.  Get feisty and you might find yourself on a leash.”[/color]  Quickly he branded her head, teasing her snow-white hair out of the way with a long, gnarled claw.  Panoptos flitted to Midori next.  Her manner and mode of speech were pathetic for a human, let alone a demon, but the Watcher knew from experience that sometimes big loads came in small packages.  In response to her acceptance he wordlessly floated over and inscribed the ignited insignia upon her head, ending with a final extra tap in the center.  

While this happened, Silas the Sage pronounced his allegiance, and after finishing with Midori Panoptos flew over at a leisurely pace to officiate it.  He completed the brand, and only afterward told him, [color=50C878]”Very noble of you, enlightened one.  I hope you keep your word no matter what we tell you to kill.  Heheheh…”[/color]

The instant Gene opened his mouth, Panoptos began to move.  His brazen and flagrant denial echoed across the burning wastes even as the Watcher’s shadowy form leaned on his shoulder.   Rather than saying anything or attacking, however, he seemed to relax, as if anticipating a show.  On queue the accusatory head thundered,

[h3]”You are incorrect, Châmêsh!  You will be paid for what you’ve done in full!  By the time you’ve paid back every penny, your suffering will be so complete that you never will have existed.  We will allow you to live long enough to see the destruction of your siblings first, now that you have exposed the treachery of your kind.  Begone!”[/h3]

[color=50C878]”So long, smart guy.  Have a good life.”[/color]  In a flash, Panoptos drew a claw around Gene’s throat.  Not a single drop of blood spilled out, however, and not a single cell of flesh was cut; instead, a horizontal line of fire lay across his neck.  For all his bravado, Gene had not escaped his branding.  Then darkness enveloped him, and he stood in the very spot from which he had vanished.

With the Effigy gone, business proceeded.  First to break the silence that ensued Gene’s dishonorable discharge was Lily, transformed into a being of flame by some power within.  Panoptos kept his distance from her, knowing that her demand warranted reply from the universe’s ultimate authority.  Sure enough, the first head, the one apt to question anything and everything, replied.

[h3]”Is your life not reward enough?  Barring that, do you not wish your life to be more than the emptiness of exile?  Is your driving directive not the act of using humans for your personal enjoyment?  The survival of humanity is our gift to you, demoness.  Would you take it lightly and demand more?  What would satiate?  Panoptos, will you inform them so that they may become grateful?”[/h3]

Obliging, Panoptos crossed his arms.  [color=50C878]”Very rude to make such demands.  For some, like yours truly, service to the Council is more than enough.  A purpose in life isn’t something to shake a stick at.  Listen up, lovelies,”[/color] he addressed everyone, before pointing at the citadel in the distance.  [color=50C878]”First off, there’s that.  Who doesn’t wanna live in a castle?  As long as you remain in our favor, it and all its faculties are yours, as well as our services.”[/color]  Few, of course, would know the nature of the Watcher species as a slave race, created specifically by the Council for that purpose.  [color=50C878]”Next, access to the Core’s World Tree, to access whatever realms you need.  And one other thing.  We don’t want our agents dying like flies after we go through all this trouble to bring you here.  Your brands harbor a fragment of the Council’s power: a great rage that burns within you.  If you’re in trouble, reach inside, yank it out, and presto!  A more powerful form.  If you have one already, demons, you’ll find it enhanced.  I think that’s more than fair.”[/color]

At that moment, Souta finished his ruminations.  Since his childhood he knew that the nature of Gilgamesh, and particularly the Reclaimers, never quite sat right with him.  As many young people did, he had wondered for a long time what was truly right, and how he could bring such a rightfulness into being.  In his wildest imagination, however, he never imagined a situation quite like these.  Beneath the glare of the Charred Council he felt like an insect staring up at a giant, the easiest thing in the world to be crushed underfoot and forgotten utterly the next instant.  The idea of service to this unknown entity struck him as utterly alien, and yet, something inside him told him that these tree monoliths truly represented the best chance of humanity’s survival—not, as he’d always been told, Gilgamesh.  Souta knew that humans were flawed, particularly in their warmaking.  The adjudication of right and wrong, if anywhere, properly lay with a higher authority.  [color=teal]”I..ahem!”[/color]  He almost choked on his own saliva out of nervousness.   [color=teal]”I think it’s fair.  I wanna pledge myself to this, uh, the Charred Council.  Please.”[/color]  He flinched at Panoptos’ touch.  [color=50C878]”Oh, brave soldier.  We’re so pleased to have you on board.”[/color]  At that, Souta’s fear turned to anger.  No matter what the Council accomplished, he decided, he would despise the Watchers forever.  He placed his palm against the brand on his forehead, and felt only the slightest warmth.  The fire had already died away to near-invisibility.