Private It's Time To Cook

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

Malachor V hummed like a wounded animal, a subsonic ache that lived in stone and marrow. Lightning bled sideways across a slate-green sky, crawling the edges of shattered spires and collapsed temples like a memory that refused to die. The air tasted of iron and old engines. Far below the jagged horizon, the obsidian plains were veined with fault-glow—hairline fractures that pulsed, faint and patient, as if the planet still remembered the Mass Shadow's hand and wanted it back.

Virelia stood at the lip of a partially excavated amphitheater, a black ellipse bitten into the bedrock. Tyrant's Embrace rippled and settled with each breath: liquid obsidian frozen into ridged geometry, an exosculpted dominion made manifest. Six narrow, violet eyes burned on her helm's smooth faceplate, shifting with that uncanny, insect-precise awareness that spooked lesser minds and thrilled the dangerous ones. A hood of matte synthcloth draped over the helm and shoulders—mourning garb for a galaxy she intended to rule. At her sternum, the crystalline node beat a slow pulse of amaranth light. The runic filigree spidering outward answered in kind, glyphs breathing with her, quiet as a threat.

Wind crawled the amphitheater's edge. Her cape answered—layered synthweave whispering as its hidden tendrils flexed, testing the air like patient vipers before subsiding. She did not move for a long while. Malachor spoke in tremors; she listened in stillness.

The last time she had stood in a space with Vakhari, there had been heat enough to warp metal and chemical. Furnaces roared; alchemical kilns sobbed sparks; the ritual array drank blood and gave back geometry. Vakhari's hands—clever, unapologetic—had drawn lattices across diagrams that bent language to need. Where engineers stalled on tolerances, she wrote new tolerances. Where sorcerers demanded omen and obedience, she demanded proof—then extracted it with a laugh like a scalpel's glint. Together, they had made something obscene and beautiful: the Tyrant's Embrace, a grammar of control hammered into armor.

A line of glowlights winked alive along the amphitheater's inner ring, responding to her thought. Construction servitors paused, aware enough to be afraid. The ring would become a dais, the dais a court, the court a gravity well for ambition. Let them come and burn. Let them bring genius or die for lack of it.

The planet growled. Out beyond the broken teeth of the skyline, a ship shaped like an accusation slid from the cloud-deck, matte-black shadow against bruised green.

She let anticipation touch her. Briefly. A curl of pleasure at the coming of a mind that made good trouble. Virelia admired the ruthless generosity of Vakhari's craft: not a maker of trinkets, but of leverage. The galaxy had too many fools. It needed authors.

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia

As to be expected, she had of course arrived on time... A little earlier than expected in fact. Not that she was in a major rush to sit about in a place such as this, not the most comforting of spots... The history and enriched darkness about this place wasn't what discomforted the young Lutris, nothing like that. It was, in fact, the air. Dry, the ground nothing but arid wastes.

Her eyes spot Virelia as she made her way down into the carved out amphitheater, ever the melodramatic. Where there was desire, chaos followed closely behind. It would just so happen that today chaos was a mildly uncomfortable doctor of short stature.

"There you are!"

Vakhari smiles while waving to Virelia, almost tripping and sliding down the hill.

"No cozy office? Throne room? Air conditioning perhaps?"

She tucks away her discomfort with simple jokes, not really caring if Virelia found them amusing or not.

"Soooooo what do you need?"

There hadn't been much information given, but that was to be expected. What idiot sends all the details over the net?

Glancing around she doesn't see any equipment, no cages or tanks for subjects. Just- Well nothing really. ​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

Virelia's helm tilted, six violet eyes narrowing with amusement. The cape settled, dust obeying like a well-trained pet. She knows that Vakhari enjoys things to be simple and direct, so Virelia goes straight to the point.

"Start with you," she said. "Not me. What are your goals now—your feral ones. If I take the brakes off, what do you build first, what do you break, and who do you intend to become while doing it?"

She descended the last step, close enough for Vakhari to see the pulse at her sternum. "Answer that, and I'll show you the keys."

A beat. The mask's eyes flicked toward the empty ring and back.

"The office is being born," she added, deadpan. "Throne room is a hole with ambition. Air conditioning arrives when the ducts stop trying to murder the installers. Facilities are under construction, below and west—labs, drydocks, containment, an amphitheater that serves as both court and firing range depending on the verdict. You came early; I approve. Early is where the decisions live."

Her gaze walked Vakhari, respectful, clinical, a little hungry. "You've always been honest with metal. I want you honest with me. Tell me the project you've never pitched because it sounds like heresy in a grant meeting. The line you refuse to cross only because the budget line didn't exist. I can fix both."

She turned her head, listening to the subsonic thrum of Malachor like a cat to a wall. "The Dark Court needs an author of outcomes, not a museum of caution. You'll have a wing—your design, not mine. Blank writs. Sovereign access to materials that whisper, scream, and occasionally bite. Docks for anything you dream up to fly. Ethics? What ethics?." A slant of humor. "By which I mean: if it's beautiful and it works, I don't care what it is."

The helm leaned in, conspiratorial, voice lower. "I could say 'kneel and swear,' but I prefer you on your feet with dirty hands."

She straightened. "So. Goals. Plans. Give me the shape of your hunger. Then I'll feed it."

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia

So this was why they were all the way out here, isolated from pretty much every living thing, every set of eyes and ears be they organic or otherwise... This was a common practice, form a sense of comfort with your target, build rapport. If they get comfortable enough they will spill out all their dirty little sins on a silver platter. Used by law enforcement and even by the young Lutris herself, her typical chipper attitude and soft smile put in the work. All to hide what she really was, a monster.

We all have to make hard choices, she took it upon herself to make the hardest choice for everyone.

"I can't say that so far any of my pitched projects have ever been deemed heresy, or that credits have ever been a problem."

It wasn't as if she didn't have grand ambitions, her creations had continued to serve their purpose.

"People often get lost in the grand finale, forgetting about everything that comes before. This is more than true about us who create, I focus more on getting reliable tools in capable hands. While I do love massive projects focused on a custom order, I also love crafting something I know will find its way into many hands. And as it goes around, as people find satisfaction in this tool... They learn who made it."

It was clear she wanted others to use her creations, but the girl seemed less than interested in credits.

"Not that I would say no to another lab to work at however, people always need more tools their disposal, I know you understand."

Her sweet and soft persona hid what these words really meant, Vakhari knew how she was viewed in the eyes of Virelia. Calling the young Lutris genius, while honied she had zero doubts that at least was truthful. Afterall, if she didn't think Vakhari a genius of her craft then why come all the way out here to pitch this idea? Why make attempts at cracking the shell hiding who Vakhari really was? ​

"Answer that, and I'll show you the keys."

To which she did answer, the words twisted in both truth and lies. Intentionally kept vague, giving a simple answer wouldn't align. Behind simplicity there was always something more, her answer would make a mind think, and that is the key. You make them think, but on your own terms. Vakhari had played the cards, kept the appearance of just an enthusiastic crafter with a hidden side... She hid that she wanted to be galaxy renowned for her crafts.

This was a conclusion Vakhari predicted Virelia to come up with, something that had that inkling of truth to it, something that would satisfy and soothe.

"It has been a moment since I saw you last, I would hope that armor has been satisfactory?"

She perks her head up, taking a glance at the thing she helped create.
​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

The six violet eyes on Virelia's helm slid toward the younger woman, glimmering like lanterns under water. A faint laugh, low and dry, carried out through the vocoder.

"Satisfactory?" She tipped her head down, fingers brushing her breastplate where the violet core pulsed. "Vakhari, this isn't satisfactory. This is obscene. People write sermons about less. You don't make tools—you make sins that happen to function."

Her tone was sharp but not unkind; there was a gleam of respect beneath the mask.

She stepped closer, dust trailing her cape like obedient smoke. "You say tools, repetition, many hands. But the way you say it tells me the truth. 'Forgetting everything that comes before?' You want your signature carried galaxy-wide, burned into the knuckles of soldiers and the spines of ships. You want people to ask who made this?" A pause, almost teasing. "That's hunger I can respect."

She turned slightly, gesturing toward the barren stone amphitheater. "This is temporary discomfort. Beneath us—labs are rising, docks taking shape. A crucible, not a mausoleum. You'll have benches, furnaces, cages that hold more than flesh. You'll have room enough to be honest with your appetite. Early days. Ugly, but alive."

Her helm tilted again, voice lowering, almost conspiratorial. "I don't pay in credits. I pay in use. Your creations will be valued and used here."

A beat, then she chuckled softly, the sound edged with velvet mockery. "And yes, there will be air conditioning. Eventually. Assuming the ducts stop devouring the crew."

She let that hang, then folded her arms, clawed gauntlets clicking faintly. "So—keep the façade if it amuses you. Chipper mask, soft smile, monster behind it. It suits you. But don't waste my time pretending the only thing you want is reliable tools. You want renown. You want your work in every hand worth a damn."

She angled her head toward the armor again, almost indulgent. "You gave me inevitability. Now tell me what inevitability you want carved with your name on it."

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia ​

"Satisfactory?" She tipped her head down, fingers brushing her breastplate where the violet core pulsed. "Vakhari, this isn't satisfactory. This is obscene. People write sermons about less. You don't make tools—you make sins that happen to function."

After that whole spiel was over, Vakhari would raise a finger, smile in tow.

"I make perfection, my goal for perfection equals the satisfaction of my client."

The woman explained that the air ducts were causing an issue, was it some animal? Tech gone wild? Whatever it was, she was confused why they didn't just rip it out. She always made her creations obey, she was a master of these things was she not?

"A façade? Not enough gloom and moodiness?"

Just because someone thought they saw through it all, doesn't mean they got to the end of the page.

"I wouldn't say no to my name being known for perfect tools, more people speaking my name the more people come to me to ask for creations, the more I get to craft."

And the more death she got to sow without ever getting dirt on her hands.

"I would imagine you wish to show me the work being done? Or do we plan to stay here? I am at the very least intrigued."


​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

The violet facets of Virelia's helm tracked her with insect-precise patience, and then she gave a low laugh—warm as velvet, edged like a knife.

"Perfection," she echoed, voice wrapping around the word as though tasting it. "That's a dangerous addiction, Vakhari. But you wear it well."

She took a slow step closer, violet eyes flicking once over the small Lutris's frame, then back to the amphitheater. "And no. You don't need gloom or moodiness. Leave that to me. A mask works if it keeps people off-balance, not if it's convincing. Your façade is serviceable." A pause, amusement curling through. "Though if you ever want to test a more tragic persona, I'll lend you a hood. It wears you, not the other way around."

Her hands folded behind her back, gauntlets clicking faintly. "Names matter. Tools carry them farther than statues. You'll get yours whispered in the right corners. Spoken with equal parts hunger and envy. That's what happens when perfection cuts both ways."

The six glowing eyes narrowed with conspiratorial humor. "Besides, infamy is just fame that bothers the right people."

She turned slightly, gesturing with one hand toward the horizon where cranes, half-buried scaffolds, and glowing pylons marked the shape of what was rising. The dust swirled away from her cape like parted curtains.

"Of course I'll show you," she said simply. "We didn't drag you across half a galaxy to sit on a rock. Come below. The skeleton is raw, but you'll see the shape. Labs, vaults, foundries… everything a dangerous woman needs to lose track of time."

She let silence hang a moment, then added in a softer, licentious edge: "Besides, it's better when you see it before it's finished. That way, you can imagine how to ruin it correctly."

Her helm dipped, almost like a bow, respectful but never submissive. "Shall we?"

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia

Something from deep within the girl churned, cautiously stalking this stranger. It had taken time to notice, time waking from slumber. As the beasts yawned they noticed it, spotted, smelled it on Virelia. Vakhari herself wasn't rightly sure how she knew, but she did. Virelia had made a deal, a pact.

So that is how this little story began? By the touch of nightmare..

"A uh- A hood?"

She wasn't quite sure she understood, her coat already had a snow-white hood adorning the back of it.
​

"We didn't drag you across half a galaxy to sit on a rock. Come below. The skeleton is raw, but you'll see the shape. Labs, vaults, foundries… everything a dangerous woman needs to lose track of time."

"You'd be amazed just how many times I have been brought out to basically sit on a rock, or people visiting my office with not a single clue what they want tucked inside their skull."

To most, they would question why Virelia even humored the idea of Vakhari being a dangerous woman. Most got caught up in what their eyes saw, it was only natural of course. It never bothered Vakhari that most saw her as some harmless techie, worked pretty well for her.

"When it comes to this lab you speak of, how will it operate? I am very picky about who and what is in my work environment, I want my own section... Access being granted by me, visitors monitored by me, any and all security systems under my watch and my watch alone."

It was simply how she liked it, aside from her most recent assistant Valaine Valentine she hardly ever had others there. Efficient as a machine, listening to the calming sounds of her equipment.​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

The helm's six eyes glimmered, narrowing as though savoring the request rather than weighing it. A faint chuckle vibrated through the vocoder—low, amused, conspiratorial.

"You're picky," Virelia said. "Good. Dangerous people should be. Only the harmless tolerate clutter in their cages."

She angled her head, letting the violet light catch on the glyphs across her breastplate. "Your section will be yours. Walls, locks, systems. Access by only you, me and anyone you give permission." A pause—dry humor softening the weight. "I've no interest in micromanaging genius. I prefer to point it at problems and then stay out of the blast radius."

Her cape's tendrils stirred at the dust, curling and relaxing like predators at rest. "Assistants are optional. Take them if they amuse you, discard them when they don't. If you want solitude, you'll have it. If you want an army of technicians to bully, I'll have one delivered shrink-wrapped to your door. But the choice remains yours."

The helm tilted toward her, respectful but edged with playful malice. "The only rule I keep: what you build must serve. Whether it serves quietly, in millions of hands, or loudly, as one great monstrosity—irrelevant. The Dark Court does not fund hobbies. It feeds appetites."

Another laugh, lighter this time. "And if your machines whisper to you in the night, don't panic. That's only Malachor, licking the seams. It likes new tenants."

She turned slightly, pointing toward the half-lit tunnels descending into the rock. "Come. See your future hole in the ground. It's cold, ugly, and half-finished—perfect for you to break and remake to taste. A blank page. Your page."

Virelia let the silence breathe, then added with deliberate softness: "So yes, you'll have your section. But understand, Vakhari—when you close that door, it will be your kingdom. And kingdoms have costs. Build wisely, or beautifully, or terribly. I don't care which. Just make sure it matters."

The helm dipped in a small bow, as though mocking ceremony. "Satisfied?"

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia ​

"You're picky,"

Vakhari gives a satisfied nod, of course she was picky. Every lab she operated at had to be to her expectations, otherwise she couldn't focus, couldn't bring herself to create. The only stipulation was that Virelia seemed set on having the spare keys... Understandable enough, just something she would have to get used to.

Is Vierlia the type to go about and place unwashed hands all about her lab? All over her things?

Vakhari thinks back to when she helped build the armor that adorned Vierlia's biology, do you really think she would forget how the woman kept grabbing at her tablet? Nuh uh!

"Hmm.. Fair enough, I pick biological assistants when I want to. In fact, I only have one as of right now."
​

"And if your machines whisper to you in the night, don't panic. That's only Malachor, licking the seams. It likes new tenants."

"Huh? Oh, they can join the rest. Spending so much time on Yalara you begin to hear just about anything, I'm sure you understand."

She smiles, surely they were both in the know here?

"Anyway, droids are easy enough to process. But what of my fleshy assistant? I've grown fond of having them around, even if she is a little... Slow with things. Makes sure to fetch my coffee every morning, and tries her best to listen. One of the acolytes from Korriban if I recall correctly, named Valaine Valentine ."

For once Vakhari didn't know something, that Valaine had been learning from two teachers.
​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

The helm's six violet eyes blinked once, slow and deliberate, like the shutter of a camera catching something amusing. A low laugh spilled out, velvet-edged and just a touch mocking.

"Ah. Valaine," Virelia said, voice curling around the name as though savoring it. "So that's where she's been sneaking off. Fetching coffee." A pause. "How tragic. My apprentice reduced to a caffeine courier."

She stepped closer, talons clasping loosely behind her back, respectful but never soft. "Understand this, Vakhari—Valaine is mine first. Apprentice, blade, experiment, heir in small measure. She listens to you because I allow it. You can use her hands if it suits you, but her loyalty, her bones, her becoming—that belongs to me."

A faint hum from the crystal node in her chest matched the wry amusement in her tone. "That said… it pleases me that she's useful. If fetching cups for you teaches patience, I call that a victory. If she learns to listen as well as she claims, so much the better. Just don't spoil her. Slow learners are still learners."

She inclined her head toward Vakhari, tone softening into something almost courteous. "So keep her if you like. Train her fingers, test her nerves. Just remember: when I call, she comes. Always. She is a bridge between us, not a gift."

Virelia gestured lightly toward the darkened tunnels, violet eyes gleaming. "So yes, let her serve. Fetch, carry, break her nails on your machines. Just don't mistake her for yours. She's a borrowed instrument—sharp, but already carved to my grip."

The helm tilted, a conspirator's bow. "That arrangement trouble you?"

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia ​

"How tragic. My apprentice reduced to a caffeine courier."

Vakhari raises a brow, there was already something to be challenged here... However, she was curious what all Virelia had left to say about this.
​

"Understand this, Vakhari—Valaine is mine first. Apprentice, blade, experiment, heir in small measure. She listens to you because I allow it. You can use her hands if it suits you, but her loyalty, her bones, her becoming—that belongs to me."

There was a picture being painted here, one that left Vakhari with a little grin. She had already been teaching the Sangnir, already left the surgical mark thanks to the implanted weapons... This seemed to be a rather sensitive topic for Virelia, duly noted in the mind of the Arkanian.

"Done?"

She asks after Virelia had finished, the question able to be taken as a genuine one.. Or a mocking one.

"Do you happen to treat every teacher in this manner? I'm not sure what all you do think I am teaching your apprentice, but I highly doubt biology lessons are any threat. I was holding a lecture on Korriban, trying to teach acolytes how to remove organs efficiently. By the end of my class I was approached by who I know now is your apprentice, my interest is in my works and knowledge."

It was indeed no lie, the pale woman had grown rather fond of having Valaine Valentine around. Despite being a slow learner, the Sangnir was really the only person Vakhari allowed to be around her for a prolonged time.

"I would argue she hasn't been reduced to a 'caffeine courier' as you so eloquently put it, she fetches the drinks on her own volition, I have personally only seen growth. In an age where so many sink into the tide of apathy and acceptance, I for one fully encourage others to seek out their role and reason in life."

The words were not an outright declaration of war, more akin to a line being drawn in the sand. It was clear that Vakhari intended to teach Valaine, supposedly helping the Apprentice find her role in life.

It would be Virelia's choice on how she viewed this. The classical teachings of the Sith would argue that this was an invasion, just another dagger being formed. However, the knowledge she did know about Vakhari only served to back up the young Lutris' words. Creation, and knowledge. Of the examples the ambitious Darth had seen from her own violet eyes, it was an ever present truth in that Vakhari was indeed a strange individual... Perhaps this strangeness stemmed from the place she claimed to have studied, the dead Yalara.

"Now, I do believe you were showing me around?"​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

The six violet eyes on Virelia's helm dimmed, then flared again, slow as a predator's blink. Her voice followed, smooth as silk on steel.

"Careful, Vakhari."

She didn't raise her tone, but the air seemed to tighten around the words, heavy as the planet's gravity wells. Her cape stirred, the tendrils flexing once before coiling back in.

"You mistake my amusement for permission, and my courtesy for indifference. Both are finite." A pause, low laughter, soft and velvet-dark. "You are right about one thing—knowledge is no threat. Teach her to cut, to slice, to brew whatever poisons your imagination conjures. I don't mind if she fetches cups, or carries your tablets, or even warms your bed. I am not jealous."

She took a slow step closer, helm tilting down, violet light washing across Vakhari's face. "But do not confuse that freedom with ownership. My apprentices are mine first—always. They may learn from you, work for you, love you if they choose. But when the moment comes, when I extend my hand, they return to me. Not to you. Not to anyone else."

Her talons flexed behind her back, clicking faintly. "You should count yourself lucky, Vakhari. Luckier than you know. Anyone else speaking so openly defiant about what is mine would have found themselves peeled apart by now. Bone, thought, reputation—shattered as lesson." A beat, and the helm's eyes narrowed with a glimmer of humor. "And yet here I am, talking with you instead. That should tell you something."

The laughter returned, low and licentious, softening the edges of the rebuke. "You interest me too much to destroy. That's the truth. And because of that, I allow this little sparring match. But do not mistake it again. You are genius, yes. But genius survives best when it remembers where it stands."

She tilted her helm back slightly, the menace fading like smoke, replaced by something more conspiratorial. "Now. Say no more about apprentices and who claims them."

A pause—gentle, mocking, respectful all at once. "We both keep our hands cleaner that way, don't we?"

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Darth Virelia

As much as the doctor interested Virelia, in turn the Darth was held as heavy interest of the doctor. Oh did her insides tingle, her monstrous mind jitter, her passengers hunger. Vakhari kept a straight face despite all that was being said, all that was threatened.

Yet deep inside she could hardly contain the sheer magnitude of joy she felt when gazing upon this wonderful animal she had help create... So violent, so greedy... Dear hells it was perfect. The tension in their very soul oozed with paranoia, how badly she wanted to break the facade and just DRINK it in.

The nightmares were practically trying to rip out of her flesh just to get a better taste, to get a feel of such greed ridden skin.
​

"We both keep our hands cleaner that way, don't we?"

"Hmm?"

Vakhari shakes her head, keeping her composure.

"A what now? Sparring match... I see I see."

What she did truly see was a rather violent and territorial animal.

"I am simply stating that I plan to teach the girl, I don't care about little titles. 'Peeling' me apart would serve no real purpose, you know that."

It was up to others to determine how Vakhari came off when speaking, the young Lutris always seeming to have the same mixed signals as Virelia herself. Was she mocking? Or speaking in a simple manner?

"You had asked earlier what I wanted, I stated it. A workspace, privacy, an adjustable work environment, and creation. I know what I enjoy, and what I don't. If I was to have some sort of half-witted plan to take something from you, why in the hells would I so openly place that on the table?"

Her tone stayed opposite to Virelia's, monotone, machine-like. Was the reasoning akin to a parent lecturing a child? However it was viewed, it was far from the truth. All of her focus had been on maintaining composure, despite how giddy every cell within her chaotic little frame was within this moment.

"With that in mind, I suggest two things. Firstly, kindly do not threaten me. Secondly, may we please continue to see the beginnings of the facility? Chances are I can solve whatever issue is in the vents, perhaps even take a look at the current blueprints? Now would indeed be a good time for me to put in the plans for the lab and see what all I want inside it."​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Genius Minds."

Tags - Vakhari Lutris

The helm's six violet eyes narrowed, a shimmer of light passing over them like shutters closing. Virelia let the silence hang, long enough to sting, before answering with a dry, velvet laugh.

"Watch your tongue, little engineer. You know enough to design machines that bite—so you should know when words have sharper teeth than steel. I warned, I didn't threaten. If I meant to peel, you'd already be screaming."

Her tone wasn't cruel. If anything, it was indulgent, licentious in the way a predator might toy with prey it didn't actually intend to eat. She tilted her head, cape spilling dust like water.

A pause, the hum of the crystalline node in her breastplate rising faintly. "You're right. Your wants are simple enough: space, privacy, creation. So take them. Take the ducts too, if you're bold enough. Malachor eats maintenance crews whole—maybe it will respect you more."

The helm angled toward the tunnels, gesturing with one long-taloned hand. "Come, then. See the bones. Ugly scaffolds, half-laid circuits, machines that whine louder than the apprentices who built them. Blueprints too—if you find them legible. The skeleton is raw, but it's yours to flesh out."

As she turned, she let the smallest thread of humor lace her voice, mocking herself and the moment. "And for the record—I don't care about titles either. Only outcomes. But I do care about loyalty. Loyalty is a material stronger than phrik, and much harder to mine. Break that, and nothing you build will stand."

She started down into the dark, boots whispering against the stone, each movement balanced, predatory, deliberate. "Come," she repeated, voice softened now, almost inviting. "You'll get your lab. You'll get your privacy. You'll get your kingdom of screws and shadows. All I ask is that you remember who opened the door for you."