R E A P E R
The Malsheem was the last place Allyson wanted to be. She hated the ship—its halls, air, and how it made her skin crawl. It always felt like it was trying to get inside her like it didn't want her there but also wouldn't let her go. The last time she'd stepped aboard, she had come with Madelyn Lowe to sit in on a Kainite meeting. It was the first and, if she had her way, the last.
It had been everything she expected: dramatic, self-important, centered on the dyad between Prazutis and Carnifex.
At least back then, she had Madelyn with her. It made everything more bearable. Madelyn kept her grounded when the ship pressed in, and the voices started creeping in.
Today, she was alone.
Madelyn had other obligations—Empire business—and Allyson was left to handle this. She paused mid-step, briefly wondering what it was like to have a regular job with regular hours.
It wasn't the time for questions like that.
She kept walking, led by those stationed throughout the Malsheem. Her arrival had been expected. That fact alone made her uneasy. Meeting with Carnifex on neutral ground had always been tense—doing it on his ship was something else entirely.
Especially considering one of those meetings that involved interrupting his dinner.
Her hands slipped into the pockets of her leather jacket. The familiar weight of it gave her a small sense of comfort. As she moved, her thoughts returned to her last conversation with Madelyn—the Genesis pool, the debt, the changes. It circled in her mind like a loop she couldn't switch off.
She needed answers. And she wanted them from the source.
As she neared the meeting point, she felt his presence. Her feet stopped. The Force around her shifted subtly but unmistakably. She was still masking herself—still hiding her true alignment—but even under that control, she could feel the difference.
The Malsheem didn't feel as aggressive this time. It wasn't pushing back against her or pulling her in. It felt… aligned, almost like something had shifted to make space for her. She didn't like the feeling, and she understood why.
The truth sat just beneath the surface—one she had resisted more than once. The fight with the Witch of Polis Massa had broken something she'd promised to never give up.
And she had done it—for one reason.
She brought a hand to her face briefly, grounding herself.
Then, without hesitating again, Allyson pushed forward and entered the chamber where she had been summoned to meet the Butcher King.
"Long time no see, Carnifex," she said, her voice casual but firm. A sharp grin followed. "I hope you've been well, old friend."
There was no fight between them today—mostly business.
"I have a few questions about
