FSE

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K, so I was looking over some of the stuff I've already written and found this story I wrote in highschool, and much to my suprise, it's furry. Or at least, it's furry in a chapter or two, even if in this particular chapter it only hint's at how. So, I was hoping I could post the chapters I had finnished of this and get some opinions. If I ever get around to writing this thing again, I would love to compleat the story and attempt to get it published as a novel or novelet, so it's clean as it gets. No yiff, no sex, and almost no swearing at all. Hope y'all like it, it's one of my more thurraly edited pieces.

Note to the moderators: this chapter is NOT FURRY, but is setting up the story and millinu that will lead to furs, so please don't deleat it... please? The story, when I"m done posting all that i've written, will have fur's in it. Patience would be nice.

Sypher Island: God's Blade

Chapter 1: Pasts and Possession

Two friends, Zano and Dukka, circled each other slowly, each studying the other for any weakness, any flaw in their form that would allow for an advantage. Each of the two held a weapon with a handle, hilt, and a metal rod about two feet long that hummed with power. Suddenly, an opening appeared and Dukka instinctively threw himself at Zano, and his friend blocked him firmly. The two rods met with a flash of electricity and a whiff of ozone. Now each combatant exchanged blows and parries faster then thought in a dance of flashing steel and willpower.

The rest of the gym class sat watching in awe as the tazer rods flashed in rapid sequence like some strange strobe light. Not a person there doubted that Zano and Dukka were the best in their self defense class when the opponents disengaged with a new burst of blows.

"You could end this now," Dukka taunted, "if you just gave up. You know I always win."

Zano didn't really hear him, but just squaring off with his best friend again reminded him of long past summers when they would spar with harmless wooden staffs for fun. He was jerked from his memory, and had to move quickly to stop Dukka's new attack.

"That was a cheep shot." Muttered Zano as his weapon flashed and hissed in his hands, sending sparks and shadows skidding across the linoleum covered gym.

"Those are the best." Dukka replied, pleased with the new advantage.

"All's fair in love and war?" Zano asked, gritting his teeth.

"Specially the last one." was Dukka's smirking answer.

Both Zano and Dukka pushed off from each other and entered again into a flurry of pure reaction and adrenalin. Slash and block, thrust and dodge, attack and counter attack, while both sides wore the other down. Their dangerous dance went on until, Dukka saw his last opening. Zano parried too early and Dukka reversed his swing, bringing his attack from high right to low left. Zano saw the reverse and tried to jump away, but he was too late and the tazer rod nicked his thigh. Even the glancing blow sent enough electricity through his sparring gear to leave his leg completely numb.

The pudgy coach Achilles raised his right hand straight into the air.

"Match!" he yelled. "Dukka Sorrows is the victor!"

The class applauded politely as Dukka and Zano slumped over from exhaustion, their twin muscles-on-wire frames heaving in a search for more air.

"Remove your helmets and shake hands." announced Coach and both contestants took off their masks. Zano's deep auburn hair was drenched, no longer in its usual spikes, and Dukka's midnight black locks were just as sweaty as they met in the middle of the mat.

"You stay on the defensive too much," commented Dukka, "as always."

Zano rubbed the last of the electric cramps out of his leg as he shook Dukka's hand.

"And you still take too many chances," replied Zano, "as usual."

Dukka gave a sarcastic smile and turned away. As he left, Zano felt a slight regret and went to talk with his friend. They used to be so close, and Dukka could still turn around... but coach Achilles interrupted.

"All right you donut dithering dunk heads," he yelled, "Hit the showers and get to class!"

*

Zano left the showers and entered the halls of Sypher High school when Coach Achilles stopped him.

"Good match today, Zano," he complemented. "Great form. We sure could have used you in The Force, back in the day."

Zano sighed at the compliment. Achilles was great and all, but he went on and on about his time spent on the Uber Guard. The pudgy coach had been a fit commander and had served honorably for twenty years before the Uber Guard was replaced by a mechanical police force called the Bionic Uber guard but after he had become a high school self defense teacher and let himself go, the memories were all he really had.

"Thanks Coach." Replied Zano as he turned and headed to class.

Zano walked the halls and took stock of his day so far and saw that it had gone well. His Calc class had been used up by some government official that came to talk to the class about Feral-amphetamines and the dangers of using drugs such drugs without telling them what Feral really was, and the field trip that they had planned for the next day. Zano had barely listened, and was only interested in the two Ant BUG's that shadowed the official. It wasn't often you got to see an Ant unit of the Bionic Uber Guard. Each was Five foot seven and completely covered in red bio-steel plating except for the ligaments that peeked out from inside each joint. The insect like mandibles under each Ant's emotionless visor, and the large revolver-like cannon that replaced one arm gave them a commanding presence. Zano had thought the lecture was pointless with them around and, truth be told, so had the official, who was distracted by the Ant BUGs himself. He had given the same speech to the same kids for fifteen years and you didn't need a drug test to tell that none of the kids there used Feral.

Zano's history class had just been a review on the island they all lived on, Sypher Island. Zano felt board just remembering the lecture on how the huge moon shaped island was made, paid for, and then changed into its own city state for a bio-tech company called Dimensional Pandemonium: Genetics and Mechanics.

Every student in the school and almost every person on the island had heard the story since they could walk, and Zano had asked his father before that. But he still had sat through a lecture on how his home had become self reliant and the prominent country in science.

It would have been an interesting story if the historians hadn't gotten a hold of it, and then it was all politicians with some unpronounceable names who made subtly small political maneuvers with some inconceivable significance that allowed Sypher Island to be completely cut of from the world, never mind how they used terra-forming machines to make an island and city bigger then New York, never mind the advanced genetic research that they created to do everything from power cars to re-grow limbs.

None of the students ever wondered about what happened to the rest of the world. They had been brought up to not care, just like their parents and their parent's parents had been brought up. Their history books just stopped mentioning Asia, America and all of Europe, and information had just stopped coming from them. Two of the few to EVER wonder had been Zano and Dukka. When they were ten years old they asked Zano's adopted father Amos, who said that the rest of the world became so reliant on Sypher that they stopped doing things of importance among themselves and just waited for Sypher to do things. Not a person left Sypher, not a person traveled there, and not one person on Sypher cared. Zano had slept through history.

He stopped walking down the hallway and stood in front of his next class: Introduction to Genetics. Zano had high hopes that this class would be much more interesting; they were going to discuss Feralamphetamines to complement the officials lecture. Zano opened the class door and sat in his seat. He looked around the room at the common place marvels around him in the spacious science lab. The beakers that boiled up light, the powerful microscopes attached to living batteries, and even the class pet, a frog the class had put together themselves.

The door at the other end of the lab suddenly blew open as the teacher strode in and sat in his desk

The Teacher, Dr. Zower, was a tall lean man with white, receding hair. He had harsh eyes, a beak like nose, bushman eyebrows and a tendency to be sarcastic and longwinded with his students. The students sat down and the bell rang. Zower waited for a few stragglers to come in late before he began.

"O.k." he started, "as you all know, Feral-amphetamines, or Feral, or Beast, or whatever street name you want to call it, is a metamorphic drug. What you don't know is what those last four syllables mean, 'metamorphic.' Can anyone of you tell me what that means?" Dr. Zower's hawk like gaze swept the class as one of those awkward silences settled in.

Zetta Castor, a petite little girl of Asian decent who Zano always admired for being an intelligent and outgoing person (and pretty attractive anyways) tentatively raised her hand.

"Ha, a brave one!" exclaimed Dr. Zower.

"Sir does it mean that Feral changes your appearance? I mean... ya, everyone knows that but..." Zetta wilted under Dr. Zower's gaze, who apparently looked angry all the time because he kept going.

"No, your quite right, everyone knows it changes you appearance, but metamorphic means a little more then that It means that it changes what you are, even on a genetic level, not just how you look. Now," he continued, "is anyone brave enough to reach into common knowledge and tell me how you can change what you are at a genetic level?" Sarcasm simply dripped from his voice as he scowled down the bridge of his nose at the class.

Bobby Bastion, who always sat at the back of the class and joked with his buddies, scrunched up his face in concentration; making a face that made Zano want to laugh. He then slowly raised his hand, like a timid animal testing the waters.

"So, back from reaching I see, Mr. Bastion" Dr. Zower joked as he pointed at Bobby who, like the rest of the class, did not get the joke.

"Uh, sir, does Beast work like gene-mites, ya know, reading genetic information and stuff? Cus my dad works with med supplies and says Beast users is always stealin' gene-mites and, I think, well..." Bobby slowly fell into silence under Zower's attention. He was just amused.

"Yes, Mr. Bastion it seems like you, Ms. Castor and I are the only ones thinking in the room, but you are more correct then you realize. Gene-mites, as common knowledge says, are genetically engineered to read genetic data and use that data to repair any missing pieces to the organism they are injected into. The usefulness of this is why gene-mites are such an achievement in micro-organism engineering. Every advancement, however, can be twisted to be dangerous. Feralamphetamines are only gene-mites soaked in a growth hormone, an addictive narcotic, and the genetic information of whatever animal you choose." Dr. Zower was talking faster now, not wanting to stop his lecture to ask students for answers he could easily show his students. He turned to the whiteboard and started to draw figures and diagrams that none of the students were able to understand.

"The combination of human and animal DNA confuses the gene-mites and the growth hormone supercharges them. The gene-mites then change whoever is injected with them to suddenly grow animal features depending on the animal DNA. The changes would normally be extremely painful, so the narcotic is added, which also gives the overall drug its addictive qualities."

"Thus we have the effects of feral; the narcotic dilates the eyes, creates cravings and temporary loss of perception. The growth hormone starts mood swings and loss of fertility in both males and females. The gene-mites use the hosts own energy to make changes, so users will experience extreme weight loss and muscle depletion." Dr. Zower suddenly stopped scribbling and turned to us, his usual flamboyancy gone, replaced in his voice by a morbid deliberateness.

"The gene-mites, in fifty percent of all cases, go inside the users head and change things best left alone, resulting in dementia, paranoia, or even death."

You could have heard yourself blink in the room as Zower continued. "Lastly, one hundred percent of those who take feral, dead, alive or otherwise, experience a wide variety of changes anywhere from a point to the ears, slotted pupils, and extra hair growth, to the growth of claws, feathers, scales, and even extra organs and limbs. They are, in effect, transformed into a monster."

The class was beaten into a silence as morbid as Zower's tone with every syllable he spoke. Every student had heard rumors of people growing fangs and beaks, but no adult had ever come out and said it. Zano's strong features were locked in a grim expression, his steel grey eyes set forward, as he raised his hand surly and unafraid.

"Yes, Mr. Vanguard" Said Zower as he pointed to Zano.

"Sir, you said that beast uses the body's energy to make changes, right? What happens if it uses up all the energy?"

Dr. Zower stared at Zano and replied in a completely flat tone.

"What's two minus two?"

"Zero."

"Exactly, as in, zer-O.D." Dr. Zower suddenly looked weary and spent. "Notes are on pg 3 of your text book. Let's get this over with."

*

Brrrrrrrrrrrring!

The school bell rang shrilly into the afternoon and over the school courtyard and instantly a horde of students rushed out the front door in a stampede of chatter and bodies. Zano walked calmly and purposely through the crowd, listening to the buzz of excitement of the announced field trip, how boring classes were and who was dating/braking-up with whom. Zano stopped listening for a moment to take his rollerblades out of his backpack.

They were beautiful rollerblades, sleek and stylish with their own small bio-engine in them. Zano was picking small amount of dirt from his last adventure when his shoulder accidentally collided with Dukka, and Dukka's things fell all over.

"Aw, sorry Duke." Zano said apologetically, and picked up the nearest book He stopped dead when he saw what the book in his hand was. He recognized it only from description as a book he shouldn't even open, let alone read. His father had described it as a dark book written for a dark religion with a darker purpose and the description fit perfect. The book was cased in dark leather with only an indentation in the shape of a crucifix made of bones in the same color. Zano opened the book and saw that it was written in black ink that reflected red on smoky grey pages. Zano couldn't read any of the words before Dukka snatched the book away from him and hid it in his bag. Zano was shocked at the look of mistrust in his friend's eyes.

"What was that?" asked Zano, still slightly in shock.

"Nothin'." replied Dukka defensively as he tried to turn toward his bus home.

"That wasn't nothing." said Zano firmly.

"It's research, Z"

"For what?"

"School."

"I can tell when your lying, Duke."

Dukka wrestled with an answer for a moment, feeling wandering between his friend and what he knew his friend would say.

"It's for my parent's," he said finally, "and my sister, Bella"

"What do you mean?" asked Zano, confused as ever, "its bad and all how they've been in the hospital for all these years after that accident, but how is Satanism going to..."

"They won't see me." Dukka cut in, a bitter edge to his voice, "They won't answer my calls, my letters, or let me in when I visit. The doctors just tell me they're recovering and won't see me every time I go. Bella won't even update her blog on the city net." Zano was stunned at the implications as Dukka kept talking harsher and harsher.

"No one's seen them or heard from them in two whole years, down to the day. It's like they've disappeared from the face of the earth, and the 'government authority' says they're still there and they just don't want to see me." The anger in Dukka's face, the bitter rage and resentment, was so strong that Zano had a hard time recognizing his friend under it all. And still, he tried to understand.

"You never told..." began Zano.

"You never asked." Dukka replied quickly, like an answer that's been rehearsed until it became smooth and worn.

"You think that the government is doing this?"

"The government is probably hiding something my family saw in under town or in the slums. So my family had a little 'accident' down their before they could come up here and tell us all what they saw. We won't find out any other way, you and your father know how separate up town and under town are."

Zano did know, but he still didn't understand.

"But why the Satanism?" asked Zano, "You know what that can do to you, your dad was, IS, a priest just like mine. Come on, your family was doing priest work when it happened." Zano was searching for calm reason in his friend, but found only more rage.

"Ya, they were doing holy work, weren't they? They were preaching and serving and praying for the down trodden, and you know what happened? They were beaten, raped, and pumped full of enough Beast to mutate ten people to death. They were working for God, and THAT happened to them."

Dukka turned away, he didn't want Zano to see him cry his familiar, angry tears, but he still went on.

"And you know what? I still believed, so I prayed. In the bitter depths of woe, I prayed for them. With righteous fury and humble remorse, I prayed for them. With every ounce of my soul, I prayed for them. And what kind of response did I get, from God, my family, or even the doctors? Nothing. Not one damn peep from anyone. I prayed for a year, some times for days on end, and nothing happened, so I'm gonna tell you right now, damn God and Heaven for all the good they've done me, I'm goin' to hell."

Dukka turned to walk away, he was finished explaining himself, but Zano grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He started to beg his friend.

"Stop, right now." He said, his voice low and urgent but getting louder as he went. "Listen, I know you're hurt, but that book in your bag isn't going to help"

"You don't know how hurt I am." Dukka told him with venom entering his voice.

"No, I don't," countered Zano, "but God does, and if you're right about your family, he's the only one who can help. Backing into a corner and biting the hand that feeds you just because your hurt isn't going to help. God will, if you wait for his time."

Dukka turned on his friend in anger for the first time in his life. "Don't talk to me about God, and I won't wait for his time!" Dukka swung himself away.

In a burst of anger he had never had before, Zano tuned his friend around violently and yelled in his face, "Damn it, Dukka! If you're so hell bent on fire and damnation then someone ought to send you there before you can harm anyone else!"

Dukka was stunned by the sudden outburst and could do nothing but turn once again and storm moodily toward the busses through a now hushed crowed, leaving in his wake questions ad whispers that rippled through the students. Everyone watched Zano, eyes full of concern mingled with fear.

Zano looked at the silent crowd and left as the students parted for him and traded the whispers they dare not say and the questions they dare not ask. Each question was skittering around like an insect on an open floor, not wanting to be noticed but still obviously there.

"Why are they fighting, they're friends, right?"

"They were friends, but they sure aren't now."

"Do you think Zano meant it?"

"He's never said something he didn't mean, but why hurt Dukka?"

"What's wrong with those two?"

"Why, why?"

"Why?"

These, and more, mixed with the same doubt and confusion in their eyes, going through the student body as Zano strapped his roller blades to his feet and left for home, his head filled with different questions and doubt, but the same kind of confusion. He had some dark questions for his father when he got home.

*

Sypher City, being on an Island, was built up instead of out. Every inch of land that was flat or flattened was covered in massive sky-scrapers made of bio-steel and solar panel glass surrounded by five levels of roads that wrapped around each building like some kind of concrete vine growing on leafless trees reflecting sunlight. Zano left his schools courtyard on a fourth level road, zipped down the pedestrian lane, and worried.

What was he going to do about Dukka? He couldn't just let his friend do this to himself, could he? And what about Dukka's family? Dukka wasn't lying, Zano could tell, but how could he not hear from his family for two years? Bella wasn't even updating her blog? Even when she had fallen from third to second level Main St, a ten story drop, and broken half her body, she still updated her blog every waking day she had, even if all she wrote was "ow". How could what was happening to Dukka, how could that much pain and sorrow, be allowed? Zano stopped thinking to look around. The sun was just starting to fall and it shone brilliantly in a deep, royal blue sky. There was a gentle, humid breeze that cooled the skin next to the balmy seventy nine degree weather that seemed to always hang around the city. Citizens walking by, or riding a bike, a skate-board, rollerblades like Zano, or even Bio-powered cars smiled and laughed like nothing could possibly go wrong in this tropic utopia. How could Dukka be allowed to suffer in THIS?

Zano, lost in thoughts that he wish he didn't have to deal with, almost passed the building he lived in, but remembered just in time to turn on the fourth level terrace. He took an elevator up two stories (Not fifth level like some rich prat, but not second either), went right down the hall and opened the door to his apartment.

"I'm home!" he called down the hall and from his fathers study came a sound that could have been of recognition. Zano passed the pictures on the wall and ran his hand over the ones of his and Dukka's family's as if he could touch the memories. All the years they went to the Carnival of Masks, or the times they saw an air show by the zip BUG's. His hand paused on a picture of the once they all went skiing and boarding on Mount Diatribe and his eyes paused on Bella's face. It beamed out from under a heavy coat, cheeks red and lips blue from the cold but still as happy as ever. Zano reflected on Dukka's story and couldn't help but wonder what were Bella was now. He felt a new surge of determination and when to ask his adopted father, Amos Vanguard. A priest he had know as father before he knew what a priest was, the one man he went for every question he and Dukka couldn't figure out, and the only person he could trust now that Dukka was falling.

Zano Moved to the study door and swung it open to his father studying a new religious book from outside of Sypher city. As soon as Zano was in, Amos closed the book and turned his calm, ever-green eyes toward him. Father's and son's eyes met and, for an instant they felt like all adopted children and parents. They both lamented how different they looked, how un-related.

Zano was tall and covered in cut, lean muscle while Father Amos was Short and wide. Zano had high-set, razor-like cheekbones on a strong face with a straight, simple nose while Amos's face was squat, and extremely square.

Both the father and the son would never have lamented such small details if they had only looked for the similarities. They both had the same confident posture, with shoulders back, chin up and feet planted firmly with every step. They both had the same tone to their voice: steady, clear voices that couldn't lie even if the words weren't true. Even their eyes, such different shades of green and grey, had the same kind of light behind them, a steady light that told of open confidence, a light that reviled the soul.

It was Zano's eyes that tipped off Amos that something was wrong. Zano's steel eyes were colored with an unfamiliar emotion, doubt. Amos was quickly worried and spoke before Zano could.

"What's wrong?" he asked with growing concern.

Zano broke down. "Father, it's Dukka." he said, and told his father everything.

Amos went from concern to alarm and then deep sorrow as he heard what Zano had to say.

"What am I going to do?" Zano asked, ending his story with the questions that plagued him, "I'm not even sure if I can blame Dukka. He's been hurt so bad for so long." He turned to his father with that unaccustomed doubt prevalent in his voice. "If you were taken like that from me, I don't know that I wouldn't make the same mistakes. What could the Sorrows' know that's so dangerous? Why were Dukka's family taken?"

Zano's head slumped down and hung from his shoulders as Amos hugged him reassuringly. Father Amos was looking up at the mounted sword mounted above his study door. It was a highly polished weapon of the finest grown bio-steel. A single edged, four inch wide, forty one inch long blade with a strong hilt made from several plates of steel and a bladed hand guard bolted together. It was the blade he used for self-defense whenever he preached down in under town or the slums with his friend Father Sorrows, Dukka's father. Amos felt sadder then the day he wasn't there to save his friend.

"It's alright," he whispered reassuringly to Zano, "It's going to be alright.

*

Dukka rode home sitting at his usual seat at the back of the bus thinking about his and Zano's fight. He angrily scratched words into the seat in front of him with a pen knife without caring what he wrote as he thought venomous thoughts. What right did Zano have to lecture him about God? No one could understand. Zano didn't know what it was like! What would he do if everyone HE cared about was taken and held hostage? How could he judge?

Dukka stopped scratching and looked to see what he had written. Among the usual profanities was Zano's name.

The bus dropped Dukka and a handful of other students off in front of the building across from the one Zano lived in. Zano could have ridden the bus, but liked the freedom of rollerblades. Dukka used to take rollerblades but now favored the isolation of the back of the bus. The other students avoided Dukka as he went to his apartment. Up the stairs, a left and a right.

He opened the door to his family room and instantly felt a sharp pang of his namesake, sorrow, followed by more moody anger. It had been a year since he had realized his family wasn't coming home, two since they had been gone, and he still felt as empty as the first day. He felt empty like every room in this apartment felt empty, no matter how much furniture was in them. Their still wasn't a day he didn't wish he hadn't gone to school two years ago instead of going with his family to under town.

Dukka plodded past memories. That's where Bella sat to blog, that's where Mom would sit to read. He grabbed food from the fridge in the kitchen not caring what he got and ate without feeling full or hungry. He didn't have to worry about food, or even money because he, like everyone child whose parent's where "Ill or unable to work" got money for necessities and entertainment. He got enough for two children even though his sister wasn't there. He felt like he was being paid to be quiet and not draw attention to his parent's absence.

Dukka sat in the kitchen and soaked up the bittersweet memories around him. That's where father always sat to eat breakfast, and that's where he sat to study. That couch is where Bella fell asleep every New Year, mom stood here when I sat there. All the memories welled up inside of him and filled him with a bitter rage, a painful sadness and a drive to do what he must.

The people who still had his family didn't want him to make noise, so he was about to make more noise then they had ever heard before. He reached into his bag and pulled out the book he shouldn't have. Dukka walked across the apartment, into his room and started to prepare the ritual.

He had read the book; it was full of evil things. How to curse someone's hair to fall out, how give someone boils and warts. Plagues and bad luck and even how to hurt a person without touching them. He couldn't use these; he wanted to get back at a group, not a person.

He set three bowls around a blank sheet of paper, each bowl patterned with symbols whose meanings were lost to the world centuries ago.

He needed more power then just a few hat tricks.

He set three leg bones of a ram, one between each bowl, and set their ends together above the paper. He tied a string to the ends and hung over the paper a calligraphy brush that was filled with ink.

The only ritual in the book with all the power Dukka wanted, all the revenge he felt entitled to, came at a terribly high price.

He began to fill the bowls. In the first, he placed a torn and crumpled page ripped from The Bible, the second, a rumpled copy of his report card, and in the third he opened his finger with his pen knife and smeared the inside with blood. He placed five candles shaped like pentagrams in a pentagram around him and the ritual. He reached into his memory to a certain page in the book, and began to chant.

The syllables were strange on his tongue, and he had not known what they meant, but as he chanted them out loud, he understood. They spoke of blood and fire, greed and envy, rage and lust and total despair. Dukka chanted in a low undertone and got louder and louder, faster and faster, until he suddenly felt it, a point in the room that radiated corruption and evil so terribly that he could have pointed to it without even opening his eyes. He did and saw nothing, but he knew it was their still by the sickening feeling at the pit of his stomach. A part of the third, an evil spirit, a Demon.

His eyes darted to the page as the brush began to sway back and forth and write in a language he had memorized from the book. The Demon spirit spoke through the paper.

Who are you to summon me? it wrote.

"One who would ask for power from my father's enemy" recited Dukka, strait from the book. The Demons words faded from the page and wrote new words.

What would you give for this power?

"Three gifts I have for you, no more and no less, and three symbols of each for they cannot be touched."

Tell me what you will give, the first and second.

"The first is my faith, which I need no more and the second my knowledge, of which you may need."

The brush wrote harshly, the first I have and the second I can take, what of the third?

Dukka read the words and began to sweat; he had hoped not to come to the third.

"The third is my soul, my alligence in hell, and the end of an innocent life to be paid when I get my share" He finished with a trembling voice as with every word he spoke the brush began to shake more and more violently until the last word, when it suddenly shattered. He flinched and the fowl corruption rushed toward him. There was a sudden stab of cold so chill it hurt and he was knocked to the ground as the candles went out.

Dukka fumbled around in darkness, out of his room and to the bathroom in search of a mirror. He flipped on the switch and looked at himself. His face was still his usual angular face, his hair was still black and long hair, his body still covered in the same lean muscle as Zano's. And his eyes, they were still the same blazing bright blue as... He felt an onset of dread as he looked at his own eyes. They were still the same color and shape, but as Dukka looked at his own eyes, he saw a person he didn't know.

So, what is it YOU want from our deal? whispered a voice in his head that was cold, oily and so painfully wrong that it could only be the demon that Dukka had made a deal with.

Dukka realized now that there was no going back.

"I want the people who took my family to follow me to hell."