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Ethicca snapped back to reality, the phantom stench of burning flesh and ozone from Echo's memory still clinging to her senses. The frozen, silent throne room bled back into motion with an audible whoosh, like air rushing into a vacuum.

Jimmy's box-head rebooted with a sound like a failing hard drive. He staggered to his feet, shaking his head. "Ay, dios mio. I feel so… violated. Like someone just rummaged through my core programming with greasy, psychic fingers."

This happened before, the thought echoed in Ethicca's mind, a fragment of a dream she couldn't quite grasp. She was about to stand up, to scream, to lash out with the same desperate gambit—but then she remembered. She remembered the deal. Her eyes flickered towards Echo's throne. The Sentinel of Lust gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, a single, elegant gesture that sealed their pact.

Ethicca forced herself to relax, sinking back into her chair. She looked at Jacqui, whose face was a mask of crimson rage, her one remaining fist clenched so tight her knuckles were white. Ethicca placed a hand on her arm, a silent plea for her to stay calm.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The rhythmic, metallic banging drew everyone's attention. It was Jimmy, repeatedly and deliberately banging his screen-face against a nearby pillar. His display was a chaotic mess of glitching advertisements for synth-booze and vintage cat videos before it settled on a single, retro-green, pixelated smiley face.

Moros, the three-faced god-machine, let out a sound like the rustling of dried leaves being crushed. But the laughter died as his head twisted, snapping with a sickening crunch of metal and synth-flesh to reveal his third face. It was a perfect, jet-black doll's mask, its fake eyes glowing with an iridescent, almost oily, golden hue. It tilted its head, a slow, deliberate motion like a predator stretching after a long slumber.

"WARNING. BIO-HAZARD DETECTED," its voice was a cold, synthesized chime, devoid of all inflection. "PURE HUMAN GENOME CONTAMINATED WITH UNKNOWN FOREIGN SUBSTANCE. SUBJECT NOT SUITABLE FOR PROJECT ALPHA. CALCULATED MEASURES SUGGEST IMMEDIATE DISPOSAL OF SUBJECT AND COLLATERAL ASSETS. THE HIEROPHANT HAS NO USE FOR IMPERFECTION."

As soon as it finished speaking, the head snapped back, leaving Moros's central face once more in place. He looked around the hall, his expression one of lazy, reptilian indifference.

"As you heard, the Voice of the Spire has spoken," he hissed, his voice a dead whisper. "Dispose of them. Find a new, untainted subject."

Rose, the Sentinel of Envy, stood from her throne, her crimson hair shimmering like spun blood. "All of that for nothing," she sighed with theatrical disappointment. "But waste not, want not. I can still use them. The vanilla human is a rare treat, and the half-and-half reject has a certain… broken charm. They will fetch a fine price in my establishments in the Red Light District." Her gaze flickered to Jimmy. "As for the box-head, Silas loves his trinkets, and whatever is left, Carcass can consume."

On his throne of meat and metal, the throttle of heavy engines could be heard, and thick, black fumes began to emerge from the exhausts at the back of Carcass's bloated head. His voice was a pure cacophony of mangled sound systems talking at once, a chorus of screams and static. "WE. ARE. HUNGRY. WE. WILL. CONSUME."

Rose winked at him, a gesture of pure, malicious cruelty. Silas, the Magpie of Greed, spasmed in excitement on his throne of scrap, rubbing his six mismatched arms together. "Magnificent! New tech! At last, Magpie, do you see the specimen?!" His voice switched, becoming a high-pitched, feminine squeal as he spoke to himself. "Yes, Silas, yes! A fine addition to our collection!"

Rose clapped her hands together, a sharp, decisive sound. "So it is decided then!" She looked up at Moros, who gave a slow, bored nod. Ella, sitting cross-legged in her pink plush throne, waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, whatever…" Rose glanced at Aurelian, who sat in his perfect, regal posture, not even deigning to acknowledge the proceedings.

"I guess we are in accordance," Rose said, a twisted, malevolent grin on her face. "I will call the guards to escort them to their new… accommodations."

"Wait."

A new voice, melodic and clear, rang out. Everyone's attention snapped towards it. Rose, already turning to leave, stopped dead in her tracks.

It was Echo. She stood with a grace and poise that commanded the room, a stark contrast to the grotesque figures around her. Even Aurelian leaned forward slightly, his blank mask canted in her direction.

"Speak, my child," Moros commanded. "Let us hear your thoughts."

Echo bowed her head respectfully, then began to walk towards the three prisoners. "Since we cannot use them for the Hierophant's grand design," she began, her voice resonating in their minds as much as in the air, "why not use them for our own… entertainment?"

"You piece of malfunctioning, bargain-bin tech!" Rose shrieked from the doorway. "How dare you challenge my decision!"

"SILENCE!" Moros hissed, his head tilting like a serpent ready to spit venom. The command was absolute, and Rose froze, her face a mask of impotent fury. "Let my child speak."

When Echo reached the three, she stopped. With a dramatic flourish, she stretched her hand towards the ceiling, her long white jacket seeming to dissolve, revealing a lining like a star-filled night sky, the particles glistening as if the universe itself was contained within her cloak.

"I suggest we make them fighters," she declared, her voice a powerful, dual-toned harmony. "In the Citadel of Champions!"

For the first time, a genuine, horrifying smile spread across Moros's central face, his blackened, metallic teeth showing. Ella chirped from her throne, "Great idea!" Carcass's engines hummed down. "WE. ARE. NOT. HUNGRY. WE. WILL. WATCH." Silas slumped in his seat, muttering, "Hmmm, I suppose they will be more valuable when fully augmented for battle…" Aurelian, his face still a blank mask, gave a single, curt nod.

Rose stormed back, her movements inhumanly fast, and stood nose-to-nose with Echo. "You think you're clever, don't you?" she whispered, her voice a jealous hiss. She turned to Moros. "If that is the case, I decree that all Sentinels must invest in these rats! Augment them for the Citadel Games!" She pointed a violent, trembling finger at Jacqui and Jimmy. "But this one," she pointed at Ethicca, "even tainted, she is still pure enough. If she survives, she is mine."

Moros's smile widened. "So be it. However," he added, a new, dangerous edge to his voice, "all Sentinels will participate in the games this year. Do not bring shame upon this Church." As he finished speaking, his head slumped downwards as if deactivated. His word was final. The other Sentinels bowed their heads in reverence.

Rose scoffed and stalked away. The others took their leave as a squad of guards in pristine white armor and featureless helms marched in, surrounding the three prisoners.

Echo turned to Ethicca and stretched out her hand. "Do we have a deal, little one?"

Jacqui and Jimmy looked at the scene, their expressions a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

Ethicca stood up and took Echo's hand. Echo's touch was as cold as cryo-fluid, but the grip was firm.

"Yeah," Ethicca said, her voice steady. "We have a deal."

Echo turned to the guards, her voice ringing with newfound authority. "Take our guests to the Citadel. Prepare them. They are the newest contestants for the games."