“So let me get this straight, you have a massive lift all the way into your throne room?”
After a stupidly long ascent, Litvir and his team found themselves standing in front of a pitch black entity, adorned in golden horns and antlers, sitting on top of a throne made from various golden weapons. The walls were overly tall and covered in the skulls of many an alien being, many of them not even identifiable. There seemed to be a couple of doorways either side of the room, sealed shut by golden gates.
“Hm. Telepaths.”
The entity’s voice was rather deep, enough to make the air shudder. It didn’t seem to have visible eyes, but a toothy smile could be seen.
“Hello,” Litvir rather calmly asked. “We are just looking for our friends, we do not mean any harm.”
The being made a clicking, tutting sound. “I am afraid I cannot help you. Your friends now work for me.”
“I assume not willingly…” Litvir sighed. “I very much doubt our friends would willingly join an… entity such as yourself.”
“You are quite correct. I would offer you a chance to work for me, alongside your friends, but there is one problem. You four are powerful telepaths, and I do not like powerful telepaths. Beings such as yourselves do not adhere to my ways of manipulation and control.” The being adjusted its position on the throne. “But I can still make use of you, despite being treacherous mind manipulators.”
“That’s a bit unfair!” Eksi abruptly spoke out. “You’re the one that’s probably manipulated the minds of our friends! There’s no way that someone as honourable as the Dessaron would suddenly give up their duties and work for you willingly! You must have manipulated them!”
The entity leaned forward, quite amused by Eksi’s outburst. “Of course I manipulated them. They are of the average mind. Not too damaged, not too powerful. Somewhere right in the middle. Unfortunately, you four are too far down the telepathic path for me to cleanly manipulate. Your emotions are too well protected for my power to properly seep into.”
“Do you not already have minions to serve you?” Litvir asked. “Surely our friends are less useful to you than the average Voidborn servant? Perhaps you could find others to serve you willingly?”
“Hah,” the being snorted. “Your friends are not a standard servant or anything like that. They make for fine gladiatorial fighters, willing to battle others for my own amusement. Especially my new favourite, the Flamebearer.”
“We could still probably find someone better…” Litvir muttered under his breath. “Is there really no way to remove them from your control?”
The entity paused, then smiled once more. “Now that you mention it, I do have some use of you four creatures. I would love to see you take on my new gladiators. Perhaps you might even beat them, proving yourselves stronger. So here is my offer: if you four can defeat the ones you call the Dessaron, then I shall allow you to untangle them from my psionic webs. If you cannot, then you shall die.”
“That is a very chaot-”
Before Litvir could finish his sentence, the entity snapped his fingers, teleporting the team to different areas of the Voidborn’s castle. With a large smile, it then summoned a large television screen, watching with curiosity as to what these beings would do next.