Angar stormed into the structure, his cybernetics clanking against the ancient stone like the hammer of judgment.

The tiered stone stands surrounding the chamber brimmed with northern scum, about a third draped in brightly colored, cheap off-world garb.

A giant Trey had been painted on the opposite wall from the entrance. Encircling the ceiling of the council chamber, more etchings proclaimed, 'The law of reason to seek unity is necessary, since without it we would have no reason.'

That was followed by 'Knowledge itself is power,' and 'The love of complexity without reductionism makes art; the love of complexity with reductionism makes science.'

A flight of broad stairs descended to the chamber floor, where seven ancient figures, men and women weathered by decades, sat in a semicircle of colossal stone thrones. These would be the Elder Shura.

They cloaked themselves in tattered reflective heater-blankets, worn as robes in a farce of regality. Each head was topped with an oversized rubber ring, the kind used for sealing pipes in ancient machinery, flopping like absurd crowns.

They looked utterly preposterous, oblivious to their own farce, exuding an aura of bloated self-importance, as if they were demigods descended from the sky to bestow the blessing of their presence upon the lucky unworthy, benevolently gracing mere mortals with their Divine glory.

He hated them instantly, with an unyielding passion.

Guards ringed the stands and floor, frozen in rigid stillness, clad in off-world peasant garb masquerading as uniforms, their fists clenched around slags of pyrrhotite wielded like true weaponry, not a mockery.

In the shadows at the rear, behind the stands, stood a middle-aged imperial woman in opulent attire, unarmed save a Psy Crystal bracer. That had to be Paragon Aude Heddle of Auronix Solutions.

"An armed barbarian profanes the hallowed Sangha Majlis!" one of the monkeys bellowed, his screech echoing off the walls.

The central Elder Shura raised a gnarled hand, his veins throbbing like worms beneath almost-translucent skin. "The barbarian may approach, blessed by our gloried and august presence."

The same shrieking herald howled again, this time with spittle flying from his monkey maw. "In their boundless grace, the enlightened and benevolent Elder Shura permit approach, after disarming. All glory to Amaravati!"

Angar drew a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the urge to slaughter all in sight. A guard scurried forward, halting before him with an outstretched hand, its other gripping a hunk of slag.

Temptation whittled away at him to refuse, to get this done with, to unleash Holy wrath. But he had known this would be requested. For now, he'd comply.

He extended his maul. The guard seized the haft, and Angar released it.

The weapon's weight proved far too much, and the head crashed to the stone with a resounding clang, sending sparks flying as the fool staggered back.

Angar pivoted sharply, descending the stairs with deliberate stomps, hundreds of beady monkey eyes tracking him. They were feigning aloofness, but he could smell their unease, knowing they were prey watching a predator walk into their once safe den.

As he neared the semicircle of thrones, the herald screeched again. "The barbarian will halt there!"

He halted. Where he stood didn't matter.

One of the female elders leaned forward, raising her hand, rasping out, "What compels the barbarian to seek the boon of our exalted wisdom?"

Angar inhaled again, holding the breath to steady his raging soul. He yearned to proclaim his ancestry, but it'd be meaningless to these beasts. Instead, he said, "First off, you're all Layfolk of the Empire of the Holy Trinity, bound to speak Standard Imperial.

"The next one to spew that animal garble gets their skull crushed. If I hear it again after, I'll deem it Heretical chants, assume the unholy festers here unchecked, and purge every last one of you in fulfillment of my oath. Understood?"

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Gasps of shock and horror rippled through the stands like someone had cussed during Sunday Mass. The councilors' eyes blazed with disgust and rage, a sight that warmed Angar's heart like the afterglow of a well-used turret's barrel.

He wished fervently that someone would slip, granting him the excuse to feel a monkey skull crushed in his gauntlet.

The central elder raised his hand once more, his words shifting to stilted Imperial. "Clear the Sangha Majlis. Our illustrious guest, Paragon Heddle, may remain."

A ripple of resistance stirred the stands. Muttered grumblings erupted like festering boils, one scum hissing "barbarian filth" under its breath. Guards shifted uneasily, their eyes darting between Angar and the exits, their grips whitening on their faux weapons.

A few lingered defiantly in the aisles, shoulders hunched in mock bravery, until a sharp bark from the herald sent them shuffling out, slinking away like rats from fire.

Aude waited until the chamber emptied, then descended with measured grace, approaching Angar and standing with hands clasped behind her back, perhaps to keep her Psy Crystal out of sight.

She nodded crisply. "God and Empire, Sir Angar. May the Three protect you."

"God and Empire, Paragon Aude," he responded.

"Don't worry about my past ambitions on this planet, Sir," she said earnestly. "When I learned Saint Hidetada is here with you, they ended. I've tried contacting and apologizing. Kindly convey to him that both I and Auronix Solutions stand ready to serve in whatever capacity he requires. As amends, I've remained on-planet to help attain his goals, whatever they may be."

Angar grunted. "I'm glad to hear it. I require these monk...this council to grant me their fief."

Aude's eyes widened in alarm, her composure cracking. "You mean not just an oath of allegiance, but full and total investiture of their lands?"

"Yes," Angar stated. "I despise their form of government, no matter how farcical their elections are. Those needing to be ruled are inept, incapable of deciding who should rule them. As this chamber is only fit to be a cesspit, I shall make it one. None from the north shall command a centimeter of land on my planet."

Aude grimaced, her face twisting in discomfort. "I've got a solid grasp on the overall situation, their cultural practices, and the individual councilors. Negotiating in your stead would be my pleasure, but frankly, you're not handing me much room to maneuver."

"Why aren't these ridiculous creatures speaking for themselves?" asked Angar.

Aude exhaled wearily. "You know firsthand how brutal life here has been, and prior to the System, the dreadful existence of most women. This council is nearly as old as the Holy Empire. Tradition has kept them alive, the population growing, and they're reluctant to change.

"When I learned you were coming," she said, nodding toward the councilors, "I warned them a Crusader wouldn't have the patience and forbearance I've demonstrated. Even a mere Knight-Adept, even with the auto-blasters I gifted them, would kill scores before their soldiers eventually overwhelmed you."

She shrugged. "I advised that they allow me to handle the discussion, but upon discovering you hail from this very planet, they turned down my suggestion. It appears they've reconsidered."

Angar nodded curtly. "I've advanced in rank, Aude. I don't believe you're as familiar with the situation as you assume. The Steadfast's arrival on this planet was a betrayal writ large. The brightest from among the crew, half a million cowards, bolted for the north pole in every shuttle and exploration craft, stripping the ship of everything useful to them."

Angar's blood boiled, a righteous fury igniting in his veins. "A hundred million souls left the Sol System, swelling to a hundred fifty in voyage, only to be abandoned to die. Since then, the northern population exploded from half a million to five, while the south withered from a hundred fifty million to under one, most dying that first year.'"

He wheeled on the council, his gaze sweeping each in turn. "Saint Hidetada advised against me butchering these northern wretches, but my ancestors cry out for vengeance, and my heart yearns for it. For the sake of my eternal soul, tell these councilors to take the only deal I'll offer that leaves them breathing, and that's handing me this fief."

All the elders began raising their hands, what they always seemed to do before speaking. Angar wouldn't hear their mewling.

His mind conjured visions of unleashing Ground Current, targeting the central monkey. Every throne in the semicircle would fall within range of Geomagnetic Phenomena, its forks chaining their doom. He craved to watch lightning sear them, smoke rising from charred husks like incense at an altar.

He wanted to. But he wouldn't. At least not yet.

But something within him shattered, a dam bursting in his soul, and the seven councilors abruptly convulsed in their thrones.

Their bodies jerked violently, eyes bulged like bursting orbs, veins swelling grotesquely under ashen skin, jaws locking in voiceless agony as tremors ripped through them.

No spark or arc was visible, but one by one they collapsed forward, tendrils of pungent smoke coiling from nostrils and ears, their forms reduced to twitching, lifeless shells slumping against unyielding stone, leaving the chamber reeking of scorched hair and smoldering flesh.

Aude gasped, her voice like a strangled prayer. "By the blessed Mother, that was Electrosynapticism! Only the Grays can manifest that psychic power!" She spun toward Angar, her eyes wide with both awe and dread.

For what felt like eons, Angar had strained to manifest a power, sensing it lurking just beyond grasp. He had felt it there, waiting to be used, so close but always slipping away, like a word on the tip of his tongue, almost recalling it but unable to, a forgotten litany on the edge of recitation.

It had finally heeded his unspoken desire, obeying with a fury.

"It wasn't my intention to slay them," stated Angar, as much for Theosis as Aude. "I swear, before God, on my immortal soul, that was an accident. It just happened."

Still, Divine Theosis sent words to his eyes.

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