Chrysalis

In times of war, or great peril, many things are put aside. Morality, order, law, hierarchy, respect, such things are often cast away in order to ensure the one thing that matters most to a sapient creature: survival.

We are not that way. Our mission is sacrosanct. Our law is woven into the very fibre of our beings. There is no life, without the mission, there is no future, without mission and there will never be a present, without the mission.

Though the world should burn around us, we continue to serve.

- Excerpt from the ‘Dedications of the Nameless’

The nameless one executed the eight-fold genuflection and stepped within the Sanctum of Sleep.

To be embraced by the pure darkness was like being held close by the Colony itself. It was home. Guided by scent alone, she manoeuvred through the narrow and twisted corridors until she found who she was looking for.

The Acolytes, still as a sleeping ant, stood in a loose circle around a dim light sunk into the ground. There, they kept their vigil until the second eight of the day had passed.

The nameless one approached and genuflected once more. The Acolyte to her left, the Acolyte of Shadows, signed subtly, and so she approached.

The Eldest rests, the Acolyte began the ritual greeting.

Eight hours a day, the nameless one replied.

You are welcome

What news of the waking world

difficult. The number of transgressions against the Eight number in the hundreds each and every day. Our ability to snatch the heretics from the battlefield is limited, and thus they escape our wrath and righteous cleansing. They do not sleep,

savagely. This cannot be allowed to stand. Give me the order, and I will hunt down those who spit acid in the Eldest’s

not served by your anger. Put it to one

icy calm that served her so

she signed, but

too few. We will take those we can, and remember those we cannot.

I hear and obey.

suffer and die for lack of

experience luxurious rest and relaxation before this day

This is well.

orders received, the nameless one set out through the dark tunnels once again. Narrow passages and secret pathways that wound throughout the great fortress like insidious tendrils of truth. There was no place she could not reach, and

later, she returned to the Sanctum. Three targets she had been given, and three she had delivered. Those scouts now rested in the cells, their blatant violation of the Eight put to rights. There was satisfaction in that knowledge, a quiet joy that warmed the nameless

to climb to catastrophic levels. Members of the Colony turned away from the law of the Eldest at every turn. It burned in her gut, just as it burned inside

heart of this rage. She was a creature of the shadows.

Acolyte of Rest welcomed her as she entered the grand

separated into eight segments. One portion already stirred as

she waited for her chance to shuffle onto the wheel. She needed this rest, as did they all. Service to the mission was always difficult, but in this