1024 YEARS EARLIER…

It was swelteringly hot in the carriage.

Yoslof was usually a temperate planet, hence why Her Ladyship had decided to build her estate there, but there had been something of a heat wave in recent months. That wasn't an issue in the castle, of course, but it could get to be an issue on these sorts of outings -- and with the birthday coming up soon, these sorts of outings had been getting more frequent. It was getting to be a little bit of a problem.

Not that you could tell from looking at the two guards in the carriage. These Musca-Pugnants -- specially modified to suit Her Ladyship's tastes and requirements -- had highly effective internal cooling systems. The two burly men sat on either side of the exit, visors of carapace sprouting from the tops of their heads and covering their eyes, their transparent wings tucked into the hollows of their backs.

Edgar dabbed at his face with a handkerchief.

To put it simply, Edgar was beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. His hair was white as snow and soft as a cloud, while his blue eyes glittered with the allure of sapphires -- his features were so delicate they seemed like they'd shatter at the lightest touch. Clad in a fluffy white cloak with a blue butterfly pin, with a soft and serene smile on his lips, Edgar almost looked more like a doll than a person.

This wasn't necessarily something to be proud of. It wasn't like he'd done something to become beautiful. The fact that he would look like this had been determined long before he had been 'born' -- if you could even call it that. He had been commissioned to be beautiful, cultivated in an artificial womb to be beautiful, modified upon birth to be beautiful.

That had been the entire point of the Trilogy Blue, after all. Beautiful toys to celebrate the beautiful friendship between Gene Nobles.

It wasn't necessarily something to lament either, though. It was just the way things had turned out, and the way things were. Water flowed downstream, wind blew, fire was hot, and ice was cold. That was simply the shape of this world. Lamentation was fantasy.

The carriage came to a halt -- and a moment later, another Cogitant poked her head through the curtain. It was one of the younger attendants -- Jana, thirteen years old, a recent addition to Her Ladyship's entourage. Normally, young Jana was thought of as a ray of sunshine in the castle, her smile brightening up the monotonous days. Now, though, on an occasion like this? Her face had turned a sickly pale, her mouth a wobbly line.

It made sense. This was the first time she'd been brought along for a human hunt. She'd get used to it before long, though, and that bright smile would return.

"Lord Edgar," the young girl said, voice shaky even as she tried to maintain the decorum of her station. "I-It's over. Elizabeth awaits."

"Of course," Edgar said, following her out of the carriage.

Yoslof truly was a beautiful planet.

The castle of the planet's owner was surrounded by stretching fields of vibrant green grass, and the sky above was a brilliant blue, with barely a cloud to be seen. No matter where you went for miles around, the castle could be seen, all spires and white stone -- stretching up towards that gorgeous sky like a monument to civilization itself. There were no other buildings on Yoslof outside of the castle complex, after all. The beauty of the planet was untarnished by man.

Well, normally it was untarnished by man. Today, their red blood painted the blades of grass.

The young woman sat still upon a throne of life-sculpted bone. She wore an intricate and extravagantly gothic dress of interweaving red and black, woven from fly-silk -- one of her specialities. The silhouette of the garment was spread out by a wide petticoat beneath, solidly formed from countless overlapping sharp teeth, latching onto the ground whenever she stopped to keep the dress still. At first glance, it might have looked like she was wearing a hairband as well, but no -- it was a long line of huge ruby-coloured flies, perched atop her head in perfect synchronicity and perpetual hibernation.

Long, blonde curls pooled down her shoulders -- no, not just blonde, but golden, nearly sparkling in the sunlight. If Edgar's serenity gave off the impression of a doll, then Her Ladyship's very form did the same for her. She'd shaped her limbs to resemble the joints of one, after all. Freckles appeared and disappeared from the space above her nose at regular intervals, like twinkling stars. Every aspect of her appearance was exact and deliberate, down to the tips of her fingernails, with only one exception.

Her eyes. Those orange eyes held a trembling, uncertain light as they looked straight ahead, betraying an anxiety reflected nowhere else. They flicked up to look directly at Edgar as he approached.

"Edgar," the youngest Gene Noble said -- and her voice held that same slight tremble.

Her Noble Precociousness

ELIZABETH

THE LADY OF FLIES

Reboot of Theophano

"It's done," she said, her eyes flicking back to their original position.

Edgar followed her gaze. Indeed, as she said, it was done. Each and every one of the supposed traitors -- members of Elizabeth's personal guard -- had been brought down by the pursuer-beasts. The hippo-sized hounds gnawed at the bodies of the Musca-Pugnants, injecting the fossilizing agent through their teeth, the skin of their victims hardening and turning grey from the puncture points outwards.

The former guards didn't even have the energy to scream anymore as their skin turned to stone. Instead, a low chorus of groaning poured out over the fields. A cool wind blew through, rustling the grass even as blood dripped from the blades. It was actually a fairly peaceful scene.

Servants from Elizabeth's entourage, clad in compound-eyed masks, were already taking pictures and videographs of these former soldier's miserable fates. These would be distributed among the castle's servants to discourage further rebellion. They already had plenty such material, though.

Elizabeth patted her lap lightly -- and Jana dutifully hopped up to take a seat. As she addressed Edgar, Elizabeth hugged the young girl and rested her chin on her head. Elizabeth used to have a fondness for stuffed animals after events like these, but these days she required the warmth of a living thing to feel assured.

"How long will it take them to die?" Elizabeth asked coldly.

Edgar calmly provided the same answer he'd given countless times before. "By this time tomorrow, they will expire, my Lady. It will take about that long for the petrification to reach the brain-stem. Until then, it will be excruciating."

Elizabeth nodded vaguely, running a hand through Jana's hair as she filed through her thoughts. From what Edgar understood, many Gene Nobles used something similar to a Cogitant's Archive to manage their thinking. Hand motions were a common mnemonic for such mental constructs. Edgar wondered what Elizabeth was seeing in her mind's eye when she was brushing Jana's hair like that. Perhaps she was rifling through a folder. Perhaps she was digging through an open stomach.

"Make sure information on that is included with the materials," Elizabeth finally said. "I want everyone to fully appreciate the consequences of… this kind of thing. Everyone. Fully."

These soldiers had been caught conducting unauthorized communications with someone off-world, most likely another Gene Noble. That kind of espionage was not something Elizabeth could suffer -- especially not at this time of the year.

"My birthday's coming up," Elizabeth looked at Edgar again, her voice full of dread. "Do you remember, Edgar?"

Edgar smiled. "Of course, my Lady. Preparations for the reception are well underway. Members of the Nerve Senate have sent their well wishes and the guests have sent across their transit schedules. We've developed an even more thorough screening process for the gifts, so rest assured. Victoria won't be able to attend on the day, so she will be arriving shortly to break bread with you."

That name finally brought a faint smile to Elizabeth's lips.

"Gosh, that Victoria!" she said excitedly, hugging Jana tighter. "She'll show up in that same ugly armour of hers, I'm sure, but I swear I was wearing this same dress last time she visited. I've been thinking about this new species of weaver-fly recently, they do the most interesting patterns -- I'm sure I could breed enough to make something exciting before she arrives. If I make a new dress, do you want my old one, Jana?"

She looked down at Jana, who was starting to look somewhat uncomfortable in the inexorable grip of a Gene Noble. Edgar couldn't blame her. It wasn't uncommon for Nobility to misjudge the strength of their current form and accidentally break their servants. They were fortunate enough that Elizabeth was one of the Gene Nobles that preferred a pseudo-human form most of the time.

"It's a little…" Jana gasped. "M-My Lady, I can't…"

"Oh!" Elizabeth relaxed her grip, allowing Jana to take a deep breath. "Oh Eve, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. You can definitely have my old dress now. Accept it and forgive me, okay?"

"It's a little big for me, My Lady…" Jana looked away.

"That's okay!" Elizabeth smiled benevolently. "We can get it resized. I haven't shown you the weavery yet, have I? I really think it's something interesting, the way we can direct the flies remotely, all the girls there agree. We'll go get it resized right now. You'll forgive me?"

There was an edge to Elizabeth's smile, an edge to Elizabeth's voice, but both the source and the direction of it were unclear. It was as if a certain formless desperation lurked within her, leaking out just a tiny bit at all times. Edgar supposed it only made sense, given the circumstances of her creation.

Jana nodded, that bright smile already back on her face. She learned quickly. That was good. She'd last much longer than the last couple.

"I'm going to head back to the castle with the others, Edgar," Elizabeth said cheerfully, taking Jana by the hand as she stood up. "How about you? Are you up for flying?"

"It's such a lovely morning," Edgar replied. "I think I'll walk back, if you don't mind."

"Oh, you're such a coward," Elizabeth teased, sticking out her tongue. "I'll see you in a bit, then. Say bye-bye, Jana!"

Jana glanced to the side uncomfortably. She was very much not at the age when one said such things, but -- especially today -- it was a bad idea not to indulge Her Ladyship.

"Bye-bye…" she mumbled.

Edgar waved to the group as they got back into their carriages and vehicles. The more mechanical ones trundled away on wheels and treads and legs, while the living vehicles that Elizabeth had personally cultivated flew off with thin vibrating wings. Before long, he was all alone on the field. His sapphire gaze flicked over to the twitching bodies all around him.

As though he were out for a casual stroll, Edgar stepped towards the nearest body and looked down into his eyes. This had been the previous captain of the guard. Before the human hunt had been enacted, Elizabeth had had Edgar nominate a replacement. Now, then, this man was nobody at all.

Their eyes met. Edgar wasn't familiar with the exact effects of the petrifying agent, but they seemed to be quite painful. Without blinking, he placed his boot atop the man's throat -- and pressed down until he heard the crunch of confirmation. From there, he did the same with each person on the ground, one by one.

Then, he dusted off his hands, and -- as he'd said -- started walking home.

AETHERAL SPACE 0.1

"Great Signs and Wonders"

Elizabeth, the Lady of Flies, had been gripped by a great and omnipresent terror ever since she came into existence. This wasn't mere paranoia, however. It had to do with the circumstances of her creation.

Reproduction was not especially common for Gene Nobles. By edict of Lord Director Eve, only several hundred members of the Nobility were permitted to exist at any one time, and none dared to go against It's command. Therefore, in order to create a true new life -- mere servants didn't count -- a Gene Noble generally had to surrender its own.

They called it 'rebooting' -- a process in which the Noble concentrated their consciousness to a single point, shredded it to almost nothing, and then allowed it to grow back from there. Essentially, an entirely new personality -- an entirely new person -- would come to inhabit the shell of the sacrificed Noble. It wasn't as if they were stuck looking like the old Noble, either. The shells of the Nobility were as changeable as water. They could become unrecognisable on the mildest whim.

This wasn't always a voluntary process.

Elizabeth's predecessor, Theophano -- the Lord of Flies -- had been found guilty of perverting the processes of the Nerve Senate, using blackmail and bribery to steer the course of law. As such, he had been sentenced to a mandatory reboot -- the Gene Noble equivalent of an execution. They were just as reluctant to reduce their numbers as they were to increase them.

It wasn't as if Theophano had a choice in the matter. If he refused the Nerve Senate's decree, he would be facing the entire galaxy as an enemy. Still, though, he had gone to his death with bitterness -- and as a final spit into the future, he'd arranged countless plots and schemes in the weeks before his reboot. All manner of conspiracies, specifically designed to torment his successor.

Theophano's creativity was to be applauded, if nothing else.

There had been assassins hidden in the walls, directed to observe which servants Elizabeth liked best and kill them in their sleep. A redirected meteor had obliterated one of her inherited estates right as she'd set off for a trip to Azum, framed perfectly so she could witness the destruction. They'd even found some of Theophano's leftover flies lurking in the weavery -- lacing Elizabeth's clothes with agents that induced deathly phobias of common things like air and stone. That condition had been cured before long, but it had still been a difficult few days.

And it always got worse the closer to Elizabeth's birthday. Not just the sabotages themselves, but Elizabeth's fear of them. She was afraid of her own shadow, and for good reason -- for her shadow was torturing her from beyond the grave.

Even if Theophano's plots had run dry after so many years, the damage was long since done. Elizabeth would continue to find traitors around her until the end of time.

That was fine, though. Elizabeth's paranoia followed a predictable rise and fall based on the time of year. It wasn't that bad. If it could be taken into account, it could be maneuvered around. Harmony was the most important thing -- that, and happiness.

Edgar ran a hand along the wall as he walked through the castle hallway, appreciating the unique texture against his fingers. All of the walls were coated with layers of layers of petrified flies, crammed together -- their protruding limbs and wings forming an uneven surface. It had only been shortly after Edgar had arrived here as a child -- another birthday gift for Elizabeth -- that Her Ladyship had embarked upon the project. They'd spent many months working on these walls together.

The results were satisfactory.

He noted the gaps in security as he made his way to the castle's entrance hall. With that last human hunt, Elizabeth had left quite a bit of empty space in their guard roster. He'd have to speak with Victoria's Cogitant aid and request a transfer of personnel -- or at least ask Elizabeth to commission some replacement Pugnants.

The castle's staff had all gathered in the entrance hall to welcome their honoured guest. The chamber was long, lined with decorative pillars -- and moving images swam along the walls, depictions of Yoslof's picturesque landscapes formed from crawling insects. Elizabeth stood at the top of the stairs that led into the castle proper, while the rest of the servants formed a corridor of flesh to welcome the visiting procession.

Edgar, for his part, stood beside Elizabeth -- just one step behind. He gave a curt nod to Jana below.

"Hark!" cried Jana, with all the decorum she could muster. "Announcing the arrival of Her Ladyship, the honourable Gene Noble Victoria! Hark, Victoria!"

"Hark, Victoria!" came a chorus from the servants as they all kneeled.

Only then did the great doors finally open.

Her Noble Proficiency

VICTORIA

THE CHITIN KNIGHT

Reboot of Mary

Elizabeth and her oldest friend couldn't have been more different in appearance. While Elizabeth could possibly be mistaken for a normal human from a distance, the same could not be said for Victoria. She towered at eleven feet tall, her thin and spindly body covered in layers of flexible carapace that formed a lean and feminine silhouette, the flesh visible beneath a jet black. The shape of her head -- or perhaps helmet, it was difficult to tell -- evoked that of an ant, twin antenna twitching with inhuman senses as she strode gracefully through the room. A torrent of thick white hair cascaded from the back of her head, its length adjusting with each step so that it never touched the floor.

A long rapier sculpted from her own flesh hung from Victoria's hip, but you wouldn't need to see that to know she was a swordswoman. It was in her bearing, the way she walked, the way she breathed. As the most skilled with the sword among all Gene Nobles, it radiated out from every aspect of her being.

This was far from Victoria's first visit, and the Chitin Knight was nothing if not courteous -- so, as she approached, she adjusted her own height to a more modest seven foot. That way, her host could at least look her in the eye. Even then, though, she towered over her own guards -- Pugnants clad in similar carapace armour, holding hefty halberds -- but, for Gene Nobles, most guards were decorative anyway.

"Elizabeth," Victoria's voice vibrated out of various vents across her body. "Another year passes, yet your radiance is unchanged."

Elizabeth smiled shyly. "How go the war-games?" she asked.

Victoria sighed. "Too well. Few remain at the level that can challenge me. Honourable Otrera alone exceeds, and yet will not indulge. That one will accept no substitute for real combat."

Just because Gene Nobles weren't allowed to kill each other, that didn't mean they didn't come into conflict. Elizabeth's existence alone was proof of that. When two Gene Nobles found themselves at an impasse, the most respectful course of action would be to conduct a war-game -- a proxy battle between armies of the Gene Noble's creations, with compromise on the line.

Sometimes, the Nobles themselves would even fight on the front-lines, although none among the armies would dare strike them down -- if they were ever even able to. It was essentially no different than playing war with figurines on a tabletop, but it eased the boredom all the same. Once death was defeated, boredom was the only remaining enemy.

"You don't wish to speak about such brutal things, though," Victoria reached out, ruffling Elizabeth's hair. "Come. Let us discuss matters of beauty."

Victoria was long since familiar with the sights of Elizabeth's castle, but the Lady of Flies had come up with some new creations since the Chittin Knight's last visit, and she took great pleasure in showing them off to the other Gene Noble.

Great bug-beasts that produced and dispensed Decimatus toxins from within their own bodies, singing butterflies that harmonized with the wind -- even concepts for a gargantuan insect that could fly through the skies, carrying guests within its extravagant and hollow innards like a yacht. Like most Nobles, Elizabeth had a preferred aesthetic, but the range of concepts contained within it were truly eclectic.

As the two Nobles made their way from one genetic wonder to another, Edgar dutifully followed after them, his practiced smile still on his face. It was unlikely that Elizabeth would call upon him while she had an equal to engage with, but -- as her second-in-command -- it was proper for him to remain by her side. It was only once day had long since faded into night that she dismissed him for the evening, as she and Victoria made their way to a sitting room to continue their discussions until daybreak. For a Gene Noble, sleep was merely a suggestion. They had better forms of rejuvenation.

Once Victoria was certain that Edgar had retired for the night, and that she and Elizabeth were alone, she began.

"Is anyone listening?" Victoria asked, her voice low.

Elizabeth frowned. "Listening?"

"Can anyone hear us here? In this room, I mean."

Elizabeth shook her head as she reached under her seat with stretching arms. "No," she said casually -- an ease of mood in stark contrast to her episodes of paranoia.

Victoria leaned forward.

"Did you hear?" she asked quietly, returning to her preferred height as she hunched over on a massive chair, elbows resting on her knees.

Elizabeth looked up from the bag of candies she'd pulled out and started eating from. A red gummy squirmed fearfully between her fingers. "Hear what?" she asked, before popping it into her mouth and chewing.

The word Victoria said next was like a funeral bell.

"Olga."

The question had been pointless. There was no way that Elizabeth had not heard. Even Edgar had heard. The assassination of a Gene Noble was no small matter.

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What's… to hear? She's dead, isn't she?"

"Not dead. Killed. Those Umbrant things threw her into a star and burned her into nothing… like she was a thing that could be burnt so easily."

"I know," Elizabeth mumbled, popping a blue gummy into her mouth, then a green one, as if they were a cure for her unease. "Why do we need to talk about this, though? It's all taken care of. The Lord Director is doing a recall and Athaliah is getting rebooted. That's the end of it. There's no need to keep talking about it."

"Zarakhel was part of it," Victoria said gravely.

Elizabeth's hand stopped, a whimpering pink gummy frozen inches from her mouth. Slowly, she lowered her hand into the bag.

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head. "No, it was those defective Umbrants who did it. Trilogy Blue are all Cogitants. That doesn't make any sense."

"The Umbrants did it," Victoria nodded. "But that Zarakhel was part of it, too. The Blind Man, they're calling him. I've got reliable intelligence… and that madman's face isn't exactly hard to miss."

Edgar had two brothers, in a manner of speaking, although he had never met either of them. At the very least, they had been grown in the same vat, developed from the same template. If not for the inevitable rigors of life, they would be identical.

Trilogy Blue, the custom triplets had been called -- a rare joint commission between three Gene Nobles: Elizabeth, Victoria, and Margrethe. Three Cogitants were grown -- Cogitants of high-grade aesthetics and utility, and each was sent to one of the collaborating Nobles as a sign of their enduring camaraderie. Essentially, they were a friendship bracelet.

It hadn't worked very well. Victoria's Vitoni had passed away in an overly enthusiastic war-game two years back, Margrethe had drifted away from the group naturally -- and Zarakhel had gone mad, tried to kill his owner, then fled into the night once he'd failed. If you believed the stories, he'd even clawed his eyes out of his own skull, driven by sheer hatred of the ones who had given him those sapphire pupils. It wasn't especially surprising that the man who had been involved with a failed assassination was now involved with a successful one.

Elizabeth gripped the bag tight. "So what? Tell the people dealing with the situation, don't tell me. What am I supposed to do about it?"

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Victoria leaned in closer, as if that would stop anyone from overhearing. "I was fond of Vitoni. Very fond. It was nice to look at, and it did its work well. But… you don't think there might be some predisposition here? Some shared defect within Trilogy Blue? If Vitoni hadn't died when it did, perhaps I'd be the one getting thrown into a star. I worry about you, Elizabeth. I worry about you, alone with that thing."

Elizabeth's eyes widened -- two more rows sprouting on her cheeks to widen sympathetically -- as she looked up at Victoria. "Are you talking about Edgar?"

Victoria nodded.

For a long moment, Elizabeth was silent and still -- but then she shook her head wildly, as if to banish the intrusive thoughts from her brains. "No," she said hurriedly. "No, I don't -- that's nonsense. What are you even… that's not even based on anything, it's just -- what, one went weird, so the other two must be broken too? What are you even wanting me to do?"

"I think you should put it down," Victoria said calmly.

There was a long silence as Elizabeth tried to figure out if her friend was joking. Once she realized the Chittin Knight was quite serious, though, her response was emphatic.

"No!" Elizabeth threw her hands up. "I like Edgar! Edgar's my friend!"

"You shouldn't stay cooped up alone like this so much, Lizzie…" Victoria sighed. "You and I are friends. Edgar is furniture. If it means that much to you, I'll get you a new one, but get rid of this one… just to be safe, okay?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath through her nose and shook her head. "No," she muttered. "No, no, I don't want to."

Victoria put her long, spindly hands on the younger Noble's shoulders. "It might not even be a defect, Lizzie. Think about it. A trap years in the making, only triggering once the target looks away… that doesn't sound like him to you? It doesn't sound like Theophano?"

Elizabeth paled at the mere mention of her flesh's former occupant.

If it had been anyone else, such a card would have worked immediately on Elizabeth. She'd have had another human hunt organized by the end of the hour -- or, if the terror struck her particularly hard, the target of her fear would never even wake up again. For anyone else… but, it seemed, not for Edgar.

When she shook her head this time, it was firm, like she was breaking free from some invisible shell.

"No," Elizabeth said -- and this time the word held finality.

Edgar frowned.

Victoria did not stay long after that conversation. The atmosphere had curdled after the argument, and the Chittin Knight had a busy schedule even outside of that. Before the sun even rose again, her great bioship -- the Titanomyrma -- had carved a crimson trail through the night sky as it left Yoslof.

It was shortly after that that Edgar heard the door to his bedroom creak open.

This wasn't an uncommon thing, for Her Ladyship to seek him out during sleeping hours, when the terrors struck her especially hard. As the weight on the bed shifted, as warmth radiated behind him, as shallow breathing joined his own, Edgar did not react. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady.

Most people watching would think he was asleep. He was not.

"Edgar," Elizabeth whispered, barely audible, her faint voice accompanied by a just-as-faint buzz. "Can you hear me?"

Edgar said nothing… and for a few moments, neither did Elizabeth. That didn't last long, though. On these occasions, it was like the words forced themselves out of her throat -- or maybe throats. It was difficult for Elizabeth to maintain a human form when she was in one of these moods. The bulk that loomed behind Edgar right now was a thing of many hands and many eyes and many mouths.

"You're the only one, Edgar," she went on, a quiet frenzy in her voice. "You're the only one. I knew it ever since I first laid eyes on you. Victoria doesn't get it. I'm sorry. You want to go to sleep. Just ignore me. Are you asleep?"

Still, Edgar said nothing. Elizabeth's rambling went on, compulsive, stumbling over her own words.

"I think Victoria wants to hurt me," she sobbed to her silent diary. "Or maybe she's already hurt me… or maybe I don't know what I'm talking about, and -- and I'm awful even for thinking about that. I don't even know. I'm so messed up. Don't look at me."

Edgar remained silent. Elizabeth did not.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she breathed desperately. "You don't want to hear all of this. It's not your… you must think I'm so annoying, I'm so… that thing this morning… I shouldn't have done that. Everyone hates me, I can tell. Do you hate me? No… no, you can't… you're the only one."

A long, rattling sigh trailed throughout the room

"You're the only one, Edgar," Elizabeth whispered. "You're the only one that's not allowed to betray me. Everyone else can hate me but you. If you ever betrayed me, I would kill myself."

They lay there in silence, save for the sound of Elizabeth's chattering teeth, until the weight behind Edgar shifted just the slightest bit closer.

"You're so warm," she murmured.

Five Days Later…

"So," asked Enden Los, another Cogitant aide, swirling sapphire wine in his glass. "How many of these have you been to?"

"All but the first two," Edgar replied, sipping his own drink.

The birthday celebration of a Gene Noble was no small affair. A grand space had been laid out across the fields outside the castle, filled with brightly coloured tents and treat-laden tables and gene-wrought curiosities to entertain the guests. All in all, three-hundred and seventy-three acts were to be marched out -- one by one -- to provide an amusing background buzz to the revelry of the Gene Nobility.

Mermaids swam in a coordinated waltz through huge tanks of water. A many-limbed man juggled his tiny siblings with his feet. A guffawing clown slowly pulled his colourful innards out through his mouth. Music poured from the open throat of a massive toad. A hairless panting bear danced, and danced, and danced.

On occasion, such wonders would even draw the attention of the Gene Nobles for a second or two. A nod of satisfaction, or even momentary applause. For some who had been brought here, that alone was enough to bring meaning to their lives.

The gifts weren't anything to scoff at, either. While only a select number of the Nobility had actually come to the party in person, the majority of the population had sent gifts for the youngest of their species. It had been quite exhausting screening them to such a degree that Elizabeth felt comfortable in their presence, but they had managed it.

From the Maven in Red, they had received custom spider-like automatica, encrusted with bio-rubies and bearing human skulls as headpieces. From the Chitin Knight, a thin ceremonial sword made from her namesake -- perhaps a peace offering after her argument with Elizabeth. From mighty Otrera, a standing exoskeleton, an example of utmost durability with which to fortify one's own body.

Even minor members of the Nerve Senate had come together and sent across a more mundane gift -- a new star-yacht, the Zeilan Morhan.

And more, and more, and more…

It wasn't just Gene Nobles in attendance, either. The fields were full of new faces like Enden Los, members of other Gene Noble households. While Los' master -- Ilancueitl the Shining Mother -- had been unable to attend in person, she'd sent Los to pass on her well wishes in her place. In that way, he wasn't dissimilar to a postcard.

Probably there was a sense of relief to it all. With their owners fully engaged with each other, the humans had to watch their steps just a little less carefully -- save for the servants of Alexandra, who maintained a fearful tension behind their eyes even as they ate and drank and laughed and danced.

"You've basically been with Elizabeth since the start, then," Los noted, looking across the field at the Nobility's table. He leaned across a little. "I've heard she's hard work."

Los would not be alive long. Edgar could tell that already. He spoke far too freely, not so far away from creatures that could hear with more than just ears. Maybe Ilancueitl was more forgiving about such things.

"Hard work is the point of being alive, isn't it?" Edgar replied placidly. "We serve at the pleasure of divinities. We shouldn't expect anything less."

That reply seemed to sour Los' mood. Perhaps he'd been hoping to find a fellow aide he could share his gripes with. Before long, he wandered off to gossip with some Pugnant guards, leaving Edgar alone to watch over the celebration.

Everything was going well. He'd spent quite some time preparing these festivities. People were happy, and people were friendly. Happiness and harmony. Those were the most important things in the world.

"I have to say, Elizabeth," gurgled Juana, wiggling atop her cushion. "You've outdone yourself this year. Outdone, outdone, outdone, yes!"

Her Noble Peculiarity

JUANA

BARONESS OF UNSHAPEN

Reboot of Eleanor

Unlike Elizabeth, Juana's chosen form couldn't have been further from human. She was a bright pink organism with the vague shape of a sea-slug, carried atop a large and luxurious pillow by a four-armed servitor. Most Gene Nobles had a preferred 'default' shape they generally returned to, but Juana went through forms like she was trying on outfits. It was quite possible she'd have found a new one by the time the party ended.

Elizabeth nodded demurely, sitting on a throne at the centre of the circular gathering. The entire banquet was centered upon this ring of five -- the seats of the Gene Nobles. They were at the very center of the world, after all.

Juana squirmed over to face another guest. "You agree, don't you, dear little one? Such food, such drink, such fun, such… mm! Atmosphere! I smell atmosphere, all around."

"Uh-huh," Juana's new target replied, her voice flat.

Her Noble Inclemency

ALEXANDRA

THE GROTESQUERIE PRINCESS

Reboot of Boudica

Alexandra was the picture of boredom -- the boredom of a god. Like Elizabeth, she preferred a human form: blonde hair retracted to a short length and dull pink eyes that scanned the party like a machine. She rested the knuckles of her right hand against her chin as she observed the celebration -- her left hand held a pheromone sphere that she idly sniffed at. Behind her, one of her servants -- her own mirror image -- shivered, dreading the moment when that boredom would abate.

Usually, as a student of the Maven in Red, Alexandra would only come to occasions like this by his side. The Maven had been far too close to Theophano, however, and as such had not been invited. Ideally, Elizabeth would have preferred not to invite Alexandra either, but the Grotesquerie Princess' territory was not that far away. To snub her would be an unacceptable insult, and the last thing Elizabeth wanted was to create more enemies for herself.

Alexandra's eyes fixed on the mermaids in their tank for a moment. "Pedestrian," she muttered, her voice dark. "Put something hungry in there with them. Otherwise, what's the point?"

"What's that, dearie?" asked the Noble next to her, in the manner of a kindly grandmother.

Her Noble Pioneering

ZENOBIA

SHE OF THE DEEP

Reboot of Cleopatra

Perpetually clad in a massive biomechanical diving suit, Zenobia's elderly trembling voice could not have been more of a contrast to her powerful frame. Sitting in a chair far too small for her, the hulking Zenobia looked down at the comparatively diminutive Alexandra.

"This is a party," Zenobia scolded. "You are a guest. Don't you think you should appreciate the art as it is, hm?"

Behind Alexandra, her servant flinched as if she were the one who'd been reprimanded. Alexandra herself opened her mouth to snap something back at the larger Noble -- but before an argument could spark, a bloodcurdling howl echoed across the fields.

His Noble Beastliness

AZCAXOCHTZIN

KING OF WILD LIVING THINGS

Reboot of Kʼabel

Some Gene Nobles went even further than Juana when it came to abandoning the shape of humanity. Azcaxochtzin had even thrown away the notion of human language -- and why not? Anyone who mattered could understand him anyway.

Like Zenobia, he loomed -- a spindly arachnid of black bone and coarse fur, with a head like a massive wolf protruding from the middle of the mass of twitching legs. A tongue too large for his head lolled from his mouth, and smoke drifted up from where his saliva burnt at the grass.

Whatever Azcaxochtzin had said, it seemed to have worked. While Alexandra crossed her arms, glaring straight ahead, Zenobia returned to her usual chatty self - gossiping with Juana about how her Living City project was going. The tension that had been tightening Elizabeth's expression abated, and a little smile returned to her lips.

Boredom truly was the greatest enemy of the Gene Nobles.

That was why they gathered like this, even when they couldn't be further apart in psychology and physiology. Each of them might as well have been their own species, but that was precisely where their loneliness came from -- and besides, Nobles that were alone too long tended to get strange ideas in their heads about the 'higher mysteries'. That was how you ended up like Ranavalona, sailing into the abyss in search of aliens.

Edgar exchanged a glance with one of Zenobia's mermaids as he strolled through the party. How sapient were they, he wondered? Had Zenobia just modified some humans to make them, or were they custom organisms that knew nothing but their underwater dance? If the fact that it would live inside that same tank until it died bothered the mermaid any, it didn't show it. Instead, it just did a flip.

Things would be wrapping up soon.

Elizabeth didn't like drawn out parties. The most she could manage was about five hours before her social battery drained to the utmost -- and dealing with these clashing personalities would only reduce that further. No happiness, no harmony. As that thought crossed Edgar's mind, as he completed his third circuit of the party floor…

"Hey," said Alexandra. "You. Come here for a sec."

Edgar looked up, but he wasn't the one who'd been called. Young Jana had been taking a drink to Elizabeth -- and she'd inadvertently crossed the Grotesquerie Princess' line of vision, attracting her attention. Her mouth opening and closing silently like a goldfish, Jana looked towards her master for rescue -- but Elizabeth was chatting away with Zenobia about something. She hadn't even noticed.

Alexandra's frown deepened. "Come here, I said. Just for a sec."

It wasn't as if Jana had the right to refuse a Gene Noble, no matter whose household she was a part of. Her fists clenched, her face pale, she marched over towards Alexandra like a ghost was pushing her onwards. Her blue eyes flicked over to the drink she was holding -- maybe she thought that was what Alexandra wanted.

"My Lady?" Jana asked, her voice hoarse as she reached the Princess' seat.

Alexandra's eyes flicked up and down, scanning the young Cogitant. There wasn't the slightest gleam of passion in those dull pink orbs. Edgar suspected that Alexandra had modified her body not to display any emotion beyond mild annoyance, but he couldn't say for sure.

"Come closer," Alexandra said, monotone, beckoning the girl with a finger.

"Your Ladyship… I really need to…"

"Closer." Alexandra's tone did not permit argument.

Jana only took a single tiny step forward before opening her mouth again.

"My --"

Alexandra punctured the girl's forehead with her index finger.

Once their bodies were directly interfacing like that, it was very easy to make adjustments. With a sound like a popping balloon, Jana's body fell apart into a sort of pink slime, which quickly curdled into a head-sized ball of rippling flesh. 'Death' probably wasn't the right word to use, but Jana's consciousness certainly terminated instantly. After wiping her bloody finger on the arm of her chair, Alexandra reached down, plucking the quivering ball from the grass and kneading it in her hands like putty.

It was only at the pop that Elizabeth had realized something was going on, and now she stared at the busy Alexandra in disbelief.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

Alexandra didn't even look at her as she continued to work the clay in her hands. "I have an idea for something like human fireworks," she explained calmly. "Like, how to get it working with just acid and gases within a body. It's an interesting thought, so I'm gonna give it a try. It should liven this party up a little come night-time."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, gesturing wildly to the yellow ball in Alexandra's hands. "What are you doing?!"

Alexandra frowned, her eyes flicking down to the materials she held. "This?" she said casually. "It's just biomass."

"It's my stuff!" Elizabeth cried. "Don't just go breaking it down like that!"

"I'll get you a new one if it's that big a deal," Alexandra shrugged.

"That's not the point!" Elizabeth waved her hands around, growing two more pairs to emphasize the existing ones. "It's just -- ugh. You're always like this. You're always like this!"

"Come now, children," Zenobia pushed her hands forward as if to keep the two Gene Nobles from attacking each other. "Let's just…"

As the argument continued, not a single person around it turned to look. They'd glanced over at the initial pop, of course -- but that was just the natural reaction to a sudden loud noise. Now that they knew it was a matter of Nobility, they also knew it was not their place even to observe it. It would be all too easy for anyone here to become fireworks too.

So they ate, so they drank, so they danced, so they laughed. Shreds of fear hidden behind smiling faces. Harmony, to be sure, but not a trace of happiness to be seen.

Edgar frowned.

Once the party had ended, and the ships had left, and the day had rotted into night, Elizabeth stood atop the castle's roof, looking wistfully at the trails the departing starships had left in the sky.

"I was expecting another trap this year," she mumbled absently. "I thought maybe Theophano told the Maven to tell Alexandra to do something. But it wasn't that bad. Maybe all of his plots have run dry? What do you think, Edgar?"

She looked anxiously over her shoulder at Edgar, who was standing dutifully behind her as attendant. With his usual serene smile on his lips and his hands clasped behind his back,

he replied smoothly.

"They say time heals all wounds, My Lady," he said. "If that's the case, then what's the Lord of Flies except another wound? I'd say he's long since sterilised."

"Maybe," Elizabeth nodded without much enthusiasm, turning back to the night. "Maybe. About today, though, Edgar… has anyone been… has anyone been talking? About what happened?"

"People understand it wasn't your doing," Edgar assured her. "Alexandra has a reputation for that kind of thing. It's to be expected."

He'd chosen his words poorly.

Elizabeth's head snapped back -- biology adjusting itself so she could turn her neck one-hundred and eighty degrees. The gleam of suspicion shone in her eyes, enlarged to the size of saucers. Her mouth was a flat tense line, stretching across her cheeks and down the length of her neck.

Oh. This was the most dangerous expression.

"What are they saying?" she breathed, an undercurrent of fear trembling through her words. "It's to be expected? Since I invited her, it's my fault what she did? Is that what they mean?"

Edgar calmly shook his head. "Not at all. I can't speak for anyone else, but in my opinion, you were the real victim back there. It's not as if Jana really suffered, after all, while you had to experience the embarrassment of having a guest act out after you so graciously invited them into your domain. Alexandra should be ashamed of herself… if I may be so bold."

The suspicion faded from Elizabeth's gaze, and she turned her body fully around to match the orientation of her head. Slowly, she nodded.

"Right," she said. "Exactly. Exactly. It's not like it's something I did, is it? Exactly. If people are saying otherwise, go find out who it is, and get their names for me, okay? You're the only one I can trust with this. Just --"

She was interrupted by a loud bang -- and, sighing again, she turned to look out on the fields of Yoslof.

There were fireworks going off. Beautiful and bloody, great red splashes streaking through the sky. Crimson light shone over both of their faces.

"It felt like a waste, otherwise," Elizabeth whispered.

Edgar frowned.

The human fireworks didn't last long -- and when they were finished, Elizabeth stalked off, retiring for the night. Despite everyone's best efforts, she's ended another one of her birthdays in another foul mood. There was no need for any more of Theophano's traps at this point.

Edgar remained for a little while, looking out at the pitch black sky with his bright blue eyes. Before he went to leave as well, though, he first addressed the Pugnant guard standing by the door.

"Hey," he said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Three Hours Later…

Fire.

The explosion had taken out a large section of the west wing, turning it into a crater of blood and stone. The corpses of countless Pugnants and Musca-Pugnants were strewn throughout the wreckage -- some victims of the explosion, some victims of their master. The lingering flames provided the only illumination in the deep night -- those spread throughout the crater, and those clutched as torches by those gathered around it.

A crowd, an angry mob, here to confront the monster. All those that had gathered for this rebellion -- a rebellion beginning with that fruitless explosion. A starting pistol, then, if nothing else.

Edgar held a torch in his own hand -- and unlike all those around him, his face held not a flicker of fear or regret as he looked down into the crater.

The Lady of Flies was putting herself back together. Squirming lumps of flesh, once blasted apart, crawled across the ground like slugs and reconnected, one by one. Within the span of a few seconds, the Gene Noble that had been reduced to scattered entrails stood tall once more.

Elizabeth ground her teeth together.

She'd assumed a more monstrous form, more fit for combat. Her limbs stretched out until they were longer than she was tall, her teeth multiplied and sharpened until they pierced through her own cheeks, her six eyes glimmering with impossible colours as they perceived the world in manners incomprehensible. A massive pair of insect wings protruded from her back, twitching wrathfully against the air.

One nearby Pugnant was barely still alive -- but the slightest groan from his lips sealed his fate. Elizabeth lashed out with a claw-tipped hand, reducing the man to a smear of meat in a split second. A long, prehensile tongue licked the gore from Elizabeth's fingers as she looked up at the terrified crowd.

A second mouth opened on the side of her throat, so that she could speak even as she devoured the carcass.

"Answer," she snarled in a voice beyond humanity. "Tell me who did this. Tell me who gave you this idea. Then kill yourselves. That's the closest thing to mercy I'm willing to offer."

A foot inched back.

A breath shuddered.

A voice whimpered.

Bravery was always only a tiny push away from cowardice, and a Gene Noble's fury was quite the push indeed. If somebody confessed, this place would become a bloodbath of their own making. If nobody spoke, this place would become a bloodbath of Elizabeth's making. Those were the only two paths before them…

…or so the world would say.

Edgar stepped forward.

Edgar smiled.

"It was my idea," he said pleasantly, looking down into the pit of the crater, into the eyes of the creature at its heart. "I'm the leader of this rebellion, I'm afraid, my Lady."

The growling trailed off from Elizabeth's mouths as she looked back up at him. Her wings stopped their buzzing. Gore fell uneaten from her mouth and splatted against the floor, a punctuation mark. Slowly, those six eyes merged back into two -- both wide with disbelief.

"You?" she whispered.

"That's right," Edgar replied, almost cheerful. "I convinced all these people to go along with it. Everyone wants you dead, I'm afraid."

Slowly, Elizabeth shook her head.

"No…" she laughed in disbelief. "No, no. This isn't real. This is another one of his tricks. I touched something, didn't I? I touched one of his toxins he left behind and it's triggered a dream state." Frenzy broke through shock, and she roared into the night: "You can't fool me anymore, Theophano!"

"This isn't a trick," Edgar persisted, still smiling. "It's very much real. You delegate so much to me. Is it that strange to think that, when it came down to it, there would be people who would follow my orders rather than yours?"

Elizabeth looked back at him, and her eyes narrowed. She still didn't believe it. "Why would Edgar even do that?" she growled. "It doesn't even make any sense."

Edgar blinked.

"Because I hate you," he lied. "To tell the truth, I think you're a repugnant and disgusting sort of thing. Not just in terms of this appearance before me right now. On a purely psychological level, you also repel me. You carry out actions that sicken and disturb you, regret doing them, and then do them again. You make a show of mightiness, of a powerful mind, but that strength of will crumbles with the slightest pressure from your peers."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Shut up. That's not… Edgar wouldn't…"

"I wouldn't… what? I wouldn't say this sort of thing? Why? What qualities do I possess that make you think I wouldn't say this sort of thing? This is what you do. You project love and friendship onto the things around you, the things you really know nothing about, because that's the only way a creature like you could acquire love and friendship. Even a hallucination can taste delicious to a starving man, right?"

"Shut up!"

Many mouths roared those words, and the crowd around Edgar flinched, but he didn't even blink. His speech went on uninterrupted, without the slightest change in tone. It was almost like he was in an empty room, speaking only to himself.

"I'd like to correct myself for what I said earlier. I said you crumble before your 'peers', which is true, but that isn't really the right word. How could a thing like you have peers? The idea is laughable. The other Gene Nobles think of you as a child. Your servants think of you as a monster. I think of you as a broken, pathetic sort of thing. Where in that web of relationships would anyone consider you their equal?"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

The roars had become sobs, Elizabeth's body changing and shifting to accommodate her despair. Many hands clawed at her face. Many feet stomped against the ground. Many eyes flicked around, looking for escape, but the words -- the poison -- had already entered her mind.

The one thing Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to do, it seemed, was take away her ears and just stop listening.

Slowly, those sobs trailed off -- and Elizabeth shrunk down into her humanoid form, her dress reduced to an indistinct mass of vague skin and structure. She looked up at him, bloody tears pouring from her eyes.

"Edgar…" she sobbed. "Please…"

It seemed she'd finally accepted reality. Edgar smiled as he looked down at her. Warm orange flame danced over his cool blue eyes.

"I hate you," he repeated. "I will keep hating you. I have always hated you… from the moment I first laid eyes on you."

Those words were the final dagger.

As promised… Elizabeth died.

The demise of a Gene Noble was quite the thing to witness. There was no cut, no wound, no injury, no obvious cause. If Edgar had to guess, he would say that Elizabeth had developed a suicide toxin within her own body, designed to adapt to her own natural defenses… but that was not something that could be seen.

All that could be seen was the youngest Gene Noble slump over onto the ground, crushed by a terminal despair. Her body crumbled into dust, blown away by the wind, mingling with ash as it rose into the sky. Not a soul dared to speak, as if that dust would somehow reconstitute and visit wrath upon them.

Once nothing remained of the Lady of Flies, Edgar turned back to the crowd. He had just watched the suicide of a god. Behind him, the castle in which he'd spent his entire life was an inferno. The grass beneath him was drowning in blood.

And yet, if you looked into those blue eyes of his, you'd think nothing had happened at all.

"Well, then," he said softly. "Shall we go?"