Casually proceeding through the corridors on her portable throne, Elinor noticed an end to the runic grid, now visible thanks to Jumi’calro. They crossed over it, causing the bright space to quickly darken. Much of the wall’s base design kept the same theme, showing light crystals at various points that illuminated as they neared, clearly in a power-saving mode.

Noa walked along her right side, her pace slow as she observed the living zombies spread out ahead of them. Ever since Elinor had given her little speech, the giant eight-limbed ape woman had remained silent, and all that could be heard were the faint screeches of the ant-like crabs in chaos.

Elinor’s gaze drifted between the various signs of battle they passed over, showing torn limbs, lingering spore-like mist that Sari’aél passively neutralized with her aura, and brownish blood.

Ramuk’s proud emotions were transferred through the Nexus, the Elite Hunter feeling blessed to escort her through hostile territory, all while being stationed closest to the wall; his thunderous steps sent small shockwaves through the floor that Elinor could faintly feel through her Thélméthra Throne and seeing Azalea’s smiling blue-haired human form absently examining her fingernails atop the Gorilla’s armored shoulder was mildly entertaining.

Valerie and Theresa kept their poise, passively examining the scenes they passed.

Ultimately, she was enjoying her time away from the city. A mediocre battle, some fun experiments, and a runic AI with a maze of secrets awaiting them.

Elinor’s focus went to her flaming hand, twisting it around in fascination while watching the dancing energy flicker off her skin; this living style of zombie was only available when in her Lich’s Conquest State.

Yes, she would need to sacrifice ten percent of her entire army when this was done, but poor quality Unintelligent Undead wasn’t much of a loss to her and would trim down the numbers at the end of the day—additionally, it would reduce the daily cost by a further fifteen percent, which was worth the price.

More effective than I anticipated, she mused to the angel.

Sari’aél flew in her usual fettle, hands closed behind her back, and her tone following the cadence Elinor had come to expect of the Seraph. “Considering it improves their natural faculties, a large advantage over the reduction in abilities from a direct raising, and their ferocity compared to their peers is something to be taken seriously. What should also be noted is that they do pose a threat against ‘all’ living beings and could be brought against our own forces, such as the Argent Dawn.”

Elinor gave a small nod at the critique. There is only a short time I can direct their attention, but I can kill them if they turn against us.

“Not entirely,” Sari’aél returned, giving her a slight smile. “Look closer into the Lich’s Conquest addition and the functions you have at your disposal.”

Vision creasing with question, Elinor adjusted her posture and elegant cloak, inquiring further into the Living Plague I attachment. The condition soon became apparent, causing a grimace.

Ah … My energy crafts the disease inside their body; I can destroy the replication process, but their bodies need to fight the lingering infection. So, it’s not a kill switch on the people but the virus’s production.

A sadness passed over the angel’s countenance. “Precisely. The creature’s mind will begin to experience the terrifying reality of being a slave in their own bodies, flashes of nightmarish images they cannot escape. The transmission will have ended, but the actions do not, and the stress on the body can still lead to their deaths, much less the damage others inflict on them as they’re screaming, trapped inside of their own mind.”

I’d expect no less from a Lich ability, Elinor whispered. Still, it’s certainly an option I can utilize … It lasted longer than I anticipated. Eighty-seven infections from a single, minimum injection of the infection core.

“Hmm…” Sari’aél’s gold glowing eyes examined the carnage they were coming upon at a junction. “How many times can you enhance the effect?”

Noa slowed to a stop at the five branching tunnels they came to, expression showing concern. “They’ve stopped multiplying … Still, they fight with a ferocity I have never seen, slaying five to twelve more workers to one death.”

“Not an accurate representation,” Azalea replied, giving the ape a sidelong look. “This was an ambush, which is why there is chaos in their ranks. They are already beginning to adapt and work together in response to the infection. It will become less effective as time goes on.”

Elinor followed every death of the infected in three of the paths that the creatures went. “That may be the case, but zombies were never meant to be for tactical assaults—heh, it’s for overwhelming numbers and PsyOp.”

Tilting her head to the human spider, Elinor allowed a small smile to lift the edges of her mouth, the cold pleasure of her Lich side raising its head. “Bring me a hundred of them.”

“My pleasure!” Azalea chimed, the fine hairs she’d been controlling constricting to close around the prey she’d already woven the sensory thread near. “Only a hundred?”

The screeches increased as the spider slowly dragged the workers away from the confused gathering, trying to discover the issue with their brethren.

“For now,” Elinor said, vision shifting to Noa. “Can you tell me how many are inside your tunnels, and I assume they have stronger soldiers, as well?”

The white gorilla studied her nonchalant attitude toward the enemy she’d struggled with for seemingly decades. “An exact number that is invading the functional facilities I can monitor … 32,207.”

“A high number, hmm … Does that include their soldiers?”

“It does,” Noa grunted, rubbing her top left arm. “4,472—the powerful ones that can hurt my sol—umm, my … workers,” she muttered, eyes downcast.

Elinor watched Azalea pull in the throng of wiggling prey, limbs tied up as the girl dragged them closer and distracted the others with her fine locks. “More than I thought. Not that it matters, though.”

Dozens of flaming butterflies formed out of the fire encompassing her body, gently flapping through the dim space to hover around her victims. “To answer your question, Sari’aél, I can strengthen the infection transmission rate by six—each successive increase of affected units is additive, while the cost is multiplicative—doubling each time. If the initial price is two Death Energy, in the end, a single unit, at its most potent, will drain sixty-four Death Energy.”

Noa folded her arms and shivered as Azalea began making minor cuts on each of the prisoner’s limbs for her butterflies to land on; the green light flooding their veins was far brighter than the first infected, showing the improvement. “I don’t understand how your resource management functions, Empress Elinor, but is sixty-four hundred a simple amount of your … Death Energy, was it? I find this method … intriguing, using their soldiers against themselves.”

“Oh,” Sari’aél mused, observing the AI, “how much has she puzzled out, I wonder? Has she discovered you’ve cut back on your original goal after determining the number of combatants?”

Elinor pondered the Seraph's inquiry; it definitely was something she should investigate. How intelligent was Noa?

“By no means,” Elinor chuckled, “but can you tell me what the results will be if eighty-seven is the number of workers I can infect with a single unit?”

There was a dubious look in Sari’aél’s features that Elinor understood well enough; she just wanted to know if Noa would realize the holes in the plan, yet she’d adjusted it already.

Noa’s expression tightened, her arms crossing to take on a more studious demeanor. “Testing my strategic mind and deduction skills? If so, I did not expect you to take this approach when seeking to pull me to your side.”

Elinor folded her hands in her lap, sending each butterfly to land on a target; she could give the initial command through the Nexus since the drive was sent from the Death Energy induced infection itself. “If an empress is to gauge where her subjects best fit in her empire, a measure of their ability needs to be taken.”

“Wise,” Noa whispered, vision wandering between the swiftly massing zombies as they twitched and jerked; now that her aptitude was being questioned, a confident side of her was coming out. However, there was still a nervous twitch in her chest when she met the Elite Hunter’s cold eyes.

“You have not given me all the information needed to draw an accurate conclusion, but considering it isn’t a simple sum of the energy you utilize and in the light of how many enemies you have to deal with…”

She paused, suspicious sharp blue eyes tilting to her. “If this infection functions off of diminishing returns after each transmission, and that force isn’t rekindled in others as your force is cut down … You will not turn all one hundred of these insects.”

“Perceptive,” Elinor congratulated, slowly clapping her hands. “No. What else can you deduce from my actions? Predict what questions I will ask and work from there,” she instructed, returning to her lax position once finishing her sixtieth zombie, sending them on their way, split into three groups to maximize their carnage.

“How mean,” Sari’aél sighed, “making her do this in front of Ramuk, who she’s intimidated by. Although, she must function under pressure. You’re also using language that pushes her into being more in a positive light to joining the Empire.”

Exactly. This is recruitment.

Noa didn’t skip a second, drawing Elinor’s attention. “I can only make a rough estimation based on what I’ve witnessed and understand about your abilities so far … but I suspect you only selected twenty soldiers to attack the three areas of the tunnel opposition is known, is for a multitude of reasons:

“First,” she stated, mirroring Sari’aél’s posture, which Elinor figured wasn’t a coincidence, “because spending a significant amount of your resources on simple workers when the soldiers will eviscerate them, even if augmented, is a waste.

“Second, you are unaware of the exact positions of the bulk of their army, and so, by sending an initial force that costs 3,840 to deal significant damage to the main chain will have a considerable blow, considering every zombie, according to the information given, once enhanced six times, can turn a maximum of 522 workers, exclusively—there was no mention of soldiers, which do have a higher immune system.

“Thus, each of the three branches you sent your twenty infected creatures will have a maximum potential of 10,440 turned workers, which is a mighty blow against our enemy.”

Her face darkened. “However, you would have considered that the soldiers will be more formidable since you’ve questioned their existence. So, you’ve kept resources in reserve in case of attack from other areas and to see how much damage a number of zombies will cause when resistance is met.”

She turned to glare down two of the hallways she’d sent the dying creatures, using each of her heads. “Third, it is unlikely your zombies will be able to reach their full potential, even if amplified. I assume if one were to die, and it could transmit fifty more times, that number would be lost, not made up in another unit…”

A pause brought the roaring screams of the ant-like denizens to the forefront, echoing down the halls as the zombies multiplied at a rapid pace. Noa wasn’t wrong, though; every subsequent zombie had more damage than the first, lowering their lethality in the long run.

Hot air shot through the AI’s nose, which Elinor felt; the fact Noa could cause slight effects within her environment was interesting to note. “The soldiers have taken notice and are making their way to the front as the workers retreat, leaving behind a sacrificial horde for the bulk to escape.”

A deep resonation rumbled in Ramuk’s throat. “So, they do have some awareness of tactics.”

He didn’t pursue the topic after Elinor prompted him to let the girl work through it herself without distractions.

“As time has gone on, they have become more intelligent,” Noa muttered. “I call the current formation ‘the Wall of Dominance’ … The soldiers stack in a dense pack and use their armored underbellies to crush their opponents, destroying any kind of front line.”

Elinor could imagine a bunch of bugs coming down like a flood. Unfortunately for them, her zombies took the World War Z approach. Her horde was already in the hundreds and climbing rapidly since the workers weren’t swift enough to handle the magnified horde of insects, sweeping through their ranks by crawling over one another.

Soon, the screeching bugs were replaced by clicks and pops from the jerky zombies, muscles ripping with their fifteen percent increased speed from the sixth power multiplier—a few added benefits came with the steep price of expanding the disease’s infection count.

Noa turned her attention to the throng, commentary gaining momentum as no one interrupted or belittled her. “I have noticed they are faster than the first batch you sent—likely a product of the more robust quality; although, they appear to break down at a quicker rate, which can hurt the transfer count overall.

“In terms of ferocity, the workers are terrified, causing minimal damage to your horde as a whole, but the ones to the northwest will soon come up against resistance. I suppose you wish to turn their warriors next?”

Studying the bright-eyed Quen’Talrat, Elinor smiled. “Some excellent deductions. Is there any threat down these two free tunnels?” she asked, gesturing at the areas she hadn’t sent the zombies.

A lump dropped down her throat. “Ahem—no, those areas do not hold the nutrients that they enjoy … It is the power stores and gem refinement areas that are their focus.”

“Mhm…” Elinor hummed, excited to discover she had a method of refining the stones for use; in fact, this might have been the primary purpose of Noa in the first place, but there was so much to learn about this elaborate underground network. “Where do you see the most success for my attack?”

Turning to examine the three branches, Nora pointed to the hallways, Azalea translating the directions for her to better grasp where they lead. “I believe your zombies will eventually kill all of the workers there and there—they are cut off from the main body.”

“Northwest is the largest cluster of snowy mountains, southwest is back to the city, and her last angle is the north, Empress. She believes our threat is to the northwest.”

“Excellent,” Elinor smiled, leering down at the remaining forty insects. “Azalea, kill them, but don’t be too messy about it.”

Catching her meaning, Azalea inserted her thread like a drill, skewering their internal organs—they quit moving in seconds, life flooding out of them as dark blood pooled out of the wounds. Releasing eleven butterflies, Elinor raised the same number of Poor-Grade, unintelligent undead.

Sending five of each to the non-issue areas, she said, “These skeletal reanimated versions will kill off the zombies when they’ve finished converting everything in that section—zombies target anything that is not undead.”

“Which includes me,” Sari’aél giggled.

Elinor hadn’t considered that, but it was true. “Now, we proceed to the war front.”

Continuing forward, Noa glanced down at the insect, glowing with an inner green fire that licked off its exoskeleton and dense, bone-like limbs; it lacked some of the frightening, muscular curves from the lack of skin, but it seemed to impress the ape.

Eventually, Noa broke under the silence. “Empress Elinor…”

Leaning against the side of her throne, Elinor directed a sidelong look at the AI. “Mhm?”

“I have—seen enough of your powers to recognize you are very different from the Ke … You mentioned that you met my creator?”

Ramuk’s agitation grew slightly, thinking she was trying to disrespect her, but he held his tongue.

“I have his body—which means I’ve talked to his spirit.”

A shiver ran down her frame. “I—I see, so you can also do that … Umm, if that’s the case … Am I to assume you can bring him back?”

This, however, had Ramuk’s full attention, focus darting to Elinor.

She figured this topic would come up, and the light in the girl’s blue eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t want to give up your hopes, Noa.”

“Oh…” her vision fell before returning to her lax posture as she went on.

“Can I? Yes. However, out of respect for the Ke’s wishes, I have chosen to leave him to rest.”

Ramuk’s large eyes widened. “The Ke … He does not wish to resume the conquest?”

“Heh-he-he-he,” Elinor brushed back a lock of her hair that had fallen across her front. “I guarantee you, Ke’Thra’Ma would love only one thing above his ambition, and that is to be the ruler.”

Silence descended upon them upon considering her answer, but an awkward smile soon brightened Noa’s mouths. “You respected the Ke’s wishes, though … He approved of you but wanted to be ruled by no one. So, that means…”

A roaring, deep laughter that dampened even the horrifying screeches, clicks and tapping of the creatures filled the hall. Ramuk drew everyone’s gaze as he pounded his chest five times. “Which means the Empress is the successor of the Great White God! The Ke has passed on the mantle—but of course, he would. Empress, I am awed by your show of power once again—for the Ke to see any as an equal I never imagined!”

Elinor and Sari’aél chuckled at his outburst, but it soon trailed off. The implication of those words soon dawned on her, though, and she fixated on Noa’s beaming smile. “So … If I am your creator’s successor…”

Noa bowed her head. “I am at your service, Empress Elinor … I was skeptical at first, but within the confidence and honesty you have shown me—the unusual power that has even Elite Hunters and my great creator to acknowledge your prowess—I will try to serve you to the best of my limited abilities.”

Valerie, Theresa, and Azalea all started clapping at the celebration, but Sari’aél brought it to a halt. “Empress, why are you not satisfied?”

They stopped in the middle of the hallway, Elinor glaring at the slick brown liquid, broken shells, and severed limbs of the zombie flood.

Why? She asked the Seraph, feeling a bitter hand grip her heart. I respect Ke’Thra’Ma, but I won’t be handed subjects by riding on his coattails … I won’t use his name to spread my influence.

Naturally, the Seraph had asked a rhetorical question, already knowing the answer yet allowing her to complain and get it out. “I’d expect nothing less from you. How are you going to correct this unfortunate direction?”

… By breaking down the bond between Ke’Thra’Ma and Noa. It shouldn’t be all that difficult, all things considered.

Elinor straightened on her throne as the drone shifted to face the confused and nervous AI. “Noa, I’m going to ask some questions that are going to be difficult to hear and process. Are you capable of thinking for yourself?”

Visibly doing her best to not take a step back and retreat, Noa’s unsure gaze darted to the Elite Hunter before returning to her. “Y-Yes, Empress. I can critically think and reason…”

“That’s not what I asked you,” Elinor chided, causing her to flinch.

Fiddling with her hands at her front, Noa’s feet pawed the black stone. “Am I capable of thinking for myself … I’m … I’m built to think and act for myself.”

Elinor’s fingers pressed against her lap. “Do you really believe that? Let me take this a different route—Ramuk?”

“Yes, Empress!” he asked, his muscular frame towering beside her to glare up at Noa.

Leveling a serious stare at the fidgeting giant female ape, Elinor asked, “Do you think she is a Quen’Talrat?”

His booming and commanding voice caused Noa’s muscles to sag. “No, Empress! This is a runic creation of the Ke that has taken the appearance of my former Great God!”

Elinor let the reply sink in, yet Noa passively took it, vision once again on the drone’s front feet. Jaw tightening, she strengthened her tone. “Noa, I agree with Ramuk. You are an AI, not a Quen’Talrat. Do you believe that makes you lesser?”

A tear fell down Noa’s cheek, her lips trembling. “I … suppose it does—Empress Elinor…”

“It does not!” Elinor flatly denied, causing the woman to jump in shock, and Ramuk’s brow furrowed, listening intently to her words.

“Why do you believe Fini rushed all the way back to my city and my Tower to inform me about you? Do you believe I would have even bothered to make a personal trip all the way here to even entertain some Elite Hunter I could raise from the dead? No. I came here for you, Noa. Think! What does that tell you?”

Her two open mouths quivered a bit, seemingly unable to say the words, and Elinor doubled down. “You aren’t dumb, Noa. You’ve already proven that to me. Answer me. Why would I come all the way here to meet you?”

“Am … Am I that i-important?” she questioned. “No … No, I can’t be…”

Elinor stood up, cloak straightening as her tone turned stern. “Do you believe my presence to be so fickle? Don’t make me repeat myself … The only reason I am here is that you are a runic AI, Noa. You are not a Quen’Talrat, and you needn’t concern yourself with being bound to a Quen’Talrat. Think, Noa.”

Taking a step back while gripping her arm, Noa glanced down the hall. “Umm … Your zombies have met the…”

“I don’t give a damn about them!” Elinor snapped, making Noa back up against the wall. “My whole purpose for coming here wasn’t to start a war … Think! What reason did I have to ask those first questions to you? Why did I decide to put myself at risk by entering a battlefield? What is the greatest prize I had to win from involving myself?”

Sari’aél’s encouraging tone contrasted her’s. “I know you can do it, Noa! Just think a little about it and don’t put any preconceived notions into the analysis. Work off the information you’ve collected.”

Theresa and Valerie were giving her a soft smile, knowing she was doing her best to snap the AI out of the caged, depressed mental state she was in. Azalea was having more fun doing minor things to help the zombies with her thread, weaving back and forth on Ramuk’s shoulder while humming softly to herself.

Noa’s throats constricted, wild eyes scanning for anything but her. “Umm—I … I, umm…” Her focus fixated on something unseen, cheeks dampening with tears. “You were trying to mitigate the damage … You have Jumi’calro, your rune scribe expert—he’s learning the Ke’s technique to—you wish to save me.”

“That’s not the main point.” Elinor sighed, closing her eyes and slowly retaking her seat; her maids quickly fussed over her. “Yes, it’s important that he learns how to heal you. However, right now, my primary concern is that you see me as someone worthy to rule. Not on the merits of Ke’Thra’Ma but myself—I stand on my own feet, and unlike your creator, I treat my subjects in a very different light. Understand?”

The woman’s focus slowly made its way to her, hugging herself. “If … I’m not a Quen’Talrat … What form should I choose?”

A slight curve lifted the edge of Elinor’s mouth, knowing she was deflecting a little, but the opportunity was golden. “Are you saying you can change your appearance at will?”

Noa cleared her voice, using one hand to rub her throat. “I can … Although, I need a template—something to use as a base. If you are my new … What should I call you?”

Relieved she’d finally made some progress with the AI, Elinor glanced up at Ramuk; he was reconsidering a few thoughts of his own from her statement. Centering on the massive figure, Elinor hummed. “That depends … Are you willing to treat yourself with respect? I did not come here to recruit someone that values themselves so little. I came here to gauge the merits you can bring to my Empire as a proud citizen of it.”

Elinor joined her fingers atop her lap. “If you wish to become a functioning, noble citizen of my Empire, you may call me Empress Elinor—Empress works, as well,” she added with a playful smirk.

Again, liquid came to the AI’s eyes, but the cause wasn’t the same this time. “Empress Elinor … I wish to join your Empire. I want to feel useful again.”

Nodding, Elinor finally felt satisfaction. “As to the new look you wish to don—you can go with something similar to Fini or me, considering the two of you have developed somewhat of a connection. Whichever you choose … or is there something else that has caught your attention?”

Sniffing back her tears, the giant ape straightened, trying to rebuild her confidence. “No, Empress, umm—I’m so honored! C-can I do a mixture of both? I know I might be overstepping my bounds,” she whispered, gaze drifting to Azalea, who gave her a toothy grin and wave, “but it seems as if this Thélméthra has taken a similar approach.”

“Her name is Azalea, and yes, I have no contention with that choice, as it was solely made by you.”

“Congratulations!” Sari’aél clapped, soon followed by the rest of the company. “Welcome to the Empire!”

They watched the massive ape brighten, shrinking to a smaller size until she resembled a tall human, taking some inspiration from Theresa, Valerie, Azalea, and herself while bringing in a few characteristics from Fini and Giliri’s Nalvean side.

A light blush was on her honey skin tone, taking after the South American skin tone Theresa showed. “Is there anything you’d like me to change, Empress? I am not a judge of beauty in this state, but—but I would like to be attractive.”

Glad she was taking the initiative in saying what she wanted rather than being used, Elinor studied her appearance. “What would you say, Valerie, Theresa? A darker skin tone, and maybe add a few of the markings of the runes to her body—like the tattoos I have,” she said, having the maids expose her collarbone to show part of the feather.

“Oh, I really like that idea, Empress!” Valerie said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, and make them glow like the moon—and her eyes, what if they were really blue, compared to Sari’aél’s gold, and also had a kind of curved moon look—you know, where it’s like a sliver!”

“Hmm…” Theresa watched the changes slowly take shape. “I do love the tail … Nalveans seem to draw a lot of feminine beauty from them. The reddish scales across your neck, breasts, and waist as a means of clothing are a good touch, but I would add a little on the arms and ankle—perhaps another color as a fashion statement.”

“What do you think of longer, oh and pointed ears, Theresa, like an elf?” Valerie jumped back in, “and the spikes are a big thing for Nalveans, too.”

The motherly Maid’s expression became a tad skeptical. “Spikes are definitely a defining trait for the Seaweavers and a staple of power and beauty; Giliri has mentioned it to me in our private conversations, but where do elves and long ears come into play between humans and Nalveans, Valerie?”

“Eh-heh, well,” the girl’s smile became forced, “I think it will just look cool. Oh, like black hair and glowing blue highlights—yeah, I can see it! It would be pretty tech-like, and you’d look mysterious! Oh, and accessories, like mine, but more moon-like!”

Elinor giggled as Noa’s brow creased, being a little overwhelmed by the requests. “You really have this lunar AI theme in mind, Valerie.”

“I do!” Valerie laughed. “I was talking about it a lot with Violet when she was in the city; she loved the whole idea, which was how I got her to design a galaxy dress for her mom!”

Slowly nodded, Elinor took a deep breath. “Okay … now that dress makes sense. I think that’s enough dress-up for today, though. You look … elegant and unique for a Nalvean-human hybrid,” she mused.

“That’s … good?” the former ape asked, giving Theresa a questioning look.

“Yes, dear, you look divine.”

“I see…” Mirroring the Maid’s posture, she bowed her head, hair fanning out to cover her face. “Thank you—uh … is it supposed to do this?” she mumbled, brushing back the long locks—and having only four limbs is so strange—this size, too … although, I am conserving far more power this way.”

Elinor cleared her throat, happy to see her showing a little more confidence; Ramuk was at somewhat of a loss for words as he processed the transformation—she wasn’t his definition of beauty any longer, which would probably be fine by Noa. “On that subject, how long do we have to charge your crystals?”

Composing herself, Noa added a pretty smile to her dark cherry lips. “In this state, three months. I should have reduced my energy to size ratio long ago.”

“Good,” she whispered, feeling much better having a clear goal in mind. “Now, my next step is to cleanse your halls and find the plans Ke’Thra’Ma used in designing you—he was a meticulous records keeper, which means there should be designs somewhere here or in Nethermore.”

Hope and beauty in place, Elinor saw Noa taking a liberal amount of posture guidance from her maids, which wasn’t a bad thing. “Empress, am I to assume this means I won’t be alone any longer?” She couldn’t keep the slight tremble out of her voice.

“No, Noa. I will always have someone stationed here to support you in tasks you cannot do because of your diminished forces. In fact, my ultimate goal is to link you to the city grid, allowing you to travel freely among the populous as one of its citizens on the days you have free time.”

“Free time?” Noa questioned.

Elinor giggled. “Are you telling me you cannot freely walk around the city while also performing the minor tasks needed in a day? I have more faith in you than that.”

“Oh, umm, hmm,” her glowing eyes fell to the floor, and a small, thankful smile lifted her embarrassed cheeks. “I will need some time to adjust to the way you do things, Empress Elinor, but I am excited to see how my—my life changes.”

Shifting her gaze to the hallway, Elinor’s expression pacified a little. “Can you fly or float through the air, Noa?”

“I believe I can? I have never tried because I wanted to emulate the Quen’Talrat that built me, but it should be possible.”

“Good … I think I’m done with trials, and it’s about time we get a little serious. Azalea, Ramuk … you may execute the remainder of the insects. Noa, take us to whatever area houses the floor plans for this network.”

Taking to the air, the dark-skinned AI darted ahead, tail swaying to the side as she twisted to face them, joy in her words. “If you would follow me, Empress; right this way!”