"...The fuck happened to them?"
Currently, Malachi and Belloc were standing unnecessarily close together as they stared into a 'cell'.
Behind a wall of ultra concentrated hard light, a total of around twenty individuals were all unconscious on the floor.
Judging by the fact that most appeared to have soiled themselves, they must have suffered a great fright before passing out.
Malachi remembered the ungodly pressure his unwilling companion exerted only a few moments ago and he grimaced at the thought.
"It's your fault, dumbass... getting all pissy like that, its no wonder that they couldn't stay upright."
"All I'm hearing is that they're weak. Can't even handle me when I'm a little irritable." Belloc muttered.
Malachi had no response to that, and truthfully he was starting to find death more preferable than this situation.
On a keypad just outside the cell, Malachi punched in a short code and the barrier dissipated into nothingness.
With nothing left to obstruct it, the collective smell of urine rushed into his nostrils and threatened to make him puke.
"Ugh..."
Belloc seemed to be no more pleased by the scent than he, so the dragon decided to do something about it.
Unfurling his hands, Belloc released a strange dark smoke from his hands that quickly filled the room.
Malachi couldn't tell what'd happened at first, but a quick pat down of his body left him with a strange look on his face.
He almost felt... cleaner?
"The hell did you do...?"
"Made them clean. Isn't that obvious?"
"How??"
"Emitting magical bacteriophages from my pores to eat dead skin and filth."
Malachi gave Belloc a bit of a side eye and stepped away from him.
"Is that... the only way that you bathe, or..?"
"N-No, you damned idiot! I take regular showers!"
"Just checking... you just seemed like the type to do shit like that."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?!"
Malachi looked down at the death dragon's baggy grey hoodie and sweatpants that were just thrown over his chiseled body uncaringly.
"...Nothing at all."
"I really don't fucking like you."
"Amazing how I hadn't picked up on that."
Malachi ignored the irate dragon and started walking towards a very specific sleeping man.
Using Gwiya, he lifted up Dr. Michaels by his ankle and gave him a hard shake until he eventually woke up.
"G-Gah! W-What is this!? Release me!"
"Now why would I do that when I've gone through all this trouble to make you and your friends comfortable? We planned for an extended stay, you know."
Dr. Michaels looked around at the room that was filled with his fellow scientists working on the Blessed Dethroning Project.
Right now, there was little that could take away the high that Mal was feeling.
He knew that he could add genetic coding from animals into other animals or bring out dormant genes entirely, but he didn't know that he could do it on humans until right this moment.
To be honest, he figured if something went wrong then someone like the good doctor deserved to die in the worst way possible.
"...Why'd you pick a rat though?" Belloc asked as Dr. Michaels continued to groan.
"He made other people lab rats, so why shouldn't he be one himself?" Mal answered confidently.
"...You could have just said that it was on your mind because you were up watching 'Ratatouille' at 4 am."
Immediately, the N'kai's eyes went wide. "How did you-"
"My siblings and I can read minds."
"Perfect. So now I have to worry about three overtly annoying dragons listening to my thoughts anytime they're near me?"
"Of course not, the other two are too polite to listen in to things like that. I'm the only one who doesn't give a fuck."
'And the one I got stuck with somehow...' Mal thought.
"I heard that."
"I know."
Finally, Dr. Michael's' groaning ceased and he slowly tried to lift his head up off the floor.
His first instinct was to look around and inspect the room he was fin as he rubbed his temples to soothe his throbbing migraine.
"I... What was I doing..? I'm having the hardest time ever recalling it..."
From out of the shadows, Malachi grabbed a notebook and pen that he had been saving for just this moment.
"You were about to tell us everything that you were doing for the Revival Government and why. As well as any longterm plans they have for the war and the full extent of their current capabilities."
The doctor stared at the pen and notebook for a moment while blinking his eyes slowly.
Finally, his clawed hands reached out and took them both. "Yes... that's right, master."
"So you have that kind of fetish, huh?" Belloc shook his head.
"I have no such thing!" Mal fired back. "I only programmed him to be subservient, but whatever words he uses ain't up to me!"
"Whatever you need to tell yourself..."
Before Mal could clear his name, both men were suddenly greeted by the sound of a spoon clinking against a bowl.
Looking behind them, they found Apophis leaning against the wall in a standard tight white t-shirt and black jeans; looking as infuriatingly handsome as always.
In his hands was a bowl of what smelled like oatmeal and freshly cut fruit.
"Wondered where you guys were... Any reason why your shadows are fused together?" he asked plainly.
""My mom / His mom.""
"Gonna stay my ass out of this one then..." Apophis muttered as he returned his gaze to his bowl.
"Surprised you pulled your head away from Serana long enough to come down here." Mal said. "Has she run you away already?"
"Course not, idiot. But since I'm technically security around here, I figured that I should at least do my job."
Mal's brow shot upward. "You mean-"
"Mhm, it's not those other blessed guys you all were worried about though. Seems like it's a god. Do you want me to kill them or are you expecting someone?"