You step down from nautiloid's deck onto firmer ground of the Penumbra, artificial world and capitol of your empire. Far away, in the centre of its disk, the hateful star is trapped behind monumental walls that allow only sliver of its light to caress the surface. Just enough to create eternal twilight, vastly more preferable conditions for your kind than brightness of day.
It may be far from biggest and greatest of cities your race ever created, even this port, one of the lesser on this side of the disc could still be an impressive sight, with all its bazaars, laboratories, living quarters and slave pits. It contained thousands of your kind and hundreds times more thralls picked from all across the multiverse, all of those lesser races filling the air with their own sets of smells and sounds. Unpleasant and bothersome addition in a way, but a necessary one.
While your mental signals compel thralls to work faster on unloading your possessions you exchange quick greetings with your peers and catalogue favours and debts you can cash in to push your plans forward. There is so much to be done and the creatures you command are so slow with their work does not help. Your irritation grows as you assess the thralls, before finally singling out an especially inept one. He seems smaller and weaker than the rest of their kind, unsuited for heavy labour. You wait until he places down the package before calling him to you. You watch him for a moment as he stands before you scrawny, underweight and with that dull, mindless expression characteristic of the lower forms of life. He won't be the best of meals but demonstrably lacks any other value so you order him to bow down and get ready to accept embrace of your tentacles...
After sharp crack of the skull, and quickly cut-off scream only things that remains of him is fading sensation of mildly pleasurable nourishment and the body that needs processing into slave feed. You order one of other thralls to take care of it while you move deeper into the city where your true work of experimentation and scientific discovery awaits.
Glory of old (annonymous donation, recorded by Kessa)
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