The cylindrical chamber in the room flashed brightly as the blue energies within rotated at blurring speed. Pipes that ended in midair leaked blue light which crystalline apparatuses on the chamber collected. The light in the chamber began to slow until the shape of a man within became visible. With the sound of a seal being broken, the door to the chamber opened, and M. Bison emerged forth. A bright blue aura surrounded him which was slowly fading to a lighter shade. His eyes blazed with such an intensity that one might suffer injury if looking directly at them. That intensity also began to fade the instant he left the chamber.

He gazed at his hands, clenching them and feeling the strength within them. Grinning, he reveled in his power. Bison upturned his palm and released a spinning and crackling azure orb. His signature laugh, "Mu-hahahaha," reverberated through the room.

"I can feel it, My Lord. You are drawing the very essence of Psycho Power closer. I can feel it permeating the cracks of this world."

"Yes, I feel it too. I can taste it. How is your machine coming, Tres?"

"It is going reasonably well. I may have to rely on a backup plan for which I will need Lord Blackhawk. It will help if he is kept close to Mri Granka and out of the field until we are finished. How are you feeling? It is unfortunate that your selection of replacement bodies is so limited."

"This body is becoming rather worn. A body is just a body. I do not care that only a female frame seems suitable to withstand these higher levels of Psycho Power. The Power, it seems to prefer it that way. Soon, I will merge with it. Make sure your machine is ready to open the way. You have all you need?"

Tres nodded.

"Good, then go and make sure your progress has no further delays!"

Bison suppressed another round of laughter as his favorite enigmatic servant left him. Tres was rather mistaken about at least one thing. That would be Bison's secret to keep. It wasn't Tres's fault. Bison had deliberately misled him. That matter had no connection to his Diabolis Ex Machina which was fortunate. Tres could not afford to make a mistake where that was concerned. Such an unthinkable disappointment would certainly require an unthinkable punishment.

--

A boss with whom Tres was unfamiliar approached him in the hallway. "I must speak with you."

"I have no such need," Tres said dismissively. "Good day."

"I know what you are doing, and I have a proposal," the boss said, smiling. Tres stopped in his tracks.

"Very well, this way," Tres sighed.

After they had walked for a while, the boss said, "Please, in here."

Tres shrugged in acquiescence, figuring the boss must have examined this room for listening devices or prepared it for some type of trap. "By the way, I believe it is customary for an introduction when two people first meet."

"Call me, Jackal," the boss said.

As soon as Tres closed the door, the boss began his speech.

"I've heard some speak of what you've been doing. You say you're doing it to help Bison. However, I know enough to know that the things you've been doing have nothing to do with that. You see this thing here to which I no longer have any special attachment? It means I know a bit more about you than anyone else here."

Jackal was dangling from his hand a small cross with a rather special emblem, that of the Iscariot Order. A former member of that order could quite possibly have knowledge of Darkstalkers. Perhaps, even those whom he served - though that was unlikely. Such knowledge was more than a human mind could handle.

"If I don't say anything, it is no doubt that Bison is going to be worse off than when he began, and you will be in significantly better standing. I wish to stand with the winners. Let me join you, and you won't have to worry about any of this information leaking out. Should you decide killing me is easier, I have measures in place to make sure what I know is revealed."

Jackal watched Tres for a reaction. Suddenly, Jackal’s mind raced beyond his control. Rapid flashes of past memories flitted through his consciousness. It was disorienting and somewhat painful. It was as if he was trying to think of something against his will without knowing what it was. Only lasting a moment, he was left with a dull ache.

"What was that, some kind of trick?" Jackal demanded, backing away.

Tres appeared contemplative. "I see that you are remorseless, completely without nobility or conviction. It is actually a rarer trait than you might think, being possessed only by true sociopaths."

"I'm not interested in your psychology lesson. What do you say to my proposal?" Jack felt a twinge and looked down at his arm to see a fanged mouth open in it. The skin of his arm was being pulled into it as it began suck. Yelping, he collapsed as maws opened in his knees, swallowing them.

About to scream, Tres told him quickly, "Scream and die instantly," putting a hand on the sword pommel at his hip. Jackal swallowed his cry and noticed that he felt no pain. However, he had already begun slipping into hysteria. "They are only illusions. Try not to go mad just yet. There's a time and a place for screaming. I hope to have a meaningful conversation, and screaming just gets in the way."

Tres now gave him an answer as he'd demanded. "I would not tarnish myself by truly allying myself with you, and you've convinced me that you know too much to be a mere pawn. What you need to do is tell me about the arrangements you've made to reveal me, then we can put this all behind us."

"What makes you so special?" Jackal defiantly demanded. His mind unable to disbelieve the illusions devouring him, Jackal was still on the floor, doing his best not to writhe.

"I have a noble mission to protect humanity, the world, and the very universe. They sleep you see - because I feed them. Unspeakable horrors, unimaginable suffering . . . things that damage the soul. The torment of a few humans keeps them satiated so that they do not awake. I've helped guide humanity in the creation and refinement of its monsters. However, that mission which once shined golden with promise has lost its meaning."

Unable to help himself, Jackal asked, "Why?" Perhaps, he would hear something he could use to his advantage. He needed a leg to stand on, in every sense.

"Over 2000 years on the job? Even I can become bored and disillusioned, I suppose. I've realized I've been protecting his children, even after he abandoned me. I began to wonder what the point was. It made a difference if the things I did were the exception. However, I'm no longer needed. Humanity is more than capable of continuing to promote its own unspeakable torments in far greater excess than is even necessary, though in these times there is hardly anything that is unspeakable. Man has lost its way. Even now, Bison is absorbing the abandoned hopes of the hopeless, increasing his own power. Not every human is as bad, but most would be if they could.

Most of all, I'm just tired. I want to see them for myself. I don't care that their symbiotic relationship with the universe is broken. Besides, the sour food they now receive is just an overwhelming malaise rather the true morsels of horror upon which they once fed. I see their awakening now as unavoidable. This evil world will then be purged. The walls of reality will break down, and the Final Conflict will begin. Perhaps, Good will prevail. I have always served Good, and this is the only way to give Good a chance at victory. I'm merely expediting the process."

Jackal was at a loss for words. Tres was completely mad. What sane man could believe such nonsense? Even while part of the order, he had not heard anything so ridiculous.

"Well, I've told you my doubts and fears," Tres said, wistfully. "It felt kind of good to get that off my chest. Do you feel like sharing now?"

"I'd be a fool to give up my only defense against you killing me."

"Right you are. Long ago when I was something else, I could have simply drank you dry of that red nectar which gives you that quite hollow thing you call a life. I could have taken all your memories with it. However, I am not that anymore. Let me tell you about those mouths slowly eating away at you." More of them had appeared on Jackal. His left hand had disappeared completely into the fanged opening at the end of his arm. "You do not possess that thing which makes you capable of conviction. You are selfish and cowardly without the ability to feel remorseful about being so. That really serves nobody except yourself, thus mostly removing you from what you might understand as an ecosystem of sorts. Yet, there is still one role on the food chain for you.

I call them hellworms. They feed on corruption, particularly that which is empty of purity. After a hellworm devours a body that is thoroughly riddled with weakness, it excretes a body with conviction in its vices and a desire to share them with others. The hellworm only digests the weakness. I hope that the new you will be more useful to me."

Horrified, Jackal said, "You said this was an illusion!"

A giant fanged mouth rose from the floor, biting down on Jackal's stomach with rows of serrated teeth. The man-sized worm's lips curled back, and it sucked the upper body of Jackal down its throat through its teeth like a sieve as it dived forward down into the ground.

Tres looked at the undisturbed floor. A spray pattern of blood was the only evidence that Jackal had ever been here. The four words, meant for Jackal, that had been on the tip of his tongue, uselessly escaped his lips. "You can scream now."