[!] Unexpected ==> 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

The tappings of late spring rain on a large floor to ceiling glass window were all that filled the Ranger’s workshop. Not even the thrum of magitek engines and turbines were enough to fill the eerily quiet space. Dull grey moonlight poured through the raindrops as the storm rolled over the farm. 

It hadn’t even been four bells since the Incident. An accident, an unexpected result to an otherwise already untrustworthy attempt at catching demons. 

“What a mistake…” 

The mutant’s words were but a low huff and whisper as her one eye looked up to the dreary sky. Her lone seat creaking as she shifted her weight. Her heart shuddered beneath her heavy thoughts, mind adrift in the maelstrom of lost causes and troubled outcomes. 

They won… did they not? They captured the succubus, that was the goal. That was why they lured her out from the darkness of the la noscean jungle, in an attempt to bring some manner of peace to the locals and visitors as well as pursue their own wants and needs as a Ranger.

Thanks to lady Sariel’s assistance, they had captured a succubus. A second addition to the already present collection of colorful demons. Their containment coffers stowed away behind wards of the Original Ranger Corps’ design as well as her own. Locked away behind iron and adamantite vault doors and sealed magitek gates for extra protection. 

A Ranger’s work always involved the Darkness™, it was always intending to be dangerous, chaotic work with unpredictable outcomes. Yet… this… This she should have seen coming. How much of a stupid fool, how much more of a bloodied rookie waiting to plunge into death could she have been? The longest standing and remaining Ranger, last of her generation, last of her Corps and yet… she made this mistake? 

What an idiot. 

Belladonna’s thoughts kept drifting to hours before, during the summoning.. during the capturing. The Black Ranger, while effective was too slow to hinder the succubus containable. Blackened daggers and shadows proving slow and unpracticed against a voidsent from a tier of her magnitude. Ambition clouding proper judgement… rookie mistakes…

Rookie mistakes leading to unpredictable outcomes. 

By the time anyone had realized what had happened, the succubus had already sought to posses her, cursing her or fixing her. Claiming the little hyur’s body for her own means and ends. A dreadful existence. And yet… It was not to be. 

The demon… the voidsent she’s bound to… had other ideas.

You see, once a Ranger chooses this as their path. One must cast aside fear, and take unto their enemy as their enemy takes unto them. Essences of demons are taken, extracted and used… Binding to the user, to the Ranger through the magitek Morpher and use of special aetheric and arcane seals. Each one binding the essence to it’s user in the goal of co-existence in an limited range of the Ranger’s body. 

Were the Ranger to become ill, the demon bound would move to cleanse their body of the pathogen, healing their sickness, keeping their health. For one can not exist without the other. And both ‘souls’ both essences, the Ranger’s and the Demon’s strive to live. Strive to co-exist. 

A rare anomaly.

It was a tie that binds Belladonna and her demon that kept the succubus from gaining full control… and yet.. Even with Bella safe, all would not be left untouched. The demoness, as it were had already done her work, altering the hyur to her liking, changing her enough to be a fitting host. A fitting slave.

Slowly now, Belladonna rises out of her chair. Her arms extending as her hand reaches and presses against the cold glass. In the dim light, she could see herself there, like a mirror. Only darkened greys mixing with the reflection of magitek monitors in the background reading inconclusive numbers and unpredictable outcomes. 

The hyur’s skin in the light could still be seen as the patchwork for what it was. An uneven body, strands of musculature visible along her biceps and parts of her shoulders through the paper thin and transleucent skin while other parts were thicker, ‘normal’ yet darker… seemingly permanent variations of bruises from the wear and tear through the passage of time and unhealed injuries. 

Scars scattered along her body, her skin showing impressions of light and dark over her form where bullets, blades and debris had pierced and punctured. The scars despite everything seemed like accents to the ink that adorned her. The black ink itself in designs of the ancient and arcane, a trained eye could tell they were sigils… seals. 

Beyond such knowledge, they simply looked like intensive art, ornate and unique. 

Belladonna’s frame in the reflection was noticeably larger… taller. More built than how frail and pitiful she had looked before. Her facial features looked more refined, something akin but not quite how she looked prior to her mutation*. 

[* See the Whisper Ridge Chapters for mutation context ]

This outcome was… more close to how she looked, were her smaller form to have aged… if it could’ve at all. But now… she was this… an unexpected outcome… through careless mistakes..

How… Unexpected…

-H.M.