Arcs of electric plasma danced between two massive metal coils looming over a small kobold; it lay bound to a metal slab with wires and tubes sticking out of its flesh that fed into a metal box with dials, lights, and gauges.

  “Log: Third experiment of four.” An orc wearing protective gear said into a crystalline shard. “So far, my theory on imbuing kobolds, and other lower intellect creatures, with psionic capabilities has proven… less than successful. My theory has shifted as of late to surmise that the color of the kobold might play a factor, current test subject, Siverius, is a silver kobold of the metallic dragon family.”

  Soft whimpers from the kobold over the buzz of electricity floated into his ears, reminding him of the last moments with his wife. Flashes of her pained face cut across his mind, followed by her sister’s anger. With a pained sigh, he closed his eyes, drifting back to the academy atrium where the elder scholars sat. Zengi, his former sister-in-law, at their head.

  Presenting experiments for funding meant hours of discussion and arguments, but the last time had been different. He could see the hatred in Zengi’s eyes glaring down at him from her high perch.

  “You defied us.” She said through tight lips. “Kobolds were not to be used for your experiments, Hrumnah. They are protected by Dragonborn and do not have the mental capacity for your experiments.”

  A murmur of agreement rippled through the rest of the elder scholars all around him. They, like him, knew how vulnerable their clan had been since the fall of the first Demon Lord, the side of Light threatened to eradicate any remnants of the war. Pushing so close to the Dragonborn was risky, but the reward was worth it.

  “Zengi, I—“ Hrumnah started.

  “NO! I had to send my 7th legion to clean up your mess which cost me lives.” She boomed down at him. “My… your… Zelli.”

  Zengi paused, choking on her words; fury burned any tears that may have fallen. He felt her enormous loss stronger than any other; he had hoped their grief would bond them and gain him favor. But he knew the 7th legion came before all others; with the new Demon Lord trying to horde power and allies, the 7th legion played a pivotal role.

  “Your mental experiments are over. You are stripped of your academic credentials and will no longer be allowed our protection.”

  “But I’m so close!” Hrumnah pleaded. “Zelli knew vhat I could do!”

  “And she died because of it!” Zengi roared, showing her true orcish heritage. “Leave before you meet the same fate.”

  Grunts of agreement echoed throughout the chamber.

  Hrumnah felt a warm streak fall down his cheek, but he wasn’t sure what he mourned more. The elder scholar’s decision to hold orcs back from unlocking their potential or losing his wife.

  No, she agreed with him; she helped him and still loved him. He’d focus on unlocking their potential, but he had to start small.

  A cracking of glass brought him back to the electric reality before him; one of the gauges strained to show the amount of energy flowing through it with a hairline fracture on its face. The flashing lights blinked so fast that they stayed solid. Hrumnah took another long look at the squirming kobold, its eyes wide and teeth bare; Hrumnah’s features softened under his thick glasses as he reached a gentle hand out to the creature.

  The kobold took quick, shallow breaths looking around for an escape and jumping at his touch. Its eyes landed on Hrumnah in his long white coat, wearing a quickly hardening expression behind thick dark glasses. Its eyes focused on Hrumnah’s gnarled, shaky hand gripping a long black lever; steeling himself for the next step, twisting his face to a grimace, he pulled the lever.

  White hot plasma flowed through the wires into the kobold, stretching its mouth into a wordless scream. Plasma jumped out of its body, snapping like a whip and singing the air into a foul atmospheric stench weaving with the biting char of flesh. The kobold writhed in pain as Hrumnah watched on, wearing no expression, lifting the lever, and stopping the torturous experiment. Plumes of silver smoke rose off the body filling the air with the smell of charred meat.

  “Damn!”

  The orc waited for several long moments before removing his glasses. With his eyes closed, he pushed his will into the silver-smoking kobold.

  “Are you living?" he asked.

  After a few more attempts and painful stretches of silence, he let out a familiar whimper.

  “Log: There appears to be a lack of brain function in subject Siverius.” Lamented the lanky Orc into his glowing crystalline shard. “As with subjects one and two, three did not make it. I fear that Zengi was right about using the Kobolds….” He said to his empty laboratory. “Perhaps, this is a fool’s errand. Perhaps the academy leaders are right.”

  He stood

  Feeling a sharp pain in his hand, he glanced at the crystal cutting into his grip. It glowed as it recorded the silent room.

  “The ends justify the means. No more orcs will have to die to industrialize a world for creatures that don’t respect us.” He paused, fiddling with a silver locket around his neck.

  “End record. Date and time: fifteenth moon cycle, sun; at mid-sky.”

  He wiped the blood from his hand on his soft leather pants, transporting him back to the first memory of his wife.

  Strolling deep into the ivory forest, along the ridge of a stronghold of elves, Hrumnah moved as quietly as a boar in a window shop. This forest held a specific type of mushroom, unlike any other mushroom; it grew in white light and made the person eating it hallucinate. It was a pivotal ingredient to unlock the orcish mind.

  Bending to grab a particularly large specimen, he found a thin silver blade at his throat. Holding the edge was a sneering elf with long black hair and armor made from the ivory forest itself. With both hands still on the mushroom, Hrumnah lifted his hands high in the sky, staring wide-eyed past the elf.

  In a flash of black iron, the elf’s head rolled from its body, spraying him with arterial fluid. As the body dropped limp to the ground, a smiling orc woman held her mighty axe over her shoulder; without looking at Hrumnah, she whipped out a smaller dagger. He watched as she peeled the skin from the creature with such precision that it came off in one large piece.

  Flashing him a bright yellow smile, she offered him her calloused hand and dragged him out of the forest.

  The elf tried to kill him; it deserved its fate, the image of the flayed skin rattled around in his head, but he still lived; the ends justify the means. Shaking the memory, he turned away from the scorched kobold, facing his workbench.

  POP!

  He leaned over a green vial that simmered from a flame, turning down the flame. His workbench was full of effervescent poisons, elixirs, scattered parchment, and potions that could change the world. Bubbling liquid around him wafted smells of sulfur and rusted iron into his nose, causing him to inhale deeply.

  “Ahhh.” He breathed.

  Fabricated purple and blue flames stained the room in a spectral hue, casting long shadows across his scowling visage. Cold cobblestone floors sat beneath his feet, pushed against the stone windowless walls. Shuffling through haphazardly piled parchments, he pulled out a blood-red sheet with a black “Banished!” Stamped across the front.

  The header read: Orcish Academy of Uleangi. The bottom had an obnoxious signature at the bottom that swooped and swished too much: Zengi Rottingfoot. With a note underneath: The 7th legion denies your request and forbids you from experimenting. Ever!

  “Cowards. If only I vere allowed resources, I could finish my vork and improve orcish lives. Vhat does a goblin or kobold’s life matter if ve can stop vorking in mines? Stop digging next to dangerous creatures’ homes for Devils. Stop sending our loved ones to wars for profit or to clean up our mistakes…

  She would still be here if I had succeeded.” He paused to gather himself.

  “I vill prove to her that I am not a failure. The next kobold vill join the 7th legion and show my worth.” He paused again, sniffing in the acrid smells of the lab.

  End record, date, and time: fifteenth moon cycle, sun; still at mid-sky.” He noted into the shard.

  Placing the shard in his pocket, he ran his hand through the wisps of white hair clinging to his pea-colored head. Inhaling the musky air through his crooked nose, he let out a long sigh. Taking off his golden glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his bulbous eyes.

  Heaving another sigh, he picked up the crystalline shard.

  “Preparations for the fourth kobold are already complete, I anticipated silver not being the right color.” He paused. “Blue. Blue is the right color; this will vork. It has to vork despite the cost to my soul.

  End record, date, and time: fifteenth moon cycle, the sun; moving out of mid-sky.”

  Setting the glowing shard down again, he turned away from the bench, stretching his long body. With several painful pops, he aligned his spine before limping through his lab, heading toward his library. It was a gray stone wall that was inlaid with bookshelves stretching to the ceiling.

  Ancient tomes of forbidden alchemical knowledge mixed with occult rituals, arcane secrets, and other scientific volumes. He paused momentarily, reaching out with a gangly arm; he pulled out a thick skin-bound book. Again his thoughts went to his wife and the elf that tried to kill them. Her crooked yellow smile shone through any sunny day, and that day she beamed down at him. Her impressive seven-foot tall, muscular frame handed him down a book wrapped in tanned flesh.

  Moisture tried to form at the corners of his eyes; he brought the tome to his long nose and sniffed it. The smell of tanned leather mixed with worn pages filled his nose and brought a nostalgic smile across his face. The subtle hint of the lavender she enjoyed chewing still clung to it.

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  “For you.” He muttered to himself.

  With the skin-bound book labeled: ‘Psionics’ in hand, he hobbled towards a sizeable green slab with notes written in chalk. Across from the slab was a blue Kobold strapped to a long metal table. Various tubes sticking out of the creature pumped a rainbow of liquids into its body. It wore a silver cap with diodes attached to two massive coils a few feet above the table. It arced electricity between them with wires feeding into a large metal cabinet with dials, levers, and buttons.

  Above the first row of buttons, a label read: voltage.

  The second row read: Chemical levels.

  The third: Psychometrics. This had several underlines under it.

  Turning to the slab, he reviewed some notes, placing X’s next to the colors he crossed out. At the bottom, three tally marks denoted three out of four failures in his experiment. He reviewed the notes next to each name, scribbling inside his book.

  Qolmador - Blue

  Siverius - Silver X - No brain function or trace of psionics

  Tempna - Black X - Limited brain function, no trace of psionics

  Veth - Red X - Psionics found for two minutes before the brain oozed out of all orifices

  Taking a deep breath, he pulled out the pink shard, swiping on the edge of the shard. It popped to life with a pink flash.

  “Preparations are complete for the final subject; I vill not get another shipment of my reagents until next month. By then, the Demon Lord vill be in league with the goblins, then Zengi’s legion may be beyond me. This has to vork.

  End record, date, and time: fifteenth moon cycle, sun; close to setting.” He switched off his shard.

  Looming over the unconscious kobold, he could feel his shriveled heart beating hard against his ribs. With his eyes closed, he placed a hand on Qolmador’s chest feeling the slow, steady, beating heart.

  “No, you cannot be calm for what comes next; I’m sorry.” He thought at Qolmador. “Vake up!”

  A blast of psychic energy slammed into Qolmador’s mind wrenching it into the waking world. It convulsed violently before its eyes flung open full of pain and fear. Its eyes darted around the dark laboratory before locking eyes with Hrumnah. He forced a wicked grin slice across his face, despite himself; he thought: “You vill suffer so that many do not.”

  Its eyes went wide hearing the words in its mind; its chest heaved up and down with ragged breaths. Hrumnah touched its chest to feel the increased heart rate, but the simple touch sent it into a frenzy.

  It acted on instinct and fear, thrashing on the metal table against its restraints. Spittle flew out of its mouth from the struggle, spraying its saliva all over Hrumnah. The table began to shake and rock off its moorings from the frantic movements of the Kobold. Shaking so hard that several of the tubes ripped free from its body, spewing liquid over the two of them.

  “Stop!” He commanded, grabbing Qolmador’s jaw with his long spindly fingers. “You vill stop; you must stop! You vill ruin everything!”

  His psychic will pushed into Qolmador’s mind, whose eyes bulged out of his head, letting out angry snarls. A corona of electricity from the giant coils above the kobold’s head cast long shadows over Hrumnah’s face. The Kobold craned its neck back as best it could, seeing the pops of electricity bouncing between coils. It looked at Hrumnah, then back to the coils. An electric smell of ionized air assaulted Hrumnah’s nostrils, making him plug them.

  Neon pops of light escaped Qolmador’s mouth; Hrumnah screwed his eyebrows together, tilting his head to one side. He leaned in for a closer look when an explosion of light ripped out of Qolmador’s mouth. Lightning raked across Hrumnah’s face gouging deep into his flesh and sending him stumbling backward. The lightning twisted with the electricity already arcing between the two coils. He watched in horror as the rest of the tubes ripped free, spraying the coils with a mixture of blood and potion.

  “NO!” Hrumnah yelled.

  He scrambled under another metal table when he noticed all the color drain from the laboratory. The spectral radiance from his torches faded into a wash of gray, covering everything. A crackling of energy filled every corner of the massive lab, with pops and hisses of electricity seeming to come from thin air. Snapping his head to Qolmador, he realized the color wasn’t washing out at all.

  A pulse of pure white energy radiated from the coils, still feeding from the lightning breath of Qolmador. The white energy consumed the room until his dark glasses offered no protection. Hrumnah’s only regret was that he could not study what would happen next.

  The crackling from the electricity stopped, and nothing happened for what seemed like an eternity. A deadly silence filled the lab.

  *Pop*

  The simple sound made Hrumnah’s heart leap into his throat, but nothing else occurred. Opening his eyes to the still pulsing white light, he looked at the Kobold. Burning liquid from the tubes covered most of his body. A sense of weary calm filled Hrumnah; he released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Raising a hand up to his face, he tentatively reached out to Qolmador’s mind.

  “Vhat are you?” He forced the thought into Qolmador’s mind.

  The blue head whipped down to him with eyes glowing bright even in the white energy surrounding it.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Qolmador screeched like a banshee.

  The torrent of sound rushing out of its mouth distorted the longer he shrieked; the loud shrill cry morphed into an electrical mess of static that caused the light to grow in intensity. Hrumnah covered his floppy ears, trying, feebly, to block out the sound that caused fierce pressure to grow in his head—his years of mental training failed him.

  *KRAKKCCCCOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

  Pressure building in Hrumnah’s head radiated throughout his body, crumpling him to the floor in a heap. His vision began to blur and wane when he swore he heard a whisper at the edges of his consciousness. Before he could grasp the whisper, the world went black.

  A pungent smell of smoke mixed with chemicals assaulted Hrumnah, pulling him from his stupor; he fought to open his heavy eyelids. His head swam through a fog of a barely conscious state; he tried sitting up but gave up from the weight of his head. Shuddering from the pain, he groaned; it felt like a herd of giants stomped all over his body.

  Wiping the blood from his nose and mouth, he rolled painfully onto one side; a grunt of air escaped his lips from the effort with a spray of blood. He threw his arm over the edge of an overturned table for support. Pulling himself onto uneven knees, he knelt, afraid to look at the carnage in his lab. Across from him lay the deathly still body of the Kobold.

  “Scheisse.” He cursed, spitting out blood.

  Daring to fully open his eyes, he steeled himself to look at the destruction of his lab. To his right, he saw the slate slab with the chalk formulas and notes untouched by whatever just happened. He whipped his head around the lab and saw nothing out of place, but the sudden movement made the world spin. He stumbled into a crawl, reaching for the metal cabinet of his machine.

  Using the table with the Kobold for stability, he struggled to get to his feet; the spinning subsided, but he felt uneasy. Looking down at the Kobold, he couldn’t tell if it was breathing. Reaching down, he paused a few inches from Qolmador’s mouth. Thinking better of it, he reached out with his mind to see if there was a hint of thought.

  “Vake up, you foolish thing.” He thought, pushing his will into the Kobold.

  Nothing.

  He pushed further into its psyche, penetrating its consciousness to its subconscious mind. Deeper and deeper, he delved into the abyss of nothingness that held the Kobold’s essence. After a few minutes of searching, he pulled out of its mind lest he be lost in the vapid abyss.

  “Scheisse.” He muttered.

  Looking over his equipment, he read the meters and dials that told him there was some brain activity. Yet, he could find nothing. Letting out a low growl, he released the Kobold from its restraints. With a flick of a switch on the metal cabinet, the table slanted upwards, letting the Kobold slide to the floor. He watched it fall to the floor in a bundle of useless meat and wasted effort.

  “RAAARRGG!!!” Hrumnah yelled, kicking the Kobold across the floor.

  It skidded to a stop before his slate slab with his formulas and notes. Taking a steadying breath, he rested his hands on the table. His mind still reeled from Qolmador’s assault, buckling his knees still. He flicked another switch on the metal cabinet, causing a scratching noise at the bottom of the machine. A line of parchment with scribbled readings spit out while he waited.

  “Zengi was right.” He lamented.

  The thought sickened him; he fought back the spinning of the world around him. He could not admit defeat; this was merely something to learn from. Zengi couldn’t be right.

  Fumbling through his pockets for his crystalline shard, he came up empty. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the Kobold sitting in front of his slate slab, craning his neck up at it.

  He froze in shock.

  “Qolmador Siverius Tempna Veth ze third.” It said in his mind. “Zat is a strong name. Is it my name?”

  Dumbfounded, Hrumnah replied involuntarily:

  “Ja...” He thought.

  “Good, und what is your name?” Qolmador asked.

  The Orc paused.

  How long had it been since anyone asked his name? His mind raced for a moment between a real name and a fake name.

  A title would suffice.

  “Professor?” Qolmador asked.

  “Wha… I. Uh… Yes.” Was all the Professor could think the answer.

  “Wunderbar. How did I come to be? I remember white-hot pain, then nothing, und now I am here.” Qolmador asked.

  “I created you,” Professor said.

  Qolmador nodded.

  “Ah. Vhat is my purpose?”

  “To join the 7th legion.”