Within a chamber filled with scrolls and books lining the shelves, dimly lit candles provided the only illumination. Yet, the lack of light posed no problem for her, the Emperor's daughter, gene-crafted beyond any mortal or Space Marine. Her eyes easily navigated her small room, the one place she could truly be herself—at least, for the past three years, thanks to him.
Pictures covered almost every inch of the walls, each depicting a man with short black hair. Some showed him in the uniform of the Imperial Army, others in casual attire, and some even naked. The sheer number of images would unsettle anyone who saw them.
Aurelia gently placed her hand on the scanner, and a soft hiss indicated the room was locked. A creepy smile crept across her face now that she was alone, free from her adoptive father and the ever-present Marines. Last month, she had successfully shifted her legion's ideology from worshipping her true father, the Emperor, to this man whose features mirrored those in the pictures.
"Giggle" she giggled, "Are you missing me, dear?"
She addressed the statue in the center of the room—a golden likeness of the man in the pictures, custom-made by the finest artisan in her legion. Every detail, from the strands of his hair to his facial features, was crafted to her exact liking.
She hugged the statue, inhaling its scent. This statue, uniquely, emitted a smell—the scent machine replicated the aroma of the very man she worshipped. How or why she achieved this remained a mystery.
"You smell as good as the real one did, darling," she cooed into the statue's ear. "But sadly, you're not him. But I don't mind."
Releasing the hug, she gazed at the statue, her eyes unfocused as if something had seized her mind—a feat only the Emperor had previously managed.
"I wish you were here," she whispered. "I wish I was the only one you cared for."
She bit her lip, smearing the resulting blood on the statue.
"Never thought all of my 'sisters' would also be interested in you!" she exclaimed, glaring at the statue as if it were responsible.
"You… are you cheating on me?!" she demanded, receiving no reply. "ANSWER ME! Why? Aren't I enough? What do you want more? …I…I will give you everything! Even my life! So please be only mine! None of my sisters will truly care for you as much as I do!"
Tears streamed down her face as she caressed the statue's face and pulled it into another embrace.
"Yes, I know you wouldn't cheat on me. Sorry for misunderstanding you, Darling," she sobbed into the statue's embrace, clutching it as though it were flesh and blood.
"Let's spend our free time together," she suggested, pulling away from the statue reluctantly. She walked over to the table and picked up a small book. The cover bore a name, JARED, smeared with dried blood.
She flipped open the book to the latest page, where her fantasies had spilled out in ink. It was a diary she wrote for the man she loved, even more than her god-like father.
The notes within detailed extraordinary feats of the man—none of which had ever happened. Some were delusional imaginings of him spending time with her, while others were elaborate plans for their future. She had even chosen names for their children.
.
.
.
The clash of steel rang through the training grounds as First Legion Space Marines sparred with practiced precision. Today was different from their usual sessions - instead of company captains overseeing the drills, their Primarch herself stood watching. The Lioness, Lady Leona, observed with an icy composure that made even her transhuman sons stand straighter. Her ceramite-clad fingers wrapped around the grip of her enormous blade, her stern presence amplifying the already intense atmosphere tenfold. Her piercing gaze swept across the training cages, betraying no hint of approval or criticism as her warriors demonstrated their martial prowess. The usual disciplined air of their practice had crystallized into something far more severe under their gene-mother's direct scrutiny.
The Lioness's piercing stare held a distant quality, her thoughts drifting far from the clashing of blades before her. For five years, since that chance encounter, one mortal's visage had burrowed into her consciousness like a persistent thorn. His features - unremarkable by human standards - now haunted her with unsettling clarity, surfacing unbidden in quiet moments and amid thunderous battle alike.
She had fought this intrusion initially, treating it as a weakness to be purged through iron discipline. Yet the harder she pushed against these thoughts, the more insistently they returned, until his phantom presence became a constant companion. Her performance had suffered until, paradoxically, she ceased resisting these visions. Now she found an unsettling comfort in embracing the hallucinations of him at her side.
Luther had noticed the change in his adopted daughter. He spoke of concerning episodes - her muttered conversations with empty air, sudden flares of rage followed by unnatural calm. But she deflected his worried inquiries with practiced ease, assuring him all was well while knowing the lie that passed her lips. The truth was far more disturbing - this mortal she'd met but once had become woven into the fabric of her being, as much a part of her now as her own gene-forged flesh.
'…my….l…dy?' The muffled voice in her ears were barely registered as she in her deep thought about that one mortal
Brother Sergeant Romeal's thumb hovered over the Vox communicator for a moment before he lowered it, a mix of frustration and unease crossing his features. Three attempts to reach his gene-mother had met with silence, and yet she remained fixed in place, her intense gaze never wavering from the training ground. The space marine trainees shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her unwavering attention, the presence of their Primarch an undeniable force.
Romeal shared a loaded glance with Captain Galedan, both aware of the potential consequences should they dare to disturb their Primarch a fourth time.
"Twenty minutes and counting," Romeal voxed, his voice tight with a mix of concern and impatience. "Captain, what are your orders?"
Galedan's response was swift and laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Do you have a death wish, Brother Sergeant? I'd rather not present myself for a decapitation, thank you very much."
"Understood, Captain," Romeal replied through gritted teeth. "But standing idle for much longer will not reflect well on us either."
"Stealth missions aren't your forte, it seems," Galedan said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "Well, consider this a learning opportunity."
The Lioness shifted, her movement silencing the chattering Space Marine. Without a word, she turned toward the exit, her pace swift and purposeful. The two followed, struggling to match her speed. Lioness, unbothered by their struggle, couldn't shake her worry—she was on the far side of the galaxy, light-years away from him, while her rival sister was by his side. The attempted kidnapping by one of her sisters just days ago only added to her distress. Who else would dare try to take him but her?
"Fools," she whispered, loud enough for Romeal and Galedan to flinch at her hissed words.
Galedan's voice was tight with concern as he voxed, "Are we in deep space without a ship?"
Romeal's reply was grim. "I'm afraid so, Brother Captain. Let's just pray it won't involve torture."
Luckily, she was more concerned with her sisters than with them. As she approached her chamber, two marines stood guard in front of the entrance, saluting as she drew near.
Without pausing, she ordered, "You two, wait here," and entered her room, leaving the door to slam shut behind her. The four marines were left standing awkwardly in the hallway.
"Captain," one of the guarded marines addressed Galedan. "Did something disturb our primarch?"
Galedan removed his helmet, revealing his features—a man of Calibanate origin. "I wish I knew," he replied. "But who would dare to pry into her secrets?"
"No, we won't," the marine named Gadriel assured him.
Romeal added, "But our mother has been acting differently lately. Her usual strictness has lessened, but the silent treatment she's giving us now is far more unnerving than her typical discipline."
Gadriel speculated, "Perhaps it's a coincidence that the Emperor recalled us to Terra. Maybe that's why she's been so quiet recently."
"I suspect the same," Galedan nodded. "Let's hope it brings good news."
"Yes, brother captain," the others murmured in agreement. "Let's hope so."
The Lioness entered her chamber, a vast room illuminated by a dim green light. With purposeful strides, she crossed the room, removing her helmet and disregarding the countless dataslates awaiting her attention. Activating a holograph, she revealed a map of the galaxy, her attention immediately drawn to a big red dot.
"Oh dear," she whispered, her voice shaking as she faced a reality she wished could be different. "Why must you be so far away from me?"
Her voice, filled with longing, echoed through the chamber as she stared at the map, her eyes narrowing. The dot then zoomed in, revealing the face of her beloved, the man who held her heart captive. She knew him intimately, but he remained unaware of her existence, a fact that pained her deeply.
"Hathor," Lioness hissed, her tone icy as the cold depths of space. "You took my position as Warmistress, but that I could accept as Father's will. But now, you dare set your sights on my beloved?"
As she stepped closer to the holograph, seven smaller red dots appeared near the large one, representing seven of her sisters, drawing near to the object of her affection. Jealousy and rage consumed her, and she vowed that whatever stood in her way, be it sister or stranger, would be eradicated from the galaxy.
She fixed her gaze upon Jared, her eyes sinking into haunted hollows as she scrutinized his features. "How dare you, a mere mortal, manipulate me?" she breathed, a ghost of a smile—the kind that could send hardened space marines into a shiver—flitting across her face. "We've only crossed paths once, yet here I am, ensnared by your presence. And we shall meet again, though it may require the spilling of blood."
muffled muffled
A sigh escaped her, tinged with a dark longing. "Ah, Jared..."
Her attention shifted to the cage that now stood in her chamber, a rare sight among her sisters' quarters, yet here it was, a testament to her obsession. Within its confines, Mary, the Imperial lieutenant, was bound and gagged, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her green eyes—mirrors of Lioness's own—betrayed their kinship in all but stature. Months without sunlight had drained the color from her face.
A servo-skull approached, its blade sharp and merciless, as it cut away the gag. Mary winced as the pain seared through her, but the relief of being able to speak was palpable.
"Why are you doing this?" Mary's voice was raspy, her emerald gaze locked with Lioness's. The fear and reverence she once held for the primarch had long since been replaced by pure, unadulterated hatred.
"If you had kept your hands off what doesn't belong to you, perhaps you wouldn't be in this predicament," Lioness responded, her words as cold as the void of space.
"Your property? Don't be absurd! Jared is his own person, and he's certainly not beholden to—agh!" The wires attached to Mary's back crackled to life, sending jolts of electricity coursing through her.
"Mind your tone," Lioness warned, her voice a low growl. "I have no desire to end your life... yet. If he were to discover that I've killed you, my plans would be ruined."
"I hope they do fail," Mary spat, her body wracked with pain but her hatred lending her strength. "Why can't you approach him like a normal person? Or has warfare stripped you of the ability to interact with the opposite sex without resorting to... this?"
Lioness frowned, her twin hearts pounding uncomfortably. Perhaps there was truth to Mary's words—perhaps Jared wouldn't find her so appealing if he knew how possessive and suffocating her desire for him had become. She had never been adept at interacting with others, and now, consumed by this unfamiliar emotion, she felt even more uncertain. But Mary, who had spent so much time by Jared's side, surely understood the intricacies of his heart.
"Yes," Lioness replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Enlighten me, then. Tell me how to win him over."
Mary's eyes narrowed, and she swore under her breath. "And why would I do that? So you can make a fool of him, or worse?"
"I could reduce the bloodshed," Lioness bargained, her voice low and menacing. "I could ensure you remain by his side. Surely that is preferable to your impending death."
Mary's face contorted with internal struggle. "Just... keep things civil," she said at last. "You don't have to resort to your violent tendencies. I'm sure the Emperor gifted you with enough social skills to approach him like a normal person."
"Is that so?" Lioness whispered, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "And what if 'normal' doesn't work?"
"What do you mean?" Mary shot back, her anxiety a buzzing insect trapped in her chest. "He likes me because who I am. You can't just mimic me and expect to succeed."
"So I need to be near him. At all times. Got it." Lioness nodded, a slow, deliberate tilt of her head, then strode toward the door, a panther about to pounce.
"What do you mean by 'all the time?' Hey!" Mary scrambled after her, but the words chased Lioness's retreating back. "Don't ignore me!"
The door slammed shut, the sound echoing the finality of a tomb closing. Mary stood alone, the silence pressing in, heavy and suffocating.
"Fuck," she breathed, the word a plume of smoke against the suffocating quiet. "I feel like I made a terrible mistake. 'All the time'? What does that even mean?" The servo-skull, bearing her meager meal, whirred into the room, a mechanical mockery of comfort. The water within its metal grasp trembled, mirroring the tremor in Mary's gut. She had the sinking feeling that Lioness's 'all the time' would paint the walls crimson.
.
.
.
Alpharia sat quietly in her prison, the room that kept her caged. She knew her plan—no, their plan—had been flawed, and now she was paying the price. The failure gnawed at her, a constant reminder of her disappointment. Time had lost all meaning, she had been there for at least three days, but she didn't bother to count the hours ticking by in endless monotony.
"Why is this mortal so difficult to acquire?" she hissed, her frustration echoing off the cold walls. "It should have been simple. Distract him, knock him out, and take him. But then Sanguinia appeared, snatching him from my grasp like a eagle diving for its prey. And then Cora, appearing out of nowhere, blocking my pursuit while I was pinned down by Hathor, the Warmistress... How she knew of my plan is beyond me."
Alpharia's gaze darkened as she recalled the moment she was thrown into her cell. O'Megan, the only one left in charge of their legion, had anticipated this outcome and wisely withdrew their ship from orbit—a strategic move that Alpharia couldn't help but respect.
Now, she heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the oversized blast door. Alpharia knew that presence as well as her own. It was him—the Emperor—accompanied by Constantin Valdor. But her eyes, instead of focusing on the powerful figures, fixed upon Jared. Why was he here? Her gaze locked with his, an intense connection that made him shift uncomfortably. He was so close, yet she couldn't reach him. The mental anguish of having him slip through her fingers again was a sensation primarchs were not designed to feel, or at least not easily.
"Alpharia," the Emperor addressed her, snapping her back to the present. "I have heard of your actions. Is it true?"
Alpharia gulped, knowing her judgment was at hand. "Yes, father. I tried to kidnap him."
The Emperor's silence stretched, weighing heavily on the expectant atmosphere. Alpharia, the embodiment of unpredictable behavior, had dared to attempt something unthinkable, even against her six sisters. A suitable lesson loomed, a consequence designed to ensure she never repeated her mistake.
With an almost imperceptible signal, the Emperor had Alpharia summoned from her cell. "Alpharia," he said, his tone brooking no argument, "you will accompany me back to Terra."
Alpharia's surprise was palpable. No punishment? Why the sudden trip to Terra? As if reading her mind, the Emperor continued, "I know you seek understanding, especially regarding the absence of retribution. Rest assured, there will be a discussion, but first, we return to Terra. Lioness and Juno await us, as does Sanguinia, should you wish it."
Alpharia gulped, her eyes tracking Sanguinia as a hunter would its prey. The rage in Sanguinia's eyes was palpable and unlike anything Alpharia had ever seen. Unable to break free from Sanguinia's intimidating gaze, she stood frozen.
Sanguinia took a step forward, her intent clear. But before she could act, the Emperor interjected, "Halt, Sanguinia. I know your desires, but you must control yourself."
At the Emperor's command, Sanguinia paused, her fury temporarily restrained. She addressed the Emperor, her voice laden with contempt, "Understood, Father." Though she refrained from attacking Alpharia then and there, her intentions remained clear. Should Alpharia dare to employ such deceitful tactics again, whether with herself or Jared, Sanguinia would not hesitate to finish her off.
"Follow me," the Emperor commanded, not bothering to glance back at his daughters as he strode away. "And don't attempt anything... ill-advised." Jared, trailing behind him, swallowed hard. Two primarchs flanked him, their piercing gazes never wavering, the hunger in their eyes palpable. He could feel it—their eagerness, like wolves circling prey. If not for the Emperor's presence, he might never see the sunlight again.
Alpharia, for the first time, found herself inexorably drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. The same compulsion seemed to grip Sanguinia, she noted. Initially, this unsettling sensation had filled Alpharia with worry. She had plotted, schemed to excise the feeling he ignited within her, even contemplated his demise. Yet, each attempt ended in failure. She tried to ignore him, but every time she did, an unpleasant sensation clutched her heart, the fear of him being claimed by another gnawing at her. O'Megan, too, was ensnared by the same inexplicable feeling. Together, they reached a conclusion, they would kidnap him, not to torture or kill, but to observe, to understand why this mere mortal held such sway over their souls.
The journey to the Emperor's ship is pleasant—at least for everyone except Jared. A normal mortal would be reduced to a puddle in the presence of just one Primarch, but Jared has two of them staring at him intensely. Despite this unnerving experience, Jared remains positive and hopes that once they're on the ship, he will be separated from them.
"Very well. Jared, you will stay with Sanguinia from the outset." Constantin Valdor's voice broroked no argument.
Jared sputtered a protest, but Constantin silenced him with an amused glint in his eye. "No objections. This is a direct order from the Emperor, and this ship boasts the finest medical facilities in the Imperium. You are in good hands."
"I will ensure he is well cared for," purred Sanguinia, flashing Jared a disconcerting smile.
Constantin turned to Alpharia, ignoring the jealous glare she directed at Sanguinia. "Lady Sanguinia, please escort Jared to his quarters. I have other matters requiring my attention."
As Jared was led away, his thoughts turned to the other Primarch onboard, 'Alpharia?' he wondered. She had seemed the most normal of the bunch when they first met, but Jared now knew better than to trust appearances. Like Lady Juno, who hid her true nature behind a stoic facade, he suspected Petra might be just as dangerous as the rest.
"What are you thinking about now, Jared? I hope it's not one of my sisters," Sanguinia purred, her voice laced with possessiveness. 'Not this again,' Jared thought, a sense of dread washing over him.
"No, Lady Sanguinia, I was just reflecting on the events of the last three days. It's been a whirlwind of an experience, to say the least." Jared chose his words carefully, mindful of Sanguinia's volatile nature.
Sanguinia's eyes sparkled with an unreadable emotion. "I'm glad we can share this time together. You have no idea how special you make me feel, Jared. I've never felt this way before." A hint of a blush tinted her cheeks, and her majestic wings fluttered restlessly. Jared found her reaction endearing, a stark contrast to the ruthless killer he knew her to be.
Sanguinia, however, misinterpreted his silence. "Do you feel the same way about me, Jared?" she asked, turning away, her right wing covering her face as if to shield herself from his response.
'Oh, the confession perhap?' The booming voice of the emperor make him stutters 'Remember, choose your words carefully'
"I—my apologies, Lady Sanguinia. This is all so sudden. I need time to process this new reality. I went from being an expendable soldier to...well, this. It's a lot to take in." Jared stumbled over his words, his face flushing as he averted his gaze from the expectant Sanguinia. "I mean, I don't hate what you've done, but maybe if we took the time to get to know each other, things wouldn't feel so...awkward."
Sanguinia's eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and anticipation. "So, that means I still have a chance with you, right? Don't reject me yet, Jared." She stepped closer, her wings relaxing, revealing her true emotions—hope and desire.
Jared's heart raced, and he found himself unable to deny her. "Of course, Lady Sanguinia. How could I say no? But let's take things slowly, step by step. We don't have to rush into anything."
Sanguinia leaned in, her face mere inches from his, her perfume filling his senses. "I know I should restrain myself, but you're just too cute, Jared. I can't help myself."
'It seems I must intervene,' the Emperor's voice echoed in Jared's mind. 'I will grant you resistance to her allure for now.'
"Lady Sanguinia," Jared said, his voice steady despite his pounding heart. "I appreciate your interest, but I don't think this is the right time or place for such...intimacy."
Sanguinia pouted, her eyes—like shimmering jewels—reflecting her disappointment. "May I at least hold your hand? Just for a moment?"
Before Jared can answer Sanguinia's request, a figure steps from the shadows, revealing itself in full Terminator armor. The interruption startles Sanguinia, and her eyes narrow at the newcomer.
"Sanguinia," a voice calls out, and Jared recognizes it as belonging to Petra, one of Sanguinia's sisters. "I thought you two had already arrived at the chamber."
Sanguinia's gaze fixes on Petra with a mixture of irritation and annoyance. She knows that Petra will not back down easily, and unlike others, Sanguinia does not underestimate her sister. Sanguinia is aware of Petra's skills and the fact that she is easier to tempt with emotions—a flaw that Sanguinia is more than willing to exploit.
"Oh, nice to meet you again, Petra," Sanguinia replies, her smirk conveying a hidden threat. "Your presence is... unexpected."
Petra's brow twitches. She understands Sanguinia's subtle warning, but she maintains her composure in front of Jared. "Unexpected? I thought you were with Father when he gave me permission to come aboard this ship. Khan couldn't make it, as she needed to keep an eye on Fulgrimia."
Sanguinia's tone turns apologetic, but her words hold a veiled threat. "Oh, forgive my ignorance, dear sister. My mind was occupied by other matters. You know, I'm happy to have your company, but I suggest you maintain a respectful distance, or we may have... problems."
A moment of silence follows as Petra weighs her options. Among her sisters, Sanguinia is the one who sticks closest to Jared, and her charisma and beauty are nearly unmatched. Only a few could even hope to compete with Sanguinia's allure. In terms of beauty, Fulgrimia might stand a chance, but even she lacked the same level of charisma that Sanguinia possessed—the very trait that Petra knew she herself lacked.
"Yes, I'm aware, but our father ordered me to train him, and I simply obey his command." Petra replied, her tone measured. "Unless, of course, you wish to go against our father's wishes?"
Sanguinia feigned surprise, though she knew full well the reason for Petra's presence. Jared had received basic military training in the Imperial Army, but to serve the Primarch, himself required a more intensive and rigorous regimen. The Emperor could have sent his Custodes to train Jared, yet he had specifically chosen Petra for this task—a decision that mildly annoyed Sanguinia. She could only offer a soft nod in response.
Without missing a beat, Sanguinia turned to Jared, her face bearing the chilling smile that he had come to know all too well over the past few days. "Jared, dear, tell me, who would you prefer to train with? Me or my sister?"
Petra, expecting this move, maintained her deadpan expression. She had anticipated this very scenario and already formulated a plan. "There's no need to answer her, Jared," she said, addressing him directly for the first time. "Yes, Sanguinia, Father has granted you permission to join in the training, but on one condition."
A hint of curiosity crept into Sanguinia's voice as she asked, "And what might that condition be?"
Petra's voice remained emotionless, leaving no room for negotiation. "I will plan and oversee all aspects of the training. You are not to interfere in any way. Do I make myself clear?"
Sanguinia's response was casual, masking her true feelings. "Oh, certainly, I don't mind at all."
"Very well, Jared," Sanguinia said, her voice calm and composed as she turned toward him. "Let us retire to our chambers. You are to be in our father's presence at dinner, where he wishes to... discuss certain matters."
'I only hope it doesn't involve another Primarch,' Jared thought, his mind drifting to the potential challenges that lay ahead. 'And if it must, then I pray the one I encounter is reasonable, like Lady Juno.'
'Sadly, Jared, the opposite is true.' The Emperor's voice boomed once more, causing Jared to flinch. He still wasn't accustomed to the way the Emperor chose to communicate with him. 'She is, in fact, on this ship. I, along with my Custodes, lost sight of her moments ago, which is why I felt it necessary to give you this warning.'
'Can you give me her name, my lord?' Jared pleaded, his voice tight with urgency. 'Or at least some guidance on how to deal with her?'
The Emperor's voice, now softened, replied, 'Her name is Kassandra Curze, but she prefers to be called Nighthuntress. She is the Primarch of the Eighth Legion, and a formidable one at that. I fear she may already be close by, but take heart, for Sanguinia and Petra will protect you should any harm come your way. This audience is at an end, Jared. Consider your mission a success, should you survive it.'
Jared's eyes widened at the Emperor's revelation. 'You let her loose on this ship on purpose?!' He waited, but there was no response. The Emperor had left him, though Jared knew they would meet again at dinner.
"Something's moved. I felt it." Sanguinia's hand clasped the hilt of her sword, the metal cold against her palm. "Stay on guard, Jared. We're not alone."
Petra's weapon hummed to life, a soft buzz filling the air. "An uninvited guest, indeed. I sense ill intent."
Sanguinia's eyes narrowed, and she pulled Jared protectively towards her. "One of our sisters, perhaps. And if it is, we must prepare for conflict. She won't hesitate to harm us."
From shadow stepped a figure, pale as Lady Cora, clad in deep blue armor festooned with the tanned hides of humans and xenos alike. A livid scar snaked across her face, a grim testament to battles past. Her eyes, burning with a malevolent purple light, fixed on Jared, drinking him in. With predatory grace, she closed the distance, each step a silent promise of violence. Sanguinia's grip tightened on her sword hilt, knuckles white. Petra's weapon hummed, a menacing insect hovering before its prey.
"Kassandra," Sanguinia breathed, the name tasting of ash on her tongue. Her own hand on her sword. She was outmatched; her usual armor discarded for more casual attire. If Kassandra attacked, she would be cut down like wheat before a scythe. "What brings you here?"
"Father—the Emperor—invited me, as he did you all," Kassandra rasped, her voice a dry whisper, her gaze never leaving Jared. "But he saw fit to cage me, unlike you, sister." A cruel smile stretched her lips, thin and sharp as a razor. "But I broke free. And to see you…with him…" Her words dripped venom, her eyes blazing with a possessive fury. "Such a crime deserves judgment. And I am here to deliver it." With a sickening hiss of unleashed power, her weapon—a terrifying claw crackling with energy—snapped into existence.
The Emperor's voice, laced with amusement, echoed in Jared's mind. 'Ah, yes, this should be entertaining.'