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The last thing she remembered, was a blinding light in the sky. A light made of such a pure, concentrated dark energy.
It was contradictory in its brightness. It looked like it was going to envelop the world. So when everything came crashing down, Imogen Herra knew she had suffered through, was all going to come to an end.
She knew standing in that field of fire, raising her arms to the sky and shouting insults at the God above would guarantee her a swift death.
So she felt surprise when she shot up from a hospital bed, out of breath. The white light caused her to relax for a moment, but then panic quickly after once she realized,
"Why am I still alive?!"
After she whispered that, she tried to move her arms, only to feel a conflicting tug of metal against her wrist. She tried the other arm, and felt herself only able to move so little due to the gleaming, metallic handcuffs attaching her to the hospital bed.
Sigils were carved onto the metal. They glowed a faint pinkish-purple, and Imogen could not read the foreign lettering.
Suddenly, the sound of dress shoes tapping against the floor alerted Imogen. It was approaching her bed, and she finally looked up to see who it was.
"Hello darling! I'm glad to see you're awake and well!" The figure in front of her spoke, a fondness lacing his voice.
This man was a tall, imposing figure, though his fashion sense alluded to his flamboyant nature. He wore a large hat with flowers and butterfly pins, though, vibrant monarch butterflies could be seen all throughout the black suit he wore. His tailcoat also looked like the wings of a butterfly.
Imogen held her breath as this person sauntered over to her hospital bed. When he was right next to her, he quickly pulled up a chair to sit near her. He crossed his legs, and sat in an elegant posture.
Imogen moved herself away from the man as much as she could, her back hitting the headboard of the hospital bed.
"Who... Who are you, I should be dead... Are you—"
At her words, the man laughed, and shook his head.
"Oh dear, you're not dead, silly! I saved you from Ruin." He smiled.
Imogen felt her pulse quicken with fear. She locked her focus on the man's orange eyes. She felt energy beginning to swirl around in her body—she needed to get out.
"Free me immediately! And leave me alone!" Imogen commanded, feeling her head jerk briefly to the side.
The man in front of her, didn't budge one bit. Instead, the man in front of her placed the back of his hand against his head, as if he were checking for a fever.
"Aw, you gave me a little bit of a headache. Nice try though, I believe in you. I suppose I'll have to thank My Lady for those sigils."
A disturbing grin spread across his face, and Imogen felt her blood run cold.
'Why wasn't he being affected!?'
Again, she tried to pull her hands away from the bed, but the handcuffs held her in place. They clinked against the bars of the hospital bed, and as Imogen looked down at them, the sigils were glowing.
"You know, my dear, I know more about you than you think... Oh! But where are my manners?! Allow me to introduce myself."
The man did a small bow in his chair, and looked back up at Imogen through the lace at the brim of his hat.
"My name, is Amadeus, and I have rescued you, my darling Imogen Herra." He smiled. "I am with a very charitable organization; The Valeborn Syndicate, I'm sure you've heard many things about us."
Imogen stayed silent. She had a feeling whoever this 'Amadeus' was, he knew far too much about her.
Seeing that Imogen wasn't talking, Amadeus sighed, shaking his head.
"A pity you don't want to speak to me. I suppose there really isn't anything for us friends to talk about since I've read all about you already." He crossed his arms. "Dr. Arison doesn't know you're awake, or, alive at all for that matter! It's okay, I'm sure you're closer with him as a friend than me!"
Amadeus was about to stand, and Imogen's blood froze at the familiarity of the name. She felt herself begin to tremble a bit at the thought of seeing her scientist again.
She raised her arm to call out to Amadeus.
"Wait!!" She called out of instinct, "please... Don't tell him I'm alive..."
Imogen wanted to say more, but she stayed quiet. By the look of Amadeus' satisfied reaction when he sat back down, she felt hesitant to admit everything.
"Oh? Aww, I'm sorry, I didn't know you and him aren't best friends anymore! Don't worry dear, I won't bring up his name again."
Amadeus quickly reached up to hold her cheek in his larger hand. He turned her head to one side, before examining the other.
He wasn't comforting her, not with that intense analytical gaze.
"You are just the cutest thing. Strong, it seems, and so adorable. I find it hard to believe that man would leave his pet wandering alone on the brink of Novathera 's collapse.." He giggles, pinching both of her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. "You almost look like my little sister, sweetest little thing, my favorite viscount, with no bias, of course."
Imogen's face couldn't hide the irritated look she displayed. One more time, she tried to yank her left hand out of the cuffs. But, it was all for naught.
Amadeus removed his hand from her face, instead, using it to pat her head as if she really were a pet.
"I could make you my little assistant. No more needles, no more painful tests, sweetheart. I could change you, make you unrecognizable to that man, if you wished. You just have to be my errand girl."
Despite the annoyance, Imogen looked up at the man sitting next to her. She didn't have any other allies, and yet, he was being so nice.
It was a strange feeling.
"You can do that?" She asked quietly, attempting to hide the glimmer of hope in her voice, "Is that why you saved me? To recruit someone?"
Amadeus shook his head.
"Nono, my Lord specifically requested you! He found you sooooo interesting, and I tend to agree with his opinions." Amadeus spoke.
His hand ran through her long, black hair. He smiled as he felt his fingers easily comb through the strands.
"I can change your appearance, I'll provide the hair styling, and a brand new wardrobe for you, even. If you can do makeup, you're welcome to any of my old palettes and my card to buy new ones."
Amadeus had a grin plastered on his face that emanated power.
"I can change your identity, darling. I'll give you a new name, and a new life. All you have to do, is say yes."
Amadeus' finger booped against Imogen's nose as if she were an animal. It made her visibly flinch. But she sat there for a moment in silence.
She was thinking, it was obvious on her face that the gears began to turn in her head. After a few minutes of silence, she began to nod gently. It was a hesitant nod, given that she had no other choice at the moment.
"Yes..." She spoke softly, her hands resting gently in her lap, "I will... Consider joining you."
Amadeus smiled, a little squeal coming from him in delight.
"Ah! There's no 'consideration,' darling! You join the Syndicate, or you die. For your case, because you want to die, you would be tortured! In that case, I will get started on integrating you into our wonderful cause!"
Amadeus stood from his chair to his full height, turning on his heel and beginning to walk towards the door. His dress shoes tapped lightly against the hospital floor.
But then, he stopped in front of the door. Turning slightly to look back at Imogen, he uttered one last thing. It sent a chill in the air, and a new implication going forward. A feeling of dread manifested itself within her.
"I'll be seeing you soon then, Lady Araxie."