Manny looked around the facility, annoyed. "Seriously, I'm a goddamn mannequin. Why the hell do I need to take a physical?" He was bare-ass naked, not even allowed to have his pickaxe as two researchers examined his body. The male researcher moved away to write something on his notepad, before answering.

"Just because you're a mannequin, Mr. Ken, doesn't mean that you're able to simply avoid this examination. The purpose of these physicals is to get a proper evaluation of the physical conditions of each gladiator registered within the RHG Foundation's databanks. For that reason, we obviously need to see just how capable you are. Even gladiators such as the Suicide Sisters, who are undead, require such examinations."

Manny rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Can I get my clothes back soon? I may not have a dick or ass crack for you jackwipes to go probing, but that don't mean I like being in the buff for extended periods." More writing. "If you try turning this physical into a psych evaluation, I can promise you, you're going to need a physical, of the therapy variety."

"Understood. I believe we have all we need for now. You'll be required to wear some clothing provided by our facility for now, though you'll be allowed your pickaxe again. You'll find them by the exit, and the door to the first exam will open once you're dressed. The tests will go without a break, and you must pass at least two of the three to be cleared for this examination."

Manny grumbles as he heads off. "Once I'm done, I'm gonna need to relieve some stress..."

~~~~~

The first test appeared to be a stamina one. The room appeared to be a giant treadmill, with a timer at the top set for two hours. Manny groaned. "Oh my god, you fucking assholes. How long is this shit going to take, all goddamn day?" He gets no response. Rather than fight it, he instead simply moved to the center of the testing area, and waited. The ground beneath him began to move, so he moved along with it, adjusting his pace to match the rising speed. Once it reached twenty miles per hour, the timer in the ceiling began ticking down. Manny rolled his eyes. If this was how his day was going to go, then he'd need to relieve more stress than he'd originally assumed. The time ticked by slowly, slowly, ever so slowly. He was convinced that the researchers were actually making it pass by slower to keep him there longer, just so they could get more data. Eventually, the timer reached zero, and a green check appeared in place of the numbers. A voice comes over the intercom:

"Please proceed to the next examination room." A door slides open, and Manny heads through it. The next exam seemed to be one of agility and acrobatics. It was a sort of obstacle course, though a good deal of the obstacles looked... rather lethal. And yet, somehow, they still seemed much too tame. There wasn't much chance Manny was going to feel much better going through this exam. "You have two hours to complete the exam. If the time expires, then you fail."

"Piss off," Manny told them, holding up a middle finger as he watched the numbers begin to tick down. He rolled his eyes and got to it. The course seemed to rely quite a deal on him using his pickaxe to propel himself, and his ability to contort his body as he liked. He didn't much care for the fact they had flamethrowers thrown in there as well, as it just seemed a dick move to slow him down. Still, he finished the course in a little over an hour, hitting the big red button at the end. Another green check appears in the timer.

"Proceed to the last examination room to complete your physical." Once more, a door opens, and Manny goes through it. Inside was a dome-shaped room, completely white, with a single camera staring down at him from above. The puppet man looked around, confused.

"So, uh, it's not exactly super obvious what this last exam is. Think you guys can get to explaining?" As soon as he asks, holes appear all throughout the dome in uniform fashion. He looks around, even more confused now. "Um, that's not really much of an explanation."

"This is a resilience test. To pass, simply stay alive. Or, whatever you consider yourself."

And with that, the unseen guns opened fire. Bullets tore through Manny's body from all angles, nowhere safe, his body ripped apart from the raw salvo. After an hour, the bullets stopped, Manny's body in tatters on the floor. Silence filled the once deafening room, until slowly but surely, a finger managed to make its way into Manny's pouch which had somehow managed to remain mostly intact. Beginning with the rest of his hand, Manny slowly began rebuilding himself, putting himself back together until he was once more whole. Above a hidden door, a green checkmark appears, the door opening.

"You've passed. You may now leave, Mr. Ken. Your clothes are by the exit."

Manny looked to the camera, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he left the room; however, he didn't immediately head for the exit. Instead, he went to go have a nice long conversation with the Head Researcher for the facility....


...when Manny left the room, he made sure that the medical team had been alerted. When they arrived on the scene, the Head Researcher was, to put it kindly, little more than a bloody pile of meat. Still breathing, the bones had been broken in all of his limbs, slowly and meticulously. Bruises lined his body, as though he'd been struck repeatedly with a somewhat soft object, though the damage built up. His face was a mess, almost all of his teeth knocked out, his eyes swollen shut, a large patch of hair forcefully torn free with part of his scalp and shoved down his throat, and his right ear torn off.

Manny could be seen walking away from the facility with a big grin on his face. "Man, it's always good to relieve stress in a productive way."

Mizu didn't exactly play well when the researchers attempted to examine her body. In her own words, "If they tried to touch her, they'd find their hands no longer connected to their wrists." The threat did not go unheeded, as she demonstrated rather clearly how serious she was by removing an intern's hand and slicing it in midair, separating each of the bones with nary an unneeded movement. Directing her towards the examination area, the doctors gave Mizu a considerably wide berth, fearful of meeting her ire.

For the first examination of her physical, Mizu was asked to face off against three synthetic humanoids given data from different gladiators, in order to assist her combat prowess, despite not being a gladiator herself. The synths calmly moved for her, surrounding her and taking positions so as to take advantage of her blindspots. Mizu gave no display of concern, nor fear, simply awaiting their first action.

Seeking to gain insight into her style of combat, the synth behind her, the one least visible from her position, moved to strike her with a dagger, his aim her lower back. As soon as he took the second step, Mizu's spear found itself piercing through his cranium's vertical plate. The spear pulls back, piercing his head once more, this time through the maxilla bone, piercing clear through the back of his head. Mizu calmly turns, pulling her spear free. "Physical structure and integrity roughly thirty-seven percent harder than the average adult human male's, though reaction time seems to be about on par. No increased sensory capability, but heightened strategy and likely combat prowess." She turns to the other two. "Will execute the remaining enemies within a minute and twelve seconds."

Without saying another word, she lunges for the second synth's eye. It moves, anticipating the attack, though it appears to fail to realize how dangerous this action was, as it drastically changed the synth's position, placing it before its comrade. Twisting her body in an invisible motion, Mizu plunges her spear through both their abdomens, pinning the two against the wall. Taking no time, she moves to the first, taking his head in hand, where she severs its connection to its neck, tossing it aside. She looks to the next one, which attempts to free itself futilely before it meets the same fate.

Removing her spear, she moved on to the next examination, the intercom silent. A green checkmark appeared, nonetheless. The next exam was a strength test, a simple exam where she simply had to strike a machine to test the strength held within her small frame. Mizu seemed to glare at it. It seemed that a gladiator was expected to have strikes near that of a boxer, needing a psi measurement of at least fifteen hundred. Mizu calmly positioned herself, and struck the machine, her punch registering at eighteen hundred. A green check mark appeared, clearing her for this portion of the exam. Before she left, however, she pierced the machine with her spear, not checking to see how it measured before it stopped functioning. The researchers, however, had a clear view: fifty-four hundred, over two and a half tons of force.

The last exam was one of balance. Mizu was simply required to cross over a large chasm by jumping across bamboo shoots. If she fell, she'd be caught by a net and fail the test, though she'd already essentially passed the physical. The last exam took her next to time at all to complete. She received her last checkmark, and like that, she was allowed to leave. Without wasting any more of her time, Mizu made her way back to the Night Creatures HQ.

Mallory really didn't enjoy the stipping down portion of the exam. She'd been raised to be celibate, and being seen naked... it just felt gross and wrong. As though her chastity were being put into question. It was fortunate that female nurses were there in order to ensure that her purity was protected to some extent; however, there was still the unease in her stomach from the camera in the room's corner. "Not many people will see this, right?" she asked. One of the women nodded in confirmation.

"No dear, few people will see any of this. It's purely a safety precaution, you understand. We should be just about done now. We'll provide you with some clothing to complete your exams, then you'll be able to pick up your own clothes before you leave." They set the clothing in a pile to her side and leave so that she can get dressed, before a separate door opens, prompting her to the examination area. Her first exam seemed to be a simple cardio exam. There was a treadmill set in place, as well as a bottle of water in case she started to get dehydrated.

"Good day, Miss... Devin, correct? For your first exam, you'll be required to maintain a speed of ten miles per hour for an hour. Failure to do so will result in you failing the exam." Mallory puffed up her chest, heading over to the treadmill. She was sure she could handle this exam. After all, the shoes they gave had no laces, so it was highly unlikely she'd end up tripping on anything. Getting on, she started up the machine and began to jog. It wasn't long before she reached the necessary speed, and a timer dropped down to show her how long she had left. Keeping up a decent pace, she managed to just pass the exam, scraping by near the end of the exam. Once she passed with the green checkmark, she grabbed the bottle of water, downing it in an instant, then coughing from drinking too fast. "You, uh, you can proceed to the next exam."

It took a bit, but Mallory headed for the next exam, a reaction test. A pitching machine sat on one side of the room, behind a black line on the floor. A baseball mitt lay on a small white table, with instructions on the wall for her to put it on. Mallory does such, wondering if she'll be able to pass this exam. She'd never had particularly good reflexes...

"This test is simple. We will fire thirty balls at random in your direction. To pass, you must catch at least half of them. Begin." Tennis balls begin firing out, and Mallory scrambles to catch them. By the end of the exam, she had caught a whopping total of six. A red x appears over the door. "Sorry, but you've failed this exam. You'll need to pass the next one, or else you'll be removed from the Night Creatures HQ."

"But I'm not even a gladiator," Mallory complains to herself. Still, she heads through the door to the next exam, hoping it's something simple.

"Your final exam will be a simple obstacle course. Climb up the rock wall, crawl through the tunnel, and swing across the ropes to the exit. You have one hour." Mallory looked over the obstacle course and gulped. She was still feeling exhausted from the previous two exams. Still, she had to pass this. She had other options in this matter; she couldn't lose this job. Mustering her courage, she began to climb. It was slow going, as she hadn't considerably upper body strength, but she managed it in twenty minutes. Once at the top, she took a quick breather, resting her arms for the challenges ahead.

The tunnel wasn't particularly long, but it was certainly cramped, making it difficult for her to wiggle her way through. With the time from her break compounded on, she had a little less than half an hour left to finish her trial, and she still had to swing across five different ropes. She prayed that her arms would be able to hold out. Taking a deep breath, Mallory leapt forward...





After the exam, she sighed in relief. It had never occurred to her that she might have a fear of heights. Certainly something to think about in the future. Her tails swished happily as she got dressed in her own clothes again, and she skipped all the way back home.

Zalgo stood alone in his test room. A large cube of reinforced metal outfitted with a speaker system so that the men watching him could communicate. Manny had informed him that he absolutely had to participate in these null and meaningless exams or risk the clan losing support.

So he was here. The speakers crackled alive, a meek male voice filtering through.

“Uhm. Hello! So as an alien being we know almost nothing about the true extent of your abilities. Having said this your exam will be unrestricted. This means you can use your powers! But we’re sorry to say the difficulty of your exam will be raised, including the lethality. But we believe you’ll be fine. Anyways, let’s proceed!”

The speakers died off, replaced with a mechanical whirring as metallic squares flipped open out of the floor and walls. Machine gun turrets rose from the new openings, their barrels training themselves on the alien king.

Zalgo opened two mouths on his shoulders, oil already flooding out of the new orifices. Bullets exploded out of the turrets. The alien rushed his oil into the shape of a wall, but he wasn’t quick enough to block every round. A bullet slammed against his right arm, his body rotating with the impact. His skin remained intact, the oil threaded through his body making him nearly bullet proof.

His oil spread out quickly, wrapping around the base of the turrets and rotating quickly, sawing through the metal. The turrets sputtered off as they fell apart one by one. The alien sealed the mouths on his shoulders, instead reaching out with his affliction to find the location of his instructors.

The speakers sputtered back to life. “W-well good job! Next we’re going to try something sort of archaic. We’re going to send in a basic strength test system for you!”

The door Zalgo had came through originally sprung open as they rolled in a tall festival toy. The contraption had a weight attached to the bottom of a pole with a bell at the top. One of the men rolling the festivity was holding a mallet. They left the thing in front of Zalgo, the man anxiously handing the mallet to the tall alien before they both sprinted out of the room.

Zalgo looked at the ‘test’ and eyed the mallet. He opened up the orifice on his hand, coating the hammer in oil. He increased the size nearly three times as much, coating the ‘weapon’ in layer after layer of iron-hard liquid. He raised the now massive blunt object and slammed it home onto the weight. The entire thing shattered under the mass of the weapon as the object at the bottom of the pole shot upwards at an unbelievable speed. It hit the bell, the ding satisfying the alien king.

Zalgo locked onto every living being in the facility. He had tired of these silly games. Releasing his affliction, the godking walked out the door. He made his way through the facility, men rolling on the ground, clawing at their faces and screaming. They were cowards.

The alien approached the door of the facility leader, entering his office where the man had been watching him through security camera. He was a thin man, a white coat placed over his frail frame. Splotches of white frizzy hair covering some areas of his balding head.

Zalgo released his affliction from the man who immediately ceased his writhing.

”Hello.” Zalgo messaged him mentally.

“Oh G-God! Pl-please! Please don’t kill me!”

”I just want the recordings of my exams. I will leave after I acquire them.”

“Y-yes! Yes of course! It’s your property afterall! Videos of you!” the man scrambled, rambling as he gave Zalgo the flash drive that the recordings had been saved on.

’Thank you. Isn’t it nice when your species becomes civil?” Zalgo turned from the man. His affliction returning, forcing the weakling to face his worst fears once more. The alien opened up the mouths on the bottoms of his feet, oil flowing outwards, carrying him forward and towards the Night Creature’s HQ.

He knew the man lied, that he kept some of the footage. He released his affliction from all but him, breaking the man mentally. Once under his control Zalgo forced him to grab a pencil and jab the writing instrument into his throat, over and over until he perished. It was merciful, compared to what he wanted to do. But he was just doing his job.

Zalgo briefly wondered if there were going to be repercussions for his actions. If his mental assault and theft would come back on the clan. Manny would no doubt be upset if something like this was to occur. No matter. If the puppet dared to question him then he would show him what a real leader looked like.

"Ok Mallory, you finally get the controls down?" Manny looked through the window towards the Control Room where the cat girl looked over the controls from behind her prescription glasses. Her ears pressed against her head as she frowned, still feeling utterly confused with the console's functions, despite the multiple explanations. There were a lot of buttons, levers, dials, screens. With a sigh, she gives a nod.

"Yeah... yeah, I think I've got it. Though, can we please just go with normal settings? I don't think I can make any adjustments to things yet." Manny rolled his eyes, groaning. It wasn't a huge problem, but it was still annoying. He'd have to see if Kizu could explain things to the girl better when he was done. She did have a better time when it came to making things understandable.

"Fine, fine. So, since we're going with basic programming, I'm gonna take on two opponents, one after the other. Still have their names up there?" Mallory gives a quick nod. Manny smiles. "Good. It'll be fun to test out this new trick, and I ain't going around digging for any of the older blokes. Too bothersome. So, I guess bring up Mr. Sunshine first." Mallory nods, and begins pressing away at buttons, before typing things in.

As she works, a skeletal robotic figure appears in the center of the room across from the puppet. Manny leans against his pickaxe, waiting. He'd long since stopped questioning the technological prowess the RHG Foundation wielded. It was the type of thing that could only result in headaches and questions without answers. Slowly, an outline formed about the false machine, fleshing itself out and filling itself in until what remained was an armored figure who looked to be straight from somebody's DnD wet dream. Sitting in the warrior's right hand was a sword, a hand-and-a-half blade that shone with a dull light. The dulled silver armor spoke of a past that had a mission, a failed mission, and a corrupted legacy.

"Light, some undead warrior with magical light abilities. Despite the nature of your magic seeming like it'd be elemental, it's typically more of a 'holy' deal, meaning it should be subject to the rules of magic, or unnatural energy." Manny kicks up his pickaxe, spinning it before letting it fall to his shoulder. "Ya know, we've got quite a bit in common, really. But hey, that's neither here nor there. Sorry that I don't really care much for asking your personality be put in this thing or your voice. All I'm interested in is some fun fighting."

The False Light seems to jolt to life, and beneath its darkened helm burn two fierce blue lights. It seemed something about Manny set him on edge, as the first thing he did was raise his weapon towards him. Manny grinned, pointing his pickaxe in the same manner, in jest. Light would have none of that. Placing his right foot firmly upon the ground, he rushed forward, his sword lowered towards the ground behind him in what would likely be a wide arcing swing. Manny snickered to himself, holding his ground. This wouldn't be that difficult an opponent, especially not for him. All this was, was a test. The sword swung forward at an angle, False Light easily cleaving Manny in twain. The upper half of his torso was sent flying skyward, his legs and a good deal of his abdomen collapsing to the floor.

False Light seemed suspicious at the ease in which he'd bested his foe, when Manny's torso fell upon him, the puppet taking placing him in a futile chokehold that kept him anchored to the synthetic undead. The False Light brought his empty gauntlet up to try and rip Manny off, but to no avail, and because of the position, his sword wouldn't reach proper. A strange thing began to occur; light gathered about him, slowly covering his armor in a golden glow. With an inaudible grunt, he released an explosion of light magic from his entire form, seeking to dispel Manny...

...only for Manny to chuckle. "Heh, seems as long as I'm in contact with you, you can't fully manifest the magic. At least, not where I'm touching. This also verifies that the Foundation can somehow get these holograms to use legit magic." Dark glee fills Manny's eyes as he brings up his weapon. "Thanks for letting me know about this. You've outlived your usefulness." With a quick smash, he brought it down into the undead's skill through the slats of the helm, the point reaching in a good deal before it became too thick to fit in. The damage was enough, however. The False Light stopped moving, falling over, forcing the weapon in even further. Manny waves to Mallory, and the hologram fades away. He takes a moment to repair himself, moving his legs about and making sure he hadn't gone and made anything lopsided on accident.

"Should I start the next one, or would you like a break?" Mallory asks, looking a bit shaken from Manny's short fight. Manny spins his finger about.

"Yeah, bring in the dark guy. Wanna see if there's any particular strength limits to this, so if you could, can you try to crank his magic up a bit and make him use it more frequently?" Mallory pouts.

"I thought we were just doing them normal?"

"Fine, fine, whatever. I'll just try to pressure him into it." He watched as another robotic frame formed, the process beginning anew, though this time, it took the program restructuring itself to appear as Nox, somebody who was something called an "Umbraic." Manny shook his head, smiling. "Man, it would've been fun to fight you for real as well. Having two souls in that body? Would've been crazy."

Just as before, the False Nox seemed to jolt to awareness. It regarded Manny with cold, lifeless black eyes. He brought up his hand, a scythe forming in his grasp, a lantern hanging from it. Despite the flame flickering within its casing, it seemed to radiate darkness. Manny stretched, lightly tapping his pickaxe on his shoulder. As if testing the waters, False Nox fired some form of bolt from his lantern. The white projectile slammed into Manny's chest, dissipating on contact. He didn't even seem to budge.

"Pfft, this makes my life almost too easy," the puppet jokes, twirling his weapon. "Maybe try to give it some more oomph?"

The False Nox glared. Twirling his own weapon, dark bolts began to shoot forth, smacking into Manny with no noticeable effect. Manny continues chuckling to himself as he starts moving forward. False Nox dropped the assault, moving to instead slash at Manny with his wicked blade. It was almost effortlessly parried aside, Manny's pickaxe finding itself buried in the solid hologram's skull from the bottom of its jaw. Fake blood slowly trickled out, a look of shock on the program's face. Without a sound, it disappeared. Manny looked to Mallory.

"Well, that stopped being fun. Scythes can be dangerous weapons, but I can tell he was unnerved his attacks had no effect. Made him turn sloppy, and you can't be sloppy with polearms. Once I got within his range, he could no longer effectively attack. Considering I wasn't holding back in the slightest, I just had to go for the killing blow." Manny sighs, sitting down. "These things do feel close to real fighters, but it seems something is missing. An urgency to survive proper. Maybe it's because you're still new to the controls."

Mallory shakes her head, looking as though she had just witnessed something truly gruesome. "How could you so easily do that? I mean, I know it's just a simulation, but it looks so real, and you really got cut in half earlier." Manny just shrugs.

"The only reason I was made was to kill somebody. I've been wandering around without any real meaning for years now. All I know is fighting; it's all I was made for. My creator didn't really program me to do anything after the fact of my mission, and he didn't set me to die. So all I've got now is violence and Kizu. If I go out, the only way I'll go out is fighting, and seems that somehow, whatever my master used to make me is changing." He smiles a sad smile, laughing to himself.




"If I could, I think I'd like to kill myself."

A cacophony of cracking and clicking bones assaulted Zalgo’s hearing. His vision was obscured by nothing but swirling darkness, much like his oil, yet not. He reached out with his mind for any life nearby, only to discover he was surrounded entirely by one sentient mind, and it was vastly intelligent.


Zalgo awoke with a start. He scanned his room swiftly, looking for any threats. He was met with his oil-coated walls and cocoon. He had never had nightmares before coming to this world. Now, he was assaulted with them daily.


A premonition perhaps? he thought to himself.


Passively scanning for his allies, he sensed Manny in the training room. Lost in thought, he made his way towards his leader. Upon entering the training facility, he was greeted by the mannequin who was sitting inside of an observation room. He pressed a button it seemed and spoke to him through an intercom.


“Hey there big guy. Those boys down at the wRHG H.Q. sent us some fun stuff to toy around with. Now we can fight whoever we want whenever we want! It’ll be some kind of physical hologram, but it’ll be anyone in the wRHG databanks. Even ourselves. So I’ve made it a clan requirement for everyone to get their asses in here and give this thing a test. So, who’ll it be?”


Zalgo’s first thought went to Manny himself. An exercise to see who would win between the two would be entertaining. However his mind drifted back to his dream.


”Manny, is there anyone who can affect dreams? Someone who clicks a lot, perhaps breaking their own bones in the process?”


“Christ, what kind of dreams you been having?” Manny shakes his head a bit before pressing some keys on the newly installed training module. “Yeah there’s one guy. Wanna give him a go?”


Zalgo didn’t answer, instead placing himself on the opposite end of the room and spewing oil of arms. He stared dead-set towards the holo-pad from which the bot would be summoned. The machine began whirring to life as Manny keyed in whatever operations he needed. Rings floated up around the pad, red beams tracing out to artificially create the opponent Zalgo requested.


Black flesh appeared, creating hands on the ground, which grew into arms leading towards the torso. However the proportions were all off. The shoulders were made, with more arms sprouting from them. These arms were much larger than the ones it used for legs, more or less resembling tree trunks. Finally the hologram finished its construction with the monster’s head. Lifeless eyes stared at Zalgo, the creature’s mouth cracked with the movement of its… teeth?


Zalgo stepped back, unnerved by the strangeness of the creature. The bot did not hesitate, charging instantly. Zalgo summoned the oil around him and created a wall between himself and the creature. The oil, as hard as iron, could withstand nearly any attack. The monster ripped through the defenses like they were paper. It grabbed Zalgo’s arm, crushing it in the thing’s intense grip. Commanding his blood, Zalgo wrapped the thing’s wrist in oil, producing spikes out of the tendrils gripping the monster’s hand.


The thing seemed to register no pain, its head vibrating softly. Willing his oil onward, Zalgo begun spinning the spiked tendrils. The oil sawed through the thing’s wrist, the massive hand still gripping Zalgo’s crushed arm. The alien commanded his oil to rush forward, slamming into the monster’s chest and carrying it to the other end of the room. Transforming into a spike mid-charge, it impaled the horrid thing on the other side.


Unable to move his right arm, Zalgo watched in horror as the thing ripped itself free of the massive spike and began to regenerate all the damage he had done to it.


”Manny… stop the test.” an unfamiliar feeling crept into Zalgo’s mind as he spoke the words.


The monster looked up towards Zalgo, its head vibrating harder than before. Its mouth clicking and cracking just as the noises he heard in his dreams. This was the creature plaguing his nightmares.


“Stop the test Manny!” Zalgo roared as he summoned more oil from his body, throwing it at the monster in a desperate attempt to keep it away.


The creature ran for him, like a broken gorilla charging an intruder. It ignored all of his attacks, letting the oil rip away large chunks of its body just to regenerate it. It leapt forward, hands outstretched, ready to rend Zalgo limb from limb. Suddenly, it stopped in mid-air and dissipated into nothingness.


“Holy shit. What was that thing?” Manny stated from the observation room. “It’s name is Handyman? I guess that sounds about right considering it’s made of fucking hands.”


Zalgo didn’t respond, instead rushing himself back to his room. He looked at his cocoon, knowing it would heal him. However, inside he would also sleep. If he slept he would dream, and he would dream of it. Seeing no choice, Zalgo entered his cocoon. He feared what would occur next as he enclosed himself in darkness.