Death and destruction, manifest itself in madness with an wet and glistening horror marking the progress. Set stared at the security feed slack jawed. Tracing back to the beginning, every detail was recorded. Set had watched and then rewatched the awakening repeatedly, trying to understand what had gone wrong.
None of the protocols were unobserved. Every safety measure had been followed. Then how had this disaster occurred? The test subjects rampaged through the lab. Tearing through security doors as if they were made of cardboard. None of the personnel unlucky enough to cross her path survived the encounter. Her? There are three of them, coordinated, enhancing each others abilities.
What was to be done? Emergency protocols had automatically enacted. The lab was sealed, no one was getting out, not without digging through hundreds of feet of granite to find the surface. There were minefields, robotic patrols, surveillance systems. Anything making it to the surface would be seen, tracked and eliminated.
Set wondered about. Nothing within the facility had prevented or impeded this disaster. Hundreds dead, torn apart, hearts devoured, taunting messages displayed in artfully arranged body parts. The Aos Sidhe was coming for him. It was clearly only a matter of time.
Set feared for his wife and daughter, barricaded within their living quarters. Those barricades would not slow down the terror that systematically destroyed the lab from within. They had ascended to the top level, then began working their way down. Herding the personnel before them in a terrified scramble for nonexistent safety.
Gas did not effect them. Electrical discharge, projectile weapons, nothing available appeared to affect them whatsoever. Set knew it was only a matter of time. Death fury and terror stalked him. It screamed his name, it laughed and mocked. It searched for him. Set did not notice the urine puddle formed at his feet. He was entranced by the horrors shown on the monitors. They were coming for him.
The Morrigna acted in concert, a three headed, six armed terror. No longer completely nude, they were now clothed in efluvia, gore, blood, fluids, pieces of the fomor they found. The coverage extensive enough to be almost chaste. The Morrigna neither noticed nor cared. There was room for only one thought amidst the rage and the fury. A name become the mantra of nightmares. Set! Mumbled, babbled, cursed as they tore their way through doors, down stairs, access ladders. Peering into air vents, behind panels. Searching. Nothing was going to survive this hell place. The Morrigna worked diligently to ensure that.
A sort of elegant grace leant itself to their coordination. Seizing a screaming , begging Fomor, a ruthless systematic dismantling of the body, casting parts and pieces aside. Then arranging words from the detritus created. They had settled into a system, effective, efficient, thorough. Nothing lived in their wake. Badb, Macha, Nemain were enjoying themselves. Brutal vengeance had unexpected delicious flavors adding a purpose provided to their existence.
Hours passed. The lab a stinking blood spattered realm of nightmares. It had always been a place of nightmares, only now, it was the nightmares of the Fomor that reigned manifest. The Morrigna brought justice, the pure consequence of indifferent evil manifest.
Set was baricaded in the control center. Alone, watching the security feed, while monitoring his wife and daughter. The little girl terrified, vomiting in fear. His wife, desperate, panicked, weeping, trapped. The sounds of damnation filled all of the lab. Screams, howls, agony, fear, pain, loss, vengeance, echoed and re echoed down the corridors. Bodys strewn, oozing fluids, torn open, steaming in the cold air. Soon it would be growing warm. The vents all closed to the outside, trapping hell within.
The Morrigna worked her way down, level by level, room by room. Nothing lived in their wake. They found Set’s wife and child, hiding within an air vent. The Morrigna did not know who these morsels of vengeance were significant to. Else, a great deal of time and imagination would have been employed rather than the swift evisceration and brief snack that occurred. Set bore witness, helpless, locked within the security chamber, unable to look away from the monitors. The terrified shrieks of his daughter would echo through his memories for millenia. The sight of her small body, torn apart, the shrieks for her daddy, A fitting justice bestowed by accident. As it was, a moment of no consequence to the Morrigna. Fitting, Set had no thought of consequences in his actions. Justice served, in cold indifference.
Having reached the lowest level, the Morrigna began a systematic search on ascent. The target and goal had not been found. Set would be found. Vengeance would be served hot, wet and screaming.
Broken, Set collapsed. Huddled in foetal position wallowing in his own waste. Neither conscious nor unconscious, in a sybaritic state between. Neither here nor there, aware only of terror. Set cowered in his nightmares. His mind and spirit forever transformed. Forever marked, trapped in this state. Sanity, perfect clarity is a curse. It is the small delusions, self deceptions that cushion ones mind against the harsh, cruel reality of existence. Set, had been broken of those comforts. No self deception remained. He had perfect clarity, unclouded perception of self, circumstances, responsibility, and consequences. Perfect sanity is a curse, a punishment of absolute justice. Set now existed in a state of honest, true judgement. There is no redemption. Not when every consequence was willingly purchased with no consideration of cost or effect. Goals, intentions, purposes, mean nothing. Only actions and consequences matter. Set now must live, with the nightmare he had created and unleashed. Ultimately, his plans, his actions, designed to preserve and save his people, brought their destruction. Brought destruction upon the world. Damning three races to an endless dance of insane consequence. Intentions mean less than nothing. Actions, and consequences are all that there is. The best of intentions called the tune and paid the piper, brought about the cycles of destruction. The endless dance of the damned.
Badb paused, sharing a moment of contemplation with Nemain and Macha. They had not found Set. Having retraced their path, checking and rechecking the bodies. Accessing personel records, then collecting the heads all together in the main corridors, and counting. Only one was unaccounted for. Screaming in frustration the Morrigna hurled the pieces of bodies about. There was only one option that remained. Somehow Set had escaped, before the lockdown went in effect. Fueled by rage, the Morrigna began to claw and tear her way out of the underground complex. The trinity of destruction made short work of each security door. One after the other, torn apart, they made their ascent to the surface. It took as long to climb those few hundred feet of corriders, shafts and locked steel doors as it had to tear their way through all fifteen levels of lab facilities. Achieving the surface, The morrigna found a wasteland. Salt desert stretched to the horizons. Distant mountains to the north west, vast salted sand seas wind swept into rippled dunes. Dust devils whirled, dancing, in all, a fitting place to match their spirits. Vast, empty, thirsting... The Morrigna began walking towards the mountains, their laughter challenging the desert. Madness, rage, vengeance seeking, moving, fate coming to call. A whole new pantheon of terror walked the wasted land.
The security team marked the demons exit from the facility. Having secured director Set, they had been in process of sealing the facility when the demon emerged. They watched as the nightmare howled, screamed at the skies, then set out laughing . Awaiting instructions, they observed without interference. Having monitored the security logs from the facility, short of tactical explosives, there would have been nothing they could have done to begin with. The director , in a state of shock, began having siezures. The team withdrew, returning to Murias, with the data logs. Possibly something could be salvaged from this disaster. None of them, no one in the command council, had any concept of the madness unleashed or the destruction now assured.