There were not as many cultists in the room as there had been last time Seto was here. Most of them were women sitting and fawning over Setesh and pawing at his throne. He kept an eye on the blonde military officer as she approached the throne and knelt by Setesh's left hand. She was much too close for Seto's comfort. If Setesh wasn't effectively distracted, or his hand bumped hers, then he would know she was once a host to a Goa'uld.
"With these weapons I have provided," the snake purred, "we will defend against any incursion from the impure forces outside our gates."
Seto snorted in derision. "I suppose they should defend themselves against you, then?" he taunted, allowing his voice to warp as he lifted his gaze to the snake.
Setesh's eyes blazed. "I grow tired of your tongue," he said, leaning back on his throne in a show of confidence. He waved a careless hand and Seto felt the cool muzzle of an AK-47 press against his spine. Instead of silencing him, Seto's temper flared.
"I fail to see what your theatrics have to do with anything," he hissed. "They are nothing but pliable puppets for your amusement. Why continue to treat them like a caretaker when we both know you're nothing but a merciless slave driver?"
Setesh's eyes flashed as they locked onto Seto's own blue. The muzzle dug harder into his back in a not-so-subtle command to move forward. He bit back the instinctive desire to break the cultist's wrist. He would succeed and it would feel vindictively great, until the other cultists shot him dead. Not desirable. He needed patience.
Without the Millennium Rod, Seto's control over his Shadows was less perfection and pinpoint accuracy like a sniper rifle and more instinctual, wild, and chaotic like a tactical nuke. If he let go of his control -like he desperately wanted to- then he risked alerting the Pharaoh and potentially hurting himself and anyone else in the vicinity. He hadn't forgotten the incident with Yugi's Grandpa.
But he would let go if he had no other choice. He would not allow himself to be extracted from his host. He would let the Shadows devour his soul alive first.
"Have you thought on your options, Nephthys?" Setesh asked, his gaze fixed on Seto. His gold encased fingers of the kara kesh gleaming in the ambient light of the room. Outside the compound's fence, hidden by an ATF base camp tent, and listening closely to the conversation through three separate earpieces, a Tok'ra and Jaffa looked at each other in disbelief.
"Unfortunately," Seto replied, narrowing his eyes. "Though, I have to admit, your definition of 'options' has certainly deteriorated over the years."
"As it would seem your ability to understand when you have lost." The smirk worming its way onto Setesh's face was sickeningly sweet and made Seto feel infinitely disgusting.
"On the contrary," Seto said, crossing his arms in a show of indifference. "I know when I've lost." His eyes flashed. "And it has never been, nor will it ever be to you. The only person who has ever defeated me in a fair test of skills," he grinned, "earned my absolute, unwavering loyalty."
The scowl on the snake's face was thunderous and his hands gripped the arms of his throne in frustration. Thick, tan fingers brushed pale, feminine and Setesh's face stilled. Damn. Inevitable, yet sooner than expected.
Setesh's stared at the blonde woman and Seto's mind began calculating. If whoever was on the other end of those earpieces had any sense, they should start mobilizing now. The false god's fingers gripped the woman's chin and Seto felt a brief tingle of sympathy.
"You," Setesh breathed, the surprise evident in his voice. "You were once blended."
The woman blinked, the drug-induced awe in her blue eyes clouding in confusion. "Blended?" she asked.
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Serpent's Vow
قصص الهواةHe helped lead the rebellion that ultimately drove the false gods from the Earth and bury the Stargate, but he was too late to save the Nameless Pharaoh, his cousin and best friend. Death would have been a relief, a reward. So he lived on, alone. 50...
