The shrine chamber wasn't open to just anyone. The doors would only open for people who had special authorisation from the six lords. But there were only ever two guards at the foot of the marble steps, standing with spears that could discharge arcs of energy strong enough to discourage any intruder. But today, the guards weren't even on duty. They didn't need to be, because the core of the shrine's security was simply that nobody knew just how important it was. Nobody mortal, in any case.

As the previous generation's Lords were preparing to end their own lives, ensuring that they would all be born in sync with the exception of the tragically slain Geth, they had found a note from the Princess, to explain that she considered Madir's last great creation worth the risk. Nobody knew where she'd found the totem doll, if the Enemy had left it within the city as a trap, or if Ammadrine had managed to reconstruct it based on her own knowledge, but it made no difference now. As much as they might disapprove, they couldn't challenge the authority of the Princess. In affairs of destiny, she was the supreme authority. So they had taken her in secret, to be kept safe until she was needed.

And perhaps she had prepared for this more than they realised, because the demons did not strike again. Even with all their understanding of ancient technology, the Lords had been unable to discern what had made such a difference.

Now the shrine was unvisited. But they all knew it was there; they would be able to find a suitable vessel for the Princess's spirit to return when they needed her. And maybe, in the intervening time, they could plan for her first forays into humanity. They might invite her to mingle with the biological families of the reincarnated lords, maybe. Because those people, at least, they could be sure had some understanding of honesty and trust. For all the millennia she had lived as the ruler of their race, Ammadrine was still a child. Because she had never before had to deal with human hormones, with feelings that came from anywhere but the true will of destiny. She would need to be taught fairly. And at some time in the last century, there had also been many discussions about Orsertro's role in all of this. He said that he had loved her, but did he really know what that meant? At least two of his fellow lords had decided that the Princess must keep her exploration to relationships that couldn't turn sour, because she was too valuable to be truly free. But they knew as well as anyone that trying to cage human emotions was impractical and doomed to fail.

It was a talking point, nothing more. And the shrine was a simple room, with walls of unornamented pink gold. The altar in the middle held a figurine depicting the Immaculate Princess, but nobody knew it was more than that. And nobody would dare to steal or desecrate a chamber that belonged to the Rainbow Lords, so the guards never had to challenge anyone. That was why they had been quite willing to leave when the cleaner said he needed to do some work in that chamber, and would lock up behind him.

The cleaner was responsible for keeping the city tidy. It wasn't a large job; the anti-static fields rarely required adjusting, and anyone who spilled or dropped some contaminant would have enough respect to clean up after themselves. But there had to be someone who could take responsibility, and the cleaner did.

His name was Cyradin Belmadir. He didn't wear armour in turquoise and jade now; just the simple robes and staff of a technician. He gave them a false name, and nobody looked twice. The culture of authority that the Lords had brought with them from their original world meant that most of the population couldn't even imagine rebellion against that august council. So when rebellion happened, as he knew it would even without his interference, they completely failed to see it.

He walked to the altar, and grasped the totem doll firmly. As he squeezed tighter, the edges of the diamond form started to draw blood. But he didn't care.

"Ammadrine," he said, "The time has come. We are together now."

She had no words to respond with, no armour to fight him off, no lips to speak even. But he could feel her anger, lashing out like a whip inside his mind. She wanted to know what had prompted him to do something so stupid, and why she had not yet been offered a mortal body with which to live her life.

"You don't need a human body. Mine is human enough. And because I already have powers, we will amplify each other. Physical immortality, but also free will, isn't it the best of both worlds? You will love me, and we will be together forever. Sharing a body, sharing a heart, closer than you could ever be with one of the monkeys."

"No," her voice finally reached him, "That was not what we agreed. I will take a human body, and I will find the one I love. Even after what you've done for me, I can't forget what you did to me. I do not trust you Madir, and I don't trust that if I shared your body, you would be able to refrain from trying to tamper with my awareness. This contract is not acceptable."

"Yes it is. Did I ever say that you would have the right to refuse a contract, if one with a human body demanded it?"

"You did."

"Then I misspoke. You were right not to trust me, or so it seems. But it doesn't matter, because you are mine now. Your perfect body, your mind, and your powers are mine to do with as I wish."

"You can't! A mortal mind cannot... Human or lord, it doesn't matter, you can't channel the Immaculate Power and remain sane. Even I could only do it if I walled off that part of my mind, the part that follows procedure and nothing else. You'll destroy yourself, stop it before you–"

The scream echoed through the palace. Nobody could say whether it came from the cleaner or the Princess. Nobody else would have understood the science, the power behind that magic, even if there had been enough clues to tell them what had happened. The scream turned into a shockwave, a hammerblow of sonic energy coupled with a storm of spirit energy that spread through the city's crystals and tore down the mightiest towers.

There was nothing.

Nearly a year later, Cyradin staggered to his feet. He was a thousand miles from the city of Atlantis, but he didn't know how he had got there. He had the powers he had chosen to call 'magic', a quick test of the limits of his body proved that. The powers of all the Lords, linked through the totem doll, and channeled into his body. They would never be able to face him.

He stood and laughed, because he was sure that he had won.

It was some time later he understood that triumph was a double-edged sword. The Princess was gone, and he did not know where. He could reach out for her, though, using her own powers. He had mastery over the veil, it would be his deepest inner fears rather than hers that permitted or denied the ingress of demons into the physical world. He could sense if she was there, and she was neither in the world of the living nor the world of the eternal spirits. She wasn't in the shattered remnants of the Atlantean core computer, nor was her memory preserved in the satellites that managed the backups around distant Mimas.

If he wanted to rule the world, there was nobody who could stop him. But that had never been his goal. All he wanted to rule over was her, the Princess who would descend to mortality, renounce her godhood for him. And she was nowhere.

Of course, he soon discovered that she had been sealed away inside the totem. The bonds between friends were her prison now, and only the revival of those bonds could free her. It hadn't been what Cyradin intended, but it would end well for him after all.

When the thoughts of the council members flowed together, without Cyradin's desires to complicate matters, the Princess would return to Earth. He would have to destroy himself to make that possible, but that was no problem. He could hide inside the virtual space, the crystal throne room. He could fold himself inside a fractal, that nobody without his understanding could even detect. The Princess would not sense his desire, she would not be afraid, and she would return to Earth thinking him already dead. And then when all seven of the Council members came together, a Princess and six Knights, their bonds would release Cyradin.

He was gambling, he knew. But he knew it was worth it. When he returned, he would have all his knowledge, while the others only remembered what little he would permit them. Even as a fragment of a dream of his consciousness, he could guide the vague shape of which memories the backup would return to each of his rivals. And their love, their trust and friendship, would bring the Princess back to mortality for him. Then as the only one with access to memories of the technologies of Mimas, he could reconstruct his armour. With that he could force Ammadrine into submission, and change her mind as he wished. Then he would truly have won, the world and the Princess all for him.

"How do you like that, your Excellency?" he asked of the disembodied spirit. "Even when you have banished yourself, I will have you. As long as I control memories, I control your thoughts. They will never understand in time to stop me. If it takes a thousand years, or a myriad, I will win."