Commission To Slay a Black Dragon

Chapter XIV: Heaven

WARNING PLEASE READ!!

This chapter contains nsfw, and has heavy noncon elements to it. If you're uncomfortable with reading such content, please consider skipping. I apologise in advance if it caused any inconvenience ;;; I'll try my best to go over any missed content covered here in later chapters.

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It was hard to breathe. Every flow of air had to be forced through his windpipe, scraping along the walls as it did so. Heavy. His body felt like ancient stone, stiff and ready to crumble at first movement. As his vision flickered on, a blinding white light forced his eyes back close. Slowly this time, he lifted his eyelids again, allowing them to adjust to the spinning flare above.

Was he dead? He wondered, a little disappointed at how sickly he felt. He had heard of after-death to be liberating, light and free. The people of Teyvat believed that there was a place where the dead would go, a place beyond Celestia, where one's body would be restored, cleansed of all sickness and disease, a place where sin and corruption had no place to stay. He couldn't help but wonder if the likes of him would get to experience the same wonder at death, or was it a paradise only reserved for humans?

He rolls his eyes around, still unconfident about shifting his head at the sore stiffness. If he was truly dead, then this afterworld was strange, to say the least: It was large and grey, just like his lab, except that there were ceiling lamps shining down at every few tiles, illuminating the room to a pristine silver. Metal doors stood at both ends of the room, and large machines neatly lined up by a wall. Beside him, an enormous steel table was positioned close. He glazed his eyes over the desk, where a blur of equipment laid at random - pliers, knives, tubes...and something shining gold - is that his vision?

Surging anxiety supplied him with confidence to move his body.

Except...he couldn't.

He rolled his head to the side, dizziness rushing over as a warning to stay still, which he ignored at the panicked thumping against his chest. Looking down, he sees metal cuffs retraining his limbs so tightly that they threaten to cut their blood flow. Over his chest was another restraint firmly rooting him against the cold iron chair which laid him in a half-sitting position.

His coat, gloves and boots have been taken away, leaving just his blouse and shorts to fight against the stinging chill of the metal against his skin. The banging against his ribs began to quicken as he glazed over what appeared to be his arms.

The sharp claws did not retract like it did before, the scaly blackness laced with glowing purple extended up to his forearm. If his arms already looked like that, he tries to steady the huffs that abraded against his throat, he dreads how the rest of him looks now. His head felt heavier than usual. He could feel a light breeze blowing against foreign structures on his skull. Horns? This is really bad...

He pursed his lips in frustration, the pain noting to him that fangs have grown over his teeth as well. He was sure the explosive that he made would have most definitely killed him along with the small Fatuus. Did he miscalculate? Why is he here? In one piece? A myriad of questions jumbled over each other, all demanding to be answered first.

Then, from a distance, he hears the echo of footsteps and what sounded like a heated conversation between two people. He strained his ear to listen.

"-I'm telling you, he's fucking insane! You better be grateful that I didn't deliver him to you as a corpse."

Despite sounding sour, the voice had a distinct smoothness to it, one whose owner can only be the small Fatuus he had met before. Unlike the irritated growl of the younger voice, the reply was calm, deep, and spoke with avid boredom. That voice was new to Albedo.