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[Deacon Drake]

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I see you in the darkness now,
pathetic and helpless,
completely vulnerable.

You cannot protect yourself from the evils
of my power and my gift, why do you feel
that you can protect others?

You are dead.

A woman's voice pierces through the silence, clear and soft.

You are dead, and what can you do about it?
I've seen to it that you will never rest.
We have a pact, he and I. And you struck first in our war.
You struck down the Lich Lord, and He became displeased.
You will never rest. Your soul belongs to him, but
your mind belongs to me.

"Who are you," he tried to ask, but his throat closed up on him and he choked in pain.

The last face you saw before you became Damned.
I am your only salvation, and that is a gift
you will not receive the pleasure of attaining.

He could feel movement to his left, as he lay in the snow, freezing to death... then he realized that he was already dead. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, and he couldn't move.

The movement on his left was becoming annoying. He could hear the voice seeming concerned.

Impossible...

Spasms shot through Steel's left arm, as the arm seemed to be trying to wrest itself from his bloody corpse. He remembered the explosion, the gagged mage looking on as he died. He remembered seeing the insane elf's face through the mist and snow. He also remembered the pain of fire shooting through his body as the house went up in flames around him.

But he didn't remember dying.

His arm was twitching violently for over a minute, then suddenly stopped. At that point, a severe shot of pain went into his shoulder and into his chest, similar to being stabbed in the heart with a white-hot poker.

At this point he was nearly deaf with the pain. The only thing he could hear was a slight, very slow thump somewhere.

It cannot be.
*thump*

The bumps were about seven seconds apart at first, then gradually became closer and closer.

What is that, Steel thought, finally feeling the pain disperse. The sound was growing more and more silent, and quicker to the pace.

*thump*
*thump*
*thump*

He finally realized that this was the sound of his own heart beating.

The pain disappeared completely, and he opened his eyes. He didn't know why, but he could see again. The voice rang back through his head, and it went from ecstatic worry to amused chuckle.

So that's why... that's why it didn't kill you. That's why you're so weak to your left... you're... I can't believe this.

The voice was laughing now as it disappeared from his mind. Steel felt the feeling return to his limbs, and he sat up. His body was soaked in his own blood, and he was badly cut up form the blast. A sudden moment of realization crept up on him.

She knows.

He checked his left arm for any damage. He moved each joint in every direction, checking to see that it was intact. Although the arm wasn't his, it was still subject to his command as if it really was his own. His real arm had been long removed as a result of a tragic battle, and the mechanical replacement was infused with Phoenician magicks that replenished his heartbeat if he were to ever be killed.

But it would only work once.

If she has a pact with Oblivion, how does she not know?

It didn't matter. Knowing that Isil didn't know everything, Steel had the edge of knowing that she won't last long with this power she has been given.

As he stood up and prepared for an unusual journey to Britain to announce that he was back to life, he checked his left leg. Intact.

===================================

You're back, Steel. I just know not for long.
Yes, true, I didn't know you were a Construct.
But this is irrelevent now. I doubt that society
will appreciate your lies to them.

But I'm giving you a week to recuperate,
before I come back for you.
I've let you rise from the ashes,
like the blood of the phoenix in you.

Your soul is mine.
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