The wasteland that stretches out before it threatens to dominate all that it knew about its world. Ziègla ponders the idea of creating a new solar system after this one. It shakes the thought off when it realizes how many more materials that would need. But they should be obtaining said materials soon, so perhaps a new world is in the cards. A world for its people to stay without suffering. To stay in harmony, no harm from the outside systems pouring in. Harm that those meek humans are letting in currently.

Ziègla scoffs while staring at the projection against the golden walls of its castle. The projection its scout is sending it. A group of five humans traversing its vast creation. It gazes behind hooded eyes, clicking noises sounding off from its throat. A servant pitter-patters in, the tentacles hanging off its face almost embarrassingly tiny when compared to Ziègla's. It doesn't speak, but it doesn't have to.

"The scout is doing its job," Ziègla says. The servant, not understanding the human language, doesn't respond even in their alien tongue. Ziègla, on the other hand, continues to study the way the humans present themselves. The way they speak and act. Their dictation of the words they sing. Ziègla casts its glance to the servant, shooing it away with his claws. It runs, the squishing sounds of its footsteps reverberating across the walls.

It turns its attention back to the screen, waving the projection off. A blank, golden wall awaits it. It stands, the spiral throne rushing away so it can have more room to move. Ziègla steps down the stairs leading up to its seat, turning in the halls and marching down the archways. The castle provides it with a home, but not with comfort. Ziègla won't get comfort until its plan is in full swing.

When it arrives at the enormous, golden double doors leading to the palace, the three servants placed outside welcome it with a bow. Ziègla doesn't return the gesture. They open the doors for it, the runes carved into them not earning a second glance from it. Soon enough, the doors fully open, revealing the council inside, waiting for it. Ziègla strides in, the doors clicking shut behind it moments later.

The council. They are to speak the human tongue in this room in preparation for their inevitable confrontation. Ziègla isn't sure if it found consolation in that or more terror. Humans have a tendency to be determined and make crude jokes. It wonders if its people will ever do the same.

It sits at its end of the table, the twenty council members of different shapes and sizes staring down at it. Some have the eyes of angels, others the black pits of devils. Some don't even have eyes.

"Ziègla," one says. The one sitting directly across from it several feet away. "I hope your journey back from the seventh realm was that of peace." The dialect it has is strong. Maybe stronger than Ziègla's.

"It was very good, thank you, Azaina. Let's skip our formalities. The humans are growing closer, as is the enhanced one. I believe he may be looking for the group," Ziègla says.

"Do we annihilate them?" Azaina asks.

"No," Ziègla replies. "Not yet. There's something interesting about the boy."

"Park Namjoon," one says, phrasing it like a question.

Ziègla nods in approval as the humans are known to do. "Park Namjoon. I believe I know what his problem is. Can we get him alone without killing any of them?"

"We can try," Azaina says.

"Do it as fast as possible. He appears to have a lover. Ensure the lover doesn't follow. If he does, problems will arise. It will be more trouble than it is worth. I will be relying on you to handle this, Azaina. Do not fail me."

Azaina nods, Ziègla repeating the motion. "It will be done as soon as we leave this meeting. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

Ziègla takes a moment to consider the question. What more can they do? Part of Ziègla doesn't want to kill them, but they have a parasite infesting their habitats. Its citizens are confused. Scared, even. Ziègla cannot let this happen any longer. "Keep close eyes on them. If they disturb the habitats anymore than they already are, annihilate them without waiting for my consent. You have my permission if they begin to cause more chaos than they are worth. But keep the Park boy alive. He could be very useful to me."

"Yes Ziègla, it will be done."

The remaining council members bow their heads out of respect, Ziègla returning the gestures before standing. The others follow suit, walking to the door with it. "If they get anywhere near my castle, kill them all and capture the Park," Ziègla says. They agree to his terms, it parting from them as the door opens. It saunters down the corridors while the council members go in the opposite direction, its servants leading them out.

Ziègla goes back to the familiar spiral seat of its throne, the servants around halting their movements. It waves them off, the servants darting out of the room. Ziègla isn't sure if it was out of terror or respect. It chooses to go with both as it sits down.

The golden walls encircle it, Ziègla peeking around at the runes. The same runes carved on the doors. It averts its eyes to instead point toward the screen. The projection starts again, the same humans from before coming into view. Their scout unit hasn't been discovered. Not unexpected; their scouts were designed that way, but Ziègla is still mildly impressed by the thought.

It comes a bit closer to the wall, reaching out as if wanting to touch the hair on the Park boy's head. Ziègla finds himself vibrating, a sound the humans call a chuckle. It shakes its head, leaning back in its chair. Park. The Park boy. The Park who isn't a Park at all.

"You have no idea what's coming... Kim Namjoon..."