Charumati flopped onto her back in the putrescent muck. Her open wounds throbbed, her bones felt shattered and her soft tissue ached. The stench in the room invaded every pore. A few hours ago, she would have screamed in indignation at the filth touching her skin. Now, as she lay there looking at the shattered ceiling, Mati took in every last sensation and felt gratitude, owning every ache and pain dealt to her by Atosh's fists because the agony reminded her of her survival.
She looked upwards at Cornelius' form danging in her protective sphere. "Hello, Emperor Popcorn," she whispered. "We've had a really shitty day." The irony of the statement wasn't lost on her, and her fatigue made her giggle. She contemplated sliding her arms and legs around and making a daemon-shit angel. "No time for that, Cornelius. You must have swallowed water on the way down. It's not for mortals, you know. I've got the antidote back home."
Home. The building. She didn't feel like the Void was her home anymore.
She moved his sphere to the upwards flowing water and let it carry him out before floating through the same hole. She set him on a table. Varqhed still hung by his makeshift nails, and Mati tore out his liver and ate it, replenishing her energy.
Fresh water poured in from several splits in the Banquet Hall's ceiling. Mati stripped off her soiled clothing. She stepped underneath a cold, fast-flowing rill and washed the filth from her body, purging it from every orifice and scrubbing her open woulds with her fingernails until the tissue bled cleanly. The open flesh was free from contaminants so she allowed them to start the healing process.
She examined Cornelius and found him no worse for wear. "Just poisoned by the water. Sorry, big guy, but I don't think you're augmentations work on that stuff. She lifted him gently and carried him from the hall, back through the foyer and out of the Tower. A moment later, she went through a newly formed golden door.
