The first thing Viira noticed once she regained consciousness was the cold.

The corrupted plains of Barrad were a cold and inhospitable place in the best of times; however, that was nothing compared to the feeling currently washing over her. It was not just a lack of heat; it was as if the very warmth of life was being sucked out of her bones by the surrounding terrain. The very concept of life itself was not welcome. However, despite all of this, she did not feel herself shiver. She lifted her hoof to her head, her eyes still slammed shut as a deep ache stabbing through her brain.

However, instead of the familiar comforting feeling of her hoof against her temples, her eyes shot open as she felt multiple sharp daggers digging into her skull. Once her eyes were open, she was shocked to see that in the place of her hooves, there lay a set of... Claws? Swiftly eyeing up her body, she very quickly realized it was not, in fact, her body. In the place where she should have been, lay the lower half of a griffon. Her feathers buried beneath a coating of bronze armor, an emblem engraved into the chestplate; however, it was so caked in what Viira could only presume was dried blood that she could not make out what nation her new vessel once belonged to; however, it was clearly long before her time. Rubbing her pounding head, this time making accommodations for her new claws, she looked around the area for any sign of life. But, she could hardly see 20 feet ahead; the area smothered in an unnatural fog.

"I do hope that the vessel is to your liking, my godess."

Leopold's voice suddenly rang out from seemingly nowhere, yet simultaneously from everywhere. It was as if his words were being directly carved into her mind, a feeling she was not used to being on the other side of.

"Fear not; however, your material shell is completely safe; my warriors have assured that. With that out of the way, may I have the honor of welcoming you to... The 4 hearts of iron!"

Suddenly the world exploded into view, the fog vanishing on command in a blinding flash. Her new, much more sensitive griffin eyes taking some time to adjust to their new found freedom from their foggy prison. She was in the air. However, she was not flying, she was seemingly on some sort of platform that was suspended by some sort of magic. Beneath her was... Oblivion. Seeing the real thing up close, quite frankly, her floors did not even come close. It was not just black; it was empty. True, uncorrupted emptiness. Staring into it made something inside her tug, as if the void were trying to suck something out of her in an attempt to remedy its unnatural existence.

Forcing herself to rip her gaze away from the void below, she turned her attention to her surroundings. There were five other platforms, all seemingly identical to hers, hovering around the area; however, as far as she could tell, hers was the only one showing any signs of life. Inspecting the platform itself, in the center lay a circular slab of stone, presumably some kind of table, judging by the accompanying chair. On both sides of the table lay two identical blue buttons, with the top containing a larger red one.

"Now, please allow me to demonstrate how this works."

After a few seconds, the lines carved into the table began to glow a faint red before they started moving. The grooves in the stone twisting like worms as they eagerly began to form a picture of... Griffonia?

"This is the map selection. Could you please press one of the two buttons?"

Her curiosity only rising higher, she pressed the button on the right. Suddenly, the lines sprung back to life, swarming across the smooth stone surface until finally coming to rest in the shape of the Imperial City, the capital of the republic.

"Our simulator is capable of running a number of locations, from historical battles of the past to hypothetical battles our generals may face in the future. Please, go ahead and pick one you like the look of."

Viira tapped the button again and again, taking in her options. Lake city, Skyfall, Falcor, Magehold... It seemed as if every major city in Griffonia was on this thing, but as she was mindlessly scrolling, she paused. She did not know why she had paused, the scene itself looked pretty plain. The battle of Cordenons. One of Arantigos's early feats, him and his legions beating back an ambush of tribals during his march east while outnumbered 4-1. She did not know what drew her to it, but something inside of her was insisting this was the one.

"Oh? A very interesting choice, my goddess. If you are certain this is the battle, please hit the red button."

She considered continuing her scrolling for awhile longer, but ultimately decided that she wasn't likely to find anything better, so giving in to that strange part of her mind, she pressed the red button. Upon pressing it, there was a groan. Not from any person or creature, but from the very earth itself. Slowly, out of the void began to rise... Trees? Their tops penetrating the impossible barrier of nothingness, soon to follow were the rocks, the water, and then the very ground itself. Within a matter of minutes, Viira had gone from being surrounded by nothingness to flying over a thick griffonian forest. She could almost believe she was back in her home realm if it were not for the unending cold drilling into her very being. Yet, despite this unnatural cold, there was no sign of frost of any kind.

"Now, for this demonstration, we shall only use a small number of troops, as a proof of concept. Let's say... 100."

Suddenly, Viira found herself on the forest floor. She did not have even the faintest idea of how she got down there; one second she was miles above the treetops, and in a blink she was down here. She did not have time to ponder this question, however, as the ground began to shake around her. Suddenly, dozens of claws began to rip themselves free from their earthly tomb. Viira examined the strange sight with curiosity. The birds that emerged were clad in armor not unlike hers, a full bronze, although despite being buried in the earth not long ago, it seemingly kept its shine. Their weapons in similar, unnaturally good condition. What was not in condition, however, were the griffins themselves. On the outside, they were perfectly fine. You could easily mistake them for any other griffins... if not for the eyes. Looking into their eyes, there was no glint of life. No thoughts, no feelings—it was as if she were back to staring at the void once again. They were hollow, a mockery of life, albeit a rather convincing one.

"These, my goddess, are your men. They are... on loan, for the purposes of this game-"

"SIMULATION!"

Interrupted Asinti, who had apparently reached his limit of how long he could maintain the role of silent spectator.

"... Simulation. Your objective is easy: defeat the enemy. How you go about that, however, is entirely up to you, my goddess. Have fun."

And with that, the two voices had gone silent. She turned to examine her men—500 in total. More than enough to destroy whatever forest rabble Leopold had softballed her with. Suddenly, her ears caught the sound of rustling. A goblin, armed with little more than a primitive spear, jumped out of the bushes. Acting with warrior reflexes she did not even know she had, her muscles drew her bronze blade from its scabbard, slamming it between the ribs of the small ambusher. The goblin let out a screech and then lay meekly, impaled upon her blade. Their ambush foiled, the goblins, 200 in total, charged out of the bushes. It would appear that "kill the important one first" was the limit of their tactical prowess.

She then spent the next 20 minutes barking orders at her troops, keeping them in formation throughout the fight. Although the fight was very one sided, the short, stubby creatures were hardly ever able to get a swing in before being ran through by the much longer Griffin blades and spears. She could not help but begin to feel her heart race. She never had this feeling in her living wars, yet down here, it was as if every fiber of her being lived for the thrill of the fight.

"I remember that feeling. Victory is a drug quite like no other, is it not?"

Viira froze. Thankfully, the last of the goblins had already broken ranks, her legions chasing them down. Who had said that? It was the same feeling as when Leopold spoke, yet it felt more... personal. It was as if somebody else's thought had been produced by her brain. It was then that she noticed him. In her mind, there were always two entities. Herself and her second mind. Yet, as she checked her mental space closer, she felt a third entity. This one was new.

"I offer thee mine own apologies for the fright, I did not wisheth to inturrupt thou while yee were experiencing the throes of battle"

"Identify yourself immediately, spirit!"

Viira shouted into her own mind. Nobody had ever entered her thoughts without her consent before, and she found the idea of somebody else having influence in her mind quite repulsive.

"Me? i knoweth not how the annels of history remembers me. In mine own time, i wast called many a title. Warlord, savior, conqueror, devil, but in truth, i am little more than an addict, not unlike thouself. "

"Do not presume to know me, worm! Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?"

Viira snapped furiously at the disembodied voice, her body shaking with rage. Spirit or not, nobody could dare speak to a goddess this way!

"I will admit, I hast not an idea as to who thou are. However, I knoweth perfectly WHAT thou are. In that, we are shamefully alike. However, I must profess, thou has chosen a much more potent drug than I."

"Congratulations on your victory, godess! Please give me a second to begin the retrieval process."

Leopold's voice rang out once again, but despite being beamed directly within the confines of her brain, it was little more than a distant echo compared to the booming waves of rage directed towards the mysterious voice in her head.

"YOU KNOW NOTHING OF ME, DEMON! YOUR FAILURE MEANS NOTHING TO ME!"

At that, the disembodied voice offered up only a small chuckle.

"Thou art not the first to call me devil, nor art thou the first to liveth in denial of her true nature. And nay, i did not fail. Perhaps fate would smile upon me more if i hadst the courage to alloweth the blood stains upon my honor to be my own."

As she looked down at the blood caked logo on her chest, she suddenly started to feel somewhat lightheaded. Her grasp on the vessel she was inhabiting was growing weaker, and in turn, the disembodied voice grew stronger.

"Prithee, doth not taketh my words incorrectly. I am not judging thou, nay, I am advising thou to indulge upon thou vice as deeply and greedily as possible. After all..."

She began to feel her mind fading, as if her very being were being extracted from her body. However, just before she lost consciousness all together, she saw a bird. It was her vessel, and he stood there, smiling at her.

"Nay matter the vice, sooner or later we all endeth up in the same lodging. Thee've just made it here a little early."

Arantigos Featherin stared at the self proclaimed goddess one last time, his eyes filled with nothing but pity for the fool as her consciousness faded away from his body.

Author's Note

Chapter 2 done :). Same story as the first, any criticism is always welcome!