“Do you have a name?”

The question pulled XP-E2 out of his reverie, yanking him unpleasantly back to his own senses. Even as the answer spilled out of his mouth- without him wanting to- he took in his environment.

He appeared to be in... yes, he was in the throne room. There were the thrones, one empty with the bouquet of black flowers of glass and metal, the other one holding the Emperor. He looked older, noticeably so. When was the last time he’d looked at the man? He couldn’t remember. There were the banners on the dark stone wall- red, emblazoned with the coiled serpent of the Empire. They were newer than when he’d last been in here.

He listened to himself reply- “Yes,” and looked down at the questioner. The man was tall and dark-skinned, his hair kept short like a common soldier, his ornate uniform a stark contrast to his sober countenance. A general, he guessed from the uniform, but the face- that was so familiar...

“He can’t tell you his name, my son.” That was the Emperor. His voice was tremulous and weak, same as always. But what he’d said-

Saul. That’s who it was. General Saul, XP-E2, realized. He found himself making some unhappy noise deep in his throat, something rumbly and altogether inhuman. He cut himself off when he noticed it, and just tried not to think about how awful this was. Before all this, before he had been renamed, they had been friends. Saul and Gwyndion- he’d been a fosterling to the Empire at the time, a life he’d enjoyed.

That was all gone now. Gwyndion looked down at his friend- former friend?- and felt the vice of command wrap around his throat, keeping him quiet. No, he couldn’t tell Saul his name. That would break the Emperor’s command. No one would- could or should, really- who he was. It was too much trouble.

He was worth too much to die but too dangerous to keep alive, he was pretty sure that’s what they had said when they put him on the backburner.

Again, Saul’s voice called him back to earth, “So what am I supposed to call him? I’m not calling someone ‘Experimental Project-Electrical Two’. That’s horrible, there’s a someone underneath all that armor.”

Gwyndion didn’t know how he felt about that. Was he a person anymore? He busied himself with the idea. His body certainly wasn’t, he was sure. People weren’t built like he was- he towered over everyone in the room by at least a foot. People weren’t capable of throwing lightning. People needed to sleep every night and were in full control of their bodies, too.

He noticed they were walking now. Ah, okay, he was right behind Saul. He might as well get used to this fresh new hell- slave to someone he’d always respected. Still respected, really. He looked around as they walked, remembering the layout (still the same, good) and the design (more minimal, clean, straight lines on everyone- even himself, he realized when they passed a mirror) of the palace halls they walked through. They were heading to the General’s quarters and not instead the hall where the Emperor’s numerous concubines lived.

Saul wasn’t in the line of succession. His mother had been one of the Emperor’s favorites- they had met after his wife had died, and they consoled each other. Her husband had died similarly. They became close, and they fell in love, a rare happening. Saul was the result of that, and he was watched closely because of his father’s love for his mother.