The Lilian's name is "Kate" and she symbolizes everything wrong with our present day female populous. She once starred in the Book of Mirrors so vacantly and for so long, her reflection nearly devoured her whole. She is vain and ridden with impure intent, even when sleight of mind attempts to hide such malformities. Several months from now her face would have been smashed in by a ruthless Ayin-mem ganster had the agents not pulled her off the beat that evening. "A replication of her auric egg must be produced outside these regions. We do not wish to harm or extract from her. To force change in a pre-existing vessel would be improper in terms of Karmic sciences. If she wishes to change on her own so be it, however, we are currently concerned with replicant materials we may use in our transmutational projections onto greater patterns." She overhears one of the shadow figures whisper to 943.5. He's fingering a black shiny gemstone xtal about 5-6 inches long. "Time to ship her off to Behemoth club for processing as orders dictate."
He loads the cargo of metapuke intravenous microchimera and smiles a sinister grin behind his thin goatee and plaid scarf. 105, one of the darkest, most ruthless thugs in the Ayin-Mem bunch. He hails from a region near the Ghagiel circuit known as "Malibu-nam" - an equally dark a grim place, filled with malefic chimera mutations of 3-d objects. "Getting ready for the old fight club eh? Sorry I can't make it bros, my Fractal Dreamdeck is fried and me backup tapped out." 105 sends a message over a vrillic transponder. "That's aight, let's go by the Donut Shop and eat some nails." replies Purple. "81." agrees the Owl King and Colonel Purple turning to Mr. Pringles.
The Owl kings plucks the ear off some strange and mangled mutant in an alleyway and pops it into his mouth. He realizes that he must eat in order to evolve and take revenge on other star clusters as it's cartlidge crunches behind his gnarling sharp teeth. The owl king runs a biological processing facility where OSK harvest nanoparticles modulated into Colonel Purple's hate syrup formula's specification for toxick-ORMEs programmed by nanodroid transceiving samuraibots. Vicious, nasty submateria in production. When properly combined with the no-life particles procured in the Da'athian wormhole mining complexes the resulting substance was Hate Syrup, but only when properly tuned. Hate-Syrup is a sort of frequency inverting, self replicating nano particle, displacing all assimilated matter into designated N-Zones. Clever but deadly shit. How the Crumpocrats with their sick sciences ever got control of OSD was a story really lost to time it's self.
Crushing Lilithian consciousness into sigillic form with blinding splendorous Ain, they laugh as though it's all some sinister joke "This shall assure our Great Work then" They stare at the conjoined double letter from unspeakable tongue, shimmering in golden astral hue. Justly and bravely they forge beyond unknown territory according to OSK schemata and trajectory, embedded in psionic code structures non-linearly. Trying to change it's reflection in themselves by modulating that streamlined data points of an illusionary now. The cruel processing dock bays of the shipyards package the auric Purple goo that remains. Annie walks away unharmed having acted in a data point this eve. The harem of Lillian sexworkers meet their madame at the end of the evening's shift. Her Black shadow-cloak sparks with fiery shin and lamed reflecting in horrific anti-light velvet. She is displeased to hear of the little corruption, a scowl and low burning hiss.