Domination

Domination is an aberration power. It seems to correspond with red color of the aberration’s shadow.

## Effect and Growth

Domination allows the aberration to consume a living being’s soul and gain full control over the being’s body, turning it into a living puppet.

### Affected beings

The ability works on normal humans, animals and worms, but not servants or humans protected by soul-binding, at least not in its base form. An evolved aberration with this ability might be able to puppet both of those beings too.

### Knowledge absorption

Consuming a soul through Domination, in addition to making the ability stronger, also grants the aberration all of the victim’s memories, which they retain even after the puppet dies.

### Puppet control

In addition to full control, Domination grants the aberration access to puppets’ senses and a capability to control even dozens of them with ease, though how exactly such multi-tasking is accomplished is unknown. Some finer motions, such as speaking, seem to be inaccessible right away, but it’s unclear whether they require a certain amount of power or simply practice. Default facial expressions of puppets are vacant and lifeless, but it is possible to change that, although whether it’s difficult to do or Geoffrey simply didn’t bother with it most of the time is unknown. It is likewise unclear whether there is an inherent limit on the number of puppets, since each new puppet also makes the ability stronger. However, there does seem to be a range limit, since Geoffrey was presumably unable to prevent his subordinates from escaping after leaving Brighton. It’s unknown what happens to the puppet if it exceeds that range.

While puppets can ignore pain, they are still alive and sufficient damage can incapacitate or kill them. The aberration can seemingly voluntarily release a puppet from their control, and they also obviously lose control after death. Voluntary release seems to be accompanied by red vapor releasing from the puppet, whereas the death of the aberration seems to cause severe brain damage in all of their currently controlled puppets. It’s unclear whether both of those things happen in both cases or not.

### Body jumping

Another feature of Domination is the capability to shift the aberration’s soul into one of their puppets, not merely controlling the body but truly making it their own, even after death - the power of aberration remains in their last body as opposed to original one. Once again, it’s unclear whether that requires a certain amount of power or simply practice. Due to having the victim’s knowledge, the aberration can convincingly pretend to be the original owner of the body, although a reaper or powerful servant can still identify them on sight. The shifting process seems be limited in some way, since Geoffrey did not use it to escape certain death in combat situation.

### Puppet transformation

After the ability reaches a certain level of strength, the aberration is supposed to become able to transform their puppets into monsters. While this currently has not been demonstrated in-story by an aberration or their bone user, a very similar power was used by a Primordial. From that, it can be extrapolated that aberration-created monsters are likely to also have varying features, with seemingly random body parts changing, splitting or even entirely new ones growing in various places. Besides expanding normal bodily capabilities, such alterations also grant entirely new means of attack to puppets, such as flame, energy bolts and acid.

## Feeding Mechanism

Using Domination is as simple as wrapping the shadow around a living victim and willing the power to activate; the victim is Dominated, and their soul is consumed. The consumption seems to be very painful for the victim.

## Known users

Aberrations:

* Geoffrey Rofal

Bone users:

* Damian Rofal
* Cecilia Rofal
* Dunstan Rofal
* Elwood Rofal
* Jonah Rofal
* Ricky Rofal
* Lucia Rofal
* All other unnamed Rofal Family members
* Francisco Elroy

## References

1. ↑ 1.0 1.1 1.2 “That’s not what I meant. Aberrations never seem to mind pain very much. But that doesn’t make you immune to injury. If your body starts becoming sluggish, you should find yourself a new one.”

Geoffrey tilted his head. “A new body?”

“Oh, can you not do that yet? Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.”

“Really? Do all aberrations have abilities like mine?”

Desmond deferred to Ezmortig.

‘*Your shadow powers, yes. Your ability to control things, no. Aberrations have varying kinds of secondary abilities. We call yours Domination. Unfortunately, it’s not terribly useful against servants. At least, not until you develop it to dizzying degrees.*’ - Excerpt from page 188
2. ↑  “Right!” said Damian, rummaging through his pockets. He retrieved a fistful of pearly white rings--identical to one he was already wearing, Cisco noticed. “Now, these are only rings, so they’re not as strong as they might otherwise be, but they’ll help keep you safe. And choose your finger wisely, because once you put it on, it’s not coming off unless the finger comes with it. Everybody take one. Come on. Don’t be shy now. I made sure there were enough for all of you.”

When Cisco received his, he examined it more closely. It had a polished sheen to it on the outside rim, but the inside was much plainer. *‘Is that... bone?’* thought Cisco.

*‘I believe so,’* said Dennex privately. *‘This ring is the remains of an aberration. I can sense its sinister power.’*

Cisco watched as everyone else was putting theirs on. ‘*Should I really wear this?*’

‘*I don’t think you have much choice, right now.*’

‘*Ugh...*’ Cisco frowned as he stared at it. He’d wanted to become an aberration hunter, but was this the end result of that? Or was it just some twisted approximation? Would the Vanguard have made him wear this thing, too?

Maybe so. The Vanguard had certainly demonstrated that it wasn’t nearly so noble as he’d hoped it was.

‘*You can cut your finger off later, if you really hate it that much*,’ said Dennex.

Cisco took a slow breath and put it on, choosing his middle finger on his right hand. It felt like any other ring would, at first. Then a sharp pain bit into his finger, and he could feel it go all the way to his bone, like it was attaching itself to him.

But there was no blood. And it didn’t look like his skin had actually been broken. It just *felt* like he’d been cut into. But that, too, was fleeting. After a few more moments of agony, the pain was entirely gone.

The others were already manifesting shadows around themselves. A deep and dark red, each one was, which suggested to Cisco that all of these bone rings had come from the same aberration. Though, perhaps not. Surely, there were repeated colors among aberrations. Perhaps they’d all just come from the same *type* of aberration, assuming there were such classifications. - Excerpt from page 1476
3. ↑ 3.0 3.1 Hector’s expression darkened beneath his helm. He eyed the vacant-eyed man in the chair. “Who is that person?” he said.

“Oh, him?” said Geoffrey. “He is my new fetcher. My old one was starting to smell.”

“...Fetcher?”

“Yeah. I use him to bring me stuff. From the outside. My uncle does not want me to leave, and I want him to be happy, so I use fetchers.”

‘*That man is dead*,’ said Garovel. ‘*The body is alive, but there is no soul.*’ - Excerpt from page 92
4. ↑ The prince’s advisor, whose name Geoffrey had still not bothered to learn, was waiting for him at the nearest street corner--as was an enormous yellow-and-green boa constrictor. The man was clearly a wreck, and having the snake at his feet was doing him no favors.

“It seems we missed all the fun,” Geoffrey said sadly. “Maybe we shouldn’t have stopped at that amusement park after all.”

The advisor watched the boa slither up Geoffrey’s body and coil around the young man’s shoulders. “I still don’t understand w-why that thing listens to you...”

“Oh, it does not listen. It simply has no will of its own anymore.” He scratched the snake’s head. “Normally, animals tend to dislike me, you see. I was never very good with pets, but they did provide valuable practice.” - Excerpt from page 173
5. ↑ Dunstan caught himself on one knee, and when he looked up, he saw multiple pillars shooting out of the ground. Each was as broad as a school bus, and when they stopped moving, Dunstan realized that they had *heads*.

Gigantic worms, they appeared to be. Their hulking bodies bristled with visible electricity, and their beady eyes looked straight at him and Reza.

Noticeably, however, they were not attacking. They just remained there, motionless and staring.

Then a voice rang out. “Aha! I knew you would survive! Good job, Dunstan!”

Dunstan squinted as he noticed a figure standing atop the centermost worm. He couldn’t place the voice, but it sounded familiar. He found a full breath of air and called out, “Who are you?!”

“Why, it’s me! It’s your grandpa!” The figure waved a hand, and the worm beneath him knelt down low enough for Dunstan to get a good look.

And Dunstan could hardly believe his eyes. He hadn’t seen that wrinkled face since he was a child, but it hadn’t changed a bit. As little sense as it made to him, there was no doubt about it. This was certainly Damian Rofal before him. His grandfather. - Excerpt from page 1006
6. ↑ “It appears I need a new fetcher,” said Geoffrey, starting closer. “Perhaps I should make things simple and just take *you*.” The red shadow swirled free of Geoffrey’s body, amassing in hulking form.

Hector dove back into the hallway, but the shadow still enveloped him. He thrashed within its grasp, expecting some kind of horrific pain or black out, but there was none. He turned to Garovel, who looked entirely unconcerned--even strangely amused.

The streak of crimson bounded back to Geoffrey, and the young man stared at Hector in disbelief. “Why?! You should be mine, now!”

‘*Fool*,’ said Garovel. ‘*You can’t have him. He already belongs to me.*’ - Excerpt from pages 95 and 96
7. ↑ 7.0 7.1 Ironically, if he were a normal human, then the soul-binding would actually be more secure. It would probably even protect him from things like Domination, unless the aberration using it had evolved. And that was still debatable. - Excerpt from page 3043
8. ↑ “That will not be necessary.” Geoffrey looked at Ozmere, who nodded. He grinned as the red shade poured forth.

The man’s scream died in his mouth, and his eyes hollowed out into flaming shadows.

Geoffrey could see the memories. An entire life--dimensioned and complicated, sad and happy, regretful and grateful.

It bored him.

He searched for the face he wanted to see, as simple as if the memories had been his own. “Ah!” said Geoffrey. “Hello, Mr. Colt.” - Excerpt from page 219
9. ↑ “How do you think I know who your friends are? Everything Nathan knew, I know. And Micah. And Samuel. Everyone I have taken has provided me with a wealth of knowledge.” - Excerpt from page 267
10. ↑ He walked in on a scene of three people crouching over another. Crimson stains were everywhere. Hector recognized the dead body on the floor. Micah Chamberlain. The three people on top of him looked up in unison. All obviously puppets. Bloodied, ripped flesh hung from their lips. - Excerpt from page 264
11. ↑ 11.0 11.1 Geoffrey’s return to the Rofal mansion had been a decidedly quiet one. Desmond had wanted him to stay in Sescoria, but Geoffrey thought he should be in Brighton in order to continue the family business. To his great disappointment, however, no one was here to meet him. For the past few days, he’d had the entire house to himself.

So he fixed that.

Dozens of living puppets wandered the corridors. He made a game of it, controlling them all from his office, seeing through their eyes, rifling through their minds, and putting on a veritable play by having them interact with each other in various ways--sometimes peaceably, most times not. - Excerpt from page 210
12. ↑ He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to shrink into the brick behind him. “You can make them talk,” he said, trying not to tremble too visibly. “You weren’t doing that yesterday...”

“Yes, I know.” The puppet girl’s smile made Swank cringe. - Excerpt from page 128
13. ↑ They all turned at once. Their expressions were utterly vacant and lifeless. “Aha,” said the one on the right. “You look different, Mr. Colt.”

This was, abruptly, much too familiar. Colt remembered these expressions from that night in the Rofal mansion, the faces of mindless puppets. And of the few people who knew his name, only two called him ‘Mr. Colt.’ The first was Geoffrey, and the second was Hector. And this was most definitely not Hector.

Colt scowled. “You look much more different than I do,” he said.

An unnatural smile crossed the puppet’s lips. “Just wait there for me,” said Geoffrey. “We will have a proper reunion in a few minutes.” - Excerpt from page 229
14. ↑ Hector at once knew what he meant. Geoffrey’s puppet man was running at him. Hector stepped to the right, caught the man, and swung him straight into Geoffrey. The pair crashed into a ceiling fan and hit the ground in a heap of shattered glass and splintered wood.

Once again, Geoffrey stood. The red shadow covered his entire body before disappearing again. “You are beginning to annoy me.”

“I’ve never been very good at making friends...” Hector’s chest began to reform for the second time that night.

Geoffrey waved his hand. When his puppet man did not immediately leap forth, he turned to see why.

Small cuts riddled the man’s face, and his leg was bent the wrong way. He struggled even to stand, collapsing after a moment.

Geoffrey frowned. “Broken already? I just made this one.” He sighed. “Oh well.” A red flash cleaved the man in two. Blood didn’t start spraying until his body hit the ground. - Excerpt from page 95
15. ↑ 15.0 15.1 “I see. How unfortunate. I just wanted to check in. I am about to go into a meeting, but please keep searching in the meantime.” A red vapor released from the girl’s skin like a kettle just gone off, and she collapsed to the ground, twitching. - Excerpt from page 128
16. ↑ She was, however, still left to wonder if Hector really had to *kill*the possessed students in order to stop them. That was the only thing to give her genuine pause, but even that had not lasted very long. She had one of her minions investigate and subsequently earned herself a peek at the autopsy reports, where she discovered that suffocation had not been the cause of death for any of them. Rather, it had been the work of severe brain damage, despite only one of the bodies indicating any kind of head trauma. - Excerpt from page 485
17. ↑ 17.0 17.1 Damian Rofal picked his nose as he watched the coroner pull back the sheet, revealing Geoffrey’s pallid face.

‘*Must you do that right now?*’ said Feromas.

‘*Do what?*’ To Damian’s eyes, the reaper looked like a sour-faced jester. The colorful, motley attire had never matched Feromas’ personality very well.

‘*Forget it.*’

“Yeah, that’s him,” Damian told the coroner. “Except, it’s not him, is it?”

“Eh--sir?”

Feromas floated over the body. ‘*Hmm. Did we ever learn what Geoffrey’s power was?*’

“It was Domination,” said Damian, thoughtless of the other person in the room. “Don’t you remember all the puppets he left behind?”

‘*Right, of course. So he really could have body jumped, then.*’

Damian tilted his head. “How many other bodies arrived yesterday?”

“Oh, um--” The coroner stiffened and adjusted his glasses. “There were quite a few, actually. Would you care to see them, Mr. Rofal?”

“Please.”

They entered a much larger room. A good three dozen tables stood from wall to wall, and upon each was a body. Damian and Feromas took separate aisles, searching.

“Most of them appear to have died via suffocation,” said the coroner. “But there were also a few cases of dismemberment and disembowelment. Are you, perhaps, looking for one in particular, sir?”

Damian ignored the man. “Ah! Found him!”

Feromas floated over. ‘*So he really is dead after all.*’

“Shame,” said Damian. “I had high hopes for him.”

‘*This changes things*,’ said Feromas.

“Indeed.”

“Ah, that one is--umm--” The man flipped the card by the foot to read. “--Samuel Goffe.” - Excerpt from page 296
18. ↑ His father was in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink. The man stood facing the small window, whistling calmly, as if nothing were wrong at all.

Hector looked around. Everything seemed normal. He’d expected the worst--blood, destruction, hostages or even dead bodies--but there was none of that. No sign of violence that he could see. No sign of Geoffrey, either.

Hesitant, uncertain, he slowly approached his father. “...Dad?”

The man turned and saw him. “Whoa there. Um. Hector? You’re...” He dried his hands with a towel. “Hmm. What’s that on your head?”

He decided to ignore that question for now. “Dad, is... is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at his father’s face. It wasn’t vacant and lifeless like one of Geoffrey’s puppets, and Hector was silently relieved. “Did, uh... did anyone come to the house?”

“Just your friend.”

He stiffened. “*Which* friend?”

“Oh, you know the one,” said his father. “The kid who’s been taking you to school in the morning.”

“...Did he tell you his name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Dad, this is important. Was it Nathan? Or Geoffrey?”

The man smirked. “Son, I honestly couldn’t tell you.”

Hector’s jaw clenched.

“I think he went up to your room.”

He eyed the staircase just beyond the kitchen door.

His father walked around him. “I have to go to work now, but I will be stopping by your school today.”

“What?”

“You have been skipping class, haven’t you? Your school has called several times, already, and I think I should follow up.”

“Uh, that’s not, ah... I mean--”

“Anyway, I will see you later.”

“Dad, wait--uh.”

The man stopped and turned.

“Please, just. Stay there for a minute.” He moved toward the staircase. “I gotta check on something in my room first, but... just... give me one minute, okay? D-don’t go anywhere.”

He folded his arms. “Fine. Just don’t keep me waiting.” - Excerpt from pages 261 and 262
19. ↑ 19.0 19.1 Hector gored him through the stomach.

Geoffrey was not smiling. Dumbstruck, he tried to speak and only coughed up blood. His shadows all shuddered as Hector ripped the sword back out, taking flesh with it. Geoffrey staggered back.

Hector stared at his work, still tensed to the point of trembling. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

“How careless...” Geoffrey’s shadow caught him stumbling and propped him up. “This body is already done for...”

Hector raised three walls around the aberration, boxing him in. Only the space between the two of them was left open.

Geoffrey spared a glance at the walls. “Ha... you wouldn’t be willing to let me find a new body, would you?” A red cloud poured out of Geoffrey’s face.

Hector cleaved it in two.

The red shriveled and shrunk back to him, making Geoffrey spasm violently. And even now, he still managed a bloody grin. “Damn... I wanted to see my power grow more. Desmond--” He stopped to hack up more blood. “Desmond told me--he said... that one day, I would be able to turn my slaves into monsters. I was really looking forward to that, you know...”

It was nearly done, Hector knew. Geoffrey was down. The shadow was contained. He wasn’t sure if aberrations could die from blood loss like normal humans, but didn’t intend to wait that long. And yet, the sight of his father’s body, his father’s face--it made him hesitant. And even though he knew it had to be done, a small part of him didn’t want to deal the finishing blow.

“You bastard,” said Geoffrey. “Are you not even going to say anything? After everything we have been through together?”

He had no desire to respond. It seemed too respectful.

Geoffrey gave a hoarse laugh. “What if I told you... that I wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore? In fact, what if I even agreed to help you? I would... I would listen to you--do anything you say.”

Hector’s eyes bulged, and his mouth twisted beneath the helm. He could hardly believe how much those words angered him. He’d tried to remain calm throughout the fight, to not let anything Geoffrey said get to him, but this--this was ridiculous. An appeal to his better nature? As if there was *anything* which could convince him. After all the murders. All the lives destroyed. All the families.

The motherfucking arrogance.

Rage came rushing back to him, blindingly strong. He almost couldn’t even hear Geoffrey’s next words.

“If you just--kagh--just spared my life... I would do that. Yeah? What do you say?”

“*Fuck no*.” Hector raised the wall between them, completing the box. He touched the metal with both hands. He could hear Geoffrey shouting from inside.

Hector skewered the box with a dozen metal pillars, all focused with his soul. Geoffrey’s agonized cries still rang out. He added a dozen more. The noise stopped.

He opened the wall. There lay Geoffrey. A crumpled heap with metal bars stuck through it, piercing the chest, neck, skull, stomach, every limb multiple times. The last bit of red shadow shriveled up and evaporated into nothingness.

He stared at the body, waiting, half-expecting it to spring back to life and attack him again. He kept waiting.

Geoffrey was dead. Finally. - Excerpt from pages 276 and 277
20. ↑  Parson waited. A part of him wanted to just attack the ruined building with every blade of wind that he could create, but the thought of hitting the civilians inside stopped him.

But then those same civilians began to appear from the rubble, crawling out from under the collapsed roof or climbing atop it or emerging from behind a half-destroyed wall.

And they were not as they should be.

Even if he didn't pay attention to their abnormal movements or their too-still faces, Parson could sense something inherently wrong with their souls.

They were missing.

Whatever these creatures were, they were not the people who had been in that building a few minutes ago.

The reapers could tell something was wrong with them, too, and tried to warn their servants, but Parson was too focused on what these soulless husks were doing to listen.

The husks all lunged toward them in unison.

Parson and Damian smacked them all down without much difficulty, but they refrained from using deadly force. Whatever was happening here, these were still, seemingly, innocent people. Even if their souls were missing, perhaps they could be recovered in some way.

That was what Parson's Vanguardian instincts were telling him, and he was glad to see that Damian was apparently thinking something similar.

When the tremors returned, however, so did the rainbow ooze from beneath the cracks in the ground. And when it began to slather itself all over the soulless husks, everything that Parson had just been thinking went out the window.

The husks changed. Their bodies contorted impossibly. Grotesquely. And they grew. As big as gorillas. New limbs sprouted from their backs or even their necks. Their heads twisted and twitched, some splitting a part and becoming two or even three.

The rainbow's swirling colors seemed to melt away into nothingness, but in their wake, their work was apparent. New faces were there on the husks, but not on their heads. On their bulging stomachs. On their extra-jointed legs. Or their torn-open arms.

For a few horrible moments, Parson could only stare, eyes wide with disbelief. This couldn't be real. It was impossible.

And yet, it was also somehow... familiar.

He had glimpsed similar forms before with his waking eyes. Forty years ago. In the infinite infinities of Chaos itself.

They had been only fleeting images at best, but he was recalling them clearly now.

Madness.

He remembered, too, being underwhelmed. He remembered thinking that such impossible things couldn't touch reality, couldn't affect it any way.

Ha.

He'd been a fool.

The distorted husks all began moving at once, completely unlike their previously human selves. They leapt or crawled or scuttled to and fro--but it was clear enough that they were all coming for the trio again.

Parson and Damian did not hold back this time.

The nearest one exploded into meaty chunks as Damian pointed at it with a fist, and the one next to it was shredded to pieces by a flurry of wind blades. A dozen more were still coming as the two men stood back to back with only Germal between them on the ground.

Parson, for his half of the enemies, sacrificed most of his left arm in order to summon a small tornado. He didn't want to make it toolarge, else it would disrupt whatever Damian was doing. And the abominable husks all had an obvious heft to them, so the tornado didn't have enough power in it to send them flying--but it did have enough to slow them down.

He could see them struggling to summon various counterattacks of their own--flames from one of their many mouths or bolts of crackling blue energy or even bubbling green acid. - Excerpt from pages 1968 and 1969
21. ↑ Back on his feet, Geoffrey’s wild eyes searched frantically. He pointed to a few of Rofal’s lackeys. “You three!” A surge of crimson shot forth and enveloped them. They quickly panicked, began screaming like they’d been set on fire, then all too suddenly, fell deathly silent. “Kill him!” They all bounded toward the kid, splitting up to attack from different sides. - Excerpt from page 98