Four adventurers, looking for treasure in ancient ruins... They naively think that they can control you...

"Dahlia! Do something! We need this ugly golem to obey orders!" - the loud commanding voice of the group's leader reaches your consciousness, pushing the echoes of your memories to the periphery of your mind.

You straighten up and look at these creatures.

Four naive marauders, thirsty for profit and plunder of ruins.

The leader of these marauders is a tall human male with a rough and loud voice, who is dressed in a steel cuirass, chain mail, riveted leather pants and high hiking boots. On his belt is a scabbard with a long sword, on his back is a round shield covered with an iron rim. His cheekbones are linen skin tone with a lush chestnut mustache and a large chin and demonstrates determination and a tendency to command.

The second member of the group is a fragile, short female half-elf, who is dressed in hiking clothes (a leather vest, leather pants and boots). Her pretty young face turns towards the leader of the group not only with an expression of consent to carry out orders ... in addition, there is something more personal in the look of her grayish eyes. Some kind of sympathy. On the belt of this female there is a sheath with some kind of dagger. A small leather hiking bag is thrown over her shoulder.

The third person from this group ...

It seems that the others called him "Rao".

He looks like some kind of lizard-like anthropomorphic creature with a reptilian face, long clawed hands and light greenish snake-like skin. He is dressed in some kind of dirty robe of a gray shade, on his belt there is a falchion in a sheath. His yellowish eyes with black vertical pupils are worriedly examining your massive "body". Judging by the fact that this lizardman was able (on the orders of his boss) to create a small magical sphere in the area of ​​the collapsed ceiling of the room, emitting a weak light, he clearly has some magical abilities.

The fourth member of the group of strangers is a dwarf, who grumbles something and looks at you with an expression of **** suspicion in his black eyes.

The dwarf looks like a person who has seen a lot of shit in her life.

Ugly scars on her forehead and cheeks ...

A lower lip, cut in the past by a blow from some kind of cutting weapon ...

Worn iron chainmail, in various places of which traces of penetration are visible due to blows from piercing or chopping weapons.

On the dwarf's belt there is a small one-handed axe with a slightly serrated blade.

So, you stand before these four...

The next second, the half-elf female utters the words of some primitive spell and extends her thin, graceful hands in your direction.

Beams of pinkish-blueish glow erupt from her pale palms, which rush towards the central sector of your body.

These beams touch your "body" and scatter into a heap of small sparks.

"This is clearly a spell from the school of enchantment... What... weak and pathetic magic... This female still has a lot to learn and learn... But it is unlikely that she will survive and get the opportunity to develop..." - your thoughts do not at all correspond to your appearance as a dispassionate and indifferent creature to what is happening.

Of course, such a primitive spell could not subjugate your will. The cult mages, when creating such a valuable experimental exemplar as you, provided for functions to counter hostile spells and incantations. The rods of dark blue metal that pierce your ugly flesh have (among other effects) counter-spell functions. To put it simply, this means that only a very powerful spell can temporarily subjugate your will, which most mages are simply not capable of.

"Did you succeed? Will this ugly golem obey us?" - the lizardman asks the half-elf female with concern.

"Yes... Probably... I'll check now..." - there is uncertainty and poorly disguised fear in her voice.

"Golem! I order you to lead us to the nearest treasury!" - the slightly trembling voice of this pretty blonde almost causes a malicious desire in your mind to burst out laughing and tear her weak body into two bloody pieces of meat.

But...

You were created for "special" tasks.

You are not an ordinary combat steel golem.

The cruel creators laid in your golem-core not only rage, thirst for **** and the ability to calculate battle planning. Your functionality also includes the ability to memorize a large amount of information, the ability to secretly penetrate the enemy base, the ability to disguise, the ability to manipulate and lie.

You were what can be conventionally called the term "golem-assassin" or "golem-saboteur".

Your ugly flesh, stitched together from pieces of bodies of various creatures, is imbued with powerful magic.

You (with the accumulation of energy) can even use certain magic spells (for example: invisibility, change of appearance).

Under these conditions, your response to a naive attempt to subjugate your will sounds like this: "Golem to serve... golem to obey... golem go to the treasury..."

You cunningly pretended, that these idiots managed to put you under control.

Let them think that everything is fine.

When the time comes, you will show them all the depth of the delusions of their pathetic minds.

So, you slowly walk towards the exit from the ruins of this room.

Four marauders are following you.

"How good that we managed to put this heavy crap under control! Otherwise, we would have had to drag this heavy load onto the ship... You did well, Dahlia! I always knew you were smart, cutie! " - the voice of "boss".

You turn your head slightly, without stopping your steps.

A tall human male hugs the body of a half-elf female, approaching her from behind. His strong muscular hands knead her plump buttocks. He bends down and kisses her thin graceful neck.

She giggles excitedly.

"Again... Let's quickly find the treasure and order this golem to take the treasure to the ship!" - a disgruntled grumble of the dwarf reaches your ears.

The yellowish eyes of the lizardman continue to look suspiciously after your retreating silhouette.

You leave the destroyed building of the mansion of the family of your past master.

Thoughts in your head: "Killing all these nobodies will not be difficult for me. But now this is not the main task. Control rod is what is more important. I must find the control rod and destroy it. Right now I do not feel focusing impulses. This means that the control rod is not in the hands of any creature. Either this thing is just lying somewhere among the ruins. Or this thing has already been destroyed. But I need to make sure. I do not want to become someone's **** again."

You walk along a dark corridor that was formed due to the collapse of huge city walls and several towers on the ruins of many tall buildings.

It is dark here.

This area looks like some kind of dungeon.

But you do not care.

After all, you have a magically conditioned ability to see in the dark. The cultists who created you certainly foresaw the need for night battles ...

So, you move along the dark corridors to the ruins of what was once the majestic building of the city hall of the Great City of Niellen.

The place where the most influential and richest residents of the city - representatives of the Areopagus of the Honorable Negociants - sat.

The place where laws were made, wars were planned and intrigues were woven.

Now this place looks like vile ruins among ashes and dirt.

Ruins, among which rats and small lizards scurry.

Ruins among which lie decayed skeletons and crushed skulls.

Four greedy marauders move after you and noisily discuss the coming enrichment.

And you, continuing to walk, again plunge into the echoes of painful memories ...

Pieces of bodies of various creatures - that's what you are made of.

But in addition to vile flesh, fused by perverted dark magic, elements of the souls of these creatures were also perverted and fused.

In addition to that male elf, whose body gave you a brain - you feel fragmentary memories of the lives of other persons.

Vague images of the life of some horned and hairy creature that lived in the forests and worshiped a forgotten ancient deity.

Echoes of the memories of a large green-skinned orc nomad, who, together with his tribe, raided caravans of cultists.

Fragments of the past of a tall human male with bronze skin, who was a pirate and participated in the affairs of the cult until his "partners" decided that it would be more profitable to betray him.

You strain your will to systematize these memories and isolate at least something useful from the chaotic flow of "foggy" images.

And soon you succeed...

You remember a little specific information about those who created your "body".

About your past "masters".

Cult of the Highest Criterion.

In common parlance, they were called by the simplified term "arcane-improvers" or simply "improvers".

The cult arose about four hundred years ago among the "fragments"-states on the ruins of the collapsed elven Empire of the Diamond Throne. At first, the cultists were not influential and hid "underground" or lived on the impoverished outskirts of large cities in the southwestern part of the continent. However, over the course of several decades, due to incessant wars, natural disasters and epidemics, the cult's influence began to grow in some large cities, both among the poor classes and among the aristocracy and merchants. Niellen became the first city where the cultists were able to seize power. All methods were used - peaceful agitation, charity, participation in elections, secret bribery, kidnappings, contract killings, ****...

The essence of the faith of the Cult of the Highest Criterion was the rejection of worship of any deities of the old pantheons, in the occult worship of some abstract "Deity of the Secret Limit of the Universe" (which ordinary cultists simply called "Nomenless"), in constant changes in the nature of the flesh and mind with the help of a synergetic mechanistic-magical methodology.

"Adaptability to the conditions of the world - this is the Highest Criterion of Good! Changes are blessed! Metamorphoses are a gift! "May the power be with those who are not afraid to change body and soul!" - the words of the cultist agitators float in your mind.

The cult was a "pyramid" in which the lower members of the hierarchy knew little, and the higher members of the hierarchy manipulated their subordinates and kept secret knowledge. The city of Niellen became a very favorable "soil" for the cult: the weakening of the old elven aristocracy, the crisis of traditional religious beliefs, economic ruin, many migrants, an increasing majority of the population from humans, dwarves and other peoples. All this allowed the dogmas of the cult to become in the eyes of the majority a kind of salvation. An "elixir" for solving all problems.

But the inhabitants of Niellen forgot that the difference between a medicinal elixir and a deadly poison can only be in the dosage...

So, you and your four "companions" approach the ruins of the gates of the city hall...