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Gisben made his way quickly through the maze of ventilation ducks. Moving as fast he could well make sure not to drop his previous carolgo of body parts, as he would need them for his project to bring the beauty and grace of a ballerina into the underhive. Eventually, after a long time of seemingly taking endless random turns into random corridors, only one who grew up traveling through the vent system could make since it's confusing twists and turns.

Gisben walked into his home, his hands filled with the best body parts of venomous hound gang members. His home was an old maintenance station that once used to check and make sure the network of vents was working fine through a series of sensors that would be watched by people at the station. But those days were a long time ago, and in fact, the main way in the door leading into the room had been blocked off by the collapse of the corridor beyond centuries ago.

Which made it the perfect home for Gisben, as the only way in or out was the vent system. So now that Gisben was safely home, he brought his parts towards a table that used to be a sensor monitoring station but was now just a very sturdy metal table. He laid his parts out below the head he had left behind until he had the shape of a human body laid out on the table. Though no, he wasn't so sure what to do.

As the one that had given him the idea, the voice hadn't told him how to go about actually doing it. As the idea was to create a servant with the parts he had collected to create one that would be a ballerina instead of a servant meant to conduct a task. He had seen servitors before, and so he thought the idea had merit, but now that he had the body parts, he was really sure how to go about cyberizing, as it wasn't like he'd been given a formal education, much less the high education that would be required to know how to cyberize.

So Gisben just stood there next to the table staring at his project, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to do this cyberazation, when the voice in his head began speaking to him. "Don't worry, your pretty head, Gisben, I'll tell you exactly what you need to do for your little project here." The voice said this time, sounding like a noble woman who was trying to help his son pick the best wine for a party.

If Gisben was honest with himself, he wished this strange voice that spoke to him would pick a way to speak and stick to it rather than this constant switching from one way of talking to another. Though Gisben kept this complaint to himself, not wanting to upset the voice as it was telling him what he needed to do to make his project succeed.

Gisben followed the voice's instructions diligently as it spoke to him of how to connect the body parts with metal blessed by sigils, and so bit by bit his ballerina came together. When he was finally done connecting the bloody body parts together, what he had on his table was a dead woman connected by a strange purple metal that seemed to pulse in the little lighting his home had. He hadn't had purple metal at the start, instead using the scrap metal he had lying around his home. The scrap metal he was using had been turning purple as he painted the strange symbols the voice told him of.

Now Gisben waited with baited breath, hoping more than anything else he had hoped for in his life that the woman of purple metal and scaro body parts would leap from the table with feminine grace. Sadily, she did not instead just lay there as the purple glowed with an Eldritch light. Gisben began to become worried that he had failed somewhere in the process of drawing the symbols on the metal and was about to go over them when the voice spoke to him, stopping him.

"Now, Gisben, don't be in such a hurry; we still have one step left." The voice said now, sounding like an elderly master speaking to his constantly hitting apprentice. Gisben took a breath and let it out, calming himself to be ready for the final step, as he could not let any mistakes ruin what he was making, not when he was so close to being finished and having his own ballerina to gaze upon in all her feminine splendor.

The voice continued to speak, telling him of words that must be spoken at the head of the table above his creation so that she may be born and know who she dances for. So Gisben made his way over quickly, neatly tripping over a dent in the floor in his haste as he made to stand above his creation, his head. Gisben then spoke dark and terrible words that could not come from a human throat.

That seemed to distort the very air with each syllable that was spoken, but Gisben kept going as with each word he spoke, his creation pulsed. His words built up momentum as they left his mouth; their foulness somehow increased the closer he came to finishing until finally the last word was spoken and a giant purple void opened, exploding outward into the room knocking out Gisben with its ****.