Finally alone. Pentergost sighed and collapsed onto a chair in the corner of his bed-chambers, his face-tentacles writhing with unease. His chamber was large, a rectangular room filled with lush, velvet furniture and riches, all adorned with black and purple swaths of cloth. On his right wall hung the heads of the previous Emperor and his family, their expressions one of eternal shock and their rubbery Illithid skin preserved through magic. They were a constant reminder of what Pentergost had had to do to gain his title, and to remind himself that he was indeed worthy, when his belief in himself falters. He had confronted the Emperor, challenging him to a duel of Psionic strength. Everyone in Graglarox, the Empire’s capital city where Pentergost now resided, even Pentergost's middle-class family had thought him insane for this, none could challenge the Emporer or even any of his descendants to a challenge of Psionic power, for they were all the greatest, which is why they were ruling the Empire, and Pentergost was still young with much to learn. But Pentergost had a special skill, honed through years of self-isolated practice, that allowed him to overcome this gap in power, one that was rare during this time. Precision. When his own mind was being overwhelmed by raw psionic power, he could still pinpoint the foundations of his opponents mind and target them with direct blasts, bringing down the entire structure of their mind with them. Because of this skill coupled with his commendable amount of Psionic power, he could overcome any other Illithid, and none would dare challenge him for rulership anymore. At least in honorable combat. There were always schemes by the unsatisfied to try and take control for themselves. But they would attempt to gain power through underhanded techniques and assassinations, creating a cowardly base for the rest of their reign that disgusted Pentergost. 

He stood up and walked across the room to look into a gold-rimmed mirror that stood tall against the opposite wall. His blue skin wrapped around his bulging, elongated head showing his youth through its color. He stood at a medium height and build compared to other Illithids, and had no other discerning physical features other than the thin layer of mucus covering his skin and preserving its quality, extending his life, which was caused by having a brain-rich diet. Something only the extremely wealthy of the Empire could afford. Six long tentacles sprouted from the lower section of his face, and writhed around mindlessly, often showing unwanted emotions. They were encased in the same rubbery skin that the rest of his body was made up of. Below them he wore a beautiful black cloak, clasped with pure silver adornments showing the power of the Emperor. He stood there, looking at himself in the mirror, and thought about the Elthine fighter. Illithids were not supposed to have sexual urges, instead producing children through fertilizing external eggs with their mucus, and could not relate to the anatomy and ways of the slave-like people. And yet, Pentergost found himself wondering what it would be like, he had heard about how the Elthine people mate, fornicating with an act of primal sexual desire that was rumored to feel very good for them. Which was productive for the Illithids, for the more slaves the better. But it did not matter for Pentergost, could not matter, or so he told himself. He had the last survivor of the old Emperor's family in the other room, chained up of course, and with her eggs he would produce heirs with her immense Psionic power and his intelligence. Once that was done, he would be fully secure in his place as the Empire's ruler, his dream for as long as he could remember. He was accomplishing his life's goal, and yet, he found himself constantly wanting more. 

The heavy ornate doors to his room reverberate with a soft knocking sound, Pentergost sighs and walks back to his chair, sending a psionic message to his door servant to allow the visitor in. The doors swung open and his chief scientist, Uldux hobbled in. He was a small Illithid, with paling white skin chipping with dryness and short face-tentacles. As Uldux bowed in his simple white hooded robe, Pentergost sat down and began eating small chunks of Elthine brain prepared by his chefs off a long stone table dressed in a purple tablecloth, they were deliciously moist, with the immediate psionic stimulation unique to the brain immediately satisfying Pentergost. They were presented in a small golden bowl and flavored with bone shavings, the perfect snack. Before Uldux began talking, his glistening eyes flicked towards the brain snacks, and could not conceal the obvious greed within them. Uldux's dry exterior was proof that he was almost starving for brains. Pentergost ignored that. Uldux cleared his throat and began talking, with a soft wobbly tone that Pentergost found he hated, but tolerated for Uldux's other skills. 
"My liege, my deepest apologies for the intrusion but I wanted to give you an update on the soul project."
Pentergost twirled a hand. Continue.
"Well, uh... We are having some issues with the material holding the soul for a long amount of time. The s-soul has too much power and um... destroys anything we put it in."
"You may have full access to the treasury to test any and all materials we have gathered throughout the centuries for this test Uldux. Even try using some Sorok", Pentergost found himself almost spitting the word out, "artifacts if the others minerals don't work. This has the utmost importance, yes?"
Uldux quickly nodded his bobbing head in agreement. Good, this project would truly be the mark that Pentergost left on the world, granting his rule of the Illithid Empire immortality. With it, his people would live forever, and he would command over them for just as long. Pentergost reached for another brain chunk and noticed Uldux still standing in his bedchamber awkwardly.
Uldux opened his mouth and began to say in that irritating wobbly voice, "Well uh... sire, my great liege. I would like to formally request an increase to my brain supply fo-" Pentergost shot two vicious lashes of psionic power into Uldux's knees without moving, causing Uldux to come crashing down onto the hard obsidian floor. He began whimpering, begging for forgiveness, grovelling. Pentergost stood up and walked over to Uldux and yelled, 
"Get up!" Uldux slowly pushed himself up and looked up at Pentergost, his eyes full of fear and swelling with tears.
"You have come to me, your Emperor to ask for more nourishment!?" Pentergost bellowed into Uldux's face. "Do you know who I am!?" Uldux whimpered as a large tendril of psionic energy collected behind Pentergost, rising high overhead and looming there for a second like a deadly tidal wave about to crash down and destroy Ublux, which then lashed towards Uldux's head, before stopping just before impact and instead caressing the top of his bony head. Pentergost continued in a more professional voice, "I like that. You have surprised me Uldux, you actually have some guts. I can see that you are withering away yes, and I need this project completed properly. So you will get an increase in brain supply up to two brains per month." Pentergost turned away with a swish of his cloak and made his way back to the table to finish his meal. 
Uldux stammered as he backed out of the room on his knees, "T-thank you m-my sire, I-I will do a good, no perfect job f-for you!", and the doors slammed shut behind him. Pentergost sighed as he sat down again, he quite enjoyed scaring his underlings.