Sobek was still covered in dried blood as he crossed the courtyard. By now, he was almost completely splattered in it, arms covered all the way up to his shoulders, chest splashed. The stuff was now almost blackened on his skin, cracking like magma cooling, some flaking off like ash as he walked. The God seemed relaxed, the muscles of his back smoothing like he had been temporarily released of pressing need, as if he'd just taken a much needed vacation or come off a round of incredibly satisfying sex. He barely spared a glance at the cell windows but did take note of Vala slowing. Unthinking, the God reacted, splaying a hand at the nape of her neck and then firmly steered her into the building. The prisoners were no longer her concern. Her duties and her God were. Vala looked much improved with sunlight and proper sustenance, and her continued insolence, if subdued in comparison to her outburst in the the throne room, had quieted itself in the face of his justice, if temporarily.

Her attempt to appeal to him sexually had amused him, but in the end, Sobek didn't have to think about brushing her off. The idea of a God consorting with a lowly human. She was attracted to his vessel, true, but Sobek didn't belief she offered her body out of a sudden faith. There was a devious streak to Vala he could respect. The attempt to distract him from carrying out the cleansing was obvious. It also failed.

Word spread fast of his Will, preceding the Al'kesh like the winds before the typhoons. If that wasn't enough, their God's appearance, caked in blood, was enough. Now no slave would look directly at this woman who was obviously favored highly by their Lord. Several turned their back, eyes averted, and scurried away. There would be no more attempts.

"Draw my bath," the System Lord said, then he was gone, vanishing into one of the tunnels and leaving Vala with the Jaffa and her first order.