Sprinting through the hallway, Neron cursed his luck and the dark powers that controlled that place. The turmoil caused by the death of the Herald - right after the beastman had renewed his commitment to the team, no less! - had made the corridors of the Mirrored Hall a very dangerous place. Mutants and familiars of all kind, size and color had started what could only be described as a war, each faction favouring one of the remaining warriors to become the next chief of the Coven.
When Marius, the former Slaaneshi mutant, was finally handpicked by the Masters to guide the faithfuls, the conflict escalated even further, the winning side starting a purge of all the others. Standing too long in the wrong part of the building meant risking attracting the attention of a bored lynch party in search of a victim. So Neron ran whenever he had to leave the team's living quarters.
The coach had summoned him for Sigmar knows what kind of task. After the start of the season, AutoAxpert had become even more mercurial than usual. He coached with a spirited intensity that wasn't there before. Outside the field, however, he seemed even more sullen and passive than before. It was actually a trend he had noticed after Horok's demise: the meeting of the three was a regular occurance, with the coach setting goals and plans to, as he put it: "Outsmart the Harbinger and his damned crew of wannabe warlocks", but once his right-hand tzaangor kicked the bucket AutoAxpert became more and more depressed, seldom leaving his quarters outside the training sessions and not bothering anymore with his little conspiracy.

As far as he was concerned, Neron has had enough. No matter what the manager would tell him that night, he was out of there. The problem, now, was getting to the coach's room; the beastman had long understood that the Hall worked differently, and that no matter what turn he took, he would've gotten where the building wanted him to be. However, he never had to wait this long to get from point A to point B, but that night it seemed to take forever. He scampered through hallway each stranger than the previous one.
He made a point not to remember any details. One thing he had learnt from his teammates was that reflecting on what was inside the Hall was not a good idea. But at one point he had to stop and take a breath. He was completely and thoroughly lost, but at least he couldn't hear the usual noise from the familiars. Actually, the silence was almost eerie. The room seemed to have been abandoned for a long time, with a thick layer of dust covering all the furniture and floor. He leaned on a wall, wondering what to do next.

"Who's there?" asked a feeble voice from a nearby door. Taken by surprise, Neron let out a yelp and stumbled towards a worm-eaten cupboard.
"Don't be afraid! I don't receive many visits so sorry if I have startled you. Come, come! First door on the left."
Neron cautiously walked through the door. At the center of the room, a pillar made of what could only be described as a fusion of muscle tissue and crystal started talking again.

"Yeah, sorry for the mess. As you can see I couldn't tidy up my room in the last... uh... 100 years seems to be a good estimate."
"EEP"
"Ah, my appearance. Yes, kinda unsettling, isn't it? I'm more human than you though, my furry friend. And much more well-mannered, I must say. I was a university professor, after all."
The column started to vibrate, like a guitar string. Neron tried again to find the right words.
"EEP"
"Now, now. Recollect yourself, young man. What brings you here?"
"I- er- you-"
"Fiiiine. Let me see if I can still do the trick. Hmm, a Blood Bowl player? Interesting venture for the Masters, that's surprising. Oh, an Imperial-raised tzaangor! What a delicious oddity! And deeper inside, the seed of a curse. The Deep One seldom leaves a prey once it tastes blood, but a follower of Tzeentch is as hard to catch as water itself. And a desire to run, not just from me but from the Mirrored Hall. HA! Good luck with that!"
"How-"
"How am I reading your mind, you say? Staying here I learned a trick or two, young one. I gotta say, I kinda like you. So, before I send you on your way - third door on the right, then first on the left - here's a little wisdom concerning your situation. I was once like you, I thought I could manage the risk and the power that this place carries. But Change is like the tide - I know you have already heard this one, it's one of their favourite metaphors. You can search the seabed for treasures while the tide is ebbing, but it never takes long for the waves to rise once more. So it must come a time when you must admit to yourself that the waters around you have grown, and that the sandbanks you once thought safe aren't there anymore. The solution? Run, as fast as you can, before you drown."
"WHAT"
"Mmmh, maybe it's a bit too early for you to understand this advice? It's been a while since the last time the sequence of events had any importance. Bah, shoo, shoo! Time is of the essence. You might find me here again, if the Fate will make us meet again."

Neron ran in a panic. That was the kind of things he wanted to forget immediately, but it was no use. Following the instructions almost subconsciously, he found himself outside the coach's quarters. He barged in.

"Ah, Neron, good to see you. I have a plan!"
"Oh, nononono, I don't want anything to do with your plans and your scheming! I'm out of here! I'm not a pawn in your stupid power games and I'M BEGINNING TO LOSE MY MIND, SO I AM OUT OF HERE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, YOU DRUNK PIECE OF SHIT? YOU CAN'T WIN! THEY ARE ALWAYS A STEP AHEAD OF YOU! JUST ACCEPT THE FACT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"
AutoAxpert froze for a second. Neron was breathing heavily. He just didn't care anymore. He just wanted to be back home. The man got closer, staring the beastman in the eyes.
"Losing? Oh, I'm afraid you're very, very wrong."
"Come on, this is not a matter of games anymore, coach! Who cares about CIBBL? I'm talking about our lives, here! We're just being used until we're no longer needed! No one is safe, not even Do Galaad!"
"Yes, that's what I'm talking about, too. You might want to take a seat, you look stressed."
Neron panted and crashed on a nearby chair.
"I'm sorry for lashing at you like that, mister, but we've gotta get out of this hellish place! I-"
AutoAxpert walked behind him.
"Do Galaad. What do you think about his death?"
The man's voice was cold as ice.
"W-what?"
"Such unfortunate circumstances, no? If only the apothecary could save that nasty injury, he would still be guiding us towards triumph over the enemies of the Coven..."
The beastman started sweating cold. AutoAxpert leaned closer to his ears, whispering.

"It's amazing what a little money in the right pockets can do, isn't it?"

Neron jumped up from his seat, eyes wide open.
"Yes, don't act so surprised. I'm a Blood Bowl coach, I can play the game too."
"OhSigmarohSigmarohSigmar we're so screwed!"
"I wouldn't worry about that. I guess that if the Masters or their servant had anything to object I would have already paid the consequences. Now what was that nonsense about leaving you were talking about before?"
"I just want to go home..." Neron cried.
AutoAxpert started to excitedly wander around the room
"Pfah! I don't think so, dear Neron. We have so much to do! GREAT THINGS! Galaad told you about sides and picking them, no? Well, I chose for you! Much easier and efficient! We can talk about it in the morning, you don't look like you're in the right mood tonight. Sleep well!"
He then shoved the poor tzaangor out of the door. Still in shock, Neron turned around to see the man smiling like a maniac with two thumbs up held high.
"GREAT THINGS!" he shouted once again, slamming the door shut.

The beastman stood there, in a dazed stupor. A formidable headache started to pierce his brain. He gasped for air, with a liquid weight on his ribcage.

"Shit. I'm already drowning."