Page 156 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“Who,” I snarl, stepping toward him, my eyes flashing silver. “The. Fuck.Is piloting this ship through the horde of murderous, murder-loving murder-bots,then?”
Razgor visibly gulps.
Sandra lifts a cautious hand. “Lexie, what’s gotten into—”
I silence her with a sharp gesture, my glare locked onto the bumbling scientist who’s still fumbling for an answer.
“Well... Iassumethat would be his Second,” Razgor stammers.
My stomach drops.
“Drexios.”
The room tilts.
This isn’t happening. Lalalala. I’m going to wake up from this absolute nightmare any second.
Except I don’t.
I’m still here.
“FreakingDrex-iot?” The words explode from me, my hands balling into fists. “You’re telling me Dracoth left thatimbecilein charge while he’s off having himself a nice littlepsychedelic bubble bath?”
My ears roar with the sound of my own pulse, drowning out whatever pathetic excuses Razgor is fumbling for.
“Um... heisan experienced—”
I’ve heard enough.
I storm out of the lab, silver mist fuming in my wake. The corridor looms before me, vast and endless, filled with space-knights milling about. They offer greetings and salutes, but I barely see them. My vision tunnels, my focus sharp as a blade.
My boots hammer against the polished floors, echoing my pounding heart.
Drexios?
Ofallpeople?
Thatpsychotic drug-addicted lunaticis in charge?
No. Noway.
I can already picture it—him sprawled across the throne, pipe in hand, giggling to himself while the entire fleet burns around him.
Absolutely not.
I am putting astopto thisright now.
Time melts into nothing beneath the heat of my fury. Before I know it, the bleeding-eye emblazoned doors of the throne room loom before me.
I don’t hesitate.
Istorminside like a vengeful spirit coming to claim what ismine.
The guards along the walls snap to attention beneath the fluttering war banners, but I barely notice them. My focus is locked on the massive, bone-infused throne at the center of the chamber. Even the dazzling kaleidoscope of confetti-speed light streaming through the viewport fails to hold my attention as I march forward, each step a drumbeat of rising fury.
Then, thatvoice.
“Ah,Pinkie,” the loathsome, cringe-inducing tone of Drexios echoes through the vast chamber. “I thought I could smell spoiled milk and regret.”
