Page 39 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Massive warships lumber into view, their brutal forms unmistakable.Voidbanes. Unlike Battlebarges, these vessels are pure instruments of war, bristling with plasma cannons and designed for combat alone. Six of them drift through the lattice like metallic mountains adrift in space, their hulking frames imposing.
They fall into formation alongside my fleet, their weapons bristling with silent menace, all pointed in our direction.
They greet us not as allies but as oppressors, imposing their dominance as one places a boot on a defeated enemy’s neck. Rage coils in my chest.It reeks of submission. My every instinct demands I reject this... thisarrangement.But the cost is too high. There’s no turning back now.
A burst of static crackles through the comms, breaking the tense silence and drawing every gaze to Nexarn’s glowing terminal. This time, the sound is different—not the ear-piercing shriek of before, but a faint, insidious whisper that seems to crawl into my mind, leaving icy trails in its wake.
“Nexarn, their meaning?” I ask, my voice taut, as though we are traversing the jaws of a hungry venefex.
“There is no meaning,” Nexarn replies, his green eyes sweeping across the neon runes. “Just noise, War Chieftain.”
“No meaning!” Ignixis echoes, doubling over as another fit of deranged laughter seizes him, as if he just heard the funniest joke in the universe.
The comms erupt again, the whispering static laced with what almost sounds like mocking laughter, faint and hidden within its jarring audio. A chill prickles at the back of my neck.
“I don’t like it,” Princesa says, her voice tight. She scans the bridge, her silver eyes flickering with unease. “It’s super creepy. Poor Todd’s shaking in his wee boots.” She strokes her cyloillar absentmindedly.
“Nexarn, silence all comms,” I order, cutting through another burst of alien noise that threatens to drown me in its malignance.
Nexarn’s green eyes meet mine, his face a blank slate, as if he too is a machine. “The comms are silenced, War Chieftain,” he utters, his tone without any emotion.
“Clearly, they are not!” I roar, my voice reverberating through the command bridge as more haunting static echoes around us, lingering like mocking spirits. In a surge of fury, I rush to Nexarn’s console, sweeping him aside with a single powerful motion.
My crimson eyes dart over the glowing runes, searching for answers. The truth sends a chill through me—the comms are indeed disabled.
“What is this?” My ire shifts sharply to Ignixis, the one who always speaks in riddles cloaked as wisdom. “Explain!”
He glides forward, his black robes billowing in his wake as his gaze sweeps over the console.
“Well, it appears to be a disabled comm, young Dracoth,” he drawls, the faintest smirk twitching at his lips. Around us, the intrusive ghostly whisperings persist, as if mocking my frustration. “Ah, another mystery put to rest.”
Rage boils over, twisting into a feral snarl as theRushfloods my veins, demanding his death. “You!” I bellow, closing the distance in a murderous blur. My hands clamp around Ignixis’s collar, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. “You led me here! To this trap!”
He dangles in my grasp, his smirk unwavering, a serene defiance in his eyes that only fuels my fury.
“Answer me plainly, or I swear I will slowly peel your precious sacred words from your flesh and lay them bare for Princesa to study at her leisure!” My snarling breath brushes his face, my grip tightening with every heartbeat.
Ignixis’s smirk fades into a solemn expression that lacks any trace of fear.
How does he not balk? When only recently he was as craven as a znat? Was that also an illusion, more lies?
“What would you have me explain,boy?” He lingers on the last word with mockery. “That in a universe where Gods impose their wills, where a willful child harnesses the power of suns...” His sharp gaze shifts to Princesa, standing nearby with a raised brow and an almost amused curiosity. “...or bonds that defy all logic, endless cycles through long-forgotten ages that thread across countless realities. Preordained destinies that converge to these very moments.”
My grip falters, the weight of his words clawing at my resolve. He sees it, and his smirk fades, replaced by something solemn, almost pitying. Slowly, I lower him until his feet touch the ground.
Ignixis exhales loudly, his wizened hand rising to rest lightly on my shoulder. “In such worlds, son, there exists our molten Arawnoth, the God of creation, and the other lesser Gods,” he begins, his voice soft but deliberate. “And there exists another—an unending, dreamless night, devoid of meaning. The unbreath of life itself.”
Another God? Like the Void Bringer from the Mortakin-Tok?
“Isn’t that like one of the sacred tenets, though?” Princesa interrupts, her voice uncharacteristically calm, her curiosity as sharp as her wit. “‘The secret of life is the embrace of death,’” she recites as if reading the runes on Ignixis’s weathered forehead.
Ignixis barks a sharp, sardonic laugh. “You blaspheme, child,” he says, more amused than annoyed. “No. Death exists only because life exists, and life flourishes only in the presence of death. But the Profane brings something else.” His gaze darkens, his voice dipping into a grave whisper. “The end of all things. No life. No death. No cycle. Only silence.”
Princesa’s gaze drops, her face scrunched in thought. Ignixis’s sharp, probing eyes snap to mine. “This is the price of your father’s glory. Though he knew not the cost, so blinded by his material ignorance. I wonder, knowing this—what will you choose now?”
“You speak of choices,” I growl, my gaze shifting to the viewport. Ahead, more Seeker drones converge, filling gaps in the pulsing, crimson-lit path they weave for us. “Yet you waited until now to reveal this crucial information. It was you who made this choice,Elder.”
The horizon transforms as planets loom into view, each enmeshed in the impossibly vast lattice of square drones and their glowing, pulsing energy beams.
