Page 164 of Scorching the Alien Empire
My strategy, bold and reckless, is now obvious to the machines.
Their wide net converges, solidifying into an unbreakable wall barring our desperate charge. The dozen Voidbanes behind move as well, swinging around the asteroid field, bypassing it—while the million-strong Seeker swarm weaves through the rocks in pursuit.
The battle is a blazing dance of blue, red, and brown, a symphony of destruction that rages across the void. My heart pounds, hammering against my ribs, each beat like a war drum threatening to burst from my chest.
Iacheto lash out, my Rush flaring, my claws flexing at my sides, every fiber of my being calling for carnage.
But I cannot.
Here, in the vastness of space, I am nothing more than the extension of the Ravager’s Ruin. My will—my wrath—bound to its controls.
We’re nearly three-quarters through the asteroid field. The void remains thick with glowing debris and darting Seeker drones, their sheer numbers smothering us like a plague of parasites.
Some cling to the hull, their serrated limbs digging deep, scraping against the barrier like rusted daggers. Sparks fly in bursts of white-hot light as they hack at the shields, their bodies writhing in violent, unnatural spasms.
Clever.
We risk blasting ourselves apart to remove them.
Unless...
A glorious idea takes root in my mind, dangerous vines bearing either sweet or poisonous fruit.
Ahead, a mountainous asteroid looms into view, jagged peaks glinting in the dazzling plasma. But beneath those peaks—an uneven ridge, a sheer drop. A battlefield of rock. The ship groans under my command as I bank hard to avoid it.
A smirk twists my lips.
Just a little closer.
“By Arawnoth, by Aenarael—get me off this fucking rollercoaster from hell!” Princesa shrieks, picking the worst possible moment to peek from behind the throne.
There is no escape, only victory.
A deep, guttural laugh rumbles from my chest as I ease the controls. The ship tilts, groaning in protest as it veers closer to the massive, passing asteroid. Proximity alerts explode across the display, flashing red and blaring in frantic warning, their rhythm pulsing in sync with my heartbeat—not from fear, but from raw, unfiltered exhilaration.
It takes every ounce of my concentration: Blurring speed. Rotating drift of the asteroids. Constant tremors from plasma barrages slamming against our shields. The razor-thin margin between survival and obliteration.
A jagged spire of rock kisses our shields like a blade shaving across bare skin, close enough to feel its edge. But I do not falter. My Rush burns hotter, sending scarlet plumes leaking from my eyes, drifting through the air. Every movement is perfect. Every thought, laser-sharp.
Time slows to fluttering ash.
The drones clinging to our hull do not react. Their violent, spasmodic attacks continue, oblivious to their doom. The moment of impact is sudden, brutal. The ship’s shields flare, a searing blue as the asteroid crushes them against our hull, their metallic bodies screeching in protest before shattering like brittle bone. A muffled series of pops and grinds reverberates through the walls as their wreckage is pulverized into nothing.
My fingers fly over the controls, adjusting, compensating, seizing the moment. I push theRavager’s Ruinto its limits, commanding it to rotate at maximum speed. Megatons of arcweave groan under the strain, the engines wailing in defiance. Still, my father’s flagship obeys. It spins like a colossal beast, dragging its armored bulk across the asteroid’s surface as if scraping parasites from its hide.
The viewport becomes a kaleidoscope of shifting iridescent hues, light twisting and refracting off the chaos outside. Within the bridge, the world becomes an unstable swirl of motion. Princesa’s retching intensifies. But I cannot be distracted. My fingers maintain their relentless pace, making split-second adjustments, keeping us precisely within the razor’s edge of disaster. A single miscalculation, a fraction of hesitation, and we will be the ones reduced to scrap.
After what feels like an eternity, the asteroid falls behind, replaced instantly by new ones looming in our path, demanding my attention.
“Oh, would you look at that,” Drexios drawls, amusement thick in his voice. “Looks like theRuinjust shat out a scrapyard.”
His laughter is contagious. Corsark and the Berserkers lining the walls join in, the walls ringing with the relief of a stayed execution.
Tens of thousands of Seeker drone markers vanish from the navigational display. The tension coiled in my shoulders loosens at the sight, but relief is fleeting. More remain, their numbers still swarming like darting red insects, maintaining their relentless bombardment against our weakening shields.
“Focus,” I snap, slicing through the laughter. “Kill them.”
“Kill, kill, eat my fill.” Drexios grins as he pivots back to the gunnery controls.
