Page 254 of Scorching the Alien Empire
He’s also not very impressed by what he’s seeing. Beady yellow eyes trawl slowly down me, grimace deepening with every inch of mascara-smeared, sleep-creased, dignity-deprived me.
“Madam,” he drawls, “are you aware there is a bloated lifeform currently nesting on your scalp?” He blinks like there’s an army of stray hairs lodged in his eye.
“Rude.” I snap, already offended. “This isn’t a lifeform. It’s the Divine Cherub.” I lean forward, letting him bask in Todd’s glorious clacking majesty. “Isn’t hejustthe best?”
“Please!” he recoils, face twisting like he swallowed a lemon sprinkled with lemons. “That’s quite enough. I wouldn’t wish to spoil my supper.”
You’ll be his supper if you keep talking like that, you overgrown jelly stick.
“The reason for my visit,” he sniffs, stubby fingers fluttering over his wrist console, “you’ve been summoned by Consul Juliara to discuss today’s... events.”
Then my own console chirps a bright, blinky bonk of doom.
“I’ve transmitted coordinates,” he says. “Do not dally. Time isof the essencewith such... volatile matters. Good day, War Chieftainess.” He bows, spins like a fussy coin, already scampering down the corridor.
“Huh?” I murmur, dazed like I’ve just been hoodwinked into joining the Jehovah’s Witnesses. “Wait.” I call after him. “Whatis this about?”
But it’s too late. He’s gone—a spent penny. It’s just me. My shame. My bug hat. And a blinky, bonking display.
“Consul Juliara...” I mutter, activating my device, seeing the location isn’t far from here. “Isn’t she the sour-faced one?” My eyes roll to Todd above, who clacks in agreement. “Yeah. They all are, really.” I laugh, brittle and thin. It bounces off the walls and dies before it reaches the floor.
With no better plan thancrying myself into a coma,I set off down the corridor, sparing not a single look back. More awkward glances from the passing Smurfs—whether it’s the red eyes, the tear-streaked mascara, or the fact I’ve got a sleepy Todd plopped onto my head like a brain-sucking parasite, I don’t know.
Still, I forge ahead, face buried in the glowing blue map, letting it guide me. Because I no longer trustmyselfto do the right thing anymore.
Somewhere beneath the pain, a tiny flicker of something dares to rise—hope? Maybe Divine Mother hasn’t abandoned me. Maybe redemption is still possible despite my colossal screw-up.
Please, Aenarael. Just one more chance.
The map leads me to a wide doorway. I step inside.
And freeze.
Whirling gears. Crackling arcs. Metal limbs dancing like evil spiders. Machines folding together murder-orbs with eerie precision.
Thefactory. A murder-orb-making hellscape.
My stomach clenches. My breath catches. Flashbacks flicker—unresolved MBSD igniting.
But then—I see them. Bitch Brick. Sandra. Standing in the corner. Laughing. Smiling. Sharing a joke like old friends at a brunch table serving betrayal.
My heart drops. My blood ices over.
No. No, no, no.
Not here. Notthem.Not together. Not when I’m likethis.
Do I leave? Hell no. Why shouldIbe the one to leave? She’s the one who brainwashed my friend. If I’m already a loser, I might as well burn her down with me.
My fists clench. Breath shortens. A fire ignites inside me—dark and ancient. Hatred. The real kind.
I storm forward, itching to wipe that look off her dumb, deceitful,Plain Janeface.
Closer now—they see me.
Bitch Brick’s smug composure flickers into something else. Surprise, maybe. Sandra—my sweet, freckled,brainwashedfriend—goes from shock to bright-eyed cheer in under a heartbeat.
“Oh! Hi, Lexie. We were just waiting for Consul Juliara. I was telling Rocks that story—you remember? When Dracoth turnedyour dress pink by accident?” Her eyes sparkle. She even giggles. “Also, uh... why is Todd plastered on your head?”
