Page 47 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Even now, he wears that same maddening smirk, though it’s smeared with green blood and twisted with pain. “Gorexius... is that you?” he mutters, each syllable a note of agony.
“No,” I snarl, fury shaking my entire body. “His son,Dracoth!”
His lips curl into a faint, mocking sneer. “There’s...” he sputters, coughing blood. “No... mothers.”
He swipes weakly at me, but I stomp down on his clawed hand like a shipbreaker. The sickening crunch of bone shatters the air, mingling with his manic, cackling laughter.
“Submit, damn you!” I roar, disgust twisting my face as I glare down at the wretch beneath me.
Drexios chuckles, blood trailing down his chin. “Gorexius’s... Berserkers,” he whispers, raising his trembling claws in defiance. Their sharp edges gleam faintly in the light as they quiver with his fading strength. “Never surrender... never die.”
“Never surrender, never die!” The Ravager Berserkers, led by Jazreal, echo his defiant words in unison, pounding their fists against their chests. The sound reverberates like a war drum through the expansive hall.
I kick aside Drexios’s feeble hand, shaking my head with disdain. This rabid hydralith refuses to yield. His resilience earns him much honor, but I have no use for a broken lunatic.
My eyes snap to Ignixis, seeking the old gas-cloud’s solicited advice for once.
He glides forward, his black robes flowing like liquid shadow in the flickering purple and green light. His emerald eyes trace the length of Drexios’s pathetic form. A softtskescapes his lips as he clicks his tongue in distaste.
“You bear the taint of sin, the profane! Remove them lest they corrupt your very soul.” Ignixis intones. His gaze sweeps thewarriors lining the walls, lingering with judgment. “All ofyou!” he thunders, extending a clawed finger to encompass them. “Remove any mechanical filth that defiles your blessed flesh. Spread the word to your war brothers—the time of change is upon us.”
His glowing green eyes snap to mine, their molten depths swirling with misty Rush. “Soon, we will reclaim our glorious destiny, united.”
A sharp, manic cackle erupts beneath my boot, jolting me. To my horror, Drexios digs his claws into the edges of his mechanical eye, rending it from its socket with a sickening tear. Blue sparks and hissing hydraulics spit from the exposed wiring, mingling with the reek of scorched metal and flesh.
With trembling hands, he raises the still-sputtering eye toward me. Its crimson lens whirs and twists, attempting to focus despite its disconnection.
“My gift to you, War Chieftain,” Drexios rasps, his voice a fractured whisper.
War Chieftain.
The title ignites a fire in my chest, pride surging through me like molten flame. I reach out, seizing the abominable device in my grasp. It disgusts me. The eye writhes as though alive, its artificial movements a grotesque mockery of life—a profane contrast to the vitality coursing through us, earned through pain, blood, and unyielding resolve.
With a grimace, I tighten my grip, crushing the eye into a fistful of broken metal and shattered circuitry.
“Rise, Drexios,” I command, my voice booming with authority. “Stand proud as my Second, for the suffering you’ve endured this day.”
I reach down, clasping his wrist in a warrior’s grip, and hoist him to his feet. His battered form sways, but his head bows before me.
As all will bow.
Chapter 11
Alexandra
Fashion
“Yournewroomisamazing, Lexie!” Sandra exclaims, her blue eyes sparkling as they drink in the expansive bedroom.
“Yeah, it’s not bad.” I frown almost in agreement. “But there’s way too much of thisstuffin here.” I wave a dismissive hand at the trophies hanging from the sleek black marble walls. “I mean, the weapons are bad enough, but these skulls are ridiculous. It’s like every day is Halloween.” My grimace deepens as I peer at a massive tusked fossil with six empty eye sockets.
“Oh, but I love Halloween,” Sandra says wistfully.
She probably dressed up as Chucky the evil doll.
“I liked the candy,” I admit, grimacing at my stomach. “A little too much.”
Absently, I stroke the too-cute Todd, who’s curled up on my shoulder. “Just like our little chubby chug bug, isn’t that right?” I coo, tickling his plump, rubbery belly, which makes his wee clackers clack faster.
