Page 91 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“That’s not true. Look!”
Princesa gestures ahead. The oncoming viewport floods the black marble walls with rippling azure light, pulsing in sync with the battle’s distant reverberations.
I halt.
Outside, the void is a maelstrom of carnage. Plasma blasts streak across the abyss like sapphire suns, smashing into motionless Scythian drones and Voidbanes. Two of the behemoths are already torn open, their jagged hulls aglow with molten blue. Infernos erupt with each impact, only to be snuffed out instantly by the vacuum. Still, the Voidbanes lurch like wounded beasts, their vast forms venting their guts into the emptiness.
My Rush stirs at the glorious sight, my claws itching to spill blood.
The pulsing green lattice network flickers and dies, its machine nodes drifting lifelessly, deformed by relentless fire. My myriad Shorthair vessels weave through the wreckages, with their inferior weapons, raining destruction upon the helpless drones. Stripped of their plasma shields, the enemy is torn apart with ruthless efficiency. Before long, the sector resembles a scrapheap of twisted and broken metal, a constellation glinting like jagged stars—a tomb of Scythians—one of many to come.
“Thisis why Mother told me to wait,” Princesa says, her eyes alight with the same savage joy thrumming in my veins. “She said the Voidbringer would bedistractedfeasting on Arawnoth... otherwise, it might haveavoidedher. You know, because itknewshe’d kick its ass.”
Our ship tilts, aligning above a Scythian world. Plasma torrents pour from its batteries, a relentless barrage washing over the void. Even my old Battlebarge lumbers into position, its cannon muzzles flaring molten blue.
Blast after blast rains down upon the dead planet below. Towering spires breaching the upper atmosphere buckle, then collapse, succumbing to the molten death. They slough apart, reduced to mere slag.
Is this what Ignixis’s sacrifice has brought? Is it enough?
He promised the death of the dreamless night. A prophecy delayed, but inevitable. One he set in motion—one I must finish.
I will not fail his memory. His dream. Our people’s revenge.
“What the hell happened in the Crucible, Babes?” Princesa’s voice drags me back to the present.
I resume my blistering charge, racing toward my throne room. Every second is crucial. Warriors pause mid-step, clustered around viewports, their hard eyes reflecting the destruction outside. Their claws twitch. Their fangs bare in anticipation.
Good. They have longed for this.
“The machine tried to break me,” I say coldly, the memory of its torment sending a shiver down my spine. What lasted only moments in reality felt like days in that abyssal realm of suffering. “It showed me things... our females butchered like boracks. Worse—experimented on. That I am a clone. A twisted mockery of life.” My voice falters, my fury reigniting like a sun reborn. “I will see it die a thousand deaths for this sacrilege.”
Princesa’s gaze drops. Absentmindedly, she traces the rune on Todd’s back. “How do you know it wasn’t just messing with your head?” She meets my eyes, hope flickering in her voice. “I mean, Iknowhow stubborn your Mr. Frowny Face is. If I were the Voidbringer, I’d use every dirty trick I could think of. Did it show you anything youknowwasn’t true?”
“Much,” I admit. The faintest ember of hope sparks at her words. “It showed me future events. A glory twisted by machinery. A threat of annihilation. It felt real—as if I was there in the flesh.”
The vision of Princesa’s brutalized lifeless body springs to mind with savage intensity. Both chilling and rage-inducing in equal measure.
Her fingers brush the hard lines of my jaw, grounding me. She senses my fury through our bond. “Don’t worry, Babes.” Shepurrs beneath sultry lashes. “We are divine. It can’t harm us.” A sharp laugh escapes her lips.
“Yet Arawnoth’s flames were nearly extinguished,” I remind her. The admission tastes like ash. What was once unbreakable now feels fragile, uncertain.
My words wash over her. “Who’s to say?” she muses, shrugging, jostling the pointless Todd from his lazy slumber. “Maybe Arawnoth set this whole thing up?”
No. I witnessed Arawnoth’s galaxy-ending breath. Saw how he nearly extinguished himself, mere moments from oblivion before Aenarael intervened. His were the actions of the desperate or the unthinking—a force of nature, a sun setting.
I remain silent. Let her cling to her blazing faith.
“Anyways,” Princesa waves a dismissive hand, her bond rings glinting in the dim purple light. “I bet the Voidbringer was lying. Ah, such a shame we can’t uncover the—”
“I know its location,” I interrupt, the words spilling forth of their own accord.
The vivid image of a colossal space station snaps into focus with crystalline clarity. A hulking black monolith carved with glyphs and ancient statues lost in the vastness of space. Built by thetrueScythians before they were snuffed out.
It lies not far, two sectors en route toward Argon Six.
The knowledge sears into me, a scar left by the Voidbringer’s tormenting visions. That is where it processed our females two hundred years ago. Where it still replicates clones to bolster our forces to this day.
Is it worth the risk? Chasing answers when time is so precious?
