Sorry for being late again. Not lost in writing the side story this time, instead in working on a custom species (and planet and other life on that planet). Anybody on my section of the discord knows and I’m happy to talk about it more to get more opinions.

And now we have the Gojid AAR now that the Concord are heading off. All kinds of fun things, honestly, a bit of a tech showcase. Specifically, the tech that the Gojid have partially figured out exists. Kinda a chance to see not only what they know, but what their tactical minds are able to determine based on their existing biases. We’ll also get to see as Cilany sets off on her next task. She’s got to get over two days of recording and her preliminary investigation edited as well as a piece written up.

You know, with the amount of time that the Gojid had before the Arxur arrived, one has to wonder what happened in other parts of the Union. There were also those military ships that fled the defense before the Concord arrived. Eh, probably nothing.

Synopsis: Magic was once real and present but faded away in the distant past, becoming nothing but the myths and legends we know as the surviving beings fled to other planes, only to publicly return during the Sat Wars. How would it change first contact and beyond? Only one way to find out.

I have a spot on the discord, swing on by! Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the original universe; my alpha readers, Caro Morin and Jailed Cinder; my beta readers, Angustus_Jan on the discord and u/aroluci (go check out Children of Luna, it’s awesome); and all of you that read and especially comment. Anybody interested in playing around in the AU (be it a one-shot, an impromptu ficnap, a cameo, or something more), let me know and I’ll be more than happy to work with you on it. My current plan is to release a chapter a week, with the occasional bonus, as long as that isn’t too much for everybody helping me.

Without further ado, enjoy!

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Memory Transcription Subject: Prime Minister Piri, Exhausted Executive

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: September 30^(th)****, 2136

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While the emergency had passed, I was still in the command center of the bunker as we watched the last of the Gaian ships leave. The warships. The troop transports. The captured Arxur vessels that were still able to move. The freighters. The technicians who tried to fix our comm relay. Even the Mercy Fleet. They all left as a herd, safety in numbers and controlling their prisoners. The Federation had never captured a single Arxur alive, and yet the Gaians now had hundreds, perhaps more.

Things could have gone worse than they did. Should have gone worse. We made it through with only a few thousand dead. Hundreds taken by the Gaians for care. More as refugees. Neighborhoods and towns erased, but many bunkers saved the people, even if many others didn’t.

The focus of the Arxur on our defenses was a mixed blessing. The destruction of this attack was lessened, but we’ve been left open to others.

I look around the table. A mix of military leaders and those who had been working with the Gaians. The lead technician of the team trying to fix our comm relays. Medics and doctors. Even a botanist who spent a few [hours] talking to a Gaian about the hydroponics technology they released.

I can’t sort the roots from rubble in what the doctor is speaking about, but my advisors will dumb it down if I need to know. Instead, I’m watching some of the footage of Gaian medics in action.

Where ours were safe in bunkers, waiting for the Arxur to leave like they normally would, the Gaians were in action. Running into the midst of combat to save people. Scaling crumbling buildings with the claws and hooks their armor has before swinging down with people in their arms or letting them float down in those pods. Lifting rubble that must weigh as much as entire vehicles. Leaping about with those jets on their backs.

Taking risks that no medical professional in the Federation would. That no exterminator would take. Unarmed. All to save people. My people. People they should hate.

“-nd some of our people overheard them…” The doctor flicks their ears to a Zurulian colleague. “Actually, I think you should explain, Lira. You were one of the ones who heard something about it.”

The Zurulian woman flushes green. “Oh, yes. Well… They didn’t know I was there. That I was close enough to hear. There were holes in the rubble and…” She swallows nervously. “I’m a freezer…” She bats her ears. “Anyway… I could hear the Gaians; one of them was crying. Cursing. Saying they could help so many more people if they weren’t holding back. That if they could just deploy their drones, things would be different.”

“Drones?” Asks the botanist. “Like our farming drones? How could those help?”

“I… I…” Lira stammers. “I don’t know. I just… they said they couldn’t use them. That they couldn’t let us see them. I don’t know why… they were using pods that could slow time. What are drones compared to that?”

Torlin, who is only still around because the pro-Sovlin herd trusts him despite his being against the coup, scoffs.

“Anything useful to add, captain?” Scolds Admiral Rivela, the highest-ranking naval officer currently in the system. “Or can we continue with the meeting?”

“Nothing, ma’am.” He growls. “No, there is something. Holding back? Our people were dying, and they held back! I didn’t confront them when they mentioned it, but how dare they?”

“We should be thankful for any help they gave us!” Shouts Berniq. “We attacked them, tortured one of theirs. It doesn’t matter that Sovlin was committing treason in that. He was part of our herd. It was our responsibility to stop him. We should have seen what he was. We should have stopped him.”

“Well said.” Rivela adds. “Some of us had our doubts, not enough, none with any evidence. We should have done something. The Gaians had no reason to help us. I might not know why they held anything back, but I can’t blame them for it. I will not tolerate fomenting unrest or a desire to attack the Gaians within our ranks, am I understood?”

Torlin scowls, but his ears signal understanding.

“Good.” Berniq taps her claws on the table. “I’ve heard similar reports from our ground forces. That the Gaians weren’t using their recon and medical drones. A few implied, to each other, it had something to do with their designs. Given everything, I assume that they have no reason to fear predators, and some of the drones may even take inspiration from them. It could be as simple as the Gaians not wanting to cause a stampede.”

“Great, more secrecy.” Sighs Admiral Kirna, the woman in charge of our engineering corps. Normally, almost as skittish as a Venlil, but when she’s talking tech, she’s as bold as a Krakotl. “We heard some similar things regarding rubble and rebuilding. Maybe they have drones for construction, too. But I think there are more important things we should be focusing on.”

“Oh, yes? What has the engineers so interested?” Torlin inquires facetiously. “The wood? How about the crystals?”

“Everything.” Kirna sighs wistfully. She pulls out a small chunk of wood in a case, pulling up photos and data on it. “Take this wood, for example.”

“The main material of their tech?” Asks Berniq.

“Yes!” She indicates in the data showing a very slight increase in the size and mass of the piece over time. “This came from a piece that was originally about two times its size before an Arxur round damaged it. By all rights, the wood should be dead. Not just because it was used in a piece of technology, but also due to the damage. It’s repairing itself.” She focuses the image on something visible under the bark. “Do you see that? That’s fungus! From the looks of it at the other edges, it connected the individual wood scales.”

The botanist gasps. “Wait, I’ve seen papers on something like that. An… ex-herdmate had me review it. They suggested that plants could share resources through some sort of fungal network. I… I obviously reported them to the Guild… I lost track of them after that…”

“Oh…” Kirna pauses. “That’s… uh… what we think it was doing.” She clears her throat, pulling up a video of a machine trying to cut the bark with a blade, only to have the tip bend. “It’s harder than steel. Somehow, they’ve created living materials that outperform our ship hulls. Grown in panels that are attached together and use this fungus to become a single, living network. We have samples of the crystal, too. They’re practically quartz but have similar properties to the wood. It’s miraculous.”

‘Protector, if they can grow their ships and technology, then how fast can they build fleets?’

The room erupts into a stampede of whispers, but Kirna presses on, bringing up a video of a Gaian fighter soaring through a city with an Arxur ship on its tail. The wood and crystal seem as intimidating as they are beautiful now. Readouts show data on it. The shields fail under a missile hit, leaving the hull exposed, despite the Gaian data saying it was at half shielding, as the chasing Arxur craft starts firing with its ballistics, only for them to stop on another shield bubble that the sensors can’t pick up. Moments later, as the craft reach the city’s edge, a beam of scintillating light shoots out. The Arxur craft’s shields do nothing as the light cuts it in half. The sensors pick up nothing but the light itself.

Kirna’s ears are high. “Based on what was said about the beams by the Gaian Admiral, we can be reasonably certain they have esoteric shields, equal in strength to the normal ones. We’ve tried everything; no known sensor can detect their esoterics. That means we can only assume their recharge rate and capacity based on the standard shields.”

I can’t help but think of how powerful their shields registered as being. If they’re truly twice as tough… Their fighters are more durable than our capital ships.

“And?” Asks Rivela. “What’s the recharge rate? Please tell me there’s some weakness. Their fighters can outrange and outshield our cruisers while using guns we can’t see. There has to be a weakness.”

“The same as ours, five-thirds percent of their maximum capacity. Same delay without any significant drain for the charging to start, too.” Kirna seems elated. “The Gaians are new to interstellar travel, but they must be… one, maybe two hundred rotations ahead of us.” She brings up a pair of readouts. They’re almost identical, but I can’t, for the life of me, read these things. “Take this, for example. On the left is our current generation FTL drive reading, on the right is from the Gaian ships. If you control for speed, they’re nearly identical. Yet the Gaians get one and a half to two times our speeds when their engines are fully intact.” She pulls up a third reading. “And their damaged ships were even closer, matching our speeds.”

“Couldn’t that mean that they’re using their esoterics to upgrade our shield generators and drives?” Rivela asks.

“I assume so, but they’re still ahead. It’s fascinating.” She pauses before bringing up other readings. “And look at their infantry! Powered armor, some of it with personal shields! They’re using coilguns! And those melee weapons, some were emitting ultrahigh frequency sound while others were generating electroplasma around their surfaces! Obviously, we have vibroswords that some exterminators use, but the Gaian ones are able to cut through things ours never could and operate at variable frequencies and amplitudes while having no detectible power source!”

“Oh!” Exclaims one of the doctors. “Some of our tools vibrate like that, it allows them to cut better. You can score metal with them if you aren’t careful.”

“That is fascinating! I didn’t see any reports on our vibroswords' effects on materials aside from flesh and bone.” Kirna exclaims. “Perhaps they’ve designed them to defeat their own armor and shields? Their other weapons certainly would. Ours are less successful. Short of plasma and grenade launchers, the only options we have that can defeat their armor are heavy-duty flamethrowers. Those used for colonization and fighting raids.”

She pulls up another video, this one of Gaian ships using beams, either from their hulls or small pods the smallcraft were equipped with. “They have attachable lasers, low power but enough to cut through unshielded hulls.” A map of the system appears, part of it highlighted. “It took them almost no time to sequester the debris from the combat; they seemed to be splitting it up based on material and radioactivity. From there, they started to take it into their ships via bays, and what I assume to be specially designed intakes. Including cutting up the Arxur craft, the Gaians had erased every trace of a fight, outside of our own ships and their debris, in less than a day. That’s including putting all they could of our destroyed craft in one area.”

“And what does that mean?” Rivela asks.

“That either they’re used to combat, which is highly unlikely given their… everything, or that they have advanced asteroid mining capabilities. We’ve experimented with it and have theories of what it would enable, but it’s so much easier to just find a new resource-rich world or moon, even if they aren’t habitable. Their resource extraction capabilities are likely beyond anything we’ve even considered! Their larger ships may even be made in space and be unable to ever land!” Kirna’s ears flutter with excitement. “I believe that their larger ships have extended, or infinite, endurance due to asteroid mining capabilities! I would love to get some schematics!”

Berniq huffs. “Seems like you’re interested in meeting the Gaians, Kirna.”

“No, no.” She pins her ears down. “I’d love to examine their tech, but… I don’t think I want to meet them. They… No, that’s a job for a diplomat. I… um… I’m done…”

I flick an ear towards Imdric, one of the people in charge of managing the Gaian supplies and getting the rebuilding started. “How are things progressing?”

“We could certainly have worse issues.” The laconic Gojid says with a smirk. “I can see how they could offset the entire Federation’s economic input to the Venlil Republic. We almost have too much of everything. It came perfectly organized; we just need to move things around a bit. Raw materials for building and restarting industry. Food, fresh and preserved. Medical supplies. Even luxuries like art supplies.” He gestures to an aide, who heads off. “We supplied the food for the meeting from what they sent.”

A group of aides move around, setting out food for everybody present. I let out a hum as I take a nibble of the meal that I was served. Something the Gaians had left. One of the more delightful liar’s stiplets that I’ve had, even with it lacking the crispness from the freshly fried dish. I eye the rest with interest. A pouch of a white tuber mash; another of charred mixed vegetables; a third of some sort of bean, I think; some sort of dried plant mash that smells deliciously savory; a mix of nuts, seeds, dried fruit, and small pieces of a brown substance; flat strayu; three flat strayu disks with more of that brown substance inside; a roll of dried, mashed fruit; and two drinks. One, a steaming tea, and the other, an unsettlingly blood colored fluid that smells of fruit.

“You said the Gaians left us with these?” I ask.

“Yes, ma’am. Literal tons of them.”

“Why? They won’t keep!” I exclaim.

“They will,” sighs Imdric. “Preserved, prepackaged meals that use a bit of water to rehydrate and heat.” He slides a brown package across the table, printed on it in Gojidi is a description of the contents, calling it a ready-to-eat meal and giving the simple instructions to heat. Hastily scrawled in some sort of marker is liar’s stiplet. “Turns out they figured out strayu and liar’s stiplet on their own. They have a few different meal options. They make them for their soldiers to eat in the field, in addition to food paste they can eat without leaving the armor. Away from their mobile bases that are producing fresh food and materials.”

“How long do they expect their soldiers to fight for?” Kirna asks.

“Days. Weeks. All without returning to base.” Berniq sighs. “Apparently, they’re as tireless as they seem. Yet they’ve designed their small craft and even their bases to ensure they’re never without resupply.”

The bunker is silent as we process that information. I turn my ears towards Branik as I eat. “How are we doing on restoring communications?”

He flinches. “We can’t, ma’am. The Gaians…” He sighs. “Took them almost no time to figure out what we couldn’t in days. Our relays had their transmission capability shut down.”

Torlin growls. “That much was obvious. The question is how.”

“That’s what I meant, a command was sent to silence them, first ours, then propagating to the entire Union. They called it a kill switch.” After a few moments of silence, Branik continues. “We’re still trying to figure out where it came from and how it works, but the command seems purpose-built for this. A base part of the system that’s been there for hundreds of rotations. The logs say it came from Aafa, but the Gaians talked about something… some way of bouncing a signal through multiple relays to hide the origin point. The Gaians took an image of the relay’s environment to figure out a workaround. In the meantime, they rerouted any distress signals to use their systems to contact the Concord as a backup.”

‘As if we didn’t owe them enough?!?’ My spines flare. “They did what?”

“If any of our worlds sends a distress signal, they’ll pick up on it and respond since we can’t contact the Federation. A bit more direct than what happened with all this.” Branik says. “They said it was the neighborly thing to do. One of their technicians, Gadget, she said she’d try to send me an update if they find anything more out.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Torlin asks. “They’re responsible. The Gaians sent the signal.”

The entire room tenses. Spines flaring, and most glaring at the man. A few paws even drift to their holsters.

“Choose your next words carefully, boy,” Berniq warns.

“Of course, ma’am,” Torlin smirks, drawing a growl from the general. “It’s too convenient. The Arxur attack, we lose connection to the Federation and the rest of the Union, then the Gaians are not only able to get our calls, but they were in place to arrive faster than any Federation ship could be.”

One could hear a seed drop in the silence that followed before Berniq began to laugh. Most of us followed. When they finally got themself composed, the General spoke. “I’m infantry, and even I know enough about sensor logs to know that’s a load of predshit.” The mirth leaves Berniq’s voice as they continue. “They didn’t come stampeding in half-dead. They came in fast, clean, and brutal. They told us, we did not ask, we were told, that they burned their drives to reach us in time, leaving them at parity with us. This wasn’t a miracle. It wasn’t a gift from the Protector. It wasn’t a predator trap. It was a warning. These aren’t saviors from the skies; they’re soldiers. Soldiers who knew how much time we had and exactly what it would cost to meet it. Who knew it would cost them lives to save our own. That people like you would kill them for the crime of saving us. Soldiers that, if not for their leadership being more forgiving than we ever would, could have been our enemies because of what people like you let Sovlin do. If they wanted us conquered, we would be, and I doubt we would have resisted. If they wanted us dead, they didn’t need to lift a claw.”

Torlin leaps to his feet, slamming his paws against the table. “And what would you know!?! You’re nothing but a soft-spined, moss-chewing, rot-hearted thing. You reject the Protector’s designs and side with predators!” He fumbles for where a holster would be, if he hadn’t been disarmed. “Go chew a bone!”

“I believe,” I say calmly, “that would be conduct unbecoming.”

“And attempted murder of a superior officer.” Intones Admiral Rivela. “Get him out of here. Have him tested for predator disease.”

Before the soldiers assigned to security can reach him, Torlin is diving for Rivela’s pistol. There’s a solid thunk as her prosthetic paw impacts the ex-captain’s snout. The metal limb forcing him back with the sound of something cracking. Torlin falls on his ass, blue flowing from his face.

I sigh. “I’d like for every member of our military with past experience as part of the Guild to be put up for review.”

Kirna starts. “What? Why?”

“Because,” Berniq drawls, “if we’re ever active near the Gaians again, they’re a risk. To our people, to the Gaians, and to peace. Protector knows that we should be at war right now.”

“And everything they said…” I trail off.

“They’re predator diseased, right?” Kirna asks. “Speaking to animals? To plants? Hearing planets? Everything they said… about the exterminators… about the facilities… about our planets… it has to be predator disease…”

I can’t help but think back to that. To that Cilany has footage of it. If she releases that… There’s no way the Gaians would ever be allowed into the Federation, not if what they said gets out. But… do we even want to stay? Between the Gaians and the Federation, which is better?

“The Emissary turned into a bird…” I say.

“Does it matter?” Berniq questions. “We all saw what they could do. We saw them help where the Federation failed us. We’d be fools not to at least follow the laws they set forth.”

“Um…” Branik hems.

“Go on,” I urge.

“Gadget… She mentioned that the esoterics… they call them magic. She… she said they can do things that are magic.” He shifts nervously. “Said it was commonplace. I… I don’t think she was supposed to tell me some of it.”

“Like what?” Kirna leans in, ears high and eager.

“Oh… um… Well… She complained about being on her cycle, but… but she also mentioned that she was born male. It was the only thing she considered a downside, but… but she wanted to have a baby one day, so it was worth it. That it was their magic that…” Branik swallows loudly. “Their people can have their bodies changed with magic. She also… she was considering getting… getting something installed to let her control technology with her mind.”

“THEY WHAT!?!?” A doctor exclaims. “How?”

“I.. I don’t know…” Branik flushes blue. “I asked. She mentioned something about a trance, and then she changed over a few days.”

“Is that really surprising?” I ask. “After what happened to me? After the Emissary’s claims that both of his parents are gods?” I rub at my temples, hoping to wall off the oncoming headache as the room erupts in a verbal stampede. It’s going to be a long meeting.

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Memory Transcription Subject: Cilany, Elated Reporter

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I’m embarrassed to admit, it took me a while to figure out how to summon the craft I came here on. Who would have thought that it was as simple as finding an app that had installed itself on my pad at some point.

I can’t help but think about Meiqo and Kora. I hope they’re ok, wherever they are. If they’re alive.

If I think about everything else, I might break.

My pad buzzes with an alert as the Mirage touches down. I hop off the spaceport bench and head out to where the ship is waiting. As I approach, the door opens, and the ramp lowers, all on its own.

I pause a moment before heading in, the ship closing behind me. A voice speaks. “Hello, Miss Cilany, I have been informed that you will be taking command of this vessel and have, within reason, full access. You may call me Echo. I am the ship’s artificial intelligence.”

“Artificial intelligence?”

A screen activates, displaying a series of rippling circles. With every sound, they distort. “I am a non-sentient digital construct designed to manage the ship’s systems, act as an interface for you, including performing information access and retrieval, handle any paperwork or other bureaucratic needs, act as a general assistant for you, and give you the appearance that I am both sentient and sapient. Consider me your chauffeur, concierge, and valet.” The image shifts, somehow bringing to mind the bows Farsul will give to show respect.

“Can you change your appearance?” I question, gasping when the image turns into that of an attractive Harchen male, patterns in their scales shifting hypnotically.

There’s a tinge of mischief in the pattern as they ask. “Does this please you, mistress?”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to do it, but that is much more comforting. Thank you.” I pause. “Will I have access to where Meiqo and Kora were?”

“Yes, mistress. However, I have already cleaned and taken the liberty of moving your things to the main suite, and you will not have access to engineering spaces. You will not find any secrets I am not already approved to share.”

I start to explore, somewhat disappointed by this new section not looking all that different. “They mentioned that they left toys. Could you tell me about them?”

“Of course,” Echo says, their image walking beside me on screens that reveal themselves as I pass, otherwise looking like part of the wall. “I can give an in-depth briefing if desired, but the summary is that the ship has a suite of both reconnaissance drones and journalistic drones, both of Gaian make. I have already recalled the drones that were deployed on this world to provide additional viewing angles to those in the bunker. The recon drones will be limited to use in non-Concord-aligned space and in ways that are legal for a journalist in the Concord when in allied space. Outside of allied space, such usage restrictions will not be followed. I will, however, be acting as a filter for the information received by them. I am first and foremost the property of the Concord’s intelligence agencies. I will protect their operations towards creating a lasting peace. I believe you will find the recon drones more useful; the capabilities are less tuned for live reporting, but their stealth and scouting abilities more than make up for that, and their recording capabilities are more than sufficient.”

“Stealth?”

“Yes, some of the drones possess the capability to activate a cloaking field that makes detecting their presence more difficult.”

I stumble, whitening with shock. “They can do what?”

“Do you need me to repeat myself, mistress?”

“No, no. Echo, how long would it take to reach Aafa?”

“Fastest reasonable time?”

“If you’d please.”

“Approximately five days.”

“Five days!?”

“Yes, mistress. When the conditions are right, such as being outside of the range of most Federation or Dominion sensors and ships, the Mirage can activate retrofitted Concord systems. That will allow me to reduce the travel time. An optimal route would put us slightly under four and a half days of travel. Unfortunately, there is currently chatter suggesting that there is a convoy of ships heading to Grenelka and movement of Krakotl Alliance ships, which will likely delay us by half a day. Hence five.”

“Oh… um… well… Do we have the supplies?”

“Yes, mistress. This ship is equipped with a number of systems, including automated medical facilities, a bioreactor, and hydroponics. Without resupply, you can remain in deep space for months before needing to worry about stores.”

“Then plot a course and let’s get going, Echo.”

“Excellent. I have taken the liberty of creating a collection of Federation media for your entertainment, as well as tips and rumors that the Concord’s Central Intelligence Service believes you may find interesting. If you would like to start editing the footage from the cradle, I can put on some background music. I can also aid you in the editing process. I’ve already taken the liberty of noting sections with minimal to no activity.“

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Memory Transcription Subject: Tavro, Harchen Border Monitor

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“Ugh… I hate this job. Sit and wait and wait and sit.” I groan, slumping in my seat. “The only thing to break up the sitting and waiting is logging the occasional freighter or passenger ship heading through. Maybe something military if we’re lucky. Why can’t anything exciting ever happen?”

“What? You want a raid?” Elyra grumps. “And what’s so bad about a job where you spend all shift with your girlfriend?”

“The part where if Zirep catches us talking, then we might get fired. That old sandsli-” I’m interrupted by the beeping of a ship entering range while blaring a distress signal. My claws fly across the keys as I open a hail. “Gojid ship, what is the nature of your emergency?”

“Help! You need to send help! They’re attacking, please help!”

Elyra tints with confusion. “We’re not registering any other ships? Who is attacking?”

“The cradle. They’re attacking the cradle.”

“Who?” I gasp. “The Gaians?”

“No! The Grays. I… I ran as soon as reports came in.”

“We aren’t seeing any distress signal from the cradle.” Says Elyra. “We’ll forward your report. Please move along.”

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Advance 3 STD hours

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“You just had to ask for something exciting…” Groans Elyra.

Gojid ships have been arriving, some by themselves, some in herds. All with the same story. At some point, they started mentioning that communications were down. The cradle had likely fallen. Almost two thousand Arxur ships. As soon as we had the numbers… Our station was being kept up to date on plans to send aid. Now… Now we’re only getting ready for refugees.

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Advance 23 STD hours

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Nothing had really changed. Not even between the end of our last shift and this one.

“Tavro! That’s a herd of military ships!”

I barely have a chance to see them before I accept their hail. “Border station. We aren’t sure what you’ve been told. We have updates based on last reports.” The Gojid on the call’s spines are flared. “Much of the cradle’s defensive fleet is gone, and Piri claims that the primitives are en route to help.”

“What?” I pause a moment. “The Yotul don’t have a fleet?”

“The Gaians!” The Gojid grumbles. “Ending hail, I’m going to try to get through to the Federation Navy proper.”

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Advance 28 STD hours

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Things had calmed down significantly. So much so that both Elyra and I were starting to doze during our shift. Then a beeping draws our attention. A small Gojid shuttle. Scored with fire. I answer the hail. The man piloting looks worse for wear, fur and spines a mess, patched cuts and scrapes. A plasma burn on his shoulder and a bandage on his face. A PD collar around his neck.

“This is Captain Torlin of the Gojid Navy…” He pauses, tears in his eyes. “It is my sad duty to report that due to the interference of the Gaians, the Gojid Union has fallen to predatory influences.”

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What would a Krev dance look like? Shuffling around, tail swaying or maybe something else entirely. The options are limitless and probably very funny to watch an awkward Krev try to dance. In this chapter of the Krev on Earth, we get to see Edward and his father talk about what happened to them both during their time apart as plans are made for a night out.

Once again, thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the Krev and the Krev cult for continuing to be a source of inspiration

 

Memory Transcription Subject: Edward Hamilton, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: February 6, 2161

 

The sun outside had set a while ago as we hurtled down country roads at a pace that didn’t sit well with Cruth. I watched as his claws wrapped around the safety handle above his head in the front seat.

“Hey, are you alright?” Breeve’s head flopped against my shoulder. The Krev and I were in the back seats of the Jeep my father was driving.

“Not sure yet. The exchange program is putting out new directives since the war declaration with the Collective.” She paused for a moment before she said in a sad tone.  “I’m worried about home.” She confided leaning over more before grimacing.

She was still hurting from the shattered scale. The back brace she wore was covered by a new coat. But she had been in a sullen mood for the past few hours after receiving the email.

She was worried for good reason. The Arxur declaring war in support of the Jaslip movement, had a lot of our exchange group on edge about what’s happening in KC space.

I wrapped my arms around the Krev as she leaned in against my chest. I squeezed her trying to reassure her, making sure to not apply pressure to her scale.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Your family is living in a small town in the countryside, what reason would they have for attacking Saphern? Is the local supermarket a vital war target?” I joked at the end earning a little sigh from the Krev.

“I’m trying to not think of it, but what if something does happen to them. That the Arxur glass Avor or they start genociding Krev in revenge for the Jaslip?” She asked, closing her eyes. I squeezed her again, kissing the top of her head.

I wanted to say something that could help her, that would somehow make her feel better but, I couldn’t. There wasn’t anything that I could say, because I didn’t know. The Krev shuddered as the Jeep passed over a pothole making the whole car jump. When I was about to say something, my father spoke up.

“The Arxur wouldn’t do that anymore. Betterment has long since gone out of power there, their tactics of scaring the population and killing innocents went with them. Nowadays they’re looking for any allies they can for their new alliance, the Jaslips are just that for them. A potential ally.” He explained.

“But what if they aren’t? What if the Consortium puts up too much of a fight?”

“Then, the Arxur will look for more friends and attack again or give up. Besides, it’s the Consortium against a small fleet of Arxur ships. They’re main force is currently engaged with the Federation all over again and there’s not been any word of people being eaten or worlds getting glassed.”

I could see her anxiety at the situation, her tail curled inwards.

“It’s only natural to be worried about them. We’re far away and don’t have any direct communication. Breeve, they’ll be fine. Isn’t the Jaslip rebellion all about getting away from the Consortium and leaving. The best-case scenario would be the Avor government supplies them and just lets them go to start anew with the Arxur.” I hypothesised the best scenario, trying to reassure the anxious Krev.

“The worst case would be that the cage is activated, and they stay shut in for a while. Simple really.” I kept my tone as light as possible for the Krev. I didn’t want her to be worried anymore, and I just didn’t like seeing her this anxious.

Her ear flicked my chin as her head settled under my neck. I had an idea, so I turned my head down before playfully biting her ear using my lips. It got a reaction from her as she made a squeaky ‘huh’ noise and sat up looking at me.

I took the opportunity to make eye contact and offer her a proper hug. Though it was a little difficult with us being sideways to each other.

“They’ll be fine, Breeve. Your dad’s smart, just like your mother. They’ll be alright and look after Sirks.” I squeezed her.

She didn’t respond and hugged me tightly, making the familiar trill noise that rumbled through my chest.

At the speed we were travelling, it didn’t take long before we pulled up to a two-story house. It was like the old dwellings the photos in the archive vault had. A slate roof, grey sides made of some sort of brick or maybe old stone made to look old. Out front there was a nice garden and a view of the countryside. I could make out a few houses in the distance with their lights still on.

‘I wouldn’t mind living like this.’

“We’re here.” Arthur said, killing the engine and stepping out.

I helped Breeve out of the car not wanting to aggravate her injury.

“You know I can do this on my own, right?”

“I know, it’s just that I’m worried.”

“You don’t need to worry, I’ll be fine… and thanks, for earlier.” She grabbed my offered hand, pulling me close and decided to lick the side of my face.

“Oi, love birds, you coming inside or should we leave you out here?” My father spoke, opening the door to the house, followed by Cruth.

We followed them inside, stopping in the hallway to take off our coats. The house was very warm, and the décor was really nice. There was a stairwell leading up and a few doors, the one on our right led into a dining room, a table set out with silverware while the one Arthur led us through was into a living room.

A few seats were placed around an unused fireplace, a tv was set on a small table in the corner while photos adorned the walls. It all felt homely and lived in, the pictures and walls had paintings or photos of people I didn’t know.

“You guys can wait here for a moment. I’ll see if the food is ready and where the others are?” Arthur said, backing away into another door, steam emanating from the small crack left in it.

Cruth and Breeve decided to sit down on the sofa while I had a look at the photos on the mantle place. Some were my father and my step siblings, others had people I didn’t know just smiling at the camera.

One of them was on top of a mountain. Arthur was wearing mountain climbing gear, with Thepio riding on his shoulders. They both stared at the camera, standing with the countryside behind them and Pelera was there staring the other way holding my father’s hand.

They looked happy…

The other photos were the same, of them as children growing up and spending time with my father. Times that I will probably never be able to have with him.

“What are you looking at?” Cruth asked, scaring me with how close he had gotten.

“…Wondering how much I missed.” I paused, trying to calm my heart from the scare I just got.

Seeing the photos made me wonder if I had any back home. Any of mom and me being this happy or with friends? It made me feel hollow, not putting them in frames like this and losing them when my pad was destroyed in Bulik.

“I wouldn’t focus on it. If it were me and I had either of my parents back. I’d be trying to make as many memories as possible with them, not focus on what we missed.” He said, grabbing a photograph placed above the fireplace.

This one was of my mother in the hospital, a baby wrapped in a blanket cradled in her arms. I’d seen it before, she had this photo saved to her phone before we left and she looked a lot different back then. More alive, more happy…

Cruth placed it back as we went through the room, seeing the photos and little trinkets. They were a happy family, together with a bright future, and here I was. A mental wreck with no drive or ambition.

“Can I ask something?” Cruth whispered, picking up an antique clock. Looking at the hands slowly tick forward.

“What? Why are you trying to be secretive all of a sudden?”

“Shhhh, I um…” He paused, looking around before putting the clock back making sure it stayed in the same place. “I um… how do you… ask someone out?” He blurted quietly.

“…You would just ask, I guess. Like do you have someone in mind or are you just asking for the future?” I asked curious now what the Krev was getting up to.

“I umm… It’s hard to explain.” He quietly glanced toward one of the doors.

“You just talk to them and see if they’re interested. Ask them and if they say no, then that’s it, nothing else you can do about it. Just, be normal I guess.”

This conversation took a turn for the weird as he sighed, a tinge of blue surrounding his ears. I probably wasn’t the best to ask about this sort of stuff.

Before I could think anymore about what Cruth was doing, the door to the kitchen opened again. This time Ashia appeared wrapping an apron across her arm.

“Ahh, dinners ready, and it’s great to see you three again.” She spoke in a friendly manner, before turning to Breeve. “I need to thank you specifically for helping Thepio. He says that you were amazing for helping him.” She tilted her head when she finished speaking.

“Oh, it was nothing really, just in the right place and time.” Breeve put her pad away turning up to the Venlil.

“It certainly must have been something, the way that Arthur described your state.” She eyed the brace Breeve had wrapped around her.

‘Is it me or is this turning into an interrogation?’

“It wasn’t a problem, just that one of them got-“

“A knife and tried to stab you with it.” Thepio finished her sentence, after entering the room from the hallway, Pelera following after him.

I offered a greeting and had to nudge Cruth to snap him out of whatever he was thinking. Thepio seemed alright compared to back in the condo. He stared at me for a second, before he turned back to his mother.

“Look, she helped me and Thomas out of a bad situation. Why are you being hard on her?”

“I don’t agree with your father’s way of dealing with this. Opening a file with his old army connections into HF activities is good, but they should be arrested for assault.” Ashia responded.

‘Seems like they’ve had this conversation multiple times now.’

“Mom, I don’t want to deal with this anymore. Can’t we just put this behind us and move on already? I don’t want this when I’m this close to never seeing them again.” He emphasised the point by making a small gap with his paws.

“Still, what if they are out there terrorising others, what if they come after you again?”

“Then I’ll just beat them again.”

“That’s not – ack… There’s no point in arguing with you about this. If this happens again I’m going straight to the police to file a report. Your father’s military connections or not.” She said with a note of finality. It reminded me of Breeve sometimes when I would end up doing something stupid.

She saw me staring and turned a quizzical head tilt before turning back to Ashia.

“If it does, then I’ll testify as well. I’m sorry for the hassle, I just… the tension between our species means that the exchange program could fall apart. The three of us could be sent back to Tellus if it does.” Breeve spoke up.

Ashia was about to say something but stopped and exhaled, annoyed. “Fine, but if this does happen again, or if I catch a single word of you getting into another fight. You will be grounded until you graduate.” She faced Thepio, who looked like going to reply, before getting a smack on the back of the head from Pelera.

“And you.” She turned to Breeve. “If he gets hurt again or targeted by these people, then I want you to testify to the police and alert your exchange program as well. I don’t care about what happens, I don’t want my son getting hurt.” She waited for Breeve to respond. The Krev meekly nodding under the Venlil’s gaze.

“Plates are set ar- What happened?” Arthur came back through the door seeing all of us standing around.

“Nothing, honey. Just making sure everyone knows what’ll happen if my kids get hurt.” She turned around to the human.

“I see… well, dinners ready and waiting.” He looked between all of us, gauging what was said.

The food smelled fantastic and tasted even better. We were sitting around a large wooden table in a dining room, which left me feeling like it was all a bit too much. The amount of food and the décor just didn’t compute correctly in my head coming from the survival status of Tellus settlement.

A large pot of stew had something called Tofu made to taste like Beef. I had asked the others were okay eating it since it was basically something that stated like meat. Thepio and Pelera didn’t care but I did see a hint of hesitation in Ashia as she ate, but she never stopped eating it after the first few sips.

I was worried for my friends, if they could even swallow the chunks of meat and vegetables before I ate one. The tofu fell apart in my mouth and I learned that Ashia and Arthur looked into foods the Krev could eat. Both of them seemed to enjoy that the two Krev loved their cooking and I saw Ashia’s tail start swaying as Cruth complimented the flavour.

‘I guess the verbal lashing from earlier is forgotten.’

I enjoyed it immensely, feeling full after a bowl. The vegetables and seasoning they used made it all the more special since it was stuff from home I never had before. After eating whatever I could, I started talking to Thepio since I never really had the chance.

“So um-“ I offered before he cut me off immediately.

“You don’t have to do introductions; I’ve heard enough about you from Arthur already.” He sounded annoyed as he chewed on a bit of onion.

“Good things I hope?” I tried to lighten the mood between both of us, but he scoffed.

“Yeah, ‘good things’.” He sarcastically said earning a glare from Pelera of all people before she returned to talking to Breeve.

‘I guess I’ll just be upfront now.’

“You know I’m not here to replace you or anything.” I said, sipping at a glass of water as the Skalgan placed his spoon down and turned to me.

“I don’t expect you to.” He stared unblinking, making me feel a little nervous about what to say. After a moment he turned away and started eating at his stew again.

“So, you’re still in school?” I asked, changing the topic.

“I am.” He responded, sounding annoyed.

“What sort of subjects do you like?”

“Some of them.”

“Like specific ones I mean?”

‘I felt like I was playing twenty questions.’

The conversation continued as he said as little as possible to me. Just yes or no answers with a glare mixed in. I already knew that he didn’t like the fact that I was here. I already told him I wasn’t going to replace anyone, and I guess he just didn’t like me much.

“Engineering.” He replied when I asked what he wanted to do once he left high school.

“Any sort of engineering field in mind? I know a little about metallurgy if that’s any interest.”

He paused for a few seconds, staring ahead and answered.

“I don’t know.”

“General engineering then? Machines? or something that interests you. I sort of liked learning about aviation but never got the opportunity living underground my whole life.”

“…Robotics, I guess.” He added at the end. It was a little more, and I thought he was starting to talk more normally.

“Alright. So like, what sort of robotics do you think?”

“… Okay.” He paused for a moment and looked at me. “You’ve heard of a memory transcription?”

“Yeah, I had one done before.”

“There was this concept that we can use our minds to control robots. Think of it like sitting in a seat and being able to move your hands and see through the camera of a robot without actually moving your own arm or body to do so.”

“You’ve lost me.”

He sighed, taking a sip of water before starting again.

“Think of it like you're sleeping, or have you ever heard of an outer body experience?”

“Like ghosts?”

He held his head with a paw, dragging it down his snout before asking.

“Are you intentionally being annoying or do you not grasp the concept?”

“No, it’s just that… I’m not very good with neural patterns talk or robotics in general. The best I know is about programming machines to do jobs or manual handling.”

“…Okay, you’ve used a machine before or a forklift even?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so. Imagine yourself sitting in a forklift seat. You would use your arms to manually operate it? Instead, imagine that your arms felt like they moved but in reality, they didn’t, but the forklift still responded to your actions.”

“Okay, I think I’m starting to get what you’re talking about.”

“So, imagine that, but you were able to do it from another location. You would be able to see and feel the controls of the forklift and be able to use it, just without actually touching it with your real body.”

“So, like a remote control, but instead you’re like a ghost or merge with the machine to use it?”

“The ‘ghost’ concept is the one I’m interested in. The ability to feel your arms controlling stuff that you weren’t actually touching is fascinating.” He replied enthusiastically as I nodded along, thinking of the practical applications this could yield.

My first thought was of being able to operate tools or mining equipment without the danger of a collapse or getting hurt. It made me think of that one campaign in the settlement where we had to work from home during a plague outbreak. Just that the miners couldn’t really work from home.

The only thing that saved us from being evicted those few months was the materials we had stockpiled.

He grew more animated as he opened up more to me. Telling me about what he was interested in and I tried to keep up with the concepts as best I could. Eventually the dinner was finished and the rest of us retired to the living room again and chatted.

I talked to Arthur and Ashia about some of the things that happened when I was growing up underground.

Mostly, stuff that made news there. Like a daily rationing plan or that shifts needed to be extended again to meet quota. I never talked about what happened after the reveal. I didn’t think I was ready to bring it up to them yet.

“Hey, I was wondering something.” Pelera spoke up after I had finished another story. “I had a friend with tickets to a place called ‘The Bank’ in London. They can’t go so I was wondering if you, Breeve and Cruth would like to come with me?” She asked.

“What is it? A live concert or something?” I replied.

“No, it’s a night club. A popular one for dancing and drinks.”

I was conflicted. The experiences I had back in Bulik while drunk flashed through me, while I remembered all the other fun times I had at places like that. I knew that Breeve was hurt, Cruth is alright, but was I okay to go?

“Ah -um. Yes, that would be awesome to go.” Cruth stammered, a light blue twinge around his ears again as he kept staring at Pelera.

She looked at me next. I debated it in my head for a little while before saying.

“I’m alright with going, just don’t want to drink that much.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll watch out for you light weights.” Pelera smirked before Ashia spoke up.

“Pelera, don’t go around dragging people off for a night out. You remember what happened last time?”

“…Yes, I do.” The Skalgan grumbled, her ears pinning down as she looked away.

“If you’re going, I ‘m going with you.” Breeve spoke up.

“Are you sure? Your scales and stuff would hurt wouldn’t it.”

“I’m not leaving you alone again, last time won’t happen this time.”

“What does she mean ‘last time’?” Arthur joined in, making me freeze up.

“I umm. Just drank a little too much is all.” I quickly added covering for myself. He didn’t seem convinced, staring at me for a while before Pelera spoke up again.

“Great well, the tickets are for Sunday night. It won’t be as packed, but there’ll still be a good few people there. Is that alright for you guys?”

“I’m for it.” Cruth added very enthusiastically, still staring at her.

“I’m alright, though my dancing has gotten very rusty.” I joked, not wanting to think of getting knocked out again.

“I won’t be dancing, but I’ll watch the others so they can get home.” Breeve added at the end rubbing a paw over the cracked scale. Though I think I saw her eyes sparkle when I joked about dancing.

“I’ll hope you guys do. Last time Pelera did this, we didn’t hear from her, but her friend called. She said that our daughter had thrown her phone into a fountain thinking it was a coin she was throwing. Make sure she doesn’t go overboard.” Arthur said, pinching the bridge of his nose. The comment left the Skalgan stammering before Breeve responded.

“I’ll make sure we get home fine, at least back to the condo if it’s very late.”

“Please see that you do.”

We started going over the logistics of the where and when. Mostly about train schedules and pricing and if we should have pre drinks or not.

I was tapped on the shoulder by Arthur when Pelera was explaining that the Skalgans can drink anyone under the table, and he pointed a thumb at the door to the hall. I followed him, after he walked away.

I thought we’d be stopping there, but he grabbed a pair of boots and stepped outside into the frigid night air. The chatting from inside was dulled when he reached into a pocket and grabbed a cigarette box.

“Um, what are we doing?” I asked, watching my breath disappear into the dark.

He didn’t respond, he just pulled out another and offered it to me, looking ahead of us into the now blackened sky. He lit his and took a drag before offering me the lighter.

I had smoked before, not tobacco, but some of the weed a few miners were able to grow. Tobacco was a rare commodity in the settlement and most of it was used up in the first few months of arriving. Just that the militia had confiscated it, and only the settlement’s administration was allowed to smoke it.

I never got the opportunity to try it and was curious. I flicked the lighter, causing an orange glow as the cigarette took, burning the end of it. Without much thinking, I offered the lighter back and inhaled the stick, feeling the smoke burning my throat.

“It’s some *cough-cough* good stuff. Definitely better than what we had.” I said feeling like I was hawking up a lung.

“You don’t smoke?” Arthur asked, surprised.

“No, well, not anymore.” I said, not liking the taste and throwing the thing into the ground and grinding it with my boot.

“Shit, sorry about that. I didn’t know, I just expected-“ He apologised, rubbing the back of his head after he put the lighter back.

“It’s all good. I know everything is pretty shitty back on Tellus, and it would drive us to smoke and drink ourselves into oblivion.” I tried making light of it, but the truth was far closer than what it should have been.

“Does Ashia know you smoke?” I asked, feeling the coughing fit start to subside.

“She does, and she does sometimes as well. I was thinking with what I was about to ask, you would need one.”

“And, what are you going to ask me?” Feeling the conversation shift again.

‘Does he know?’

“It’s about something that happened to you. I know that Emelia died when you were young and I have no doubts that would have messed with anyone. Especially someone at you age when it happened.” He paused and took another drag, the embers making his face glow eerily in the dark.

“You were in the mine explosion, you explained that. But everything you tell us is before it happened. Nothing of how you met Breeve or Cruth, or why you avoid every question about what happened after you met them. It doesn’t add up son, and I know that there’s something eating at you.” He finished.

I watched as the smoke he exhaled drifted upward into the dark sky, disappearing from my view and I stayed like that for a moment. Looking up and not thinking about anything.

‘Should I say to him or, do I try and avoid it?’

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. There are a few things I haven’t really been truthful with you about either.” He inhaled deeply and stayed quiet. He was fidgeting with the cigarette or looking away in the opposite direction like he wanted to hide his face.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to share what happened, to tell him that I was scared and sorry and sad. That the only times that I felt something was by being busy, or with my friends. That when I’m alone dark thoughts would plague me. My brain not wanting me to rest and kept reliving the worst moments over and over again.

‘Just tell him, he knows how bad it can be.’

‘What if he sees me differently?’

‘He will, his opinion will change and your own will as well.’

‘What if I don’t want to?’

‘You know what almost happened? What you almost did back then when you closed off from everyone.’

I took a calming breath, gathering my thoughts as the cold air grounded me.

“After the mine explosion. I blamed myself for what happened, I needed to get away and decided to join the Krev exchange. A few things happened that led me to meeting Breeve and travelling around Avor looking for Cruth… we umm” I paused feeling my voice getting caught in my throat. “We found him and uhh… a few days after we went out to a bar and I was… I-I was kidnapped...” I had to relax my hands, I felt the nails starting to pierce my skin I was clenching my fists so tightly. The feeling of a cloth being forced against my mouth and the drowsy feeling played at the back of my mind.

‘I wish I hadn’t stomped out that cigarette.’

“I umm… I was taken and – and was going to be sold to someone. I fought back and they decided it wasn’t good behaviour.” I paused for a while, feeling my eyes start swelling as I held back tears.

‘I needed to do this; I was able to talk about it before. I needed to do it again.’

Turning away I looked around looking for something to count or focus on to distance myself from my thoughts but there wasn’t anything. Only darkness around us and the few lights in the distance of other houses.

“I was strapped down and my nails and teeth were pulled out…”

‘Come on, don’t stop now.’

 “I nearly died after breaking out, but my friends saved me. But it didn’t feel like they saved me.”

Arthur stayed quiet, he finished his first cigarette at this point and started another looking at me intensely. I fought as hard as I could to keep the emotions bottled up, not to spill everything out in front of the last family I had.

“I wanted to die for the longest time. I shut everyone out and I’m only alive because of them.” I pointed inside. “They’re the only reason why I kept going, that I’m even looking for help and not in the ground somewhere.”

‘I’m pathetic’

I took deep breaths and calmed myself. I didn’t want to cry, I slowly calmed down feeling the tightness in my throat start to fade with the wetness around my eyes. It meant I was getting better, it meant that I was getting better for them. That I was starting to be able to open up without breaking down.

I shut my eyes, taking deep measured breaths quelling the raging tornado of emotions in me.

“I can understand it.” Arthur spoke very quietly. I opened my eyes watching as he turned away to stare ahead again. “The time you and your mother left Earth, it had me torn up inside and there was no one to put me back together. I already told you about meeting Unipher, but not what happened afterward.”

I listened as hard as I could, leaning on every word so I didn’t have to focus on myself anymore.

“I was a medic, yes, but I was bloodthirsty.” He spat the words like it revolted him. “I was a very violent man, thinking that if I can’t see yous again, then there wasn’t any point to keep going anymore. I threw myself into combat engagements, every mission and every little distraction to not remember watching the ship take you and your mother away.” He grabbed his wrist and rubbed the area for a little while.

“Even after the war was over, I couldn’t stop. Stopping meant that it was done, that the fight was over, and I couldn’t accept it. Unipher was with me, trying desperately to see the good in me and it worked for a while. I transferred to active war zones on Earth, wanting for it to just be over, that I wouldn’t need to deal with it anymore.” He grimaced as he spoke, I watched him as he gripped his wrist hard before opening his tired eyes.

“I lost an arm on Earth and was medically discharged. I had nothing and was nothing. Somehow, I ended up on Skalga and met Ashia. Thepio was just born and… I just lost it. I broke down in front of her, a complete stranger watching this random Venlil walking down the street, pushing a stroller and I just broke.” He took another shaky drag of his cigarette looking away, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “She put me back together, we worked it out and eventually I was able to get back on my feet.”

“How? How do you get back on your feet?” I asked, not knowing where to even start.

“We’re similar. We kept going for the ones we loved. Marching forward so that we have a reason to keep going. Mine is Ahsia, Pelera and Thepio, yours is Breeve and Cruth. They got you through the worst of it and you’re getting better.” He turned to me, staring at me with tired eyes that reminded me of my own. “You just need that little push to keep moving forward every now and then.”

“But how? What do I do?” I pleaded with him. I thought that he found a way to overcome it, that there were some easy steps I could take to get batter.

“Focus on what makes you feel happy, things that are good for you or helping your friends. Planning with them and being honest. It took me far too long and cost me so much to figure it out.”

We stayed quiet for a while, reliving our worst times in our own ways. He kept smoking, nearly finishing this cigarette as well when he spoke up.

“Did you have any plans for the future?”

“No.”

“I can help you find something that could help you. Maybe a job to get your mind off things?”

“What would it even be? I’m not good at anything.”

“You could work with me, I know Derine is looking for extra workers. You could come with us and work part time and see how you feel about it?”

“Maybe, I just don’t know yet. I can’t even plan ahead for tomorrow, let alone what sort of job I would want.”

“What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

“I don’t know. I know that Unipher said something about helping others and it giving people the drive to live again.”

“Charity work?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve been helping Breeve with her Overseer stuff and talking to Cruth about stuff.”

“I’ll see what I can do to help. The offer for working at the stables still stands.” He exhaled some smoke as he smirked a little. “Still need to see the first time you fall from a horse.” He snickered at the end.

“Heh, I’mma try and not let that happen.” I offered back, feeling a little better after the talk.

“You know that I love you son.” He said, staring up at the twinkling stars.

“I know, I… I love you as well, dad.”

He breathed deeply again, but before he could take another drag the door behind us opened. Ashia stepped out into the frigid air and glared at Arthur. Without saying a word, she reached up and grabbed the cigarette out of his hand and held it for a moment before inhaling the last remnants of it.

She never coughed as she exhaled. He stubbed the butt of the cigarette out into a barely used ashtray next to a window before turning to me.

“Pick that one up as well and put it in the ashtray. I see that you don’t smoke since it’s barely used. Good.” She ordered me. “Your friends were starting to wonder where you two wandered off to, and before you start planning some more about this night out. I want you to know. No staying in London, I want Pelera back that night or a text explaining that she is staying at the condo and will be back in the morning.” She jabbed a finger at my face.

“You can trust me, nothing will happen to her.”

“It’s not something happening to her, it’s her doing something reckless.” Ashia walked back in when my father gave me a shocked face that spoke of how much trouble I was in for if she did get in trouble.

“And Edward, I don’t want you smoking. Pelera doesn’t and Thepio doesn’t either. My kids don’t smoke and that includes you, it’s a bad habit and hard to kick.” She glanced at Arthur quickly before entering the living room again.

I felt better in a strange way. I was able to tell him what happened and I think he understands. I was exhausted, yes, but sort of excited for this night out. It had been a while, and with my two friends there, I didn’t have to worry about anything happening other than me making a fool of myself.

It sounded pretty nice.

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First / Previous / Next

Better understanding - part 1

Raising Primates, Krevpocalypse , What have we done?  What have we done? Regaining Trust, Krev Sugar Mommy: A Butler's Duty - More krev stories

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Thank you for reading this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. Next time we'll see what the four get up to while in London.

If you have any advice for me to improve it would be much appreciated, and again.

Thank you for reading!!!

A question for you mortals: Making the Arxur have Mexica and Maya aesthetics? A friend already got his account taken down for “inciting hatred,” and I’d rather not be next.

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Remembrance Scroll: Noah Williamson, Master Mage of the Heiliges Magiereich

Date, Calendar After the Fall: 12th of Solitas, 1401

“Hurry up, move it!” shouted Don Fernando as he barked orders at his men.

We were constructing a teleportation altar and a tower for messenger mages.

Sailors carried construction materials for both structures from the ship.

“There is something I do not like about this place,” I said. “Everything feels too… dry. As though it has not rained in a very, very long time.”

“It is probably a drought,” Don Fernando replied.

“No, it is not that. It feels different… though I cannot say why.”

“The fact that nothing has given us an incurable magical disease in the five days we’ve been here is already an achievement,” said a deceptively jovial voice.

The owner of the voice was the volunteer physician.

His white plague doctor attire contrasted with the mysterious fluids staining his apron.

“Doctor Kunrad, I thought you and a contingent of my men went over there to conduct your strange experiments… where are my five men?” Don Fernando asked as he grabbed his pistol.

“Yes, about that.” Kunrad reached behind his back and… pulled out a crossbow bolt dripping with his blood. “We have a rather unpleasant native problem. They appeared to be some sort of sheep beastmen.”

Every sailor froze.

Don Fernando was the first to react.

“Get the pikes and muskets! Prepare defensive positions!” he shouted as his men rushed into action. “How long until they arrive, Doctor?”

“Judging by their short legs, their equipment—which I should mention resembles a standard Frenio army entirely lacking cavalry—and taking into account the acceleration spells I used to escape them…” he spoke as though he had not just removed a bolt from his own body, “one hour. They will arrive in one hour.”

“…Go treat yourself, Doctor,” said Don Fernando.

“That was the idea.”

He walked away with his hands behind his back…

There were five more bolts lodged in it.

---

Remembrance Scroll: Slanek, Scout of the Venlil Duchy

My hands were still trembling.

We had managed to ambush a group of predators.

Five were eliminated and burned, but one managed to escape.

It was tall and unnaturally thin, to the point that it looked malnourished, yet its endurance and mobility ruled out the possibility of starvation.

The predator ran, presumably toward its own kind, and we quickly lost it thanks to its acceleration spells.

We were one thousand men-at-arms against the predator vanguard, along with peasant levies gathered in great haste.

Our numbers would overwhelm them immediately.

We only had to hold the defensive line while they attacked like mindless beasts.

At last, we spotted the predators’ defensive line, and our formation began to organize itself…

Wait. A defensive line?

Spearmen carrying absurdly long pikes, an officer mounted atop an enslaved prey beast, a mage, and several others holding metallic tubes with wooden grips.

There were also strange cylinders of far greater size surrounded by multiple predators, each attached to wheeled wooden frames.

We also noticed a complete lack of predators throwing themselves suicidally toward us in a frenzy.

So we had no choice but to continue advancing.

The strategy was always the same.

The frontline would endure any charge for as long as possible while we crossbowmen eliminated the predators with our only advantage over them: crossbow technology, which allowed us to match the Arxur slingers by wielding weapons deadlier than theirs.

And these creatures did not appear to possess slingers at all. Perhaps they were even more primitive than the Arxur themselves.

We also had two mages prepared to cast fireballs upon the vicious predators.

[Musketeers, raise weapons! Cannoneers, load the artillery! Pikemen, lower pikes!]

The predator officer shouted orders in a language I did not understand.

The men carrying those metal-and-wood tubes raised them as though they were…

Crossbows?

Did they possess their own crossbows?

This was bad.

Even with slings, the Arxur’s accuracy was undeniable. If these predators had crossbows, it would be no different…

Though it mattered little. No crossbow could fire from such a distance.

The predators standing around the large cylinders placed metal balls inside them.

And the spearmen lowered the tips of their weapons forward.

[Ready!] The officer raised his sword. [Aim… fire!]

BOOM

"BLITZ"

Those were the last sounds I heard before chaos erupted.

Explosions and bolts of lightning covered the battlefield.

Our army, terrified by the thunderous noise, broke into a complete rout.

At least, those who were not already dead or dying.

I looked toward where the mages had been.

Both nobles were dead.

Judging by the crater where they once stood, there was little room for doubt.

Steel armor was pierced effortlessly as the knights wearing it collapsed to the ground.

I did the smartest thing possible.

I ran.

The Krakotl took to the skies.

All of us fled in terror.

And the predators?

The pikemen had abandoned their primary weapons and instead drew thin swords and daggers before charging directly at us.

Some explosions rang out again, though they soon ceased once predator steel found flesh.

The peasant levies were the first to fall, victims of thrusts and stabbings, while others were killed by riders mounted upon enslaved prey beasts, creatures either indifferent or resigned to the cruelty carried out by their masters, who wielded smaller versions of those tubes of death alongside spears and swords.

Alongside them fell those who still possessed the will to fight, souls admirable enough to overcome their fear and stand against evil…

If only all of us had been like them.

Eventually, the evil horde caught up to us.

I turned quickly and drove a bolt into a predator’s head.

Only for another to arrive from my flank and kick my crossbow away, depriving me of my greatest weapon.

[You are the most pathetic beastman I have ever fought,] it said in its guttural language while making exaggerated, boastful movements with its thin sword. [En garde, sheep-man. Let us see what you are capable of.]

I barely managed to draw my morningstar in time to block the first thrust.

With great difficulty, I pushed myself aside to avoid the dagger before striking the predator’s breastplate with my spiked weapon.

Aside from a dent, the predator seemed perfectly fine for someone who should have had broken ribs.

[Alchemized steel, idiot.]

It struck me with its forearm hard enough to throw me onto my back.

I felt the bones in my knee strain beneath the predator’s kick, and then I felt cold steel pierce my shoulder.

[This is how we do things in Astoris,] it said before wrenching the weapon free from my shoulder with another kick.

Then my head struck stone.

---

Remembrance Scroll: Shaldra, Mentalist of Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Empire

“Siffyyyyyy~” I called as I pushed open the stone gate.

On the other side stood Siffy, flanked by two guards carrying long obsidian spears and shields, both wearing the hides of Jungle Grunts.

Normally, I would not discuss matters like this with others nearby, but these two were more defective than a malformed hatchling. They would not say a word as long as I continued falsifying their purity examinations.

Siffy wore the same expression as always: that “I think I’m intimidating because I look like I’m smelling rotten meat” face, complete with that ridiculous feathered headdress and his bronze armor decorated with gold ornaments.

Siffy grimaced the moment he heard my voice.

Had he heard me eighty years ago, he would have been fighting the other males for the chance to share my bed. Ungrateful brat.

And while I was at it, I also admired his gold teeth.

“Shaldra, I have told you for the past seven solar cycles that—”

Naturally, I did not let the brat finish.

“Yes, yes, it is Isif and all that. Whatever you say, darling,” I interrupted while tossing the Remembrance Scroll toward him.

Siffy jumped slightly to catch the scroll before glaring at me with open irritation.

“I already know what you are going to say, but look at it first. It came from one of your scouts. The boy seemed quite desperate for me to examine it…”

I flicked my tail lightly.

“And oh, it was absolutely worth it.”

He sighed before opening the scroll, his eyes glowing pink as the memories flowed into his mind.

He remained like that for half a minute until the glow finally faded.

“So tell me,” I asked, my tail swaying slightly behind me, “what happens next?”

“…Chief Hunter Isif will inform the Descendant Prophet and—”

I cut him off again.

“That is what Chief Hunter Isif will do. What will Siffy do?”

“…Send twice as many scouts to the Venlil Duchy. I want to know everything possible about these new predators.”

The tone of reluctant surrender in his voice was music to my ears.

“That is the spirit.”

I turned around and began leaving the throne room.

“Goodbye, Siffy… enjoy your book or whatever it is you brood over these days.”

Siffy’s irritated growls were the last melody I heard before leaving the chamber.

____

Prey Empire: For all the empathetic and wise prey in the world

Remember how we're still in NoP main timeline? Remember what happens at the end of october in that timeline? No? Then you, same as Ramvek, are in for quite a surprise~

Special thanks to /u/Olliekay_ for proofreading it, and /u/SpacePaladin15 for NoP universe.

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---

Memory transcription subject: Ramvek, Fledgling Venlil Vampire

Date [standardized human time]: October 31st, 2136

This work shift started in such an unassuming fashion.

I clocked in just as Jarcha and Kramelin were clocking out, leaving me with only Yeelva and Belmer, and in a claw Yeelva clocked out too. Kramelin would be back in another two claws, but until then the entire office was just two people.

It made me miss the temporary exterminators from other offices. Sure, they weren’t as friendly or talkative as our resident crew, but at least cases like this one where only one person was on standby didn’t happen. I could only hope that we’d get more of those ‘temporary’ reinforcements. Plus, Yeelva mentioned that she is looking for new hires more actively than ever. Maybe, if luck would have it, that might work out.

I was making use of that free time to chat with Vic. Over text, for the moment. The orphanage was hosting a party for some human holiday... And things were going not so well, from what she was saying. A lot of crying and breakdowns with kids not getting into the mood. The way she was describing it sounded like the caretakers were trying their best to lift everyone’s spirits, but with many of the orphans being recently admitted...

Vic herself wasn’t distraught, having been an orphan for a long time by now, but wasn’t in the mood to celebrate either. ‘Too old’ for it, as she put it. I tried pressing further, but she said that there’s no way she can explain that specific holiday over the app without it turning into one giant block of censored text.

Something to look forward to when we finally meet in person then, I suppose.

That and... explaining my condition. I still had no clue how to approach that subject. I know Mark promised to help me when the time comes, but it was still my secret... I needed to figure that out because I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Vic would be the only person ever I might end up having to confide that in.

And that’s why I was half-lost in thought when the first call in the entire half-claw finally came in. I quickly typed ‘work’ to Vic, which she’d understand, put on my headset and pressed the button to pick up the call. Wasn’t one of the regulars, so it might actually be something significant.

“Ambershade Exterminator Office, what can we help you with?” I spoke out my usual greeting.

“P-P-Predators! There are...” The voice was clearly genuinely scared. No signs of the complaining or frustrated tone people could have when just using words wrong to complain about others. This person’s fear felt real... My ears immediately pulled back, as I almost got a bit scared on their behalf.

“Please stay calm.” I instructed the venlil on the other end of the line. “Please tell me where you are and what the situation is like right now.”

“Th-They were hiding it! For years! I knew them for years! And they were predators all along!” The person started full on shouting. “These gojid, they are predators! Predators! All along! I even... I even babysat their pup once! I was in mortal danger! Do something!”

I was stunned and baffled. I briefly considered actually forwarding this one, but directing Belmer to visit the caller themselves, not their upstairs neighbours, because something is clearly wrong with them if they’re that sincere about the things they’re saying.

“Did those neighbours... do something to make you so sure about that?” I asked cautiously, hoping to defuse the situation before getting to more drastic measures.

“Neighbours? No, I just watched- Oh, forget it, useless like always! I need to get out of here!” And then they hung up, leaving me no time to respond.

I was about to go dial Belmer to investigate whatever was going on when my eyes passed by the list of incoming calls... Over forty and rising! I’ve only seen that number reach double digits once and it was back when humans first moved into the town, and even then the peak was thirteen calls in the queue!

On instinct, I picked the next call up.

“Ambershade Exterminator Office, what can–” I began, but was rudely interrupted.

“They were hiding! Among us! Do something! Please!” It was like the previous person was continuing their crazed ramble right where they left off... Except this was clearly a different venlil.

“Please, explain what is happening!” I asked insistently, feeling very on edge as I could see the number of incoming calls grow more and more.

“You don’t...?” The voice sounded astounded. “Wait! You’ve got... them! At the office! That tall krakotl and that white gojid... They’re everywhere! Everywhere!”

And the call was hung up again, before I could get any explanation as to what was happening. Now feeling a lot of frustration welling up and pushing the dread aside, I picked up the next call.

“Ambershade Exterminator Office.” I began automatically before asking the question. “Will you at least explain what is happening right now?!”

“I...” The voice sounded... awful. Wet. And it was clearly a gojid speaking, not a venlil. “P-Please... Send someone...”

The difference in the way they spoke from the two venlil earlier was drastic.

“What is wrong? What do you need help with?” I asked, hoping that the promise of assistance would be reassuring.

“I c-can’t... I should do it but I c-can’t... so please... s-send someone... who can do it... without t-too much pain...” The gojid practically pleaded over the call.

“I... do what...?” I asked, not understanding it at all.

“K-Kill the predator!” They cried out desperately. “I... I am d-dangerous... I don’t want to h-hurt... my friends... I... I...”

The call was hung up again, as the gojid on the other end broke down into audible wails.

I had to stop myself from picking up the next call and stood up, rubbing my face intently. Something insane was happening and I wasn’t clued in on it. I reached for my pad and opened the internet browser.

The news articles on the front page were instantly bombarding me with insane titles. ‘Chief Nikonus Confesses!’, ‘Impossible Cilany Interview!’, ‘Predators Among Us!’, all linking to various reuploads of a video.

And so I clicked on one of them.

And I watched and listened...

And listened.

...

And by the end, I understood. I understood why everyone was so fearful. To imagine that... people you knew were secretly predators?

Of course, that is understandable panic for anyone who wasn’t me. Who didn’t join the Exchange Program in the early days and had a lot of exposure to humans, actual predators. For someone who wasn’t working as a receptionist for an exterminator office long enough for the word ‘predatory’ to lose any sense of significant meaning. For someone who... wasn’t quite literally a predator themselves, unable to survive without consuming blood of their own. Plus, hearing the shock of Captain Sovlin, who was also there for some reason, was more than enough to convince me that there was no elaborate lie on the part of the gojid and other affected species. They were just as fooled.

The amount of calls queued was nearing a hundred. I was almost ready to pick up the next one, when my pad rang with a call.

Yeelva.

She was obviously very suspicious of the humans... I was worried as to what she had to say. But I definitely needed to know before I could get back to work, so I picked up.

“Ramvek, have you heard the news?” She asked quickly, in a harried tone I never heard from her.

“Y-Yeah...” I answered.

“Good. Listen, I am going directly to the town center. There will be chaos and I need to mitigate it. Get on that phone and tell everyone begging for help that there is no threat and nothing is changing. Get through calls fast. We need people reassured and calmed. Damn it, why did it have to happen when we were so short pawed...” She quietly swore before continuing on with the instructions. “If you get any of those new ‘predators’ though... Focus on reassuring them. I’m already getting word from other places that things are just as bad all over the whole planet.”

“I’ll... do my best.” I firmly answered. That was basically most of my job, after all – convincing overly panicked people that they were actually safe and there was nothing to worry about.

“Good. I’ll contact you once we get some sort of directives from regional Magistratta. If we even get one... They always forget us...” Yeelva being nervous enough to quietly rant was not reassuring, but... I just had to get back to it.

One part of her instructions did stick with me though. ‘New predators’ had to be gojid, krakotl and the others, right? My mind flashed to that gojid on the phone, crying and asking us to send someone to... get rid of a predator and... make it... painless…

The sudden influx of information made my concentration slip, so the moment my thinking slowed down I could hear it. A heartbeat. A heartbeat that felt so loud, it was surprising I couldn’t hear it in a normal venlil way. Desperate, loud and fast... And coming from the armory.

Belmer was a gojid. Alone. With access to exterminator equipment… And distinctly not in the breakroom where the exterminators normally relaxed when not on assignment or patrol.

I dropped my headset and rushed into the back of the building. It was good that he was alive. It was very much not good that he was where he was. As I made it to the armory door, it was locked, as it should have been. All exterminators had access, while I didn’t though, which meant that I couldn’t get in. So instead I knocked on the door.

“Belmer? Are you in there?” I asked.

There was no reply, but the heart skipped a beat. He was startled and then started... fidgeting. With something in his paws. Still not responding.

I knew what was in the armory. I still caught a few glimpses inside in the past, even if I never actually touched any of the equipment. And the idea that Belmer might be actively doing something with one of those pieces was extremely concerning.

“Belmer! I know you’re in there!” I called out again.

No response. Just the heartbeat intensifying more and more fidgeting and fiddling. I was getting more and more concerned. Without bothering to try and get him to open, I grabbed the door handle and tried pulling it. The door rattled slightly, but didn’t budge. I gave it a stronger yank and it rattled more.

Belmer’s heartbeat intensified further. I could hear him getting more concerned.

“Crap...” I mumbled. I decided to try the door one more time. I put both my paws on the handle, stepped back and tugged at it with my body’s full force–

And with a loud cracking sound the lock got yanked out of the wall as the door swung open and I was flung back from the impact of my own pull. But I quickly stood back up, only to see Belmer in the armory, staring back at me, his jaw hanging open in shock. The doorframe was half torn out of the wall, and I... was holding the door handle in one of my paws still. It was a wonder the door was even still attached to its hinges...

I briefly recalled Mark talking about vampiric strength. But I also dismissed the thought as I had a much bigger issue on my paws – Belmer. Despite his moment of shock, he was still visibly shaking, which explained the fiddling sounds. In his paws were a flamethrower and a tank and he was struggling and failing to get it reloaded, it seemed. At least, he was struggling to do so while keeping the weapon pointed at himself...

“D-Don’t come closer!” Belmer called out to me, dropping the tank and raising one of his pale, clawed paws. “I-I’m dangerous!”

Maybe I should have listened, especially since he dropped the flamethrower fuel... But at the moment I was single-minded in making sure he was not doing anything stupid. And that included trying to disarm him even of an entirely unloaded flamethrower. So, without thinking about it, I dashed forward and reached out to grab that flamethrower.

I was successful, and I didn’t even have to apply any force. Belmer was barely holding it, so I took it and tossed it aside. Then I realized he was staring at me in abject horror. I panicked, stepping back and checking myself. Did I let my eye color change? Or fangs show? No, that was fine... Was my sudden feat of strength what did it?

None of that, it turned out, as I patted over my own chest with my paws and felt sticky wetness. Then I looked up and saw Belmer’s claws, slightly stained with dark orange.

Oh. He was holding his claws forward trying to stop me as I rushed him. And I got cut on those. And didn’t even notice.

“No... nonono... It’s a-already starting!” The gojid panicked, his voice rising. His eyes drifted from me to his bloodstained hand. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! Th-that’s... why I wanted to... do that... I... I am a predator... A d-danger to others... As an exterminator, I–”

As he kept speaking and I slowly processed his words... I felt something welling up in me that was very inappropriate for the situation. Outrage.

Did nobody even bother actually properly listening to that undercover questioning? The ‘predator’ species as we know them now were probably more prey than us, having been made incapable of consuming flesh at all! While... I was actually forced to consume actual, real venlil blood to survive! He was acting like he was a monster when nothing at all changed other than him learning some of his ancestors may have been predators, while I had to struggle with things as simple as crossing a river or going outside without lathering myself in a weird cream made out of stars know what, as I was way too afraid to ask about the animal components I knew full well humans use in their damn skincare products, thanks to Vic!

I grabbed his bloodied claws and brought them closer to his face.

“Go on.” I said, feeling spiteful at everything.

“W-What?” He balked at me in shock.

“You’re a predator, no? This must look delicious to you. Go on.” I repeated. It did look good to me, but thankfully I had a good breakfast, including one for my thirst. Plus, for some reason my own blood just didn’t look... appetizing. I wasn’t sure if it was because of it being vampire blood or just my own blood specifically. Not the time to think about it either.

“No! I don’t want to!” Belmer pulled back, managing to free his claw from my grasp and shaking it, getting blood off of it. “Why would I, it’s disgusting and horrible and...”

“And it’s very not predatory for you to not want that.” I spoke, stepping back and checking out my own state. The wound wasn’t actually deep at all, and aside from my wool being stained with a natural blood-orange color, there was barely even a sign of injury.

“I... B-But what if my instincts... awaken and I d-do start wanting it?” He still insisted, only irritating me more. I almost wished I could just show him what I really was to demonstrate that he wasn’t at all a ‘prey turned predator’ he thought he was... But it would expose my secret to someone with a particularly loose tongue and no prior preparation.

And as I thought a bit further, I froze up, realizing how... upset I was. Maybe Belmer had a point, but not regarding himself, but rather regarding me, unknowingly. Maybe I did have some sort of predatory instinct that was now awakening, making me unreasonably angry... Or maybe... It was the first time I felt like I had a right to be mad at someone for acting like they had it worse than me, however unaware he was.

“Listen...” I began, trying to focus on being reasonable and logical. “You’ve seen lots of people being injured before. And never felt the urge to eat them, right?”

“Of course not!” Belmer shouted, sounding borderline offended.

“Well, then your instincts are as strong as a human’s.” I said, moving my ears more upright in a smug expression. “I am talking with one regularly over the pad and live across from another as of recently. Are you really going to say you handled your ‘hidden instincts’ your whole life, and now you’re going to fail at what they’ve been succeeding at?”

“No!” Belmer stomped his foot. “I am not worse than humans! I just... worry about the safety of others!”

“We don’t even know if the report is true yet!” I threw both my paws up. “For all we know that Cilany woman might have fabricated it! And even if it were true, Nikonus literally said you guys were properly fixed or something like that. Do you really think he’d have allowed predators into the Federation otherwise?”

“I... well...” Belmer looked like he was confused on whether to sound more angry or more desperate. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” He finally cried out, falling down onto his knees and wrapping his arms around them, half-curling himself into a white, spiky ball.

I was worried I may have gone too far, but he didn’t start crying or anything so maybe not.

“Listen. I need to get back to the phone because there are a lot of people being dumb, even dumber than you. Just...” I flicked my tail in the direction of the door. “At least go to the breakroom and rest there. Wait until we learn literally anything else. Some form of official response. Right?”

“Right... Gotta... wait for proper orders.” Belmer answered, slowly uncurling himself and looking up at me. “Do you... need help...?”

I looked at where he was looking as he asked that and realized he was staring at my injured chest. I ruffled my paw in the bloodied fur, but it came out only a little bit damp. The wound wasn’t even bleeding anymore. Admittedly, I had no clue if it was thanks to vampiric constitution or because it was that minor to begin with. Not like I felt any pain.

Without even thinking I idly licked my paw. My own blood... tasted okay. Not nearly as good as blood from the bags, but also not at all bad. Maybe a bit... unrefreshing. Failing to properly sate that other kind of thirst.

“Ramvek, I get it, I get it, I’m not a real predator, you don’t gotta do that!” Belmer suddenly screamed, clutching his head.

I realized what I was doing and, more importantly, in front of whom. I froze up briefly, darting my eyes, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Uh... I was just disinfecting...?” I offered, rubbing the saliva-covered paw onto where the wound was supposed to be.

“You should have started by washing your paws!” The albino gojid shouted. “Ugh, nevermind, I... I’ll go to the breakroom and... try to rest... My head hurts now, this is too much...”

With that, he went around me and headed for the breakroom. Well, that was successful enough. I briefly considered closing the armory to make sure he doesn’t get any temptations, but with the door now thoroughly broken, it wasn’t closing regardless of whether I had the key or not, so I left it as is. I have decided not to push my stupid vampiric hearing down though, and rather let it be the background noise. To keep track of Belmer, just in case. Not for hunting, but for his safety. I could easily tell that his heartbeat, while still intense, was notably lower than earlier and that he was now on the breakroom couch, laying face down.

Finally, I let out a satisfied breath. I saved him. Then I recalled that of the exterminators we had, he was not the only newfound ‘predator’, so I rushed back to the reception to get my pad... Only to see a message from Jarcha.

‘Ramvek, please check on Belmer. I am with Kramelin. He was not well but better now.’

I let out another breath of relief and quickly typed out that I stopped Belmer from doing anything stupid. Not being most talkative, Jarcha simply acknowledged my reply with an affirmative earflick emoji.

With all the office members accounted for, I could return to my actual job. I sat down, put the headset on and pressed the button to answer the next call.

“Predators! Predators everywhere!” The venlil screamed the moment the line connected.

This was going to be one long shift...

---

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A/N: I won't lie, this one kicked my ass. I'm not the best at writing battles, so I decided to do something different.

Memory Transcription Subject: Specialist Bellona, Mars Alliance Intelligence Turingrade Officer
Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2150

Heaven was alight with the fire of war. Ships like mini-suns burned as candles against the backdrop of infinity.

It was dazzling, even to Bellona’s non-existent eyes.

The Federation had next to no cyberwarfare division. Their cybersecurity was worse than any predictions. Humanity had better systems a hundred years ago. Bellona felt disappointed, in fact. They had prepared and planned for a Hail Mary that, if successful, was supposed to be a trump card for humanity’s survival.

A regular human hacker could probably have done the job.

Usually, this would have been good news, a gift from the gods, a windfall for humanity. There were, however, two small problems.

First, Bellona needed to be careful not to overclock the Federation computer systems. If she did that, she risked giving herself brain damage. Honestly, the best defense the Federation had against her was thier own cyber primitivism. She was still able to gain access to the ship systems, which was trivial.

The second problem was Commander Sato.

She kept a constant eye on him. Sato, who had undergone weeks of preparation and modification to become the perfect prisoner. A man who could, for all intents and purposes, no longer feel pain—a man who could not be tortured.

Sato… who had spent days in a cell being fed the bland gruel of vegetables that the prey species seemed to love above all else. When he wasn’t eating, he was staring at a wall and making castles out of plates and bowls. All those gene mods and preparations, and for nothing, because their enemy actually had some sort of personal moral code.

Ironic.

Why was this a problem?

Fairly simple.

Bellona no longer accepted the mission parameters. This had been, from the beginning, essentially a suicide mission. Jack had only been meant to get Bellona to the fleet and act as a distraction. As he was tortured to death, Bellona was supposed to crack the fleet open. 

Bellona herself was semi-expendable. If possible, she was supposed to escape, but if that wasn’t possible, then that was it.

Jack did not have to die.

His death was no longer a certainty. He could be saved, but to do that, she needed to get… creative.

The last thing she was going to let happen was for Jack to be blown up in a metal box by UN gunships.

No… she had a very different idea, and Admiral Kalsim was ever so obliging. She almost felt bad for him, but… not quite.

A smart man would have realized the mission was non-optimal and changed it. A flexible man would have chosen to preserve his forces for the future. It was perhaps unfair to say Kalsim was dumb, but he was a focused and rigid bird, and one dedicated to what he viewed as victory. His long game, as it were.

The way Kalsim saw it, the humans needed to be broken. They needed to be scattered, or else the Federation would be sandwiched between two hostile powers. The Arxur would chop the Federation up, but humanity would spread like a plague, conquering all it could. Together, the Arxur and humanity would carve out empires from the Federation’s corpse.

Kalsim was probably more right than he feared.

Whatever the case, Kalsim did exactly what Bellona hoped he would do. He ignored all military doctrine and gave the order to break ranks and charge. Like the Athenians at Marathon, they charged in a final attempt at victory, ignoring the human fleet, ignoring the great wall of habitats that acted as a wall in space.

The goal was to get into orbit, rain down antimatter death, and then scatter. All ships were supposed to take different routes out of the system and meet back at pre-arranged points.

One reason they had to scatter was the intrusion of two unexpected guests into this fight. The first was a truly pitiful fleet of Federation “allies.” The other intruder was a ten-thousand-strong fleet of Arxur ships.

Bellona didn’t understand Elias Meier. How could the Terrans ever elect to the seat of Secretary-General a man so insecure in his own people’s ability to fight and win? The man had opened up the Federation worlds to butchery and had officially aligned the UN, and Mars by extension, with a ragtag outfit of cannibal alligators.

Disgraceful.

At least they brought help that humanity could use. Together, the Arxur and Humanit had reduced the tonnage disadvantage. Counting the space stations and smaller patrol vessels, you could argue forces had, in the past hour, reached parity.

Credit where it was due, the Feddies didn’t panic, thanks in part to their leader. Kalsim’s plan might have worked under other circumstances.

The UN fleet had made contingencies in case Kalsim did this, but it was clear nobody had actually thought he would. Almost any sense of order was lost, and soon nearly twenty thousand warships were crashing through the HEO Zone and into MEO. Between them and Earth were a hundred or so retrofitted habitats. Behind them was the combined might of the haphazardly cobbled-together Human-Arxur-Allied fleet, numbering nearly twenty thousand ships.

Bellona had waited until the absolute last moment, making sure maximum propulsion was engaged. She was weighing the lives of thousands of servicemen and civilians against the life of her commanding officer.

Kalsim’s fleet got within effective firing range of low orbit. As one, the fleet opened up, focusing on a few spots to break through.

Bellona struck.

Memory Transcription Subject: Admiral Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command 
Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2150

Kalsim woke with a start, his head having been knocked against the jostling bulkhead. For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was or what had happened. His mind was like putty in his claws, refusing to mold into something solid.

He was in a… shuttle.

There was a Farsul. Thyon, the Farsul officer, forced upon him. He looked worried as he shook him.

“Captain… Captain!”

Something was pressed against Kalsim’s neck, and all at once, the world came back to him. The medical officer, Zarn, stepped back as Kalsim regained his bearings. 

It all flooded back to him: The battle. The charge through the last line of Earth’s defenses. Then… the skull.

On every monitor. In every microphone. Coming from every data pad. 

It had been a picture of a human skull with two bone-like objects crossed beneath it.

The skull had been laughing. That image of a human skull, a grotesque symbol that could only have meant death, was like a plague to his men and women. It was an attack on thier minds and souls. A vile predatory symbol. 

As the symbol played, the ship had basically shut down. They couldn’t operate the weapons, couldn’t control the engines, couldn’t even communicate.

Outside the Kalsim to watch his fleet, the greatest single military operation ever assembled by the Federation, being ripped apart as they fell like rain upon the predators’ homeworld. Those metal beasts had been guarding the shuttles and escape pods, and many of them had been ripped apart as well.

They were the lucky ones.

Those who survived the roaring holocaust had a much worse fate.

Why? Where did it all go wrong?

The Human

Kalsim remembered.

“Oh, Kalsim! I hope you like our homecoming present!” the human shouted from the far side of the hangar.

The ship’s emergency lights cast him in deathly hues of black and red. Krakotl's blood caked his body like grotesque paint. He was smiling with a madness that put the Arxur to shame.

It was him.

Somehow, the human was responsible. They were more dangerous than he had feared. Kalsim wanted to shout, to laugh, maybe even cry, as his group of survivors rushed toward a shuttle, ignoring the human. Even the ever-zealous Zarn ignored him.

“When you get to Earth, I suggest either surrendering or saving a bullet for yourself.”

“Captain,” Jala said in her usual tone of disinterest. “We have a situation.”

Kalsim got up, shaking off the memory of the human. He had to survive. He had to get back to the Federation and warn them.

He surveyed his group grimly.

There were eight of them: Kalsim, Jala, Thyon, Zarn, three members of the command staff, and one proper soldier.

He strode forward and slammed the release hatch. The door opened, and the shuttle was buffeted by warm, wet heat. The sounds of avians and other animals resonated through the forest along with the telltale signs of atmospheric entry. Perhaps from other escapees. Other survivors.

They had landed in the middle of a jungle. Jungles are every Extermination officer's worst nightmare. They had some of the denses concentration of predators in any biome. The general procedure usually involved cauterizing the entire infected area. 

This was going to be difficult.

[First][Pre][Next]

Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: August 20, 2333

Our patrol ship drifted across the void with a very nervous Marcel at the helm. This was one of his first times flying a proper ship, and it was clear he wasn't very comfortable with the controls yet, even if the ship was mostly made using human tech.

I sat behind him, mostly mulling over what Seln and Kar'ny had talked about during breakfast. The two of them had apparently been comparing the federation's established science of predators being inherently dangerous to nature with the beliefs of our new allies held, and they'd come to the conclusion that we might have been wrong about some things, which opened up some... less than pleasant possibilities.

I looked at Marcel. Most venlil, including me, had assumed that the humans and the Ur'nu were some sort of fluke, a glitch in the evolutionary process, predators who learned to suppress their destructive natures and somehow developed empathy. Now though...

"Hey Marcel?"

"Yeah, bud?" He answered, not turning away from the monitor in front of him.

"If humans believe predators are necessary for a healthy biosphere, then how do you deal with predator attacks back home?" Did predators even have to worry about those?

"Well, they're pretty rare for starters. Most people live in cities, and most cities are so loud and strange that they scare most wild animals. The only real 'predators' in the city are dogs, cats, rats, raccoons, and certain birds... and of course, insects." He said nonchalantly.

"W...wait, you have predators living in your settlements and you just... let them?"

"Yep, insects, rats, birds, and raccoons are too numerous to fully get rid of, and cats and dogs are domesticated."

Domesticated, a word I'd only ever known to be applied to crops, and Marcel was suggesting they did the same to actual predators, W...Wh... What do you use those domesticated predators for?"

Marcel froze up slightly but didn't immediately answer.

"I...It's hunting, isn't it?" I guessed.

"...Yes," He said with some hesitation, "Cats mostly worked as pest control and dogs served many different purposes depending on the breed, but hunting was one of them. That being said, both of them are more commonly just used as pets nowadays."

"How do you... How do you keep them from attacking you?"

"We just train them well. Dogs and cats are both social animals, so if you treat them well, they can be very friendly. I know this might sound a little weird to you, but a lot of predators on earth and armtis are actually less aggressive than some herbivores."

I gawked at Marcel as if he'd just grown a second head. In what world could prey be more violent than predators? Everyone knew prey were naturally docile and empathetic.

"I'm starting to think Earth and Armtis really are the exceptions, because what you're describing sounds nothing like the predators on Venlil Prime, or any federation world for that matter. "

"Who knows," Marcel said quietly. "Then again, it's not really our job to figure that stuff out, now is it? Though I'd like to think the Ur'nu and us aren't the only ones like us out there."

"Even if you are, you still have the venlil." I offered. " And the rest of the federation might eventually accept you. "

"I know that, it's just,... I guess it just feels a little isolating to step into the universe and find out almost everyone hates you because of what you are." I sighed. "I just wish people could stop comparing us to the Arxur. Why are they even like that anyway?"

“I wanted to ask you that, Marc. We believed that predators evolve through warfare. Killing and cruelty—isn’t it a survival advantage to you?”

“Well, I... killing, yes. Killing the competition, or the dangerous things that lurk in the night, I suppose that’s how we became predators. We aren’t natural ones, you know. We were once prey animals, not too long ago, and we used cooperation to survive.”

“What?! And you chose to be like them?!”

"We're not like the Arxur," Marcel growled before deflating slightly, "I mean... yes, some humans have done truly terrible things in the past, and we've fought gruesome wars, but we never strived to be monsters like the Arxur. We're stupid and shortsighted, but we've always tried to be better. Especially after the decline."

Before I could inquire as to the nature of this “decline”, shrill alarms blared from the ship’s computer. Nine indicators popped up on the scanner feed, suggesting inbound Arxur bombers. The flurry of activity when the humans arrived must have piqued their interest. The reptilians loved to target weak links, and an isolated station such as our lodging was just that.

The non-sapient onboard AI calculated their trajectory and suggested arming nearby FTL disruptor charges. A tactic that was frequently employed to slow Arthur down while waiting for reinforcements. Before even thinking about engaging, however, I switched on the comms link. “Prime Outpost, we’re reading nine Arxur bombers en route. Figure they have you as their target.”

“Fuck. We have to stop them at all costs.” The exhaustion was evident in the male Venlil’s voice that answered. I couldn’t imagine how much stress the officers were under, monitoring the UN arrivals. “The first large transport of humans, and a couple of hundred wind up dead? They’ll never forgive us. They’ll never send anyone again…”

“Um, sir, my human partner can hear you,” I said.

“Oh. Right. This is General Kam from Venlil Command. We copy you. The human Ur'nu union has some prototype ships patrolling the area. I request that they get back to the station and form up with our ships there. Stall for time in any way you can.”

I drew a shaky breath. “Yes, sir. We’ll do our best.”

Nausea swelled in my throat as I synced the ship computer with the disruptor beacons lining the border. My mind strayed to its usual dark corner: replaying my brother’s funeral. The shock was still as fresh as it was months ago, when I first learned that his transport ship was gunned down. There wasn’t a trace left to remember him by; no body to recover.

Would I be the next to fall by the Arxur’s claws?

Every instinct told me to flee; to put as much distance between us and those monsters as possible. However, the pulses needed to be timed down to the nanosecond, which meant our proximity was a necessity. My brain felt overstimulated, as if my senses were set aflame.

Being around a human for hours…it’s pushed me to my limit. It’s hard to think, with my nerves all frazzled. I pondered with a tinge of guilt. How selfish I am. I haven’t even considered how Marc is feeling.

I hoped the wordless Marcel was okay with the peril we were in. He had loved ones back on Earth, including a wife whom he spoke of with fondness. He didn’t want to die here. There was no data on how the primates behaved in life-threatening situations, or how they coped with stress.

Despite our situation, however, my exchange partner didn't really look scared. Rather, he looked focused. It was obvious he was nervous, though just by looking at his hands, which trembled slightly before being forcefully stilled.

I tried to follow his lead, taking a deep breath as I watched the Arxur ships approach on screen. I triggered the charges the moment they were in range, causing the ships to be forcefully and violently ripped out of warp, an experience that most have been disorienting for the monsters on board as their ship drifted for a moment before they started moving in formation again.

As they did, the ships' alarms began going off again, informing us that the arxur were set to intercept us. What happened next was even more concerning as our ship began racing towards them.

"Marcel, what are you doing?" I asked as the bombers got ever closer.

"Kam told us to buy time, so that's what we're going to do. I'm just going to try and take out their engines." He said, still keeping that same mostly calm expression, even if his tone of voice betrayed some level of nervousness.

"ARE YOU CRAZY!? I screeched.

Marcel didn't reply and just kept flooring it towards the approaching arxur.

The arxur, for their part, seemed confused by our sudden aggression, as they were slow to fire, giving our more nimble ship a chance to get behind the first two bombers and release a volley of shots that rendered their engines useless.

Seeing the small cluster of explosions that indicated a successful hit, my partner began cheering, "HELL YEAH, take that, you cold-blooded bastards!" and I had to admit it was weirdly exhilarating seeing the Arxur get a taste of their own medicine, even if I'd still much rather retreat.

Marcel wasted no time in continuing his attack, releasing a stream of fire towards a third bomber. Our shots must have hit something vital as a chain of detonations bloomed across the vessel before it finally went dark.

That's where our luck ended, though, as the computer warned us both of the now six target locks that were on our ship. I made eye contact with Marcel, his face betraying a slight worry.

“Run?” I whimpered.

Marcel cleared his throat. “Yep. Good idea.”

The human pointed the ship in the direction of the Federation border. Why wasn’t he trying to return to the outpost? The last remnants of my logical brain suggested that he was trying to lure the Arxur away. I winced as my harness chafed into my neck. Our inertial dampeners were struggling to keep up with our blistering acceleration.

Only one Arxur ship gave chase, while the rest returned to their intended course. They couldn’t resist sending someone to hunt a straggler down.

Marcel engaged our warp drive, and moments later, we slipped into subspace with the bomber in hot pursuit.

First/previous

Memory transcript subject Targan, [Error] Location, [Error]

Date [Standardised human time]: [Error]

*Where...?*

It was dark, so dark I couldnt make out my surroundings...though I could almost see...shapes in that darkness. I took a step forward and immediately found myself staring at what must have been a hundred-thousand different copies of myself. The blackness lifting to reveal a sea of grey shapes, scales and open maws. I was stunned, terrified even but-

"Where is she..?" I almost didn't recognise it but the voice belonged to Wes, the human seemed to materialise as he pushed his way forth from the crowd. He seemed somewhat frustrated but... I wasn't sure why. "Targan, come on, he's waiting for you!"

*Who? Who would be-?*

"Ah there you are!" Leara called out, flapping her way toward me and landing just beside the human. When I looked back, I was now in some sort of a dressing room. My duplicates had vanished leaving a mirror in their place, as if they had never been present in the first place. I didn't recognise the reflection though, what I saw in the mirror wasn't *me*. I saw a short, well-groomed, fluffy Venlil with heavily stylised, pearl white wool.

"That's-" I faltered and found myself speechless as the Venlil woman's mouth moved to match my words. The paws moved up and felt at her fur-collar, sinking into the cloud-like wool. The tail waved behind me and it moved just how a Venlil's was supposed to, carefully and with grace. I looked down at...my paws, clawless and soft. This...this was-

"Is she ready yet? It's almost time!" That voice...it was one of Nivar's sisters wasn't it? I remember now, it was Anvar, the one who- "You look perfect!"

"I...I do?" The voice...it wasn't my own but...a Venlil's, I-

Within moments I felt myself pulled forward, looking down to see my feet matched my hands and yet, they moved how an Arxur would. Slow, lumbering steps that, despite being notably shorter now, still covered the typical distance in each stride. Then...then I looked up...

I was in a vast hall, the whole room filled with seating and walking down a gap that ran its length. The seats were filled with...Venlil, most I didn't recognise, who simply watched as I walked. At my side, Leara was holding my arm with her wing as she matched my pace, Anvar holding the other arm in a similar manner.

"What-what's happening?" I bleated out in confusion, trying to understand the situation I had be thrust into. This whole thing seemed like...a ceremony of some form, one I was certain I had seen before...

*It almost seemed like-*

The thought was cut off as I began to feel excruciating pain running through my abdomen, causing me to collapse to the floor. Nobody reacted to my fall but...everyone had frozen in place, as if in a 3d picture. The pain began to spread, now my chest and muzzle stung, as if to spite me for having dared to question my surroundings.

The mirror was back now, though instead of a reflection I could see the countless duplicate Arxur through it. They copied my actions but...as I moved I could see their skin errupt in horrific wounds, great gashes across their skin, blood dripping to the floor. I looked down and...the fur covered paws had been replaced with grey scales and claws. It...it wasn't real, this...this was just a bad dream like before! I-

"Targan, it's OK. I'm here-" For a brief moment I heard his voice. Then there was silence...

Memory transcript subject Targan, Arxur deserter. Location, Skalga, medical rehabilitation centre in the capital.

Date [Standardised human time]: 15 May, 2138.

The pain wasn't from the dream...my whole body ached and stung, in spite of the numbness my drowsiness provided. But there was more, the feeling of soft blankets, the sound of a regular beeping and...the gentle pressure of something laying against my leg. It was a monumental effort to force my eyelids open, artificial light causing me to squint a little as I roused back into reality.

That's all it was...a dream. My eyes wandered from the ceiling and scanned my surroundings, slowly, given the excruciating headache that had started to set in. I let out a groan, finally turning my attention to the mass that seemed to be using my leg as a pillow.

"N-Niv...ar..." It was agony forcing the air out from my lungs to make the sound but it was more than worth it. The Venlil immediately lifted his head and...he had this look on his face that I could never describe, such an expression of surprised joy. Though after a pause, he began babbling out trying to say so much at once that it all just merged into a cacophony that pounded against my head like a drum, almost spoiling the moment. I managed to raise a hand, which thankfully caused Nivar to stop his...incoherent rambling.

"I...I didn't know if you'd wake up..." He was trying very poorly not to cry, tears were already running down his cheeks and he was visibly trembling. It was difficult to focus, I think I heard someone else speaking followed by some movement but I couldn't tell where or who it was. It didn't matter anyway... "H-how are you feeling?"

"I'm...not dead...that's...some...thing..." Nivar smiled at that, though it faded when I started coughing and my ribs made their displeasure known. He rested a paw on my shoulder to comfort me, I...I'd forgotten how soft his hands were. "How...how long?"

"Two weeks, your exchange partner here never left your side for even a moment." Another voice said, this one I didn't recognise but the speaker soon came into view. A human female wearing a long white coat stood just behind Nivar, a clipboard in her hands and a look of relief on her face. I think it was relief at least... "If I might jump in and just check a couple of things?"

"Of course!" Nivar excitedly answered for me, taking a step back to allow the doctor to work. She performed what I now knew to be some standard tests, flashing a light in my eye and so on. "Y-You're crying, she's not hurting you is she?"

I...I didn't mind the tests of course, I just felt...a little overwhelmed...

*I'm...home...*

So funny story... i had most of this typed out on my phone ready to go... and the app closed without saving as a draft. I was in pain.

Here we go with the end to Duality. It ended up a bit darker than I thought, but I had fun exploring this theme. Got to see some older characters and introduce new ones. Once again, posting from my phones, so ill fix links and formatting when I get home to my computer.

I hope you all enjoy! Please, tell me what you think!

[First] [Prev]

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Memory Transcription Subject: Giidan, Harchen prey
Date [Standard Human Format]: October 15th, 2136

Tree branches whipped by me as I ran, bushes scratching at my scales as I tore through them. RUN, its getting closer! My chest heaved with effort and my legs burned with exhaustion, until I finally saw my salvation. A small burrow hidden under a protruding knotted root, big enough for me to get into and hidden among the blues and oranges of the undergrowth around it. I practically dove into the shelter, body overheating with the amount of effort I had put into running away.

After killing Hunter, the other predator had turned on me and was likely seeking out its next meal. For nearly half a claw now I had run through the forest in a mad dash, always putting distance between me and the beast. But after only a scratch or two of rest whenever I stopped, I could hear the heavy steps of its feet crushing the plants underneath. I would run again as it took a shot with a gun, missing everytime, but causing a nearby tree to explode with the force of whatever bullet it was using. Again, I tried to catch my breath and enter Vinosh to hide better in my burrow, I couldn't keep going like this, my legs were trembling from exhaustion.

"I think I've finally decided what I'm going to do with you when this is over, Boots." My blood freezes as it speaks, the crunch of leaves under its feet echoing in the dim forest. It hadn't even been a scratch yet! "You see, a lot of lizards back on Earth, especially the small ones, will drop their own tail when running. It wiggles around, detached from their bodies so the predator is distracted." I shuddered at that though, of my tail wiggling, separated from me. "But see, most can regrow that tail, full new limb, bones and all!" It laughs, the crunching of its boots getting unnervingly closer. It doesn't know you are here, blend, be quiet, be still like lake water. I close my nictitating lids, gazing through the blurred world and hoping it finds something else to hunt. "So once you realise that this is pointless, and that I will catch you, im going to cut off that tail of yours." It growled and I started to hug the appendage close to my body.

"I wont let you die though. No, that would be too easy for what you and those birds did. Im going to feed you, keep you alive, make sure you are healthy. Boots, we are going to see if that tail regrows." It laughs, and I hold on tight, never knowing how much I had actually cared for my tail until direct threats were being made against it. Whatever it was saying next was lost on me as I held my eternal companion, a pit of fear and loss welling in my chest as I began to imagine life without it. That was, until... "And if it does grow back at the end of it, I'm going to give the idea to the Arxur. Infinite food, infinite tail meat, all to be farmed from you pathetic chameleons." It laughed. "They would love to get a reusable source of food." The crunching stopped, or had stopped a while ago, I didnt know... but now the silence of the forest surrounded me, only my soft pants as I hid myself in the burrow, holding my tail tightly to my chest. Suddenly. A human face appeared upside down in front of me, "BOO!"

I screamed.

Its hand shot out and grabbed at some of the dirt next to me, causing me to flinch back from its missed grab, but it quickly corrected and seized me by my upper arm, effortlessly dragging my light frame out of the burrow and throwing me through the air. I failed uselessly as I soared, back impacting a tree and a sickening pop heard from my spine as I crumpled to the ground below. Deep groans came from my maw as I slowly sat up, lifting myself onto hands and knees. *everything works, now run!* I didnt get the chance. While slowly rising on trembling legs and arms, the predator's boot found my middle, kicking me hard in the ribs. My back impacted the tree once more, breath stolen from my lungs, ribs breaking from the force of the kick, and crumpled against the base of the tree again. Tears streaming from my eyes, pain radiating from my body, I could only whimper as my killer stepped up once more, boots filling my vision. "Pl-please..." I whimper.

"Please what?" Malice dripped from the voice, the beast grabbing me by the wrist and lifting me into the air. "I told you, you couldn't escape. Easiest prey I've ever tracked. Didn't even try to hide your footprints, or the trail of broken leaves and branches you left."

"Please... do-dont c-cut off my tail..." My wrist protested from holding my body weight, held aloft in the predator's grasp. I dont know why that was my request, why I spoke those words... the thought of it eating it in front of me, of being cattle just for the Arxur to continuously cut off and gorge themselves on my tail... "I-I didnt do anything to you... please.. mercy..." I give a final desperate plea, yelping as I was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground, pain radiating from my chest. I sat up as quick as I could, scooting back against the tree, tail curled up into my arms and held by trembling claws.

"Didn't do anything?" It asks again, laughing in a hollow tone. "That's it! You are bullies. How did I not see this earlier? So confident and righteous when you have the upper hand, but take that away and you all turn into sniveling cowards." It crouched down in front of me, those monstrous eyes staring right at me as if it could see straight into my soul. "I was on Earth during the attack you and yours sanctioned." It pulled out a knife, the long blade glistening with red liquid, and lifting my chin using the flat part of the blade. "My house collapsed from the shockwave of one of your bombs. I didnt get caught by any of the rubble. But my dog did." It growled at me, the translator telling me that a dog was a domesticated predator kept for companionship. "I raised her since she was a pup, for 12 years she was my companion, something that kept me steady and sane, a joy." It growled more, fury in its eyes. "I held her in my arms as she died, a slow death that i couldnt stop, i couldnt save her like she...." I could almost see the tears in its eyes, its words stopping as it gulped. "Fuck this, and fuck you Boots." It said, standing up suddenly and turning its back on me. "Fine, wish granted, I wont cut off your tail." It turned, pulling out a pistol and pointing it at me.

It didnt shoot, it just looked at me coldly, watching as I huddled to my own tail. Something changed in its eyes at that moment, fury replaced by sadistic glee. "You are." It said and threw the knife at me, the heavy blade landing in between my legs. "If you cut off your own tail. I'll leave, here and now. You'll never see me again." It held up its hand. "I swear on my predator gods. And I dont break my word." It snarled. "If you dont, I'll shoot you in the gut, let you bleed out nice and alone here in the woods, left to any local predators." I look down at the blade in front of me, revulsion and terror in my eyes as I was given an impossible choice.

"I-I..." I hesitated in reaching, in complying.. my legs had long stopped listening to my commands, my arms barely. BANG The wood by my head splintered out from the gunshot, peppering my scales with splinters.

"I wont miss again Boots, last chance." Choked sobs escaped as I picked up the knife, too afraid to say anything else, too tired to run, too pathetic to not deny him. My tail drops from the protective hold against my chest, lain out in front of me... something I had been protecting and comforting out of fear just moments ago... now I had a knife against the scales... in the short time I had come to fear for it, become aware of its importance to me.. I was now about to cut it off, inflict so much pain on myself.. Just to survive. I tremble more, hands shaking.

"N-no.. I can't." I lift my head, cheekscales stained with tears, scales deeply etched with fear and a vibrant orangem. But the small emerald green seeping in as I felt a small bit of confidence fill me. If I was going to die today, I would have a bit of courage, I wasn't going to give into the predator's demands. "I-I wont do it." The knife dropped from my paws and I clutched my tail close to me once more. Tears still streamed from my eyes, fear gripping me tightly. *I dont want to die, I dont want to die, I dont...* but I would defy this predator's last cruelty on me, even if it was the last thing I ever did.

"Damn Boots, way to grow a pair at the last minute." He laughed and raised the pistol once more. "Still wont change anything." I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain.

BANG

A howl of pain erupted, piercing through the dawn sky, but it wasn't my own. My eyes cracked open, looking down at my own body. Chest had turquoise bruising already showing on the scales, evidence of my broken ribs and the boot that hit me. However, no holes.. no external blood, nothing. My gaze drifts up and I gasp sharply, pain stabbing through my chest. The predator's arm was lying on the ground, weapon still held in its grasp, while the beast itself was doubled over on the ground, howling in pain and clutching its severed arm at the elbow. Red blood pooled on the ground below him and his severed arm, staining the beautiful blues. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck! What the fucking shit?!" It howled its string of curses into the air, completely forgetting about me.

Every instinct screamed at me to run from the injured predator, lest I become its target for retribution, but my legs refused to listen, too exhausted. I had run so much over the past few days, the only break having been when I was traveling with Hunter. I had been running before that, and after, with only that human being the one to give me a break from the madness of the world. From the exterminators in the bunker, the olgarl in this forest, to finally the crazed human who had described cutting off my tail and cooking it. When did it say it was going to eat it? Oh.. before the Arxur part.. my subconscious told me, and I knew in that moment I was going to dream about its threats. My mind racing, but my body limp, I could only sit there as the crazed and injured human thrashed around before finally sitting still and letting out a whine. Its head shot up and I flinched as it fixed me with those dirty mud eyes. "You." It growled squeezing its stump. "I dont know how, but you did this. You called your exterminator fuckshit friends to finish the job." It accused, staggering over to its fallen arm. "I ain't gonna let you go. One less of you xeno bastards. One less.." he reached down and picked the gun up, trying useless fingers off the handle.

"I wouldnt do that Chris." Came a pained voice from my behind my tree. I watched slowly as the familiar human stepped into my field of view, limping slowly around my side until it was standing in front, between me and the predator. Labored breath came from Hunter, white bandages wrapped around his thigh and shoulder, sorrowful red soaking the otherwise pristine cloth. "Ive called the UN already. Dont add actual murder to the one you already attempted." It said, pained voice clearly evident.

"Fuck you, you can barely stand. Get out of my way and let me kill this asshole." It said, bringing the pistol up and waving it wildly. "I killed you once. I can do it again. Maybe Boots will leave you for dead again, just like last time." It cackled, causing my human to flinch.

"You can't stand either, put the gun down so I can get a tournequet on you, dont bleed out for this." It growled. "Last warning Chris."

For once there was no curse, no foul words or witty comebacks. The two simply staring at each other for a scant moment, Chris with pistol in hand, Hunter with that rifle on its back. In a scratch of time, four shots rang out. Nothing was quick, but it all happened too fast. Chris had lifted and fired its pistol twice, the first shot going wide and shattering a tree nearby as it stumbled with blood gushing out of its severed arm. The second shot simply clicked uselessly, not bullet fired, no bang. It was simply out of ammo from trying to shoot me earlier, by Inatala's grace it had run out of projectiles with that first shot in the standoff. Hunter had no such issues with the hidden gun it had on its ankle. At the first shot, it dropped to a knee and grabbed the small thing from the holster on its ankle. Three quick shot fired in succession, one hitting the other predator in the chest, causing the stumble, and another landing directly between its eyes. The third shot flew short, kicking up dirt as the effort from those two shots cause it to collapse.

Chris's head snapped back and its body collapsed like a puppet's strings being cut, no final words, no quips, no obscenities. The predator simply ceased to be. "Damn it Chris.." The Hunter groaned out, slowly getting to its feet and limping over to check its kill. Its banaged were more red now and i didnt think it would last much longer losing that much blood. "You okay over there Giidan?" Its visored head looked over to me and it began to limp over. There was no warmth, no friendliness in its voice this time. It was simply asking a question you would a stranger to the herd, nothing like how it had been when it first found me, first saved my life. "Damn it, why am I asking?" It groaned and settled down by a tree nearby mine, leaning back.

"How did.. how did you find us?"

"Well, you two were making a ton of noise after you left me to die. After you ran. A deaf monkey could have followed you two."

"Why? Why did you save me again?" I ask, tears welling in my eyes.

"Because I'm better than you. Because I wont leave a person in front of me to die alone. If none of you will show empathy, I will. It's what my son would have wanted." There was nothing more to be said, I hung my head in shame. I had stampeded away to save my own scales, dirt-etched the entire time. And it had somehow gotten up from being shot in the leg and then stabbed... and still saved me again. Before either of us could say anything more, the hiss of a shuttle landing nearby greeted us, and I saw zurulian medics come out of the doors, rushing to me and and hunter.

"Sorry." I finally said before passing out, head lolling to the side.

~~~~~~~

Memory Transcription Subject: Ziaan, Harchen speaker
Date [Standard Human Format]: October 19th

I hate this, I hate every bit of this. The humans came in and took over in less than two claws worth of time. I had been quick to accept their terms of surrender when they burst into my office, saving the lives of myself and my assistant. All things considered, the loss of life had been minimal after, and besides exterminators and soldiers, no civilians had been harmed... except one. "Should we play it again Speaker?" My assistant asks, looking over the video of a debriefing of one Giidan as he lays in his hospital bed. "The humans could be telling him to lie, threatening him." The Letian offers.

I had heard of Giidan before, scriptwriter for some of the better movies that came around. His works usually made for an enjoyable watch. But now his tail never left his claws, clutched to his body like it was going to fall off. And he kept asking to see a human by the name of 'Double H.' "Alright, play it once more." I flick my tail and sit back.

Giidan sits on his hospital bed, a venlil with a blue UN band around its right arm. It has a pad in hands, ready to take notes, at this point in the debrief they had already established names and basic events. "But why were you fleeing the bunker Giidan? We have multiple videos from security cameras and soldiers that show you stampedeing in full panic towards the forest, running through soldiers who were trying to stop you and usher you to safety." He spoke, Giidan shuffling nervously. "Why would you run to the predator infested forest, and away from the bunker with your herd?"

"Be-because... the exterminators..." The harchen took a breath. "They thought were were going to lose... they knew fighting the humans was fruitless... they told the herd as much." He gulped. "Death before cattle. The bunker was divided between those who gave up, and those who wanted to wait. So the exterminators made the final decision for the herd." He closed his eyes, visibly shaking as his scales turned to orange. "Without warning they turned their flamers on the bunker. We had no other weapons, nothing to make it quick. I-I can still hear the screams. I was closest to the door, and I didn't want to die." He turned his head at this point, closing one eye so he wasn't looking at the Venlil. One tried to grab me, drag me back into the bunker. I had to kick him free from the grip he had on my other leg." He began to visibly shake. "Th-that is why I was running." The video paused here.

Everything else was about what happened in the forest, something we all knew about since both Humans involved had been wearing 'body cameras'. We had seen the view of Double H saving giidan from the Olgarl, openly eating meat in front of him, but being empathetic and helping him to safety. We had seen Chris intrude and attack Hunter, putting him in a critical state. Only to get up and bandage himself so he could go save Giidan again. It was clear that H didnt have any love for us before, but was making an effort to forgive... after being abandoned by the one he saved, it had hardened him once more. The human still wore the mask everywhere to not frighten anyone, but he never spoke to prey anymore. He would have a permanent limp from the gunshot, but would recover quickly with the help of zurulian medicine.

Then there was Chris... the human that had actively hunted the Harchen. Both Kolia and I had sworn we wouldnt share the contents of this video with anyone, and we were being compensated for it. The human never stopped his pursuit of Giidan, calmly following the trail, shouting out threats and obscene promises to Giidan. The UN assured me again and again that this was not the standard for humans, that everyone viewed this man's actions as vile and criminal. I could understand why Giidan never let go of his tail, hugging it for comfort the entire time. I had a promise to talk to a UN general about this, to find out what they planned.

I sighed, turning off the interview. This incident had shown me two different sides to humanity... one full of hate and surrendering to those predator instincts.. the other full of the same hate, but working to lessen the harm inflicted on everyone. The only question left was which one was more common? "Come on Kolia.. let's walk Inatala’s Square, maybe we will see an artist still out." I sigh, hoping to salvage the day.

Transcription memory, subject: Martin Quintanilla, head of the farm (maybe) and human representative of the commercial and cultural exchange program (also maybe)

Standard Human Time: December 05, 2137

"C-Can we... Can we stop? J-Just for a moment."

"No, you already made a stop 5 minutes ago."

"That didn't count, Ozzy stopped to do his business," Lyra said between tired gasps. "It's not my fault he doesn't recognize the place and it took him so long to decide where to do."

"Well, that counts as a break for me, so let's keep going." The complaints were becoming more and more frequent, her voice increasingly laden with weariness and annoyance as our pace slowed.

"No." With a wet thud, Lyra collapsed on the ground, water and mud rushing into her boots through the seam of the suit, raindrops soaking her face. "I'm not taking another step, at least not until I catch my breath," she gasped.

I wanted to protest, but I knew she'd truly reached her limit. Demanding more would be as futile as expecting a tree to bear fruit simply because I ordered it to. Despite the wool covering her face, an orange glow shone on her cheeks, and her ears seemed to pulse in an attempt to expel the stifling heat from the long walk.. The rain, which we had so desperately tried to avoid soaking us, now seemed like the best ally we could have; each drop dissipated a little of the heat, steadying her breathing and giving her racing heart a respite.

"I don't know how exterminators can wear these things every day. These boots are killing me." With one swift motion, Lyra ripped off both her boots and threw them as far as her tired arms would allow. There really wasn't much point in continuing to wear them as water and mud had already seeped inside. "I don't care if my paws get wet anymore. I'd much rather that than keep torturing myself with these things." With a tremendous effort, she reached for her hind paws and massaged them a little. Small abrasions had begun to form between each claw and on the pads, a consequence of wearing unsuitable footwear for long distances, or of wearing any footwear in the first place, in her case...

"I warned you it would be tiring..." I couldn't help but respond with brutal honesty, something that didn't go unnoticed judging by the furious look Lyra gave me in response.

I, too, was starting to feel cramps in my legs. The price of not sleeping properly, barely eating breakfast and carrying Lyra's backpack was beginning to show.

The only one who didn't seem to feel the miles passing by his paws and remained as enthusiastic to continue as at the beginning was Lyra's dog, sniffing with childlike curiosity everything around him, only returning to our side from time to time to confirm if it wasn't time to leave yet, giving small licks to Lyra's face who barely had enough energy to repel.

We'd been at it for about an hour and a half, maybe two, and there was still no sign of Nerion or the other missing crew. The only consolation I had was that, judging by Lyra's stamina, they hadn't been able to travel much further either. In the distance, I could still make out silhouettes that were vaguely familiar to the area where the ship was supposed to be. I wasn't sure if I could tell from this distance whether the ship had taken off, but it didn't seem to be the case. Apparently, the crew was still keeping their word and waiting for our return, or perhaps they simply hadn't mustered the courage to leave us behind. Either way, we still had time.

"What if...  What if we consider the matter closed?" With a slightly cooler head, that was the first clear idea Lyra had.

"Lyra..."

"I know what you're going to say, but I assure you I'm not saying this because of Nerion. Well, he's partly the reason, but I promise you he's not the main reason." Lyra stretched and retracted her hind claws, feeling the damp grass offer refreshing relief to her swollen and injured paws. "It's just that we're already quite far out. Not even a Venlil should be able to get much further than this. I work hard every day and I can't do any more. Besides, I know you and Ozzy aren't like this, but predators are supposed to be lurking around here, wild predators. Don't you think it's possible that... You know, they might have been..." I didn't quite understand Lyra's gesture, but I don't like where this is going...

"Why is it that if things don't go as you expect, the first thing you think is that something has eaten them?"

"Hey! Until recently, if you lost contact with someone, the possibility of them being devoured by the Greys was quite plausible. You can't blame us for still thinking that way." It se ems the only thing Lyra never runs out of is her capacity for grumbling and shouting, although... I think she has a point.

"Well, you'll be glad to know there are no predators here, at least nothing large. At most foxes and maybe coyotes? I don't know, but I've never heard of an animal bigger than a dog roaming these parts."

...

"A dog..." Lyra looked at me not with fear, but rather with irritation at the comparison.

"Do you have any idea of the odds with something like that? It's not just the size; behavior can vary drastically from breed to breed.

…

“From those that can be incredibly aggressive toward their prey to those that hunt in packs, enter burrows, track for miles, and I could go on... A Dossur or a Sibkit could be devoured in an instant by creatures that size... Even an average-sized human wouldn't stand a chance against something like that..." Lyra stood up irritably, brushed some of the water soaking the wool on her head and seemed ready to continue. "If that really is the case. There's no time to waste." The claws on her hind feet extended and dug into the wet grass, ready to cover a few more miles before collapsing again. She didn't seem to intend to put her boots back on... or even pick them up. They weren't exactly designed for long distances anyway, but they weren't hers... I think whoever lent us the outfits will have to get us a new pair when we get back...

"Let's go." She said with determination.

"You seem to know a lot about the subject..." With this brief respite, I too was ready to continue.

"Over time, questions arise and lead you down paths you never even knew existed." Lyra just shrugged. With a whistle she called her dog back to her side. "My internet feed is now full of stuff about dogs and human stuff that I can't help but watch. You guys are damn good at creating bait that's impossible to ignore. I have tickets for a movie about a monster called Godzilla just because I accidentally saw the trailer and left me full of questions, can you believe it?!"

"Now you understand why I don't allow all of you to use devices during work hours?" I said, feeling in a better mood. Most species seemed especially susceptible to clickbait and other internet lures.

"But you always ignore that rule."

"Lyra..." Seriously, will I ever be able to have a conversation with this Venlil without us ending up arguing after 5 minutes? "I have work to do, I need to answer calls, send information and a lot of other important things."

"Really? Because the other day I saw you talking with your wife for almost an hour and it didn't exactly sound like work..."

"That's none of your business, besides, why are you listening to my private conversations?"

"Don't change the subject, it's not the first time you do something like that. Sometimes you just wander around doing absolutely nothing."

"So you want to reproach me for things? Well, what about the time..."

+++++

"...And in the end I told her: if that wasn't your intention, you shouldn't have cut your wool like that, you're sending confusing signals to others."

"... Sure..."

I don't know how much longer we had walked, but we hadn't stopped since the last time. Once Lyra started talking, nothing could stop her and everything else ceased to matter.

The journey had become pleasant, I suppose. Well, I don't think that's the word I'd use, but for lack of a better term, I'll say it was pleasant. Time became abstract, the tiredness lessened, and the purpose of all this almost ceased to matter. All that was on my mind was what Lyra ate three days ago, her opinions on the new season of a show I haven't even seen, an argument she had with her human companion a few days ago in which she obviously insisted she was right, what her mother thinks about Earth... The information kept piling up. Truly, the only thing that never runs dry in Lyra is her stream of words. Every word from me opened a new topic of conversation and every little thing that caught her attention seemed to revive a memory of some insignificant situation that she felt I should know about.

I didn't even bother listening anymore; my brain had been on autopilot for a while. Part of me was focused solely on not losing the path; the other part merely grasped the bare minimum, managing to find the right moment to nod or offer a brief, polite reply. It wasn't that I wanted to be rude or impolite on purpose, but I couldn't take it anymore; I was afraid my translator implant would overheat and melt my brain from prolonged use. At this rate, I'll learn to speak Venlil before I even find Nerion.

...

Nerion...

...

Shit! I'd completely forgotten about that guy.

After leaving the ship and walking through dense undergrowth and over slippery rocks, the path became relatively easy. In these conditions, climbing had become virtually impossible; the only and most reasonable option was to follow the natural trail formed between the mountains; a significantly longer route, but the safest by far. A trail created by the erosion of the water flowing down from the large, rocky and rugged mountains, forming small waterways that continued their ancient work of terraforming the ground. A place that, under other circumstances, could be used for hiking or cycling.

I wanted to believe Nerion thought the same and followed this route; small clues like flattened grass, trash and equipment left behind that had no other explanation for being there, what looked like an attempt to build a campfire and a hunch were all that guided me. It seemed so obvious when I left the ship, but at this point, doubt was starting to creep in. It was still raining, but judging by the faint light filtering through the cloudy sky, midday was approaching. We still hadn't found anyone.

Perhaps we were following a trail left by one of the ones who had already reached the ship, perhaps it was someone else's trail or perhaps… it wasn't a trail at all. The truth is, I'd never done this before. Xenos just assumed that all humans knew how to hunt or track. I never bothered to clarify this, mainly because it would have been too tedious. The closest thing to it was once when I went fishing; I discovered I hate fishing...

Sigh... Now I was in the middle of nowhere. Beside me was a Venlil who had absolute confidence in what she was doing and back on the ship, everyone considered my words irrefutable truth. I could continue pretending I knew where I was going for a while longer, I could backtrack to the last trace and reassess the route, or... I could consider the matter closed. There are rescue teams who really know what they're doing. I think the most responsible thing to do is acknowledge my limitations and leave this to someone more competent. Everyone told me it was a bad idea, but that damned expression on Nerion's face...

"Boss..."

I underestimated the warnings of others just because they weren't humans...

"Boss..."

When am I going to learn?

"BOSS!"

Lyra gave me a much-needed jolt from my thoughts; I only wish that every time she does it, my eardrums don't feel like they're about to burst.

"W-What is that?" she asked, her ears moving in every direction and her tail twitching with anxiety. "It's not… a predator, is it?"

...

At other times I would have dismissed her reaction as the typical unfounded paranoia of her species and perhaps even lectured her for that, however, her dog also seemed to perceive something that even made bristle its fur and take a step back.

"Lyra, what are you talk..." I couldn't even finish my question before I heard it too... And I felt it...

First, a great crash, followed by the sound of dozens of trees creaking; not just their branches, but as if dozens of tree trunks had split like simple sticks in an instant. The ground shook, and it wasn't until a second later that I understood what was happening.

"B-Boss..."

"Go back, Lyra!"

The sound didn't seem like a direct threat to us, it didn't even sound close, but with a landslide you never know...

Through the treetops, I could see how the surface of one of the slopes simply disappeared in the blink of an eye. The clatter was amplified tenfold as it echoed off the rocky mountain walls, and the sight of dozens of birds fleeing the catastrophe seemed to tear through the gray sky, screeching in pure terror as they left their homes behind and then... absolute silence...

At our feet, the water that trickled downhill became murky and full of sediment, foreshadowing what awaited us further on.

"Well, that doesn't sound like a predator..." Lyra said with a nervous laugh. "It wasn't, right?" I know Lyra was hoping to find reassurance in my often sarcastic answers, but this time I was worried too.

"Boss? Wait, where are you going?!"

Without thinking twice and ignoring little Venlil's worries, I quickened my pace towards the source of the sound. I didn't know exactly what I was waiting for, but each possibility only generated more anxiety than the last.

"Boss, wait! Don't leave me behind."

I could hear the anguish in Venlil's voice behind me, but it paled in comparison to mine.

"Boss!"

With no more time to lose, I ran through the undergrowth, climbed among the rocks, and how I feared... there was no more path...

"Boss..." Lyra managed to catch up to me, gasping for air, her face turning orange again. "Don't you dare leave me behind like this, what if... Oh…” She shared the same expression as me, seeing the enormous obstacle that rose above us.

“So, this is what caused the sound..."

Before us, a great wall of mud, trees, undergrowth and debris blocked our path. Difficult to flank, unthinkable to cross and ultimately, impossible to remove. There was no clearer way to say, your path ends here.

…

…

…

"...So... Now what?" Lyra stared at me, hoping to find the answers in this foolish old man who actually believed that everything would end fine like it used to happen. And for what? To get my farm and the exchange program back? To prove Nerion was wrong? To maintain the image I have of myself?

I put the lives of myself, Lyra and everyone else on the ship at risk, because in my head they're always wrong and only humans are right. How many times did I tell myself that I started to believe it?

"Boss… Do you want us to escalate that or..."

"We're leaving..." My only consolation is that I think I still can retreat in time. If I hadn't let Lyra rest and slowed down the pace, we probably would have been trapped on the other side of this or worse, under it.

At least I tried...

"You're joking, right?" Lyra seemed surprised and somewhat annoyed, for some reason.

"Yep... We're done, let's go home."

"But what happened to all that talk about leaving no one behind and..."

"LYRA..." I couldn't take it anymore. I'd stuck it out because I thought I knew the outcome, but the truth is, I was exhausted. "Sigh... I don't know what I'm doing, okay? I've been walking without any idea which way to go."

For the first time, I saw Lyra's expression wither, ears droop and her gaze dimmed.

"So, why did you keep walking?"

"I don't know. They always look at me as if I have the answers and I… I thought I had. When Nerion confronted me, I felt it as a personal challenge, I felt like I had to prove he was wrong. Then I stood up to them all and said I would bring Nerion and the others back, how am I supposed to return with nothing?"

...

"At some point, I just... kept going uphill, hoping to find them. 'They're just a bunch of Venlils,' I kept telling myself. They'll probably get tired soon, they can't go very far. or They're clumsy, so this path is the only way they can go. They get scared by everything, so I'll probably find them all huddled under a tree or something. I don't know. Deep down, I can't help but underestimate them... I've survived worse, how hard can it be? I always tell myself, but in the end, I've just been lucky... Lucky to have people like Maaro, like Kajim, even like Zep... I guess it's time to accept my own incompetence..."

… 

I couldn't even begin to understand what was going through Lyra's mind at that moment. She just stood there, staring at me like I was a stranger.

"I'm sorry, Lyra. I always tried to force you to understand each other, but I never did enough to understand you... to truly understand you and show you the respect you deserve."

...

Lyra said nothing, her gaze fell and she approached with weary steps. I thought she would take out her frustration on me somehow, but all she did was snatch her backpack from me with a hostility she didn't bother to hide.

"What are you doing?" I said as I watched her rummage through the deepest of her backpack, throwing away everything that was no longer needed.

"Unlike all other humans, you never showed us pity, consideration, patience or any special treatment; at least no more than you would show to any other human...which isn't much either by the way." She began to despair at not finding what she was looking for. "You've pushed us to our limits time and time again, to the point that when I can't go on anymore, I ask myself, 'Is that really it?' You came all this way because you believe you can find Nerion, and I followed you because I believe you can too. Now you tell me you're giving up?"

Okay, I see what she is doing. The worst part is that I don't think I really have the right to be angry...

"I've run out of ideas, what else do you want me to say?"

Lyra ended up emptying the entire contents of her backpack onto the ground. Many things were single-use supplies, and the rest were things that didn't even belong to her; I suppose that's why she didn't care if she returned them covered in mud or simply didn't return them at all. She searched through the pile of useless things and proudly pulled out what, in my opinion, was the most useless thing she'd brought: a brush full of ash-colored wool bristles. "Perhaps you don't have any other ideas, but there's a reason why I thought it would be a good idea to bring Ozzy to this hunt."

With a whistle, Lyra called to her four-legged friend, who was also happily rummaging through the things scattered on the ground. You never know when you might find something edible in the most unexpected place. Its ears perked up in recognition of the command, but in the end, it decided that it could wait.

"OZZY, COME HERE!" Lyra insisted again with a ferocity rarely seen in a Venlil, well, in a Venlil other than Lyra...

The poor dog ran to her side and stared at its mistress, waiting for the next command so as not to anger her further.

"Hmph..." Lyra looked at me with such pride that her "smile" barely fit on her long face. I don't know exactly what she expected me to see; after all, I was the one who taught her the basics of dog training.

"Lyra, I'm not in the mood for..."

"Shut up..." With a claw, she had the audacity to silence me while she concentrated on... Whatever it was she was doing.

[Find] Lyra made a sharp whistle that seemed to have some meaning for her dog, judging by how its ears perked up and its muzzle tilted toward the brush in Lyra's hands. I didn't recognize the command, so I suppose it's something she made up herself; a trick to forget the unpleasant moment?

...

...

...

Nothing happened, the dog sniffed the brush a little, sniffed the air a bit and went back to his business.

"What?! B-But..." Her tail drooped to the ground as if it had lost its life, a reflection of her own esteem...

...

I don't know if I should intervene in any way, I don't even know what she was trying to do.

"Come on, you've done it before." Lyra knelt on the ground and squeezed her fellow predator's face tightly between her paws, as if that would somehow make the understanding between their species clearer. "Just… try it one more time, okay?" She extended the object to the dog´s face again and, with the same whistle, gave the same command. "Please..."

...

The dog just stood there, watching her without even making the slightest effort to try to fulfill Lyra´s request.

"Oh, of course!" Lyra rummaged through her uniform, patting down all the pockets several times, seemingly forgetting where she'd put what she was looking for. 

…

"I know it's not much, but it's all I have left..." From a package I immediately recognized as a popular… and cheap brand of dog treats, she pulled out basically just crumbs. She piled them pathetically in the palm of her hand and held them out to the dog in a last-ditch effort to appease his demands.

"Please..."

I don't know if it's because I've learned to read the body language of ears, tails and whiskers, but I could almost see a doll of deep indignation on the dog's face. Lyra had clearly taught it to put a price on every trick it does and it was clear that it wasn't willing to do it for less, but... For its mistress, perhaps could make an exception...

Ozzy the dog accepted the miserable offering and devoured it in one lick; it was clear that it was not enough. This will probably be the only time it makes an exception and starts to sniff the air and the ground again.

"Yes! Just like that ." From the deep abyss where all her confidence had fallen, it once again soared to the clouds. "Sniff everything, don't leave a single inch unexamined and find that bastard!" She encouraged her dog as best she could. It seemed to be working, as both their tails wagged almost in sync.

I think I understand now... The dog pressed his nose to the ground, circled around us a couple of times, sniffed the brush one more time, did one last lap just to be sure; he even sniffed me, but in the end, nothing...

Ozzy turned back to Lyra and sat down as if to say, "That's it."

"Oh..." Lyra finally gave up. It was obvious her attempt to track Nerion wasn't going to work; between the rain and the wind, any trace vanished in a second. Sigh... But what right do I have to judge her? The truth is, we both made the same mistake. We have no idea what we're doing...

"It was a good attempt (I guess)." God, I'm bad at comforting people. "But there's nothing more we can do..."

"No!" Lyra looked at me, her face turning orange, her voice trembling. "This works, I know it does. If only I had more... I could prove it to you."

...

I don't know why she cared so much about proving me wrong... This was a situation that went beyond whether one is human or Venlil, but... If she says she can... I guess we still have a little time.

"Okay... I believe you." From among my belongings, I pulled out a couple of packages of rations labeled as "only for humans." They were at the back of a drawer in the ship, so I doubt anyone would have wanted them, although at this point I wasn't in the mood to eat anything, so I didn't mind giving them to the dog. “Try it with these.”

…

"What is this?" Lyra looked suspiciously at the package, mainly because of how plain it was.

"I'm not sure, maybe dried meat or something."

They were probably rations left over from a previous trip or something that came in a complete supply package and was just left lying around. To be fair, I wouldn't trust something like that under normal circumstances either, but we weren't in the mood to be picky at this point.

...

Lyra tore open the wrapper and stood silently examining the content. A hard, dry, brown paste that looked hardly appetizing.

"Is there a problem?" Shit, I completely forgot...

"Was this on the ship?" Her words were barely a whisper.

"Well, yes, but it was only a couple of bars and they're perfectly labeled to prevent anyone from accidentally..."

"This is just what I needed!" She exclaimed, waving the stick in front of her dog's face, who seemed to recognize the scent immediately.

...

"So, is this a good thing?" Definitely not the reaction I was expecting.

"As long as I have the means to pay, Ozzy will do whatever I..." Within the chaotic brainstorm that is Lyra's mind, another idea clicked.

"You had this all along and still let me humiliate myself by begging Ozzy for help?"

"First of all, I had no idea you needed something like this." I swear I never know what to expect from this Venlil... "And secondly, a good trainer shouldn't reward their dog for every command obeyed; it conditions good behavior and you'll end up making them obese."

"... You may have a point, but if you saw me suffering from lack of treats, it wouldn't have been so hard to tell me you had this." Lyra took the bar with her paws as if it were nothing, tore off a piece to inspect it a little more before offering it to her dog who immediately fixed his gaze on his next meal.

"And just so you know, I'm a great trainer, it's just that this trick is new and I'm still perfecting it."

"Sure..." I wasn't in the mood to argue. "Just... just do what you have to do..."

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Author’s Note: First, I would like to apologize for how long it has taken me to get this chapter out. On top of it being a really hectic past few months, writers block has been beating the speh out of me lately. With that said, I would also like to note that from here on out, there will be absolutely zero schedule for this story. Since I’m planning to put my OC HFY story into full-gear in a few months, I will only be writing for this story whenever I feel like it.

If you’re curious, the story itself is a sci-fi fantasy story, and I’m co-writing it with my best friend u/Davidgames2346. The general idea is that arcane magic is a finite resource, and it coalesces around certain stars, at which is guaranteed a sapient species will arise. However, every species always ends up draining their home system of its magic, causing a catastrophic civilization collapse. There is only one exception to this, and in classic HFY fashion, it is Humanity. And the reason why they were spared this fate is rather funny: they created gods before they made widespread use of magic!

The story is called A Humanitarian Crusade. Feel free to go check it out on Royal Road if you want :3

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Chapter 5: The Nature of the Universe

Cover Art

>“There exists no greater universal constant for all peoples than knowledge. All cultures, all civilizations, and all people learn, share, and record it. Knowledge is what links all beings together within the grand tapestry of the universe.” 

— Jakkalis the Traveler, Introduction to the Silver Archive

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Memory Transcription Subject: Dr. Erin Kuemper; Secretary Alien Affairs, acting liaison to Jakkalis the Traveler, and former S.E.T.I. Researcher.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: January 2nd, 2136.

I step off the ramp of the UN shuttle, the shuttle’s thrusters blowing frozen dirt and such around. The pawsteps of Silvet, the ex-military Venlil farmer whose farm the shuttle has landed on, crunch the frozen soil of the deep twilight as he approaches me. His tail sways behind him as he approaches, twitching anxiously.

“H-hello, Human,” he gives a half-hearted greeting with his tail. 

“Silvet, right?” he flicks his ear in confirmation, then opens his mouth to verbally confirm, probably thinking I wouldn’t understand the gesture, but I interrupt him with a toothless smile as I continue my greetings. “Kam has spoken quite highly of you.”

Kam actually personally recommended that I not wear a visor, much to everyone’s surprise. He said that Silvet had seen enough Arxur to render any other Venlil catatonic. So, as he explained, the visor would probably only put him on edge, since he couldn’t see where I was looking.

“Nice to meet you,” I hold my hand out for a handshake, then quickly realize he has no idea what it means. 

“Oh, you probably wouldn’t know what that gesture is,” I gave a quick demonstration. “It's called a handshake.”

“I’m Doctor Erin Kuemper,” I say after the somewhat awkward handshake. “But you can just call me Erin.”

Our greetings are interrupted when all of a sudden, the Venlil doubles over onto the frozen grass, clutching his head in his paws. 

“Oh my god, are you okay!?” I frantically look back at the shuttle, about to radio them to get the medpack.

“N-no…” he says in a strained voice. “I…I-I’m alri-ght.”

After a few moments, he stumbles to his feet, regaining his composure.

“It's f-fine,” he says, the strain in his voice subsiding. “The pre…the dragon…it’s doing that th-thing again. He's…in my head a-again.” 

Oh shit…that looks kinda painful, damn. Wait, why isn’t he…

“Can…can you ask him to do that to me instead…?” 

Instead of a response, I am met with a tickling feeling in the back of my head, and Silvet suddenly stops looking like he is fighting the world's worst migraine. He seems to visibly deflate in relief.

{Hello, you are Doctor Kuemper, yes?} a voice not my own drifts in through the back of my head. 

I brace myself for a wave of pain to wash over my head, but instead, I get nothing. Aside from the strange tickling at the back of my head, I felt nothing. I look to the Venlil in bewilderment for a moment, but I quickly remember that there is still a visitor inside my head.

{Yes. Yes, I am Doctor Kuemper.} 

{I take it that you’ve arrived at the farm, yes?} the voice in my head asks.

{I have, yes.} 

{Good, good.} 

I was about to ask about why the Venlil was in pain when he spoke in his head, but I wasn’t; I was interrupted by a swirling sound from behind me. I turn around to find the source of the noise and see…

‘I-is that...’ I stare in awe. ‘A portal...?’

It continues to form for a few more moments until the shape has become a solid purple outline of a perfect, two-story-tall oval. Once the outline is fully completed, the center suddenly explodes with color.

Replacing the frost-covered forest landscape of the twilight is a glacial landscape. On the ground, frost-covered grass is replaced with thick, dense ice. In the background, windswept trees reminiscent of earth pines are replaced with a rocky cliff face next to a gargantuan icefall. In the sky, the dark sky, lit only by the tiny amount of light from the twilight, is replaced with a sea of stars.

After spending probably too much time gawking at it, I step through the portal and into the icy landscape. The moment I step through, however, the cold hits me like a freight train. I can almost feel my body shut down in shock at how utterly frigid it is. I looked up, and in front of me stood a massive figure.

To me, my brain was already going into shock from the rapid change in temperature; the figure was the size of a mountain. Gargantuan wings that enveloped half my world, with piercing purple eyes that saw through my very soul.

As my brain began to shut down, I could make out the figure moving before I saw a flash of purple, and suddenly everything was clearer. I felt warmer, and I could see and think more clearly. I could see the dragon that I thought was the size of mountains, but was actually only a few times my height. I could see concern in the dragon’s eyes as he looked at me with worry.

“Whew, that was a close one,” he said, exhaling a cold breath onto me that made me shiver involuntarily. “I’m glad I could get that spell up quick enough, else I’d probably have to have set something on fire…which I’d rather not do here.” 

“I…I’m alright now,” I said.

I remembered why I was here, and a rush of adrenaline at the thought of delving into the unknown once again had me almost spontaneously recover from near death three seconds ago.

“Nice to meet you, Jakkalis,” I greeted.

“Well met, Doctor Erin Kuemper,” he replied. “I am Jakkalis the Traveler; Grandmaster of the Silver Archive, Grand Historian of the Sword Coast, Seeker of Echoes, and The Silver Wordsmith!”

“That you are,” I said. “Well, I’m ready to talk about everything. How about you?”

“Well, aren’t you eager?” the dragon said, chuckling. “We’re quite the kindred spirits, you and I. Aren’t we?”

“I suppose so, yeah,” I chuckled back.

“Well then,” the dragon began. “Before I bring you into the facility, I believe we should address our previous lines of discussion.”

“That sounds reasonable,” I said. “Would you like to begin, or should I?”

“I have some questions that I must ask to discuss with you properly,” the dragon began. “For you see, I have traveled to many worlds across the vast Material Plane, and each world may view one such as I from different perspectives. So, in order to establish from what perspective you shall engage me from, I must ask a set of four questions I have refined over the years.”

That’s a lot to take in, though I should just roll with it, suspend my disbelief, and all, I think. I am talking to a literal dragon, after all. 

“Uhh, sure...?” I say. “Ask away, I guess.”

“Ibahaliitik!⁽¹⁾” the dragon growls out unintelligibly, flashing a set of razor-sharp teeth the size of swords at me. The foreign word fell flat on my translator implant, clearly unable to parse a completely unknown language. 

“Now, my first question should be simple: what is the prevalence of magic within your world?” he continued. “For example, does your society use magic in its technology?”

“Can you elaborate on what you mean by ‘magic’, please?” I asked.

“Magic? You know, drawing on the Weave to cast spells?” the dragon said in confusion. “You know what, here’s an example.”

The dragon’s eyes briefly flashed a brighter purple before a large chunk of ice formed in front of him rapidly, and it rocketed away from him at incredible speeds, crashing into a nearby cliff with an explosion of ice.

“That was Ice Knife,” Jakkalis says.

His eyes light up once again, but this time, instead of launching ice at a cliff, he conjures a number of small blue orbs of light that dance around him in a mesmerizing fashion for a bit before disappearing.

“And that was Dancing Lights,” he says. “Both are relatively simple spells. Is that sufficient elaboration?”

“I…Yes, it is, and my answer to your question is none,” I say. “Magic…magic has been relegated to the realm of myth for our entire history. So no, we use no magic in our technology.”

“Fascinating...truly fascinating,” the dragon rumbles. “Your insight is extremely helpful, thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome...I guess...?” I say awkwardly. “I- uhh...honestly? I am gaining insight into your world from the questions, as well.”

“Well then...shall we move on to the next question?” Jakkalis asks.

I nod, eager to learn more about the fantastical world of a creature once relegated to fantastical tales.

“You certainly are eager...well, in any case, my next question should be as simple as the last,” The dragon begins. “Are you aware of anyone having visited your world from another within the confines of the Material Plane?”

‘Hmmm...well, from what I understand of this ‘material Plane’ that he explained to Charles and Jikri, it is a sort of...multiverse...?’ I muse. ‘Yes, that seems right.’

“Well...from your explanation of this ‘Material Plane’, I believe the answer is no,” I say. “In fact, only a little less than half a year ago, Humanity hadn't met a single other sapient species.”

“I see...” the dragon rumbled in thought. “Well, that leads nicely into my final question: what do you know of the material plane, as well as the other planes?”

“Wait...other planes?” I asked, confused. “So far, you have only mentioned the Material Plane.”

“So you truly do not know of any other planes?” the dragon rumbled. “Not even the Seven Heavens of Mount Celestia or the Nine Hells?”

‘Hold on a minute, the Nine WHAT now!?’

“I- uhh...the Nine Hells...?” I said, worriedly.

“Hrmh,” the dragon huffed incredulously. “I suppose you truly do not know. Well...this is why I am asking these questions, after all.”

“I- uh...then could you tell me please explain it...?”

“Hrmm...where to start...” the dragon mumbled in thought. “Well...this will be a rather complicated talk, and I suspect this conversation may take some time, so allow me to provide a more comfortable environment for us to continue in.”

I nodded, sensing that I was a little in over my head.

‘Though, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely enjoying getting to explore and learn about the unknown again.’

I watch as the dragon’s eyes once again glow purple, and purple energy swirls around him. However, this time, the purple energy coalesces in an oval shape that...

‘I-is that...’ I stare in awe. ‘A portal...?’

It continues to form for a few more moments until the shape has become a solid purple outline of a perfect, two-story-tall oval. Once the outline is fully completed, the center suddenly explodes with color.

Replacing the dark, icy landscape of Venlil Prime’s Night Side is an enormous expanse of smooth stone. Fluffy clouds surround the area, giving it a heavenly feeling. Enormous broken pillars ring the area, piercing through the clouds.

The dragon steps through the portal, and I follow him through, continuing to stare slack-jawed at the sight that seems straight out of a Greek painting of Mount Olympus.

“I have transported us to my primary lair,” Jakkalis says, noticing my expression.

The sound of the dragon’s rumbling voice snaps me out of my reverence, and I turn to him, prompting him to go on.

“This part of my lair is the Open Court…” he says, trailing off as he accentuates his statement with a sweeping, theatrical gesture with his wings. The theatrics are taken to the next level, as the gesture causes the clouds surrounding the court to clear away, revealing a breathtaking view of the surrounding region.

“…Where I like to host visitors in grand style,” he finishes the statement.

I just stare at the sight, slack-jawed for seconds, until the dragon causes the clouds to return with a simply wing gesture, pulling me from my stupor.

“Ah-hem,” the dragon clears his throat. “I apologize if I went a bit too far with the theatrics, Dr. Kuemper.”

It takes me a few moments to regain my composure, but I eventually do. “N-no. No, it’s perfectly fine.”

“Good, good,” Jakkalis says with a nod. “Well, with that out of the way, are you ready to begin, Doctor?”

I smile eagerly at the big dragon. “Ready as I have ever been!”

“Zi edrok!⁽²⁾ Let us start with the Material Plane,” Jakkalis says. “Hmm…Well, since you mentioned it earlier, I assume you have seen my reading of Elegy For The First World, yes?”

“I have, yes,” I reply. “It was quite...interesting.”

“Very good. Then, as you know, all the worlds of the Material Plane are tiny fragments of the First World; ‘Scattered into infinite seedling realities,’ as the story states.”

“Wait, if I may interject...how exactly can you confirm this story is not just a fantastical tale?” I say, before cringing as the dragon’s expression turns dark.

I scramble to try to backpedal, not wanting to anger him. “I meant no offense, Jakkalis, sir! It is just that...well, I am a woman of science. I would be remiss to simply believe a claim such as yours without being able to verify it.”

The dragon dips its head in understanding, and I internally sigh in relief. ‘I really would rather not piss the massive, magic-wielding, extradimensional flying reptile...’

“I understand your perspective, I suppose, without any prior knowledge...the story does seem rather fantastical,” the dragon says. “Well, the reason why I put so much confidence is that, unlike all other mythological scripts, Elegy for the First World can be verified...at least in part.”

‘I certainly was not expecting that...’

“You see, we dragons...we are living proof of the story’s truth,” the dragon begins. “By our nature, we are beings of magic. Our hoards are where we store our power, and our lairs can change the very land around us. But it goes beyond that...for every dragon is linked to an echo on each world of the Material Plane. These echoes, they can differ much; from a slightly different eye color or mannerism, to being the complete opposite of the other in every way possible.”

“That...that...I guess that would be pretty solid evidence to prove the story's truth...” I murmur out loud as I consider the implications of this revelation. “...though for much of it, it would simply just give more credence to the story, rather than prove it...”

“Yes, that is the sole reason it has yet to be incorporated into every single mythology,” the dragon states. “For if you could definitively prove one single creation myth, all others would swifty become irrelevant.”

‘I imagine it would...which makes me wonder how this might affect Human religions.’

“But...can you, yourself, prove that...here?” I said. “Because if you can give me irrefutable proof, such as demonstrating your claim, then...it would change things. Many things.”

“Hahaha!” the dragon harumphed. “Why, to ask a greatwyrm if he can prove the existence of echoes...ohhhh, Human! You have no idea how ironic that is...to ask me if I can prove echoes! Haha!”

“I...what...? W-why is that ironic?” I stammer in confusion, worried I’d made a fool out of myself. “W-what is a greatwyrm...? A-and why d-does that...affect the question?”

The dragon’s laughter slowly dies down, and he composes himself to answer me.

“Well…I am the proof, and that is no metaphor,” the dragon states, only adding to my confusion. “A greatwyrm is a dragon who has transcended...by uniting with their echoes.”

‘OH- OH THAT IS IRONIC...’

“Oh...” is all I manage to get out in response, as it dawned on me.

“Yes, so you see now? Why is the question you asked so ironic to me?”

“Y-yes, I can see it now,” I respond. “S-so...I suppose you can’t prove it to me, can you? After all... you’ve ‘united’ with your echoes.”

“On the contrary...” the dragon chuckles, a knowing smirk on his silver-plated face. “I am close to my younger siblings, and they are not greatwyrms.”

“Which means you can show me one of their echoes?” I guess excitedly.

“Indeed!” the dragon says, beaming. “It may take some time for my brother on this World to get here, so would you like me to bring you to one of his echoes right now?”

“Would I ever!”

He nods emphatically before turning away. His eyes once again begin to glow purple, and purple energy swirls around him. Just as before, purple energy coalesces into a two-story-tall portal. But this time, the view was replaced by a lush, beautiful landscape that could only be described as straight out of a fantasy movie.

My attention is grabbed by movement through the portal. I see as gleaming silver wings crest over a hill, flying toward the portal. I examine the figure as it (they?) soars through the sky, approaching closer and closer.

It is another dragon, a silver one just like Jakkalis. In fact, the two share quite the resemblace. The main difference is that where Jakkalis is slender but powerfully built, this new dragon is much stockier. They also lack Jakkalis’ signature scar across the right side of his face, and hold none of the golden accessories that he did either. They had very similar eye colors, scale colors, and even facial structures.

All in all, they very much looked the part of siblings. Though Jakkalis is clearly the older sibling.

As I was examining the new silver dragon, they had gotten close enough to begin their descent for a landing. The portal dragon soars downward, before landing, much less gracefully than Jakkalis had done so far, in front of the portal. Their landing kicked up dirt, their talons digging into rock.

After the less-than-graceful landing, the new dragon gave a faux flap of their wings, presumably stretching them out, before walking up to the portal. They stopped about a (dragon) neck’s length from it, then flashed a warm smile.

“Greetings, brother,” the new dragon said in a much deeper voice than Jakkalis’ (which I didn’t think was possible). “It is a pleasure to see you once again. What brings you here today?”

“Greetings to you too, Kellavas,” Jakkalis says to his stockier brother. “And the reason for my visit is somewhat...peculiar.”

“Oh?” his brother prompts.

“Well…you see, I am currently visiting yet another new world, and I needed to prove the existence of Echoes to this one,” he looks pointedly down at me.

“Ooh! I hadn’t noticed you, little one!” he says cheerfully. “I am Jakkalis the Defender! Who are you?”

“I am Doctor Erin Kuemper,” I introduce myself. “I am the United Nations’ liaison to Jakkalis.”

I tip my head toward the massive dragon next to me as I finish, garnering a nod of understanding from the portal dragon. Before they could respond, however, Jakkalis spoke up.

“Apologies, but I must cut your introductions short. We have much to discuss, and I would rather not do so for three days straight.”

Kellavas looks to Jakkalis with a...strange expression on his face.

‘It looks almost...knowing,’ I think. ‘WAIT! HAS THAT HAPPENED BEFORE!?’

“It was nice seeing you, however briefly, but I truly must go now,” Jakkalis says, before I can voice my concern. “I will try to visit you again soon, dear brother.”

Kellavas flashes a warm smile, moving his wings in a motion that I can only interpret as the dragon equivlant to a wave. Jakkalis nods, and then his eyes begin glowing purple once again. We step into the portal, returning to the beautiful, cloudy Open Court of his lair.

I am surprised to see Jakkalis’ brother sitting in the middle of the court, right in front of us. I look back and see the portal and catch a glimpse of Kellavas as the portal quickly collapses into a pinprick of purple before dissipating entirely in a small burst of purple.

Now that that was over, I turned to look at Jakkalis. He was leaning down to look me eye-to-eye, something I noticed was a bit of a trend for the big dragon. He always leaned down when he was talking to someone small (at least compared to him), and if I was honest, I found the mannerism a little endearing.

“Sooo…about that thing with talking for three days straight…” I start, worry in my tone. “That, uhh...that washyperboly...right...?”

Jakkalis chuckles darkly.

“Well...I don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep sooo...” he paused for dramatic effect, flashed an ominous grin at me. “Haha, no. I’m just messing with you, do not worry.”

I audibly sigh, glad to know that something like that would not happen to me.

“Although...what I said was true, I do not eat, drink, or sleep,” the dragon said.

“Wait...what...?” I said in shock. “H-how...how does... how does that even work?”

“Well, ascending to become a greatwyrm comes with many benefits,” he explained. “One of which is no longer requiring the basic needs of mortals.”

‘Okay, I can't keep myself from asking anymore,’ I think. ‘He keeps referring to us as mortals...implying he isn't*.’*

“Excuse me for being blunt, but…I need to ask,” I start. “You keep referring to others as 'mortals', which would imply you are…not mortal. Are you immortal…? How… how old are you…?”

“Hah!” the dragon laughs. “Did no one teach you that it's impolite to ask someone’s age, little one?”

“I only jest, of course,” he says with a smile. “I understand your confusion, especially if you are not at all familiar with my kind.”

I was briefly worried I had upset him somehow, but his jovial attitude quickly slapped those worries away.

“But to answer your question, yes, I am immortal. All dragons are, by their very nature,” he says.

“All dragons…?” I ask.

“As you have already seen, there is a certain truth to Elegy For The First World’s teachings,” he begins. “As it claims, we are the children of the original creator of the world, from whom all others originate. We are inheritors, ruling the remains of creation itself.”

‘I get the feeling this will be another lengthy explanation…’

“And that is why you are immortal?” I guessed. “Because you are a part of creation?”

I had a feeling I knew the answer, but asked regardless.

“Well…that is just one example of the benefits from being inheritors,” the dragon answered.

‘As if completely ignoring reality and the laws of physics, being an invulnerable giant flying reptile, and being immortal wasn’t enough.’

“Now that I have established a foundation in understanding your world, shall I bring you into the facility?”

I noticed the dragon grimace slightly when I nodded, which added to my worries. He began walking toward the facility, and I followed behind him. Now, I don’t claim to be an expert on dragon body language, but the way he walked slowly through the ice, head low, looking to the ground…it wasn’t hard to figure it out.

‘He must have found something in there…something terrible,’ I worried.

But as we approached, my worrying was, blessedly, interrupted when I noticed something…

‘Jakkalis is far too large to fit through those gates...’

“Uhh...Jakkalis, sir?” I say, prompting the dragon to stop his trek toward the facility, turning back to look at me.

“Yes?” he asked. “Is something the matter, Dr. Kuemper?”

“It’s just that, uhh...” I stammered awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of my neck. “You don’t look like you’ll uhh...fit...? You look a bit too tall and large to fit into the facility.”

“Oh, ahaha!” the dragon boomed in laughter. It took him a few moments before his laughter had died down, and he was able to collect himself.

“I can understand your confusion, my friend,” the dragon said. “Worry not! You see, metallic dragons, such as I, are innately able to change our shapes.”

“Really?” I said, amazed. ‘Where do the reality-breaking, physics defying ablities of these dragons end!?’ I added, thankfully, only in my head.

“Indeed! See for yourself,” the dragon said.

Unlike all previous times Jakkalis had used magic, his eyes did not glow purple. In fact, this time, there was no purple energy involved.

Instead, a radiant glow seemingly shines both through and from his scales. The way this energy seemed to both originate from underneath the scales and directly from them at the same time was impossible to explain; my brain was struggling even to comprehend it.

The energy continued to grow in lumenescence until eventually all I could make out was the silhouette of Jakkalis; thankfully, before the incomprehensible sight could drive me mad.

I watched in slack-jawed awe as the quadruedal figure of Jakkalis, silhouetted in the radiant glow, quickly morphed into a bipedal one.

His posture shifts upwards, his entire form shrinks massively.

His legs only shift slightly, subtly changing shape to accommodate the new bipedal stance.

His neck grows shorter, closer to broad shoulders that form as his front legs are pulled to the side.

His posture shifts upward, his legs shifting slightly, changing shape slightly as well.

As his posture shifts upwards, his entire form shrinks massively. His massive wings and tail, shrinking to scale with the new size, seem to meld into each other and form a smooth arch atop his back. His neck grows shorter, closer to broad shoulders that form as his front legs are pulled to the side. His legs only shift slightly, subtly changing shape to accommodate the new bipedal stance. Despite his significantly reduced size, he still towered over me at nearly 9 feet tall.

While his body went through these drastic changes, I could also make out the ornate, purple banner-like drape on his chest going through a similarly drastic change. It went from a banner-like stretch of fabric, nearly as wide as I am tall, to a purple dressing that resembled a toga. It was much more flowing than what I remember of its historical counterpart, and was attached to the golden band around his neck.

“Your concerns are appreciated, but unwarranted,” the dragon said, flashing a row of razor-sharp teeth with a smile. We stared at each other in awkward silence, my brain still rebooting from what I just witnessed.

Jakkalis turns back to the facility and continues walking towards it, and I wordlessly follow. It isn’t until we are right in front of the facility that one of us speaks.

“Before we enter, there is one final matter I must address,” Jakkalis said with a grim expression.

“…And what might that matter be?” I asked.

The dragon lets out an almost…wistful? Sigh, before responding. “It has to do with what I found in the facility.”

This certainly piqued my interest. Up until this point, Jakkalis had barely mentioned the mysterious facility. When he did, his tone was grave, almost sad. The words that Jakkalis relayed through that Venlil farmer echoed in my mind…

“I must warn you against optimism, Dr. Kuemper. What I have discovered beneath the ice is not a happy tale, to be sure.”

It was both concerning and intriguing. On one hand, I cannot imagine what kind of horror would cause someone like Jakkalis to pause like that. On the other hand, a mysterious facility, buried in the frigid wasteland of Venlil Prime’s Night Side, where supposedly no one had ever gone, was the wet dream of explorers like me.

The dragon snapped me from my musings, finally speaking up after what felt like an eternity of silence.

“What I found in there…” the dragon paused, and I thought I could see him shaking. “It…it…is a grave…”

The dragon’s features suddenly morphed. He pulled his neck up, no longer leaning down to my level. His face twisted into a snarl, and I could see icy fog seeping from his mouth. He is angry…no, furious.

“Coi ui wer mlaen di vi kraskdao!⁽³⁾ A murder! Frozen in time beneath the ice! The last words of a murdered people, forever silenced to never be heard! I- I- I-” as quick as it came, the dragon’s rage fizzed out.

“I- uh…I…” A thousand words shot through my mind. And none were enough.

What felt like an eternity passed in silence. None of us dared to speak, but for completely different reasons. I just simply couldn’t form any words that felt remotely right, but Jakkalis was desperately trying to keep his composure. Trying to keep himself together. Whether it was for himself or me, I knew not. 

But after a torturous amount of time, Jakkalis was the one who broke the deafening silence. “I made an Oath.” 

“I- uh…what?” I said, blindsided by the sudden change.

“I am a silver dragon. We are known as the ‘Dragons of Truth and Justice’. We have a reputation…and I do not take it lightly,” Jakkalis continued, barely acknowledging my response.  

“Do…do you want to tell me the Oath…?” I said meekly.

This certainly got the dragon’s attention. His head suddenly snapped down to me, his eyes locking onto me.

And in those eyes, I could see sadness, mourning, and loss violently swirling around like a maelstrom with anger, hatred, and fury. He opened his maw, and in a tone that I had never heard before, and that shook me to my core, the dragon spoke.

“The tragedies of this world are countless, its horrors unending. The final acts of the last heroes of a dying people illuminate the darkest of secrets to me. I have seen the plight of a people long since murdered, in their final days. I see the ashes of a world, burned away after only shimmering, and I vow to avenge them! I vow to shine in vengeance for the world that could not shine in happiness!”

I was speechless. 

Several minutes passed with nothing but the sound of howling wind around us that was blocked by the spell Jakkalis had cast earlier. 

Jakkalis finally broke the silence, saying only two words. “The Federation.” 

“Wh-what?” I stammered in confusion. ‘I have a bad feeling about where this is going…’ 

“They did it,” the dragon said. “I will fight them.” 

‘That's all? Just ‘they did it, I will kill them’? Seriously?’ 

The sudden lack of the dragon’s typical verboseness aside, it seemed pretty obvious how I could get him to tell me more.

“Well then…I can certainly help you with that,” I said, flashing a downright predatory grin as I was brought back to all that I had lost because of the Federation. 

The dragon looked to me, his previous fury having subsided somewhat, replaced with a look of surprise. He quickly imitated my grin. 

“The I take it you have fought them before?” 

‘My home, my family, my friends were in Toronto…All of them, vaporized in an instant’ I thought. ‘We extended a hand of friendship, only for it to be slapped away with hatred and genocide.’

The dragon must’ve noticed my sudden change in demeanor, as he hissed. “Xsio aegra sotiri! Wer vile kavari!⁽⁴⁾”

The foreign words still fell flat on my translator implant, clearly unable to parse a completely unknown language. But from the tone of voice, I would guess that it was curses or insults.

After a few moments, the dragon looks at me with a grave expression. “They will answer for the crimes. By my talons, teeth, and breath, I will make sure of it.”

As we turn to enter the facility, I can hear him mutter one last thing in his unintelligible tongue. “Nomag wer filkiati di bahamut ocuir ekess wer sulta di nomeno lpuul aegra…⁽⁵⁾” 

————————————————————————————————————

Translations:

1. “Glorious!”
2. “Very good!”
3. “It is the sight of a murder!”
4. “Damn evil monsters! The vile fiends!”
5. “May the justice of Bahamut see to the end of this foul evil…”

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[ ArchiveOfOurOwn ]

[ The Silver Archive ] (Coming Soon™)

[ Cover Art ]

The life support system hummed at an almost hypnotic frequency, a constant contrast to the deep silence that wrapped around the small ship, the Pax. It wasn't an empty silence, but an absolute one, the total lack of feeling that came with being inside a warp bubble. Outside, the universe didn't exist as a concept; reality was a tunnel of pure, twisted white light flowing around the hull like a forgotten river.

Ruben broke the silence, his voice filling the cramped cabin. He leaned back in his padded seat, his brown eyes fixed not on the control panels, but on his crewmate.

"I know the technical part is impressive, the sensors buzzing, the new smell of metal and ozone from the engine," he gestured with one hand, a badly hidden smile playing on his lips, "but ignore the stats for a second. Stop and feel the moment. Out there, reality is literally being rewritten. And you're right in the middle of it. Tell me, Camila, you're a paragraph in the history books now. How does it feel to be the first woman to crew a working ship with the first FTL engine in history? No textbook answers, please."

Camila kept her eyes fixed on the console in front of her, her fingers dancing over a diagnostic screen that didn't need attention. She was a statue of efficiency, her dark hair pulled back in a bun as tight as her posture. For a long moment, the only sound was the soft click of a pressure valve.

"I don't feel much," she finally said, her voice flat and smooth, like the surface of a frozen lake. She paused, thinking, as if choosing her words was an exercise in surgical precision. "The feeling of the jump itself... was like drinking for the first time."

Ruben tilted his head, his smile growing. The answer caught him off guard. He had expected a speech about duty, scientific progress, or legacy. "Drinking? You mean... alcohol? Whiskey, vodka, something like that?"

"Something like that," Camila confirmed, still not looking away from the screen. "That sudden moment of transition. The world you know dissolves and is replaced by something completely new. There's a burning, not in the stomach, but behind the eyes. A numbness in the fingertips. A universal weirdness that tells you nothing will be exactly like it was a second ago."

"And did you like it?" Ruben pushed, genuinely curious. He leaned forward, the leather of his seat creaking under his weight. "That first cosmic shot?"

"I was indifferent," she answered, finally turning to face him. Her eyes were a stormy gray, calm but impossibly deep. "It was just a sensory input. A side effect of dimensional acceleration. Liking it or not is an emotional luxury I can't afford during a critical flight phase. The important thing is that it was bearable and the warp field stayed stable."

Ruben let out a short laugh, a warm sound that seemed to momentarily heat the cold, recycled air of the cabin. "Amazing. You have a unique way of sucking all the poetry out of a historical moment and turning it into a checklist. It's kind of ironic, don't you think? You picking me as your mission partner. The pragmatist and the loudmouth, because I definitely consider myself one."

"There's no irony at all," Camila replied, her voice leaving no room for doubt. "The choice was based on objective parameters. I don't need a poetic partner. I need an experienced one."

She paused, as if pulling up a mental file. "You were a key pilot on Mars. Specifically defending Tharsis-4 Station. You led a squad of three old interceptors and managed to take out two frigates from Earth's attack force using only the gravity of the moon Phobos as a slingshot. A half-second miscalculation and you would've been space dust."

Ruben looked away, the unexpected memory wiping the smile off his face. He rubbed the palm of his hand on the panel in front of him, wiping away invisible dust. "That was five years ago, Camila. Another life. I was younger, dumber, and had a lot less to lose."

"That was exactly what saved Mars's independence," Camila continued, her voice growing more intense. "It wasn't a final victory in the war, it was a decisive resistance. Earth's forces miscalculated. They expected a quick surrender. Your defense, and the defense of others like you, denied them that quick win. It forced Earth to negotiate, not out of goodwill, but because the cost of taking over became politically impossible without a huge victory to back it up. They didn't get their final win. They got a mess. And you were one of the anchors holding that mess together. And now..."

She paused, and the hum of the life support seemed to get louder in the silence.

"Now, five years later, here we are. A Martian and an Earther. Together, in this interstellar tin can, about to be the first people to step foot on a planet in another system. To prove that both people can live together again. Not as a colony and a capital, but as one. That is the real mission, Ruben. More important than the engine, more important than our destination, maybe. We are the proof of concept."

Ruben stared at her, a new look on his face. It wasn't his easy smile anymore, but something closer to respect and a playful fondness. "Wow. Camila. Where did that come from? Why are you so poetic all of a sudden? You, who found breaking through the fabric of space-time 'indifferent,' are giving a speech about the union of people."

He laughed, shaking his head. "I think the FTL jump scrambled your brain."

Camila held his gaze for a moment, and the corner of her mouth might have twitched into a half-smile, a ghost of an expression that vanished before it could stay. "Looks like we're here," she said simply, turning back to the main console.

As if summoned by her words, the ship's soft, synthetic AI voice filled the cabin. "Attention. Warp exit sequence started. Reentering standard space-time in ten seconds."

The pure white light flooding the cabin started to pulse. Ruben adjusted himself in his seat, his body shifting into professional mode in an instant. He pulled the five-point harness, buckling it tightly across his chest. Adrenaline, an old friend, welcomed itself back into his veins.

"Well, partner," he said, his voice firm now, without his usual joking tone. He looked at her, her profile outlined against the pulsing glow of the viewing window. "Ready for the second shot? They say reality hits a lot harder."

Camila didn't answer with words. She just nodded, a single, firm, and perfectly controlled motion. Her fingers hovered over the stabilization controls, ready for the dance. The light pulsed faster. Three seconds. Two. One.

The tunnel of light collapsed. The Pax was spit back out into the real universe. The silence of the warp was replaced by the quiet, crushing impact of existence. The stars, billions of them, exploded in the viewing window like shards of ice. And right ahead, taking up half the screen, was the planet: a deep, hypnotic blue, wrapped in veils of white clouds, hanging majestically against the endless background.

The silence of orbit was absolute. Out there, against the star-speckled darkness, hung the planet. At first glance, anyone would mistake it for Earth. Deep, bright blue oceans covered most of its surface, while green and brown continents spread out like careless brushstrokes. Big white clouds swirled over the poles, promising complex weather systems. But there was one detail that crushed any illusion of familiarity: a huge, majestic ring system, like a frozen rainbow of silver, ice, and ochre, circled the planet's equator. The bits of ice and rock caught the light of the distant star, creating a halo that looked like a cosmic jewel resting delicately on the void.

Ruben sat frozen, the air caught in his lungs. "It's beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough and full of awe. "Just perfect. Look at it, Camila. A ring. A damn ring. Like someone took Earth and put a wedding band on it."

Beside him, Camila was silent. But it wasn't her usual professional silence. For a brief second, her jaw relaxed. Her lips parted slightly. Her gray eyes, always so controlled and analytical, lost focus, as if the image was too big to be processed by her mental algorithms. It was a tiny glitch, a one-second crack in her armor of logic.

It lasted exactly one second. But Ruben saw it.

He turned to look at her, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. "So you do get impressed sometimes, huh?" he said, his tone carrying a gentle victory. "The machine has a heart, after all."

Camila blinked. The mask slipped back into place instantly. Her jaw tightened, and her eyes got their clinical shine back. "I was just observing," she said, her voice as flat as an autopsy table. "Cataloging cloud formations and possible turbulence zones for reentry. Just protocol."

Ruben threw his hands up in surrender, but the smile didn't fade. "Sure, sure. Cataloging. With your mouth open and everything. Must be a new atmospheric analysis technique. Visually swallowing the air. Don't worry, I'll pretend to believe you."

He shifted in his seat, his eyes still shining with the discovery, and spoke to the main console. "Computer, start pre-landing sequence. Atmospheric reentry path. And give me the full specs on the energy shields and gravity drive. I don't want any surprises when we start scraping the sky of this planet."

The AI's synthetic voice answered right away, filling the cabin. "Understood. Calculating the best reentry path based on current atmospheric data. Energy shield parameters: capacity at one hundred percent, frequency modulation stable, heat sinks working. Gravity drive: calibration finished, drag compensation ready, field integrity at ninety-nine point seven percent. All systems are within normal ranges for atmospheric reentry. Approved."

Ruben nodded, his fingers moving over the controls with the ease of someone who had done this dance countless times. "Good. Very good." He looked at Camila, his brown eyes shining with an energy that went beyond professionalism. "So this is it. We made it. Two people who were killing each other half a decade ago, together in this tin can. And now we have a planet to explore."

He started to turn back to the controls, but Camila's voice cut him off like a cold blade.

"Wait."

Her tone was different. It wasn't her flat cataloging voice. It was the tone she used when something was wrong. Her fingers flew across the diagnostic screen at a speed that bordered on controlled panic. "I'm getting readings."

Ruben stopped. "What is it?"

"Readings," she repeated, narrowing her eyes as the data rolled in. "These aren't just the biosignatures we expected. It's more than chlorophyll and simple ecosystems." She paused, zooming in on a spectrogram. Her voice, when she spoke, had a hint of something Ruben had never heard from her before: disbelief. "They are signs of complex life. And... a technosignature. Weak, scattered, but unmistakable. Low-frequency radio emissions. Leftover heat from industrial processes. Someone is here. Or was, very recently."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick as lead. The beauty of the ringed planet outside suddenly felt less like an invitation and more like a warning.

"Holy shit..." Ruben whispered, the words slipping out like an unholy prayer. He ran a hand through his short hair, his eyes glued to the screen now showing peaks and valleys of data that changed everything. "That changes things a bit. Actually, it changes things a lot."

He took a deep breath, pulling himself together. "But we still need to land. The mission hasn't changed. We knew this was a slim possibility. We just didn't expect it to be so... real."

Camila turned to him, and for the first time, there was something besides logic in her eyes. There was worry. "You don't understand. If there are people, if they are a civilization, our arrival could be taken the wrong way. An unknown ship, entering their atmosphere, warp tech they might have never seen. If they're hostile, we could trigger an interstellar incident before we even touch the ground. Or worse."

Ruben stared at her. He saw the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers were slightly curled, as if ready for a fight. He knew what she was. He'd known since their first day of training. Camila wasn't just an Earther. She was a clone, grown in a biogenesis tank, designed to be the perfect crewmate: loyal, capable, disposable. She knew Earth saw her as a tool. She knew many Martians would see her as an abomination. She didn't have a people. She didn't belong anywhere.

"No," he said softly, his voice dropping all jokes. "You don't need to be afraid. Look at me."

She did, her gray eyes meeting his.

"I know what you are," Ruben continued. "I know you're a clone. I know they made you in a vat, gave you implanted memories, and told you that you were just a spare part for humanity. But here, on this ship, you aren't a tool. You're my partner. And even if your DNA was made in a lab, you can trust me. I won't let you down."

Camila stood perfectly still. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, her voice came out, a barely audible whisper. "Trusting is something I've always done. I was programmed for it. To trust. To obey. To follow the human next to me."

"No," Ruben said. "That isn't obedience. That's a choice. And I don't want a meat robot by my side. I want you."

He laughed, a low, warm sound that cut the tension like a knife. "By the way, you know what else? One day, when all this is over, I want to take you out to dinner. A real dinner. Food that doesn't come from a tube. A table that doesn't have seatbelts. Maybe even candles, if you don't think that's too primitive."

Camila frowned, confusion briefly replacing her worry. "What do you mean by dinner?"

Ruben just smiled, that wide, irresistible smile that had already disarmed generals and charmed crowds back on Mars. "One day I'll show you. It'll be a new experience. Better than drinking, I promise."

Before she could answer, the AI interrupted. "Reentry path calculated. Starting landing sequence."

The ship shook gently. The gravity drive roared in silence, creating a distortion field that began to push the Pax out of orbit. Outside, the planet's silver ring began to pull away, and the blue and green curve grew, swallowing their field of view.

Reentry started as a whisper, a soft brush against the first layers of the atmosphere. The thin, cold air began to flow around the hull. Then, the friction increased. The energy shields flickered, forming a cocoon of golden and orange plasma around the ship. Friction flames licked the windows, turning the outside into an inferno of light. The cabin vibrated, a deep and steady shake. The sound was a muffled roar, like a dragon breathing on the other side of a steel wall.

Through the glowing light, the planet revealed itself. The clouds got closer, white and gray masses that swallowed the ship for a moment. Turbulence shook the Pax, but the gravity drive balanced every bump with a precise counter-force, keeping the path steady. The plasma light faded. The sky, which had been black, turned a deep blue. And then, they broke through the cloud layer.

Down below, a continent stretched all the way to the horizon. Lush green forests covered rolling hills. A silver river wound through the valley like a vein of mercury. And further north, where the hills gave way to a coastal plain, there were structures. Lines that were too straight to be natural. Metallic glints reflecting the sunlight.

Ahem, ahem...

What? Were you expecting a memory transcript in the very first paragraph? Or maybe something easily visible at the start of the chapter?

HA! No.

Greetings, fruit-heralds, faithful followers, and magically mind-controlled servants! I am your favorite god, inventor of two thousand different languages, master of every spell ever conceived, and the one who stopped the evil creator of pineapple pizza from replacing all food in existence with pineapples!

Raltan!

Now, you may be asking yourselves:

“Raltan, why did the creator—who is definitely not you—decide to restart the story from the beginning?”

Simple.

The worldbuilding was garbage.

During the creator’s little sabbatical, he spent his time consuming absurd amounts of fantasy:
The Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, Warhammer Fantasy...
(Should he start looking into Age of Sigmar? I still don't know.)

...and even RWBY, if that somehow counts as fantasy.

He also watched countless worldbuilding and writing videos before finally realizing one painful truth:

His character writing sucked.

So, with the help of a Spanish D&D YouTuber, ChatGPT, and ME personally, we tore apart the fabric of reality itself and rebuilt it into what it is today.

And so...

Our story begins thirty million years ago—

What?

“What do you mean we don’t have time for that?!”

It’s only five hundred years of reading!

I am educating these barbarians with QUALITY literature!

...Fine.

Our story begins in a sea far, far away.

Oh, what? Were you expecting me to say “kingdom far, far away”?

We have originality here.

____

Remembrance Scroll: Noah Williamson, Master Mage of the Heiliges Magiereich

Date, Calendar After the Fall: 7th of Solitas, 1401

Location: Spegnian ship, San Ezequiel of the Kingdom of Castelia, captained by Captain Don Fernando Peñales

I closed the book containing my memories as I adjusted my cobalt-colored cloak.

I filled my lungs with air before exhaling and stepping outside.

I waved at the ship’s healer before continuing my way toward the deck.

At last, I found the stairs and abandoned the darkness of the ship’s interior.

As expected from a Spegnian vessel, the sailors spoke quickly and constantly mocked one another.

“Master Mage,” said the jovial voice of Don Fernando.

“Don Fernando, it is good to see the crew in such high spirits,” I replied with my hands clasped together.

“And why wouldn’t they be? If that antique someone found in their grandmother’s basement is real, then this voyage should end today.”

By that, he meant the map.

A relic from the ancient civilization that ruled the world before everything.

The map was worn and partially rotten, but a route to another continent was still visible, one that circled around the Central Continent.

The kingdoms quickly became interested in it… mostly because searching for new lands was easier than challenging the rabbit beastmen of the Central Continent again.

“But you should not worry about any of that, illustrious one. Stay here, admire the sea, enjoy the smell of my crew’s complete lack of hygiene, and later join me in complaining about the awful food we have aboard.”

“Land ho!” shouted the lookout.

“…Oh no, we must do absolutely nothing,” he said before running toward the helm.

I stared at the horizon, toward the newly discovered landmass.

This would become a mythical year for every intelligent being in the known world.

____

Remembrance Scroll: Duchess Tarva Sulran of the Duchy of Venlil

Location: Dayside Castle, Venlil Capital

Predators.

Ever since they emerged and destroyed the first civilization, they have hunted innocent prey.

Our first tribal civilizations were barely capable of resisting them.

Then came the Kolshians.

With their magic and purity of soul, they rose from the depths and drove back the terror.

And there they founded the Empire of Prey, to unite all prey beneath a single compassionate crown.

Five hundred years of peace, prosperity, and expansion followed as we encountered other peoples.

…But the Dark Gods did not forgive us.

Primitive creatures, driven by bloodlust and possessing an intelligence worthy only of prey—

The Arxur.

They emerged from their southern jungles like a plague, wielding primitive weapons forged from volcanic stone and clad in bronze armor and the hides of their victims.

And they brought with them only death and war.

The Empire has barely managed to repel their endless hunger for blood.

Then the great evil emerged from the—

And from the eastern seas, two hundred years ago, came the Vampires.

Creatures that arrived in the dead of night and abducted innocent prey, never to be seen again.

We never discovered what became of either the Vampires or their victims.

For two hundred years, the Vampires have not returned to these lands.

And I pray to Solgalik that it remains that way.

“Duchess,” said Cheln, my Chancellor, “terrible news from the scouts.” He frantically waved a scroll enchanted with Remembrance magic.

I sighed before taking the scroll, wondering how many Arxur this time.

But when I returned to reality…

I knew we were doomed.

____

Forty Minutes Earlier

Remembrance Scroll: Slanek, Scout of the Venlil Duchy

Watching the coastline.

A task that seemed unnecessary, since nobody would willingly live near the sea.

Only ruins remained here—cities older than the great evil of the Arxur, and civilizations even older than our own.

But that was the trap.

Any one of those ruins could serve as a hiding place for Arxur raiding parties preparing to strike deeper into the Empire.

That was why it was the duty of my herdmates and I to explore the coast and prevent such attacks.

“Hey, I see something,” said one of my companions, a Krakotl.

Our equipment was simple.

Green and blue hooded robes that barely protected us from the elements, let alone the obsidian blades of even the lowliest Arxur grunts.

Our only weapons were concealment spells, a few bolts tipped with elemental fire-stones, many ordinary bolts, and our crossbows.

Our captain, a Sivkit named Mudch, carried one fitted with a lever mechanism that allowed him to reload rapidly and fire several bolts in quick succession.

What the Krakotl had spotted was a ship.

But it lacked the crude, rectangular ornaments typical of Arxur vessels.

This one looked far more refined and elegant.

At the top of its mast flew a light blue banner bearing a yellow circle with a red wavy cross at its center.

We used a visual amplification spell to observe the people around the ship…

And they were predators.

Hairless creatures dressed in strange fabrics, with vicious eyes, growling among themselves as they drove a wooden pole into the ground and tied to it a banner identical to the one on the ship.

One of the Krakotl tightened his grip on his crossbow and prepared to attack them, but Mudch stopped him.

“We still have the advantage of surprise. We must return to the ducal capital and warn Marshal Kam and the Duchess so an offensive can be assembled,” he said with the experience of someone who had done this hundreds of times—and who was deeply disliked by the Inquisition because of it.

The Krakotl let out a frustrated squawk before turning around and leaving with the rest of the herd.

____

Kingdom of Castelia: por el Santo Dragon, por el Rey y por Spegna