Fated to the Alien Chieftain (The Klendathian Cycle #3)

10. Krogoth

Chapter 10

Krogoth

Assault

I jerk upright from the ground, gasping for air. How am I still alive? I pat my body, looking for the huge wounds which were just burned into me. To my amazement, I find nothing but torn clothes and exposed skin. But they killed me? I remember the scorching agony of being swarmed and cut open by a dozen cold metal murderers.

“Good as new, Patriarch,” Dranuxia says, her voice a little strained. She rushes over to tend to another warrior who clutches a torn ankle.

I watch in wonder as her hands and eyes glow radiant blue. The gash in the warrior’s leg knits back together with impossible speed. She can heal with her hands and it’s faster than our healing pods? I examine my own hands with wonder, recalling the amazing power I used to crush the horde of drones. Some of the older tales spoke of the Gods having strange powers while on the mortal plane. It seems the stories were true after all.

This new room is much more cramped, with low ceilings and close-in walls, giving me a sense of claustrophobia. The enemy knows of our presence now. It’s crucial we forge ahead before they can send their entire force at us. Getting to my feet, my warriors shift nervously on the narrow walkway, as some nurse wounds and tend to their guns.

I stand completely unarmed, my gun long gone, smashed to a thousand pieces like so many of those machines. How can I fight if I don’t even have claws? What about these strange powers? Flexing my fingers, I look at the iris door as I project my will to close it. My eyes mist purple, drawing from the same source that Rush comes from. The metal sheets of the iris slam together loudly in an instant.

I jolt back in shock and amazement, my pulse rising in excitement. The power of my favored God Dagdorix of the Star Eyes is in my control ! If I had known sooner, we would not have lost any warriors. Clenching my fists with renewed determination, I will avenge them by facing this Machine God, the legends speak of.

“Come, we must hurry,” I command the group, not pleased with the cowardice many had shown during the attack. I would harden their resolve by sending them on a Proving Pilgrimage. But those are ideas of another time and place.

Dranuxia stands up, having healed more wounded now. She takes a long breath, brushing herself off. Marching over the narrow walkway, I glance around cautiously. My warvisor gives no sign of danger; however, the machines already proved stealthy. Dranuxia and Arawnoth march quickly to catch up, eager to walk behind me. Most likely some kind of hierarchy demands it.

“When did you learn to fight like that Patriarch?” Arawnoth asks, his tone curious.

A pang of shame blooms in my stomach, recalling my awful performance because of this weak body. “I fought poorly... I’m not feeling like myself.”

Dranuxia chimes in excitedly, “You fought like a brutal savage! I’ve seen nothing like it.”

I scratch the back of my head. They’ve seen nothing compared to real savagery. “If I had my claws.” I glance down, examining my hands. Did ancient Klendathians not possess them?

“Hah! Claws, very good Patriarch.” Arawnoth slaps his leg, his humor overly dramatic and sycophantic. He would benefit from a Proving Pilgrimage, too.

Dranuxia titters, bringing a hand to cover her already masked mouth. “Our claws are removed at birth. They’re so unsafe and uncivilized, don’t you think?” she asks, tilting her head.

A flash of anger ignites within me, that they dare mutilate the young to suit their own weak ideals. “Our proud sons and daughters, neutered like docile boracks unable to express their birthright as warriors?” I shoot back.

Dranuxia gasps, while Arawnoth scoffs, “Come now, Patriarch, we have evolved beyond such concerns. Sure, you can crush your enemies with but a thought,” he says, as his eye slits glow red and fire dances between his hands, “And I can melt mine.”

“What about her?” I nod towards Dranuxia. “And the others?” I gesture to the soldiers following closely behind.

Dranuxia bustles in, “Usually we have our disruptor cannons...” She pauses, her head cast downward. “I’d rather die than have to resort to claws, like a primitive,” her voice defiant.

I shake my head, wondering how the proud Klendathian warriors of my time ever emerged from people like these. Their powers and technology have weakened them, corrupting their spirits and their very bodies. It’s little wonder we turned away from this path to more noble ideals. “Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” I state flatly.

We march on in silence for a time; the group moves slowly, watching each pulsating tube and cavity for any hint of treachery. Before long, I’m in-front of another circular door, like the previous one. With little effort, I propel my thoughts into it, forcing it open in an instant.

My heart drops looking into the next room, if such a place could be called a room. Dozens of paths lead in various directions, some look inaccessible without crawling along the walls, others so small even Pebbles couldn’t squeeze through. Others look fairly wide and long, while others are winding and tiny, and there’s every combination between.

“Oh, my,” Dranuxia gasps, looking from behind my back.

“Never thought I’d say these words,” Arawnoth says as he glances between the different paths, “but I miss the company of Exarch Ecneius.”

Dranuxia giggles and playfully taps Arawnoth on his arm. “You’re awful.”

Awful is picking the wrong path and being vented into space. I study the different paths intensely, hoping for some clue or insight. Maybe the widest long one? That seems the most obvious choice, but the machines would expect that, and might lay a trap there. Assuming the machines expect an intruder? At least we could defend better in the open space. But then the drones transverse through small tunnels, so maybe that’s the right choice? I let out a sigh, my mind twisted in knots.

Might as well pick one at random, leave it in the hands of the Gods... A smile crosses my lips. I’m playing that part. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift, wondering if Dagdorix might possess a useful ability for this predicament. I take a deep breath and try to ignore the anxious shuffling of the other warriors as I open my awareness.

I begin to feel foolish having stood here motionless for some time, and consider stopping, when a strange thought springs to mind. That someone important to me is in danger. Their fear and nervous emotions tug at the back of my mind, filling me with a need to reach them. It’s a similar feeling to the draw I felt towards Pebbles when I was held captive in the Peaks of Scarn.

It must be Machsin. Of course, Dagdorix, and she would be bonded together. I need to save her! The powerful concern I feel for a stranger is disconcerting. I find myself hurrying towards a straight, narrow path as an odd compulsion guides me. “This way.”

We travel through the narrow pathway that quickly emerges into an immense room, the ceiling and walls so far away the warvisor has to zoom in order to see the end of them. Dotted throughout are thick columns of metal, embedded into each column are thousands upon thousands of tubes of green liquid, that bubble as if being heated. Some kind of virus bomb?

I approach one container carefully, seeing nothing within the green goo. As my warvisor scans for viruses or any biological particles, it fills me with the knowledge none are present. What in the void is this stuff?

Dranuxia leans in beside me to look at a container. “This must be where they make the nanophage.”

Arawnoth looks around the massive room. “They must intend to scour the entire universe of life.”

“It’s too terrible,” Dranuxia says, shaking her head. “We have to stop them.”

“We will. I promise,” I say, my voice filled with conviction. “Tread carefully. We don’t want to activate these containers,” I warn, as I move onward.

We walk in the center between the rows of towering columns, creating the farthest distance from us to any of the supposedly deadly nanophage tubes. I use my warvisor to scan deeper into the green liquid. At maximum optic enhancement, I can see the trillions upon trillions of nanoscopic entities dart and flicker within their green ocean, causing me to suppress a shudder.

Movement catches my attention. In the far reaches, high upon a thick column, an eight-legged drone crawls around the tubes like an insect tending to its eggs. Gun fire rings causing my fist to tighten with anger. “Ceasefire!” I demand. Instinctually, I reach out with Dagdorix’s power and yank the rifle from the trigger-happy warrior’s hands. But it’s too late. The bullets have ricocheted around the columns noisily.

The drone’s green optic segment lifts towards our direction. “We must hurry. They know we’re here now,” I say, as I pick up the pace through the labyrinthine room of containers. I watch the drone place itself upon one vessel, its pincer claw prying at one end. Is it trying to open it? I reach out, willing the machine to die. As my eyes flash purple, it implodes inward as if consumed by the gravity of a thousand giant stars.

The tiny crumpled remains clang nosily falling to the ground. “There’s more coming!” A warrior shouts, his voice full of panic. He’s right, as more drones stream out from the ceilings and walls from all over the immense room. My eyes mist purple as I crush many reaching out with but a thought for each one.

“Hold fire,” I command, fearing a missed bullet from these novices will hit a container releasing the glowing nanophage. My focus and attention are pushed to their limits. Increasingly more eight-legged drones pile into the room. Their goal isn’t to attack us directly, but to skitter upon the columns to release the green liquid.

We inch further along the room, with everyone glancing around with heavy panicked breaths. “Patriarch behind that pillar!” Dranuxia exclaims, pointing somewhere obscured to me.

It’s too much. The enemy coming from so many directions doesn’t allow me to create a concentrated crushing gravity field like last time. And their sheer numbers overwhelm my awareness. “Run!” I roar, pointing in the direction towards Machsin.

We dash madly through the immense room while I implode any drone that catches my eye, of which there are many. The sound of something delicate breaking is barely noticeable amongst the echoes of metal on metal and frantic footsteps. They are releasing the nanophage! A green oily smoke wisps from a broken container not far behind our group.

“Hurry!” I urge, as more containers of green goo are dropped all around us, falling like putrid fruits from rotten trees. The green smoke weaves and writhes, surging towards us, clearly processing some malevolent organized intelligence. It seeks our flesh, our lives, as if all life is an offense to it.

A warrior at the back of our group runs frantically, but the green smoke is too fast. I reach out with my powers, creating some kind of gravity vortex within the enemy mass, hoping to save him, save us all. My warvisor detects at the nanoscopic level many billions of the tiny killers getting sucked into the void, but the bulk disperses, avoiding my attack.

I create more vortexes, directed towards the most concentrated areas of green smoke, killing many, but they constantly disperse and more containers are opening, releasing an unstoppable horde that infects the very atmosphere. I watch in horror as the warrior is swarmed by lapping waves of oily green smoke.

His suit melts away, breaking down at a molecular level. He stretches out a desperate hand, a silent plea for help, as his skin, then flesh and finally bone is melted away, simply turning to dust, until even that is consumed leaving no trace, like he never existed.

The brutal efficiency of it’s too cruel. That’s no way for a warrior to die. Some others scream as they run, having witnessed the gruesome scene. I sprint with all the speed Dagdorix’s puny body can muster, while I continually will gravity vortexes into the most densely packed mass of smoke, hoping to at least slow it down for us to escape this terrible destructive nanophage.

More warriors fall behind their terrible screams, propelling the rest of us forward. I reach out to one poor soul at the edge of the murderous fumes, pulling him towards me using my powers. But my stomach lurches when instead of a warrior approaching, it’s merely a green-gray puddle of liquid. I recoil at the sight, propelling the remains far away in disgust as fast as I can.

Roaring flames erupt around our group, causing me to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness. It’s Arawnoth standing firmly, his eyes misting red as he stokes and directs the raging torrent. The green mass of smoke halts before probing the flames. It withdraws like a person burning their fingers. “I can’t maintain this forever,” he says, his haughty voice strained.

“Keep moving!” I encourage the survivors. Arawnoth moves the ring of flame protectively around us as we hurry towards the circular door that has just come into view. But the nanophage surges high into the air above the flames, showing its horrifying, murderous intelligence. It seeks to go over the wall of fire as I place more vortexes high above us, trying to prevent it.

Much of the green mass is sucked into my vortexes in its greed to reach us, but more keeps coming, an endless fog that will not stop until we are all dead. Warriors shout and panic as the nanophage looms close overhead. Arawnoth and my protective barrier are now breached, causing another frantic dash for the door. But this time, the green fog surrounds us.

Arawnoth switches his circle of flame to form a corridor of fire leading to the door, our last hope of salvation. The terrible nanophage surges in from behind and above, forcing us all to run for our lives. My pulse rises, seeing Dranuxia struggle to keep up at the back, mere moments from being consumed. I reach out with my powers and send her hurtling towards the door at incredible speeds.

Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Such a fool I am! I then reach out and propel everyone towards the door at such amazing speed, I worry I might hurt them. Next, I project my will into the door, forcing the overlapping sheets of metal open. I watch, relieved to see the warriors scurry inside, safe for now at least.

The hairs on the back of my neck tingle, knowing the nanophage is right behind me now. I desperately try to propel myself forward to the door, like I did with the others, but it doesn’t work. If this body wasn’t so frail, I would’ve made it by now! Urgently, I summon more gravity wells behind me, hoping to stall the enemy. The door is near now, but so is the green mist.

I won’t make it! I consider closing the iris of the door, my last gift to the others before I die, when a female with golden hair and shining silver eyes emerges into the room. With her hands held in front of her, she summons a silver aura around the both of us. In amazement, I watch as the green mist envelopes us, but cannot touch us, held back by the silver force field.

The golden-haired warrior sighs, walking towards me. “With all due respect, Patriarch, you should have easily achieved more,” she says slowly, her voice laced with disappointment. She reaches towards the iris of the door, the edges of the metal glow silver as it pulls shut. Does she have the same powers as Dagdorix?

She casually looks around at the swirling green mist that swarms around us. “It’s easy to take advantage of a one-track mind,” she titters, gesturing with her hands. “Look how, without the others, it gathers around us, so greedy and desperate, so easy to manipulate.”

I cast my eyes around us. The surrounding air is so thick with oily green mist it’s hard to see anything beyond. They appear almost like a solid wall, and just on the edges beyond them, the rest of the room looks as clear as it did before the nanophage was released.

The golden-haired female leans in close, whispering into my ear. “I know you’re not who you appear to be. The real Dagdorix would never falter like this.” She sounds almost amused as she nods at the door. “Machsin also, something is very different about you two.”

My eyes widen in shock as my mind races for an explanation. But she continues before I can conjure a reply. “A shame that it is not under... more favorable circumstances.” She places a hand on my arm, causing me to swat her hand away in surprise.

“I belong to another!” I shout, my voice rising heatedly.

She merely laughs. “Of course, you always do.”

“I’m here to kill the Machine God... Void Bringer, nothing more,” I say, wincing at my mistake.

“Machine God? How curious.” She steps away sighing “Our goals are aligned, whoever you are. But you’ll need to harness Dagdorix’s full powers.”

“And how do I do that?” I ask, deciding it’s best not to lie to her.

She nonchalantly shrugs. “Only Dagdorix could answer that.” With a casual gesture, she creates small pockets of silver fields within the green mass, then effortlessly shrinks them down to nothing, crushing all within. “But his powers are truly awe-inspiring, that’s why he was named Patriarch. He teleported us here, bending time and space itself, so who knows what he’s really capable of?”

My warvisor obscures the frown on my face. She hints at powers but tells me nothing about how to use them. Bend time and space? I’ve been doing that by creating those vortexes? The problem is, I can’t cover such a large range with so many almost invisible enemies. Or can I?

I gather my focus as my eyes glow and mist purple, concentrating on creating a swirling vortex high above us. Only the closest lump of nanophage is pulled into the gravity field, disappearing into the void. Moving my hands, I imagine pulling the vortex apart, stretching it over the area like fibers of a tree branching out in all directions.

They extend like ethereal tendrils, weaving through the air, creating an otherworldly lattice. I continue to manipulate the surging energy, almost unconsciously, as if doing it through muscle memory alone. The weaves grow tighter and tighter, forming into a solid blanket of whirling power. Knowing that no gaps exist even for the nanoscopic green mass to pass through.

I slowly lower the cosmic layer down upon the solid green mass. My heart pounds in my chest watching the nanophage get sucked into the temporal weave, blinking out of reality before even being touched. The golden-haired woman laughs. “Splendid.”

I continue the descent until the cosmic layer enshrouds the entire green mass, resting atop the silver shield wielded by the golden-haired woman. “Don’t stop!” She demands. Harder, I push, my eyes glowing with more purple light, willing my vortex blanket to penetrate the silver field. In response, her eyes glow with greater intensity as she raises her hands, trying to fortify her barrier.

Her resistance is fierce. I can feel it, like pushing against a blocked door. But like a blocked door, it just needs a hard knock. I raise a hand that glows purple, sending a surge of additional power into my vortex shroud. Suddenly, the silver shield blinks out of existence as the female falls to the ground, panting heavily.

I reach down, offering her a hand up, as my warvisor scans, finding not a single trace of nanophage left in the air. Although we must hurry should the drones release more containers. “Amazing,” the golden-haired female says, taking my hand in hers, “Such terrifying strength.” She dusts herself off after getting to her feet. “You’re ready.”

I know.