Page 7 of Owned By the Hvrok

And then it came.

A voice.

One word.

Spoken in a language that carried no translation, but reverberated through her bones like the crack of a mountain splitting in half.

Low. Deep. Measured.

The market silenced in a single breath.

The glyphs froze in the air. The lights dimmed.

And the crowdmoved.

Not because they were pushed.

Because theyknew.

They parted like prey sensing a predator. A ripple of unease passed through the gathered aliens: hushed murmurs, clicks of disbelief, warbled warnings. Even the red brute took a stepback, his snarl cut short, confusion contorting his features into something like fear.

Sylvia didn’t understand… until shesawhim.

He walked through the opening crowd without haste, without comment.

And the moment she laid eyes on him, the air seemed to vanish from the room.

He was enormous. Tall and broad, every inch encased in armor so black itdrankthe light around it. There were no glowing sigils, no adornments, no rank markings. Only pure, endless black, like a void given form. The armor moved like liquid metal, seamless, flexible, and somehowwrong,as if it weren’t made for this universe.

A helmet covered his head: sleek, sharp, angular. No eyes. No mouth. Just a single, brutal visor that gave away nothing.

Weapons lined his body. Thick, high-caliber cannons on his back. A jagged blade on one hip. Strange alien tech along the other. Devices Sylvia couldn’t even begin to comprehend. All of it silent. All of it deadly.

And from his back, tightly folded…

Wings.

Not feathered. Not delicate.

But massive. Armored. Segmented. Built of the same void-black material as the rest of him. They shifted slightly with each step, an ominous whisper of movement that felt more biological than mechanical.

He didn’t speak again.

He didn’t have to.

The auctioneer—a floating orb with mechanical limbs—issued a low, pulsing tone. The bid was final. Accepted.

The other bidders turned away, some muttering in disbelief, others simply vanishing into the shadows. Even the red bruteseemed to shrink, his victory stolen. Fear hung in the air like smoke. Not one dared protest.

Sylvia couldn’t breathe.

Her cell began to lower slowly from the stage, the translucent panels folding back with a whisper.

She stood, frozen.

The black-armored being moved to meet her descent. His posture unshifting. His intent unknowable.

She stared at him—her new owner—and felt every drop of blood drain from her face.

---