Page 136 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Then, his voice cuts through the chaos, sharp, insistent. “Divine Daughter?” At least, I think it’s him. Everything’s kind of fuzzy and surreal right now.
“Divine Daughter!” The rude bastard yells directly into my face, his breath hot and urgent.
“What!?” I whip around, glaring, meeting his demanding stare.
“More incoming!” Sarkoth—I think—shouts. As if to confirm it, shadows sweep over us. Space-knights track their movements, weapons raised, ready to fight. A deafening cacophony of energy blasts and high-pitched hisses fills the air. Turning my mind into Jello.
It won’t stop.
It won’t stop.
“Where are the War Chieftain and the Second?” Jazreal presses, voice sharp, urgent—rude.
“Look out!”
A space-knight’s roar cuts through the chaos as shields snap into place, a synchronized wall of shimmering energy blocking the incoming barrage.
A dozen searing blasts crash against the barrier, the force sending two warriors hurtling backward, their armor scraping against the ground. Before they can even rise, others step forward, filling the gap without hesitation.
The line does not break.
But I barely see them.
The world tilts, the battlefield a blur of motion and color, a deafening storm of sound and fury. The air is thick with the scent of ozone, molten metal, and burnt flesh, stinging my eyes as I struggle to make sense of the moment.
“Gone...” I mumble, the word slips from my lips unbidden, weak, distant.
Dracoth? Does he mean Dracoth? My poor babes. He’s gone. And it’s my fault. A hollow, sinking dread churns in my gut, dragging my stomach to my boots. My skin crawls with an unnatural cold, creeping up my spine like frozen vines.
“His little puppy’s gone too.” I whisper, the words like lead on my tongue.
“On your feet Berserkers!” The barked command barely registers.
Blue energy flares through the darkness, the battlefield pulsing like a monochrome nightmare, a stuttering light show I can’t escape. Everything is so loud, so fast. I can barely see over the towering wall of space-knights, their massive forms blotting out the battle.
“Gone?” Jazreal echoes, his gaze shifting to the haunted mansion’s entrance, uncertainty written across half his face. He lingers, staring at the door as if willing Dracoth to stumble through it. But he doesn’t.
“How can that be—” And Jazreal’s head lowers, his jaw clenching in thought. “What are your orders, Divine Daughter?”
Orders? A Margarita and Wagyu Sliders with caramelized onions and truffle aioli.
That’s what I want. Instead, I get a warzone.
My gaze drifts upward, toward the vast black void, searching for answers, finding more confusion. TheRavager’s Ruin—my lovely, lovely ship—is under siege. Its shields flicker, rippling under the onslaught, swarmed by murder-orbs and the monstrous silhouette of the Voidbane.
How fucking dare they!
Space flares with blinding blue light, theRavager’s Ruinunleashing a barrage of cannon fire, a sunburst of energy streaking across the void. The entire battle feels surreal, distant—like watching a movie at the cinema with the sound muted, the violence an abstract painting of light and death.
“Home,” I murmur absently, only half-aware I’m speaking.
Jazreal’s head snaps toward me. “Klendathor?” Jazreal grimaces, like I’ve just declared tea superior to mocha. His eyes follow mine, taking in the battle unfolding above. The shifting shadows deepen on his face. “We’ll never outrun them long enough.”
I frown. “Earth?” It’s boring, but at least it’s safe.
Yes. A brilliant idea!
Above, even our rust-bucket, old-ass ship joins the fray. Its cannons glow, spitting searing energy into the void, the blue streaks cutting through the abyss. The Voidbane—that floating slab of doom and despair—tilts under the onslaught. Its shields flare to life, pulsing blue as they absorb the barrage, the sheer force making it list to one side.
