Page 74 of Scorching the Alien Empire
When I awoke, she was gone.
Only the Crucible prevents me from hunting her down. And yet... a part of me is relieved. She would only press me to seize greater power—to embrace our glorious destiny, no matter the cost. My insatiable War Chieftainess.
The deeper we descend, the quieter the world becomes. The stairwells grow colder, the air more stagnant. A suffocating presence tightens around us like a dark shroud. Even Ignixis, for all his endless prattling, has fallen uncharacteristically silent.
Only his ragged breaths remain, trailing after me like death rattles.
I lose track of time, frustration mounting with each echoing footstep. The dots on my wrist console move at a crawl, agonizingly slow, as if the ship itself resists my approach.
The walls seem to hum now—not the dull thrum of engines, but something deeper, subsonic. The vibration travels up through my boots, rippling across my armor in waves too deliberate, too forceful to dismiss.
A loathsome anxiety prickles the hairs on my neck.
The nature of this Scythian entity is unknown. What force or power will it wield? Will it be something surreal and supernatural, like what Princesa and I have become? Or deploy mere psychological tricks—a cruel people cowering behind their machines?
Who are the Scythians, truly? What do they look like?
A sound, faint at first, teases my ears. A rhythmic whisper, from everywhere and nowhere. It grows louder, more frequent, coalescing into a cacophony of voices that speak in the same garbled, manic static from before. Except the edge of laughter is more obvious now, almost mocking and taunting with each haunting burst.
My wrist console beeps, jolting me from my hazy thoughts.
Before me stands an immense door, shrouded in shadows, as if drinking in the dim violet light. Beyond it lies the Crucible. The air is thick, pressing down with an unseen weight, and an acrid scent—ozone and burnt metal—singes my nostrils.
I glance back.
Ignixis finally arrives, wheezing clouds of breath, beads of sweat glistening on his runic face despite the chill.
“Arawnoth give us strength,” he rasps, glancing around the oppressive corridor. He reaches into his robes and withdraws aclump of soil, pressing it into his forehead. “For you,” he offers, approaching with a handful in his wizened palm.
I wave him off. My strength is not in soil, but in flesh, muscle, bone—unbreakable resolve, born of Arawnoth’s fire.
“No more riddles, old one?” I ask, my eyes locked on the looming door, its surface humming with energy.
Ignixis exhales slowly, his gaze distant. “No more riddles,” he mutters, though it sounds more like a promise to himself than to me. A beat passes before he continues, softer now, almost to the ship itself. “What I do... everything I’ve done... was for Arawnoth.” His fingers twitch around the clump of soil. “Follow your heart, Dracoth. I pray it leads us to where I think it will.”
His voice is solemn, resigned.
“Spoken like a condemned traitor about to kiss Scarn’s volcanoes,” I say, heat curling through my words. My Rush bubbles just beneath the surface, surging in anticipation of the challenge ahead.
I step forward.
The door hisses open.
My heart will condemn us all.
Chapter 16
Dracoth
Pain
Insidetheaccursedchamber,malignant energy crackles and sears the air in a rhythmic thrum. Sickly green threads pulse faintly, thickening as they weave like putrid veins toward the room’s heart.
Suspended in the void, a machine—massive and oblong—looms like a slumbering beast. Black metal slick with condensation and glistening ice, as if it consumes heat itself. Thick, cord-like conduits slither from the walls, pulsing with energy, twitching like arteries feeding a ravenous hunger. Each surge casts rippling emerald hues across the chamber, mirroring the endless lattice of beams in the void beyond.
This Crucible is not just a machine. It is the devouring heart of that infernal system.
Our breaths spill out in ragged plumes as we step inside. My every muscle is coiled, my eyes scanning the dim expanse for treachery. Unnatural frost gnaws deeper with every step, latching onto my armor in crystalline flecks.
