by Drew Hayes
In that moment, seeing a force so much greater than itself, the creature had just enough time to experience genuine terror. Seconds later, a blow that seemed to fracture reality itself rang out, the shred of light stretching through the darkness of space. It made no sense, that a being so small could wield such power, but the pain radiating forth would tolerate no second-guesses.
For the first time in its existence, the endlessly devouring creature born from the void of space was being genuinely challenged.
“That’s...”
The first translated whistle reached Fornax’s ears moments after Lodestar’s initial blow. Before their eyes, a tremendous burst of energy tore forth from the point of impact, like a crack made of light splintering across the windshield of the universe. That was merely the spectacle, however. What was visible when the light cleared was the real show.
“That’s...”
Against all known reason and sense, the Scralthor had been sent reeling back, blasted away from its shining snack by one true blow from Lodestar. It opened its mouth, letting out some unseen howl lost in the distance of the void. The creature turned to face this blazing threat, taking it seriously at last, far too late. Another blow sent it hurtling further away, Lodestar proving she had plenty more punches to throw, if needed.
“That’s...”
In truth, Fornax didn’t even need the translator for these words. He’d heard them spoken over and over again through the decades. Sometimes, the language changed, or the voice, or even the form of speech, yet the feeling was always the same. It was the sound of understanding setting in, the audible crunch as delusions of grandeur were smashed apart. Scheming scientists, aspiring gods, invading monsters, horrific villains: they all sounded alike when the reality of what they were facing finally landed.
“That’s impossible!” Finally, Zerle Salvrin got the words out, joining a rich Earth tradition he had no idea he was even part of. The words Fornax had been waiting for, the signal that his work could at last draw to a conclusion.
“Yes, it is, not that she gives a damn. This is what it means to stand against the Lodestar,” Ivan explained. “That is the lid on the pressure cooker of our planet, the limit we cannot rise above, the force that rises to meet every challenge. Barrage of giant robots, summoned army of demoids, or even asteroid-sized monsters from space. It doesn’t matter. It never matters. All hope of victory has been stolen. No amount of training, or planning, or effort will ever be enough, regardless of how hard any of us try. Do you understand now, Zerle Salvrin, why the day was lost before it began? Even if there are any Wrexwren left out there, they’ll never be a threat to Earth. Getting past her only means dealing with all the hungry beasts of the planet that eagerly await fresh targets.”
Fornax couldn’t destroy hope, but Lodestar did it by her nature. While inspiring those she protected was all well and good, being on the other end of that equation wasn’t nearly so nice. It forced one into the simple realization that some walls could never be climbed, certain challenges left forever unmet. Watching her beat a natural force of the cosmos away like nothing more than a shoplifter’s hand reaching for a candy bar, Fornax himself felt the same wave of despair as Zerle Salvrin and anyone else who dreamed of being the strongest. Once they knew how high that bar really was, the impossibility of the task became unshakable.
“There will be more Wrexwren.” Zerle Salvrin was whistling sharply now, trying to twist his head away from the screen; however, Fornax kept it held firmly in place. “They will find a way to deal with your planet’s defender, and you will suffer for this day.”
Taking a moment to be sure there were no sudden surprises in store with the Lodestar fight, Fornax moved slowly around, putting his head in Zerle Salvrin’s line of sight. By no coincidence, this also gave the floating cameras a good view of both Fornax and Zerle Salvrin’s faces as they looked into one another.
“In truth, they wouldn’t,” Fornax corrected. “Whatever tricks they’d have brought would be irrelevant. Trust me, if anyone, on this subject: Lodestar rises to the challenge. Not that it matters, anyway. Because no more Wrexwren are coming, Zerle Salvrin. You see, we didn’t tell you everything about that destructive wave from earlier, did we, Doc?”
The voice came immediately, finally tipping off some of the viewers at home to just how planned all of this had been. Fornax was never in danger; they were toying with the alien who’d challenged Earth, drawing the fight out to make him suffer.
“As a matter of fact, there was one tidbit we omitted. What we used wasn’t merely some sort of short-range attack; it was coded into a signal. And my, you Wrexwren have just as robust an interstellar communications array on your warships as I was hoping for. Capable of reaching across innumerable light years in a matter of moments. I’ve been watching their systems detonate one after another, never even aware they were under attack. I’ll scroll some of their identification codes on the screen, just in case you need proof.”
Twisting against Fornax’s grip, Zerle Salvrin tried to look away, not that there were any good alternatives to the horror in his gaze. Above, he saw Lodestar smacking down what was meant to be his ace in the hole, now with alien symbols flashing on the side of the image, the names of more downed ships across the stars. Next to him was the twisted joy in Fornax’s face, eager to dole out more suffering. Even looking to nothing held no escape, as his mind filled with images of all his kin dying in space without warning.
“You would not do such a thing. To destroy our ships, murdering untold soldiers far from conflict… that is beyond the scope of war.”
“Beyond the scope of your war, maybe. Humans are a truly unforgivable species. Then again, you came here to invade, to wipe us out. Did you expect to have fewer stakes in the fight? Think we’d be content with merely driving you off? Ridiculous dreams. Ours is not such a benevolent way of thinking. Our kind would sooner rip the moon in half than let a chance for vengeance go unfulfilled. Come for this planet, and know you do so with the life of everyone you care for riding along. Consider the preemptive genocide of the Wrexwren army our version of a warning shot to the galaxy at large.”
Finally, Fornax shifted his gaze away from Zerle Salvrin, turning to the cameras. “Because this isn’t only being broadcast to the citizens of Earth. Doctor Mechaniacal is using your ship to send this video out to every receiving system out there. A galactic hello, from the hellpit of Earth, in case any other eager aliens have thoughts about sending more invaders.” His eyes shifted back, down to the rattled form of Zerle Salvrin. “We’ll get to them. First, I believe you and I have some unfinished business.”
The truth was settling in. Their previous demonstration proved that not only could they remotely blow up ships, but they absolutely had zero compunctions in doing so. Zerle Salvrin raised an arm, half-forming a claw to strike with, only for the appendage to drop heavily. Nearly there. Just a bit more to finish out the job.
“Zerle Salvrin, I present you with a rare opportunity. Based on the state of your ships and the conditions waiting for your invaders, even the few who survive our signal won’t be able to withstand the wrath of all those other planets you attacked. There is a real chance you may end up being the last of the Wrexwren army. Yet all hope is not lost. Doctor Mechaniacal can still halt the signal before every ship is reached. I’m willing to offer a way out, and make no mistake, this is your only chance to save countless Wrexwren soldiers. Let us see if you are a leader who can also be humbled. Accept that your people are helpless, that you live or die only by our pleasure, that your strength is nothing. I will permit you to beg for your life.”
Releasing the grip on Zerle Salvrin’s head, Fornax slowly took a few steps back, visibly unworried about potential attacks. First, he’d broken Zerle Salvrin’s faith in his physical strength, showing that Fornax was unquestionably the more powerful of the two. Then, he’d broken Zerle Salvrin’s sense of strength in numbers, decimating the forces that had earned him his title. Next, Lodestar destroyed a
ny hope he had that the Wrexwren people would ever be able to overcome this obstacle, making sure he would die for nothing, not even a potential new invasion target. Now, they’d come to the hardest part for beings like Zerle Salvrin, the reason Fornax had needed to knock away every other support before arriving to this point: it was time to break his pride.
A being like Zerle Salvrin would never beg for himself. That was a truth Fornax understood to his bones. Yet the experience of Ivan also gave insight, because even the staunchest of warriors had something they would beg to save—he knew that firsthand. Being the final survivor of the invasion would be a heavy enough burden to carry; to be the last warrior of his species was a concept beyond horrific. A battle that couldn’t be won by strength, the only chance for victory was in weakness, contrary to what seemed to be every facet of the Wrexwren culture.
Unable to read the emotions on what passed for Zerle Salvrin’s face, Fornax nevertheless watched the storm of them flow. Eventually, the Wrexwren leaned forward, using one hand to extend his head slightly, while dropping the three working legs into all right angles, creating a sort of suspended crouch. Not quite a bow by human standards, yet clearly meant to convey vulnerability in the same way. Head angled toward the floor, Zerle Salvrin’s whistles echoed around the room before being translated.
“I ask... on behalf of the Wrexwren species... for time to discuss terms of surrender.”
“Terms? What terms do you think there will be? Which pieces of you we dissect versus which ones we try eating? Terms are for people with leverage, Zerle Salvrin. You don’t have that.” Fornax paused, waiting a moment for reply before deciding the wound needed a dash more salt. “Want to know what’s really funny? There was never a point where you had a chance. The only reason you’re here is that someone on my planet wanted to occupy the AHC, so they sent bait to lure you down. And my people decided to make better use of you. Do you understand what I’m saying, Zerle Salvrin? You didn’t even warrant a warning shot. Instead, you are the warning we’re giving to rest of the universe. All you’ve been from the start are pawns in an Earth scheme. Countless Wrexwren slaughtered, for nothing more than a game.”
There was a moment where Zerle Salvrin appeared to be on the edge of taking a swing, only to feel the confidence that would back such a play suddenly absent. Every other avenue of hope had been cut off by Fornax. There was no fighting a way out of this, no rescue was coming, and even if he escaped, where would Zerle Salvrin flee to? A cosmos full of formerly conquered planets would have quite a few entities looking for payback against the last known Wrexwren soldier. The only hope of living long enough to preserve his people’s legacy was in front of him—that was the conclusion there was no skirting around.
“Mighty Fornax, great warrior of Earth. I humbly beg of you, please spare me. Let me live on in my shame, a worthless coward weakling. We greatly erred in challenging this world. Your power was more than even the Wrexwren could handle. Please, let my cowering life serve as testament to the collective strength of Earth.”
It had taken some time, yet Fornax delivered as promised. The leader of the invading alien forces, hunkered over, pleading for his life, with most of Earth and unknown viewers across the galaxy tuned in for the show. Beating Zerle Salvrin would have been simple and proved just as little. Breaking him completely was far more terrifying, all the more so to any who’d faced the Wrexwren and their seemingly endless pride.
“That was excellent,” Fornax said, peering down at his former opponent. “You held nothing back. I couldn’t ask for a more earnest, sincere pleading. Well done, Zerle Salvrin.” The words were slightly softer, encouraging the alien to look up, providing a momentary view of Fornax’s boot lifted high overhead. “But my answer is no.”
One stomp, a spray of liquid, and Zerle Salvrin was nothing more than a headless torso flopping about on the ground. Soon even those movements slowed.
Fornax, however, was only getting started, gaze darting between the body and the cameras.
“No, because the Wrexwren were garbage, nothing but a species of brutish fodder. You died the way you were always meant to: cut down effortlessly by those with real power. Yet in your death, and the death of your entire species’ armed forces, you will serve one actual function: our warning message to the rest of the universe. Because if those of you out there watching haven’t realized it yet, Earth is not a place for amateurs. To even face us, you have to get past Lodestar, and the lesser capes at her aid. So if you’d like to test your mettle, feel free to come take a swing.”
Fornax lifted Zerle Salvrin’s body from the floor, hurling it against the wall, where it collided with a damp thud, largely splattering across the gleaming metal. “But unless you’re already the strongest being in your corner of the galaxy, don’t bother. We don’t want your refuse. We want your conquerors, your kings, your gods and demons. Prey worthy of sinking our fangs into, something that can offer up a proper challenge.”
Grabbing the middle camera, Fornax pulled it in close, making sure his rune-covered eyes filled up the entirety of the shot. “Earth is riddled with monsters, and we are all so very... hungry.”
Rick was shaking. Not violently, not even noticeably, if one wasn’t paying close attention. His mother’s arms slipped over his shoulders, and even as the logical part of his brain insisted that she was part of this too, it was drowned out by how much of him needed that hug.
How had he not seen... because why would he? How would he? In what world could his dad, Ivan Gerhardt, the plain, dull, middle manager be... no, even the thought was too much. But those words floated back up: “rip the moon in half.” Who talked like that? Ivan did, when he was being serious. Such a stupid turn of phrase, yet it had been like a pin pricking the side of a balloon, and now, there was no way to put back all the realizations that were escaping.
Twisting, he meant to speak to his mother, only to recoil in horror at the expression on her face. Was that pride? Admiration? It absolutely was not the appropriate reaction to a man saying he’d wiped out part of a species and then brutally murdering a beaten foe.
“Why?” That was surprising—he’d thought the question of how would win out, but much of Rick’s brain was working on autopilot at the moment. “Why is he doing this?”
“On the immediate level, to help keep the world safe,” Janet replied. Not one sliver of hesitation to her voice. She’d been ready and waiting. “In a longer term sense, to help keep us safe.”
Now, Rick did throw off her arm, physically scooching over on the sheet. “How does that have anything to do with us?”
Never had Rick seen an expression like what darted over his mother’s face. Dark, harsh, determined and set, he wondered how many times she’d had to wear that, given who she’d evidently married. “It has everything to do with us. Your father just walked onto a stage in front of the universe and sent two very clear messages. The first is not to challenge Earth idly, which should give any other potential invaders a long pause before they pester us. The second message is what happens specifically to anyone who crosses Fornax. After seeing what he just did to someone he had no grudge against, would you ever want to incur that man’s true wrath?”
There wasn’t an easy answer for that. Rick had a hunch it would be a long while before he found any easy answers at all, in fact. Laying his face in his hands, Rick closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind so he could think.
Instead, all that waited for him in the darkness were those horrible eyes with the glowing red runes. Only now, he couldn’t stop seeing them embedded on his father’s face.
Chapter 124
The sudden cold of metal shocked Lozora nearly as much as the force being exerted. Someone was yanking on her shoulder, trying to pull her up to a standing position, despite her weakened leg. She turned to find Hephaestus staring down, gauntleted hand on her, while the free digits motioned back to where everyone else was either stricken with grief or slowly emerging from the pile of collapsed debris.
&nbs
p; “We should be gone.”
Given the state of the superheroes, Lozora could see the wisdom there. Logic said she’d just been double-crossed by the same person who’d attacked them, putting everyone on the same side. But they’d just watched a friend die to save them all. Logic wasn’t necessarily the current captain of decision-making. With emotions running this high, the last thing they needed was an outlet.
Much as she detested the help, there was no way she could escape with her leg’s current condition. Doing her best not to appear annoyed by the gracious assistance, she allowed herself to be hauled up onto Hephaestus’s shoulder and steadily walked out into the hallway. No one seemed to notice or follow. They were all lost in the moment, looking up to the sky, though whether it was searching for their lost ally or admiring Lodestar’s handiwork was anyone’s guess. Only the dragon appeared unconcerned, gently lifting up the ski-mask woman, who was still sleeping soundly.
Together, Lozora and Hephaestus trudged down the hall, weaving their way through the groaning, injured bodies of her former crew. The capes weren’t going to come down easy on this group, not with one of their own now dead. All the better to get clear before they started arriving. Nevertheless, she didn’t trust such a kind gesture, even as she needed it.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to stay with your friends back there,” Lozora noted. “One of them seemed to have gotten knocked out.”
“Which is why Bahamut’s job is to take her somewhere to get help,” Hephaestus explained. “Sorry to disappoint, but you weren’t the first item on my checklist when the dust settled. You’re not even the first thing I picked up. Still, with the capes always having each other’s backs, we villains have to look out for one another occasionally, too. Otherwise, those saps will always have the upper hand.”