The humanoid drags me into a dark corridor as multi-ringed waves of heavenly light expand outwards across the area, knocking the members of the armed force unit off their feet.
Then, every humanoid within a radius is elevated into the air in simultaneous synchronicity. They thrash around, trying to wrestle with the law of gravity. Their limbs twist and snap before being riven from their sockets. Bodily fluid sputters and squirts out from where their limbs have been torn, before they are stripped down to their bare metal frame, then crushed. Reduced to a doused compaction and dropped from suspension. Smashing down onto the floor. Adding more brittle waste to the surrounding evidence of carnage.
The core moves - and before I could witness what was about to unfold, my cheek abruptly collided with a sharp corner as we took a rough turn. He hurls me forward. I tumble down and land on my stomach, hitting my chin on the floor.
I groan as I try to sit up.
That bloody hurt.
Everything throbs and aches. I lift my gaze from the floor to find two extraterrestrials standing before me, engaging in conversation. One of them is a humanoid, and the other is...
Hair-raising apprehension forces me to be still, like a deer caught in the beaming headlights of an oncoming car. The other one is tall and has a pair of stoic, black eyes, embodying a finite abyss. Spikes protrude from its shoulders, collarbone, forearms, hands, and legs. A sickly yellowish-green weeps from their crusting wounds on their bruised chest and abdomen.
It survived?
How?
Does it even have pain receptors? Mind you, I shouldn't be surprised. Praying mantises are related to cockroaches after all. I look around, and there is a wide yet curved panoramic, blacked-out screen rounding the multi-rimmed walls.
In the centre of the dark Argentine interior is a holographic projection of a cerulean globe covered in neutral shaded patches.
Is that Earth?
"I...h..av..e...s..ent...a...message regarding our situation." The humanoid stresses to the mantis.
His chain of stuttering evolves into a smooth coherence. Eliminating the interfering white noise between each word, the broken translation becomes accurate and transparent. I can understand him properly. Reven also came through in a similar way when he tried to communicate with me for the first time. It was quiet and unclear. A confusing invasion of untranslatable whispers, so to speak.
"I suggest you refrain from disturbing him." The mantis advises sternly.
I can understand her as well.
"He has enough to contend with. We can manage the issue until he returns."
"No! This is a matter of emergency. The mother pod is unstable and requires immediate attention, or else the core will..."
"I advise caution in the future when it comes to your choice of words. If you don't learn to respect your superior quickly, I may have to deconstruct you, segment by segment, and install a few more modifications. I am sure our eminence would not mind." His vermillion eyes are full of wavering confidence and uncertainty, stressed under the pressure of their predicament.
Reven's assault has crippled and demolished the opposition; no wonder he's fretting over it. And that's good. I enjoy watching them bicker and lack the upper hand. Especially after the way they have treated me so far, grabbing and throwing me around as if I'm some children's play toy.
"Continue to counter and subdue the core. We must show our eminence that we can manage and solve this predicament on our own."
She then eyes me from head to toe.
"As for this anomaly. I shall contain it for observational and security purposes. The timing of the specimen's arrival and the core's revolt is both impeccable and coincidental. I am not prone to superstition, but the subject's auric signature is rather anachronistic, which makes it extraordinarily unique compared to my other cases of study. Do you not agree?" She looms over the humanoid, threatening his personal space with her haughty demeanor. Conveying a glacial oppressiveness in her tone. Her eyes glint with a predatory sadism as they watch him shrink back pathetically in submission and nod with a defeated spirit.
"Well then. That wasn't so difficult, now was it?" She mused.
He meekly nods again. Concluding the conversation between them.
The circumference groans and jars as it instigates rotational movement - gaining momentum. The craft tips forward. The two aliens stagger but quickly regain their posture and straighten their backs. Upholding their positions with a solid composure and steady balance. With nothing to hold onto, I slide down to the front of the window screen. The hologram flickers as an extreme close-up of a cerulean rim of a planet comes into view. With a swift, fluid motion, the holographic projection slithers back into the floor, glistening like a reversal rivulet of spring water.
Cords burst out of the ceiling and the floor, tearing the interior apart as they slither towards me in haste before a destructive tremor rattles the entire craft. The Motherpod plunges uncontrollably into the planet's exosphere. Flashes of orange catch onto the edges of the window, casting a vibrant hue onto the riven interior. Providing an elevated blanket of heat, causing me to swelter.
I grab one of the cords and hold onto it as they encircle me. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for impact.
"Alex."
Engulfed by and secured within the comforts of total blackness. Kept inside my own abyss while curled up in a fetal position - floating in nothingness, with no grasp of gravity or time – my personal void. To me, darkness is a silent lifelong companion of mine who abstains from judgment and watches over me in its most omnipresent form.
I move my head and uncoil my body. I straighten my legs to kick something hard - ringing out a blunt, resonant echo. I begin to feel around. Exploring this new space.
It's strong and solid from all sides.
Stroking the indentations and ridges. There is a cold, uneven, smoothness. The sleek metal slithers underneath my fingertips. It's as if the walls are alive and comprised of countless snakes. I'm boxed in, and I can't see a damn thing. I wish I had brought my torch with me.
My confinement trembles, and a horrible screech perforates my eardrums when a layer of darkness is torn right from above me. Bright, fervid rays shine into my enclosed space. The stripped layer is tossed aside and out of sight, ending with a heavy weighted bang. An indirect gust of humidity blows into my face. I slowly take the edges of my deformed hollow nest, but before I could lift myself onto my feet, a silhouette of a humongous hand descends from above - eclipsing the sun.
My skin is contracted by heating metal as I am plucked from my cord-constructed cradle and hoisted high into the air, caged in by rows of co-jointed columns. Uprooting my hold on gravity. Thrown off balance. Meddling with my sense of coordination. Edging along the definitive line of mental fatigue. Twinges and pangs strike my ligaments. Draining most of my physical strength. I couldn't find it within me to retort to whoever is currently manhandling me.
I pitifully crawl from the middle of the alloyed platform to sit next to one of the thick rectangular columns. There is a wide enough gap for me to squeeze through. I look down. I'm being carried at least ten feet off the ground. I'd rather not take my chances. I'm not that desperate to break my legs, well, not yet. I hug the column to steady myself and stay upright. Sweat pools in my underarm, as well as coating my forehead and neck.
"When we are at a safer distance, I will brief you on our situational development."
"Reven?" I ask almost in disbelief. What the hell happened to him? I continue to hold onto his finger as his thunderous steps run at a steadfast pace across the uphill terrain of an impressive mountainous landscape.
After covering some decent ground. His pace slows - and he eventually stops. Feeling the basal tremor of his fingers groan, I shuffle backwards into the centre of his shaded palm. His four digits uncurl as his hand becomes flat, and staring down at me is a large, blue oval optic irradiating with an unwavering celestial vitality. Metal panels assemble his angular visage. His sturdy physique is fused together with jagged and rustic slabs from the neck downwards, providing him with an armored exterior. Shielding the intricate network of cords underneath. Thin protrusions edge along his biceps and cone-shaped skull, as horns would.
I'm immobilised by awe and made speechless by the steel titan who holds me in his palm.
Is he a robot, perhaps? A cliché assumption, I know. This isn't some sort of sci-fi novel or movie - this is reality. And that realness is staring down at me.
He raises his palm to the height of his shoulder, insinuating for me to climb on. I grapple onto his armor and bring my foot forward, then pull myself up. I hiss as the heated steel grazes against the tenderness of my enclosing wound. I don't want to start bleeding again.
I turn my hand over to see if it has. Thankfully, it hasn't.
Not even a swelling dot or a measly trickle.
Without a first aid kit or visiting the doctor, there is a high chance of it becoming infected, rather than scabbing over.
Oh, the wonderful possibility of sweet sepsis. Joy of joys; it's going to be my fucking birthday soon!
I hook my fingers into the shallow clefts between the individual slabs as I climb onto his shoulder and sit in the crook of his neck. I hold onto the surrounding protruding layers of steel to help myself maintain an even balance. Trying not to look down.
Then an unforeseen quake rips through the earth from beneath us, followed by a primal bellow. Shaking me to the very core. A white crescent rises above Reven's head. I squint at it. Unable to distinguish it clearly as it gleams while greeting the sun.
Why is the moon rising in the day? And why is it glinting?
Then it occurred to me. That isn't the moon.
Reven apprehends the blade from behind in mid descent, before it could cleave into his skull. The long, curved edge of the blade saws into his palm as the wielder applies more weighted pressure. A terrible sting cuts right across my palm. Sawn into my wound. And yet, when I came to examine my own injury, there was no sign of it worsening or any bloodshed.
What's going on with me? Why am I feeling this phantom pain?
Clear liquid seeps from his trembling hands. It's similar to the bodily fluid that submerged the humanoid carcasses during his assault on board the Motherpod. I never saw the conclusive outcome of the craft after it had plummeted from the planet's exosphere.
I wonder if this is actually Earth, or at least something identical to it?
I know for certain it crashed, seeing as Reven and myself are here intact. I never caught a glimpse of the crash site. Maybe it's just as well.
The blade owner grunts with dissatisfaction and impatience. Sweat-glazed strands of brown hair fall over his eyes as he tears the crescent blade from Reven's grip - slashing across his palms in withdrawal.
He raises his dagger again.
Reven spins around and seizes the giant's wrist. He bends it backwards and then twists it, earning an acute, audible crack. The dagger slips from the owner's stubby fingers and recaptures his weapon in mid-fall with his other hand. I throw myself against Reven's neck as the dagger is driven through his shoulder, missing me by a meter. He wedges it in between the slabs while twisting it maliciously and slicing his cords. Sneering at the steel titan. Mocking him.
Fluid resurfaces and races down his chest in multiple streamlets. Reven groans inside my mind. I clench my jaw and bear my teeth, braving through the shot of pain sharply churning inside my shoulder.
There's no injury.
No blood drawn.
Has my connection to him made me empathetic as well?
Then why didn't I feel anything while I was on board the Motherpod?
Was it because our interconnection was just established and weak at that time?
In theory, the more we communicate and the longer we stay together, the stronger our connection becomes. Great; just what I need. More pain.
Wincing as I grab my shoulder, I grin and bear my empathic burden.
Reven clutches the giant's round, gluttonous face, digging his fingers into the sagged folds of skin, permitting the pain to spur his actions. His single optic ignites with a smoldering azure. Boiling vapors ascend from the slit gap between his circular lens and visage before a beam of pure mana blasts directly from his cycloptic eye. Specks of dark sapphire shed from the concentrated blast as it melts through the glutton's face, causing a gruesome implosion of blood, melted bone, and brain matter.
The stench of scorched flesh wafts from the facial cave in. I cover my mouth, trying not to inhale the vomit-inducing malodor.
Reven allows his grip to falter, and his enemy falls to the earth, undignified – without grace. He wrenches the blade from out of his shoulder with a telepathic grunt and inspects the imbrued crescent. Mindfully scanning its tainted curvature. He twirls it between his fingers, then spins around to hurl the dagger at an approaching giant who was creeping up from behind us, directly cleaving into its forehead.
Within a matter of seconds, it collapses onto the ground, tried, and unsuccessful.
Another titan stalks forward and stands by its fallen brethren. A murderous outcry erupts from the titan's mouth, in an ill-tempered fit of grievance. He snarls with saliva secreting from his receded gums. He unsheathes two widely curved sabers from his waist. Wrapped around his waistline are layers of fabric, draped over his nether regions.
Compared to the glutton, he is taller - and bald. His jawline is narrow and long. High cheekbones and sunken eye sockets with dark rings circled his dull brown eyes. His ribcage and pelvic bone are visible. Absent from fat. Skin so thin, you could peel it back like plastic film. Pigmented by a light shade of sand.
Reven's optic still retains a vehement afterglow and continuously produces steam from behind the lens - ascending into the air as vapors. The dual swordsman toys and swivels with the sabre's laced grip in both hands simultaneously before dashing forward.
Another mana beam blasts from Reven's optic - condensing into a thin ray as it elongates from a distance. The swordsman weaves in and out from underneath the ray - running along its length. Avoiding the alignment of its intended aim. He rams his knee into Reven's midsection before delivering several crosshatched gashes to his core. Slashing from left to right, right to left, diagonally - then repeats. Viciously slashing into the same wounds over and over again, flicking vital fluid carelessly after each heartless strike.
I curl inwards as the pain cruelly butchers my gut.
The titan smiles wickedly at how the tables have turned in his apparent favor.
I want to cut out that sadistic smile.
I want this repetitive assault to end!
"How long do you intend to sit here and take it – Alex?"
I crawl away from the crook of Reven's neck. Our opponent has technique and skill. He is also agile and swift, but he doesn't know brute strength.
I push through the gnarling discomfort and yell from the top of my lungs.
"HEY YOU!"
Two simple words - that's all it took to get his attention. And for extra good measure, I stick up my middle finger - suck on this, you pile of trash.
His expression straightens, and his eyes widen in surprise, then it quickly morphs into a flesh-crazed leer. A depraved smile stretches across his face, showcasing his slanted yellow teeth and pink salivating gums.
Without hesitation, Reven seizes the back of the giant's head and smashes his face down into the hard, malnourished turf, throwing him off balance. He drops his weapons. Reven releases another beam and incinerates through the back of the overthrown swordsman's skull. His screams are muffled as his face is pressed further into the dirt. He squirms. Furiously clawing at the ground while pinned down by Reven's vice-like grip. Blood fills his fingernails. Pigmenting the granular clumps of earth in his act of desperation. Bursting into a series of spasms. Signifying his struggle and the rapid climax of his decline.
Then the titan´s movements begin to slow and ease.
His strained cries cease.
His arms and legs become motionless.
His skull is reduced to a pit of brutal incineration.
Reven crouches down and flips the titan over onto his back to see his face melted through to the other side, resulting in a grotesque deformity.
Another demise.
Reven leans forward with his hand ghosting over his bleeding midsection, but before I could say anything, he interjects.
"It has been far too long since I have operated a vessel of my own, willingly."
Other than sitting on his shoulder like a bloody parrot, I don't know what else I can do for him. I wouldn't know where to start. His physiology is beyond me. I'm completely out of my depth here.
All I know is his name.
"We must move on." He states openly.
He is stubborn and determined to venture into the unknown.
Does he even know where he is headed?
"Did you at least check for survivors?" I asked.
"There were none. All were eliminated in the incident."