The sleek transport vessel pierced through the clouds, descending slowly toward the lush, devastated landscape. Her arrival was heralded by a flurry of shadowy legions—the 2000-strong Legion of Shadows, recently freed from their own prisons—lined along the landing bay awaiting her appearance.
The massive spaceport had been cleared of debris, meticulously swept for her presence—clean, dark, and foreboding, a fitting gateway to her dominion. The Legion stood in disciplined ranks, their armor glinting silently as they awaited her command.
A towering, regal figure stepped into view: Sauma's escort, her elite Royal Guards, stalwart and deadly. She descended the ramp—her armor shimmering with dark energies, her eyes burning with ambition.
The Legion bowed deeply in unison as she arrived, silent and imposing. Her presence alone commanded obedience, the hopes of broken Vhalar clutching in her shadow—ready to be forged anew.
Tano's Report to Sauma in the command tent nestled within the camp, Tano approached with a tense but respectful expression. He saluted straight, then detailed the grim results of their efforts.
"Majesty," he reported gravely, "the resistance has been crushed. The last strongholds fallen, and the survivors captured or slain. The clan leader—the Zalor—is in our custody. The fighting was brutal, but our shadows persist. The resistance fought fiercely, but they are broken now."
Tano's eyes flicked with a mixture of respect and duty.
"The prisoners are restrained and ready. Many of the fighters— women, elders, young warriors—are now enslaved and must be processed in the camps. The city is in ruins, but the new outpost is secure."
Sauma listened intently, her expression darkening as she absorbed the report.
"Good," she replied softly. "The native resistance was stubborn, but ultimately weak. Now we forge their spirits into tools—resources for our expansion."
She paused, then continued with cold clarity.
"This world is a stepping stone—the beginning of a new outpost for the Mahasimu Empire. Their suffering will serve our purpose: to build shadows that will strengthen our reach into the galaxy."
The Meeting with the Clan LeaderLater, Sauma finally confronted Zalor, the Vhalar clan leader, in a dark, guarded chamber deep beneath the camp. His face was a mask of defiance and despair, bloodied but unbroken.
"Zalor," Sauma's voice dripped with authority, "your people fought bravely, but now you face the reality—your race will serve the Mahasimu Empire. You will be transformed into tools—a supply of labor and shadows to build our outpost. Resistance is futile. This is your destiny."
Zalor's eyes flashed with fury—yet beneath the anger, resignation flickered.
"You think we will serve you, spirits of darkness?" he spat. "You will find us resilient, even in chains. Our spirits are bound but unbroken."
Sauma stepped closer, her tone icy yet calculated.
"Resilience in chains is no resilience at all," she said quietly. "Your resistance is but a fleeting spark—one I will extinguish to ensure the shadow of the Mahasimu Empire reigns eternal. You and your people will become the very tools that forge our future worlds. Your misery, your suffering, will fuel the shadows that will stretch across the galaxy."
Her voice hardened as she added, "Resistance only prolongs the inevitable. Submit now, and perhaps some of your people may be spared the final suffering. But if you fight, you will only know pain—and your spirits will be broken, forever to serve as shadows in the empire's darkness."
Zalor, battered and bloodied, looked down in silence—his spirit seemingly broken but his pride still burning fiercely beneath. No plea left him—only a silent vow to remember, to resist in some future time.
"Your fate," Sauma concluded, her tone cold yet unwavering, "is sealed. Your race will serve the Mahasimu, or be erased altogether. It is the blood price paid for awakening the shadows."
Turning away, she signaled to her guards—the Royal Guards—to escort Zalor and the remaining prisoners to the slave camps. Her shadowed footsteps echoed through the chamber, a dark reminder that resistance was futile against the unstoppable tide of her empire.
The Dark Dawn
As Sauma left the chamber, her mind was already preparing for the next stage—a steady descent into complete dominion. The Vhalar would serve, be broken, and ultimately be reborn as shadows. Their pain, their suffering, would be woven into the fabric of her empires' expansion—glorious in her eyes, a cleansing fire that paved the way for endless shadows.
In her heart, she knew this was only the beginning. The galaxy's darkness was deepening, and her shadow would soon stretch across its stars—glorious, unstoppable, eternal.