I. The Rising of the Legion
The final cycle ended with a tremor a deep, thrumming hum that echoed through the ancient skeleton of Nakar'Zul, the underground megacity that once served as cradle and crypt for the Mahasimu's silent army. The Second Mothership, dark and vast as a continent, hovered above the planet's surface, casting its shadow across the billions who now stirred from beneath.
From the cavernous transport shafts and spire-sized stasis vaults, ninety billion Shadowscourge and support caste marched with flawless precision. Their armor, channeled with veins of shadowlight, shimmered in geometric unison as they emerged from the abyssal vaults and rose to the surface, guided by command pulses from the upper fleet.
General Kizito stood atop the obsidian observation tier of the mothership's highest platform, joined by Vice General Tano, Admiral Kia, and the enigmatic Whisperer Vaelora. The platform, a floating citadel tethered to the mothership's dorsal spine, hovered above the massive surface staging field where five billion enslaved Kirell continued laboring, unaware of what awaited them.
As Vaelora turned to follow the summon, one of the Shadowscourge lieutenants approached and whispered to her in the tongue of black echoes.
Her expression changed. Only slightly.
Without looking at her two Kirell attendants Tamun and Je'ka—she gave them a cold order: "You are not to speak. You are not to show fear. If either of you forgets this… you will die before they do."
No emotion touched her voice, but her meaning struck with crushing weight.
The twin Kirells, pale and trembling, nodded in unison, struggling to suppress the dread rising in their small bodies.
Together, they followed her across the platform, drifting silently toward the council dais suspended over the field of soldiers and slaves. Below them, the final billion of Shadowscourge moved in exacting rhythm towering, gleaming, and invincible.
II. The Verdict from Above
General Kizito's expression was carved in stone. Cold winds from the mothership's underbelly stirred his ceremonial cloak as he spoke—his voice amplified across the legion ranks.
"The Mahasimu Empire has risen. Our conquest is inevitable. Our wrath, unending."
He turned to his sub-commanders.
"Tano. Kia. Vaelora. Begin the final boarding."
The Shadowscourge began ascending in towering formation into the mothership's internal docks, flooding its armories, barracks, and war halls. Over eighty-nine billion vanished into the ship's insides—until only one billion remained on the field below, standing statue-still in perfect formation.
Kizito raised his arm—and the final order fell like judgment.
"The last billion shall remain."
"Round up every Kirell on this world. All of them. Every last one will be transferred to Planet Gharar. We do not forgive. We do not forget. They aided the infiltrators of the Zelith system—whether by intent or ignorance is irrelevant."
A ripple of confusion tore through the slave ranks.
Then panic.
Cries broke out. Screams. Small figures scattered in every direction as the Kirell fled the fields, running across tunnels, towers, even climbing into half-built vessels.
The one billion Shadowscourge broke formation like a living flood. No haste. No rage. Just pure, inevitable motion—a world-spanning hunt had begun.
III. The Whisperer's Cold Gaze
Je'ka clutched Tamun's hand tightly, their faces stricken. Tamun turned to look at Vaelora, desperate for even the faintest sign of mercy—of guidance.
But Vaelora's gaze was fixed on the horizon. Calculating. Cold. Inhuman.
"You're heartbroken?" she asked quietly, never looking at them. "Did you think the gods let the ants build forever?"
She turned to General Kizito, her face composed.
"I will see it done. Every last one. I will deliver the list to you personally."
Kizito nodded once, his mind already on the logistics of the fleet.
As Vaelora turned to leave the platform with her two shattered Kirell servants behind her, she whispered—not to them, but to herself.
"You will live, Tamun. Je'ka. You will live long enough to understand everything."
Behind her, the sky roared with the thunder of warships, and the cries of an enslaved species echoing into oblivion.