16. Xandor
Chapter 16
Xandor
Ascent
I leap up the rumbling stairs, knowing timing is crucial—our fates and the fate of the entire universe hang in the balance. Tyrxie manages to keep up, while Felixus and the laden Quad struggle behind. Yet it hardly matters—at least for now. I only wish Tyrxie would fall back to stay out of harm’s way. But I know she’ll die before letting any harm come to me. Our bond reveals as much. Even now, I feel her fierce loyalty and love for me, caressing the back of my mind like the most beautiful touch.
“Guards ahead,” I whisper, countless premonitions of our encounter flooding my mind. “Wait here,” I request. Too many of those images showing Tyrxie dodging laser fire for my liking. She nods and halts along the vibrating stairwell, but I know she won’t wait for long.
“What in the void is going on? We’ve lost communication with the outside, and now it sounds like we’re under attack!” a male voice calls out, high-pitched and filled with fear.
“I’ve no idea. It must be the Scythians!” says another.
Upon rounding on level four, I see the five purple-clad Nebians conversing, a couple glancing at their wrist consoles. They appear like helpless puffrios being less than half my height, their builds lacking the strength of true warriors, addled by overreliance on technology. I smile, leaping among them, my Rush building within, infusing my muscles and boiling my blood to brutal heights.
I explode among them like a mighty comet as time appears to slow. They don’t even have time to recoil in horror as I deliver a crushing boot to one, sending him crashing into the metal wall. Another I smash his face with the hilt of my sword, collapsing him as if his bones have turned to water.
Two shrink back, their movements as slow as falling leaves to my enhanced senses and speed. The third maintains discipline, in the process of leveling his gun. But he’s not fast enough as I launch him down the stairs with a brutal kick. I laugh, watching him fly, our massive difference in physicality making a mockery of this contest.
The remaining two stumble, their faces now showing horror, their hands thrown up in defensive terror. I wheel, delivering a front kick into one’s midriff, doubling him over as he splutters for his stolen breath. The last guard, I thump on the head with the butt of my sword. Despite the helmet, his eyes roll back as he crumbles to the ground.
My claws itch to be released, fueled by the hatred and disdain for my weak opponents twisting my mind as I stare at their feeble forms. That enemies such as these dared bring me low, cutting me to pieces, is a disgrace—an offense to the Gods. Honor demands I strike back and amend this injustice. My eye leaks golden fury as my claws extend, reaching for the nearest one.
“You okay, Xandor?” Tyrxie asks, her sweet voice bringing me back from the brink of disaster.
“I... almost lost control for a moment,” I mutter, a surreal wave washing over me—bearing witness to a dark part of me unleashing, fueled by hatred and jarring memories of agony. The futures are so clear, the correct paths laid out before me, that I need only follow—but now they teeter on the edge, my rage twisting many roads.
Tyrxie’s eyes search mine, her concern palpable. “Be the hero I know you are.” Her trust in me is a salve, quelling the burning rage within. I retract my claws, shaking off the dark impulse. Her gaze shifts to the fallen guards. “Let me take care of them for you,” she says, flicking a switch on her rifle and firing precise laser beams that further stun the unconscious guards.
“Thanks,” I mutter, my mind still reeling, until the huffing and puffing of Felixus and Quad plodding up the stairs refocuses me.
“Ah, I missed bashing again!” Quad booms, sulking as his gaze shifts to the unconscious Nebians. Felixus shakes his head in disbelief, muttering a curse.
“Don’t worry, my eager friend. You’ll get all the bashing you can handle,” I promise Quad, with a knowing smile. The Barlyxian beams at my words, adjusting his massive laser cannon, his fingers flexing.
I move swiftly up the stairs, the rumbling beneath us intensifying. Tyrxie tries her best to keep pace while Felixus and Quad struggle to match my long, bounding strides. Good, for I know there’s a patrolling battlesuit barring our entry to floor seven, which contains the audience chamber. The potential danger is mine alone to bear.
“Wait here!” I shout down at the others as I pass floor six, my blood already shimmering for the challenge ahead.
“Hey, wait for me!” Tyrxie protests through labored breaths of effort. Her bravery and loyalty send my heart soaring, but it’s too dangerous for her—too dangerous for anyone. Except for me—I see a way forward. I need only execute my Gods-given strength and skill.
“Trust me, Tyrxie, you want to give this one a miss,” I call back, with mirth in my tone. To my relief, I no longer hear her footsteps as I bound up the remaining flight of stairs. I marvel at the door, unlike the others, with its grand size and rich purple engraved with intricate carvings of golden symbols. The opulence will lead me straight to the heart of the Nebian empire—a heart which struggles to beat.
Placing my back to the wall, I flash my hand before the door. It slides open smoothly. I need not look to know my enemy is near, the heavy stomping feet and mechanical whirring giving it away.
“Who goes there?” An amplified voice challenges.
I draw a deep breath, my heart roaring with Rush-enhanced blood, poised and taut like a stalking venefex. Images flash in my head, an array of strikes and outcomes, some ending in disaster, others the prefect attack. My grip tightens on my sword, now humming with a deadly sparking laser.
The sound of the battlesuit’s thrusters roaring to life reach me, sounding strange and slow to my heightened senses. Close now, very close. My breathing steadies and my heart beats as I close my eye, sensing it hurtling down the corridor to investigate.
Now!
Roaring, I slash a perfect vertical cut straight through the back of the battlesuit. The back portion thuds to the ground, adding to the cacophony of the rumbling building. I wasn’t certain why this strike was the best, only that it worked, but now, seeing the terrified pilot squirming on the floor, I smile knowingly.
The massive remnants of the suit, two heads taller than me, crashes through the metal stairwell banister, disappearing over the precipice. I hear Tyrxie gasp and Felixus shout in shock, “Imperator’s bloody arse!” followed by the deafening crash below.
The stairwell shakes anew, but I fixate my gaze on the pilot. He recoils away from my blade, terror straining his brown eyes. “Klen.... Klendathians!” He shouts uselessly, before reaching for a pistol on his belt. I frown, stomping down on his wrist—the one he has that I do not. He squeals in pain, louder than I did, despite my suffering being magnitudes greater.
His weakness sickens me... My weakness sickens me.
“Stop, Xandor!” Tyrxie cries out as my blade buzzes and snaps inches from the writhing pilot’s face.
Her words fill me with shame, almost washing away my fury—almost. “Thank your Gods, others show pity that was denied to me!” I shout, deactivating my blade and turning away in disgust.
The sound of Tyrxie’s rifle snaps, sending the pilot unconscious with her stunning laser. I scoff at the kind gesture—the opposite of my suffering. “What’s gotten into you?” Tyrxie asks, her voice full of concern.
“Our enemies, they sicken me!” I snarl, revealing fangs. “They’re devoid of honor. Sadists hiding within machines.”
Tyrxie’s eyes soften as she steps closer, her hand gently touching my arm. “I know they hurt you, Xandor, but don’t let them turn you into something you’re not.”
I take a deep breath, the concern in her emerald eyes calming my golden fury, anchoring me. “You’re right. There’s too much at stake,” I mutter, the anger receding but still shimmering beneath. “Come, we need to keep moving.”
Felixus and Quad finally crest the last steps to floor seven, panting heavily. They stop to catch their breath, only for Tyrxie and me to push forward through the opulent doorway. The path ahead is unlike the other corridors below—those lacked style, mere sterile white gleaming walls.
A lush, deep purple carpet covers the floor, stretching the length of the hall. Its fine fibers shimmer underfoot. The walls gleam with a silver-blue hue, adorned at regular intervals with intricate inlays of sparkling gemstones. These gems are arranged in swirling patterns that evoke the spirals of distant galaxies.
Such decadence.
“Wow,” Tyrxie whispers as her gaze scans the interior, lingering on the tall, elegant pillars rising from the floor to the ceiling, each one carved from a single crystal. “I’ve never seen anything like this!” she exclaims.
“We’ll try not to break much,” I jest with a smile.
I stalk down the decadent passageway, which is more a declaration of the Nebian Empire’s imaginary superiority. I lament the loss of my other hand to hold Tyrxie as we tread carefully, knowing danger lurks ahead. The myriad of future paths blink into my mind in an instant, filling me with total awareness.
“How’s your aim today?” I inquire, halting to squint down the massive corridor, seeing ominous dark specks.
“Good.” Tyrxie gives a short laugh. “Not as good as yours. The soldier who never misses,” she mocks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Could I make the shot? The lack of peripheral vision and my missing arm make it doubtful. “That title has slipped from my grasp,” I reply as I kneel in front of her, facing the open, looming corridor. “But you can do it. The warrior who almost never misses.”
Tyrxie chuckles, resting the barrel of her rifle on my broad shoulder—understanding my meaning. My clever female. Her softness presses against me, her gentle breathing absurdly cute and endearing, but I’m hopeful her targets will think differently.
“I see them,” Tyrxie whispers, tickling my long ears as she peers through her scope. “Three of them. What are they?”
I close my eye, seeing them with clarity through my Gods-touched mind. “Long-range portable laser drones.” Small orbs dart through the air, their sensors on high alert. If we had taken a few more steps forward, they would have gotten the jump on us.
“Weren’t the defenses supposed to be deactivated?” Tyrxie mutters next to my ear, sending delightful tingles through me.
“These are remote, deployed from battlesuits. Nasty little bastards for the unwary.” I frown, remembering fights where we took down Nebian battlesuits, thinking it was safe, only to come under fire moments later from their drones. “They’re weak, just one hit will do. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.”
Tyrxie draws in a deep breath as I activate my laser sword, holding it out before me to shield my love. The air is thick with tension, the rhythmic pounding echoing through the building making it difficult to remain still, but Tyrxie’s a crack shot. She knows to adjust, to choose a still moment. “Make quick shots, and whatever happens, keep firing.”
Zap!
The red streak of her laser whizzes past me, the sound jarring being so close to my ear. “Yes!” Tyrxie exclaims, adjusting her rifle a minute fraction. Another streaking beam of crimson illuminates the corridor, traveling almost out of sight. “Got it!” she declares in victory.
“Great shooting,” I commend, my eye fixated ahead. The last drone darts closer, getting into attack range. I take a deep breath knowing what comes next, sensing the trajectories of the attack, feeling them in a thousand multitude of premonitions. Tyrxie adjusts her aim as the drone emits its own blast.
In a flash, I alter the angle of my laser sword ever so slightly, absorbing the crimson death. My brave Tyrxie doesn’t flinch, doesn’t balk, filling my heart with pride as she unleashes her final shot. Her laser beam flies straight and true, punching through the drone and crashing it to the ground. “Take that!” she exclaims, leaping with excitement.
“Congratulations, warrior who never misses,” I reply, standing with a smile, the sight of Tyrxie’s happiness a balm for my troubled mind.
“Thank you, thank you.” Tyrxie performs a mock bow before straightening. “Did you really slash a laser beam out of the air? That was amazing!” she inquires with a look of genuine wonder that inflates my ego in a most pleasing way.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I reply, knowing my skills will be put to the true test in mere moments. The challenge brings a smile to my face, while Tyrxie’s smile shifts to a puzzled expression.
I march down the corridor, faster now, knowing the danger is vanquished. Every step brings us closer to our audience with the Imperator. The building continues to vibrate with the rhythmic thudding. It won’t be long now until they breach the outer doors and override the control center. The thought drives me onward.
“Did you really know I wasn’t going to miss?” Tyrxie asks, as her eyes scan the corridor for dangers. “And the way you positioned your sword. Like you knew the blast was coming.”
“Yes and no,” I reply, scrunching my face as I search for the right words. “There are thousands of paths where you didn’t miss, and some where you did.” I turn to her with a smirk. “One particularly troublesome path where you missed all three shots. We’ll call her the ‘ Bad Tyrxie .’” I chuckle.
“ Bad Tyrxie, ” she repeats, scoffing. “No way I’d miss three shots in a row. That’s ridiculous!” I could say more about how in that path I was forced to shield her while also slashing the drones—a close-run thing.
We arrive before doors of dark, polished wood with intricate carvings and gold leaf accents—no, not gold. “That’s voiding Elerium!” I exclaim in shock, tracing my fingers over the riches brazenly used for decoration. Statues of Nebian heroes, captured in stunning detail, flank the massive entrance. I laugh, marveling at the ludicrous size. “I don’t think Nebians come in that size.”
Tyrxie smiles but is lost in the opulence of the Elerium-encrusted door. “Nebians come in precisely the perfect size, you overgrown lumbering barbarian,” Felixus declares, approaching with Quad.
“My apologies short-stuff. I never noticed you from up here,” I retort with a smile at the frowning Felixus.
Quad’s gaze shifts to the destroyed drones, his face drooping a little more with each viewing. “You said I get to bash. But I miss every bashing!” he shouts in annoyance.
“No, my eager friend, you’ve arrived just in time for the best bashing,” I reply, nodding to the massive door, knowing his timely arrival was no mere accident.
“Oh!” Quad’s face lights up and his pace quickens, almost bouncing with joy.
As he approaches, I wrap my arm around his shoulder, peering down at him and already regretting the action upon catching his pungent smell. “You see, inside that room, Quad, are two fortified positions. One in each corner, packed full of bashable tinies.” Quad nods repeatedly, snorting to himself. “Now, when I enter that room to draw their fire, you count to ten. After that, you come in and bash until there’s nothing left to bash. Understand?” I finish with a smile.
Quad hops on the spot, forcing me to release him, and hums a tune that only consists of one word—“ Bash.” Tyrxie frowns, looking at me. “Drawing an entire room full of laser fire? Are you mad, Xandor?”
Why do people keep asking me that?
“I told you. You haven’t seen anything yet.” I smirk at Tyrxie, yet her stern green eyes look less than pleased. Then I frown, thinking harder on my words. “Actually, I don’t want you to see. You stay on this side where it’s safe,” I add with a nod.
Even though I’m smiling and doing the right thing—keeping her safe. A baffling awkward silence lingers as Tyrxie appears frozen locked in a rather unpleasant expression. “You can’t be serious? Why’s it okay for you to risk your life charging into a barrage of laser beams, but not me?” Her words come in a rush.
“Because I’m a Klendathian who can divine the future, and because I love you,” I state the simple truth, gazing into her soft features.
“I love you too,” she mutters, her beautiful expression mercifully softening. “That’s why I’m coming too.” Her words strike like a kick in the shin. Yet I don’t argue knowing every path short of restraining her leads to the same stubborn outcome. Felixus is having a bad influence on her!
“Fine, but don’t take any chances, and stay close to Quad,” I reply, trying to ignore the few outcomes where she takes shots.
Tyrxie nods in agreement, adjusting her laser rifle. “What about me?” Felixus asks, surprising me with a rare look of uncertainty.
“You want in too?” I ask, feigning a sigh, but already knowing his answer.
“What’s that sigh for, you arrogant, blockheaded savage?” Felixus snaps. His comical protests force me to suppress a laugh. “I’ll have you know I’ve served in the Nebian armed forces! If you think I’m going to stand here twiddling my thumbs while even the pretty lady risks life and limb, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“Peace, my vertically challenged friend,” I reply, struggling not to laugh. “I merely thought to spare you from attacking your own war brothers.”
“ War brothers ,” Felixus repeats, scoffing. “I’m already up to my neck in this madness. Might as well take the full plunge.”
“And a fine neck it is!” I beam, slapping Felixus on his back, forcing him to curse and stumble. “And a brave heart,” I add with genuine respect for my peculiar Nebian friend.
“Remember, Quad, on the count of ten?” I remind him, only to see the Barlyxian counting off his fingers with a growing expression of confusion.
“Um, better to let me count,” Tyrxie interjects, glancing at Quad with concern. “He’s not great with numbers,” she whispers conspiratorially.
“Pfft!” Quad spits, thankfully, directed at the plush purple floor. “I count fine, Tiny!” he protests.
Tyrxie holds up a placating hand. “Fine, we’ll both count. How about that?” she offers.
“Okay!” Quad beams with a nod.
I watch the exchange with disbelief—such silliness while the fortress rumbles and groans around us, on the precipice of overwhelming odds, the fate of the universe dangling like a leaf in a storm.
Krogoth will never believe a word of this, but first, I need to dodge light itself to survive.