Anisa was focusing hard on his movements, trying to nail him with a strike but he seemed to be parkouring around her strikes, even leapfrogging over her before back flipping off the top rope and kicking her in the back of the head. She swore under her breath and grumbled, “How did you even manage that one?”
He laughed, “Because I am Magnifico!” He flipped sideways over her follow up kick and when she went to punch he back flipped out of her range again. He bounced back and forth on the balls of his toes, smiling as he motioned her to continue her attacks.
There was a knock at the door and his wife opened it but they didn’t pay it much mind. They were buried so deep in the wastes that it must just be a neighbor looking for their dog or something. It was only when they heard the crash that the two warriors leapt from the ring and towards the door.
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A warrior clad in purple and gold armor sat upon a thronelike captain’s chair. His fingers clasped and unclasped the pommel of a sizable ornate blade that rested in a dais at his feet. His voice seemed regal and elegant, but his words undercut his nobility with every sentence:
Allow me my first address to you. I am Prince Gram Visto the Fourth of the Falos Empire. As new residents to our empire, we welcome you. We regret to inform you that your previous understanding of the world has become moot. We have come to grant you a doorway into a larger cosmos, but in order to do so safely, we must ensure your safety first. Previous leaders have dabbled with total disarmament, according to your history, and with mixed results. We, however have a different qualification for such things, and more importantly there is no larger force on this planet than us. The Cosmic Patrol is thus aiding us in a total disarmament of your planet. We will protect you from the larger cosmos.
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As they got to the kitchen, his wife motioned them to calm down from the floor near the door. Magnifico rushed to her side, a clear look of outrage. The commander, from Anisa’s read of the situation, was an odd sight but not unexpected. A large crimson scaled dragon creature stood with the Falos banner emblazoned on his uniform. He sneered at the humans and stated, “Leave naught but the cutlery. If we don’t leave them something to eat their young with, these humans will become no better than the literal vermin they are.”
Anisa watched as they pulled every drawer and cabinet, as if they were common looters. It seemed as though they were mere moments from ripping the very walls down. She knew that the Vitticepta were spread thin, but was this a convert to the Falos way or just another Vitticepta pressed into servitude?
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There have been cultural, religious, and biological lines drawn to divide and sow conflict. From this day fourth, your belief will be in the merits and strength of the Falos Empire as we are the ones who have been sent. We will cure your sick. We will protect you from wars. We will feed your hungry and house your disenfranchised. We will provide gainful employment to each of the able and we will house your ancient until their time has passed. Your money will be rendered moot as your only value will be what you have to offer your society. There is no bias under the benevolent gaze of the throne.
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As they searched the house, one of the Cosmic Patrol officers knelt down to help his wife back up, but Magnifico smacked their hand away. Their face was one of pained acceptance, clearly understanding why. Unable to stomach this upheaval any longer, Anisa charged one of the Falos knights and tried to best him. She managed to slap a triangle choke on him only for the powerful servos in his arm to effortlessly pull it free, reeling it back to strike her hard in center mass. Her ribs snapped like a row of firecrackers and she fell backwards, unable to catch her breath. She expected them to turn and finish the job as the Falos were infamous for, but the knight ignored her and kept ransacking the house.
The dragon man put a boot on her chest, agitating her shattered ribs immensely. “You stupid stratolocked mammals need to remember your place.”
The officer pulled him off of her and spoke firmly, “And you need to remember yours. We have five more of these towns to get through before the end of the planetary rotation and I don’t want to waste the daylight so you can abandon me to finish the job later.”
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This change will be sudden. Jarring. And unwelcome. We are aware of this and are willing to prove our power, both in your defense and to defend ourselves. Your governments have already understood the full scope of our strength. Until all foreseeable resistance has been quelled, we will be enforcing marshal law and preventing any native borns leaving this planet. Any departures will be done within the Falos ranks with three layers of verification and five years minimum served. Alternative work will be provided by the Cosmic patrol but all training will be done planetside until further notice.
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After the Falos left, some lesser ranked Cosmic Patrollers came in to do vital checks and to treat their injuries. The one that saw to Anisa injected her with an odd liquid and started fiddling around with a device on their arm. Moments later, her pain faded and she passed out.
When she came to, she was on the couch, the house still in shambles as the elderly couple worked to put their life back in proper order. She offered a hand but they motioned her to lay back down and rest. She turned on the TV and saw the figure in purple armor. “... This will be a time of transition. A time of change and rebirth for your people. Until this moment, you lived in a world no bigger than this marble in space. Doomed to live your limited existence bound by what you believed was all that your life would ever contain. But this is a fresh start. Low born and high born matter less than merit and power. Prove both, and you shall ascend beyond these skies into the upper echelons of the cosmos! This I vow upon my throne.” She glared at the screen, remembering the countless planets from the previous times who fell for these lies. All of them little more than mining camps. She sighed and touched her still tender ribs. At times like these she wished she had Sculptura’s powers. Still, her freedom was more important. She tried to figure out her next plan.
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The prince sighed at the end of the recording and asked his helper from off set, “Was that good? I wanted to go for some kind of benevolent gradient without my father mentioning my lack of menace.”
The voice reassured him, “It was good enough for now, Gram. Who do you intend to leave in charge of the planet?”
The prince considered it carefully and explained, “I will assign it on merit when the transition is mostly complete. Hopefully this one will be as smooth as I intend. This is always the most difficult part of the process. I hope we can keep the body count below ten million this time.”
“That would be ideal, Gram, but remember that we are dealing with an entire planet, forty million is more likely.”
He laughed nervously under his helmet, “I’m allowed to be ambitious, am I not?”
“Yes, my liege.”
The prince spoke firmly, “We will shed as much blood as is needed to reassure them of our power and not a drop more. That is all. You are dismissed, and thank you again.” His companion left and the prince admired the new jewel under his rule. He hoped his father would approve of his newer methods. The right amount of pressure at the right time makes all the difference in the world.