Ominek placed the last talisman down on the soil and wove several runes to tie into the latticework of the master spell he’d been building for the rest of the ritual. The magic would take time to settle in and mesh with his target, so he had some time to see to a few more last-minute preparations. Losing Telmok in orbit almost derailed everything, as he’d expected to position his older sibling at his rear as a personal guard. Lacking that extra layer of security left him notably more vulnerable, but he was a dread lord. Vulnerability for him was nearly trivial. The Federation lacked anyone of sufficient power to challenge him, so he didn’t fear death in a ground confrontation. Without their elder artifact spell ship, they couldn’t cast anything of sufficient power to kill him. On the ground the Federation were pests or food, depending on his mood.
He glanced skyward to the shield he’d erected when he first arrived, watching the water and soul runes lingering paths along their frames. The torrential rain storm outside battered away at the shield to no effect. The walls of the shield became sloped waterfalls as the rain fell around it to the ground. He had to hand it to the planet; it provided him with the perfect cover to work with. A pleased smirk creased his features as he stepped out of the barrier, getting soaked. He brushed his long obsidian hair from his face and inhaled deeply. He could almost taste the water magic saturated air here. Something powerful was lurking nearby. He could feel it resonating in his bones, and soon he would claim it.
He began his morph process once he passed free of the shield. His scales rippled out and upwards in a wave, like a bird taking a bath. As they did, his limbs enlarged and fell forward to all fours. Wings erupted from his back, and a long, wickedly barbed tail grew from his back. His neck lengthened and his head grew in size. His mouth filled with rows of long knife like teeth like a shark. His scales were a sickly green hue, and an ethereal light pulsed from his slitted pupils. In one powerful flap of his wings he was off, heading for the capital. He could have teleported there, but he treasured the chance to get out and stretch his true self. As much as he enjoyed his human form, this necessary as well. Below, his minions all looked skyward with awe as his massive form passed over them, providing a temporary respite from the falling rain.
The flight back to the capital city of the human colony here would take him around the mountain range dividing the colony from the Sorrow. He stayed low to keep under the unnatural eternal cloud cover. His talons dragged along the soil and rock on the mountain surface, dragging deep furrows that caused a rockslide as he swept by. When he neared the city, he morphed back into his human form and used dark magic to lower himself down to the ground, where he strolled into the city limits at a casual pace. His target lay ahead of him, a large rectangular structure the humans called a skyscraper. He wasn’t sure why it had that for a name, as he found scraping the sky to be one of the least efficient things the structure was capable of. For starters, it just sat there. It also possessed no sharp edges to speak of. He could find no blades anywhere upon its surfaces. He sighed away his irritation at the poorly chosen slang for the structure and focused on his target and teleported directly there.
The air rippled, and an area twisted, warped and collapsed in before bursting out in a surge of violet dark energy, disgorging Ominek into Administrator Patton’s office. Patton was midway through a meal, and would have lept from his skin if it weren’t for all the seals he’d placed on Patton’s soul. Instead, Patton set the burger down and looked to him compliantly. It made him smile as the last of his teleport spell bled away. He flicked his hands in the pockets of his black suit jacket as he scanned around Patton’s office.
“Alvin, my old friend. How are you today?”
“What do you want?”
Ominek turned to Alvin with a wounded look, “You wound me. Not even a how are you?” He sighed, waving the flopped greeting aside. “No matter. You’ve no doubt seen that Captain Morwen has landed her motley crew on your surface?”
Patton struggled for a moment until finally nodding, and Ominek smiled at that. “Still trying to resist? Good.” He patted Alvin on the cheek, then took a seat on the corner of the man’s desk. “I have another task for you. You’re to delay the Captain. Claim that she’s come as your saviors. She’ll have defeated a small group of my minions to clear enough purchase for her landing site. Play footage of that victory and throw a parade in her honor. Lavish her with praise and offer to host her for a banquet feast for the entire city, because you’ll be declaring it Liberation Day!” he said, throwing his arms wide for emphasis wearing a large predatory grin.
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“She won’t fall for me suddenly becoming her number one fan after I’ve been hounding for the Federation to remove her. What makes you think it’ll work?”
“Because she’ll have no choice but to do it. You’re too much of an enigma to her. Are you cracking under pressure? A shitty leader? Or soul bound to follow my whims?”
He leaned close and let the dark energy pulse from his eyes. The only reaction Patton offered was a look of panic in his eyes. The rest of Patton’s body remained uncharacteristically neutral.
“Tell her you’ve reconsidered after watching her many successes. Dress it up in some corporate speak about preferring action to words and so on. I don’t much care how you sell it. She’ll have little choice but to follow along and see what you’re up to.”
“And what am I up to?”
He leaned close enough to Alvin that if he were in his draconic form, he could have inhaled Patton’s head and swallowed it without even noticing. It made him grin widely. “Oh my dear Alvin, that’s for me to know.” He patted the small round man on his head, like a mother might a child. “Now. I must run along. There are yet other pieces to stand up before the last show can begin.”
He spun on his heels and left Alvin’s office as the rotund man quivered. Ominek knew he was struggling to protest. Alvin’s feeble attempt at resistance left him amused. He was growing to like the small man as a pet. Perhaps he’d spare him after all. After Alvin’s office door whisked close behind him, he used his teleport spell and blinked outside the city center at the outskirts. He whistled a small upbeat tune to himself as he strolled out of the city and down the sloping hill that would take him to the marshlands and into the great swamp that bordered the mountain at the edge of the Sorrow. As the height of the grass grew marking the edge of the colony’s limits he allowed himself to shift into his massive soul dragon form, his scales an off-white ghostly green shade glimmered off the partial overcast light of the day.
He swam through the sky on lazy flaps of his wings before he settled down into the marshlands next to a small man. The man idly picked his teeth with a sharpened stick. The man’s head was bald, his eyes slitted, and his teeth all small pointed fangs. A young dragon's best approximation of a human morph. Ominek noted that unlike most young full dragons though, this one mastered the art of making one's scales look so small they mimicked skin pores. He allowed himself a pleased smile, although the humans had forced him from the station. Normally, this kind of failure would be met with Ominek simply devouring the failure of a dragon. But this was a different mission, and he couldn’t simply consume assets he would need to hurl at the Federation. It was still a sacrifice, just a more meaningful one.
“Pyre,” he purred slowly. His head lowered down to the morphed man. “To make up for your failure at the station above, I am tasking you with a new mission.”
The bald man bowed his head respectfully, speaking in a cultured tongue, “What would you have me do, Lord Ominek?”
He lifted his head and swept gaze across the whole marsh. “I want you to kill and bind everything your eyes fall on. I will deploy a contingent of undead and several dragon kin hatchlings to you. Augment this force with your bound creatures and attack the capitol city of the human colony. Your mission is to harass and slow down. You won’t have the numbers to take the city over. When you’ve lost, fall back with what remains.”
“I understand, Lord Ominek.”
“One last thing,” Ominek crooned. “Any new corpses your forces create, secretly bind and extract them, but not at the cost of losing focus on the fighting.”
“Yes, my lord,” Pyre said and bowed deeply to his older brother.
Ominek turned, regarding the city one last time. He contemplated dispatching the Orcs. They’d been very patient, waiting for their turn to fight. He decided against it though when he weighed in their value against the undead and the creatures of the landscape. He would hold them in reserve. A personal bodyguard to watch over the ritual and guard his back.
He smiled to himself as he flapped his powerful wings, sending a gust of wind blasting across the marshland. As he flew away, he saw Pyre getting to work. Good, he purred to himself. This would buy him more time and add to the Federation’s problems. More fighting and more delays. The longer he kept them dancing to his whims, the closer he got to finishing the ritual and accomplishing his goals. Just a little more time, and it would all be his. Victory. This world. The sector. All of it. He would hold the ashen remains of the Federation in his talons.