One of the most eventful days of Ptolemy 7 ends with a bang. The explosion marked the departure of most of the survivors, some in chains, some with exultation. For the first time in a while, order is restored. As the Navigator Coallition and the Sovran Order reach the lawless space, the will of the council is done, stopping the squabble of two of their own, one of the innumerous happenings in all the known universe. Now both parties, the Emperor of Creation Forces and the Fallen Chimera, will do their recoinecensance, not the way they wanted. The way the council wishes.
Leaving with the only other two survivors of the Blight Squad, Maximillian holds a bloodied necklace—its grim image of innumerous phoenixes. His helmet is broken, showing his predatory and gleeful grin. His other hand secures the bag strapped to his back; nothing could ruin his day. His mission and vengeance were finished, but it was just the start.
Shade carries with her a box, but her expression is perturbed. Her mission was incomplete, but what she most dreaded more than not reaching perfection was ignorance. The ritual was made, but who did it and what did it mean? Her apath wins out; they won't get the pleasure of diminishing her as always; her failing was more than her own; their petty actions hindered the mission. Embarking in the Fizznaults ship, she leaves, thinking of ways of carrying her antagonits down with her.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Oblivious to everything, Roberion sees the body of Xenn, the Farmunguns, desintegrating in the space; the scene is beautiful and melancolic. Minerva is talking his ears off, but finally something she says gets his attention.
"What do you mean I have three choices for our next destination? Can't I go to all of them?", Roberion asks curiously.
Sighing, his left eye apparition answers in his mind, the sync of her image and voice perfect, "It would be a waste of time; the plan is for you to reach the blessing incarnation for now. Obviously, you didn't hear anything, as always, BECAUSE, if you were listening to how I described them, you would notice. Now what do you want—become a mercenary, try to join an organization, or conquer a junk planet?"
Roberion thinks for a while, "So…can't you give like a tip—"
"NO! Choose!"
The choice seems hard in a way, each having their own benefits; at least I think they have; this stupid eye ghost just took the worst moment to talk about it. Oh well, will I be bound by another organization? Hell no!
"So tell me more about this junk planet conquering thing", grinning Roberion looks at Minerva. It will be nice to change things a little.