Zyla stepped forward to greet him, her expression a mix of nervousness and guardedness. "Royal Prince Basil," she acknowledged, her voice steady despite the underlying tension. "To what do we owe the honor of your visit?" Basil wasn’t surprised she knew of him. Scant information about the Turles Family was public knowledge on The Hub. Even their latest siblings, who weren’t born from his mother, had some information on them.
Basil, his demeanor composed yet alert, offered a respectful nod to Zyla. "Greetings, Rebel Leader," he replied, his tone measured. "I’ve come to quell the rebellion that has taken place on this place and to apprehend the individuals responsible." He honestly shared. “Please cooperate, and I promise that none of you will come to harm.”
As Zyla listened to Basil's words, a ripple of apprehension swept through the assembled rebels. The notion of facing the eldest of the Turles Family was daunting, yet Zyla remained steadfast in her resolve. "I understand your position, Prince," Zyla responded, her voice unwavering despite the weight of the situation. "But we cannot simply surrender and allow ourselves to be subjected to the oppression of the PTO once more. We fought for our freedom and will defend it to the end."
Basil regarded Zyla with a mixture of respect and understanding. He recognized the depth of her misguided conviction and the false righteousness of her cause, even if it clashed with the interests of the Planet Trade Organization. "I can partially understand what you fight for, Rebel Leader," Basil conceded, his tone tinged with sympathy. "But know that my job is to restore order and stability to the universe. If conflict can be avoided, I will seek a peaceful resolution. However, if necessary, I will use force to uphold the universe’s stability."
The tension in the air thickened as the rebels and Basil faced each other, each unwilling to back down from their respective positions. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on everyone present, the outcome uncertain and fraught with peril. Suddenly, a voice rang out from the crowd, cutting through the tension like a knife. It was Korr, his gaze piercing as he addressed Basil. "Prince, we understand the importance of order and stability," Korr began, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "But we cannot return under the fist of oppression. We will fight for our freedom, even if it means facing the might of the PTO."
Basil regarded Korr with a solemn nod, acknowledging the distorted truth in his words. The rebels were not mere troublemakers but individuals driven by a deep-seated desire for unrestricted freedom. Unfortunately, the Planet Trade Organization was the only entity that granted freedom in this universe. You couldn’t even pass on into the afterlife properly without their overview. "Rebels, you have astonishing courage to stand for what you believe in despite standing in my presence," Basil remarked, his tone respectful. "But know that the consequences of your actions will be excruciatingly painful and irreversible. I urge you to reconsider the path you are heading down." Basil no longer restrained his battle power.
A massive gust of wind blasted from Basil’s position. A nearly unbearable amount of power weighed down on the hearts of the rebels. The previously meek, polite, and rather unassuming-tailed boy seemed to vanish in the wind as they felt that terrible power. Basil pocketed his glasses as he focused his attention on the rebel forces.
As some of the rebels fell to their knees, their leader gritted their teeth hard enough to draw blood. Zyla stood as straight as she could as blood dripped down the corner of her lips and her legs quivered. “ATTACK!!!” She screamed. The rebels, empowered by Zyla's command, sprang into action with a ferocity born of desperation. They knew Basil's overwhelming power outmatched them, but they refused to cower in the face of tyranny.
Korr, rallying his fellow freedom fighters, brandished their stolen weapon with grim determination. "For freedom!" he shouted, his voice ringing out above the chaos of battle. The rebels unleashed a barrage of energy blasts towards Basil, their resolve unyielding despite the odds stacked against them. Thousands of energy weapons fired toward Basil’s stationary figure. Basil sighed as the attacks moved in slow motion for him.
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He gently swatted away the harmless attacks and calmly moved out of the way of the weapons that he knew could affect him despite his great power. Weapons like the Chrono Nullifier could manipulate the flow of time for anyone hit by its pulsating rays. Battle power had no meaning on it unless you were strong enough to affect time itself. Slowing them down to a crawl. Basil knew that he could end up in a disastrous position if he carelessly handled these rebels.
As the eldest, he could rarely make mistakes. His father said mistakes are only natural and part of learning. However, at the same time, he said the Turles Family holds itself to a higher standard compared to the rest of the universe. What is merely acceptable to others is unacceptable to them. What is excellence to normal people, is acceptable to the Turles Family.
That's why he didn’t hold back against the rebels. After their first failed volley, Basil calmly walked toward the nearest rebel. “Keep firing!!!” Zyla commanded while firing a laser gatling gun. It took little to no effort on Basil’s part to avoid the amazing weaponry of the PTO. Lasers, bombs, acid, time itself, swords, spears, flames, missiles, etc. He knew them all. It would be rather shameful, in his opinion, to be caught off guard by this. This was also a very inefficient way of utilizing those pieces of tech.
When Basil reached the first rebel, he swiped his legs with a single kick and snapped both of his arms before heading toward the next rebel. He then began to speed things up, vanishing from the rebels' eyes. From their point of view, their friends, family, and allies were simply dropping like flies for no reason! Even Zyla, with her three eyes, couldn’t keep track of the eldest prince!
Basil kicked in Zyla’s kneecaps, dropping her to her hands. All around her were her comrades' groans, moans, and cries. He had his hands behind his back ever since his arrival. He looked down at Zyla. But he has not looked down upon her. Zyla didn’t meet his gaze with any of her eyes. Utilizing telekinesis, Basil forced Zyla’s eyes to meet his. When they firmly locked eyes, he calmly put back on his glasses. “You should be glad that I arrived here instead of my younger sister.” Basil clicked on his scouter as he received a notification.
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“...” Despair and hopelessness filled Zyla’s very being.
Was their feelings and actions completely pointless? If they couldn’t even singe the eldest prince’s clothes, how could they ever hope to get rid of the Emperor of the Universe? They outnumbered the prince thousands to one. Just he alone was enough to handle them all…
"If it were my sister, she would have slaughtered all of you most horribly. Just like she just did to the rebels on Planet Sacar." Prince Basil informed. “I was always the kinder sibling. Father says it's a weakness but not one I should eliminate. Kindness has its uses. He always says, we should not waste resources. Even you rebels have your own uses to the Planet Trade Organization. And in the case that I’m not enough, I have my family to rely on for my shortcomings.”
A shiver ran down Zyla's spine. If even the "kinder" sibling was capable of such brutality, what hope did they have against the full might of the Planet Trade Organization? As PTO-owned spaceships descended from the sky, casting ominous shadows over the battlefield, Zyla's resolve shattered. The rebels were outnumbered, outmatched, and outgunned. Their fight for freedom had become a lost cause, a mere footnote in the annals of history.
With a heavy heart, Zyla raised her eyes to meet Basil's gaze once more. In that moment, she saw not just the face of their oppressor, but the embodiment of their inevitable defeat. As the PTO forces closed around them, Zyla knew their struggle was over. The Planet Trade Organization had crushed their rebellion, and now they held them at their mercy. Despair settled over the rebel camp like a shroud as they watched the PTO forces descend upon them. The PTO forces descended upon the rebel camp, extinguishing the once-vibrant spirit of resistance and replacing it with a grim acceptance of their fate. Zyla could only hope that their sacrifice would not be in vain, that someday, someone would rise to challenge the tyranny of the Planet Trade Organization once more. But for now, they were powerless to stop the inevitable march of oppression.
The armored soldiers bowed to Basil as they began arresting the rebels with ki-sealing handcuffs and loading them into the spaceships. Basil watched over until every rebel was cuffed. Without ki, they stood no chance of escaping the grip of the Defense Force. He returned to his personal spaceship and took off in his Attack Ball. There were several more planets in need of dire help from rebel forces. This small pocket on this one planet was just a small part of the whole. He would receive an answer on how they came back to life once he caught enough of them.