Lydia marched down the long hall. With every step, her heals clicked and echoed through the ship. He had summoned her. The knowledge that he even knew her name sent shivers through her. A blend of fear, excitement, joy, and disbelief. She knew the ship well, but had never dared to approach the throne. A long hall filled to the brim with defenses, weapons, poisons, and… monsters, all hidden from view, was all that stood between her and her lord.
Finally, she stopped in front of a large shuttle style door. Two guards stood before it. Neither human. What they truly were was obscured by their hoods and cloaks. Long, serpentine-like lower halves disappeared into the shadow. She said nothing. They knew to expect her. There was a hiss, a release of pressure, and the door began to open. An aura of power nearly dropped Lydia to her knees.
“Enter.” Called a voice. Both deep and distant. Like the voice of a mountain remembering what it was like to be human. Shaking, she moved into the room. It was spherical and impossibly dark. A long walkway seemingly suspended over a void. It led to the throne. Not a seat, but a tapestry of technology, screens, wires and webs. All equally mechanical and organic. She fell to a knee. “Closer…” The world itself shivered. The bridge shrunk. Not a mechanical movement, but as if the world was being crushed by the will of her lord. It snapped back, and she found herself at the edge of the central platform. She trembled.
“My lord. You have summoned me.” Lord Sydrak shifted his bulk. Lydia dared not to look upon her leader. From the void above, a long insectile arm reached toward her. At the end, a perfectly normal human hand covered in a fine white glove. Gently, it nudged her jaw upwards. Like how one would lift a lovers face.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Do not be afraid to gaze upon me, child. I am not yet a god.” Only remnants of humanity remained. A pearl white human jaw. The hints of a human body wrapped in layer after layer of pure nexocite. Like a great shimmering cocoon, working to birth a new, perfect being. Glowing red eyes glinted off his metal armor. He smiled, showing rows of void-black teeth. Behind him were screens which showed an impossible amount of information to track. Other long arms tapped away at screens. Forms of life grew on the screens, changing with every tap of a hand. A casual act of pure creation. “Lydia… the Bitch Queen.” The way he said her name was intimate, but her nickname among the other smiths was spoken with sharp tones. “Do you wish to be tempered?”
“Yes, my lord.” She barely could contain her excitement.
“Then prove yourself. Descend upon Nexilon. A legendary weapon will soon be born. Retrieve it. It holds another key to our ascension. A fragment of the whole that will be us.” On the screens behind him, an image of the small fox-like creature appeared, its eyes glinting with cosmic light. Lydia’s heart raced at the sight, her mind already spinning with plans.
“Yes, my lord,” she whispered, barely able to contain her excitement. “I will not fail you.”
Sydrak’s gaze, unblinking and inhuman, seemed to pierce through her. “If you do, Lydia, I will cast you away. You will join the others when the time of culling comes.” His smile returned, cold and absolute. “But succeed, and I will add you to the Ascendancy. Your loyalty, your faith… they have not gone unnoticed.”
Lydia shivered, feeling as if she’d been anointed. Lydia had clawed her way to the top among the other smiths, earning her harsh moniker with pride. But here, in his presence, she was nothing more than a supplicant. “Thank you, my lord. I live only to serve.”
“Then go, Daughter of Perfection.” His words curled around her, both a blessing and a command. “Bring me the creature, and take your place among the chosen.”