Joshua cried hard, and his mother rushed to his aid as she examined his scrape on the knee. Tears flew across his cheek as his father looked disgusted at him. His long gray beard was braided at the ends, while his mother had smooth, silky, beautiful brown hair. She brushed her smooth fingers across his face as she smiled.
“You are too easy on this child.” His father chastised him, rubbing his beard and grabbing his hand on his dagger that glowed like the sun.
"You could never understand; your children are not tools," his mother shot back.
"Do not talk back to me that way, woman!" He screamed, ordering her, “You will do as I say; you are my wife.” His father explained with a serious tone.
Joshua's cries started to die down as his memory started to become more clear. He saw his mother’s red eyes and beautiful fangs in her mouth. She licked her lips, but she did not bite, but she smiled. She did not burn under the sun like folklore, and while she looked like a monster, she was just a mother.
Joshua watched his brother walk away with two beautiful courtyard servants and a book in his hand. Learning and casting small spells to release. Whether it was a golden light or a flame, everyone smiled and watched in awe as he showed off his skill to the rest. He did not even pay attention to the crying Joshua and the tense area that flooded the courtyard.
At that moment, he was jealous, which was weird enough because he was not himself. Like he was watching from afar how it looked to be him, yet when he looked at his reflection in the lake, it was his face; there were no changes, no extra scar; he was sure that he was in his own body.
Joshua's mother wiped at his knees, cleaning up the blood, when an attack tumbled Joshua through the courtyard. Joshua’s mother was about to raise her voice in protest until she was struck and pushed away. His father’s face held unprecedented anger as she gasped for air. Joshua was unable to move in his presence; fearful for his life, he could not even utter a single word.
"How could you? This child is too weak; you must raise him in a strong presence.” His father uttered it in anger.
"A child learning from bloodlust, from this abuse.” He saw her mother raise a knife from her sleeve and his father smiling in happiness.
"He will not remember this moment, so show me truly who you are to show this empathy to this child; it is not your job." His father laughed.
A dagger dashed to his face; his head, in a moment of unexplainable speed, had dodged it as quickly. He grabbed the dagger himself and threw it straight at her, and it struck her heart.
Joshua turned his head to his mother, standing lifeless, a dagger through her heart spilling blood onto the grass. Joshua ran to her legs and hugged them anxiously, looking his father in the eyes with a sense of anger. He held on so tight that his mother fell to her knees, and in her last moments, she used all her strength to hold him in her arms and put a kiss on her forehead.
As his eyes cried even longer, he looked at his father, dismissed by her death. The servants and maids did not bat an eye to this moment, not even his brother, who just walked in his robes with no care for the world as he read a book, smiling.
From that moment on, he promised. What did he promise? He promised something. He could only focus on his mother, whose blood ran down his face, and he kept looking at himself, who finally looked at his mother’s lifeless body and could only strike a devilish smile.
–
Joshua grabbed at his bedsheets; sweat ran through his body, and there was nothing on his fully unclothed body that did not feel uncomfortable. His hair sweated and fell down his neck. A beard grew over his face, which no longer had the late 20’s youth, not like he was that age anyway. He twisted his body and sat up on the edge of the bed.
He immediately fell to the floor and started his pushups, repeating the number in his mind and saying it with his mouth. He did not want to think about anything, only the workout; still, memories continuously flashed through his mind. His authority, the appreciation, everything made him feel good. He remembers being on the peak of the mountain after years of climbing and becoming an oppressor to the ones also climbing the mountain with him, not focusing on the mountain behind him.
The gold, the glory, the fame, the strength—everything that made him who he was. It made him forget why he trained, what he sought after, and his revenge. Such a thing should have been dismissed; he should have been a pious leader, one who gives and grants, one who held power but shared it with the world. One who brought good times and repelled bad times after the old oppressor died. Though he was repeating the cycle, he was a monster.
"27, 28.” He counted; he did not want to think anymore, but voices kept pushing away his counting.
"You could never atone.” A whisper echoed in his ear. It seemed to snicker at his attempts to escape. Another came in and just shrieked at him, his mouth gaping wide open and swallowing him whole.
Joshua could only reach 70 pushups before falling to the floor from exhaustion. He laid on the hardwood and let the comfort of the cold seep into his body. He was unable to do anything except just stay on the floor.
His alarm went off, striking a high-pitched voice in his ear. His hand flew up, smashed onto it, and stood up. Groaning and yawning, she walks to the closet. The voice had now faded away, yet every time he looked in the mirror, he felt like he could see someone very similar.
"Who is it?” He said the figure did not respond; it was small in stature and only pointed at him. Joshua tightened his teeth, and after putting on his underwear, he turned quickly and rushed to the child. Grabbing his shoulders, he could recognize his body, but his face was blank, yet it scared him, and it disappeared right in his hands, leaving him staring in sadness.
Joshua sighed and went to the bathroom to get himself ready. He had to finish up in about two hours and then reach the class of children, whom he did not want to keep waiting for the third day in a row. Before entering the shower, Joshua took a close look at his face and grabbed it. He did not even say a word, but just let everything play out. Hot water steamed from the shower faucet, and fog filled the room. Entering the shower, the hot water steamed over him, and he just stood there. Not daring to move a single nerve as his hand grabbed him from everywhere. Waiting for him to make the wrong decision or waiting for him to become what he once was. He did not scream for help, but he surrendered his heart and fell into a state where he could maybe never come back.
–
Prime read his novel in delight. Sipping on his tea, he placed his mug down on the platter next to him, his legs kicked up on the other chair. His dining room had become magnificent as he was granted a new stay. He was to remain in the capital near the new leader of Caldera, Commander Pohl. He had become sort of a control freak and wanted heavy tabs on everybody. Not Madam Bourget since she was always considered his favorite, but lately Prime has seen her doubts. While she remains vigilant and stern in her belief that the reptiles caused the explosion, whenever she looked at Lieutenant C, she could only feel some sort of despair.
Not like Prime should care; now gathering information would be easier. Especially in this impending war, while it would have been a heavy nuisance in the past, this promotion could have given Prime all the information he needed to save the rebellion.
He flashed over the words in his book, “Enorma Serpente.” Primes' eyes became serious as he read over its descriptions. As a snake that rivaled entire star systems, it was strong enough that it could decimate a quarter of the galaxy. It was a myth, a legend, but Prime could never know what to believe from human text.
A knock echoed on his door. Prime closed the book and tossed it into an open drawer. Walking through the open hallway, he used his foot to close the drawer and came under the giant chandelier.
Cracking the door open with no fear of who was there, he was met with Madam Birch. She looked at him seriously and, with no notice, walked into his room, looking around.
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"How the hell are you here? Aren't you controlling the woods or some shit?" Prime said it confusingly.
"Just a construct, I can have as good a power as I have in the wilderness, the lovely home you have.” Madam Birch complimented.
"Don't thank me,” Prime laughed, his legs shuffled to greet her trough into the circular dining room. “Pohl chose this house; he said it would make us all closer and easier to contact.”
Madam Birch put her finger on the countertop and inspected the dust. She did not say a word as she walked, examining the rooms.
"But the soiled boy and the soiled girl don't live in their houses yet.” Madam Birch was insulted.
The wind creaked the backdoor open as a flash quickly speeded across. Prime paid it no mind and blamed it on the wind as he walked to Madam Birch.
"Both have certain predicaments like yours; the elite have not been too fond of this new rule change, but Prime is keeping them in control; Bourget has been recovering and has been in a sort of depressed state since the fire,” Prime explained.
"Sad over a reptile.” Madam Birch scoffed; his heart ached as he heard those words, and it seemed Madam Birch could sense the bloodlust coming from his body.
She looked back at him but shrugged it off as a mere coincidence. Prime leaned his hand on the island in the middle and tapped his feet in anxiousness.
"Your heart rate is increasing significantly, Prime; you seem to be very nervous also.” Madam Birch inquired. She examined his composure, which suddenly did not become nervous.
A deadly state seemed to engulf Madam Birch as a lump appeared in her throat. A different Prime had appeared in front of her. Like an eagle stalking his prey, he examined her closely, but only for a split second did she feel it, as not even a moment later, his anxious body continued to be nervous at her arrival.
"Never mind.” Madam Birch yawned. She grabbed a cup and muttered a word, and water appeared in front of her, slowly engulfing the glass as she took a sip.
"So, what’s the plan for you guys, especially your forces?" Madam Birch curiously asked, and she rested her head on her arms opposite from Prime.
"Not too sure; I was told we would attack their man head of operations; Pohl wanted it in a specific way; he wanted the buildings to burn.”
"Revenge huh.” Madam Birch shook her glass. “The death of the best man, Pride, is such a huge factor in these moments; it is so saddening. That is why I am going to complete my tour here, then go back to the EX0 system, probably retire, have a kid, and just live a good life; I still have around four years left though.”
Prime remembered clearly when she entered the fray fifteen years ago that not even a cadet, who was only 10 years old, sent my Lios to examine the corps he was taken in by her. She never stayed as a mentor figure; multiple people did that job for her, but she was of good assistance, and she brought him into this business in the first place.
"Why were you sent on a tour?" Prime asked, making sure to pry away from questions that would make her delve into him; she was human after all. Talking greatly about themselves was in their nature.
"Was a bad influence back in EX0, much more competitive landscape over there, so I was sent here. I was surprised by how weak the people here are; technology is subpar at best; and matter isn't even a teachable subject. The only reason why I cannot leave now is because my internal chip won't shut down until the four years are up, so I gotta be considered a rebel."She sighed.
"Wait, you say Caldera is weak,” Prime said, surprised by what she said.
Madam Birch laughed and looked at Prime dead straight into his eyes.
"Caldera is nothing compared to the kingship and the republic; if we were worth the republic's time, they would have sent a fleet of ships, but in fact, they only need one.”
"So you mean, we are just... nothing?" Prime seethed.
"Yes, just a tiny bit of the universe; maybe Caldera has the potential to become an empire on that level, but that'll take millennia; there is no way they could ever do that. Even for reptiles, this issue is so trivial; the only reason why the Republic took this city was to keep tabs on that creature.”
Prime was taken aback by these words. He had always taught Caldera was so important that it was a strategic location. They had died, fought for their land, for their freedom, and now they were considered like ants.
"Enorma Serpente, Prime said.
"BINGO."Madam Birch said lightheartedly, “Don't tell anyone this, but if you know this creature, just know that it's true that it’s alive. Around like two millennials ago, the king of the reptiles used some sort of gun and cursed himself to become a snake as big as entire planets.” Madam Birch took a sip of her water and smacked her lips. "Man, that creature was a feisty one. He defended this planet like a child. Banished it inside the planet you see in the sky, but it was all for nothing.”
"How was it for nothing?” Prime muttered.
Madam Birch’s ears peaked upwards in excitement mixed with curiosity.
"You seem super agitated, man, but I'll tell you.” She smiled, and her green eyes peered through Joshua’s chest as she continued to speak. “The whole point of this planet was because it was a strategic location to watch over the Kingship and the Church of Light. It was pretty pointless once the church was swallowed up, so Caldera’ has just been left to its own devices.”
Birch took the final sip of water and let a breath of relief leave her mouth.
"Now I’ve talked too long, so I'm going to pop out. Let me know."
Then a bang crashed on the roof, and they both paused. Prime’s leg started to shake, and his ears reacted to the commotion above. In a few seconds, he grabbed a pistol from his pants, pointing it upwards and firing.
The roof had a whole shot trough, and falling from the floor was the man's belly first. Prime shot a few holes through his body, and it fell to the floor. Blood left his stomach. Then a few men went legs first and broke through the dining room glass door. Prime fired a few shots and rolled behind his chair. Madam Birch turned into wooden sticks and wrapped around the men, scratching them as they screamed.
Prime turned his head over the chair, and a few more shots were fired. The bullets seemed to be powered by flames, and in one shot they all fell to the floor.
"Too easy, way too easy.” Prime thought: when he was struck on the back of his head, he fell to the floor for a moment, but in a quick sense of regeneration, he turned and used his legs to tumble over the other guy.
Madam Birch had made herself a wooden sickle where she slashed the chests of the men who wanted to attack her, turning into a few branches the moment she was struck.
Prime aimed his pistol, walking to the front, and more men rushed in with heavy artillery. A huge laser beam was in their hand, charging up to fire at Prime. Prime then went prone on the floor; the beam charged right above him, striking Madam Birch’s wood, leaving her to ash.
Prime cursed, running to the enemies. He jumped, kicked one down on his face, and used his pistol to eliminate the other two. His mind jumbled with thoughts as three others mindlessly jumped on his back. He had gotten doggy-oiled, and he felt the barrel of a pistol on his head. In desperation, he bit one of their fingers, and they hurled in pain.
The hurl gave him a good enough opening to shoot two injured soldiers on the floor, the noise alerting the two on top of him.
"Got you.” Prime smiled and turned on them, and they ended up below him. His pistol pointed at his forehead and he smiled. The fire inside the gun burned heavily; a spark made the bullet seem supernatural, and as it fired inside his head, it shot with so much force that it came through both skulls at once. Leaving them both dead below him.
Prime painted and smiled. He sat up and looked at the ash in front of him. Lucky for him, Madam Birch was in a figurative state. He panted as he continued to sit. His ear tingles, but he no longer hears any noises. He turned to see the enemies, and now he had an exact description of them. A white mask haunted their faces; their mouths were always open, and during the battle, he could only hear them make slight remarks and grunts. Their bodies were metallic, but their skin was humanlike—well, whatever remained.
A call rang through Prime’s ear, and he pressed his ear and answered. Appearing before him was a holographic screen of Madam Birch in the wilderness.
"It seems like you are alright.” Madam Birch said, smiling.
"You can't kill me.” Prime laughed.
They both chuckled with each other before an awkward silence made their light talk tense.
"I will talk to Pohl about this; they are getting too."
"Don't; he’s done too much,” Prime said quickly, and Madam Birch watched as Prime stood up through their screen. “This situation is different.”
Prime recognized these soldiers; they were his platoon. He did not regret killing them, but he still felt shaken by this. Whatever or whoever this was was not the reptilians, but somebody even closer to him, somebody always watching him, somebody who was ready to make his plans not come to fruition.