Even King Volengi couldn’t obliterate all who mocked him and yet… despite the reality of the situation staring him in the face, he still contemplated the impossible, forcing his supercomputer brain to work its way around the problem. Opposers who defecated on the Solarian name could be split into two camps— Those who believed he was incompetent and didn’t know the truth and those who pretended he was incompetent yet knew the truth.
Camp One consisted of ignorant sheep, fools who ate up all of the propaganda in rival Solarian planets. Billions of them spread the false news of the Solarian’s capabilities through word of mouth and online interaction, completely dismissing all of their accomplishments from the past as fiction. Volengi was certain the Solarian Empire could wipe out most of them through mass genocide within a few decades.
Camp Two, however, was a different story, as it consisted of the true threats and rivals of the Solarian Empire—those his father had been battling with for several centuries. They were formidable and were the ones churning out the false news. Politicians and royalty. Cowards hiding behind capable warriors and defensive barriers.
With a deep sigh, Volengi closed his eyes, waiting in perfect silence. Since no one inhabited the chosen ghost planet, he was truly able to tune out the humiliation, but the mental scar was still buried deep. The slug humans could never understand the heart of a Solarian. What it meant to be strong. What it meant to carry on a legacy and show to the masses what power truly was.
But right now… he could at least teach a few organisms.
Volengi stood up on desert terrain and repeatedly cupped one hand with sand before emptying it until fifty competitors of the Slug Games encircled him. His heart throbbed with excitement. Regardless of the shame eating him up from the inside, his true love would always remain pure and perfect…
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War.
"As you all know," Volengi yelled, "there’s been a slight change to the Slug Games. To some extent, the tournament structure has been ignored. No one on my side of the bracket will go through Round Sixteen, the quarter-finals, or the semi-finals. Instead, we’ll settle things right here, right now, and whoever leaves this planet alive will qualify for the finals."
No one responded at first. Already, every foe was ready, mentally and physically, eyes locked onto his. Unlike the preliminaries, the aliens who stood before him were the creme of the crop when it came to combat. They represented the planets who the Solarians genuinely viewed as a threat.
In other words, what stood before Volengi was a Solarian’s wet dream.
Silence stretched out for five tense seconds.
“Why?” Domo the Bounty Hunter asked finally, twin pistols at the ready.
Volengi cracked his neck to one side. “Boredom. Impatience. Fun. Pick one.”
Everyone charged, and the Solarian King evolved into his true form.
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Within ten minutes, the fight was over.
Volengi sat on the desert floor once again, and a row of heads neatly lay before him, surrounded by dismembered limbs and organs. He waved at the Spugs in the skies which had recorded the whole battle. Of course, the non-Solarian media would dismiss the annihilation as fake news and trickery but at least he was one step closer to the ones he desired to fight the most, the ones who finally had no choice but to fight him.
The Reluctants can’t avoid me now, Volengi thought.