Interlude 1 - Hello?

“Hello?”

The voice was… soft. Also, strange. Not in my head.

It was a vibration moving through the air. How strange.

What a primitive communication medium.

There was no Mana in the atmosphere. I couldn’t see.

I tried to extend my mind, but I retracted directly. There was a barrier, a nasty one, surrounding me a bit farther.

Point-zero anti-space grid. Something we used in the Swarm to kill Dragons.

Ah. They used. I was not in the Swarm anymore.

Of course, the native stole it from the Swarm as soon as they were able to. They were good at stealing and emulating, the natives.

I admired them for that, even if it was infuriating. How could their crude society evolve as fast as a United Swarm?

“Hello?” The voice asked again. This time, I had created better ears, to identify the different aspect of the voice.

It was feminine, strong yet peaceful, like a hand extended toward me.

I created eyes, two in my main body and four on dedicated tentacles.

I opened them.

I was in a circular room, in the centre of it more precisely, surrounded on all side by the Point-Zero grid and its strange colour-inversing effect.

In front of me, in plain clothes, stood an Alfar. A Ljósálfars, an Alfar of the Light as they called them.

Specialised in using light to create illusions and to fight with it. Better Mana Channel than the average human, longer-lived by a bit. Dangerous to deal with.

But everything was dangerous to deal with without proper tools and preparation.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I moved my eyes around her, looking at her from all around, switching between UV and infra-red, X-rays and electromagnetic field.

Light was, after all, just a tiny part of the spectrum. I pitied those who couldn’t see the world completely.

She was tall even for an Alfar, around two metres, but the rest of herself was underwhelming.

No particular battle abilities, average endurance, average nervous system and organs, average reproduction value.

She would have been absorbed, or turned into a low-level nursery. Maybe her brain would have been kept, if deemed effective enough.

I pulled a blueprint of vocal cords.

“Greetings.” My voice boomed in the room, powerful but not too much, made to intimidate this lowlife.

Yet she did not move an inch. She was very brave, or a fool.

Most of the time, brave were fools. How could they resist our assault for ten years?

Damned technological advantage.

How much time did I put into emulating their own technology? I wasn’t helped by the fact that Magic was an entirely new concept for the Swarm when they took me in. What a headache.

“Oh! So you can talk, I’m happy!”

“Happiness irrelevant. Where am I?”

The Alfar lowlife grimaced but pulled herself together quickly. She had disliked my comment. Strange.

Happiness… A strange concept. Maybe I should work a bit more with it.

“You’re in a high-security cell. We did not kill you directly because… Well, because we were curious.”

“I am disposed to answer any number of question necessary. Please proceed.” I said when I understood she was curious.

Curiosity was a good drive. I could work with that.

“Your energy signature is totally out of scale. This is often linked with Commanding unit of the Swarm, but since we can’t crack your codes, we can’t actually know if you are one. Are you?”

“Yes. Designation: M0rg-Alpha-nastrfi-1425.”

The Alfar paled and took a step back, fear flashing on her face.

“N-no, impossible. There’s only one alpha unit!” She started her sentence screaming but ended it with a composed voice, calming down at each uttered word.

“Affirmative.”

“Y-you’re the Purple Queen?”

“Affirmative.”

The Alfar lowlife paled a bit more but kept her ground.

“Holy shit.” She still let out, covering her mouth when she realised what she said.

“S-sorry…”

“Irrelevant.”

“Thanks? I guess. Well, I’m… delighted to meet you, Purple Queen. You can call m-”

“Youthful Radiance. Propaganda icon of the Empire. What a thorn you are.” I cut her, unable to hide the disdain filling my voice.

A puppet in a society that wasn’t a swarm. A willing puppet, even worse than a drone. Disgusting.